#also 32 clears no dog

[hedgehog-moss]

I meant to go admire a frozen waterfall yesterday, but I'm scared of driving on slippery roads so I ended up abandoning my car and my dreams and just wandering about by foot, following random roads.

(These first two photos are a little bit blurry because I took them while walking, but it does give them a certain je ne sais quoi... They look like childhood memories)

The soles of my boots had zero grip and were therefore great for sliding, so I ended up taking two sticks and using them like cross-country skiing poles to propel myself forward on the iciest portions of the road. It was fun! Pandolf thought I was insane. He was being extremely prudent on the icy patches, testing each step:

At the beginning of our walk he was prancing as usual but then at one point his front paws slipped forward without warning, turning him into a very long slinky dog. It was pretty funny. I laughed. I admit. He wasn't hurt but definitely a bit vexed.

We did leave the icy road on numerous occasions, to slip under fences and cross promising pastures (promising = lots of footprints; potential friends.) We met several creatures! Like this adorable shetland pony—I tried to take a photo from afar, with Pandolf nearby for scale, to show how scandalously tiny he was, but that turned out to be impossible because he was too friendly. Every time I took a step back he took two steps forward. Clearly he thought he was even better-looking from up close.

We also ran into the darling goat I mentioned yesterday, and I was told by several people on here that she looked more like a ewe.

Sorry for the mistake! But also I tried to look further into this and became more and more confused, as every source that mentioned a foolproof way to tell goats from sheep was disproven by another source—I found one that said sheep had a split upper lip while goats didn't (and my mystery friend didn't), but then another website contradicted it. I ended up with 32 tabs open with photos of goats and sheep of all kinds, some of which looked downright bizarre (what's with the Jar Jar Binks ears), and I began losing my grasp on the concept of animal species altogether. I understood how Darwin must have felt when he tried to figure out the differences between species of barnacles and asked people to send him various specimens and ended up with giant teetering piles of wet smelly boxes full of barnacles in his study that threatened to collapse and bury him alive. Then I closed my 32 tabs.

Honestly ever since learning that some sheep have horns and some goats don't, I've been lost. Not to mention, our mystery girl had a sheep-like tail but a goat-like beard. Are there sheep out there with beards and if yes, how do we make sense of the world? We should be able to point at a mammal with a goatee and say "goat" without doubting ourselves. That's my manifesto.

Whatever she was, the goat-ewe was very sweet, and she baa-ed a lot—at first I thought she was making conversation and I politely baa-ed back, before realising she was calling her horse bodyguards, just in case. Two horses soon showed up from behind a tree, very "What seems to be the problem ma'am?"

I offered nose scritches to the friendliest of the two and she went to report to the goat like "We've neutralised the threat."

Let me insert another (blurry) photo of a travelling Pandolf to symbolise the passing of time before moving on to our last encounter:

... I also had trouble taking photos of this one at first, because she kept coming closer to inspect my scarf—I thought she wanted to explore my pockets for potential treats like Pirlouit often does but no, she was very interested in the smell (texture?) of my scarf specifically.

The sky had cleared as we went down from 1300 to 1100m, as if we'd slipped under the clouds, so I tried to take a photo of this nice late-afternoon sky, and the horse finally stopped focusing on my scarf and instead started insistently positioning herself between me and my beautiful landscape.

Look at this lovely golden light in the snow over there which I was almost able to capture!

Meanwhile her pasture mate was eating a whole broom plant, slowly and thoughtfully, which makes me jealous because my llamas are supposed to eat brooms and they mostly don't, they think they're too good for brooms. They eat the very young ones but not adult brooms, so I have to do the work of three llamas and cut them myself. I wish I could send the Pampses as interns in this pasture, to learn the art of brush-clearing from this wise old horse.

I tried to take one last landscape photo and gave up when the aspiring model came to pose again.

Where was Pandolf, you might ask? Pandolf doesn't trust horses, especially large farm horses, and was quietly and insistently trying to convince me to leave. When Model Horse tried to greet him (it looks like she's chasing him but no, she was just stretching her neck to sniff him) he beat a hasty retreat toward the icy road, his former enemy. Some guard dog.

It may sound like Pandolf didn't have a very fun time on this walk, slipping on ice and running from horses, but don't worry, he found plenty of suitable empty pastures to practise his favourite hobby! Though I think at this point he has moved beyond a hobbyist and is ready to play in professional leagues. He does this thing now where he jumps up a bit to gain momentum; I don't remember him doing this last winter. He's an entirely self-taught dog (in the art of snow diving) and I'm proud of him.

[roosterforme]

Something to Talk About | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley knew the rumors were circulating. He knew his friends were talking. But he had known you for such a long time, and you were just friends. Because if something was going to happen between the two of you, it would have happened by now. Right?

Warnings: Fluff and swearing

Length: 1900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for a request. And also because mak-32 said Rumor by Lee Brice would make a good fic. Check out my masterlist for more!

"Hey, Bradshaw, where's your girl?" Jake asked with a smirk. "Haven't seen Yankee all night, and it's getting late."

Bradley shot him some side eye from his stool near the pool table. "She's not my girl. And as far as I know, she went out for dinner with some guy she met at the gym."

"At the gym on base?" Nat shook her head and laughed. "You know how those Navy guys are, Rooster. They only want one thing." 

Bradley rolled his eyes. "She can take care of herself."

"Hey, Payback," Nat called out. "Why do you go to the gym on base?"

"Pick up girls," Reuben replied without hesitation from the other side of the pool table. 

"See?" Nat said to Bradley. "And I don't believe you when you try to tell me there's nothing going on with her. She's constantly touching you, and you get a stupid looking smile around her."

"Just friends," Bradley muttered, taking a sip of his beer. He'd known you since flight school in Pensacola. He'd been stationed with you in Norfolk and Corpus Christi. Now you and he were both back at Top Gun. If something was going to happen between the two of you, it would have happened by now. "Just good friends."

"Friends don't undress each other with their eyes," Nat said, batting her eyelashes at him while the guys laughed. 

Bradley shook his head. He didn't undress you with his eyes, but it wasn't his fault that you were pretty. And you most certainly did not look at him that way. "She doesn't even date other aviators. And she once called me an adorable puppy dog of a man. Just friends."

"There she is," Jake drawled, and Bradley's head snapped around so quickly to see you heading their way. "Hey, Yankee, looking good," Jake called out. 

"Shut up, Hangman," you returned as you got close, but you were smiling at them. You always seemed to be smiling, but seeing you dressed up was a real treat. Bradley was used to you wearing flight suits and khaki uniforms every day. 

When Bradley stood, you walked right up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. "How was your date?" he asked quietly, trying to ignore the looks the others were giving him.

"He was so stupid, Rooster. He could barely string a sentence together. Just a dumb jock," you replied looking up at him with wide eyes. Bradley held you a little tighter; so maybe his feelings for you went just the tiniest bit past platonic. 

"Aww, give the guy a chance, Yankee Doodle Dandy. Maybe he's just not used to how pretty you are. Maybe he got distracted." 

You rolled your eyes at him. "You know I hate it when you call me that." But you were still smiling. "Wanna know the funniest part? He actually asked me when you and I broke up."

Bradley's brow creased. "You and I? Us?"

"Yeah!" you laughed. "Apparently there are rumors we're together. Crazy."

"Yeah... crazy," he agreed, rubbing your back through the fabric of your dress. "Why would anyone think that?" he mused out loud as you pressed your cheek against his chest. You sighed contentedly against him, and when Bradley glanced over to the pool table, he saw his friends all scrambling to pretend they weren't watching you together. 

"I have no idea," you told him softly. 

Bradley cleared his throat. "If this guy was no good, maybe you need to reevaluate who you're going out with, Yankee Doodle. That's like five duds in a row."

You groaned. "I hate it when you're right. I'm getting a drink," you announced. "Anyone need anything?"

Bradley watched as you and Fanboy walked away to get some drinks from Penny. But you kept glancing his way while you and Mickey talked. And maybe Bradley shouldn't be surprised that people thought you and he were together. The two of you had always been comfortable around each other. 

"Could the two of you possibly stand any closer together?" Nat asked, drawing Bradley's attention away from your legs in that short little dress that you had wasted on another shitty date.

He just shook his head. "Nah. She treats Mickey the same way she treats me." But Bradley was starting to have a hard time believing that. 

You and Mickey were a few feet apart, and you were smiling as he was talking animatedly with his hands. But you seemed to reserve a different smile just for Bradley, one that would make his heart ache a little bit if he ever saw you give it to anyone else. 

Nat laughed and patted his arm. "Yeah, okay," she said sarcastically. "I'm just saying, if you want these rumors to stop, the two of you are definitely going about it the wrong way. You look like you're already in a relationship."

A relationship. Bradley would know what the press of your lips against his felt like. He would know all about the needy sounds you made in bed. He would know how it felt to hold you all night. But he knew none of those things. Did he want to?

"Here you go." You were holding another bottle of beer out to him, nudging him in the chest with it when it took him a moment to return from his hazy thoughts of spending a lazy Sunday in bed with you. 

"Thanks, Doodle Dandy," he murmured, and the soft smile that found its way to your lips had him thinking about kissing you. He cleared his throat a few times before taking a sip of the beer and sitting down on the stool. "So, was your dinner at least good? If your date was a dumb as you said, I hope you got a decent meal out of it."

And then your smile was gone as you looked into your vodka cranberry. "We got seafood, and it was delicious. And I made sure to stay and order dessert after he made a comment about my size. He said he usually doesn't date girls with big hips, but I had a cute face, so he'd make an exception."

Bradley froze, gaping at you, and when you met his eyes, you looked so vulnerable. You never looked vulnerable. You were a fast talking fighter pilot who never put up with his shit. But you were also a woman with feelings that had been hurt by some faceless asshole who Bradley would gladly pound into the ground given the opportunity. 

"He's wrong, Doodle," Bradley said, reaching for you and pulling you closer. You let one hand rest on his thigh as you stood between his knees. "Well, not about your face. But the rest of it...he's dead wrong."

You shrugged and smiled at him. "Thanks, Rooster. I'll be fine. I realized he was an idiot before he even said that stuff." You sipped your drink while Bradley leaned in closer. 

"I think I have a solution for your problem, Yankee Doodle." His nose was just a few inches from yours, and now you were leaning one of those decadent hips against the inside of his thigh. Your hand slid an inch further up his leg, and he had to stifle a moan. 

"Which problem is that, Rooster?"

"These guys. These shitty guys keep asking you out, but you deserve a good one," he whispered, and your eyes dipped down to his lips. "One who would tell you how fucking perfect you are. You're fucking perfect, Yankee."

"Oh," you gasped softly. "Rooster?"

He smiled at your surprised expression. "Everyone already thinks we're together anyway. I mean, we can shut these rumors down, if that's what you want. Or we could keep everyone talking. You could probably get me to do anything you want, really."

"How.... hmmm," you hummed, rattling the ice in your cup and avoiding his gaze. But you weren't moving away from him. If anything you were creeping a little closer. "How would we keep everyone talking?"

Bradley stroked your chin with his thumb and tilted your face gently so your eyes met his. "I could kiss you... if you want."

You licked your lips and searched his face. "If you kissed me, would you just be feeding into the rumors?"

Bradley watched the movement of his fingers as he let them drift back along your jaw and wrap around to tease the back of your neck. "No, Dandy. I'd be feeding into this crush I have on you. Which is why I've never done it before."

Your eyes drifted closed as you tilted your head a bit, and Bradley's pulse went wild. Every alarm bell in his head was going off, warning him that he'd get his heart broken if you were only going to kiss him for fun. But he couldn't stop you, because he didn't want to. 

With a soft sigh, your lips met his, and Bradley instantly knew you and he should have done this sooner. Your kiss was sweet as your lips gently explored his. He pulled you closer, his firm fingers stroking up and down the back of your neck until your palm rested on his chest. He could feel the prickle of his mustache against your skin as he nibbled gently on your bottom lip. The soft noise you made spurred him on, but now you were pulling away, meeting his eyes with that same tentative look. 

Bradley could feel the cold condensation on his jeans where your glass had come to rest, but everywhere else he was so warm. He took your glass and his beer bottle in his free hand and set them down on the table behind him. "Come here, Doodle," he whispered, now tracing your cheek with his knuckles. 

Your arms went around his neck, and you were pressing against him, tucked snug between his spread legs. "I hate it when you call me that," you whined softly, pressing your lips against his a little rougher this time. It took everything in Bradley not to climb off the stool and push you against the wall when your fingers found their way into this hair. 

"No, you don't," he whispered, breaking the kiss to taste your neck. 

"No, I don't," you agreed. When his mouth returned to yours, you parted your lips for Bradley, and he tasted you there, too. He stroked your cheek, and you peppered his lips with soft kisses before you pulled away a few inches. "I liked that."

"So did I," he agreed with a laugh. "We should do that all the time."

You nodded and kissed his cheek, and then Bradley realized all the other aviators were staring at both of you with varying looks of surprise. Except for Nat. She was smirking.

When you glanced over your shoulder to see where Bradley was looking, you waved at everyone. 

"Are the rumors true then? You two are into each other?" Nat asked, casually sipping her drink.

You turned back and looked at Bradley with hopeful eyes and a grin. "Are the rumors true, Rooster?"

He wrapped his hands around your waist and nodded at the others. "Yeah. Rumors are true." Then he stood and pulled you against him, dipping his head down for another kiss while you smiled. 

----------------------------

Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for putting up with me. And I hope @abaker74 finds a real life Rooster, because that's what you deserve!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 32]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

"Ready to go?" Yunho poked his head into the kitchen. You nodded, putting away the cloth you were using to wipe the counters. He smiled and straightened up, walking in. The both of you grabbed your things from the locker room.

"Have fun~" Hongjoong wished while the rest of the boys waved to you and Yunho.

"Thank you." You cleared your throat, looking away shyly. Yunho laughed and waved to his friends before opening the back door for you to walk out first.

"Today was a good day." Yunho said, immediately holding your hand.

"Mhmm, the items moved quite fast. Luckily we had extra ingredients to make an extra batch of muffins." You chuckled.

"So, you're not going to tell me what this date entails?" You raised an eyebrow as Yunho opened the passenger door for you. Yunho shook his head, making the action of zipping his lips.

"We're going to play. That's all I'm telling you." He had a cheeky grin on his face.

"Oh but first, before we go, customary to every date." Yunho reached into the back seat and presented you with a bouquet of flowers. You softened as you held the bouquet in your arms. With Yunho always giving you different types of bouquets, you have grown to appreciate flowers a lot more.

"Thank you, Yunho. They're always so pretty." Reaching over, you held his face and brought it closer to you so you could give him a peck on the cheek.

"You're welcome." He smiled, reaching over to hug you. You giggled as you watched his ears turn red.

"Alright, let's go." Yunho started the car. He reached over to hold your hand, other hand resting on the steering wheel to drive.

"We're here!" Yunho stopped the car, parking. From the parking lot, you were not exactly sure which shop Yunho was going to bring you too. Yunho ran over to your side, helping you out.

"I can't even begin to guess which shop we're going to." You chuckled, stepping out.

"Stop trying to guess and enjoy the surprise. Also, you might not want to bring the flowers." Yunho advised. Your eyes widened.

"Okay, now I'm slightly scared." You joked but turned around to leave the bouquet in the passenger seat. Yunho reached around you to lock the car, not acknowledging the slight fear he made you feel. You held his hand and let him lead you.

"Ta da!" He stopped in front of the shop you were both going to. You looked up at the sign.

"I don't get it, you brought me to your home?" You turned to him, a playful glint in your eye. Yunho shot you a flat look, not finding your joke funny.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny." He rolled his eyes, making you laugh. Yunho decided to bring you to a dog cafe.

"I mean, I love it. But can I ask why you chose this place?" You tilted your head.

"Well, I know you haven't been feeling too great, with your dad and all... I read that being around dogs can help release serotonin, which makes you happy, calm and relaxed." He explained.

"Thank you... Yunho. It means a lot." You hugged him. Inside, you were a pile of mush. You knew you didn't deserve him.

"I guess this explains why I feel happier with you around, being around you helps me release serotonin." You giggled. Yunho scoffed, pinching your waist. But before you let him go, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. With an arm around you, Yunho guided you into the shop. He gave his name to the staff.

"You have to order two drinks. You can add on cakes and snacks if you'd like." The lady said, showing you the menu. Yunho ordered coffees for the both of you.

"Alright, I'll bring it to you. This first bag of treats are free. If you want more, it's chargeable." She informed.

"Thank you." You and Yunho bowed, receiving the small bag of treats.

"Shall we sit here?" Yunho suggested a small corner table. You nodded and sat with him in the corner, watching as all the different types of dogs moved around the cafe.

"Luckily we're here on a Monday. It's less crowded." You noted. There was only one other family there.

"Hi, cutie." Yunho watched as a dog approached you, sniffing you cautiously. You smiled softly, stroking the dog's head.

"You're so cute. Have a treat." You carefully laid the treat on your hand, letting the dog eat out of you palm. Once Yunho received your drinks, he came to sit next to you. Seeing you feed the dogs passing so gingerly, he wanted to help you.

"I'll bring them over for you." He said with determination, pouring all the treats onto his hands.

"Yunho, you don't have to-" But it was too late, the dogs excitedly ran over at once, jumping and tackling Yunho to the ground. You took a video of him before smothered by the dogs.

"Are you okay? Do you need help?" You asked.

"N-No! I'm fine. We're just playing." He replied, getting licked in the cheek by one of the dogs. A husky jumped into his lap.

"Oh." You turned when you felt a presence beside you. A golden retriever obediently sat beside you, meeting your eyes. You smiled softly, letting him smell you.

"Hi there. Want a treat?" You giggled, reaching up to rub the dog's ears. He let his tongue fall out of his mouth, showing his content. You took another treat that you had and held it up to him.

"You're so gentle." You cooed as he bit the treat gingerly, as if careful not to accidentally bite you. He seemed to want to be closer to you, carefully stepping his front paws into the space between your legs until his body was almost pressed against yours. You ran your hands down his sides, fluffing his fur.

"Cute..." You smiled. The golden retriever suddenly rested his head on your shoulder, making you wrap your arms around him to hug him.

"Usually Leon is quite active, I've never seen him so docile." One of the staff said to you as she walked pass, watching how Leon just wanted you to hug him.

"Really? He's so sweet and gentle..." You chuckled. Leon nuzzled his head into against your cheek, his tail thumping on the ground excitedly.

"Is that your name, handsome? Leon?" You held his face. He reached out to lick you, as if he was confirming your words.

"You're a good boy, Leon." You giggled.

Yunho, who managed to get away from the puppy pile, sat up and realised you were no longer beside him. But he saw you sitting slightly away, smiling and hugging the golden retriever that stood in your space.

"(y/n)." Yunho came to sit with you, eyeing the golden retriever, who comfortably laid his head on you.

"Oh, Yunho. You managed to escape. This is Leon, he's so sweet and docile. He might be your long lost brother." You stifled a laugh. Yunho clicked his tongue.

"He isn't!" He hissed. Yunho reached out to hold your hand but Leon let out a low growl, surprising the both of you.

"Yah, she's mine." Yunho growled back.

"Are you seriously fighting with a dog, now? He's innocent, he just wants some hugs and love, isn't that right, Leon?" You giggled, hand continuing to stroke Leon and coo at him.

"No, he doesn't. He probably just wants the treats for himself. Selfish." Yunho scoffed. You burst out laughing.

"Yun, you know I'm on this date with you, right?" You pointed out. Yunho pouted, not replying you as he drank his drink. Seeing him sulk, you couldn't help but give in to him. You left Leon and sat beside him, basically leaning your body against him. Yunho's arm came to wrap around you.

"Ha! Can't even remain loyal. Look at him, going to another person just because he has treats." Yunho said, watching Leon give another couple attention because the girl had treats in her hand.

"Hey." You grasped his chin, making him tear his eyes away and face you instead.

"You're the one I like, hmm?" You tilted your head. Yunho nodded, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

"I'll always be loyal to you and you only." He smiled. You rolled your eyes but the smile never left your face. Yunho wrapped his arms around you, lifting you onto his lap.

"This is indecent. There are kids here." You slapped his arm.

"No, it's not. Get your head out of the gutter." He teased. You pursed yours lips, looking away.

"Aww, look at how small this one is." You cooed, leaning down to pet the small dog. It shivered in its spot, making your heart melt. It must be scared with all the big dogs around. Taking one of your final treats, you held it out to the small dog.

"All the big dogs always get all the attention, huh?" You giggled, rubbing the dog's ear. It contently leaned into your touch, it's hind leg thumping happily.

"You're good with dogs, have you ever had one?" Yunho asked, watching you melt over this small dog.

"Nope, I always wanted one but my dad never allowed one on our estate." You stated.

"Yunho, I know what you're thinking. Please, don't get me a dog. It's sweet and I really appreciate it but I know I can't dedicate the time it needs to care for it properly." You raised an eyebrow at him.

"I-I wasn't thinking that!" He choked but his red ears gave him away. You pinched his cheek, he was predictable by now.

Honestly, Yunho didn't care too much about the dogs. Not that he didn't like dogs. But he was here for you and all that mattered to him was that you were having a good time. He was happy that you were relaxed and comfortable around him. Plus, he felt so warm seeing you interact so gently with the dogs.

Without knowing, you were staring at Yunho while he spaced out. You could tell how tired he was, waking up early with you and having to run the restaurant with the morning crowd.

"Shall we head back?" You suggested. Yunho broke out of his daze, looking at his watch.

"Sure." Yunho nodded, helping you stand up.

"Goodbye, Leon. Be good." You laughed as you kissed his head. You couldn't leave without giving the golden retriever some goodbye pets and affection, much to Yunho's annoyance.

"Alright, that's enough. Let's go." Yunho held your hand and took you out of there.

"So, where do you want to go now? It's too early for dinner." Yunho asked as you both walked in the direction of the car.

"Shall we just head back? We can rest." You suggested. You could keep going but you knew that Yunho was tired, you wanted him to get some rest.

"You sure?" He tilted his head. You nodded with a hum. Yunho wasn't going to argue, deep down, he was feeling the exhaustion of this morning hit him. He wanted to take a nap with you. So he opened the door for you and drove back to his home.

When you entered, you split up to get showered. Yes, Yunho still insisted that you shower in his en suite bathroom. You went to grab your comfy clothes to change into after showering.

"Ah..." You slapped your forehead, digging through your overnight bag.

"What's wrong?" Yunho came over, concerned.

"I must have forgotten to pack my spare sleep shirt. I only have my shorts, I think I left it on my bed and forgot to pack it... It's fine, I'll wear last night's shirt instead." You shook your head.

"(y/n), you don't have to rewear your shirt. You can just borrow mine." He chuckled. You looked at him in confusion.

"You're my girlfriend. Of course you can help yourself to my closet." He said, walking over to his set of drawers to retrieve a shirt.

The thought never crossed your mind. You have worn Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho's clothes but it was different, wearing Yunho's clothes. It was more intimate. But you weren't turned off at that. And him saying you're his 'girlfriend' solidified in your head that Yunho was really going to be a constant in your life.

"Here you go." He handed you one of his comfier black shirts. You received it gratefully with two hands before the two of you split up again to have your showers.

"He really is a giant." You couldn't help but laugh when you looked at your reflection. Yunho's shirt was so big it covered the shorts you wore.

When Yunho came out, his legs nearly gave out at the sight of you swimming in his shirt. It looked like you were wearing a dress.

"Might be a little big on you." He laughed, making you turned around.

"Just a tad." You replied with a grin of your own before continuing what you were doing. You used Yunho's hairdryer to dry your hair, not wanting to wait for your hair to dry before sleeping.

"Come." You waved him over. Yunho obediently walked over to you. You made him sit on the closed toilet bowl before helping him dry his hair.

"My mother always said going to bed with wet hair will give you a headache." You explained.

"She's a smart woman, not going to argue with that." Yunho shrugged. You smiled at his words, Yunho just always knew what to say. You loved the way he spoke about your mother with no wariness or hesitation. Almost as if they have actually met before.

"Are we done yet?" Yunho whined, pressing his ear against your middle as his long arms wrapped around your thighs.

"Yeah, just let me comb it or your hair's gonna stick out everywhere." You chuckled, using your fingers to try and tame Yunho's hair. He patiently stayed still.

"You can go to bed first. I still have a little bit more of my hair to dry." You told him, patting his back.

"No, it's okay." Of course Yunho was going to wait for you. He wasn't THAT tired that he was going to leave you.

"Okay, I'm finally done." The moment you put the hairdryer back into the holder, Yunho swept you up in his arms, making you yelp in surprise and hold onto him.

"Yunho!" You slapped his chest. He let out playful giggles before placing you down on the bed.

"This is now your side of the bed." Yunho smiled proudly. You raised an eyebrow at him as he hugged you and snuggled against you until you could only hug his head. He felt his chest get warm at the feeling of you relaxing in his embrace and lean your head on top of his. Lifting your hand, he kissed your knuckles.

"You smell like me... Hehehe..." He laughed contently to himself.

"Go to sleep, Yunho." You mumbled, stroking his head. It didn't take long for Yunho to do just that, softly snoring as he hugged you to sleep like you were a pillow.

"You must have been really tired..." You gently stroked his cheek. He didn't even flinch or move.

You thought back to the events of today. You feel so different with Yunho, a good different. It almost scared you when you think about how happy he makes you and how happy you are with him.

A part of you still worried that this was too good to be true. But you didn't want to let Yunho go. You didn't know what your life would return to if he wasn't here anymore.

"I love you..." You whispered softly. Did you have the courage to say it to him when he was awake? No. Not yet, at least.

"I promise I'll be better to you. For you." You said to him.

"Please be patient with me... Don't leave me just yet." You continued, feeling tears well up in your eyes but you blinked them away, not wanting them to fall on him. For now, you just savour every moment spent with him. You smiled softly, closing your eyes to sleep.

When Yunho woke up, he was alone in bed. He stretched his limbs out and reached for his phone to check the time. It was almost 8pm, he didn't intend to sleep for so long.

"(y/n)?" He sat up, calling out to you. There was no reply but small sounds coming from the kitchen.

"(y/n)?" Yunho shuffled out to the kitchen. There you were, with your hair up and AirPods in, facing the stove and busy cooking dinner.

"What are you cooking?" Yunho wrapped his arms around you, making you jump in surprise. You turned around to face him and gave him a light disapproving tap on the chest.

"Don't do that..." You frowned. But you removed your AirPods, tucking them back into the case.

"What are you cooking?" He repeated his question, totally unfazed by your scolding, even resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Just a simple dinner. I ordered groceries earlier since your fridge is empty. Luckily they do same day delivery, they came rather quickly." You replied.

"Right... We could have ordered in, you didn't have to cook if you were too tired to." Yunho cleared his throat. He turned to look at your profile, you didn't say that to embarrass him or make fun of him for having no food in the house. You were simply stating what you did. He let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm fine. Besides, I'd much rather cook than eat out." You shrugged. Plus, you wanted to do something nice for Yunho after all that he does for you. This was the best way to repay him.

"You still haven't told me what you're cooking." Yunho pointed out.

"I'm surprised you haven't guessed it yet... It's your favourite food. Like, ever." You stated.

"Abura soba?!" Yunho's jaw dropped in disbelief. You let out a hum in confirmation. You yelped as Yunho suddenly grabbed your waist and lifted you up.

"Yunho! Put me down!" You squirmed.

"I'm just so happy! You're making me abura soba! And here I was, going to complain that you made me wake up to an empty bed." He grinned, giving you a big kiss on the cheek and put you down.

"Dramatic, much?" You rolled your eyes. You went back to the stove to continue cooking the individual toppings.

"I made both braised minced meat and rolled pork belly chashu, I wasn't sure which you prefer. Although, I guess you would eat both." You chuckled. Yunho nodded and gave a thumbs up, even leaning in closer so you could let him try it.

"Too salty?" You tilted your head.

"Nope. Perfect." His eyes sparkled. You laughed again, Yunho was so enthusiastic about food, you loved it. A part of you just wanted to constantly make food for him.

"For somone that doesn't cook, you sure have an arsenal of knives, pots and pans." You said.

"My mother. She comes over and cooks for me some times. Usually, she drops off side dishes." Yunho explained.

"Can I help with anything?" Yunho asked.

"Actually, I'm already done. Like I said, it's quite a simple dish. All that's left is to boil the noodles. Can you get out the bowls and cutlery for me, please?" You asked.

"Of course." He kissed your temple and went to get the right bowls out. After setting the bowls down, Yunho stood by your side, watching in awe as you assembled a bowl of abura soba for him. He wanted to take his phone out to record the moment but at the same time, he wanted this to be his memory only.

~

Series masterlist

[riizebabie444]

your future spouse’s love language

hi! i'm pearl and i’m so happy you chose this reading ♡ today’s reading is all about the love language of your future spouse and how they express it. this is my first pac on this blog so I hope you enjoy!

♡ disclaimer ♡ please remember that all tarot readings posted on this blog are for fun and entertainment; you should not refer to these readings as a replacement for advice or guidance on serious matters.

reblogs are appreciated, as is feedback! find more pac’s in my masterlist! check out my paid readings and exchange readings! and donations are greatly appreciated ♡

© lueurais — please do not copy, steal or repost anywhere.

♥︎ pile 1 ♥︎

♡ love language ♡

quality time + acts of service

♡ how they express love ♡

i immediately see that this person is not a touchy–feely type; they don’t particularly enjoy or feel comfortable with physical touch, especially the type you might expect in a relationship. so, physical touch is definitely on the bottom of the list of their love languages. however, they do like holding your hand and burying their face in your body. and it is clear to me that quality time is very important to them.

this person loves deep conversations; i’m hearing, in particular, the half–full/half–empty debate. i believe it is of importance to them and may be a deciding factor in whether or not they want to pursue you. they seem like the type of person who would use this debate or others like it to judge other people. but regardless, i think they are genuinely a philosophical person; they love talking with you, getting to the roots of your brain and heart, finding out how you feel and why you feel those things so they can know you better.

i think they’re quite a sensitive person; i have reason to believe that for some of you reading this, your future spouse may have grown up with separated or divorced parents, or a broken family in general. this reflects a lot in how they allow themselves to love. they don’t like touch or pda because they very rarely saw it with their own parents. they also may have not received a lot of attention as a child, and this is why quality time is important to them.

i’m seeing art very prominently, so either them or you could be artists. i said quality time and i definitely think expressing yourselves together creatively would be fun to do. maybe art dates, or walks in nature and under the stars to gain inspiration for art. and other activities like pottery class or bouquet making, they might take you to a wreath making class do you can make one together for your home in the holidays; if there's anything fun and creative to do, they want to do it with you.

they have a rough edge that is hard to crack through. but they are driven and if they are serious about you, they will put in the effort. i’m seeing acts of service, like always paying for meals and bringing/making you coffee and driving you to where you need to go. it would also be hard to read their facial expressions, but they are soft for you on the inside and you will know this because of all the little things they do for you.

♡ symbols and signs ♡

clouds, paint/drawing/art, crying, the letter s, a white horse or other white animals (such as a dog or cat), heterochromia, gemini, 5, tree, stars, 32, mythology, leo/5th house, opiuchus, dark brown hair, roses, water signs.

♡ cards ♡

the artist, knight of swords, the lovers rv, five of cups rv

♥︎ pile 2 ♥︎

♡ love language ♡

acts of service, gift giving + quality time

♡ how they express love ♡

from them, i am getting the image of an angel who gives. they are a generous person; they like giving to support you. whether it is extravagant gifts or simply helping you in giving you what you need to get by. i see both ends of the spectrum — for some of you, they will be able to give you expensive and fancy things, and for some of you, they will not be as disposable with their income but will still give to you because they care about you.

gold is popping out a lot, so maybe gold jewellery or other gold gifts, or maybe they like gold wrapping paper. and it is not subjective – it can be anything deemed precious, like gold. but i also see they are quite moderate, so they prefer to give gifts with deep thought and meanings to them rather than going straight for the most expensive and fancy looking item in the store.

i see this person with a lot of fears and anxieties in regards to the relationship they have with you, and they may also worry you feel the same way. and it’s normal to have these feelings at some point in a relationship. so, i think they’d be urged to give more gifts when they have those worries. they want to appeal to you with generosity which could turn into an unhealthy habit, so keep an eye out for those who this resonates with.

bringing you water on a hot day — this image feels really clear. maybe those of you reading this live in a hot country, or really like hot weather. i see the sun bright in the sky and they’re worried you may be dehydrated or suffering from heatstroke, so they will always make sure you are drinking enough water, especially during hot weather.

and carrying on with the topic of sun, there’s a scene where the sun is touching the horizon. perhaps you guys went to watch the sun set after a date. gold rays are coming in strongly, so it might be your guys’ thing – watching the sun set or rise and leaving the curtains open in your home so the rooms can fill with warm, bright light from the sun. consistency is important to them, so little routines like these that you both enjoy makes them feel so special and they love being reminded that you are there to experience these moments with them.

♡ symbols and signs ♡

sagittarius, water signs, flowing water, nightmares, sun, jupiter, marigolds, sunset and/or sunrise, 10, wings, studio ghibli, unhealthy habits, summer, 444

♡ cards ♡

temperance, nine of swords, knight of cups, seven of wands.

♥︎ pile 3 ♥︎

♡ love language ♡

physical touch, quality time + words of affirmation

♡ how they express love ♡

with two kings here, i definitely see they are very vocal and confident with their words. they seem like the person who always speaks their mind, whether they are expressing happy thoughts or bad ones. that also means they will make it clear when they are upset or angry, but it also means they will clear any doubts you have and make sure you know that they love you.

although, for some of you, i see that your future spouse could be the type who falls silent when they are angry, but even in this case, they will eventually tell you what the issue is and make it clear that their feelings for you don’t change so easily.

in particular, i hear “you’re the best!” and grabbing your head and kissing you on the forehead. “i’m so lucky,” “i couldn’t have figured this out without you,” and “you look great in that outfit,” are what i’m also hearing. i think for some of you, your future spouse will be the type of person who has a catchphrase, like “i’m impressed,” or something along those lines. this is just what i heard, but it could be anything, and they will tend to use it to boost your confidence, and also when they are trying to flirt with you.

they obviously love to spend time with you, but i think they will particularly love holidays with you. i’m seeing quiet villas in countries along the equator, maybe that resonates with some of you. for others, i see the coast. peaceful getaways are like a goldmine to them; they may not happen a lot but when they do, they have the best times of their lives with you.

and holding hands is so prominent. just hands in general. even if you’re holding something else in your hand, they will take it and replace it with their own hand. physical touch like cuddling and kissing would take place, but for them, touching you with their hands is what fulfils them. it’s the fact that you are real and touchable so they always need that reality check to ensure you’re really there. and if you like all the touching, then they will do it tenfold. holding hands, or their hands roaming all over your body; whatever it is, they will almost always have their hands on you.

♡ symbols and signs ♡

323, twice (kpop girl group), coasts, nice hands, black birds, italy, blue skies, 11, magpies, graduation, purple gown, olives, pastel colours, chameleon, green, greece

♡ cards ♡

ace of swords, two of wands, king of wands, king of swords

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 33

Part 32

A kiss had never driven Steve so crazy. Never in his life had he ever spent so long thinking about something as simply as a kiss. But it wasn’t just one kiss, was it? For one thing, there had been several until they’d been interrupted by the children. And for another, each one had felt more meaningful than the last. More heated too. Eddie had rushed them back to the castle like he couldn’t wait to get Steve in bed.

They never did find out what the boys had been doing out so late, but maybe that was for the better. The heat of summer was getting to them all and so it was planned to have an outing at Lover’s Lake. Typically a royal going onto an outing like this meant the entire court coming along. It meant several carriages and even more servants to wait on them hand and foot.

But Steve should have known that Eddie wouldn’t put on any airs like that; that he was the type to choose only the bare essentials. So the lot of them piled up into a wagon, a couple of baskets of food, snacks, and refreshments to tithe them over until they returned to the castle.

“Why is it called Lover’s Lake anyway?”, Steve asked.

“Because legend tells of two loves who couldn’t be together, so they drowned themselves to be with each other”, Dustin said with a ghastly smile.

“That’s not the story”, Lucas argued. “Two lovers came from the lake. One made of moss, the other of water.”

“I heard two people were so in love, their passion created the lake”, Robin said.

“I was always told it was a bunch of people”, Will said. “Not just two.”

“Stories can change over time”, Eddie said from the front where he drove the horses. They got to the lake shortly after that. The surface glittered in the sunshine. And they weren’t the only ones enjoying the cool water. There were a couple of boats down the way, fishermen. Although it was clear even from a distance that they were doing so for leisure. The boys wasted no time tearing their shirts off and stripping down to their swimming shorts.

El and Max took their time, choosing instead to head off for a shady area under a tree. Steve couldn’t tell what they were doing, but it looked like serious business. Robin was already lounging with a nice, cool drink and Steve was about to join her when he saw Eddie heading for the water. He too had stripped down and Steve was struck by the fact that this was the first time he’d ever seen Eddie in a real state of undress. His chest, arms, and back were visible and they were covered in tattoos.

Most of his body seemed to be covered in black vines. They branched this way and that and at the end of each branch was something new and different. Steve was mesmerized. He didn’t realize that he was until Robin reached over with a stick and poked at his cheek.

“Sorry, I was trying to close that gaping hole in your face.”

Steve glared at her but he didn’t know what he was more perturbed by - her making fun of him or her interrupting his staring.

“I was also trying to wipe the drool off.”

“With a stick?”, Steve asked, trying to wipe his face without being obvious.

“I’m not touching your drool with my bare hands.”

Steve rolled his eyes and went back to watching Eddie as he went into the water. His skin was pale under the sunlight and Steve worried he might burn if he was out for too long. Was he like the demobeasts in that regard? He must have better tolerance, able to even be in the light at the height of summer at all while the others hibernated in dark caves.

He watched as Eddie dipped below the surface and then came back up, his hair draped over his face. He used his hands to brush it back and damn, Steve might actually be drooling now. 

“He’s…”, Steve trailed off, not having the words.

“I can’t believe our king has reduced you to speechlessness. In a good way”, Robin said. She looked up to view Eddie and only saw a wet dog where Steve saw beauty and power.

Finally, Steve couldn’t take it anymore and he prepared to take to the water. Will was distracting Mike when Lucas dunked him in the lake. Immediately after, Dustin breached to knock Lucas off balance. Eddie was wading at a distance, making sure they didn’t get too wild, when he noticed Steve stepping in from the shore.

Immediately, Eddie’s mouth got dry, watching Steve enter like something from his dreams. He didn’t wade through the water so much as the lake caressed his body. Before he knew it, he was moving towards the prince.

“Hey there”, Steve smiled.

“Hello, little prince”, Eddie smiled right back as they got nearly chest to chest. 

Steve’s hands found his under the water and Eddie brought them up out of it to kiss both sets of knuckles. For a moment, the screeching of children at play were distant. They didn’t even notice El and Max diving in with a splash. All they could see were each other’s eyes and the droplets of water shining on them both. 

“Can I tell you something?”, Steve whispered in the small space between them.

“Anything, always”, Eddie’s voice was soft, not wanting to break the moment.

“I’m still thinking about our kiss, from that night.”

“As if I could ever forget. My dreams are sewn with the sweetness of you. It permeates my every thought. If I could go without breathing, I would, just to keep your lips on mine.”

“You don’t know what your words do to me”, Steve ducked his head. “When you talk it’s like…it’s as if you take my words away from me just to return them.”

Eddie’s hand came up to grip the back of his neck, “If that is the truth, then I should give them all back. For I am no thief.”

Their foreheads came together and Steve blinked, taking just a second to savor him. And also to glance around and remind himself of their surroundings.

“What are you thinking about, my joy?”

“I am thinking of the fact that we must have eyes on us.”

“Then let them bear witness to our affections.”

“Hey! We can and will douse you with water!”, Mike reminded from afar.

Eddie snickered, letting his hands move up from Steve’s neck to further up into his scalp. “Sounds like they’re warning us off.”

“It sounds to me like they’re itching to splash us anyway. So it wouldn’t make a different whether you kissed me or not.”

Eddie’s eyes got bright. “Oh it makes a difference to me.”

When they kissed this time, they knew it would only be a second before they were interrupted and sure enough, water hit the side of Eddie’s face, getting Steve in the crossfire. It was still one of the sweetest kisses Steve had ever received. He and Eddie retreated to the shore, where those tattoos were brought to his attention again.

“That’s quite the mural”, Steve said, looking them over again. He could see a paintbrush, a sword, a book, and several other things that almost seemed like charms on his body. 

“Each one is for someone in my life”, Eddie admitted. 

Steve looked over all that he could see, wondering who was who. And also wondering how long until he found a space on Eddie’s skin and what he would be illustrated as. They returned to the castle hours later, children hanging on by a thread and ready to collapse from swimming all day. Steve was right alongside them, eyelids getting heavy. Eddie took it upon himself to carry Steve up to his room, even laying him in his bed.

He left the prince with just a kiss on the forehead and then the door separated them as he stood in the hall. He gave a heavy sigh and leaned heavily against the door, which was how Jeff found him.

“How goes the courtship?”, his friend asked.

Eddie gave him a long look. “I have to marry him before the year’s end.”

Part 34 coming soon

Taglist CLOSED

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[ilk-insolence]

Raph and Leo Analysis: Hot Potato BrainCell

Thinking about it, Bug Busters and Jupiter Jim Ahoy! were parallel situations for Leo and Raph. They were the only brother that voiced concerns about following a charming but suspicious stranger into their headquarters, were both ignored, and ultimately proven correct for their wariness and had to go rescue their family. What’s even more ironic was that their concerns were blown off specifically by each other in those episodes.

Obviously, this was a result of Raph and Leo being well-written complex characters with amazing contradictions (and the differing variables), but I wanted to understand the specific mechanics and rules behind their game of hot potato with the brain cell.

(long post!)

A pattern that I’ve come to see looking at different moments of “common sense” for Leo is that they’re all instances of him being worried for the safety of his loved ones. The most well known examples, found in this post that the majority of the fandom has seen (therefore I can avoid rehashing them all), are all Leo just trying to keep his family safe. Some additional moments are when Leo asks if sticking Splinter in a plastic ball is cruel or not in Down With the Sickness [15:51], him being the only one worried about the by Albeartos in Al Be Back [16:11], and when Leo remarked that it’s kind of messed up to use Donnie’s game addiction against him in The Purple Game [18:00]. Occasionally, Leo’s concerns even spread to people he didn’t know, like with Bullhop in Bug Busters, and when he asked April if she still had the orb holding the people of New York in Finale Part 3: Anatawa Hitorijinai [6:35]. Outside of that, Leo has the exact same batshit, reckless decision making skills as the rest of his brothers. (Should I even list examples--?) Air Turtle (bought the obviously demonic bridge), Clothes Don’t Make The Turtle (he pushed all his brothers into a pit without a plan because he was so excited), Bad Hair Day (agreed to grow hair to get into a discriminatory retreat instead of, I don’t know--getting a wig), The Evil League of Mutants (willingly went to New Jersey), Flushed But Never Forgotten (tried to replace his brothers with googly eyed rocks), and so forth. Leo being reasonable is Leo being worried, displaying a level of understanding and tact that the rest of his brothers kinda skip over. His common sense is from his protectiveness and care.

However, there are times where Leo’s common sense/worry gets pushed to the side when Leo pursues an agenda. Pizza Puffs, Minotaur Maze, and The Gumbus are some examples. It’s also what happened in Jupiter Jim Ahoy!, where Leo dismissed Raph’s desire to leave Moncrief’s house because he wanted to hang out with one of his favorite movie star heroes (and avoid Splinter). Even though Leo is shown to have a healthy sense of stranger danger, his worry was overridden by the allure of a real life Jupiter Jim.

Raph’s general good sense is similarly powered by his love and worry for his family. However it’s also powered by responsibility; not only as the oldest brother, but as a hero to New York City. Out of the rest of his brothers, it’s clear Raph is the most dedicated to the duty of protecting people. It’s why situations like Pizza Puffs (the mission chart), and The Longest Fight occur. It’s also why he’s the one that repeatedly gets his brothers to focus on the fight, like in the hypnosis in Clothes Don’t Make a Turtle [15:32]. However, being responsible and worried isn’t exactly the same thing as making reasonable decisions. Raph’s dedication to hero work can sometimes turn on him, make him too excitable to make sensible choices. It’s why he was chill with going after the spine-breaking/mangling bad guys for the Mad Dogs’ first mission, or create the whole FAB situation in Stuck On You, or immediately begin fighting the Foot Clan in Mystic Library [6:32], or why his solution to The Mutant Menace problem was to go outside and “‘smack people in the face with good deeds!’” [12:22]. Raph’s eagerness to being a hero can occasionally push him to behave rashly. (Kind of like his anger.) This is what happened in Bug Busters, where Raph got so swept up with the concept of catching the oozequitoes, of Big Mama’s help assisting him to do better hero work, that he completely dismissed Leo’s concerns surrounding Big Mama’s motives [7:45]. Admittedly, Leo’s suspicions is also due to him just being better at reading people, but Raph’s complete dismissal of his concerns shows that he was being stubborn around the subject too. Conversely, in Jupiter Jim Ahoy! Raph’s protectiveness over his brothers was greater than his love for Jupiter Jim, which fell in line with his responsible nature as the big brother, making him be the reasonable brother for that episode.

And that’s how A-team played hot potato with the brain cell.

oh god I didn't even touch on the movie at all wow.

[accirax]

Elliot Cuevas Lore Check (Yoidoreshirazu MV Analysis)

After the intellectuals in our community had the thought to check the description of DRDTdev’s latest MV masterpiece, one fact became pretty clear: DRDT’s sparkly new MV is not fronted by one of our main cast of sixteen, or even a particularly pre-established side character. Instead, it’s time for Elliot Cuevas to take the stage, and bring with him a lot of questions ranging from “wait, that’s what he looks like?” to “wait, is the killing game predicated on a basis of lies?!” There’s… a lot running through my mind right now, and I see no better way to process it than to start answering the questions that I and others may have as best I can through a theory post. I’m living!

And when I say “answering the questions,” I mean that quite literally. I think that the best way to frame this analysis is to divide it into headlining questions, and tackle what we know and what we can learn piece by piece. Therefore, I think the most obvious question we can start with is:

#1: Who is Elliot Cuevas?

We don’t have a ton of information about the guy, but I’ve tried to compile what we do. By far the most information we’d gotten on Ellie prior to this MV was from the Chapter 2 Part 1 Q&A, where DRDTdev described a little about all of the major siblings we’d heard of so far. Here’s what DRDTdev said:

So, we know that Elliot was given the nickname “Ellie” (and presumably likes it, given that he’s credited in the MV as “Ellie”), and he looks really similar to Charles, which we also saw in the MV. Given how similar he looks to Charles, I’m going to assume that they’re biological brothers, which would make Ellie hispanic/latino. Similarly, I’m assuming that he identifies as male, due to his use of he/him pronouns and the term “brother” being applied to him. He likes pancakes and dogs, which… we’ll get back to later. Charles is stated to be 18+ at the start of Despair Time, which would make Ellie 29-32+ if he were alive today. Which… huh. Is he?

#2: Is Ellie alive?

The belief that Ellie is dead isn’t just a popular headcanon that metamorphosed into “fact”– his death is directly referenced in the text in the form of Charles’ secret. Your older brother, Elliot, died.

However, this MV does make it tempting to believe that Ellie could be alive, so let’s give it the benefit of the doubt for a moment. If Ellie is alive, there are two sets of two questions to consider.

Question #1: If Ellie is alive, why did people think he died?

Ellie was in a life threatening scenario that people believed he didn’t escape from, but he did. After this, he either took the opportunity to disappear, or something prevented him from reuniting with his loved ones.

Ellie did die, and the DRDT universe contains some sort of necromantic magic or time travel properties that could bring him back to life.

Question #2: If Ellie is alive, why does the secret say that he’s dead?

Whoever wrote the secrets (likely the mastermind) did so intending to tell the truth. They learned the information from a source that led them to believe that Ellie had died, and if Ellie turned up alive, they would be just as surprised as everyone else.

Whoever wrote the secrets (likely the mastermind) did so intending to lie. They knew that Ellie was really alive, and included his “death” in the secret just to fuck with Charles. This could also imply that other students’ secrets incorporate some level of lies.

If Ellie is alive, I think that the #1 situation is more likely for both questions.

If Ellie is dead, we don’t know exactly when his death happened. Given that Charles cites it under the umbrella of “childhood amnesia,” we can pin Ellie’s hypothetical death down to a time when Charles was a child. The National Institute of Health defines childhood as 3-11 years old. So, if Ellie died when Charles was 3-11, it would mean Ellie’s age of death would fall between 14 and 23.

I made this little moodboard to try to piece together around what age Ellie might be depicted as in the MV based on how DRDTdev has drawn people of various ages before. This is important under the assumption that Ellie canonically looked like this at some point during his life. ‘Cause (picking obviously wrong numbers here), if Ellie had died when he was, like, 2, it’d be weird if the MV showed him when he was, like, 50, right?

Allow me to take a little detour to discuss the Nageishi sisters and establish their ages. I initially ballparked Arei’s age as around 13 in that picture, which would have made her sisters (who are 2-5 years older than her) 15-18. However, there’s some actual evidence we can pull upon to clarify when that image might have come from.

In Arei and J’s FTE, J says that Arei “definitely [*was*] a highschool bully,” and Arei confirms that she was “the queen of her school.” Assuming that these two are to be believed, we can estimate based on the average age at which an American enters high school as a freshman that Arei has been a bully since at least around 14. While I don’t necessarily expect that Arei came in and became the queen bee on the first day of freshman year, it certainly would have been easier to establish her reign if the other students hadn’t previously seen her being bullied and tortured for a year or so beforehand. Therefore, Arei is probably in a maximum of eighth grade (12-13) in that image, so that she would have had enough time to sabotage her sisters before entering high school.

Additionally, although it isn’t stated in the secret the killing game handed out, Arei confesses to David and Teruko that she “got [her sisters] unlawfully sent to reform school.” Through a bit of googling, I learned that many reform schools cap out at about 16-17 years old, although it’s impossible to confirm that without knowing which state Arei grew up in. If that’s the case, then Fuyuko and Natsuko could only be a maximum of 17 years old, which is in the same sort of age range as Arei being a maximum of 15 in that picture. However, I don’t know if the Nageishi parents/the government would find it too useful to send the sisters to reform school for only one year, so it seems more likely that they’re younger than that in the picture. I might ballpark that Arei is 12 and Fuyuko and Natsuko are 15 in the picture.

Anyways, I think we can definitely rule out the possibility of Ellie dying when Charles was on the lower end of the age spectrum. He looks way older than any of the characters drawn “when they were kids”, and notably older than Arei as well. To me, he also looks older than Ryan, meaning he probably reached the age of an 18+ adult.

Unfortunately, there’s a really large age range that’s gone undepicted between the “18+” killing game participants and Mariabella, the only “parent-aged” adult we’ve seen so far. I would probably put Ellie’s appearance between the two, but it’s also possible that his unkempt hair and eyebags are making him look older than he actually was, a la Syobai Hashimoto of SDRA2 (the link is a spoiler-free picture of him). Syobai’s exact age is unknown, but generally young, yet many people think he’s an old man when they first see him. That phenomenon could be going on with Ellie as well.

If he is, we’ll say, 20 or older, though, there’s a limited number of ages he could have died at that would still fall within Charles’ childhood. If Ellie died, he did so when Charles was in the 8-11 kind of age range. Otherwise, for Ellie to reach the age he’s shown at in the MV, he probably survived to grow older than Charles’ family last remembers him. I think Ellie’s death is probably more likely, but, hey, that means we’ve narrowed down the period in which Charles could have acquired his childhood amnesia. That’s something!

#3: How does Charles feel about Ellie?

Well, okay. Obviously, in the current day, Charles doesn’t know who Ellie is, and therefore probably doesn’t have any strong feelings about him other than confusion. But, before Charles forgot about him, what was Charles’ opinion?

I actually thought that Charles really admiring Ellie was a canon fact, but looking back at it, I don’t think it was ever directly stated. That said, there are several reasons why I thought that their relationship was a positive one.

Told you we’d come back to Ellie liking pancakes! I’m sure it’s not a coincidence that, when Charles thinks of what he’d like to learn how to cook, he comes up with Ellie’s favorite food. It could be that Ellie used to make pancakes for Charles, or that they simply used to go out and get pancakes together, but Charles clearly has some sort of repressed memories about pancakes with his brother that makes him want to seek them out again.

We already knew that Charles and Ellie were known to look very alike, and this MV confirmed that was true, down to the length of their hair. If Charles didn’t like Ellie, he easily could have kept his hair short, like the haircut he had as a child, as a way to make them look less similar. However, Charles is very attached to keeping his hair in a long ponytail, just as Ellie wears it. That implies to me that Charles saw Ellie as enough of a role model to seek replicating the image of his brother through his own style even when he doesn’t remember that Ellie existed. That’s powerful.

#4: Why does Ellie look… like that?

Now this is a point that I’m still confused about. Charles’ affluent backstory has been alluded to multiple times. Both his inability to do his own laundry and his lack of knowledge in the kitchen imply that he had people to cook and clean for him. It’s possible that Charles’ parents were the ones doing that for him (which implies some level of wealth, but not so much as living in a house full of butlers and maids), but the general vibe I’ve gotten is that Charles’ family was well-off enough that they hired help.

If we assume that Charles and Ellie are biological brothers who spent enough time together to form a notable bond, it really seems like they would have grown up in the same household for both of their youths, together. So then, what gives with Ellie’s appearance? The patched up jacket, blemished face, and basic cigarette don’t match at all with the pristine white mansion with hedges that many might imagine for Charles. How would that have played out?

Option A: Ellie was the family’s rebellious wild child

I’m having trouble coming up with good examples, but there’s definitely a trope out there of a big brother character who’s a bit of a rude rebel, but still a pure-hearted dreamer that their younger sibling(s) can really look up to. Ellie was just the member of the uptight Cuevas family that couldn’t be tamed, no matter how hard his parents tried to cramp his thrifty style or stop him from going out and partying(?).

Notably, this option is quite confusing for Charles. Even if this figure is considered the typical epitome of cool, I don’t know if it’s someone who Charles would really gel with. As a child, Charles is depicted as pretty wide-eyed and innocent with his adorable little bubbles. I’m not saying that that kind of kid couldn’t come to idolize their rockstar big bro– just that, if they did, they probably wouldn’t turn out like Charles. Still, it could be an opposites attract situation, or perhaps forgetting Ellie and the ensuing trauma changed Charles more than we would have expected.

This interpretation is also… a bit of a leap, considering what we’ve seen of Ellie.

Like, these are not particularly the expressions of a thrill-seeking party animal who loves to crack open a cold one with the boys. Most of his expressions look wary, scary, or contemplative, and even the two that are smiling are doing so in more of a wry/teasing way. Fun-loving scamp Ellie might fit the way he’s styled his body, but not so much the expressions on his face. Perhaps the characterization was a little off?

Option B: Ellie was the family’s edgy black sheep

Instead of Ellie’s cigarette and messy ponytail implying that he’s supposed to be punk and cool, perhaps they’re meant to indicate that he was more emo and nihilistic. I don’t imagine that the Cuevas household would’ve liked this too much either, but it’s still a plausible way for a privileged teen to rebel against his family system. This kind of attitude matches more with the range of expressions we can gather from Yoidoreshirazu.

However, if it would be hard for Charles to relate to the last guy, I have no idea what Charles would be doing looking up to this guy. Maybe if their one-on-one moments showed Charles the soft heart behind Ellie’s tough exterior, Charles would’ve come to appreciate his perspective on life…? Yeah, I don’t really imagine these two enjoying a plate of pancakes together, either. Also, this would have been when Charles was, like, a kindergartener.

But if that’s the case, what then? Is my image of the Cuevas household just totally off? Or is this version of Ellie not compatible with the Cuevas household at all?

Option C: Ellie was kicked out of his family and left for dead

Especially in front of the grimy brick background and neon street sign, Ellie’s worse-for-wear appearance did make me think that this image of him could have been taken from a time when Ellie was without a home and living on the streets. As in, this look was never associated with the Cuevas household at all.

This option has some definite appeal because it allows a lot more flexibility from Ellie’s personality before he was kicked out. He could have been a stand-up guy, smart like Charles and a great mentor too, and only have adopted his more dour personality once he was kicked out of home. There are plenty of reasons why someone could be disowned that don’t (necessarily) reflect poorly on their character: Google lists being LGBTQ+, dating someone of a different race or religion, getting someone pregnant, or not following the profession your parents wanted for you as possibilities, depending on who the parents are and what they believe.

Any interpretation where the Cuevas parents are somewhat ashamed of Ellie would also help to rationalize why Mr. and Mrs. Cuevas lied to Charles about being an only sibling. If they really loved Ellie, they might have tried to bridge the subject with Charles one day, and not let the memory of their elder son fade into history. If he was someone they didn’t want to associate with in the first place, covering up his death would have been much more emotionally viable.

So, if the Cuevas parents are the kind of people to disown their kid for less-than-fair reasons, Ellie could have still been the kind of treasured big brother figure to Charles one might have expected while also getting kicked to the curb. However, this option raises the definite question of… how did Ellie’s death happen?

On the surface, that might seem like a strange question. Sadly, homeless people in the United States have an average life span that’s 17.5 years shorter than the average housed person’s life span, and the number of deaths have only been increasing in recent years. Especially in a civilization that was once home to the biggest, most awful, most tragic event in human history, trying to survive without a home might be quite difficult. 

All that doesn’t really apply to Ellie, though, because we have a pretty decent lead on how he died: dog attack.

Even if he might not remember why, Charles dislikes dogs, and has a remnant of that turbulent relationship etched into his very skin. Ellie actually likes dogs, an interesting point of contrast, but one that makes it clear that dogs are important to Charles’ backstory in some manner. I and others have then speculated that the attack in which Charles got that scar on his arm may have been the time at which Ellie died. Both events– the attack that created the scar and Ellie’s passing– were erased by his childhood amnesia.

The story would play out as something along the lines of “Ellie and Charles used to both really love dogs, and were approached by a dog one day. However, that dog was feral, and attacked Charles. He was bitten on the arm before Ellie told Charles to run as Ellie stayed behind to protect his brother. However, Ellie couldn’t fend off the dog himself, and was instead mauled to death. Charles escaped with an injured arm and a head full of trauma that would cause him to fully erase the memory of his brother from his mind.” Don’t know how feasible that exact scenario is, but I always imagined it as something like that.

So, if Ellie was living on the street at the time of his death, how would the two of them have come together for the dog to attack? Maybe Charles could have been visiting Ellie on his own, but, again, he would have been 8-11 years old at the time. Would the 8-11 year old Charles have really had the means or motive to set out alone to see his brother, and would the Cuevas family have really let their elementary school-aged son wander off into the streets alone?

Then there’s the issue of Ellie’s age again. Look. I’m not trying to say that every 23 year old should be able to 1v1 a feral dog in a fight. I’m 23, and if I had to fight a street dog to the death, I would probably lose! However, while I am a quiet nerd who likes to write thousand word essays about anime video game fanfiction characters in her free time, Ellie seems like a fairly athletic young man. If he looks like Charles, he’s also probably around Charles’ height of 5’9”. Plus, it probably didn’t have to be to the death. Couldn’t Ellie have used those long legs to run away, or his human hands to make an improvised weapon, or something? To me, it feels much more plausible for Ellie to have been killed in a dog attack if he were also a child/teen when it happened. But, that should be incompatible with his appearance in the MV. Unless–

Option D: Ellie became this way… after he was “dead”?

Wait, what? No, wait, I thought I had already determined that Ellie was dead! What do you mean it might ACTUALLY MAKE MORE SENSE IF HE WAS ALIVE??? WHAT HAS THIS MV COME TO?! AAAAAAAAAA–

Well. If this version of Ellie is what he “became” after he faked his death (or had it faked for him), certain elements start to line up. There is no conflict with the Cuevas family, because Ellie’s personality could have been completely different than what we see in Yoidoreshirazu. Similarly, we don’t have to solve why Charles would have built such a bond with this guy because this guy may not have existed when he was interacting with Charles. The brothers growing up in a household together would make it considerably easier for them both to encounter a mean dog at the same time. And, if Ellie didn’t have to reach this 20+ age before he disappeared from Charles’ life, the whole story could have been set much earlier, such that Ellie could have been fending the dog off when he was more of a kid or teen himself. Then, being separated from his family and presumed dead is what caused Ellie to lose his faith in life, take up his smoking habit, and hardly be able to sleep or smile.

This could still involve him being forced to live on the streets, although I would then wonder why he didn’t ever try to get back in contact with his family. Maybe he did and they turned him away? But, if he was an admirable son, I see no reason why they would do that. Perhaps he had expressed a bit more discontentment with the Cuevas family prior, and decided that, given this opportunity, it was for the best to sever his ties with them? That seems like a pretty extreme decision to keep up with given the state that Ellie seems to have wound up in, and would call into question how much Ellie cared about Charles if he was so willing to leave him behind.

It would kind of make more sense to me if, in this scenario, an outside force was stopping Ellie from reuniting with his family– for instance, if XF-Ture Tech offered Ellie a deal like they did to Min (somewhat forcing his hand), which included that he could never contact his family again. That could certainly make Ellie more important to the plot moving forward, and explain part of why he even got this MV. But, what would XF-Ture Tech want to do with some kid who was just near-fatally mauled by a dog attack? An near-fatal attack that… he doesn’t even seem to have scars on his face, neck, or right hand from???

Option E: this is how ellie looks in heaven or hell or whatever i don’t freakin know

Some of you may have been screaming at me the entire time that Ellie’s design may not be “canon,” so to speak, and you know what? That’s valid. It could simply be a projection of what Ellie could have looked like if he’d ever grown to this point in age, or his appearance may have been modified to better match Gumi’s disheveled vibe in the original Yoidoreshirazu MV, and not reflect his true personality. Ellie and Gumi do have really similar poses, cigarettes and all.

However, it would seem a little odd to me to give the audience what’s basically an AU design of Ellie before we got the original version. That would lead to insanely wrong conclusions like what I just wrote above if true, which could potentially cause people to interpret future content incorrectly. That’s not good. Besides, the song was still chosen for Ellie, and the song carries the same sort of gritty, nightlife vibe that the Gumi design does. Could the lyrics of the song really fit Ellie so well that the entire energy of the song and appearance of the MV could be waived?

#5: What’s up with these lyrics?

Sigh. I hate to move on to the next talking point when I haven’t yet resolved what we were last discussing, but, to be honest, I don’t know if I can resolve why Ellie looks and acts like that with the information we currently have. I’m kind of banking on the lyrics swaying me in the right direction when it comes to that interpretation, but given that I’m probably going to have to reverse engineer a lot of the lyrics’ meaning, I don’t have high hopes.

Well, we’ve already seen how I think these lyrics would apply to Rose, so how do I think they would fit Ellie? More questions ahead, but please note that I may be taking certain lyrics more specifically than they’re meant to be interpreted. I don’t have much else to go off of, so for the sake of gaining pretty much any knowledge I kinda have to assume the lyrics are total slam dunks.

#6: What can we learn about Ellie’s personality?

I woke up as an unaware drunkard  All of this bickering goes on til the dawn comes 

Ellie wakes up and immediately begins to complain. Unless he’s bickering with himself, he isn’t alone, although that doesn’t necessarily mean he has friends. In the original song, I imagine this lyric to be more about passersby or the general state of the world, so it could be the same case for Ellie.

In Ellie’s case, it’s unclear exactly what being a “drunkard” means. It could just be the literal interpretation, where Ellie is an alcoholic. I wouldn’t know. Being a drunkard could also extend to being an addict in general— we can be pretty certain that Ellie is a smoker (unless see Option E above). It could also be that the “drunkard” part of the phrase is less important and it’s more just about being unaware. Although, that would require further interpretation for later lines like “getting drunk again and again,” and Drunkard is also half of the song’s title (“An Unaware Drunkard”). Still, Elliot could be enveloped in the same sort of general haze I described back when I gave this song to Rose. Or, he could literally just be a guy that likes to drink a lot. Either way, it gives off the impression of someone who spends more time centered in his own world than butting into others’ businesses.

The singing voices are uncountable And once one gets lost in them, they end up at your xx Hey, look at how pretty it is, the day dream rondo  I hide a thousand and can only spit out ten

More introvert coding– he really doesn’t like being in large groups of people. Ellie keeps the same pretty neutral expression throughout all of these lines in the MV, which makes it kind of hard to discern exactly what these statements mean for him. Like, is “look how pretty it is” supposed to show how he’s easily distracted by dreams and frivolous things, or how he’s using positive things to distract those around him from how he “hides a thousand and can only spit out ten”? In either case, that latter line seems to imply that Ellie is dissatisfied with whatever he’s doing in life (or death?) right now– “can only spit out” makes me think that he feels he should be doing more.

Giving in, I’m living Getting drunk again and again, unexpectedly- Ah, it's not half bad

Ah, the infamous screenshot from the presumed dead man. This smirky face gives some definite context for the attitude of these lines. Ellie seems smug or proud that he’s living… because he’s beating the death allegations? Well, it could also be that he just enjoys living a life of sin (smoking and drinking), and/or enjoys defying the expectations of the Cuevas family in this way. There’s also a certain irony to saying “I’m living” while flaunting a cigarette in his hand. Ellie may also be someone who enjoys tempting fate and defying the odds.

Ellie’s facial expressions with these lines make me believe that he actually thinks that getting drunk again and again is pretty cool, and it’s not just a deflection from a tumultuous mind. Which, again, begs the question of whether the “drinking” is literal, or a metaphor for something else. With not much other information to go off of, I’m kind of assuming it’s both at the moment. Ellie (in this state) probably is someone who drinks and enjoys doing it, but also someone who doesn’t feel any guilt over ignoring– or forgetting– his problems.

#7: Did Ellie also forget about Charles?

There are a strange number of lines in this song that could imply that Ellie isn’t just being ignorant, he’s actually forgetting about something big. That something could be the memory of his younger brother, just like how Charles forgot the memory of his elder. Runs in the family, I guess?

I woke up as an unaware drunkard

Starting at the very first line, you could begin to view the lyrics through the lens of someone who lacked information about their past: “Elliot woke up somewhere random mostly forgetting who he was in a hazy state of being.” To be clear, I’m not saying that that’s the interpretation of the line, just an interpretation of the line. It’s an interpretation that builds further connections with later lyrics, though.

And then   The sacred mountain is covered in mud, it’s smeared and chipping away, ah yes, it's not half bad 

That's my muddy, obstructed, and broken vision of the future- It’s not half bad 

These lines focus on something being damaged or broken. Ignoring the original song’s references to Mount Penglai, which are completely absent from this MV, I would interpret a character’s “sacred mountain” as their central motivation. The pursuit of this goal would be very important, or “sacred” to them, and just as majestic as it is difficult to traverse and achieve. That pairs well with Ellie losing his view of the future, as both indicate that he’s completely forgotten what his purpose in life is.

And yet, he insists that it’s not half bad. Why? The most likely reason is that, for whatever reasons made him look like this, Ellie has just adopted the same sort of fatalistic behavior as Gumi did in her MV. However, you also might not think that forgetting something was bad if you ever forgot that you forgot it. For the majority of his life, Charles hasn’t thought that forgetting Ellie was a terrible ordeal because he had no clue that Ellie even existed. For Ellie, it could be frightening to know that you’ve forgotten a lot of who you are, but also freeing. That dichotomy could be what resulted in his current pensive yet playful behavior.

Getting drunk again and again, unexpectedly- Ah, it's not half bad I'm a drunkard unaware of my rival in love, so 

I'm a drunkard unaware of the story

These lines are ones that really made me think that Ellie could have forgotten Charles in particular. I’m really not sure what “rival in love” was supposed to mean in the original song, but for Ellie, that rival being his brother makes sense. He doesn’t have a lover, as far as we’re aware, but he may have had to fight against Charles for his parents’ affections in the past. Many siblings have a competitive relationship with one another, so Charles could also be described as a rival who Ellie loves. Charles is an easy stand-in for “the story” as well, as long as we assume that the main plot of the killing game is considered “the story.” Charles is a major player in the killing game who’s already been going on a major story arc of his own, and, being Ellie’s little brother, it would make sense if Ellie’s priorities in the story were Charles-focused were he aware of the killing game.

What would it mean if Ellie had forgotten Charles, though? It seems most likely to me that, if both brothers came to forget one another, the trauma would have stemmed from the same event. But, if Charles forgot about Ellie because of that dog attack, Ellie could have only had time to forget who Charles was if he survived for long enough after the attack to have that revelation. Also, don’t know how important this is, but if the attack gave Charles childhood amnesia, would it have had the same effect on a 20+ year old man? I don’t know enough about amnesia to know if the same circumstances that would cause a child to discard their memories would also result in an adult forgetting about aspects of their life. Then again, Ellie almost certainly suffered greater damage than Charles, so any aftereffects may have been more severe.

I obviously can’t declare with 100% certainty that Ellie forgot who Charles was, nor can I even get particularly close. Still, these strange threads seemed to be too prominent to ignore, and this was the best solution I could find to them with the information we know now.

#8: Who is “you”?

Twice in Yoidoreshirazu’s lyrics does the singer reference a character as “you.”

Neglecting my happiness, I never want to sober up until it's time to listen to your voice I’m giving into you, but you don’t even have anything to say and my body is dyed

Please don't let this fleeting happiness go away, until I can lend an ear by your side I’m giving into you, but you don’t even have anything to say and my heart is dyed

This person is quite important to the singer, as the singer craves their voice and succumbs to their person, their body and soul colored by the experience. And yet, there’s a sense of isolation, as “you” refuses to say anything back to the singer. It’s a classic tale of immense devotion met with quiet rejection for Ellie to partake in with… someone. I don’t know who.

For what it’s worth, I do think the lyrics imply that this is another human person as opposed to, say alcohol. While alcohol can certainly have a profound impact on a person, causing their happiness to come and go and changing aspects of their physicality, “you” is referred to with enough human traits that it doesn’t match up. Maybe anthropomorphized alcohol could have a voice, but when has it ever needed you to listen to it? To my knowledge, lending an ear to the bottle itself is pretty unheard of.

So, is “you” Charles? That makes some sense, as Charles is the only relevant character to Ellie’s story that we know much about. Based on what we’ve already established about Ellie and Charles’ probable bond, Ellie could definitely fit the devoted older brother character in one flavor or another. But then, why would Charles have rejected him? Could be the whole childhood amnesia thing, but then Ellie would have had to exist during a period of time when Charles had already developed the amnesia and also remember who Charles was enough himself to care. Charles could have also just not liked him much, but that contradicts with the evidence presented back at Question 3.

Honestly, I don’t think Charles is “you,” despite my lack of other options. Perhaps “we” can figure this out?

worn out, we all look horrible until all thousand voices become hoarse 

Yeah, there’s also a “we” in Yoidoreshirazu, which furthers the idea that, wherever he is/was, Ellie isn’t alone. The lyrics make it unclear whether the “we” is the singer + you (and maybe others), or just the singer + others– I’d probably lean that it probably wasn’t meant to include “you” in the original, but who knows how DRDTdev chose to interpret the song. Still, as alcohol isn’t normally described as “looking horrible,” this further implies that there are other human characters referenced in Ellie’s MV. In the case of “we,” Ellie also has to associate with these people enough to include himself as part of them. He’s in a group. Why? How? When?

#9: What differences are there between this MV and the original?

This one goes out to all the people who thought to go back and check the original Literature Girl Insane MV for differences while we were dealing with that whole project! It inspired me to try the same thing here, and see what happened.

Yoidoreshirazu is a much easier task than LGI, though, because it’s a simpler song and MV on all fronts. Both MVs only portray one character, one location, and one color for the lyrics to be transcribed in. (There’s also only, like, a max of twelve words on screen at a time, unlike David’s mental library.) For the most part, the two Yoidoreshirazus are very similar. None of the lyrics were edited from Magenetra’s translation on the vocaloid lyrics wiki, the lights turn on and off at the same times, and the DRDT version doesn’t appear to include any additional puzzles or easter eggs. Still, they aren’t exactly the same, so I’ll write out the differences I found playing them side by side for both my own and others’ purposes.

Gumi is on screen at the start, then quickly disappears and comes back, while it takes Ellie until the lyrics start to appear.

Not much extra to explain on this point. It may indicate that Ellie was missing or absent for a longer period of time, or at least that he’s more mysterious/quiet than Yoidoreshirazu’s Gumi.

Gumi has her tongue out a lot more at the beginning of the song.

Before Ellie takes off his hood (so, basically for the first half of the song), he only sticks his tongue out for one part of the song, from 0:52 (“getting drunk again and again”) to 0:59 (“my rival in love”). Meanwhile, Gumi has her tongue out from the moment the lyrics start (0:09, “I woke up as an unaware drunkard”) to the end of the first stanza (0:25, “all thousand voices become hoarse”), and then does it again from 0:43 to 0:59, the entirety of the first chorus (“the sacred mountain” to “rival in love”). This gives Gumi the appearance of being more rebellious, while Ellie is more moody.

Gumi smiles a lot more than Ellie.

When Gumi returns from the first chorus (1:00), she’s already smiling. While she shifts from a satisfied smirk to a smug grin to an enraptured beam to a content smile, she doesn’t actually stop smiling from the minute mark on until the vocals stop (2:10). Meanwhile, Ellie doesn’t smile at all until 1:50, and drops the playful tongue-out expression after a mere six seconds. The only lines that Ellie smiles for are “I’m living / Getting drunk again and again– Ah, it’s not half bad,” which is quite interesting. The overall result is the same as the bullet point above; that Gumi is at least better at pretending to be happy while Ellie is lost in his sorrows.

Ellie and Gumi’s expressions are pretty different in general.

Here are all of Ellie’s expressions versus all of Gumi’s expressions. In the end, Gumi actually had more expressions, which I wasn’t expecting. Some of their faces are mirrors to each other, while others are different.

Both Ellie and Gumi have a serious eyes closed face, a bored/neutral face, a bored tongue-out face, a scary face with big eyes, and a sleazy grin. The only unique faces Ellie has on top of those are the more playful tongue-out smile (present only when his hood is off) and the contemplative downward gaze. Gumi has a knowing smile, a hopeful smile, and a content smile. With those differences, we conclude that, on the whole, Gumi seems to have a bit more hope in the world, while Ellie is downcast. I’m sure you couldn’t have guessed that by the results of the last two points (/s).

Ellie has a costume change.

Not hard to notice; Ellie takes his hood off mid-MV while Gumi keeps her outfit the same.

There’s a part of the song where Ellie disappears while Gumi is present.

If anything in this question is going to be important, it’s probably this tidbit. At 1:39 in DRDT Yoidoreshirazu and 1:37 in original Yoidoreshirazu, the line “and my heart is dyed” plays. At this point in the MV, Gumi is present on screen, but Ellie is not. Gumi then disappears alongside Ellie for the following “sore wa” before both reappear for the chorus, but the difference is still notable. Something about the line “and my heart is dyed” caused DRDTdev to remove Ellie from the MV when he otherwise should have been there. This could mean that Ellie’s absence is what caused his heart to be dyed, that Ellie was actually absent when the heart dying occurred, or something else. Regardless, the difference in visuals– especially one that leaves the lyrics as the only thing on screen for you to look at– means that “and my heart is dyed” is likely the most important lyric of the song for Ellie.

Ellie is doing a whole lot more in the final chorus.

This is probably why I thought that Ellie had more sprites than Gumi did, other than the whole two outfits thing. Throughout the entire second chorus, Gumi only uses one face, the smile with big eyes. Meanwhile, Ellie rotates through four different faces before returning to the one he started with; scary stare -> neutral -> eyes closed -> grin -> tongue-out smile -> scary stare. It gives Ellie a whole lot more character than Gumi had in that final portion. Granted, the inverse is also true: Ellie switched faces less frequently than Gumi at the beginning of the song. It leads me to believe that the lyrics at the end of the song may be more important to Ellie than the lyrics of the start, as the end is featured as the most memorable portion.

#10: So, um… What did we learn, exactly?

Honestly… I don’t know. Unlike the Chapter 2 murder, which is intended to be basically solvable, or even the characters’ secrets, which have had much revealed with minimal possible permutations, so little has been confirmed about Ellie that it makes it near impossible to settle on one answer as absolute truth. I can write out my current best theory about what may be going on with Ellie, but it’s honestly so implausible that I don’t really think it’s going to be canon myself.

If we prioritize the information given to us in this music video and the Q&As and disregard the effects that our conclusion might have on the story of DRDT as a whole, then I think the most likely option was actually Option D, Ellie became this way after he died. I think that Ellie was a bright young man– maybe not perfect, but still an older brother that Charles could look up to. Ellie and Charles were really close when Charles was a little kid, and they loved to hang out and eat pancakes together.

One day– maybe when Charles was about 4 and Ellie was about 16?– Ellie saw a dog on the side of the road and, loving dogs, brought his baby brother over to say hi to it. Unfortunately, the dog was feral and mean, and it bit Charles on the arm, injuring him greatly. Defending Charles, Ellie attacked the dog and told Charles to run away for safety. Charles made it back to his parents, bleeding and horribly traumatized, while Ellie did not. Ellie never came back home, so his parents had no choice but to assume he was dead. They chose to conceal the existence of their elder son from their younger, whether to avoid triggering Charles’ phobias or because they too wished him erased from the history books.

However, even though the world believed that Ellie had died, he actually survived!  Though, not in one piece. He was probably severely wounded (perhaps leaving behind scars on any part of his body that wasn’t shown in the MV), and, just like his brother, suffered amnesia that caused him to forget who he was. From there, it depends on how he would have survived the dog attack.

If he barely emerged victorious from the battle due to his own power, then, with no memories, he was forced to live on the street. He gained his washed-up attitude from experiencing life’s hardships while being right on the cusp of remembering something more.

If he received aid from and then was indebted to a group like XF-Ture Tech, he may have been given some kind of help, but not without a cost. He probably started working for them in some capacity, even if he wasn’t a fan of his work/coworkers, and gained his washed-up attitude from years of nihilistically supporting the shady company.

The MV takes place in a time close to present day, when Ellie is reflecting on the state of his life and what he does remember. He hates the people he’s surrounded by, and can only lean on his bad habits (substance abuse and/or appearing more uncaring/airheaded than he actually is) to get by. He knows that he’s a shell of a person with no memories of his past or aspirations for his future, but there isn’t really anything he can do about it, right…? The vague memories of a “rival in love” and a main “story” are the only things giving him a taunting yet unerasable hope.

Woohoo, drama. But, like, that’s ridiculous, right? The secret literally said that Ellie was dead! How the hell could he still be alive? Did the mastermind’s source– whatever it was– just have the facts wrong, or are they actually lying? Wouldn’t the Cuevas family have looked harder for the body? Does amnesia even work like that? Does XF-Ture Tech even work like that???

Needless to say, I am still quite confused. The answer above is still the answer that makes the most sense to me, but it also has its own obvious flaws. I feel like I must just be straight up wrong about the identity of the Cuevas family, the method of Ellie’s death, the age at which Ellie appears in this MV, or something like that, but I don’t know what it would be. Even more than usual, I’d love to hear everyone else’s thoughts on this mysterious character. I feel like more analysis of the guy is going to come out soon, so hopefully some of the more numerical data like trying to pin down Ellie’s age or noticing the differences in the two MVs will help someone else make a breakthrough. Still, I encourage you to come forth with anything you have to say, because I want to hear it.

Thus concludes your instructional pamphlet on how to write an essay on a music video at a rate of 54 words per second of the music video. Thanks for reading!

[bippot]

Pretty please write a Mike Schmidt for me, my sweet dear friend that has made it very clear to me that she's back in her Josh Hutcherson phase? I know that you want to! I'll love you more than I already do ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

I love the Josh Hutcherson renaissance! I've been seeing more Future Man love and content out there and that's great! It's one of my favourite shows. And there something about the FNAF movie that just has crack in it or something cause I've watched it 3 times in the past week.

Summary: Mike and Abby move into a new apartment with a new neighbour, but Mike's old mundane responsibilities still persist. That's okay, his neighbour and her dog are prepared to entertain Abby for as long as he needs.

Additional Tags: Moving, Babysitting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Caretaking, Minor Spoilers, Mike Schmidt Needs a Hug (Five Nights at Freddy's)

Full Masterlist - here

The Schmidt siblings returned to their home after the events at pizzeria and Mike immediately knew that they had to move. The sight of his aunt's dead body on the floor was something that would stick in his brain for a hot minute, and truthfully, he'd seen far too many corpses in the span of 24 hrs than he ever thought was possible.

Vanessa's stabbing and Aunt Jane's murder was reported to the police by the Schmidt's as being done by the same killer - because it kinda was, but also not, but it was thanks to his murderous influence so yeah - although the killer in question hadn't been found when the cops did a sweep of the pizzeria.

So, Mike found a small apartment not that far from Abby's school and they began the process of settling in there. He assumed they'd live in their childhood home until Abby was grown up and wanted to go away to college or get a place of her own, but that wasn't the case.

This new home was smaller and cheaper than the old Schmidt residence, plus it didn't come with a lifetime of memories attached to it. It was an improvement, Mike had to keep reminding himself of that fact as he hauled what few belongings he had left into the back of his car.

All the stuff that wouldn't fit had been sold off and Mike was sad to see a lot of his parents stuff go but it helped him acquire some well needed pocket cash for gas or whatever school supplies Abby needed. Whatever was left was transferred into room 34 of the Greystone apartments.

It was a long process, mostly because Abby was at school and the only other person who'd Mike would ask to help was still recovering. That meant that he had to lift every single box up three flights of stairs since the elevator was currently broken. Or, at least that was what he thought.

After making three trips, door 32 opened and a sweet voice asked, "Would you like some help?" Mike nearly dropped the two boxes he'd stacked precariously in his arms as he spun around to put a face to the voice.

Just his luck! His neighbour was a total babe. To anyone else that would've been excellent news, but to Mike, this ensured that he'd be nervous as hell when entering and exiting his own apartment because his mind would have to be alert in case she wanted to talk to him and get a response that was more than incoherent mumbling.

Look, he wasn't a socially awkward guy. Socially avoidant was the term he preferred. He could hold a conversation with a person, with a woman. With a woman he found attractive on the other hand? Well, he hadn't done that in a while. He was more than a little rusty.

Thankfully, this neighbour didn't seem to notice how weirdly out of his depth he felt. Instead, she nodded towards the boxes he'd been piling outside his front door. "Need a hand with those?" she inquired, voice smooth and melodious like an angel.

He swallowed hard, feeling stupid, but somehow answered anyway, "If you don't mind, yeah, please." It came out sounding like he was choking on his words which, given that he had formed coherent sentences in her presence, was the best he was going to get for now.

"Do you have a U-haul truck full?"

"I, uh, folded the seats down of my Accord and shoved, yeah, shoved e-everything in the back."

"Oh. Smart." She closed her door and gestured for them to start walking towards the exit, and he was happy to oblige. "I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Mike."

Mike wanted to say something, to strike up some really interesting conversation that would have her hanging onto each word he said with rapt attention - but his words died before he could utter them. There were just... no words, no topic of choice, nothing. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. If he tried to speak, he might choke and die.

That would be bad. Really bad.

Y/N didn't seem to mind. She could talk for the both of them, it seemed. Honestly, he wasn't sure what she was saying. He wasn't focused on that. No, he was focused on everything else about her, every movement, every breath, the way her hair fell in her eyes, the way her lips curled into a half smile whenever she made a joke and how it curled even farther up when she laughed. He couldn't stop staring.

Sometimes, he felt like he was a bit of a weirdo. It was a conscious effort of his to notice as much as he possibly could about someone he's meeting for the first time and doesn't understand yet, but there were times - far too many times - when he zeroed in on details that didn't need that much scrutiny. Like, why did she have a very faint scar on the inside of her right bicep? Or pen on her left wrist? Or why was she looking at him like she had asked a question and was waiting for him to respond?

Oh. Because she had asked a question and was waiting for him to respond.

That'll do it.

"Sorry, I totally spaced out. What, umm... what did you say?"

"I asked which car was yours."

It was obvious. It was the Honda they were standing in front of that was filled with cardboard boxes.

"Yeah, this is it. Here we are. This is my car."

"You don't say."

Before Mike could stop himself, he rolled his eyes. It was a good natured, amused roll, but a roll nonetheless. He smiled to himself as he opened the boot and began taking out all the boxes he deemed worthy of carrying to his apartment on this trip.

Together, they got everything from the car into his apartment without too much fuss. It took a while so there had been a few awkward silences, but Mike was slowly progressing in his effort to talk to her without tripping over his feet and ending up flat on his ass. He managed to get his words out without making a complete idiot of himself. It was slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

By the time his belongings were safely in his apartment, it was time to pick Abby up from school.

"To say, to say thank you, would you - you can say no, obviously, - Abby and I are going to order pizza for dinner as a celebration of this place. And because we don't have any groceries yet. If you'd like to, yeah, I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you wanted to join us?" he blurted out in one large breath as they stood in their opposite doorways, half in half out of their living rooms.

"I'd love to, but I'm busy...doing things. Doing stuff."

"Oh. Yeah, of course. Maybe, yeah, maybe another time, then?"

"Uh... Sure, sounds good."

They both looked awkward, and neither of them moved for a beat too long until Mike realised that if he didn't leave soon, he was going to be late for pick up. He gave her one final shy wave before rushing to the stairwell.

Abby wasn't told about the nice, pretty girl from next door that he'd been an idiot in front of so when they'd returned from grocery shopping the very next day and Mike was talking to some lady in the newly fixed elevator, she was a little confused. Because she knew her brother. Her brother didn't get people he'd never spoken to before to smile at him like that.

"Hi Mike," Y/N greeted softly as they approached, giving the dachshund at her feet a gentle tug so he'd give the siblings more space to stand. "I'm guessing you went grocery shopping."

Correct. The hand that wasn't holding Abby's had three heavy grocery bags in it.

"Y/N, hey!" Her brother grinned in a way Abby had never seen before. His cheeks flushed slightly and he cleared his throat, his grin turning shy. "This is Abby. This is my sister Abby."

Something akin to relief flashed across Y/N's face. "Nice to meet you, Abby. Mike mentioned you yesterday, but he didn't tell me how cool your shoes are." She crouched down to pretend to get a better look. "Cupcakes are cool."

Abby giggled at the compliment and pushed her nose into Mike's side. She wrapped her fingers around the edge of her brother's bicep and at the fabric there so he'd lean down for her to whisper in his ear. "She asks, can she pet your dog please? Pretty please?" he repeated. "Why she couldn't ask you, I don't know."

"Tater here would love to be petted."

On cue, Tater barked excitedly and wagged his tail at the prospect of being fussed over. Abby cooed loudly and reached out her hand to pet his head. As soon as her fingertips touched his fur, he leaned into her touch and licked her hand enthusiastically. Abby shrieked in delight at the attention, her small hands flailing wildly for a second before reaching out to stroke Tater's ears. Mike could see the joy in the kid's bright eyes and it sent warmth pooling in his chest.

With Abby occupied, Y/N felt the need to clarify, "I was under the impression yesterday that Abby was your girlfriend."

"Ew, gross."

"That's why I was weird about the pizza. I didn't want to third wheel, you know? Sorry I jumped to a completely wrong conclusion."

At that, the corners of Mike's lips twisted upwards. His shoulders relaxed a fraction as he breathed a quiet sigh. Thank God he didn't weird her out with his odd behaviour.

"No, no, I get it. I'm a guy and I mentioned a girl. It...it makes, well, it makes sense to jump to conclusions, actually." A spark of boldness appeared all of a sudden and forced him to inquire, "Would you have stayed if I had made it very clear that Abby is ten years old and my sister?"

"I would've." Y/N replied instantly. Not missing a beat, she added, "I love free pizza," with a smirk.

Ding. They reached their floor and went their separate ways for now. Abby had to be told quite a few times to stop stroking Tater and come inside, but she was reluctant to. That dog had charmed her to the core, it seemed. Eventually, Abby reluctantly complied and followed her older brother into their apartment.

No more than ten minutes later, Y/N heard someone knocking on her door and opened it to find little Abby on the other side all by herself. "Hey Abby, you okay?" Y/N asked with a warm smile.

"Can I play with Tater some more please?" The little girl put on the most cutesy, pleading smile she could muster and batted her eyelashes in order to make it all the more convincing.

"Did you ask your brother?"

"He's in the shower."

So that's a no. Y/N pursed her lips as she thought of a response. Obviously, Mike would freak out if the child in his care was at a stranger's place without his permission. She had no idea about Abby's temperament either. Would she scream and shout if she wasn't given what she wanted? Would she beg? Or would she just be content and go back to whatever she had been doing in her own home?

"Let me just get a lead." Y/N disappeared from view for a minute and Abby was fully prepared for disappointment so she opened the door to her apartment, just listening for the sound of Y/N's door locking. Yet, she was soon reappearing with the weiner dog on a leash.

The pair sat in their opened doorways and fussed over Tater with enthusiasm only children possessed, ignoring the occasional looks from their neighbours who had to step over the situation to get to their homes. The corridor was filled with girly giggles and the occasional happy yap from the puppy as it happily accepted each scratch and pat Abby gave him.

Mike came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and was fully expecting to walk into his room to get changed directly afterwards. That didn't happen straight away. He noticed the opened door before the chatter and rushed to check that his sister was safe and still in the confines of their new home.

Maybe she was talking to those dead kids again. That was not something he needed right now.

"Abby?" he called out tentatively, but upon hearing no response other than more giggles, Mike stepped closer to the door and was rather confused as to why his sister was sitting in the doorway.

Y/N's eyes widened the moment sexy, dripping wet Mike appeared in view. She gulped nervously and took in his attire for a split second, trying her best not to stare too openly at his body. It was a struggle at best and she had to take a deep breath.

"Look Mike, Tater can do tricks!" Abby cheered happily when she noticed her brother coming closer. "Tater, play dead."

The dog did exactly as the girl said and rolled onto its back, exposing his belly in a way that was just asking for rubs. And Abby was overjoyed to give them to him. Mike couldn't help chuckling at the sight of his sister, who he was pretty sure had instigated all of this, laughing like crazy as she scratched Tater behind the ear, his tongue hanging out of his mouth while he let out pleased barks.

"You're such a good boy," she praised, patting his head gently and causing the dog to roll over again. "Can we get a dog?"

"Well, uh-" He paused, "Can we have this conversation when I have clothes on?" The girl frowned but nodded her head nonetheless. "Great. I will do that then. I'll get some, uh huh, I will stop being so naked now. I promise."

Subtly, Y/N hid her laugh behind her hand as she watched the scene before her unfold. It was adorable watching him struggle to find words.

Sitting together and playing around with Tater in their doorways became a daily occurrence for the girls. Abby would get home from school and count down the minutes till Y/N came back from work, only to turn to look at her brother expectantly. "Can I?" she'd ask every time, and he'd say yes every time. It became a routine between them, one that gave Mike free time to look for a new job.

And eventually, he did find one. It wasn't exactly ideal. The hours were long and overlapped with after school time, but it was in the day, and it ensured that they'd get 20% off their groceries. The supermarket in town was looking for shelf stockers. The pay wasn't spectacular, but it was liveable. There wasn't much customer interaction. His main focus was to refill the shelves and that was it, nothing beyond that.

No animatronics. No ghost kids. No serial murderers - as far as he knew. And definitely no Balloon Boy.

Originally, he wasn't going to take the job. But, he happened to mention it to Y/N one day and she immediately tried to squash his worries. "I can pick Abby up from school on my way home from work and she can hang out here until your shift is over. No biggie," she reasoned, placing her hand reassuringly against his bicep and flashing a smile at him. Mike was hesitant, at first.

On the other hand, Abby was not. She loved being in Y/N's apartment. It looked nicer than their apartment because Y/N had decorations and nicknacks to look at, and a sofa that was far more comfortable than the old, busted one they had, and Tater was there with all his toys and treats. And Y/N had cable too so that meant they could watch Malcolm in the Middle when it was on.

Abby was planning to grab onto this opportunity with both hands as soon as it presented itself.

Y/N arrived at Abby's school and was greeted by the child running towards her excitedly. Her backpack thumped along on her back loudly and her curls jumped as she bounced up and down, clearly very excited to spend her evening with Y/N (primarily Y/N's dog, but hey).

"Hi Y/N!"

"Hi Abs, you ready to go?"

She nodded frantically, a huge grin forming on her cheeks as she handed Y/N a piece of paper. "I drew this for you!" she informed proudly, pointing to a cute little drawing of a very familiar looking puppy curled up in his doggy bed.

Looking at the drawing, Y/N's eyes softened. "Wow! Thank you! It's really, really really good," she praised with genuine happiness as she ruffled the top of Abby's head. "Do you think Tater will like it? Shall we show him?"

That question was all it took to convince the girl to be well behaved and not complain about traffic they had to sit through to get home. She just bobbed her head along to the radio softly, tapping her feet along to the beat on the ground. By the end of the journey, she even began humming to the tunes, making sure to keep her voice quiet enough that she thought Y/N wouldn't be able to hear her singing. Y/N could.

"I missed you!" Abby squealed as soon as she saw the dog lying on his side asleep by the living room couch. She quickly hopped on the floor next to him and started stroking his soft fur. "Tater, wake up so we can play," she whispered, petting him under his chin and hoping he might at least stir awake. After a few more seconds, he finally stirred awake, his little tail swinging from side to side the moment he realised who was stroking him.

Tater attacked Abby with wet, sloppy dog kisses, causing her to giggle uncontrollably at every lick. Y/N stood beside the couch and laughed at the scene before her. The little girl was a picture of pure joy as Tater licked and slobbered all over her face, causing her to fall backwards onto the carpeted floor and cry out in delight.

If anyone deserved to be spoiled rotten, it was Abby. In fact, both of the remaining Schmidts deserved to be fussed over and Y/N was prepared to do just that to them for as long as they allowed her to.

Mike arrived home from his shift at the grocery store tired and sore. Most of his day had been spent lifting boxes from the storage room out onto the floor with only a single person helping him. And it hadn't helped that his coworker was an older lady - she was kind to him but there was no way she was carrying half of this shit - so he literally did all of the heavy lifting. His back ached badly, which didn't help his mood in the slightest.

However, as he entered Y/N's apartment - they no longer knocked and just walked in these days - and was faced the sight of Abby grating cheese at the kitchen counter as Y/N warned, "Careful of your fingies, don't wanna accidentally cut yourself. Take it slow, honey."

A sweet smile stretched across his lips as he closed the door behind him and made his way towards the two women. Neither of them seemed to notice, clearly too engrossed in preparing their dinner to see as he silently leant against the kitchen door frame and watched them carefully.

At some point, Y/N had braided Abby's hair and obviously Abby wanted to return the favour but wasn't all that good at it as the end of Y/N's locks were all bushy and tangled, the ends curling up into knots and sticking out from underneath the bobble. He chuckled to himself quietly, thus gaining the attention of the both of them instantly.

"How long have you been there, creeper?" Abby asked, giving her brother a dirty glare and earning her a chuckle from him once more.

"Long enough," he replied and shrugged his shoulders. "What are we cooking?"

"Y/N's teaching me how to make Cowboy Pie."

His eyebrow raised in amusement. "Is that so?" he hummed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why do you never want to help when I cook, huh?"

"You don't cook. You just heat stuff up."

"Oh yeah? I see how it is," he snickered, but was quick to ask, "Well, you two need any help?" and turned his gaze to Y/N, who simply shook her head.

"Go relax. We've got this," she said dismissively, waving him away with the wooden spoon still in her hand. "Don't we, Abs?" She poked the nodding girl in the cheek affectionately. "See? Everything is alright. Go sit with Tater."

She gave him a gentle push with her hip, prompting him to move into the living room without another word. He sat on the couch and placed his bag by his feet, letting out a huge sigh as his ass hit the soft cushion. He rested his elbows on his knees, placed his chin on his palms and leaned forward so he could see into the kitchen.

Watching the duo cook together was mesmerising. A warm feeling filled his chest and spread throughout his entire body - like fire but not uncomfortable, more comforting, like home. Y/N had such a loving smile on her face while Abby looked content and beamed whenever she was allowed to stir the pot or throw in the ingredients. They were like peas in a pod, Y/N taking care of everything and doing all the things that included knives while Abby tried to follow instructions.

He was completely lost in the scene in front of him until something small and furry pressed itself against his leg. He glanced down and smiled upon seeing the dachshund's black nose pressing up against the side of his pant legs. The dog wagged his tail and then looked up at him, staring with his wide brown eyes, almost pleading for attention. Mike couldn't say no to Tater so he bent down to scratch gently behind his floppy ears.

"Hiya, boy," he murmured happily. "Us guys have got to stick together, right? Can't let the girls boss us around now, can we?" Tater barked and wagged his whole body as if to agree with him.

That meal had to be the best he'd ever had, or at least remembered having. It was mainly potato, sausage, beans and cheese, but somehow, they'd managed to make it taste extra good. Tater was given a sausage or two, so he was beyond happy and fell asleep directly after dinner.

Abby was in a similar state. She'd cleaned her plate then asked for more, which was fine because there was leftovers for her to get through. Her belly was full and she was exhausted, so that meant she could probably sleep through the night. She even fell asleep against Mike's shoulder half way through the episode of Family Feud.

Honestly, Mike was close to dozing off too but kept himself awake long enough to pick his sister up and carry her to her bed. "She's out like a light, how did you do that?" he asked Y/N curiously, his arms wrapped around Abby so she didn't fall out of his grip and slump to the corridor floor.

"It was all Tater," she joked, gesturing towards the passed out puppy lying on his back between the gap between the two couch cushions. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah please."

"Goodnight Mike," Y/N smiled, moving in to peck his cheek before disappearing behind her door.

Once she was gone, Mike released a large exhale through his nose, his eyes now wide open and fixed on the crooked 32 number plate on the wood. He wiggled one hand free and straightened it up, then brought his fingertip to where her lips had just been on his skin and smiled faintly.

"Goodnight Y/N."

Every day was similar to that one - obviously there were slight variations where Abby didn't eat as much, or Tater decided to be yappy that day, or Y/N didn't feel like cooking and ordered something in, or Mike was grumpier - but they were all better than before. Their lives weren't exactly perfect, but this was close enough, really.

For now.

"My boss offered me some more hours, just in time for the holidays - and it's a big upgrade in pay -"

"That sounds great, Mike. What's the 'but'?" Y/N frowned as she placed some freshly cooked lasagna on a plate and placed it in front of Mike.

"It's night shifts and a weekend or two." He shoved a fork full into his mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing and continuing, "You've done so much already and asking you to look after Abby for the entire night... it's too much, you shouldn't have to-"

"Mike-"

"I'll pay you. I promise. Abby told me she wants that Robotic Puppy thing for her present and that's $40 and I said I get that for her to make up for the fact I won't let her get a real dog. Factor in groceries. And bills. And..." he began mumbling to himself, working out all the math in his head. He'd never been all that good at maths.

There was a beat of silence before Y/N let out a small chuckle. "Mike," she sighed again, placing her hand gently on top of his, "It's okay. Really, it is. This isn't a big deal at all. I love spending time with Abby and she loves sleepovers."

Recently, there had been a development in Abby's social life; one that involved more hanging out with her friend outside of school. The new friend had been a late addition to the class and was rather shy, so when she spent her time reading right next to where Abby was drawing, they began their quiet friendship.

"And the weekends?"

"Well, I get Sundays off and Saturdays she can come to work with me. There's always a bunch of kids her age in the library on Saturdays. Yeah, it's all the nerd kids," Y/N explained with a laugh whilst pouring two glasses of wine and handing one to Mike. "Relax, Mikey."

With a final deep breath, he nodded his head, his expression changing as he took a sip of wine. "Okay," he breathed and smiled softly. "Thank you. For today. And last week too. And all the times before that."

"Yeah, no problem," she shrugged casually and sipped from her glass as well, trying her hardest to keep the flush off her face.

Working nights again was not something Mike thought he'd ever do again, yet this time, the scenery was far less alive. No, instead it was just dark and cold. And this time, he actually had job responsibilities and couldn't fall asleep at a desk. He had to lift and sort and clean and sweep and tidy and organise and price check and restock. It was boring, mind numbing and absolutely exhausting and he just wanted to go home to sleep and forget about it all.

What was waiting for him when he got home was something else. Something different, something better.

After putting Abby to bed, Y/N had fallen asleep on the living room sofa, a blanket draped around her and a book about to slip from her fingers. Mike knelt beside the couch and grabbed the book and placed it on the coffee table before giving in to the temptation to brush her hair behind her ear, letting his fingertips linger on her cheek.

"Mike?" Y/N murmured, her eyelids fluttering slightly as her eyes met his own, causing him to bolt away and stand up straight.

"Oh! Sorry," he stuttered, clearing his throat. and scratching at his cheek with a little too much force. "Um, sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

Y/N yawned and stretched, leaning on her elbow and resting her head on her hands as she regarded him. "How was work? Anything interesting happen?" she asked quietly, her voice still sounding sleepy. She ran a hand through her messy hair, messing it up even more and looking adorably groggy, and he had to admit it was kinda hot.

"Not really. The same as usual just at night, I guess."

A hum left her throat and she closed her eyes briefly. When they opened again, they were glimmering with sleepy tears, making them sparkle beautifully. His heart swelled with so much emotion, he couldn't help but stare at them and sigh.

"Abby is -" She yawned again. "Abby's is in my bed. You can leave her there if you want," she murmured, her voice fading to barely a whisper. "You tired? You look it."

"Yeah."

Thanks to the darkness of the room and the bagginess of his clothes, he had the same general shape of a teddy bear - all soft and curly with big brown eyes. That paired with Y/N sleepy kind of not fully woken up state meant that she whispered, "Come here," and held her arms open invitingly. He hesitated for a moment, before finally deciding that he couldn't turn this opportunity down. He crawled onto the sofa and lay down next to her, putting as much distance in between their bodies as he could, which wasn't a lot.

It would've felt awkward to anyone else, but for the two of them it was natural; comfortable and intimate. Y/N snuggled up next to Mike until her head rested comfortably on his chest and he put an arm around her, pulling her as close as possible.

"Y/N?"

"Hmmm...?" she hummed sleepily, her hands coming up under her chin on his chest, looking up at him through her lashes. He looked at her, mesmerised by the gentle glow of the light emanating from the tv screen behind him, before gazing down at her lips, feeling a blush creep up on his neck. He licked his lips nervously and swallowed thickly before he could think twice about what he was going to say next.

"I like you," he admitted bluntly without any preamble, and his eyes widened slightly as soon as the words were uttered. They flew past the tip of his tongue, begging to leave him, and the truth was out there now. In the open and therefore there was no backing out. "Jesus, that made me sound like a middle schooler."

Y/N blinked several times, processing what he said, before smiling warmly and reaching up and stroking his cheek gently. Mike's eyes fluttered shut at her touch, and he leaned into her hand with a contented sigh. "I like you too," she whispered, her smile growing wider and her thumb brushing along his cheek bone tenderly.

"So, um, should we maybe..." he started awkwardly, unsure where he wanted things to go from there.

"In the morning?"

"Good idea."

They fell asleep almost immediately after saying goodnight, holding each other tightly as they slept in a dreamless slumber. A slumber that was cut short when Abby woke them up with a very loud gasp, waking the both of them up. They rubbed at their eyes with the heels of their palms and looked over at Abby who stared at them with wide eyes.

Cheeks flushing red under his sister's scrutiny, Mike burrowed his face in Y/N's shoulder, who just chuckled and curled her hand into his curly hair.

"What's the time, Abs?"

"7:23" came the reply as she pointed at the digital clock on the wall above the TV.

Mike let out a groan of annoyance and pushed his nose further into Y/N. It seemed that once he got some affection, he didn't want to let go. She didn't seem to mind though and laughed softly, shifting a bit to accommodate him.

Or was it to accommodate Abby?

Because Y/N offered, "Well, it's Sunday and there's enough space for three so wanna join, honey?" and Abby was jumping at the chance, clambering on the couch until the girl was lying entirely on top of her brother like a weighted blanket that got slightly heavier as Tater joined in too and curled up between his knees. He grunted at the unexpected cuddle pile but got used to it quickly.

"What do you want for breakfast when we get up?" Y/N asked Abby, stroking her hair away from her face as the child yawned.

"Pop Tarts?"

"I second that," Mike mumbled.

"Pop Tarts it is then," Y/N agreed with a small nod

Somehow, life had got even better.

[awkward-tension-art]

OMG HI, it's my first time making a request ever. So I just finished watching the first episode of Fallout and couldn't stop imagining a one-shot of Leon x reader being the couple getting married (but in this case, no one gets murder). Basically, just fluff and smut inspired from the line where the girl goes "are you're sperm good?" or smth like that.

PLS I'LL DIE IF YOU MAKE IT

Dawg, I’m gonna be honest, I had to find a reaction video on youtube so if I’m missing details, I'm sorry! But you kinda inspired a whole idea of Resident Evil Fallout AU lmaooo. I pictured RE2 Leon for this

I didn’t go smut just because I wasn’t in the mood, but I hope this is OK!

Also, SPOILERS (i guess?) and MINORS GO AWAY

So, lets just say the raiders didn't invade the vault and an actual blight had taken out half of vault 32

So both you and Leon went through the process of the selection. He was…a little less willing. I see Leon as a rather…intimate guy, so getting poked and prodded for a wife he didn’t choose was…not his favorite.

You, on the other hand, were doing what you were taught. You handled the whole process easily enough. You got your wedding dress, got dolled up, and were escorted to vault 32.

The doors were open and the two of you were revealed to one another.

He was handsome, in a boyish sort of way. But he was shy. Very shy. Leon wasn’t even meeting your eye.

He, however, thought you were beautiful.

I personally headcanon Leon as not really seeing himself as a looker. I mean, he wouldn’t consider himself ugly, but he doesn’t really consider himself attractive either.

So…you can imagine when he saw you, his heart pretty much jumped out his throat.

“Hi.” you smiled at him so sweetly, introducing yourself, “Your name?”

“Leon.” he cleared his throat

You could hear someone behind you whisper, “lucky…”

The wedding proceeded that same night. To you, this was doing a duty. While you didn’t know Leon, you had hope that you both would find love in eachother. Meanwhile, your husband-to-be was still nervous. He even looked terrified to a degree. He kept his face down.

You were the one who initiated the kiss when the preacher said “you may now kiss the bride!”

Luckily during dinner you managed to chat a bit. You found out Leon was trying to become vault security. He didn’t have parents after losing them years ago during the chaos of the blight. And he likes dogs.

That was all well and good, but finally you asked the important question, “What's your sperm count?”

Leon choked on his drink. Immediately he was flustered, “I…um…”

“You know it's important we have kids. For the genetic stability of the vaults. Didn’t your vault doctor tell you this?” You pressed.

“I…yea..she did…” Leon was clearly knocked off his feet, “Just…wanted to get to know you a bit more…”

“Oh.” You had to remind yourself that he was leaving his vault. His friends and home were being taken from him to come to your vault. He was in over his head and the least you could do was be understanding.

Once the wedding was over, you took his hand and led him to your new living quarters. Leon was uncomfortable, anxious and very much not sure what to do. He listened and nodded along to what you were saying.

However, once everything was said and done, “Are…you ok?” You asked, seeing how closed off he was. 

“Yea…just…overwhelmed is all.” He responded, not meeting your eye, “can…we…take things slow?”

You couldn’t help but smile, “yea, i’d like that.”

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 365. brb x oc

a/n: sorry for not possting guyssss(comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

/316/317/318/319/320/321/322/323/324/325/326/327/328/329/330/331/332/333/334/335/336/337/338/339/340/341/342/343/344/345/346/347/348/349/350/351/352/353/354/355/356/357/358/359/360/361/362/363

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca @callsign-magnolia @mrsbradshaw01

-

Beatrice wasn’t waiting for anyone and she was busy pulling the Halloween decorations from the attic when she heard the doorbell. The dogs immediately perked up and Nicole stopped sitting on top of Jack to stare at it, “...mama?”

Bea frowns, then clears her throat, “Roos?” she calls and her husband’s footsteps thud over, he looks from her to the door, “...could you…uh…open it?”

Rooster glanced at Beatrice, "What, are you scared it's a trick-or-treater?"

Beatrice rolled her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. "No, I just have my hands full with these decorations," she replied, gesturing to the box of Halloween decorations in her arms. "Besides, you're the one with the muscles, remember?"

Rooster chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way to the front door. "Alright, alright, I'll handle it," he said, flexing his arms to her, “Only because you asked nicely.” He reached for the doorknob and pulled the door open, then he paused, furrowing his brows…”Hello?”

“Bradley Bradshaw?”

He frowns, straightening his posture so he could appear bigger to this man…he felt…like he knew him. He also had a mustache, he was as tall as he was and they did look like a similar “...how’s it going man.” he smirks, ‘Been a while,knucklehead.”

Wait.

Rooster widens his eyes, “Holy shit,John?!”

John's eyes lit up with recognition as he grinned at Rooster. "Damn right, it's me! Can't believe it took you that long to figure it out, Bradshaw," he teased, “Took you so long,huh?”

Rooster laughed, stepping forward to pull John into a tight embrace. "Man, it's been too long," he exclaimed, clapping John on the back. "What brings you here?"

John pulled back, “I’ve been trying to find you, you left Virginia and you just disappeared because of the Navy,right?” his eyes drop to Rooster’s hand,”...and you got married too?”

“Well,yeah, I joined the Navy after high school," he confirmed, his eyes dropping to his wedding band. "And yeah, I got married a few years ago."

"I heard about your deployment overseas," he said quietly, his tone sympathetic. "I tried reaching out, but I guess I didn't have the right contacts."

“...right contacts?”

“Yeah, guess they wouldn’t allow me to talk to you unless we’re family.”

A very long pause followed. So long that Beatrice herself leaned back to see what was going on. 

Rooster licked his lips as he propped his hand on his hip “...you…you are the John we were told about?”

John's expression shifted, surprise flickering across his features. "Told about? What do you mean?" 

Rooster hesitated, unsure of how much he should reveal. He exchanged a glance with Beatrice, silently communicating with her before turning back to John. "We were...told that someone named John was saying to be my uncle and wanted to talk to me," he explained carefully, choosing his words with precision.

“Oh. Ohhhh,hah that…yeah I mean I said it as a joke.”

Rooster raised an eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "A joke?" he echoed, in disbelief.

John scratched the back of his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, you know, just messing around," he replied, his voice slightly strained. "I didn't think you'd take it seriously."

Rooster's jaw tightened as he processed John's words, and he…didn’t know how to feel about that. Clearing his throat, Rooster forced a tight smile. "Well, you got me," he said lightly, though there was a hint of disappointment in his voice. "So, what brings you here, John?"

John's grin faltered slightly as he sensed Rooster's tension, but he quickly regained his composure. "Oh, you know, just passing through town and thought I'd drop by," he replied casually, his tone overly nonchalant. “And you know, wanted to see one of my best friends from school, ‘cause of the reunion.”

“...reunion?”

“From High School!” John smiles, “Didn’t you get anything in the email?”

Rooster blinked…did he? Honestly he often skimmed over his emails so quickly he probably missed it entirely, “...I’m not sure.”

John's smile faltered at Rooster's response, disappointment flashing in his eyes. "Oh, uh, well, maybe it got lost in your inbox or something," he replied, "But yeah, there's a high school reunion happening next month. I thought you'd be interested in catching up with everyone."

Rooster's mind raced as he tried to recall if he had indeed received an email about the reunion. "Yeah, I must have missed it," he admitted,"But thanks for letting me know."

Beatrice stepped forward, offering John a warm yet careful smile. "It's nice to meet you, John," she said politely, extending her hand. "I'm Beatrice, Rooster's wife."

John's eyes lit up with surprise as he shook Beatrice's hand. "Nice to meet you too, Beatrice," he replied, his tone friendly. "Wow,he's a lucky guy." he chuckles,”Never thought you’d go for–” neither Bea or Rooster breathe, both expecting John to say something about Beatrice’s curvy body, “-brunettes.”

Oh.

Whew.

Rooster managed a strained chuckle, though inwardly, he bristled at John's comment. He shot a quick glance at Beatrice, silently communicating his discomfort, before turning back to John with a tight smile.

"Right, well, I'll keep that in mind," Rooster replied, his tone guarded. "Anyway, it was nice seeing you, John. How…did you get our address again?”

John's grin widened, seemingly oblivious to Rooster's discomfort. "Oh, I just asked around," he replied casually, his tone nonchalant. "Figured someone in town would know where to find you."

Rooster's brows furrowed slightly at John's response, a flicker of unease stirring in the pit of his stomach. He exchanged a glance with Beatrice, silently communicating his concern, before turning back to John with a forced smile.

"Well, I'm glad you…found us," Rooster said diplomatically,  "But we're actually in the middle of something right now, so..."

John's smile faltered at Rooster's abruptness, his expression shifting to one of disappointment. "Oh, uh, yeah, no problem," he replied, "I didn't mean to interrupt, I just wanted to say hi. It’s been so long!"

"It's fine," he said curtly, gesturing towards the parked car not far from there. "We'll catch up another time, okay?"

“Yeah, sure. Of course.” John hesitated for a moment, then gave them a small wave before turning to leave. As he walked away, Rooster couldn't keep his eyes off of him, wanting to see him enter the car and leave.

Beatrice watched John go with a furrowed brow, her mind racing with questions and concerns. She turned to Rooster, "Do you think he's telling the truth about just passing through town?" she asked quietly, her voice laced with uncertainty.

Rooster sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I honestly don't know," he admitted, his tone heavy with frustration. "I haven’t seen the guy in years and to find out he is the one saying to be my uncle? Kinda creepy.”

“Were you two close?”

“We had friends in the same groups.” Rooster says, “Back when we were like, fourteen maybe? He was a funny guy but,I don’t know why he thought this whole idea was hilarious.”

Beatrice nodded, her gaze lingering on the spot where John had disappeared. "It's just strange that he would show up out of nowhere like that," she mused, her voice tinged with concern. "And claiming to be your uncle? That's...unsettling."

"Yeah, it doesn't sit right with me either," he admitted, his tone tight with unease. "I mean, why would he suddenly decide to reconnect after all this time? Just because of the reunion– which I’m not going by the way.”

“You are not?”

“No,I’m enjoying my extended leave with you, not with those people.” he mutters, “The kids are growing and I’m not here to see it, the dogs are starting to grow old too, I’m not going to waste my time in a reunion.”

"Family time is more important than any reunion."

Rooster's tense expression softened at Beatrice's words, a wave of gratitude washing over him. He squeezed her hand back, offering her a grateful smile. "Thanks, Bea," he murmured, his voice sincere. "I'm glad you understand."

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of John's unexpected visit hanging heavy in the air. Beatrice's mind raced with questions and concerns, but she pushed them aside for now, focusing on the warmth of Rooster's hand in hers.

After a moment, Rooster cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Well, let's head back inside," he suggested, his tone gentle. "We can talk more about this later, once the kids are asleep."

Beatrice nodded in agreement,  but looked over her shoulder one last time before stepping in.

-

“So,John.”

“Mhm.”

She leans back on the couch while holding her wine glass, “You two were friends.” Rooster nods, “Did you stop being friends or…time separated you guys?”

Rooster took a sip of his own drink before replying, his gaze distant "We drifted apart," he admitted, "Life took us in different directions, I guess."

Beatrice nodded, her expression thoughtful as she processed Rooster's words. "That happens," she agreed, her voice soft. "People change, circumstances change. It's just a part of life."

"Yeah," Rooster agreed, pursing his lips. "But it's still strange to see him after all this time. I never expected him to just...show up out of nowhere…or how he did. I don’t think what he did is even legal."

"So," Beatrice leans on a hand, "what do you think we should do about John?"

Rooster furrowed his brows in thought, his mind racing with possibilities. "I'm not sure," he admitted, his tone troubled. "I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but...I also don't want to ignore the fact that he showed up unannounced,kind of."

“It does seem weird he just wanted to…uh…revive the friendship.”

“Honestly, he was always…uhhh…”

“Eccentric?”

“Weird.” Rooster says, “He did have this weird,I don’t know, idea he was the leader of our group or something.” he gently scratches Jolene’s head with his free hand, the pittie huffing happily below him, “And,maybe,well…well maybe he does want to meet everyone again?”

Beatrice nodded slowly, "Maybe," she agreed, her tone cautious. "But even if that's the case, his approach was...questionable, to say the least. It's not like he reached out beforehand or anything."

Rooster sighed, his shoulders slumping with frustration. "Yeah, you're right," he admitted, his voice tinged with irritation as he spun the glass in his hand. "I just wish he had handled things differently. If he really wanted to, you know, meet again."

"I know, Roos," she said softly, her gaze filled with empathy. "But we can't change what's already happened. All we can do is figure out how to move forward from here." she smiles, “That won’t cause you any trouble,right? Especially with your promotion ceremony this weekend?”

Rooster's expression softened at Beatrice's concern,"I'll figure it out, gorgeous," he replied, his voice steady. "I won't let anything or anyone ruin this weekend for us."

Beatrice smiled, a sense of relief washing over her at Rooster's words. She leaned in closer to him, her hand finding his as she squeezed it gently. "I know you will, Roos," she murmured, her voice filled with confidence. "You always do."

‘Aw,” he smiles, “Keep that up and I might fall in love with you.”

Beatrice chuckled "Careful, LC," she teased, her tone light and teasing. "You might just find yourself head over heels."

Rooster grinned, his eyes sparkling with affection as he met Beatrice's gaze. "Wouldn't be the first time," he replied, his voice soft with adoration. "But seriously, Bea, I’ll be okay. I can always talk to Mav and Cyclone,say this whole thing was……a huge misunderstanding because of a former friend of mine.”

Beatrice nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "That sounds like a good plan," she agreed, her voice filled with reassurance. "Having Mav and Cyclone's support will definitely help."

“Yeah…” he blinks, “But…I might talk to John again.”

“...really?”

“Yeah…” he frowns, “...I just remembered something…and i think it’s important.”

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Love Song for a Vampire Pt.28

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader Warnings: sweet moments, tree climbing Words: 2278  Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26  Part 27  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39

“So that’s it then? You’re just going to roll over and let that dog have him?” Irina accosted Tanya back in her room, not bothering to keep her voice low for their guest that slumbered just down the hallway.

Tanya envied the girl for not just having Edward but also for being able to escape reality with sleep. Sleep was something Tanya dearly missed although she couldn’t remember what it felt like to be vulnerable in unconsciousness.

Her fingers rub at her eyes. “What do you want me to do, Irina? Edward has made it clear many times that he doesn’t want me. I’m exhausted of this. Let him have a mate that will drag him into danger. That seems to be what he wants.”

Like a caged animal, Irina paces back and forth further vexing her adoptive sister. “The audacity of him bringing that thing here. . . Our natural enemy. . . I don’t understand what’s going through the Cullen’s heads. Do they really desire the wrath of the Volturi? it’s like they don’t remember what happened to Sasha and Vasilii?”

“Enough Irina!!” Tanya exclaimed, startling the other. “It’s done with. I get the hint. I finally get the hint.” Her voice cracked but Tanya ignored it. “At least a wolf is better than a human. At least she’s from our world and won’t be easily killed.”

Irina’s red lips sneer. “You’re spineless.”

Already exhausted, Tanya snapped at her. “Get out of my room.”

She does so but not before slamming Tanya’s bedroom door to the point that the doorframe splintered.

Tanya sighed, finally allowing herself to sit down on her rarely used bed. Irina just made her mood even worse. But. . . Releasing Edward took a heavy weight off of her shoulders. Something she didn’t know she’d been carrying around for all these years. Maybe it was the fact that she’d never been denied by a man before. Not even other male vampires turned away from her advances. Edward though had always been a different story.

She wouldn’t lie if anyone pointed out that it hurt her pride. That and how could she not fall for someone like him? He was chivalrous, a real gentleman. Somehow through all the horror he’d been through, Edward still maintained the gentleness of a human soul. Incredibly rare among vampires, it was all the more endearing to Tanya. She could see a future with him. A mate to call her own. Edward never thought of her like that though.

Her eyes burned viciously with tears she could no longer produce. This was a long time coming but it was still painful. Especially having to see them together shy as they find footing in their new relationship.In that aspect, Tanya would admit that they were cute together in an odd way which made her feel even worse.

She'd never seen Edward like that after decades of knowing him. He was always calm and collected and annoyingly stoic at times. That flash of anger he'd shown her was alarming as was his helplessness toward the situations facing him. Her own life hadn't gone quite as planned. A young Tanya would have never guessed that she would be turned into an immortal creature that survived off of the blood of others. Life was funny that way. Even after being turned there were surprise twists that caught her off guard like Sasha breaking one of the Volturi's most important rules: not turning children. They still had no answer as to why Sasha would doom herself like that. She'd known it was illegal and the penalty was death. Not just her death but the destruction of the newborn she had created so flippantly. The scene forever clear in Tanya's memory banks. She still remembered the red eyes of Dimitri, Felix and Marcus. How after the execution of Sasha, the went after the immortal child Vasili. He especially would not be spared even if he was guiltless. By the law of nature he especially shouldn't exist. Even among vampires, turning children was considered an abominable act.

Edward was no exception to the game of fate.

Neither was that wolf girl.

**

Your sleep was fitful at best since you found it difficult to even relax enough to fall asleep. The predator in you would not be lulled, not when it smells adversaries in the same living space as you. Both human and wolf were somewhat grateful when the sun finally began to stream through the window curtains. You wouldn't have to keep forcing yourself into a sleep that was alluding you.

The electric clock that was on the nightstand told you that you had only been asleep for a handful of hours.

Brain already alert, you start washing up and attempting to look presentable. You were brushing out your hair when you smelled it: pancakes. A loud gurgle rips from your stomach and you can't remember the last time you ate. It must've been when Edward had stopped for gas and you got down to get some road snacks. Even that impromptu meal consisted of food that lacked nutrition.

Delectably tempting, you allow your nose to lead you outside of the guest room you’d occupied and into the hallway.

The second level of the grand Denali house was large to accommodate all of its occupants. Halls in the shape of a giant ‘L’ shape. Guest room was at the far end, closest to the staircase. Much like the outside of the cabin, the inside was fashioned with dark woods.

You turn when you hear someone making their way up the steps. Edward stops halfway up and smiles at you. “How did you sleep?”

Hating that exhilarating shyness his smile reduced you to, there was nothing you could do about the grin that spread across your lips. You lie and assure him you were well rested. Acting the part was easy for you considering adrenaline was pumping through you from the very moment Edward pulled the car into the long driveway that led to their hidden home.

“Kate’s made you some breakfast.” Edward gestures with his head downstairs.

As if in a reply, your stomach lets out a whiney growl.

Edward full heartedly laughs. You follow him down and into the kitchen.

Seeing a vampire doing simple domestic things was an odd scene to stumble upon. Kate was just setting down a plate with three perfectly shaped pancakes. Did they happen to have ingredients for pancakes or were they bought specifically for your visit? There was no reason for a vampire to have human food in their pantries and fridge. From what you knew about the Cullens, you knew their cooking appliances were simply for show.

Tanya has her back pressed against the fridge, watching her sister until you and Edward walk in.

”Good morning, (y/n).” Kate looks up at you with a pleasant smile. “Edward, we would like to speak to (y/n) privately.”

Worriedly he glances at you. You nod confidently and shoo him off with your hand.

Reluctantly he leaves you with them.

“Thank you for breakfast. I appreciate but you really didn’t have to.” You take the chair where the plate had been set in front of. Internally you were scolding the hairs on your neck that were stick straight up. The scent of unfamiliar vampires really did a number on you. You felt the smallest of tremors run along your spine.

“It was no trouble at all.” Kate waves you off and takes the seat across from you. Tanya stays put where she is but turns her body toward where you and Kate are sitting. “Despite all that’s happened with your pack and Laurent, we want you to feel welcomed. Edward and all of the Cullens have been are greatest friends for years.”

“Which leads me to apologize for how I came out you.” Tanya begrudgingly tells you. “You’re here on a mission of diplomacy and have done nothing but be polite.”

A moment was required to observe her and see if she really meant it. Tanya held your gaze in complete earnest.

“Thank you. I understand your apprehension though. As for Irina. . . I would say my pack regret killing Laurent, but we were just doing our job in protecting the humans of Forks.”

Tanya shook her head. “Laurent didn’t even stay with us for that long. Personally, I was never attached to him.”

“He spent enough time here to enarmor Irina.” Kate points out. “You and your pack were in the right. He was acting upon aggression.”

Pushing off the fridge, Tanya goes over to the table. “You have to understand something about the three of us though. The Volturi killed the woman who created us because she broke a tenant law. We all watched her head be wrenched from her shoulders. When they find out about Bella and Edward, they will come. The punishment will be most severe when they discover the wolves.”

“I’ve been told it’s not wise to get on the Volturi’s bad side.” You nod and put your first forkful of pancake into your mouth. Your tastebuds celebrate. “From what I understand though, is that the wolves the Volturi hunted centuries ago are different from us. At least that’s what the Cullens and Sam have decided.”

“They will not care of your origins. Only that you are natural born vampire killers. You existence still poses a threat to them.” Tanya grimaces. “And Irina. . . Well, we’re concerned what Irina might do behind our backs. We only hold so much influence over her. We fear that out of spite she may alert the Volturi herself about you.”

Kate says in acknowledgment “She’s always been the most stubborn in her convictions. We really do want to support you and the Cullens. They’ve helped us numerous times. It would be nice to return the favor.”

“Kate and I talked it over last night. We’ll do our best to change Irina’s mind but if she does end up going to the Volturi. . .” Tanya flinches at her own words, not wanting to speak them aloud. She didn’t want to entertain the idea of punishing her sister.

“We’ll figure it out if it comes to that.” Kate places her hand over Tanya’s and gives it a squeeze. They were as much of a family as the Cullens, you realize. Her placating hand was indeed enough to comfort Tanya for she smiles gratefully and nods. “And when the time comes to fend off the Volturi, we will be by your side.”

There was an overwhelming wave of relief that had you wanting to cry and laugh at the same time. No words could be found to express the depths of your gratitude. A few more allies added to your roster.

After breakfast there was still no sign of Irina but Eleazar informs you and Edward that Carmen was out in the woods with her to have a heart to heart discussion.

You and Edward would be returning to Forks the same day. Your adrenaline may have diminished after your talk with Kate and Tanya but you still missed home and longed to return to your furs. Even going a day and a half without transforming made your human skin itch. You’d have to ask Sam if that was normal and if he experienced anything similar.

To pass the time, Edward and Eleazar show you to outside their house and the natural beauty of Alaska. When the house was being built, they made sure to have it so hardly any trees would be knocked down. They wanted the house to be as immersed in the natural backdrop as possible.

Summer heat warms your skin, crisp air almost singe your lungs. You ran your fingers over the coarse bark of towering trees and close your eyes to listen to the regional birds sing. Even better was Edward next to you right in the sunlight. The skin of both he and Eleazar were illuminated by the sun’s light. Certain angles gave them the affect of glittering even.

Eleazar caught you staring, he smiles and explains the unique qualities of vampire skin. Their diamond-like skin reflected sunlight prismatically. There was still so much you were learning about vampires.

Another hour was spent just enjoying the outdoors. You climbed trees to get a better view, amazed by how fast Edward and Eleazar could scale them. Getting to the top was quite the experience. The sky above was the most gorgeous shade of blue with whisp of clouds dotted here and there.

Carmen was waiting for the three of you in the backyard. She smiles at the exhilaration that had been on your face prior to spotting her. “Did you guys have fun?”

Edward, at the mention of how they spent the afternoon, smiles. “Yeah. Really fun. Irina?”

She sighs and leans against the outdoor furniture. “I’ve settled her down but she needs more time. Right now she’s just grieving what they could have been had Laurent not been killed. There’s not many opportunities for finding a mate living here. Even before we joined them, they hadn’t encountered many male vampires that weren’t complete jerks.”

You guess since not many vampires congregate together that not all would be lucky like Carmen and Eleazar.

“We’ll keep a close eye on her though.” She says with a hopeful smile.

“Thank you, Carmen.” You and Edward accidentally say at the same time. Her laugh is so soothing that you don’t even feel embarrassed.

She actually embraces you tightly. “Both of you should get going, but I’m so happy that you were able to come (y/n).”

“Me too.”

——

TAGLIST: @saltedcoffeescotch , @dangerouslittlefairy , @burn-crash-rqmance , @casedoina , @avadakadabra93 , @daryldixonstorm , @blue-aconite , @xanniestired666 , @esposadomd, @godinho11 , @arin-swear-rose , @alexizodd , @melaninsugarbaby , @lyeatoalinatoheaven  , @ronwownsme , @itsmytimetoodream , @afro-hispwriter , @mutandis-extremis993 , @hxgemxscles , @nightly-polaris , @corrodedcoffins-slut , @ellesalazar , @itgetzweird08​ , @crybabyatthediscooffandoms​ , @sassyandclassyx​ , @scarlet2007 , @theroyalbrownbarbie , @jennyamanda8 , @stevenandmarcslove , @biancaindaeyo , @loversjoy , @turningtoclown , @vixorell , @xxthackerybinxxx , @daredevilonmyheels , @dumbbitch-juice , @southern-bell-give-hell , @nat-the-gemini , @imdoingathingmom , @emmettcullenswife

[saxandviolins88]

Since you and I both have such a bone to pick with John Barber's writing and I rarely see people criticize the actually offensive things he wrote, I wanted to send you an ask about this thing that has bothered me for ages: one of the issues by him I especially hated was RID #32, where he wrote Prowl thinking it was a good idea to point a gun to Jazz's head to get his attention (!) but then Barber also tried to tack on some kind of friendship moment at the end of the issue anyway? How he think he could have both? I mean, that's obviously ridiculous and racist (and Barber making it so that Jazz was also once a cop does not improve it).

But there's another minor thing—um. Why did Barber also have Jazz making fun of Prowl's weight in that issue??? What was that? And isn't it extra weird when RID Prowl is a character with a distressingly THIN waist??? There are tons of amazing fat Autobots like Ratchet, Ironhide, Inferno, Grapple, and Trailbreaker, so this felt extra disrespectful. How could anyone look at Jazz and be like, you know what would make this character better? If he made fatphobic jokes! —arceespinkgun

Oh! RID is Gr8! Except when it's not.

It's so odd, there WAS actual good character work in JB's work... But when there wasn't, you get someone like Jazz.

Jazz, for me, in the hands of John Barber is really a lost character, he tries to cling on his G1 personality while still adding that gritty John Barber grime of his, but I feel it doesn't work. Especially when he brings in Costa's god-awful writing, yeah, I know JB's thing is building on what came before (take a shot every time AHM comes up), but the cop murder stuff was egregious and brought Jazz's character down imo.

Let's go to the beginning of RID, shall we? Jazz after the war basically becomes a NAIL, which I loved actually! The whole theme of RID is moving on from the war and the past! It does get derailed a little when issue #15 comes in and we have Jazz saying Sky-bite (Decepticon turned NAIL) should help the injured because all he has been is a stone-cold killer (not murder-hobo levels of fanon, but eh). But his "moving on" arc is quickly(?) resumed when he DOESN'T join the Autobots in exile and joins Starscream... as security? OH-KAY!

This whole "NAIL" Jazz doesn't last, as RID #31 makes a point to have a flashback scene to remind us of the JUSTIFIABLE cop murder and have him back in the Autobots after he's doomed to the cop purgatory.

Granted, I'm making my way through the "Optimus Prime" comic book, I tried to read those but got bored(I get bored easily sorry) - I'll make an addendum if I have anything to say about that.

What really bothers me with JB's RID Jazz is that he seems really locked in that role, but I don't have any suggestions that wouldn't be awfully anti-Barber, yk? Like 'forgetting that dog-shit Costa plot point' isn't something he'd do. Hey, but imagine Jazz helping rebuild Cybertron along with Wheeljack or something idfk.

Also, having THE black Transformer be associated with violence, cop violence more specifically, is sure a decision ig.

LOL that bit in RID #32 is SO CLUNKY!! It's a shitty pay-off to a cliffhanger on RID #31!! The cliffhanger that was just made to make the reader wonder: "Is Prowl betraying the Autobots?!" This was the game JB was playing in the Earthfall arc, which was the arc that made it clear that Prowl really is JB's favorite character...

WDYM? I LIE AWAKE WANTING ALL MY FAVES TO BE FATPHOBIC??!? sigh... John Barber is my greatest enemy.

But take my opinion with a grain of salt, maybe when I finish OP it all makes sense and it was just a long game.

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 32

WARNINGS: British swearing, light kissing

"What... exactly do you mean by that?" you ask, confused but intrigued.

George comes around to face you, reluctantly letting go of your waist.

Now the twins stand side by side before you, both absolutely bubbling with excitement. They obviously want to spit everything out at once, but they control themselves and talk slowly.

"We've been planning something... something big for a long while now," says George.

Fred nods enthusiastically in agreement. "Even before we met you. And before we met you, our Skiving Snackboxes were the only thing left to complete."

"You, of course, helped us immensely with that," George continues. "Damned nougats. I don't think I'll ever eat another one again... Anyway, we not only gained the perfect counter recipe for the nosebleed nougat..."

"We were also so very lucky to find the perfect girl—"

"Wait, wait, wait," you interrupt Fred, holding up a hand. "Rewind. What is it that you've been planning?"

"Right, we're getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we?" Fred chuckles.

"We are going to leave Hogwarts," George breathes. He and Fred watch you intensely as you absorb the new information.

You can't quite grasp the idea at first. "Just... leave?"

George runs a hand through his red hair nervously. "Well, yeah. But, as I said, we have a plan..."

You remain silent and concentrated as the twins go on to explain everything. They remind you of how it has been their dream to someday open their own joke shop. You learn that Harry (who had won the Triwizard Tournament the previous school year) ended up giving his prize money to Fred and George so they could do just that. That is why the twins had been so eager to finish the Skiving Snackboxes, for one cannot have a shop without enough products to sell.

"We've never been real fans of school, and that bloody Umbridge only gave us more reason to get out of here as fast as we can," George snorts.

"And we want you to come with us," Fred says, smiling softly.

You don't know how to respond. Your mind spins with questions as you still struggle to comprehend the twins' words: leave Hogwarts? With Fred and George Weasley? What would your life turn into if you did? What would your parents say? What would anyone say...?

It's all too much, and you suddenly feel lightheaded, but by sheer willpower you stay standing. This moment is too important to have you passing out.

"You want me... t-to live with you?" you stutter in disbelief.

There's a moment of silence as the twins exchange looks of concern. When they meet your eyes again, it is with the most sincere expressions of adoration.

"I hope it's been quite obvious for a while now," Fred says, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks into your eyes with a focus that makes you feel like the only girl in the whole world. "Though you do have a habit of overthinking things... Y/n..."

"We love you," Fred and George say in unison.

"I love you," says George.

"And I love you," says Fred.

They said it. They said those three little words, and it's to you. Fred and George Weasley love you, together and individually.

George then speaks in a tone you have never heard from him before. It's very quiet, humble even, yet emotional. "We would be the most fortunate of men if you would have us..." He looks down at the floor for a brief moment, clearing his throat as if he has more to say, but he doesn't continue. He instead looks up at you with the biggest puppy-dog eyes, and you can't tell if he's doing it on purpose.

"Aww..." You can feel yourself blushing extremely. "I don't know what to say other than I love you, too," you giggle, choking back tears of joy. "More than you can imagine."

"Oh, I'm sure I can imagine just fine," Fred snorts as he and George observe your expression.

"Yes, you would be living with us," says George after a moment. "But..." He chooses his words carefully. "...it would be so much more than that." He reaches for your hands and engulfs them between his own large, warm palms.

Fred nods. "We would take care of you just as we know you would care for us."

Then both of the twins simultaneously let out a wistful sigh, as if happily picturing the future they could have with you. George lifts one of your hands to his face and closes his eyes as he feels your fingertips against his cheek.

At a loss for words, you look at Fred. He responds by grinning crookedly before taking your other hand, slowly bowing low to press his lips to the back of it, all the while attaining burning eye contact. You hadn't noticed the Room's lights dimming until George's eyes open, and you can't look away from the two gleaming, green pairs of eyes in the near darkness. You should be used to it by now, but you are once again amazed by the twins synchronization when you feel their sly smiles brush against the skin on your hands at the same time.

The brothers move up, their mouths beginning to explore your wrists, and you are torn apart when you realize what they're doing. They're buttering you up, hoping that this lovely display of affection will win you over. You so gravely want to let them do it, but you also know that you shouldn't act rashly and should really ponder on your decision...

"Oh... oh, stop it," you whine.

"Stop what?" asks Fred innocently. He proceeds to roll your sleeve up and begin a trail of kisses up your arm.

You laugh wearily, gently tugging your arm away from him. "You know... trying to make my choice for me."

The twins sigh again, though this time out of disappointment.

"Alrighty then. Goodnight, y/n," George says a little too acceptingly and moves in for a hug, but you quickly back away from him.

"No, no! No hugs, thanks," you chuckle. "If I know you two, I know you don't give up so easily."

"Ah, but that's exactly why you love us!" Fred sweeps around and behind you too fast for you to react, bending low to your ear and whispering, "And that is exactly why we love you."

You're not quite sure what he means, but the way he speaks is enough to send the general message. Fred kisses your cheek before casually strolling away toward the nougat concoction.

"Yeah," agrees George thoughtfully. "That is how it is, isn't it?"

You roll your eyes as George kisses your other cheek. He then follows in Fred's footsteps, assisting in packing away the rest of the magical candy.

"I don't catch your meaning, though I don't suppose I'm meant to," you huff in slight annoyance.

"I'll tell you when you're older," Fred says in a motherly, mocking tone, and George laughs.

"Pfft. Goodnight," you chuckle, shaking your head and heading for the door.

"Goodnight, y/n. Sleep well," the twins say together, pausing to watch you leave.

You lie wide awake in bed, screaming internally. (You would actually scream if it weren't for the other people sleeping in your dorm.) You still can't believe what happened only an hour ago. First, you finished the nosebleed nougat. That was a special event by itself, but then the twins went on to practically beg you to elope with them!

You'd thought that you'd be too emotionally exhausted to have trouble falling asleep, but your mind spins with doubt and incredulity. It demands that you reject the twins' proposal. If you didn't, hardships that you never imagined yourself facing would arise from every angel. To say the least, it wouldn't sit well with your parents in any way, shape, or form. You wouldn't finish school and would, therefore, feel the wrath of the Ministry (more specifically the Department of Magical Education). Society all together would likely shame you for your decision.

The thought of running away with Fred and George fills your mind with anxiety. But, despite all reasoning, it also fills your heart with rapture. If you went with them, you would be happy. Life would become difficult if you said yes to Fred and George, but life will be difficult no matter your choice. If you didn't choose the Weasley twins, you would suffer having lost the loves of your life, and you aren't sure if you could do that...

TAG LIST: @tomhockstetter7-111 @jasm-1ne @costheticbabe @luthien-elvenia-asher @megablonde22 @thecuteavocado @weasleylady92 @websfromallthespiders @rubyintheforest @weasleylover4eva @georgeweasleyslostearhq @im-coolrat @them-cute-boys @xmadigurlx @keirasinbin @huayan @deathtonumber7 @elmolovesw33d @coffeebeans11 @dumb4person

[loveforaugust]

meet cute / b. bradshaw

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

Warnings: angst (??)

summary: Bradley has always been hesitant about relationships, until he was willing to throw away his fear for you.

a/n: it’s short. I have some ideas for a part 2 with their date or relationship, just comment if you’d like one! also trying to clear out my drafts so I can start new imagines 🥴

Bradley Bradshaw always imagined spending his life alone. With his dad’s untimely death and his mother’s devotion to loving him even after he was gone, Bradley never wanted to put anyone through that.

He can still remember the way his mom sobbed at night, and the Goose sized hole left in their family. He remembered going to school and hearing kids talk about their families and always wondering where his dad had gone.

By the time he was old enough to understand, the sobs had quieted to simple tears and he had his Uncle Mav. Maverick was Bradley’s stand in father. He would show up to school to pick him up when Carole couldn’t, he taught him how to play baseball and would show up to every single one of his games.

Bradley could only remember his father through stories. Maverick and Carole were pretty good at making sure Bradley was left with some ideas of how his father was like. Every night at dinner they would tell a Goose story and Bradley had his fair share of favorites

Carole died when Bradley was 17. Maverick was the only one he had at his graduation. He barely made it through his classes, he was orphaned a month before he turned 18.

But Bradley didn’t completely feel isolated until he found out Maverick pulled his papers. He can’t remember much about the night he found out, his anger had caused him to black out, but he remembered waking up in front of his father’s grace at 4:30 in the morning.

But Bradley was used to being alone, that’s what he’d gotten used to.

He didn’t want a family and he didn’t want a partner who he would leave behind when he inevitably died like his father had. A freak accident or a heroic act, Bradley didn’t want his partner feeling the way his mother had.

Every thought went out the window when he first met you.

You had this twinkle in your eyes and this pep in your step that made Bradley want to settle down in costal city with a dog, just by looking at you. He didn’t know how a person could ever be this conflicted with their feelings but he knew that he would give you anything you asked for.

He lost you in the crowd after becoming distracted. Disappointment sweeper through his body as he turned back a round on his barstool.

“Hey mustache boy, you gonna keep staring or are you gonna come talk to me?” He heard the voice call out to him. He turned around, you were perched on a barstool a couple of seats from him.

“Sorry about that sweetheart, I’ve been told I have a staring problem.” He smirked as he slide down tot he seat next to you. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Well Y/n, I’m Bradley Bradshaw, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He stuck his hand out and you shook it with a laugh. He made it his goal right then to do everything he could to make you laugh. “You’re unbelievably gorgeous.”

“And you are unbelievably cheesy!” You laughed. “Besides, I’m not looking for a hook up, Bradley.”

“And why’s that, Y/n?”

“I just turned 32, it’s time I settle down with a nice guy who can give me some kids of my own. Not some man with a mustache in a bar.”

“I’ll let you know that the mustache attracts dad appeal.” You smiled, taking a sip of your drink. “When can I take you out? On a real date, not a hook up.”

“You looking for a family, Bradley?”

And for the first time in his life. “I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“Bradley, are you looking to settle down or not?” You were very attracted to the man but he was annoying you.

“I never thought I would, growing up. But it’s gonna sound weird to say that I can see myself having a life with you.” He spoke sheepishly.

“It does sound a little weird, but I’ll let it slide until after our date.”

any requests? dm me!

[arcielee]

ARCIE 💜 i think i over did it ._. for the writing ask 😘

1, 2, 4, 9, 10, 12, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 32, 35, 37, 38, 43, 44, 53, 66, 69, 72, 73, 75, 78, 81, 86, 88, 94, 99 👀

All right, Mrs Hardy. Let's do this. 😈

1. do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road?

When I first started writing, it was because I had one scene on reply in my brain and I had to get it out of my head (an example of that would be The Sapphire Prince). \

I much prefer my method now, which is word vomit every thought in my head into a doc, which can be events, notes, random conversations the characters we have to whole ass paragraphs.

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

Again, The Sapphire Prince. That story was such a cluster fuck and nobody did anything I wanted them too. 😭 I couldn't even have a sweet moment for my boy Ser Erryk in that damn story!

4. what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

First, shout out to my beloved @some-distant-star for telling me yesterday wtf this is. 💜

Probably my Dane!Osferth story that thrums around in my mind. I think it continues to rattle around because I need to figure out how to keep what makes Osferth Osferth, but also have Dane tendencies? I actually started my word vomit doc for it, so we'll see what happens.

9. in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not?

This is tricky. I have seen situations where the movie did better than the book, but then I am also watching House of the Dragon and have become one of those mouth breathers who say, "But in Fire & Blood...!"

It can be an anime. 🥰

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

Titles are the hardest thing about writing for me. Like, let me shell out 30k+ words for a story and then panic over wtf to even call it. (Dancing in the Dark remained title-less until I finally started going through random Spotify playlists, like a raccoon rummaging through garbage, if you will.)

12. do you ever have trouble focusing on writing? how do you get around that?

If a story keeps escaping me, I will take my dog on long walks and see if it can come to me. By this, I mean I am the crazy lady in a sun hat who is talking to herself while her dog looks confused.

[Image: my dog, who sometimes edits for treats]

If that does not stir my muses, I do not force it and just go wherever they lead me. I have written an entire ass story in the middle of another story so I could clear my head of it and finish on the original.

13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

Probably my Call It Dreaming series? It was my first ever Reader Insert that my beloved @f4ll-for-you helped me with, and it profoundly changed my writing style.

14. what’s your worst writing habit?

Probably my overuse of semi-colons.

16. where is your favorite place to write?

Anywhere, everywhere. I have my MacBook that I bring with me, I have a notebook brimming with my ideas, and my phone notepad looking a hot mess.

17. what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

I really love describing Aemond, but this also comes to mind:

They were all moths drawn to his flame, fluttering with their desperation to touch. You pushed through them, determined to be burned. 

All the wild hearted ambition

18. what is your most and least favorite part of writing?

My favorite? The beginning. I love day dreaming, brainstorming, fleshing out a new idea. I love how it repeats in my brain and lulls me to sleep at night.

My least favorite? Saying goodbye. Once it is written, it is gone from my mind.

19. what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?

Patricia Highsmith's prose style had a huge impact for me. Also Margaret Mitchell crafted my writing in the sense that I could see everything in her story unfold in front of my eyes and I wanted to pay that forward.

20. what is your favorite trope to write?

Probably mutual pining with a sprinkle of slow burn. 🥰

21. pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

A.C. Crispin and it would be a scifi adventure with a ragtag group surviving life after Earth.

32. do characters influence your writing style?

Yes. For myself, I do not enjoy writing for a character that I don't fully understand. My goal, always, is to make it sound like it was pulled from the original content.

35. tell us about a character who’s very different than you who you love a whole lot

This man.

I haven't forgotten. I need you to watch this.

37. when creating characters, what comes first: appearance, backstory, motivation, personality, something else?

It is reactions to the plot shenanigans. This helps me visualize and create a backstory for them.

38. how many stories do you work on at one time?

I have 10 WIPs currently, and 2 which I am actively working on.

43. how did writing change you?

For myself, writing allows that processing time that I need to understand something that happened. It is healing for me. (ex. To Build a Home)

44. any writing advice you want to share?

It is very easy to get swept away with notes and kudos, but if you are not enjoying the process, then what is the point?

Also, the best advice I ever received came from my beloved @sylasthegrim who told me to focus on what they were feeling as opposed to the action that was being done. (Ilysm 💜)

53. when writing, do you have an outline? and do you stick to it?

I do now! And it actually helps me stay on track with the fucking plot, which I definitely need.

66. when have you felt the most confident in your writing?

That is something I still struggle with. Like, I am please with how I have evolved as a write, but then I read someone else's masterpiece and figure it would be best if I unplug my PC and walk myself into the nearest body of water. 😆

69. how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

Their emotions are my emotions, and it can make or break my day.

72. what do you do if a scene gets too serious?

I follow the muses. If it is needed, it is written.

73. how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

I can see it playing in my head and I narrate it, out loud, to myself. Then I frantically type or write it down before it leaves me.

75. do you know how your story ends before you start writing?

Most of the time, yes. But if I am trying to write out what I outlined and it is not coming together, I will drop the WIP for a while and let it simmer a bit longer.

78. how do you choose where to end a chapter?

This depends: so, sometimes I write out an entire story, look over the work count, and take that into consideration when I am chopping it up. Other times I outline certain events that need to take place before the chapter can end.

81. if you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?

"Girl, please, for the love of fuck, end that goddamn sentence."

86. which season best matches the mood of your wip(s)?

The kind of winter you see at the wall.

88. if you could have another author write your wip for you (bc we all dream of this occasionally), who would it be?

Oh my goodness, gather round my talented Tumblr kindred spirits, I would pass these out like Halloween candy. 😆

94. do you prefer dialogue or description?

99. was being a writer a dream of yours when you were little? or did it spring up when your older? or is it just a hobby?

I have been writing since I hit double digits. I still have these ridiculous notebooks with glitter covers that are filled, front to back, with my original attempts at writing.

My husband understands to burn them when I am dead. 🥰

ask game for fanfic writers

[protege-not-protagonist]

Criminal Minds: The Protégé Chapter 10

Blurb: While the team works on the case in the Appalachian Mountains establishing theories and defining a profile, Spencer throws himself into working the victimology of this new Unsub killer. But it is not enough to distract him from the emptiness he feels in his life, especially after his mother's recent episode. rather than stay at home and face a night of quiet reflection, Spencer reluctantly decides to attend trivia night... who knew it would be the first and last time he would be hesitant to go.

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Audience: 16+ mature audience for depictions of violence and sexual references

Author's Note: if you see a trigger warning that concerns you, you can scroll to end and I'll have a brief description what happens. And how to read around it. TW: violence, crime scene depiction, This case mentions sexual assault, kidnapping, decapitation, Necrophilia, slight body horror (as previous chapter)

Spencer's Appartment, Arlington, VA, 7:50PM

Spencer rubbed the bridge of his nose and inhaled. Done. He had gone through them. All 562 profiles of the unsubs. He just focused on their status in the past 5 years, since that was when Grace had noticed the upward trend. Of those, 32 had died in that period. A few had died of old age, been executed, or died in prison fights. But disturbingly, 19 of those deaths had suicide by overdose or heart complications listed as cause of death in the last.

And even more concerning was that there was a starkly clear victimology. All were unsubs that had been killing and caught when they were adolescents or very early twenties. All had antisocial personality disorder, or Dissociative Identity Disorder, or both. All were having medical treatment administered to them in either psychiatric facilities or prisons. And, they were all people who shouldn't have died in care, all under 30 and not profiled as self destructive.

Spencer wished it was hard to believe that someone could've gotten away with it for that long. But he knew they weren’t exactly people that would be missed. People would think that no one would care or even that they deserved it, and that is why this killer had been so successful. It was why 19 had died before one person had thought twice about a 20th. One random FBI agent who answered a phone call meant for him.

Now they had a base number of victims, they needed to further narrow down the remaining living unsubs with the victim profile. It would help them figure out who was likely to be next. They also had to correlate employee records with the facilities these unsubs, well actually, victims, had died in. If there was a common person, they had to be the killer.

He shuffled the papers back into the neat stacks on his coffee table. Squinting around at the rest of his room, reached for a floor lamp's switch; it was starting to get hard to see. He stood up from his armchair and felt his legs protest. The light level in the room told him it was a later than he thought it was. How long had he been working on this? He looked out his window at the park outside. It only had a few joggers and dog walkers trailing around the pathways.

Spencer enjoyed the new view and the convenience of the location. He had been in his new apartment for 1 year, 8 months, and four days. But it still wasn’t the same. He missed his old home.

He had left it out of necessity, is what he told himself. It was practical. Now he was home a lot more, he needed the spare room as an office space. He also originally needed the two-bedroom apartment if his mother wanted to stay with him on day releases. Not that she could now.

But no matter how he reasoned it away, it didn’t change the fact that the real reason he moved was because he didn't like the fact that Cat Adams knew where he lived. It was the fact that she and had used his apartment and neighbours in her plans twice now. Max had pointed that out to him. And once she had; he hadn't felt safe there anymore.

Spencer never used to worry for his safety, if anything, his job proved that there was no point in worrying; if someone was determined enough, nothing could stop them. But with her it was different. For the first time, he could not shut the worry out. His home had felt... tainted.

It was a shame. He had spent longer in that apartment than anywhere else in his life. But perhaps the change was good. He was leaving that life behind; a new environment would help him separate himself from his past.

Much to his disappointment though, the walls here were still white. He hadn't got permission to paint them yet. Spencer appreciated that in design theory, the lighter coloured walls help reflect light and make the place feel spacious and airy. But other than a vitamin D boost, for him, there were no more benefits. He needed the comfort of a dark, cosy place to retreat to at the end of long days. Surveying space he nodded with contentment. He had done his best to dampen the impersonal-ness of the ‘clean chic’ aesthetic. His bookshelves lined the walls of the living space. Framed yellowed schematics and watercolour botanical prints cluttered the walls. His dark wooden furniture added the illusion of a comfortable age. Dark curtains and earthy tone rugs tied it all together. It was impressive how similar it was to the old the place.

But now there was the spare room. The room with a plainly dressed bed and his spotless work desk. The empty room.

He would have brought his own house if he had someone to share it with. But that hadn’t worked out and the more empty rooms he had in his life, the more lonely he supposed it would feel. Max was great, but when they finally had that third date, and then a fourth, and then a 15th, they both found that they were great, but just as friends.

Opposites did attract, but ultimately there was just too much difference between their worldviews. He had baggage. A lot of it. And it was not that she didn’t care. No, it was the opposite; she cared a lot, but she was too confrontational. She saw his baggage, and she wanted it gone; she wanted to free him from it. Max saw it as if all of that trauma really was just bags and suitcases that she could toss away from him like a commercial airline baggage handler, if she tried hard enough. But she didn’t understand that some things can’t be fixed. Some things can’t be undone. Some things, in the end, you just had to live with and learn to live around.

He also felt that they wanted different things out of life. Max wanted to live a life filled with excitement. She was eager to explore the world, but Spencer craved stability. He had had enough adventure. He wanted to settle down, take life slowly, and savour it. And so that was how it ended. They followed their respective paths. Max found herself in bustling New York, working at the MET. Meanwhile, Spencer settled into a cozy apartment, its walls filled with books and the gentle hum of a fish tank, finding solace in teaching. Or, he was trying to.

Spencer padded across the room and flicked the light switch on, and stared back at the pile of papers on the coffee table. He couldn’t do much more work without Agent Matthews or Garcia now. He needed something to do. Staying here looking at the spare room was only reminding him that there were people missing from his life. He needed to get out. Staying in and reading was nice. But lonely. And he didn’t want to feel alone tonight. Not after the weekend, he just had.

He checked his watch; 7:52pm.

If he left now, he could still make it to the trivia night his colleagues had openly invited him to months ago. He didn't usually like bars, or competitions, or beer. But they had tried multiple times to convince him he would enjoy himself. The concerned smile that Grace had given him earlier that morning flicked to his mind. He recalled her subtle encouragement to try a new experiences; new people and new hobbies. Was trivia a hobby?

Surprisingly, he felt himself move towards his keys, as if his subconscious was urging him to go. If there were empty rooms in his life, he supposed they would stay empty unless he took the initiative to meet new people and tried new things. He grabbed his wallet and phone and walked to the door while he still had the courage. He turned the doorknob and stepped out into the hallway, pulling up the navigation app on his phone. Trivia. He was going to trivia night, a social event, and he was going to meet people. And if the past week was any indicator; meeting new people wasn’t too bad.

Central Police Station, Harrisburg, PA, 7:00 PM

Rossi walked down the halls to of the police station with Dective Garner following close behind the meeting room. Simmons was pinning up the map on the case board. Luke was scribing down points on the whiteboard as Tara told him what they had learned from their interviews. JJ was in the corner examining the sheets the victims were wrapped in from the boxes of evidence. Grace was missing. He looked down at his watch. She was late for the debriefing. He sighed, but knew she would be in soon; she would be late cause she had found something.

‘Well, what have we got, cause victimology is not really giving us anything other than young, female and in the forest? Not too picky as far as I can tell. We’re going to have focus more on the Unsub. What did the scene tell us?’ Rossi asked.

Simmons shook his head, ‘Well he is knowledgeable of local area, looking at these sites this active zone where the bodies are being dumped placed is 1.38 square kilometres, that’s not even a square mile but the comfort zone, is a lot bigger, here-‘ he drew a circle around the three points.’-As Detective Garner and Ranger Debraun noted this active zone was not accounting for the terrain. If we adjust to account for the mountain right in the middle of the whole thing, the active zone is more like 13 square miles. If he had to walk there using the trails from access points near roads while carrying a body… it’s just unlikely.

‘So there’s two possibilities, theory one, is that he lives somewhere in this comfort zone and uses a shallow boat to travel the waterways after killing them. Theory two, he lives in the forest, and has multiple secluded areas to hold and kill victims and then dumps them in sites closest to the area he killed and held them in.’

Tara stepped up to the map and added a point to the board. ‘Our interview found that Hope was abducted from the surrounding forest on this road. Now that we know for sure the stretch of trail that Hope was abducted from and the disposal site, we can narrow down that range that this hideout might be in.’

Rossi nodded. ‘Good, good, tomorrow morning we can get out there with some of your men, Garner, and search the abduction site.’

‘Absolutely,’ the detective nodded.

Rossi paused and furrowed his brow. ‘Detective Garner, does the phrase “your friend trips under the hill” mean anything to you?’

The detective frowned. ‘No, sorry, should it?’

‘When we interviewed Jenny, she said sometimes in the days after the abduction she heard a man call her name and sometimes she would hear that phrase.’ Tara explained.

‘The Unsub returned to taunt her?’ Luke questioned.

Rossi shook his head stoically. ‘No, we believe he was trying to lure her too.’

‘She didn’t tell us that,’ the detective frowned.

‘She thought she was imagining it,’ Tara explained. ‘She thought people would think she was crazy.

‘Are we sure that it was the unsub?’ JJ asked Tara. ‘I don’t know who would even speak like that. It sounds… theatrical.’

‘I’m convinced it wasn’t a hallucination that she heard. She would still be experiencing them if they weren’t real, conditions that cause those symptoms are long term and don’t go away without treatment.’ Dr Lewis explained.

‘I’ve got Garcia researching that phrase as we speak. Hopefully, we can find what it’s referencing.’ Rossi nodded and moved on. ‘What about the morgue JJ? Where’s Grace?’

JJ let out a little huff and shook her head, still unable to believe how the interaction had gone. ‘Oh boy, the morgue was something. Grace got in a verbal sparring match with the M.E. It was like watching a high school debate club, but there were no real arguments, just intellectual snark. I had to break it up, but Grace is still there. She’s hovering over the M.E. while they do a dissection.’

‘Grace, verbally sparring?’ Dr Lewis frowned.

JJ shrugged, ‘I don’t know. Something got into her. M.E. made a comment about how she does that talking thing… And she went straight for the metaphorical jugular. Anyway, I got a lot of information I wish I could erase from my brain.’ she paced across the room to the board and wrote, “Necrophiliac” on the board.

‘Oh, gross.’ Luke groaned.

‘So this guy, still waiting on DNA to confirm it’s the same one, seems to keep the victims for three to five days before killing them and then keeps them for one to three days after death and that’s when the sexual assault occurs. Then he washes and wraps the victims before disposing of them. As far as we can tell, only superficial wounds from scuffles are sustained while they are alive. But the newest victims, Grace believes, show a deviation. She seems to think they were killed before decapitation and then drained of their blood. And this is where things get weird.’

‘You mean it wasn’t already weird? Simmons asked.

JJ grimaced before continuing. ‘One of the new victims had a needle mark from where the Unsub externally filled their bladder-‘

‘-What?’ Rossi asked out loud. The room was filled with confused and disgusted faces.

‘Jesus.’ Detective Garner shook his head. ‘Who even does this?’

‘Well, I’m not sure about the whole bladder thing, but I know that there is some familiar behaviour,’ JJ also wrote: Remorse? ‘I’ve been looking at the evidence here in the meantime. The sheets, the way he wraps up the victims, it’s like a shroud, it’s not just spread over the body, it’s properly done. The way he wraps up the victims and places them somewhere scenic, at the creek. That’s an indication of remorse, it’s shows an amount of care, an amount of shame. It’s a burial ritual.’

‘Yeah, as much as care someone who chops of heads and desecrates bodies can have.’ Detective Garner scoffed.

There was a short tap on the door. Grace's smiling face met them as she opened the door. ‘Did I hear someone say burial ritual?’

Stern faces met her and Rossi raised an eyebrow. Her face dropped a little, assuming a more neutral expression. ‘Right, well sorry I’m late, but I have some great news, some perplexing news and some details for Garcia to look up for our victim IDs when the briefing’s over.’

‘Start with the great news.’ Rossi waved her in.

She nodded and skittered over to the map. ‘I know where the victims are most likely being held and killed.’ She held out her hand for JJ to pass her the marker. ‘So, I called around to see if we could get our lab results flagged as a priority, and well, mainly DNA, to confirm it’s the same guy. Toxicology is still slow, entomology also not finished and the sample we took from the bladder has only just been sent-’

He held up his hand gently stopping her. ‘Grace… What do we have?’ Rossi prompted.

‘Oh um, particulates from the fingernails. The samples were tested before, but only for the DNA of the attacker. I asked a friend of mine back on the second floor to look at the preliminary mass spec, but for grit. He found pure Anthracite Coal in all victims’ samples.’ She grinned widely, clearly proud of herself as she used the marker to draw some dotted lines on the map.

Rossi watched her with interest. He had talked to her about convoluted answers. To Grace’s credit, she had gotten better in the past few months. He knew if she was drawing; she was taking time to gather an explanation with a visual aid. But he supposed he knew of her diagnosis, so he understood. The rest of the team had not quite figured it out yet.

‘So, they were killed in a forge or factory or what… what is Anthracite Coal mean? Are there different types of coal?’ JJ asked.

Grace turned to answer, but surprisingly, Detective Garner cleared his throat.

‘Ya girl here is saying the victims were killed in a Pennsylvanian coal mine. Anthracite is the highest grade coal there is, highest carbon content, rare as well. In America, it is only found in this state.’ The team looked at him with puzzled looks. ‘What? I thought everyone knew that? Anyway There is a problem though, it doesn’t fit the geoprofile. All the mines are further North East of here, quite a ways actually.’

‘Yes exactly, but those are currently operating mines,’ Grace enthused. ‘I suspect this one is old and abandoned. I’m not an expert geologist, but as an archaeologist, I know a thing or two about stratigraphy. The Appalachian mountains, although separated by rivers and valleys nowadays, were once a continuous range before the ice age. Because of this we can look at known deposit on the other side of the river in Dauphin county and assume the layer that was compressed into coal was one deposit before the river separated it-‘ she drew a dotted line over the river and along the mountain and straight through the unsubs active zone. ‘-Theoretically, the coal that ended up in our victims’ fingernails should be at the same elevation as the Dauphin county mine. Which places the abandoned mine on this ridge and within the unsubs’ active zone.’

Detective Garner paused briefly before stating, ‘Considering Jenny's testimony, we can place the abduction right on the outskirts of the active zone. But we found her on the other side of the mountain, which disproves the theory of his lair being in that zone. You cannot abduct someone without a vehicle and drag them either fighting or unconscious up a mountain for two miles. Hold them captive in a mine for five days. Then carry their body three miles down the other side of the mountain. It’s not physically possible. The bodies would suffer more damage from being dragged and manhandled.’

Grace nodded. ‘You are right, detective, I would normally agree. The average distance someone can carry a body is 300 meters or a hundred yards. And if we think he is probably using the river to transport the bodies away from his lair, the place he kills them must be closer than 300 meters from where he keeps a boat. As you said, it looks impossible since the river is on the other side of the mountain. But it is actually possible if the unsub isn’t going over the mountain at all.’

‘There has to be a tunnel under the mountain.’ Rossi realised. It was the only thing that made sense.

‘Exactly, modern mines in the area are open cut, but prior to the 60’s mines were underground. And if this mine is old enough to be forgotten about. It’s got to be Civil War era or before. I also read that this area has a lot of history with the Underground Railroad, which I know was not actually an underground railroad, but it involved a lot of secret passages through the mountains, and also the logging industry sometime would help smuggle people out on rafts through the river systems. Sometimes loggers would create tunnels that would lead to riverside log stations so that logs didn’t have to be dragged over the hill. Point is, this unsub lives in those mountains, and probably has his whole life, his family probably also has deep roots here. Both mining and logging are the old back bone industries here.’

‘How long did you spend reading?’ Dr Lewis asked.

‘Just the plane ride here…’ She shrugged.

Rossi raised an eyebrow. He noticed her busy with something on the plane and had wondered what it could be. She had seemed so focused on it. Obviously, whatever it was, had been helpful.

Simmons nodded and thought for a moment. ‘Is there a possibility that there’s a map of these tunnel systems or survey of the mineshafts?’

Garner shook his head. ‘Not that I know of. Anything old like that, there’s a chance it doesn’t exist anymore. Records like that just aren’t kept. The police records here only go back as far as the 50s. We’ve had a few disaster level floods in the Susquehanna area way back. If something like that existed, I’m not sure if it would have survived.’

‘Survivorship Bias.’ Grace murmured in thought.

‘Do you mean natural selection?’ Rossi asked, prompting her to speak up.

‘Uh no, Survivorship Bias is the likelihood of material culture surviving based on preference. Basically, the more important, impressive, and popular something is, the more likely it is to be preserved over mundane things. If a map did exist and has survived, it will be because someone thought it was worth preserving. If we want to find a map we need to think of who might’ve thought that the map was important enough to preserve?’

There was a moment of silence as they thought collectively.

Simmons lit up. ‘It could be in Union Army military intelligence documents. Do you have a civil war historical society here in Harrisberg, detective?’

‘Yeah, one of the sarges is in it. I’ll go get him to phone them make inquiries.’ Garner nodded and left the room.

‘That could take a while. Do we have anything more to add to the profile than local-necrophile-head-hunter-mountain-man at the moment?’ Rossi asked.

‘I’m sorry to ask, but what’s with the bladder? We see wacky cranked up to 11 every day here, but this is just next level.’ Dr Lewis asked.

‘It a first for me,’ JJ folded her arms. Simmons and Luke nodded in agreement. The team all looked at him.

‘Hey, I may be old, but this is new for me too.’ Rossi held his hand up. ‘How did the dissection go, Grace?’

‘I’m not sure yet, still waiting for tox screens. But this is the perplexing news I had. The dissection confirmed that victim Four’s bladder had been filled externally and drained, naturally. Whatever it was filled with caused hemorrhaging, but there were no caustic burns or lacerations. So at least it wasn’t acid, which I have seen before, but not in the bladder, it was-’ the room collectively winced and Grace stopped her sentence. ‘-awful. But whatever it was caused the victim to bleed a lot. They, uh-would have urinated blood. The level of medical sophistication required for it doesn’t really agree with the ‘feral’ mountain man profile, but DNA confirms it’s the same guy. And it’s too bizarre to be unrelated.’

Rossi frowned, unsure what to make of that information. ‘Well, bizarre and unknown, we will handle with care once we get those tox screens. For now, we focused on we know: The way he’s wrapped the bodies and isolates the victims, holds them for days, speaks to some kind of fantasy. What kind of fantasy?’

‘This guy almost seems like a Power Rapist to me, but it’s warped to where instead of losing confidence when a victim rejects him, he takes the resistance out of the equation by killing them. Then afterward he is ashamed or has some expression of grief in the way he disposes of them.’ Luke observed.

Rossi nodded in agreement. ‘That’s good, I think you’re right, but then there’s the decapitation, which is not typically a remorseful thing to do to a body.’

Tara looked up at him with a pensive expression. ‘Usually I would agree, but I think what we are seeing here is an expression of frustration that he cannot socialise with these women. During the pandemic, the cases of overkill, particularly beheadings rose. We’ve found theres is a clear link between isolation and this kind of dismemberment.’ Dr Lewis put forward. ‘Everything we’ve seen so far suggest he is a very socially inept individual. Perhaps it’s not so much the heads, but the faces he can’t look at while he commits the sexual acts after. I personally believe we are dealing with a young individual severely isolated, very agitated, and experimenting with his desires on victims his own age.’

‘No social skills, like being a feral mountain man.’ JJ pointed out.

‘Do feral people have clean linen though?’ Simmons asked. Pointing to the evidence box JJ had been going through.

‘You’re just going to gloss over the fact that you’re actually entertaining the idea that they exist?’ Luke raised an eyebrow.

‘Well, although a lot of folks from Appalachia think it’s pretty offensive and stereotypical to suggest there are wild people living in the mountains, the legends persist, which suggests there is some element of truth. Of course, I'm not talking about insane myths like cannibal cults and skinwalkers, but there could be some eccentric hermits out there. This team has come across, like, two, no wait, three unsubs that some might call feral people. So I thought it was a fact that feral people exist,’ Grace added. Then frowned, walking over to the evidence table. ‘But Simmons is right. Feral people don’t have white clean linen, usually.’

‘Well, not all the sheets are white, this was victim one’, unlike that others its old and discoloured there’s also a label on it this. It looks like a nordic language.’ JJ pointed to the evidence she had unboxed earlier that evening.

‘IKEA? So like stock standard and untraceable.’ Luke guessed.

Grace peered at the label. ‘No, these aren’t from IKEA, if they were, they’d actually be more traceable. IKEA is not as generic as you’d think. There are only 51 IKEA stores in the country, only three in the state. Fun fact, the franchise is headquartered in right here in Pennsylvania. This is because of the high percentage of German heritage in the area, which is important because Germany highest consumer of their goods. Actually, the first IKEA in the US was opened in ‘85 in Plymouth, about two hours away from here.’ Grace said distractedly. The room went quiet, and Rossi couldn’t help but smile as Grace continued examining the sheets, oblivious to the fact that all eyes were on her. ‘The font and condition of them say early 90’s at least. I don’t recognise this brand. But JJ's right the text is definitely Nordic, maybe Danish?’

'How?' Simmons asked in bewilderment.

‘How what?’ Grace raised her head and realised the team was focused on her. She looked around nervously and glanced at Rossi, her face asking if she had zoned out.

‘That was the most numerical facts you’ve given about a topic off the top of your head, and about IKEA of all things? Why?’ JJ asked curiously.

Grace simply shrugged. ‘I just really like IKEA.’

JJ chuckled and then asked, ‘Ok, Grace, what’s the address of the police station here?’

‘Why would I need to remember that? It was in the case brief.’ Grace said with a frown.

With a little snort, JJ shook her head. ‘Case and point Grace.’

The Laureate bar, West End, Washington DC, 8:04PM

‘Dr Reid! You made it!’ the table of familiar faces called out to him, beckoning him over. He made his way through the tables in the function room at the back of the bar. He glanced at the leader board and saw their team name’s "You’re Going George-down" was fifth. But the first team "The No Bodies" was a head by a significant lead. The previous winners of other weeks were listed on a white board behind an older woman who paced with a hand-held microphone. The No Bodies didn’t win every week previously, but they certainly had a few.

‘Sit here.’ Dr Brandwrith, The Creative Writing Professor, pulled out a chair next to him. ‘We’ve finished round one, which was ornithology. We’re about to start round two, the topic is 15th century literature, and we’re being slaughtered. The Le Morte d'Arthur, is about all I’m familiar with.’

‘God look at them, they know they’re winning, look you can see the smugness in their eyes.’ Dr Martin, the head of the modern history department, cried, eyeing the table of five in the corner. A little white board place marker showed they were The No Bodies. They didn’t look to be gloating or intimidating. ‘It had to be one of their topics. I can not lose to an Egyptologist again!’ Dr Martin lamented and took a long swig of his drink.

Spencer scrutinised their opponents. The No Bodies was comprised three men and two women. Two of the men appeared to be in a deep discussion, dressed in simple button ups, one with a tie. The other man was significantly younger, probably early twenties in a collared tee and khakis, hand intertwined with a young woman at the table, but he completely focused on the baseball game playing on the screen behind them. The young woman was chatting animatedly with the other woman, who sat with her back to Spencer. All he could see from here was that her hair was red, and she had a green flannel jacket slung over the back of her chair.

He surveyed the other tables. Despite the tie wearing man, The No Bodies were the most casually dressed people in the room. Surprisingly, he recognised a lot of faces. Many were academics from various institutions. He even spotted a prominent judge at a table with people dressed in smart suits.

‘Well, luckily I happen to be pretty knowledgeable on the topic, I grew up reading it,’ Spencer told his colleagues trying to keep the wistfulness off his face as memories of his mother reading to him surfaced. ‘But 15th century literature is not a topic I would have thought would come up in bar trivia.’

‘That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you. This isn’t just any trivia, Dr Reid. This is Triv-atholon. The bar owner was an Ac-decathlon champion in highschool, he missed the fact that there were no competitions or social events like mathleetes and acdec for adults. So he made these trivia nights to be hard for people who wanted to be challenged.’

‘I never did decathlon in school, or trivia. How does it work?’

Dr Nguyen, the political sciences professor, leaned across the table.

‘Well, we are mid season now. There’s 20 games per season, one game a week. A team has to be signed on from the start of the season to enter the tournament, you can have up to six members per game, but you need at least four to compete in a game other wise you forfeit that week, team members also don’t have to be consistent, they can be anyone as long as they don’t play on another team.

'At the start of the season, each team submits their team name and four topics of expertise. Then each week there’s a game with three rounds, each round is 10 questions from the one of the submitted topics. One point for every right answer. And at the end of the game, the top three teams get leader board points and at the end of the season, the team with the most points wins the tournament.’

‘What do you win?’

‘Well, firstly, bragging rights. Secondly, they get personalised jackets, their team name on the trophy and $200 gift voucher. But most importantly, they get free drinks at the close of season party.’

A bell dinged repeatedly, and a hush descended up on everyone in the room.

‘Okay folks, question one, round two, here we go, the chivalric romance Tirant lo Blanch was finished and published in 1490 by Marti Joan de Galba, but who originally authored the text?’

‘Ugh that’s the Tyrant in White, I know it actually was a knight. But the name escapes me.’ Dr Brandwrith said.

‘Joanot Martorell.’ Spencer whispered.

‘How do you spell that? Write that down don’t let them see it.’ Dr Nguyen shoved a pen and paper towards him.

_________________

‘And the score after the second round, still in the lead with 17 points, are The No Bodies. In second place, real dark horses now, You’re Going George-Down with 15 points and in third we have the Matter Babes with 14 Points-‘

‘We got a secret weapon now. You’re going down this time Smithies!’ Dr Martin, a few drinks in, jeered at The No Bodies.

‘Did you not hear the score?’ one of the older men smiled. Spencer noticed he had an eye of Horace’s tie pin. He must have been the Egyptologists.

‘Well, it’s not really a secret once you announce it.’ The red-haired woman turned around in her chair.

Spencer blinked. She looked to be around his age, with freckled pale skin, wire-rim glasses perched on her round face framing her smiling eyes. His brain catalogued a lot of things when he saw her, but the immediate thing he noticed was that she was pretty, very pretty. He would go as far to say she was beautiful, but Spencer reserved that term for after he had observed their nature. She slid the glasses off, laying them on the table, and scanned him from head to toe with an inquisitive look on her face.

‘You didn't bring your pet encyclopedia this week? If she's coming, you might actually stand a chance,’ Dr Nguyen called back.

‘My grad student couldn't come, but I wouldn't count your chickens yet, Nguyen. Seven points down and we still have a few tricks up our sleeves.’ She said. Spencer was left stunned by the confident and playful smirk she shot him before turning back to her table.

‘Okay folks let's start round three, the topic is; The History of Material Culture Generated by Popular American Spectator Sports.’ The hostess announced.

There was a collective murmur.

The younger woman at The No Bodies table nudged her partner, who was still engrossed in the game on the screen behind him.

‘It’s your sport round, babe.’ She smiled at him.

‘No, mine was about the history of sport merch.’ He sighed.

‘That’s what people like us call Material Culture babe,’ she whispered.

‘OH YES FINALLY!’ the young man’s fist pumped. He quickly retracted his fist with a murmured apology once he realised all eyes were on him.

‘For half a point each, in what year was the first baseball card ever produced and by whom?’ The hostess read the first question.

‘Oh my God, we’re screwed!’ Dr Martin slumped on the table.

‘We can make an educated guess.’ Spencer consoled. He thought hard about everything he had gathered from conversations with Derek and Rossi. ‘Well, the product was probably tobacco and baseball reached international popularity in the late 1800s, so let’s say 1870, and Camel cigarettes.’

_____________

It was incorrect; it was actually a sporting goods store, but the year was close, 1868. And that the closest his team got to answering any of the questions from the round. The No Bodies won the night, much to the dismay of his colleagues. After hearing the final scores, his team members shuffled towards the bar.

As he went to follow them, he tried to walk in between two tables at the same time as the Red-haired woman from the opposing team. Both accidentally blocking the path, they made awkward eye contact and apologised. They both stepped to the left and then to the right and laughed nervously at each other. Eventually, he stepped back and let her through in front of him.

‘Good game?’ He cleared his throat. ‘Not really sure if we say that in trivia.’

‘We can if you want.’ She smiled. ‘It was a good game.’ She held out her hand to shake.

‘I uh, I-’ he scrambled for words that were running from him the longer he looked at her.

‘Oh no, that's ok.’ She retracted her hand and offered him a smile. ‘I get it. I got a few friends who don’t like handshakes either.’

He didn’t know if it was audible but a sigh of relief left him. She understood? He followed her up to the bar and was getting ready to search for his teammates when she turned back to him.

‘So you’re Dr Reid, Right? I can see why they wanted you to come.’

‘I can see as well.’ He nodded. ‘And I can see why Dr Martin was particularly worried. The No Bodies are quite a formidable team.’

‘Well, you should remind Dr Martin’s that’s it just a game,’ she laughed. It was a wonderful, contagious laugh. And all Spencer wanted to do was hear it again. ‘We’ve just had a good start to the season and a few new minds. That’s all. The No Bodies are pretty harmless.’

Spencer saw an opportunity and opened his mouth before he had time to regret it. ‘Unless your name is Polyphemus.’

There was a tick of silence before she erupted in that beautiful room brightening laugh.

‘I love a good Greek Mythology reference. So does Jess-‘ she pointed at the other woman from her team who was currently passionately kissing her boyfriend. ‘-Oh they are really celebrating huh, sorry you had to see that. But want to know something funny? Jess is a Classic Historian, her boyfriend’s name is Troy.’ She grinned at him.

He chuckled now. ‘Nominative determinism, that is funny. So your team consist of an Egyptologist, a Classicist, a Sport enthusiast, yourself and… I heard you’re a member down? Your grad student? Should I be worried about them?’

‘Oh yeah!’ she nodded. ‘Luckily for the other teams here, she’s my part time grad student. She has a job that means she has to travel a lot. She’s really good at general knowledge and Vikings. Can I buy you a drink?’ She asked.

‘Oh uh, no,’ Spencer replied. ‘I don’t usually-‘

‘What about a soda? That's what I'm getting. I have to drive home,’ She suggested.

‘You don't have to buy me one,’ he hesitated. ‘Not that I have anything against you buy-‘

‘-I want to buy you a drink,’ she interrupted, ‘So we have an excuse to converse longer. Sorry if that’s forward…’ her sentence petered out.

'Oh?' She wanted to talk? To him? After a moment, Spencer finally agreed. ‘You know what, okay, I'll have a soda.’

She glanced back up at him with a smile and flagged down the bartender.

‘So, grad students, you must be a doctor too,’ he said, leaning forward on the bar with intrigue. ‘What kind of doctor?’ he asked.

‘I'm a doctor twice over. Archaeology and Anthropology, I've also studied anatomy, but I’m a forensic anthropologist,’ she replied. ‘And I haven’t lost you, which is a good sign, not going to have to explain that I am I?’

Spencer’s brow furrowed in genuine interest. ‘No, no, fascinating,’ he encouraged her.

‘So, what kind of doctor are you?’ she inquired.

Spencer lit up with excitements as he replied, 'Like you, I’m a doctor in a few fields. Chemistry, mathematics, engineering.’ Then he shrugged, before saying the thing that usually killed the conversation. ‘But actually, I’m a criminologist and used to be a criminal profiler,’ he explained.

Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Woah, I’ve got whiplash. Sorry, criminal profiler?’ she exclaimed, but he didn’t read any distaste. She was giving him her full attention. Fascinated, he realised. She was fascinated.

He smiled, ‘Well, I used to be. Now I teach at Georgetown and consult occasionally for, uh, law enforcement,’ he revealed.

‘That would be the FBI, right?’ She guessed excitedly.

He nodded, ‘How did you-’ he began.

‘Oh, I consult with them sometimes too. I work with a few people from there. But that’s work talk. I’m intrigued, because in my mind, mathematics, chemistry, and engineering don’t connect with crime,’ she pondered. ‘How did you end up there, Doctor Reid?’

Spencer leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. ‘I guess I just found my way there. Growing up, I found it hard to comprehend emotions and establish connections with people. I initially studied social sciences and psychology in order to develop a deeper understanding of myself and relate to others. But then I met a profiler and attended his guest lecture. Then I desired to comprehend what drives people to deviation. I found I was good at it, and my knowledge in other areas allowed me to think out of the box. Profiling is more effective when supported by a diverse skill set. And crime is as broad and challenging field of study there is. I’ll never be done learning. So that is where I’ve chosen to stay.’ He explained.

The bar tender deposited their drinks on the in front of them he looked it over before drawing toward him.

‘I am intrigued by your field of study, though. What made you choose forensics? It’s a highly specialised field of anthropology that few would specialise in. And archaeology, again, not much connection to crime on the surface.’ He looked at her expectantly.

‘Well, connections to things are everything in anthropology. Forensics was a way I could help the living. It’s a present history, you know? Examining 4000-year-old remains, it’s fascinating, tells us so much about where we come from, how people were and how we still are, but… what good does it really do? Whereas finding someone’s loved one and returning them home for proper burial? It’s tangible, it’s present and meaningful,’ she explained, passion infused in her words.

Spencer nodded along with interest. ‘Yeah, I felt the same with my job,’ he enthused.

As they continued their conversation, completely engrossed in each other’s stories, the noise of the bar seemed to fade into the background. He spoke passionately about his thesis, while she shared her experiences from various digs she had gone on. She told him about her students she had had through the years and how each one always fascinated her in just how unique their approach to things was. Likewise, he opened up about the different members of the BAU he had worked with, each bringing something unique to the team.

Time flew by as they spoke for over an hour, and he brought them another soda. He even broached the topic of his mother, telling her she was a professor of 15th century literature and how she was suffering from Alzheimers. Sympathetically, she related her own experience with her grandfather going through the same illness when she was younger. She revealed that she was also struggling with loss. Her father had recently passed away from cancer. Spencer expressed his condolences, and they shared memories and reminisced about favourite moments with people they loved. That is how they found they both enjoyed western films.

It was a surprising discovery, and a topic that seemed trivial, but it only deepened their conversation. She mentioned how she used to watch them with her father, and how she had been indulging in them lately to relive those nostalgic moments. He eagerly offered recommendations. She promised to watch them and then got enthusiastically lost in talking about the sociological themes that westerns often carried. Spencer watched her with a contented smile on his face as she asked him what he thought of the shift in themes with modern westerns. To her surprise, he admitted he hadn’t realised there were modern films that fell into that genre, leading to an engaging discussion and recommendations from her.

Time seemed lost in the enjoyment of each other’s company. Eventually he saw his teammates wave goodbye to him and support a worse for wear Dr. Martin out the door. She turned back to him and smiled.

‘Are you going to be coming regularly?’ she askedq.

Spencer paused for a moment, his mind racing. ‘I don’t know, I’m not usually into these sorts of occasions. But I’m trying to try new things,’ he admitted.

‘Well, I’m very glad you did. Did you have fun?’ she inquired, a playful smile on her lips.

‘Yeah, a lot of fun. Though I think the answer for question five round three was subjective,’ he chuckled.

‘I thought so too, but I won’t contest it, since we got it correct. Troy knows his stuff,’ she replied. ‘But I have no idea how we’ll handle next week. That was one of our submitted topics. We’ve had a pretty good run so far, but there’s still half of the season left to play. And now, I hear there is a pretty formidable opponent on the Georgetown team.’ She grinned at him.

‘Maybe, but he seems to have a weakness with questions involving sports. Are you here often?’ he asked curiously. Spencer leaned back, his gaze lingering on her.

‘Most games. I don’t go out much otherwise,’ she confessed.

‘Well, with the highest chance of seeing you being coming to trivia regularly, I suppose I will be a regular then,’ he replied.

The air felt charged with anticipation as they exchanged glances. Spencer stiffened, surprised at himself. His mind raced as he mentally berated himself. “Why did I say that? That was the corniest, stupidest thing I had ever said,” he thought and his face flushed.

‘I’d like that.’ She said with a hint of shyness in her voice.

Then, her phone rang, breaking whatever spell had been upon them. She wrenched it from her pocket, glared at the screen accusingly, then sighed.

‘I’m sorry I have to take this. It’s life or death, well probably death, considering my occupation.’

Spencer nodded. He hoped his bar stool would sink into the floor and take him with it.

‘Hey Avery, what can I do for you?’ she smiled into the phone. Her expression faltered. ‘Oh? Yes, that is unusual. Are you sure? I see. No, no, that’s fine. I can come over. Where was the scene?’

She grabbed a napkin and pulled a pen out of of her bag and scribbled something down, probably the address. ‘Uh-ha, and in what state of skeletonization are the bodies? Yeah? Better swing by home and get my coveralls on my way over. Okay, yes, see you there.’

She got up and Spencer frowned a little. His chest ached just the slightest. He had enjoyed the past couple of hours. Guess maybe he had enjoyed it more than-

‘If you’re not freaked out by that-‘ She slid the napkin across the counter to him. ‘Call me sometime. I hope to see you here again, Dr Reid. It’ll be nice for our team to have to a challenge.’ She smiled at him and left.

He was too stunned to pick the napkin up right away. Her Number? He thought she had written the address of the crime-scene.

He reached out gingerly, grabbed the paper, and turned it over, but one half of it stuck to the bar.

‘No.’ He whispered to himself as he pulled the napkin out of the small puddle of condensation left by a glass and cradled it in his hand.

Spencer was gutted as he examined the napkin. Only half her number was still visible, and the word above it had bled into inky stains. The word above would have been her name he realised. It was also then it dawned on him that she had never shared it with him.

He turned in his seat to see if he could catch her, but she was gone.

He heaved a deflated sigh and stared back at the napkin. He could try an algorithm to guess her name and apply a few forensic techniques to revive the precious symbols he had lost. And he would. He would try his best to recover them. But there was only one way to ensure he saw her again; he had to come to trivia night next week. And he would be there no matter what; that was a certain, sure and immutable fact.

------------

Next Chapter

Taglist: @bridgeoverstrawberryfields

Sorry this took so long. Hopefully, you liked it. What did you think of Spencer's love interest? Who is she? (for once, the reader probably knows more than Spencer)

If you love this story or even just like it, leave a comment, like, reblog, ask a question with Character Mail, will be posting some prompt for this soon so keep your eyes peeled. Any interaction is much appreciated and it really motivates me. Love you guys.

if you want to be added to taglist please comment on this post.

TWs:

Sexual assault, Necrophilia : I will try not to be graphic at all in this story, this chapter just has it mentioned as part of what the unsub does

Slight body horror : I will try not to be graphic here, but in autopsy it is found that unsub fills Bladders externally with a injection. then found that it injures the victim to a point where they bleed. Again not going to describe that more than I have too.

violence, crime scene depiction: cannon typical throughout this story

kidnapping: Unsub is implied to kidnap victims and hold them for a few days.

decapitation: this is part of the unsubs M.O.