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cometkenji · 20 days

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the warm spot at the bottom of the stairs

Pairing: Ghost!Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!Reader CW: Fluff, Mild Angst, Soulmate AU, reader has dreams, mentions of sex/masturbation, mentions of death, cursing, reader feels like she knows him but they've never met, let me know if I missed anything please! Summary: After inheriting your grandfather's estate, you fall in love with the man from your dreams. He just so happens to be in your house, too. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but in this she's literally not described aside from the fact that she has hips, a stomach, and legs on her body. WC: 9k (this is what happens when you let a man cook) This fic is genuinely my baby. I love soulmate aus with all my heart and soul and also love the dynamic of falling in love with a ghost. Enjoy this please, I tried <3

You swore the heat radiating off the sidewalk was enough to melt the soles of your shoes down to liquid. The sun was unforgivably angry today, glaring down at the world like it had a score to settle. You were less than thankful, as the death of your grandfather had stolen any desire you once held for warmth. The brutal dichotomy of the cold pit sitting in your stomach and the burning heat of the day only added to the sour taste in your mouth.

This house was fucking huge.

You had no idea how your grandfather managed to hide such an enormous investment from everyone in his life but he’d managed the task seamlessly. Nobody even knew what he was giving you at first. The reading of the will and testimony left nothing but confused relatives until they had found the address that marked the estate. Some were jealous of you, some were confused, some even asked if they could come live with you once you got settled in. You had been absolutely floored when you learned he’d given you a house. Being fresh out of university, you were moving on to grad school while simultaneously preparing yourself to live with your mother until you could afford anything besides student debt payments.

Now though, you had a castle, with no clue why a house this big was given to you of all people. You were your grandpa’s only grandchild and were by far one of the least deserving of such a generosity. Sure, you were close, but never abnormally close. You talked once a week on the phone and were glued to his side at family gatherings - but he saw your aunt everyday, and spoke with your mother much more than he ever did you. Was it pity? Maybe he saw this as the only plausible way of you escaping the fate of leeching off your mother. Hopefully he didn’t think of you so lowly.

You mentally cursed at the dull ache in your legs that persisted even after stretching. You had been driving all day with a car packed full of stuff that needed to be hauled into the house, and only yourself to move said stuff. You said a short plea in your head to not let the pain hinder your speed and began walking into the house to view the inside. The estate was isolated, huge fences of greenery surrounded the place, adding to the pleasant sight of budding flowers throughout the front yard. Even without the towering hedges, though, the nearest neighbor was miles away. Great, you thought. Any concerns of your car being robbed while you were gone were extinguished as quick as they came, but you locked the car regardless. Force of habit.

The heat was only lessened slightly when you reached the interior. You made a mental note to get the A.C. turned on, no way a temperature like this was a liveable one. You’re sure the numerous floor-to-ceiling windows were the culprit. They were excessive. Beautiful - of course - and you were thrilled at the amount of light they let in, but you could basically see the heatwaves permeating through the stained glass. Your eyes caught on the odd choice. The slightly colored glass making the mansion feel mildly like a church, the thought coming to you quickly and stripping any of the minimal comfort you held moments prior. That’s weird, you thought. Your grandpa had never been particularly religious. He was a man of faith - said grace before dinner and thanked Jesus for every day he lived, but never to this extent. He was rather progressive for a man his age.

The kitchen could have easily fit a team of 12 and you wondered if there had been staff at one point. There was no sign of any employees, and you prayed there weren’t any left working. The last thing you wanted was more responsibility in your life. You took your time walking the house, marveling at every painting and polished chandelier that was now an asset of yours. The house was gorgeous, you’d give at least that much to the old man. The centerpiece, of course, was the large spiral staircase leading to the second floor. As large as the house was, it held only two stories. Getting it’s square footage from length, rather than width. It was equally as glamorous as the house it resided in, however it filled you with a certain devastation you couldn’t place. As though your most primal self rejected the idea of it. That’s silly, you thought. You wanted to go upstairs, you were definitely not avoiding half of your house because a couple of your neck hairs stood at attention. The only real peculiarity was the heat pooling at the very bottom of the staircase. The kind of heat that seemed to thread itself into you, intertwine itself with your very being. The rest of the house was cold and accusatory, if your grandfather ever did live here, any of his warmth was flushed out by his death. This was the only spot in the whole house you felt calm, cared for. You could bask in it, weirdly fascinated with the little pocket of humanity that sat there.

It was more difficult than you’d expected to pull yourself out of it, and you could have sworn you felt arms trying to pull you back in. Ten minutes into your new life and you were already on edge. Negative feelings didn’t seem to penetrate the spot at the bottom of the stairs, so you physically felt the wave of unease when it struck you upon exiting. The upstairs was creepy. The abundance of windows was apparently only a trend on the first floor, as the second floor held dark, dim hallways. The whole thing, it seemed, was lit up by ancient lamps that lined the walls. It reminded you of the Shining, and you wondered briefly if maybe your mother would let you move back in. There was a bedroom right near the staircase, and you decided it would be yours. It could have been the smallest one for all you knew, the only thing you cared about was a quick escape if such a thing was needed. Something about the house put thoughts like that at the front of your mind.

You don’t recall ever being a paranoid person, nor a believer in the supernatural, but this house was watching you. The feeling of eyes on you was simply too strong to write off. What a warm welcome.

—

It had been a week, but the nights so far had been sleepless ones. The people you called on day one were just now getting around to starting the A.C. so you were hoping for a decent rest tonight. The fridge was stocked, your things mainly unpacked, and the house started feeling a little more like you with each day. Although, your friends were more or less convinced there was a ghost living with you. You spoke of the feelings you had, plus the fact it was an old and mildly creepy house, and they were off and running with theories. One of the tamer ones consisted of the house being an old church - given the windows - and that the eyes you were feeling were perhaps an old priest who died here. You were less than fond of that idea, but you would take it any day to the other propositions of old mental hospitals and certain death. You made a mental note to never again let your friends speculate on situations you couldn’t get out of.

You argued that a malevolent spirit wouldn’t invoke such a comforting sense within you. You felt watched - yes - but it wasn’t as though you felt stalked. It was much worse, actually, you felt lonely. Loneliness was never a battle you fought very hard in. You had hobbies, and you had friends. The desire for a romantic companion usually took the back burner if it was even a thought at all. People questioned the topic - you were pretty, smart, capable - what more could somebody want? They asked if you were insecure, if you liked girls, told you that you were wasting your “prime years” and needed to find someone - but it was never that simple. You just didn’t get it. The feelings others spoke of were unfamiliar ones to you. You held your breath for a long time before realizing that it probably just wasn’t for you, that you were built a little differently.

Needless to say, you were uncomfortable with the sudden sensation. It felt like seeing the moon in a glass jar - something unfathomably beautiful but something you were unable to hold. Lord knows it wasn’t from a lack of desire, though. You’re sure you reeked of longing, able to suppress the lot of it but unable to stop some from slipping through the cracks of your fingers. And with no obvious direction to cast it, it just clung to you and seeped back into your skin.

–

“No, dude, I’m telling you shit’s fucking weird.” You shoveled popcorn into your mouth as you spoke with your friend. This was the third call since you moved in. “Every night I wake up at like two in the morning and just for a split second I feel it. It’s like I'm lying on someone’s shoulder or something. And - oh my god - the amount of times I get stuck in that fucking warm spot on the stairs is gonna drive me crazy.”

You could hear her laughing at your frustration on the other end. “What do you mean you get stuck? Y/n I'm getting worried about your mental state.”

“No I’m telling you, I walk in this one - like - warm spot and I enter some kind of trance. Like I want to leave but I can’t - Jesus!”

“Are you alright?” Your friend was quick to ask, hearing you cut yourself off mid sentence.

“No! This shit is haunted I swear. My kitchen lights just turned off for no reason. If I die here I’m blaming you and Kelly for not getting me out.” You were being dramatic, you knew that, but it was starting to feel justified. You don’t remember a time in the last week you felt truly by yourself.

“Hey don’t blame us for your own choi-” She started speaking, but you lost her.

“Hello? You there?” You tried calling her again but the usual buzz of the dial tone was dead silent, the lamps that were illuminating the house followed soon after. Phone lines were the first to go in a power outing. No fucking way the power just went out. You felt around in the dark for the drawer of the end table. There had been a flashlight on the counter when you’d first arrived. You threw it in the end table because you had no clue why it was there - you were thanking God you’d done so while also praying the thing had batteries in it. You wrapped your hand around the object and said one more plea to the stars you wouldn’t have to be without light until tomorrow. Somebody must have been listening, as the room lit up when you hit the ‘on’ switch of the flashlight.

You’d seen the fuse box towards the south end of the upstairs hallway, sitting between a Da Vinci replica and a mirror taken straight from a movie star's wet dream. I’m gonna die was the only thing you could think at a moment like this. You were for sure going to see glowing red eyes at the end of the hall and die a horrific and bloody death. Thanks grandpa. The warm spot was a welcome refuge from your journey to certain death, and you embraced the sense of peace it brought you at a time when your heart was surely beating too fast. You held the light in front of you as you ventured up the stairs. The top of them seemed cartoonishly haunting, you thought momentarily that you would fit perfectly into a Scooby Doo episode. It was vast and dark, having multiple pathways you could walk down, but you set your sights on the south hall and did your best to disable your peripheral vision. It was right there. You just had to reset the power and you’d have your precious light back. Who puts a fucking mirror above a fuse box?

You held the flashlight between your teeth as you focused on your task. Open and reset. Open and reset. It was truly as simple as that and then you could be done. Go watch a midnight rerun on TV and pray that the spirits would leave you alone. Open and reset. The switches were flipped off - you didn’t think that was normal but what did you know - so you flipped them back on and heard the hum of life returning to the house. Thank God. Your nerves dissipated almost immediately. You were alright, no ghost had it out for you. It’s an old house, and would probably experience things like this a lot. You could do that again if you had to. You looked up, though, and ate your words. There was definitely a man behind you. If you had been trying to look at him, you would have seen he was young, tall. You probably would have thought he was attractive, but you had no time for that. You whirled around, yelping at the sight of him and mentally preparing to defend your life. It proved futile though, he was gone as quickly as he came. There was nowhere he could have gone that fast, so as much as you were certain he was there, you settled for him being imaginary. It was dark upstairs, and you were scared out of your mind. Surely your eyes were overcompensating for the paranoia that was racing through you. You walked back to the couch on guard and decided to call your friend back tomorrow. It was nearly twelve, and you knew she had work tomorrow. You could cope using TV and proper lighting to comfort you until sunrise. What’s one more sleepless night?

“You boys let me know if you need anything.” You heard the words in your own voice as if listening to a stranger.

“Sure thing, doll.” All the men were in uniform. Gray fabric covered their bodies, adorned with hats of the same color. Soldiers.

You walked back behind the front counter as the bell above the door continuously chimed at the arrival of new guests. Orders were being shouted to the cooks. You stared at the bold letters painted on the large graffiti piece decorating the wall, “Cathy’s Cooking.” A greasy apron covered the light blue dress beneath it - waitress attire. The smell of fried eggs clashed hard with the scent of sanitizer you were using to wipe down the counter. Bells rang to signal orders were ready to be taken out to guests, and you discarded the rag you used to mop up spilled coffee.

“Thanks, Benny.” You nodded to the chef as you took the food plates to table two. He nodded back at you before returning to flipping bacon.

“L/N!” Your manager barked at you. “Take your break. Be back in thirty.” He was a friendly man, though he got a bit hostile under pressure.

You couldn’t be more thankful for the break. It was hour 6 of your shift and you were beginning to think he might never let you off. You removed the apron as quick as possible and excused yourself out the back entrance to cool off in the alley way. It got hot as hell during rush hour, so the way the slight breeze nipped your cheeks felt like heaven.

“Tough shift?”

“Jesus!”

He started laughing as you startled, turning to face him. “‘Fraid it’s just me, honey.” He walked towards you as you grinned at him.

“You scared me, Spence.”

He shook his head, mocking you. “I’m so sorry.” Drama queen. “How ever will I make it up to you?”

You giggled at that, and wrapped your arms around his neck as he got closer. He put his hands on your hips, leaning you against the brick wall of the alley. You could feel your lungs open up when he kissed you, always feeling like you could breathe better when his lips were on yours. He was your God given destresser. He still donned his uniform but had opted for taking the hat off, he knew you hated when his hair was hidden.

“That’s not very nice, Reid. I thought you were a gentleman. What would your boys think of you being so mean to a lady?”

He smiled a bit at that. “You like when I’m a little mean, Y/N.”

Fuck. He had you there.

You looked to the side for a second to snuff out some of the tension. “How long are you here for?”

“We’re in town for two weeks. Gotta catch a boat up to base 14 on the 20th. Supposedly they’re preparing for a big fight.”

You frowned as you made eye contact with him.“I get so worried about you. About all of you. I don’t know what I’d do if - you know if something happened.” He’d been a soldier for a little while now, joining when he turned 18. He’d kept his hands on your hips, and you started to run your hands through his hair, a nervous habit you picked up when the two of you first got together.

“I know, honey. But by the time it’s done I’ll be off my leash. I do this and we can run away together.”

You looked at him the way you always did - with such admiration and love that he often had to look away before it went to his head. He swore he looked at you the same, but you knew deep down nobody could love anyone as much as you loved him. You laughed a bit at the elation you got from just his presence.

“I got lucky with you, Reid.”

He just shook his head. “Give yourself more credit, L/n.”

Your consciousness hit you like a truck and you realized before long that sun was shining through the windows. You’d fallen asleep sometime between ultimate terror and fleeting hope of your survival. And that dream - dear lord what the fuck was that dream. It was more vivid than you thought possible. You always forget most of your dreams when you wake up, but this time it felt like forgetting would be a betrayal. You could recall word for word every single thing about that dream. It was as though you saw a movie of your own life. A feeling so familiar you could taste it but just far enough to escape your grasp - and boy were you reaching. Not to mention the man. You didn’t know if this was some sort of coping mechanism you were inventing in your head but that was definitely the same man from the mirror last night. An imaginary friend. You had an imaginary friend as a grown woman. Terrific.

–

“You’re never going to attract a suiter with such a tragic expression, my dear.” This had to be the third time your mother had roused this point in the past hour.

“These dances are dreadful, idiotic nights of captivity that do nothing but mock the existence of genuine companionship.” The irony of you saying this while patting your cheeks with rose pigment was not lost on you. “Let me scrub myself raw and willingly restrain myself in hopes a man will see me and fall in love.” You spat out the last word with enough vitriol to hopefully drown yourself in. “Maybe he’ll like me so much he’ll lay claim and I can live on to be his housewife and half a person. How I've always dreamed of letting a man decide how much value I have.” You were flustered by the end of your spiel, looking at your mother through the large vanity with the tentative hope of a child asking for sweets.

“You read too much, darling. Those little romance books of yours are nothing but nonsense.” She was a professional at writing you off by now. “You know plenty of women who are perfectly satisfied with their lives. This is how we do things, Y/n. I don’t understand why you insist on fighting it so intently.”

She was never truly angry at your defiance, only tired. You could never tell if she was tired of you complaining or if she, like you, was tired of living this way. Your mother had married young - even for the times - and you knew your father left much to be desired in her life. They were basically repulsed by each other, only joining in union to produce a child. Your mother had been thrilled to have a daughter. Your father would trade you if he could, but he made do. The ultimate lack of affection between the two of them made you ill. You weren’t much older than your mother had been, you could very well end up trapped and child-bound in a loveless marriage.

“I would rather die alone than end up with my father.” You spoke, she sighed.

“I know.”

You stared at her through the mirror for a moment longer, then you rose from your chair. Your makeup was done, your look now complete. You noticed your mother’s eyes start to well up at the sight of you and she started to walk closer.

“My beautiful girl.” She smiled, forbidding the tears to venture down her cheeks, and held your shoulders. “You deserve a man who will worship you. Your future husband will be the luckiest man on planet Earth.” A gentle prompt, but a prompt nonetheless. You knew she loved you, but she carried more shame as you got older. Having only a daughter was something frowned upon, but having only a daughter hellbent on avoiding marriage was something that weighed on her.

“I’ll see you in the carriage.” Then she was gone, kissing your cheek and taking her exit to go talk with the director of the communal ride. Carriage was being generous, it was more like a one-way wagon to the local suiter’s ball. You watched her leave with a sense of grief so intense it nearly toppled you. She deserved a man like that too.

This was your third ball of the month. The pool of potential partners diminished with each one. People would often take whatever they could get, meaning less and less people even needed these nights anymore. You walked in with your mother, hand resting gently in the crook of her extended elbow. Your father stopped attending with the two of you a while ago. You believed he’d given up hope of a man ever choosing you - Lord knows he wouldn’t. Scanning the crowd, you saw little to look forward to. The music was pleasant, you would dance with a couple men who seemed bearable at best and criminal at worst, indulge in some of the enticing pastries and teas, and then you would leave. Back home until your mother dragged you out the following week for another one. With your current rate, you assumed you would end up marrying the vagabond that perused your neighboring streets. Taking another look around, you thought you might prefer that.

You made your temporary home in a corner chair, letting your mother excitedly drag prospects up to you and watch dejectedly as they ruled you out as an option. You felt bad for her, considered caving in and finding a man to give you a child, but you remember swiftly how long the years take to pass when you’re miserable. The chair gave you a good view of the room, you could see the entrance and the dancefloor filled with enticing women waiting for men to notice them. You could feel the sweat start slicking your skin beneath the corset you wore. It was too hot in here.

If you hadn’t been so determined to ignore the occasional advances of bored men, you would have missed the small group entering the area. Two women and two men, you wondered briefly if it was two couples, but discarded that thought. This wasn’t a place for couples. You felt your heart physically lurch at the sight of the last man in the row of four, as though your heart was running to greet an old friend. Had you seen him before? Surely you would have remembered such a visceral reaction. You averted your eyes before he could notice you. You don’t remember ever wanting to be noticed by a man - especially not this badly. You allowed yourself the escape of your own thoughts, getting lost in your head to pass the time and focus on anything other than what was probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?”

You looked up, he was standing above you. The chair next to you had been taken all night, the same woman had been sulking in her seat, and you found comfort in the fact someone else was unhappy to be here. She was gone now. Someone was definitely messing with you.

“Not at all.”

Your mouth was drier than it had ever been. You wondered if your lips remained stained from the color you applied earlier. You’d done nothing but sit all night and yet you were praying nothing had happened to your makeup.

“Why are you alone in a corner?”

“Men tend to be repulsed by my pessimism. I also happen to hate it here. Serves for a less than desirable combination.” You refused to let your sudden attraction diminish your stubbornness. You hated the self-consciousness racing through you, no man had the right to take your assurance in yourself.

“Why do you hate it here?” He wasn’t being mocking. He seemed - genuinely - a little sad at the thought of you being unhappy.

“Well, sir, I am of the belief that these dances are nothing but congregations of people settling for lives that won’t make them happy. They trade excitement for safety as though the presence of security has to mean the presence of misery. I don’t think anyone can know the true meaning of love in our current state as a society.” You didn’t look at him as you spoke, instead staring out at the people dancing. “I hold no desire to settle. I am capable of making happiness on my own. Most men don’t like the thought of me not needing them.”

You were almost positive you lost him. You were betting on him not being there when you looked, preparing yourself to bite the bullet and cope with tonight’s losses. Maybe your mother would agree to leave early.

You heard him chuckle softly. “Sir.” He repeated your words, finding humor in the formality. “My name’s Spencer.” He added. “And I also happen to hate the purpose of these events. I’ve never actually been to one before, but I’m new to the city, and something about tonight was begging me to come out.”

You were absolutely bewitched by him. “I’m Y/n.”

“Fitting.” He smiled, a smile directed at his own thoughts, as though something in his mind had clicked. “Will you dance with me?”

The music had slowed severely. You scoffed at his proposal, but you were taking his hand as if you’d been waiting on this. Maybe you had been. You were grateful for the ballad that was playing, never having been one for upbeat dancing. He led you gracefully, and for once you felt yourself relinquish power. With a mind like yours, a man’s company was almost never wanted. With this one, though, you laid your heart at his feet as if you’d done so a dozen times before. The heat of his hands was seeping through your dress, and his eyes were locked with yours.

“I feel like I know you.” A confession. He had an effect like that.

“Maybe you do.”

–

Two in the morning. Everyday you’d woken up at two in the morning from a different dream involving the mysterious ‘Spencer Reid’. You friends had kindly dubbed him the “Man of your dreams” following the stories you told them. You’d been a housewife, trying to welcome him home from work before he laid you down and made an altar of your dining table.You’d been the daughter of a king, at one point, falling in love with his favored knight. Shamefully, that one haunted you. Reappearing in your mind during intimate times when you needed a spark. You’d never been one for desire either. When your friends started preaching the wonders of sex to you during your highschool days, you felt no pull towards the act. Just another it you didn’t understand. Now, though, this house served as an aphrodisiac. You lost count of your streak by day 13, and were now just begging whoever put this apparition in your home for the strength to keep your hand out of your pants.

Spencer had become more like a roommate rather than an unwanted guest. You saw him in most reflective surfaces around the house. You felt him everywhere. He sat at the table with you, watched TV with you, he would wait by the door when you got home from work. Sometimes, your hand or your shoulder would run hot. Physically hot, like he was putting his hands on you. You wondered if he was around during those times, but if he was there he made sure you didn’t know it. You were gaining a sort of intuition for him. The thought Spencer would like that struck you numerous times when you were window shopping or when you tried on an outfit. You were starting to think maybe you were just crazy. Perhaps a ghost who seemed to be your soulmate and made you incredibly horny was how all psychotic breaks started.

Weirdly, through your bizarre dreams and inconsistent sleeping patterns, this was the most well rested you’d felt in a while. Waking up at two am was routine now, sometimes you managed to fall back asleep afterwards but most times you were up dwelling on the images your mind had shown you that night. You thought maybe your body was just adjusting - surely it was nothing supernatural giving you energy - just the adaptivity of the human brain. One persistent thing you couldn’t adapt to, though, was how much you missed him. The increasing number of times you woke up to being the only occupant of your bed was starting to wear you down. You feel like you’d spent lifetimes with this man and yet he was someone you never knew. You'd seen the two of you fall in love countless different ways except the one that actually counted - the present.

“I genuinely don’t know how much longer I can do this.” Another phone call, another conversation about your rapidly declining mental state. “I have fallen in love with a figment of my own imagination. Surely this is some demented form of narcissism.”

“I don’t think it works like that, Y/n.” Your friend was terrible at comforting people. It probably didn’t help that you hadn’t been fully honest with her about the severity of your situation. From where she was standing, you had learned to lucid dream and now that was bleeding mildly into your real life. Not the biggest deal, maybe you were just lonely.

“It’s a ghost, dude, I’m fucking telling you. There’s no way I’m imaginative enough to conjure all this shit up.”

“You know his name right? Go down to the library and look him up. If he’s a ghost then surely there’ll be something to find.”

Holy shit. She was a genius. “Oh my God you’re so smart. I love you. You just saved my life. You’re God’s gift to the planet. Who would I be witho-”

“Jesus Christ will you just go? Stop kissing my ass and start driving. I want details when you get back.”

You don’t know if you’ve ever been so eager to get to the library of all places. If you could snag a computer spot then you could put an end to all of this. He wasn’t real, realistically you knew that, but you had a fool-proof way to check. If he was real you were going to have to come to terms with the fact you could see dead people. Well, a dead person. You had never seen any before Spencer. You’d never seen Spencer either, not before the house at least. They say you can’t make up faces, that if you see someone in a dream then you’ve seen them in real life but you were incredibly doubtful of that by now.

Spencer Reid. Thankfully the man didn’t have a particularly common name. You hoped there would be limited matches, less to look through. Pretty soon you could accept your own mental insanity and maybe ask your mother to spot you for some therapy. Well, moment of truth. You watched each letter be typed in with baited breath until his full name was in the search bar. Even just looking at his name brought that sense of calm. You were hopeless. Until, apparently, you weren’t.

Brilliant Dr. Reid dead at 26

Former FBI agent Spencer Reid found dead in his home

Spencer Reid co-workers speak out on his legacy. Where to go from here?

You scoured every article you could find, analyzing every pixel of every image available. This was your guy. Same Spencer Reid from your dreams. Same Spencer Reid that stands behind you in every mirror of the house. Holy shit who was this guy? He was a little older than you, died last year in the summertime. Each article painted a brutal picture of his death, speculating on how the doctor died but never comfirming anything. Only that he was dead when paramedics got there, the sight of his covered body being extracted from his home was one that would stick with you. His home. It was the same house you were living in. It’s possible your grandfather was renting it out. That’s probably why nobody ever knew about it - he wasn’t living there. You didn’t know when water started pooling in your eyes, you only realized them as they started falling down your cheeks. You didn’t even know him. You didn’t even know him but you felt like someone just sucker punched you and were about 60% sure your lunch was coming back up. Jesus.

There was no way you could tell your friends about this. The majority of your brain was pleading with you to rationalize this. Maybe you’d seen one of the articles before. Maybe your grandpa talked about him. Holy shit he had known your grandpa. Every individual thought you had was identifiable and that was far too overwhelming for your brain to handle. You signed out of the computer and went to go sit in your car. Could you even drive like this? Your hands were shaking so bad there was a good chance you’d crash the car before you got home. It’s twenty minutes, you thought. You had to go back. Staying away from the house any longer felt like a punishment. You can make it twenty minutes.

–

“No, no. Like I said it was just some old guy who wrote a book. No sign of my Spencer.” You were lying straight through your teeth. You figured it didn’t truly matter. If you sat here and told the entire story of finding exactly who you were looking for online, you think she’d have checked you into a facility.

“Maybe if you believe hard enough you can manifest him.”

“Wow you’re hilarious. Remind me again how I ever lived my life without such a humorous presence.”

“I question that same thing everyday, Y/n.” You could hear the smile embedded in her words.

“I’ll let you go. I know Dylan is probably waiting on you. Thanks for checking up on the Spencer chronicles.” You felt slightly bad. She was on her honeymoon currently, and instead of spending time with her new husband, she was listening to your stories of fraternizing with a ghost.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this. I’m sure it’s weird as hell. Call me up if you need to, yeah? Hotel has unlimited calls so I can talk all night if you need to.” She was an angel in this world.

“Thanks, same goes here. If you get sick of your husband you know where to find me. Remember to use protection.”

“Alright, nevermind. You may suffer by yourself for all I care.” She laughed while she threatened you.

“Bye, honey. Love you.” You should have felt alone, but you never did. He was most likely here with you.

The exhaustion had well and truly crept up on you. You planned on getting home and calling your friend immediately, but you ended up needing a good few hours to cry and pace around the house. You weren’t scared - it was essentially the opposite. The complete lack of fear bred so much confusion that you didn’t know how to cope with the amount of frustration on your shoulders. You paced the house hoping to find him. You wanted to be near him. You harbored the immature hope that knowing who he was would grant you the ability to see him. Did you even know who he was? He was a doctor, an agent, but who was he to you? Is that what you needed to know in order to see him?

Now, sitting on your bed, you felt like you’d been through the ringer. The mental gymnastics of the day weighing heavily on your body. You needed to go to sleep. You wanted to go to sleep. In the last week or so you’d noticed a certain excitement regarding the promise of another tale, another dream. They were so extravagant, not even in the details of them, just in the consistency of pure emotion. You could have been fighting dragons or sitting on the porch in rocking chairs. If he was by your side, there was always this certain euphoria surrounding the two of you. A feeling reserved just for you and him. God you missed him.

–

You woke up slowly to a familiar bed beneath you, this was your house. The window was open, curtains blowing cautiously as the mild chill of the Fall breeze wafted in and dusted over your collarbones. It wasn’t this cold last night. You felt the breeze again on your whole body, and realized you were lying naked on top of the ruffled comforter. Had he pulled the blanket off you?

“Are you cold? I didn’t think to shut the window when I got up. I was kind of rushing to get my stuff.” You noticed then that he was sat behind a canvas, angled so he could glance between you and the task at hand with ease. He noticed you furrow your eyebrows, and even managed to catch the minuscule tense of your muscles as you prepared to sit up.

“Stay still for me, honey. I’m almost done.” He was adding feather-light brushstrokes to the piece, a finishing touch of his you now recognized from watching him paint so much.

“This isn’t a very good pose, Spence. You know I’m not the most photogenic.” You referred to the fact you had been sleeping as he painted, limbs not organized and environment chaotic. Notoriously unfavored things by the man. Maybe he was hoping to capture a candid version of you.

He exhaled a laugh. “How rich coming from you.” His lips quirked upward as he continued adding touch-ups to his art. “Something about you this morning…I don’t know.” He shook his head like he was talking to himself rather than you. “You just looked…mesmerizing.” He shrugged, brushing off the sentiment. “Felt wrong to just look at you.”

Dumbfounded was the only word you could think to describe yourself. He’d painted you before, mainly from the neck up for practice with faces, but this was different terrain. You were nervous to see the piece. You thought of your hips, your stomach, your legs. A silhouette he’d sworn time and time again was worthy of worship. One he wanted to treasure. You hoped you’d see a glimpse of yourself through his lens, hoped all that adoration would show on the canvas. Once he was finished with it, he turned it so you could see. It was breathtaking. His talent never failed to leave you speechless.

“I feel like I should be paying for this.” You joked, but still felt as though something should be given in return. He stood from his stool and joined you on the bed.

“I assure you, I’m well compensated.” Your face ran hot. “Can I hang it?”

“Spence, I’m naked-”

“Not downstairs, Y/n.” He chuckled. “I’d put it there.” He nodded to a vacant wall space on the right side of the room, entirely visible from his side of the bed.

“You want me watching you sleep, Reid?”

He grinned at you, shaking his head slightly at your remark. “Just wanna be able to see you.” He held your eyes. “I’m hoping looking at you before I go to sleep will give me good dreams.” You hummed in sarcastic agreement, your gaze falling soft a moment later.

“You can if you want to.” He looked relieved.

“Thanks, honey.” He looked stunning in the morning light. The sun hadn’t risen too long ago, and he was only covered partially by a pair of joggers. He was practically luminous, the bare skin of his chest looking golden in the sunlight. You stuck your hands out to feel him, and you felt as though you were trying to touch heaven itself. He leaned down to be closer to you, he always said you felt magnetic.

“You should let me paint you like this more often.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm”

And, just like before, you could breathe again when he kissed you. Truly breathe. It was times like these when he felt like your oxygen, like pulling away should be sin. Lord knows you would suffer any version of Hell for him.

–

Your frustration seemed to have doubled in your sleep. Two am. You were gonna find that fucking painting. It wasn’t in the spot he left it - you would have noticed a giant painting of yourself naked on the walls, but you double checked to be sure. You threw up every light switch you came across and started scavenging through the upstairs. There was a certain tug in your body - when you didn’t find it in a room, you knew it wasn’t there, something internal telling you to look elsewhere. It was only when you were halfway done with the downstairs raid that you remembered the storage room. You’d found it when you first moved in, a room full of dust and white tarps covering furniture and other indecipherable shapes. It had to be in there.

You wrecked havoc on the tiny room. Tearing off layers of fabric quickly, leaving little thought to where you were throwing them, completely tunnel visioned on finding the painting. You came across a covered square the same size as the canvas had been. It was coated in so much dust that the covering looked ancient, and you were begging any conceivable being to be merciful, to let you have at least this if you couldn’t have him. You unveiled the shape to find the same vibrant pigments you’d seen just hours before. It was you, draped over the comforter and basking in the hue of the morning. This was it, you thought. Holy shit this is real. You had no grounds to deny this anymore. Spencer was a real guy, clearly he’d died in this house and clearly the two of you had lived enough lives together to fill months of sleepless nights with.

What did this mean for you? Were you a clone? Were you and Spencer both clones? Were you living in a simulated reality and all of this was actually a ruse calculated to induce reactions in the brain that could then be studied? Oh my god - were you a ghost too? Had you died and were now stuck in some form of purgatory?

You felt sick with it. You didn’t know you were capable of bearing such intense metaphorical weight. You needed to see him. Maybe if you went to sleep, you would realize you were having a dream and could figure some things out. That’s so stupid. You mentally scolded yourself for even thinking of such a dumb idea. You needed to speak with him. You needed him to tell you what was going on. Of course him and everyone in your life who could have known him were six feet deep. A seance, maybe? Perhaps just buy a ouija board and wing it. You’d seen the most of him when you were asleep, that had to be the key to figuring this out. Please dear god let it be the key to figuring this out. You took the painting and headed back upstairs. Maybe it could serve as a medium, you thought. That’s a thing, right?

You don’t think your bed had ever seemed so uninviting. You remember how grateful you’d been to finally sleep on your first day here. It was a pain in the ass hauling a mattress up a spiral staircase and the moment you realized you were done was a relief to say the least. Now you stared at it and your mouth ran dry. What if this didn’t work? What did you even want to happen? Were you going to rummage through your dreams and play detective to piece together what might have happened in your past? No degree of mental antagonizing could push you off course by now. He was real. You know he’d been a real man, and surely the painting of you meant you’d known him as something other than a ghost. You were simply praying this would work out how you wanted. You needed a semblance of closure, even just a small one.

–

The room was dark, making you double check if you opened your eyes in the first place. You hadn’t had a dream. This was the first time in months you had fallen asleep and woken up without having lived a different life. You felt tears forming in your eyes. The disappointment you felt was so immeasurable that your brain practically short circuited trying to find a way to process it. You knew it was a long shot for everything to be fixed overnight, but you’d expected something. Like he was reading your mind, the bed dipped down, him now occupying the space next to you in bed.

You were worried your head might fall off your neck with how quickly you turned to look at him. The moonlight came beaming in through the window, like she was your secret ally, giving you enough light to finish your battle. It lit him up, practically shining through him like it would a crystal. He was ethereal. You stared into the same brown eyes you’d been looking into for months and felt your resolve give way from within you. You could have looked at him forever, you wanted to look at him forever, but you crashed hard into him. You would have fused your soul to his at that very moment if you were able to. Nobody had ever drawn out such a reaction - you needed to feel him. It was the proof you had been begging for, he was here, he was tangible. You could finally know what it all meant.

You felt his chest jolt as he chuckled at you. “I missed you.” You could hear the smile in his words.

Choking on a sob, you spoke your response so quietly you could barely hear yourself. “What the fuck is going on?” You knew tears were probably soaking through his shirt but he just held you against him. “Please tell me you know what’s happening.” You were muttering your words quickly, sharply inhaling between your sentences as air refused to stay in your lungs.

He ran his hand up and down the length of your forearm, a motion so familiar and so comforting you’re sure your knees would have buckled if you weren’t lying down. “Just relax, honey. I can explain everything, ok? I just need you to breathe right now.”

It was hard to maintain your oxygen through the sobs begging to get out of your chest but you were nothing if not stubborn. You needed an explanation. If that was his condition then so be it. You took a deep breath, regaining your ability to inhale and exhale at a regular pace. You could see the room better now having been awake in the dark for a while, so you tried to focus on anything that might help. The painting. You stared holes into that thing and forced your breathing to even out.

“I was really proud of that one.” His words held an instinctual twinge of fondness, still smiling as he spoke. Like now that he had you, he could describe any horror of the world and still be happy with you in his arms. He looked back at you, tracing his thumb along your jaw. “You seem to get prettier with every lifetime.”

Even as the overwhelming confusion wrecked your brain, your body was completely in tune with him. Warmth seemed to spring to life in your stomach, his words bypassing any guards you had to root themselves within you. He regarded the situation so lightly, so casually. He wasn’t worried about slipping away, or running out of time. He would have given you a decade to calm down if you needed it. He seemed content with just calling you pretty, as though he’d waited a century to touch you again.

“My dreams, were they -” You paused. You didn’t even know what to ask him. “What were my dreams?” Were they real?

He took a moment to just stare at you. The smallest, knowing smile on his face and a look of pure adoration in his eyes. He knew what you were asking. “They were us.” Fucking obviously. If you were any more on the edge of your seat you would fall off. “All the lives we’ve lived together.” Jesus.

“How long ago-”

“Two thousand years, 5 months, 27 days, and-” he leaned up slightly to check the clock “14 hours.” Giving you the cutest tight-lipped smile when he finished talking like he didn’t just say you’d been in love for two millennia.

“So we’re soul mates?”

“Essentially.” He nodded. ‘Soulmates’ was close enough.

“But - is everyone like this, then?” Did all your friends have this too? Everyone in the world? “Everyone has a soulmate?” Your friend’s on her honeymoon right now.

He laughed a little and shook his head. “No, no. It’s just us.” What was so special about the two of you? “For all I know of at least. Your uh…your husband-” He hesitated for just a second, fingers digging into your skin just a fraction harder. “He found out about us. Had his mother cast a spell. He thought he was punishing us, I think. Figured we’d get sick of it after a while. Poor guy, all he did was condemn us to eternity together.” He held no genuine pity for the guy, more amusement at the thought of his plan actually succeeding.

“How long have you been here?” You hadn’t bothered to check when the articles were from, too busy trying to keep your head on straight to look for the publication date.

“A year.” A year of him alone in this house. God, you couldn’t even imagine. “I started having dreams of you. Everyday I just felt, like, something pulling me away from where I was. I knew your grandfather from an old case I worked and everything just seemed to happen.” He reminisced fondly, like the memory didn’t hurt him. “I don’t even really know how I died. I just remember having a party one night, and how the hallway looked from the bottom of the stairs.” Oh my God the warm spot.

“When you moved in I was thrilled but - fuck, honey, it was torture.” He delivered the line like it was a joke but his eyes were watering. “I couldn’t talk to you, I couldn’t help you - I couldn’t fucking touch you and it was unbearable.” His hands hadn’t left you since you woke up. Making up for lost time, you guessed. There was one question you were brutally aware of, something that persisted in your head even as you tried to enjoy the moment.

“Why can I see you now, then?”

He sighed, so full of devastation that it was clear he’d been preparing for this. “You can’t.”

“What?”

“You’ve seen all our lives, Y/n. This is the only one left.” He was so delicate in his explanations. His palms soothing over your face as if trying to physically soothe the sting of his words.

“Wait what does that-” What was he talking about? “I don’t understand.”

“To be honest, I don’t really understand it either.” He exhaled at his own ignorance, the words unfamiliar in his mouth. “For the first time, I don’t know what’s gonna happen when you wake up.”

“Wake up? What do you mean wake up - Spence I’m awake.” You held onto his wrist that was near your face for emphasis, his hand still caressing your face. “I’m awake.”

His eyes were definitely watering. “No, Y/n, you’re not.”

“Spencer.” You’d never said it so sadly before. Tears were in your eyes for the second time that night. You would have done anything to carve this moment into stone. Sit here in his arms until time forced you into your next life.

“It’s ok, honey.” He was always reassuring, always safe. “We’ve done this for two thousand years, Y/n. You’re bound to get a little unlucky sometimes.” His optimism in the face of such a crushing development almost made you sick. Some things never change. “I finally have you back, alright? Just lay with me for a while. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We’ve got plenty more lives to live.”

You halted the tears in your eyes, sniffling once to reign yourself in. “Ok.” You laughed, a little tearfully, and kissed him with all the love you had to give.

Plenty more lives to live.

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wen-kexing-apologist · 20 days

Text

LOSING MY MIND OVER UNKNOWN EPISODE 8

Another week, another incredible episode of Unknown, another shout into the ether that they do not fuck this up for me in the final four episodes. Chris and Kurt are so good together as scene partners, but I am definitely dubbing Episode 8, The Chris Episode because holy hell was Chris juggling so many different emotions from Qian throughout the entire episode in all its tense and awkward glory.

I think I want to talk about eyes. Because I just recently rewatched Episode 6, and was losing it all over again at Qian’s complete refusal to make eye contact with Yuan from the moment Yuan says he’s suffering until he returns from the United States. Especially because in Episode 8, he barely makes eye contact with Yuan but for very different reasons.

Bedroom

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Qian wakes up the morning after Yuan’s return to find Yuan sleeping at his side. Now, knowing that Yuan is really only pretending to be asleep, and that he will continue to terrorize Qian throughout the episode, Yuan has positioned himself in such a way that the very first thing Qian has the ability to see when he wakes up is Yuan’s face. In the initial moment of wakefulness, Qian uses this private, quiet moment to study Yuan’s face, after years.

And similarly to the end of Episode 7, we look through Qian’s eyes via close up of Yuan’s face on screen only to hear Yuan say “seen enough?” Which is where we get a very good microexpression from Chris because Qian’s eyes go slightly wider, surprised that Yuan is a) actually awake and b) able to tell that he is Looking. But Qian does not look away.

Yuan opens his eyes, and Qian shifts, lifting his head up slightly as if he’s dialed in…but he is only able to maintain eye contact with Yuan for (literally) 2 seconds, before snapping himself out of it and sitting upright to take himself out of physical line (or plane) with Yuan. But he immediately looks back down at Yuan looking very dazed and at least slightly confused, and from my perspective a lot of that is informed by the fact that Qian is having to adjust to Yuan being back home. But the longest Qian can bear to look at Yuan is approximately 5 seconds.

gif by @thecasualfkfan

Qian, man of few words, tries to cut the thick silence with a caregiving question ‘are you hungry?” cut to the mirror where we see a reflection of only Qian, a jarring site because typically when Qian and Yuan are in the same room, they are framed together. “I’ll take you to the hotpot place,” and Yuan says nothing, so Qian tries to cut the tension again by saying he’ll message San Pang and Xiong.

“No need for the trouble. We can eat at home.” Yuan replies, and it gives Qian pause. Years have passed since he last saw Yuan, Yuan is established in his adulthood, successful, independent, confident, and sure. Qian has not been coping well, and the easy relationship, the familiar dynamic that he once had with Yuan is gone, he has no idea how to exist around Yuan right now. Qian turns his head slowly, to look at Yuan once more, but Yuan is up and out the door, leaving Qian to just stare at the space he left behind for a moment.

We get the second isolated framing of Qian in the mirror as his eyes move from the space by his bed where Yuan sat towards the door that Yuan just walked through.

So what I love about this episode is that Yuan knows his feelings, and I think he has a pretty good understanding of where Qian’s feelings rest now that Qian has called him home. Yuan has a goal, Yuan knows what he wants, the distance has very much helped to calm the storm of feelings that Yuan was having a hard time keeping a handle on when he was younger. Qian on the other hand, has a few more crises to work through before he can feel grounded in his changing feelings for Yuan. Which is what I think we are watching him parse through right before the intro when his eyes follow Yuan out the door and then close accompanied by a deep intake of breath. A moment to process what just happened.

This episode is very aptly titled The Distance Between Us and Love because Yuan is doing nothing but playing with distance. He is being petty, he is pushing buttons, he is- I would claim -essentially edging Qian by getting just close enough to inspire physiological responses in Qian without completely closing the distance.

Dinner

And that distance also includes a demonstration to Qian about how Yuan is capable of maintaining an emotional distance from him now that Yuan’s priorities have changed and he is no longer blindly, overwhelmingly devoted to Qian. And it’s funny in the show because it feels petty, because it is a little petty, but under the surface there is a lot of richness in understanding that Yuan’s position as an adoptee, as a traumatized child, as someone that was saved and probably felt the need to maintain his place, who didn’t have the same level of security in the household as Xiao Bao has had, Yuan has made Qian his number one priority for a significant part of his life, so much so that Qian has fallen right back in to the routine of anticipating being cared for by Yuan upon his return, but it is subject to change. To me, this entire episode reads like Yuan telling Qian “you have the choice not to engage in a relationship with me, but the emotional distance and deprioritization you are experiencing right now will be the new normal, can you bear that?”

gif by @ueasking

Qian walks up to the table and sees a truly impressive layout of food in front of him, and he looks somewhat shocked between the food and Yuan, the food and Yuan. Yuan has always been a helpful person, he has been trying to ease Qian’s burdens his entire life, but he’s an adult now and thus his reciprocated care means actually being able to provide for and support Qian holistically. Yuan walks out of the kitchen with a hangover cure, and Chris performs an inspired bit of improv and reaches for the glass, because Qian has slipped back into a world where someone cares about him first. But like I said, Yuan isn’t acting that way right now.

I love that Qian looks to his right to see if San Pang caught his #awkwardmoment and that is sustained throughout the dinner as Qian keeps stealing glances at Yuan, but looking away before he can have any silent interactions with Yuan at all. My favorite part of this scene is Yuan’s interaction with San Pang who is also absolutely awkward with Yuan. In this scene we get a massive dig from Yuan to both San Pang and Qian, and on the surface it’s petty but if you look in an additional layer, there is so much disrespect behind Yuan’s words.

gif by @ueasking

“San Pang. Thank you. I’ve thought a lot during my time abroad. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have the chance to go to the US and get what I have now. I’m grateful to you. Thank you.”

It is important, in my mind, that the end of this statement is followed with a cut to Qian’s face and not San Pang’s because it wasn’t San Pang that sent Yuan to the US. He was the one who delivered the news for sure, but it was the money Qian had saved over the course of years that sent Yuan abroad. There is soooo much disrespect in this statement because Yuan is ignoring Qian’s contribution to his time abroad and he is telling San Pang, essentially, that anything that happens between Yuan and Qian moving forward is directly because of him.

And now, a commercial break for the funniest scene in the show to date:

Bedroom 2

Here we start with the hands :) Yuan enters Qian’s room and immediately moves behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Qian is mad about San Pang and Lili and he is fully not making eye contact with Yuan, barely even turns in his direction when he enters the room, puts as much distance between himself and Yuan as he can in his room.

“Ge. Have you ever thought that we can’t accept changes because we’re too used to the way things were?”

gif by @ueasking

And we get Qian finally and slowly looking in Yuan’s general direction, Yuan moves to the bed, to Qian’s side and over the course of the conversation Qian looks towards Yuan about three more times, but he never turns completely, he never looks directly. Not even when Yuan calls him “Wei Qian” which was a brilliant fucking move on his part when he’s trying to drive home the point that the nature of people’s relationships to one another can change. Yuan leaves and the camera cuts to him leaving exiting Qian’s room and entering his own and a few seconds later, Qian opens his door, standing in the doorway in a similar fashion to how we saw him at the end of Episode 6 right after Yuan had left the house to go to the States.

At the Computer

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

As time continues, and Qian has not verbalized his own feelings for Yuan, Yuan starts pushing him a little harder. At first there was distance, then touch, and now he is getting bolder, literally getting in Qian’s face when he isn’t paying attention so that Qian is forced to look on in surprise and he’s asking Qian a question with his face so close there is literally no where for Qian to turn to. And Qian responds not only by looking at him, but by scanning his face, eyes flitting down to Yuan’s lips two separate times. Yuan lets the moment hang long enough for Qian to show his uncertainty around what is about to happen (is Yuan going in for a kiss?) before he breaks the tension by asking Qian a business question. But he’s been successful in shaking Qian because Qian looks back at Yuan twice in ten seconds, while Yuan just continues to stare directly at Qian to prevent Qian from stealing glances.

Being Fed

gif by @ueasking

We cut to probably my favorite scene of the episode with Yuan feeding Qian, mostly because Qian has no fucking idea what to do about it. Also because it has absolutely one of my favorite blocking moments when Qian reaches for the bowl in Yuan’s hand at the same time Yuan leans forward to feed him. I love this moment a) because the execution of the motion is so smooth and b) because of the concept of food as love. Qian here is trying to take the food from Yuan while Yuan is reaching out with the spoon to feed Qian his love. Qian takes the proffered bite apprehensively, and then rejects the continued action by taking the bowl from Yuan.

And Yuan as he usually is, spends all his time staring straight at Qian, so that Qian is forced to catch his eye if and when he looks in Yuan’s general direction. Qian is really struggling with his feelings for Yuan this episode so he rushes to finish his food and get the fuck out of dodge. Between each bite he looks to Yuan for just a second before turning his head further and further to the side so as not to catch Yuan in his periphery.

“They say if you like someone, even if you wear a mask you can see it in their eyes” Qian cannot look at Yuan, because Yuan is bleeding his feelings for Qian. Qian cannot look at Yuan because Qian is bleeding his feelings for Yuan. But unfortunately for Qian, it is not just his eyes that give him away. Because he has not reckoned with his new feelings, Qian is incapable of interacting with Yuan without being the most awkward motherfucker alive. Because Yuan is confident in what he wants and Qian is still having to adjust. Qian finishes the food and hands the empty bowl back to Yuan, and just as he is about to remove himself from the situation, Yuan scoops up the very last remnants of the meal and starts to feed it to Qian.

gif by @coffeelover5eva

Qian for just a second jerks his head back, in the same way that he moved his head slightly backwards when he turned to find Yuan staring at him in his bedroom. Much in the same way that he will take a step back later when Yuan moves to fix his collar. But because Qian does have feelings for Yuan and is fighting a losing battle, that instinctual reaction to put some distance between them, to not be cared for, quickly makes way into a deflated submission as he lets Yuan feed him those last little morsels. Yuan walks away as Qian just sits in quiet, annoyed, resignation. Chris’ face throughout this entire scene is just absolutely hysterical.

Yet another commercial break, because I am dying at Yuan being a menace

I do think it is worth noting that Qian’s reaction to this is very similar to his reaction to Yuan saying he liked him in that first attempt where he physically and emotionally disengages, gives him a little pat and tries to remove himself from the situation at hand.

Car

gif by @ueasking

Absolutely the most normal and relaxed Qian has acted around Yuan for this entire episode is in the scene where Lili is bailing on the family trip and he and Yuan are discussing what to do next. Is that little hand stopping the trunk from opening all the way a little desperate? Yeah I think so. But holy shit is it the least tense Qian has been with Yuan in quite some time.

That does not last long though because once they get in the car, Qian sits there expectantly, waiting for the charged sexual tension that would come with Yuan reaching over him to buckle his seat belt. I love this show for giving us the parallel fishing trips, because Yuan originally tried to pull the BL Seatbelt Staple years prior without complete success, Qian does not get the luxury of a second chance to get butterflies in his stomach having Yuan that close. It’s fucking brilliant to have had the buckle before, because it means the audience very clearly knows what Qian is thinking and expecting when he makes no move of his own to buckle up.

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

What I love so much about this moment is that Qian has been trying to avoid these feelings time and time again since Yuan returned. And here we know he’s lost because for the first time in the entire episode he is waiting for Yuan to make a move. He wants Yuan to buckle him in. He can’t say it out loud, it’s embarrassing for him to have Yuan not buckle him in while having Yuan passively calling him out on his expectations.

If Qian’s absolute inability to function with Yuan gone was not enough of an indication that Qian has lost this fight already, this is absolutely the point in which we know Yuan has won. Because after all the avoidance, those split seconds of jumping back, of adding distance, of trying to shorten the time the two of them are alone together, Qian doesn’t bail on the trip and Qian waits for Yuan to make a move.

Fishing

First, it must be acknowledged that under the sunlight, Qian’s hair is very red. In other words. The boy has uke hair.

“When did you get so good at fishing” Qian asks

“When I was abroad I used to go hiking and fishing by myself. I didn’t feel lonely when I imagined you were by my side,” Yuan replies

and Qian furrows his brow slightly because Qian did that too. Not the hiking-and-fishing part, but the curbing the loneliness by imagining-Yuan-was-there part. We can see it in Episode 7 when he smiles and toasts the air at his side with his beer can after Lili and San Pang leave for the Christmas market, and if you didn’t catch that moment the first time (I did not) we get it again in the flashback Qian has, remembering the brightness and the chaos of Lili and Yuan being in the house.

“Ge, do you have something to say?”

“Zhiyuan, don’t keep your feelings for me anymore. Nothing will come of them” Yuan chuckles, which like…valid buddy, cause that is fucking hilarious. Not because Yuan doesn’t have feelings for Qian, but because something will definitely come of them. Because this is Qian’s last attempt at trying to maintain the status quo. Trying to be responsible and keep their feelings for each other at a non-romantic level. But it’s too late, Qian, you’re a goner. Qian looks at Yuan, but only in his peripheral vision, he dares not look at Yuan flat out at this point.

“What makes you think I still have feelings for you?” Qian looks at Yuan immediately after he says that, and not just looks at his face, but down his body, and then out in to his own thoughts.

“Ge, do you remember a long time ago you asked me what I would do if the person I liked got married?”

“You said you’d go crazy”

“My answer’s changed.”

And with that Qian has the sharpest, fastest head turn we’ve seen from him all episode but for the first time in the entire episode, Yuan is not looking a Qian. He is giving Qian the space to look, to think. He tells Qian that he will be happy as long as the person that he likes is happy, and we immediately see this tension release itself from Qian’s forehead. Qian is looking pensive throughout the conversation, and his eyes only move once Yuan moves again that Qian’s eyes follow the motion of the lid. Yuan moves to sit on the container, which places Qian not only below him, but the camera angle shrinks Qian down so he appears even smaller than usual next to Yuan.

Qian looks at Yuan when he sits down

“Wei Qian. Don’t you like Wei Zhiyuan?” Yuan asks, and the moment his question finishes, Qian looks away, because Qian has been incapable of maintaining eye contact where any romantic feelings are involved, but he is actually thinking here. You can see that question weighing heavy on Qian’s mind. And he can’t just run away from it so he closes his eyes and looks away again.

“If you do, is it only because we’re brothers?” and Qian’s jaw tenses considerably as he processes the question. You can see his lip move, you can see the twitching of his cheek as he clenches his teeth. But Yuan is done teasing Qian. Qian has become increasingly more obvious in his reactions to Yuan and now that Yuan has successfully riled Qian up over the past few days and they are alone where they had their first conversation about Yuan’s crush on an unknown boy. @romchat has already pointed out the reverse imagery for the parallel here but Yuan reaches out and clasps Qian’s cheek, the same way that Qian has done for Yuan countless times.

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

When Yuan’s hand first makes contact, Qian looks at it but keeps his eyes trained downward. But the second time that Yuan’s thumb slides gently across his cheek, Qian looks up, looks straight into Yuan’s eyes. He does not tense any further, he does not fight against it, he does not shy away from Yuan’s touch or Yuan’s gaze. (@respectthepetty has a very lovely little breakdown of this scene herself here)

“This thing about us, is it that you don’t want, or you don’t dare?” Yuan asks and we move back to a wide angle shot that closes out the episode with the little title card. But Chris doesn’t stop acting just because there isn’t a close up on his face, oh no. No. Instead Qian’s face relaxes eeeeeever so slightly, and you can see him swallow hard. This is not a question he wants to be faced with because we all know what the answer is, and the answer is that he does want, but doesn’t dare. And the second that his fear of losing Yuan for a second time becomes stronger than his fear of changing their relationship? Game over.

This show is putting so many worms in my brain, I love it so much, and I am so looking forward to episode 9 where I get to see my boys being put through hell at the hands of the gang. Torture my boys! They don’t have enough angst!!

#unknown #unknown the series #unknown episode 8 #unknown the series analysis #unknown the series meta #wka long post #chris chiu #kurt huang #taiwanese bl

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stsgluver · 6 months

Text

summary. instead of spending two weeks in a hot country, you're stuck in a cramped hotel with your boyfriend.

wc. 1.3k

tags. richly!gojo au, fluff, slightly suggestive themes but not really you've got to squint hard, swearing once

series masterlist

“i’m literally dying,” gojo whined, falling back dramatically onto the double bed in the room.

you shot him a glare from where you sat on the floor, searching through your suitcase for ibuprofen which you had grabbed in the airport’s pharmacy to help with the searing headache you had. despite his tendency to have migraines that could leave him bedridden for days, gojo had decided not to bring any painkillers just in case and that was just one of many reasons you might be killing him before the fortnight is over. “if you complain one more time you will be dead.”

you were meant to be going on a two week, all inclusive holiday with your darling boyfriend and his mega rich family in a hot foreign country, the worries of college pushed far to the back of your mind for fourteen days of pure bliss.

but fate clearly didn’t think you’d earnt such restbite as upon arrival and taking the mandatory test, both you and gojo had tested positive for covid-19. the light sniffles he had put down to hayfever and the headache you’d assumed was just what came with having gojo satoru as a boyfriend, were in fact symptoms of the illness you both had.

so now here you were: isolating in a small hotel room until your isolation period was up, or you both tested negative. it was sparsely decorated – a double bed in the centre of the room and a television opposite. there was a small open wardrobe where gojo had dumped his suitcase and an ensuite that would just about fit your lanky boyfriend. although not the best, there was some air conditioning as well which made the stifling heat just a little bit more bearable.

the staff had given you a specific number to call if either of your symptoms got worse and food would be brought to you at specific times everyday (not like the usual room service gojo was used to where he’d order banquets of food at stupid times in the morning). there were also the morning tests that you now had to do daily which left you pathetically sneezing afterwards. all in all, nothing that you had expected for your get away.

after finally finding the medication, you quickly swallowed two pills down with a sip of water. the sooner they could kick in and actually do something to help ease your discomfort, the better.

crawling onto the double bed, gojo welcomed you with open arms and you gratefully curled into his side, throwing one of your legs over him. yes, it was boiling and yes, you were mildly irritated with your boyfriend, but you were also in pain and, for all his flaws (which he denied having any), nothing could top being held close by him. the two of you were clingy with each other at the best of times – being ill and feeling sorry for yourselves only made you both worse.

“pass me the remote,” you patted the space next to gojo blindly, too lazy to lift your head to actually search for it. it had now been almost an hour of you two cuddled up on the bed, and for the last thirty minutes gojo had been rewatching the same show over and over. whilst you headache had marginally subsided, listening to the same crappy show was only driving you insane.

“no, i like this show,” gojo whined, swatting your hand away.

“satoru,” you dragged out, muffled as you pressed your face further into his top, “you’ve watched this episode three times, you don’t need to watch it again.”

gojo hummed thoughtfully, running his hands through your hair. it was enough to make you fall asleep if you weren’t careful. “yes i do.”

“why?” you rested your chin on his chest, meeting the gaze of his bright blue eyes that sparkled as they looked down at you.

“because i’m ill.” he coughed twice for affect, sounding as pathetic as ever as he ‘checked’ himself for a fever too.

you narrowed your eyes at him before pinching his side, causing him to let out a small yelp. “who’s fault is that?”

“covid’s.”

“no. yours,” you said pointedly, a little more alert as you relayed all the reasons why it was in fact gojo’s fault that you both had contracted this illness. “i said don’t go to geto’s party, we’re about to go on a very expensive holiday. you said but baby please please please-” you huffed, rolling back onto your back next to him defiantly. “so i gave in, as per, and now we’re–”

gojo brought his other hand to messily pat the top of your head, coaxing you to turn to face him. “i love it when you’re mad,” he was wearing a shit-eating grin that only widened when you blankly stared back at him – your annoyance radiating off of you in waves more powerful than the ones you could’ve been enjoying on the sun-ridden beach. “you’re so sexy.”

“you’re corny. and annoying,” you sat yourself up as you held out your hand, lifting a finger with each complaint, “and stupidly tall, and a pain in my ass… and i feel like you’re not even listening.”

gojo crossed his arms behind his head as he condescendingly nodded along, gazing up at you with a lopsided smile. his top had risen up ever so slightly to expose a sliver of his abs and you hated how attractive he looked when all you wanted to do was throttle him for his childish behaviour.

“oh i’m listening baby,” he encouraged with a teasing tone, tracing small patterns on the exposed skin of your leg. “go on.” there was a fire in his wake, one that no hot weather could ever compare to, not even covid had this much of an affect on you.

“i don’t think i want to anymore,” you mumbled arms crossed as you slowly lay back down and avoided his eyes, trying not to give him any indication that you were a complete fool for his touch (like your sudden bashfulness wasn’t completely giving you away).

gojo was slow with his movements, thoughtful as he dragged his hand up along your thigh, grazing your hips, giving your waist a light squeeze as he traced the outline of your body. your breath was caught in your throat as you allowed him to do as he pleased, all previous grievances forgiven as you watched entranced. gradually, he closed the gap that you had created, shifting his body until he straddled you, holding his body up by resting on his forearms either side of your head.

gojo dipped his head down, lips milimetres from your own that you would barely even need to lift your head from the pillow to touch. his voice was an octave deeper as he spoke. “shame, i was just starting to–”

and then he fell into a fit of very loud and very barky and very not sexy coughs. he didn’t even give you the decency of trying to limit the spread of his germs and buried his head into the crook of your neck once his coughs were over.

“mood fucking ruined,” you hit his shoulder lightly and he babbled something that was completely muffled and only tickled as his lips brushed your skin. “please let me at least change the channel so i die from this illness and not insanity.”

gojo lifted his head up ever so slightly, just enough so that he could peck the corner of your lips and point to the spot next to you. “i slipped the remote under my pillow. tv’s all yours baby.”

a/n. I think this is like the first thing ive posted in almost a month. I MISS YOU GUYS xxx

taglist. @jar-03 @animeflower26 @hyori2

#— toru!!#satoru #gojo drabbles #gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojou satoru #rich boy!gojo

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demodraws0606 · 3 months

Text

What Cyberpunk DeadBoy Means and What it's Potentially Foreshadowing (aka very complicated analysis that makes a lot of sense and could happen depending on how colorpalet is feeling while writing the story)

Now I'm seeing so many people like running around wondering what this event could mean for the future for multiple reasons and like I've made like one post throwing my hat into the ring.

I've been frustrated with people's unwillingness to realise that this comm is prob foreshadowing because this is not the first time Colorpalet has hidden foreshadowing into comms weither subtely or not

Exemple's being :

-Akito's second comm foreshadowing his third event

-Lower's cover art literally foreshadowing what would happen to Mafuyu's phone in her event

-88 vocals being emurui and nenekasa foreshadowing the kind of dynamic the disbandement arc had with nenekasa wanting to move forward with emurui being scared of isolation

-Probably way better exemples that I forgot

I've seen people make Some assumptions which I don't agree with but there is one thing I think is true

There is 100 pourcent gonna be struggle between corporation/reality and WxS.

Purely because that's been WxS's entire theme since the beginning. They constantly bash you over the head with the theme of compromising with reality and the importance of dreams. In fact the pick of Maiki-P is not at all surprising as he basically has the same message WxS has just... well harsher.

The Big thing people have ignored however is by focusing on the lyrics, they've ignored something that's personally to me even more telling and that's the line distribution

We know for a fact colorpalet loves to mess around with line distribution, weither it's to make characters say lines that fit them or to kind of foreshadow their headspace.

Now something Big happens with the line distribution of Cyberpunk Deadboy that i've seen NO ONE notice and that's in the last chorus (that and also Tsukasa's lines which people have pointed out but it works less on it's own which is why I'm gonna analyse his lines afterwards).

This is the only time the chorus is like that, the others have a much more even distribution.

In fact the distribution choice makes it look like the rest of WxS is Talking to Rui.

It's even more evident considering the lines they chose to make WxS sing compared to only just Rui

Emu/Tsukasa/Nene saying kimi (you)

Rui saying boku (i)

Which honestly makes me think this is colorpalet foreshadowing some kind of issue reguarding specifically Rui. Remember Emu's second event ? The story of Rilley whose imagination was crippled by the industry to the point where he didn't really have any artistic vision until Emu's grandpa helped him.

In fact remember how the flashback that showcases that has Rilley working on a film

Now we get to Tsukasa's line which have been pointed out to be kind of sus but it's not just his lines.

Tsukasa refuses to sing with Rui (unless it's a line they all sing together but i consider those exceptions). In fact pretty much everyone has a duo line with each other except those two.

In fact in the section where Rui has duo lines with everybody, Tsukasa is the only one he doesnt sing with and the visuals make it clear that it's something that we're supposed to find strange

And then we of course have Tsukasa's solo lines

Tsukasa is the only one that say "fuzakeruna" outside of Rui (of course ignoring entire group WxS lines) and i've seen some people pointed out how it sounds like he's saying it in response to Rui's lines. Which I agree with.

Then we got his big boy solo lines

These lines will make more sense with my theory/analysis but right now if we go with the idea that WxS in the last chorus were speaking to Rui and Tsukasa in this comm refuses to sing with Rui then this implies those lines are Tsukasa speaking to Rui.

And this is where the insanity begins because people have pointed out a concerning trend with Ruikasa that I know some people use for shipping fuel but for me kinda feels more so like foreshadowing.

IGNORING all the ARG ass weirdness of the Fixer 2dmv, this choice to switch Ruikasa's colors have to mean something in my opinion outside of just wholesome shipping influence especially considering the two songs they do this are less than jovial.

What this kind of color switching signifies to me is that, Ruikasa somehow are/or will switch places.

And with that let me bring back Tsukasa's lines

These lines stand out because Tsukasa before remembering his dreams was extremely shallow only doing things for fame and probably the money that would come with it.

Now if you think about everything I've layed out I think you can gain a pretty clear picture.

Of Rui falling into the trap Rilley did, becoming jaded and losing the true motivation of his dream (or at least starting to have doubts). Becoming stuck with the struggle of managing dreams and reality.

Rui's costume even has a mask which can be a metaphor for his artistic voice and individuality being silenced .

Which now you get into the line distribution where WxS is implied to be talking to Rui.

And you get to Tsukasa, who is refusing to sing with Rui and in fact seems to be arguing with Rui if we really want to overthink it. In fact almost switching their roles from the main story.

Because Tsukasa has grown now and how else to show that growth than to switch Rui and Tsukasa's perspectives/roles.

Now how this would happen really depends since there are multiple ways they can go about it with the time they have.

There is obviously mystery dude dude (who i know now is sakaki) who still gives me bad vibes. However there is actually two way they can make mystery dude trigger this sort of plot :

-Mystery dude is malicious and actively manipulates/confronts Rui to make him rethink his worldview

-Mystery dude isn't malicious but instead is just jaded/has been through a lot of industry bullshit which ends up rubbing off on Rui accidentally

But you can even just not have mystery dude involved with this at all (which i doubt but still) because you know what loose plotpoint is still lingering over WxS, fucking Asahi

Rui still has not talked about Asahi to WxS, in fact Curtain Call ends on an explicit cliffhanger which is never really emotionally concluded (at least in Rui's own events, technically the arc ender did but there are still a lot of loose threads from that arc). Why would Colorpalet make Asahi come back after Rui graduates, they could've just had him disappear into the sunset but instead they hint at his potential comeback.

Unless Rui will be forced to again confront similar feelings he did during Curtain Call this time with possibly an added layer of whatever happens during WxS's freelance arc.

Anyways yeah this is overly complicated but then again colorpalet is not being easy with us so...yeah.

#project sekai #pjsk rui #rui kamishiro #wxs #wonderlandxshowtime #project sekai theory #project sekai analysis #rui kamishiro analysis #wxs rui #wxs tsukasa #tsukasa tenma #rui #cyberpunk deadboy #i'm sorry if this giant wall of text makes sense to nobody but me but i need this to leave myt mind otherwise i explode #and also i'm not looking at twitter for theories of this event because twitter is the breeding ground of bad takes so idk if i'm the only #one but it's very interesting #anyways i really don't want any “but what if the comm is not at all related to the event at all” because we've had active confirmation #colorpalet describe events and give at least on sentence prompts to commissioners (which we know pinnochioP and the creators of Mr.Showtime #I believe) and again even if it WERE the case and it was a fluke or a rewrite or whatever #it doesnt change the fact colorpalet made an active choice to make the line distribution and 2dmv like this #this is the motherfuckers that foreshadowed an arc ender years before through a fucking song cover art #complain about their writing all you want these motherfuckers love little detail oriented shit like this for better and for worse

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sserasin · 19 days

Note

thinking abt toxic ex bf!yeonjun….

toxic ex!yeonjun

cw nsfw under cut, noncon, dubcon, female reader, jealousy, degrading names, brief mention of revenge porn, manipulation, dacryphilia, fingering (reader receiving)

toxic ex!yeonjun is so much worse than a toxic fwb!yeonjun cause he’s already had a taste of you, and he’s quite literally obsessed.

ex!yeonjun who can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else, and he knows he should let it go. but he loves you too damn much.

ex!yeonjun who gets pissed and jealous no matter who you’re talking to. it could be your best friend for years and he’d send you a stupid ass text talking about how you were moving on too fast, that you were a dirty whore who was good for nothing other than being a cumdump.

ex!yeonjun who retaliates by sending the nudes you sent him to his friends, his teammates, spreading them across school. it lowers your reputation and thus, getting rid of a lot of competition for him. but then he ends up regretting it because now his teammates are talking about how hot your body is and how easy it would be to fuck you.

ex!yeonjun ex!yeonjun was a perfect boyfriend, and he’s an even better manipulator. he lies and tells you that his icloud was hacked. and you, so desperate to cling to anyone you have left, stupidly believe him.

ex!yeonjun who soothes your cries, holding you in his arms and wipes your tears away. but he’s always had a thing for making you cry, and even out of sex, you’re just so goddamn beautiful crying— he can’t help that his cock hardens at the sight of the tears.

ex!yeonjun who whispers promises of making you feel better, showing you that you don’t deserve those scum sending you anonymous hate messages, as his lips trail down your neck and to your cleavage.

ex!yeonjun sneaks a hand in your pants, collecting your juices with his fingers before mercilessly pushing two of his fingers on, muffling your gasp with his mouth. “just, be a good girl for me,” yeonjun murmurs. the painful intrusion of his fingers lessen as he quickly finds your g-spot, ramming his fingers into the spot and curling them.

ex!yeonjun whose lips curl into a brief wicked smile as he watches you pant from your orgasm, licking his fingers clean. your fingers curl around his wrist, stopping him from moving (as if he was going to) and look up at him with wet eyelashes and pretty eyes, “i want more.”

ex!yeonjun who pushes you down on your bed, pulling your pants off fully, saying, “yeah? you always just want more and more, huh?” his words don’t exactly make sense, but your brain is too fogged over with sex, sex, and sex that you don’t care. you just want whatever he can give you. “i’ll give you what you want,” he only pulls his cock out, sliding it through your folds teasingly.

ex!yeonjun who grins when you beg, raising a hand to your neck to hold you there, “say you love me.” you blink, saying it without hesitation. “good girl,” he presses all of himself in you, cutting off your moan. he hisses, “fu—fuck, you’re such a good— hole. always so tight for me.”

ex!yeonjun who demands to know who else you’ve fucked or had any bit of a situationship with while you were broken up in the middle of sex. “what was his na— fuck, name?” “how far did you go?” and when you question him, “because it fuckin’ matters. tell me.” only gives you an orgasm when you agree to block the person, and definitely watches you block them after you’ve finished.

ex!yeonjun who doesn’t stop there, isolating you from your remaining friends and family. tells you lies about them, that they’ve been talking about you behind your back. convinces you not to confront them and simply block and ignore. they don’t deserve your time. somehow always leads up to sex, or he’s saying that shit during sex ‘cause he knows that’s when you’re most compliant— split on his cock.

ex!yeonjun will probably never reveal his true colors until you somehow find out— but he won’t let that happen. he’s got you wrapped around his finger, with no one to turn to.

#cw dubcon #cw noncon #yeonjun.txt #txt.txt #writing.txt #yeonjun smut #choi yeonjun smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt imagines

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edelgarfield · 4 months

Text

gods i haven't seen this parallel drawn before but it is something that drives me insane

everyone knows gortash was sold to raphael by his parents and one can only imagine the awful things he went through. and like i don't think it's too far of a stretch to think that abuse plays a heavy role in what led him to bane, how do you avoid being owned and used for other people's gain? by being the one with all the power and bringing them under your heel.

which is the exact same logic that drives astarion towards ascension. hells, the rite is a contract with mephistopheles, raphael's DAD.

imo gortash is a glimpse of exactly what lies in ascended astarion's future. he's the most powerful man in baldur's gate but he's completely alone. he's sold out and alienated every single person that ever cared about him, his power is the very thing that keeps him from ever being able to trust anyone else, all his allies are transactional and based on mutual gain, and one slip up means a knife in his back. durge, seemingly the one person he genuinely cared about, was taken from him because of the power they held. their affection for him put a target on both of their backs. he had all the power he could ever want and it did nothing to save the person he cared about most.

by the time you meet him, he is far far far too gone imo. i'm not even sure whether he cares about how isolated he is, or if he sees it for the weakness it is. if there was ever a time to convince him to choose another path, it is long gone, now he's too entrenched in his own schemes, that even if he WANTED to change (unlikely), it would spell his death.

if you don't ally with him, his isolation is the very thing that kills him; he believes he has no need of flesh and blood allies bc he has an army of tin soldiers to keep him safe. but once you take out the steel watch he's practically defenseless. he's the most powerful man in Baldur's gate, but you can literally just stroll up to his office and kill him on his own turf and no one comes to his aid. if you do ally with him, it's his ambition that puts the final nail in his coffin, his means to dominate the world turns on him and spells his doom.

and this is exactly what we begin to see happen with ascended astarion. his obsession with power and need for control makes him turn a genuine partnership based on love & mutual respect into one based on control. from party banter, we see pretty much all the companions immediately turn on him. these are people who genuinely cared for him & fought for his freedom, but after watching him ascend they wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire. and he doesn't even care! he's so entrenched in his own misanthropic worldview that he only sees the power he's gained & not everything it cost him. the cost of ascension isnt just 7000 souls, it's 7000 souls and the love of every single person who could have ever cared for him.

if astarion ascends how long until he bites off more than he can handle? how long until his enemies realize the best way to get to him is through you? how long until all his allies turn on him? (if you choose to control the absolute, the answer is somewhere between a few days and a few weeks). all the power in the world can't protect you from your own hubris and astarion has it in spades.

whether you view durgetash & durgestarion platonically or romantically I see it as two opposing narratives held together with Durge as the lynchpin. durgetash is abt being doomed by that narrative, two people who genuinely cared for each other but were the wrong people at the wrong time to save either of them. had they met earlier, if one of them had been slightly less entrenched in their roles, perhaps they could have been saved, they could have lived and had something real.

& durgestarion is the opposite, had they met any earlier, they would have brought each other to ruin. two doomed people, once beyond saving, meeting at the perfect time and finding the strength in each other to break their chains, to choose a path for themselves. where before durge failed to save gortash (& every person they ever cared for) they can save astarion now (& all their other companions).

& the real tragedy is by the very constraints of the narrative, you cannot save them both. if durgetash hasn't been the people they were, Astarion would never have his chance at freedom, he would've been consumed in cazador's ritual with no one to mourn him. but in order to orchestrate the events that allow astarion his chance at freedom, gortash is long past the point of no return. it takes MULTIPLE extremely unlikely events and literal divine intervention to free Durge from Bhaal's clutches. The chance of the same happening for Gortash is infinitesimally small.

it's abt the cruelty and chaos of the world, how fate, destiny, and chance intersect to either bind us or set us free. it's abt second chances, walking through the ruins of your past mistakes & choosing to build something from the rubble, it's abt how love & loss are two sides of the same coin, how sometimes the only choice available is to love, & that love won't save you, but it's there and it leaves its mark.

thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #enver gortash #durgestarion #durgetash #bg3 spoilers

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gaypiratepropaganda · 4 months

Text

Izzy's apology in the finale seems to have taken some people by surprise. During the break between seasons, I tried a few times to politely bring up the fact that Izzy was technically abusing Ed. Not because I wanted anyone to stop liking him (you can like a character who's doing abuse! it's not real. who cares), but because I was worried about the reaction when season two came out. I love this show very much and I know how tumblr can get. Most importantly, I love fucked up fictional relationships and cannot abide people making these two boring. So here we go. (I also love lists)

First. Emotional abuse can occur in intimate relationships, family relationships like father and son, or in the workplace (Ed/Izzy triple threat!). Second, it has to be an ongoing thing. Someone doing one of these things once is not abuse. Abuse is a pattern of cruel and frightening behavior in order to control the victim.

(Don't feel bad if you didn't notice this stuff! It's relatively subtle and we're kind of trained to ignore and forgive it, especially from characters like Izzy. I wasn't 100% sure I was right about this either until season two confirmed it. I think a lot of people don't even know what emotional abuse is, at least where I live.)

Below are some pretty solid warning signs (this said "criteria" before but I changed it to be more accurate) for emotional abuse, followed by examples:

•Monitoring and controlling a person’s behavior, such as who they spend time with or how they spend money.

One of Izzy's main motivations in season one was trying to force Ed to act more like his image of Blackbeard. To achieve that, he bullied, belittled, and threatened Ed. He attempted to kill Stede because Ed was spending too much time with him and he felt that Stede was a bad influence.

• Threats to a person’s safety, property, or loved ones

He tried to kill Stede (Ed's loved one) or get him killed several times. Once trying to get Ed to do it himself with the doggy heaven situation, once directly with the duel, and once by calling in the navy.

He didn't directly threaten Ed's safety until episode ten, but he did seem to have Ed convinced that the crew would kill him if Izzy wasn't there to protect him and then when Ed did things he didn't like, Izzy threatened to leave. It's indirect, but has the same result: Ed felt he was unsafe unless he did what Izzy wanted.

• Isolating a person from family, friends, and acquaintances

Izzy seemed to keep Ed isolated from the crew, act as a go-between, and control their perceptions of each other to a certain extent. In the first few episodes, Ed was always shown alone in his goth cabin with Izzy as his only contact. When he started to make new friends Izzy tried to make him kill them.

After Izzy was banished, he secretly sent Ed's ex in to manipulate him and get him away from his new community. Then he got them all arrested, culminating in the deal he made with the English that would have made Ed his prisoner. Not sure that was on purpose, but it was so fucked up I had to mention it.

The bit that really got me, for some reason, was when Frenchie asked after Ed and Izzy told the crew he was sick.

• Demeaning, shaming, or humiliating a person

Izzy is often shown berating Ed and yelling at him. The way Ed reacts suggests to me that he may be used to this kind of treatment from people in general, or from Izzy in particular. He never leaves or asks him to stop, he just takes it.

• Extreme jealousy, accusations, and paranoia

He was so jealous of Ed's relationship with Stede that he got the literal military involved. His explanation to for why Ed enjoys spending time with Stede was that he has "done something to [Ed's] brain." Like, what magic powers do you think he has, Izzy?

• Making acceptance or care conditional on a person’s choices

Izzy made it very clear that he would only support Ed if he conformed to the Blackbeard persona. He also seemed to have Ed convinced that there was no way he could survive without Izzy's support.

I just realized that if you subscribe to the headcanon that Izzy acts as a sort of caretaker to Ed (I do not) then all of this is way more fucked up.

• Constant criticism, ridicule, or teasing.

In season one he criticized everything Ed did, all his plans, even while telling him to come up with more plans. He ridiculed Ed and called him names pretty often: "twat, namby-pamby, insane." Even in season two when he's doing better, most of their interactions consist of Izzy teasing and making fun of Ed for being mopey or in love.

• Refusing to allow a person to spend time alone

I didn't think of this until now, but Izzy is often around when Ed thinks he's alone. He knows about things that happen in scenes he isn't in. Izzy's always sort of lurking, though? And he does it to everyone. So I'm not sure if we should count this one.

• Thwarting a person’s professional or personal goals

He's ok about piracy related goals, but as soon as Ed tried to do something other than that he got so weird about it. "This crew is so talented, why are we even being pirates?" is what got Izzy to threaten Ed. Which is interesting because he was fine with the retirement idea before, when he thought he'd get to be captain.

• Instilling feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness

"insane unpleasant shell of a man merely posing as blackbeard." "I should have let the English kill you. This... whatever it is you've become is a fate worse than death."

• Gaslighting: making a person question their competence and even their basic perceptual experiences.

He called Ed insane and implied that the crew would mutiny if he wasn't there to stop them. This is clearly untrue, as we were already shown that his method of "massaging the crew" consisted of calling Ed half insane and pulling Fang's beard even though Fang hates that. The fact that he calls Ed insane more than once while at the same time trying to get him to act more insane seems like basic gaslighting to me. Then again, Izzy's definition of "insanity" may be like, depression, crying, showing emotions, loneliness, and enjoying softness.

[can't find a gif of this so just imagine Ed in the gravy basket with Hornigold saying "you're worried you're insane."]

Something that wasn't on this specific list but is generally considered part of emotional abuse is manipulation: the use of indirect tactics to change someone's thoughts, feelings, or behaviors in an attempt to influence them for personal gain.

I think Izzy often tries to be manipulative. He's not the greatest at it, but it's the thought that counts. He manages to be surprisingly successful through persistence and repetition.

He's got Ed convinced from the first time we see them that he is useless as a captain without Izzy. That's why Ed feels like he needs him. He tells him that the only thing standing between Ed and a crew constantly on the brink of mutiny is Izzy. Then he tells him that he will leave if he can't live up to his expectations.

He has a pattern of lying to Ed or not telling him the whole truth. He threatens him directly and indirectly in an attempt to influence him and control his behavior. He wants power, whether he gets it by becoming a captain when Ed retires or by making sure Ed remains powerful by any means necessary.

this is what he was apologizing for, along with the years of being terrible to Ed before Stede came into the picture. I never expected him to admit it so clearly like that. He fed Ed's "darkness," poked at his trauma for so long because he needed Blackbeard. It was something they did together, and he enjoyed Blackbeard's dominance and cruelty.

Of course there are other things that can be part of this kind of abuse, like infantilization, silence, and harassment. There are more examples of abusive behavior from Izzy at the start of season two, especially in the scene where Ed's asking Izzy to kill him. but I am not ready to get into that right now.

Anyway, Ed and Izzy's storylines in season two only make sense to me with this in mind. Ed is recovering from not only the suicide attempts but also this fucked up situation he was in, whether he realizes it or not. Izzy learns to stop being such a shitboy and admits he was wrong. ~growth~

if you interpret their relationship differently that's obviously fine. but I think this is the most interesting interpretation, as well as what was intended. It's no fun for me when people make them both equally awful to each other. I like it better as it is in the show: Ed fighting back against Izzy's emotional abuse with physical violence, which only ends up traumatizing him further. It's such a unique and fascinating story.

#our flag means death #Ed Teach #izzy hands #ed/izzy #blackbeard #ed/stede #tw abuse #abuse cw #@piratecaptainscaptainpirates #I should have posted this a long time ago but #I was kind of afraid you guys would kill me lmao #I think we're good now #we can talk about this #if you think of anything else I'll add it #one more thing I didn't know how to fit in here #is the way Izzy really wants Ed to be violent #to other people but also to him #when Ed doesn't want to do that #and is specifically triggered by being violent #also the first thing that really made me go #hey wait a minute #about Izzy was when he apologized to Ed for calling him a 'shell of a man' while he was 'leaving'#Ed said 'no. you were right. about all of it.'#and then Izzy immediately went back to being a dick to him two episodes later #reminds me so much of what one of my friends went through #wow this is so long

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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 months

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Was Minotaur!Konig the one to say "I love you" first? Or did he only say it after hearing his beloved say it first? My first thought was that he would say it super fast because he's so straightforward and always says what's on his mind...but then I thought about how she might have had to say it first if his insecurities made him afraid to say it despite his typical frankness, out of fear that she wouldn't say it back... but then I thought about how whipped he is for her and how he has never been shy about what he feels for her... and THEN I thought about how he night not say it first because he's literally never heard those 3 words together before because of the cruel household he grew up in + his time isolated in the labyrinth and how he might not even know that's something people say to each other....and THEN I thought-(cuts self off before I ramble in your inbox any further)

Idk! Your Minotaur!Konig is so fascinating that I keep going back and forth, so I humbly come to you for the answer 🤓

Love your work! I get excited every time I see a new post :)

This is so cute gahh! I'm sorry for being super annoying about this but the history nerd in me started to actually think about this, and... I'm not sure if either of these pookies would say "I love you" because romantic, erotic, platonic, and/or other forms of love didn’t exist in the language the same way they do in our times? Like, if someone knows more about this please correct me, but I’m under the impression that these people would express their love and dedication in other ways.

He might say “I would kill Hades himself to get you back from the dead,” for example, or “I would suffer years of famine if only I could suffer it with you” etc. And even then our poor big Minotaur would have to possess socialized norms & knowledge of these things, what to say to a woman to let her know he absolutely worships her. And “love” between a man and a woman wasn’t considered quite as ideal as love and companionship between men, so these two will receive odd stares wherever they go for being so open about their affection and dedication to each other. Like, have the gods cursed these two with soft heads? 🤨 Why are they acting like children?

König of course, the social outcast as he is, doesn’t give a fuck about what other people think. He will follow her like a barely tamed animal instead of the stoic head of the household he’s supposed to be, compliments and praises her until she has to shut his mouth with food, says “I am your slave” and thinks it’s perfectly normal to talk like that.

So yeah, I don’t see them handing out love confessions after copulating exceptionally softly one night, but Minotaur!König will give a speech about how he will hang her image in the stars so that she’ll never die, mocks the gods in order to show that he values her (*gasp* a mortal woman!) above them. She will try to shush and scold him for bringing bad luck on them for speaking such things, then calls him her silly bull and kisses him until his toes curl ❤️✨️

#minotaur!könig #these two need to get a room

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candyskiez · 27 days

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Thinking about ???%/Shigeo as a character today and losing my mind. Like he's so funny to joke about but also he's SUCH an interesting character (especially from a plural angle, ESPECIALLY when you're a system yourself) and he makes me want to explode. Imagine forming to protect a little kid and deciding you love him so so much and you'll always be there for him, and you love his little brother, and you love his best friend, even though the world doesn't love you very much. But you take it anyway because you have those three and your little family so you're happy. And you have powers and they're a part of you and the other kid and it's fine until it very suddenly Isn't, and nobody's explaining why, just that you need to Stop Having Them. And the kid just decides, okay, I'm sorry, I'll be normal. And you get no explanation. You just have to be suppressed that little bit more. You form because he can't handle being suppressed yet he suppresses you. And then one day it all blows up and you make a mistake trying to protect your little brother and suddenly everyone hates you. Everyone thinks every little thing you've ever done is proof you're a monster and you always would've turned out like this, and you have no idea what they're talking about. You made a mistake trying to save your brother. But because you look scary and act different, even though you've always been there suddenly you existing is dangerous. Because you made a mistake, you are now Irredeemable.

That would fuck ANY kid up. But like, think about it. Shigeo had no one except Tsumobi and Mob and Mob's family. And suddenly he has no one. Mob represses him so deeply. He makes one mistake and suddenly he's not allowed to talk to anyone, suddenly he's completely alone and isolated. He has to share a brain with someone who despises him. He has the trauma of the accident AND the trauma of suddenly losing everyone he loves on top of it. He literally had no one for years. No wonder he's so fucking cynical. All of the shit about "I don't trust anyone" in the manga? Yeah, of course he doesn't. The rug was pulled out from under him so fast. In his eyes everyone just hated him for no reason, because he existed, and everyone would hurt him for existing, so he could only trust himself. Yeah, no wonder he's so selfish, he has no one else there at ALL. It's just...holyyyy hell.

And the thing is if you actually look the little things point to him yearning for connection so desperately. He's still so aggressively protective of his family (even though he lost them a long time ago, they're Mob's now, they don't even know he's there. Don't get me started on that from a plural view. I won't shut up and will probably pour my heart out.), and just ...world domination arc. When he's so upset about losing his family. We know he doesn't trust Reigen. Yet he's running to Reigen for some sort of comfort because he's scared and doesn't want his family to die and wants someone to tell him everything's fine. And Reigen DOES and he believes him. He believes him and immediately passes out. The guy who doesn't trust anyone wants to be loved so so bad and wants to believe Reigen more than anything. He really clearly WANTS to be able to trust Reigen. But he can't. More on this later.

And also thinking about why the build up in confession arc broke him like that is just fucking sad, man. Everyone was telling them to change. Shigeo's been told to change and it meant "be normal". Mob isn't even the one who actually likes Tsumobi like that. Shigeo's being completely repressed and Mob wants to live without him completely. Everyone wants to live without him now that they've used his powers to get this nice perfect life (in his eyes, at least.) Everyone's just trying to forget he ever existed so they can be happy without him, when Shigeo never GOT to heal. He never got to move on. He never got to process any of the god awful shit that happened to him. Everyone's telling him, change. Be normal. Be normal so Tsumobi will like you. And Shigeo's so fucking stressed out of his mind because lying about who he is didn't even help Mob make friends, it didn't make him popular, it didn't make anyone like him, it just made them both miserable. He doesn't want to be stuck like this. Of course he's freaking out. We see in his encounter with the body improvement club that being told to go back to normal sets him off HARD. It's clearly a sensitive subject. "Normal" means "Don't exist" to Shigeo. Do you see why this fucked me up as a system yet. Oh my god.

And his breakdown is just...painfully understandable. Like, actually think about it for a second. Shigeo has never been shown forgiveness or compassion or any amount of understanding for his mistakes. He never was taught to mature or see any nuance. He fucked up, so he doesn't deserve any second chance. Nobody ever taught him compassion. He has such a completely black and white view of the world. If someone did something bad once, they are forever The Bad Thing. If someone was kind to him once, they are forever Good and Perfect. Teru was a threat once, so he is now Always A Threat. Reigen was a liar before so he is Always A Liar. Ritsu was sweet and kind as a kid so he is always His Innocent Little Brother. And Tsumobi accepted him as a kid, so now she's the only person who could ever possibly accept him. Teru sees Shigeo at his most terrifying, when he's actively hunting him down, and in the manga looks at him with fucking hearts in his eyes. Ritsu might not be all perfect, but he's trying so hard and understanding no, Shigeo isn't just a scary part of Mob. Shigeo isn't Evil. But because neither of their acceptance is perfect, and because they aren't from Tsumobi, he can't see it's even there. And also, another thing, his response to people acting outside of his perception of him is to get them away. It scares him. Teru isn't acting how he expected? Attack maim. Ritsu isn't afraid of him anymore? Teleport him away so he doesn't have to confront the change. Reigen acts different? Throw shit at him until he hates him.

It's just so...fuck man. Of course he's like that. He's immature and selfish because nobody taught him not to be. Nobody helped this kid when he needed it and this is the result. He thinks he's an irredeemable monster so he acts like one when he's told to just be himself. He doesn't see change as being realistic. He's been treated the same no matter what he does so he assumes this is how the world naturally is. He's just a bitter mentally ill kid who nobody gave any reason to believe that maybe the world is nice sometimes.

Another thing: I think he really really wants Reigen to care about him. Him going "I can't listen to him" is so intense with the context of the fact he immediately passes out to rest and let Mob take care of it once Reigen says his parents are safe. Reigen can convince him like nobody else can. He cares about him and wants to believe him and that's terrifying! He hates him and resents him and wants him to be proud of him and wants nothing to do with him and it's confusing and he just wants something that is (supposedly) guaranteed. He wants Reigen to care so badly and it feels impossible. Why would he ever care? He just wants to use him. The only way to bring Shigeo back from his breakdown was to show him that people can be kind without wanting something back in return. Reigen saying "you don't need me anymore" was the only real way to help him, to show him that he's not doing this for himself, but because he cares about his student(s). Because he cares about BOTH of them. He cares about every version he's seen and interacted with, not because of his powers but because they were them. He had to let go of them to truly help them here, so Shigeo wouldn't have any lingering fear. What helps Shigeo is the display of kindness with nothing to be gained and Mob finally realizing that Shigeo's just...flawed. They both realize that sometimes people are just flawed and fucked up and make bad decisions and just straight up hurt people. And they'll still love you. They'll still be worth saving. But you can't deny their flaws, for Mob, and you don't need to seek the perfect relationship to have someone there, for Shigeo. It just. Agh! God! I am always losing my mind over this story. Fuck. This SHOW .

#mp100 spoilers #mp100 #unknown percentage mp100 #shigeo kageyama #kageyama shigeo #also like. the thing of “hey man you dont need a romantic relationship to be happy” is everything to me“ too #“its fine to not have a romantic relationship. its not the end all be all” is gery appreciated #the whole system loves shigeo. this show genuinely helped us so mucj and.helped me understand myself #and thinking about the finale makes me cry #like i was tearing up so many times writing this post. help.#plural mob

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rockstvrdotcom · 11 months

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❁ // YANDERE! EYELESS JACK SFW + NSFW HCS

synopsis: ej is sosososoosoososooo inlove with you— literally fell for u the second he saw u and he knew he couldn't let anyone else have you

that jtk yandere hcs request sparked smth in me..

tw/cw: noncon, stalking, kidnapping, ej has multiple tongues lol, begging, overstimulation, rough sex, ej gives u brain 😛, dumbification.. (i think), marking, being tied up, breeding kink

SFW

- you had caught ej on his mission, you were a heavily trained cia member and were often assigned to serial killers; he was much more stronger than you. he easily overpowered you and knew he couldn't let you go.

- but he didn't want to kill you, he was taken aback by your beauty. he brought you back to the mansion and held you captive, caring for you no matter what profanities you spat at him, or how many times you uselessly throwed punches and scratched his face.

- called you stupid but cute lil pet names— sometimes just straight up called you pet. calls you sweetheart, darling, my love, angel, princess; all of that cute corny stuff.

- loves to see you in his shirts, forces you to wear them even if its just a simple plain black shirt.

- gets furious whenever you mention leaving him or the mansion, or when you mention that you have a life and a boyfriend to go back to. he doesn't tell you he's already killed your boyfriend— and everybody else close to you, he's afraid you'll hate him forever. he screams at you, telling you that all you need is him and nothing else.

- if you ever mention leaving him or ever mention your family, job, or boyfriend; he'll sometimes leave you isolated for days (or something else..) no food nor water, chained up to your shared bed. he shows you how life would really be like if you didn't have in.

- totally accidentally killed your boyfriend, cooked him and fed him to you.. to this day you still have no idea.

- very attentive

NSFW

- whenever you mention leaving him or mention anything outside of your life with him, he'd typically leave you in a dark room for days with nothing. but on special occasions.. he'll bend you over the bed and fuck you senseless, making you chant his name. he pounds into you until the only thing on your mind is him; and how much you love him.

- loves to make you beg for him during sex. or just anywhere- it makes him so hard when you beg in a whiny voice and look up to him, pleading. (he towers over you).

"fuck... jack, please slow down. it's too much—" he cuts you off by putting his hand around your throat. you can't remember how many times you've orgasmed already. you sobbed; in both pleasure and overstimulation. you feel him throbbing inside of you, and it feels like heaven.

"i won't stop until you admit that you are mine, my love."

- eats you out.. alot. literally almost every day. hes obsessed with the taste of you. your legs are almost always hoisted up onto his shoulders while he uses his tongues to pleasure you in a way you've never felt before.

- his dick is 7 inches dont play w me.

- obsessed with tying you up, also likes to carve, draw or tattoo his name/initials on you; especially on your thighs, ass and sometimes right above or next your pussy. it's his way of showing you that you belong to him— and so does your cunt.

- has a very prominent breeding kink. constantly talks about putting his babies in you so you can't ever leave him.

your hands were tied to the headboard of your guys' bed, the bed creaking; it sounded as if it was about to crack. ej was deep inside of you, grunting and growling like a feral animal. his teeth were sunken into your neck as he endlessly talked about cumming inside of you and you won't ever be able to leave him if you have his kids.

"you'll be the perfect mother, sweetheart." 💗

- loves to fondle with your tits and grip at your thighs. it's his favorite part of your body; he often leaves marks all over them or writes/carves his name onto them.

- during sex, he's either making love to you or fucking you so hard you're unable to walk for days. when you've made him happy or anything else he would typically praise you for, it's as sweet and romantic as it could possibly get. when you've made him upset or angry? your left on the bed with his cum leaking out of your pussy, your legs so unbelievably sore.

- makes you cockwarm him while he's doing 'work'. he loves the feeling of your warm walls around his cock.

i hope u guys enjoyed this one! tips/writing advice is very appreciated!

#eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #ej creepypasta #smut #eyeless jack smut #creepypasta smut #yandere #yandere hcs

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luvrsux · 8 months

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“Taking His Anger Out”

word count: 4k

summary: you and ace have had a sweet relationship for years but as soon you’re both adults you’ve been arguing. ace only knows how to apologize in one way

cw: nsfw!! major swearing, arguing, mentions use of alcohol and drugs, fingering, creampie, degrading, minor cock warming

You and the infamous Portgas D. Ace were in a long term, romantic relationship for as long as you could remember. You recall him having a long arm around you when you threw your High School graduation cap in the year of completion. Even before then, the connection shared between you was unbreakable. Everyone figured you two would’ve been a couple sooner or later.

Now, you were a college student halfway in your studies. Life couldn’t have been better for you once you stood on your own two feet—especially in your own apartment you’ve been renting. Ace, though, attended a different school than you due to two different ambitions. Ace was a regular jock in highschool, so it was a no brainer that it overflowed into his college days. Parties, drinking and frequently being intoxicated was fueling Ace all throughout college. Although, from the two separate careers and buildings, you’d still welcome him in your home and vice versa a few times a week. Every night ended in the same fate. You two would share drinks, even roll a few joints to puff and pass time. Eventually, he’d rock your body until your eyes panned nothing but fuzz and the feeling of pure euphoria. The morning after was consistent. Ace would hold you close all night long, and resented the fact you had to get up bright and early for classes that day.

“No… stay with me”

Ace would murmur the words into your ear, it being the immediate cause of your defeat to procrastinate in bed a little longer. Other than drugs and sex, Ace loved napping or sleeping with you more than anything—especially after rocking your brains out silly.

Not everything stays perfect, though. Over the last few days, it was filled with nothing but sinister remarks and heated arguments. It was the end of the semester and stress was the only emotion you could feel and Ace was becoming a nuisance to you from his immature and irresponsible behavior. Granted, you were quite the party goer yourself, but Ace didn’t know when to stop. You hadn’t remembered the last time you two shared a wholesome, loving moment from the vast amounts of arguments. Now, laying on your cold and isolated bed, you rebooted the most recent argument in your head that was debatably the worst one yet.

“(F/N), what’s your problem?” Ace had a bare arm on your kitchen counter with an irritated expression. Your entire attire explained your current state; stressed and exhausted.

“My problem is you decided to burst into my house unannounced, high off your goddamn ass when I’m trying to study” You pinched your temple with a hand on your hip. You heard the jock scoff.

“So now all of sudden I can’t come over? We’ve been doing this for years now, do you not know that?” As you said, Ace wasn’t sober upon arrival. Due to this current argument, though, you managed to completely sober him up.

“That’s not the fucking point! I have literally been texting and calling you all night so you can come over, but when I give up and start focusing on myself you want to be an irresponsible moron!” You snapped back. Ace formed a sarcastic smile and poked his tongue from the inside of his cheek.

“I was at a party, I fucking told you! I can’t just have my eyes glued on my phone because of you, (F/N)! Plus, you act like you aren’t getting high off your own ass, don’t bring that shit!” Ace replied. His demeanor was going to make you explode.

“But you couldn’t check once? Seriously? I was worried, for fucks sake!”

“It’s not my fault you decided to rot in this fucking place all by yourself all the time! You could’ve came with” Ace gestured his arms to point to your home. “Hell, I should’ve dragged your ass if it meant I didn’t have to hear your mouth!”

“Wow,” You crossed your arms. “You are well aware I have finals coming up” You felt your chest tighten. “Actually, you don’t! Considering the fact you spend 90% of your college days partying and blacking out drunk!”

“Oh, sorry that I actually know how to have fun! Sorry I don’t want to be seen as boring” He hissed, referring to you.

“Fuck you, Ace! You’re so self absorbed you forgot who you even were, asshole!” Your voice cracked, signaling your emotions were about to take a toll on your own mental state.

“Fuck me?! I’m trying to understand where the hell this came from when I was trying to see my fucking girlfriend!” Ace pointed a hand at you, meanwhile you were trying to hold back any tears that dared to escape.

“Because I physically can’t fucking stand you, Ace! I can’t!” You saw Ace completely freeze. He felt his heart sting at your troubled words. Before he could consider that you were emotionally exhausted from school and it being the reason you spoke nonsense, he let his pride shield that completely.

“I’ve been trying to handle you and my own assignments at the same time but this is fucking insane! You are so inconsiderate, it’s baffling to me! Not everything revolves around you!” You spoke without thinking. In reality, you didn’t mean a single word that left your mouth but you didn’t know that.

“Consider the feeling mutual, (F/N)” Is all Ace said. You paused, heavily breathing.

“What?”

“I can’t fucking stand you anymore, (F/N)”

After his sinister statement, he grabbed his keys that laid on the marbled counter and approached the front door. Your guilt came flooding in like a tsunami.

“Wait- Baby, c’mon I didn’t mean it-“

“So why the hell did you say it? Hm?” You saw that he had tears in his eyes himself. He truly loved you, and every second with you. Through the good and the most ugly, the firm, fiery grip he had on your heart never loosened.

“Ace, I’m just-… I’m just stressed and you- C’mon babe you know I love you-“

“Cut that bullshit, (F/N)! You’ve made it very clear where your feelings are” His voice cracked, similarly to yours from a few moments ago.

“Just—… Leave me alone”

With that, all you were met with was the clicking sound the front door made when Ace made himself out.

You remember staring at the door in complete guilt and defeat. Surely you thought you single handedly ruined your entire relationship with one fight. The entire incident happened three whole nights ago, but it felt like it was just yesterday. There was no sign that Ace ended things between you, considering he’d keep his shared photos between you two all over social media—which you greatly appreciated. Your eyes were dry of tears after the quarrel, and all you could think about was your cowboy of a boyfriend.

Ace felt shattered by your words, but also his own actions. He only blamed you for the entire duration back to his own place. As soon as he secluded himself in the comfort of his shared apartment, he realized he should’ve been more considerate of your schedule. Ace also realized that he’s been rather a reckless student and a reckless boyfriend. In all honesty, you were the first serious relationship he had. Anything else prior were one night stands or quick week-long flings. The spell you put on him the day he set eyes on you is something he’d never forget, not even after his last breath of air escapes his lungs.

Ace tried substances to make him blur out the ordeal but nothing. He was saddened to see you hadn’t messaged him once, despite him asking him for space. He missed you, more than anything. His roommates, Sabo and Marco, pitifully watched him wallow. Ace thanked them, though, for at least trying to help him feel better with certain things.

You took it upon yourself to finally break the ice. You knew Ace wasn’t going to do it because he either was drowning in his own pride or was terrified you’d resent him for his actions. All you did was slip shorts under your oversized graphic tee and a pair of rundown sneakers.

“(F/N)?” You saw Sabo answer the door. Considering you’ve only spoken to your boyfriends brother a select few amount of times, and also the current situation he most likely knew about, you felt extremely awkward.

“Is Ace home?” Is all you asked. Sabo turned his head to peer to a Marco that looked just as clueless. Marco shot him a dumbfounded shrug for Sabo to turn back to you with a sigh.

“He is, but he’s kind of locked in his room” Sabo informed. The intel made your heart crack, knowing you were the cause of it. Sabo moved aside to let you in without another word.

“His room is down the hall” Sabo pointed as if you were completely foreign to his residence. You didn’t bat an eye to the blonde and strut down to Ace’s cove.

Your knuckle gently knocked on the door. Nothing. You drummed your knuckle on the wooden door again to finally get a response.

“Sabo, Marco… I really don’t care” He muffled through the door. You bit your lip from the sheer amount of nerves coursing your veins. You didn’t hesitate to turn the knob to burst into his room.

“Thats no way to treat your roommates”

You tried to lighten the room, which was barely illuminated. The street lights were the only light source inside. The pungent scent of earthy marijuanna and alcohol punched your nose like a boxer.

“(F/N)…?” Ace said weakly. His voice made you close the door behind for simple privacy. You heard Ace’s body shuffle to stand up and flick on his bedside lamp.

The light shined on Ace’s dead face. His eyes were swollen and framed by dark circles. It seemed as if he’d been in a miserable state for eons. His expression was newborn to you and nothing you were used to. The only thing that stayed were his, what only you described, cute freckles.

“Baby…” You whispered. The sight completely broke your heart more than it already was. You immediately ran to cup his face and sit beside him. You felt his body shake.

“Why are you here? You didn’t text me once” Ace moved your hands away, not knowing if he should be happy or angry at the mere sight of you.

“You said you wanted to be alone…” You replied. Ace averted eye contact and his eyes admitted defeat.

“I was also scared you were angry at me, which you should be” You continued. The jock slowly nodded his head up and down.

“Well, you’re right” He murmured. You felt a lump in your throat.

“Look, we both did unforgivable things, Ace. Let’s be honest…” You knew if you disagreed with him it’ll only create a back and fourth bicker.

“Especially you” He replied, standing his ground. You felt slightly offended by his words.

“Okay well, you were the one being inconsiderate” You reminded. Ace rolled his eyes.

“Don’t fucking start, babe…” He groaned.

“I’m starting now?” What you thought to be a comforting, civil conversation turned into yet another bicker.

“Oh, Jesus christ” He hissed.

You felt a strong hand grip your delicate throat. His sudden movement shocked the core out of you. You yelped and tried to stress your breathing that was slowly being restricted by your angry boyfriends hand.

“You don’t understand how badly I wanted to fucking see you. You take up most, if not all, of my brain but you just can’t seem to stop being an annoying little brat, can you?” Ace crept his face towards your own. The doe eyes you gave him did something lethal to him.

“A-Ace…” You tried to speak, only to receive a stronger grip. You couldn’t lie, you were enjoying your new necklace.

“Shut your pretty mouth, (F/N). You don’t know how badly I missed you, but you refuse to understand” He threw you on your back and hovered over you. His grip lightly loosened but never detached from your neck.

You felt his necklace press against your chest as he lowered his head to the crook of you neck. You felt his hot breathing on the lobe of your ear.

“I guess I’ll just have to show you what the fuck you’ve been doing to me, slut”

His devilish voice zapped your very core. Ace finally parted his hand from your neck and lifted your rugged tee to expose your chest.

“Seriously? No bra? It’s like you wanted me to fuck you after our little reunion” He cupped one of your breasts into his hand, letting the sensitive bud poke in between his fingers. He groped and fondled them with force, pulling on your buds to get a yelp out of you.

“Ace…~” You whimper. He was completely giving you whiplash from his sudden shift but you couldn’t complain. Sure, you’d have amazing sex with Ace frequently but this was a rare sight.

“I missed that pathetic voice, baby” He said with a hoarse tone. He didn’t stop pleasuring your chest and bowed down to crash his lips against your own with passion.

You synced your lips with his familiarly. It became muscle memory at this point. You two would exhale in the middle of the kiss and he’d grunt from his own excitement. Ace parted his lips from yours to leave a trail of sweet, dark lovemarks and bites. He wanted to mark what was rightfully his, and you adored it.

You latched a hand on his head to grip his dark locks. You heard a shaken groan leave his lips while he was in the middle of going to town on your neck and collarbone. You knew he absolutely thrived for your grip on his shaggy hair.

“I’m gonna make you feel like your legs are gonna fall off, baby~” He breathed out. You felt his rough hands grip the sides of your thighs.

“Yes, sir” That name made Ace go crazy. He jerked his body off your upper half and focus on what was important. He yanked off your loose shorts and press his two digits against your entrance. Your slit throbbed at his mere touch. Ace would feel the wetness seeping through your lace.

“Good, the bratty slut is already ready for me” He chuckled. This index and middle trailed up and down your slit teasingly. Ace was ready to tear you apart like he hadn’t stretched you out in ages, but teasing you was a more pleasurable sight.

“Please, Ace…” You murmur submissively. The eyes that were once admiring your laced entrance glistened up at your, what can only be described as pathetic to Ace, face.

“Please what, doll?” He cooed. Ace slowly peeled the cloth that covered your wetness to the side for him to gently caress it. The mere feeling on his fingertips was enough for him to bite his lower lip. You couldn’t stop your submissive whimpers and moans.

“C’mon, (F/N). Use your words” He rubbed your throbbing bud with a single finger in a circle. The sensitive feeling coursed through your body like never before. Ace longed for an answer to come out your lips.

“Please… Please f-fuck me~” You stammered. Those words were enough for Ace to shove his two digits inside your warm entrance. The velvet walls wrapped around his fingers tightly.

You released a small yelp as you felt him plunge his fingers without a single warning. He didn’t hesitate to quicken his pace, leaving you no room to think or react.

You felt your hands grip the sheets with pleasure. Ace made sure to curve his fingers to perfectly kiss your g-spot with every thrust. At this point, his two roommates were on the verge of hearing your lustful noises from outside.

The walls around Ace’s finger began to tighten around him. He felt you spasm your legs and buck your hips into his fingers, growing more and more desperate to reach your climax—but Ace didn’t agree. As your head was thrown back and your eyes rolled, he plucked his now sticky, dewed fingers out of your cave.

“I wanna feel you cum on something else, baby. Be a good girl and wait a little longer”

You whines in response. Your pussy was throbbing, screaming for more of Ace’s touch or something even more. You rubbed your legs together in protest as your impatience grew while watching Ace undo his pants.

“I said…” He breathed. Before you knew it, you were thrown on your stomach with your rear propped up in front of him. You moaned at Ace’s aggressive touch, and it only risen once you felt his hand forcefully plunge your head into the cushioned bed.

“Be fucking patient, you whore”

He growled. His other hand guided his hardened member along your soaked slit, teasing you a little bit more. You felt completely pathetic under Ace’s control. Sure, he was needy and rough, but this dominance was only occasional. Only when you were really getting on his nerves; like today.

You continued to whine at the feeling of Ace trace his member along your lips and clit. You were getting beyond antsy to feel him spread your walls further out with the girth of his cock.

“Stop teasing, baby” You murmur, only for it to be muffled from the mattress. “I.. I need you~”

Ace’s hand trailed from your messy hair to the back of your neck, giving it a tender squeeze. He merely slid the tip in, making your body’s neediness spike.

“Of course you do, you slut. You can’t even wait a few seconds, sweetheart”

He pulled his tip out to form a small string of juices connecting you two. As soon as it snapped, Ace plunged his member with every last inch inside of you. He smashed against your cervix like a collision on the freeway. Nothing prevented you from screaming at the top of your lungs from the immense pleasure from one thrust. You heard Ace hiss and groan when he felt himself enter you.

He moved the hand that was once at your neck to your drooling mouth. Your light moans and whimpers now muffled once again.

“Be fucking quiet, yeah? Sabo and- ngnnh~ Marco are still awake” Ace ordered. All you could muster up was a submissive nod.

Ace pulled your body slightly upward to get a better grip of your mouth and clamped his hands on the fats of your thighs, making perfect handles for the cowboy.

Ace plowed your body like it was the last day on Earth. His palm grew wet from your saliva but he didn’t mind one bit. Ace grunted loudly and your muffled moans didn’t make a difference. You two were still loud, loud enough for the two poor roommates to hear absolutely everything.

“Fuuuuuck” Ace extended his words while he went ballistic on your pussy. Your eyes rolled back as you let your angry boyfriend scramble your mind until it went blank. All that was filled in the room was the musk scent of the two bodies colliding, the sloppy, slushing sounds of skin smacking and lustful, loud noises escaping the both of you.

Ace learned to not care about your volume and turn his palm into two fingers in your mouth. He loved the way your noises projected once he removed the very thing that muffled your noise.

“Yeah, keep screaming like that from my dick- unghh~” Ace spoke breathlessly in your ear. He bit your ear lobe, causing another source of sensation from your body.

“Oh-! Oh, fuck~” You managed to speak out. Your previous climax crept back up again. Ace noticed your walls spasm and tighten around his speeding member.

“Gonna cum? You gonna cum all over my cock, huh?” You could hear the devilish grin plastered widely on his face by his words. You nod frantically.

“Yes, sir~! I’m gonna cum- mmph~!!” Your moans got reckless and completely messy once you reached your climax. Ace didn’t slow down a single minute. He speedily penetrated you through each moment, making your orgasm completely flatline your brain. You don’t remember moaning so loud in your life, you were sure you’d lose your voice.

“Ace, Ace~! I’m f-fucking cumming~!” You cried. At this point, the entire apartment complex could hear you.

Ace chuckled at your reaction, never daring to stop for a single second. He enjoyed watching your juices spurt out on his pelvis, dripping down both of his and your legs. You felt the high libido driven boy force you back down on the bed, practically suffocating you with the pillows scattered among it.

“My fu- ugh~… My fucking turn” He groaned. Ace gripped both of his rough hands on your hips and slammed your whole body against his pelvis. Each thrust rewarded him in a lustful scream from you.

“Aaaaaace~” You longingly moaned, your voice wobbling as your body was forcefully being rammed into. He let out a loud grunt at your voice.

“You want it?” He breathed. You nodded in the sheets.

“Y-Yes, please!”

“How bad?”

The mountain of pleasure clouded your will to speak, making it harder to form out words.

“I said how bad, slut!” Ace harshly slapped your ass, leaving a bright red mark to stay. You shrieked.

“So fucking baaaad~!” You extended your words again, similarly like before when you called his name. Your answer pleased your boyfriend and you could feel his grip get tighter.

“I’m gonna cum, baby” He groaned. At this point, your body was shaking like a leaf in the blistering winter. The pleasure was overstimulating you beyond belief. Ace had officially broke your entire mind.

“F-Fuck, Im cumming!” You felt his member twitch inside of you. You formed a devilish grin as you felt his thick, warm seed erupt inside of your core. Ace didn’t stop. He kept thrusting for a little longer until he dumped his last few drops of his cum. He let out one last groan.

“Fuck me, (F/N)…” He left his raw cock bake inside of you for a few moments as he caressed your back gently. You were heavily breathing out a lung, completely worn out from Ace’s monstrous endurance.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” He cooed. You felt a more pleased smile crack in your lips. Ace finally, and slowly, pull out his sticky, drenched member to watch all of his seed pour outside of you. You whimpered feeling it ooze out of your body.

Ace mesmerized the sight as if it were a renaissance painting. He noticed that your knees were on the verge of giving out and quickly cleaned yourself up with whatever nearby shirt he had laying around.

Your vision was trying to collect itself after getting your consciousness fucked out of you. You felt brute hands lift you up comfortably on the bed followed by the same arms to pull you into warm embrace. The same embrace you’ve longed for as long as you can remember.

“I still love you, more than ever, my sweet (F/N)” You heard Ace’s soothing tone clear as day while he caressed your exhausted face.

“I’m sorry…” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, tenderly pressing your body against his.

“I’m sorry too, my love… I’ll be more considerate of you” He rubbed your back as he hugged you into his chest. His grip was so heavy that you’d think you’d disappear if he let go.

“You mean so much to me…” Ace yawned. “I love you” He repeated.

“I love you, too…”

You both drifted to your long awaited slumber at the embrace of each other. He had a hand on the back of your head and an arm wrapped around your fetal positioned body.

It was safe to say this was the last argument you two had for a long while.

all licensing and ownership belong to eiichiro oda

#op x reader #fanfic #one piece #x reader #portgas d ace #ace x fem reader #ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace smut #portgas ace x reader #one piece x reader

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