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defectiveporcelaindoll · 2 months

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Chapter III: So High School

“Bittersweet sixteen suddenly”

series masterlist previous chapter

pairing: post-prison/ cm: evolution Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader (I like to think this is where Spencer is during the current seasons.)

series synopsis: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.

cw: age gap (Spencer is 42, reader is 24 in chapter 1), Use of y/n's (I'm sorry, I know l'm sick of it too.), fake marriage, romance romancing, kisses and touches but no smut (yet…maybe) ; Reader is feisty and flirty; Spencer is anxious and has an aggressive outburst; female reader she/her pronouns, and mentions of typical CM violence.

wc: 2.7k (they just keep getting longer and longer)

“Okay. Classes are canceled, if anyone asks, you’re sick. I called Emily, let her know we won't be working tonight. Uh, what else- oh! I got us a reservation at the Glass Garden. I think that might be fun, and I got us a table at a restaurant that has really great reviews,” he called from his place on the sofa. Hearing the bathroom door open, he turned, his breath catching in his lungs. In the backlight of the bathroom, Spencer Reid almost believed he’d seen an angel standing in his living room in a sundress.

“Oh- um, you look really pretty- not that you aren’t always pretty, obviously you must know that you’re beautiful but I just—in comparison to when you were crying… you’re…” Any attempt to save himself from the awkward hole he’d dug himself into died on his tongue as Y/N giggled. Her laugh was like a ray of sunlight, melting parts of Spencer’s heart he’d long forgotten.

“Okay, so I’m sick,” she gives him her best fake little kid cough, causing him to roll his eyes. “We’re off duty and you made us plans…oh, and I guess I clean up pretty good for a girl who just had a meltdown against our front door.”

“Very well… for a girl who had a meltdown against our front door,” Spencer nods, his cheeks beginning to ache from the smile that’s been plastered on his lips since she entered the room.

Once they were off campus, the couple let out an exhale neither were aware they'd been holding, away from prying eyes allowed to simply exist as individuals for the first time in weeks.

“You said we’re going to a glass garden?” Y/N asks, fiddling with the sleeve of the cardigan Spencer insisted she bring as they make their way down the highway.

“Yes! The Chihuly Garden,” she smiled, loving the way his features lit up with such excitement. “It’s supposed to be this insanely beautiful collection of really intricate and colorful glass sculptures. I’ve always wanted to see it but we never have time when we’re in the city for a case. Actually, I saw one of the artist's pieces in London—god, it had to be almost twenty-five… years ago.”

Spencer’s heart dropped to his stomach, the excitement in his voice dying with the last words, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. His age was showing, and this feeling was something he’d never experienced before. For nearly twenty years, Spencer had been the youngest person on the team. Even at forty-two years old, he still was the baby until Y/N joined. Was this how everyone else felt, talking to him about ‘the good ole days’ for all those years?

Y/N glanced over at him, a soft sympathetic smile taking her lips. In the three weeks she’d spent in such close proximity to Spencer, she’d picked up on a few of his tells. Right now, she could see the wheels turning in his mind, convincing him he’d ruined things and debating addressing the difference in their ages.

“Spence—”

He didn't respond, his mind still running rampant until he felt the pressure of a hand on his thigh, pulling him back to reality and causing him to inhale sharply, his eyes frantically shifting between the hand, the road, and the woman in his passenger seat.

“There we go…” Y/N mumbled, giving his thigh a little squeeze before pulling her hand away and back into her lap. “You know it doesn’t bother me, right? You don’t need to freak yourself out because you’ve got a couple of years on me, Spencer,” she said with a little more confidence than Spencer was used to hearing from her.

“And besides, I’ve always had a taste for older men,” she shrugged, leaning across the center console to press a kiss to his now flushing cheeks. Spencer couldn't even bear to look at her, his heart racing as he tried to remain focused on the road. Was Y/N actually flirting with him or was she teasing him? Surely it had to be a joke.

The remainder of the drive was uneventfully quiet, with the couple only really speaking to point out the landmarks they’d passed until they pulled into the tiny parking lot beside the Space Needle. As soon as he’d killed the engine, Spencer was out of the car, running around the back to grab Y/N’s door. She smirked, eyeing the older man up and down as he playfully caught his breath from the minimal jog.

“Shall we, M’lady,” he mumbled awkwardly, offering her a hand as she slipped out of the car.

“get my car door isn’t that sweet. then pull me to the back seat”

“Who said chivalry was dead… Keep it up, we won't be making it out of this parking lot,” her brow wiggled rather suggestively as she watched Spencer gulp, his palm beginning to sweat against hers. “Come on, lover boy. I need that big brain to tell me all about the pretty glass.”

Their afternoon was spent hand in hand or arm in arm, the two only separating long enough for one of them to take a photo of the other. Spencer claimed he ‘needed a good photo for his office’. Y/N thought it was cheesy, but she’d giggle and pose wherever he directed her, and he’d try to do the same for her; though, his poses were far more stiff and awkward, but somehow, that made them all the more endearing.

They spent hours observing the installations, with Spencer rattling on about the different techniques used for each detail and Y/N occasionally offering her own commentary about how the art made her feel. To any passersby, they looked like a happy couple that had known each other for years, not two FBI agents playing make-believe for a while.

The restaurant Spencer had picked for dinner was across the park from the gardens, so there was no sense in moving the car. The once bright late summer sun had fallen victim to the Seattle clouds that were beginning to roll in as the couple meandered through the park. Spencer’s eyes trailed the younger woman’s face; he could tell she was contemplating something.

“What is it?”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Y/N glanced up at him, her hand falling from his grasp as she twisted her fingers anxiously, waiting for Spencer’s nod of approval. When it came, she paused, taking a deep breath.

“Doctor Spencer Reid, do you know that you completely changed my life?”

Spencer froze a few paces in front of her, brows knit together as he tried to decipher whether or not this was part of her act as the loving wife or if he actually, unbeknownst to him, had an effect on this young woman’s life.

“You taught a seminar in Nevada five years ago, breaking down the relationships between psychology and philosophy in human behavior.” Y/N’s gaze dropped, the summer breeze exposing the blush creeping up her ears. “I wasn’t even supposed to be in the class; I was an English major, but my roommate dragged me along… and maybe it was the way you taught, your excitement I guess? Or the way that it felt like you actually cared. I could’ve listened to you talk for hours.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “After that seminar, I marched myself down to the counseling office and became a psych major… added a year and a half to my college experience, but given that I’m about to walk into a very expensive restaurant, married to the professor who changed my life? I think it just might’ve been worth it.” She let out a breathy chuckle, her eyes searching Spencer’s for any indication of discomfort before dropping her gaze back to her hands, mindlessly fiddling with her wedding band. “Sorry, I just really needed to get that off my chest.”

“tell bout the first time you saw me”

For a moment, Spencer sat awestruck. He rarely found himself at a loss for words, but the newfound warmth in his chest made it nearly impossible to speak. So instead, he took her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he nodded, guiding her down the path to the restaurant in silence until they reached the door. He hesitated just outside, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

“Thank you… just… thank you.”

Dinner went smoothly, with the only minor hiccup being Spencer’s tangent about the bread basket and his qualms with group food. But other than that, the two simply enjoyed each other’s company, the sound of rain echoing against the roof as they ate.

As the couple exited the restaurant, they were met with the heavy downpour of a summer night storm. Y/N sighed, pulling her cardigan around her a little tighter, her lips pursed as she looked up at Spencer, his hands stuffed anxiously in his pockets. There was no way they were getting to the car dry, he knew that as a fact. So, with a little sigh and a nod to Y/N, he stepped out from the covered awning, arms outstretched as he let the rain soak him.

“Oh, so you’re crazy!” Y/N called, her voice hardly audible over the downpour, making no attempt to move. After a minute, Spencer jogged back to her, his arms wrapping around her middle as he lifted her, kicking and laughing, carting her out into the rain. She wiggled free of him, a smile plastered on her face as her hair began to drip.

She spun around, embracing the fact she was now thoroughly soaked, a girlish giggle passing her lips as she tucked wet hair behind her ears “Ya now, even soaking wet, this may just may be the most successful date I’ve ever been on.”

Spencer quirked a brow, his head falling to the side like a puppy’s. “Your dating pool is really that bad?” he mused, remembering what it was like to be in his twenties awkwardly trying to make meaningful connections with people

“I don’t even really date; the men—no, they were boys—that have come into my life only ever want to waste my time, so… It’s like a twisted game of kiss,marry, kill? Except everyone sucks and there is a good chance someone is going to actually be crazy enough to kill you?” She shrugged, taking a moment to stare up at the sky her lashes heavy with raindrops

“So what’s it gonna be?” she called, her head turning to glance up at Spencer, the challenge in her eyes illuminated by the gas lamps lining the pavement. “You gonna marry, kiss, or kill me, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer’s eyes darkened, accepting her challenge with a mix of desire and determination as he stepped closer. Wordlessly, closing the space between them, his hand gently cradling her jaw, his touch an even balance between tender and possessive. He leaned in, devouring her lips, capturing her in a kiss that was anything but tentative. The kiss was electric, a rush of sensation that made the world around them disappear. His other hand found its way to her waist, pulling her closer, his fingers digging into the damp fabric.

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers gripping the damp fabric that clung to his chest, pulling him closer still. She melted into him, the feel of his lips moving against hers sending shivers down her spine despite the warmth that blossomed in her chest. The rain pounded around them, soaking their clothes and plastering her hair to her face, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way Spencer held her, the way his mouth moved over hers with a hunger that left her breathless.

“I’m betting on all three,” she whispered against his lips, her voice dripping with desire.

“All three…” he repeated, pulling away just enough to press a kiss to her forehead, his hands still cradling her face. “I am way too old for you…” he muttered breathlessly, his head shaking as he brought it down to rest against hers.

“The bureau seems to disagree,” her retort was quick, her lips ghosting over his. “And like I said earlier, it doesn’t bother me. I’m a big girl. I know what I want.” She kissed him one more time, hard and quick, before bolting through the park towards the car, leaving Spencer standing in the rain like a lovesick kid.

Spencer watched her go, his heart pounding hard and heavy against his ribs while his mind raced a million miles a minute as he tried to make sense of the fact that his ‘wife’ just might actually like him.

“Are you coming or what?” The rain had died down enough for Y/N’s voice to travel with ease. Spencer ran his hand through his wet curls, pushing them off his face before breaking into a jog up to the car. When she was within arm's reach, Spencer pulled her close, just taking a moment to hold her, fantasize that this life they were leading could be his reality.

Y/N wasted no time, her lips finding the curve of his jaw with ease, her hands tugging at the collar of his shirt. Spencer let out a groan, his head turning just enough to grant her better access to the sensitive skin at his neck, carefully guiding her back against the car door before returning his hand to her jaw, drawing her lips up to his.

There was a moment of bliss, where this was the only world that mattered, just a couple of lovestruck kids, then the shrill tone of Spencer’s phone cut through the air.

“Let it ring,” she all but whined.

“That’s Emily’s ringtone—” he groaned, fishing the all too loud phone out of his pocket and sighing loudly before putting the phone to his ear. “It’s not really a good ti-” he stopped, his gaze flicking down to Y/N, her frame pressed against the car door, another sigh leaving his now slightly kiss-bruised lips as he untangled himself from her. “No, I understand, I hear you. We’re heading back to the house… we’ll be there to meet the officer.” She took that as her cue, silently slipping into the passenger seat. Spencer stayed outside, pacing the length of the car, nodding to himself as Emily continued to talk.

“I’ll let her know.” His voice was muffled from behind the window. “Yup. Okay. We’ll call you if there’s any update. Good night.” Y/N watched as he hung up the phone, his head hanging low for a moment before he turned, striking the back door in a heated flash of anger, before he stalked around the car, climbing into the driver's seat.

It’s silent for a moment, the car tense with now long-forgotten lust as Spencer tossed his phone into the center console.

“There’s another couple. Same MO, same calling card.” She could see the frustration bubbling to the surface again as Spencer’s knuckles started to turn white against the steering wheel. “Local field agent is going to bring the updated file and the crime scene photos to the house…”

“Spence, this isn’t your fault—”

“I never said it was,” he bites back, sending Y/N shrinking into her seat. “I’m sorry… I just— I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean to snap at you… I know there was nothing we could’ve done. But it's still frustrating.”

She nods, now her turn to comfort him, her hand hesitantly reaching out across the center console to pry his from the wheel, gently squeezing. “I know, Spence. I know. We’ll figure this out, build our profile, but unfortunately, we just need a little more time. Hopefully soon enough, this unsub will take the bait and it’ll be us against them…” She chuckles softly, shaking her head in an attempt to lighten the mood. “God, that’s morbid… thinking it’ll be a relief to have a murderer place a target on your head…”

“You get used to it…” he said, any warmth in his voice evaporated as the engine roared to life.

the brink of a wrinkle in time

taglist : @olives-and-sunshine @iniyalovesall @suzysface @guiltyyassin @spencereidbasis @tatilolz @cherrycemeterry @hiireadstuff @r-3dlips @sweetpeterparker @catertotshitposts

I hope i got everyone! if you’d like to be added to the taglist don’t hesitate to lemme know and as always i’d love to know the thoughts and feelings! xo

#mgg #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut

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spacebarbarianweird · 6 months

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Hi! I absolutely love your headcannons!! Would it be possible for me to request sick Astarion? Or Astarion with a sick Tav? :)

Hi! Thank you for your request! I think I can do both!

Masterlist

Headcanons

Caring for their sick partner

Astarion takes care of you

He isn't a nurturing type.

He doesn't really care about himself let alone someone else!

Besides, it's not like he used to hang out with mortals a lot.

During your post-game adventures, you end in the far north in the middle of winter.

Astarion doesn't feel cold, but he notices you feel uncomfortable near him - his body is cold, and he steals the heat you need so much.

It causes tension between you two - one of the first challenges for you as a couple.

During a fight, you fall through the ice and almost die in the dark cold waters.

Astarion saves you but the damage is done.

You are severely sick.

Astarion freaks out.

You are dying in his arms.

He has to save you. He won't lose you.

Astarion manages to dress you in dry and warm clothes. He leaves you by the fire for a bit to hunt - you need food, and Astarion needs blood to warm you.

Then, when you stabilize, he carries you to the closest village and gives you all the money you've earned in your travels for a room in the inn.

He spoon-feeds you and wraps you in the warmest blankets.

Sometimes you pout, refusing to take one more bitter medicine, but he can't take this nonsense - you are going to get better. Period.

When you wake up, still in fever, Astarion is always near. Either wrapping you with his blood-warm body or with his ear on your chest as if he was afraid your heart was going to stop at any given moment.

As the spring comes, you finally get better. Astarion gives you a bath, and you realize how itchy and sweaty your body is.

Then he lashes at you, of course.

You were reckless, you were risking yourself. How could you?

But you know he speaks out of fear, and you comfort him, promising to never put yourself in danger without a need.

You take care of Astarion

If you weren't a nurturing type, you wouldn't end up with Astarion.

The man needs help and care, something he never had.

You comfort him after the nightmares and kiss away his tears.

He doesn't need to be cared for physically - once the tadpole is removed, he regenerates, and it's impossible to wound him.

But he is a mental wreck who can have a meltdown over a trigger word or a cruel flashback after an innocent action.

But he is far from invincible.

He is being reckless and ends up surrounded by monster hunters.

They chain him in silver and leave him helpless on the ground to see the sun.

You manage to come to the rescue - and murder all three of them.

But as you fight, the sun rises, and it burns Astarion.

It's almost too late for him when you set him free and drag him to the shadows.

The regeneration is slowed down - the burns are as bad as if he survived a fire.

You give him blood. All you can do without killing yourself.

The assault causes one of the worst setbacks in his healing process.

Astarion is almost catatonic - curling in the darkest corner of the room in the fetal position.

You can only guess what prison his tortured mind is locked in.

You talk to him. Hug him. Takes care of his hair. Caress his back.

Days become weeks, weeks become months - and one evening Astarion is finally back.

He wraps his hand around you and nuzzles your collarbone.

By the end of the night, Astarion is his true self again, ready for everything freedom has to offer.

"I was there, in the tomb," he confesses. "I was locked there, in the dark, and all my life looked like a feverish dream."

"I am here, love," you say. "I will always be here for you."

You pretend you don't see his tears as you say it.

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong

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teencopandthesourwolf · 10 months

Text

“Here!”

Stiles slams something down on the coffee table to the left of Derek's (Stiles's) laptop.

Derek is searching online, only a little psychotically, in the hope of finding a store that sells these very specific organic coffee beans he tried in a hipster coffee house recently. Derek isn't a hipster—he isn't—he just likes nice coffee, is all. Really, he should have asked the barista to find out not just the brand name but their supplier's address too because this is driving him insane. Maybe he is insane? More likely just incredibly shit at the internet, but he thinks he'd prefer to plead insanity if challenged.

Derek unknits his eyebrows and looks down at… a green thing. It's sort of feather shaped and has many spindles with bronzed edges.

It's a leaf.

His eyebrows knit themselves back together as he blinks down at the thing a couple of times.

“It's a leaf,” he says, because he doesn't know what else he's supposed to say.

Then he looks up—and back and forth at Stiles who is now pacing the apartment and alternating between clicking his fingers and flicking his thumbs and shaking his arms out at the sides of his body; his stimming can get pretty extra when he's anxious.

Derek's frown deepens with immediate concern. He must've really been deep in it with the infuriating Google searching to not have noticed the smell of Stiles's distress when his mate first arrived home.

“Hey, what's—”

“Yes, Derek, it's a leaf. It is a leaf that I brought all the way home. For you. From the cemetery.”

He's still pacing.

“Okay, well do you want to tell me—“

“It's an Apology Leaf. Obviously.”

Obviously.

“And, Derek, do not laugh, because—"

“I won't but could you just—“

“—this isn't funny. I'm ridiculous, I know, and I know that that's funny. But this? This is decidedly deeply unfunny, alright? This is totally not at all funny, Derek. It's like, a thing without one tiny ounce of humour in it, as in not the slightest bit funny in a gazillion sombre years. Do you hear me?” He inhales deeply, holds the breath, then blows it out harshly via puffed-out cheeks as he clicks and flails some more.

Derek hears Stiles and is of course prepared to wait for him to explain whatever this is, because Derek would wait for Stiles until the end of time, if he had to. Although that's not likely a thing to happen in any reality as this is Stiles who can't go for longer than fifteen seconds without talking. But still, Derek thinks it's the sentiment that counts.

“You, Derek Hale, are good, and someone as good as you deserves somebody far, far better than a ratbag like me. Hence the leaf,” Stiles now tells him in a rush of even more confusing words, his chemo-signals tinged with shame for some worrying reason Derek is yet to discern.

Stiles glances over anxiously from his place of animated, mysterious penance—and then looks away again just as quickly while still trying to wear footprints into the recently painted varnish on the wooden floor of their new apartment.

Derek is clueless as to the cause of Stiles's meltdown, but neither things are a first. Stiles struggles sometimes—just like Derek does, who has plenty of his own outbursts (albeit more moody than vocal) that Stiles has to Private Dick his way through.

Derek is also trying his best not to worry too much about thinking that this is somehow his fault, so now sets his mind on attempting to marry these seemingly unrelated things in his head.

He thinks about the facts he's been presented with:

What is, at an educated guess, a Pacific Yew leaf.

and

Stiles's rather unhinged and self-deprecating dig at himself-slash-compliment for Derek.

...Yeah, no, he's not getting better at this game any time soon.

“Uh,” he says helpfully, and Stiles rolls his eyes in that Do I really have to do everything myself around here? way of his which, rude.

Good job Derek loves the kook.

“It was just sitting there, on top of my mom's gravestone when I got there,” Stiles says quietly, incredulously, gesturing at the innocuous leaf.

Then he's off again with the pacing.

“And I knew, straight away, I knew,” he says, getting louder again and laughing in this accusatory sort of way, pointing somewhere into the ether, eyes manic.

Derek scratches his nose. He hopes he will soon know, too, because honestly, he's kind of blindfolded in the dark here.

“She was obviously telling me what a dipshit I was! What a douche I am! A massive ass-hat! Total loser!”

“I mean, that's mostly fair, but maybe total loser is a little strong.” Derek will often speak Stiles's language when Stiles is freaking out, using humour to try and ground him.

Stiles carries on as if Derek hadn’t said anything.

“And I was like, Come on, mom, give me a break, will you? and she was like Seriously, Mischief? You really wouldn't let the special person in your life, your special little guy—”

“You can just say boyfriend, Stiles.”

“—come with you to the cemetery to visit me? Like, as if with that leaf she was reminding me that you are the one person who actually gets this shit, which, I do know. Of fucking course I know. And then—get this—I swear to God, Derek, I felt her literally slapping me upside the head! No fucking word of a lie, man. Like, thousands wouldn't believe me. Millions. They'd say that it must have been the wind or my incredibly vivid imagination. But I know, Der. I know that it was her,” Stiles continues with the confession without stopping for breath.

Derek has thought it before and he'll think it again: the kid's lung capacity is seriously impressive.

“And I also know that I totally should've said yes when you asked me if I wanted you to come with me to the cemetery this morning. Because the thing is, I did want you to. I really, really did. But I just… I just…”

Stiles starts slapping himself on the forehead with both his hands and Derek has had enough of that already. He gets up off the sofa and walks over to Stiles, catching those slim wrists in his grip, gentle yet firm.

“Please don't,” Derek says, imploring Stiles to stop. Derek can understand frustration, but can't stand Stiles hurting himself.

Stiles deflates a little. He then takes a step towards Derek and leans in, resting his forehead against Derek's, their noses lining up like penguins.

“I just—I should have said yes to you when you asked because I honestly, truthfully wanted you there. It's just that I've only ever been there with my Dad. And even then, not as many times as you might think. Not even Scotty has been there with me. It's just a place—it's usually something I do alone. You know?” Stiles' front teeth worry at his pretty lip.

And yes, Derek does know.

So he says, “Because you feel guilt, right? Even though there isn't a thing in this universe or any other that you should feel guilty about.”

Guilt just for being alive.

Slightly cross-eyed with the proximity and angle, Stiles looks at Derek in a way that says he knows just how much Derek knows about this stuff.

“Yeah. Yes, exactly. And I guess I didn't know how to be that with somebody else around.”

“But Stiles, that's completely—”

“No, Der. It isn't, actually. Because you're not just somebody else. It's you. And I'm in love with you.” Stiles finally takes a breath while Derek's heart is busy swelling to twice it's size. He will never tire of hearing Stiles Stilinski say those words to him. “And I absolutely should've trusted in that. In us.”

It is, of course, completely fine that Stiles went to the cemetery alone to visit his mother, but Derek also gets where the kid is coming from. He too takes a breath, now, a big one, because this kind of stuff doesn't come as easily for him as it does Stiles.

He swallows his nerves and pushes on.

“I love you, Stiles. And it's alright that we're not perfect. Neither of us are. Us—you and me—we're both just… Finding our way.”

After a moment, Stiles adds, “Together.”

They smile at each other like huge dorks.

“Yeah.” Derek breathes, and his heart might just burst.

Derek scents Stiles, and Stiles breathes deeply too, now. “Thanks,” he says, then Derek kisses him, just as deep and for a long while, because it's his favourite thing to do in the whole damn world.

Eventually Derek pulls back, runs a thumb over Stiles's mouth and says, “You know what?”

Stiles's brow lifts inquisitively.

Derek lets go of Stiles's wrist and takes his hand instead, leading him back to the sofa and sitting them both down squarely by the coffee table where he had been sat fruitlessly Googling not so long ago.

“I believe you,” Derek says.

Stiles frowns. “Huh?” It's his turn to be confused.

“Millions wouldn't, but I believe you, Stiles. About your mom.”

He reaches across and picks up the Apology Leaf, cradling it for a brief moment in his palm before nudging at Stiles's hand and urging him to take it, which he does.

Derek then grabs the laptop, side-eyeing his previous Google search—WHO NEAR ME SELLS PHOENIX ROAST ORGANIC COFFEE BEANS THAT TASTE LIKE HOME—and forcing himself not to get instantly sucked back into that particularly vexing nightmare, while also trying his best to angle the screen away from Stiles who, if he saw, would fall off the sofa laughing at Derek's admittedly pathetic research skills.

Not everybody is a… Technophile? Cyberpunk? Derek has no fucking clue about any of this shit.

With Stiles now passing comment on the aesthetic qualities of the Apology Leaf, Derek uses both index fingers to tap out the words of the thing he wants to look up, taking no notice of Stiles who is trying his annoying not-very-best to smirk at Derek's sorry efforts in Derek's periphery. Clicking through a few different links, this time Derek manages to find what he's after without any trouble, amazingly. He then hands the laptop over to Stiles, who carefully places the leaf down on the arm of the sofa beside him before fully taking the computer from Derek.

Stiles purses those pretty lips of his as he scans the information on screen, squinting a little.

“Uh, well yeah. It's like you said, Der; It's a leaf. From a Yew, according to this.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Your mother's ghost is infinitely more clever than you.” Stiles's squint deepens further. “Stiles, she is absolutely spot on about this. Just—scroll down the page a bit, dumbass,” and he ducks his head and smiles, seeing as accusing Stiles of Internet-related Dumbassery is really fucking funny because, irony.

Stiles tuts but does as he's told.

Derek gives him a minute to read the passage on the website he found. It says:

The Yew tree can live for many, many years. It has deep connections with magic and the universe. It was regarded as the protector of the soul by the ancient Greeks. You’ll find this tree planted at many burial sites throughout the world as it’s recognized as a guardian of the dead.

It is believed that Odin (from the Nordic legend) hung himself from the Yew for nine days and nights. It’s symbolic of its everlasting and regenerative properties and is often associated with transformation and change after a difficult time. The Celtic tradition honours the Yew tree for symbolising death and rebirth.

Stiles is smiling this gorgeous, open smile by the time he's finished reading, and Derek makes an unrealistic wish to be able to keep it there forever.

“So, you were right,” Derek says, “when you said that she knew. You were just a little mixed up about what, is all.” Derek takes another deep breath. “What your mom knows is that you got the chance to begin again, Stiles. After all the shit we went through, you actually got to start over. With somebody who will absolutely protect your soul with their life.”

Stiles suddenly blinks furiously, like somebody just threw salt in his eyes.

“And you knew it, that she knew... something,” Derek smiles back, lovingly, before that smile turns a little wry. “It's just that you were kind of—now, how should I put this…?”

“No. Do not do it!” Stiles shouts—instantly catching on because he'd easily be the brightest bulb in any box—and he's pointing again, at Derek this time. “Puns are my stupid thing, you charlatan, and I can and will sue!” he warns, outraged yet smiling again as he wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“—barking up the wrong tree,” Derek finishes, his smile now positively wolfish.

Stiles shakes his head and narrows his eyes, but he's chuckling, too as he says, “You do remember that it's you who's the canine in this relationship, right, 'wolf? If anybody's going to be making barking sounds, it's you.”

“Speciesist,” Derek quips.

Stiles pokes his tongue out. Then he's quiet for a few seconds (but definitely no more than fifteen).

“You know, I really was wrong when I said you deserve better than me. We actually absolutely deserve each other, Hale. Because it turns out we are both humongous assholes.”

After a moment, Derek grins more.

“Well, I would have answered that with I love my asshole, but you had to go and use the word humongous, and there's no way I would say that about my asshole—even though I would have technically been talking about you when I said it, seeing as it's actually you that is my favourite asshole.” And he pulls a rare, goofy face, just for Stiles, who laps it up. “Also, thinking about it, I would also have to say that loving my actual asshole is, in fact," he points at Stiles, “your job.”

Stiles dramatically slaps a hand over Derek's mouth.

“Oh my God, Derek, stop! My ghostly mother could be listening in to us right now! Jeez, dude, have a little decorum, won't you?!” And if Stiles saying that isn't ironic, Derek really doesn’t know what is.

“Sorry, mom!”

Grinning even more, Derek pushes Stiles's hand away from his face.

“Hey, wanna know the coolest thing?” he asks.

“Why in the name of anything sacred did you bother posing that as a question, Der? Like, when would I ever say no to that?”

Derek leans over and kisses Stiles again, soft and languid this time. The boy's lips are dry and warm and he tastes just like autumn.

Stiles hums and smiles into Derek's mouth as if he really, truly does love Derek.

After another glorious moment, Derek pulls back, looks at Stiles and says, “Yew trees aren't even native to this part of California.”

for @greyhavenisback my beloved <3 sorry i'm a dipshit, douche, massive ass-hat and a total loser, sometimes xp

(i got the info on tree symbolism HERE btw)

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elslovers · 1 year

Note

ok listen listen listen- reader is super irritated (for wtv reason u want) and abby notices after how every little thing is getting under ur skin n eventually u just lash out/ give roommate!abby hella attitude bc you can’t help it and you js need abby to comfort u (defo not self reflection)

HAVE ME

roommate!abby x reader

summary : reader is stressed beyond belief and every little thing that is said or done only serves to push them closer to their inevitable meltdown - luckily roommate!abby is there to support them through it <3

the fan whirls beside you and the sound is like nails on a chalkboard why was it so hot all the time? why did you decide to move to California in the first place?

your hands were shaking over the keys of your laptop the blue light straining your eyes you could feel the tears forming before your mind ever knew you were about to cry

it was all just too much for you to handle you’d always been a nurturing person it’s just who you are your brain has always been hardwired to take care of people - and all you ever do is take care of people your friends lives were a disaster every last one of them Jesse and Dina have found themselves in this over dramatic will they won’t they relationship and every time they decide they will not your left to pick the shards for both of their bruised hearts and ellie - ellie can’t commit to a major let alone a girlfriend which is always causing problems in one way or a other because her favorite of women? ones in relationships

you were always there

holding their hand making sure they stayed stable stayed all together without you they would all fall apart and you knew it

but you have always been prisoner to your own mind and college was surly no different you felt like an alien among the human always second guessing every move you made every word you spoke it was exhausting feeling unsure every second of every day you surrounded yourself in people and their problems but at the end of the day you were alone and you knew it

Abby was aware of this mood to say the absolute least it was downright impossible to ignore

you threw open your bedroom door a resounding huff exhaling from your lips as your slippers muffled the stomps of your feet leading into the kitchen - this was bordering on a temper tantrum and you were to worked up to feel as embarrassed as you should be

you opened the cabinet eyes scanning furiously through the display of mugs the two of you had collected only to find your favorite one dirty disregard in the bottom of the sink

this was the final nail in the coffin of your day

you let a small sob echo through your chest head hanging down in defeat lip starting to tremble as you wrapped your arms around yourself like a wall of protection

you could already here the sound of heavy footsteps and that only served to make your tears flow harder and faster then before your whole body trembling and face red by the time abby reached you

“oh…oh shit…”

her voice was cautious as she approached you the sight of you here now sobbing in the kitchen in the same shirt you wore yesterday and the day before draped off of you like a security blanket only confirmed what she’d been worried about for weeks now

your breakdown was invitable

Abby knew how exhausted you were really how could she not your major was demanding to begin with but the pressure you placed on yourself was greater then any work load could ever be she has often found you knees tucked to your chest at the kitchen table laptop nuzzled under your finger tips as you threatened to burn holes into the keys with one hand and guzzled coffee from your special mug with the other

but she also knew your major and personal pressures weren’t the only thing edging you closer to this spiral

your friends weren’t bad people by any means but she saw how much you took care of everyone bringing them home when they got too drunk which was too often for her liking- she didn’t mind the people more so the way it forced you to be the sober responsible one - the one who never cut loose so everyone else could it never sat right with her

she didn’t like the late night calls - almost every night because Dina couldn’t get her shit together not became the noise kept her up but because it all kept you up being everyone’s therapist seemed to be your main purpose

and that never sat right with her

because if your running around taking care of everyone who the hell is taking care of you? no one it seemed

but abby was going to change that if it killed her

she’s been trying slowly but surely you aren’t eager to accept her help to let her clean up after you for a change to let her to cook for you because god knows you aren’t eating enough to

but tonight it was clear to her you needed more you didn’t need her small acts of kindness

you needed her

“hey hey hey…”

her voice cooed as she made her way over to your trembling figure

“we’re gonna breathe together okay love? in with me…one…two…three…now it out”

you follow her words like gospel respecting the steps until the shaking slowly starts to slip through the cracks allowing the embarrassment to slip in

you must seem so weak

“fuck… i’m sorry- to interrupt you or whatever i’m fine really i’m good-“

you attempt to wave her off regardless of the tears flowing down your face

but it’s clear your attempt failed when her hands firmly grab your waist attempting to guide you over to the couch

alarm bells of every shape size and color are sounding off in your mind all you can think is how weak you seem how Abby can’t unsee this from here on out you’ll be her weak sad mentally unstable lonely roommate who could never be anything more

and then everything in boils over

“get the fuck off of me? okay? I don’t need- this I don’t need your stupid fucking pity”

you watch as abby’s eyes grow wide a small hint of hurt registering across her stoic face your heart is telling you to knock it off to fall into what you crave more then anything right now

her comfort

but you can’t seem to tell your mind to be quiet

“I don’t- I don’t need this or you or anyone I don’t need my fucking roommate treating me like some goddamn baby- is how you get your girls? wait for them to me all small and weak and cry over a goddamn coffee mug then you swoop in all strong and stoic and try and save them? well fuck off abby because it isn’t going to work”

you heard yourself saying all these mean things you wanted to stop but it all felt so distant all the rage projecting onto the one person in this world who really didn’t deserve it

your relationship with Abby has straddled the boundary between platonic and something more since you moved in

it was natural by now

you liked the blurred lines the hand on your hip before her dates the winks when you step out of the shower the cheeky comments just to make you blush before class

but right now it all felt to much

you were everything to everyone else in your life when all you wanted to be was everything to her

and now you feared you may become nothing to her at all

not a friend not a lover not a companion

just a roommate

but abby wasn’t letting that happen

she knew you you’d spend months cohabitating to think she didn’t was foolish on your part you let things build you let the pain get so big and so unmanageable it had now where to go but out

she’s seen you do it in traffic or to yourself in the mirror and it was only a matter of time before she ended up on the receiving end and it seemed today was the day

but Abby was strong she’s handled worse then a broken girls broken words

so she grabbed a little harder bringing your back against her chest the feeling of her firm muscles relaxing you upon contact

“listen to me when I tell you you aren’t going to push me away - never - you can yell and scream and freak out and i’m gonna be here every time dragging you to the couch and forcing you to let me make it better so stop this bullshit and go”

her voice was cold but tender and somehow exactly what you needed to make the tears stop and your muscles unfreeze moving over to your shared couch

she pulled your body into hers not caring about boundaries not caring about space not caring about anything but you

“it’s hard isn’t it darling? caring for everyone all the time…”

her lips were against your ear and you were half in her lap eyes fluttering shut as she wrapped her arms around you

you didn’t care if you regretted this in the morning

you needed it now

“I see how much you run yourself thin for everyone always making sure everyone’s safe and stable dealing with dina’s endless bullshit and ellie’s brothel…”

you and her let out the same small laugh your head resting down on her shoulder the small of her neck fitting your chin perfectly

“cant be easy right baby?”

she let the name slip before she could sending guess it and much to her relief you let out a small content sigh nodding your head against the fabric of her tank top

“oh I know- but i’ve got you.. right now right here you know have to be anything more then what you are…i’ve got you”

you didn’t know how much you needed this until you had it

the comfort the safety of her words it was enough to confirm what you’d always thought may be true

you’d fallen for abby - and it seems she’d fallen for you

you prayed to be right as you lifted your head gently from her shoulder lips grazing along abby’s as you spoke

“you have me.”

#abby anderson x reader #roommate!abby #tlou fic #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson

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fountainpenguin · 27 days

Text

Rewatching A New Wish - "Stanky Danky" & "Peace of Pizza"

SDLKFJSDKLFJS, I missed that the news channel refers to Dale as "Billionaire non-philanthropist."

I missed that Hazel actually did wish "people would stop being trash monsters," but Cosmo and Wanda only heard "I wish trash monster"... In my memories, she had a nightmare about a monster that they wished to life. This is funnier because I can't really blame Cosmo and Wanda for granting that.

I like when Danky opens his lid one eyeball at a time. Also ?? his elbow pads?? He's a living dumpster and he wears elbow pads... He's safe...

Also, I've watched Dale's presentation a bunch of times because I think it's silly when he hops backwards, or kneels to talk to someone (This is what I was watching again today when I decided to take more notes).

He has some REALLY fun body language, including finger guns. I like his big-armed gestures. He really puts on a show and I think that's hilarious since he doesn't love being in front of people. But I don't know what I expected considering that he likes to dance when he's by himself.

I like that his logo here is a combination of the D for his name and two stripes like a dollar sign... which is interesting, because the logo people have on their phones is a D-squared for his alliterative name.

We do know he's advertising Dimmazon "in partnership with Dimmadome Global," so they're probably separate logos.

And I enjoy his baby talk and finger guns when he's talking to Danky later. I think I already commented this in my first-watch liveblog, but I like how Dale lures Danky in with a dog toy?? It's a squeaky bone. I have a hard time imagining this man going to the pet store, but ??

I missed the fact that he brought TWO single-use helicopters to the park... something is very wrong with him...

As much as I joke about Dale's extreme amounts of trauma, I hope he talks to Vicky like this-

- when they finally cross paths again so we can see where that gets him.

On the one hand, I think it would be hilarious if he had a complete mental breakdown because he's extremely messed up. On the other... Now that he's an adult, can he TALK to her like that??

Assuming he didn't panic when he saw her again, I feel like this is the natural direction for his character: smug and rubbing his success in her face.

I have to assume she'd wreck him since she yelled in "Operation: Birthday Takeback" about her dislike for him (That he was lazy, but went on to be rich and successful and never gave her a cut). She's unhesitatingly mean to Crocker because she doesn't have to keep up appearances around him...

But it would be funny. Against all odds, Dale is not an easily frightened man. He works hard, plunges into the unknowns with his wild risk-taking, and he's the smuggest boy... but he also has meltdowns on the floor when he loses money. I like that.

- Huh. I wonder if Timmy would've grown up to be a lot like Dale if he didn't have Cosmo and Wanda. I mean, Vicky pushed him around too. - I was gonna make a joke about how I think Dale should be as obsessive over Timmy as he is Hazel, but... It IS Dale who got himself out of his torment, not Timmy, so I guess not.

??? Tina's running every position at the news studio.

SKLDFJSLDFJSD, wait, Dale has a lemon slice, but he specifically has PINK lemonade, which he probably did not have to make considering Vicky never sold any in "Nectar of Odds"....... oh my gosh.

?? That might be another drink, but even if it is, I'm pretty sure that's a lemon?

Dale drinking lemonade despite banning Dev from drinking lemonade is the biggest "Rules for thee, but not for me" plot twist of all time... Oh I HATE HIM /affectionate.

oh my gosh, wait...

It's a LIME.

??? Somehow that is exponentially funnier. Tell us how you really feel.

His drink is very possibly a Paloma cocktail, made from grapefruit, lime juice, and tequila (No lemonade required, can be pink, and isn't weird to drink with ice cubes).

I like how both Dale and Dev like to slam dunk trash... even in different episodes... They are Related and live in the Same House...

I don't think I've said it yet, but I appreciate how the Dimmadome tower seems to reach impossibly high into the sky for no reason, considering Dale's statue seems to be the only thing inside it and the statue isn't that tall. It's a brilliant parallel of Doug's hat.

I particularly think it's funny when you see it on maps or in the distance of some scenes. It's just... there.

Geez. Say what you will about Dale, but he's a very hard worker who pulls things together INCREDIBLY fast. I mean... logically, I know him being a super hard worker who gets sucked into projects is his whole thing and that's why he's not there for Dev, but... ?? Holy one-man PR and marketing team running around this episode, Catman.

Lastly... apparently Dale likes to take over Dev's lounge when he's looking at profit charts, because that's where he's sitting when he has a meltdown about his stock dropping 5 million dollars... I mean, I guess it's both of their lounge, but you get me. And here's his thinking expression because it's funny:

Every time I watch a Dale episode, he gives me huge "Fandom's special boy" energy and I don't look forward to leaving my spoiler-free zone and possibly finding out that is Not True... skldfj. Look at him. He clicks his finger guns and slam dunks and he's getting by on fragments of his soul. We get him for free.

Notes from "Peace of Pizza" I thought of when I went to fetch Dev's trash scene

This vampire at Versaille:

Strat and Oppy change expressions during flashbacks, but Closer's the same... I don't know what I expected.

So ?? I keep going back to this scene because... I swear that's the April Fool, Flappy Bob, and the Sandman... Maybe not Flappy, but the only other clowns I can think of are his parents and Bobo, and none of them fit this either and Flappy already had a cameo in "1500 Minutes of Fame," so they're very aware of him. I'm gonna check.

That's such an interesting choice of characters to use as models?? I don't have anything to say about it.

Hazel specifically wished for Dev to have "extra milk he could share" for kindness day. He ends up with two (Cosmo and Wanda), but he didn't even have one milk carton on his tray because he's lactose intolerant, so... he didn't pick one up to begin with.

And we KNOW that, because he's on the way to the trash can when people stop him to talk. Also, during the close-up you can see he didn't eat his broccoli or carrots and I think that's funny.

?? So, in my 'fic worldbuilding, people generally go along with wishes if they're affected by them unless something REALLY tips them off that something's completely wrong. I like the implication that Dev instantly went on guard because he was confused as to how he suddenly had milk.

Oppy only pretends to be sad when Dev turns to look at him... He is the Optimism Captain to his core...

Strat is once again putting his hand on Oppy's shoulder... they are brothers... he loves him...

why were they even allowed to run around the school and bother children... why was no one supervising the billionaire's kid and questioning the intentions of these mysterious adults hovering around him...

Stackable:

It is their natural state of being... Also, from a budget standpoint, identical triplets whose distinguishing feature is their eyes & who are based on peas so they're simple to design was a brilliant Season 1 move. I hope we see them again someday, though I'm completely fine with them being very rare appearances.

?? Hazel has Class 104 after Guzman's class ("Multiverse of Jenkins") and Dev has it after lunch, is that what I'm getting here?

That is a different design than the other Room 104... oh :'D I guess they only have the one sign model.

Y'know........ that WOULD be weird if Flappy was at that treaty in the flashback. That doesn't seem likely... but it stresses me out that the Pe-Az have a magical briefcase that can hold large items without harming them...

... because Flappy's briefcase ALSO does that. He keeps his clown stuff, dioramas, and employees in there. It's the world's worst conspiracy... The intergalactic diplomats, friends of the Pixies who are all about paperwork and neutrality and raised Flappy... I'm connecting the dots...

omg, do you think the Pe-Az are the reason Fairies and Anti-Fairies decide who gets the godkids with an annual bake-off? They do like their treats. That WOULD be fun to work with in my war & truce 'fics. Oppy: Everyone loves cake and brownies! Strat: Brother, the Fairy King literally just lost his castle and son. Isn't celebrating with treats a bit insensitive? Oppy: Listen, I have one job in this team and I'm going to do it. Their ancestors, anyway.

I don't think I said this in my first watch, but I really like Closer. He's fantastic. Shows up, selectively mute because he's saving his voice for when he needs to throw tantrums and asking the same question repeatedly to bug people, super thoughtful and well-prepared, considered the best at what he does, gets meme'd on by a 9-year-old iPad kid and loses everything. Flawless character.

He's one of my favorites in all New Wish. They all are; I love their dorky shorts and brotherhood.

I really like how Closer insists he'll be done with negotiations in "30 minutes or less" because his whole thing is pizza. But Dev broke this man in like, 20 seconds:

BROKEN HEART!!!

Also, Strat... <3 He's such a ping-pong ball of a person.

For some reason, it's funny to me their language is themed around arrows. That's brilliantly clever for a negotiating species; it kind of reminds me of how the Yugopotamian language is in swirls patterned after their exposed brains.

Also, Some Three Guys having the ability to simply "turn pizza off" for the entire world is such an insane plot set-up and I think they played it perfectly.

Oppy kicking up his leg & Closer's expressions:

Extremely funny to me that when I heard "pea pod aliens," I went on immediate defensive expecting "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" vibes, but they're just cute little guys who like treats and bribery. why do they dress Like That... The suits and ties, the teeny shorts, the white socks pulled high above black shoes... did they get picked on in school?

??? They're just one-offs, but they have so much character and they all have unique body language and speech patterns... love that for them. I want to write something for them. I have no clue what, but I think they deserve to be children negotiating on the playground or looking after one another.

Strat and Oppy I think I can get their vibe as children - the planner and the enthusiastic one - but little kid Closer would be interesting.

What's a good thing to negotiate over when you're a kid... Were they kiddos who made graphs and presentations while arguing over which TV channel to watch or who would bathe first, y'think?

I think "baby Pe-Az in the bathtub" is exactly the type of content people follow me for.

Wanda's face here cracks me up...

... and shout-out for Dev getting instantly weirded out with stranger danger when Cosmo pats him.

I love how when the O-pairs pick the Pe-Az up by their heads and put them down again, Closer's dizzy and he sways back and forth even though his brothers are fine... lmao. I guess people don't usually mess with him?

Also, when Dev switches from playing around to serious talk, all three Pe-Az instantly put their folded hands on the table. They are ready for a Meeting...

That is all.

#Dale Dimmadome owner of Dimmadome Global #Riddle watches FOP #A New Wish #FAIRIES!#Stanky Danky #Peace of Pizza #screenshots #Pending Hazel tag #Dev Dimmadome owner of anguish #Dragonfly parents #Long post #videos #New Wish spoilers

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thottyimagines · 8 months

Note

Who in Naruto would stand on business and not text their ex or situationship back and who actually would

ABSOLUTELY texting their ex:

Naruto, which is canon, I think. I've little knowledge of Boruto, but I'm pretty sure he and Sasuke exchange carrier pigeons, like, all the time. Naruto would text an ex without any prompting, let alone texting them back.

Sakura has shockingly little self-esteem or respect or dignity when it comes to romance, and she's more than willing to entertain anyone interested in her who isn't a total uggo (re: Rock Lee and any other not-conventionally attractive suitor).

Deidara has no concept of boundaries or closure. He thinks he can just keep sending a stream of consciousness. If his ex ever texts him first, he's going to town on the diary entries sort of texts. He's opening his notes app and copying and pasting all the weird poetry he's been writing since the break up.

Sasuke, but ONLY if it's Naruto.

Kakashi wouldn't text an ex back, but if he got a text, he'd show up in person and just...see what happens.

Choji wouldn't know how to not text back, because he'd feel mean, given their shared history. It's anyone's guess as to whether or not he still has romantic intentions.

Rock Lee is texting back with pleasure. A splendid new friend out of the ruins of romance has emerged!

Hashirama and Madara. Just...just look at them.

Jiraiya, in hopes of a booty call coming out of it.

Tempted, but should pull through:

Ino would love to text back just for the drama, but has a healthy amount of self-respect. If there's no reason to reconcile, there's no reason for her to talk, she can sadly admit.

Hinata would, ordinarily, want to text back, but she might just get too stressed and her teammates could find her in time to rebuke the ex's efforts.

Similarly, Itachi has poetry at the ready to send through, but Kisame might just eat his phone to prevent the Young Adult Meltdown that would ensue.

Hidan, if his feeling are well and truly hurt enough, wouldn't text back. But...well, he might show up to their location and give Jashin a real good day.

Kurenai went years without Asuma showing his face, whilst he was running around defying his father, so she should be fine ignoring the siren song of an ex text. But then...

Oh, Neji has paragraphs upon paragraphs to send living right there in his notes app, but he shan't. He won't. He'll just send them rancid vibes whenever they encounter one another in public for life.

Not texting back:

Shikamaru hasn't the energy to entertain this. Things ended for a reason, and he shan't make himself miserable doing a back and forth in the aftermath. Blocked.

Kiba's sister won't let him text his exes back. She blocks them on his phone as soon as the break up happens. Kiba has no idea they tried to reach out.

Asuma has no interest in texting unless it's for a booty call.

Gaara is too afraid of his wounded pride unleashing the monster within, so he doesn't entertain highly emotional interactions like this.

Kakuzu is straight up tracing the text back to his ex and turning them in for bounty, no matter how meager it is.

Shino agonizes over it, but he prevails.

Tenten talks it over with Neji, who just beats up her ex for her instead.

Genma has deleted their number as soon as they stopped hooking up. Who dis?

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homoeroticbetrayal · 2 years

Text

Iconic Homerotice Betrayals: Round 3

Poll Directory

Context:

Akechi/Joker

Summarized by Anonymous Contributor

Ok so Akira(you the player) are the leader of a group of thieves (who are doing good for society) but there are more sinister things happening that also get attributed to your group.

Enter Akechi the famous charismatic detective who’s declared that he will catch you(you can probably already guess where this is going) When you first meet him it is already clear that something is very wrong under that obviously fake smile. Under your civilian identity you befriend him and slowly(or rather fast) he opens up to you showing more of his true self and what pains his heart. Even disclosing sensitive information that could bring him down. Of course this is all just lies he made up to get close to you right? Nope.

You see the betrayal coming from miles ahead. Not only does he betray you, he’s been the real culprit all along.

Despite knowing this loooong ahead you still take him on little gay dates to the aquarium, public bathhouse, pretending to shoot eachother, a café or try to impress him with your amazing darts skills. You may even willingly make wrong choices just for his approval (I did gdi Akechi I trusted you.) And when you come home he's already waiting for you.

After you survive him gleefully shooting you through the head(it makes sense in context) you meet again he admits that he wishes you’d have met earlier, confirming that your bond was genuine, that you could’ve been friends/partners(? It’s complicated) and he really meant it when he said you’re the only one he feels at ease with. But not without having a truly unhinged meltdown about it first, vehemently rejecting your offer to still be friends and turn over a new leaf. (so after he's attempted to kill you at least 2 times and is gearing up for making it 3)

Akechi betraying you is as much a betrayal of himself as it is one of you.

Bonus points:

other characters comment on you being the only one close to him

during one rank he confesses to you…. His hate?

as previously mentioned, your relationship ranks up after he shoots you in the head(you survive, it make sense in context)

he himself compares his betrayal of you to romance(yes after shooting you through the head). On live tv. In the same moment he reminds himself how he’s felt unwanted his entire life, like a reminder he killed the only person who ever made him wanted.

At the end you have the choice to stay in a perfect world where he is alive and never underwent any of the pain in his life turning him into a wholly different person, or let him die(again) as his true self. If you pick the former you can return the betrayal.

*vague description it’s complicated.

Read other summary here.

Homura/Madoka

Summary by Anonymous Contributor

This is the story of 3 betrayals :

1. Madoka and Homura meet and become best friends. Madoka believes in love and justice and helping people as a magical girl. But she gets killed. So Homura, loving her and believing in her cause, becomes a magical girl in order to time travel and save Madoka. Eventually, however, they find out they were being tricked all along, and none of what they thought they were fighting for is real. And this is BETRAYAL NUMBER 1: They've agreed to give up and just die/become monsters Together, when suddenly Madoka sacrifices herself to save Homura. As she is dying in Homura's arms she tells her she has a selfish goal: "you can travel in time, right ? Go back in time and warn me, stop me from getting tricked and becoming a magical girl."

2. So Homura goes back in time and tries to warn Madoka and their friends, but no one believes her. She can't save Madoka from her fate. So she time travels, again and again and again, trying desperately to save Madoka and failing every time, and becoming more and more estranged from her with every timeline. By the time we get to the timeline we know, she's done it so many times that she's become a stranger to Madoka, but Homura has become cold and hardened. It doesn't matter if Madoka doesn't love her anymore, all that matters is saving her. In the end, Homura's time travel has tied the strings of fate around Madoka so much, that Madoka bcomes the most powerful magical girl of all time and is able to essentially become a god, and rewrite the rules of the universe. She's created a better world, but at the cost of erasing her own human existence. Now no one will remember her except for Homura. As they are hugging naked in the cosmos, saying goodbye as the universe rewrites itself, Homura expresses how devastated she is by this turn of events. Madoka has saved her from the time loop she was in, but has sacrificed herself, and thereby Homura has failed to keep her promise of saving her. This is BETRAYAL NUMBER 2: Homura now has to live without Madoka, and all hope of keeping her promise to save her is lost.

3. And so we arrive at BETRAYAL NUMBER 3, the one they're most famous for : Homura tricks Madoka, and steals her godhood. Homura becomes the devil and undoes everything Madoka has fought for just to save Madoka and let her have a human existence, because she loves her that much. It's the ultimate betrayal because she destroys everything Madoka sacrificed herself for, she refuses to let her make the world better because selfishly, she loves Madoka so much she wants her to be able to exist.

#akeshu #homumado #homura akemi #madoka kaname #akechi goro #akira kurusu #p5 #pmmm rebellion #pmmm #p5r #polls

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seenoversundown · 3 months

Text

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Five

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (fem OC)

Warnings: Anxious Themes (includes a Comforting scene), Mild Meltdown (I don't want to say a panic attack because it isn't really) Mentions of Grieving, the most brief mention of funerals, silly&friendly bullying, drinking/alcohol (we know the drill), Fluff oh the fluff, & Jake yearns a little more (shocking).

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: After caving and finally asking for help, Jake doesn't know what to do with himself until she shows up. Which takes a big ol' turn for ... well, I guess we will find out, won't we? 🤭

Author's Note: If we're being completely honest, this was the first chapter I wrote, of this story. I knew exactly how I wanted this day to go and I couldn't stop myself when I thought of the idea. It's what fueled the bulk of the storyline and I really hope you guys love it as deeply as I do. 🥹

Clocks Go Forward - James Bay "Stay warm, close your eyes, let time fly, Stay close, stay right here, nothing to fear."

I slide my phone back into my pocket. Staring at it isn’t going to make her reply, Jake. I’ve been at the bar trying to figure out this paperwork for a while, and well, I’m lost. My hands keep finding their way to the back of my head as I read through these documents; I need to focus on something else.

“Hey, how are you?” I say in passing some day-time regulars of ours. I collect any empty cans or glasses that I can, anything to keep me busy at this rate.

I wander behind the bar, setting all the glasses in the dirty bin.

“Jake.”

I look over to Josh, who’s wiping out a glass.

“Why don’t you just go get some lunch or something? You’re stressing me out being here.”

“Is it really that bad?” I ask, running my hand through my hair.

A laugh erupting from him says enough.

“Okay, alright, I’ll leave you alone,” I tell him, “Just let me know if you need anything.”

Reluctantly sitting back down at the desk in my office, I find myself with my head in my hands for a moment. You’re going to be okay. You’re new at this, and it’s okay to mess up. She’s giving you time to take care of everything.

After a deep breath or two, I opened my laptop and pulled up my email. I decided that maybe spending some time doing mindless admin work would help distract me from the inevitable problem.

I’m flying through these emails by humming along to whatever customers have chosen for the jukebox. Looking at the time in the top corner, 2:30 pm.

She still hasn’t replied. Maybe she’s working with someone else right now; just be patient.

I walk back into the bar, seeing a handful more people come in. I wave slightly to the regulars who like to camp out in the corner. They enjoy sneaking away from work for a few hours; “Lunch beers” is apparently what they call it. I laughed the first time they told me about it, but as they continued the tradition, I understood it more and more.

Looking to the corner of the bar, I see Quinn. I can’t help but watch the two of them for a minute with a grin plastered on my face. Seeing my brother so happy makes my heart swell daily, and Quinn is perfect for him; I can’t deny it. They just know how to handle him and reign him in when he’s being a bit too much. Which is more often than not.

“Do you two want to go grab lunch?” I ask, slinking my arm around Josh’s shoulders, “I think I can handle the rowdy folk we have here.” I shoot a wink at the few customers sitting next to Quinn.

His eyes light up, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Let’s go, bug!”

I don’t think he could have left any quicker if he tried. Immediately, hand in hand with Quinn, and practically pranced out of the bar.

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“And a squirrel fell down my chimney into my fireplace!”

I nod with a quiet “mhm,” glancing at my phone hidden under the bar. 3:15 pm. I'm trying to look interested in this story I’ve heard a few times. The older gentleman talking to me forgets that he’s told me the majority of the tales he has in his arsenal. But I don’t want to cut him off; he seems lonely, and the least I can do is humor him.

Hearing the door chime, followed by Josh making his entrance.

“Welcome back,” I chuckle as he walks swiftly towards the bar.

“I need to use the lavatory, and then I will be ready to rock ‘n roll or whatever kids say nowadays,” Josh mutters.

You would think he’s nine hundred years old with how he talks sometimes, but it always keeps me on my toes. Watching as he disappears around the corner, I grab the older man’s glass and place it in the dirty bin.

The door chime goes off again, causing my head to whip around.

Oh, she’s here..?

As Charlotte slowly walks to the bar, I go to meet her at the opposite corner. I pull my phone out; she never replied?

“I didn’t think I would see you today,” I start as she approaches. Leaning down to grab everything I had been looking at, I stowed away when I couldn’t focus anymore.

“I have been reading through all of these, and I think you’re gonna need to explain these to me like I’m five–” I stop. I hadn’t looked at her face the entire time, and her eyes were pink and looked a bit swollen. She’s not making eye contact at all, which seems odd compared to the other afternoon, where I thought if she held my gaze any longer, I would explode. Was she crying? I questioned myself. I hope I didn’t cause this. Was she supposed to be off today? Oh my god, what if I’m the only reason she’s working?

Finally pulling myself out of my head, “Are you okay?”

She takes a shallow breath before looking up at me, and I can see that her eyes are fighting the urge to let the tears fall.

“Um,” she swallows, looking back down, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her raspy voice is so quiet I can barely hear it. Her lip quivers as she stands there, and I can see the way her breathing is picking up. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

I hear the door to the bathroom open. Turning around, I shoot Josh a look. He makes eye contact with me as I bounce my eyes to Charlotte and back to him. I watch as he glances at her quickly, his eyes widening as if to say, ‘Do what you need to.’

I come out from behind the bar, grabbing her bag from the barstool it sat on.

“Come with me,” I whisper to her; she just nods in response.

I gently place my hand on her back, guiding her down the hall to my office. Just long enough to round the corner into the small room, she lets out the tiniest whimper I’ve ever heard. I toss her bag onto the chair, facing her as she finally breaks down. Her hands fly up to hide her face as she lets out the most heartbreaking sound. One sob was enough for me; I pushed the door closed behind her and pulled her into me.

“Oh, honey,” I let slip out, holding her small frame tight against me as she cried. I listen to her sobs against my chest as I run my hand down the back of her head, holding her close. I close my eyes to help focus my breathing; being in these situations never gets easier and I’ll never understand how I always end up in them.

“Take a breath for me,” I said quietly, trying to stay calm for her. I can feel her take a deep breath and shakily release it. Her arms drop from her face, finding their way around my back. Grabbing at my shirt gently, like she’s afraid I'll let her go.

“I’m right here. Take your time,” I whisper, pressing my lips gently to the top of her head, “You’re okay.”

We spend a few minutes like this. I keep rubbing slow circles on her back, resting my face against the top of her head to keep her tucked in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. I feel her shake her head ‘no’ before turning her face and leaning back against me, reaching up to push the hair out of her face. She lets out another shaky breath.

“I‘m so sorry,” she mumbles into me.

“Don’t apologize for having emotions.”

I lean back to look at her, her breathing starts to feel more normal.

She looks tired.

I don’t know what comes over me when I reach up, holding either side of her face and gently wiping the tear stains on her cheeks away.

Our eyes finally met; she really was beautiful— crying or not.

Her gaze doesn’t falter, her green eyes locked on me. She almost makes me nervous, not in a mean or intimidating way, but like I shouldn’t be allowed to look at someone who looks like her.

“Do you want to um-” I hesitate, “go get something to eat? While we talk about things. Not like a d-”

Despite her watery eyes, she huffs out a laugh.

“Stop,” she says, “I know what you mean. Yes, let’s do that.”

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We walked into the restaurant, and considering it’s only 4 p.m., it’s not very busy. I let her pick where we sit, following behind as she chose. She had a soft smile on her face as she claimed the booth seat like she just won a prize.

“Hi, can I please have a Boulevardier? ” Charlotte politely orders, my eyebrows raised at her choice.

“Actually, I’ll take the same thing,” I tell them, “Thank you.”

Charlotte pulled out the paperwork, flipping through it to see what I had left. Watching her green eyes flit across them, setting aside anything that needs more attention. The way that she chews the inside of her lip while she’s reading is endearing.

“Okay, so you haven’t missed too many things.” She tells me.

“Oh good,” I start picking at my lip, “I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize how much was involved.”

“That’s alright, Jacob. It’s a lot, and nobody generally explains this part of business to you.” Normally, I would cringe at my full name being used, but I just want her to keep saying it.

She pulled out one of the papers and turned it to face me. She pointed at the part I hadn’t filled out.

“So essentially, this means–” She begins explaining. Her eye contact is intense while she talks, which makes it incredibly hard to focus. I feel myself slowly smiling as she’s telling me. I glance at her mouth quickly, making it even more challenging to pay attention.

“What?”

Damnit. I raised my eyebrows with a small ‘mmm’.

“You looked like you wanted to say something?” She questions.

“Oh, I’m sorry– no, I was just listening.” There are a lot of things I could say.

“Oh– Well, anyway,” she shakes her head a little before continuing to explain.

I really wish that I could tell you what she’s explained to me at this point, but to be completely honest, I have no clue. I’ve been far too distracted by the freckles on her nose and the way her eyes twinkle under these lights. I can’t get over the green of her eyes, with subtle gold flecks in them. Her hair is perfectly curled, and how the color of it stands out against her blazer. She is unreal.

“Are you planning on doing that?” She asks, immediately pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Great, Melody will really benefit from that,” she tells me. Benefit from what exactly?

“Do you need me to send you the information on that?” she quickly asks, grateful I’ll at least have context on what I’m agreeing to.

“Please, if you could,” I say quietly as I rub my eyes.

Our server stopped our conversation to take our order, giving me a second to try and refocus myself. She is trying to help you and isn’t being an asshole about it. The least you can do is pay attention to what she’s actually saying. Get it together.

“Okay anyway,” she starts again, “I think that’s everything?” She sifts through the papers.

“Amazing,” I breathe out. “I’m sorry I made you come out here to help.” I sit back in my chair, my hands falling into my lap, where I quietly dig at the side of my thumb.

“No, it’s okay, really,” she says, not making eye contact this time. “I was already in Portland, so it worked out.”

Her eyebrows pulled together as she told me, but I knew I shouldn’t ask. If she wanted to tell me what was wrong, she would. I’m not going to make her cry again.

“Well, I’m glad I caught you at the right time then,” I say, offering a small smile. Her face softens a bit, and she leans forward, propping herself up.

“So, how long ago did you buy the bar if it’s not even a year old?”

“About two years ago, actually,” I tell her, “We took our time renovating it to feel right.”

“We?”

“All the boys helped me, but Josh really did the most with making it look the way it does.” I usually have no issue talking about the bar, but her being even vaguely interested has my brain stalling.

“I love that. He did a good job curating,” she says, “Was the goal to be pirate-esque, or did it just end up that way?”

I chuckle, “No, it was intentional. I’ve always enjoyed pirates, even as a kid, so I felt like it just made sense.”

“I think it’s nice that you made it your own. There are enough modern hipster bars in the area. It’s a refreshing thing to walk into.”

Her compliment made my heart beat a little harder. I’m never one to assume, but she doesn’t strike me as someone who would hang out in a bar like mine. Granted, I guess I can’t really picture her hanging out in bars in general, but maybe that’s because I have always been a fan of the smaller, more dive bars. And I can confirm that I’ve never seen someone of her caliber in any of them.

Once our food is brought out, I ask her about how she got into working for the state. We quietly chatted about some of the situations that she’d walked into, which unintentionally made me feel much better about my slip-up. But simultaneously, it made me realize how terrible men can be. I can’t imagine yelling at her regardless of what she told me. People are awful.

The server brings over the check, and without hesitation, I slide my card into the little black folder and hand it back to them with a quiet, ‘Thank you.’ I bring my attention back over to her, her eyes a little wide but going back to normal as she continues telling me about another bar owner being a complete ass.

I fill out the slip, leaving cash for the tip, before looking up at her.

“Ready?” I ask. She just nods a few times before sliding out of the booth. I wave my hand in front of me, “After you m’lady.”

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“So, how far do you live from here?” I try to make some form of small talk on the way back to her car, avoiding the elephant in the room.

“I live in Skowhegan, so it’s a little hike,” she tells me, looking around at the area’s architecture, “but my family has a house on Sebago Lake, so it’s not as bad when I have to come down here.”

“Oh, I'm sure it’s peaceful over there.” I imagine how quiet that lake house must be this time of year. With minimal people vacationing or trying to fish on the lake, and it’s probably gorgeous in the mornings.

“It really is,” she says, looking down at her feet for a second, “Do you live close?”

“I actually live above the bar,” I laugh every time I tell someone, “I know that probably seems ridiculous.”

“Convenient, at least,” She giggles softly before looking at me with a smile. Oh, I’m gonna throw up.

“It’s a blessing and a curse,” I tell her, “Blessing when you can just roll out of bed and run downstairs if you oversleep, but a curse when I find myself in there most days.. And nights.” Pointing at the crosswalk, nobody was coming; I placed my hand on the small of her back as I led her into the street, shit, carefully pulling my hand back as she stepped off the sidewalk.

“You don’t get sick of being there?”

“You would think so, but no. I love it, even if working with my brothers can be an absolute chore sometimes.” I tell her.

She grabs my arm gently.

“I think that’s great, Jacob. It’s refreshing to hear someone love their job in this industry. It’s few and far between.” I glance over at her as she says it; my stomach has little knots forming as she squeezes my bicep a few times before pulling her hand back.

She points to her car, parked just a short distance ahead of us. I see her pulling her keys from her bag as we approach it, unlocking the doors. I open her door for her, watching her face redden a little at the gesture. As she’s settling into her seat, I notice a brochure-looking paper in her passenger seat before realizing there’s a photo on the front. And a name. Oh my god, Charlotte. That’s why she was so upset.

Setting her bag down in front of the pamphlet, she turned back to me with a soft smile, “How much should I send you for food?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her.

“But, Jacob..”

“It was my idea. I’m not going to make you pay for that.” Also, it’s the least I can do, especially now.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Well, thank you for the food and walking me back here. I’m pretty sure I would have gotten lost.”

“Of course,” I tell her, “Drive safe.”

I go to close her door for her, and I don’t know what possessed me when I hesitate, “Actually—” what are you doing? “Let me know when you make it home? Just since it’ll be a little later.”

She nods subtly before saying, “Okay,” with a quiet laugh.

I bite at my bottom lip as I smile at her, gently shutting her door for her.

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“Now, where have you been?”

I haven’t even made it fully behind the bar, and I’m already getting harassed.

“It’s nice to see you too, Linda,” I laugh under my breath, “I had to take care of some paperwork, but I’m here now.”

Raising an eyebrow, she looks from me to my right, where Josh stands with a shit-eating grin. Oh, fuck me.

“And how was that paperwork, brother?” He says joyfully, emphasizing his skepticism with heavy air quotes.

And, here we go.

“The paperwork went well,” I side-eye him, “Thank you for asking.”

I watched the two of them share a look before looking back at me, and all I offered was a shrug in response.

“Why were you not in your office doing paperwork?” Linda questions as Eleanor joins her at the bar in their usual spots.

“Who wasn’t in the office?” Eleanor chimes in.

“Jake! He apparently went somewhere with someone to take care of paperwork,” Linda fills her in, like two school girls at lunch.

Rubbing my hand across my face, I turn around to dry some glasses while I’m interrogated further. I should have known my being nice to her would have me questioned.

“Well, that sounds like he went on a date,” Eleanor unknowingly agreeing with their past statements. Josh is the most enormous pain in my ass, I swear to god.

“It wasn’t a date!”

Josh laughed, “That sounds like something someone who went on a secret date would say.” I feel my body warm the more they talk about my “date.” WHICH WASN’T A DATE.

“Well, who paid?” Linda asks.

“Uhh… I did,” I hesitated to answer. “But- it was my idea to go there, so I didn’t want to make her pay anything.”

“Oh! You went with a girl?” Eleanor quietly questions.

“Yes, I needed help with some business stuff, and she was able to help me,” I tell her. “If she hadn’t come in so upset, I would have just been here the whole time.”

The ladies look at each other and then back at me before Eleanor pipes back up, “So what you’re saying is, I just need to come in here crying to score a date with you?”

A laugh falls out of me before I can even process what she’s said; at least someone has a sense of humor about all of this.

“That’s very nice of you to take her to lunch to try and help cheer her up, sweetheart,” Linda tells me. I smile at her compliment before putting away some of the glasses I had been drying. I feel Josh’s presence before he says anything, just setting some dirty glasses in the bin below the counter.

“Is she okay?” he whispers, leaning over to make sure nobody else heard.

“I don’t know, honestly,” I tell him, knowing I sound a little panicked about it.

“Did she say why she was upset?”

I shake my head ‘no’ before leaning over, “I saw one of those printouts you get at funerals in her car, and she was wearing all black, so I’m assuming that she uh—”

Josh covers his mouth and turns to look at me. If there’s one thing I know about my brother, it’s that he will absolutely empathize with anybody about anything.

“Oh shit,” he murmurs under his breath.

I can’t hide the look of concern on my face as we stare at each other for no more than a few seconds.

“She’ll be alright. You probably just caught a wave of grief, is all.” Josh says, grabbing my arm and giving it a few squeezes.

I let out a small breath. He’s right. She probably just hadn’t really let anything out, and I just asked the wrong question.

“You’re right,” I whisper back, patting the back of his hand on my arm, “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” But that isn’t going to stop me from worrying.

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Business picked up shortly after that, with all the tables full and chatter loud. It kept me from my thoughts, which is probably for the best. I’m grateful that Linda and Eleanor came in tonight; they always keep me busy.

I take small breaks from behind the bar to go check on the tables of people, collecting the empty glasses and bottles; sometimes, it’s nice to just mindlessly clean up. I spend a few minutes making small talk with some of the regulars, noticing the time as one of their phones lights up.

11:30 p.m. already? Where did the night go? I leave the table with a slight wave and head back to the bar to leave the dirty glasses. Setting them all on the back counter, I can tell Josh is caught up in whatever the ladies are telling him.

Rounding the corner into the hall, I quickly lock myself away in the bathroom. Pulling my phone out immediately, relief washes over me when I see her name sitting in my notifications. Thank god.

Charlotte: I made it home. Thank you again

Jake: I’m happy to hear that and of course

Jake: I hope everythings okay.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I head back into the bar. She’s home, at least there’s that.

“You can go if you want. I can handle the rest of the night,” I tell Josh quietly. He’s been here all day, and I definitely didn’t intend for him to cover the bar for that long.

“Are you sure?”

“Please, go get some sleep or call Quinn. Just get out of here while you can.”

He hands me the towel he was using and mouths ‘thank you’ as he slides by me; I really can’t blame him for being excited to go to bed. It’s been a long day.

The rest of the night seemingly flew by. A fair number of people, including Linda and Eleanor, left by 1 am, which meant I had to clock into my true Customer Service self for the last hour of the night. But it’s always nice when people start to trickle out early so that I can start cleaning up to close and make my life a little easier.

I’m leaning against the back counter talking to the last few customers, and I can’t help but let my mind wander. What if she’s still upset? There’s nothing I can do to help that situation, and that’s okay. Maybe she just needs a friend right now. I could do that? Or maybe she’s already told her friends, and Josh was right. Was she just having a moment? Oh god, what if she has a boyf-

My phone vibrates, pulling my attention away from my internal spiral. 1:57 a.m. Thank god.

Charlotte: It will be, i’m sorry that you had to witness that.

Jake: don’t apologize, i’m glad i was able to help..i hope?

Charlotte: It did help, truly.

That makes my heart feel a little weird. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

Jake: well.. if you need anything, let me know?

I set my phone down underneath the bar and started printing the tabs for the last customers who were sitting. I went through the motions as I put the papers out front of each of them with a pen. I watch as they sign on the line, possibly leaving a tip; either way, I’m not bothered. Leaving with a friendly ‘Have a good one,’ I follow behind them, locking the doors and shutting off the neon lights. Happy to know that I have hardly anything left to do.

The brisk air hits me as I lock the back door, and I practically run up the stairs. Opening the door, it’s quiet. He must be asleep then. I carefully walk through the apartment, cracking his door open to see him tucked away in bed.

“Goodnight, Josh,” I whisper, pulling his door shut gently.

I shut my door as softly as I could, immediately pulled my flannel off, and tossed it on the end of my bed. Followed by my jeans before I grab my phone from my nightstand. 2:34 a.m. I open my messages to see her name sitting there with the blue, unread messages dot glowing back at me.

Charlotte: I may take you up on that.

Why is she still awake? It’s so late.

Jake: I hope you do

Be more obvious, Jake, come on..

Jake: Also why are you still up? lol

It changes from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’ almost instantly. I watch the typing bubbles pop up, making my stomach turn.

Charlotte: I just haven’t been tired enough to sleep, but I think I’m getting there.

Jake: After everything, I figured you’d be exhausted

Charlotte: You would think lol

Dropping my phone next to me. I rub my hands down my face. Trying to get the look on her face just before she cried out of my mind. ‘I’m so sorry’ in her sad little voice, playing on a loop. The sounds of her sobs against my chest, her shaking in my arms. I almost wish that I didn’t know why she was upset now.

Jake: well don’t let me keep you up

This time, my message sat on delivered for a few minutes. I did my daily scroll on mindless apps and looked at the few new photos people had tagged the bar in before she replied.

Charlotte: You’re not a bother at all, but I should probably try to sleep before it gets too much later.

Charlotte: Goodnight Jacob

My mind ran through all the ways that I could reply. How I’d love to tell her that I’m sorry for her loss and that I hope everything gets better. Even that, I had a lovely time talking to someone outside of my family and their partners for more than a few minutes as I served them a beer. It felt like we could be friends even, with the way she didn’t seem phased by any of the vaguely nerdy things I said. Unfortunately, my hands settled on something more straightforward, and I quickly hit ‘send.’

Jake: sleep well, Charlotte

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Chapter Four

Chapter Six

FDOG Masterpost | Masterlist | FDOG Playlist

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qprstobin · 1 year

Text

home back to you - pt. 2

The long awaited part 2 of the Stomarol post-s2 fic! Tommy has an anxiety spiral and then is foiled by Steve's tiny bodyguards.

Pt. 1 | Ao3 Link

Minor TW: some ableist language, Carol and Tommy continue to be bitter towards Nancy and Jonathan, and basically the entire first part involves Tommy fighting off an anxiety attack.

For a moment, Tommy was so dizzy that he thought he might pass out.

This was his fault.

Tommy did this.

He’s the reason his ex best friend, the guy he- the guy who has- he’s the reason Steve was this banged up. The reason their season was likely ruined. The reason Steve missed school for a week.

He had just wanted Steve to look at him again.

Tommy waited until Steve was out of sight before blearily making his way towards the parking lot. The school was quiet, most of the clubs having been over and done with for the day by now. The only sounds were coming from the janitor a hallway over, the newspaper room, and his own heavy footfalls.

His mind was racing so fast that he was having trouble actually thinking. He tripped over the lip of the door leading outside and sighed gratefully as a burst of cold air hit him.

Carol was leaning against the side of his beat up pickup truck, inspecting her nails. The smack of her gum was audible even across the empty parking lot. Tommy could barely hear it over the ringing in his ears. When she saw him heading her way, a mean grin lit up on her face.

Normally, the look would get his heart pumping, but right now his heart was stuck in his throat.

“You’ll never guess who I just saw drive off together,” she said, glee and something like distaste at war on her face. Her chest was heaving, and Tommy let himself be distracted by her – everything for a moment, watching the rise and fall of the Hawkins H on her cheer uniform.

When he didn’t immediately say anything in response, she seemed to realize that something was wrong.

“Babe, are you okay?”

The concern leaking into her voice made Tommy feel hot. Anger started to drown out the panic coursing through his body.

Instead of answering her question, he snapped at her.

“Get in the car.” He wanted to get out of this godforsaken parking lot in front of this godforsaken school in this godforsaken town. “We can talk about it at yours.”

Carol stared at him, affronted. That was good – anything was better than the concern that made his skin itch . (Or, that’s what he told himself, at least.)

She glared at him for another moment before he finally snapped – “Get in the car!”

She made an offended noise high in her throat, but got in the car.

Tommy got in as well, slamming the door shut behind him in a way that had less to do with anger and more to do with the lock sticking.

They didn’t speak as he pulled out of the parking lot. He stared straight ahead, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. The silence was stifling, taking up more space than it should in the cab of his truck.

Finally, Carol couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I don’t know what crawled up your ass and died, but it does NOT give you the right to talk to me like that,” she told him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that she had crossed her arms and was glaring at him. A typical angry Carol pose.

Tommy forced himself to breathe, trying to release the anger and anxiety out of him in one long exhale. It kind of worked.

“You’re right,” he said, flexing his fingers against the wheel and shooting her a (hopefully) suitingly regretful look. “I’m sorry.”

Carol sniffed but settled more comfortably into her seat.

“Apology accepted.”

Silence fell over them again, but it was much warmer this time. She put her hand on his knee, and it was the most grounded that he felt all day.

“What was it you wanted to tell me earlier?” he asked eventually, as they got closer to her house. He was hoping to put off the inevitable meltdown he was going to have, wanting the easy distraction of high school gossip. She loved sharing gossip with him.

(Even if he wasn’t as good at dishing as Steve had been.)

( don’t think about Steve yet, don’t do it- )

But then she hesitated.

“I-” she started, surprising him. “Maybe it should wait.”

Tommy’s stomach cramped. She was still mad at him.

God, he just kept fucking shit up. Could he do just one thing right, and not take out his issues on his girlfriend?

“I said I was sorry, Carrie,” he pleaded, trying to keep his focus on not crashing instead of the pit opening up in his stomach.

“No, no, it’s not that. I know you’re sorry,” she said, trying to head off a more intense apology. He couldn’t see it but he could certainly hear the eye roll she just gave. “I just have a feeling that what I saw might be related.”

That-

That wasn’t much better.

“Let’s wait – like you said. We’re almost there.”

Tommy tightened his hands once more on the steering wheel. He didn’t really remember the rest of the short drive, arriving there on autopilot. His face felt like it was vibrating, pins and needles prickling along his jawline.

His ears were ringing again by the time he parked and made it into Carol’s house. Both her parents were out again – her father at some sort of meeting while her mother was at work. It really was crazy how many people he knew who had parents that were just never fucking there-

“Babe – Babe!”

His spiral was shattered by Carol’s hand on his face.

“Deep breaths,” she told him and he complied without protest. “Now drink this, and tell me what happened.”

A glass of water was shoved into his hand, which he drank dutifully in one long gulp. He accidentally slammed the empty glass down on the island when he was done, making himself wince.

“Steve’s back in school,” he started, flexing his hands against the edge of the counter. “You saw him earlier, yeah?” Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure the two had a morning class together.

“Yeah, I saw him this morning,” she replied casually as she popped a new stick of gum in her mouth. Tommy would’ve gotten annoyed if he didn’t know it was a nervous tick of her own. “Saw him after practice, too. Jonathan Byers was driving him home.”

That stopped him up short.

“Creepy Byers?” he exclaimed in shock. Some part of him registered that this is what she wouldn’t tell him in the car, what had gotten her so worked up after practice.

“Creepy fucking Byers,” she repeated, popping her gum for emphasis. “Like, bad enough they eat lunch together when he’s not hiding in the dark room, but now he’s giving him rides? What’s up with that? Especially since I definitely saw him kissing Princess Wheeler in the hallway on Friday.”

“Ugh, gross .”

“Right?!”

The two fell into a mutually put off silence. Carol had refilled his glass, and he was starting to feel more and more like a real person with every swallow.

“Is it true? Billy did that?” she asked finally.

Tommy’s breath stuttered. She didn’t have to clarify what ‘that’ was. He couldn’t speak, could only nod.

“Fuck,” she said under her breath, then louder, “Fuck! What a fucking psycho! Steve looks even worse than he did after Byers kicked his ass, and that creep beat his face into the pavement!”

His stomach cramped again and his hands were threatening to start shaking again. She kept talking, too caught up in her anger to realize that he was no longer following along.

“Like? Who does something like that? Why would he do something like that? Was Steve too pretty for him or something-”

“It was my fault,” he said, cutting her off. He’d feel bad about it if he wasn’t two steps away from losing his absolute shit.

“What the hell are you talking about?” she asked incredulously. She popped her gum aggressively.

“It’s my fault,” he repeated, pressing his hands into his eyes. “I wanted this. I asked for this.”

“You wanted Billy to beat the shit out of Steve,” Carol said more than asked, though the question was still clear in her voice. He could picture the skeptical tilt of her brow perfectly.

“Yes! No! Of course not! I just-” he wasn’t sure how to put it into words without ripping himself open. “I thought – well, I guess I thought that if someone actually challenged Steve’s… throne or whatever, maybe he’d…. It’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid?”

“I just…”

“Yes?”

“I wanted him to look at me again.”

She made a noise of understanding, and he could hear her nails tapping against the counter in thought.

“Set someone up to challenge his throne, make him realize that he’s losing his precious social capital, and hopefully make him remember who his real friends are,” she mused aloud, making his poor jumble of half formed thoughts sound like an actual sensible plan. “That was actually not a bad plan, babe.” She popped her gum, sounding unbothered in a way that made him bristle.

“Well, look how it turned out! Our season is fucked, Billy has lost his fucking mind, Steve got his face beat in worse than even what Byers did, and Steve is never going to want to talk to me again, because it’s all my fucking fault!”

Carol didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t exactly take this as confirmation that he was the worst person on the face of the earth, but it definitely didn’t help stop the stinging in his eyes.

Before he could spiral too hard, however, she was prying his hands from his face. Lights popped in front of his eyes, and he had to blink them away in order to see how pissed her expression was.

“Don’t be stupid,” she told him once he stopped blinking. “Billy does what Billy wants. Sure, maybe you made a bad choice in friends but we were all blinded by his mullet and abs, not just you.” He made a noise in protest at that, blushing furiously. “You didn’t tell him to go fight Steve, did you?”

Tommy couldn’t do anything but shake his head in response, shocked at how fast the anger had returned to her.

“Exactly! No matter what your intentions were, this isn’t your fault. We don’t even know why they fought in the first place, and neither of them seem to be fessing up.”

This last bit really seemed to piss her off. Which didn’t surprise Tommy at all – Carol hated not knowing something. She thrived on a certain cultivation of information, she had to know everything about everyone in order to stay anywhere near the top.

Her and Steve had an absolutely insane ‘network of informants’ before Steve had stopped talking to them.

Tommy knew he wasn’t the only one who missed Steve like a phantom limb.

She slammed her hand down on the counter suddenly, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Get that look off your face, you look like you’ve been listening to too much of Steve’s sad British music,” she said. He sputtered at that, but didn’t get a chance to respond. “Listen, you feel that bad about Billy going psycho? Then do something about it! Do something to fix it! Apologize! Take some responsibility instead of moping like a little baby.”

He blinked at her in shock for a second, and couldn’t help the way his lips twitched.

“Wow, thanks for the advice, Dr. Perkins,” he said. He couldn’t keep the grin from his face as her mouth twisted into a scowl. “Got any more for me? Some sort of plan? Steve didn't seem eager to talk to me today.” He tried not to show how much that fact hurt.

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” she snapped, crossing her arms with a huff. Then she popped her gum as a thoughtful look crept onto her face. “Well, I do have a few ideas…”

–

Tommy felt good having a plan of attack. Not only had seeing Steve left him feeling extremely unsteady, but it also excited him knowing that finally, finally, he was going to be getting his best friend back.

All he had to do was wait for the right time.

It should’ve been easy.

Steve was still benched and so only came to every other practice for morale’s sake. Also, so he could chat strategy with his co-captain and the coach. They didn’t share any classes together this semester, and only shared one of their lunch periods. Which, he never ate in the cafeteria anymore anyway.

Tommy and Carol agreed that Steve needed some time to heal, and they needed some time to start putting distance between them and Billy. Vicki might still be infatuated with the man, but they weren’t the only ones becoming wary of him.

In the end, Tommy only lasted about a week and half.

It was one of Steve’s off days (by request) and so he should’ve been home by now.

But his car was still in the parking lot. Steve was still in the parking lot.

The bruises were starting to fade, turning his face a sick green color. His now customary sunglasses were perched on his nose, making him look like a douchebag. (Tommy hated how good they looked on him.) A cigarette dangled from bitten down lips.

Tommy tore his eyes away from Steve’s mouth.

He started heading towards him without a thought, wanting nothing more than to apologize for all the shit he’s said behind his back the past year. For the hand he had in his fight with Billy. Wanted to tell him he wasn’t even mad that Steve called him an asshole and ditched him.

(Well, he was actually still a little pissed about that, but it didn’t even matter anymore.)

His mission was halted as a skateboard slid in front of him.

“Where the fuck-” he exclaimed, barely managing to keep from tripping over it and eating asphalt. When he righted himself again, he found he was surrounded by three middle schoolers all glaring at him.

He’s pretty sure he’s seen this movie before – something about Kids in a Cornfield?

Regardless, Tommy had seen these kids before, trailing behind Steve or Byers after school. Once or twice he had seen them at the arcade when he had been stopping by Family Video to drop off a tape.

Normally though, there were five of them that he would see with Steve. He looked over to where the other teen was standing to see that his attention had been taken by the two missing kids, excitedly yelling about something or another.

“What do you want with Steve?” one boy asked. St. Clair, maybe?

Tommy sputtered, “What do you mean what do I want with him? I just want to talk to him!”

The only girl of the group stepped forward, her skateboard clenched under her arm like some sort of weapon.

Which, considering she had just tried to kill him with it, it sort of was.

“Did Billy send you?” she asked.

That startled Tommy.

“Billy? Like Billy Hargrove?”

“Don’t play stupid – though I’m sure that’s hard for you,” she scoffed, which, rude , “I know you’re friends with him. I’ve seen you two together before. He’s also mentioned you a few times, though not as much as he complains about Steve.”

Billy’s little sister.

Billy had mentioned her before – normally when complaining about how watching her took up so much of his time. Not to mention how of a brat she apparently was. But Tommy had never actually met her before. He’d seen her hanging around Steve more than he’d ever seen her hang around Billy.

There was probably a reason for that.

“Billy didn’t send me. I’ve barely talked to him in almost two weeks,” he said, trying not to blink as he stared down Baby Hargrove. She bared her teeth at him and he flinched slightly. A pleased look came across her face. “Not since…” he trailed off.

It was obvious to all of them what it was that caused them to stop talking.

The three kids shared a quick, wordless conversation, communicating in a flurry of waggled eyebrows, hand gestures, and full body eye rolls. Tommy was reluctantly impressed. He wished he could do that with Carol or Steve, or even Nicole.

“Just because he isn’t talking to my douchebag brother anymore, doesn’t mean we should just let him do whatever he wants! It could be a long con!” Baby Hargrove said aloud, stomping her foot childishly and casting suspicious eyes back at him.

The first boy shushed her as they all sent wary glances back at Steve, but Steve was still enthralled by the excited story the two other kids were telling him. His cigarette was starting to go out, now clutched loosely between his fingers.

“I don’t think he’s smart enough for a long con,” the second boy, who couldn’t be anyone other than Nancy Wheeler’s bratty kid brother, said with a sneer.

“It doesn’t matter, we all agreed – until Steve is no longer concussed, we aren’t letting Hargrove or his friends mess with him,” St. Clair reminded them, his hands moving towards his hips in a parody of a move that Tommy had seen Steve do time and time again.

It would be kinda cute if he wasn’t actively keeping Tommy from talking to Steve.

“Remind me why we are letting him drive us around when his head is even emptier than normal?” Baby Wheeler scoffed.

Baby Hargrove perked up. “I could drive.”

“No!” Both boys whisper-yelled in response.

“You guys are such babies.”

The back and forth was starting to drive Tommy insane. (Though he had to agree with the boys – letting Baby Hargrove drive seemed like a bad idea. He’d seen the way Billy drove, after all.) He needed to talk to Steve now .

His eyes flickered back to Steve, wondering if he should make his move while his tiny bodyguards were distracted.

“Don’t even think about it, asshole,” Baby Wheeler sneered, seeing where his eyes went.

Tommy was starting to see why the kid got on Steve’s nerves so much when he first started dating Princess Wheeler. Hot and cold didn’t even begin to cover it.

“Tommy!” Carol had suddenly appeared behind him, making him jump.

The kids hadn’t noticed her walking up either. Baby Wheeler hissed like a cat in surprise and Baby Hargrove had hoisted her skateboard up like a shield in front of her and St. Clair.

Tommy turned automatically, like a moth to a flame, his eyes catching on a still distracted Steve before making eye contact with Carol.

Who was pissed.

Fuck.

“We had a deal,” she reminded him, crossing her arms with a huff. “We had a plan ”

He grimaced. “Sorry, babe.”

She pouted at him, but then looked over his shoulder to where Steve still was and sighed.

“Whatever, it’s fine. Not like you made much progress. Let’s just get out of here,” she said, popping her gum loudly.

He wanted to protest – after all, Steve was right there , even if there were several children in the way – but she cut him off with a meaningful look. He wasn’t quite sure what she was getting at (this would be a great time for him to gain the type of mind reading skills the middle schoolers had shown earlier) but gave in.

Carol grabbed his hand and threaded her fingers through his, and he allowed himself to be tugged towards his car. There would be other opportunities to talk to Steve, he knew it.

He cast a glance over his shoulder at the kids – who were still giving him suspicious looks. St. Clair pointed at his eyes and then back at him in the universal ‘I’m watching you’ signal while Baby Hargrove tapped her shoes against the edge of her board menacingly.

Tommy tried to resist, he did, but couldn’t help looking over their heads at Steve. Who was finally looking back, noticing him for the first time. He’d pushed the sunglasses up onto his head, and was watching them walk away. There was a look on his face, one that Tommy couldn’t parse. It looked like annoyance and regret all rolled up into one.

Whatever it was made him want to turn around right then, plans and appropriate settings be damned. Instead, he let himself continue to be pulled away by Carol, and raised his hand in an awkward wave that immediately left him embarrassed.

But then, miraculously, Steve waved back.

#stomarol #stommy #st fic rec #stranger things #my writing #mean girls trio #mean girls trio au #tommy #steve #carol #the party #home back to you

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conspicuous-clown-car · 4 months

Text

lemme ramble for a bit

so i have this story in my head of my self insert and the bs they go through while working at the pizzaplex for like 2 years as a night guard

and originally they were gonna die at the end of it before the events of security breach, smth about them finally getting what they wanted bc that’s one of the reasons they wanted to work there in the first place. but i thought that was way too sad, despite, yknow, it being a horror and if i was in their place id definitely be dead before then. plus there are some things worse than death in the fnaf universe. so i decided to veer away from angst for this story and go for a more thriller horror (maybe psychological) type thing yknow? makes it more fun

THEN i was like yo what if ghosts kids start haunting them to help them find their killer and there’s like 1 for each pizzaplex animatronic (excluding freddy and roxy bc they got gregory and cassie). and it could be super angsty bc 2 of the kids were inadvertently killed because of moon and one was killed by moon, and my s/i is super close with moon right? so it would be like a moral dilemma, bc they want to help the kids but they still want to be friends with moon, but they’re also horrified that he killed a kid. and my s/i would start dreaming and sleepwalking, forced by the ghost kids to relive their deaths to try and find who killed them. but then i started thinking about the timeline of that, and it would mean moon would’ve had the virus or whatever years before this story takes place, which isn’t what i wanted nor did it make sense. so after a while i was just like nahhhh, and it didn’t really mesh well with the story of security breach anyways, its more sci-fi than supernatural now, and including the ghost kids would just be too much crammed into self insert story i have. the kids designs im still gonna use tho lol

NOW after getting back into fnaf after like a few months of not really caring about the lore, i’ve been watching more theory videos and book summaries and stuff like that and it made me shift my whole view on security breach’s story

so i’ve decided that i wanna stick as close to canon lore as possible and make gregory and vanessa/vanny more present and important. i want to focus more on the issues with ai, and show the slow downfall and problems with depending solely on them. i also need to figure out why my self insert has plot armor bc anyone in their situation would’ve been fired or killed by now (i don’t have to stick that close to canon for this i guess). but im just gonna justify it as they’re a pushover who doesn’t ask any questions and just does what they’re told, which is pretty much what got the other employees fired or killed bc they did the opposite (they’re also a huge nerd about robots so they end up being good friends with all the animatronics which is a HUGE plot point in this story, friendship is the real magic love conquers all etc. etc.) don’t get me wrong, they are fully aware of how wrong things are in the pizzaplex and how some things vanessa has told them don’t add up, but they are a good little employee (they are a severe people pleaser) so they feign ignorance to it all.

my self insert being autistic and having adhd is also a big thing i wanna include, bc there’s some really specific shit about their autism that would affect how they survive and stuff. things like trauma responses, masking, unmasking, meltdowns, and shutdowns that will affect their relationships with the others and will domino affect over time and lead to them surviving. idk ive just been thinking a lot lately about social interactions and experiences i have that are negatively or positively impacted specifically because of my autism. choices choices

i also want to make sure that it’s clear how neglected all the animatronics are. not just the dca since it is intended to be a s/i x sun and moon story. but there’s a lot of issues the in game messages have talked about with the animatronics that seem to happen because no one is bothering to help them. they just put a bandaid on a situation but they don’t fix the root problem yknow. also, my s/i doesn’t think the animatronics are sentient at first, and i want that to be a big thing that gets explored several times throughout the story bc i love thinking about robot sentience.

at first i was gonna have monty sort of start to be nice to my s/i, and maybe they could be friends or even have a sibling type relationship (red hair lol) but then i was like nah, monty being an asshole is what makes his character interesting. plus his behavior is a nice contrast from the rest of the band. though i think it would be funny for some characters to think monty is my s/i’s favorite at first bc their hair is dyed red

i also want sun and moon to be as close to canon as possible. while i love love LOVE pretty much every dca x reader fic i ever read, i have a preference for canon depictions of sun and moon lol. no hate to fanon depictions of sun when i say this, but ive been lost in the sauce of fanon sun for too long, and i wanna make him passive aggressive, and sarcastic, and picky, and fussy!! but still an anxious wreck and a people pleaser perfectionist. i’ll admit im still struggling with this. it was kinda hard to get a gauge on his personality at first because until help wanted 2 we had only seen how he interacts with kids. and even though in universe that isn’t the real sun it’s the only indication we have of how he interacts with adults, so im taking it. moon is still gonna be mischievous, creepy as hell, and won’t talk much, but he’s not gonna be killin anyone (yet), he’s just gonna be kind of a stalker lol. also the dca and freddy have beef for some reason, it’s a personal head canon of mine but im adding it to this story hehe

lots of physical injuries, several concussions, a migraine so bad they loose the ability to communicate properly (smth i experience) will all happen to them, bc i am throwing them through the ringer. they will be stressed more often than not. get projected on idiot (i say that as if this isn’t my self insert and is literally me)

tbh this story would mostly be just a slice of life, shenanigan, character driven thing for most of it. but then little things brought up in the past will become important to the plot later on.

like how copyright music can’t be played in front of any of the animatronics or else they will freak out :]

that’s all lol

#sorry my meds just kicked in and i’ve been thinkin about my little story for days #had to write about its progress over these past HOLY SHIT 2 years #idk why i’m talking about this like im gonna write it or smth i can’t write for shit that’s why i do art lmao #IF (and that’s a big if) i were to write this i would have to write the entire thing before posting any of it #bc im a perfectionist #kirbsyaps

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wingzie · 8 months

Note

Hi.

Your experience as a Jikookers is the same as the experience of Taekookers. Extreme shippers fighting and having meltdowns on the TL make a lot of people equate the unit name with these behaviors.

Sadly the first thought that came to my mind when Jimin mentioned JK is that tkk would make a scene about it. Instead of just feeling relief they are doing well, or just comfort we're getting news, I felt dread. And the worst is I was right.

I'm really struggling with the state of the fandom now, especially twitter fandom. People say you just have to curate your online experience and most sane armys are just taking a break from SNS and everything will get better once the guys start coming back from MS. I'm not this optimistic.

I've been thinking finding fellow ARMY irl could be better. But there's still a good chance to meet someone you would block straight away online.

I'm not a very social person. I used to come online to find people remisniscing, celebrating, sharing.. There's always been hating but now it feels like it's only hating (and comparing numbers). There was a clear shift from COVID on. It's not just solo endeavors and MS. You said it, how the way to handle things has changed.

I don't know how to fend off all the negativity any more than I know how to casually meet ARMY offline. I dream of an ARMY community manager, of a campaign about mental heal, abusive relationships (how many think they know better than the members what's good for them and think they are actually showing love and support when they are just being abusive), how to make the parasocial relationship a positive thing, etc.... A lot of these people who make ARMY spaces unbreathable actually need help.

Hi Anon! I'm sorry you feel this way. I feel like some Army experienced feelings of anger or betrayal since the Festa Dinner, which has made them unfairly lash out on the members. Some cannot cope that we lost an aspect of control, but this has always been the members decision and we have to accept that with respect. As I said in my other post, the heart of Army is massively the same. Just this morning I saw a Tweet about the Purple Ocean from Muster and it reminded me of the Flashlight project during PTD. There will ALWAYS be discourse online. That is the reason for it's existence. I am in other fandoms and they all suffer from the same issues since Covid and Elon. However, for every "bad" person or post, there are plenty of good ones out there. If you look for then. I mentioned to someone yesterday that it's like when people always leave awful reviews for a bad meal, but very rarely mention when they have a good meal. That's why I always try to find a balance. Both Jimin and Namjoon have told us over the years to not engage with negativity and I have always taken those words to heart. Things in online spaces have changed, but I guess I am more of a fighter and optimist. For each negative post I see, I spend more time posting/repositing posts that spread positivity or praise. I see no point in boosting some random February 2024 account sprewing hate. We have to be responsbile or our own spaces and I DO think things will improve once Jin returns. There's still that shared joy and excitement whenever a member posts or content comes out. It's just that the negative is less contained than it used to be. As for events offline. My first event was for a local screening of one of the concerts. I then attended a few events for members Birthday's. With the HYYH anniversay coming up, maybe you could look into seeing if there's any events for it? It's also Sope's Birthday soon and I plan to go to events for each of their Birthday's, so that could also be an option. However, if you dont' feel comfortable going in person, then that is perfectly acceptable. I'm sure there will be no judgement! We all have our own ways. For example, I always buy a mini cake for each members' Birthday haha. Though I had some negative experiences offline, there have been some really good ones. That's just how things are and then you can take the steps to protect yourself afterwards. I'm actually going to another event with the same group I mentioned before. If it doesn't go well, then I will just leave. If things have improved, then I will stay and enjoy myself. I understand it's not easy though, especially when we have certain expectations. Please do look after yourself though and feel free to DM me if you wish to discuss further. Much Love Wingzie/Becca

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sleepynxri · 7 months

Text

“Shh, you’re safe. I won't let you go"

A/N: I did not expect for it to be like this- I expect it more to be the other way around but I feel like other players like it how Jean is more the comforting type. But the next time I'll make a one shot for him I'll make the reader the one comforting him :D

Pairing/s: Jean Williams x anxious reader

Warnings: stressed reader, mentions of having a meltdown and just overall anxious, I guess hurt/comfort but no one is actually hurt?? Yes there's fluff

You’ve always known you were the anxious type of person.

But that doesn't stop you from pursuing the things you wanted in life. You moved out from your house to go to college and chose a course to your liking. You were nervous at first, but you kept everything under control.

You handled your way on becoming independent and studied to the best of your abilities. You have done your best and that's what matters to you.

You thought following a WikWok video’s route would help you calm down after the rush and adrenaline from college before meeting your parents and family for the summer. What could go wrong you asked.

You knew karma and being jinxed existed.

But this?

I'm pretty sure the fates or any gods or goddesses out there are just laughing at your misery right now.

Your car breaking down out of nowhere….. you don't have enough money to pay both the hostel and the repairs of the said broken car.

What else?

You groaned softly as you sat yourself on the sand on a nearby beach side you found. It was near night time already but you didn't give a single fuck. Your mind was overwhelmed and needed to process everything.

You were surprised you didn't have a meltdown already, but it's probably because of the constant stress you got from college you slowly got used to it.

You wanted to be proud of that, but you were too tired to even do it.

You were happy that you got a Hostel to stay at and a job to hopefully pay the fees as soon as possible. Being in an unknown place made you want to curl yourself in a bundle of blankets and hope that everything was a dream.

Did you even remember telling your family that you won't be able to meet them in the starting weeks of summer because of this mishap?

“There you are” You froze suddenly from your position.

That familiar voice, the first person who helped you from your rollercoaster of a road trip. The stranger who owned the car you fell asleep in after you almost got a panic attack from your car breaking down out of nowhere.

Jean, the sheriff of Brine Bay.

" What brings you out here? It's nearly night already” His voice was always so soothing and so comforting. You always wondered if he was always like this. How many times have he encountered situations like this?

You promptly ignored him and stared at the tiding waves of the sea. The sound was almost the same tone that Jean has whenever he talked. You chuckled at the resemblance.

You heard rustling of the sand beside you, you assumed Jean sat down.

“Is everything alright? “

" Would you believe me even if I said yes? “ A joking tone would be evident but the edge of your emotions was still there.

You could hear Jean chuckling beside you as he found the conversation a bit humorous. You smiled slightly hearing it.

“How did you know I was here?"

“Lucky guess?"

“Bull"

“Alright alright, I'll tell you the truth. This is actually the area I go to distress myself when being a sheriff was too much for me" your eyes slightly widened from the information. Jean? Too much on being a sheriff? You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

You didn't expect Jean of all people to get tired of the role he has in Brine Bay. Your eyes glanced over to the male as you saw him looking at the night sky, as his chestnut hair slowly flickered slightly from the winds of the sea. A small smile was on his face as he looked like he was… . reminiscing?

“Hey, I'm always here if you want someone to listen to alright?” You were surprised by his words….. you knew he was the comforting and soft-hearted type of person… but not to this extent.

He stood up from where he was sitting and then outstretched his hand for you.

“Let's head back to the hostel, Dante must be worried for you" you roll your eyes, you weren't sure if his words were right or wrong since you knew the personality of the said front desk employee of the hostel.

You accepted his hand and he helped you stand up. You didn't expect to be pulled into a hug.

“I'll be here whenever you need me" he whispered slightly in your ear. You were confused but relaxed at some point as you wrapped your hands around him.

You were immersed in the hug, you couldn't remember how long you were in the position with Jean.

But you didn't care, you were already happy surrounding yourself in his arms.

Threads of You: Beyond the Bay Demo

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#threads of you: beyond the bay #Jean Williams x reader #Jean Williams x fem reader #Jean Williams x male reader #Jean Williams x gn reader #Jean Williams #male reader #female reader #gn reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

Text

Leona, Cater: Rewrite the Stars

I like that Leona’s Groovy is at night; the great kings of the past can watch over him and see how far he’s come ✨The hat shading his eyes in the initial art is also fitting; it really makes his eyes stand out!

Leona voice) Poor me, I need some good rest cuz I’ve been working so diligently as a student and dorm leader 🥺 Lyin’ ass…

P.S. brb gonna grip Cay-kun so hard for saying Leona is “acting like a cool leader” 😊 WDYM CATER??? ??? ??????? ? ?? 😊 YOU 'D BETTRr taKE YhAT BSACk RIgHT NOW MiSTEER 😊 last thing I need right now is a reminder that L*ona’s actually a good mentor OTL

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

“What do you want to do in the coming year?”

"I don't want to repeat a year. That's it."

"Eh." Cater blinked. "You wanna run that one by me again?"

"Clean your ears out and listen carefully next time," the birthday boy retorted. "I'm not going to repeat myself. If you didn't catch it the first time around, then you've only got yourself to blame."

"Nah, I did hear you, but... Well, I guess it's more like a 'Wow, I can't believe this!' moment, y'know?" A faint chuckle emanated from Cater. "After all, you're kiiinda infamous for doing just the opposite! Like, you've already been held back once, and you don't exactly have the best attendance record for lectures."

"An old lion can still learn new tricks," Leona simpered, his mouth twisting into something coy.

"You seem super motivated now, Leona-kun! Did something good happen recently to jump-start this?"

"Good?" A scoff, dryly amused. "That's a stretch. Lotsa stuff happened this year, but I'd hesitate to call any of it 'good'.

"There doesn't have to be some big, fancy world-changing reason for a change of heart. I'm just sick of stewing in the shadows and gazing out to a barren pride land. It's about time for the sun to dawn on a new era—and I plan to be there when that happens."

“Ahahah, well~ Graduating’s the bare minimum for us students. It sounds like you’ve got even bigger goals than that.”

“When you’re as noble of a soul as I am, you’ve naturally got the ambitions to match,” Leona purred sarcastically. His voice was languid, like a cat making lazy strides across the floorboards. “Can’t just be throwin’ in the towel the moment the going gets tough. That goes for Magift and in real life.”

“Hmm? That sounds totes different than the you I remember from the interdorm Magift tournament.” Cater’s mouth pulled into a smarmy grin. “I could’ve sworn you gave up and had a meltdown when your plan was foiled!”

He received a poisonous glare. “You just have to remind me, huh? … You know what? Fine, have your cake and eat it. I’ll own up to it. ‘Sides, it was a long time ago.”

“Right, you’ve had a rebranding and a personality glow-up since. All that’s missing is the formal apology video! It’s a necessity for celebs that get cancelled for their #wicked actions.”

Leona scowled deeply. “Can it, I’m NOT doing that. And who’s a ‘celeb that got cancelled for their #wicked actions’?!”

“Really? Awww, but I bet you’d get mad views on it!”

“Tch, it’s things like this that makes maintaining social grace a real drag,” Leona grumbled under his breath. What I’d give to vanish to a remote resort, far, far away from the idiots I’m surrounded with…

“Anyway, nothing gets done if all you do is whine and then quit. People who don’t try can never achieve anything. They’re already down and out from the get-go.

“Cowards who refuse to look at themselves in the mirror don’t have a place in tomorrow. They’re stuck in the past, clawing for some semblance of hope, however futile. That ain’t me, not ever again.”

“Sounds like you’ve def had this on your mind for a while! You’re acting like such a cool and self-assured leader~”

“Please. This is to be expected of every leader. Even your Red Young Master would know this much.”

Leona leaned his shoulder against the school building. Folding his arms, he lifted his head up. “They’d know it too.”

Cater followed his gaze, meeting a vast expanse of the night. The sky was painted a deep black-violet, speckled in glowing white flecks. Stars—so many of them.

“The great kings of the past,” Leona said, his words tainted with the taste of something bitter. “When we pass on, we become a part of nature: the grass and the dirt that feed the next generation, the stars in the sky that light the way in the dark. The things that keep the world turning.

“In the Circle of Life, we all have our roles to play.” A smirk steadily grew on his face. “I know what mine is, and I intend to act on it. The highest point in the sky may as well be mine.”

His declaration resounded in the silence of the campus. One wish, resolute, uttered only for him and Cater to hear. In the quiet that followed, the green of Leona’s eyes flickered not with vengeful fire, but with a flame more thoughtful and warm and…

… the slightest bit vulnerable. A softness Cater had never witnessed before.

Leona-kun has changed a lot. He’s starting to be a little more honest with himself too. wonder if I could ever meet him on that level.

The thought was quickly shoved away, shelved back in the coldest recesses of his mind before it could properly take hold. The space reserved for the darkest parts of him, where truth soured and masks were neatly displayed.

Familiarity. Safety. Comfort. Perhaps what Leona would have called cowardice.

Cater swallowed.

“… If you ask me, you already shine like the star of a great king,” he said cheerily. “Just check out your birthday get-up! You’ve got the drip and the skills for it!

“I’ve got the skills to be a ball of gas in the sky?” Leona grimaced.

“Hey, hey! Let’s not phrase it like that! It’s so not a nice image to think about. Instead, let’s call it… a ball of stardust!”

“Why stardust?”

“I read in a horoscope once that the reason we can do fortune telling with the constellations is cuz people are made of the same stuff as stars are,” Cater explained with a sure wink. “Stardust! Our essence is the same as the what’s in celestial bodies.

“Don’t you think that sounds so much more poetic? When you wish upon a star, it’s said your name wish will come true—but since people and stars are made of the same stuff… then we should be able to make our wishes come true using our own power ⭐️”

“‘Fraid I fail to see the point of your whole whimsical after-school special. It’s obvious that it’s in our hands to shape the future, balls of gas or stardust or no. The great kings of the past can watch it ‘n weep.”

“That’s the spirit!! You got this~” Cater flashed an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Go and get’m, Leona-kun!”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” Leona peeled himself away from the main school building, his broom ready.

The birthday boy plopped down on his magical tool, brazenly using it like a sofa. It floated seemingly on its own accord, effortlessly supporting his full weight. Controlled, obedient—like a waiting pet.

“Oh, wait!” Cater called out, suddenly producing his phone. “Is it okay if I grab some pics of you taking off for Magicam? I’ll just need your handle to send you the…”

Resting an arm on his knee, Leona brought his heel down and grinded it against the handle. A signal, a cue, for the broom to kick into high gear.

WHOOSH!!

A shower of golden sparks exploded from the bouquet, and he smoothly launched into the air, his hair and the brim of his hat flying behind him. The violent kickback slammed into Cater, sending him falling back, his phone clattering to the ground.

(“My phoooone!” he wailed.)

With the shadows out of the way, Leona could see the stars for what they really were. Tens of hundreds of them, sparkling clusters in the inky night.

So many wishes. So many kings. Many, many things. Everything, everywhere, all at once.

A world waiting to be rewritten, to tell of his accomplishments.

“One day… I’ll be among them. They’ll tell stories about me, the greatest ‘king’ of them all.” This truth, Leona spoke to the stars.

The future was littered with prizes, and he was to be the main addressee.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Leona Kingscholar #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #Cater Diamond #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #something no one asked for #Leona birthday takeover #spoilers

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