#currently planning kind of a story idk

[yuauaua]

messy screenies of my homos (jianyu and his bf, elliott) still kinda iffy on elliott's appearance so i didn't really show his face but he's growing on me

[orcelito]

What If I didn't have a brain of a pessimistic squirrel that takes everything out of proportion and can't deal with any thing

[cometkenji]

ghost in the machine

Pairing: Unsub!Spencer Reid x Agent!Fem!reader CW: Fluff, longing, mild angst, one paragraph with heavy implications of sex, cursing, mentions of reader being in a car accident, mentions of suicide and death, suggestive Ig? idk Spencer kind of taunts reader, if I miss anything please tell me! Summary: An unsub targeting local political powers starts calling you. With virtually no memories of your life before 15, you're tasked with finding out why his voice feels like home. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby. She's not physically described in this but reader is literally always a bigger person. Anyone can read but I wanna clarify <3 WC: 7.8k I lokey feel like I fumbled this one but this idea has been in my head since I saw a post about it like last month so i'm sorry in advance if it sucks 💀 I'm not saying looping ghost in the machine by SZA while reading this will elevate the experience but just know it's strongly advised and im even giving you a link to the song for easy access.

The fourth case this month. This was the fourth battered politician you’d forced into handcuffs while ducking away from the recoil of blood spewing from his mouth. The men you’d arrested had all protested strongly - and wetly - while being walked to the back of your cruiser, demanding to know why you were arresting them even though they were the victims. They were always the victims. They’d been burgled and beaten - yes- oftentimes you were restraining them while they sat in bathrobes or pajama pants, but this unsub always jumped the gun. Somehow they managed all this damage while simultaneously kicking the dirt that had been sedentary for years out from under the rug. The men would call the police themselves -  I’ve been robbed, I’ve been beaten - always astounded when you’d taken their statement then turned them around and recited their Miranda rights. This unsub was meticulous, planned down to the second. Somehow, the media always broke the story hours after the arrest with full fledged details on the crime - ones the BAU didn’t even have yet. 

The first time this happened, you’d questioned every media worker from Quantico to DC. His target zone never seemed to reach beyond that, giving you an offender right in your backyard. Those were always the hardest to stomach.  Journalists, Newscasters, even cameramen had been turned inside out as the team scoured for any connection. He was just too good. 

“How can it be just one man?” Derek spoke first, but that was the question all of you were about to ask. 

“Wife and kids were outta town. It was a sleeping 50 year old man against the element of surprise.” Prentiss was right, it wasn’t a difficult job when viewed like that. “Description is consistent with all the victims. All black attire, mask over the face.” She flopped the folder down in front of her for emphasis. 

“Either he has another guy or he’s incredibly tech savvy. Some of this information was encrypted, it would take weeks to compile all of this. If he’s hitting a new vic every week that’s not nearly enough planning time for something this orchestrated.” Hotch checked the time on his watch. “We’re not finding him tonight. The local PD are investigating. We don’t have clearance until tomorrow. Everybody go home and get some rest, we need to crack down on this.” 

As much as you loved your job, the departure was a welcome relief. The day had drained you, you had to basically drag yourself back to the BAU for the regroup after the case. It was routine, and incredibly necessary as this unsub continued his streak, but your brain was mush, and you didn’t know if you were capable of any breakthroughs in your current state. You were grateful, currently, that at least you weren’t dealing with a serial killer. He had an agenda, that much was obvious, but chasing a serial killer for a month bred a different kind of stress than chasing an anarchist. 

The AC blast that hit you upon entering your home seemed to steal the tension from your shoulders. It was summer, so on top of hunting an unsub who was essentially a ghost, you were also bearing through the violently humid nights. You locked the door, pulling up your sleeves as you walked deeper into your house. The lights were on, you never left them off for long, and your eyes locked on the pile of notes sitting on your counter. Three small papers, torn at every edge, were draped over each other. Evidence, you thought. You’d kept them for evidence. Once you told the team the unsub had been reaching out, you would show them the notes. It was that simple, you were planning to tell them. You didn’t know why the information hadn’t entered their radar yet. This unsub was clearly infatuated. You could be a valuable part of solving this case, the notes could be the reason you solved it at all. Those were words straight from the source, they would tell you more about the unsub than any crime scene analysis would. Something about them just stilled your tongue, though. You never particularly liked the feds, the cops, the higher ups. You became one of them begrudgingly, you’d been good at reading people your whole life. You wanted to solve things, see justice. It was never primarily about helping people for you, and you feared the reputational repercussions if your team members ever found out about that. You weren't ignorant, you had morals. You simply lacked the place of purity they came from, the virtue your team members carried was one you were void of. Half of the time you walked away from a case, you disagreed with the verdict, and you were ashamed.

You had only realized you zoned out when the phone rang, effectively breaking your gaze away from the notes and onto the ‘Unknown caller’ screen glaring at you from your cell. Morgan just got a new phone, you remembered. He’s probably checking in. You picked it up, stating just your last name in greeting as a reflex from almost exclusively talking to other agents. 

It was quiet for a moment, reaching the period of time where your stomach knotted up and almost forced you off the phone. “Hey, Y/n.” The voice was a new one, it pulled at certain strings within you. You knew him, but you didn’t recognize him. 

“Who’s this?” The spark of familiarity filled you with guilt. A car accident when you were 15 had stolen most of the memories from your childhood and left a bountiful amount of scars in their place. You barely remembered your own parents, if this man was an old relative, you definitely didn’t know who he was. As much as your family tried to be empathetic, you could tell it hurt them when you were none the wiser.

“God, it’s good to hear your voice.” The man was smiling as he spoke, you could hear it in his tone. “Your number was shockingly hard to find. Feds really don’t mess around, huh?” Your shoulders tensed, you looked around. Blinds were closed, your house was the same as when you left it. You're sure it wouldn’t be hard to find your address if he’d found your number. “I’ve been trying, believe me. I left those notes while I was looking, although it’s really not the same, is it? Phones are so revolutionary, I mean writing you a letter is one thing but it’s so underwhelming in comparison. A piece of paper doesn’t let me listen to you, doesn’t let me hear those little breaths you take when you get scared.” You didn’t even realize your breathing had changed until he called you out. 

“Do I scare you?” He sounded so domestic, the contrast between the genuinity laced in his words and the actual words themselves just about knocked you over. “I hope I don’t. I’m not trying to.”

“What are you trying to do?” Your mouth felt sealed shut, just barely managing to grate out the words.

“If you’re asking about my agenda, I’m afraid that’s a private affair for now.” He was so casual about this, sarcastically sucking air in through his teeth like he was telling you he couldn’t meet for coffee next week.

“What do you need with me, then? You don’t want to share and you aren’t calling to gloat. What’s the point?” 

You heard him click his tongue at the question. “Everything is so technical with you agents.” You could basically sense his lips quirk up, gaining some type of sick intuition for the man’s tendencies. “Maybe I just wanted a word with the pretty detective working my case.” 

Your knees were trembling, your grip getting looser on the phone as you struggled to keep your hold through the tremors of your hands. You had to focus, you could take advantage of this. “Why politicians? What happened to you?”

“Personal grudge.”

“How do you get their data so fast?”

“I know a guy” He knew a guy?

“So you have a partner?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s no one of importance.” Sibling, maybe?

“It’s important to me.”

He chuckled at that. You needed to hang up.

“Y/n-” Could he sense your fucking muscles tensing? “Don’t tell your friends.” He could hear your heartbeat from where he was, you were sure of it. 

“Why?” You were instantaneous, barely letting him finish before responding. “You gonna hurt me?”

“No.” He scoffed. “If you tell them, I’ll have to stop reaching out.” You swore you could feel the weight of his eyes on you. “Is that really something you want?” Cold sweat pierced through the skin on the back of your neck. You yanked the phone down from your ear and hung up. 

No, it wasn’t. 

–

You dreadfully greeted the sun as it peeked through the slits of your blinds. You’d slept maybe a half hour in total last night, sleeping in five minute increments while bearing through a paranoid haze only comparable to the first time you’d smoked weed. The world felt unreachable. You could see it like a screen but your true consciousness sat captive in his hands. He’d known you. That was the fact stuck in your throat, that’s why you couldn’t sleep. Does that mean you knew him?

“Jesus.” If you had to guess, the sight of your sunken eyes and hunched shoulders was the trigger for Morgan’s reaction to the sight of you. Walking into work wasn’t going to be fun, you knew that, but you hadn’t expected such an immediate acknowledgement. “Someone have a rough night?”

You wished you could banter with him. Morgan always made working here feel lighter, he was fun to be around, but you were guilty. If you were tired from a one-night, insomnia, even if you were drunk and puking your guts up all night, you would have joked back with him. Now, you had to force yourself to make eye contact. A childish part of your brain was scared he'd smell it on you. At this point, you were fraternizing with the enemy, and it’s repercussions were draped over you like a curtain. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Clearly.” He handed you a mug of coffee. “Is it the case? If it’s bugging you that much, one of us can stay with you for a couple nights. It’s no trouble.”

“No, Morgan, that’s not necessary.” He was so kind it was nearly suffocating. If someone stayed, he either wouldn’t call or you’d have to decline it. Both of those options making an uncomfortable amount of unease stir inside you. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.” 

“Just tell me if you need anything.” He nodded at you, you nodded back, then you both headed into the conference room. 

“Any leads?” You walked to your seat as you asked, unsure what you were hoping to receive as an answer.

“None.” Everyone else was gathered around the table, Hotch scanning through the file as he replied to you.

“We’ve pretty much ruled out the media workers.” Prentiss spoke up. “This guy’s most likely an anarchist. His previous victims haven’t belonged to a consistent party so he’s not lashing out at the opposing side.” She thought for a moment. “What path leads somebody to anarchy?”

“Maybe he’s been kept out of office.” Morgan started speculating, just trying to sweep together something they could pin to him. “If he’s been running long enough, maybe he gets angry, changes course. He could be jealous of his targets.” 

Your brain was half focused on the case, half focused on him. Two sides of you were fighting, one instilling a sort of protectiveness over him, one howling at you to do your fucking job. 

“I don’t think he’s an anarchist.” You leaned forward in your chair, revving up to present your theory. “He’s been described in the same outfit for every victim. Long Sleeve, cargo pants, gloves and a ski mask - all black. That’s as minimal as it gets. Some pretty low income areas are well within his safe zone.” You paused, looking around to see if they were understanding what you were getting at.

“He’s poor.” Hotch had a glint in his eyes. Almost. 

“So - what?” Morgan prompted. “He’s doing this for money? This is way too elaborate for somebody needing cash.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Hotch, there was evidence of Scopolamine injections. A man who either knows how to make the chemical or already has enough money to buy it wouldn’t be in a position that warrants this. Plus, the kind of tech it would take to get the information he steals? Way more than your typical Best Buy - this is Garcia level stuff. He injects them and probably forces them to help with the robbing, he beats them senseless - he’s getting some kind of kick out of this.”

“He’s not poor” You concluded. “But I’m pretty sure he used to be.” You sat up straighter to elaborate. “A lot of times, kids who grow up homeless or with no money feel wronged by politicians. Here they are going to school hungry while the mayor rolls in cash and lets them bear the consequences of a put-off promise to help the community.”

Prentiss sat back in her chair as she considered your words. “To build this type of anger, though? This is a vendetta.” She glanced down at the crime scene photos as a reminder. 

“Exactly. Anger is expected in normal cases. Something extreme clearly had to happen to explain this type of outburst.” Personal grudge, you remembered him saying. You felt like you were airing out his secrets as you spoke. A weak sense of betrayal tugged at your guts. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, going over what type of event could cause something like this and I think I have an idea.” You pulled out your phone while talking to call Garcia, the woman answering immediately.

“Garcia, can you look up children in the Quantico to DC area who died from complications with chronic illness? Probably late 90’s to early 2000’s, I don’t think our guy is old enough to have been running for office.” 

“That’s gonna be a large list. Any more parameters you can give me?”

“Look for families making less than 20,000 a year.” 

“Got it. There were three families making under 20,000 that reported losing a child of illness. One was of stage 4 cancer with no plausible recovery and the other two said they couldn’t afford the medication needed for treatment. I just sent them over.”

“You’re the best.” 

“Don’t I know it.” You hung up the phone, pulling up the files she found.

“What exactly are we looking for here?” Morgan looked to you.

“We can rule out the first family. Dying of cancer wouldn’t create the effect needed for our unsub.” He looked like he was about to reiterate his question. “What we’re looking for is a sibling. If your family is struggling, you already have the seed of anger that this guy has. I think a family member dying from the lack of money might just give him the motive he needs.”

“That’s good thinking, he could be avenging someone.” Praise from Hotch always felt better than others. “The Bryson family was just the mother and the daughter who died. She worked in janitorial for the local middle school.”

“Doesn’t exactly fit the profile.” Morgan was right, all the testimonies had described a man. Plus the assumption of decent financial prosperity didn’t fit someone still working at a middle school.

“Who does that leave?” You were searching for the answer to your question, but Prentiss was quicker.

“Diana Reid and her two sons. Henry had type 1, seems like they could afford the insulin for a little while but something must have happened. He went into DKA and died a week later.”

Two sons. “What about his brother?”

“Uhhhh-” She scrolled down on her tablet. “That would be one Spencer Reid who…” She scrolled just a little bit further to find the whereabouts of the man, the hope in her eyes snuffing out with the information she read. “is dead. Says he committed suicide a couple years after his brother died.” The whole table deflated a bit as she said that.

“It was a good idea.” Hotch, despite being a monotone man, usually tried to keep things optimistic. “We’ll continue pursuing that angle. Morgan and Prentiss, I want you to go back to the first crime scene. I’ll call Dave and we’ll head to the latest.” The mentioned agents nodded their heads and started making their way out the door. 

Your eyebrows furrowed at your lack of instruction. “And me, sir?”

“Go home.” He looked you over for a moment. “You look like hell.” Then he was gone, calling Rossi on his way out. How mortifying.

– 

It had been three days since Hotch’s dismissal of you. You managed to get some sleep, convincing your co-workers of normalcy when you went back into the office the next day. In truth, you were anything but. You had been noticeably distracted but the others chose not to mention it until it hindered your performance, which it had yet to do. You were on a timer, counting down the seconds until your next call with him. You seemed to be endlessly tugged back and forth between excitement and pure dread. Everytime you got home, you took a moment to stare at your phone, almost like you could will him to call if you glared at it long enough. The day was just shy of a week since his last attack, and you were nervous as hell. Your phone buzzed once, then it buzzed again. He was calling. 

“You’re early.” You didn’t find it fitting to greet him. You knew who it was, why be friendly? “Is there another one?”

“Relax, honey.” His voice lit a fire in you. Jesus. “I didn’t know I was only permitted one call a week.”

“What are you playing at?” You tried to sound sturdy, but your voice hit your ears with more desperation than you’d ever expressed. 

“I could ask you the same.” You could hear the tilt in his words, he was so sure of what he was doing. “You didn’t tell them about us.”

“How would you know?”

“I’m not in cuffs, am I?”

“You think we’d catch you if I told them?” Was it your fault he was still free?

“No.”

“Maybe they’re listening.”

“Maybe.” He was so unbothered by the notion. You were never a good bluffer.

“It wouldn’t bother you?” You narrowed your eyes at nothing, staring at your wall as you tried to read him through the phone.

“You could bring in the whole nation, Y/n.” You listened more intently than you ever had. “It wouldn’t keep me from you.” You felt like you were choking on your own heart, feeling it beat at the confines of your throat. Jesus Christ.

“Do you know where I live?” Your lips were too weak to hold back the question. It’d been the only thing on your mind since the first note had been left on your car.

“Why?” His smile bled into his words. “Are you inviting me over?”

“Answer the question.”

“Why don’t you answer a question of mine?” He was so intentional, his MO proudly showing in the way he spoke to you. “Haywood or Clancy?”

“Are those your actual choices?” You tried to analyze him, justifying your actions with the ruse of investigation. He’d tell you more if he wasn’t monitored. “Or are you trying to throw me off your trail?” It was certainly plausible. Get you running after two men not of interest, leaving his real victim neglected by your team. 

He laughed, breathy and soft. “I don’t know.” You could almost picture him tilting his head, faceless and so enticing in your imagination. “Pick one for me. Maybe I’ll do him next in your honor.” 

“What do you know about honor?”

“Everything I do is about honor.” What did that mean?

“The only thing that would honor me is you turning yourself in.”

“What do you know about honor, agent?” His voice was taunting, you heard his body shift. “What do you think that team of yours would think about us, hm? Those are their words, not yours. You’re the one who’s waiting on calls from the enemy.” Shock paralyzed your tongue. You felt your head pulse with the blood rushing to your ears. “You don’t have to be guilty about wanting it, honey. You don’t fit with them.” 

“As opposed to what? Fitting with you?”

He chuckled. “You’ve thought about it.”

“Nightmares, maybe.” 

“That’s the angle you're going with?” He saw through you. “If you dreamt of me, I doubt they were nightmares.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

“I don’t know where you are.” You didn’t feel relieved. “I have no interest in hurting or robbing you. Why would I want your address?.”

You slipped your hand under your shirt to trace the scar across your chest. Gift from the accident, now a nervous habit of yours. “What do you want?” God, you were a broken record.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Y/n.” You could barely hear him over the thrum of blood in your veins. Your entire body felt tuned into his words. You’d never felt so far away while connected. “Only what I can do.”

“You take everything from them. More than just money. Clearly you lost something.” You were so sick of asking this question but you were getting farther from the answer with every conversation. “Why are you doing this?”

“They made the first move.” Jesus what did they do to this guy? “I’m not the bad guy, honey. I’m just defending my side.” 

“This isn’t a game.”

“It might as well be.” He was quick with his responses. “It’s all the same to men like them.” You stayed quiet for a moment. How did you reply to something like that? “Get some sleep. It’s late.”

“Give me less crime scenes to look at and maybe I’ll sleep more.”

He smiled, you could hear it in his tone. “Every mean has an end, agent.” You held your breath, and as if gaining consciousness, you hung up the phone. You felt the brick of the encounter sit heavy in your stomach. He wasn’t lying. You were guilty, and you wanted it beyond belief. 

–

You’d talked to him four more times over the past two weeks. There’d been two more victims corresponding with those calls, continuing his routine of a new one each week. Your understanding of your feelings had become less hazy as you talked to him more. Your guilt wasn’t from withholding information from your team, it was from the fact you wanted to. It stemmed from your instinctual desire to keep him to yourself. Let him exist differently in your home life than he did in your work life. It was difficult keeping something from profilers. It made you feel worse that they definitely knew something was up, but chose not to push it because they trusted you. Did this truly make you untrustworthy? You were only human. 

You’d spent what was meant to be your day off at the BAU working. When there was a case like this, rest time seemed to take the backseat. You were drained, more emotionally than physically. You were lying to your friends, but truly, you didn’t know how deeply you considered them friends. They were good people, easy to like and easy to work with. You were starting to wonder if that's where it stopped, though. Everything about their company was easy, but it lacked gratification. His company was hard on you, but it was so rewarding, so filled with feeling that you started to wonder what your morals even were. You wouldn’t find them here, you thought. You certainly tried. You stared into the chipped white paint aging poorly on the brick wall of the bar as if the pigment of the words would organize your thoughts better than your malfunctioning mind could. The liquid in your glass was nearing it’s end. The drink had loosened your joints, loosened your mind. You hadn’t come here to get drunk, you were basically still sober, you just needed the warmth of a drink. There was a certain coldness within you, there had been since the accident. You accredit the feeling with driving away any potential love interests of yours. There was always a sense of being stuck, like you were interrupted in the middle of moving on, and never fully got to close the chapter. This wasn’t hard for others to sense. You were as emotionally nonreciprocal and unresponsive as a corpse.

“Mind if I join you?” A man who’d immediately caught your eye upon entrance gestured to the barstool next to you.

You motioned to it. “Please.” A casual invitation. You didn’t know how to talk to random men in bars. You took a good look at him, something subconscious stirring beneath your skin. The minimal buzz of the drink you had making you write it off, preferring the focus of his eyes on yours. 

“What’s your name?” The smoothness of his voice could have rivaled the most expensive whiskey in that place. 

You told him your name. He nodded, murmuring a “pretty” under his breath as he took a sip from his glass. 

“I’m Matthew.” 

“Pretty.” You reiterated, raising your eyebrows slightly as you joked. He chuckled, and you asked if he was new to the area. 

“I’m a local, actually. I grew up here, surprisingly never been to this bar, though.”

“Really? I grew up around here too. This place is old as dust, been here forever.” You looked down, finishing the last of your drink. 

“I know. I’ve wanted to come here for a while because it’s so old.” Something about him was so off putting but so irresistible. You’d never encountered such an uncomfortable concoction. It was intoxicating. “I lost the knack for drinking I had in my teen years. Back then my friends and me would just buy a 12 pack and get drunk in the field on Fromage.” 

You lacked the memories to know if you related to the man, but you weren’t going to delve into why and kill the mood, so you lied. “That field used to scare the shit out of me. Everyone at my school said there were bodies out there.” 

His eyes held a certain glint in them when he looked at you, his lips perked up at the edges slightly, if you hadn’t been a profiler you might have missed it. “Really?” Maybe you imagined it all, that or he caught on to you, the look leaving his eyes after lingering for a moment. The slight promise of something more sinister pulsed throughout them. The hairs on your arm were standing. “Mine said the same thing.” He smiled, looking away, shaking his head fondly as he remembered. “My school was full of dumbasses though so I never really took it seriously.” And you laughed. 

You laughed a lot throughout the time you sat there with him. A few hours, you’d guess. He lowered your guard so easily, walking leisurely through the gates of you. You’d practically rolled out the red carpet for him. You wondered if he could see how easily he got in, how much you welcomed the feel of him in your veins. He didn’t seem to mind if he could. When he’d wanted to take you home, your lips parted, and you said you’d like that. You don’t really remember driving, knowing one of you did, both of you sober by the time you’d left. He’d been so gentle, so all-consuming. He’d run his thumbs along the scars he encountered, punctuating the sensation with his lips following close after. Mumbling praises against your skin and rhetorically asking “does that feel good, honey?” as your legs shook around him. He melted you down to pure liquid gold with just his touch, knowing exactly how to map you out. You’d felt him everywhere, his fingers burning their respective shadows on your skin, seeping slowly into your soul to leave marks there too. He’d felt so safe, the pure want joining the two of you together. A euphoric distraction from all the disaster you’d let befall you. He was gone before you woke up the next morning, but you saw him in your shadow, felt him in the soreness of your legs. He’d been a deviation, something put in your path to confuse you. What a brutal fucking night.

–

The same day, you’d gone to work, gone home, and then ended up back at the BAU an hour later. There had been another victim. Two days early. This was his eighth, and up until now he hadn’t strayed from his weekly pattern. This was a bad sign, if he was ramping up, who knows how many more he wanted to hit. The story had stayed the same, and that night you were arresting another board member, this time for solid ties to human trafficking. He really knew how to pick them. You’d give him that, at least.

The meeting post-arrest basically just shared what you were all thinking. He was ramping up, and you were getting no closer to catching him. Stating the obvious was doing nothing but wasting time. He was good. One of the best you’d ever seen. Nobody really knew what to do at this point. You watched their faces get more and more helpless and you felt bad. Nothing in your calls with the man would have helped you solve this case, you were almost positive. Any aspect that could have helped was one you explored. 

Emily had said the name ‘Spencer Reid’ and the way your stomach lurched made you feel like you had to be onto something. You’d never had such an intense gut feeling about something only for it to be absolutely impossible. You hadn’t told them, but you looked more into him. His death was an easy one to fake. As much as you hated speculating on what could very well have been just a heartbroken boy, you couldn’t deny the theory you were building. His mother had found a suicide note, they hauled a body out of the river a month later and just assigned Spencer’s name to it, marking it down as conclusive. You weren’t convinced.

–

You got home within the hour, locking the door and pulling out your phone. You hadn’t called him before, but it was the same number every time, and you needed to talk. The phone rang so long you were almost sure he wouldn’t pick up. Almost.

“Y/n.” He greeted you. “This is new.” 

“You broke your pattern.” You started with the topic at hand. “Why did you do that?”

You heard a chair squeak slightly as he leaned back. “What can I say? You being so interested gave me some extra motivation.”

“Interested?” What the fuck was he talking about? “This isn’t - I’m not fucking interested in anything. You’re a criminal.” You were slightly out of breath. When you lied to him, no matter how small the lie, air seemed to gain a disinterest in staying within your lungs.

“Mhm.” He was smug. That wasn’t a good sign. “I don’t believe that. You seemed pretty interested last night.” 

He had pulled a lever, and your stomach dropped to your shoes. “That was you?” You sounded as defeated as you felt. Your eyes were watering from the pure shock, feeling the drop of the bomb shake you down to your core. 

“You kept tracing that scar on your chest, you know that?” You hadn’t known that. “Almost like you could feel it.” Feel what? He didn’t elaborate. “You sounded so pretty when I touched it, when I kissed you. Been thinking about it all day.” He was breathy, sounding like he was trying to put himself back in it as he spoke. 

You steadied yourself before you opened your mouth. “You lied to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you.” He sighed. “You lied to me, though.” You hadn’t imagined it. “That field used to scare you?” He laughed slightly. “You were the one who told me about it. Took me over there once to look at the moon in the back of your dad’s pickup.” 

God, this was frustrating. “Who are you?” The tears were dancing the border of your eyes, begging to run down your cheeks. “I knew you?”

“You know me.” He was so sure of it. “I’m still in there. Everything is.”

You had to ask, at this point you were near certain of it. “Spencer?”

He sighed, relief intertwining with his words. “There she is.” It was such a soft delivery, the moment he took before replying had you wondering if you’d said anything at all.

What kind of situation even was this? “Is this about your brother?”

“You know, when we were younger, my mother knew the mayor. He used to babysit my brother and me when she worked nights.” His tone was humorous, bitter, like he couldn’t believe the stupidity of what he was explaining. “I listened to him promise us he would change the community when he got the time. Get us a house with more than one bedroom, get us into a school system deserving of us. He used to call me a genius.” He scoffed at the thought. “Then my mom couldn’t afford the insulin, and he let my brother die.”

You didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“The payments wouldn’t have even made a dent in his pockets.” You could visualize him, alone in a room somewhere, that familiar crease between his eyebrows as he talked. You were going to be sick, you thought. “One man for every year my brother got to live. Seems only fair.”

“Two more to go, then?” You couldn’t identify a single thought in your head. All of them speeding past you like bullets before you could latch onto one. “Is it helping?”

“Yeah.” He sniffled, quiet and subdued. “It is.”

“I - um” A tear finally fell, breaking the dam. You wiped it away quickly, two more taking it’s place almost immediately “I have to go.”

“Y/n-” but you were gone already. You put your hand over your mouth, laughing into it slightly at the absurdity of your situation and sobbing into a moment later as you took the cold plunge into reality. You texted your parents, knowing they were asleep, asking if you could swing by when they woke up. If anyone would know something, it was them, and you had every intention of shaking them down to find out exactly how you’d known the man. You had to know. You spent the night preparing the questions you’d ask and trying to fall asleep. You were almost paralyzed with the weight of him on you. There was no getting out of it now.

–

The outside of this house always felt alien. You knew you’d grown up here, but it lacked any sense of home. You wondered as you stood out front how much Spencer had to have meant to leave more of a mark than the place you spent your first 18 years in. The sun was nearing it’s peak in the sky, it was almost noon. Your parents had texted back at eight am, worried and eager to know what was wrong, eager to see you. You’d fallen asleep barely an hour before that, waking up at eleven and quickly getting ready after seeing the text. You were scared. These were practically strangers to you, and you were betting an ungodly amount on them. That’s not fair, you thought. But honestly, nothing was fair, and you calmed your guilt with promise of filling the void in your gut. You broke your staring contest with the front door and leaned forward to knock, the thing opening almost immediately. 

“Hey.” You spoke before they did. You found that being the first to talk usually decreased the amount of warmth in their greetings. “It’s good to see you guys. Thank you for having me, I know my texts were sort of alarming. I just needed to talk about something.” You held eye contact to the best of your ability. They brought out a deep feeling of shame, knowing they didn’t blame you for the distance but still being responsible for it nonetheless. 

“Of course.” Your mother talked while your father looked down. “It’s good to see you too. Come in, please.” Your father broke from her side to go sit down, while your mother opened the door to usher you in. You stepped forward, nodding at her in thanks as you passed her, joining your father where he sat.

“Um…” You faced both of them as your mom took the place by his side. How did you even start this? “Well, in a case I’ve been working on, somebody came up.” You couldn’t tell them he was alive. “And he just…seemed familiar, I guess. Did I know a boy named Spencer Reid growing up?” You watched the sparks of recognition ignite in their eyes as you said the name. Your mother’s grew teary, while your father’s seemed to harden. 

“Knew him?” Your mother chuckled at the thought of it being so simple. “You two were more in love than your father and I.” She rolled her eyes as she held your father’s arm, the man laughing lightly at her words.

 “He was the first friend you talked about. I remember picking you up from the first day of kindergarten and listening to you rave about the boy who was ‘smarter than the teacher’.” Her tone got lighter at the end, seemingly trying to imitate the excitement of your adolescent self. “You two were always close, you know?” She seemed to remember him fondly. “When you got older, you would get so defensive if  I asked after him so eventually I stopped. But I knew. I knew you two would end up together from your first playdate.” She was on the verge of tears, giggling at her own words as the stories she told surrounded her, smiling at the past. 

“His family really struggled. Such a sweet kid, him and his brother both. They were over here a lot.” Your father took the role of speaker as your mother’s emotions got the better of her. “We went back and forth for a while after the accident on whether to tell you or not. It just seemed cruel to. He died the night before you got hit, and you were such a wreck we just -” He struggled to find the words. “We considered it a blessing you didn’t remember him.” Your father’s guilt was apparent, twisting his features slowly as he explained their choices. “You were so in love, sweetheart. You didn’t know who he was when you woke up and we figured, you know, what’s the point? When the only thing that could come from it was pain, it just seemed futile.” 

You don’t think you blinked the entire time they were talking to you. You only knew you were crying when your vision went blurry, completely neglecting the beading of tears down your cheeks. You remembered the day your mother was talking about, seeing the children you once were illustrate the world in front of you. You could almost see his face, how it would have looked when he died, how he used to look at you. Like he was staring at the universe’s secrets, easing his hands through the veil to touch them - to touch you. You remember the feeling he gave you, something warm and distinct, reserved for the two of you only. If you could have seen yourself in the moments you shared, you’re sure you would have worn the same look in your eyes. 

You started speaking, but couldn’t manage much. “Yes, yeah, you’re right.” Reassurance usually worked well. “It was a…a good call.” You had trouble with your words, remembering the feelings of him but lacking the visuals. “Do you have any pictures?” Your mother nodded in response, detaching from your dad and going to retrieve something that held the memories you sought. 

“I’m-” Your dad started. “We’re sorry.”

You shook your head. Your parents were the last people who owed an apology. “It’s ok, dad. I’m glad you did it.”

“I could never myself look back at these. Thinking about what happened to them I just…I can never look at them knowing they’re gone.” Your mother re-entered the room holding a camera, dark pink and cheap. “It was meant to document your childhood, but he was around so much, it’s basically just a compilation of you guys.”

You held the thing in your hands. It was everything you wanted to happen but you couldn’t force your fingers to move. Did you even want this? He was alive, sure, but you’re certain the boy next to you in these photos would never see the light of day again. All your birthdays for thirteen years, field trips, science fairs, even just the two of you sitting together reading. It was all here. All consumable. You felt the urge to boil them down and burn your skin with the residue. Anything to keep a semblance of this life with you. You had a right to them, they were yours. Your teeth clenched at the sting of the absence. He had been yours and you couldn’t even remember. “Can I keep this?”

“Of course.” You’re sure the thoughts in your head were obvious to them, spinning like a cyclone in your eyes zoning out on the camera. “I’ve thought about giving it to you for a while now anyway.”

–

They’d made you lunch, then dinner. They told you tales of your past and you let them glance into your present. It was dark by the time you left, setting the goal to talk with them more. You walked to your car, having parked down the street, and tried to shake yourself out of the trance that house put you in. You thought you were seeing things at first, squinting slightly to focus on the chunk of passenger door that was shrouded with out of place darkness. Someone was leaning against your car. You didn’t feel defensive. 

“Spencer?”

“Hey.” He pushed off the door and walked closer to you, facing you on the sidewalk. You could see him now, lit up by a streetlight. He took you in, too. Glancing at your hand and grinning. “I remember that thing.” You had forgotten you were holding the camera until now. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I don’t know, honey.” He shrugged, matching your exhaustion at the situation. “I guess I wanted to see how much you remembered.” He looked at you, his eyes just as bright as they’d been a decade ago. “How much I could make you remember.”

You sighed. God, if only it worked that way. “Do you want to-” What the fuck were you thinking? “Do you want to come over?” You’d looked through every picture on that camera. You missed him. You missed him in your space, on your bed, waiting for you at the bus stop. That knot of feeling stuck only wanted to unravel if it were his hands tugging at it. “I can drive us.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise blending seamlessly with the undiluted hope he carried as a kid. “Ok.” He smiled, just a tiny lift at the corners of his lips. The image of that smile resting on his teenage face struck you so violently you felt it in your bones. You looked at him, starstruck. His presence was a trance of it’s own. 

“Ok.” You repeated him, trying to elongate the moment. You weren’t sure when you’d be ready to look away. He’d have to move first, and he knew it, so he walked to the passenger door. You blinked, grounding yourself, and unlocked the car. 

You were preparing for an awkward car ride, but clearly your subconscious was more than familiar with him, being silent with him came as second nature to you. You took the long way back to your house, trying to enjoy the comfortability as long as you could. He added an elevation to your existence that you hadn’t been aware you were lacking. You pulled into your driveway ten minutes later, parking and turning off the car. 

“Did you really not know where I lived?”

“No.” He was looking out your windshield, taking in the sight of where you felt safest. “I meant what I said. I never needed to. 

You walked into the house first, hearing him shut the door softly behind him. You’d been listening to see how he’d close it, not sure what it would tell you, but deeming it important regardless. He’d been nothing but respectful of your space both times he’d been here. You sat down, nodding your head to the chair near you. 

He let a moment pass, waiting to see if you had something to say. You had too much to say, too much to articulate. “I want you to leave with me.”

“Spencer-”

“Don’t.” His eyes were pleading, glistening with his unique mix of hunger and control. “Don’t write me off, Y/n. Nobody would know. They’re not gonna catch me. You can quit, and we can leave.” You looked away, down towards your hands. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.” It was all you’d been thinking about. Usually in dreams - obviously your mind was more up to date than you were. You were going to do it, you thought. Of course you were. You looked at him and knew you’d go anywhere he asked you to. Still, though, you had a life. One you needed time to wrap up before you could leave it. You were a federal agent, if you went missing, they’d send the entire nation to step on your heels. 

“Can I think about it?

He looked at you, suppressing a smile and tilting his head slightly. “Sure, honey.” He could read you so easily. He’d known he had you from the moment he asked. “I’ve still got two more.” The burning in your stomach wasn’t a resistance to the words. It was an admiration, a feeling you could wallow in. You weren’t an opposing force to him. Had you ever been? Truly?

“What happens if I don’t go?”

His eye contact had a way of transferring, enveloping any part of you it could reach. You were testing him. “Don’t force my hand, Y/n.”

You didn’t plan on finding out what that meant.

[dazai-ritualist]

Omg ! I didn't think you'd actually respond !! We're gonna fly away from here is easily one of the best ones in the series!! It's so Twisted and disturbing but almost domestic... (Also tysm for including my name idea in your story, Idk where it came from, I just liked it and I appreciate you!) I digress. I've returned with a concept. Al almost always has a plan when he does something. I don't know where you want to go with the second child but this won't be too focused on that one...for now. I really liked how you interpreted Alastor being a weasel and weaseling his way back into the families life and was thinking about how many I wonder about if he has a plan right now, like not a long term one, obviously, but a very specific one for a 'short term'. Women back then, especially in the south weren't allowed to have bank accounts so finicial trapping works well in this case. Also just kinda the ability to turn their kids against her would be enough to terify me. People talk about the 1950's housewife, but oh my god, 1920's housewives were a new kind of depressed. I, personally, don't think Alastor is the type of physically abuse women. No, he's far too classy for that. Instead, like I said, I think he'd either use his status in their house to trap his wife. We were able to run away while we were pregnant and alone, but we have a child now...and would we be willing to leave our child with him? No, I don't think I would, personally. This was just me rambling. K, love u, currently hyperfixated on this au. Byeee !!!! _ Cherry Anon!

DON’T REALLY WANT NO TRUST FUND BABY

[before reading this, read the rest of the story!]

— seems as if alastor found out your little secret

— UR TOO SWEET I SC THIS ON MY IG STORY AND YAPPED TO MY BOY BSF FOR AN HOUR AB IT IM BLUSHING SO HARDDDD!! ABUSE WAS LIT MY LAST SOCIAL STUDIES LESSON FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR MY TCH YAPPED AB FINANCE SO HARD 🤭🤭

being married to alastor, the radio show host is quite the sensation in your town. but, behind the closed curtains, alastor did things that would’ve made lucifer shake in his boots.

no, he didn’t hit you. his mother would kill him if he hit his wife. but, just because alastor never hit you, didn’t mean he didn’t abuse you.

he tormented you in the worst way possible, through noah. and now, emilia.

it’s been 3 years. your little emilia lives up to her name, a cute little girl who’s eager to win. and, little noah is now a big boy, double digits and all.

and, since you’ve returned back to his house, alastor has done nothing but twist your babies’ minds. ‘once upon a time, mama wanted to run away from daddy… so, she ran away and took big brother with her. daddy was sooo worried for mama and big brother though… daddy was able to track mama down, and took her home!’ he cooed to your daughter, bouncing her in his arms— with you right beside him!

you wanted to yell; scream. of course, emilia was too young to understand what alastor was saying. but, still— the fact that he was trying to tell your children that he was some sort of white knight who saved you from yourself. you wanted nothing less, but to snap that neck of his like a twig.

you really shouldn’t act so brashly though. to outsmart alastor, you have to think like him. think of what’s smarter in long run.

alastor was ‘kind’ enough to give you an allowance. $200 every week for groceries and whatever you may need. he’s even so kind as to let you have some ‘private bonding’ with noah and emilia as they accompany you to the farmer’s market.

thankfully, you had a father who wanted to make his little girl survived even without a husband. and so, you had to hear all of his ramblings about finance. saving about 45% each week for 3 years… was about $14,000!

if you saved just a little more, you’d be semi-financially independent until you can get a proper job to take care of your children. it was run-away money, so to speak.

you hid the money in noah’s room. after all, who would expect money there? especially $14,000? and, it worked, for a while. every monday, while you tucked him into bed, you brought the money with you and hid it behind his dresser.

until, what had seemed like a normal tuesday. you came home from the tailor’s, getting back a dress that noah accidentally tore. when you came home, it was only two hours after noon. and despite that, alastor was home.

“a-alastor..! what are you doing home so early? you have a broadcast in 2 hours…” you narrowed your eyes at alastor, on the floor with your children, many new toys surrounding them. “ah, darling! i decided to pick up our children early, and we may have splurged on our little shopping spree…” he smugly grinned. “oh..? where’d you get the money?” you raised your eyebrow, closing the door and laying your bearings on the dining table.

“funniest story ever, my love! there was a random stash of money in noah’s room! seems as if the tooth fairy came early!” he laughed. random stash of money in noah’s room..? “oh. i see.” your breath stopped for a minute, thinking of what kind of consequences could come from it.

“do you have any idea how that money landed there?” he side-eyed you, expecting a lie. “perhaps it was from the old owners? you know this house, there’s so many secrets in here.” you said. “i see… i suppose you are right, darling!” he giggled.

you were back on square one. financially dependent on your husband, if you could even call him ‘husband’. as you climbed up the stairs, you heard alastor whisper to your son. “you see that? momma lied. she got less talkative when papa asked her a question.”

this is what alastor’s been teaching your son. as much as you want to protest, you did lie.

oh, how much you wished for much more simpler times. playing with your baby boy in the kitchen as you make little treats together for his snack at school. and now, the boy alastor’s turning him into— a cunning sociopath, the lord only knows what he will teach your daughter.

this is just a minor setback, it has to be.

[bonefall]

Is Sandgorse still abusive in BB? If so does he still save Sparrow? Idk I think it'd be a neat thing for Talltail to brood on and move past once realizing the truth. Like just because your abuser did a "Good Thing tm" doesn't mean you have to forgive them or that all of a sudden it excuses their past a tion towards you.

Or did you remove this plot beat entirely? If so I don't blame you :P

Weird that Tumblr search isn't giving me all the stuff I tagged :/ hopefully after finals are done I can compile a 1st draft/The Story So Far for the rework of Tallstar’s Revenge

It's now called TALLSTAR’S COLLAPSE. It is actually a story I am rewriting with tragedy in mind. It's about Talltail fleeing WindClan with his starcrossed lover, Sparrow, only to eventually be drawn back to it where he becomes a perpetuator of all the things that made him leave.

To answer your question; Yes, and. Sandgorse is abusive and there's a LOT of nuance to this situation. I'm not sure if he still saves "Sparrow" though because I have waaaay more of a point in mind with Tallstar’s tumultuous relationship to him.

Summary of changes,

Tallstar's Collapse

Sparrow is the Clanmew name Jake takes when his group interacts with WindClan. His first language is actually a dialect of Townmew!

(Also Firestar has no known father in BB)

His group is nomadic. They go from place to place trading goods. I need a name for both them and their cultural "cluster" but in my head, Jake's family is the Algernauts because Algernon is the current leader

It's important the Algernauts are extremely endearing because leaving them is VERY painful

(and something i want to frame as the wrong choice for tallstar, emotionally)

WindClan is in a very sensitive period of its history. Before Tallstar was born, Heatherstar began the Mothermouth Moorland War, to take a very large parcel of land from ShadowClan. A good 1/5th of it.

Naturally this is a huge project and incredibly ambitious. Sacrifices Must Be Made

The sacrifice she has chosen to make is the death of tunneling. Because she's smothering it.

Tunneling is PEACEFUL, defensive at best. You can't dig them in a floodplain, they would be useless for holding the Mothermouth Moorland territory

Tallkit is born into a terrible position. Son of the head tunneler, mother in a terrible depression, and Heatherstar trying to pry a wedge between the "future" and the "past"

Im also planning to change his name. He was born Slowworm-Kit, which has a connotation of cleverness in Clanmew. To bully him, Shrewpaw calls him Wormtail, because Slowworms drop their tails if pulled. It means "you will get trapped in a cave-in, and when they pull your tail, it'll fall off"

But it doesn't translate well into English... so I'm not sure what his Heatherstar-given warrior name would be. Wormwing or Wormleap maybe, like he "defied fate" to become a wonderful moor-runner...

Or maybe the prefix is Drop? Droptail as the mean bully name and Dropflight as the warrior name...

Anyway, when he returns, Heatherstar welcomes back the extra claws and honors the lesson he learned with "Talltale." In Clanmew this is "Story-travelled," his leader name meaning "Tale-star."

Anyway. Back to the cat drama

Talltail (name pending) is in a tight spot. I kind of want to show everyone being a victim except Heatherstar herself, who has all the power in this situation.

Not that it excuses anyone

Sandgorse is watching something he loves dying, an ancient tradition passed down for generations. He is trying to force his son into a position he shouldn't HAVE to occupy, but his child is the one thing he might have any control over

(Until Tall breaks it ofc)

Tallpaw was just a kid. He needed to take out his bullying and the stress on something, and that was usually his mother and the concept of tunneling

Palebird has been completely neglected by her mate as he focuses on the person he WANTS his kid to be. She NAMED a Fading Kit, a serious social taboo, and even the support of the nursery and Woolytail can't pull her out before Tall's kithood is over

Heatherstar is using Tallpaw as a political pawn and Tallpaw is too young and hurt to realize it. He was given to her sister, Dawnstripe, and endlessly praised for his skill and talent in a time where he NEEDED positive feedback

Which is making his relationships with his parents worse

All the while, there's VIOLENCE. Regular raids and counterstrikes. Cats die and get injured, and it only escalates as Tall gets older and Cedarstar is reaching the end of his lives, hoping to end the conflict before then

And in all this chaos and uncertainty, there comes Sparrow.

Just a trader and an honored guest, there's been lots of these nomadic visitors since the time of Windstar herself, but they've become quite rare.

When Sandgorse dies suddenly in that collapse (TITLE DROP) Talltail has the push he finally needs. It's too much. He can't process this

Sparrow begs him to leave with them, they don't even need to confront anyone, just come!

IF IT SUCKS HIT DA BRICKS

I have tons of really nice little things planned for this part of the story. It's several chapters of Talltail being free.

He engages in the funeral rites of Wee Hen, asking if he may sit vigil for her. His new family is honored to allow it, Reena even tries to do it too and falls asleep

(Little sister energy)

They meet all sorts of people and go to many places. Talltail learns that the world is vast, and there's an endless amount of knowledge out here.

It all starts crashing down when him and Jake find a litter of abandoned kittens, and become parents.

They're a few moons old.. around the same age as his halfsibs back home.

It starts bringing back memories. He wonders how they're doing. If they made a nice grave for Sandgorse...

The sudden longing for his own mother strikes him like lightning.

For the first time in eons, he feels GUILT over leaving. He thought it was over-- he's living his own life now!

But what if they're hurt? What if there was a battle and he couldn't help? What if his mentor died and he didn't even know?

What kind of a horrible son doesn't even say goodbye?

The problems that made him leave seem so small now, and the homesickness is like acid leaking from his stomach, dissolving his guts and leaving him hollow

He's raising kits who will never know what it means to earn a title, or have a permanent home, or--

(Any of the other things he should have learned don't have meaning outside of clan culture. Things they wouldn't miss.)

He cherishes the memories he makes here, raising children with his mate, but something turns inside of Talltail. Like the groaning ache of a hundred stones on top of a decaying mineshaft

The REAL collapse is this. An existential crisis Talltail can't escape from.

And eventually, it comes tumbling down with one last, horrible nightmare.

In his dream, he came home only to find the sandy camp abandoned, the dens decrepit, full of musty scent and cobwebs.

Sandgorse was there. And they talked.

His dad was gruff as always, disappointed. But he didn't say anything the real Sandgorse would say.

The nightmare said, "You really did turn out like me. We both left your mother when she needed us. Turned our backs on our leader. And now we're both dead to WindClan."

Tall wakes up crying. Jake is there to comfort him, but the conversation they have is sad.

Jake tries to tell him that's all not true, and even if it WAS his dad, his dad sucked and would only say that to hurt him!

But... Tall can't believe it. Jake's right but also wrong. He IS all those horrible things.

And...... how can jake ever Understand? He does not know the Bonds of a Clan cat

(thought terminating cliche. Outsiders Cant Understand Our Bonds.)

He stays a few more days, but that nightmare was the end. And everyone sees the change.

The kits are apprentice-aged. He stayed until they would be old enough to keep up with the Algernauts.

And he says goodbye. He won't ever leave without saying goodbye ever again.

Jake says it doesn't have to be goodbye, he'll always love him, and they can visit! They can see each other again!

And Tall says yes. That this isn't the end. It's... see you later, my love.

(...but they both know how violent it's getting between Wind and Shadow. It isn't safe to visit.)

It is the end. But neither can admit it.

But after Tall is a fair distance away, one of his kits tackles him.

POSSIBLY Post-Tallstar's Collapse

Not sure if I'd put these in a novella or still make it part of it, but these are all directly related to the fallout of Tallstar's Collapse

Most likely is that there would be overlap between this and Brokenstar's Cataclysm, so the same events would be seen in different perspectives.

The kit's name is Fly. Tall has to wait for him to catch his breath and stop crying before they can talk.

Fly already lost parents before. He says he knows he can't make his dads stay together, "But PLEASE, papa, let me choose where I go this time!"

How could he say no? How could he send his son away after a plea like that?

He told him it would be hard. That he would be trained. That there would be dangerous fights.

Fly didn't care, he said he could be strong. He could do anything he needed to.

So... Tall took him to WindClan, where he became Flypaw. He became the warrior he promised he would be.

And Tall didn't notice how much the kid was changing until it was too late. Flytail took to it as if he was Clanborn-- but had to work twice as hard, fight thrice as viciously.

Though Talltail was graced with an Honor Title and open arms, he'd adopted his greatest rival.

Fly and Tall started competing for deputyship as soon as they finished training apprentices; Heatherstar had a fondness for the two of them.

In the end, Talltail won the spot by springing into action and saving Heatherstar's young nephew, a little golden tabby, from an adder.

Flytail continued as one of the more aggressive warriors in the Clan, surviving increasingly violent and bitter battles, until it came to a head in Heatherstar's Last Stand.

Her final battle as an old leader was a gruesome, definitive curbstomp in the last strategic point ShadowClan held above Carrionplace.

One of the losses was Lizardstripe-- neck snapped in Flytail's jaws.

Runningnose, and by extension, the oak-tree to his long-shadow, Brokentail, remembered this. Especially when Runningnose's father Mudfoot collapsed later that year.

As Talltail took leadership from the dying Heatherstar, a familiar regretful guilt wormed into his belly.

His son Flytail stood with a bloody mouth, eyes wet with sorrow, looking down at the leader Talltail once loved almost as much. Appreciating her sacrifice.

(secretly he didnt choose Deadfoot as his deputy just for his honor title or the battle move he invented... he chose him because there was a shocked, sorrowful look in his eyes at the fallen shadowclan cat. Sympathy seems more honorable in this moment.)

Tallstar is a wise leader... but his fatal flaw is naivety. How could he think he'd bring his son into WindClan, and not see the boy grow into a ferocious Warrior?

And naivety is what he displayed when he offered Raggedstar a peace deal. WindClan would keep the land, but they would pay a small tax of rabbits over the winter.

It was unprecedented. It was merciful. It was stupid.

When the winter was over, what would stop them from pushing further south?

Would they trade back the frogs and the flax, come summer?

On the blood and bones of so many warriors? As if giving up was ever an option?

Brokentail killed his father to prevent him from taking the deal, and reawakened Ripplestar's War Tactics.

BURN the peat. KILL the prey. OFFENSE is defense. A dead warrior is 10 less claws. A dead apprentice is 1 less warrior.

Stolen kittens are 1 more warrior on your own side.

Tallstar paid the ultimate price for letting Flytail follow him home that day. On the night of the massacre, Flytail went down fighting alongside a mate and a daughter. Dogpiled by Tangleburr and her squadron in revenge for Lizardstripe and Mudfoot.

Tallstar's granddaughter Stoneclaw, made a warrior and sitting for her vigil on that night, was the sole survivor of the little family.

The event stopped her from speaking again, like she's still sitting vigil.

Tallstar is a character who almost broke free of the control of the Clans. For a brief moment of his life, he was free.

He thought maybe he could change things a little, protect his Clanmates from the battles by being part of them, have the Mothermouth Moorland and protect the peace at the same time. But you CAN'T.

You can't fix broken systems without fundamentally changing them. He thought he could be a nice warlord and that would work on the Clan whose territory he had inherited. Power acts through people just as much as they act through power.

And that's Tallstar. He who travels the world, yet is never able to go far enough. Always falling just a little short of the point, believing that love and mercy is enough while blissfully ignorant of the pressures of pride and power.

Into this role, as a successor to this leader, Onestar is unwillingly thrust.

[turndecassette2]

I do remember those magic knight people! Every once in a while I go back on your blog to try to track down those drawings because I like them and the concept in the description so much. I would love to hear more about them. Do you have a story planned out?

yeah, vaguely. so for the cosmology; there's this dystopian city I desperately need to draw a map of built above the fossilised remains of an ancient hell. the city mines the hell for 'hell-flesh', a semi-sentient magical substance that's kind of the physical container of the souls of the damned. I suppose this is like fantasy rare earths for fantasy compute or w/e. this has been going on for a while and the city is, kiruna-style, gradually falling down the pit. also as more of the hell is laid bare, semi-autonomous demonic creatures are let loose, maybe as a kind of immune response against human incursion.

(imagining this sort of thing + branching passages. but in the middle of an italian intra-feuding city-state w a population ca modern day singapore)

a kind of grid of bridges and fortresses has been built above the pit to protect the fancier, upper parts of the city from the decaying/descending bits below. the lower city is mostly miners etc & due to the fucked up mutagenic influence of living near a hell & touching hell stuff all day the people in the upper city treat them with suspicion. there's a 'join the US navy-army-whatever to get health insurance & education & basic human dignity' or like french foreign legion situation where by joining the elite magic army manning the little fortresses, ppl from the lower city can gain some access to the upper. in the reverse I guess for the upper city ppl it functions a bit like 'the wall' in asoiaf where criminals, noble bastards etc go to maybe redeem themselves or die horribly.

the fire magic used by the guards to fight demons etc is derived from the burning corpse of a god that is said to have been there since before the founding of the city (presumably the entity responsible for the hell situation in the first place). by swearing fealty to this dead(-ish) god one gets the ability to summon his divine flame but you forfeit your chance at an afterlife, or maybe you go to hell (no-one is quite sure). everyone kind of assumes once the body is fully burned the god will return/reincarnate (and either save or destroy the city, depending on who you ask).

the politics part; at its founding the city was part of some empire that has since collapsed (pretty recently). the city is dependent on trade to stay viable/fed and to appease the new warring states/mini-empires that have sprung up around it. the current ruler is a reclusive young queen & she has her favourite lord/advisor, an ageing academic who is sort of trying to liberalise the place or make it superficially less fashy. other lords dislike this & are working to either find her a proper king or hasten the return of some deity or other that will return the place to its former glory.

I guess the story? has this noble child bastard protagonist from a shady family* of word-mages who is sent to the 'centre' fortress & works her way up to become the apprentice of some hero-knight demon slayer guy with a possibly shady past (I think rn the name I have for the guy is Chaimé & idk if this is a good name? like the spanish jaime but w more e, & the tiny bastard is Myia I think). I imagine her being the sasuke to a happier, more popular girl who saves her from a demon (embarrassing) then is outed as a half-demon herself (she's the redhead in the drawings) & Myia warms up to her as she (demon girl) becomes increasingly isolated from the outside city (being supposedly dangerous or too powerful? I don't think Myia has much natural magic or w/e in her aside from being a nerd & very persistent).

sorry there's a lot here that would be SPOILERS if I ever actually made this into something coherent enough to be an actual comic ha ha. the knight/mentor guy gets dragged into a kind of fantasy 'business plot' & I guess part of that would be like, seeing to what extent he goes along with it & if he's actually a good person ha ha. + there's a bunch of other characters w stuff going on that I haven't figured out the looks of yet but. they're important in my head. the big bear-ish bf guy who gets sent on an expedition down the pit etc

* I have a distinct image of these people living hidden away in some gormenghast-style estate. they've habsburged themselves into being mostly deaf but the only ones around who can fully read/write the divine language that lets them do word-based magic & the other houses kind of have to put up w their weirdness. also scheming nobles in dune using sign language is 1 of my favourite things in the new film adaption & I like the idea of outsiders being forced to learn to sign (or else being cut-off from higher level magic) as some sort of power move? I don't think they involve themselves that much in politics since that's below them but are def part of the 'bring the gods back' thing, for better or worse. anyway after 'avas demon' (GUILTY PLEASURE I know it has such pretty colours but comes from such an unhinged part of the internet, will never stop apologising for this) started posting again I realised it had a character w the same look & vibe so will try and re-design protag girl to look more like this cute person I saw in a fashion post on IG

... let's see how this goes. came up w all this BS after some viz lady at comicon asked me if I wanted to make them a manga but it's grown from being too little to being too unwieldy to pitch. will see after I finish up my current projects. how much blood, swearing & genocide can a story have before it stops being YA. I think chainsaw man is sort of YA but dorohedoro isn't

[hoshinoyozora]

The Queen

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Riddle Rosehearts x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 0,7k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!***

Idk much about Alice in Wonderland and I forgot about this part sorry so I decided to make it up instead lmao.

The queen was a strong figure, both in chess and in real life.

She ruled the kingdom with an iron fist, oversaw the society with hawk eyes, and ordered the subjects with clear-cut words. People parted ways for her, and sometimes, some of them just had to topple over. Subtly or forcefully.

Just like your pawns right now, as Riddle secured yet another victory. Regardless of how small it was, it still brought him closer to your king.

And closer to your defeat.

“It seems that you’re not very adept in chess game, [Name].” he remarked, smirking. “Why don’t you save your energy and declare your loss instead? Trey is currently baking your favorite cake, and we can have a tea party to celebrate your obedience.”

You scowled, willing yourself to stay silent. You hated how he treated you like a child at best, and a prisoner at worst. Then again, Riddle was the Queen of Hearts; the leader of Wonderland. And you, an alien from The World Above. It was expected that you wouldn’t know about the rules of this world, just as you wouldn’t know about the Queen’s longing for affection. You would’ve thought of it as pathetic, if not for your own predicament.

Because it wasn’t enough that you fell into the rabbit hole, you had to fall into his arms too.

Despite what many people thought, including his closest aides, your ‘love’ story wasn’t romantic. Far from it, actually, and the ‘perks’ that came as his ‘King’ only served to tighten the collar on your neck.

The black queen stood two squares away from your white king, exactly on the black square. Yours was on the white one, cornered like your situation right now. Riddle had promised that he’d let you go if you won a match, but the skeptical part of you wondered if his subordinates would allow you to. During your short time here, you’d saved not only him from his own loneliness, but also the poor victims from his, sometimes unjustified, wrath. It wouldn’t be a surprise if they decided to use you as a shield even further by entrapping you here. This was a mad, mad world you lived in, and absolutely anything could happen.

You pushed the king to the side, trying to widen the gap between him and the queen. She moved one square forward, and you wondered why she wasn’t in your row already. Was he toying with you? Giving you an illusion of hope and security? This might just be the cruelest Riddle you’d ever seen, and you’d yet to witness his worst side if you tried to escape literally.

The king sidled to another square, and Riddle did the unexpected yet logical thing; he pushed one of his rooks to your rank.

You lost.

And an hour hadn’t even passed since you started the match. No matter what kind of plan you had, no matter what kind of move you’d take, the end result would still be the same anyway.

Your king would die on the battlefield.

“Go ahead. It’s your turn now.”

Always the stickler for rules, Riddle had yet to declare his victory. Regardless, it’d always been assured since the beginning. You were just prolonging the inevitable, grasping at the light at the end of the tunnel. Or hole.

Swallowing, you reluctantly pushed your last piece forward and watched as the queen brought him to his knees. Riddle’s calm yet smug ‘checkmate’ remained unheard in your shocked disbelief, and you wished for nothing more than to repeat the game over and over again. Was it possible to reverse the clock, when you could change your height to any size? There had to be a potion or a magic book somewhere.

But there was a limit to the Queen’s kindness, it seemed. Or, rather, his amusement. Just like the Chess King, the King of Hearts was fated to accompany his wife until the end of time.

And as Riddle claimed his prize by cradling your frozen self, it occurred to you how long the Queen of Hearts could live or if she was even capable of dying.

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 2

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.8K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

I had a real rough time figuring out the proper voice for Pedro's dialogue and I hope I did him justice. Either way, the support I received for part 1 is astounding and completely unexpected! Thank you all for reading and let me know what you think :) I plan to continue until the story wraps up, but I don't know how many parts that will be. I hope to post every couple days, but with my work schedule it may be less speedy. Here we go!

You walk in the door, unclipping Skip's leash, slipping off your shoes, and dropping your keys on the countertop before flopping onto the couch and unlocking your phone. No. Fucking. Way. 

Pedro Pascal (pascalispunk) replied to your message. 

You dissected each letter of the username, assuming it couldn't possibly be THE Pedro Pascal… but it was. It really, really was. You clicked the message, holding your breath.

Pedro Pascal replied to you: "Hey, you don't need to thank me. I didn't say anything that wasn't true. That guy was out of line. You deserve happiness and I'm sorry for the harsh words you've been hearing. I appreciate you sharing your vulnerability with the world and hope that you will continue to be your genuine self and ignore the comments trying to make you be someone else. Don't listen to those people."

You stared in disbelief at his words, once again wondering why he would ever be so kind to someone he doesn't even know. Someone so childish and stupid to write a song about a man she doesn't know. I can't imagine he'd think these things if he knew it was about him…

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I'm a big fan of yours and hearing that you're in my corner has me completely at a loss. I can't imagine why you would risk damaging your image by defending a girl…" No… don't say girl, it makes you sound like a child. You want this guy to like you! You backspace with a slight feeling of ridiculousness over the whole scenario. Ugh it's all wrong… calm down... calm down… it's just a conversation. He doesn't know you. He doesn't like you. Don't make it weird like you always do.

You try again.

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I really admire your work and for you to say such kind things to me… to think that you're in my corner, has me completely at a loss for words. I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment when you don't even know me, especially when coming to my defense could potentially harm your image… but thank you."

He read it almost immediately. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt like you could throw up from the anxiety and adrenaline. After a few seconds, those stress-inducing dot-dot-dots appeared to show you he was typing.

He's actually replying to me?? Again? Doesn't he have better things to do? 

Your mind wandered to what he might be doing while he's messaging you. Sitting at his home, relaxing, taking the time to reply to you? Why? Maybe he's on a plane or waiting for something and killing time. Maybe he's- *ping*

Pedro Pascal replied to your message:

"Please, you can call me Pedro.. and as far as defending you, it doesn't matter to me that we don't know each other personally. You seem like a woman with a good heart, and all you did was share your true self. Nobody deserves to be talked poorly about for something harmless that they feel. If something like that hurts my image… then my true self wasn't being represented. I think we all just want to be seen, and I hope that you will feel comfortable to be yourself and show yourself more."

You don't know when you started crying, but you hiccupped with the overwhelming wave of emotions. He sees me.. you had just scrolled to the bottom of the long reply, when you noticed the "..." of typing again. He has more to say?!

Pedro Pascal: "As far as the subject of your song.. whether you choose to reveal that to him, or the world, you deserve love and respect. Being vulnerable and putting yourself out there is a terrifying thing to do, and I myself tend to close myself off from relationships to avoid that potential for getting hurt. But if that's what you want, you've already taken a big step and you should go for it. I hope that whoever he is gives you the respect and love you deserve."

Holy crap…

He doesn't… he doesn't know it's him right?? No. There's no way. He's just being nice… he's too nice. He's too genuine..??

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, doing a little dance in the air, pondering what to say. How much can I share with this man? Between this crush and his kind words, it's feeling tricky to hold back from spilling too much information.

You: "Thank you Pedro. You're too kind and I can't properly explain how much I really appreciate it. I'm having trouble coming to terms with all the sudden attention, and finding it hard to ground myself. But your words are helping me a lot. I - "

You hesitated over your next words, wondering if you should open up or just leave it. Don't be weird… don't scare him away like you always have with everyone else. As much as you think of disclosing your hesitation and lack of experience with relationships, as well as your reasons for trepidation, you decide to spare him of your self-hatred. Instead, you delete that last letter and hit send. 

Then you send another message, like he did. "And as far as the guy… I know I don't know him personally, we've never met, but I can already tell he would treat me right. I just hope maybe someday he will love me back."

Immediately after sending it you regretted it. That felt way too open and vulnerable. What are you thinking!?! Shit… what if he sees through you!?

You hold your finger down on the message, ready to hit unsend before he sees it. But it's too late. He's already replying.

Pedro: "He would be stupid not to love you back."

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

You: "Thank you, Pedro. 🥺" Play it cool… Play it cool…

Pedro: "Of course, sweetheart. Feel free to message me if anyone else gives you trouble or you just want to chat. I enjoyed talking with you."

???!!!!!?????!!!!! SweetheartSweetheartSweetheart

You grabbed your nearest pillow and screamed into it. "SKIPPPPPEERRRRRRR!!!!!! I JUST HAD A CONVERSATION WITH PEDRO AND IT WAS MAGICAL AND AAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!" You squealed.

Skipper lifted his head at you and sighed before setting his head back down. He was no stranger to your shenanigans. Napping after a good walk was a better use of his energy than to deal with your drama. He closed his little brown eyes again.

You lay back on the couch, kicking your feet and squeezing your pillow to your body.

Fuck, this is going to hit me like a truck if it goes sour. If he even realizes it's about him, probably. Crap… what am I going to do?

The next day, you woke up and checked your emails before work. Thankfully nobody at your workplace has seemed to place your singing voice to your speaking voice, or pieced together the fact that several people know you have a crush on a certain celebrity and are a musician. Thank goodness. That’s the last thing you need.

You closed your eyes for a few minutes, trying to calm your breathing, your nerves, and your heart rate, before relaxing and shaking out your body. Finally, you decided to get ready for bed and see what tomorrow brings.

Your emails come in, one by one, with one intriguing email at the top, from a well known pop-culture show called The Jazz & Ally-Kat Show. They want to do an interview with you, live, as soon as possible. 

Great. They probably just want to see what I look like or have me spill my guts about my crush. You roll your eyes, and you can’t help but feel like the Mandalorian with his lack of face reveals. If only you had a cute little space baby to accompany you. I guess Skip is my own precious cargo in a way, you think, while looking at your still sleeping pup. You're being silly… Not everything needs to relate back to Pedro, you think with a sigh to yourself. 

Yet despite your anxiety, you agreed to their interview, with the exception that it was done as a podcast style interview, where simply your voices are featured. Surprisingly, they agreed. I guess everyone likes some drama, and what better way to get views than by having a little mystery.

The interview was scheduled for three days from then, and in the meantime you focused on work and your album, which was mostly finished after years of writing songs. All it needed was some editing.

As the days went by, you wanted desperately to message Pedro again. You wanted to tell him your feelings. Have him confess that he loves you too. Ask him about his family, his friends, his favorite things. Meet him, kiss him, fall in love, and finally be happy. But ultimately you knew that was silly. You had one little conversation, and although it was nice, you still didn't know each other. There was no way he loved you back. Yet…? you asked yourself, hopeful, almost asking for permission to let yourself try and earn his love. 

Despite Instagram drawing you in like a magnet, you held back from messaging him. You didn't want to come on too strong. You messaged him first last time. He doesn't know you. Literally… he doesn't even know your real name, or what you look like. But maybe that's a good thing…

_____The day of the interview:_____

You woke up around 9:30 in the morning; nervous, slightly nauseated, restless, and jittery. Why did I agree to this??! 

You decided to pass on the coffee this morning, figuring it would make things worse, and instead decided to take Skipper for a walk. After some fresh air followed by a refreshing shower, you looked at the clock. 11:30 AM. With the interview at 1PM, you still had some time to kill and sat down at the piano, letting your mind wander to Pedro while you plunked chords out with nimble fingers. I wonder if Pedro has ever wanted to learn any instruments… I could teach him, you daydream.

Your hands dance across the piano while he reads through a script in the other room, eyebrows furrowed as he highlights another line. You look up over the grand piano and see his soft brown curls blowing under the fan haphazardly. The sun is shining in through the window, which Skip bathes under, and reflects a golden brown undertone with gray streaks in Pedro's hair. He really is beautiful, you think. His tongue swipes across his lips as he makes notes and erases, before finally feeling your eyes on him. He glances up from the script, giving you a soft smile and a wink; with those chocolate brown eyes that frequently cause you to lose your train of thought. Your eyes drift down to the keys again, feeling a soft blush creep over your cheeks. 

"That music sounds beautiful, baby.." he says softly while padding up to you behind the piano. He places his large hands on your shoulders, sweeping them down over both your arms before settling on your hands, still resting over the black and white keys. You look over your shoulder and he leans in, closing his eyes as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Just like that scene in Narcos… you think. Yikes, I really am obsessed… anyway… you think back to your daydream…

He sits down at the chair next to your piano bench, kissing your lips again gently, then the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and your jaw. Your stomach gives a wave of butterflies and you lean in more to kiss him deeper, tugging on his hair while his hands find the small of your back, gently running his palms up your spine. A chill overcomes you and he-

~Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.~

Fuck. You snap out of your fantasy and turn off the alarm you set to go off ten minutes before the interview. At least I gave myself time to use the restroom and wash my face, you think, hoping to clear your head a bit now that you're slightly frazzled.

Unfortunately the feeling that replaced it was nerves as you sat down at your desk, typing into your keyboard, turning on your mic, and hoping that Skipper doesn't throw a fit over the wind or something while you're on this call.

Jazz: "Hi there listeners! We're joined by the artist of the moment, our favorite lovesick lady, the singer responsible for "Imaginary Love!"

Both women on the other end of the call applaud.

Well… not sure I like being called a lovesick lady but what else did I expect, really?

You: "Thank you guys for having me, I appreciate you wanting to get to know me better."

Despite the rough start, the ladies turned out to be really respectful and fun. You think that if the circumstances were different, you could actually be friends with them. You discuss casual things like your dog, your favorite activities and favorite pop culture topics (careful to avoid mentioning Pedro or any other actor that could be perceived as your lyrical subject), and they even mention celebrity crushes they've had growing up. 

At the mention of their celebrity crushes, you can feel the interview funnel into a dangerous alley with little to no escape. Jazz was the first to broach the subject. "So… we've just discussed our celebrity crushes, and I think I speak for all of us here when I say we're all very curious to know who-"

-an air horn blares-

What the hell is that? You wonder, both thankful for the interruption, yet startled by the disruption.

They both chime in: "Viewers!!! Do you all know what that sound is!?! We have reached 1 million listeners!!!!"

To say you were astounded is an understatement.

You: "You're kidding!? 1 million people are listening to us right now?"

Ally: "You bet they are! And listeners… I don't know about you guys… but I can't help but wonder if our celebrity heartthrob is one of those million?"

They turn their attention to you again. "What do you think? Think he's listening?"

You're thankful for the lack of a camera, because you can't help but blush at the thought. You'd be lying if you hadn't already considered (hoped) that he was listening too. 

Jazz: "So as we were saying… I think we all are in agreement that we want to know who he is. You sound like a nice enough girl, so what's holding you back? You've made it. You can contact him now and he'll probably reply."

I already have… you thought with a smirk.

Jazz continues: "Which brings me to the next point... I know you've had a lot of attention lately. You were signed to a record company, you were contacted by us, you've been mentioned by a few talk shows and celebrities. Pedro Pascal even publicly defended you. The radio has been playing your song nonstop and people can't get enough. What do you think of all this attention?"

You: "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit surprised and maybe a little scared," you answered with a nervous laugh. "But I am so thankful for the kind words that I receive and I love hearing from people who can relate to my music."

Ally: "You've certainly received your fair share of criticism too. It sounds like you received that before your song was ever published as well."

You: "I have, and it's been challenging to try and not let it get me down. But I'm trying my best, and the positives seem to be greatly outweighing the negatives," you state, your mind thinking of Pedro and how his messages were really the only positive you needed to get you through the dark storm of criticism.

Ally: "I guess what I'm wondering is.. among all these people contacting you.. has he?"

You try to play dumb: "Has who?"

Both interviewers laugh before Ally continues. "Nice try. You know who we're trying to find out about. Has he, the man of your dreams and star of your lyrics, contacted you at all? Will we see a romance blooming?"

Your stomach flipped. You were not expecting this question. Should you tell the truth??? It's not like they could know who has contacted you, short of hacking your account. You have had a lot of people contact you, after all.

You take a deep breath before answering. "I uh… I have received a lot of messages, some of them from celebrities."

They reply, and you can practically feel them leaning in. "Yeeeeaaaah?????"

You consider your next move, your heart really working overtime since this whole thing started. Finally you decide your answer.

"Yes. We've talked."

Looking for Track 1? Read it here!

Next chapter: Here!

~Thanks for reading! Stay ~tuned~ for more!

Taglist: Let me know if you want in :)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02

[goddessxdivine]

i need Danai and Andy to confirm that there’s gonna be some kind of continuation of TOWL because all I do is spend time thinking of what richonne might be doing now that they’re reunited with their kids and i need a real answer.

my current Richonne obsession: the future richonne baby that is undoubtedly on the way

i can understand why some people want richonne to have time with their kids then choose to have another child. it would be beautiful and intentional which is something that matters when it comes to richonne. however I’ve come to like the idea of michonne being pregnant already. so my solution to this to get the best of both worlds is that michonne doesn’t know that she’s pregnant yet …

most women don’t know that they’re pregnant until about 8 weeks (more or less since it depends). let’s say michonne is early stages like 2-3 weeks by the time that they get back to Alexandria and doesn’t know yet. richonne spends some time with their kids and they go on dates and they get caught up on what they missed. one of these dates they talk about how much they love their family and how it would be nice to experience being parents together from start to finish. and since we know rick is a romantic, who is very madly in love with michonne, i can just see him already have it all planned and pictured in his head. he expresses to michonne that he wants to be there to get her whatever she’s craving, to see the baby on the sonogram and hear the heartbeat, read /talk to her belly, see their baby be born this time, hear their first word, first steps, and just all the things they didn’t get to do together with rj. michonne agrees (of course) and says she’d love for them to experience that too. they both agree though that as much as theyd love to have another baby, they can wait a little on actively trying so they can get more settled in since they’ve only been home for about a month. a couple weeks go by and michonne is realizing it may be time to take a little pregnancy test.

i can’t decide what I’d prefer in terms of the reveal. on one hand, I think it’d be cute for michonne to include rick every step of the way. she tells him she thinks she’s pregnant and he’s there for them to see the results of the test together. on the other hand, I think it’d be cute for michonne to take the test herself and then plan some kind of special way to tell rick. i’ve loved the idea of surprising your partner with the news since I was a kid and saw becky from full house try to tell jesse she was pregnant by making him a dinner that was baby themed (she had baby carrots, baby corn, etc), if i remember correctly becky was nervous to tell jesse cause they hadnt planned it but with richonne that’s obviously not the case. I think it’d be cute for michonne to excitedly plan something intimate for just her and rick so she can tell him they’re having a baby.

or maybe even a secret third option idk lol but either way i think almost any execution of a richonne pregnancy reveal that is trauma-free is what they deserve and what we deserve.

i need amc to throw soooooo much money at Danai, Andy, and Scott and promise them everything they could want to continue this story. alternatively maybe amc can contract the three of them to write romcoms outside the twd that stars Danai and Andy. just saying anything at this point 😭😭 but i just need them back on my screen happy! and i need it real bad. real real bad

[uncleskyrule]

thanks for the tag, @chatwiththeclouds! posting on my LoZ/Sky: CotL blog bc why not ^^

(i added a couple more entries that i thought would be fun)

favorite color: wait i answered this question ages ago in a kind of poem. ok here it is. short answer, dark blue

last song: "Bewitched" by Laufey

last series: the last one i finished was Spy x Family

last time outside: yesterday evening rip

last meal: homemade barbecued pork chops with rice and salad

sweet, savory, or spicy? SOUR!!! but if i can't have that then savory ig

currently working on: my Linktober fics! idk if i'll get to them all (still haven't finished last year's) but i have some really fun ones planned

currently playing: Sky: Children of the Light and Tears of the Kingdom

currently wearing: black sneakers, oversized gym shorts i got from my quarantine in Korea (long story), Korean language program shirt, circle glasses, and my wrist braces bc these ligaments are WEAK

currently reading: LoZ fanfic, The Two Towers, my printed version of The Grueling Task of Becoming Right-Handed (BotW Link fic), the Gospel of Luke, AND something i forgot in my last tag game post--an ASL dictionary lmao

no pressure tags: @hallofharmony , @tigers-eyes-26, @adrift-in-thyme , @awkwardpossum0, @skyloftian-nutcase, @charbies, @telemna-hyelle, @fatefulfaerie, @whyoneartheven, @cervideity, @blossomingwaters

plus whoever wants to join!

[hllfireclb]

"I‘ll make you feel better Princess“ | Older!eddie X Fem!reader

Pairing: Older Eddie X Fem Reader (reader is 21, Eddie in his 30‘s)

Warnings: +18 MINORS GO AWAY ISTG, Age gap, slight Daddy kink I think?? hurt / angst,pet names, smut, eddie being a soft meanie, oral (f receiving), if I missed something pls let me know!

Word count: 2.3k

a/n: I’m such a simp for older Eddie x reader <\\\3 so I HAD to write something about it..this is my first time trying to write smut and idk how to feel about it. Maybe it’s kinda rushed? Idk :“)

English is not my first language, so I apologize for all kinds of mistakes! Feel free to send requests! feedback is always appreciated but please be nice! Enjoy the story! Don’t like? Don’t read!

Masterlist

It‘s a cold fall night in Hawkins Indiana, 2am to be exact. You should be lying in your bed by now, cuddled up between your plushies and pillows to get some sleep before work tomorrow. Instead you’re here. Sitting in your older neighbors lap while he‘s softly playing with your hair. Your back is pressed against his strong chest, enjoying the comfortable state you’re currently in as his body gives you some warmth. He‘s like your personal human heater. Your eyes are focused on the small screen in front of you, watching whatever lame sitcom is playing at this time, when a soft sigh escapes your lips.

"What is it Sweetheart?“ the deep voice of your fathers co-worker suddenly interrupts your silent staring contest with the screen of the TV. "What do you mean?“ is all you say, not daring to look away from the screen but Eddie has other plans. He wraps his strong arms around your hips, making you face him within 2 seconds and without any struggle. He‘s expecting to see your pretty eyes staring back at his but instead he finds you looking slightly downward, directly onto his chest. His fingertips poke into your side, a sign for you to look at him, but you don’t. You‘re avoiding his gaze on purpose.

"You know exactly what I mean, young lady. What‘s going on in that pretty head of yours?“ his voice is soft but daring. He wants to know what made you come over to his old, messy trailer. Especially because it’s 2am on a Wednesday night and because he knows you have to get up early tomorrow. If you‘re not going to tell him on your own, he‘s going force it out of you.

This time it‘s his turn to let out a heavy sigh after no reaction of yours. One of Eddie‘s hands finds it‘s way to your jaw, gripping it hard to lift your head up a bit and making you look at him. This time your eyes meet with his instantly. They’re beautiful brown, almost like the color of chocolate. His pupils are expanded, not as wide as they are when he‘s horny but just enough to see the pure adoration and concern in his eyes. A simple look of his is all you need to start blushing like a crazy teenager who‘s madly in love.

It‘s not the first time that Eddie looks at you that way. He has done it many times before but ever since the two of you started this little 'affair', how you like to call it, it just feels so much different. So much better. Eddie and you have known each other since you were 16 years old, he actually took care of you sometimes too. Whenever your father was on one of his "business trips" or out partying, Eddie happily decided to look after you. He made you breakfast, watched over you when you had some parties at yours, he drove you to school and picked you up again. People in town started to think that Eddie Munson had found his "lost daughter“ how they liked to call you. But you‘re still pretty much convinced that he‘s just doing all of that for you, because he knows how it feels to grow up without parents. Without a father figure especially.

"Are you gonna talk to me, or do you just wanna keep staring, Princess?“ his voice pulls you out of your thoughts once again, the nickname he has given you making you shiver under his touch slightly. "Sorry..'s just that you‘re really fucking pretty" your lips form into a soft smile. The grip on your jaw loosens up as Eddie gives you his usual, deep chuckle. Your favorite sound ever, next to his moans. His hand wanders down your body until it‘s settled on your hips, drawing slow circles into the flesh of your barely covered ass. "Well…y‘know I appreciate your compliments. But you gotta talk to me Angel, what made you come over to an old man like me at that time, mh?" You stay silent again, causing another sigh of Eddie‘s but before he‘s able to continue talking, you start talking.

"It‘s just..my dad was being an asshole again. I didn’t want to argue with him…so I left. And I thought coming here was the best thing to do.." you shyly admit while looking down to his chest once again. Not daring to look up, he’s probably smirking like always. Teasing you. Your fingers slowly start dragging over the soft material of his tank top, playing with the hem of it as you reach the bottom. Eddie stalks over your hands, following every single movement with his eyes. Gosh he thinks you‘re adorable like this. Sitting there, in one of his old Shirts and your panties only, right on his lap, while you’re playing with his clothes. He probably shouldn’t be head over heals for a younger women, especially not you since he has known you, since what feels like forever. Plus, you’re his co-workers daughter who just started working. All of this is so wrong. But it feels so goddamn right.

"You want me to make you feel better Princess? I‘ll take care of you, no matter what you want me to do" and he means it. If you need to cuddle up to his chest and ball your eyes out, he‘ll be the one to hold you close to him and let you wet his shirts with your tears. If you want to punch someone, he‘ll be the one to let you punch him. If you need a hot chocolate and ice cream, he‘ll drive to the next supermarket and get you everything you need. If you need to get fucked until you‘re nothing but a crying, cock-drunk Slut, oh he‘ll happily be the man to make you cry beneath him. He‘d do anything for you.

Your fingers make their way up to his chest again, locking your gaze with his carefully as you do and nod in response to his earlier question. "Words y/n." Of course he needs words. "Please make me feel good Eddie". That‘s all he needs. "I’ll make you feel better Princess".

Before you know it you’re flipped over, lying on your back with the soft material of the couch touching your back. Eddie‘s fast with his movements though. He’s hovering above you in the split of a second, pressing his wet lips onto yours as he kisses you messily. He may be older now but he’s still kinda chaotic when it comes to making out. You love it though. You softly moan into the kiss when one of his hands starts massaging your left boob, slowly playing with it as his other hand wraps around your throat to give it a soft squeeze.

He‘s lying between the fat of your thighs just as fast as you were lying on the couch. His arms wrap around your legs after he slowly pulls down your panties, smiling a bit because of the wetness that already lingers between your folds. He drags them all the way down, to your ankles before he sits up again, removing them completely and leaving you in front of him in nothing but his shirt. What a beautiful sight. You mirror his action, sitting up straight with your hands at the hem of his shirt. When he realizes you’re about to pull it off, he stops you.

"Keep it on please. You look stunning in this shirt" he smiles at you. Before you‘re able to protest, his lips are on yours again, moving slowly as the two of you find a steady rhythm. Going slow and passionate this time. You feel the light pressure he‘s putting into the kiss, a sign for you to lie down again. You happily follow his unspoken request and lie down, spreading your legs wider so he‘s able to get comfortable between your thighs. His arms wrap around your legs and hips once again and he slips even further until his lips graze over the skin of your inner thigh, making you gasp softly.

You‘re able to feel a smug grin form on his lips after he starts sucking on your skin slightly, leaving you with a few dark marks that only you and him will be able to see. A hot feeling starts to build up in your body, causing you to whimper softly. "Ed’s please..no teasing today. I need you" you sigh. Eddie doesn’t want to tease you, well at least not right now…but he wants to take his sweet time with you. He wants to worship your body in every way possible. He wants to show you how much he loves to make you feel good. To him, it doesn’t matter if he gets off on it. His only goal is to make you cum…also, most of the time he cums in his pants like a dumb teenage boy, just from hearing and seeing you fall apart beneath him.

"Sorry Sweetheart, just wanted to mark what‘s mine" he winks at you before pulling you even closer, making you gasp again after his tongue slowly starts drawing slow circles on your, already aching, clit. The two of you never spoke about what actually is going on with you..if you’re a couple already or not..but you couldn’t care less right now. Sweet Eddie really loves taking his time, devouring every soft moan and gasp of yours as he starts giving your bud the softest kitten licks. His slow make-out session with your clit doesn’t last long though, he knows what you need and he‘ll gladly give it to you. So his tongue starts to lick through your folds, which are soaked in your own juices by now, enjoying the taste of you in his mouth as he starts playing with your hole.

Normally he‘d be wearing his tongue piercing right now since he loves eating you out with it. It’s his new favorite thing to do, ever since you’ve told him that it makes you cum even faster, even harder…but because of the time you’ve decided to come over, he‘s sadly not wearing it. He‘ll definitely catch up to that tomorrow morning. While his tongue starts to happily explore your insides, one of your hands settles in his messy curls to tug on it every now and then. It helps you to find a hold and to not squirm away from him.

"Eddie Fuck! 'S so good“ you moan out softly while tugging on his hair, when his thumb lazily starts massaging your clit. He ate you out so many times by now, he just knows the ways to make you feel good. To make you forget everything. Others would get tired of cumming so fast, but you? Oh no, you love it. Especially because Eddie is so outrageous good at making you cum several times. With every soft tug on his hair, his own moans start to get louder…causing you to shiver and curl your toes into the sofa. He knows what he’s doing, that’s for sure.

Another moan escapes your lips, this time it‘s louder and more intense, causing Eddie to grin and stop his actions. "Already close, huh? Babe I didn’t even eat you out for five minutes" his smirk is devilish, causing your poor Pussy to twitch. He’s teasing you. "I told you to not tease me!" You pout at him. Oh how he loves seeing you like this, cheeks pink and chest moving up and down rapidly because of how hard you‘re breathing. "Yeah, yeah right..sorry" he grins even wider when he puts more pressure to your clit, causing your head to fall back and a whine to leave your mouth.

He‘s fast with continuing his previous actions, eating you out like the starved man that he is. He can’t get enough of you, especially of how you taste on his tongue. He slurps up every bit of juice, every moan of yours as he stares up at you, seeing you fall apart on his tongue only. It‘s embarrassing how fast you‘re at your own limit, feeling the knot in your lower abdomen build up already just from him eating your out. Pathetic. You slowly look up again, seeing his eyes stare directly back at yours. His black pupils took over the soft brown color which you were able to see earlier, the lust and the Hunger completely took over him by now. He grins wide when he catches you staring down at him, causing you to blush even harder as another moan escapes your lips.

You can feel your legs start twitching after a while and your breath starts to speed up a bit, Eddie feels it too. His grip on your hips tightens and his tongue starts moving faster as he moans into you. You don’t notice how he starts humping the soft material beneath you, trying to get some relief himself while he rubs intense circles on your clit. Another loud moan of yours fills the living room as you feel the knot in your tummy snap "ohmygodohmygodohmygod Eddie!! Fuck fuck fuck!". It‘s music to Eddie‘s ears. The best melody he has ever heard. Knowing he‘s the only one who makes you cum this hard and this fast makes him moan into you again as he tries to get everything of your orgasm. Eating everything up like it‘s his last meal. He takes you through your orgasm,while he helps you to calm yourself down by drawing smooth circles into your skin. When you‘re finally completely back to earth, he kisses your pussy one last time before he helps you to sit on his lap once again, holding you close.

"What about you? You didn’t get to cum and I know how painf-" you start but he cuts you off. "This wasn’t about me. It was about you Doll. We’ve got time for more tomorrow" his hand strokes over the back of your head as he plants a soft kiss on your lips, making you taste yourself on his tongue. You really do not deserve this man.

[ystrike1]

Dear, Teddy Bear - By Pisangu (5/10)

This author is trying to be smart, but it's not working. Everything is too obvious. The mystery is spoiled in chapter one. The guy the yandere is obsessed with is a boring, popular, cute guy. Taboo does not equal flavor, and the art is basic.

Minhyung is a crazy yandere kid.

He was also extremely lucky.

Two loving gay parents adopted him, and this little crapshoot decides to ruin both of their lives. It's so clear that both of his dads are nice, but he immediately falls into obsessive love with the cute and boring dad. He kills kind and handsome dad ONLY because of that. ONLY for selfish reasons.

I really want to feel bad for Lee Jae. I do. He really loved his husband. He really wanted to treat his adopted kid right. He's a good dude. He's cute and popular. He kinda lived a selfish life. His husband spoiled him a little.

Minhyung pushes the competition off a cliff, and Lee Jae becomes even more spoiled. He starts relying on his son????? I know he's traumatized. I know he was sheltered, but he is a grown man and Minhyung is a child. Lee Jae is stupidly naive and trusting. Minhyung is clearly a weirdo who is too obsessed with staying at home with his remaining living dad.

Minhyung grows up handsome and Lee Jae doesn't encourage him to become independent. It's really, really screwed up actually. Lee Jae calls Minhyung constantly because he's afraid his adopted son will randomly die too, and he'll be alone.

Minhyung encourages this fear but AGAIN Lee Jae is an adult. Minhyung is being really obvious and unhealthy. An adult with a brain would have set boundaries.

Minhyung starts treating Lee Jae like a child. Like the child. Like he's the parent and his adopted dad is the spoiled and dependent kid. It's icky. It's ew. Minhyung is a clear yandere, but it's sad instead of hot.

Minhyung has a Lee Jae shrine in his room. IN THE FAMILY HOUSE. Lee Jae is so dumb and naive its just annoying I'm sorry. Sorry your husband died but you suck and you exist to be a cute victim.

Seriously the shrine being in the shared house right out in the open makes Lee Jae look brain dead. Like??? You never go in your son's room ever??????

Hyeon ho is a hotel director. He wants to date Lee Jae because he's....cute...no other reason. Lee Jae is supposed to be an older man with an adult child and trauma. He still has nightmares about his dead husband. Honestly, if Lee Jae LOOKED like an older man this story would be so much better. But no he's a super skinny uwu boy model with perfect skin. If he had wrinkles and idk some brain cells the yandere aspect would be much scarier, but no. Lee Jae is so hot and popular that all of the obsessed guys don't love HIM. Just his cuteness and innocence and overall perfect appearance. Which is really jarring because he's supposed to be in his thirties.

Also.

He was mad.

Minhyung apparently tried to flirt before. Soon after daddy competition died. Lee Jae lost it, and apparently he slapped Minhyung. Tried to beat him for DARING to say that he could easily replace the love that was lost.

That's interesting!!!

But its a flashback!!!!

And in the current story Lee Jae literally acts like a clueless high schooler that can't function if Minhyung isn't coddling him.

I know Minhyung planned that. Encouraged that, but that one flashback is the only interesting part of their relationship. Minhyung boldly tried to step in, and Lee Jae had the balls to turn against him. Now he doesn't. Now he's just an uwu old man that looks like a high schooler participating in emotional ince**.

[yellow-py]

hello! you've probably been asked these before, but i'm here to ask how long it typically takes for you to make animatics, if you have any tips, preferred methods, and what you use? i saw your funger animatic and it looks absolutely gorgeous! i love all the detail that's jam-packed into the art and story telling, so i'm curious about your animatic process.

sorry if this is a lot! no need to answer if you don't want to. i love your stuff and i wish you well!

Hi! I don't mind answering some questions!

First things first, I'm not a professional storyboards artist. I've done a few things for some youtube channels. I wouldn't call myself an expert. This is to say that my method of doing things might not the best for people who actually work in the industry. 

Most of the time I work in Storyboard pro 7. But honestly, any editing software works as long as it can handle pictures and audio. For the disco elysium animatic I only used  clip studio paint and some random editing program called Camtasia. It worked alright but it takes a bit longer to finish stuff since storyboard pro is more streamlined. My go-to method right not is to draw the backgrounds in clip studio and the characters and editing in storyboard pro. That way, I get the best of both worlds. 

The funger animatic took about 2 and a half weeks to make. It usually takes longer, but the song wasn't that long so that saved me a lot of time. But as another example, my disco elysium animatic took +3 months. So it really depends. I did work longer on each frame for that one tho, so idk. On average, it takes me about 2 months. But that number keeps going up since my expectations of myself keep rising. 

Anyhow! I'll be bringing up my fear and hunger animatic as an example of my process. 

My animatics usually start out having the ugliest thumbnails known to man. It does let me experiment with framing and timing, which is absolutely crucial. I do not recommend that people start refining frames without having planned out things beforehand.

After that, I just save every thumbnail and import it to storyboard pro. I just scale it up to the current canvas size. Then I just line up every frame with the audio. It is a little bit tedious but you gotta do what you gotta do. 

After that, I begin to draw the backgrounds in clip studio. I do the same thing as in storyboard pro and just size the thumbnail up. And then I just sketch over that! Technically, I could have drawn the backgrounds in storyboard pro. But their brushes are pretty uggo so I prefer to not do that :)

As dumb as it might sound, it kind of stresses me out when my storyboards aren't "pretty". Which is pretty stupid since storyboards are literally made only to be a guide for what an animation should be. so in actuality, it's alright if they're kinda crusty. But since I never intend to animate my animatics I find it nice to spend more time on each frame. Which is sorta stupid because I'm shooting myself in the foot by working so long on every frame...

Either way, after that, I import the new backgrounds into storyboard pro and begin to draw the characters. Technically I could draw them in clip studio as well. But its faster to draw them in story board pro and it also allows me to do some semi-animated things and work faster. So, after a lot of experimenting, clip studio backgrounds and storyboard pro characters is the way to go for me! 

And just to note. This animatic might have only taken about 2 and a half weeks. Which sounds pretty good. But when it comes to animatics I can become a real workaholic if im inspired enough. So every day after school I would sit non stop working on this from the second I got home to when it was time to sleep. As well as every second of the weekend after I was done with my chores. So that is to say I work pretty fast and persistently, which i know is not healthy or realistic. So take my timing with a grain of salt. 

But that's kinda my process. I just draw backgrounds and draw characters until the thing is done. 

If I had to give any advice, I would say it's important to have fun when making animatics as a hobby. When I make an animatic, it's because I personally want to see that animatic, and if other people like it, that is a plus! If you're excited about an idea, it'll be a lot easier to add fun details and soul into it. 

But yeah that's it. I can't really come up with anything else to say. I hope I gave some good insight!

[rheakira]

Was made aware that I should probably have a pinned post.

Hello, I'm RheaKira. I draw stuff. Sometimes I write stuff. A run a cute art blog on the side entirely focused on Clover (Undertale Yellow) and a Kindness Soul OC named Robin if you like to see that kind of thing.

Currently drawing a lot of Undertale/Deltarune and specifically Undertale Yellow. I'm a big fan of the franchise and I like to doodle my own interpretations of the cast and the story.

I'm here for a fun and simple time really. If we don't agree on headcanons/interpretations, that's totally chill. Don't harass me about it and we're cool. ✨

Have a good day and like idk don't die or anything cuz that'd suck. Enjoy your stay. ✌️

EDIT (2/6/24): I don't normally take art or writing requests, since I'm not always available to create and my motivation tanks at random times. My ask box is always open for entertainment and genuine questions though. 💕

EDIT (2/18/24): Please do not repost my art onto other sites or use my art for videos without asking me first. I will most likely not turn you down, but I need to know beforehand if you plan to use my art and what for. More info here.

[livsbrutalitys-blog]

Unfinished business

pt.1 | pt.3

pairing(s): Rhea x f!reader, wwe x f!reader, not really but aew x f!reader

a/n: this isn’t as Rhea based but it’s still important as it is building up relationships and the character

use of y/n

tw: eventual smut, cussing, physical violence (y’all this is wrestling what’d you expect), idk if there’s more lmk if you see any

After you put down your phone you took a quick nap to pass the time on the long flight. You woke up just as the plane was landing and once it was time for you to get off you grabbed your things and made your way through the airport after grabbing you luggage. You walked outside and got in your rental car and finally made your way to the pc.

Once you arrived at the pc and made it through the door you were greeted by Stephanie. "Hi y/n, it's so good to see you again. I had a look at your match from last night and it was really impressive." she said with a smile on her face. "Thank you so much Stephanie, that means a lot to me especially coming from you", you said reciprocating the smile she'd given to you.

"Ok so your probably wondering why I wanted you down here so soon" she said "yes and I'm ready for whatever you have planned for me" you said becoming a little antsy. She chuckled a bit before speaking again, "That's good to know, but I wanted you here so you could meet some of our wrestlers and meet your partner in your debut" she said waiting for a response. You were bit surprised not disappointed but definitely surprised because you thought you were debuting alone.

"Partner?" is all you said wanting a further explanation. "Right I didn't tell you yet, you are gonna be entering into a feud with 2 other people one of those being the person you are pairing with at Wrestlemania, but for the night you guys will be friends we'll build the feud after" she said and you could see the passion for this story in her eyes. It wasn't a bad idea at all but it wasn't what you expected for your debut so you took a chance on it and put your trust in Stephanie's years in the business.

You followed Stephanie to room that was meant for working out and when you entered you saw about 5 people in there and she kept walking toward the blonde on the far side of the room. She was currently sitting on a machine getting ready to do another set when we approached her. Stephanie tapped the woman's shoulder and she turned her head to look at who had just tapped her.

When she looked at you you were slightly stunned to see who it was it was a girl you had briefly met at a training camp a few years ago.

"Hi Liv sorry to interrupt your workout but I wanted you to meet your wrestlemania partner" Stephanie said gesturing her hand towards you. "Hi my names y/n, it's so nice to meet you" you stuck your hand out for a hand shake. "Hey I'm Liv" she shook your hand firmly she looked at you inquisitively as she spoke again "have... we met before?" she said "You know what I think so were you at (random training camp lol) a couple years ago?" you said "Oh my gosh! yes that's were I know you from, how have you been its been so long" she said standing up and looking genuinely interested in what you were about to say.

"Everything's been good, do you remember when I told you about a deal I got offered with that indie promotion?" you said "Yes! How'd that go? I saw some of your stuff you were doing at AEW and damn girl you are so good at this whole thing I could probably use a few lessons" she chuckled "Yeah so that indie promotion ended up being AEW and well you can see how well that went" you laughed. "Well I can see you two have some good history, that'll be useful later on but I thought maybe you two could do some team bonding" she said "Oh that sounds like a great idea!" Liv exclaimed "Yeah I'm in what were you thinking?" you asked Stephanie. "Maybe you guys could just go out and grab dinner or do a training session" she said just kind of throwing out some idea's. "y/n, we can do a session together I'm just getting started you are more than welcome to join if you'd like" she asked and you thought about it because you weren't exactly prepared to do any wrestling but eventually you agreed and went and changed.

You walk to one of the rings and found Liv, she was running the ropes and had just finished stretching. So, you decided to stretch outside of the ring and once you were done you slid under the bottom rope and walked over to Liv. "so what'd you want to start with?" you asked her while doing some little arm stretches. "you wanna do some sparring? Just a warning I'm a little rusty I've been out with an injury for a while" she asked and you decided to ask about said injury "Yeah we can, what happened if you don mind me asking?" "Rhea happened" is all she said when answering your question. "Sorry I haven't watched a lot of WWE in a while since y'know I've been kinda working for the rival" you said getting kinda nervous about how she would feel about you not being 'in the loop'. She understood your reasoning and explained further what she meant.

After she told you about what Rhea did to her you felt a sense of anger and protectiveness over Liv. You guys spent a couple hours at the PC and after you finished up you headed to go grab something to eat. While you were eating you two talked about how excited you were about your debut and her return. As you talked about it you realized that this was gonna be a big deal and the people were definitely gonna be talking, Liv realized it too.

As the next couple months passed you and Liv grew a strong friendship and were closer to her than you've been with anyone in a long time. You were 2 days away from your debut on the grandest stage of them all, Wrestlemania. You heard a knock on your new apartments door and ran to answer it cause you knew exactly who it was. You swung the door open and Liv walked in she was just as excited as you because today you guys were gonna be finishing up your outfits.

"Girl I can't believe in like two days we are gonna be making history, this is so crazy!" she said with enthusiasm, you chuckled at her actions. It's not that you weren't excited you were just nervous about seeing her for the first time in years. How would she react? How would you react? What if she hates me? What if the fans hate me? Was all you could think and it was clouding you feelings of excitement. You didn't bother to tell Liv much about how you knew Rhea, all she knew was you and her trained together but what she didn't know is that you two had a sort of... situationship for 4 years and 'broke up' if you'd even call it that because the way things ended was with her abandoning you and then ignoring you after she left that day back at the gym.

You wish you and Rhea could've had real relationship instead of a secret multi year fling. But, she wasn't ready to tell everyone that she was into girls and that she was indeed secretly in love with one. You understood and were content with what you had going on but eventually you wanted more. You wanted to go on dates, kiss her in front of other people or even just hold her hand. Anytime you asked for more its like she would shut down and try to change the subject or try to initiate sex and it would work for a bit but you grew tired of the same old same old. It started to feel like she was ashamed of you or just being with you in that way.

Rhea had said she loved you and you told her you loved her but of course nobody knew how you guys felt about one another and it was beyond frustrating and tiring trying to hide how you felt about her. She was another reason you stopped watching WWE, even though you loved it and it was your dream to make it there you couldn't bear watching her every week and knowing how you felt.

While you were lost in thought about what its going to be like seeing her after all these years Liv saying your name snapped you back to reality. "Hey y/n were did you say those rhinestones were, I wanna practice my makeup for the show" she asked while poking her head out of your bathroom. "Oh they should be in my makeup bag under the sink are they not in there?" you said as you walked away from your bed that had your semi finished out fit on it. "No I didn't see them maybe there in there and i just missed them" she said as she walked out of the bathroom to give you room to look under the sink. "Ah there they are, they fell out sorry about that" you said as you chuckled slightly "Oh no problem thank you for letting me use them" she said grabbing them from your hand and you guys switched spots. "You're welcome I have more somewhere if you want them I'm out of my rhinestone phase" you said as you walked back to your connected bedroom. She gasped "You wore these, oh my god girl I just know you looked so hot with them" she laughed "Yeah I did they just don't fit the vibe anymore y'know" you said while also laughing at her reaction.

You guys finished with your looks and decided to try on your outfit's to see if anything else needed to be fixed or added. Liv tried hers on first and she looked stunning (i hate doing these but i need to so you understand my idea here are the outfits )

liv’s

You gasped at her whole look it was amazing. “Liv holy shit I think the whole arena is going to collapse when they see you” you said while getting off your bed to get a better look at it and she laughed because she didn’t expect your reaction to be that positive. “Thank you boo, ok ok now go try yours on I wanna see” she said pushing you towards the bathroom to change. Once you were done you walked out and did a little twirl to give her a good look. She paused and her jaw dropped at how good you looked.

your outfit

“BITCH OH MY GOD IM DONE YOU ARE GONNA STOP THE WHOLE SHOW” she yelled. “Thank you bae I was worried it was gonna be to much” you laughed not knowing how to properly accept the praise you’re were receiving. “Girl have you seen how Seth and Becky dress to their standards this isn’t enough” you and her shared a laugh knowing how outlandish those two like to dress from seeing some of their pics on instagram.

“Hey did you wanna spend the night so that we can just get up and go to the airport tomorrow?” you asked and this wasn’t an unusual question because you guys had sleepovers often. “Yeah that’ll make it a lot easier since we have to get up and go so early” she said “ok it’s getting kinda late did you want to change and watch a movie, maybe order some dinner?” you asked “yes but can i pick the place this time because you picked last time” she said and you giggled a little bit “yes you can as long as it’s not gross like that one place you picked” you said playfully grimacing at the memory of the awful food and she laughed and also made a disgusted face at the same memory.

After you got done watching the movie and eating dinner you guys were to tired to move so you just slept on the couch and you made sure you had an alarm set for the morning at 4 am since you had to be at the airport at 5 am.

You woke up at exactly 4 in the morning and Liv took a little more convincing to get her up but she eventually got up and walked to your bathroom but before that she had asked if she could borrow a pair of your sweatpants and of course you let her. Once you guys were changed you walked to your car and drove to the airport.

The airport was your least favorite place but seemed to be the place you spent the most time. You got through all the checkpoints with no problem and soon boarded your plane. You and Liv sat next to each other, She eventually dozed off and took a nap leaning on your shoulder and you soon followed resting your head on hers. She woke up about 5 minutes before you were due to land and her movement had woken you right up. “Are we about to land” you asked while yawning “uh yeah it looks like it” she said groggily. You checked the time and it was about 9 am since the flight was a short one,about 2 hrs, you were grateful.

You guys got off the plane and made your way to your shared rental car after grabbing the rest of your luggage. You made your way to the hotel and checked in, it was 1 day till you made your debut and her return. 1 day till you came face to face with her again. The pit your stomach grew but you also had butterflies at the thought of seeing her. You and Liv had been staying in a separate hotel due to nobody knowing about you guys coming.

There was a knock at the door and you glanced at Liv "Are you expecting anyone?" you asked curiously "No are you?" she asked in the same tone and you shook your head. Liv stood up quickly to answer it. Her demeanor changed almost instantly as she greeted the stranger with a hug and a quick hi. You heard a familiar voice as she asked if she could come in and Liv moved aside gesturing her in. You stood up to greet the person and you were settled by the stranger being Stephanie. “Hey y/n how was your flight” she asked as she entered the room. “Oh it was good, a short one which i don’t mind at all” you chuckled and she did the same. “Oh I bet the short ones are the best but what brings me here is I wanted to go over some of the finishing touches for tomorrow” she said while glancing between you and Liv. “Oh ok yeah did you want to do it here or we could maybe go grab a coffee while we talk” Liv suggested. “You know what that sounds great let’s explore the city a bit and get out of this room” Stephanie said happy to get of the hotel. You guys walked around finding a good coffee spot and you all finally chose one.

You all sat down with you drinks and stared talking more business. “So have you girls decided what your wearing tomorrow?” Stephanie asked “Yes we finished them up last night at made sure everything was good” You said glancing at Liv who was nodding in agreement as you spoke. “Great do you have a picture?” she said and you went to look through you photos and couldn’t find one. “I don’t think I took on Liv did you” you looked over at her “uhhhhh… yes I do” she said as she turned her phone towards Stephanie. Stephanie grabbed the phone and got a closer look. “Oh these are amazing I think you’ll win best dressed” she said as she chuckled and handed Liv her phone back. “I think that’s what we were going for” Liv said grabbing her phone back and laughing.

You guys talked for a bit and once you were done you made you way back to the hotel once you got your respective floors you said your goodbyes and heading back to your rooms. You immediately face plant onto one of the beds groaning because you were so tired and also because the amount of business talk you just did drained you completely. Liv slowly made her way to the other bed and you both laid there for a few minutes before you both started laughing. For no reason at all you were both laughing so hard, you turned you head to face her and laughed even harder “what’s so funny” you said between laughs “I don’t know felt right I guess”.

You both calmed down and we’re just having sleepy small talk and making jokes. “God what time is it?” you asked slightly jarring your self to wake up. “Oh shit I have no idea” Liv said as she chuckled and immediately searching for her phone. You found yours first and read the time 6:30 pm you had been laying there for about 2 hours now after your 4 hour long conversation with Stephanie. You both decided to eat something and head to bed early.

You both are laying there watching a random movie on the TV and Liv starts some small talk. “Are you excited for tomorrow?” she asked but she already knew your answer. “Yes god I can’t believe it’s already here it feels like yesterday I was responding to an email on the way to an AEW event” you said recalling the start of this journey. “I know right I mean it really does feel like this whole thing has flown by in no time” she said agreeing with what you’d just said. “I have to ask you something” Liv admitted and you sat up slightly to prepare for what seemed like a hard hitting question. “ok” you said hesitantly “I don’t want to overstep and you totally don’t have to answer if you don’t want to and I won’t be mad if you don’t want to but i’ve been thinking about a lot..” she rambled on “Liv what is it your scaring me” you said trying to get it out of her. “Ok sorry, sorry, so, whenever Rhea is mentioned you get kind of- i dunno- weird- i guess- did something happen with you guys?” she asked quietly not wanting to upset you. “Oh I mean no- not really- I just y’know- had a lit- little crush on her-that’s it” you said while debating if you should come clean or not. “Really because it seems like it was more?” she said not believing you one bit. You sighed as the debate in your head was settled, “ok well that’s not the whole thing- we had a kind of- well i mean not kind of but had- a sorta relationship for a couple years” you said trying to not give to many details.

“What?” is all Liv said trying to understand what you just said. “Yeah I mean it wasn’t that serious but the end really hurt not gonna lie” you said with your head turned down. “wha-why didn’t you say anything?” she asked sounding a little hurt. “i- i don’t know it just didn’t seem important” you said trying to justify it in your head and to her. “Not important? Are you kidding me it’s so important because now we’ve gotta go out there you’ve gotta be your revenge” she said surprisingly more upset at the fact that you didn’t tell her sooner because she could’ve planned your revenge tactic sooner. You laughed surprised she wasn’t mad at you.

“Your not mad?” you said “Girl no that’s your business and i’ll never press you to talk about something you don’t wanna talk about” she said with a matter of fact tone. “Ok but how do you know shes not the one who needs to get revenge?” you asked as she turned towards you quickly. “Did she make you cry?” you nodded your head “ Did she do it over text?” you shook your head “How’d she do it?” she asked now interested “She got on a plane with no word and left” you said grimacing at the memory. “Bitch i’m done you need revenge ‘cause that is seriously messed up” she said looking you dead in the eyes. “I know like who would do that?” you asked in disbelief.

You two carried on talking about your relationship with Rhea for another hour or so. “And please Liv you cannot tell anyone I don’t want this getting out for mine and her sake please” you begged “For you I will I love you girl and I mean that I’ve got you no matter what” she said reminding you that she always had your back.

You two soon fell fast asleep. You dreamed about Rhea which hadn’t happened in a very long time. You suddenly jumped and it woke you up. You stirred and got up to grab a water. You chugged it and crawled back in bed. After a while you couldn’t sleep you grabbed your phone to check the time and scroll through social media real quick. You decided to do something you never thought you’d do. You unblocked her account and viewed it.

You saw a totally different person than you’d last seen. She was more muscular and her hair was jet black and she was fully tatted. It was now not a doubt in your mind that the person you saw at the arena a while back was in fact her. You watched some of the reels on her page and looked at some of her pictures. You felt different towards her you didn’t feel the love you’d once had i mean it was still there just a little further down than they were before you now felt more rage and anger towards her because now you realized you weren’t the problem. You didn’t deserve what she did to you. You needed your revenge.

[kkami-writes]

hi guys! hope you guys had a wonderful holiday season! this is just a little update about current projects and future projects.

In good news: Waiting for us will be returning next week! I'm not 100% sure when i'm gonna post but probably on wednesday. I'm still estimating about 65 chapters in total so we're less than 20 chapters till the end :O. Thank you guys again for being on this journey with me. It's still so amazing that something I decided to write on a complete whim and in the middle of the night blew up SO much. but i'm so thankful. in kind of bad news: both devil's advocate and full house will be going on hiatus. while I still have plot ideas for both of them, I still haven't gotten back into the swing of writing yet and I just think it's better to place them on hiatus. I do have half of chapter five written that I could probably finish and post...but I deadass feel like if I put it on hiatus after chapter five you guys will kill me TTTTTT LMAO. in terms of new projects! i'm planning on announcing my smau series that are going to be made up of smaller smau's for each boy soon! sometime around the end of waiting for us. As well as announcing my next large haul smau.

In terms of written work, I don't know if you guys remember me blabbing on about a potential ot8 x fangirl!reader but I do still want to write that and it's kinda the only thing that's piquing my interest rn. but I just hate that I always start projects and never finish them :/ writing larger stories like that are just hard you know? anyway idk. again, i'm gonna focus on my smaus for now and we'll see where things go! I'm also gonna be updating and posting the rest of my fic recs as well as making a complied list of all the ot8 fics i've found that are on ao3 so it's in one place. Anyway. Happy new years again guys! Here's to an amazing 2024.