#idk if any of this makes sense but I can't proofread this again or I'll scream

[lycheeloving]

a non-platonic yandere!Bruce thought this time, with some multiverse stuff, because that's all I could think about today.

I imagine this is at a point where you've been with him for some time & have mostly gotten used to your situation (having been kidnapped and forced into a relationship with a billionaire who happens to be Batman)

a small allusion to nsfw stuff, minors dni

You're bored, sitting in the bedroom you share with Bruce (who's currently patrolling, so you can't even annoy him for entertainment), so you decide that you at least want a change of scenery, and what better place for that than the batcave? So you take a book, a drink and a blanket with you as you venture down into the cave.

Bruce doesn't like it when you're down there, especially not while he's out, but it doesn't concern him enough to install anything that would keep you from going down there. If you're lucky, this will piss him off just enough to make the inevitable post-patrol sex with him more interesting tonight, so a win-win situation, really! You sit down in his comfy chair in front of his bat-computer, snuggle into your blanket so you don't freeze to death and start reading.

After some time you stand up to stretch and notice Bruce in the reflection on the computer. Weird, you didn't hear the batmobile returning! Well, you must have just been really immersed in the book.

"Bruce? You're back early, I thought you said you'd take longer today because of some Arkham emergency?"

No response.

"Ok, look, I know you don't like it when I'm down here, but I was getting sick of the manor!"

Still no response.

You turn around to look at him more closely, his expression might look like his usual stony facade, but you've spent enough time with him by now to be able to read him a bit and you're pretty sure he looks... confused?

"Hello? Are you ok? Did you hit your head? Did you drive with a head injury?? Wait, no, of course not, the batmobile can drive home all by itself-"

As you say that, you look at where the batmobile should be. should be, because it's not there. You look back at Bruce. Did his batsuit always look like that? You could swear that the ears are usually a bit smaller, and the color is wrong. Huh. You take a step back. "You're.. not Bruce, are you?"

He finally opens up his mouth to explain that he's from a parallel universe, that he and the Bruce from your universe have been helping each other with cases for a while now, he just came here to see if your Bruce was available, but if he's not here right now he's going to leave again. He gestures to a portal in the wall that you missed because from your angle it just looks like the wall of the cave, but when you take a step forward you can see into what looks like the batcave you're in right now but slightly to the left. A bit uncanny.

"You looked confused earlier, did Bruce not tell you about me? Or did you just not expect to see me down here?"

"...I was not aware that he is in a relationship."

"I mean, yeah, I guess if I was him I wouldn't go around telling people I kidnapped someone and keep them locked in my mansion, either. Even if they looked exactly like me, I mean, you never know if they think exactly like you as well. Um. Anyways, it was nice to meet you?" You wave awkwardly while he looks shocked (in his stoic way).

"...Why didn't you try to escape through the portal, then, if you're kept here against your will?"

"Oh, um, my bracelet is designed to shock me as soon as I leave. Like, really painful electric shocks. I'm not trying that again." More shock and guilt on other-Bruce's face.

"I'm sure I could disable it. Come with me."

"...And then what? Bruce will come after me. He'll attack you and be really, really mad at me for running away. Really mad. He said he'd break my legs if I ever tried to run again, I'm not risking that. And he'll keep me chained up in the bedroom for months." You shudder. "I like my walking around the house privileges, thank you very much."

You feel uncomfortable when he doesn't react and instead keeps staring at you. "I think you should leave. Now. ...Please."

He takes a step towards you. "I can keep you safe. I wouldn't feel right, knowing I left you here. Come with me."

You take a step back. "Look, thank you for offering, but I don't think this will end well for either of us. I'm gonna go now."

You turn to leave, but he's faster than you. He grabs your wrist, stopping you from getting away. You squirm in his hold while he inspects your bracelet. He then pulls something out of his utility belt with which he's able to remove the bracelet without it shocking you, throws you over his shoulder and carries you through the portal, not at all bothered by your kicking and scratching. He puts you down and closes the portal behind him. It all happened faster than you could wrap your head around.

"...I think it would be best if you stayed in the manor until I figure out how to resolve this.", he says, an unnerving glint in his eyes.

Did you just get kidnapped by a second Batman? Will he really let you go? You doubt that, somehow. You think you would have preferred to stay with your Batman, at least with him you knew what to expect...

[7ndipity]

Latibule

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: After someone close to you breaks your trust yet again, you go to your safe place, Joon.

Warnings: angst, swearing, implied toxic relationship/home life, not proofread

A/N: I wrote this like a month ago when I needed to vent, but I thought some of y'all might appreciate it, so I'll share it here. I almost feel like it could be the start of a series, but idk, lmk what you think?(Also, I tried to leave the 'they' in question vague, so it could be an ex, family, friend or whatever you prefer.)

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Joon being wide awake at three in the morning was far from out of the ordinary, he'd often said that he did some of his best work at night, having passed more than his fair share of sleepless nights writing.

You however, were usually long dead to the world at this hour, which is why when his phone screen lit up with your name, he was quick to answer.

"Hey y/n."

"Joon?" The shake in your voice instantly put made him sit up straighter, concerned.

"What happened?"

"Can... can I come over?" You asked.

"Of course." He said, without hesitation. "Are you okay? Do you need me to get you?"

"I'm fine." You said, but he knew that wasn't fully true, it was clear you'd been crying. "I just don't want to stay here tonight."

"Come over. Do you want me to set up our usuals?" He asked.

"Sure." You responded.

Over the course of your friendship, you two had developed a near ritual of whenever one of you was upset, you'd go over to the other's place to talk, usually over some sort of drinks.

You couldn't count how many nights you'd spent camped out on each other's sofas, or sometimes beds, ranting about everything from shitty ex's, family or work problems, or even just that one neighbor who never waved back at you. It didn't necessarily fix any of the issues, but it was comforting nonetheless to have someone who would lend a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on.

He could tell whatever happened must have been bad. Normally, when you called, you would already be giving him the rundown of whatever had happened, so your quietness on the other end of the phone was more than a little worrying.

You showed up not long after, your sweats and oversized hoodie making you seem even smaller to him than normally.

Skipping over any greeting, he immediately pulled you into a tight, protective hug.

"What happened?" He asked again, but you just shook your head.

"Not yet." You mumbled, trying to soak in his soothing warmth. It was remarkable how easily the simple gesture from him never failed to give you such a sense of comfort and safety.

Once you finally separated, he quickly got you situated on the couch with your drinks, waiting patiently for you to begin.

"They lied, again." You said, staring at the floor as you spoke. "I thought things were getting better. I thought we were getting past it, but they fucking lied, right to my face."

The grip on his glass tightened as he listened to you explain, his long simmering anger and frustration at your situation rising to a boil.

"Fuck 'em." He said suddenly.

You looked up at him in surprise.

"I mean it," he said seriously. "You've put up with this shit for long enough. If they can't even have the basic decency to be honest with you, after everything that's happened, then fuck 'em. You deserve so much better than that, than them."

Caught off guard by the intensity of his words, you were hit with a sudden wave of emotion, trying desperately to blink back tears but failing.

"Shit, I'm sorry! Please don't cry." He apologized, frantically scrambling over to pull you into another hug.

"Why are you always so nice to me?" You sniffled.

He looked at you for a moment, unsure of how to answer other than the simple truth. "Because it's what you deserve."

You sat together for a while until your tears ceased and he noticed you drooping on his shoulder and suggested going to bed, waiting till he felt your breaths even out next to him before drifting off as well.

You woke in the morning to the loud clang of cookware and quiet curses.

"Joon?" You called groggily, finding him milling about the kitchen, looking slightly frazzled.

"Sorry babe, did I wake you?" He asked.

"Nah, it's fine." You said, ignoring the term of endearment he reserved for the nights you you stayed over. "What are you doing?"

"Making breakfast, or at least trying to." He said, stirring a pan of eggs uncertainly.

"Here, let me." You offered, taking over as he watched.

"So, um, I was thinking..." He said, trailing off uncertainly.

"Hmm?" You hummed.

"What if you just... stayed here?" He asked nervously. "At least for a little bit?"

You looked up in surprise. "Here?"

"Yeah, I mean, if you want to." He said, fiddling with his sleeves awkwardly. "It's nice having you around, and you're here all the time anyway and I...

"I don't want you to go back there." He said quietly. "They're not good for you, so I thought maybe you could just... be here?"

Slowly, you nodded. "I think I'd like that."

He smiled, relieved. "Good."

[eluxcastar]

I don't know if you still receive requests. But if it is possible, I would like one with Capitano and a female reader. Where the reader is something of a red riding hood in appearance, but she is a beast hunter from the north. And she finds a wounded nether creature and she takes care of it. And it turns out that it was Capitano, so that Capitano can look for him later.

Capitano with a beast hunter

── ୨୧：il capitano x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: it seemed to start when a child approached you telling you of a 'doggy' that needed help. it wasn't a doggy, and it actually needed a sword through the skull to put it out of its misery, but the poor thing's whimpers had you taking it home against all your judgements.

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader, reader could be read as rude Idk, they're meant to just be blunt, reader doesn't have a vision (why was this relevant), possible ooc (he says exactly one line in canon), not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3123

so I turned my back and suddenly had three thousand words of domesticating nether creatures 101 a class with Capitano. I accidentally made the little creature sound cute help 💀 I actually really liked this idea but then I had this whole confusion born of my own stupidity where I couldn't figure out if Capitano was the creature or if he owned it and I put it off thinking I would miraculously read it and know the answer (I didn't) so I ended up asking someone else and we agreed on he owns it, I then got busy and didn't come back to this for like almost a month atp but now you can have food anon

"Look Miss, that's the doggy. It's hurt, isn't it?" the child whose hand you held must've been...perhaps not the brightest star in the sky, to put it delicately. you're not really sure at a glance how he can look at a beast from the depths of the abyss and call it a doggy. then again, maybe the idea of such creatures existing is foreign to the mind of a child.

he had enough sense to chase down the first passer-by and lead them to this supposed doggy, though you're not sure what he expects them to do. it was purely by chance that you were the one the child found, but odds said he would sooner find someone with no idea what it even was. them, or the fatuus scattered around the place as they had been for days now. for whatever reason, the Fatui are lingering, it probably ran away from one of them to hide in the emptier farmlands where it could recover. one of them would've killed it in front of his eyes without a second thought.

"It's been injured by something, and it's exhausted, probably wants something to drink about now." observing its trembling leaves you with only the conclusion you should probably put it out of its misery, just maybe not in front of the child.

"Can you make it better?" he asks, a clear pity in his eyes. you know you can't tell him you're going to take it out into the woods near the village and kill it.

you let go of the child's hand and inch closer to the creature, offering a hand to it - coincidentally your familiarity with these things gives you ample sense of how to approach them - and it weakly prods at your fingers, unusually passive for something which usually is vicious by nature. "Sure." you tell him, scooping the creature up in your hands finding it covered in dust and scraps of the crops it probably picked up running through the fields, "I'll take him back home with me."

you can just tell him it ran away once it was all better or something.

you suppose that's as good a reason as any to end up lugging a beast around as you pass through the woods to go back home, delicacy is an important aspect of your work. still you can't help but notice the way it nestles itself into your body, tucked up in your arms folded into itself. it's small, probably one of the babies. that would explain why it's so peaceful. even while you pick at some of the particularly tangled bits of wheat and accidentally tug at the fur, it doesn't bite.

you'll have to give it a proper bath in a bucket of soapy water when you get home, but the damage is less than you thought. now that it's out of the way of Humans it seems less injured than it did when it was piled in a heap on the outskirts of the village, barely injured at all in fact.

"I bet you were being dramatic to lure Humans in, weren't you, little one? Who taught you to do that?" you stroke a hand through its fur as you speak to it, almost like a common house pet. you don't expect a response, though it trills at you quite pleased with itself.

when you think about it, you're the real sucker. you picked it up anyway and basically did exactly the thing it wanted you to.

"I'm under no obligation to kill you for once, so maybe you can stay for a while. Company wouldn't hurt."

so you let it stay, and someone must've been treating him well as he's oddly affectionate for something that is meant to be fixated on hurting you. his little claws are blunt at the point and neatly trimmed, unable to hurt even though he seems to know how to be gentle with them as he sometimes beats his little paw-like nubs against your legs for attention, always soft enough so that it doesn't hurt but only grabs your focus.

he hovers while you make food for yourself, perhaps expecting a share of the scraps, spoiled little thing. he always topples over himself trying to follow you to grab at your bowl, though it's hard to deny you enjoy having company in a place so far removed from people. even if your 'company' is a fluffy little abyssal creature, it's some kind of company. things are less…quiet, livelier.

you just can't decide if it's like a child or a dog. it's enough like a dog in terms of appearance to be mistaken for one (apparently), but it's mischievous like a child and feels like one when it watches you. it's too small for a child, and children don't generally have fur last time you checked, but children are messy sometimes and make incoherent noises the way it makes a sound something like a 'woo' for any and all communications.

it feels just a tad like the little guy is taking over, claiming your blankets and hobbling around 'hidden' in them like you can't see the blanket draped over his head moving around of its own. he likes burrowing himself in piles of them, and he keeps eating your food much to your annoyance. he likes berries, so maybe you can take him to get the normally very poisonous ones since he shouldn't be affected in the same way you are.

little patters of footsteps causes you to look up as it runs over, a little woo noise it makes little babbling accompanying it as something knocks into your side. he's all tangled up in your basket - the second thing he likes - and almost looks as if he is carrying it. he wants in the basket, but can't get the lid up to squeeze inside, and now he's trapped in the handle tummy flat against the still closed lid.

"Ah, were you trying to hide again?" you lean down and lift the basket, bringing him up with it. his feet flail about as he thrashes to get out, "Ay, ay, settle." you tell him, and he calms to only a desperate wiggle. then you give the basket a harsh shake and he slips, only needing one more to thump to the floor and scramble to get up, claws scratching against the floorboards.

he woos at you again, claws scratching lightly at your leg, little nubs beating you gently like he pats you with a little too much aggression. it's affection…at least you think, admittedly you're not the most well-versed in the way they communicate with Humans.

"You want in the basket, don't you?" you ask, opening the lid to demonstrate, pointing to the inside which holds only a spare cloth to pad the bottom of the basket. "In." you try to emphasise in case he doesn't understand, though he emits another of his happy little trills and hops about his feet.

the second you lower the open basket to his level, he runs up to squirm his way in, disappearing into the comfort of his little hiding place with only the faint purr-like noise that comes from within the basket.

since he's in there, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to take him out now?

it's a nice day, sun high in the sky filtered by the trees, easy on the eyes. the wind feels nice, the temperature is just right, today is the kind of day you wish stuck around when jobs appear but it can never just be that easy. always they come in the pouring rain, or the blazing sun, anything to ruin your day, but just maybe you like the idea of having nothing to do on the good days. you can enjoy them more - not that you don't enjoy your work - nothing beats days off. then again, if not for the fuzzy little ball of energy shaking your basket you probably would be bored out of your mind right now, so maybe you really would prefer the clear skies to come on your work days.

if you can recall, a couple of berry bushes are scattered not that far from your little cottage, somewhere to the east just off the path. the little guy seems restless today-- what should you call him actually? he doesn't have a name yet. should you even name him? if you do that, you'll only get attached to him. whatever his name is, he seems restless, rustling your basket every few seconds, though completely silent.

the noise from in that basket stopped… you halt in your tracks, lifting the lid of the basket just enough to see him inside. he's curled up in himself scratching at his head. he's probably just cleaning himself.

"You doing alright in there buddy?" you ask, reaching in to poke at his head to pat him.

before you can even react he leaps from the back of your basket, little patters against the path reaching your ears. you turn around to see him running off down the path; away from you, toward the village. shit! without a thought you drop the basket and run off after him, little time to do much else as your focus shifts solely to either catching him or killing him before he can make it to a Human. he's been nice enough to you, but what happens when he gets too hungry? maybe you shouldn't have yelled when he ate all the apples you were gifted.

it's not surprising his stamina is enough to carry his little legs for several minutes, but it's not as if you're not used to this. you're reminded exactly of everything you both love and hate about this job. on one hand, you feel exhilarated by the chase, the adrenaline that pumps through you. at the same time you're overwhelmed by dread whenever your target decides to make a beeline for civilisation, whether to escape you or find food.

he weaves through trees, both of you well off the path by now. there's a clearing, you can tell. you draw your knife noticing how much he's hindered by the threat of obstacles. now will be the chance. you know you can't hesitate just because he spent a few days cozying up to you in your house, you have to set your personal feelings aside.

then suddenly you step into the clearing after him, the sun feeling brighter than before in your eyes, and the dread worsens tenfold almost immediately.

a man clad in armour stands in the clearing, and by the time you can see him your little creature friend has already jumped at him. the little guy's form morphs and contorts, growing into a much larger beast. it was disguising itself, you realise, not a baby. the body of what is now a large beast with sharpening teeth comes crashing down on the man, toppling him to the ground by pure force and you think it's going to kill him, as soon as it tears through that armour he'll be dead.

you step forward to raise your blade, though too small for the job, you can make it work, lifting your arm over your head when--

"There you are. I looked for days, and couldn't find you."

oh. oh now you get it.

you drop your knife to the ground at your feet with a clatter, and hear a hum come from the suit of armour under the best that excitedly greets him. he owns the bloody thing! god you really want to kill him right about now, but that's not exactly ethical nor is it legal unfortunately, so you're going to have to refrain if only by the threat of consequence. who the hell keeps nether creatures as pets? well, actually for a second there… no, no. you're not even going to throw him the bone and excuse that.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" you yell without thinking, only realising your mistake when that beast gnarls its teeth at you, a far different attitude than it had with you before. he can't see that you're concerned, he sees a crazy lady with a knife at her feet yelling at his master.

"Down, Pip." on his command, he retreats back to the man's side, now sitting up. "Did he startle you?"

"What kind of name for that is Pip?" that wasn't exactly what you meant to say, but it certainly was what came out of your mouth as the shock was still wearing off. in reality the name Pip was probably given to the fluffy little one you had picked up, not the much more intimidating beast it became.

"Is there something wrong with that name?" he asks,

"Well no--"

there's a lot wrong with it actually.

"That's not important."

that's a lie.

you feel the silence is awkward, but it is interrupted by Pip morphing again, shrinking this time as he returns to the fluffy little creature you know and tolerate come to beat your leg again. he patters over with an excited little woo like he's come to show you his master, a little child come to lead you off to his best friend as one of his paws flails about in the man’s direction.

this man seems to know Pip, and as much as you don't like these beasts, Pip isn't a danger to anyone. you can really do nothing about either of them. you can't tell what he's thinking, what face he's making as it hides behind the cover of a helmet. you have to base his mood off of his voice, deep as you'd expect, not seemingly phased by your brashness at all. "Was it you who bathed Pip?"

"And fed him." you reply, swatting away the little fur ball though he persists through your defiance, "I was taking him out to get him some berries when he took off."

"He likes those." he says it like a note, telling you to get him more.

"I noticed." your response is a little snarkier than you might like, but too late to change it you resign yourself to holding back your urge to wince and carry on. "He ate all my food, and stole all of my blankets."

he makes a noise like he stifles a chuckle, "He'll do that if he's allowed. Many of Pip's meals aren't so scarce."

"I thought he was spoiled. He wanted my fill too."

"He likes you, for a huntress that is.” he remarks, "If he didn't, he would have eaten you when he was hungry enough."

you know you wouldn't have been taken down too easily, but still the thought of Pip considering eating you while you let him rest in the warmth of your bed nestled against your side makes you swallow hard. maybe let was a generous word considering you tried to dump him out in his pile of blankets several times, only to wander back to your bed now featuring a lump that wasn't there before. either way, the fact he may have at some point been squirming back in to devour you… gorging himself on apples probably solved that hunger problem. maybe you should've thanked him for eating them. 

only then does it occur to you that he had already deduced exactly what you were doing chasing Pip about with a knife - for a huntress, he added. between the knife and the knowledge you had necessary to deal with the fur ball you assumed that was obvious now that you think back to it, but for a moment it had you wondering.

you allow Pip to lead you, hobbling his way back over to direct his little woos at the man clad in armour, like he was telling him some bizarre thing you can’t understand. it is kind of cute, admittedly. if nothing else he is quite dedicated to making you get along, and with this strange man not moving a muscle to stand, you assume that means you’re the one supposed to be sitting down. it feels impolite with your cabin not far from here, you could easily walk the two of them back to offer them something to eat, but it seems Pip would like you to sit here.

too bad for Pip, you don’t really want to sit here.

“Why don’t we go and get Pip some berries and talk instead? Thanks to him my basket is somewhere out on the path to get those berries. It’s a good basket, I don’t want to lose it”

“I didn’t expect a huntress to still want to feed a nether beast.” finally he collects Pip from beside him and stands. something clicks in your brain seeing how tall he is - of course he can wrangle a beast like Pip. if he really wanted to, he probably could’ve stopped Pip from knocking him over in the first place, but perhaps seeing his big little friend was more important than staying on his feet. “Or to meet the huntress who lives in these woods at all.”

“One of the village kids was crying about your ‘dog’ and besides that he’s domestic.” you brush it off quickly not wanting to go into a long spiel of excuses about why you wouldn’t just choke the little thing out, “Wait wait-- what are you on about? I thought only people who seek bounty hunters really knew about them.”

 he walks toward you, Pip under his arm squirming around to little avail, “One of the villagers warned me that my ‘dog’ might’ve been stolen by ‘a crazy lady in red who thinks she slays monsters’ - her words.” he explains.

“Oh cut it out! You haven’t even said your name yet and you’re already going along with what they say.” only lightly you punch him in the sight, though immediately regret it as you shake your hand off remembering you punched a suit of armour.

“Capitano,” he says.

oh. that answers your other question.

he’s a Fatui Harbinger, you should probably not punch him again.

with the two of you already beginning to walk in the direction you came from, you are easily able to set that thought aside in favour of retrieving your good basket which Pip had taken such a liking to that he got stuck in it. it’s still late morning and the sun is still out, a nice day for berry picking, and so berry picking you’ll go, even if you have to do so with guests. that’s fine, you’re not an antisocial crazy lady, and besides you’re starting to like that stupid little nether beast…his owner isn’t all that bad either, maybe the day will be nice with company.

[arkhamknightz]

ghost of you

↳ in which, peter tries moving on

pronouns: they/them

warnings: character death, substance use, au where reader is in gwen's position but they're older, language, uh idk any other warnings besides not proofread and bad wiring let me know if i need to tag anything else! (it'll make sense trust me)

notes: based off ghost of you by 5SOS :) i rlly like the song and i felt like it could fit andrews peter really well! this is also rushed and not proof read i'm sorry goodnight

"here I am waking up, still can't sleep on your side. theres your coffee cup, the lipstick stain fades with time. if i could dream long enough, you'd tell me i'd be just fine, i'd be just fine."

peter woke up with a jolt, the sight of you falling to the ground engraved in his mind, playing over and over again like a broken tape. the sound of your voice haunting his every step as he held your dying body in his arms, crying for you to be okay. god how he wished you could be okay, how he could be okay. he turned his head to window. the view of your empty bed-side in his peripheral vision.

peter wasn't the same after that night, granted nobody would be. he left his spiderman duties and stayed at home. watching as new york city's crime rate was the highest it's ever been, the city desperate to see spiderman again.

everytime peter tried getting better there was always something that brought him right back to that night. the coffee cup you'd drank the morning of the incident. your lipstick stain on the side of the cup that peter just couldn't bring himself to wash. "todays gonna be a great day pete! i can feel it!" oh how wrong you were.

"so i drown it out, like i always do. dancing through our house, with the ghost of you. and i'll chase it down, with a shot of truth. dancing through our house, with the ghost of you."

this is the fifth bottle of alcohol peter had finished this month. his house reeking of beer and vodka, or any type of alcohol he could get his hands on. he was numb. the thought of you dead no longer on his mind as he drank. he would call your phone, drunk texting you that he missed you and couldn't wait for you to get home from work.

the pain of you being gone always hit him in the morning. he would wake up with a headache and would find himself holding one of the stuffed animals you owned. dread washing over him all over again. greif hitting him as if it only happened yesterday.

memories of the both of you danced through the apartment, your favorite records still sitting underneath the record player. peter couldn't even let himself move into the living room to clean the dusty machine as the song you both frequently danced too was still on the player, waiting for the needle to drop and play the song he once thought was oh so beautiful.

"cleaning up today, found that old zepplin shirt, you wore when you ran away. and no one could feel your hurt. we're too young, too dumb, to know things like love. but i know better now (better now)."

peter finally had the motivation to clean up (using a little help from may of course), they had both been cleaning around the house, dusting the records, wiping the counters and cleaning out the fridge. may had pulled out one of your old graphic t-shirts and peter froze.

peter remembered the last time he saw you wear that. you had ran away from home for a week after your parents had been fighting non-stop. you knew peter had been busy with school and so you did the only logical thing you could think of. you ran away from home.

peter had been worried sick, texting you every half hour and spam calling you. he had never felt more relieved when you came back home in one piece, tired smile on your face as you hugged him tightly, apologizing for leaving so abruptly. he remembered the feeling of your face stuck in the crook of his neck, the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist.

he didn't even realize he was crying until may came and hugged him tightly, allowing him to sob into her shoulder. he couldn't ever get you back.

"so i drown it out, like i always do. dancing through our house, with the ghost of you. and i'll chase it down, with a shot of truth. dancing through our house, with the ghost of you."

peter couldn't believe he found himself in this position again. he was sat on the couch, third beer bottle pouring down his throat. seemingly feeling a sense of deja vú as that fuzzy feeling came back. peter wasn't a lightweight, he had gotten over that stage after he started drinking a few months ago. he had gotten better, but here he was, all alone again trying to forget about you being gone.

it's almost like he could still hear your sweet little "peter! i made brownies again!" and he could still feel himself running out of your shared room into the kitchen to come get a piece. he smiled slightly at the memory, his heart feeling fuzzy. even when you're gone he still felt butterflies in his stomach at the thought of you and him in those domestic moments.

he just missed you.

"too young, too dumb, to know things like love, too young, too dumb."

peter didn't think the both of you would last as long as you did. the fear of you leaving him for someone better nagged in the back of his head. lingering there, taunting him. but overtime he learned falling in love with you was the best thing he could've done.

the first time he wanted to tell you that he loved you, he was extremely nervous. so much that he backed out. but he squeezed your hand 3 times, and it seemed like that was all he had to say before the words "i love you too" tumbled out of your mouth. he smiled widely, engulfing your body into a hug as he sighed in content.

no matter what anyone said, he knew falling in love would never be something he would regret. he would go through the pain over and over and over again if it meant he could tell you he loves you one last time.

"so i drown it out like i always do, dancing through our house with the ghost of you. and i chase it down, with a shot of truth. that my feet don't dance, like they did with you."

peter sat in front of the record player you had both bought at a vintage shop, the old record you both used to dance along in the living room to laying on the machine. he slowly pulled the needle down and rested his head against the couch, knees tucked into his body. he slowly swayed along with the song. he held in his tears and sighed.

memories flashing through his head of all the kisses shared, everytime you had danced together playing like some sort of film. he knew things would never and could never be the same without you beside him, maybe he just had to learn how to move on

[bellaslilpapercut]

Oh boy New Moon! I've got some Thoughts a brewin' babey:

1. Smeyer: you do not need to remind your audience what happened last book, they aren't stupid. Imagine if SC started catching fire with ANOTHER explanation of what the hunger games are and that's the vibe of the first chapters of new moon. We remember james, we know what vampires are, we know that Bella is white, stop reminding us!

2. Bella has the worst self esteem of all time. Every bad thing that has happened to her since the Van Incident has been Edward's fault but she still blames herself and idk if this is Intentional Insecurity or if smeyer is protecting edward's "character" or both but gdamn it's depressing.

3. The reason I said Jasper was Inconsistently Written jumped out at me again. Smeyer dedicated a whole paragraph to pointing out how terrible jasper is at the diet or whatever but in the guide, smeyer tells us jasper actively tried to starve himself in the past because of how difficult his gift made feeding. He was one of only two Cullens to show bella empathy, he smelled her blood before, why does he attack her? The weakness of this decision is pointed out in the exposition: if it really were likely that Jasper would attack Bella, she wouldn't have needed a superfluous paragraph dedicated to telling us how bad he is at self control. If the story had convinced us of that beforehand, we would have believed the attack without the addendum.

4. The party is my least favorite part of the whole series and I will die on this hill: edward should have attacked bella. Bella should have tripped into something glass and edward should have lost it because he tasted her blood before and couldn't help himself. That way: edwards self loathing makes sense and he's forced to recon with his superiority complex from the ending chapters of twilight AND bella's self blame makes sense. A vamp who was able to starve himself before he even heard of the cullens should not have lost it around someone he spent days in close quarters with, building rapport and friendship. Edward got too high and mighty after he fed from Bella in Twilight, that should have had real consequence.

5. The writing is getting a little better as we near Edward leaving. "Better" isn't a good word actually but it's getting closer to the prose in twilight (which was flowery and annoying but at least it didn't constantly feel like being spoonfed exposition every paragraph). Hm wrote this blurb while I was still on chapter 3 and the vibe of being spoonfed reminders has not really dissipated lmfao.

We remember Sam Uley, smeyer, you introduced him four chapters ago. Just quick question: did anyone proofread this?? I think it's fair to say: when she isn't reminding us of things that we remember the prose is more similar to twilight. A little annoying but interesting enough to forgive the errors (or at least move past them easily enough lol).

6. I'm on chapter 8 now (I'm gonna break this up into three parts so I don't forget stuff like I did during the twilight reread) and there's a very heavy Vibe that smeyer is setting Jake up to be a parallel for twilight-era Bella. This line here is a pretty clear parallel for Bella telling Edward not to hold his breath in Twilight when he tells her she might get tired of him.

7. This line here "almost happy in a shallow kind of way" really jumped out. What Bella's narration says about Jacob versus her conversations with him (and her one paragraph about his happiness being effortlessly contagious) are at odds. It doesn't read like shallow happiness when she's with Jake. However, Smeyer is also a bad writer, she thinks the story she's telling us is literally what the narration says and not what the action shows and I think she realizes this in Eclipse (but obviously I'm not there yet so I can't say for sure).

8. I really can't get over the drop in writing quality. I know that she had already mostly finished Forever Dawn by the time Twilight was published (or was halfway done, I think her website said she had over 300 pages of forever dawn complete when she found out Twilight was getting published). I think the writing quality really reveals that she was not prepared to write New Moon. It's sloppier than Twilight in a way I'm not able to articulate (by that I mean I personally have a more intuitive than technical understanding of grammar and syntax so I don't have the language to break down the differences). Twilight itself is ripe with technical errors and plot errors and awkward exposition so it's not an overt drop in quality but I think it very much reads like a rushed writing job. She was committed to forever dawn, her publishers wanted New Moon, it shows.

9. I think New Moon was when I first started physically editing my copies of the saga lol. Even reading it now I'm so tempted to open up a word document and cut half of the useless shit out and fix all the grammatical mistakes. I can't even talk shit because I am also a comma-abuser but I hoped an editor would at least catch the errors before publishing. Guess not! Brevity is very clearly not meyers strong suit and this would have been a much stronger sequel if she had been able to reign herself in a bit. New Moon isn't supposed to be as narration heavy as twilight, there's already more action in the first seven chapters than the there was in the first 19 of twilight but she always delivers exposition via awkward dialogue or Bella's narration. Again, we already got a lot of the exposition in twilight, we know how vampires work et cetera. You can show us how bella feels instead of making her tell us and the story would run a lot more smoothly.

10. I'll end on a nice note! Little treat!

This is my favorite part of the book so far. I whited-out the useless dialogue tag because the line reads better without it ( line originally ends with "I emphasized" but she could have been brief and just ended the dialogue with an exclamation point for the same effect). The dialogue is natural and shows the J/B relationship that lives in my head way better than anything else I've seen on the page at this point. Like, I literally love this line more than any dialogue that preceded it (including twilight) lol.