#the moment I hit post on this I am turning around and throwing myself at one of the big projects for the next two days so wish me luck

[joycrispy]

So I've mentioned before that I've had a lot of arts n' crafts small creative projects on the go (and a few not-so-small ones, but that's another post), and I just kinda felt like talking about 3 of them.

SO I WILL.

1. Bookbinding

This is more of an ongoing learning process than any one particular book I'm binding --but the process is going very well. Pictured here is the latest attempt, and my most ambitious attempt in that it was mostly me going, 'huh, I wonder if that would work' and dicking around until I got some sort of result.

(Example: I dyed that cover black. Did not know if it would work. It...kinda does? Further testing required.)

The final book is far from perfect, but I'm actually very happy with it. It's like a prototype of the kind of book I've been wanting to make all along, the whole reason I picked up bookbinding. Old fashioned tomes are the goal here.

More on that in a bit.

2. DnD Character Journals

At the moment I am in three different ongoing campaigns (including one I'd been playing in for two years before Covid happened, now picked back up again, and another which is a sequel to a previously completed campaign. Exciting stuff. The third is a character I usually reserve for one-shots, but she got a whole campaign this time. Good for her!), and I have completed journals for two out of my three characters.

(If you don't know what a character journal is: it's basically just a Character Sheet, but way more extra and ~Aesthetic. Sort of a functional gaming scrapbook. I also design mine to make the game as accessible as possible to my very ADHD brain. I highly recommend it, as a practice).

Pictured here is the main stat page for my monk, Wormwood, who just reached level 5.

Speaking of DnD...

3. Campaign Journal

So anyone who has played with me knows that I take EXTREMELY DETAILED NOTES, but this time around I'm taking the notes, immediately converting them into readable prose recountings (as opposed to fast n' easy notetaker's shorthand, which only makes sense to me), and then sharing them as an editable Google document with the group. They can add anything I missed, or flesh out details I skimmed over, add their character's POV of a scene, or whatever they like!

(This also has the neat side-effect of generating material for the DM's World Anvil, which is nice. He's free to pick and choose what he wants, or ask me to write an article for him, etc.)

This makes it very easy for the group to refresh their memories between sessions, but also, when the campaign is finished...there will be a very thorough record of it.

Last year I had the thought that, with the way I take my notes, I could easily print out a campaign journal and bind it as a physical book, and then have that as a memento/give it as a gift to the other players.

That's an exceptional amount of work to do AFTER the fact, but doing it one session at a time, as they happen...that's very doable.

I mean. People bind novel-length fanfiction for their own personal collections. There's no reason I shouldn't bind a novel-length campaign, lol.

And I can personalize each book to each player, as well! No, yeah, this is EXACTLY the kind of thing I love to contribute to a game. The group's excited, I'm excited, lots to look forward to, here.

I have other projects, including two large ones that are each going to take the better part of 2024, which slows all these little ones down...but I'm consistently whittling down the daily to-do list into something more manageable.

And work is nice right now because my main job atm is something I'm really, really good at...

(charity fundraising: my location is 1st in the district and 7th in the country for donations, and almost a third of those donations were made through me. I'm very, very good at this part of my job)

(I tend to be good at things I care about --ADHD, like I say-- and our partner charity benefits local queer and disabled kids who need shelter and support, so, YES, I CARE ABOUT THAT)

...so it makes the days pass quickly and peacefully. I get to come home in a good mood to all my little arts n' crafts. It's been very fun.

I'm glad I have time to be on tumblr again, though.

[1whore1gang]

“You okay honey?”

Inspired by this post

Summary: the TF141 boys play rock, paper, scissors to determine who will play the role of the doting yet protective boyfruend for you tonight so pervs don’t come flirt with you

It’s short, but my brain isn’t working lately

warnings: some sexual content

“Guys come on, seriously.” I stared on as Price and Soap were in the ‘finals’ of their competition to see who’d be your fake boyfriend tonight at the bar. Price cheers as he finally defeats Soap, wrapping his arm around you and placing a sweet kiss to your temple.

This had been an ongoing thing with the four of them since you had an altercation with a creep at a bar and had to punch said dude in the face. The boys didn’t want you to worry about that anymore, so they always play the role of the protective boyfriend/fiancé/husband for you. It’s worked well so far, so you can’t complain.

You also won’t complain about the attention you get from them.

Each man had a different way, each with their own pros and cons.

Gaz was sweet and affectionate, and he was calm of a guy were to come up to you. He handled everything with grace, but he wasn’t too keen on being super touchy. He’d compliment you, stand behind you during conversations and maybe place a hand on your tight, but that was all.

Ghost, was hardly a boyfriend type. He didn’t ever touch you, unless you physically forced his hand into yours, and even then he’d tense at the action. As much as he cared and wanted to protect you, he wasn’t there to pretend to be your boyfriend, he was there to pummel any man who looked in your direction.

Soap, he was so much fun when he was your fake boyfriend. He was touchy, clingy, fiesty and all over perfect. He was always by your side, hands around your waist, lips pecking your neck lightly, teasing you. That was his approach, he’d tease you all night, make you want him. Most of the time, the moment you both left the bar, you’d burst out laughing at how you two acted, but there’s been some nights you ended up in his bed.

Price, was a beautiful fake lover. He was sweet and tender. He catered to you and always had a hand on you, silently claiming you as his to everyone in the bar. He’d whisper sweet nothings in your ear when he saw another man looking, making you squirm. He was your favorite by far, the way he so gently held you, kissed you. His actions were tender, the fire only showing up if a man wouldn’t leave you alone.

“You ready doll?” Price’s voice sounded out. You nodded, leaning into him.

You all headed out to the bar, the night going wonderfully. You had beaten Ghost in a game of pool, had the bartender buy you all a round of shots, and more. The music had you swaying your hips as you lined up your shot in pool. You were against Soap now, the championships.

You were lining up to hit the 8-ball, your jeans tightening around your ass when you felt a pair of strong hands grope you. You smiled, prepared to see Price, but before you could turn around, your eyes met all 4 men across the table from you. All four of them looked angry. You fully stood up, turning around to see an older man, maybe a couple years older than Price looking down at you seductively. “Can I help you?”

“Your ass looked to delicious, I couldn’t help myself.” He licked his lips.

“I suggest you back off.” Your voice was matter of factly.

“Why? You gonna hurt me? A little thing like you?” He cooed. I couldn’t help but laugh at the man. “What’s so funny?” He smiled.

“I won’t hurt you, but they will.” Throwing my thumb over my shoulder to the four men.

“You okay honey?” Price’s voice purred beside me, his hand landing on my back.

The guy looked up to Price, who towered over him. “I don’t know, am I?” I said, smirking at the man.

“I was just telling her how pretty she looked.” He gulped.

Price chuckled. “By grabbing her ass? Nuh uh.” Price stepped forward. “Let’s go have a little talk.” Grabbing the man’s arm, he took him outside of the bar.

Soap ran to you, asking if you were okay. You smiled and nodded your head. “Yeah I’m okay Johnny.” You patted his bicep.

Ghost and Gaz stood by the pool table, watching everyone’s things, including Price’s car keys and your purse.

Soon, Price waltzed back into the bar. His hips swaying as he sauntered back over to you, swooping his arm around your waist and pulling you in. “He won’t be bothering you anymore.” He kissed the top of your head as you returned to your pool tournament.

A couple of weeks later, you were all out a new bar across town, Soap’s arms wrapped around your waist as you spoke to some people. He had won the rock, paper, scissors that night. Your eyes widened as you heard a familiar voice, “You!”

Your face turned as Soap straightened up to his full height, one of his hands remaining on the small of your back. Your eyes met the man from the bar that night with Price. “Who’s this man? You get around fast.”

His voice was confident, like he had caught me doing something wrong. I looked at Soap, who looked ready to pounce. The fire was in Soap’s eyes as he bared his teeth in a smile. “You like my lady? Like what you see?”

“She’s a fiery one she is, just look at her.” The man bit his lip as he made a curve motion with his hands to simulate the shape of your hips. Soap let out a low chuckle.

“Any man knows you don’t answer that question honestly.” He dead panned, Soap’s voice deadly. “Why don’t I make this easy on you and let you walk away unharmed?”

The other man licked his lips, unmoving. Soap took a step forward, his hand sliding off of you as he stood just next to you, his size defined next to you.

“Either you walk away or you never walk again.” Soap growled.

The man quickly cowered, eyes widened. “Where do you find these men?” He shouted before scampering into the crowd.

“Thank you.” I said, kissing Soap. He was always much more willing to do PDA than the others, really making it believable to those in the bar that you were a couple.

“Anything for you my dear.” Soap said sweetly. “Shall we ditch this joint?”

I giggled, grabbing at his chest. “Are you gonna do that thing with your fingers again?” I bit my lip.

We heard someone clear their throat as we both backed away from each other, looking to the other 3 men. “We’re right here ya know?” Ghost spoke.

Soap and I laughed as the others bursted out in chuckles and smiles.

“Ya we know.” You said, earning some more chuckles out of the men and an ass grab from Soap.

[a-lexia11]

New Beginning

Alessia Russo x reader

Leah Williamson x reader (past)

Word count:2.9k

Summary: After Leah breaks up with you, you and your teammate and close friend, Alessia, confess your feelings for each other.

Based on this request

Note: Okay, I wasn’t planning on posting this today, but Arsenal’s 6-0 win really moved me, so here’s a little fic for you.

The sun was setting as I made my way home after another grueling training session. The late autumn air was crisp, the sky a soft gradient of pink and orange.

Normally, this would be my favorite time of day—the perfect moment to unwind with Leah after practice, laughing about our day and making dinner together.

But tonight was different. Tonight, there was a heaviness in the air, a tension that had been growing between us for weeks.

I walked into our shared flat, the familiar scent of Leah's lavender candles filling the space.

She was sitting on the couch, her posture tense, eyes distant. I knew what was coming before she even opened her mouth.

“Y/N, we need to talk” she said, her voice quiet, almost hesitant.

My heart sank, but I forced myself to stay calm. “What’s going on, Leah?”

She took a deep breath, avoiding my gaze.

“I've been thinking... a lot. And I think... I think we need to break up.”

Her words hit me like a freight train. I stared at her, stunned, unable to process what she was saying. “What? Why? Where is this coming from?”

Leah finally met my eyes, and I could see the conflict there. She wasn’t doing this lightly. “I love you, Y/N. I really do. But I feel like… like I need to figure out who I am outside of this relationship. I need to see other people, to explore what else is out there.”

I blinked, trying to wrap my head around her words. “You want to see other people? Leah, we’ve been together for three years. We’ve built a life together. And now you’re telling me you want to throw it all away because you’re curious about what else is out there?”

Her expression softened, and she reached out to take my hand, but I pulled away. “I’m not trying to hurt you” she whispered. “I just… I need to do this for myself.”

The pain in my chest was unbearable, but I tried to keep my voice steady. “What about everything we’ve been through? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Leah looked away, tears welling up in her eyes. “Of course it does. But if I stay… if we stay together, I’ll always wonder what I missed. And that wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

I stood there, feeling like my world was crumbling around me. The woman I loved more than anything was slipping away, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. “So that’s it then? You’re just… leaving?”

Leah swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think it’s for the best”

The silence that followed was deafening. I didn’t say anything else. I couldn’t. I just turned and walked out of the room, out of our home, needing to escape before the tears started to fall.

——

After the breakup, the days blurred together. I went through the motions—training, matches, pretending everything was fine. But inside, I was a mess.

Seeing Leah every day, pretending we were just teammates and nothing more, was torture.

I needed an escape, someone to talk to who wouldn’t judge me or tell me to just get over it.

That’s when I called Alessia.

Alessia had always been one of my closest friends. We’d known each other for years, and she’d been there for me through thick and thin.

When I told her what happened with Leah, she didn’t hesitate. She invited me over to her place, and from that moment on, she became my lifeline.

“Hey, Y/N, come in,” Alessia said with a warm smile when I showed up at her door. “I’ve already got your favorite wine chilled and pizza on the way.”

I managed a small smile, grateful for her efforts. You know me too well, Less.”

She led me inside, and I collapsed onto her couch, feeling like I could finally breathe for the first time in days.

Alessia sat beside me, handing me a glass of wine and giving me that soft, reassuring look that always made me feel like everything would be okay.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked gently.

I took a sip of wine, the warmth of it helping to ease the knot in my chest. “She said she needed to see other people. That she wasn’t sure who she was outside of us.”

Alessia frowned, her blue eyes full of concern. “That’s… I’m so sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve that.”

I shrugged, trying to act like it didn’t hurt as much as it did. “I guess she just didn’t love me enough to stay.”

Alessia reached over, taking my hand in hers. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re amazing, Y/N. If she couldn’t see that, then that’s her loss.”

Her words were comforting, but I still felt hollow inside. “I just… I thought we had something real, you know? And now it’s like… like it never mattered.”

“It did matter,” Alessia insisted. “And you’re allowed to grieve that. But you’re also allowed to move on, to find happiness again.”

I looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, I noticed something different.

The way her eyes softened when she looked at me, the way her fingers lingered on mine just a little too long.

But I pushed the thought aside. Alessia was my friend. She was just being supportive, nothing more.

——

Over the next few weeks, Alessia became my rock. She invited me to stay at her place whenever I needed to, and we spent countless nights together, just talking or watching TV.

She made me meals, dragged me to the gym to train, and even let me cry on her shoulder when I needed to.

One night, after a particularly tough day at training, we were lying on her couch, cuddled up under a blanket, watching some random movie neither of us was paying attention to.

“Thanks for putting up with me, Less,” I murmured, my head resting on her shoulder.

“Always,” she replied softly, her hand gently running through my hair. “You’re worth it.”

Her words made my heart skip a beat, and I found myself wondering what it would be like to kiss her.

To feel her lips on mine, to hold her close in a way that was more than just friendly. But I pushed the thought away again.

Alessia was my best friend, and the last thing I wanted to do was ruin that.

But the feelings wouldn’t go away. I started noticing everything about her—the way her laugh lit up the room, the way she always knew how to make me smile, the way her eyes seemed to sparkle whenever she looked at me.

And I couldn’t deny it anymore. I was falling for her.

One evening, I decided to surprise her with her favorite takeout as a thank you for everything she’d done for me.

But when I got to her place, I hesitated. I could hear her talking on the phone, her voice muffled through the door.

“I don’t know what to do, Ella” she was saying. “I’m so in love with Y/N, but I can’t tell her. She just got out of a relationship, and I don’t want to make things complicated.”

My heart raced as I pressed my ear closer to the door, unable to believe what I was hearing.

“You have to tell her,” Ella replied. “You can’t keep this to yourself forever. It’s hurting you, and it’s not fair to either of you.”

“I know,” Alessia sighed. “But what if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if I ruin everything?”

Ella’s voice softened. “You’ll never know unless you try, Less. And who knows? Maybe she feels the same way.”

I backed away from the door, my mind spinning. Alessia… loved me? I couldn’t believe it.

But as I replayed all our moments together in my head, it suddenly made sense. The way she’d been there for me, the way she looked at me, the way she always seemed to know what I needed before I did.

I left quietly, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed time to process this, to figure out what I wanted.

But one thing was clear—I wasn’t alone in my feelings. Alessia felt the same way.

——

A few days later, I finally worked up the courage to talk to her. I invited her over, and when she arrived, I could tell she was nervous.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. “Alessia, I overheard your conversation with Ella the other night.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “You… you heard that?”

I nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope. “Yeah. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot. About us.”

Alessia looked down, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want you to find out like that. I just… I didn’t want to complicate things for you.”

I reached out and took her hand, my heart pounding in my chest. “You didn’t complicate anything, Less. If anything, you made things clearer for me.”

Her eyes met mine, searching for any sign of what I was feeling. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… I’ve been falling for you too. Ever since the breakup, I’ve started seeing you in a different light. You’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t even realize I needed. And now, knowing you feel the same way... it just makes everything make sense."

Alessia blinked, clearly stunned by my words. For a moment, she just stared at me, as if trying to process what I’d said.

Then, slowly, her expression softened into something that looked like cautious hope. “You… you really feel that way?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

I nodded, squeezing her hand. “I do. I’ve been so scared of ruining our friendship, but the truth is, I don’t think I can pretend anymore. I don’t want to just be your friend, Alessia. I want more”

Alessia’s breath hitched, and I could see the tears welling up in her eyes.

She pulled me into a tight hug, burying her face in my shoulder. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “But I was so scared of losing you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” I murmured, holding her close. “If anything, I think we’re about to find something even better.”

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s arms, both of us soaking in the reality of what we’d just confessed.

When we finally pulled apart, Alessia looked at me with a nervous smile.

“So… what now?” she asked.

“Well,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips, “how about we start with a date? A real one.”

Her eyes lit up, the nervousness giving way to excitement. “I’d love that.”

The next few days passed in a blur of anticipation. We both tried to keep things as normal as possible during training, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention from the team.

But every time our eyes met across the pitch, there was a spark of something new, something exciting.

When the day of our date finally arrived, I found myself more nervous than I’d ever been.

I dressed in something casual but nice, making sure I looked put together without trying too hard.

I’d planned everything out—Alessia’s favorite restaurant, a walk along the Thames, and then maybe we’d end the night with a quiet moment back at my place.

When she arrived to pick me up, she looked stunning, her usual athletic attire replaced with a simple yet elegant outfit that made my heart skip a beat.

“You look amazing,” I said, feeling a bit breathless as I took her in.

Alessia blushed, giving me a shy smile. “So do you. Ready to go?”

The date went better than I could have imagined. We laughed, we talked, and it felt like the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

All the fears I’d had about ruining our friendship melted away as we slipped into this new dynamic, one that felt like it had been there all along, just waiting for us to acknowledge it.

After dinner, we took a walk along the river, the city lights reflecting off the water as we strolled side by side.

At some point, our hands found each other, fingers intertwining in a way that felt so right.

“You know,” Alessia said softly as we paused to look out over the water, “I’ve imagined this moment so many times. But I never thought it would actually happen.”

I turned to look at her, my heart swelling with affection. “Well, here we are. And honestly, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

She smiled, her eyes shining as she leaned in closer. “Neither can I.”

The kiss that followed was slow, sweet, and filled with the kind of emotion that only comes from years of built-up feelings finally being set free.

It was perfect, and I knew in that moment that this was where I was meant to be—with Alessia, in this new chapter of our lives.

When we finally pulled apart, I rested my forehead against hers, both of us breathing heavily. “Do you want to come back to my place?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Alessia nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

The rest of the night was a blur of whispered words and stolen kisses. We ended up back at my place, where we spent hours just talking, cuddling, and reveling in this new connection between us.

It was late—early morning, really—when we finally fell asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms with my head resting on Alessia’s chest

For the first time since Leah had broken up with me, I felt at peace. I wasn’t just surviving anymore; I was living, and it was all because of Alessia.

——

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. Alessia and I tried to keep things low-key, not wanting to rush anything or make the team suspicious.

But it wasn’t long before people started to notice the shift between us. The lingering glances, the private smiles, the way we were always together, even more so than usual.

It was only a matter of time before Leah found out.

I knew it was going to happen eventually, but that didn’t make it any easier. We were in the locker room after a match, everyone laughing and celebrating a well-deserved win, when I saw Leah watching me and Alessia from across the room.

Her expression was carefully neutral, but I could see the hurt in her eyes.

When most of the team had cleared out, Leah approached me. “Y/N, can we talk?”

I nodded, my stomach twisting in knots. "

“Yeah, of course.”

We stepped outside, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the warmth of the locker room. Leah leaned against the wall, crossing her arms as she looked at me.

“So,” she began, her voice calm but strained, “you and Alessia, huh?”

I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “Yeah. It just… it happened. I didn’t plan for it, but…”

Leah nodded, cutting me off. “I get it. You don’t have to explain. I just… I didn’t think it would happen so fast.”

“It wasn’t fast,” I said quietly. “It just… felt right. After everything…”

Leah sighed, running a hand through her hair. ���I know. And I’m happy for you, Y/N. I really am. It’s just… hard, you know? I didn’t realize how much I’d regret my decision until I saw you with her.”

Her words hit me hard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. “Leah…”

“No, it’s okay,” she interrupted, forcing a smile. “I made my choice, and I have to live with it. I just… I miss you.And it’s hard seeing you with someone else, but I’ll get over it.”

I nodded, feeling a pang of sadness for what we’d lost. “I miss you too, Leah. But… Alessia makes me happy. And I think this is what’s best for both of us.”

Leah looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

We stood in silence for a while, the unspoken words hanging between us. Finally, Leah gave me a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.“

“I will,” I promised.

As Leah walked away, I felt a mix of emotions—sadness for what we’d lost, but also a sense of closure.

It wasn’t going to be easy, but I knew we’d both be okay in the end.

When I returned to the locker room, Alessia was waiting for me, concern written all over her face. “Everything okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.

I nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yeah. It’s going to be okay.”

She smiled back, and in that moment, I knew that no matter what happened, we’d face it together.

We had something real, something worth fighting for. And as I took her hand in mine, I knew that this was only the beginning of our story.

A new beginning, and one I wouldn’t trade for anything.

FIN

[hunkpossession0]

Stealing my former high school bully’s body was so easyyy. Look, now I am hot, and the best part is that I’m gay.

I leaned back in the plush leather seat of his—no, my—new car, savoring the feeling of power. God, I’d waited so long for this. All those years of torment, the sneers, the shoves into lockers, the homophobic slurs... they were all a distant memory now, fading away like smoke. The only thing that mattered was this body I was now inhabiting, perfectly sculpted and oozing confidence.

I smirked at the reflection in the rearview mirror. His—my—strong jawline, the chiseled features that had made everyone swoon, and those piercing blue eyes that used to look down on me with contempt were now mine to control. And control them I would.

The plan had come to me after a particularly rough night, one too many drinks mixed with the lingering bitterness of my high school years. I’d always been obsessed with the idea of revenge, but not the kind that left scars. I wanted something deeper, more satisfying. I wanted to become him. To live the life he’d never appreciated and do it better.

It wasn’t hard to find a spell. You’d be surprised at how many dark corners of the internet are devoted to body swapping. A few emails, a payment sent in crypto, and a strange-looking amulet later, I was ready. The ritual was simple enough—though it took a lot of concentration. But the moment I slipped it around his neck while he slept, it was over in seconds. I woke up in his bed, in his skin, and he… well, I don’t know where he is now. I like to imagine he’s trapped somewhere, conscious of what’s happening but completely powerless.

The first thing I did was check myself out in the mirror—really take in everything I’d just acquired. This body wasn’t just hot; it was perfect. Years of disciplined workouts, clean eating, and who knows what else had transformed him into someone who looked like they walked straight off a magazine cover.

Actually, make that literally off a magazine cover. I found a stack of fashion magazines under his bed with his stupidly gorgeous face plastered on them. He’d somehow turned his pretty-boy looks and gym rat habits into a full-fledged modeling career. I guess that explained the ridiculous number of selfies on his phone, each one showing off a different outfit or a perfectly timed flex in front of the mirror.

So yeah, I wasn’t giving up the gym. If anything, I was leaning into it. It’s not like I had to do much to maintain this body—he’d already done the hard work, and now I was reaping the benefits. I still hit the gym daily, if only to flex for the mirrors and admire my reflection. The attention I get now is incredible, and the best part is, I can be shameless about it.

Of course, I couldn’t wait to see what Grindr was like from this side of things. Installing the app was the first thing I did once I figured out the password to his phone. The moment I uploaded a shirtless pic, the notifications started rolling in—an endless stream of thirsty messages. Guys were practically lining up for a chance with me, throwing compliments, and I have to admit, I loved every second of it.

I’d spend hours swiping through profiles, chatting up whoever caught my eye. The way people reacted to me now was night and day compared to before. No more awkward small talk, no more second-guessing myself. I could tell someone to meet me at the gym just to watch me lift, and they’d show up without hesitation.

And the best part? I’ve started getting more gigs, just from a few posts on social media showing off his—no, my—body. Modeling agencies are all about that lean muscle, those killer cheekbones, that smirk that could melt anyone on the other end of the camera. He’d never really appreciated what he had, but I’m about to take this career to the next level. I’ve already got a photoshoot lined up for some luxury brand—an easy way to rake in the cash while showing off.

His—my—Instagram is blowing up too. I’m always in the gym, flexing and posting thirst traps for the masses. The likes pour in, and the comments? They’re pure gold. People are practically worshipping me, and I’ve only just begun. This body was wasted on him, but now that it’s mine, I’m going to enjoy every moment of it.

Every time I flex, every time I see a new message pop up on Grindr, it’s a reminder of just how sweet this revenge is. Not only did I take his body, but I’m living his life better than he ever could. I’m hotter, more confident, and finally free to be myself in the best possible way.

This is just the beginning.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Edge Of Ever After | 2

Part 1 2 3

Sandor runs his fingers down my spine and sighs, "everything I ever touch goes to shit." He grabs my hip and pulls me close. I turn to him and nestle my face into his chest. He traps me in his arms, "but you... you turn my shit into gold."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, POV shifts!, mentions/depictions of pregnancy/miscarriage/mensuration/the likes, enemies to lovers, remnants of forced marriage, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, miscommunication, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: about time i posted the next part here on tumblr this is originally posted on ao3

I gag as I watch maester Yannick swirl around a flask of my urine by the window. He holds it by the light and I have to look away as he inspects it.

"I wouldn't hold my breath, maester," I mutter as the man heads towards his desk.

"Of course not. You're doing it for me," he says as he places the sample down and scribbles on parchment, "now. Any cravings, besides the obvious strawberry pie one."

I suck in a deep breath before sighing, "no. None at all."

Maester Yannick turns to me and squints, "any physical symptoms? Mood swings? Sore breasts?"

I lightly clear my throat and shake my head, "none."

He turns back to his journal and writes something. He takes a moment before asking, "when was the last time you coupled?"

I wipe my face and buzz my lips, "...10 days?"

He chuckles, "well that explains it."

"E-... Explains what?"

"Why he's so much of a hound lately," he closes his journal with a thud, "nasty temper that one-- but what do you expect from a man who drinks wine like water?"

I lick my lips and pick at my nails.

"Pah, don't worry," he waves me off, "you married a grump. He was grumpier before," he raises a brow, "and I didn't have to be there to know it."

Maester Yannick walks over to me, grabs my shoulders and nods, "now. My learned self deduces you are probably in the early stages of childbearing." He raises a finger, "that being said, you have had issues with your moon cycle before."

The old man releases me, only to push me towards the door. I look at him in panic as he seems not to want to continue what he was going to say.

"My dear," he opens the door, "my advice is to simply wait."

"Wait?!" I pull away from him to face him, "what does that mean?"

"It means just go about your day. Don't think about this because we cannot be certain of a consensus. Go to the festival in the town. Bring your dogs. Bring your husband," he motions to the open door, "make merry. It's good for your health, and for whatever life you could possibly - if the gods will it - be carrying."

Maester Yannick effectively kicks me out of his office after that. 

He was horrible with that news, and rather vague. I don't know if I should cry, be angry, or be sad. Or happy? Should I be happy? Well... I don't know what I am.

I find myself recounting everything our maester told me as I walk down the hallway. When I make my way to the living area, I am greeted by 3 cold snouts of 3 pups that were getting too big to be called that in my opinion.

I smile at them and head towards the settee. I sit down and grab the ball I left there, throwing the thing into the hall, watching the dog siblings clamour after it. I continue to do this and only stop whenever there's someone passing by.

At some point, in my absentmindedness, I throw the ball too hard and it hits the end of the hall, bouncing off into the other. I watch the dogs chase after it and sequentially have to chase after them.

Seeings as the pups were great retrievers, I was expecting them to meet me halfway in the hall as I followed. When they don't, I call out to them with concern.

"Go on," a gruff voice says, "your mam's calling you lot."

I reach the end of the hall and see Sandor shooing away the three beasts by the door to his office. I smile at him as he growls to intimidate them; the dogs only bark back and wag their tails.

"Let the poor man go," I say as I walk over.

Sandor looks up at me. I chuckle as I watch his annoyed expression soften.

He purses his lips and steps forward, "they don't listen to me."

"They do," I cross my arms, "they just want to play.'

"Then they clearly don't listen to me," he corrects.

I shrug, "they do."

He rolls his eyes and places a hand on his hips, "did you want to go to the festival? The townsfolk have been fucking yapping to me about it. They want to see you."

I tighten my arms around me as I think about what Yannick said again.

Sandor's eyes dart down, landing on my chest. His nose twitches and he clears his throat as he looks away.

"I want to go but I..." I hesitate.

It catches Sandor's attention and makes him look back at me.

"I have something to tell you."

His brows furrow, "what is it?"

Lilac begins to bark loudly. It makes both of us turn to her and shush her out of instinct. She barks some more just to drive her point then shakes her floppy ears.

Sandor, finally having enough, picks up Lilac, and she immediately stops barking. He makes a face at the dog as she lolls her tongue out, clearly happy to be finally be carried.

I giggle and pet her head, "such a pampered princess."

The Hound side eyes her.

It's not long until Rose and Sage are barking up their protests. The Hound has no choice but to carry three pups in his arms.

I chuckle as I watch Sage make a fuss, like always. He liked having his front paws on Sandor's shoulder, and so he fussed until he got what he wanted. Sandor cradled the two girls in his arms.

"You were saying?" mutters my husband, pretending to be more annoyed than he actually was. 

I frown, "they don't like it when I carry them."

"You can't carry them," he adjusts his hold, "not all at once."

I huff and pet Rose on the head. She leans into my touch.

"Well?"

I look at Sandor, "hmm?"

"You have something to tell me," he repeats.

I weigh the options in my head. I decide on what to say and stop petting Rose in lieu of petting Lilac. I suck in a breath, "I want to buy a melon."

He knits his brows, "what?"

I stroke Sage on the back and he turns around only to look away a second later, "I want to buy a melon. At the festival."

"That's it?"

I nod and lie, "that's it."

He half shrugs, "then we'll get a melon. Why'd you say it like you meant to say you don't want to go with me?"

"I do!"

"You don't want to go-"

"I WANT TO GO WITH YOU!"

He presses his lips together. He is unable to hold back his chuckle but then wipes off his grin, and shrugs, "so? What's the problem?"

"It's just..." I think of an excuse to cover up my lie, "I feel bad that you carried that pumpkin all the way here from the market."

Sandor raises his brows. He looks disgusted. His lips twitch, "I carried a cow once, you know that?"

I blink at his words and debate its truth.

"Look," he rocks the pups in his hands, "three fucking wee cows right now."

I break into a laugh.

He looks like he's about to set the pups down but he stops himself when he sees how they look like they're about to doze off. He sighs, "we're not bringing these mutts."

He grumbles all the way to their dog bed where he gently puts them down.

I babble about why I wanted a melon to Sandor all the way to the festival to continue making my agitation over what I really wanted to tell him subside. We decided to walk because I said I wanted to pick flowers on the way, even though the truth was... I wanted the travel to the festival to be longer.

The festival was a harvest event where the folks celebrated their crops. They held some contests for their livestock and their plants, and they also did pantomime and jigs. At least that's what I could remember from the little memory I had of it as a child.

"Oh, look!" I point to a flower, "that looks beautiful."

Sandor sighs as I rush towards a large flower. He shakes his head and places his hands on his hips as he follows after me, "love, at this point, we're not going to get to the festival. You keep heading the other way."

I pluck the flower and bring it into the small bouquet I had in my hand. I looked at my arrangement and decided it was too... yellow for it.

I shake my head and walk towards Sandor, "too yellow." 

He looks down as I hand it to him. He raises his brows, "what do you want me to do?" He takes the flower and makes a face, "paint it?"

"Mmmmmm.... maybe you can-"

A scream of terror cuts me off.

My heart drops and immediately, Sandor pulls me behind him. He places his hand on his scabbard, glad to never leave the house without steel.

There is a rustle by the foliage.

He says over his shoulder, "step back."

I do so without question.

It doesn't take long until there's a running sound getting closer. Quickly, a woman, ragged and panting, emerges from behind the trees.

"HELP!"

Sandor is on his guard.

She was being pursued by a woodland monster. I was mortified to see it and was ready to run back home.

Sandor chuckles when he sees how tiny it was. He screams to taunt the beast and draws it away from me and the woman. Sure enough, the thing begins to head towards him and, in truth, I'm a bit concerned by how easily he killed it and how... happy he looked to do so.

Sandor sheathes his sword without wiping it off and head towards me. He looks at me with concern, "are you alright?"

I stare at him, wondering about the damage killing so many monsters was doing to him.

Sandor looks to the ground and picks something up. He takes my hand and I look down to see him placing the flowers I picked back into my hold. I hadn't even realized I dropped them. It was at this moment I was snapped back into reality. There was a woman being chased just a few seconds ago.

I turn and see the said person, clutching her chest as she caught her breath. I walk towards her, "are you hurt?"

Sandor makes sure to keep me behind him as we approach her.

She gasps for air twice before turning to me to shake her head, "no..." she pants, "but I am thirsty."

I turn to Sandor, who looks at me for a few seconds then her. He tilts his head, "why were you in the woods?"

"Sandor," I scold for not immediately offering to give her water.

"I was trying to forage food," she sighs, "I thought it was safe enough to do that now. Clearly I was wrong "

I nudge Sandor on the rib. He sighs, "you want some water?"

She nods quickly.

He looks at me and I smile at him. I turn to the woman, "my husband and I would be glad to give you some." 

She sighs in relief, "thank you."

Sandor did not once take his eyes off the woman, not even when I nudged him with my elbow for glaring.

Lorena was her name. I sat next to her on our bench in our front yard, watching as she finished an entire ewer of water.

She sets her cup down on the space between us with a sigh. I smile at her when she turns to me. She wipes her lips on her sleeve, "thank you kindly, lady."

"You're welcome."

"Alright, you had your drink," Sandor says, "time to go."

I make a face as Sandor comes to Lorena's side, "Sandor."

Lorena stands up, "may I say one thing before I go, Lady Clegane."

My forehead wrinkles. I stand as well, "of course. And pay no mind to my husband. You may stay to catch your breath if you'd like."

The Hound scoffs, "then she'll ask for a meal, and a place to stay."

I nearly roll my eyes but decide to cover my annoyance with a smile.

Lorena gives me a solemn expression, "may I speak freely?"

For a second, I wonder why she had to preface with this, but I disregard the thought and nod, "of course."

"You have a monster with you, large and viscous."

My expression drops.  I part my lips, "... I beg your pardon?"

Lorena turns to Sandor. I am flabbergasted by her offensive insinuation 

My eyes dart between the two. My husband seems wholely unfazed by the horrendous accusation, which makes it all the more unbearable for me. I do not get the opportunity to speak however.

"Your endeavor to purge the forest is futile, so long as she lives like this," Lorena tells Sandor.

I chuckle dryly, "I BEG your pardon?!"

She turns to me and knits her brows. She looks worried and shakes her head, "you must get cleansed by a spellcaster who has the same or more power than the one who cursed your family, Lady Clegane."

I freeze at her words. My brows knit. I blink rapidly, stunned by what she was saying now.

Sandor narrows his eyes, "what curse?"

Lorena turns back to Sandor, as if in disbelief of his question. Regardless, she clarifies, "the curse of the forest, of Brown Wood; the curse of her clan."

I gulp at her words. I slap a hand to my mouth, suddenly queasy. A bitter taste grows as the woman continues.

"I grew up in Essos. My mother was a soothsayer. She could read your future from a look of your palm. I inherited but a fraction of her gift, which is why I cannot help you myself."

"Essos?" Sandor scoffs, "let me guess, you're from Volantis?"

Lorena nods, "I am."

The Hound cackles, throwing his head back as he did.

I feel bile rise up my throat.

Lorena looks disgruntled as Sandor calms and shakes his head. "All right, wench," he grabs her arm, "get out of he--"

I run towards a nearby bush and begin to retch. Sandor immediately releases Lorena and dashes to my side.

Lorena looks at me and mutters something foreign under her breath. 

I vomit a good amount before straightening up, weakly leaning into Sandor as he pulls me into his chest. My head is pounding. I hear him repeat my name as he wipes my lips with his sleeve.

"Your monster is fighting back now that it's been recognized," Lorena says with pity.

Sandor enraged, "fuck off! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

She is taken aback, "but I-"

"I'VE HEARD ENOUGH FROM YOUR CUNT MOUTH!"

Lorena flinches and slowly walks back before ultimately running away.

"N-no-" I turn to her, "wa-it!"

Sandor pulls me back, circling around to block me. He clutches my cheeks, lowering himself to examine my face, "are you alright?"

I shake my head in an attempt to push him away. I, in fact, push him, but he doesn't budge, "you scared her off, Sandor! She had more to say-"

"I'd have severed her tongue for it," he quips, placing his hands on my shoulder, pushing me back, "we're going inside."

"But-" but I can only walk in the direction he's dragging me.

Sandor causes as scene when we get inside. He sits me down and starts shouting, "SOMEONE GET FUCKING WATER FOR THE DAMNED LADY OF THE HOUSE, YOU LAZY SHITS."

"Sandor," I whimper, wiping my face as I watch him pace around, demanding attention.

He walks towards me, kneeling by the chair I was sat on. Right on cue, the patter of paws fill the air and three barking pups come running over. Two of them nip at Sandor's clothing, eager for his attention. One of them, Lilac, barks at me, loudly requesting to be picked up.

I huff and chuckle at the creatures, shushing them while picking up Lilac, "don't upset your father more than he already is."

Sandor's heart skips when he hears that. Aye, it was not the first time he's heard it but it doesn't make it any less exciting for him. He looks over his shoulder and eyes the pups, "shut it."

Rose howls and sticks out her tongue.

"Stupid bitch," he grumbles.

I frown, "Sandor."

He clears his throat.

A servant comes with an ewer and a cup. I'm about to say thank you, but Sandor barks out to call Maester Yannick, and so the poor thing scurries off to do just that.

"That's enough," I scowl at him, "I'm fine."

Sandor's face sours, "you fucking vomited-- fine my arse."

"You heard her," I sigh and cuddle with Lilac, "it's the curse reacting to-"

"You're not cursed," Sandor quips.

My eyes water.

A beat passes.

I watch Sandor's expression harden. At the same time, Sage begins his attempt to climb up the chair. Sandor moves his leg around when Rose begins to nip at ends of his trousers.

With a raised brow and an eye roll, Sandor picks both Sage and Rose, handing them over to me.

The reunited siblings begin to silently play with each other on my lap. Their legs kick my arms and chest but I could not care less.

"That cunt bitch was hired by Littlefinger to fuck with you," Sandor stands and peers down at me, "don't you see? She's conveniently from Volantis and can see monster remnants-- HA-- even I can do a better job than that."

I begin to feel my stomach sour again, my face scrunching in return. 

Sandor is flooded with concern. At the same time, the puppies begin to jump off me. He hisses, "gods," bending down to prevent the pups from injuring themselves.

The siblings chase each other around the room and sequentially find a toy to play with.

I take a deep breath, which thankfully helps to calm my stomach. I sigh, "I don't think so."

He looks at me.

"I think she sincerely wants to help."

He deflates his lungs. He calls my name again, "you're not-"

"You're forgetting I was there," I mutter, feeling my throat constrict, "someone came here to Brown Wood that day and unleashed this."

His brows knit tightly when I grab his hand. He kneels again when I tug him, bringing his palm to my side

"A monster didn't scar me, Sandor, a man did."

I feel him tighten his grip on my left hip.

My emotions best me.

Sandor doesn't move an inch as I cry into my hands. Something horrendous eats away at him. His hand tenses, but he decides - fuck it - and pulls me towards him. He rubs my waist as I wipe my cheeks.

I bring my arms around his shoulders, calming myself down with the warmth of him. He sighs where I sob. He whispers, "I'm here, sweet wife. No one else will lay a finger on you."

My chest tightens at his words.

Then it dawns on me... I was meant to die that night. The monsters were for my family, and I survived. I'm the reason why this pestilence plagues Brown Wood.

I pull away from Sandor when I realize this.

He recoils with shock.

I stand and run outside, passing maester Yannick, as I make my way to a bush to vomit again.

I lie in bed feeling horrible after having so many people fuss over me. Sandor wound up snarling at the servants waiting outside my door, scaring them off to give me some privacy.

Maester Yannick pats my hand after he finishes examining me, "you're going to be fine. If I'm being blunt, you had quite a dramatic reaction."

I sink into the cushions as I watch the old man gather his things, readying to leave, "of course, some bodies are more naturally dramatic than others," he turns to Sandor, ho was standing by the door, "take your husband for example. He's not got a bone in his body made with dramatics."

I look at Sandor; his face is indignant and his crossed arms make him appear more tense.

"Of course, that can also be worrying," Yannick says as he walks towards him. He pats his shoulder, "our body's reactions are telling of its conditions, and yours it telling you it needs rest."

The Hound eyes him as he exits the room. Maester Yannick shoos the people who've come back to snoop on the situation.

Sandor promptly locks the door. I lean into my pillow and watch him walk over to me.

I feel my throat tighten as he sits down on the other side of the bed. My eyes water a bit as he looks me over. He mumbles incredibly softly, "are you alright, pretty squirrel?"

I clench my jaw and sink into the sheets, "no."

He sighs. He sounds uneasy, "should I get you anything?"

Before I can respond, Sandor snaps.

"Fuck that old cunt. Dramatic or not, you spewed out everything you ate in the bushes. You need something."

I feel my vision blur. I rapidly shake my head and blink away the tears, "I'm tired, s'all."

"You need to eat something."

I reach out to him, "hold me instead?"

Sandor freezes. He proceeds to remove his shoes and gets under the sheets. He lies back and pulls me into him.

I nestle my face into his chest.

He gives out a deep sigh. He slowly speaks my name.

I lift my face and catch the worry on his.

He eyes me and presses his lip together, "you... you don't think this could be..."

I watch him as his gaze wanders, as if looking for the words to say. His hand rubs down my back. He turns to me again, "... you know..."

I knit my brows, "because I was upset about the curse?"

"Mmm-- no-" he sniffles, "because you're... carrying..."

I look at him with confusion but then it slips into realization. I perk and sit up slightly. I shake my head and offer a smile, "ah. Well... it's not improbable."

He looks at me in expectation.

I turn to his shirt, eyeing the fabric with artificial interest. I absentmindedly feel the fabric with my finger, "maester Yannick has his suspensions but he told me not to worry about it."

He shifts to towards me. He rubs my shoulders, but I still do not look up at him. He asks, "are you worried about it?"

"I'm cursed, husband," I mutter. Tears drip onto his top, "of course I'm worried. It's no wonder I cannot keep a child."

His brows tighten. He calls out my name.

I refuse to look at him. A dam of tears threaten to burst if I do.

Sandor runs his fingers down my spine and sighs, "everything I ever touch goes to shit." He grabs my hip and pulls me close.

I turn to him and nestle my face into his chest.

He traps me in his arms, "but you... you turn my shit into gold."

I hold back my tears but the sobs come out anyway. I grip onto his collar for dear life. He tightens his hold on me. We remain like this until I've wet his shirt and forced myself to calm down. He holds me all throughout, the sound of his breathing lulls me.

"There were 5 of them," I mumble against him.

Sandor doesn't say a word.

"They killed every one of our servants, then my father... my poor younger brother and sister," I lick my lips, tasting the salt of my tears, "I only survived because I was not inside that day; my older brothers snuck me out to watch them ride."

I laugh at the memory of them fighting over my approval.

Sandor's heart clenches at the sound.

"Those five men were covered in blood when they found us. They told us what they did to Brown Wood, the curse they set, the lives they took to do it. They told us what they were going to do to my brothers... to me. My eldest brother managed to maim one of them before he was beaten into the ground. My other brother gave his life to put me on his horse," I push myself up and look at him, "one managed to dig his knife into me before the steed bolted away."

Sandor watches as I take his hand. I bite my lip to keep myself from sobbing.

He straightens up and wipes my face with his free palm. He rubs down to my shoulder, "your brother wanted you to live. They all would have wanted you to live a happy life."

I laugh through my sob, "they would not want Brown Wood to be cursed, none of them would."

"But it's not your fault," he speaks tenderly, "you had nothing to do with it."

"They chased after me," I muttered, "the monsters."

A line forms between his brows.

"They chased me and my brother's horse into the woods, and all I did was scream and beg the poor creature to keep running as I clung onto its neck. I lead those monsters into the forest. Those vile creatures are hurting the people here because I was meant to fall with my br-"

"Enough," he grabs my shoulders.

I make a pained sound, "don't you see?!"

He is taken aback when I fight him away, but he does not release me.

"I've cursed you too! You think I've given you gold, when I truth you've been thrown here to die!"

Sandor cups my face.

"I was never meant to have you," I grab his wrists, trying to yank him away, "I was not meant to have anyone."

I eventually give up trying to free myself from his touch. It's not like I actually wanted to be in the first place.

He swallows a thick lump in his throat. "Aye," he furrows his brows, "you were never meant to have me. I was sworn to a bastard king, destined to die for him with nothing else to live for.

"The day King's Landing was attacked from Blackwater Bay, I saw my life flash before my eyes. I saw my end in the flames," he squeezes my arms, "and I saw you... my poor lady wife, my meek and naïve little bride. I knew what they'd do to you, to you, your wench, and your lame dog if I died that night."

My heart hurts, and clenches, and twists at his soft voice. I notice the glint in his eyes, the water waiting to spill.

"Sandor..."

"You say you're my curse," he takes my hands and rubs my knuckles. He looks at me and tightens his grip. He shakes his head, knitting his brows deeply together, "you are my purpose."

My lips quiver. My breathing grows heavy.

"I will not have you harmed, by blade, by claw or curse," he leans forward and scoops me on to his lap. He seals me into a tight embrace, "let me handle this."

I suck in a breath.

"Let me keep you safe."

I sigh slowly and nod my head. I snuggle my face into his neck and mutter softly, "I trust you."

I wake up to an empty bed. I knit my brows at it and look out the window. It seems like I was early in the morning. I scratch my eyes. Or, wait... was it still night?

Gods, I am disoriented.

I reach out to Sandor's side, hand slapping on the vacant cushion, and sigh. 

I notice some candles in the room were lit. Maybe he woke up for a wee.

I close my eyes and try to go back to sleep.

I feel sick to my stomach.

I groan.

I peel my heavy eyes open, thinking this was going to be impossible if Sandor doesn't come back soon.

I watch the sky through the window. Long moments later, I hear the door open.

I turn to see Sandor walking in. I sit up when I notice him holding a tray.

He stops in his tracks, "... you're not supposed to be awake yet..."

"You left," I retort.

"I made sure not to make a sound."

"What is that?"

Sandor turns to his tray and walks over, "something to eat when you wake." He heads towards me and places the object down on the bedside table, "it's meant to be cool by the time you did."

I knit my brows as he sits on the edge of the bed. I glance at the bowl of porridge, feeling my heart warm and pinch at his concern. I reach out to him and he sandwiches my hand in both of his, "how are you feeling?"

"Tired," I mutter.

"Hungry?"

"Tired."

"You haven't eaten anything since you emptied your guts."

"I'm not hungry, husband."

"Because you've let your hunger pass," he says sternly, a line forming between his brows.

I press my lips tightly and pull my hand out of his grip. I slowly reach out to his cheek, "may I?"

Sandor hesitates but responds by pressing my palm on his scarred face. He is rigid against my touch. It seems like he won't let up. I release him from his misery by moving my touch to his chest. He immediately relaxes. I mutter, "I'll eat in a little while."

Sandor touches the hand on his chest, "you probably woke up because you're hungry."

I chuckle softly and shake my head, "I woke because you weren't there."

He grunts.

"It's cold," I add.

"I know what can warm you up."

My stomach flips when he leans forward. But then, he reaches out for a spoon and says, "porridge."

I watch as he brings a spoonful of porridge to his lips to blow at it. When he thinks it's cool enough, he brings it towards me.

I have to bite my lips to hold back my laugh but eventually bring myself to eat, for his sake. I lick my lips after and he looks at me expectantly. I smile, "it's delicious. Thank you."

Sandor shakes his head, "it's not delicious. You're just hungry."

He goes for another scoop.

I watch as he blows the spoonful, "did you make it?"

"Nay, the castle ghost did," he brings the spoon to my lips.

I give him a look.

"... I did."

I eat the porridge.

Sandor goes for another scoop but I stop him by grabbing his arm.

We stare at each other for a moment. I shift on the mattress and get on my knees. I push myself up, becoming slightly taller than him as I did. I crawl over.

He watches me, eyes raking up and down my form. 

He stiffens when I bring my leg on his lap and take a seat there. I rest my head on his shoulder and wrap my arms around him, "I told you, I'm not hungry."

"..."

"I'm not a little girl that need be spoon-fed." 

I hear him put the spoon down. He places his hands on my hips.

"You don't have to treat me this way."

"Foolish wife," he sigh, "you took care of me once."

"..."

He rubs my back.

I slowly pull away and look at him.

He rubs my sides, "more than once. Much more."

My lips part. My brows knit.

"I'm hardened. I have no instinct for tenderness, only instinct to survive," he lowers his head, "you will not survive if you don't eat."

I sigh, expression melting, "oh, puppy. One missed meal will not kill me."

He scowls.

I bite my lip and cling on to the fabric of his top, "I swear to you, I will eat in a little while."

He sighs heavily through his nostrils.

I pout, "can we just go back to sleep for now?"

Sandor takes his time to respond.

"Please, puppy-"

He flinches.

"I'm still so sleepy."

He sighs dramatically, "fine. As you wish, little girl."

I purse my lips, "I'm not a little girl."

"The don't be bratty," he quips, " or I will have you over my knee."

My eyes widen as he pushes me off. He stands and blows out the candles.

I grunt and whine when I wake. My heart was racing, as I've had a terrible nightmare. I was in the corner of a room, the scar on my hip was a wound bleeding out, and I was waiting for whatever was outside to finally come get me.

It eventually entered to do just that, slowly peeling the wooden door open with a horrible creek. A massive, molten creature scratched down the door and steps forward. My heart was in my mouth as it looked at me.

And then it lurched, and I was awake.

I was awake with a heavy weight on top of my chest. I throw whatever it was away from me, only realizing after that it was Sandor's arm.

I sit up with a gasp, and I wait for him to curse at me for rattling him. He doesn't. He doesn't curse. He doesn't wake up.

I sigh with guilt. I fix his arm, rubbing it to make up for what I did. He snores and my eyes crinkle at it.

Oh, to sleep like a hound.

I look at the window and see the sun glistening upon the outside. I turn to my the porridge Sandor had left on the table and smile. I decide to get up and head to the bathroom before eating it.

I freshen up and relieve myself. My face falls when I find red in my skirts. For a moment, I deny it. I stare and touch it, disgusted by the very real wetness that meets my fingers. I sigh and, suddenly feel tears flood my eyes. Disappointment and sadness clogs my chest. 

By the time, I change my garments and check the bed for any stains, finding none, I was a sobbing mess.

I sit beside Sandor, heaving as I look at his sleeping form. I take the bowl of porridge and eat it. It was barely warm at this point. I leave not a drop.

I could not keep myself inside the bedroom, because all there was for me here was to cry, and I didn't want to wake my husband.

I take my tray of empty porridge and head to the kitchen. Many of the servants were already awake and working at this point, and each of the ones who greeted me had their smiles faltering at sight of my face.

I rub my tear stained cheeks.

I think I want strawberry pie.

It was pathetic that I wasn't distracted by work, that the tears kept coming as I measured, and mixed, and poured, and picked ingredients to make my favorite dessert. Not the smell nor the taste of this labour, which was meant be done with love, took away from this hopelessness in my belly, the hollowness of it all.

And as concerned as Lucy, as Yannick, as Margaret, as Arron, as Polly, as anyone who saw me was, I told them only that I needed to make this pie, and that they leave me be.

I finished two by the time Sandor woke up.

I look up at him from across the room; he had called out my name. He looked small... and scared from there. I look back down at my bowl and continue to mix the strawberries for the third pie I'm making.

I feel him walk towards me. I feel him come to my side. I do not anticipate whatever he means to do. I grab my pie tin and pour the contents in.

Sandor watches. He watches me place the top layer of dough on my pie and fashion its crust.

He calls my name again. I ignore him in lieu of completing my task.

Just as I finished, Sandor takes the pie and moves it away. He grunts, "enough fucking pie."

Finally, I look up at him. He looks so... fiercely concerned, so distressed and worried. It makes me feel sick.

"What's wrong?" he whispers.

The question... spurs me. What's wrong?

"I don't fucking know," I hiss, through tears.

Everything is wrong.

Sandor is visibly shocked by my response. This may well be the first time he's ever seen me act and speak like this.

"Do not speak to me. I don't want to speak with you," I snap and walk off. My chest hurts as I do so. My legs take me outside to the gardens, in front of Daisy's grave.

I am wrong.

It seems at this point, I no longer have any tears to cry. I sob, but no tears come out. My emotions crumple me down on the soil. I sit there in dismay. The fabric on my knees are stained brown.

I hear paws pattering. Feet are running towards me. Warm fur rubs against me. There are no barks, only wet noses and low whines.

I am irritated at first, but then Sage forces his way into my lap, and suddenly, it's all gone.

I curl my legs together. The daisies on Daisy's grave were plenty now. I find myself talking to her about the three puppies in my arms. I tell her how much she would have loved them. I tell her how sorry I am for bringing her to a place where she wasn't safe.

Lilac spots something behind me and begins to bark. Judging by the wag of her tail, I knew exactly what she saw.

I turn over my shoulder and see Sandor, nervous and hesitant.

I release the puppies from my arms and two trot over to Sandor; Rose stays by my side.

"Shall I leave?" Sandor asks.

I stare at him for a moment, feeling to scared to tell him no, to ask him of anything at this moment, so I just shake my head.

He walks over to me. The pups follow and run back into my lap. Sandor sits on the ground beside me.

We sit there in silence. I feel my husband look at me, examine me, unsure of his next more. He decides to simply pet the pups and be there. I am grateful for it.

"I'm sorry," I eventually mutter, "I was horrid."

"... honestly," he mutters, "it made me think this was probably what I'm like with you."

I look at the daisies in front of me. I look at the gravestone for my dog. I look at my husband, who was stroking Rose's dark fur. I tell him, "you're not like this."

His brow darts up, "aye," he frowns, " 'm far worse."

I shake my head, "... the world has been cruel to you, my love."

Sandor's brows knit tightly, "aye, and to you." His hand moves to mine. My breathing strains when he squeezes it, "I kill people that piss me off... you bake pies."

He looks at the daisies, "I don't know what's upset you, but," he looks back at me, "if you want to bake some more... I can help."

I give him a soft smile. I shake my head and mumble, "enough fucking pies."

He sigh, "I'm sorry I-"

"It's alright. I'm tired."

He sighs again.

"... I suppose it's a good time as any to tell you..."

"..."

I drop my head on his shoulder in defeat, "I'm not with child."

I feel him look down at me.

".. there was blood on my skirt when I woke," I look up at him and press my lips into a line, "I think it's just how... it'll always be... no matter what we do... what I do..."

Sandor's brows furrow. He turns and reaches for my face. When he swipes his thumb on my cheek, my eyes water.

I chew my lip and dryly chuckle, lips quivering as I did so, "do you still want me?"

His expression tightens. He shakes it head, as if he was just struck, and tightens his hold on me, "I've never wanted anything so badly."

"... Sandor... I'm curs-"

"Then I pray I'll be fucking cursed forever."

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairing: daryl dixon x plus size wife!reader

― era: season 11

― summary: you're a big fan of the commonwealth's military uniform on your husband but he isn't so sure.

― warnings: unprotected sex, intimate sex, daryl's insecure about how he looks but it's okay, oral sex (r. receiving), missionary, teasing, and praising kink.

― wc: 1293

⋆ a/n: well, hello everyone, and happy pride month!! i'm back (not officially), and of course i'm posting daryl because am i really me if i didn't? also, i do admit i babygirlified daryl in this fic, like- i couldn't help myself, but anyways, enjoy and let me know what you think!

masterlist | AO3

“I don’t understand why you do that.” You said from your shared bed.

“Do what?” Daryl asked you as he stood in front of the full-length mirror. He was essentially checking him out, but with a lot more apprehension for himself than the usual.

“Nit-pick every part about you until there’s nothing left.”

“’Cause I look stupid.” You knew he meant to play it off as a scoff, maybe even a dig at the bulky plastic uniform, but you know that he could be placed in a potato sack and still be convinced that he’s the reason why the sack doesn’t look good.

With a sigh, you got up from the bed, coming to stand behind him.

“Well,” You breathed out as you set your hands on his shoulders. “You want to know what I think?” You asked him softly. He just grunted, giving you a half-hearted shrug, only one of his shoulders moving up as he cast his gaze to the floor. You took that grunt as a means to continue, your hands sliding down to his biceps and giving and them a firm squeeze - the firmest squeeze that you could seeing as though the armor got in your way.

“I think that you look sexy.” Your touch then traveled down to his forearms, resting there for a moment before reaching around his waist, resting your hands on his chest plate. “And strong.” You continued. Your arms snaked back behind him, placing themselves on his pert ass, which was is outlined by the posterior coverup. “But also, it makes your ass look good.” You finished with a smile when you heard his chuckle.

You gripped his hips and softly turned him around, cupping the scruff of his cheeks. His eyes closed at the gentle show of affection.

“You look handsome all the time, okay? So, I don’t want you worrying about some stupid uniform; and besides, I should be worried about other women coming after you once they see you in this.” He let out a sound that was a mix between a scoff and a snort, “Ya ain’t gotta worry about that.” He reassured you. “I know.” You said with a smile.

Your eyes fell on his lips before you leaned up to capture them softly.

He reciprocated your affections, his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you as close to his body as he could despite the uniform that prevented him from feeling your ample, plush form against his.

“Need’ta get this stupid shit off me.” He grumbled against your mouth. You giggled, a smile spreading on your face as you both frantically worked, and managed, to get his top and pants off; now, all he was left in was his black long-sleeved shirt and his underwear.

“Well, don’t you look cute.” You teased. “Ain’t cute.” He growled, pulling you towards him so he could feel you now. “Sure, you aren’t.” You joked sarcastically before intertwining your fingers into his hair and pressing your lips together. He grunted into your mouth at the added pressure to his scalp, but he didn’t complain, slowly walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed.

He gently set you down, motioning you to move up on the bed so that your head was now propped up on the pillows.

He settled himself between your thighs, working your underwear down your legs.

“Tonight is supposed to be about you, Dar.” You sighed as you felt his breathing against your damp labia. “I know, but this is what I wanna do.” He said, throwing your thick legs over his as equally thick shoulders. “Then I suppose I shouldn’t stop you.” You gasped out as he ran his tongue through your folds, the muscle caressing your clit.

He ate you out like a man starved, his tongue dipping in and out of your hole before trailing back up to suck your clit into his mouth, lightly nibbling on it. Your legs twitched around his head, your back arching and your nails scratching at his scalp. He groaned loudly, the vibration of his timbre voice sending an almost electric like current to shoot up your spine; your breathing turning labored as he did. His fervent licks coaxed you closer to your orgasm, your thighs pressing against his ears like warmed earmuffs.

You tasted divine and he just couldn’t stop. With the stress of being recruited and trained, plus having to deal with assholes - mostly Sebastian - he needed this, needed to be able to get lost for just a few moments, and he was grateful that you were his vice, a sea to get lost in.

“Daryl! ‘m gonna- ‘m gonna cum, please.” You cried out. Though your voice was muffled, he could feel it in the way you squeezed around him. As you neared your high, he focused solely on your clit, leisurely flicking and sucking until you shook, your whine that almost sounded like a squeal broke the air.

He pulled away from you once your legs grew weak, your limbs falling open so he could wiggle his way up your chest to deliver you a burning kiss. You could taste yourself on him as you desperately tried to keep up with the rigorous pace that his mouth moved in.

“You fine to keep goin’?” He mumbled. You nodded, laying your head back in bliss so he could deliver heated nibbles and bites to the column of your throat. “Yeah.” You swallowed.

He looked into your eyes one more time before taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together, the other reached down to align himself to your entrance before allowing himself to push into you.

You drew your bottom lip into your mouth, shutting your eyes and squeezing Daryl’s hand as you got used to him. It wasn’t long before he picked up his pace, his thrusts slow and deep. You could feel him, feel all of him as he took large inhales of air, selfishly breathing you in as he groaned.

“Ya feel so good.” He grunted as he pulled out just to slam his hips back into you. Your head swam at the praise, a meek whimper pushing past your lips. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks in their wake. Daryl always enjoyed the extra added pain, his body stuttering at the scratches.

“Need’ta feel ya squeeze me.” He heaved. He pressed his body further onto yours, as if he was trying to mold you two together. You fed into his demand, contracting around him that sent his body jolting upward. “God damn girl.” He cursed.

“Faster, D. I need it.” You whined, arching your back to the best of your abilities. “I got you.” He assured you, picking up his pace, the pleasure that shot up your spine scrambling your brain.

His cock constantly brushed up against that spongy spot hidden deep within you.

With the way his hips were stuttering, you could tell he was close.

“Cum in me.” You gasped. Normally, Daryl would choose to take the cautious route, but tonight, your loving words and reassurance had gotten him so pent up that he couldn’t help but agree, marking you as his as he let go inside of you with a deep, earth-shattering combination between a moan and a groan.

You worked him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, running your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you as he shook in your arms.

“You okay?” You asked with a shit-eating grin. He huffed a chuckle. “Yeah, ‘m alright.” He said from the crook of your neck. “Fuckin’ exhausted though.” He grunted as he rolled off of you.

“Oh, how I love my old man.” You teased, cuddling up to his side.

“Shuddup.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 5: Scared of a Little Lightning

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: With the threat of Bolt rising, so do tensions within the base.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.3k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, supervillains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, and also with fists, they fight in this one okay, swearing, hella tension and anger issues, arguing, angry Namjoon (yes that is a warning). it's just a tense chapter😅

a/n: oH I am EXCITED for this chapter!!! It's a juicy one if I say so myself😌I am begging you to come chat with me about it, things are heating up!! Be it an ask, comments, tags, hearing from you guys about this series is an absolute joy so far and it's making me giddy posting each week wondering what you guys will think👀thank you so much, that's a great feeling! I hope you enjoy reading the chapter as much as I did writing it!💜

Whatever Jungkook thought of you staying, you couldn’t care less.

While he glared, you ignored him and instead enjoyed the new additions to your routine. In fact, though you wouldn’t admit it, it gave you a bit of pleasure to know he was gritting his teeth as you continued as part of their lives.

However, he still had his chance to make your life a misery. He had taken to actively antagonising you rather than straight-up ignoring you as he had previously in training.

That was what it felt like, at least, when he was yelling “faster!” into your ear as you fired bolts as rapidly as you could muster. It was never good enough for him.

It only got worse when he took to flinging the targets around your training space with a well-aimed jet of gold. That kind of precision and strength was something you could barely hope to achieve with your powers. Even trying to hit the targets in the air was beyond you, let alone being able to actually throw one, as Jungkook did with such ease.

Though in some ways it was refreshing to have a different training routine, in most other respects it was anything but.

Anyone else could be forgiven for thinking he was simply trying to push you now that you were in line to join their team, but you knew better. The smirks that occupied his face when you failed gave it away. You tried desperately not to give him that satisfaction, but eventually you always lost out to exhaustion, leaving him triumphant.

On the contrary, physical training which you now had to take part in, was welcome relief.

Usually Hoseok was the one training with you, which you were ecstatic about. Of course, he was mainly needed to show you the ropes in the beginning, and once you understood how to use all the gym equipment, you could more or less do it yourself. But he was in there anyway a lot of the time, and you were more than happy with the way he would chat away as you worked out side by side. It felt nice to spend time with someone who actually wanted you there – who would help, or play stupid games with you, or drag you into doing pairs exercises that would never go right, normally ending with you in a hysterical tangle on the floor.

His powers being what they were, however, it was a little discouraging sometimes. You would be red-faced and ready to give up while he still had enough breath in him to gush enthusiastically about the latest band that took his interest, all while doing pull-ups.

But then Yoongi would appear (out of nowhere, as always) and grumble along with you, making fun of his ‘over-active’ brother while Hope laughed loudly.

Spending even more time in the training areas made you feel like this place was really alive. It was completely different to anywhere you had lived before, solely because you weren’t alone.

Jin had taken you directly to your old place the day after you had accepted Namjoon’s offer. It had hardly crossed your mind, so you were surprised to see it as you had left it. Apparently Kuyang had been covering the rent for you.

It must not have been much of a strain for him, you thought, standing in the doorway of your place and thinking of his laboratory in a skyscraper. The two hole-in-the-wall rooms that made up your apartment were a far cry from anywhere in the centre of town. You were almost embarrassed for Jin to follow you in there, but then he was pushing past to drop several empty boxes on the worn carpet and apologising that your new room wouldn’t be so big.

“That’s hardly the same thing,” you snorted, taking the first box through to your bedroom, “have you seen your kitchen?”

Looking over to your sorry excuse for a kitchen, Jin couldn’t argue. He half-grimaced.

“Who really needs an oven in this day and age anyway?” he tried.

Rolling your eyes with a snort, you pulled open your wardrobe and set to packing.

Halfway through, several indistinguishable shouts bled through the ceiling. What startled you was that you almost didn’t notice it, used to it as you had been.

Jin had stopped, and stared at you in alarm, but you just chuckled and told him that was how it was, living on top of other families.

In the end, you didn’t use all of the boxes. You looked around, just in case, for something you would never miss. It hadn’t taken much to empty the place of all trace of you, though you left the fridge well alone, not daring to discover the state of what you had left.

You dropped your keys on the table and left the silence behind.

Back home, there was always sound, activity. During your water breaks or after training, you would see the others training too. It felt like you were all in it together. Even with the knowledge that you could barely compare to the skill the boys had with their respective powers, you reminded yourself that they wanted you on the team.

Well, most of them did.

But you would keep working and improving. You would get there.

Jimin finally returned to training again too, after a few days where he hardly left V’s side. Seeing his boyfriend so hurt had certainly brought out Jimin’s protective side, even more than normal. It was honestly quite endearing – that was until you had passed Jimin in the training room, hurling his weights through the air with such ferocity you were surprised it didn’t dent the walls.

Hurrying past, you had decided to leave him to it. After so long being strong for his boyfriend, he certainly needed that.

The pink glow of his eyes shouldn’t be such an intimidating sight, but you knew you didn’t want to get in the way of him.

With Jimin downstairs, you found V in the living room. He had been steadily recovering, quicker than someone without powers would have done, but still you knew he had been instructed to take it easy.

A quick shower later, you were less out of breath, but still weary from a day of hard work.

Next time you returned, V was in the kitchen. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but you didn’t want him to be up for too long. Ignoring your desire to sink into the nearest chair, you walked over.

“Need help with anything?”

V didn’t look around at you, but shook his head as he reached up to a cupboard.

Not wanting to push, you slid into a chair at the counter. You were unable to resist resting your head on one hand, but you fought to keep your eyes open so you could check on V.

Somewhere along the way, you failed at your intention. A new set of footsteps entering the space disturbed you as you had been dozing lightly, but the moment you caught yourself, your eyes were flying open.

With your tired state, you couldn’t even bring yourself to shoot a glare at Jungkook, who was walking up to the counter. You only gathered the energy to avoid his eyes entirely.

Jungkook appeared to have the same idea, walking past without acknowledging you. But as he drew level with V, the older boy turned away and crossed to the counter where you sat.

Lifting your head from your hand, you blinked as V walked right up to you. The next moment, he was pushing a steaming mug of tea right under your nose.

Opening your mouth, your tired brain couldn’t formulate words, but conjured a similar image from when you had made him tea the first time you spoke. You still regretted accidentally setting him off then, unintentionally letting your powers go.

Perhaps you were forgiven?

“Thank you,” you spoke quietly, meeting V’s eyes. You couldn’t decipher his expression, but he was watching you, and smiled lightly when you replied.

As he turned and walked back over to the sofa, your eyes landed on Jungkook, who still stood across from you. For a long moment, he held your gaze with a poker face. Then his eyes fell to the mug cradled between your hands, a frown darting across his expression.

Swallowing, you waited for whatever venomous comment he had prepared for you, to warn you away from V. Even after you had helped treat V’s wound, Jungkook had been opposed to you being near his injured brother.

He turned away without a word.

A crash echoed through the empty rooms.

Staring as the sparks jittered across the surface of the battered target, you dropped your arms to your sides. The training area was deserted aside from you, and you waited until you could no longer hear the crash faintly ricocheting from the walls.

Eyes still trained on the target, you panted, chest heaving.

Though you were training alone today, you could practically hear Jungkook telling you not to give in. Who knew all those insults would become motivational?

Whether it was motivation or the fear of falling behind, it succeeded.

Exhausted as you were from your training, you decided to make the most of your unsupervised session and try one more thing. Locking your trembling arm straight ahead, you took a breath and let your powers fill you up until that familiar blue burst from your palms.

But instead of aiming short bursts at the various different targets positioned around the space, you gritted your teeth and held it, lightning spilling in a continuous blue bolt towards the central target.

You had no idea how to do this, but it had always impressed you when Jungkook could lift things with his powers. All you had been taught to do was shoot. Still, you took a breath when you felt confident that your power was flowing strongly, focussing on the metal disc.

The way the sparks ensnared the target gave you assurance as you slowly raised your arm.

You felt a resistance you had never felt before as the electricity lifted, tugging at the target. It felt that you were connected to it somehow.

Tensing, you focussed intently, loading more power into the bolts already shooting through the air. Maintaining the motion of your arm, you gaped as you saw the circular metal raise along with the blue power dragging it.

You had done it! You were lifting it, it was moving-

Like a switch had been flipped, the flow of power cut off, the bright blue that dominated the space fading. The moment your powers retreated, you found yourself gasping, a wave of fatigue near enough sweeping you away.

Your knees hit the floor as the same time as the target. Wincing at the harsh metal clattering loudly on the floor, you screwed your eyes shut for a moment. Your chest continued to heave, and you noticed the sheen of sweat that had broken onto your forehead.

But once your breathing steadied again, you laughed.

The next moment, you let out a loud whoop, flopping flat onto the floor.

You had managed something new! Laughter continued to shake you as you caught your breath on the floor. Jungkook didn’t have to teach you everything – it seemed you could manage to strive forwards by yourself, even if you weren’t good enough in his eyes.

It took you a while to get up. Not even the thought of Jungkook’s nagging could have motivated you to do another iota of training.

About all you could manage was to drag yourself upstairs for food, but the smile never left your face.

Lunch was a simple sandwich. Already thinking forward to your session in the gym this afternoon, you couldn’t be bothered to make anything more demanding.

You still made two plates, however, leaving the other out for whenever V was hungry. Today the others had gone out, but with him still healing, he couldn’t go with them like normal.

You had heard Jin scolding him to make him stay, though; it seemed he felt well enough already to want to go out again.

This time, you didn’t particularly mind their absence. There was no sense of secrecy, no need to for you to turn on the news while you wondered what they were up to. As the soon-to-be newest addition to the team, you had been present to hear all the details.

Of course, given the way things went last time they returned from a job, there was an undeniable edge of nerves.

But it was an easy mission. That was what they had said, and what you kept reminding yourself.

They were concerned that Bolt had been showing interest in a lab on the western edge of the city, and wanted to protect it. Yoongi and Hope had been watching it for a while Jin and Namjoon did some digging around Bolt, and whatever his intentions may be. The latter seemed to have found frustratingly little, but didn’t let the mystery of Bolt stop them from acting.

The whole group was focussed on keeping the lab safe. Since the developer was one of their allies, they had all the details they needed to be one step ahead if Bolt should attack, which they highly expected.

Although you had kept your mouth shut at the meeting, not wanting to cause problems by irritating Jungkook when the team needed him, you had enjoyed the experience. For once, you didn’t feel particularly out of your depth. Having been Kuyang’s secretary for a while, you were well used to looking at plans such as the one of this lab, which you had pretty much memorised. The fighting and the powers, you were still working on. But at least you could understand the logistical side of their job.

After lunch, you lounged in the empty living space for perhaps a little too long. But with no one around to judge you, you let your tired limbs rest for a bit.

When you eventually made it off the sofa, you passed V in the hall. You noticed the small black receiver clutched in his hand; the boys had decided that keeping him in the loop while they were out on the mission would ease his nerves a bit.

“Any news?” you asked him, nodding at it.

V turned his dark eyes on you, then glanced at the receiver before he sighed.

He shook his head.

You had to admit you shared his disappointment, but you forced a smile to your face nonetheless.

“Well, no news is good news, right?”

Your smile seemed to be for nothing, as his eyes never lifted high enough to look at your face. Instead he gave a noncommittal shrug.

“I, uh, made you a sandwich,” you told him, “make sure to eat, and don’t worry too much, yeah?”

Walking down to the training rooms again, you felt the sadly familiar desire to do more creeping in. You never would have thought that after gaining the ability to shoot lightning, you could ever feel so powerless.

Nothing would happen to them.

You had seen their plan, it was so detailed.

There was no way Bolt would be able to outsmart them.

As you started training, these thoughts revolved around your mind in time with your steps on the treadmill. By the time you were using the machines, gritting your teeth as you pushed the weights with all your might, you weren’t sure if your mantras were helping.

They would come back…

Reaching the peak of a sit-up, you let out a groan.

There were six of them out there, Bolt was outnumbered…

Were you certain? Or were you repeating these thoughts just to convince yourself?

Finishing your set, you slumped back to the floor and stared up at the plain ceiling. This space was tucked in the corner of the gym, and you felt sheltered by the machines that blocked you from view, even though you were alone.

Breathing deeply, you brought a hand up to massage your brow. As you tried to ease the pressure, you closed your eyes.

In the darkness behind your eyelids, a light seemed to bloom. Blue, all too familiar, dancing over a face you had seen just once in the flesh but would never forget. A bright flash had your eyes flying open again, heart hammering as it expected the drop from who knows how many floors up-

Your heavy breathing fell alone in the silence.

Swallowing back the memories of Bolt, you tried to push back the fear that was curling tighter around your stomach at the thought of your friends out there with him.

You had just pushed yourself gently to sit when a sharp clang sounded, along with a muffled yell, making your head whip around to its source.

One positive thing was that you didn’t have to worry about the boys being out any more. But there were new concerns on your mind as you saw Jungkook storming into the gym. A muscle in his jaw popped as he ripped his jacket off forcefully, casting it to the floor as he stalked to one of the machines.

You watched him with wide eyes, stunned by his entrance. He hadn’t seen you yet.

His whole body seemed fraught with tension as he stood, back facing you, eyeing a machine. Fists clenched at his side, his shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breathing.

Just when you thought he was going to stand still all day, he aimed a harsh kick at the base of the machine, another clang ringing through the space.

That startled you into action, springing to your feet. While you walked between machines back to the centre of the room, he had grasped the bars and started pushing them, grunting as the weights lifted and fell, clashing against the others.

Stopping a few paces away, you stayed silent for a moment. The frustration emanating from him, the intimidating muscles revealed by his vest, all made you wary of him.

Pulling yourself together, you took a breath. Why should you let him scare you?

“Jungkook.”

He froze. His arms were together in front of him, the machine’s weights hovering as he held them there.

With a huff of air, he dropped his head between his shoulders. Slowly, he turned his head towards you slightly.

“What happened?” you asked, refusing to be deterred by his challenging sideye, “is everyone okay?”

Biting at the inside of his cheek, he turned his glare away from you, aiming it instead at the floor. When he spoke, his voice was low and deadly, restrained as if he would burst if he didn’t control his tone.

“We fucking lost half the place.”

“But everyone’s back? Then it’s okay-”

Metal clanging loudly together made you jolt, unable to help yourself from taking a step back when Jungkook let the weights drop and strode across the space between you.

“We should have had the upper hand! We did everything we planned, but Bolt still…” his nostrils flared as he took a breath, “we had to blow half of it up, just so he wouldn’t get to it.”

Sighing heavily, he turned away from you, shoving a hand through his hair.

Frowning slightly, you watched the frustrated man. Of course you were glad everyone was safe, but the fact they had lost the lab felt like a blow, even to you.

“How…?” you spoke quietly, but it only seemed to rile him up.

Whirling back to face you, his eyes blazed.

“He’s too strong. We let him get too far already. If you think you’re gonna help us at all out there, you’re wrong.” He stepped slowly towards you as he spat his words, “we can’t do enough against him, you’ll only slow us down.”

He stopped, glaring down at you now you were practically nose to nose. Your own anger bubbled within you – why did he bring you into this? His lashing out at you was uncalled for.

“I’m joining you guys because Namjoon wants my help,” you shot back, “or do you not trust him? I’ll be ready, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing, poisonous stare intensifying, but you refused to back away. Scowling, his mouth opened to retort-

“Hey! Y/N?”

Jungkook’s mouth snapped closed, the same moment you turned your back on him to find Jin and Yoongi standing in the doorway.

Stepping into the gym, Jin looked past you to Jungkook, fixing him with a stare.

“Time to back off, Kook.”

At first, you were pleased to have someone else see how irrational Jungkook was acting towards you. But then Jin turned to you.

“I think you ought to go upstairs.”

Giving you a tight smile, Jin moved past you towards Jungkook, leaving you stunned.

“Just let him cool off.”

Slightly jumpy, you looked around to find Yoongi right beside you. Raising an eyebrow, he waited for you to come away.

Sighing, but biting your tongue, you set off. Yoongi fell into step beside you as you left. With one last look back, you saw Jin leaning against the machine where Jungkook had now resumed his rage workout, talking too low for you to hear.

As you emerged into the main training space, Hope was just coming from the stairs. His pace was rapid, but slowed when he saw you, seeming to deflate.

“Everything alright?” he jogged up to you and took a place on your other side.

“I just don’t get what his problem is,” you confessed, irritation bleeding into your words. “He turns everything on me somehow.”

The boys either side of you shared a glance.

“He’s just frustrated, but he’ll come around. This thing with Bolt is a bit more serious than we anticipated,” Yoongi explained.

Taking a moment to process his words, you swallowed back the continuing anger you felt towards Jungkook. You knew why he was upset, it just didn’t make it any easier to take.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you cursed, shaking your head, “is everyone okay? I wasn’t even thinking about all that after Jungkook…”

“Yeah,” Hoseok nodded, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “We’ll figure it out. Just because today didn’t go so well, doesn’t mean we can’t win next time.”

“But how was your training?” Yoongi moved on, “I’m surprised you made it to the gym without Hobi to bully you-”

“Hey!” Hobi exclaimed, “Y/N’s a great student. She’s working hard. You’ll be able to join us soon at this rate.”

He directed this last at you, nudging you with his elbow. But his bright smile no longer struck the same confidence in you. Instead, you felt Jungkook’s words take root inside you.

“I just hope I can be useful…” you muttered.

“You have nothing to worry about.”

It may well have been the first time Hoseok didn’t manage to alleviate you worries, even slightly. When you got upstairs, it was to find Namjoon had disappeared to his office already, Jimin clearly faking a smile for V and near silence as Jin and Jungkook remained downstairs.

Even Hobi, trying to bring your mind away from Jungkook, had a downtrodden slope to his shoulders.

That night, you did nothing but contribute to the despondent quiet in the house.

These men had so much more experience than you did, and yet they were unable to save the lab from Bolt’s clutches. How were you going to help them?

But you knew one thing for sure: you had to.

It was with renewed determination that you headed down to train the next morning.

You arrived a little before Jungkook, depositing a towel and water bottle by the wall as he entered behind you.

“Still here?” he asked dryly, crossing the space to lean against the wall.

Straightening up, you rolled your eyes.

“What does it look like?”

“Looks like you’re naïve enough to think you’re going to be any help.”

Gritting your teeth at his retort, you restrained yourself from insulting him in return.

“Let’s just start training, shall we?” you bit out.

Clearly some of your attitude had bled through, however, because Jungkook pushed off the wall and marched towards you. His dark eyebrows drew together.

“What for?” he spat, “you can barely handle the training room, what makes you think you’ll be any good out there-”

“That’s what training is for,” you countered, unable to help your voice rising.

“I have more important things to focus on than YOU!” his voice raised in return, “you’ll never be ready.”

And with that, he shook his head, starting to walk away from you. For a second, you could only gape in outrage at his back as he stormed away. But he only made it a few paces before you recovered yourself, stepping forwards.

“I am ready!”

Your hands balled at your sides as he froze in place. You remembered the power that ran through them, your success in training yesterday. Jungkook was done underestimating you.

He spun to face you.

“Prove it.”

Not a second after his words, a slice of gold cut through the air, straight towards you.

Ducking out of the way, you whirled around again to find Jungkook advancing towards you, lopsided smirk on his face and gold light whirling in his irises. This time, you reacted when he raised an arm, blue racing to meet his gold in the air and colliding in a shower of sparks.

Feeling the thrum of electricity in your veins, you felt stronger. You stepped forwards, meeting his eyes in challenge. He thought you were too weak? That you would give up?

Jungkook threw his arm to the side, severing the beam of light that connected you, but instantly fired another bolt which you leapt aside from. The next moment, you recoiled, intercepted by a second streak of lightning cutting through your path.

You were driven back into the path of one more blast as it shot through the air, forcing you to fling yourself to the ground as sparks ripped overhead.

“Please,” Jungkook let out a scoff, “I could beat you with my hands behind my back.”

You had already jumped to your feet, lifting your palms.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Blue erupted towards him then, his own trick used against him as two beams of light penned him in, one either side.

Quirking an eyebrow, Jungkook aimed his palm to the ground, to your surprise. The next moment saw him pushing off the ground, boosted by a jet of gold as he vaulted over your attack. Reacting quickly, you shot towards him again as he was still a blur in the air.

Gold blazed to meet it, an explosion of embers as they collided. You felt Jungkook throw the attack off, sending you stumbling as your lightning collided with a resounding clash against a pile of metal targets that were stacked by the wall.

To your satisfaction, though, the clearing sparks revealed the man staggering up from the floor. It seemed you weren’t so incapable as he thought.

“Still think I’m not ready?” you called, laughter lining your voice.

Jungkook said nothing, drawing himself to his full height and looking around.

Gold light streaked towards the side of the room then, sending a shape flying towards you.

You ducked, the target clanging against the wall behind you. But more were already coming your way, Jungkook rapidly firing more gold through the air.

Undeterred, you didn’t hesitate to fire back, knocking the targets from the air with well-aimed blows of your own. The room filled with flashes of light, blue against gold, fuelled by the two of you throwing everything you had.

But your powers began to slip, reluctant to work so quickly. You could feel yourself tiring, and it was a matter of seconds before you missed, too sluggish to catch one target that shot your way.

It caught your arm, hard, pulling you off balance. You stumbled, one knee hitting the floor as you steadied yourself. Instinctively, the other arm covered your head, waiting for more blows.

But nothing came.

Panting hard, you looked around.

Jungkook stood tall opposite you, the epitome of power as strength filled his form and flowed from his fingertips. His eyes shone with an identical light. Two more targets were suspended in the air by sustained gold beams. He kept them hovering there. Taunting you.

“Like I said,” he growled, “not ready. And if I can do this, it means Bolt can.”

Face burning in humiliation, you pushed yourself to stand.

“What are you so scared of?” you spat, “if you’re so powerful, how come you’re afraid of one man?”

“Don’t you dare-” he began, but you cut him off.

“No!” you yelled over him, “you’re the weak one! You just can’t admit you need me out there because you’re scared of a little lightning.”

In the blink of an eye, the targets dropped from the air, clashing deafeningly against the ground as Jungkook chose to charge at you himself. His teeth were bared as he ran forwards, grabbing you and sending the both of you to the floor.

Jungkook was strong, to say the least. You couldn’t escape his weight that pinned you down, no matter if you thrashed.

His face was so close to you, breathing almost as heavily as you. As you met his blazing eyes, you saw the gold glow fading, darkness taking over.

Gritting your teeth, you pushed back at him, letting your power flow from your hands. Using powers had seemingly slipped his mind; he didn’t see your attack coming, and you successfully sent him reeling, your blow of lightning throwing him off you.

But he found his feet at the same time you did, and scrambled towards you again.

A fist flew towards you, and you countered it with a blast of blue.

Instead of retaliating again, he stumbled back. A smirk crept over your face. Something had got to him; you had riled him up.

“Something wrong?” you asked innocently.

Big mistake.

Maybe Jungkook hadn’t been thrown. Maybe he had just been recharging.

Because now he was advancing again, and his fists were surrounded by gold sparks, that same gold glowering from his eyes once more. You could only match his power for so long. You weren’t as fast as him, and every blow you deflected only made way for another to follow the next instant.

Stumbling backwards, away from him, the back of your leg collided with a bench, and you fell back, heart hammering in panic.

You never met the ground. A fist found your shirt and you were being slammed against the wall instead.

Feet flailing, you called on the last embers of your powers to push back, but Jungkook captured your hand with his free one. He pinned it against the wall, where your sparks danced together in an impossible wrestle.

Meanwhile, his other hand which forced you against the wall didn’t let up, digging more harshly into your throat as you faltered.

Gasping and struggling fruitlessly against him, you stared into the molten gold of his eyes as he pressed his face closer to you.

“You know nothing,” he hissed, “you’ll never be ready-”

“JUNGKOOK!”

A cacophony of voices suddenly swelled, joined by hurried footsteps.

The pressure on your throat was gone then, and you met the ground at last. But your feet couldn’t hold you up, and you crashed to the ground choking on the air that was finally forcing its way to your lungs.

Blinking, you looked up. The first thing you saw was pink, Jimin coming into focus beside you. Concern filled his eyes as your gasping continued, a hand falling onto your shoulder.

But you avoided his eyes in favour of finding what had become of Jungkook.

A few paces away, more of the boys were huddled, still jostling as Jungkook tried to escape. Hoseok was behind him, unrelenting grip on the younger’s arms stopping him from going anywhere. Even though you both knew Hope was the strongest of you all, that wasn’t stopping Jungkook from trying. Gold still bounced off the walls, blinding flashes shooting between, but missing, the members who barely seemed phased by his outbursts.

You couldn’t get a good glimpse of your rival though. He was eclipsed by Jin, who was trying to steady him by the shoulders, speaking quickly and sternly to the incensed man.

On his other side, Yoongi had a hand on his chest, pushing him back and further away from you.

Just then, another set of footsteps, not frantic like the others, made you look around. And even though his gaze travelled first to Jungkook, you couldn’t help but feel your veins freeze with dread.

Namjoon looked furious.

He marched in, V scurrying at his heels. At the sight of his leader, Jungkook seemed to finally ease up a bit, the scuffle quietening down.

A silence seemed to settle over the room, Jungkook’s last struggles dying away as Namjoon cast his eyes around everyone. A faint red haze flitted across his eyes and the lights in the room flickered perilously.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

It was the only time you had felt something close to solidarity with Jungkook. When you looked at each other, you could tell he gulped just like you.

“I thought this was going well,” he shook his head slightly. Your heart sank.

Raising his eyes to meet Jungkook’s again, he took a couple of steps towards the younger while the room held its breath. The lights turned red for a split second, then dimmed again, retreating as if they were equally afraid of the imposing leader.

“I don’t know what you were thinking. You’re supposed to be helping her, and this is how you go about that? You could have killed her! Is this your way of showing you can be trusted?!”

Namjoon never quite raised his voice enough to yell. But still you winced at the anger laced into his tone, and the arm he threw out towards you as he ranted.

Part of you stung anew after he said Jungkook could have killed you. You wanted to protest, hurt swelling within you at the insinuation that you were still too weak – but you pushed it down. The ghost of pain that lingered where Jungkook had struck you reminded you that he was right, as much as it shamed you to admit it, even to yourself.

Jungkook looked down, not able to keep eye contact with his enraged leader.

Sucking in his cheeks, Namjoon took a breath. But you certainly weren’t breathing. You could only hang on for whatever he said next, and the way he cast his eyes between the two of you didn’t instil much hope.

He fixed his eyes on you next.

“I told you I expected you to be able to trust us, including Jungkook. It’s clear you haven’t been able to do that yet. I’m sorry.”

Though he didn’t speak with as much fury, his sadness almost made you feel worse. You wished he would yell at you, give you something to push back against as Jungkook did.

But all you were left with was a punch to the gut more painful than anything the tempestuous younger boy could deliver.

His next words only made it worse.

“I’m keeping you back here until I’m sure you’re ready. I wanted you active as soon as possible, but not like this.”

Although his stern gaze lingered for a moment longer, you barely reacted. His words didn’t feel real. You could only stare blankly at him while the shock reeled through you.

When he turned away, you caught Jungkook’s eye. The satisfied glint you found there made your hands ball into fists.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon sighed now, pinching his nose, “same goes for you.”

At first, you weren’t sure you had heard him right.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one. Jungkook’s eyes widened in horror, straining against Hobi for another brief moment.

“What-?”

“I can’t have you acting like this while your head needs to be in the game, now more than ever. You’ll be staying behind until you show me you can be trusted with each other.”

Unlike with you, Namjoon fixed his dongsaeng with a hard stare, challenging him in some unspoken conversation until he seemed satisfied.

Turning to leave, Namjoon’s gaze fell on you again. His eyes softened, travelled to Jimin.

“Take her upstairs.”

With that, he stalked from the room. Light bled into the room again, but no one moved until he disappeared from the doorway, almost certainly returning to his office.

V stayed behind this time, and now moved towards you. Jimin’s hand on your arm shifted so he could help tug you up to stand. Though you may have stumbled a little, you were sure you could walk fine.

Still, you were grateful for Jimin’s hovering grip on your arm and V’s presence on your other side as they led you to the door.

Reaching the edge of the room, you glanced back at Jungkook. Your aim was to send the most venomous look you could, and it seemed his was the same. Still penned in by the others, who were corralling him away to the corner, he shot you a glare as he shrugged off Hope’s grip in an aggravated movement.

His scowl left your sight as you left the training room, but it stayed imprinted on your memory.

Thank you for reading!! I can't wait to hear what you think of the chapter!👀💜

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[moonlightspencie]

Next to You

Description: Trying to ignore the feelings you have for your best friend can cause complications. Especially when you find out what they’d risk for you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader

Warnings: mentions of cases (typical for cm), fluffff (mutual pining, friends to lovers, the usual)

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: originally posted on tumblr. then took on a new life on ao3. now it’s back on tumblr.

The last place I ever expected my career to go was working for the government. A stuffy office job was never my style. Luckily, the government job I found myself working was far from a boring life shoved away in a cubicle. Much to the dismay of my family, and to my absolute delight, I got to work pretty much the coolest job I could think of besides being an astronaut.

The elevator doors opened and I stepped out, strolling towards the bullpen. I dropped my stuff at my desk, and went straight for the kitchenette to find Penelope and Derek sitting at the little table near the counter.

“Hey, lovebirds,” I said with a wink.

“Oh, come on. You know you’re my number one,” Penelope answered, throwing a wink back at me.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Whoa, there. I thought you were my babygirl?”

Pen shrugged with a smirk. “You know I could never give you up.”

I laughed at the pair, grabbing a mug and filling it to the brim with coffee. I sipped at it, just watching them interact, adding in a little quip here and there until I heard JJ.

“Got a case, guys.”

She nodded towards the conference room as she walked past us. I topped off my mug again, following her to the room with the other two not far behind. We all filed in, taking our seats. Hotch and Spencer showed up a minute after we all got comfortable and JJ started speaking as soon as they hit the room.

Spence took his seat next to me with a tight-lipped grin my direction.

“The bodies of three young women have recently turned up in Portola, California, about an hour from Reno, Nevada.”

She introduced them as she went through the slides of where their bodies were found. Lakes and woods surrounded the area, making it easy to hide them without being traced back to somebody. I grimaced at a close up of the face of one of the victims. No matter how often we had to look at stuff like that, I could never quite force myself into thinking it was normal or just a routine. My discomfort must have been apparent, because Spencer reached up to place a hand on my shoulder for a moment, giving me a little smirk. I reached over to cover his hand with my own for a moment before turning back to give my full attention to the case.

“Any connection between the victims?” Derek asked.

JJ shook her head. “None, besides the fact they’re in their 20s. Different ethnicities, hair colors, lifestyles…”

“Very strange. It’s probably not a personal grudge against somebody then. Any signs of sexual assault or impotence?” Spencer asked.

“No, they didn’t find any evidence of abuse on the victims at all, actually, besides a few minor bruises. Probably from the victims attempting to fight back.”

I furrowed my brow. “So, what did he want with them?”

“That’s what we have to find out, and quickly,” JJ sighed, pulling out some photos of a girl in her 20s and passing them around. “A young woman named Rebecca Stevenson recently went missing in the area, and it’s very likely she was abducted. Her car was found on the side of the road, the keys still in the ignition. I’m willing to bet she was taken by our unsub.”

We all glanced at the photos her parents had sent in, committing her face to memory as well as we could.

“Alright, everyone grab your go-bags. Wheels up in 20,” Hotch concluded.

I huffed out a sigh as I plopped myself down in the seat next to Spencer on the plane. I slouched down, shutting my eyes for a moment.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. Just— I have a bad feeling about this one.”

“Let’s just get our job done as well as we can, and hope the rest works out.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

“Usually am.”

I scoffed out a laugh, opening my eyes. “You, Spencer Reid, are one cocky little…”

“It’s Dr. Spencer Reid, actually,” he interrupted.

We both broke out in a fit of laughter.

“You’re ridiculous.” I shook my head, looking up to him.

“We can be ridiculous together.” He nudged my shoulder with a smirk.

“What are you talking about? I’m the normal one.”

He raised a brow.

“Don’t you give me that look.” I joked.

We touched down in a couple of hours, and headed towards the local police precinct. We went through all of the formalities with local officers, explaining the situation and our procedures as much as we could before starting a profile on the unsub.

We ended up needing to take a few hours to sleep before heading to the families of the victims found and Rebecca’s family the next day.

“If we could just have a look at her room…” Spencer started.

“Of course! Whatever you need to be able to find her.”

Rebecca’s mom ushered us through the home, straight to her bedroom.

“She’s been staying here with me. Ever since her father passed…” Her eyes welled with tears. “It’s been hard. For us both. She was— So sweet to come back to stay with me during all of that. I just… Please, whatever you need. Find her.”

I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I promise we will do our best to bring Rebecca home.”

A few tears slipped down her face. “Thank you.”

I nodded, and she turned to leave us in the room. Spencer watched me for a moment.

“Let’s find her.” I nodded, beginning to look around her bedroom. I found a laptop and opened it. “Any ideas about the password, genius?”

He took the computer from me, sitting next to me on her bed. He started making a few guesses, somehow breaking in within a few minutes.

“Got it.”

“Awesome. What do we got?”

“Let’s see.”

He started searching around for any sliver of a clue as to what happened to her. It took several minutes before he found something.

“Uh, she was on a dating site, and had a lot of matches,” he said, searching through some of the messages.

“Think that could be something?”

“Maybe. Can you call Hotch and ask if any of the others were on this site?”

I nodded, dialing him up. We chatted for some time before I was able to hang up. Spencer watched me expectantly.

“They were all on the same site.”

“Okay, let’s find the commonalities.”

We scoured their profiles, finding only one common name: Andrew. But all we knew about him was a first name, age range, and a picture that clearly wasn’t of him. Luckily, we had the worlds best internet stalker on the team. Spencer and I went back to the precinct to meet Derek there, and hopped on the phone with Penelope until we figured out who we were going after. It didn’t take long before she found the most likely candidate.

“Uh… Andrew! Yes, his name is Andrew McClain, I’m sending you all his address now.”

I could almost hear the smile on Penelope’s face at her ability to discover pretty much anything she set her mind to. I would’ve smiled too if it weren’t for the dire circumstances we were working with.

“Thanks sweetheart,” Derek said back before hanging up.

He immediately called Hotch, letting him know what the situation was. The three of us practically ran to the car from the precinct, alerting Emily and JJ of the situation as we went. Derek tore out of the lot, speeding towards our destination as fast as he could go. We met Hotch and the unit chief in front of a mansion.

“No wonder he hid this all so well,” I said under my breath, staring up at the massive place.

“Makes sense why he had girls off of dating sites feeling okay coming over, too. Money can buy a lot of things, and unfortunately love is one of them,” Spencer said, coming to stand next to me. “Or, well, whatever form of affection can be reached through a sense of security.”

“That’s disgusting. Taking advantage of those girls like that.” I shook my head, looking away and towards the team instead. “They never saw it coming.”

“They never do.” Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing at whatever I seemed to be fixed on instead of the house.

Emily and JJ showed up not too long afterwards, and we all quickly went over the plan. We knew who and what we were looking for, and it seemed like it’d be pretty straightforward. We just hoped that we’d find Rebecca alive.

We snuck in as quietly as we could, tiptoeing around the mansion and checking each and every room and door we could find. I was following Hotch and the unit chief as they opened up the door to a bedroom in a downstairs hallway.

“Damn it,” I heard Hotch before I walked into the small room. He said something else to the chief that I couldn’t quite make out.

My steps slowed and eventually came to a stop in the doorway when I saw her. I really wanted him dead now. I huffed out a harsh breath as more agents walked towards the room Hotch was in, and shoved past them all. I rounded a corner in the maze of a house, getting up the steps to the second floor as quickly and quietly as I could, nearly throwing Spencer off his feet as I reached the top.

“Hey,” he said, though he meant it more as a question.

“They found her downstairs. I’m gonna kill him.”

“Hey, whoa.” He reached out to grab my arm as I tried to move past him. “We’ll get him, but don’t go looking alone.”

I nodded hesitantly as we both moved forward, peeking into each room before we heard a noise coming from a room near the end of the hallway. I stepped up first, gun drawn as Spencer opened the door for me. At first I didn’t see anything, then I heard him and whipped around to the far left corner of the room with Spencer not far from my side.

“What are you doing in my house,” he questioned, moving forward ever-so-slightly.

I pointed my gun at him. “We found Rebecca, Andy. You are one sick—”

“Don’t move!” Spencer interrupted, stepping ahead of me as Andy’s hand slowly came back from where he had attempted to reach in his back pocket. “What do you have?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

I stepped to be right next to Spence. “Whatever it is, Andy, it’s in your best interest to keep your hands where we can see them.��

We heard the footsteps of our team starting to trail up the stairs at the sound of our voices. Then, panic struck Andy’s face and he made a movement that was way too sudden for my liking.

Spencer threw himself in front of me before I even had a chance to react, using his body as a human shield. He threw his arms around me, holding tightly, and all we heard was a faint ‘click’.

I stared up at him, both of our eyes wide in shock. My mouth gaped open as if there were anything I could say in a moment like that. Spencer narrowly escaped death because of a jammed gun. He almost sacrificed himself to save me, and the only thing that stopped him was a faulty weapon.

“Spence” was all I could manage to whisper as we stood there, his arms still tight around me as agents made their way in and out with the unsub.

He unwound himself from me, taking only half a step backwards. His hands found my shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

“Am I…” I scoffed, trailing off. “Spencer. You could have died. What were you thinking?”

He put his hands up defensively.

“I wasn’t going to let you die, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to see you die either!” My voice rose, anger settling in with the sense of terror that still lingered. “Why would you do that?”

“I was protecting you.” He kept his cool, and it almost made me more upset.

“I can’t— What if the gun didn’t jam?”

“That doesn’t matter—“

“That doesn’t matter?! Spencer, you would have died. You would have died protecting me, I couldn’t live with myself.”

“And I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.”

I felt the tears beginning to fall. “Why would you do that?”

“Oh, oh no. Y/N please don’t cry.” He pulled me in again, stroking my hair and shushing me as he did.

“I couldn’t…”

“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re here, we’re safe. It’s okay.”

He held me for a few minutes before I could compose myself enough to let go, drying my tears. We went back to the precinct after a quick check-up to make sure everyone was alright, and got the hell out of Dodge as quickly as we could. I was grateful we didn’t have to stay much longer.

We got on the plane, and I took my usual spot next to Spencer, though still unsure what to say or do now that he had literally risked his life to save mine. I let the silence sit with us for a while before deciding to say something.

“Why would you do that?” I asked, quietly this time. My anger had gone, and now all that I was left with was worry.

“It was nothing, Y/N. The gun jammed, we’re both okay. You can’t focus on the ‘what if’ here, just try to look at what did happen. Please.” He pleaded with me, looking at me with those sweet, pleading eyes he knew how to use a little too well.

I only sighed, knowing this wasn’t a battle I’d ever win.

“You scared the hell out of me, Spence. I just— I don’t get why you’d do that.”

“I— I’d do anything for you.” He shook his head as he spoke as if it were the obvious thing to say.

It all came crashing down around me at once and I felt like I was walking around in a daze until we got back to the BAU. All the time I had spent trying to convince myself that my feelings would fade was all for naught— I don’t know how I could’ve ever believed that in the first place, even for a second. How couldn’t I love him, or at least feel as attached to him as I did. It was almost laughable to believe that I could have come to any other conclusion, and as much as I deeply and desperately wanted to keep my feelings a secret, something in me knew I couldn’t anymore. It was too much to keep hidden, especially from him. I just wished I had more time.

Practically the whole team had left soon after we got back and had gathered what was needed for a trip back home. It was late afternoon, and Hotch wanted everyone fresh for the next day anyways. But Spencer just had to be there. Of course, he had to be the one person left there when all I wanted was a chance to gather my thoughts completely alone. And of course, he had to speak.

“Hey,” he called from where he stood at his desk, “Come here for a second?”

My feet shuffled over, barely giving me a chance to say whether or not that’s what I even wanted to do.

“Yeah?” I questioned, getting little-by-little closer to him.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? You’re being really quiet, that isn’t you.” He looked concerned. I wanted to reach out and touch him. “Was it the case.”

“No, it’s— I’m fine, Spence.” I tried to smile, and I’m certain it looked like a pathetic attempt.

He only raised a brow.

“What?” I sighed.

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.” Spencer half smiled with an expectantly raised brow. He stroked my arm gently for a moment before taking a seat in his desk chair.

I breathed in deeply, leaning against the desk where he was.

“I don’t know how to say this,” I almost laughed as I spoke.

He shrugged. “I’m sure whatever it is— it’ll be fine. When has it ever not been?”

I nodded, glancing around as if I would find the courage I needed floating around the room, ready for me to grab hold of. It wasn’t there, though, but I knew I shouldn’t keep him waiting.

“I don’t want to call it love because I’m not convinced that I even know what love is. I will say, though, that I like you Spence. I think about you all the time, and I know nothing is going to come of it. I’ve made peace with that. I made peace with it the moment I really saw you for the first time. When you turned around and smiled at me because neither of us knew what to do on that case in Washington a few months ago. I can play it like a movie in my head. I knew I was screwed, but it’s okay because it has to be.”

“Oh.”

“I couldn’t keep hiding it all. Especially after what happened today, I just couldn’t.”

There was a moment of silence, breath baited as if there were anything left to say. Whatever speck of courage I found while speaking had completely and totally left me. It felt like an eternity before I could speak again.

“I’m sorry. I’m— I should go.”

He nodded, speaking quietly. “Yeah.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, pushing down all of the feelings that were bubbling up inside of me. I nodded back at him, packing up the things I needed at my desk and making a beeline for the door.

The fresh air hit my face and forced me to breathe for the first time, though now a racing heart and eyes welling with tears were in company too. I blinked quickly to try to rid them, and to adjust to the bright sun. Too much had happened in the past 48 hours and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry. We couldn’t save Rebecca, Spencer almost got shot, and now he probably wouldn’t speak to me again. I could hardly get home without breaking down, and the floodgates opened as soon as I hit the couch in my apartment.

I had pretty much cried myself dry when I heard a knock at my door. I wiped my eyes the best I could and walked over, slowly peeking around the door as I opened it. My heart sank.

“Spence?”

His eyes were wide, and he just looked at me.

“What are you doing here?”

“Are you okay?” He stared as he took in my reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. I wanted to disappear.

“I’m fine, Spencer. What do you need? I’ve had a long day.” I rubbed at my face absentmindedly.

He swallowed. “I, um— Can, could I come in?”

I nodded and he slid past me, practically sprinting to my couch, and taking a seat. I closed the door and went to go sit next to him. I watched him for a moment, but he still didn’t speak.

“Look, Spencer, I’m sorry for—“

“No.” He shook his head.

I stuttered. “Wh— Excuse me?”

“Uh… After you left, after earlier, I-I talked to Morgan.” He stared at me again as if I had any clue what he was talking about.

“Okay?”

“He…” He breathed out hard before composing himself. “I misunderstood. He, quite literally, smacked some sense into me. I didn’t understand what you were saying, I really didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. “What do you mean? How was what I said hard to understand?”

“Well, when you said the part about knowing nothing would happen. I don’t— I guess I interpreted that as you didn’t want anything to happen.”

“That’s not…”

“No, I know that now. I know,” he said, scrubbing at his face as he looked away from me. “Um… I don’t know how to say this.”

My heart began racing for a different reason.

“I thought you didn’t want me. Like you felt bad that you liked me but didn’t want to be with me. I just…” He shrugged. “I-I guess I kinda screwed it all up.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He looked to me again, a blush creeping onto his face.

He shook his head as if he hadn’t heard correctly. “I ramble.”

I laughed, unable to keep it in at that point. “You think that would stop me? Spencer, I literally never shut up. Why would I hold that against you? I love when you get excited, even when you’re talking my ear off.”

He smiled, a boyish joy taking over. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I paused. “Spence, you’re amazing. I’ve always thought so. Not to mention you risked your life for me today.”

“Do you— So, you like me?”

“I pretty much gave you a whole confession earlier.”

He looked away, nodding quickly. “I knew it the first time I saw you.”

“You— What? You knew I liked you?”

His brow raised as he glanced back at me. “No! No, I had no clue. I knew I liked you the first time I saw you. You were really nice to me the first time we talked, and I thought you were beautiful. Plus, you’re so smart and funny and you’ve never been mean to me about how much I talk, especially when I remember something about a case or something that has to do with a case that I think could—”

“Spence,” I whispered, scooting in closer to him on the couch. “As much as I love your rambling, I’d really love if you’d just kiss me already.”

He grinned with a little laugh under his breath, leaning in closer.

“Hey.”

I raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Before we kiss, can I ask you something?”

I tried not to smile. “One question.”

“Would you want to go out with me?”

“Depends on how good this kiss is.”

I started laughing, but was cut short when his lips pressed into mine. His hands grasped my face, pulling me closer. I grabbed his shirt, kissing back with equal fervor. We stayed connected for some time, but it was still shorter than I would have liked: my preferred time would be eternity.

We took a moment to catch our breath, giggling like a couple of kids.

“Was that good enough to date me?” He questioned with a smile.

I ran a hand through his hair, smirking up at him, still practically dazed.

“If I knew it was gonna be that great, I wouldn’t have ever said I’d date you if you did well. Now I think I might have to marry you.”

“Maybe we can try a date first, but I’m open,” he laughed, stroking my cheek. Then his face dropped slightly. “Who’s going to tell the team?”

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

[igotanidea]

Blocked: Dick Grayson x game streamer!reader

He's so clueless and concerned in this photo it just fits the whole plotline :D

***

„DAMMIT!” her sudden yelling coming from the game room got him on his feet, running inside immediately, in search for any possible threat to her life or health.

„What is going-?” Dick stopped in the middle of the sentence, his gaze focusing on her perked up ass in those devilishly tight jeans. The view he couldn’t stop himself from indulging in for a moment, even if it was as nice as it was confusing. „Babe, what are you-?”

„Damn the stupid Internet connection!” she yelled, flexing and twisting around her gaming computer, playing with some cables and plugs, desperately trying to fix whatever was broken and failing spectacularly. „I was supposed to post a new stream today! I was supposed to do a live! Screw that! Dammit! Why is it always happening to me!?”

„Y/N. Love--”

„Agh!” she groaned in frustration and just to make sure he was not going to be hit with something she might throw his way, Dick took a step back raising hands in surrender

„Princess why don;t you calm down for a moment and --”

„Calm down?!” she snapped ,twisting head his direction, fury in her eyes, blush of anger on her cheeks „How am I supposed to calm down. Redlotus95 is hot on my heels!”

„Red Lotus....?”

„I can’t drop on second place Dick. I’m serious! I’m not giving this little piece of shit the satisfaction of stealing my fans!”

„I think you take it a little bit too far, baby. It was supposed to be fun and relax, remember. What happened to taking things casually? Why the bloodlust?”

„Screw having fun. I am quite literally at war now Dick!”

„when did you became so competitive?”he frowned at her, taking a step forward and peeling the cobweb from her face. Clearly her head office needed cleaning.

„Since I was called a petty girl doing a in a men field!” she cried out, becoming exasperated in a second.

‘I’m sorry, what?” Dick blinked once, shocked by her words. Who in their sound mind, would ever dare to call his beautiful, wonderful and killer girlfriend such words. „gimme a name, Y/n.” he hissed, clenching his fist.

„Dick.”

„A name, love.”

„Can I please see Dick Grayson again?” she rubbed her forehead, the sudden change in his demeanor, his I-will-avenge-her-name eyes included, giving her extremely clear sign of which part of him, she was currently speaking to.

„What do you --? Oh, oh, okay, i get it. But babe, I don’t need to be Nightwing to punch whoever call you that name. I can still do it in my civilian version. I mean, have you seen my muscles?” he grinned, flexing his biceps. „Hands down I can beat anyone.”

„As sweet and chivalry as that is, I don’t need you defending my honour or whatever” she rolled her eyes, equally amused and annoyed. „I can do it myself but I freaking need a stable internet connection and new hardware! I can;t possibly work with this shit!” she had to gather all the strength she had to not kick the device.

„Y/N....” Dick grinned at her, showing literally all of his teeth.

„What--?!”

***

Computer store.

That was the what.  

And damn, let’s just say that were advantages to dating a billionaire’s son, cause she definitely didn’t have to cut on the expenditure.

***

„How does that even work!?”

„Could you be quiet for a moment!”

„ But I don’t know how to use that! What do I do?! Y/N!! What do I do!?”

„You just sit here quietly and look pretty!”

„Oh, that I can do--”

„God!” she groaned, even though deep, deep down inside she was laughing at his beginner attitude. „Hey everyone” she turned to speak to her followers active online waiting for her live stream. Sorry for the little shouting and screaming. That’s what you get when your charming boyfriend try to get involve in your hobby” she chuckled a little.

The comments started appearing a moment after she explained the little commotion and Dick almost jumped on his chair, rushing to read them all.

„Oh, look Y/N! They say hi to me!”

„Mhm.. sure they do.”

„They can hear me now, right? I can tell them hi too?”

„you know I’m starting to question if you were really raised by Bruce Wayne, the CEO of the most advanced technology company in the country...’

„Hey that’s mean!” Dick huffed, his eyes still scanning the comments carefully, almost as if he was watching a villain during his patrol. „but I guess your followers think it’s cute. Oh!” he gasped and smiled wickedly upon noticing one particular message. „Been-there-done-that is asking if you can post a picture of me. Sure she can, I’ll be more than happy to show you my face and --”

She cleared her throat in a  very suggestive manner.

„Sorry...” he send her that flashing smile again and turned back to computer as if keeping his eyes on the screen made the attenders hear him better. „Ok guys, listen up, before we start the -- um--?”

„Streaming session.” she gave him a prompt.

„Yeah, right, streaming session, I got one important message for you all--”

„Oh, no, Richard, don’t--!”

„Fuck you RedLotus95 for talking shit about my girlfriend!”

Youtube blocked her for two weeks.

She blocked Dick for ever attending her live sessions forever.

[reverie-obsessingtime]

Why I think Sparkle is a maladaptive daydreamer coded character and who it plays part into her character as a whole: from a maladaptive daydreamer (and a character analysis)

(Ok folks, this turned out rather long so get your popcorn and water at hands reach!.....trust me.)

Hi!!!! :,D This is my second post here and it feels like it's been a decade but here I am again haha...

This time I'm here with something I'm more confident in exploring as, I myself, am a maladaptive daydreamer! :,)

And because of that Sparkle hit me like a TRUCK and her MADD (mal. daydreamer for short) coding makes me love her and go insane about it at the same time.(it means a lot to me ok?😭)

Sooo I'm here today to expand and shine light on it to the rest of the masses as there isn't much appreciation for Sparkle (which is understandable cause she is a character not everyone can savor) and I feel like her maladaptive daydreaming can help understand her way of thinking.

comments, reblogs and likes are VERY much appreciated if you would like to see more of my billion cents and share with others to further show me support :,)

if you have any disagreements, corrections, different opinions or such that you would like to discuss I'm always open to further discussions as I would love to receive back engagement with these posts (as long as it is in good manners)

Enough talk from me though, let's get into it already:

What is maladaptive daydreaming?

Throw the google definitions out the window, let me give you a gist of it from someone who has it:

it's a coping mechanism turned addiction that can develop from loneliness or trauma (it is also common in people with ADHD). It helps you deal with the current reality you are in by offering escapism but it differs from normal daydreaming because it becomes maladaptive (as the name suggests).

What that looks like is being addicted to escaping reality through it by daydreaming, which can make you want to trade time forming human bonds, hanging out with friends, doing tasks you should, even taking care of yourself (etc.) with daydreaming. Most of the time you don't even need to do it but daydreaming is so much more fun and entering than ur current boring life that you keep doing it anyway. It can isolate you and make you lose touch with reality (from one degree to another depending on the individual).

But people with MADD DON'T ACTUALLY BELIEVE IN THEIR DAYDREAMS. They KNOW they aren't real. Some might willfully want to believe in them but at the end of the day they know it's all made up. If you are a MADD but get serious delusions about it you might want to check more into that cause something is overlapping.

Maladaptive daydreaming is MUCH more immersive and vivid than normal daydreams (what can I say, practice makes perfect🤭). Some MADD will stim while daydreaming in various ways that have to do with whatever they are daydreaming for enhanced immersion (some will pace around the room, some will make facial expressions, some will catch themselves talking, etc)

The daydreams each differ from individual to individual and can be classified in multiple types, some make OCs while others imagine a different version of themselves or make a character similar to certain degrees to them.

We are very much fictional-stories-makers nerds no matter to be honest

Now that we got the explanation out of the way:

Why do I think Sparkle has MADD?

🎇Proof number one: her character story IV

..... *POINTS AGGRESSIVELY* like?? COME ON!! (my "she is just like me fr!!!" moment and what made me want to make this whole post)

Ok, ok, let me try to be serious about this 😮‍💨

Analyzing this alone:

"It's truly addictive to me" maladaptive daydreaming is a behavior that is addictive to the individual (du uh)

"The more I imagine, the more I get absorbed in those characters" Getting absorbed into your daydreams (and it being addictive) is a core part of MADD and what differentiates it from normal daydreaming.

"the wonderful and tragic situations I create for them, and the emotions they experience in those circumstances..." Here, Sparkle is talking about the characters she makes and how by acting them and playing their roles and their stories, she enjoys herself and is entertained by them.

From my perspective, Sparkle is an individual who finds the emotions of others and how each reacts put in various situations, fascinating, entraining and enjoyable to witness, observe and ponder on more than an average individual.

Which I think is something all of us MADD, writers, OC makers, character analyzing enjoyers and fic writers can relate to ( "no"? ok. now tell me your OCs tragic backstory come on~ come on~ ik you have one. No? Ok then tell me through what psychological horror you want ur fav to go through~ Ik you know that you want them to get tortured by the writers at least just a tiny bit....I know what you are.)

🌸Further more quotes from her character story IV:

"Lies? Come on, I'm not trying to tell a grand story or fabricate an eye-catching experience... I'm wholeheartedly exercising my imagination for my own sake. I imagine various lives, seek excitement, and then recreate them as best I can, and pump the brakes on my imaginative balloon just a second before it bursts."

.... genuinely what do you want me to say honestly, that's SUCH a MADD to say, pls reread how many times it takes to get it. Everything in that is just PEAK maladaptive daydreamingness. Genuinely I don't have anything to add that won't sound like "Water is H2O and 2+2=4" 🤷

"Seriously, having a script is far from enough. First and foremost, I must wholeheartedly believe that the character I'm portraying truly exists. Then, I need to imagine the other stories where the character would appear. I always need extra information to make their motivation logical and emotional."

Sparkle seems dedicated to portraying, grasping and understanding her characters by IMMERSING herself into them as much as possible. Going the EXTRA mile, such as imagining other stories they could appear in, making herself believe the character TRULY exists and informing herself about them to portray them the best.

Which, again, all writers, OC makers and fic writers who actually give more than two dice about their character can relate to as we want our characters to be most accurate and well written and for that we do all Sparkle said.

The "I must wholeheartedly believe that the character I'm portraying truly exists" strikes a chord in me because it's such a ??? NON MADD ARE NOT THAT DEDICATED TO IT JSJSKSJ THAT'S SUCH A MADD MILDLY CONCERNING BUT MADD THING TO SAY SKDHSKSN IK WHAT YOU ARE!!!

OK OK.

I can hear you going "but she is an actor, it's just part of being an actor". Ok Sherlock, but Sparkle is not your average actor. Case and point:

Sparkles love for the stage of acting and how it ties into her MADD:

🎇Who is Sparkle an actor for?

Herself.

Saying "she is so matriculated and dedicated because she is an actor" is only half way true.

Sparkle's love for acting and her maladaptive daydreaming are things that can coexist at the same time. (just like being a writer and MADD for ex. (yes, some of ur fav writers could have been MADD))

Which got born from which? We don't know but both are proof of how much she loves the other.

("But you said MADD develops from trauma or loneliness" YES!! And we still have no real idea about Sparkles backstory but ik damn well a "normal" person with an average fine life doesn't end up like Sparkle.)

(Also no, her character stories 1,2,3 and be at most half trusted as she says she makes them up for each individual both in her char. story 4 and a voice line.

They could either be total nonsense or parts and truths of her past but altered/heavily exaggerated and metaphorical. Pick ur fighter tbh.

"There are a few versions that are particularly popular." "Liking and believing are two different things, but people are more likely to believe in their favorite stories." "Lies? Come on, I'm not trying to tell a grand story or fabricate an eye-catching experience... I'm wholeheartedly exercising my imagination for my own sake."

She is basically toying with everyone who asks including the player for her own amusement and, honestly? Iconic.)

🌸She acts for her own entertainment.

Wealth, status, power... None of this matters to Sparkle. The only thing that can lure her interest is "amusement". (from her twt intro)

Her doing all this. Immersing herself into characters so deeply. It's all for herself and her own enjoyment. Just like MADD is for us and our own enjoyment and entertainment.

Not to be the greatest actor or for others recognizing her. In her introduction on twitter, she says: "I'm not exactly a person loaded with cool skills, and dreaming big isn't really my thing." Which says enough to contradict such ideas.

Yes, some MADD might go on to become writers or actors but some don't. And those who don't could still want to improve their characters FOR THEMSELVES because that will bring them more enjoyment, because they love what they do and their characters for one reason or other and want them to shine like they see them could.

🌸Sparkles elation is acting and MADD.

Elation: great happiness and exhilaration.

What makes her feel elation? Acting. What is her heavy immersive acting that is all for herself to feel elation intertwined with? Maladaptive daydreaming ✨

(wow, shocked, ik)

Sparkles Myriad Celestial Trailer: Behind the Curtain

Next, I want to talk about both her Myriad and Character Trailer through a MADD lens, starting off with her Myriad Celestial Trailer:

What struck a chord in me with it is her "conversation" with her mask. What is her mask really representing for her? The way I see it: it's her MADD and also, Sparkle.

At first she says it keeps on smiling even when she doesn't and that she can hide under it. While in reality we might not be able to smile all the time. Escaping into our daydreams through characters who can helps. The use of a veil to describe it can also be interpreted as choosing to hide your true emotions from yourself and others through emulating a characters happy emotions and state of mind.

Second, she says the mask imitates her face, her emotions, like a mirror showing her own reflection. When writers come up with characters, some might be similar to them through a degree with or without the creator even realizing. This can happen to MADD more since we are creating characters for ourselves and its a coping mechanism so emotions seep through unless we make a character/s that we want to share with others. It's also a way you can understand and grasp yourself better. In this particular setting, I think she means how through some characters she acted as (made by others) herself and emotions shines true,like that character and her acting were a mirror.

Third, it takes a darker turn, "when I'm smiling, you're screaming. When I'm angry, you're crying. When I'm sad, you're smiling". This could be her MADD taking a tool on her.

"When I'm smiling, you're screaming" like when you are content with reality but your addiction's screaming at you to be noticed, like an icky who wants to be scratched. The urge to do it despite not needing to.

"When I'm angry, you're crying" This is her "mask" empathizing with her, weeping for her anger and understanding it like no one else could.

"When I'm sad, you're smiling" this could be the situation from the first instance, but it takes a darker turn so I think the "mask" smiles because it knows that her sadness assures its existence.

Addiction is dependent on your sadness because you do it to comfort you through that sadness. Her acting and MADD is both her addiction and her elation.

From Sparkles tone, she might even be surprised at how, despite her deep sadness, the mask can still smile.

"You're like a face, steering at me" she says at the end. It brings back in mind the imagery of a mirror/reflection. But instead of a reflection, it's a different reflection, still a reflection, but not.

It reminds of when I see characters being depicted as steering into a mirror and they are smiling but their reflection reflects how they truly feel inside (emo ik)

I think that's what it's supposed to mean. Your true self steering at you, it's uncomfortable and penetrating.

Or maybe it's a blank face being unsurprised or just lacking any emotions or maybe the face itself is empty waiting to be drawn on an expression.

It's a very vague sentence, and I don't want to pretend like I 100% understand the meaning behind it, because it can be interpreted in very different ways and only an explanation by the one who said it can give us a sure answer. Maybe it's something we can't even understand with the info we currently have on her.

Overall, she holds positive feelings about her mask but she also recognizes it's kinda fcked up but she still chooses it at the end of the day for the elation it gives ("I am elation" ok girl.)

🌸In this section, I also want to come back to her:

Oh who is she?🎶~

Actually? Good question! :D

I think it was Sampo who commented that Sparkle's name is probably made up (which du uh)

But that is fascinating as well.

We see this girl at first in her trailer looking soft and innocent, nothing like the more.... eccentric person we know today.

If you look closely, she DOESN'T have the butterfly/flower(?) symbol in her eye at the start but she DOES at the end. Which to me represents how she and Sparkle were separate at the start.

"It doesn't matter how I am off stage.

When I'm on stage, I'm just Sparkle"

With the end of this video, this whole thing might be made up go, but that would be too pointless and annoyingly stupid so I'm inclined to believe she isn't fckin with us in this one. (for the most part)

That said, it seems like the girl Sparkle was before was performing for her love of acting, her madd, and for the audience.

But as time went on, doing all of this for an audience over and over lost its meaning (and probably drove her insane a little)

"When I realized that life was just a play, I wanted to leave the stage.

Because off stage, there is a even bigger stage"

Her acting, madd and elation shapes her way of seeing life and others. Why confine yourself to a stage when you can take yourself and your characters to the big stage of life itself and have fun with it the absolute bonkers way you want?

She is very much a Shakespeare truther, as he put it:

"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts."

That's how her acting made Sparkle see things (to an extreme )

🌸Another thing is this scene:

"Im.... I'm not Sparkle

No, I am Sparkle"

Both in her Myriad and Character Trailer, she is actively conflicting with herself.

In this moment. She shows opposition to "Sparkle". The physical constraint is interesting imagery as well. Maybe she feels trapped by "Sparkle"? Like "Sparkle" is against her? Why is she? Because she doesn't allow her to be Sparkle(/herself/her true self)?

She separates herself from Sparkle at the start but becomes her after and laments that she isn't her than at the end, and only then, her eyes have the same symbol this big eyes have in the back (Sparkles) eyes and she becomes Sparkle.

Which, um, IS SO INTERESTING!??!?!?!

I think at the end, she gives into her want to be Sparkle and fully embraces it. Fully embraces the path of elation.

And I don't think Sparkle isn't her. I think it's still her, just more free, unrestrained version of herself that doesn't hold back when the rest of society those.

Think like how different someone with social anxiety disorder is when they feel comfortable with summon and lets out their weirdness for example. We hold back on many actions because of societal perception but she stopped giving a fck and WILL set up a hundred "bombs" on a ship to fck with people for her own amusement.

Seeing life as a stage comes with seeing the absurdism of if all and choosing to stop giving a sht and have your own fun and entertainment. Play the roles you want to play instead of playing the part.

🌸As for my take on this part?

Yeah, maybe the whole thing wasn't her true backstory, but I think it's not 100% false either. Or maybe it is and she sees it as her playing another role. The role of her past self how is so so different it's her own character at this point, right? :))

It sure was more realistic than all the other stories going on in the background (like come on, Harry Potter, Sparkle playing Herta)

"Who is the real Sparkle"

Maybe the answer is all of the Sparkles are Sparkle.

Am I gonna elaborate? Mmm, nope. :)

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

*cracks knuckles* OOOOOKKK this turned out quite long Jesus (never put me to write something about a fictional character in a few paragraphs, that's physically impossible for me)

Don't worry though, I'm probably gonna make a part two soon 🙃 (analyzing her Character Trailer, her design, her in game animations, who knows what ales, etc etc~) (no we are NOT done, we. are absolutely. NOT done.)

Soooo can you tell how much I like Sparkle? She lives rent free in my mind actually.

There isn't enough talk about her more deeply despite how MUCH there is to ponder on so I have to take it upon myself to do it 😮‍💨

If you made it here..... will you marry me?🥹💍

NAH NAH NAH JUST KIDDING 🤭

But if you did then thank you for giving me the time of day and I hope this post spark(l)ed some curiosity and interest into this little hedonistic gremlin! :D

(also no, I don't ignore, justify or support her racist remarks)

I do these posts mostly for myself but someone else to respond back is really nice! :,)

Ok, I'm signing off for this one. See ya in part two 👋:)

[beanghostprincess]

Sanji has helped me in so many ways. I will forever be grateful for the creation of this character. He quite literally means the world to me right now.

(TW: ED/Depression/Suicide attempt mention)

I've always struggled with food. Well, not always. But at the end of middle school (more or less. Give or take. Age 12/13) I became obsessed with what I ate. I still don't know exactly how it started, but I think it has always been a mix of my need to control my life when it's crumbling down and the necessity to look skinny (both things are my mother's fault, mostly. And also lots of things going on at the moment). So I started skipping meals constantly and throwing away food and throwing up. Not gonna get into details, but it ruined my life without anybody knowing until a huge depressive episode came and then I tried to off myself, yadda yadda yadda. Then I just stopped eating food and my meals every day were basically a monster and gum and maybe a piece of fruit. I couldn't even drink milk without crying. Then it got a bit better. Then a bit worse. It wasn't very consistent. And then I started doing exercise but that only made me even more obsessed with calorie intake and healthy food and I still can't drink milk or bread without at least feeling awful about it.

And then I watched One Piece.

I know it sounds extremely silly and dumb, but it has helped me in so many ways. I'm not gonna get into all the things it has done for me, because then I'd have to talk about Robin, Nami, Luffy, Pudding and Buggy which are, like, the characters that have helped me the most next to Sanji, and I would not finish this post.

But Sanji is just so, so important to me.

He speaks about food with such passion. His whole thing about not wasting food literally comes from an experience of starvation and because of the sacrifice his father made for him. He keeps saying he refuses to let people go hungry, no matter what. That we all deserve to eat. He relates food to love and cooking is his whole life. It kind of started as a joke when my brother said "nooo, now you can't waste food because Sanji would be sad" and I- That day I literally ate wayyy more than usual with that thought in mind. And I didn't feel bad afterward for once. And he's just- He just makes me feel so comfortable around food. Which is the normal amount of comfort somebody should have and sometimes it's not even that, but it helps. It helps so much.

Then his whole thing with Germa and the Vinsmokes. It killed me. My relationship with my mother is, uh, you can call it complicated but I fucking hate her so. Yeah. And Sanji's story about rejecting his blood relatives and finding better people who will love him hit so close to home. Him being different. Weak. More emotional. A good person. Sanji refusing to use the name Vinsmoke. It's my whole life. Sanji self-sabotaging himself all the time and constantly sacrificing himself, too? I just can't do it, man, he means the world to me. And then Wano happens and he turns out to have the same body as his siblings but he's still himself. He's still Sanji no matter how much in common he has with the Vinsmokes. And as somebody who's constantly dealing with people telling them that they look like their mom? I fucking love it. I know I look like her and I even act like her sometimes but that doesn't mean I am her. And it doesn't mean she deserves to be part of my family, because she isn't and I can't wait to get rid of her in my life.

It's not only food and family, though. Sanji has helped me accept myself in so many ways too. In the way I perceive others and in the way I act. He has helped me eat. He has helped me realize you don't have to consider your blood relatives family if you don't love them. He has helped me see that my kindness is a strength and not a weak spot.

Not to mention that his whole thing with gender and sexuality, how the fandom portrays him, and how I personally write him has been of so much help in understanding myself. I recently discovered I was a lesbian, and also being genderfluid I just- I just love Sanji so much I be projecting my gender issues and internalized stuff with comphet on him. And let me tell you, it helps.

This whole thing is just something short and sweet I wanted to say because media affects people. In the best of ways. One Piece in general has saved my life in many ways, but Sanji in particular is still helping me every day.

[kvhasproblems]

Bite The Hand - Van Palmer X Reader

Chapter 1

chapter 2, masterlist

Summery: This story is just going to follow the plot of yellowjackets with a reader insert. The first chapter takes place about a week before the crash.

Warnings: reader has like serious comphet and eternalized homophobia for the first bit of this, reader also has religious trauma and shity parents (who even has good parents in this show lmao), regular yellowjackets violence, this is also gonna be like the slowest of slow burns

A/N: I only played Timbit’s soccer when i was super young so please just ignore if any of the soccer stuff is wrong, I also have no idea when I will post chapter 2 of this because I’m moving out in 2 weeks so between packing and moving to live by myself I might not have a lot of time, but I’m planning to post this once I have half of the second chapter written.

Word count: 2300

Chapter 1

"Oooooo, right into my hands. Again." Van bragged with her crooked smile.

I found myself staring, even though I tried not to. Her gorgeous red hair and that perfect smile and- I need to focus. Coach has been on my ass all week about improving this specific goal-scoring technique, so I asked Van to meet 30 minutes before practice to work on it and warm up because, god forbid she doesn’t get her perfect warm-up in.

“Well, maybe if you stopped being so good, then I’d be able to score on you." I huff back.

"Your shoulders are a dead giveaway in your fake-out. You have to avoid twisting so much."

"I’d like to see you try," I say, my hands finding my hips with a grin on my face.

"I’d like to see you in goal; how about that?" She challenges back with that smile. Again, that smile that just makes my heart flutter deep in my chest no matter how much I try to ignore it, "Now try again; this time try to remain aligned and grounded before you make the kick."

I line up and go for it, watching as the ball sails through the air and nestles into the net right in the corner just before Van is able to reach it.

"YES!" A thrill of excitement shot through me once I realized I had made the shot. I rush to Van, and she opens her arms before I leap at her for a hug. Her arms wrap around me tightly, safe and warm. I can feel my heart racing in my chest as Van’s eyes find mine. Her eyes fall to my lips, and for a moment, Van is the only thing that exists in this world; all other concerns disappear. As my lips part in anticipation of a kiss, I start to lean in. But my mother's voice in the back of my head pulls me back to reality.

"Van… I can’t." I whisper while pulling out of her embrace. Instant hurt flashed deep across her face.

"Ok," she said, giving me a tight-lipped smile. "Let’s just keep practising," she said while looking like a wounded puppy.

"Van… we have to stop doing this; it’s wrong." I sighed. 

"We are just practising; I don’t see what the issue is," she deflected with a heavy sigh.

"You know what I’m talking about I can’t keep- "

"You can’t keep what? Acting like you feel the same and then bailing out and making me feel like I’m an idiot for liking you." She breathed out, exasperated.

"You don’t like me; girls like boys that’s just how it is."

She scoffed, throwing up her hands in berating surrender. "Wow… ok then."

"Don’t be like that." I protested.

"like what"

"All... I don’t know," you jester to her with your hands. "Angry with me!"

"I’m not angry-"

"Then why are you acting like this?"

"Me! Why am I acting like this?" She ran her hand down her face. "God Y/n, you kissed me at that party, and you just expect me to forget about it!"

"I already told you it was a mistake!" I rushed out with tears threatening to fill my eyes. The blow hit Van dead in the chest, and she physically had to take a step back. Regret flashes through me the moment I see her face.

A heavy silence filled the space between us as I struggled for something to say.

"Look I-"

"Save it" 

"No Van-"

"I said save it." She huffed while turning and beginning to walk off the pitch.

Van, you don’t get it," I called after her while following her to the changing rooms. "My parents would kill me."

"And you think my mom wouldn’t?" She whipped around to face you.

I took in a shaky breath.

"Look, forget I said anything. You were right; this was a mistake." Van snapped before storming off into the changing room.

I stood there, trying to process what just happened. Fat tears rolled down my face as I tried to get my bearings on my emotions. This is for the better. I’m not supposed to like girls like this. But I still couldn’t shake the deep ache in my chest.

I took a moment to collect myself before walking into the changing room. A deep shame was starting to bloom in my chest. From what, I wasn’t sure what it was—maybe it was hurting Van or disappointing my parents, or being hurt by the same comment I made. Maybe it was all of it.

As I entered, I heard Jackie laughing and talking loudly to Shauna, who was trying to braid her hair before she gave up and just put it in a ponytail. I took this as my moment to just sneak by. I don’t think I can deal with Jackie’s insane positivity right now.

"Oh hey, Y/n!" Jackie called 

Shit.

"Hey Jackie, Shauna." I answered. Shauna waved at me with a small smile before going back to getting ready.

"You’re here early," Jackie said.

"Um yeah, I and Van came to get some extra practice in; I was working on that scoring technique so you and coach could finally stop bugging me." I added an attempt at a laugh at the end, but my heart wasn’t in it, not that Jackie seemed to notice.

"Well, that’s great anyways-" I tune out the rest, nodding and smiling when I need to, as I apply some extra deodorant and make sure I’m ready for today's actual practice.

The other girls slowly trickled into the changing room. I keep sweeping the room with my eyes, expecting to see Van, but I can't find her anywhere. The guilt from earlier keeps eating at me, making me feel sick to my stomach. If regionals weren’t right around the corner, I might have feigned ill and gone home. Not that being home would make me feel any better.

"Y/n… Y/N!" Jackie practically yelled in my face. "Hello earth to Y/n"

"I- sorry." 

"I was just saying that if we win the regional match, we should rally the team and get ice cream or something. Anyway, practice time." Jackie patted me on the shoulder, like she was ushering me forward.

"HEY EVERYONE! Make your way to the pitch! This is our last practice before regionals, and I wanna see hard work, determination, and good technique today. Jackie preached before giving her classic smile and walking out.

I followed slightly sluggish, I still haven’t seen Van since we came inside.

Nat ran up, bumping my shoulder playfully with hers. "Hey, you see Van? Woah, you good? You look like-" 

"I'm fine, and no, I haven't." I push past her to make my way to the pitch.

"Ok then.." Nat rolled her eyes as I walked away.

"Yellowjackets! Come on, hurry up!" Coach Martinez clapped his hands loudly, trying to rush us along. Despite his protests, we gathered rather slowly around him. "Take a knee, so today we are going to be running drills and going through specific plays-" He continued to ramble on about the specifics of today's practice.

"Hey," Tai whispered to me. "Where’s Van?"

"God, why does everyone keep asking me that?" I mumbled back.

"I thought you guys came early to practice."

“We did but-”

"Hey, ladies! Knock it off; I want full focus!" Coach snapped at us before continuing his rambling.

Tai waited a moment before speaking again in a hushed voice, trying to avoid Coach’s attention.

"If you guys came early, then why isn’t she here?"

"I don’t know." I huffed, getting annoyed with this conversation.

"Did she tell you where she was going or-"

"No, Tai, she didn’t. I -" 

"LADIES! Last warning, or you’re going to be running 2 miles after practice today." Coach barked angrily, clearly done with being interrupted. He gave us a final warning glare before he continued his speech.

A few moments later, Van came out of the change room. We made brief eye contact, and she walked right past me to sit on the other side of the group, the farthest from where I was kneeling. Van always sits beside me and Tai. The worried and speculative eyes of our team members had silent conversations, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Palmer, nice of you to show up!" Coach joked, clearly not amused. "Laura Lee, catch Van up! Let’s start with warm-up laps! Everyone up!" 

I stand up, and quiet chatter begins amongst the group. As we walk to the edge of the pitch, they group off and talk in hushed voices while looking back at Van and I. I try to ignore them even though it feels like I can feel their stares digging into me, tearing me apart, and discovering all my secrets. I just start running to hopefully avoid thinking about it so much. I almost ran up to Van to talk to her about it before I remembered what got me into this situation in the first place. I just continue my laps.

"Sooo, you gonna tell me what’s going on?" Nat jogged up beside me. "And don’t say nothing because I think that was the most awkward thing I’ve ever seen in my life."

"We just… had a disagreement, that’s all."

"A disagreement? Really?" She looked at me, her stare feeling like it was picking me apart, so I focus on the field in front of me.

"Must have been one hell of a disagreement."

"Just leave it, Nat." I huff back.

"Alright alright."

I push my pace so I wouldn’t have to run beside her. I hate all these questions, I hate feeling guilty, and most of all, I hate that Van won’t talk to me. The laps seemed to take an almost unbearable amount of time; I forgot how boring warm-up laps are without Van trying to make me laugh. I find myself missing more than ever how she looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters in the whole world and how she gets so distracted by what I’m saying that she even crashed into Allie that one time. I allow myself the luxury of daydreaming while I run, even though my stomach churns slightly at the thought of what my mom would do if she knew what I was thinking.

Our next section of warmup is strength training before stretching. Coach had us participate in a totally “wonderful” array of exercises.

"Ok, final conditioning exercise for today: partner sit-ups! Find a partner! Quickly," Coach barked. I scanned the team for my go-to partner just to see her pair up with Tai. My heart sinks in my chest.

"Hey, Y/n partner with me?" Lottie spoke softly with a kind, knowing smile.

"Of course, wanna go first?" I ask, returning a sort of smile.

"Sure." Lottie got ready to do the sit-ups while I held her feet on the ground. She completed her first set before speaking.

"So do you wanna talk about it?"

"I’m not sure there’s much to talk about."

"I’m not sure I believe you…" she protested. I sighed in response. "But if you change your mind, you can come over later; we can make cookies."

"Cookies sound good, plus I have nothing else to do after practice; my parents have some fancy gala to attend to impress some investors," I said, rolling my eyes. Lottie and I met a year before we ended up at the same school together at one of those fancy galas. Neither of our parents seemed to care what we were doing as long as we were well-behaved. Ever since then, we have become friends, spending time together to make up for the fact that no one is ever really around at home.

After we stretched, we moved on to drills before Coach said, "Ok, kids, scrimmage time. Misty will split you into groups."

"Coach… We should say a prayer." Laura Lee suggests acting almost surprised that Coach didn’t suggest it himself.

He just gruffed out an ok and let Laura Lee take the lead.

"Lord," she prayed, clasping her hands together. "To you, we pray; we come asking for your guidance during our practice. Please lend us your strength and courage to make right in your eyes. Amen."

 "Amen," the group echoed.

'Make right in your eyes.’ The words bounced around my skull like a ping pong ball as I take my place as Left Back. What was right in God’s eyes? Was it following my parents beliefs, being the perfect student, the perfect soccer player, the perfect girl who marries the perfect boy and has perfect children with a perfect house?

Coach’s whistle rang loud, and the scrimmage started. I jumped into action, despite my spiralling thoughts. I threw myself headfirst into the game. If soccer was good for one thing, it was making my brain feel quiet. It was the one place where I could just be myself.

This scrimmage was played with small teams so despite having Left Back as my usual assigned position, this play required me to play more forward was as my usual assigned position, Tai yelled to Allie, signalling her intentions to pass I knew this was my chance. As Tai made the pass, I scooped the ball from Allie's right, knowing that’s her weak side. Tai’s angry yells were faint as I sprinted up the field on a breakaway. Now was my chance. I lined myself up square and grounded myself before slamming the ball into the right corner of the net. Right passed Van. 

I did it!

I fucking did it!

The wide smile on my face matched Van’s in celebration before the rush of how our "disagreement" started in the first place came to the forefront of her mind. I saw her smile fall before Coach’s calls drew me back towards the other side of the field. I turned back briefly to see a look on Van’s face I couldn’t quite decipher. 

[catt-leya]

Touch Me Pt.1 || Rick Grimes

First I wish @toxic-ink a wonderful birthday and love to post the fic you asked for 💗💗💗

I've been asked before for a fic with more than one part and here we have it 👉🏼👈🏼 I don't know yet how many it will be in the end, but you can count on a small series 👀

(I won't just post the fic though, I'll keep throwing in other fics 💅🏼)

Summary: You meet a group in the forest and learn what it means to meet Rick there. (S5)

I try to breathe regularly and not to stumble over some protruding roots as I make the sprint of my life.

Hectically I take a look back and fortunately I can't see him anymore, which doesn't mean that he might not reappear in a moment.

Again and again I dodge hanging branches until I can recognize a group of hopefully living people between the bushes. Briefly I stop and hear them talking softly, so they must be alive.

I realize that they must not be good people and I can really get myself into shit, but when I hear it crack behind me, I don't think any further and break through the bushes.

I am still a few meters short of the group and I notice most of them pointing guns at me.

I aim at the person closest to me and get over another meter gasping, "Help me please."

The fact that I can speak is the sign that I am not a living corpse, and the guy I throw myself at is so surprised that he drops the rifle in his hand and I pull him to the ground with me.

We both hit the ground thudding and the impact squeezes the air out of his lungs, but he catches himself surprisingly quickly and spins me around so that I'm lying pressed on the ground underneath him and I'm already regretting showing myself to the group until I look to the side and also see women in the group who don't look like they're being forced to be here.

Every woman I can make out is carrying weapons and one guy even stands protectively in front of a young woman.

The guy above me barks, "Daryl! Go see where she came from!"

A man with longer hair breaks away from the group and walks with a woman through the bushes where I ran through.

As they disappear, I look for the first time at the guy I picked up in my sprint.

With his weight he presses me to the ground so I can't move much more than my head and geez, probably would have been better if I couldn't look at him.

His face is extremely close to mine due to the interesting position and I can feel his breath on my lips. Although his mouth distracts me a bit, my eyes are fixed on his eyes.

In this dreary world, they seem far too blue and I have to blink several times before I can break away from his face and look down his body instead.

He kneels over my hip and presses my wrists firmly to the floor with his hands. Surprisingly, while he holds me firmly in place, he doesn't hurt me in the process.

I don't know how long we stare at each other silently, but in the background I hear this Daryl guy come back with the woman and says, "Don't know what the lady was running from, but there's nothing there."

Still staring at the guy above me, Daryl mutters, "Rick?"

Now I at least have a name to go with the handsome face, but still can't bring myself to say a word. Rick doesn't respond to his buddy either, which is why Daryl kicks him lightly in the leg and says, "Dude, what's up?"

This seems to snap Rick out of his thoughts and he hisses, turning to me, "You got any guns on you?"

When I used to read novels, I always wondered what the authors could possibly mean by bedroom voice, and now I'm pretty sure I get it, what they mean. That smoky undertone of his makes me sigh softly, but I bite my lower lip just in time to not come across as a complete idiot and answer truthfully, "Two knives on my thighs."

Hesitantly, he lets go of one of my hands and reaches for my thigh.

I completely blame it on the fact that it's been a long time since I've seen a man I found as attractive as the one above me, but my whole body reacts as his hand strokes my thigh and he removes both knives from their holders and hands them to Daryl before asking, "No guns?"

I shake my head, not really expecting him to believe me. I wouldn't believe me either.

That's why I don't bat an eye as he pats me down and, of course, finds nothing else.

Apparently I'm no longer an immediate threat and he sits up before getting up from me and holding out his hand for me to stand up too.

I proudly ignore his helping hand and hoist myself to my feet far more inelegantly than he did.

I get stares from everyone and feel the need to say something, "Thank you."

In a raspy voice, Rick asks me, "What were you running from?"

Unsure, I squint again at the bushes and then shrug, "There was some guy."

The young man who had earlier stood protectively in front of a woman breaks away from the group and takes a few steps toward me, "What guy?"

Again I shrug my shoulders, "I don't know. Just a guy."

Out of the corner of my eye I see Rick tilt his head, "So you ran away from some guy and then figured your best bet was to run into the next one and kiss the ground with him?"

With narrowed eyes I look back at him, "Exactly. I thought to myself: Great, there's a new guy. The best thing for me to do is test him out and see if he'll catch me if I run into his arms."

His eyebrows go up and I sigh, "My goodness. I was taking out some of the walking corpses in the woods and this huge man suddenly appeared. As far as I could tell, he was alone and at first he helped me take out the rest of the assholes. Then I went to ask him who he was and he tried to get in my pants. As you can imagine, it wasn't my dream to have sex with this guy and when he wouldn't let up I took off. Instead of letting me go though, he came after me and no shit, the guy made a move, I had to make 3 to keep up so he couldn't catch me. Then I saw you guys and thought to myself: A group with women might be better than falling back into the guy's arms."

I point to Rick, "That's why I fell into your arms and I have to admit I knocked you off your feet pretty easily."

Of course he doesn't take the teasing and asks, "What's your name?"

I tell them my name and look to Daryl, "Can I have my knives?"

He merely shakes his head and I look to Rick with a sigh, "I could have easily stabbed you when I ran into you."

The young woman mutters, "She's right."

Still, Rick, like Daryl, shakes his head, "No, you're not getting them back yet. We'll take another look around for your ominous colleague and then move on. By 'we' I mean you, too."

Immediately I raise my hands deprecatingly, "Noooo, you can forget that real quick. I thank you guys for your help, but I'm not staying with you."

Rick takes a step toward me and I'm too stiff to react, only flinching when I feel the cool metal around my wrist.

Hectically I look down at my wrist that is encased in one side of a handcuff and can't believe the other side is encasing Rick's wrist, "What did you do that for?"

Quietly he says, "I don't trust you."

In disbelief, I throw my free left arm in the air, "And you think that's a good idea?! What if I have a group out looking for me and then take you all down?"

Rick pulls on the handcuff and says, "You don't."

Slowly the group starts moving and I have no choice but to follow Rick, "How do you know?"

Looking over his shoulder at me, he says, "If you did, you would have run to them and not strangers."

In fact, he's right, and I really don't like him for it, even if his pretty face makes up for a lot.

Still, I don't let up, "And what if I was bitten."

Again he replies, "You weren't."

These smartass answers make my skin crawl and I hiss, "Nice to know you're omniscient."

I hear him laugh softly and, unfortunately, I can't stifle a grin either and don't ask any further questions.

Again and again, some of the people disappear into the woods and I assume they are scanning the area. They don't seem to find anything that calms me down and so slowly I also get used to the fact of being handcuffed to a strange man, except that the handcuffs rub against my hand with every step.

I look at Rick from the side and ask, "Is the handcuff really necessary?"

Silently, he nods, not even looking at me, so I ask the group, "How long have you all been traveling together?"

The young woman I've seen time and time again comes forward to join us and nods at me, "I'm Maggie and most of us have known each other for a long time."

I smile at her, "That sounds nice."

We talk some more and she introduces me to everyone in the group before she is called out by her husband (I'm told) and I'm alone again with Rick and my aching wrist, "Why don't you take this stupid handcuff off me?"

He brushes a few strands out of his face and says again, "No." That's when I groan in frustration, "Come on. My wrist is burning like fire."

I can see him roll his eyes and then take my hand in his. Nothing more happens.

He holds my hand in his and just keeps walking.

I'm also too surprised to say anything, but the fact is that the metal doesn't rub on my hand like that anymore. So I walk next to him holding hands.

The longer we walk silently side by side like this, the more familiar it feels, and as I yawn, I slide my fingers through his, which catches me a quick glance from him, but he just bites his lower lip and doesn't comment further.

I have no idea how long we go on until he says, addressing everyone, "This is where we will sleep."

Everyone immediately knows what to do and I can't help but be impressed with how strongly the group sticks together and works with each other. Even in this short time, I feel safe in their midst and although I miss my knives, I don't feel like they're throwing me to the corpses.

Rick walks with me to a tree and slides down it. Through our intertwined fingers, he pulls me along with him and I plop down on the ground next to him.

Lowly, I say, "I was so snotty earlier, but I meant it about being grateful to you."

Lazily he looks at me, "You're welcome."

A small smile forms on my lips and I slide around on my butt so I can look right at him, "I'd like to know what went on in that guy's head that he had to run right after me."

The sun is slowly setting and the light that falls through the dense canopy of leaves casts advantageous shadows on his already handsome face as he wearily replies, "Some people were sick in the head before all this shit. But to a certain extent, I can even understand him."

I frown and his gaze slides along my body, "You're really pretty, which of course is no excuse for what he wanted to do to you nor can it pass for an explanation, but I can understand that he was thinking about having sex with you."

And my mouth drops open.

Did he just shamelessly tell me he wanted to have sex with me?

I should be indignant and maybe even feel some fear because I'm tied to the man, but I'm not.

Instead, I cough, "Wait. What?"

He laughs softly and leans his head against the tree trunk, "Oh come on. I wouldn't touch you in my life without your consent, so just take it easy. You can't blame me, though, for thinking about it ever since you ran into me."

To be continued...

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #41

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Names and locations have been changed to protect the identities of the fictional. Please enjoy.

I haven’t been sleeping lately. The voices keep me awake. I don’t remember what they said, usually, but one stuck with me last night:

“Goodbye.”

These voices come when I am half-dreaming, in a sort of contradictory way where I know I’m in bed. I can feel the sheets, the pillow bunched under my neck, the weird position I have my left arm in that I know I’ll regret later. But I can also feel the stocky waitress touch my waist as she brushes past me behind the counter of a diner, a tingly sensation like sharing space with a ghost.

I sit down, still well aware I’m laying. “What’s the cheapest thing you’ve got on the menu?”

She leans on the counter. “A big ol’ plate a’ hash browns, I reckon. Two ninety-five. I can throw a couple eggs on top if you like, for a dollar each.”

I shudder. My stomach is upset. “Maybe just a cup of hot tea.”

“Sure thing, hon’.”

I lay my head down on the cool vinyl countertop, nearly aligning my astral form with my physical one. I close my eyes for a moment, and when I open them again, he’s there. I can’t take my eyes off of him, even to blink, but I couldn’t bear the thought of eye contact either. I don’t want to know his face.

He whips his newspaper in the air as he turns the page. “Hm.”

I’m not sure what section he’s reading. I never touched the newspaper unless it was the comics section. But he reads intently. Something in there has caught his attention. He turns the page toward me.

“You see that?” He says. I squint to look but I just barely can’t read it. Part of me knows whatever news it is is only a figment of my subconscious anyway.

“What time is it?” I ask.

“Silly question.” He responds, and brings the paper back to himself. “It isn’t.”

“It has to be some time, doesn’t it?”

“It has been.”

I still won’t look at his face.

“You didn’t read the article, did you?”

“You didn’t give me much time to look at it.”

“You never read anything I ask you to.” He takes a sip of his coffee. Two red stirrers swirl around in the mug. “It wouldn’t make a difference.”

“Maybe it would if you’d give me a chance.” I take my head from the counter, disorienting myself with misaligned senses. “Hand it here.”

He pulls the page out and hands it over to me. I can see the newsprint on his fingers. I take the paper, careful not to touch his hand.

The letters are hazy, but I swear they’re shaped like words. I run my finger along them, trying to make something of it. But I can’t. I put it down.

“I tried.”

“No you didn’t.”

“How would you know?”

He growls. “I was there.”

“Where?”

“Where it happened. And it happened right here. Don’t you remember?”

I look around me at the clock on the wall, the rotating display case with assorted pies, the Americana decor spread on every surface. He leans back, and behind him I can see out the window across the street to the old grocery store.

“That isn’t there anymore.”

“It might as well be, if you’re not going in.” He takes a syrup dispenser filled with cloudy white liquid and begins pouring it on the counter, forming a river that ends in a waterfall into my lap.

A drip hits my khaki shorts and for a moment I can remember all of it. The tears start pouring out uncontrollably and I fall from the stool to the floor, weeping. He gets up from his seat and stands over me, his face obscured in shadow by the bright lights of the ceiling. He had only one more word to say, and it came from outside my bedroom door.

“Goodbye.”

I woke up in a panic, though I wasn’t truly sleeping. I haven’t been sleeping lately. I don’t remember why.

[ariathelamia]

Speed running learning about myself?

So i ended up starting questioning if i might be plural... which... i won't go into it in THIS post particular because that would be a lot to talk about in just one post.... so i start with the other two things i figured out about myself and was already kind of able to confirm? not through a psychologist but through doing those online tests for one.. and then having a talk with friends and suddenly hit with "Wait we thought you knew!?"

So because of me asking in a very long message on another page (idk if i am allowed to mention where but its round.. and reddish.. and white as a logo...) I was told by some that, it didnt sound much like plurality.. more like adhd... another said yeah it does sound like their pre-plurality phase... but also adhd... so i ended up taking an adhd test.... turns out the results came back as "Highly consistent with ADHD"... while i do know that these self tests are not really made to self diagnose but rather give you an idea you might have it and talk to your therapist, which i am definitely going to do... (this will be an interesting next session)... But some of the things really resonated strongly.. like when i sit still for some time, and have nothing to do stimulate me enough... i end up bopping my legs quickly up and down, or open and close my legs/bop my head to a song that pops up in my head... or i end up walking around the house a lot which... all of these things were very often pointed out by my mom that she HATES when i do that, and keeps telling me to stop, only for me to do it again shortly after... And the other thing i super strongly resonated with in those tests, was the statement "I often miss what is being said to me in conversations" which... lord this happened to me like 3 times already just when typing out the message while also talking to people in a discord call if i am not absolutely focused on the conversation, and to literally any small task, like writing something down, or just scrolling through pictures... I totally tune out conversations... The amount of times i played video games with friends while talking, and i just suddenly hear the sentence "Good she didn't hear" or "oh i think she is not there... Nah she is moving?" is LUDICROUS. So yeah... i could see myself definitely being diagnosed with it from my therapist... So i brought that result to some close friends of mine in a call and told them about it... and got hit with the sentence "Well, at least now you know you got the full package of ADHD and Autism!" My reply was "... i don't have autism?" Which was immediately hit my multiple people going: " Aria?... Aria...." and "I thought you knew!?" (disclaimer: My thought about what autism was is probably really skewed by the show "the good doctor"... which is probably a very extreme version of autism.. or something else mixed in?) Which, i asked them to elaborate.. they took a few moments to collect their thoughts and started listing some things which i could right away relate to several occasions or mannerisms of mine, which i never really thought about... here is a list of things that were brought up.. Sensitivity to sounds: During new years, when out with the family and throwing firecrackers, I am not able to function properly, when i know one of those dynamite shaped ones... or square ones, is about to go off, like i cant look away from where they are thrown, and if i notice one about to go off, i have to hold my ears shut or put in headphones.. Fast opening zippers: No, just no, i have to open my jacket or backpack slowly, cause that sound just makes me shiver. I had to stop playing the game 7 days to die, which otherwise was super enjoyable to me, simply because i just couldn't take the inventory opening sound anymore. Silverware: When emptying the dishwasher... i have to take out the silverware and sort it in slowly one my one, because the clinkering sound makes me start breathing very heavily through my mouth to the point where i am uncontrollably blowing air... and when my mom was in a bit of a hurry and started "helping me" by picking them up fast and putting them in the drawer... i physically cringed away from it with my entire body. Texture Sensitivty

Silk: Don't try getting me into anything silky... i hate it i hate it i hate it. It's itchy, it's scratchy, and i hate how it feels running my fingernails across it... Silk bedsheets are a torture device.. Those holographic cards that change when you turn them? running my fingers across them is disgusting... and hearing someone rubbing their finger nails across them is giving me a physical reaction.. as if they are making ME do that... it's also the sound that just sounds like high pitched sipper sounds!? just like times 10... I also struggle a bit with social queues... like some situations in Roleplays confuse the hell out of me, and that shows in my characters reaction at times where i got the "what the f*ck you on about?" response... Also when i do talk with people in real life, i end up just staring off into the room, and not to the person.... i do look at them from time to time to make sure they know its them i am talking to.. but that never lasts for long before i stare off in the room again because i get very uncomfortable when looking at people and talk/open up to them... i fidget with my fingers, rub my thighs... laugh nervously even if it's a serious topic or i am close to crying... just to lift a bit of that awkward feeling... Or when people open up to me! I do love to lend a ear because i know how much it helps to just have someone listen to you! but when it comes to helping them i usually am hit with the realization that... i just don't know how to deal with that situation... idk what i could say or do a lot of the times.. So yeah... that was my day today... lots of realizations and topics to talk to my therapist about... but I'm happy to finally put a name to my weird actions! Cause before i always thought i was just... different but never knew what made me different. Thank you for your time! (idk how to end this post so... sorry it ends so abruptly...)

[accidentalfanficwriter]

of water and coal; a finnick odair fanfic

Fair warning: I'm not a finnick stan and I don't know all that much about him. It's been awhile since I read the books but I was using AI and got inspired to write something fun.

CHAPTER 1

TW: Mentions of assault/violence

As I sit slumped against a post in this unfamiliar market, I try to remember who I am. I am Lyra Torres, I am 22 years old. I am from District Twelve. But this isn’t District Twelve, it can’t be. I’ve never seen this place before. I wince at a deep pain in my side as I try to breathe. I look down to see my hand covering my waist, I don’t remember why I’m hurting, but when I lift my hand I see a bullet wound. I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale sharply. That’s right, I was shot. There’s blood pooling by my legs, the edges of the puddle fuzzy as it mixes with water. It’s raining, I realize, as water drips from the wood above me. Where am I? My vision is blurred by the rain and I wipe messily at my eyes with the edge of my damp sleeve. I hear footsteps and fear runs through my body. I can’t get up, I can’t move, everything in my body is screaming at me, telling me I’m in danger, but I’m stuck. It feels as if my body weighs a ton. I watch through the rain as a tall figure approaches me. This is it, I tell myself, this is how I die. A familiar face comes into view as the man crouches beside me. I can’t place where I’ve seen him before but I’m certain that I have. He’s speaking to me but I can’t make out his words.

“What?” I ask in confusion, “I can’t understand you.”

The man repeats himself and this time my brain manages to make sense of it, “Are you hurt?”

It takes me a moment to process his words but I nod and look down at my waist, lifting my hand to reveal the wound. I can feel the atmosphere shift as he sees it, but I can’t react.

“What happened?” He asks, his voice is so familiar, “Who hurt you?”

I shake my head, I can’t make sense of anything, I can’t remember, “Someone shot me.”

In my state of delirium, I almost laugh as I point out the obvious, but the man doesn’t seem to think it’s funny. I watch as he glances around for a moment before looking back at me as if he’s trying to place where he’s seen me before.

“Hey, I know you,” he tells me, scooting closer to me and shielding his eyes from the rain, “You’re related to Haymitch, right?”

Oh yes, Haymitch, that sounds familiar. I try to run through my head as quickly as I can, trying to recall how I’m related to Haymitch. 

“He’s my godfather,” I remember, my words are slurred but he seems to understand.

“That’s right, I’ve seen you with him on the news,” the man tells me, he puts his arm around my back and tries to stand up, “Here, let me help you up.”

“No,” I whine, everything hurts and the world is already spinning as he tries to pull me to my feet.

“Yes, you need medical attention,” he insists, effectively pulling me up this time.

As his face comes into view again, I ask, “Are you Haymitch?”

The man laughs for a moment, apparently what I said was humorous, “No, I’m Finnick.”

The name sounds familiar, “Finnick?”

“That’s right, Finnick Odair,” he tells me, pulling me in some unknown direction.

I can barely see two feet in front of me in the state I’m in so I keep my eyes fixed on my savior, then it hits me. Finnick Odair, the victor of the 65th Hunger Games. 

I gasp almost comically, “Finnick? What are you doing in District Twelve?”

“We’re not in District Twelve,” he corrects me, using little effort to drag me forward.

“We’re not?” I ask, dumbfounded, none of this makes any sense, “Where are we?”

He stops walking for a moment and turns to face me, “We’re in District Four, what the hell happened to you?”

Before I can answer I feel nauseous. I must be losing blood. I might be delirious but I know for certain I do not want to throw up on Finnick Odair of all people. But before I even have the chance to lose what little food I might have in my stomach, I pass out. 

I wake up some time later and find myself lying on a cot somewhere I don’t recognize. The room is dark but it smells sterile. I try to sit up but immediately lay back down when I realize how much my side hurts. 

“Yeah, I bet that hurts,” a voice comes from somewhere in the room.

I freeze, terror filling my body as I hear the person stand up and walk over to me. I watch stiffly as Finnick Odair comes into view. There aren’t enough words in the English language to describe how confused I am at this moment. 

“Finnick Odair?” I almost scoff.

“The one and only,” he replies with a sly smile.

I stare up at him for a moment, trying to figure out where the hell I am and why Finnick Odair is standing over me. I’m wracking my brain, but I can’t remember anything, only the basics.

“You look confused,” he points out the obvious, “you don’t remember yesterday?”

I shake my head.

“Try harder,” he pushes, although his words seem harsh, the look in his eyes says otherwise.

I look down at my waist and see the bandage wrapped around it. Slowly, yesterday comes back to me. I remember feeling like I was dying, sitting against some soggy post in another unfamiliar location. I recall the face of Finnick Odair coming into view as he asked me questions. I remember feeling dizzy and nauseous like I was about to throw up. Did I throw up on him? 

My eyes go wide, “Did I throw up on you?”

Finnick visibly tries to hold back a smile at my words and clears his throat, “No, fortunately, you passed out before your body could repel anything.”

Although I’m grateful that I didn’t throw up on him, that doesn’t ease my anxiety one bit.

“Where am I?” I ask him.

He frowns, “I can’t tell you that.”

“What district am I in, Finnick?” I insist, propping myself up on my elbows despite the pain in my side.

He considers his answer for a moment, glancing around the room as if someone could be watching us, before answering, “District Four.”

My face contorts in utter confusion. District Four, how the hell did I end up here? As if predicting my next question, Finnick speaks.

“I don’t know how you got here, I found you in a sketchy part of town bleeding out,” he looks displeased, like the memory genuinely upsets him.

“And you decided to bring me…?” I try once more to get him to reveal where we are, but he simply shakes his head at me.

“Like I said, I can’t tell you,” he reminds me, “Not now.”

I watch as he paces around the room. Only now do I really make out where I am. Even though there’s hardly any light, I can see the room has no windows, only a door on the far side of the room. I try to sit up fully but Finnick holds up a hand.

“Don’t try and sit up,” he says, “You lost a lot of blood.”

I reluctantly lay back down and stare up at the ceiling. There is only one dim fluorescent light on the entire ceiling. 

“Why won’t you tell me where we are?”

“It’s complicated,” he answers, stepping closer to me, “I would if I could, but people are already upset with me for bringing you here as it is.”

I furrow my eyebrows, my head hurts and this whole situation seems to be making it worse.

“So what now?” I ask.

Finnick shrugs and sits on the edge of my bed, “There are two options. One, we knock you out and drop you off in town-”

“I’ll die if you send me back there, a Peacekeeper already tried to kill me once,” I say without realizing.

Finnick almost looks furious, “A Peacekeeper did this to you?”

I now realize I can remember. I vaguely remember stumbling off a train and into the market. I got lost, and then a Peacekeeper cornered me. As the memories flood back to me I feel sick to my stomach.

“Oh god,” I mutter to myself, reaching up to cover my eyes.

“Do you remember what they looked like?” Finnick presses.

I shake my head, “He was wearing a helmet, but I remember his voice.”

“Why the hell would a Peacekeeper shoot an unarmed civilian?” I can hear the anger in his voice, although he knows in his heart the right Peacekeeper would jump at the chance to kill someone for no reason.

“Because I’m not supposed to be here,” I remove my hands from my face, tears building in my eyes, “I’m supposed to be on the train with Haymitch.”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, he only watches me as if he’s waiting for me to continue.

“Let me sit up,” I request.

“No, the doctor said you shouldn’t sit up on your own for a day or so,” Finnick refuses.

“Then help me sit up,” I beg, suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m about to freak out,” I have a wild look in my eyes, it’s all too much.

Finnick opens his mouth to protest but decides against it when he sees my expression. He gingerly helps me sit up and adjust the bed. He seems almost afraid to touch me as if one wrong move will set me off. When I’m finally upright, he’s staring at me expectantly.

“The Victory Tour,” I tell him, taking a deep breath.

“What?” He narrows his eyes.

“I was on the Victory with Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta,” I stare down at my hands blankly, “Haymitch insists on bringing me, I’m all he has left. He refuses to leave me alone when he leaves the District.”

I pause and look up at Finnick, he’s watching me intently.

“How long ago were they here?” I ask, the timeline feels blurry.

“Two days ago,” Finnick replies coldly.

They’re long gone by now, even if Haymitch threw a fit, President Snow wouldn’t let them delay the tour just to find me.

“Two days ago,” I repeat numbly, “I think Haymitch and I got into a fight. It was about something stupid, I’m sure.”

I pull the thin sheet resting on my legs up to my neck as I speak.

“I remember getting drunk. I never drink, I hate what it does to Haymitch,” I confess, “But I was just so upset I couldn’t resist. I think I got off the train right before we were supposed to leave and I got lost. I’ve never visited another District before.”

My stomach churns as I recall what happened next. I’m waiting for Finnick to stop me, to tell me to save it for someone who cares, but he doesn’t. Instead, I find him hanging onto every word.

“He came out of nowhere. He must’ve been following me for blocks. He was so big, bigger than any man I’ve ever seen before,” my eyebrows knit together, “He tried to grab me, he said he’d seen me on TV before. Wanted to know what a ‘pretty little thing’ like me was doing in that part of town. I tried to scream but he put his hand over my mouth so I bit him. Then he shot me.”

I look down at my hands again to find that I’m gripping the sheets so hard my knuckles are turning white, “He must’ve thought I was dead. I don’t think he’s ever shot someone before, he was so spooked.”

Finnick looks as if he’s about to say something but I beat him to it, “Why are you here, Finnick? Why did you save me?”

“Would you rather I let you bleed out in the streets?” He asks in a serious tone.

“Why did you save me?” I repeat.

Finnick simply stares back at me, unsure of what to say. And then I remember.

“What’s the second option?”

“What?” He questions.

“You said I had two options,” I remind him, “What’s the second option?”

He looks hesitant, as he’s worried his next words will upset me. I know from his expression that they will.

“Join the rebellion.”

I almost can’t believe my ears, I want to laugh.

“What?” I challenge.

“You heard me,” there’s not a trace of jest in his voice, “Join the rebellion.”

“If Haymitch found out I joined the revolution because of you, he’d hunt you down and kill you himself,” I almost scoff.

“So you’re content with being a bystander then? One of those ungrateful bastards who’s fine being under the thumb of the capital?” Finnick glares at me, “Don’t you want things to change?”

“How could I not?” I start to feel angry, “Every day I watch as people starve in my district. You don’t know what it’s like in the seam.”

“Then do something about it,” Finnick retorts.

“Don’t you think I want to?” I raise my voice, “Don’t you think I wish there was something I could do? A way for me to stop the games and feed the starving children of my district?”

“If you’re so upset, why are you riding around on the Victor’s train instead of fighting for what’s right?” 

I can’t say I’ve ever wanted to smack Finnick Odair before, and never did I think I would have the opportunity to do so, but I hold back, “Haymitch won’t allow it. Have you talked to him before? He’s not exactly the most flexible person. I can’t sneeze without him knowing. Do you think I enjoy sitting and watching as the districts fall to pieces?”

Finnick looks almost disgusted with me and it makes my blood boil.

“I’m not a victor like you or Katniss. I have no influence,” I growl, “The only reason I’m still alive is because Haymitch is my godfather.”

“So what if he won’t allow it? Stand up for yourself. You’re your own person, not a sheep meant to follow whatever Haymitch says. You have free will, use it,” he looks like he wants to reach out and grab me by my shirt.

“I’m not a sheep,” I say through gritted teeth, “This is the first time I’ve been away from Haymitch since my parents died and I got shot and almost assaulted. What the hell do you expect me to do, strangle a peacekeeper?”

“I want you to join the revolution,” he reiterates.

“Oh I’ll join the revolution, but when the time comes, it’s you that will have to explain my death to Haymitch,” my eyes are like daggers as I stare back at him.

“Is that a threat?” He scoffs, “Are you threatening a victor?”

“No, but Haymitch will,” I reply.

“I think I can handle that old man,” Finnick practically spits, “Now are you in, or not?”

“I’m in, but only if I never have to see you again,” I tell him.

Finnick laughs, “Oh I’m sure that can be arranged.”

And with that, Finnick gets up and leaves the room. The moment the door shuts behind him I begin to scream. I can’t help it as hot, angry tears stream down my cheeks. I so badly want to slam my head into the wall but I can hardly move. Instead, I cry until my head is pounding and I feel like I can’t breathe. Eventually, I fall asleep.