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zegrasdrysdale · 5 months

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[ christmas in michigan ] l. hughes

day four of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Luke Hughes x jack bsf!reader

summary : (Y/N) is forced to get along with Luke when Jack invites her to the Hughes lake house for Christmas

warning(s) : heavy makeout, some sexual content, some angst

author’s note : i have been wracking my brain to write something for luke and i have been waning to write something angsty for the fic marathon so this is how this came to be. enjoy :)

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The last thing (Y/N) wanted to do was spend Christmas at the lake house because she knew he was going to be there too. Then Jack said that he wanted her there and she can never say no to her best friend.

That's how she ended up sitting on a plane from Newark to Detroit after the Devils game between Jack and Luke. It isn't a very long plane ride but she doesn't like how close Luke is sitting to her. She tries to keep all her attention on Jack and tries to ignore Luke, but sometimes the youngest Hughes makes a comment or two because he can't seem to keep his mouth shut when (Y/N) is around.

It's not that she has something against Luke, but it seems like he does.

When he came to Newark after his Michigan season ended last season, he made his presence very known. Luke would interrupt her and Jack's hangouts or invite himself to things that they were doing. He always had a snarky comment when she was around.

(Y/N) has no idea what she did for Luke to act like this when she's around. She's just his brother's best friend. That's all she's been since Jack was drafted in 2019.

When Luke gets up to use the bathroom, she is relieved that she gets a few moments of peace. Jack decides to disrupt that peace though.

"Can you do me a favor for the next few days?" Jack asks. She knows what's coming but she looks over at her best friend. "Can you try to get along with Luke while we're at the house? I don't like when my best friend and brother fight. Makes me feel like I'm caught in the middle."

"Because you are," she replies. Jack raises his eyebrows with an 'are you kidding me' look on his face. "Fine. You owe me big time. Maybe get your little brother on the same page too. He's the one that has an issue with me. I have nothing against Luke but he has some vendetta against me when I did nothing wrong."

Before Jack can say anything else, Luke sits back down in his aisle seat. "What are we talking about?" he questions as he looks between his older brother and (Y/N).

"Nothing that concerns you," she retorts.

Luke smiles and asks, "Then why did I hear my name come out of your mouth? Miss me that much when I went to pee?"

"In your dreams, Baby Hughes," she replies. (Y/N) knows he hates being called 'Baby Hughes'.

He rolls his eyes and looks at something on his phone. He puts in his AirPods and she feels a sense of peace.

It doesn’t last very long because as soon as the plane lands at a little past one in the morning, Luke practically pushes (Y/N) off the plane.

She can’t wait to go back home to Newark.

Jack slowly drives them to the lake house because of the layer of snow and ice on the ground. (Y/N) fights Luke for the passenger seat and loses. She has to squeeze in the back seat with a bunch of bags and she is not happy at all.

Maybe she does have something against Luke Hughes. It isn’t just because he’s Jack’s annoying younger brother either. Who lets a guest sit in the backseat with three heavily packed bags because the trunk is filled with hockey gear?

Luke. That’s who.

The lake house is dark when Jack, Luke, and (Y/N) pull up. She knows that Jim and Ellen will be getting in later with Quinn since his game just ended a little bit ago. Tonight, it’s just the three of them in this house.

Jack better get his referee shirt out because it’s going to be a long few hours until Quinn, Ellen, and Jim get in.

As predicted, Luke just grabs his things and goes to his room. (Y/N) is stuck with Jack outside in the snow. She sighs and looks at the middle Hughes.

“What is his fucking problem?” (Y/N) mutters under her breath. “He’s ridiculous.”

She pulls her bag out of the car and Jack says, “He does this every time. He grabs his own stuff and leaves us out to dry. Quinn and I don’t like it either but we deal with it.”

With a light sigh, (Y/N) follows Jack into the house. The door closes behind them and the long few days begins.

“So, the guest bedroom is upstairs across from Luke’s room,” Jack tells her. She opens her mouth to object but Jack keeps talking before she gets the chance to. “I’m aware that sucks for you and I’m sorry. I know being here is the last thing you want to do because Luke is here with his stupid vendetta against you but I want my best friend here. If he causes such a problem for you, can you try to ignore him? I don’t want the two of you to fight.”

A frown forms on her face because she can tell how frustrated Jack is getting with the two of them. The last thing she wants is to upset Jack or make him pick sides between his younger brother and best friend.

“I’ll go talk to him when I’m settled, okay?” (Y/N) tells him. “Maybe you can go get food and drinks while I do that just in case a fight breaks out. I don’t want you to get in the middle.”

Jack nods and the frown on her lips is replaced with a smile. (Y/N) walks up the stairs and down the hallway to her temporary bedroom.

A door closes down the hall so she assumes Jack is in his room. Before she can close her door to unpack, she hears Luke’s voice coming from his room. A very curious (Y/N) presses her ear to Luke’s door.

“… what I’m going to do, Rut,” he’s saying when she begins listening in. He probably on the phone and Rutger McGroarty is most likely on the other side of the line. “What am I supposed to do? She has something against me when I want to pin her against something, dude. It's killing me that she's right across the hallway right now and I can't go over there and just fuck her into that mattress.”

Her eyes widen when she realizes that he’s talking about her. Quickly, she retreats across the hall and shuts her door as quietly as she can so she doesn’t alarm Luke to the fact that she heard what he said. She leans against the door with a sigh.

Confusion floods her body. If Luke wants to fuck her then why does he constantly act like she’s this a person when he can just … fuck her? He constantly pushes her away or says something that annoys her.

She isn’t blind. He’s atttactive and she wouldn’t be totally against it. It just never occurred to her that he would want to sleep with her considering the way he acts when she’s around. The way he’d completely cover her since he is so big and she’s so tiny. How he could probably get her to come with just-

A door shutting downstairs brings her out of her head before that thought could get away from her. She blinks a few times when she realizes what she was about to think about. She hears a car pull out of the driveway and watches the lights disappear down the street.

Frustration floods her entire body when she can't understand why Luke keeps acting like this when he feels completely different. She charges across the hallway to get answers.

(Y/N) pounds on Luke’s bedroom door. “Luke Hughes!” she shouts. “Open the door.” She doesn’t care if he’s still on the phone with Rutger.

"I'm on the phone," he calls back.

She pushes open the door and her eyes fall on Luke, who lays on his bed. "You are the most confusing and irritating person I think I have ever met," she spits at him. He looks at her with wide eyes when she bursts into the room. "I mean, why can't you just man up and tell me exactly how you feel instead of treating me like shit whenever you're around me? It's exhausting."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You're not quiet when you talk on the phone," she tells him. "I heard you on the phone with Rutger when I came upstairs to unpack." She watches his jaw drop and eyes practically pop out of his head. "Yeah. I heard what you said to him. Something about how you think I have something against you, when I don't by the way. What else did I hear you say? About how you wish you could've come across the hallway and fucked me into the mattress. Yeah. I think that's what I heard."

Luke quickly hangs up the phone and sits up. "Who said I was talking about you?" he questions.

"I'm the only one across the hallway from you, dumbass," she retorts. She runs her fingers through her hair with a deep sigh as soon begins to get out of bed. "If you want to fuck me, then tell me. Be a big boy and put on your big boy pants and-"

As she talks, Luke stomps over and cuts her off by crashing his lips to her in a rough kiss. His hand is on the back of her neck and his fingers curl into her hair so she doesn't go anywhere.

It's a wet and filthy kiss from the beginning, but it catches her off guard so she has to push herself away from him so she can wrap her head around what just happened. She doesn’t get very far because of his hand on the back of her neck.

Fear flashes in Luke's eyes for a split second, but she is so close that she was able to see it. She feels guilty that she pushed him away like that. “If you didn’t want me to do that, I’m sor-”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” she snaps. She takes a sharp breath. “Just give me a second, okay?”

He nods and loosens his grip in her hair so she can back away if she wants. She doesn’t move though.

She stares up at him and thinks about how bad of an idea this would be. Sleeping with her best friend’s younger brother is a terrible idea, especially when Luke has been nothing but rude and annoying toward her.

That just means that no one will probably know what has happened between them.

(Y/N) licks her bottom lip before she gets on her toes to bring their lips together in another hot kiss. Luke seems surprised by this kiss but he does hesitate in returning it.

Her heart races in her chest. This was the last thing she thought would ever happen between them.

The two of them have been at each other’s throats for years. Now they’re kissing like it’s what they’ve wanted to do the entire time.

Maybe it has been the entire time for Luke. She can’t say that she hasn’t had a thought here or there about getting with the youngest Hughes brother. If anything to break the obvious tension between them.

Before she realizes what she’s doing, (Y/N) grasps at the t-shirt Luke is wearing. She pulls him flush against her body and she feels something poke her upper thigh. A small smile forms on her lips.

“You got a hot dog in your pocket or something?” she asks between kisses.

“Shut up,” Luke snaps. “I don’t carry food in my pocket, you asshole.”

“Then you really must’ve wanted me.”

“You have no idea.”

Those words cause her heart to jump in her chest while Luke leans down and picks her up. He’s nearly a foot taller than her so it can’t be very comfortable for him to kiss her. She wraps her legs around his waist.

She attaches her lips to his jaw and carefully kisses the sensitive skin. “You better not leave a mark,” Luke warns her. “I don’t want to explain to my brothers that you turned into a vampire or something.”

To spite him, (Y/N) softly nips at his jaw. Luke turns and drops her on the mattress. She stares up and finds that his swollen lips and wide does just does something for her.

“Get down here, Hughes,” she tells him. “Need you.”

Almost like he was waiting for her to say that, Luke crawls into the bed and hovers over her. Their lips reattach in a filthy kiss that almost causes her to plead for more.

He pulls away and looks down at her. She finds herself chasing his lips. “You’re okay with this?” Luke asks. “I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you or anything.”

“Luke, if you don’t touch me in the next five seconds, I’m going to get out of your bed and go across the hall to do it myself,” she tells him. “Fuck me like you hate me.”

A sly smirk forms on his face and she knows she’s in for it until Jack gets back.

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Three orgasms in less than two hours had to be some kind of record. Her body still shakes as Luke cleans her up. She’s completely spent.

He definitely fucked her like he hated her. She’s worried that she might not be able to walk in the morning. The only reason there wasn’t a fourth orgasm was because she heard Jack pull into the driveway.

“If you need to stay for a few minutes, you can,” Luke tells her. “I can go distract Jack until you leave.”

She nods and Luke begins to get dressed. He throws on the clothes he wore when he got here. Her eyes stay on him for a second before she says, “We need to talk about this, Luke. I don’t want this to turn into a fight that we can’t get past.”

Luke looks over as she sits up and secures the blankets under her arms. The tension has broken between them and she doesn’t want something to form after this.

He comes over to her side of the bed that she’s occupying. It catches her very off guard when he leans down and presses a soft yet chaste kiss to her already swollen lips. She raises her eyebrows and looks up at him. She probably looks very confused.

“Hope that explains how I feel,” he tells her as he stands back up. “We’ll talk about it, but right now you need to get across the hall before Jack catches you naked in my bed. I’m not sure I’m ready to explain this to him. I’m sure you aren’t either.”

She shakes her head. “Come across the hall tonight,” she suggests. “We can talk then, yeah?”

Luke smiles and nods before he leaves her alone. There are footsteps on the stairs and voices coming from the living room. (Y/N) sighs and falls back against the pillow that’s under her head.

It would be a lie if she thought that Luke didn’t rock her entire world for the last two hours. He absolutely did, and she wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again. Maybe not as rough next time.

Very slowly, (Y/N) begins to get dressed. She’s shaky on her legs but she manages to get her clothes in without falling over.

Much to her luck, Jack and Luke are walking down the hallway when she leaves Luke’s room. Jack freezes when he sees her. She forces a smile as she looks between the two Hughes boys. “Hi.”

Jack looks up at his brother. “You hurt her and I will send Nico after you,” he tells Luke. “I swear to God, Luke.”

Her eyes widen and a smile forms on Luke’s lips. Jack definitely put two and two together because of how red Luke’s lips are and the fact that she is walking out of Luke’s room.

Walking is a stretch though. Limping is more like it.

“I’ll never hurt her,” Luke replies. “Again.” He looks at a nervous (Y/N) standing in front of Luke’s room. “I’d kick myself if I ever hurt her.”

The nervousness she was feeling melts away and she smiles.

Christmas in Michigan no longer sounds like the worst thing in the world.

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aperrywilliams · 1 year

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Pandora's Box II (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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Author Masterlist / Author Taglist / Part I

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader doesn't know what to think after the kiss between Spencer and Cat. Insecurities about their marriage surface in both Reader and Spencer. How severe will the consequences of what Cat did be?

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Most of Spencer's traumas are only mentioned (Hankel, Dilaudid, Diana's illness, etc.). Angst and a lot of inner thoughts (I mean it: a lot). But not despair, my friends, happy ending.

A/N: Hello! Here is part two of Pandora's Box. Thanks a lot for all your comments, likes, and reblogs on part I.

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Spencer's POV

Cat did it again. No. Scratch that. I did it again.

I'm still seeing her eyes full of betrayal. God, how did I let this happen? How I was not able to think of something else to do. I'm so stupid!

I thought about running after her to stop her and convince her to go home with me. But I know (Y/N), and it would have been worse to insist when it was clear that she was shocked and hurt.

That leads me to now be in our shared bed, staring at the ceiling as I sink into my own mortification. Emily and JJ called me several times during the night, but I didn't feel like talking to anyone. I just texted them that (Y/N) was fine, but I screwed it up, and she hated me now. I don't know why I thought that would stop the calls. It was the opposite, but I decided to ignore my phone from there. I knew that (Y/N) would not call or text me either. Besides her getting rid of her cell phone, I was the last person she wanted to talk to.

How do I fix this?

The more I thought about it, the more complicated it became. We were not only talking about me kissing Cat Adams. It was more than that. And even if (Y/N) didn't go further saying how bad she was feeling, she slipped a hint. And it hurt. It hurt to know I was hurting her. Maybe Cat was right. I was not made to have a normal life and be loved like that. Perhaps I didn't deserve her.

Spencer, stop it! Don't fall into Cat's game. She wanted this to happen. She wanted to ruin your marriage, I repeated myself.

The funny thing is maybe I ruined it first.

Tossing and turning, I couldn't find a way to fall asleep. That brought me to the months I spent in jail when I barely slept an hour in a row. Endless nights were I missed (Y/N) 's body next to me. Nights where I swore to myself that if I made it out of there, I wouldn't waste another minute without making her my wife. So I did it. The very day I was released from Milburn, I got down on one knee and proposed to her. No ring involved, just a promise to spend the rest of my life with her, loving her and raising a family.

Two years since that, and now I think about the things I promised and what I have fulfilled. I feel terrible realizing that I have failed her.

Tiredness got me at some point, but my brain didn't stop working. I dream about (Y/N). It was a sweet dream that turned into a nightmare when she told me it was over. That ours was over.

I woke up sweating and screaming.

I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let my incompetence makes me lose the best thing that had happened to me in life.

After showering and getting dressed early in the morning, I went to our habitual coffee shop and bought her favorite coffee and donut. I stopped by her dad's and left a bag with the treats and a note. A tiny gesture compared to the mess I had made, but I needed to tell her I was there even if she didn't want to see me.

Reader's POV

I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't.

After explaining the previous day's chaos to my dad - partially though, because I didn't want to give in to the embarrassing details - he let me stay in my old bedroom.

Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Spencer kissing that psycho over and over again.

I could see how his hands held her head, his eyes closed, lost in the sensation. Their lips moving in unison. His body pressed against hers.

Has he ever kissed me like that? Yes. He has. That is precisely the way I liked to be kissed.

When we started dating, Spencer was so shy at first, but he freed all the passion within him over time. I always wished to be the only one to see and feel him like that. And I really thought I would be the only one with that privilege. It seems I was wrong.

Why does it hurt so much? I mean, Spencer wouldn't do that to me, much less with that crazy bitch, right? I could bet he did not even want to do it.

Maybe it's the fact that there's a fucking Jiminy Cricket in my ear telling me things between Spencer and I aren't going well, and this shit is another proof that there will always be something interfering between us.

It terrifies me to think this could lead to the end of us, but I can't deny the idea has been on my mind for a while. It's true that we have never talked about it. It's true I have tried to deny that Spencer's absence affects me more than I let on. Has he noticed anyway? I'm afraid to know.

The next morning when I got to the kitchen, I saw my dad making coffee. Over the counter was a paper bag with my name written on it. It's Spencer's. I would recognize that handwriting anywhere.

"You don't have to open it," my dad told me, sensing the internal debate in my head. "I just brought it inside so you can decide if you want to do it or not."

It wasn't the only decision I needed to make, though.

Curiosity got the best of me. Inside the bag was my favorite coffee and donut. Of course Spencer knew it. Tucked in the coffee cup holder was a note.

'My love. Don't think this is me hoping that with just a coffee and a donut, you would forgive me. It is just a way to tell you I'm thinking of you. We have so much to talk about, but I won't push you to do it until you're ready. Please, only remember that I'm here, and I love you. Always yours, SR.'

Tears clouded my vision. I love him. That's not in discussion. But to be with someone is more than to feel love. It's about giving and receiving. It's about comprehending and being comprehended. It's partnership and complicity, things that have been away from us for a while. I will not blame Spencer for that because I have much to do with it. I should have said something. Is it too late now?

I took the lid off and sipped the coffee. I was thinking of him too.

Spencer's POV

Three days. The longest days of my life. Am I overstating? I don't think so. Because even if we had been apart for longer than three days, these circumstances made it worse.

The anxiety was killing me. Those days I went to work by inertia, unable to concentrate or be useful in any way. It was hard not to go over the last few months in my head. The signs, the unsaid things. The looks of disappointment when at any moment, the phone rang, and I had to leave.

Prentiss caught me deep in thought that afternoon.

"You okay?"

"Uh - yeah. I just got distracted. Sorry," I apologized. Emily shook her head and sat beside me.

"We both know it is more than that. Do you want to talk about it?"

I sighed, leaning back in the chair. I had the question on the tip of my tongue.

"Do you think fifteen years is a long time?"

Emily raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher the question's implication, but I knew she understood why I was asking.

"Well, I guess it depends on what you compare to," she ventured with a reassuring smile.

"I mean, doing this job. I had spent my whole adult life in the BAU. And don't get me wrong, I love my job-" I trailed off.

"But?"

"I love (Y/N) too, and I'm not good enough conciliating this job with my marriage. I can't make it work as JJ does," I confessed.

"If it is the case, having some time off should work to return some balance, but something tells me it's not the biggest problem," Emily asserted. Of course she did. She knew me better: it was more than the lack of time.

I chuckled bitterly.

"We have been only married for two years, and I feel I have failed her too much already. I mean, I was the one who said I needed to slow down after everything that had happened in Milburn. (Y/N) has been by my side in so many hard times. She was the first one I told about my addiction. She was there after the Anthrax episode. She took care of me when I got shot in Texas. I ran to her when they told me about my mom's Alzheimer's. Then jail happened. What else would she have to put up with? JJ's confession and being kidnapped by a cult. And now Cat again? Fuck, she saw me kissing her! The same woman who framed me for murder. How twisted is it?"

"She loves you too much," Emily pointed, trying to get me out of my rabbit hole.

"And I love her, but I always find a way to show otherwise, uh?" I mocked myself. I really felt like I was screwing up over and over.

"Spencer, none of those things have been your fault."

And maybe Prentiss was right. That didn't exempt me from my blindness, though.

"But it's been enough to have done something about it. Emily, I couldn't bear to lose her."

I could feel the lump forming in my throat.

"Spencer, she knows you love her. She married you for who you are. You just told me she has been with you in the toughest moments. You won't lose her."

How can she be so sure? I knew things never last long. I have seen people leaving me before.

"You know? It breaks my heart when I have to leave every time. (Y/N) always says she understands my job and never has demanded something from me. Still, I know she worries as hell every time I'm in the field, and I know there have been moments when she needed me, and I couldn't be there for her. I'm her husband! I promised to be there for her! Having more time could help, yeah, but I'm tired of this rhythm. I'm tired of being on the tightrope. I'm tired of the Tobias Hankels, the Cat Adams, the Mr. Scratchs-"

I had to stop my rant because I got out of breath.

"Well, if this is the matter, I think fifteen years is a long time then," Emily told me with a knowing look, patting my shoulder.

As a cue, my phone got a text: 'Are you in town? Can we talk?'

Reader's POV

Not two minutes had passed since I sent the text, and Spencer had answered, asking me when and where we would meet.

I figured it would be a complicated conversation, so I suggested it be in our apartment after work that day.

It's not like I wanted to torture Spencer for three days before to talk to him, but the events with Cat triggered a series of thoughts I didn't want to admit before. And the truth is, I wasn't sure how to deal with this. In fact, standing in front of the door and about to open it, I'm still not entirely sure what to say, just sure we can't keep putting this conversation off.

"Hi," Spencer said when he saw me. He was still in his work attire; only the tie was missing.

I returned a tight-lipped smile, stepping into the apartment.

I turned after closing the door, and Spencer just stood there, fidgeting with his hands. He was nervous, and so did I.

"Coffee?" He offered. I shook my head.

"No, thank you."

"O-okay," he mumbled, moving to the living room and gesturing to the couch for us to sit on.

Now we were both seated, maintaining a safer distance between us. Someone needed to break the silence. Spencer cleared his throat before speaking.

"About the kiss, (Y/N), I'm so sorry-" I cut him off.

"Spencer, not that yet. You need to start telling me what happened. It still confuses me how we ended in your old apartment with Cat Adams there."

Spencer nodded and recalled the events of that day: since the moment Penelope called him when we were at the coffee shop to him and Cat at the threshold, kissing.

After hearing the whole story, I couldn't understand how someone could set up something so elaborate to annoy someone else. Well, I don't know why I should be surprised; we were talking about Cat Adams, after all.

"Okay. So you thought a family and I were in danger. And she demanded a kiss. And you thought that would help," I filled. Spencer sighed, looking at his hands on his lap.

"Honestly? I didn't think anything. I felt trapped and knew I had no leverage on her. The opposite, actually. She was in control. I let her have me at her mercy," he confessed.

Spencer at Cat's mercy. Well, it wasn't the first time.

"You didn't seem troubled kissing her," I said bitterly. "I know it sounds childish, but you haven't kissed me like that in what? Months? It felt like I was nothing in your life, Spencer. It was like I didn't even exist and was watching a movie."

My voice cracked a bit while saying those words. Even imagining that I might not exist to Spencer made my stomach churn. It was worse to think I had already been losing him for a while or that perhaps he was never mine.

"(Y/N), that's not true. I -" Spencer tried to rebut quickly. I could feel the guilt in him.

"Spencer, it's okay. I can understand you were under pressure. But it was the way I felt. What would you think if your wife made out with the person who made her life a living hell for a long time?" It was a rhetorical question, though, because I would never do that to him.

"I know. And you might not believe me, but I was thinking of you. You were in my mind at that moment. Cat told me to do it as if she were you," he acknowledged. That didn't make me feel better. I let him know that.

"And you complied. That's the thing, Spencer. It's not the kiss itself; it's the fact you did what she told you. Again."

Spencer averted his gaze from me. He was embarrassed, and I hated being responsible for doing that, but he needed to know. I was done keeping things to myself.

"That makes me realize you're still caught up in her twisted game. Cat will never stop tormenting you, and I don't know what else I can do to help you. And it hurts me because I feel I'm not enough, Spencer. I'm not enough to really be by your side and be who you need."

Treacherous tears began to run down my cheeks. That was the admission I didn't want to reveal. After all these years, I thought, at some point, I could be in tune with Spencer's life. That's why I never said anything. I yet harbored the hope of living up to his expectations all this time.

"Don't say that! It's not true!" He argued, scooting closer to me on the couch, no longer afraid of proximity. "You are everything and more that I have ever needed and wanted. God. I love you, (Y/N). If anything, it's me who feels not worthy of your love. And I'm sorry, you are the most important person in my life, and I haven't shown you that."

"Then why do I feel then we are falling apart, Spencer? It's me imagining things?"

Spencer shook his head, a tentative hand reaching mine. I doubted for a second, but I welcomed his touch.

"It's my fault you're feeling this way. Believe me; you didn't do anything wrong."

His fingers stroking my hand resembled the way his touch always comforted me. In other circumstances, I would have believed nothing had changed between us.

"Are you sure? It's like we're becoming a couple of strangers. And I cannot understand if something about me bothers you or if I am simply indifferent to you. You don't trust me the way you used to."

I retracted my hand to protect myself from the pain it would surely follow when Spencer acknowledged I wasn't the person he wanted anymore.

"I know I have been pushing you away, but it's not because I didn't trust you. It's just I have been putting so many of my problems over your shoulders that I didn't want to overwhelm you. I'm sorry for not being honest with you," Spencer said, maintaining eye contact as if he wanted to imprint his apology on me. My lips quivered, and I was doing everything to not cry.

"Spencer, I'm your wife. It is supposed we lean into each other!" I complained. How was it possible he still did not understand he is not a damaged good and deserves understanding and support.

"And you always have been there for me. But what has happened the times that you have needed me? I am away most of the time, which is unfair to you. I'm your husband, and I should have been here."

His voice broke at the end. And it hurt me because that has happened more than once, but I decided not to say anything before.

"Spencer, I knew your job when we married," I reminded him. It was the truth. I knew what I had signed for. Spencer shook his head nevertheless, blinking back tears.

"That doesn't mean I don't do anything about it. I just let it pass. And it was wrong. You were uncomfortable enough to tell me you were worried or disappointed because of my job."

I looked away as I listened to Spencer describe my behavior over the past few months. It was hard to admit that I feared what it would mean to us if we discussed it. It seemed childish, perhaps, but like a scared child, I didn't want to feel vulnerable, saying it affected me.

"But it's what you do. It's your life. You chose to be a profiler, and you save people every day."

That was far more important, wasn't it?

"But I chose you too. And you are part of my life too." Now he had hunched before me, gently placing his hands on my knees. "Do you remember what I told you when I proposed?" He asked, smiling fondly.

Of course I remembered. After living apart for three months because Spencer was in jail, the moment of our reunion was one of the most emotional things I have experienced.

"Besides telling me you loved and wanted to marry me?" I replied - a blush creeping my face at the memory.

"Yeah, that too. I told you I wanted everything with you. I told you I didn't want to spend another minute without you. You make me whole and feel alive (Y/N). That's far more important than catching monsters and consuming my life for them."

Grabbing one of my hands, he brought it to his lips, planting a loving kiss. His gaze never left mine, and I could feel like my heart skipped a bit.

"What do you mean?" I asked in a whisper. He returned a smile, tucking a hair strand behind my ear.

"That I'm done. Fifteen years is more than enough, and if this job continues cracking the good things in my life, I don't want it."

I wondered if I was listening wrong or if my mind was playing tricks on me. I needed clarification.

"What? Are you saying-" Spencer cut me off, nodding his head.

"There are so many things we dreamed of doing together. Do you recall our plan to stay a whole winter in a cabin in the woods? Or the trip to Greece? The idea of moving to the suburbs?"

"Do you still remember all that?" I asked in disbelief. That seemed a lifetime ago. We had so many plans and ideas, but I thought this would only form part of an unfulfilled desire, of our youthful and innocent desire to achieve something different from what we were used to. I often felt those plans were a way of escaping from our daily life full of pain, ghosts, and fears.

"Of course I do! And it's not because I have an eidetic memory. If I didn't, I would remember it anyway because I still want those things. With you."

Stroking my cheek with his palm, Spencer looked at me intensely as he didn't want to miss any of my microexpressions. I felt bare before him, but it didn't feel odd or wrong. If anything, it felt like he was seeing into my heart and soul. I have missed that.

"Spencer, you don't have to. You are a profiler, and you save lives. Your life has been the BAU," I reminded him. I didn't want him to be doing this just because we were in a rough patch and for it to be something he would regret for the rest of his life.

"It has been, but I don't want it to continue to be. It's a job (Y/N). One that has given me a lot of satisfaction but also a lot of pain and has consumed me. I want that to change. I want us to be able to make plans and stick to them. I want that family we talk about so much. Sure, if it's something you still want," he pointed out carefully. My eyes widened.

"You say, kids?" Spencer nodded eagerly.

"Yes. Kids. Little you's and me's running around in our new house. Whom I want to rock to make them sleep, who I want to teach them things, take them to the park, and play with them," Spencer enthusiastically described. It had been a long time since I had seen him that way. I couldn't stop my lips from forming a smile. "Do you still want that?" His excitement changed to the expectation to know my answer.

"Yes, I do," I acknowledged, my eyes filling with tears at the thought that this could be a reality one day. Spencer beamed.

"Then let's have the rest of our lives like we want them to be," he offered. It was like we were saying our vows, like the day we married.

"Are you sure? Spencer, I don't want you to feel like you have-" Before I could say anything else, Spencer gently placed a finger over my lips.

"Hey. It's been a long time since I was so sure about anything. Baby, I love you. I want us, always. Will you accept this fool man, who is madly in love with you, as your husband again?"

His eyes were full of hope, illuminated by the glow of the lighted lamp in the living room. The man hunched before me was the love of my life. The man I chose to spend the rest of my days with. I could feel the sincerity in his gaze, the transparency of the shared longing that made me fall for him years ago.

"I do," I whispered, leaning down and tenderly cupping his cheeks. "May I kiss the husband?" Spencer chuckled, nodding and leaning forward until our lips met in a passionate kiss. Spencer's hands moved up to hold the back of my head as my arms flew to the back of his neck - our lips molding like they were meant to be. The time stopped, and nothing else mattered. I was there with him, and he was there with me.

That kiss sealed our complicity and love's declaration. A kiss that Cat Adams would never have the privilege of experiencing despite the many Pandora's boxes she tried to open.

------------------

Spencer Reid’s Taglist (some of them don't work): @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @thebloomingeagle @pauline5525mgg @maltamurdock @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @miaxx03 @leahblackk @missabsey

Pandora's Box Taglist (some of them don't work): @isisjen @marimorena06 @starlightskiss @wittlewowa @ladyofhellhounds @blogs-imagines-fanctionstories @logibearhockey1 @flowersownme @callsignwidow @regulus-black-223048 @l0v3e1i @lovejules888

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds #pandora's box #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid fanfictions

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 8 months

Note

I got this Yandere imagine that's based on The Heathers from the Heathers musical:

Honestly never told anyone about this before but this fandom does need more appreciation

So we got Darling who's meek and shy,but she's smart and overall a good student, though she can't say she hates the jocks,she would rather not associate with them. Until the main Jocks trio in the school took notice of her,specifically their leader,Hunter

Let's say Hunter is a dominant man,he just suddenly show up more in front of her after she helped him with a school project

Sure he thinks nerds are boring but Darling is an exception,like she's a introverted,unsociable girl but she takes no shit from others

Hunter thinks Darling is very cute and she needed a makeover~

After the makeover, Darling did like her new look,it got some guys to catcall her which is annoying but it wasn't that bad. She still didn't like the jocks much,she only hanged out with Hunter afterwards bcuz of the favour

However,Hunter started to get more touchy, putting his arm on her shoulder or her waist,she even heard the rumors of her being his girlfriend. She decided to avoid Hunter so as not to take it any further

Hunter didn't like it at all, why is she walking to another guy and talk to him when she should've gotten to him like the good girl she is?!!! She shouldn't talk to some stupid unimportant guys!!!

Hunter is rich and famous,his family owns a big company and he's the future CEO. As his future wife,she should get close to him instead of other guys

He couldn't bare the obvious intentional ignorance towards him so one day he just dragged her into a classroom and snapped at her

He said how she belongs to him and she shouldn't even think of leaving him,she won't escape even when they graduate and go to college, because he will attend as the same college as hers. Things got sexually heated there, I'll leave that part to you

Let's just say afterwards,Darling has to be the obedient girlfriend to Hunter. He even force her to sit on his laps right in the school cafeteria to show up his good little honey and no guys should lay hands on her cuz she's his

Sorry, this took so long to answer. I’m out of school for Labor Day weekend.

All characters in my works are 18+

TW: Noncon, stalking, dubcon, catcalling, sexual harassment

Oh God, not again. Here they come.

It was only the third month of school, and everything was going great so far. You were getting A's and even joined the local majorette team. That's when everything went downhill. For some reason, Heath and Henry were at the town's Halloween festival. The best friends of Hunter McClaire. The best football player in school. They were also the best quarterbacks in school. You were on the angel side of the team, and your white uniform glittered in the moonlight. Not only that, but the white boots helped add to your dance routine. You were squatting down, preparing to do a death drop, and then you saw Heath and Henry. Their smiles made you sick. You continued the routine as usual and quickly walked away once finished. You tried to avoid them, but they stopped you as you walked home.

"Hey, Angel! Where are you going?" Heath catcalled, following close behind you.

"Home," You hissed, walking faster.

"Oh, don't be like that. We enjoyed the performance. I wish you showed more of that ass around the school. I honestly didn't think you had any good qualities besides your brain," Henry commented, making you growl.

"Listen, jackass! Leave me alone before I rip your nutsacks out!" You yelled, finally facing them.

"Ok! Ok! Ok! We'll leave you, nerd girl," Heath says, stopping at the sidewalk to watch you walk away.

They focused on your butt and smirked.

"God, I wish I could tap that ass," Henry murmured, hiding his boner.

It only got worse when you went to school after that. Hunter was there asking for your help on a history project.

"Look, if this is something Heath and Henry told you, please don't tell anyone. I just want to stay out of the spotlight and graduate," You said, trying to walk away from Hunter.

"Uh, they haven't told me anything like that. Anyway, I came to ask for help on my 20th-century history project. I got assigned the topic of fashion, and Henry and Heath said you might be able to help," Hunter said, sitting next to you.

"Fine, I'll help you," You begrudgingly agreed, tying your hair up.

For two nights, the two of you worked on Hunter's project. When he turned it in, he got an A+ and even brought his grade in history class a couple of points. As a thank you, Hunter gave you a makeover. You thought you looked fine, but you'll accept the spa treatment and new clothes any day. Wearing the jeans that hugged your ass and the lace corset top to school earned you unwanted remarks from other students. But it wasn't that bad.

You went about your school day and made friends with Hunter. Surprisingly, Hunter and you got along pretty well. You didn't like Hunter's friends. But you didn't hate them either. After a week, Hunter started to get more touchy. His hands roamed your back, his arm always around your shoulder. It even got to the point where rumors were swirling around that you were dating. You couldn't deal with it anymore, so you decided to avoid Hunter for a while, which is how you got into this current predicament.

"Hey," Hunter greets, sitting next to you at lunch.

You ignore him and continue eating your food.

"Why are you ignoring me? What did I do?" Hunter says, his arm around your waist. "Is it because you didn't like the panties I set you? They seemed like your style."

You didn't say anything, but Henry puts a hand on your thigh to make you pay attention to Hunter. His thigh moves towards your crotch, and you pack up your stuff. You get up, throw your tray away, and leave for your next class. You did the same routine of avoiding Hunter and his friends for the next two weeks.

"Charles, are you ready for the next book club?" You ask your tall, freckle-faced, white, black-haired friend.

"You bet! I'm so glad you joined! Are you sure you can handle it while being on the majorette team?" Charles asks, closing his locker.

"I'll be fine. Besides, my practice starts at 6 pm. Book club should be over by then," You respond, smiling at Charles.

"Cool! I'll see you later!" Charles exclaims, hugging you.

You reciprocate the hug and wave goodbye to Charles. Unbeknownst to you, a furious Hunter is watching you.

"Damn, dude! You're practically breaking the wall," Henry laughs, looking at his friend.

"Why is she even talking to him?! Sure, she's a nerd, but she's not fucking boring like the rest of them! Not only that, but it's Charles! The dude who can't even throw a dodgeball straight! Why talk to him of all people!" Hunter rants, punching the wall and glaring at you.

"You need to do something, Hunter. Soon enough, she'll be spending all her time with him and none with you," Heath comments, looking at your smile.

"You're right. I'll show her I'm the right choice. She'll have no choice but to see it," Hunter replies, secretly following after you.

You walk by an empty classroom and get pushed inside. You fall to the floor and hear the door lock.

"Don't even try to scream for help. Heath and Henry gave me the keys and are currently erasing the security footage," Hunter says, twirling the keys around his index fingers.

"Hunter, what the hell?" You yell, rubbing your butt and standing up.

Hunter picks you up and places you on top of a desk. He strokes your cheek and puts a strand of hair behind your ear. Hunter suddenly roughly kisses you and holds your body still. You try to get away, but Hunter is too strong. He grabs your hair and forces you to bend over onto the desk.

"Hunter, what are you doing?" You scream, squirming in his hold.

"You need to understand. You're mine!" Hunter growls, fiercely spanking your ass. "Always mine! You! Belong! To! Me"

"Oh! Ouch! Aw!" You groan between each spanking.

Hunter suddenly flips you over and lets go of your hair.

"Strip. Now," Hunter commands, pulling out his dick.

"I-"

"NOW!"

You whimper and slowly strip your clothes.

"Now then, you'll strip a piece of clothing for every sentence I say. You're lucky I'm taking it easy on you and speaking slowly. Got that?"

You nod your head, but this only irritates Hunter more.

"I need verbal confirmation," Hunter barks, grabbing a ruler and slamming it on the teacher's desk.

"Yes, Hunter!" You squeal, trying not to collapse to the floor.

"Good."

Hunter pulls up a chair and sits in while stroking his cock.

"Now, let's begin. You are my girlfriend, and you belong to me.”

You take off your shirt.

"Don't even think of leaving me because we'll always be together! Even during college when we go to the best Ivy League school! And don't even try to apply to some small liberal arts school because we both know we can do better!"

You quickly take off your bra and shorts.

"I'm rich. I'll inherit my father's company and become CEO. I'll take care of you as my future wife," Hunter finishes, watching you strip your panties, socks, and shoes. "Come closer. I need to teach you how to serve me."

You walk to him, and he pushes you down to his crotch.

"You know what to do," Hunter says, rubbing your head softly.

You put his cock into your mouth, intimately licking the body part. Hunter shivers, and soon, you're both high on pleasure.

"Oh, yes~ Suck it more! Earn hubby's cum!" Hunter moans, pushing your head up and down on his dick.

You kiss the base of his cock, and he spills his seed all over you. Some of it ends up on your face, and most of it ends up in your mouth. You stand up and try to leave, but Hunter grabs your hand.

"I thought you only wanted me to suck you off?" You question forcibly straddling Hunter.

"If I only wanted a blow job, I would only want your shirt off. I want more," Hunter says, pulling his pants down. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

Hunter kisses your cheek and puts a condom on. You hold onto him for support. He sticks his dick into you and moans, throwing his head back.

"Oh, baby!" Hunter moans, making a slow but steady thrust pattern.

Your breath hitches as pleasure flows through your body. Hunter kisses your lips, and you start to melt into each other.

"Faster!" You moan, barely holding onto Hunter.

Hunter immediately follows your plea and starts thrusting faster. You both moan like crazy and eventually, you yell that your climax is coming.

"I'm cumming too!" Hunter yells, rapidly thrusting into you a couple more times. "Hah!"

Hunter cums into you, and you shiver. You relax onto Hunter's chest and let him rub your back.

"So, can I still go to book club?" You ask, looking into Hunter's green eyes.

"Nope. You're staying with me for a while," Hunter replies, smacking your ass in response to your question.

~~~~~~~~

"Yo! Dude, how's the relationship with your darling?" Henry asks, high-fiving Hunter as he sits next to him during lunch.

"Pretty good. I taught her a lesson, and now we're the perfect couple," Hunter replies, sitting you on his lap. "Charles won't even go near her."

"Hunter, please," You say, feeling his boner.

"Oh, sorry, darling. You're going have to deal with this dick for a long time," Hunter replies, kissing your cheeks. "Keep complaining, and I'll have to make sure you'll know to appreciate it."

You are stuck with him. Forever, and ever, until the day you die.

#asks #inspired by heathers #yandere jock #yandere smut #yandere noncon #yandere dubcon

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so-long-soldier-writes · 9 months

Text

The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get

kai parker x bonnie bennett | requested

summary: bonnie just had to send her magic away in a teddy bear, consequently trapping herself in the prison world with only kai as company. and if that wasn't bad enough, the longer she spends with him, the less she starts to hate him. though it would be a cold day in hell before she ever admits that to his face...

tags: enemies to lovers, 1994 prison world, wet dreams, threats & violence (kai being kai), minor alcohol use, choking, kidnapping, arguments, making out, fingering, blowjobs, hair pulling, vaginal sex, hate sex (but they secretly like each other 😉 )

word count: 7.3k

n/a: kind of a bonnie pov, but not really. to the anon who requested it, i hope you like!! and sorry it took so long. also, i'm really bad at slow burn bc i'm impatient, so i hope i drew it out enough. and one more comment, i'm not sure if you wanted this much smut, but i read 'switch' in the request and my mind went wild. furthermore, if you want a part 2 with damon involved, since he was partially included in your request, i can do my best on that (psst i have ideas) ;)

It would’ve been easier to just do the stupid spell and deal with Kai back in the present world. She could’ve thought up a plan to trap and kill him with her friends’ help, instead of doing it by herself, eighteen years in the past. But no. When the second attempt to escape the prison world was made, Bonnie decided to send her magic away where she nor Kai could have it. And now they’re stuck there. Together. Forever.

A big part of her curses herself for that decision. Her only chance, and she blew it to prevent him from gaining access to his remaining siblings. He’d kill them in a second if he found them, he’s promised that to her. Though at the same time, Bonnie knows his siblings. In fact, Liv pretended to not understand her magic just to gain Bonnie’s trust. She and Luke may stand a good chance against Kai if he were to escape. After all, he has no magic of his own, and has never been taught much of anything. So why didn’t she just let them return to 2013, and then they could all form a plan against Kai together?

She puts her head in her hands, sighing. Upstairs, she can hear the shower running. A chance to run; to find new magic. Kai isn’t a vampire, he’s just a magic-less witch with a vengeance. Klaus was an original vampire with a vengeance, and Bonnie could take him.

Curiosity, her brain supplies.

Bonnie looks up, as if the voice had come from someone else in the room.

Nope, she hears, just you.

There is no one else here. There is the boy in the shower, and there is her. No one to help; no one to hear her scream. No one to judge you, she hears again. She shakes her head.

“No reason I’d be judged,” she replies out loud. She’s definitely going crazy. Talking to the voices in her head? And they are responding.

Except for one, it says. Your curiosity.

“The only curiosity I have is how I’m going to get out of here.”

Which is entirely your fault. You had an out; you sent it away. To protect Luke and Liv? They almost killed Elena. They can handle themselves.

“Kai is different,” she mutters.

Different, yes, But not in the way you’re thinking. Klaus was a monster, too. Damon, Stefan, Silas, Katherine, they were all killers. You’ve fought and won against them all at some point. But you don’t want to fight Kai. You don’t want to leave this prison world, because you don’t want to lose his company yet.

“Fucking insane.” She fills a glass of water and chugs it. Sleep deprivation is one hell of a mindfuck.

You’re not sleep deprived, Bonnie. In fact, this prison world offers the best sleep you’ve had in years. Your nightmares have stopped, since your friends no longer burden you with all their problems.

“Stop.”

Might I say, you even have dreams now. Dreams of your mother, where you’ve thanked her for the peace. Dreams of simple mornings, of sipping coffee in silence. And let’s not forget the dreams of pleasure, focused on the only other person occupying this world. You don’t really want to leave, do you?

Bonnie slams her hand down on the table. “I said stop!” The voices hush at once, but the damage has already been done.

She’s tried everything to forget that dream. It haunts her in all the best ways at the worst times. She bites her tongue so hard that it bleeds.

Wetness pools from her core as a dull sensation builds. She holds back a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Come on, we’re the only two people here. No one can hear you. Let it out.”

Two weeks ago, that would’ve been a threat. Two weeks ago, the boy between her legs had his hands around her throat as he whispered menaces in her ear. Then, somehow, in the two weeks since Bonnie’s sent her magic away, a thread has snapped between the two. It started with a glare. Kai’s eyes burned into her from behind, but softened when hers met his own. He wanted to hate her; wished he could kill her, but he couldn’t do either.

Bonnie had thoughts similar to his racing through her head. She numbed them with alcohol, and tried to not remember the feeling of his lips touching the lobe of her ear that one day in the car. But with every sip, her body heated up more, and when their fingers grazed as she passed him a glass, all hell broke loose.

She kissed him first, and once he realized what was happening, he didn’t let her go. He pushed her up against the wall and let his hands explore her body. Pants of exhaustion tumbled from both their lips whenever they separated for a breath of air. It wasn’t long before they wanted more, though, and her hips were hoisted onto his waist. Kai then took her up to his bed and made himself comfortable between her legs.

Pleasure flooded her body. Bonnie would’ve never have thought he would be as good with his tongue for anything else other than talking her ear off. Her hands pull at his hair as she comes close to her high. Way too quickly, she thought, but then again, it had been awhile since she’d been touched like that.

“Come on, we’re the only two people here. No one can hear you. Let it out,” he was saying.

But then Bonnie woke up suddenly to the clashing of pots and pans from the kitchen below.

“Sorry!” Kai’s voice carried through the mansion.

She slumped back on the bed, trying to remember the dream she was having. It was hot, like a summer day, but all the heat was trapped between two bodies. She was out of breath, and holding back a moan. A boy was in her bed, tangled in her sheets, lapping at her core.

Her blood runs cold.

Kai.

She could picture it perfectly. Hands that have held her by the throat, and have gripped her arms so tightly they’ve bruised, were holding down her hips. The tongue that blabbers on and on was finally put to another use.

Bonnie shook her head, disgusted in herself. She needed a shower, needed to change her sheets, needed a walk to clear her head. She pulled herself out of bed and grabbed the edge of the sheets to pull them off, when she noticed something else.

A wet spot, right underneath where she had been laying.

She hadn’t come yet in her dream, but the images were vivid enough that she did in her sleep. She swallows, unsure of herself. It’s hard to deny the fact that it felt good, and she craved it almost more than anything else, but never would she admit out loud that she had a wet dream of Kai Parker. And liked it.

The memory ends, leaving Bonnie alone at the kitchen table. The shower is still running, indicating Kai was still upstairs. Upstairs, by his bedroom, bare. She cursed her head for the thought. No, she could not think of him like that. Kai was a monster, no different from Klaus. A dream is just a dream. It doesn’t mean anything.

Still, the thoughts don’t leave her head. Biting her tongue doesn’t distract her from the memory, so she makes her way to Damon’s 1994 stash of liquor. Whiskey? No, whiskey is what she poured when Kai had asked for one too. Gin? No, gin reminds her of Liv, the girl she’s trying to protect by trapping herself down here with Kai. But rum? That’s safe.

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Comes his voice as she pours herself a glass. Of course.

“Rum.”

“Tropical.”

“Do you want one or not?”

“Are you offering?” He stares into her eyes. Unable to hold his gaze, she drops her eyes down to the edge of his lip. There’s a cut in the left side that she always notices, and today, she decides to focus on it. “I’m kidding. Sure.”

Bonnie quickly brings her attention back to the glass and pours him one. Her breath hitches when she hands it to him. Their fingers touch ever so gently.

“Y’know, I was wondering, what kind of shows do they have in 2013? Is Jerry Springer still on?”

Glad for the change in mood, Bonnie nods. “Yep, still a thing.”

“Huh. Do you watch it?”

“Not particularly. It’s kind of a ‘watch if it’s the only thing on’ kind of deal.”

“Ah. My mom used to put it on all the time. She would threaten to send my little siblings on there if they couldn’t work out their problems.”

Bonnie laughs before she can stop herself. Kai’s gaze snaps to her instantly, dimples forming on his cheeks as he smiles at the fact he made her laugh. A passing thought in her head mutters how cute they are, but then she comes to the realization of the thought. Not cute. Nothing about Kai is cute.

“Did she ever threaten to put you on there?”

He takes a deep breath. “Mom and I never shared jokes like that. My version of it was my dad threatening to shut my mouth with tape.”

“Oh,” she replies, genuinely shocked.

“That or withholding meals. Lock me in my room with a spell. Put a silencing spell so I couldn’t disturb them. And ignore me for days. Not like I was stupid enough to disturb them, because that would just make it worse, but he liked to use magic on me to remind me I didn’t have any. As if I could forget.”

Bonnie swallows hard.

“Ooh, definitely sharing too much. Think I’m going to finish this glass of rum elsewhere. If you need me, BonBon, I’ll be in my room.”

She watches him leave in silence.

Whiskey. Kisses. It was all a dream.

Rum. Revelations. Now, she didn’t know what to think.

As time passes, tensions increase. Bonnie tries to forget her dream and the tidbit of memory Kai had shared. Kai, on the other hand, tries to forget he overshared, while ignoring the dull ache in his heart to get closer to her. In a few days’ time, so much energy is put into their mutual need to ignore each other that they almost forget the task at hand.

That is, until Kai comes to a conclusion on which he needs Bonnie’s opinion. The girl sending her magic away suddenly reminded him of his sister doing the same. So, somewhere on the property of his childhood home, there may be magic stored. His heart leaps with the hope of getting out of the prison world, and he quickly maps out a plan to get to Portland.

Though before he can go anywhere, he needs to convince the girl to go with him. Let’s rephrase that, he needs to make his hometown appealing enough to get Bonnie to come with him in his retrieval of Jo’s magic. Then he needs, for a third time, to try to convince Bonnie to let them go home.

Because, truth be told, Kai would hate to leave the girl here alone. He knows what it’s like to spend every day in solitude for years, and even with his lack of empathy, can’t do that to her. Besides, it would be a lie if he said he hadn’t come to like her just a little. Her company is nice, and she’s undeniably pretty. Pretty badass, too, which turns him on more than he’d like to admit.

So, one day as she’s coming back from the supermarket, he approaches her with the topic.

“We need to leave Mystic Falls.”

Bonnie turns from the cabinet to face him, nose crinkled in disgust. “Why? We’re fine here. Where would we even go?”

“Doesn’t matter where, but I thought of a place where we could find magic. Since y’know, you put yours away in a bear.”

“Yeah, I did that so you couldn’t get out. Why would I go with you to get more?”

Kai crosses the kitchen to close the distance between them. He could reach out and touch her now. “Because we both want out of here, Bonnie. Don’t tell me you like it here.”

“Of course I don’t. But you out would be hell on earth. I’m trying to prevent another mass murder.”

His eyes darken. “I told you, I’ve changed. I-”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then what do you expect to do for the rest of your life locked up in here? Are you really going to sacrifice your own happiness to keep me here? Because I’ll find a way out. I’ll find a way out, and I will leave you here if I have to.”

“You need me for the spell. You’re not going anywhere.”

“What makes you think I won’t just steal your blood, memorize the spell, and get out? If you want to see your friends again, it’ll be with me.”

“I’d rather die than let that happen. It’s not your lack of magic that makes you an abomination, Kai, it’s you.”

The last comment pushes him too far. Bonnie realizes it the moment it leaves her lips. In an instant, his hands are around her throat, tightening just enough to render her unconscious. The girl grips his wrists, but feels her hold weakening.

“Kai,” she begs, “let me go.”

“Say you’ll go with me.”

“No.”

“Say it!”

“I won’t let you out!”

“I didn’t want to do this,” he warns. Before she can question him, darkness starts to cloud her vision. In a matter of seconds, her body goes limp.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

The next time Bonnie wakes up, she realizes the ground beneath her is moving. Though as soon as it hits her that she’s in the trunk of a car, the car comes to a halt. Bonnie hears the ignition turn off and the door shut before coming in direct contact with the sun. She squints, but then the view is blocked by Kai smiling down at her.

“Morning, sunshine. Well, evening, actually.”

“What did you do to me?”

“Relax. You just took a little nap for our flight.”

“Flight? Where are we, Kai?”

“Portland.”

She cringes, “why?”

“It’s where we’re gonna find magic.”

“And why exactly would-”

“It’s where I grew up. I would’ve let you sit in the passenger seat for the trip here, but since you refused to go, I needed to resort to more forceful methods.”

Bonnie rolls her eyes. “As if I’d willingly go with you. Also, I told you. I am not helping you get any more magic.”

“We’ll see about that, BonBon. For now,” he takes a couple steps towards his house, “come on. I’m cooking you dinner.”

“You’re not bribing me to help you,” she says, following him anyway.

“Not a bribe, Bonnie, I just thought you’d be hungry.” At the same time, her stomach growls, betraying her. Kai smiles. “See?”

The girl just rolls her eyes a second time and goes inside the house.

As it turns out, Kai isn’t a bad cook. In fact, he’s really good. Not like Bonnie would ever admit that, though. She didn’t want to eat his food, but the hunger soon overtakes her pride and she gives into it. To her shock and thankfulness, Kai doesn’t comment on this decision. He lets her eat in peace while enjoying his own plate.

“So,” she starts, halfway through her meal, “what’s your plan after bringing me all the way out here?”

Kai swirls wine in a glass and takes a sip before answering. “Find Jo’s magic. Steal it. Go home. Thought that was obvious.”

“And where exactly is her magic being stored?”

“Not sure, I’ll have to find it.”

“Well you can have a fun time doing that. I’m leaving after this.”

The boy tenses. “No you’re not. You’re going to get us out of here the minute I find it.”

She laughs in disbelief. “We’re still having this conversation? Get it through your head, Kai, I am not letting you out of here. I don’t care if you cook for me, I don’t care what you do, you’re staying in this damn prison world.”

Suddenly, he grabs her wrist. His grip is tight, knuckles going white. Bonnie jumps in her seat.

“Ouch! That hurts, Kai. Let go of me!”

“You’re not leaving this house until we find my sister’s magic.”

“Let go of my arm!”

He loosens his grip, but doesn’t let go completely. Bonnie stares down at his fingers curled around her. The cool metal of his rings contrasts his flushed skin. Her mind starts to wander…

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says slowly, “but I will if you keep refusing to help me. The only person you’re hurting is yourself.”

Her mind is snapped from its dark place. “Here’s an idea: I’ll help you find Jo’s knife, and then we go our separate ways.”

“That doesn’t make sense, I need your blood for the spell. The knife is no good if I don’t have you.”

“Too bad. Guess you’ll have to find me.”

According to Kai’s mind numbing ranting while Damon was still here, the prison world is exactly like the real world, except it’s a dimension frozen in time. But if Bonnie can escape, she can go to any state, any country, and Kai would have to find her. Sure, he could do a locator spell, but he’ll run out of siphoned magic quickly and won’t have any more. It’s a perfect plan, she thinks, to escape him and his demands to be freed.

Besides, Bonnie has a feeling he’ll love the hunt. There’s no way he’d deny this.

Kai seems to consider this. “Fine. We find the knife, and I’ll let you go.”

“Good.” Proud of herself, she stabs a piece of meat on her fork and eats it happily. She misses the storm clouds coming into his eyes. He doesn’t eat anymore after that.

At the end of dinner, both make their beds in separate areas of the house. Bonnie takes to Jo’s old room and Kai curls up on the couch. Just before she retreats to go to sleep, the boy stops her in her tracks. He corners her up against the wall, close enough that his breath hits her neck.

“Just so you know, I’m a light sleeper. If I hear you trying to break our deal and escape, you’ll regret it.”

Bonnie returns him a stone cold expression. “Figures. But I won’t.” She holds her breath in the presence of his.

“See you in the morning, BonBon.”

⁕⁕⁕⁕

Three days go by of the two searching the huge house for Jo’s knife. It is a cause that seems lost to Bonnie, yet she knows Kai won’t give up until he has magic again. So, she continues to look. Besides, if she goes to Kai about it, he’ll grab her again, and she would really like to avoid another close confrontation with him.

It’s too much risk to piss him off. He gets too close; too physical. And Bonnie should be afraid when he’s like this, but the more and more that it happens, she finds herself sweating in anticipation. The dark parts of her mind rise back to the surface. Memories of her dream, of his hands on her body, and his head between her legs, play on repeat. She wonders if it will always be a dream, or if one of these days, they’ll give into their mutual need.

No. It’s just a dream, she reminds herself. And Kai doesn’t need anything, except apparently an escape from this place. Still… she can’t help the thought. To not touch another person for twenty years? I wonder if he’s ever-

“Any luck?”

For once in her life, Bonnie’s grateful to hear Kai’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“No,” she replies, “no luck in three days.”

“It’s here. I know it is. Jo didn’t have any magic when we tried to merge. She stashed it somewhere.”

“Maybe she took it back after you were gone.”

Kai thinks about this, but then shakes his head. “She wouldn’t have. She’s probably never touched it again.”

“Maybe your father hid it somewhere. Does this place have an attic? Or a basement?”

“Both, yeah.”

“You take one, I’ll take the other.” Bonnie puts a finger up to his face. “But don’t even consider locking me in there.”

“Promise I won’t. You can trust me.” He winks.

She glares at him. “Hard to believe that.”

But to their dismay, an entire day of searching both turns up nothing. Bonnie returns to Jo’s room once again.

That night, her thoughts from earlier in the day come back to haunt.

In her dream, she’s in her room while Kai’s in his. Her fingers ghost over her body as she eases herself into a mood. It’s not like there’s much to do in the prison world, so as long as she’s quiet, he’ll never know.

However, she barely touches herself before a groan carries from down the hall. Curious, Bonnie rises from her bed and makes her way to the only other occupied room. Her eyes go wide at the sight beyond the door. There is Kai, eyes squeezed shut and hips working against a pillow. He’s on his bed, no mind paid to the crack through the door.

Somehow, the siphon doesn’t realize her presence. He must be too close to hear anything else.

The thought alone makes her body warm. Bonnie’s hand then finds its way under her pajama pants. A sigh escapes her slightly parted lips. It still doesn’t disrupt Kai from his own feat.

For a short time, she watches him while touching herself. She watches how he speeds up, then slows back down; how he sometimes lets out little pants, but at other times, full-blown moans.

“Kai,” she finds herself whispering. “Oh.”

He doesn’t stop. Not until he reaches his high and comes down from it. As he surveys his bed for the mess he’s made, his eyes snap up to the girl peeking through his door. In an instant, his face turns pink with embarrassment. Kai Parker embarrassed. It makes Bonnie come on the spot.

“What are you-?”

“Let’s not talk about this,” she breathes out heavily.

“But-”

Bonnie wakes up in a cold sweat, panting, and feeling out of place. Her eyes dart around the room before she realizes she’s still in her bedroom. Well, Jo’s bedroom, in Portland, in 1994. She sighs, feeling disgusted in herself once again. She needs to get away from Kai. Needs to stop having these dreams; needs to stop secretly wanting him. It all needs to stop.

Slowly, she rises from her bed to fetch a coffee. Coffee makes everything better. It’ll clear her mind and wake her up so she can continue looking for that stupid knife. Find the knife, and she can get away from him. Just find the stupid knife.

When she gets downstairs, though, Kai’s already in the kitchen.

“Morning,” he greets, voice gravelly. If she has to hear his morning voice one more time, she’s going to lose it. “Sleep well?”

“Fine. You?”

“Only fine?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Hm. For some reason it sounded much better from where I was.”

“What?”

“Did you dream well?”

“No. In fact, I’ve only had nightmares since arriving in this hell.”

“Odd. ‘Cause I could’ve sworn I heard otherwise this morning.”

“Maybe you just heard yourself.” Her heartbeat quickens, and Bonnie thanks the highest power alive that Kai’s not a vampire.

“Maybe. But I’m pretty sure it was you. Pretty sure I don’t moan my own name.”

Her blood runs cold. “I didn’t-”

Kai stares at her and her words falter. “Is someone else here, then? Don’t think that’d be from the ghosts of my siblings. Only people here are you and me.”

Kai mentioning his siblings almost kills her mood, but his look revives it just as fast. Straightening, she fakes confidence. “You made me have that dream. Manipulated it.”

The boy chuckles, “I literally have no magic, Bonnie. That’s why we’re here, actually, if you don’t remember. I have no magic to manipulate your dreams. You thought of me all on your own.”

“I-” she stammers, “you-” she takes a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. I still hate you. I will never like you, and nothing like that will ever happen. I’m just… tired of being in here.”

A flash of hurt crosses his eyes, but he blinks it away quickly. “Whatever. I’m going to check the basement again, in case you didn’t look hard enough yesterday.”

Bonnie didn’t miss the look, but she doesn’t understand why he would have it. He hates her just as much as she hates him. She scoffs at his comment, then disappears to the attic. If he asks, she’ll just retort that he didn’t look hard enough, either.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

Days pass the same as they have been. Though if it’s even possible, the two ignore each other even more. They stay on opposite sides of the house and only come in the same room for dinner. Kai cooks each night, for which she’s thankful, but refuses to actually thank him. Part of her is still pissed about him bringing up the dream, making her a little embarrassed every time she remembers the conversation.

You’re the one that moaned his name, the voice in her head says, you can’t be mad at him for bringing it up.

Shut up, she replies to it, it's common decency not to talk about that stuff.

The voice begs to differ. It argues that the rules are different when you’re the only two people in an entire world.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

Bonnie’s growing restless each second that they can’t find the knife. She’s growing comfortable around Kai, and she hates the thought. The boy has been cooking for her, giving her space, and hasn’t threatened her ever since she backed off of him. Another couple months, and maybe they could have a Damon-level of banter between them. Wait…

Hell. No.

She will not be in Portland in a couple months. She’ll be far from Kai Parker and his crazy childhood home. She will not spend every day of her miserable time in the prison world wondering where he is, or what he’s doing. She will be far away, relaxing on a beach somewhere, while he angrily tries to find her.

That was the plan. That will continue to be the plan. That is-

“Bonnie!”

The girl scoffs. Will she ever have a train of thought that he doesn’t interrupt? “What?”

“I found it!”

Excitement shoots through her spine. She stands from her spot on the floor and follows his voice to the kitchen. There, on the table, is Jo’s knife. Rusty, but still sharp.

“Where-?”

“Outside. Y’know, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before, but Jo had run outside after sending the twins out, and I guess she stashed the knife somewhere there. Turns out, it was in that old tree stump in the yard. Huh.”

Bonnie stares at it for a second. “So you have your knife. I can go now.”

Kai bites his lip.

“We had a deal.”

“You really don’t want to live here alone, Bonnie, I-”

The girl picks up the knife and points it at him in an instant. “We had a deal. You let me go. Right. Now.”

“Bonnie-” he reaches for her, but she blocks him with the blade.

“I’m serious.”

“Put it down.”

“No.”

“Fine. Put it down, and you can go.”

“I don’t trust you!”

Kai takes a step forward. Bonnie doesn’t move the knife, pointed back at his stomach, even as he makes another step.

“I promise, you can go. I just… I know what it’s like here, being all alone, and I don’t want you to go through that.”

“You don’t care about me. You don’t care about anyone.”

“I do care, Bon,” he whispers, “I care enough that I don’t want you feeling the way I have for eighteen years. It’s fun the first few, when you get to travel and see everything, but then it hits you that you’re never going home. You’ll never see another person again. You’ll lose hope, and you’ll lose the will to live, but you can’t die. I’ve been there. I’m trying to help you.”

“I don’t want your help. Being alone is better than letting you out.”

“Please don’t go.” He takes another step toward her. The tip of the blade makes contact with his shirt. “I promise I won't hurt you, just don’t go. I don’t want to be alone anymore, and you don’t want to know what it’s like to be here alone.”

“I hate you,” she spits, pressing the knife into him until it hits his skin.

“I know. You should. I haven’t given you a reason to like me. But I’m begging you. Don’t go.”

“I give you this knife, and you let me go. Don’t stab me in the back, don’t keep begging.”

Kai swallows hard. “Okay.”

Slowly, she hands it to him. Bonnie watches as he puts it on the table. She’s surprised. She expected him to immediately stab her or siphon from it. Instead, he just watches her take a step backward, then another. Then-

“Bonnie-”

“No.”

He shuts his mouth. Clouds return to his eyes. Baby blues darken as a storm approaches. He won’t cry; Kai hasn’t cried since he was seven, but he will feel the stinging pain in his stomach at the loss of her company. The dryness at the back of his throat when the hopelessness returns.

Bonnie makes her way out the door without another peep from him. She stands on the porch, waiting to see if he’ll come out, but after a minute, there’s nothing. The girl sighs in relief as she takes in the feeling of being free.

Free.

Free from his threats, his tight grip, his anger. Free from the heavy weight of his crimes; crimes he’ll acknowledge but won’t feel bad for committing. Free from his stupid jokes and the winks he always gives her. Free from his cooking and his company. She’ll be alone. Completely, utterly alone.

She gulps at the thought.

Kai, meanwhile, stares at the knife before him. It’s technically his knife, the one he used to stab Jo in the first place, but then Jo put her magic in it, and it became known as his sister’s knife. Kai picks up the blade, feeling it in his hands, and siphons just a little bit to feel its strength. He revels in the energy it gives him. The last time he felt that strong was when he took Bonnie’s magic to show her his ability.

Bonnie, who just walked out the door to spend an eternity alone, rather than be with him.

Bonnie, who just slammed the front door.

“I hate you!” She yells from the foyer.

“I didn’t say anything!” Kai defends himself.

The girl stomps back into the kitchen, face unreadable. “Yeah, but I heard you breathing. All I’ve heard all day, all week, all month, is the sound of you breathing. That, or you talking. Talking, or cooking. That is all you do, and I hate it!”

Kai stares at her. Whatever mixed emotions she’s feeling, he doesn’t understand any of them. “Um-”

“I just want to be alone, just leave me alone! Actually, no, I don’t want to be alone, because this prison world is a hell, and I will go crazy if I am alone. But, as it turns out, you’re my only company. And I’m sick of it, and I’m sick of hearing your breathing, and seeing those stupid rings on your fingers, and hearing your voice in the morning when you’ve just woken up. And I’m sick of your cooking, and your dedication to it, and how it’s actually good. Oh! And I’m also sick of having these stupid dreams about you, too. I don’t know why my brain won’t think of anyone else at three in the morning, but I’ve lost sleep over not wanting to dream, so I haven’t slept in a couple of days, and maybe that’s why I’m at my breaking point right now! Because I don’t want to sleep, because I don’t want you creeping in my dreams. I hate you, Kai, I’m running out of words to describe it.”

“So-, why-, um-” the boy doesn’t have any words, either. “So, uh, why are you still here?”

“Because I need to get my anger out, and you’re the only other person here.”

“Okay?”

Kai expects Bonnie to hit him. A punch to the stomach or a slap to the face, either one, he anticipates. What he did not expect was for her to kiss him.

But in fact, when the girl storms up to stand a mere inch from his face, she grabs his cheeks and kisses him.

“You are so annoying,” she mutters, staring up at him. “I need you.”

This time, when she kisses him, he kisses her right back. Bonnie doesn’t fight him. Instead, she grabs the back of his neck to pull him closer, presses her body to his, and deepens it. Kai’s hands then find her waist before he backs her up to the nearest wall. Just like in her first dream, he lifts her legs up to wrap around his, to which she complies immediately. In their new position, her pelvis is level with his hardening cock, and with every push of his body against hers, she feels his excitement.

“Kai,” she whispers his name. He recognizes the tone as the one she whispers in her sleep.

“Hm?”

“More.” She runs a hand through his hair roughly. “Take me. Please.”

Those words are all he needs to lay her down on the nearest couch. As soon as her head hits the pillow, he’s stripping her of her clothes. Bonnie tears his shirt off his head, then begins to fumble with his belt.

“How many times have you dreamed of this, BonBon?”

She’s too needy to lie. “I’ve lost count.”

A smirk crosses the boy’s face, though it’s quickly replaced by something she’d never thought she’d see on him: empathy.

“I’ll take care of you, Bon. You’re good with me.” Kai wastes no time wetting his fingers with his tongue, then putting them on her clit. Bonnie’s back arches, and he supports her by slipping a hand underneath immediately. Their lips reconnect in a heated kiss.

As soon as she gets his pants undone, she makes a grab for his visible bulge. Kai being Kai, though, smacks her hand away.

“Not yet, princess. I’m still focused on you.” He distracts her by pushing his fingers into her core, pumping them in and out, and smirking at the squelching noises it makes. Bonnie moans, knowing she’s close to coming. Just like in her dream, again, it didn’t take long for her to reach her high. Kai fingers her throughout her orgasm, not relenting until her legs are shaking. He helps her onto her knees when she’s stable, and finally, does he then let her pull down his boxers.

“Kai.”

“Hm?”

“Stand,” she points to the side of the couch, “here.”

“Dominant, are we?

She gives him a glare. It’s playful, yet he knows she means business. That’s okay - Kai can work with both. He’s mostly dominant, but if he’s comfortable enough, he’ll gladly submit to her. Right now, he’s not willing to fully submit, but he’ll give into the girl’s demands a little if it’s what she needs.

The moment Kai stands where he was asked, Bonnie’s hands are gripping his cock. He lets out a moan at the feeling, and his hips involuntarily jerk forward. Bonnie keeps him where she wants him, though. Once he’s under her control, she puts her mouth on him. Her head bobs, taking his length deeper and deeper each time, until she can glide her lips smoothly along. Obscene grunts tumble from Kai’s lips. His hands bury in her hair, pulling at the roots. Bonnie doesn’t seem to mind, and in fact, her grip on his hips tightens so she can work better.

“Bon,” he stammers, “you’re- I’m-”

She stops as he speaks. No way is he coming before he fucks her. Kai catches on immediately, pushing her back onto the couch, and then crawling up her body. He aligns himself before pushing in slowly, filling her completely and comfortably in no time. He’s much gentler than Bonnie anticipated, but she’s not complaining. Though she bets he’s very capable of angry sex, as seen by his several meltdowns over the months. If she ever gets him in one of those moments, she’d surely be covered in love bites and bruises by the end.

Kai finds a good pace quickly, as indicated by Bonnie’s moans of pleasure. His hands grip her wrists, pinning her to the couch, while he leaves a trail of kisses along her neck. At first, the girl tries to fight for some control, but soon surrenders to the more dominant boy.

He clicks his tongue, cooing at her, promising he’ll take care of her.

A month ago, being under him like this would’ve been terrifying. But in their time together, she’s come to desire him a lot more than she wants to admit.

And seemingly, Kai feels the same way.

It isn’t long before she feels another high coming on - this one even more powerful than the last. With her bottom lip in between his teeth, and his cock buried deep enough inside her to form a bulge, her orgasm draws nearer by the second. Her breaths get shallow and she whimpers his name, pleading for release. Kai’s hold on her wrists loosen, as does the pace on his thrusts. He��s close, too.

More thrusts and moans finally tumble from the girl’s lips. She’s cracked first, but the feeling of her body convulsing at its climax tips him off the edge. He spills inside her before he can even consider pulling out, but neither care about that right now. The feelings of pleasure are overwhelming, after months, and for him, years, of not touching another person so intimately.

Their bodies meld together as he collapses on top of her. Her hands fly to his hair, twirling the ends between her fingertips, not wanting their moment to end. As soon as Kai regains his strength, he sits up so as to not crush her.

“Do you still hate me?” He asks, a tint of hopefulness in his voice that maybe she doesn’t.

“Yes.” His eyes fall to the floor. “But maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

Bonnie’s conflicted. She tells herself she still hates him, but deep down, knows she’s lying.

The two of them catch their breath for a while on that couch. Eventually, their clothes find their way back on their bodies, but they don’t leave each other’s companies just yet.

“Was that how your dream went?” He teases suddenly.

“No, actually, we never… the first time, you were getting there, but then actual you - not dream you - woke me up by dropping a pan in the kitchen.”

“Sorry-”

“And then another time, it was me eavesdropping your own private moment. Sorry about that. Others were shorter, with less time for mind wandering, but we never actually went all the way.”

His blue eyes meet her intensely. “Do you regret this?”

“No. We both needed it. We were driving each other crazy. Do you?”

“How could I? I’ve been curious about you since the day you and Damon got here.”

Bonnie looks at him, then at her hands in her lap. She isn’t sure how to reply to that.

Silence then befalls them once again. Dinner is quiet, few words are shared. There’s no mention of their moment again, but she can tell by his gaze that he’s fighting the urge to bring it up. She wonders what he would say, yet doesn’t prompt him to share.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

When she wakes up the next morning, Kai is already awake. The boy is at the kitchen table, fiddling with Jo’s knife in one hand and the ascendant in the other.

“What are you doing?” She asks, startling him.

“Just thinking.”

“You still want to go back after our time yesterday? We won’t be the only two people here anymore. I might never talk to you again.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re leaving anyway. You said it yourself, you want to disappear to one end of the earth, and if I want out, I’ll have to find you. And though having to hunt you down would’ve been fun a couple years ago, I’m tired of being here. At least if I get out, I won’t be alone.”

For a minute, Bonnie considers taunting him. Telling him he’d be alone anyway, because no one in their right mind would want anything to do with him. But then his fingers glide along the edge of the blade. The same fingers that were buried inside her yesterday. The silver rings adorning them that match the lethal weapon. She sighs internally. Bonnie doesn’t want to be stuck in the prison world anymore than Kai does. Certainly, she doesn’t want to roam it alone.

Yesterday did something to her. The way he begged her not to leave. Promised her she would hate being alone, and urged her to stay with him. At the time, she thought being alone would be better than being with him. But then she kissed him. She kissed him, and he kissed back, and then he pleasured her and cared for her in ways she thought could only be dreams. Now she doesn’t know what to think about him. Her thoughts are jumbled, mind is confused, and heart is burdened.

You don’t hate him, that damn voice returns, in fact, you kinda actually like him.

“You are… leaving, right?” Kai asks in response to her silence.

The girl straightens. “I am. I’ve had enough of this prison world, and frankly, this house, and I need to get away from it.”

Kai looks up at the walls of his childhood home. He agrees to hating the house, but he has no clue where he’ll go next.

Bonnie, on the other hand, seems to know exactly where she’s going. She marches towards the front door, hand on the knob. Kai stares after her, questions on the edge of his tongue, but nothing coming off it.

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

He stands from his seat, confused, but follows her nonetheless. “Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“You’re gonna go back to Mystic Falls?” If Bonnie’s starting her escape now, why is she telling Kai where she’s going?

“Eventually. But hurry, or we’ll miss the eclipse.”

Her words take three whole seconds to sink in before the reality of the situation hits him. They’re going home. Truly home. Back to the present age - whatever that looks like.

So, with Jo’s knife strapped to his boot and the ascendant in his pocket, Kai follows Bonnie to the site beneath the eclipse. The clearing of trees he remembers all too well from eighteen years ago stand overhead. For a mere second, Kai wonders if it’s a trap. His eyes search hers, but he only finds a fierce determination.

“Aren’t you going to siphon that?”

His eyebrows furrow, but he does when she prompts him. “What changed your mind about letting me out?”

“For some reason, I’ve decided to trust you.” She cuts her palm. “Don’t betray it.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

“Not exactly.”

She gives him a small smile, which he returns. Then, hand-in-hand, they chant until a brightness surrounds them, and they are on their way home.

#bonkai #bonkai fics #kai parker x bonnie bennett #tvd fanfiction #tvd smut #requested

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saltygilmores · 8 months

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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 21- Lorelai's Graduation Day, Aka The Best Episode That Ever Episoded, My Heart Will Soon Be Exploded. Part 1

This is my all time favorite episode of Gilmore Girls. It is so dear and special to me. Why? It includes (but is not limited to) the following qualities: 1.Jess and Rory go on their only psuedo-date!!!!! EVER! 2.Lorelai is safely contained in another location..another STATE...for the entire psuedo-date! 3.Although this is unfortunately not a Certified Dean Free Episode, his presence is limited to only 1 minute of nonsense! 4.Frankly, there is no interference from ANYBODY. Just Jess and Rory being so fucking cute and alone together! 5.Milo eats a hot dog! 6.Rory follows her dear little heart, skips school, goes to New York City and in the process screws over Lorelai by missing her graduation which is what she deserves. Lorelai deserves all the bad things. Huzzah! 7. Season 3 is just over the horizon. I skipped the two previous episodes, but you can read everything else here. Let's GOOOOO. Since I skipped right past the dumpster fires that were Teach Me Tonight and whatever the godforsaken episode is that came after it, I missed a few things and can only rely on my memory and context clues. It appears that Lorelai has staged another boycott against Luke's Diner, since Lorelai Gilmore is Certified CrazyPantsMcGee and she and Luke are on the outs because his nephew got into a minor car accident. It makes sense in her mind, don't try to understand it, you might break your own brain. The episode opens with Lorelai's search for a new breakfast spot. Instead of saving a few bucks and just pouring her and Rory a bowl of cereal at home for once.

Whenever the Gilmores mention or visit other locales outside of The Hollow, it's kinda weird, because I think of Stars Hollow as a bubble cut off from the rest of normal society. Like when they go to the mall and stuff? What are you doing outside The Bubble, Citizens? The atmosphere is unsafe. But, the episodes that take place outside The Bubble, like this one, are some of the best ones. Other certified Outside The Bubble greats: The Bangles concert, the drag show, Lorelai and Emily's spa day.

I guess I missed the birth of Lane the Drummer as well.

Sure Lorelai, exploit your friend for free labor instead of sticking a fucking Pop Tart in a toaster.

The food on this show always looks amazing. Props to the Gilmore Girls food display person.

Someone on this show has a conscience. Good for her. That being said, I'm glad she throws her moral compass in the trash when she decides to skip school. Lorelai and Dean can drown in a pit of rattlesnakes.

Jackson and Sookie are sex freaks 100%. Good for them. Why couldn't they give Jared Padalecki a paycheck to sleep in every episode too? Another thing I missed in episodes 19 and 20: Lorelai going back to school.

Really, I thought her head was emptier than The Independence Inn on a Tuesday afternoon. That her one brain cell would have plenty of room to chill out, take a little swim, see the sights.

The "knowledge" stuffed in Lorelai's brain: Dean Forrester's penis size, whether or not Dean Forrester likes those little marshmallows in his cocoa, how to say "Michel, cover my shift, I'm leaving work in the middle of the day", assorted deep seated childhood traumas. Lorelai made a comment about how her finals are the last time she has to cram anything in and I thought of a joke so dirty I decided not to post it. Filtering any thought is not the SaltyGilmores way, so you should be glad I spared you.

What? You’ve finally developed an ounce of self awareness? Did you realize you're a raging bitch who leaves misery and destruction in her wake wherever she goes? Stop lobbing me so many softballs, damn. (The real answer: She hates school and learning is stupid). L: This learning thing is self inflicted! I'm a masochist! I may as well be carrying a switch and peridocally lacerating myself with it! But enough about what you and Dean Forrester do when Rory's not home.

In a future episode, after Rory has risked her future by solely applying to Ivy League schools with less than 10% acceptance rates and is unsurpisingly, experiencing doubt about whether or not she'll get in to any of them, Lorelai remarks that Rory is going to Harvard and that's that; she will not allow her daughter to end up at a Community College or, god forbid, beauty school. In Lorelai's world there are no colleges that exist for her child in between Harvard and Stars Hollow Makeup Academy. My headcanon is that Shane (if Jess hadn't fed her to the swans after the Dance Marathon. RIP ) goes to beauty school and makes a fine living. Rory carries too much pressure on her shoulders and her life and career flame out. It's a tale as old as time. To her credit, in this scene Lorelai isn't really slandering her school, but talking about how the school is so small that her ceremony will be unremarkabl. But there wil be one, so she has decided to participate. She did not walk in her high school graduation ceremony because she had a 1 year old at the time, such is the consequence of boinking Crusty Hayden on your parents' balcony in the middle of winter. R: You should do it! You've worked hard! You earned it! Yes, she's worked so hard at this for such a long time that she decided on, enrolled in, and graduated from an entire college business program over the course of two episodes. R: You should invite Gramma and Grampa. L: Forget it. They won't want to be there. I was supposed to graduate high school, go to Vassar*, marry a Yale man, and get myself a proper nickname like Babe or Bunny or Shih Tzu. Instead, I got pregnant, didn't finish school, I didn't marry your father, I ended up in a career that even Jessica Hahn** would think is beneath her. I humiliated them, the two proudest people in the world, I humliated them. I spoiled their plans. I took their fine upbringing in a world of comfort and opportunity and I threw it in their faces. I broke their hearts and they'll never forgive me. I don't want them there. It'll hurt them, and hurt me. (please see footnotes at end of post for additonal commentary on this speech) Lorelai's 16 year old daughter, who 15 seconds earlier was looking forward to her mother's graduation, but is now being trauma dumped on by her mother, and is not unaware that this is about her:

Her name is "Dean Forrester's future stepdaughter." Look at me ragging on Dean and he's not even here! Ha! HA!

Ha? :( Dean is attempting to use his feeble brain to mansplain a concept to the women. What is it?

Given his history of stalking, harrasment and verbal abuse, the thought of Dean honing his skills with a weapon should be incredibly frightening, but the girls want to hear more from this armed predator. Lorelai is very interested in how Dean Forrester yields his weapon. Dean’s Hobby Of the Episode is, *spins wheel* Skeet shooting, also known as clay pigeon shooting. (he helpfully mansplains to Rory that he is not shooting actual pigeons, that's just what the clay disks are called), and then the ladies ask several more dumb questions like "what if you actually hit a real bird?" in what is perhaps some kind of attempt by AmyShermanPalladino to show that Dean Smart Women Dumb. But I'm a grizzled veteran of your show, AmyShermanPalladino. You're not getting the "Dean is intelligent" ruse over on me this far into the second season. Nice try. R: Why are you into this? D: My dad did this when he was my age and he wanted to pass the tradition down. Your dad wishes your mom had swallowed.

I keep getting distracted by how Rory's sleeves are always tucked into her cast instead of over the cast, sorry. I've never had a cast and it just looks strange. Why am I thinking about this? Why am I like this? I like Lorelai's hoodie. There, I said something nice about her. Happy? L:If you get real good at shooting clay pigeons, do you move onto other animals like chicken and sheep? Well, future serial killers like Dean do usually start out by hurting animals. And that is the end of Dean for the entire episode. A meager one minute of Dean per episode is a dream come true. * At the first mention of Vassar, my brain immediately jumped to Bedford Diaries (aka Slutty Jess at College), where Milo's character (Richard Thorn, I mean, Slutty Jess) sleeps with his professor's estranged wife and she compliments his sexual prowess by saying "You'll make some Vassar girl very happy one day." Best not to do what I did, which is to cross pollinate the two shows and timelines in my mind (more or less against my will) and imagine some pretty horrible implications.

** I did some light Googling on Jessica Hahn, and I am NOT unpacking this reference.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 2 #lorelais graduation day #rory gilmore #jess mariano #literati #denise rewatches gilmore girls #hot dog #vassar #bedford diaries

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da-proti-toku-grem · 1 month

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just me ranting again pls don't feel like you have to read or anything i just feel like i'll punch smth or someone if i don't get this out of my chest rn

i hate this fucking weird anxiety that apparently no one that i know irl fucking understands bc why does everyone gets encouraging words every time they're feeling anxious but i have to fucking suppress my anxiety (i'm starting to think maybe some of them are even panic attacks but it's not gonna help me to think about the now anyways) attacks bc people think it's stupid and i'm overreacting to normal situations that shouldn't be hard for anyone. and i hate that everyone thinks i have a problem with them like don't you fucking understand that i don't even know how i'm keeping myself alive at this point how the fuck am i supposed to have a problem with you when my own mind alone is a whole problem of its own

like this is all coming bc all of a sudden my parents decided to go out to dinner together (the three of us + my 2 brothers) and i really don't want to go out. fuck i'm crying my eyes out as i type this just at the mere thought of going out i feel like my heart is going to fucking explode if i put a foot outside. and i'm trying- i'm trying to tell my mom that i really really can't do this right now and i know that i have to try, that i have to do stuff so my brain gets the message that it's not bad, so i can get better, but I've barely started therapy 3 months ago and i have to take short steps not full on jump to do the scariest things. and i'm really trying my best to do stuff but today is not the day. and i tried to explain it to my mom but she (like every fucking time) just hit me with the "but why don't you want to go out with us, we're your family". girl is not that i don't want to go out with you, is that i don't want to go out

and then on top of that she was talking with my grandma over the phone and she asked about me (bc she knows i'm not doing well) and i know she's just asking bc she cares about me, but i really couldn't talk to her right now, but my mom saw that i was crying and she tried to pass me the phone anyways and i whispered to her "please don't. i can't talk to her right now" and she just turned around and said "she doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, she's just crying because she doesn't want to go out of the house with us" and really wtf was that bro

now i feel fucking worse because now i've made my grandma feel bad because she thinks i don't wanna talk to her and why tf do i do everything wrong. why tf does no one understands how i'm feeling or at least tries to. why can't i like normal things so i can get along with more people. i really don't want to change myself, i like how i am, but it's so fucking hard to believe in yourself and love yourself when everyone arounds you who claims to love you wants you to change the thing about yourself that makes you you. do they really love me or do they just love the façade i put for them when they're around. i feel so fake whenever i have to change things about myself. but if i don't they always hit me with their "don't wear that or they'll say [x]", " don't do that, that's weird", "why don't you go out like your friends do", "don't sit like that or you'll look like a dude", " you have to have some hobbies outside of your house", "you have shave like every woman does", " you have to start making sport to loose weight", etc etc etc

and i TRY, i fucking TRY to ignore all the comments, to just be the way i am, but what the fuck am i supposed to if no one likes me, they like the version of me they have in their heads, the potential of what i could be one day. but they don't fucking see that i'm fighting to stay alive every fucking day and the mere thought of having to wake up in the morning feeling like a weight is crushing on me. how tf am i supposed to think about the future and what i want to study now that i finally got the courage to tell my parents that i wanted to drop out of uni, when i'm fighting to stay alive

but even like that, i can't put it into words properly and explain to them how i feel and why i react the way i do to certain things because the moment i think about it i start crying like a pathetic baby. so now i'm in my room, crying silently because i can't even cry properly because i don't want to bother/worry the rest of my family. because even if i feel like shit i don't want to worry anyone

i feel fucking horrible and i'm not even capable of facing my own feelings. i just wish i could disappear in a house in the middle of the mountain and never talk to a single person ever again because i feel like i fuck it up every time i open my mouth. i should just shut up forever and never talk again. i'm the quiet girl after all, probably no one will notice anyways....

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tetsunabouquet · 4 months

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Patterns I Notice In (Male) Reviewers of Childrens Media

You know, I've started to notice something.

I've been watching a lot of movie reviews lately, not limited to children's movies but still a lot of children's movies as obviously children's literature is my main focus as a writer.

Remember how in my post where I talked about how Ruby Gillman showed some of the wrongs in children's media today and I had a back and forth in the comment section with someone who pretty much slammed Ruby as bad but as we talked more and more they ended up being like, "It's just not my cup of tea," as I pointed out his/her core issues with the movie was just personal opinions?

These past months, I became a bit more familiar with reviewers who will just claim a movie is bad if it doesn't comes with profound philosophy and/or not their cup of tea and I actually noticed a pattern.

In regards to the people who use their real voices in YouTube videos or the authors listed in review articles, its mostly men who will downright claim a piece of fiction is terrible based on their opinion instead of wether the story is approaching subject matters in a harmful manner, etc. I barely see any women acting like 'I hated this movie, so should everyone else'.

An obvious example that comes to mind, is Monsters vs Aliens.

To me, it's not a masterpiece either and there were definitely a writing decision or two that was made poorly. However, I don't think it has earnt the label of bad or terrible whilst I've heard/seen multiple men call this movie as such.

On an entertainment level of value, does it entertain kids? Yes. As a kid I thought it was okay at its worst, good at its best moments.

Does it have a harmful message or premise? No.

Are the minor storybeats problematic or unrealistic? No. In fact, Derek breaking of their engagement not only mirrors insecure men threatened by more powerful women but it also mirrors some of the douchebags people who developped a terminal illness or disability have dated. Because of the many ship edits, I know not a lot of people actually know the story behind Arcade, the Eurovision hit by Duncan Laurence.

In ship edits, this song often gets used for tragic ships or doomed star crossed lovers, but it's actually about having wasted everything for a relationships that is not worth it and that is the key part of the song people always miss. You see, the story behind the song is this;

Duncan Laurance had a friend who was diagnosed with cancer and she had no chance for recovery. Her boyfriend, rather then being there for her in her final moments, broke up with her and she spent her final days, lovesick on her deathbed waiting for him to come back but he never did. Duncan wrote the song in her memory but also to be a cautionary tale for himself, to never become the idiot wasting their final moments on a asshole who left you to die with a broken heart!

Susan and Derek reminds me of that story, because men like Derek would have also left Susan if he found out she was terminally ill or got into an accident that left her disabled.

So the movie's storytelling isn't downright terrible by any means and the animation is also decent. But again, I've heard multiple men take a dump on this movie for being trash.

I'll admit my brain is too foggy to remember how well the other monsters were written but considering the main story rested on Susan's shoulders and that was told acceptable enough and they gave her the self-acceptance she needed, how well they are fleshed out isn't too much of a deciding factor wether its good, okay or bad when it comes to stories aimed at younger children.

How well characters outside of the protagonist are developped and how important that is to the overall story really depends on the age demographic as well as the kind of story at hand. The more characters a child is meant to empathize for and follow their direction during the story, the more difficult it is to grasp for the really young ones. Small kids prefer having one fleshed out protagonist with a weaker cast over every character having a deeply developped backstory. Flat side characters are a thing in children's media for a reason.

Shows have a somewhat unique position for their ability to flesh out the characters because they have way more time to tell the story so they can easily create a filler episode where a background character shines even if its meant for a way younger audience and it also has the option to have the characters grow and become semi-fleshed out alongside the viewer if the show gets popular enough for a long-run.

In the case of a slightly older kid demographic, this can lead to fully fleshed out masterpieces like ATLA, though not every kid show should be on their level for us not to bash the property. Brain dumb entertainment can still be a masterpiece in a kid's eyes and could lead to them becoming a long-time fan for nostalgic reasons.

What we should bash, are harmful kids shows like Cocomelon who's animation was literally proven to be too fast for a young kid's brain to follow hence the infamous Cocomelon zombie-kid and the Cocomelon tantrums became a thing, because their brain speed has adjusted to a speed faster then real life speed. Anyone who listened often to Nightcore and then went on to listen to the original version, likely encountered this effect with the original song suddenly sounding slower then you remember it- thats your brain speed having adjusted to the Nightcore version.

I couldn't believe my eyes when the far right recently turnt on Cocomelon because of there being some LGBT episode, when Cocomelon was already proven to mess up a kid's brain speed and in kids with brains that are still that lacking of development we don't know how much fucking with their brain speed will lead to in their development. I saw parents turning away from that show during the Pandemic for this very reason so I was flabbergasted so many parents on the far right still let their kids watch Cocomelon in the first place!

It's cheaply made harmful material and I was quite literally fuming with all the stupid parents saying 'God, I really have to keep in mind what type of content my kids consumne', like yeah no shit Sherlock! The fact your kids were still watching all of it after the many controversies, proved you never cared about the quality of media your kids consumne in the first place, don't pull that stupid Pikachu face! The fact LGBT content is the straw and not the actual harm this show does to children's brain development makes me want to punch someone in the face.

Can male reviewers please start targeting the actual bad children's movies and shows and not shit on movies who simply didn't managed to strike the gold of a masterpiece in storytelling and possibly animation? If someone were to force me between watching Dreamworks' Trolls franchise the entire day over and over again and just one hour of Cocomelon, I'd still pick Trolls in a heartbeat.

Because watching an okay is always more better then watching a movie/show that actually deserves the label terrible.

#tetsutalk #writing #critics #reviewers #a trend I noticed #monsters vs aliens #trolls #dreamworks trolls #cocomelon #that a story isn't a universaly regarded masterpiece doesn't make it bad #harmful content is actually bad #brain speed #actually look into the shows your kids watch #don't blame it on the LGBT #Cocomelon has always been a cancer #arcade #the origin of the song and how everyone misuses it

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ditzydreamsss · 6 months

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HEADCANONS LATER (+incorrect quote), after the rant :D

watching korean minecraft youtubers from six years ago for the nostalgia and I didn't realize how big the pit was. Like how many videos actually are there?? How many actually good minecraft roleplay series?? I'm nodding along to most of it tbh but STILL!!!

잠뜰tv (or Sleepground) is who I'm watching mainly and HHJHHHHHHH SHE HASN'T CHANGED!! It's been 5-6 years and she hasn't fallen for the algorithm!!! SHES STILL MAKING FIRE VIDEOS HHHHHHH!!!!!?????? I've already seen one of the older creatures doing skibidi toilet and was so disappointed, so I decided to visit 초능력 연구소 (superpower laboratory) and i checked her channel today after binging 스틸 하트 (Steel Heart) and I WAS SO HAPPY!!! Her latest video is like a labyrinth thing I haven't watched yet but that reminds me of this other series about a labyrinth so I'll get to that later but AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! /POS

No one knows what I'm talking about and it kinda sucks because the series and cc's are all korean and only korean and i doubt anyone in 2023's still watching these and can also speak english and is not a child BUT!! BUT! HHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS. no, i will not shut up about 각별/수현 (Gakbyeol/Suhyen (romantic)) shipping in Ddotty's lab rp and every other universe/rps ever. (The characters! Not the ccs!!!)

Oh wow those are a lot of words.

Okay hear me out about Gakbyeol and Suhyen. Okay listen maybe they hate each other but what if they didn't. What if then. What if they made out in Ddotty's lab rps after recording (the characters, again, not ccs). My headcanon is that Ddotty records all the crazy events that happen and store them away for the gang to watch later when they're bored.

Anyways. What if this happened, huh? What if?

Suhyen, alone with Gakbyeol: My byeol <3 [byeol means star] Gakbyeol: My bunny~ <3 Jamdeul, who just walked into them cuddling: oH PDA- Suhyen: I- Gakbyeol: I'll kill you. Chou, who also walked into this: Aww. But also. Pda. Sunyen: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT- Jamdeul: *pretending to throw up* Gakbyeol: You all voluntarily walked into our lab. Coa: *walks in and walks out again* Suhyen: oh my gOD GAKBYEOL PLEASE DON'T KILL THEM (Coa) Chou: *making stupid comments about them making out for ten hours* Gakbyeol: I'm this close to snapping, bunnyboy.

---

수현, 각별과 단둘이 : 나의 별 <3 [별은 별을 뜻함] 각별: 내 토끼~ <3 막 껴안고 걸어들어온 잠들: oh PDA- 수현: 나- 각별: 죽여버릴 거야. 역시 여기에 들어간 초우: 아아. 하지만 또한. Pda. 선연: 닥쳐 닥쳐 닥쳐-!!! 잠들: *토하는 척* 각별: 여러분 모두 자발적으로 우리 연구실에 들어오셨습니다. 코아: *들어갔다가 또 나옴* 수현: 맙소사- 각별 제발 죽이지 마세요-! (코아) 초우: *그 사람들이 10시간 동안 사귄다고 멍청한 말*각별: 나 찰칵거리기 직전이야, 버니보이.

(same thing, just translated. I used google translate and tweaked really small things so it isn't great, but I think it's funnier said in their native language)

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GUYS WHAT IF.

The ship formed in my brain at the wonderful hour of 3 am and now they've made residency in my brain. For all my scu and gribzly lovers, I'm sorry. I've fallen into the pit and it's too late.

Guys but they.

Also what's with Jamdeul (잠뜰) and Ddotty?? I headcanon them as best friends just to be safe.

-----------

Headcanons (PRONOUNS)

-- Suhyen: he/him, xe/xem, bun/buns -- Gakbyeol: he/him, sol/sols (solar) -- Jamdeul: she/her -- Coa: they/them, he/him (in order of preference) -- Chou: she/her, dove/doves OR they/them, dove/doves (((changes))) -- Dotty: he/him

Headcanons (labels)

-- Sleep: straight (supports pride like insane. like. even more than some of the actual lgbtq+ in the group) -- Coa: pan [definitely not closeted, will fight.] -- Dotty: "straight" (questioning. he's bi), transmasc -- Chou: "mhm. women." [not in the closet. casual] -- Suhyen: omni (prefers men) [closeted about everything. his friends know pronouns. everyone else assumes he's straight] -- Gakbyeol: gay, demi. [doesn't talk about it much but if it comes up then he'll argue/fight.]

Other headcanons (reminder this is, again, about their persona/characters! NOT THE CREATORS THEMSELVES)

-- Suhyen and Gakbyeol's petnames for each other are "Bunny" and "Byeol" (which means star in korean)

-- Gakbyeol called Suhyen "Bunnyboy" once, and now it's his nickname forever.

-- Coa is chaotic neutral/evil.

-- Suhyen is usually really chill unless someone mentions food. Ironically, his favorite food is pork (he's a rabbit hybrid). After someone mentions food, we've lost xem. Bun ain't coming back.

-- Suhyen gives major bottom energy. I'm not sorry.

-- Jamdeul does whatever she wants. Dotty can't stop her. No one can.

-- Besides maybe Chou. Actually, second thought. Chou would definitely support Jamdeul when she's feeling chaotic.

-- Jamdeul has two moods. Tired and done with it, or chaotic and literally the devil. Even Coa is afraid of her in those moods.

-- Gakbyeol is really closed off and almost never admits sols affection for the gang™.

-- It had been an ongoing bit that Suhyen and Gakbyeol hates each other, so everyone was surprised when they found out the pair made out everyday every year every second.

-- Dotty is so gullible bruh. The poor guy. (psst. 32.)

-- If the characters were in a DND game, Dinosuar (공룡) would be the DM.

-- I forgot about Dinosaur completely, tbh. I'm not going to spell out Gonglyong every time I talk about him so Dinosuar or Dino it is.

-- In a survival island situation, Suhyen would take all the food and take the responsibility of rations and treat every bit of food like his children.

-- Also in a survival situation, Coa or Jamdeul would suggest they just swim in the ocean to (South) Korea. All the way. No food. Just swim. Gakbyeol would quietly build a tent and only let Suhyen in "out of pity".

-- Also also in the survival island situation, Gakbyeol would definitely find a random mirror lying around and admire himself. Or die because he can't take a proper shower and looks "ugly".

-- Not really a headcanon but if Suhyen started reading audiobooks I would get them (the cc).

-- Back to headcanons. Suhyen would read stuff/talk about stuff and post them on Spotify (He would start a podcast probably because of a dare or peer pressure). Gakbyeol would casually listen to them.

-- Gakbyeol is traumatized by pianos. He doesn't want to talk about it. (Reference to one of his videos)

-- Everyone in the group (maybe minus Coa, sorry.) can sing really well but only Dotty sings regularly and proudly in front of everyone else. Jamdeul sings when she's alone and would kill if anyone walked into it. Chou would casually hum.

-- Gakbyeol is really standoffish and everyone who doesn't know him well dislikes him. But he's pretty reliable and he expresses his affection through criticism and arguing. If he actually hated you, he wouldn't interact with you. Not even a glance. As if you're a ghost.

-- Duckgae (덕개) and Rather (라더)(Pronounced Lah-ther, fyi) followed Jamdeul to the lab one day and they've been staying in her lab ever since. Duckgae dragged Rather into this. They and Suhyen get along pretty well. Everyone else (especially Coa) keeps forgetting they exist cause they never show up anywhere.

---------------

I didn't realize I ranted so much. I zoomed out I think. I have science homework to do sob.

I've been calling this little era of mine the Nostalgia Run.

#ditzy nostalgia run corner #long title but eh #sleepground #잠뜰tv #잠뜰 #Ddotty #각별 #수현 #dont know what else to tag #there isnt much people who use these tags anyway #by not much i mean ive seen three-two posts #guys help #i cant'#im trapped here #도티와 친구들

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wily-one24 · 6 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @rowark (If "anyone who wants to" counts as tagging, and I am going to, so there. If that makes you angry, perhaps you need a nap?).

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 56.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 1,248,713.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The main ones I have written for include Profiler, Buffy, Firefly, Veronica Mars, Once Upon A Time.

And most recently Law and Order: SVU.

I have delved into other fandoms such as The Inside, Rizzoi and Isles, Supergirl, and Heroes.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Memory Cloud - 1,413

Paint It Black - 1,320

The Blue Moon - 811 (it's the smut, isn't it? I know it, you pervs).

The Waning Moon - 783

Elmo's ABCs - 744

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to. I respond to as many as possible. Especially if the fic is fresh. But I have responded to comments on fics that are months/years old. I do miss some comments, sometimes I'm busy and my brain says "I'll get to that later", but then my brain is... not perfect... and it forgets.

However, I love responding to comments. I have made friends in the comments. I have the best discussions in my comments.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh, geez. Like, you're asking me, the Queen of Angst? There were LJ icons with "Jacqui + Angst = OTP". Maybe if I go by fandoms? Firefly's angstiest ending was "DIdn't Mean Nothin'", but also "Pieces" had a super angsty epilogue.

Veronica Mars' angstiest ending? I mean, they were mostly angst middles, weren't they? Super dark middles with hopeful endings. Veronica did bring out the optimist in me. She was so young, she deserves her life to improve after all the shit canon put her through. I guess if I had ever finished "Bitter Revenge" it would have been a tad angsty? But there would have been hope, becauses he would have had the baby!

Swan Queen, whoo. Um, OH YEAH, "You and Me (We Wanted It All)". HA, that was angst a'plenty. Even PIB and Memory Cloud had hopeful (if not happy) endings. But that one was... just some light angst for angst sake.

I mean I only have three fics with SVU, (two of which form part of a series), and only one of which is finished. BUT, I can with confidence say that "Wicked Game" ends pretty fucking bleakly and angstily.

(okay, so I went back to my VM fic masterlist on LJ, and whew, okay, so there's a whole bunch of "exploration" fics that don't necessarily change canon, just delve into it like "Neptune CA Mother's Club" deals with the shit poor mothers in Neptune, "Courting Disaster" devles into Logan's abuse, "The Tender Bruise" and "Bruises In the Mirror" were both angst fests that didn't end happily per se. Also, "The Ghost and Mrs Mars" was... not hopeful at all. Man, I *forgot* a LOT of them).

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

🤣🤣🤣

Ok, let me think. I'm assuming we're not talking smut fics? LIke, happy endings? 'Cause I have a bunch of PWPs which could be considered 'happy'. But... let's say what a reasonable person might be called happy...

I think "Sleep Perchance" was pretty optimistic and its sequel "... To Dream" was set to end in a much more positive place than it began. "Whisky Bears" was just a fun fic, drunken fun on a spaceship. What more do you want? And "Boobs" was just silly.

"The Best Deceptions"!! That was such a good fluffy sweet fic. It's a WIP, so no ending, but still. OMG, I forgot this one. It's my only real non-angst fluff fic.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I used the laughing so hard I cried emoji too early, didn't I?

I mean, I would say usually not. I have spent decades in fandom and Once Upon A Time was the only fandom I got hate in.

A small amount for "The Blue Moon", because apparently there was a second 'Emma as a stripper' fic and I was accused of plagiarising, but this was later rescinded because the fics were totally different.

And also when someone decided to get really spiteful and tell me they lost all respect for me because I dared to find Emma sexy instead of fetishisizing Regina for all eternity.

OBVIOUSLY, the most intense hatred I got was for Paint It Black. The vilest, most bitter things were thrown at me. In the comments, in private messages. I got death threats. I had rape wished on me. I was told my kids should be taken away. I was accused of trying to lure in lesbians only to give them 'straight cock filled depravity".

Because there was a man in one sex scene. Meanwhile, it was never listed as a purely lesbian fic, and the two ladies have canonically HAD male romantic and sexual partners in the past. So... not sure what the huge vitriol was about.

I sure did learn to TAG PROPERLY after that, though. My god.

Get a grip, fandom, get a grip.

No other fandom has been that unhealthy. At least, not for me.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, I do. I have written both F/M and F/F. I have also written F/M/F, M/F/M, and F/F/F.

There's usually at least ONE woman involved. I have not, nor am I interested in writing M/M fics (boy parts iz icky).

Most readers find the scenes pretty hot. I tend to be descriptive and emotional when writing smut. Unless it's a PWP, there's usually a whole bunch of motivation and emotion involved. Even when it's a PWP there's usually a whole lot of characterisation in there.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I tend not to?

That said, I have written one.

It was a Heroes/Veronica Mars crossover, in which Sylar mistakes Veronica for his recently murdered (by his own hand, natch) girlfriend Elle and perhaps loses his very unstable mind over it a little. Leading to a slight case of kidnapping, Keith and Noah coupling up Buddy Cop style for some cross country chasing, super powered hijinx, and UBER ANGST. The tag line reads "What Happens when a Serial Killer and a Serial Victim Meet".

To be honest, it was kind of amazing and I loved it. It was working up to be Super Dubcon, but hadn't quite gotten there yet. I am sad that this remains a WIP. I would have loved to have finished this.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I've had some fics put on GoodReads, but they took them down when I asked them to.

I did have one of my fic scenes pretty much plagiarised in Firefly. What makes it worse is that they used it for a couple I hate. I let it go, though. That fic never quite got the same steam mine did. There was no point giving it attention.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of. I think it has been asked before, but I am a little wary of that sort of thing. I lose control of it if other people change it.

That said, I have had comments on my fics in a completely different language and I used Google Translate to both understand and reply. I will make the effort.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No.

I am jaded. I am very particular about my fics and, as said above, I do not like to lose control over them (what, control issues? Who? Me?)

I am also heavily jaded for things like fic swaps. It's my own fault, I realise this, because I would put so much effort and write thousands upon thousands of words of fic and get a 500 word piece back and it really put me off. Again, I know it's my fault, I chose to put that much effort in, but still.

Wait...I am having vague recollections of something like a fic round-robin? I could not tell you what fandom (I assume Firefly, but not sure), and certainly could never link back to it or even know how to google for it. I guess that counts? BUt I doubt it, because I can't even tell you what the fic was about or what my contribution to it was. So... no.

Hmmm, I was also involved in a Season Rewrite for Profiler back int he day, but all those fics are lost to the internet heyday and you'll never find them. Huh, I htink my episode was called "Lady In Red". (omg, THE MEMORIES).

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Geez. Asking the hard questions. I don't know. All my ships hold a place in my heart, that's why I write them. So, the answer is... I guess... if you've seen me write for that couple, then THAT couple is my favourite in that moment.

(I like, I have had a few fic requests that I've filled that haven't really been my cup of tea, Veronica/Lamb for instance, or Jayne/River, or Simon/River. I don't like them, but I have written them).

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

All of them. ALL OF THEM. I mean, "Adam's Rib" had so many stories to tell and I could have gotten lost in "The Best Deceptions" world. Omg, that was such a happy, schmoopy fic. Let me go back up to happy fics for a sec...

"... To Dream", "Bitter Revenge", and "Girl int he Mirror" will be my sadness from VM.

and ALL my SQ WIPs. "The New Moon", "A Swan Is A Beautiful Creature", "The Girl of My Dreams (Is Giving Me Nightmares)", "Subject 3662", "Blooding the Water". *sob*. I'm sorry!!!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Angst.

Detail.

Lots of people comment on my phrasing and pacing. The way I string words together and have breaks and just bring forth the imagery. It's never just "and then this happened and then this happened and he put his hand here and she put her mouth there".

No matter where I am planning to go with a fic, i always start from a canon point and keep that canon history. I try to keep characerisations believable. They may get into plots and situations that they would never in canon, but I like to hope I keep their reactions believable and true.

I like to delve into the emotion of it. You know the tumblr meme "Put that guy into situations". THAT'S what I do. And then I examine the ever living fuck out of it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I don't have a beta reader.

Which is troublesome, because my hands don't work properly anymore. At least, not as well as they used to. I have what's called dupuytren's contracture. It's a thickening fibrous band around the tendons of the hand. My hands aren't restricted, so much at the moment, but it does slow down my pinkie fingers. Which means when I touch type, there are so many mistakes. And I can't NOT touch type.

These come out mainly in things like double capitals (ever wonder why so many times in SVU fics I have the name "LIv" and not "Liv", it's because that capital 'i' is harder to spot. If I type "THe" I see it and fix it. But my eye seems to skip over the "LIv" and "HIs" words.

It also comes out in the spaces in the wrong place. I will type t he instead of 'the', or 'ith appened' instead of 'it happened'.

I spend A LOT OF TIME, going back and editing sentences I have just written. The amount of times I have had to go back and delete/edit words just in this post alone is staggering. It makes things take twice as long.

I have had to work really hard to get back into writing. I stopped for a great deal of time, many years, because I was so bothered by this.

Add to that, the kidney failure gives me brain fog, so I have to spend a lot of time trying to remember the specific words I want to use. For someone who uses words INSTRINSICALLY, knowing there is a specific word I want and not being able to access it in my memory? FUCKING FRUSTRATING, I Can tell you.

Another great weakness is starting a dozen fics at once and being unable to keep up and then being overwhelmed and losing momentum.

This is how I have so many WIPs.

I keep that in mind now, which is why I am limiting myself to two ongoing SVU fics and THAT IS IT. No more until they're finished.

THough I have actually been writing SO MUCH lately. At least once chapter a week. So this is good. Makes me happy.

I get the feeling that I tend to homogenise my characterisations a little. But this doesn't seem to be a complaint of any commenters, so I try not to let my imagination run wild with me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I have done it.

Firefly fic, by necessity, uses a lot of Chinese. I used to know the html to do the hover type and would have Chinese dialogue with hover type translations. It was fun, because as is the Firefly traditions, you could have the filthiest things in Chinese and the censors wouldn't pick it up. (My favourite thing I wrote translated to... something like "Your mother sucks rotten beef sticks in hell" if I am remembering correctly).

Alas, I have forgotten the html for that. I am sure it's just a google away, but... I don't really need translations for English fics.

I also did a bunch of research for Trigidasleng. I never really wrote The 100 fics, though I did write some drabbles. I probably did more research that necessary for the mount of fic I actually wrote.

But, yeah, I think if the source material calls for it, you should definitely put the effort in.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Who wants a laugh? When I was in primary school, 3rd grade I think, we wrote books. We got to type them on a computer, the teacher printed them out, then bound them and we drew the pictures and coloured them in.

I still have mine.

It's called "Bugs Bunny, Brooke, and the Giant Banana", which was a combination of Bugs Bunny (natch), mary sue insert of my friend Brooke, and James and the GIant Peach.

BUAH HAH HAH.

But truly? My first fandom was Profiler. This is the show that got me ONTO the net, introduced me to fandoms and message boards and fics. If it weren't for those people, I wouldn't be here now.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Don't ask me to choose a favourite child!

Are you kidding me?

I cannot. I can't even do it per fandom. I love them all, which is why I wrote them.

How could you be so cruel?

Tagging: YOU, if you want to.

#fic meme #jacqui writes fic #interesting thoughts #introspections on jacqui's mind

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cosmicdreamgrl · 6 days

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oh! the pinned post 🥺💗 it really suits with your theme huh?! haha but anyway... HI STEPH! i'm here because i've read it a post of yours that really messed up with my own feelings and decided to came here to easy that impostor feeling you're having about yourself and your creations. so i'm going to tell a little thing about my own experience: when i first started this 14 years ago i constanly compared my things with another ones, when tumblr got really viral in 2010/11 with all the harry potter's content i was in the middle of it feeling mediocre because i couldn't make a proper coloring and didn't even know how to put sharpen and etc. like the great ccs alreayd was doing at that time. i saw every big network birth and huge other creators receiving that great attention after me and constanly made the same questions that you made on your post. the worst one was: i will never be as talented or creative as this person will i? and that is the WORST feeling to have as a creator. because you started to doubt yourself, your talent, your colors... and we shouldn't do it because every person has his own colors, his own style. we shouldn't doubt about the encouraging comments people left on our posts or our work in general. every single one of us has his own way to see beauty, so we must believe in that. i took so long to make my bangtan blog because i was so afraid!!! afraid of the people but mostly afraid of myself. i talked about it not long ago on my blog. anyway, honey please don't let this feeling be more than you are! you're talented, there's no "oh you like that person's posts more because she/he is more talented than me" it's your brain trying to confused you. tumblr creators has often this feeling as my personal experience can tell 😖 i particularly am very glad that you started giffing, i really am. because you make things that you like, with your own personal way to make it, your comps are majestic, the choreo gifs, everything and would never be able to do that and it's all fine... i love to see the improvement on your things... but you don't have to be so HARD to yourself. let things be as they are. if you wanna make diff things, so make it, if you wanna keep as you are, so keep it. everything is fine as long as you're comfortable with it. i hope i could make sense, i hate english, but it's the only language i can talk with my friends so... 😔 sorry if i interpreted your vent post differently tho. wishing nothing but the best, sweet. if you need anything, i'm on a message away 🌷

before i begin answering this, thank you for checking in in general pat, it means a lot to know that at least one person cared enough to. also yes, i pinned your post (which i'm very much in love with wbk) and realized it matches my theme perfectly. go figure lol.

as for said vent post? i wish i could say it was a byproduct of the time of the month but as someone who works in a creative field for a living & is now a part time content creator for this site, i think the imposter syndrome is an unfortunate but inevitable side effect. am i aware that it's my own brain playing tricks on me? yes. does it stop it from happening? no. deep down, i know i'm good at what i do; in fact, there's so much i've gotten better at and i'm proud of myself for it but when you see other creators getting more attention and love for their work? yeah, it can be easy to spiral and doubt not only your abilities but your worth and what you actually contribute to this site.

i'm doing my best to undo this mentality, it's a work in progress to be sure. i know you and so many others appreciate my creations, that's what keeps me going on some days because if not, i think i would've quit ages ago. truth be told, sometimes i still feel like it but i do enjoy the process of making gifs and trying out new things, so don't worry i'm not going anywhere in that sense. but i was serious about taking a break from posting for a bit, i'm feeling the emotional drainage and i need some time to recover before i get back into the swing of things.

i digress, thank you for taking the time to reassure me and honestly just being one of the sweetest & most supportive people here. i couldn't be more grateful to have you in my life, i hope you take care and i hope you get better soon (i saw your post about having an infection, ooft). all my love as always 💞💗

#i really needed this today ngl #it's nice knowing some people care #asks #pat ✨

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herdreamywasteland · 4 months

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Her

Note: I do not allow my works to be copied to another site or translated without permission. Please message me if you would like to translate or podfic my work. Comments and Reblogs are adored, constructive criticism is allowed, and hate or negativity will be swiftly and efficiently dealt with.

She was born at 7:52 PM, with meconium in her throat and unmoving limbs. The nurses whisked her away to vacuum her lungs and place her in an incubator that didn’t work. What a lovely way to start life.

When she was a baby, she cried all night. She didn’t eat or sleep, and threw up everything she was offered. It was a miracle she made it to one. When she woke up and wouldn’t go back to sleep, her father would stand outside and rock her, looking up at the stars. It was the only way she would close her eyes and stop wailing. She loved stars.

She still does. Every time she wants to disappear forever, she looks at the stars, and knows she is alone. And that is comforting.

She was the child that always had the sniffles, missed birthday parties because of the stomach flu, and slept through half of kindergarten. Every time she would go to school, she would get sick by the end of the month. She was almost held back in fifth grade, because her attendance was terrible.

In sixth grade, her and her friends predicted the apocalypse. January 1, 2020, the world would end. And she looked forward to it. January 1 came and went, and nothing happened. She was disappointed, but she was sure the apocalypse was just delayed. February came, and nothing happened, except for Valentine's Day, which she hated. Then March.

It was the last day of school before spring break. She made sure to hug all her friends. The weather was balmy with the sun dappling the ground. It was too warm for March and several of them made jokes about how it felt like the first day before summer.

At first, an extra week of spring break sounded fun. Just because some virus was getting people sick, didn’t mean she and her sister couldn’t wreck more havoc. One week turned to three, three to six, and six to unknown.

She was tired of her sister, she was tired of her dad, she was tired of her mom, and she was tired of life. So she decided to do something about it. And that something was stupid.

She got caught the first time, so she learned to hide it better. Her parents made an appointment with a therapist, and she didn’t want to go. She wrote out three escape plans, analyzing the risk, benefit, and challenges of each one.

In the end, she decided to go.

His name was Paul, and he looked like a grandfather. He was soft and smelled like cologne, the kind of cologne that seemingly every man over 60 wears. She felt bad telling him why she was there, so she made up stories.

Demons in the walls, seeing things that weren’t there, crying all the time. Everything had a kernel of truth, because that’s how the best lies are told. And she didn’t get better.

She got worse, and by December, she was still sick. Now her thighs hurt all the time, but she was better at hiding the pain, better at hiding the dumb things she did. And it felt good. Good to lie, good to hurt, good to be worthless.

Everyone told her she wasn’t alone, and that was the problem. She wanted to be alone. Nobody would let her.

Then, her mom decided Paul wasn’t the right fit. She got sent to a lady, Maria. Maria was nice, a mother who didn’t worry too much about doctor-patient confidentiality, as long as she didn’t name names.

The girl liked Maria, and told less fabricated truths. Words that were true, but not the whole truth.

She knew she was going to hell for lying so much, but she didn’t care. If anyone knew what she thought, she would be in hell anyway.

Maria called another woman, Ramsey, to look at the girl. Ramsey diagnosed her with issues. Phobias and depressions, lack of one chemical, too much of another. It was almost funny how perfect it was; a sick brain for a sick body.

She didn’t listen too hard, as she was busy reading the patient files that Ramsey had left open on the computer.

Really, it was a stupid thing to do. Now she knew all about an autistic boy who tried to kill his mother, and a mousy girl who jumped at every sound.

They put her on medication, but the medication made her worse. They pumped her chock full of serotonin, but that just made her want to hurt. Not herself, others.

The serotonin was a bad idea, so they gave her another medication, and upped the dosage to astronomical levels. They decided to treat her brain, even if it meant killing her liver.

It’s 7:52 PM, over 15 years later, and she’s still just as sick as the day she was born.

But when it gets too bad, she goes outside at night, just like her father taught. She goes outside, and stares straight up, till her neck hurts.

She stands like that, glaring up at the pinpricks of stars, and knowing she’s all alone.

And that is comforting.

#writeblr #her dreamy posts #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writer #tw implied sh #depression #poetic prose #short story

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chonkygingerwrites · 9 months

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I was halfway through a bottle of red wine and pouring another glass when I called my best friend, Josh. I knew he was home. It was a Tuesday. He always had Tuesdays and Thursdays off.

I called once, no answer. I waited a few minutes and called a second. Then, there were third, fourth and fifth phone calls. Still no answer. I drained the rest of the bottle and started sending voice memos.

“I’m getting drunk. Come over.”

“Call me ASAP.”

“Dude, you HAVE to come over. I feel like shit. Please help.”

It had been an hour into waiting, now the other half of a bottle of wine was gone. I decided to walk to his apartment. It was only across the park and through a graveyard. What was the worst that could happen? Besides, it was a Tuesday afternoon. I knew the paths backwards and forwards. I had taken that path drunk more than once.

I stripped off my corporate office attire. A white, starched button down shirt that made me uncontrollably itchy and a pair of grey slacks. My boss, now ex-boss, liked his people to look “their best”. I rolled my eyes at the thought. I hated the way those clothes made me feel. I kicked them under my couch.

I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. I had gotten fired again. This was the fourth or fifth job in just under six months. I wasn’t a terrible employee, but I had enough mental illness that it hindered me in certain situations. I was obscenely depressed. My meds didn’t seem to work. Plus, my doctor could never find a concoction of drugs to combat everything going on in my brain.

I sat on my floor in my underwear. I itched my chest. I had just picked my clothes up from the dry cleaner. I felt stupid for wasting money on getting my clothes cleaned for nothing.

I held my head in my hands. I knew that money wasn’t an issue. When my mom died, I had inherited quite a nice sum. I mostly worked for human interaction. It was nice having someone other than Josh and his girlfriend, Sarah, to talk to.

I gagged at the thought of Sarah. She was a rude woman that made snide comments about my sexuality. We get it. I’m gay and my best friend is a straight guy. I rolled my eyes again. I felt swimmy. My head feeling heavy as the effects of the alcohol were starting to kick in.

I peeled myself off the floor. I made the trek to my bedroom. I grabbed a shirt and jeans. I shoved my feet into some boots. I grabbed a sweatshirt, tucking it under my arm as I walked back into the living room. I shoved my flask, my phone and keys into my pockets.

I walked outside. The fresh fall air was nice against my flushed face. Wine was always the wrong choice for me. The rum in my flask was an even worse decision.

As I walked, I became angrier and angrier. I knew that Sarah had to be behind Josh not picking up. She had alienated him from all of his female friends. She thought of them as competition. I had seen the screenshots of her messages to them. She had complete control over him. He was so blinded by love, he didn’t see it.

In the past year, I had tried everything to get him to break up with her. I knew it was wrong to meddle, but she was toxic. I wanted my friend back. I thought about Josh’s face. His beautiful face. His warm smile. I missed him.

When I saw him, I still thought of that boy that moved in next door of my childhood home, but now, my intentions were different. I saw him as the handsome man he had become. I sighed. Never had I said anything about my attraction to him, but I was tempted a couple of times.

There was one night we were drunk, wrestling around his frat house, I thought he was going to kiss me, but one of the other brothers broke that up quick. He never mentioned it the next day when we were sober, so I never said anything. Josh was very adamant on being straight. I didn’t want to break the trust of our friendship by saying that his only gay friend had a crush on him.

I felt tears rolling down my face. There was a funeral at the cemetery, thankfully I went unnoticed. At times like this, I was thankful I went unnoticed. It had been a blessing in the past few years with my depression. I wore plain clothing. I never wore my makeup out of the house. I didn’t even style my hair anymore. It wasn’t worth the trouble. If someone noticed and complimented me, it was a nice day, but more often than not, I would get some homophobe saying something awful. That didn’t help with my depression, so one day I just stopped. I donated anything that was too bright, colorful or would attract any attention.

I snuck behind a mausoleum to take a swig from my flask. I slid down the wall to my ass. I couldn’t be bothered with standing back up. My legs felt like jello. My whole body was starting to feel heavy. I leaned my head back on the cold stone. I took another swig.

I wept thinking about the person I used to be, and what I had become. Depression completely took me over. I hadn’t dated in years. I stopped going to clubs. I stopped my drag performances. I stopped being social at all. I rarely left my apartment. I felt like a failure.

I took another swig. I had tried to commit suicide, but I was a failure at that too. I tucked my flask into my pocket. I shoved myself into the sweatshirt I brought.

It was starting to get dark. It was fall, so the chill in the air was rough. I had been drinking enough that I was still warm enough to sweat in my hoodie, but I knew I needed to put it on. I tried standing, holding onto the cold concrete wall. I shook as I stood. The effects of the whiskey in my flask running down my body. I leaned on the wall for moment until I regained my balance.

I used the mausoleum to steady myself to walk around towards the front of it. I took my time. I felt as if I had leg day at the gym, but for a week straight. I made a bad choice with the wine. It always made me feel funny.

I stopped to rest on the steps of the mausoleum. I admired its beauty as I leaned back on the steps. It was beautiful. The concrete was dark almost black. It had been painted with gold, but had worn down over the years. I looked at the plaque on the front, but it was too old to read in the dimming light.

I closed my eyes for what felt like seconds, but in reality, it was hours. I had fallen asleep in the cemetery. Not a new thing for me, but this time when I woke, it was eerily dark. Not a star, moon or streetlamp in sight. The nearest source of light was down the path quite a ways down.

I looked at my phone. I had a ton of missed calls and texts from Josh. They started concerned, but the last one said, “We need to talk. I’m coming over.” It was sent over an hour ago. I clicked my screen off and shoved the device back in my pocket. I rubbed my face in my hands. I fucked up.

Josh was the first person to help me after my suicide attempt. He was there for me after my mom and dad died, on separate occasions. He was there when we graduated from kindergarten, to middle school, to high school and college. He was always there, now after everything we had been through in the past couple of years. I think he was fed up with me. I couldn’t blame him.

My depression was swallowing me whole. I could only imagine that would be a difficult thing to deal with. I hadn't had a partner or someone to date in a long time. I was constantly the third wheel. Every outing had become uncomfortable, so I flaked on plans a lot. I would be annoyed as well.

My hangover was starting to settle in. My head still swimmy, but now there was an ache creeping up my skull. I knew better than to drink that bottle of wine. It had been a gift as a ‘congratulations on a job in your field’ present from the one and only, Sarah.

I tried to stand, my legs still shaky, but not as bad as before. I stood leaning on a pillar. I went to walk down the steps, but something spoke. Hearing a voice in a cemetery at night was one of my biggest fears. I had seen a zombie movie as a kid, and it haunted me forever.

“Hello? Can someone help me?” I heard a gruff voice say. I stood still. Like I was facing a T. rex. If I didn’t move, maybe it would go away on its own.

I slowly turned to get a better look at the building. I looked at the doors. The handles had a heavy board shoved in them. It looked like it had been done recently.

“Please? I am so hungry. Please let me out.” The voice was pleading. A sincerity in its tone. I rolled my eyes. I guess I was white enough to investigate. I walked to the door. My whole body was vibrating with fear. This person needed to be saved. I wondered how long they’d been in there for.

I shoved the board as hard as I could. The board moved, but instantly got stuck. The voice was shouting encouraging words at me. I could call for help, but who knew how long that would take. I braced myself on the wall, then proceeded to kick the board as hard as I could to try to shove it out. It worked. I was wearing my hiking boots. They had little spikes on the bottoms. They pierced the wood as they made contact, shoving the board out of the handles to clatter down on the floor. I threw my hands up in victory. I swayed as the adrenaline left my body.

I grabbed the handles to swing open the doors. I shined the light of my phone into the building. I was greeted by a tall man, he looked as if he was chiseled from the gods. High cheekbones, a strong jaw, icy blue eyes and long dark curls. I felt like I would melt. He was gorgeous. His pale skin was smeared with dirt. His hair looked dirty and matted. He smelled earthy, but also like expensive cologne.

“My hero.” His voice like silk. His words made me flush. My cheeks felt hot. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry, a knot forming in my throat. He took a few steps towards me. His smell was intoxicating.

I noticed he was wearing a black button down shirt, slacks and expensive leather shoes. I tilted my head as I pondered what in the hells could he possibly be doing here.

He gently placed his hand under my chin. His touch made me drop my phone. He tilted my head up to look him in the face. When my gaze met his, those icy blue eyes sent a chill down my spine. I shuddered. I also noticed his touch was painfully cold. I backed away. He let his arm fall to his side. A smirk growing across his lips.

“You know what I am.” He sighed. “I’ll cut to the chase. I need blood. Now.” I swallowed hard. Holy shit. A vampire?! I knew they existed, but I had never met one in my life, it was always wild stories from a group of us online. I blushed. It was always a fantasy to be bitten by a vampire and this guy was gorgeous. I nodded without thinking. He looked surprised.

He backed me against the mausoleum wall. He stuck his fingers under my collar to push it to the side. I swallowed hard as his fingers ran across my Adam’s apple. I thought my heart would beat hard enough to break through my ribs. He leaned into my neck sniffing me. I felt hotter than I had ever felt before. I felt that familiar creep of heat in my lower stomach. I had an erection, thankfully my sweatshirt was long enough to cover it.

“You smell like seawater.” He whispered. Interesting. I think I used a fragrance free deodorant today.

“I’m sorry?” My inflection turning up at the end of my apology. He chuckled and pressed himself against me. His leg brushed against my cock. I bit my lip trying not to moan, eliciting a whimper. It was gentle, but firm touch. I was panting. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and he hadn’t even bitten me yet.

“You’re hard.” He nearly moaned against my ear, his lips grazing me as he spoke. A lightning bolt of lust shooting down my body made me shudder hard. I was embarrassed, but this was the most intimate interaction I’d had in years.

“Please... just ignore it.” I closed my eyes, tilted my head and proceeded to word vomit all over this Adonis. “I just haven’t been touched by anyone in a long time, and you’re like super hot. Unbelievably hot. This is a fantasy...” He cupped his hand over my mouth. My eyes shot open. I used my peripherals to look at him. He had a smile on his face, big, toothy, showing his fangs.

“Calm yourself. I can take care of you when I’m done if you want.” I thought my eyes would fall from my head.

He leaned back into my neck, licking the skin there. I felt my toes curling in my boots. He bit down on my neck. Icy, painful, and I could hear my skin pop open. I moaned against his hand with abandon. This was hotter than anything I could have ever imagined. I would have a satisfying fantasy for life. I heard him taking gulps. I felt a little dizzy.

He pulled his head back licking his lips. His head lulled back growling. When his head leaned back, his hips ground into mine. I moaned even louder against his palm. His head snapped forward, he ground his hips into mine again as he uncovered my mouth, then kissed me. It felt like I was struck by lightning. I swear I saw sparks before closing my eyes and melting into his kiss. I moaned into his mouth. He slipped his tongue in, massaging my own with his.

His hands moved to my hips. He pulled me in closer, our bodies melding together. He ground his hips into me again, this time harder. I felt his erection rub against mine. I thought I was going to cum just from that. My hands laced through his hair. My fingers getting tangled in the mess. My hands were at the base of his skull. I pressed him firmer into our kiss. He broke the kiss, biting at my bottom lip as he pulled away. I groaned in protest.

“What would you like me to do to you?” He whispered into my lips. I wanted him to do things to me that I had never considered doing in my regular life, but I had fantasized about. I licked my lips. I honestly didn’t know what to say. I could barely think. I felt like my cheeks were going to catch fire. His eyes piercing into mine.

“Would you fuck me?” I asked, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. He forced his tongue back into my mouth. He pressed against me harder, pushing me against the cold concrete of the mausoleum. He pulled back.

“Here?” I nodded. He licked his lips as he smiled. He released his grasp on me, turning me around, then unbuttoning my pants before kneeling behind me.

He pulled my pants and underwear down to my ankles. The cold air hitting my cock made my whole body shiver. He roughly pulled my ass cheeks apart, before licking the rim of my hole. I jerked away slightly in surprise. He bit my ass in response.

“Don’t move.” He warned. I braced myself on the wall. My face to the wall, the cold concrete cooling me. I pushed my hips back towards him. He growled, then bit the other cheek. I moaned. This was hotter than anything I could have imagined.

He pulled me apart before licking me again. I felt like I was shaking I was trying hard to stay still. His tongue tracing me, then entering me slow. I was going to burst before he could be inside me. He placed a sloppy kiss into my hole, his full tongue entering me, swirling inside, massaging my inner walls. As he pulled away, he spit into me. I felt a cold finger prodding at me. I shivered at the contact, but it soon acclimated to my temperature. He slipped in with ease. I felt like I was sopping wet.

I heard him spit again, pulling his finger out of me. This time, two fingers pushed in. I groaned. It stung as he stretched me open, but it felt astonishing. He was thrusting at a decent pace, crooking his fingers trying to find my prostate. My vision blurred as he found it. I yelped. He withdrew his fingers. He spread me open further before putting his mouth back on me. He pressed his tongue in far enough that it could flick that wonderful little button inside me. I shook as I came. The pads of my fingers scraping against the concrete as I held myself up.

I was thankful for the cold of concrete. If it weren't for that, I felt like I would catch fire. I was panting, trying to catch my breath. My mouth felt dry. I felt him move behind me. He whispered in my ear.

“Just because you came doesn’t mean I’m done with you.” His words made me shudder. I felt his cock at my entrance. He had a firm hold on my hip. He slowly pushed inside. He pushed in and out a few times helping me adjust before he was fully sheathed inside. Both hands gripped me now. He rested his head on my shoulder.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He groaned. He stilled. I wanted him so badly to move. I wiggled my hips trying to entice him to move. He gripped harder. Stilling me. “Just a moment, please.” I nodded.

He slowly started to pump into me. I moaned low and long. This felt amazing. A fantasy come to life. He quickened his pace. Thrusting forward as he pulled my hips back. I was already hard again. He stopped for moment, kicking my legs further apart and pulling me back a little further, so I was at more of a right angle.

Then, he started to fuck me at an obliterating pace. His cock hitting my prostate dead on. I felt like I was moaning loud enough to draw attention. He chuckled behind me.

“You're gonna wake the dead if you keep that up.” He joked. I bit my lip, I was trying to moan through my gritted teeth. I felt one of his hands move from my hip to the back of my neck. His fingers lacing in my hair, he pulled my head back. “I didn’t say stop.” I moaned even louder. His laugh ringing in my ears.

He was thrusting even faster now. He paused for a second to spit onto my hole. He pumped into me with ease. I thought I’d die from the build up before I came nearly screaming. He pumped into me, struggling as I clenched down around him. I felt his thrusts become erratic as he came. He withdrew from me. I hissed at the loss of contact, but also the sting of pain. It had been so long since I had been fucked.

My hands shook as I reached down to pull up my pants. I grabbed my phone off the floor. Thankfully I had a case on it. I shoved it into my pocket. I was sweaty, cold and sobering up to the point that my hangover was pulsating. My brain thumping against my skull. I turned to face him. He looked perfect still. No sweat or flushed face. Just a smirk across his lips.

I reached into my pocket to grab my flask. I took a swig. I needed to calm my nerves again. The realization of fucking a vampire came creeping into my brain. I couldn’t believe it. I had not only fucked a vampire, but a complete stranger. I didn’t even know his name. I felt instant guilt. I had never done something like that before. Never not even a single one-night stand. I took another swig.

“Do you have a drinking problem?” He asked, tilting his head. I shook my head no. I tucked the flask back into my pocket.

“My mouth was dry and it’s all I have to drink.” I joked. He nodded. He took a step towards me. He put his hand under my chin.

“Please allow me to walk you home.” I blushed. I nodded. It was sweet the way he said it. I told him I didn’t live far, and it was a fairly quick walk that he didn’t have to, but he insisted.

We chatted as he walked me home. I was feeling talkative due to the whiskey. He asked me the date, when I told him he was surprised. He thought it had only been a couple of days trapped in there, but it was more than a week. He said a friend had lured him out there. I could hear the anger and betrayal as he recounted the details his story to me.

An old friend had come back into his life. She wanted help on something. She was a witch and needed vampire blood for a spell. Which is fine, but she didn’t want her boyfriend knowing about it. There was a rule in her coven to keep her secret until marriage. She told him to meet her at the cemetery. Not knowing the whole coven would be there to cast spells on him before locking him the mausoleum. He said the door handles were made from silver. That they had bound him with silver, it took several days of fighting against it to release himself. He was weak when I had come. He said he heard me outside, but he had to wait until dark to call out. Then, he couldn’t get me to answer him. It must’ve been when I passed out.

“What a shitty friend.” I commented. He smiled at me, then nodded.

“I shouldn’t have expected her to be alone. She has always been a manipulative bitch. Constantly causing some kind of chaos wherever she goes.” He said with a sigh. “When I see her again, I might reach into her chest and rip out her heart.” My eyes widened. I’m sure he could do it to.

We came out of the cemetery to the park. There was a group of teenagers on the playground equipment. I could smell their cigarettes and weed. Josh and I used to do the same thing once upon a time. B.S. Before Sarah.

My phone ringing scared the shit out of me. I stopped walking. I frantically fished it out of my pocket. It was Josh. I didn’t know if I should answer it or not. I clicked the power button turning the sound off before shoving it back into my pocket.

“Don’t tell me that was your boyfriend?” The vampire asked. I shook my head no as I started walking again.

“He’s my best friend. I called him a bunch earlier when I was drinking. I regret it now. We’ve had a strained relationship as of lately.” I admitted. It was easier to admit things to a stranger than a friend. I gave him a brief synopsis of our friendship.

We had become friends when his parents moved in next to mine. We were inseparable even through my awkward years of coming into my sexuality. Josh had always been my defender. Then, we went to college together. Josh being there through all my struggles. I told the vampire that the girl he was dating came between us often. I told him that I had always had feelings for Josh, but I would never act on them because I knew he was straight. The vampire smiled at me.

“Trust me. I’ve been there. It is hard when you have feelings for someone that will never love you back. Hopefully, you two can salvage your friendship.” I smiled. He was so nice. I stopped. The vampire took a few steps before stopping and turning to me. I extended my hand.

“My name is Fredrick, but you can call me Freddie.” He smiled, extended his arm and grasped my hand. He shook it firmly.

“Garrett, nice to put a name to such a pretty face.” His words made me flush. Even my nose felt hot. I had to look away. He hadn’t released my hand yet, he took the opportunity to pull me into him. He hugged me tight.

“First time fucking a stranger?” Garrett asked. I nodded into his chest. I inhaled his earthy smell.

As I took in his scent, I felt that creep of warmth in my lower stomach again. I was confused. For over a year of being on medication roulette, I had absolutely no sex drive. Nothing. Not even a morning hard on for a year. I had stopped taking medication only a couple of weeks ago. I honestly thought my dick had become a decoration. I swallowed hard. I cleared my throat and pushed away. I pointed in the direction of my apartment building.

Garrett followed me. He asked me what I did for a living. I laughed. I explained that I was chronically unemployed. I tried hard to get a job in my field, but it was hard. There wasn’t a huge need for editors or people with a Master’s Degree in Creative Writing. I told him I wanted to create, write, publish my work, but everything went south after I graduated.

“Not only the job market, but that’s also when my mom died. It was really hard on me. I’ve been trying to keep a job, but I found out I am not very skilled in certain fields.” I paused. I laughed as I recounted the tale of my hour on the job as a server. The poor owner gave me a hundred bucks to never come back. He laughed at me.

“I’ve invested enough to live plenty of lifetimes with my stocks. I think I haven’t worked a day since becoming a vampire.” He laughed. “Believe it or not, I used to be a farm hand.”

“It explains your body.” I said without thinking. As the realization hit me, I flushed from my cheeks to chest. I felt sweaty again, but I hoped it was from the whiskey. I quickened my steps. I heard him trying to muffle a laugh.

We came up on my apartment building. Most of the windows looked dark or had a dim light peeking through curtains. It was a nice building. A nice neighborhood with decently sized apartments at a fair price. Sarah had the audacity to refer to my complex as ‘the slums’. She lived in a huge loft, it confused me on how someone who also seemed to be chronically unemployed could afford it. I shook the thoughts of her out of my head.

I fished around in my pockets looking for my keys. As I pulled them out, another call from Josh was coming in. My phone fell from my pocket to the ground. I just stared at it. I didn’t even want to pick it up. After all these years, I didn’t want to talk to him. I honestly wanted to vomit thinking of hearing his voice.

Garrett bent and picked it up for me. He placed it in my palm as Josh hung up, or it went to voicemail. I turned my phone on silent before shoving it back in my pocket. Garrett cocked his eyebrow.

“From the details you spoke of earlier, wouldn’t you want to talk to him?” He asked, his gruff voice making me feel flutters in my stomach. I shook my head no. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I stared at the ground as I made it up the steps to unlock the door to the building. Garrett stood right behind me.

“I thought you were just walking me home.” I stated turning to look at him. His face cocky and full of attitude.

“I mean, you live here, but the building isn’t your home. It’s proper for a gentleman to walk you to the door.” He said crossing his arms over his chest. As he crossed his arms, I saw his muscles flex under his shirt. I swallowed hard and looked away. My hand was shaking as I unlocked the door.

I had him follow me in. The building was small with only three floors. I lived on the third floor to the back of the complex. It was nice and quiet. I had miraculously caught the apartment building before it went public. I got to tour the whole building and have my pick of the litter so to speak.

He walked softer than I expected. I kept turning to see if he was still there. For such a big guy, I didn’t expect it. Maybe it was a vampire thing? Then, I had a string of invasive thoughts. Which rumors were true of vampires? Silver? Mirrors? Garlic? Being invited in? Were there truths in movies and shows? He said the sunlight thing and the silver thing. I got so lost in thought I stood at the top of the stairs trying to remember every vampire thing I had ever come across.

Garrett standing behind me, seeing me in my stupor, gently lifted my hair and blew air on the back of my neck. It was cold. I shivered back into reality. Embarrassed, I walked in silence to my door, as quickly as my feet would take me.

I shook as I put the keys in my door. I needed to get inside. I needed a hot shower to wash this weird night behind me. I didn’t open the door. It came swinging open. Josh threw open the door. The scowl on his face sent chills down my spine. His angry eyes flitted over to Garrett. The scowl of anger turned to one of disgust.

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sevnthhart-a · 11 months

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Meta + Midgar

shaking u ever so gently for this because i have thoughts ( prompt )

two very vital points i feel should be remembered before getting into this : tifa is around 14 / 15 when crisis core occurs ( possibly near her 16th birthday , i can't remember . she was still so young — that's what gets me the most ) & she just witnessed a rather gruesome scene, without being granted a moment to really process everything. i'm primarily going to be focusing on her experience at the start — touching more on the emotional state she may have been in than the external factors that might've influenced her time there.

her life in midgar, despite having its good moments, was the lowest & loneliest time in her life. i have two main reasons for this, but i also wanna briefly comment on her wellbeing while in edge.

i. reason 1 : zangan. he finds tifa at the reactor & rescues her from being another one of hojo's lab experiments. he attempts to heal her, to no avail, & ends up bringing her to a trusted doctor in midgar. he doesn't stick around because he doesn't like that city. i completely understand if she was holding some partial resentment towards him because of that. i'm not entirely sure if she knew he had also been injured by sephiroth ( ❛ i can't even jump anymore . but i hope you continue to sharpen your skills & remember what i taught you . ❜ ) — she had possibly believed he had dumped her off there & made a run for it. the letter found later on had to have given her some closure & allowed her to heal from this one sided conflict with him, but that doesn't really change the fact that tifa could've easily felt abandoned. ( side note : i've been racking my brain all morning but i sincerely can't remember if she does get a chance to see him off . context clues tell me no but it's been a hot minute sadhsfk my point still stands — there would have been some lingering feeling of disappointment , anger , etc . because he left her there alone . if she isn't mad , i sure as hell would be askdjks )

ii. reason 2 : general — the odds were stacked against her from the very start. imagine being a teenage girl, feeling such anger towards a goliath & utterly powerless while navigating a new city. given the way her emotional state seems to work, i'm almost positive she would've hit some mental slump during her recovery from that encounter with sephiroth — because she's human. however, because she's tifa lockhart, she was always bound to get back up. this is just one of the many times she'll have to start from nothing. whatever she knew was gone & the future before her was up in the air, without any sort of preparation ( because life just isn't fair enough for that ). all in all, the mixture of recent loss & the hard hitting realization that she was on her own now made life there total hell, at the beginning. i wouldn't be surprised if this kept her from really seeing midgar as home. still, it should be said that her inability to process grief in the traditional, chronological sense is so vital to her character development later on.

iii. edge vs midgar : the events that follow after ac can be interpreted as her ( realistic ) happy ending. she's healing, she's witnessing her best friend healing, she's created a new life from nothing ( once again ) that brings her genuine joy, & she knows everyone she holds dear to her heart is now safe. edge is her new home because it's where this special little family of hers ( notably sharing a similar sense of loss / disconnect of blood ties ) has decided to plant their roots ; entirely different from before, when she didn't really have a choice. the anger from the past has eased — it's no longer a raging flame of hate, but a soft candlelight that's only vaguely remembered when looking over her shoulder. midgar is where she had to learn how to start life over after losing everything for the very first time. edge is where she feels the most in touch with herself & others because, while she had also lost so much by that point, she had people there to start over with her.

#meta tbt #cloudvii #i'm having such hdjsdhsj dummy brain thoughts about ac tifa today </3 #but also hdsjdhjs the idea that tifa was a skip away from being in the same position as zack & cloud gets me everytime #this also feels more like word vomit than my usual content hdjshdjs dummy brain once more ✋

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subtletruamadumping · 1 year

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Suicide Jokes aren't Funny when You're Suicidal in a Room Full of People Who Aren't

______________________________________________________________

This conversation didn't happen... at least, not exactly like this. However, the coaches are incredibly nosey and ask a lot of personal questions, then get upset when they hear the answer. Sorry, my life is a downer, Karen.

TW: Graphic Mentions of Suicidal Ideation, Transphobia, Homophobia

Date Written: June 22, 2022

______________________________________________________________

Behind the front desk of the skating rink, all the figure skating coaches are putting on their skates gossiping, tying up their hair, whatever needs to be done before their lessons begin. Of course, I was along with them. I had a lesson that I had to teach today. I don't exactly remember what we were talking about, but I started to make “back in my day'' comments and jokes about how my age was affecting my joints.

All the more professional coaches, the ones who have been doing it for 20 plus years, the ones that were surrounding me, laughed.

“You're not old.” They say “How long have you been doing this? Two years? You're not old. Trust me, when you get to my age. You can say you're old.”

My face is down by my boots, making sure the laces are tight so I don't ruin my ankle again, as the words fall out of my mouth, without me stopping to ponder if maybe I should really say this.

“Yeah. Well, I didn't think I'd make it this far.”

Dead Silence. I mean really what did I expect them to say to that? These are the kind of jokes you make to yourself around friends who have the same kind of ideation. You don't say it around people you barely know. Barely even co-workers really.

I can feel the most nosy of them staring at me. She always tries to play everything off as a laugh though. So she says,

“Oh really? What did you have, like a plan or something?”

Again, I probably should have thought before I spoke, but honesty is the best policy, right? That's what my parents always taught me. And so I answered her.

“16”

There's another brief pause and I continue to lace up my skates.

“16 was the first time I tried to drown myself in the shower,

I mean.

I really wasn't.

It really wasn't the best plan. It didn't really make any sense in the shower. Sure, the tub didn't drain properly. So there was always at least six inches of standing water and I would just lay down and let the water slowly flow up over. And I would just lay there and slowly let the water flow up around me so like covering my mouth and my nose. But I mean, really, human instinct probably would have stopped me, right?”

I'm joking again, but I have such a dry voice that I don't know if the room knows I am or not. They're still quiet and I still keep my head down because I don't really want to look at them after what I've been saying. I decided I need to clarify a little bit.

“I mean, I always took a shower first and my sister always came in behind me so she always, you know, said something or did something that would stop me. You know, I was always okay in the end.”

This seemed to calm the nerves of the room, a little bit, but it didn’t last long. It was as if I was possessed. My mouth kept moving, my brain had gone entirely numb and I was not in control of my words anymore.

“After that, my plan was 17.” I blurted out.

I don't know why I was still talking. I should have stopped after that. I had already made the room awkward enough.

“But, you know, 17 came and went,” I continued “As much as I hated living with my parents I finally saw a light at the end of the tunnel. I turned 18 and I moved out. I started figure skating.” I gave a little bit of a laugh as I tied the last Loop and my laces and moved on to my next boot. “I mean, figure skating was the first thing I had done for myself that I really enjoyed in such a long time. I had my own car and found a job. Everything was okay. But, you know, Life is hard and rent, it's not cheap.

So, 18 came and went and I was by myself and feeling good and then 19 came. And that bottle of pills just looked so enticing.

I was coming to terms with being bi, I was coming to terms with maybe not being a woman. I had my first ever relationship and it promptly ended when he cheated on me with my only friend at the time.

I was late almost every month on rent. They were threatening to evict me every single month.

And all I could hear in my head was my mom's words, echoing. You're going to regret leaving like this.

‘You're going to need me someday.

You can't possibly do this all by yourself. You're weak, you're worthless.

You would be better off dead. I would be better off if you had never been born.’ “

I know they probably wanted to leave but nobody dared to move as I continued monologuing. I was being an asshole. I knew it. This wasn't their problem. I shouldn't be telling them this. I knew they'd probably think I was just seeking sympathy; being overdramatic. But I had been wanting to say this kind of shit for a long time and I knew if I said it in therapy she would put me in an institution.

“But, you know, things got better.” I said with a little bit more cheer in my voice, “I got better friends, who actually cared about me. I obviously broke up with that cheating bastard. For a while I was feeling really good. I had some of my first skating competitions and won Gold. I was feeling so proud of myself. Twenty years old, I was doing so good. At 21 years old, I actually had a stalker but I was mentally equipped to handle it.

I handled it like a champ.

I didn't even think about offing myself.

But then I moved away from those good friends who made me feel so right. The ones who comforted me. The ones who made me feel sane. I moved up here to where I am now.”

I gestured, as if, the rink was the whole city that I had moved to,

“I was alone in a brand-new City that I had never been to. I came to take care of my sister, but she doesn't want anything to do with me since I…” There was a brief pause.

“She hasn't talked to me since I came out. So, I was stuck in the city away from everyone that actually cared about me. And that's when I met my ex, the one who used to do such horrible things to me. And then covid happened and I was trapped with him 24/7. Yes, I would go to work and stuff. But I couldn't skate anymore. I had to stay with him every single day, I had to listen to him talk about, brag about, what he would do to me. I had to sit there and just take it.

At this point though, I didn't really have a date, I was set on. No more of this ‘I bet I'll be dead by the time I turned 17’ bullshit. No. Now that I was 22. Things were a little bit different. Now, it was, if I get pregnant, I'll kill myself.

If he tries to hit me, I'll kill myself.

If he tells me he's going to kill himself, I'll just kill myself first.”

“Oh but yeah you got out of that relationship, right?” One of the coaches offers up. “Remember when you said that you broke up with him a few months ago?”

“Yeah, that's true,” I answer as I finish lacing up the last skate “and I'm talking to my friends back at my home town way more often. So that's good for me too. And you know, I started hockey and that's been fun. It’s been hard and everything but I've been doing my best.”

I finally look up at all these coaches who are staring at me, as should have been expected. I give them a shrug and sigh.

“It's not nearly as bad as it was,” I tell them, “But I think we need to remember that. This is a journey and I'm still in the middle of it.

And times are still hard right now.

Being alive is a scary situation at the moment. Every day in the news, I'm hearing about horrible things that happen to people like me. Occasionally my grandma, or my mom or my sister will text me to remind me how much of a sinner, how dirty and disgusting they think I am.

I'm constantly seeing lawmakers try and take away my rights just because they don't like the idea of what I am. Just because they're so insecure and who they are. That they have to take it out on me. Having this kind of shit, bog down your mind every single day. It's tiring. And sometimes it seems like the best way is to take a permanent route out. Eternal Slumber and all that. But honestly, at the moment, the things keeping me going. Are knowing that there are people out there like me. That needs an example.

I might not be perfect.

But I can show others that there is some hope out there.

Surviving might not be thriving. But surviving is resistance.

My survival is a protest. Happy Pride.”

One of the coaches awkwardly clasps her hands and gives a nervous laugh.

“Well I guess it's time for me to get out on the ice.” She quickly ducks her head out of the room and many of the others follow suit. I'm shortly behind them. I don't want to get stuck with the others that are lingering and get asked a bunch of questions. I shouldn't have said anything. I should have just kept it to myself.

But keeping that kind of shit locked up, is kind of what got me here in the first place, isn't it?

#writing #my writing #poetry #spilled thoughts #writers on tumblr #triggering content #word vomit

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pagerunner-j · 1 year

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No one ever plays along if I post ask memes and that just gets depressing, so…fuck it, I’m pretending somebody cares and living in my own delusion for a few minutes.

CRITICAL ROLE ASK MEME ANSWERS THAT NOBODY ASKED FOR (except for me, and I’m in charge here)

1. Character you don’t particularly like, but will defend vehemently when people dislike them for the wrong reasons.

Orym. I have…issues…with Liam’s inability to let go of his dead character’s girlfriend, because not even counting Vax, we’re on character #3 who has something to do with or a deep interest in Keyleth. Wee little bit suspect, my dude. But if you ignore the matter of backstory, Orym’s just a little guy who likes pie, loves his friends, and is trying his best to do the right thing, and he’s an absolute kick-ass fighter. I’m enjoying him in combat more than anyone else on the field right now. Most importantly for this question, he is not boring just because he’s good or because he isn’t wearing all of his trauma (okay, a little bit of his trauma, but not ALL) on his sleeve. I really gotta wonder sometimes about all y’all folks who can’t get invested in anybody who actually has their head screwed on straight.

…welp, apparently I’m in a mood. Okay then. Onward:

2. Favorite unhinged shopkeeper.

There are so many candidates. It’s still hard to beat Victor, though, and Matt embodying him on screen that one Halloween only solidified it. LEARN FROM MY MISTAKES!!

3. Minor character people in the fandom are obsessed with that makes you go “them? why?”

Kynan. Let’s review: hero-worshipping nerd boy with stars in his eyes but no sense gets his ego bruised by being (sensibly) rejected for the adventuring life, and takes it so poorly that he runs off, attaches himself to an ascendant supervillain instead, and is there at her side when she murders one of our heroes. Then half the fandom (and, to my dismay, Matt even made comment about liking the idea) decides that he deserves not only a redemption arc (okay), but also to be handed Cassandra as a romantic partner and, I don't know, fucking consolation prize (NOT OKAY). Again, let's review: she's the traumatized sister of the guy he helped murder, who was abused and tortured in large part by the lady he decided to work for.

ARE. YOU. FUCKING. KIDDING. ME.

(remainder of this rant redacted because my first outburst was not kind.)

4. Minor character you are (correctly) obsessed with.

I thought about this for a while, drew a weird blank, and then my brain provided me with the Shadow Baker just because the name is so fucking funny. I would go to the Shadow Baker any chance I got. I want delicious shadow pastries. Shadow breads. Shadow cookies. Fruity, chocolatey, shadowy tarts. Shadow everything. Dusted with powdered shadow sugar.

And now that I said all that, I hope there’s also a Shadow Dentist.

5. Meta you would write if you did not fear people would be SUPER weird about it. This is also an invitation to write that meta and block the haters.

I…think I might’ve already done that. *looks upward a couple paragraphs*

6. NPC you would most like to see as the subject of a Tales of Exandria series.

I’d say Cassandra, except what I actually want is novels, and I want to write them.

7. Alternate outcome in a main campaign that you don’t necessarily wish happened, but that you wish you could see played out in an alternate universe before returning to ours.

The Sunken Tomb going differently,* i.e. with Percy ending up with the Raven Queen’s armor. I also would have color-shifted it. Somewhere in my head there’s an image I can’t shake of the gun-wielding White Raven, blood artistically spattered across his otherwise pristine feathers, because that dude still and always deserves to be as anime as goddamn possible.

*P.S. Since I keep tripping into rant mode anyway, here’s another: I hate dungeon design so damn much, and I have infinite sympathy for anyone who doesn’t think to check for traps on every possible object. A: No real thing is ever actually built like this. It’s just in games because GAME LOGIC. B: I’ve done enough time as a rogue to be bored to tears and dissuaded from ever playing the class again because I'm so sick of having nothing to do but check for traps every five steps. I have a hard time blaming Percy and/or Taliesin for any of what went down. Also, anyone who tries to add that Vex was being greedy is going to get an intimate introduction to my fist.

8. You may personally require that Liam O'Brien plays a non-core four (ie, not a Rogue, Wizard, Cleric, or Fighter) character for at least 10 episodes - he cannot in any way be one of those classes, even as a multiclass. If you like Orym, assume this has no impact on him. What class or multiclass do you have him play?

I want him to take a page from Imogen's book and go wild magic sorcerer. I want it to be as chaotic as possible and to fuck with him seven ways from Sunday. I want uncontrollable Polymorph. I want him to be beset with sudden hordes of flumphs. I want him to hit himself with a fireball like Caleb gone wrong(er). I want him to become a potted plant. I want Liam the prankster to prank the hell out of himself simply by existing.

9. Location in Exandria you’d like to see in a possibly canonical one-shot/EXU but with non-main campaign characters (as in Song of the Lorelei/The Darrington Brigade)

Mostly I’d be interested in places we haven’t been before. There’s a lot of Issylra that we still know nothing about…

10. Favorite and least favorite Matt Mercer Original Subclass. (edit mine because like I said, I'm in charge here. And also I read it wrong the first time. Oops.)

Blood Hunter kind of occupies both slots. For reasons.

11. A common stance within the fandom you would most like to eliminate on the specific grounds of hypocrisy/self-contradiction.

Skipping this one because stuff like this melts my brain. Except maybe for my rant above, I guess.

12. Best ship of the literal seafaring vessel or skyship variety.

The Joyful Damnation. …wait, wrong D&D show. (but please watch Oxventure it’s great okay moving on)

I think I’m cheating and just saying every skyship BECAUSE SKYSHIPS. Insert picture here of Scanlan and Percy romantically pining over the idea of having a skyship of their very own.

(I mean romantic in a general, conceptual sense. Not in a shippy way. Except that it’s actually about ships. Scanlan/Percy/Skyship platonic OT3.)

13. Favorite D&D PC (guests & EXU included but must be a PC) of ?

Brain still melted, sorry. THIS IS A LOT OF CLASSES TO COVER OKAY and so let’s just go to:

14. Describe the art you would most like to create or commission if talent/money were no object.

See above re: the White Raven. Also, someday I am going to put my meager artistic talents to the test and attempt to draw a single tarot card: Caduceus as the King of Cups. My friends, there is life beyond the Major Arcana. Please try to remember that the entire fucking rest of the deck exists and it’s symbolically interesting too so crack open an analysis book sometime and learn something please and thank you and I’m stopping there before I go any further into a run-on tarot rant that, again, nobody asked for.

I’m not sure what happened to my commas tonight. Sorry. It’s been a day.

15. Favorite one-on-one conversation (can be between two PCs, or a PC and NPC).

I can’t even begin to narrow this one down. Percy and Vex in the Feywild. Caduceus reading Trent for absolute filth (respectfully). Imogen and Laudna just…always. Jester and Beau talking tarot. Tary and Pike and the flashcard scene. (Oh, god, the flashcard scene.) Grog and Craven Edge. Fjord awkwardly but sincerely wooing Jester. Percy and Vax in the bathtub, mostly for what happens after (sorry, Liam). Keyleth and Percy talking legacy. Jester and the Hag and Laura Bailey winning D&D. Jester sending messages to…anybody. I’m forgetting, like, thirty-seven things. You can probably tell who most of my favorite characters are, though… *awkward cough*

16. Favorite group (all/most of the party) conversation.

Two-parter: the blazing row when Scanlan left, and later in that episode when the rest of the group met Tary. Absolute whirlwind of emotion and a masterclass in character from all concerned. Plus well-deserved Nerf-dart chaos and Laura ineffectually hurling wads of Kleenex. Can’t top it.

17. You know that post that’s like “I wish you could filter in ao3 on ‘attitude towards a canon event’?” In the world of imagination, you can! What’s the event or attitude?

Mostly I avoid this problem by avoiding whole damn characters, I’m not gonna lie.

18. Share one unpopular opinion but it must specifically only pertain to Sam’s ads.

They didn’t deserve to get crucified for the Wendy’s one-shot. (It was a sponsor, he DMed, it counts.) It’s not actually much worse than any other sponsored event or ad partner, and just because people decided to get all high and mighty about worker rights for this one company doesn’t mean that there isn’t just as much bullshit of a different flavor happening at other companies that they’ve happily partnered with and which none of you objected to at the same scale, or, for that matter, at all.

*side-eyes the fuck out of, oh, I dunno, let’s start with Blizzard*

19. You can swap one subclass (not class) for any one main campaign main cast PC. Which character, and what’s their new subclass?

*blanks out completely while staring in the vague direction of the PHB* I’m…claiming amnesty on this one. Sorry. T i r e d .

20. What non-D&D TTRPG would you most like to see Critical Role run a one shot in?

Blades in the Dark. Please, please, Blades in the Dark. We got close when Aabria started seeding in bits of it for EXU. I want more. It’s such a good system.

21. You can eliminate one ship that did not become a canon, reciprocated relationship from the fandom’s consciousness. It is entirely gone - no fics, no posts, no doctored out of context gifsets inexplicably claiming that Travis ships it, no anon hate, no drama. Your blocked tags list becomes several entries shorter. A weight is lifted from your shoulders, and you take the deepest breath you’ve taken in a long time. Anyway, now that you’re feeling relaxed and inspired, what do you think Bertrand Bell’s fighter subclass was?

Caleb/Mo……oh. Um. Bertrand. Right. I wish I knew, but as I have already proven, D&D minutiae makes my head hurt and I am tired and sad today and very smol so let’s go on with —

22. Assume that every single non-multiclassed wizard PC OR significant wizard NPC (includes EXU Calamity) are in a battle royale, and all are level 16. Who would you bet on as the winner?

Rincewind because he’d run away to safety before anyone could hit him.

…I don’t care if he’s not a CR character, I said what I said.

23. You can guarantee that Vax lives at the end of Campaign 1. However, you must trade his permadeath for the permadeath of a different PC who was dead for more than a minute. Your options are Percy dying permanently in 1x68; Scanlan dying permanently in 1x83; or Laudna dying permanently in 3x34. Do you choose to do so, why, and whose death do you trade?

Vax stays dead. Listen: Vax had a STORY. He had stakes, he had joy, he had sorrow, he got conflict and resolution and dramatic payoff to some of his deepest personal storylines, he got a bittersweet romance, he got his heroic sacrifice, he got the gentlest possible ending anyone could possibly have asked for under the circumstances, and all of it makes for an arc that has completed and is done. Everyone else would just have been interrupted before their story got where it needed to go (like, even though you didn’t mention him, Molly). Scanlan dying there would have served no narrative purpose at all and would have paid off nothing, and it would have deprived us of SO much good stuff in the fallout. Percy actually did get to a point where if he’d stayed dead, I would have been sad as hell but would have understood it, because the way that story built up, it made sense and it wasn’t cheap. It’s still much better that he came back and got to complete the character development journey he was on (somewhat despite himself), though. And Laudna just absolutely does not fucking deserve dying, not now and not for a long time yet. She’s just barely getting the chance to live for herself at all. Let her stay.

And for the love of fuck, let Vax go.

24. You can guarantee that one Evergreen Question you write is pulled on 4-Sided Dive AND that the four cast members you most want to answer it are on that month. What’s the question, and which cast members answer it?

What’s your favorite type of evergreen tree and why is it the Douglas fir?

….actually, that’s just me answering the question. Because #CascadiaNow.

(We have a flag.)

(The tree is on it.)

(*waves flag*)

25. What class do you most want to see Matt play if he is in a future EXU campaign as a new (not Dariax) PC?

I want to see Matt play a class invented by somebody else at the table. I’m thinking Sam and Liam should collaborate on this. (Liam because he can probably crunch the mechanics best of anybody, Sam to bring the chaos.)

26. You must swap one nat 1 die roll with one nat 20 die roll. They must both be from the main campaigns, but can be cross-campaign. Which are they, and why?

I’m having a hard time thinking of any I’d want to change. Sometimes the failures are too interesting to mess with. (Grog falling over dead in the snow, I’m looking at you.)

27. Pick one character, ship, or party; and one song you associate most with them, and explain why. This song cannot be on an existing playlist from the main cast. It also cannot be We Have it All by the Pim Stones nor Dust Bowl Dance by Mumford & Sons; I love those AMVs but please think for yourself.

- the whole party

- any party

- “We Like to Party”

(I am bad at character playlists, okay? ONTO THE VENGABUS WE GO)

28. Think back to all weird or bad opinions (pertaining to Critical Role) you’ve seen but which were not elaborated upon. You get to make one, and only one, person have to provide an honest response about what the fuck they were thinking. Which opinion do you receive the honest explanation for?

I have done my best to strategically delete these from my memory and am not going to attempt file recovery.

29. You can give any PC a Staff of Birdcalls. Who do you give it to?

Jester. This isn’t even a question. Just give her one now, please.

30. What is your favorite theory or headcanon that has absolutely no bearing on the plot and isn’t important at all, but which is completely compliant with canon?

The entire notion of getting that invested in headcanon mostly just wears me out, and I’m saying this as a fic writer, which I acknowledge makes very little sense. Yet here we are.

31. A really weird fey entity grants you the following boon: you can magically make it so that whenever people try to draw Imogen with glasses, the glasses magically disappear. All you need to do is hit the DC. The DC begins at 15, it is a simple d20 die roll with no modifiers/additions, and you can reduce it by one for every month you live with canon, pre-episode 2x26 Mollymauk Tealeaf. You do have your own room, but the walls are thin. After 15 months you automatically succeed and Molly disappears as though he had never existed. How many months do you live with Molly?

I’m in it for the long haul. I will learn to make my peace with chaos. I will make friends. I will maybe even join in the party. I will enjoy getting more of Molly’s presence and I will do my best not to go crazy in same.

Because fuck those glasses.

(I love glasses; I wear them myself; I give them to characters at the slightest provocation; but canonically she doesn’t wear them, so please just stop.)

32. If the CR main cast were to play the original 7 tombtakers per The Nine Eyes of Lucien (Brevyn, Cree, Jurrell, Lucien, Otis, Tyffial, and Zoren) in a one shot, who should play whom? Assume Matt DMs, but you do not need to have Taliesin play Lucien.

Hate to admit it, but I’m not invested enough in any of those characters to care.

33. You may ask any member of the cast one, and only one lore clarification question. What do you ask?

Mostly I don’t want to nitpick or pry, and honestly, most LORE(tm) as nerddom treats it both irritates and frustrates me. I don’t want to reduce all of narrative to filling out subheadings on a wiki page and then insisting that anything that doesn’t match up bREaKs CaNoN and is BaD. What I want is folklore, not Lore(tm), and there’s a very real difference.

On that note, I want Taliesin to tell me absolutely everything about Melanie de Rolo, and every other specter haunting that place from before his character’s time. Ghost stories for days. Bring it.

34. You meet an old woman in the grocery store and help her with her bags. In return, she tells you she can guarantee that Campaign 3 will be fantastic, and that there will be a Campaign 4 set in Issylra that is also fantastic. However, she warns you, the price is that Marisha and Laura’s characters will never be in a romance together, nor will Taliesin and Liam’s, though there will be significant queer romances aplenty, both F/F and M/M, in said campaigns. Do you take her up on her offer?

In a heartbeat.

ROMANTIC SHIPS ARE NOT THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

and pleading for personal vaidation via smushing your faves together because it HAS to be CANON or else it is a BETRAYAL and PROBABLY HOMOPHOBIC because YOU ARE BAD IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME WHAT I WANT is unhinged

neither of these pairs have to fuck ever

we’ll live

…sorry I think I started yelling somewhere in there

I’ll stop

35. You can set the time and place of the next EXU series, but it cannot be within 100 years of the Calamity nor Divergence. When and where do you set it?

Naples, 1973

36. Every cast member must create a main campaign character loosely based off a character they played in a one-shot not set in Exandria, a la Chetney from Chutney (as a result, Travis is excused from this exercise). Who should they choose? (Please note that Bar Room Blitz is set in Exandria. You cannot pick Jayne and you’re boring for thinking it.)

MANCUBUS!!!

Because MANCUBUS!!!

37. You have to take a 16 hour road trip with one NPC from each campaign (all at once, ie, three other people). The NPCs cannot shorten the road trip in any way and the road trip must be via driving but you can do it in two 8 hour days and share a motel room if you’d like. Who do you pick?

Tyriok; he’s the map guy and will get us where we’re going. Eshteross to bring delicious cookies. And Iva Deshin to read us passages from her favorite smut books from Chastity’s Nook and keep us all entertained (and Tyriok absolutely scandalized, the poor dear).

38. Assuming that your rent and basic living expenses are paid regardless, nothing cataclysmic happens while you’re there, and your race and class are perceived as completely average and nothing to comment on, which city in Exandria would you most like to live in for a year? You must spend the vast majority of your time there.

Whitestone. I want to get in on their technological boom. The intersection of magic and the mundane, and how those things inspire, leapfrog, and challenge each other, is my absolute jam.

39. Favorite parental figure NPC?

Veth had the best arc here by a mile. It’s hard not to like Marion, though.

39. What named but as of yet unseen character do you most want to see onscreen?

Imogen’s mom.

I want this story, like, yesterday.

#critical role #ask memes #in which page gets both opinionated and ridiculous #occasionally at the same time

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