#i know it probably doesn't sound like it from my constant apologies but i'm having a lot of fun answering these!

[amomentsescape]

Slashers Spend Halloween with Reader

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I'm honestly pretty bummed that Halloween season is officially over after tonight, but I hope you all had a great time! Thank you all for your requests and support on my writings this month. Stay spooky, everyone!

Freddy Krueger

Bar Hopping!

Are we surprised?

Freddy loves to have a good time, especially if it involves drinking and dancing with his hot partner

LOVES if your costume is a bit showy

Loves it even more if you both are matching

If he doesn't like the music that's playing, he changes it with the flick of a finger

If there's someone that's getting a little too close to you, he'll make them disappear for the night (and deals with them later)

And what's even better is that all of your food and drinks are free when Freddy is around

With the quirk of his brow, people are at his command, and no one will treat you any less differently either

Is constantly complimented on his costume because of how "real" it looks

But the moment your social battery runs out, he'll whisk you away into dreamland and cozy up next to you

But if you're ready to be out all night like he is, you can expect one killer hangover the next morning

Michael Myers

Horror Movie Binge!

Michael is clearly not one to go out

As much as he likes Halloween, a bunch of screaming kids or equally drunk adults isn't his forte

But he does like horror and gore

So just say the word, cook the popcorn, and grab a blanket because Michael won't refuse

He even lets you cuddle into him if you want since it's a "special" night

Will share some snacks with you

Probably won't use the blanket, but he's fine if you put it on him

Literally doesn't even blink during the scariest parts of the films

Just don't expect him to binge movies with you all night

Michael can get stir crazy easily

And since it's Halloween night, you can expect him to want to go kill even more

There are too many lives that need to be disposed of in his eyes

But he does secretly cherish that time with you beforehand

He promises to watch more films with you later if you're still awake

Just another reason to come home to you

Jason Voorhees

Walking Through the Woods!

Jason knows you still want to celebrate Halloween, even if it's not with a party or some public event

So what's better than a stroll through the woods?

You have to wait until it's dark, of course, and the moon is bright in the sky

He insists on taking his machete too, just incase

But he happily takes your hand and lets you lead wherever your heart wants

Loves to hear you ramble on about any current interests or hyper fixations

Especially loves when you bump into him or give his hand an extra squeeze

Will stop every once in a while to hold you close, trying to keep you warm from the cold night air

Also likes to watch you pick up random items you see on the ground or around the trees as you walk

Your constant curiosity for things makes Jason incredibly happy

If you guys manage to find a stump, he'll have you rest on it while he sits on the ground beside you

As you lean yourself against him, you share stories of what you did for Halloween as a child

Jason just listens in, content

Thomas Hewitt

Game Night!

It's actually his idea to find some spooky games to play for Halloween night!

It's up to you whether you play together or with his family

He kinda likes those traditional board games that change their theme just for Halloween

But he's also happy to try something new with you!

Will snack on random candies and chips you brought along for the night

Also likes to hear you talk about whatever comes to mind

He's honestly pretty good at the games and is able to beat you from time to time

Will play a scary movie in the background

You both don't really pay attention to it, but the sound is nice to have

If you lose, he always reaches over and squeezes your hand as an apology

But as long as you're having fun, that's all he cares about!

If you win, he claps happily and relishes in your laughs

You end the night playing a simple card game, giving you a chance to talk more and share what you love about Halloween

Bubba Sawyer

Carving Pumpkins!

Well, this only makes sense

Bubba and his family have all the perfect tools for carving pumpkins

And he finds the idea of jack-o'-lanterns keeping away spirits interesting

You have a bowl of candy and a couple drinks besides you both as you get to work

He definitely confuses the candy bowl with the pumpkin guts bowl a few different times

But he's honestly super quick with carving

It's all the practice with sharp instruments

He opted for more of a silly face while yours is a little more creepy

You decide to save the seeds later to bake for a snack as well!

Bubba turns on some fun Halloween cartoons while you both work

He even leans over to show you better ways to hold the knives and how to cut more evenly

Helps you light the candles to go inside the pumpkins once you're done carving

They both end up on the patio, lighting up the area with a fun glow

Brahms Heelshire

Reading Scary Stories!

His parents weren't big on such fantasy tales when he was younger, so he never got to read much fiction

But when you showed him some scary story books you still have from being a kid, he was intrigued

He doesn't really like reading, but he loves when you read to him

You both make a whole night out of it

You get some popcorn ready, turn out the lights, and even make a little fort in the living room out of chairs

You managed to find a flashlight to use when reading as well

He lays with his head in your lap, listening to you read the stories

You even managed to jump and grab him a couple of times, causing him to yelp

He actually ends up getting a little paranoid later into the night, making you read some lighthearted stories instead

Once he feels more relaxed, he ends up falling asleep to your reading

You smile as you get up to grab some blankets and pillows, deciding to sleep in the fort for the night

Norman Bates

Spooky Baking!

Norman has always been quite talented in the kitchen

You'd be happy only eating his cooking for the rest of your life if you had to

And since there wasn't much else to do in the middle of nowhere, you were happy to help Norman with his ideas

You start the night off with making some simple cookies

He made the dough and baked them while you got to decorate

You ended up creating little "spider" chocolate chips with a toothpick!

He then wanted your help making cupcakes

These took a bit longer, but neither of you minded

Norman had a record playing in the background, and it was easy to just converse back and forth with one another

While the cakes were in the oven, he took you by the hand and danced around the kitchen with you

Also plants plenty of kisses on your forehead throughout the night

You both took turns icing the cupcakes once they were cooled

Each treat ended up turning out a little different since you both wanted to create unique patterns and colors

And the best part of the night? Eating your creations together while watching an old Halloween film!

Billy Loomis

Halloween Party!

You thought it would be a horror movie binge, didn't you?

Well, lucky for you, Billy was down to try something different this year

Especially since the whole month comprised of watching every scary film known to man

He is obsessed with your costume, unable to keep his hands off of you

He isn't HUGE on parties to be honest, but if he gets to show you off looking like this, then he's happy to come along

He shares a few drinks with you once you're there

He doesn't like getting drunk, especially since he wants to keep an eye on you

But he enjoys holding onto the red solo cup with his arm around your waist

Occasionally whispers dirty things in your ears and plants warm kisses along your neck

He enjoys seeing how much he can push your buttons out in public like this

Will dance with you if you beg

But it's hard for him to say no to you either way

The night is cut short when he gets into a fist fight with a random guy for flirting with you

Don't worry; he plans on paying the man a visit later

Stu Macher

Trick or Treating!

You think you're too old for trick or treating? Think again

Stu finds you both costumes that make you unrecognizable

You don't think this is going to work out though since Stu is so freaking tall

But somehow, the adults don't question it too much

It's easier to not ask questions, it seems

He grabs your hand and drags you from house to house, laughing with you about random things

And once you both have your fair share of candy, he convinces you to play ding-dong-ditch with him

He may have stolen a pumpkin from someone's yard as well for being "cool-looking"

Asks to trade some of his candy for yours

Occasionally pulls you into people's backyards and makes out with you in the dark

And once most of the kids are back at home, he takes you to his place so you can binge on the candy

The night ends with a horror film too, of course!

Eric Draven

People Watching!

Although this may sound boring at first, anything with Eric somehow turns out to be fun

He sets up a little fort on the roof of one of the tallest buildings in the city, the view being in the dead center of everything

He makes sure you're bundled up in plenty of blankets

The candy bowl is full, and he even has some snacks and drinks to share

You both look over the edge and just watch all the people walk by

You take turns pointing out random people and try to come up with stories on who they are, what their costume is, where they're going, etc.

Always ends in shared smiles and laughs

He strums a couple of tunes on his guitar based on your request

Plenty of cuddles and cold kisses as well

You end up staying out a good majority of the night, only going back home when the streets become empty

Your safety will always be his number one priority

So although you didn't do anything super exciting for Halloween, Eric still made the night very enjoyable for you

And at least this way, he knew he could protect you

#slashers x reader #slasher preference #slashers headcanon #slashers preference #slashers #michael myers headcanons #michael myers x reader #michael myers #halloween #halloween movie #jason voorhees headcanons #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #friday the thirteenth #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #the texas chainsaw massacre #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire headcanon #the boy 2016 #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis headcanon #billy loomis #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stu macher headcanons #scream movie

[galexystern]

saving all my love for you

pairing; steve harrington/reader

rating; T

warnings; angst, fluff, mutual pining, not actually unrequited love, love confessions, accidental love confessions, getting together, no use of y/n, steve calls reader "peach"

word count; 5.2k

desc; “Um,” someone who doesn’t sound at all like Beth and a whole lot like Steve says. “Peach?”

You freeze, complete and utter dread filling your body. You slowly lower the phone and look at the caller ID. Staring back at you, in all caps, is the name Steve Harrington.

read on ao3 / masterlist

"Will you please, for the love of god," Beth interrupts your rambling, "either tell him all this or shut the fuck up?"

You close your mouth and look at her with a disgruntled pout.

She sighs. "Sorry, that was mean." You shrug. "I'm just trying to study and you know how important it is I do well on this test." You don't want to, but eventually nod a little. You do know. "I love you," she reassures, "and you know I'm always here to listen, but you do realize this is all starting to sound a bit...pathetic?" She says it not unkindly, with gentle eyes.

Your shoulders droop. It doesn't sound a bit pathetic, it sounds a lot pathetic. You've been complaining to Beth that you've been in love with Steve Harrington for oh...nine years now? Wow, it's been that long? You wince at the thought, and Beth rubs your shoulder soothingly.

It's not your fault you've been in love with Steve Harrington for nine years. He's the one who defended you from bullies in third grade, getting back the peach they'd stolen from your lunch. He's the one who gave it back to you with that sweet smile and hair that had just started growing into the luscious mane it is now. He's the one who became your friend from then on, turning into your closest (male) confidante and staunchest supporter. And he's the one who's been calling you "Peach" since then, making your knees go weak whenever he says it and gives you that smirk.

"I still can't believe you like him, to be honest," Beth says, breaking your reverie. "His King Steve phase was super disturbing."

You roll your eyes. Yes, Steve in his "king of high school" days had been hard to like—the constant rotation of girls he had on his arm, the ragers he threw that always got the cops called on them, the rude and slightly misogynistic behavior that made your skin crawl. But he never directed any of that at you. You were still his Peach, and the Steve you'd known since third grade came back around, complete with apologies and big gestures to make up for his actions. Sure, you'd been a little sad he hadn't wanted you to be on his arm, and you two hadn't been as close during that stage, but it was probably for the better. Being a "hit it and quit it" for the guy you're desperately in love with might've broken your heart for good.

"I can't go over that again with you right now," you reply to Beth. "You've got a test to study for." She gives you an unimpressed look. "And I," you continue, packing up the remains of your lunch, "have a tutoring session to get to."

You stand but Beth grabs your arm, stopping you. "Will you tell him?" She asks, almost pleadingly.

You know she knows the answer to that. You've been trying to tell him for a year now, since you realized high school is ending soon and he'll be gone. You won't see him every day, won't talk to him in classes you have together, certainly won't be tutoring him three times a week. But when you look at those honey-hazel eyes, long lashes brushing against his skin when blinks slowly at you, piercing you with his gaze, you always, without fail, chicken out.

"I'll try," you promise Beth and she half-smiles. It's the best she's gonna get and she knows that too well. She lets go of your arm and you walk towards the building, collecting your thoughts. As you enter and direct yourself to the library, you think maybe today will be the day you confess to Steve. Maybe it's really time. Maybe you can do it.

Opening the library doors, you spot Steve sitting at a table off to the side, daydreaming. He's tapping a pencil against his lips and leaning back in his chair precariously, staring off into space. You try not to smile at how cute he looks, instead staying quiet as you sneak up from the side. You drop your bag moderately loudly on the table and bite your lip to hold back laughter as Steve jolts, making his chair tip back and almost pitching himself backwards, before he catches his balance and sets the chair right again. He gives you a playful glare as you sit down, still trying not to burst out laughing.

"Not nice, Peach," he says petulantly, and you shrug. The nickname has stolen any words you'd had prepared, so you just pull out your calculus textbook and notebook, flipping to a fresh sheet. As Steve does the same, he asks, "And how are you today?"

"Alright," you reply with a small smile. "How are you?"

He makes a face. "I'd be better if I didn't have to worry about math so much." But then he smiles brightly and adds, "But seeing you makes up for it."

Your heart pounds. See, he says things like this that make hope blossom inside you and you think you're finally ready to admit your love for him.

But with the way he's gazing at you, grin on his face, body leaned forward over the table towards you, losing yourself in his eyes, the words die in your throat. He's not for you; you don't deserve him. You're just some girl he'd stood up for one time nine years ago, and he's Steve Harrington, the most eligible bachelor at Hawkins High. He has girls lining up to go out with him and what do you have? A hopeless crush and marching band practice after school.

"Well, with me here, hopefully you won't have to worry about math for much longer," you respond with feigned lightness. He chuckles. "Shall we?"

He nods and you two dive into calculus equations. He's a very diligent pupil, always has been, listening carefully and taking detailed notes. You can tell he really wants to pass this class. He's admitted to you on multiple occasions that he can't wait to get out of Hawkins. When you ask him where he wants to go, he always changes his answer—a little inside joke that makes your stomach thrill. Last time you'd asked he'd said Rome, so he could eat gelato and drink wine every day, and live in an ancient city. He has a soft spot for history.

Out of nowhere, the bell rings, and you and Steve both jump at the sound. You'd been so engrossed in learning math that you hadn't noticed how the time had flown by, an hour passing in what felt like a few minutes.

As you pack up, Steve says, "Hey, Peach." You look up at him. "You busy today?" You open your mouth but he beats you to it. "I know you have band. After that." Closing your mouth, surprised he remembered, you eventually shake your head. "Wanna hang? I've acquired some ah, mood enhancers." At his wink, you snicker.

"Sure," you answer. "I could use a mood change."

Steve smiles. "Great. Our spot? 4pm?" You nod; he nods back. "See you then, Peach."

With that, he gives you a salute and bounds away, out of the library and disappearing into the streaming crowd of students. You follow him, shaking your head.

;

You trample through the underbrush on your way to Skull Rock. Beth had asked if you wanted to hang after practice, to make up for lunch, but you'd blushed and said you were smoking with Steve. She'd given you a coy look and wiggled her eyebrows, making you shove her in embarrassment.

But then she'd gone serious. "It's time, okay?" She'd said. "This is the perfect time for you to confess."

You'd told her earlier that the tutoring session confession had not panned out. Looking at her, understanding the weight she was putting on her words, knowing she only wanted you to be happy, you'd nodded mutely.

"Good. Call me tonight," she'd added. "I wanna hear every detail." You'd promised to call her and given her a hug before parting ways and heading for the forest.

You've always liked walking through the trees to meet Steve, the tiny bursts of light through the foliage spontaneously warming your face. It'd rained last night and so the ground was damp and muddy, but you were wearing your gross pair of sneakers, since the field had been much of the same, so you didn't mind. Your socks were wet but it didn't matter. You were about to see Steve and maybe, hopefully, tell him the truth.

Skull Rock comes into view and a minute later, you could see Steve sitting underneath it. You internally scrunch up in girlish excitement at how he'd brought and spread out a mat for you two to sit on, so you don't get wet from the dirt.

He looks up and spots you, waving. You wave back as you tramp through the last of the growth and reach him. Throwing your bag to the side, you collapse onto the tarp as Steve licks and finishes rolling the joint he'd been working on.

"How was practice, Peach?" He asks.

"Ugh," you reply, and he laughs. "This new show is going to kill me. There are so many movements on the field, I'm not sure if I can remember them all."

"You always do though," he points out. "You get it eventually."

You shrug, hiding your delight that he knows that. He does make a point of watching the halftime shows at the football games and seeing you during third quarter, when the band is allowed to mingle. Of course, he goes to the games no matter what, as a certified sports lover, but still.

"Ready?" He asks, interrupting your thoughts. You nod, and he hands you the joint and lighter. You click it on and hold it up to the end, flaring as you inhale deeply. You hold the smoke in your mouth as you give the joint back to Steve, releasing it into the sky as he copies your actions. He outdoes you by making a ring of smoke out of his exhale, and you roll your eyes.

"Show-off," you mutter.

Steve smirks. "I can teach you, you know. You just always turn me down."

You look at him. You do turn him down each time. You're not even really sure why. You tutor him, why can't he? "Okay," you finally reply. "Teach me."

His eyes light up and he scoots towards you. He starts talking, about technique and mouth shape and how your tongue should be involved, but you're only half-listening. You're too captivated by how animated he is, how excited he seems to be by instructing you in something for a change. There are traces of pride in his voice, and you think he might be pleased at the idea of being so good at something that he can give that to others. He's mentioned that fear before, that he doesn't have anything to offer people, even though you always reassure him he has so much.

"Peach? Wanna try?" Steve asks. You clear your head and take the proffered joint. You inhale and try to do what he's told you, accomplishing a rudimentary half-smoke ring. He claps. "That's it! Now you just need practice."

So you practice. You two wear the joint away attempting more rings, Steve giving you pointers as you go. When the joint is just a nub, you take one last inhale and close your eyes, working hard to take all of his advice and try one last time. Steve makes an excited sound and you open your eyes, seeing a pretty good smoke ring floating away from you.

"You did it!" He exclaims excitedly, as you laugh in delight. "The student has become the master."

"I'm not sure if I'd go that far," you reply, but you're still smiling widely. Steve's face matches.

"Well, I have nothing left to teach you. You've got it now."

"You'll always have stuff to teach me, Steve," you say softly, remembering that fear that plagues him. He looks at you with a grateful expression. "Besides," you continue, "I still don't know how to drive."

"I can't believe you don't know how to drive!" He replies indignantly and you giggle. This is an argument you two have had ever since his parents had given him his BMW and he'd asked if you wanted to drive it. After revealing you didn't have a license, Steve had been properly shocked and bewildered. He's never understood why you don't want to drive.

It's not about not wanting to drive (though driving is scary). It's more about wanting Steve to keep driving you.

"You know how I feel about driving," you say back and he rolls his eyes.

"Driving is not that scary. I promise, Peach." An idea comes to him. "It's just like marching band!" At your raised eyebrow he adds, "Hear me out. You have to remember all the moves the car can do. You have to maneuver so you don't hit anybody else on the road. And it gives you a feeling of control."

You laugh. "You know I don't make up the movements, right?"

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. You know what I mean."

You nod. Trying to stay light, you say, "Maybe you can teach me."

"Yes!" He shouts loudly, startling you. "Sorry. But yes. I can totally teach you how to drive."

"Okay." You're smiling at each other.

"Great," he replies firmly. "It's a date."

The words make you freeze. The small voice in your head that sounds weirdly like Beth is telling you this is the moment. This is your opening. Take it.

"Um, Steve," you start. He hums, still staring at you with kind curiosity. "I, um, I wanted to..." You trail off.

He nods encouragingly. "You wanted to...what?"

But as he gazes at you, the words won't come. You try to force them out, not caring how they come out, just that they do, but there's nothing. Your mouth gapes like a fish. Your throat is dry. And you just...can't.

"I wanted to," you manage with a croak, "thank you. For teaching me how to make a smoke ring."

He sits back and you think you see a flash of disappointment on his face before it's gone. "No problem, Peach. What are friends for?"

You nod miserably. Coward.

;

Steve takes you home. It's quiet in the car, both of you deep in thought. You don't know what Steve is thinking about, but you're admonishing yourself for backing out, again. God, you're such a loser. What will Beth say?

He pulls into your driveway and idles. You get out, thanking him again for the hangout, and he nods amiably. You close the door softly and walk up to your porch, turning around to watch him back out and drive away. You sigh as you unlock the door and go inside.

You put off calling Beth for a while. You know you have to, she's expecting you to, but you want to live in this moment where only you know how much of a chicken you are just a little longer. So you have a snack, and something to drink, and finish your homework. Your parents come home and you help make dinner to distract yourself from the day's humiliating non-events. You push your food around the plate as your parents chatter about work, thankfully not asking you too many questions. The three of you sit and watch TV for a bit, but you don't really see any of it, mind still stuck on Steve.

When your parents give you kisses goodnight and head upstairs for bed, you know it's time to stop procrastinating. You take a deep breath, pick up the phone, and dial.

As soon as the line is picked up, you start talking. "Hey, so I know you said today was the day but I chickened out, again. I know I'm a coward. You were right, it was the perfect time. I mean, Steve asks me to smoke in our spot, just the two of us? What better time to confess my love for him, right? There is no better time, that's the truth. But I just couldn't do it. I couldn't make myself speak the words. It's so pathetic, right? Ugh, I can't believe I let that perfect moment pass me by. I'm such a sissy. You don't have to tell me, I already know. I just wanted you to know, since you told me to call. But I can't really handle any scolding, yeah? I know what I did. I know."

There's a lull until...

“Um,” someone who doesn’t sound at all like Beth and a whole lot like Steve says. “Peach?”

You freeze, complete and utter dread filling your body. You slowly lower the phone and look at the caller ID. Staring back at you, in all caps, is the name Steve Harrington.

“Peach?” He says again, distantly. It breaks your trance and you immediately hang up the phone. It starts to ring almost instantly, and you stare at it, brain somehow going a mile a minute and not at all. The rings stop but then start up again. Unable to pick up the phone, you find your hand moving to the telephone jack. As the phone stops and then goes again for the third time, you pull it out of the wall. The noises stop. Silence fills the kitchen. And you finally understand what just happened.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, over and over, still holding the telephone cord, still gazing at the receiver. Your knees start to wobble and so you stumble backwards, grappling for a chair, eventually grazing the back of one and whipping it around so it can catch you before you fall. “What have I done?” You moan, burying your face in your hands and pressing down hard. Maybe when you open your eyes you’ll be in bed and this will just be some bad dream and you won’t have ruined everything. But when you move your hands away, you’re still sitting in the kitchen, phone disconnected, terror gripping you tightly.

Not a dream. You did ruin everything.

Digging for strength, you use it all to rush out of the room and upstairs to your bedroom, where you slam the door closed and pitch yourself onto your bed. What have I done? You ask yourself again. You stare unseeing at your headboard, clutching your pillow, as you helplessly think about what might happen next.

Well, for one, you can bet that Steve’s not your friend anymore. That’s a given. But will he avoid you forever, ignore you in the halls at school, not let your name pass his lips anymore? Or will he make fun of you for your confession, saying that he’d never be with anyone like you in a million years, that he was just friends with you out of pity? Will he tell everyone, spread it around that a loser like you thinks she has a shot with King Steve, let the rumor mill rip you to shreds?

Will you make it out of this? You’re not sure if you can handle any of these outcomes. It’s why you’d chickened out in the first place, why you’ve always chickened out. Maybe you’ll have to change schools or even districts. Oh god, what if you have to move states to get away from the torture of it all?

You’re spiraling further down when there’s a small plinking sound. You stop and listen, and it comes again. A third time and you follow the noise to the window. You watch in wonder as something hits it—a pebble. You hesitantly walk over and peer outside.

Steve is standing below on your front lawn, hand reared back like he’s ready to throw. But when he spots you, he drops the rock and waves. You raise a hand back without thinking, and he motions for you to open your window. As you do, you distantly think that he would be a good charades partner. You slowly poke your head outside.

“Peach!” Steve yells quietly.

“What are you doing?” You ask, stupefied.

“You wouldn’t answer my calls,” he replies.

Dumbly, you say back, “I unplugged the phone.”

“Oh.” He seems thrown by that. “Do you…want me to go then?” It takes a second, but eventually you shake your head. He smiles in relief. “Can we talk?”

“My parents are home,” you answer and Steve’s shoulders fall. “But can you climb a tree?”

“Yeah?” The word is laced with confusion.

You motion to the side of the house and move away from your first window, hoping he’s following. You open the second window, on a different wall, and see Steve below. You point to the tree whose branches extend over the house, one of which comes pretty close to your window. He nods and starts climbing, and you try not to stare at his ass. It takes him almost no time at all to get to the branch and inch down it. When he makes it to the ledge, you hold out a hand haul him inside. It’s not very graceful—he ends up on the floor, but pops up seemingly unharmed.

“Hi,” he says, breathless.

Realizing Steve Harrington is in your room after you’d accidentally confessed your love for him, you can’t move or speak. You just look at him, heart pounding, palms sweaty, eyes wide.

“Peach, about what you said on the phone—“

You interrupt. “Wait.” He dutifully stops talking and looks at you expectantly. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the rest of the plan thought out, so you’re speechless. You’d just wanted to put off the inevitable rejection for just a little longer. “I, um, I’m really sorry. For that. Like…obviously it wasn’t meant for you to hear.” You laugh awkwardly. “Well, it was but not then. But it also wasn’t because I chickened out. And that was meant for Beth. Who I meant to call. And obviously…didn’t.”

There’s silence until Steve asks, “Did you mean it?”

There it is: a way out. An exit ramp, where you laugh and say you didn’t mean it, where you play it off as a joke and go back to being friends. But you can’t make yourself take it. You’ve never lied to Steve, and you don’t want to start now. Not with this.

So you nod and answer, in a small voice, “Yes.”

You close your eyes so you won’t see the look of pity on his face, will only have to listen as he lets you down gently. But then there are hands cupping your cheeks and breaths brushing across your skin and lips pressing against yours. You open your eyes again with a start to find Steve’s in front of you, closed. His hands are on your face. His mouth is on yours.

Steve is kissing you.

You don’t know what to do, how to react, and Steve pulls back. His expression is apologetic and ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I should’ve asked—“

You cut him off by surging forward and kissing him. He’s surprised but regains his presence of mind faster than you had, and his hands go to grab your waist tightly. Yours tangle in his hair, the beautiful hair that you’ve always wanted to run your fingers through, and you marvel at the way Steve’s lips fit against yours, like they were made to. You two kiss until you can’t anymore, both pulling back to breathe in deeply.

Steve is smiling. You know your mouth is hanging open in shock. Thank god it’s already there, because what Steve says next would’ve made it drop.

He says, “I love you too.”

You make a weird sort of noise in your throat and Steve laughs a little. You flush bright red and make your jaw close. “That’s not exactly how I wanted to respond,” you say in embarrassment.

“What did you want to say?”

“Um.” Steve’s eyes are sparkling. It’s distracting. “Uh…why?”

“Because you’re my favorite person in the whole world, Peach.” He says it like it’s obvious. “Because you’re the first person I wanna talk to when I wake up and the last person I think of when I go to sleep. Because you teach me so many things and make sure I know I have things to teach you too. Because you’ve always been there for me. Because you’re my dream girl.” He’s looking at you with so much adoration it’s hard not to combust right then and there. “Why do you love me?”

“I’ve loved you since the third grade,” you blurt out. “When you stood up for me. When you first started calling me Peach.”

“Even during King Steve?” He asks tentatively. He doesn’t look away but you can tell he wants to. He doesn’t like to relive it.

You take his hand. “Yes, even then. I knew who you were underneath it all. I knew you would come back. And I was right.”

He chuckles. “You always are,” he murmurs, as if in awe.

“I wasn’t right about this,” you sigh, looking down at your intertwined fingers. “I never in a million years imagined you would love me too.”

Steve makes a soft sound. “I feel like I was so obvious about it. I felt like a lovesick fool who couldn’t stop following you around.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I never wanted to scare you away. You’re too important to me. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t in my life, Peach. I couldn’t take that chance. I would take you in whatever way you would give me, happily.”

You look back up at him. His face is intense, serious. You kiss him so his expression will clear. “Well,” you say lightly, “now you’ve got me like this forever.”

“Good,” he replies firmly, and tugs you forward into a hug. You wrap your arms around his back and clutch at his shirt. He rests his chin on your head and sighs happily. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

When you whisper back “Me too,” he holds you closer.

;

"Okay, baby. R means reverse, N is neutral, and D is obviously drive. You have to pull the gearshift to the right letter to do what you want. So let's try going backwards, yeah?" Steve asks.

You are in the driver's seat of Steve's BMW, with him in the passenger seat. It's your first driving lesson. You're sitting in the parking lot of the high school, after school so it's devoid of cars and you can't hit any of them. Steve had said that he didn't think you would, but better to be safe than sorry. You agree—you can't afford to replace this BMW if you wreck it.

You nod to Steve's question.

"Great. Foot on the brake," he reminds, and you put your foot on the brake. "Has to be there for the gearshift to work. Okay, pull it to R, angel." You slowly put the car into reverse. "Now, ease up on the brake. Just a little." You do so, and the car starts rolling backwards. Your eyes widen and Steve places his hand on top of yours. "It's okay. Just keep looking in your mirrors. You've got it." You look into the rearview mirror and watch as what's behind you slowly comes closer.

"Good!" Steve encourages. "Let's brake again." You press too hard and you're both jolted forward as the car comes to a screeching halt.

"Sorry," you say quickly, wincing.

But Steve is laughing. "No harm done, sugar. Just maybe brake a little gentler next time."

You nod sheepishly.

"Now, you're not gonna need N like, ever. I'm not even sure what use it has. So let's move on to D."

"That's what she said," you automatically retort, and Steve snorts. You're scared, but not too scared to pass up a chance for a euphemism.

"I walked into that one," he replies, shaking his head fondly. "But, let's drive, shall we, sweetheart?"

"Okay," you say, trying not to let the pet name distract you. He's been expanding his repertoire of them, trying to see which ones fit best. But you like all of them—like whatever he calls you as long as he still says it in that loving tone and kisses you after occasionally—so he's just been adding more and more without taking any away. It annoys Beth a little bit—she's glad you both finally got your heads out of your asses and got together, literally jumping for joy when you'd told her about Steve confessing his love for you too, but she regularly complains about being the third wheel and says Steve is too mushy for his own good—but you love it.

You pull the gearshift to D and ease off the brake like Steve had told you. The car rolls forward slowly.

"Okay, foot off the brake completely. Press on the gas. Gently, honey," he emphasizes and you nod. You do as he says and press the gas pedal softly, and the car speeds up a little. You reach a stop sign and so you dutifully brake. "Nicely done, princess," he says, and leans over to kiss your cheek. Before he can lean back, you turn your head and catch his lips with yours. He presses forward into it, hand coming up to cup your jaw softly.

"Alright, beautiful, turn signals," he says when you've parted. "Lever on the left, press up for right and down for left." You experiment, smiling as the signals flash. "Where do you wanna go?"

You look at him. What you wanna say is "Anywhere with you," but you know that's a little too cheesy for the moment. “Where do you wanna go?” You ask instead.

He hums, thinking about it. “What about…Sydney? The opera house and the beaches and the beautiful sunsets on the desert.” Then he looks at you. “You interested in Australia, darling?”

You always get a thrill when you ask him that now, because he always includes you. Like he’s not going anywhere without you either.

“Sure, as long as you protect me from all those huge bugs,” you answer. “And the kangaroos. I’ve heard they’re mean.”

Steve chuckles. “Haven’t I always been your knight in shining armor, Peach? Been serving you since third grade. I can handle some bugs.”

“I don’t know. You get scared when there’s a spider in your house.”

“I don’t like them!” He protests and you laugh. He looks at you with that adoring expression. “But for you? I’ll do anything.”

You try not to show outwardly how gooey you feel inside. You just lean forward and kiss him again, turning back to the parking lot and stop sign.

You choose a direction at random. "Right," you answer and turn on the signal.

"Good, Peach. Steering wheel to the right too, ease onto the gas, and off we go," Steve directs.

You move the wheel to the right, take your foot off the brake and onto the gas, and off you go.

#steve harrington x reader #mine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic

[theflyindutchwoman]

Just a preemptive apology for spewing this all in your inbox lol 😅

I agree that this felt like the beginning of the larger conversation about uc. I feel like a lot of this storyline requires patience and that's why some people arent the biggest fans of it lol. It took this long just for Tim to get out of denial about his feelings. It's a pretty big issue so I feel like it would be unsatisfying and boring if all it took was one scene and one conversation to fix it.

Plus from Lucy's perspective, uc is something she's been working towards since she was a rookie (except for in season 4 cause I think the writers forgot lol). So I can imagine it would take a lot for her to drop it completely. Especially with her story before the show being her trying to find a career, it would make sense she would cling to something she likes and is good at. I mean she can still be a detective but detective and uc are probably so intertwined in her mind at this point.

I don't know I just don't think the whole thing is as cut and dry as some people think. I'm excited to see where they go with it in the rest of this season. Especially with all the bts pictures we've gotten and how they may fit into this 👀

To be fair, there's patience and there's "waiting for 3 seasons for this storyline to move forward", if you know what I mean ;) Jokes aside, I feel like I'm one of the few who actually enjoy this arc so, in my case, I'm really glad that we are finally digging into this. It has felt stagnant for quite some time, and for good reasons.

Like you said, it apparently has taken this long for Tim to realise how much in denial he has been… And my guess is, he's not the only one here. I appreciate that this is used as a way by the writers to explain why this conversation has been postponed for so long : after all, Lucy has never made a secret that this was the career she wanted and Tim has encouraged her all along (minus the hiccups at the beginning). He knew that when he said they were worth the risk. So they needed to come up with a valid reason as to why it would be a problem. One that wouldn't invalidate Tim's feelings or decision. And now that this is out in the open, we can hopefully focus on Lucy's side of the story. On whether she is in denial too. On her fears - because I refuse to believe she doesn't have any. I do believe that she loves undercover. But like she admitted herself, she has only done short ops. Ops that sometimes went wrong but without any lasting consequences. So while she probably missed her friends and all during those missions, it's entirely different from missing out on a whole year. I'm not sure she has allowed herself to be entirely honest with herself on the subject.

And that's another thing. Her life has changed quite a lot since she decided to pursue an undercover career. Back then, she was pretty much on her own. But now, she has a family. And she lost her closest friend. Things that tend to make you think differently. I don't mean that she can't have the career that she wants, just that these types of events usually makes one reconsider their plans. In a way, this dream of being a UC has been her constant through all of this. And as someone who struggled for close to a decade to find her dream job, I can understand why she doesn't really question it. Not to mention that time and time again, we have seen how Lucy needs to talk things out in order to process them… And she hasn't been able to do that here. Like when she was offered the spot at the UC Academy. She went to see Nyla but it didn't do much. She needed Tim but with all the baggage between them at the time, she barely got to open up about her feelings. He is her sounding board but in this situation, it makes things more complicated. Her feelings for UC and for Tim are so intertwined that she doesn't know how to unravel this whole web. It is so convoluted together. She always shows some concerns about how it will affect their relationship. But not how it will affect HER. Like in 5.20 when she brushed away Tim's question. That's why I like that Tim's feelings might be out of the way first, so we can dig deeper into Lucy's. She has been so focused on Tim that she has neglected herself in the process. And that's also why I loved Chastity's comment. Because it was thrown casually by someone who is on the outside, and far more objective than the team could ever be. And hopefully, this is what starts an introspection from Lucy.

I don't think the writers necessarily forgot about her wanting to do undercover in s4 : she was at the beginning of her P2 career so it made sense for her to focus on that first. But she was still behind two UC ops. The second one being the catalyst for both her relationship with Tim and her career in UC moving forward. It's also no coincidence that Tim has always been involved in her UC ops. Either on the lookout (3.06 and 5.07), as her case officer (5.21), as the one going undercover under her supervision (4.07 and 4.22) or with her (5.01). The only time he wasn't involved from the get-go was during her first solo op (3.14) and even then, he managed to convince Nyla to keep him in the loop. It gave them a sense of safety. So it would be good to see an undercover mission where they can't keep in touch at all. And IF he is really going undercover for a couple of episodes as we have speculated, it would be interesting to see how it would affect them both to be on the other side of the equation. It would offer them a perspective of what the other would go through. That said, I still hope Lucy get to experience herself what it's like to do a long-ish op before making any decision. This has been her storyline above all. But in any case, I can't wait to see where this is going. (And I'm sorry, I feel like I went off on a tangent here and hijacked your reply lol).

#ask & ye shall receive #the rookie #chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #6.01

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Ib (Malleus Draconia)

Thank you for 1000 followers! Hope you enjoy the Horror Event!

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

Horror Event Masterlist

Requested by the lovely @sleepybeanmal

I'll admit that that particular segment of the game scarred me for life, and I'm so glad it was kept pretty much the same in the remake (even though I don't like the remake as much as the original and I hope people will play the original too)

"Let's play a game! Find the key, find the key! Who has it~♪"

Fuck!

Fuck fuck fuck!

"Ok. Ok. Breath. Breath and move!"

You take shaky deep breaths, jumping over a doll or two to get the one near the wall. You rip its stomach open. A dead bug greets you. There's not even time to scream, the room is getting colder and you can hear the claws of that monster scraping on the painting's frame. You throw the doll away, grabbing another. You rip its stomach open. Hair greets you. Disgusted, you throw it away and walk—practically jump to another doll.

Why they gotta be so far from each other?

Why their fabric needs to be sew so tightly.

You grab the disturbing doll. It giggles. You rip open its stomach. Your fingers hurt already. Paint coats your skin. You throw the doll away, and have no time to question if the little overjoyed whoop you hear comes from it or your panicking mind.

The thing in the painting is already peeking its head out. It stares at you with unblinking red eyes, round like portals to hell. It smiles at you with a ripped smiles, mocking and taunting and expectating. So so so so very very very happy happy happy that you're playing with its friends, and so so so very very very impatient impatient for its turn to arrive.

You grab another doll. Your tears fall on its disturbing head. You rip its stomach open. A small blade cuts your finger. There's no time to react, there's no time to process. You let the pain bleed out with the fear in your tears. You grab another doll. Your blood gets smeared on its disturbing head. You rip its stomach open. The key greets you.

The sound of a large body hitting the floor greets you.

There is no time.

You grab the key and you cry out in pain and you cry out in fear and you throw the doll away and you jump over the other dolls and you run to the door and you shove the key in the keyhole and you open the door and you feel the air behind you shift and you hear a clawed hand hit the floor and you feel arms pull you and you hear a door slam and you scream.

"My love, it's me!"

Malleus' voice reaches you in between your desperate screams and suddenly said screams turn into sobs.

You're alive. You escaped.

You cling to your boyfriend like a lifeline, not caring that you're soaking his clothes with tears and probably snot. And Malleus doesn't seem to care either, hugging you tightly like you'd disappear otherwise. Only after your head starts hurting and your throat gets raw that you notice your shoulders are not the only ones shaking.

"... Mal?"

"Oh, beloved, my one and only, the one I've loved and shall love beyond the concept of existence…"

"Shh… it's ok, Mal, I'm ok, see?"

"I apologize, you're the one who went through that hellishness, and yet I selfishly beg for comfort… but when I heard your terrified cries, I thought– I couldn't– I–"

He squeezes you a little before finally loosening his grip, just enough so you can look at each other's faces. There is a constant stream of tears running down his face, eyes red and puffy. You two certainly make a matching pair, and the thought makes you smile a little.

"It's ok, it's over. We're together again. Though, I do hope you have a bandage."

"I've taken to keeping one or two on me ever since Silver joined us. Where are you hurt? I shall take care of it, meanwhile, you rest. I'll find a safe room for us to stay."

You close your eyes, leaning on his chest. You know he'll see your finger when he inevitably looks you all over for injuries, so for now you allow the heat of his love to erase the cold of that terrible room.

There is time.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #x fem reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #horror event 2022

[adelilyy]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

thought of this a few days ago, but it really struck me how ray always seems to be asking for punishment. he has asked sand multiple times to yell, curse, hit, well, overall, just hurt him. and oh.

isn’t ray the perfect exemple of self-destructive behaviour? we've clearly seen his twisted relationship with alcohol and drugs, but now, i feel like it might even be portrayed in his constant demand for harmful gestures. imo, that boy sees life as a wicked two way highway: you do bad stuff in order to forget and erase bad stuff. you destroy yourself slowly. get numb. he gets rejected, he drinks. he can't forget about his crush, he gets high. his friend group is going to hell (him included), there goes the vodka bottle!

but asking for sand to hurt him is another one of his self destructive behaviours. oh, i know i did really bad stuff earlier, shouldn't have ran away like a dumbass because his royal saint mew called, sooooo... hit me.

please please please.

he's basically giving himself away just for sand to forgive him, but not in a normal, typical way. let's be real, in this kind of situation, most people would want to avoid getting yelled at, hit, or whatever it is that ray wants so much. no? isn't that the whole purpose of apologizing and talking it through with the person? to minimize the damage, and stay safe and sound?

but ray remains ray.

it's like he actually wouldn't give a flying fuck if sand raised a hand on him. surprised, probably, he might've been. but, honestly, don't think he would've been hurt. (hey, he hurt me, but damage is repaired! don't care if i'm bleeding or if i have a bruise the size of a tennis ball on my ribcage!!!!!!!!!!!!!) it's as if he thinks so lowly of himself that he doesn't even deem necessary to talk it through or apologize properly in the first place (he does do that, but quickly jumps onto the yell at me part) , he wants to be hurt.

look, we all know how low ray's self-esteem is. he doesn't think of himself as useful, outside the monetary aspect of his lifestyle. if he lends money, then, he is useful. he is no longer a burden! (i will jump every single person who called him that)

not growing up with present and loving parent figures, how could it even help his case? that man is simply not used to building healthy relationships from a young age, so why can't he ask to be hurt in exchange for forgiveness. what the fuck is talking and what does it solve.

i only know that bad and bad cancel each other, and the equation is solved.

because he deserves it. a worthless pitiful alcoholic without a mom. don't i deserve it? i've been there before. hit me and then, maybe, you'll feel better when i'm brought to the ground. and maybe, maybe, forgive me?

:(((

#only friends the series #ray #sandray #only friends episode 8 #sand #thai bl #thai drama #character analysis #damn ray needs to be shown some real love cause baby wtf is this #sand im counting on u ? #i love only friends #i think sand and ray are perfect for each other #i will die with this ship #AHHHHH

[amugoffandoms]

i absolutely ADORE this drawing for day six of milgramtober! holt shit it's insane i love it

i know it's like, "well, mug, where's the smoke??" okay well uhh backdraft is the reignition of flames when air combines with unburned fuel, which would cause smoke so yeah that's my justification guys (i swear the writing goes along with "Smoke" I swear)

going insane ANYWAYS HERE'S TODAY'S POST!!

Fuuta watches the clock he requested tick every second.

On some days, he regrets it. He regrets each ticking moment because on those days, when he's in absolute agony from Kotoko's attacks or the voices, each tick is another to his death.

So, he hands it off to different people. Let them find out what time it is until they die. He doesn't want to know.

Today, he doesn't mind the quiet ticking sound. It's peaceful, oddly. He doesn't really expect that. It helps him fall asleep sometimes, just listening to that noise.

Eventually, the constant ticking noise gets a little boring, so Fuuta pushes himself off his bed and looks around.

Nothing to do in his cell today and Yuno is pretty much asleep, since he can't hear her. Muu is probably off doing some random shit with Haruka, so he doesn't have to check on him. They're old enough to handle shit by themselves.

With that, Fuuta opens his cell door and leaves the quietly ticking clock and his boring room.

"What to do..." Fuuta grumbles as he walks through the panopticon, passing Yuno and Haruka's cells.

When he was bored before the verdicts, he used to walk past the other 7 cells, but he doesn't do that anymore.

Not since...

Fuuta shivers.

"Fuck, it's freezing." He knows it's not.

He smells the pungent smell of smoke and knows instantly where to go.

He exits the Panopticon and continues walking through the hallway until he reaches the common room doors.

Pulling them open, Fuuta glances around the room before spotting the two he would have expected to see smoking: Mikoto and Kazui.

"Oh, hello, Fuuta." Kazui gives a polite wave.

Mikoto glances over and waves as well before taking a puff of his e-cigarette.

"It's pretty late to be smoking, isn't it?" Fuuta walks over with an unexpected lack of anger in his voice. Huh.

"Eh... Well, might as well. Mikoto and I have not spoken since..." Kazui trails off.

"It's nice to catch up." Mikoto shrugs.

Fuuta almost laughs at how funny that idea is. They've been in the same prison for months, years even. They wouldn't need to catch up on anything.

But, hey, maybe Kazui or Mikoto remembered some stories they'd forgotten to share before.

"Yeah, I getcha." Fuuta takes a seat near them, placing his head on the table and looking up at them (with his one good eye).

"Oi, aren't you going yell at us?" Mikoto teases.

Fuuta laughs. "Nah, you both already know whatever shit I'll tell you anyway. I'm too tired to care. Plus, even if I did, you'd ignore me anyways. So." He shrugs.

He also just... wasn't in the mood for fighting today.

It's funny. He sort of lost the aggressiveness over time because of everything that happened. Well, he still has it, he'll fucking fight someone if he needs to.

It's just... not the same right now.

"Ah, well, Fuuta. I'll tell you that I understand your complaints, but I'll still smoke." Kazui chuckles and Fuuta gives a small smile back.

Kazui puts the cigarette to his mouth, inhaling, and exhaling as he moves the cigarette away from his mouth.

"Oi, Kazui, where's the other old man, Shidou?" Fuuta asks. He does want to apologize for what happened yesterday when Shidou checked his bandages.

...He honestly didn't mean to get all upset. Shidou just put too much pressure on an area and memories from Kotoko's attacks just hit him.

"Ahh..." Kazui scratches his neck. "I came after Shidou left. I was in my cell when I needed to smoke and I just so happened to see Mikoto in here. I guessed the two of them were smoking together before I got here."

"Oh, I think he went to go check on Mahiru." Mikoto shrugs. "Or he might've gone to go check on Amane. One of the two."

"Eh, I guess that's fair." Fuuta sighs.

Guess he'll have to apologize to him later.

Fuuta shuts his eyes for a moment, half listening to the conversation Mikoto and Kazui are having and half in his thoughts.

He honestly can't tell if the voices have been quieter today. Well, he's not hearing them more, which is a plus, he guesses.

Maybe the clock did help.

(Yuno mentioned to him once before that sometimes, if there's enough noise to focus on, they're quieter. They're harsher on the days when it's silent.

It's funny how he never actually took her advice to have some noise somewhere. He knows whatever voices she hears probably isn't that bad, but it was still good advice.

So, he requested a clock. It helped. Occasionally. It's not a loud enough noise to keep them quiet for long, but it helps.)

"...Fuuta!" Mikoto slams the table.

"Gah–" Fuuta jumps. "What? What??"

"You looked like you were dozing off." Kazui points out.

"Eh?? I wasn't; I had my eyes closed." Fuuta huffs before internally berating himself. He had his eye closed. It's true he technically has his eyelid shut over his eye, but it's... not working, so. "I was thinking."

"Ah, alright." Mikoto nods before taking a puff of his e-cigarette.

The three of them relax in a calming silence, Mikoto and Kazui quietly chatting and smoking while Fuuta thinks.

"Fuuta, I have to ask." Kazui's voice takes Fuuta out of his thoughts.

"Eh? What is it?" Fuuta looks up at Kazui.

"I was wondering... Why did you even come here? You don't smoke, so you don't have any reason to be here, but you are."

Fuuta exhales. Why was he here? He came because he smelt smoke and that was it.

...ah, nevermind, he knows.

"My father used to smoke a lot." Fuuta answers. "It's been a while, but I'm assuming he still does. Weak, pathetic fogey." He shakes his head. "Anyways... it reminds me of home, mostly. I wasn't sure what to do and I came here. Maybe I'm just used to going home to the stench of smoke in the air or something stupid like that, who fucking knows?"

Mikoto and Kazui both nod.

"Ah, I see." Kazui rubs his chin. "If you ever need a smell of home, you're welcome to sit down and relax with us."

"Yeah, somehow, we really don't mind. It's not like we're saying anything particularly private, so..." Mikoto shrugs.

"Eh, well, if none of you mind me being here occasionally just to remind me of home..."

"I'm sure Shidou will be fine with it, too." Mikoto flashes Fuuta a small smile. Kazui nods in agreement.

"Ahhh, alright, alright." Fuuta sits upright.

"I wouldn't mind relaxing while you guys smoke."

#mug writes #milgram #milgramtober2023 #milgram fanfic #milgram fanfiction #fuuta kajiyama #kajiyama fuuta #kazui mukuhara #mukuhara kazui #kayano mikoto #mikoto kayano #this one i actually wasnt sure what to do because it's the word smoke #i thought of fires first but then i was like how do i write smoke into that #then i remembered SMOKER GROUP #bam we got this #i think something i write a lot is the voices coming in silence and not other times #i have provided a reason for it here #ALSO mikoto cameo because it's his birthday!!

[stalemateserial]

55

Their schedules were beginning to align closer. They were growing more accustomed to the temporal state of the station, the circadian disruption that was constant sunlight, zero nuance. Judith could hear Ruth coming to bed before she'd fully fallen asleep, and Ruth could still feel the linger of Judy when she woke up. Would it have always been that way, or was it because of their situation? Judith couldn't help but worry. She could have occupied her mind with the experiment, another observation of weightlessness on something they had only ever applied Earth physics to. It didn't matter. They would be replaced, their notes updated by scientists that understood more. Had a better chance. The opportunity to learn from mistakes.

You signed up for this.

Why not focus on the game? The board is opening up now, pieces need to be kept track of. The earlier the development, the better. Judith had always been reserved, thoughtful, the picture of what her society wouldn't disturb her for being. When she was aggressive in chess, she was called decisive, bold. When she was the same way in primary school, she was called to the headmaster's office.

This was supposed to be a place where no one could tell me how to behave.

But even if there were no one else, she'd do that all by herself, wouldn't she? The damage was well and done, after all. She'd develop her bishop early, she decided. Save her pawns.

"Bishop to G2."

"Oh. Oh!" There was going to be more time between moves now, more deliberation. Judith hoped Ruth would have a response when the experiment ended, but she kept thinking. Thirty minutes later, Ruth was looking out at the Earth when she finally announced "Pawn to D5".

"I'm glad you're putting up a fight now."

"It does give me something to think about."

Judith pauses, lets the conversation hang weightless in the air. Maybe mission control would like some notes about that, the effect of weightlessness on awkward silences. She's wracking her brains for something to say, but she can't think of anything. Everything sounds wrong, even now, when there's nothing else to lose.

"Do you think I'll be afraid right up until the end?"

"You're supposed to be afraid."

"I know, but I don't want to be."

"You can't stop being afraid by wanting to be. You have to accept your fear, not let it control your thoughts."

"Let's just talk, it'll help me feel better. Tell me a story about America."

"What kind of story?"

"I don't know, something from when you were a girl."

Ruth leans back, a challenge considering their environment, staring in the direction she'd consider up. "I told you I'm from New York?"

"Yes, and I said I wished I was from the original York instead of Surrey so I could make a little joke."

"Yeah, I remember that now. Well, when I was about nine years old, my younger brother and I took our bikes out from the suburbs to the heart of the city, where you can ride in-between cars since the traffic moves so slow. We'd heard there was an ice cream shop that gave out scoops for a dime on Sundays. We'd made it nearly all the way there when we bumped into this guy. He wasn't huge, but he was still bigger than two kids. We tried to apologize but he gave us this look like he was going to tan our hides into a belt. He starts yelling and screaming, kicking up a fuss, trying to snatch our bikes from us. Just when he's about to get his hands on them, this lady in a suit, had about an inch on the guy in her heels, screams at him that she's got a brick in her purse and she'll bash his head in if he doesn't leave those kids alone."

"My lord, you both must have been frightened."

"Jake and I knew he couldn't really do anything, although I did really like that bike. I was more impressed by the woman, though. She walked us the rest of the way there and sat with us while we ate our ice cream. She said she had a daughter around my age I'd probably get along with who could use some friends. I said I'd be delighted to meet her."

Ruth stopped speaking then, like it was where the story was meant to end. She kept staring up, a soft, easy smile on her face.

"Surely that can't be all there was to the story?"

"I don't have a lot of good stories, Judy. Tell me one tomorrow, and I'll tell a little more."

#web serial #queer writers

[starleska]

Oh, but that sounds wonderful! I'd love to be cursed like that, even if it does make it a little more difficult to get work done 😉 Usually, unless I'm trying particularly hard, I can only hear their voice reciting things they've already said. Which isn't too terrible when they say such things like Gargamel tends to😳😳

This guy's got me smiling at thin air trying to recall all my recent daydreams LOL- Alright, alright, as you could've probably guessed, I certainly enjoy imagining size difference stuff!! The most common scenarios are getting shrunken down to relative Smurf size and seeking shelter in his place, getting captured by him, and though I'm visibly not a Smurf, he finds he wouldn't mind keeping me anyway...😳 AHHH, and the other is I'm actually a Smurf, and he's captured me and is trying to get the location of the others out of me.

Imagining being his assistant is a whole other world of possibilities! In particular, him getting so caught up in his rants about the Smurfs, he backs me up against a boiling cauldron and leans over me, and it's hot but so is he-

Then there's my 2011 Smurfs movie based one, where I temporarily take Patrick and Grace's place and harbor the Smurfs in my home, Gargamel finds out and when they continue to get away from him, he kidnaps me and I'm subjected to be his accomplice for basically the rest of the movie LOL. And generally the idea of introducing him to everyday modern things is always fun, especially when I'm out and can imagine him next to me and commenting on things.

Goodness, apologies for how long that got 🤣 I totally get that, but I agree, what a nice thought! Speaking like characters that make you smile—I've noticed you've got yourself a new wonderful little guy to obsess over!! Him and his media look super interesting based on what you've posted, I'll have to check it out when I get the time. I hope you're having a wonderful time with it <3

sweetheart, hello!!!! ahhh i am so sorry - this ask got absolutely buried in my inbox underneath the hundreds of Welcome Home-related requests!! that's absolutely on me 💔 how are you doing? i hope you're having a lovely day 🥰

hahaha, you have an excellent point…Gargamel really does know how to say things which push certain buttons, huh? 😳 ohhhh the size difference stuff is so cute, yes yes yes!! hehe, imagine a magical mishap wherein he's trying to perfect a size-shrinking spell for himself so he can infiltrate the Smurf Village without their knowledge, but you end up being the unintentional victim!! but when he realises how much you know about the Smurfs, and how docile and subservient you are…well, he's certainly not in a rush to figure out how to get you back to your regular size, is he? 😉

as for actually being a Smurf, perhaps he covets you in a way he could never feel towards the others, because you want to be around him. it's incredibly soothing to his ego, and it doesn't hurt that with you, he has a small yet constant stream of magic to help fuel his desire for more power. of course, he still wants all of the Smurfs…but for you, who gives your essence so willingly? he's certainly going to find ways to, ahem…show his gratitude 😳

ohhh goodness, that assistant scenario!!!!! i love that so much, you are a genius 😖💖 gosh, wouldn't it be terrible to be squirming against the strength of his grip and trying to pull away from the heat, but Gargamel notices: he sees the flush in your cheeks, hears the stutter of your breath. "Oh, my dear," he whispers. "Is there something about this situation which you find…alluring?"

sdfgfd i love you so MUCH i adore how many different ways you've thought of shipping yourself with Gargamel, and how delightfully canon-compliant it is!!! god, you're making me want to write a real fic now 👀 that's such a fun dynamic - you being a human endeared to the Smurfs who is torn between wanting to help them, but also how horribly, ragingly attracted you are to this bad, bad man…

hahaha please don't worry at all!!! it was a treat combing through all these asks and discovering this right at the bottom - i thought maybe you'd vanished in the wake of all the Welcome Home stuff :3c hehe yes, Wally Darling is such a little angel!! i can't recommend Welcome Home enough, it's excellent. but don't worry, i have by no means left Gargamel behind;;; please know you're always welcome to message off-anon if you work up the courage!! but i absolutely adore talking to you and hearing all about your Gargamel love, it makes my heart all fluttery :3c

sending so much love your way!! i hope you are having a great day :D

#gargamel x reader #gargamel #the smurfs #the smurfs 2011 #starleskasks #naughty tag #suggestive

[mammonprotectionsquad]

Oh lord this really got out of hand length wise and idk how I feel about all of this... but at the same time I really want to get this out so I can fiiiiiinally (potentially) post the two fics that I've finished months ago. But I felt like I needed to at least somehow write something about how especially her relationships to the brothers developed. Again, this doesn't really follow the canon storyline, because Belphie wasn't locked in the attic etc. Aaaanyway! I still hope you enjoy this mess lol Disclaimer: I didn't proof read it. (I'm too tired to do that rn xD) So I apologize if there are any mistakes

Forming Relationships

Obey Me oc Freya

It would've been a lie to say that it wasn't difficult to get used to things. Not only because everything in the Devildom was so different from what Freya was used to, but also because the majority of the seven brothers didn't exactly make it easy for her either. Belphie didn't bother hiding his distaste, to put it mildly, for humans. Lucifer didn't hold back with his constant threats for misbehaviour, Satan gave some snide remarks here and there, etc etc.

Which was why she was all the more glad about the bond she'd easily formed with the other three exchange students in a rather short time. Being around Simeon always had something... calming, warm. Easily helping chase the stress away that a long day surrounded by a shit ton of demons usally brought. Meanwhile things with Solomon were usually a bit more chaotic but really fun. (Also she'd quickly caught up on how it was mandatory to distract him from any cooking attempts, if they didn't want to make near death experiences.) And Luke? He was just a little ray of sunshine. Like the little brother she never had as dramatic as it probably sounded, she would've given her live for him. Not to mention how adorable it was that he was the one who always wanted to protect her. So whenver she talked about how exhausting another day had been or what had been thrown at her from either of the brothers, he would go on about how demons were not to be trusted to begin with. How he'd teach them a lesson on her behalf.

"Freya, if it should ever get too much there for you, you could always sleep here!"

"There's not enough room for me and I'd hate to intrude", she snorted, before taking another sip of tea the older angel had prepared for them.

"You wouldn't be intruding! You could simply sleep in my bed and... It would be something like a sleepover!"

Luke looked so excited about the possible sleepover, it was impossible not to feel all warm and fuzzy. Reaching out, she ruffled his hair.

"We don't need to wait for me to have to escape wanting to murder the brothers myself to have a sleepover. If you guys aren't busy we could have one this weekend?"

"Really?" Luke's bright eyes were nearly sparkling with sheer joy at that point.

"I'm in for that", Solomon suddenly perked up, head peeking out from his bedroom door.

"A sleepover sounds like it could be fun", Simeon agreed and so the planning began.

What's funny was that Freya even managed to somehow form a closer bond to Barbatos, before any of the brothers gave her a real chance. Well, Beelzebub was the exception. After a bit of a rocky start, they actually got to talking one night when they bumped into each other in the kitchen and she had offered him to make him a nice midnight snack, instead of having him just standing at the open fridge and shoving god knows what into his mouth.

One day she had been invited to join Diavolo for some tea, to talk about her time in the Devildom so far. Actually it was already the third time he'd invited her over. And she knew that it would probably end up with her telling him more about the human realm. Though when she arrived, Barbatos was of course the one greeting her.

"My apologies. I'm afraid Milord is still in a meeting. But he will be with you in a bit. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime and I'll bring you something to drink."

While she did follow him into a very over the top but nice looking salon, it only took a couple minutes until she got bored and actually decided to head into the direction the butler had disappeared in. And soon after she stepped into the kitchen where he was busy decorating a cake.

"Can I help with something?"

"Oh no, you're Lord Diavolo's guest."

"So what? I like helping out", she answered with a shrug, at the same time taking a couple steps further into the kitchen to have a better look at the way he expertly added the decorative elements on top of flawlessly spread frosting. "Can I at least keep you company? It's always kind of fascinating what you always manage to whip up and I'd love to see the master at work."

That actually tickled a smile out of Barbatos and he agreed. So as Freya watched him, they had a nice, relaxed conversation. Admittedly she was the one doing most of the talking but Barbatos, being the patient man he was, answered all sorts of questions she had. That's also how they ended up on the topic of pacts.

"Solomon told me that he made a pact with Asmodeus and you. How did that end up happening? I mean, sure. Powerful sorcerer and all but it was still kind of surprising. So what made you say yes?"

"I've had my reasons. Sometimes a pact can be benefitial for both sides."

"Alright, I got the hint. Keep your secrets, mysterious butler", Freya chuckled, before she took a bite of a cookie he had offered her earlier. It was still slightly warm and the chocolate he used for it was melting on her tongue.

"Are you interested in trying to form pacts? Or where did that suddenly come from?"

"Honestly? Not really. I don't see what use would be to potentially have power over someone else. I don't want to order anyone around or something like that. Not my thing. Especially if it would be against their will. I guess... I'm just curious what it would feel like? I don't know. From how Solomon explained it, it sounded like there's also a special bond with a pact. But maybe I'm just romanticising things too much."

She felt how heat rose into her cheeks from the embarrassment of her ramblings and scratched the back of her head rather sheepishly. A silence settled between the two, although it was anything but uncomfortable. Eventually Barbatos finished the cake and put it into the fridge to let the frosting harden up a bit again. When he turned to face her again, it nearly felt like his gaze was boring into her.

"If you want, I'll make a pact with you."

For a moment all she could do was blink, and blink again, mind going absolutely blank.

"Huh?" Had he really just offered to make a pact with her? Out of the blue?

"You genuinly don't seem like you'd take advantage of it and who knows, maybe it will be benefitial for both of us in the future after all."

There was a hint of a sly smirk, something that made her narrow her eyes ever so slightly, but it wasn't enough to unsettle her.

"I feel like there's something you know that I don't... But I'd be lying if I didn't say that I'd like to know what it's like so.... Okay. How does it work?"

"Well, firstly you have to pick a spot for the mark", he explained as he stepped closer.

"Mhm..." With pursed lips, Freya tiled her head back, green eyes glued to the ceiling as she tried to think of a spot. Maybe picking something that wasn't immediately visible at all times would be good. Especially when she eventually visited her family. "On my back would be good, I think."

Barbatos nodded and motioned for her to turn around, which she did. Then there was the lightest touch between her shoulder blades, followed by a short, bright glow.

"And done."

"Wait, that's it? No ritual or anything?" Her question drew a small, quiet laugh out of the butler, while he shook his head.

"No ritual necessary. It is all set and done now."

She couldn't quite explain why but for some reason it gave her a rush of happiness. Barbatos had always been pleasant and also fun to be around. The fact that he already trusted her enough to form a pact that easily with her? It managed to lift her mood and a bright smile broke out on her face.

Thankfully, as the weeks went on, the brothers also slowly but surely warmed up at least a bit towards her. It was already a big win in her books that the constant death threads had stopped. Also it was ineviteable that she began to pick up on everyones likes and dislikes, their little quirks and habits... And without really noticing it, she began to incorporate those in the things she did for the brothers.

She knew how Lucifer liked his coffee and eventually began bringing him a cup to his office, every now and then. At first she would set a tray next the door, knock and then leave as to not disturb him too much. Because she really didn't want to risk pissing him off and ending up getting srtung from the ceiling, like Mammon did countless times. But then she actually brought it inside, ignoring when she was told how it was pretty much suicide to "disturb him" when he was working. She'd even remind him to take breaks for his own sake. Not that he ever listened... But hey, she made it out alive every time and sometimes, just before she closed the door behind her again, she saw that he was in fact drinking the coffee. Something simple yet it made her smile that he accepted the small way of caring for him that she offered.

Asmodeus, and even Leviathan to some extend, warmed up to her when they found out that she wasn't half bad at sewing. Her family had never had that much money which was why at some point as a teenager she started to learn how to sew to either fix her clothes or even make her own completely from scratch.

One evening Asmo came into the living room, where Satan and her were both reading, whining about the seam of a sleeve from his favourite blouse came loose and he didn't have the time to bringe it to a tailor or do it himself, since he wanted to wear it that night when he went out.

"If you want you can put it in my room and I can fix it up later. I promise you that it's gonna look as good as new."

"You can really do that? Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Freya!", he nearly squealed, at the same time pretty much throwing himself at her and showering her face with kisses.

Levi on the other hand was a bit more reluctant to go to her and ask for her help. Funnily enough it was actully her who went to him, after Asmo had been the one to tell her about how Levi apparently bumped into some issues with a cosplay he was working on.

When it was his time to take care of dinner, the pink haired joined him in the kitchen, grabbing herself a glass of water.

"Hey Levi? Asmo said you hit a dead end with your cosplay?" She didn't miss how he tensed up or his ears turned a bright red, which was a stark contrast to his purple hair. So she hurried to continue before he'd go into a full on anxiety attack. "My little sister is also a lot into that and I usually helped her sew some things. If you want, I could have a look at your cosplay and maybe we'll be able to find a solution together."

He stayed quiet for another moment, most definitely contemplating her offer though in the end, he actually agreed and the next day she was even allowed to go into his room for the first time since she came to the Devildom.

Breaking the ice with Satan happened pretty much on accident. Freya caught a glimpse of the book he was apparently currently reading and recognized it.

"I know that one! It was really good. If you want we could talk about it, once you've finished reading it?"

She hadn't thought much about her offer at that time, it was just that she was sure everyone enjoyed talking about things they liked, right? And even if it were topics she didn't enjoy herself or wasn't well versed in, she'd always loved hearing people talk about stuff they were passionate about. Still she was somewhat surprised when Satan knocked at her door that same night. asking if her offer to discuss the book still stood.

From then on she found out that he had an interest in books from the human realm and as it seemed they had similar taste in genres. Which was how she ended up recommending him some of her favourites and they regularly had their book talks over a hot drink and sometimes some snacks as well.

It didn't take a genius to realize that Mammon constantly seemed to get into some sort of trouble. Most of the time it was connected to his sin. Aka it wasn't a rare occurance for things to "mysteriously" go missing. Usually she was only missing some small things that didn't have too much value. Neither emotionally nor cash wise, which was why she never really noticed it. But when a necklace she'd once gotten from her grandma went missing, her first thought was that she might've lost it. Hence why she asked the brothers if they might've seen it. And while no one had, their expressions all said that they had their suspicions.

Even after pretty much searching the entire house, she hadn't found it. Her heart dropping at the thought of having lost something that was very dear to her. Just when she was about to head back to her room, she could hear Lucifer calling out for the second oldest and dear lord, did he sound pissed... Curiosity took over and she followed the commotion. Mammon looked like he was either ready to drop to the floor and play dead or run for his life in hopes of escaping the wrath of his older brother.

"Mammoooon... What are you doing with Freya's necklace?!"

As upset as she was that he seemed to have been the culprit, in her time living with all of them she had figured out that sometimes the boys just couldn't help what they did. It was fueled by their sin and to some extend... She felt bad for Mammon. Mainly because he always got the most shit for his actions.

"You found it?", Freya chimed in and nearly bounced up to them, finally leaving her little hiding corner to grab the necklace out of Mammon's hand to put it on. "Thanks so much for helping me look for it~ I don't know what I would've done if I'd have actually lost it."

"Y-yeah, that's right! I told ya the great Mammon would find your stuff!"

Lucifer didn't look all too convinced, though he still dropped it and went back to his study. After making sure he was put of earshot, Freya turned back around towards the other man and fixed him with a glare.

"I won't rat you out", when Mammon opened his mouth to say something, she lifted a hand to stop him dead in his tracks, "under one condition. You stop stealing any of my shit. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal", he nodded quickly.

All in all, once that little issue was sorted out, she actually enjoyed spending time with the little trouble maker. Sure, he might've been a big tsundere, but he was fun to be around nevertheless. And no matter how many hundred years older he was, she sort of felt responsible for him. Which was also why she was usually the one to step in when his brothers took their "playful" bullying too far. Especially when it became obvious that it deeply affected the avatar of greed.

Belphie was... a special case. Sometimes he made her feel like he'd bite her, if she only got a little too close. Like a feral cat. But after hearing the reason from Beel why he despised humans so much, she couldn't even blame him all too much. She figured it was the best to give him time and space. That didn't mean her stupid mom friend instincts didn't kick in with him as well, though. Something Solomon liked to make fun of her for a lot. More than once had she found the youngest asleep in the strangest places. Usually just with his pillow, which couldn't have been very comfy or warm. Especially when he was fast asleep on the cold tile floor. Once she noticed that he even fell asleep in class more than once, she began to make it a habit to bring a smaller blanket with her to RAD. So whenever she found him passed out somewhere, she could at least throw the blanket over his shoulders.

She was convinced that he had at some point figured out that she was usually the one to make sure he was at least somewhat comfy when he slept, but neither of them ever talked out it. Until she was sitting on the couch in the library, engrossed in a book Satan had recommended to her , when suddenly someone flopped down next to her, followed by a head resting on her lap. It took her brain a moment to register that it was in fact Belphie who claimed her thighs as his pillow.

"At least you're comfortable...", was the only thing he mumbled, before he seemingly already fell asleep.

And as much as it was completely and utterly surprising, there was no denying that Freya got all giddy about the fact the little, spoiled brat seemed to have warmed up to her after all.

From there on things at HoL were far more relaxed and Freya even began to slowly consider it her second home. She spent more time with the brothers, got to know many new things and sides about them... Like Satan's love for cats. Or that one of Belphie's favourite napping spots was the planetarium. How many different sports Beel aced, how cracked Levi was at video games. That Mammon was terrified of horror movies, which was quite funny for a demon. Or how Lucifer actually let his guard down when he was alone with Freya. Admittedly, it was a rare occasion but that made her treasure those moments even more.

There was only one problem that came from it; that damn smug, prideful demon easily snuck his way into her heart. With the strange sense of security he gave her. Or their little playful banters when they challenged each other with something. How he made sure she was doing alright in his own ways... Like offering to help her study in case she was stuck somewhere. Sometimes he even accompanied her into the city to run some errands. At least when his time and work load allowed it. Not to forget the times he actually listened to her and, if a little reluctant, took a break which then ended with him teaching her how to play chess.

The biggest issue of it all weren't even the confusion she got from the feelings she started to develope for him. Oh no... It was actually the fact that she was still in a relationship, although there hadn't been all too much contact from her girlfriend's side the past couple weeks. Oh well, at least there were a couple of weeks left until she would be allowed to go back home for a weekend to visit her family. Until then she was sure she could make sense of the mess and emotions. But for now, she decided to mainly enjoy the shenanigans with the brothers, now that they all got along way better.

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me oc #obey me mc #obey me fanfic #obey me oneshot #shall we date obey me #obey me brothers #my writing

[d3nt4l-d4m4g3]

So this will be my last message until I block you forever and get on with my life. I was kindly corrected on intersex people and I apologize for bringing them into this.

Here’s the facts: A TERF woman raped me to try and make me not trans. To try and show me how “good it is to be a woman”. This, after I was already 3 years into my transition.

Given that incident, I hate your “movement” for everything that it’s trying to do. I’ve angrily messaged you because I needed someone to direct my hate towards. Do I regret it? A little, mostly because I was too late to realize there’s nothing to be done. You’re not the woman who raped me. You just happen to be a TERF spewing the same hate. You are who you are and I am who I am. Who I am is not determined by you or anyone else and I am quite glad about that. The beauty of this world is how so many different ideals can exists at once, the good and the bad.

I bid thee farewell, I wash my hands of this petty back and forth and I will move on as quickly as I know you will.

I'm sorry you were raped. That will never be okay. Rape will never show anyone anything good. However:

I’ve angrily messaged you because I needed someone to direct my hate towards.

You seem to admit that this is not an excusable way to work through what happened to you, or to heal yourself. As you said: I have nothing to do with what happened to you. Lots of democrats are rapists too, are you gonna vote for the orange man in 2024 now? hm?

As an ideology, fundamentally, radical feminism is vehemently opposed to rape as a hatecrime of the basest order. I'm not going to say your rapist wasn't a radical feminist because I loathe a no-true-scotsman fallacy, but you also need to know that radical feminism itself is probably, without exaggeration, the most anti-rape ideology in existence.

On the other hand, trans people advocate for rape: to challenge our genital preferences. For lesbians to acquire a taste for girlcock.

While your assaulter's horrific action is opposed to radical feminism, trans people are aligned with their ideology in the act of rape of monosexual people.

And while of course I am outspokenly opposed to any dangerous and medically unnecessary interventions, which personally threatens your constructed identity, I have never been hateful. I have never searched for a trans person to "direct my anger towards" In fact, I know and love many trans people. I know many people who make me shake with anger, and still I don't hate them. Still I don't pour my energy into wishing pain onto other people.

Maybe you believe transition eases suffering. But I believe transition causes suffering. Therefore, i want to ease suffering by warning against transition.

And from your constant nagging of me, it doesn't sound like in your case that your suffering is remotely cured.

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Oh sure lemme think about it for a second-- my favorites switch around every day or so. I guess today's picks are, in no particular order:

This one where Bruce apologizes to Damian for the way he treated him early in their relationship

Excerpt:

He really was. When Bruce thought of all the things he’d done wrong in his life, Damian was at the top of the list. Every time he saw Damian’s scars, he wondered how many of them he could have prevented. How much was two years of damage? How long did it take to undo? How could he have ever looked at Damian without seeing the complexity of him— the ferocity, the kindness, the constant battle for his own soul?

“I was wrong,” he repeated. “The biggest mistake I ever made was thinking that I didn’t want to know you. I regret that more than you can imagine.”

In a similar vein, this fic takes place earlier in Bruce and Damian's relationship, but it's also about Bruce growing as a parent.

The premise is basically Bruce and Damian fight, Dick intervenes by giving Bruce two files-- the first one is the file Bruce made about Dick, way at the beginning, and the second is the file Bruce made on Damian when Damian first showed up (+ element I won't spoil).

Reading through them forces Bruce to compare how he treats two of his children, and the charm of the whole piece is supposed to be that Dick learned to 'parent' Damian by reading what Bruce wrote about Dick himself, many years before-- and then Bruce learns to parent Damian from Dick. I'm pleased with the parallelism of the whole thing, and I like that it portrays Bruce as the kind of parent I'd like him to be: an honestly not great one who realizes that he's not great and then like, apologizes and works to become better.

This fic is a collab with @doc-anders, and it does actually have a title (rare for me)-- The Aesthetic of Self-Destruction

Excerpt:

In that moment, watching Dick glare, Jason felt very tired— not in a way that sleep could solve, and not in a way that anyone could fix. No matter what Jason did, no matter what he tried, he could always feel himself sinking. He was empty and heavy at the same time, somehow trapped in place, unable to do anything except lie in his own blood.

A rotting corpse indeed.

(I promise it's a lil more uplifting at the end than the excerpt makes it sound)

This one doesn't usually make my top favorites list tbh but it does today because I re-read it recently and there's a line that stuck out to me

It's a piece from early in Dick's Robin days, about his recovery and Bruce's attempts to raise a child. I am sensing a theme to this list.

The excerpt:

“I didn’t disappear the night they died. Something horrible happened, and I suffered, and it hurt, and it wasn’t fair. It also wasn’t the end. It’s allowed to be a turning point, but it can’t be the end. Understand?”

And lastly I'm still really proud of how this one turned out-- it's the Jason and Tim mindscape one

I spent a really really long time planning and writing the bastard and I think it communicates what I wanted to say, both about the characters and to myself, and that's the measure of success I think I'm gonna use today.

If I could add one more, it would probably be that one where Tim and Damian have a heart to heart and then immediately pretend they've just been fighting the whole time instead. Emotions who? We don't know them

#thank you darlin that was v kind of you #asks #organizational #ao3 says i've written 101 batman fics since 2015 #lord help us all #alright let's.... see what else is in the inbox i abandoned #you'd think i'd learn to keep up but alas

[psychewritesbs]

even though I do not mind the weekly or bi weekly chapter releases and enjoy them, I kind of wish I would wake up one day and the final chapter of jjk would be here lol

I mean this as like the time left with the series is fast forwarded. I don't like rushing in any context, but I feel like I want to know the ending before I fall out of love with the series. I've enjoyed what gege has given in the story so far, but there is plenty of choices I would say I do not agree with imo. He seems like he has a vision of how things need to go, but getting there seems to have some issues. I also kind of hate it when authors say they want to end the story especially when it feels like it will be rushed, and is JJK's case it's sometimes hard to enjoy the story after its been said bc I'm just wondering if we're spending too much time on one thing before we need to move to the next point, but I'll still try to see the story's good and the bad and enjoy what I can. I'm going to reread the culling game arc soon, but I feel like those first fights were about gaining allies, but I can say I wasn't expecting it to go like that if that was the intention. I don't mind kenjaku having secret plans bc it's obvious when it comes to them, but I feel as though that plan overshadowed the point of the cg?? I thought there would be more focus of to kill or not, etc and I see that the most for megumi and yuji (they had my fav colony battles), and I get it somewhat with yuta, but I dont see it too importantly with hakari or maki. I'm going to reread the arc regardless because I can always be confused or a bit slower in catching on so forgive me if my insight is lackluster. I liked the running themes during yuki vs kenjaku, but her "death" felt very unnecessary because she seemed really important in achieving a curse free world and idk about you but that seems like an important goal imo and yeah someone else could lead that charge but what was wrong with yuki doing that? I don't know, but I can only hope the remaining part of the story alongside its ending is something not only we can gain some satisfaction with, but the author too can look back and say, "hey it was pretty good at least"

Gege doesn't seem to drop the ball too much with Yuji or at least megumi too, and I'm not too worried since they're my characters of interest currently, but I want to reread this story and actually believe it when I say I thought all the cast was good and I believe the writing can be better or can get worse (idk) but time will tell it all. I'm a recurring anon, so I'm sorry if the apologies are constant and sound like emails at the end 😅

Dear Recurring Anon,

HOLA! Thanks for being my recurring anon and reaching out again!

Ok but listen... I’ve been sitting on your ask for a while thinking of what I wanted to say and how to say it. I’ve probably started 3 different drafts for my response. So thanks for your patience!

Truth of the matter is that when I read your words, what it comes down to is that, even though you don’t like the recent direction the manga has taken, Jujutsu Kaisen still holds an important place in your heart. 

So I think the most important question to keep in mind is that, in a story like JJK where the strongest sorcerers have the most overwhelming sense of self... where does your sense of self stand in all of this?

What do you want to take with you from JJK? 

The stuff you didn’t like because it didn’t live up to your expectations? 

Or the stuff you loved even though JJK was incredibly flawed?

Of course there’s more word vomit under the cut lol... you know how I roll.

I’ll start by asking you to forgive me if I’m wrong and you just really needed a container where your thoughts on the current state of JJK would be honored and acknowledged. The truth is that I totally get where you’re coming from. 

I do. 

I hear you.

It’s just that it’s in my perhaps annoying nature to be stupidly optimistic even when I am being a realist. There’s always a silver lining to everything if you are willing to make the effort to find it. 

So, yes, I agree, and I’m also going to challenge you to find a way to continue loving JJK if that’s what you want for yourself.

That said... lets get on with the bitching lol.

Problems with JJK, problems everywhere!

Your concern regarding the pacing in the story is something that I share with you. Most especially the concern that, moving forward, Gege is going to cut corners. I’d also say that at this point this “concern” is factually canon lol. 

I also agree so much with the sentiment of “is he taking too much time on this when he should be addressing this other plot point?” And I think nothing captures that dilemma quite like the Culling Game arc does--ESPECIALLY with the way he handled the chosoyuki ordeal.

Like we got pages upon pages of all of these characters and exposition and dialogue and like... wait, what was the point of the Culling Game again? 

Why has no one died yet?! 

Why is Yuta kissing a cockroach and why are Kashi-chan and Kin-chan trying to see who has the biggest ego (pun intended)? 

Like I swear for weeks I've been like “ok it’s going down!!!! yeah here comes the angst and the deaths aaaaaaand ok never mind then.... maybe next chapter? ok.... next chapter? ok next chapter for sure. no? next chapter?”

FOR WEEKS! It’s all recorded in my chapter liveblogs lol.

Truth is, to me, the Culling Game is a weird arc because I am still trying to understand its significance within the larger Jujutsu scheme of things.

Perhaps he bit more than he could chew with the Culling Game? And as a writer myself I find this kind of relatable. I’m actually seeing what is happening with JJK and taking note of how having too many themes and plot lines can ultimately be detrimental to a story if you can’t, or are unable to execute them all to a satisfying conclusion.

So to your point about re-reading the Culling Game arc... let’s hope that Gege manages to bring it all full circle. But as things stand right now, we’re in the middle of whatever Gege has in mind so it’s hard to see the forest for the trees.

What I’ll say is that I have enjoyed parts of it with reckless abandon...

Literal picture of me reading through the absolutely ridiculous battle between Kashi-chan and Kin-chan:

I also think that, at best, we have gotten in-depth character studies (because Gege is harping on the idea about the sense of self being at the core of power in JJK) and needed exposition. 

For example, even though Naoya coming back was soooooo cringe to me, I can still see the purpose it served in the narrative. Did I enjoy the journey? Not really. Same for Maki’s development.

The thing is that even if I agree with you on everything I just mentioned... I can’t unsee the story written between the lines even if the execution of the panels falls short, because I am always reading at a meta level.

I am passionate about story telling and how stories move humans, so to me, now that I’ve seen and acknowledge these flaws in the work, reading JJK is less about what’s on the panels, and more about the story he is trying to tell on a meta level through the panels.

My chosoyuki meta is a great example of me recognizing the story being told between the lines. And once I went down all of the rabbit holes I went down, even though I agree wholeheartedly that the execution fell short, the story told in the symbols was amazing to me. It honestly made me wish that Gege would have had the patience, time, energy, and space to birth that side story into the world the way it deserved to be told.

To me, I want Gege to be able to ground his vision onto the page, but if he is not able to, I’m still there for the “story” told between the lines because there’s so few mangaka whose imagination has captivated me.

In the end, as you say, it does feel like Gege is struggling to ground his vision into the page. And it kind of does suck because we, as an audience, have to work that much harder to understand the story he is trying to tell.

But the story being told is still there... so now it’s up to you to decide what you want to focus on: the flop, the bad execution, the failed attempt, JJK not living up to your expectations, or Gege, the flawed human behind the manga, trying and showing up.

What is good enough for you? That’s something for you to decide. 

I’m not saying to ignore the execution. 

I’m saying to remember that this is Gege’s first manga and that JJK is not what it started as--but not because it’s gotten worse, but rather because JJK is now more like Gege than it has ever been... because in a story like JJK where the strongest sorcerers have the strongest sense of self... yadda yadda yadda.

Trust the process: life is a journey, not a destination

I think your concern that you want to experience the ending makes a lot of sense and feels very relatable even at this point in my life. 

But the truth is... 

Foregoing the journey in favor of the destination is a recipe for perpetual dissatisfaction. Look at what happened to Denji after he finally got to touch boobs!

Ok yeah, there’s a lot more to it than that in this particular case but the concept still applies.

It also applies to JJK. Again, right now we can’t see the forest for the trees because Gege is executing a complex arc.

The timeline is confusing af, and I think it’s because he may be trying to pull a similar literary trick to what happened in Westworld’s season 1 and 2 where the timeline is scrambled out of order to purposely confuse and mislead the audience. 

Perhaps the timeline is out of order for another grand purpose. Perhaps he just thought it would be fun and wanted to try to execute a fun literary trick.

But we won’t know until he delivers--and delivering is a process, not a destination.

And you know what... if you still get to the end and realize that you didn’t like JJK and the latter part of the story ruined your love for JJK, well...

It’s personal

Dude like... I respect that people LOVE Chainsaw Man, and I also think Chainsaw Man is ridiculously overhyped. I’ve seen countless of videos with people hyping it as the all end be all of manga and that Fujimoto is a genius and...

I. 

just. 

don’t. 

get. 

it.

I am just not a fan of Fujimoto’s brand of navel-gazing existentialism. It feels so anti-climatic to me.

Does that mean that CSM objectively sucks and is bad?! No. It’s personal.

Similarly, I overhype the hell out of CLAMP manga, and I am also aware that people might read CLAMP manga and not like it. 

Even so, to me, the four women behind CLAMP are genius story-tellers.

Shameless Subaru and CLAMP plug because this is one of my favorite Tokyo Babylon panels.

It comes back to personal taste, right?

For me, I love JJK despite the flaws because I still love the story being told between the lines, I find Gege’s brand of ironic humor funny, and I like how the story has progressed. 

Say goodbye to mainstream, Gege’s work might become a cult classic moving forward

Now... I bring up Fujimoto and CLAMP to illustrate the idea that there are people who are going to be dedicated fans of a mangaka and their work, people who enjoy and appreciate their work but don’t necessarily love it,  people who are in it for the hype, and people who don’t like their work.

CLAMP’s Cardcaptor Sakura is mainstream hype. Tokyo Babylon and Clover are what you read when you’re a hardcore fan.

Fujimoto’s CSM is mainstream hype. Fire dude punch something something and Goodbye Eri is what you read when you’re a hardcore fan. 

Watanabe’s Cowboy Bebop is mainstream hype. Zankyou no Terror and Carole and Tuesday are what you watch when you’re a hardcore fan.

Akutami’s Jujutsu Kaisen is mainstream hype. 

Gege followed the Battle Shonen recipe, added his own twists, and created an accidental mega hit. In fact, oddly enough, JJK has always been known as a story that defies expectations and uses tropes in new and unexpected ways.

So what happened? Why are people not liking Gege’s current execution?

To me, there’s something about how JJK is written that has changed, and it has nothing to do with Gege’s ability to write, and everything to do with his sense of self, who he has become in the process of writing JJK, and what he wants to express through his work.

In other words, JJK is more like Gege than it has ever been. Some people are going to like that, and some are not. 

Truth is that Gege is one of the VERY few mangaka who can write beautiful, multidimensional, engaging and extremely human characters who are true to their nature and aspirations.

He also writes on a very meta level and you don’t see that very often... like at all. 

All this to say that I think this is why you see such vastly different reactions in fandom right now. 

Some people still think he’s a fantastic writer and that he’s writing a unique work that has transcended generic Shonen tropes (like yours truly), and some people think that the way JJK is right now is generic Shonen. I don’t understand this last take but...

Who is right?

Who holds THE ultimate truth?

It doesn’t really matter because it’s personal.

All I know is that I am going to keep up with anything Gege publishes moving forward because I like the story he is telling through JJK.

Above all, I’m curious to see what other stories want to be born through him into this world.

Now, I HIGHLY recommend you listen to this 20 minute Ted talk by Elizabeth Gilbert to understand what I mean when I say that Gege is giving birth to stories. Her talk is a mind-opening take on what happens to your sense of self when you accidentally write a mega hit, and how that in turn affects your creative process.

I don’t know that this is how Gege sees his work as a mangaka, but I have to wonder about the possibility that Gege, someone who has very clearly studied the psychology of Carl Jung, sees JJK as an exercise in creative imagination, and/or as a story he’s been handed from the collective unconscious.

His job as a mangaka is to show up and write, to play, to express himself creatively.

That means that sometimes what he writes is going to be magnificent in the eyes of others, and sometimes it’s going to fall short of everybody’s expectations.

And that’s what it comes down to... 

Expectations

I see a lot of people complain about JJK failing to live up to their expectations without acknowledging that their expectations are simply that, expectations.

There’s nothing wrong with having expectations per se, and it is also important to realize when expectations are defining what we think is and isn’t good enough. 

And let’s not forget that you too probably don’t live up to other’s expectations. Does that mean that your effort too isn’t good enough? Gosh now I sound like Lacus.

Again... who holds the ultimate truth?

In the end, Gege is the one telling the Jujutsu Kaisen story. 

I also cannot emphasize enough that Gege is also a mangaka in the very early stages of his writing career. 

I don’t buy that his writing was better in the beginning of JJK. 

Quite the opposite, I see his writing AND art in the beginning of JJK as having followed a recipe: the three man team, found family, the strong mentor figure, etc... all the tropes are there executed in fresh and unexpected ways. 

But that was 5 years ago. Again... in a story like JJK where the strongest sorcerers have the strongest sense of self... what does that mean for Gege?

That said, Gege isn’t following the same recipe anymore, he’s coming up with his own recipe and he’s learning how to write his own recipe.

This is not to make excuses for him, it’s just something to think about because most people aren’t born naturally talented at anything that requires mastery, and writing is a craft that requires mastery through execution. 

As a quick side note, if you read Tokyo Babylon and Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle by CLAMP, the 10+ year gap between both manga shows a marked improvement in the writing. AND EVEN THEN CLAMP MANAGED TO FUCK UP THE TSUBASA PLOT!

In other words, Gege has to fail to get better. 

Now add to that the pressure of a weekly publishing schedule that dampens the creative process with tight deadlines, and then on top of that having to draw the whole thing. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

Gosh, if I had to guess, I would have to say Gege is ready for an extended vacation. 

But, as you say, I also just want for him to be satisfied with his story. 

As for us being satisfied with his story... well, it depends on what we choose to focus on.

Will you focus on how he failed at executing his vision?

Will you focus on the beautiful story he told between the lines?

Or will you focus on how how he managed to tell a beautiful story despite failing at the execution?

Can you hold the tension of opposites?

Ok SO SORRY this took me so long to get back to you my dear recurring anon. I just had so many thoughts because, like I said before, I agree with you, and I also wanted to challenge you to see things a little differently without being patronizing.

In the end, you want to continue to love JJK, right? 

So love JJK! 

Acknowledge its flaws and be at peace with them for the sake of that love. Nothing is perfect.

Anyways, I love that we can be in conversation about this and that you have come to me to share your thoughts on jjk. 

Merci beaucoup. 

#for anyone who thinks the writing in jjk sucks right now #and is worried about it #god I love jujutsu kaisen #ask the mental gymnastics anime girl

[superblysubparhuman]

"So Far, So Goode" : Chapter 11

This book contains MEGA Gallagher Girls and The Listen Series spoilers. You have been warned. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200 if you wish to avoid said spoilers.  

The door chimed as they all started coming in, their volume and size filling the diner perfectly timed to a very familiar boy standing and getting out of a booth, “Gallagher girl?” I heard a choking sound from behind me and I glanced to see my Grandma covering her mouth and my Grandpa grinning.

“So Far, So Goode” masterlist

Find it on Ao3 or Wattpad if you prefer

Warnings: This chapter introduces a character death - it doesn't happen in this chapter/maybe even this book, but it will happen and involves an original series character . See masterlist for overall warning in summary. 

A/N: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...

💜Any love, interaction or feedback is greatly appreciated and welcomed. 

Chapter Eleven:

I knew my mom was right. I did. Somewhere deep in me I knew she was. But I refused to turn around. To face her. To face my family. 

So I kept running. 

She was right. It was careless and dangerous to let a boy distract me that badly. My chest heaved when I thought about the test where I watched Peter die in front of me. What happens when a boy distracts me on a real op and it’s not a test anymore?

But what kind of world is it okay for a seventeen year old to think about that? What kind of life am I living where I have a constant fear of the people I love never coming home and what my last words to them would be?

And sure, people die every day. This wasn’t an exclusive problem to the world of espionage or one only I dealt with, I knew that. But this lifestyle, this career - it’s different. It’s knowing the exact probability and statistics of your family standing on the opposite side of a weapon every day and never seeing them smile again. And the terrible part is that they know the odds and they keep doing it.

They do it over and over again, making the odds change and shift, the possibility becoming more real every time, because no one is that lucky. Talented, sure, but when it boiled down to it, I was unfathomably lucky I hadn’t lost one of them yet. 

What if the luck was running out? What if it was dad that the universe decided to take finally? 

Why did he leave? He had to leave because of her. The picture in that hallway. The interrogation. The questions he answered. It was because of my mom. I knew it. And from the look on her face, she knew it too. Which made me think that if I did lose him, I’d never forgive her.

And what kind of daughter thinks that about their mother? 

I wanted to feel remorseful. I wanted to run back to her and apologize. To tell her that I loved her. But part of me could still feel the anger buzzing in my fingertips, coiled around my muscles waiting to take another stab at her. 

Because part of it felt good. 

I had never yelled at anyone in my family like that. I had never mentioned how absolutely destroyed I was becoming. Because, as the greatest operatives in the world, shouldn’t they have seen it? Shouldn’t they have seen how their sister, their daughter, grand and great granddaughter was completely torn in two lately?

One part of me was craving for any sort of a normal life. A girl who got caught stealing wine during a game of truth or dare. A girl who wanted to fail a test and not have the whole world look at her and ask how a Goode could fail. A girl who could be distracted by a boy. A girl who was worthy of being flirted with. Of being kissed. Of being invited to a party on a Friday night because that’s what seventeen year olds were supposed to do. All while a completely opposite part of me agreed with them, pushing the thought of boys away. Pushing away thoughts of a normal life. Working hard, focusing, needing to succeed. To thrive. All for them. 

None of them could relate to me though. They all had their thing. They were all Goodes. And somehow I was just here. Waiting for it all to click. Waiting for someone to tell me they felt the same way. Someone to tell me that I wasn’t alone. 

I wiped my nose on my sleeve and rounded the corner as the guard booth’s lights blinded me and I heard a voice call out, “Miss Goode?”

I waved, squinting against the lights and held my other hand up to shield my eyes, “Hey Lou.”

The lights turned off, one of our guards smiling faces called back, “Hey Freddie, ya owe me twenty bucks, she’s back already.”

A groan from inside and I raised my eyebrows and Lou crossed his arms, “When your mom told us you’d be coming back on foot we took bets. I said you’d run and be back before ten.”

I nodded and walked past them, “Make sure he pays you this time. I think I recall a bet about a certain someone stealing egg rolls and not being paid yet?”

They all laughed and called out, “Have a good night Jo.”

“You too!”

I went straight for the P&E barn, not ready to head into the school yet. I taped my knuckles and turned the radio on, my Aunt Char had changed it to an 80s station and I started punching the bag in rhythm to the frantic guitar, every punch to the bag felt like a blow to myself. 

“Jo, you ran out of two big CoveOps tests crying.”

Right, right, left to my sides.

“Jo, you caused a very unprofessional scene in CIA headquarters.”

Left and up to the jaw.

“Jo, you killed three men.”

Kick to the same side of the jaw.

“Jo, you let your brother die.”

Two lefts and right to the stomach.

“Jo, you let your team down. You failed. You let a boy distract you.”

Two with the right and a roundhouse.

“Jo, your dad is gone and he’s not going to come back.”

Right, left, right, left, over and over again until my vision started to go fuzzy.

I heard footsteps. The cadence and weight to them was so familiar I thought it was my father walking through the door. I heard his voice too, “Jo, stop.”

I shook my head, talking to an imaginary version of my father, “Can’t.”

“Joelene, hey. Look at me.”

I closed my eyes, pushing his voice out of my mind, “Go away. You’re not here.”

I kept punching and a palm caught my fists, green blinking eyes in front of me and I sobbed as he said, “I’m here. Stop. You’re bleeding.”

I looked down through my tears, my hands shaking and Andy held them, pulling me over to the first aid station.

He didn’t say anything more, he cleaned my knuckles and palms, re-wrapping my fists for me and went over and held the bag, looking at me expectantly. 

I started punching again, letting the music fill the silence and I felt his eyes burrowing under my skin and I sighed, “Would you just say or ask whatever you want and stop staring at me like that?”

He stopped the bag from swinging and he crossed his arms, “Do you do that a lot?”

I frowned, suddenly finding a spot on the mat very intriguing, “Do what?”

He bent down and caught my eyes, “Beat yourself up verbally like that?”

I shrugged and he blew out his breath, “Jesus, Jo, that’s not healthy. You were so far gone you didn’t realize how much you were bleeding. And it was like you weren’t here. Like you weren’t talking to me, like you were talking to…”

I cracked my neck and started punching again and he stopped me, “Stop. Don’t do this. You did good tonight, you-”

I ripped my hands from his grip, screaming at him, “Andy no I didn’t! Don’t lie! You’re telling me you’d have been okay with what happened tonight if we were in a real op together?”

He shook his head, “Jo, it wasn’t a real op, that’s why we do these-”

“Andy, we graduate in three months. The tests are almost over. This is real life. This is our future. For the rest of our freaking lives. And our kids’ lives. And their kids’ lives. And it’ll never be over. We’re always going to be freaking Goodes who have too much to live up to, who risk their lives without caring about the people we’re leaving behind.”

He tried to reach out for me and I stepped away from him, “Please leave me alone Andy. You don’t get it. None of you do. And that’s fine. Just let me work this out, I’ll be fine.”

His eyes bounced between mine, “I don’t understand where any of this is coming from. I get it if you’re nervous about graduating, but Jo, you’re good at this. This is in our blood, one night doesn’t mean-”

I started laughing and pulling at the roots of my hair letting out a frustrated groan, “You say that because you’re actually good at it Andy. You all are. None of you get it. Collins is some freakish alien who’s a pavement artist, a college student, and a medic. Leia literally flies freaking jets for the air force, Peter is stronger and smarter than dad, and you’re a natural pavement artist with better hearing than mom.”

I felt my chin wobbling and he whispered, “Jo, stop, you’re-”

“And you’re right, it is in our blood, but why? Why didn’t we get a choice? Why do we have to do what they do? It used to not bother me as much. But lately…” I ran my hands through my hair again, “I don’t belong here. And I’m starting to not care if anyone thinks I do or don’t anymore.”

His chin was trembling, “Don’t belong here, like at school, or our family?” I didn’t say anything and he whispered, “You don’t mean like, here, as in like…” he trailed off and he shook his head, reaching out towards me, “ You absolutely belong here. You do, we do care and-”

I shrugged, “I’m a failure and disappointment to the Goode name, so why keep trying? What’s the point anymore Andy?”

He shook his head and I mumbled again before he could respond, “What’s the point?”

I walked away from him, leaving my bloody tape in the trash and kicking the stereo off as I went. 

I didn’t head to my suite when I pushed through the front doors, but to the staff rooms, easing my father’s door open and crawling into his empty bed with perfect hospital corners he had made before he left. 

The smell of his soap and the heavy blanket felt like he was wrapping me in a hug and I let another tear slip from my eye into the pillow.

Maybe when I woke up this would all be a dream and he’d be ripping my covers off and telling me I was late for school. Back when I didn’t know about any of this, back when I was just Joelene Goode, normal girl. Back when I didn’t understand the weight of the name I’d be trying to live up to for the rest of my life. 

I knew it was all far too real as I opened my eyes to see my grandma sitting across from the bed, flipping through a file. She didn’t look up when she said, “You missed all of your classes today.”

I closed my eyes, “Sick.”

“Mhm. That’s what I figured and told your teachers.”

I didn’t open them as I whispered, “Thank you.”

She must have been waiting for me to open my eyes because when I did she smiled a sad smile, extending her hand, “Let’s go get some waffles.”

My stomach growled but I rolled over onto my back, “I’m not hungry.”

“Really? Your stomach seems to disagree.”

I closed my eyes again.

“Please? For my birthday?”

I was a terrible, terrible, horrible granddaughter.

I shot up, “Oh my god, grandma, I’m so sorry. I…”

She shook her head, pulling the covers away from my body, glancing at my bloody knuckles, “Go get cleaned up. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

I nodded, but stopped at the door, “When you say we…”

She sighed, her tone a warning, “Joelene.”

“Right, going to get cleaned up,” I turned back quickly and squeezed her shoulders, “Happy birthday.”

I raced through the halls and up to the room, three pairs of eyes blinking at me as I flung the door open and went straight to the dresser.

Sammy was the first to speak, “You’re alive.”

I didn’t turn to her when I said, “So it seems.”

“J, about last night I didn’t mean to leave you and Peter I just…” she cleared her throat, “I got sick.”

I looked at her, my face devoid of emotion and my voice monotone as I repeated the word back at her, “Sick.”

She nodded and I rolled my eyes at her terrible lie.

She spun in her desk chair slowly, “So…uh…where were you today?”

“Sick.”

She nodded, “Right.”

Lacey and Elise shared a look and I sighed, “Let me guess, you had a conversation with Andy?”

Elise cleared her throat, “He may have mentioned you making him worried during a conversation last night.”

I finished changing and started brushing my teeth, a perfect reason not to respond to that.

Elise softly called out over the running water, “He said you don’t care anymore?”

I shrugged, spitting my toothpaste, “I don’t.”

Lacey was leaning against the door frame, “Don’t care about what?”

I shrugged again, “I dunno. Anything. Everything. Can you move, I have to go get waffles.”

Lacey’s jaw set down hard, but she moved out of my way, the three of them watching me leave. When I made it to the foyer I stopped, my mom leaning against the door staring at the top of the steps, presumably waiting for me. 

I didn’t continue down them and we stared at each other. I felt the desperate urge to curl up against her and cry while she ran her hand through my hair and I apologized. But I also felt the tingling in my fingertips. The voice in my head telling me to yell some more. 

This was a very bad idea and I turned around, my great grandma there and pushing me down the steps, “Oh no you don’t, come on.”

“Grandma, I don’t feel good, I don’t want to-”

She smiled, “Well good thing we’re going to get waffles. Perfect cure for not feeling good.”

She squeezed my hand as she let go as we stopped just in front of my mom. My mom tried to smile at me, but I saw the painful look she sent to my Grandma Rachel who shoved us both out the door towards the waiting van. 

The doors were open, my siblings, my uncles, Becca and Rachel, and my grandparents already inside. Grandma Rachel closed the door and went up front, presumably where Grandpa Joe was behind the wheel. We climbed in and when my mom sat next to me I moved to the opposite side and all the way down the bench, pushing in between Rachel and my Uncle Scout. My mom hit her head back against the metal side and looked up at the ceiling, biting the inside of her cheek. 

As the van drove away we all sat in silence and I watched my grandpa nudge my mom’s foot and she opened her eyes. He raised his eyebrows at her, a small smirk on his face and she rolled her eyes, slumping down in her seat and glancing over at me.

I looked away from her gaze, and Leia was leaning forward across from me and nudged my knees, “Where were you today? You missed me, Collins and Bec talking to the CoveOps class.”

“Sick.”

She leaned back, raising her eyebrows, “Riiight. And I’m a millionaire.”

Collins tried to go along with the story, “Well, are you feeling better?”

“No.”

My siblings all stared at me, almost identical looks, but Andy’s was the worst and I glared back at him. 

Peter frowned, pointing in between us, “What’s your problem?”

Andy raised his eyebrows at me and I rolled my eyes, not wanting to discuss this at all, especially with the highly trained ears of my family listening, but I hissed quietly, “So you tell the girls but you don’t tell them? You’re a worse gossip than Uncle Scout.”

Uncle Scout nudged my foot, “I heard that.”

Andy leaned forward on his knees frowning, “Not that it matters, but I told Elise because she found me crying in the P&E barn.”

I sat back, blinking at him. I felt all the eyes on us in the van and I needed to get out, to breathe air that wasn’t from the people who could read minds and body language and facial features perfectly. 

Leia’s eyebrows furrowed , “Why were you crying in the P&E barn?”

I opened my eyes and Andy waited for me to say something. I only clamped my mouth down harder. Looking away from him. 

“Ask Joelene.”

I felt Peter shift, his whisper a little louder, “Jo, why was Andy crying in-”

I closed my eyes, “Peter, shut up.”

“Did you make Andy cry? Cause that’s a dick move Jo.”

Andy chimed in, “No, Peter, sto-”

I laughed, “Yup. Made him cry. Add it to the list.”

Peter leaned back and scoffed, “What list? The one of all your failures lately? I’ll see if there’s room in the margins for it, kinda running out of space.”

“Peter,” Andy shoved him.

“Enough,” my grandpa finally chimed in. 

The van pulled to a stop and I pushed past everyone, hopping out of it and making my way into the diner. 

If it were a day ago, I'd have shot back at him. I’d maybe have even punched him. I'd have ran all the way to D.C maybe. Looking back now, I know the breakdown in the barn was the shift I couldn’t come back from. 

I just simply didn't care anymore. And hearing my brother say something I had been telling myself already, convinced they all thought it, it pushed me over the edge. 

Numb, no feelings, no emotion. Falling into a pit that didn't have a bottom and didn't have a way out. And part of me wondered if I would even look for a way out if there was one. Maybe I belonged in that pit. 

“Oh boy, big group.”

I looked up to see a young waitress, maybe only a little older than me, probably my sister’s age. She was staring at my family getting out of the van and I nodded.

She pushed a pencil deeper into the honey colored curls piled on her head in a bun and smiled at me, “It’s my first night, will you guys go easy on me?”

I smiled, “Sure, it’ll probably be fourteen orders of waffles and coffee as a heads up.”

She blinked at me, “It’s seven at night.”

“We have a thing for waffles,” I looked out at them as Andy was pushing Peter, the two arguing and my mom stepping in between the two of them. 

The door chimed as they all started coming in, their volume and size filling the diner perfectly timed to a very familiar boy standing and getting out of a booth, “Gallagher girl?”

I heard a choking sound from behind me and I glanced to see my Grandma covering her mouth and my Grandpa grinning.

The waitress smiled at him, then at me, “You know each other?”

He grinned, “This is the girl that got Drew’s mouth to fall open like a fish.”

The waitress laughed, “Oh, you’re getting free coffee for sure now.”

“Cammie?”

My grandma’s voice mumbled behind me, “Oh my god.”

A family almost as large as ours all standing from a table full of empty dishes heading towards us.

My grandma waved, “Hey.”

A woman with perfect blonde hair smiled, “Cammie! Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you! You look great! Is this your family?”

She hugged my grandma who looked only slightly surprised before hugging her back, “Hey DeeDee.”

The blonde woman laughed, “Oh my god, I haven’t heard someone call me that in years. Usually just DeAndra nowadays,” she turned to my grandpa next, “Oh my gosh, Zach right?”

My grandpa smiled and nodded. My mom and Uncle Matt were watching all of this with small smiles on their faces and tried not to start laughing when they caught my great grandma and great grandpa’s eyes. 

The oldest man from the booth last night was looking at the boy and waitress in front of me and pointing between us, “Jacob, how do you…”

The boy, who I now knew was named Jacob, grinned at me, “We met at the hockey game last night.”

The waitress, a nametag with “Ellen” on it, laughed, “She’s the Gallagher Girl who got Drew to shut up for once.”

The entire family raised their eyebrows, one of the men around my mom’s age whistled, “You’re giving her free coffee for life right El?”

Ellen laughed, “Already on it,” she smiled at me, “Speaking of which, ya’ll go find a seat and I’ll get that pot of coffee started,” she touched my shoulder, “You said waffles and coffee all around right?”

I nodded and she rushed away, calling out I love yous to the family and the man who had greeted my grandma first pointed, “Granddaughter,” ruffled Jacob’s hair, “Grandson. Other two aren’t here unfortunately,” he smiled, “Ellen’s first day at work, so you’ll all be extra nice right?” He looked around at our family who all grinned and nodded.

My grandma smiled, pointing to all the children, “Grandchildren, one missing,” pointed to my mom and uncle who looked like they were going to burst, “Kids.”

The rest of his family greeted ours, we waved and smiled back. They started to trickle out of the diner, and DeAndra grabbed my grandma’s hand, “Can we catch up soon? Where are you guys living? What are you doing in town?”

My grandma looked between her and the man and cleared her throat, “I’m actually the Headmistress now,” she ran her hand through my hair, “Joelene here is in her last semester of senior year there.”

DeAndra squealed, “Oh I didn’t realize you were so close! Will you come for coffee? We still live on the same street, you remember where Josh’s parents' house was, right?”

My mom and the man, Josh, shared a pained expression and she nodded, “Sure, I’d love that.”

She nodded and squeezed her hand once more, “It was so good to see all of you, enjoy your waffles!”

Josh glanced at me and then his grandson Jacob and smiled a little, then turned to Cammie, “It was good to see you. And you know she'll barge down the doors and that wall of yours if you don’t come for coffee.”

My grandma laughed and nodded as he squeezed her shoulder and walked away, calling behind his shoulder, “Come on Jacob!”

Jacob winked at me, “See you later Gallagher Girl,” taking off behind his grandpa. 

When the door closed my mom and uncle finally broke, bursting out into laughter, my grandma Rachel and grandpa Joe trying to bite back smiles.

Collins looked between them all, “What? What is so funny?”

My grandpa Zach blew out his breath, “Well, Josh is your grandma’s ex-boyfriend.”

My grandpa Joe looked right at grandpa Zach, “Did he really call her Gallagher Girl? Twice? I’m not the only one who heard that right?”

My mom and uncle were wheezing, my grandma rolled her eyes, “Okay, okay, get into the booth now, or I’m eating everyone’s waffles.”

Peter was staring out the window, “They all looked really familiar right?”

My mom and uncle broke out into more laughter.

My grandpa flicked my mom and uncle's foreheads, “It’s not that funny.”

My mom was wiping her eyes, “Oh my god, dad, your face the entire time.”

I was still staring out the window at the family that walked out, “When did you date him?”

The laughter stopped and my grandma looked over at me, “What?”

I kept my eyes out the window, “When did you date him?”

She sighed, “My sophomore year of school.”

I frowned, “How?”

The whole family’s mood shifted, she shook her head, “It’s complicated.”

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, “So, if you were able to date someone in town, that means I could go on Friday night? To the party he invited me to?”

My mom shook her head, “No, you can’t.”

I looked right at her, “I’m not asking you.”

She shook her head, “Joelene, do not-”

I looked at my grandma, “Please?”

My grandma closed her eyes, “Joey, it’s not that simple. You can’t just leave on a Friday night and go to a party. Date people. If I let you do that then…”

“So, you dated him, decided you didn’t want that normal life, and now we all have to suffer for it? I don’t even get a choice?”

My mom’s voice was sharp, “Joelence Macey, enough of this attitude. You don’t talk to your grandmother like that.”

I glared at her and turned on my heel and walked out, leaving my family inside the diner and I held my tears until I reached the edge of the town, facing the long familiar stretch of road that led to my school. 

To be honest, I don't really remember the following days. My grandma says that your brain protects you sometimes, that you shouldn't go digging for lost information. That maybe you can't remember for a reason - some part of you knows you shouldn’t. 

When I think about the week of my grandma's birthday, I can't remember anything. I don't remember walking back to school. I don't remember conversations I had. I don't remember what I ate or where I slept. 

I do remember spending a lot of time in the passageways, never staying put, knowing my family knew them even better than me and they'd find me eventually.

I remember staring at a blank page in my notebook on Friday, hating how loud the sounds of the school were and dipping into a passageway. 

I remember wandering through the dust and cobwebs. My fingers guiding me through the dark as they slide along the rocky stone. 

And then I remember hearing voices, so I turned down a branch, a small crack of light spilling through. When I got closer I heard three familiar voices.

Report of Overheard Intelligence: 

Transcribed by Joelene Goode hereafter referred to as Operative Goode.

Mom: Have you seen her? She looks like a zombie mom. Is that what I looked like? How did you all...

Grandma: Well, if you remember, I wasn't here for most of the really bad parts.

Great Grandma: You looked worse.

Mom: Jesus.

Through the small crack in the stone, Operative Goode can see her mother laying back on the sofa, her hand over her eyes. There are three glasses of red wine on the coffee table and she grabs for one without opening her eyes. There is a tone to her voice the operative has never heard. 

Mom: I just keep hearing her say that it's my fault. God, what if something does happen to him? What if he-

Great Grandma: If something does happen, it is not your fault. And nothing is going to happen. He's not going to die. 

Grandma: You of all people know not to say things like that. People die, mom.

Great Grandma: Are you referring to your father, yourself, or me? Because technically you didn't die. And I'm not dead yet.

Mom: She got you there.

Operative Goode sees her grandmother start pacing, squeezing her fists together.

Grandma: I'm not cut out for this. Joelene is right. Who am I to tell her what to do? I can't do this without you mom.

Great Grandma: I wasn’t going to live forever Cammie. What did you expect? We’d all live to be thousands of years old? You’re not some sixteen year old anymore either you know. You have grown children. And grandchildren. You can't tell her what to do, but you can use your own experiences to help guide hers. To help her make the right decisions. All of them. Every single Gallagher girl. Stop worrying about me and the past and what could have happened and what will happen in the future and just…live your life kiddo. You’ve been through so much. Enjoy the time you have.

Operative Goode does not realize she had been leaning on the the stone in front of her and that if one leans in the exact right position, in that particular spot, one would trigger the bookshelf to spin around and cause one to fall on the floor in the office where the Overheard Intelligence was happening.

*End transcription*

Three sets of eyes peered down at me on my back and my Grandma shook her head and looked up at the ceiling, "You are so much like your mother."

My mom chimed in, "Hey, I only used that passageway one time. Pretty sure you used it a lot more than me."

My great grandma smiled, "Got you there kiddo."

I looked up at her, "What were you talking about just then?"

They looked at each other as I sat up.

My great grandma was wearing a familiar outfit, one I had grown accustomed to seeing her in lately, no longer her professional Headmistress clothes. A Blackthorne sweatshirt that was my great grandpas, well worn jeans, and wool socks. But, I noticed the way the sweatshirt hung looser around her shoulders. How her eyes looked a little dimmer. How her hair didn’t have that usual shine.

I wondered if I was just a really bad great granddaughter for not noticing or she was just that good of a spy for being able to cover it up.

I felt tears in my eyes, “You’re sick.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. A fact. I could see I was right the minute I said it.

I felt my chin wobbling, “How long?”

My great grandma sat down on the couch and curled up, “How long have I known and kept it from you all or how long do I have?”

I felt my breath catch. She was sick enough to have been told she had only so long to live?

I finally felt something more than numb. A tingling in my fingertips, and spine, something acidic in my mouth, a ringing in my ears, a wetness in my eyes.

I felt fear and anger and guilt and grief all tumbled into one new awful, all consuming emotion.

The words started falling out of me as I tried not to panic, “Well, you can take medicine. You can get treatment. Aunt Alice and Professor Anderson can think of something right? There are things we can do?”

My grandma turned away and poured herself more wine as my great grandma patted the couch and I went and sat next to her, curling into her.

She kissed the top of my head, “I don’t have a lot of time left. I won’t give you all the sad details. I’ve known for six months. And they’ve already tried Jo. Nothing’s working and I don’t want to spend my last days hooked up to machinery and needles poking in me. I’ve enjoyed the last six months and I’m even going on a vacation with your great grandpa soon. I can't remember the last real vacation I went on."

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head no, “It’s not fair.”

She laughed. An actual laugh, and I wondered how a woman going through so much pain could laugh like that. How she could stay so positive. She ran her hands through my hair and I sniffled into her shoulder.

When she finally spoke, it was barely a whisper, “I know it doesn’t seem fair, but I’ve lived a beautiful and supremely blessed life. I’ve seen and done things I didn’t think were possible. I have a beautiful, huge, crazy, wonderful family that I’ve gotten to see grow in ways I couldn’t have imagined. I am so undeniably lucky, that maybe it is just a little fair.”

I thought about how I had a not unsimilar thought earlier in the week. How could one family be so lucky…eventually it would have to run out. I had to tell her. I had to tell her how much she meant to me. I had to tell her how much I wanted to be her when I grew up. How much I looked up to her. But when I sat up and looked into her eyes she smiled and her thumb brushed the tears from my cheeks and she kissed my nose, I couldn’t find the words. They felt wrong and unimportant. 

Her chin wobbled and she covered her mouth, tears in her eyes. 

My grandma whispered from her spot across from us, “Joelene, you’re speaking in Romanian. Did you know you were doing that?”

I shook my head and covered my mouth, “I’m sorry, I'm tired and I...I had been writing a report about languages. Didn't mean to..."

I started crying and she pulled me closer, “Well, I’m glad you did," she whispered, right into my ear, "Do you remember what I told you before the welcome back dinner?"

I nodded and she kissed my temple, "Good. Don't forget it, okay?"

I sobbed, “I love you grandma Rachel, I’m so sorry."

“I love you too, Joelene. So much.”

Eventually I must have fallen asleep in her arms. When I woke up, I was still on the couch, the wine glasses abandoned on the table, my mom curled up asleep in the chair across from me. My grandma and great grandma gone and I knew from the sun setting on the horizon line it was just after dinner.

I stood up and made my way to my suite. I needed to feel something other than this anger and sadness. I needed to get out of this building. To breathe a breath of normal air. I needed to push back against the things that didn't feel right to me. 

The girls watched me as I rummaged through my closet and I pulled out my favorite pair of jeans and a top that Lacey had deemed date apparel if I ever went on such a thing and changed. Heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

Lacey followed me and stopped in the doorway, "Where are you going?"

I smiled for the first time in what felt like months, but in reality had only been a week. Opening my small and rarely used drawer of cosmetics.

"A party."

#so far so goode #the listen series #gallagher girls #yikes I'm not taking it easy on this family #Joelene Goode #Morgan Goode #cammie morgan #rachel morgan

[rk-ocs]

As Assassins creed shared a world with Watch dogs, and part of the premise was the (time) travelers changed things with their actions, in this AU, Lenna Pearce lived. And Also was Aroace.

Heres a storyshot of her telling that story to Red in the hospital.

---

Lena's tale

---

In where Lena tells Red a story that is a bit to personal to tell Desmond, an Red is everyone's goddamned sounding board, at some point.

Sometime when I was recovering Aidens niece, Lena, came to me, wanting to talk. I put aside my sketchbook, because she wanted my full attention. She looked really nervous, and it was strange seeing her like that. I was confused. Had we had a fight? Was I going to revive an apology for a fight that I Haden't participated in?

She sat down, and told me a story. Sort of.

Red closed her eyes, seeing if she could remember that story.

Her Audio memory was pretty good.

-------

August 18 2029

"Let me tell you about how I discovered I identify as Ace Aro, and what lead up to that.

I sort of want to tell you, not because I think my family will be upset with me, but because I want to tell someone who isn't always there first. Your close without being constant and if this doesn't go well, I'm pretty sure you will keep it  Quiet,  and won't be mean to younger me.  You've usually tried to keep your biases out of business, its simply not professional.

Sometimes I feel I put my foot in my mouth, and only realize after it is sent. I stare at the screen, an worry it will damage your opinion of me, because I like you, an I want you to feel the same. I don't want to send something you don't care about, or worse hate. I feel that way about almost everyone at times.

Id like to claim this is from a story. I sort of have it in story format, kind of, because it is. I am a storyteller. Stories are not just told in words. They are told in movies, and painting, and drawing, and singing, and dancing, and acting, video games, and mime. There are countless ways to tell a story.

Now Im getting really off track. Sorry.

-----

When I was little,  I was all caught up in the ideas of it. Movie ideas. Love was a big thing,  I got that.  I wanted one. When I was in church daycare I met a guy and I decided he was it. We were friends, we hit it off, played at each others houses. I told him I loved him. My fist kiss was probably with my second cousin. It was like movies. My second kiss was with a girl pre grade four , (we were playing shreck. She was Fiona. She sort of insisted she would tell if me or my brother didn't, and it was strange.

As I grew up the guy I decided was it, we were on off friends. We became closer in high school, in an English class with some other friends, but I was always weird with him because of that past.  I still feel strange about that.

You see, as I went from grade-school trough middle-school and high school, I saw a lot of relationships, and found, I didn't understand them. I'm not always a fan of being causally touched by strangers, how would closer work? Why Would I want sex? No really, I didn't get why people would want that.

Relationships seemed strangely complex, and I was realizing , I didn't like people like that. I didn't want someone like that. I wanted to be me.

Maybe I want a platonic partner. Someone Im comfortable enough with to lie on their stomach, as a preheated pillow. Cuddle.

My first kind of sex experience was with my best friend. It was sort of explore, before I realized I wasn't really into this, we stopped, agreed never to bring this up again, and are perfectly cool with each other. Sometimes Im a little weird it was her, but Im glad it was her, because she is my best friend, and I can't see figuring that out going over anywhere near as well with anyone else. I'm Asexual, probably disinterested. I can't imagine myself going all the way with anyone, and other people talking about it makes me feel, I don't care. I don't want to know. Stop talking to me about this.  I am not one for romantic tendencies.

I ship, but Im pretty likely to mock most Romance parts of the novel in some way.  Although I did like tris and Four in the divergent series. I don't really feel Katniss had much of a romance going on in the hunger games, it was more "a battle to the death, in an Arena, with someone who has a crush on you, followed up by your best friend who also have in a crush on you. Your curious, but also more concerned with your  surviving the death trap. You feel something for the boy with the crush, you can't escape a death arena together without building a bond, but I don't think it turned romantic until offscreen, and Katniss is probably kind of Demisomething."

I have never really cared about genders. I identify as girl,  but I don't feel compelled to be feminine. I stopped likening nail polish, because I liked having my nails smooth and strong.  I was the kind of kid who had to make up crushes when someone asked because I had none.

I had not intended to date anyone, because I had realized I really didn't want to. In the year of high school I took, to try and figure things  (and thankfully discovered I did not like exercise  science and did not want to be a massage therapist) , I meet, well I'm going to call him dude.

I met Dude in the library before class, with some other guys. We all cheated,  the bell rang. I stayed a bit longer talking , and bitched about how bad my day was going, and to make it worse I was on my period. Because, apparently I needed to vent to a stranger. Sometimes that happens. I have terrible timing. Anyway, dude took it pretty well, and that seemed good.

He seemed to want to be friends. We talked a lot. I taught him to play some card games in the library. He loaned me two DS games.  I went to his house to play games sometimes, and sometimes he came to my place.

I think the dynamic started to change when he started showing up at my classes. He started trying for contact. Hand on my thigh, sort of thing. I'm not big on contact. I can accept hugs, though I do better with warning. I was fine hugging him, or as fine as I am hugging most people who aren't that close. (I think I would happily, if a tad awkwardly at times, hug you Grace in life, no worries, just give me some time). I did feel a bit awkward about Dude doing that, but tried to ignore it for the sake of friendship.

He showed up in my classes to talk, to my dance practices, and I kind of had the feeling he liked me and was being purposefully oblivious, I think.

One day, I was working on an art project over lunch, and He showed up and asked me to be his girlfriend. I said no. He had indirectly broached the topic in a past talk, where I had mentioned I was fairly certain I was ace Aro.

I said no. He told me I couldn't be certain of that, if I had never dated anyone before. We talked/argued it over lunch, and eventually I said yes. We tried holding hands later that day, and I discovered I find it bizarre. Why do people do that? Where is the appeal.

As boyfriend the routine changed a bit. He still showed up to classes to talk to me, but when he left, he kissed me on the cheek. I blushed and didn't know what I should feel about that. It seemed sweet, but I didn't really want it, and didn't know, should I stop it? Would that be rude?

We still gamed at each others houses, and he came to my Dance recitals. I didn't want him there, because dancing was Mine, but I didn't know how to say it.  I refused to let him touch my hair, because I don't like anyone but my parents touching my head. Otherwise I think of head-lice or hairdressers. It's just strange. My brother hated people touching his head too, but I used to ruffle his hair anyways, because I was his bratty younger sister. I called him and his hair, fluffy, and It annoyed him so much. He hated it. I think that was a sibling privilege.

One time he tried to go for the first kiss, but we turned to fast and our noses bumped. I laughed it off, and he laughed and admitted that was not how he intended that to turn out.

(He didn't try again)

Our first date had us going downtown   to some places I like. We had  BBQ pork (both separate ) and went to David's Tea. We took turns paying, I insist on paying people back, even if I'm a bit low. At a pawn shop, I bought myself a used DS. He tried to pay for it, but I insisted.

He gave me a bag of Queen of Tarts blend (from said tea store, I like that tea store, and will try to make all guests and people I meet a loose leaf blend) now I don't drink that blend (but I still eat BBQ pork. No one will make me give up BBQ pork). I feel sheepish whenever I drink that blend.

He was a nice guy, I was just not wanting to be a girlfriend.

I don't know how to break up with people.

He asked me to text him over the summer. I am not always the best at keeping in touch with people I like, though I think I'm improving sort of.

Losing my was an accident. I couldn't text anyone.

I didn't have his number anymore. I couldn't remember If I actually knew the way to his house.

I saved money for two years intending to buy an sort of apology cake.

A small part of me picked my collage because he was going to my other first choice. I have never regretted that. My collage was awesome.

I love collage.

Last, I still have his games. I feel weird whenever I take them out to play them. Even though I got my  own  Version , and I can play that fine, I just still feel sort of bad about accidentally sweatering him out of games.

I felt weird about him for a Long time. Still sort of do sometimes. "

------

Actually the story she told is a bit too personal to be telling to you.  Just know that I gave her a hug, and she snuck peanut brittle into the hospital for me, for listening.

#aromantic #aroace #arospec #writing #red jordan ryan #original character #desmond miles #watch dogs #assassins creed #lena pearce #first person perspective #first person pov

[happy-krystin-day]

We're 19 and We're on Fire

Hello, baby! Happiest birthday. I can't believe we're 19. We are so fucking old now haha. Feels fucking bad. I don't want to grow old, it's the scariest thing in the world, y'know! The uncertainty, the ambiguity of it all makes me want to throw up.

Anyway, thank you for being there for me (as always). Like c'mon! Aren't you supposed to be sick of me now? Haha! This year has been one roller coaster of a ride. We graduated high school, got into univ, gained so many people—lost some of them, too. But one thing remained constant: we're still the matthew-krystin duo that I've come to love waaaay back in 8th grade.

I love that I made this Tumblr page. I've decided to tone it down on social media (I'm probably not gonna commit to this, as always). But I'll try hard to be more "in life" than "on phone" in 2023. Isn't this neat? We have a whole Tumblr page for us! This is too iconic hahaha.

Okay enough with the ramble, here comes the sincerest (I tried) birthday greeting for the one and only Krystin Biscocho!

First of all, baby, I know you've been down these past few weeks—hell—even months! Please know that I'm always here to listen to you. I'll always try to reserve a time lengthy enough to listen to your rants, a place secured enough to pamper your cries, a heart willing enough to always treasure the greatest friendship that is ours.

Thank you for always believing in me. Every night, when I feel like I'm working hard without anyone rooting for me, you always somehow appear. Then I get sucked in back to reality: Krystin's always got my back, then I stop worrying. Thank you for giving me that power. I hope that you will carry with you the same power wherever and whenever—I'm here, always believing in you as well.

Allow me also to apologize on behalf of my friends who have harmed you. They just don't know the real you and honestly, it's their loss. This year, I've become so obsessed with how people perceive me. I guess it's one of the downsides of studying in the Ateneo. You get so conscious, the people make you conscious. It didn't help that I got Grindr cuz that got me soooo obsessed with male validation lmao! We are so problematic, lemme book an imaginary therapist for us. But one thing that I realized is that what other people think of us really doesn't matter at the end of the day. It sounds so cliché, but it's so true! I hope that when people you don't love judge you, you'll come to neglect them, because first of all, who are they to say something about you when they haven't experienced being comforted by you after getting harassed by straight guys in the middle of the night? Who are they to say something when they haven't seen you mourn a relationship you treasured for three years, only to be ended by the fear of what's to come next if said relationship is to be continued? Who are they to say something when they don't know you at all? Your complexities, your identity, YOU.

Listen, baby, if they got something to say, LET THEM FUCKING SAY IT. Free yourself from the stress of it all. Protect your peace. Only the people you love and the people who matter to you should be heard. Choose which criticisms to take, and which to throw into the void.

This is getting quite long, so I'll end this with one of my favorite poems (I've been so obsessed with them huhu). This one's by my fave, Louise Gluck.

The Evening Star Louise Gluck

Tonight, for the first time in many years, there appeared to me again a vision of the earth's splendor:

in the evening sky the first star seemed to increase in brilliance as the earth darkened

until at last it could grow no darker. And the light, which was the light of death, seemed to restore to earth

its power to console. There were no other stars. Only the one whose name I knew

as in my other life I did her injury: Venus, star of the early evening,

to you I dedicate my vision, since on this blank surface

you have cast enough light to make my thought visible again.

Thank you for being my first star—thank you for being this Earth's Venus. And like the fiery red that is Venus, may we proudly sing: WE'RE 19 AND WE'RE ON FIRE! I love you, baby. Happy 19th birthday.

[enhypia]

JS ; exes

exes answers questions with the choice of drinking instead of answering

pairings: park jongseong x gn!reader

genre: angst, mild fluff

words: roughly 1.7k

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

~guides and warnings~

italics - reader speaking

bold - jay speaking

[enclosed] - interviewer speaking

italicized bold - both reader and jay speaking

[enclosed bold or italics] - question (depends on who's speaking)

heavily inspired by: rec.create lie detector games, cut truth or drink

warning: contains and mentions of !!! drinking, swearing, neglect, breaking up

i don't promote underage drinking, save your livers

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

hello, i'm (y/n)

and i'm jay

we're (awkward eye contact)

uhh we're exes

[you guys were invited here today as exes for a fun little drinking game, you guys were aware of that right?]

yes

yup

*interviewer shuffles awkwardly

sorry it's just, our friends were the ones who signed up for us

yeah, we just found out about it three days ago

[but are you guys still okay with doing this?]

we're okay

just give us a few minutes to get used to environment

*(y/n) chuckles

[okay, for this game, questions will be asked and if you refuse to answer, you drink, it's that simple. are you guys ready? should we start?]

*jay nods

ready as i'll ever be

[how long were you guys together?]

we were together for almost 3 years

[how long have you guys been broken up?]

about a year and a half now

[who broke up with who?]

i did they did

[why did you break up with him?]

so this was all a year and a half ago okay? no coming for jay, he's grown, we've grown

thanks?

you're welcome

*jay laughs

uhh.. it just really reached a point where i felt neglected in a way? and it was just tiring? i kept thinking 'do i deserve this treatment?' and i hated that i was doubting everything, including his feelings. so i just said let's talk about it and then yeah we split up

*jay drinks and (y/n) laughs

sorry sorry

nah i just needed that

[okay, how about we officially start the q&a portion between the of you now?]

*both nod and played rock paper and scissors to determine who gets to ask first, jay wins

*he picks up a card and facepalms after seeing the question

goddamn

should i be scared?

not sure, but you might opt to drink though

[do you blame me for what happened to us?]

oh my god *(y/n) laughs

i know right

so we're unpacking emotions today? okay noted

you can just drink if you're not comfortable with it

i'll drink but i'll still answer, might ease your mind no?

*jay couldn't stop his head from nodding

*(y/n) drinks

i admit that i blamed you at first, but then i got to thinking that it wasn't just you, i was also at fault too since i never really vocalized what i felt? i just let it build up until it reached the point where you couldn't do anything about it anymore, and i couldn't too.

yeah but it's more of my fault since i felt something was wrong but i just brushed it off, i brushed you off.

....

shot?

*jay smiles slightly and both raised their glasses to cheers before drinking

we were both at fault and i don't blame you, jay. i hope you stop blaming yourself

*(y/n) smiles softly then picks up a card to stop any reply they might get from jay

god why are these questions so heavy? it wasn't like this from other episodes

*jay and crew laugh

okay, hit me

[what's your biggest regret about our relationship?]

what the fuck

SEE ?!

*both laugh and jay drinks

okay, next question

no, i'm answering

[we won't stop you but just reminding you both that it's okay not to answer if you drink]

the alcohol releases the unhinged-ness

in other words, this is really just us using the alcohol to actually say what we feel

i think you already the answer, and it's that i didn't do anything about us even if i felt something was wrong. i just kept on focusing on my career that i reached a point where i brushed everything off as nothing. and in the end, while i got the success i wanted, somehow i also feel like i'm on the losing end really.

*(y/n) drinks making jay laugh

what? it's my first time hearing all this !

it was a rough break so

omg is this our closure ???

*jay's eyes widened

and it's filmed ?!?!

*everyone laughs

couple goals *(y/n) does a hashtag

oh wait *(y/n) looks at jay

exes goals *both do a hashtag pose

*they laugh, ignoring the sting in their hearts

okay, okay moving on

*jay laughs again

is it a heavy one again?

nope

[do your friends hate me?]

*(y/n) bursts out laughing

please 😭

we have the same friends

we share a lot of mutual friends

that's why there was like tension for a month in the friend group because no one knew what to do

i'm sorry you had to endure all that friends

remember when they literally made an organized schedule to hang out where we wouldn't see each since the break up was still fresh?

yeah like i got heeseung on tuesdays

and i got him on thursdays

😭😭😭

we love them though, they did their best to console us both

thanks guys <33

*(y/n) picks up a card

goddammit

[do you think we could've actually worked out our problems?]

i think it's unfair that i get a lot of heavy questions

i have the power of god and anime on my side today

i think we could've, if i just had taken the actual time to reflect and sit down and talk, we could've worked it out.

*(y/n) slaps jay's arm

i told you, stop blaming yourself

k

*(y/n) rolls their eyes

*jay picks up a card and

oh

what?

*he is stuttering guys, he is fidgeting

[do you wish we were still together?]

oh

yeah

.....

*both drink

i mean-

*jay has been paralyzed, he did not expect (y/n) to answer

i'm happy where i am right now, maybe there are moments of weakness that the thought crosses my mind but i don't dwell on it too much. i think we're both still learning and growing.

*jay doesn't want to think about the fact that (y/n) never said a clear yes or no

*(y/n) picks up a card and groans

please just drink to this

why?

[what do you think of me now?]

....

drink.

no?

why?

because-

why?

i'm answering

why?

i want to?

no.

right now i'm just really proud of you.

*WORLD PAUSE, (y/n) is malfunctioning

it's a little sad that i didn't get to witness a lot of it but i promise i watched from afar and i'm so proud of you. like it makes me feel lighter in a way? knowing that you're still going and pursuing your dreams. it just made me at ease that -

*(y/n) drinks, looking very much like snow white's apples

are you blushing?

jay i will kick you

*he laughs and pinches (y/n) cheeks making them redder, (y/n) slaps his hands away

i won't hesitate bitch

how about you huh?

[what do you think of me now?]

*jay you should know not to tease too much or else it'll bite you back

i think you're absolutely amazing.

*jay could only blame himself

i am in constant awe and there's this pride that i have in me whenever i see you thriving. it's weird because i thought i'd be bitter about it, but since i knew of your goals and how passionate you were, all i felt was pride. it did hurt a little that i couldn't go "that's my baby!" anymore.

*alert! jay's ears are red and it's spreading to his cheeks and neck

okay next question!

*he quickly picks up a card making (y/n) burst out laughing

everything i said was true though.

hajima. stop. pause. i'm not listening

*(y/n) laughs at flustered jay

this is the last one.

[question for both: if you could tell me anything, what would you say?]

sheesh

same

rock paper scissors? loser goes first

*jay wins

*(y/n) drinks

can you turn around for this one, like don't look at me.

*jay followed

i want to say that,,,, that it's not your fault for putting your future first. it kind of stung since you made me feel like i wasn't a part of it but i know that wasn't your intention. i understand your actions and i don't blame you. if i was in your position i probably would've been the same. i'm sorry that i didn't try harder, like you said we could've made it work but i just got so tired, i hope you can forgive me for that as well.

okay i'm turning around as well, your turn

*(y/n)'s eyes are glassy, but jay doesn't need to see that

i want to say that i'm sorry for neglecting you. i feel like you're tired of me saying sorry but that's really all i could do. i forgive you by the way even if i don't get why you're apologizing to me. i also want to say that, it wasn't you. it sounds cliche but you weren't the reason i became like that, it was me. it was never you. so please don't blame yourself for anything. please don't question your worth because you were more than enough.

yah i didn't want to unpack that

well i still know you and i was given the chance to say it now so

*(y/n) turns around wiping tears, jay is sniffling

i need a drink damn

*(y/n) pours a shot and jay as well, both drink after clinking their glasses

[you guys good?]

*both looks at each other and chuckles

we're good

i can't believe we have to thank our friends for setting this up

*jay groans

[care to answer one last question that is in everyone's minds' right now?]

oh god

is it what i think it is

[will we see you guys be featured again? maybe exes to couples again?]

let's drink!

*both take one last shot and waves to the camera

*(y/n) shrugs and jay winks

bye~

»————-　♡　————-«

bonus: youtube comments (peep last one)

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

a/n: i was planning to post this sooner but my pharma prof suddenly dropped a 6-page activity lmao rip, im scheduling the timestamps i forgot to post last update sorry sorry. my angst skills are subpar forgive me but i tried my best. i hope you like this one too !! jake's will be uploaded next ! please look forward to it <33

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