#maybe I’ll update my pronouns who knows

[froggibus]

The Death of Peace of Mind - Stu Macher! Ghostface

Pairing: Stu Macher! Ghostface x f! reader (reader uses female/she/her pronouns + has a pussy), Billy Loomis! Ghostface x f! reader (at the end), Billy Loomis x Stu Macher

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2k

Summary: after finding out your boyfriend is the masked killer who’s been plaguing Woodsboro, you only have one request—you want him to take out his darkest urges on you

CW: Dark content ahead!!! dubcon, knife play, blood play, bondage (use of handcuffs and blindfolds), Stu cuts reader, bloodloss, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex (yk what im gonna say), creampie, Stu chases you with a knife, exhibitionism/voyeurism, mentions of a threesome, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

incredibly self indulgent fic of my favorite Ghostface & the idea of being railed by him <3 this is a bit darker than what I normally write lol, also very tempted to write about getting railed by both Billy & Stu now

update ish? self indulgent part 2 w both Stu and Billy here

————

The minute the phone rings, the blood rushes to your ears. The entire town of Woodsboro had been warned against answering calls from unknown numbers after what happened to Casey and Steve. You weren’t worried, though. 

Why fear the boogeyman when the boogeyman is the only person who makes you feel safe?

Stu always insisted on never letting you see the darker parts of him, on never sharing the weirder things he was interested in. He wanted to protect you from himself and the fucked up things he wanted to do to you. That all changed this morning when you stopped by his house to make sure he was awake in time for school, and saw the Ghostface mask in his closet. 

You had grabbed it and tossed it at him, forcing him to explain himself. 

The boy had stuttered over his words before he finally confessed: he was the one who had been killing people all around Woodsboro. Even more surprising than that was that he had a partner. Everyone, even the police, had only suspected one person was doing it. 

He mumbled countless apologies, begging you not to leave him and begging you not to tell anybody or else ‘he’ would be mad. In all of his grovelling, though, he never mentioned who his partner was. 

You cut him off. “Is this the dark stuff you didn’t want me to know about?”

He nodded slowly, tips of his ears burning red. 

“Stu, I’m not going to tell anyone,” his head snaps up at your words, eyes lighting up. “But I have one condition.”

“Anything.”

You take a deep breath, biting your lip. “I want you to lose control. Do whatever you want to me, just let go. Don’t worry about whether I like it or not…just, show me those parts of you.”

“Y/n…”

“I mean it, Stu. Please?”

He’s reluctant to give in. He knows he would never hurt you, at least not severely, but the thought of showing you who he really is and what he wants to do makes him shiver. He doesn’t want you to stop looking at him like you do now. 

Still, he gives in. He tells you to go home and relax, and maybe stock up on first aid supplies.

The thought of what he’s going to do to you fills you with excitement. 

And now you’re sitting next to the ringing phone, knowing when you answer it that things will never be the same. 

You press the phone to the side of your face, the cold buttons raising goosebumps on your skin. “Hello?”

“Hello, y/n.” The voice on the other end is deep and raspy, so masculine it has you clenching your thighs together. 

“Who is this?”

Stu can’t help but smirk on the other end of the line. You’re playing the part of the innocent, dumb victim perfectly, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on. God, the things he wants to do to you. 

“You tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine,” he responds. 

“I don’t think so.”

You lay down on your back on the couch, playing with your hair, with the collar of your shirt, anything to keep you focused on the man talking in your ear. 

“Come on,” he almost growls, “why don’t you tell me your name?”

You can’t help but giggle at the frustration in his voice. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I want to know who I’m looking at.”

You suck in a breath. Smooth, you think. If you were anyone else, if you actually thought there was a chance he would kill you, his words would make you freeze. But tonight, all they did was make you shiver in anticipation. 

You can feel your underwear soaking through with your arousal, your whole body warming. “L-looking at?”

Stu almost laughs at the way you nervously stutter. You sound so cute, so innocent…he really can’t wait to ruin you. He stifles his laughter from inside the closet. 

“You heard me,” he says. “Don’t you want to know where I’m hiding?”

“You’re…you’re inside?” 

A wave of fear washes over you. How had he gotten inside without you noticing? Is this how he had gotten to Casey, too? You hate how much it turns you on to think that he’s been here the whole time. 

“Take a guess, come find me.”

Stu watches through the crack in the door as you stand from the couch with that puzzled look on your face. You spin around, the phone still pressed to your ear. 

“What happens if I find you?”

Stu stays silent for a minute, watching you look around the living room to find him. Just as you get to the closet, your palm resting on the handle, he responds. 

“I get to see what your insides look like.”

He pushes the closet door open and shoves you against the wall. You squeak, letting the phone clatter to the ground. Stu grabs your wrists in one of his hands and pins them above your head. 

His other hand reaches for the knife in his waistband, holding up at eye level so you can see it. Your heart speeds up, your arms shake, your knees threaten to buckle. 

He presses the knife at the centre of your collarbone, just above where your t-shirt begins. You can feel the sharp tip press into your skin, just enough to cause a bead of blood to roll down your chest. 

“The things I’m going to do to you,” he breathes. 

You almost call his name, but you know he’s not your boyfriend right now. You know he needs to let go, and part of that is to let go of himself, too. 

He drags the knife down, cutting into the fabric of your t-shirt. He applies just enough pressure to easily slide the fabric, but not enough to actually hurt you. Still, you can feel the cool metal on your bare skin and it causes you to whimper. 

Stu groans. You’re being so good for him, standing so still and just letting him do what he needs to do. He digs the knife into the soft fabric of your shorts, taking his time in slicing them down the middle. 

Both pieces of fabric fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear in front of him. “I-I—” you’re not sure what you’re trying to say, but the words won’t come out regardless. 

“I-I-I,” he mocks, holding the blade against your throat. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

You whimper and kick against him, your knee grinding against the bulge in his robe. He drags the knife just above your collarbone. He presses in hard, hard enough to draw blood. 

The warm blood leaks down your chest, dripping down your stomach and your underwear. The slight sting makes you whine even more and rub your thighs together. 

He releases your hands. “Run,” he whispers. 

You don’t waste a second in obeying him. As soon as your feet are on the ground, you’re tearing away from him. You can hear him walking at a leisurely pace behind you, laughing mockingly. Something about him chasing you, cutting you…it’s overwhelming, it makes your head fuzzy with pleasure. 

You run up the stairs, turning away as soon as your feet meet the plush carpet of the landing. You turn around, only to see that he’s gone. You suck in a breath. Where could he have gone?

Arms wrap around your waist, a knife pressed into your side. “Got you.”

You squeal, kicking against him. He’s much stronger than you, though. He pushes you against the wall, using it as leverage to lift you up. 

You wrap your legs around his waist and let him carry you to your bedroom. He tosses you onto the bed, slamming the door behind him. You squirm, your sheets staining with the blood that dripped down your body while you ran. 

You look up at him with those damned eyes, blinking slowly. His robe is stained with your blood, the knife in his hand slick with the red. 

He crawls on top of you, yanking your underwear off and tossing them into the corner of the room. Your pussy is soaked as it is, but your blood has started to run into the juices, and the smell is fucking intoxicating. 

He moves his face between your legs, the white mask looking up at you. You whimper and roll your hips against his face, staining the white with your red. 

He tears off a strip of fabric from his robe and ties it around your eyes. “No looking,” he orders. 

He tilts the mask up just enough so that his mouth and nose are out before licking up the blood from your thighs. You taste just as good as you smell, and it only makes him want more. He flicks his tongue across your opening and you whine, bucking your hips against his face. 

He goes to work licking and sucking at your clit. He’s drunk from the taste of you, and all he wants is more. He presses the knife against your thigh, digging it in hard enough to draw blood. The pain in your thigh mixed with the pleasure in your core has you crying out, forcing you over the edge. 

You finish hard, your slick coating his mouth and nose. He doesn’t stop, though. He keeps eating you out like you’re his last meal. 

“P-please,” you whine. 

“Please what?”

“Stretch me out, ruin me, just…please?”

Your breathless begging is so fucking cute that he can’t hold back anymore. He pulls the mask over his face again, laying on top of you. He pulls out a pair of plain metal handcuffs, and gets to work securing them around your wrists. He does it tightly enough that it digs into the skin and makes it impossible to escape, but not tight enough to be painful. 

You struggle against the restraints, unable to see or feel him now. He shuffles against you awkwardly, pulling his cock out of his pants. He’s already rock hard, the tip coated in precum. 

He lines up the head at your entrance and shoves his way inside. He’s so perfectly sized, always stretching you out perfectly. You whine, instinctively going to reach out for him before remembering the restraints on your wrists. 

His thrusts are desperate and needy. All he wants, all he needs, is to bury himself inside of you. To fuck you like he needs to and absolutely ruin you. 

“F-fuck,” you stutter out, forcing your hips against his to meet his thrusts. 

His hands grip your waist tightly, his mouth hovering over your pulse point. He licks up the remaining blood from the cut on your collarbone, and the copper taste on his tongue only drives him to fuck you harder. 

The way you're so wet for him, just from him cutting and fucking you. Hovering above you, fucking you like it's the last time, he's never felt more content. It's like the darkest parts in you pacify the darkest parts in him, and that's all he's ever needed.

You can feel yourself getting close, your muscles contracting with every deep thrust. You feel slightly lightheaded, but you’re not sure if it’s from your last orgasm or the blood loss. 

Stu holds you closer, his body collapsing onto yours as his thrusts get sloppier. You know he won’t last much longer, either. 

You squirm, bucking your hips to try and get him as deep as possible. He hits that sweet spot one more time and you come undone, your muscles spasming around him. Your pussy clenches around his cock and that’s all he needs to spill hot cum deep inside of you. 

Your head rolls back, your body going limp. Stu pulls out, kneeling on top of you. “Think you can go another round?”

“C-can you?” You breathe heavily. 

He reaches his hands around the back of your head to remove the blindfold. It takes a minute for your eyes to focus, fixating on the masked man above you. 

“Not me,” he grabs your jaw in his hand and turns your head to the corner, where a man in an identical costume stands. “Him.”

“Him?”

The masked man steps forwards, slowly pulling the mask from his face. Billy Loomis is smiling at you like the devil, “hello, y/n.”

He pulls the mask back on, coming to rest on the bed next to Stu. Both of the Ghostface killers have their eyes fixated on your bound, writhing form on the bed. 

“I think she can do one more,” Stu says. 

“I think so too. I think she could take both of us.”

“B-both of you?” 

Neither boy acknowledges you, too busy talking as if you’re not laying right in front of them. God, they’re going to be the death of you. 

#ghostface x you #ghostface #ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #ghostface x female reader #stu macher ghostface #billy loomis #stu macher #stu macher x female reader #stu macher x you #stu macher x reader #Billy loomis ghostface #Billy Loomis x reader #scream x reader #scream smut #scream x you #scream #x you #x reader

[kazbrekkerscrutches]

Xavier Thorpe - Take my hands

Warnings: Mention of burial, dark humor(like at one place), overall fluff, scratches

Words: 1.8k

GN PRONOUNS

Trope/Context: Reader is antisocial, not related to Wednesday Addams, but is the MC (storyline modified), Childhood friends to lovers <3, slowburn (A/N: One of my favorite tropes lmao, enjoy!)

Black settled into my room. Not the usual morning sunshine.

Rain and clouds.

Ever since I got to this school, nature has been turning darker and darker everyday. My own room, shared with dear Enid feels even more hollow than usual.

“You have to wake up, Y/N!”

“Yes Enid, you could wake up the dead with that perfume you spray on everyday.” I replied snarky.

“Rude.” I watched her get out of the room after I took off the covers from me.

I liked her, maybe it was a secret to anyone in my life, but I do like her. She is nice. Probably the nicest person you could ever meet that doesn’t kill people for fun.

My visions have been more intense recently. Anything I touch makes me afraid that I will discover something about it. It is scary; that pleasant feeling of being touched by a live wire, but not every minute of everyday.

For some obscure reason, I could not get a certain person out of my head.

Not Enid, you may ask, but a certain seer.

Xavier.

It is not for the usual teenage gossip type of thinking. He is my prime suspect as of whom the beast may be. The Hyde. The hidden Jekyll.

Everything about his behaviour, timing, thinking seems to fit so perfectly. Too perfectly.

“Thing. Please write something to you know who. Don’t make it cheesy. Make it brief.”

I turned my head to look at Thing only to ear a thumbs up from him. Well, that may be good enough to talk to a hand.

As I walked to go to class, that darkness felt even more closer. Like it was following me from behind my back. It felt like a tick was tickling my brain, to try and tell me something.

I arrived in class, only to find Xavier sketching something in his book. I approached silently only to find him adding shading to a cello.

My cello.

My instrument.

My brain cannot deal with this right now.

“Hi Y/N, always a pleasure seeing you around.” Xavier turned around, offering me a warm smile. That turned something in a stomach. Good? Bad? Weird?

I’ll take weird.

“Felt inspired by my serenade?” I offered him my signature glare, looking over his shoulder to see his drawing.

“Truly inspiring.” He turned back to his drawing, leaving me behind him.

Those scratches on his neck, so curious. No wonder he is my primary subject.

“Stop glaring and sit down. I don’t bite.” He whispered. I snapped out of my mind, sat down besides him.

“I do like biting.” He looked up from his drawing, my Y/E/C eyes. His beautiful green eyes. He smirked a little bit before Ms. Thornhill started her class.

I don’t know what I was supposed to feel. How I was supposed to feel. Yes, he is my prime suspect but he saved me from Rowan. He was always somewhere, lurking in the shadows. My shadow not longer felt like one.

[Flashback]

“Help! Please someone help!” I heard screams coming from the casket. Hell, did that boy’s godmother come back from hell?

That thing did not sound like a women. More like a boy. I moved around the purgatory only to find a big red button with STOP on it.

“Ridiculous.”  I pressed on it; the coffin stopped its way into the pit of fire. I opened the coffin only to find the boy. We were supposed to play hide and seek.  

“What are you doing in here? This isn’t a place to hide” Xavier looked up at me with weary eyes.

“I thought it was original. Thank you though.” He got out of the coffin, still towering me with his height.

“You lost.” A smirk appeared on my face and we both walked away to back out there.   

[Present, time skip]

I was wondering where Xavier had run to. He always abandons me for some random artistic calling of his. Thing appeared before me, updating me with some desperate news.

He handed me the note I had mention to give to Xavier.

Awn, Y/N Y/L/N has feelings for me.

Cute, though I know Thing wrote that.

Meet me in the cabin. 9 p.m.

Xavier

Weirdly, I felt my heart beat way faster than it normally should. I feel ill, not in a pleasant way, terrible ill way.

“I will end you, Thing.” He apologized immensely before pointing to something around the place.

He pointed the note, which looked like it was covered in some kind of dust. I did not look like dry paint or led dust. Ashes. How thoughtful.

He must know that I am suspicious of him; that I think he is the Hyde.

The darkness settled again, as if it was telling me that I was wrong; that my track was far from where I was headed. I pushed it away, snapped a glace at my clock only to find the time running fast. 8:51 p.m.

I have to go. Hopefully I make it out alive, and sane.

[Xavier’s art studio]

I knocked two times.

I’m hilarious, I’m aware.

“My favorite dead body has arrived!” He almost screamed as he opened the door.

He was wearing a red shirt, hair still damp and sweatpants low on his hips. As much as I hated to admit it, he had some sort of effect on me. I suddenly felt hot, uncomfortable in my own skin. I almost felt a smile creep up on my face.

“Tad bit dramatic.” I snarked, passing through him and the door. “I hope those weren’t you godmother’s ashes you sent.” His clean and fresh scent filled my head. Comforting.

He turned to me, closing the door behind him. He leaned on the door frame, crossed his thin long arms around his chest.

“Maybe, maybe not.” He looked at me dead in the eye. “What did you want to talk about?” The paintings surrounding me were dark and were all filled with the Hyde’s face. I had never actually been in here before but he caught me trying to get in.

“What is it of the Hyde that captivates you so, Xavier?” I turned around every wall to have a better look at his artistry.  

“I keep having dreams about it. The only way I can get it out is by drawing it, even if it ends up with me getting scratched by my own drawing.” I snapped around to look at him rubbing his neck. There were three long scratches along it. I had noticed.

“Do they hurt?” Is a question I never thought I would’ve asked in my entire life. He tilted his head, approached me softly. He towered me even more than I would’ve thought.

He bent down to whisper in my ear. “Why aren’t you asking if I did this to myself?” He bent a little; looking at me dead in the eye.

“You have no reason to do this to yourself. I know you.” His gaze softened.

“You don’t think I’m the Hyde, then?” Shoot. He figured it out.

He stayed right where he was and I did not give him the satisfaction of fear or yet defeat in my eyes.

“Prove me you're not the Hyde, Xavier. Tell me I’m wrong.” I almost pleated, blinking endlessly.

“How can I prove this to you, Y/N? You are stubborn yet so deep into your theories.”

“Where were you when Eugene was attacked? If you tell me, you were here, and not wondering in the middle of the forest, I will believe you and drop this.” I sighted. “Please, tell me you weren’t out there.”

He stared almost blankly into my eyes. He stood up straight, passed his hands into his long hair and turned back to face me. “Take my hands, seek your answers.”

I could tell he was disappointed that I had asked him that. I dropped my bag on the floor, approaching him as slowly as he was.

His touch felt comforting and warm against my feverish skin. My head pulled back as I felt myself going under.

…

I woke up only to find Xavier hold me in his lap, passing his fingers in my hair softly, still holding one of my hands with his.

“Did you get your answers?” I nodded, proving to myself that he was not the Hyde.

“I’m… I’m sorry I doubted you. I shouldn’t have. You were the only person loyal to me, maybe except Thing.” I sat up from his lap, looking at him, both of us sitting on the floor of his Art space.

“Don’t be. We aren’t ten anymore. You know I’m innocent and I would’ve never, on my godmother’s grave have hurt all of those people and I think you may know that better than anyone.” Thunder roared behind us, I still felt his hand on mine but I did not pull away.

His Adam’s apple bobbed down a couple of times, as he looked at me deeply in the eyes.

“What did Thing tell you, in the note?” I nervously swallowed, his presence making me feel like a hormonal teenager.

“He told me that you, missy, have the biggest crush on me but is way too shy and antisocial to tell me. Is that true?” He tilted his head a little, making his hair brush his cheek.

I felt my own heart rush out of my chest. Thing was not lying.

“Thing isn’t lying.” I whispered lowly, tilting my head down. He reached his hand to tilt it back towards him.

As we were still close, he bent down to reach my ear, breathed in, and out making shivers run down my back.

“I hope you liked my godmother’s ashes or shall I say charcoal powder in the reply note.” He paused. I smirked slightly against his fiery skin.

“I like you too, Y/N.” He didn’t pull away but tilted my head once again towards him; making me look at his lips, green eyes, soft yet strong features.

I breathed shakily and leaned towards him. I felt his lips brush my own before he softly placed his lips upon mine. Electricity ran through me, with the satisfying after burn which was my heart heating up.

The darkness I had felt slowly pulled away, leaving my soul, and leaving at a certain state of peace.

His hand was soft against the skin of my cheeks, his lips soft yet delicate and passionate felt incredible on mine. He pulled away only to do it again, and again, and again.

I pulled away after a few second, feeling my heart flying like a hummingbird. “Not so bad?”

“Not bad at all, incredible if I must.” His gaze lightened, as he pulled me to kiss him again.

Two teenagers kissing on the floor of an art studio, two childhood best friends turned into…

Lovers.  

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe x you

[cliobii]

the sillies ?? fitting for my first post here lol, they’re all I draw fr

this is from earlier this year, my style doesn’t rly look like this usually, I was trying out new things. maybe I’ll redraw this lol who knows

anyways hello!! if you know me from insta, hi yes this is the real thing, I’m the real guy. I’ve been on here TWICE before lol, I keep getting scared off of here oops, but I think I’m here to stay!

my name’s Clio and I use any pronouns! I’m an art teacher and the media coordinator for a nonprofit in arts education, but I draw silly fanart and original character designs for fun!!

I’m currently working on an original story/comic— working title is Little Red and the Twisted Tales. You can read updates about it on my Instagram for now, but I’m planning on sharing more on here (and maybe moving big lore stuff over here?? Idk)

so yeah !! it’s nice to meet you all :,) enjoy my silly art, this is just an archive for now, but I’ll upload new stuff too. bye !!

#nygmobblepot #riddlebird #gotham #gotham fox #fanart #my art #introduction #introducing myself

[gleamingyu]

anti-hero.

part II of the midnights series. inspired by taylor swift’s midnights. part I

pairing: music-producer!seungcheol x lawyer!fem!reader [exes-to-lovers]

genre: angst. fluff.

warnings: she/her pronouns for reader (but no specific physical characteristics). a bucketload of angst (i'm so sorry). light cursing. terrible knowledge of law stuff. so much crying yikes. miscommunication & misunderstandings. mentions of drinking and allusions to driving under the influence (do not do that ever!!). reader might seem a bit unlikeable in this chapter, but it's all part of the plot, okay?? she's trying her best. mentions of intimacy and sex (??), nothing graphic tho. slow burn. alternating povs. jihan as my lovely, beautiful, in love babies (yes they're a couple). some petnames (baby, babe). flashbacks are in italics. lower caps intended [if there’s anything i missed, please let me know!]

word count: approx. 8.1k (idk what happened)

notes: finally managed to work on my baby again. i'm sorry for the long wait but i had a lot of shit going on :/ thank you to everyone who showed love on the first part, i love each and every single on of you!! once again, likes, reblogs and comments are more than appreciated :)

summary: seungcheol wants to fix things; you want to avoid him at all costs. one thing is for sure, though. neither of you will have closure until you talk.

four months ago

the silence ringing inside seungcheol’s ears was even louder than the ambient noise of the restaurant he found himself in.

he genuinely couldn’t believe you were doing this to him again. the time was nearing 8 p.m., almost an hour later than when you were supposed to be here, and seungcheol was trying very hard to ignore the pitiful glances the waiters were not-so-subtly throwing him. he didn’t know what frustrated him more; the fact this was the seventh date you were clearly canceling on, or that you hadn’t updated him on your whereabouts in almost half an hour. if you weren’t going to show up, the least you could do is call and let seungcheol know you were gonna meet him at home.

home. funny how the word no longer brought a sense of peace in seungcheol’s heart.

just as he was about to get up and leave, seungcheol felt his phone buzz in the pocket of his pants, and his heart soared when he saw your name displayed on the screen. maybe you were going to make it after all, maybe you could still enjoy the nice evening he had planned, maybe…

“cheol… i’m so sorry.”

you were not coming.

seungcheol could tell from the apologetic tone in your voice. he didn’t even hear the next words that came from your end, whatever excuse you had to offer getting lost in the sound of his heart breaking. the grip he had on his phone was the only thing anchoring him in that moment, his eyes closed as he was trying to push down the tears that were threatening to spill out. he could hear you calling his name, are you there? but all he could offer was an “i’ll see you at home” before ending the call.

there was no part of you that was ready to face what awaited you on the other side of your apartment door.

the day hadn’t gone as you’d planned. you knew seungcheol had plans for the two of you that evening, so you had decided to wake up and go to the office earlier than usual in order to finish what you were working on in time for your date. but when you woke up that morning, you found seungcheol in the kitchen, diligently trying his best at making breakfast for the two of you. you melted at the sight of your boyfriend wearing your peach-colored apron – and nothing underneath but a pair of sweatpants – and you didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he oh-so-gleefully presented you with what could only be described as an admirable attempt at pancakes. moments like these were rare in your lives, with both of your hectic schedules and whatnot, so you sat down and enjoyed the warmth that came from the food, the sun coming in through the curtains, and seungcheol’s smile.

the sense of peace that came with spending the morning with seungcheol quickly dispersed once you arrived at the office and realized you were late, which gave your boss – mr. moon, a pathetic, greedy, and cruel excuse of a man who lived to make the lives of his employees a living hell – the perfect excuse to make you his target of the day. in addition to the case you were supposed to work on, mr. moon decided to dump on you stacks of paperwork that apparently needed to be taken care of by tonight, a task that normally a damn paralegal could take care of – no offense to paralegals.

normally you wouldn’t put up with this type of behavior. you weren’t raised to let people just walk all over you as they damn pleased. but around the office, there was one unspoken rule that everyone learned as soon as they started working here; ‘whatever mr. moon says, goes.’ besides, moon was the only person on the board of directors that could veto promotions in the firm, so until you could see the words senior associate inscribed under your name on the door of your office, you’d have to shut your mouth and take whatever was thrown at you with your head held high.

that isn’t to say that sometimes you wished mr. moon would get hit by a bus, ‘mean girls’ style. today had been one of those days, as the hours trickled by, closer and closer to when you should leave for your date with seungcheol, and yet mr. moon seemed to have a continuous stream of tasks that needed to be done, by you specifically. you realized you would never make it in time to see seungcheol, and so, tonight marked the seventh date you had to cancel because of work.

now, with the time on your phone reading 22:32, you were standing outside your apartment, bracing yourself for the talk you knew you were going to have with seungcheol. letting out a big exhale, you punched in the door code and let yourself in, the quietness of the apartment immediately enveloping you.

for a split second, you thought seungcheol might have gone to sleep already, but the faint sound of glass redirected you towards the kitchen, where you found said man standing by the kitchen island, nursing a glass of wine. you recognized the bottle mingyu had gifted him on his birthday that year, some fancy brand you’d never heard of before. as you stepped closer, the dim light of the kitchen finally illuminating you, seungcheol turned towards you, an inscrutable look on his face.

after four years of learning, knowing, loving seungcheol, you prided yourself in being able to discern what he was feeling at any given moment. but now, standing in front of him, you were scared to admit that you couldn’t read whatever feelings his eyes held. it made you feel uneasy, the way it seemed like he was looking through you, into you, and you wished you could come up with something to say to disturb the uncomfortable silence, but saying i’m sorry seemed redundant in that moment.

“a bit late, isn’t it?” seungcheol spoke up, and your heart clenched at the cold, almost mocking tone of his voice.

“i know, but i couldn’t get out faster. no matter what i said, my boss kept piling up my work and i just… i couldn’t. i’m so sorry… you know i wanted to come, more than anything. i really did,” you said, silently pleading that seungcheol would forgive you.

“i’m sure you did,” seungcheol gruffed, turning his attention back to the wine before him.

“cheol… don’t be like this, please…” you tried getting closer to him, but his body whipped towards you, his eyes narrowing at you.

“like what, exactly? angry? frustrated? sad? disappointed? i can be like that, actually, seeing as this is the seventh time in 3 months you’ve ditched me for work, apparently!” seungcheol spewed, making you take several steps back. your body tenses.

“‘apparently?’ what is that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know, it just seems very unlikely that you’d have to sometimes spend more than twelve hours at work. i mean, you’re a lawyer, aren’t you? surely, you should know everything about workplace laws,” seungcheol bit back. he’s never spoken to you like this before, ever, the mockery in his voice surely aimed to hurt you. you felt anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach, but you tried your best to stay calm, for the sake of both of you.

“seungcheol,” you said, and you couldn’t help feeling a twinge of satisfaction seeing his eyebrows raise in surprise after hearing you use his full name. “if you have something to say, i’d rather you just do it, instead of insinuating it.”

seungcheol fell quiet for a moment, glancing down at his feet. “i meant it when i said i was held back at work, cheol. why would i lie about that?” you continued.

“for the past two years that you’ve been working there, you know i never once met any of your coworkers? i’ve never even stepped foot into your office, for god’s sake! you’ve been to my studio countless of times, you know the people i’m closest to, i’ve invited you to all the events the label organizes, so i just can’t understand! i don’t understand why you’re dead-set on keeping me away from that part of your life! and it makes me think… it makes me feel like i’m not enough, like you’re ashamed of me–”

“that’s absolutely not true, cheol!” you jumped in. you couldn’t even entertain the thought of seungcheol feeling self-conscious because of you, when it was the furthest thing you wanted. “i think you’re the most talented person i know, the most passionate, hard-working, smart… beautiful… i could never be ashamed of you.”

unshed tears were clinging to both of your lashes, heavy breathing echoing around the kitchen. how could you let things get so bad?

“it made me think there was someone else,” seungcheol breathes out.

the air gets stuck in your throat, the tears brimming in your eyes finally sliding down your face. “cheol… how could… there never was anyone! i swear, all the nights i would come home late, it was because of my work! i swear, i would never… you’re the only person that’s ever on my mind…”

silence fell over you and seungcheol, the words thrown between you slowly sinking in. seungcheol sniffled, taking a seat at the round table in the middle of the kitchen; you wished you could go to him, gather him in your arms, even though he’s too big to fit in completely, but you knew that this was probably the last thing seungcheol wanted from you in that moment.

“why don’t you quit?”

seungcheol looked up to you, the sadness in his gaze so intense it made you look away, knowing you’re to blame for it. “you complain so much about it… the hours, the work, the boss, the people. why can’t you just leave?”

you breathed in, thinking over seungcheol’s words. “because… because i love doing what i do. i feel about law the way you feel about music. it’s just the environment that’s shitty. but it’s something… that’s mine. and the kind of opportunities i got at this firm… people just starting out, like me, don’t come by them very often usually.”

there was a pause as seungcheol mulled over your words. a part of you thought, hoped, that the way the conversation was going would lead to fixing things, but then seungcheol spoke up again, and you knew. there was no fixing, not anymore.

“i was yours, too. and i would’ve never chosen music over you.”

“you say that now, but if you were put in a situation where you had to choose, i don’t think you’d have as easy of a time as you say.”

“i guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

and that was the end of it.

three days after your unexpected reunion with seungcheol, you find yourself back at PLEDIS, ready to tackle jihoon’s case.

the morning had gone on normally enough, with people coming in to give their testimonies regarding jihoon, his work and their relationships with him. as expected, no one had come forward with any potentially harmful or negative remarks about him, everyone applauding him for his tireless dedication to the label and the artists he worked with, as well as marveling at his seemingly innate musical talent and creativity. this was no surprise to you; having known jihoon for almost as long as you’d known seungcheol, you witnessed first-hand jihoon’s mastery of his craft, on multiple occasions. and now, with all the information you had gathered in the past three hours since arriving at PLEDIS, you were starting to feel more confident about winning this lawsuit.

initially, you had no intention of taking on jihoon’s case. the previous weekend, when mr. moon had called you in, you arrived at the firm with your mind set on demanding a break. in the past months, you might as well have changed your home address to the office, seeing as you had been working non-stop on one case after another, pulling countless sleepless nights and taking on extra paperwork as favors to some of your coworkers. and after finding out what the case was actually about, you were even more adamant about turning it down. but all the excuses you offered mr. moon were effectively shut down, leaving you almost begging the man to pass the case to someone else.

before you could use your past relationship with the other in-house music producer working at PLEDIS as an excuse, mr. moon delivered the lowest of low blows. “you know, a high profile case like this could attract lots of new clients for the firm… and put you right on the track for senior associate.”

there was no use arguing anymore after that. moon knew how much you wanted that promotion, and you were honestly not surprised to see him using it against you in order to force you into doing whatever work he wanted you to. so you shut your mouth, took the case, and then went home and cried.

yes, you cried. moving on.

seeing seungcheol again, and unexpectedly so, definitely set you a few steps back in whatever emotional healing you had done in the past few months. and it definitely made you doubt your own abilities as a lawyer. if you couldn’t put aside your personal feelings and instead focus on helping a guy who was being wrongfully accused, were you even meant to practice the law? but you had worked far too hard and sacrificed far too much to let these thoughts cloud your judgment and confidence, so you told yourself that even if you had to be in seungcheol’s proximity for the foreseeable future, your main priority was winning this case. for jihoon, and for yourself.

of course, planning to ignore the obvious feelings you still harbored for your ex-boyfriend was way easier than actually ignoring them. now, as you were gathering your things to meet wonwoo in the conference room he was stationed in, you were also mentally preparing yourself for the off-chance that you would bump into seungcheol again. considering how your luck’s been going in the past few weeks, you think the chances are pretty high.

walking through the halls of PLEDIS felt oddly familiar, and yet strange at the same time. when you and seungcheol first started dating, the label was just starting out, carrying all its business in a measly two-story building on the outskirts of town. you felt a tiny knot forming at the back of your throat, thinking how crazy it was to have witnessed the immense growth that seungcheol went through as an artist and a person, and now, to be walking amongst the fruits of the labor of his work, and so many other people’s, who built the label from the ground up.

as you grow nearer to the conference room where wonwoo was most likely waiting for you, you suddenly catch a whiff of a scent all too familiar to you. musky notes of jasmine and bergamot fill your senses, and for a brief moment, you feel an almost supernatural pull urging you to follow the indistinguishable fragrance.

you know exactly where it leads. but now is not the time.

before you can push the door open and walk into the room, your phone’s screen lights up with a text message. ‘hey honey. can you call when you have the time? she’s not having a very good day…’

you sigh, before dialing your mom’s number.

four years ago

seungcheol always smelled divine.

over the years, you’d heard so many of your friends go on and on about their boyfriends’ perfumes, and how once they found the right scent, they could charm the pants off of them with just the smell of their cologne. to you, that idea seemed entirely far-fetched, because, after all, people aren’t dogs. who in their right mind would base their selection of a partner on something as feeble as smell? even more so, an artificial smell, that didn’t even last forever.

clearly, since a few weeks ago, you haven’t been in your right mind, because you swore there was nothing better in this world than the way seungcheol smelled.

all your friends kept telling you that they’d never seen you act like this before. the honeymoon phase of your relationship had hit you pretty hard, and you were completely smitten with cheol. his smile, his eyes, his dimples, his laugh, his hair, his charm… and his scent, you couldn’t get enough of him. and now, as you were making your way towards PLEDIS together, you couldn’t help but wish you could nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck and stay there forever.

it was your first time seeing where seungcheol worked. you had been wanting to see his studio ever since he had first told you about his job (and proved that he wasn’t one of those wannabe soundcloud rappers or whatever), but considering the label wasn’t exactly in a central location, getting there proved slightly difficult. not to mention that most days, your classes ran pretty late, and seungcheol shared his studio with jihoon, the other music producer at PLEDIS, which meant you couldn’t pop in whenever you had a window of free time, so as to not disturb them.

that night, however, seungcheol decided you deserved a break from your studies, and since your midterms were coming up, it might have been one of the last times you could afford to go out before getting swept up in the craziness of exam season. so after your last class of the day, seungcheol picked you up from campus and drove you outside of town, where PLEDIS stood.

“are you absolutely sure it’s alright for me to be here? i don’t want you to get in trouble with your… superiors, if that’s what you call them,” you said, walking up the stairs closely behind cheol.

“i already told you, it’s fine! besides, you’re not planning to steal any confidential information and spread it online, are you?” he teased, stopping in front of a door that you assumed was his studio.

“hmm, i don’t know… what makes you think i’m not secretly working for one of your competitors?”

seungcheol chuckled, shaking his head, before looking back at you. “oh, baby, you and i both know you like me too much to hurt me so,” he said, finally unlocking the door and letting you step inside.

well, he wasn’t wrong.

to most people, seungcheol and jihoon’s studio might not have looked like much. it held all the standard recording and mixing equipment one would expect to find there, along with personal touches from the boys, like pictures with their friends, some posters, a couple of cd racks, as well as a couch and two huge leather desk chairs. one the other side, inside the recording booth, you could see a keyboard, a couple of guitars, and a drum set, as well as some microphones, of course. to someone who’s never stepped foot in a recording studio before, like you, the place was amazing. and not just because cheol worked in there.

“i know it’s not a lot…” seungcheol mumbles, moving besides you, his arm stretched out in a way that said you could walk around.

your hands grazed the equipment on his desk, holding yourself back in fear of breaking something. “i like it, cheol. it’s homely, and cozy. definitely a good space to get those creative juices flowing,” you gave him a genuine smile, which you could tell instantly put him at ease from the way his shoulders visibly relaxed. he grinned at you, pulling up next to you by the sound board.

“you wanna see how the magic happens?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. you couldn’t help but groan, rolling your eyes.

“cheol, that was so cheesy… but yes, i do. please,” you said, giddy smiles taking over both of your faces.

“okay! come here,” he said, pulling you into his lap as he sat down in his desk chair. you felt your cheeks heat up at his actions, so natural and nonchalant, totally unaware of the effect he had on you. how could he be so oblivious, and quite literally torture you so? being so close to him now, his cologne starting to overpower your senses, you were sure to go dizzy.

“i’m gonna use one of the demos i have here, but for the record, i did not play anything for you while you were here, got it?” seungcheol said, opening an audio file on his laptop.

“yes, sir!” you gave him a wink, his ears turning red. cute.

for the next couple of minutes, seungcheol gives you a rundown on the soundboard, showing you what goes into recording and mixing a song, and even letting you play around with the different settings for pitch and autotune. even though it was all very interesting, nothing compared to just watching seungcheol’s excitement and passion while talking about music. every time your conversations would somehow turn towards music, his face would light up like a kid’s on christmas morning, his whole body animatedly gesturing while he rattled on about his favorite artists and composers, whatever new album came out that week, and even why a song with a good bass line is guaranteed to become a hit (yes, that was an actual discussion the two of you had once). seeing the obvious love he harbored for this art form made you ten times more enamored with him. you could already tell his passion and hard work were going to take him places, and you couldn’t wait to see it all.

“cheol? how did you know you wanted to do music?” you asked, turning to look up at your boyfriend.

“oh, wow, we’re going for the deep stuff, huh?” he laughed.

“you don’t have to share if you don’t want to, i was just curious… you always talk so passionately about it, i could just tell it means a lot to you.”

seungcheol sighed, leaning back into the chair. “it’s alright. i really don’t know how i got here, to be honest. i’ve always been interested in music, and found myself writing and experimenting with sound. one day, i just knew that i couldn’t really picture myself doing anything else. so i focused on that and worked my ass off, i guess.”

“well, clearly?! we’re sitting in your own studio! i’d say you’re doing pretty great,” you exclaimed, smiling at seungcheol’s blushing cheeks. “you should be proud of yourself, cheol, really.”

seungcheol can’t even look at you right now, too overcome with giddiness at the onslaught of compliments you’re suddenly throwing his way. instead, he shoves his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling a quiet ‘thanks.’

“is it hard to come up with new music?” you continue, playing with the strings of the hoodie he was wearing.

“hmm, it depends,” his voice is muffled, and you flinch at the ticklish feeling of his breath fanning on your neck. “there are days when i can put down a whole song and melody at once; sometimes it takes me weeks to be satisfied with a song i’m working on. but lately i’ve been feeling more… inspired than usual, so it’s been going pretty well.”

you turn your face towards him, a teasing smile stretching across your lips. “oh, really? how come?”

seungcheol returns your smile, his fingers pressing slightly harder into your skin where they sat on your waist. “just someone i met recently… they’re really nice and beautiful and funny and smart,” now it was your turn to grow shy, feeling your cheeks and chest grow warm at the implication of his words. “but i think jihoon is growing tired of all the ballads i’ve been writing.”

you both fall into a fit of giggles, your faces so impossibly close, your noses brush. “poor jihoon… whatever will he do?” you whisper, and before you can breathe in again, seungcheol’s lips fall against yours.

the air in your lungs dissipates in seconds. your entire body is ablaze, and you swear your hearing no longer registers the music playing from seungcheol’s laptop, instead becoming attuned to the sound of cheol’s soft sighs. you want this moment to last forever, to melt into his embrace, ingrain yourself into his very existence. his lips grow more and more fervent against yours, and you swear your mind goes blank, the only thought even going through your head in that moment a chant of his name. cheol, cheol, cheol, cheol…

later that night, once you’re home, getting ready for bed, you catch a whiff of seungcheol’s cologne again, the scents of his perfume imbued into your sweatshirt. you can’t help but smile like an idiot.

you didn’t wash that sweatshirt for a week after.

no matter how much seungcheol loved his friends, he couldn’t go on another second hearing jeonghan and joshua discuss whether they should choose lilies or hydrangeas for their wedding (because the good ol’ rose is too much of a cliche, apparently, according to joshua).

an exasperated sigh escaped him, his whole body slouching from the weight of the gloom he was carrying. jeonghan and joshua, who had been animatedly bantering over wedding preparations, suddenly go quiet, their heads snapping up to look at their friend. if this was a cartoon, they swore you would see a huge, gray cloud hanging above his head.

“alright, you gotta tell us what’s got you all pouty and gloomy, because this? this is just sad, cheol,” said joshua, gesturing at seungcheol’s crouched figure.

he sighed again, but straightened his back this time. the truth was, nothing particularly bad had happened today. but the day hadn’t gone as seungcheol had initially planned.

that morning, seungcheol had arrived at work determined to talk to you. seeing you again earlier that week had broken down the walls seungcheol had put up in the months following your breakup, and all the emotions he had tried pushing behind those walls – anger, sadness, frustration, yearning, love – were slowly, but surely, seeping back in. there was no point denying it anymore; seungcheol was not ready to let go just yet.

taking jihoon’s advice to heart, he decided to ‘grow some balls’ and initiate a discussion with you, one that you probably should’ve had before any of the shit that went down between the two of you could’ve gone down. seungcheol knew, deep down, that you were hiding something, and thought that once both of your cards were out on the table, you could either work on fixing what’s been broken, or you could both gain some closure and move on with your lives.

seungcheol was desperately hoping for the first option.

either way, whatever plans seungcheol had made were quickly put on hold when he arrived at his meeting and only found your colleague, jeon wonwoo, waiting for him in the conference room. he’d made himself look like an idiot, bluntly asking about your whereabouts, disappointment clear on his face at your lack of presence, which only got him an inscrutable look from wonwoo (who made a mental note to check in with you about this little outburst, for safety reasons). wonwoo hadn’t mentioned anything about you throughout the interview, which in retrospect, seungcheol realized, was more than normal, considering wonwoo probably had no idea that the two of you even dated before. if anyone at your firm would’ve known about your previous relationship, he imagines you wouldn’t even be here, working on this case. conflict of interest and all.

in the end, seungcheol had no idea whether you were even at PLEDIS at all, and didn’t even have time to ask around for you, having a number of recording sessions planned for the rest of the morning. it wasn’t until jeonghan called and invited him out for lunch with him and joshua, that seungcheol left his studio again. when his friends greeted him outside the restaurant they decided on, they held back from commenting on his sulky expression.

seungcheol didn’t tell them that he had half a mind to turn down their invitation when he heard where the couple wanted to meet. IL GRATO was your favorite place in town (you used to say because it was where seungcheol had taken you on your first date), and the restaurant held plenty of the many happy memories you and seungcheol had made over the years. obviously, seungcheol wasn’t particularly keen on revisiting them today, but he didn’t want to seem more pathetic than he already felt, so he shut up and pretended everything was fine.

that didn’t last long, evidently.

“why don’t you just call her? she’s obligated to answer, now that she’s working on jihoon’s situation, right? ask to schedule a meeting with her or something,” jeonghan said, sipping on his glass of prosecco.

“and what reason could i give her for a meeting? that jeon dude already asked me anything he could about jihoon, so i can’t use anything about the case,” seungcheol mumbled. “and saying i wanna discuss the clear unresolved feelings left between us is guaranteed to get her to hang up on me.”

joshua, who had been intently listening to seungcheol’s whines, suddenly perks up, grabbing seungcheol’s shoulder. “cheol, didn’t you mention jeon said he still had some interviews lined up after lunch time?”

seungcheol frowned. “yeah? what difference does it make?”

“well, dumbass, if Y/N was in fact at PLEDIS all this time, that means that she’s probably in one of the conference rooms on the same floor as him. and since most staff clock out at 5 p.m., i’d say you still have about half an hour to go back, find her, and talk to her. like you said you wanted,” joshua explained pointedly, giving seungcheol a look that screamed you have to do it or else i will hurt you.

joshua was right. how could he have been so stupid, to completely overlook what wonwoo had mentioned off-handedly at the end of their meeting. he hadn’t even considered the possibility that you and wonwoo had split up to cover more ground in collecting testimonies, and now he was at risk of completely missing his chance to see you, unless he hauled ass to PLEDIS immediately.

seungcheol shot up from his seat, quickly gathering his things and throwing his credit card on the table, before dashing for the front door. “you guys are the best! lunch is on me!” he shouted, before taking off running.

jeonghan and joshua look at each other, before bursting into giggles. jeonghan sighs, “i need them to resolve this issue before the wedding, really. i won’t be able to handle it if seungcheol mopes around during the whole ceremony.”

joshua cooed, rolling his eyes. “you simply can’t rush love, babe,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to his lover’s cheek.

jeonghan rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the spreadsheet full of wedding prep details laid out on the table. a mischievous glint gleamed in his eyes, as he turned to look at joshua. “so, my dear joshuji, how about lilies for the flower displays?”

“JEONGHAN, I SAID NO!”

nine months ago

when you and seungcheol arrived at IL GRATO, jeonghan and joshua were already inside, patiently waiting at the table they had booked for your party of four, wearing two oddly calm smiles on their faces.

to say you and seungcheol weren’t suspicious at all would be a lie.

jeonghan had called earlier that week to invite the two of you on a double date that weekend – which wasn’t unusual, since the four of you had been going on dates like these since forever  – but what had put you and seungcheol on edge was the ‘news’ jeonghan mentioned he and joshua had to share.

you and seungcheol had been going through a rough patch in the past two weeks, and this fact wasn’t unknown to your group of friends. the two of you were not the type to air out your dirty laundry, so for your friends to notice the growing tension between you meant that things were truly going badly. even though neither you or seungcheol had verbalized this to each other, you were both worried that tonight’s double date was just a cover up for an intervention, aimed to make you and seungcheol work through whatever it was bothering you two. jeonghan and joshua were seungcheol’s oldest and closest friends, and they never shied away from confronting seungcheol (and you, after you were welcomed into their friend group), especially when it came to his well-being, both physical and mental. you had been preparing your defense all week, just in case they decided to bring the situation up (and you also realized how desperately you needed a break from work).

after settling in and exchanging common pleasantries about your lives and work, the four of you put in your orders (jeonghan ordering the most expensive bottle of champagne on the menu, much to yours and seungcheol’s surprise), and after the waiter brought the drinks along, you decided to bite the bullet and ask the question that had been bothering you all week.

“so, you two said you had some news to share, right?”

jeonghan and joshua exchange a secretive look, and you only just notice the blush that seems to grace their faces. they looked like teenagers in love. you couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of envy.

“i guess there’s no reason to beat around the bush…” joshua said, looking again towards jeonghan.

“we’re getting married!” the other continues, leaning back into his seat to throw an arm around joshua, grinning from ear to ear.

silence falls over the table, as you and seungcheol drink in jeonghan’s revelation. you jump out of your seat, genuine excitement and joy overtaking you, as you walk around the table to hug and congratulate the two men. a string of high-pitched ‘oh my gods’ leave your lips, gaining the attention of a few other restaurant patrons, but you honestly couldn’t care less, too happy for your dear friends to pay attention to them.

as you make your way back to your seat, holding tightly onto joshua’s hand, you notice that seungcheol was eerily quiet, silently watching his friends, his eyes wide and unblinking. you lay a hand onto his arm, squeezing. “cheol… aren’t you going to say something?” you whisper.

that seems to snap him out of his daze, a gasp escaping him, before his hands come up to cover his face. you, joshua, and jeonghan exchange a concerned look, completely blindsided by seungcheol’s unexpected reaction, since he was as one of jeonghan and joshua’s loudest supporters (he had been betting on the two of them getting together since they were teenagers). but before either of you can say something else, seungcheol looks up, unshed tears swimming along his lash line.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words. “i just can’t… believe… that neither of you told me! you traitors! you were planning to get engaged and i just find out at the same time as everyone else?” seungcheol pouts, his dramatics leaving the rest of you in tears.

“hey! what is that supposed to mean?” you tease, trying to calm your laughter down.

“no offense, baby, but me and the boys? we have history,” seungcheol winks, before turning back to his friends. “which means i should have priority to all life-changing news in your lives!”

the table falls into laughter once again, before jeonghan and joshua proceed to give you and seungcheol all the details he was claiming they had been keeping away from him. the rest of the evening goes like this, drinks and food shared around, and you almost forget about whatever problems your own relationship has been having, too busy reveling in the love radiating from the couple in front of you.

that night, on the drive home, you and seungcheol fall into comfortable silence, a first in the past weeks. you don’t know if it’s the buzz from the alcohol you drank, or the crooning voice of whatever singer was playing on the radio, but you can’t help but look over to seungcheol’s side, your eyes glancing over the side of his face. he was so handsome, cheeks blushed and hair messy from tonight’s laughter. you wanted to lean over and run the tips of your fingers over the edges of his face, pour everything you couldn’t say into just one touch. please forgive me, just trust me…

“what’s the staring for?” seungcheol speaks, and you whip your head around, looking out the window on your side.

“ah, i wasn’t staring!” you mumble, feeling your face grow hot. “was just thinking… about tonight.”

he smiles, briefly glancing your way. “me too,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

a beat passes before seungcheol speaks up again. “when we get married, what would you want our wedding to be like?”

your heart swells when you realize he said ‘when’ instead of ‘if,’ but you can’t help but tease him a little bit. “‘when?’ i haven’t even said ‘yes’ yet, cheollie,” you smirk, turning your face towards him again.

evidently, seungcheol catches onto your little joke, but he plays into it. “emphasis on ‘yet’, baby. now answer the question!”

“okay, okay,” you chuckle. “well, i think i’d like something small… just our closest family and friends… maybe somewhere outside the city, like in the countryside, something like that,” you say decidedly, already daydreaming about all the possibilities.

“what about the beach? i think a beach wedding would be so cool… do you think your mom would let us have it at her beach house?” seungcheol says, an excited glimmer evident in his eyes.

he completely misses how your face falls at the mention of your mother, but you quickly mask it by nonchalantly agreeing with him. “i don’t see why not, she would probably love that…”

the rest of the drive goes by fast, the two of you bantering over silly wedding things like flowers, color palettes, and music selection (obviously), before you finally arrive home. inside, you both move lazily, drunk on love – or the leftover champagne in your systems – slowly undressing, stealing kisses, exchanging giggles and tantalizing looks… for the first time in weeks, you feel a sense of peace cover you, a quiet voice in the back of your mind assuring you that everything was going to be alright, and you embrace the feeling, falling into seungcheol as he whispers sweet nothings into your ears.

just as you’re about to fall into bed, your phone starts ringing from the floor of the bedroom, and at first you ignore it, too caught up in the feeling of seungcheol’s mouth against you, but the noise is insistent, and cheol detaches from you with a groan, urging you to see who’s bothering you in the middle of the night.

seungcheol can’t see the name on your screen, but when you tell him it’s your mom, he motions for you to take the call – she wouldn’t call this late unless there was an emergency, after all – but much to his surprise, you shuffle to find a shirt to put on, before you leave the room to take the call. from the bedroom, he can only hear muffled snippets of your conversation, and the tone of your voice is too ambiguous for him to guess how the talk is going.

when you come back, he doesn’t bring up the fact that you’d never gone to another room to take a call before. ever.

as soon as the clock on the wall reads 5 p.m., you bring the final interview you had scheduled for the day to an end, and as you say your goodbyes to the woman from the marketing department, wonwoo walks into the conference room, struggling to balance a stack of papers in his hands. you rush towards him, picking up part of the papers.

“woah, are these all the testimonies from your part of the staff?” you question, marveling at the size of the stack wonwoo brought in.

“yeah, crazy, isn’t it? i still can’t believe so many people came forward for this guy,” wonwoo replies, setting down his shoulder bag on the table. his shoulders seem tense, a whole day sitting at a desk clearly taking a toll on him.

“well, he’s clearly appreciated. everyone who i talked with only had good things to say about him,” you say nonchalantly, flicking through the papers, trying to pretend like you weren’t already aware of jihoon’s stellar reputation. each piece of paper seemed to be a reformulation of what the previous person mentioned, everybody mentioning similar qualities and compliments regarding him.

after you and wonwoo go over the information you both collected today, making a game plan for the next steps that needed to be taken, you both gather your things to finally go home for the day, exhaustion setting in. although the day hadn’t been particularly stressful, the possibility of bumping into seungcheol had caused you much more anxiety than usual, and you honestly couldn’t wait to get out of here and finally be able to breathe normally.

as you wait for the elevator – which seems to be taking its sweet time, moving in slow motion to the seventh floor – you hear wonwoo mumble under his breath, before he lets out an “oh, fucking hell.” ever the proper gentleman, he catches himself, and swiftly apologizes for his choice of words.

you chuckle, waving your hand to dismiss his unnecessary apology. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m missing some documents… i think i left them in the room i was in this morning, i’ll go after them. you go ahead and get going, i don’t want to hold you back any longer,” he explains, already turning around to head for the conference room.

“are you sure? i don’t mind wa–”

“i’m sure! go, you deserve to rest,” he shouts, disappearing around the corner of the hallway.

you sigh, shaking your head, but appreciating the gesture nevertheless. the elevator bell dings, and the doors open to reveal an empty cabin. you breathe out a sigh of relief, thankful for the silence. you press the button for the ground floor, and close your eyes, leaning against the back wall of the elevator, hoping to ease the sting that came from staring into a computer screen for a whole day.

your peace and quiet is short-lived however, as the elevator only manages to go down to the sixth floor before stopping again. you sigh, preparing yourself for the onslaught of tired employees who were most likely rushing to get home as well. however, when you open your eyes, there’s only one other pair staring into yours, and you feel all the air inside your lungs dissipating, leaving you breathless.

seungcheol is standing in front of you, wearing an equally speechless look on his face. the two of you stare at each other, almost as if you’re scared to move, in fear of disrupting the karmic force that brought this moment upon you even more. you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole, feeling completely unprepared for this situation. you’d thought you were finally out of the woods, that you’d be able to go home in peace and not think about the case, about cheol, about anything anymore, at least for tonight.

clearly, the universe had other plans for you.

seungcheol seems to snap out of his daze when the doors of the elevator start to close again, his arm shooting out to stop them and finally stepping inside. as the doors close behind him and the elevator resumes its course downwards, you suddenly feel like the cabin is ten times smaller than it was a few moments ago, your body instinctively moving to one of the corners of the elevator. seungcheol naturally takes over the corner opposite from you, and you can feel his eyes on you with every step he takes.

you can’t fucking breathe, and you can’t believe he still has such a hold over your body.

“hi.”

“hi.”

you both say it at the same time, and under different circumstances, the two of you might’ve erupted in giggles at the coincidence. in this moment, however, the tension between you is so palpable, it’s almost constricting.

“how’s jihoon’s case going?” seungcheol asks, and you feel almost grateful for him taking the initiative to fill the silence.

“it’s good, yeah. we had a productive day, gathered a lot of info,” you say, clearing your throat. why were you being so goddamn awkward?

seungcheol nods, humming, silence filling the space once again. you dared to sneak a glance in his direction, noticing his furrowed brows and pursed mouth. four months could not erase everything you learned about cheol in four years, and you immediately recognized his ‘i’m trying to find the right words’ look. you sigh, knowing exactly what’s inevitably coming, so you decide to put seungcheol out of his misery.

“seungcheol,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. your eyes meet in the quiet of the elevator. “just ask me. just ask me what’s bothering you. at this point, should we even beat around the bush with each other anymore?”

seungcheol opens his mouth, then decides against it. he shakes his head, sighing, before looking back at you. “i’m not ready to let go yet,” he murmurs.

your voice trembles as you try to keep your tears at bay. “cheol… why are you doing this? i mean, why are you doing this to yourself?! things haven’t been working out between us for months, and i– i was terrible to you! you should let me go, why can’t you just… leave me alone?”

seungcheol’s eyes widen, an almost crazed glint appearing behind them. “leave– leave you alone? are you fucking kidding me?” his voice rises in volume, as he takes a few steps closer. “i can’t leave you alone, because i gave you four years of my fucking life, yeah? and in those years i learned all there is to know about you. unless everything you’ve ever told me was just an act, i’ve learned how to tell when you’re lying, and i’ve learned how to tell when you’re struggling, and you know what? you’re doing both right now!”

your hands start shaking, frustration bubbling inside your chest. “i don’t need you looking out for me, alright? i can take care of myself! and i’m fine, for your information!”

“bullshit! you’re not fine, and you know why? because for three years, everything was perfectly fine with us, and then all of a sudden last year, something happened, yeah? i don’t know what exactly, because you won’t fucking tell me, but something happened that made you squeamish around me, distant, paranoid, and– and careless! you stopped caring about me, about us!”

“i didn’t stop caring!”  you croaked, your throat raw from holding back your tears. seungcheol’s eyes softened slightly at the sight of your tears finally let loose on your cheeks. “i just… i…”

seungcheol closes the last of the distance between you, standing right in front of you now. “Y/N… baby… if you’re in some sort of trouble, please… just tell me. there’s nothing you could say that could scare me or drive me away. i know you can take care of yourself, but you don’t have to! please, just… no more lies, please…”

your eyes meet his, the sincerity and love swimming in them bringing even more tears to your eyes. you could just tell him right now, let everything that’s been weighing down on you for the past year spill out all at once… but you can’t. you would never forgive yourself to come in between seungcheol and his work, his dreams… your burdens couldn’t be his burdens. you just can’t allow it.

“cheol… i ca–”

“okay, i need you to take five steps away from her, or i will physically remove you, hyung. no matter that you are older and stronger than me,” comes a voice from your right. in your fight-induced stupor, neither you nor seungcheol had realized that the elevator had reached the ground floor, the doors opening to reveal one of your favorite people on earth.

thank god for boo seungkwan.

#📁 lexie.works #🌙 midnights #choi seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #svt au

[catboybiologist]

I'm trans! Here's a way-too-long ramble on my internal thoughts on that!

My other posts on this:

https://www.tumblr.com/catboybiologist/725852054829023232/im-going-to-document-some-things-about-my?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/catboybiologist/725851397783011328/the-short-answer-is-no-but-im-gonna-have-a?source=share

So yay I’m trans! Which like, is neither unexpected nor abnormal for the community I’ve fostered here, so I’m guessing most of y’all’s reactions is just a “hey cool”. But, you see the online side of me, not the irl side, so there’s still a lot of thoughts to sort out on my end. So I’m dumping a lot of thoughts here to sort all that out. And hoooly shit, it got very long, and I still feel like I have more to say… but yeah. If you wanna hear some perspectives on my relation to gender, transness, and femboy culture, read on!

I guess the best way I can think to style this is as an interview with an imaginary third person, sooo…. Bold text is questions I can imagine people having LOL

So what’s my own personal relationship with the term femboy, catboy, and gendered terminology in general? Is the name of your accounts gonna change?

Short answer, no. I like the name CatboyBiologist. “Catboy” itself is a term that is completely untethered from gender at this point to me. Tbqh, the “cat” part feels more wrong than the boy part- as time goes on, I’ve generally ditched the cat ears for most of my outfits as I take them a bit more seriously. Maybe that’ll change when my transition actually starts, but for now, CatboyBiologist stays, and the femboy related language stays in all of my own past posts (keyword, past- more on that in a bit).

I’m not gonna be updating my approach to pronouns. Any pronouns do just fine, I’m sending a vibe into the world and pronouns are my feedback as to what other people interpret that vibe is. Default to they/them if you don’t know what to do with that.

I will be updating my pinned post to link all of these posts, but mostly copy/paste the information from before. That might take a moment cuz I’m lazy, tbh.

And let’s get something else out of the way.

I’m not socially transitioning yet, and probably won’t for a while.

Which, I think leads to a lot of follow up:

Well, why not?

I present fully male and masculine on a day to day basis, and look the part too. Part of it is just this looks insecurity. The mask stays on in my pictures for a reason. Beyond just facial hair (which grows aggressively on me and always shows some shadow), my face looks pretty masculine overall. It takes time to look the way I do in my posts. I wanna give my face and body some time to change so I can look more femme in more casual ways before I present it to the world.

Beyond that, I’m also just worried about being “accepted” as femme straight off the bat. Implicitly, I know this will be easier if I already have some small amounts of physical feminization down my belt.

There’s two main environments that worry me: family, and professionally. Family is a weird hot mess grey area that is too personal to talk about here, but the professional atmosphere is certainly going to be a bit… weird. I live in an accepting geographic region, and around people who are very outspokenly trans supportive…. But most of whom are cishet and simply don’t have a lot of experience seeing or working around trans people. I’m more afraid of being seen as “trans first, biologist second” as far as my career is concerned, than I am about outright transphobia. I know this will never fully go away, and given that I’m 6’2”, I’ll probably never “fully” pass- but I’d at least like people to implicitly read my as femme on a gut level before I start changing how I present that way. One thing my irl femboy experience has shown me is that, even if people can “clock” you intellectually, the way their gut instinct reads you affects whether they treat you as masc or femme. I hope that makes sense on some level. Of course its always going to be an awkward shift, but I hope some time on HRT will make it less awkward.

I’ve come out to one person that doesn’t know about this online persona, or the depths of my queerness. They straight up told me they were shocked. They were incredibly supportive, but they told me they didn’t see it coming at all. And they already knew that I “crossdressed occasionally”. So that’s kinda what I’m working with here.

Essentially, I’m not actually truly “transitioning” in a real sense yet. More than that, I feel like I’m getting the ball rolling. If there’s anything I learned in my research, it’s that HRT takes a while, much longer than anyone expects (suppressing my rant about how the media cherrypicks people in early transition for trans representation and the effect that has on public perception). Two years is often cited as the “end” point, but based on both scientific and anecdotal accounts, that is wildly untrue and variable. I also know that the first changes onset quickly (skin and mood, most notably), but that overall body shape changes sometimes take a VERY long time to start and progress. So to be quite honest, I barely feel like I’m transitioning yet, I’m just laying groundwork for the future.

So yeah. I’m gonna be boymoding for a bit. Possibly a year or more. Even for the people who know, I’ve still asked them to address me as he/him or they/them, and use my masculine name for now (haven’t even really decided on a femme name yet, although I have ideas [open to suggestions as well]).

Wait, so why address it online at all?

Put simply, honesty. I’m displaying a lot of selfies and experimentation with my look here, and I want to make it abundantly clear what I’m doing to have an effect on that. People have asked me if I’m on HRT in comments before, and like, I’m not gonna lie about that. Might as well also make a shitpost, a data gathering post, and a too-long ramble about it as well (which you’re reading now!).

There are a LOT of body image issues in femboy spaces (and trans spaces too!), often among very young people. While I have no issue with people on HRT continuing to call themselves a femboy (more on that in a bit), I do think transparency on that matter is helpful for those body image issues.

So to make it abundantly clear: all of my selfies and pictures that I’m labeling and tagging as “femboy” are pre-HRT. In the future, everything I tag with “trans” is post-HRT. I still got 1-2 weeks before actually starting, and I’m still going to use the femboy tag for any outfits I post during that time. The moment an estradiol pill hits my mouth, though, new pics will use trans tags.

Posts that relate to discussion of the interplay of the communities, and how I view myself within them, I’ll tag with both.

Which leads to another follow up question. This one isn’t about me specifically, but it’s my hot take about a certain brand of trans discourse I’ve seen around (mostly on reddit tbh):

Why would someone who knows they’re mtf trans willingly call themselves a femboy and/or request people to “misgender” them?

So this is actually gonna be striking a nerve with me, and I know I’m gonna kinda be strawmanning here by arguing against the ghost of reddit comments past. I’m not gonna try to dig any of them up in the internet archive, but they are sentiments I’ve seen multiple times.

I’ve seen this question almost word for word in the comments of trans subreddits multiple times. Imma be blunt, and it’s maybe gonna sound a little mean. If this thought is going through your head, you’re likely way more sensitive and particular about labels than most people. And that’s okay! Ask people to address you how you want, you deserve that respect! But the real answer to this question is that many people simply don’t mind being called whatever label is most useful or familiar to themselves in various contexts.

The moment that it becomes completely unacceptable is when someone does actually change their pronouns, name, presentation, etc, and people still address them as “male” or “femboy”. That is completely the fuck out of line, and if you don’t agree, fuck off.

Why does this strike a little bit of a nerve with me? Well, the “conclusion” I saw reached in these trans spaces multiple times when the subject was brought up was annoying as hell. That conclusion was that the only or primary reason that people labeled themselves a femboy, even while on HRT… was to sell their onlyfans. My fucking god, seriously? This is just conservative rhetoric. Luckily, on tumblr, it seems that people are a lot more accepting towards people using whatever language they like to describe themselves, which I’ve enjoyed a lot.

I’ve also had a lot of hate towards “fencesitting” directed at me on reddit, from trans people, for calling myself a femboy. I can’t remember it verbatim, but I very distinctly recall getting a DM that went something like “I fucking hate femboys, just transition already. You’re making us (transfemmes) look bad.” So yeah. Bit of a sore spot.

Yadda yadda yadda the personal journey shit

If I can be real for a moment…. In an ideal world, I would still want to be a part time femboy. Even moreso than the sheer utility of it all (eg, enjoy cis male privilege when I want, but still get treated more femme in certain contexts), it feels almost more profound to fuck with gender norms without sitting on one side of the gender line or another. But I can’t really ignore what I’ve described as my “mental resting state”- a baseline crackle of dysphoria that fills the space in my head when there’s nothing else to fill it. It’s easily distracted, but its always there, and I can’t imagine living my life that way anymore.

I’ve pretty much known I was trans since I was about 12, and had a realization that puberty was just starting to hit me, and I hated it. I suppressed it deeply, for many, many reasons that I don’t think I want to share here. But it made a lot of other mental health struggles in my life a lot worse, even if I didn’t consciously acknowledge that’s what was happening. By the time I was willing to consciously acknowledge it, I realized that my dysphoria wasn’t so bad as to dive in right away. But, I made moves to stabilize my life overall, which have been massively beneficial to me in other ways as well.

During the pandemic, I found myself living alone for the first time ever. So during the pandemic, in one last ditch effort to try to convince myself I wasn’t trans, I delved into femboy aesthetics to try and “just be a feminine man”.

That failed.

So yeah, here I am. I have a wonderful queer community both irl and online, a meagre but stable income, health insurance that has great coverage for trans care, and accepting people around me in my life. It’s long overdue. Maybe I’ll beat myself up for waiting so long and masculinizing so much as a result, but I don’t think I really could have done it any other way.

This all said, I don’t actually really consider myself a woman yet. I’m sure many of you are aware of two different ways transfemmes view themselves(and trans people in general, but using a transfemme perspective here):

-Some view themselves as having always been girls or women, but took some time to realize it and make their body more comfortable for themselves with that information.

-Others view themselves as boys or men who made efforts to become women later.

I fall strongly in the second line of thinking for myself. For my own personal experiences, even though I have felt dysphoria for a long time, I don’t really think I’m “actually” a woman yet. I don’t know what my identity as a woman looks like yet. But I deeply want to discover and create who that person is, and there’s no way to do that without transitioning.

B but… BASIC BIOLOGY!!!!!

How many biology degrees do you have? I got a BS and an MS, and I’m working on my PhD. I’m sure you’ve brought a similar level of expertise to this discussion.

But seriously, I could genuinely write an entire fucking essay about how studying biology has influenced my views on this subject, but honestly, that’s an entirely different topic. But tl;dr is that bioessentialism is brainrot, and if someone tries to use essentialist language to “justify” someone’s transness (or gender in general)… well, I think they’re wrong. Plain and simple. We don’t say someone isn’t “really able to see” if they put glasses in front of their eyes.

I’m stopping myself before I write more here, because this warrants another post or even a fucking video essay, to be quite honest. But yeah. Biology based.

Conclusion?

Uhhhh… in conclusion, I’m not particular about language or pronouns you use for me, I’m making posts about it anyways to ensure honesty associated with my selfies, if you’re transphobic jump of the tallest bridge you can find. I think that about covers it.

#femboy #transitioning #trans #transgender #mtf #cross dressing

[tainbocuailnge]

German Dark Knight quests

This is an English translation of the German script for the level 45 and 50 dark knight quests (and some extra bits at the end), meant as a supplement to the translation of the Japanese script found in this and this post showcasing the large differences between Japanese and English Fray’s characterisation. Since haillenarte mentioned in their posts that the German script usually stays closer to the Japanese script than the English script does, and I can’t read Japanese but can read German, I decided to check out the German version and translate it for comparison.

UPDATE: Please check out my translation website! I have the entire dark knight questline translated on there, including an updated translation of what’s in this post, as well as many other scenes from the rest of the game.

Since the English script is already in the other posts I won’t put it in here too, but I will separate it into the same blocks as the other posts for ease of comparison. I’m also sticking to gender neutral pronouns for the WoL, though German is a highly gendered language so all the screenshots of the German script will reflect me playing as a male au ra. It’s been a hot minute since I formally studied German so if you spot any glaring mistakes by all means correct me!

Level 45 quest - What must be said

Fray: It’s your life and it ends again every minute... I’ve been thinking again about what you told me about the voice. Fray: Someone is trying to get through to you. Someone who needs your protection. But we don’t know any more. Fray: We have to perform another ritual as soon as possible. Maybe that will give us a clue about who the voice belongs to. Fray: After all, the voice resonates within your heart. Do you have someone you want to protect? More than anyone else? Fray: ...Sorry. I don’t feel very well lately... I’m alright. I’m just a bit tired. Fray: So, when you’re ready, we’ll perform the next ritual. Fray: Show me what you’ve learned. I’ll wait for you at Moraby Drydocks.

Fray: Do you remember? The sea... Fray: I told you before that I went on a journey once. With someone who... A terrible danger awaited us at sea. Fray: I wanted to stop them. But we’d already drifted too far apart. There was no stopping them from getting on that damn boat. Fray: It was like I was dying. They were the person I wanted to protect more than anything in the world. But my words didn't get through to them. That's why I'm...

???: What’s that? Isn’t the Maelstrom there to help us? ...I’m in need, goddammit! Styrnlona: The Maelstrom isn’t responsible for that. You should turn to the Yellowjackets when reporting something like stolen wares. Demanding dealer: The Yellowjackets... Before they get around to my case my newborn son will be an experienced sailor! Perhaps even admiral! Styrnlona: Hey, you! Aren’t you [your rank at the Maelstrom] [Name]?

Strynlona: You did us all a great favour when you defeated the primal Leviathan. The citizens of Limsa Lominsa are forever grateful. Demanding dealer: Whaaaat? There’s a real hero standing before me! Demanding dealer: You’re a godsend. I’m in a real bind and need help. Demanding dealer: A nasty Qiqirn has stolen all my wares! [cry] What do I tell my clients? [sob] I’m going to lose my good name as trader! [sniff] Fray: Do you remember what I told you last time? You can’t help everyone. You can’t carry all the world’s suffering on your shoulders. Fray: The Yellowjackets will take on his case soon enough. You should worry about your training as a dark knight instead and find a worthy opponent. There’s more important things at stake... Demanding dealer: Don’t leave me high and dry! If you don’t help me, no-one will!

>Yes, or nobody will help him.

Demanding dealer: You’re truly a hero! Thank you! Demanding dealer: The Qiqirn that stole my wares has to be some kind of leader or chief... It’s bigger and stronger than the others.

>No, I can’t help everyone.

Demanding dealer: But... didn’t you just say you were looking for worthy opponents? Demanding dealer: The Qiqirn that stole my wares is a real big guy! Bigger and stronger than the others. A leader or chief, I would say.

Demanding dealer: I saw it walking towards the salt strand, the Qiqirn have a camp there. Please bring my wares back! Fray: It always ends like this... When nobody wants to help, the heroes have to go... You'll never become a dark knight like this.

Fray: Cut that thieving Qiqirn down to size. Doesn’t matter how pathetically it begs for mercy. It shouldn’t have stolen the merchant’s wares... Fray: We’ll use the opportunity to prepare the next ritual. Show me everything you’ve learned as a dark knight.

[Duty battle dialogue] Fray the Dark: There’s quite a lot of them... This’ll be a right bloodbath. Fray the Dark: Now we just need to get the wares! Fray the Dark: The wares are definitely in this chest...

Fray: We... have the wares... [groan] Bring them to the merchant... [huff] Fray: Me? I’m just a bit... exhausted... [groan]. Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you... Fray: Bring it to an end...

Demanding dealer: Hello, hero! Do you have my wares? Demanding dealer: Yes, that’s the stuff! Thank you, thank you. Let’s see if everything is there. Demanding dealer: Nooooo! In llymlaen’s name, I can’t sell these like this! Demanding dealer: Those Qiqirn put their dirty hands all over everything! I can’t offer this to my customers! Or even worse, they’ll demand a discount! Demanding dealer: What should i do? It’s the end for me! I’m ruined! I can say goodbye to that vacation in Costa del Sol... Demanding dealer: I know! I’ve got a hero standing right in front of me! You’ll deliver me new wares in a snap! Demanding dealer: The skin of a dangerous monster... A treasure from a trap-filled ruin... A lock of hair from a primal...

Fray: ENOUGH!! Fray: Does it ever end? Is Eorzea populated entirely by children? Can nobody do anything on their own anymore? Does everyone have to keep begging the heroes for help? Fray: [Name] is also just a [your race]! With their own feelings and interests. Axe blades and thunder magic also hurt them! Nobody thinks about that, huh? Fray: We keep fighting for other people... Like back then, at open sea, against that watery primal... Fray: “We’re not chosen! Let the chosen one fight!” - Pah, you’re just hiding behind those words! What are you doing for Eorzea anyway? Fray: If you lot didn’t keep bringing in your troublesome business [Name] would’ve long since been a more experienced dark knight! Ugh, for real!

Demanding dealer: Who just blows their lid like that? I’m terribly sorry, adventurer... Styrnlona: What the... [Maelstrom rank] [Name], your anger isn’t entirely unfounded, but... Styrnlona: ...A short walk sounds like the right thing to cool your head. Have a good day.

Fray: That just had to be said. Don’t you think? Fray: Seriously, such an ungrateful lot...

>All that matters is the voice.

Fray: Right, the voice. You can’t ignore it. That would mean ignoring your own existence. Fray: I even know who the voice belongs to... Fray: But I can’t tell you who it is. You have to find out yourself. Fray: Well, let’s continue. Stick your hand out...

>I want to become a real dark knight as soon as possible.

Fray: You’re already a real dark knight, [Name]. The dark power, that’s real. Fray: But remember what I told you in the Brume? That you have to face your feelings if you want to walk the path of the dark knight - if you want to survive it? Fray: You’re not at the goal yet. There’s a place in your heart you still haven’t reached. But the voice will help you with that. Fray: Well, let’s continue. Stick your hand out...

>You’re completely right. It had to be said.

[Fray makes a surprised gesture] Fray: You also think I’m right? That’s great, [Name]! Fray: I know it’s not in your nature to lash out like that. But you can rest easy leaving that to me. Fray: I’m glad you’re finally realizing it... Fray: More important right now is that you find out who the voice belongs to. And what its true meaning is. Stick your hand out...

???: The weak call for you, [Name]. As they always do. ???: They call, they scream, they wail... So loud that you can’t hear your own voice... The pain... The anger... The sadness... Nobody wants to hear about those. ???: But you. You will listen to it. ???: You hear my prayers.

Fray: [Name]. Fray: You heard the voice, right? Fray: You don’t have to tell me what you heard. But I’ll ask you one thing: Are you prepared to give up everything to answer that voice? Fray: Your status, your fame, your fortune - everything? Only after losing everything will we have the freedom to do everything. If you’re willing to do that, then... come with me! Leave this Eorzea! Fray: Here you will never be able to fulfil your purpose. To be truly free. Here you will forever have to concern yourself with others. But if you turn your back on Eorzea - you can go your own way. Fray: You don’t have to answer right now. Meet me at the usual place when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you.

Level 50 quest - The knights’ core

Fray: [Name]... There you are again. I was already expecting you. Fray: ...Ugh... We don't have much time left. We have to travel again soon... Or it'll be too late. Fray: Too late for you... You don't understand it yet, but I want to help you. I'm starting to doubt whether you're really prepared... But we'll see. Fray: We'll meet at the Gates of Judgement. Call my name and I'll come.

???: That voice! Isn't that [Sir/Lady] [Name]? The hero of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn? Brave knight: Forgive me. I belong to Lord Drillemont's troops from Whitebrim Fort. Everyone in my regiment knows your name. Brave knight: It can't be a coincidence that I meet you here. It's the Fury's work! She wants you to help us. Nervous knight: A bit to the south from here lives a crowd of Gigas. They've been showing themselves in the region increasingly often and frequently raid caravans. It’s likely they intend to expand their territory. Nervous knight: The troops at Whitebrim Fort are well armed, but the Gigas are numerous and better suited to the cold than us. Nervous knight: They're better organised than other Gigas too. If we can disable their commander their advances will likely cease for now. Brave knight: Indeed. Our commander underestimates the danger and refuses to send troops. Please, won't you help us and hunt down the Gigas commander? Coeus the Loudmouthed, they call the beast. Then our problems will be solved.

Durendaire knights: Please help us. Durendaire knights: What could be more important? Please help us! Nervous knight: Thank you! You’re a hero! Brave knight: We believe we have a trail. Follow us!

Fray: That’s enough.... That’s.... ENOUGH!!!

Brave knight: That’s the place. We believe Coeus the Loudmouthed will come through the pass. Did I mention he’s always accompanied by his two bodyguards? They of course also have to be defeated. Brave knight: Keep watch a little further down the pass. The leader of the Gigas won’t be long. May the Fury preserve you!

Brave knight: You’ve defeated the Gigas’ leader! Thank Halone and you! Brave knight: That should stop their advance. We can easily deal with the few remaining unorganised Gigas. And if not, we know who we can ask. Brave knight: You have our thanks. We will inform Lord Drillemont of your deeds. Brave knight: And our comrades will hear of your heroic deeds too! They’ll all look up to you, if they don’t already. Brave knight: The troops at Whitebrim Fort can use any boost to morale they can get. Your willingness to help us will bring new courage. Brave knight: That reminds me... Could you perhaps autograph my shield? My name is...

???: March, march! Return to base immediately! Brave knight: What happened? Why the rush? Capable knight: Orders from above. Lord Drillemont heard that we’re working with [Name] and ordered us to return immediately. With them in custody, in fact. Brave knight: In custody? What’s the meaning of this? Capable knight: There have been... accusations. People are saying they’ve been spotted in the Brume... speaking with the corpse of a convicted heretic. Capable knight: I don’t believe it of course, but we both know how serious such accusations are.

Brave knight: Surely someone is trying to play us for fools... I mean, speaking with a corpse? Do they take us for idiots? Capable knight: Have you heard the accusations, [Sir/Lady]? They... have a certain weight, since they come from Temple Knights. Capable knight: It might be necessary... Ah, purely as a formality of course... To ask you to remove your weapon.

Fray: Ha, ha! “Remove my weapon”? After what happened in Ul’dah? Are they out of their minds?

Fray: Tomorrow will be the best day in your life, [Name]. Your breakfast will taste better than any meal you’ve ever had. Fray: That is, when you finally manage to look the truth in the eye. [Name], get ready for the evacuation of your soul...

Fray: You know already. You know whose voice speaks in your heart. You know who has to shoulder more suffering than anyone else in the world... You know who you have to save! Fray: Don’t act so surprised. Of course Fray was stone dead, right from the start. But you wanted it to be different. Fray: A sword, a crystal... All that was missing was a teacher. So you made yourself one. Fray: The soul crystal of the Dark Knight, in which all his experiences were stored. Your aether and repressed feelings... The pain that you locked deep inside your heart... All that suffering that you have to endure as a hero.... The fear that the Champion of Eorzea is not allowed to show... Those are the ingredients from which you made a new Fray. Fray: A mentor who could show you the feelings slumbering in your heart. Who could express these feelings for you, like you never could. Fray: You still don’t want to believe it, but you can’t deny it. You can’t deny what we have achieved. Fray: Haven’t I been good to you? I’ve given you a choice that none of your so-called friends ever gave you. Your so-called friends in the Scions or the Eorzean Alliance. Fray: The choice to say no. To not help. To think of yourself. To save yourself. I’ve given your innermost desire to say no a voice, and made sure you heard it too. Fray: Open your eyes! Look at me! Are you seeing it now? I... am you!

[Fray takes on your name] [Name]: Everything that happened until now was your story... [Name]: ...And everything that happens from now on is mine!

[Duty battle dialogue] Dark shadow: Fight me! As hard as you can! You can’t kill me, no matter how hard you try. Dark shadow: You can’t defeat me. I’m a part of you. Drillemont: [Name], I’ll help you! You helped us in our greatest time of need too. Dark shadow: Help them? Bet they’ll have to save you again?

Dark shadow: I... we were so close...

Dark shadow: That is exactly the problem! Dark shadow: Do you even know how ridiculous this struggle must look to the others? Dark shadow: Free yourself from the pain!

[Battle over] [Name]: After a battle everything else in life is turned down in comparison - you can deal with anything. [Name]: I made you strong. I have... given you all your strength... [Name]: Recognise the irony of your existence: Your strength is the cause of your pain. It makes you a hero, and as a hero you’re doomed to suffer.

Knight: [Name]! We’re with you! Cenota: [Name]! Believe in yourself! Believe in us! Clotairion: We know who you really are. Don’t forget that!

[Name]: They stand at your side... while you carry their pain. [Name]: But that’s what you want, isn’t it? You want to suffer. You’re always looking for someone whose pain you can carry. That’s your nature. [Name]: The nature of a dark knight. It’s your fate. Nobody will ever do it better than you... [Name]: You seek this pain. You seek that suffering. [Name]: You’ve brought the last offering. So take this reward... [Name]: [Name]... [Name]: [Name]... I’m the part of you incapable of being a hero. Hide me. Deep in your heart. [Name]: I will speak to you again. Because I know you’re stronger than me.

[Name]: What belongs together comes together. [Name]: I’ll return back into you and give you the power to protect the world. I’ll cry your tears. I’ll carry your burden. I’ll be your rage. [Name]: Let’s go on a journey together again.

Capable knight: We have you back, Halone be praised! For a moment there I thought we’d lost you to your innermost demons. Capable knight: I don’t really understand what happened here, but Lord Drillemont doesn’t seem too angry. Fortunately nobody was permanently injured... Capable knight: First up I’ll make sure Fray’s body is given an appropriate burial. Capable knight: And you? Are you sure everything is okay? You were a little... confused. But what am I implying... Forgive me, my lord. And farewell.

Notes and commentary:

"Das ist dein Leben und es endet jede Minute aufs Neue” is a quote from the German dub of Fight Club apparently, though I never watched it in any language so I have no idea what the context is.

German has formal and informal pronouns, but the only character in these quests to use formal pronouns for your character is the capable knight. That said, everyone still speaks fairly politely to you except Fray, who speaks so casually to everyone it crosses into being rude and overly familiar.

Personally I like German Fray a lot. They feel like the best of both worlds, keeping the emotional vulnerability of Japanese Fray while adding some of the bitter anger English Fray has. They also have a certain awkwardness to them that is really endearing, and which I’m not sure really comes across in just these two quests even with the lame breakfast oneliner. The lv35 quest has this exchange which I really like.

>That voice I heard. Who is speaking to me? >Why were you being accused by the High Tribunal anyway? Hmmm? -->Wild playing and endangering the elderly - shouldn’t that be punished severely? (This is the excuse the temple knights used to take away the old woman’s granddaughter)

Fray: R-really? But things like that just happen when kids play... Fray: A-haha, I get it! You made a joke! You really got me there. Seriously though, what do you want to ask me?

What stood out to me about German Fray next to the English one (and my limited knowledge of the Japanese one) is that they’re a bit of a jokester, though it doesn’t really show in the last two quests because they’re getting desperate. When you free the prisoners from the Amal’jaa in the lv40 quest duty, the enemy yells “You’ll pay for this with your blood!” and Fray responds “Send me an invoice!”

There’s also the exchange with Fray when you learn what happened to the old woman whose grandchild was taken in the lv30 quest, which in English goes like this

Fray: They might spare the girl, you know. Leave her with a few scars and a lifelong lesson. Fray: ...Or, we could beat every single one of them within an ilm of their lives and rescue the girl. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? [You nod, and Fray smiles] Fray: I knew you would.

and in German goes like this

Fray: Are you the dark knight that will stand up for this old woman? Think about it carefully, since it might cost you your head. Fray: Think about the enemies you’re facing, and the wounds they will inflict on you. Think about how you could just turn around and go lie in a warm bed, and nobody would suspect you. [You nod, and Fray smiles] Fray: I feared as much.

In the Japanese and English versions (and French, since French drk is just a direct translation of the English one) the original Fray legitimately lost his trial by combat, but in the German version the trial was rigged. The Ishgardian Citizen describes how Fray was winning until Halone herself struck him down with a pillar of fire - someone in the audience mumbled that it looked suspiciously like a Flare spell cast from the direction of the jury, but naturally the citizen immediately reported that heretic to the inquisition for doubting Halone’s judgement. The reason I even read the German version was because I got mad about translators making some shit up wholesale, but I have to admit I do like this particular thing that translators made up wholesale.

It also turns out Fray writing in the quest journal is unique to the English version! I really missed their commentary when I checked the German journal and it just wasn’t there. Another win for making shit up wholesale I suppose.

I’ve been told the scripts for different languages of the game are written concurrently rather than first in Japanese and then translated, so it’s not entirely fair to claim any one of them as the original that the others are unfaithful translations of. Even if that’s the case I still don’t think the different language scripts should be so wildly different in meaning from each other, but putting that aside I do like having these varying takes on Fray to rotate in my head and I wouldn’t have any complaints if the way they were implemented was through supplementary material like short stories or a manga or something.

I also think each version of Fray has something good going for them, and that they become better when put next to each other. I like how the English script has even your repressed feelings be so repressed that they cling to their front of smug superiority and righteous anger until the very end, and only manage to really express themselves in the journal where nobody would ordinarily look. I like Japanese Fray spilling their whole entire heart out and sounding permanently on the verge of crying from how desperate they are despite their imposing appearance. And my personal favourite is German Fray for how much they feel like genuinely just a regular person who’s in too deep and has no choice but to keep doing what they think is best.

#ffxiv #fray #fray myste #dark knight #translation

[suddenlybambi]

as long as you stay here [3] ♥ kyle broflovski

pairing : kyle broflovski x reader

college AU - 18+

tags : strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, alcohol, afab reader, she/her pronouns, eventual smut

words : 2.6k

chapter 3

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a/n - this will likely be the last daily update for now - i have 3 more chapters written so far but i like to keep on top in case i end up falling ill so i don't leave y'all without a chapter for a whole week! - next update will likely be friday (or thursday if i have a lot of motivation!)

thank you to everyone who has supported this story so far 🥰

Y/N was relieved to be back in the apartment, where it was mostly quiet. Just the sounds of the street outside the window that never closed properly could be heard. 

She grabbed the remote, deciding the TV was the most obvious thing to use to entertain her new guest. While she and Kyle had bonded over their mutual disdain for the club, she didn’t know much else about him.

She flicked the power button a few times, groaning in realisation. “Andddd… The TV is broken again!” She put the remote down on the side and tried to unplug and replug the TV in, but it didn’t help. “Clyde has been here one day, and he’s already done something to it.”

“How old is that thing?” Kyle looked in slight awe at the TV. It was one of the first models of ‘flatscreen’ TVs, but it was still three times the width of any TV for sale in stores in the present day. 

“It was Bebe’s grandma’s. It got 10 whole channels, but we managed to rig a fire tv stick up to it,” Y/N explained, trying the remote one last time. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid that is all we have in the way of guest entertainment. That is unless you fancy taking a look at Bebe’s gossip magazine collection that has taken over the coffee table?” 

“I’ll pass, I think?” Kyle laughed awkwardly, looking down at the selection. “As tempting as it is to find out… Which Kardashian has the most expensive nose?”

“That leaves two options that I can think of. You can crash in the spare bed in what was Wendy’s room until they return from clubbing,” She gestured down the hall to the open door to the room that had once been Wendy’s room. It now only housed a double bed and an empty dresser. “Or you can join me in my room while I watch a nature documentary, and we can do sudokus together?”

“Definitely living up to the party animal part of the party-hating party animal title.” Kyle teased, but she could tell he wasn’t genuinely making fun of her. “I mean, a nature documentary? Sudokus? What a wild night.” 

“We could watch something else if that’s too hardcore for you? Maybe do a word search or spot the difference instead?” 

“I think I can just about handle it. I’ll let you know if it is too much for me.”

“I don’t have a couch in my room. You don’t feel awkward sitting on the bed, do you?”

“What is a bed but just a longer couch?”

“Wow! I didn’t realise I was in the presence of such a magnificent philosopher!” Y/N laughed, leading the way to her room. She was glad that Kyle was open to joking around with her, as it made the fact that they would be spending the following hours together a little less awkward. 

She opened the door to her bedroom, glad she had cleaned up a little the day before since it had been a bit of a mess. There were still textbooks everywhere and about five mugs on the side that she swore she would take to the kitchen to clean, but that was about it. Her bed was even made for once. “Whales or birds?” 

“Birds,” Kyle decided after a second of consideration.

“That is absolutely the correct choice!” Y/N grinned. She jumped onto her bed, lunging over it to grab the remote control. She scooted over to the side so Kyle could sit next to her, which he did, leaving a respectful amount of space in between them. She pulled the multiple sudoku books from her bedside table drawer and laid them out on the bed, grabbing a couple of the pens she had on the side.

“You don’t actually have to do any sudokus if you don’t want to,” She clarified, picking up the one she had last been working on and flipping to the next empty one. “My phone charger is next to you if you need it.”

“Thanks, I’m on 5%,” He leaned over the side of the bed to retrieve the charger and plug his phone in. “Honestly, I’d rather do a sudoku than anything else,” He admitted, picking up one of the books and flipping to the next free page. Y/N turned on the documentary about birds that she had planned to watch, and they sat in peaceful quiet. She knew she had made the right choice leaving with Kyle, and she didn’t for a single second regret suggesting that he came back to hers while the others enjoyed the rest of the night.

The buzzing of her phone in her bra startled Y/N awake. She had to blink her eyes a few times to register her surroundings. Feeling a weight on her shoulder, she turned her head to see that Kyle had fallen asleep as well, resting his head on her.

She didn’t want to wake him, so she tried to move carefully and gently to pull her phone out and check why it buzzed. She was met with a text from Bebe.

bebe 💋 : weere on way howme now b 10 mins 

bebe 💋 : wend and stan r going to stay at oirs in old room

bebe 💋 : so skyle will have to satay or get cab home allone 

Y/N could barely make out the words Bebe was typing but just about managed to translate that Wendy and Stan would be staying in Wendy’s old room, so Kyle would either have to stay over or get a cab home by himself.

She turned her head again to look at the sleeping boy on her shoulder. Would he want to go home? Where would he sleep if he stayed? She would probably let him stay like that on her shoulder all night had the impending interruption from the others coming home not been looming in the distance; he looked so peaceful. 

She checked the time, it was 1am, but she was starving.

y/n 💕 : are we getting food?

bebe 💋 : we caan order in whene home xzxzxxx

Satisfied with that answer, she set her phone down on the bed.

“Kyle?” Y/N carefully nudged her shoulder to try and wake him up in the most gentle way she could so as not to startle him. It worked as he slowly lifted his head and yawned.

“Sorry for falling asleep,” He mumbled, yawning a second time. He had the slightest red tinge on his face as he realised he had been resting against her.

“No worries, I did too,” She confessed, now yawning herself. “Bebe just texted, and there has been a change of plans. Wendy and Stan are staying in Wendy’s old room tonight, so you can either stay here or get a cab home by yourself?” She didn’t particularly like the idea of him getting a cab home alone at that time of night, particularly if he would be returning to an empty apartment.

“Where would I sleep?” He asked. She could tell he didn’t really want to go back to his apartment alone.

“The couch hurts like hell, but that’s an option, or you can just sleep in here,” She shrugged, sitting up properly as she realised the dress had ridden up in her sleep, and she was a small movement away from accidentally flashing him. She tried to casually pull it down as much as possible. “I don’t mind. We’ve already proved we can both sleep here, and you don’t seem like a creep.” 

“Thanks, neither do you… I’ll stay here,” He nodded sleepily, sitting himself up with her. “Do you know if Clyde has any clothes I can change into? These jeans are uncomfortable to sleep in. My legs feel dead.”

“I don’t know how much of his stuff Clyde has moved in yet, or where it would be,” Y/N swung her legs over the bed and stood up, stretching a little. “I probably have something; hold on.” 

“Your dress is- uh-“ Kyle stuttered a little and diverted his attention to the ceiling to avoid looking at Y/N’s exposed behind.

“Shit, I am so sorry,” She sighed, trying to pull the dress down to cover her again. “This is Bebe’s dress. I’m not used to it.”

“No worries,” He looked at her again once it was safe, watching as she crossed the room and rifled through her dresser, pulling a couple of pairs of sweatpants and a few t-shirts out.

“Take your pick,” She threw them onto the end of the bed. “My mom wanted to throw my older brother’s clothes out when he went travelling, but I just repopulated my wardrobe with them.” Kyle grabbed some at random, as did Y/N. She usually wore the hand-me-downs to sleep. “Bathroom is down the hall, and it’s the first door to the left.”

Kyle made his way to the bathroom slowly and sleepily. He got changed into the borrowed clothes that were just slightly too big on his slim frame but very comfortable. They were perfect to sleep in. Once changed, he found his way back to Y/N’s room, where she was pulling her shirt on.

“Sorry!” He diverted his eyes again, realising he’d waltzed in unannounced while she was changing.

“I accidentally flashed my whole ass at you a minute ago because of that scrap of fabric Bebe calls a dress, don’t worry about it,” Y/N laughed, grabbing a wipe to rid herself of the makeup Bebe had put on her. It had smudged a little in her sleep, the eyeliner and mascara pooling under her eyes, making her look more tired than she already felt. “They’re going to order some food in when they get here. You hungry?”

“Starving,” Kyle nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Any idea where from?”

“We always pretend to look at the options for five minutes before deciding on that burger place Kenny works for,” She explained, tying her hair back to keep it out of her face. “The fries are so greasy but so good. We’re lucky we get a friends and family discount with the amount we spend in there.”

“Kenny stops by with food from there on game nights. It’s the best,” He agreed with a small smile.

The sound of a key struggling to unlock the front door rang through the apartment before the 4 friends stumbled in.

“Whooo! Let’s keep this party going!” Clyde cheered loudly, still clutching what appeared to be a bottle of beer, spilling a bit on himself either without noticing or without caring.

“Shh!” Y/N left her room to greet them, followed closely by Kyle. “We have enough noise complaints from the neighbours as it is!”

“And who’s fault is that?” Bebe asked, looking at Y/N smugly. She didn’t seem as drunk in person as she was over text, but Bebe was great at putting on a poker face.

“My one-woman opera in the shower has had many five-star reviews,” Y/N joked. “It’s not my fault our neighbours have no taste.”

“I thought you were being murdered and almost broke the door down,” Stan seemed slightly more sober than the rest of the group but still out of it. He must not have drunk as much after they had left.

“You wouldn’t know true art if it hit you in the face!” She retorted. 

“Yes, I-” Wendy cut Stan off before he could finish what he was saying.

“Don’t!” She held him back. “You’re just asking her to slap you in the face… Again.”

“That was one time!” Y/N protested. “And he baited me into it.”

“You’re staying?” Bebe pointed at Kyle, changing the subject. He nodded in confirmation. She looked him up and down, recognising the clothes to be Y/N’s. A sly smile crossed her lips. “What have you two been up to?” The implications were clear in her voice, but Y/N decided to brush them off without even openly acknowledging them.

“We watched a nature documentary, did sudokus, and then fell asleep until you texted,” Y/N shrugged, knowing that telling the truth would be the best option. Even drunk, Bebe could spot a lie from a mile away. “Did you know that there is a bird in Papua, New Guinea that’s poisonous?”

“The Pitohui,” Kyle added. Y/N smiled at him, happy he had actually paid attention and absorbed some knowledge.

Clyde and Stan whispered something to one another, dissolving in fits of giggles at whatever it was. Y/N knew better than to engage and just ignored them. “Okay, everyone, get your food orders written down somewhere while I grab water and aspirin for you all.” 

“Thanks, Mom!” Stan said sarcastically.

“Fine, then you can suffer,” She rolled her eyes and disappeared to the bathroom to grab the aspirin. She returned to the shared kitchen living space to see that Kyle had already started to get water for everyone. “I have rehydration things somewhere around here.” She mumbled, looking through the cupboards until she found what she was looking for.

“Are you guys seeing this?” Stan pointed at the pair as they prepared the rehydration drinks and aspirin. “This is why I said they needed to meet up. They’re both totally lame.”

“Staniel, we can hear you,” Y/N sighed, grabbing a glass in either hand and passing one to Stan and one to Wendy while Kyle did the same for Bebe and Clyde. “Drink this, take these, thank us later when you only feel slightly shit in the morning instead of completely shit.”

“Have you ordered the food yet?” Clyde groaned, slouching on the sofa. “I’m so hungry.”

“You haven’t given me your orders yet,” Y/N pointed out, but Bebe waved her phone around.

“I started a group chat, and they are in there,” She announced, collapsing on top of Clyde on the couch. “It’s called best friends because that’s what we are.” Y/N sighed and made her way to her room to grab her phone, as she had left it on the bed after Bebe texted her on their way home. Kyle trailed after her, having left his own phone on charge in there.

Y/N checked her messages to see a new group chat had indeed been made and was already flooded with poorly spelt food requests. She assumed the one number she didn’t have saved was Kyle’s, so she quickly saved it under ‘kyle 📗’.

“Here, just add what you want,” She passed her phone over to Kyle after she had input everyone else’s requests. He flicked through and added what he wanted, passing it back to her with a smile.

“Mind if I stay in here while we wait for the food?” He asked, looking over at the door to make sure it was closed. “When Clyde is drunk, he’s a little….”

“Loud? Annoying? More so than usual?” Y/N suggested the descriptions. Kyle nodded a little hesitantly. “Stay in here all you like, dude. I’m staying here as well if that’s okay with you?”

“It’s your room,” He laughed a little. “You don’t have to ask if it's okay with me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the guest,” She shrugged in response, sitting down on her bed. Kyle followed suit, sitting down next to her. He was so careful in his movements, as if he was worried he was doing something wrong. If Y/N had to be honest, it was a little cute. “I’d bet $10 on Clyde passing out before the food even gets here.”

“I’ll add another $10 for Stan passing out too.”

a/n - let me know if you would like to be on the taglist for this fic

current taglist - @n0tangeliccc @solana-central @charqing-qing @eiizabeth-torres @hand-writxen @audiliah

#kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski fic #south park fanfiction #south park fic #south park kyle #south park #kyle broflovski x reader #alaysh suddenlybambi #alaysh #as long as you stay here

[leslie-lyman]

And I’ll Be All in Clover

Summary: Marcus attends the White House Easter Egg Roll and finds someone he did not expect.

Pairing: Congressman!Marcus Pike x nameless OFC/f!reader

Rating: G

Word count: 3.2k

a/n: Oh hi there. It’s been a minute, huh? Remember when I promised this update like three months ago? I’ve been tinkering on and off with this installment forEVER and finally finished it! Note that we find out some more about Marcus’s mystery lady from Part 1 here; she is referred to only with she/her pronouns and no defining physical description, so you can read her as a female reader insert if you like, though she does have a specific job and background in this story. If you’d like to be notified when I post new writing, please follow my writing update blog @leslie-lyman-writes and turn on notifications.

Part 1 || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

———

“Alright, who is she?”

Marcus flinches, startled at the sound of Linda’s voice. He turns towards the door of his office where his chief of staff is standing, one hip resting against the door jam.

“What are you talking about?”

Linda shakes her head, wild black curls swishing back and forth over her shoulders.

“Don’t play dumb, Marcus. It doesn’t suit you. You’ve been moping around the office for three weeks, staring off into the middle distance, and I’m pretty sure it’s not because you’re daydreaming about the defense budget or campaign finance reform. So who is she?”

Linda is astonishingly good at reading people. It’s part of what makes her such an effective chief. But Marcus is also astonishingly easy to read, and Linda knows about his history with women better than most.

It’s especially embarrassing that he can’t actually answer her question. And the shame at being caught out makes him raise his hackles in defense.

“You know, just because I may have been a little quiet lately doesn’t mean it’s automatically about a woman,” he huffs. “Not everything with me is always about a woman. I’m capable of caring deeply about lots of things. Maybe I’ve been mulling over what I wanna say at the NASA hearing this week. Or wondering whether Jackie Evers is gonna agree to co-lead our economic development bill. Or wrestling with the fact that San Antonio remains the most impoverished major city in the nation.”

“Marcus…”

“Three hundred and fifty thousand people below the poverty line, Linda,” he continues, working himself up. “And what are we doing to make it better? Children going hungry, undocumented families scared for their lives, lead pipes in the walls and guns on the streets, money for fighter jets but none for child care, and you think just because I’ve been a little moody lately that it’s about a woman? You’re really gonna just walk into my office and assume that any change in my mood has to be about a woman?”

Linda waits until he’s gotten it all out of his system, watching him rise from his seat and gesture more and more broadly with his hands the more indignant he becomes. When he finally stops, breathing like he’s just run a hundred-meter dash, she simply raises one eyebrow and says:

“So what is it about, then?”

Marcus meets her stare with his own for a few seconds, then deflates entirely, flopping back into his chair.

“It’s about a woman.”

Linda has the good grace not to lord her correct assumption over him. She merely hums at the satisfaction of being right and wanders over to stand in front of Marcus’s desk. She tosses a small envelope at him, which he catches with a start.

“What is this?”

“A distraction.”

With a small frown Marcus opens it, pulling out a slip of official-looking card stock.

“The White House Easter Egg Roll?”

“Rebecca was supposed to go with me and Olivia, but she has to work. So now I have an extra ticket.”

“I suppose that I should be flattered that I’m your second choice right after your wife.”

Linda rolls her eyes.

“Oh please. You need to snap out of this funk you’re in, and perhaps getting outside and touching some grass will help. And if that grass so happens to be on the South Lawn at a wholesome family event where President Ramirez will also be in attendance, along with a certain senator whose support you need to get the drug treatment court money included in the omnibus…”

Marcus looks up, suddenly interested.

“Jones will be there? How do you know?”

“Because I know everything.”

Marcus has yet to find that to be untrue.

“He’s been dodging my calls for weeks.”

“I know.”

Linda can see the wheels turning in Marcus’s brain based on this new information, and knows that he’s probably already jumping ahead to formulating what he’d say to make his pitch for the money to the senator.

This is what Marcus needs: a cause and a plan.

“I’m gonna need updated stats on — ”

“Yeah.”

“And I’d like to look over the list of organizations that have come out in support again, too.”

“Yup.”

Marcus stares hard at the base of the lamp on his desk without really seeing it as he thinks things through.

“If I could just talk to him about it, if I could just lay out the case for this funding, I know I could convince him to do it. I know I could.”

Nearly twenty-five years in politics has made Linda nothing if not a realist. But to see the fervor with which Marcus clings to his convictions, to his belief in people and in their ability to do the right thing, threatens to chip away at her more jaded edges. She can’t bring herself to try and rein in his optimism, so she gently changes the subject.

“Olivia will love to see you too. It’s been too long since she’s gotten to hang out with her Uncle Marcus. And maybe you could try and have some fun while we’re there? You know, relax a little bit? There’s usually a few celebrities who show up to this thing. There’s a rumor going around that Bad Bunny might make an appearance this year.”

Marcus lets out a bark of laughter.

“That’s funny,” he says.

The look on Linda’s face remains unamused.

“Y’know, cause it’s the Easter — ”

“Shut up, and don’t be late.”

The sounds of Marcus chuckling follow her all the way to her office.

———

The White House Easter Egg Roll dates back to 1878. Egg rolling had become a popular Easter Monday event for Washington, DC’s children in the 1870s, who would race their eggs down the west grounds of the United States Capitol. In 1876, Congress outlawed the practice out of concern for the impact on the Capitol grounds. Two years later, President Rutherford B. Hayes initiated the first White House Easter Egg Roll as a new alternative venue for the tradition.

In its present form, thousands of families descend upon the South Lawn every Easter Monday for an event that has become essentially the world’s most tightly secured garden party. The titular egg roll is still the main event, but the vast grounds that stretch from the White House’s Truman Balcony down to the edge of the Ellipse also boast all manner of food stations, educational activities for kids, a proper Easter egg hunt, a petting zoo, various costumed characters, and a performance stage.

The United States Marine Corps Band is halfway through a rendition of “Easter Parade” when Marcus, Linda, and Olivia enter the grounds. It’s a beautiful day for the event; April weather in DC can range from sleet to blazing sun, but today is downright idyllic. Fluffy clouds float across the clear blue sky over the nearby Washington Monument. The South Lawn gleams emerald green, covered in a sea of people in mostly pastel outfits.

Dressing for an event at the White House is usually a formal affair, but per Linda’s advice Marcus has foregone a tie and opted for the most springtime-like shirt in his closet: a button-down in crisp periwinkle under a suit a shade too bright to be considered navy. A Congressman’s business casual.

Olivia is, as predicted, overjoyed to see the man she’s called Uncle Marcus since she learned to talk. She remains glued to Marcus’s side as they wander the grounds, stopping to load up on sugary snacks and feed handfuls of grain pellets to the baby goats at the petting zoo. Her long black curls and boundless energy mirror Linda’s, and before long she has grass stains and dirt streaks on her pink Easter dress but neither of her chaperones is concerned. Stains will wash out, Linda had told Marcus once, the fun she had getting them is far more important.

It’s more fun than Marcus has had in a long time. It’s a beautiful day with people he considers family, but there’s a twinge of something he feels deep in his gut that threatens to spoil it for him.

Envy.

He would be hard-pressed to find a situation that makes more clear than this one that which he lacks: a family of his own. He’s surrounded by the shrieks and laughter of children, the sight of moms and dads cheering their kids on as they race eggs down the steepest part of the South Lawn’s slope. He’s spotted many of his colleagues here, other members of Congress with their families, happy and together and full of love for each other. There is no doubt in Marcus’s mind that he loves Olivia, but nothing can ever change that fact that she isn’t his.

After the painful saga of his divorce and the whole mess with Theresa, Marcus had thrown himself not long after into the drastic career change of running for office. That had consumed eighteen months of his life and had worked wonders in keeping him so busy and exhausted that the idea of venturing out into the dating world again had been pushed from his mind. His singleness had even become something of an object of fascination to the public. Politico had dubbed him “Congress’s Most Eligible Bachelor” not long ago on what must have been a particularly slow news day. But now…

He’s starting to think he’ll never stop yearning for it, of finding that someone, that connection, that partner. Of having what everyone else does: a happily ever after. And he’s also starting to fear that it might never happen.

“I don’t see Jones yet,” Linda murmurs to him as they clean their hands after the baby goat encounter. Oh right, he remembers. This is also technically a work event.

“Somehow I can’t picture him willingly spending much time near farm animals,” Marcus replies.

Linda makes a noise of amused agreement before Olivia suddenly lets out a squeal of excitement.

“Mom, mom, look! It’s Bluey!”

Sure enough, the cartoon’s titular dog has made an appearance near the performance stage to the audible delight of seemingly every kid here. Olivia grabs Linda’s hand and starts trying to drag her over.

“You know I’d hoped when she turned five she’d move beyond her Bluey obsession, but it hasn’t happened yet,” Linda mutters to Marcus.

“The trials of parenthood,” Marcus grins.

“I’ll take her over there, why don’t you go do a lap and see if you can’t run into a certain senator?”

Marcus nods.

“And you looked at the latest stats on recidivism?” Linda calls over her shoulder as Olivia impatiently leads her away.

“Yes! Now go get your kid a picture with that dog!”

———

Marcus wanders. He stops to say hello to some of the other Members he knows and is friendly with. Several times it’s other people who stop him. He’s a more recognizable face than most other elected officials, despite his short tenure on the job, and every few minutes someone comes up and asks for a selfie.

There are also professional photographers mingling about from the ever-present White House Press Corps, the gaggle of reporters from all manner of news outlets assigned to cover the White House. Marcus runs into a journalist he’s spoken with a few times from CBS News and grants him a quick interview for the outlet’s TikTok about what his first Easter Egg Roll has been like so far. But there’s no sign yet of the senator he’s hoping to speak with.

He’s wandering past the section of the lawn where Jorge Ramirez, the First Gentleman, is reading from a picture book to a group of children when he notices a camera pointed in his direction out of the corner of his eye. He turns in the photographer’s direction and before she even lowers her camera recognition hits him like lightning.

The woman from the botanical gardens.

The surprise is written all over his face and he knows it, but he can’t muster the wherewithal to school his expression into anything more neutral before he hears the click of the camera’s shutter. But when she lowers the device, she’s smiling at him, and the unexpected delight at seeing her again has him grinning back.

She walks over to him, inspecting the photo she’d just taken on the camera’s display. She’s dressed in black trousers, a white blouse, and comfy-looking sneakers, a black camera bag slung over one shoulder.

“Hello again, Congressman,” she says.

“Hi,” is all Marcus manages.

Something from their first meeting occurs to him then that throws cold water over his excitement.

“I thought you said you weren’t press.” He tries to keep his tone as light as possible.

She fishes an ID badge on a lanyard out from around her neck and holds it out for him to see. It’s not the standard press badge all credentialed reports are required to wear when on White House grounds. It’s a staff badge.

“You work for the President?”

“I do.” She tucks the badge away. “I used to be press, but I’ve since come over to the other side.”

“Ah.”

The chatter of a thousand people surrounds them. Not far away the band finishes a medley of Disney songs to a round of applause. But to Marcus it all feels very far away. Instead he’s hyper-aware of every detail about her: her fingers fidgeting a bit nervously with the camera she still holds, the white flash of her teeth between pretty pink lips, the mismatched earrings she wears (one a carrot, the other a bunny).

“I didn’t get a chance to get your name, before,” he says.

She gives it to him, and the knot he’s carried around in his chest for weeks wondering who this woman is loosens.

“Marcus Pike,” he returns, holding out his hand.

“Oh, I know,” she replies teasingly. Her grip is firm and sends a little shiver of electricity up Marcus’s spine.

Being an FBI agent meant that Marcus was used to projecting an air of authority, to having people sit up and take notice of when he spoke. But being an elected official deferred upon him even more authority whether he felt it was earned or not, it made his time, his attention, be in great demand. If you knew who he was, you probably wanted something from him. And people were so impressed by him, so deferential to him, so flattering and accommodating. Many of his colleagues let it go right to their heads. But all it did was make Marcus constantly second-guess who he could trust.

There’s nothing of that here with this woman. What he sees is the curve of her lip and the quirk of her eyebrow and what he hears is her Oh, I know but what he feels is that she fails to find his status impressive or intimidating and how refreshing that is. How rare, these days, for him to have a conversation feeling like someone is talking to him instead of his title.

“I’m so happy to see you again,” he tells her. “I…regret that our conversation in the gardens got cut short.” He hopes she doesn’t take that to mean he’s blaming her.

She shrugs, attempting to look nonchalant, her bag shifting at the movement.

“I know how it is with Members. I didn’t want to impose on too much of your time.”

“You could have,” Marcus blurts out before he can stop himself.

“You could have,” he repeats more quietly. “Talking with you…it was the best part of my day. Of my whole week. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.” About you, he adds silently, but doesn’t say aloud.

The teasing edge to her smile fades, replaced by something shyer, more genuine.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it either,” she admits.

Warmth blooms in Marcus’s chest that has nothing to do with the bright April sunshine.

“Could I — could we talk more, sometime?”

“Are you asking me out, Congressman?”

“It’s Marcus, actually,” he says with a coy grin, finally finding the ability to flirt again that usually comes so naturally to him.

Something in her face falters, a flash of disappointment.

“Not here, it’s not,” she murmurs, “not right now.”

Her eyes slide past his to glance about at the crowds of people around them. Guilt clenches in his gut as reality floods back in, the bubble around them bursting and the sounds of the crowds around them suddenly returning to full volume in his ear. How could he be so careless? He’s a Member of Congress, she’s a White House staffer, and right now, she’s working. There are still power dynamics here that he’s completely forgotten about until this moment.

“Oh, fuck, you’re right. I’m so sorry, forget I said anything—”

“Don’t be.” She shakes her head at him, eyes wide. “What I meant by ‘not right now,’ is that—it’s not that I’m not inter—” She blows a raspberry with her lips and swipes a hand over her face.

“What I mean to say is, I should be done with work today by seven. If, if you’d like to talk more. Which I would very much like, for the record.”

She reaches into her camera bag and pulls out a crisp white business card and a pen, scribbling a phone number down on the back. He takes it from her when she holds it out to him, their fingertips just barely brushing.

“Hey boss!” The sound of Linda calling for him from over his shoulder is a rough yank back to reality. He turns to find her walking towards them, a giddy Olivia in tow.

“Senator Jones, three o’clock.” And sure enough, off to Marcus’s right, he spots the man in question, sun gleaming off both his bald spot and his veneers, talking with several other men in stuffy suits and ties.

Linda looks past Marcus at his no-longer-a-mystery woman, then back at him, the look on her face telling him that she’s immediately figured out who it is he’s been talking to.

“I’m sorry,” Marcus says, “I can’t believe I’m doing this again, but I gotta—”

“It’s okay,” she reassures him. “Looks like we both have to get back to work.”

Marcus sighs, fingers tightening on the little card he still holds.

“Happy Easter, Congressman,” she says.

“Happy Easter,” he replies with a murmur of her name, and finds he likes the way it feels on his lips.

———

The rest of the day passes in a blur.

He has a good talk with Senator Jones (he thinks, he hopes), he gives three more impromptu interviews, he eats too much chocolate with Olivia before carrying her back to her mother’s car. He grabs Chinese takeout on the way back to his apartment, a sparsely furnished one-bedroom in Navy Yard, and fights the urge every step of the way to google the gorgeous White House photographer whose number is burning a hole in his pocket.

There’s so much he wants to know about her. And he could so easily find out so much if he wanted to right this moment, her whole career likely just a quick google search away, but he resists. Don’t dive in so quick, he tells himself. Don’t rush. Besides, he wants to hear it all from her herself.

He punches in the number at 7:02.

It rings only once before she answers.

“Hello, Marcus.”

#marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #Marcus pike x ofc #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #the mentalist fanfic

[glacierruler]

Banding With You

Chapter 1

Ships: Eventual dukexiety, (idk if there will be any other ships yet)

AU: A band AU with a Soulmate twist!

Taglist: @hyperfixated-homo @cutebisexualmess @uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous (Please tell me if you'd like to be added/removed from the taglist!)

A big thank you to @simple-seranade for the idea!

CWs: none that I caught(please tell me if I missed anything)

Masterpost / Next Chapter

Words: 307

12/19/23 7:00 am

Hello,

My name is Virgil, and you are my journal. Mom recently got me a new one to write in because I filled up the old one. To be very clear, you will mostly be used for song lyrics and venting. What I have to say isn’t always pretty. You’re also one of my birthday presents. One of three from my family members. I don’t really have any friends, except for Logan, who’s friends with Patton. Don’t get me wrong, Patton’s nice and all, but he doesn’t really like me, finds me scary. Idk how I feel about him. Oh, right, my presents. Mom got me a new binder, and dad got me a keyboard. I’ll have to play around with it. But it’s much more portable than a piano for sure. Oh right. Maybe I should introduce you to myself, journal. I already told you my name, but my gender and pronouns are a secret for you still, I guess. I always introduce myself in each new journal, I don’t know why. Just feels nice to actually introduce myself to something. I am way too socially awkward to introduce myself to someone else. Anyways, my gender is fluid, and my default pronouns are storm/storms. But I’ll try and update my pronouns in you each time they change. That way, I can get better at updating my pronouns to other random people, if I ever get the chance to. Anyways there’s this band competition in my town, but I need two other people in order to qualify. Maybe I’ll ask Logan and Patton. Don’t know what we’d do though. Well, Logan can play the guitar, just need to figure out what Patton can do. Anyways, goodbye for now journal. I’ll talk to you after dinner, well write to in you.

#sanders sides #fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil #logan #patton #genderfluid! virgil #soulmate au #band au #rival band au #eventual dukexiety #ts virgil #sanders sides virgil #glacier writes #glacier's fanfics #glacier's sanders sides fanfic

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 2,701 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan Warnings: scary imagery, language, typical TWD, nothing particularly bad in this chapter! Summary: Y/N and Daryl sort through their feelings after the previous day and head up to the overlook to see what they can see in the valley below. A/N: [TW in this note: loss of beloved pet, grief] Well, I finally managed it. After a necessary hiatus, I finally was able to get this update finished. Last night, I wrote about 200 words, sobbed, and then finished the chapter. Strider is based on my beloved black lab Aldo who passed away unexpectedly in July due to an antibiotic resistant infection that ultimately damaged one of his heart valves. He was only 7. Writing this fic is emotionally draining for me. It causes me to reflect on my own loss of a pup who should be here still but isn't. Updates may be a bit slow because of that, but I have more of Y/N and Daryl's story to tell, so on we go...

A/N: This is part of a series! You can find all the previous parts on my Master List.

Previous Chapter

Your name: submit What is this?

“Are you sure yer ready for this?” Daryl asked you for maybe the hundredth time. “I just mean—yer leg, ya know?”

You were sitting on the bench pulling on the last of your winter gear. You finished lacing your boots securely and stood, giving him a small smile and a hearty nod. “I’m sure. Would you quit worrying so much?”

He brushed a hand back through his hair as he watched you shoulder your heavy pack. Loaded with gear for the long hike ahead. “ ‘M’sorry. I’m just—”

“Making sure,” you finished for him, your hand on the door handle. “I know. But I can do it. I’m a pretty good judge of my own abilities, Daryl,” you said, a light lilt in your voice. “It’s sort of how I’ve lasted this long.”

“I know. I know…” he drawled again, ducking his head. “I ain’t questionin’ yer abilities. I ain’t doubtin’ ya. ‘M just—”

“Worrying,” you finished for him again. You nodded, still smiling. “I know. But we’ve got this. If I need to rest on the way up, I’ll rest. Now, come on.” You whistled and the dogs, who had been pacing around impatiently bounded out through the front door as you pulled it open. You grabbed a pair of trekking poles that were leaned up against the cabin and stopped on the top step of the deck, looking out at the sun sparkling on the snow. It had been smoothed by an icy wind overnight and looked like a clean, white blanket. You took mental inventory of your gear one more time and then stepped into the deep snow.

Daryl was trailing behind you and you glanced back at him over your shoulder, slowing up to wait, a small smile still on your face. “Are you hiding back there?” you asked him. “Or just guarding the rear?”

Daryl lifted his gloved hand off the handle of his knife and came along side you. “No,” he drawled.

You started forward again, watching the dogs bounding playfully in front. Bear was carving a straight track toward the trail that would lead you up toward the overlook. Strider was quartering in front of you a short distance away, moving left then swinging around and running back to the right, nose in the snow, tail flagging happily. His face was already dusted with snow.

“You’ve been a bit quiet,” you commented, hazarding a sideways glance at Daryl.

He kept striding forward, his bright blue eyes narrowed a little in the sun and snow glare. He gulped. He was trying to come up with a response to that but his mind seemed to be a blank slate.

“Since I kissed you yesterday, I mean,” you said suddenly.

Daryl took a stutter step in the snow and you stopped abruptly and turned to face him completely. You were looking at him expectantly. “Uhh—” Great. That’s what he managed to get out. ‘Uhh.’

Your eyes were bright and perceptive, and you looked pretty much the opposite of how he felt. “Is there something on your mind about it? Maybe we should talk about it?”

Daryl was a swirl of nerves. You’d kissed him. He’d kissed you. He’d kissed you again. You’d slipped your fingers between his. Then the two of you had spent what turned out to be a largely normal evening together in the cabin. Sure, maybe you would touch him lightly on the shoulder or rest your fingers on his arm for a moment. Or you’d leaned your body into his as you reached for something in the cabinet he was standing in front of… and yes, those little contacts with you were setting him ablaze even more than usual—but beyond that… had anything really changed? He couldn’t be entirely sure that there was anything more frequent or more heated about those little touches. Was that kiss, your confession of your feelings for him, just a spur of the moment whim that maintained no momentum, had no traction? He was consumed with doubt.

Maybe he should have kissed you again when you’d said goodnight to each other… it’d felt like being on a different planet when he’d retired to his room and you’d slipped into yours. He’d laid awake a large part of the night, his mind swirling with disbelief and fears and hopes and voices from his past that he could never quite banish.

“Daryl,” you said again, gently prodding him. Fuck. How long had he been staring vacantly?

“Nah, ‘s’nothin’,” he drawled. He was caught off guard with you bringing it up so bluntly and abruptly.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I think I’m still processing everything, too. But if there’s something bothering you—”

Daryl cleared his throat and started forward again. You fell into stride next to him again, still glancing over and trying to get a read on him. “I think ‘m just stuck on… logistics,” he said.

Now your brow furrowed. ���Logistics,” you repeated. You shook your head, clearly confused. “What—I don’t know what that means.”

Daryl hummed a vague noise and started forward again. “ ‘S’nothin’. I think we should just—ya know, just focus on gettin’ up to this overlook and seein’ what we see.”

You didn’t respond and Daryl could see you still puzzling over his response. He sighed heavily, worried he’d crushed your previously high-spirited mood. “Fuck,” he muttered. “‘M sorry. I shouldn’ta even mentioned anything.”

You glanced back over at him. “You didn’t. I asked. I just—I feel like something is on your mind and if there’s something I can do to lift it—”

“‘S’nothin’. Really,” he drawled, but you still looked unconvinced. He stopped when he felt you gently grip his arm a moment later.

“Do you want to kiss me again?” you asked him, your eyes fixed on his face, your expression open and earnest.

He did. Of course he fucking did. He nodded.

You smiled. The light in your eyes seemed to sparkle. “Then kiss me,” you said.

“Righ’ now?” he asked, a kneejerk response.

“No, next Tuesday,” you joked. “Yes, right now.” Daryl still hesitated. You stepped closer to him. “I can tell that you’re worrying about something that isn’t these fucked up runners or whatever. And it obviously has to do with yesterday. But let me just tell you that I meant what I said. And I wanted you to kiss me goodnight last night. And I want you to kiss me now. And I feel every inch of space between us like it’s a mile. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon. So,” you grabbed onto the front of his borrowed jacket, “I don’t know what we’re going to find when we get to the overlook. I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I don’t think any of that matters. The logistics? We can figure those out as we go. So, if you want this the way I do, the way I said yesterday and the way I still mean now—just get out of that head of yours.”

He nodded and his expression looked lighter. You smiled and his heart fluttered that it was for him, that you were looking at him like that, and that you hadn’t changed your mind. “So… s’alrigh’ then if I kiss ya?”

Your smile widened and you felt a burst of warmth in your chest, right between your lungs, and it seemed to glow outwards. “Pretty much whenever you want to,” you said. You let out a peal of laughter as he suddenly tugged you into him with an arm around your back.

“Ya might regret that,” he drawled, brushing the rosy glow on your cheek lightly with the back of his fingers. “I think about kissin’ ya and holdin’ ya all the time.”

You grinned. “Prove it.”

He leaned down and found your lips with his. It was better than a shot of bourbon or slipping into a hot bath—it warmed you from the inside out and you felt dazed by the time you were interrupted.

Strider had barreled in between the two of you and was wagging his tail and darting back and forth. You laughed and pet his silky head. “I think someone is jealous,” you said. Bear was standing nearby, watching thoughtfully with his bright eyes. “Someones…” you added.

Daryl bent to scratch Strider’s chest and the lab leaned into it. “I know, bud. Ya were here first, but I’mma need ya to just share a little bit,” he said. He glanced back up at you and his heart swelled. He felt a hundred times lighter than he had since he’d gone to bed anxious the previous night.

“Come on. We better make tracks if we hope to be back before dark,” you said, tilting your head in the direction of the trail. Daryl and the dogs followed suit.

_ _ _ _ _ _ You were nearly to the overlook but your leg had started cramping. Both of you were out of breath from the steepness of the climb. The dogs, on the other hand, hardly seemed to notice the mileage or incline. You pulled in a deep breath and headed toward a boulder at the side of the trail. The deep snow and terrain were taking their toll. Daryl helped you ease down to sit for a minute.

His brow was heavily creased. “Ya alrigh’?”

You nodded and drew in some more steadying breaths. “Yeah. I just need to rest it for a minute.” You rubbed a hand over your leg. It felt a bit shaky and every once in a while, the muscle would cramp sending a searing pain that shot up into your stomach. You breathed through it as Daryl looked on, worried. “I’m good,” you said. “It’s easing up already.”

You took a moment to breathe the chill air in deeply, filling your lungs as much as they would allow. Daryl was watching you while you were watching the scenery. “It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?” The trees looked like they all had been individually iced with snow, they were so perfect.

“It is,” Daryl said. You realized he wasn’t looking at the views and your face flushed.

You sighed one more time and gave your leg one final rub. “Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s keep going.”

No sooner had you spoken those words than a corpse rose suddenly out of the snow right beside you, grappling at your shoulder with tremendous speed and strength. You let out a yell and slipped from your seat into the snow beside the boulder to get away. Daryl was instantly there with his knife, landing a strike to the head and stilling the thing completely. The dogs had run over barking at the commotion from their guarding places and were now sniffing intensely in the snow nearby. Bear stopped to lick your face where you were still on the ground, a hand clutched to your racing heart.

“Jesus fucking Christ! I fucking hate those things!” you exclaimed.

Daryl helped pull you up. “Me too. How the fuck are they just waitin’ in the snow like that?” he shook his head. “Ain’t right…”

You finished dusting the snow off. “None of this is right. We’ve come up at least another 1,800 feet in elevation. That thing should have been frozen solid three times over.” You glanced around, uneasy. The dogs were still on high alert too.

Daryl wiped his knife blade on his pants and replaced it in its sheath. “Ya okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just nearly gave me a heart attack…” you trailed off, glancing up the trail ahead. “We’re almost there. Let’s keep going.”

Daryl fell into step beside you. “At least the way back is all downhill,” he said. For some reason this made you laugh and he gave you a questioning look.

“Oh, it’s just—Brian used to say that a lot,” you said.

“Mm,” Daryl nodded. “Might be where I got it from. Mountains back home ain’t this big, but we’ve got ‘em. And they’re older than these. Way older… Least, that’s what he told me.”

“Really?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. Ya couldn’t get him to quit ‘bout rocks and shit like that,” he drawled, a vague smile on his face. “Once he started, ya just had to let him run outta steam.” You laughed at that. Same Brian. “But he told me the Appalachian range is older than the Atlantic Ocean. Older than bones. I thought he was just sayin’ shit, ya know? But he explained it. They existed before bones even evolved.”

You were smiling at Daryl serenely again, and hearing something so normal about your brother again soothed your nerves from the runner that had just appeared and what you were going to find at the top of this trail…

“If we could set the world right, back the way it was before all this, and you could snap your fingers and be anything, what would you be?” you asked. The crunch of the snow beneath your boots was setting a satisfying rhythm, and you found that your leg wasn’t tired anymore.

Daryl chewed his bottom lip for a moment and shrugged. “I dunno,” he hummed.

“Oh, come on! Sure you do!” you prodded him.

He thought about it for another long moment. “Well. I guess if I could be anything… I woulda liked to design and build custom bikes. Work with my hands, ya know? I dun think I’d be any good at studyin’ like you or Brian were.”

“I think you could do whatever you decided to,” you said. “But hey—you could still design and build custom bikes now. Just is probably a bit harder,” you said thoughtfully.

Daryl rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, I, uhh—I did kinda. My bike is somewhere down at the bottom of the damn mountains,” he said with a wry laugh. “I built it back home with a bunch of spare parts and—anyway, it’s what got me out here.”

“Are you serious? It’s just sitting down there somewhere?”

“Yeah. I tried to leave it in a safe place but who knows… could only get so far in the snow on a motorcycle.”

“Well, we should go get it. When the snow is gone, we’ll go find it,” you said, as if that was a perfectly easy task.

Daryl glanced over at you and laughed, shaking his head. “Just like that?”

“Yeah. Why not? Between the two of us badasses I’m sure we can manage,” you said with a grin.

God, Daryl loved to see the light in you shining like this. It seemed to be glowing through more and more these days. “Alrigh’. Then we’ll find it. If ya say so.”

You nodded. “I do.” You glanced ahead as the two of your rounded a curve. You pointed with your trekking pole to a very obvious rock formation just ahead. “There. That’s the overlook. There’s a natural window in the rock. You can see the whole valley.”

Daryl followed you the final stretch up. The trail had narrowed and was switchbacks cutting across the mountainside, carving through the wind-stunted trees and rocks. Finally, the two of you stepped onto the stone, largely protected from snow by the natural arch above.

You set your pack down and pulled the spotting scope and tripod from inside and started setting it up. Daryl was already scrutinizing the trees and plains below, but the distance was so great he couldn’t really make anything out beyond the winding elbows of the rivers and streams and a few distant buildings. “Okay,” you mused. “Let’s see just how screwed we are…”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

[asexualmisconduct]

INTRO POST :3

ok so I realized i didn’t have an intro post so heres my intro post

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………

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ok turns out i don’t know how to make an intro post..

ummmmm ok so i guess umm stuff about me???? Ummm oh ya! Dni criteria

DONT INTERACT WITH MY BLOG if you are / support

pro shipping

rascism

incest

abuse of any kind

homophobia

hate against religions

anti recovery

ableism

nazis

think a-spec people don’t belong in lgbt+

hate on furrys, cosplayers and other stuff like that

(just basic dni criteria)

Im apart of many different fandoms so ya. heres a few I’ll update it as i remember/join more:

🔱Percy Jackson and the Olympians🔱

🏛️Heroes of Olympus🏛️

🏃‍♂️the maze runner🏃‍♂️

🪄Harry Potter🪄

🔥the hunger games 🔥

🌿the graceling series🌿

⚙️the girl who dared series⚙️

✨divergent✨

✨alex rider

🩸twilight🩸

🌲gravity falls🌲 (kinda?)

Webtoons:

🌈acception🌈

🎪marionetta🎪

🍬spicy mints🍬

🔮morgana and oz🔮

💜homesick 💜

⭐️the d!ckheads⭐️

‼️school bus graveyard‼️

🛸down to earth🛸

🎭our walk home🎭

🐞bugtopia🐞

📓jacksons diary📓

🧜‍♂️castle swimmer🧜‍♂️

💖maybe meant to be💖

🩸vampire husband🩸

🔆day break🔆

👻rooftops and roommates👻

*to be continued*

I’ve been reading these so if you have any recommendations or questions please send me them :3

ALSO im asexual ( if you didn’t get that from my username well….)

DO NOT SEND ME NSFW STUFF!!!!!

I sometimes post/reblog triggering stuff.. so ya.. I normally tag those: tw [x] if I forget to tag something please tell me so nobody gets triggered by it please. Edit: i now have a vent sideblog @tir3d-and-confus3d so probably wont post anything triggering unless its on accident:3

I TRIED OUT ROLEPLAY AND I LIKE IT SO ILL ROLEPLAY IF YOU WANT TO MAYBE

also if you tag me in something or message me and i don’t reply back quickly i either didn’t see it or i got busy and will reply back as soon as possible

I also don’t know what or how to use the queue so if i like something im gonna reblog right then just fyi :3

Edit if i ever say anything imma tag it #the gremlin speaks

My Name: idk make something up you think would suit me

My Gender: Your Mother

My Pronouns: I honestly couldn’t give a shit go crazy

My Age: Fuck You

💥user box blast 💥

#pinned post #intro post #intro to my blog

[elijahcml]

lemme go ahead and apologize for the amount of bullet train gifs im going to use

take a peak below

— basic

name: elijah carmichael. age / d.o.b.: 33 years. june 13, 1990. gender, pronouns & sexuality: cisgender man. he/him. bisexual. hometown: born in london, uk. living in nyc since age 14. afiliation: syndicate gang member. job position: con artist. education: high school graduate. relationship status: single. a lover of mingling. children: zero that he knows of. positive traits: curious. perceptive. chivalrous. quick-witted. spontaneous. negative traits: hedonistic. opportunistic. impulsive. jealous. selfish.

— bio  told in the form of a letter bc i was bored

october 17, 2010

elena,

sometimes i wish reality was akin to fiction; maybe then these fuckers wouldn’t have made me clean up the pencil marks on my cell wall. so i wanted to live out my fantasy of tallying the days i’ve been here like they do in the movies? big fucking deal. two years, four months, and ten days. eleven days? twelve? no idea. if only i had a way of keeping track of this…

which reminds me - is mum still going to her appointments? you know i adore her, but that specialist in manhattan cost a fuckton. i don’t spend my days staring at chipped paint and sidestepping escobar wannabes for her to stay home and drown in unwarranted guilt. she’s not the reason i’m here, she just can’t fucking see it. it was never about the money or lack of it - it’s the thrill. better than any high. more addicting than any drug. nothing compares to lies, elena. you can’t stop at one, you snowball. i’m elijah, but i’m not. i’m from london, until i’m not. i can be anyone i want to be, all i have to do is say it. want it. believe it. fucking hell, it’s a madness, i know. 

i guess i’ll save you both the pain of being without the family’s pride and joy (me, you know, the one wearing an orange suit and writing this very letter from inside a glorified cage) for much longer and tell you…i’m getting out of here, baby sister. and before you panic yourself into another attack, no, i’m not recreating my own version of prison break. 

i met someone who needed a favor, and i cashed one in return. 

keep missing me, or don’t. 

but we both know you do.

yours truly,

eli

— wanted connections/plots

will update when my brain decides to work. give me drama, give me love, give me heartbreak, give me enemies, i want it all.

and i am always, always, always, looking for connections. so, if you think he fits for your chara, let me know!

#wb.intro

[spicyicetea]

Ok- obligatory apology for being absent. I did say I’d have some new chapters out before February ended but I’ve been rather sick (just found I react badly to my migraine meds and it apparently runs in the family- why did no one tell me :,) ). On a better note, I’ve been using this to finally watch Jojo’s bizarre adventure, I’m currently halfway through the stardust crusaders. So JJBA fans I see you, I understand the hype… I also understand now what you mean by most people in this show are fuckable and it scares me that I now agree so quickly. I will probably try and finish watching it over the next few weeks, but I am thoroughly enjoying it. I won’t name characters but every main character death so far has made me upset.

So here comes the question I wanted to ask- are any of my fans interested in some x reader stuff? Maybe some Yandere JJBA x reader? >:). I don’t mind whether it’s just little one shots or longer multipart stories, it’s my current hyperfixation so I’m so down. I do have an idea for a much longer story that would go through all the parts with the same Y/N (ya know some reincarnation shenanigans) where the Y/N is aware of what happens and is trying to prevent the deaths the best she can, she may or may not have some extra powers to help her out as well but shhhh. Idk would anyone be interested in that. As per usual with me it would be a yandere story (I don’t and never will endorse IRL but in fiction it heals my abandonment issues ok don’t kill me-) and the updates would happen as I watch and go along with the anime. This would basically be a harem type thing. I am going to have a poll under the read more for some of the things about the Y/N character/reincarnations, if it gets enough votes I’d start writing once the poll ends. Anyways thanks for reading my jabbering.

I think all of these ideas for Y/N and her powers would lead to a fun story. Now MINORS THIS ISN’T FOR YOU I’d hope that no minors are on my page anyways but I’ll say it here- this story would/will contain smut/sexual content and Yandere behaviour, none of which is ok for anyone under 16, so MDNI.

Also a further note, for main characters who are already in a relationship, I won’t be vilifying their other halves but just saying they never got together. For characters that need to, where they have kids that are main characters later, they either would have divorced/split up or had them through a one night stand. The characters will probably already be written somewhat out of character due to the Yandere nature of the story so I’ll try and stay as accurate as I can.

(Not spelling or grammar checked- can’t be asked sorry guys)

#x reader #yandere x reader #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba x you #jjba x y/n #yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jjba x you #yandere jjba x y/n #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader

[mylovenox]

Hey everyone- idk who’s actually gonna read this but I’ve been wanting to start writing on here for awhile now and I’m probably gonna start doing it, here’s something’s about me ig

~About Me~

My name is Vinny!

⋆

I’m Transgender FTM! (He/him please babes!)

⋆

I’m not comfortable sharing my age just yet:)

⋆

My username is something old but never intended for something romantic- if anyone knows how to change usernames please let me know😭

If I do ever change my username it will be “V1nnyDinny” (let’s hope I can put it as that-)

⋆

I plan on being an Actor and I’m waiting to get put in acting classes :) (I have to learn to stop cussing all the time before my mom puts me in tho-😭🤚🏻)

ANYWAYS-

I don’t really know much about myself tbh but I’ll try to give you at least a note yeah?

⋆things I like⋆

-Stranger things

-Tokio Hotel (all of them duhh)

-the black phone

-Rodrick🙈

-fnaf (as well as the movie, like omg? The movie was great!!)

-my cats ofc?!

-SLEEP. Gn😊

~Things I’ll Write~

-Tokio Hotel (OFCCC)

-Stranger Things

-Rodrick from diary of a wimpy kid

-probably the fnaf movie too-

-my hero academia (?!)

-I might do some welcome home maybe? I’ll have to get to know a bit more about the site first!

-definitely creepypasta!

-maybe stuff with Mason Thames, Miguel Mora- yk all the black phone cast members??

That’s kinda all I like rn but I’ll always update!

⋆Stuff I Will And Won’t Write!⋆

-definitely NOT gonna write about reader getting r@ped. However I will write things like comfort from flashbacks, stuff like that

-Smut (all smut will be aged up!)

-Any type of hcs!

-OneShots

-fluff

-angst? Idk if I spelt that right💀

-comfort

-ig pretty much anything- if I’m not comfortable with it I’ll lyk ☻

I’ll do any genders and pronouns!

Male/Female/

He/him she/her they/them she/they he/they! You name it! I’ll make it happen ☻

PLEASE SEND ME REQUEST LOVES!!🙏🏻🙏🏻

(GIF from Pinterest)

#mha #the black phone #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #the grabber #finney blake #robin arellano #vance hopper #billy showalter #stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #rodrick heffley #fnaf movie #mike schmidt

[winged-midnight]

[ An audio recording is attached. ]

[ “Are we back?” Garnet asks. 

“We’re back!” Nox confirms.

“Right. Cool. Um. Update, Champion Cynthia is doing the interrogation,” Garnet explains. “We’re just here for extra security.”

“We just want to know what’s going to happen,” Nox corrects. “Champion Shirona doesn’t need extra security.”

“Shh,” Garnet whispers playfully, and Nox giggles before abruptly going quiet.

“Right. Serious face,” they say, the pitch of their voice a bit deeper than normal. 

There’s a bit of shuffling, and once it stops, Cynthia’s voice asks, “Is the recording back on?”

“Ye!” Nox replies. 

“Magnificent. It is still January 19th. Current location and time, Resort Area, 7:03 P.M. [Full name redacted] and [full name redacted] are both in present company, as well as the still unnamed member of a ‘Team Galactic.’”

“Hello,” Nox and Garnet say in unison.

“No need to sound so official,” the Galactic grunt snaps, though she sounds far more resigned than she had in the previous recording.

“It’s just for legal purposes,” Cynthia clarifies. “Don’t worry about it, you have much more pressing problems right now.”

“Whatever.”

Cynthia seems to ignore her and starts the interrogation straight away. “Name and pronouns, please.”

“You’re not getting my name. She/they, though.”

“We’ll need your name so we can address you.”

“...Call me Meteor, then.”

Cynthia lets out a long sigh. “That’s fine. Current occupation?”

“You know I’m a member of Team Galactic.”

“Do you have any other commitments.”

“...No.”

“Alright. Oh, and, by the way, I’d advise you don’t lie for the duration of this interrogation,” Cynthia says, and the telltale growl of a Pokemon punctuates that statement. 

“I swear to Arceus I’m not lying.”

“I’m not saying you are. I’m just saying Stonedrake here has proven to be quite accurate in detecting if you are.”

“...I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” There’s a slight pause. “Recording still going?”

“Yep,” Nox says.

“Thank you. Meteor, why did you join Team Galactic?”

“They pay better than what was open to me. And they don’t treat me like shit.”

“What is the purpose of Team Galactic?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“What is the purpose of Team Galactic?”

“Not fucking telling you.”

“Is that so?” There’s another growl from the background, this time a bit louder.

“You’re not gonna sic that thing on me,” Meteor scoffs. “You’ve got an image to uphold.”

“Perhaps so,” Cynthia hums. “However…”

Whatever she does, it seems to shake Meteor thoroughly. 

“Fuckin…fine. We’re making a better world. Better than this one. This horrible, horrible thing that’s our status quo? We’re changing it, and it’s going to be better. For people like me, who don’t have the status and wealth you do,” she spits. “We’re going to make everything better.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Cynthia inhales deeply, and asks, “Would this goal have any relation to why you attacked Professor [full name redacted] for her research?”

“Now that’s something I really can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Genuinely I just got sent out to do it so I did.”

“Did you not question being sent to steal research papers, of all things?”

“I’m not about to question the people who gave me a better life.”

“Alright then,” Cynthia mutters, audibly getting frustrated. She’s trying to hide it, you can tell, but the annoyance is starting to slip through. “Do you know, maybe, why Team Galactic wanted those research papers?”

“Couldn’t tell you. Not much of a scholar.” 

“Then would you happen to know the location of one of the higher ups who would know?”

There’s a sharp inhale from Meteor. “No.”

“That was a lie,” Cynthia observes calmly.

“Well, I can’t just tell you,” Meteor says, her voice starting to pitch upwards. “That’s— that’s sensitive information—”

“And it’s exactly why I’m asking.”

“I’m not—” 

“Hey, shouldn’t we lay off her a little?” Nox interjects. “Like I know Team Galactic is. Serious. But. She just works for them, and she’s still a person, we shouldn’t pressure her like this—” 

“Yeah!” Meteor says desperately. “Listen to the kid, I can’t just. I can’t just tell you—”

“Why not?” Cynthia asks, this time sounding more genuine than coldly inquisitive.

“They’d kick me out, I dunno, I’d lose it, I’d lose it all, and—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nox tries.

“Nox,” Garnet mutters, “don’t—”

“Deep breaths?” Nox continues. “Champion Shirona, respectfully, we’re not getting anywhere with the intimidation tactic. I know you probably deal with evil teams all the time by intimidating them. You’re. Really good at that. But she’s still a person and maybe we should give her a break, at least. Some water and food. I don’t think she’s eaten the whole time we’ve had custody of her.”

“...Okay you didn’t have to baby me,” Meteor protests, obviously trying to calm herself down. 

Cynthia’s silent for a bit, then finally she says. “Right. Yes. Sorry. I got…caught up in the heat of the moment. Sorry, truly. I’ll get some…water? Tea? Coffee?”

“...Coffee would be nice,” Meteor mumbles.

“And you two?” 

“I’m good,” Garnet and Nox respond in unison.

There’s a fading click-clack of heels as Cynthia walks out of the room.

Silence, for a bit, then muffled whispering in the background.

Garnet, immediately suspicious, starts, “What are you—”

“FURY SWIPES,” Meteor screams, and a Glameow screeches in affirmation. 

There’s a violent, chaotic tumbling-crackling noise and distantly you can hear Cynthia running back into the room, shouting something. Garnet curses loudly. The audio turns to loud static. ]

[ Recording ends. ]

#mid stakes pokeblogging #the galarcktic #galarcktic violence #ask to tag

[fan-ficwife]

˗ˏˋNew FanFic Creator ´ˎ˗

₊˚ପ⊹ Hello to everyone reading! My name is “fan-fic wife” and I decided to make an account to publish fan fictions of fandoms I’m in. This post will be an introduction of me, my top 3 fandoms, and extras you’ll have to read more to see ♡

★・・・・・・・・・・★

⋆ ★ About me

⋆ I’ll go into personal things about me that I think you all should know!

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

✧˚ · . My online name is Cali

˚ · . I will not be disclosing my age to anyone!!

✧˚ · . My pronouns are She/They

˚ · . I also enjoy role playing as much as fan fics

✧˚ · . I watch and read lots of stuff

˚ · . Currently on mobile but plan on getting a laptop soon

✧˚ · . I also only have tumblr for this stuff but I plan on making a tiktok, twitter, and maybe instagram for this content!!

˚ · . Will not tolerate racism, homophobia, ableism, disregarding triggers, etc.

★・・・・・・・・・・★

⋆ ★ Fandoms

⋆ I’ll talk about my top 3 fandoms I’m in, there is much more I’ll make a post on later!

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

✧˚ · . The first fandom I’m in is BTS! I’ve been an army since 2017 but I’ve been into K-Pop since 2016.

˚ · . My bias is Min Yoongi/Suga/Agust D. He’s been my favorite since I’ve gotten into BTS.

✧˚ · . I don’t have a favorite song from them since it’s so hard to choose, but my top 3 right now are Boy In Luv, Anpanman, and 21st Century Girl!

˚ · . My favorite song from Yoongi currently is Haeguem and my favorite collaboration is That That ft. Psy

✧˚ · . Last thing I wanted to put is I’ll miss them while they are in the military but they will be back in 2025! Let’s keep fighting army!

──────────────────────

✧˚ · . The next fandom I love is Alice In Borderland! I’m very into psychological horror and I like how they incorporated it into the manga and the show.

˚ · . My favorite character is Niragi, especially in the manga. It upset me how in the show he did some bad things though

✧˚ · . It’s my favorite non-drawn show, there’s a possibility for a season 3! I personally like the ending and think it’s fine but I also have unanswered questions so I wouldn’t mind a season 3.

˚ · . I got into Alice In Borderland in 2018 and read the entire manga. When the show came out in 2020 I watched season 1 but never finished season 2 when it came out until this year, 2023

✧˚ · . Lastly this show for some reason is emotionally connected to me, it’s just a hyper fixation of mine and I love it a lot

──────────────────────

✧˚ · . The last fandom I’m in is pretty broad but I a favorite it’s just not popular, it’s anime!

˚ · . I’ve been into anime since I was a kid, my first anime was Glitter Force but the first official anime I really started to watch was Fairy Tale! (Never finished it.)

✧˚ · . Currently I’m watching Neon Genesis Evangelion but I’m not too much of a fan of it, but I’ll still finish it

˚ · . I have an anime list of all the anime’s I’ve finished completely and I will post it!

✧˚ · . My favorite anime is “The Girl Who Leapt Through Time.” It’s by far amazing though it is only a movie!

˚ · . I don’t have a favorite series but I guess if I had to choose my top 5 are Hunter X Hunter, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Ouran Host Club, The Day I Became a God, and Junji Ito!!

★・・・・・・・・・・★

⋆ ★ Extras

⋆ I’ll talk about this account a bit, what I plan on posting, etc.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

✧˚ · . First, which I’ve said before, I’m only on mobile but I plan on getting a laptop soon!

˚ · . I also, again, will most likely make a TikTok and Twitter/X!! Maybe an instagram but not sure

✧˚ · . I have many fan fiction ideas in mind! I plan one writing at least one for each BTS member, but most likely there will be lots of Yoongi/Suga

˚ · . I also plan on writing at least one for each main character in Alice In Borderland, maybe some side characters I enjoy

✧˚ · . Lastly I’ll definitely be doing lots anime fan fictions, maybe one shots, etc.

˚ · . This blog will mainly be about me, memes, and updates!! I also have one of those “Question” response things where you can request things but I might make a google form for requests on TikTok and Twitter and put it in my bio, same for here on Tumblr!!

✧˚ · . Also I have CharacterAi so if y’all like the fan fiction so much I might start making bots for you all to use with my fan fiction stories !!

★・・・・・・・・・・★

˗ˏˋYou Read It! ´ˎ˗

₊˚ପ⊹ If you read all of this and are interested in anyway thank you so much! You probably saw it on here or from my TikTok that will be posted in the future lolz. I hope you all have nice days/nights and again thank you!

#intro post #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic writer #bts #bangtan #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #alice in borderland #arisu ryohei #usagi yuzuha #ann #niragi suguru #aguni #kuina #chishiya shuntaro #karube daikichi #takatora samura #anime #hunter x hunter #puella magi madoka magica #ouran high school host club #junji ito #the day i became a god #the girl who leapt through time