#but i'm fine with it. it's my fault. my mind's fault. idk i live in my own lil world most of the time n i feel too different from others | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mxmmyprentiss · 3 months

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I Miss You, I'm Sorry

Summary: Long story short, you survived without her. Her name had become a memory pushed and tucked away in the back of your mind. You locked it and threw away the key. You had stopped yourself from waiting for answers as to why she walked out on you or why she didn’t fight for you ages ago.

Well. Until now. Genre: Angst Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader Warnings: homophobia, parental abuse (?) Word count: 6.9k (I got carried away)

A/N: Hi, guys! I just made a new tumblr account and I'm new to Criminal Minds and I'm still actually just about to start season 4 lol but Emily Prentiss already got a chokehold on me and here I am. English is not my first language so any grammar/spelling/other writing mistakes, I apologize. I also have not written anything in a long, long time. Comments and criticisms are welcome.

(also emily's fbi timeline here might be a little confusing so idk lol)

AO3

Relationships don’t always work out. You have known that fact since you were seven years old as a result of your parents’ divorce. You still remember your mother saying, “Baby, sometimes love doesn’t last. Maybe it’s love for now but it won’t be love forever. Two people can grow apart even when they are together all the time. And that’s what happened with me and your dad. And honey, it’s not your fault, you understand?” And you still remember nodding as if you really understood what was happening.

But just like any other child who knew how it felt to be a product of a broken family, you still felt responsible about it. You could have done more, could have done something to prevent your family from falling apart, or at least could have done anything to stitch your family back together. But as you grow older, you learned that what if’s are only as good as heroin and cocaine combined together - it’s not. It’s lethal.

So even though your parents are still alive, you still considered them as the first ones you have lost. Accepting that has helped you cope with other things you have missed throughout your life..

Pen.

Hair ties.

Bus ticket.

Money.

Your first love.

The last one, unlike the others, was not forgotten, misplaced or stolen. The last one walked out of your life before you even had the chance to tell her you would move mountains and set the world on fire if she asked you to. What once were gentle, careful hands that held your heart are the same hands that crushed it into pieces and may have been impossible to glue it back together no matter how much you tried.

It’s fine though. It was a long time ago. You learned to live with it.

At least that’s what you told your therapist when she asked during one of your sessions.

“Come on, sugarplum.” Penelope Garcia, your roommate, tugged your arm. “It’s just drinks at the bar.”

“I’m already beat, Penny. I’ve had a long shift.”

“Exactly the reason why you need to get out and have fun, doctor. We were both so busy with work and never had fun anymore.”

“We have movie marathons sometimes.”

“Please,” Penelope scoffed. “You fall asleep in the first 30 minutes of every movie.”

You sighed. You didn’t defend yourself because it’s true. Lately, everything feels heavy. And you’re always exhausted to the point of passing out at any furniture you lay your head to.

“I’m sorry, Pen.”

Penelope cups your face and forces you to look at her. She has the most gentle, caring eyes when she wants it to be. Curious and determined, most of the time. “Hey, I’m not saying those aren’t fun, okay? I’m just saying maybe we need a change of environment. Get loose. Have a few drinks and maybe meet some people and dance. That’s all.”

“I don’t know these people,” you said defeatedly.

“And you don’t know your patients either but you’re forced to interact with them anyway.” Penelope squeezed your cheeks before letting go. “They’re my friends as much as you are mine, sweet cheeks. I’ll introduce you to them and who knows. You might end up liking them too.”

There’s no winning against your roommate. So you finally agreed and Penelope pranced to her room to change.

Since tonight seemed to be about changes, you decided to put on a skin tight knee-length blue dress that complimented your curves and skin along with a light denim blazer. You matched it with black printed flats and a purse Penelope gifted you last Christmas.

You and Penelope walked hand in hand to the bar. She told you briefly about everyone’s first names but you’re not sure if you will remember them all as you haven’t seen their faces just yet. Also, Penelope talks too fast when she’s excited and your brain just cannot process it as quickly knowing how tired you are.

You both stopped at the door, scanning the place and saw a booth on the far end of the bar. Penelope waved at the people on the table and everyone happily greeted Penelope. You felt a little at ease that they were all wearing casual clothes and looked a little less scary compared to what they actually do for a living.

“Everyone, this is my roommate, Y/N,” Penelope introduced you to the team. And pointing from left to right, she said, “This is Hotch, Derek, Reid and JJ.” They all waved at you. Reid stood up and shook your hand. He insisted you can call him Spencer and babbled something about an article he read the other day that he remembered because you’re wearing a blue dress. You stared at him, fascinated albeit confused. Derek chuckles and pulls Reid next to him.

“Hey, guys, here’s our dri-”

A pause.

A stare.

Your heart skipped a beat. Or two. Or maybe it stopped for God knows how long.

One of the glasses of beer almost fell out of the raven-haired woman’s hands. Luckily, JJ caught it, looking back and forth between the two of you.

“Emily, you are an angel.” Penelope snatched three glasses out of her friend’s hand. “Y/N, this is Emily.”

It took you a second - or ten - before you reached out your hand for a handshake and forced a smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” Your jaw started to hurt at how tight you’re clenching them but you can’t help it.

She’s here.

Emily took your hand and for a brief second, you felt her squeeze it harder than you would normally do for a handshake. “Emily,” was all she said and sat to Penelope’s right.

Everyone grabbed their drinks. The music at the bar grew loud and they talked even louder to understand each other. Derek and Reid debated about something work-related that you didn’t understand but Derek rolling his eyes at Reid whenever he stated facts amused you. Meanwhile, Penelope showed something to JJ and Emily on her phone and you just hope it’s not something embarrassing because you caught the glance JJ shoots at you and she giggled.

“What are you showing them, Pen?” you asked curiously.

“Nothing,” she grinned. “I’m just showing them how pretty my best friend is.”

You squint, not believing a word she just said. Your hands were quick to snatch the phone from her hand. “Penelope Garcia!” Even with the dim lighting, your blush was evident. It’s a photo of you sleeping in your kitchen, hugging a stainless pot and holding a wooden spatula. You don’t remember that happening. “When was this and why are you keeping this picture?”

Penelope laughed. “You don’t remember so I’m not going to remind you.”

You immediately deleted it off her phone. “Now it’s gone.”

She raised her eyebrows and let out a chuckle, “You forget I work in tech?”

You mumbled a curse and rolled your eyes, accepting defeat.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. It’s cute.” JJ teased and you could only force a smile in embarrassment.

Out of nowhere, Penelope gulped down her entire drink and stood. “Come on, let’s get dancing! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

Everyone followed her. Even Hotch who seems to not like the idea but Derek practically pushed him to the dance floor.

Everyone except Emily.

Her.

And you.

You two were left at the booth, sitting across from each other. Emily was gripping her glass. Hard. You believed she might break it if she didn't relax.

You averted your eyes from Emily. It’s ridiculous to not find anything to stare at other than Emily’s hands.

Emily’s beer.

Emily’s hair.

Emily’s clothes.

Emily’s necklace.

Why is this place full of her?

The place was full and crowded and the music was so loud but the silence between you two? That was louder. Deafening. Unsettling. Awkward.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Emily said, finally managing to look you in the eye again.

Your breath hitched once, twice, before answering, “You too.”

And you meant it. But you didn’t want to.

Oh, but you did.

She chugged her beer and grimaces the second she does. “I … I didn’t know you and Penelope are friends.”

“I didn’t know you and Penelope are co-workers either.” You shrugged. “How long have you been with the FBI?”

“Seven years,” she answered.

Penelope called your name from the dance floor where she was dancing with Morgan. You only gave her a thumbs up to let her know you’re fine and will be staying at the booth.

“You’re staring,” you said and Emily quickly diverted her eyes from you. She decided the floor was a better view instead. You licked your lips to keep yourself from smiling. “It’s okay, you know.”

“What?”

“I said it’s okay.”

“What’s okay?”

“If you want to pretend like we don’t know each other.” But the agonizing tug in your chest claimed otherwise. “I mean, they’re your friends and Pen is your friend as much as she’s mine. She doesn’t have to know. She just brought me here tonight so we could have fun and meet you guys.”

To your surprise, Emily moved to sit next to you. Not really next to you but just close enough to smell her perfume.

Velvety.

Delicious.

Familiar.

You inhaled deeply, composed yourself, and stole Penelope’s second beer.

“How have you been, Y/N?”

The shiver that ran down your spine shouldn’t be there when Emily said your name. It shouldn’t have affected you that much. Or at all. But it did. And you despised it.

“Since you left me? Great.” You laughed quietly, staring at the glass now half empty. “Really great. I … I’m well … a resident doctor …” You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. I just …”

“You didn’t expect to see me, I get it.”

“Yeah.”

There’s the awkward silence again. If it doesn’t stop sooner, you think you might just bang your head against the table just to shift the mood.

“I tried to find you,” Emily spoke again. Her voice was low, you almost miss what she said. “I came back but you weren’t there anymore. Your mom said you already moved to LA with your dad and -”

“I don’t want to do this here, Emily. Please.” You just can’t. You might cause a scene if you keep this up. You’re still torn between crying hysterically or just downright screaming at her face.

But her face. Her stupid, fucking perfect face.

You looked away. You focused on the people dancing specifically at Penelope grinding against Reid who’s only swaying awkwardly. That’s better.

Emily scooted closer to you but not close enough to invade your personal space still. “Do you hate me?”

You wanted to be rude. Tell her what does it look like, bitch? But that’s just not you. You’re not a confrontational woman. You’re an honest woman. And to be honest, you’re feeling a lot.

Instead, you gulped a drink and stared at it for a while, leaving Emily staring at your hand, waiting for an answer that may never come.

It took a few minutes for you to gather the strength to look her in the eyes. Your eyes may have been teary, you’re not sure, but everything else looks blurry and you feel lightheaded. You’re not even drunk yet. You only had two beers, for fuck’s sake.

You missed those eyes. Emily’s kind, loving, gentle, ‘used to see right through you’ eyes.

“You left me,” was all that came out of your mouth.

Emily moved closer to your seat, dark eyes still locked on yours as if asking for permission. “I was scared. I was young, Y/N.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “And I wasn’t? Your mother literally hired a private investigator to threaten me so I would stay away from you! I was 17, Emily! 17!” You hissed. Emily tried to reach out for your hand but you got up quickly and ran to the dance floor, to your friend.

You whispered to Penelope’s ear that you needed to leave immediately to cover an emergency shift at the hospital. She knew better than to argue with you and your work so she let you go and told you not to worry about the tab. She offered to call you an uber but you insisted on walking since the hospital is only a few blocks away.

“Y/N, wait!”

“Emily, not now!” Your strides were getting bigger and you wished you could just fly home instead and get there faster. She grabbed your arm, pulling you to the side. And although it’s already dark outside, Emily can’t miss the way your eyes glisten with tears, staining your cheeks. “Please, Emily, just please.” You didn’t know what you’re actually asking - begging - her. You weakly placed a hand to her stomach and pushed to keep a little distance between the both of you.

Emily took your shivering hand and held it to her chest instead. Her hands were as soft as you remembered them to be. And you hated the fact that you still remember that after so many years. “Please, Y/N, let me just talk to you.”

“What’s there to talk about? We made it this far in life without each other.” You said bitterly.

“But we didn’t want to.” She sighed. “At least, not for me.”

You took a deep breath in. Emily wiped the tears with her thumbs. Then she cupped your face and you couldn’t help but to just feel her for a minute, face settling on her warm hands. You look at her, eyes pleading. “Em, please.”

Emily shuddered at the nickname. You were - are - the only one who could make it sound so soft and loved; make it sound like home. After all this time.

“Emily?” You both looked at the sound of Penelope’s voice. You quickly retracted your hand from Emily’s. “Y/N? You’re still here?”

“I, uh, Emily here just brought me my purse because I forgot.” You lied. Emily swallowed whatever she was about to say. You turned to Emily. “Thanks. I have to go now.”

“Oh, okay.”

You hailed a cab and got out as fast as you can, leaving Emily dumbfounded and Penelope confused as she was intrigued.

___

Emily rubbed her hands together and exhaled loudly. Penelope raised her eyebrow. “What did you do?” She asked.

“What? I didn’t do anything.”

“For an FBI agent, you’re a bad liar right now, honey.” She squinted and took a closer look at Emily’s eyes. Teary. “Were you two making out?”

Emily scoffed. “You’re drunk, Garcia.”

“And you’re hiding something, Prentiss.”

“I’m not!” Penelope continued to stare at her suspiciously, pressing the truth out of her. “Okay, I think you should talk to her first. I can’t be the one to tell you if she doesn’t want to.”

“Did you know Y/N before I brought her here? I saw that you two were surprised to see each other a while ago. There was something there. It doesn’t take a profiler to see it.”

Emily paced back and forth, biting her lip, arms crossed. She stopped herself from biting her nails, a habit she may have done when she’s anxious. Emily contemplated whether to tell Penelope everything or something or anything. “God, I think I need something stronger than the drinks in the bar.”

“I’m waiting here, pudding.”

“And I’m thinking here.” She kept her pace. Then stopped. Emily takes a deep breath. “Y/N is … well, she was … is … I think …” she rambled, hands in her pockets. Emily looked up to keep the tears pooling in her eyes from falling. “Garcia, she’s the love of my life.” She stated weakly.

Penelope gaped at Emily like a deer caught in headlights.

___

Penelope arrived home at around 2:30 in the morning. You heard the lock click and footsteps approaching your door. You quickly pulled the covers above your head and pretended to sleep soundly.

“Y/N?” It’s your roommate. She caressed your foot. “I just want to say I’m sorry for bringing you out there tonight. I … I didn’t know you and … her …” Penelope sighed sadly. “We can talk about it when you’re ready or whenever you want or not at all. It’s up to you really. I just want to say I’m sorry.” She gave a light pat to your leg. “Good night, sweetie.”

___

The next morning, you found Penelope sitting in the kitchen having coffee and talking to someone on her laptop. You didn’t interrupt her, suspecting she might be working from home.

You prepared coffee for yourself and sat on the opposite end of the table. You pretended to scroll on your phone … waiting …

“Morning, baby girl,” Penelope finally decided to break the silence.

“Morning, Pen.”

“So …” There it was. You have known her for a long time to know that nothing - not even the strongest of hangover - is stronger than her inquisitiveness. “Want to talk about the elephant in the room?”

You took a deep breath.

“I’m not forcing you, Y/N. I’m just asking if you’re ready because if you’re not, it’s fi -”

“And let you die of curiosity?” You hid your smirk behind your mug. Penelope smiled widely. “Did she tell you about me?”

“Emily?” You roll your eyes as if to say who else? “We haven’t had the chance to talk about our personal lives before but last night, she told me two things actually.”

“Oh?”

“One, that it might be better if I get the dirt from you. And two …” Penelope pauses, grinning. Is she actually pausing for dramatic effect?

“Spit it out, Penny.”

“I’m not sure if you want to know.”

“Just say it.”

“That you were -” Your friend shook her head. “ ARE. You are the love of her life.”

Oh.

There it was again. That tug in your chest. Are you dying? Maybe. You needed to get this checked out one of these days at the hospital, you thought. You might need an ECG or probably a 2D echo.

“Is it true?” Penelope pushed. “How did you two know each other?”

You walked to the living room with your coffee and sat on the couch. Penelope follows you.

“That love of her life part, I’m not sure.” You took a sip of your coffee. Black and bitter. “We met in high school. She was my girlfriend.”

Penelope scooted closer. “What happened?”

“Well, long story short -”

“No, I want the long complete detailed version, love bug.” You rolled your eyes at her and she smacked your arm. “You’ve been holding out on me!”

“Hey! I didn’t know my ex is working with you, okay?”

“Still! Everything really does happen for a reason.” She smiled to herself.

You raised an eyebrow. “And what’s the reason for this then?”

“We’ll see,” Penelope smirked. “Now, go on with the story, girlfriend.”

“We met in high school. She was a transferee. I was, well, an introvert with no friends. She was the new girl. I’m sure you know where I’m going with this.” You see Penelope with a shit-eating grin, nodding her head. “It took a week before I could say a word to her.”

“Because you’re so gay and she’s a pretty girl?” Penelope grinned.

You glared at her. “Because I was an introvert.”

“Sure.”

“Anyway, she missed a class and asked if she wanted my notes and she said yes. We have been friends from then on.”

“Until…?”

“She was the first one to say ‘I love you’, you know?” Tears started pooling in your eyes. You immediately wiped it off with the end of your sweater before it even stained your cheeks. “We were in the locker room. Just the two of us after gym class. It was out of nowhere. We just finished showering -”

“Together?” Penelope gasped scandalously. You swatted her arm and she laughed. “I’m kidding.”

“Anyway, we just finished showering and she said she loved me. You have to understand that it was a time when you know … it’s not accepted nor tolerated to be … us.” Penelope took your hand and squeezed it. She could only sympathize, knowing how cruel and tough the world must be to not let people love who they love. “We hid it for a year, maybe two. I’m really not sure now, I think, but it was the longest time of my life. We were okay, great even. We had the most fun, enjoying each other’s company, sneaking around, going on dates. My mom met her. She liked her. Always asked about her when I get home.” You smile at the memory now but it quickly fades. “Until her mother found out about us.”

“Ambassador Prentiss? Oh, that evil -”

“Her mother sent a P.I. to threaten me so I would stay away from her daughter. I was 17 years old and scared, what else can I do?”

“Oh, honey,” Your friend pulled you into a hug. “I’m sorry the world has not been kind to you, sunshine.”

“Thanks, Penny.”

“You two broke up after that?”

You shook your head. “I was about to ask Emily what we should do. I was ready to run away, to hide, to go anywhere with her. I messaged her to meet me at the gym locker room after class the next day but she never showed up at the school at all.” Penelope noticed your trembling hands and gently caressed them. “I found out from the faculty that she moved overseas.”

“Thank you for sharing this with me. I know it’s hard for you, honey bun.”

“I just didn’t expect to see her last night … or ever. I stopped myself from looking for her again. Turns out, life has funny comebacks.” You chuckled bitterly. Penelope enveloped you in a tight hug until her phone rings. You giggle, “Work is calling you, badass computer nerd.”

___

When Penelope reached the BAU, Emily was the first one to spot her. She ran towards her, following Penelope to her office.

“Fabulous morning, person who hurt my roommate.” Penelope greeted without looking at Emily to which she replied with an eye roll. “Y/N told me everything.”

“Y/N told you everything about what?” Suddenly the two women stopped on their tracks and turned around. It’s JJ with take-out coffees in one hand and files on the other. “Come on, ladies. Share it with the team.”

“No!” They simultaneously yelled.

“Okay, chill.” JJ handed them each their coffees. “Share it with me. I’ll find out about it anyway.”

Penelope dragged the two women into her lair. Once locked inside, Penelope announced, “Y/N is your ex!”

“Garcia!” Emily hushed her.

JJ’s eyes were wide and almost spitted out her coffee. “I knew there was something!”

“What?” Emily looked genuinely confused.

“Emily, we’re profilers. We see everything.” JJ reminded her. “You were so awkward with her last night. I assume you guys haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“15 years.”

“And it’s still that awkward?” JJ scoffed unbelievably. “Must have been a bad break up.”

“Technically, they didn’t break up but Agent Prentiss here left my friend without saying goodbye.” Penelope squinted her eyes at Emily, arms folded and eyebrows raised.

Emily’s face was almost as red as her blouse now. “I didn’t … I didn’t want to.”

“Then why did you?”

“It’s com-”

A knock interrupted the ladies’ gossip session. “Ladies, Hotch wants us in the briefing room ASAP.” Morgan told them.

“Be right there!” JJ replied. “We’ll continue this later. Over drinks. Just the three of us. Ladies’ night.”

Emily saw no way out of this so she just nodded.

___

It was a terribly bad day at work. The ER was filled with too many people. Patients kept on coming without showing signs of slowing down. Every bed was occupied - some were already in the hallway in wheelchairs - and everyone had something to do. You have not had breakfast or lunch yet. Your cup of coffee left cold at the doctor’s quarters which you’re sure someone threw out already.

Sometimes you wonder why you chose this career instead of just pursuing your love for multimedia arts.

“Doc,” a senior nurse called you. “I have your patient’s labs and ECG right here.” She hands you the chart. “X-ray results are to follow. Let me know if you’ll be requesting more. Bed 5.”

“Okay.” You walked towards the bed, reviewing your patient's chart. Name … age …

Name?

Now the world was playing a prank on you.

“Emily Prentiss?” You call your patient’s name as soon as you draw the curtains. Emily looked up to you, lying on the bed, beaming too much for someone who’s injured. There’s a small stain of blood on her tank top. You felt something stuck in your throat as worry fills your thoughts yet you retain your poker face.

“Y/N?”

“Dr. Y/F/N, resident. I’m,” you cleared your throat. You put down the chart on the bedside table. “I’m here to examine you. Can you tell me what happened?”

Emily adjusted herself on the bed with a grimace. “I got shot. Almost. I was wearing a vest but I think it left a graze.” Emily lifted her top to show you. You don your gloves and inspect the wound closely, pressing softly at the area. You suspect she might have taken more than one close hit from the way the graze looked. Your eyes panned to her eyes staring at your hands.

“Did you get hit elsewhere, Agent?”

“No,” Emily shook her head. But your eyes found fresh bruises on both of her arms. “It’s fine, doesn’t hurt.”

“You’re always a tough cookie, agent?”

“I have to be.”

“Of course.” You assessed the rest of her body, especially her head for any bumps or cuts. Apart from the bullet graze on her chest and the bruises on her arms, you didn’t find anything else worthy of concern or emergency so far. “Do you feel anything else? Any pain?”

Emily had many answers to that but she bit her tongue. It’s not the time and place. She shook her head instead.

“Okay, I’ll get someone to clean and dress your wound. I’ll order an intravenous painkiller. It will take care of the first six hours, at least, but I’ll also prescribe you some oral painkillers and have your home care instructions ready. Do you have someone I can talk to?”

“I, uh, I think JJ is around somewhere. Or Reid.”

“Any relatives?”

“They’re all I have.” There was a small pause. “We take care of each other.”

“Yeah, of course. Part of the job.” You wrote your initial reports on her chart before leaving. “So, uh … I’ll call the nurse.” You turned around but Emily grabbed the end of your coat. “Anything else, Agent Prentiss?”

“Can you, if it’s not too much to ask, can you do the IV thing? I just …”

“You hate needles.” I know.

She nodded. “Please?”

Fuck. How can you say no when she’s looking at you with those eyes? Dark, pleading and consuming.

You can lie and tell her you have other patients to attend to but so far, no nurse had called you yet. You hear another resident had come in, too.

Emily’s eyes and hand were still on you.

“Okay,” you finally said. “I’ll be right back.”

Just your dumb, stupid luck.

___

Your shift ended at around 10pm but it’s almost midnight when you got out of the hospital. You already changed your top into a purple t-shirt. You carried your bags, coat hanging on your arm, as you walked to your car. You couldn’t wait to go home and wash off the busy day you had.

You stopped by to take out Chinese food for you and Penelope and a little extra to reheat tomorrow for breakfast.

You heard the TV as you approached the door. Penelope must still be awake and watching a show. You opened the door with your keys and to your surprise, one of your patients today was sitting on your couch. Your eyes met briefly.

“Hey, sweetie pie!” Penelope cornered you and grabbed hold of the take-outs. “Let me talk to you for a minute.” Penelope excused herself and you, dragging you to the kitchen. “I’m sorry Emily’s here but somebody’s got to take care of her and she lives alone. I figured since you’re here and you’re a doctor, this will be the safest choice. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“No.” Your roommate grinned widely.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Then it’s fine. I’m going to my room. I had a long day.”

“But aren’t you going to eat? You can watch TV with us.”

“I lost my appetite.” You mumbled. You walked to your room and Emily caught you on the way. She stopped in front of you. “What?”

“I’m sorry for staying. The team insisted and -”

“It’s fine, Agent Prentiss.”

Emily frowned. “You don’t have to be so formal.”

“I’m sorry but I’m really tired. I just want to go to bed.”

“Okay, sorry,” She stepped to the side and you walked past her. “Y/N?” You looked back at her. “Thank you for today.”

You flashed her a small smile.

___

You woke up the next morning to a loud scream. You quickly got up and ran to the living room. Your hair still disheveled and pajama pants hanging a little low.

“Is there a fire?” You asked, confused and half awake.

“Sorry for waking you, sunshine. But I cannot do this.” Penelope handed you a gauze, medical tape and scissors. “Help us, oh sweet lord of ER.”

You yawned then sat next to Emily. You disinfected your hands with alcohol and proceeded to clean her wound with povidone-iodine. She winces a little. “Hurts?”

“A little.”

“Well, it’s supposed to.”

“Wow, aren’t you grumpy in the morning.” Emily teased, earning a glare from you and a slightly painful poke. “Ow! Hey, be gentle please. I’m already hurt.” She pouted.

“You have a dangerous job. Couldn’t you be more careful?” You retorted, annoyed.

“Well, I’m sorry the UnSub has a gun and tried to kill me.”

You ignored her mumbling. “Do you have the day off?”

“Hotch gave me the week off.” Emily answered, clearly disappointed. “I can’t believe my doctor suggested a week's rest. It’s not even that bad, right?”

You bit the inside of your cheeks. “And you know better than your doctor?”

Emily smiled. “I guess not.”

You finished cleaning up her wound and changing the dressing. You picked up an ice pack from the fridge and handed it to her. “Ice your bruises. No more than 15 minutes at a time.”

“Yes, doc.”

“Don’t call me doc.”

“You’re a doctor.”

“We’re not in the hospital.”

Emily leaned forward, a little too close to your face. “What should I call you then?”

Up close, you noticed her lower lip has a small cut while her upper lip … well, there’s nothing wrong with it.

You tried not to focus too much on her lips. Tried is the keyword.

Then, you suddenly felt like your ghost floated above you and gave the back of your head a cold hard slap. Your eyes quickly darted up to her own brown orbs, intently staring back at you.

“I’d rather you not call me anything at all.” You said firmly and got up. Emily watched you march back to your room. A small smirk formed on Emily’s face.

You lied on your bed. Heart pounding, head somewhat dizzy, cheeks flushed.

Fuck Emily Prentiss and her stupid, stupid, tempting lips.

___

The three of you ended up watching your second classic film one afternoon with Penelope sitting between you and Emily. You didn’t like the movie that much honestly. You walked to the kitchen to make yourself your favorite drink - soda with vanilla ice cream.

“You still like that huh?” Emily sneaked up behind you. “It’s diabetes in a glass.”

“Guilty.” You took a sip. “It’s my comfort drink.”

“It sure is.”

“What do you need? Ice?”

“You, actually.”

“Why? Something hurts?”

“Nothing you can heal.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious.”

“So am I, Y/N.” Emily stepped closer to you. “I was wondering if we can finally have a talk.”

“We’re watching a movie.”

“Penelope’s just fine.” You both glanced at Penelope who turned her head back to the TV at breakneck speed.

“She put you up to this huh?” You took a seat and you gestured to Emily to do the same. There’s no use avoiding ‘the talk’ anyway as it looks like Emily might live here for the whole week whether you liked it or not. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

“Us?”

Emily ran her hands through her hair, not knowing where to start. “I didn’t want to leave.”

Fifteen years.

It’s been fifteen years since you last saw Emily. Both of you were still kids - young, innocent, carefree, hopeful. The day Emily left your life, you were a wreck. You did good at school, acing exams after exams, and eventually got to medical school on partial scholarship. Outside, you tried to be the perfect little golden daughter your parents and teachers expected you to be. Inside? You were empty. You felt as if you’re a shallow case of a person.

The first five years since Emily left, you graduated from high school. You got multiple part time jobs before applying to universities. In between those busy times, you tried to find her - called her up on her phone every single day for three years, wrote letters to her last known address every month for two years. Once, you even tried to sneak into their house but the security guard spotted you and almost caught you. You almost had a bald spot from the security grabbing your hair.

By the sixth year since Emily had gone, you stopped. You realized it’s not healthy anymore. You were holding on to a ghost. So you learned to live the next years of your life without her. After finishing your degree in biochemistry, you moved to LA with your father. You got yourself into UCLA and pursued medicine.

The med school journey wasn’t a smooth ride at all. Yes, you didn’t fail one subject during med school but the harder part came later - the actual practice. You struggled with a lot of things but mostly socializing with different people - strangers - whose life depended on you and your capabilities.

It was only five years ago that you finally started to feel somewhat confident with yourself. Not perfect but you weren’t getting yelled at as much by the attendings anymore. A senior resident even complimented your improvement which meant a lot to you.

Long story short, you survived without her.

Her name had become a memory pushed and tucked away in the back of your mind. You locked it and threw away the key. You had stopped yourself from waiting for answers as to why she walked out on you or why she didn’t fight for you ages ago.

Well.

Until now.

“Y/N,” Emily placed her hand on top of yours and you were quick to retract it. It was a reflex at this point. “Sorry.” She kept her hands under the table. “I know apologizing won’t erase anything that happened to us but I’m really sorry, love.”

“Don’t call me that.” You clenched your jaw. “Just tell me why.”

“She, my mother … she took me to the Middle East when she found out about us. I should have known, I should have seen, that we were being followed by her men every time we went out. She tossed the photos - our photos - to my face. She called me disgusting and immoral and a fucking disappointment all because I loved you.” The last part came out as a mumble but you caught it.

Your eyebrows relaxed, eyes softened. The waterworks in your eyes were threatening to fall again. Damn it.

How would a 17-year-old expect this from her own mother? How was she supposed to know?

“She had all your information and your family’s and I was so afraid that she would come for you.” Emily continued, now looking down at her hands, trembling in fear and probably embarrassment of being vulnerable and open. “I knew she would come for you. She told me so. I will set that girl straight if that’s what it takes, that’s what she said. And you have no idea how that sentence scarred me until now.” Emily takes a deep shuddering breath. “The thought of you being hurt because of me … us … I couldn’t bear that, Y/N. I had to protect you so I made her swear to leave you alone and in exchange I will follow whatever she wanted me to do, whatever she wanted me to be.” Emily glanced back up to you, eyes defenseless and face flushed. “I just want you alive and safe.”

“Emily …”

“You don’t have to forgive me now or ever if you don’t want to. Or if you can’t. That’s okay. I can live with that … I think.” Your ex-girlfriend sat up straight, faked a smile. “But I want you to know that when I got to the Bureau, I did look for you.”

Your eyes met. And from what Penelope was seeing from the living room, everything was evident: the longing, the pain, the memories.

“I found out you got into med school in LA. I was so happy for you, you know that. I knew you would make it. I remember you wanted to be a surgeon at first but then you said you liked kids so maybe pedia -”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“I couldn’t … I wanted to, Y/N. I have wanted so badly for years. But when I remember about what I put you through, what my mother put you -”

“Us,” you corrected. “What your mother put us through.”

Emily nodded. “I just couldn’t ruin your life like that again.”

“Do you still talk to her? Your mother.”

“Not anymore. We haven’t been in contact since the last case she brought to the FBI.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Can’t miss someone you don’t know.”

You gave her a sad smile. “You’re strong, Emily.”

“Sometimes I think it’s a curse.”

“It will take some time,” you mumbled. Emily stared at you, waiting for what you meant. “Forgiving you, I mean.”

“I know. You don’t have to.”

“But I understand, Emily. I understand now.”

You shared a friendly smile. You leaned forward to wipe the tear from Emily’s cheek.

Emily held your wrist, feeling your hand on her cheek. You two stayed like that for a few seconds. You were the first one to let go but before going, you left a tender kiss on her forehead to which Emily closed her eyes, feeling your lips against her skin for the first time in a long time.

The moment was almost ruined when you and Emily heard a shriek from the living room and saw Penelope stuffing her mouth with ice cream. Clearly, she saw everything.

You and Emily chuckled.

“Em,” you softly whispered. “I’m sorry too.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Sorry the world wasn’t kind. To you. To us.”

Emily frowned. “It’s not your fault.”

None of this was your fault or Emily’s as it turns out. Now that everything was out in the open, a blossoming hope grew in your heart as you looked at Emily. All the sadness, anger and pain you felt the first time you laid eyes on her at the bar, you felt that diffusing quickly.

Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

To just kiss her. Just once. Again.

Or hug her.

You don’t know. All you know is that you missed her. And although she looked much older than you remembered her to be - so are you - you still remembered looking at her eyes all those years ago. At the locker room. During classes. At the carnival. At the mall. In your childhood room. The street two blocks away from her house.

Emily stood up, eye level with yours, as if she read your mind. She leaned forward. Your lips now close to hers that you can feel her take a breath. She waited for you to pull away or to ran to your room but you didn’t. The next thing you know was Emily closing the gap between both of your lips.

The kiss was soft. Like the first time when you were two young girls at the locker room the first time she told you that she loves you. Yet, it was also intoxicating, exciting. You felt a jolt of electricity running through your whole body.

The kiss was also quick. It was done before you know it.

Emily flashed a smile. “I’d like to do that again.”

“Me too,” You mentally kicked yourself at how quick you responded to that.

“Let me take you out on a date sometime.”

How can you say no to her?

The answer is you don’t.

“I’d like that, Em.”

“Friday? 10pm? I’ll pick you up?”

“It’s like you know my work schedule.”

“Lucky guess,” Emily smirked. “Let’s go before Penelope dies of excitement. She’s literally red and might combust.”

“Don’t worry, I’m here if she codes.” You share a laugh.

You couldn’t wait for Friday to come.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss angst #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss #paget brewster x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #jaye writes #emily prentiss x female reader

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wytybbyds · 5 months

Text

He won’t tho

(pic is swdwcdsbb on pinterest)

Pairings - Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary - Topper is clumsy

Warnings - talk of blood, reader getting hurt, overprotective Rafe

A/n - idk just popped into my mind

”Fuck!” Blood ran down your hand and onto the fruit on the cutting board. The now crimson clad knife clattered against the counter when you dropped it.

”Oh shit, I'm sooo sorry!” Topper had his hands raised in the air as he saw the blood coating almost your whole hand.

”Ah shit.” You quickly reached for a towel as you pressed it against the wound. In an attempt to stop the bleeding.

”What the fuck?” Rafe reached your side quickly as he entered the kitchen, seeing you hurt. His big hands wrapped around yours, the blood immediately staining his skin too.

”What happened?” He sounded angry and he looked over at Topper who without a doubt was involved, seemingly stressed.

”Uh.. I'm so sorry, I uh.. didn't know she had a knife and I uh.. just uh.. bumped into her.” Topper tripped over his own words. You shot him a reassuring smile to try to get him to calm down.

Rafe leads you over to the sink where he removes the towel and brings your hand under the tab. Turning the water on to let it rinse the blood off. You watch as the blood runs down your hand and into the drain. A big cut between your index finger and thumb reveals itself and you cringe at how deep it is.

”Wait here.” Rafe commands as he disappears out of the kitchen. Topper comes up to your side now, looking at your hand. Blood already starting to seep from the cut again.

”Fuck im so sorry.”

”Topper it’s chill, it's not even your fault.” You say reassuringly.

It wasn't his fault. Your hand gripped the knife as you were cutting up some mango. Topper was opening the refrigerator behind you grabbing another beer. As he babbled on about god knows what, flinging his arms around to get his point through.

As he stumbled around he bumped into you, pushing you forward against the counter. To catch yourself, you needed your hands. The hand wrapped around the handle of the knife was pushed down making you not just cut into the fruit but also your hand in the process.

Rafe stomped back into the kitchen with band aids. Making Topper instantly get out of his way and leave the room. He grabbed your hand and started to patch up the wound.

”Thanks.” You smile up at him.

”You okay?” When he was done his right hand went up to push a few strands of hair behind your ear. His thumb rubbing your cheek.

”Yeah, I'm fine. Just a scratch.” He licked his lips, his hand staying by your ear. But the movement of his thumb stops.

”The next time he pulls some shit like that I'll beat his ass up.” You frowned at his words that came out as a quiet mumble. His hand still on the side of your face as you pulled away slightly.

”He didn't pull anything tho’.” Rafe chuckled his hand leaving the side of your face and grabbing the wrist of your patched up hand. He brought it up to your face level, making a point for you to look at it.

”This look like nothing to you?” He shook your wrist in his hand a little, empathizing his words.

”He didn't mean to.” You purse your lips at him. It made you confused that he reacted this way. You couldn't quite understand how this was such a big deal and why it all needed to be blamed on Topper.

”Why are you defending him?” He looked confused, almost a little hurt and that made you even more confused at his reaction.

”Because he didn't do anything, it's not like he tried to hurt me on purpose.” You said the words slowly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes searched his, trying to get him to understand.

”I'll live.” You chuckled lightly as he didn't respond. Trying to light up his mood.

“He won't tho.”

#rafe cameron x reader #fanfic #obx #overprotective #rafe cameron

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cassiaratheslytherpuff · 1 month

Note

How about James and Sirius telling each other what they would reward the other with for every O they get in their n.e.w.t.s.? 👀 They always motivate each other to get even better at basically anything. Both with their competency kink hehe

Competency kink, my beloved! <3 Thanks for the prompt! (idk if it's still Friday everywhere, but where I'm at I made it in time)

“I’m so bored with these exams,” James said, forcing back a yawn and flopping back onto the sofa in the Gryffindor common room. “It’s not like we really need them for anything.”

Remus looked up from his book, and James could have sworn his eye twitched. “You’re bored?” he demanded, clutching his quill in a death grip.

James shrugged. “Yeah. Everyone’s busy studying and have a complete meltdown at even the hint of noise. So, I’m bored.”

Peter, who James had thought was fully asleep, but who had apparently just been trying to absorb the information in the book he’d been using as a pillow by osmosis, sat up. “You could always study like the rest of us?”

James shrugged. He didn’t really need to. He knew everything well enough, and he could never make his brain focus on revising something when he already mostly knew it.

Sirius snorted, clearly seeing James’s thoughts without him having to say anything. “The day Prongs starts revising of his own free will is the day I start wishing I was sorted Slytherin.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I can’t help but notice you’re not revising either.”

“Can’t be arsed,” Sirius said, offering an easy shrug.

“You couldn’t be arsed to come flying either,” James said. “So really it’s all your fault I’m bored.”

Remus slammed his book shut and James jumped. “If you’re not going to study, will you please shut up? I’m trying to concentrate.”

“I can’t study, I’m too bored,” James insisted.

“Make it interesting then,” Peter offered. He still had a crease on his cheek from the book he’d been sleeping on, and he was starting to look a little frayed around the edges. “You and Sirius can have a contest. Whoever gets more O’s wins something.”

Sirius sat up straighter. “Oh, I like that. What should we win?”

James studied him, feeling his interest rise. The thing was, he wasn’t bothered about his own NEWTS, but the thought of Sirius using that brilliant mind to outshine literally everyone simply because he could was an attractive one.

“If you get all O’s I’ll do that thing,” James offered. “You know, the one we talked about last week?” He shot Sirius a satisfied smirk when his eyes widened.

“The, er,” Sirius looked around the room, “the thing thing?”

He looked at James’s chest and James nodded.

Sirius grinned. “Oh, I’m getting all O’s.”

“And if I do?” James asked.

Sirius stood and walked over to James. He leaned down, and breathed so quietly into James’s ear that he almost missed what he was saying.

“If you get all O’s I’ll tie you to our bed and eat you out until you’re coming untouched.”

“Oh,” James said, feeling a thrill of arousal at the promise. “Yeah, I’m getting all O’s too.”

Remus groaned. “I’m glad you’ve found motivation to academically crush us all, but if you’re going to be studying now will one of you please explain to me exactly why you can’t vanish animals or insects, but plants are fine? They’re all living organisms, right?”

Sirius shrugged and jumped into an explanation, and James realised he’d made a terrible mistake because he wanted his reward so now, he actually had to study. But listening to Sirius easily explaining advanced Charms made him want nothing more than to pull him upstairs so he could listen to Sirius saying that exact same thing while breathless and moaning.

#hot prongsfoot friday #prongsfoot #james x sirius #cassiwrites #ask #prongsfoot fanfic #cassifics

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pompadorbz · 3 months

Text

q!phil is fascinating to me because when like. removed from the fuckin. qsmp universe itself phil is just being a goofy guy. a silly jokester. The smiling grinner knows the world's its dinner. but if you like. read everything he does as being a part of qsmp's story and universe he. suddenly and completely unintentionally becomes. me. the most autistic creature to ever live. like how do you handle a situation that is actually dead serious? how do you. tell the difference between a serious loss and a bit if death and injury typically harbors no consequence for the person you just lost? how do you comfort a person in ways that aren't just giving them stuff to keep their mind off of their troubles? what if they don't feel like talking right now? What if telling them that the problem can be fixed isn't enough? am I supposed to be the one comforting them? Idk how to do that! I wasn't given the handbook on the way in! I thought you were supposed to tell me your problems so that I can occasionally nod and say stuff like "man that sucks so bad, im sorry"! You guys can sit cramped and yell on the duck cart in the tunnel of love all you want im gonna sit on the grass instead is that cool. I'm gonna lag behind and appear late at every event because I wanna take things slowly here is that fine. And again. totally unintentional ofc so I can't get entirely mad when people make posts that are of the vain of: "Damn! Get a grip q!phil!" or whatever. Like I'm just seeing something that reminds me of. me. If other people don't see it then thats not a fault of them but like. It just kinda gut-punch kick-to-the-throat reminds me of how I've lived literally every day of my life. a bit. yknow? and idc if thats a bit of a goofy reading cuz like. its mine. also this is. my blog. heart.

#syd spiels qsmp #qsmp #q!phil #q!philza #also if you made one of those posts just hghggjh.;;; please dont view it as a personal attack i prommy it is not #i just saw a . lot of it today and it got me thinkin about this more heart

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 6 months

Text

Not Enough | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Your old classmate comes back into town for a work trip but his flight home gets cancelled so he shows up on your doorstep to tell you one last thing... Pairing: Reader x Jungkook f2l Word Count: 1.3k~ a/n: Just some cute angst... is that even a thing? lol idk how to categorize it. I wrote it last night and thought it would be nice as a one shot. Hope you enjoy :) p.s. horribly edited

"Hey thanks for letting me spend the night" Jungkook says as I let him into my apartment. "Don't mention it. It's not your fault that your flight got cancelled" I say taking his jacket and hanging it up to dry. "Looks like it's really coming down out there" I say in regards to his jacket that is completely soaked through. "Hey!" I laugh while putting my hands up, trying to shield myself from mist that lands on me while he shakes his head in an effort to dry his hair off a bit.

"Oh sorry my bad" he says wiping my face a bit with his sleeve that is surprisingly dry in contrast. "It's fine" I say while he playfully smooshes my face around, 'trying' to dry it off. "You sure you don't mind?" he says when he finishes and cups my face with both of his hands making eye contact with me. "I told you it's fine, plus this way we get to spend more time together before you fly back home" I say giving him a sad smile and taking one of his hands off my face so I can walk away to grab some things for him.

"Are you mad at me?" he says trailing behind me into my room. "Why would I be mad at you?" I say pulling out some pillows and blankets for him to use on the sofa bed. "Well then you're upset" he continues and I ignore that question because I really can't deny it.

"Talk to me" he says, taking the things that are in my hands and placing them on my bed. "I'm not upset" I lie but I know he can see right through me. "I'm sorry I can't stay longer. We were supposed to spend more time together but this work trip was a lot more demanding than I thought it would be" he says taking one of my hands in his.

"It's okay, it's not your fault. You had a job you needed to do so I can't get mad at you for it. I'm just happy that I was even able to see you" I say trying to take some of the guilt away. "How long has it been since you moved back home?" I question, referring to him getting his dream job back in Seoul.

"Two years" he says with an unreadable expression. "You still like it there right?" I question, concerned with his reaction. "Oh I love it, everyone there is really nice and the job is challenging but definitely everything I wanted and more" he says while grabbing the pillows and blankets and bringing them into the living room.

"I bet your parents are happy you moved back huh?" I question, watching as he sets up the pull out couch taking all the cushions off and unfolding the mattress. "Yeah they are, but they talk about you a lot though" he says with his back to me, not able to see how confused that's made me.

"Me? Why me?" I say grabbing one corner of the bed sheet, deciding to at least help him place the fitted one on. "They keep on asking me how you are, if you're still living in New York, why I didn't bring you back with me, what kind of job you have" he lists off, with one in particular catching me off guard.

"Woah woah woah, back up. They thought you were going to bring me back to Seoul with you? Like as in come to visit?" I say tilting my head in confusion. "Something like that" he says and lays out the pillows and blankets, finishing up the setup in record time. "No no, don't you go all vague on me" I say following him over to my kitchen where he gets himself a water bottle out of the fridge and hands one to me as well, which I place on the counter trying to stay focused on my interrogation.

"Did they think you were going to ask me to move to Seoul with you?" I question after he's taken a drink from his water bottle, still holding onto it, having only been half empty now. "Yeah" he says looking past me, focusing on something on the wall behind me to avoid eye contact.

"Why?" I question, confused as to what would even make them think that. "You know how my mom always calls you myeoneuri?" he questions, now looking down at the floor. "Yeah that means daughter right? You said she started calling me that because you and I became really good friends" I answer recalling the memory.

"Well myeoneuri doesn't exactly mean daughter" he says and I can see how the tips of his ears are almost turning a bit red. "What does it mean?" I question, curious as to where this is all going. "It means daughter in law" he says now making eye contact with me. "Oh" I say taken back, trying to piece things together from our phone calls. Everything making sense now with how he would wave his mother off when she would tease him in front of me on video call countless times.

"Needless to say she had certain expectations set for you and I" he says trying to walk past me and back into the living room but I grab his wrist before he's able to make it too far. "Jungkook did she think we were dating?" I ask and he stops for a second, trying to figure out exactly how he's going to go about this. "No, but she wanted us to be" he answers but I'm still not satisfied by that answer.

"Why exactly did she want us to be dating?" I question prodding further. "Because she knew that I liked you" he says and slips his wrist out of my grasp gently and walks over to the bed where he sits down on it with his shoulders slightly slumped. "What's wrong?" I ask sitting next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know. I just, being back here has really put a lot of things into perspective for me. It's shown me that I've missed this place a lot more than I thought I did. I missed you a lot more than I thought I did" he says trailing off a bit. "What are you trying to say?" I question, trying to get him to come out and say exactly what he's thinking.

"I've told myself before that it would never work between us, that we were too young and naïve to think about anything serious. I told myself that I didn't want to ruin our friendship and that we should just stay the way we have always have been. So when I got that job offer after graduation, I took it. I took it because I knew that if I stayed here that I might do something stupid and break your heart if you ever gave me the chance to hold it. I convinced myself that things were better this way and that if I could have you in my life even when we're thousands of miles apart that that would be enough for me. After coming back here I realized, that that's not enough for me anymore" he says and finally makes eye contact with me.

"Having you in my life but only being able to see you through a screen or hear you voice on the phone is not enough for me. Hearing about your days but not being able to be a part of them is not enough for me. Being able to hold you this close to my heart and being too scared to give it to you is not enough for me" he says taking my hand and placing it on his chest where I can feel his heart beating faster, helping me realize how he's truly felt about me for a while.

"Please say something" he pleads with a voice that sounds broken and vulnerable almost as if he would shatter if you weren't careful. I instead take his hand and place it against my chest showing him that it's beating just as fast as his.

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nikoisme · 3 months

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Regarding the "it's fine that you're queer, just don't show it." line I agree with you and share your feelings, It makes me so incredibly frustrated, because this is a very prevalent attitude where I live (along with the more extreme negative attitudes).

Like. People go "I don't care that someone's queer, I'm neutral about that", but 90% of the time that "neutral" means just "I'm not going to directly harm them or wish death upon them, but I don't want to see, hear, think or talk about them"

Hearing that "it's fine you're gay, just keep it in the privacy of your bedroom" is just... you're not even allowed to hold hands with your partner on the street because that can put you both in danger (yes, unfortunately here it is a very real fear. I know that there are countries, where things are better, and where the worst you'll get is a rare insult or a mean stare, which, don't get me wrong, it's still not pleasant, but it's not as bad as a constant threat of physical assault or worse). And I'm not even talking about being trans. This isn't "neutral" this is just negative and it makes me so angry, when people act like this.

The worst part, they don't even realise what the problem is and how incredibly suffocating being forced to live like this is. You either treat queer people as people and don't try to erase (or worse, completely stop) their existence and let us be or you don't. Simply not wishing death upon queer people and not harming them for existing isn't as great of an achievement as those people think it is...

Sorry, if this was too negative. You don't have to respond and also, if you don't like getting rants like this, please feel free to say so. I wish you all the best, your blog is a very nice place and your art is wonderful, thank you for existing)))

Long rant ahead whoops!! cw for queerphobia and mentions of violence

Oh you put it all so perfectly! The experience here is exactly the same. "Just keep it within four walls, why do you have to rub it in our faces" is one I hear constantly. They will see a same-sex couple just holding hands and immediately see it as if they're having sex in public or something. Like,, just holding hands is something so explicitly sexual, to them apparently. Like you stated, they will say "i am neutral about it", but they are neutral only if you don't show you're queer. They are "neutral" only if you aren't actually yourself. I was honestly shocked how many times the conversation would go from that "neutrality" to mockery to downright violence. So whenever i hear someone say "as long as they don't push it on me", i always put up my guard. Because i don't know if it's "i don't mind that you're queer, you're still the same person i know and you deserve to be loved, respected and have basic human rights" or just masked hatred.

They will literally claim that queer people aren't discriminated, but actually privileged because they have "their damn parade" and representation in media. They say that they will get all the accommodations of life, society and economy purely based on the fact that they are queer. Apparently this all "comes from the west", like i am actually from the west and not,, y'know,, literally from here?? Born here?? Raised here?? Had the same chaotic-ass childhood like my peers?? But apparently it all goes away just because i am queer? Idk man it all really disconnected me from my culture and identity, and i am still uncomfortable with that (but i'm slowly trying to heal that! Drawing slavic mythology helps :DD)

"They aren't discriminated, they don't actually face any harassment", there were cases of queer people literally being murdered here. If it was a cishet person, it would be breaking news. But since it's a queer person, no one speaks about it. Harassment is bad, but when a queer person is being harassed it's their fault? Because they couldn't keep it to themselves? There is no protection here towards queer people when they face discrimination and harassment. The government does nothing.

"They have the same rights as us, what more do they want?" i don't know man just not living in constant paranoia hmmm??? Pride parades, rare as they are, are always under threats of violence from anti-gay protestors. I think a lot of people here don't even think queer people are actually people. Usually queer characters here are the laughingstock in media. They are portrayed with such horrible stereotypes (the worst ones are gay men=pedos), to the point of sometimes dehumanizing them. There is just so many terrible misinformation. I am queer as fuck, my gender is transed, and i know nothing about some of the downright bullshit they claim. A few weeks ago i had to listen through "the gays and their agenda" thing. And i'm not kidding, someone said "you will be asked to change your sexuality to get hired. Soon you will have to out yourself as straight. Straight people are the actual minority". It was so dumb it was almost hilarious.

But while sometimes i can get a laugh out of their willful ignorance (they lowkey won't acknowledge intersex people), it can get really draining, really fast. At this point i am just exhausted and sick of it. Sometimes I'm just exhausted of being around my family, friends and classmates and knowing, deep down, that they wish people like me wouldn't exist. Listening to them talk about "all the things they would do if they saw a [insert f slur]" and fearing if they would do it to you. Not speaking in lgbtq+ themed conversations because you don't agree with them - and all the shitty things they say are, in a way, faced at you. I'm not out to anyone irl exactly because of this, so while i don't face harassment aimed specifically at me, it does get hard sometimes. The silent ostracization from your own culture, history, religion etc. just feels really bad. Not to get too into it, but all of it really really fucked me up, and it took me years to come to terms with myself. It's sad feeling like i simply don't belong here. Sometimes it makes me wanna scream in anger, sometimes it makes me wanna laugh, sometimes it makes me wanna just throw up, cry, sleep and sometimes i just spiral. I usually have a "lmao fuck them. I like myself and i don't care what they think of me" attitude (queer spite that i mentioned once HAHAHA), but I actually do care because sometimes the odds of me having a normal life in which i am happy with who i am and i don't live under the constant fear of being, y'know, KILLED,, they just seem nonexistent.

I don't think they understand queer people have hobbies, friends, families, interests, dreams. We do the same things as them, we eat sleep laugh cry. They will claim we make our queer identity the only part of ourselves, like it's our entire personality - but when you tell them you're queer, they stop treating you the same, as the same person you were before you told them AND STILL ARE!! They will treat you as "not cishet", something that is "sick" and wrong and just doesn't belong.

This got really personal real fast, but good god it feels good to get it all out. There is so much more i didn't cover, mostly because even typing this down made me really tired. And it's not a bad thing!! In a way i am really exhausted from staying silent about this, so this was nice. I guess like a big "FUCK YOU" to everyone around me who is like this LMAOO. but tHANK YOU this ask put all of the frustration into words much better than i could hahaha!!

#also your last paragraph made me tear up thank you 🥹🥹#this is slightly incomprehensible but so are all my feelings about this. i can't be bothered to make this look nice.#when it really isn't nice :'D #maybe one day i'll properly talk about this problem but yah. this was nice #also the ask was much appreciated dw!#asks

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starstruckkittensweets · 5 months

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decisions

Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

fandom: bungo stray dogs

New year, new format, same old Star? I guess only time will tell. Anyway, here's my silly little self dabbling in a new fandom to get myself out of my writer's block. Blame BSD for being my current obsession, and for keeping me up way past my bedtime just to finish this lil fic just in time for new year's. Please be kind, I'm trying to get back into the swing of things! Also I haven't been able to get my mind off of Chuuya for like the last few weeks, send help pls I'm very concerned, it's currently 3:30am and I'm very sleep-deprived haha dividers made by @/hitobaby

warnings: mentions of drinking/alcohol consumption, reader has a history with Chuuya (he's responsible for bringing her into the mafia in the first place), reader is a little sad with complicated feelings on new year's eve, Chuuya may or may not be ooc and I'm sorry if he is, this fic is totally not self-indulgent in the slightest, idk what you guys are talking about || words: 2.3k

Fifteen minutes to go.

The air is chilly against your cheeks, the thin jacket over your shoulders barely doing anything to keep out the cold. Even with the buttons fastened all the way up to your neck and a scarf wrapped over your face twice, you’re still freezing your ass off. Oh well, better out here than in there.

You’ve never seen the Port Mafia headquarters look so lively. You blame Elise—well, Mori specifically for feeding into her wishes to throw such an extravagant party in the first place. The first two hours were fun, but you decided to tap out once you saw the familiar red hue splashed across Higuchi’s cheeks. As much as you enjoy her company, the last thing you want to do is watch her make a fool out of herself in front of Akutagawa. (Who’s also getting a little tipsy himself, and it’s quite uncomfortable to watch.)

Besides, it’s too loud and rowdy for your liking. So instead you’re leaning against the wall outside, your second bottle of cider clutched in your hands, secretly wishing the skirt of your dress was just a tiny bit longer.

You glance at your watch and grimace. Fourteen minutes left.

Fuck.

“Party ain’t good enough for you, huh?”

You jolt at the familiar voice; your cheeks are flushed, but you know better than to blame the drink in your hand. Seems that Chuuya just has that effect on you.

You shrug your shoulders, gazing down at the pavement as he makes his way down the entrance steps. “It’s fine, just a little…crazy, I guess? It’s quieter out here.”

“Cold as hell, though.”

“Yeah…”

An uneasy silence settles over the two of you. You clear your throat and swallow another mouthful of your drink. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other against the wall beside you, careful not to scuff up the fabric of his fancy blue overcoat. Never one to pass up dressing a bit nice for a party or banquet, huh?

He hums, taking a sip from his wine glass (of course he brought it out with him). You’re about to open your mouth before he raises an eyebrow, sending a scathing look at the choice of drink in your hands.

“…You still drinking that shit?”

You roll your eyes with a huff, “Well, we can’t all have your stellar taste in alcohol.”

Not your fault he has a thing for fancy wines that cost more than your entire wardrobe at home. You prefer something a little more comfortable, and sometimes a simple bottle of hard cider is more than enough to get the job done.

He shakes his head, but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips (or maybe the alcohol’s making you see things already). “You’d think with all the time we’ve spent together, your taste in drinks would improve.”

“As if.” You nudge your elbow into his arm before taking another swig. “Don’t try to take me away from my cider.”

Your head is a bit fuzzy, but no amount of alcohol seems to warm you up. You fold your arms across your chest, careful not to spill your drink down the front of your coat. It would be just like you to go and make a fool of yourself in front of your superior like that.

Eleven minutes to go.

“…What’s on your mind?”

Damn it, he must’ve seen you looking at your watch. You swallow hard, tracing your thumb around the rim of your bottle. And suddenly all the words you wanna say vanish on the tip of your tongue.

So you just don’t answer. A few more moments pass in silence before he tips his head back against the wall, a heavy sigh filling the air around you.

“Come on, you gotta be drinking out here alone for a reason. So what is it, huh?” His eyes are sharp when he finally glances at you. “Someone upset you in there, or what?”

“Huh—no, nothing like that—”

At least, nothing any of your coworkers said. They’re not at fault for your sour mood; the only one you have to blame is yourself.

Oh well, you’re already a bit drunk. You already have a list of things you’ll regret tomorrow morning. What’s the harm in adding just one more?

“I just…I don’t see the point in celebrating new years anymore…”

You cringe the moment the words leave your lips. Way to go, dumbass. He definitely won’t think you’re trying to be edgy just to impress him. Not in the slightest.

Eh, you’ve already made a fool out of yourself. Might as well go all the way, right? Rip the bandaid off now while you can.

“It’s like, well, for the last few years they’ve just kinda…blended together? They’re repetitive and everyone makes a big deal out of them, and I don’t really get it anymore. Yeah, it was fun when we were kids, but now? I just gotta look forward to another year of being the same person I was the last twelve months. It’s fun for the first few days, but then everything reverts right back to the way it was. Nothing changes permanently, y’know?”

Fuck me, it’s not like he’s your therapist! He doesn’t need to hear this shit! Shut your mouth while you still have a chance!

But he doesn’t stop you—not that your mouth would know when to quit, anyways.

“Dunno, maybe I’m just being a downer about it. It’s been like that for a while, though, not just because of new year’s… Higuchi says it’s because I haven’t even been kissed—because that’s supposed to make everything better, apparently. New Year’s kiss and all—it’s stupid, right?”

Not that you ever believed her about that bullshit. Totally not. And that weird fluttering feeling in your chest right now? You’ve had too much to drink. Not that you’ll stop any time soon.

The silence in the air is killing you, and you’re just about to down the rest of your drink in one gulp when you hear a soft snicker beside you. Chuuya shakes his head, smirking at you over the rim of his glass.

“Sour mood just because you’ve never had a new year’s kiss?”

“S-shut up! You know what I mean!”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, his voice softer than before, “I think I do.”

He sinks himself down to the ground, the tails of his coat acting as a barrier between him and the freezing pavement. Setting his glass down he pats the space next to him, and it’s almost embarrassing how quick you are to follow his lead. Even when you’re all bundled up in your coat and scarf, your body curled into itself, you only start to feel warm when you’re pressed against his side.

And he seems to notice, because he drapes an arm over your shoulder to pull you in close. It’s not the first time he’s done this, but it still makes you feel antsy all the same.

“Another year in paradise, eh?”

You raise your bottle to meet his glass halfway, the soft clink sending a shiver down your spine.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad this time around.”

At least, that’s what you tell yourself every year. Maybe it’ll be okay this time. Maybe things will work out. Maybe this year, you won’t see yourself as a complete and utter failure. Despite your accomplishments and contributions to the mafia, maybe you’ll start seeing yourself as something more than a lowly criminal.

Instead of the same simple girl he picked up from the streets all those years ago.

The two of you finish your drinks, with only the buzzing of the voices inside breaking the silence between you. It’s getting closer to midnight, only five more minutes to go. You place your bottle down at your side with a clang, wincing when you start to feel a pang in your temple. And one look at Chuuya tells you his own drink is finally catching up to him; he grimaces and tilts his head back, his cheeks flushed red from the frigid air around you.

“We’re both gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, huh?”

“Bet yours will be worse than mine,” he challenges with a smirk.

But you can see the exhaustion in his eyes; he’s always been a lightweight, as long as you’ve known him. Too many times you’ve helped him home from a night at the bar, other times you’ve been right beside him, just as wasted as he was. Perhaps it’s not the ideal superior-underling relationship to have at work, but quality drinking buddies are hard to come by these days.

And besides, there’s just something about seeing him in such a vulnerable state that makes you feel a certain way. No, it’s not just that—it’s knowing that he’s letting you see him in such a vulnerable state. That he trusts you enough to get him home safe, to not take advantage of him when he’s too far gone to even remember his own name. And knowing that he would do the exact same for you, and that trust is returned in full (and then some, if you’re being completely honest with yourself).

Because no matter how hard you try to talk yourself out of it, or convince yourself otherwise, you’re still that same stupid girl from the slums with a soft spot for the man who saved her.

You press yourself deeper into his side, smiling when you feel his arm tighten around your shoulders. Three minutes left of the year. The voices from inside are growing louder, more pronounced as the seconds tick by. You don’t pay them much mind, not when you’re already half asleep, cuddled up against your boss.

How scandalous—maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll pass out before midnight and won’t wake up till noon the next day.

“You don’t have to be the same person you are now, if you’re not happy with it.” His voice snaps you awake at once, and you don’t even have to look at him to know he’s staring in your direction. “If you think you’ll be happier as someone else, then be that person.” He scoffs lightly with a shrug of his shoulders. “As long as you’re satisfied, I don’t see a problem with that.”

Your lips open and close, reminding yourself of a fish. Your throat runs dry, but you manage to force a few words out.

“It’s not that I wanna be someone completely different… I like myself sometimes, and other days…” You hate yourself and the person you’ve become. “…But I don’t wanna lose the parts of me I like, you know? Sometimes I wanna change, but I also wanna just stay being me… Ah, never mind, I don’t even know what I’m saying.” You force out a laugh, hiding your face in your frozen hands. “I’m drunk, I know I am. See what happens when you let me drink so much?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol making your tongue looser than it normally is. You’ve only had two bottles, but combined with the wintry air and Chuuya’s warmth beside you… You fear you’ve gone off the deep end by now. And there’s no way you’re crawling back out of it until you crash and burn…and hopefully not take anyone else with you.

He rolls his eyes, but they’re softer than they were before. A pretty blue shade, almost sparkling in the bright moonlight. Ah, damn it, who are you kidding? They’ve always been pretty—he’s always been pretty…

You can hear people chanting in the distance. Must be the final countdown of the night, huh?

“Don’t worry your head over it,” he whispers, and he’s so close you can almost taste the wine on his breath. Warm and comforting, reminding you of a home you once carved out for yourself. “I think I get what you’re saying.”

You don’t even bother looking down at your watch. You know just how much longer you have before the year is up.

“Whatever you decide to do,” he says, and you can feel his gloved fingers lacing through your own, “whatever parts of yourself you decide to keep, I’ll still be on your side.”

A chorus of cheers erupts from headquarters; shadows dance along the golden windows, illuminating the streamers and confetti and drunken patrons as they celebrate the brand new year. You swallow hard, your cheeks burning against the cold, unable to tear yourself away from those pretty blue eyes.

But then his words sink in, really sink in, and suddenly you want to cry. But you can’t stop yourself from smiling, even as you feel the first line of tears prick at your lashes.

“That…means a lot to me,” your voice is hoarse, but you manage to get the words out just in time. “Thank you so much, Chuuya, I could just—”

Kiss you now, like the idiot I am.

Oh, what the hell? The lines have already been blurred, what’s the harm in actually crossing them? Or maybe that’s just the alcohol talking again.

But you know damn well that this is one drunken decision you will never regret, for as long as you live.

“…This might sound really stupid, but can I kiss you?”

Call yourself stupid for asking, but he’s just as stupid for nodding—and the two of you are wrapped in each other’s arms, lips pressed together with the roars of the crowd inside echoing in your ears.

Who knows what the new year will bring? More of the same? A little bit of excitement? Only time will tell, you guess. You wonder how many parts of yourself you’ll start to shed, like a skin that’s grown far too tight for your liking. Or maybe you’ll fall in love with a few different parts, seeing them in a new way you’d never even thought of.

At least you’re not alone in it, no matter what your decision is.

#rip to the 'r' key on my laptop #this entire fic was written with that lil bugger broken #two pieces of tape saved me from going absolutely bonkers #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd fics

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nativeofsumeru · 2 years

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Genshin Impact Fanfiction Ideas

A/N: These are just some fan fiction ideas that I had in my head (some are more fleshed out than others), I don't think I'll write them out tho so I put them all here because I like said ideas

There are gender neutral reader and male/female reader stories

(This list is in a random order)

~~~

Pantalone:

-Being his sugar baby or partner, either living with him and him spoiling you or him basically buying you your own house(he would still spoil you)

-maybe the Fatui take a keen interest into his personal affairs and he has to act as if you're really nothing special, you overhear this conversation and this miscommunication leads to fights, you end up storming off and being put in harm's way

Dottore:

-this little shit

-reader running away with a baby they had with Dottore scared of whatever the doctor might do if he got his hands on said baby

-"I don't trust what you would do them." "You trust me with your own body yet you won't trust me with my own creation?"

-running through some snowy woods late at night in Snezhnaya as he calmly with a smirk on his face hunts you down, it's a little game of Hide & Seek, at the end of the day though he's probably the victor

Itto:

-fem!reader is the daughter of an Inazuman noble family, reader has made and caught feelings for an oni friend/acquaintance she knew from childhood and they start a secret romance as her family would never approve

-one day her family comes to here and excitedly proclaims that she is betrothed to Kamisato Ayato and are so happy about the honor and status it's brought her family

-reader is obviously devastated and entrusts with Itto what happened, reader is married to Ayato and although he was kind and didn't force her to do anything she didn't want to, he didn't seem all too invested in this marriage either

-itto and reader continue meeting up in secret and reader low-key feels guilty that she's technically cheating on her husband and even if she didn't want this in the beginning no one deserves to be betrayed like that

-reader makes a decision to tell Ayato about her relationship with Itto, only to find him and Thoma being romantic with each other (this is awkward)

-eventually everything is talked through and there are apologies and laughs about the whole ordeal(no hard feelings and everyone understands the feeling of being scared to be open about their relationships due to public opinion, head commissioner with a lowly housekeeper?! the disgrace!)

-Ayato explains the reason behind such a rushed marriage was because with (insert national/international conflict here that he has to partake in) and Ayaka not being interested in marriage at all(which is perfectly fine in his eyes) it's up to him to make sure there's an heir for the Kamisato clan as his life is most definitely going to be in danger

-idk where it would go from here, but no one in this story is malicious and I'm sure Ayato, reader, Thoma, Ayaka, and Itto team up to make a plan to quell the threat and solve everybody's issues

Childe:

-Childe finds himself getting romantically attached to a prostitute he frequently spends time with, however the last thing he wants is another personal relationship put in harm's way

Itto again:

-reader and Itto being discriminated against cause he's an oni, he feels awful for being the cause of reader having to go through this

-reader explains how they don't mind and they knew what they were getting into, how others bigoted minds aren't his fault etc.

-a big fluff fic

Yae Miko:

-Modern AU

reader has an on and off relationship with Miko and is very flirtatious, they like to see Miko's reactions when she gets jealous

-one day either Miko has enough or reader goes too far in their "make her jealous" attempts and shit hits the fan

Kazuha:

-the friend trio was Tomo, Kazuha, and reader

-reader and Tomo were very close, practically lovers at the time of his death

-Kazuha has to relay the terrible news to them and they breakdown, Kazuha hides out in Inazuma for a bit trying to stay on the down-low, it's during this time that reader and Kazuha start getting closer

-Kazuha starts to get feelings for the heartbroken reader and feels guilty because they were Tomo's partner

-Kazuha eventually has to leave the country and reader is left alone in Inazuma

-Kazuha returns during the Irodori Festival and sees a familiar face in the crowd of civilians hanging out with Yoimiya

Kuki Shinobu:

-inspired by the song "Jenny" by Studio Killers

-fem!reader is best friends with Kuki, reader has started going out with Itto

-Shinobu and reader later runaway together leaving behind the cares of the past knowing they would probably be figuratively crucified by those they were close to

Kaeya and Diluc:

-m!reader and Kaeya share a drink at the bar

-trio is Diluc, Kaeya, and reader

-I do lowkey love Love triangle tropes

-reader gets close to both men separately and slowly uncovers the story of their separation from each other being conflicted as to who's right or wrong while also catching feelings for both

Kaeya:

-m!reader

-Yuri on Ice but with reader and Kaeya basically

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n7punk · 5 months

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i know this is a long shot because i remember little and i'm pretty sure i've asked before and no one knew what book i was talking about but does anyone know a book that:

came out 10+ years ago

aimed at SOMEWHERE in the 8-15yo range (i realize this is a big range, but i don't remember when i read it, just that it was in the childrens section).

is a werewolf book but there's very little werewolf in it (do you know how hard it is to find a specific, non-popular childrens/pre-teen barely-werewolf book. google does not like it)

the setting is vaguely medieval/generic fantasy although i dont remember there being much fantasy outside of werewolves. maybe some alchemy? i really dont think magic obviously existed for much of the story

the main character is a girl (Also in the 8-15 range i would guess) who is living with a family that isn't her exact birth family (stepmom, grandparents, orphan taken in, i dont remember but it was something like that) and it isn't Great but mostly because they're poor and she's the weak link i think

for some reason she gets taken to a quarry and i remember it being her family's fault. like they didn't protect her from the working draft, did it to pay off their debts, etc. she's forced to work but makes friends with the other workers and i think she ends up seeming unusual in some way (strength to work when grown men cant, healing and recovering, etc. a plague sweeps through and she's fine and it's suspicious) there.

somehow she ends going from there to the palace. i remember her having some tie with the royal family but i think she also might have just befriended their daughter or something.

she was on the run either on the way to the palace or afterwards. she hid in a barn or under a trapdoor or something

here's the distinct part: that book ends with her in the woods, discovering she's a werewolf with the help of other wolf(ves). she has an injury at the base of her neck where the hair has grown back pure white (a sign of werewolfism???)

i feel like it was setting up for a sequel but have no idea if that ever happened. a few Extremely sparse details of this book have been burned in the back of my mind for like fifteen years and i have no clue what the fuck it was. any parts of this could be incorrect/missing because ive remembered this so many times off and on over the years that idk what parts are real or my brain filling in the gaps. i might be combining two books honestly but i dont think i am.

like i feel like her birth parent(s) (maybe just one) were wolves in the woods that she didnt know were werewolves, she started showing signs of being supernatural in the quarry, someone (rasputin-ish) kind of recognized that in her and had her brought to the palace to more carefully study (unbeknownst to her, to a certain degree), she became really good friends with a noble lady there her age, discovered her family might have ties to the royal one, but was still essentially a prisoner. one night she tried to sneak out and the princess(?) caught her but then ended up covering her ass so she could climb the wall and went on the run. she hid in a barn at one point, was discovered by a family and hid from the same kind of patrol that took her to the quarry. somehow she ended up injured, limping into the woods, where she discovered she was a werewolf. and then the book ended. but that sounds so inexplicable i feel like half of it has to be wrong! so i really want to find this book again but i cant figure out what to even google to find this weird fucking story again and i would feel like a lunatic going back to my childhood library 15 years later or whatever and trying to describe this fever dream to them.

#literally what keywords do you pull out of this mess to google because i havent figured it out #books #werewolves #childrens books #pls. someone. i know there's a reddit for this probably but i dont Have one of those #mylife

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whysojiminimnida · 2 years

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Maknae Line Sipping Things, Pt. 1

Maybe it's tea but more likely it's gonna hit and make us dizzy, knowing these guys. Because it's always something with them, isn't it?

WAIT BEFORE I GO ANY FURTHER PLEASE TO READ THE DISCLAIMER

ARMY is many things to "our boys" - who, by the way, have not been "boys" for nearly a decade, now. Can we just normalize letting grown ass men be, IDK, GROWN ASS MEN?

They DO LOVE US. More than we realize. We are their validation. We are their audience, their personal search engine, their friends in a weird kind of two-sided parasocial relationship (which I guess makes it nearly a social relationship). But we are also their paychecks.

BTS is at a point where none of them need to work. Ever. They could fuck off to Bora Borahae (don't get me started) and spend lavishly for the rest of their days and still leave an enormous inheritance to their pets. They're fine, financially, in a way that most of us will never be. It's a heady experience, I'm told, having fuck-you money, and they have that. And yet they continue to work.

They continue to move their lives within a very tight, very enclosed but entirely too visible bubble. They always will, because their level of fame is that, now. Their lives don't really belong to them - they belong to us. Which is a heavy and often uncomfortable reality for them. So that's my angle going into the whole What The Fuck Is Up With The Maknae Line thing. They are in an unhealthy relationship - with ARMY - and it's changed who they are to each other, over time.

To be fair it's not ARMY's fault, either. If we must lay blame somewhere throw it on the idol system, maybe. They were assigned their roles in the beginning and SO WAS ARMY. It goes both ways.

The hyungs handle it better, overall. They were a few very crucial years older. They were given more responsibility and less, I think, insecurity. Don't get me started on neurodivergency. Or gayness. I'LL PONTIFICATE, IT WILL TURN INTO A DAMN FILIBUSTER, LET'S JUST NOT OKAY.

"But we LOVE THEM," I hear you cry. How can our love be unhealthy? Oh let me count the ways.

I LOVE a good fansite photographer. And Black & White is the best of the best - supportive, great shots, excellent with boundaries. See that? Jungkook recognized and was not upset to see them - because he sees them. A LOT. Here's Jimin taking notice:

He ain't mad. But cameras are as normal to BTS as breathing. Kinda like stylists. They get so used to having them there they don't quite seem real without them. To us, certainly, but maybe also to themselves. And as we've been let in to (almost) every facet of their lives we've become a little entitled. We think we know them - and in many ways we do. We see them cry, laugh, snort, fart, snore, sneeze and cough. We've even managed to be privy to inconvenient wood and bathtub photos - usually dressed, but Namjoon is not here today. "They're so relatable", we sigh. "How are they even real," we swoon. And yet we know they are, because we see them like this:

Little derpcakes, all of 'em. And we go "must protect!"

We protecc, we attacc, we give a boy a snacc, we make up memes about it and feel a little superior to all those fans who don't protect their idols - as well we should, we're the bomb. THE BANGTAN BOMB BITCHES.

And in so doing we have "protected" the maknae line right into eternal teenhood.

I've done it myself. Ask me how old Park Jimin is and I am as likely as not to tell you he's 24. (He's about to turn 27 international. At the end of the year he turns 29, Korean age.)

Again, much of this is marketing and is done deliberately because teen girls spend money. They also write fanfiction, draw and paint fan art, and attend concerts. And some of the fics are amazing, most are porn-adjacent or straight (gayyyy) erotica. Ditto a chunk of the art. But keep in mind that minors produce and consume all manner of media. A Minors DNI warning might as well be a neon sign. And fiction and depiction are SAFE ways for ARMY to explore their own and other sexualities. Put a pretty boy naked in a high school locker room with a tattooed, musclebound alpha quarterback and the metaphorical or literal jizz flings itself into the stratosphere. BUT LORD HELP A GROWN ASS ADULT MAN THAT ACTUALLY GETS A GIRLFRIEND.

Or boyfriend.

Stay tuned for the rest of this mess, probably.

#parasocial relationships #maknae line #army #bts army #jimin #jungkook #taehyung #just out here on my bullshit don't mind me

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falloutjuli · 1 year

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As promised an almost 900 words tiny excerpt from my Johnny x Reader fanfic that I’m Working on, featuring a very jealous Johnny and Reader and Diego being besties! (Because Diego and Reader are both kinda dummies)

the whole thing is at 4k words now and still needs a bit of work but eh. Enjoy a teaser. Its gonne be mighty fine and Im editing it from Fem!Reader to GN!Reader because idk. Felt like it uwu.

Anyways, enjoy the tiny teaser hehe.

----

And during the time you three lived together until now... You became good friends with Gyro and developed a crush on Johnny. Much to your dismay but it is what it is.

Checking your phone, you saw you almost had to leave so you checked yourself one last time in the mirror before you walked in the living room to get to your room.

"Holy cow, Y/N! You look stunning!" Gyro commented, a big smile on his face. "Thank you, Gyro, didn't know you could be nice."

"Didn't know you could look like that." You rolled your eyes and entered your room to get your bag.

You kinda had hoped Johnny would have said anything, but he kept quiet, much to your disappointment, but you couldn't change it. Yet it kinda hurt you, making you doubt for a second to actually wear the fancy clothes you picked out for tonight.

Maybe you should cancel? He surely made a mistake asking you in the first place…No, you told yourself, you'd go out and enjoy yourself.

That was tonight’s goal. With bag and shoes now gathered you exited your room and tried to push away the looming stress and nervousness inside of you.

"I'll be gone then; I hope you two will have a great night too." You said and looked at the two horse lovers who were seated on the couch, playing games.

"We'll be fine. Just remember, if he shows any red flags, or you get a weird feeling, call me and I'll come get ya!" Gyro said looking at you sternly.

"Don't worry, as soon as he begins to resemble you, I'll give you a call." Gyro needed a second before he got what you were implying.

Johnny snickered along.

"Well, I best be going then, until later!" And with that you left the room and consequently the apartment. "Man, you're really messing up your chance." "As if I ever had one." Johnny answered his friend and sounded defeated. You stood outside the restaurant, nervous, unsure if he'd actually show up.

"I hope you weren't waiting for too long, I'm sorry for my delay." A voice from behind you said and made you spin around, smiling once you saw him. Diego looked fine tonight, and you wondered how it came to be he asked you out of all people available to him.

You were bored out of your mind. Gyro and Johnny had been out riding for like one and a half hour already and they were still nowhere to be seen.

It wasn't their fault that you felt a little down today and therefore declined riding with either, so you didn't blame them.

You weren't big into riding yourself but coming with them to the stables, seeing them in their element and with Slow Dancer and Valkyrie and sometimes riding with them was such a highlight.

You loved how Gyro kept talking to his little "bella" as if she was his girlfriend and you loved seeing Johnny being happy while he rode on Slow Dancer.

But today... after your mood plummeted thanks to your feelings towards a certain blond rider, you rather sat in the shade near the stables and were on your phone.

To your surprise, some strange legs entered your view and in front of you stood Diego Brando.

You had heard of him, his reputation was that to thank for, and Johnny and Gyro had their run-ins with him and loved to rant about him.

"Hey there." You said unsure of what exactly would happen now. You looked around and only spotted a girl with short pink hair nearby.

"Yeah, hey. I wanted to ask if you'd like to go out sometime?" You sat there dumbfounded.

A popular, good-looking guy, many girls surely would die for, just casually asked you out, without having ever spoken a word before. You blinked a couple of times.

"Eh..." was All you could answer before you saw the chance this was. A date, with someone who seemed interested in you and might make you realize you never actually crushed on Johnny.

"Sure. Why not." You said and Diego looked pleased.

"May I have your phone to give you my number?" Slightly embarrassed you handed the man your phone who quickly typed something in with his none gloved hand.

"There you go. Send me a message later yeah, love?" His British accent did make your knees a little weak.

Mindlessly you tugged a lose hair string behind your ear and looked at the newly made contact of "Diego 🦖" while said contact began striding back to his friend, who you assumed must be Hot Pants, the guys had also told you about her.

Not too long after that, Johnny and Gyro were back too.

"Did ya get bored waiting for us?" Gyro asked as he helped Johnny unmount. "A little."

"Your fault for not coming along. We found a real nice new path near a small river."

"I'll come along next time, then you can show me, yeah?" You answered Johnny and decided to keep the thing with Diego for yourself.

You knew if you let them know now, they'd go on a rant of how horrible he is and how you should never even talk to him unless you want him to eat your firstborn or whatever.

They sure painted him like a horrible person but to you, Diego seemed a little charming almost.

----

#aint that a teaser?#do tell what you think and what youd maybe like to see happen #maybe ill include it if it fits the plot uwu #johnny joestar x reader #johnny x reader #jjba x reader

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tanoraqui · 1 year

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Ask meme can I get a uhhhh Necromancy Thing 3 please.

this is one of those things where a short story idea blooms into a novel idea, and then you gently drop it because you're not really interested in writing that novel, but also, it haunts you as a Cool Premise, and maybe you thought about the magic system so much that you made a chart to explain it when you should've been taking notes in a staff meeting.

Worldbuilding premise is: magic is the manipulation of spirits living or dead, so it's basically just necromancy or what amounts to mind control...or some help with emergency healing, if you need to keep someone alive long enough to sew them up. (Or, rarely, manipulation of non-sentient living things or even inanimate objects, which teeechnically have spirits as well, but that takes so much power that it's basically impossible.)

Plot premise is: a new "witch" (wise woman/healer) has moved into the hut in the woods near Teen Main Character's rural town. TMC either figures out that she's secretly a necromancer or just that she's more interesting than anyone else here and begs an apprenticeship...but before she can start, royal soldiers come to arrest the witch, or at least to take her back to the capital city, because she is a) definitely a necromancer, in fact, supposed to be the Royal Necromancer ie royal healer and emergency military resource but we don't admit that, and also she's a princess, younger sister of the crown prince.

And! Tensions are high in this country for some reason, and the soldiers are dicks, and there's the start of a fight between the locals and the soldiers and TMC is killed!...very briefly. Because Princess-Witch/Necromancer brings her back before anyone can notice! And then is like, "Fine, I'll go, but I'm bringing my apprentice" (and to TMC: "You have to stay close to me or I can't keep you bound to your body.") (Her body is dead, this magic system doesn't do full resurrection. But it won't rot or anything while her spirit is tied to it.)

Partly the princess did this out of "this was my fault" guilt, and mostly she did it out of ruthless practical "I ran away for good reason (notably: my brother is a dick) but if this Nice Young Woman dies it could spark serious civil unrest and I don't want that."

So now TMC gets to have all the adventure she dreamed of (except maybe not this much of it), learning magic and dealing with deadly politics (except she's already dead and nobody must know) in the royal palace! By the way, "Royal Necromancer" is an old title but as of a few generations ago when this family defeated the previous ruler, a classic Evil Lich King, the Royal Necromancer in conjunction somehow with hte bearer of the crown is responsible for keeping subdued the giant army of skeletons which their great-great-grandparents didn't destroy so much as...weaken and bury. Possibly the crown prince wants to raise them and get conquesting? Which is why the princess ran away? Except, note, that didn't actually solve the problem even if she hadn't been found. Their mother the Queen is old and ill/dying, ofc.

By the end of the book, TMC can necromance well enough to keep her own spirit bound to her undying body, which technically speaking makes her a potentially-immortal lich. It's fine. Also, her less adventurous best friend from home showed up at some point with plans to rescue her from whatever she'd gotten herself into and they would've kissed but TMC is ace (with aceness exacerbated by being dead), so instead they just cuddled and defeated a giant skeleton army together. Idk what happened to the throne.

I wrote about 5 pages of a first chapter and then stopped. But man, now I'm looking at my erratically maintained list of original plot bunnies and feeling some itch... There are short stories here that I could probably write...

Shoutout to the multiple fantasy worlds, classic and modern, for which I have thorough magic system worldbuilding and the barest concept of a plot. I could do an ask meme about just those.

#ask meme #brawltogethernow #my fic #it is...possible. that you can directly trace my interest in necromancy as a magic system #to the multiple close family deaths i experienced in autumn 2014.#it is in fact objectively factual #listen it's about love and grief and siezing the universe by the lapels and SCREAMING that you REFUSE to accept the consequences #of your actions; of others' actions; of the natural progression of life/time/terrible but fundamentally random chance #necromancy and time travel actually but time travel...stresses me out philosophically?#i'm too pro-free will to tolerate fate or fixed timelines; but a complete multiverse of EVERY /POSSIBLE/ timeline is...a nightmare

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doodles-dearest · 1 year

Text

made this for my bf for valentines idk if hes read it yet but i hope whoever sees this does ((late) update: he did!! xe loves it!! im a happy boyo now with validation <3)

Steve just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Worse than giving up his carefree life to become a people pleasing king of highschool.

Worse than going to apologise to Nancy back in '83, only to get dragged into all that Upside Down bullshit.

Worse than everything he ever did.

He let his chance with Eddie Munson go, and now he's sitting in the rain, wishing he wasn't a coward.

———

Valentine's Day. A day of love, of cheesy cards, and the worst day of the year for Steve Harrington.

Every year in the past he told himself it'd be different, he'd have the perfect Valentine's Day; but of course that never happened. The last good one he can remember was so long ago, he was about nine or so, and a boy (girl? Person? It was so long ago and Steve's memory was so bad nowadays that he wasn't sure) had rushed up to him and shoved a heart shaped card into his chest before running away. The card was clearly homemade, obnoxious hearts everywhere, covered in glue. It was made with love though, love that not many people had ever shown him since. Now it sat tucked in the back of Steve's closet, along with his sexuality.

This year, he was giving up. He was going to treat it like any other day, to the best of his abilities. Which was difficult, considering everyone else around him seemed to have a valentine. Robin was busy with Nancy, so hanging out with either of them was out. The kids all had their various valentines– Steve tends not to get into their love lives, the complex web that it is. Argyle and Jonathan were getting high together, which Steve reckoned was their version of a date. There was Eddie, but with a face like his and a wit like that, he was most likely snuggling up to someone too. It was strange, Steve hated picturing Eddie with someone more than he did picturing the others. The idea of Eddie wrapping an arm around a girl's shoulder, offering them his jacket, glancing at their lips, sent a dark, hostile feeling creeping through Steve's chest. He tried to ignore the thought.

So, Steve just decided that once his shift was over, he'd go home and get as wasted as possible. His plans were thwarted however, when the very metalhead he was just thinking of came trotting into Family Video, his chains and rings clinking as he walked, announcing his arrival.

"Ah, Munson, here to grab a rom-com for your valentine?" Steve commented dully. It came out a little saltier than he'd intended.

Eddie pulled a face. "Someone's grumpy. Valentine's Day not your thing, King Stevie? I thought it would be considering you're an absolutely brilliant charmer." He waved his hands around dramatically, Steve just rolled his eyes.

"It's not my fault Valentine's is always the worst day of the year for me." He grumbled back. "Now, the rom-coms are in the section with all the dumb hearts and confetti and…" Steve waved his hands around vaguely. "Shit."

"Actually, my dear Stevie, I'm also without a valentine. So, I was wondering if you'd like to–"

Steve cut him off, that sour creeping feeling vanishing. "Get wasted out of our minds? Hell yes. My place or yours?"

Eddie looked a bit taken aback, almost like he was going to say something rather different. "Mine?"

"Sounds great." Steve smiled, his eyes brighter now. "I'll see you after my shift."

"Need me to pick you up, big boy?" Eddie smirked. Steve rolled his eyes again, but he couldn't help but feel a certain type of hotness under his collar due to the nickname.

"I'll be fine, thanks. See you in a bit." Steve grinned.

The metalhead gave him finger guns and imitated a southern accent. "Whatever you say, pardner." And he trotted out the store as if on a horse, leaving Steve giggling and smiling.

———

The rest of the day went better, thankfully. Sure there were lovey dovey couples coming in to get their movies that they'd inevitably neglect just so they could make goo goo eyes at each other, but Steve had Eddie and booze to look forward to, and that thought kept him light and airy all throughout the day. He watched as the clock ticked to 5 and he rushed out the door, flipping the open sign to closed, before jumping into his beamer and racing off to the trailer, unable to stop smiling.

At that point he wasn't sure why he was so happy, really. It was just two guys hanging out and getting drunk on Valentine's Day. That was normal.

"Normal friend stuff." He mumbled to himself as he parked. He felt a sudden pang in his stomach of… surely not– butterflies. No, not butterflies, you can't get butterflies for someone you're just friends with. He was just nervous. But why would he be nervous? He sighed and shook his head. He was being an idiot; so much of an idiot in fact that he hadn't noticed Eddie tapping on the window.

"You gonna sit out here all evening, Stevie boy?" He said with a lopsided grin. Steve rolled his eyes and got out. He did that alot with Eddie; not in a dismissive way, of course. He just felt he had to, or else he'd let something else out, something he wouldn't be able to explain away.

And he definitely came close to a reaction like that when Eddie presented a heart shaped box. "For you." His tone was more subdued, his smile suddenly less confident. Steve took them with some hesitation, wondering if it was some sort of joke.

"They're chocolates." Eddie broke the silence that Steve didn't even realise had begun. "There's a dumb card inside too, here." He took the box back, their hands brushing for a moment Steve wished lasted forever. Carefully, he opened it, and in it sat a heart shaped card, almost exactly like the one Steve had received so many years ago. It had the same type of obnoxious hearts glued on, but placed with more articulation this time. He took the card, holding it as if it were a valuable antique. Without even needing to open it to see the chicken-scratch handwriting of "To Steve", he could feel the love put in it. He hoped Eddie might've signed his name this time, so he'd remember who brightened up his Valentine's.

Eddie was looking at him intensely, studying his expression, trying to read his emotions. "It's stupid, I'm sorry." He mumbled, taking Steve's silence as a bad sign.

"Thank you." Steve practically whispered, his eyes meeting Eddie's. They stayed like that, for a moment, their brown eyes locked together for what seemed like an eternity. Steve wasn't sure if Eddie could tell how much the gift meant, but in his heart he hoped he could. In Eddie's eyes though, he could see so much hurt, so much hope. The gift meant a lot to him too, it was to test the waters, to see if perhaps, Steve might like him in a way different to friendship.

Steve felt like Eddie could see so much of him at that moment, those big brown eyes pierced his soul like a pin in a balloon. It was like he could see everything about him, and Steve felt bare and open. It unsettled him somewhat, while also giving him a feeling of belonging. Eddie understood, he got what Steve had been through. He just wasn't ready to share that part of himself with Eddie yet, and so, Steve broke the moment, looking away at the floor.

"We should head inside, it's freezing." He mumbled, slowly walking into the trailer, clutching the card to his chest. Eddie lagged behind briefly before catching him up, and then, he put his jacket around Steve's shoulders. This was all… new. This affection. He wasn't sure what to make of it, really. It stirred feelings in him, feelings he tried so hard to bury so long ago. He didn't say anything, just kept on walking.

"Wanna watch a movie or something then?" Eddie smiled, his confidence returning. This was becoming more and more like a date as it went on, Steve noted. He tried to ignore it. Just two guys watching a movie on Valentine's Day.

"Totally normal and platonic." Steve mumbled.

Eddie frowned confusedly. "What was that?"

"Nothing, uh, nothing." Steve shook his head. "We can watch a movie if you want, yeah."

Eddie smiled again, and how Steve wished he could make Eddie smile like that more. "Great, what do you want, The Wicker Man, The Dead Zone–"

Steve grimaced. Despite having seen ungodly horrors in his real life, he still couldn't handle horror movies.

Eddie rolled his eyes and smiled. "Fine, what do you suggest then?"

"That Star Wars one? You know, it's called, uh… Back to the Future?"

And so began their night of idiocy, dumbassery and intoxication.

———

A couple hours later, and Steve was so drunk he could barely move. Eddie, who handled his booze better, was very entertained by Steve's drunken antics.

"And so, Eds, I told her, d'you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty–" He paused to hiccup. "Fifty three minutes 'n' five seconds? People who like boobies, y'know? Boobies!" Steve flourished with his hands, waving them about so dramatically that he nearly rolled off the couch.

Eddie giggled; while yes, he could handle his alcohol, he was still drunk. "I don't like boobies."

"What? Dude, c'mon, they're boobies, you can just…" Steve made grabbing motions with his hands. "Squish squish."

Eddie sighed. "No it's not that I don't like boobies altogether, it's just… I only like 'em on men."

There was silence for a moment, as it sunk in for both of them that Eddie had just outed himself.

"Men boobies." Steve giggled.

Eddie nodded and smiled. "Men boobies."

———

More time passed, and soon they were fresh out of alcohol and were sobering up slowly. They were sitting in a comfortable silence, when Eddie asked the question.

"Do you like men?"

Steve didn't respond. The effects of the alcohol and his head starting to throb didn't put him in the best state to answer. He wanted to say yes, because that was the honest answer, but all his life he'd been told that he didn't. Yes he knew the people telling him that were wrong on basically every other account but when you're told something enough times, you start to believe it, no matter who's saying it.

Eddie was looking at him. "Steve?"

"I don't know." Steve sighed and brushed a hand through his hair.

"Well…" Eddie sounded hesitant. "We could find out?"

Steve looked at him, only to see him getting closer, looking at his lips, leaning in and…

———

That's all Steve can remember. The next thing he knew he was at Lovers Lake at quarter to four in the morning, gazing into the water, raindrops pattering down on him, he'd be shivering if it weren't for Eddie's jacket.

He ran away, and now he's sitting all alone, drunk, on Valentine's Day. He had a chance, Eddie was going to kiss him, be his valentine, love him; but he's thrown that away, and for what?

I'm a coward. He thinks to himself. A dumb little coward who can't even kiss a boy.

He wanted to. Wants to. But for some reason, in that moment he'd just ran, ran away from his friend, no, his crush. He's sure it's a crush now. What else could it be?

Then, behind him, he hears the unmistakable sound of a beaten up old van and metal music. Eddie.

He doesn't turn around, he can't face Eddie, not like this, not when he has so much shame to deal with. He could swim away, avoid the confrontation. No that's dumb. He thinks. Then, before he can think of another plan, Eddie's sitting beside him.

"Hey." Eddie whispers. "I am so, so sorry. I thought…" He sighs. "I guess I misread the signals, I thought for some dumb reason you might like me back but I–" Steves stops him talking by placing a hand on his.

"You didn't misread anything, Eds, I just panicked and ran like I always do. Feelings are just… They're confusing. I'm confused. All I know is I really, really like you." He turns to look at Eddie, to gauge his reaction, their eyes lock.

There's silence. All they can hear is the rain slowly getting more intense as they stare into each other's eyes.

Eddie drops his gaze for a second before bringing it back. "I like you too."

And so the two boys sit together in the rain, hand in hand, sitting before a heart of water as they figure out how they feel.

#idk why i decided to make part of it present tense i hate writing in present tense it confuses me #this was gonna be a rain confession but i fucked it up accidentally #eh #its still alright ig #cant wait for in 2 months time when i finally get motivation to write again #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fluff #repressed steve #stranger things #st #valentines day #steveddie #eddiesteve #fanfic #2k words bby

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