#i wanted to do this since a long time 😭
Note
Hii I am making a Spencer Reid x citizen! F reader. They have been dating for a really long time but for a while reader has been dealing with a stalker, suddenly the stalker becomes much more violent and maybe even kidnaps her if we want to get real cray cray. Just lots of protective reid and angst to comfort!!
don't lose your head | S.R.
a stalker uses your work as a tudor history professor to follow your every move, so you go to the only place you can think of for help - the BAU
who? spencer reid x fem!reader
category: angst
content warnings: professor!reader, fiance!spencer, erotomaniac stalker, lots of tudor history facts, kidnapping, decapitation, happy ending, s11 (post-maeve), guns, death, spencer feels a lot of guilt, unhelpful police, exhaustion, nausea, dry heaving
word count: 3.71k
a/n: yall if i wanted to make this into a series would you read it 😭 i had so much fun writing this!!! and yes the title is a reference to six! thank you sooo much for requesting!!
you
You told Spencer after the fourth note. While the first two had been near your office door – harmless enough to have been brushed off as a student prank, the third note had been left on your desk. When someone had gotten into your locked office to leave you an intense love letter, you knew you were out of your depth.
After years of hearing stories about the BAU needing to battle the chain of command, you thought the best thing to do was to first go to the campus police. You were a professor, so the natural assumption was that they’d look into it.
They didn’t even take a report. No one listened to you.
From the campus police, you went into the city police, then the county, and by the time you marched into DC Metro, you hadn’t slept in a day. Spencer was in Utah on a case, and you didn’t have anywhere else to go. Once DC Metro told you there was nothing they could do without an open investigation or further evidence, you went back to your apartment.
The fourth note was there waiting for you, covering the camera that you kept on your front door.
Since you had the first three notes already in your bag, you plucked the newest one from where it was stationed on the front door and stuffed it in with the others before making the trip down to Quantico.
You had no idea when the team would be back, but the security guards at the front desk recognized you from the times you’d come to pick Spencer up or bring him lunch and they let you up anyway.
There were no notifications on your phone from Spencer letting you know that they were flying home, but the only place you felt safe was in their headquarters. The idea of going to see Penelope crossed your mind, but as a profiler-adjacent, she’d likely see right through you. You never dropped by, especially not when Spencer was away.
Settling yourself at his desk, you pulled an empty manila folder from a drawer, placed the notes neatly inside, and left it on Spencer’s desk before sitting in his chair and waiting for something to happen.
“Hey, Reid,” you heard a familiar voice from behind you. Slowly, you spun the chair around and looked at the team as they filtered in the glass doors.
Confused, Spencer tilted his head at you, clearly wondering why you were staking out the bullpen as he approached you. As he got closer, he observed the bags under your eyes, bloodshot from your lack of sleep over the last few days, “What’s wrong?”
Chewing on the inside of your lip, you clutched the folder like your life depended on it – for all you knew, it did. Your eyes followed Spencer as he knelt in front of you, accepting the folder when you handed it to him, “I think I’m in trouble,” you whispered, voice raspy from lack of use.
Your fiancé flipped through the pages, reading each of them a few times while you garnered attention from other members of the BAU. Tara, Derek, and JJ all crowded around Spencer’s desk, curious on your surprise appearance.
“I…” you faltered as you tried to explain what felt inexplicable. “The first one was folded over the doorknob of my office, the second one was slid beneath the door to my office, the third one was left on my desk, and the fourth one,” you glanced nervously at Spencer, “it was on the apartment door.”
Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, “apartment door? Our apartment door?” As he questioned you, he stood up, leaving you with four federal agents staring down at you.
Despondently, you nodded, steepling your fingers in your lap and letting your shoulders droop.
“I’ll go get Hotch,” JJ said, nodding at everyone else to confirm her intentions before turning around, making her way up the steps to Hotch’s office.
From there, you ended up in the roundtable room. Tara had personally brought the letters for the lab to be checked for prints, and the techs had sent Garcia scans that were now projected on the screen. Each member of the team had them up on tablets, but you and Spencer knew the words by heart.
Shaking her head, Tara looked up at everyone, “I mean, who writes like this anymore? ‘But if you please to do the office of a true loyal mistress and friend, and to give yourself up body and heart to me, who will be, and have been, your most loyal servant,” she shrugged, continuing to look over the letters.
“They’re love letters,” you explained, tugging the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your palms before crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “The words aren’t original, they’re all passages from the love letters of Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn.”
Pointing to something on her screen, JJ frowned, “And what does his greeting mean? He always starts with ‘my rose without a thorn’.”
Nodding dejectedly, you focused your eyes on the now-empty manila folder on the table in front of you. “That was what Henry VIII called Catherine Howard, she was his youngest wife. It’s widely accepted among scholars that she was around seventeen when they got married, but others say she could’ve been as young as fifteen,” you answered, wondering if more details would help the investigation.
“So, we have Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, which wives were those?” Rossi asked, looking around the table for someone who knew the answer.
In the middle of scrawling something on an evidence board, Spencer answered quickly, “Two and five.”
Folding your hands in your lap, you scoured your memory for anything that could be helpful. When Hotch asked if those numbers meant everything to you, you just shook your head. “Is there any significance to the two wives he chose being Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard?”
Your lips parted in surprise as the blood drained from your face, “They were the two wives who were beheaded.”
An eerie silence fell over the room, interrupted only by a chime from Penelope’s laptop, her shoulders slumped forward in abject disappointment, “The lab didn’t find anything on the letters. No prints, no hair… nothing, but uh…” her voice trailed off as she looked up at Hotch, it was almost like she was seeking permission.
Each member of the BAU looked at each other with the same concerned expression on their faces. “What do you all know that I don’t?”
“Two bodies turned up last week in the greater DC area,” Morgan was the brave soul who spoke up, “they were both missing their heads, and they were both college professors.”
Goosebumps spread over your entire body, a chill of fear causing the tip of your nose to feel cold, “Oh, I…” you fumbled over your words, standing up from your chair and rushing to leave the roundtable, nearly throwing yourself out of the bullpen on your way to the women’s restroom.
Entering one of the stalls, you haphazardly gathered your hair at the back of your head and you dry heaved into the toilet. You dropped to your knees as nothing came out.
A knock at the door barely garnered your attention, you didn’t even bother responding as Spencer was already entering the stall, “Oh, honey.”
That was it, you sat back on your heels as tears welled in your eyes, looking up at Spencer as he sat down next to you. Immediately, you turned your body to face him and leaned forward.
Welcomingly, Spencer grabbed you, firmly wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you into his lap, “I have you. I’m right here.” His voice was gentle, no more than a whisper as he kept a firm pressure around your body, “You’re safe with me,” he reassured you, using one hand to keep you upright and the other to rub your back as you cried.
Your face was buried in the crook of his neck as you wept, the sensation of fear ran through your body like electricity, and you felt content for the first time in days in the safety of Spencer’s arms. “I- I just teach. I’m n- not built for this,” you cried, words slightly muffled by his shoulder.
You were a history professor, teaching a course on the six wives of Henry VIII, this was never even in the realm of things you considered when putting together your syllabus.
Taking a shaky breath, you pulled away from Spencer, and he reached behind you for a wad of toilet paper to dry your face. “Spence,” you said, though it came out as more of a whimper.
“When’s the last time you slept?” He asked, cupping both of your cheeks in his hands while he studied your exhausted expression.
Shrugging, you shuffled off of him, dropping the wad of toilet paper in the bowl and flushing it, “A day? Two?” You weren’t entirely sure what day it currently was, the events of the last few had caused everything to sort of blend together.
Spencer nodded in understanding, “Okay,” he responded, slipping his phone out of his pocket before typing something out, “Why don’t you go lie down in Morgan’s office for a little while? He won’t mind.”
You blinked a few final tears from your eyes before affirming, “Yeah, uh. I need to grab something from my car.”
“Okay, are you parked in the garage? I’ll go down with you,” he offered, getting up and lending you a hand up, mumbling about the state of the bathroom floor as he did so.
After washing your hands, the two of you made your way through the hall and to the elevator before Garcia called out for Reid, “Hotch needs you for something, he said it’s urgent.”
Glancing back at you, he pursed his lips before selecting a lower-level special agent to go with you to the parking garage. “Be right back,” you told him as you stepped onto the elevator.
him
Once he was finished with Hotch, Spencer made his way back down the hallway, expecting to find yourself settling in Morgan’s office only to find it empty. Turning back in the hallway, he nearly bulldozed into Morgan and JJ, “Hey, what’s the rush?”
“Have either of you seen Y/N?” He asked, trying not to let panic rise in his voice, but there had been ample time for you to get to the parking garage and back. You should’ve been back by now.
The two of them shared a look, “Uh, no, I haven’t seen her since she left the roundtable room. Is she alright?” JJ asked, blue eyes filled with concern.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, Spencer hit the number one on speed dial – your number – and brought the phone to his ear before rushing to the elevator and moving to the side as JJ and Morgan piled in with him. Frantically pushing the button for the parking level, he cursed as the phone went to voicemail.
“Reid, what is it?” Morgan asked as the elevator started moving down.
Redialing your number, Spencer muttered to himself, hoping you’d pick up, “I sent her down with an agent. Hotch needed my apartment key so that Tara and Rossi could go look for anything.”
As the steel doors opened, the three of them drew their firearms, each of them taking a different direction when Spencer realized he didn’t even know where you had parked your car. “We have an agent down,” Morgan called out, calling Garcia and putting the phone on speaker. “Baby girl, we need medical and crime scene techs down to the lower-level parking garage,” he said into the phone.
“Spencer,” JJ called out, garnering his attention as he made his way through the garage to where JJ and Morgan were now stood, Morgan was applying pressure on Agent Franks’ wound, and JJ was looking at a car.
The passenger door to your car was open, and the vehicle was chiming as an alert to get you to close the door. As he stepped forward, something glimmered at the edge of his vision. Crouching down, he picked up your engagement ring from the cement, “He’s got her,” he said, a wave of déjà vu nearly toppling him over.
Impatiently waiting for the elevator to take him back up to the sixth floor, Spencer trudged to the roundtable room, desperate for another look at the evidence board. The dates of each letter that you had received, the content of each letter, and the reason for all of this didn’t make any sense to him.
It had to be an erotomaniac, it was the only thing that made sense. You were an object of someone’s desires, and their delusion had to have become so strong that they took you.
Quietly, someone stepped into the roundtable room behind him, “What are you thinking about?”
Imminent death. Statistics of harm and death in cases involving erotomanic kidnappings. “Synchronicity,” he answered simply, entertaining JJ’s conversation as he continued to study the letters. The love letters were at the core of it all, so the answer needed to be written in there. Everything that had come to you was almost an exact copy of words written by Henry VIII.
“Ah, that’s Jung, right?” JJ asked, her voice was kind, and she was using the same tone she used when doing cognitive interviews with victims. He didn’t have time for her pity, they were on a clock.
Sighing, Spencer picked his dry-erase marker back up and scrawled on the board, “It’s a concept that he introduced, yes. It’s meant to describe the occurrence of events which seem like they’re significantly related but there’s no discernable causation.”
JJ nodded understandingly, taking a spot next to him and looking at the notes, “And what occurrence of events are we thinking about right now?”
“I suppose more than anything, I’m wondering if there’s an action that I took in the past that somehow caused me to find myself in this situation twice,” he answered, circling the word ‘the place chosen by yourself’ on the evidence board.
Humming, JJ turned to face him, “Does Y/N know?”
Pressing his lips together in a thin, white line, he nodded tightly, “I told her years ago, when we had first started dating, actually. I never thought…” his voice trailed off as he set down the marker, “She came to me, JJ. She came here to be safe, and he grabbed her from the parking garage.”
“You sent her down there with an agent, you thought you were doing the right thing,” JJ tried to comfort him.
Scoffing dismissively, he stepped back and took a seat in one of the chairs, “I can’t stop thinking about if it would’ve made a difference. If her asking me for help would have fixed anything, or if it would have ended the same way.”
Taking a seat near him, JJ paused for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words, before responding, “We can’t really afford to think like that though, in our line of work.”
Spencer scoffed, “No, we can’t. Especially not now, but the timing of it is weird. It’s been almost exactly four years, and now…” his voice trailed off as his eye caught on something on the paper. “The timing is off,” he muttered, picking up the first letter you had received.
“What is it, Spence?” JJ asked, tilting her head to the side curiously.
Shaking his head, he read the letter again, “This letter, it’s from the first letter Henry VIII wrote to Anne Boleyn, but in this version, he says he’s been waiting for months to be with her, but they waited seven years to be together because they were waiting for his marriage to Catherine of Aragon to be annulled.”
Still confused, JJ leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, “Okay, what does that mean.”
“We ruled out a student because the crimes didn’t read as mature, but what if it’s a different kind of student?” He proposed, standing up from the chair abruptly and starting to write on the board.
Rolling her chair closer to the board, she shrugged, “I’m not sure I’m following.”
Holding up a single finger, Spencer wrote a name down on the board, “Y/N has a grad student TA, he’s been working toward his PhD for seven years. He’s been her TA for three months – that lines up with the timeline in the letters.”
“Okay,” JJ said, starting to follow along, she waved at the team members in the bullpen to get their attention before hitting the call button on the conference phone. “Penelope, what do you have on a Geoffrey Williamson? He’s a TA in Y/N’s class.”
There was typing on the other line before a sound of disgust came from the technical analyst, “He is a different kind of smarmy, it looks like he transferred programs two years ago to Y/N’s university after he… oh. It looks like he bounced from foster home to foster home as a kid, his parents never fully gave up their rights but couldn’t follow through on their case plan. He was unsuccessful in his last dissertation defense three months ago,” she continued clacking on her keyboard, “after which his mentor teacher dropped him and the school gave him one more semester before pulling his funding. He asked Y/N to be his new mentor teacher and it looks like she turned him down -very nicely, might I add.”
Scoffing, Morgan crossed his arms in front of his chest, “That sounds like a stressor and a trigger if I’ve ever heard one.
“Garcia,” Hotch spoke into the phone, “Do you have a location for Williamson?”
There was more typing as Spencer could feel his carotid pounding in his throat, “It looks like he lives in student housing, but… he recently inherited an old factory after his biological father passed away two weeks ago.”
Nodding, Hotch looked around the table, “Send us the address, and forward it to Rossi and Lewis too.”
“Done, go get her,” Penelope urged into the phone before hanging up.
He slipped your engagement ring into his pocket before adjusting the strap on his Kevlar, thrumming with nervous energy as Morgan coordinated with SWAT, waiting outside of the old textile factory as the tactical team organized themselves in front of the BAU.
Spencer and JJ took the left side, Rossi and Tara took the right, and Morgan and Hotch went through the main doors.
“No!” Your voice broke out through the steel corridors of the factory, immediately followed by a yelp.
There was an awful noise then, like metal scraping against itself, “Fucking say it!” An unfamiliar male voice broke out in a holler.
Steeling himself, Spencer had to hold himself back from rushing into the room where your voice was coming from, each one of your sobs was like another strike at his resolve. “Good Christian people,” he heard you say, your voice was strained, “I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to- to-“ Your voice broke off into a heap of wails.
“What is she saying?” JJ whispered, waiting for SWAT to clear the corridor.
All of the blood had drained from Spencer’s face, “She’s reciting Anne Boleyn’s execution speech, from right before she was beheaded.”
JJ nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation – they needed to get in there, and they needed to do it quickly. SWAT waved them over, and the two of them filtered through the open doorway. The space was dimly illuminated by candles, but the only thing Spencer could focus on was your head, bowed toward the ground as you watched the ground. Above you, Geoffrey was holding a sword, ready to cut your head off.
“Geoffrey Williamson, FBI!” JJ called out, announcing themselves to the UnSub before he could get any further in his convoluted execution, “Put the sword down! Let Y/N go.”
Spencer clocked the UnSub’s grip tightening on the sword as he zeroed in on you, “I can’t! She has to pay for this! She has to finish the speech.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but as you raised your head slightly, he found himself silenced by your gaze. Roll, he mouthed the words to you, hoping Williamson was too focused on JJ to notice what he was trying to tell you.
“And by the law I am judged to die,” you continued the speech, your voice wavering.
Taking a deep breath, Spencer watched as the UnSub raised the sword despite JJ’s instructions to set it on the ground, “Y/N, stop talking!”
Releasing another sob, you finished the execution speech, “And therefore I will speak nothing against it.”
As soon as the last word was out of your mouth, Williamson brought the sword down, and as it swung, two things happened. JJ pulled the trigger on her firearm, killing the UnSub, and you rolled out of the way, the chains that bound your hands and feet clanging on the ground as you did so.
Holstering his weapon, Spencer ran over to you, dropping to his knees in front of you, “It’s done. It’s over,” he tried to reassure you, but you had begun struggling against your restraints as Spencer tried to settle you down, “Stop, it’s me, baby. Baby, it’s me,” he said desperately.
Once you had maneuvered yourself into a sitting position, you looked at Spencer with big, watery eyes before completely breaking down. “I just wanted it to end,” you babbled as your face crumpled.
“I know, honey,” he said, reaching out to pull you close as JJ contacted the rest of the team, asking for a chain cutter to get your restraints off of you as they weren’t able to find the keys on the body. “He’s gone, you’re safe,” he urged, holding you tightly.
You weren’t seriously injured, but there were enough bumps and bruises to make Spencer insist on a trip to the hospital. Until the EMTs could make it to you, he was fine with holding you on the floor of the factory. Keeping you close. Keeping you safe with him.
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spencer reid x reader
spencer forgets his lunch at home, so you decide to bring it to him. what’s the worst that could happen?
cw: fem!non-bau!reader, roommate!spencer, angst, fluff, slight hurt/comfort, mutual pining
note: this is the longest thing i’ve written on this blog 😭 little nervous abt posting it ngl but i hope you guys like it 💓
You’re puttering around in the kitchen when you notice it on the counter. Spencer’s lunch, a sticky note with his name taped to the front. Immediately you grab your phone to shoot him a text, saying that you’ll bring it to the office for him. It’s your day off, so it’s not like you have any other plans.
The drive there doesn’t take too long. You hit some traffic, but it ends up moving quickly, which you’re grateful for. When you arrive at headquarters, the process of getting in is easy. Spencer had given them your information, like your ID and your car’s license plate, so you’re in their databases. You’re not sure how you feel about that, but since it makes things easier, you let it slide.
Once you’re in the building, it doesn’t take too long for you to get lost. The place is huge, a maze of long hallways that seem to lead everywhere and nowhere all at once. You’re about to panic when you spot a directory sign that has the Behavioral Analysis Unit listed, and a sigh of relief escapes your lips as you make your way towards it.
When you walk into the bullpen, you freeze, your eyes flickering about the room for any sign of your roommate.
“Can I help you?”
You jump and turn towards the source of the voice, face growing warm. “Um, hi! You must be Mr. Hotchner, right? I just—I’m looking for Spencer, is—is he here?” you stutter out. “He… he forgot his lunch,” you hold it up lamely, giving the man you’ve heard so much about a sheepish smile.
He opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, you spot Spencer coming up behind him. A close lipped smile adorns his face as he sidesteps his boss to get to you.
“Hi. What—what are you doing here?” he asks. His gaze travels from your face to the lunch bag gripped in your hands, and his mouth parts slightly. “Oh. You brought my lunch for me?”
“Mhm,” you nod, holding it out to him.
When he takes it from you, his fingers graze yours for a moment, making your heart flip. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t mind.”
The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you seem to remember that Spencer’s boss is standing about a foot away. Your roommate jumps and turns to him with a sheepish smile.
“Oh, Hotch, um, this is—this is my roommate,” he says, his face turning red.
“It’s great to meet you, sir,” you say, holding out your hand.
The man reaches out to take it with a small smile on his face, his handshake firm but gentle. “Please, call me Hotch. We’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally be able to put a face to the name.”
You stare at him. “What do you mean?” you ask, your heart doing somersaults as you glance sideways at Spencer, who’s got a panicked look on his face.
“Reid is always—”
“Hey! Um, I could give you a tour, if you want?” Spencer blurts out. “You know, since it’s your first time here.”
Your face burns. “Sure,” you say, clearing your throat. “It was great to meet you again, sir.”
Spencer is grabbing your hand before Hotch can respond, and you stumble after him as he pulls you away. You don’t get very far, though, before a woman appears in front of you, all bright colors and smiles.
“Oh my god! You must be Reid’s roommate,” she exclaims, immediately reaching forward to wrap her arms around you. “I’m Penelope Garcia, the BAU’s amazingly wonderful tech analyst.” When she pulls back, she rests her hands on your shoulders. “Wow. Spencer always talks about how pretty you are, you know. And he’s right.”
“Garcia!” you hear Spencer groan, but it sounds far away.
“He does?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, suddenly feeling like the air has been stolen from your lungs.
A man appears from seemingly nowhere next to Penelope, his smile wide and bright as his eyes flicker between you and Spencer. “You’re pretty boy’s girlfriend, aren’t you?”
Penelope slaps him on the shoulder. “Derek! You can’t just ask that.”
“Why not?” he frowns at her. “I’m only joking.”
You gape at him, your brain scrambling as you try to find the right words to respond. Spencer comes to the rescue, thankfully.
“You guys, she—she’s just my roommate!”
“Okay, man, whatever you say,” Derek grins.
“Hey, don’t listen to him. He’s just being a jerk, okay?” Spencer says softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.
But you don’t hear him, still too busy thinking about the word Derek had said earlier. Girlfriend. Your heart pounds in your chest, breath caught in your throat.
“Sorry, I—excuse me,” you mutter. “I—I have to go to the bathroom.”
You avoid looking at their faces as you turn and flee, nearly running until you manage to find your way to the restrooms. The door slams behind you once you’re inside, and you cover your face with your hands, attempting to take a deep breath.
Everything that’s happened since you got to headquarters replays in your mind. Hotch saying that Spencer always talks about you. Penelope telling you that he’s always saying how…pretty you are. And then Derek, calling you Spencer’s girlfriend.
It’s all too much. Too overwhelming.
You’re so in your head that you don’t hear a knock at the door, followed by Spencer’s voice calling out your name. “Are you okay? Can I come in?”
“I’m fine,” you call out, but the crack in your voice says otherwise.
“I’m coming in.”
“Spence—”
Your protest is cut off as the door opens. A frown curves his lips when his eyes land on you. “What’s wrong?”
You just shake your head and let out a teary laugh, avoiding his gaze. “Nothing, Spence. It’s stupid really. I think—I’m just gonna go.”
“But—”
“I said I’m fine, Spencer.”
That shuts him up. You don’t usually use his full name, so when you do he knows not to push any further. “Oh. I… okay. Will you be okay getting back?” he asks softly.
“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding.
“Text me when you get home? Just so I know you made it safe.”
For some reason, his request makes your stomach twist and a lump form in your throat.
“Yeah. I will,” you breathe out, desperately hoping that he didn’t hear the way your voice trembled.
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⊱ You Can Do Better Than Me ⊰ || Boothill X Reader
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Character(s): Boothill (Honkai: Star Rail)
Reader Type: Human, Not the Trailblazer (Gender-Neutral Pronouns)
Warning(s): Break-up (Miscommunication/Assumptions… Not Permanent), Negative Body Image/Self-talk (Regarding Boothill), Use of Petnames (Boothill calls Reader “darlin’” and “sweets” and Reader calls Boothill “honey” and “love”), Slightly Suggestive Ending.
Genre: Drabble, Angst, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-Established Romantic Relationship
Word Count: ~2500 words
Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”
Author’s Note: Hello everyone, I come back to you briefly with a random Boothill drabble because this cowboy has been on my brain for the past three months and I needed to get something written for him ASAP. I actually got both him and his lightcone on release day, so I’m still hyped about that (didn’t even need to break my F2P status either hehehe 😎). I will get around to writing a multi-chapter fic for him as soon as my summer semester is over and all of the current requests in the ask box have been answered. I’ve been managing the workload relatively well so far, but it’s genuinely been so overwhelming in terms of content/information that my brain can barely form coherent sentences after class and work. 😭 Anyways, have some self-conscious Boothill and my beloved hurt/comfort. Maybe instead of saving the horse, we should save the cowboy. Also… let me know if anyone is interested in a part two, and I’ll be happy to write it. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Tag-List: @anonima-2 – I know you wanted me to tag you if I got around to writing a Boothill X Reader fic, so here it is! It may not be a multi-chapter one, but I hope you enjoy this little drabble.
→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡
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You had known Boothill for quite some time now. You had crossed paths with the elusive Galaxy Ranger throughout the years, so many times that you eventually lost count. Three times was uncommon, five times was rare, but over twenty times? That was absolutely unheard of given the vast expanse of space. It got to the point where you both noticed how frequently you would meet, the two of you making jokes that the universe was pushing you together.
Boothill had thought for a while you were sent to capture and/or kill him by the IPC but, after a particularly intense “discussion” (where he proceeded to hold you at gunpoint, as he frequently did with most people), you were able to confirm that all of the times you two had met were indeed just an exceedingly rare coincidence. It was something you would occasionally bring up to tease him about nowadays, poking fun at the fact he had literally held his future partner at gunpoint. It was a memorable event to reminisce on when asked by others ‘how did you two meet?’.
Years had passed since that unforgettable interaction, and both you and Boothill were happy and content in your current relationship. All of that time together with him had given you insight into how the cowboy typically behaved. He could be brash and rush into trouble head-first, but he was also immensely intelligent and could think of a plan on the fly to get himself out of even the stickiest situations. He was the type of person who frequently spoke his mind, not allowing his tampered-with Synesthesia Beacon to completely censor what he wanted to say… which is why you were as worried as you were lately.
Your boyfriend hadn’t been as talkative as he usually was. He had returned from a three-month-long trek around the galaxy a few days ago, and he had been distant ever since he came back. His replies had been clipped, and he had a strange look in his eye whenever he glanced your way; he hadn’t even looked at you for more than a few seconds since his return.
Tentatively, you made your way over to where he was sitting by an open window in your home, the breeze gently blowing the strands of his black-and-white hair to and fro. You stepped closer to stand next to him as you asked, voice tender as you spoke, “Boothill, honey, what’s wrong? You’ve been more reserved than usual these past few days, and I just want to check to see if you’re ok–…”
Then, he spoke, his voice firm as he cut off the rest of what you were going to say, “…I wanna break up.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach at his words, and you felt your palms begin to clam up with sweat as you whispered, “W… What?” You swallowed harshly, stepping closer to him as you asked, double-checking to see if you had heard him correctly, “What did you just say?”
“I said I wanna break up.” He says once more, voice rough as he turns his head ever-so-slightly to watch you from his peripheral. It felt like the world had stopped moving when he confirmed what you had always hoped you would never have to hear, and you feel your eyes begin to water. He finally, after so many days, looks at you directly after what has felt like eons. Whatever expression was on your face caused him to flinch before he looked away once more, staring at his hat on the nearby table.
Boothill sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he continues to speak, his voice gentler than usual as he tells you, “I don’t think this,” He pauses, taking his hand and gesturing toward himself before finishing his thought, “…is good fer you.”
Your emotions were fluctuating so quickly that your mind didn’t know what to do with all of them. First, you were worried about your boyfriend, then you were heartbroken when he said he wanted you two to go your separate ways, and now? Now you were angry, a sudden burst of frustration filling your veins at his reasoning behind wanting to end your relationship. Your heart aches as you exclaim, trying not to pay attention to the wetness forming along your lashes, “Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”
Boothill is back to refusing to look at you, so you try to move into his line of sight as you ask, your hands flailing about as you speak in a desperation-laced tone, “What, exactly, isn’t ‘good for me’ Boothill?”
He turns his head to look at you, standing up from where he had been sitting as he holds his hands out, trying to placate you as he says hastily, “Listen don’t – don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”
“How can I not get the wrong idea when you suddenly tell me you want to end our relationship!?” You yell back, feeling the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. You were angry, sure, but the soul-crushing feeling of separating from the man you loved so deeply pierced your heart like a knife. Your frustration quickly began to be tainted with sorrow, your voice coming out softly as you ask him, your mind desperate for some kind of answer as you place a hand on your chest, “Did I… Did I do something for you to come to this decision?”
Panic floods his expression immediately as he reaches out, his hands resting on your shoulders as he leans down to look at your face. He quickly tells you, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your cheek as his thumb brushes away your tears, “No, no, no, no – you didn’t do anythin’, darlin’. You’ve been perfect in every way, I just…”
He pauses, gaze traveling to the ground as he thinks of what to say. His cold, metallic fingers against your skin are comforting to you in a way you couldn’t describe – comforting in a way no one else would be able to understand. Boothill’s eyes meet with yours once more as he continues speaking with a bittersweet smile, “You could do so much better than me, sweets. I don’t want to hold you back.”
The anger you had felt was suddenly back in full force as you asked him, brows furrowed as you questioned, “How?”
Your hands come up to hold onto his, the one that was still lovingly cupping your face as you ask, leaning forward toward him as you speak, “How could I do better than you? What are you holding me back from?”
Boothill shakes his head, saying with a frown, “There’s so many things I can’t give you… I can’t give ya a peaceful life, I can’t give ya a family…” His voice cracks slightly at the word, but he continues to speak as he begins to pull his hand away from your face, “You deserve someone who’s around more often – someone who can be there for ya whenever you need ‘em.”
Boothill chuckles bitterly, removing his hand from your grasp as walks over to grab his hat off of the nearby table, and you’ve never felt so cold and empty in your entire life. You watch helplessly as he places the hat on his head, staring as he begins to make his way toward the front door as he tells you, “You deserve someone who doesn’t cause you to jump every time their freezin’ cold hands touch ya – someone who can actually feel ya.”
You step toward him, reaching out to take his hand in yours and effectively stopping him in his tracks as you say firmly, “Boothill, shut the fuck up. Aren’t you going to at least ask me what I think about this?”
Boothill sighs, turning back around to look at you as he speaks. He doesn’t do anything to remove his hand from your grasp, instead gently squeezing it in a comforting manner as he tells you, “Listen, sweets, I just think it’s for the better that–…”
“No, it’s not.” You say, your voice strong despite the tears that had begun to flow down your face. You look up at him, bringing his hand to place on your chest as you tightly hold it over your heart, telling him firmly and genuinely despite the way your voice cracks, “I don’t care if you can’t give me those things. When did I even say that’s what I wanted in life?”
“Why wouldn’t you want that?” Boothill asks, looking down at you as if you had grown a second head, as if everything he said he couldn’t give you was something that everyone would want. He looks conflicted as he tells you, trying to take his hand back as he steps away from you and closer to the front door, “You deserve to be happy – you deserve to have someone who’s there for you.”
“What if all I want is you, huh?” You tell him, refusing to let go of his hand – refusing to let him leave your life in such a way. Your hold on Boothill’s hand was tight because you knew, deep down, if you let his hand slide out of yours, you’d never see him again. You look up at him as you speak, a spark of determination in your eyes which causes Boothill’s cheeks to flush a light shade of blue, “No one else can give me you. You’re the one that makes me happy – not some dream life, not some perfect family – just you.”
“You don’t want me, darlin’ – I promise, once I’m gone, you’ll move on an’ another lucky fella will have the honor of being able to love ya.” Boothill tells you with furrowed brows and a smile, his sharp teeth peeking out from behind his lips as he tries to convince you he’s not what you want. You could feel your eyebrow twitch in frustration at his words, your tears slowing down as you refute his claim.
“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” You ask him, a tinge of hurt and frustration mixed in your voice as you reach out to firmly hold both of his hands in your own. Boothill allows you to do so with no fanfare, a conflicted expression on his face; his fingers twitch in your hold. He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before once again looking at him as you whisper, “Listen, if you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you or hold you back, but…” You pause, smiling warmly at him before continuing, “but I want you. I want to be with you, not this hypothetical ‘fella’ you’ve envisioned who would give me a perfect life.”
Before Boothill could open his mouth to try and argue again, you quickly add on as you bring one of his hands to your lips, pressing a light kiss to his digits as you tell him, “I don’t care that you’re cold to the touch – I don’t care that we won’t have a picture-perfect life together…” You feel the tears beginning to form on your lashes again as you run your thumbs along his knuckles, telling him sincerely, “I’ve never imagined a future without you in it, love.”
Boothill looks down at you, his expression a clash between his adoration for you and the heaviness of the situation. He shakes his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips as he presses a kiss to the back of it as he tells you, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he admits, “I… I don’t want to leave, sweets. I just…” He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, raising a brow as he once again gestures to himself as he asks, “Are you sure this is what ya want?”
“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” You tell him, letting go of his hands as you instead wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your bodies press against one another. His arms wrap around your waist on instinct, pulling you close to him as you press your foreheads together. You stare into his eyes and bring a hand to his cheek, placing your palm against his face as you run your thumb along the skin under his eye. He leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as you tell him with a smile, “Rain or shine, good or bad… I want to be beside you throughout it all.”
“Heh, well… I’m glad I get to be by yer side.” Boothill says, opening his eyes once more to look at you. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple as he whispers, almost as if he didn’t want the world to hear him – to keep this tender moment a secret between the two of you, “…Thank you for choosin’ me out of the rest of the blokes in the galaxy, darlin’. I’m a real lucky guy to have someone as wonderful as you.”
“I’d choose you in every universe, Boothill. That’s a promise.” You reply with a smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, almost as if you were teasing him.
He smirks at both your words and your actions, saying with a raised brow as he leans back, tilting his hat up with one finger as he speaks, “That’s quite a big promise there, darlin’. Sure you can keep it?”
“Oh, I’m sure.” You reply, matching his expression as you huff, “Don’t doubt me, cowboy.”
“I won’t, I won’t…” Boothill says with a chuckle. He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as he looks down at you. Your eyes were still slightly red, and the stains your tears had left on your cheeks were still present. He pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck as he takes a deep breath in, muttering against your skin, “Aeons, I love ya… I love ya so fudgin’ much.”
“I love you, too, honey.” You reply softly, running your hand up and down his back when an idea pops into your mind. It was a mischievous one, and the mere thought of it causes a smirk to grow on your lips. You reach up and grab the hat from his head as you instead place it on yours, asking him flirtatiously, “Why don’t I show you just how much I love you?”
“Well… I certainly like the sound of that.” Boothill replies lowly, his eyes half-lidded as he gently caresses your face, smirking at his hat now resting atop your head. He leans down and kisses you, whispering against your lips in a sultry tone, “Plus, I’d like to apologize for makin’ you cry… Can I, darlin’?”
The tone of his voice was enough to make your heart start beating faster, and you could feel your cheeks begin to warm as you replied quickly with a simple, “Please do.”
#🌸 . Plum Writes#honkai star rail#star rail#hsr#honkai star rail x reader#star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x you#star rail x you#hsr x you#boothill hsr#boothill#boothill x reader#boothill x you#honkai star rail imagines#hsr imagines#honkai star rail drabbles#hsr drabbles#boothill imagines#boothill fluff#boothill angst
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with me + part twelve
authors note: you guys are seriously the nicest and most supportive. the comments always make me stupidly smile and laugh cause not a single one of ya'll is gonna let bdj die off. 😭 also, i know a couple of people have commented and asked about the backstory with joe and jadah, and i promise it'll be explored deeper. there's a subplot i'm working towards unveiling here, and it's nearing the reveal part, but we're not there yet! i promise, though, it's gonna be touched on!!!
i also had to chop this chapter in half, because it's honestly so much stuff, so the next update shouldn't take as long cause it's almost done.
the next two are gonna be so fun. maybe some shit will go down too. we shall see.
status: in progress // masterlist
warnings: fluff, language, some angst, suggestive themes
song inspo: with me by destiny’s child
words: 8k
taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns
“So let me get this straight, in the time that I’ve been gone, you and Joe told Callie he’s her dad, you found out Amir and Mariah been fucking behind your back, and you had a semi mental breakdown after running into your father and, plot twist, long lost sister.” She counts each off with a finger, then asking. “Did I miss anything?”
Nodding, you take a scoop of your ice cream before adding, “Joe told me he loves me.”
In true Alexis fashion, she randomly arrived in town the night before, completely unaware of all that transpired in her absence. So, you take this time while Callie sleeps to catch her up.
“Did I miss anything that I didn’t already know?” You give her a look, and she rolls her eyes, also eating some of her Rocky Road. “Come on, Y/N. Ray Charles could see that man is in love with you. You’re the one being stupid by not reciprocating.” Before you can push back against her, even if she isn’t entirely wrong, she switches topics. “Now when are we gonna go beat Lieriah’s ass? I told you it was something about that girl. She’s a snake.”
Typically the one to defend your friends, it’s hard to find it in you to come to Mariah’s aid. Nevermind the fact that she knows the shitty things Amir has done to you over the years, it’s the fact that she’s supposed to be your best friend but is messing around with same ain't shit ex? You would never do something like that to her, but maybe your loyalty to her has always been stronger than hers to you.
“I’m not worried about him or her. They’re not worth it.” That’s partially true, but the sting of betrayal is slow to pass and even slower to heal. You’ve always had mid to low expectations for Amir, but Mariah? That’s a crushing blow. “I have more important things to figure out.”
She studies you, leaning back against the headboard. “Your sister.”
“Bianca,” you correct. It’s too uncomfortable referring to her as such, even if that’s exactly what she is.
In the weeks since the big fireworks show—both metaphorically and figuratively—you’ve tried to slowly return to your sense of normalcy. Focusing on Callie—who is an entirely different issue in and of itself that you really need to talk to your mom about—being more on top of things at work, and navigating your relationship with Joe.
He hasn’t been back to visit since Christmas, but you figured as such. Wrestlemania season has arrived, and you know better than anyone how crazy that time is, especially with him main eventing.
But the one thing you haven’t really allowed yourself to think too much about is Bianca. You’d sent her a vague apology text a few days after your mad dash and explained that you were dealing with some things and just needed time to sort through them. That you’d reach back out when you were ready.
That still hasn’t happened, and it’s entirely intentional.
“I remember you mentioned that you always wanted siblings?”
“Yeah, cause we have so much to bond over,” you mutter, bitterly.
“Well, you actually do have a lot in common. She’s a teacher, like you. She has a daughter, like you—”
“You know what we don’t have in common?” You interrupt, feeling the agitation growing again. It’s not directed toward Alexis, just the situation in general. “A father who loves us.”
You were done referring to that man as your father. A father shows up. Like Joe. That son of a bitch isn’t even in the same universe as Joe.
Her expression softens. You didn’t tell her everything, just enough for her to get the gist that he’s a piece of shit. And you definitely did not tell her about the time you went to see him. You’ve never told anyone that story. Joe is now the only one who knows, and you’d like to keep it that way. It’s just….it’s just too painful. “I had no idea that was the situation there…..I’m really sorry, girl.”
“It is what it is. I don’t need him.” And you’re not too sure if you need Bianca either. “I’m just trying to figure out if I should power through this for Callie’s sake. You should have seen how she and Taylor clicked. I would hate to take that away from her.”
“I get that,” she acknowledges. “You have to make the decision that’s best for the long run, not necessarily how you’re feeling right now.” That’s very easy to say and nearly impossible to do. “Even if you just allow the girls to interact while you keep some distance with Bianca.”
You’re partially intrigued, spooning some more cookie dough. “How would that work?”
“They don’t live here, right?” You nod. “Maybe the girls can talk on Facetime or even play some game on their tablets. That won’t cause you to interact much with mom outside of coordinating virtual playdates, and Callie still gets to spend time with her cousin, or, not cousin."
You sit on her words, not expecting to be as open to the idea as you are. It’s a pretty genius compromise. “You really do give some great advice sometimes, you know that?”
“That’s what I’m here for,” she smiles mischievously, and you just shake your head. “Now, who’s gonna knock this bitch Mariah over the head with a steel chair? Me or you? Or should we hit her with a bus, Regina George style?”
“Alexis!”
________
You clearly don’t love yourself because you decided to do both yours and Callie’s washday on the same damn day. A Sunday, at that. Meaning, you have no choice but to get it done because you have work the next day.
And Alexis being in town would be even more of a benefit than it already is if she actually knew how to do hair. Natural hair. She can lay any wig down better than Tae, but caring for coils and curls is another story. It’s why you declined her offer, and she lays knocked out in your bed, while Callie is fast asleep in hers.
Thankfully, you have an insanely generous and sweet man who’s offered to talk to you while you power through this debacle, noodle arms, sleep deprivation, and all.
“Oh, before I forget again.” You grab the bottle of leave-in to apply more to the next section of hair. Shingling may give you the most definition, but it also gives you the most discomfort. “Can you be here May 8th?” A smile falls on your face. “Our baby is graduating preschool, and I know she’d want you there. I do too.”
“Shit, they have preschool graduations?” He seems genuinely taken back before answering. “But, of course I’ll be there.”
“I know. I used to think they were stupid, but now it’s my kid, so it’s the best thing ever. Her cap and gown should come some time in March, so I’m gonna have one of my old teammates who’s a photographer take professional photos of her.” It’s literally just preschool, but that’s still something she’s accomplished, and you want to commend the occasion the best you can. It’s been years since you’ve had professional photos of her taken anyway. Not since she was first born. “And yes, I’ll get extra for you.”
“How much—”
“Anyways, let me show you the tattoo.” Joe has already done so much, the least you can do is cover the photo costs. Even though you know him well enough to know he’ll find some way to contribute. Thankfully, the side of your hair that still needs to be shingled is clipped at the top of your head, so all you have to do is turn around and push down the thin strap of your shirt to reveal your latest ink. “He did an amazing job.”
“Shit, he did.” Joe’s agreement and approval somehow makes you even more satisfied with the outcome. Your Christmas gift to yourself was finally getting that Moana tattoo Callie has wanted to see on you since you told her you were getting one damn near a year ago. It’s on the back of your left shoulder, a black manta ray, some blue ocean-like coloring with one of your favorite lyrics from the movie: I will carry you here in my heart. You remind me, that come what may, I know the way.
It’s one of Callie’s favorite songs but also feels like an ode to your grandma as well.
He then asks, “do you want more?”
Readjusting your shirt and turning back around, you answer, “of course. More Disney but also….” This discussion triggers something for you, something that seems a little out there, but also maybe not. “I saw this tattoo on Pinterest that I want to get for Callie.” You grab your phone. “Let me send it to you.” It’s saved in your favorites folder and thus an easy send. Placing the phone back on the counter, you wait for him to receive and see it.
“I like it.” It’s a baby’s footprint with the name written in cursive and date of birth in print right underneath it. You’ve always wanted Callie’s name on you but couldn’t settle on a design until you came across that one. Something about it just resonates with you.
Licking your lips, you suggest, “why don’t you get it with me?” Couples getting matching tattoos isn’t something you’re entirely against, you just don’t agree with it for people who are only dating and not married, if marriage is the goal. You remember when Amir once suggested you do so, and you literally laughed in his face. You’d soon rather get branded with a tramp stamp than have that man’s name permanently burned into your skin.
But, matching tattoos for the child you created together with the man you love. That is something you could get behind.
And apparently so can he.
“Let’s do it.”
“Really?” You’re not sure why, but the ease of his agreement shocks you. It’s not too far-fetched when you think about it. He loves his daughter, and you’ve always known Joe to only get tattoos that have meaning. He could give you a detailed explanation for every piece of ink on his body.
“Yeah.” There’s almost a sense of excitement in his voice, like he’s eager to have her name on him, to share this with you. “Same location?” At that, you make a face. He laughs. “Inner bicep does hurt, I’m not even gon’ lie to you.”
Yeah, you’ve definitely heard as such, and considering his entire right side is tatted, he’d know. “I don’t know. I have to think about it. I might need to squeeze your hand the whole time, or I’ll end up punching the tattooist.”
He laughs, “you can squeeze my hand.” Joe then asks, “when do you want to get em’ done?” You start to think about it logistically, as well as financially. Tattoos aren’t cheap. “Do you want to go to the Super Bowl?”
His question surprises you because it’s such a change in topics but also….what? “Yup. And Hawaii and Puerto Rico. And then maybe if we have time, stop by Alice in Wonderland.”
He’s too good at matching your sass, retorting, “I can make the first two happen easily. The last one may be a stretch.” Rolling your eyes, you grab for the gel. “I’m serious though. My tattoo artist is based out of Vegas. The game is in Vegas this year. It’ll let me see Callie too, cause I’m having a hard time finding a gap to visit.” As he continues to speak without laughing or chuckling, you realize he’s dead serious. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to go anyway but kept forgetting.”
You need extra clarification. “Like this year's Usher concert where there’s apparently a game too?”
He rolls his eyes, providing the guest list. “It’s me and the twins, their family, some other fam…..we have a whole section, cause you know it's a bunch of us.” It’s still hard to sit on the fact that this man really just invited you to the fucking Super Bowl like it’s dinner at Golden Coral. His eyes soften. “I wanna see her. I wanna see you.”
Joe’s closing statement, so true and vulnerable, is what breaks you from your temporary state of shock. You get the sense he misses ya’ll just as much as you miss him. “Of course, we’ll go. I’m sorry, I just—I wasn’t expecting that.” And it’s true, you weren’t. “How will we get fl—”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of everything. I just need you to show up at the airport.”
That seems to be such a recurring theme with this man. He does everything he can to make things as easy for you as possible. It’s tremendously appreciated and doesn’t go without notice.
“This is the first time she’ll be meeting the twins,” you realize aloud. Hell, his family at all.
Joe nods, chuckling. “Yeah, they’ve been on my ass about that anyway. They want to meet her.”
Pinning down the section you just finished, you take down the next. A little over halfway done now. “Whoever you want her to meet is fine with me, Joe. I don’t even really have a say in that. She has every right to meet your family just as much as she’s had to meet mine.”
And it’s true. Unless it could present some harm to Callie, you don’t really feel like you have the right to object to things like that. You have zero desire to interfere with Joe and Callie anymore than you already have.
“I know. I just wanted to tell her the truth before introducing her to anyone else. Less lies.” Makes sense. Thinking about Callie meeting more family brings a small smile to your face. It’s what she deserves. Family members who actually want to be in her life.
The conversation brings something else to the forefront of your mind, partially due to Joe’s confession to you on Christmas but also a question you’ve wanted to ask him for much longer than you’d like to admit.
“So….” This shouldn’t be as nerve wracking as it is. “There’s something I want to ask you, but I don’t…..I don’t want to overstep.” If he were to tell you that he’d rather you not, that’d be fine with you, one less stressful thing on your plate. But, of course, he’s silent, meaning he’s not going to object. So….you decide to bite the bullet and go for it. “What happened between you and your wife?”
You’re certain he wasn’t expecting that to be what you asked, but to your surprise, he answers. “We were young and got married for the wrong reason. I was 22. She was 21.”
Unsure but taking a big risk regardless, you ask in a small voice. “What was the reason?”
His answer isn’t what you’re expecting either. “She was pregnant.”
It takes a second for you to process what he’s saying. Your stomach is suddenly in knots, chest feeling tight. There’s no way he’s kept something like that from you. No way in hell. “Wait, does Callie have—”
“No.”
And just like that, you know. He doesn’t need to explain. It’s painfully obvious, especially as he looks away from the camera. You have a feeling you've unlocked a painful memory he’d most likely kept tucked away.
“I’m sorry.” It feels so stupid and unhelpful to say. What does that do for him? It doesn’t take away that experience, that loss that you can’t even begin to imagine. But, it’s all you can offer. “Just—forget I asked, let’s change the subject.” Do you have more questions? Of course. Like, why was there such a gap between their loss and the divorce? But, this is understandably a difficult and sensitive subject, and the last thing you want to do is trigger him more than you already have.
You know better than anyone how awful that can be.
He agrees with the subject change, going along with the transition of topics, clearly grateful for your understanding. But, in the back of your mind, you can’t help but think about the fact that this man lost his firs child before he could even meet the them, and the child he had who did survive was kept a secret from him for nearly five years.
There’s a sudden sickness and disgust you feel. And it’s not towards anyone but yourself.
Joe had every goddamn right to be furious with you about your subterfuge.
He still does.
________
“Mama, something is up with Callie.”
You’re thankful Alexis agreed to keep Callie preoccupied in the living room while you have this conversation with your mom, because Callie had another incident just this morning, slamming her door when you told her she needed to pick up her toys.
She’s never done that.
But she has done other things in the past two weeks or so, rolling her eyes or pouting her mouth at you when you say something she doesn’t want to hear, beyond typical tantrums.
Your mom stops her stirring at the pot to turn around and look at you. “What do you mean? Is she sick?”
“No,” you answer and then realize you’re not entirely sure how to explain it. She’s not being bad, per se. Just….difficult. “She’s just been…..off.”
Genuinely intrigued, and partially concerned, you watch your mom turn the fire on low as she joins you at the kitchen table. “Tell me.”
Shaking your head, you explain. “I thought it was just me, that I was just being overprotective and hyper-vigilant, but when I picked her up from preschool yesterday, her teacher pulled me to the side and asked me if she’s been having sleep problems. I told her no and asked why, and she told me Callie has been irritable. With staff and other kids.”
“Callie?” Your mom seems just as taken back as you were hearing these words. “That doesn’t even sound like her.”
“I know, and that’s what I said at first, but then I thought about it, and she’s been crabby with me too. It’s not horrible, but it’s unlike her.”
A small part of you wonders if it has something to do with you running off on her on Christmas. It would make sense. She was doing absolutely fine before then, but it’s the timing that throws that theory off. You’ve noticed this change only in the past two weeks, well after Christmas day passed, so why the delay?
“What does Joe think it is?”
“I haven’t told him.” It’s not that you don’t want to. You’d just like to have a better grasp of what it is before doing so. Have more actual information to provide him.
“He hasn’t seen the behavior for himself?”
You shake your head. “She’s fine with him. Matter of fact, after his calls, she’s like a completely different child.” It’s watching your mom’s face settle into a look of realization that makes you ask, “what? What is it?”
“Honey” she starts with a soft chuckle. “She’s missing her daddy.”
Her answer catches you by surprise, painting your face with confusion. You’ve had a lot of theories, but that definitely wasn’t one of them. “What?”
Reaching across the table, she places her hand over yours. “Think about it. How would she react if you were gone as much as he is? She’d be a mess, cause you’re her mama, and she has a strong attachment to you. Look how easily she attached and connected with Joe. It’s always been there. Except she knows the truth now, so her attachment is even stronger.” You heed to her explanation, wise and sensible. You hadn’t even thought of it that way. “And isn’t this the longest he’s been gone without her seeing him? She’s acting out because she misses him and probably doesn’t know how to verbalize it, so it shows in her behavior.”
As relieved as you are to have an explanation that makes sense, it’s an explanation that makes you incredibly sad for your sweet child. You know how hard it is for Joe to get away right now, you understand it. It never crossed you that she wouldn’t.
Devastated, you ask, “what do I do?”
“Talk to her. Try to help her understand. It may not make a huge difference, but it’s something.”
You nod, so so grateful for her, for all that she does for you, for Callie. For all that she’s done. Reaching across the table, you hug her tightly. “thank you, mama.” As much as it devastated you to not have that man in your life, your mom made sure to go above and beyond to make sure you knew you were loved. She played both roles beautifully, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to make her understand what that meant to you.
You still haven’t really sat her down and explained everything that happened Christmas night, nor has she asked, but you know it’s because she’s trying to respect your space. It’s appreciated, but you also know you’re gonna have to eventually tell her.
Just not now.
Right now, you’ve gotta take care of your baby.
________
Even the energy in Callie’s playroom feels off.
You’re so used to walking in and finding her with that million dollar smile that makes your entire day better. Instead, you walk in and she doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. She just continues to color.
“Hey, baby….” Disappointed, but refusing to show as such, you welcome yourself in and approach her table. “Is it okay if I color with you?”
She still doesn’t say anything, just nods, and you do your best not to hide your sadness. You hate seeing her this down, it’s so unfamiliar, and you’ll do just about anything to fix it.
Sitting down in the uncomfortable seat, you take a couple of her pages and pull out a crayon. “I have an idea.” At that, she looks up, slightly intrigued. “Why don’t we draw how we’ve been feeling lately? I draw me, and you draw you.”
You scold yourself for not selling it to her better, for not telling her it’s something you sometimes do with your students. Some level of innocent peer pressure. However, she surprises you by agreeing with a simple “okay.”
It takes a second for you to register that it was really that simple. Step one is done. Now for step two.
Grabbing some crayons, you don’t really concern yourself with skin tone, just getting something out on paper. The two of you color in silence, and you start to offer to put on her favorite playlist but decide against it.
You want her to really think about what you’re asking.
It’s when you see that she’s placed down her crayon and is just staring at her picture that you ask, “you done?” She shakes her head, but her eyes are on the table in front of her. “Is it okay if mommy sees it? I’ll show you mine too.”
Handing you the page, you expect an influx of emotions, but actually seeing her literal representation of how she feels is simply heartbreaking.
She’s drawn herself, frowning, surrounded by broken hearts and a blue tear leaking from her eye. Callie did what you asked. You just wish it didn’t have you feeling so helpless.
“This means you’ve been feeling sad, huh?” You hate how your voice gives away your emotions. This is about her, not you, but it’s so difficult for you to not be impacted. No mother wants to see her child hurting, and Callie currently is. It kills you. “Callie….” Moving up from your chair, you move across to kneel in front of her, taking her hands in yours. “Have you been sad because you miss your dad?”
All you need to hear is one sniffle, and instantly, you’re reaching for her, holding and comforting her.
“It’s okay,” you soothe, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay, baby.” She cries into your chest, and you have to hold back your own tears.
“Why doesn't he come back?” She asks in between tears, wiping her eyes. “He’s been gone a really long time.” It’s only then you realize that she’s not entirely exaggerating. Joe was last here for Christmas. It’s now the end of January. For a child like Callie, that must feel like an eternity.
“He would if he could, Callie. I promise you he would. Daddy just…he gets really busy with his job this time of the year, and he can’t leave or he’ll get in trouble.” It’s so difficult to explain this to her. WrestleMania season is inarguably chaotic and stupidly busy. Even back in the day, Joe’s trips to see you were most far and few in between during this time of year. And that was before he even had a title. You can’t even imagine how busy he must be as the literal fucking face of the company.
Enough to keep him from being able to come see you and Callie.
You’ve just gotten so used to the dynamics of him being away for periods at a time that it never occurred to you Callie hasn’t had the same experience. That at the end of the day she’s still a little kid who just wants to be with her dad.
It’s then that a thought crosses your mind.
“What if…..what if we went to see daddy?” For the first time since you stepped into the room, her eyes actually light up and you notice her tears lessening. “Instead of him coming to us, we go see him?”
“Really?” There’s the faintest smile on her face, and you know then that you’re going to make this happen. You don’t know how or in what way, but it will be a reality. No matter what it takes.
“Yeah,” you answer, brushing away some of her tears. “You can go see him at his show. He’d love that.” Not as much as she clearly loves the idea alone. “Now, we’d only be able to stay a day or maybe two but—”
“Please,” she interrupts, and you get the sense that she fears you’re going to find a way to say that you couldn’t or shouldn’t go. “I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”
“Baby, you’re already the best girl.” You push back some of her hair, resting your hand against her cheek. “Mama’s gonna make it happen, okay? I promise.”
If you have to sell one of your kidneys, then you’ll just be less one organ, because you’re getting your baby to that damn show. Matter of fact, you don’t say anything to her, but you’re wondering if you can make it to this week’s upcoming show. It’s only Sunday, and that gives you a couple of days to make arrangements and secure tickets. It’s doable, but you don’t want to get her hopes up, so just in case, you say nothing.
And yes, in the back of your mind, you know she’ll see Joe in a couple of weeks for the game, but that’s too long. Your child is hurting. You need to do something now. She can’t wait that long.
“Thank you, mommy!” She wraps her little arms around you, and just like that, you see the spark and joy that fills your days with light and laughter. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby.” Kissing her temple, you release her, realizing something else. “Now we can't tell your daddy because we’re gonna surprise him, okay? Can you do that for me?”
She nods, happily, unaware of the real reason. You know that you can’t tell Joe about this. Well, not now at least. This is not something to be discussed over the phone or even video chat. And if you tell him you want to take her to see him as soon as possible, he’ll know something is up.
So, you have to move in silence.
Coloring with Callie commences for a little longer as you value and cherish your time with her, but as soon as she’s down for her nap and before you wake Alexis from hers to tell her the news, you need to do something. It’s in that time bonding with her you realized how you’re going to make this happen.
You’re suddenly immensely grateful for that random conversation you’d had with Joe a while back regarding the fact that he and the twins have had the same phone number since they were in high school.
Pulling out your phone, you scroll through your contacts until you land on the one you need. You type, backspace, and type some more, only sending out the text once you’re fully pleased with it.
You: Hey, Jon. This is Y/N. Can you call me when you get a chance? Preferably sooner rather than later. I need your help with something. And please don’t tell Joe. It’s a surprise.
________
God clearly wants you to bring Callie to see Joe.
There’s just too many things that have lined up perfectly for that not to be the case. The discussion with your principal went well, though that wasn’t entirely surprising. You’ve always had a cordial relationship and know she respected your grandma. The whole school system in your town did. That was just her level of impact. But that respect has slid down to work in your favor as your principal told you to take as much time as you need.
“You’ll always have a job here.”
While not a huge concern, it’s reassuring and not entirely unsurprising. Again, your grandma’s impact definitely granted you a level of nepotism. You were slightly surprised when she actually encouraged you to take more time off, pointing out how in the almost nine years you’ve worked there, she could count on one hand how much PTO or vacation time you’ve used. And, it’s true. It was really only when Callie was sick and your mom couldn't help or you wanted to stay home and nurse her back to health that you called out. For the most part, you had damn near perfect attendance.
But, that’s certainly about to change, and you’re thankful you have a job that’s flexible enough to accommodate the change.
And then there’s the actual getting there. You should have known when Alexis was asking questions about when you and Callie were leaving that she was up to something. You naively chalked it up to her planning her flight out, as there was no way you expected her to wait around for ya’ll to get back. Instead, she was busy buying not just her ticket to come with ya’ll but yours and Callie’s as well.
You instantly felt bad when she forwarded you the itinerary information. You couldn’t see the cost, but you weren’t stupid either. Getting flights out with such short notice had to be expensive as all outdoors. You were just going to put the bill on your credit card and work to pay it off. And, of course, when you offered to pay her back, she nearly cussed you out. As if such an offer was insulting.
“What good is a trust fund if you can’t spend it on your college roomie and pretend godchild?”
So, while you still felt slightly uncomfortable, you were able to push it to the backburner for the sake of Callie. This is all for her, and you don’t care what it takes to make it happen. Even if it means sucking up your pride.
And deep down, you know if Alexis didn’t do what she did, Joe would somehow find a way to compensate you. The same way his ass somehow got his card on file at the hospital and covered all of Callie’s medical bills without ever even asking you if you needed help.
You still haven’t talked to him about that, not really having or finding the right time, but it also feels a bit bitchy and ungrateful to be upset with the man for covering his daughter’s medical expenses.
Then there’s the actual show itself. One thing you were initially concerned about was if Joe has a match lined up for this upcoming week’s show. You two have only had a couple of discussions about it but still enough for you to learn that he’s extremely hesitant to expose Callie to his wrestling persona.
“I don’t want her seeing me like that, thinking that’s who I am.”
And you understand him fully. Roman may be a fascinating character, but he’s equally narcissistic and ruthless as he is intriguing. The complete opposite of Joe and who he is.
Still, you’ve worked to help him understand that talking to Callie, explaining to her that he’s playing a “character” could help her understand better. You both are in agreement that she’s too young to watch actual matches, especially his as they tend to get brutal, but she can see certain promos. And she does. You let her watch a couple where the dialogue is safe enough to go over her head. And truth be told, she’s so focused on watching Joe that she's not really paying attention to what’s being said anyway.
Needless to say, you were massively relieved to hear from Jon that Joe doesn't have a match lined up and his promo is reportedly tame and safe enough for Callie’s eyes and ears. He didn’t give specifics, but from one parent to another parent, you trust his judgment.
And the most important thing of all is the fact that Callie has done a complete 180. She’s no longer as irritable, just the usual attitude when she’s sleepy or hungry. Just like her mama. And there’s that spark of joy in her eyes. She’s even started packing what she wants to bring with her. She knows you’ll only be there for one night, but even that can’t seem to dim her joy.
It makes your heart swell.
All of this brings you to your conclusion that you’re doing exactly what you should be doing.
“Ahhh, and here it is.” The old woman’s voice breaks you from your inner dialogue as she walks toward the counter, returning from the back. “Sorry about that sweetheart.”
“No worries, Mrs. Ella.” Your eyes light when you see the item in her hand, even if it’s covered by a cloth bag. The fact that it’s ready is more than enough to make you smile. “Thank you so much for agreeing to this.”
She waves off your concern, offering a warm smile. “Your grandma was one of my best friends. As far as I’m concerned, anything you need is a done deal.”
That warms your heart. Mrs. Ella has been the town seamstress for longer than you’ve been alive but doesn’t look a day over 50. She’s not lying either. Your grandma always cited her as one of her “life” sisters.
��Why don’t we take a look to make sure it’s alright?” She offers, removing the item from the garment bag. She takes the hoodie and turns it over so you can see the back.
In awe, you acknowledge, “it’s perfect.”
Among the many things Joe has gifted Callie, WWE apparel hasn’t really been included in that list. You’ve chalked it up to his hesitation about familiarizing her with his Roman persona. However, you know that girl loves her daddy and will support him in all the things, so you took it upon yourself to pick her up a few items over the holidays. One of those things being a black hoodie with Roman’s picture on the front with him wearing one of his head of the table shirts. Wanting to make it special and personal, you had the idea of customizing it. Thus, asking Mrs. Ella to add to the back, Acknowledge my daddy!, and she did a fabulous job. It looks like that was the original design.
Pulling out your wallet, you ask, “how much do I owe you?”
“It’s on the house.”
Your eyes snap to her. “Mrs. Ella, no, this was a rush—”
“Don’t argue with your elders, child,” she scolds, and you smile warmly. “Just show me a picture of her wearing it, and we’ll be even.”
Moved by her generosity, you offer your gratitude again. “Thank you, Mrs. Ella. Seriously. Thank you.”
Hand over yours, she just nods and then ushers you out the door, “well, you better get a move on child.”
With a small laugh and one more thank you, you leave out with the hoodie, excited to show Callie and even more, to see Joe’s reaction when he sees her wearing it.
“Y/N?”
Fuck. You’d know that voice anywhere, have known it since you were five years old.
That doesn’t mean you have to heed to it.
You keep walking.
A stupid decision, because the footsteps behind you become louder and faster as she asks, exasperated, “would you just talk to me?”
You spin around, suddenly pissed at her repeated question. “Why? Why should I talk to you?”
You’ve dodged and ignored her texts the same way she did yours, so what’s the issue now? Being on the receiving end must be one hell of an unpleasant experience for her. Not that you give two shits. Mariah is the last thing on your plate right now.
Mariah seems taken back, and that just pisses you off more. How can she not see her wrong in this situation? “You’re my best friend, Y/N. We’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten. Does that mean nothing to you?”
“Did it mean something to you when you were fucking Amir?”
Something you can’t identify flashes in her eyes followed by apparent hurt. “Are you serious right now? You’d really believe him over me.” It’s hard to tell how sincere her watery eyes are or if they’re performative. You’ve never known her to be fake, but then again, maybe you’ve never really known her at all. “That’s fucked up.”
Finding some level of compassion and understanding for the woman you called your best friend for almost your entire life, you try to offer her the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, let’s say you’re not fucking him. At the very least, you’ve been telling him my business while ignoring my texts and calls. Like, what the fuck, Mo?”
She shakes her head. “He came to me, worried about you—”
“He came to you nosy and upset because I cut it off with him, and you fell into his trap.” How she can possibly fall for Amir’s bullshit is beyond you. She knows how he is. Hell, she’s been right beside you, up until recent weeks/months, dealing with his bullshit. So, her excuse is just that—an excuse. “And even if he was, as my best friend, you should know that’s still girl code violation.”
It feels almost silly citing that, but the morals behind it still ring true. You would never talk to Caleb about things going on in her life when you know they’re not on good terms. And you damn sure would never fuck him.
“Girl code?That’s funny coming from you, because you didn’t seem to to care about girl code when you were fucking another woman’s husband and had a whole ass baby for him.”
Her words stop you dead in your tracks. Any facial expression you may have been showing is dropped and neutral. Even your voice is softer, less accusatory. “Excuse me?”
For her to say that to you, knowing how sensitive a subject that is truly takes you by surprise. Truly.
It doesn’t stop there though. “I mean, forreal, Y/N. You’re up in my face about Amir, but aren’t you still fucking Joe? Shit, how many niggas do you need?” It’s hard to believe the words coming out her mouth, so angry and hostile. But, even her volume rising has you stumped. It’s like she wants to draw an audience. “It’s not enough to be one man’s whore, but you still gotta have another on the side?”
Truly baffled, all you can ask is, “where is this coming from?”
She sucks her teeth, just as irritated, if not more by your question. “It’s always been this shit with you. You do whatever the fuck you want and don’t care who you hurt or betray in the process!”
And now you’re just straight up confused, because what have you ever done to her? Cause that’s what it sounds like she’s implying. Like you’ve done her wrong. Like you’ve been doing her wrong. “What are you even talking about?”
“You got Joe. You got Amir. Shit, when is enough enough for you?” She scoffs, and it’s hard for you to even look at her let alone listen to all the hurtful things she’s spewing. “Like damn, find a new hobby. Focus on raising your kid—”
And that…..that is the moment that you’re no longer confused, or hurt, or saddened to hear your best friend say such awful things. You’re pissed. Cause one thing no one can convince you you’re not, is a good mother. You’ve dedicated your entire life and being to taking care of Callie, making sure she’s straight. That’s always been your priority, and for her to suggest otherwise….those are really fighting words.
You step toward her, finding all of the will in the world not to shatter her jaw. “You and I have so much history. It is the only reason I’m not whooping your ass right now, but know this, Mariah. This was your freebie. Fuck with me again, speak on my child again, and I’ll bash your fucking head into the nearest wall.” It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. “Stay away from me, bitch.”
You don’t give her time to respond or even yourself the chance to lay her out, you instead rush to your car, locking the door and speeding out of the parking lot.
Your knuckles are nearly white with how tightly you’re gripping the steering wheel.
It’s been a while since you’ve been this hot. Years maybe. Amir would piss you off, sure, but never to the extent of your emotions in this moment. It truly took all resolve and imagining Callie’s disappointed face at not being able to see her dad because you got yourself locked up for aggravated assault to keep you from beating Mariah’s ass. She knows better than anyone that you don’t play about your daughter, so for her to include Callie in her mud slinging is not only repugnant but hurtful.
She’s supposed to be Callie’s godmother.
But beyond that, you’re having a hard time reconciling with the rest of the things she was saying. It didn’t feel like something that’s been building up over the past few months. No, this was different. Much…..deeper.
Regardless, you don’t have time to deal with this shit. You need to put your focus on preparing to bring your little girl to see her dad.
Mariah can fuck off.
She’s always been all bark and no bite anyway.
________
“Mommy.”
Callie doesn’t even have to say anything else for you to know a request is to follow.
“What's up, sis?”
She climbs on top of where you lay on the sofa, you and Alexis watching some random dating show she swears up and down is the best thing since Love is Blind. So far, you’re entirely unimpressed. Granted, reality shows of any kind have never been your cup of tea in the first place.
Your YouTube history is mostly crime documentaries and Bloodline videos.
She climbs on top of you, throwing her arms up and shouting, “dance party!”
Of all her typical requests, that’s one you haven’t heard in a while.
You’ve always raised Callie with music, even back when you were pregnant, you would take your Beats and place them on your belly. It’s seemingly worked because this child loves music, so much so that you two would have random “dance party’s” where you’d blast music and dance around, no care in the world, just the two of you.
You haven’t had one in a while, but seeing Callie so happy, a stark contrast from how she’s been is more than enough to get you up and on your feet. You look over at Alexis. “Come on, Lex, it’s dance party time.”
She feigns a gasp, looking at Callie for approval. “Do I get to come to this party?”
Callie giggles and jumps on the sofa. “Of course! Everyone can come to dance party!”
What’s also ironically funny is the fact that you and Alexis used to have dance parties all the time in your dorm, just often with much more explicit Travis Porter, Speaker Knockerz, type music and a lot of ass shaking.
“Well tonight, it’s just the three of us,” you laugh, grabbing your phone and opening your Spotify to figure out what will be your kickoff song. It’s when your eyes land on that one though, you know you’ve found it.
Connecting your phone to your Bluetooth, you confirm the connection and hit play.
We're a thousand miles from comfort, we have traveled land and sea
But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be
“My favorite white girl song ever!” Alexis shouts, starting to dance with Callie who’s just as excited about your selection. Together, the three of you dance and sing when the iconic chorus hits.
If you gave me a chance I would take it
It's a shot in the dark but I'll make it
Know with all of your heart, you can't shake me
When I am with you, there's no place I'd rather be
At some point, Alexis grabs your phone, recording and capturing the laughter and joy you experience dancing and being silly with your very, very best friend. Callie’s laughter could revive any soul, and it’s so genuine. Even more, you know a large chunk of it is her excitement to see her dad in a couple of days.
And that makes it all the more special.
Eventually needing a break and time to catch your breath, you laugh as the song ends and the next one starts. Lex and Callie immediately go at it for round two, spinning around and dancing to Dance the Night.
You take a second to check your phone, seeing that you have a Snapchat from Joe. Frowning, you open the message confused as to why he’s using that and not just text. He only has the damn app because you made him get it. He’s not very big on social media outside of occasional Instagram posts.
Swiping it open, you see why he was messaging you on there.
Because your wonderful best friend sent him the video she recorded of the three of you dancing.
Joe: How do I save this?
Joe: Fuck it. It’s too confusing. Just send it to me.
Laughing, you chew on your bottom lip and type out a reply.
You: You’re such an old man. 😩
You: But yes, I’ll send it, even if I didn’t know Alexis was recording to send it to you...
You: Callie loves “dance parties” lol
Joe: I love her laugh. She looks so happy…
You: I know. ❤️ She loves music. Def my kid.
You: Skillet is next on the queue, btw. 🙃
Joe: Don’t know what that is, but if I had to take a guess, it’s some rock shit.
You: You know me so well. 😊
Joe: Of course, baby.
Leaving his thread, you realize that if she sent it to Joe, she probably posted it to your private story as well, which is fine. You only have people on there you know and trust to keep the contents within that space.
But, it’s in checking the views that you see Mariah not only watched but screen recorded your story. It’s strange, normally you wouldn’t think twice about it. She’s always screenshotted and screen recorded stuff you posted, and you did the same with Micah.
But now…..
Now, it feels wrong to share these moments with her. She’s lost that privilege.
Moving to your contacts, you ignore her old Snapchat name she never uses anymore and instead just block her primary one from seeing your stories, and that includes close friends. And interestingly enough, when you check your texts, you see one from her muted thread that momentarily causes you to pause.
Mariah: Kinda stupid to ice out the one person who knows everything about you.
But the pause comes and goes, Mariah always says shit, and that’s where it stops, the saying. She’s always been the mouse of you two, and that shit ain’t changed.
Closing up the app, you switch back to Spotify and focus on what’s before you and not behind you.
You have all the people you need in your life.
Mariah can fuck off.
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Okay, I know and I'm very sorry that I am bothering you again. I just thought about something crazy.... What if Sherlock and William baby traped Obanai!Reader? And she can't bring herself to kill the babies because it's not babies's fault? It's twins by the way. Girl and Boy.
And if you are writing NSFW can you do it too?
And I am very sorry again for bothering you with my requests😭
I just like how you write about it and how you are imagining it. I have plenty scenarios but I don't know how to write them🥲
Yes, i am not the best at writing nsfw but i can certainly try, and do not worry, You are of no bother at all, i like taking requests, and that is a very good idea!
Yandere sherlock holmes x reader x yandere William james moriarty
Tw : mentions of killing intent, non con, yandere themes, baby trapping, drugging, dark content, read at your own risk!
Nsfw!
--------------------------------------------------
IT had been days since they saw your scars... Days since they started making side comments, side comments that became more and more disturbing for You
"do You think that the child Will have your beautifull eyes?"
Or
"... Ha, you'd look so good round, full with children, my darling"
You weren't dumb either. You knew what they were hinting at, all the soft touches, sugestive looks and most importantly, on the rarely ocasions that they let You go outside... The way they would stare at pregnant or mother's with their children, especially if the Young ones were still babies. Every time, You would see at least one of them stare long, with a small smile as his hand went to your stomach, holding it tight (and You in place)
Of course, You expected what came next, a talk with them, over tea, which, as a fool, You took, in which they wanted to prepare You, and say that You are at a Point in your relathionship in which the time for kids is right... They were old enough, and so were You for that.
You protested, screaming at them as You told them that You would never want to raise children, or have sex, with either one... And they took that... Smirking?
When your vision got slightly blury You understood why, of course, they planned this, they knew You, they knew You wouldn't accept it in no way posible. But drugging? This was low even for them, You wanted to say, but do You truly know them both so well to say that? Can You even say that, knowing You were talking about your kiddnappers and possible rapists?
.
.
.
"no... No...." You breath out, trying to pull yourself togheter as You saw them inch closer.
Maybe it was your tired mind, but You could swear that You saw their faces twisted in that awfull smirks of theirs.
Sherlock was the one to grab You to your feet and making You grind against his erected cock while he let out a shaky breath of pleasure.
"now sherlock... Be patient Will You? Your turn Will come"
William says wraping his arms around your waist and holding your ass against his pants.
"it is easy for You, Liam, You will be the first to take her"
You shooks your head, your ears ringing as sherlock comented, and his rough hands adictinvly went and unbottined your shirt, giving them acces to your bare skin.
Seeing that, William's lips made contact with your neck and shoulders, whispering sweet nothings about how You will see that this is the best for You, that You were made to be a mother and that You will thank them for impregnating You when You would see the beautifull baby that will come out of you all.
You fall on the sofa, them soon following and taking their positions, with William behind You and Sherlock in front of You, Sherlock captured your lips in a pasionate kiss, his hands going to your hips as his toungue plays around your mouth, his hands guiding Your hips to meet William's, earning a few moans from the blond as he continued to pree open mouthed Kisses to your neck, making You unconsciouly moan against Sherlock's mouth, which grew his need dor You.
They continued to whisper sweet nothings here and there, but that didn't help, didn't help at all, as tears weild up in your eyes and their hands opened up your pants.
You were too weak to fight, and the combination of sherlock's roughness and the way William softly rubs his hands all over your skin... It was getting good, as much as you hated to admit it, as much as you hated the fact that they did make You wet.
William smiles mischevously as he felt the wetness from your panties, bring to of his fingers to tease your entrace before inserting them slowly, making You yelp weakly against Sherlock's mouth.
William started thrusting his fingers, making small pauses that had You embarassingly trying to meet his thrusts.
"see? Told ya she's gonna come around eventually, now hurry up Liam, am getting impatient... "
William playfully rolls his eyes as sherlock Kisses down your chest, ending up sucking on one of your nipples as his hand massages the other one.
William continues to thrust his fingers up, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but before You can come, he removes his fingers, making You grown.
You left soft moans spill out of your lips from sherlock's actions as your eyes widen when You heard the William's pants falling down.
"easy now..." he shushes as he gives himself a pump before guiding You on himself, making You take him inch by inch. Not giving You time to get used to him before he bottoms out
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as You felt him slowly snap his hips back in you, earning a very loud moan from you, followed by more small muffle ones.
"hey... I'm getting jealous, pay attention to me too... " sherlock whispers, his hands playing with your clit as William thrusted his hips fast, making You reach your High that was denied earlier
"oh... This is... Better than i could've ever dreamed" he says in between groans and pants, his motions continuing for what felt like hours, as he continued to thrust, not giving You time to come down from your High
You moaned louder.
"we talked that after cumming we Switched William" sherlock bites into your shoulder, as if to show that he is very serious, not that William could seem to care less
"Said about switch ing after coming, she did, i didn't, wait till i finish and have your turn, it's not like she is going anywhere"
William rests his head against your shoulder, shotting his load inside you.
Panting, he gives one more thrust before pulling away.
"finally!" sherlock exclaims as pushes inside you, causing You to yelp, thinking that ha wasn't prepared, and that You would get a small break.
But no, the overstimulation was making You even more lightheaded than You already were because of the druged Tea. And jesus, You didn't know if You liked sherlock's aproach more, or William's. William was more calculated, having a rythm that he trusted in, while at sherlock it felt like every single thrust was difrent from the other, making your stomach twist and turn. You were close again, and if they fucked You thought this orgasm again, You are more than sure that You will pass out
"forgeting about me?" William asks as he presses down on your stomach, making You moan as he could feel sherlock's dick against his finger. You let out a loud moan as You came, William kissing your neck whole smiling as sherlock seemed to lost in his pleasure tto give a reaction other than a moan from the aditional squeze "you'll see my darling, once this children are born, You will thank us"
Sherlock nods, too lost into his pleasure to respond properly as he chases his high, bitting down on the opposite shoulder that is planting the Kisses.
His movements get more sloppy, and after 2 more thrusts, he cums. You fall against his chest, breathing in deeply as tears start pooling from your eyes again, but You don't know what they are. Maybe fear, maybe overstimulation, hatred .
"your turn now, Liam" Your eyes widen at that
"let her rest a minute, she needs it if we want her to not pass out and remember everything"
.
.
.
And remember everything you did, You felt disgusted at yourself, You looked into the mirror at your stomach almost 8 times a day, trying to see a difrence, trying to see if truly You were pregnant with their children.
You dreded the fact that You were late, that You were sleeping more, that You were more picky, and they couldn't seem to get enough of them.
They had, physician after physician come, but after the first one was killed right in front of You after You tried to tell him the truth, that You were forced into this. You weren't trying to take any risks now, You didn't want a poor man's blood on your hands.
Twins.
Twins, oh how happy they were at the sound of twins, how empty You felt, thinking that instead of one reminders of what happend, You had two. Two little beasts to resemble the bigger ones.
At month 5 You were already big enough to cause some disconfort, which they took grade pleasure in, helping and always holding your stomach... You considered more than once to fall down a fight of stairs, to end this pregnancy and posibly yourself, but something stopped You, the vow You made to be better than your parents.
You hated those kids, and it made You hate yourself more, that You couldn't love them, that You will end up maybe worse than your whole clan. What choice did the children have? It's not like they were at fault for who their fathers are...
You saw them put the cribs, You saw them react and tell everyone, and soon, You will see them hold the babies too. You saw the obbsesion, the need in their eyes more than enough to know that, that was the case now too. The children were a way too keep You close to them, but also, to have another piece of you.
They were obssesed with the kids too.
For You, they were the snake demon You had to cut your face for. They were the monster that your parents failed to protect You form, they were the demons You won't leave your children in the hands of those demons.
When they were born, You held them, You held one beautifull boy with blue hair and your striking eyes, and one girl, the spliting image of William, of it weren't for one colored eye that wasn't Red, her heterocromia made her somehow cuter, in the eyes of you, someone that was crytisized for them your whole life.
You were tired after birth, but You held strong, making sure that the two men have as little contact with the babies as posible that is until You heard one private discusion
"oh Liam, You genius, she doesn't even know that the children Will have our possesive traits!"
What? You looked at the baby in your arms, feeling lightheaded
"Who would expect a child being obssesed sherly, and You saw the babies' eyes, how they follow her... Our little copies. She can't escape now, and with the children, it's not like she wants to, the door has been opened and left unguared for a week, she won't ever escape now "
Door opened... You rushed to their cribs, putting each one of them in their respective cribs, looking at them for one last Time...
Not survivours like You... No... They were tiny baby demons... They were holding You out of fear for them in a Cage, only that it was opened, this time, the Cage is opened...
This time You can run...
You don't look back, You don't take anything... Foolled, You were tricked by the offsprings of demons.
And You won't accept it, won't accept being held hostage no more.
You were a better mother than your parents could ever be, and that made You proud, but after your past was hunted by snake people, You won't let another kind of those people control You any longer
(i am thinking to make a continuation of this, like, iguro obanai darling escapes without the children, and while sherliam are busy trying to find her, Louis and entity! Reader, that he didn't love at first, take care of the kids, but seeing her so motherly, he slowly starts to get obsesive, seeing the children as their own and the entity as his partner. What do You guys think?)
#moriarty the patriot#moriarty the patriot x reader#william james moriarty#louis james moriarty#yuukoku no moriarty#yuukoku no moriarty x reader#mtp x you#william james moriarty x reader#Iguro obanai! Reader#yandere sherlock holmes#mtp sherlock#sherliam#sherlock x reader#yandere william james moriarty#yandere moriarty the patriot#yandere moriarty the patriot x reader#Yandere mtp#Mtp smut#Entity! Reader
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Hi! Love your jwcc fanarts! (Hope u don't think my question is to annoying lmao 😭❤️)
I wanna ask u what do u think about that theory abt Ben gf being a catfish? Maybe one of that people that have been hunting them idk. Some posts claim it's actually Brooklyn trying to keep herself updated about the whole situation?? TO MUCH THEORIES
Also if the gf is actually real I'm curious about your opinion. Like I saw a post saying that Ben could be Bi, Pan, etc, but really, I am bisexual myself and there is no bi subtext on that boy... and it's not like they suddenly are gonna officialize he is bi/pan, or give him this type of subtext at this point of the franchise. Is not cool when people call "bi/pan" a media trying to avoid dealing with a character queerness. It's just painful that people think this is a real way of portrait of a bi/pan experience. It's not!!
AW thank you so much! i know i haven't posted much art lately but it still makes me really happy to hear that people enjoy it. and your question isn't annoying at all, don't worry about it :) i love receiving and answering asks, it doesn't matter what they're about
the more time that passes the more plausible the catfish GF theory sounds to me. if i had to guess, ben probably met his girlfriend online, possibly through dark jurassic (which a lot of the fandom seems to be in consensus about). as for it being brooklynn ... not too sure about that one! i've mostly treated it as a crack theory up until now, if just because of how absurd it sounds on paper, but i wouldn't put it past brooklynn to pull something like that. keeping in touch with ben is probably one of her only links back to her friends, besides her contact with ronnie (who is only partially connected to darius at this point, since he quit the DPW). i'd recommend giving these two posts by kitabearuwu a read if you're interested in exploring that theory further.
now if the girlfriend is real: i obviously can't speak for you or other bi/pan/otherwise mspec people, but i've come to not care all that much, if i'm being honest. it was definitely a shock to hear, as was the intended effect, since darius, sammy, and yasmina all initially reacted with surprise. but my question is what harm does ben having a girlfriend in chaos theory inflict? like, does it play into any negative stereotypes? does it communicate a dangerous message about queer people? i've seen some people argue that it perpetuates the notion that mlm relationships are "icky" and shouldn't be portrayed in media, but i have to disagree, respectfully.
i think it's also really important to remember that subtext is ... ultimately kind of subjective, and is totally independent of the creator's intentions. that's the whole point of subtext—it exists below (hence the prefix sub-) the underbelly of the text. you have to be looking for it to see it, basically. and for a long time, the fandom (or at least the queer part of the fandom) subtextually read ben as gay! a lot of that had to do with his rather intimate interactions with the other boys, juxtaposed against the way he rejected yasmina when he thought she had a crush on him ("i like you, but i don't like like you ... i'm just now starting to find myself"). but ... i don't know, if we want to start citing text, i think you could also argue that ben's whole thing about not putting him in a box circa jwcc s5 could be a point towards him being generally unlabeled, which leaves room for him being mspec.
if i had to make some definitive statement on the matter, i guess it'd be that this fandom gets really bogged down by the specific labels of these characters, when it's really not all that necessary. this is still a gay show made by gay people featuring unapologetically gay characters in explicitly gay relationships, of which has been some of the best gay rep i've ever seen in media. and having that kind of representation on TV matters more to me than knowing what ben specifically identifies as, even if it doesn't align with my headcanon. it doesn't have to! but i also don't know for sure if it doesn't align with my headcanon, because we haven't gotten the full story yet. ben's girlfriend is most likely gonna be of some importance, given that he mentioned her twice without going into much detail about her. that leaves a lot of room in future seasons to expand upon who she is and her role in both the greater narrative and ben's life specifically, including his identity. i just think it's best we reserve judgement at this point, basically
#andddd i hope that all makes sense!!#anon#answered#usually don't tag my asks but i think this time i will :)#jwct#jurassic world chaos theory#ben pincus#ben fitzgerald pincus
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Mello x female reader please
Paradise
mello x gn!reader
Things that make Mello fall for you even more
a/n: I didn’t know if you wanted headcanons or a oneshot so I just did a bit of both 😭
𑇍 mello loves it when you cook for him
𑇍 he likes coming home to you cooking dinner after not seeing each other for a while
𑇍 it makes him all soft because it lets him know that you were thinking about him and he just loves the domestic aspect to it
𑇍 whenever you cook for him just expect him to be a little more touchy than normal
Because of Mello’s occupation, there were times when he couldn’t be around to spend time with you as much as you both wished. You understand that he’s a busy person so you try to cope with not always having your beloved around. He comes home late a lot and he gets up early too so you rarely cross paths with each other but something that mello always notes is the plastic-wrapped plate of food that you cooked from the night before in the fridge. He always wondered why you went so far as to do something like this for him but he won’t deny how much he appreciates it. The time was 10:35 pm when mello came home and you were in the midst of cooking dinner for the both of you. “ I’m home,” mello yelled to you while taking his shoes off. He walked to the kitchen and saw you standing in front of the stove while stirring a pot of soup. “Welcome home, Mihael” you said as you turned around to face him. “How was your day?” Mello sat down on the chair and let out an exhausted sigh before saying that it was fine. Mello’s eyes glanced over to you and watched your movements closely as you cut up carrots, onions, and potatoes to add to the soup. “Did you eat today?” He asked. “Yes, I have” “So why are you cooking?” “Because you have to eat” mello stayed quiet at your response. To know that you cared for him that much made him feel good because he never really got the attention and love that he yearned for so long when he was younger. “Thanks” He got up and walked over to you and intertwined his fingers with yours then gave you a quick kiss on your forehead.
𑇍 mello loves it when you tend to his wounds
𑇍 the way you handle him with such care and preciseness makes him smile a little
𑇍 he pretends to be annoyed and angry when you nag at him for coming home bruised and hurt so much but he actually likes it a lot and doesn’t want you to stop
𑇍 The reason why he likes it so much is because it gives him more time to spend with you. Since mello is a busy man he’s always somewhere away from you unfortunately so when he gets to spend time with you like this it’s even more special
The sound of flickering lights, shuffling of shoes, and rugged breathing echoed throughout the hallway of your apartment. Mello’s vision was hazy from the fight he participated in while doing some business for work, everything hurt like hell and he was trying his hardest to get to you before he passed out. His nerves created niggling aches and pains throughout his body. It felt like an hour had already went by before mello had gotten to your door. He raised his hand with the little strength he had and shakily knocked on your door before dropping his hand back down to his side and leaning his head against the door as pondered if this was even a good idea. Just as he was about to shift his legs to turn and leave, you swiftly opened the door with wide eyes once you saw mello. His nose was bleeding and a little blood had smeared on his cheek from wiping it away, his hands had cuts and lesions on them, his knuckles were extremely swollen and were bleeding too, and he many gashes on his arms. “Mihael….” You trailed off as you held his face and caressed his cheek. He knew you never liked seeing him hurt and the worry that painted your face made his stomach churn with guilt. “Sorry” he whispered softly. Ignoring his apology you shuffled him into your apartment. You helped him settle into the chair in your kitchen before leaving to go get your first aid kit. Mello sat back in your chair while taking deep shaky breaths. It was quiet except for the clacking sound of hands occasionally bumping into other products in your bathroom. You came back out and started wrapping the bandages around his hands and knuckles. You twirled the bandage around his fingers and wrapped it around his knuckles before grabbing the end and beginning of the bandage and tying it. Your feather light touches assuaged mello. He had never been touched so gently before, he was so used to the rough treatment of the people he fought and had encountered. This feeling was different though. It was comforting. Mello lidded eyes shifted to a close as he relaxed more and more into your touch with a content smile on his face. He wears he’s never loved someone as much as he loves you.
𑇍 mello loves it when you both do your nightly routine together
𑇍 at first mello didn’t have one but that changed when he started dating you
𑇍 he might act like he doesn’t like it because of all the complaints he makes but he actually likes it
𑇍 it makes him feel really relaxed and cleansed especially after a long day
“Why are we doing this [name]?” Mello questioned after letting out an exasperated sigh. “Because it’s good for your skin and it’s fun” you replied. ‘Yeah right’ Mello thought. His slender fingers picked up one of your products and examined it. ‘Tea Tree Facial Cleanser. Sounds like some expensive nonsense you’d buy’ mello tell himself. You turned around to mello after sifting through products. “Okay let’s start with the cleanser” you take the small cleansing bottle from him and pour a little on your hand then sit it down on the counter beside the other products. You start smoothing out the product onto mello’s face, not missing the way his brows relaxed. “Feeling relaxed?” You teased. “Hm, a little I guess” he grumbled while looking away. Letting out a breathy laugh, you gave him a peck on his lips then went back to work. Mello feels so tranquil while feeling the sensations of you smoothing and rubbing in the cleanser on his face. You were so gentle with him and that was something Mello liked a lot. ”Don’t fall asleep Mihael we have one more to go” “I won’t and I’m not falling asleep” Mello mumbled. “Mhm okay“ you said with a smirk. Mello came closer to the sink after you motioned him to and rinsed the cleanser off of his face. “Next is the moisturizer” you say while popping the top off and gently squeezing the bottle. “This one smells like mint, it reminds me of toothpaste” he adds. You snicker before asking him if he was ready to smell like toothpaste to which he groaned and told you to shut up. “Let’s just get this over with” he said while sitting down. You went over to him and did the same thing, smoothing and rubbing the product into his face gently. Once again mello relaxes into your warm hands. It’s like he’s on cloud nine being pampered and caressed by an angel. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you mihael? You make it seem like you don’t like it but you actually do! How cute” you say while laughing in between sentences. “No I don’t! This is such a burden and it’s boring, why would I like this” mello turned his head away from you defiantly which made you laugh even harder. If you knew that he actually did like these nightly routines you’d tease the hell out of him, and he couldn’t have that now could he?
reblogs are appreciated!
#x black reader#mello x black reader#mello death note#mello x reader#mello x you#death note x black reader#death note
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Ever randomly wanted to try sugaring cuz TikTok is a bad influence at 3am and redid the sugar wax like 7 times because it was either too runny or too hard but then once you finally get it right you use it and you start bleeding and it's everywhere and it's painful and so your just a sticky bloody swollen mess? Well how'd the guys react to reader and her TikTok obsession getting her into that mess and she just messages the guys asking for help or one of them just finds the kitchen covered in sugar and then it gets all the guys involved and they eventually find reader with completely sticky red swollen skin? (I'm fine now lol)
Good lord 😭 I remember when sugaring was a trend on TikTok. I never tried it but an old roommate of mine did. She burned herself trying to make it and now has a gnarly scar on her chest from it. Glad you hear you're fine though!!
Yeah, if the reader ever texted them help, they're all running. Like sprinting to where the reader is. Full panic mode. Probably wouldn't take them long to track down the reader, since they're kind of pros at that, but the sugar everywhere definitely is a clue.
You can bet your ass they're hauling her off to the med center. If it's daytime, Dr. Keller. If it's 3 AM, then the ER to make sure there's no severe burns or permanently damaged skin.
Definitely not getting away with trying anything like that again. John pulls out his Captain hat and tells the reader she can't do anything she sees on TikTok without supervision. Even if it's just making a recipe or doing a dance. They're not taking any chances with their precious little omega. (Not like they're not hovering constantly lmao)
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the prince and the knight (♡︎)
#and here we are finallyy#i wanted to do this since a long time 😭#also im kinda satisfied with the result??#anyway#hope you like it 💖#thomas lightwood#thomastair#alastair carstairs#the last hours#chain of iron#chain of thorns#tlh#my art🌷
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#RWBY#Blake Belladonna#Yang Xiao Long#Bumbleby#rwby spoilers#GOD I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE THIS HAPPENED#IT'S BEEN SUCH A LONG TIME COMING 😭😭😭😭#I've wanted a garden to bloom when they kissed so bad since Ruby crying made it rain#lmao which was honestly the real reason I wasn't completely hyped about the kiss being on a bridge#I wanted my garden#BUT OF COURSE THEY MADE IT WORK#WHEN DO THEY NOT MAKE IT WORK FOR THE BEES#otp: bumblebee#For my own tagging purposes
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Small but significant character moments that I actually really adore are from both the times we see the boys as tots. There is a reoccurrence that happens in both of them that I find so incredibly interesting.
For the turtle tot short, Splinter leaves the boys with weapons. In the short, Raph is the one who suggests they do “what Lou Jitsu would do” and Leo is the one who takes point when Splinter comes back to reprimand them. Leo, in taking point, is the one to defend them and get Splinter off their tails.
And then, in the flashback regarding the Kuroi Yōroi helmet, Raph is the one who grabs and throws “Skully” as a way to replace their missing ball which breaks it into pieces, but Leo is the one who speaks for the group and rushes into action to fix the teapot.
I love this for multiple reasons, but the biggest are how it shows that Raph has always been inclined toward the bold and fun and making the plans to include his brothers in what he loves and believes they’d love, whereas Leo has always been inclined to be the “Face” of the group and shoulder the attention even if it’s potentially negative all while coming up with on the spot attempts to fix the situation.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt raph#rottmnt leo#rise Raph#rise leo#I really do love this bit of character writing a ton#again it’s so small but like this is consistent!#little Raph just wanted to have fun with his bros 😭#Leo immediately coming in with the save both times (and more - remember Bug Busters?)#I really love too how none of them pointed fingers like#it was Understood that Leo would speak for them#listen there’s a reason Leo is the Face Man and it’s NOT just because he’s got a pretty face#he can talk both himself and his fam out of situations and I wish we saw it even more because it’s amazing to witness#circling back to Raph his bold nature is something I ADORE about him but I don’t see it brought up a lot which makes me so sad#like this boy is a RAPHAEL he is bold!!#and it’s cute too how the other bros immediately go along with it too#imo the Raph in these tot flashback is the same Raph that glues them all together as a bonding exercise#side note but damn…Leo saves them from punishment in the tot short and immediately gets jumped 😔#but yeah man I think a Lot about the little dynamics between the bros and how those dynamics could have first came into being#Leo being the face of the team and having been it since childhood-#-makes all the moments of immediately choosing to sacrifice himself when HE royally messes up all the more notable#if it’s one bro or the whole group individually he’s more chill about it but often still lets himself be the talker to get them out of it#he will do his damndest to get his brothers and himself out of trouble but once they’re in it he’s in the front with a smile#his own safety be damned#Raph is actually the same in that respect - he’ll jump into danger fists first but all bets are off when a brother is in danger#and like how Leo’s been the face - as the eldest Raph has been the de facto leader of sorts#he’s the one who is shown to make up their games! and I think that’s very cute#anyway their clashing in the movie is so interesting for a lot of reasons but one of them is that it shows how-#-even a longstanding dynamic like Raph and Leo’s that’s WORKED for so long is still susceptible to flaws…and to time
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is it an autistic experience to ALWAYS be the one in a friend group who gets left out, alienated, secretly disliked, then kicked out of the group?
#autistic#autism#actually autistic#autism things#asking autistics#i want/need a friend group but it ALWAYS GOES BAD!!!!!!!! AND ITS SOMEHOW ALWAYS MY FAULT?! idk what im doing wrong. people suck.#but i need people and i hate that about me. why cant i split myself in half a few times#or learn how to do group activities alone....like playing tennis. going to the amusement park ive wanred to go to since i was a kid.#drive alone on long trips where i will fall asleep but talk to myself so i dont or something. walk on the park trails alone where people#get kidnapped and stuff when alone. go to a convention and cosplay a group of characters alone. one for each finger....#if you cant tell im being sarcastic. and doing a bad job. sighs. i hate that i have to do everything i need/want a group for alone because#i cant make friends or make groups keep me in them. assuming because im autistic and they hate me 🙃#eother that or im a piece of shit and dont realize it!!!!! how am i supposed to know when no one tells me!!!! 😭😭😭😭#so is it actually me and my fault or is it because im autistic and people just do this to us for some reason#autism stuff
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Thinking of making one of those life series askblogs with all the dead characters in some form of afterlife. They’re really fun and things like that have been in my head since Last Life started so if anyone’s gonna jump on that you know it’s me (especially since I’ve run 3… successful enough ask series in the past).
#YES I’m talking about. uh. I forgot their url but I’ve been following for a long time 😭#life series winners blog you know. that’s all over the tag.#and then someone made a school one? I gotta look into that one more seems fun#so yeah I’m really tempted to do one myself cuz like I said since LL started I’ve loved the idea of these guys hanging out after death#I just need to refine some lore for it. and something to set it apart from the others#of course they’re already different. life series winners one is about the winners reacting to the seasons + it’s like a mega crossover#and then the school one. bro I’m calling it the school one. it CLEARLY has a thing lol. and I’m not copying that idea.#so automatically it’s different but what will make mine interesting? aside from the fact that I want to actually draw them#no offense to the other ones I think it’s great that they don’t need to draw. I just want to.#maybe while refining the lore I’ll come up with something. it’ll be based on my headcanons so there’s already some potential lmao
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🐠🐠🐠
#my art lol#vocaart#utau fanart#utau#kazehiki#kazehiki utau#i lost track of time and its 2am. where am i. wtf#i cant look at this for too long or ill Succumb To The Curse (decide i hate it 😭)#theres some stuff i like but otherssssss. not so much. maybe i can blame it on doing this in ibispaint rather than my usual firealpaca hakj#i found some brushes that are more reminiscent of what i use in firealpaca so. yeyee it was experimenting time b/c My Mind's In Hell#bleh i wanted to do smthn w/ his bt outfit since it does kinda look like a sailor fit lol. so water related smthn smthn but ill revisit thi#at some other point maybe im. hmmmmmm. still on this. couldnt come up w/ a cool caption or anything either lol so you just get fish emoji 😭#ALSO THOUGH WOO first time drawing kazehiki thats NOT a shitpost fucking lmfaoooo. i do need to draw serious things w/ him#vocaloid#vocaloid fanart
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Oughh,, ok I'm revealing now that I'm planning on emotionally wrecking everyone by going with the Kepler lyric video after all and I've so far fully sketched 9 PANELS 😵💫😵💫😵💫 6 of which I did just today sjfjgjg
#jane journals#self insert talk#kinda sorta.#and ive got 12 MORE TO GO 😭😭😭 yall better appreciate this shit when its finished#and i mean im doing this for personal fulfillment too#ive wanted to do this for a LONG time now. like ever since i heard the song and decided it was about kep sjfjfk#the lyric video is hopefully gonna end up a true vision of what ive imagined every time ive listened to it#and not to brag but i showed my partner rhe thumbnails and that ALONE made her cry 😤😤#but anyway wish me luck yall sjfkfkg#im bringing a vision to life
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its always surreal to me to see people praise s2 of centaurworld. s2 was so spectacularly bombastic and aimless and it ended in this awkward forgettable fizzle.
i feel like a dick saying it b/c i really do love the show lmao. or, at least half of it lmao (/stares at tnwk). gf and i've been thinking about rewatching it just to write out our thoughts on why s2 was such a poor follow-up to s1 - from the tone to the setup to all the worldbuilding the narrative had to offer in between the (far more) memorable songs of s1. idk. it's sad because cw really had the bones of a cult classic, but idek if you can call it that.
ive seen a few posts commenting on its lack of popularity, and i feel like it certainly deserves more, b/c i do feel like it's a novel idea made w/ love, but the shift btwn s1 and s2 wasnt just in the plot. there was a full-on *fracture* in the quality and direction and i'm still scratching my head over it. more than i should be, probably. but, it's just a bummer.
#centaurworld#centaurworld critical#<- a tag i never thought i'd use lol#ok EDIT: fuck it im tagging this maybe there are others who'll also see their own viewing experiences in this post too#dont mind me rambling#but i got an ask on my thoughts abt cw a long time ago (hi!! i still have it 😭) and ive been wanting to write a detailed response since.#debating tagging this since the fandom's already p small and i dont wanna bump the tag with negativity#even if it is (what i feel is) p fair criticism. but idk people are sensitive and conflate it w hate idk idk#ive seen thinly-veiled hate posts in the t*ngled the series tags and it's always bothered me.#bc you can tell op just like hates xyz character or the show entirely and its like can you just come out and say it LMFAOO#but i genuinely like cw. i so so very much do. so i get bummed out! gf and some other friends and i were so excited for s2 and#when it rolled out ep by ep we were like 'it'll get better right? right?'#also tempted to just draw more cw fanart in general bc the t t s fandom is slow and if half the people dont have each other blocked#theres simply 0 overlap in fave chars or interpretations so lmao#im going back to work i just feel sour LMAO#also adding that i think a lot of people conflate a story eliciting an emotional reaction from you = its good#but ill revisit that and all these thoughts again eventually in another post. we'll see.#and i STILL want a nwk tattoo lmao. or at least an elkie. gf and i love elk bc of this guy! the impact that he has!#xangoeswah
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