ugh i wanna write a new fic but my only ideas are long multi chapter endeavors and i just finished squeezing one out so i’m tired lol

the threat is gone (spencer reid/reader)

Title: the threat is gone

Requested: yes, was a request someone sent to @imagining-in-the-margins, but I took it off her hands :) (Reader is being threatened by an unsub and is given safety instructions by reid that she disobeys out of boredom, so when the threat is over she tries to joke/lie/argue her way out of trouble but he’s in total dead serious fbi interrogation mode and calmly hauls her over his lap and doesnt stop til she’s crying hard and has told him everything and then he comforts her n from there whatever)

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader 

Category: angst, slight smut (either way, minors dni)

Content Warning: swearing, dishonesty, being spanked (to the point of tears), aftercare, D/s dynamic, reader being a brat, usual criminal minds case stuff, post prison & post series!reid, implied age gap (10 years),  use of a safeword

Word Count:  3,901

Summary:  Spencer sends Reader to a safe house after she’s threatened by an unsub. Reader decides to take her fate in her own hands and leave the safety. When Spencer finds out what she did, there’s hell to pay

A/N: happy easter to those who celebrate! pom (aka @imagining-in-the-margins​ )posted this in her discord and said if someone had any ideas for this, we could have it. and i loved the request so i took it off her hands. also thank you to @newportonmymind for beta reading this for me!! thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

“Anderson and a cop are going to take you to a safe house,” Spencer looked down at me. I shifted on my feet as I looked up at him. My heart was in my throat. I didn’t think this unsub was that bad. 

“I’m not going to a safe house, Spencer. Being here is probably the safest place I could be. By your side… With the team,” I stepped up to him as I grabbed his hands. He looked down at me, a certain frustration in his eyes. 

“His victims are too much like you. We’re not taking that chance, I’m not taking that chance. Do you understand?” Spencer’s voice was low as he spoke. I swallowed roughly as he placed his hands on my shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, I understand,” I scoffed and shrugged his hands off my body. Spencer looked at me, watching as I collected my belongings. 

“Please, just trust me,” his voice was soft. I looked up at him, putting my bag across my body. 

“Yeah, of course, Spence, I trust you, wholeheartedly,” I smiled at him. He didn’t believe me. Granted, I didn’t exactly believe myself either. Why would I? I’m being snappy and sarcastic, and dismissive to everything he said. “I’ll be safe. Anderson and a random cop will be with me. Do not worry,” I went up to him before pressing my lips to his. 

“It won’t be for long. We’ll be back home before you even know it,” Spencer smiled, resting his hands on my hips before kissing me again. “You’ll listen to me and Anderson, understand,” he kept his tone soft and quiet, but still held authority.

“Yeah, yeah! My life is now in his hands. I wholeheartedly trust you and Anderson,” I whispered as I kept my eyes on him. He looked down at me, his honey-like hazel eyes watching every detail on my face. Part of me wondered why he stared at me the way he did. Was he memorizing every little detail of my face, just in case something happened to me?  Nothing will happen to me, that’s the whole reason why he’s having me go to a safe house with Anderson. 

“I love you,” his voice wavered slightly with his words. It was clear he was trying to not let his emotions show, but was also obviously losing. 

“I love you too,” I smiled before pressing his lips to mine for the briefest moment.

“Sorry to interrupt,” a voice came from the doorway, forcing Spencer and I to part. I swallowed roughly before turning to look at the door, seeing Anderson leaning against the doorframe. “But we’re ready to go,” he looked between Spencer and me.

“I’ll see you soon,” Spencer lifted his hand to my face, gently holding my cheek in his large palm. I swallowed roughly and nodded. “And don’t forget your promise. Follow your orders, and be a good girl,” he whispered the last part so only I would hear it.

“Ye-yeah, yeah… We’ll see you soon,” I repeated what he said before kissing him one last time. As much as I didn’t want to, I stepped away from Spencer’s body and followed closely behind Anderson. The cop that was behind us held a jacket over my body to hide my identity and keep me hidden from anyone unsub. 

“We’re going to stop at your place before we go to the safehouse, so you can get some clothes, toiletries and other belongings,” Anderson looked over at me once we got settled in the car. I glanced over at him and nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” I swallowed roughly and nodded, “Will we be able to stop at a store too?” 

“Everything you should need, food and entertainment, should be at the safehouse when we arrive,” Anderson backhandedly answered my question. I furrowed my eyebrows as I stared at him.

The rest of the drive to the apartment was tense and silent. It was almost like we were in a library. Any sound or comment that was made, any breath that was breathed, felt wrong and I should be executed for it. But, that would kind of defeat the purpose of me going to this safehouse, right?

“Be quick, we only have a few minutes. We have to be on the road before dark,” Anderson looked at me as we both walked up the steps to the apartment complex. I glanced over at him and nodded lightly.

“Will do,” I nodded as I pulled out the keys and unlocked the building’s door. Anderson stayed standing outside the building, by the door, as I went inside.

The apartment that I shared with Spencer was a mess, but to be fair it was mostly Spencer’s mess. Books, papers and files scattered over any surface. And if there was an exposed surface, it was occupied by a coffee cup. At the office and on the road, Spencer is neat and organized, but at home, when his walls come down and once he’s in the zone, the organization goes out the window. Teaching tended to take a back seat; the papers that littered the room (and office and bedroom) consisted of papers he has/is supposed to grade.

I think the only organized room was our bedroom. Even though no one else ever entered that room, he always had it pristine. He knew where everything was, and if one thing was out of place or out of line, he’d know in an instant. We had come to a shared agreement that the bedroom was for bedroom activities only. If we could keep work stuff out of our room, we would. Our room was the only truly the only place we had control, hence the cleanliness and order of it.

I was quiet as I grabbed my backpack. Shoving my clothes into it, I muttered strings of profanities. Spending time in stupid safe house sounded like pure hell, absoulte boredom. Why would he think I would be okay at a safehouse? I could be useful at the office, and safer too. What’s safer than being with the team, not to mention with Spencer?

With a deep and resigned sigh, I threw the straps of my backpack over my shoulders. Anything to make Spencer happy, I suppose. I was a brat, but this didn’t seem like something to fight him on. 

I quietly exited my home and went back outside, where Anderson was still waiting. 

“Ready,” I looked over at him, feeling a fake smile grow across my lips. Anderson looked at me and nodded before taking the lead back to the cop car. I looked over at him and nodded as the car finally jerked forward and took off. 

If I thought the drive to the apartment was bad… The drive to the safehouse was worse. If I had known it was going to be a 1 hour drive, I would have fought harder. This time around, I could sense that Anderson was trying to make some sort of an effort to make me feel better about this situation. But it was clear it was a fail of an attempt too. He kept talking about the things he enjoyed rather than common interest, or small talk. Yes, Spencer could do the same, but at least his factoids were adorable or at least relevant.

I almost felt bad, because I had honestly stopped listening to everything he said. I’m not sure when I stopped listening, sometime around the time he started talking about baseball. I take back what I said about Spencer, this was far worse. I swear, I actually liked listening to Spencer ramble on and on when he info dumps. But Anderson… 

“Anderson,” I looked over at him, cutting him off as he spoke, “Please… For the love of God… I know you love baseball… But you have got to stop talking for five fucking minutes,” I took a deep breath as I stared at him. He looked back at me before closing his mouth and nodding. 

Thankfully, the rest of the drive was silent. I almost couldn’t believe how quiet it was. And, I almost couldn’t think of a time where it was silent for such a long period of time. I suppose in the moment I was thankful that things were turning out the way they were.

“Here’s your bedroom,” Anderson spoke cooly as we walked past a room. I looked over at him, feeling my exhaustion spread through my body. “Rest all you want. There’s some books that Spencer sent over that you could read. As well as movies you could watch,” he looked over at me. I looked back at him and nodded.

“I think I’ll do that… Everything that’s happened today… I’m exhausted,” I laughed nervously as I entered the room. Anderson looked at me and nodded, watching as I closed the door. I pressed my back to the door once it was shut, clicking it locked with a sigh. 

My eyes scanned across the bland room. It consisted of a bed, a night stand, a lamp, and a window. Of course, all safe houses are basically empty homes. Fake houses that looked lived in, when in reality they were nothing.

But then I looked back at the window… We were only an hour away from the apartment… Surely I could...

“Like hell I’m going stay in this stupid safe-house with Anderson,” I scoffed before rushing over to the window. I threw it open so fast I was worried I’d broken it. I didn’t have every step of my escape planned out, but I knew I had to get out of here. I knew I could think on my feet, so the spontaneity didn’t faze me.

I had to be quick as I had to make sure that Anderson didn’t clue into what I was doing. Because the second he knew that I wasn’t in the the safe house anymore, was the second Spencer knew, and then I’d be in big trouble -- worse than if the unsub were to catch me. 

“Okay, okay,” I whispered as I patted down my pockets, feeling for my phone and wallet, trusting that everything else that I needed would be in my bags. I’d be back by the end of this case. I wasn’t exactly running away, I was just getting away because this was stupid. The safest place I would have been in was with Spencer and the rest of the team. I knew that, and I knew Spencer just needed reminding that I was right.  

‘I wasn’t running away,’ I thought to myself as I looked out the window. It wasn’t a far jump. 3 yards at least. I wouldn’t get hurt by that, should I? 

I glanced over my shoulder, just making sure no one was watching me, before finally jumping out the window. I grunted when I landed on the ground. Then, I was off.

There was a coffee shop not far from the house. That was my destination. And then from there, I’d get an uber or taxi back home, or shopping, or someplace else. As long as I was away from danger, I was okay. 

I could feel a certain anxiety grow up my throat the further I got from the safe house. It wasn’t because I was afraid that I was going to get hurt. It was because of Spencer. I just wasn’t sure how he’d take to that news -- but I could take an educated guess. It was honestly a matter of time before I go-

Spencer Calling…

I stared at the screen, looking at the picture of Spencer and I at one of Rossi’s fabulous parties. I swallowed back my fear and anxiety, and took a deep breath of courage before pressing answer.

“Hel-”

“Where the hell are you!?” Spencer growled as his voice came through the speaker. Fear… Fear grew in the pit of my stomach, and it was hard to breathe. “I swear to God,”

“I’m fine! I’m safe…” I returned as my steps slowed on the sidewalk. I didn’t totally answer his question. I didn’t really want to tell him I was at a coffee shop 5 minutes away from the safe house. Because then he’d have Anderson on my ass in a second. 

“That doesn’t answer my question, and you know that,” Spencer snapped back. I froze in my tracks, my heart beating harder than I could control. “Where are you? Make me ask again and I won’t be nice,” 

“Spencer,” I started, my voice low and shaky, “I can’t tell you,” I shook my head. I could hear the breath of air that Spencer let out, and it only scared me more.

“If you’re not back at that safe house in 20 minutes, you will have the biggest punishment. Do you understand, Princess?” 

“I’ll be safe, Spencer,” I muttered. I stared at the ground for a long time as we both stayed silent. It was hard to say how long passed, but it was a while. “Bye Spencer,”

“If you hang up, I swear,” he started but I didn’t get to feel the end of it before I hung up. I swallowed roughly before continuing my trek towards the coffee shop as my phone buzzed continuously.

{***}{***}{***}

“Where were you again?” Spencer asked, just to ask. He didn’t forget. The man he is? He’d never forget. Especially something like this.

“Coffee shop and Library, I thought you would just have Garcia track me.” I mumbled as I waited for him to unlock the door. My stomach was slowly churning the longer he took to unlock the door. Although, I was okay with how slow he was. The slower he took, the longer I had before the punishment.

Spencer huffed out a breath of air and shook his head. I stared at him, watching as the door finally unlocked and was pushed open.

“Do you have any idea how irresponsible that was?! How… How much danger you were in?!” Spencer shouted as we both entered the apartment. I glanced at him as I made my way to the couch.

"C'mon, I was probably safer at the library and coffee shop anyways! Bastard knew I’d go to a safe house and our apartment," I shrugged as I flopped onto the couch. Spencer looked down at me like he was the parent reprimanding their disobedient child. Granted, that’s kind of how our dynamic was when we weren’t at work or it was a normal day. I do have to admit though, I was wrong for not going where he wanted me to.

"You directly disobeyed me. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?! How could you be so reckless!? You have no idea how scared I was when I heard you weren’t at the safe house,” he shouted, but as he got closer to the end of his sentence, his words got quieter and his voice cracked. I looked up at him, the feeling of guilt suddenly eating away in my stomach. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t know what else you want me to say or do, Spencer…” I muttered before shrugging. I glanced at him as he stood on the other side of the coffee table. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt, quietly muttering something as he went. “Spencer, look, I said I’m sorry… I’m home and I’m safe…” I watched him with anxiety bubbling in my stomach.

"You disobeyed me, put yourself in danger,," his voice was low as he stood up. I watched as he walked over. The hairs on the back of my neck were instantly standing, and I could feel goosebumps grow all over my arms. “Sorry just isn’t going to cut it,” he looked down at me. I looked up at him, and I knew exactly what he was about to do. So my next question was redundant.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I looked up at him. My heart was suddenly in my stomach as he lowered to my height. I tried to look anywhere but him, but that was hard when he placed his finger under my chin, coaxing me to look at him. I tried my hardest to not look up at him, but it was so hard to not look at him. He was right there and he was my favorite person to look at. But, to be fair, when he was mad it made me a little nervous.

"Well, you decided to go and break my instruction. And you know what happens to little girls who disobey their rules," he kept his voice low as he spoke. I dropped my gaze to my lap as he sat beside me. A shiver shot down my spine as I locked eyes with him… In that moment, I knew I was done for...  

"Wait, Spencer," I exclaimed as he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me so I was lying across his lap. I lifted my head and looked up at him with wide eyes “Spencer! Spencer! Wait! Please!” I struggled as I squirmed in his lap. I wanted so badly to just slide out of his arms, but the way he held me made it damn near impossible to slide away from him.

“I’ve asked for an explanation and you didn’t provide one,” he spoke cooly. He kept his hands on my back, and not going any lower than my hips. I took a moment, struggling to breathe as I thought of why I left the safe house and Anderson. 

“I was just bored, okay? I was bored. And thought it was stupid that you had me leave the office and the team to go to a safe house,” I tried to wiggle from his grip again, but failed when his hold on me tightened. I swallowed roughly, hoping my truth telling would work, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t.

“Is this the truth?” Spencer asked, his tone somewhat overly nice. I bit my lips together and nodded lightly.

“It’s the truth, I swear, Spencer, it’s the truth,” I whispered. I knew telling the truth would lessen the harshness of his punishment. And, maybe it would. He does know when to be gentle.

“I’m happy you gave me the truth. But that still doesn’t mean it was okay to disobey me, you know that, don’t you Princess?” he whispered as he brushed down my hair. I let out a deep sigh before reluctantly nodding. 

“I know,” It was inevitable at this point. I owned up to my mistake, and now I need to own up to the punishment. And I knew exactly what was going to happen. 

“I’ll go easy on you, okay?” He kept his voice low. He knew if his voice was any louder, I’d instantly back away from all of this. “I think ten strikes is appropriate... Do you agree?” 

I would rather have less, and Spencer knew that too.  But if I argued he’d only add more. Which was worse than the ten he already offered. I knew that after he’d be okay and it’d be over with.  Fuck, I already wanted it to be over.

“Yes, sir,” I sighed deeply. I lifted my hips enough for him to pull my pants down over my bottom. My chest tightened as I tried to take a deep, shaky breath as I anticipated the first strike. 

My ears could just barely pick up the soft rush of air from Spencer’s hand before it landed hard against my bottom. I took a sharp breath of air and dropped my head down to the cushion.

“One…” I whispered as my hands gripped his pants tightly. I swallowed roughly as I tried to steady my breathing. Spencer gave me a moment to breathe before giving me two and three in a quick go. Four came after a brief moment. But then… Five was when it started getting shaky for me. Tears had started rolling on my face between three and four, but it didn’t start becoming trouble till five.

“Five! I understand! I swear! I’m sorry!” I cried out once his hand connected hard with my ass for the 5th time. And, okay, that one hurt, like a lot. I couldn’t tell if it was the sting that hurt, or the repeated assault on the sore spot… But I knew it hurt. With each strike, I could almost feel Spencer’s anger and anxiety. I definitely felt bad about doing what I did.

I don’t know if I’ll make it to ten...

“Just five more,” Spencer spoke softly as his hand carefully massaged my butt-cheek. I could tell he started feeling bad. But, we both knew he had to follow through with it. 

His hand whizzed through the air and smacked against my ass. A loud crack came through the air, and a sharp gasp fell from my lips. And, that was it. I definitely don’t think I’ll make it to ten. This was it. 

“Buttercup!” I shouted as my eyes snapped open. I could still feel the tears burning down my cheeks. Before Spencer could make contact for the 7th time, he stopped. He kept both his hands away from my body as I moved away from him. With that, we were both silent for a minute, as I tried to recalibrate my breathing. 

Spencer looked over at me, sensing his sudden change in demeanor. His anger and anxiety was gone and replaced with a guilty panic. The atmosphere changed.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked after a minute had passed. I was, painfully, sitting on the next cushion away from him. I needed my space. I bit my lips and nodded as I roughly wiped my cheeks. 

“I’m okay,” I whispered looking back at him. I watched as he slowly lifted his hands, offering both of them for me to hold. I stared at them for a while before just falling into his sigh, a shaky breath, almost a sob, going through my body.

“I got you; you’re ok, you’re safe. I was so worried. You have to understand how dangerous it was for you to just leave like that. I thought I was never going to see you again,” Spencer whispered, bringing a hand to run over my hair. I bit my lips and nodded.

“No, I know… I’m sorry for… I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I don’t even know… I should have just stayed at the safe house,” I whispered as I pressed my face into his shoulder. I felt as he let out a deep sigh and wrapped his arms around me, resting and hand on my lower back. 

I was happy he didn’t mention how I told him the truth a little bit ago. My body could feel the exhaustion from the whole day. It wasn’t just the punishment, or the little bit of arguing, or even the running away. It was everything combined. I needed sleep soon. Spencer knew that too.

“Why don’t we go into our room and cuddle,” he whispered as he continued stroking my hair. I sniffled lightly before laughing. Just like he was reading my mind. He knows me better than anyone. “I just want you safe in my arms.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I’d like that a lot, actually,” I looked up at him. Spencer smiled at me before lightly pressing his lips to mine. 

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @thebluetint

If your prompts are still open. Az has gone missing on a mission that he’s been undercover for 6 months and Elain’s worried sick and a vice a versa of the “I’m getting her back” moment. Where Elain uses her powers to find him and save him 🤗

We have more things outside my comfort zone xD But I like action like this and I can use it to play off of some things floating around in my head. Also, I totally loved that Azriel was like “I’m being a part of this mission to save elain. No one is stopping me” because YESS. Also, this is difficult, at least for me to do as a one shot. SO I am sorry for the wait, it’s only been 20,000 years. But I hope that you enjoy it regardless. It ended up being almost 3000 words. Which is a lot for me.

Az had always found a way to contact her, even when he likely shouldn’t have. It’d been a way to reassure her that he was safe. After the times Feyre disappeared and they never heard from her (though part of that had been a whole other mess), it had been comforting that he would let her know he was safe.

After 3 months, the communication stopped. She waited a few days, then a couple weeks. And soon it’d been four months since he’d left, and a whole month without any communication. She was worried at that point. But when she’d brought it up to Nuala and Cerridwen, they had somewhat helped ease her worries. Sometimes, no matter how much Azriel might want to try to keep in touch, he would have to forgo it sometimes.

And that worked to calm her for only another month. When another month passed, and she hadn’t heard from him, the worry began to return. But he was supposed to be home soon. She could wait and count the days.

But once it’d hit the mark that he’d been gone for six months, she was beyond reasoning anymore. He was supposed to be home. He should have been home, and if he wasn’t going to be home, he would have told someone…anyone that he’d been delayed. Even the others were worried though they tried to rationalize it. And they’d never say anything to her. But they didn’t know she’d been learning from him and the shadow twins. So she knew even they were worried.

So it came down to Elain. She would find him, if it was the last thing she did.

When Nuala and Cerridwen entered her room, she was dressed in a way she’d never been dressed before. She had on pants, and tunic, held together with a belt. A dagger that Azriel had gifted her at his side.

“Lady…” Nuala had started.

“Nuala,” Elain interrupted. “Something has happened to Azriel, and I know it. And no one else is as concerned as me. They don’t know that they should be worried.”

It was Cerridwen who gave a subtle nod. Followed shortly by her twin.

“I think I can find him,” Elain continued shortly. “But…I don’t know if I can help him alone. But I have to go after him. I have to find him and I have to do whatever I can to help him.”

It was a plea for them to help, though she couldn’t find the words to directly ask them. That was something she still struggled with. Something she wasn’t sure how to overcome. Perhaps it was guilt, from being so reliant on Feyre for so long, and not feeling able to do more for her. And now the idea of relying on anyone for help, it brought back feelings of guilt and shame. At least, with the important things, the bigger things.

The shadow twins, for everything they’d done to help teach her, seemed to understand. And this was why she was relieved when they gave another silent nod. It was the middle of the night. Rhys and Feyre had retired to their room long ago and would hopefully either be too preoccupied to notice her leaving, or fast asleep already.

She paused though, opening the door a crack to close a letter into it for Feyre. She didn’t want her sister to think she’d been taken. Or that she’d run away. But she intended to ensure that Feyre didn’t follow after her. She could do this, and would. Azriel and the shadow twins had taught her a lot.

Feyre,

I’ve left to get Azriel. I couldn’t sit and wait any longer. I know something has happened. So I’m going to find him. Don’t worry. I have help. And I know we can save him. I’ll be back.

Elain

Then Elain followed the twins out the front door of the river manor, and they stepped into shadows. Traveling through shadows had probably been the strangest thing that Elain had learned from Azriel. It was almost like winnowing (though she hadn’t been able to learn that), only instead of feeling like she was in a void, she felt wrapped in mysterious fabric. She preferred it. She wanted to be well outside of Velaris before using the Map she’d packed to try and find Azriel. As far as she could be from both sisters in case they tried to trace her using her powers.

Once they were in the woods, hiding in a cave, wrapped in shadows, Elain pulled out the map and laid it out flat. She’d only used this particular piece of her abilities twice. And even then, it’d only worked once, when finding the suriel for Feyre. But Nuala and Cerridwen each put a comforting hand on her shoulder and she closed her eyes. She focused on Azriel. On the way his scars looked and felt. On that sometimes faraway look in his eyes. On the way his wings shifted when he moved. She focused on the sound of his voice, the sound of his laugh.

And then her hand was moving, pointed finger tracing along the map until it stopped. She took a moment before opening her eyes. And then she was filled with such a deep rage as she’d never felt before that she was moving. Leaving behind the map, and nearly the twins as she moved. She let herself move through shadows quickly and without thought. Nuala and Cerridwen barely kept up with her. Until she started slowly from exhaustion. But she kept trying to push herself until the twins grabbed her and held her.

“You can’t keep going, lady,” Nuala said gently.

“You’re exhausted. You won’t be able to help him if you use all of your strength now,” Cerridwen reminded. 

And because they’d stopped moving, Elain felt the exhaustion truly hit her. And she nearly fell back into the females. So she nodded and set down her pack. She grabbed a blanket, and smiled slightly to herself when she saw the twins with their blankets from Solstice. It didn’t take long for sleep to claim her though as she wrapped herself with her own blanket, huddled with the two shadows. 

When Elain woke, she knew more time than she’d have liked had passed. But Nuala and Cerridwen had food. 

“You need to eat too,” they chided. And Elain listened, taking the food. She ate it, feeling her stomach grumbling anyway. She even pulled out the apples she had packed and handed each of the twins one and ate one herself. Then she made quick work of packing everything up and getting ready to move again. She would get to Azriel today. She didn’t care what it would take. 

Once the three women had their things together, she left the map for last. She checked again, focusing in on Azriel, letting her finger come to rest on his location. He hadn’t been moved. She felt both relief and fear there. She could still find him. But what if it meant a worse fate for him than she expected? She didn’t let herself consider the worst. She needed to keep it together as she put away the map and joined the shadow twins. 

Together they kept moving even as they reached where the wall had once stood. It felt strange, passing through that spot. Elain could still feel the remains of the immense power that it had possessed when it had been standing, though they were able to cross the invisible boundary with no problem. Soon she came to the fortress that she could never forget. She imagined that in a few centuries, it would be crumbling while she would look as she did now. That was strange.

“You two will need to disappear into the shadows,” she said softly. “If anything happens, you’ll need to be able to save him. It’s better if they think I’m alone.”

The two gave silent nods. Elain had no doubt that there would be some conflict if things came to turn. And likely they’d be trying to save her. But she was not the one needing rescuing today. 

Elain marched through the gate to Graysen’s family’s estate. The dogs approached, some growling. But some still recognized her for who she was. And they seemed almost confused, staying back. But Elain paid them no mind as she marched to the door. And then she banged her fist against the wood. Probably with more force than she intended, ultimately leaving a small dent in the spot. 

When the servant opened the door, Elain saw the flicker of surprise and recognition, and then terror as she took in the distinctly fae ears.

“I must speak with Lord Graysen,” Elain said, her tone as soft as she could allow it to be while demanding her ex-fiance’s presence.

“He will not-”

“He will come speak to me, now, or I will be forced to enter myself. Do not make me do that.” It felt wrong, made her heart skip and race with nervous energy to be so harsh. She did not like it. But she didn’t have time for politeness. Az needed help, and she was the only one coming for him.

The woman seemed to understand that Elain wasn’t going anywhere and nodded before leaving. Elain waited, taking deep breaths to calm herself. It had been a few years since she’d seen Graysen. And even then, it had ended horribly. It didn’t matter that she’d prepared herself to face it either, it had broken her and she’d been unable to hold it together. She could not fall apart again. She couldn’t afford to, Az couldn’t afford it.

The door opened, and there stood Graysen. The years hadn’t changed him, not yet. His hair was still a deep brown, his eyes blue like the ocean. But gone was all the warmth that had once been directed at her. Instead, he stared at her with cold hatred. 

“You are not welcome here,” he growled out at her. 

“Where is he?” she demanded in kind.

“Where is who?” he asked. “Surely not that mate of yours. I let Jurian deal with him. And your kind isn’t welcome here.”

Elain glowered. Both at the mention of Lucien against her, and the way he spoke of her. It wasn’t as if she’d asked to be kidnapped in the middle of the night and tossed into the cauldron. It wasn’t as if she’d asked to be fae. “I know he’s here,” she said in a low voice. “I am giving you the chance to free Azriel, or I will take him myself.”

“You know what my fortress is like, Elain. You wouldn’t make it. You’d die first.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you Graysen.” 

“I caught your friend didn’t I?”

“Wasn’t he here to talk about the Mortal Queens? You don’t kidnap and hold those who are trying to help you.”

It made sense now. Azriel hadn’t told her everything. He was going to gather more intel on the mortal queens, and then relay them at a meeting. She hadn’t really thought about it much, assuming it would be with Lucien and Jurian as well. But instead he ended up being held by Graysen.

“What does it matter to you? Don’t you think that you’re spreading yourself a little thin. A mate. This...creature. Are there other men? Perhaps Jurian and he just wants to keep that tidbit to him-”

Silence followed the sound of skin hitting skin. Elain’s hand dropped. Greysen’s head was turned, his hand cradling his cheek as blood started to pool at the corner of his mouth.

“Do. Not. Try to shame me. Not for what I am. Not for Lucien. And not for Az. I loved you. With all my heart once upon a time,” she ground out. “I did not ask for what happened. I did not want it. I wanted to be here. With you. You rejected me. I didn’t ask for a mate. I didn’t want one. You were the only person I wanted. And you will not shame me for moving on. I will ask only one more time, Where is Azriel?”

Graysen looked at her with a mixture of deepened disgust and yet also fear. He hadn’t expected her to do that. Or for her to be so strong. 

But he did not answer her. So she stepped closer. Glaring up at him. “It would do well to not hurt those who are trying to help you. Not when you know the mortal queens and most of Prythian couldn’t care about any of the humans here. Or you’ll likely find yourself isolated. And you and I both know you wouldn’t survive in the end,” she said. “And I can promise you, you’ll be lucky if you don’t die for whatever harm you’ve already caused. My sister, and her mate, are rather protective of their friends.”

He glared back at her, but said nothing. She knew he was considering her words carefully.

“You have ten minutes,” he told her. “Ten minutes to find him and get out before I let loose a hunt on the grounds.”

She sighed. It was likely the best she was going to get. So she nodded. And then closed her eyes, Holding Azriel in her mind. 

“Aren’t you going to go look for him? You’re wasting precious time,” he mocked.

But she ignored him. She reached for Azriel. And let herself walk, without opening her eyes. She stayed focused on the male she loved. Her feet moved light and quick, and she was even sure she’d likely slipped into the shadows to move even faster.

“Elain?”

She opened her eyes and found Azriel chained to the wall. Immediately she recognized the Faebane. And she wondered if Graysen had made sure to collect some when Hybern’s camps and armies were being raided. She was shocked she’d even managed to find him. She remembered Feyre describing how hard it had been to find Rhys when he’d been bound with it. But perhaps being cauldron made was her own private advantage. 

She smiled at him. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed in her time to find him, but she knew regardless it was dwindling. “Don’t worry, we’re going to get you out of here,” she said softly.

“We?”

Elain didn’t need to elaborate as the shadow twins came out of shadows, stepping forward. They began working on the locks to the small cell Azriel was in. And Elain barely waited for it to open before rushing in to him. She threw her arms around him. 

“Has he hurt you?” she asked, something dark in her voice. 

She was focused solely on Azriel as the shadow twins picked the locks on the cuffs. She made a mental note though to add that to the things she learned. 

Azriel shook his head. “Not really,” he groaned. “Caught me by surprise and knocked me out. And then locked me down here. He questioned me a lot. Nothing more.”

Elain wasn’t sure if he was being entirely honest. But she didn’t have time to spare for making Graysen pay. Not when she had to get Azriel out of there. His arms fell free, wrapping around her. And she soaked up that embrace. 

“We have to go,” she murmured. Graysen gave me ten minutes to find you and get off his land. After that, if we’re caught we’re in trouble.”

He nodded, and she stood, offering him a hand to help him up. It was clear the male was weakened, and it infuriated Elain. But she had to get him to safety. That was the only thing that mattered. The only thing that she could focus on.

To hide all of them as they moved, Elain had to work with the shadow twins. And she knew time had run out when they heard a guard running down a hall. They managed to just duck into a quiet room, sitting in the dark. When they’d passed, the group moved again, swiftly and quietly. 

There were a few close calls. But they managed to stay hidden, alert the whole time. Instead of fleeing towards the wall, Elain took them to the ruined estate that had once been home. She wanted Azriel to have some time and space to rest, and she set up a spot for him, starting a small fire and watching as he slept. He seemed restless in his sleep, and it worried her. So she placed a gentle hand on his head and stroked his hair, until he seemed to relax a bit. She’d done it. She’d saved him. She hadn’t been sure she’d be able to. But she had. And now it was time to take him home.

Lasting Melodies, chapter 2: Now I Only Sing Alone

About ten days ago, I thought I’d make a story for Jack Fain and Sammy Lawrence, showing their snippets of their lives together from their first performance to Jack’s untimely death. I was not planning on it being two chapters and almost four thousand words long.

I hope you all enjoy this.

---

“And that’s how ah lost my old set of keys to a pack of stray cats! Anyhow, can ya tell Sammy that I’ll need to borrow his? He’d probably kill me if I did it myself!”

“Sure thing, Wally. Just... try to make the next set last a few weeks, alright? Budget is tight.”

It wouldn’t have been the first, third, or probably tenth time Jack had visited Sammy during their supposed break period for just that reason. Jack knew by now how much Sammy hated being taken out of the zone while writing music, so he just wrote down that Wally needed keys, put the note on Sammy’s desk, and tried to leave as quietly as possible. Just as he was leaving, he heard Sammy laugh drily.

“I couldn’t avoid you here if I wanted to, could I? It’s like a diet I keep cheating on.”

Jack didn’t know what to say to that. Sammy turned to look at him.

“Well, whatever. Let’s consider this break period over. Let’s get some lunch today, discuss some things.”

Thankfully, noon came fairly quickly- Jack’s heart rate hadn’t settled since Sammy invited him to lunch.

“So... obviously keeping my distance didn’t work, but we can’t just go back to the way things were, either.”

“Yeah. Look, I know that you’re with Susie now, and that’s okay. But have you figured what you wanted out of life, yet?”

Sammy sighed. “I guess. I always figured I’d be doing something bigger with my life, but Joey does treat me well. It’s hard to admit that you’re just comfortable enough to settle.”

Jack nodded. “And I mean, you are making a name for yourself! Joey worships you, most of the music department either fears you, envies you, or lusts after you, and everyone knows your name. It must feel great.”

“I meant making a name for myself outside the studio. But yeah, as far as working in Joey Drew Studios goes, I guess I’m pretty lucky. Are you staying here, too? I know a part of you wants back in the limelight.”

“Nah. This is a crazy place, but hey, I get to dedicate myself to my favourite thing and work under my best friend. I do miss being a stage personality, but that was always a long shot. And I’ve realized that I don’t need people to notice me like that.”

“Good, because there’s something I’ve wanted to ask you. So... Susie already knows that I’m bisexual. I haven’t asked her yet, but if you could join us, would you?”

Jack was taken aback. A part of him wanted to say yes, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea. “Sammy, no. You might swing both ways, but I don’t.”

“Then don’t sleep with her?” Sammy said as though the solution was obvious.

Jack sighed. “Fine. That’s not my hesitation. Look- if we did that, who would you be showing off to your parents on Christmas? Who would you be saying your vows to?”

Sammy became defensive. “It’s not like I can give you that anyhow. Susie wouldn’t be taking anything away from you that wasn’t already out of reach.”

“You aren’t getting it. I was fine with keeping ‘us’ a secret, but I don’t want to be your dirty secret while you’re openly with someone else. Especially not... someone you kind of left me for. I’m sorry. Plus, I’ve been seeing someone else the past couple weeks.” He said it as gently as possible, but he knew they weren’t the nicest words to hear.

“Oh,” Sammy said, annoyed and disappointed.

Jack searched for a way to soften the blow. “Susie does seem like a great girl, though- I’d love to get to know her better. Why don’t you bring her to that new bar in town this Friday night, and I’ll bring my new partner so you can meet him?”

Sammy muttered a “sure,” finished up quickly, and left, clearly annoyed.

Sammy’s annoyance had dissipated by Friday night, thankfully. Susie and Jack’s new partner got along, and things seemed to have gone back to normal between him and Sammy. It seemed like they’d be just fine as friends.

---

“Just so you know, Jack- Susie recently underwent a serious life change. It’s not exactly easy for her, so please just be supportive, okay?”

“Sure- isn’t that what I do best?” Jack promised. Neither of them were exactly strangers to Susie Drama- something similar had happened a few weeks ago when Susie had been replaced as the voice of Alice Angel. Or so Jack thought until Sammy pointed her out from the crowd.

“Susie?”

“Yep.”

The woman bore little resemblance to any human being. Her skin was white as chalk, her arms and torso were too thin and elongated, her eyes were too big, and she had horns and a painful-looking halo growing out of her skull. It was as though an alien had read a written description of an attractive woman and attempted to make one out of plastic.

Jack forced himself to look away out of politeness.

“Yeah, please don’t act shocked. She’s gotten enough of that already,” Sammy requested. Jack nodded in response.

Later in the day, when she was sure Sammy wasn’t around, Susie confided in him that she was already having second thoughts about her new body. “Don’t tell Sammy,” she’d said. “He’s... a part of this, and he’d feel awful if he knew.”

For the first time, Jack began to question just what Sammy was involved with.

---

Sammy had been looking over sheet music when he felt Susie’s ice-cold black hands squeeze his arm like a vice.

“Sammy, I need you to lock me up!” she begged, fear and hot tears building in her eyes.

“Susie, why-”

“Just do it! No questions, please!”

“Calm down... Uh, I’ll...” were there any rooms in the studio that could only unlock from the inside?

Suddenly, Alice shoved past him, into the middle of the music room. Allison, who had been speaking with Jack, barely had time to turn and notice her before Alice had tackled her against a wall. Everyone backed away in terror as Alice ripped off Allison’s chestnut-brown hair and began banging Allison’s head against a wall until there was blood on her scalp and dripping out of her nose. Norman could be heard descending the stairs from his projector booth. He pushed through the crowd and tore Susie away, leaving Allison, bruised and half-bald, to crumple to the ground.

“Okay, someone call the ambulance for Allison,” Norman barked, still restraining Alice as she squirmed and struggled. Then, he turned to glare at Sammy. “And you get the people who will look after this.”

Sammy shuddered, suspecting, not for the first time, that Norman knew his secrets. But he couldn’t not handle the situation, and so he did as he was told.

Within five minutes, Alice was being escorted away by three large, burly men in dark green GENT uniforms.

“Tell them to record what you can without me,” Sammy muttered to Jack. “And tell them not to bother me under any circumstances. And... can you meet me after work?”

“Of course,” Jack replied.

Sammy nodded in response and then disappeared into his office for the the rest of the workday.

When Jack met up with Sammy at the end of the day, he still looked as fragile as spun glass- understandable after what had happened.

“Hey... do you want to come over for the evening, see if we can distract you from this?”

Sammy said nothing, but stood up and wrapped his arms around Jack. Jack held him for a while and let him cry. Jack was shedding a few tears, too- Susie had been a good friend, and it seeing her snap like that would have shaken anyone up.

“It’s okay. I’m sure that wherever they took her, she’ll be fine. They’ll help her get back to normal. Hey, if you want, we could visit her in the asylum, see how she’s doing-”

Sammy looked to Jack, trying to find the words as to explain that that wasn’t possible without saying too much. Somehow, Sammy didn’t think Jack would let him cry on his shoulder if he knew that Susie would never see the light of day again, and it was partially Sammy’s own fault.

“I know you want to tell me something. You don’t have to right now. Alright?”

And for the moment, he didn’t. But in the future, he’d have to be more careful.

---

Susie’s capture was felt by the whole music room, and not just because she was no longer lighting it up with her smile. There was an air of unease, of mystery on everything now, as though the next act of violence could be perpetrated be anyone and at any time. It pushed Jack to spend more time holed up in the sewers, and Sammy to build his own private sanctuary. Once Allison returned to work a few days later, the distrustful feelings gradually began to dissipate for most.

But not for Sammy. The effects of Susie’s capture, or something related to it, seemed to linger on him for months.

Sammy had grown paranoid around the others, and more people spoke amongst each other about what might have snapped in his brain than were willing to risk speaking to him directly. Jack worried for him, but Sammy refused to say what was bothering him, and increasingly refused his (or anyone else’s) company. He felt as though there was little to do to help him.

---

The sound of a beating heart echoed off the walls of the sewers. The ink demon grinned. The walls of the infirmary had been no match for him, and though the sewer’s thick concrete walls would most likely present more of the problem, being able to stretch his legs after months spent in one room was extremely satisfying in and of itself.

Meanwhile, Jack was frozen in fear. The creature- lord only knew what it was- hadn’t seemed to notice him yet. Jack holed up under his desk, praying that it would pass him by.

The pumping sound grew nearer.

And nearer.

Until it seemed to stop directly in front of him.

Jack carefully put his head to the ground, trying to get a peek from under his desk without making a sound. It only allowed him to see a couple feet in front of the desk, but it was enough to show that the shadowy tendrils that surrounded the creature were mere inches from him. The creature took a step forwards, and Jack could feel the creature’s shadows wrapping around him, stealing his heat, and spreading from his hands to encompass his whole body. He was paralyzed.

The ink demon tipped over his desk, grabbed him by the leg, and dragged him over his desk and to the center of the sewer, where it held Jack’s head under the tar-like ink until he drowned.

---

Not for the first time, Sammy stepped into the passenger seat of Joey’s Pontiac. It was Thursday, and they always met on Thursdays to study and practice magic together. The experience was usually, well, magical- Joey had finally found the way to be a God in Sammy’s life. But apparently, not today. Sammy sat, arms crossed and silent, for at least a minute before speaking. “Where is he, Joey? What happened to Jack Fain?”

“You tell me!” Joey said in earnest surprise. “What’s happened to him?”

“He’s been missing for four days. That’s what’s happened. He punched in on Monday and never punched out. He won’t pick up his phone, and his partner doesn’t know where he is either. Don’t tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I honestly didn’t.”

“Nothing new came out of the ink machine?”

Joey sighed heavily. “A new searcher came out of it. But that doesn’t mean anything! It could be anyone!”

Tears sprung up in Sammy’s eyes. “Drop me off at my place. I don’t want to do this tonight.”

Joey didn’t believe for a second that Sammy was only quitting for tonight. He was losing him unless he did something. “Really?” Joey said gently, “Something like this, while tragic, should encourage you if anything, shouldn’t it?”

Sammy looked to him with tired, mournful eyes.

“Think about it- if we don’t keep learning about the machine, we’ll never learn to reverse its process. Susie, Jack, anyone else who ends up connected to it- you need to keep working with me here so that we can set them free.”

Sammy laid back in his seat. “Look- I’m not going to be good company tonight... but that’s your problem. Go on, drive to the studio. Let’s do this.”

“Good. Good man.”

That night, along with the ink angel that bore no resemblance to Susie and the four or so other ink creatures that Joey or some GENT worker had locked up previously, Sammy saw a swollen searcher in a cage. If it recognized him at all, it showed no sign of it. It was a few days before Sammy managed to sneak down and give him back his hat.

Hello! Can I get Marvel, Harry Potter, Twilight, Stranger Things, The Witcher, Peaky Blinders, The Walking Dead, Suicide Squad, Game Of Thrones ship? 💖 179 cm tall; dark brown, past shoulder-length hair with bangs; blue eyes (the left eye is mixed with hazel, aka, heterochromia iridium); heptagon face shape with dimples; rectangle body shape. Hufflepuff. INFP-T. Bi-curious. Pisces-Aries cusp sign. ”Looks like could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll.” At first, I may come off as reserved, shy, yet polite. I, as many of us, have a resting bitch face, that’s why people may think that I’m in a bad mood. It takes me a lot of time to warm up to somebody, cause I have social anxiety. Hate small talk, or speaking in front of the public. When I’m nervous, I tend to mess up my words or forget what I was supposed to say. I’m usually playful, dirty-minded and goofy around close friends. I’m the so-called, ”fashionista and mom” from my circle of friends. A perfectionist, punctual, over-thinker, slight control/clean freak. Stubborn in some situations. If I’m annoyed or getting impatient, I can say something witty or sarcastic. I’m constantly fighting an inner battle with myself, trying to accept myself. I don’t like to smile or laugh in public, cause of the small gap between my front teeth. I really hate taking selfies or somebody else taking pictures of me. The clothes I wear depends on my mood (and the weather outside), but it’s always a mix of smart casual or comfortable. Don’t like doing things out of my comfort zone, prefer to stay indoors. Dislike asking people for help (it makes me feel uncomfortable). I don’t like arguments, but I will square up if they come for my family or I snapped. I’m a kind-hearted person, always ready to help someone in need, quite modest as well. My hobbies include listening to any type of music, reading, watching movies or tv shows, traveling (if given the chance), and cleaning. Have a thing for writing. Very protective of my family. Divorced parents. Motherly towards kids and friends. An old soul, and the ”black sheep” of my family. A feminist, support LGBTQ+ community. Sometimes I like to try and cook easy recipes. Dislike black coffee, prefer tea or orange juice. That’s it, - thanks!

MARVEL

I ship you with Bruce Banner!

He would be kind of wary and scared to talk to you to a start. The other guy may be big and strong, but he’s not. He doesn’t have much confidence in himself when in his human form and he would be intimidated by you at first glance, but once he actually works up the courage to come and talk to you, you’d get on great.

He knows what it's like to struggle with social anxiety so he would be patient and need some time to become comfortable with you, as well, scared of messing things up by saying the wrong thing and/or sharing too much. 

Like you, he rambles when he’s nervous so that’s just another thing you have in common, but once he’s comfortable with someone, he’s more than happy to participate in some sarcastic, dirty-minded banter. 

He’s very reserved and, like earlier mentioned, doesn’t have much confidence. He would never understand how someone like you would want someone like him but he would be so in awe of the fact that you did want him. 

He knows all too well what it’s like to be at odds with yourself and accepting who you are so he would be very understanding and supportive of that, and he’d comfort you about your insecurities and let you know that you’re more than good enough. 

You’re also very similar in that you prefer to stay indoors, away from all kinds of social activity, and not go out of your comfort zones while, as well as the way you’re both more than willing to help other people in need while disliking asking for help for yourselves.

HARRY POTTER

I ship you with George Weasley!

George is the literal definition of a cinnamon roll. He’s so kind, caring and thoughtful, and I feel like we don’t talk about that nearly enough. 

You’re shy and reserved, and he’s forward and energetic. You struggle to warm up to people, and he has no problem whatsoever getting to know new people. So I feel like it would be a good match. He would kinda just force all his energy onto you so that you, as a result, wouldn’t feel as anxious about meeting someone new, you know?

He could help you let loose a bit more, and I mean that in the most respectful way possible; not because you’re uptight, but more so to help relieve some of that stress and pressure that everything always has to be perfect.

He’s so loud as a person that neither you nor anyone else would even notice your mistakes, like messing up your words, because George and his twin just take the stage wherever they go. 

George loves pushing his limits and discovering new things so I feel like he’d definitely try to get you out of your comfort zones on some occasions, but at the same time, he’s a lot less pushy than his twin and would give up if he noticed that you really didn’t want to do something, whereas Fred probably would’ve just dragged you along by your arm and bugged you until you gave in.

He’d find your shy personality adorable to a start but once you got comfortable enough to show your playful, dirty-minded and goofy side, he would just be amazed and get even more excited around you. 

And knowing him, he’d love both your heterochromia and the gap between your teeth. He would find your eyes the most fascinating thing in the world, and he’s just generally a person who loves “different” and finds it beautiful. 

Being protective over family and loved ones is a plus for any of the Weasleys, seeing as the most precious thing they have is just that; family. So the fact that this is a quality you have would make George even more attracted to you, as would your motherly instincts.

 TWILIGHT

I ship you with Embry Call!

Like Bruce, Embry probably would’ve been a bit intimidated by you on first sight. Not only because of your resting bitch face, but also because he just has no experience with girls, whatsoever. 

After much encouragement from the other boys, however, he probably would’ve been able to work up the courage needed to approach you and most likely, knowing him, he would’ve stumbled over his words and completely messed up, so you’d never have to worry about messing up like that, yourself, because he would just be such a mess that it would be hard to beat. 

Embry is, like you, playful, dirty-minded and goofy when he’s in the right company, but he’s much quieter and shyer than the other boys on the reservation, as well as reserved in general - like you. He’s also a lot more caring and loving than his pack members but, like the rest of them, he’s very protective of family, which is just another thing the two of you share. 

Embry is a wolf so, obviously, he enjoys being outside and participating in fast-paced activities, but I don’t think he’d mind staying inside with you, watching movies, or just listening to music and hanging out. His mom definitely wouldn’t mind, as he’s technically grounded for life for sneaking out every night, which he keeps ignoring much to her dismay. 

He’s just so kind and humble. He’d be so sweet and supportive about your insecurities and never force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, and he’d be all over your cooking, no matter how good or bad you are at it!

 STRANGER THINGS

I ship you with Jonathan Byers!

Jonathan knows everything about being the black sheep. He had to find himself and learn his value completely on his own, so he knows what it’s like to be at war with your own mind in accepting who you are. 

He believes that people should be judged by their ability to work rather than by what gender they are and that women should be respected just as much as men, as seen when he disapproved of how Nancy was being treated by her co-workers, and therefore also shares your feminist ideals. 

He would be the sweetest to you about your insecurities and tell you that it’s okay to be different no matter what and that you’re beautiful and enough just the way you are. 

He’s introverted, asocial and kind just like you, cares very deeply for family and knows what it’s like to have divorced parents. 

He’s very much into music just like you are and is not very fond of small talk nor fighting either, so I feel like you would have a really calm and stable relationship. 

 THE WITCHER

I ship you with Jaskier!

Jaskier is a little like George Weasley in the way that he always steals all the attention whenever he walks into a room. He’s got a very loud personality and for the same reasons I think you’d be good with George, I think you would be good with Jaskier!

Unlike you who prefer staying within your comfort one, Jaskier might care about that a bit too little. Let’s just say that he would never bother you about not being more adventurous, because he’d be far too busy stepping out of his comfort zone and getting into trouble, himself, to notice.

Jaskier is also a big fan of writing, reading and, of course, music, so I think you’d be able to have some really good times together.

 PEAKY BLINDERS

I ship you with Ada Shelby!

Being the only woman as well as the only really sensible member of a family full of gangsters for sure puts a person under the “black sheep”-category, so Ada knows all about feeling out of place. 

She’s the only member of the Shelby family who absolutely hates violence which is one of the main reasons I think you’d suit each other, seeing as you don’t like arguments. Just like you, she will square up if she absolutely has to in order to defend herself, but she’d much prefer not to. 

She’s very level-headed and tries her best to stay well clear of all the illegal activities that her family get up to, instead, putting her focus into activism and trying to improve equality for everyone, as well as trying to embrace the beautiful and sensuous things life has to offer.

She has a natural instinct to take care of those who can’t look after themselves, she’s kind-hearted and humane, accepting and understanding, so she would be very patient with getting to know you and let you take the time you needed. 

Out of all the Peaky Blinders characters, I can almost guarantee you that Ada is your best shot at getting a peaceful and unproblematic life. 

THE WALKING DEAD

I ship you with Daryl Dixon!

Daryl may be brave and good at surviving, but he is, at the same time, constantly facing challenges from his past as an abuse victim. Because of his trauma, he’s very socially awkward and doesn’t really know how to connect with other people, even though he does seem to have the desire to do so. For example, at the beginning of the apocalypse, he often spoke to people without making eye contact and cringed away from physical touch, with little to no social skills, and even though he has definitely gotten better at it, the struggle is still there to some extent.

His childhood trauma is also the reason for his insecurities, of which the biggest one is his scars. He’s ashamed of them and every day he’s reminded of the fact that he, through all his life, has been nothing and no one. He often shows signs that he considers himself to be worthless as well as depressed, and shows clear discomfort and distrust for people he’s not all that familiar with. 

Because of the discomfort of being around people, he prefers to keep his distance from groups, because he functions best when he’s either alone or in the company of just one or two people; preferably the former. So naturally, he’s very quiet, not at all fond of small talk. Even with people he’s comfortable being around, he’d rather sit in a comfortable, mutual silence than speak. 

You have all these things in common; finding it hard trusting and opening up to people, being over-thinkers, disliking small talk, constantly fighting inner battles with yourselves and struggling to accept yourselves, disliking asking people for help, as well as having big social anxieties in general.

But what you also have in common is that you’re very protective of family. Daryl may prefer to keep to himself, but he doesn’t hesitate to risk his life in order to save the members of his group. He’s incredibly selfless and loyal to a fault and would stop at nothing to protect his people as well as help people who can’t protect themselves. 

As a result of his abuse, he also an extreme attentiveness to others. He’s so hypervigilant that not only is he always prepared for zombies, but he can also attentive to the emotions of people. So even though he might struggle with communicating sympathy verbally and through touch, he will go to great lengths to use his special skills to help those in pain, this meaning - you wouldn’t have to communicate your feelings through words every time since he’d most likely pick up on your body language, which can be a really big relief when you’re self-conscious about stumbling over words when nervous and struggle with social anxiety. 

He would just be very understanding of your social issues in general and as he absolutely hates when people try to pry into his life before the apocalypse, he would never put any pressure, whatsoever, on you to open up to him in anything other than your own time. If anyone knows what it’s like to feel out of place, it’s him. 

SUICIDE SQUAD

I ship you with Rick Flag!

It’s no secret that Rick is very serious and short-tempered when in combat and on the job. His personality is usually described as sturdy, stoic and serious and he’s been trained to serve and follow orders without questions. He takes his responsibilities very seriously and gets frustrated when others don’t pay him the same respect.

But away from his job, Rick also has a softer, more vulnerable side and is capable of warming up even to enemies through his ability to see things from different perspectives, as seen when he happily hugs Floyd after defeating Enchantress. He’s deeply protective of those he loves and would go to unthinkable lengths to protect them. 

He isn’t a person who willingly goes out of his comfort zone either; on the contrary, it’s usually something he’s pressured to do by other people who, often, have some kind of leverage on him. 

So had he only been presented with the choice, I think he’d really be into the idea of a simple life with no drama, no danger. Just him, his significant other, living together and going about their ways either separately or together, before having dinner and falling asleep together in front of a good movie or tv show. He’d be more than happy living a life as simple as that. 

Underneath that whole military attitude, he also has a sense of humor hidden away; the goofy and playful one, just like yours. And I think that you would be really good together in that sense. 

GAME OF THRONES

I ship you with Jon Snow!

Jon is known to be humble, calm and withdrawn and would, at least after the events of the last season, much rather live a calm, simple life than one full of adventure and challenged limits since he’s so clearly shown to be burdened by the constant danger and responsibility. 

All his life, Jon has lived as an outcast; a bastard, and the black sheep in a family of wolves. Because of Catelyn’s consistent hatred and torment, he never felt anything other than hatred, self-doubt and shame toward himself and has never felt like he belongs anywhere, with anyone. 

He was forced to quietly wrestle with dejection and loneliness his entire life; always among them, but never really one of them, and because he never quite fit in, he was naturally more susceptible to anti-social behavior, as shown in the way that he always tends to mind his own business, prefers to stay within his comfort zone and also in the way that he isn’t big on small talk.

He was so ashamed of himself and who he was that he pledged himself to the Night’s Watch in order to escape the label of a bastard, so he knows better than anyone what it’s like to try and accept oneself. 

To finish it off, he’s the ultimate feminist, who takes powerful women for what they are and understands the importance of lifting them up. He encouraged Arya and her proclivity for archery and combat and he admitted to his misjudgments and faults without being derisive or sexist when Sansa outsmarted him and saved his ass in the Battle of the Bastards so he doesn’t consider it to be emasculating to be equal, or even inferior, to a woman, and doesn’t pick and choose what kind of woman to support. He supports all of them and their individual strengths, whether it be physical power in combat, or mental power in politics. 

FAST AND FURIOUS

I ship you with Leon!

Little is known about Leon since he was only in the first movie with minimal screentime, but I have, over the years, built my own opinion of him through his way of behaving in the moments we actually got to see him.

My first thought on him was that he’s a bit of the lost loner type and that he’s much more rational and level-headed than the others.

He voices his disapproval to Dom on several occasions and got shut down every time, which showed that he didn’t really trust him to keep them safe and out of handcuffs, and that he wasn’t comfortable with how far they were taking things. 

This, to me, equals that he’s not a person who is very fond of stepping out of his comfort zone and would much rather play it safe and stick to the things he knows.

I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a coward, but he’s definitely more cautious than the rest of the squad. Rather than getting high off the thrill, he just seems like he’s along for the ride, without actually needing the excitement like the others do. Plain and simple: he’s a tag-along:er, not an adrenaline junkie.

In the scenes he’s in, he was always the one to, in one way or another, look out for the well-being of the others, and I can imagine, since he and Jesse met before the two joined the squad, that he looked after Jesse for a long while, as well.

Jesse had pretty severe ADD as well as slightly faulty instincts and understandings in some social settings both because of his ADD and because he was raised by his criminal dad to know no better, so looking out for him would probably take a little bit of work since I’d guess that he got himself into trouble a lot. 

Because of this, I’ve kind of put him in the “caretaker”-category, since he seems to be so much more genuine and caring than the rest, and that, in turn, is why I think he’d be a good match for you. 

I also think that you’d be good together because of the fact Jesse shares a lot of qualities with you; a bit reserved, stuttering when nervous, and being generally anxious around strangers. Since Leon has experience with this, he wouldn’t judge you but rather know how to handle it, support you and make you feel more comfortable. 

His mother left him when he was still young and he has clearly been struggling to find a place where he belongs. He thought that he found it with Dom’s crew, but when Jesse died and Vince and Letty got seriously hurt, he obviously had enough, decided that the heat had become too risky and that he didn’t want anything more to do with the illegal activities. 

Once again, after Jesse’s passing, he was left alone, and I’m one hundred percent sure that he left the crew to go live a safer, calmer life because, like Rick Flag, he just seems like the type to want a quiet life with a like-minded significant other, maybe some animals and/or a kid or two. Basically just a “perfect, happy family”-situation with no risk-taking, just staying safe within your comfort zones. 

Arranged Marriage.

Chapter Twenty-Two. 

Warning: Mentions of sexual assault, miscarriage, obvious trauma, fist fights. (If I missed any, please let me know.) 

Word Count: 3140

The noise that had died down came back to life after the words Doyoung spoke. Things were being knocked down, possibly thrown and all the voices mixed and mingled with each other. All the words they yelled at each other were lost within the space they shared.

I got off my bed and went over to the door, knowing that I needed to go downstairs to stop whatever was happening. Things were only going to get worse if I didn’t stop them now. But standing in front of the open door made everything seem so scary.

The real world was just outside this door and my body wasn’t letting me step out. I was scared of what was to come once I was out in the open. The anxiety was overpowering my senses and it was making it hard to breath. My lungs felt like they were being squeezed together.

Forcing myself to make that extra step, I swallowed the lump in my throat and stepped outside my comfort zone. Outside of my safe space again for anything to happen and tear me apart all over again.

When I was fully outside my room, I stood in the hallway and it felt like I was being called to the room. To the room where everything happened. I looked over in that direction and thankfully the door was closed. Because if it wasn’t, I don’t think I’d make it very far.

The phantom pain I felt in my legs stopped me from running down the stairs like I had wanted too. Every step hurt and every breath made it harder to think or process anything. This was going to be the first time I saw anyone since this happened.

I was going to see Jaehyun’s face again after what he did to me. I was going to see Yuta’s face again after he found out what happened to me. I don’t know how any of them were going to react. I didn’t know how I was going to react either.

By the time I reached the bottom of the steps, I was forcing air into my lungs and trying to steady my heart beat. At this point it felt like it was going to burst inside my chest with how aggressive it was beating. My whole body felt like it was pulsating violently.

Even though I was right outside the living room where everyone was fighting and arguing, I heard nothing. Everything in my ears was painfully quiet and the anxiety was coursing through my veins like heavy waves crashing against the calm sand.

With shaky steps I moved in front of the door way and looked into the mess that was the living room. The coffee table was flipped over with all its belongings on the floor. The vases placed next to the couches were broken. Glass and flowers littered the floor and there were faint stains of red on the carpet.

Yuta was holding back a bloody mouthed Doyoung who was thrashing against him to let go. The skin of his fist was bruised red. His shirt was stained with blood and I’m not too sure who it belonged to.

Sicheng and Taeyong were holding back a bloodied mouth Jaehyun who still carried that cursed smirk on his face. As if he wasn’t even affected by what just happened to him. There was blood staining his shirt too.

Doyoung and Jaehyun were yelling profanities at each other, harsh words I swear I never heard leave my ex-boyfriend’s mouth. The other three were yelling over them to calm the fuck down and to explain why this was even happening.

Yuta and Doyoung’s back were to me so the only ones who saw me were the other three males. Once their eyes landed on me, they stopped yelling and caused the other two to turn around to see what they were looking at.

The room went dead silent and all eyes were on me.

“Nice of you to join us (Y/N).” Jaehyun spoke ripping himself out of the hold he was in. He looked at me like he has many times before and it could have killed me to see that it never changed. Not even after what he did, did the look in his eyes change.

They still carried that forsaken lust and desire for me and if anything, it seemed to have grown more.

“Don’t say her name Jung because I will kill you right here.” Doyoung threatened him, breaking free from Yuta’s hold but not moving away from him yet.

“Can someone explain what the hell is going on?” Sicheng asked to no one in particular. Taeyong stood next to him quietly, avoiding my gaze like he usually did when he knew something that he didn’t want to voice.

And then I realized that maybe, he knew about my past with Yuta too. He was after all, there the same night Jaehyun heard me.

Jaehyun chuckled, “Tell them or I will.” His eyes never left mine and that glued me to the ground. Unable to move or speak, the only thing I could do was take shallow breaths and watch the world fade into blurs behind the water in my eyes.

Yuta didn’t say anything and snapped his head in Doyoung’s direction looking for answers to what he thought was going on. They exchanged silent words and Doyoung confirmed his worst fear when he nodded his head yes.

Someone he considered his friend, his brother not only broke a code between them but a trust so profound. A brotherhood of many years. But worst of all, he hurt what he loved most, me.

Yuta saw red all over again and lunged at Jaehyun full force, knocking him down. He grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, “You put your hands on my fucking wife! And in my fucking house!” His fist connected with Jaehyun’s face repeatedly.

He would have kept going until his face was swollen and unrecognizable but before he could even reach that point, Sicheng and Taeyong pulled him off.

“Let me fucking go! I’m going to kill you Jaehyun!” Yuta was fighting against their holds on him. “You hurt her! You violated her! In her own fucking house!”

Jaehyun simply laughed and got off the floor, wiping away the blood from his mouth. It was a horrid thing to watch, his smile filled with blood and he acted like nothing was wrong. His laugh echoed in my ears again, it didn’t sit well in my stomach.

“Last chance (Y/N). You or me.”

Our eyes met again and the world around me fell apart again for the millionth time. He had no conscience or compassion, he had nothing. He was a soulless body walking around not giving a damn about anything but himself.

I lost my voice to the fear and couldn’t say anything, I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was stand here and watch how he took control away from my life, from the one thing I have had to myself since Yuta lost his memory.

The truth was going to come out and this isn’t how I wanted it to happen. Not like this. I never wanted it to happen in the first place. He was taking that right away from me. Everything I did and went through meant nothing now.

Doyoung moved to stand in front of Jaehyun, who was started taking small steps closer to me. “Stay away from her, don’t even look at her again Jaehyun.” He warned him.  

Jaehyun stopped looking at me and moved his gaze to the person in front of him, “You know too, don’t you Doyoung?” He chuckled throwing his back, as if it was really that funny.

“Seems to me like everyone here knows but him. And I even bet good money that boyfriend of yours knows too, no?” He added, looking past Doyoung and at me again.

Doyoung was covering half his face but I knew that he was smirking, taunting me and everyone who was here. Yuta who seemed to have settled a little got riled up again when he heard the word boyfriend. He started thrashing around in their holds again.

“Actually better yet, why don’t we let Taeyong tell him?”

Everyone went dead silent and Yuta turned back to look at the person holding him. I forced my eyes away from Jaehyun to look at him. Everyone was looking at him and yet he looked at no one but the ground.

“Tell who, what?” Sicheng turned to ask him, fully understanding that there was more to Yuta and me. Something he seemed to have noticed a long time ago too but wasn’t too sure.

Yuta ripped out of their holds but stayed in place looking at Taeyong.

“Tell me what Taeyong?” He asked him, too many emotions in his voice to pick one out. He was feeling emotions he’s never had to feel before, too many new ones that were coming in strong. There was anger and betrayal. He was hurt and confused but most of all, he was heartbroken.

He lost a brother and he carried the hurt Jaehyun caused me very close to his heart. If it wasn’t for him, it would have never happened. If he had stopped this when he had the chance, none of us would be here right now.

Taeyong mumbled words no one could hear, they were too low and too jammed together to hear them well. His head was still down, there was no telling what he was feeling or even thinking.

“You’re dragging this too much.” Jaehyun cut in making everyone look at him again. He moved past Doyoung and continued to walk closer to me. Before I knew it, he was standing in front of me. Looking down at me with a smirk so wide, he seemed like pennywise.

I pleaded with my eyes for him to please not do this, to just leave it be and go. But like always, he didn’t care nor did he listen. He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled my back closer to his front.

My body went stiff and I wanted to do everything to break away from him but I was still frozen in place. The fear was paralyzing that even breathing felt like a struggle. My lungs were being restricted and the air felt so limited, I was starting to get lightheaded.

Doyoung and Yuta got ready to lunge at him again but they came to a complete stop when they stood in front of us. Forcing my arm to raise, I finally spoke, “Stop. Please stop.” I whispered feeling the tears slip down cheeks.

I could feel everything off Jaehyun, his body heat was radiating onto me and his fingers traced patterns on my exposed skin. His soft breaths echoed in my ears reminding me of that day, making them sound like something they weren’t.  

“Tell him princess.” Jaehyun insisted, provoking Yuta by using the nickname he gave me. And just when Yuta took a step closer, Doyoung grabbed his arm and pulled him back, “Don’t do it. She’ll get hurt.” He reminded him.

Jaehyun moved my hair away from my ear and whispered lowly only for me to hear, “Either you tell him right here, right now. Or you give yourself to me again. Your pick.” He threatened digging his fingertips into my shoulder.

While he was speaking, my eyes would switch between Doyoung and Yuta taking in everything that was happening right now. Even if I didn’t tell him now, Yuta would never let this go and our relationship would go back to the nightmare it was before.

I’d be living in constant fear and I would never leave the house, let alone my room. I didn’t want to live like that. But I also didn’t want to tell the truth. But I had to weigh out the consequences of both out comes.

And much like I did with Doyoung and Lucas, I decided that I didn’t want to live with the past as a terrible and horrible reminder of everything that I lost. I needed to heal and move on. And we’re too deep in now for Yuta to not know the truth.

But still, the fear of putting this out remained in my heart because I would have to relive the misery all over again and I wasn’t ready for that. Not with everything that I’ve already been dealing with.

Jaehyun pulled me out of my thoughts when his fingers dug deeper into my shoulder causing it to hurt more, “Now.”

My eyes shifted again and I looked at Yuta, “I… I have… There’s something…” I paused and forced air into my lungs again, more tears spilling down my cheeks.

“Please don’t make me do this, I can’t.” I pleaded being held against Jaehyun still. I wanted to move my arms and break away from him, to run so far away from here but I couldn’t.

The most my body was allowing me to do was to ball up my fist at my sides. There was a light shakiness starting at my legs but it was too faint to really affect me or any part of my body.

“I am going to give you three seconds to let her go and get out of my house before I murder you Jaehyun.” Yuta threatened him, seeing everything in red still. He had enough of whatever mind games were being played.

He wanted to be left alone with me, to comfort each other and talk about everything that happened in this small time frame. And inevitably, the truth will still come out.

Because nothing stays a secret forever.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Jaehyun started taking a step back and pulling me with him. “You’re little wife here hasn’t been all too honest with you. She hasn’t been for a very long time.”

“That’s enough!” Taeyong shouted from inside the living room, making everyone jump from the volume of his voice.

“Let her go now! And get out!” He yelled again walking to where we all stood. Sicheng quietly following behind him. “You’ve done enough Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun chuckled and held me tighter, “Don’t act like you had no part in this. If it weren’t for you, then none of this would have happened.”

“What?” I asked and Taeyong darted his gaze to me before he dropped it and shook his head. “It wasn’t like that (Y/N), I promise. I didn’t think any of whatever this is would have happened.” He answered forcing his gaze away from the floor and bringing it to me.

“What the hell is everyone talking about? What is no one telling me?!” Yuta shouted feeling frustrated beyond his control now. He was irritated and this whole beating around the bush thing everyone was doing in front of him like he wasn’t here wasn’t helping.

“Your little wife here and you were together that summer you got in that accident. Where now you know, you lost your memories of that relationship.” Jaehyun threw the words out in the open like they meant nothing, like they weren’t going to affect anyone.

The world stopped and everyone disappeared when Yuta looked at me. I watched the way his eyes glossed over and the water accumulated on his water line. The way the air left his lungs and his chest deflated with the words, would be engraved into my memories for the rest of my life.

“Oh and while we’re at it, so you know the whole truth. She was also pregnant but miscarried, I’m assuming because of that accident.” Jaehyun added into the already fucked up turmoil. With that, he let me go and pushed me into Yuta’s arm.

Yuta looked at me and said nothing, he did nothing. But stare at me, his eyes burning into my soul. I wanted to look away, I felt like I needed too but I couldn’t.

“Everyone. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Now!” Yuta suddenly yelled holding me at a distance now, his hands burning into the skin of my arms. Even though he was talking to everyone here, his eyes never looked away from mine.

That look in his eyes will always haunt me and chase me in my nightmares. It was a look I’ve never seen before and if I was being honest, it felt scary. There was such intense feelings in them.

He was capable of murder right now.

“Get out! Everyone! Leave!” He yelled again letting me go and shoving everyone towards the door. I wasn’t even sure when Jaehyun left but he wasn’t there when I turned around to see everyone pooling out the door.

“Doyoung, please don’t let Lucas come.” I called out to him from where I stood in the middle of the door way of the living room. The door was slammed closed before I could hear his response.

I watched Yuta walk over to me again, he stood so close I could feel the heat come off his body. He was breathing down on me and bore his eyes into me. I couldn’t bring my gaze to his, it was too strong so I stared at his chest.

My immediate reaction was to want to run away like I always have and hide, to never have to speak about this to anyone. But that wasn’t an option, not this time.

Yuta had the right to know about the past he didn’t know existed. Because it wasn’t about just my feelings or my hurt anymore. It was about his too.

“Yuta, I-”

He put his hand up to silence me and then turned away from me to go up the stairs. But before he could walk to far away from me, I reached out and grabbed his wrist making him stop.

He turned to me and pulled his wrist out of my hold slowly, “What?” His voice broke and he held back the tears that he wanted to shed so desperately.

There were so many words I wanted to say but I couldn’t because none of them would form for me to articulate the way I wanted. So I did the next best thing, I walked closer to him, wrapped my arms around his torso and hugged him.

Yuta hesitated before he wrapped his arms around me too and rested his chin on the top of my head, there was a couple of sniffles before he spoke again.

“I was awake that night.”

In the end, I was trying to protect a secret that everyone already knew. All my efforts and suffering in silence was in vain. Everything I had to endure since the day of that accident, was all in vain.

Masterlist

~~~

He finally knows! This is one of my favorite chapters so I really hope you guys enjoy the shit out of it. 

 Don’t forget I have a chat called, Nct - Arranged Marriage!

It's me again, permaswitch guy.

TW: depression, suicide

The same anon from the last post asked:

Hey, thanks for your reply and for uploading it so fast. I come here to answer your reply and add a little something after.

First of all thank you for your acceptance and kindness, as a tulpamancer but also as a depressed person. Come to think of it it is ridiculous how long we took to reach this point, over 6 times longer than most, but then it’s logic too because of how randomly I forced over time. To lazy or extremely lazy hosts, there is hope. I don’t encourage laziness on anyone of course, but you can still achieve progress if you give it enough time. This may sound counterproductive, but trying so badly can cause a lot of stress and doubts, while giving your brain time to accomodate to a new mindset might be helpful. Ideally hosts should find a balance between forcing and letting the mindset in.

Next let me talk about your proposed alternative solutions. I find it strange that you encourage me to step further into my comfort zone. It’s probably because I haven’t told you anything, but this is already what I’m doing as much as I can and I keep being told this is only making things worse because I have to step out of it to make changes and go anywhere in my life. However in contrast, you think more like me. I’m so much going into my comfort zone that I’m avoiding talking to anyone or leaving home ever. May expand on it later. About groups to fit in: I don’t work well on 1-to-1, leave alone on groups. That’s why I prefer being away of tulpa Discord servers. I always go unnoticed and/or misunderstood. Looking for friends or relationship outside of our system is something I’ve finally given up on, after continuous failures. May expand on it later. Lastly I’ve been to therapists for almost all my life and while this sounds like nonsense, they and medications have never proven to help me personally. I find a simple talk with my tulpa to be much better than years of medication and therapists.

Before I go with the last issue I’d like to say that unlike many would think I have morals too, so yeah, it’s probably a better idea for us to switch than for me to create another tulpa yet for the sake of switching.

Now, I’ve had this issue going on for my entire life and specially since 2020. This is not strictly related to tulpamancy but I think many tulpas will be able to relate to this, unlike most hosts. I, however, am host, and am dealing with this.

Many people like to think of themselves as something else than humans or even feel as if they were also something else. Most notably the furry community, which I’ve been interacting with for years, is full of people who besides humans would like to be a fursona, or even feel more as if they were their fursona than a human. I, however, take this to the next level. I have been both unvoluntarily and voluntarily distancing myself from the concept “human”. It is not something positive to me being one. As such I’ve been suffering of “species dysphoria”, or am trans-species. I bet many many tulpas who have fronted have had this issue if they weren’t made after humans to begin with. However I cannot say the same for hosts. Indeed I’m the only host I know so far who thinks they aren’t human and would rather be some yellow dragon drawn by a furry artist. This issue is easily fixed with a switch. Not saying I’m switching because of this, but it is something nice knowing that I can stop being trapped in a human body and just be myself. Believe me, species dysphoria can get to the same points or even worse than gender dysphoria. Fortunately I never had the latter. So maybe now you understand why I am isolating myself too.

Looking back at my old asks here now I know much more about tulpas than I used to back then. Yeah I’m happy we made progress too, but I wish things would have been different. I wish I could be more consistent and this wouldn’t have took or take nearly as long. Not only for seeing it as a chore, but also because we run out of time to survive. Some pressure to live on. Thanks to my tulpa I’m more hopeful and relaxed, and we’re trying our best to delay another suicide attempt for as long as we can. But we can’t do that forever so ultimately it’ll happen. Thanks to him I also think about it twice since now it’s two of us.

Say, may I ask if you’re religious? What do people tend to think on tulpa afterlife? It’s not a topic you hear much about in the community.

Oh I almost forgot. I want to get rid of this life, the human life, 100%. This means after switch I don’t care what happens on this side. Giving the fronter full permission to do as wanted, as opposed to other cases where the original host wanted to leave but also still cared about their human body’s life, bringing unnecessary worry and ultimately a regret of permanent switch. I think this is something important. I always think of this life as a burden that was put on me, and have been despising it since 2008. As such, I see my parents in the same eyes as you would see a tulpamancer who creates a tulpa solely to have them switch. Totally unacceptable behaviours. Of course, I understand a child can never choose to be born or not, while a tulpa can choose whether to switch or not. But my parents could have refrained from having a son in the first place, specially if they were going to be neglectful parents. This world is one unjust place.

My reply:

Don't worry about how long it took to get there. Some people barely force at all and have a talking tulpa in a day or two. Others work at it for years before hearing a peep. Laziness happens too and definitely contributes. Stress, doubts, laziness and working too hard at it can all produce slower progress. And depression contributes to all of the above as well.

As a depressed and socially awkward person, I have to say I can relate to the urge not to go out or talk to people. The current situation in 2020 has not helped either. Like you, I didn't get a whole lot out of meds or talk therapy. Tulpa stuff does help a great deal, but I keep falling off it and back into the awful depression.

I do think that full isolation isn't healthy. However, as far as I can tell, this doesn't seem to apply as much to tulpas if the host/whoever is fronting interacts with people some. Whether the tulpas are fully active and thinking or just snoozing in the background, they seem to benefit from the interaction the same way the host/fronter does. Or at least that's our experience. I don't know whether it works like that because they're in the background experiencing it to some degree, or if it affects something that's shared between all of us; my tulpas seem to think it's a combination of the two.

If the tulpa you already made is able and willing to try switching, give it a shot. I don't know how many other tulpa systems this applies to, but I think there's a special bond between the original host and their first tulpa: You discovered all the stuff you know about tulpamancy together, encountered and overcame the obstacles together, and discovered a lot about your minds together. If he's unable, doesn't want to, or tries it and decides it's not for him, you could (together!) try making another. But be sure to value them as a person and friend first and foremost, and emphasize that the switching thing is entirely optional.

I actually know more than one person who, for one reason or another, wishes that they would wake up in a world where they're a dragon, pony, canine, etc. The species dysphoria is certainly tied in with depression one way or another though I'm not sure which starts first. I can see why you won't care to interact with humans if you don't identify with or relate to them.

I am not religious. If there is an afterlife though, I would certainly want to be together with my tulpas in it. I haven't seen a lot of discussion on it, particularly since I've really just been involved with Tulpa.info which takes a secular, scientific viewpoint.

I'm curious. What would you like to do after switching? Be basically like a tulpa, doing your own thing in your wonderland and interacting with the new fronter when he has time?

Since you mention suicide, I feel obligated to mention the crisis text line. Text HOME to 741741 (US), 85258 (UK) or 686868 (Canada) to start a chat with an understanding person who can help you through your moment of crisis. I know people who have used it and they had positive experiences. Or there's 1-800-273-8255 (US) if you'd rather talk. Or a list of similar services in more countries than I can count.

Why? ~ F.W. (Part 11)

A/n: I MISSED THIS SERIES!! And writing in general? I've been having rough times and a half (you know, the usual). Also, I'm writing a full fledged fanfic that I've got one part out on... but already has become my biggest tag list I've had on a story yet. Ahhhhh the magic of Reddie... Between that and stuff I'm running on tiktok (I'm a cosplayer), work and trying to get my shit in order, I just haven't had the emotional capability of writing. But here is my peace offering- The next part of a series that has no demand but one I enjoy writing! Lol I'm so sorry. PLease enjoy...

P.S. The author's note felt too long, so I made a second note section oof big sorry. I just wanted to say that if I have come up with a name for the Orphanage Headmisress in the past, I'm sorry because I'm changing it. Yeah okay xx

Word Count: 4000+

MASTERLIST

The moment I saw her face, my heart stopped. Well, it stopped beating. To make up for the stillness, it proceeded to shoot into my throat and cut off any and all functions. No air or words came out, and with this blockage came an inner chaos. No thoughts. No movement. I stopped dead and just stared at her with true fear. From the abrupt change, you'd think I was staring down a Dementor. But, in that moment, I realized that I'd actually rather be staring down a nightmare demon about to suck my soul out and leave me in a state worse than dead than to be watching the Headmistress of the Orphanage approach me.

Cedric, next to me, placed a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay, Liv?" His face was screwed up in gentle confusion and concern. I wanted to answer, but I couldn't. My brain was reeling and I managed to shake my head no for far too long... She was in front of us.

"Ylva." It seemed she had given some attempt at a warm greeting for the benefit of the strangers next to me, but had failed miserably. She was too cold and full of hate- all of it towards me.

"Ms. Ravana." The name sounded almost like an exclamation of horror, if it wasn't so quiet and soft. She seemed to almost smile. My fear fueled her. It had been a long time since I hadn't been desensitized to her.

Cedric's hand moved to my other shoulder, his arm resting on my shoulders and pulling me into his side. He pulled me a little behind him, like he was trying to both hide me and comfort me at the same time. "And you would be?" His tone was polite but his expression was hard.

The Headmistress turned her onyx eyes on the young Hufflepuff. Seeing him next to the very old Headmistress made him seem even younger. She was tall and girthy and for a moment it seemed like if she blew a breath it would knock Cedric over. He seemed so small... like a child.

Despite my sudden fear for the boy who had become the older brother I'd always needed, I found that I was trying to hide myself as well. I really was a coward.

"I'm Headmistress Ravana. I'm here to collect Ylva."

"For what?" This time it was Amos who spoke.

Headmistress looked bored. "She is part of my orphanage. Her school has ended. She has been off at other places, but it's time she came home. We..." Despite my cowering and Cedric's attempt to cover me, her eyes still found mine. I shivered. Cedric's hold on me tightened even more. "Missed her," Headmistress finally finished.

"I don't think-" Cedric began.

"I don't really care what you do or don't think." Her tone had sharpened. "Legally, she belongs to me, and therefore what I say goes. I have let her escape to strangers' houses, but she will be returning to me now." Her thin pretenses were gone. She had lost her patience. She held her hand out to me, palm up. Cedric went to push me further away from her but his father stopped him, placing his hand on Cedric's shoulders as the Hufflepuff had done for me moments before. Like father like son I suppose. What had I picked up from my father? Were these genetic things or learned? At the end of the day, was I more like Sirius Black, my mother... or Headmistress?

Headmistress flexed her fingers, hurrying me to come along. I swallowed before prying my stiff fingers off of Cedric jumper before awkwardly moving to her. My body was still locked so the movement was hard. "Thank you," I managed through a clogged throat. "For offering me a place to stay, before I was recalled." By the way Cedric and Amos were looking at me, I knew they could see through my weak attempts with ease. Amos looked helpless. Cedric looked down right nauseated. "I wold ask that you please let the others know I will not be visiting later in the Summer as originally planned."

Headmistress gripped the back of my neck. So different from the gentle, protective, even guiding shoulder touch. Worlds apart even from the way Cedric's arms had rested on my shoulders protectively. She was putting a control on me. A silent threat. An unspoken statement of dominance. Ownership. Like putting a collar on a dog. "Come now." I did as she said.

I was not permitted to write letters over the Summer. Whether by some genius insight or by accident, in the heat of the tense interaction, Cedric, Amos and I had all forgotten that my things were in the cart Amos had offered to push for me, so I didn't take it back to the orphanage with me. They didn't send any of it either, which I appreciated. I saw Shadow out the window one night when I couldn't sleep, perched on my window sill expectantly. I turned away and ignored the letter in his claws. I couldn't chance Headmistress finding a letter in my room- no matter how much I wanted to read it, or how much I was dying to talk to someone outside of the Orphanage.

It wasn't any different than it had been all my life before Hogwarts. If anything, it might have been a little worse. Headmistress gave me even more work, and was even more harsh when I didn't obey. By the end of the Summer, I was in very bad shape. I was wearing the same clothes I'd worn when Headmistress had pulled me away from Amos and Cedric. I'd cleaned them of course, but hadn't worn them since that night. Clothes like that weren't to be tainted by the horrors of the Hell on Earth I'd been trapped in over Summer.

I was a little zoned out heading to the station. Headmistress had walked me all the way in, her hand clasped on the back of my neck, forcing me forward me instead of letting me simply walk next to her. I'd told her where my stuff was, so we walked unburdened by my belongings. She even took me through the barrier, even though she'd never gone near it without nearly spitting venom. Her expression grew tight, but otherwise she didn't recognize the transition from the busy muggle station to Platform 9 3/4.

"Ylva." I flinched at the sound of her voice. "Will you be returning home next Summer?"

"If you so wish, Headmistress."

Her lips curled in a cruel smile. It was the only smile she ever wore. The moment was interrupted by someone yelling a nickname that had belonged to me what seemed in another life. I looked over to see Fred Weasley, Harry Potter, and Cedric Diggory trying to stay their relief and excitement upon seeing me. I pulled my sleeves further down my arms. Harry frowned, not missing the action. Fred seemed to be buzzing, his eyes trained on me. I did not meet his gaze. Cedric held him back, his hand drifting next to Fred's arm. "Who are these?" Mistress asked.

"This is Cedric Diggory, Fred Weasley, and Harry Potter. I go to school with them." All three boys grew odd expressions at the sound of my dull voice.

Headmistress rolled her eyes. "Obviously." She looked at the three of them. All three boys glowered at her, not even Fred distracted enough by me or Cedric able to stay cordial enough to play off their boiling hatred. It was very obvious what the relationship between me and Headmistress was if one paid any amount of attention, and these three boys were perhaps the ones who did so the most. "What are you lads doing here?"

"We've come to greet Liv." It seemed an unspoken rule to let Cedric speak. It was a good call. No way the other two could have controlled themselves.

Headmistress almost laughed. "What are handsome boys like you wasting your time doing with this?"

"Headmistress." The boys had flared so I had to step up. "I must go to my car, and collect my luggage. May I go? I don't have long." I didn't meet her eyes, keeping them lowered o her hands in a pose of submission. Her hand loosened and dropped from my neck. My shoulders sagged in relief without my permission. This time Harry wasn't the only one who picked up on it. Cedric's eyebrows pulled even more deeply together. I did a small bow towards Headmistress then turned to Cedric, my eyes on his chest. "My Luggage, Mr. Diggory?"

His lips tightened. "They're already on the train, in our car." His tone was dark.

Hermione turned the corner, eyes locking first on the boys and then instantly sliding to me. We made eye contact and she gasped, her knuckles whitening on the pole she was holding to keep herself stable as she turned. I panicked. Had she seen it? Had the boys? "Thank you. I will be boarding then?" I looked at Headmistress. She struggled then nodded, motioning me lazily. I slowly walked on board, the guys pushing ahead eagerly. I kept it together until they guided me to where we were to sit. Hermione wasn't the only one who joined us. Lee Jordan, all the other Weasleys, and Luna Lovegood were all there. Some inside, some hovering in the hallway. I could sense their unspoken questions. Their worries. I could't handle it. I sat, squishing against the window and finding Headmistress in the crowd to distract myself.

My chest was tight and I fought to keep my eyes tear free. Someone sat next to me. I felt tentative fingers grazing my knuckles and my eyebrows pushed together as I stiffly curled away. "Hey Love." It was Fred. Despite my attempt to keep my guard up, I felt myself relaxing. He tried again and this time I didn't move away. He interlaced our fingers slowly and the train started moving and I melted into my seat.

Instantly I was shaking.

As if sensing my need, Harry stood up. "Okay everyone out, come on. We can talk and reunite sweetly later. There's not enough seats." He managed to leave only Ron, Hermione, him, Fred, and Cedric. Luna drifted over to give me a kiss on the forehead before she left and I had to admit I was grateful. Her kindness made me feel a little better.

"Liv?" A tear fell down my cheek. It was Hermione. "I know you don't want to talk, but... can I take you to Madame Pompfrey when we get the chance?"

"Madame-?" Ron cut off. Not because of anyone else, but because Hermione's words had sunk in. I hid my face even more.

"Sure." I'd been trying to keep my hair mostly in my face. Keep it angled. It wasn't too bad anymore, and to give the guys credit, they'd been more focused on Headmistress and her hands and my voice than my face.

Fred cleared his throat next to me. "Liv, may I see it?"

I debated. He would eventually, and it would be better if he was prepared. If his imagination was lessened. And he'd be looking for it from here on. "Promise you won't be mad?"

"I would never be mad at you for something like that."

After a second, I looked over, swallowing my anxiety before raising my free hand to push my hair behind my ear.  Ron squeaked. Harry's face drained of blood. Cedric's knuckles curled so tightly his skin matched Harry's. Hermione covered her mouth. The bruise she'd meant was small, resting along the curve of my cheek bone and leaking a little over the edge of my eye. The bruises they were all reacting so strongly to now, more likely, were the ones on the back of my neck and shoulders. My hair covered them well and it was impossible she'd seen them before, but if I was going to show them I might as well get it all out now.

Harry moved across from me, reaching out and touching the one on my face. His expression was tight. Familiar though. The look I got on my face when other kids showed up with marks I'd had before. A look of regret and pain. A look that screamed he'd been exactly where I was and he hated that I was there now too.

"Have I upset you?"

He shook his head. "You didn't do anything." He cleared his throat, donning a shaky, watery smile. "Echo's missed you. Do you want to see her?"

That actually got me excited. "Please." He disappeared for a few minutes, coming back with Echo in his arms. I was eager to hold her, reaching out. Fred smiled, letting me drop his hand in favor of holding my cat. Echo was happy to see me. I thought she'd be mad for having been left behind so long, ignored by me. "Where has she been?"

"We took care of her for a while," Cedric answered. "Fred came over at one point and offered to take her off of our hands."

I smiled at him. "Thank you."

"Of course." He smiled back.

"She's a good cat," Ron piped up. "Very friendly."

Hermione leaned forward. "She and Crookshanks got on quite well." She laughed lightly. Her eyebrows and I groaned, unable to resist a smile of my own. She giggled.

"Have you been enjoying yourself without me there to distract you?" I asked Echo. She nuzzled into my lap, purring. "Don't pretend to have missed me."

Fred leaned over and kissed me briefly on the shoulder. I looked over at him. "Well, I definitely missed you."

I couldn't help it. I smiled and my heart somehow healed a little, finally surrounded by people who care about me and a life I'd been bleeding out missing. That Summer was finally over, and I was one Summer closer to never having to experience one ever again. I'd made it this long. I could keep going even longer, and now with friends like this on my side, I'd do it with ease.

My walls came crashing down and with those, my self control. I started crying, raising my hands to cover my face. "I- I'm sorry-" I was gasping, trying to calm myself and completely failing.

"No," Fred eased, pulling me against his chest. Echo jumped to the floor, jumping up next to Cedric and curling up against his leg as I twisted and buried myself in Fred. "It's okay love. You don't have to apologize. Did I upset you?"

Shaking my head desperately, I tried to explain. "Hap-happy tears."

"Okay. I'm glad you're happy. Just know, she can't get you where we're going. You're safe."

Heavenly words. I was safe. At first I thought the others had left to give us privacy, it was so quiet. But then I looked over and they were all still there and I waved and we all laughed shaky laughs of relief. Ron's eyes got watery too, but he refused to admit it.

Maybe things really would be better from here on. Headmistress and orphanage be damned.

-

"The Triwizard Tournament?" I tilted my head. "Isn't that the super dangerous one that only seventh years are allowed to take part in because it's like deadly and stuff?"

Cedric nodded eagerly, like we were talking about going out for ice cream. "I put my name in the Goblet." He saw my face and rushed to reassure me. "It's a low chance I'll get picked, and even then, I doubt anything too crazy will happen. Dumbledor locked down on safety measures."

I sighed. "Okay whatever. I'm assuming you'll want my help with trials and stuff?"

He nodded. "Occasionally. The fun part of having puzzles is solving them. But I'll come to you if I get really stumped. I'll be safe, promise."

"Fine." As we hit the hallway our paths split, I slid out from under his arm. All of my friends had been super diligent to be on my beck and call, even if I hadn't said anything. Especially then, actually. They were doing their best to cheer me up and make me feel at home and safe. This year people were laying off about their usual bullshit. I'd been friends with Harry Potter and other associates long enough that still picking at me for that was just ridiculous. Even me and Fred were old news. With the bustle of the Triwizard Tournament, people had forgotten about the chaos of last year with my dad so that wasn't a thing anymore either. So, their efforts were needed even less than usual. I appreciated it though. I could see that they cared and were trying, and it was sweet.

I waved and he waved back and I headed to the first class of this year.

Classes were pretty chill. I was enjoying them mildly, half interested ad half annoyed (thanks Snape) - nothing new. I had a friend in every class. If not a Gryffindor, there was always Luna. In the few classes the Slytherins had with the Hufflepuff's, I'd sit next to Sam. He was eager to talk to me and though Beth wanted to sit with him, they didn't seem to be having fun when they did so.

Something was off about Beth recently.

All that went out of my mind when I got to Defense Against the Dark Arts, though. This wasn't a chill class. This class wasn't one I knew what to expect going into it. Slytherins were with Gryffindors, but we had tables of three in this class so Neville, Sam and I sat together, Harry, Ron, and Hermione in front of us. Sam and I had motioned Beth over but she'd frowned, shaking her head, when she saw how close to the Gryffindors we were. Draco Malfoy shot me a nasty look but I'd long since learned to ignore those.

First of all, Sam and Neville actually hit it off immediately. It was an instant good vibe and I was actually excited for class.

Second, our teacher was... psychotic?

The Three Unforgivable Curses, right out of the gates. That's what our first lesson was on. He used an insect of sorts to demonstrate and explain the first, which was kind of funny and kind of odd and kind of depressing. Things took a whole new turn when Professor Moody brought up the Crutiartus curse. I had not know about Neville's parents until that day.

Moody put the spider on the table, right in front of Neville. He raised his wand. He uttered a spell. The spider's screaming was piercing. Neville coiled away from it, trying to keep his eyes on the thing but completely unable. I reached over, slipping my hand in his. He gripped it hard. He was shaking. I was going to speak up when Hermione did it for me.

"STOP IT! It's obviously bothering him, stop it!"

Moody stopped. The spider relaxed. Reflexively I reached out to it with my free hand and the Professor shot me a look. A look that stopped me cold. A look that I had only ever seen from one other person: Headmistress. I tried to remember how to breathe.

He looked away, offering his palm. The spider walked into it. Moody took it to Hermione's desk, setting it down in front of her. She looked terrified. "And what, Miss Granger, is the third and final Unforgivable Curse?" For once, Hermione was speechless. Her face was twisted, as if waiting for him to slap her. Moody raised his wand and I shot to my feet without even thinking the thought as he clearly casted, "Avada Kadavra."

The spider lay still.

Hermione looked sick to her stomach, or about ready to cry maybe. No one made a noise. Harry and I looked at each other and I sat quietly, eyes lowering to my desk. Not even Draco Malfoy could muster the balls to laugh at my making a fool of myself amidst the sudden death of the spider that shouldn't have meant anything to any of us. Except that it had died right before our eyes. Instantly.

"Only one person has ever survived the Death Curse. ANd he's in this room." Moody found Harry in the room and my hair stood on end. The way he looked at him...

When class ended, I was relieved. My first few classes, I'd been kind of bummed. They weren't as exciting and interesting as Defense Against the Dark Arts had been when Lupin was teaching. I'd wished-

I'd wished for a more interesting class than the other ones I'd seen so far.

Be careful what you wish for I guess.

"So," Sam attempted. He barely managed a smooth voice. "Moody, huh?"

"No joke."

Neither of us smiled. I cleared my throat. "Did you get a... weird vibe from him?"

He rose his eyebrows. "Were we in the same class? He didn't have one not weird vibe."

"Well yeah but I mean-" I struggled to find a word. "Dangerous." I looked at him and he looked back, his eyebrows knit in worry. "The way he looked at me when I went to touch the spider. The way he looked at Harry. It felt dangerous, Sam."

My look was so intense, he shuddered. "I believe that you were afraid of him, and I don't blame you," he said slowly."But Dumbledore hired him, and the old man would never put someone in Hogwarts that was dangerous."

But that wasn't true. "Quirrel." Sam opened his mouth, but no words came out. "Lockheart. Both who almost killed Harry, and would have easily done as much to any student."

Sam tilted his head back and forth, having to agree. "Yeah but those were accidents. He didn't mean to hire psychopaths."

"And yet he keeps doing it."

Sam frowned. "You have a point. The first two might have been a mistake, but he actually hired a werewolf."

I tensed. "Lupin was a fantastic teacher, and the only reason anyone was in danger is because of other circumstances that weren't Lupin's fault. He was only out there to protect-"

"Geez," Sam interrupted. "You don't have to defend him to me. "I know he's like a dad to you, I didn't mean that. I just meant it was dangerous, and Dumbledore did it with full knowledge. If he could do that, and with his track record- what I mean is, I see your point." He frowned upon seeing my gloomy expression. "Hey, I'm sorry."

Shaking my head to clear thoughts I didn't need right now, I smiled softly. "I know. It's fine. You have a point."

"You know, he is an old man. Maybe he's going senile."

That one got a real smile out of me. "There was the whole instance with the three headed dog."

"The WHAT?"

Trying not to laugh at his expression, I said, "A story I'll have to tell you some time." Harry's adventures always got around via word of mouth, but some details still remained unshared. Like Fluffy. "Maybe he's losing his touch."

Sam was suddenly very serious. "I hope not. He's supposed to be the strongest wizard ever. Unbreakable. He's the reason my parents sent me to Hogwarts. They might not approve of his all inclusiveness, but they can appreciate a man with skill and power."

Dumbledore losing his touch was a scarier thought that I wanted to admit. I didn't know the guy personally, but the idea of him being a bad guy, or just an idiot, made me feel exposed. I pulled my robes closer around me. "Moody is fine," I finalized. "Dumbledore isn't losing his touch. Moody'll be gone by the end of the year like the others anyway, so no stress off our backs."

"Agreed." Sam nodded, looping our arms and changing the subject on the rest of the way to class. He joked and teased and had me laughing in no time. I forgot about the scary looks and the anxiety about Dumbledore easily. There was nothing to worry about. I was just imaging things after my Summer at the orphanage, and my mental health didn't need me creating ghosts during my one year that seemed to be going my way. Worries and shadows and nightmares could wait for nighttime.

-

Tag List: @reddie-steddie-go

Fanon vs. Canon Shigaraki

Belatedly:

This post gained a lot more traction than expected, so quick edit: the “canon” discussed below is only my personal interpretation of canon, and this post is definitely not intended to be a guide for characterizing Shigaraki in every fanfic! Please don’t use this meta to criticize anyone else’s writing, as that was not my intention. Everyone should feel free to create what they enjoy! 

Look y’all, I ain’t one to judge, but I love canon-based fics and sometimes the massive gap between Shigaraki in fanon and Shigaraki in BNHA’s canon just has me going whaaa???

I mean, like...

Fanon Shigaraki: Abhors all human contact. Lurks in his bedroom 24/7. Never speaks to others except to bitch them out. A vampire who will combust upon setting foot outside his lair.

Canon Shigaraki: Seen alone in his bedroom a grand total of one (1) time in the series; the only other time his room is shown, the rest of the entire League is squeezed in there too. Never out of contact with his followers except Dabi who is the real antisocial bitch here. Longest he’s ever been drawn spending time by himself without another major character to keep him company? Two pages. Gets mad... GOES TO THE MALL.

Fanon Shigaraki: Vocabulary consists of 80% “I’ll kill you” and 20% “Fuck off.” 1000% RAGE ALL DAY ERRYDAY. Has no concept of a good mood. Wouldn’t know how to smile if he tried. Either one step from a temper tantrum or one step from murder, there is NO IN BETWEEN BUT THERE IS FREQUENT OVERLAP.

Canon Shigaraki: Demonstrates the development of remarkable restraint, even when Bakugou damages precious “Father”...

Constantly comments on other people’s bad manners all right, this one might be a little hypocritical, but at least we know he knows what proper manners are... Is referred to on multiple occasions as being pleased with the League members’ work, implying they’ve seen him actively happy... Compliments people (even heroes) when they impress him... The second most likely villain to say “Thanks” (behind only Toga)...

Master of both the goofy grin:

And the soft smile:

Fanon Shigaraki: Can’t insult his comrades often enough. Say something nice about another human being? Hard pass. Friends? Quote: “I would rather die.” Only suffers the League because he’s forced to have allies to defeat the heroes; zero emotional attachment to his comrades unless he’s written as sleeping with Dabi and even then half the time this is still true. Would not give a fuck if half of them died except for how it would inconvenience him.

Canon Shigaraki: Is he still manipulating the League members to use their strength to further his own agenda? Oh for sure. BUT AT LEAST HE’S DOING IT POLITELY.

Since the formation of the core “League,” he frequently talks positively about his comrades, even when they’re not around to hear it:

Knows his allies well enough that he can send them out without instructions and still trust that they will act in exactly the League’s best interests:

Expresses concern for the other members’ well-being:

And has zero hesitation about throwing himself into potentially deadly situations to protect the rest of the League:

Fanon Shigaraki: An innocent, traumatized angel who had no choice but to become evil; he definitely wouldn’t be this way if he knew better! Sometimes written as a weakling who needs to be defended from anyone, everyone, the world, and especially All For One. Feeble waif, constantly on the edge of wasting away. Might cry himself to sleep at night. Never Been Touched/Don’t-Touch-Me-I-am-the-NIGHT™.

Canon Shigaraki: Craves violence like candy...

Close combat quirk means he’s always up in other people’s business... Personal space bubbles are for the weak.

Easily capable of controlling the bickering and assuaging the concerns of his team members...

An unmitigated badass who carries on whole conversations while bleeding out from bullet wounds to every limb...

And jumps from speeding vehicles without a moment’s pause. There was literally no reason for him to be on the roof of the truck EXCEPT for it looking badass. This boy is just Extra AF and I won’t hear any arguments to the contrary.

EDIT to add one more because this is also bugging me:

Fanon Shigaraki: Absolutely the worst at adapting to new scenarios. Violently rejects any form of change. Has a comfort zone the size of a wasabi pea and only ever comes out of that comfort zone kicking and screaming, dragged by another major character. Every ounce of character growth will take twelve chapters and a dramatic mental breakdown to overcome.

Canon Shigaraki: (Deliberately) Tied with Midoriya for being the most adaptive character in the series.

Never tries the same strategy twice...

Learns from, consumes, and grows by flexibly incorporating the plans and attitudes of other villains...

Actively and intentionally changes entire facets of his own behavior to further his agenda...

And to motivate his allies... From:

To:

What MAKES Shigaraki so terrifying and effective as a villain is that he is so flexible and capable of change. He demonstrates the ability to admit and learn from his mistakes, to build new plans on the fly, to gain deeper understanding of how other people work (and can be manipulated) and to quickly and easily put everything he learns into action to forward his goals. He’s fascinating in his ability to simply pick up or discard new attitudes to suit his own ends, and his actions continuously call into question what aspects of Shigaraki’s personality/behavior are genuine and which are merely a construct he’s built up deliberately to further his own and All For One’s dreams.

Shigaraki Tomura is incredible at adapting to challenges, can blend in exactly when, where, and as much as he needs to, and is significantly more open to change than virtually any other villain we’ve seen so far in the series.

But I feel like it’s rare to see this side of him in fandom portrayals?

Sure, Shigaraki is still violent, unhinged, quick-tempered, and definitely keeping things secret from the rest of the League to use them to his benefit... But uhhhh...

He’s also become a ferocious defender to his men. His actively antisocial behavior (always exaggerated) has become increasingly reduced in the story--Tomura is virtually always seen in the company of others (contrast Twice and Spinner, who we’re deliberately shown spending time alone, and Dabi, who appears to frequently work without the rest of the League). Shigaraki exhibits a reasonable gamut of emotions, including many of which are not “Go die,” and he shows a positive and grateful attitude towards his comrades (might be fake, but still at least he’s bothering to fake it, unlike Chisaki). He’s also been shown to be a great actor, both in serious scenes and in silly ones, such as his doofy reaction to Uraraka...

In terms of leadership, Tomura has advanced to the point that he’s the one promoting group solidarity, allows and wants others to think of the League as close-knit, and knows his comrades well enough to rely on them in meaningful situations. We’re led to believe he was earnest in his attempts to recruit Bakugou, that Toga has seen him happy on at least a few occasions, and that he’s okay with bringing the rest of the League into what likely qualifies as his home (something none of the other League members have ever done, at least that we’ve seen).

Furthermore, every confrontation he’s been in in the manga can only lead readers to the conclusion that Shigaraki is an absolute beast on the battlefield, easily the League’s strongest and most dangerous player, and more likely to be protecting the other League members than being protected...

So like, I ain’t out here about to criticize anyone else’s portrayals of Shigaraki in their own works, and this isn’t intended to be a guide on how to write or not write Shigaraki in fics, but I do find myself wishing his characterization in fanworks showed the same evolution as his character in the actual story.

Why write level 1 Tomura behavior when my boy is out here grinding his way to 99???

Send me your Shigaraki fic recs fam, I’m dying...

► reply.

date(s): 6 september - 23 september 2020 mentions of: charm (very brief but i thought it was fun to mention), @fmdsamsoo​ word count: +/- 1850 (minus lyrics) warnings: jaewon being gay tw details: fmdos2, the creative process behind reply, basically jaewon is really fucking gay, that’s the solo. i could’ve split this up into two solo’s probably but i like to have the whole creative process in one place plus i need to write about his performance still anyway. 

a part of jaewon still had a hard time puzzling together that somehow, someway he had actually managed to secure the first place last round. it was nice of course, alarm was an incredibly personal song to him and he didn’t know how his already brittle self-esteem would’ve taken the blow had he ended up in the bottom ranks but as nice as it was, it was still unexpected.

there was, however, no time to perfectly puzzle out how exactly he felt about the result, the bliss short-lived as he found himself back in the studio’s of dimensions entertainment mere days after, ready to do the whole circus all over again only this time with a much, much harder mission. colors were a vague concept to write a song around after all and a part of jaewon felt back in high school all over again, the familiar anxiety of receiving a very unspecific task that somehow had to fulfill the criteria set that were completely unknown to him. he didn’t like that gnawing in the back of his mind, having to second guess if maybe, he was interpreting this in a way that wasn’t expected of him.

if anything, jaewon felt lucky that he didn’t have to tackle the task alone (even if it still felt a bit like cheating) finding himself back in the studio with the same producer from before. jaewon kind of felt for the man, seemingly assigned to deal with him for however long his run on the show was gonna be.

“look who we have there, if it isn’t our big winner.” the producer greeted him enthusiastically and jaewon received the compliment with a hint of a blush and a quick bow of his head. “ah, thank you, but please the credit is just as much yours as it’s mine hyung, i couldn’t have pulled it off without your help.”

the man just shook his head. “always with the humility, enjoy a nice thing for once buddy, you’ve earned it.” he turned to the computer in front of him. “unfortunately, i don’t think we have much more time for pleasantries and celebrations, we’re short on time as always so what are you looking for?”

and that was the million dollar question wasn’t it. what was jaewon looking for? the color white, apparently. and someone in direct contrast with his last song. those two together meant something far out of his comfort zone. but truly, that wasn’t as telling as one would assume it was. truth be told, jaewon’s comfort zone was very small (both in terms of music and well… in general). most things were outside of his comfort zone.

“okay… so… remember what we did last time?” jaewon asked, more rethorical than anything yet still waiting for the producer to confirm with a nod. “forget all of that, we’re completely abandoning that. i need a complete 180.”

the look the producer shot him was one of mild despair and mentally, jaewon noted that after all of this was over, he owed the man much, much more than just a meal to thank him for all his efforts.

“i need something that doesn’t sound like anything i’ve ever done before. not by myself, not with my collaborations, not with unity, not even with champion. something people would never associate with me.” he elaborated further and the more he spoke, the more the other man seemed to form an idea.

“okay, that i can do. but tell me jaewon, do you think you can wave the brooding angsty vibe goodbye for one song?” it would’ve felt like a dig if well… the question wasn’t so valid. jaewon’s whole image was created around being dark and mysterious with a bit of a sexier push from dimensions. he could show up with a song completely different from that, but could he pull it off?

“yeah, yeah i can.”

when jaewon left the studio, it was with an instrumental filled with light-hearted, bouncing piano chords woven together with a deeper drum sound. he could work with this, he could make this work.

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with kick it promotions wrapped up and little schedules outside of that, jaewon has plenty of time to withdraw himself in either one of the many studios of dimensions entertainment or the one back in his and soo’s apartment (the perks of both being involved in making music, a home studio was a must).

unlike for alarm, where jaewon had just forced himself to stare at an empty document until some semblance of an idea, this time the process was more guided. there was a lot of mood setting, browsing visuals of… white things. because that was the theme had to run with after all right, whatever that was supposed to mean. but also going through music, listening to songs much softer than what he was used to.

first just unity’s music, songs on their softer side. like touch for example, or 0 mile, but also a large chunk of their unity zone album (pandora’s box, daydream, love me now). none of them had the same playful edge the instrumental had, all on the softer side rather than the cute side but it was a step in the right direction. especially for jaewon who had always gravitated to the grittier, more experimental, noise-heavier sound of unity’s music. it was good to remind himself he’d done lighter before, that he could again.

it wasn’t just unity’s music though. jaewon doubted he’d ever listen to as much charm music as he did for writing this song.

so the first few studio days were spent spitting through reference material, both audio and visual, the most jaewon actually wrote a list of vague ideas, feelings, directions he could take the song in without, you know, actually writing lyrics.

the actual concept for reply came, funnily enough, completely by accident.

it’d been the fourth consecutive day jaewon had locked himself away in a recording studio in the company’s headquarters. it hadn’t been the plan to be away from home so much but he was on the verge of a breakthrough, he could feel it, all he did was try a little harder.

and still most of the day passed without much progress.

fine then, a small break was probably in place with how it had started bleeding into the evening already and jaewon retrieved his phone from wherever he had discarded it, not having looked at it for hours as he had been too busy with the creative process (even if, truly, he hadn’t achieved much).

unlocking his phone, he was immediately met with a row of text notifications, all from samsoo.

[ 09:16 incomming message : my universe ] i saw you already left, what time will you be home? [ 14:48 incomming message : my universe ] i’m going to get groceries, is there anything you need? [ 16:04 incomming message : my universe ] don’t overwork yourself jagiya [ 18:35 incomming message : my universe ] i’m assuming you won’t be home for dinner, there are leftovers in the fridge [ 19:22 incomming message : my universe ] just let me know what time you get home yeah? [ 19:59 incomming message : my universe ] jagiya?

of course, jaewon felt bad for leaving his boyfriend unanswered for so long, still, a part of him couldn’t help but smile fondly at the texts, warmth spreading in his chest at the concern, a feeling no one other than samsoo had ever been able to evoke in him.

that much had to be worth a song right?

jaewon could work with this, but of course not before responding to his boyfriend.

[ 20:31 outgoing message : my universe ] sorry, i lost track of time [ 20:31 outgoing message : my universe ] i just got an idea so it will be few hours still probably [ 20:32 outgoing message : my universe ] let me make it up to you tomorrow? no plans or anything, just us [ 20:33 outgoing message : my universe ] i love you, see you in a few hours

after that, his phone ended up back where it had been all those previous hours, after all, he had better things to focus on, like writing. he wanted a song that did justice to the happiness he felt whenever hearing from soo, how his heart felt lighter with every text message, every phone call from his boyfriend that had pretty much been dragging him through the workload that mainly had come with champion lately.

even two years into their relationship, their was a certain giddiness that came whenever his boyfriend’s name popped up on his phone, especially when the two of them were separated for a longer period of time.

it's a waste of time being alone and i'm waiting for your reply

the more lyrics he writes, the more he deviates from his original inspiration, somewhere along the line deciding to depict a relationship in its earlier stages rather than his own. as lovestruck as him and soo still were up to this day, jaewon had no doubts that he had been even more whipped, even more impatient to spend more time as a couple than he was today. this wasn’t supposed to just be about his relationship, it was supposed to have a universal feeling to it, something almost everyone could relate to.

i don't want to be alone let's just go out to the cafe on a day like this

it seemed a fitting theme for the color white, the excitement and eagerness of young love. of anxiously awaiting a text message even though you’d seen each other a few minutes ago, almost obsessively yet so innocent, so well-intended that it’s hard to attach a negative connotation to it. a helpless, awkward kind of impatience as you’re still figuring out the ins and outs of dating.

ya, what are you doing, except for me, call me what are you doing?

some more hours passed but eventually, jaewon finished the song a little before midnight. it was still a draft, some parts would undoubtedly have to be tweaked, words swapped out to be more fitting but it’s just fine-tuning, it can wait.

at the moment, jaewon just wanted to return home to soo with the same eagerness in his heart that he had just written down for reply.

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(he did end up fine-tuning the lyrics but not until the 23rd, the day he went in for recording and producing the final version of the song. ideally, he would have waited with the final recording until after the demo performances the next day but with champion leaving for america almost immediately, there was no time for that, the deadline slated for when he would be in the state. this would have to do instead, trying to get done the majority of the work before he left and if anything needed to be changed after the demo recording, any unforseen feedback, suggestions of criticism, jaewon would have to trust on his co-producer to take care of it. not that the thought worried him, the man was probably more skilled than he was anyway.)

Realty Stories that Show You How!

Let's begin easing you actually out of the pits. I mean, comfort zone! I'm going to slowly and carefully give you as many little sparks and insights to the not hard ways that ordinary people use real estate to achieve extraordinary outcome. Stories are the best spark plugs. They let you gently observe from a safe, secure and understandable view place. I will write to answer most of the questions that I experience I myself would ask if I was reading everything you are about to read. I want you to know something belonging to the very start of this report and that something is this unique: I care about you and I sincerely mean that. I seriously do want you to move to a new comfort zone, one that can be pleasurable and free from fear. A place where you realize you will have the power to achieve greater things than you currently can see right now. It's possible for you to start being a more powerfully directed purpose-driven individual who is well organized and on track to higher achievement. You are likely to change and grow, slowly and steadily with each page you read. With every thought and understanding you gain, your desire and courage will grow at the same time. Napoleon Hill wrote one of the greatest books of all time. It's referred to as "Think and Grow Rich. " The essence of these book, the secret it reveals time and again is this: you ought to develop a burning desire. Don't put this book downward thinking the previous statement is cliché and that you previously knew that! I am simply leading you to my then point, the next point being is - your hope needs a starting point. So to start developing desire, my technique is you must have a purpose. Why do you want to pursue real estate? I do know what you're thinking: to make money, to have security, that will feel useful and appear successful. Good points. I concur you can have all of that and more if that is what you desire. Currently here is something that comes before any of those things you desire. What's the purpose of all those things? Purpose, purpose, purpose... you need to very first define purpose before you get the things. My purpose, roughly I thought early in my career, was to move up to a nicer house and have my first house become my own first rental property. When I moved up to the next you, I quickly learned as soon as I rented it outside, I was in some way responsible for creating happiness and safety in the life of another person that was of no regards to me. It soon was evident to me how the selections I made in choosing that first property either could help me or hurt me in my quest to achieve the real estate investment business. All of it is cumulative, all you do and how you do it adds up. It compounds its own matters and it either makes your life easier or more difficult. My goal is to give you experiences that you can learn from that will make your life much easier; I am going to show you how. That is my purpose. The arrange that gave me the unknowing courage to take this first steps in real estate was a book labeled "How I Turned $1000 into $3 Million through real estate in my spare time" by William Nickerson. The person was a master storyteller and by osmosis, once reading his book, I found myself gravitating towards the home classified section of my Sunday paper. Eventually I jumped and my life had changed. It was an FHA property foreclosure, a two-bedroom, one-bath home with a built-in, screened-in group, with a Jacuzzi and a built-in sprinkler system. I bought the software for $46, 000 and used the HUD 203K rehab program to fix it up. I spent $16, 000 to update and make repairs. They then gifted me one loan for a total of $62, 000. It took me three months to complete it and Document was in; I had done it! My life changed, I realized, I took the leap. From then on I had confidence. I needed already had my first home but now I did two. Well, I was in the Coast Guard together with wouldn't you know, three months later we moved. Uncle Sam had me out of St. Petersburg, Florida and dropped others in Kodiak, Alaska, for my next tour about duty. Well guess what? I was armed with ambition, courage, confidence and just enough knowledge to be considered threatening, so I bought a duplex as soon as I came on land on Kodiak Island. Now I had three dwellings and additionally my relationships and responsibilities were growing with your new tenants counting on me to provide a clean, purposeful and pleasing environment for them to exist in. It seemed like this: My mother rented my first house in addition to an elderly couple rented the second one and a duplex came with an existing tenant who was a hospital officer, so I was lucky. I was able to ease myself towards the role of landlord without getting burned early into my career. I now had two houses and a duplex in the span of about one year. My brothers and some other sorts of family members took notice and were pretty well dumbfounded. Individuals couldn't figure out how I had, all of a sudden, become a real estate wizard. It all felt good to make that change in so quite short a time. I got that from reading a book! And also my friend is how you are going to do the majority of everything you achieve in real estate, by reading and taking steps closer to duplicating the success of others in a repeatable structure. The key is to understand that you can do it if you read the ideal books and apply the very basic formulas that are passed to you. There lies in: Magic Bullets in Real Estate This is usually a common man or woman's real estate manual. William Nickerson never gave me anything so easy as "Magic Principal points! " So I learned trial by fire and it has also been very gratifying. I've since went on to collect 17 real estate, 23 tenants, 2 real estate licenses in Florida along with Alaska, an assistant appraiser's certificate and over a one hundred dollars books on real estate. I just kept learning and maturing and gaining momentum for the last 13 years. I am however in the Coast Guard, too, and I work at Ak One Realty in my spare time. In two more numerous years, I will be retired at the ripe old age of 42. May sound like a sort of fairytale, doesn't it? Don't let me fool an individual. It's hard work and I'm still not a millionaire, yet I want you to have the truth, so I will be honest along every step of the way. I know why I am an excellent millionaire and here is why. I would periodically sell real estate that was going up in value and paying for itself because of the rent checks. But being in the Coast Guard would most likely dislocate me every four years, so I found ourselves selling out in order to avoid being what is called "an absentee landlord. " This is an important lesson for you. It has prevented me from becoming a millionaire up to this point. The tutorial is: find an area on this planet that you could and will inhabit, and stay close to it. Don't move more than 10 miles from your farm area. The farm area is definitely where all your properties are located. Long distance "land lording" might be tough! It can be done but you lose the ability to control your situation compared to if you were there. I've served my country and even saved people's lives, so for me it has not been in vain. I have no regrets but if you don't have to get away from your area of expertise, don't! The networks you develop and the contacts you build, in the process of "doing" property, are so valuable that when they are no longer at your disposal, it puts you at a serious disadvantage. Not to mention when you step you have to acclimate yourself to an entirely different market, build latest trust-based relationships and start all over again. It's like a treadmill you're going to be running and running, however it gets you nowhere. I had used it to my advantage. I have been forced towards accelerate my abilities to rapidly duplicate my achieving success whenever I am moved, but it is still an uphill combat. My point: Don't move too far from your farm or even your network of bankers, appraisers, carpenters, tradesman, housing, friends, tenants and so on. Once you have the skill you can redundant your success anywhere you go but if you don't have to be... enough said on that! I like to say, "Don't advertise the goose to get the eggs. " What that means is certainly if you need money to buy more property, use equity creases from other property to do it. You will get the same amount of cash or more by using an equity line as if you sold the idea. However , you get to keep the asset and the money! I go deep into this in "Magic Bullets, " so I won't drone on here. Just know you don't have to sell your property to see the cash out of them. So here we are. You know a little about me and you may have picked up a nugget or simply two. Let's find a few more. There once was men who wanted to buy some investment property, so what the guy did was look at growth patterns. You should do this at the same time, by going to your city's planning and zoning department. You will discover growth patterns and you definitely want to buy property that is an acronym in the way of growth. This is how he used what he discovered. He saw that city planners had decided which a new artery (highway) would benefit their city by just creating linkage to another city about 100 miles at a distance, so being a smart investor he only went in as much as a ten mile limit to be able to be close to your partner's investment. Now on average, new growth will radiate out from existing prosperous cities in the direction it is planned for a price of about one mile per year. So our smart individual had a 10 - 12 year plan to hard cash out in about 10 - 12 years. Exactly what he did was buy, I believe, 10 acres connected with commercially zoned property very cheaply because there was basically no demand at the time. He bought it, fenced it in, deal some lights and a gate, and held onto which usually little bugger. Now that new highway was coming this way and the good folks, through their taxes, was paying to have it built. It didn't take long for the heavy equipment to start cutting a swath when it comes to his fenced-in storage facility and when they got shut enough to him, he started renting out a good secure area for everything, from road cones in order to generators to backhoes. You name it - it had been stored there. This more than paid his land down. Now the men and their equipment eventually moved further down the trail but they left a completed highway behind them. And guess what? Low and behold, individuals started driving on it, and then started buying property to set up houses on to get away from the city. Since the new highway seemed to be a straight shot into town, ten miles through was breeze. Well, of course, here comes the herd and everyone is just populating the whole darned area. As well as within ten years, residential housing surrounds Mr. Investor, and will you guess what he's got? Yep, a prime part of commercial property, 10 acres large. So in accordance with her 10-12 year plan, he sells his storage option to make room for the new office/business park complex designed for over $2, 000, 000. That, my friend, is perception, and the sooner you get a clear picture of what it will be that you want to specialize in, the sooner you can retire to the of the islands. How hard was that? Don't tell me it's hard to do it, you can! I'm here to help you. I'm going to give you secrets and techniques no one else dares. Do you ever wonder why people will not tell you the secrets? Of course you already know this but I'm going to tell you anyway. It is because they are operating on a scarcity attitude, as though there won't be any left for them. Or whenever learn something and act on it, you will get ahead and possess a great life. Well, misery loves company and quiet oppression is the rule. Here's a little story that low quality real estate agents won't appreciate either but I'm going to tell that to you anyway. The reason I can tell it is because there are some amazing real estate agents out there who absolutely don't fear what Now i'm about to tell you and would let you know it if they happen to be in my position. Here's the deal: Some agents want to be for instance the Wizard of Oz . They want to create the appearance of selling and transacting real estate as being technical and very legal, a new deep dark mystery. Well, it's not! The truth be told, you possibly can write a contract on a napkin and it would give a presentation in court. I will emphasize here that you write for that napkin along with the terms of your agreement, "The words and phrases set forth on this here napkin are subject to my lawyer's approval. " An attorney will cover you completely for around $750. 00. Prices may vary, however that is an average home contract. There is a lot I am leaving out here but our point is this: If you own property, you can market it anyway you want. "Magic Bullets" will teach you. We will move on. Exposure is the key to finding buyers and owners in real estate. If a property is priced fairly not to mention everyone who is looking for that type of property knows that should be in the availability pool, it will be found and the transaction will probably proceed as advertised. Price it right, advertise the application properly and let the lawyer take care of the details. No fee, just a flat fee. Period. Now that I have that off my personal chest, I will tell you a story about Dan, a 21-year old friend of mine, and his wife and also their new baby. He's a hardworking guy who does an individual's work without complaint and all the other "workers" pick in him for working so hard. Can you believe this? The other guys are so insecure and lazy construct y make fun of a guy who is doing the work of two to three men, mainly of the three who are ridiculing him. Nicely, believe me, this doesn't go unnoticed by me plus I take him under my wing. Dan hopes to buy a house, so I begin the process of saving them years of trial by fire and save your man $25, 000 at no charge. That is because he deserved great help. Anyway, here is the story: I began with the pup by asking him what type of home he thought yet be comfortable with and a price range. He indicated a 3-bedroom for around $100, 000. Knowing what he wanted as well as knowing the area, I was able to take him shopping for the place he was looking for. Now I always go after the "For Selling by Owner" homes first because I know they won't possibly be adding any commission figure into their price, because they will never be paying one. So at 6% of $100, 000 he will get $6, 000 more "house" for his particular precious dollar. I also told him besides the "For Sale by Owner" homes, we would be looking at oddball discount companies that help distressed sellers further spend the their money and property. The mentality of a dealer who uses cheesy companies to help them sell their property is pennywise and pound-foolish. If you're going to use individuals, then get a professional. So off we go. After a day or so, we have found our house. Sure enough, El Cheeso Inc. has a sign on it. The screen doors are actually flapping in the breeze, the weeds are dancing within the lawn, but this house is indeed a 3-bedroom, 2-bath, 1-car garage with a fenced yard and it's selling regarding $110, 000. Well, due to the fact that there is a divorce in progress, and a new girlfriend who doesn't like the place, and El Cheeso Inc. giving no representation, I settle for Dan and he gets it for $99, 000. What's so great about this deal is this very same floor plan in another house was for sale across town, on the same street, for $25, 000 more. The ethical of the story is good things come to those who deserve the item, and that is another key to real estate. You must work very hard so others will take notice of you and enable you to succeed. Here's a beauty for you. This is about being on real estate circles and keeping your eyes and hearing open and often times your "yapper" closed. This is the adventure of Brian and Julie. Here we have two industrious souls. They have been married for 20 years and they have weathered the storms of matrimony. Julie works at a real estate property office as an office manager. No real estate license, however she works at an office that sells plenty of waterfront property. So we are talking about location and staying in the right place at the right time, and below comes a seller in the door of the office documenting she is going to sell her older waterfront home. She is ready to take $180, 000. Julie tells Brian, they look at it and sure enough, this pearl is right on the water. She gets a gem waiting to be polished up, so Brian and Julie sell their condominium and move in. Very well, they aren't making any more waterfront property, so John goes to work polishing this jewel up. Now, they've bought this house under market value in an appreciating market. So about one and a half years later, the property is worth over $350, 000 and still climbing. Most certainly, Brian is no dummy, so he gets to know his / her neighborhood. He strolls, takes walks and notices, one guessed it, a vacant, neglected jewel on an within double lot. He tracks down the elderly lady, who's going to be living with her sister, through the county records office together with buys the house, including the extra lot, for a total for $120, 000. Now Brian can walk to his or her new "jewel" and he starts polishing it. Typically the neighbors start noticing and are amazed at his put up. He has offers of $180, 000, $200, 000 and additionally $60, 000 for just the lot. You name them. Now that the exposure is there, everyone wants a piece of it again. Well, this is what Brian did. He rented his 1st house out, moved into the second one and utilised plans that I gave to him to build a third residential home on the vacant lot, using the equity he accumulated from first house that went up so much. And listed below is how this thing shakes out: $180, 000 intended for his first house and it's value goes up to $365, 000; he picked up the next jewel for $120, 000 and he paid cash using the equity from the first of all house. Now he takes out a new mortgage on the second house for $120, 000 and builds still another. The value at last count was $815, 000 and she owed a grand total $300, 000. That's a 1 / 2 million-dollar profit in 5 years! Now what really does this story tell us? #1 - it says, "work hard"; #2 - keep your eyes open; #3 - use equity lines; #4 - don't sell; #5 - learn how to be a landlord; #6 - be in locales that appreciate; #7 - buy things that are constrained in availability; #8 - know how to research owners in addition to repair property; #9 - get your partner's help (spouse); #10 - use knowledgeable friends to help you see future (I gave him the plans and advised your pet not to sell anything! ). Can you get any more instructions out of this story? I'm sure you can. Just read it once more and think on it. Jot down your ideas and put the crooks to work. Real estate is not that hard, folks! You can do it. Along with a few magic bullets, some spark plugs and a great mentor to show you how, you can do it too! Let me you and me talk for just a minute here, OK! Have you ever long been really good at something and been able to step to come back and see the whole thing for what it is was? You just comprehend exactly how to do it and you can see the end result clearly mentally before you start. It's predictable to you. It's almost second makeup, so you are comfortable doing it. It's almost become unexciting to you; your comfort zone is such that you can do it into your sleep. I've gotten that way with certain types of properties and I see people everyday that are so terrified of taking the first step that they are literally paralyzed. They produce excuses and put it off, and rationalize and live any quiet life of desperation. They don't trust themselves and so of the unknown they can't trust anyone else either. This is a horrible cycle because the longer they wait the more it reinforces their beliefs. I just want to grab them by the back of the shirt, take them to the bank and make them tell the bank, "Pre-qualify me! " Then walk them out the entranceway and show them how to do something that will change their daily life forever, and that is to buy the first property, and then a second. Therefore their fear is gone and they grow to be of service to make sure you everyone who is ready for their assistance. Let me tell you this: When you have finish reading the rest of this report and you read the "Magic Bullets" book, your fears will be subdued and you will want to do something and your life will change. If you cannot succeed with what I am motive on showing you, then something is not right. I feel your desire would be your major obstacle, so in that case, read "Think and Grow Rich" by Napoleon Slope and come back to me then. Let's get back to real estate coaching, shall we? Do you know who the largest commercial real estate operator in the U. S. is? It's McDonalds Corporation. Yes, and on top of that, they also have the most valuable locations for their particular business. The research they do on demographics and website visitors counts is unparalleled! If you were ever going to clear a fast food restaurant, just put it near a McDonalds. You would survive just on the volume of people who flock or maybe pass by the location that McDonalds has already decided meets the critical data to support their restaurant business. Your eating place, if you had good food and service, would grow. Just sell something a little different than McDonalds. That's profiting someone else's expertise in evaluating a location for a certain types of real estate. Now that is a principle and principles are want natural laws. A natural law always works in every issue in its own way. It's like gravity - it all always works! Here on earth, anyway. So in realty it doesn't matter what type it is, whether it's commercial, residential, industrial as well as recreational. Look for signs that serious market studies have already been undertaken by major operators and buy things that can achieve the presence of those concerns. For instance, let's use Place Depot as an example. If Home Depot decides to build at a site, every residential lot within a mile of that brand new center will be bought up as soon as the Home Depot commits to build! Why? Because smart investors know that Home Depot has done the market study and the area will be a prosperous one particular. On top of that, it will provide jobs, it will pay taxes, it may provide materials to actually build the neighborhoods with, and the ones will shop there once their houses are built. An identical goes for Wal-Mart, Lowe's and other smart business concerns. You will or may not have noticed this but take a look the next time you are driving around. Here is what you should see. As you travel into cities from the suburbs, you'll notice donut boutiques, gas stations with convenience coffee centers, bagel shops, along with etcetera, on the side of the road that people travel to on their method into the city to go to work. These are morning activity enterprise centers. Now on your way home, out of the city, you will see places to eat that cater to the evening meal crowd: KFC, Taco Bell, Subway and Pizza Hut. That's because people will not go there for breakfast. They get it on their technique home, outbound from the city at night. If you put the restaurant on the wrong side of the road, you could be at home huge strategical error. Think! Location, location, location as they say, are the 3 most important things in real estate. That is a very true statement. With residential property, that boils down to safeness, security and convenience. So buy homes in decent neighborhoods, cul-de-sacs preferably. No noise or through visitors, no escape routes for thieves, and a private positioning, where kids play in the street without getting run down. Safety = close to hospitals, police and fire protection for the purpose of obvious reasons. Convenience = stores, gas stations, restaurants, enterprises, parks and recreation and access to major highways for you to circulate or evacuate if necessary. You might get a great deal about the piece of properly but if it takes you a half 60 minute block to get a loaf of bread. What kind of resale will which will great deal offer? Another great deal may back up to or possibly face a busy street. That's often a poor decision as well... noise, pollution, the loss of privacy and curb draw are all factors here. The two best types of property to obtain are: 1 . Property that no one else knows is ideal for sale! Why? Because you have no competition. 2 . Property normally wants! You just have to figure out why people don't want to buy. If you can turn that lemon into lemonade through numerous problem solving, that jewel may just shine because you employed the right magic polish. In real estate, you get paid if you solve problems. That is a fact! Here is a golden nugget available for you. If you do this, it will catapult your real estate investment career. That i guarantee you will gain more insight to real estate therefore one thing than just about anything else you could possibly do. The glowing nugget is this: Take a real estate appraisal course. It may fly by, a few weekends and it's over, but the perception and the information you gain from the class is priceless. The software gives you vision, ideas and understanding. You will have an edge through every other investor who has not done it. I had the instructor, who by some stroke of luck, I just was privileged to be taught by. His name is without a doubt Steven V. and he is truly a genius. This guy could create millions if he applied himself to real estate investment though he chooses to teach and give back to others in that way. He could be very comfortable in life and money is a by-product for Steven. When I finished the class, I had appraisers wanting to hire me to go to work. Now I won't want to work as an appraiser. I just want to think including one and that is why I took that four-weekend tutorial. That class taught me more than both of my best real estate licensing courses combined. The reason for that is real estate courses deal with state laws, contracts, regulations and ethics. Value determination focuses on evaluating real estate and that is what you want to learn as an real estate investor. A real estate license can actually hold you back as a result of being a savvy investor and here's why: #1 : You have to announce to every seller that you are an agent. It will be an ethics rule and a disclosure law. Well, currently the seller is on guard for all kinds of reasons so you waste precious time overcoming negative reactions. #2 - When you attend sell your real estate, the same things apply but grow that scenario the fact that if you make large profits regarding property that you sell, people can come after you, saying a person took advantage of them because of your expertise. And they be successful! So you don't need to go to college for 4 years and also don't need a real estate license. What you do need is actually a guy like me to convince you to go to value determination school and read books like the one you have at this time. Then go out and do it, using a lawyer to protect you will every step of the way. Again, here is a good indicate make. Simply weave into every agreement or deliver make the following statement: This entire agreement is subject to my attorney's approval. I can't stress that enough. It is one line of text. That covers it all. It presents time to investigate deals. It protects your interests and even keeps you from getting burned in this business. Right here are a couple more beauties that I use to protect myself and you ought to too. These are used with initial purchase offers: 1 . Ready to pay X amount of dollars or appraised value, any is less. (That says, "I'm only going to spend so much but if the appraisal is lower than what I proposed, than I am going to get it for the lower price. I don't get scorched! ) 2 . Subject to my partner's approval. (My mate was always my wife, and if she didn't like it, the deal was null and void, cancelled, over, kaput, finito. ) Now nothing says my partner wasn't the dog, so if there's no fire hydrant, well the offer could be off. Those are examples of escape clauses that may be abused to the point of being called "weasel clauses. " Do not be a weasel! They give you a short period of time to have the option to order something first with the right to cancel the deal, contingent on something or someone else's decision. I use them to protect personally and to get a little time to do my research on the building. Don't use them to unfairly tie a seller's hands. Possibly be fair and try to move quickly when you do utilize them. What you are doing is creating a short time, zero-cost option to buy real estate. Here is a little trick and I avoid the use of it very often but it can be used in a fair manner i really will give you the nugget. When you write an offer purchasing property, on the top line of the contract is a line the fact that indicates who the buyer is. On that line in a few cases, I will write my name plus the words and / or assigns, like this: Buyers: Dan Auito or assigns The things that word "assigns" does is this: it permits me to sell by assigning my right to buy the place to someone else. Dirty dealers will take advantage of people with who word if they can get away with it. Here's where We'd use it. In real estate, a lot of bargain hunters look for distressed property. You know, the fixer-uppers, the abandoned, condemned, fire-damaged stuff. I go a step further and look for affected sellers such as death, divorce, relocation, but a lot of times My spouse and i don't specialize in that type of property. That's OK if it's a steal and I get it for 40 -- 50% off, I will assign it to someone who does deal in that type of property and make a profit by determining it. I'll always ask the distressed seller should that is a problem and if it is, I will buy it downright, then flip it but it costs more to do that. Therefore I'll explain this to the seller and get their agreement to use it. I don't slip it in about them. You will have a miserable existence if you practice real estate by deceit. Natural law will crush you; play fair! Goal, passion and desire cannot be achieved or acquired by simply deceit. That's a quotable quote. I hope you remember the software. Let's get on with another story. This illustrates a second fine example for you. This story is about a family what person had business interests outside of real estate investing and as a result from the successes of their other businesses they had fairly large sums of money to play real estate like a monopoly adventure. Power can be dangerous in the wrong hands! So listed here we go. This flush with cash family perceives an opportunity to take advantage of an overlooked or left alone markets. That market is the old-fashioned trailer park, or shall we say Mobile Home Park. Anyway, the way almost all mobile home parks came into existence was this: Usually a person of integrity and strong work ethic coupled with a fabulous love for his fellow man would buy a parcel suitable to the placement of mobile homes. As people gone in, he and his wife would welcome individuals and the neighbors would greet them and the community may become established. The private owner would dig his own sewer lines and cut his own roads and scenery the park. Maybe put in the clubhouse complete with an important swimming pool, shuffleboard, pool table and meeting hall. Because time marched on, the residents bonded with each other along with a family-friendly community took root. Well this man in integrity had a problem. Since all of his tenants will be his friends, he is pressured not to raise the lot rent with inflation. So the rents over the years are kept suprisingly low in the park and now this man and his partner are getting old. Perfect timing for our investors to come bumping and offer our private aging park owner a three million dollar price for his 10 acres regarding mobile home lots. This is a once in a lifetime deliver and many park owners cashed out. What people didn't notice was these investors were systematically and methodically the process all over the place and once they cashed out as many mom not to mention pops as they could, they lowered the boom. At this time they the investors had control of many parks from the same areas and they started raising the lot rental prices. You see, they didn't have any emotional ties towards the residents and they didn't live there, so it was an easy business deal: either pay the new higher rent or perhaps move. The residents said, "To hell with you fresh owner, we are moving. " "Well, fine, go ahead, " they said. Now the residents started calling all-around to find another park with low rents but think who owned those? Yep, our investors did, and others lot rents were going up too. So the mom and also pops who didn't sell were full and it would certainly cost on average of about $7, 000 to relocate to a different one park even if they could find a vacancy. The old folks that had it so good for so long were faced with the latest reality and that was that they had no choice and yet to pay up or move, and moving, in many cases, wasn't an option. These investors exploited a complete segment of the current market and made millions and millions in profit and continue to achieve today. It wasn't long after this happened that you began seeing signs saying, "This is a resident owned group. " People eventually got smart and started selecting that little lot that their trailer was placed on and they began paying association dues for the club and security and grounds, maintenance and road fix. The good ole days are nothing but a fond storage. Life goes on but America did not change for the more effective as a result of these types of people. Their only purpose was to help with making money; I believe they will die alone and in anguish as a result of their way of life. So I ask you again, on earth do you be passionate and put your heart into purchasing real estate by investing the way our corporate investors does? I think not. Money is no good when you get it through deceitful ways. I encourage you to work at balancing your own objectives. Lease optioning, flippers... you are walking a fine series. Here's a flip side to communal living. This tale is a happier scenario, so let's have a little happiness here. I once lived in Key West plus I lived off base. Well, I thought When i lived next door to Noah, and it sounded as though the person was building another ark. All summer long, hammers and saws seemed to be making some type of racket, so of course being the neighbor I was, I got to know the person next door. He never went to work and I quizzed him one day, "Don't you have a job and he somewhat grinned and put his hammer down and this will be Mark's story. Mark and his brother were out of your Northeast and they had a 30-room boarding house pertaining to college kids there, at something like $300. 00 a calendar month. That was about $9, 000 a month and they made typically the parents responsible for the rent payments. Mark would commit his time with his family in the Keys for the on the lookout for months that school was in session. His brother was initially a local up North and he took care of your toilets, faucets, doors and windows. Yes, they had their very own animal house hold going on there, but Mark factored in the abuse as well as would spend 2 - 3 months a year, putting your pet house back together while the animals went home just for summer break. Mark only worked three months a year as well as house (ark) that he built next to us was the masterpiece; it was beautiful. He was a master craftsman and he loved his work and spent loads of his time with his family in a wonderful climate. Makes you kind of jealous, doesn't it? Well, don't let it books can do it, too, but you must get started. Mark was basically 45 when I met him. I believe he was twenty five when he got started, so my advice to your account is to get started now!

Lunacy Fringe (Chapter 7)

AngstAngstAngst

I mean did you really think there wouldn't be any? Looool C'mon now, it's me :')

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After clearing away the dishes, the pair sat on the couch. Zoey once again reading her book as Daryl just sat there enjoying the quiet. She kept glancing at him and he started to get nervous every time he felt her eyes on him. He wanted to ask her about it, but he couldn't bring himself to. The realisation of his feelings had made him feel nervous around her for some reason.

“Do you think we could sit on the porch for a bit?” she asked hesitantly, nibbling her lower lip as she looked at him. He turned to look at her with a quirked brow, eyes drifting to her lip. He didn’t know why seeing her do that did things to him.

“Feelin’ brave today huh?” he asked, a smile creeping onto his face. Despite his disappointment of it all, he did genuinely feel happy for her that she was feeling more at ease. She huffed a laugh, making him grin at her.

“In for a penny, in for a pound, or some other bullshit,” she snorted, rolling her eyes playfully. He couldn't help that laugh that escaped him, it made her beam at him. She’d never heard him laugh before and it was wonderful. Daryl shook his head with a grin as he stood up. It was nice to hear her humour, to hear her being herself. It was kind of like discovering a new layer to her.

She got up and followed him to the kitchen, where he took out two beers before going to the porch. They sat on the porch swing, watching as the sky grew dark in front of them. It was peaceful out here this late and she relaxed. She was with Daryl so she knew she was safe. He handed her the beer after opening it and she took a swig. The swing swayed lightly and she lay her head on his shoulder. It felt like it exploded with tingles that reverberated throughout his entire body. He didn't realise how much he’d missed being close to her and he felt that weird confusion again. She acted like she liked him, or at least wanted him around for some fucking reason. That didn't match up to his own thoughts about not being good enough for anything like that. Nothing made sense. But in that moment, he couldn't care less. She was there with him, lay on him, and he’d enjoy any fucking thing she wanted to give him. He felt fucking pathetic and needy.

Almost a week went by and Zoey was doing better. She still didn’t talk to anyone other than Daryl, Rick or Carol, but if people came over, she wasn't a complete mess. She’d just stay quiet and not look at them. Daryl was able to leave the house now for a few hours at a time, something that Rick was quite pleased about. He was able to help around the community and even take some short guard shifts. They hadn’t passed the hurdle of him leaving Alexandria, but they didn’t want to push too far too soon and ruin all the progress she had made.

Daryl wasn’t sure when she would suddenly decide he wasn’t worthy of her time anymore, so he just tried to enjoy the time he had with her like it could be his last. He felt like it had already started. They hadn’t had any physical contact since the night on the porch swing. Without his need to soothe her, to hold her hand or stroke her hair, it felt like she was floating away from him. The one thing he did have though was that she still slept on his floor. He was fucking clinging to those moments before she woke, where he could openly admire her like his life depended on it.

Zoey paced at the front door anxiously. Daryl was on guard duty and she had been working up the courage to leave the house by herself for the first time. Not only that, but to talk to someone she hadn’t spoken to yet. She’d heard from Carol how strong and fierce Michonne was, she wanted to ask the woman to help train her. She had defended herself well before the group, before the horror her life turned into. But she was rusty, and by no means that good. She wanted to ask Daryl but she didn't want to ask too much of him. So instead she decided to push herself out of her comfort zone. She’d done well so far, she hoped it would continue. She took a deep breath before opening the door.

She glanced around, noticing people milling about, some glancing and waving at her. She’d been venturing out for walks around with Daryl at night, and people didn’t see her as a threat anymore. Most of them probably thought she was weak after all they’d heard about her. She forced her feet to move towards Ricks house. She looked at the guard tower and saw Daryl's form watching out, smiling to herself. It gave her a wave of calm that she desperately needed to be able to see him. She saw Michonne stood near her porch and she approached nervously.

“Hey, Michonne?” she asked hesitantly. The woman in question turned to look at her and her eyes widened a little, not expecting to see Zoey out of the house, let alone actually talking to her. She was pleased though, she liked the girl. She too, just like Carol, knew she was much stronger than anyone would think. She’d spoken a lot to Rick about the girl.

“Zoey, hi,” she smiled warmly at her, the kindness from the fierce woman eased Zoey's nerves a little.

“I...Uh...I…” she couldn't find the words and she huffed in frustration, she’d come so far, she couldn't do this now. Michonne waited patiently, knowing she needed to gather herself.

“Carols told me a lot about you, and...I was wondering if maybe...You could help me learn some things. How to fight, defend myself?” she asked, giving the woman a hopeful look. Michonne grinned at her, she was happy the girl wanted to learn these things and depend on herself, but she also felt wary about Daryl. She knew he wouldn’t handle it well that he hadn't been asked to help her himself.

“What about Daryl?” she asked cautiously, not trying to sound too presumptuous. Everyone knew something was going on, yet the pair seemed either oblivious to it or confused. Michonne couldn't help but think they liked one another but didn't think the other returned the sentiment. Zoey blew out a breath, her eyes glancing over at Daryl who still hadn't noticed her.

“I just, I feel like I ask too much of him, you know? I don’t want him thinking I’m taking advantage,” she admitted softly. Michonne didn't miss how her eyes drifted to the hunter, and she knew then without a doubt she was right, the girl liked him, a lot.

“I don’t think he’d feel that way. I think maybe you should ask him. But if he says no, I’d be more than happy to help,” she smiled warmly. Zoey's face fell a little, she was unsure why it seemed like a big deal for her to help her, that Daryl had to do it.

“Okay,” she nodded softly.

Abraham climbed up the ladder to relieve Daryl of his guard duty. As much as Daryl was glad to be back doing things and occupying his mind from his feelings, he always felt like he was going out of his mind when he was away from her.

“Looks like your girl is doing better,” Abe chuckled as he passed him, patting Daryl on the back. Daryl looked confused for a minute before he looked out, seeing Zoey talking to Michonne. His heart felt like it dropped and fell right out of his ass. She was out of the house without him, talking to someone new. It was a tough pill to swallow and his feelings started to morph into anger and jealousy. He was jealous, of fucking Michonne. He knew it was stupid but he couldn't help it.

“Ain’t my girl,” he snapped as he went to descend the ladder. He didn't know why he was so angry. He knew he should have felt honoured that Abe would even think they were a couple, like Daryl could get a girl like her. But his feelings were out of control.

“Whatever you say buddy,” Abraham snorted a little, shaking his head. Daryl stopped before he got to the ladder and tilted his head, his chest starting to heave.

“The fuck does that mean?” he growled, causing Abe to raise a brow at him like he was amused.

“I’m not blind, everyone can see it. If she's not your girl then she should be. You look at her like she’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. And she looks at you like you hung the damn moon. All I’m saying is, if you like each other, just go for it. Life’s too short man,” with that Abe turned to watch outside of the walls, leaving Daryl working his jaw. Asshole don’t even know what he’s talkin’ about. Like she’d be interested in trash like me. He huffed and descended the ladder, jumping down and missing the last few steps.

He made his way over to the women, Zoeys face lighting up when she saw him. He didn’t look happy though, not one bit, and Michonne quirked a brow at him.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked gruffly, glancing between the two women.

“I was just asking Michonne if she could help train me,” Zoey said softly, feeling his anger for whatever reason. She didn’t know what happened but she didn’t like it. He grunted a little and scratched the scruff on his chin.

“Yeah, but I said it would be best if you did it,” Michonne clarified, trying to catch Daryl's eye so she could gauge what was going on in his head.

“Why the fuck would I do it?” he huffed, scowling before walking off. Zoey blinked and furrowed her brow, looking at his retreating form. Michonne was even shocked by his outburst and when she looked at how sad Zoey looked, she felt bad.

“Hey, don’t worry about him. Someone must have pissed him off. Ask him again when he’s calmed down,” she smiled reassuringly. Zoey nodded before heading off back home. She’d never seen Daryl act this way towards her before. She’d seen him moody with others, even scream at them when they upset her, but never to her. She couldn’t figure out what she could have done to make him act like this. She’d been doing so well, pushing herself even when she wasn't comfortable, just for him. To make his life easier.

When she got in, Daryl was stood in the kitchen chugging a bottle of water, glancing at her and then looking away. He still looked mad and Zoey didn't know why he’d spoken to her that way.

“Are you mad at me?” she frowned. Her stupid sad face only got Daryl more angry, it was like all his feelings turned into rage just because he couldn't cope with the fact she was starting to not need him anymore.

“Why would I be mad at ya? Don’t give a shit,” he snapped as he walked passed her to sit down on the couch. His words stung her and she blinked a little before walking in front of him, causing an irritated sigh from his lips. He couldn’t get the fuck away from her, from his thoughts. He couldn’t get a reign on himself.

“What did I do? Why are you acting like this?” she asked sadly. He glared at her, his gaze felt like it was slicing through her skin. He chuckled darkly, and even though he knew he needed to shut the fuck up, his mouth didn’t seem to want to cooperate with his brain and the words kept coming out.

“Why? Maybe because ya just can't seem to want rid of me fast enough. What? I ain’t good enough for ya now? Huh?! Now ya fuckin’ gettin’ better ya don't give a shit about the redneck trash that helped ya so much?!” he yelled, standing up and crowding her a little, making her take a step back as she stared at him with wide eyes. And for the first time ever, she felt scared of him. His nostrils were flaring and his chest heaving as he glared down at her.

“What are you talking about?” she asked sounding slightly panicked. Daryl would have picked up on the tone right away, how her breathing was becoming ragged, but he was too consumed by his own fucking problems to see what was right in front of him.

“What, ya fuckin’ stupid now?! Askin’ Michonne to help ya when ya know damn well I’d fuckin’ do it! Swannin’ around the place now ya don’t need me there, talkin’ to fuckin’ anyone who takes yer fancy!” he knew, he fucking knew he was being ridiculous and acting like a child throwing a tantrum. To be so mean to her just because she was doing well and making friends. But his brain wasn’t working. She furrowed her brow more, not understanding why he was so mad that she was making an effort. Her eyes stung with tears as she tried to get a hold of herself.

“I didn’t ask you because I feel like I ask too much of you!” she yelled back, tears falling down her pale cheeks. It was like the words physically smacked some sense into him, and he took a step back with wide eyes, realising he was towering over her like that and yelling in her face.

Seeing her tears, her wide eyes looking at him like that, it felt like a punch to the gut. She looked terrified and upset all rolled into one and he felt the shame seeping in. How he’d got in her face like that, fucking screamed at her. Zoey was so confused, she didn’t understand why the hell he was being like this and saying these things when she’d done all this for him.

“Zoey..I-”

“Fuck you Daryl! The only reason I pushed myself this far is because I don’t want to drag you down with me!” she shouted, wiping her eyes angrily. He wiped a hand over his face, guilt and shame setting in deep in his bones. Her words like a knife slicing through him, cutting him in half. She’d done all this for him. He felt a lump forming in his throat as he tried to speak, but no words came out. He didn’t know what he could possibly say to make this situation better. He’d fucked it all up. She shook her head, the look of disappointment on her face made him want to crawl in a hole and die. She pushed past him and stormed upstairs, slamming her bedroom door for good measure.

She sat on her bed, crying and wiping her eyes in anger. She didn’t understand. Why had he said those things like it was a bad thing, that she was getting better, talking to people? She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Daryl sat downstairs on the couch with his head in his hands. His heart ached terribly in his chest and he didn’t know what to do. He decided to go up and talk to her, he needed to fucking apologise at the very least. He knocked on her door softly but she didn’t answer. He decided to just let himself in. He saw her hugging her knees on her bed, sniffling as she looked up and glared at him.

“What?” she sneered, making his heart clench. He chewed his lower lip and he slowly made his way over, sitting on the end of the bed far away from her. He rested his elbows on his knees and glared at the floor.

“M’sorry,” he said softly, knowing it wasn’t fucking enough but he was at a loss. She huffed a little as she looked at him.

“Why would you say those things Daryl? Like its a bad thing I‘m getting better?” she asked, hurt lacing each word that killed him. He started worrying his thumb as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“It ain’t a bad thing ya gettin’ better,” he all but whispered, shaking his head.

“Seems like it,” she huffed, frowning to herself. He got up and started pacing, getting angry again. But it wasn’t at her this time, it was at himself. He hadn't been able to contain himself and now he had to explain the shit he’d said, without coming across like a selfish asshole.

“It’s not...I’m glad ya gettin’ better...It’s just….Fuck!” he tugged at his hair frustrated and Zoey watched him carefully from the bed.

“When ya asked Michonne to help...I just got...I got fuckin’ jealous alright?! Fuck! I don’t...I’ve been the one to help ya, ya needed me...and now ya don’t and I don’t know how to fuckin’...” he couldn’t get his thoughts out properly, his mind was going a million miles a second.

Zoey furrowed her brow confused. He thought she didn't need him anymore and that made him...sad? She slowly moved off the bed, grabbing his wrist to stop him from pacing. She startled him, he hadn’t even seen her get up. He looked at her shocked and then pained, glancing at the floor.

“But I do need you Daryl,” she said softly, her sad eyes boring into him. He shrugged her off and took a step back.

“Ya don’t. Ya fuckin’...leavin’ the house without me...talkin’ to new people. Ya ain’t a mess around people now and ya don’t need me by ya side...And it’s great, I know it is...I just…” he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm his breathing. He was unravelling in front of her. How could he get his point across without telling her he felt something for her? Suddenly he was shoved and his eyes flew open, her eyes were blazing and he’d never seen her like that before. He looked like he was about to get his ass kicked by the tiny little thing, and he would have found it amusing if it weren't for the current circumstances.

“Don’t you dare! You don’t know what I need Daryl! Just because I’m doing all these things doesn't mean I don't need you!” she shouted, tears threatening to fall. He looked at her confused, he didn't understand.

“And what ya need me for huh? Ain’t like I make ya feel safe anymore!” he snapped, clenching his jaw and shaking his head. She growled and took a step away from him, pacing a little, it was like looking into a fucking mirror.

“You don't get it! All of this, I’m doing it for you! Because I don't want to drag you down with me anymore. I don't want you to feel like a fucking caretaker because I'm weak and pathetic! I want to prove to you that it was worth saving me! To be able to fend for myself if I need to! To earn my fucking place here! I wanted to make you proud of me!” she yelled as the tears fell freely.

He felt like his chest caved in as each word sunk in, making him feel like a bigger asshole by the second. She did it all for him because she felt like a burden to him. He felt his eyes sting and he turned away, pushing the heels of his palms into his eyes to stop the onslaught of tears that wanted to break free. He couldn't believe he messed this up so badly, fucked up the only good thing he had in his life.

“I am proud of ya,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion as he faced away from her, trying to fucking get a hold of himself. He heard her scoff and he turned around to look at her. She wasn't expecting to see him looking tearful.

“I don’t think yer a burden alright? I want ya to get better, but when I think about ya not needin’ me anymore...it fuckin’ hurts,” he admitted, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. She stopped pacing and looked at him confused. This whole thing didn't make any sense.

“But I do need you Daryl! Jesus Christ! You don't just feel safe to me...You… you feel like home,” she said softly, her chest heaving as her glassy eyes looked at him. He stilled completely, furrowing his brow like her words were a different language. He couldn't quite grasp what she was trying to say. He knew what it sounded like. He knew because that's exactly how he felt about her and he couldn't have worded it better himself, but he couldn't believe it was possibly true.

“I care about you Daryl, okay? And I know it’s stupid and you'd never care the same way, but there it is. You make me feel things I’ve never felt, and I might not be a mess anymore when you aren't here, but it feels like a gaping hole in my chest when I’m away from you,” she admitted, her cheeks burning bright at having to tell him such a thing. She shook her head, angry at the whole situation before storming out of the room. He heard the front door slam and it made his heart ache inside of his chest, that she'd walked out just to get away from him.

Daryl stood there, his jaw slack as his mind went over and over the words she just told him, like his brain couldn't quite fathom them. She cared about him, she actually fucking cared about him, and she thought he didn't feel the same. And it was no wonder after how he'd just acted. Like a huge fucking asshole, making her cry. He sat on the bed, shoulders slumped as he tried to figure out what the fuck to do, he needed to tell her he felt the same. But had he ruined it now? He couldn't even believe she liked him in the first place, and now he had to fuck it up. He'd never been interested in a girl like this before, and a girl like Zoey...Abe wasn't wrong when he said he looked at her like she was the most precious thing he'd ever laid eyes on, because to Daryl, she was. She was amazing, like a rare bird, and he never thought in his wildest dreams she would feel anything for him. And now he’d gone and pushed her away. He didn't know what the fuck to do, he needed to talk to someone. He needed to talk to Carol.

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How to be your own person

At 27 years old, most people perceive me as unapologetic, bold, a warrior fighting for what is right, fair, honest and inspirational. Which is kind of accurate [insert modesty here], but it’s important to note that I’m not all these things simultaneously.  Sometimes I’m just too busy overthinking myself to death, having meltdowns and self-sabotaging whilst still being a nice person [yes, I can multitask that way 😂]. To understand where I’m coming from and what “qualifies” me to tell you how to be your own person, here’s a glimpse into the worst parts of myself from ten years ago: 

I worked hard to improve and change, because I was sick and tired of all the unecessary unpleasantness I was allowing myself to live in. I do hope that you’re not imagining that I managed to achieve this by sheer will. On the contrary, it was more a mix of taking chances, trying things outside of my comfort zone and seeking to surround myself with people that see my value, respect me and support me without kissing my ass to obtain something from me 💅. Of course, I derailed from this “master plan” of becoming my own person on a few occasions because my auto pilot was strong - if I wouldn’t pay attention to something for a little while, I was instantly switching back to my old ways because it was easier and more comfortable. Right now I’d say I’ve come pretty far, and I’m proud of what I achieved, but I didn’t do it alone - it’s the result of many people giving me a hand, helping me in times of need or giving me a chance when no one else would.

I think becoming who you are and maintaining it is a lifelong process, and something we always need to pay attention to and work on it, because as I said - it doesn’t take much to revert to your unhealthy old ways. Here’s where I am now:

Most of the above ideals are not a 5 minute job, it takes years to get there and it won’t be easy - but it’s all worth it, I can promise you that. And just because I changed, it doesn’t mean that I don’t still doubt myself at times, or fall back a little into my old ways at times. It just means that I make a conscious effort daily to stay true to myself and not compromise my wellbeing for anyone.

Without further ado, here are my tips on how to be your own person:

Always have your own best interest at heart

If you’re like me, it’s difficult to constantly have your defences up and think of yourself 24/7. So having your own best interest at heart is also aided by building healthy relationships with those around you, choosing a work environment where you can be yourself and not having to walk all over your values often and reducing contact with toxic people that you can’t just remove from your life (such as family or old friends). Seeking what’s best for you is not always easy or obvious, but a way to do this could be reflecting on what you don’t want, that way it will get a little easier to follow what you want for yourself. In order to have your own best interest at heart, you’ll need to dig deep and be honest with yourself. Be selective of the people you surround yourself with, the situations you allow yourself to be part of, the environments where you spend your time. You won’t be able to count on family, friends, significant others and work colleagues to have your best interest at heart because most of them are too busy to chase their own interests. So it’s important for you to do the same.

Voice your opinions

It took me years, years I tell ya, to start voicing my opinions. This is because the environment I grew up in never empowered me to have an opinion in the first place. However, the first step for me was to start voicing my opinions in writing on my first blog back when I was a teenager - that’s where I said the things I didn’t have the courage to say out loud. A few years later, I was forced by University course assignments to start saying what I think. After a while, I managed to start saying what I think at work even if it wasn’t necessarily encouraged to do so. A beneficial factor for me starting to voice my opinion more and become even closer to being the most “my own person” that I’ve ever been - was having a significant other who has my best interest at heart, and empowered me to be my true self. You can find such support in other types of relationships, it doesn’t have to be a significant other. At some point I became tired of my own bullshit - by which means tired of the unsaid things that were imploding inside me and I couldn’t bear it anymore so I started to speak up more - with my family, with my friends, at work, and with friends of friends (I was already voicing my opinions at home, just not so much in public).

The key to voicing your opinions is to just start doing it. Take any little opportunity you get and practice, practice, practice. Lady at the bakery gave you the wrong type of bread? Say it! Your work colleague is a jackass? Say it! Don’t want to go out? Say it! Not being paid enough? Say it! Think of it like this: saying what you think might be uncomfortable for 10 mins, but it passes away. Sucking it up, however, can force you to take a commitment or be in a shitty position that you don’t want for hours, days, years! So 10 minutes of feeling like crap sounds good in hindsight, right?

Set Personal Boundaries

Boundaries are key for maintaining healthy relationships with people and set clear guidelines of how you want, and need, to be treated.

Most people will walk all over you no matter what relationship you have with them - that is, if you let them. It might take you some time to figure out what your boundaries are but rest assured, life experiences will highlight them for you, just pay attention. For example, back in the day I had no clue that when someone’s actions or words made me feel bad about myself and worthless, it actually meant that they crossed my personal boundaries. It won’t always be clear as day that someone is doing this to you, or they might not even realise it, but either way - if as a result you feel like shit it’s time to take action. In a sense, it’s like taking your power and self-worth back from those who are trying to take it away from you.

My personal boundaries, to name a few, resulted from being sick and tired of the following: not respecting me/my work/my time, taking me or my kindness for granted, toxic family ties, ageism, sexism, being unprofessional or unethical.  Now, when you feel like you need to set some boundaries with certain people, here are my top three ways of setting boundaries:

Reduce contact with family/old friends when: trying to reinforce inexistent boundaries might not be met with openness or the mental ability to comprehend what you are trying to communicate.

Cut people out of your life when they’re energy vampires/soul sucking friends/lovers: With a lovely touch of toxicity, these people might have been all lovely at first until you got to know them better and vice versa. Now, you just feel like a brainwashed puppet that allows them to suck the life out of you and walk all over you.

Ghosting (not ideal, but necessary sometimes) - when reducing contact or cutting people out of your life doesn’t work, the last option standing is ghosting them. To me, ghosting is not something aligned with my values and ethics. However, I do think it’s necessary for self preservation at times.

Accept your imperfections

There are many things you can change about yourself if you work hard enough. However, there are also many things you can’t change. A few of my imperfections include: taking things personal, being too nice, too obsessed with being professional and doing the right thing, too sensitive, an overthinker with high levels of anxiety. To you, most of these things might not seem like imperfections, but to me they are because these imperfections get my feelings hurt a lot and make me feel stupid and bad about myself. But the good thing is: once you accept and acknowledge your imperfections, it can get better. Not accepting these things about yourself and fighting your own self is just like lying to yourself. And when you lie to yourself, you’re lying to everyone around you - and let me tell you, people will see right through your bullshit. Are you a whiny bitch? Are you a pushover? A passive aggressive person?  Embrace it! When you get tired of your own bullshit, the motivation to do something will kick in. Of course, it’s not enough to embrace your imperfections, you have to also figure out how to change the outcome of the situation you dragged yourself into because of the way you are. Set boundaries, remove people from your life if they bring out the worst in you or make you feel bad about yourself. Extract yourself from environments and situations that are toxic for you and it will be easier to accept who you are without these distractions.

Bring out your fashion more

I’m a very visual person in the sense that what I see in the mirror influences my mood.  I’m also anxious and don’t exude self confidence 24/7. This is why makeup, the color of my hair, grooming and clothes are a way to express myself and a reminder of who I am (in case I forget, you know). All these serve like armor and war paint before I get out of the house and face the day. No matter how anxious or stressed out I get, on the verge of tears from bottled anger - I know that when I look at myself in a toilet mirror I’ll be reminded that I’m 100% that bitch. There are months when I’m so exhausted and burnt out that I can’t muster the energy to get all glammed up - but I still make sure I have something on me to bring me down to earth. No matter what gender you are, if you are into fashion, hairstyling, make-up or not - there must be something you can wear that makes you feel pretty damn awesome about yourself.  

Get to know yourself better

You don’t get up one morning and discover that you found out everything about yourself. Oh, no! This is a lifelong project. However, there are many ways you can find out the good and the bad things about yourself - introspection, analysing what you are good and bad at, hearing what people who see through your bullshit say, reviews of your work etc. Sure, it’s nice when people compliment you, and it hurts when they criticize you. But I think we are not 100% the way we see ourselves, nor how others see us. When people comment, there is always a little of them projecting their qualities or imperfections on you and subjectivity involved. In my opinion, the truth is somewhere in the middle. As long as you keep yourself grounded and not underestimate yourself or go full on hubris - you’ll get a pretty good sense of who you are at this point of your life.

Love and trust yourself

When I had zero self-confidence, I thought this idea was utter bullshit. Are you saying I am not a worthless piece of crap without talent like my step mother told me I am? Get outta here!

For years I had moments where I thought “that’s it! From this moment on, I love myself, I trust myself, I am confident” and bam! 2 hours later I still wasn’t any of these things. Because it’s not a decision you make on the spot, it’s a chain of actions, of setting boundaries and having experiences that teach you to stand up for yourself that get you to the level of wisdom that enables you to start loving, trusting, respecting and believing in yourself. For years, I let my power in the hands of others. I let others decide if I am worthy of respect, of trust, of being loved, of being trusted. But if you don’t feel or believe these things about yourself, why would others? In my case, I realised that I have to find my worth in other places. Not in the opinion of others, not in my skills and the results of my hard work - but in my own damn self.

After many failures and getting to the point where it affected my mental health and wellbeing, I realised that actually I do know my shit, I do have a lot of potential, I do deserve a good salary.  Actions speak louder than words - and it will take a long time for you to start feeling this way about yourself - so until then, you can just act and present yourself in a manner that shows that you know what you can do, you have an idea of who you are and what you can do. Yes, a little “fake it until you make it” attitude can help you.  Other people’s mean comments will still hurt - but deep inside, you will know the truth. When they go low, you go high. And slowly but surely, you will take your power back.

Learn to say NO

It might sound like it’s easy to say NO, but in reality, it can be a hard thing to do especially if you’re not used to it. Looking back, it’s astonishing to me on how many occasions I would have been better off if I would have been honest and said NO. This skill is detrimental for your survival and wellbeing, because sometimes you’ll have to put your foot down and say NO. Agreeing to every request might be easier in the moment, but you know you’ll hate yourself afterwards for juggling a million things with no time for yourself just because you couldn’t say one damn word - NO! In your head, this could come off as uncaring or selfish because it means letting some people down, causing them to dislike you for it or be criticized. There is however an upside to this: you’ll gain some respect for yourself and set some boundaries.  Just because you made a commitment in the heat of the moment, it doesn’t mean you need to actually follow it through. You can change your mind and graciously remove yourself from the commitment you made - if you also add a little heartfelt honesty in there most people will appreciate it. As I’m a recovering pushover and YES woman, I still don’t master saying NO but I work on it every chance I get. When I’m not caught off guard, I say “I’ll think about it and get back to you”. If however I am taken by surprise, I might agree on the spot and decline later when I realize that I actually don’t want to do something or I can’t because I have no time for it.

Sometimes I still go ahead with things I don’t want to do because I want to help others or get outside my comfort zone - but that is something that I am willing to take responsibility for. No matter why you decide to not say NO, make sure you are at peace with this compromise, for the right reasons.

Understand your values and stand by them

You see, I understand my values and I stand by them as much as possible. But the reality is, there will be times when you’ll need to compromise a little. I mostly experienced this on a professional level. Values are in essence rules of conduct you live by - but there will be situations with some people where you will never win. In your personal life it’s slightly easier because you can cut people out of your life, reduce contact with them or ghost them. But at work you might be forced to collaborate with people that make your life a living hell - passive aggressive, selfish, ego-centered assholes, “cult leaders”, people that do the bare minimum and don’t care how it affects others. So it’s important to stand by who you are whilst still being able to adapt to working with toxic people that won’t give a shit about your values and boundaries - yay! Welcome to adulthood.

Don’t be selfish and ego-centered

Newsflash! Not everything is about you! It’s ok to be selfish and ego-centered when it comes to your self-preservation and wellbeing, as long as you don’t shove this down everyone’s throat. These traits come off in a negative light when you can’t have a proper conversation with someone because they make any topic about themselves and their experiences 24/7. Don’t get me wrong, I too talk about myself with people but it’s one thing to share a story and another to not even listen to what people are saying and constantly wait for a cue to talk about yourself. I think this occurs when you have no life outside school or work - and I’ve been this person, not gonna lie. The funny thing is that I had zero confidence in myself but still came off as a selfish ego-centered bitch based on this behaviour. So try not to be selfish and ego-centered to the point where no one wants to ever talk to you again.

Conclusion

Becoming your own person takes a lot of work, resources and time. However, it’s one of the best investments in yourself that you can ever make. It not only improves your life both on a personal and professional level, but it opens doors to new friendships and new opportunities. Remember: staying true to yourself is a journey, not a destination. Have a great trip! ✨

14 Days of College AUs!

Pairing: Schoolmate! Mark Tuan x Freshman Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: While sitting to study for an upcoming test a certain noise keeps bothering you. It has been for weeks. Finally, you decide to take a trip to the room upstairs to deal with it.

Word Count: ~ 1350 words

A/N: @yvixtrae​, I love you home skillet biscuit.

You sighed softly as a soft pitter patter sound reached your ears, how were you supposed to study when it kept distracting you every time you were just getting engrossed in the material in front of you? Looking over at the clock you realize that you’ve been sitting at your desk for twenty minutes already and had only accomplished opening your book and pulling your blank notecards out of the plastic bag they were in.

‘This isn’t working,’ You think to yourself as you stand up, ‘If I just do it once, then I can study with no problems right? If I do it then I can get it out of my mind, right?’

You pull the sleeves of your sweater down and run your fingers through your hair to flatten the stray strands into place as you walk to the door. You take a left heading through the door at the end of the hallway to the stairwell and head upstairs. Fiddling with the red fabric around your knuckles you take a deep breath, your destination drawing closer. When you come to a stop in front of the door to the room you needed to visit, your shoulders tense and for a moment you contemplate returning back to your dorm room. If you just put in headphones you wouldn’t need to embarrass yourself this way, right?

Against your better judgement you put your hand out, rapping your knuckles against the door in order to gain the attention of the room’s attendants. You freeze when you hear footsteps and the same pitter patter sound that you kept you from studying growing louder as it came your way. The door opened to a brunette boy and as you scanned him, your eyes found their way down to the floor, seeing the reason you had come upstairs. A dog. Pure white and oh so beautiful. The cutie that had been distracting you not only today but for the last two weeks was a tiny dog.

“Hey, did you need something?” The brunette man in front of you prompts you. You whip your head up to face him and smile softly.

“This is a really weird situation, I’m sorry, but I’ve been trying to study and I keep hearing your dog run around,” You mumble, looking away, trying to push down the heat that was steadily making its way onto your cheeks, the embarrassment was causing you to blush. You were just hoping that he didn’t take it the wrong way, you weren’t exactly nervous because of him, but the fact that he was prettier than you definitely isn’t helping the situation either.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll calm her down and make sure she does-” You put your hands up, shaking them in time with your head, panic rising as you pictured him shutting the door and you never meeting the precious angel at your feet.

“No, no, no. That’s not it! I came upstairs to… askifIcanpetyourdog,” You say quickly. A deep chuckle is heard and you raise your gaze to his.

“Oh, what was that again?” The guy asks, trying to hold a smile back.

“I really, really, really want to pet your dog. I keep telling myself that if I pet the dog then I can focus on studying. I can’t focus knowing there’s a dog I’ve never pet living right above me, not even that far away, just waiting to be pet,” You pout as you look back down at the cute small dog that had decided to sniff your sock covered toes.

“Sure, come on in. I just wanted to hear you admit that you walked up to a stranger’s door because you wanted pet their dog. Her name is Coco, by the way and I’m Mark,” You smile widely and step into the room, settling yourself on the floor, letting Coco comes to you naturally instead of forcing yourself on her. You didn’t want to scare her away, after all she was the whole reason you stepped out of your comfort zone in the first place. After an awkward ten minutes of you getting to know Coco, you clear your throat trying to fill the silent air before striking up a conversation with Mark. How could you come to pet his dog and pay no attention to him, what kind of person would that make you?

“I’m Y/N. It’s my first year in this dorm, are you new too?” You ask as you pet Coco lightly.

“To this dorm? Yes. To the school? No. I lived in a different building last year,” Mark responds, sitting on the edge of his bed as he watched Coco roll over onto her back in your lap. You scratched her belly gently and patted it tenderly so as not to hurt her.

“Oh, that’s cool. What are you studying?” You query, letting your eyes move from Coco to Mark. You take in his relaxed form as he leans forward, his chin resting on his palm. His eyes roam you and Coco. Every time his eyes land on her they light up just a little and you can’t help but smile at how happy she makes him. He sits up when he realizes that you’ve just spoken to him, you see the look of frustration as he tries to pull what you said back to the forefront of his mind. After letting him suffer for a moment, you repeat your question and he nods lightly.

“Oh, uh, it’s kind of boring but I’m studying actuarial science…” Mark’s voice trails off as he turns, pulling his feet up into the bed. You hesitate for a second as you try to remember exactly what that consists of, realization hits you and it’s like a light bulb goes off over your head.

“Ah, like, profits and losses, right? Risks for business? It’s pretty much just math, isn’t it?” You lean down, kissing Coco’s nose before sitting back up.

“Yeah, I actually like math and I’m pretty good at it. I’m surprised you actually know what my major is, most people think it’s related to horses.”

“Like, equestrian? That’s great. I can understand it, I guess, if you don’t actually know what either word means,” You stand up holding Coco in your arms tightly so you don’t drop her.

“Yeah, what about you? Do you know what you want to study yet?” Mark returns your question reaching up to pet Coco’s chin before taking her from your arms and sitting her in his lap.

“Oh, well mine isn’t very fun either but I’m studying to get an English degree. Shakespeare stole my heart in high school and I haven’t been able to get it back ever since,” You joke, fixing your disheveled sweater, Mark smiles at you as he lets Coco sit on the bed, “I should go though, I need to study for my test in a couple of days. Thanks for letting me love on your dog for a little while though.”

“No problem, if you ever find yourself needing someone to give attention to Coco would greatly appreciate it,” Mark says, getting up to escort you to the door, “Maybe next time you could come up and we could hang out or go eat or something.”

“I would love that. I could use a friend. I haven’t met anyone aside from my roommate.”

“Then you can consider me your first friend that you’ve made outside of the room you live in.”

“Cool, thank you. I’m sure I’ll see you later, but have a good rest of your night, Mark.”

“Yeah, you too, Y/N. I hope your test goes well.”

You begin the short trek back to your room with a warm feeling in your chest and a huge smile on your face. Your will to study was suddenly alive and burning brightly. How could it not be? You pet the cutest little dog on the face of the planet and met Mark, who you were sure was going to be your new best friend.

Ghost of you

gif made by @i-am-today-we-will-survive

A/n: Hey guys I’m still alive 😂 I’ve been trying to work on this Jin fic but am severely lacking inspo. I think I’ve tried writing three different plots so far. Anyways, here’s my very first fic I put up here but took down. Shoutout if you remember this from back when I was an unofficial bts blog. Also Shay encouraged me to repost this

Pairing: any bts member x reader (you choose) 

Warnings: death, drinking, hallucinations (is that a trigger? idk better be safe than sorry)

genre: angst (Listen to boy meets evil and ghost of you by 5sos if you really wanna feel the angst. Those were on repeat when I wrote this)

word count: 1.3k 

Summary: The love of your life is gone. The days pass by slowly one after the other, all just a blur in your mind. Everything hurts until you get an unexpected visit from the last person you thought you’d see.

Buried under blankets I was warm; however nothing could compare to the warmth of being in his arms. He always claimed that I made him too hot, but that never stopped him from pulling me close. I felt safest there, in a world solely our own. The sun was the soft smile he gave me when I caught him staring and gravity was his arms wrapped tightly around me keeping me from getting lost in my hectic reality. The blankets replaced the warmth, but I found nothing could replace the emptiness in my chest, which was previously constantly swelling with adoration. I tried filling the void with liquor like my friends suggested, however, the bitterness of the alcohol matched the bitterness I felt when I woke up. I then turned to ice cream, crying over pint after pint but soon turned away from its momentary comfort. It was too sweet. I missed the occasional salty taste of an argument that kept our love thriving as we learned to work through our problems. I then tried to replace him with people except that didn’t work either. I often found myself making comparisons in the back of my mind. It would be over little things though, like how his eyes shown brighter in the dim light of a street lamp or how he had a scar on the top of his thumb from the time he tried to cook breakfast but burned himself on the stove. I realized then that it’s the little things that mean the most to you. The way his gaze always softened when we made eye contact even if he was pissed at me, how whenever he lied he scrunched his nose slightly, and how he couldn’t wink to save his life. They were all insignificant idiosyncrasies to everyone else, but to me they made me love him even more. 

As I moved on from person to person, I realized that I was looking for others to have these traits. I was looking for someone whose eyes resembled fall when caught in the sun, someone who ran to greet every dog they saw on the street; I was looking for him. Upon this realization I felt myself spiraling down the pit of despair because he could never be mine again. 

I felt darkness surround me the same way it clouded my heart. It was suffocating and I scratched my throat raw just trying to breathe. My body shook against its hold as panic seeped its way into my veins. My heart sped up to try and combat against my sadness but it quickly gave up.  The sadness crashed over me, sending my body toppling to the ground where I stayed submerged in its depths. It acted as a cloak, surrounding me entirely to the point where I could no longer see the light. I woke up sprawled across the floor of my bathroom looking around for the empty bottle that was almost a given. However instead of a bottle I found a bunch of forget-me-nots. The petals were wilted and droopy, resembling what was left of my heart. I clutched onto them as if they were my lifeline, like they were defibrillators. Maybe they could restart my life the same way they restart hearts? A tear fell down on the floor and the quiet ping as it landed on the tile startled me from my jumbled thoughts. Looking up, I let out a shrill scream meeting a pair of familiar eyes. They still looked the same, however, now the fall in them contrasted with the spring outside. My breath hitched because I knew it wasn’t possible. The last time I looked into those eyes they matched the world outside; their warm hues mimicking the oranges, yellows, and browns of autumn. “What are you doing here?” My voice cracked even though it was barley above a whisper. He grabbed my hand in response and only then did I notice they were shaking. “I came here for you.” His sunshine smile was now dim, resembling a flicker of a light rather than a star. “It’s… It’s been so long.” I’d always dreamt of seeing him again but like a cliche I had no words. “I know. You were supposed to forget me by now.” He forced a laugh but the noise was strangled. “I could never. I love you too much.” My chest ached and I tried to get rid of the pressure by taking a deep breath but the attempt was futile. Instead I choked on a sob and my body shuddered trying to suppress it. “Dance with me?” “To what?” “Our song.” I don’t think he’s realized I haven’t listened to it since that day. The once calming melody now makes my pulse race and my heart break over thoughts of unfulfilled promises. “Baby?” “Oh- okay.” Palms sweaty I was almost reluctant to place my hands in his. I didn’t want him to know how much I was struggling. How instead of finding comfort in him I was only waiting anxiously for him to leave again. My phone crackled to life and began to play our song through the speaker. I squeezed my eyes shut to try and block out the tears. Even if he wasn’t really here, I didn’t want our last memory to be plagued by me. He gently took my hand and pulled me up, spinning us around the house. He’s always been a good dancer, was even majoring in it at university. I found myself getting lost in everything that was him. His touch, his smile, even the faint smell of his favorite cologne. The song ended and he pulled away quickly. “I need you to move on baby. I need you to let me go.” Winter seemed to set in in his eyes as they grew cold but I knew he was only trying to be strong. “I can’t. I still love you. What about-“ he cut me off before I could finish my panicked rambling. Maybe if I kept talking he wouldn’t fade away? “No buts baby. It’s time.” His eyes softened as mine watered and I could feel myself breaking all over again. He sighed before pulling me against his chest and rocking me back and forth. He hummed lightly, knowing I get distracted by his voice. I’ve never met anyone with so many talents, seeing as he was good at basically everything. When I stopped sniffling he pulled away and stared into my eyes again like he was trying to do something. What exactly I’ll never know. When his plan didn’t work he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I love you. Always have always will.” He said and before I could say anything back he kissed me. Behind my closed eyelids I saw every moment we’d ever had together. First date, first kiss, first everything. The memories were both good and bad and after each one ended I felt lighter and lighter. After the last memory of the day he died played I couldn’t feel anything. He pulled away after that giving me a sad smile. “I’ll be waiting for you on the other side. For now live your life without me baby.” “What- what did you do?” I was confused. I knew both did and didn't know who he was at the same time. “I made you forget me for now. You’ll remember me later when it matters the most, but for now I need you to live.” He stroked my cheek lovingly before taking a step back. “I love you.” Then he disappeared into thin air. I blinked a few times before looking around. What was I doing? I must’ve zoned out. Taking a deep breath I noticed I felt empty again. The feeling was familiar but I couldn’t remember why.

Course Credit

WestAllen for the prompt, “Person A is studying a major in art & takes a life drawing class. Person B is one of the nude models. Person A has trouble concentrating/keeps erasing their drawings, not because Person B is naked, but because they’re a neighbor & Person A already has a crush on them. Bonus: Person B is either oblivious or is aware of Person A being flustered. Bonus 2: Person A works up the nerve to ask them out after class. Bonus 3: Person B tries to see Person A’s sketches. You decide how Person A responds.” 

Barry Allen gathers his sketchpad and charcoal pencil collection in preparation for his walk to Central City University’s studio. As a fine arts student, he loved nothing more than being afforded the privilege of attending a school that valued its liberal arts and humanities programs just as much as its STEM ones. He didn’t think he’d have been able to bear being greeted with disapproving eyes any time he introduced himself and his major otherwise, an occurrence that was far too often whenever he revealed his studies to certain relatives or former high school classmates, even when he explained his desire to work as a forensic artist. Luckily enough, CCU was the perfect utopic institution where the two disciplines coincided with mutual respect, where he could vibe well with his mechanical engineering major roommate Cisco Ramon, and even strike up a close friendship with him. 

For some time now, he’s anticipated this assignment for ART 236, Anatomy and Figure Drawing, a drawing elective. When deciding between electives, he knew registering for this particular course was an obvious necessity considering his career goals. Even if his goals changed, it would allow him to step out of his comfort zone of computer graphic design, and he owed it to himself to take advantage of as many opportunities as he could to expand his graduation prospects. It would speak to his skillset if his portfolio included a wide array of images and techniques. 

Today’s project has him slightly nervous because it was the first time he was working with a live model. In class, they were moving past drawing from photographic references and onto actual living, breathing people. 

Nude people. 

He knew he had opted to get himself into these circumstances and that his choice of career could likely have him recreating naked bodies for the rest of his life, but the initial awkwardness of it all was still an obstacle he was going to have to overcome. To ease the discomfort, his professor, Dr. Wells, had each student list their availability at the beginning of the semester to be matched with a model for a private drawing session in the studio. Dr. Wells insisted that one-on-one sessions would allow for maximum concentration and leave no room for anything else, but Barry would rather at least a second student be working adjacently. Caitlin Snow, his TA, would be present in the office next door if assistance was needed, so he did feel a sense of relief that he wouldn’t be entirely alone with a naked stranger. 

Hopefully, he would grow accustomed to it sooner rather than later so that his focus could be entirely on producing the best image. He didn’t want his nerves to affect the quality of his drawing, or a more frivolous desire, the chance to secure another A on his transcript. Of course, Barry was aware that artistic talent could not be quantified in grades, but he was still proud of his perfect grade point average and had aspirations to graduate with honors.  

The trip to the studio is a short one from his dormitory. Barry checks the time on his phone, and in a panic, sees that it’s 10:08 AM. He was already late to his meeting with the model, and he still had to check his phone in with Caitlin and go over paperwork with her before entering the studio. He curses himself for adding unnecessary stress to a situation he was already apprehensive about and rushes quickly into Caitlin’s office.

“Barry,” Caitlin greets flatly. “You’re late.”

“I know, I know,” Barry acknowledges. Caitlin was a fellow art major, though on a premed track. When she introduced herself during the first day of class, she described this course as the perfect blend of her anatomic and artistic interests, which was why she applied to be a teaching assistant. She was a good one, but she was quite strict and cold, and evidently had a habit of bluntly stating truths, most especially when they least needed to be heard. 

Still, he knows her assessment of him is a factor in his overall grade, so he forces a smile and an apology. 

“You may be a fast drawer who impresses Dr. Wells-and myself,” Caitlin admits, almost reluctantly. “But you should still be mindful of my time and the time of your model.” 

Barry’s stomach sinks at her reproach, despite her compliment. It was true that he had garnered praise for how quickly he worked compared to his classmates, even earning himself a fond nickname, “Flash”, but that still didn’t mean he wanted to be thought of as irresponsible. 

Caitlin seals his phone into a security baggie and has him review and sign the College of Art and Design’s non-harassment policy, as well as its student rules and guidelines for figure modeling sessions. 

“I’m here if you have any questions,” she concludes. 

“Got it,” Barry nods, anxious to get started. He makes his way down the hall, hoping the piece he produced could make up for Caitlin’s dissatisfaction with him. 

He pulls the studio door aside, ready to greet his subject, his apology for his tardiness already on his tongue-

He slams the door back shut again as soon as he’d opened it, hardly believing who stood in the room. He half wanted to open it again to check his eyes weren’t deceiving him, but he feared letting it fall closed a second time once he got confirmation that it was indeed her and embarrassing himself even further. 

Forget graduating with honors: he was going to fail this class entirely. 

Caitlin must have heard the door slam, because she peeks her head outside the office to see what the source of the noise had been. 

“Is there a reason you’re not inside the studio already?” she interrogates. “I have an Orgo exam later you know-” 

“I can’t do this,” Barry blurts, without even an attempt at pretense. 

Caitlin frowns. “Why? Are you uncomfortable or something?”

Barry decides to go with that excuse, given that it wasn’t entirely false: “Yes.” 

She stares at him. 

“This is an elective course, one that you opted to take. You JUST signed a form promising that you understand what’s expected of you.”

“I did,” Barry gulps. “But-”

Caitlin sighs. 

“Look, Barry-don’t you think I’m also going to be a little uncomfortable the first time I have to examine a naked patient?” she states matter-of-factly, as though medical school admission were guaranteed in her future. “You’ll get used to it.”

“You don’t understand!” Barry cries, near hysteria now. “I didn’t realize that-that-”

“That this assignment is worth thirty percent of your final grade?” she suggests, brows raised.

She was right. There was no option besides following through with the situation at hand. If he left, he would receive a zero, and if he asked for another model, that would certainly raise suspicion. Worst of all, it might offend her, and that wasn’t exactly the best thing to do to someone he admired, someone he wanted to love, someone whose affection he dreamed about…

Mortified, Barry swallows again to compose himself and opens the studio door for a second time, coming face-to-face with his crush, Iris West, wearing nothing but a robe and an expression of confusion. 

“Are you the ART 236 student?” she asks immediately. “Barry Allen?”

“That’s me!” Barry chirps, despite breaking out into a sweat. 

Iris relaxes visibly. “Thank God. I was beginning to wonder if I came on the wrong day.”

If only you did, Barry wishes. He would almost rather draw a naked Dr. Wells than go through with this.

“Why did you come in and then sprint out?” she probes, furrowing her brows. 

Barry's pulse pounds loudly in his ears. He should have known that Iris wasn't going to let him off the hook easily.

“Oh-uhhh-I had to use the bathroom,” he lies, before realizing that presenting himself as someone who put off bathroom use to the point of barely containing himself wasn't quite attractive. 

Nonetheless, Iris accepts his explanation as sufficient and seemingly moves on to the next rational step of their meeting, introducing herself.

“I'm Iris West," she states, beaming up at him with her signature smile that confirmed she was indeed the one and only.

"I know," he replies, smiling back instinctively. His grin vanishes however once he realizes Iris isn't exactly aware he knows who she is. 

Sure enough, his fear is validated. 

"You know me?" she questions. 

“Uh-uh-” Barry stammers again, wondering how possibly he was going to explain himself without coming off as a creep. He can't believe the deeper hole he's managed to dig himself into. 

"We-we took a Gen-Ed course together actually," he confesses, hoping that would seem more normal than he'd convinced himself it wasn’t. 

To his surprise, Iris doesn't seem disturbed by his recollection of her, despite how large the student population was. On the contrary, she appears thoughtful. 

“What course was that?" she inquires. “I feel like I would have remembered you.”

At that, Barry's heart flutters. Why would she have remembered him? Would he have left a positive or less-than-stellar impression on her?

He decides to take his chance at answering that question, letting her make the judgement lest he torment himself further. 

"It was PSYC 100,” he explains. “I was pretty quiet in class, but I just-remember you always answering questions and leading discussions.”

That much was true, as it was the first time he had been made aware of her, in all her drive, intelligence, and beauty, but he leaves that part out.

"Hmmm," Iris considers, before perking up. "Well, I'm sorry that I can’t remember you, but all that means is that I get a second chance to get to know you now to remember you later, right?”

Barry blinks before an easy smile takes over his face. That was such a nice thing to say. It didn't surprise him that Iris was as sweet as she was beautiful. Maybe he had won the jackpot in being assigned to her for the chance to get to know her better. How else was he ever going to otherwise? Catching glimpses of her at random spots on campus? Reading her articles in the student paper? Clicking her profile on Facebook?

His optimism is short-lived though, as she tugs onto the belt of her robe, reminding him that she was completely nude underneath and that this situation was far from how he wanted to become more acquainted with her. 

"So," she bubbles. "Are you ready to start?”

There was no way he would ever be ready, but Barry has no choice but to brace himself and nod yes.

Wordlessly, and with such ease, as though she were alone, Iris slips her robe over her shoulders and lets it drop to the floor. Barry silently thanks whoever had placed the chair in the room in the spot it was at, otherwise he might have collapsed instead of stumble into it out of sheer mesmerization.

His throat goes dry as he takes her in fully, certain that any high score he earns for this assignment would rightfully be attributed to her rather than his technique. Alternatively, he could completely botch the entire thing due to an inability to keep his cool around such beauty.

He had known ever since he first laid eyes on her that she was beautiful, but nothing could have prepared him for just how exquisite she would be unveiled. The first thing he takes note of after her allure is how much more petite she seems nude. Without the enhancements of shoes or clothes, her true height is apparent. She has a chiseled collarbone that Barry isn’t sure he can sculpt with his charcoal. He had practiced drawing breasts of varying shapes and sizes from photographs over the course of the semester, but he’s never seen a pair suspended from a chest as gracefully as hers. As they make contact with the cool air, her nipples animate before his eyes, and he’s suddenly overcome with the thrill of the challenge in capturing their pebbling with a still image.  

His gaze follows the contour of her waist that gives way to her rounded hips, then her supple thighs, between them a matte of dark curls whose texture he’s already itching to replicate. Even her feet and hands strike him, despite weeks of browsing and sketching from photos upon photos of different human appendages.

His only regret in looking at her was that he was duplicating her in black, white, and grey, because he'd love nothing more than to paint the vivid brown of her skin or the soft pink of her lips. A portrait devoid of her coloring wasn’t an accurate representation of how commanding a subject she was.

Unfortunately, while his eyes recognize her beauty, so does his body, and he registers that his gaze upon her triggers his pulse, which prompts his own anatomy. 

Fuck.

Barry crosses his legs and clears his throat, setting his sketchbook on his lap. Thankfully, he snaps out of his daze the moment he does, because Iris had been trying to get his attention all while he was ogling her. 

"You alright?" she inquires. “You've been staring at me for a while now.”

Barry adds that to the growing list of ways he's been giving himself away today. 

"Oh, haha," he fumbles. “Sorry, just an artist thing. We tend to-study our subjects intently,” he bullshits. “You know, so that we can do the best job possible. It’s easy to get caught up sometimes, especially when they're beautiful-I mean, not beautiful-I mean, you ARE beautiful-”

Iris smirks. “Let’s get to it?”

Yes. The less he spoke the better.

"How do you want me to pose?" 

“Right.” Barry could deal with logistics. He rummages through his sketchbook, to show her a photograph of a figure sprawled across a couch, arms spread out carelessly above her, ankles slack beneath her. “This is the pose my professor wants us to recreate.”

“That’s a relief,” Iris breathes. “I was worried I was going to have to stand on my head or something.”

“No, no,” Barry assures her. “This is a beginners’ assignment, so he just wants us to get the hang of  structure and shading and proportions for now before we move on to more complicated poses.”

Iris settles down onto the couch and leans back, raising her wrists above her head so that they dangle off of the arm rest. Her legs follow suit on the sofa’s other end.

“Is this okay?”

Barry takes a deep breath. Seeing her spread out and on blatant display under quality lighting was even more glorious. His dick twitches at the vision.

“It's perfect,” he manages. 

He commences his sketching like he typically does, positioning vertical and horizontal lines in strategic locations on the page to scale the image. His next step is to lightly trace shapes to represent different body parts, but just as Barry puts his pencil tip to the paper to draw an oval, he hesitates. 

It doesn’t feel proper to craft a body as beautiful as Iris's from basic shapes. She’s too ethereal to arise from simple figures. Suddenly he wants to try to emulate her as intricately and as meticulously as he can, fashioning her from head to toe. It would take him longer than he’s used to, especially considering his "Flash" status, but he owes it to Iris to capture her as best he can, even if Caitlin isn’t going be too pleased with him. 

He hopes she’d studied enough for her exam later.

"Why are you taking out a fresh sheet of paper?" Iris wonders, a smile quirking her lips. “Am I harder to draw than you thought?”

You have no idea, Barry muses truthfully, but he’s also honest when he replies, "Wanna make sure I get you down in a way that does you justice.”

Iris's smile widens, and the image of her lounging elegantly while her eyes sparkle at him has his dick straining in his pants. He squeezes his thighs together tightly and does his best to concentrate on his work. 

“So, what year are you?" Iris asks, her tone singsongy. 

“I'm a sophomore," Barry answers, tracing an outline of her silhouette. 

“Me too!” she gushes. Barry tries not to let himself feel too roused at her enthusiasm. "Art major?"

Barry connects the ends of Iris’s profile together. 

“How’d you know?” he jokes, trying to make her laugh before self-consciously following his attempt to be funny with a, “You?” He was eager to know everything about her after all. 

"I'm undecided," Iris states. "But it's a toss between psychology and journalism." 

Barry bobs his head thoughtfully, now shading under the neck of his figure to highlight the angle of Iris’s chin. 

"Both valuable in their own right." 

"So is art," Iris remarks. "If only more people in the world thought so." 

“Yeah," Barry agrees, pleased that she not only was accepting of his studies, but critical of the society that wasn’t. "I actually have a career plan that’s more ‘practical' as they say, but even if I didn’t, I still would study art. It’s what I love.”

"And that's all that matters," Iris comments warmly, and Barry’s surprised to be more moved by her support and approval than he’s ever been by anyone else’s, even his parents and friends.

"I wish I were more artistically inclined,” she sighs. 

You are art, Barry wants to say, but instead he grasps another opportunity to compliment her. 

"Well, I wish I had your writing skills," he says, meaning it.

Iris perks up, shifting slightly. “You-read my articles?" she asks incredulously. “In the student paper?”

“Ahhh wait-can you go back to how you were,” Barry snickers, finding her excitement endearingly adorable.

“Oops, sorry about that.” Iris settles back into her pose. "I just can’t believe that people actually read what I write in CCU Local. I love researching and reporting, but I was worried about joining the paper here because CCU's journalism program isn't all that. That's why i'm also considering psychology.”

"I think you have potential in either subject," Barry declares sincerely. “I remember how passionate you seemed in class and I’ve read how thorough your articles are. You have a way with words."

“Thanks,” Iris beams. “It's really nice to know that someone out there is reading my stuff.” 

It falls silent momentarily, and his drawing exerts its relaxing properties on Barry. He finds himself consumed by his piece enough for his initial nerves to ease. The bulge between his legs is still there, but thankfully, isn't as bothersome as it first had been. He'd probably take care of it once he got back to his dorm because as much as he hates to admit it, the tension in his body at the sight of hers is too good not to release.

He’s actually almost done sketching her body so that he’ll be able to progress to her face, surprised at how long it’s taken him to get her down on paper compared to his usual pace, but Iris was deserving of all his attention and effort when it came to her details, from her dainty ankles to the grains of her brows and everything in between.

"I'm surprised I'm not sick of this yet," Iris giggles. “Usually I start to get restless after half an hour, but it's been fun talking to you and watching you work.”

Barry tries not to let that get to his head, particularly the part about watching him. 

"How long have you been working as a figure model?” he asks, hoping to deflect the conversation from himself and exhibit a collected manner. 

"This is only my second semester doing it.”

“Do you like it?” he continues, genuinely curious. 

Iris shrugs. “I guess? It's a side gig that earns me some extra money. You know how crazy expensive this school is.”

Barry nods sympathetically, recognizing that probably nothing could unite him and Iris like the burden of college tuition could. 

“Are you-shy about it?” he wonders, unable to help himself. 

“Not really,” Iris replies practically. “I was a little bit when I first started, but you get used to it the more you do it.”

“That makes sense.”

Iris studies him carefully: “You should think about modeling.”

“Me?” he exclaims, pausing from his work to stare at her, bewildered. “I don’t think I could.”  

“Why not?” Iris challenges. 

“I’d be way too nervous,” he snickers. It was true: he didn't think he could ever possess the valor to strip down naked and be scrutinized. 

“You really do get used to it,” she promises, “but I understand, it’s not for everyone.”

“Yeah,” Barry agrees, seizing the opportunity for humor. “It’s for the better though cause I don't think anyone would be too excited to have to draw me,” he jokes. 

“But you’re beautiful,” Iris says simply. 

Barry nearly ruins his sketch with the jerk of his wrist, his face heating dangerously. Of all the possible responses she could have offered, that was the absolute least one he expected. In fact, it never even would have crossed his mind. 

“Uhhh-thanks, that is-that’s really nice of you to say,” he stutters, knowing his blush was deepening with each word he uttered. “Especially when you yourself look-like that…”

His brain finally figures it’s better to just shut up and his mouth follows suit. He swallows to get a hold of himself, his heart pounding in his ears as he erases the stray mark on the paper with what he hopes is subtlety. If he didn't know any better he would think that Iris was grinning slyly at him, but he doesn't want to consider what those implications could be. She was most likely just teasing him anyway. 

It’s time now for him to draw her face, so he sighs and gets straight to it, knowing this would be the most challenging part of the session. Copying faces was always more difficult for him than anything else, and at the task of duplicating one like Iris’s, he was intimidated even further.

“Okay so, I don’t mean to be commanding or anything, but I’m working on your face now, so I’ll need you to hold a steady expression, which means-”

“No talking?” Iris guesses.

“No talking,” Barry laughs nervously. Perhaps this was better for his sake as well as the the drawing’s. 

“Got it.”

Once silence permeates the studio though, Barry wishes that they could still talk. In the absence of their casual conversation, the setting and situation suddenly take an intimately private turn from the academic, given her nudity, his attraction to her, and her possibly reciprocated attraction to him (???). The atmosphere becomes too muted for his liking, too charged. Most fraught and suggestive of all is how she bores into his soul with that piercing smolder of hers that he has no choice but to keep looking into, not even just briefly, but requiring his fixed attention, as he has to replicate it as best he can. Without being able to speak, their eyes seem to carry on an exchange of their own, one devoid of words and laden with something else. 

He prays desperately that she's oblivious to the reddening of his cheeks because he senses them burning up again as his focus alternates from her face to the page and back again as he crafts the apex of her chin, the bow of her mouth, the circle of her nose. He attempts to animate the zeal in her eyes, the wisp of her lashes, the purse of her brows…

God, she was gorgeous, and this was turning out to be one of his best pieces, perhaps his best simply because she was so. 

He tries not to each time he glances up at her, but when he studies her lips, he contemplates kissing them, and when he studies her nostrils, he pictures their flare in pleasure, and when he studies her pupils, he imagines them gleaming at him with want-

Barry releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been suppressing at the tension accompanying his overwhelming eye contact with her.

“All done.”

“Already?” Iris queries.

“That’s actually the longest I’ve ever taken,” Barry chuckles. “I’m usually much quicker, but…”

“But?” Iris probes. 

“But…I guess I wanted to take my time,” he says, his gaze directly on hers.

Iris blinks at him before sitting up slowly, making her way toward his chair. He notices she doesn’t fetch her robe to wear again.

“Can I see it?” 

He inhales sharply at her towering over him, but tilts his sketchbook so that she can see her portrait. 

“Wow,” she marvels, drawing her own breath in. “It’s beautiful.” 

“You are,” he agrees, subdued.

Their eyes meet, voluntarily this time. Barry feels a bit lightheaded at her proximity, all the nerves he had repressed materializing. Now that he didn’t have his assignment to occupy him, he was gradually slipping back into his daze at the vision of her.

“Can I-use this for my portfolio?” he asks, somewhat to calm himself and somewhat because he really did want to know if he could.

“Of course,” Iris urges, still seemingly stunned over how well he had done. “People need to see how talented you are.” 

“Its all you,” he insists to her once more.

He doesn’t think he can stand being in her presence any longer, not especially with her still naked, making no attempt to dress, and watching him carefully. The crotch of his jeans starts to constrict again.

Barry stands abruptly. 

“We’d better get going,” he announces, hoping this might prompt her to at least put her robe back on.

Iris continues studying him, as if he hadn’t said anything.

“My TA is waiting for us,” Barry tries anew, using Caitlin as a convenient excuse despite not having been considerate of her earlier. “She has an exam later.” 

Still, Iris doesn’t acknowledge what he’s said. Barry shivers, breaking out into a sweat. There was no sketchbook to save him this time, no diversion he could employ. There was only her standing before him in all her glory, refusing to take her eyes off of him. 

“I signed a form that said I would remain professional throughout the entire session,” Barry offers one last time, his last-ditch effort to prevent what his physiology was readying him for.

That finally elicits a response from Iris.

“So did I,” she whispers, and then she’s on him, and any coherent notion outside of her flees Barry. 

He doesn’t know why he stood from the chair in the first place, since Iris was just going to thrust him back into it, kissing him fiercely as she did. Barry makes a noise he’s never made before, startling himself at how helpless he sounds, but it’s fitting considering he’s never lacked defense like this. 

Then again, did he really expect Iris West to not be a force of her own?

“Iris,” he breathes, powerless beneath her as she sucks on his lips in a frenzy. “Iris-God-” 

She bites him at his pulse point, having moved onto his throat, and Barry thinks he might meet God right then and there, wonders if he’s going to make it out of the studio alive. 

Iris surfaces, but not to go any kind of easy on him.

“Let’s make this an even playing field, no?” she coaxes, lifting the hem of his tee past his navel. 

He doubts his own nudity could repair the imbalance between them, but he lets her strip him of his shirt nonetheless. 

“Wish I could trace these on paper,” she huffs, grazing his freckles with her fingertips. Apparently, not being able to fulfill her wish wasn’t going to stop Iris from trying to, and she bends her neck to lick a path across his chest from mole to mole. 

Barry jerks underneath her tongue, at the mercy of her ministrations. 

“Didn’t you-say you wanted an even playing field?” he manages to get out before shuddering at her wet kisses to his skin. 

A cunning smile takes over Iris’s face, and Barry questions if he just signed his death waiver. 

“You’re right,” Iris smirks, fixating on his groin: “We need balance.” 

Before he can prepare himself, she has his fly open in an instant and her palm around his erection.

“This has been ready for me for a while, hasn’t it?” Iris purrs in his ear. Barry swells even further in her hand, his own way of confessing that, indeed, it had.

She wastes no time wrestling his jeans down to his knees. He kicks them off his feet for her, figuring it was the least he could do. There’s already a dark spot expanding through his shorts, seeping outward as if she needed further proof, and if that wasn’t enough, his springing free at her tugging was the last credence.

She eyes his dick hungrily. 

“You ever try to draw this beauty?” she murmurs, wrapping her fingers around him. 

Barry squeezes his eyes shut, hoping he’ll delay the inevitable. 

“No,” he musters, his legs trembling with anticipation. 

Iris laughs. 

“Relax, I’m not going to let you come like this,” she promises, though she rubs his shaft until his head tilts and his jaw drops, all his control forsaken.  

“I just want to treat you like you treated me, to convince you that you’re beautiful,” she tempts. “Like you’re something to be worshipped, something to be admired, something like art…”   

Her voice drops several octaves as she stills her wrist: “Besides, there’s no way this cock is coming anywhere but inside me.” 

“I told you you have a way with words,” Barry manages to choke out, his hips seeking out her movements again while she giggles at his desperation. “But I hate to break it to you-I don’t have a condom.”

Iris actually swears in frustration, apparently choosing to express her dissatisfaction with him by kissing him furiously. Barry recognizes the chance to finally get on equal footing with her. He manages to get her hands off him and pry her own thighs apart, figuring he should apologize for his lack of protection. 

“What are you-hunnnh…” Her mouth parts to break their kiss as he makes bare contact with her skin, his finger passing where she protrudes most.

Barry swears he can only see the white in her eyes before they close, answering to his fingers on her. He spreads her, already dripping impatience, and strokes her like she’s velvet, up and down the curvature of her, around and between the flesh of her, in and out of the cleft of her. 

“Of course you’re good with your hands,” she rasps, her pelvis surging forward, her depraved attempt to to parallel his touch.

“Only when they have a good subject,” he entices her, getting the hang of her game, and he can tell it’s working because she mewls appreciatively. While his fingers soothe her, he licks the skin under her breasts, just at the line where they started, hoping to rival her even further. He’d outlined them in pencil as best he could, but nothing he had created could come close to her texture beneath his tongue, her flush nipples between his lips. 

The fingers fondling her were now coated down to his knuckles.

“Wait,” she breathes, still feverishly grinding into his hand. “Wait-I want your cock.” 

“But-”

She doesn’t give him the chance to finish because before he knows it, her palm is squeezing the head of him against her. 

“Iris,” he sighs, because the feeling is divine, “I wasn’t lying-I don’t have-” 

“It’s okay,” she gasps, sliding up and down until her cunt opens around the length of him, his shaft locked in the thick of her folds. “Just-do like this…”

And they do just that, Iris rolling into him and Barry bucking into her, exchanging breath to whine and moan together, comprising their own unique chorus. She worries him in between her folds, seesawing up and down his cock, and Barry watches her through half-lidded eyes, knowing that no artist could ever capture the image of her like this arching against him, pressing into him, her breasts moving in rhythm to her panting. Perhaps his whole study of art, maybe even the entirety of its discipline and its practice was futile for this reason alone. 

Just when Barry thinks he can no longer hold out, Iris thrusts forward so that the tip of him aligns with clit. She rubs against his skin one more time until she spasms around him, the sensation so sublime that he in turn shoots upward once, twice, and finally for a third time before trickling back onto the floor.  

Barry lays slack against the chair, astounded at what had just occurred. He couldn’t believe he walked into the studio an hour ago to complete an assignment only to be reduced to a post-orgasmic state with Iris West buried into his shoulder. 

“What-just happened?” he vocalizes, because he feels like he needs confirmation that this is real. 

Iris giggles against him. 

“We made a mess,” she jokes, glancing down at the tile. 

Barry tilts his head back to study her, wondering if she had any regrets about what they had done, but when he finds her beaming down at him, it’s hard to stop his mouth from twisting into a slow, satisfied smile, mirroring her own.

“That was-”

“I know,” Iris agrees, making no attempt to conceal her suggestive grin or the lewd wiggle of her brows. 

Barry’s smile takes on a playful hue of its own. “Aren’t you a writer?” he teases. “Shouldn’t you be able to describe what that was?”

“Yeah, well, some things render you speechless,” she replies haughtily, eyeing his lips before bending forward to take them in her own. Barry smirks at her wit, opening his mouth to accept her kiss-

A pounding on the door startles them apart.

“What are you two still doing in there?!” Caitlin’s muffled voice demands. “I’m going to be late for my exam!” 

It’s then that Barry realizes he very likely may have just lost his chance to earn an A on this assignment, but as he and Iris chuckle together and dress each other, all he can conclude is that she had absolutely been worth it. 

Author’s notes: This is only my second AU, and again, Barry is an artist 😂 @cygnetofthesea asked if I could do this literally months ago. I don’t typically do prompts (probably because they take me that long loll), but I did give this one a shot. I hate my ending, as usual, but I hope you enjoyed!