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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

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‘Tis The Damn Season: Chapter Two

pairing: marcus pike x f!ofc (Nathalie Moss)

chapter rating: M (talks of panic attacks, so much yearning, this chapter is tame but the smut show starts next chapter)

word count: 4.2k

series masterlist | series playlist

Every Saturday morning, Mrs. Moss’s craft store holds an art class, usually taught by Nathalie or herself although neither of them were artists, exactly. The classes were simple: watercolors, knitting, sewing 101, some beginner pottery. The classes were easy because most of the time only elementary-aged children showed up to it. Occasionally a couple bored high schoolers might stop by, but it was an extreme rarity that a childless adult made an appearance.

So you can imagine Nathalie’s surprise and horror when she walked into the classroom and saw Marcus and Emily seated, giggling together in this week’s class.

“A-alright then,” she began, her eyes traveling all over the room but never at the two adults sticking out like sore thumbs. “Today we’re going to be painting with watercolors.”

One of her regular students, no older than ten stuck her hand up high in the air. “Miss Nathalie?”

“Yes, Amira?”

“What are we going to be painting?”

“Well, you know I like to let you guys decide what you want to paint because that way it’s special and completely you,” she smiled through her answer, the little girl nodding in response.

In her peripheral, she saw another longer, more muscular arm raise, a sigh building in her lungs as she turned her eyes to his, a half-grin on Marcus’ handsome face.

“Miss Nathalie?” He called, a small smile forming on her face against her will at the simple sound of his voice paired with her name.

“Yes, Marcus?” She asked, her smile now matching his wide grin, Emily’s eyes darting between the two of them as though they were in a standoff of sorts.

“What will you be painting today?” He asked innocently, although his smirk and eyes traveling up and down her body told her his thoughts were far from innocent.

Nathalie rolled her eyes and chuckled, taking in a slow inhale as she studied the mischief in his chocolate eyes.

“Something for my mom,” she finally admitted, Marcus’ smile softening as he nodded once.

“That’s a good idea, Miss Nathalie. I think I’ll do that too.”

Emily’s eyes had stopped studying the two of them, choosing instead to look down at her blank paper. Nathalie realized herself, clearing her throat before turning back to the children in the class.

“Okay, does everyone know how to paint with watercolors? I think everyone was here when we went over it last month, right?” All of the children nodded and began on their paintings, a spark of pride swelling in Nathalie’s chest as she watched them work. Even if she wasn’t pursuing the career she’d always dreamed of anymore, it felt nice to make an impact on these young lives with the simple and undeniable magic of art.

“Miss Nathalie?” Marcus seemed to be in a persistent mood today, and while that would’ve filled her with an electrifying, girlish giddiness before, with him being on a date, it only made her feel guilty. Emily was right there, and although Marcus’ intentions may have been innocent, she knew all too well what it was like to feel second-best. She wouldn’t put Emily through that no matter how badly she wanted to be Marcus’ first choice.

“What?” She snapped, wiping the smile off his face.

“…Emily’s cup has no water in it.” Nathalie felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. Of course he wasn’t trying to flirt with her. He was simply looking out for his date.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She walked over to their table and grabbed the cup, carrying it over to the sink to fill it halfway before delivering it with a well-meaning smile. Emily looked at her like she was the most evil woman in the world, her glare more threatening than anything she’d ever seen before. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” The blonde snapped, yanking the cup from her hand and setting it down.

“I…” Nathalie meant to respond but Marcus turned his head and allowed his eyes to wander up to Nathalie’s as she stood behind their chairs, effectively silencing her. Her chest tingled with panic and shame and guilt and just about every other awful feeling in the world, all of those nasty emotions combining to form a tornado of anxiety that started to wreck her from the inside. “I’m sorry. Excuse me.”

Nathalie rushed out of the store’s classroom in a hurry, weaving through the aisles until she spotted her mother standing at the register in the front of the store, no customers in sight. As though she was a little girl scared of a monster under her bed, she clung to her mother in a desperate hug, burying her face in her sweater.

“Nattie, whats wrong?” Mrs. Moss stroked the back of her daughter’s head, a look of concern on her face though Nathalie couldn’t see it. She shook with sobs in her mother’s embrace, trying to focus on the familiar perfume she’d been wearing since Nathalie was a little girl rather than the man in the other room determined to ruin her.

“M…Marcus,” she croaked in a whisper, lifting her head up. Mrs. Moss wiped her daughters tears away, her brows still laced together as she studied the panic in Nathalie’s eyes. “He’s with Emily.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her voice soft as she read between the lines of what her daughter truly meant to say. Why is he with Emily and not me? “How about you stay up here and run the register and I’ll go take care of the class?”

Nathalie nodded, her eyes blinking away the tears that remained. Her mother leaned over to kiss her temple, whispering something incoherent to her daughter, but Nathalie didn’t need to hear it to know what she was saying.

Your time will come.

She’d been telling her that since she was a little girl, always yearning and demanding more from this life. Like when she saw the older kids in her neighborhood, Marcus being one of them, heading off to school every fall while she was still too young to even know how to tie her own shoes, your time will come. When she desperately wanted to mature and have the breasts and curves that all the other girls had developed over the summer while she remained flat as a board, your time will come. When her friends in high school got their drivers licenses and hand-me-down cars, Nathalie unable to even pass the written test, your time will come. When all of her college friends were falling in love and getting engaged while Nathalie struggled to even say ‘hi’ to a man, your time will come. Even this summer when Nathalie broke down in front of her parent’s home, having just arrived from her long journey from Chicago, sobbing out ‘When do I get to be happy like everyone else?’ into her father’s chest, your time will come.

She needed only to believe it.

“Hey!” Nathalie jumped at a familiar, soft voice as it broke her out of her thoughts, her eyes lifting to the woman standing in front of her register. Forcing a smile onto her face, she whispered a greeting back to Mrs. Pike, hoping that she couldn’t see the redness in her eyes brought on by her son’s mere existence. “I thought you were teaching the class today?”

“Yeah, I was supposed to but…I’m having an off day today. Didn’t want the kids to have to witness it.” She shrugged and began to scan her cart full of yarn and other knitting supplies.

“Hey, why don’t you come over tonight? Remember how I used to invite you over to bake when you were little? I’ve got a few pies I need to make for the church’s bake sale. Might be a good way to distract yourself a bit?” Nathalie sucked in a sharp breath and held it, the thought of running into Marcus again preventing her from immediately agreeing to the thoughtful invitation. “Marcus was supposed to help me but he’s taking Emily out ice skating tonight. So, it’ll just be me and you…and maybe Mr. Pike snoring in the living room.”

Though the thought of Marcus and Emily out on a date tonight stung her jealous heart, Nathalie let out an airy chuckle, shrugging her shoulders as she nodded in agreement. “Sure. That sounds lovely, Mrs. Pike.”

“Good, how about you come by around five or six?” Nathalie nodded and bagged her final item. After paying, Mrs. Pike gave her one last smile and they said their goodbyes, leaving Nathalie alone to think about what she needed to do to get over her son once and for all.

Yeah, right.

Nathalie had her current read in her hands as she sat on a wooden stool behind the register, the store having been particularly slow all day aside from the children and two adults in the back finishing up their watercolors.

“No, I really just don’t see the point in abstract art. It makes my head hurt and stomach sick, it’s…hard to look at.” Emily’s voice sounded from somewhere in the store, forcing Nathalie to set her book down as she realized the couple was getting closer.

“That’s sort of the point.” Marcus replied in an almost irritated tone, as though this hadn’t been the first thing they’d disagreed on. Nathalie sucked in a breath of strength as the couple approached the register, Emily’s hands empty but Marcus’ holding a leather-bound sketchbook and some pencils. His eyes locked with Nathalie’s as he set his things down on the counter, the softness in them seeming almost apologetic, though she was almost certain she was simply searching for what she wanted to see. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Nathalie lowered her eyes to the sketchbook, running her hands over the leather. “You…uh…we have an embossing machine. It’s, uh, free. If you wanted to have your name put on it.”

“Oh,” his tone grew lighter, his eyes brightening too. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Follow me,” she spoke through a sigh, hating herself for the elongated amount of time spent in his presence when she could’ve just rang him up and sent him on his way.

“How long is this supposed to take?” Emily asked, glancing at her watch.

“Uh…like ten minutes?”

“Ten minutes?” She repeated as though Nathalie had told her they’d be standing here for an eternity. “Marcus, I have that appointment I need to get to.”

“Oh, right,” Marcus looked longingly at both Nathalie and his sketchbook, his heart set on both the embossment and the extra time spent in his neighbor’s presence.

“I can just ring you up now and drop it off at your house later on if you want,” Nathalie offered with a faint smile and a shrug.

“You’re an angel,” he complimented, the sincerity in his tone shocking not only Nathalie, but Emily as well. Marcus cleared his throat as he realized both women were staring at him. “Anyways, if you could just—“

“Right.” Nathalie carried the sketchbook back to the register, quickly ringing them up and wishing them a good afternoon, her eyes locking with Marcus’ as he glanced at her over his shoulder.

Did he have any clue at all of what that did to her? Did he have any idea that in the one week he’d been home he’d made her feel more alive than her ex-fiancé ever did in their seven years of being together? Was he aware that the sight of him with another woman drove her to the point of madness? Clearly, he must not have.

“Oh, look at this!” Mrs. Pike had been entertaining Nathalie with photo albums from every Christmas since Marcus had been born. She laid a photo album from twenty or so years ago in her lap, pointing at a photo of Nathalie, Marcus, Angela, and her older brother, Jason, in a snow ball fight. “Look at how little you all were.”

“I remember this so clearly in my head. I think I remember going home with a bloody nose,” Nathalie chuckled at the odd memory, Mrs. Pike wincing and nodding.

“Yeah, Marcus meant to hit Jason, but then he ducked and it hit you. Poor thing.” She flipped the page and sure enough there was a polaroid of Nathalie grinning into the camera with blood dripping from her nose, as if she’d earned her first battle wound. “You couldn’t have cared less about it, but Marcus felt so bad! I remember him pestering me everyday about going over to apologize but he was always so shy.”

“Well…” She smiled at the thought of a thirteen year old Marcus, always so sympathetic and compassionate. “I’m sure little me didn’t hold it against him.”

“Oh? Is Marcus home already?” Mrs. Pike looked through the living room window at a pair of headlights pulling into the driveway, Marcus stepping out of his sedan by himself. “I wonder what happened.”

“I should probably be going,” Nathalie stood up but Mrs. Pike was quick to stop her.

“No, no. I’m sure Marcus wouldn’t mind you being over.” Nathalie sighed, panic rising in her chest as she tried to focus on the photos in front of her, mindlessly flipping through the pages in an attempt to distract her mind.

“Everything okay?” Mrs. Pike could be overheard greeting her son in the entryway, a wall separating Nathalie from the pair.

“Yeah, yeah. Emily’s just…not what I’m looking for,” he sighed.

Nathalie could have sworn her heart was beginning to beat itself out of her chest as Marcus rounded the corner, newly stripped of his coat and scarf, his black sweater and jeans fitting his body snugly enough that she could see a faint line of all he had to offer. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her sitting on the sofa, their eyes locking from across the room.

“Nathalie’s been over helping me with some pies,” Mrs. Pike clarified, looking between the pair as they remained frozen in eye contact. Clearing her throat, she couldn’t help but smile at the tension between the two. “I’ll, uh, go open a bottle of wine.”

Nathalie waited until his mother had left the room to speak, gesturing behind him into the dining room.

“Your, uh, sketchbook is on the table.” Marcus finally blinked, swallowing before turning his head around to look into the other room.

“Thanks,” he turned back to her with a nod of his head, his finger pointing at the photo album in her lap. “What year does she have you looking at?”

“Oh,” she chuckled and closed the book to read the cover. “2002. The year of the snowball incident, apparently.”

“Oh no!” He chuckled, walking over and taking the seat beside her, close enough so that his knee was touching hers. He took the book onto his lap and flipped through the pages until he found the pictures Mrs. Pike and Nathalie had just been looking at, gasping at the bloody photo. “Jesus! And look at you…smiling.”

“What can I say? I’m hardcore.” Nathalie’s eyes had yet to see him so close, at least not in years. She studied his profile as he grinned and flipped through the album, pointing things out that she couldn’t hear over the pounding in her chest. “What happened with Emily?”

Marcus’ laughter died down as he turned his head to face her, their lips close enough that she could feel his breathing falter.

“She…said something that turned me off, I guess,” he started, his eyes glued to her lips.

“What…” she began in a shaky, whispered voice. “What did she say?”

“She just said something that I didn’t like about someone I care about.” Nathalie’s breath hitched as his eyes met hers again, her shaking hand wanting to reach out and hold his face but before she could even think about acting on her desire, Mrs. Pike was walking into the room with three glasses of wine, forcing the pair apart. Marcus cleared his throat as he scooted over, his mother grinning to herself.

“Sorry, was I interrupting anything?” Nathalie grabbed her glass of red wine and downed it in one gulp, needing to take the edge off this awkward moment. Marcus chuckled and shook his head at his mother as he sipped on his glass.

“I should, uh…should probably head home, though,” Nathalie stood up and grabbed her purse in a hurry, both Mrs. Pike and Marcus rushing to follow her into the entryway. They watched her as she slid her coat and scarf on before doing the same with her gloves and beanie.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Mrs. Pike worried.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she assured with a small, hardly visible smile.

“Let me walk you home. Give ma some peace of mind,” Marcus offered innocently enough, but the look in his eye was almost begging. She found herself curious to see what what happen if the two were truly left alone together, even if they were simply walking across the street.

“Sure.”

Marcus wasted no time in putting his coat and scarf, smoothly opening the door for her as she hugged his mother goodbye.

“After you,” Marcus gestured and Nathalie blushed as she walked through the front door first.

He remained close to her as they started their small journey to her front door, their shoulders bumping as they walked at a sluggish pace.

“So…”

“So,” she chuckled. “What exactly did Emily say about me?”

“Who said I was talking about you?” He purposely bumped his shoulder into hers, forcing her eyes to meet his. She raised an eyebrow to challenge him, earning a chuckle as he faced forward. “Fine. She just said that she didn’t like how forward you were with me. That you didn’t respect ‘girl code’.”

“Me?” She placed her hand over her heart in disbelief. “I was forward?”

He shrugged, a knowing smirk growing on his face that had her panic returning. The only thing worse than him not knowing the extent of her feelings for him was him knowing and not caring.

“Nathalie,” he spoke her name and pulled her out of her panic, the whole world hushing to a peaceful quiet, everything but him fading into a blur as she lifted her eyes to meet his. “I was the one being forward.”

“Yes, you were,” she repeated as though it was a fact, not daring to lay all her cards out on the table without seeing his first.

“And you keep disappearing,” he teased, stopping them in the middle of their suburban street covered in a blanket of snow besides a couple tire tracks leading into different driveways. The street lamp in front of her house beamed a golden yellow, illuminating the snowflakes as they began to fall in the faintest dusting over the neighborhood. “Why do you keep disappearing?”

“Why do you think?” She chuckled, rolling her eyes at him.

“Because of Emily?”

“Yes, because of Emily!” She half-shouted, though the smile on her face told Marcus she wasn’t so much upset as she was embarrassed.

“Emily is gone. There’s no more me and Emily,” he assured with equal enthusiasm. “So why now, even with you right here beside me does it feel like you’re disappearing again?”

Nathalie was stunned by both his audacity and his accuracy. She had retreated, putting up a wall between them to save herself from feeling the kinds of feelings she had spent half a year trying to avoid.

“I’m…panicking,” she confessed in a whisper, the snowy night silent enough to allow him to hear it.

“Why?” He asked, reaching to cup her face with his gloved hands, thumbs stroking over the plumpness of her cheeks.

“Because,” she whined, pulling his hands off her face. “Because I just got my heart broken and I’m not ready to risk that again. Especially not with you.”

“Why not with me?” He looked offended, stepping back just a couple inches, his brows laced together and eyes narrowed.

“Because, Marcus! I’ve been in love with the idea of you since I was a little kid.”

The air was thick with tension as they both stared at each other in shock, her confession taking them both by surprise.

“The idea of me?” He finally spoke, his voice a whisper. “Just the idea?”

“Marcus,” she groaned and started towards her house at a normal pace, forcing him to follow her.

“I’m here, Nat,” he grabbed her hand and stopped her as she moved to step up the stairs to her porch. She turned around and met his eyes, the thick layer of ice she’d built around her heart melting the longer she stared into the warm brown of his irises. “I’m here telling you that…I can’t get you out of my head.”

She couldn’t think, let alone react to his confession. This was the sort of thing she used to dream about—Marcus standing in front of her proclaiming his feelings, fighting for her, pulling her out of her own head and back to earth. But this wasn’t a dream. He was real, standing there looking at her with expectant eyes, almost begging her to say yes, say no, say anything.

“I’ve never been able to get you out of my head,” she finally whispered a response, fear palpable in her voice along with a desperate longing that left Marcus weak in the knees. “Not since you hit me with that damn snowball.”

“I’ve always been a terrible flirt,” he chuckled, stepping close enough that he had to bend his neck to look down at her, his hand cradling her jaw while the other held her waist. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” she nodded enthusiastically, her eyes locked on his pout. “I’ve literally been waiting years for this, Marcus.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize,” he whispered as he leaned in, Nathalie tugging him closer at the first press of his lips against hers. He hummed against her, the hand on her waist wrapping around her body to hug her close as she held onto his collar for dear life.

She’d only seen women being kissed like this in the movies, that sort of passionate display often too romantic for most real life men, but it was clear that Marcus wasn’t like most men. He held her like she was the only thing in the world he wanted to hold for the rest of his life. He kissed her like he’d never kiss again, stealing her breath only to moan it back against her lips.

“Ahem,” Mr. Moss cleared his throat, the two jumping apart as though they were teenagers caught in the act. Marcus blushed as he wiped his mouth as subtly as he could manage, nodding at her father standing in the doorway.

“Mr. Moss.”

“Marcus.”

Nathalie winced at the awkward situation, turning her eyes from her father and back to the man that had just proven to her that romance still existed.

“Probably should say goodnight,” she held her hand out, smirking at him as he looked down at it.

“Come to dinner with me tomorrow,” he whispered as he slipped his hand against hers.

“Okay,” she chuckled and looked away bashfully, bringing another eye-crinkling grin to Marcus’ face. He shook his head and stepped away from her, knowing that if he stayed there any longer, he might never find the strength to leave.

“Goodnight, Mr. Moss,” he waved at her father who only chuckled in response before bringing his eyes back to Nathalie’s once more. “Night, Nat.”

“Night, Marcus.” Nathalie stayed watching him as he walked across the snow to his parent’s house, his gloved hands tucked in his pocket and head down. Even without seeing his face, he was so handsome it almost hurt to be around him.

“You gonna come inside or what?” Mr. Moss teased, finally earning his daughter’s attention. She rolled her eyes and chuckled at him, a pink hue to her tanned skin as she walked up the steps. “You and Marcus looked like you’re getting along.”

“Dad,” she laughed and shook her head as they walked inside. “Shh.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll quit making fun of you…for tonight.”

“That was a long walk,” Marcus was met at the door by his mother’s teasing, a grin on her face as she watched him blush. “Get lost?”

“Ha-ha,” he shook his head and followed up his fake laughter with a few real chuckles. Hanging his coat and scarf on the coatrack by the door, Marcus let out a content sigh. “We kissed.”

“Oh, you have no idea how happy this makes me, Marcus.” Marcus had never seen his mother so approving and happy over a girl he liked. “Are you taking her out on a real date?”

“Yeah, mom,” laughed. “Taking her out for dinner tomorrow night.”

“Oh, thank god!” She bellowed with joy, squeezing him in a lung-crushing hug. “Try not to move too fast with this one. I like her.”

Marcus chuckled and freed himself from his mothers embrace, still wearing his blush. “I like her too.”

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike angst #marcus pike smut #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike #the mentalist fanfic #tis the damn season

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jamcannibal · 1 month

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analyzing/screaming about 101 chapter 79

fic: 101 reasons to live (and keep living after that)

by @cyrenescreams on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41426469

So I was in a silly goofy mood one day and decided to just go trhough every paragraph and write soemthing about it. (It was supposed to be like an analysis but I don't think it turned out to be an analysis)

here you ahve the ctrl + c, ctrl + v of my google docs

I'm bored and slightly delirious from pain so it's time to reread the chapter and overanalyze it

(one part of this was written while experiencing atrocious period pain and the rest was written while absolutely getting fucked over by seasonal allergies)

Charlie feels like shit. More like shit than he has in weeks. He sort of hopes it’s the weather but he’s also aware that it probably isn’t.

Is this because you got to feel joy for the first time in years and now you lost it? Is this because you feel like you're bcak to square one. Like you thought you were finally getting ebtter, but then you feel like you have felt the past few years again?

The weather here (for me) has actually been getting a lot better, so seasonal depression is slowly ending for everyone, so Charlie hoping it was the weather is almost ironic.

Bad is always talking about how healing is non-linear and comes in dips and raises. But Charlie still feels a bit disappointed that his joy didn’t last. He just wants to feel normal.

Because you hear that shit all the time in therapy, but it's something different to hear it than to live through it. Also reminds me of Fundy's mom, her relapse and her getting better again.

The yearning to be normal. I don't think he ever tlaked about wanting to be normal. I think he always talked about being too tired, or having to pretend/act. But never wishing he was normal. So that's... soemthing. I might actually have to go over Charlie chapters to figure out if I'm just saying bullshit or not.

He isn’t really sure what normal is, maybe some sort of joy or contentment he felt as a kid. But now he isn’t sure he would know joy if it beat him bloody in a parking lot.

AAAahahahrhahsahaha. This!!

Earlier I wanted to say he wants to be normal because he finally got a taste of it, he was pretty happy for a while and now he needs more. But no, that's not what normal is, he does not know what nromal is but he still wants it!!! That's crazy man (im internally crying). He doesn't know it! He does not know what norml is! He wants soemthign and he does not even know what it is! (It's an analogy for capitalism. /ref - I'm so sorry I've been hyperfixating on spiderverse again)

Also him using such a brutal analogy is a bit concerning. Like, 'are you okay Charlie? Why would you say that??? Do you *want to* get beaten up? To feel pain instead of emotions?' (Imagine me asking him that while shaking him vigorously by the shoulders)

And looking around the circle of folding chairs and gloomy faces, Charlie probably isn’t the only one feeling like garbage.

yep, I'm still waiting for the it gets better part, anyways, next paragraph

Bad is eyeing them all up too, like he is waiting to see which one of them will break first. With the anxious way Fundy is picking at his fingers it will probably be him.

Break first. The was Charlie says it is brutal. Bad is just there waiting for one of them to speak up, waiting for them to begin because they've been pretty good at this therapy thing lately. And then Charlie comes in and thinks "ah yes, he's waiting for us to BREAK'. No Charlie, he qwants to fix you. He wants to see you be better. He probably cares more than your parents, which is sad.

And again, Charlie analyzing. He analyzes everyone and everything.

Or maybe Charlie should cut in, it is his self imposed job to do what he can to help others, through laughing at him, or joining in, or some other strange tactic.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

That’s it, that’s all I have to say about this one.

Nah, actually. CHARLIE! Charlie, you can chill. You can stop pretending. You can just be you and only you. People who matter will love you either way. You don’t have to always pretend or help. You can be yourself and get helped.

Charlie thinks back to last week, he thinks about how nice it felt to just relax and let himself exist, especially just existing quietly with no expectations.

Charlie wants to jump in puddles again so bad. He wants to be like Peppa pig so bad.

Also autism experience, I know what you are Charlie. I know…

“Okay!” Foolish is, surprisingly, the one who breaks first. Words bursting out of him like an explosion. “What is up with all of us? Why do we all look so shitty this week?”

How’d Charlie react to his analysis being incorrect? What’d he do when he couldn’t predict the situation??

That aside, Fundy speaking up makes sense in a way. I think he likes protecting people and this is kind of like protection, getting them to talk about shit.

“Language.” Bad says. “Though I’m glad you’ve taken charge of your conversation Foolish. Group really is all bout you all connecting with one another and feeling seen. So I think I’ll take a step back this week and see what you all can do.”

Bad when he can actually do his job instead of trying to get a group of teenagers to at least TRY talking about their feelings: :D

He’s trusting them to do therapy since they’ve been doing so well <3.

“No activity then?” Quackity asks with a foolish, no pun intended, hope in his voice.

Is there really no pun intended, author? Are you sure you did not intend that pun?

Quackity wants to ignore therapy so bad, he wants it to not exist, like it’s the worst thing ever. It’s funny he’s more hopeful about them not doing an activity than he is about his love life-

“I didn’t say that.” Bad says, “but maybe we can count this as this week’s activity so you guys can get out earlier.”

He’s really trying to make this work. He wants to do his job so bad.

I bet Bad loves his job.

“Why are you so upset then Foolish.” Fundy challenges.

Sure Fundy, get defensive. Is that the only way you know how to react? Do you feel attacked by Foolish for starting the conversation? Do you feel betrayed that he started it instead of letting abd do it? Don you wish you didn’t have to sit there that bad that you’re gonna lash out onto your friend? Sure, go ahead…

“Are we being honest?” Foolish counters.

I LOVE WHEN THEY DO THERAPY RIGTH. They’re so <3<3333

“Fuck it why not. We already know way too much about one another.” Quackity grumbles.

Quackity is so real for this tbh. But also him being the one to agree to be honest is so new and surprising and he’s healing and I’m so happy for him.

“You know,” Sam starts, “you can really see our growth considering Quackity didn’t add on that we know too much considering we aren’t friends.”

COME ON SAM, DONT RUIN THE MOMENT. /lh

But he is right

“Even he can’t deny it anymore.” Charlie says with a grin. Joining in on the conversation with the others doesn’t feel as hard as conversation sometimes does. It feels easy to talk with them.

AAAAAAAAA, is he not masking around them??? Is he actually being himself? Is he comfortable enough around them to do that? That’s soooo… aaaaa.

“Anyways!” Quackity interrupts loudly.

Is Quackity uncomfortable with having friends? Aw, come on, it’s fine, you can have friends and care about them, it’s not a bad thing.

“I feel selfish for not writing my mom back.” Foolish says bluntly, completely abandoning their usual format. “I know so many kids like me, and even me, myself, wished for this type of shit and suddenly I don’t want it and I feel terrible.”

Alright, we’re jumping straight into it. Like jumping into a freezing river or ripping off a bandaid.

I guess it kind of is like ripping off a bandaid (plaster??, bro iunno which terms are american english and which ones are UK english). Let me think of a poetic metaphor. A bandaid covers an injury, it protects it from infections, but if you leave it on for way too long it can give you blood poisoning. It’s like hiding your problems, it can help for a little while the injury closes up. But you have to talk about them or a small cut will become blood poisoning.

“You aren’t selfish. You aren’t selfish and you don’t owe her or anyone else anything.” Sam says firmly.

Yes! He’s so right!!

(Supportive boyfriend but also, just like a good friend. Your partner being your best friend>>)

“I just want to be happy now.” Foolish sighs. “On a lighter note I’m definitely going to be on varsity next year so that is fun.”

I think all of them just want to be happy. Or healthy. Or normal. Whatever label they put on it they just want to be able to live without the baggage.

“Weren’t you on varsity this year?” Charlie asks because his understanding of Football ends at touchdowns and field goals.

Same Charlie. But I also know a quarterback is important, who knows why it is, but it’s important.

“I was, but still, it’s nice to know for sure.” Foolish shrugs. “Alright, your turn Fundy.”

Is this revenge for him making you go first? Is Foolish this petty?

“I saw my mom again today and she asked if I wanted to go back to splitting my time. I think I do but I don’t want something bad to happen again.” Fundy said referencing whatever, secret, vague, bad thing lead to his conflict with his mom.

I really hope she asked in a nonforcefull way. In a way rthat Fundy didn’t feel pressured, in a way that made it clear it’s his decision and she will still be his mom and still try her best no matter which decision he makes.

I hope it goes better this time. I hope she won’t relapse again, for both hers and Fundy’s sake.

“Once burned twice shy.” Quackity says. The quieter and more genuine, “I think you should try and let her in again. You’re going to regret not doing it if you don’t.”

I’m just so AAA… Quackity is acting different! He’s being honest, he’d admitting they are hsi friends, he gives helpful advice instead of being snarky.

And I’m so happy, but mildly worried. I really hope this change isn’t a hint on a big issue happening with Quackity at the moment.

“You know about this?” Fundy asks, suspicious.

Fundyyy, it’s Quackity’s job to be distrusful and snarky and passive aggressive. Go back to liking foxes, minecraft and the color orange.

Don’t become like early 101 reasons Quackity, it’s not healthy.

“My mom has always been…” Quackity waves his hand around to indicate at everything. “I don’t know. Far away, not there. I doubt if she hadn’t found me mid death-failure she never would have been able to tell you my middle name.”

Bone chilling honesty. I know Quackity has been honest before, but I feel like this is different, because the other things have always been things that have happened to him around the time he was talking about them.

But he’s like… going for it. Talking about hsi childhood in a way.

“Oh.” Fundy says taking in this new information.

IT IS NEW INFORMATION TO THEM. Because Quackity doesn’t talk about this shit and he should or his blood’s gonna rot. He can take the bandaid off slowly, he doesn’t have to rip it off. He can do it slowly, he cna be careful about it to not cause any damage, any pain. Because I know he’s terrified of taking that bandage off.

Metaphors aside, I think Quackity in this work is definitely the kind of person who REFUSES to rip off a bandaid because it hurts too much.

“See I have problems that aren’t guys.” Quackity grins, stealing Charlie’s job at lighting the mood.

Charlie! It’s not your job to do anything! You don’t have to do that! Of course everyone appreciates it, btu you don’t have to.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE THE COMEDIC RELIEF ALL THE TIME

“Tell us something good Fundy, please.” Sam cuts in.

Is Sam worried? Is Sam hoping that at least something good happened to Fundy??

Charlie thinks they definitely need it, especially if the frantic sound of Bad scribbling notes on his clipboard are any indication.

Bad is so happy to be able to do his job for once, isn’t he? He’s practically beaming while writing his notes, isn’t he????

But Charlie’s right, they need it.

Your therapist writing stuff you say down is not a sign that those things are normal and you are okay and nothing wrong ever happened in your life.

“I’m passing with all As this quarter.” Fundy says. “Which is shocking, considering literally everything.”

WOOOOO, good job Fundy!!

“That is crazy.” Charlie says. “I’m definitely not. I’m also feeling sad and tired and so fucking unmotivated. And it sucks because I was feeling better, I was doing better. I want to do better.”Refer to what I said at the beginning.

He wants to be happy. He got a taste of it and now he’s hungry, even if he didn’t realize it before. He’s hungry for happiness.

“Wanting is the important part, isn’t it?” Fundy says. “My mom really wants to get better and that’s why I trust her.”

Again, refer to what I said earlier.

(The process of healing isn’t linear and it applies for both Charlie and Fundy’s mom.)

“I guess. I’ve never really thought of it like that though. I always needed something more quantifiable.” Charlie shrugs.

Me! Autism, that’s autism. I’m saying it’s autism so it is autism.

“What if They never tell you they want to get better? What if they just do and they never apologize.” Quackity says suddenly.

NOOOOO. That’s so sad. So fucking sad. Schlatt. I just… aght, I hope Quackity can get closure. I hope they get to talk about what happened and even if Quackity won't forgive, he will be better if they have a talk. I trust it

I know it.

“Did Sapnap or Karl do something? Or your mom?” Sam asks, seemingly, worried.

Hah. Imagine not knowing about Schlatt, couldn’t relate.

But what did Charlie think? Did he analyze what Quackity had said, did he connect the dots or did he not dwell on the sentence, letting it slip his mind?

“No. Well yes, they are still being weird and they keep brushing me off when I bring it up.”

Imagine talking about your therapist’s son in therapy, that's gotta be awkward…

Quackity doesn’t say that being brushed off is making him worry but Charlie can see it on his face.

HAHAHHA, Charlie, stop for a minute and analyze yourself, would ya? It’ll help you, it’s called introspection. I learned all about it in my psychology class.

“It’s someone else. I guess it doesn’t matter, I’ve been avoiding them for months and I don’t really plan on stopping.” Quackity says trying to remove their focus. “Anyways my good thing is that I plan on rewatching into the spider-verse tonight, so that is fun.”

Charlie, for the love of god pick up on this. You know Quackity and Schaltt you can, I don't know, arrange for them to talk? But I also don’t want to pressure Chalrie intot his?? But I feel like that’s something he would be willing to do.

SPIDER-VERSE! My favorite franchise! I’m so normal about the animation and characters/character design!

“Oh!” Charlie jumps in. “My good thing is that my dad is on a work trip so that house has been really quiet because my mom is just avoiding me.”“How is it still sad?” Quackity asks.

Exactly as Quackity says, he is very correct here. Couldn’t've said it better.

“I’m not still pressuring you on all of what you said.” Charlie points out.

Hahahaha, he did notice. He deffo noticed, but i don’t think he’s gonna scheme, or is he??

“Point taken. I will shut up.” Quackity says, unwilling to continue to tempt fate.

Take that, bitch! /pos

Imagine ebing scared of being vulnerable, what a loser.

“Quackity, shutting up? That is definitely a first.” Fundy says with a grin.Fundy, stop taking Quackity’s job. Firstly, that’s Quackity’s job, secondly you don’t want to be like Quackity.

“I’m going to fuck your dad.”That’s a bit gay, isn’t it Quackity? DO you have something to share perhaps?

“Good luck finding him.” Fundy says sweetly.HHAHAHAHA, I love jokes like this honestly. Ok, Fundy, you can be snappy, it’s fun.

Something about Fundy’s blunt but happy tone shocks them all into laughing.Friends!!!! They’re experiencing the true meaning of friendship: laughing at each other’s trauma jokes instead of being concerned.

Bad scribbles a bit more frantically, which while fair, seems a bit harsh. They had definitely made these jokes before anyways.Bad’s killing the mood, shaking my head. Shaking my head. And shaking my head one last time. They did make these kinds of jokes before, but this is different, because it’s honest.

“Alright! Last one in our honesty hair braiding friendship circle.” Quackity says. “Sam.”Quackity would love hair braiding circle, he would fucking love it! /lh

No, but like, him being like this is just. Like it was concerning before, but now it’s fully just a facade and it’s kind of funny. but still sad, like why do you put on that facade? Are you still scared of getting hurt? Do you think that once this gorup therapy thing ends you won’t speak to these people again, are you afraid you will lose them when you don’ have anything in common anymore?

“You and Sam are the only ones with hair long enough to braid.” Charlie points out.You can braid any length of hair if you put oyur mind to it, Charlie, you just have to try really hard.

“It’s a metaphor.” Quackity explains.Ah yes, of course, so smart, so innovative to use a metaphor. Nerd.

“Not a simile?” Fundy tilts his head.NERD!

“I didn’t use like or as.”I think we both know what I have to say about that… nerd.

(all nerd is slash pos)

“Gay people love English class.” Charlie nods.You would know, wouldn’t you Chalrie?

(I actually don’t like english class, the teacher is a bitch, but my friends who haev a different (very gay) teacher love it)

“As the straightest one here, that’s almost homophobic Charlie.” Foolish jokes.The fact you’re right doesn’t mean you have to say it outloud, some thoughts are ebay to keep to yourself.

“What a low bar.” Fundy grins.He’s so right.

“Sam?” Foolish asks, moving all of their attention to the topic at hand.Ew, people in relationships worrying about their partners, I hate that. /j

Charlie is a little surprised at how worried Foolish sounds. Foolish would be the one Charlie thought would know what is up with Sam.Well, jokes on you Charlie, your deduction skills failed you, Sam doesn’t talk to fucking anyone because he is a loser- (I need to stop claling them losers and nerds)

Sam taps a rhythm on his leg. “Sorry, I was thinking.”Oh no, don’t do that! That’s dangerous! You might hurt yourself. Stimming, stimming, stimming… why are you nervous Sam? (I know why, seeing that I am a god and reading ahead.)

“About?” Charlie prompts.I’m starting to think Charlie should go into psychology, he could make a good therapist.

“Nothing important.” Sam dismisses.No one is gonna believe that. I wonder why he feels the need to say that knowing he will explain it and the others will see that it is indeed important. Why did you feel the need to make it out to be nothing Sam? Why is that?

I genuinely am not sure. He’s not one of my favs so it sucks for him but I have not overnalyzed him enough to deduce this. (Yes I am biased, at least I admit it.)

“We’re being honest.” Quackity points out.Heheh, it would be kind of funny if Sam was the only one not being honest.

Also Quackity being the one to point that out is so ironic and shows his character growth.

“I’m trying to figure out how to word this without sounding like a total hypocrite.” Sam admits.ME. No, but sometimes you say something that just comes out absolutely wrong and like there are things you don’t want to come out like that and you have to think about it.

“Maybe you’re being a hypocrite, then?” Foolish suggests. “I’d also love to know.”hahah. I feel like that's a terrible thing to say, but given the nature of their relationship it probably is the right thing to say.

Sam looks a bit ashamed at that, and apparently that is all it takes for him to crack. “Well, there been a girl at my father’s place. A woman, I guess. And she cornered me last Thursday to tell me she’s pregnant. So… there’s that.”ME, that happened to me. Well not exactly, but the sentiment is there. AHHAHA.

He’s like “yeah it’s not big deal, just something that happened, not really important, but it has to do”

Sam needs to stop keeping things to himself. He keeps things to himself to protect others while Quacktiy keeps things to himself to protect himself from others.

“Your absent father?” Fundy asks.Ah, he still has not told the group about the split custody, did he? Fun.

“Asked the pot to the kettle” Charlie says, attempting to lighten the mood.YOU DON’T ALWAYS HAVE TO BE THE COMIC RELIEF! You can be a person, you won’t be any less valuable to your friends if you don’t try to make everything better all the time, you can just take a moment, Charlie, please, know you’re loved for you and not for being a comic relief.

“Yeah so now I’m worried for this kid who I absolutely do not want to know, because I know what’s going to happen and that’s shitty and I won’t do anything to stop it because I’m selfish and I want nothing to do with the kid.” Sam complains.Yeah, I get that. I’m not gonna try to not be too personal, but I have not met my half sibling but I want to, but ti’s really hard. I get Sam’s sentiment tho, like if my situation was even slightly different I would probably share that sentiment.

“You do sound like a hypocrite.” Foolish says, with feeling.I honestly don’t get what about that sounds hypocritical. I think Sam’s being reasonable.

But that’s maybe bcs I’m very biased when it comes to this situation.

“Ugh.” Sam says with equal feeling.Ught, stop being in love or something, I don’t want to catch gay. /j

No, I honestly don’t get why that’s wrong?

“What if he stays?” Quackity asks.Very important question, but I don’t think Quackity gets it.

Like I would explain it to him probably like: “Imagine your mom started being present, like a real person. Would you believe that it would stay that way? Like no matter how long it stays that way you would still think she’s gonna go back to being her dissociated self any day.”

“What if the sky turns green? It’s not like I’ll be able to see it either way.” Sam shrugs. “I won’t believe it.”Metaphors. Gay people and English smh.

“Now that is a good metaphor for someone colorblind.” Fundy says.He’s a bit quirky. I mean, he’s probably red-green colorblind so technically the sky would go from being the only nice color to being the same boring yellowish gray as everything else.

“Whatever.” Quackity rolls his eyes.Is that ableism towards colorblind people? YOu’re on thin ice, Quackity. /j

“Oh and as for good stuff my week has gone by pretty fast which is nice because I’m fucking tired and want to sleep in so bad.” Sam says.I think that’s a sign of depression… maybe you shouldn’t have a sign of depression as a good thing that happened to you that week, jsut saying.

Bad scribes for another minute before stopping. “I think today was very productive all around.” He says looking up at them.Bad’s noticed too! Of course he did, he’s a therapist smh.

“I think I want to eat my feelings in the form of some absolutely soggy and mediocre diner French fries.” Fundy says.Me too, Fundy, me too. Unfortunately we don’t have diners here and I think American food would actually kill me.

“Well you guys are free to go and do that. I have some notes to look over.” Bad smiles.NERD

“I’m sure you do.” Quackity huffs, standing up.How the tables have turned. He was a nerd before in the chapter and now he’s a bully.

Sam and Foolish hover behind a bit so Charlie rushes ahead towards Fundy and Quackity to give them some privacy. They all have each other but Charlie thinks maybe they need one another more right now.Charlie <3 I love him so much, my little analyzer. No, he would be a good therapist, he can read people well and that’s a good quality in a therapist.

~~~

Do I want to do the end part of the chapter or would I rather go to sleep?

I would rather finish this apparently.

Charlie feels drained as he watches the others eat and converse. It’s not like he has done all that much today, just zoned out in class and forced himself to laugh with his friends.Yeah, I mean, it’s definitely not like masking every day and like forcing yourself would drain your energy.

Fun fact autistic people need more sugar to function. Because brain. Like you use more brain so you need more brain food and sugar is brain food, feed your brain kids.

But for some reason after group he is just drained, maybe it’s the honesty, sucking away at his life force and proving that he should just lie more.Maybe it’s the fact you feel like you can’t be yourself around anyone and you put on a facade of being an outgoing cheery lil guy.

And when you lie it’s easier to put on a facade than when you’re being vulnerable. It’s harder to pretend you’re cheery when you have to talk about why you’re not okay.

Or just like depression in general, that makes you tired too.

You can pick.

The weight in his chest is gone though, and it has been gone since he started trying to open up so maybe he shouldn’t stop.Heheh, is that unmasking? Is that getting rid of some of that burden? Getting some of that weight off of your chest?

Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Forgot you say that in english for a second. Oops.

Yeah, imagine getting the weight off of your chest makes the weight in your chest be smaller. Imagine.

“I’m just saying, we’re seniors next year then we go to college so maybe it’s better for me to cut my losses. Besides long distance never works.” Quackity says, in response to Fundy’s encouragement that he should just try communicating for once.Loser, biggest loser to exist.

But no, I get it. It feels pointless to try when you think you know it will end soon no matter if it succeeds or not.

But that doesn’t mean he should give up.

“Hey!” Ponk interrupts frowning. “Long distance can work.”She’s protecting their relationship, it’s like what Quackity said brings up some insecurities, isn’t it?

“Four hours isn’t even that long I’d a distance it’s fine.” Sam says, trying to calm Ponk down.

Boyfriend behavior.

“Technically two, if me and Sam just both go to you.” Foolish adds.No, but their relationship is so healthy and it’s amazing to see.

“Maybe you won’t even be that long distance.” Fundy points out. “I mean, have you even started thinking about college.”Voice of reason, Fundy, is here. Everyone clap.

“Yes.” Quackity says, certainly.

Nerd.

“I haven’t.” Fundy, shrugs.Loser.

I said it before, but this is surprising to me. Like in retrospect it makes sense, but I fully expected Quackit not to think about that yet and Fundy to have already picked it out.

Like me seeing Quackity vs Fundy I was like, yes, Fundy the naturally smart guy will apply to colleges early and everything. But Quackity is the one who is an actual nerd he is the one who tries ins school and he is fucking smart. He might not be “naturally” smart like Fundy, but he is very smart. The “naturally” smart is something I reflect from my own life. I mean it as: being told you’re really smart and math coming easy to you without studying etc.

“Better to do that sooner rather than later.” Charlie says thinking about his own rush to write essays and find scholarships. His bad grades hadn’t left him with many options but plenty of small schools had at least looked at his applications.Aw. No but that’s a bit sad. I hope he gets a scholarship, american colleges/universities fucking suck, I can’t imagine getting into debt to get education.

But I guess it’s good he’s thinking about it so early.

Thankfully though one far enough away with a good enough reputation had accepted him. Not that his parents were happy about, Charlie doubts they would have been happy with anything short of an Ivy League school.Something something, they deffo want him to either be a doctor or a lawyer.

He should move across the world to a different country for university: less debt, more distance from family.

“Can we not talk about college.” Foolish begs. “I don’t want to think about all the debt I’m getting myself into.”Something something America, punchline. It’s too easy.

Like I am getting my university education basically for free. And not because of scholarships but because my country isn’t stupid.

“You have a perfectly mediocre football scholarship to give yourself concussions at that school.” Ponk grins.Americans and sports smh. (Sorry for hating on the US so much, I feel very sick and can’t physically restrain myself.)

Little bullying your partner never hurt anybody <3.

“We can’t all be nerds Ponk.” Sam says, but his tone makes Quackity pretend to gag.Me too, Quackity, me too. (I fr go “ew gay” every time my friends in relationships act romantic. I don't rlly know any straight couples tbh)

In response Sam kicks Quackity under the table, only to mistake Fundy’s legs for Quackity’s and end up kicking him. “Sorry Fundy.”HAH. That’s what you get for trying to be violent. Sam is very protective of the people he loves, it’s adorable. Unless is at the expense of himself.

“The other day you told me in vivid detail about sorting algorithms.” Ponk says. “Don’t start.”Hahaha, they are ALL nerds. Also that’s so autistic.

“Oh speaking of not starting.” Fundy cuts in. “Testing is coming up!”I’m unironically this person. Our leaving exams are coming up really soon and I keep reminding my school friends bcs of the stress I am under while constantly thinking about it. And I stress them out by mentioning it.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” Quackity chants moving a hand to cover Fundy’s mouth.This is pretty close to my friends’ reaction when I bring it up.

“Sucks to suck.” Foolish grins.So wise, I want to be old and wise like Foolish (I’m pretty sure I’m older than Foolish in this fic.)

“You still have to take your AP tests Foolish.” Charlie cuts in.“Shhh. This isn’t about me.”That’s so silly of him. I love ignoring my problems to feel superior to other people in a joking way.

“Hey at least after testing you guys more or less just coast until exams.” Sam says, helpfully.Yeah, actually, talking to people who went throug the leaving exams is so good to elevate anxiety.

Because the teachers always make them out to be so serious and hard to pass and all you hear about is people who failed not people who did good on them.

But people who did them will be like “Yeah, it doesn’t matter, you only need like 4 days to prepare. What do you mean you’re reading the books? Just read what they’re about online.”

“Yeah, I never did anything after testing honestly.” Ponk agrees.No, but it’s great that the people who went through it are there to give advice and like lessen the stress about the testing.

“I don’t do much period.” Charlie points out.

Me neither, but it’s fine, don’t worry Charlie.

“You’re gonna lock in.” Quackity says, pointing an accusing finger at Charlie. “We’re studying for chemistry together.”FRIENDS

Friendship

oh my god, Quacktiy is like a great fucking friend wtf

FRIENDSHIP!!!!

<333

this is so wholesome

Charlie, who usually finds himself feeling like he is staring at an impossible to climb cliff face, when testing starts, suddenly doesn’t feel as worried as he should. Maybe he can actually do this.YAAAY, that’s optimism! He’s getting a bit of that happiness back, he’s able to eat it again in little pieces. A little nibble of joy.

#101 reasons #fanfic #its honestly my favorite fanfic #best piece of literature fr fr #i wont know what to do with my life whne it finsihes #/hj

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louisfriend-ironsulfide · 1 year

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Hi! Enormous fan of your work! I was wondering if I can request a clannibal fic? Can it be from Hannibal's point of view where he is thinking about Clarice and how he likes her more than he should and then it hits him like a truck he's in love with her? Idk if this concept has been done before but I would like to read your take on it nonetheless!

Thank you!! I’m finally getting around to the stuff in my inbox (it’s been a busy month!) so I’m sorry for the long wait~

This was a very cute request, and I love this sort of thing! I’m not sure if it’s been done before, but I gave it a go. I apologise if this isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but it gave me the inspiration to write something in a rambling stream-of-consciousness style from Hannibal’s POV. It’s set at the end of chapter 101.

(Word count: 1566)

~+~

The thought that stopped him, sudden and still, as he moved to cross the expanse that separated them was one of love.

Ummm.

Love was such an immeasurably foreign and puerile concept to him, and yet he was suddenly suspended by it, like the drop of Chateau d'Yquem glistening in the warm firelight upon Clarice Starling’s skin… teetering on the edge of falling.

When had he fallen, he wondered?

For he certainly had, a long time ago.

He realized it that evening, knelt at her feet, as the last of his delusions (yes, he would admit that his goals for Mischa and the reversal of entropy had been delusions) were stripped away.

…

Over the course of the previous decade, Hannibal Lecter had found that a pleasant warmth swelled within him at the thought or, better yet, the sight of Clarice Starling. And he’d chalked it down, originally, to a deep sense of yearning for his lost sister Mischa.

Yet, he realized now that the deep-rooted sensation of pleasure that followed any mention of Clarice Starling was most certainly not related to wistful nostalgia, nor was it necessarily platonic or familial.

Kneeling before her then, with her pale skin exposed and the drop of wine still suspended in the firelight upon it, he seemed to see all at once across the bounds of his own experience.

Again, he asked himself that question; when had he fallen? Fallen; like Icarus, except it seemed as though he were falling towards the sun rather than away from it.

When had Hannibal Lecter gone from a casual observer of Clarice Starling, to an active and reverent pursuer; the type to risk his own freedom for nothing more than the pleasure of watching her run?

He thought back, and found many significant points of interest framed on the walls of his memory palace- little interactions that had slowly and periodically cemented her place in the forefront of his mind as a person of deep importance, worthy of his time and respect.

He remembered first seeing her, of course. He wasn’t sure he could ever forget it; the sound of her heels followed by her scent and then finally her face, simple and firm and steadfast.

It hadn’t been love at first sight; that was one of the very few things of which he was certain when it came to matters concerning her. He’d been intrigued by her, sure, and a little amused, but not in love.

He’d tried to toy with her, he remembered. Like a prospective buyer browsing kittens at a pet store, dangling a piece of yarn just out of the reach of each one.

Maybe he’d first begun to fall when she’d resisted his toying; when she’d toyed with him right back. When he’d tried to tear her down where she stood, picking apart all the little things he knew she’d be insecure about, and she'd met him with her level prairie gaze. She hadn’t been foolish enough to feign bravado and impenetrability. No, she’d been strong enough to admit that he’d hurt her, and then she'd shot at him right back.

Are you strong enough to point that high-powered perception at yourself? It's hard to face.

Hard to face, indeed.

He continued on, tracking through the history they shared. The next thought that came to mind - the next poignant, shining scene that encapsulated so exquisitely her essence - was the evening on which she’d returned to him after finding his ‘valentine’.

It’d been so late, and yet she hadn’t gone home to sleep her exhaustion off. She could have returned to him the next morning. But instead she’d gone straight to that dim dungeon - to the pits of Baltimore - to discuss the severed head she’d discovered at his instruction.

She’d driven through the pitch black and she’d hurried down to his basement, dripping wet and smelling so sweetly of autumn and rain and natural musk and the tiniest hints of blood from her scratch. She’d forgone the chair to sit down, criss-cross-applesauce, before his cell so they’d been even.

Do not touch the glass. Do not approach the glass.

If she’d have leaned forwards any further, her face would’ve rested against the cold surface.

If he attempts to pass you anything, do not accept it.

He remembered how she’d jumped a little at the food slider, opening by her head, with his offering of the clean, folded towel within. It was one of the few nice things he’d owned, living within his sad little box. He hadn’t, at the time, been sure of why exactly he’d offered it to her. She’d taken it and toweled her dripping hair, and he’d watched from the darkness with a sense of falling.

Little things like that had endeared him to her. Little breaches of the rules. Things she did, things she said. Every unexpected turn she took, and every time she’d returned to him without prompting.

The shock of her hair in the otherwise dim and drab holding room in Memphis; the pleasure of her unexpected company and the immense glee he’d felt knowing he’d be able to converse with her one final time before his escape.

The shock of her hair had appeared again, so many times, and it stood out to him as a significant symbol. The walls of her dedicated room within his memory palace were painted that winter-sunset orange.

So many times had the ruddish color of her hair caused his breath to stall in his chest.

Twice he’d seen it in the newspapers when in Florence, when her face had been plastered unjustly across the dreadful tabloids.

Then again he’d seen it when she’d been bounding through Virginia State Park amongst the deer, her ponytail bobbing behind her, leaving seemingly a trail of light in her wake.

And then again, when he’d caught sight of her moving, silent and deadly, along the low wall of Mason Verger’s barn with one goal in mind; finding him.

He’d been seconds away from an undoubtedly slow and excruciating death. And, yet, all he’d been able to focus on as she’d cut him loose had been the color of her hair and how endeared he’d become to her southern drawl.

Then, of course, there’d been the two sharp snicks of the Sardinians’ darts, and he’d watched her hair arc as she’d fallen to the ground.

He’d lifted her deftly into his arms- she’d freed him, and now he would free her. It’d been the first time he’d touched her since Memphis.

He’d carried her away, and thus the next phase of their relationship had begun to flourish.

The days following the incident at the barn had been strange. It’d been an exploration for them both; finally, they were able to breathe, in that place outside of time on the banks of the Chesapeake. They’d finally had the opportunity to bathe in one another’s company after such an extensive period apart.

Days of healing. Days of talk. Days of sleep and strong broth and omelettes.

And, throughout it all, Dr Lecter had retreated into a clinical mindset; he’d stepped back from his own interests and he’d forced himself to view Starling objectively, as a patient more than anything, even as he’d stripped and stitched and washed and clothed and fed her.

Dr Lecter learned that obsession from a distance was very different to obsession in proximity. Clarice Starling- close enough to touch, and still simultaneously so far away from him.

He’d had to lock himself away because he was unsure of the ways in which he may have reacted, with her being so close and so free in her own wit; all due to the deep touch of the benzodiazepines he’d given her, to aid in her development and healing.

Again, he’d foolishly blamed the rising memories of Mischa for his loosening grip on his usually iron-clad control. He knew better, now, of course.

How blind he’d been… a psychiatrist, seemingly an expert in human nature, yet he’d still been so naive to his own emotions.

His clinical facade had finally started to crack when she’d stepped down the stairs earlier that fateful evening, swathed in pale silk and completely raw in her radiant beauty.

The crack had grown as he’d sat across from her at his long dining table under the gentle glow of the candles, her lips shining from the butter sauce.

And it had broken completely when the climax of the evening had arrived; when she’d knocked the teacup from the table. He’d watched the cup shatter - felt his own mind shatter with it - and the shards were still.

…

Hannibal Lecter blinked once, and found himself suddenly back in the present; back on the floor of the drawing room.

Clarice Starling was waiting patiently, her brows furrowed as she waited for him to move; so completely and utterly statuesque was he, aside from the rise and fall of his chest.

Her lips were parted slightly… pale skin, now flushed, tinged golden from the fire… tigers-eyes cast downwards on him, wide and wild and slightly unsure… the drop of wine quivering upon her breast with each labored breath…

And again, under the light of her exquisite beauty, he felt the full force of his realization;

Love.

Ah… So this was what it felt like?

How foolish. How utterly predictable. How all-consuming.

Hannibal Lecter fell gladly, as he bent to her coral and cream in the firelight his dark sleek head.

#clannibal #silence of the lambs #hannibal #ask response #thomas harris

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asrealasadonut · 2 years

Text

This night has opened my eyes

*A Sebastian Kydd/black female oc

A/N: I’ve been writing this for about a month. It was originally meant for Austin’s character James from zoey 101 but decided to write it for my bby Seb.

(Shoutout to everyone writing Sebastian fic!! He deserves it!)

Warnings: swearing.

+This was kinda rushed so you’ll see some grammar mistakes sorry! Oc’s name is Kay btw 🙂

Chapter 1: Blue Monday

Kay didn’t care for Sebastian Kydd. All the girls in school were so obsessed with him, but she just didn't get it. He was just some guy. What was all the fuss about? Sure, he was cute. He had that whole bad boy thing about him and he drove a bright red Porsche. But so what? Girls would giggle and whisper to each other when he’d walk by. To Kay, The whole thing was eye roll inducing.

She assumed a lot of things about him. To her, he seemed like the type of guy who lived off of attention, especially from girls. She had never even spoken to the tall boy even though the two of them did share two classes. Until one day, in Spanish class. He asked her a simple question.

“Hey. Can I borrow a pencil?”

The blonde boy was turned to face her. Big eyes blinking waiting for a response.

Despite her feelings about the guy, she handed him one.

“Thank you.”

He whispered. An easy smile on his face.

She responded with a quick “sure” and that was the end of that. Until he asked her for one the next class. And the next. Then the next.

Two weeks passed and she was down 10 pencils. Which was a little odd.

The thing about Kay is that she always had writing utensils on her person. A little blue zipper bag with tweety bird on the front. She filled it with freshly sharpened pencils and various pens. She wasn't selfish about it. If anyone needed one, all you had to do was ask her. Most kids would give them back at the end of the class or until they got some of their own.

She could have said no when Sebastian asked, but then she'd look like a bitch. She was so used to giving them away at this point. She was known for it. This boy probably had things handed to him from girls all the time. And of course Kay would be a victim of his bad boy charm. She gave those things away as if it didn't hurt her a little every time.

So much so that she moved her seat to the opposite end of the classroom they shared. Was she being dramatic? Sure. But, Kay didn't take things like this lightly. They were more than just pencils. They were something in her life she had control over.

Being 17, she didn't feel in control of much. But those pencils nestled in that canvas bag were hers. They belonged to her. It was like Sebastian tried to break into that safe space. And that made her feel some type of way.

Every time she saw him in the halls she sported an annoyed frown on her face. She thought he wouldn’t notice. The way he’d laugh and nod at conversations with his friends. Oblivious to the trouble he was causing her. There was no way Kay was at the forefront of his mind. Or so she thought.

The day Sebastian walked into his 2nd period history class and saw that Kay was sitting in a different seat across the room, he was a little hurt. The two times he asked for a pencil he really needed one but the third time he hoped she’d catch on to the fact that he liked her.

He liked turning around and seeing her big kind brown eyes. It was such a simple gesture. But it was more than that to him. Everyone else at school would do anything to get close to him just because he had big house and his parents were rich.

He was known as a rebel. The guy with the car and the big house. No one really knew that big house was always empty. It got old fast. He didn’t have any real friends.

So with Kay, she saw past all that crap. She didn’t care who he was. There was no yearning in her eyes. She didn't want anything from him. It was refreshing. So, if there was something he did to upset her, he had to fix it immediately.

Kay was now sitting in the school's cafeteria eating her lunch. Alone. She sighed, putting down her pb&j. Today was the day she asked her history teacher to move seats. She was closer to the board; which was a good thing, but something was off.

Part of her missed seeing him turn around. His voice in a soft whisper. His smile made her chest tighten. It was like a quiet ritual between them. She sat in class that day and looked at him from across the room. Part of her hoped he'd look back.

“Ugh no you can't like him!

He messed up the only thing that was yours!

You can't let him get away with that just because he's cute!”

Her inner voice screamed.

Does he think those things grow on trees? Well technically yes but that wasn’t the point. She wanted those pencils back! No one has ever taken more than 2 pencils from her! What if he wanted something else in return one day. Not to mention every girl going nuts for him! She couldn't believe he got her to give in. God! He made her so frustrated!

She huffed. Her bouncing leg steadying her racing thoughts. Someone called her name.

“Kay?”

She looked up to see him. The boy she was trying so hard to avoid.

“Could I talk to you?”

It felt like she’d be caught. A deer in the headlights. She looked around as if that would help. She licked her lips. A nervous habit.

“Sure what’s up?” she tried to say as calmly as she could.

“Did I…. do something wrong?

Kay’s eyes went wide. Some kids turned to look at the both of them. Sebastian was very popular and people paid attention to everything he did. He was pretty self aware of his effect on the student body. He quickly sat down across from her. Slightly frowning as if to apologize for his presence.

“No, why?”

“Well you moved your seat away from mine in history. I thought maybe it was something I did.”

“Ah fuck.” She thought. Now she has to confront him.

“uh,’

she starts.

Her mouth felt dry. Kay didn't think he would notice her like this. She couldn't help but let her inner thoughts come out.

“You didn't do anything wrong. How could you, you’re perfect.” She laughs out nervously.

He barked out a laugh. His eyebrows knitted together.

“Trust me, I am not perfect. Why would you think that?”

She scoffs.

“Everyone else seems to think so.”

“What?” The blond boy shook his head. A look of genuine confusion on his face.

She sighs. She can’t do this. This guy had such an affect on her and she didn’t like it.

“Uh Sorry! I forgot I have a test to retake!”

A sheepish grin appeared on her face.

“I'm sorry. I'll see you around.”

Kay gets the hell out of that crowded lunchroom. She stuffed her half eaten sandwich in her bag as she ran out.

***************************************

Chapter 1 of 3

#the carrie diaries #sebastian kydd #Sebastian kydd/orignal female character #Sebastian kydd fanfiction #austin butler #Sebastian kydd/black oc

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Note

Hi ❤️

Can you pls do a story from the Father of Mine universe with the prompts 8, 64 and 101 pls? 👉👈 (preferably with the reader being the one who gets hurt)

Thank youuu, I absolutely love your writing and everything you make x

Father of Mine – Universe

8. Using fabric to try and stop their gash from bleeding so much.

64. Holding them in your arms as their life starts to fade away.

101. Yearning for them when they aren’t around.

The evil cackle.

It never stopped.

“Ya really thought ya could be happy, didn’t ya, kiddo?”

The Joker got into Jason’s face, close enough that to see his yellow teeth and smell his awful breath.

Jason lunged toward him but his wrists had been cuffed and he was chained to the wall behind him.

Y/N was shivering a few yards away from him – from the freezing warehouse and from fear.

Jason wanted to tell her everything would be OK, that he would get both of them out of there alive – or at least her.

But there were no words of comfort. Jason was slowly accepting that this might be it for them. He was bolted to the wall. He was helpless. No one was coming to save them.

Just like when Joker killed him.

“I’ll leave you alone. I won’t ever come after you or your gang again,” Jason growled. “If you want me dead, then do it.” He took in a shallow breath, “Just let her go.”

Joker laughed once more, throwing his head back.

Without hesitating, a crow bar appeared in Joker’s grip. “Just like old times, huh, sonny?”

“No,” Jason screamed as Joker raised the bar and started beating Y/N.

Jason fought against the chains that held him back. Either he was going to slice open the skin or break his wrists in the process. But he wasn’t going to stop. He was desperate to reach her, to save her.

The only reason Y/N was here was because of him.

He’d been an utter fool for thinking he could have happiness. And now Y/N’s life was the penalty for those foolish beliefs.

“Stop it!” Jason screamed so loudly that his throat felt like it had been ripped apart.

But the Joker kept beating Y/N over and over again.

She lost consciousness quickly. When, Jason didn’t know, for his vision became blurry by the tears flooding down his face.

Jason was whimpering. Whimpering in a way he hadn’t since he was a small child.

He felt a shadow loom over him, but he didn’t bother lifting his head.

“My, my, my. You really did think you could live happily ever after,” The Joker giggled into his ear.

“Just do it,” Jason cried. “Kill me.”

If Y/N was leaving the world of the living, Jason wanted to go with her. There was nothing left for him here without her.

His family wouldn’t even look at him once they found out he was responsible for Y/N’s death. There would be nothing but shame and agony for him.

“Oh, that was never the plan, kiddo. I ain’t killin’ you. No. No. No.” The Joker cackled. “You’re stayin’ alive. And you can keep livin’ in a world without your precious sweetheart.”

The next thing Jason knew, the chains around his wrists were released.

But when he looked up, the warehouse was empty.

Only Y/N’s body was left.

Jason rushed to her.

He pulled her body into his lap, holding her in his arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N,” Jason sobbed.

He used a piece of cloth from his uniform to hold against one of the dozens of bleed gashes across her skin.

But it was useless.

There was no surviving this.

Her pulse was already faint.

No ambulance would come to this part of town. And if they did, it would be too late.

Life was slowly fading from her body.

And then she was gone.

———————

Jason shot up in bed.

His breathing was heavy as he blinked quickly.

It was a nightmare. It was a nightmare. It was a nightmare.

He kept telling himself the words over and over again.

But it gave him little comfort. Because what he’d seen was completely in the realm of possibilities.

Jason looked down at the bed that was half empty. The fitted sheet and covers were drenched from his sweat.

He sighed as he got up and stripped the bed.

There was no way he was going back to sleep anytime soon, so he might as well wash the bedding.

Nightmares were nothing new to Jason. But they usually weren’t as bad when Y/N was in bed next to him. Having the comfort of her seemed to ease his mind – especially since almost all of his nightmares involved losing her.

Jason glanced at the clock on his phone: 3:17AM.

Y/N was in Paris for work, so it was already 9:17 there.

Y/N told Jason over and over again to call her at any time when she was away. It didn’t matter if she was sleeping or if she was working, if Jason’s name was on her phone, she was going to pick up instantly.

But Jason already felt guilty for everything else he put Y/N through. She didn’t need to deal with his nightmares and worries. He was a grown man, and he could handle his trauma on his own. There was no reason to drag her down with him.

Beyond nightmares, Jason always yearned for Y/N when she was gone. Her job required a lot of traveling.

It made Jason anxious.

It made Bruce and the rest of their family anxious, too.

Now that Y/N’s true parentage had been exposed, her safety was at risk for a different reason. Which meant that Bruce assigned Y/N private security wherever she went for work.

Y/F/N Y/L/N was an heiress now. And even though she did not take the last name, she was a member of the Wayne family.

It didn’t matter that no one knew she was also the only daughter of Batman. Being related to someone as rich and renowned as Bruce Wayne had its own risks.

After Jason started the washing machine, his eyes glazed over as he became lost in thought.

Maybe he could fly out to Paris and surprise Y/N. She wasn’t expected to be back for another five days.

‘No,’ Jason thought, ‘Don’t be ridiculous. She has work to do.’

Before he could stop himself, he was dialing her number.

“Jason,” Y/N breathed as she picked up on the second ring. “Everything alright?”

She always seemed to know exactly when he was not alright.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine,” he lied. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” she assured him. “I just finished getting ready. I’m waiting for breakfast from room service. And then I’m off to set.”

Jason sighed in relief.

Just hearing Y/N’s voice was easing him.

She was alive. That was just a nightmare. She’s OK. She’s safe.

“J?” Y/N asked with concern.

“Yeah, beautiful.”

“I know something’s wrong. Talk to me.”

Jason hesitated.

“Just…it was just a nightmare.”

She let out a deep sigh.

If Y/N had her way, she would always be there for Jason. She knew he hated feeling like a victim or like she had to coddle him. But he deserved to be loved and soothed.

“Want to tell me about it?” She asked carefully.

“Not really.”

Y/N paused before asking, “...was it about me, Jason?”

He didn’t want to answer.

“Jason?” She pushed.

“Yeah,” he finally admitted in a mumble.

“I’m OK, Jason. I’m right here,” she cooed.

“I know. I know,” he rubbed his face. “It just…every time, it feels so real.”

“I know,” she told him.

There was a comfortable moment of silence.

“I miss you,” she hummed. “I miss you a whole lot, actually.”

“I miss you, too.”

“I went to the Bouquinistes on the Seine River yesterday, just like you told me to.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jason sat down on the couch with a shy smile. “Get any good books?”

“No,” she sounded disappointed. “I don’t trust myself to pick the right ones. I need my personal book recommendation and bibliophile with me.”

Jason chuckled at that.

“Hey, I was thinking. Maybe next trip I have…you can come with me,” she offered shyly.

“I’d like that,” Jason agreed.

“Think Gotham can survive without you for a week or so?” She asked through a smile.

“Yeah, I think it can.”

There was a knock on her hotel room. Loud enough for Jason to hear over the phone.

“Oop. That’s my breakfast,” she explained.

“I’ll let you go,” Jason tried to tell her.

“I can eat and stay on the phone, Jason.”

“No, you’ve got to start your day. I’ve already bothered you enough.”

“Jason,” she scolded. “You’re never, ever bothering me. OK?”

He hesitated before answering, “OK.”

“I love you,” she whispered. “And I miss you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

When he hung up, Jason immediately noticed how much of the tension in his body had disappeared. His heart rate had calmed. His skin wasn’t covered in fresh sweat.

Jason decided to take a shower and then do some research on the case he was currently working.

There was no more sleep left for him tonight, so why bother?

When Jason emerged from the shower, he saw a text notification on his phone from Y/N.

He immediately smiled when he opened it. There were two photos: one of Y/N’s very classic French breakfast and another a selfie of her taking a giant bite out of a croissant.

Jason responded with, “I know if I was there, you wouldn’t share any of that with me.”

She instantly replied with, “Guilty.😅”

But that wasn’t the last of her photos.

10 minutes later, Y/N had sent Jason a video from the car taking her to set. It was the early morning quiet of Paris. Y/N had a way of romanticizing the simplest of things. That was probably would made her such a good photographer.

30 minutes later, Y/N made a jump cut of the entire crew individually saying, “Bonjour, Jason!” Everyone was smiling and waving. Half of them had thick French accents. And none of them seemed to be concerned with the fact that they had no idea who Jason was.

Jason knew what Y/N was doing. She was trying to remind him throughout the day that she was doing OK. She refused to let his subconscious poison his mind with nightmares of possibilities. If she couldn’t ease his mind in person, she was going to do it virtually.

An hour later, Y/N sent a video that she’d clearly asked someone to take for her. It was her working on set, directing the models and giving polite commands to her crew. French New Wave music was blasting.

Jason smiled proudly at how Y/N had complete control over the giant production. She was respected and people in the industry seemed to love working with her.

Next, Y/N sent a photo of Y/N’s makeup with the text, “Makeup department offered to do my makeup for my dinner tonight. I asked them to make me look like Brigitte Bardot.🇫🇷”

“You look beautiful. Bardot’s got nothing on you,” he quickly replied.

“Impossible,” she answered.

An hour later, Y/N sent a video of her at a restaurant, having dinner with some of the crew and models. “Everyone’s asking about you,” she texted with the video.

Jason received the final text at 7PM Gotham time, 1AM Paris time.

It was a photo of Y/N with no makeup, hair wet from a shower, and under the covers of the hotel bed.

“Wish you were here 😔,” she texted.

Jason realized she was definitely naked under those feathery covers. “Now you’re playing a dangerous game, beautiful.”

“What ever could you possibly mean?” She feigned innocence.

Jason had enough of texting and FaceTimed her.

Y/N picked up his phone giggling.

“You’re something else,” Jason growled.

“I’m innocent!” She cried.

“You and I both know you are a lot of things…but innocent is not fucking one of them.”

All Y/N could do was laugh.

“Thank you for all the photos and videos,” Jason told her softly.

“You liked them?”

He nodded. “Of course I did.”

“Are you feeling better?” She asked.

“Yeah,” and he was. “All thanks to you.”

Before she could say anything, Jason quickly added. “You’ve had a long day. I don’t want to keep you up. I just wanted to say goodnight and tell you I love you.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed. “So tell me.”

Jason laughed and shook his head at her bluntness.

Then he got quiet.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing. You’re just so beautiful.”

“Stopppp,” Y/N whined as she pulled the covers up to hide her face.

“OK. OK. OK.” Jason surrendered. “I love you. Goodnight.”

“Love you, too.” Y/N replied sleepily.

-----------------

Deeply apologize if there are a ton of errors. I wrote this in like 2 hours 😬 Let me know if you liked it!!!

Father of Mine – BONUS CONTENT

#father of mine #father of mine bonus content #jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #bruce wayne x daugher #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #batboys #batfam #jason todd angst

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hargrieve · 2 years

Text

hargrieve’s fic recs — jan 2022

hello!! I am still alive!! and I am back (late) with a bunch of fic recs! this is just from january; I’m planning on posting a separate nov/dec post too. thanks for still being here, if you have been following for this series! sorry that the content slowly swerved away from strictly haikyuu fic recs—whenever season five drops (and I hope they do take as much time as they need) I’m going to be back with a fury. in the meantime, I hope you enjoy reading kang taehyun as much as I do

hi @ravenclawboys I am miraculously still kicking

ALSO if any of these links aren’t working, please do let me know

FANDOMS: Haikyuu!!, Tomorrow x Together, Enhypen

Haikyuu!!:

and the birds looking for a place to land. by asynchrony

kageyama/yamaguchi; rated Gen; 2.5k words; 1/1; yamaguchi pov

canon compliant, karasuno first-years in their third year. yamaguchi watches and yearns

really genuinely such a gorgeous study of kageyama through yamaguchi, yamaguchi through kageyama, and the karasuno first-years’ family dynamics. all of this is packed up into a very short very impactful fic

even if you don’t usually read/ship yamayama, I would encourage you to read this

ao3 asynchrony your range is awe-inspiring and genuinely i am your biggest fan

Creative Problem Solving 101 by ftld

sunaosa; rated M; 3.3k words; 1/1; osamu pov

college au in which they are friends with benefits

suna insists that sucking osamu’s dick will help him quit smoking. that’s it that’s the fic. osamu also dresses up in a mascot costume at one point

it was so very enjoyable. clowns being clowns, the true sunaosa dynamic

everything is blue by hatsuna

semishira; rated T+; 3.8k words; 1/1; shirabu pov

canon compliant relationship study

pure poetry in prose form. moments small and big in a relationship

hatsuna’s fics always have an Ending and I think it’s one of the most glorious parts about their writing

Tomorrow x Together:

minimal by sonria

tyunning; rated M; 13k words; 1/1; taehyun pov

college au in america, established relationship. very very simply (and perhaps it is this simple): in which taehyun and huening kai fall in love

I feel like there’s always one fic on each list that made me cry. this was the one. listen ao3 sonria I am a generally romance-repulsed grayromantic person and therefore usually feel a sort of impersonal barrier when reading established relationship fic, but This One Broke Me. huening kai is so in love. taehyun is so in love, and in true taehyun fashion, he tries to use facts and logic to explain it. they’re so young and they’re not perfect but it is going to work because they like each other so goddamn much. I will cry again right here right now

“It was always like this with Kai. Taehyun leaned in expecting resistance, and was surprised when Kai, eagerly, pliantly gave way.” FUCK

trip up to the moon (get a room) by orphan account

yeonjun/taehyun/huening kai; rated M; 5.6k words; 1/1; huening kai pov

au relationship study in which kai slots perfectly in-between taehyun and yeonjun

there are some lines about longing and boundaries and crossing them that are just. heart-crushing. they all WANT so much. it kills me

author has this innate understanding of who these three are as characters

rated M but lowkey it is p*rn with feelings

Enhypen:

'cause it feels right by predebut

jayhoon; rated T+; 5k words; 1/1; jay pov

college au, development of a relationship ft. jay’s friends all thinking there’s no way he’s actually dating park sunghoon

this fic is about getting to know someone in steps and integrating them into your life. though it’s an au, their core personalities and motivations and views of the world (esp for sunghoon) are excellently retained. tbh jay is one philosophical mf. what DOES love at first sight mean, jay, please enlighten me

A+++ for accurate enhypen ensemble characterization. there’s a line where sunoo asks sunghoon for his birth time to analyze his natal chart that made me ugly-laugh in public

jake's declassified uni survival guide (results may vary) by chamsae

jakehoon; rated T+; 17k words; 1/1; jake pov

australian college au in which jake and sunghoon are undergrad psych majors but sunghoon is rich and expected to marry a girl his family chose. which is a big plot point but the story is not about that; the story is mostly about jake: college student, down bad, all up in his head about it

ft enhypen ensemble as other college students and affiliates. long-suffering park jongseong. rascal nishimura riki. plus some txt members

what i really liked about this fic is that it’s a college au without relying on college au tropes, esp in terms of characterization. i think this is my favorite jake pov i’ve read so far

recs from dani (all haikyuu!!):

Final Boss by saltedpin

ushioi; rated M; 42k words; 5/5

canon divergent university au

summary: “It’s totally fine, though – Oikawa can, temporarily at least, put aside a grudge that was six years in the making for the sake of trying to impress his coaches and senpai. // Or at least he could, if Ushijima weren’t so obviously and blatantly staring at his ass.”

Botched Dating Escapades by zimriya

kagehina; rated E; 16k words; 1/1

canon compliant, post-timeskip, msby schweiden era

summary: “The holiday love story of Hinata “I Think You Have Big Dick Energy” Shouyou and Kageyama “You Think I’m a Big Dick?” Tobio.”

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pastxlscorp · 3 years

Text

Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.2)

Chapter II: Exigence

✿ Word Count: 2.6k

✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Mitsuya POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, manga spoilers, slight angst + smut

“You look so pretty while you’re sleeping.”

The tender voice-- so gentle, so sweet-- it began to echo within his mind. He, at first, had thought he was dreaming but that voice-- oh that beautiful voice, it tempted him so dearly. He began to chase the voice, following it through the mess of his mind, his thoughts, firmly clasping it and--

It isn’t you.

He opened his eyes, closing them instantly again as the light burned them intensely. He waited a few seconds before trying again, his eyes beginning to readjust as the light became calmer and more bearable. He was face to face with a woman-- he couldn’t seem to recognize her. Her voice, her pleasant voice… it had sounded too similar to your own, he could’ve sworn it was you, laying beside him naked with your head drooping over him as you admired him sleeping. Looking closer upon the woman in front of him, he recognized her as one of his classmates and member of his Home-Economics club. It began to come back to him slowly, how exactly he ended up here. It was just the usual after all, sleeping with women to satisfy his needs-- or rather, his suppressed desires.

He happened to only share one class with you-- of course, it was Designer-101. In this class, the professor would instruct and teach you about the most trendy styles going on, or some older styles that were coming back in fashion and how to incorporate them into your works. It was a very intricate class but you both were determined to accomplish your dreams, even if it meant passing this dread of a course. However, as hard as it might be, Mitsuya fully enjoyed every aspect of the course because it was fun to clash styles, colors, and fabrics just to accomplish the final design. He had noticed you took great pride in this class, too, and even incorporated these color schemes into your lighting and filter ideas. While he’d never admit it to your face, his heart fluttered seeing your eyes gloss over your masterpiece and grin, taking a few moments to admire your work. He rarely bothered you in this case for this exact reason, although he couldn’t help the occasional tease, just to see your squirm.

┃ “Y/N, dear, are you alright? You seem to be struggling a little bit with this embroidery pattern.”

┃ “Sorry, Professor! I’ll get the hang of it quickly, I’m sure, just a small obstacle!” You reassured him, giving him the warm smile Mitsuya mourned losing and wished he could see from the receiving end just once more.

Unbeknownst to you, Mitsuya had eavesdropped on the entire conversation table next to yours. You had attempted to choose a seat that was far away from him, but he picked up on that quite quickly and decided, just out of spite, to sit the table directly horizontal from you. Desperately yearning for a small scrap of your attention, he quickly stepped besides the Professor but composed himself before saying

┃ “Professor, if I may… since Y/N seems to be having a rough time, I can help them out. If that’s with your permission, of course, sir.” He said with that bastardly shit-eating smile that made your stomach turn inside out while wrapping his arm around your shoulder. It was the smile that captivated teachers with it’s innocence and purity-- if only they knew that it was the mischievous smile that you were accustomed to seeing after he was done with you.

Before you could offer a rebuttal, your professor smiled genuinely and nodded, thanking Mitsuya before walking off and mumbling how he was such a good kid. As soon as your Professor had made it to the other side of the enormous classroom, Mitsuya turned to you, shit-eating grin beginning to form into a devious smirk as he finally had some alone-time with you.

┃ “Hey baby~” His voice came out smoothly like butter, words falling out of his mouth as if this was the entire script planned out in his head. Little did you know, it was.

┃ “You’re only helping me figure this embroidery pattern out, that’s it, no rebuttals, nothing more. Got it?” You spat harshly, making that smirk on his face quickly turn into a scowl as you once more rejected any flirtatious opportunity he threw at you.

He scoffed, not acknowledging your question with a nod or even the common courtesy of a reply, but he moved off to the other side of the table to grab the needle that was engraved in the cloth you were attempting to sew on. Even though he moved on pretty quickly, your words had stung him deeply, as it made it clear to him any romantic opportunity he had with you had been reduced and diminished into nothing. He placed it in front of you, motioning his hand for you to continue what you were doing before folding them over his chest. You growled, assuming that this was him punishing you for not reciprocating his flirts. However, it ended up being the exact opposite, as he intently observed your stitch, attempting to pinpoint where you were going wrong. Your accuracy was fine, your hands enwrapped the needle firmly but gently as you intertwined it within the cloth and there, he had picked up on what you were doing wrong. He carefully set himself behind you, having his chest press against your back as he wrapped his arms around you to hold your hands. The surprise caught your breath and made it hitch, feeling his ice-cold hands gently coddle your warm ones, balancing out the heat. Catching on to your growing flustered state, he smirked but his voice disguised it perfectly as he explained your mistake to you while beginning to guide your fingers through the cloth.

┃ “Your accuracy, your grip, all of that is perfect, sweetheart. Your mistake is you pull the needle out too early before allowing it to catch proper depth within the cloth. That’s why the final design comes out messy.” He explains, his words sounding almost like a textbook, professional, informative, while also comforting your tensed shoulders with his velvety voice and pet names as he continued to guide your hands until you reached the end of the segment.

Subconsciously, you had begun to relax in his grip, leaning your back into his chest as you finally perfected the technique with little help from his assistance as he withdrew his hands and allowed you to continue without him, setting his hands on the table and caging you in. He took the moments of silence to indulge in the warmth of your back pressing against him, a moment that came so rarely yet drove him insane every time your skin happened to graze him. You, on the other hand-- your mind was far from relaxed. You questioned why he was being so tender with you when he was so rough with you earlier, unprovokingly shoving you to the ground and humiliating you in front of your classmates. You opened your mouth to question him, but reluctantly closed it once you realized you wouldn’t get a real answer if you questioned him. After all, after being so kind the next day he’d return to normal as if nothing happened-- as if there was no spark between you both. He awoke you from your thoughts by placing his fingers below your chin, softly lifting your face to meet his own.

┃ “Cat got your tongue? Or maybe I will, soon~” he giggled to himself, grinning down at you, this time a genuine smile that expressed pure delight.

┃ “What happened to us, Mitsuya?” You bluntly asked, causing him to tense, his smile forming into a poker face as he contemplated your question carefully.

Months-- months ago, you were standing there after school after one of their club meetings next to the campus entrance, waiting for someone as she told him. He offered to wait with you but you told him it was okay-- no, you shooed him off, giving him some excuse as to why he couldn’t wait with her. A little arrow pierced through his lovestruck heart but he nodded and walked away, however he did not leave. He remained across the street hiding in the corner, far enough for her to not notice he still remained on campus grounds but close enough to still see her patiently waiting. He insisted his duty as her club president was to watch over her and ensure her safety, of course, there was nothing special about that. Any club member would do a little spying just to ensure their kohai’s well-being. She was pushing him away, that wasn’t normal, so surely something must be wrong. That was when that little shit Takemichi came along and his mouth fell open, in shock she knew a loser like him. Hanagaki Takemichi did not attend their university, however, he was a part of Toman, which was still growing in power. Takemichi had only joined recently but he had quickly won the hearts of Mikey and Draken, therefore anyone would think Mitsuya liked him too. How far from the truth that statement was-- Mitsuya despised Takemichi. His dumbass couldn’t fight for shit-- no brains nor brawn. During the fight with Valhalla, he was tasked with saving Baji and couldn’t even do so. Thankfully, Baji had survived his stab wounds, although the doctors informed Mitsuya and the others he was very lucky to have lived. On lesser issues, Takemichi also shows no signs of respect-- going as far as to punch the recently appointed 3rd division captain, Kisaki Tetta. What the fuck were you doing with someone like him? He watched your interaction so diligently, taking every note of laughter, smiles, and nods you gave Takemichi until Mitsuya began to feel himself clutching his knuckles so tight they looked like they were about to pop right out of his fists. Was everything you had gone through for the past few months nothing more than a game? Had he misunderstood your feelings-- was there really no spark between you both? The thought of this made his stomach drop, hitting him like a truck. No no, that was clearly the case, there was no other reason why you'd giggle so much around Takemichi, smile at him so fondly, or gaze at him as your eyes began to sparkle whenever he got enthusiastic about whatever the fuck it was he was talking about.

The next thing he knew, he was yelling at you after club hours the next day, shouting about how much of a dumbass you were, and how you failed to pick up on social cues around you. Many other insults came flying out his mouth, hitting you like bricks, piling up and causing the tears to build up. Truthfully, the entire situation was an entire blur to him. All he could remember was the close proximity of your faces as he yanked your chain when you attempted to talk back, which is when he noticed the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to fall if provoked any further. You were released from his grip instantly and in a calm voice, he allowed you to exit, a loud sniffle accidentally slipping out of your lips as you ran out of the room before he could see you cry. He stared at you blankly, reminiscing before releasing your chin from his gentle fingers and backing away from you as he replied:

┃ “I could ask you the same.”

You remained looking at him for a few moments, before deciding it wasn’t worth engaging with him. He watched as you carried your project back to your designated locker, locked it, and put on your backpack before asking the professor if you could leave since it was time to go. Glancing at his watch, he announced class was dismissed and you quickly rushed out before bumping into Hakkai directly outside the door to the left, who was waiting for Mitsuya. You apologized to him instantly, to which he smiled and patted your head. A conversation ensued between the two of you and as Mitusya walked out, he saw the two of you engaging and laughing. It almost identically mimicked the way you acted with Takemichi, innocently smiling and staring at him so adoringly. He envied the comfortability you both shared in your relationship, the air bubbling with chemistry. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s staring until one of his club members taps his shoulder, greeting him and complimenting his outfit.

┃ “Hey, Kashi! Love your jacket, is it new?”

Now he’s here, back at his place with one of his kohai’s as he pushes her into the wall, roughly kissing her and quickly unbuttoning her shirt as she unzips his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and soon the rest of their clothes follow. Moans and groans fill the room, although most of them are hers. He’s painfully silent throughout their session, too frustrated to really focus on her-- however, she’s too accentuated on her own pleasure to notice he’s simply using her as a stress reliever and nothing more. There’s nothing wrong with her, she’s beautiful, she’s skilled, talented, kind, but she’s simply not you. She looks nothing like you but her voice, oh god her voice, it sounded almost just like yours. Her moans made his skin heat up, imagining it was your warm silky hands embracing him, you begging him to love you more. It was enough to satisfy him for now, just enough to pretend the woman he was pleasuring so much was you. She moaned his name and he bit his lip, using all of his might to fight the instinct to moan out your name instead. His slams grew harsher and tougher, releasing all of that pent up desire and anger in single strokes. The rest of the night was a blur, as soon as he pulled off the condom he went to sleep, bored of her.

┃ “Kashi~”

He sighed, remembering his idiocy of yesterday evening and how he��d now have to gently reject this girl without letting her know he simply used her as a distraction. He spent a good minute contemplating her name before she spoke to him again.

┃ “Kashi? You alright?”

┃ “Mmh, sorry... just tired.”

┃ “Ah, it’s fine sleepyhead~ you know, yesterday was really fun, we should do it more often. How about a date tonight?.”

┃ “Awh...dear… that’s awfully sweet of you… I’m just not looking for something serious right now. I’m just into one-night stands at the moment.”

┃ “Oh… oh! Maybe we could be sex partners then?”

┃ “Ah, Sure… sure.” He privileged her with a smile of pure pity, relaxing his head back on the pillow, hoping to drift back to sleep so once he awoke she’d be long gone. The plan was if she ever reached out for sex again, he’d just come up with some excuse on how he was busy finishing a project. His mind drifted off, thinking about seeing you in class, only to remember it was a Saturday and that meant he didn’t have class with you-- in fact, Saturday’s were a relatively free day for him. He booked himself with classes every other day and decided he should have at least one day off. You know what that meant? He’d have to fucking dread it with this chick until she took the hint and left. The faster he fell asleep, the sooner this day would be over. He didn’t bother to listen to the woman as she continued speaking to him, closing his eyes as he censored her out and slowly drifted back to sleep.

tags: @haiq-trash, @blackmysticalsimp @the2ndl @bren-heron

a/n: f in the chat for anyone who thought bully! Mitsuya had healthy coping mechanisms, also you should check out @darenimo if you already haven't because she helped me proofread this chapter and gave me all of her commentary while reading it and I sobbed for a good 10 minutes straight. I love she.

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bogkeep · 3 years

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let's see if i can wordsify this cluster of thoughts, about Questions. questions are good. it's good to be curious. it's good to yearn for understanding. it's good to accept your ignorance and make yourself vulnerable in it. it's a good instinct to question everything. we form communities by sharing our knowledge and we pass it down. we form connections by asking in a million different ways; is it okay to hold your hand? you SHOULD ask, it never hurts to ask, but understand this: there are two parts playing and yours is only one, answers are heavy and you might not even know how much you have even asked for. you probably had no way to know.

when a stranger reached out to me in a twitter DM, 'hi, i want to write about a transgender character in my story, can i ask just a quick question?" and yes, that is a noble cause, and i feel so flattered when someone values my thoughts and trusts my opinions, i genuinely love to contribute to these things - but the question turned out to be something like "what did it feel like when you transferred to another gender?" and thought, OH BOY, and then i spent the next hour and a half writing out a lecture in Trans and Gender 101 from the very ground up. the asker thanked me for broadening their understanding, and i do not regret doing so - i could easily have said 'i'm sorry but that's a very big question, here are some resources on being trans", or even "i'm sorry but i cannot help you".

or when i am asked - multiple times throughout my presence as an On Line Artist, "how do i draw good?" "what is your process?" and i want to tell you, i want to open my ribcage like a wardrobe and pull out a coherent ribbon of words condensing two decades of my life and thoughts and experiences to let you know, but i do not have the time the blood the bones to even BEGIN, the best i can do is to whittle down your questions to itty bitty pieces. people go to SCHOOL to learn these things, for YEARS. i am just one person and i haven't even gotten paid for this. i know you hoped the answer would be a short one, an easy one. or maybe you didn't! maybe you know, this is a big thing to ask, but it never hurts to ask. and it doesn't hurt to ask, but it might hurt to answer.

every person belonging to a marginalized group of some kind knows this. there are so many people who want to KNOW and UNDERSTAND, and that's a good case scenario, and they have to straddle the line between bridging those gaps and "i don't owe you answers and education". how many painful anecdotes do they have to share to help us get it? and that's the paradox, isn't it - they HAVE to share their private pain for everyone to see so other people can know about racism, fatphobia, ableism - the injustice and unfairness they suffer and many ignore or misconstrue. answering questions like a prayer to be believed and understood and sometimes the reward is only more questions.

don't even get me started on "BUT I'M JUST ASKING QUESTIONS". so far we have assumed good faith, and so often it is not. there's the bone deep exhaustion of explaining as best you can to someone who genuinely wants to listen, and there's the even deeper well of tiredness when confronted with someone who has decided not to. it is bad enough to have to deconstruct misinformation in order to share actual, well-sourced facts, which takes a lot more energy than just making shit up. even worse when the questions are traps, construed to snap shut around you, they might ask is it true that you burn churches after eating babies? and by starting to explain that you don't eat babies at ALL you have already made their question a legitimate one by engaging with it. so you don't, and they'll tell everyone how you're avoiding the questions.

of course we need to keep asking questions. ask questions with intent and understanding and a willingness to listen. but remember that every answer is a gift. a ribcage ribbon freely given. sometimes the answer will be no. you are not owed.

#too long for twitter #is this anything #also yes there are volunteers and paid educators and it is work for a reason

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sweeterthansammy · 3 years

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Pillow Riding || Day 3

Blaise Zabini x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

A/N: I don’t like the ending 😀

Blaise had been spending hours, day and night, studying for the upcoming NEWTs. Y/N had done the same but she was becoming exhausted. She took minimal breaks in between her studying sessions - not taking too long of a break because of how important this examination was - however, that didn’t mean that Blaise did.

He was locked up in his shared dormitory with Draco, the two of them in their own little spaces. Y/N had attempted to make a visit once, only to start an argument with Draco shortly after because he told her to go away.

“Blaise, you’re really going to let him talk to me like that?”

“Princess, I’m sorry,” he’d start. “I’ll see you sometime, just not now.”

It had been about two weeks since she’d last seen him, a yearning for release pent up in her body. She took matters into hands of her own. Before she and Blaise had gotten together, also if Blaise had gone away, her two remedies were none other than pillow riding and masturbating to a video that Blaise had made specifically for her.

Riding a pillow required far more work than anything but the feeling of having something graze against your skin felt amazing. She gripped onto the pillow, her thighs buckling onto the edges as her hips rolled forward, then backward, then forward, and backward.

Her moans were light and airy, one hand leaving the pillow to hold onto the headboard while the other trailed up her Blaise’s shirt, groping her breast. Without her knowledge, Blaise apparated to the center of her bedroom. He was quite amused, his eyes shaking up her body as he quietly took a seat at her desk.

He was in awe, moans and chants of his name leaving her mouth as her eyes were stuck onto the video of him mercilessly pounding into her cunt. His breath was hitching every now and then, his eyes fixating on the growing bulge in his joggers. He looked up once more, slouching on the chair.

He pulled the joggers down to his best ability, his member hitting his lower abdomen. He took a hold of his cock, running his hand up and down his shaft. His thumb bruised over his tip, precum spreading over his cock as he threw his head back. One hand fell in between her legs, fingers massaging her folds vigorously as the other held her hair back.

“Fuck,” she groaned, biting her lip as her back arched.

She was close and Blaise knew it too. His other hand pumped his base while the other remained it rhythmic motions. She was breathing heavier and heavier, the knot in her stomach getting ready to unwind as her thumb circled her clit.

Her walls tightened around her fingers, her other hand spurring her folds as she came on her fingers. Blaise slowed his movements, kicking his bottoms aside as she continued to finger herself - this time at a slower pace.

“That was hot,” Blaise hummed, standing to meet her at her bedside.

“What the fuck, Blaise!”

She jolted at the sound of his voice, her hands flying away from her cunt as she looked up at him.

“I apparated here,” he briefly explained. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out but it seems as if you’re busy.”

Her cheeks flushed a bright red, her eyes cutting over to his swollen tip. She slowly looked into his eyes again, turning so her knees were adjacent to his built thighs.

“I can help you with that,” she offered, her hands splaying themselves on either of his hips.

“I had other things in mind.”

She pouted at that.

“I was thinking we should make another video instead.”

Her face then lit up.

Taglist: @yaanasluv @tovvaf @j-face-67-05-06-20 @eunoia-kth @thatcatsit @apieceofuniverse @bridemonspawn @lestrangeesme @hpbitch @rudypankowisdaddy @oleariaux @kelsiejayy @calums-ding-dong @danielsharmannn @zhangyixingxing1 @arianabrashierstuff @fan-girling-101 @ficticiouscreativity @milazka @snoopydoop1 @hufflrpuffforfred @adoregin @ilovejjmaybank @canibeoneofthepogues @mrspadfoot4 @georgeweasleysbabe @fweasleysimp @akalittletimmytim @kaitieskidmore1 @amourtentiaa @ftwert @wholebigboxofyikes @lainerain17 @cami05sworld @slytherclawdiggory @kittykylax @fific7 @toxicmodernity @anchoeritic @buckyswildflower @ch0kemedracomalfoy @hoghfunctioningfangirl @fanficscuziranout @tomshollandz @partr1dge

#blaise zabini #blaise zabini blurb #blaise zabini blurbs #blaise zabini smut #blaise zabini x y/n #blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini x reader #smut week #pillow riding #harry potter smut

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marvelatthetwilight · 3 years

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Everyone feels lonely

Anonymous asked: I love the way you write Demitri...if you have the time I would love a Demitri imagine with 32, 44, and 28. I think they would be good for something angsty. Thank you!

32 - “When I’m with you, everything's okay again.”

44 - “Hey don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

28 - "Please stay with me… I don’t wanna be alone.”

A/N: I did it. 750 followers! Wooooooooo! The first of many imagines to be posted. In theory they are around 750 words. In theory. Enjoy!

It had been six months since you met eyes with Demetri across the Great Hall whilst the tour group you had joined last minute was decimated in front of you.

You had always enjoyed being on your own, you would always rather stay in and read a book than go out with friends, would rather go to the cinema on your own than go clubbing with your colleagues, it was just the way you were. So when the opportunity to go on a solo trip to Italy landed in your lap, you had to go, even if your friends and family thought you were crazy.

On that fateful day six months ago, a beautiful tour guide (who you now know to be Heidi) had offered you one of their exclusive weekly tours of Volterra Castle. The castle intrigued you, Heidi intrigued you, and you felt compelled to agree, following the group through the large doors.

You were so distracted by the intricate carvings around the door frames that you didn't notice the menacing look on the faces around you. You didn't notice what was happening until the first ear-splitting scream. Your attention suddenly snapped to the massacre in front of you, eyes moving quickly from one person to another, the life quickly fading from their bodies. That's when you saw him, those bright red eyes locked on yours, and somehow, despite the bloodbath, you felt safe.

He wrapped an arm around you, cloak shielding your eyes from seeing any more horror, speeding you away safely to his room.

In the six months you had spent in the castle, time had passed slowly. Whilst you wanted nothing more than to spend eternity with Demetri, waiting for your date to be turned still felt like a death sentence. You desperately yearned for the date to be over and done with so you could get on with life, and no longer spend your days locked in Demetri's room for his fear of something happening to you.

He worried about the guards, worried about your clumsiness...he worried about everything that could possibly cause you harm.

So here you were, trapped in a room for your own safety, for the first time in your life feeling desperately lonely. It was such an unfamiliar concept to you, such an unknown feeling that you didn't know how to cope, couldn't process it.

When Demetri returned to his room that afternoon he found you curled up on the bed, seemingly peaceful. When he moves slowly towards you, he notices the tear stained cheeks and the puffy eyes, giving away your sadness.

As he wipes a tear from your cheek your eyes slowly open, a feeling of warmth and comfort filling your mind.

"What's the matter amore mio?" He asks softly, his fingers gently stroking your face.

"I just feel so....alone." You cry, your body shaking with each sob.

"Alone? But I am here principessa...you are never alone."

"I know...but you have to leave. And I'm not allowed to leave...so I'm left all alone. But then when I’m with you, everything's okay again.”

"Oh bellissima. I'm so sorry. I'm here now though, I'll go fetch you some food and we can just hold each other?" He moves to stand but you grab his arm.

"Please stay with me… I don’t wanna be alone.”

He looks down at your face, his expression crumbling as he sits back down beside you, cupping your face.

“Hey don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer.

"I'll call Felix, and get him to fetch whatever you need, now come here."

He pulls you onto his lap, both arms wrapped around you and places delicate kisses to the top of your head. "I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here." He whispers softly.

Taglist:

@volturiwolf @wallwriterstuff @volturidoll13 @like-rain-or-confetti @moviequeen51 @raindancer2004 @officialfictionalwreck @megzdoodle @slasher-sweetie @reclusive-chicken-nugget @holl2712 @icarusinstatic @imdoingathingmom @fanfic-love-show @awesomebooklover17 @fatiguing-thoughts @blondeisboss003 @avyannadawn @winter-soldier-101 @pastelreds @foreveror-never @star-sunshine-sage @demetrivolturiswife @lovesanimals @juliannatryon @kenmasunwashedass @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx @sxturn-stars @levisteeacup @purpledragon04 @shotarosleftpinky @your-next-wife @superheavymetalunicorn @karleetakeenan @vanessafinessa473 @the-twi-light-zone @nikkitc0703 @heartsarecompatible @deepfrz @kpopgirlbtssvt @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @simpxxslutxx

#demetri volturi x imagine #demetri volturi x reader #demetri x reader #demetri volturi imagines #volturi imagine #demetri imagine

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absolutebl · 3 years

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This Week In BL

April 2021 Part 5

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Close Friend Ep 2 (JaFirst) - First is a cat. No actually a cat. It was WEIRD. Cute, but creeping towards beastiality. It reminded me of that strange series out of China (@heretherebedork says Youth in the Breeze). The most amusing thing to me was that the cat used Thai formal linguistic register when of course cats would use informal rude guu mueng with EVERYONE. No cat would use pom. Don’t be ridiculous, Thailand.

Second Chance Ep 5 - still invested, things progressed for all 3 couples, in one direction or another. They cuties. I love them. Carry on.

Y-Destiny Ep 5 - the “virgin scoreboard” is gonna make the seme real hard to redeem with this pairing. If they bother. This might be a life lesson episode. What does it remind me of? Oh yes. Kids. *SHUDDER* Point of interest: did you notice Team uses ha with Mon? What a pushy flirt.

Lovely Writer Ep 10 - honestly I just love it when Poppy shows up in anything, why is he such a delightful screen presence? (Gene’s brother) Sorry, distracted. What happened in this one? Oh, ya know, stuff and things. Family drama. (It is just me or have they been giving us some long ass episodes lately?) Obligatory beach trip activated. (Result = dumb probability mathematics jokes.) Next week it looks like we have Keeping Actor’s Closeted 101. You know the Casting Couch? This is the Casting Closet.

Fish Upon The Sky Ep 4 - early stage confession, how fun. It’s not unprecedented it just usually means we are in 4 act structure, not 3, which means Fish might go more serious than I thought. Honestly? I’m losing interest mostly because I’ve gone from mild annoyance to active dislike of Pi. Happened to me with Tine too. They better redeem this obtuse tsundere uke soon or he’s not tsundere at all he’s just a jackwit.

Brothers Ep 13 fin - a kiss and the family finds out about the not-so-brotherly brothers, drama, graduation, THE END. My side-dish happy heart made thumps over Q + delivery boy, I’m sad they got so little screen time. My babies KhunKaow did get a tiny coming out sequence as such. I’m seriously considering doing myself a bootleg of just the KhunKaow plot, but that means I’d have to rewatch the whole darn series and I can’t STAND the idea. Which should give you insight into how not good this show it. Very NOT good. Must we get a season 2? Please stop now, Line.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 7 - Muren is the cutest peanut and anyone who says otherwise can fight me, although they probably have to go through Licheng first. I was NOT invested in these two at the beginning, but as a couple? They own my soul. The other storyline is still the dumpster fire that I can’t decide to roast marshmallows over (knowing they’ll get tinged with eu de trash) or flee from in horror clutching my pearls and my nose. H4 continues to provide the quality psyche torture I’ve come to expect from this franchise. *sarcastic thumbs up* *** A word on seeing Boxiang show up (side dish from H3:MODC). It was an unexpected pleasure, I loved his pairing (May/December is a winner for me *glares at Method*) but I do think it was a bone from the franchise telling us that we are never getting that spin-off or reboot that people yearn for. However, how AWESOME that Licheng has someone to go to and ask about topping properly. Otherwise he’s sure to have screwed it up. (Pun intended.)

Papa & Daddy (Tailwan) Ep 1-2 - this came out of nowhere and is ADORABLE. Applies a ton of BL tropes (cheek kiss, his closet, B&W stripes, drag baby around, boop) but what IS it? More slice of gay domesticity than romance. Like 2019′s Kinou Nani Tabeta? or currently airing Close Friend. I enjoy this style, very wholesome, but I’m not sure what to call it. (Bonus points for cutie lesbians.) A bit weird to have a kid with your partner and STILL not be out to your parents. I hope they aren’t going to throw in a break up for dramatic effect.

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam) Ep 4 - I’m really enjoying this series. It’s unabashedly queer, although there’s some problematic stuff lurking under the wig. How it ends is gonna dictate if they handled this stylishly. But hot damn the leads ZING on screen together and their crackling prank-flirting is a joy to watch.

Word of Honor (China) Ep 31-33 - moving into the home stretch. Big rescue and the band is back together (presumably for the final slaughter). Then a death! *this is my shocked face* Did I tear up? Of course I did. 4 act structure is designed for maximum pathos during the final 1/4. Did we all faint from the symbolism of the love token hair stick being gently thrust into Ah Xu’s bun? Sure we did. All that and sill I’m flagging. This is a long-arse show. Save me, Korea, with your iItsy bitsy teenie weenie...

Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (Korea) Ep 5-6 - I am getting such strong 12th Night vibes from this. Tae Hyung is now brigadier of BL’s historical himbo brigade. (To be deployed whenever you are in need of poetry or a cut sleeve.) This show is all ridiculous charm and I LOVE it. Although, five seconds of Lee Sang is not enough Lee Sang. I had to immediately rewatch Wish You.

Gossip

Nitiman gave us an actor intro BTS teaser.

Kang In Soo (AKA Kyang Insoo) posted a cute behind the photo shoot of Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding plus a silly interview with Jang Eui Soo on his YouTube channel (you should subscribe, it’s a fun channel, his fitness regime is both insane and inspiring).

My Engineer 2 dropped a couch interview with the boys but it feels like one that was filmed a while ago (oh and no subs).

STARTING SOON: Nitiman, Love Area, Top Secret Together, Be Loved in House, & I Promised You The Moon

Nitiman (Thai) May 7, One 31. University set, moons, engineering students, enemies to lovers, adapted. - Looks to be a solid 2 Moons knock off, I’m in.

Love Area (Thai) May 8, AIS Play, 10 eps total. Restaurant set, stars Pak Chavitpong (the only good thing about Cupid Coach) and the OST is sung by Jeff Satur (Ingredients). - It’s boys in love revolving around food = my kryptonite, try to stop me from watching this probable trash.

Top Secret Together (Thai) May 14, Line TV. 5 couples, one IRL (Newyear from I Am Your King), story arcs revolve around secrets. - I’m getting fatigued by these multi-couple sampler pack dramas, but I’ll try it for Newyear’s sake.

Be Loved in House: I Do (Taiwan YES!) May 20, Viki. Office set, relationships prohibited at work by a new boss, one of the employees is determined to figure out why. Grumpy/tsundere pairing so loads of drama. - I am so flipping excited for this one. A 4th BL series from Taiwan in less than a year? That’s unprecedented. GO BABY ISLAND GO!

I Promised You the Moon (Thai) May 27, Line TV. Follow up to I Told Sunset About You with the boys now at university. - I won’t be watching this as I have yet to finish season 1.

Possibly Gameboys season 2. - Rumors are all over the place right now on this.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

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woodscout-imagines · 3 years

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Heyy could you do a Pikeman x Male!reader? I don't really care much for what it's about, but your writing is really good and I'd love to see more of it :)

Breakfast Feelings

( pikeman x male!reader )

( no warnings! ) ( welcome to yearning 101! ) ( i’m super high right now. sorry if i have typos i’ll fix them in the morning )

It was a routine, by now.

every morning, pikeman would be the first up. first awake, first ready, first to eat. only once had a person awoke before him, and that was snake. snake did not sleep at all that night, though, and pikeman did not count it.

next to be awake was petrol, snake, then jermy. they all usually ate together and would be done by the time the last camper was finally up- (y/n). every morning he would wake up last, be the last to get breakfast, and would often eat alone, and be the last to the training

but sometimes, he wouldn’t be alone.

pikeman has a personal policy that no soldier would be left behind. well, sometimes they can be left behind, but it would be preferred if they weren’t. basically, sometimes if he was doing a re-run on the obstacles, he would simply place petrol in charge and sit with (y/n).

they always had nice breakfasts together.

it was mostly silent, but a comfortable silence as they sat across from one another. pikeman usually prefers not to try and talk while another has food in their mouth, so there’s also a lot of staring. a lot of staring. mainly on edward’s part.

he never meant to notice how the shitty lighting makes his skin glow. he never meant to start looking forward to his meals with the other. he never meant to wonder how his hands felt. he never meant to crush on him.

pikeman didn’t worry about his crush until it began affecting him all day.

he didn’t think it meant anything that he went easier on (y/n) because he knew that he didn’t get much sleep. he didn’t think it meant anything when his face would go red as he watched him on the obstacle course, and he’d be unable to take his eyes off of him. he didn’t think it-

you get it.

(y/n), our handsome (y/n), on the other hand, was somehow unaware. somehow unaware how often his and his leader’s hands would always brush when they walked besides each other. somehow unaware when pikeman’s face would go red every time he would see him right out of a shower, and he would stammer a little.

because of this, pikeman assumed (y/n) was straight. his gaydar is so bad. of course, there was the possibility that he was gay and simply not into him; but that idea made pikeman upset so he just pretended it didn’t exist.

so now, as they sat across one another at the breakfast table, pikeman kept his thoughts of affection away and tried to listen as his tablemate excitedly rambled about last nights dream.

maybe one day he could figure out what (y/n)’s hands like. but right now, pikeman decided he’ll just imagine it.

#why did I make this sad what da hell #camp camp #cc woodscouts #pikeman x reader #edward pikeman #woodscouts

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years

Note

Hii, me again. 😅

Jungkook made a three syllable poem with "min yoongi" name. At the last name of "Gi" He made yoonmin. Is he try to expose that yoonmin is a thing/ or real??

Ahjumma.... why are you being like this?

What did I do to deserve this ghettory?😟 It's too early in the year to be this ghetto uno.

Don't be like that😒

You are asking me, Goldy- GOLDY of all shippers, if I think JEON JUNGKOOK is confirming his boyfriend of seven years and counting is in a relationship with another member within the same group...

Doing what exactly in that relationship??

Is JK cockholding? What's going on.

KWENCHANAYO?!

You think BTS will survive two members dating the same guy in the same group???

Never mind that it's Jeon Jungkook and Park freaking Jimin- Mr I'm greedy and Mr I don't share my friends.

Like make it make sense to me please😭

After everything we've been said on my blogs for months now, you still asking me this??

You are bold, I'll give you that.

Now tell me slowly and in coherent words why I shouldn't pull your hair and give you three quick punches to your throat- ninja style👀

Someone get her before I snap their neck💀

For the last time-

NEITHER 🤺OF🤺JIKOOK🤺 IS 🤺 WAS🤺 HAS🤺 HAD🤺 PURPORTS TO HAVE🤺 WOULD HAVE HAD🤺 COULD HAD HAD🤺 HAD HAD HAD🤺IS HAVING 🤺 ANY 🤺ROMANTIC🤺 FEELINGS🤺WHATSOEVER 🤺 DESIRE🤺CRAVING🤺 WET DREAMS🤺 YEARNING🤺 PASSION🤺ATTRACTION🤺 AMOROUS 🤺INTENT🤺TOWARDS🤺 ANY🤺🤺MEMBER🤺 IN🤺 BTS🤺BESIDES🤺 EACH🤺 OTHER🤺

GET🤺 OUT 🤺OF🤺 YOUR🤺 IMAGINATION🤺

If you are new to the shipping community I suggest you familiarize yourself with every ships dynamics or at least Jikooks- if multishipping isn't exactly your thing.

Jikook's entire dynamics is founded on JK teasing JM to death. It's their thing.

He's said he enjoys teasing Jimin because he loves Jimin's reaction to when he's being teased. In fact, the entire group have said same about Jimin.

Did you see JM's reaction to when JK called out the Yoonmin comment in the dynamite reaction VLive?

Did you see RMs reaction too?

He is trying Jimin with these Yoonmin jokes. He's gonna get stabbed. Lmho.

Jimin reacts strongly to when JK in particular teases him with ships, Yoonmin more recently. Yet he didn't seem to mind when V did it.

V used to be the biggest Yoonminer on the planet rooting for and encouraging certain interactions between Yoonmin. Lmho.

Jimin himself perpetuates Yoonmin as a ship.

It would be an insult on his intelligence for anyone to assume he didn't know exactly why people ship two people together or what interactions and moments is considered a moment in shipping sphere.

Statements like, why can't Suga hyung look me in the eye, why does he say I'm irreplaceable to him, insinuates something and he knows this.

Once upon a time, JK couldn't look you in the eyes too. Still can't sometimes.

Jimin has a presence and he has a hold on these men and he knows it.

He goes out of his way to create the impression he and Suga have a very close bond and dynamic- I'm sold on it. Lol.

'5 Jms? As expected. You'll fall in love with them' not sure if JM said the last bit in the BE.TS Vlive, yall check for me.

It's crazy then that he turns around to react the way he does when JK teases him with his ship with Suga.

It seems to me, Jimin knows the intent and energy behind such seemingly harmless jokes- JK can be petty and passive aggressive with these things. You'd think he is joking but deep down he would be pouting and throwing tantrums behind cams🤧

It's Jimin apologizing and looking like his spirit left his body as he sat on the edge of JK's bed in the new Jersey VLive for me.

He needs to free Jimin.

Talk of things I'm getting too old for- Let's talk about why he posted his version of the bridge in disease online🤧

Not to say he shouldn't have posted it. I support that he did wholeheartedly. Deadass found his groove since he started unbuttoning the front of his shirts in 2020.

He's reclaiming the spotlight, putting himself at the forefront unlike before where he'd resigned himself to a supportive role watching his hyungs be at the center of things.

Now he's been talking about that he wants have sexy dance performances like Jimin, write rap melodies for RM, share his own music, try on a solo career one day- we get it. You found yourself Mr I'm independent asserting myself yall better fuxk off but chilee not at the expense of Jimin! 🤺

I mean it's a broad spotlight and they both can share it but damn is someone changing drastically. Not sure if I should be proud or terrified.

It's great and amazing and I'm really truly happy with where he's at mentally and physically since 2020- it's a great sign, don't get me wrong. Significant improvement. His becoming is long over due but he didn't have to grab the spotlight from Jimin like that.

Jk vs JM isn't something I'm a fan of.

It's a shame it didn't work out? What do you mean JK. I'm sorry but Jimin's version is amazing too!😟

What the actual hell JK😭

Back it up. This is not how to Jikook🤺

On guard sir🤺 on guard🤺

Dude did Jimin dirty🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧

I need a refund😭😭😭😭

Here I was waiting for y'all to get on your Jikook agenda and post that first Jikook selca of the year and you are there shipping Jimin with your bandmate and thiefing his shine. Who taught you that?!😥

Y'all are competitive but y'all don't compete with eachother's shine! JIKOOK 101😭😭😭

You share it😥

Show me where in the books this new development falls under. Show me

You winging it and it's unconstitutional😟

I rebuke it in Jesus name!

Someone beam me up.

You got these 13 year olds coming in my DMs telling me you are not supportive of your man's career.

I don't have time for this shit.

SOMEONE BEAM ME UP! Kirk!

If you've watched their Be behind video, and you've seen Jin talk about how RM complained to him when Tae chose Suga's version over his version you'd know where JK is coming from or where I think he is coming from having JMs version chosen over his.

Watch their Be self interview on yt too.

He said there's a melody he worked on for RM and when Jhope thought he got snubbed he recommended he release it instead- to quench his artistic drive perhaps.

That is why he released this song. He did it for himself. Like he said, he won't put out a song unless he was confident about it.

Suga have said time and again how the music and melodies they create never go to waste because they can repurpose it like he did with Telepathy I think.

Even JK explained he was reserving the melody he made for RM for a future group song.

He could have repurposed this or something.

When Jin talked about V vs JM's Christmas song and kept repeating how much he preferred Jimin's song to Tae's because Jimin"s was bright and upbeat, he made sure to clarify he wasn't implying Tae's song was bad. He was just indicating preference.

I won't lie, I was happy he preferred my bias's song but it made my VMin heart ache a little.

V and JM made very different songs, they shouldn't be compared to eachother in that way.

I don't like competitions. And I don't like when two artists are pit against eachother- which is exactly what these two versions of the bridge is doing out here.

I will literally die if in an interview JM is asked about his part and JK isn't. I can't do this😭

Those saying JM's is better make me sick, and those saying JK's is better make me nauseous. They both great. Point blank purr.

What's even more heartbreaking is hearing how excited he really was to share that bit with Army. Dude's eyes was glistening and everything. His bunny smile! 😥

Thats what makes this very hard for me.

The JJK in me is overjoyed and excited that he is doing things that make him really happy. I'm proud of him.

But the PJM in me just😕

I even feel more guilty that I prefer JM's version this time around😭😭😭😭

I feel like I'm betraying JK🤧

I was so happy seeing JM recieve all the love and attention I know he deserves.

Then here comes his boyfriend

'Hold up what about me!' Lol.

Imagine if RM releases the version of Blue and grey he made for Tae and it turns out we prefer that to the version Tae chose💀

Imagine that.

This has been a recurring theme throughout late 2020 to date. Jk's been choosing authenticity and self interests and passions over anything else and I couldn't be more happy for him.

Like we discussed, he's been learning to compromise too lately, which is great.

But honey this is a red flag. Deadass.

To me anyways😏

I've been a strong advocate for a certain level of independence and detachment in Jikook's dynamics because they lowkey exhibited codependency tendencies in their dynamics which is great for us shippers but not so great in the long run for their relationship or them as individuals .

Maybe I'm thinking out loud and prematurely here. I mean we are only beginning to have intimate access to their raw unscripted selves.

I don't think it's not that much of a big deal. RM and JM have equally shared their own versions of fake love on the internet but it is an interesting development in their dynamic to me.

I remember how happy JM was about his version of fake love, and it remains to date one of my favorite beats even though he was just spewing nonsense on that track. Lol.

He was so excited when he shared it with JK and Jin. He said when he showed it to JK the first time, JK said he loved it very much- how loving and supportive is that!

More of this please. Thank you.

PMS is a bitch y'all🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Has me in my feels about this.

I'm pretty sure JM is the one that even encouraged him to share his part in the first place. Won't put it past him.

'Ya Jungkook, release your version too'

'Army will love it'

'Right but I don't want it to seem like- Goldy is crazy you know'

'Goldy who now?'

'What about the thirteen year old fans-'

'Aht aht aht Who cares about them.'

Lmho.

I mentioned a few times on here how I felt JM seemed to have been demanding 'space' and a little bit of breathing room in their dynamic which was causing a little bit of tension here and there middle 2019 through to March last year and it all sounds like drama and speculation but...

May be if I told y'all I am a witch and my analysis of their relationship is based on mediums, phantom whisperers, empathetic readings or tarot cards y'all will leave me alone?🤥

Y'all don't seem to have a problem with the witches and empaths who be doing the same shit I do out here😒

Like we are all 'reading' these mens!

There's nothing wrong with 'psychoanalytically' evaluating a ship you know? Chilee.

Imma call myself a witch if it will get y'all off my back😹😹😹😹

I mentioned JK equally embarking on his own journey to assert himself within the group and within the relationship due to this?

But damn I did not see this one coming.

This is a red flag for me. And no, it doesn't mean they are broken up or having issues in their relationship.

Jk's TMI indicates they still been spending a lot of time together.

This is just a sign there's too much independence in their dynamic now- if you know what I mean.

Relationships flourish based on how attached we are to people- too much attachment is a problem, too little attachment is equally bad.

Jikook have always had a problem with over attachment in their dynamics in my opinion, to the point it was lowkey unhealthy- the jealousy, not being able to 'act professionally' within a group and work environment, having problems with being separated however briefly, constantly wanting to be where the other is etc.

Less attachment isnt necessarily a bad thing either. It means less of all the 'toxic' aspects of their relationship that over attachment brings but too much of that too can trigger anxiousness and insecurity and resentment.

Especially if one of them hates change. Cough Jimin.

With that comes all the wild aspects of love such as possessiveness, jealousy and I know JM doesn't do too well in that department...

In my opinion, I see JM as having a problem when JK breathes down his neck emotionally speaking, and at the same time he has a problem when he is too emotionally distant.

All this is interesting to me.

Who do I need to talk to to give me more of Jikook interactions individually or jointly?

I want to see more of their interactions beyond the overly staged, dramatized fanservice and official content.

Spending a lot of time around eachother and eating each other's ramen- pun intended, does not reflect on how intimate you are.

Intimacy requires depth and depth requires attachment.

How you treat eachother's needs and goals, dreams and desires is equally indicative of the intimacy in your relationship.

That has always been one distinctive quality of Jikook's ship.

And so I wonder the thought process that went into this decision. I know JM wouldn't object to JK sharing things like these or doing things that make him happy even if it has the potential to impact his own shine in any way.

Jikook don't compete against eachother.

I keep saying this.

Remember when I said I found it sus that JK was lying there staring at JM with his hands in between his legs?

Did yall see what the run editors said when JM and JK went up against each in the pool?

'Jikook don't play by the rules'

Jimin had to push JK in the water to end whatever ancient sex ritual foreplay rooted in kamasutra they had going on. Bless him.

And in so doing, he lost to JK.

Whenever they go up against eachother, one of them intentionally lose even though they are both very competitive.

Isn't that why JK said he'd rather 5 Jms so he can watch them compete against eachother?

When JK first made that post, I felt it was out of pettiness or a move to 'humble' JM.

I thought of when he'd posted that photo of himself with a hickey after JM had 'dated' him during the JinMinKook live.

I rolled my eyes and asked, 'what yall gays up to this time?' Why you out here humbling your man?

Anywho chilee we will never know.

At ease.

Signed,

GOLDY

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