#even if it doesn’t last the fact that it was made at all is an beautiful thing

[sanjisprincesss]

I could fall in love with you

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Synopsis: How I think the one piece men would realize they’ve got it bad for you!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Characters: Monsters trio x fem! Reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･cw: fluff fluff and more fluff! Sort of proofread

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ song credit: I could fall in love by Selena

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ LUFFY

Realized when he started to feel even more clingy towards you.

With Luffy it’s a matter of whether or not he realizes or someone around him realizes. The minute he realizes he doesn’t hold back on his feelings and tells you immediately.

He realizes when he starts to feel a s way when Sanji or anyone grazes at you in any other way then friendly. Which is a feeling he never really felt since in any other situation he wouldn’t care about if someone flirts or flaunts over you.

He starts to crave your attention and presence more and everyone around him will most likely notice.

You and Luffy sit on top of the head of the thousand sunny pointing out clouds shapes making stories and backgrounds to them. Watching the sunset a beautiful ray of colors and scenery cover the sky.

“Shishi that one looks like a sea cow doesn’t Y/N!” Your captain said pointing and laughing at a cloud that strangely resembled a giant sea creature. You look to where he’s pointing to see the cloud he’s mentioning. You can’t help but smile and laugh at the remembrance. “ yeah it does look like a sea cow Luffy!”

As the laughter begins to die down, Luffy with an unreadable expression turns to face you without saying a word. As you turn to face him his famous smile returns to his face “Y/N i love you so much! You know that right!”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ZORO

Realized when he got a little too overprotective of you even more than he’s willing to admit.

First of all, as soon as he gets the slightest hint that he’s head over heels in love with you he’s denying it and will try to deny it as much as he is possibly able to. DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT.

Which is also why he wouldn’t confess first.

Zoro is known for being the protector of the strawhat pirates, by nature he has his hand on his swords the minute the crew is In danger. It's not that he is more protective towards you than the crew, it's more like he’s more protective of you towards others that have pertenal feelings towards you. Which once again is not really his main train of thought yk.

Of course he would never admit, but he likes to have your company near him. May it be you reading a book in the crows nest while he trains or just being near him while he’s napping.

As the sun shines on the sea and everything in its path. You Nami and Robin were sunbathing on the deck as Sanji came by with fresh drinks for the three of us. Luffy Chopper and Usopp playing around the ship while laughing with zoro training in the crows nest.

“NAMI SWANN~ Y/N CHANN~ ROBIN DEARR~ I'VE MADE YOU LOVELY LADIES SOME REFRESHING BEVERAGES! SO BEAUTIFUL I COULD JUST MELT!”

He says with hearts in his eyes placing the drinks down on a table and hanging them out one by one.

“Aye, curly brows give em a break will ya!”

And that Is all you hear form the green haired swordsman before you and your friends share a knowing glare before smiling towards which other.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ SANJI

Realized he loves you differently than he would other women…

Let’s state the obvious: Sanji loves women. It’s a known fact about him. He has felt infatuation before to the point where he thought he was in love. That infatuation died down when he found another woman who crossed his path.

But with you it’s different. His infatuation turns into something that lasts. It doesn’t fade away when someone else is around him. He lowkey turns into Mr prince.

He goes that extra mile. He’s a gentleman all around and it’s really hot. He can have a conversation with you without any kind of questionable behavior or nosebleeds. No lustful stares of any sort, no signs of dirty thoughts, just quality time with his lover.

The crew had all departed ways to follow their regular duties and routines after dinner. However you stayed after dinner to help Sanji with the kitchen while of course he always insisted that there was no need for you to worry your pretty little head.

You always insisted on helping and how could he ever say no to you. So there you two are, wasting and drying dishes. One by one.

“ I wonder what different types of fish and seasonings are in the all blue?” “What color do you think the water is there?” You ask him while drying a plate. As he passes the next dish that needs to be dried.

“The all blue hm…you know just what to ask me, don’t you? A beautiful girl like you deserves a gorgeous answer.. don’t you think?” You nod while putting the last dish away.

“Let’s see..if I had to think of a color, one that matched the idea of all the world's fish swimming together.. I’d say sky blue. A brilliant sky blue it has to be!”

#STARS WORK ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ #one piece x reader #op x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #luffy x black reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x black reader #sanji x black reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #black reader #opla x reader #op x you #one piece

[suashii]

— 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓁𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓇 ౨ৎ

boothill x f!reader. 2.3k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ a lil bit of flirty teasing ﾉ pet names ( darlin' ) ﾉ interactions with kids ﾉ reader is navigating Big and Confusing feelings :3

a continuation of this farmhand!boothill fic! this might become a miniseries so if u're interested, do let me know!

“one more stop and we should be good to go,” boothill informs you, closing the door behind him after joining you in the front of the truck. his presence makes the vehicle feel twice as hot and you find yourself scooting closer to the window to widen the gap between the two of you. the task proves to be a bit difficult in the two-seat cab.

maybe you can chalk it up to the fact that you’ve gotten used to the convenience of grocery delivery services, but you’re really starting to feel like boothill is going out of his way to make this the longest, most convoluted shopping trip simply because you’re here with him. if you knew you’d be spending such a large chunk of your day with the farmhand, you wouldn’t have so easily agreed to accompany him on the errands.

it was another request, or suggestion, rather, from your grandpa. you’ve been cooped up in the house since you arrived for your getaway and the man thought it might be a good idea for you to go into town, reacquaint yourself with the locals. you couldn’t argue—your trip is currently indefinite and you’re sure you’ll end up driving yourself crazy if you refuse to go out and are only left with the company of boothill.

he may still be in your presence now, but having others around to buffer your interactions has made all the difference. the farmhand is a lot more tolerable when it’s not just the two of you—less teasing, easier to talk to. you’d even go as far as calling him… charming. though, you’ll take that with you to the grave.

and, being trapped in a car with him is a different story. you silently hope that your next destination is in the same direction as home because you aren’t sure how much longer you can take being confined in such a cramped space with him. other than his unrelenting pestering, you’re angry at yourself for stealing glances at him—the way he steers with one hand and lets the other hang out the window and how the toothpick he’s chewing looks all too natural between his lips.

you focus your eyes ahead, scolding yourself for so shamelessly enjoying the sight of him. you should be glad he doesn’t catch you looking; you’d never hear the end of it. without turning to face him, you ask, “what’s the last stop?”

“produce stand,” he speaks around the wooden stick in his mouth, slowing to a stop at the red.

you frown, confused. “we were just at the market, why didn’t we just pick some up there?”

“and betray miss alma?” the name rings a bell, you recognize it from when you would spend summers with your grandpa. he must still do business with her if boothill is familiar, and loyal, at that. “absolutely not. better quality here, anyway.”

you don’t argue because you have a feeling that he’s right. and you wouldn’t mind catching up with alma. she was always so nice when you were a kid, excitedly asking you about your time here and offering you free carrots to feed the horses back home. you’re surprised to hear she’s still running the stall after all these years.

it only takes a few more minutes to make it to the roadside stand. there are a couple of cars already parked when boothill pulls off and you can see the owners of them picking out their desired fruits and vegetables. you don’t waste any time getting out of the truck when boothill turns it off, the gravel of the makeshift parking lot crunching beneath your boots as you make your way over to the little table that houses the register.

alma is seated behind it, head lifting up from the book in her hand at the sound of car doors closing. she readies to greet another customer but her eyes light up in pleasant delight when they land on you. “look who it is!”

her voice, though slightly changed by age, is familiar and brings an immediate smile to your face. you all but run to meet her at the table she comes to stand behind. the woman holds her arms out for a hug and you reach over the table to wrap your arms around her. it’s comforting in the same way hugging your grandpa is, like nothing can go wrong while you’re safe in their hold.

“your grandpa told me you were in town,” she tells you, pulling away and slowly taking a seat in her chair. “i was wondering if you’d stop by.”

you don’t want to tell her that you’re mostly here because of boothill. “how have you been, miss alma?”

“good, good.” she beams and gestures toward the multiple cartons and crates of colorful produce. “we’re still going strong.”

you smile at that. you don’t find many places like this in the city and the small businesses that you do come upon back home don’t foster this type of community. it’s nice to see that her livelihood is still thriving. alma gazes at her work proudly before her eyes zone in on something—or someone—else. “you here with boothill?”

“oh, yeah. he works at the farm,” you tell her, though, you’re sure she already knew as much. she’s seen much more of him in the past few years than she has of you. not that you didn’t believe him, but he really is a regular.

“nice young man, isn’t he?” alma asks, looking back at you. you’re not sure if you’d go that far but you nod in agreement regardless. he’s likely the perfect gentleman to the older ladies within town. she continues, “hardworking and handsome, too.”

“yeah,” you mindlessly admit. the hardworking part is undeniable, you’ve seen that much yourself. he’s always up on time and takes his responsibilities seriously, never half-asses his tasks and is consistently willing to take on more work if it’s necessary. you only concede on the handsome bit because boothill isn’t around to hear you say so. you hope alma isn’t a gossip.

“are you seeing him, dear?” she inquires.

“seeing him? like dating?” you ask for clarification. alma only raises her eyebrows. she does mean it like that. the question makes the tips of your ears grow hot, makes your heart feel like it’s beating against your ribcage infinitely faster. you quickly wave your hands in dismissal, smiling nervously at the woman’s assumption. “oh, no. no, no.”

alma laughs at your denial but something hidden in the sound makes it seem as though she can see right through you. she doesn’t push the matter and while you’re grateful to leave the discussion at that, you can’t help but wonder what gave her that impression, if it’s simply an old lady’s wishful thinking or if you aren’t as good at suppressing those confusing feelings as you thought you were.

“boothill!” the call of his name gives you a start. you almost think alma is calling him over but when you reassess the voice—how little and high-pitched it is—you calm down. your eyes search the small crowd for the man and you find him quickly, though he isn’t alone. there’s a little girl at his feet, one who’s hugging his legs tightly and looking up at him with stars in her eyes. 

you don’t have time to wonder about who she is before alma explains. “that’s my granddaughter. sweet little thing. you should go meet her, she’ll love you.”

“sure.” you offer the woman a short wave before making your way over to boothill and the girl. you can pick up on tidbits of their conversation as you approach—boothill asking how much she’s missed him and the girl telling him “this much!” while opening her arms as wide as she can. he laughs and takes the opportunity to bend down and pick her up, situating her on his hip. he even takes the hat off his head to place it on hers. it’s big on her, covers her eyes and requires her to push it back so she can see.

the whole exchange is cute, not something you’d expect from boothill. there’s a lot that you don’t know about him, you think as you watch.

the girl must feel you looking because her head turns in your direction which causes boothill’s to follow. you smile at her and wave and when you’re finally close enough, you greet her. “hi there.”

“hello.” she isn’t as excited as she was when she realized boothill was here but she’s still kind, returning your wave with one of her own. your conversation ends before it truly begins as she turns back to boothill. there’s curiosity swimming in her eyes and she doesn’t attempt to lower her voice when she asks him, “is she your girlfriend?”

your mouth falls open in surprise at the girl’s bold question. boothill laughs heartily, whether at your reaction or the question itself, you’re not sure. you don’t know if you trust him enough to answer honestly but before you can tell her no, the man is already speaking. “nah.”

relief washes over you, but it’s short-lived. he meets your eye with his next words. “she’s real pretty though, ain’t she?”

he’s doing it again, putting you in a tough spot, one that urges you to run away rather than face the situation head-on. but this time, he knows that you know running away here would only cause a scene. you aren’t jumping at the chance to embarrass yourself in public so, even though you’re tempted to put as much space between you and boothill as possible, you plant your feet to the ground and stay put.

the girl in his arms looks at you again before eagerly nodding. “very pretty!”

“thank you, sweetheart,” you tell her with a soft smile. you try to keep it in place when you turn to address boothill. “are we ready to go?”

“almost,” he answers, crouching down to return the girl to the ground. the girl doesn’t look thrilled at their time being cut short but boothill, still at her level, playfully pinches her nose in hopes of cheering her up. “look, i gotta finish shopping but we can talk some more another day. maybe ask your mom if you can come ride the horses soon.”

“okay!” she places the hat back on his head, gives him a goodbye hug, and waves once more at you before skipping over to her grandma—presumably to share her enthusiasm at the prospect of visiting the farm.

she reminds you of yourself around that age.

“so,” boothill starts, rising to his full height with a half-full wicker basket in hand, “you only capable of accepting compliments when they’re not from me?”

there’s a grin stretched across his lips like he’s waiting for a thank you of his own. perhaps it’s a little rude, a bit pretentious even, but you can’t find it in you to utter the two simple words. maybe it’s strange and maybe it only makes sense to you, but not acknowledging the words is almost as if they never traveled through the air in the first place. pretending like the words don’t exist is easier on you—your turbulent mind and your unsteady heart.

you change the subject. “what else do we need?”

“you are ice cold, darlin’.” despite the statement, boothill doesn’t seem to be bothered by your indifference. he wouldn’t take it to heart if you were truly uninterested but the man is more perceptive than you give him credit for. he doesn’t miss how you can never seem to meet his eye following his heartfelt words, how you chew on your lip while you formulate an unrelated reply, and he certainly hasn’t forgotten about that stunt you pulled in the barn.

there’s something going on in that pretty head of yours and he’s determined to find out just what it is.

you pick out a few peaches and plums for yourself and a bunch of carrots for the horses while boothill grabs the rest of the household necessities. the basket is full by the time the two of you are finished. you plan on paying for your share but boothill insists that you wait in the truck, so, after bidding goodbye to alma and her granddaughter, you make the short walk back to the car. 

a couple of minutes pass before you hear the man putting the produce away with the rest of the items in the bed of the truck. a second later his door opens and he joins you, though, he isn’t empty-handed. there’s a bouquet of flowers in his hand that he holds out to you. “for you.”

you eye them cautiously, not daring to reach out and accept them.

“don’t worry, they’re from miss alma,” he tells you, lightly shaking the colored cosmos in front of you in a gesture for you to take them. “put ‘em in your room or something, they’ll look nice.”

with his urging, you take the bouquet. pinks and purples with pops of white make up the arrangement and, much to your chagrin, boothill is right—you can think of the perfect spot in your window for the blossoms.

as he starts the car and begins to back out into the road, boothill steals a quick look at you. there’s a smile pulling at your lips, soft and natural. it’s a rare sight, but one he could get used to.

he supposes that if he wants to see it for a while longer, he shouldn’t tell you that they aren’t actually from miss alma, rather, a mere suggestion from the nice lady to get him in your good graces.

thanks for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: honkai star rail #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill drabble #hsr drabbles #boothill fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Fourteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, gun play, GEN. SMUT [all possible tags, not necessarily all apply]

Info: Ghost is whiny, He’s feeling petty, he told you so!![diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. Stalker!Anakin Character art (as Ghost) MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: September 2nd

I lied. I said I wasn’t mad at you, but I am.

It’s not like I tell you no to anything, so why wouldn’t you just ask me first? Are you just desperate for a moment away from me and too nice to tell me that? Running from your problems won’t help especially when your problem is me.

I did what I should’ve done a long time ago. A new software has been installed on your phone, very similar to the screen cloning software linked to my laptop. Only this one is active all the time, a constant feed of live audio that I’ve taken the liberty of flagging a few words within the code.

Anakin, hate, love, Ghost, annoying, angry… so on and so forth.

The software flagged several sections of audio within the timeframe of your drive to the cabin. I must say, I’m surprised about the things the two of you talk about, I’m never going to be able to look Han in the eye ever again.

I also lied to you about something else. I don’t work tonight, or tomorrow. I switched up my schedule with April for you, cause I have a little something planned for you. A little thing I’ve had tucked away, actually never intended on getting it out and doing anything with it really. It was a gift from Cliegg after there was a murder on the college campus last year.

Don’t worry, it wasn’t me that time.

Anyway, I think it might be fun. For me at least.

“Okay but I don’t get it.” Luke said, propping up his feet on the dash while you drove.

“What about it don’t you get?” You snorted, slowing to a stop at a traffic light. “I think it’s pretty self explanatory Luke.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t come equipped with a cooter and I’ve never, nor wanted, the opportunity to see one.” He crossed his arms and tilted his head back and rolled his shoulders. “I just don’t see the benefit.”

“First of all, it’s pretty.” Holding a finger up and adding a second, “second, it feels heavenly.”

“I am a gay man.” Luke scoffed, “Dicks aren’t very pretty. A little jewelry can’t fix that.”

“How does it even work? Does he have to take it out to piss? That’s inconvenient.”

“No!” You laughed, covering your mouth as you turned the dial to quiet the radio. “No, he doesn’t have to take it out. To answer your other question, it’s the metal balls on either end of the jewelry. That’s the point of the piercing you know? It rubs up-“

“Okay that’s enough, thoughts have been thunk.” He covered his ears and did a dramatic shiver of disgust.

“You asked!”

“I didn’t know you’d be so descriptive!”

“You described in great detail all about the massive ingrown hair on-“

“Oh my god! I told you never to mention that again!” Luke reached across the console and whacked you up the back of the head.

“I’m driving!” You squealed, your hand shooting out to the side and shoving his shoulder. “No, don’t you dare touch that radio! For fucks sake if that’s-“

“It’s ABBA.”

“Go to hell.”

————————————————————————

After two hours you reached the small lakeside cabin that was to be your home for the weekend. A cute little place with a loft and two small bedrooms. The kitchen was… lackluster; a fridge and a stove with a whopping number of three cabinets. The living room however did have a pool table, which in Luke’s eyes made up for the fact that your sister beat him to claiming the loft room, because she’d driven separately and arrived before you.

You chose the room to the left of the living room and Luke chose the one on the right. The view from your window was beautiful deep forest green, leaves and moss and huge tree trunks. While Luke’s was the deep blueish green lake water, the occasional white wake following a boat zipping past.

After tossing your bag onto the floor in the general direction of the nightstand you jumped onto the squishy and super cheap springy mattress on the tacky ‘rustic’ log bed. Pulling up Anakin’s contact you tapped the call button and listen to it ring on speakerphone.

“Hey pretty baby.” Anakin’s rich timbre flooded the line.

“Hi Ani.” You smiled despite him not being able to see you. “Just got into the cabin and picked my room.”

“Oh you got to pick?” He said curiously, “you got the loft didn’t you?” You could hear his grin.

“No, my sister did.” You scoffed, “I thought Luke would have a cow over it but he decided the pool table here would offset his disappointment.”

“Pool table hmm?” Anakin tsk’d.

“Hot tub too.” You grinned.

“A fuckin’-“ he groaned and let out a loud huff, “a hot tub?”

“Yes sir.”

“Hmph.” He snorted, “someone finally taught you some manners huh?”

“W-what?” You asked nervously, bringing the phone closer to you and hopping off the bed to shut the door. “Manners?”

“You just called me Sir didn’t you?” He laughed. “Been taking some etiquette classes?”

“Oh shut up.” You breathed out a sigh, a breath you’d almost choked on. Your guilty conscience was really beginning to steam roll your daily life, even on your mini-vacay you can’t escape your wrongdoings. Ghost was still haunting you all the way out here.

“Just teasing doll.” He snickered, “Anyway, what’s on your agenda?”

“Nothing for tonight, probably gonna sit on the dock and have some drinks, do a little bonfire, hot tub maybe.” You told him, beginning to relax again.

“Drinks? Be careful baby. It’s not exactly safe to drink and get into a hot tub.” He chided, “I’m serious.”

“I know.” You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Good girl.” He said, pleased enough with your response. “So what room did you say?”

“Oh! I didn’t actually oops. I got the one looking out into the woods, it’s real pretty, I’ll send you a picture after we hang up.” You said, shifting your weight to sit more comfortably.

“Aw thanks babydoll.” You could hear his little smile through his words. “Well, I should probably let you get back to it huh?” He sighed.

“If you wanna talk more-“

“I always wanna talk more but I don’t want to keep you from your fun.” He said a bit quieter. “Uh, just don’t forget to call and leave me a message before bed okay baby? I’d love to hear your pretty voice when I get off work tonight.”

“Okay Ani,” nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I’ll talk to you soon then… I miss you.”

“I love you too.” He made a kissy noise and hung up quickly, leaving you with a frustrated, pinched brow that you reached up to sooth with the heel of your palm.

After snapping a quick picture of your view through the bedroom window, you rejoined your trio in the living room where Luke was teaching your sister to play pool. You stood and watched for a moment, seeing them bicker like they were just reminded you of how much you loved summer trips with them.

Growing up with a sister close in age to you was fun, except for when it wasn’t. She went to school before you did, made friends before you did. Of course you were only two grades behind, but there is a big difference between kindergarten and 2nd grade. She had always been happy to play with you until then.

So when she was meant to be paying attention to you, or at least making sure you were alive, while you were both outside… she was busy on the swing set in your backyard. Which is how you found yourself with scraped knees and (surely, most definitely) a broken ankle from your scooter.

A new family had moved in across the street from you not too long before the summer started, you hadn’t met them, didn’t even know they had kids, until you were being pecked on the shoulder by another child’s finger. After that, Luke was found wherever you were; glued at the hip was an understatement, your families were convinced you were soulmates, that you’d grow up to be married.

Jokes on them.

His sister Leia was outgoing and confident in ways that Luke lacked, so during that first summer she gravitated toward your sister. The twins became a binder, something that held the four of you together. Bridging the gap perfectly between kindergarten and 2nd grade as 1st graders.

It stayed that way, for the rest of your school years and after.

Your parents got along swimmingly, the four of you floated between the two houses. Nights often ending up with a pair of kids asleep in the floor, where one of those children did not belong. A quick phone call to the house across the street to make sure your sibling was there, then all was well and your parents would scoop Luke and you up and tuck you in.

You were seven the first summer your parents had the grand idea to spend a week on the lake. It was a tearful goodbye, kids who spent every possible waking moment with each other are not easily pried apart.

Your parents drove the full two hours to a cute lake house they’d found online and within the first 30 minutes of being there your father had enough of the sniffles and whines. By dinner time Luke, Leia and their parents were sitting around fire pit with you.

Thus your annual tradition was born and kept even after the horrid aftermath of Luke’s unexpected outing. Sans parents of course. Your father supported your mother even if his views didn’t fully align with hers. He was a ‘be gay, just don’t be gay in front of me’ type of person, while your mother was more of the ‘send him to conversion camp, he’s tainting my children’ type of gal.

That didn’t really jive with the whole ‘love and positivity’ approach that the twins parents had about the situation. Which leaves you where you are now, reminiscing on those happy childhood memories before everything got complicated, before you discovered the world outside of your safety net, before the consistent visits from your uninvited house guest.

A loud clap broke you out of the fog and suddenly you were hyper aware of your sister’s nose right in front of your face.

“Lauren!” You gasped, your eyes wide before softening into a grin.

“You’ve been staring into oblivion for a solid minute,” she giggled, “I thought about sticking my finger in your mouth but I was afraid you’d bite it off.”

“My mouth?” You asked confusedly.

“Yeah you’ve been catching flies, looking like a mouth breather.”

“Eew! Don’t call me that!” You scoffed, standing up and following her over to the pool table to discuss your evening plans.

——————————————————————————

Anakin watched your little blue dot travel back and forth from the cabin to the dock, he listened the chatter between the three of you as he drove the two hours out to the pine forest your weekend getaway was taking place. The mile long gravel driveway was perfect to stash his car off to the side of, no one would be coming in or out of the drive all weekend.

He walked through the woods, backpack slung over his shoulder, his hood up and mask on. It was 9:57 and the three of you were still on the dock. He could hear you talking about getting into the hot tub through the Bluetooth earbud he had in, that new software was really paying off.

He hadn’t planned to do this next bit, but he couldn’t help himself. He purposefully got his left shoe dirty, twisting his foot side to side in order even dirt for a proper footprint. Then he left his mark on the first step up to the front porch.

*ping*

‘Having fun?’

You laughed, picking up your phone and leaning back in your chair as you crossed one leg over the other and switched the sound off. You’d only had it on for when Anakin texted, and now he was. Or you thought he was until you realized the text came from your own number.

‘No. Don’t engage. He’s not going to know where you are, how could he possibly know?’ You thought to yourself. ‘I planned this in person, I told Anakin at his place not mine. All Ghost knows is that you’ve left for the weekend.’

You swiped the message away and let out a huff, deciding to take the opportunity to walk back up to the house and call your boyfriend.

“Guys I’m going up to the cabin, gonna call Ani.” You said, standing up and taking your hard lemonade with you. “Need anything?”

“Nope, we’re about ready to head back anyway.” Lauren answered, waving you off. “We’ll be up soon.”

With that you walked away, taking the worn dirt path back up to the house and dialed Anakin’s number, waiting for the voicemail to pick up your call.

‘Hey Ani.’ You smiled, crossing one arm across your chest to rest your other elbow on while you talked. ‘I’m probably not going to bed just yet, but I am going back up to the house. I just wanted to fill you in a little bit I guess.’

Once your shoes hit the gravel you absentmindedly kicked a larger rock off to the side, swinging out your leg and shifting your position to walk backwards, looking down at your sister and Luke on the dock.

‘We’ve been just hanging out all evening, made some sandwiches and had drinks by the water.’ You pivoted again as you neared the porch and looked down to ensure your footing before taking the first step up. ‘We’re going hiking tomorrow morn-‘

You scrunched up your face and took another look before backing away from the steps completely, your eyes scanned the porch and saw the cabin door was still shut.

‘Sorry, thought I saw something…’ you muttered into the phone, spinning slowly in a full circle to take a better look at the tree line. ‘I- okay, anyway. Going hiking tomorrow… probably swim too. There’s a canoe moored down there so maybe we’ll try that out.’

Off to the left of you behind your sisters car you swore you heard gravel crunching underfoot, but when you looked toward the dock, Luke and Lauren where still sitting there. You marched over to the opposite side and saw nothing, going so far as to look under her car and yours.

‘Okay well…’ You were certain now that someone was outside and you were not alone, your phone buzzed against you ear and you pulled it away to swipe away the message, not even registering the sender before holding your phone back up to your ear.

‘Uh alright well I’ll talk to you in the morning,’ you quickly walked back over to the porch steps and side eyed the footprint as if you’d expected it to disappear by now. ‘Goodni-‘

A strange feeling passed over you, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and a chill ran down your spine like a drip of cold water. You were almost afraid to turn around.

‘I gotta go, Miss you bunches… goodnight.’ In your panicked state you didn’t have the same thought process you normally would, you’d simply ended the call and whipped your head around, expecting to find someone, something, that might’ve caused that hair-raising fear. There was nothing.

Breathing a sigh of relief you laughed at yourself. It had probably just been a rabbit, maybe you’d startled it and it kicked up some gravel. The footprint… it could have been there when you arrived, it could’ve been made by one of your group, including you.

You checked the message you’d swiped away and your blood ran colder than ice. Your rational explanations were bulldozed in seconds.

A picture of you, standing in the drive way, taken from behind your sisters car.

The breath was stolen from your lungs. Your sight was locked into tunnel vision, all you could see was the front door as you ran to it and pushed it open. Colliding with something solid and warm as you stepped inside.

Something living and breathing that gripped your hair and cradled you to its chest, something that kicked the front door shut and pressed a cold, blunt object to the temple of your head.

Something that made you want to scream.

Diary Entry: September 2nd continued

I have time to kill and nothing to do while I wait for you. So I figured I’d write alittle bit.

I’m currently sitting under a tree, watching you and your cute little ponytail swishing around while you giggle. You’re so beautiful. Everything you do is beautiful. I’ve never seen something as exquisite as you.

Maybe that’s part of the reason I want to ruin you so bad. Leading you, my innocent doe, down the path of corruption could quite possibly be my life’s work. How would you like that sweetheart?

You wanna be my magnum opus?

Though of course we do have the one small identity issue to take care of. I need to get my shit together and figure out what the fuck I’m going to do. It’s not like I can tippity tap it into Google: ‘how to tell my girlfriend I’ve been stalking her for almost a year’.

No thank you. I don’t trust WikiHow with the fate of my love life.

Let’s be for real. I don’t even trust myself with the fate of my love life because I’ve already managed to fuck shit up. I’m continuing to fuck shit up. What I’m about to do? It’ll fuck the fuck out of the shit.

What can I say other than love makes people do crazy things?

“Ghost.” Your voice was wobbly and unsure. “Is that a-“

“Gun? Absolutely.” He grunted, pressing the barrel into your skull.

“What are you doing? They’re gonna be back soon, you can’t be here!”

“I came to chat.” He said simply, leaning his head down to put the cheek of his mask against your warm skin. “I missed you.”

“Did you miss me? Is that why you left your boyfriend back home? Wanted to let me have you all to myself for a weekend?”

“No!” You snapped at him, twisting your head away from his.

“Heard you on the phone.” He cooed, “still can’t say the L word? Why’s that?”

“If Luke sees you… my sister- they’ll call the cops, you know that.” You pushed against his chest and felt it rumble with a low laugh beneath your palms.

“Stop deflecting, answer my question.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to talk about Anakin with you!” The whisper left your lips tainted in unease.

“I’m aware. That’s why we aren’t talking about it. You’re going to tell me.” He barked, holding you close to his chest and walking backwards toward your chosen bedroom.

“N-no, I won’t. That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair?” He scoffed. “I don’t care if you think it’s unfair.”

“How did you find me?!” You wriggled from his arms the moment he closed the bedroom door.

“I know everything about you baby.” His voice low and much too confident for you to believe anything otherwise. He looked relaxed in the way that he reached behind himself and locked the door, leaning back on it and crossing his arms, one long leather finger running parallel to the barrel of the pistol.

“I just wanted one weekend!” You shouted taking off your sneaker and throwing it at him, he gave you no reaction and it only pissed you off more. “Just one!”

“One weekend away from you! I know you can see everything on my phone, you see and hear everything I do, why do you think I wasn’t the one planning this trip? I didn’t want you showing up here!” Yelling at him in a way you never had before as you stalked toward him with your other shoe pointed at him. “I don’t want to talk about Anakin with you! I don’t want to tell you how I feel!”

“Do you want to know how I feel?” He asked calmly.

“I don’t give a shit!” You chucked the shoe at him and he batted it away easily.

“I think you do.” The gun raised up to his mask as if he were scratching his forehead with the barrel. “I think you care a lot and that’s why you won’t tell me.”

You didn’t answer, because he was right. You did care and you did care a lot. You’d been avoiding telling Anakin you loved him to spare Ghost the hurt of having to hear you say it to someone else.

“No.” You stuttered, hesitating and hating the taste of the word on your tongue.

“Don’t lie to me.” He barked, holding out the pistol and motioning for you to move. “Kneel. Now.”

“Gods, seriously? Put your arms down, you idiot.” He scoffed as he watched you lift your hands and put them behind your head like you were being arrested as you knelt down slowly.

“Well I’m sorry. I’ve never been held at gunpoint before.” You snapped, scowling up at him.

“I’m so lucky to have to honor of being your first then.” He grumbled, tucking it into the back of the waistband of his jeans while pulling the pink silk from his pocket and tossing it at you.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” His voice gruff as the toe of his shoe tapped your knee. “Put it on.”

Ghost shook his head, undoing his belt buckle, the tail end of the leather now forever imprinted with your teeth marks. You did as you were told and heard his pants unzip along with a soft grunt.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He asked, holding his flat palm out to the side to make sure you couldn’t see, rearing back to slap you.

“How should I kn-“ *smack* “ow?! What the fuck?”

“Just making sure.” He snickered, taking off his gloves and putting them in his hoodie pocket.

“Asshole.” You mumbled.

“What was that?” He asked with a playful tone. “You want me to fuck your asshole? Is that what you said?”

“Shut up. You know that’s not what I said.” You muttered, unable to keep your lip from curving upward just a fraction of a centimeter.

“Ah well, the offer still stands.” He chuckled, tapping the side of your jaw with the cold metal barrel of his pistol.

“You’re making me nervous waving it around like that.” You huffed, jerking away from it.

“Good.” He snorted, “open your mouth.”

You did exactly that, thinking you’d feel the warm weighty head of his cock hit the tip of your tongue. Hoping for a taste of the salty precum that wept from his cockhead. You weren’t expecting something small, cold, metallic and pellet shaped.

“Don’t swallow; this is the only time you’ll ever hear me say that so you better listen.” You could hear his smarmy grin. “Roll it around, you feel that?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, feeling the smooth metal and the grooves carved into it, opening your mouth again and he plucked it off the tip of your tongue.

“Your initials, or well… what your initials should be.” He mumbled the last bit.

You hear a series of mechanical and metallic noises, followed by the unmistakable sound of a firearm cocking back.

“You did not just-“

“I did.” He snickered, holding the gun sideways and pointing it directly in the center of your forehead. The blunt edge digging into your flesh and pressing down against your skull.

“Spread your fingers.”

“Why?” You asked as you splayed your hand.

“Do you have to question everything?” You felt thick metal circle your middle and ring finger, dropping to the base of each digit, barely making any contact with your skin on its descent. It really put in perspective just how much bigger than you he was.

Even more so when you felt his warm, calloused fingertips weave their way between yours and squeeze gently. The tender gesture did nothing to quench the fear sitting heavy on your chest. A loaded gun, a loaded and ready to fire gun was about an inch from your brain.

“C’mon, you don’t want to talk? Not even like this?” Condescension dripping from his lips. “Loaded gun to your head and you still won’t talk about your feelings.” He tsk’d.

“It’s not your business.”

“See that’s where you’re wrong. We’ve already had this discussion haven’t we?” He crouched down in front of you, air rushing past from the quick motion. “It is my business. You were mine first.”

The curved edge of the barrel traveled down your forehead, across your cheek and rested heavily on your bottom lip.

“Give it a kiss for good luck little doe.” Ghost spoke low and steady, almost monotone. Considering your situation you did as you were told once again.

“Good girl.” He stood back up and pushed the waistband of his boxers down by hooking his thumb beneath the elastic. “Now get to work, bitch.”

His tone had changed again, now a sharp and hard edge that smacked you like a cold wind. Emotional whiplash was to be expected in every encounter you had with Ghost, but none so far was as bruising as this.

He’d never brought a gun to a knife fight before.

You hesitated for a moment longer than he was willing to wait, so he dropped your hand, the small bit of comfort he’d allowed you to have. Grabbing the back of your head and forcing his swollen cockhead past your lips, cool metal returning to the center of your forehead.

You gagged and spluttered around his length, the hot and leaky cockhead bruising the back of your throat. Ghost seemed to love the sound, loved feeling you cough and try to gasp for air, his hand tightened in your hair as he let out a loud and gravely moan.

“You suck cock so much better with your life on the line.” He laughed, pulling you away from him and releasing your hair. He watched you cough and wipe drool off your chin and neck with the back of your hand.

“Ready to talk?” He asked, his breathing heavy and uneven.

“Fuck you.” Spitting the words out with venom.

“Sorry sweetheart that’s not on the agenda tonight.” You felt the rush of air before his palm made contact with your cheek, your hand immediately lifting to cradle it and feel the heat radiating from the irritated flesh.

“C’mon doe, I don’t have to be mean about this.” He barked, “Just use your big girl words.”

“L-Luke’s gonna be back up here any minute.” You stuttered, lifting your head in the general vicinity of where his would be.

“You realize you’re only making this more difficult for yourself right?” He asked, not giving you the opportunity to answer when he fisted your hair and forced your lips to meet the tip of the barrel of his pistol.

*shk* *click* **click** nothing.

Before you had time to process the fact that he had just pulled the trigger of a loaded gun in your mouth, you were being choked and not given any hope for breathing. His forefinger and thumb tightly clamped over your nose and his cock lodged in your throat as he fucked your face. Instinctively you tried to draw in a breath, accidentally breathing in saliva, making you cough so hard that Ghost had no choice but to back off.

“Ghost...” You dry heaved on your hands and knees. “I’m n-not gonna tell you.”

“What’s it gonna take huh?” He asked angrily, you could hear the sound of clothes rustling just before he lifted you up and shoved you over toward the bed. “What’s it gonna take for you to admit that you love me?”

“I don’t!” You yelled, taking off the blindfold and tossing it aside.

“I didn’t say you could take that off.” He snapped at you while pulling his gloves on, snatching the ring off your middle finger and shoving it down in his pocket. He whipped his head around toward the door suddenly.

“Shit.” He shoved the gun in the back of his waist band and grabbed his bag without explanation.

“What?” You asked sitting up on the bed.

“Gotta go.” He grumbled.

He grabbed the blindfold and slipped it back over your head, grabbing your jaw and tilting your head back, his lips met yours in a soft embrace. His tongue piercing gliding across the slit between your lips before pushing past them slowly, the taste of cigarettes and gum flooded your senses. He hadn’t tasted like this last time he kissed you.

He took one of your wrists in a gentle grip and brought it to his cheek. Ghost kept a loose grip on your wrist but he allowed you to feel the smooth skin beneath his eyes, your fingertips collecting the smallest amount of moisture in the outer corner of his eye.

He was crying.

He broke the kiss, your lips begging to stay connected to his. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself that kiss felt like home. The fact that he was shedding tears was unsettling, the car crash that was this relationship had officially gone beyond whiplash and into ‘trapped inside, in need of the jaws of life’ territory.

He took the same hand and pressed it to the center of his chest and left it there to put both his gloved hands on either side of your face, pressing his lips to your forehead. Their warmth left your skin and you immediately wanted it back.

He took the blindfold back off and smoothed out your hair quickly, putting the silk in his pocket and putting up his hood. The mask back where it belonged, those black pits where his eyes should be held an emotion that was pouring from every inch of his being. You felt like he was staring through you and straight into your soul. He stood beside the window with his bag slung over his shoulder. Who knew such strong emotion could be felt… seen, without ever laying eyes on the person emitting those feelings.

“Lock your window back.” He nodded toward you and promptly climbed out just as you heard the front door opening, he was gone before you even had a chance to get a second look as he ran off.

You did as he asked and locked the window before checking your appearance in the mirror, a mess was reflected back at you. You looked as if you’d been lost at sea. Tangled hair and ashen skin covered in streaked makeup. The churning in your stomach only rocked the proverbial boat more.

After a deep breath you brushed your hair and pulled the makeup wipes from your bag to clean up with.

“Hey!” You heard a sharp knock on the bedroom door and answered it while still wiping away at your face.

“What’s up?” You asked your sister as she pushed past you.

“Just checking on you before I went to bed, Lukey and I were out there for longer than we meant to be.” She shrugged on her way to jump on the bed, “Ow! Fuck.” She winced and picked up her bare foot, rubbing the sole with her thumb as she picked up the offending item.

“Who’s ring?” She asked, holding it up for you to see.

“Oh it’s just Anakin’s!” You lied, laughing anxiously and plucked it from her fingers, encasing it in your own hand. “Probably just fell out of my bag.”

“He has such a weird taste in jewelry. What even is that?” She pointed to your closed fist, and watched as you peeled back your fingers and exposed your palm.

It wasn’t a lie, it was Anakin’s.

“A centipede.” You swallowed, staring at the hunk of metal. “It- he always wears this one. I don’t… I’m not sure how it ended up in my bag.”

Your throat felt dry, your palms started to sweat. You felt like you might be sick. Why did he have Anakin’s ring? He hardly ever takes it off.

Diary Entry: September 3rd

I should have never taken those fucking rings off. I had to lie to you. It’s stupid I know but lying about something little like that is almost worse than the big secret you know? Cause I don’t want you to think I’m untrustworthy, I am. I’m very trustworthy.

You just let me shoot what you thought was a loaded gun in your mouth. I’d say that means you trust me quite a bit. Ghost, not me I mean. You trust Ghost with your life, but you can’t trust Anakin enough to tell him you love him?

Date

September 3rd (1:45 am)

Anakin jogged to the end of the driveway and hopped into the front seat of his car, taking off his mask and gloves. With the steering wheel in both hands he leaned forward to rest his forehead on the back of his hands. Keeping his grip at the top of the wheel with one hand he leaned back again, looking up at the roof of his car, his other hand going to pinch the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone started ringing, he quieted himself and quickly strategized a set of half truths and full lies that he might need to use before answering the phone.

“Hey princess.” He sounded cheery as he picked up the phone, “lucky you, I was just going out to smoke.”

“Oh?” You asked, feeling relieved to hear that he sounded fine. Maybe ghost didn’t chop off his finger after all. “Sorry, I- I have a weird question.”

“I love weird questions.” He snorted, you could hear him flip open his zippo lighter and snap it shut after a long inhale.

“Are you missing any rings?” You asked, hoping he said no and that this was just a very odd coincidence.

You heard rustling on the other end of the line while Anakin frantically searched his pockets, coming up one ring short.

“Yeah I am actually, why?” He answered clearing his throat nervously.

“Which one?”

“My many legged lad.” He answered, instinctively flicking his cigarette ash with anxiety, the miniature embers floating down to his jeans. He quickly swiped them away and tried to remain focused. “I took it off to shower at your place last night.”

“I figured the cat knocked it off the sink or something.” He shrugged to himself, hoping it was enough of a lie to convince you that maybe Ghost snatched it off the sink.

“S-somehow it ended up in um, my bag I guess.” You said, turning the jewelry over in your palm, placing it on the nightstand beside the bed.

“Huh, well that’s fucking weird.” He chuckled, “I don’t know, babe. Just keep it safe for me til you get back I guess sweetheart.”

“I will, I’ve got it on the nightstand right now.” You answered, licking your bottom lip.

“Thanks babydoll, listen, I gotta go back inside.” He grumbled, sucking air through his teeth the way he always did on his last drag of his cigarette. “I love you doll. Sleep good.”

“Night Ani, text me when you’re home.”

“You got it baby." Anakin answered, his voice low and smooth.

A perfectly normal conversation. A perfectly normal explanation on his part. A completely plausible assumption that Ghost simply took it from Anakin. Though you’d never known him to be brazen enough to come around with Anakin there and awake.

A perfectly dreadful whisper floated in one ear and out the other.

—————-

Date

September 3rd (2:27 am)

Anakin walked circles around his car, desperate to find an escape, an excuse, an explanation. Something, anything to help him backtrack. He couldn’t go back to your cabin tonight. He’d made you lock the windows and he knew Luke would quadruple check that the front door was locked. He didn’t know your sister or Luke’s sleep habits so he didn’t feel comfortable picking the lock.

He would have to tough it out until tomorrow night.

You were very much in the same boat as him. Waiting anxiously to see if he would come back, to see what would happen.

You wanted to call Anakin again, just to hear his voice, to listen to the calming comfort of it. To affirm that all was well, he was safe and fine. That was the only reason. You just wanted to make sure he was safe. Anakin was perfectly capable of handling himself, but to your knowledge he didn’t own any weapons that he could defend himself with. As far as you knew, Anakin Skywalker was sweet and kind and soft. He was loving and gentle. He was the perfect man, the most wonderful thing to walk into your life.

Anakin loves you and you love him. You love him so much, so much that it hurts. You love him so much that you’ve refused to say it. To protect him, to protect yourself, to protect Ghost from the hurt of it.

That’s just it though, there is Ghost. He’s there at every corner, he’s the creak in the floor boards at night, he’s the figure you see in the corner of your eye, he’s the creepy feeling of being watched, the voice you swear you hear saying your name.

He cares for you, and he cares deeply. You know without having to hear it from him that he believes you’ve hung the sun and the moon, he knows all the stars in the galaxy twinkle just for you and he believes you should be treated as such.

For all his wrong doings he’s done something right, not the helpful little things nor the occasional softness he’s begun to show.

No it’s something else.

It’s a feeling so oddly tangible that you can feel it in your throat each time you swallow. There isn’t a name for it, no term that you’ve ever heard could properly define it. You know that much to be true.

It’s a pull, a strong and undeniable tether. Like a child and their security blanket. Visible or not, where there is one there is always the other.

You’d miss him if he were gone, much like you’d miss the comfort of a fresh from the dryer blanket. The fuzzy warmth that wraps you up so tightly, the feeling of being tucked away from the world in safety.

That heat fades quickly, just like he does. He’s present one moment and the next he’s left you alone and you have to start the cycle all over again. You stare at your reflection and watch the world tumble around you and he watches you from behind the glass until he’s ready to come out again.

You want to fold him up and lay him across the end of your bed. Within reach at all times, you don’t want the dryer door between you anymore. You don’t want the few moments of heat from the fabric.

You want consistency.

Anakin can give you consistency in a way that no one else ever has. You never have to worry about him leaving or being disloyal, you never have to voice your feelings or opinions if you don’t want to because he just knows. You never have to worry about anything. Except for Ghost.

With Ghost you know that you are without a doubt the safest person alive. You don’t have to think, you can just be and know he is there to do anything and everything for you. You never have to worry about anything. Except for Anakin.

————-

Date

September 3rd

Hiking had never been your favorite summertime activity, but you’d come to realize it wasn’t because of all the walking or the bugs, it wasn’t even because of the horrid, atrocious memory of the time you’d walked through poison ivy.

You didn’t like it because it gave you too much time to think. That was exactly the opposite of what you needed right now. Right now you needed nothing, you needed the cold emptiness that comes along with burying yourself in something that took up all your brain power until there was none left to dwell on your troubles.

By the time you’d reached your destination you were drenched with sweat in the most uncomfortable way imaginable. Your shirt stuck to you, the cups of your bra were damp and itchy, your shorts had ridden up and you weren’t entirely sure that you were wearing shoes instead of walking barefoot in a bog.

“Luke.” You grumbled, taking a long drink from your water bottle. “How long have we been out here?”

“About two hours.” He replied casually, not nearly as winded as you and your sister. “Let’s eat and we’ll head back.”

“Are we lucky enough to be on one of those trails that the start is long but the loop around is short?” Your sister asked, wiping her forehead with the inside of the collar of her shirt.

“You’re both wimps,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes, passing out sandwiches and chips. “No, the way back is the way we came.”

“You’re joking.” You complained with a scrunched up expression.

“No ma’am.” Luke responded and thumbed over his shoulder at the overlook you’d made the journey to see. Yes it was beautiful, but worth the blister forming on the back of your ankle? Definitely not.

“Unless you’d like to take a dip off the cliff edge.” He snickered, knowing damn well that you’d rather gnaw off your fingers than jump from this height. “It’d be a couple minutes swim to shore and you’d be at the cabin.”

“No way really?” You said, standing up and biting into your sandwich as you walked cautiously closer to the edge. Gazing down you saw the dock, your eyes traveling up the tiny- hardly visible- dirt path until you reached the cabin.

He was right, you tracked your hiking trail up the curve of the incline you’d suffered through, it was a massive arc. Leaving you staring at the comfort of the cabin, so close but impossibly far away. You looked for a moment more, the lake sparkling like glitter in the bright sunshine. A few boats disrupting the water as they sped past, far off the shore.

You snapped a few pictures and scrolled through them, nearly choking on your food as you spotted something you’d missed with your naked eye. Only seeing it now that you were scrutinizing the photos quality to decide which one you’d keep.

“Jesus, you alright?” Lauren asked, watching you thump the side of your fist against your chest. Breathing heavily through your nose while chewing the food to swallow it and chase it down with a gulp of water.

“M’fine.” You coughed, looking back down at your phone and then to the landscape below to see if he was still there.

You should’ve expected to find him, expected the way he made himself at home on the porch, rocking in a rocking chair. The scene was still jarring, even more so when you realized he wasn’t wearing his hoodie.

His bare arms on display, his chest and abdomen covering by a loose black tank top. You frantically tried to zoom in with your camera. But of course all you could see was a fuzzy blur of inked skin.

What luck.

He was there, in broad daylight without a staple piece of his ensemble, one he didn’t remove in front of you. Now you understood why he told you he’d be recognizable if you were to see his skin. He was covered in tattoos.

And it’s your unfortunate luck that despite being so close to him, it’d take an hour to get there. Your great luck that he’d left himself vulnerable to your gaze at a distance that would prove impossible to decipher his identity. He was doing this purposely, there was no doubt about it. Why else would he do something so risky?

Ghost was baiting you.

Like the stupid little fish you were, you nibbled on the hook until he was able to reel you in.

‘I see you’ You texted him,

‘Creep.’ He texted back, standing up from his rocking chair and walking to the front porch steps. He waved dramatically, the sun shining down on him and catching on the white plastic of his mask, making him plainly visible. You watched through the zoomed in and grainy image of your phone as he moved, hoping maybe it would clear up and you could see something identifying.

Suddenly you were reminded of something you’d learned in school, a book you’d read… maybe Nancy Drew? Signaling using a mirror or something reflective to catch a person’s attention, sometimes used as a means of communication in Morse code. Though this wasn’t nearly as sophisticated.

He had pulled out both his knives and flipped them, the sunlight refracting off the shiny silver blades erratically until it became one concentrated beam as he crossed the sharp edges over each other. Forming an X to direct to light straight at your face, promptly blinding you.

“Fuck.” You winced, stumbling backwards and causing your sister to gasp.

“Christ, what the hell are you doing?” She asked worriedly, standing up and walking toward you but not daring to move as close to the cliffs edge as you were.

“A- a bug or something.” You lied, rubbing your eyes to clear up the imprinted flash of light you saw each time you let your eyelids fall shut.

*ping*

‘See me now?’

‘Asshole.’ You mumbled under breath, looking back over the cliffs edge to see that he’d managed to get out of sight in the time it took for you to recover.

“Alright, let’s go back. I’m hot and sweaty.” Luke said, standing up and stretching. He packed away our trash and then shoved Lauren forward when she complained.

“I’ll push you off the edge if you don’t shut up and leave me be.” He snorted, dodging her water bottle that she swung by the handle at him.

“C’mon let’s go before you kill each other.” You said with a laugh, feeling better now that Ghost was -probably- gone for now.

After another hour of hiking back down the steep incline you’d just traveled up, you were grateful to collapse on the cold wood floor of the living room and bask in the cool air supplied by the window unit nearby.

——————————————————————————

Diary Entry: September 3rd

I’m so jittery waiting around for you guys to get the hell out of that stupid cabin. I have shit to do and you’re gumming up the works. I need to get your bathing suits, I scouted out around the lake last night when I couldn’t sleep. Not in my Ghost mask, I used a bandana. I think it’d be real unfortunate to get the cops called because Ghostface is roaming the pine woods.

Anyway, your bathing suits. I’m taking the ones I disapprove of. Did you know there’s a cabin full of jockey college boys right across the lake from you? You better not have planned that. They have a perfect view of the dock you’ll be swimming off of. Which means they were probably watching you last night when you were having your drinks.

I’m the only one who can watch you like that. Especially when you’re gonna be prancing around with that fucking ass of yours on display. ‘Ani, I’m just gonna wear it to tan in!’ Yeah alright. That’s the only reason doll? That’s the reason you brought a thong bikini to the lake? With a cabin full of testosterone waiting to catch a whiff of you from across the way?

I can’t believe you’re so stupid sometimes. I love you but damn do you have no self awareness? I’d let you wear it when I’m around. But I’m not. Not the way I want to be at least. I want to be there fucking you with my eyes and smacking your cute ass every chance I get. If I’m not standing there watching over you then those idiots might get the idea you’re wearing that shit for them and not me.

They don’t know you’re tanning, making that bangin’ fucking body sun kissed for my viewing pleasure when you return. They just see ass and tits and drool. I might drool yeah… but it’s only for you. I love you. I have eyes only for you and I always will.

Those dick-wads don’t know you or care about you. They lust over every bitch they see. You don’t want to make it easier for them do you? No? That’s what I thought. I know you didn’t do it purposely little doe. You can’t help it. You’re used to me being by your side and keeping you safe, used to wearing whatever you want when I’m around because you know I’ll fuck shit up if someone looks at you wrong. You’ve gotten used to it and didn’t use your little girl brain to make adjustments for the fact that Anakin wouldn’t be there for you.

Just another reason you should’ve brought me along.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Oh my fucking god it’s so fucking hot outside. What the hell is wrong with Luke? Making you walk up that MOUNTAIN. I totally would’ve followed but I’m actually busy trying not to fucking drown in my own sweat. There’s a bunch of reasons Ghost is mostly nocturnal. This is one of them.

I was being baked alive.

Anywho, I showered and now I smell like you, so I’m gonna wander about, have a wee little snack. By the way, I’m really sad you forgot the mustard.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Baby, don’t be mad I didn’t mean to almost make you trip. I just thought it would be a little funny. I was right. But I’m still kind of sorry.

I wish I could’ve seen your face.

‘Oh my god! His shoulders are out!’ Scandalous.

Risky? Yes. Worth it. Yes, can’t wait to hear you whine about it when I fuck you again.

——————-

Date

September 3rd

“Okay, let’s get ready for the lake.” Luke stood up and clapped his hands together once, a loud *pop* resounding through the living room.

“Already on it.” You huffed, throwing yourself forward into a sitting position and hopping to your feet.

You entered your room and noticed two things immediately: 1) the ring is gone 2) your red one piece swimsuit is on the bed. Upon further investigation you discovered a note laying on top of it.

Written in quick scratch was a short note from Ghost.

‘Doe,

I’ve taken the liberty of making adjustments to your wardrobe.‘

‘Adjustments?’ You thought, grabbing your bag and dumping it out on the bed.

The only things missing were your other bathing suits and your shower stuff, quickly grabbing the red suit you rushed to the bathroom and locked yourself in to change. Pushing back the shower curtain you saw your body wash and shampoo, the walls still wet from his shower. You couldn’t help but let out an annoyed huff.

Your phone vibrated on the side of the small bathroom sink, sliding across the porcelain and falling into the sink basin. You quickly fixed the straps of your bathing suit and retrieved your phone before the leaky tap could wet the screen.

A video message awaited you from ghost, the image from the thumbnail made you laugh in a choked kind of surprise. He was outside giving you a leather thumbs up, your hot pink string bikini on overtop of his black hoodie. As you pressed play the video was mostly silent other than the nature noises of the background until he flipped the camera around and zoomed in.

A low modified whistle left his lips as his camera focused on the bathroom window, your bare back in the frame for a moment before he shifted the camera slightly to get the mirror in front of you, showcasing your breasts as you changed into your swimsuit.

You swiftly spun around going to the window to scan the area, he couldn’t have possibly gotten too far away. Throwing open the window you stuck your head out and looked to the left and then to the right where Ghost had suddenly appeared, inches from your face.

“Ow! Fuck, agh-“ You yelped, whacking your head on the window pane while he laughed at your expense.

“Hey! You okay?” Luke banged yelled from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Y-yeah!” You shouted back, turning to look inside the bathroom again before turning back around to see Ghost had crouched down, out of view if you were to open the bathroom door.

“What are you doing? You’re takin’ ages.”

“Uh- sorry. Wardrobe difficulties.” You squeaked out, glancing back at ghost who was still wearing your hot bikini bikini top, sans bottoms… which was honestly a bit disappointing. You heard Luke walk off, yelling to your sister that you were probably ‘on the throne’.

“Who is he? The Queen?” Ghost’s mechanical voice came from beneath the mask.

“Close enough.” You shrugged your shoulders and watched as he stood up to his full height, his knees cracking upon the ascent.

“Why did you take my shit Ghost? I wanted to wear that!” Whisper shouting at him while you hung the upper half of your body out the window.

“That’s why I took it.” He said plainly. “I don’t want you looking like a fucking slut out there without me around to keep other eyes off you.”

“Who the hell is gonna see me out here!? You shouldn’t have even seen me out here!” You pointed angrily.

“Shut up, I know you’re happy I’m here.” He snarled, getting right in your face, reaching up to grab your chin. “I heard you last night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You scoffed as if you hadn’t done exactly what he was insinuating.

“I don’t want the girl who moans for me to be ogled at by some fucking frat guys.” He barked, shaking your chin and digging in his leather fingers.

You turned bright pink. You couldn’t argue with his statement. You did moan for him. Under him, over him, even without him.

“What frat guys?” You stuttered, avoiding acknowledgement to the first half of his sentence.

“Across the lake.” He pointed, flicking out his knife to gesture in their direction. “Big group of ‘em. Paid them a visit last night just to check things out, you know I worry about you.” He said in a quieter tone, bringing the blade of his knife to your bottom lip and tapping it with the flat side.

“I would’ve never known they were there if you hadn’t told me.” You narrowed your eyes, speaking carefully as the knife rested against your lip.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Or maybe not.”

“What’s that supposed- shit, why?” You flinched and brought your hand to your mouth touching the nick he’d left when he quickly jerked the knife away.

“So you’ll think of me when you’re yapping to some no-count bitch boy from across the way.” He snapped back. His leathered thumb came up to spread the blood across your bottom lip and past it onto your tongue.

“It’s just a bonus that you bleed so fucking pretty.” He pushed your tongue down with his thumb, rubbing the crimson liquid into the squishy muscle, then curling the same thumb behind your bottom row of teeth and shifting his cock in his jeans with his free hand.

“Clean it for me baby?” His modified voice lower than usual.

“No, use your mouth doe.” He chuckled when you reached out to grab the knife from him to rinse in the sink.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows but opened your mouth anyway. He placed the blade on your tongue and nodded at you.

“Now suck it.” He grumbled, affectionately patting your cheek twice before using two fingers to push up your chin and close your mouth around the cool steel.

————————————————————————

“What happened?” You sister asked, touching the scabbed line that traveled up your ass cheek and disappeared beneath your swimsuit.

“Well, I just fell.” You muttered, pulling the hem line to cover more of it. “Don’t really know what cut me but it happened a little bit ago.”

“You need to be more careful.” She shook her head, finishing up her job of rubbing in your sun tan lotion. “I swear you’re worse than my toddler.”

“Oh shut up, I am not.” You scoffed, “there’s a difference between something you don’t have any control over and choosing to shove a pebble up your nose.”

“I- that was only one time! When will you let that go?” She asked grumpily. “What am I supposed to do, carry around a fucking periscope so I can see behind me?”

“I’m not- I was kidding.” You sighed, shoving her out in front of you, making her stumble.

You clicked the lotion shut and shook it up, slamming it down on the heel of your hand before putting a generous amount in your palm. You slapped it onto her back and rubbed it in, ignoring the hissing sound she made when the wet glob of sunscreen in your palm smacked her flesh and splattered messily across her skin.

“Caleb is just… an explorer.” Lauren said, trying to make it sound better than it was.

“I never shoved anything up my nose.” Luke chimed in from behind his sunglasses, sitting up against one of the dock posts. “Lauren, you know I was an ‘explorer’.”

“No. You were a bug boy.” You snorted, looking over at him with a little smirk.

“So what? I liked… like bugs. They’re cool okay?” He grumbled waving them off.

“Remember when you had Ants on a Log with actual ants?” You giggled, Lauren crouching down as she let out a guffaw.

“I was seven!” He said defensively, crossing his arms.

“Caleb is two. He can shove a pebble up his nose and it can be excused.” Lauren snorted, catching her breath. “You were seven, you knew better. You have no room to talk.”

“Okay mom,” Luke huffed, you knew without a doubt that he was rolling his eyes behind those glasses. “At least I don’t still pick my nose.”

“Hey! Sometimes you just gotta get up in there.” Lauren pointed at him, a scowl on her face. “Don’t lie, you pick your nose. Everybody does!”

“Uh… I mean I technically pick my nose. Just with a tissue.” You said, supporting your sister in your useless argument.

“So you’re both gross then.” Luke gagged and grabbed his stomach dramatically.

“If I’m gross, so are you.” You said, getting settled on your towel. “Lauren’s right. Everyone picks their nose.”

“You’re both horrible.” He grumbled, shaking his head before standing up and lowering himself into an inner-tube so that he could float on the water.

You all had a peaceful first half of your day, it was refreshing after the hike to relax in the sunshine, letting the heat lull you into a state of calm and the opportunity to think of nothing save for the concentration of singling out different nature noises just because you could. Cicadas, the occasional grunt of a bullfrog, Whippoorwills calling out to each other in the trees, the gentling lapping of the lake against the dock.

None of the city sounds that clouded your head and made it feel cluttered.

It was cleansing, a nice reset for your mental state. Exactly what you needed, exactly what you were so happy to be here for. Now if only you could get some clarity on the difficulty you’d return to after your weekend of being at ease.

Even in peace times nothing is perfect.

The gentleness of the world you’d drifted into was being infiltrated. The distant sounds of a boat zipping through the water at much higher speed that it should’ve, especially with the water skier attached to the towline. What could make it worse? Two jet skis flanked the boat at a good distance away, though it was clear they were all in one group. Shouting and laughing like drunken fools, which you were sure they were considering the way they were behaving.

You licked your bottom lip, reminded of the small nick Ghost had left you with. These must be the ‘no-count bitch boys’ he was referring to earlier. You had to admit, he was definitely right about that. Wrong about your willingness to speak with them though.

You huffed and stood up, deciding now would be a good time to take a refreshing break in the water. The liquid enveloped your skin, the heat of the sun having beat down on you had your flesh soaking up the warmth so much that the water felt cold. In involuntary shiver tickled your spine as you swam over to Luke where he’d floated a way from the dock.

Slowly but surely the boat along with its entourage weaved its way across the water to your side of the lake, you pushed Luke’s inner-tube back toward the dock to give -them- yourself some space.

“Thanks babe.” Luke said, dipping his hand into the water and flicking it at your face.

“Hey! I was trying to be nice!” You scowled, reflexively sliding your hands beneath the tube to dump Luke out of it.

“I could’ve drowned!” He gasped as he resurfaced, taking off his sunglasses so he could wipe the water from his face and shake out his hair.

“Oh whatever, don’t be whiny.” You grinned.

“Me? You’re telling me not to whine?” Luke tossed his glasses up onto the dock and made his way toward you quickly. “All I did was flick you with water and you tried to drown me!”

“I did not!” Squealing as he lifted you up and tossed you farther into the water. How such a scrawny little guy could do such a thing was beyond you, but you had no time to contemplate.

You only had time for revenge. Squinting beneath the murky waters you made your way to Luke, hearing him call out your name in garbled syllables.

Ever since you’d known Luke, he’s had an irrational fear of the tiny possibility that there may be an alligator in any body of water. Didn’t matter how far from the wetlands of the states you were. There was always a slim chance, to him at least.

Holiday Inn pool? ‘But it’s outside, it could’ve crawled in! Will you just check it?’

Tiny dollar-store-bought blow up pool in your backyard? ‘But the creek! The creek’s back there… I’m not going in till you do.’

It got to the point that it was so severe his dad had to come up with a ‘gator gauge’ which was really just a hand-held tennis ball launcher he’d spray painted green and put a ‘gator free’ sticker on the back of so he could prove it was safe. Top-notch, high security, military grade ‘gator gauge’ that doubled as the lazy way to play fetch with their dog.

It was mean. Maybe a bit cruel… but he deserved it. So you swam behind him and put the heels of your palms together, spreading your fingers and creating jaws. You’d disappear from sight for long enough that a hypothetical alligator could’ve dragged you off and you heard Luke call out for you again.

Your lungs started to burn and you knew it was time to enact your plan. Luke stood on his tiptoes in the water, the perfect opportunity to press your fingers and nails into the muscle of his flexed calf. He screamed and thrashed about, you let him go and backed up so you could resurface. You popped up and sucked in a deep breath that turned into a choked laughing fit.

“You little bitch!” He yelled, splashing as he swam at you, pushing you under the water by your shoulders. He quickly pulled you back up and shoved your shoulder. A pink tint to his cheeks from embarrassment, he huffed and splashed a wave of water at you.

“I could’ve drowned!” You mocked him, pretending to cough.

In your short time of distraction the boat and its occupants had cut the engine and let the momentum carry them closer. The jet skis now tethered to the back, the ladder down in the water. Despite the safer option a group of five guys jumped over the side and made themselves at home in your space.

“Hey! How are you ladies?” One of them asked, completely ignoring that Luke was right there with you.

“No soliciting, thanks.” Your sister popped her head up and shook her left hand to show off her wedding ring.

“Whoa, didn’t mean anything like that!” He laughed and his friends agreed. “Just wanted to say hello, see if you guys were up for a drink.”

“I think we’re just fine.” Luke spoke up from behind you.

“I wasn’t asking you.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Sighing you turned around and swam until you were able to touch the lake bottom, walking the rest of the way to the shore.

“Hope you’re going to get some mixers.” A different guy shouted.

“Going to get a restraining order if you don’t leave.” You shot back over your shoulder, earning a round of laughs from them, the opposite of what you’d hoped for.

“C’mon. Don’t be like that! Just give us a chance. We’re good people.”

“Good at ruining my day.” Luke mumbled, following behind me and scooping up his stuff and getting ready to leave.

“You’re going? Serious?” One of them laughed.

“You came over here uninvited, you’re not entitled to our company.” You said, turning around and walking toward the house.

“That may be true but you’ve certainly made up for it by jiggling that ass.” His friends snickered and one smacked his arm.

You reminded yourself that you were here to have fun. Not to argue with a man who has half the brain capacity of a drunk squirrel.

Deciding you couldn’t let them win, you figured you’d beat them in your own way. You continued on without another word, pretending you hadn’t heard them, instead pulling out your phone and sending a simple text message.

‘You were right.’

The answer was an immediate: ‘I know.’

Diary entry: September 3rd

I hate to say I told you so. But I will.

I. Told. You. So.

I was having a great time watching you, it was reminiscent of how I used to watch you have dinner and I’d eat with you. You’re so cute and playful… I love you so much. I know that Luke is super gay, that’s not why I’m jealous. I’m not worried about that. I’m not stupid and I’m not paranoid, I know better. I’m jealous because it should’ve been me that you were playing around with.

I’m jealous cause you didn’t invite me. I’m jealous that you got to swim and I’m sitting in a tree, soaking my shirt with sweat. I’m jealous that Luke had a beer. I’m jealous that your sister took a nap. I’m jealous that those shit-for-brains tried to talk to you. (I love your sisters fucking comeback though.)

I’m jealous that they got a better look at your sweet little ass than I did too.

I’m pleased that you were so off-put by their behavior that you texted me little doe. What a very good girl you can be, but, oh so good at being bad too. You’re just like me. Maybe I’m making it worse, maybe better. I don’t know, I don’t really care either.

I’m just excited.

My little doe is feeding that flame of deviancy hanging out deep within your stomach. I knew you had it in there somewhere, gods you’re just so fucking perfect. I’ve never felt more lucky. ‘Ghost, I’ve got one more day here. What if they come back?’

What if indeed.

Men can be unpredictable. A woman is safer in a pit of snakes that being alone with a man she doesn’t know. Which is why I try so desperately to protect you especially in situations like this. That delivery guy? He seemed harmless. But I dug a bit deeper and well, he wasn’t so harmless after all.

Now, these boys might be disgusting pigs who prefer to wallow in the squalor and bask in the glory of their custom made beer can wall. They don’t deserve anything too harsh. Also; Wow. It’s amazing how they’ve managed to drink that much and none of them have been hospitalized for alcohol poisoning. But back to business, I personally don’t feel like killing anyone. I know for a fact you don’t. I also know that even if I did feel like it, I couldn’t because you’d definitely know it was me. Then what the hell would I do?

You had no good ideas. Which is not your fault, you just can’t think about these things on your own. You need guidance and that’s what I’m here for. So, I settled on something you’ve never done, I haven’t done in a long time, and it’s not technically illegal here… just heavily frowned upon. I hate their shit attitudes, they’re gross and they’ve disrespected you and that’s unacceptable. So a nice little bit of property ‘destruction’ is in order. Middle school memories, how sweet.

TP the cabin? Absolutely. Destroy their beer can wall? Definitely. Silly string their vehicles? Duh.

Fuck you before and after? Yes. Always.

Part Fifteen

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwars @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero r @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco @demieyesore @hemmoxloser

Thanks to @rottencandyblood and all their love❤️

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[mandarinmoons]

Thanks for the idea @spencestiel-michelle x

An uncomfortable silence filled the air as you continued to stack your items into moving boxes. You didn’t think this day would come and you were hoping that it wouldn’t lead to this, but one thing leads to another and here you were, packing your belongings to move to a new unit.

Ever since joining The FBI you wanted to work in organized crime, unfortunately you didn’t get a spot in the area you wanted to work in but were offered a position in The BAU. Hesitantly you accepted it, not the place you wanted to be in, but alas it was something. What you didn’t expect was to meet someone like him though.

On your first day at the bureau you walked out of Hotch’s office with a stack of files in your hands, trying to walk back to your desk without tumbling down on the floor in the process. Nearly halfway there you heard someone run up to you and take half of the files into their hands. As your line of sight became clear your eyes met with the person who came to help you and you felt your breath get caught in your throat.

The warmest set of brown eyes met yours, his lips turned up in a smile and you felt yourself copying him.

“Let me help you.”

You nodded and walked to your desk with the stranger tagging along, you were cursing yourself in your head for not being able to get one word out.

As the days passed and you finally mustered up the courage to speak to the helpful, and quite gorgeous man, you properly introduced yourself to him and you felt your stomach swarm with butterflies as he smiled your way and introduced himself as Spencer.

Years pass and the two of you are thick as thieves, having coffee together during breaks and the fact that your desks are right next to each other doesn’t help. Spencer was known to be a bit of a chatterbox and you were never one to shut him down whenever he had an urge to talk about something. It always ended up getting cut short by Hotch and you were a bit sad when it happened, even if you didn’t always understand what Spencer was talking about you still liked to listen to him.

And now here you were, memories of the past years replaying in your head as you and Spencer packed away your belongings. You two had never been this quiet before, it still felt unreal and Spencer was hoping that you’d tell him that this was all a cruel joke any second now, but it wasn’t. You finally got your spot in organized crime and you were leaving The BAU.

You kept sneaking glances at him every now and then, trying your best to remember all the details of the face that you loved so much because you didn’t know when the next time would come that you’d be able to see him.

He had worn his glasses for the past few days and in your head you wondered if he was wearing them as a way to trick you into staying because you had told him you loved it when he wore them, but unbenounced to you Spencer had been crying ever since he found out about your transfer and wasn’t able to wear his contacts because of that.

With everything neatly packed, you and Spencer looked at each other for a moment, waiting for the other to say something. The words you wanted to say were gnawing at you, but you weren’t able to say them.

What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he truly only sees you as a friend and you’d end up making the departure even more difficult?

You were brought out of your thoughts by the sound of Spencer clearing his throat and you shook your head to clear your thoughts.

“So this is the last of it.”

“Do you want me to help you take it to your car?”

“Oh no thanks, I’ll manage.”

“At least let me help you take it to the elevator.”

You nodded and your fingers brushed as you took a hold of the same box, you pulled your hands back so as to not cause any further electricity flow through you. Whenever yours and Spencer’s hands brushed together it always felt comforting, but now it just made you want to cry as it was a sensation you no longer had the privilege of feeling.

The walk to the elevator felt like an eternity. You kept your eyes away from Spencer because you knew you would break if you saw his gaze. You wanted to stay, or rather you wanted him to stay as a regular part of your life, but life is unfair at times and choices have to be made. It was selfish of you to think that he would come and tag along with you in another division and you knew he would laugh in your face if you were to ask him to, but a small part of you was hoping for it to happen.

The elevator doors opened and you looked back at Spencer one last time, one more glance at those eyes you loved so much, making sure you’d be able to see them every time you closed yours.

“Goodbye Spencer.”

You walked in the elevator, taking in Spencer’s body language. He seemed tense, his jaw tense and his hands stuffed deep within his pockets, he was hurting as much as you were, if not more.

“Goodbye Y/N.”

The doors shut and Spencer felt the tears pool in his eyes, why had he not said the words he was thinking of? Because he feared the same things as you, what if he ruined the departure and things would be awkward between you two. Now you both would never know how things could be.

What were those words you both thought about? I love you.

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[brainrot-of-a-thot]

don’t touch me, I’m angry.

or, what they do when they’re really mad at you, featuring: jo togame, hajime umemiya, sakura haruka, hiragi toma

c/w: I guess this could be considered angsty so angst (okay actually came out quite a bit more angsty than I intended), warning: toxic behavior, headcanon blurbs, language, fem!reader

a/n: this could also be alternately titled how they act after a fight, but that doesn’t feel like it encompasses the vibe to me so tbh I’m having way too much fun creating these headcanon things, and I want more to create, so if you have a suggestion please please please send it my way!

no one can give a chillier cold shoulder than jo togame. it only happens when he’s extremely angry over something, so it is rare; but it’s unforgettable when he does it.

because togame’s cold shoulders aren’t like most; they’re felt on a physical and emotional level. he’s not just brushing off your physical existence — it feels almost as if he’s severed your emotional connection to him as well. it can be quite painful and exhausting, even overwhelming, when it happens.

if you’re in the same vicinity as him, your entire existence is ignored. if you try to talk to him, he will ignore you — even if you start yelling or crying. if you’re standing in front of him, he will train his eyes on you, but his stare will give you the impression that he’s merely looking through you, as if you’re made of glass.

it leaves you feeling like some sort of black hole, clawing desperately for anything to fill your bottomless pit — and that anything you’re searching for happens to be togame’s attention and affection.

and the worst part of it is, the cold shoulder treatment doesn’t ease up until togame decides he’s ready for it to — even if it means ignoring you for weeks at a time.

when hajime umemiya is infuriated, he becomes the king of passive-aggressive pettiness.

he will act as if everything is normal; in fact, you won’t even know he’s angry about something until he’s ready for you to know. he keeps it tucked away, unforgiven and unforgotten, until he feels the perfect time has arrived to throw it into your face — in a way that is completely passive-aggressive, but still holds a heavy impact.

when he’s angry, his biggest goal is to drill as much guilt and blame into you as he can — even if only a small amount of it actually belongs to you; but he doesn’t want this to blatantly obvious. he will poke and prod at you with sugary jabs until you’ve had enough of his bush-beating and you explode with impatience — and then he will make you feel guilty for that, too.

in short, umemiya is actually quite toxic when he’s angry; and due to his subtlety with it, you never know for sure how long it actually lasts — it could be days or weeks.

let it be said that it’s exceptionally rare for umemiya to enter this state, and he only does so when he’s pushed past a certain brink — and it takes even more for him to enter this state because of you.

sakura haruka has no filter when he’s enraged.

in the moment that he’s pushed to that point, you cease to be his closest companion — in fact, you cease to be anything other than a source of anger for him.

he will scream, yell, punch things and throw things. his displays of anger are always loud and physical, and the aftermath of them are absolute carnage. his words can cut sharper than any blade, articulated with the aim to devastate you, even in a state of such blind fury.

even the tears streaming down your cheeks aren’t enough to pull him out of it — and when he’s finally physically spent all of his angry energy, he storms away from you, disappearing from your grid entirely for days at a time, depending on how angry he is.

it’ll leave you feeling hollow and alone, with no semblance of closure on the horizon. all you can do is wait, and hope it doesn’t take him long to return to you.

hiragi toma becomes irrationally vulgar when he’s angry; but on top of his vulgarity, he closes himself off.

you’re unable to reach him in an emotional sense; and when he does talk to you, his sentences are cold and clipped and littered with curses. he tends to also become more reckless, choosing to vent his anger out on common miscreants and wanna-be thugs with far more force than what’s necessary.

many times, you’ll see him with split and bruised knuckles, but when you attempt to care for them, he pushes you away. he doesn’t exactly ignore your existence, per se, but he certainly won’t be as warm towards you, and for a while, he will really only spend time with you when a crowd is involved — simply so he can have others to speak to when he becomes angry all over again.

you’ll most certainly feel outcasted, maybe even unloved to a degree, but rest assured, hiragi loves you with everything he has — that’s why he’s so angry in the first place.

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker #windbreaker x reader #hajime umemiya x reader #haruka sakura x reader #jo togame x reader #hiragi toma x reader

[unbreakabledawn]

The good part about being injured was the popsicle.

The bad part was literally everything else. Dick's chest hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before, worse than any bruise or scrape or bump from the numerous falls he'd gone through at Haly's, during practice for a show, or playing outside, climbing trees and vaulting across playgrounds. Never bad enough to need to go to a hospital, just band-aids and warm wash cloths and ice packs.

We should tattoo a band-aid on you, it would save us time and money, his dad would say every time Dick scraped his knee, which was every other week. And his mom would brush the hair back from his forehead, kiss his cheek with a warm hum, and sneak him a popsicle even though it was Wednesday and he wasn't allowed sweets on weekdays.

Another pang of pain flared in Dick's chest, and it wasn't his ribs this time.

And Bruce freaking poking right where the pain was at its worst did not help at all.

"Ow," Dick yelped, scowling at Bruce.

"I'm sorry. I need to examine you." Bruce continued pressing gentle fingers to Dick's side, moving along the bones and the edges of the blooming bruise. "Is it hard to breathe?"

"No," Dick said, lips wrapped around his strawberry popsicle. "Just hurts a little. If I breathe deep."

"Where does it hurt the most? Here, or here?"

Dick used his free hand to trace the throbbing center of pain. Bruce nodded and reached for his hand, slipping a small plastic clip with a tiny screen onto his finger. "Um, what's that?" Dick asked, watching numbers appear on the screen of the clip.

"Pulse oximeter. It measures the oxygen saturation in your blood." Bruce was now pulling a stethoscope out of a set of drawers. He'd shown Dick how to use one a few weeks ago, slipped the ear pieces into Dick's ears and placed the little disc on his chest so Dick could hear the slow, steady drum of his heart. Bruce was leaning forward to place it on Dick's chest now.

"Can you at least wait until I've finished my popsicle?" Dick said, sullen, trying not to squirm as the cold metal slid across his chest while Bruce told him when to breathe.

"You can multitask. It's a useful skill to have. Lean forward," Bruce instructed, and repeated the procedure on Dick’s back.

"I'm okay," Dick said, because Bruce was the one acting like he'd crashed straight into a concrete ledge instead of Dick. He'd been practicing hand flips in the garden, and he'd stumbled on a cracked tile and fallen and hit the side of his chest on a stone flower bed. Ugh, how embarassing. His first injury after he moved in with Bruce, and it wasn't even as Robin! And still, Bruce had whisked him down to the Batcave's medbay, promising him a popsicle in exchange for being allowed to check him out.

"Yes. I just want to make sure," Bruce said, worried frown still firmly in place. He was scrawling notes on a chart, because he was a freak like that and needed to document the fact that Dick was clumsy enough to get himself injured playing in the garden.

Dick sighed and licked off the last bit of the popsicle, and the juice that had dripped onto his fingers.

The sound of something large being wheeled closer made Dick freeze. He looked up towards Bruce, who was bringing some sort of machine to the gurney Dick was laying down on.

"What are you doing?" Dick asked, alarm bells ringing in his head over the whirring and humming of the strange machine.

"This is a portable x-ray device," Bruce explained while he manipulated the machine into position. "I need to take an x-ray of your chest."

X-ray? That’s what they used for broken bones, wasn’t it? Crap, did that mean he broke his ribs?

“But I’m fine,” Dick said, trying and failing not to let his panic bleed into his voice. “I don’t need it.”

Bruce paused, hands on the handles of the machine’s head pointing it towards Dick’s chest. He peered down at Dick. “It’s just an x-ray. It’ll take me two minutes.”

“You don’t need to,” Dick said, accidentally raising his voice. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Dick,” Bruce said gently. He hesitantly put a hand on Dick’s reached forward to brush the hair off Dick’s forehead. “It won’t hurt, you won’t feel a thing. It’s like a big camera that lets us look inside your chest.”

Dick stared up at what must be the lens of the camera. He bit his lip. It didn’t look like it would hurt. “How does it work?”

“This”—he touched the head of the machine—“sends out x-ray beams. They go through your body and this plate catches them, creating an image.” He held up a wide, black plate. “So I need to place this under your chest.”

“What are x-ray beams?”

“We can do a radiation physics lesson tomorrow, if you like. For now I need you to lean forward for me.”

He did, and let Bruce place the cold, hard plate behind his back. It wasn’t comfortable, but Bruce had said two minutes. He could handle two minutes.

Bruce put on some sort of black apron, and attached a broad collar around his neck. “Lead protection,” he explained to Dick, and then he was standing back and held up a remote that looked like the trigger to a bomb. “Ready?”

He nodded.

“Breathe in.” A buzz and a louder whirr. “And we’re done.”

Dick opened his eyes. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Oh. That wasn’t so bad,” he admitted, leaning forward again so Bruce could remove the plate and put away the equipment. "So,” Dick said once Bruce returned to his bedside. “Are my ribs broken?"

"I don't know. Probably not." Bruce was writing something down in the chart, but the line between his eyebrows was the familiar I'm-Concentrating frown instead of a Oh-My-God-You're-Hurt frown, so Dick felt more annoyed than upset for the moment.

"What?! What do you mean you don't know? What was the freaking point then?"

"I needed to check your lungs. Rib fractures can be hard to see or even undetectable on chest x-rays."

"Oh. So my lungs are okay, then?"

"As far as I can tell. I'm no radiologist."

Dick rolled his eyes. Good thing Bruce wasn't a doctor, because his bedside manners sucked. "Hmph. Well, you owe me another popsicle. Since I let you do an x-ray on me."

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, and Dick just barely caught the quirk of his mouth before he smoothed out his expression again. "You drive a hard bargain, chum. Strawberry or pear?"

"Strawberry. Duh."

-

a/n: this is 50% due to @froizetta asking me about rib fractures for her fic, and 50% due to a patient i had last week: a young girl around dick's age who started sobbing as soon as i called her name for her exam, and who continued loudly sobbing throughout the two minutes it took to take a single x-ray of her hand. she was terrified, hospitals and medical tools and big machines can be scary to little kids! i work with a large variety of patient groups and kids are definitely the ones i struggle the most with, so this writing exercise also has professional merit (<- me making excuses for self-indulgent fic)

#the genius of posting this on tumblr is that i don't have to come up with a title #my fic #dawn post #robin #dick grayson #batman #bruce wayne #dc #dc comics #fan fic #fan fiction #ficlet #postfic

[waldau]

hii! I've noticed that you haven't written anything for minghao yet (according to your master list) so I wanted to request something cozy and homey with him. like maybe cooking together or waking up together or something along those lines.. :)

hello anon! i was feeling extra sappy with minghao and this also happens to be my first work for him. thank you so much for requesting it, i hope you see this!

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

muse — xu minghao | 1,382 words | fluff

minghao blinks his eyes open to the sound of silence. there’s not much he can hear right out, except for the distant sound of cars going past. he lazes around for a few more moments before giving in and checking the time on his phone.

it’s just shy of six in the morning. he needs to be up and at the studio by nine, but he doesn’t feel like moving just yet. he puts his phone away and turns around to you, to watch you sleep.

the first time he’d ever done it was unfortunately a time you weren’t actually asleep, and he’d ended up staring at you for ten minutes before you woke up and apologized to him, saying that you couldn’t pretend to stay asleep without wanting to burst into laughter.

he still remembers how embarrassed he’d been by that, and how you made it up to him with kisses and multiples reassurances that it had been okay, that he could do it again, that it wasn’t a problem at all, you’d just been caught off-guard the very first time.

the thing is — minghao adores you. he’s in awe of you. to him, no one else on this planet even compares to how exquisite you are. he loves how like-minded the two of you are, how affectionate you’re with him, and how much you support him without even saying any words. of course, he loves going out on dates with you, seeing new places with you, seeing you match the outfits he wears, but this might just be his favourite sight in the world.

this being seeing you asleep on your side, facing him, a hand tucked under your head and the other holding his own. as an artist, he’s used to noticing the finer details about everything he sees, so when it comes to you, he could lose himself for hours noticing every single thing about you that makes him love you more.

minghao gently untangles his hand from your grasp, drawing his own blanket over you properly so that you don’t feel cold. he immediately feels the cold winter air hit his bare arms, and he winces as he gets used to it. he’s going to need to workout before he leaves, because there’s no time for it in the evening. not if he wants to finish work fast enough to come back to have dinner with you.

his fingers itch for a brush. it’s been a while since he’s painted something. the last thing he’d put on his canvas had been a rendition of a sunset he’d been able to see with you a few weeks ago. it had been magical; the beautiful hues of orange and yellow blending with the shimmering brightness of the sea, contrasting the pale hue of the sky.

but nothing looked more beautiful than you sitting next to him, watching the sun rise and letting the water wash over your legs. he’d been tempted to paint you instead, right there, but you’d dragged him out on a monday morning for inspiration, despite the fact that both of you had work soon, and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

but he doesn’t really need inspiration. not when you’re his muse.

he runs his fingers across your face as gently as he can, glad that you’re still asleep. you’ve been having trouble sleeping recently, and he’s glad he’s part of why you’ve been sleeping better. he smiles when he notices two faint pillow creases stamped into your cheek, angry red lines that he hopes don’t hurt you at all. you somehow manage to look even more perfect with them.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at you before your eyes blink open slowly, and somehow his eyes are the first thing that yours find. he holds his breath, waiting for you to speak.

“hao?” you ask, voice croaky. “what time is it?”

minghao checks his phone again. “six thirty-seven. you still have twenty three more minutes to sleep, if you want.”

“mm,” you say, before you roll in closer and pull his arm to yourself. “wake me up at seven, then.” before he can say anything, you look up at him. “aren’t you supposed to leave early today?”

he nods. “do you want me to leave?”

you huff and tug at his arm to pull him closer to yourself, and he goes down willingly. “you know that’s not what i meant.”

“what did you mean, then?” he asks, pinching your nose softly.

you’re used to his teasing by now, so you just roll your eyes throw an arm around his waist. “did you sleep well, hao?”

“really well. you?”

“me too. but…how long were you staring at me this time?”

he feigns shock. “you could tell?”

“i can just…feel it, somehow,” you giggle. “won’t you tell me?”

“do you really want me to?”

“of course,” you say, eyes shining despite the layer of sleep clinging to them. minghao wishes he could spend more time with you like this. it’s almost like you’re forcing yourself to stay awake despite having some more time to sleep, just to talk to him. the thought warms his chest.

“maybe forty minutes? maybe more.”

there’s a grin on your face. “correct me if i’m wrong, but…i think you love me?”

he could just refute it, tease you a little, joke that you’re in too deep, but he can’t. there’s something about the early hours of the morning combined with the fact that he has the honour to wake up with you that makes his heart heavy. he’s lucky to even have this, especially with you.

“you’re right,” he says, voice rough, feeling his waterline sting suddenly. “i love you.”

the grin on your face disappears slowly. “hao? is everything okay?”

“of course it is, darling,” he says, bending down to kiss your forehead, brushing off some rogue strands of hair to kiss it properly, tucking it behind your ear so he can see your beautiful face better. “i love you. is that wrong?”

“no, silly,” you say, leaning up to cup his cheek in your palm. your hand is cold. maybe he should’ve warmed you up better. “you sound…sad. like there’s something eating at you.”

he closes his eyes and indulges himself in your touch, trying to work out his words, marvelling at how easily you can read him. “i…love you. you know that, right?”

“yeah. i love you, too. but…?”

“but,” he sighs, “i just…don’t have the right words to tell you how much i love you. i could say i love you a thousand times, but it wouldn’t be enough. i could kiss you a thousand times and it wouldn’t be enough. i could…i could ask you to marry me but nothing would be enough to tell you how thankful i am that you’re here with me. that you’re mine.”

silence, just the two of you in your bedroom, the sounds of life filtering in from outside the window.

your breath is shaky when you speak. “hao.” you drop your hand down to his arm. “i love you, too. you don’t…i don’t need any grand gestures from you. just…be with me. every single day. be mine forever. that’s it.”

“there’s nowhere else i want to be.”

“then that’s all i need.”

minghao presses a kiss to your head. he hopes it conveys everything he’s feeling right now. he’s about to say something more when your alarm goes off, and he really should get going if he doesn’t want to reach work late.

“see you in the evening?” you ask, hand catching his as he attempts to get to his feet. “maybe we can talk about…getting married? for real?”

minghao hasn’t even opened the curtains yet, and he feels like he’s standing in front of the sun again. he’s going to go to work, do well, come back home to you and hold you and hear about your day and eat with you. he’s going to surprise you with a painting of yourself, and he’s going to marry you. that’s the life he’s built for himself with you, and he loves it.

it’s all he needs to keep going, every single day.

“i can’t wait. i’ll be back before you know it, darling.”

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo

#idk i tried writing #xu minghao #xu minghao fluff #minghao fluff #minghao #fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #waldau writes #req

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

Shy?

Masterlist

Criminal Minds Masterlist Emily Prentiss Masterlist

Summary: Professor!Emily x fem!student reader, what happens when profesor prentiss and the reader finally give into their feelings?

Word count: 1.5k

TW: Making out, I think that’s it?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader

A/N: Should I make this a series? Idk it might be fun!

Studying behavioural profiling is, well, different. It’s like science, criminology and psychology and smooshed into one subject. But the best thing about it, you ask? The teacher. Emily Prentiss is the most divine woman to ever step foot on this earth and no one can tell me otherwise. The way she strides along the front of the lecture all, her raven hair that falls in front of her face when she bends down to click something on her laptop, her eyes that always seem to find mine in a room full of students, her veiny hands that brush over mine when giving back a test. Ugh god, I swear I’m falling in love with this woman. 

It’s 7:45 am on a Wednesday and I’m walking across campus so I can get to lesson a little early to touch up my notes from my other class with Agent Morgan and to go over my- okay I’m bullshtting I just want to see Emily. And to be honest, I think I’m one of her more favourite students so I think she doesn’t mind me being early. 

I push open the door to the lecture hall and start walking down the steps, laptop bag slung over my shoulder that contained notebooks, pens, pencils etc, all the essentials. In my hand I held a travel coffee mug with my favourite hot chocolate in it because I wasn’t too partial to coffee. As I reach the front row I notice that Professor Prentiss has been following me with her eyes and watching the sway of my hips as I walked in. ”Morning Professor.” I try to say as if her eyes all over me weren’t causing a blush to creep up my neck. I took a quick check behind me finding out I was the only one in the room. 

“Hi, y/n. How are you today?” She asked her eyes staring into mine, genuinely curious.

”Good thank you, tired but good, what about you?” I smile as she chuckles lightly at my comment.

“Just about the same as you darling.” She replies with a smirk on her face seeing my face instantly bloom with red at the pet name. I shuffle my bag slightly before she says “I was out on a case for the last two or so days and I, only just, made it back in time to teach you guys. Lucky me hey? The only reason I’m even slightly okay with having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn is because of students like you. You actually listen and care, god knows that kind of work ethic is rare these days.” Emily looks exhausted and about ready to jump into bed at any second but the words that she said seem to cloud my head so I don’t pay much attention to her disheveled state. 

Students like me? What does that even mean? Well, she explained what it meant but I still wasn’t convinced. Nonetheless I responded “Yeah, it really is. All the people in this class want to be profilers or something along the lines of such and yet none of them take their education seriously. I want to throw something at them every time they talk over you. I might actually do it one day, it's so annoying!” She smiles fondly at my words making a cage of butterflies escape into my stomach and I smile back. 

“Now, I can’t have you throwing things at people, can I now sweetheart? That’ll get you kicked off the course. And I don’t think you want that, I certainly don’t want that, and besides don’t worry about the others. You’re doing amazing ah, that reminds me can you stay behind at the end? I just want to speak to you about your grade on our most recent exam. It’s nothing bad, I promise. You’ve done exceptionally well, in fact so well that I want to talk to you about further opportunities you have open to you.” She places her hand on my shoulder as we now stand face to face, she got up halfway through talking to lean on the front of her desk. I smile and subconsciously lean into her touch. The remains of the blush from the pet names yet again lingers but I say a small “Thank you Professor.” 

At that moment the door to the lecture hall swings open revealing another student in their own little world unaware of the building tension in the room. I give her one last smile and go make my way to a seat in the front row. I get out my laptop and notebook and start writing the dates and titles. I could feel eyes on me the whole time, I look up and lock eyes with Emily, finding her already looking at me. She sent me a wink and glanced back down at whatever she was working on. A crimson flush invaded my face and I returned my eyes to my page.

After the lesson I packed up slower than normal so that I’d be able to stay behind a little longer than she probably ment. I put my laptop in my bag and zip it up and grab my now empty hot chocolate. I walk up to Profesor Prentiss’ desk and find she’s already looking at me, again. 

“You know, you should stop staring at me so much. People might get the wrong idea.” I say, suddenly feeling confident, a teasing smirk on my lips. 

“What if I want them to get the wrong idea? What if I want them to think you’re mine?” I quickly shut up at that remark, all my confidence suddenly disappeared and I turned into putty. Heat rose to my cheeks and my head dipped to avoid her piercing gaze, it wasn’t mean, more admiration. But, any look from Emily Prentiss is intense. “Cat got your tongue honey?” She had a shit eating grin on her face as she saw me nod slowly. 

“Anyway, your grade! Okay you scared the highest in the class, and you got full marks. This isn’t anything new for you I'm sure, you’re a bright young woman. But, scoring this high in a test this hard, it opens doors for you. So, I’m here to offer you a chance to shadow me and the team for a week to see how we handle cases and what the job entails really. I also wanted to let you know that if you have any interest in joining the team I would accept you in a heartbeat. You’re a brilliant profiler.” Yet again for what feels like the millionth time today, heat rises to my cheeks. She stalks the way round her desk and stands in front of it. 

“That sounds amazing, oh my god, really?” A smile broke out on my face immediately. She looked pleased at my reaction and took a step closer. 

“Yeah of course really, why would I joke?” She laughed softly. I muttered a small ‘true’ and kept shamelessly checking her out as she still came closer to me and lowered her lips down to my ear and whispered, “Do I make you nervous darling? Is that why you get all shy whenever I’m around?” I nodded again while looking down, her hand found my chin and tilted it up. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” I felt a strange tingling in my lower stomach as she said that. 

I looked her in the eye and she bought me closer. “Is this okay?” she muttered, her breath fanning across my face due to the proximity. 

“Yes.” I breathed out. That was all the confirmation she needed to softly press her lips to mine. She held me like I might break at any minute, so tentative and caring it made my heart flutter. My hands found their way around my waist and I pulled her closer. She moved us around so now I was the one against the desk as she deepened the kiss, her tongue moving into my mouth. I instantly let her take control of the kiss and press her hips against mine. A small whine left my lips and I lent into her arms which were on my hips. 

She pulled away and looked into my eyes before whispering, just to me even though there was no one else there, “I don’t want this to just be a fling, just to make that clear.” I smiled wide and pecked her lips once more. 

“Neither do I.” She pulled me in again and we kissed with smiles on both of our faces. We knew we would have to be a secret for a while obviously but it didn’t stop me from fantasising about what was to come.

#wlw #lesbian #wlw fanfic #lesbian pride #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #sapphic #criminal minds #wlw pride #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x y/n

[yuriisclumsy]

What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland?

╰Description: [Name] is one of the top mage in Twisted Wonderland, right after Malleus Draconia.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (You are here)

—May 3, 2024—

Thought… This is a continuation on the What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland? 

So far—over a month—the students of NRC have become accustomed with [Name]...kind of. 

What do I mean by kind of? 

Let’s just say that those who have her are now dying to get out of the class. Too bad for them because their one-week deadline has passed, and now they can’t. At least they want to lose the credit and money.  

Turns out, having a pretty girl as your professor doesn’t make up for the torture you’ll endure. 

Now, everyone is afraid to even approach [Name]. She doesn’t mind this, in fact, she quite likes it. Peace and silence. The two things she adores the most. 

So much as to get the students to participate more. Thank Crowly for this. 

In the month [Name] had been teaching, all she’s done is give theory. Heavy for those that have advanced places, and slightly less for those who have normal classes. Though you’ll be damned if you thought that she’ll have it easy on you if you have normal classes with her. Aduece Duo and Grim are probably off complaining to Yuu about how difficult the class is. 

The members of the cast that follow rules and usually are studious find this class a bit…too much. But, not enough to make you want to jump off a bridge. The other students get by with deep dive studying. As for those that are lazy–AGHEM–Leona–COUGH–[Name] won’t let them go that easily. 

Why don’t we take a look at how well her students did in the first test, shall we? 

…

Because of the way [Name] likes to do this, all results are given a week after the test during a time when there are no classes. Which means all of her classes are gathered here in one spot. It’s easier for her to do it this way. If there are any questions, she can just answer them and not have to repeat it to her other classes. 

The first test on theory had concluded a week ago, and the students are now in [Name]’s class to get their results. They talk amongst their peers about how they think they did on the test. Some say they did poorly, others think they at least got a passing grease, no one will know for certain until they get those papers back.  

The class starts to quiet down as professor [Name] walks in. She walks until she is standing on the podium looking out towards the students with a blank expression—nothing new for the students, as she is like that everyday. 

“I have graded all the tests. I will pass them out. But before that, I would like to say that the results of this test met my expectations.” [Name] said nonchalantly. 

At this the students became happy and full of hope. Maybe the majority of them pass. Some even began to cheer. 

[Name] took the stack of tests and began to make her way down the list of students in alphabetical order, as she had instructed them prior to entering, with the few exceptions of Malleus, Silver, Yuu, and Grim (Silver, Yuu, and Grim being the obvious ones). 

The first three rows had gotten their tests back, much to their excitement. But from the noises of disappointment and failure reaching their classmates further up, they began to question if they had passed the test. 

“Aww man…and I studied really hard for this!” Kalim sulked in his seat. 

“If by studying, you mean cramming last minute, then yes, you studied really hard.” Jamil frowned at his Housewarden, shaking his head in a disapproving manner. “Next time, come to the library to study. I’ll teach you what you don’t know.” 

“Really!” Kalim’s round eyes sparkled to the point it made the people around him cover their eyes. “You really are the best Jamil!” 

“...Ah…of course I am.” he said, having his eyes closed. 

Going further up, [Name] began to speak after hearing more dissatisfied students. 

“It seems like my expectations were met. Only 10 percent of you passed this exam.” She said matter-of-factly, still passing out tests. 

“What?!” 

“But I studied for days for this!” 

“She’s lying…right?” 

“I want to get out of this class…” 

“How is that even possible...?!” 

“No way…” 

“Can’t believe it…even if I studied for a whole month, I wouldn't have passed this.” 

“She has to be joking.” 

“Kehehe.” A grimling laugh was heard throughout the chatter of students. It came from a young boy with black and pink strokes. He had pointed ears, a staple for the Valley of thorns citizens. 

“Finding this amusing, are you, Lilia?” A considerably tall young man with pale skin and the same pointed ears asked. 

“Oh, please, Malleus. You can’t deny the fact that you find this entertaining too.” Lilia retorted with a smile. 

“Hehe, I suppose it is. What’s more intriguing is the fact that she was expecting those results.” He turned to Lilia, “don't you have to be up there to get your test back?” 

The young lad’s eyes widened, “ah! You’re right!” He said before disappearing into thin air. 

There were only two rows left to hand out the test. Going up, [Name] came face to face with Leona. 

“Kingsholar.” 

“Professor.” 

There was a moment of silence as the two stared down at each other (although one was staring down, and the other up). Without more time [Name] gave him his test back and moved in shortly after. 

She was already three students down when Leona slammed the desk in front of him. This grabbed everyone's attention: all eyes were on him now. 

[Name] turned around, not amused by Leona’s behavior. She predicted he was going to act this way when he got his test back. 

“Is there something wrong for you to act in a way, Kingsholar?” 

“...you” 

“I’m sorry, I am unable to hear you. You’ll have to speak louder.” [Name] was preparing herself for the yelling of the century. 

“HOW COULD YOU GIVE ME AN A IF I GOT EVERYTHING WRONG?!” The students around him jumped, getting scared. No one had seen him that mad. Apart from the students that saved him from the blot, this was a new level of anger. 

“*sigh* isn’t it obvious why I would bypass the grading system and give you an A?” she asked, looking at Leona with a are-you-stupid face. 

“...” 

“No? I guess I must spell it out for you then.” [Name] got closer to him. Taking his test into her hands, she looked it over before averting her gaze at him. “Out of all the questions you got everything wrong.” 

“Exactly. So, how the hell did I get an A?” He demanded to know he passed the test, if he had no correct answers. It was preposterous in his opinion. Having every question wrong would mean an F, so having it be an A this time…felt wrong. 

“Do you not see what is wrong with this?” She asked. 

“No?” Leona was getting irritated. Can’t she just say what she needs to say? 

[Name] hummed. “Can someone tell me what is wrong with that? Anyone?” She turned to the rest of the class. 

A student in the front row had put his hand up to answer the question. 

“Āshengrotto. Can you tell me what is wrong with this statement?” 

“Yes, professor.” Azul put his hand down and fixed his glasses. “If this test was a written exam the chances of getting a zero are likely. But, because this test is a multiple-choice question, it would be impossible to get zero percent, as you have more chances of guessing the correct answer.” 

She smiled at the answer. “That was beautiful. Thank you, Mr. Āshengurotto. Point for Octavinelle.” Some Octavinelle students cheered for their Housewarden, the loudest being Floyd. 

“As you hear Āshengurotto say, it would be near impossible to get a zero percent on a multiple-choice test.” she said, turning to face Leona again. His face spelled mad.

“Yeah, so? I could have gotten lucky.” Leona said sarcastically. He wanted to get this over with.

“Mmmm…maybe. Or you simply wanted to fail.” [Name] said accusing him.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I would have agreed with you that you could have gotten lucky enough to get a zero…if not for the fact that you are good with theory. In fact, you are one of the best students in this class with this subject.”

“The only option left…is that you wanted to fail.” [name] finished the final blow as she handed the test back to him, before continuing to disperse the papers.

“Oh and, Kingsholar?” She turned to see him standing there, looking down at the paper that had a good score in. “You violated Rule number four. I expect to see a written paper on it in my desk in the following days.”

Leaving the conversation at that, she finished giving out the test and went back to the podium.

“If there are no further questions, you are dismissed.”

(finished: 5/19/2024, at 6.25pm)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @scarabiafriend, @sleep-ydragon, @d3sperate-enuf, @elaemae, @lucky-whispers, @kiwiimochi, @emmorphine, @azriel-sama, @amora-ledezma, @writerstrashbin, @marinahavik, @twstwondersforyou, @lunatheroyal, @ririsun, @dyedscarletletter, @kuureii, @otomega, @valacz29, @busy-dadzawa-fish, @sarah22447, @valacz29, @wondering-again. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Twisted wonderland. Back to The Mind

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#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #reader insert #reader input #twisted wonderland x reader #The Mind #twst lilia vanrouge #riddle rosehearts #vil schoenheit #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #idia shroud #ortho shroud #jamil viper #kalim al asim #rook hunt #silver twst #sebek zigvolt #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twst malleus #twst vil #twst #epel felmier

[bri-cheeses]

Jerseys vs. Hoodies - Part 5

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 971 | Part 4 is here |

-

Evan breathes in deeply. “Bee…” he says slowly, “I should probably tell you something first.”

Barty looks confused at the shift in tone, but he sits up straighter in order to listen anyways.

“Okay,” he says, and Evan’s never been more terrified in his life.

His next words come out shaky. “We’ll always be friends, right? No matter what happens?”

Barty frowns. “Of course. But Evs, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

His concern is enough to cause Evan to close his eyes as if he can block out all the bad by the performing the simple gesture. But when he opens them again, the fear and apprehension is still there.

“No,” he says, and it’s the most truthful thing he’s said in a while. “Bee, d’you know when you came to me that first night, and you kissed me, and I kissed you back without hesitation? Do you remember that?”

“…yeah?” Barty says slowly.

“Do you ever wonder why I didn’t question it, never even took a second to ask you why you were doing it?”

He doesn’t give Barty a chance to answer, staring at the table instead of looking at Barty as he continues, “It was because I didn’t want you to stop. I just wanted you to keep kissing me, no matter the cost, no matter your reasons behind it. For that minute I let myself enjoy kissing you, the feeling of having you kiss me, because I had wanted it for so long. And yeah, it hurt afterwards when you said that it didn’t mean anything. But I said “fine” and “okay” because that’s more than I ever thought I would get from you, and I was thankful for that tiny little scrap even if it “didn’t mean anything.” And then you came back, and again I took the scraps. And again, and again, until we had this little arrangement and I wasn’t worried anymore that every time we ever did something, it would be the last time.”

Tears are starting to blur his vision, and he refuses to look over at Barty, who remains silent.

He chokes out the next sentence. “But it hurt every time you reminded me it meant nothing, until eventually I couldn’t keep all of this to myself. So I told Pandora about it. And that helped a little, but soon after Reg started to get suspicious and confronted me about it, and I was so incredibly tired and I told him just about everything. So yeah, he knows, and yeah, that’s what he meant when he said “everything going on” between us. Which I guess makes it a low blow, but,” he laughs humorlessly, “nothing lower than I’ve been dealing with recently.”

He doesn’t look at Barty. He can’t look at Barty, can’t bear to see his expression as silence fills the space in between them.

“Evan,” Barty says, and that’s when Evan knows it’s going to be bad. Not “Evs” or “Evie” or even “Rosie.” Just “Evan.”

He tries not to let the tears fall, but it’s a struggle as he simultaneously tries to keep Barty from noticing his watery eyes.

“Evan,” Barty says again, “look at me.”

“No.”

“Evs,” Barty pleads.

Evs, Evan thinks. He said “Evs.” Not “Evan.”

So Evan turns towards Barty. He wipes his eyes in an effort to get rid of any traces of his tears, but it’s evident that he didn’t do a good enough job as Barty’s face softens as soon as he takes him in.

“I’m so sorry, Evie,” Barty says, reaching out a hand and pulling Evan into his chest.

It’s a nice gesture, so sweet that Evan can’t stop himself from collapsing into Barty, despite the fact that he knows Barty’s just trying to soften the blow that’s bound to come.

Here comes the rejection, Evan thinks, but still clutches on all the tighter to Barty’s sweatshirt. Maybe if he can hold on tight enough, Barty won’t go.

“I’m so, so sorry I made you feel that way,” Barty whispers, and his hand makes its way to Evan’s head and winds into his hair. Evan closes his eyes tightly, wanting to stay here in this moment before everything comes crashing down around him.

“I never meant to do that to you,” Barty continues. “That was never my intention at all.”

He pauses, as if contemplating whether or not to say something.

“Do you know why I kissed you in the first place?” he asks. Unlike Evan, he waits for a response.

“No,” Evan mumbles against Barty’s torso.

“Well, I don’t know if you remember, but I was slightly tipsy.”

Evan remembers. Of course he does.

“I saw you sitting there on your bed, and thought, “Merlin, he’s so beautiful.” And you wanna know something? It wasn’t the first time that I had had that thought. Not even close. I just hadn’t acted on it, because… well, you’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to mess that up. But I guess the alcohol had gone straight to my brain, because I couldn’t stop myself from walking up to you and simply kissing you.”

“And I’m not proud of what I did afterwards, when I finally started thinking clearly again and panicked about you hating me because of what I had done. I told you that it didn’t have to mean anything. And if I could somehow go back in time and take that back, I’d do it in a heartbeat, consequences be damned. Because I really had wanted it to mean something. I still want it to mean something. I just didn’t think that you would want the same thing, so I never said anything.”

“But,” he says softly, his hand sliding out of Evan’s hair to cup his face and turn his gaze upward, “I’m saying something now.”

-

(The sixth and final part will come out sometime this week) (Hopefully)

#i hate finals #it makes it so hard to do anything other than study #but somehow i’m still cranking out rosekiller because that’s just how my brain works i guess #rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #marauders #rosekiller microfic #bri’s microfics

[hannahssimblr]

I spend three hours wandering around the estate looking for Goose. I've checked every front garden, every hedge and flower bed and under every car, looked inside bins and up trees by the time I'm forced to contend with the fact that I haven't confronted the railroad tracks yet. I don't. I never pluck up the courage.

I can’t fathom it, being the one to find him there, sweet Goose with his little kitten paws and soft pewter fur. This thought that I hadn’t even considered until Michelle spat it at me is tormenting me now as I forlornly wander the evening streets, calling out the name that I’m not even sure he knows to answer to yet. 

I stumble upon Jen in a little park we used to drink in when we were fourteen. She’s been out looking too, evidently, but has had enough and is sitting on the ground gazing out over the last russet streaks of sunset over Dublin Bay. 

“Have you given up?” I ask her. Her eyes are clouded with sadness 

“I have a feeling he’s gone, Jude,” she says. I feel a lump forming in my throat. “He mightn’t be. He might come back, you know, cats are known to show up after being away for days, weeks, months even,” this is the sort of bargaining a person who refuses to accept the obvious truth gets too involved with, and the kind I’ve been doing with myself the whole afternoon, thinking that maybe if I imagine Goose’s return with enough conviction I will magic him home again, but Jen, for once does not match my idealism.

“He probably doesn’t know where his home is yet, he’s too new.”

“Yeah,” I shift some loose gravel with the toe of my shoe. “Jen, I feel so awful.”

“I know,” she says, and holds her arms out to me to pull me to the ground and wrap them around me, “It isn’t your fault, it could have happened to any of us.”

“I ruined the entire day with my stupidity.”

“Shh, stop,” gently fingers stroke my hair at the nape of my neck, “you just made a mistake, it’s human.”

“Did I ruin your date?”

She pauses, “It’s okay, I don’t think she realised it was a date, and it's probably for the best.” 

The wind rustles through the trees around the park, and I feel chilled with the knowledge that change is coming. The school year is ending soon and now the future lies unavoidably ahead of me, a path completely untrodden. 

“You’ll find someone else to take to the debs,” I tell Jen, peering at the side of her face as her short crop of chestnut hair is backlit by the sunset. “You should have been the first person to get a date anyway.”

She gives me a half smile, unconvinced, “there are like, four lesbians in our year including me.”

“Out lesbians,” I point out, “You never know.”

“When I go to college it will be better,” she says firmly, “school is just destined to be shit, romantically, I mean.”

“In all ways, I think.”

She just laughs. 

“This stuff is bullshit anyway.”

“What is? Love?”

I rub my arms where goosebumps are rising with the cold. I should have worn a jumper. “Yeah, you’re not missing out on much.”

A silence follows, one that feels deliberate, but I venture into it anyway, “Michelle and I had a bad fight earlier.”

“I heard.”

“Us shouting?”

“Mm.”

“Sorry.” I wipe my nose which is running from the cold with the back of my arm. “It was terrible, we both said awful things.”

She just circles her hand on my knee in a vague gesture of comfort.  

“Sometimes it feels like she’s trying to hurt me, you know what I mean? It’s like she has all of this bad stuff stored up that she wants to, like, unleash. It’s so vicious. It seems like she really wants to dig her nails in and leave a mark on me, and then I get so defensive, like, because talking it out doesn’t work, I have to shout, and I have to be horrible too so that she’ll even react to me.”

“We all say things we regret when we’re upset.”

“Yeah, but it’s so destructive. I come away from it all feeling like shit. Like, this isn't who I am, I’m not a person who fights. At least I don’t want to be. I don’t want to be up there saying these things to her, but I can’t stand there and let her say them to me either.”

“Yeah.”

“And I worry a lot about what things are going to look like after this year is over, like, with college and stuff,” even mentioning it makes my stomach feel tight, “like, um, how she wants us to live together and all.”

“And you’re nervous about that?”

I sigh, “Well, I don’t know, it makes sense to do it, right? She thought we could get a little place near NCAD, and we’ve been looking at houses online, and… I don’t know. The idea of being around her all of the time, like, twenty-four-seven, sharing a bed, eating every meal together, walking to college, it makes me feel claustrophobic, and then I worry that if I feel that way now, how am I going to feel when I’m actually doing it? Surely it’s not supposed to feel so terrible, right?” I prompt her when she doesn’t respond, “Jen? What do you think?”

She pauses for a long moment, toying with the aglets on the end of her boot laces. “I think that you’re asking me for an opinion I’m not prepared to give you.”

“...right.”

“We agreed, I agreed with you both that I’d never talk to one about the other. It’s not fair on me and I don’t want to feel stuck in the middle of it.”

“But-”

“You’re both nice people and I love you both so much, but when you are together you are absolutely horrible. That’s all I want to say.”

I don't know how to respond to that, so I don't, I just sit in bad feelings and wish for the millionth time that my brain was normal enough to make good choices on its own and not beg them from other people.

I sniff again, though this time I’m not sure if it’s just because of the cold. “So, um, the acceptance deadline for those other colleges is coming up.” 

“The foreign ones?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you still going to turn them down?”

“I promised Michelle that I would.” 

Jen’s shoulders slump, all of her does, like someone has let the air out of her, but she just says, “Alright.”

I feel the teeth of my genuine desperation for her opinion, her approval gnawing at me. I just want the sage words of advice she’s withholding from me, “Is it a mistake? Like, if I reject their offers? Would that be the stupidest thing I ever did?”

“I don’t know.”

“I worked hard, you know? I really put everything I had into those applications, I gave them the best that I had and they loved it, they said really nice things about me in the letters, and sometimes, like, I think I’ll die, or something, if I don’t leave Dublin. But then there’s Michelle,” I fist the front of my hair in my hand, “and the things at home, and I don’t know what the right thing is, whether it’s hurting myself or hurting everyone else…”

“Jude,” Jen suddenly grabs hold of my face and forces me to look into her eyes, “you have to do what feels right, okay? I’m not going to tell you what to do. Like, just… you need to fucking search within or whatever.”

“Uh huh. What does that entail?” 

“I dunno!” She lets me go and stands up, brushing dirt from the back of her jeans, “C’mon, it’s cold, we should go home.”

“Uh, I was kind of hoping you’d be able to solve me, actually.”

“No, this time you can solve yourself. C’mon, up!” She presents her hand to me and I let her haul me onto my feet. 

“Ugh, Jen,” I say, feeling myself sinking back into a melancholy hole again, but she links my arms and brusquely walks me toward the playground gates with all the pep of a middle aged Sunday morning power walker. “You know what? I think we could both do with something nice to make us feel better.”

“What do you mean ‘something nice’?

“Like, I dunno, an ice cream or something.”

“What time is it? It must be after nine.”

“Yeah, so? I was thinking of that place with all the weird flavours, do you remember that?”

“Yeah, but it’s all the way in town. Effort.”

“You can drive, can’t you?”

“You want me to drive? Jen I hate driving.”

“I think you’ll do it for me.”

“Why’d you think that?”

She eyes me sideways, “After what you put me through today, hm?”

“That's manipulation.”

“No, it's payback.”

“Fine. I’ll go get the car.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Come on, before I change my mind.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #love the golden hour lighting here i gotta say #sunblind u did it again #san sequoia is also just gorge #even tho it's not my fave world it's got that perfect leafy suburban vibe i want #tw: pet loss #tw: pet death #tw: violence mention

[beachy--head]

Drabble time, because one of the thousands reasons I love Japril so much is that they're both equally attracted to each other, even though Jackson is the one always pictured as constantly horny for April (which he is, obviously, but she is as well). So here are our two horny idiots, Boston's style, pre-reunion.

___

Jackson looks hot today.

Which is no mean feat, because those damn Avery-Fox genes always make sure that Jackson Avery looks good every day, but there’s something about the way he looks today that makes April hyper aware of everything he’s doing.

He’s in her office, bringing back some paperwork she had asked him to sign, and she cannot concentrate on a single thing he says. She doesn’t know if it’s the rolled-up sleeves, showing off his forearms, or the way he’s been letting his curls grow lately. If it’s the salt and pepper sprinkled on his stubble, or the way his shirt is tucked in his pants, or the fact that she knows the sound he would make if she’d just trail her hand through his hair and on his neck, and she finds herself blushing. 

She absolutely hates it.

Because she cannot find him hot. Good-looking, yes (she has eyes, after all), but attractive? Attractive is a slippery slope. Attractive would lead to opening a door that she thought was forever closed, and would threaten to destroy everything they've built so far in Boston – the friendly co-parenting, the dropping at each other’s place unannounced for a family dinner, the Saturday afternoons in the park with Harriet, the dance recitals seated next to each other. 

It’s not fair, that she still finds him handsome, when both have moved on (or at least are supposed to). Even more, it’s ironic she has these thoughts about her first ex-husband when she’s supposed to be grieving the second one (in the last six months since she moved to Massachusetts, Matthew has only crossed her mind when she thinks about poor little Ruby, and she cannot even muster the courage to feel bad about it). 

She’s lucky that Jackson gets a call in the middle of his explanations and has to rush out. She’s left to gather herself, and notices that he forgot his jacket in his hurry. She bends to pick it up to hang it so it doesn’t wrinkle, and, after looking left and right to make sure no one’s looking, she buries her nose in it and can’t help but take a sniff. It still smells the same, this infuriating good smell that is not only caused by expensive cologne, and she closes her eyes, assaulted by a thousand memories. 

When she comes back to reality, she shakes her head and walks to the hook behind her office's door, hanging the jacket before she can do something stupid like call him back and kiss him senseless.

__

April is acting weird.

Years of being apart haven’t weakened Jackson’s knowledge of April Elizabeth Kepner, and that’s why he knows something’s up. She hasn’t been looking him in the eye lately, and now he’s in her office, there are other telltale signs that something is up. She’s hiding something from him, and he’s afraid of finding out what.

I hate working for the foundation and Boston is so cold, I wish I never moved here.

Bailey offered me my old job back and I’m moving back to Seattle with Harriet, see you on the weekends.

I made a huge mistake, Matthew is the love of my life and I’m going to Philly so we can have five children and live happily ever after.

He doesn’t know which scenario scares him the most (the third one, definitely), and he wonders if he should simply ask her what’s going on, if she’d open up to him like she used to. They’re great friends again, but nothing more, mostly because he’s afraid it would be greedy to ask for more, when she has already given up so much to follow him here, and he’s afraid to mess this up. 

Lost in his thoughts, he’s reaching for a file, not noticing she’s doing the same, and a jolt of electricity courses through him when their hands accidentally touch. She quickly removes her hand, murmuring a quick word of apology he waves off, but it unnerves him. Does she feel it, too? That can't-bear-not-touching-you thing that used to be theirs? Is something still there, or is it simply a remnant from a past he thinks about way too often?

Later that day, he’s dropping off Harriet at her place for the weekend (though he’s going to see the both of them the next day so they can go roller-skating, so “for the weekend” is a little bit generous), and as he says goodbye, he leans towards her and, in a gesture of habit, almost kisses her. A simple peck, a routine kiss, a “see you later” that usually goes unnoticed (that is, when you’re married to the person in question and kiss her every day). He manages to stop himself before actually doing something, at great cost, because a part of him is ready to kiss her, consequences be damned. He takes a step back, almost ready for April to slap him and slam the door, but then he sees something in her eyes. Something that reminds him of elopements, of Sundays spent in bed, and of a time when from his lips, the phrase “my wife” sounded like he was praying. 

As he leaves her building and starts walking home, he smiles to himself. When he gets home, he opens his laptop and starts looking for the best florist in town, because maybe some things aren’t better left in the past, and like always when it comes to her, he’s ready to go all in.

#drabble #japril #jackson avery #april kepner

[beneathashadytree]

IMPORTANT POST!!

Hi guys.

I think I will have to close my requests unless something changes. I normally wouldn’t do this when I LOVE receiving requests from you guys, but I will have to do this because people keep repetitively ignoring my rules for requesting, despite the link to them being in my pinned post.

I understand that many of you guys are new followers, and I’m so happy to have you here! But it’s getting very exhausting having to reblog my rules for requesting practically every week because people just don’t bother looking at them before sending in a request.

My rules aren’t there to be mean. They’re there to protect my peace and create a safe space for me online, just as I hope I’m helping you guys create for yourselves. In fact, most of my rules are there PRECISELY to make it a safe space for everyone.

My most ignored rules are these two:

1- No gender of the reader is specified (hence why I only use they/them pronouns in a gender-neutral manner)

2- No physical appearance or details are specified (anatomy, race, size, shape, sexuality, religion, beliefs, etc)

Even after I reiterated my rules twice last night, and reminded everyone that last night’s SMAU was a one-time thing because I’m simply horrible at saying no, within less than 30 minutes of posting about that I’d already received 3 requests completely disregarding my rules and going against them.

My reasoning for both is that I am an extremely underrepresented POC with a unique identity—in fact, I can’t think of a single piece of media that represents me in all the aforementioned categories. This caused me to understand that so, so, so many people will be inevitably excluded if I specified anything about the reader. And if I did, I would have to make individual posts for every single possibility under the sun, and there would be 0 plot or substance in these posts.

And that’s why I’m saying it again: please always assume that you are ALWAYS represented in my works. It doesn’t matter what you look like or what you identify as, my fics/SMAUs are all made with you in mind. I rethink everything I write (eg: hair length/type, clothes by only metioning cloth materials, and blushing that differs in appearance—if it shows at all—from one skin color to the next) and make them as vague as humanly possible to make sure that they’d be fitting for EVERYONE. You are never, ever meant to be excluded in this fandom. We’re all so diverse and different from each other, that it would be impossible to cater to every single person individually and not miss someone along the way. I would never wish that feeling of exclusion on ANYONE.

I keep reblogging my rules because I would hate to embarrass anyone by calling them out individually. But it’s upsetting feeling that people are just ignoring what makes me comfortable and what I feel would make my blog the safest place possible. So now it seems that I will have to close my requests until I can make sure that everyone has read my rules and understood precisely why they’re there.

This is never out of malicious intent, but out of an insistence that I make everyone feel welcomed while creating more content for everyone in the fandom to consume. I would love to be friends with everyone in the fandom, and to always talk to you guys!! But I hope you understand where I’m coming from and looking at it from everyone’s respective POVs when reading my works.

I hope everyone is doing well and that you’re all safe, happy, and loved💗💗💗

#maya talks

[aachria]

ive been on here like five times but I have THEORIES DAMMIT

let kings come to the domain of the stars. Or let the kings rule over the stars? It really depends on the context of dominion — whether it means have dominion or if it means dominion like a place. And if any of those marks were punctuation, it may mean something else entirely

surely some star binds me to you

oh my god we got a reference to the title, let me explain more (and my small theory)

ok so they both died (Ed and mystery man who we're gonna call Canadian gramps, or CG) and ended up in the world of one piece. Ed died in 2023 and cg died around 20 years ago which was 2004. surprise surprise, in 2004 in the real word volume 32, the one that ended skypiea and started long ring long land, volume 33 with the Davy back fight, volume 34 THE INTRO TO WATER SEVEN, and volume 35 still in water 7, were all released. let me say the again, the two volumes that were introducing water 7 were released in 2004, the year that CG supposedly died in. i think that CG and Ed knew each other in a past life, maybe they were related or maybe they weren't, but not in the real world, but this kingdom that has been mentioned. Ed and CG are connected to the stars, I think its trying to let us believe that either they are gods or do literally have actual control over them, they rule over them. surely some star binds me to you, a star that they perhaps both share or rule over. the fact that Ed ate devil fruit that can flip an entire island isn't a coincidence, they don't just turn the gravity of others but CONTROL THEM. i think we can even assume that CG may have had some sort of power after he died a second time and was sent to one piece. Ed is more powerful then we are let on, even Ed isn't aware of this. Ed was almost talking to their past self in the dream they had, when they're talking to their mouth I believe it was past Ed, before they were reincarnated. they boy that the others mentioned, it reminds me of Luffy but I don't believe so, I think its either CG or Joyboy. I think that Ed has some sort of connection to Joyboy and maybe even CG does too. when Ed says that they saw a halo above Luffy I don't think it was just delirium, I think its supposed to be Ed seeing Luffy as Joyboy. Ed, CG, and Joyboy were possibly kings or gods of the stars and they died. they died and only CG and Ed were taken to the "real world" but Joyboy stayed back, CG and Ed died again and came (back?) to one piece. this isn't going to turn into Ed finding out who CG is but finding out they were once apart of the stars. surely some star binds me to you, maybe it does, maybe they are bound by the stars. also I'm pretty sure he died 20 years ago right? I was kinda confused with the years and stuff in the new chapter so if you explain plssssss

Your brain is doing things. Your theory definitely hits quite a few interesting points, which I appreciate. As a reward for being such a sweetheart, I’ll give you a hint. Pseudo dad/uncle (or Canadian gramps, which is hilarious) did not die in 2004. Take that as you will, and happy theorying.

The year thing from last chapter was like this; Roger died and the Roger Pirates disbanded around 20 years ago in canon, which is when Ed assumed CG gave Crocus the spyglass. The Oro Jackson was built some time before the God Valley incident, which was 39 years before canon (post-timeskip time I believe, so more like 37 years current time) and Ed guessed that CG had the coin stamped in the spyglass made when they were on Water 7 to get the ship. That doesn’t give us any definitive knowledge about what age CG was, or when they could have arrived in the world of One Piece. Mayhaps the answer shall be revealed this saga, but who knows.

#sssbmty #one piece #one piece ocs #math is not my strong suit I will not lie to you

[rosstrytobe]

Thinking if in s7 epidose 1, Chris was forshading just in part Eddie love life there are some points that are really interesting:

1) The first girl that Chris brings at home, eating pizza and playing videogames is Penny, a blonde girl that he met at math class (as Eddie told to Buck) and Eddie say that he doesn’t get if it was a date because it seems to him that they were just hanging out as two male friends do (👀👀). Even though from the scene we know Christopher and Penny are smiling so they both are enjoying this date. Even though Eddie can’t see it because he was behind them and watching them afar

Now, It's pretty obvious who they are referring to because videogames and pizza is what Buck, Eddie and Christopher did from the past 6 years. Penny is blonde as Buck and him and Eddie smiled everyday when they are with each other because they enjoy their time with each other

The math class also is a methaphor because in the past seasons we saw that neither Eddie and Buck knows anything about math until Buck died and when he came back he knew all the answears and he was a jenious at math. That brought them to their first poker date night togheter as Chris and Penny dated because they met in math class. Even though neither of them knew it was a date

Eddie watching Chris from afar it can be also a methaphor of the fact that now he can’t see what he have with Buck because he doesn’t think that what they do is romantic coded or anything but then Buck line came and it's very important because Buck is the first one who are saying that there is just ONE CASE where there's underlying sexual tension and Eddie face to that was speechless. Almost as he got what Buck said but he doesn’t want to think about it. So what Eddie did? He just change the subject

Because if we think about it, in episode 5, Eddie didn’t think Buck and Tommy was interested in each other in a romantic way. Also, Eddie didn’t think Tommy was gay in the first place and it freak Eddie out a bit but then he just proceed to support his best friend because nothing will ever change his bond with Buck. As he tried to change the topic and talking about something else. But then at the bachelor party Eddie couldn’t hide his feelings and from his expression is pretty obvious is jealous of Tommy

But what Eddie did in next episode? Instead of understand why he was a little mean to Tommy he put himself in an emotional cheating relantionship with a copy of his dead wife (💀💀). Again, he's trying not to think about it and putting that feeling away. Changing the subject

2) The second girl Chris was talking to, she was a black hair girl who we don't even know her name (👀👀). As we don't know Marisol last name. And the first thing we see about her is her jealous towards Penny because Chris was two timing her. As now Eddie is doing it to Marisol with Kim. And if Tim wasn’t jocking with the Vertigo post, we know Marisol (the nun) will break Eddie illusion to bring back Shanon on his life and of course they will break up in the end (😍🥳)

3) Buck talked with Christopher of why he was seeing more than one girl and how it was wrong for his sake. Christopher answer that he doesn’t care about them because he knows they will leave him in the end as his mom did. Eddie heard them and later he give his son the Shannon letter and with that. It seems Christopher have his closure with his mom (We don't know it yet until the last two episodes airs)

Now, from Ryan interview we know Buck is going to meet Kim and I think if that's so. Then Buck would try to tell Eddie how it is wrong for his sake and his relantionship with the nun (lol) as he did for Christopher. But I think also, that as Christopher didn’t listen to him. Eddie won't listen to Buck either. Because Eddie is still missing Shannon in some ways and seeing her in Kim face made him again romanticed his marriage with her. When we know the memories he played weren’t happy ones but where we saw there were problem in their marriage. Problems in wich Shannon asked Eddie to divorce him before dying

But as Christopher have found his way to close that chapter with the letter. Kim is the key to Eddie to have that closure with Shannon and realize why he can’t commit to any women he's been with or have what he though he had with Shannon. Because he have to go deep into himself and understand something he didn’t understand before (as his sexuality or his feelings for Buck)

#eddie diaz #christopher diaz #buckley diaz family #911 abc #buddie #911 speculation #thoughts #analysis #eddie diaz analysis #shannon #poker date night #math theory

[yaut-jaknowit]

Peace Was Never An Option

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3234

Summary: Sometimes in life, you have to grab your problems by the balls and manhandle them. We'ar-ow challenges Dwainet to a battle to the death this time. Winner takes all. This changes everything. You beg for her to change her mind. You couldn't believe what she was saying!

Author Note: It's growing tense in here! Whatever shall happen? You have to pray to Paya for this to work out in your favor.

Masterlist

Ao3

We’ar-ow holds you in her lap, face to face with the alien. Her towering size dwarfed yours. Both of your hands rest on her chest while you peered up at her. Fear and concern etched into your features.

The last week has been tense. You only learn there are more. More that think like Dwainet. Who want to take down We’ar-ow for good. Kill her. Get rid of their Monarch. Your… Those thoughts trailed off before they could finish. Your hands twitched, hesitant before following through their own mind. They cupped the bottom jaw of We’ar-ow.

Her mandibles twitched, scaring you off. But her hands instantly pressed them back to her skin. We’ar-ow leaned forward and bumped her forehead against yours. Then, her eyes drifted shut, holding you to her. Timidly, you followed her lead, eyes on the verge closing before flicking open. But We’ar-ow kept her gaze closed. You relaxed against her, muscles going lax in her lap.

One of her hands left yours and found its way wrapped around your throat. A long time ago, you would’ve fought and scream your terror. Now, you trusted her, you let her have her fun. Her long fingers encased the entirety of your throat, yet never going far enough to squeeze. Just a hold, to let you know it’s there. You kept your eyes closed the entire time.

“I have you,” she whispered softly into the tender air and rubbed her pressed forward more against yours. Your fingers tensed, nails nearly desperate to dig into her thick scales. Instead, you refrained from pushing any boundaries.

Your breath stuttered in your chest. You about twisted away from her, heart beginning to race for two different reasons. Fear is at the center of all your problems. It’s an all consuming terror that fills your very being. Your nails finally press into the softer flesh of her mandibles. The Yautja doesn’t act indifferently.

“I feel like this war is my fault,” you admit to the silence in the air, eyes refusing to open and face the day. Deep down, you knew your words would anger the giant who has shielded you from the cruelness that makes up her species. The reasoning isn’t clear to you though. Despite her claim over you, you still don’t know why she does all this. Getting rid of you would be the best option.

We’ar-ow stiffened under you, even her hand tightened; thumb and middle finger pressing firmly against the arteries on the sides of your neck. Your breath caught in your throat. The Yautja pulled her head away from yours and used her thumb to force your chin up. Yet, your eyes were still closed.

A growl vibrated across We’ar-ow’s pink skin. Her mandibles clack against one another. “You dare blame yourself for the mess that scum caused,” she seethed and tugged your forward into her space. The heat from her gaze strong. “Look at me, ooman.” When you refused to listen to her command, she tightened slightly. “Open your goddamn eyes.” The words weren’t loud but the order was laid upon you thickly.

Slowly, you peeled your eyes open and find her blazing gaze upon yours. Almost instantly, you would’ve closed them if she didn’t growl deeply in warning.

“You still don’t understand,” We’ar-ow stated rather than questioned. A true fact by her means. Your brows furrowed while you looked upon the Yautja. As your mouth dropped to speak, We’ar-ow used her thumb to pin your jaw shut. “No, you do not get to speak. You get to listen.”

Despite your mouth being forcefully shut, you made a weak confused noise and tried to jerk out of her hold. It was stupid to think you could escape from her hold at all.

“How many times must I state this: you are my ooman. I have laid my claim upon you. No other Yautja from any clan can refute this. I’d kill anyone who dare even try.” The only hand cupping the back of yours finally slipped away only to circle around the back of your waste. You huffed this time and glared at her, face scrunched up.

The hard, stoic façade crumbled away at your expression. She sighed and let her head rolled forward, almost bumping against yours. “Trust my words, little one. No one can take you away from me.” We’ar-ow picked up her head and let her hold on your throat fall away.

When the silence engulfed the two of you once more, your hands dropped from her jaw to your lap. Nervously, you picked at the sew line on your clothing. The memory not far in your mind at the reminder on how these clothes came to be. You should’ve realize back then a Yautja would not beat around the bush. Nakedness is part of their culture. There is nothing to hide or be ashamed of while bare.

Your head bowed on its own accord as thoughts ran wild. This isn’t the life you signed up for. The dangers that threatened you not only every day but every waking and sleeping moment were forever present. Dwainet was still alive with his following. Him and some others wanted overthrow We’ar-ow from her throne.

At this point, there was no turning, no running away from this life. You’ve been roped far too deep. There is no escape. We’ar-ow knew from the beginning. Any attempt would’ve been crushed and eliminated.

But, We’ar-ow’s not mad, not angry at your research, your want to escape. Instead, it seemed like she was impressed. You didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. As she’s made clear, you are hers.

Dwainet’s presence still lingers terrifyingly over your head. A nuance who won’t leave you alone. That’s all you’ve wanted from him: to be left alone. Why won’t he? He’s made it abundantly clear he does not want you. You were his toy that he grew bored with and discarded with little care. Now, you sit upon his Monarch’s lap, your own throne in a way.

A little thing such as yourself, with more power than any other Yautja on this ship besides We’ar-ow herself. Oh, how you’ve grown.

There was only one thing standing in your way of an enjoyable life. “How are you going to deal with Dwainet?” Dwainet. Dwainet, the only one who dared to step up to We’ar-ow and get into her way. The only one who somehow had the balls to think he could beat her. Who lost their pet to the one person who he can’t defeat alone. He’ll need an army to take down the beast that We’ar-ow is.

We’ar-ow leveled her gaze with yours. “The only way he’ll go down: a challenge.”

Your face flickered with confusion and concern. A challenge. What does she mean by that? “What do you mean you’re going to challenge him?” That doesn’t seem like it would do much to quell this. “Look where it got us in the first place. You bested him before and he still held his head high.” The male still thinks himself as great even after losing to We’ar-ow for sticking up against her.

The arm snared around your waist tugged you closer to her, pulling you flush to her torso. You gasped and placed your hands on her chest. The muscles may not be visible but they would be felt against your own stomach. “His head will be hung high, above our bed,” she promised with a snarl, arm tightening. “A reminder forever, no one comes between me and my ooman.”

She leaned in close, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Do you understand?” the pink Yautja whispered into your ear. You whimpered weakly, body tense and unsure the next course of action. She purposefully growled, holding her head in the same position as before. “Do you?”

You didn’t dare trust your voice carry what you needed answer with. Instead, you only nodded and gnawed on your bottom lip. There was a whole lot wrong with you. And that wasn’t even scratching the surface.

“Good.” She squeezed you against her one last time before sliding you off of her lap into a standing position. Even standing, you didn’t reach the top of her head. We’ar-ow stood to her full height, towering over your form. “Now, get dressed into clothing you deemed worthy for a meeting with an important figure.”

Well, that was ominous.

Curiosity killed the cat. You moved around her quarters, growing quite familiar with the space and the one who owns it. Her room itself was spacious as you grabbed the necessary clothes and slipped into them. They fit perfectly, not a single thing is wrong with them. Fuck you, Rauch but thank you for the perfect clothing. Prejudice ass.

Once finished, you stepped out from her room to find her waiting for you at the front door. Her eyes scanned from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You nearly felt subconscious until her gaze left. She motioned with the universal sign to follow her. You trotted across the expansive living space and joined at her side.

Before entering the hallway, We’ar-ow reached down and gently encased your hand with hers. You threaded your fingers through hers the best you could do. She gave a gentle squeeze before the two you began the trek to wherever she led you.

From the main level of the ship, you were taken to the deepest part of the ship. Far from the engines and cargo bay, was a dark corner of the ship that rarely had anyone. Besides the three four massive females who stood guard, adorned in armor meant for protection rather than looks. You glanced up at We’ar-ow for a fleeting moment in question, but she kept her gaze forward.

The guards side stepped their Monarch and allowed her entrance to this corner of the ship forgotten. The door slid open to reveal a room lined with glowing bars. Cells. This is a brig.

Your heart slammed into the dull metal floors, rolling around at your feet. Dwainet’s here. His followers are here. Instantly, your breath began to pick up, hand clutching tightly to We’ar-ow’s. Her’s being the rock to ground you. Why had she brought you here? The lump in your throat only grew as she had to tug you forward, to enter these grounds.

Immediately upon entering, those could peer through the bars of their new home, spotted your duo strutting down the hallway. Those who you didn’t think were apart of the revolution snarled and swiped through the bars.

One grew to close to you, nearly nicking you. When the Yautja attempted to retrieve its arm had said limb snatched then slammed onto the corner of wall. A deafening snap echoing into the air. The offending Yautja howled and scrambled away like a dog with its tail between its legs. We’ar-ow straightened her spine and began her march once more.

No one else dared to reach through the bars again.

When We’ar-ow came to a stop of pivoted on her heel, you felt the gaze of someone far too familiar. It took every ounce of will in your body to stop from shuttering. You drew a deep breath into your lungs, steeled your nerves, and faced danger with a level head.

Dwainet was a clear image of seething rage from the depths of hell. You knew if he could get his grubby hands on you, he would stop at nothing to tear you apart and make We’ar-ow watch the entire time.

Two forces who want you more than anything. Two forces who want you for different reasons.

Death. Life.

Grey eyes that could burn you to ground and leave on an scorch mark left. Eyes you once peered into for love wanted nothing more than you dead. The fear didn’t creep up your back. No, you let a boiling hatred for this Yautja, for this fucker who’s ruined your life, who disturbs your peace, rear its ugly head inside of you.

“Well, if it ain’t the ooman whipped Monarch and the soft meat coming to see me,” he drawled and rolled his head around and sat back, lax. As if he wasn’t about to meet his doom, where he’ll be challenged once and for all. Where he’ll be slaughter like he should’ve been all those months ago. Your mistake had come around to bite you in the butt but We’ar-ow is going to correct that. Then, this will all be over. Finally.

She looked down upon the tinier male with distain, as if she had stepped in dog poop. Yet, the flames of rage were evident in her bright eyes. “I challenge you, Dwainet Terorom, to a battle of death. Winner takes all,” she spoken evenly, unfazed by the male’s anger.

The male raised a brow then rolled his eyes. “’Winner takes all’? That’s all you have? What does this include? Cause if you are referring to your disgusting pet, I’ve had my fun running through it. The same hole gets old.”

Horror passed over your features, heat rushing to set your cheeks ablaze. His words hurt. They caused your heart to shatter all over again after you gathered the majority of the pieces again. You held back a pathetic whimper and turned your head, eyes closed. Your nose pressed to We’ar-ow’s forearm as you attempted to hold back tears.

Her hold tightened, squeezing your knuckles painfully together before releasing the near crushing hold. “My life and my title.”

Your eyes snapped wide. You ripped away from her to look up at the pink Yautja in shock. The trust in her abilities is high but to wager such a thing was… beyond anything you could ever think of. Life was one thing but her title as Monarch. Not in a million years could you ever see Dwainet be a leader of anything. She must believe it is a sure thing for her to win to allow that to be on the table.

An intrigued expression passed over his features. One of his upper mandibles quirking up. Dwainet leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he peered up at his Monarch. “Title, you say?” he purred in delight, eyes flickering over to you. The hatred overran any other emotion that swirled inside his grey eyes. “Monarch Dwainet. Ah, I already like the sound of that.”

One thing any youngsters do is count their eggs before they hatch.

“And you can bring two of any class to fight along your side. Of any skill level,” she added as well. Your jaw dropped. What?! That’s unfair! Why would she pit a three verses one against herself? That’s a death wish. Her hand squeezed yours, either to reassure you or silently telling you stop fretting. How could you though when she pulls this kind of trick?

A barked laugh left his throat. “You really want to watch me slaughter your pet before I take your title, don’t you? Or maybe, you want to die knowing, I might keep it, truly treat it like the pet it is. Something not even worthy of dignity.” Again, her grip tightened but for her this time. You couldn’t help the shuttered, afraid of what his words could mean for you.

There are worse things than death.

We’ar-ow squared her shoulders and looked down upon the scum in the cell before the two of you. “Do you accept?” Her voice stayed even, yet firm due to the quarrels fighting inside of her. Your nails began to bite into the back of her hand, holding on for dear life. Your life in the hands of her as you watched We’ar-ow nearly pass it back to Dwainet. The one who started it all.

Dwainet relaxed against the back wall again, leg slightly bouncing. “Hell yeah. I would be a fool to pass up a one-way ticket to becoming the Monarch,” he snorted. “I know exactly who I’ll recruit. Three verses one. You are a fool, Monarch.”

For the first time in months, you agreed with Dwainet. Whatever plan she had, she better share it with you.

“Does a week allow you enough time to prepare?” the pink Yautja asked him, mandibles slightly twitching. You were starting to freak out more internally. You didn’t dare look over at him, afraid of what his gaze may do to you. A week? A week before you could be handed back to Dwainet and forced to do his bidding.

He chuckled and rolled his head. “Plenty. Will that be enough for you to say goodbye to that pathetic toy you’ve claimed?” he taunted and scoffed in your direction. You couldn’t help the flinch and down casted gaze to the ground. You felt meek, weak in the eyes of him.

Where has all your confidence, your power gone now?

“My ooman will forever be at my side.” This was a statement, a fact that felt bound by blood. You are hers. The ten million times she’s stated that haven’t gone over your head.

She tugged you into her front, back to your thighs. One of her hands wrapped around your throat, the other still holding onto yours. At first, you tensed up, despising being put in front of Dwainet like this. “You lost this. You disowned this. You are dishonorable,” she said in a calm manner and ran her thumb along the side of your neck, feeling along your artery. One false move could have you bleeding out.

His grey eyes rolled in dismissal. “I could less about the soft meat.” A heavy insult in the eyes of Yautjas. “It was useless, barely good enough to warm a bed. But it could not reproduce. It has no use.”

With her hand around your neck, she kept you face forward, forcing you gaze upon Dwainet. Tears desperately crawled to the surface before you steeled them away at the last second and growled.

“I can’t wait to watch her rip you apart,” you snarled at him. Fresh, hot tears spilling down from hurt and anger this time. “It was I who had her spare you. I will not ask for that again. A mistake that’s about to be righted.” Your teeth were bared at him. The only free hand clenched into a fist, as if you could swing and hurt him in the slightest.

Behind you, We’ar-ow offered a short purr, still stroking over your artery. “A fiery spirt you have lost, Dwainet. This ooman will watch as this clan thrives.” Her hand slipped from yours and rested on your shoulder. You were effectively pinned to her, not that you would want to escape anyhow. “The empty sockets of your skull will only watch the happiness your ex-mate brings me.”

At first, you tensed up at the fact she used ‘ex-mate’ instead of pet. Your eyes flicked up to find her gazing down at you. You were fucked.

He scoffed and waved you off. “Whatever. You’re the one outnumbered, outmatched, and out skilled on your own accord. You’re going to go down worse than the last Monarch.”

“One week.” With that stated, We’ar-ow guided you to turn and began to march out. No one dared to even poke an inch through the bars of the cage to reach for you. A lesson for the troublesome group: don’t mess with the Monarch’s ooman.

#yautja #yautja x reader #predator #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x human #predator x you #x reader #The Monarch #We'ar-ow