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alphonseelriic · 1 year

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Hi Sofia! ❤️ How is it going? Sorry I'm a little late! So much to do and so tired recently 🥲

Hope you enjoyed a bit of your free time!! When are you done done with finals? 👀

Gonna confess, Im a glutton for food so always happy to hear people talk about their fav food too 😆. I know pannettone!! But I've only tried the Italian version, not sure how different they are (but I'm also sure the homemade ones are always the best!). Do you cook/bake too? :O I love empanadas too but I think I only know the fried ones! I had to Google the other two, BUT Locro looks so hearty to have omg and the alfajores looks so soft and good?! I wanna try them! 🤤 Just talking about it makes me so hungry right now... I do hope you'll get to eat all your favs this holiday season!!

Hmm I like a lot of different food too! And trying different countries food is always exciting to me so I like a little of everything. My favs is usually Japanese dishes or asian ones but specifically—I LOVE duck (the chinese ones in particular but also the seared foie gras), grilled meat 😅, sushi, udon (noodles are usually always a win), korean fried chicken or karaage. Randomly, I also like al pastor tacos, a good sandwich (roast beef is my go to ^^ ), samosas, hot pot, most potato things, cheese in general esp. gouda or goat!... I'll stop now hahaha. Btw do you have any favorite drinks?

Aww Im glad you enjoyed getting to where you are now! Asjdkkdd I'm not sure if my field fits me, there's definitely times I question it but it's what I do for now 😂😭.

The books—I'm familiar with the first few (jane austen books we had to read those in school!) but not the rest so I'll have to look it up sometime!! I had no ides howls moving castle was also a book! I'm sad to hear reading for uni took away reading for fun 😭. I honestly haven't picked up a book in ages so I feel this tho. These days I just read fanfics, I wonder if you were ever into those? 👀

Ahhh please!! I too love a lot of the scenes you picked as a fav! OMG AL 😭 you make me want to do a rewatch again of fmab...and the train scene with ed/winry and that line he says totally has my heart. AND THE MOB PARTS!! When the OST came on for both of those scenes? It was the most perfect beautiful ones and that song is one of my favs! That's when I knew I /loved Mp100 haha. HQ ahh so many good moments right...hinata growing is always so heartwarming, but so are the rest of them 😭. Honestly I want to rewatch hq like at least every year LOL... the sxf ones too, I love bond and I didn't expect to love Damien but it's growing. You picked such great favs ahh, let's see what Santa can do with those. 😉

Btw I haven't mentioned this yet, but went through your edits and you have such pleasant sets. So I want to ask! Do you have a favorite kind of style either that others make or that you lean towards? What inspires you to create?

Thank you for indulging me again and talk soon!!

- Animanga 🎅

So nice to see you again, secret santa ❤️ please don't apologize!! I hope you're doing well despite everything you need to do :')

My last final was the 6th, so I'm already on vacations for a while! I'm actually with my family at the beach rn hahahaha

Heh I totally get you! I honestly have no idea if there's a difference between italian panettone and the one we eat here 🤔 Empanadas can be either fried or oven baked!! They have a lot of variations between each southamerican country, in places like Colombia for example they always eat them fried, but here it's more common to have them baked as far as I know! Yeah locro is really comforting, carefully crafted to eat during winter >:) the tradition is eating it on may 25th, one of our two patriotic dates. Alfajores are heavenly!! I'm pretty sure they aren't very easy to find in other countries but if you ever stumble upon them and you're craving something sweet, I couldn't recommend them enough!

My mom is a baker that works from home (studied it professionally and all) but I admit I'm not much of a baker/cook myself 😅 I do enjoy cooking and if I'm given a detailed recipe there's a good chance I'll do mostly good, but for some reason I'm not very drawn to the kitchen. I do want to start cooking more tho, I just don't have much initiative. What about you?

Ooohh I think I've never tried duck now that I think about it 🤔 I want to try it now!! I haven't had the chance to try a big amount of asian dishes but I loved the ones I did try <3 i also love sushi and noodles!! Ohh korean fried chicken sounds delicious! I went to a korean food fair a few weeks ago with some friends and my favorite were the tteokbokki and the bulgogi 🤤

Oh I also adore tacos and anything with potato and cheese in it LMAOOO honestly idk if i have favorite drinks, I mostly like cappuccino and hot cocoa. When it comes to cold drinks, I'm fine with water or diet coke. I also like freshly squeezed orange juice 🧡

Oh you read Jane Austen for school?? Lucky you! We didn't read anything remotely similar in my high school, and then in uni my english literature teacher didn't like her books so we didn't read them 😭 I ended up reading pride and prejudice for another completely different class later on, and now I'm reading sense and sensibility by myself!

Oh I do read some fanfics from time to time, but definitely not with the consistency most people on fandoms do. Once in a blue moon I get obsessed with a character or a ship during like one evening and then spend the rest of the night searching for fanfics. I have bad luck at finding ones that actually catch my attention so I don't do it often.

HAHAHA I'm glad you liked the scenes I chose! Resisting the temptation to rewatch fmab is a constant struggle really 😖 same for Haikyuu! Oh yeah mob's soundtrack also takes the cake, wouldn't be the same without it 💕 Damien also grew a lot in me! His crush on Anya is so adorable. Can't wait to see what Santa does ;)

Awww thank you! My edits mean a lot to me so I'm very happy you like them 🥹 ohh that's such a hard question!! I find all editing styles or technics to be great on their own right, but I personally lend more towards gifs and graphics with soft colors, with subtle patterns and textures, carefully put together quotes and well placed panels! Maybe my explanation is a bit abstract so these are some examples:

https://at.tumblr.com/alphonseelriic/romancegifs-romancegifs-10k-followers-celebration/u4wogp3dgfbe

https://at.tumblr.com/alphonseelriic/meqistus-look-at-me-i-will-never-pass-for-a/gbfxrdxw73fz

https://at.tumblr.com/alphonseelriic/mazusu-assassination-its-the-family-trade-we/6o0wy6grzd58

https://at.tumblr.com/alphonseelriic/suzouyas-grand-king-oikawa-tooru-%E5%8F%8A%E5%B7%9D-%E5%BE%B9-for/891elmqmjv49

Obviously this doesn't mean I don't like sets with stronger or vibrant colors!! As long as there's harmony between them, any color combos will be great :') I also love gifsets with big, clear and crispy gifs! You see a lot of them now that tumblr has updated their size limit lol

What inspires me to create is mostly the process, which I usually enjoy a lot (unless I'm creatively stuck, then not so much hahaha). I also love looking at other's creations and seeing if I can make something as beautiful! The challenges from animangacreators are also very helpful when I wanna make something and I don't know what ;)

That was a very nice talk!! See you again soon, my santa ❤️

#asks #secretsanta2022

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arrozaurus · 3 years

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IM LOSING MY MIND OVER THIS DRAWING I FORGOT I DREW

#rose quartz #greg universe #gregrose #steven universe #my art #sorry im trying to look for examples for an ask and i stumbled upon this oh god i have so much shit

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wincore · 4 years

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vixen | nakamoto yuta

pairing: kitsune!yuta x female!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: every year, you visit the fox who claims to know everything about you.

genre: fantasy/folklore, fluff, angst(?)

warnings: suggestive, mention of past bullying, one excessively flirty nakamoto yuta

song rec(s): clear and sunny - sou (cover)

a/n: this is for all you furries who aren’t quite furries yet muah (im joking) but aaaa love exploring folklore and also i should put in a disclaimer that not every aspect adheres to the original tales of the kitsune <3 i did not proofread btw and i am very sorry

Some things never change.

Examples: boys, shitty friends, death, and the scent of nostalgia. To you, that very scent happens to be the earthy smell of chrysanthemums and a faint waft of spices from the kitchen in your parents’ house. To you, October is not just another month. To you, there is one more thing that never changes and it is not your belief in old ghost stories.

Around this time of the year, the autumn festival begins in a flurry of vibrant red smudges and a whiff of excitement, in streets suddenly brought alive. The skies are candied orange, and it’s the only time you aren’t tired of home. This time is also when you find yourself right in the clutches of the one demon you swore you’d avoid for the rest of your life. You swore. It’s not your fault that said demon is a little, let’s say, tempting.

Tempting in the most vexing, infuriating way possible. Bewitching, cruel, seducing—all that foxes are and all that you’ve heard of them could not have prepared you for an encounter. Folklore runs deep through you. The memories of a certain fox-boy run deeper.

It is not the festival you are here for.

You yawn, leaning against the wooden door frame of the shop. It would be inappropriate to fall asleep on the job, especially since there are a bunch of children staring idly at you. You close your mouth quickly, resting the back of your hand against your lips. Late afternoon is an easy time to fall asleep. You have half the mind to snarl at the kids to scare them off, their gaze getting on your nerves and when you think you will, you turn the other way. Manners come first to you, no matter how temperamental you get.

The procession has gathered a crowd. Some shouts and squeals from the children make you slump further. At least they’re having fun with whatever stupid game they’re playing. You breathe in the autumn air. A part of you wonders if you simply let your feet lead you down the stairs, you’d be free of this entire ordeal. You shake your head. Temptation has always been hard to resist—never meant to be resisted but you’re much older now. There is dignity to be answered.

October is mild—your grandmother’s shop is still on the verge of collapse, your mother still yells at you for misplacing kitchen utensils and your old friends from school still gossip about who you’re dating. It’s like the script never changes; people change the meaning, twist their words in the same old pattern. If you were a little less behaved, you would have poured your drink over their heads yesterday.

You clench your jaw. It’s always an ‘Oh, you’re so attractive’ and an ‘I wish I could date as many men as you do but I’m loyal to my boyfriend’, or even a ‘Must be nice being surrounded by boys all the time’. You know what they mean. It’s not the first time you’ve been called a fox, and you don’t think it’ll be the last—at least until you decide to stop letting your hometown suffocate you. Maybe you’ll accept what they say. You have heard of what hatred left unchecked can do.

If you’re honest, you haven’t been with too many men. If you’re a little more honest, none of them have ever made your heart race.

You watch the children play with a keen eye, their painted masks ridiculously large for their faces and in brightly coloured clothes contrasting well with the town. You might not be allowed to fall asleep, but there’s nothing against closing your eyes for a second or two.

The image of glinting yellow eyes and a fanged smile pop up and you quickly open your eyes. You don’t know why your heart beats so loud at the mere thought of him, thoughts in which his lips are full and painted red, and his bright smile is stretched upon them. Sometimes, the thought of him is in gentle washes, his hand fixing your hair, or a flirty smile when you dare stumble upon him on a particularly sleepless night. You shake your head to get rid of the thought. That is not love. Some sort of embarrassing attraction, maybe. However, the friendship you have is worse.

“I see you’re a slacker as always.”

Your grandmother’s voice breaks you out of your cycle of thoughts and you’re almost grateful.

“I sold approximately zero sweets,” you snort. “Why can’t we just do away with the shop?”

“You’re starting to sound like your mother,” your grandma calls from behind one of the counters, distaste ringing clear in her voice.

You sigh. “Fine, but… you work way too hard to make these for them to not sell.”

“Maybe they would sell if a certain little lady would stay and help.”

You groan, leaning your head back. “You know I have work in the city.”

Your grandmother waves her hand about, dismissing your reasoning. She fiddles around in the shadows for a bit before coming forward with more boxes than she should be able to hold.

“You don’t have to feel too guilty. Yuta’s been helping out,” your grandmother informs fondly. “You could learn a thing or two from him.”

You’re not the superstitious sort and yet still, your heart beats faster. For him, or for the bad omens foxes bring to a household—you don’t know.

You scoff instead. “He’s not as great a guy as you think, grandma. He can be really mean too!”

“Oh, I doubt that. Have you seen his smile? Impossible.” Your grandmother waves it off before drawing nearer, voice hushed without reason. “Have you thought about it then? He is handsome, isn’t he?”

“Grandma.”

You’re not sure what old women go through in their youth that makes them something of a matchmaker in their later years. You think the whole ordeal is messed up. There is no way you’re going to stick your nose into your grandchildren’s love life; it’s gross.

“These should be enough for the children, no?” Your grandmother asks and you look up.

“You’re giving them away for free?” you question, furrowing your eyebrows. “And you talk about bad business.”

She places her hand on her hip, pointing an accusatory finger. “You’re going to lecture your grandmother?”

You raise your hands up in defeat, standing up to help her with the red boxes of acorn candy and paper wraps of roasted chestnuts. You end up with the entire load in your arms, your grandmother happily shuffling about as she locks up the store.

You turn sharply at the surprised sound behind you. The evening has settled in and glowing lanterns bring forward the evidence, the darkening streets flooding with round droplets of light.

But it is not the festival you are looking at.

Yuta looks somewhat serene, your cheeks heating up despite yourself. You look at him with bated breath, hoping the boxes obscure your face enough to make the vaguely positive emotions less evident. The dark red jacket draped over his shoulder does not look out of place—in fact, he fits in so well you would’ve mistaken him for another face in the crowd if he weren’t stupidly gorgeous. He looks at you with no strong emotion in the eyes before breaking into a smile; and when his hand strokes the top of your head as a greeting, he seems fond. He always does.

“Grandma,” he calls with his best smile, turning to the old woman.

Your grandmother doesn’t need any more convincing of his character.

“Oh, there you are! Did I tell you (name)’s back? I wanted to break the news to you earlier. Ah…I must have forgotten.”

You glance from Yuta to her. Is this another one of her tricks and tests?

“She’s always here this time of the year,” he responds, laughing politely.

“Ah, you remembered,” she says, eyes crescent as she smiles back. “Help her with the boxes. The city has made her so frail.”

“I’m good,” you choke on the words, hurriedly moving away and almost dropping one of the boxes.

You slip on your sandals and scurry off faster, wishing he’d just stay behind. He always has. The air makes you shiver but you’re adamant; and it’s not the only trait of yours to make relationships fail.

“You know, you should be nicer to old friends.”

You try not to react when Yuta takes the boxes from you, matching your pace almost effortlessly.

“I thought foxes ran away once they’re found out,” you snap, reluctantly letting him take the packages.

Yuta rolls his eyes. “I see you still aren’t very fond of me.”

“Not when you’re tricking my grandmother like this,” you hiss.

“You call helping trickery?” he retaliates.

“Foxes bring bad business,” you mutter.

“I’m the reason your grandmother’s business is somewhat above the water.”

You sigh, exasperated. There’s no point in wasting your breath. You look away, crossing your arms as you walk, the silence between the two of you suddenly awkward. Even so, you’re not going to open your mouth for him.

“Would you two slow down?” your grandmother calls, voice weary. “We’re already there.”

The two of you halt in your tracks immediately, taking mellow steps back to her. She looks over the two of you with furrowed eyebrows and you try to think of an explanation when she starts laughing.

“Oh, I don’t mind the two of you flirting,” she says, littered with slow laughter. “Just make sure the food is where it’s supposed to be.”

You’re about to refute when Yuta laughs, the sound still boyish and lively. “Of course. (name) missed me so much this year, she couldn’t help herself.”

You give him a pointed look which he ignores, deliberately or not. “We- I wasn’t—”

“Grandmother, if you’ll give us permission,” he interrupts, settling the packages on the table by the food stall and smiling wide. “We’ll go enjoy the festival now.”

She bobs her head in affirmation and Yuta grabs your hand to pull you into the bustling street, your silent plea for help ignored by your smug grandmother.

“What are you doing?” you ask, slipping your hand from his. “You aren’t- You aren’t trying to eat my liver, are you?”

“Why the liver? Can’t I have the rest of you too?”

It’s not like you were particularly alarmed but his response makes you feel a flush of embarrassment.

“It’s been a year since I last saw you,” he says before his voice turns a shade cooler. “Have you thought about my proposal?”

You fall silent. The overthinking started last year too. Your thoughts and dreams, so easily pervaded by him and all it took was one sentence.

“We should get married.”

“Why did you even think I’d agree to that?” You try not to get too flustered. He knows all your petty weaknesses and you’d rather not have them on display for him to stare and pick at. “What the fuck would I get out of marrying you?”

Yuta whistles. “I like your tongue. But—yes, to answer your question, you’d get a very handsome and capable husband. Your bed will always be warm and oh, speaking of beds—”

You clamp your hand over his mouth at the suggestive look he sends, worried about being spotted by one of your school friends. Ah, right—friends, the very same people that smell of jealousy and won’t miss any opportunity to throw a jab your way. Friends. You can’t believe you’re still afraid of their judgement.

“And why do you want to get married to me?” you ask, looking into his eyes.

There’s a pause, filled with the chatter of the crowd.

“You look like you’re afraid of finding someone,” he speaks finally, ignoring your question. “Or is it the other way around?”

You roll your eyes, ready to walk off when he grabs your wrist to pull you closer to his chest. It draws some looks from nearby people, your eyes darting from face to face in fear. You take a deep breath and look at Yuta again, almond eyes distracting.

“People will think we’re lovers,” you whisper, almost a hiss.

“What’s wrong with that?”

You breathe out in disbelief. “You’re really something.”

“What? Why did you always come to meet me then? Behind the keyaki tree?”

“It wasn’t for you,” you lie quickly. “I had nothing better to do.”

Pining after a fox? You could never have feelings for him. Even so, your answer comes off childish and silly, and somehow he’s the only one to be able to draw that side of you—the you that is messy and unprepared.

Yuta smiles in return. “You think people can’t fall in love with us the same way they fall in love with most everything.”

It’s a statement, not a question.

“How conservative of you,” he leaves with an airy remark, but not before urging you to follow him.

The sizzling sound of food being fried and the knocking, clicking sound of children playing games, all these forgotten sounds grow louder and for a second, if only you let yourself, you could close your eyes and it would be just like your first date.

No. It’s different. You look up, eyes trailing over Yuta’s back, his golden hair, how his figure moves with ease and confidence.

It is different.

You raise an eyebrow at the box of takoyaki Yuta shoves towards you, an expecting look across his face.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asks, an uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice.

You hum in response, taking the box from him and saving yourself the trouble of asking whether he paid for it or simply charmed his way through.

“Eh, no thank you?” he complains. “How polite.”

You scrunch your nose to accompany an exaggerated smile and he laughs, the two of wandering over the asphalt streets. Your hands are close enough to brush—and if a twenty-something year-old woman can feel jittery because of it, hands truly are meant to share warmth. The smell of candy and caramel fills the air, making you smile. You’ve saved enough for the taste of home, you think.

The taste of home.

Inevitably, the thought of kissing your companion crosses your mind and you stop in your tracks. Whatever. It must be natural when someone as attractive is beside you. Those aren’t feelings. You curse yourself for feeling like a teenager again.

The festival grounds aren’t as shabby as you expect them to be. The city,—if you could call this one—stops here and the earth spreads out to the forest behind. The crowd also thins, and you take a fresh breath. They’re selling old books in the corner, but no one seems to be there.

“The raccoon dogs,” Yuta whispers in your ear, with an arcane smile. “Want to visit those rascals?”

You roll your eyes. He knows you’ve heard one too many folktales for a lifetime, seen one too many. It’s time to go home, especially now that the thought of thanking him crosses your mind. You’re about to turn when your shoulder crashes into someone else’s. A surprised, syrupy smile greets you, which you cannot return for the first few moments. Yui’s smile wavers and you flash her a quick smile. A friend. Her arm is looped through her lover’s, the one she never shuts up about and suddenly the urge to pour water over her head returns.

Yuta glances from you to her before pressing his lips together, as if suppressing laughter. You’re almost offended when Yui laughs flippantly.

“You’re on a date too? I knew you couldn’t stand spending the festival alone,” she says, tugging her lover closer.

People have always told you who you are and what you do. As if they know better.

You smile awkwardly. “It’s… actually not—”

“Oh, don’t be shy.” She gently pats your shoulder before leaning in. “He’s a real catch. As expected from you. You can never leave the boys alone.”

You know what she really means. You’ve heard the same words in high school when she was shoving you into a wall behind the school. The sickening smile is still on her face.

You gulp, feeling sixteen again. The lack of people around somehow makes it more awkward and you’re about to excuse yourself when suddenly, Yuta bumps into Yui and his warm drink spills over her left shoulder. Your eyes widen, more in confusion. When did he leave? You don’t doubt his ability to sneak past people, but surely you couldn’t have been so enraptured in your own feelings that you barely noticed.

“I’m so sorry,” Yuta says, voice honeyed with surprise.

Yui looks like she’s about to explode when she looks at him, her expression dropping to a calmer one almost immediately.

It’s an easy look to recognize. They always have it when they first meet Yuta, whether it’s the smile that’s too dazzling or the pretty round eyes.

How persuasive, those eyes.

“Ah… I must have not seen you,” she says faintly, and Yuta’s smile widens.

Before he can stir up more trouble, you slip your arm into his and pull him away, not caring for another polite apology to an old, almost nameless face.

“I was having fun,” Yuta complains, voice still smug and calm.

You glare at him and it only seems to add fuel to the fire, to whatever cold fire dances at his fingertips.

“You’re happy, right? Don’t look at me like that. You should reward me.”

You don’t respond, looking away and hoping to get at least a word in about how troublesome he is every single time you visit. Yuta has other plans, however. Leaning his head to look you in the eye, he maintains a distance which looks perfectly decent but feels less than so.

“How about a kiss? I deserve one, don’t I?” He moves his head closer to yours, making you shy away.

You grab him by the belt and pretend to not catch a glimpse of the pleased look on his face as you drag him into a secluded part by the forest.

It’s quieter here, so much that you can almost hear your own heart drumming in your chest, and the faint light of the distant festival grounds doesn’t help much at all. It’s dark as dusk, and you can only make out Yuta’s jawline and a faint smirk over his lips. You think that if a fox ever wanted to eat your liver, this would be the perfect spot.

“You did something,” you finally utter the words. “You did something to me.”

“Why do you think I did something? Do you mean love?” he responds with a cheeky smile. “This means you’ve been thinking about me? How cute—”

“Yuta, stop it,” you warn.

“Or what? You should stop me yourself.”

You grab the lapels of his jacket, the cloth bunching as your knuckles turn white. The anger you feel isn’t the first of its kind—it’s just a little funny how it’s always Yuta every time, making you remember the burning feeling time and time again. You find yourself unable to respond.

“Oh, don’t hold back,” he provokes, leaning in.

You push at his chest in exasperation, but he grabs your wrists before you can retract your hands.

“Scared?” he whispers.

You pull apart anyway, a scowl over your lips. “You’re as annoying as ever. Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“Ooh! Sharp claws. You’d be lovely as my fox-bride.” he teases.

Your face flares with heat. “I’m not your… I’m not a fox.”

“I didn’t say a fox, I said—”

“I know what you said,” you snap, massaging your wrist so you don’t have to look at him.

Yuta falls quiet for a moment, voice lower when he speaks again.

“Is it so nasty to be called a fox? There are worse things, you know.”

You scoff, growing increasingly annoyed. “Of course you’d say that. I hate it. I hate this town. I hate foxes and I hate you.”

Yuta places a hand over his chest, gasping with no emotion. Your eyes linger over his long, painted nails a little longer before you meet his eyes. A part of you regrets saying the words but you couldn’t help it. The shroud choking your hometown makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs every time you’re here. You hate this place.

But you don’t hate him, after all.

You try to clear yourself of the thought. A gentle gust of wind brings you back to the present, Yuta still glancing at you with no giveaway to what he’s feeling.

“You wouldn’t make a terrible fox though,” he says, eyes sharp. “Don’t they know you’re a vixen already? How many livers will you eat?”

You suck in a breath, tears stinging at your eyes. However, it’s not like you to get so easily affected by him. No. No, somehow that doesn’t make sense either. Those words do hurt from Yuta and you’re not sure if it’s just because he's the only one you didn’t expect them from.

“You…”

“What? Aren’t you going to lash at me again? You’re so predictable.”

His voice is calm despite your obvious annoyance and you feel flames lick at your heart. Your hand moves before you can think, about to meet his cheek when he grabs your wrist. You struggle, trying to pull free but to no avail and you use the other hand to hit him in the chest. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t bother him and that same feline smile curves up his lips.

You feel something you haven’t before, a warm growl at the pit of your stomach.

You push with all your strength, catching Yuta off guard and he stumbles backward but not before pulling you into him. Consequently, either of you lose footing and land on the grass with a sudden thud, Yuta’s side pressed against yours. His hands still clutch your wrist, and he shifts to hover over you.

“We used to wrestle like this as a litter,” he says, erupting into full laughter. “Ah, memories. I don’t even know if they’re alive or dead now.”

Yuta is much stronger than he looks, and he’s taken your tantrum as a source of amusement much to your infuriation. He has your hands pinned back, eyes unaffected as he scans over your face. You try to shift but there’s just too much weight on you. You breathe slowly, chest rising and falling in time with his. His earrings sway gently in the wind, dangling a few inches above you—he’s pretty, so pretty. Admitting defeat has never been your forte but now that your senses are gathering again, you feel a flush of embarrassment for losing your temper.

Or perhaps, it is something else when you register the lack of distance between your noses.

“Playtime’s over,” Yuta coos. “You’re kinda cute when you’re losing.”

He tilts his head, an adoring smile over his lips. For a moment, they’re all you see.

Can a fox comfort you? Can a fox make you feel loved on the darkest of nights? Your mind races with questions your heart does not want to answer.

Yuta leans in to close the distance and despite every nerve in your body, you turn your head away. You can hear him gulp, the following moments painfully quiet before he gets up. Your breath is soft and shallow, lying on the ground till you get enough courage to sit up.

You almost gasp. His tails are clearer under the dim moonlight, all nine of them golden and luxurious. The light hitting his face isn’t any less flattering and once again you are reminded of how handsome he is, fairytale or not.

Yuta looks uncomfortable, and that’s a first for you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, though you don’t know why.

He waves his hand dismissively, annoyed.

“Yuta,” you take a step forward.

“I see the way you look at me,” he says quietly, “Is it not want?”

You fall silent, biting your lip so you don’t retort violently. He doesn’t look particularly malicious when he says that but you do not want to give him the satisfaction of an answer yet.

He quietens for a moment before a look of curiosity flashes across his features.

“What is it then?” he asks. “Is it a secret? Foxes love secrets. Tell me.”

Despite every bone in your body burning up, you find it in yourself to laugh.

“I don’t think I could keep a secret from you if I tried,” you finally say, before bursting into soft laughter again.

Yuta looks at you puzzled, lips parted while he stands frozen as if he were a painting. A daunting, reckless, heavenly painting.

“It’s not want,” you answer quietly. “It’s more than that. Even if I hated it. I like you.”

Yuta’s ears perk up at your confession. “So- so you admit, then? You are interested?”

“I could blame you for this, you know?” You shrug, hugging yourself once the night starts to feel cold again. Yuta begins to take off his jacket when you stop him, gently pressing your palm against his chest.

“You’re a fox, after all,” you whisper. “Like me. What they think of me.”

Yuta purses his lips. “Does it really hurt you? No, wait. Did they- did they—”

“Now, you tell me,” you cut him off. “Why do you insist on getting married—to me?”

There’s a pause. The crickets chirp a merry tune despite the leisurely darkness of the night.

“You’re not terrible,” he says, nonchalantly.

You glare at him and he raises his hands in defeat. He looks wearier the more you look at him.

“I want to grow old,” he mumbles after a long pause. “Properly.”

You hold your breath.

“And you want to do it with me?”

Another flower blooms in your chest, as if he hasn’t planted a garden in there already. The lights from the festival flicker down, the lanterns burning brighter in the distance. He glances at them for a moment, your eyes still fixated on him.

The tails glow even brighter in the dark, as if gold in broad daylight. You’ve always been curious about him and his kind, all the stories; but he says he’s too old to remember if you ask.

You reach out to touch one of the tails, wondering if the fur is as warm as it looks. They’re pale and captivating, but they look so soft—they shouldn’t belong to an animal so vicious. Is he, though? Is he all that you think he is or have all these years failed you? If anything, he’s quite probably not as much a fox as you are, you think bitterly.

The fur is warm, but the realization is short-lived.

A short growl leaves the corner of his mouth. Yuta glares at you like he was stolen from and yet, you do not move your hand. Some part of you wants to aggravate him further.

“I’m not a pet,” he snaps. “Stop that.”

“You should stop me yourself,” you mimic his voice.

Yuta’s shoulders relax, and he looks down but you can still see the trembling smile on his face. It’s the way he looks at you, you think to yourself, maybe that's the reason after all.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say, feeling warmer than the autumn night should allow.

“Like what?” he asks, still smiling.

You look away.

“You’re not too fox-like, you know?” you mumble. “You’re just annoying. And flirty. And annoying.”

Yuta chuckles, before pressing his palm to the top of your head.

“And you’re lovely.”

You give in to the gesture of affection, leaning your head to press against his shoulder.

“Why do you even do all this? What do you get out of it?” you say, voice muffled. He hears you clearly, however.

“Because I love you,” he responds, as if coming to terms with it himself. “More than you think.”

There is no joke, no flirtation to his tone, no decoration upon his words. It’s plain, and laid bare. And sometimes, simplicity is scariest.

You pull back, lips pulled into a frown. The air is cold once more; the longing for warmth flowing into you. The silence is worse.

“You don't believe foxes can fall in love,” he states softly upon a wavering smile. “I knew that. Of course.”

A part of him believes it too.

“I…” you begin, and for the first time, you are afraid of promises in the name of love. You are the one making them now.

“I’ll believe you,” you whisper, “I’ll believe you so please… please take care of me.”

You place your palm against his cheek, his skin bewitchingly warm.

“Only if you take care of me,” he whispers back, leaning in.

This time, you do not move.

The lovers’ kiss you’d been searching for—lovers’ warmth, lovers’ comfort—all of it comes crashing down once Yuta tightens his arm around your waist, the other hand resting gently at the base of your neck. He kisses with the right amount of pressure, the vague taste of sweet berries in his mouth.

You used to fear his touch, like he would eat you whole; even if they have been gentle, always. This time, you might as well let him. He presses his lips from your cheek to jaw to neck, lingering at each spot enough to make you clutch at his shirt tighter, taking in short gasps of breath. You kiss for a little longer, like time means nothing.

“We should go back,” you whisper, pulling apart.

Yuta kisses you again, the distance unacceptable.

“Yuta—”

He kisses you once more, your calls falling on deaf ears.

Finally, after another long kiss, he pulls apart enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

“It must have been hard for you,” he mumbles.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you scoff.

“Foxes are faithful lovers, you know?” he insists.

You laugh. “What do you mean?”

“It means I’ll follow you everywhere.”

He stands up straight, his thumb stroking your cheek as he bites back a smile.

“I don’t think we should get back tonight,” he suggests all of a sudden. “We could book a hotel. That’s the place you use these days, right? I’m sure your grandmother will understand your absence—”

You groan, resting your forehead against his shoulder and he presents a delighted laugh in return. It is warm by his side; he is warm. You find it easy to forget the failures in love, the loneliness of a lover that isn’t meant to be yours. Folktales are just long tales, after all. You smile to yourself.

You should’ve known—it was the fox all along.

414 notes · View notes

yelenasdog · 4 years

Text

it was a pleasure to burn (spencer reid x fem bau!reader)

genre: fluff i think even though the name is v angsty LOL it’s a literal screenplay with the amout of dialogue i wrote LMAO so idk

summary: a particularly rough and disturbing case gets to reader, and spencer and reader are brought together by this.

words: just about 6k (my longest fic ahhHH)

warnings: typical criminal minds gore and violence just up a notch, they get on a plane at the end, somebody gets ~shot~, somebody gets ~bonked~, cursing, mentions of reid’s addiction, and i think that’s it. also the reader wears reading glasses but that’s the only predetermined factor of appearance. btw i don’t think i used any pronouns in this but i apologize if i’m wrong.

a/n: LMFAO i was outside awhile ago celebrating litha with a nice lil hike and i saw a butterfly and i had just started watching cm and was like hMMm... killer who’s obsessed with symmetry??!1??!? y Es. enjoy 😼 EDIT: THERE IS SO MANY PLOT HOLES OMG FBREHJBFHEJFRE IM RBFBRE

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“Aren’t they just stunning?” The unsub spoke, keeping her eyes trained on the butterfly sitting happily on her finger. The brightly colored creature fluttered off her hand that was dripping scarlet, flying around her curly head of brown hair. Her, formerly white, blood-stained dress flowed around her as she followed it, watching in awe as it soared about. She giggled, plopping down on the grass in the middle of a circle of her victim’s pale, lifeless bodies, all of them with ironically morbid butterflies resting upon the frail skin of the corpses.

“Aren’t they, agents?”

She slanted her green eyes, gripping the grass a little harder. I flicked my tongue over my lips nervously, looking over to the lanky man on my left. He simply shrugged, just about as sure of how to handle the situation just as much as I was.

“If I knew you all were coming, I would have cleaned up, I really would have, I promise.”

We slowly walked towards her, twigs and leaves crunching under our feet. It could have been comparable to a hunter stalking its prey, but it unfortunately was quite the opposite.

6 days earlier, Quantico, Virginia

“3 bodies, all found within the last 48 hours in rural New York. So far, the first body has revealed that although it was dumped upstate, the victim was murdered in the city, and the same most likely goes for the other bodies as well. Nails well manicured, no drugs in the system. They aren't junkies, we’re dealing with upper class citizens.”

My face contorted as I took the photos from Reid’s hands, his large and tanned one surprising me by how soft it felt as it accidentally brushed against mine. I blushed like a madman, looking to see him doing the same thing. I cleared my throat getting Rossi’s attention.

“Why are we only now hearing of this?” I questioned, flipping through the images as I did so, my confusion only growing. I didn’t recieve an answer, leaving my curiosity to bloom.

“Wait, how did you say they were killed again?”

Morgan looked up, taking the photos from me. “He didn’t.”

I sighed, pushing my glasses up on my nose.

“Is there at least any correlation between the bodies and the butterflies?”

Our attention was shifted to JJ, the resident expert on the insects.

“Actually, the ones being found with the bodies are from the Amarynthis family, all native to Latin America. They weren’t there by accident so yes, they’re somehow related.”

Rossi stood up, grabbing his coat.

“Well, none of this is nearly enough for a profile, so pack your bags and tell the others, wheels up in an hour. We’re headed to New York.”

4 days earlier, F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York

“The final report from the latest victim is in, all the autopsies are clean. They show no signs of struggles, no marks, no blood, no anything. The eyes weren’t bloodshot, so suffocation is ruled out, and that was our best bet.”

I sighed, sliding the case file across the glass table to Spence as I took my seat, sinking into it and allowing myself to be consumed by its warmth.

“So what your saying is that we’re back at square one.”

I looked up at Hotch from where I sat, running my hand through my ponytail.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.”

Just then, the young Doctor spoke up as he flipped through the pages.

“The eyes weren’t just not bloodshot, there was barely any blood left in any of the victims bodies, only about 3% of the volume left. The killer drained them.”

Morgan gave me a shocked expression, silently asking for an explanation.

“Which you failed to mention, Y/n.” Aaron spoke, agitation once again present in his voice.

I looked at the ceiling, crossing my arms in front of me before turning to face Hotch once more.

“Yeah, well, I thought it was obvious when I said no blood.” I stuttered out cautiously.

“On the bodies! Not in the bodies!” Morgan exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in what was in my opinion, very childish. Everyone else in the room aside from Spencer was either shaking their heads or pinching the bridge of their noses, and reasonably so.

“Look, I’m sorry I just didn’t see it in the report, plus, In the scheme of things, it just doesn’t seem to matter.”

I soon regretted my words, realizing how ill-fit they were for the current conversation I was having. Spencer looked up, tilting his head.

“Doesn’t seem to matter? How? There’s an endless amount of possibilities now that we know this. If we had known it sooner we probably could have figured out the pattern and caught the one doing this!” He harshly spewed, his voice acting like a crescendo of sorts, quiet and calm and moving towards a loud and violent tone. Tears began to prick at the corners of my eyes and I was starting to feel guilty, not to mention absolutely stupid as could be.

“I’m- I really am sorry guys, truly.”

Hotch locked eyes with me, taking a stern tone that one would usually take with a disobedient child, perhaps even Jack.

“I hope that’s a comfort to you when another body shows up. That’s their blood on your hands.”

I was frozen, the gravity of the situation taking its toll.

In the background I heard him say something to Morgan about a new profile having to be made as there were many new things to be known from this revelation. But it all went in one ear and out the other, just unpleasant white noise.

As I clumsily stumbled out of the room, I felt Reid’s eyes burning holes into the back of my brain. I was quick to turn my head to meet his glance, causing him to look down. I felt bad, the weight on my chest growing heavier from the interaction.

I sat down at my desk, turning on my computer and immediately going to google. I typed in “hypnosis” and let the info trickle in.

About 30 minutes later, I still felt absolutely horrible, but I had also put together a valuable profile in the time that had passed. I shut the newly finished file, blowing an abandoned strand of hair out from my eyes. I had to do a double take when I saw Spencer staring once more, his deep hazel eyes meeting my own. I gave him a small smile before standing up and walking to Hotch’s makeshift New York office. I pushed open the heavy door, placing the folder on his too-clean desk.

“What’s this?” He asked, taking it in his hands.

“My theory about the unsub. I think I know what she’s been doing. You can tell the team if you want, I’m not sure if they would wanna hear it from me. ”

He gave a small smile, pushing the file back over to me.

“You get the team together and I’ll get the local PD caught up. You tell them yourself.”

A few minutes later, everyone except for Reid had gathered in the meeting room. I peeked through the half closed blinds that allowed a line of vision to his desk in an attempt to locate him. He was positioned there, staring blankly at his laptop that appeared to have nothing on the screen. I knocked on the window lightly to catch his attention, his glazed over eyes looking in my direction. I tilted my head at him, silently beckoning him to join me. He only shook his in response, shaggy brown locks swaying back and forth. I sighed, frowning at his action. I turned to the group, clasping my hands in front of me.

“Everyone, this will just be a second if you’ll excuse me.”

With a raised eyebrow from Hotchner and a jab in the direction of Spencer’s workspace, I swiftly walked out of the crowded room.

“Spence, care to join us?” I asked, resting one of my hands against my hip, the other on his orderly desk.

“No, I don’t think I will. I need to try to figure this out before she finds her next victim.”

“What makes you think the unsub is a she?” I searched his eyes that had seemingly become brighter at my piqued interest in his hypothesis.

“Well, the unsub seems to be obsessed with symmetry, all the bodies being found in obscure yet symmetrical positions. This could suggest she had some sort of deep rooted insecurity, possibly from some sort of bullying from growing up in a small town where she was looked at as a superior for subpar looks. She moved to the big city, expecting a big break. Instead she was shunned for being less than average. She grew frustrated and as a result, she began her killing spree. The stresser could have been one too many insults that made her snap. Plus, that would account for the butterflies left on the scenes that are used in modern examples of both femininity and symmetry.”

I smiled widely at his words.

“What- why are you smiling, what are you smiling at?”

I tapped his desk, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth. I headed back towards the conference room, looking over my shoulder.

“Because, I’m glad we’re on the same page, Dr.”

——————

“So, our girl, as Dr. Reid has explained to us, is obsessed with her appearance. She’s an organized killer, no mistakes and no signs of blood or anything of the sort on scene. She has practice, she does this sort of thing every day. She is most likely in the age group of 23-30, and has a job in the cosmetic industry, our guess is in plastic surgery. She probably volunteers weekends at local butterfly sanctuaries or zoos, finding comfort in their perfection that those in her life, or formerly in her life, cannot and could not provide.”

“Which would explain to her easy access to non-native species of the insects. She has an absolute infatuation with symmetry, which yet again, links the butterflies on the crime scene to her MO.”

Spencer and I were vividly explaining our shared theory to the team, as well as local law enforcement. He was excited by his discovery and the lead on the killer, and his energy was contagious.

“She kills without remorse and out of jealousy, picking victims who all have one thing in common.”

Spence pointed to all of the images pasted on the board in the center of the room, all of them split in half and reflected, creating a perfect mirrored portrait.

“They all have perfectly symmetrical faces, as well as strong jawlines and high cheekbones. As most of these victims are models or those searching to start a modeling career, we believe she is luring them in with a photographer trope, promising to make their dreams come true.”

I nodded, taking a moment to study Reid’s own sharp yet somehow soft features. I allowed my eyes to wander over his sunken in, kind, and curious eyes; his pillowy pink lips that are in dire need of some chapstick.

“Agent?”

I turned my head, snapped back to reality by Rossi calling my name.

I gave a tight and quick smile, returning to the topic at hand and tactics to catch the unsub. But of course not before Emily gave me a crooked smile, resulting in me rolling my eyes.

“Physically, she’s nothing special, most likely a mundane appearance or one with quite obvious surgical changes. No in between. Check all of the plastic surgeon offices in the area for both employees who fit our description, as well as a patient who has gotten any serious facial mod operations. Do the same for any weekend volunteers at local zoos and animal sanctuaries, specifically working with any insects.”

It was an NYPD officer then that spoke up this time, raising her hand briefly.

“But, you still haven’t mentioned how she’s killing them?”

“Hypnosis.” Reid and I both spoke at the same time. He looked to his black Converse, sliding his hands into his pockets. I observed the room and all of the skeptical faces filling it.

“Even if it may sound far fetched, we saw no signs of anything that indicated a struggle or even any marks or wounds. This led us to believe that some form of hypnosis was used to allow her an easy kill. This means extra caution will have to be taken when actually handling the unsub. Even though we’re positive she’s using hypnosis, which method she is using to actually kill them after the fact is what we’re unsure of.”

I turned to Spencer, handing off the explanation to him.

“We think that because of her whole thing with symmetry, she wouldn’t want to disturb the natural state of the victims and their faces, even if she would do the same to her own.”

“Which means?” JJ asked, her blue eyes slanted and glossed lips left ajar.

“It means that the unsub wouldn’t want to leave any large marks like stab or gunshot wounds.” I nodded at Prentiss, who had made the assumption, confirming she was correct.

“With her presumed background in plastic surgery, we believe she was able to make small incisions that made no visible scars. We’re having the coroner look back over the bodies as we speak.”

“She drains the body’s blood 97% of the way before closing the holes up. What she does with the blood, we don’t know. Another Eddie Mays, perhaps.”

I looked over to Spencer, raising my brows at his comparison. He was quick to defend himself, shaking his hands left to right and mouthing “No” while simultaneously shaking his head the same way, something he seemed to be doing often as of late.

After we had finished consulting with any officers who had remaining questions, we branched off to conduct our own routine investigations. We found that the only thing they all had in common apart from the symmetrical faces, is that they all had visited the Central Park Zoo in the 24 hours before they were killed. We received a phone call from Garcia not long after we put together those pieces, being alerted that there was one girl who had, in her words, “Hit every mark there was to hit, sunshine.”

“Her name is Alessia Copelas, she works weekdays as a surgeon's assistant at Premier Cosmetic, and weekends at Central Park Zoo from 4-8 p.m.”

I smiled at the new info from the blonde bombshell known as Penelope, turning to Reid who was still looking at me quizzically.

“Alright, thanks babes, you’re the best.” I spoke into the phone, a comical “Mwah!” made from either side as we hung up.

He shook his head, keeping the odd look on his face.

“I swear, you guys have a weirder relationship than her and Morgan.”

I laughed, sliding my phone into my back pocket.

“Oh, please, Spence.” I gingerly placed a hand on his cheek, patting it twice.

“You’re just jealous.” I made a pouty face, letting my hand linger before walking off. “Come on, we’re going on a field trip.”

“Where to?” He asked, gripping the door frame, using it as leverage to swing himself closer to me. He took long and quick strides, catching up to me in no time.

“You like animals, right?”

———————

4 Days Earlier, Central Park Zoo, New York

As soon as we entered the zoo, our ears were filled with the sounds of the loud screeches of birds and monkeys alike. Reid covered his ears, cringing and making his displeasure known with an “Ahh!”

I smiled at his geeky behavior, admiring the animals in the enclosures. I paid special attention to a particularly impressive species of tarantula, leaning down to admire them. A few moments later I looked to my left and saw Spencer doing the same thing.

“Did you know that arachnids have asthma which is why they don’t run for extended periods of time, similarly to cheetahs?”

“Yes I did.”

His face scrunched up in an adorable manner, causing an involuntary giggle to fall past my lips.

“Well did you know that-“

“Ma’am?”

I turned to see a young woman with flaming red hair and a freckled face smiling at me, her green collared uniform top complimenting her eyes of a different shade wonderfully.

“Oh, hi, I’m Agent Y/l/n and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

Her expression shifted to a more confused one, her smile not leaving her face.

“What can I do for you two?”

“Is there an Alessia Copelas that works here, maybe volunteers on the weekends?” Spencer asked, his puppy dog eyes immediately warranting a response.

“Yeah, she volunteers here, she seems nice. Is she helping with an investigation?”

“Well we think that she may have some part in a series of murders.”

Her smile disappeared this time, turning into a cement frown as panic flooded her body.

“Oh God, was she- Is she a killer? Have I been working with a killer for all this time? I mean, I never had any shifts with her but from what I heard I thought she was so sweet-“

“Look,”

Reid glanced down to her name tag that read “Lillian” before meeting her eyes. His tongue darted out, licking his lips, a nervous habit of his I’d picked up on.

“Lillian, we aren’t sure if she’s the killer we just needed to get a feel on her and get some information regarding her personal life.”

She started frantically nodding her head, more trying to convince herself she was okay rather than ourselves. I looked over her shoulder at some exhibits, thinking to myself how this would end up being a waste of our time if this poor girl couldn’t get a grip on herself.

I was soon proven wrong when I looked over to see a young girl wearing an identical uniform to Lillian, probably somewhere between 23 and 24. She had untamed chocolate locks with bangs that stopped just above the shoulder, blemishes covering her T-Zone, and a rounded face to go with it.

The cherry on top? Under her arm she carried a small enclosure with what appeared to be amarynthis meneria, the same butterflies found on the victims.

I tapped Reid on the shoulder once as discreetly as possible, catching his attention. I heard him mutter a small “Oh God” before he told Lillian to walk away calmly and quickly. She ignored his request, turning to look at Alessia, letting out a blood curdling scream and sprinting the other direction.

“Shit.” I cursed, beginning to walk towards Alessia, Spencer by my side. I smiled at her, trying to appear friendly. Reid spoke up as we got closer.

“Hello, do you by any chance-“

wham!

“Spence!” I exclaimed, reaching down to help him up from where he had fallen from being whacked by the 4’2 pyscho that was Alessia Copelas.

“Did she get away?”

I turned to see her gone, the only sign she was even here being the forming bruise on the Dr’s face.

“Yeah. She did. I’m sorry, Reid, that was really stupid of me.” He shook his head, running his own hand over the raw skin.

“It’s fine, I would have done the same for you.” He looked up, and I wasn’t sure if it was my school-girl esque crush on him or the fact I just had another experience with a serial killer, but my heart was racing nonetheless.

————————

F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York, 1 Day Earlier

The stress levels in the room were high.

Despite our best efforts, several more bodies had been found, New York’s narcissists were in a state of panic, and the spirits of the BAU were down to say the least.

“What? Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed, looking at Hotch in disbelief.

He rolled his chocolate eyes, fanning the folder containing the new information we had gathered on Alessia.

“I wish I was, Y/n. She’s off the grid completely, her apartment is empty, phone and credit cards have been deactivated, and the surgeon’s office hasn’t heard from her for 5 days. And the media has decided to give her the name ‘Butterfly Baron’, so she’s probably been fueled even further. We need a new lead before she strikes again.”

I scoffed, standing up and pushing my chair away.

“This is unbelievable. How many times do we have to reinforce the idea to local PD! Especially when the unsub is a self absorbed psycho, do not give them a name! God, I really cannot fathom this.”

I reached up, letting my hair down from where I had messily thrown it up upon my arrival to work that morning.

I stormed out of the room, my heels clicking behind me. I ignored Hotch’s calling of my name, making my way to the closest restroom.

I went in, locking the door behind him. I ran my hands through my roots, tugging just enough to where it hurt.

Turning the water to the left all the way, I splashed it from the stream leaving the faucet on to my face. I scratched my fingernails against the skin, wiping away the tears that had escaped.

“This is all your fault, y/n.” I whispered at myself in the mirror, doing my absolute best to engrain the message in my brain. I had my head hung in shame when a knock rang out.

“Y/n?”

It was Spencer. My mind started going a million miles a minute, thinking about why he could be there. With my voice raised a few octaves, I tried to scrape up a response.

“I’ll be out in a few, Spence.”

It was quiet for a split second, leaving me to foolishly dance around the idea that he had left me to wallow in my sorrowful thoughts.

“Y/n, Hotch wanted me to check on you. Are you ok?”

My heart slightly sank at the idea that he might’ve just come to check on me because he himself was worried. I discarded the thought, bringing myself back.

“Y/n can you please answer me? If you don’t open the door I’m gonna send in JJ or Emily.”

I sighed, wiping under my eyes where my mascara had smudged, begrudgingly walking over to the door. Just as my hand landed on the silver handle, his voice that was constantly playing in my head echoed out once more.

“Y/n, please? I need to know you’re okay. I’ll come in there myself.”

A soft smirk graced my face as I turned the handle to reveal a worried looking Spencer.

“Y/n, oh God, you had me worried.”

He was quiet when he spoke and his hair looked messy, like he had been running his slender fingers through it in a stress filled state.

I sniffled, attempting to still keep back tears that were still threatening to spill.

“I’m alright, Spencer. Really, I’m fine.”

He gave me a small smile, his eyes meeting my own.

“I know, it’s just that when I had my Diludad problem,” he hesitated.

“I would lock myself in bathrooms to shoot up, and I know you aren’t having a problem like that but I just was worried about you- what are you doing?”

I cut off his rambling by throwing my arms around his middle. He tensed, but quickly melted. He wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and my waist, laying his head on mine.

“Y/n, I promise you, you’re doing your absolute best to stop Alessia. We wouldn’t even be where we are right now if you hadn’t made the connections. Those deaths are not your fault.”

My tears finally began to cascade like a waterfall, staining his shirt.

“I know, but it’s just like it is all my fault! I could have paid closer attention, or-or, I could have went after her at the zoo, it’s all my fucking fault, Reid.”

I sobbed into his shirt, my hand gripping his shirt like my life depended on it. Like if I let go I would fall into a deep, deep, endless hole.

His hand on my waist moved up to cradle my head.

“It’s not, I promise you-“

He was cut off mid sentence by the ringing of his phone.

“I am so, so sorry-”

I pulled away, breifly touching under my nose with my wrist, then moving a hair behind my ear.

“Nope, it’s fine, don’t worry.” Our words almost had overlapped each other as we clambered to fight the tension that had risen. I closed my eyes, tilting my head up, thinking about how unprofessional yet intimate our previous position had been. How wrong, yet how right it felt.

I kept running the moment through my head, the feeling of his warm figure encasing mine on replay.

His phone call played as background noise to the film playing in my brain, his voice calming me to an extent.

“Yeah, we’re on our way. Thanks, Morgan.”

He closed the phone with a snap, also snapping me out of my trance, putting the movie on pause.

“They’ve got a hit. Copelas was seen dropping by her old apartment.”

And for the first time since that Goddamn case had started, I smiled genuinely.

“Let’s go get her.”

————————

15 Minutes Prior, Central Park, New York

“Hotch?”

“Yes?” He looked back from where he was driving, following our lead in a rushed manner.

“What will we do if she...” I trailed off.

“Hypnotizes one of us?” He finished for me. I nodded solemnly.

The look on his face was conflicted and it took him a moment to come up with a response.

“We kill her before we have to kill one of our team members.”

He saw a look of uncertainty on my face and spoke up once more.

“And that’s an order.”

I nodded again, making eye contact with him through the rear view mirror. I fell back into my seat, closing my eyes briefly.

After a few more minutes on the road, we had arrived.

The doors all slammed to the SUVs, one after the other as we stepped out.

“The letter said that she would be here, somewhere here.”

The voice of Morgan was channeling through my earpiece, referring to the letter found at her apartment that she had left just for us.

“We ordered evac on citizens, correct?”

The unsure voice of JJ was also heard through the earpiece, her uncertainty quite unusual to hear.

“Yes, it was the first thing we did, Jayj.”

I whispered, a sly smirk from Spencer forming at my behavior.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

snap!

Our senses adapted, becoming dialed to 11 at the sound of a twig snapping under someone's feet.

“Was that you?” I mouthed to Spencer. He shook his head no and I silently cursed to whatever force was listening.

I nodded, which he then reciprocated, the pair of us slowly walking towards the source of the sound after he did.

“They’re going to remember me, I’ll go down in history.”

The voice was sing-songy and quiet, floating through the air. I took a shaky breath, continuing my steady pace.

My breathing momentarily halted soon after.

Different variations of “Oh my God”s, and loud gasps from almost everyone on the team flooded my ear canal at the horrifying sight in front of us.

Red. So much of it.

“Guys, I think we know what she’s been doing with the bodies’ blood.”

“No shit.” I muttered under my breath.

She was bathed in the blood, it looked like something straight out of a horror movie.

“Alright everyone, I want you to approach her as quietly as possible, Morgan, if you get the chance, corner her.”

Hotch’s voice was a stark contrast to her own, Derek’s response all the same.

—————————

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“But Agents, you still haven’t answered my question. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Alessia Copeleas, FBI, come on, get up, lets go.”

Derek’s voice was stern, not asking, but demanding that Alessia come with us.

“I’m afraid I just can’t do that, Agents.”

She stood up abruptly, causing all of our weapons to rise. The sun reflected off of the silver metal of Reid’s gun, sparkling in a stunning way that caught me off guard.

We all were trying to act as if we were in total control of the situation, but we could tell that us nor Copelas really believed that. Her words were her weapon, and this was the one time where words could hurt, but sticks and stones had virtually no power.

“Take another step and we will have no hesitation to fire.”

She smirked, rolling her eyes.

“If you do, will I be famous you think? You think they’ll hear about me back home?”

Her curls softly blew in the wind, making her appear almost harmless, maybe even endearing, if it wasn’t for the hardening coat of human blood soaking her clothes and seeping from her skin.

“Is that what you want? The kids back home and everyone here to hear about you? You want ‘Butterfly Baron’ written on every billboard in Times Square, your picture painted in museums, films to be made in your honor?” Reid was the one who spoke up this time, his voice remaining strong. Her eyes shone with a sickening excitement at what he said.

“You want to be famous?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Too bad.”

My eyes widened, surprised at the detour the conversation had taken.

“What-what do you mean?”

“Please, the only thing people will hear about is a sad, boring little girl from a small town who killed to feel better about herself. They’ll forget about you in a week, who knows, maybe they’ll even grow an infatuation with your town, someone you went to school with may get as lucky as to catch their big break!” He laughed, while Alessia looked absolutely devastated.

“You? You’ll be a nobody.”

“That’s not true! I’ll go down in history, and they won’t! I’m the fucking butterfly baron for hells sake! All these people?” She gestured towards her field of bodies.

“You won’t remember their names, maybe not even their pretty faces, but me? I’ll live forever.”

Her nostrils flared and she strode over to Reid with purpose. The safety on my glock clicked off, but Spencer motioned for me to wait. So I did.

“You know, Agent-“

“It’s Doctor.”

This visibly agitated her even more as she started her sentence over again.

“Doctor, you have a beautiful bone structure. Absolutely perfect. Symmetrical, not to mention just flat out stunning.”

A glaze formed over Spencer’s honey eyes at her words. He lowered his gun momentarily before turning towards me, Copelas doing the same.

“And you, Agent. Wow. I feel like I’m in an art exhibit, you’re gorgeous. I think the Doctor man here would agree.”

As he lifted his revolver at me, the situation became all too real as I understood what was happening.

I either had to shoot the man that I was struggling to admit I was beginning to love, or died at the hands of the very same man.

Tears flooded my eyes, all safeties were turned down, and all guns were pointed at Reid.

“Spence, please.”

My voice was weak, something that seemed to bring Alessia lots of joy.

She laughed before talking again, commanding Spencer.

“Pathetic, really! Spence”, she mocked,“shoot her.”

“No!”

bang!

whack!

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

Present Day, Somewhere In The Sky, The Jet

I opened my eyes from where I had been tackled to the ground by Hotch, surveying my surroundings to see Alessia laying on the grass, the source of her gunshot wound non-distinguishable from the previous blood on her body.

I looked to the right to see where Spencer had crumpled to, his frame bent in a discombobulated position.

“Spencer!” I cried out, crawling over to him like some sort of dog,

“What happened to him?”

“Y/n, he was going to shoot you-“

“I don’t care you should have let him!”

I cradled his head in my lap, allowing my pent up tears to fall.

“Y/n?”

My eyes snapped open for real this time, my mind calmed at the sight of Spencer sitting next to me on the couch, gently shaking my shoulder in an attempt to wake me from my nightmare.

“Spencer! Sorry, was I too loud?”

He chuckled, gesturing to the rest of the sleeping plane around us.

“You’re fine, I wasn’t sleeping, I decided to reread ‘Fahrenheit 451’ for nostalgia purposes. And you weren’t that loud, you just looked like you were having a bad dream.”

I chuckled at the not-so outlandish idea in an attempt to diminish it from his mind and move on.

“I’m fine. But fun fact, I did have nightmares after reading ‘The Veldt’. Seriously, I don’t get how you can just reread Bradbury’s stuff all the time.”

The genius scoffed, starting a rant on how Ray Bradbury’s storytelling was just classic literature and deserved to be reread, thus successfully changing the topic as I hoped my statement would. Although soon after, he caught on much quicker than I would have liked him to.

“And not to mention, The Veldt alone could be seen as a forewarning to the 21st century and beyond, even Bradbury himself supported that interpretation-‘

I gave him a tired smile, enjoying his rambling like I always did.

“-and you totally just got me to change the subject.”

“I was wondering when you were gonna catch up.”

“Hey!”

He laughed as I rested my head on my hand, trying to fall back asleep.

“Really, I can tell those nightmares are bad. What’s going on?” He questioned, his tone empathetic and compassionate.

“It’s nothing, Reid. I just keep seeing in the park, when Alessia got shot and you-you got hurt but instead of getting up like you did in real life, you just…”

I trailed off, not wanting to relive the negative dream any longer for fear of the tears that were pricking my eyes escaping.

“It’s okay, that didn’t happen, I’m right here.”

He pulled me into a hug, allowing me to bury my head in the crook of his neck, his warmth consuming me once more, a sequel to the film from earlier.

“I know, but what if it hadn’t?” I asked as I pulled away.

He shook his head, reaching for his wallet.

“In this job, this course of work, we can’t focus on ‘what if’s’. In this job, we also get nightmares, all of us. It happens.”

He slid a picture over to me, it was of a happy family. The edges were worn from years of being carried, but the picture seemed loved.

“Gideon gave me that when my nightmares started. He told me about how those families we save everyday, and how that’s what makes what we do worth it. And I know you didn’t know Gideon personally, or the work on the specific case with that family, but I want you to have it anyway-“

I cut him off by throwing my arms around his neck, attempting to speak despite being muffled by his fluffy sweater.

“Thank you, Spence. Truly.”

I smiled, and I imagined he was doing the same.

“No problem y/n. Anytime.”

I moved my legs over to be tucked underneath my arms, leaning into Reid. He wrapped his arm around me, also leaning in. We both managed to fall asleep for the remainder of the ride in our state of content, but not before he managed to sleepily call out my name.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“When we land do you wanna go on a date or somethin’?”

I smiled at him, separating from his form just long enough to see that beautiful face of his.

“Without a doubt.”

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

AHAHAHHAHAHAHA I’M WAY TOO HAPPY WITH THAT LMAOOO but anyway chile-

i don’t have some long ass paragraph to write this time omg wig, i’m just proud asf of my work for once (except for the zoo part ngl kinda didn’t like it😳)

😛✨vibes✨ love u, xx hj

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honesthammie · 3 years

Text

Te amo

I am working on a few of the other prompts and a part 2 to prompt 4 the soulmate au I just recently got another puppy and I still have uni work to do so I'm a bit behind schedule with these and I'm so sorry. Hopefully this little kinda songfic makes up for it.

13th doctor x female reader

Warnings: swearing as usual, fluffy, sad thoughts, twist the original songs meaning, long as fuck.

Probably terrible as its my first songfic

I don't know much Spanish so some of the examples later on are Google translated and I know it can be wrong so I do apologise for any mistranslations

This is based off Rhiannas song Te Amo but I'm switching it up a little. I dont why 13th doctor came into my head when I was listening to it but it gave me this lil oneshot idea so enjoy! The picture is not mine but the rainbow effect added is done by me! Same for the picture later on.

I've been travelling with this amazing alien for a whole year now. The adventures are always amazing if she's there! The others sometimes complain and say its boring, especially on a junk planet but to see her face light up with excitement makes my day and it well worth the dirt we cover ourselves on by the time we are done. And when she finds something that she thought was useful and it turns out, it's not her scrunch is amazing.

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm in love with this alien. I know, weird, a human and an alien together? But I can't help it! I'm completely besotted with her. If she even looks in my direction, my legs go to jelly and I get butterflies. I know, cheesy. But thats exactly how I feel around her. I barely want to touch her because I nearly fainted the last few times. And I fear she may pick up on how I'm distancing myself from her. I don't want to break her heart and leave, the thought of her look kills me as is so I'm trying to get her to kick me off.

It doesn't seem to be working though. I've been distancing myself since I found out about how I feel, which is now 6 months ago and she's trying to get me to be as close as I was with her.

I'll tell her. On one of our amazing adventures but I can't do it straight forward, it's making me sick with anxiety just thinking about it. I'll fancy it up, make her work it out. Whenever we are next to each other and the moment is right, I'll tell her in another language!

I finally get out of bed after I finished writing in my diary. I slip some comfy clothes on and head out to the TARDIS library and hope no one is there, especially her. I'll be distracted and right now, I need to concentrate. I wonder the warm halls, grateful that the TARDIS had considered my preferences. I think the TARDIS likes me more than the others because I talk to her and show her gratefulness for taking us somewhere amazing and I chat to her regularly and I try to involve her in my conversations. The others find it weird, except for the Doctor, she just smiles and joins in with me. Im still learning how to translate her but I think I've sort of got it.

I reach my hand forward and grab the aged bronze doorknob and open to the giant room. There were so many floors that an elevator had to be used to access some of them as the Doctor said "walking would literally take weeks to reach some floors". Thankfully the TARDIS organises them to make them easier to find. I looked forward and saw an interactive map in front of me. My hands touched the screen and many subjects and categories came up. Anything ranging from kiddie tales to straight up smut, I have a feeling either River or Missy are to blame for that addition.

I've never met them but the TARDIS showed me videos from her database and brought books to my attention about them. They both seem very dirty minded people so I'm not surprised those are there. I wonder if the Doctor has ever stumbled upon this section or is it for none Doctor eyes only? If she does know about them, has she ever read one? No, don't go there you stupid brain! She probably doesn't know!

I quickly stop that train of thought and catch my breath. I've never thought about those kinds of things about anyone before. Stupid Timelord, making me go all weird and think dirty things. Now my face is all red, I really hope I'm alone in here. I quickly focus back to the task at hand, finding a new language to learn. The TARDIS seemed to know where to go and blue arrows appeared, guiding me to the right section in what could be a maze.

As I walking, I felt excitement rise within me. What if she felt the same way? What if she was impressed by how far I wanted to go just to say those 3 words? Would her hazel honey eyes sparkle with delight? Would she scronch her nose in amazement?

Before I knew it, I'd arrived at the language learning section and there were many alien languages but the TARDIS seemed to have a better idea of what would be perfect for me as a white hardback book fell off the 4th shelf onto the wooden floor. I picked it up and noticed how smooth the cover was and how old yet unused it looked. The white was a little off, almost a dull cream from ageing which made the gold writing harder to read. The title was simple:

Spanish basics and need to knows.

I did always find Spanish in school fun to learn, more than French or German anyway and I don't wanna stereotype this into a typical French is the language of romance. I never really found it romantic sounding compared to Spanish.

I picked up the book and quickly flicked through to the right page and took a note on my phone as to what the translation was and put the worn book away. I quietly thanked the TARDIS and rushed out of the library and back into my room where I could practice without getting caught.

A few weeks have passed since I picked up the new words and practiced them until I was confident and had the TARDIS' approval that I was saying it right. Today the Doctor wanted to take us to this party in the 18th century and we all decided to dress for the part once we landed.

Yaz was wearing a beautiful black and red ballroom gown, accented with little bows around the bottom and lace cuffs. She had her black hair curled into a ponytail. It was simple and cute, much like her style normally. Graham and Ryan wore similar suits but Graham wore green accents and Ryan wore yellow accents.

I let the TARDIS pick my dress. She picked a black and dark blue ballroom gown with blue roses on the bottom. It had black lace underneath and blue lace as the cuffs. The gown also seemed to glitter slightly in the light making me sparkle very subtly. I put my comfy boots on as you couldn't see my shoes as I walked anyway so why did it matter? With all the running we do, I'm not risking my ankles with heels, thank you very much. I had my (h/c) hair in (fave style). It suited my dress perfectly.

I nearly choked on oxygen when I saw how hot the Doctor looked in her suit. It took me a few moments to realise we match. We both blushed at the realisation. Of course the TARDIS makes us match! No wonder why she was more than eager to help me pick an outfit! Stupid sentient ship, shipping us already!

I quickly cleared my throat and complimented everyone on how amazing they looked but I just couldn't take my eyes off the Doctor for long. She was like a magnet for my eyes. Someone help before she realises!

"Don't we all look brilliant? Perfect for the party! 18th century Yorkshire to be exact! What a great century for you guys. Now then, this party is for Nobles and higher, as per usual in these times. Ryan, I suggest you keep in mind about any racist comments that may come out. But as long as you say your Graham's personal butler, you should be welcomed with little resistance. And Yaz, I want you to be (y/n)'s personal maid. That does mean you'll have to follow your so called "masters" around and do anything they ask unfortunately and Graham, (y/n), please act like the others around you and use them. Unfortunately this is the only way all 5 of us can join the party. You'll be fine as long as you bite your tongues. Now the Noble Edward Collins is the host so be sure to thank him for inviting you, even though you technically weren't. And try not to get too drunk, I know what you humans are like! Now follow me." The Doctor explained. I was going to tell the Doctor today, but I guess, I'll have to wait.

The Doctor opened the doors and we were in a cupboard under some gorgeous marble stairs. As we walked towards the party I noticed some family portraits along the walls. They were a very beautiful looking family. The mother had long blonde hair and pale blue eyes. The father was buff, long brown hair and daring brown eyes. There were two children, a girl and a boy. The girl had long brown hair and sparkling blue eyes, whilst the son had blonde hair and brown eyes. They also had a brown greyhound dog laying by the sons feet. The son must be the host, Edward. He looked not much older than 10 in the last painting but the daughter was no where to be found in the portrait and theu all looked mournful. Is she dead and is that the picture capturing the moment of grief? Why would anyone want that? It's so strange, even for this time period.

The Doctor held me and Yaz close, stopping us in our tracks. My heart was racing at the simple touch. But as soon as the touch was there, it was gone. "I hope its okay with you (y/n) but you're going to have to be married to someone."

My heart stopped for a moment and I nearly choked on air. "What? Why?"

"Because women like yourself would have been married as young as 13 or 14. Now your only choices are me and Graham. You can't choose Ryan as he's supposed to be a butler and you can't choose Yaz as she's your maid. The choice is yours, I just need to know wether or not I should refer to you as my darling wife or not?"

What. The. Fuck.

Why did her even calling me that l, turn me on? Obviously, I'm going to choose her but I'm going to have to perfect my reasoning here.

"As much as I love Graham, it's going to be awkward if I have to kiss him or anything because he's like my grandad! I guess you'll do Timelord. Come on then husband, we don't want to be late to the dancefloor!" I spoke clearly hoping she didn't notice how excited I actually was to have even a hint of a relationship with her. It may be fake but ill take anything when it comes to her.

We arrived at the welcome committee and handed our cards over, aka the psychic paper. We were going as Mr and Mrs (last name). The Doctor was holding my hand this entire time and it's driving me insane. I don't know if she can feel my racing pulse under her fingers but if she can I hope she puts it down to excitement! We walked down the most grandest staircase you would ever lay your eyes on.

First we walked around, greeting everyone as they came up to us or if she dragged me to someone she knew, but not personally. She was cute when she was fangirling over these people. Yaz found it annoying as she just wanted to party but I couldn't help it. The way her eyes shimmer with recognition was more beautiful than any galaxy she could ever take us. Sometimes her eyes flickered with admiration and it did make me have jealousy for just a moment before I remembered, I'm staying with her and they aren't .

As the party moved on we met the host Edward. He looked a lot different than in his paintings. He was around 20 years old now and his blonde hair was below his shoulders. He looked a lot like his father with his muscley build. And he was very charismatic which I did not like as he poured all his charm into the Doctor. Does everyone here know that he's gay or does he see through the Doctors disguise? Either way, it was rubbing me the wrong way. I quickly excused myself with Yaz and walked into the bathroom.

"I did not like him. I do not like this Edward guy. Something about him rubs me completely wrong. He's handsome but something is telling me he knows the Doctor isn't a man."

"I felt the same way. He knows something we don't. Before we go out there again, do you mind if I ask you a question?" Yaz asked. My mind was racing a hundred miles an hour. She knows. The jig is up with Yaz. "How do you feel about her, honestly? One minute you 2 are inseparable, then you distance yourself and now you are a nervous wreck around her! I won't judge but I just want to make sure my theory is correct."

Shit. I guess I really was obvious. Does she know?

"If your theory is about me falling hopelessly in love with the Doctor then you'd be correct. I can't help it. I'm going to tell her how I feel without being completely stupid. I just need a right moment to say it." I spoke with a heavy sigh. Hopefully, Yaz can help create that moment thay I need. She nods her head and opens the door. We walk back to the Doctor and notice Edward has gone to other guests and she was talking to Graham. I looked around and saw Ryan flirting with a pretty lady near the food table. Why am I not surprised?

A few hours had passed and the Doctor seemed bored with standing and talking so I made a plan in my head. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the dancefloor as the next song came on. I didn't quite know how to dance properly but I knew the basics if it. She has to lead and I simply follow suit. It took a few moments but I got the hang of it with the Doctors help. Soon we were dancing so gracefully underneath the most beautiful candelabra that lit up her face perfectly.

Her hair swayed to our perfect dance ever so gently. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and her lips were in a permanent smile. She even laughed a couple of times. Then as the music slowed down to a pace that was perfect, I grabbed her waist and looked her. My heart was going crazy and my legs were about to buckle but I had rehearsed my lines. I can do this.

"Hey Doc. Its been an amazing time with you but I can't continue this without being honest with you. But everytime I get close, I back down in fear. So I'm going to let you figure it out. Doctora te amo. Entiendo que si no sientes lo mismo y me iré si quieres. (Doctor i love you. i understand if you don't feel the same way and i'll leave if you want.)" I spoke with as much passion and intention as I could. I looked into her eyes and saw her confused and trying to work out what I said. I would find it cute if my heart was beating right out of my chest. "Well, I've had a great time but I'm fucking knackered. I'm calling it night. I'll be heading to the TARDIS if you need me."

"I'll come with ya. I'm knackered as well and we both need each other to undo the corsets and mine is starting to hurt a little bit. How we used to do this for a full day, everyday, is beyond my understanding. As beautiful as we look, I don't think its worth the pain this will bring in the morning." Yaz spoke with a slight mumble as proof of her mental state and finishing with a yawn. I chuckled at her state and walked back to the TARDIS with a small amount of chat along the way.

She is right though. These corsets really do hurt you after a while, I'm glad I chose not to wear heels or else I'll be fucked for in the morning. I would literally scream. I think the Doctor had the right idea in wearing a suit, no pain. I do feel bad for leaving her but I just need some space after basically admitting everything that's been built up within me for too damn long. Maybe I should tell Yaz how it went and maybe she can help determine if the Doctor is happy or not.

We walked back into the wardrobe room and I helped Yaz out of her corset. She immediately sighed in relief. She finished getting herself into comfy clothes and started to untie my ribbon.

"So did you tell her?"

"Sort of. I basically told her everything but in Spanish. I just hope it doesn't change anything, except in a positive way, of course! If she wants me gone, I've told her that it's fine and I understand. She's very socially awkward and as cute as I find it, it may not help me in this situation. Do you have any clues on how she may react once she figures it out?"

Yaz stopped untying my corset for a moment and placed 1 finger upon her chin in thought. Her eyes were almost shut and seemed almost completely black in the light. After what seemed like forever, she took her finger off her chin and beamed a toothy smile. Her eyes sparkled as she remembered something and seemed to gleam slightly menacingly. A smirk replaced her smile soon after.

"There's a few times she's shown affection towards you. And I mean romantic affection. She always chooses to hold your hand over anyone else's if given the choice. She always steps I'm front of you when an enemy threatens to kill us all or hurt us in anyway. When you go wandering around on your own, she's terrified thats she's lost you forever to an enemy we don't even know of!" Yaz starts explaining carefully as if she's worried on how to word it.

"Those are just friendly affec-"

"I wasn't done. I was warming up." Yaz interrupts me as I was about to go into a self deprecating speech on how I'm just a friend to everyone and never a lover. "She always looks to see your face on adventures because she secretly loves your reactions, bad or good. When the Master revealed himself, she looked straight at you for support on how she should react. When she came back from the Kasavin, she ran straight to you and made sure you were ok first before any of us. When we were in the Tsungra medical ship, the first person she asked for was you! Whilst she was unconscious on board the ship, she kept mumbling your name, over and over again. When she saw how gorgeous you looked today, I thought she'd take you right there on the spot! She fucking loves you (y/n)! You're just so unbelievably blind to it all!"

Yaz was almost red with rage. Did she really do all that, for me? The TARDIS mustve read my mind and seemed to hum positively in reply. If everything Yaz said is true then she'll be so happy about it and maybe we can be a thing! But then again, maybe losing so many in a similar position as me will turn her away. Maybe her soul is awry and she's asking why right now.

Once I had gotten changed I went to sleep almost straight away, I suppose all that dancing and social ques having tired me out more than I thought.

I woke up to a soft knock on my door. I rubbed my (e/c) eyes and told them I'd be a few minutes as I've only just woken up. It wasn't until I finished brushing my (h/c) hair that I remembered what happened yesterday. All the panic rushed within me at once and I nearly threw up. I took several deep breaths and opened the door.

"GRAHAM THANK FUCK ITS YOU!" I almost shouted at him. He looked a little bewildered for a moment before he seemed to remember what brought him here in the first place.

"Hello Love, I'm here because Doc wanted to speak with you privately in the library. She says that the TARDIS will guide you to her location. She seemed a little off after you and Yaz left. Did something happen? Is everything ok?" Graham asked cautiously. He must be so confused.

"Sort of. I'll explain more when I get back but what do you mean by "a little off"?"

"Well she seemed lost in all sense of the word. She kept muttering "Te Amo" all the time. She was all over the place aswell. She got me and Ryan back here not long after you guys. Something about not trusting Ryan to not get alcohol poisoning without her around. She hasn't really left the library since if I'm honest. She's been in there for 12 hours. I only know she wants you because she whattsapped me on my phone. Whatever is going on, please sort it out, she's starting to really worry me. She hasn't been the same since that Master guy came around." Graham spoke clearly, albeit confused. I nodded my head and walked in the opposite direction to him and hoped the TARDIS would take me there quicker than normal. I want to treat this like a plaster, rip it off in one go.

Sooner than I realised, I grabbed the all too familiar door knob of the library. I took a deep breath and walked in. A blue line appeared towards the interactive map. I awakened the console and I saw a black screen with a few words on it. It looked like a message with how it was presented.

Hello (y/n)! Don't walk until you calm. Breath deeply and try not to panic. I promise you, all will work out in the end. I see more than you realise and I know my thief better than anyone whoever stepped foot into my being. I know of her main problem about the situation. If she loves you, drink this. It won't hurt, she'll know what it is.

The TARDIS

I should have been surprised by this new knowledge that she could speak to me, in a way, but I've seen so much and I am so tender hooks so I didn't take much notice of it. I quickly sat down and tried to control my breathing. After about 5 or so minutes, I felt calm enough to finally meet up with her and hear what she has to say.

I followed the blue line carefully until I spotted her in a comfy room. She mustve gotten changed at some point as she was wearing her usual rainbow outfit, minus the jacket. She was sat on a deep purple sofa, legs curled into her body. Her shoes were on the carpeted floor underneath her, seemingly forgotten for the moment. There were many books surrounding us from many cultures and spieces. One wall had a cozy wood burning fireplace crackling within the silence that surrounded us.

Her face was scrunched within deep thought. Her eyes sparkling with an emotion that I couldn't quite put my finger on; hope, sorrow or excitement? Her lips had a small smirk gracing them and her teeth had bitten a small part of it. Her hands were holding a book in a way where I couldn't quite see what it was.

I didn't want to disturb her as she looked so ethereal with the warm glow of the fire highlighting her in the perfect way. Unfortunately, it's plaster time and I wanted this sorted sooner rather than later. I took a deep breath took in the picture for memory.

"Hey, Graham said you wanted to talk to me? Is everything ok?" I asked gently and as softly as I could so she was carefully brought out of her little world. I didn't want to scare her. She raised her eyes from her book for a moment and bookmarked the page she was at with a little TARDIS paperclip. She placed the book on the table at the side of her and patted the seat next to her.

As I sat down my nerves were through the roof. She gave nothing away as she stared at me for a minute, as if assessing something about me.

"Why are you so nervous? Calm down. You are right, It is to do with last night. You left pretty abruptly after basically confessing your feelings to me. I was so confused, not just about what you said but about myself and what I wanted to do about you." The Doctor spoke monotonously. Did she mean get rid of me? "I had to first of all, find out what you said, well done on learning a new language by the way, one even I'm not fluent at. I'm guessing the old girl had something to do with that idea. Not that, you aren't smart enough but you don't know what languages I do or don't know."

The Tardis seemed to chuckled at the accusation and I simply nodded my head. "I wanted to buy myself time and to impress you."

"You impressed me a long time ago Miss (l/n). That is just a cherry on top. After I figured out what you said, no thanks to my old friend here, I went through a lot of thinking. I've not been in many relationships and you know my history regarding the ones I have been in. You know, River and Missy? And I have such a bad past with it ending in nothing but tears for me. I always lose those I care for deeply." She spoke with tears spilling from her gorgeous eyes. I grabbed her face gently and wiped away the stray tears that managed to escape their home.

"That was when you were a man. You're a woman now, everything is so different. Relationships can be heartbreaking. I know what you're main problem is and the TARDIS has a solution to that. I just need you to tell me the truth. How do you feel about me? Do you want me to stay or not?" I stated holding the small shot glassed amount of liquid in my hand. The liquid was golden and sparkled slightly in the light. There were specks of orange and silver within it and it was as hot as a nice cup of (hot drink). Her eyes sparkled with hope and shock. Her lips were smiling wide. And she seemed to giggle at the sight of it. She held it for a moment as if examining it like a rare artefact, maybe it was. Either way, I trust her judgement and if she's happy about it, then so am I. Once she had analysed the drink, she practically leapt into my arms and pushed me down on my back. She smelled of custard creams and the TARDIS which was odd but completely her and I couldn't imagine her smelling any other way.

"That does solve our problem! What she has just given you is the rarest liquid in the universe seeing as only one thing in the entirety of space can produce it. That drink is known as the nectar of the chosen ones. It's rare as the race that used to make them has practically gone extinct. There's only 3 left in the known universe and you're living in one. That drink is the blood of the TARDIS. It grants you immortality if you drink it. It is said to resemble your favourite beverage no matter who you are. However, it only lasts 100 years and you must drink it every century or else your body clock will kick in and you will age and be as mortal as you are now." She speaks with a warning as we sit up holding holds.

"I have no problem with that. I would sacrifice everything if it meant I got to call you mine. Just please tell me and I'll drink it." I told her with adoration in my eyes.

She held me close and planted a soft and gentle kiss to my lips. It was short but it sent more fireworks than you can imagine through my body. I knew I had found her. She grabbed my waist and whispered next to my ear:

"Te Amo"

#13th doctor #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader #female reader

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ggukkiereads · 3 years

Note

hello ~ im a new blog here. I really love your blog so much. Thank you for taking so much time to collected and make lists for fanfic recs. And also for remembering every bts fanfics and helped the readers and the writers here. Youre really amazing. ♡

I was wondering do you have any tips to the readers if they want to leave review about the fics? I mean what should we focus on when we give the review? I see how you review the fics and i feel like youre an expert or knows well about review and writing things, and i wanna be like that too. I want to leave a good review to the writer so they’ll know i really appreciate their hardworks.

Im sorry if im being annoying, you can ignore me if you want.

But once again, i really appreciate your blog! Thanks for the hardwork ♡

🌷 Hello there! Welcome to tumblr and I hope you enjoy your stay! 🤗 I am thankful for your wonderful comments about my blog but I don’t think I am an expert or anything when it comes to leaving comments! I am just...chatty 😁. I basically just share what I love about the fic (story, the way it’s written, maybe the characters, a favorite scene, how I feel, etc). Anything that made the fic stand out to me.

Someone actually asked me before about leaving comments and you’d find my answer here PLUS some authors shared their thoughts on this too. I also stumbled upon this wonderful comment by @arizonapoppy about the misconception of commenting on fic and I also agree. I don’t comment on every fic I’ve reblogged on my main account (where all ongoing fics I am reading get reposted). I don’t put comments when I don’t have time or energy too. This is related to what @arizonapoppy posted. I just try to be consistent with reblogs on ggukkiereads (because I already started this blog with reactions and proper tagging so I wanted uniformity too)

Other thoughts below the cut:

※ it’s not a critique (so if you feel like what you are going to say is not constructive or more on criticism, best to not continue with reacting to the fic).

First, you are not editor and they are not looking for one. They are just sharing these for fun. So, I think just reacting with things you enjoyed about the fic is the best reaction. There were times I shared what could’ve worked but I try to not make it sound like I am criticizing? An example can be found here and the author responded to it this way:

Okay, now this is tricky because what if another author finds offense or think you are criticizing them (actually I wasn’t really if you read my comments) but you can’t really tell since it’s all online and it’s hard to tell when just reading stuff without seeing the person face to face. So, I guess stick with less critiques on their writing and more of what you like about the whole fic.

※ I also do not write reviews in hopes that the author will respond.

It’s great when they do because I love interaction and sometimes the author will mention interesting tidbits about the story. I just really love writing down my thoughts about stories/characters and I feel like I will explode if I keep all these feelings to myself.

I also noticed that some readers actually like to read comments? I’ve received a lot of messages from others saying they appreciate my "reviews”. Or they had the same thoughts about the story but they couldn’t articulate it. I guess it helps hype the fic or give others an idea what type of vibes the fic has too (as long as you don’t put too many spoilers).

※ Something I personally do with my reactions:

I used to put emojis to indicate how fluffy, angsty, or smutty the fic is (example here). I still do this from time to time especially if the fic has so many genres/vibes. But it’s not required and I don’t pressure myself to put these vibes rating all the time. For example, if it’s just pwp (which is mostly smut) then it’d weird to be so strict with vibes rating. So, I guess the point is don’t get so boxed with how you review. It can be emojis. Others just scream about the fic and it doesn’t matter if it’s incoherent or even misspelled as long as they represent how much you love the author’s writing 💖

Good luck with your blog and I hope my very long response helped somewhat! 🥰

#🌷 chats #blckjeon #about fic reblogs #about fic reviews #aboutggukkie

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wingsofkpop · 4 years

Text

Hiraeth - I.IV: Danced of the Damned

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, slight Fluff, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature language, mentions of death, hints of traumatic experiences, blood, etc.

word count: 5k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

You don’t know exactly what you were expecting to find in the archives of the Town Hall. Maybe a couple old files holding the ancestral information of Moon Dye or a couple ancient photographs where the faces are too blurred and rotted to recognize. Even the finding of a mere rusted pocket watch would have crossed your mind—not a thick registry stuffed full of unthinkable truths.

In your defense, you just happened to stumble upon the records in the dank, dusty basement where the town’s archives stay. It was hidden in a secret compartment behind chalky boxes of cold cases that were forgotten a long, long time ago—how else were you to satiate your curiosity? Inside the mess of cobwebs and dust, there sat the information that would both make and break your sanity.

And maybe if Jaebeom hadn’t approached you in that alleyway and confirmed your suspicions… your mind would have been able to come up with some sort of rationalization.

“Look, I wanted to tell you so many times…” You can’t bring yourself to meet Mark’s gaze, finding more interest in swirling the contents of your untouched tea. Through the corner of your eye, however, you can see your companion feverishly shaking his head, “But knowing about me would put you in danger, (Y/N)... I couldn’t do that to you.”

“That wasn’t your choice to make, Mark.”

“I know that, but—fucking hell.” Mark buries his face in his palms, still rocking back and forth, “It shouldn’t be like this… God, I never wanted this—”

“And you think I did?” You hiss, uncaring about the pure venom in your tone. “How the fuck am I supposed to process all of this? That vampires and werewolves and witches and probably goddamn pixies exist? That my best friend has magical powers and talks to the dead?”

“I don’t—” Mark timidly shrugs, “talk to the dead…”

“Well, at least there’s that much.” A heavy sigh passes from your lips, expelling barely any tension from your aching chest. You toy with the handle of your teacup before finally gathering the willpower to meet Mark’s eyes. His irises are wild and filled with all kinds of emotion, you immediately notice. Probably a mere reflection of your own.

As much as you want to stay angry at your best friend—you physically can’t. No matter how many times your head and your heart go back and forth. Mark lied to you. Mark has been lying to you all this time. But something inside of you won’t let your eyes see past the genuine remorse and hurt written along his face.

He’s still your best friend.

Mark sighs, “What do you want me to do, (Y/N)?...”

“I want you to tell me the truth—the whole truth.”

“I can’t do that,—”

“I at least deserve that much, don’t you think?” Mark withers beneath your murmur, dragging a hand down his face with a frustrated breath. After another moment of silence that seems to stretch on for hours, Mark grabs a nearby bottle of bourbon, pours himself a glass and finally nods.

“If I tell you everything, there’s no going back… Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Not really, but I don’t have that choice anymore.” You hum. “I need to know.”

Mark nods again. “Where do you want me to start?”

“At the very beginning.”

The way Mark throws back the alcohol sparks uneasiness in your gut, but not as much as the gloomy darkness that overtakes his gruff tone.

“The main story begins with the first ever vampires that came into existence, known as the Prime Two…” Mark moves to pour himself another drink, but changes his mind and ends up drinking straight from the bottle. You wonder whether you should ask for a sip as well.

“But you know them already… as Im Jaebeom and Park Jinyoung.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Youngjae releases a content breath as he steps into the warmth of the bookstore, effectively escaping the post-rain chill of the outside. He shakes the remaining coolness from his hands before heading toward the front counter, where Bambam is stationed flipping through a high-end fashion magazine. Youngjae fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“Bam?”

Bambam looks up at Youngjae’s voice. “Hey, man. What’s going on?”

“I need your help.” Youngjae surveys the area of the store, checking down aisles and around corners for any signs of life. The racing of his heart somewhat slows at the lack of other customers, allowing him to turn back to the cashier and continue, “The coven is in danger. Nayeon-noona is dead.”

“I heard about that. I’m so sorry, hyung.” Bambam nods his head, “What can I do?”

“Are you able to see an account of everyone who steps foot in this town? Visitors included?”

“Yeah, I know some guys who can get whatever information you need. You feel like taking a trip up to the police station?”

Youngjae hums in response, waiting patiently for Bambam to lock up the register. He watches the younger throw on his coat before meeting him behind the counter. With Bambam in tow, Youngjae leaves the comfort of the shop. After Bambam locks the door, the two continue through the cold in the direction of the police station. Youngjae again checks his surroundings, feeling more than just the chill of the air.

“Did you… find what killed her?”

“What?”

Bambam repeats again a little louder. “Nayeon. Do you know what killed her?”

“A hunter and another witch.” Youngjae explains, “We have records of them murdering countless covens before coming to Moon Dye.”

“I may not know everything about this supernatural stuff, but don’t hunters hunt vampires...?”

“We’re not sure why either of them are specifically targeting witches.” Youngjae shudders, pulling his coat tighter around his shoulders. “I just hope we can find them before…”

“Hey.” Bambam halts Youngjae’s pace with a hand on his arm. “We’re gonna find these douchebags and make sure they don’t hurt anyone else.”

Youngjae weakly smiles. “Thanks, Bam.”

“C’mon. I’m freezing my ass off.” Youngjae follows Bambam’s wishes and continues down the street, feeling less and less paranoid knowing the younger is by his side. Instead, Youngjae’s mind thinks back to your sudden entrance only mere minutes ago.

Youngjae wanted to stay at the mausoleum and help Mark deescalate the situation, but the older insisted that he continue the search. He can’t help but remember the betrayal across your features—the way you looked at him and Mark as if they were aliens.

“Why did you give (Y/N) Mayor Bhuwakul’s old diary?” The question escapes Youngjae’s lips before he can stop himself. His inquiry visibly takes Bambam off guard, manifesting in the form of confusion along his features, before shifting to realization.

“Because she deserves to know.”

“But what about Mark-hyung? You know what this will do to him, right? To him and (Y/N)?”

Bambam shakes his head. “I know Mark cares about (Y/N), and (Y/N) cares about Mark.” He peers at Youngjae through the corner of his eye and shrugs, “That’s not gonna change just because she knows the truth, hyung. I doubt that will ever change.”

Youngjae doesn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on the moving pavements at his feet. He knows Bambam is right, and knows both Mark and (Y/N), but something in his gut doesn’t feel right—like a sense that something is coming.

Something bad… Something really, really bad.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“So you’re telling me that not only are there vampires almost a thousand years old running around without a care in the world, but you’re also the leader of the town witch coven who protects Moon Dye from supernatural threats?” Mark nods at your recount, holding back a smile at the cute furrow in your eyebrows. “You realize how absolutely unreal that sounds? Right?”

“You said you wanted the truth.”

“I’m only slightly regretting that decision now.” You sigh, smoothing a hand over your scalp. Mark notices a stray hair fall across your forehead at your movement. He’s not sure whether it’s the light buzz radiating throughout his veins or the way your eyes seem to glitter in the sunlight, but his mind has to warn his hands to remain glued to the table. Still, Mark can’t help but feel disappointed as you brush the strand away.

You shrug your shoulders, “How… How do you do it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like…” Mark carefully watches your expression, noticing the slight tremor in your tone as you trail on. “How do you… do magic…?”

“Well, there’s a bunch of ways.” He explains, “Spells. Potions. Channeling objects. Control of the elements. Some witches can even see events from the past, present or future.”

“So you don’t wave around wands and ride on broomsticks?”

The first genuine laugh leaves Mark’s lips for the first time tonight. “No. Though Youngjae did try to enchant his car to fly one time.”

“Where does it come from? The magic?”

“It’s dependent on the witch, and the type of craft they practice.”

Not desiring to scare you off, Mark chooses to show a more modest example. He focuses his attention onto your cup, still full of now cold tea, and murmurs a quick incantation beneath his breath. Your entire body flinches as the glass lifts at least six inches off the table, enough to hover at the level of your eyes. After a couple seconds, Mark lowers the cup back into its original place. When he meets your gaze, he expects to see fear embedded beneath your irises, but it’s the opposite:

You seem fascinated.

“I usually practice Traditional Magic, so I use the Earth and other natural elements to amplify my magic.” Mark says, “Most witches are born with their own powers, but that’s not always the case.

“Youngjae—take him as an example—is a Siphoner. In order to generate magic, he has to absorb it from other things, be it objects or people.”

“So he… siphons magic?”

Mark smiles. “Exactly. You’re catching on pretty quick.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” You shake your head, curiously peering down at the stationary teacup before returning your attention back to Mark. “When I read through that book in the archives, I saw something about Lycanthropes… Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Werewolves.” He states matter of factly.

“They exist too then?”

“You remember Kim Yugyeom? Bambam’s best friend?”

You nod.

Mark nods too. “He’s the second in command of Moon Dye’s pack. I don’t think you’ve met the new Alpha, Bang Chan.”

“I’ve heard the name from some of my kids.” Mark can practically feel the exhaustion from your sigh. He debates the idea of reaching across the table to take your hand in his—the loneliness of your fingers spurring him on even more. Before Mark can make up his mind, you’re already withdrawing your limbs and hiding them in the comforts of your lap.

“I just—I’m just having a hard time processing all of this.”

Mark shakes his head, “It’s a lot to take in, (Y/N).”

“I know, but—” You pause to lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows in his direction with the beginnings of a scowl overtaking your lips. “I’m still pissed that you kept this whole other world a secret from me. I mean, for fucksakes, Mark, you’re my best friend.”

“I’m—I was protecting you. Knowing this stuff exists doesn’t come without consequence, (Y/N).”

“Stop saying that, oh my god—” Mark waits as you bury your face in your palms, deeply breathing through the divots of your laced fingers. After maybe a minute of silence, you raise your head and murmur, “What is it about me knowing that puts me in danger? I was nearly killed by that vampire without knowing shit.”

A wince overtakes Mark’s features. “It’s complicated…”

“I’m so sick of everyone using that excuse.” You hiss, “You don’t keep something like this from me, especially the fact that you’re—”

“Do you know how Nayeon died?” Mark can see how his sudden question takes you off guard by the widening of your eyes and pursing of your lips. You take a few moments to collect yourself, right your expression, before answering:

“She was… killed by an animal.”

Mark shakes his head again. “No. Nayeon was murdered by a supernatural vampire hunter and another witch.”

You blink. “B-But… was she a—?”

“She was a witch—an innocent witch that never provoked, nor hurt anyone.” Mark leans forward until the edge of the table presses harshly against his ribs. The uncomfort does little to garner his attention—too focused on speaking to you with his desperate eyes. “This world—my world is dark, (Y/N). The creatures in my world are even darker, including me.”

He pretends not to catch the brief wave of unease that washes over your face.

“Right now, there are two fucking crazies in town out to kill me and my people.” Mark gulps at the stone long formed at the back of his throat. “If I lose anyone else, I—” Unable to finish his sentence, Mark shifts his focus. “I just need you to understand, (Y/N). Please.”

“Mark—” Tremors shoot through his veins as your fingers latch around his wrist—the warmth of your touch sobering the last remnants of his mind. He has to hold back tears at the pure sympathy that resonates from your bright irises. “I understand, okay?”

He nods, not trusting the quality of his voice.

You softly squeeze his arm. “No more secrets though… Promise me.”

“(Y/N)—”

“Promise me.”

Mark knows he shouldn’t, but the way you’re looking at him—so calm, yet so determined—the way you always look at him… He can’t do anything but give in.

“I promise.” He murmurs, placing a hand over your own with a weak smile. “No more secrets.”

You nod approvingly, offering up a smile of your own. Your lips part again, as if to ask another question, when a knock sounds from the door. Mark almost verbally protests when you pull away, but holds back his annoyance to answer the unexpected visitor with a silent sigh. However, he can’t hold back his scowl at the sight of Jinyoung on his doorstep.

“Mark. It’s good to see you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I apologize for my sudden visit, but I needed to talk to you about—” Jinyoung’s voice trails off, which Mark quickly realizes is because of your known presence. He watches, with narrowed eyes, as you and Jinyoung exchange an array of glances before he turns back to Mark.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t realize you had company. I’ll come back—”

“She knows.” An uneasy feeling erupts in Mark’s gut at the weak expression that crosses over Jinyoung’s face. He doesn’t like how Jinyoung looks at you again, nor the blank stare you offer the vampire in response.

Jinyoung nods. “I see…”

“What did you—?” Mark’s phone rings before he can finish his question, temporarily relieving him from the atmosphere of awkwardness and irritation. He steps aside to allow Jinyoung the space to enter while pulling his phone from his pocket. His eyes remain fixated on the interaction between both you and Jinyoung as he answers the call, lifting the device up to his ear.

“Please tell me you and Bam found something.”

“It’s not much, but we at least found a lead.” Mark breathes a sigh of relief at Youngjae’s answer. As to include both you and Jinyoung into the conversation, he turns Youngjae on speaker phone, avoiding the curious glint in your gaze.

“There’s no record in the police database of any suspicious visitors entering town within the last few months, so we’re sure they probably got into Moon Dye undetected, or at least not on city file.”

“How does that help us?”

“You need to let me finish, hyung.” Mark can practically hear Youngjae roll his eyes over the line. “We may not have records, but some of Bam’s friends were able to look into the cameras stationed around the border of the road that leads into town. They caught footage of a bus dropping off two young women, who were then picked up by a 2018 BMW M6. We tried to track the license plate number, but the registration is private.”

Jinyoung murmurs with a nod, “So someone who lives here in town brought them in. It’s possible we may be dealing with more than just a hunter and a witch.”

“I don’t think so.” Youngjae disagrees, “The tracking spell would have picked up on every accomplice involved in Nayeon-noona’s murder.”

Mark feels sick at the slight grimace that pulls across your features. He knows you're playing strong by the way you quickly mask your discomfort.

“Anyway, we were only able to track the vehicle as far as Poison Square. But we do have the faces of the two young women that got off of the bus.”

“That’s something then.” Mark sighs, sharing a wary glance with Jinyoung. “What do they look like?”

“Both are probably somewhere in their early- to mid-twenties, have dyed blonde hair and are relatively around the same height.”

Jinyoung shakes his head. “That could be anyone. Can you be more specific?”

“The one woman has three distinguishing beauty marks: One on the bridge of her nose, another above her upper lips, and a third near the corner of her mouth.”

“Shouldn’t the hunter have something on them? Like a mark?”

“We wouldn’t be able to see the hunter’s mark.” Jinyoung shuts down Mark’s inquiry with a frown, “It’s only visible to other hun—”

“This mark… Is it a tattoo, by any chance?...” Mark nearly flinches at your sudden question—Jinyoung almost doing the same. The latter resurrects from the surprise before releasing a hesitant answer:

“Well, I’ve never seen it myself, but… yes.”

“Oh my fucking god…” The pure shock that overtakes your face sends warning bells chiming through Mark’s mind. He sets the phone on the table before dropping to his knees in front of your sitting form, immediately noticing the trembling of your hands. Worst case scenarios play through his thoughts like creepy puppet shows, but he pushes them away to focus on you.

“What is it?”

When you meet his gaze, your eyes are wild with a blend of shock and fright. Mark feels even sicker than before, and not because of the alcohol.

You gulp. Not once. But twice.

“I… I know who Nayeon’s killers are.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Please, just let me go…” Jihyo sobs, hot tears beginning to spill down her burning cheeks. The rope around her wrists chafes uncomfortably at her skin, eating away at what little dignity remains in her heart. “I really don’t understand what you want from me…”

Momo releases a huff—the sight and sound mirroring a dragon blowing smoke through his nostrils. Jihyo watches through terrified eyes as Momo paces across the living room floor, feverishly shaking her head and mumbling incoherencies underneath her breath. The fear continues to grow when Momo stomps to where Jihyo is frozen stiff on the sofa.

“How many fucking times do I have to repeat myself?” Momo growls, shoving her tattooed arm in Jihyo’s face. “You see this mark, then you’re a hunter. It’s not rocket science.”

Jihyo weakly shakes her head. “You’re sick, Momo… Th-This whole thing about vampires and witches and hunters doesn’t exist…”

It’s a lie—Jihyo knows in her heart that a part of her, a very stupid part of her, believes every little detail that has left Momo’s lips. Some of it makes too much sense not to be true: The sudden animal attacks. The mysterious disappearances. The unexplained instances she’s had ever since she moved to Moon Dye Bay.

“I told you that—”

Momo’s voice cuts out at the sound of a slamming door. For a moment, hope swirls through Jihyo’s gut, thinking that either Sana or (Y/N) must have come to her rescue, but the burst vanishes at the sight of Mina stepping into view—Jihyo’s fear instead skyrockets.

Momo said she’s a witch.

“What is going on here?” Mina demands, her tone stern and expression cold. Momo only smiles in response.

“Sister!” She skips over to the newcomer, delicately taking Mina’s hands into her own. The act actually surprises Jihyo, not expecting the supposed, rather sadistic hunter to be capable of such affection. “Jihyo can see my mark! She’s a hunter just like me, sister!”

Mina immediately tears her hands away, glaring at her sister with such bewilderment and venom. “Are you out of your damn mind!?”

“Wh-What do you mean?”

“Jihyo cannot be involved in any of this!” Goosebumps rise over Jihyo’s skin at the hidden darkness beneath Mina’s words. Her eyes glance toward the hallway, wondering the success rate of being able to reach the front door without alerting either sister. “Do you not remember what happened last time you tried to train another hunter?”

“Things will be different this time. I am stronger now—we are stronger.” “You don’t know that for sure.”

“Think of how easy it will be to take out the rest of Tuan’s coven with another hunter on our side, sister.” Momo persists, striking more panic through Jihyo’s already stocked body. Against her better judgement, Jihyo tries to escape her rope bindings… and unsurprisingly, fails.

Mina shakes her head furiously. “Tuan and his witches have sided with one of The Prime brothers. We can’t risk killing another member without putting our own lives in danger—”

“All the more reason to take on another hunter.” Jihyo shrinks in on herself as Momo grabs Mina’s hand and leads her to her prisoner on the couch. “Please, sister. Think about what those witches did to us—about mother and father.”

Silence, save for the hum of rushing blood in Jihyo’s ears, hangs in the air, thick like a pool of humid fog. Like Momo, Jihyo carefully watches Mina’s expression, searching for any features that may determine the underlyings of her fate.

“So many lives we’ve already taken for mother and father.” Mina pulls her hand free from Momo’s and shakes her head. The rope seems to dig harder into her wrists—as does the terror in her chest when Mina murmurs her next words:

“When will it ever be enough for you, sister?…” Jihyo’s gaze remains transfixed on Mina as she makes her way back through the kitchen, pausing to offer the bound woman an apologetic glance. “I’m so sorry you were brought into this… but I’m even more sorry that you’ll have to die because of it…”

Whatever remaining hope inside Jihyo snaps as Mina throws her one last pitiful smile before rushing out the apartment—leaving Jihyo to the mercy of her deranged sister.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jinyoung closely watches how your fingers seem to cling to Mark’s hands as you think over your words, almost as if his mere touch is enough to keep your mind grounded. And though he’d never admit it aloud… Jinyoung feels envy that Mark is the one who’s comforting you.

“Mina and Momo are friends of Sana from when they were in high school.” You explain, peering between both Mark and Jinyoung’s curious expressions. Though Jinyoung notices how your gaze seems to avoid his seeking eyes. “I don’t know anything about them beside the fact they’re foster sisters, and they had a pretty shitty time in the system.”

“Then how are you so sure it’s them?” Youngjae inquires, still over the phone. “And how did you know about the hunter’s mark?”

You pause, and based on your expression, Jinyoung would guess you’re almost reluctant to answer his questions. He moves to soothe your uneasiness, but Mark beats him to it:

“We have to know, (Y/N)... It’s important.”

Jinyoung’s jealousy expands at the intimate glance you and Mark share.

After another moment of quiet and a heavy sigh, you finally speak, “The other day, I heard Jihyo comment on a tattoo that Momo had—but there was no tattoo. Neither Sana nor I saw one, so I just thought Jihyo was imagining things until…”

“Until now.” Jinyoung finishes. He inhales an unsteady gust of air, carding his fingers through his styled hair, and shakes his head with a solemn expression, “(Y/N)... For Jihyo to be able to see Momo’s hunter mark would mean she’s a—”

“We have to warn the others.” Mark interrupts Jinyoung, suddenly rising to his feet. “Youngjae, give a call to Lia, Jisung and Minho and tell them to get their asses over here as soon as possible.”

“Already done, hyung. I couldn’t reach Minho, but I left several voicemails and dozens of texts.”

“I’ll start on that linking spell we talked about. This ends tonight.” Mark lifts his phone from the tabletop, readying his thumb to tap the end call button. “Get here safe, okay?”

Youngjae hums. “Fifteen minutes. Maybe ten.”

“See you soon, Youngjae.” No sooner had Mark ended the call does your voice sound:

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? ‘This ends tonight’?”

Mark shakes his head. “(Y/N)—”

“No. I want to know what that means.” You abruptly rise, sending your chair sliding across the wood floor with a shriek. Jinyoung waits for Mark to come up with an answer, secretly enjoying the obvious discomfort amongst his features, before answering himself after maybe a minute of radio silence:

Jinyoung places a hand on your shoulder. “It means we do what we have to do to keep everyone safe. Including you and the town.”

“But you won’t… kill them? Right? I mean, there’s-there’s other ways that don’t have to end with anyone dead, right…?”

“I don’t know.” Jinyoung murmurs honestly, “If they’re willing to talk, then maybe. But if it comes down to it—”

“Please, don’t…” His heart practically breaks at the shakiness of your tone. “Just—do anything you have to, but don’t kill them…”

Mark raises an eyebrow with a scowl, “They’ve killed dozens of innocent people, (Y/N). If anything, they deserve to die.”

“Maybe…” You shake your head. “But killing them would make you no better than them.”

Jinyoung feels as if you just punched him in the gut with your words. He has to let go of your shoulder to reach back and support his weight against the table, suddenly dizzy and light-headed.

“We’ll…” Mark sighs, “We’ll try our best, okay?”

You nod before wiping your palms against the side of your jeans.

As you and Mark engage in another round of small talk, Jinyoung tries to settle the nauseous feeling in his gut and focus on anything other than the fragrant waft of your scent. He knows he would never hurt you—his self control is too grand to allow anything like that—but the lack of human blood is beginning to affect him again. For the worse.

Usually Jinyoung is able to hold his own with only a couple droplets of animal blood every few days or so. However, his strength and other abilities have long depleted since he began this strict diet, and while he may not be anywhere near desiccation—Jinyoung is certainly hungry. And weak. Very, very weak.

He just hopes he will be able to withstand the upcoming battle.

“But I want to help!”

“And the answer is no fucking way. Absolutely not.” Jinyoung returns to reality just in time to see Mark shake his head indignantly toward your seething figure. Since then, he notices the two of you have moved to a nearby lectern, where Mark is currently flipping through a large grimoire.

“I can help, I mean—Mina and Momo know me and I swear I can—”

“It’s not fucking happening.” Mark growls, slamming the book shut and leering down at you with a sneer. Jinyoung catches how your face doesn’t falter in the slightest at his angered expression.

With a single finger, you poke Mark’s chest. “I’m not just going to sit back and watch while you and your damn wizard gang go and play hocus pocus with a pair of killers.”

“It’s too dangerous—!”

“Do I look like I fucking care!? Didn’t think so!”

Jinyoung steps in, making sure to keep his tone calm so as to not infuriate you anymore. “Mark is right, (Y/N). I’m sorry—but you’d only be a liability for us to keep track of.”

Your expression hardens. “A liability—? Are you serious?”

Mark doesn’t spare a second glance in your direction and instead turns to Jinyoung. He points toward the countertop behind the vampire, “Can you grab the bowl that’s there? The one from yesterday’s ritual?”

“So that’s it then?” Jinyoung grabs the silver bowl filled with dried blood and the charm bracelet as you continue to rant, and hands it to Mark. The witch immediately dips two fingers into the crimson liquid, closes his eyes and begins to murmur a hushed incantation.

You shove at his shoulder. “Mark? Are you kidding me?”

“(Y/N), please—” Jinyoung steers you away from the witch, forcing himself to keep strong underneath your icy stare. “It’s for your own good…”

With a clenched jaw and sparkling eyes, you shake your head. For a moment, Jinyoung hopes you’ll simply turn on your heel and leave the tense atmosphere of the mausoleum, but as always—you surprise him.

“You know, I let your and Mark’s lying about everything slide because I wanted to move past it—for a fresh start.” You lean closer until Jinyoung can practically taste your minty breath on the tip of his tongue. “But you two are still treating me like some sort of princess that needs to be protected.

“And you know what, Jinyoung?” Your hiss strikes something deep inside Jinyoung’s soul—something even he can’t place. “I’m no princess. And I don’t need to be protected. You’ll do best to get that shit through your head.”

Neither Jinyoung nor Mark try to stop you as you stomp out the door.

Jinyoung bites his lip before turning to Mark. “Are we… doing the right thing?”

“I don’t know.” Mark replies, and for once, Jinyoung can relate to the lost tinge in his tone.

“I really don’t fucking know.”

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hemlockyy · 4 years

Text

A response to this tweet:

https://twitter.com/LETMEVOL6/status/1318301718610923520?s=19

"ok. i’m bout to ask a question to the larries. yalls whole argument is that simon and modest are homophobic right? please explain to me how Harry got away with being such a strong advocate for the LGBTQ+ community while being in One Direction? Why was harry the only one dropping hints on his sexuality. if they were so dead set on pushing this heterosexual narrative onto the boys then how did Harry get away with the things that he did? harry was dropping hints at his attraction to males. no, not with over analyzed song lyrics. i mean dead ass saying it. I genuinely want to know because Harry‘s been out of the closet for years now .y’all claim that Louis is closete. Harry managed to get out of the “evil clutches of Simon Cowell“ what stopping Louis and doing the same? unless this whole Larry theory was a lie and y’all were bored like, can someone please tell me why that happened? if Harry is allowed to be so open about his sexuality what stopping louis? if Harry got away from Simon would stopping in Louis they all have the same opportunity Harry may be the richest member but Louis can’t be that far back so tell me how did Harry manage to get away and be so open about his attraction of males and louis didn’t? i genuinely don’t get that."

Harry has been refering to his partner as gender neutral since forever, its not something he dropped hints on.

Not only that you have to also consider the narratives management pushed upon each of them aswell: Ima try to do a brief summary on H and Lou only, as this is reffered to Larries.

Louis: Perfect Boyfriend, a stable girlfriend throughout the years, influencer pretty girlfriend, no background on her so no backlash, constant papwalks on them and the occasional 'theyre toguether' tweets. Literally what it would be normalized as a happy relationship.

Harry: Fuck Boy, dated a lot of people, womaniser, headlines every week linking him to a new person, kendall, Taylor, Caroline etc, all big names yet all stunts, papwalks, 18 months of dating or interaction then never talked about again, the boy to wisk you away to a magical night then leave you the next morning.

Now taking these both you can see they are very different narratives, thus enabling them for two very distinctive ways to hinting at their sexuality with us.

Louis due to stunt reasons had to make his love songs (or his songs overall) seem like they hint at a specific girl, eleanor. Building up on the narrative they've had over the years. So while he can't directly call out his 'perfect woman' in gender neutral pronouns like Harry does, he CAN on the other hand choose what he specifies her as: a good chef, long brown hair paired with a british accent.

Very specific things that very obviously link to Harry while making press and hets think its towards Eleanor.

That one interview which didn't air where Louis said he had a boyfriend...

But this is just verbal. Lyric whise Louis has been more open and smart then anyone I've ever listened to-

The lyrics directly paralleling gay relationship, the struggles, the fear of not being able to be with them... Everything that a Heterosexual reletionship would NEVER experience. A few examples:

→Alive - One Direction (Louis) MM

"My mama told me I should go and get some therapy"

"I asked the doctor, "can you find out what is wrong with me? I don't know why I wanna be with every girl I meet"

"I can't control it"

"She said, "hey, it's alright Does it make you feel alive?"

"We got to live before we get older. Do what we like, we got nothing to lose. Shake off the weight of the world from your shoulders. Oh, we got nothing to prove"

"Went to a party just after the doctor talked to me, I met a girl, I took her in up to the balcony, I whispered something in her ear that I just can't repeat, She said, "okay" but she was worried what her friends will think"

This whole song is about questioning you sexuality and realizing you like the same sex.

Read over the lyrics and change:

girl - boy

she/her - he/him

and you'll see what I mean

→End Of The Day (Louis and Liam) MITAM

"Love can be frightening for sure"

"All I know at the end of the day is you want what you want and you say what you say, And you'll follow your heart even though it'll break, Sometimes"

"All I know at the end of the day is love who you love, There ain't no other way, If there's something I've learnt from a million mistakes, You're the one that I want at the end of the day"

"The priest thinks it's the devil, My mum thinks it's the flu, But girl it's only you"

"When the sun goes I know that you and me and everything will be alright, And when the city's sleeping, you and I can stay awake and keep on dreaming"

this whole song (apart from that one "girl") is just a huge gay awakening. If you keep the girl its a wlw anthem then.

some more exaples from scattered songs:

"There's a moment when you finally realize, There's no way you can change the rolling tide" -Ready To Run

"There will always be the kind that criticize, But I know, yes I know we'll be alright" -Ready To Run

"Told myself I kind of liked her, But there was something missing in her eyes" -Home

"I was stumbling, looking in the dark , With an empty heart, But you say you feel the same"-Home

"Still high with a little feeling, I see the smile as it starts to creep in, It was there, I saw it in your eyes" -Home

"But I know you're only hiding, And I just wanna see you" -Through The Dark

"And I can see your head is held in shame, But I just wanna see you smile again" -Through The Dark

"And I will hold you closer, Hope your heart is strong enough" -Through the dark

"People say we shouldn't be together, We're too young to know about forever" -TDKAU

"They don't know about the things we do, They don't know about the "I love yous"-TDKAU

these are just some out of the many Louis wrote. You can see where I'm going with it now.

and im not even going to touch i to all the shading Louis did with his clothes, tattoos, actions etc...

Now, Harry 'got away' with those actions because of various reasons, but I wouldn't say that he got away, I'd call it more of a "You stop me from doing this we will get backlash for possible homophobia and then y'all lose money so suck it up fuckers we're going on a rainbow ride" which is true; Yes, Harry did always refer to his ideal partner in gender neutral forms, but during the rainbow direction project was when he really amped it up so he could always go with the casual "I'm just supporting my fans, there's no harm in that" when confronted about it, which includes him waving the flags around and all the other stuff.

But it also seems you all are forgetting about how along with all the Queer!Harry we got, we also got more and more headlines of Wom!Harry, more stunts and etc: 5 different official relationships (not counting Kendal twice, which would make 6) between late 2014-early 2016 ALSO NOT COUNTING RUMOURED GIRLFRIENDS which then would make the list go so much higher, Harry couldn't before and still can't hang out with WOMEN or else there will be rumours of them dating.

And this doesn't happen with Men :/ He can hang put with multiple men, and there probably will be barelly one and a half articles written about it -only by small outlets- which in comparison to when he is seen hanging our with a 'mysterious woman' we'll get hundreds of articles about it in a span of an hour.

So what I'm trying to say is that sadly he can still call his ideal partner a he and be seen kissing a guy that the media probably will focus on the chick on the background and write an article like "Harry Styles seen out with friends in LA and he seemed extra cozy with mysterious blonde".

But again, the same with Louis, he hints at us about his sexuality so much, be it us the only one who properly listens to him.

With his songs and the flags and the pins and everything.

Here's some of his lyrics from the Oned era:

"We were meant to be but a twist of fate, Made it so you had to walk away" -Happily

"I don't care what people say when we're together"-Happily

"I can't even think straight but I can tell, You were just with her"-JABOYL

"And nothing's ever easy, That's what they say"-JABOYL

"Pay attention, I hope that you listen 'cause I let my guard down, Right now I'm completely defenseless"-If I Could Fly

"I've got scars even though they can't always be seen, And pain gets hard, but now you're here and I don't feel a thing"-If I Could Fly

"One day you'll come into my world and say it all, You say we'll be together even when you're lost"-Something Great

"I want you here with me, Like how I pictured it, So I don't have to keep imagining"-Something Great

"The script was written and I could not change a thing, I want to rip it all to shreds and start again"-Something Great

"You're all I want, So much it's hurting"-Something Great

So yeah, its sad that you just alienated that one thing without having context nor looking at the bigger picture. If I missed anything please tell me. :]

sorry for the long post

(copied from my answer on twitter)

#answer to tweet #I wish tumblr had a option #This is copied from my response on twitter #They listerally ask the sumbest questions ffs #It was fun #such a long time I haven't written something like this

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tuanhood · 5 years

Text

not stalking

pairing: im jaebeom x reader (ft. a bit of mark)

genre: fluff, angst(?)

word count: 3,346

summary: you’re finally ready to really talk to your crush… except someone else is in his usual place.

a/n: um so this is really bad and I don’t know why I wrote it but here u go! not edited WHOOPS

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

Even you had to admit what a stupid idea it was to keep coming back here almost every single day. You had done the internet stalking before, but actual physical stalking? It was a first time for everything.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it was like for your grandparents or even parents. To be so enthralled by someone that you come to their workplace day after day. Maybe then it was sweet, but now in 2019 you knew it would be considered creepy. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from passing by the window of the animal shelter on your way home from university. Although it wasn’t on the typical route back to your place, you would constantly make excuses as to why you had to go that way.

Examples of excuses you would tell yourself and your friends include, but not limited to:

Ah well my second favorite coffee shop is nearby, and I haven’t been in forever!

I heard they’re doing construction work the other way.

There’s something fresher about the air this way.

I can’t deal with all the people holding clipboards and asking questions, even if it’s the quicker route.

I like to look at the animals at the shelter.

The last one was for sure a lie. Well not for sure, because you did enjoy looking at the animals, but there was something or someone else that you enjoyed the sight of.

It started on a day in May when you accompanied your old housemate to the local animal shelter to help her and her girlfriend choose a dog. You didn’t realize what you had been signing up for was your own adoption to a certain boy who worked at the front desk. Never in your life had you immediately become so hooked to someone. It was as though the minute the two of you locked eyes, he demanded that you dedicated the rest of your life to obsessing over him. And so far, that was telling to be true. That day you couldn’t pay attention or hear your old housemate ask what you thought about a certain dog, instead all you were concentrating on was him, his brown eyes and that smile that melted your heart.

You had never been in a serious relationship before and you had to admit to yourself that maybe it had something to do with your tendency to throw yourself into crushes, but never act upon them. With the way this guy made you feel upon first look, you knew something had to be done – even if it took a year.

Throughout the entire adoption process, as your former housemate signed the papers for her new dog you kept trying to think of something to say on your way out that would impress him or better yet make him declare his love for you.

After the last signature and last filled in blank, you stood up and began to exit the shelter. Your palms began to sweat a little and you felt nausea begin to build in your stomach. Passing by the front desk, you had turned to your right and let out a big sigh, thinking, here goes nothing.

��Um bye, thank you!”

That was it. That was all you had thought of to say in the moment. Thirty minutes of thinking and sitting in a chair as you waited for the adoption papers to be signed you had completely been erased from your memory. Apparently, anything intelligent in your vocabulary had also been erased. “Um bye, thank you,” didn’t even deserve a response, but to your surprise he had turned to you with a big smile.

“Thanks for coming in and adopting a new friend! See you around!”

See you around. He was practically asking you to come back, to come pass by the shelter’s window every day. At that moment you had glanced down at the shirt he was wearing with a name tag attached.

Mark.

From that day Mark had your heart. Mark… Mark… something? So, you weren’t sure what his last name was, but did you really need to to be in love? You had tried to do some in-depth Facebook stalking, but you didn’t have much to go off of except Mark and the place he works. After all who even updates their Facebook profile with their workplace anymore?

Regardless, that led to you passing by almost every day and even going inside sometimes to talk to him. It would often be to just ask a simple question about the adoption process or what kind of breeds of dogs or cats they had in. No matter what it was Mark always managed to answer you with a bright smile and cheerful voice.

Luckily, he hadn’t recognized you yet. Although of course the end goal was to get married or just you know… something – you were nervous about him getting freaked out about you constantly coming in. It wasn’t like an animal shelter was a coffeeshop. You timed out how often you went inside to ask a question to no more than once a week, usually every Tuesday. And every Tuesday you would talk yourself up as to how this would be the time you ask him out or just talk about something that doesn’t have to do with the adoption process and best type of dogs for hiking, but it never happened.

However, you felt really good about this week. This week you had planned on asking Mark about the bracelet he always wears on his left wrist. You had noticed it probably the third week you had gone inside the shelter. Who knows? Maybe it would lead to a conversation about something personal and intimate? Probably not, but you could only hope. Taking a deep breath, you reached the front doors of the shelter without looking into the front window. You didn’t want to see him just yet in case it was going to make you talk yourself into not going through a real conversation with him yet again.

Reaching for the handles of the doors and pulling them open, you stared at the floor. You knew you probably looked like a crazy person, but the butterflies in your stomach began to build. Taking the few steps you needed to get inside, you marched towards the front desk and lifted your head to see Mar-

Not Mark.

Instead, a boy with jet black hair, two moles above one of his eyes and a blank face sat in his place. Your face had fallen and he had noticed.

“Can I help you with something?”

You blinked twice in confusion, “Uh sorry?”

Now it was his turn to blink, “You came in here… I’m assuming you need something. To adopt an animal perhaps?” You wondered why he had emphasized the word animal so strangely, but you decided to discard the thought and answer him.

“Um no sorry, my mistake. I thought- nevermind.” You took this as your chance to turn around and leave completely defeated, but a thought entered your mind. Maybe this could be your chance to gather some kind of intel on Mark? At least his last name so you could stalk him on social media later. What was this mole guy going to say? Hey dude some girl came in asking about you? Mark would never know it was you.

Pausing, you turned around once more back to the occupier of the front desk and cleared your throat. You wanted to come off as confident as though you actually knew what you were doing.

“Actually… I was wondering. Where’s Mark today?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you and took out one of the AirPods he had stuffed into his ears as you had had your internal conflict about leaving the shelter or staying for Mark intel. “Mark who?”

Was this guy new? Then a scary thought had come to you, what if this guy was Mark’s replacement? What if Mark didn’t work here anymore? You would have never known if he had put in his two weeks, after all it’s not like he would have told you. How were you supposed to find him now? Was this it? You stumbled over your words, “M-Mark the one who-who’s usually here.”

Upon hearing your reply, the guy at the desk leaned back in his desk chair and brought his pointer finger to his chin, slowly tapping it in thought. “Hmm… Mark. Mark…. Mark, Mark…”

Taking a closer look, you could tell that he had a slight smirk on his face as if playing with you. Was this guy really just trying to wind you up?

“Sorry, don’t know him,” he said bringing his entire hand down to rest underneath his chin, leaning against the table. It was the clear smile on his face that made you realize that he was indeed teasing you. But why?

“I know you know him. Can you just tell me?” He gave another smile and shook his head from left to right a few times, “Sorry that would be against company policy.”

At this you furrowed your eyebrows, “What kind of company policy would that be?”

“The one where we don’t tell any private information to stalkers.”

You immediately froze. This guy knew about your weekly visits into the shelter? And perhaps even your daily passing by? If he knew… that must mean Mark knew. You felt your stomach drop.

As if reading them, your new tormentor interrupted your thoughts, “Don’t worry Tuan doesn’t pick up on that sort of stuff.”

“Tuan?” You asked. He closes his eyes and hits his hand against his forehead in clear frustration, “Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that. Please don’t look him up on Facebook, Instagram or whatever you use to perform your stalking rituals. It’ll just go to his head and I’ll have to hear about it.”

You had it! Mark Tuan! Mark freaking Tuan. Mrs. Mark Tuan. Mr. Mark Tuan and Mrs-

“I can already tell you’re trying to imagine what your name would sound like with his and I’m getting secondhand embarrassment from it.”

“T-That’s not what I’m doing!” You replied with a strained voice, although it was very much what you were doing. He snorted, “Sure.”

Who did this guy even think he was? He doesn’t know you. Sure, maybe he picked up on the fact that you had been coming by an unhealthy amount to see Mark, but that doesn’t necessarily give him the right to characterize you as a stalker!

“And what if I was doing that? It’s a free country. I’m allowed to have a crush on anyone!” You responded. At that, the guy rolled his eyes and you couldn’t help but feel even more attacked, “Yeah, but a crush on Mark isn’t really a good idea.”

“And why’s that?” It was difficult to gauge your emotions. You couldn’t exactly tell if you were annoyed, frustrated or generally curious about the guy’s notion to tell you that Mark wasn’t a good crush to have. “Mark’s just… not interested in dating.”

“I’m not trying to date him!” You said quickly.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “so are you just trying to fuck him?”

Your eyes widened, “No! Of course not! I’m-” What were you trying to do? Well of course you wanted to date Mark, but the mole guy didn’t need to know that… But it seemed as though he already knew that.

“Listen I work in the cat center here, and us cat people know these things. So it’s better if you just lay off Mark.”

“You work in the cat center?” He nodded his head and looked at you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “How do you think I knew you were passing by every day?”

You mentally face palmed yourself as you realized that when walking by the animal shelter, the window does not cover just the reception desk, but the cat adoption center as well. Not only had you been walking by Mark every day, but apparently this guy too. “Well that’s beside the point. I’m not going to lay off Mark, just because some random guy told me to. For all I know you might not even really know him!”

He sighed, “Listen I might as well tell you this, because either way you’ll find out once you go home and stalk him on social media, but Mark just got out of a long term relationship. And he’s kind of still hoping that they’ll get back together. Haven’t you noticed that he hasn’t caught on that you’ve been coming in here so much?”

Hearing this, your heart fell a bit. Not as much as you thought it would, but you still felt a piece of it chip away. “I-I just thought maybe he wasn’t very observant.”

“Well, that’s true… but he’s also just so invested in his ex he hasn’t really paid attention to anyone else.”

A tight smile came to your face and you wanted nothing more than for the moment to just be over. You already embarrassed yourself enough and standing in front of this guy you barely knew only made things worse somehow. “I-I should just go then. There’s no reason for me to be here then. Thanks for all your… help.”

He got up from his chair, and moved around the desk to grab your wrist, just as you began to turn towards the door. Startled at his sudden closeness, you looked into his eyes. For the first time since you came in, you felt him shy away from you a bit, not having the same confidence and cocky attitude as before. Searching his eyes, you felt him wanting to say something to you, but not knowing exactly how to say it.

He cleared his throat, “you can come and stalk me as much as you like.”

“I wasn’t stalk-“ You stopped yourself from finishing when his words finally caught up to you, “w-what?”

He rolled his eyes at you, “do I really have to say it again? Are you going to make me?”

You stepped back from his grasp, “sorry I’m just a little confused.”

He closed his eyes tightly as if cursing at himself for going about this the wrong way. You laughed at his frustration over the situation, it was actually… kind of cute?

With his eyes still closed, “why don’t we just start over? You know before I-” you cut him off before he could finish, “ruined my harmless crush?”

His eyes shot open, “okay harmless? You were coming in here almost every other day and watching him through the window when you walked by every day!”

“For your information I only came in once a week!”

He blinked twice and thrusted his hand forward, “I’m Jaebeom.”

This was not how you expected this day to go at all. You thought at worst Mark would just ignore you and at best you would maybe end up with a coffee date. What was even happening?

Reluctantly, you took Jaebeom’s hand in yours. You told him your own name and felt Jaebeom’s hand draw back. “I-I know actually,” he paused, “we kind of go to the same university. I’ve seen you around campus a couple of times and then when I noticed you passing by here I kind of just you know…”

“stalked me?” You finished for him.

Jaebeom took a step back in panic, “n-no! I was not stalking you! I just looked you up online… You know… just through a friend of a friend’s profile.” He mumbled the last part.

“Oh so a completely normal thing to do, right?” You teased.

He sighed deeply and looked at the ground, shaking his head. “Ugh I probably shouldn’t even be saying this, because it’s so embarrassing… but I thought you recognized me from school and that’s why you had been passing by here,” he avoided making eye contact and kept his head down towards the floor, “then when you come in and I saw the way you asked Mark all those random questions, I realized it wasn’t for me.”

Finally, Jaebeom looked up at you and gave you a shy smile. You took in his facial features which at first had seemed sharp and cruel, but his nervous and almost bashful behavior in front of you made you see how gentle he truly was. His eyes looked into yours sadly, as if he waited for you to make fun of him.

“You know… It’s not that often that I have a stalker. I really have to make the most of this.”

He groaned, “I wasn’t stalking!”

“Sound familiar?”

“Okay maybe I was a little.”

You smiled, “how far did you get on my Instagram?”

His eyes widened and he raised his voice, “yah! I’m not that much of a creep!” You raised your eyebrows at him and he gave in, simply muttering, “your senior prom, 2015. Your friend was your date.” He avoided all eye contact once again and you had to stop yourself at giggling at how cute he was.

You straightened your posture as you channeled your utmost confidence, “Verve is my favorite coffeeshop.”

Jaebeom looks at you confused, “what?”

“It’s my favorite coffeeshop and I may or may not be there after you get off your shift,” you shrugged and took a step towards him, “isn’t that something stalkers want to know?”

He smiled, looking into your eyes and took a step forward as well, “I guess it is.”

Your closeness to Jaebeom was interrupted by the ring of the front door’s bell, signaling the arrival of someone in the shelter. Both of you took a step back.

“I know I said I couldn’t come in today and that’s why I begged you to cover me but I had to come back because I left my metro card when I locked up last night.”

Both you and Jaebeom turned to the front to see Mark quickly rushing in, immediately darting behind the front desk in search of his metro card, paying no mind to you.

“Ah! Found it! I knew it was here. You know how annoying it is to just walk everywhere? It’s like- If I’m paying monthly for this thing, might as well use it and not forget it at wor-” In the midst of his rant, Mark paused when he noticed you and Jaebeom together.

Mark blushed embarrassedly, “sorry I didn’t realize you were with a customer Jae.”

Jaebeom looked from Mark to you and wondered if you would forget all about him and simply return to having Mark be the object of your affection. “Yeah man, I was just trying to help her-”

You cut Jaebeom off, “actually I’m not a customer.”

Jaebeom looked at you confused and Mark spoke up, just as perplexed, “oh?”

“I come in here all the time and pass by every single day on my way home from school.”

Mark looked at you as though you were crazy, “and why is that?” Smiling you answered him, “because I have a crush on someone who works here.”

“No way! Who? Jinyoung? Yugyeom? I bet it’s Jackson…” he paused and took a step back to look at you, “you look like a Jackson girl.”

You moved closer to Jaebeom and softly grabbed his hand. He looked at you in shock as if he couldn’t believe that you’d choose him over Mark. “Nope not them.”

Mark looked at your hand in Jaebeom’s and his eyes widened, “what! Jae? Wow… That’s actually really cute,” he pouted for a moment, “I wish someone would come in to see me everyday. Hana would never do that for me. You’re lucky Jaebeom. Hold on to this one!”

You felt Jaebeom stroke his thumb against the top of your hand, he smiled.

“Oh trust me, I will.”

#got7 #got7 fic #got7 fanfic #got7 au #im jaebeom

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lateasalways · 4 years

Text

(Damn, I had to make a new post because something weird happened to the cut when I edited, it went into the ask itself and isn’t working and I can’t fix it lmao, sorry!)

Anon asked:

it would be interesting to me if you made a post about the elton books you have read. like how they differ and your opinion on them. ive only read Me but im interested in finding some other reads

Hi! I’m sorry this took so long, I’ve suddenly been CRAZY busy with work now that there’s proper concerts happening again (and yay for that), but Anon, you have no idea how much I would like to answer that question and I’ve been thinking about it all week lmao, I think it’s super interesting to look at the differences between them. So of course I went amok and wrote way too long so just bare with me.

I’ve read 5 books in full and I’ve listed them in the order in which I read them.

1. Me by Elton John. You’ve all read that so I don’t have to explain it. It was the first one I read and my fav thing about it is how funny it is, and of course it’s very personal and therefore more emotional than some of the others. I absolutely love it and I honestly haven’t read a book that has engaged me so much in yeeeeaars, I would recommend that book to anyone, not only Elton fans.

2. Captain Fantastic by Tom Doyle. This book focuses on the 70s (but also includes his childhood/youth). I thought it was a great supplement to Me, because many of the same stories are in there, but since the time span is shorter, it’s more detailed, and we get to hear other people’s versions of the events. What I particularly found interesting is the part about Elton breaking through in America. He’s always described it as sheer luck and being at the right place at the right time himself, and I’m sure that’s his experience of it, but that’s not what happened. I find that extremely fascinating. Here we get to hear from his first American label who basically got Empty Sky for free because it had been rejected by many others. Before they got the chance to release it Elton John came out which is obviously a step up production wise and they dropped everything and started pushing that album instead. Everyone at the label thought it was so great they really went all in with the promotion and managed to create a hype even though he was a complete unknown and that’s how he got the Troubadour gig. This book in several ways I think show that Elton is too humble when it comes to his talent, like you don’t get to headline over established and popular artists before the most important people in the industry as an unknown by sheer luck. It happened because the album was so great, the label were convinced he was going to be a star and they went for it. I really liked the book in general. Even though there is no shocking new info there, it shines a different light on several stories from Me which I find very interesting.

3. Sir Elton by Philip Norman. This book is about his life up until 1991 and it’s really long and super detailed, like some impressive work went into this one. (I listened to the audio book on scribd as they had a 30-day free trial because of corona, I don’t know if that’s still an offer but if it is I really recommend it.) It’s a bit weird because on one side the author managed to detail and capture Elton’s personality SO well (he’s said so himself too) and the way he writes makes some of the stories so vivid it almost felt like watching a movie. I actually found myself getting as emotional as I did reading Me at several points, like I literally shed tears here and there. But then on the other side, there are several things that bothers me a lot about this book. First of all it seems like Norman for some reason think Stanley was a great father and is trying to convince us that Elton is wrong about everything he’s said about him. Like, why? He’s clearly talked a lot with his 2nd wife Edna and her perspective is obviously very different from Elton’s. But some of his points are just really weird like f.x. he says that Elton says his dad didn’t care about him but this is wrong because he actually had a framed photo of him in his room when he was in the RAF. Like….????? How does that prove anything? As long as Elton didn’t know about it, it means fuck all! You don’t get a gold star because you keep a framed photo of your only son wtf? Another example: One Christmas after the divorce Elton didn’t get a present or a card or anything. But this was because they had very little money and their new son was ill. Well that’s sad, but Elton didn’t know that? You could at least have called and explained it or just sent a card to let him know you were thinking of him too? The whole problem is that he didn’t SHOW that he loved him or was proud of him, he can have as many framed photos he likes but that doesn’t matter when you never show any kind of affection. Another example cause I’m on a roll: Edna says Elton in fact enjoyed his visits to them (which he himself has said he hated) she says he used to sit alone and play with their typewriter. That sounds sad AF??? Why are you trying to convince me this is great parenting? I know it was a different time but fuck! One thing I do believe though is that Sheila probably helped along the narrative that Stanley was awful, I think it’s very likely that she has exaggerated or even made up stories about him, but that’s not Elton’s fault. Another downside with the book (imo) is that Norman is apparently the world’s biggest fan of Dick James and there’s just sooo much boring stuff about Dick James there, I’m sorry but when he starts talking about Dick James I recommend you fast forward. The whole point is to set up the court case between him and Elton that happened in the 80s (in which he clearly thinks Dick was in the right) but I’m just not interested in that at all. If you are though, this is the book for you lol. Then there’s the things the author got wrong. First of all, he didn’t know about Elton’s drug use which is quite essential. Although you can easily read between the lines of what the interviewees are saying, so it’s not that distracting. Second, he seems to believe that Elton is actually bisexual which he obviously isn’t (and before I get accused of bi-erasure, he has said so himself time and time again that he’s never been interested in women and his coming out as bi in 76 was a “chicken out”) and it really bothered me cause it reads a bit homophobic to me as he seems to believe Sheila when she said that he “wouldn’t have been gay if it weren’t for show business.” So I’m a bit conflicted about this book. It has more negatives than the others but the good parts are SO SO GOOD. I would be very interested in hearing other people’s opinions about it.

4. Elton John by David Buckley. Another one I listened to on Scribd. This is a quite new one so certain things have come to light which makes it more accurate. It’s another book that didn’t have a lot of groundbreaking new information, but he’s for some reason the only one who’s talked to Gary Osbourne and he has a lot of interesting things to tell. I think Gary deserves more credit and he was very close to Elton in a very interesting part of his career/life so it’s worth reading for that. This book is also about his whole life but way shorter than Sir Elton so obviously not as detailed, but there’s some fun stuff and new anecdotes in there.

5. Elton, my Elton by Gary Clarke. Gary was Elton’s on/off boyfriend between 1982 and 83 (ish) and obviously knows him in a way these other authors don’t. I was a bit unsure about reading this as I think it’s a bit tasteless to expose someone to that extent (and he goes into some seriously intimate details), but otoh I felt like it was kind of the missing puzzle piece so I bought it in the end (on ebay) and I can’t really say if it actually answered the questions I had or just gave me more. I thought Elton was weird before reading this and it certainly didn’t make me think he’s any less weird. It starts kind of cute, it almost reads like one of those self-insert popstar fanfics at first (not that I’ve ever purposely read any of that but you know, it’s hard to be on tumblr without stumbling upon that stuff now and again) but then it gets really dark. Which is because Elton apparently was clean when they first met but then after some time he started spiraling, so it’s just… it actually made me a bit nauseous tbh and it’s so frustrating too, I genuinely yelled “Elton, no!” out loud at one point lmao. But I have already talked at length about this book, particularly what I found disturbing about it and you can find that post here. If you’re interested in reading this book though, you should be warned there’s some rapey content, (though to be clear, that has nothing to do with Elton) and dubious consent.

So anon, since you’re looking for some further reading, these are all good and interesting books I think. It’s a bit hard to say which one I liked best because obviously, for every book I read there’s less new info. But then all of the books have stories I hadn’t heard before so they’re all worth reading if you’re crazy obsessive like me and wants to know absolutely everything lol. I really enjoyed reading all of them (well enjoy isn’t the right word for Gary’s book but yk.) so I guess you should just consider what sounds more interesting to you and go for that :) If you take away the negatives I think Sir Elton is probably the one I enjoyed the most, while Elton, my Elton is the most revealing. Elton John is more complete while Captain Fantastic is really good if you’re more interested in the 70s and his breakthrough.

Thank you so much for the ask! I hope you found what you were looking for and enjoy some further reading! To anyone else who might be reading this: if you have thoughts on any of these books or things you want to discuss, please, my inbox is open! :D

#Anonymous #ask

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rydiin · 4 years

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NC does really like watched kardashian,do you think he like one of them as women?

I mean I’m sure he thought they were fine and all but I don’t think he was like obsessed with any of them . but yo I’m still waiting on the reason as to why he stumbled upon this video and also WHY the FDLE felt the need to tell us? Lmaooo like have you ever thought about that? He had so much in his browsing history and this was the summary for a whole 48 hours of browsing and they only included like 10 things and a kardashian video was one of them?! they chose what information to reveal so why include that out of all things 😂

Idk how yals mind works but whenever I read reports or presentations by LE or any investigators looking into cases, I’m constantly trying to figure out why they choose to reveal the info they do, because you KNOW there’s a purpose behind it all. They’re calculated. Like his photos for example, they purposefully chose the photos that make him look like a crazed gun nut. Like the ONE selfie they showed without a gun/tactical gear is one where he legit looks like joker with that freaky smile. So you know they were mainly listing internet history that they found relevant or fed into the image that they’re pushing. [im not saying their agenda is wrong or that they’re trying to make him look bad as if he needs any help with that, i just think it’s useful to think about the motive behind the info we’re receiving].

Sorry for the rant, I know you werent asking for it so I apologize for being annoying

#asks

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agirlinhell-a · 6 years

Text

MAINS & SHIPPING EXCLUSIVES

Introduction

So I think it’s about time I reached out to find people who are interested in pursuing super close connections with me.. So here it is, the shiny new updated proposition - I am looking for mains/exclusive writing partners be it of any kind. I love continuity in threads, and I love having people who are interested in having me throw ideas and headcanons at them at any time. I absolutely adore having people get as excited as I am. Therefore, by liking this post, I assume that you have read my rules and have a basic understanding of Clementine’s character by reading through her pages. I also take it that you are interested in interacting with my muse to develop possible relationships (positive or negative, platonic or romantic) with her.

What’s this?

Being my main means I’ll get to “pester” you a lot, post random small starters and send asks whenever my character is in need of yours. When I receive memes that require a certain muse (such as “kiss x muse” for example), I’ll immediately go for my mains. They are my priority, and our interactions affect Clementine’s timeline. This means that Clementine will often think of your character even when you, the mun, are not part of a thread or a post. Your muse will be in Clementine’s thoughts and heart and they affect her timeline. Clementine and said main’s relationship can consist of friends, lovers, enemies, rivals, old mentors, old friends, friends with benefits, exes, colleagues, students, people she works with now, people she stumbles upon, there are many possibilities! I will be accepting canon characters, canon-divergent characters, original characters and characters from other fandoms. This however, does not mean I am exclusive unless if we, as muns, agree on this. Even if I have a main of your character, for example, I can still roleplay with you and will gladly do so. Please don’t let the fact that I have a mains list put you off. I will gladly interact with the “duplicates” of the characters listed here. This list only indicates that these people will TAKE PRECEDENCE when it comes to plotting, threads, memes, and generally writing together. So please don’t ever hesitate to write with me if you’re not listed here.

On the context of ships, we don’t have to have interacted before but I do want us to be mutuals. However, we must have enough interaction for me to get a feel for Clementine’s feelings towards your muse before shipping should be discussed. I prefer to ship chemistry over anything else. Please keep in mind that Clem is NOT an easy person to ship with. Note that I am multiship and therefore, it’s not considered “cheating” because these characters, unless stated otherwise, will have a separate verse, and none of these affect Clementine’s current default storyline.

What are advantages that mains have that others do not?

Priority. When you reply, your reply will be prioritized. This means if I have a verse I want to try, or if I have a ton of replies to write and not a ton of time to do those replies, yours will be done first. If you like a starter call, yours get done first. If you send in a meme, yours will get done first. You get priority. By doing this, you’re going to get a ton of inspirational posts from me. I will tag you in graphics, in quotes, in songs. I will send you headcanons, alternate universes and plot ideas. I like to make edits, aesthetics, promos, pinterest boards, playlists - everything. I like to put personal tags on my blog, to suit specific storylines with people. Most of the time, mains will have those attached to anything I tag them in, for organizational reasons. Sometimes, this can lead to ships, be it platonic, romantic or otherwise. Sometimes, it might just make you my favorite person. I care so deeply about my threads and partners that I enjoy keyboard smashing about them, so I just ask that people are equally as invested in them as I am and that I’m not some new trophy to a collection. If I feel like you are bored, annoyed, or “done” with my muse, but are too chicken to tell me, (or can’t decide what you want from me/my muse) I will just leave you be, and not tag posts or respond to things anymore. It’s simple; I am not one to play games and use muses as speaking devices for my displeasure, nor will I stick around if my muse isn’t wanted anymore. You can’t “bookmark” ships for “later” either. Not interacting for weeks to months is not normal. So mixed-signal games don’t work with me anymore. Instead of causing OOC drama, I will simply bow out and wait for you to make the next adult move. I won’t chase you around if you are secretly waiting for me to do everything and read your minds. So if you can’t make the decision to end something, I will be the one to do it. My muse is no one’s “filler” ship or trophy. This is not first come, first serve.

I like to tie storylines in amongst other threads I have, though this is not obligatory. That already happens for some of my threads right now. If you’re a main, I will come to you for judgment on how your muse would react to a situation or whether or not it would be out of character to act a certain way, to refer to our plot development when addressing connections between muses, etc. I will recommend you to writing partners of mine. I love threads with multiple people attached. I love to gush about writing partners, I love consistency, and I love it all.

Rules attached to mains are pretty simple - at most I will take three but this is unlikely, I don’t expect exclusivity unless we explicitly agree on that, and that you’re excited about the relationship between the muses, too. If we are exclusive, I would just ask that you let me know if that is no longer working for you. Literally, just communicate that to me, and I don’t mind if we have to drop a thread for your own comfort. I like to think I’m pretty easy to work with as a writing partner. If you indicate that you’re interested in being mains and we don’t currently have something set up, I will approach you to plot something, and we can go from there. Likely, I won’t list you as a main until there’s been some degree of writing interaction between us. Sorry, but I’m just speaking from a logical perspective here.

Want to be my main?

Before we become mains, I wish for us to talk OOC and have at least a few interactions so we can “feel” each other’s interpretation of our characters. This is just so we can see if we feel comfortable roleplaying together and if our muses have chemistry, because once we are mains I will send you many asks and make starters, for I assume that if we accepted to be each other’s main means we’re friends and like each other’s writing, therefore we should feel comfortable to “pester” the other as much as we wish. Please feel free to contact me if you would like to be mains. All I ask is for you to be reasonably ACTIVE, and for us to have written together / established some sort of relationship between our characters, be it friends, enemies, lovers, etc. If you become inactive without telling me the reason why for weeks or months, then you will be removed from the current list. If you start drama with me, then you will be removed. So, if you want to be my main, smash that heart, IM me or send an ask so we can discuss it. Thank you for taking the time to read this! Please enjoy your day and stay safe, you have all my love! ♥♥♥

CURRENT MAINS AS FOLLOWS THUS FAR BELOW (IF THERE IS A * BESIDE THEM, THIS INDICATES EXCLUSIVITY FOR CANON CHARACTERS). SHIPS WILL BE ADDED IN ANOTHER SECTION ON MY BLOG.

CANON CHARACTERS:

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS:

#MAINS.

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persiciflorebellator · 6 years

Text

MAINS & SHIPPING EXCLUSIVES

Introduction

It’s been a long time since I’ve brought this up, but I’m about to add and update my mains section, so I think it’s about time I reached out to find people who are interested in pursuing super close connections with me because whenever I would reblog my old mains post, hardly anyone would like it. So here it is, the shiny new updated proposition - I am looking for mains/exclusive writing partners be it of any kind. I love continuity in threads, and I love having people who are interested in having me throw ideas and headcanons at them at any time. I absolutely adore having people get as excited as I am. Therefore, by liking this post, I assume that you have read my rules and have a basic understanding of Toka's character by reading through her pages. I also take it that you are interested in interacting with my muse to develop possible relationships (positive or negative, platonic or romantic) with her.

Personal and ask/rp blogs, please don’t reblog!

What’s this?

Being my main means I’ll get to "pester" you a lot, post random small starters and send asks whenever my character is in need of yours. When I receive memes that require a certain muse (such as “kiss x muse” for example), I’ll immediately go for my mains. They are my priority, and our interactions affect Toka’s timeline. This means that Toka will often think of your character even when you, the mun, are not part of a thread or a post. Your muse will be in Toka's thoughts and heart and they affect her timeline. Toka and said main's relationship can consist of friends, lovers, enemies, rivals, old mentors, old friends, friends with benefits, exes, colleagues, students, people she works with now, people she stumbles upon, there are many possibilities! I will be accepting canon characters, canon-divergent characters, original characters and characters from other fandoms. This however, does not mean I am exclusive unless if we, as muns, agree on this. Even if I have a main of your character, for example, I can still roleplay with you and will gladly do so. Please don’t let the fact that I have a mains list put you off. I will gladly interact with the "duplicates" of the characters listed here. This list only indicates that these people will TAKE PRECEDENCE when it comes to plotting, threads, memes, and generally writing together. So please don’t ever hesitate to write with me if you’re not listed here. I do not have exclusives, except with ships. If you are a multimuse blog, then please state which muse you’d like to have as a main on this list. Like I said, I will gladly write with various versions of the same character. But if we’re shipping together, yours will be the only one I ship with.

On the context of ships, we don’t have to have interacted before but I do want us to be mutuals. However, we must have enough interaction for me to get a feel for Toka’s feelings towards your muse before shipping should be discussed. I prefer to ship chemistry over anything else. Please keep in mind that Toka is NOT an easy person to ship with. Note that I am multiship and therefore, it’s not considered “cheating” because these characters, unless stated otherwise, will have a separate verse, and none of these affect Toka’s current default storyline.

What are advantages that mains have that others do not?

Priority. When you reply, your reply will be prioritized. This means if I have a verse I want to try, or if I have a ton of replies to write and not a ton of time to do those replies, yours will be done first. If you like a starter call, yours get done first. If you send in a meme, yours will get done first. You get priority. By doing this, you’re going to get a ton of inspirational posts from me. I will tag you in graphics, in quotes, in songs. I will send you headcanons, alternate universes and plot ideas. I like to make edits, aesthetics, promos, pinterest boards, playlists - everything. I like to put personal tags on my blog, to suit specific storylines with people. Most of the time, mains will have those attached to anything I tag them in, for organizational reasons. Sometimes, this can lead to ships, be it platonic, romantic or otherwise. Sometimes, it might just make you my favorite person. I care so deeply about my threads and partners that I enjoy keyboard smashing about them, so I just ask that people are equally as invested in them as I am and that I'm not some new trophy to a collection. If I feel like you are bored, annoyed, or "done" with my muse, but are too chicken to tell me, (or can’t decide what you want from me/my muse) I will just leave you be, and not tag posts or respond to things anymore. It’s simple; I am not one to play games and use muses as speaking devices for my displeasure, nor will I stick around if my muse isn’t wanted anymore. You can’t “bookmark” ships for “later” either. Not interacting for weeks to months is not normal. So mixed-signal games don’t work with me anymore. Instead of causing OOC drama, I will simply bow out and wait for you to make the next adult move. I won’t chase you around if you are secretly waiting for me to do everything and read your minds. So if you can’t make the decision to end something, I will be the one to do it. My muse is no one’s “filler” ship or trophy. This is not first come, first serve.

Want to be my main?

CURRENT MAINS AS FOLLOWS THUS FAR BELOW (IF THERE IS A * BESIDE THEM, THIS INDICATES EXCLUSIVITY FOR CANON CHARACTERS). SHIPS WILL BE ADDED IN ANOTHER SECTION ON MY BLOG.

CANON CHARACTERS:

Orochimaru: @masshirohebi*

Uzuki Yugao: @kaless39

Tenten: @colossvs*

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS:

Uchiha Haruhi: @13lilypetals

#outofillusions {Angie speaks}#hELLO YOU LITTLE NUGGETS #GUESS WHO'S BACK

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