#I'm guessing that's an intentional statement on their part

[nugothrhythms]

"Torn Apart" from a 2022 double release by Belfast, Ireland-based spooky synth and post-punk act The Funeral Rose

[cupidkenji]

Doctor, Doctor, please listen!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Tension (I tried), cursing, the smallest physical description of reader in the last portion (just mentions their stomach going over their pants), reader has scars from previous cases, rivals to lovers?, lmk if i'm missing smth Summary: 3 times you called him doctor, 3 times he wonders why. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but I don't really ever describe their bodies that much cause it's x READER and every body has a different body <3 WC: 3,596 I am literally so obsessed with criminal minds somebody save my soul OBLIVOUS IDIOTS WHO WANT EACH OTHER MY BELOVED. Title from mad hatter by Melanie Martinez don't even @ me for that

1.

“...she will be an important part of making your team function quicker. We fought hard to get her here. I ask that you all treat her with respect and not make me intervene.” 

Strauss finished her introductory spiel with a familiar “mom-glare” towards the team, walking away once she finished her speech. Unfortunately, her departure left you standing alone in front of the most intimidating man you’ve ever seen and four of his team members. You had been practically still until now. You hated the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, causing a general freeze response to the stress of a new team. Fawn, you thought, the newest addition to the fight or flight categories and also the lovely thing forcing you to practically disassociate in front of your new boss and co-workers. 

“Welcome, Dr. L/N. We’ve heard good things. I’m Aaron Hotchner, I supervise the team.” He was leaning on the table before he stepped forward to shake your hand as he spoke. “This is Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid.” He pointed towards the corresponding people as he spoke of them. “Agent Rossi is away right now, and you’ll meet our T.I. later…she’s been excited.” If you hadn’t been good at your job, you’re sure you would have missed the way his lips turned up slightly at the edges when mentioning the woman. He didn’t seem so scary anymore, more like a father of the team. You’d been expecting a drill sergeant - your last team leader could have given a bull a run for it’s money with how much aggression that guy had. You welcomed the rush of excitement you felt at the discovery, mentally shaking off the stiffness you were carrying. 

“I’m happy to be here, sir. I’ve heard good things about the team, too. Your boss seems to think highly of your capabilities.” You addressed the room as you spoke. Public speaking was a skill you were still trying to master, so you practiced whenever you could. 

Your statement earned a chuckle from the table. Nobody bothered to explain the reason. You figured it was too much history to sum up on the spot. Your eyes wanted to linger on Reid. He seemed so young, and you wondered if he’d been told that his entire career - lord knows you had too. A fellow doctor. You assumed he was a bit of a stickler about the title, as even his boss kept it tacked onto his name when introducing him. You’d originally hoped to find some comfort in the man, on the surface he seemed a lot like you. He was probably too smart for his own good as well. Given the way he was staring at you, though, you felt the realization sink in that the man had no intention of welcoming you. 

“Why exactly do we need another profiler?” His voice held no malice as he spoke in the direction of his boss. There was more curiosity in his voice than anything, however you did pick up on the sense of superiority that sat just beneath the surface of his words. You guessed that’s how he behaved generally - as though he was superior. Still, your head tilted slightly to the side at the question. 

Damn. Tough crowd. 

You saw the intake of breath in Hotchner as he prepared to defend your place here but you spoke before he could start. “While I am a profiler, sir, first and foremost I am a psychiatrist - a doctor. As I’m sure you heard from Strauss, the board is unhappy with your recent efficiency rates and would also like to aid your team in dealing with mental health crises. I’ve spent my entire life studying the effects and conditions of the mentally diseased brain. I’ll be able to tell you the most efficient and effective way of interacting with these individuals, along with more accurately predicting their actions and methodology. I’m an agent, I took the same oath everyone here did but I was brought here for my expertise.” You were on a bit of a tangent, you knew that, but something about the smug feel of the man forced an emergence of competitiveness. He looked at you so indifferent, and you couldn’t help the tiny sparks of anger lighting beneath your skin. You kept a friendly disposition towards the man - you were a professional, after all, not a teenager - but you sensed a rivalry sprouting it’s roots.

The others at the table suppressed their smiles or looked down to hide it. Nobody had ever challenged Spencer like that. They could all feel he was a tad bit territorial. He was the guy people went to when they needed to know something. He was the Doctor of the group. They didn’t think he would take too kindly to another one encroaching his land. They saw the way he was tense, even more so after you responded. It was a riveting sight, though. The lot of them saw Spencer as a younger brother, and him meeting his match was something they were all so excited to see.

“Play nice, pretty boy.” Derek muttered to him, Spencer was slightly slouched in his chair now, not losing sight of you. Derek followed suit, turning his attention towards you. “We’re glad to have you, Doctor. We’ve spoken about an addition like you before, I’m glad to see the higher ups finally listened. I look forward to working with you - excuse me.” He left once his phone rang. 

The others took his exit as an excuse for their own, everyone giving you a warm welcome as they left. You reciprocated happily, telling everyone they could just call you by your first name, never having been one for titles. ‘There’s one difference.’ You thought, even your internal dialogue was bitter. Aside from him, there was a warmth here that you had been desperate to find in your last team. If you had to work passive aggressively with one uptight man in exchange for a team like this - you were going to take that deal. 

He refused to leave it seemed. He just sat looking inquisitively at the table, occasionally extending his stare to look at you before returning. How did you two end up alone in this room?

“Are you gonna have a problem with me, Doctor?” You shifted slightly on your feet. A notoriously nervous sign, one he definitely picked up on.

He stared again. It was his mind that kept him rooted in his seat. You were fucking alluring. He’d never met someone so like himself in his line of work. He was being a dick and he knew it but it seemed to be instinctual - some type of precaution, maybe. He didn’t know why you were being so respectful. Doctor. God, he didn’t know if the title had ever sounded so good being directed at him. His frustration only rose as he thought on the issue more. He wasn’t welcoming, it would be so easy to drop the formality, something he knew you knew would get on his nerves. But you didn’t. It didn’t seem like a question of dignity. You didn’t seem like the type to refuse a little pettiness - he sure wasn’t the type either. A thought stirred, an unsafe one he wanted to squash immediately but one he also couldn’t help but lean into. Did you want a power imbalance?

“No.” He stood abruptly, obviously still focused on the thoughts in his head. “Welcome to the team.” He addressed you one last time and then walked out of the room.

You followed shortly after, ready to make home on your couch and be done with being the newbie for the day. Your stress would follow you home, though, as the last thing you heard before you left the building was “Oh my god they’re perfect for each other.”

2.

The first few weeks were always the hardest. This was something you knew and were prepared for but it did nothing to calm your nerves. You’d been on countless missions having worked this job for a while now, but this was an entirely new dynamic to learn. You were an outsider for the first time in four years and it was scary. This case was shaping up to be a rough one, too. A man was having delusions telling him to kill. An extremely rare manifestation of his Schizophrenia, only elevated by the newly acquired aspect of him being an insomniac. 

Spencer hadn’t ceased being headstrong in cases either. Every time you wanted to help he made it his mission to overcompensate in order to snuff you out. On the contrary, he’d warmed up to you a little. It wasn’t major, he barely held any positive feelings toward you, but barely was better than not at all, so you coped. You two had managed a couple small talk conversations outside the battle of one-upping that you were currently losing. You absolutely hated it, but you liked him. You liked him a lot, actually. You don’t know when in the past few days that anger morphed into fondness but it had shifted hard. The casual dominance he exuded drew you in like a porchlight lures a moth. You doubted the opposite proved true for him, and that stung. You came to enjoy the banter, the competition, even if you were always playing the losing hand. It was the only way to get his undivided attention and the feeling of his eyes on you started to follow you home. 

You thought a lot about how you could get the relationship to pivot into something better. You didn’t want to be the girl he bickered with at work. You didn’t know what it was you wanted but you knew that your current fate sounded horrid. He was an ass, though, and he did not make it easy to admit those feelings. Every time he undermined you, you grew more attached and also more angry at yourself for doing so. It was because he’s so much like you, you thought. You knew from the way he interacted with his team that he wasn’t a cold guy, didn’t hold malice towards people for no reason. He needs time. He needs to know you, and God how badly you wanted to know him. 

You had sustained good relations with everyone the past few weeks you’ve been here. Meeting Garcia and Rossi had been a treat - both of them being delightful company. You’d heard them whispering about you and Spencer when they thought you weren’t around. The whole team seems to think that you’re basically fated to be together. It was unnerving how comforting that thought was to you. You hoped they were right. 

Spencer hoped they were right too. He’d heard the same whispers you had, chastising the team when he got the chance as if he didn’t think about you every moment he could. His eyes seemed to naturally land on you if you were around. He watched you walk around the bureau more and more lately, enjoying the gained confidence in your step as you cemented your place in the team. The sway of your hips or the swing of your arms. You mesmerized him no matter what you did. One time he got so caught up in his thoughts of you that Prentiss had to check he wasn’t having a silent panic attack. He clung to his sense of resentment, tried so hard to remind himself of the feelings he had when he first met you - you were beautiful, of course you were - but you were on claimed land and he was anything but eager for you to make home on it. That had faded fast, seeing how kind you were, scrambling to help and earn respect from everyone. The only reason he kept up the act of  “man who wants you gone” was so that he could keep talking to you. Spencer was a genius but he didn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’d been interested in girls before, hell he’d had girlfriends before but it had never felt like this in such little time. Such intense infatuation was crippling for someone who’s brain worked in patterns - this was new ground for him. 

“Everybody suit up. We have Foster’s location and we need to move quickly. He’s going after the source of his rage and we don’t have time to spare.” Hotch came down the stairs two at a time, spurring the team into action. 

“This man is highly dangerous but also highly deluded. The cases I’ve read similar to this say it’s best to speak gently. He’s sick but he can be reasoned with.” Spencer pulls from his memory as he sets his ‘FBI’ vest into place on his chest. 

“No, not this time. This man is too severe, his mind is too far gone. If these hallucinations of his are strong enough for him to touch them it’ll be extremely easy for him to rearrange or imagine your words differently. You need to be loud, direct, and assertive. Speak as little as possible. The quieter you are, the easier it will be for him to change what you’re saying in his head.” You also spoke while putting your vest on. You didn’t carry a weapon - a personal vow of yours, as you were more than classified to - so there were no holsters to fill. The contradictions between the two doctors of the team made everyone hesitate even though they lacked the time to do so.

Spencer looked at you, slightly out of breath from working so quickly. “You’re questioning my memory?” 

“I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor. I’m questioning your sources. There’s a higher risk level if we do what you’re suggesting. Let me do my job.” You made the final adjustments to your attire as you finished speaking. You returned his eye contact for just a beat too long, letting the others rush out of the building while you stood your ground, the two of you begrudgingly following after them a moment later.

You had been assigned a different car than him for the ride over. ‘Thank God’ was the only thing you could think when you saw him heading to the other SUV. After another confrontation - another public one, at that - you weren’t sure you could handle being pressed leg to leg with him in the backseat. Your words were a looping record in his head as he rode towards Foster. They were about to attempt a hostage negotiation with a man seeing people who weren’t there but all he could think about was that fucking word you refused to drop. 

I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor

You had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. He originally believed this had started because you knew stripping him of his beloved title would cause irritation. Now he suspected you knew how badly he wanted his name in your mouth and this was your way of torturing him. ‘It’s working.’ He thought. God was it working. He agreed with his team, you were perfect for him. You had knowledge to match his, kept him on his toes. One time the start of a ramble slipped through his “I don’t like you” façade and he felt his heart speed up at the genuine interest that roused in your eyes. You wanted to know him and he was an idiot for all the shit he was doing. 

He wasn’t surprised when your strategy worked and Ben Foster was taken into custody. You were the one to talk him down, and if you hadn’t already been accepted to the team, he knew then and there that they needed you. You were flawless. He knew you’d been doing this as long as he had and it showed. He pleaded with himself to stay focused, zeroed in on the weight of the gun in his hand to save face. His mind never left you, though, much like his eyes. This was the expertise you spoke of - no wonder they fought hard to get you here. 

“You were excellent in there.” It was just the two of you now. Even in the dull, flashing police lights, you were breathtaking. “Good job.” He said. Then he walked away because he was on the brink of kissing you and didn’t feel like breaking about 18 workplace rules while at the scene of a crime. You wouldn’t have been complaining if he did.

3.

Every time something like this happened it was difficult to remind yourself that not carrying a weapon was a choice you made willingly. You were currently sitting in the back of an open ambulance, about to be hoisted onto a stretcher and driven to the ER for stitches. You’ve been with the BAU for almost 3 months now and have miraculously managed to avoid injury in that time. This had been one of the easier cases. No chases or clues to follow, just a sick man who left a fairly obvious paper trail. You were the speaker on almost all cases. You were in charge of de-escalating a situation, making sure the bomb didn’t blow. You’ve never carried a weapon, always preferring to take the wounds of a job over using a gun to back up your words. You were a psychiatrist, you wanted to make people better, not vilify them. It worked, usually. People did tend to trust you more when you were unarmed. This time, though, it got you stabbed.

It wasn’t a bad injury, the blood had already stopped and was mildly dry by the time Spencer was joining you. Just one more scar to your collection. It was to the side of your quad, missing any artery by miles and just serving as a pain source at this point. A little numbing and some stitches and you’d be right as rain is what the doctor in the ambulance had said. 

“What happened?” He spoke softly to you. There wasn’t a rivalry between you two, not really. The banter hadn’t stopped, but it changed. It was playful and actually fun now. The both of you weren’t obsessed with outdoing the other anymore. Some casual boastfulness and a budding friendship is where you were at with him currently. 

“I got stabbed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

He exhaled like he couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of your answer. You laughed at that. One enjoyable pastime you’d picked up in the past month was trying to bewilder him. The EMT said he needed to check the rest of your body for injury despite your protest of such a procedure. It was typical and you knew that, but you held onto the fear of your own body that middle school gave you. There was a man you liked here, and the thought of him seeing the bit of stomach that hung outside the waistline of your pants scared you more than you thought it would. You forced yourself to be rational in spite of this. It was Spencer, you wanted to be seen by him. 

“Holy shit.”

You chuckled at that. You forgot that maybe a warning was in order for the amount of scars that littered your stomach.

“Probably should have told you about those.” There were dozens. You amassed a countless amount of scars over the course of your job. Stab wounds, bullet grazes, burn marks. Unsubs, as much as you tried to empathize, were often violent at the end of the day and usually lashed out before they could be helped. 

He was staring - well, gazing more like. Not like someone stares at a car accident on the freeway but instead how someone stares at the moon - awe. He was in awe of you. Your strength, your courage, the fact that you went through all these individual events and still chose not to arm yourself. Some of these were in places that could have been fatal, and he thanked whatever entity may be listening that you persevered, begged them to continue that streak. He crashed hard into the desire to touch you, to run his hands over what little of your past he could see. He wondered if you would let him. If you’d fit into his palms the way he thought you would - if that was something you even wanted. The EMT was gone by now, having moved to the passenger seat for the ride to the hospital. 

“Could I - " He hesitated for a moment, this was definitely the wrong question to ask. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes glazed over slightly. Jesus. You felt your lips part a little.

“You want to?” Genuine surprise. You didn’t think you looked particularly desirable in your current state. He wanted to touch your fucking scars. Who does he think he is?

“Please.” He was looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes were glazed over too. You held his eyes as you nodded. The heat was so stifling that you laughed just a little at the tension.

“Fucking hell, Spence.”

Blood shot to his ears when you said his name. It had been well worth the wait to hear you say it like that - breathy and confused and so fucking pretty that he wondered how he ever lived before you said it. 

“Will you tell me about them?” He was breathy too, but he wouldn’t have you here, not like this. He just needed to feel you. 

“I’ll tell you anything you want, Doc.”

His hands were warm. It wouldn’t be the last time you felt them.

[kopykunoichi]

Refresher for the people still confused about this...

In a galaxy far, far away, EVERYONE has midi-chlorians in their blood. The Force resides in all living things. It binds the whole galaxy together. Midi-chlorians are what allow beings to commune with the Force. The more midi-chlorians you have, the more potential you have to RESPOND TO and WIELD the Force. But notice that Asajj couches her statement with the line that those with a higher m-count were "believed" to be more capable of wielding the Force. There's a correlation, but it's not necessarily the only factor (see Sabine Wren).

This is the moment where the clones literally become stand-ins for the fans.

"What? If you can use the Force, you're a Jedi!"

No. If you can use the Force, you can use the Force. To use it as a Jedi uses it, you have to train as a Jedi. To use it as a Sith uses it, you have to train as a Sith. To use it like a Nightsister, you have to train as a Nightsister. Or you can get some rudimentary instruction and decide how you want to use it.

Jango Fett didn't have a high m-count, so his clones didn't either. But Omega and the rest of the Batch were special cases. As Cut said, the Kaminoans create with a purpose. Their deviations were intentional. Hunters abilities have always suggested he had a higher m-count than the others. But Omega's ability to perceive things before they happen (her bad feelings are nearly always spot on) and her affinity with animals have always been hints that her m-count is a little higher.

(Will update with screen grabs when I get them)

At the end of the episode, Omega asks Ventress if she has a high m-count.

Ventress: *looking at her nails* From what I've seen...no.

Omega: Then why is the Empire after me?

Ventress: Believe it or not, I don't know everything. But seeing as how a high m-count would make you a target, consider yourself lucky.

Omega: But I'm already a target.

Wrecker: Don't worry about it, kid. We'll figure it out. C'mon, let's get some chow.

Omega: *sigh* Thanks for trying.

Once they're out of earshot...

Crosshair: You're lying.

Ventress: About which part?

Hunter: You tell us.

Ventress: If Omega did have that potential, she'd have to be trained. Which would mean leaving you behind.

Hunter: That's not happening.

Ventress: What you want is irrelevant. The fact is, the Empire is after her, and they won't stop. If I were you, I'd leave this place. You're not as safe as you think you are. Our business is done.

Crosshair: I still can't figure out which side you're on.

Ventress: My own.

Okay, so Ventress is clearly not telling the truth about the m-count, which we know, because we've already seen Omega's charts. I really don't understand why people keep taking Ventress at her word here. We know better, and so do Crosshair and Hunter. My guess is that she's trying to protect Omega because she knows firsthand what it's like to be taken from your family and trained as a young girl.

We know that when Omega was at Tantiss, she was receiving transfusions of blood with midi-chlorians the same as all the other clones (harvested from the dead Jedi they're undoubtedly holding in the vault). They were taking her blood samples, but Nala Se kept throwing them away because she knew Omega would retain the higher midi-chlorian levels and she didn't want Hemlock to know that. The Emperor needs a clone that will maintain a high m-count so he can eventually get himself a new body. We know he does get that body, but not for decades - presumably because a) he never gets Omega, and b) the Batch is gonna take the fight to them at Tantiss and blow up their entire supply of midi-chlorian donors. Think about it - they're still working on Project Necromancer in The Mandalorian (24 years after The Bad Batch), but their resources are severely limited. The Empire has been all but wiped out, the Emperor is hiding out on Exegol, Dr. Pershing is clearly no Hemlock since he keeps killing his test subjects, and Grogu seems to be the only m-count donor they can get their hands on. The Emperor's cloned body is also deteriorating rapidly in TRoS, which suggests that even 25 years after The Mandalorian, he STILL hasn't figured out the right formula for cloning himself (which is good news for Grogu and Omega).

Which brings us back to the question, "Is Omega Force sensitive?"

The answer is, "yes", she is sensitive to the Force due to her elevated m-count. We've seen this all along. Hunter most likely is, too, and maybe some of the other Bad Batchers, to varying degrees. Tech could riot race, which takes incredible reflexes. Hemlock said that Crosshair didn't have a high m-count, and we don't know where Wrecker's abilities stem from. Omega can't wield the Force because she is untrained, but the potential is there. A person's aptitude to wield the Force seems to be strongly correlated to their m-count, but we've seen others with low aptitude eventually open the door to the Force with years of training and a decent dose of impending doom (we see this clearly with Sabine in Ahsoka, but it was also a topic in Legends).

Omega being Force sensitive doesn't mean that she has to leave her brothers. She can choose to pursue her training or not. She'd also have to find someone willing to train her. I'm not convinced Ventress is looking to take on any apprentices at the moment, but she could possibly connect Omega to Quinlan Voss (imagine the trouble those two would get up to).

But I don't think Omega will choose that path. One, it would just make her a bigger target. Two, I don't see her prioritizing power over family. She's a clone, and clones are ALL about family. They're Mando coded, not Jedi coded. Screw the space Buddhist lifestyle - clones parade their attachments around like trophies. Omega goes around collecting attachments like most kids collect rocks..."Hello, stranger trying to kill me, let's be besties."

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

I'm gonna be honest here: one of the more exhausting parts of the online discourse is how much of a tightrope I am always on, that those of us who care about human rights for all human beings are always on, because any statement made in favor of the "other" side is ripe for tokenism.

I, as a Jew, care about the safety and human rights of Palestinians and Arab Israelis. You will never convince me that there is an ethical way to kill civilians, especially children. You will never convince me that police brutality against citizens marching for their civil rights is necessary. You just can't. And yet I have to be so careful when/where I say that and how I say that, because too often this simple acknowledgement that all people are created in the image of Hashem and should be treated accordingly is ripped out of context and placed between a deluge of other posts denying my people that very same acknowledgement. The number of times I have said these things, only to go into the reblogs and see my words surrounded on all sides with violent antisemitism? I've lost count.

And guess what? It's made me less effective as an advocate, it has actively silenced me from speaking up sometimes, because I refuse to be your "good Jew," your token, somebody whose words can be misconstrued to kasher your vile hatred of my people. And to be very clear: Jewish Israelis are my people just as much as fellow diaspora yidden are, and they deserve better from both goyim and diaspora Jews alike.

And I've seen this go the other way, too: I've seen Palestinian activists and journalists who are trying very hard to balance the values of respecting other people (including Israelis and/or Jews writ large) as fellow human beings with the pain that their people are currently suffering. And I've seen their words ripped out of context and used to excuse more violence against them and their people.

And then there are lots of other people - genuinely well-intentioned people who are trying to learn from me - who keep treating me like I'm some paragon of nuance. I'm trying, truly, but I'm Just Some Guy. You know what I do? It's extremely simple and I promise you can do it too, any of you, if you slow down long enough to think before putting anything out there: "Would I say this about my brother? My mom? My daughter? My people? Would I be happy if the person I loved most on this earth was living under these circumstances and being talked about in whatever way I'm about to speak? Would it feel victim-blaming? Would it feel disrespectful of their struggle or dishonest? Does it ignore their history or trauma? Is it actually helping?" These are the types of questions I try very hard to ask myself every time I post about the conflict, about both sides. I try to talk about this as if the people on both sides were my family. Because truthfully? They are. Am Yisrael is a family, before anything else. Palestinians are our closest cousins. This war is a bloodbath and a tragedy, and everyone is suffering. For those of us who are not living there, please remember this and have some respect.

[golden-moony]

king of my heart | pt. 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

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yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, landonorris, and 74,922 others!

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📞 calling Pato

[yn; normal] [pato; cursive]

"Hi-"

"I'm not gonna lie, you are either very brave or very stupid for calling me right after the videos of your little date with Lando are going viral. Did you get tired of hiding your relationship?"

"...Guess I deserve that."

"[sights] What do you want, yn?"

"I swear I won't take up much of your time. I just want to talk... well, apologize, actually. I'd prefer to do it face to face rather than over the phone but I know that right now I'm probably the last person you wanna see. At least this way, if you don't wanna keep listening to me, you can just end the call."

"Well, I'm very tempted to end the call right now."

"Pato, I-"

"However, I'm also very curious about what you have to say."

"So...?"

"So I'll give you a chance to talk. But I promise you yn, if I hear any lame excuses, I will hang up and block you. Are we clear?"

"Hundred percent clear."

"Then talk."

"Well... first of all, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I promise it was never my intention to hurt you, even if I ended up doing it anyway. I should've told you from the beginning the kind of relationship I had with Lando and I should've been honest with you, especially when my feelings towards you changed to something deeper. I kno-"

"Hold on. What?"

"What do you mean what?"

"What did you just say?"

"That I'm sorry I lied to yo-"

"No, no. The part about your feelings."

"Oh. Well... you heard me. And I don't know why you sound so surprised. I mean, what happened between me and Lando in Spain was a stupid and terrible decision I made, and I should've known better cause my feelings for you were getting stronger."

"Then why did you sleep with him?"

"I... [sights]. I've thought about it a lot in the last few weeks, you know? I was trying to put all the blame on Lando when in the end I was the one who took the initiative. We were just going to talk to end that situationship once and for all, and then I kissed him. And instead of stopping him when he was going for more, I just let it happen cause in my head it was a form of goodbye. Clearly I ended up feeling guilty but the damage was done. And when I could've made things right by telling you the truth about what happened, I didn't. I was embarrassed, but mostly scared of losing the best man I've ever known... but that ended up happening anyway, and I'm to blame for that."

"..."

"Pato?"

"Did you love him?"

"No. We started out as friends and one day I realized I was attracted to him, one night one thing led to another and we became friends with benefits ever since. He didn't want a relationship at that time and neither did I. But in the last few months that changed for me. I wanted a partner, a committed relationship. Lando wasn't that and I was tired of being just a "casual thing". So no. I liked him, but I never loved him."

"So what was that date night about?"

"Just us being adults and having a real and necessary conversation. I had things to apologize for and so did he. I think Lando and I finally found common ground and are ready to move forward... not with each other, just to be clear. Just friends and nothing else."

"For real this time?"

"For real this time. My priorities and my heart are elsewhere."

"Oh, really? Where?"

"I could tell you or I could show you. To be honest, and if you let me, I'd rather show you. You know, actions speak louder than words."

"Yeah, I've heard that. You have any idea?"

"It depends. What are you doing on Friday?"

pacers

liked by elbaoward, tyresehaliburton, arrowmclaren, and 43,942 others!

pacers We had some motorsport representation in the house tonight!

user1 ynpato being hard launched (again?) by the pacers was not on my bingo card but i appreciate it🫶

user2 this is so random and i love it!! user3 the pacers earned my respect after this 🫡 user4 pacers stonks after this hard launch📈📈📈

user5 YNPATO BASKETBALL DATE? WE WON FR

user6 this is like straight out of a movie 😻 user7 THEY'RE SO ROMCOM CODED

user8 NOOO PATO NOT HER AGAIN 😫😫

user9 right? my week has been ruined. user10 keep cryin' haters 😘

indycar Hi yn and pato!! 👋

user11 basket date a few days after her post? she's an icon AND the mastermind fr 💅

user12 context?? user13 user12 her last ig post included a pic of "how to lose a guy in 10 days" and some people were speculating it could mean something, now yn goes with pato to a basketball game just like in the movie 😂 user14 SHE MANIFESTED IT AS THE QUEEN SHE IS🙌

user15 real question is: yourusername did Pato get you a soda?

patriciooward of course i did! 🙄 yourusername not only that but he also got his head in the game😏🏀 user16 I'M LIVING FOR THIS REFERENCES

user17 they make such a beautiful couple omg🥹

user18 are y'all forgetting she was in a date with lando just a few days ago????

user19 she belongs to the streets fr user20 the day y'all understand yn can be friends with lando or anyone is when you'll finally grow up.

user21 not related but she always slays with her outfits🔥

user22 fashion icon for real 🤩 user23 i want her wardrobe so bad😩

user24 YNPATO CONFIRMED 🚀🚀🚀

user25 i just wanna know if pato can fight 🤺

user26 i wanna be her so badly 😩

user27 same girl, same

yourusername posted to their story!

yourusername

liked by arrowmclaren, oscarpiastri, frosenqvist, and 79,889 others!

yourusername And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for. King of my heart, body and soul 🧡

user1 MOM AND DAD ARE THRIVING 😍

user2 and we love to see it! user3 this is their world and we're just living in it

user4 yn is stronger than me cause if Pato looked at me like in the second pic... 😳😳

user5 IKR??? I'M DEAD user6 i was not ready for that, i'm currently on the floor user7 i meaaaan she's dating him, she already won in life

user8 THE CAPTION???? omg they're so cute🥹

user9 YNPATO AND TAYLOR GANG WE WON

user10 relationship goals for real ❤️‍🔥

user11 tired of being a spectator, I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE😭

landonorris if you three weren't that cute i'd try to steal Norbi from you

patriciooward back off, Norris 🤺 landonorris watch out, O'Ward 🤺 yourusername oh hell no mclaren arrowmclaren may i have permission to ground these kids? mclaren you may proceed 😉 patriciooward WHAT landonorris THE BETRAYAL user12 i used to pray for interactions like these 😭😭 user13 user12 we've come so far 😭 user14 WAAAAR IS OOOOVER

user15 yn's living her best life and i'm so happy for her 🤧

elbaoward I don't appreciate being left out of the photo, but I love you lovebirds anyway 💘

yourusername imma post a dump of just beautiful pics of you😘 love u elbaoward i'll be waiting then ☺️ patriciooward i also want a photo dump🥺 yourusername no 😚 user16 i want to belong to this family so bad, do you need a nanny for Norbi or anything?

user17 atp I'm just waiting for the engagement announcement

user18 same but i don't think i'll survive it user19 CAN U IMAGINE? OMG

user20 tag yourself i'm Norbi in the last pic

patriciooward te amo, preciosa ❤️

yourusername love u more, handsome 🥰 user21 AND I LOVE YOU BOTH

taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @evie-119 @evans-dejong @minkyungseokie @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bernelflo @eiaaasamantha @ijustgomessitupx @honethatty12 @daemyratwst @f1fan65 @littlexscarletxwitch @sheslikeacurse @charlottejpg @lichterfee @callsignwidow @phantomxoxo @stinkyjax @rubywingsracing @willowpains @urfavsgf @biitch-with-wifi @lightdragonrayne @illicitverstappen @herebereblogs @tvdtw4ever @nataliambc @norwayxo

author's note: AND THAT'S A WRAP! Thank you so much for giving this story a chance💖 To my Lando girlies, don't be mad! He was a jerk in this story but I'll post another one where he gets the love he actually deserves. And to my Pato girlies, stay tuned! I plan to post more stories with him cause it's what our lovely man deserves. And if you want me to write about some other driver, feel free to send me a request! I'll see what I can do🧡 See y'all soon!

[wolfythewitch]

Hiui it is 8am and I'm on the zcholl bus and my broam has not shut up about them

There's a lot of discourse about the achilles portrayal in the song of achilles which I agree with for the most part because the sanitization I feel erases the suffering of women and slaves the period was built on by minimizing the raping and violent nature of war hero achilles that Homer wrote - - however, I don't think tsoa ought to be read as a stand alone; tsoa is entirely written from patroclus' pov and I think that idealisation of the man is brilliant because of how grossly codependent they were

I think I really liked one redditors take on it, being [in context of 'the silence of girls'; a breseis pov of the iliad, where in achilles participated in the culture which used her as a bed slave of war] The tsoa protector achilles which defended women who mattered to him and was endlessly devoted, and the achilles that was complacent in the ritualistic abuse of the women he enslaved by pillaging their homes are both coexisting, and possibly one and the same

I personally view the Greek cast as sort of vocaloids, they're tools by which we understand the culture of the ancients, the way we envision their interactions is just a means for our practicing the pragmatics of how we come to understand the period

Okay frankly I'm not the best person to discuss this because I've only read like half of tsoa, but there's two disagreements I have I guess, based on what I Have read

One, as much it's not meant to be a standalone or something like that (to me, it is meant to be a standalone), because of its popularity in contemporary media it is being taken as one, and many people will have Achilles and Patroclus' image forever frozen as tsoa' portrayal. God knows how many comments I've gotten on my videos treating tsoa as fact. I can't really blame the author for that, but it is what it is.

Two, the idealization of man through patroclus' eyes would hold more weight if himself was not changed for the narrative either. Patroclus was a soldier, he was a healer, and he also had his fair share of women (who he slept with). Both of them did. Violence was not shied from, and slave women were war prizes. There are these insidious little rewrites throughout the story to further the narrative of Achilles and Patroclus' only loving each other, and in turn erasing what they've done to the other women in the story. (Taking in slave women because they wanted to save them is. A choice.) Deidamia in the myths, they range from at best her and Achilles falling in love to the point of intimacy, and at worst Achilles raping her. In tsoa, Thetis forced Achilles to sleep with her. Deidamia also forced Patroclus to sleep with her. That flip in the narrative is kind of fucked up, seeing as how both in the myths and in tsoa Peleus raped Thetis.

Trying to make a statement that it is written through the idealized eyes of man, well it doesn't really work here. If anything, it feels more like an author writing with the intent of not having her MCs be morally reprehensible. So Patroclus cares when the plot demands it (saving briseis, outrage when she is taken away. Asking Achilles to save the other slave girls) and not when it doesn't affect him (talking about his mother nonchalantly, questioning why thetis hated Peleus when he also acknowledged how Peleus was involved in her rape).

[wosoluver]

Jealousy

Part 2 - previous

Lena Oberdorf x reader

Lena Oberdorf Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Lena's pov

"Morning" I said coming into the locker room the next day. I look around, but I don't see Y/N. Not seeing Ana either, drives me to conclude they are together and already outside.

"You look a bit shitty, no offense." says Giulia.

"Saying 'no offense' after saying the rudest thing ever does not make it less offensive."

"See you didn't get much sleep last night." Lea says, she knows me too well.

"Yeah, I was doing a lot of thinking... and feeling, I guess."

"Want to talk about it?"

"After training?"

She only nodded, walking next to me towards the field.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

We stayed back after training, with the excuse of training penalty shots.

"So?"

"hm, it's not that simple to get out."

"Is it about Y/N?"

"How'd you know?" I ask, lips parted a bit shocked.

She simply laughs, which feels a bit like a mock. Making me twist my brows questionably.

"You're really are oblivious about it! Klara was right!"

"You guys were talking about us?"

"Yeah, at Syd's the other day! Y/N had just defended you, and you basically shut her down. You do that all the time. Every time she tries to hit on you actually."

"She doesn't hit on me! I'm pretty sure she only sees me as a friend. That's exactly what I wanted to talk about."

"As a friend?" she said in an outrageous tone. "Your joking right? She religiously does your hair every game. You want to drive her everywhere and won't take a no for an answer, which is fine because she never puts up a fight anyway. She literally said she will marry you. She looks at you, like you hung up the moon and the stars?!

You go out everyday after training as 'friends' but have never actually bothered to invite your other friends. I think you really only got bothered once she invited someone else to come a long, because you knew this isn't a 'just friends' things.

You are bothered because she invited Ana to do something you consider to be extra friendly. Wondering 'what if she is doing romantic things with someone else?'.

Am I right or am I right?"

I felt tears come to my eyes. She described what I felt, but couldn't understand what it was. And I was angry in a way, with myself, for taking so long to notice.

"No need to cry babes." she said coming to hug me. "We cry when we have feelings that aren't reciprocated. You're so lucky, that girl is in love with you. And I really think she would like to hear how you feel."

I nodded quietly. After a couple minutes, in silence we go back inside.

Walking in, Y/N was sitting peacefully on her phone.

"Hey, what are you still doing here?" she looked up at me.

"Just waiting for you, so we can go for a snack." with the same kind smile she always had, on.

"I'll be quick in the shower."

Walking into the showers I was met with a grinning Lea.

"I told you."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Sitting in the usual spot we always did, I noticed for the first time the way she look at me. And maybe, just maybe the twinkle in her eyes, that I noticed very so often, was a sign of her adoration, that I've read wrong all along.

"You were crying..." it wasn't even a question, more of an statement.

"Not too much. I realized, I might have nothing to cry about."

"How's Ana settling in?" I cowardly change the subject.

"Good, I think she's really getting along with the new girl that arrived this week. Tainara, I think that's her name. It's nice to see, I know we didn't have much in common either.

Just didn't want her to go through what I did many times. Of arriving somewhere and feeling lonely and having a hard time making friends."

"I think it's lovely that you think so much about others. Wish I was more like that."

"You are one of the most considerate people I know."

"I'm so sorry."

"What? Why are you saying this?"

"Because I haven't been considerate with your feelings. I have made many mistakes, turning you down. I was unfair, but I swear it was never intentional." she reached across the table to place one of her hands on my cheek, holding it affectionately, as I lean on it.

"I know. That's the only reason I'm still here. You may have denied with words but your actions never lied." She caressed me softly.

"Do you really think I will be a cute granny?" she looked at me questionably.

"I will always think you're cute." and like it did many times before, her words made my stomach turn in excitement.

"Good. Because I want to grow old with you. I love you Y/N."

"I love you, Lena."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Like, share and request! 🩷

[grandlinedreams]

|| Cassian occupies more of my thoughts than he should tbh

|| warnings: mate!cassian, uhh pretty much pwp, oral (fem receiving), piv unprotected sex (make informed choices, kids!), maybe I got a little wine drunk when i started this last night but hey sinful sunday am i right, inappropriate usage of a couch and a library, finger sucking

He's doing it on purpose.

You're sure that he is ㅡ the drag of his fingers up and down your leg is slow and intentional, and it's making it increasingly hard to focus on the book you've been trying to read.

Keyword: trying.

By the third pass of his fingertips against the inside of your thigh, you've read the same paragraph six times ㅡ and you exhale. "Cassian."

His answer is a drowsy hum and the lift of his head from where he's pillowed against your stomach. "What?"

You wonder if he knows what he's doing ㅡ perhaps not, because the drowsiness in his eyes suggests he'd almost been asleep. The way he's sprawled out over you can hardly be the most comfortable, but the lax fold of his wings says that he's been content.

You find it in yourself to feel a little bad for bothering him and he hums again when you slip your fingers into his hair and scratch lightly at his scalp.

Cassian's expression reminds you of a pleased cat, and part of you expects him to start purring. Instead, he's a little more awake as he nudges his chin against your stomach. "Is that book good?"

You blink, eyes flicking to the book, the pitiful amount that you've read, and then you shrug. "I guess so."

"Not an encouraging statement," Cassian says, eyes gleaming as he adjusts how he's settled over you. "What's it about?"

Mother damn it all. Cassian watches as you struggle to come up with an answer. "Well," you say lamely, "I haven't read much of it, so..."

"You've been here for hours," Cassian points out. "Normally you'd have been done with that book and onto the next."

"Doesn't help when I have a breathing blanket on me," you huff, cheeks hot. "You keep touching me and it's distracting."

You realize your mistake the second the words leave your lips, teeth clicking together as Cassian's eyes gleam with a darker, predatory light.

"Oh," he almost purrs as he moves further up, caging you in as he looms over you. "I'm distracting, am I?"

You don't need to look at his pupils to know they're blown wide with lust, the knead of his fingers at your hips and the stiff press of him against your thigh.

"Want to see how distracting I can be?"

"We're in public," you protest, and he laughs quietly.

"Not really."

"This is the library," you whine, and he grins.

"You think Rhys or Az haven't done things in here before?" Your hips jerk underneath him, and he pinches at your skin with a growl. "You better not be imagining either one of them."

Heat unfurls in your lower belly, stoked coals that ignite as you arch against him, pressing into the upward wander of one of his hands to your breast. He palms it, and you exhale a soft moan.

"And if I am?"

It's a challenge, one you know is going to get you in trouble as Cassian almost snarls against your neck and nips hard enough that you cry out.

"Then I'll have to remind you who you should be thinking about then, hm?"

If someone were to walk in, there's absolutely no way they wouldn't know what you're doing. For starters, the smell of arousal is sharp in the air ㅡ the second is that you're bare from the waist down, legs on either side of Cassian's head, pressing into the plush cushion of the couch as he grips your hips and fucks his tongue into you like a man possessed.

And he may as well be for the skilled work of that slick muscle inside you, the noises you fight to stifle into your arm as he bumps your clit with his nose.

"Fuck, Cass," you whine, and you tense when he laughs against your slick, aching core, kitten licks that have you groaning and fighting to cant your hips down against his face.

He allows you the tiny victory of his tongue back against your folds, licking in earnest now as you pant and muffle your moans into the couch cushion.

He doesn't need to feel the pleasure rolling down your end of the bond to know how you're feeling, the little hitched breaths and shuddering gasps more than enough to have him palming himself to your sounds, lapping at your abundant slick with a groan of his own.

But your mate has never been particularly patient when you sound like that, too eager to have his cock inside you to let you finish on his tongue. He soothes your whine of frustrated protest with a kiss that tastes like you, lets you lick into his mouth as he works his pants down enough to free his length.

"Ride me," he huffs against your mouth, nipping at your jawline as he coaxes you back, legs settling on either side of his hips as he positions himself against you. He growls at the way your eyes flutter when the blunt tip of him nudges at your entrance, teeth digging into the meat of your shoulder as you sink down onto him.

There's a brief moment of heavy breathing as you adjust, the clench of your walls making him tense further as he fights to not simply flip your position ㅡ and then you're moving, the undulation of your hips making Cassian's head tip back against the decorative couch pillow with a moan.

"Shh," you murmur unsteadily as you bounce in his lap. "Do you want them to hear us?"

It's the wrong thing to say because Cassian's eyes light with challenge, cock twitching inside you before he bucks up and you curl, hand slapped to your mouth to keep from keening.

It doesn't take much to switch your position, his wings stretching out a little to help balance him as he presses you beneath him.

"You're the one who's loud, sweetheart," he says, grinning as the deep, deliberate grind of his hips into yours has you arching, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

"Cass," you manage when he slings one of your legs higher against his hip to sink a little deeper into you. "Cass, please, I can'tㅡ"

"Love hearing you beg," Cassian murmurs. "My pretty baby, can't have everyone hearing how good I make you feel, hm? Your noises should be just for me."

The slip of his fingers into your mouth is familiar, the obedient part of your lips that darkens his eyes further as you dig your teeth into the tip of his index.

"Don't be a brat," he warns, though the threat is ruined for the way he grunts when you clench around him. "Little vixen," he hisses as he resumes the movement of his hips.

You hum around his digits, flattening your tongue against them as he thrusts into you harder. The couch frame creaks a little in protest beneath you but you can't bring yourself to care, especially not when Cassian tugs his fingers free of your mouth in favor of rubbing a spit slick finger against your clit.

It's sheer will that you don't scream at the contact, arching as he works tight circles against the swollen bud, groaning as you clamp around him erratically. "Come on baby," he huffs, "wanna feel you soak my cock. Can you do that for me?"

Your answer is the dig of your teeth into his shoulder as you come, making him hiss as you tighten and pulse around him. He isn't far behind you though, hips flush to yours as he spills into you with a low moan before collapsing over you.

Chest heaving, you tug at one of the loose locks of dark hair. "Can't believe you got me to do this with you, you menace."

Cassian lifts his head, giving you a grin that sends your heart skipping a beat. "You love me."

Your fingers thread into his hair. "Yeah," you say, "I do." His expression softens before he's leaning up for a soft kiss ㅡ and then the moment is ruined by the horribly familiar voice of your High Lord ringing in your head.

I hope the two of you plan on getting a new couch for the library.

[xtra7s]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 ★ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

pairing: Renee Rapp x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N gets in a bit of trouble and Renee saves the day. Renee sees a bit into Y/Ns life beyond the act.

content: big warning for emotional abuse, manipulation, shit like that, drinking

word count: 2.9k+

masterlist | previous part

Renee's phone buzzed insistently, shattering the afternoon calm of her corner of the room. It was Adam, her manager, requesting an urgent meeting in his office. Curiosity gnawed at her as she navigated to the office, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Inside, she found Adam pacing, an uncharacteristic crease etched between his brows. Beside him, Y/N sat quietly, her usual vibrant energy subdued. Y/N's manager, Connie, stood ramrod straight, radiating tension.

"Renee, thanks for coming," Adam started, his voice strained. "This concerns Y/N. We want you guys to finish writing, but..." He hesitated, glancing at Connie for confirmation.

"There's been a…development," Connie interjected, her voice clipped. "An unexpected turn of events that could potentially cast a negative light on you and Y/N if not handled delicately."

Confusion washed over Renee. Y/N is known for her diva posts and witty replies but rarely courted controversy. "What happened?"

Connie cleared her throat. "Well did you know Y/N went out last night?"

A memory clicked in Renee's mind. She'd seen a photo Y/N posted, posing with a few other people outside of a club, holding a goofy grin on her face. "Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"Well," Connie continued, a hint of exasperation in her voice, "turns out, Y/N here heard a guy talking about her friends, being –" she paused, her gaze flitting to Y/N, "Not very nice, and Y/N took it upon herself to shut him up."

Renee's brow furrowed. Y/N was passionate, that much was true but reckless? Unlikely.

As if reading her mind, Y/N spoke up, her voice surprisingly calm. "He was being an asshole running his mouth, I didn't do shit wrong."

Renee nodded in understanding. While Y/N was 'mainly' lighthearted, sometimes she gets intense. Renee would probably do the same thing.

Connie sighed. "Look, we appreciate your protectiveness, Y/N, but the backlash is getting intense. People are misinterpreting your intention, accusing you of just wanting to start a fight."

"So, what's the plan?" Renee asked, sensing the unspoken part of the conversation.

Adam leaned forward, his expression apologetic. "We need to do some damage control. Y/N will be taking a temporary break from social media for a few weeks. We'll have Y/N issue a statement clarifying her stance on it, and why it happened."

"But…" Y/N started, a flicker of protest in her eyes.

"It's for the best, Y/N," Connie interjected firmly. "This way, the heat dies down, and you can return with a clean slate."

Renee glanced between them, feeling the weight of the situation. While she understood the need for caution, she also knew Y/N thrived on engagement and connection. A forced hiatus might take a toll on her spirit.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind. "What if, instead of silence, we used this as an opportunity?"

The room fell silent, all eyes fixated on her.

"Y/N could still use her platform, but with a different focus," Renee explained. "Instead of social media, she could create educational content – blog posts, videos, you said he was being an asshole right? what was it about?"

Y/N shrugs, slumping in her chair. "He was being fucking racist, homophobic, whatever the fuck. I'm not just gonna sit there and let my friends feel bad about that shit, it was supposed to be a fun night."

Renee nods, leaning in on the table. "Exactly so post about that shit. Captions being about your experience, shitty people, talk about the fact that its the 21st fucking century and people like that shouldn't fucking exist anymore"

Adam and Connie exchanged surprised glances. The idea was unconventional, but it held merit. Y/N's passion and reach, coupled with her genuine concern, could create a positive impact far outweighing the initial controversy.

"It's…different," Connie admitted, her voice softening. "But it could work."

Y/N's eyes lit up, a spark of her usual fire returning. "I love it! It's a way to turn this around, and make a difference while still using my voice."

A wave of relief washed over Renee. With Adam's hesitant approval and Connie's cautious optimism, the plan was set. Y/N wouldn't be silenced; she would be redirected, her voice amplified for a different cause.

The meeting came to a close, and Renee took a leap of faith. "Hey, Y/N," she began, "how about we continue working on the song over dinner? Maybe grab a drink together?"

Y/N, surprised by the proposal, hesitated for a moment before responding, "I've got plans tonight with friends, but you can tag along if you want."

Renee, intrigued by the unexpected invitation, agreed. 

Later that night, she found herself standing before Y/N, who looked radiant in a tight dress that shimmered like moonlight. Renee, true to her style, wore comfortable yet stylish pants and a top that showcased her confidence.

"Ready to get absolutely hammered?" Y/N asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Renee chuckled. "Always."

Renee couldn't help but be captivated by Y/N's presence. Her outfit was a perfect blend of chic and edgy, catching the play of lights in the club. The way Y/N carried herself spoke volumes – a mix of poise and a subtle hint of mischief. The club's atmosphere seemed to intensify with every step Y/N took.

Renee's eyes lingered on the way Y/N moved, effortlessly navigating through the crowd. The soft glow of the club lights accentuated the highlights in Y/N's hair, and the music seemed to harmonize with her every move. There was a magnetic quality to Y/N's presence that demanded attention, and Renee found herself unable to look away.

The Beat was alive with energy. Music vibrated through the air, pulsing with a rhythm that invited movement. Y/N led the way, greeting friends with warm hugs and introducing Renee with genuine enthusiasm.

The pulsating beat of the music echoed through the crowded club as Y/N and Renee navigated the lively atmosphere. Tonight was different – a blend of work and leisure as Y/N had invited Renee to join her and her friends. Among those friends was Y/N's boyfriend, someone Renee had heard about but never met.

As they approached the group, Y/N's smile widened. "Renee, meet Jake," she said, gesturing towards a man with a polite smile and slightly awkward demeanor.

"Hey, nice to finally meet you," Renee greeted, extending her hand. Jake shook it, his eyes flickering with a mix of nervousness and uncertainty.

Throughout the night, Renee couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Jake. He seemed distant, his eyes often wandering, and his responses to Y/N's affection were lukewarm at best. As the trio conversed and shared laughter, Renee observed the couple, sensing an underlying tension.

At one point, Y/N excused herself to grab drinks, leaving Renee alone with Jake. An awkward silence hung in the air until Renee decided to break it.

"So, how long have you and Y/N been together?" she asked, trying to initiate a casual conversation.

Jake hesitated, his eyes darting around as if searching for the right words. "A few months, I think." he replied shortly, avoiding direct eye contact.

Renee's instincts heightened, and she couldn't ignore the unease settling in the pit of her stomach. Y/N returned, handing them their drinks, but the atmosphere remained strained.

As the night progressed, Renee couldn't shake the feeling that Jake was hiding something. His behavior became more erratic, and he seemed increasingly uncomfortable in Renee's presence. Observing this, Renee grew concerned for her friend, unsure whether to address the issue or wait for Y/N to bring it up herself.

Despite initial nerves, Renee quickly found herself swept up in the welcoming atmosphere. Y/N's friends were diverse and accepting, and their energy was contagious. Soon, laughter and conversation flowed freely, forging new connections between them.

The club's vibrant lights danced over the energetic crowd, and the music reverberated through the air as Y/N, Renee, and their friends enjoyed the night. However, things took an unexpected turn when Y/N's boyfriend, Jake, abruptly pulled her away from the group, a few tables down.

Renee couldn't help but notice the sudden change in Jake's demeanor. His face wore an expression of hostility, and as Renee discreetly observed from a distance, she sensed tension building between the couple.

Curiosity got the better of her, and Renee discreetly made her way closer to the commotion, keeping a safe distance but close enough to catch snippets of the conversation.

"Why do you always have to hang out with her?" Jake's voice carried a harsh edge, his frustration palpable.

Y/N, clearly caught off guard, tried to maintain composure. "Renee? She's just a friend. What's the problem?"

Jake's eyes flashed with anger, and he gestured toward the friend group. "I can't stand being around her. It feels like a threat. Are you trying to make me uncomfortable?"

Y/N, bewildered and defensive, responded, "Jake, she's just a colleague. We're working on a project together. It's not personal."

Renee, hidden in the shadows, felt a mix of concern and disbelief. She hadn't anticipated the depth of Jake's unease, and the scene unfolding before her raised alarm bells.

As Jake's voice grew louder, Renee debated whether to intervene or give Y/N some space. Before she could decide, Y/N's eyes met hers, a mixture of embarrassment and helplessness written across her face.

Renee chose to step in, approaching them calmly. "Everything okay here?" she asked, injecting a hint of hostility into her voice.

Jake shot her a venomous look, his anger directed toward Renee. "Mind your own business, Rapp. We're fine here."

Y/N, caught in the crossfire, attempted to mediate. "Guys, let's calm down. Renee, it's fine. We'll talk later."

As Renee reluctantly retreated, she couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that Y/N's relationship had taken an unexpected and troubling turn. The strained atmosphere lingered in the air, leaving Renee grappling with the realization that the music of the night had unexpectedly hit a dissonant note.

Trying to shake off the uncomfortable encounter with Jake, Y/N made her way to the bar, seeking solace in the rhythmic beats and the clinking of glasses. The dimly lit ambiance offered a momentary escape as she took a few sips, trying to drown the unease that lingered from the heated conversation.

Determined to salvage the night, Y/N joined her friends on the dance floor. The pulsating music enveloped them, creating a temporary sanctuary where worries could be momentarily forgotten. However, the tension from earlier still loomed in the back of Y/N's mind.

After a few energetic dance routines, Y/N decided to face the lingering issue. She approached Renee, who was now chatting with another friend and pulled her aside, away from the pulsating beats.

"Hey, Renee," Y/N began, attempting to sound nonchalant. "I just wanted to let you know I'm heading out with Jake. It's been a weird night, but I hope you enjoy the rest of it."

Renee, sensing the underlying tension, nodded and offered a supportive smile. "Sure thing, Y/N. Be safe, we'll catch up soon."

As Y/N disappeared into the crowd with Jake, Renee couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. The club's lively atmosphere continued around her, but a sense of unease lingered. Renee wished Y/N well silently, hoping that whatever turmoil existed in Y/N's relationship would find resolution.

With a sigh, Renee turned back to the dance floor, determined to immerse herself in the music and the joy of the night. Yet, in the midst of the celebration, a lingering concern for her friend colored the remainder of the evening. The dance floor pulsed with energy, but Renee couldn't shake the feeling that the night had taken an unexpected turn, leaving a discordant note in the air.

The night stretched into the early hours as Y/N and Jake returned to her house, the once vibrant energy of the club replaced by an unsettling tension. As they stepped through the door, the atmosphere shifted, and Jake's demeanor darkened.

Without warning, Jake started a fight, his words cutting through the air like shards of glass. He criticized Y/N for spending time with Renee, accusing her of purposely making him uncomfortable. Y/N, taken aback by the sudden escalation, attempted to defuse the situation.

"I don't understand why you're so upset," Y/N pleaded, her voice quivering with confusion. "Renee is just a friend, and tonight was supposed to be fun."

Jake's response was cold and manipulative. "You're always so sensitive. Can't you handle a little criticism? Maybe if you weren't so emotional, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

As the argument intensified, Y/N's attempts to reason with Jake only seemed to fuel his anger. He twisted the situation, placing the blame squarely on Y/N's shoulders. Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt the weight of the conversation.

"You're the one overreacting, Y/N. This is all in your head," Jake sneered, dismissively waving off her tears. "Stop being so sensitive, we wouldn't have these problems."

Y/N, overwhelmed and emotionally drained, couldn't comprehend the sudden turn of events. She felt trapped in a web of manipulation, her attempts to communicate met with hostility and blame-shifting. The tears fell freely now, a mix of frustration and heartache.

As the night wore on, the toxicity of the situation lingered in the air. Y/N's home, once a sanctuary, now felt like a battleground of emotions. Jake's manipulative tactics had left scars on the night, and Y/N found herself questioning the foundation of her relationship.

In the quiet aftermath, Y/N was left to grapple with the emotional aftermath of the night, hoping for clarity and resolution in the days to come. The echoes of Jake's harsh words lingered, a painful reminder that sometimes the deepest wounds come not from external forces but from those we hold closest.

In the hushed aftermath of the argument, Jake's anger continued to cast a shadow over the room. Y/N, emotionally drained and vulnerable, found herself on the receiving end of a twisted attempt at reconciliation.

With a feigned sense of remorse, Jake approached Y/N and gently touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to ruin our night," he said, his voice laced with insincerity.

Y/N, still raw from the earlier confrontation, hesitated but yearned for a semblance of normalcy. As Jake leaned in, he pressed a kiss against her forehead, attempting to use physical intimacy to mend the emotional wounds he had inflicted.

"Let's just go to bed, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow," Jake suggested his words designed to manipulate Y/N into submission.

Caught in the confusing web of emotions, Y/N reluctantly agreed. The facade of normalcy seemed appealing, and the exhaustion from the night's events weighed heavily on her. As they lay in bed, a palpable tension lingered in the air, overshadowing any sense of true reconciliation.

Jake's actions, though masked in the guise of apology, left Y/N grappling with the unsettling feeling that something fundamental in their relationship had shifted. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a silent battleground where emotions were suppressed and genuine connection eluded them.

As she changed into her pajamas, Y/N's phone buzzed on the nightstand. With a curious glance, she saw a message from Renee.

Renee: Hey, you okay?"

Renee's message felt like a lifeline in the midst of the emotional storm. Gratitude washed over Y/N as she replied,

Y/N: Hey, thank you for checking in. I'm fine."

In the quiet darkness, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging doubt that this night would leave an indelible mark on her perception of Jake and their relationship. As sleep claimed the world around them, Y/N lay in the stillness, contemplating the complexities of love and the blurred lines between sincerity and manipulation.

As Y/N lay in bed beside Jake, her mind refused to be silent. The events of the evening replayed like a relentless loop, casting shadows over her thoughts. As she stared into the darkness, her mind involuntarily shifted towards Renee.

The contrast between Jake's manipulative behavior and Renee's genuine concern became starkly apparent. Y/N couldn't help but imagine how different it would be if Renee were in Jake's place – a realization that weighed on her heart.

Renee, with her kindness, understanding, and the support she offered earlier, seemed like a beacon of comfort in comparison to the storm that had engulfed her night with Jake. Y/N began to entertain the idea of how Renee, with her genuine nature, would be a far better partner, someone who valued communication and mutual respect.

In the quiet of her thoughts, Y/N couldn't help but imagine a relationship where trust was the foundation and where vulnerability wasn't met with manipulation. The idea of being with someone who cared for her well-being, as Renee had demonstrated, felt like a balm to the wounds inflicted by the tumultuous night.

As the night lingered on, Y/N found herself caught between the reality of her current situation and the fantasy of what a healthier, more genuine relationship could be. In the gentle embrace of these thoughts, sleep slowly claimed her, carrying with it a dream of a connection that transcended the toxic dynamics that had tainted her evening.

[neptune-scythe]

ok the thing is Tommy is not even a quarter as enthusiastic or excited about any interaction with Buck as he is with Eddie

he spends the entirety of the episode choosing to hang out with Eddie, inviting him to things, making plans with him. He's laughing and smiling the entire time they're together, and whether or not that interest is romantic or platonic it is like so freaking obvious that he's only interested in hanging out with Eddie

Like why does he even kiss buck??? why does he ask him out??? he has barely shown any interest at all the entire episode

what

does

he

WANT

and the whole letting buck set the pace thing just adds to that because he's just making Buck put all the work in basically

like ok yeah we've not seen much of them as a couple or what they get up to and what their dynamic is after they got together so there isn't actual proof of that

but that statement and what we have seen, which is Tommy spending a whole ass episode being so happy to be around Eddie and remarkably less interested in being around Buck, and the only active participation we've really seen him do in the relationship is kissing Buck and breaking up with him ... is kinda sus y'all

Is he just using Buck to be part of the 118 family??? Is he just dating him because he's there??? Is he a malicious jealous type and just trying to get close to Buck so he can take everything he has??? Is he just after the sex???

I SIMPLY DO NOT KNOW

i have no idea what that man wants, and that is either bad writing or very intentional writing and given the rest of the show it's more likely very intentional writing.

especially given the deleted scene

Hen and Karen have never once questioned anyone else's partners, and Hen is canonically never wrong about mistrusting someone soooooooo

Imma trust Hen and myself on this one

that man is simply hella sus

not like he wasn't sus from day fucking one though but I guess we're just supposed to have forgotten about that bit

but I'm not gonna

man was sus, is sus, and always will be sus

i have spoken

[windvexer]

Hello,

In your "practice sorcery in a not soul-sucking way" post, you mention a beginner artist doodling a landscape then saying their art "doesn't work".

I was wondering if you have a spell for warding a space against unwanted attention/negative energies, which was the magical equivalent of "paint or scribble until the whole page is black"?

No particular skill necessary, just something blunt and brute-force which may take a lot of energy (SCRIBBLING AS GARD AS YOU CAN AAAA) but which would be cathartic? It's my first spell since.... Playing around initiating a wand with my friend when we were kids. Wow.

The thought of trying to learn correspondences or something is.... Exhausting-sounding. I just need a space that's mine. Maybe with a "keep this space calm and quiet" element thrown in.... And something with knot-tying that leaves me with a charm I can hang, maybe?

If this is too much/too specific, feel free to disregard (though I'd appreciate knowing you got the ask). Thank you so much for your time, and I hope things are going well for you. Also, your chicken-frying spirit-trappjng pot is gorgeous.

Good morning, or it will be in 20 minutes when midnight rolls over.

We are in reference to this post about practicing sorcery, and also this post about my pot of many uses.

Yes I imagine there is probably a short answer but you've given me the chance to talk about theory, so :)

Knot-tying magic is nice and easy, and I really think it doesn't require special skills beyond tying knots. I have this old post about making a simple hanging charm with macrame.

One thing that helps me with the idea of knot magic is that you're always going to be binding something.

You can go with the idea that you are binding up statements of intent which then become like the rungs on a ladder, allowing other energies and intents to climb up into reality.

But I imagine more commonly, you bind things up to trap them (and perhaps releasing them for use later).

This provides a decent idea for part B of your spell, "keep this space calm and quiet." A nice knot tied up by the door to capture disruptions and bind them up and make them inert might suffice.

As for your part A, warding against unwanted attentions and negative energies - you've got options.

And a good place to start is that you want a space that's yours.

I am a huge believer in the efficacy of spiritual authority. Crudely put, there is actual magical power in saying, "this is my space. I own it. Only things I invite inside are allowed."

I don't mean that it's personally powerful, or therapeutic, although it may be those things. I mean that I believe it literally changes something in the record books of the Otherworlds.

Of course it immediately gets more complicated, especially in cases of territory disputes, but by and large a powerful first step for making a space feel safe, comfortable, and barred from unwanted attention and negative energies,

is to magically announce that the space is yours, you are its keeper, and from that point on you call the shots.

Perhaps best of all, doing so requires no correspondences. Just go around and start telling the world how it's going to be. Start with the doorway, and pay due respects to windows and vents. Not because they're vectors of negative energy contamination, but because thresholds are their own species of Creature and know a little bit more than some of the baser household construction.

Put on some music or whatever to get yourself in the state of mind to take it all seriously, and then go to the main entrance and say, "hello; let me introduce myself formally." (And then introduce yourself). "I'd like to let you know I'm going to be responsible for this space from now on. I'm the keeper of this room, and it's on me to decide what comes and goes - not other people in the household."

And then go about to all the various things in the room (for some reason I guess I decided this is for your bedroom) and let them all know that this is your space and you're taking the reins. "Rug by the door, I love the pattern you've got going on. Just to let you know-"

Draw a finger over the wall. That's your wall; the space within it is your space. Touch the window frame and the door frame; they frame only what you allow to pass through, and nothing else. Touch your old things and dig deep through layers of the past: speak the new truth to stacks of things that have been peacefully slumbering for years.

Just go around and have a nice time with it, and in general claim your space. That will set you up pretty well for whatever kind of work you'd like to do next.

The reason I recommend all these big paragraphs of things is because I think it fits the bill of what you're looking for, re. not requiring extra skills.

But then once you've got the room on board and you're set up as the new captain, you might well like to ask the door to keep out intruders. And you should; let the door know your vision of the room moving forward is that nobody but you tries to come into it.

And while you're at it, you might as well give your door a garotte to strangle anyone who tries to come in.

Or.... strangle the energy of intrusiveness in general, you know.

With the knot spell that we were talking about earlier!

If you prepare something nice and simple, like a macrame crystal net, or even a simple overhand knot in some cord, position this by the entryway so that the charm works in tandem with the door (who, remember, is now on your side but could possibly do with reinforcements).

(By the way, a decent way to 'cast' a knot spell is to take some cord and prepare a loose knot and wait for the irritating thing to happen; at the moment it happens, quickly yank the knot closed, and tell the cord, "see? That's exactly the thing I'm talking about, I've just given you an example to work from. You go ahead and bind up the rest now, just like that." Give the cord another knot that's not completely tightened, to let it do the rest itself.)

Besides getting the doors and windows on your side, and tying up intruders, I think you may especially enjoy a nice dish of salt. That link is to @aesethewitch who made a lovely writeup on the idea of ambient spells, and I think this may be just your thing.

I think technically it could be a nice dish of anything, but I think salt probably fits the bill. It's very cheap if you need to buy any, but more importantly, it's got an excellent "filtration" effect that helps to keep a space free of bad vibes.

As far as the political landscape of the room, such a dish of salt could hypothetically be placed anywhere, unlike the sneaky cord of binding, which probably ought to be right next to the door so it can pounce at first sight of an interloper.

[wolvesandfoxes25]

"You should leave."

Jaskier looked up quickly from where he was writing lyrics.

"I beg your pardon?"

Geralt wasn't looking at him, eyes facing the adjacent side of the hut.

"Leave for Oxenfurt...or Redania. Find that Prince you fucked."

Jaskier felt his stomach lurch.

How did he know about that?

Clearing his throat, he shoved his booklet into his coat.

"I'm not sure what you're playing at Geralt, but I've no intention of leaving."

He was still facing away.

"You're wasting your time here. I'm sure the noble could provide you with many adventures."

The words came out sardonically and snappish.

Jaskier felt whiplash at the statement.

"We enjoyed our time together. Until afterwards." He mumbled the last part, feeling the same dreg of anger at Radovid come to the forefront. Even if he had apologized, it hadn't changed what he'd done.

What Jaskier hoped he wouldn't do.

He wasn't looking to marry the man, but a romance that was his, where he wasn't pining and panting after someone who would never love him, well, it would've been nice.

"Cut from the same cloth, I bet you did." Geralt growled.

Jaskier furrowed his eyebrows.

"And just what do you mean by that?"

Silence.

"You've no right to judge me based on my dalliances, Geralt."

How had the conversation come to this point?

"Dalliance?" Geralt asked, eyes finally turning to Jaskiers.

The brunette looked sideways, being pinned under the weight of those eyes had always been too much for him.

"Where did you learn this anyway?"

Silence.

The dryads were little gossipers then.

"You cared for him." Geralt grit out.

Jaskier pinched his lips together, feeling as if this were an interrogation.

Silence.

Sighing loudly, Jaskier turned his gaze back to the Witcher.

"It felt nice. With him, I felt I was actually being seen. He learned my songs, even if knowing them was just for nefarious reasons. I-I was... lonely. Being back in the thick of this isn't always easy."

Geralt took in his expression his nostrils flaring.

"It used to be."

Jaskier blanched.

That was before Yennefer was everywhere.

He couldn't blame Geralt and Yennefer for their feelings for each other. But, it wasn't easy to always have it in his face.

"Age tends to change things." He murmured, hoping the other man believed the lie.

Geralt grunted.

Guess not.

Jaskier felt the tension in the room thicken.

"Had I known you went for poncey little Princes, I would have left you at a royal court to do their bidding long ago."

Knashing his teeth together, Jaskier stood up in a furious flourish.

"I don't know why you're being such a bloody bastard to me, but I'm not your punching bag, Geralt! Those days are over! Do you understand me?"

The Witchers eyes flashed and he pulled himself up into a piteous representation of sitting up.

"Fuck you."

Jaskier hissed.

"Fuck me? Fuck you." He fired back at Geralt.

What was happening right now? Why was Geralt behaving this way?

The two of them stared each other down.

"I don't know how you can sit there and have the bleeding audacity to berate me over a potential partner."

The golden eyes narrowed.

"Meaning?" He hissed.

Jaskier felt the anger start to build higher and higher.

"You have your great romance! Yennefer! Your sweet little family! Then there's me, who you tossed away like yesterdays porridge!"

Geralt moved to get up, but hissed at the pain.

"Don't do that, you idiotic lump of a man!" Jaskier chided him, moving to shove him back.

Geralt pushed him away, catching his breath to gather himself to his feet.

"Yennefer healed me, I told you that." He snapped, flinging his cane away.

Jaskier watched him sway, but he rolled his shoulders, catching himself.

"But we both know your leg is still giving you trouble, Geralt."

The Witcher glared.

"Easy to leave then, huh? Just like you did on the mountain."

Jaskiers jaw dropped, feeling his balance shift at the fury that ran through him.

"You have the unmitigated, bleeding gall to say that to me? You blame me!?" He yelled.

Geralt scowled, looking away from him in what seemed like shame.

Suddenly... it all made sense.

"You're jealous." Jaskier whispered.

The Witcher moved to leave the hut but Jaskier grabbed his arm to halt him.

Geralt growled.

"How in all the hells are you jealous? You have never expressed anything regarding romantic affections towards me. Ever."

"All those women you were constantly fucking was supposed to tell me otherwise?" Geralt replied sarcastically.

Jaskier threw his hands up in frustration.

"You could've asked me!"

Geralt said nothing as the other man set his hands down upon the bedding of the cot.

"You have got to be the most stubborn, burlish lout I have ever met in my existence upon this earth."

Silence.

"You have no idea how I fe-."

But he stopped himself, the words clogging his throat.

The truth he had figured long long ago. And had told no-one, not Vespula, not the Countess, nobody.

Yennefer had probably guessed after hearing his song in the tavern, but said nothing in reference to it.

Thank the Gods.

"I don't want to continue this conversation further. If you want me to fucking leave so badly, I'll leave. And I'll go back to Radovid and suck his cock in his pretty little throne room. Would that make you happy, Geralt?" He snarled, shoving past him to get some air outside, when a hand clamped over his wrist...

TBC?

[fishsticksloser]

Crush Pt 2

Donnie x gn!reader

Warnings: angst (once again just Donnie's feelings), comfort, fluff, human!reader inferred, swearing, NO TCEST

A/N: The requested part 2. I have so many Donnie requests right now, trying to space them out... I'm gonna go watch the FNAF movie today!!!

Previous | Next

Donnie sits in his lab, fingers strumming against the desk. He stares at the pile of parts you'd managed to find for him. The newest one made his head spin, it could only be found in the Hidden City, this meant you went down to find it for him. You probably had to go to a bunch of places to get one in such good condition.

But you couldn't possibly have a crush on him. His brothers were imagining it.

Leo pointed out that you started wearing purple. Which of course Donnie noticed, but he tried to say that maybe you just liked it. Raph followed up with saying that you hardly ever wore purple before now.

"Its a sign" So Mikey and Leo said.

Donnie wasn't buying it.

Mikey pointed out that you were wearing lighter purples which are associated with with light-hearted, romantic feelings. He also brought attention to the fact that Donnie also started wearing lighter purples. Which Donnie quickly turned attention away from.

⋆｡ ﾟ｡☁︎👾｡ ﾟ｡⋆

"Why won't you even consider that they might actually have a crush on you?" Leo asks as he lounges in Donnie's lab while he works.

"It's simply out of the question." Donnie answers, as it that was a good enough answer. He looked at his twin for a moment, seeing the look on Leo's face. "I have hardly any redeeming qualities. The ones I do... Probably shouldn't be considered."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Leo sits up and frowns at Donnie. He rolls his chair over to Donnie, ready to give him a talking to. "You realize that you're actually likeable, right? We just joke around about each other."

"Sure, sure." Donnie rolls his eyes and turns back to his work. Unfortunately, Leo managed to keep him from turning, making Donnie face him. Donnie huffs and glares at Leo. "Just like the time you made sure I was taken by bats so I 'didn't ruin another mission'? Or reprogramming Shelldon to prove that my inventions suck?"

"Okay, that last one I admit was a bit far..." Leo sighs, looking at his twin with pleading eyes. "But you're my best friend, my twin. I wouldn't be sitting silently in your lab if I didn't like you, you know how hard it is for me to sit still and be quiet." Donnie smiles a little at Leo's last statement, letting out a weak snort, which makes Leo continue more passionately. "You're the opposite of me. In almost every way, but that's what makes us work. Sure I'm charismatic and insanely attractive... But you're mysterious, stoic, and fucking genius."

"And those are redeeming qualities?" Donnie asks, genuinely wanting to know. Did those things pull you to be attracted to him? Were those qualities really attractive?

"Absolutely!" Leo says, shaking Donnie a little. But then Leo stops to think for a second. "Well... They might think you hate them now."

"What?" Donnie replies, eyes wide. "Why? Did I do something?" He's panicking now. He had to fix this. He had to finally admit that you might maybe have a crush on him.

"You have been pretty... Guarded lately. You've been kind of blunt and mean to them, we've-"

Donnie stands up and rushes out of the lab quickly to resolve the issue. He quickly went to your place, not even knocking. He slipped in through the window, seeing you cooking dinner.

"You think I hate you?" Donnie asks softly, making you jump.

"I should really put a lock on the window..." You laugh anxiously. Donnie frowns at you for avoiding his question. "I didn't think it was out of the question."

"I'm sorry, that was never my intention." He murmurs, moving closer to you. You stare at him, a little shocked. He's apologizing? And sounds sincere? "I've been... Fighting my emotions. I guess I didn't realize I was taking it out on you."

"I don't understand..." You reply, brows furrowed as you look up at him. The look in his eyes is much different, softer than they had been recently.

"My brothers say you have a crush on me?" Donnie asks like he's wanting reassurance, wanting confirmation that these rumors where in fact true. You nod, even more confused. "I've been... Fighting with believing that... And with understanding how I feel about you."

You stare at him still, finally the pieces click. "Oh..." You whisper in realization, adverting your gaze for a moment to collect yourself. "So that's what Leo's text meant..." Donnie cocked his head a little before you showed the text.

Mayday! Donnie is about to explode emotionally!

Donnie rolls his eyes at his brother's text, but then looks at you. "So... What does this mean for us?" He questions quietly.

"I would like to... Figure this out with you, if that's something you'd be interested in."

"Sounds intriguing... I'm in."

[lovelykil]

Killua hcs for a s/o who works at a book store that sells manga and anime stuff and games? (There’s a place similar to that at the mall I like) but keeps getting hit on by customers (nothing bad just like innocent flirting since they don’t know she’s taken)

also I know you don’t rlly write for killua anymore so feel free to ignore this! 💥 have a nice day

headcanons─

: ➛killua

hc; reader who works at the book store that gets hit on

note; PAUSE I love the book store 😔😔 I will not be ignoring this

the silverette comes and visits you every so often at your job whether with gon or just himself.

he likes to look around, slowly wandering to where you're at. He'll maybe fuck around and switch some books cause he's an asshole

he only does this to get your attention though and you always catch him in the act with that mischievous grin painted on his face. His unique hair isn't something you see everyday so it's very easy to spot him.

you're handling a customer, trying to scan their manga and a few pieces of merch from that anime series whilst watching him intently.

you shake your head at the boy with an unphased look, putting the customer's items into the bag. Killua from afar, smirks and quietly walks away from the scene. He grabs a random manga from a shelf before sitting somewhere close to the register.

you sigh, it wasn't an extremely annoyed one just a 'my gosh this boy' one if that makes sense

when you sigh it triggers the customer in front, he quickly notices and says something.

"oh what's the matter? Is the manga I picked not to your liking?" The man grabs his wallet. Your attention was brought back to your working space quickly, you let out a light chuckle with a head shake.

"no no, I adore Death Note, it's just a.. long day I guess." The guy nods as he finds his card to pay. He hands you the card and you take it to slip it in the device.

"I understand Mondays are crucial." He laughs which makes you smile at the accuracy of his statement.

you slip the plastic out and hand him back the card, "seems like you get it." You once again smile, a polite and gentle one as you hand him his bag. He smiles back, reaching for his bag.

"you have a nice smile you know that?" His compliment throws you off for a moment considering Killua was just a few feet away, it was such an innocent thing to say but coming from a man.. it might make kil get the wrong idea.

you laugh nervously, covering your mouth. "uh thanks." He takes his bag and nods before leaving though he studies your face once more. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your boyfriend flipping through some random manga, you take a breath.

maybe he didn't hear that.

"can I buy you coffee sometime? There's that Cafe down the street if you know what I'm talking about." He points in the direction of the Cafe. Your eyes grow wide at his proposal, unaware of what to say next.

your eyes immediately fall onto the ground to reply. "uhmm I'm not sure, ahaha.." suddenly the floor looks exquisite today.

the guy talks some more, trying to persuade you otherwise until you eventually get another customer and he is forced to part away.

after your shift is done you breathe in and then sigh, making your way to blue eyes. Though he wasn't in his spot anymore but now in your personal space.

"you have a nice smileee, huh??"

"OH KILLUA jeez!" You jump back, obviously startled at his presence appearing in front of you so quickly. He stands with his arms tucked with an irritated facial expression.

long ass intro 😭🙏🏾 but anyway

I wouldn't say he's jealous but rather annoyed? Or maybe a combination of both.

annoyed because who do those people think they is flirting with his gf like.. 😒

and jealous because you're HIS, and he's kinda afraid someone will sweep you off your feet, and as soon as he knows it you've found someone else.

so to avoid this from happening he usually lingers around the register, you know usually annoyed killua stuff

when your break comes though you make sure to bring him to a secluded space, away from the public eyes to showerr him with kisses and words that make his face flush. Since he doesn't really do public affection you usually do this when he comes to visit.

"you know you can't stare down the customers when they open their mouths to say something." You smile, grazing your thumb along his cheek.

"at least I didn't do what I did last time." He sticks out his tongue as you remember. "Throw a book at them? Yeah I guess.." You snicker, pulling a piece of his hair to twirl around.

"have I improved or what?" He asks, grinning in the moment as you mess with his hair.

"killua you threw a gojo pen at a guy last we-"

"have I IMPROVED or WHAT"

[sophieinwonderland]

sophie, you have got to stop claiming that the christian god is canonically plural. that alone is depleting what little respect we have left for you. you're not christian yourself, or even spiritual. you have no right to speak on this. not to mention that there are several denominations of christianity that don't believe in a trinitarian god (our denomination being one of them). when you make these claims, you come off as a willfully ignorant asshole who treats the spiritual beliefs of others as bargaining chips for syscourse, regardless of what your intentions may be. speculation is fine, but making the claim that your speculation (on a religion you're not even a part of!) is unequivocally true is........ bad.

have a good day /gen. we say these things not out of any hatred or malice, but out of a genuine desire to help you learn and grow.

You know, I'm not one to toss around "check your privilege" unironically... but let's just say that I find it interesting how you, as a member of one of the most popular religions in the world that permeates every ounce of our culture, is saying we don't have a "right" to speak on your religion.

And all I can think is just... can you imagine if Hellenists reacted as you do every time they encountered somebody talking about the Greek gods?

I made similar statements about the Wiccan moon goddess being plural, and even when it offended a Wiccan sysmed, they didn't have the gall to say I didn't have the right to make those statements.

Sorry, you don't need to have some special "right" to be able to talk about a religion.

Anyway, God is canonically plural, according to most mainstream churches. God is three people in one being.

Yes, there are a few non-Trinitarian churches out there. And in fact, when my host was Christian, he and his family largely had non-trinitarian views, seeing Jesus as a separate being from The Father.

I'm not ignorant of the fact that non-trinitarian beliefs exist. They're just an overwhelming minority of the faith.

(Also, I guess someone should tell all the religious anthropologists to find a new field because apparently nobody has the right to say anything about a religion they aren't a part of. 🙄)

[mecachrome]

ur tag “joking but likeee this is why he and lando communicate perfectly” YEAH!

lando constantly misunderstood norris + oscar refuses to let things drop without fully understanding piastri

exactly anon <333 i know it's like socially unacceptable to relate your neurodivergent traits to real people on the internet apparently so i mostly keep this in oomf dms but i do think part of why some people are drawn to 814's "weirdness" is that it reminds them a lot of their own interactions/patterns of communication with their friends 🤷‍♀️ and honestly........ idk not to get too serious or anything but what kind of bothers me about how oscar/lando's personalities are interpreted is that it often feels like it's done through a bad-faith nt lens but then i feel like i'm just being too sensitive LOL. like personally i find lando to be a really clear and strong communicator and i guess i don't really "get" why a lot of nt people are determined to perceive innuendo where there is no reason to be any.... like as audhd guy i feel like i never Think or Express Myself the right way and then i'm like damb are these statements really being read that way ??? and second-guess my ability to understand tone and intent LOL. and frankly i find it so reductive to treat oscar as a kimi 2.0 in earnest (obviously most jokes are in good fun & harmless but like as a Singular Characterization it's mildly exhausting) because it completely ignores the fact that he does have so much character and has always had it and it's not like his maturity & coolness ever "hid" his prema self as some say, those parts of him are capable of just existing in tandem...

anw 😔 i think like 90% of high-level professional athletes are deeply neurotic to some degree especially when their lives are dominated by habits and routine but it's endearing to see 814 communicate because they rly do have an unspoken understanding of each other's quirks and limits and it works really well together :') qtest most expressive girl