#I'm not making this up I'm just delivering it

[rhube]

Listen, having worked in university marketing, I am here to tell you that not all ads are evil or trying to deceive you. People work really hard at conveying precisely the information you need that will tell you if a product is for you.

There are people in advertising and marketing who are well aware of the laws about not deceiving customers and who think constantly about what they can provide evidence to claim, not making stuff up.

And yeah, they're trying to persuade you, but that doesn't automatically mean 'buy this piece of shit we're telling you is solid gold'. It means, 'we really believe in this, we have evidence that it's good and could be a great thing for you, but we need to find a way to tell you that and make you trust us' which takes a lot of thought.

And as a consumer there's a lot of stuff I just wouldn't know about if not for advertising. We need advertising to tell people there are solutions to problems, quality products, and fun things to get excited about.

Advertising isn't inherently BAD. And it's one of the few industries in which creative people can make a liveable wage with their art or writing.

The problem we have at the moment is that a lot of people with no training in making good ads, people who don't care about laws, or are based somewhere with less regulation, who are churning out annoying, misleading, not-accesdible garbage.

And these people aren't researching their audience and tailoring the content to people for whom its relevant. Instead a whole tech industry has grown up where people who know fuck all about marketing have companies that scrape and aggregate your data, who sell it to other tech companies that sell advertising space, which is bought up by yet another automated service that has been trained to get 'the best deal' for the company that wants to sell a product.

That's not how it works when you wanna make a useful ad. You should be doing customer research with your actual customers. Analysing the data you get to tailor both the advert and the advertising space.

But these automated systems talking to other automated systems don't do that.

Like, first off, the data is SHIT. It may not even differentiate content you noped out of from stuff you looked at for half an hour. And if it does, it treats all the content on the page equally. All the stuff you're ignoring is tagged as 'on sites this user spends a lot of time on'. Whereas human customer research, for which customers consent and usually receive some kind of reward, involves tracking eye movements, mouse movements, clicks, and an interview afterwards to ask what they were thinking about and why they stayed on one page over another. This is so much more helpful! It helps make content more useful to users and prevents wasted marketing effort.

But almost no one does it these days because, well, it's expensive. You gotta compensate the consumers you do your research with, design sensible things for them to test, have someone monitor and analyse what they do, and interview them after. That's very expensive compared to a bunch of lightning fast calculations that can all be automated. So companies don't pay to do it properly, and they don't actually tailor their ads to you, and they're not trying to be informative.

At best (and I can't stress enough how rare this is) ads that are based on this data and algorithms and/or machine learning deliver what will get you to look at the ad for longer or click the ad to go to a website. But if that means bright flashing colours and the world's tiniest 'x' so you can't actually close the ad without clicking through, these automated systems are designed to get you to do THAT, not buy the product.

Honestly, I know it sounds like I'm asking for sympathy for the devil, but I have seen this from the tech side, the marketing side, the researcher side, and the user doing the test. I have taken a course on content strategy and heard what academics in this field have to say, and it's honestly not evil. They're trying to adapt to an environment where you're constantly barraged with demands on your attention, so it is in the advertiser's best interest to be clear and tailored and not waste your time.

But unfortunately an awful lot of people have been sold on the idea that these automated systems ARE targeting people who would be interested with stuff that's relevant to them, and they're just NOT.

You can see it if you compare an entertaining TV ad by an established brand who can pay for the research to the vast majority of internet ads. They can be funny, entertaining, informative, even insightful. They can also be stereotyped and annoying of course, but on the whole they're much less of a headache than the nonsense funnel we get exposed to constantly online and in mobile games.

Tbh, advertisers, producers, and consumers have all been screwed over by VC-owned companies that are being squeezed from on high for every last drop of short term capital. And that means automating things because it's cheaper and quicker than human analysis, even if it means the whole thing becomes annoying, unhelpful garbage.

But scale it back and think about your artist friend. Your creator with a small etsy business. Your self-published author. Your inventor with a neat accessibility tool. They aren't producing groceries, but if they don't advertise, literally no one will know their products exist.

Advertising DOES have a good and important role. Under-regulated advertising in a toxic system not aimed at serving producers OR customers is hamstrung and cannot perform that role.

The only acceptable ads should be shit like "groceries on sale" and "free event at the local library"

[3igbootyl0ver]

A New Face

pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

summary: where the group of friends meet Chad's new roommate.

word count: 1737

a/n: heyyyyy this is my first ever fic I've written, don't mind it being cringy and I'm open to feedback teehee hope ya'll enjoy (p.s I'm new to this whole Tumblr thing cut me some slack 😭)

Chad has been trying to convince the core four to hangout at his apartment. He had been feeling lonely recently since Mindy and Anika had recently moved in together. 

It took him a few weeks to finally convince them into hanging out at his apartment. With Sam’s paranoia and busy work schedule, and the heavy workload for Tara,Mindy, and Anika in college, they were finally able to make the time and hangout. Plus, they could use a new scenery besides the Carpenter’s apartment, right?

That particular day they were supposed to meet up at Chad’s apartment, Tara was feeling under the weather, her finals for her college exam was killing her; And all she wanted to do was eat some greasy dough with sauce and meat while watching scary movies. 

“Hey guys! Come in, the pizza is getting delivered soon.” Chad exclaimed while hopping on his toes, feeling ecstatic since he hadn’t met them for a while. 

“What’s with you? you’re acting like a kid, dude.” Mindy commented, noticing her twin brothers’ gleamed faced and excitement. 

“Sorry, I’ve been lonely and I’m just glad we’re all together again. THE CORE FOUR! And Anika, of course.” 

“Didn’t you put up an online ad for a roommate? Where are they?”

“You don’t learn, do you?” Sam added, frowning with Chad’s method of calling in someone to fill in the extra room. 

Chad abashedly chuckled, and lowered his head, his cheeks burning up from embarrassment. It was Sam, who wouldn’t be scared?

“My roommate is cool! They’re out for work and should be here soon. They’re not a psychotic serial killer, I promise.”

Sam was skeptical, rightfully so. Meanwhile, Tara was sat on the couch, with her legs on the coffee table while scrolling through the tv to find a movie to watch. She couldn’t bother joining in on the conversation. She felt mentally exhausted from her exams and just wanted a day’s rest. 

After a while, the group was playing card games while eating their pizzas and watching movies. 

“That’s not fair Mindy! Stop giving me all the +4 cards!” Tara shrieked, feeling frustrated after getting the card that made her double the number of cards she had at least 4 times, making her chances of winning low.

“Whatever you big baby. Just admit that you suck in uno,” Mindy responded, smirking triumphantly while raising her voice

Tara rolled her eyes, not accepting her defeat and continued arguing with Mindy, with the rest watching amused by the entertainment. Unsurprisingly , Tara lost after Mindy getting rid of her cards before her. She couldn’t get rid of her cards with the suspicious amounts of +4 cards Mindy had. 

“Uno! Looks like I win, LOSER!”

“How about I shove this uno cards up your a-“

Tara’s reply was interrupted by the front door opening, revealing you carrying your backpack on your shoulders and your motorcycle helmet hanging off your hand (which peaked Tara’s interest, of course.) You looked tired, with dark circles under your eye, wearing your hoodie and sweatpants. 

Even so, Tara still thought you were the most beautiful human being she had ever seen. She was practically having heart eyes and drooling at this point, with Mindy noticing her stare and grinning cheekily. 

“What’s up dude. Tough day at work?” Chad commented, trying to create a conversation. 

“You know it, man” you softly chuckled while locking the door. 

“Anyways, my friends are gonna be here for a while. I hope you don’t mind,”

“Not at all, I’m probably just going to take a nap anyways,” you replied, finally looking at the group of people staring you. 

Mindy gave you a nod, already knowing who you were from her brother. Anika smiled and waved at you, which you responded by giving a soft smile back. Sam was staring you down, which made you uncomfortable and creeped out but ignored her action. Tara was well, staring at you? But not how Sam stared at you, she had a blank look on her face. 

Once you left and went into the hallway to your room, Mindy decided make a certain Carpenter’s life a living hell. 

“Tara, are you blushing right now? I didn’t know you had a type” she teased

“Shut up, Mindy. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You guys don’t find her suspicious? Seriously?” Sam commented, wondering why they weren’t skeptical like they usually were when there was new people around. 

It wasn’t new, after the incident of Ghostface, they all had their guards up, scared to open up to new people, to new faces. 

“They’re nice, I promise. How about I call them out so you guys can get to know them? They’re Y/N, by the way” Chad suggested, trying to convince them (especially Sam) to get to know you better before jumping into conclusions that you were a serial killer. 

All of them collectively agreed, with Tara nodding with a slight tint on her cheeks. Chad went up to your room and called you out, suggesting that you should hang out with them. Tara assumed it went well, as Chad grinned toothily and walked away. 

You’ve really peaked her interest. She didn’t know she had a type. The people she had dated before didn’t really cast a spark on her.  She didn’t feel happy or enjoyed her time during those relationships. It felt like she was the problem, however the thought was down the drain after going to a few therapy sessions with Sam after the Ghostface incident. Through the sessions, Tara found out that she didn’t feel happy through the lack of trust and being paranoid that her partner would be a killer. That’s understandable, it’s not everyday that your (ex) girlfriend tries to murder you. 

However after seeing you for 10 seconds, her mind was clouded by you. She noticed that you were as tall as Chad and probably plays sports too, based on your physique. All she thought of was finding out more about you.  Do you study in Blackmore? What bike do you own? Do you prefer cats or dogs? Did you find her cute?

‘Come on, Tara. Get it together.’ She reminded herself  after that embarrassing thought. 

When she saw you come out with the same sweatpants, but with a black t-shirt that showed off your arm sleeve tattoo on your left arm, she was practically drooling. You looked hot as fuck. 

“Hey guys, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/N”

“I’m Tara,” she quickly replied, seeing Mindy and Anika grinning at each other with a knowing look from her peripheral vision. 

You gave a smile. You looked cute. You had that cute ass dimples no one could ever resist, Tara thought. You might be the death of her. 

The group settled down and decided to watch a movie, you sat the end of the couch while waiting for the movie to start. Mindy, being an (alleged) amazing wingman she is, literally forced Tara into sitting beside you by pushing her. She sat on the couch with a sigh, annoyed at Mindy’s antics and rolled her eyes. Sam was just giggling at the other side of the couch. 

As much as Sam didn’t trust you, she was glad that Tara could act like a normal teenager again. After multiple therapy sessions, she gave Tara a little bit of more freedom and let her make her own decisions, even if it’s distasteful to her. That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t tase someone in the balls again, though. 

You mistakenly thought the sigh Tara gave out was because she had to sit beside you. You had known about what happened to their group from Chad, after he poured his heart out when he was blackout drunk. You understood the group of friends can be lack trust and be suspicious of new people. 

“Sorry, did you want to sit with someone else? I can sit on the floor if you want-“

“No! I mean it’s okay, I don’t mind sitting with you,” Tara replied with a heavy tint on her cheeks, embarrassed at her sudden reaction. 

Throughout the movie, you were munching on your pizza, oblivious to the amount of times Tara took glances at you while trying to think of topics to create a conversation with you. 

“So..How do you find the movie?” Tara questioned you, trying to get to know you a little bit better. 

“It’s alright, though I prefer other scary movies. I definitely do have favourites.”

“Oh, what’s your favourite horror film?”

“I absolutely love The Babadook, it’s amazing because I..” Any words that you uttered out of that beautiful mouth of yours disappeared. The universe must be sending a sign, she needs you badly. There’s no way Chad’s super cute, hot roommate would coincidentally like The Babadook, Tara thought 

“Blah, blah, blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff..” was all she could hear. 

You on the other hand, only saw Tara staring at you blankly while she had her own inner turmoil and crisis.

“Uh, Tara..? You alright there?” you chuckled awkwardly.

“What? Oh, yeah sorry. I love The Babadook too! What’s your favourite scene?” Tara smoothly taught of a way to continue the conversation, silently cheering for herself. 

It took you both 2 horror films and a shared bag of popcorn to exchange numbers. Tara was secretly cheering in ecstasy of course. She would’ve jumped around and start dancing if she could. It was already close to midnight, and Sam decided that they should go back home before it’s too late to catch the last train.  Tara was devastated, she wished that she could’ve spent more time with you. 

“Soo, I’ll see you next time then? It was nice seeing you.” You initiated a conversation, seeing that Tara was pouting at Sam while trying to convince her into staying a little while longer

“Y-Yeah, see you. We should continue our horror fanatic activities again,” She chuckled, trying to prolong the moment. You nodded your head, giving her a soft smile while leading her, Sam, and the couple out of the apartment, since Chad was knocked out and asleep.

You took your last goodbyes with the group, even giving Sam a small wave, before closing the door. 

In the elevator, all Anika, Mindy and even Sam did was tease her on how red and lovestruck she looked. She didn’t pay any mind to it, all she could ever think of was you. 

[mistymisfit]

short hurt/comfort blurb

summary: reader is taken as hostage, Red Hodd comes to save her (roughly I'll write a better summary later lol)

wc: 2k

warnings: fem!reader, pre-established relationship ,reader being kidnapped (duh) and drugged, one nasty comment from the intentionally vague bad guy, mentions of blood, lots of violence, guns, etc, etc. (not beta read as always, so ill fix typos tomorrow lol) and non sexual nudity !

a/n: lowkey hate how this turned out, but have this as I'm finishing an actual fic.

You were cold, you have been cold for a while now. You don't know how long it's been or why you were kidnapped to begin with. They've always kept you in the same dark room, there are no windows and no light except for the one that shines through the space between the door and the floor. Your hands were chained in front of you to the floor, and they left some fabric tied around your mouth to keep you from screaming. Not like you had any strength in you to even do anything but hope and pray Jason could find you soon. You discarded the theory of it being human trafficking after the first few hours since they never touched you. In fact, you hadn't even seen the face of your captors. You've only heard faint voices in the distance, just enough to identify their accent but not enough to decipher what they said.

Or that was until you heard an argument right outside the door. One man, who sounded older, was chastising the other. You hear the words "die" and "overdose", but it is hard to keep your focus. Your own thoughts feel slow, having come to the realization way too late that they'd probably drugged you, and that's why your body felt so heavy. Then the door opens, and you have to close your eyes because it feels like the light is burning them. You barely manage to move your head away when some hands grab your shoulders. They sit you on the floor and shake you, and you want to react, but your body's barely able to move on its own.

"Kid? You alive?" One of them asks, and when they get no answer, they resort to shaking you harder. When that doesn't work either, a heavy hand delivers a hard slap to your face.

To that you finally let out a pained grunt, and you blink slowly until you open your eyes. The younger one sighs in relief, and the older says something about their boss killing them if you were dead. That leads you to believe you were there for a reason, maybe they found out you technically work with Red Hood and they're using you to get to him. Or worse, they found out you were dating.  

"That's it, stay awake" He lays you down on the floor again.

"What are we doing this for?" The younger one asks. He looks on edge, shaky with nerves. It may be his first time henching, or so you could guess.

"Dunno, boss told us to keep an eye on her until he needs her"

You're left again in the dark before you can even process what they looked like. And you're slightly grateful for it, at least your head didn't feel like exploding once they shut the door again. It feels like an eternity passes while you're still in that room. So you try to notice all the details you can, there's no traffic noise or any other type of noise for that matter. Once you get used to the dark, you also see the small puddle forming from the leak coming through the ceiling. Then you also try to remember how you got there, you were leaving... someplace, it's all fuzzy. But you do remember the hard blow to your head, and then waking up here.

You guess it must have been a couple of hours, that just felt longer to you, when you hear some commotion outside. Running, and clicking, probably from loading guns. The gunshots came later, and did not stop for long. The noise was incessant, along with yelling and words you couldn't make out. You weakly managed to curl up and cover your ears with your hands. And you stay tense in that position until you hear the creak of the door once more. You don't dare to move even when you hear the footsteps getting closer to you.

"Not a step closer" A man grabs your hair, pulling you up, and pressing the nuzzle of his gun to your temple. It feels hot against your skin, almost burning, so you could only assume it's been fired recently. You finally lay your eyes on Jason, or rather Red Hood, he's covered in blood, and you could swear his eyes were shining red under the hood and domino mask.

"Let her go" He's practically barking, you know he gets like this when he's scared. He starts attacking even when he's backed against a corner. You wouldn't notice, but he immediately recognized your lost gaze and weakened mobility. It was like seeing his mother all over again. And that, along with the red imprint across your face, made him even angrier.

"You sure she only works for you?" He taunts, and before Jason can do anything, he presses the gun harder into you as if daring him to try to make a move. "'cause if I had such a hot piece of ass on my payroll..."

You close your eyes tightly, tears falling from them. You're sure you hear Jason replying, telling him off, but you're too scared to pay attention to anything but the metal on your skin. That is until he uses it to push down the fabric against your mouth, he probably asked you something you didn't listen to.

He laughs, and adds: "Maybe my guys gave her a little too much to keep her calm"

Jason is about to explode with anger, the way he talks about you, and what he's done to you. The way he so easily messed with his people, his territory, and with his partner out of everyone. He'll make sure to make an example out of him for anyone who decides to mess with him in the future. So when the man pulls the trigger, only for a click to come out of his weapon, you let out a sigh in relief. And Jason charges at the guy, dragging him away from you and out of the room to deliver the beat down of his life. Hitting as hard as he could until he made sure the guy would stop breathing, and making it as painful as possible. Then, for good measure, he empties what's left of his magazine on his head and multiple parts of his body. The body's beaten beyond recognition, and now he's got even more blood splattered over him. But him, and everyone who works for him, were now dead, so at least you could rest assured no one could harm you and go unpunished.

He goes back, only to find you curled up once more, and holding your head. You flinch when his hand touches you, but he tries not to take it personally, he reminds you it's him and that you're okay as he unties the black bandanna pulled down on your neck. He removes the muzzle from his face and pulls down the hood when you raise your head to look at him, giving you a reassuring nod.

"Get me out of here" You beg, pulling on your chains. He nods, picking the lock as quick as he can. You cling to him once you're freed, and he notices how despite your effort, your grip is weak. Even when you pull on his clothes to get him close enough to kiss him.

He freezes for a second before tightly holding the back of your head with one hand, the other resting on your back to support you. He shouldn't, he should stop you and tell you to do this when you're in the right head space so he wouldn't feel as if he was taking advantage of you. But being so close to losing you, he can't find the will to tell you no. And he melts into your lips, red smearing both of you now. Violence is rewarded with affection, that's a first for him. You don't seem to care about what he's done to get to you, all that matters is that he did, and now you're with him.

"I'll take you to the ER" He runs his hand up and down your back to soothe you, but you start sobbing into his blood-soaked clothes anyways.

"No, no, please," you shake your head "I just wanna go home"

He agrees with just a nod, picking you up as he tries to shield you from seeing the bloodbath he left on his way to you. If anyone knew how to take care of a person in your state, it'd be him. The gruesome scene and trail of bodies were bound to get him in deep family trouble, but he couldn't seem to care about it. Not when it assured your safety. Once he's made sure you're holding tightly and buckled your helmet right, he speeds to his nearest safe house. Regretting getting there in his bike instead of a car, even if it allowed him to get there faster.

"I know you said home, but I can't risk anyone following-" He rambled while taking off your helmet.

"I get it" You cut him off, trying your best to smile and not look like you were about to throw up.

He's quiet leading you up to the apartment, it's an old building and it looks more or less abandoned. That's probably why he picked it, no nosy neighbors. The place is on the first floor, luckily since it had no elevator. Even though he still carried you up the stairs, and only set you down when you were in the bathroom.

"Right, I'll wait outside " His eyes avoid you as he leaves some clean towels near the shower.

"Wait,"Your voice is meek, almost scared. You stop him from leaving by hooking a finger on one of his belt loops  "stay with me, what if I pass out?"

He nods, helping you pull up your shirt. You look up at him, not uttering a word but willing him to take the mask off. Luckily, he understands your staring and does so, leaving it on the floor next to your discarded clothes. Then he kneels in front of you, pulling your pants down, and you hold onto his shoulders as you step out of them. You mouth a quiet thank you when he looks up to you, right before he leaves a soft kiss on your hip and then on your stomach. His grip on your waist feels desperate, clinging not to let you go ever again.

"I'm okay," You reassure, but when his eyes meet yours again, they're brimmed with tears. You untie the bandages around his forearms, guiding him to take his clothes off too.

Jason's trying really hard not to cry right now, and you know it so when you walk in the the shower you turn your back to him to give him some space. But don't fail to notice how the water running down the drain turns red when he kisses the top of your head and stays close to you. He does a great job of gently cleaning you up, and so do you, washing the blood off him once you do turn around. You don't say anything about it or the bruised knuckles or any other bruise for that matter. He's thankful for that, thankful he didn't lose you or that you haven't opposed his methods. You stay under the warm water for a little longer after you're done, holding on to him and breathing slowly as his hand soothes you by tracing circles on your back.

"Jay?" You look up to him.

"Hm?"

"It's not your fault"

"I know," He replies, and you immediately think liar, you do think it's your fault. But don't have the will to argue with him, yet, so you settle for leaving a kiss on his bicep. "You wanna go to bed now?"

"You'll lay down with me?" He hums in response, closing the faucet behind you.He wraps you in a surprisingly soft and warm towel, then helps you dry off and put on some of the spare clothes he kept there. For the rest of the night, he'd watch you until you get down from whatever they gave you, make sure you don't stop breathing or choke on your own vomit. He'd worry and insist on breaking up tomorrow when you feel better and have the strength to argue and call him an idiot for it, when you are able to think better than him and insist you'd always be safer with him rather than without him.

[nhlclover]

DRESS JURAJ SLAFKOVSKY

pairing: juraj slafkovsky x fem!reader

summary: caught up in a secret romance with juraj, you find yourself toeing the line between desire and discretion.

warnings: owners daughter x juraj slafkovsky, heated makeout, sort of nsfw? but not really

wc: 2.07k

notes: loosely based on 'dress' & 'i can see you' by taylor swfit. first piece for my mannnnnz. also if you're curious about what dress i'm picturing, it's this dress!

Juraj Slafkovsky was bound to get you in trouble one day.

You knew it was inevitable. From the moment your dad tasked you with handing him his jersey when he was drafted, your fingertips brushing against each other, you knew that he was going to turn your world upside down.

And that he did. Your crush on Juraj burned intensely.

It started off innocently, as these things do — fleeting glances during short conversations after games, quick smiles when you would run into one another at the Bell Centre. It didn’t take long for those small, little interactions to evolve into something more. At first, you convinced yourself it was harmless. You were just being polite, maybe a bit friendly, but certainly nothing more. You didn’t want to get caught up in something you couldn’t handle, especially with him — someone so high-profile, someone who had the potential to disrupt the balance in your life completely.

But Juraj had a magnetic pull, an easy charm that made it impossible to stay away from him. There was something about him that made you feel noticed like you weren’t just another face in the crowd, but someone he genuinely enjoyed being around. You would catch yourself overanalyzing every single moment: Did he look at you a little too long? Did he stand just a little too close? It felt silly, but you couldn’t help it.

It didn’t take long before you both began to seek each other out in the arena after games, slipping into hidden corners or meeting up in quiet hallways, even just to have a short conversation and be in each other's presence. Those encounters felt charged, buzzing with an unspoken tension. Each time, you found yourself pushing boundaries, flirting just a little more boldly, and testing the waters to see how much you could get away with. And then, one night after a big win, it happened.

He caught you, standing next to your dad, watching Martin St. Louis's post-game speech in the locker room. Your eyes were not on the head coach, delivering an impassioned speech about the win they’d just achieved, but rather they were on the Slovak still sitting in his gear, sweat-drenched hair sticking to his forehead. Juraj alike was not listening to his coach, but instead staring at you, like you were the only person in the room. At that moment, something shifted. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the victory or the way your gazes were making you feel like the only people in the room. Either way, it felt like neither of you could wait a second longer.

As soon as possible, after media was done and Juraj was back in his gameday suit, you were pulled into a side closet. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours in a kiss that was as desperate as it was inevitable.

After that, there was no turning back. You fell into a rhythm that felt comfortable but thrilling, a secret only the two of you shared. You didn’t talk much about what it meant, and neither of you tried to define it. You didn’t need to; you were both content with the way things were. Stolen moments when you could finally be alone, sneaking out of the house to Juraj’s apartment, and even sneaking Juraj in one night in a dangerous attempt at just being together.

There was a softness in how he treated you that was at odds with his towering presence on the ice. He would brush a stray hair from your face, or wrap you in his arms with a gentleness that made you feel safe, cherished even. But the reality of your situation always lingered in the back of your mind. You knew you couldn’t stay in this secret forever; he was bound to attract attention sooner or later, and you couldn’t risk your dad finding out. Not yet, at least.

Tonight, though, was different. The grand, polished event left no room for any sort of private rendezvous. You were expected to play your part, mingling with sponsors and season ticket holders, smiling by your father’s side. But from the moment you arrived, you could feel Juraj’s gaze on you, the intensity of his stare almost enough to melt the composure you fought so hard to maintain. You didn’t dare look at him directly — not with your dad beside you, not with so many eyes around.

Juraj couldn’t stop staring at you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of the deep purple dress that had a deep neckline, as well as a long slit up your left leg, exposing your thigh that Juraj kept imagining placing kisses along the inside of.

He didn’t know how he’d managed to keep his composure so far, how he could even focus on the mind-numbing conversations he was being pulled into by donors and sponsors when all he wanted was to close the distance between you. The way the dress hugged your curves, the delicate fabric resting against your skin, it was as if every detail had been designed specifically to drive him insane.

Juraj’s jaw tightened as he watched you laugh at something your dad said, the sound carrying to him where he stood only a few feet away, the closest he’d been all evening. He clenched his fists, trying to shake off the impatience gnawing at him. Finally, an idea sparked. He’d seen a stack of napkins on the refreshment table, and the thought struck him. He casually picked one up, borrowed a pen from the waiter passing by, and, hiding it in his palm, scribbled a note on the napkin. He took his chance when your father’s attention was elsewhere, moving to your side just long enough to slip the napkin into your hand.

Feeling the subtle brush against your fingers as he pressed something small and folded into your hand, you didn’t dare look, let alone react to his presence. As soon as he’d drifted by and back into the crowd, you turned and glanced into your hand: a napkin with a hastily scrawled message in his looping handwriting.

“Meet me in 10 in the locker room.”

A flutter of excitement rose up in your chest as you tucked the note away in your purse. It felt like an eternity waiting for the minutes to pass, pretending to be engaged in polite conversation while your mind raced, anticipation building with each second. Finally, you excused yourself, slipping away towards the benches and down the tunnel where you knew the locker room was. As you neared the entrance, the silence made your heart beat even faster. You entered slowly, the room dimly lit and empty.

You stepped in, glancing around. “Juraj?” you called out softly. The room remained silent as you ventured in further, the clicking of your heels muffled by the carpeting.

You wandered deeper into the locker room, glancing around at the space usually bustling with activity but now eerily quiet. The benches were pristine, the air filled with the faint scent of musky hockey gear that no amount of heavy-duty cleaning products could mask. The neatly arranged stalls bore the player's name above them, their personal items tucked into place with a casual order.

You stopped in front of Juraj’s stall, looking at all the items that filled it. Setting your purse down on the bench, you ran your fingers along the edge of his stall. Your gaze fell to a compartment below where his skates were kept. You nudged the compartment open and peered inside. A folded towel, some extra tape, and a single, stray hockey puck lay there.

“Looking for something?”

You jumped, dropping the lid to the compartment which slammed down. You whipped around, spotting Juraj leaning on the frame of the doorway with a smirk on his face. His suit was perfectly tailored, and his hair just the way you liked it — soft and slightly unruly. You couldn’t hide your smile as you took him in, your cheeks warming.

“You look incredible tonight,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

He took a step closer, his gaze trailing down the length of you before meeting your eyes. “Not as good as you,” he murmured, his eyes smoldering. His eyes trail your figure, and you can tell his mind is thinking a million thoughts that you are begging to hear. You need to hear all the things he’s thinking about saying and doing to you.

“What are you thinking right now?” you asked, unable to keep yourself from smiling despite your teeth biting down on your bottom lip.

“What am I thinking?” Juraj asked, you nodding. “C’mon y/n… don’t make me spell it out for you. You know I want you.”

You swallowed but kept your gaze steady. “Then come over here and do something about it.”

He didn’t hesitate. In one smooth movement, he closed the space between you, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. Your arms wound around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled you close, hands roaming down the curve of your waist. Every touch, every brush of his lips felt like a release of all the pent-up tension from the evening. His kisses grew deeper, hungrier, and you melted into him, feeling his warmth seeping into you.

As he pulled back slightly to catch his breath, his eyes moved over you appreciatively. “God, this dress,” he murmured, almost in awe, his hands tracing the outline of your waist.

You smirked. “You like it?”

He opened his mouth as if to speak but only managed a quiet exhale, seemingly lost for words.

“Well,” you continued, a teasing glint in your eye, “I hope you’re not too attached because I bought it just to watch you take it off me.”

A playful grin tugged at his lips. “That’s great,” he said, voice a little husky, “because I don’t like it, anyway.” His lips found yours again, his hands roaming down to the small of your back, where his fingers brushed against the zipper. You felt a thrill rush through you as he gently began to slide it down before you remembered where you were and let out a small laugh, stopping him.

“We can’t, Juraj,” you whispered, giving him a gentle push. “Not here. It would be basically sacrilegious if we had sex here.”

He groaned, dipping his head to press a trail of kisses along your neck. “It’s fine,” he murmured between kisses, “as long as we don’t do it on the logo.”

You let out a laugh, Juraj feeling the vibration against his lips as he worked his way down to your clavicle. You exhaled, fighting to keep your thoughts straight as his lips moved against your skin. “We really shouldn’t, Juraj,” you managed, your voice more breathless than you intended. “If we’re gone too long, my dad’s going to notice I’m missing.”

Juraj paused, his eyes glinting with a mischievous smile. “We can be quick,” he whispered into your ear, pressing a light kiss to the lobe.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Juraj, c’mon, the last thing we need is being caught having sex in the locker room. You’d never hear the end of it if we got caught.”

Juraj sighed, his forehead pressing gently against yours, his hands rubbing slow, warm circles on your hips. “Fine, fine,” he murmured, his tone playful but with an edge of disappointment. He reached back around and pulled the zipper back up as if nothing had ever been out of place. “But you’re making this incredibly hard, you know?”

You grinned, placing a soft kiss on his cheek before slipping out of his grasp. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He watched you, a flicker of frustration mingling with amusement in his expression. “We’re finishing what we started later.”

“Only if you behave,” you teased, walking backward toward the door, your eyes never leaving his. “Now go on, try to look like you’re not dying inside when you rejoin everyone.”

“Easier said than done,” he muttered, adjusting his tie, still watching you with a longing that made your heart skip. “But alright, I’ll try.”

As you walked back down the hallway, you caught his gaze one last time, and it was filled with a promise. Whatever had started between you was far from over. And tonight had only deepened the thrill of it all.

[curtins]

BORN TO DIE — Geto Suguru minors dni!

prologue. → it's been three years since suguru left all you had ever known, crumbling it into the fine dust of the earth. a suspiciously timed mission from gojo leads you right into the arms of the man you swore to kill. well, fuck him right?

pairing. geto suguru x afab!reader

warnings+. implied/mild gojo x reader, lovers to enemies, or enemies to lovers, past relationship, injuries, mentions of blood, reader is lowkey violent, some establishing plot idk, geto is kind a jerk (well he's a cult leader so) but hes also down bad, making out, doing it raw and desparate (wrap it before yall tap it!), creámpie etc, minor mentions of infidelity, ríde him until he sees stars trope, minor implied stsg, suguru lowkey a messy slút for this <3 🩵

word count. 4.5k song inspiration. born to die — lana del rey

a/n. heehee

mp3.. my heart it breaks every step that i take, but i'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine

ask to be added to a taglist! likes and reblogs appreciated <3

fuck suguru geto.

literally.

it had been days of you tracking down a mere rumour of curses that haunted this side of the mountain, and you know you're close — close enough to feel the cold prickling along your skin, ripe with cursed energy with that taste of something unnatural and spectral in the air.

gojo had delegated this mission to you, claiming that you had a natural born talent for hunting curses, but you knew the truth was that he had laid on the flattery thick, so that he could kiss you chastely on the cheek, go take a day off, and let you handle this one on your own.

but just as you raise your hand to cast a light, a flash of movement catches your, a fleeting gleam, drawing you off the trail before you even realise where you're going.

you round the grove, and the sight ahead steals the breath from you. through the night's shadows, a pale blue light pulses, illuminating a tall figure whose outstretched hand has already grasped the curse, right into a neat orb.

it would take only a heartbeat to recognise the sorcerer, but you feel as though your heart has leapt into your throat, your blood pulsing under the thin skin, with such dizzying shock. your chest has tightened, and each breath is laced with something sharp and electric — not sadness, nor grief.

anger.

suguru geto.

you swallow against the burning in your throat, his features are half-lit by the eerie glow of his cursed technique, and yet they are sharper than you remembered, refined and all the more hauntingly familiar.

but he's turned, with his raven hair spilling over his shoulders, and violet eyes meet your own, and you scowl as his lips curl up, voice smooth as he speaks.

"hey. it's been a while."

"you...you — fuck you!"

ugh, now it's just embarrassing. you had spent three years, pondering and wondering what cutting words you'd deliver upon suguru geto when you saw him again. and now you can barely get a sputter out without your eyes wandering over him.

geto raises a singularly arched brow, "don't you think we should catch up first?"

"i should kill you," you wonder if your fractured voice betrays how quite literally unravelled you feel right now, like the earth has fallen out beneath you, and you're not sure if you're moving towards him, or taking a step back, "oh my god, i should actually just kill you."

you wonder how you should do it. draw a blade and let it kiss his skin, to see red split out from his throat. or if you just forgo a weapon and push the air from him until his creamy skin is red and bruised.

but he's beautiful, he's so beautiful and it leaves you wondering if this is how orpheus felt when he turned around in that tunnel, and saw eurydice again. if he was also planted in the ground, unable to move at the sight of what his heart most wanted.

the boy who once broke your heart is now a man, draped in robes of deep purple and green, and gold. a man with ghostly eyes that leave you unsure on whether you're furious, or wanting.

still wanting to wrap your hands around his throat, perhaps. you tamp down any other traitorous thought.

"what's your business here?" you manage, and you wonder if he can hear a tremor, and a crack where all that hurt was buried when you were seventeen years old.

but geto just smiles, "you don't think i'd notice the presence of a curse on my own estate? or a jujutsu sorcerer? you've come a long way, haven't you?"

"huh - your estate?"

ah, it hits you, as you follow your line of sight behind geto's head, past the thick trees that you've been wandering in, to where silver rods strike up, out into the dark sky — the roof of what's clearly an important building, the time vessel association.

you cross your arms, "you mean your bullshit cult?" you wonder how quick you can pull out a knife, one of several that you must have taken with you on your missions.

now it's his turn to scowl at you, and a petulant expression dances across his face, but geto doesn't address your barb, "you've come a long way, did satoru send you here?"

you bark out a laugh, "that's gojo to you now."

now he’s right in front of you, and you force yourself not to swallow or betray even a flicker of nerves.

you hold his gaze, determined and unwavering but geto has always been tall, his frame deceptively broad beneath the layers of his robes, but standing this close, you catch the heady scent of allspice and sandalwood, maybe even some ceremonial incense.

"oh, i'm sorry. only you get to call him satoru now, is that right?"

you're not stupid, you know that there's an undertone of a question in his snarky tone, well fuck him. you don't owe him an answer of what your life has been like in the past three years (nor what gojo's has been like, for that matter).

he watches you for an answer, with a face as elegent as an idol in an ancient shrine, pale and luminous against the moon-lit sky. you briefly wonder how a tall, beautiful boy who floated around campus with headphones around his neck, and an obscure band-tee, had managed to peel off his skin and carve himself into something more holy, like a heian-era deity.

"suguru," you finally breathe, and your head feels jumbled and aching. he tilts his head, lips parted, as if he's been waiting for his name to fall from your lips, and he's savouring it.

"come with me," he says simply, gesturing to the shadowed building behind him, and his hand lingers in the air, as his pale, slender fingers reach towards your own, "just this once, you don't have to tell him, y'know."

yes, you know. you should refuse, fuck, you should have been grinding his blood into the earth, for the night has no time for traitors. and if you were to take his hand, it would make you one as well.

oh, how easily suguru geto has always been able to unravel you, and all you've ever known or believed in.

suguru's fingers are like ice as they close around your wrist, with a firm but unhurried grip, pulling you along that makes resistance feel almost laughable.

you try to twist free, but he only glances back, with a teasing smile over his face, "still as defiant as ever," he murmurs, and you're not sure whether your cheeks are flushed from how he's drinking the sight of you in.

"i wouldn't be if you weren't dragging me through this place like some prisoner."

suguru laughs, "is that what you are?" and a dangerous, dormant merriment glints in his violet eyes, "i thought you'd come with me willingly."

his voice is maddeningly calm, as if this was some routine rendezvous, as if he hadn’t walked out of your life three years ago and left nothing but emptiness behind. suguru leads you down a long hallway lined with tall, flickering candles, their dim glow casting eerie shadows across the stone walls. it's so quiet you can hear your own breathing, each inhale tinged with the scent of incense that lingers on his robes.

you give another half-hearted tug against his grip, but his hold only tightens, but he stops, looking down at you, his gaze softening, almost pitying. "save your strength. we’re nearly there. and i need you to behave, and be quiet."

you hate the way your heart races at his touch, at his command, at the intimacy of this shadowed corridor that seems to belong to no one but the two of you.

"and where exactly are you taking me, suguru?" you ask, voice brittle.

"patience. you'll see soon enough."

he leads you forward again, each step echoing through the silence until he finally stops at a large, dark-stained wooden door. his fingers slide away from your wrist, leaving your skin tingling in their absence, and your own fingers curl outwards wanting to reach for his again before you tuck your hand away shamefully.

you can see his smile out of the corner of his eye. he knows this, and more.

but now suguru glances back, his eyes gleaming in the low light. "you came all this way," he says, voice low. "i thought you wanted to catch up."

yeah. catch up.

that's exactly what you'd call it when you barrel through the doors alongside him, and push your mouth against his, hearing the satisfying breath that he draws before he's moving against you too.

you lean into suguru, feeling the heat radiate from his broad body as every nerve in your skin awakens as his lips crash against yours with a fervour that leaves you breathless. it's been three long years since you last felt this, anything, like this and you fight back whatever demon lurches within you — an ode to bittersweet rage, longing and want.

you can taste him in your mouth, a mix of mint and even something sweeter, and it stings you, pricks at every cut he must be leaving over you. but suguru's hands grip your waist, and you wonder if he feels just as you do. but he must, for his arms have pulled you in, anchoring you onto his chest, as if he's afraid you might slip away (just as he had, from you).

you don't know where the tears came from, but salt runs down your cheeks, mingling in with your kisses, and you take a moment to pull away from him, and trace his face with shaking fingers.

"i should hate you," you breathe out, but how can you when he stares down at you as if you've reached into his chest and clawed his heart out. a killer, a traitor, a murderer. but it's still him all the same.

but his lips are now on your face, as his tongue runs over the streaked sorrow, licking it right up, "don't," and now his tone is pleading, suguru geto is pleading above you, "i can't live with you hating me. just let me do this."

he leans into your more deeply and your hands move instinctively, slipping beneath the soft fabric of his robes, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. you explore the contours of his muscles, tracing the lines of his body, every touch igniting a spark that sends shivers through you, makes your own core feel heavy.

it's delicious how his breath hitches as you slide your hand even lower, past the waistband of his pants, right where the hard evidence of his desire is plain, and there's a satisfying rush of power that courses through you at his response, at the breath of air suguru rushes through his teeth in a low keen as he separates yourself from your panting mouth, to trail his soft lips on the sensitive skin lower.

his teeth briefly sink into the juncture of your neck, and you jolt at the brief pain before he runs his tongue over the fresh marks, soothing, hot.

his large hands are both under your top now, moving over the expanse of your stomach and up, up until they cup both your breasts, pinching, and twirling and leaving you slick with the arousal that has gathered at the apex of your thighs.

"so pretty, ah! so - pretty," suguru breathes, and you quirk your lips up as he lowers you slowly to the mat. he'd let you to quite a bare room, with nought in it save for the floor and the walls, but you're honestly content with him having his way with you like this.

you should feel guilty, you should be seeing blue eyes peering up at you from between your thighs, white hair plastered with the sweat of exertion.

but instead, all you see is the twilight sky, brushstrokes of black and dusky violet as suguru takes his place on his chiselled stomach, as you feel the mat press into your shoulder blades while you lay flat on your back.

"stay with me, gorgeous," he murmurs, his breath warm against the skin of your thighs. his plush lips brush against your mound, and you squirm and shake from the need, the need to feel his mouth lower and you cannot help but just arch into him, mewling as he starts drifting his fingers down.

"oh my god, oh!," you're almost embarrassed to be put in this position, moaning like a wanton whore, but you can't just bring yourself to stop, "fuck, suguru. can you please -"

and you're bucking your hips up towards his mouth, begging him to get a hint, and give you a hit of the pleasure that you're so craving.

but suguru stares at you flatly, and then in between your legs almost methodically, like he's waiting for something, and the flat of his palm rests heavy over your clothed cunt.

"i don't think so," he mutters, "tell me something first," and he's playing with the elastic band of your underwear, pulling it to the side before snapping it back, thwack!

"tell me you don't hate me. i need to hear you say it, that you never hated me," and you can feel a new bruise bloom on the inner corner of your thigh from his teeth's ministrations.

"i don't hate you! please, suguru, i could never, ah! -" and you don't get the chance to even finish your sentence before the man is pressing his tongue straight to the damp, translucent patch of fabric that's been soaked with your slick.

his teeth have caught on the fabric deliberately, and he's pulling the fabric, up and up, and the sight makes you so incredibly delirious that you wonder how on earth you're going to recover after this.

and to your credit, his eyes have gone wide, and hazy even — and you enjoy watching him swallow, adam's apple bobbing as suguru seems so entirely pussydrunk, just from you alone.

oh, now you have an idea, and so you pull yourself up and onto him, and he lets you push him down so your positions are reversed. he looks so beautiful like this, dark hair splayed out and falling over his flushed face, as you straddle his thighs, lewdly dripping over his robes as you try to gain some friction from the fabric.

"you're so desparate, baby. didn't think you'd be so — mmph! fuck!" it seems that all it takes to shut suguru geto up is a well-intentioned roll of your hips against his groin, and his hands shoot up to find their place on your waist, rubbing small circles over your hipbones.

you let out a shaky laugh, leaning down to press your lips to his again, "yeah, that's what i thought," and you kiss him, quick and almost outstandingly chaste, and you grin in satisfaction as he leans up again to chase your lips as soon as you separate.

as moonlight spills into the room, you decide to make short work of his robes, reaching underneath the silk to part the fastening, revealing the smooth ripple of muscle underneath, illuminated like godly marble in the silver light. suguru's gaze is fixed on you, his breath shaky and quickening, as he lets you trace your nails lightly over his abdomen.

taking a quick breath, your fingers slide beneath the waistband of his pants once more, and you relish at how suguru's entire body tenses at your touch, his breath hitching, "oh, fuck! right there," as your hands make contact with his cock, feeling the soft skin and the steel underneath. it's large, and heavy in your hands and you gulp, and realise now he's enjoying your reactions.

"there you go, you've had your fun," he breathes out, before shifting your hips back till you're situated right over his cock, "now, let me handle this."

you're barely given a few seconds to catch your breath before he sheathes himself, gliding straight into you thanks to the obscene amount of arousal practically weeping from your cunt, and you keen up at the sky, writhing from the delicious stretch of his wide cock that's made its home in your gummy walls.

"oh, ahh - suguru! wait, let me -," and you shift yourself, groaning as you feel his cock right in the sweetest spots, so you're in his embrace and he gladly envelops his arms around you, bringing you closer and planting desparate, hot kisses on your skin as your nails create crescents in his smooth skin.

suguru seems just as whipped as you are, gone from this mortal plane of the earth and onto a higher level of existence, just from your pretty, tight pussy that's holding him together, "keep doing that, pretty, look how. good. you. take. me."

and each word is punctuated by suguru's hips bullying into yours, pushing his cock deeper and further than you thought you could ever handle, as his mouth pants under yours, "taking it like a fuckin' champ. missed this, missed this so much."

you missed it too, chasing after the feeling of threading your fingers through his soft black locks, feeling him shudder as you scraped your nails down the back of his head,

"yeah, that's it," oh, suguru's always been mouthier like this, when you're sucking up him so deliciously, ramming his hips and angling them in a way that has your abdomen tingling, and has your eyes (and his) seeing stars and the heavens.

he taps his shoulders, where his dark robes have slipped off, revealing the smooth expanse of toned muscle and hot skin, "hands here, baby. keep you steady, yeah?"

and you plant your hands on his chest, determined to swivel your hips in a way that has you gasping for air, and glancing down right where - fuck, where you can quite literally see his bulge through your skin.

"oh, suguru! ah, keep doing that!" you desperately hope that these premises were vacated, for your unrestrained moans must have been rippling through the thin walls, strained and throaty as they bounced off wood.

and you just couldn't pull your eyes away from the sight of him, intoxicating as he was. suguru under you, broad chest heaving as he caught his breath with every rock of your hips — with a flush painting his creamy skin, framed by dark strands of hair that fanned messily around his face, falling in careless waves over his forehead and brushing against his cheekbones.

you couldn't help yourself, curling your fingers in the unruly halo and drawing him up, closer to your face as his crimson-bitten lips parted slightly, clacking around a deep groan.

his mauve eyes lifted away from the swell of your chest once more, hazy with exhaustion, but they softened as they met your own gaze with an almost reverent, quiet awe. even lying there, while you quite literally rode him to hell and back, cunt pulsing against his cock in a way that left you both breathless, he looked at you as if you were some vision, and his rosy-bruised mouth curled again.

"always thought you - hah - looked like a dream," he murmured, his gaze tracing your face as if he were committing every detail to memory, "i used to think that i had forgotten, or tried to forget how beautiful you were, are."

"but now," and he bucks his hips into a steady tempo, a constant allegro, "seeing you here, like this as if you were made for fuckin' me, how could i ever forget?"

his fingers are still under your top, brushing against your spine and you mewl, pressed close enough to him so your breasts press against the hard planes of his chest.

"stay a little longer, yeah?" he whispers, "just let me look at you, fuck! don't think i'd ever be able to stop lookin' at you anyway. can't get enough of you," and he reaches a hand in between your thighs, finding your swollen clit and beginning to run soft circles around it with the pads of his fingers, "don't think i'll ever get enough."

it's becoming too much, the harsh smack of his skin against yours, the feeling of your throbbing clit being showered with white-hot attention from his quick hands, the counter of his dense shaft gliding down your pliable walls, spanning them out until you can feel him so deep within you, "fuck, it's too good - mmph, way too good, i can't -"

you're practically tangled in his arms, in the arms of a man who should have been an enemy, a traitor, one who crumbled all that you held once dear. but his chest rises and falls erratically against yours, and you can feel him heartbeat jump, grounding you in the most unbearable way,

his fingers are now bruising your hips, leaving marks that you're sure (in the back of your mind, somewhere that's still rational) satoru would easily be able to recognise but you can't bring yourself to care.

you can't tell whose tears are staining the fabric of his robes between you, his or yours. the line between the two of you blurs as much as the fog in your mind from the way his cock has driven into you, made its imprint in a way that you'll never forget.

"suguru -" you're wondering if your poor, torn heart will just simply give out now, why is it so hard to breathe? each press of his fingers against your clit has you moaning over the shell of his ear, "i'm close, hah, i'm so close, suguru."

he chuckles weakly, bubbling from him and mingled in with a grunt, "yeah, i fuckin' know. i know." and his soaked fingers are still drawing circles in your sticky arousal that's leaking from you, over his cock, over his robes, dampening the dark trail of hair that coats his groin.

"always been mine." and as he bites your neck, teeth sinking into you, you feel the coil in your abdomen snap! and god, you don't think you could ever go back. not like this.

you can't even imagine the picture you must paint now, lips parted and open as you feel yourself being rocked through your orgasm in a way that leaves you untethered from the earth. how the spasm of your walls must finally trigger his own release, and suddenly he's stiffened too as thick, creamy ropes of his seed find their home in you, "see, mine. always mine, don't go soft on me now, pretty. oh my god, fuck!"

all you can truly do is let him handle you now, let his arms tighten and pull you in as close as possible, so his teeth are tugging on your lips, kissing right into your mouth as you ride out the stars of your own release, tears springing to your eyes once more from the overstimulation, hands digging into the woven mat under him.

later, you lie in suguru's arms, wrapped up entirely in the exhausation (and guilt, oh fuck, the guilt of what you've done) of the world, and everything else feels hazy and irrelevant. the steady rhythm of his breath in small puffs is the only thing grounding you, the warmth of his chest rising and falling against yours. he's tracing soft lines across your back, like he's trying to memorise the feel of you.

"suguru," you whisper, your voice breaking once more on his name, lips close to the damp skin of his neck. you're not sure if you're still crying, or if this is the quietest, most intimate form of surrender that has replaced the weathered storm.

he doesn't speak for a long moment, but his grip has tightened on you, as though he's trying to draw you even closer, like your soul will meld into his, "don't," and his voice is ragged raw, "you don't have to leave just yet."

the quiet desperation in his words cracks your heart, and for the first time in three years, the distance between the man who had become a shadow, and the boy you once knew feels almost unrecognisable.

his face turns toward yours, his eyes searching yours, as if he’s looking for something to anchor him, something to give him the assurance that all the destruction he’s caused, all the distance between you, can still be undone.

but you’re not sure if it’s possible.

you want to say something, anything, but the words lodge in your throat, too heavy and too tangled to escape. you let your hand rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart, matching the pace of your own.

"i don’t know if i can stay, suguru," you say, "how can we go back to what we were?"

"then let me make it up to you," he says softly, his voice shaking with a quiet urgency, as though this is the last chance he’ll ever have. "let me show you what i've built here. that you don’t have to leave."

if you stay, you risk losing yourself. you risk losing the anger that you had cherished, and treasured, nurtured and held onto. the anger that had guided you through the world. still, as you meet his gaze, something inside of you shifts. maybe it’s the way his hands slide gently up your back, steady and sure.

"please," he breathes again, his forehead resting gently against yours. "don’t leave. do not do to me, what i should never have done to you."

the moonlight spills through the cracks of the window, and it brings to mind the flicker of bright blue eyes, six eyes, alongside their warmth and steady presence, and you wonder if the earth will swallow you whole for what you've done.

you should never have come here. you shouldn’t have allowed yourself to get caught up in suguru's gravity again, shouldn’t have let him pull you back into this mess of old feelings and broken promises.

suguru's low, tired laugh pulls you from your thoughts, his breath warm against your skin. he pulls back slightly, his dusky eyes gleaming with something you can’t quite place — a spark of surprise, maybe amusement, even a little mockery, but there is no lie in his eyes.

"satoru?" he says, the name slipping from his lips with a touch of disbelief. "you really think he hasn’t visited me in the past three years either?"

[iamgonnagetyouback]

ivyyyyyyyy i think a frostbite with barty and "tell me three reasons why I should put up with you." "well, for starters, I'm cute." would be super adorable in your style <333 congrats again mwah

Carinaaaaa, thank you so much, love!! <333 You get me and my dramatic muse (˶ˆᗜˆ˵) I swear he’s my spirit animal in his over-the-top glory! I’m so glad you think he and my style fit well together, that means the world (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) And thank you for the congrats, mwah!

ivy's 1k celebration ❄️ navigation ❄️ prompt list

ˋ°•*⁀➷ BARTY CROUCH JR #44: "Tell me three reasons why I should put up with you." "Well, for starters, I'm cute."

You sigh, looking over at Barty with an eyebrow raised, fighting the urge to roll your eyes as he leans lazily against the wall, his hands stuffed in his pockets. You’re not sure what he’s done this time to drive you up the wall, but he’s certainly acting like he hasn’t just spent the last twenty minutes making it his life’s mission to be a menace.

“Tell me three reasons why I should even put up with you,” you say, arms crossed and giving him an unimpressed look.

Barty’s eyes spark mischievously, clearly ready to meet your challenge with enthusiasm. He straightens up, putting on a look of mock-seriousness as he dramatically flips an imaginary lock of hair over his shoulder, like he's about to deliver a line from a play.

“Welllllll,” he begins, drawing out the word as if he’s really contemplating it, “for starters, I’m cute.” He flashes you a grin that’s as smug as it is endearing, the corners of his mouth curving up like he’s already won.

You can’t help it—you scoff, rolling your eyes at him as you cross your arms tighter. “Yeah, sure, you’re cute.”

To your surprise, Barty’s face lights up in a way that’s so genuine it makes you falter for just a second. His eyes glint with excitement, and he practically beams at you, looking like a kid who’s just been handed a massive candy bar. “Oh! So you do think I’m cute!” he practically shouts, clearly reveling in the supposed compliment.

You can’t believe how easily he’s fallen for that, and a smirk tugs at your lips. You’re not going to let him have his little victory so easily. “If by ‘cute,’ you mean overly obnoxious, a bane to my existence, an insufferable little gremlin with no respect for personal space, then yes. You’re adorable,” you say, layering each word with as much sarcasm as you can muster.

Barty gasps, clutching his chest dramatically like he’s just been mortally wounded. “How could you?!” His voice cracks as he stumbles backward, casting you a wounded look as if you’ve stabbed him with betrayal itself. He clutches an invisible wound on his chest, stumbling back to collapse onto the couch like a tragic hero in the final act of his life. “Obnoxious? A gremlin? A bane to your existence?! How could you say such hurtful things? I thought we had something special!”

By now, you’re laughing despite yourself, trying to cover your mouth as a few giggles slip out. Barty peeks from under his hand, clearly pleased to have gotten a reaction out of you, his face breaking into a victorious grin as he sees your shoulders shaking with laughter.

“See?” he says, dropping the act entirely and flashing you that ever-smug grin. “That’s reason two: I make you laugh, and you know you love it.” He wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, looking at you with such exaggerated confidence that it’s impossible not to laugh harder.

“Oh, Merlin,” you mutter, trying to compose yourself even as he gazes at you with the utmost satisfaction. “I don’t know if I ‘love’ it, but you sure do keep things interesting.”

Barty pretends to be offended, once again clutching his chest like he’s barely holding himself together. “Only ‘interesting’? Treasure, please, don’t shortchange me,” he says, rolling his eyes in mock despair. “I’m magnificent. I’m a vision. A one-of-a-kind gem in your otherwise humdrum life. Who else brings the kind of sparkle, the absolute pizzazz, that I do?”

You try to keep a straight face as you reply, “Pizzazz? The only ‘pizzazz’ you bring is when you manage to knock over three things in a row and try to play it off like it was intentional.”

He gasps again, this time managing to look somehow even more insulted. “You think I’m clumsy?” he asks, eyes wide with faux horror. “No, no, my love, that’s just me leaving a mark on the world, showing my… my undeniably charming presence.”

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it now?” you reply, trying to fight back a grin. “And here I thought it was just you being a klutz.”

Barty sniffs, lifting his chin with a dignified air. “Well, I don’t expect you to understand the intricacies of my charm, Treasure. It’s a rare gift, one that mere mortals such as yourself might struggle to comprehend.”

“Rare gift?” you echo, chuckling as he leans into his own grandeur. “If anything, it’s a rare torture.”

He laughs, clearly enjoying every second of your banter. “Oh, admit it,” he says, leaning forward, “you’d be absolutely miserable without me. Who else would provide you with endless entertainment, constant compliments, and the kind of delightful companionship that I do?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, trying to look as unimpressed as possible. “Endless entertainment, maybe. As for companionship… I think I could find quieter, less ego-inflated options.”

He gasps yet again, stumbling back into the couch as if he’s been struck. “Quieter? Quieter? How could you even suggest such a thing? The silence would be deafening, and you’d be haunted by the memory of my delightful voice, echoing in the void.”

“Haunted by your voice? That sounds more like a nightmare than a fond memory,” you say with a grin, unable to keep up the unimpressed act much longer.

Barty pauses, noticing the way you’re smiling at him, and his expression softens for a moment, a genuine glimmer of happiness slipping through his playful mask. “Alright, reason three,” he says, his voice lower and a little gentler. “I make you smile, and I know that’s worth something.”

You try to stifle your reaction, but the warmth in his voice catches you off guard, and you find yourself unable to hide your smile.

“You think that counts as a real reason?” you ask, half-jokingly, even though you’re fully aware that it’s a perfectly good reason.

“Of course it does,” he says, leaning in closer with a look of triumph. “So, tell me, have I convinced you?”

You give him a long look, trying to keep your face serious but failing as a smirk creeps in. “Fine. Maybe you’re not entirely unbearable,” you admit.

He grins, looking as overjoyed as if you’d just handed him the world. “I’ll take it!” he says with a flourish, sweeping you into a dramatic bow. “It is a privilege and a pleasure to be tolerated by you.”

Laughing, you give him a playful shove. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s far too late for that, Treasure.” He winks, flashing you that smug grin again, and you know, despite the constant teasing, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

the nickname 'Treasure' is taken from the lovely @ellecdc; aka the best barty writer everrr •ᴗ•

[thelonelyshore-if]

Cant help but wonder if the fog and the lake are two separate entities- the lake was kind to us, kept us safe and alive and cradled us nicely (sort of). It clearly wanted us here- it delivered us, after all, against the fog's wishes clearly. But the fog was upset, kind of like a kid throwing a tantrum when their siblings mess with their make believe games. Fog is just water, after all, and so is the lake.

But the there's the other entity in the forest... a third entity? Or maybe it's the same entity as whatever dragged us here? Whattttt does the lake know? Kinda wanna jump back into thr lake.

Hey Nonnie? Loving this ask. Loving where your head is at.

I won't confirm or deny any of it, but I'm loving the direction. Nothing hypes me up quite like reading people's thoughts on the fog and how it all works. And throwing the lake into it?

Delightful. Thank you for sending your thoughts because this ask made me sooooo excited c:

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hiiii

can you do 80s jason fucking you for the first time and he cums to quickly but he gets hard again in a second and he fucks like a god ?

💋

A/n: I'm guessing this isn't quite what you were talking about but I was craving soft Jason 🥹

Warnings: Smut, riding, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You'd been taking it slow with Jason for multiple reasons, he was busy with bands, he'd never been with anyone like that before, also he just wanted it to be perfect for you.

It was your birthday and Jason went all out. He took you on a walk around a park to a picnic he'd set up by a creek under a willow tree, it was quiet and candle lit and he made your favourite meal.

Then, he brought you back to his place. There was a trail of rose petals leading to the bedroom.

He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek. "Is this a good end to the night?" He asked, his voice soft as he waited for your approval. "We can just go to sleep if you want, I was just thinking... I don't know." He mumbled, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"No, no, it's perfect." You said, turning to face him. "You did great." You smiled, stretching to kiss him.

"Well then, I guess we should get going." He said awkwardly. You giggled at his nervousness and took his hand in yours, leading him to the bedroom.

You crawled onto the bed, Jason hovering over you with your lips connected. You helped him get your clothes off before he sat back to take care of his own clothes, all while you shamelessly admired him.

Jason was down to his boxers and he paused, looking you up and down. "Where... do I start?" He asked, worried he might make a mistake.

You chewed your cheek as you thought about it but Jason was already moving down the bed and positioning his head between your thighs.

His tongue was on you in a instant, lapping up your juices, dipping into your cunt and bumping his nose on your clit. Your hands were in his hair, tugging on it and pulling him closer. You’d never fucked before but he’d definitely gone down on you a few times, although he was nervous you’d also blown him on occasion.

It’s not that either of you were virgins, neither of you were exactly experienced but you weren’t virgins. Jason just wanted to it to be perfect.

Of course, that meant he had to help you cum before he could cum. Plus he just loved making you feel good so starting by eating you out was perfect in his mind.

Your back was arching off the mattress already as his calloused fingers prodded that spongey spot, drawing a gasp from you along with your first high of the night.

He let you come down from it, running the pads of his fingers up and down your sides to make you twitch. He was gentle and sweet but he wanted to get a reaction from you whenever he could, in whatever way he could.

You smiled up at him, reaching for him and wrapping your arms around his neck when he moved over you. “Are you ready, love?” He asked, kissing up your jaw and nibbling your earlobe.

You nodded eagerly, giving him a gentle squeeze, feeling your walls fluttering as he pushed himself through your folds, gathering your juices to use as lube before pushing into you. You could tell that much was already a lot for him and he refused to move, partially to let you adjust.

He groaned and hid his face in the crook of your neck, hips twitching as he came inside you, mumbling apology after apology while you held him and assured him it was fine.

When he was ready he sat up and kissed you before reaching to the nightstand and grabbing the bottle of water that was there. It was nice to just feel him inside you but you were more than ready for more, so much more, and he was willing to deliver.

"I'm sorry, love, you just felt so good." He said, chuckling softly, a bit out of embarrassment. Maybe a lot out of embarrassment. "I'll do better, I promise." He kissed your lips a last time as you smiled up at him.

"Whatever you give me I'll take." You said, pulling him back for another kiss, this one didn't break so soon and Jason started rolling his hips into yours.

He kept a slower pace, taking into account the sounds you made and when you made one he especially liked he angled himself to keep hitting that spot. His lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, leaving your mouth open for moans to slip out.

He ran a hand up and down your side before finally landing on your clit, rubbing it with his thumb to match his thrusts. Gradually he got faster, always keeping in mind how you felt and muttering praise in your ear. "You're doing so good for me, such sweet sounds." He said, kissing just under your ear.

You felt your second high creeping up on you, slowly washing over you and lasting what felt like an eternity. By the time you were coming down from it Jason was laying beside you, holding you to his side and littering your face in kisses.

Looking down you could see he was still hard and just ignoring it, despite how red he was.

You kissed his shoulder as you looked up to meet his gaze. He was smiling down at you, happy he got to make you feel good. It didn't matter all too much how much pleasure he was deriving from it, he could help himself to that later, his attention was on you.

Your attention was on him.

You moved to straddle him, grinding down on his length and hearing a soft grunt from him. "What're you doing, sweetheart?" He asked, a hand moving down to your hip. He didn't hold you still, didn't guide you, he just wanted to touch you, feel you under the pads of his fingers.

"I want to feel that again." You said, adjusting and sinking down on him, face scrunching as your body was still reeling from the earlier pleasure.

Jason laughed at that, his cute little giggle sending butterflies to your belly as you started moving on his length. He put his thumb back to your clit, rubbing it in those sweet, sweet circles.

Not wanting to make you do all the work he kept moving his hips, thrusting up into you, still watching for those pretty moans of yours. If you tried to go faster he slowed you down, you were both sensitive and he knew it, if you just let that high find you it felt better, washing over you and making you see white.

It hit you again, coming up slowly until Jason was helping you to lay down on him, only this time he didn't pull out. Instead he went faster, hips losing all sense of rhythm. Being sensitive it made you whine right into his ear, only adding fuel to his fire, your body bouncing on his until he was painting your walls with his cum, unintentionally bringing you over the edge a fourth time.

Even after he didn't pull out, keeping you on top of him and holding you tight as you both caught your breath.

"Thank you." He whispered, kissing your cheek. "Felt so good." You only nodded in respond, kissing his neck and drifting off to sleep on top of him, not minding the sticky sensation between you and only craving his warmth.

[itsnothingofinterest]

Well I'm sorry you feel that way but this is the impression the story of MHA gave me in it's final arc. Not through ignoring themes or events, but through scrutinizing them thoroughly.

To start off with All Might's independence, you say he normally worked solo and the big operation for the last day of his work isn't indicative of the other 40 years; but the thing is, working solo is actually normal for most heroes (unless they're on a team of heroes like the WWPC). See Kamui Woods & Mt. Lady competing over handling the purse snatcher from chapter 1 as an example of normal hero operation. They only really work together with non-sidekicks for big operations, and even non-League-based operations like the Overhaul raid can pull top heroes like Ryukyu & Fatgum. And when the Kamino raid is the only real big operation we see during All Might's tenure at all (unless you count the USJ rescue, which also played out just like Deku's experience in the final arc), I don't see a reason to assume it was atypical of All Might.

The reason society felt to nearly fall apart with All Might's retirement wasn't because he worked solo all the time; it was because he was so many miles better than the next best guy that he became the basis for the heroes reputation; so his departure sowed doubt in their credibility.

~

As for Deku getting non-hero help; the help from civilians amounted to first aid kits & shirts and stuff. Things civilians were largely already willing to part with to help heroes even before society collapsed; see the old lady insisting Bakugou take some food right before Shigaraki woke up in Jaku. This is really not the radical change it's presented as. Past that, they just stayed on the sidelines waiting for the fight to be over and then helped clean up, same as ever with the last Symbol.

And as for the villains who helped him; well one was already a former hero, 2 others were a minor offenders asked to help catch much worse criminals, which is pretty standard law enforcement behaviour, and Stain. That's just 4 villains helping; 4 total people helping the heroes in ways not expected of them. And there's no big sign that greater society noticed their contribution anyway; Stain in particular felt forgotten after he died.

(Also, it was a whole plot point no help arrived from elsewhere in the world at all for the final battle. Least of all in a way that affect's public perception.)

So my problem persists that I don't understand why this battle against/beatdown of the big bad villain is supposed to be so different & special from the perspective of the masses.

~

Next, as for Deku trying to find a non-lethal resolution, well I guess it might depend on your definition of "lethal" but:

The evidence does suggest Deku wanted to "break them both"; that he was intending for Tomura to wind up in the same state AFO was in at the time, and he certainly wasn't looking to save that guy.

And as for the being obvious to everyone who witnessed it...how do you figure that? Deku barely had any dialogue spoken aloud to Shigaraki to begin with in the final fight, and most of that was for the portion when he was on his own and no one else could hear him. It's not like his actions could speak for him either, he was just throwing punches the whole time. Counting only after everyone arrived, he basically just recounted what happened to Aizawa, got his arms healed, and started charging AFO to deliver a one-hit-kill-punch while everyone told him to do his best because he's the only one who can deliver a meaningful hit. It's been a while since I reread the whole arc, but I don't remember Deku ever telling anyone he intended to save Tomura anyway besides the vestiges & All Might, and he only talked about it for us to see with the latter after Tomura died.

What part of that series of events makes you think anyone but Deku & AM was in on any intention of saving Shigaraki? When did anyone else treat Shigaraki as anything but a villain that needed beating? Why would that be a wake up call to society instead of just the 4th and final defeat of AFO?

~

And lastly; as for the lethal option being unavoidable. Well maybe it was for Deku, but we know it wasn't impossible to save Tomura at all (similar to how Touya could have been saved, but Enji never could have saved him); because Spinner managed it. And enough of Tomura's spirit was still around that we can safely say a repeat should have been possible. So that Deku failed to save someone we know was save-able; hell, that he failed to save someone he vowed to save at all (and do not try to tell me he saved his heart based on a 2-panel speech on hand-holding), undercuts the storytelling now matter how you slice it.

Deku failed to save Tomura and complete the objective he set for the final 3rd of the series, failed to do anything truly different from All Might before him...and everything just turns out way better anyway. There's no way around this feeling is contrived and unearned.

I think the thing that ultimately gets me about how Deku has supposedly inspired away everything that'd lead to more Tenkos turning into Tomuras is...just "why?" Like, why did this:

Happen differently this time? I mean that's a fair question to ask, isn't it? The Walk was effectively the true inciting incident for Tomura, leader of the League, to hate hero society; you'd want a really solid answer as to why that won't happen again I would think.

The narration from Hawks and accompanying imagery implies it's because Deku inspired folks to not sit on the sidelines anymore, further implied to be a Hero Society-wide effect Deku has had that'll supposedly eliminate the bystander effect that led us here and give heroes more free time.

But like...Why is that different from what we've seen of heroes before now? All Might was around for 40 years and Deku, in the end, didn't really do anything AM didn't do; he punched out the big bad for the world to see. And All Might did also inspire people like the origin trio to action...by becoming heroes. Yet civilians like the old lady were inspired to go about her day because a hero would handle it, while Deku inspired her to reach out a hand herself. Why?

I've heard some suggest it's because Deku was less independent, had more of a teamwork focus in his big moment. But I’ve said this before, I think those people assume All Might was a lot more independent than he really was, and Deku a lot less. I mean a lot of Deku's fight was broadcast, including big portions where he was fighting the big bad solo just like All Might in Kamino. And then both fights ended with more heroes coming in to lend support.

So I'm just not seeing why public effect is so radically different.

And it's just that, I have been waiting to see what would prevent more Tomuras from crawling out of the woodworks to destroy even more since MVA; what measures would be taken to prevent that? Perhaps Tomura would destroy hero society, not just its buildings but its corrupt ideals, leadership, & figureheads; and maybe when he was beaten there would be room to rebuild it better from scratch? No, he didn't really destroy much at all actually, and things are being rebuilt just as they were. Would Deku and Tomura perhaps team up going forward after he's saved; with the latter's eyes for what's wrong in the world and the former's ability to fix it without violence? No, Deku kills Tomura because he was just too unforgivable, it's implied he was just after a tasteful way to do that the whole fight. Well, would Deku at least listen to what drove Tomura to villainy and do something about any of that? Nope, if it wasn't his final words to Spinner or their talk about hand holding, it was in one ear and out the other for Deku; and there's no sign he's told many people what little he did learn.

So what saves the Teknos of the world? Well Deku kills the big bad on live TV and it's really inspiring. Why is that different from the past 40 years? ...Horikoshi is to burnt out to answer. That's the ultimate answer to the question I've been asking for nearly 200 chapters.

Well I guess I always knew that if Deku couldn't save Tomura, it'd mean he couldn't save anyone like him. And well, he didn't save Tomura. It's why this plot point of "but they get saved anyway" rings so hollow; it's unearned, unfair, unrealistic, and outright contrived & unbelievable as things have been set-up. I just cannot believe it would work out this way; it is honestly 100 times more believable to suppose the old lady was a guilt-fuelled one-off and most Tenkos will die in the streets or turn to villainy. Especially once this "the villain is dead" high has passed. Because as it is; this resolution as-presented feels as reasonable as our finale in chapter 430 suggesting Deku was so inspirational that no one was ever a villain again either.

[zhuoyichenpretty]

Ep 22-23 Commentary

Ha...I was inexplicably nervous for eps 22-23 and it looks like I was right to be (-: What a rollercoaster. Spoilers below!

I've just come out of ep 23 and uh????? holy shit????? ZYC????

Ok ok but to backtrack, let's do my comments semi-chronologically:

Ep 22:

A carry-over from ep 21 that I have to mention—heck yeah PSJ give WZY hell. She doesn't have all that many lines but she sure knows how to make them count. Also seeing PSJ and WX get screen time just the two of them makes my brain go "yay <3"

Back to ep 22, loved the fake-out sundial ayeee that was a nice Chekhov's gun that also brings the real sundial back into relevance for later. Also me eating up the PSJ and ZYC crumb of an interaction has brought to my attention how starved I am of their screen time together.

This whole ep was a great lament towards the feared inevitable. Every sad downcast look from ZYC, every complicated glance WX gives him. A wonderful, terrible crossroads for these characters. I love that for ZYC especially, it's such an incredible mess of emotion coming to a head. Bad enough that he's come to care about the demon who killed his family and ruined his life, bad enough that he's sworn a blood oath he regrets and tied himself to punishing someone he no longer finds culpable, bad enough that ZYZ's life or death depends solely on his choice and ZYZ is constantly practically begging for death when ZYC wants him to live. How much immensely worse it makes the whole situation that WX is literally ZYZ's soulmate. And obviously the whole team has only grown more and more attached to ZYZ, too. ZYC's personal turmoil aside, how heavy must that responsibility and guilt be? For the finishing blow that only he can deliver to also deeply threaten every other person he cares about? Everyone understands in the abstract what must happen and why, but just like seeing ZYZ lose control firsthand, the gulf between understanding and experiencing is so unimaginably wide. If he kills ZYZ, can there really be no resentment from his friends? From WX?

Also it seems ZYC only wears cloaks so that he can give them to other people lmao

Ah fuck, the farewell drinks. I didn't even factor in how ZYC might not survive the encounter (''': The drama truly was like hm can we possibly give ZYC a worse day than that night his whole fam died? Maybe give him a bunch of new family members and also the blade and the fate and the sole responsibility to potentially irrevocably scar said family members with? And he might die in the process too? (-: haha maybe? (((-:

Oh. Oh. Addendum. I forgot this til I saw it mentioned in another post—ZYC recounting his oath as he watched WX smile when they discussed reviving the tree...I could feel him weighing those words against his own life, against ZYZ's life, against WX's happiness. One way out of this impossible situation is indeed to doom himself. I'm in pieces.

Damn if WX isn't dedicated heart and soul, going into the sundial like that. I'm sad no one could keep her company for those 300 years but also I guess that's kind of an impossible ask (and maybe not survivable for the other non-goddess mortals? I'm admittedly very unclear on sundial time loophole logistics). It would have been nice to see someone offer though, even just to be turned down.

Ooh I like the soul needle fake-out, given this show's penchant for retroactive "actually we had a plan all along" moments. A good subversion of the narrative's own style.

Also I saved this for the end because it doesn't really fit the linearity of my comments but what the fuuuuuuuck oh my god I absolutely flipped out at this scene:

I am at once rabidly intrigued and at the same time not sure if I'll be satisfied with whatever payoff will come for this so I don't want to overindulge in theorizing and setting my own expectations too high. Maybe this is just a fevered hallucination, maybe it means nothing (I hope it means something). But damn!!! What a gorgeous man crazy scene.

In conclusion, ep 22 had some good stuff for me. Plot development and reflection and tension enough that I may have been satisfied with just that one episode. But they gave us two, so onward to ep 23 comments!

Ep 23:

I like how many solid reasons the team has to suspect ZYC being possessed. Even though I withheld judgment during my watch given how quickly the show usually confirms that kind of stuff with a possession mark, just simply casting that doubt made the whole build up that much more intense.

ZYC slowly walking down the corridor with the whole grounds lit a somber and haunting gold—*chef's kiss*

ZYC's monologue to a catatonic ZYZ is so important to me. The closest we'll get to his internal monologue about this whole situation. The kinds of things said when we think there's no conscious listener.

Okay so, having finished this episode and looking back, Li Lun's hands coming up from behind ZYC was not to denote possession (at least in this episode), potentially is a visual from ZYZ's POV, and seems related to the above screencap. I am so, so curious. Once again, I'm stopping myself from further speculation because I want to be surprised but ahhhhhhhhh

PSJ shooting at Ao Yin is so gorgeous. Her action scenes seriously never disappoint—the creativity of her fight choreos!! Also very cool that the whole team is getting to take part in the action, not just the two male leads.

Bai Jiu possession was not on my bingo card but I sure do love that we literally saw the possession take place and I still didn't connect the dots. Good shitttt. Also oh no ): ZYC was telling the truth about the soul needle, he was just tricked ):

Seriously from the Ao Yin case to getting PSJ released to reviving the Divine Wood to getting tricked by possessed!Bai Jiu to making pear soup to fighting ZYZ to fighting Li Lun—when will ZYC get a single goddamn vacation day holy shit.

Also when will WX tear up that contract so ZYZ can stop having a mild heart attack every time he wants to kiss her ): &I love that they saved the 300-year montage for this moment. While their ship doesn't give me brainrot personally, who could be unmoved by that incredible and undisclosed sacrifice? That's soulmatism.

Okay, I'd seen clips of them filming the ZYC and Li Lun fight but damn I did not expect it'd be happening right now!! Right after already taking damage from ZYZ? And my god is Li Lun brutal. The two actors did such an impressive job on this entire fight, what with Li Lun's ease and ZYC's suffering. I really appreciated the extensive hand-to-hand combat after Li Lun literally obliterated ZYC's sword. (Also though, given the origin of that sword, I kept hoping for a flashback to ZYC's brother once it broke, but alas, no dice.) Anyway, the show does not play around about ZYC whump it seems. I was very very shook by that throat punch; that shit legitimately looked like it hurt.

Honestly, I had a hard time with the extended ZYZ and Li Lun conversation at the very end because oh my god someone please heal ZYC lmao. But of course, that's the end of the episode~~

Y'all...check on your local ZYC stans because I was not okay after all that (': I need a heaping dose of comfort after all that hurt, but as always I'm cautious of hoping for much from canon itself. So yeah! Ep 23 was solid, but I would probably be in better shape if today's release just ended on ep 22 ((':

Time to go wait for the cast's Hi6 episode to drop so I can heal my battered heart ;-;

[peppermintquartz]

A potentially (even more) angsty prompt:

A couple month after the breakup (and Buck moping around), the 118 is called to a crashed Harbor helicopter.

Or alternatively, Buck is not on shift and Chim calls Buck that Tommy is in the hospital via a helicopter crash (the rest of the 118 rescued him). A la Chim's Henren matchmaking.

Whatever level of injury you wish for either is good!

(for the purposes of this ficlet, their breakup is NOT the 8x06 version, just one where Tommy is like "we're moving too fast, I need some time" and they agree to give it a pause, and it still sucks but they're not exes)

---

"So... Have you two patched up yet?" Eddie broaches the subject cautiously. It's a fifty-fifty chance that Buck will be willing to share or snap his head off.

"I asked him out for a drink," Buck says, eyes on his book (Slow Productivity, which seems kinda strange for a guy working as a firefighter). "He said he'll take a raincheck." He sounds emotionless, which means he's sort of upset but not overly so.

Which makes sense, since Tommy and Buck did have a Not-A-Date brunch to catch up two weeks ago. Eddie was there, too, desperate wishing he had an excuse not to be, so that the two yearning idiots would just get back together.

Eddie's about to say more when the alarm goes and Bobby hustles everyone onto their engines. Curiously, Bobby sits in the back, telling Hen to take his usual seat.

"What do we got, Cap?" Chimney asks, snapping his gum. It's a new habit - the man is stressed about a second child. The sirens scream to life and they're off.

Bobby puts a hand on Buck's shoulder. "Airlift gone wrong. A chopper went down while delivering a heart to First Presbyterian."

Eddie sees the younger man go still. Buck won't ask, so Eddie bites the bullet. "It's Tommy?"

Before he answers, Bobby tightens his grip on Buck. "It's Tommy."

--

The good news is that the chopper hadn't gained much altitude when it crashed. The better news is that its cargo, a heart ready for transplant, is still intact, so it's quickly rushed off to the hospital in an ambulance.

The bad news is, it was Tommy piloting.

The worst news is, he needs blood. A lot of blood. Hen and Chimney are packing the wounds and stabilizing what they can and Bobby is calling Dispatch to relay messages for a transfusion.

"Blood type, B-pos, no known allergies," Buck rattles off to Bobby and Hen, helping to lift Tommy, collared and strapped on a backboard, onto the gurney. His jaw is tight and his hands are steady. "His emergency contact is..."

He falters as Tommy is wheeled into the ambulance.

Eddie shoves him. "Get in there." When Buck turns to look at him, eyes wide, Eddie pushes him again. "Get in there. You're his emergency contact as far as we know, so go. Tommy won't survive your delay."

That spurs Buck into moving with alacrity. The ambulance pulls out, sirens screaming, and Eddie feels his heart pounding in his mouth.

Then he feels Bobby standing beside him. "They haven't patched up?"

"They're idiots," Eddie says with heartfelt vehemence.

Bobby sighs.

--

Eddie goes to the hospital three hours later, after the shift. Buck is still in his uniform, so Eddie passes him his duffel and shoos him off to change.

"What news?" Eddie asks when Buck joins him again.

"They've stopped the bleeding," Buck says, closing his eyes. "Now they need to work on the impalement."

Eddie sits next to his best friend. He doesn't speak.

"I'm done," Buck says suddenly, sounding like he's gargled gravel. "I'm done. When he wakes up, I'm gonna... I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I am not doing this stupid 'pause button' shit any longer."

Oh thank God. Eddie can stop feeling like he's a child caught between divorced parents.

Then, because he is and always has been a realist, he asks, "What if he doesn't wanna press the play button?"

Buck looks a little sick. He clenches his jaw and shakes his head. "Then we want different things out of this. And I'd rather it hurt all at once now than later." His eyes look shockingly blue against the paleness of his face.

Eddie pats his friend's knee, and leans back to grab some shut-eye.

--

Eddie takes on the bulk of Buck-sitting duties for the next four days, spelled by Bobby. (Buck takes time off. No one begrudges it.) Maddie manages to get Buck to go home to shower but she can't make him sleep in his own bed.

Convenient that Tommy crashed just before our off days, Eddie thinks, a little bitchily, the day he comes back after a shift.

Man broke Buck's heart. Eddie figures he's due a little bitchiness.

It takes five false alarms before Tommy is truly awake and alert enough to register Buck and Eddie are there.

The heart rate monitor beeps a little more urgently.

"I'm here, honey," Buck murmurs, taking Tommy's hand immediately and squeezing it. "Relax, okay? Docs and nurses gonna look at you for a bit first."

Tommy blinks, and on his horribly pale and scruffy face is a ghost of a relieved smile. He can't talk, but his mouth forms something that sounds suspiciously like "eh en", or "Evan", and Buck smiles so brightly that he probably powered the machines with its intensity.

Eddie feels the ground under his feet right itself as the doctor and nurses take over. Yeah, that pause button is going away. He sends a message to the group chat.

Hen replies, Bets on when they move in together. $5 min.

[anyca786]

"I THINK I'M GOING TO DIE"

Daemon Targaryen x sister/aunt!Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen

WARNINGS: canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister &niece) poly relationship, child birth, (smut: lactation kink, cock warming) fluff, family drama.

Series

"The pain will be over soon my love, the babe should be here soon," Rhaenyra said, trying to bring her some comfort. She herself had recently given birth to another son, named Viserys.

Daemon stood beside her, he had refused to leave her side.

Daenys huffed and looked at her husband loathingly, "I fucking hate you!"

"What?" Daemon asked, rather hurt than confused.

"Relax, Daemon" Rhaenyra said as she pushes back Daenys damp hair and kissed her forehead, "She's giving birth, stop pouting"

'No, NO!" Daenys shouted this time, her eyes holding fire, resembling a furious dragon. "I'm speaking clearly," she groans in pain," This is all your fault..you and your stupid big cock"

Daenys breathing grows heavy and shakes her head," I fucking hate this! How the hell did mother do this? And Aemma and my beloved Laena?" She said then turned to Rhaenyra," How did you do this?" She babled.

"Princess you must push." the Midwife coaxed but squeaked when Daenys screamed at her face, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"I think I'm going to die," Daenys whined.

Daemon never knew fear until now. He did not want to lose his wife and Rhaenyra shared the same sentiment.

Rhaenyra cupped her face tenderly, "Just a bit more pain for a lifetime of happiness...now fucking push! You're Daenys Targaryen, a dragon and a warrior, so be one!"

Daenys let out a huff of frustration and screamed, ignoring the pain and the voices all around her as she pushed once more and the sounds of a babe, crying, made her fall back in her husband's arms.

"Oh praised the mother!" The mid-wife said, "A boy you have, Princess!"

"A boy?" Daenys couldn't contain her smile, A mini Daemon she thought.

The boy was cleaned and wrapped in a blanket. Daenys held her son close in a possessive manner and fell in love with the baby in her arms. He was absolutely perfect and looked just like her, but with Daemon's lips.

'Aegor," Daenys announced, sporting a wide grin at Daemon who now held Aegor Targaryen in his arms.

Suddenly Daenys felt another cramp, and shouts in pain.

Rhaenyra stood up from her spot and looked at the Maester in worry. The midwife looked underneath Daenys dress and gasped making the two look at her.

"What is it, woman? Spit it out!" Rhaenyra shouted, fear overtaking her face, "Another babe, Princess." the timid midwife squeaked out in fear.

"Another?" Daenys looked horrified, "I can't do this," she cried.

"Yes, you can, my love," Daemon grabbed her hand tight, "Breathe"

Holding Daemon hand tightly and pushing once again. She had finally delivered another babe. Daemon and Rhaenyra held a mixture of pride and happiness.

"A girl!" The mid-wife announced.

Rhaenyra held the babe with happy tears streaming down her face, a little girl in their family. Daenys wore a tired yet beaming smile.

"What will you name her?" Rhaenyra asked her.

"Viseria Targaryen, my warrior princess," Daenys announced proudly.

"My little princess" Daemon whispered, cooing at the baby.

Moments later, Daenys laid on the bed fully exhausted. Once the sheets were replaced, the maidens helped her wear a clean dress. She then started breastfeeding her children.

Daemon and Rhaenyra sat next to her on the bed simply taking in the scene between the mother of their children. Daemon was proud of his wife's strength. She did it, she overcomed her fear.

Rhaenyra's eyes filled with nothing but admiration and love for her wife. She felt content and happy seeing that she had everything she ever wanted.

Daenys couldn't believe that she was a mother now. Two little healthy identical Targaryens.

Now, ever since Daenys gave birth to the Twins, her partners- especially Daemon was practically ravenous for her. The slight chubbiness on her stomach, the softness of her thighs, and her round hips... the swollen breast, oozing with milk.

Daenys sighed angrily as milk leaked through her dress.

"What is it, love?" Daemon asked, already knowing the problem.

"Your children seem to be on a hunger strike," Daenys complained, "My dress is ruined," she pouts, stripping her dress off.

"Fuck," Daemon mumbled, seeing her naked form. The two times larger swollen, leaking breasts making him hard, "Let me see it, love" he said.

"See what, Daemon? " Daenys cocked her head at him while he bit his lip, his eyes trained on her perfectly swollen breast.

Daenys already knew what he was thinking.

"Just let me..." He lifted her in his arms. Daenys wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried he over to the bed where he sat up, while she straddled on him, his hands over her tender breasts. "Does it hurt?"

Daenys nodded in response.

"Let me take care of you, then," Daemon whispered, as he pulled her body closer, his head dipping down to take her pink nipple in his mouth.

He held her close to him, suckling and moaning at the gentle stream of milk that filled his mouth, nothing in the world was sweeter than this.

Daenys carded her fingers through his hair while he nursed from her, his cock growing harder beneath his clothes.

Daenys moaned as her naked buttom grinds his clothed boner, her clit soaking wet.

"Keep my cock warm, will you?" Daemon groaned. Wasting no time he pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock.

"Keeping you warm is how I knocked up pregnant, Daemon" Daenys playfully rolled her eyes. She gasped when he lined up with her entrance. He rubbed the tip of his cock through her folds, before pushing in and holding her in place, as he gave her other nipple attention.

Daemon could feel his cock throb, wrapped around his wife's warmth, nursing from his babysister, he was sure he'd be able to cum without even moving.

Daemon couldn't stop suckling from her breast.

"Daemon.." she moaned. Her breast were too tender and sensitive now.

"Just a litle more?" He peeked up at her, almost whining when she clenched around him, nodding.

"Just a little more, only for you, my love," Daenys said, as she nursed his desires.

🥀

Five years have passed since Rhaenyra, Daemon, and Daenys married in the ways of Old Valyria. And during the times spent on Dragonstone, their family continued to grow- Aegon l and Viserys ll (Daemon and Rhaenyra's sons) and Aegor and Viseria (Daemon and Daenys's son and daughter). Rhaenyra was expecting another child. This time she hoped for a daughter.

"How is our little Visenya?" Daenys inquired, affectionately placing her hand on Rhaenyra's growing stomach.

"Restless," Rhaenyra smiled.

"Just like her mother, I see," Daenys teased her, then pulled her into a passionate kiss.

Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey has already accepted the dynamic well. They consider Daenys as their second mother and her children has their own siblings. In return, Rhaenyra also looked after Daenys children like her own.

Baela and Rhaena, tho remained with their grandparents, exchange letters often with Daenys. The girls were delighted upon hearing the news of the birth of another Targaryen girl. They couldn't wait to meet the Prince and the Princess.

"Where are going all dressed up?" Rhaenyra asked, eyeing her training gears.

"The courtyard, come join me," she smiled.

Rhaenyra watched Lucerys and Jacaerys train in the courtyard, while Daenys held her own sword out training with one of the guards on Dragonstone.

The boys watched their god mother give a powerful kick to her opponent sending him flying backwards and onto the ground.

Another tried to approach and strike - only for Daenys to dodge and the two exchanged blows with swords.

Eventually, it wasn't until the man let out a cry when her sword jabbed his shoulder which had been too late to block the attack, and fell to his knees.

The boys watched with open mouths of disbelief.

Rhaenyra huffed but smirked in pride, "Show off," she muttered.

"Well, she have learned from the best." Daemon who had been watching for a while smiled proudly at his wife.

Daenys smirked, handing the sword off to the nearest person, "I was just warming up." She grabbed Lucaerys and ruffled his hair playfully earning a cry from the boy.

Jacaerys laughed, before getting the same treatment from his mother, "Mother! Not my hair," he complained.

Rhaenyra proudly smiled at her son, she was utterly in love with all of her children, "Come on, let Daenys and Daemon continued their practice," she told the boys, "It's time for your High Valyrian lessons,"

🥀

A scroll was sent in the name of Rhaenyra.

Daenys and Daemon walked inside the hall, all cleaned up and fresh.

"Leave us," Rhaenyra tells her children.

"Joffrey, come." Jacaerys ushered Joffrey to follow. The maid got up as well and assisted Joffrey by picking up his book. Lucaerys also had picked up his books and scrolls.

The Maester followed and soon the doors closed, leaving the three together.

Rhaenyra took the small scroll from Daemon's hand and read it to herself. Daenys already knew what was inside the scroll, "What is it?"

"He means to call into question Luke's legitimacy. And by extension Jace, and by extension my claim to the throne." Rhaenyra uttered in distress.

"Vaemond cares only about Driftmark,' Daenys said with frustration, her striking purple eyes looking up at her love, "Can't believe Viserys thought of marrying me off to him,"

"He only cares about Velaryon line,"' Daemon said.

"Hm, this is what I fear. Rhaenys has flown to court. Surely, she cannot be planning to back him." Rhaenyra stated.

"We may share disagreements but Rhaenys isn't cruel," Daenys said, thinking about her cousin.

"Disagreements? She believes we had her son killed so we might marry." Rhaenyra retorted earning a look from Daenys.

This wasn't the first time Daenys heard this rumor and she even asked Rhaenyra and Daemon to come clean. But they swore that they had nothing to do with it.

'Yes ...and yet, she's taken the girls to the ward," Daenys said.

"In honor of Laena's memory. She has no love for either of us." Rhaenyra said.

Daemon gave Rhaenyra a look while glancing at Daenys," She still holds love for our precious Daenys," he cups her face and lets out a slight chuckle.

Daenys knew that he wasn't happy at all. Their brother has been surrounded by Hightower in the past five years.

"Has the vipers' venom spread so far?" Daemon said.

"Those vipers rule in my father's name. And my father..." Rhaenyra's voice held some edge in it. "What choice do we have?"

Daemon peered down at her belly and placed a gentle hand.He looked up at his wives, "To Kings Landing then,"

"A family reunion, just what we needed," Daenys said sarcastically.

A/N:

Well we all know Daemon's got Mommy issues!

Thank you for supporting my work sm😭 Never thought I'd make it past 50 likes.

[overnightheartbeats]

Cloud nine was too low for the blissful feeling she was experiencing as he returned her kiss. Laurel hoped, but didn't expect. Feeling him so close to her, well, it was impossible to melt while in his arms. "Clearly many talents," she agreed breathlessly, happily remaining in the daze he left her when he pulled away. Her knees felt weak, and she couldn't be more thankful for the seat she was on. There was no denying, she had fallen for him. It was a thing, right? Love at first dance? "The baby whisperer," the title made her laugh, picturing him as the ultimate babysitter. "Oh that sounds so cute, watching her grow up. You probably have some really good stories from your babysitting days. I can see why she's so close to you, big brother duties." Laurel rested her chin on her palm, listening to him talk more about Chicago. "I'm sorry to hear that, losing a home is not easy." Optimism wasn't her forte, despite the positivity she was trying to display, so she was familiar with his sentiment. It just saddened her that he didn't feel connected to a home, the sadness only increasing with his comment on his parents. Is that what led him here? "Maybe this place helps you find some hint or some direction to a new home. You still have a long time." After all, they were still so young. So much could happen, right? Wasn't that the world's big promise - adventure and twists/turns to find their place? "I know they'd love to meet you, hm I don't know about those stories though." Still, a resigned sigh followed. "They'll be eager to share the most embarrassing stories about me."

She had called herself an open book, so Laurel meant to deliver, even in the topics she tried avoiding. Her big one? Her family life. It often led to some variation of, that's family, you need to understand. The warmth from his hand soothed the turmoil she began to feel with the topic, like settling a storm that hadn't even begun. It was nice to hear otherwise for a change. "She's just...particular about what she wanted. You see past the dust then?" His reassurance brought a smile to her face, "careful what you wish for, but don't worry. I've been learning to be myself, promise." It helped to be in a new place with her dad, no more nagging in her ear. "You like to learn, and I like a challenge, hm...we'll be a good pair. We will add cooking to the list, finding a new recipe, and hope we don't burn the place down."

She was glad that he agreed, because it was the simple truth. It felt like a cliche to say that from the moment she saw him, but things really had not been the same since she spoke to him. "Good, consider it your new nickname. Pretty green eyes," how easily it flowed. "It could be, don't be surprised if I call you that in the middle of class." Or the middle of campus, that'd be funny. Would it embarrass him though? "You picked one hell of a state then." Not that she was complaining, Laurel probably wouldn't have met him otherwise. "Heatwaves are the standard here, but good to know you get irritable. I'll have to keep you near an a.c. unit."

Her eyes seemed to brighten just a smidge more, filled with excitement. "Really?" Laurel was basically a kid at Christmas. "I'd really like that. You can show me what I've been missing. We should totally plan it!" The thought had momentarily crossed her mind, thinking holiday plans and wanting to make the cabin idea happen for him, just to see him smile. Getting carried away was in her nature. But, him suggesting it? Well, that gave her free rein. "Have you visited any of them, or have a list of top three you'd like to visit? I'd like to spend any day with you, outside or inside. So, sign me up for this nature tour." She nodded without hesitation, confirmation was sitting right in front of her. "Nerdy is hot, absolutely. Sharing," she hummed in thought, even if the answer was already at the tip of her tongue. "No, I'm not a fan of sharing at all. Hope that's okay."

"Tell you what, you come over to my place. Well, my dad's place. We do that cooking lesson, and I can bring those pom poms out of retirement to see if the clap clap cheers stuck." Her voice was laced with amusement, using the words he used earlier. "I'm intrigued to hear these ideas you're thinking of. That would be great, company is really all I want, but I do love fun facts." Taking her hand shouldn't surprise her, but it still sent a light jolt of electricity through her. Laurel loved it though, how things flowed between them with barely any awkwardness. She felt like she had known him for ages, and not just weeks. "Green is a good one, might be becoming my favorite color too. Wow, you know all the good places. Madrid seems like a fun spot, and food..oh my god, probably so good. Me? I have a whole list of places, but top would be Brazil or Japan. Brazil for their carnival, but it also just looks so beautiful." She stepped into his room, offering him a smile as she looked around. "Thank you, I'll be alright." Couldn't get that cold, right? "Okay, I'll be here," she teased, knowing there was no intention to leave.

"Comfy looks good on you." No outside clothes. Well, Laurel was out of luck there. She was not exactly carrying an extra pair of pajamas in her backpack. "Makes sense, I'll just avoid your bed then. And, now I know the outside clothes thing, for future reference."

Eli smiled against her lips as she returned the kiss he had just given. There was no hesitation in reciprocating it. His hand cupped her face and pulled her close as he deepened the kiss for a brief moment. If this was what people called love, he wouldn't mind falling and break every bone in his body. The feeling was euphoric. Or maybe that was just Laurel. A soft chuckle escaped him as he dropped his hand and opened his eyes again to look at her. "I'm a man of many talents." His head nodded in acknowledgement. "They're the best but she's the one I watched grow up. She was the legit baby of the family. I cuddled her at night when she wouldn't settle. I think a big part of why her parents liked me was that I was the baby whisperer." Not only that but Emma understood him. Isa and Inez did too but they were different. Each sibling unlocked a hidden piece of what made Eli him. "You have a lot more hope for Chicago than I do. I think that is a nice sentiment but I think I'm done there. Visiting them is one thing but having a home, not really. That died with the parents." Again, Eli reverted to himself, the nomad having nowhere to call home. "Yes, really," he laughed. "I'd love to meet them. I am kind of curious to hear stories about you."

He felt for her but it wasn't pity. There was a longing there in her voice that told him that her mom wasn't a subject she liked going into but still would be willing to answer the question. Settling his hand over hers he smiled. "Sometimes people don't realize what type of diamond they have. They just see the dust and assume they're not worth much. Just because your mom had a harsher way to treat you doesn't mean you aren't worth it. Don't feel like you need to tone it down for me. I want you to be your unapologetic self." What he wanted her to take away from this was that he'd never make her change into something else to fit a mold she would never fit. "Mhm. I do like to learn. I like to get into something I've never done before. Cooking is one. Maybe we can come up with a new recipe."

An amused smile took over his features. "Fair enough. Drew you in." Lucky for him she even turned her head. "Pretty green eyes. I like it." Truly just because she said it. "Is that going to be your way to get my attention moving forward?" Amusement danced in his eyes as he leaned forward and chuckled thinking of the way everyone with colored eyes would turn if she did scream that out in the courtyard. "Definitely. I can't stand the heat. It makes me irritable. I don't like heatwaves." Now why did he pick Texas for his home would be something he'd never be able to explain but it felt like there was an inexplicable pull drawing him in to the blazing boot of a state.

"We can go together. Why not right? A cabin in the snow seems like we would both enjoy it." His eyebrows furrowed and a laugh was kept at bay as he realized she'd never had a real vacation. "Maybe we can change that. The winter break is coming up so why don't we head down to one of the National Parks and spend a day with nature. If you want to spend a day with me outside. I am a great nature guide." Eli slowly fanned his eyelashes and smirked. "Good to know you think nerdy is hot. Oh, you don't share is that it?"

"I might be trying to test your knowledge. See if any of those clap clap cheers stuck. Now, see that works well. I've got a few ideas on what we could do and since you're pretty confirmed to try something once then this should be easy." His mind had come up with multiple activities they could do and that already brought a smile to his face. "Company I can give. I'll bring at least one or two facts. It seems sad if there isn't something to learn." He took her hand and lead her out. Bag in the other hand and his hand holding one making sure they were locked. "Favorite color? Don't laugh but green. I like the color. It's nice and pretty. Place? Madrid. It is so vibrant. I'd love to go walk down their streets and eat their good food. You?" The shop wasn't too far from his dorm room which he was grateful for since he didn't want to keep walking so long. They reached his building and as he let go of her hand he took out his keys and opened his door for her to enter first. He dropped the bag of food on his desk, a neat pile of books and a laptop sitting on top and closed the door. 'Make yourself comfortable. If you want something to wear like a sweater take your pick. It gets cold here since I open the window. I'll be back."

He went to his closet and grabbed a blue sweater and sweats and his socks. After a five minute absence he came back out, hair outof his face and comfy clothes now on his person. "It's a thing we used to do. We don't sit with outside clothes on the bed."

[occasionallysiren]

im putting aelar in their own lil universe so i can be sillier with the lore :3

The priestess smiles warmly at them and Aelar's frown deepens.

"Bow," their god hisses, something hidden in its voice.

Aelar hesitates, holding their gaze with the priestess before letting themself drop into a kneel, their fringe falling in front of their eyes as to obscure everything but the priestess' shoes and the dark blue carpet.

They let the silence linger before speaking up.

"My lady," Aelar starts, pausing briefly for an expected interruption, but slowly continues when it does interject, "I have travelled for many weeks to reach this temple. I have suffered tremendously for even a chance of your guidance."

Their god doesn't speak up, so Aelar counts that as a win.

"And what guidance would that be, child?" Her voice is sickly sweet and awfully smooth, it makes Aelar's stomach churn.

Aelar holds their tongue as they think, ideas turning in their head. They didn't exactly think they'd ever get this far, so an explanation wasn't as thought out as it should've. They don't think 'hey, there's a god in my head and it wants to deliver this prophecy for reasons it won't tell me and I'm maybe not as scared as I should be. Anything you could do about that?' would go over particularly well. 

"Speak. Answer her," their god snaps, no longer hiding its desperation, and Aelar blurts out their next thought without thinking.

"The prophecy--it's told--"

The priestess inhales sharply and the rest of Aelar's words die in their throat.

"Stand," she commands and they reluctantly climb to their feet, eyes still trained downward, "Look at me." Aelar does, eyes flicking up to hers through their fringe.

She doesn't say anything else, just keeps Aelar's gaze with an unreadable expression. Anger maybe? The longer she stares, the more Aelar thinks it could be terror.

[whineandcheese24]

submitted a criticism to abc here. it's under the cut if you want to read, or just click the link and write your own

You may have gotten several similar criticisms in the last day, but I'd like to say my piece. Since bucktommy had their first kiss way back in April, I have enjoyed watching their relationship on screen, and interacting with like-minded fans between episodes. It was something I, and many others in both the fandom and the general audience enjoyed.

And now, you've decided, for seemingly no reason, to breakup what seems like you're most popular ship (at least for Buck). What's baffling about this is the months spent where the writers and actors all shared interviews about how excited they were about this storyline. It was said multiple times how Tommy, a fellow firefighter that both the audience and characters already know, solved the problem Buck's previous love interests had of being too removed from the rest of the plot. He had just enough backstory to be interesting but still have plenty of room for creativity. And of course we have invisible string theory, which I truly doubt you could find another fit for if you tried.

All of this potential wasted in an abrupt breakup founded on harmful stereotypes of bisexuality. Had this simply been a setup for a later make-up, it would have been fine, good even. It would give Tommy the chance to grow into a more open and vulnerable person, and it would breakdown the harmful stereotype of the "promiscuous bisexual" and "baby queer who doesn't know their own feelings well enough to recognize love". But from the interviews given, it seems that this truly is the end of this relationship.

The way I see it, either you made the poor, and even offensive, writing choice to end a beloved relationship, contradicting practically everything the cast and crew have said about it thus far. Or the actors have lied now, knowingly or not, in order to stir up drama amongst fans. Either way, I have lost trust in this company to keep it's word. I had started to lose trust when several plot points from the season 7 finale were dropped, despite being talked about in cast interviews (Hen's tension with Chimney, being an example). But it's quite a bit different to drop a plot point only talked about briefly, and end a beloved and revolutionary relationship that has been talked about for months, again for an unfounded and offensive reason.

I truly hope you get Buck and Tommy back together, because you're never going to create a better love interest for Buck than Tommy. But even if you do, you have a lot of work to repair the trust you've broken with the fandom and the audience. Please be more careful and considerate with interviews, and stop talking about storylines you are not fully intent on delivering.

I want to thank you for everything you've done thus far. Despite this last episode, I'm incredibly grateful that for Buck and Tommy's story, and I can only hope this isn't the end. But please take this criticism and others to heart when planning the rest of the show. Thank you for your time

[lxndrlvr]

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ . ₊๋˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

Let's get you home, detective.

Note: mentions of alcohol, getting drunk, confrontations, slow burn but not really?, angst if you squint, tension, sapphic stuff ykwim, jealousy.(!!??), misunderstandings.

Pairings: Alexandra Cabot × detective reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𖦹⭒°｡⋆

“You are under arrest for the rape of Kendall MacKenzie, you have the right to remain silent and to refuse any questions. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you....”

“Great job out there, you've really outdone yourself for a rookie.” well that was something you didn't expect, especially coming from the captain himself. Even the others praised you, and it made your stomach feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Being a rookie meant that you were prone to criticism, which meant that everything you did was monitored. Especially your job now in the Special Victims Unit police department (SVU) was no joke. It takes a lot to have the guts to work in there, good thing for you, you were not one to back out so easily.

As of now, you've already tracked down the suspect after days of trying to pin which one of them raped the poor girl. You were alongside munch and tutuola, which meant that you were always in between their daily banter and side comments. It was amusing, really. But most days, you prefer working alongside elliot and olivia. But that also meant feeling like you were third wheeling, which made you feel like you didn't belong anywhere. Still, that didn't stop you from tracking them all down alongside them. You were adjusting quite well, surprisingly you still haven't vomited from extreme nausea and punched someone in the face for being a straight up asshole.

...

Busy monday, tons of evidences yet still not enough to send that man to court. Everyone was getting frustrated, especially you. You were so focused on going over your papers over and over again, trying to see if you missed something small that can potentially help you make sense of it all that you didn't even realize someone was standing behind your back, talking to detective benson and stabler. You jumped from your chair, immediately flipping through the pages as you ran to olivia's side, pointing at every possible thing they missed during the investigation. Explaining in great detail on how you connected every clues and minor details, leading to you rummaging through your desk for more information. It was all finally adding up, you were so close.

“That's a good observation you have there” she paused, “I'm afraid we haven't met yet. I'm Alex Cabot, a pleasure to meet you.” introducing herself, she extended her hands to shake yours. While you were in a daze, just staring at her like a lovestruck fool, causing you to stammer. The papers and your pen falling on the floor from nervousness as you mentally cursed yourself as you picked up your things from the floor. Alex also crouched down, helping you as you introduced yourself, still stuttering. Olivia side eyed you, asking what was that all about when Alex was whisked away by Elliot and Cragen for a talk.

“No, I should be the one asking. What was that? That's Alex?” you asked in disbelief, you've only heard whispers about the ADA but you've never met her in person, that was, until today. Olivia has never seen you act this way, that's when it finally clicked.

“Please don't tell me you like Cabot.”

“I mean-” she cut you off “I'm not hearing you out, kid.”

“Oh come on!”

“You cannot be serious—”

“Oh you're one to talk” you interrupted, then gulped when she gave you a disapproving look. You felt like you were walking on thin ice, so you dropped it.

...

You're in awe while watching Alex in action, feeling massively intimidated by the older woman. Her voice alone, sent shivers down your spine while you paid attention intently on how she delivered the case.

“The defendant was charged with heinous crimes, the murder victim was seven weeks pregnant.”

“Objection!” a loud bang echoed in the court room, making you slightly wince.

“That was a nice try, counselor. Don't do it again.”

“My apologies.” alex replied sheepishly

...

Months have passed and still, you haven't made your move yet with her. Many have tried pursuading you but you've always avoided Alex like the plague. Something about that woman was making you stammer all over your words, so you decided it was best to keep your distance. But the latter seemed to take that you just generally disliked her, enough to keep your distance and put a wall in between you both before you even got too close. Of course at first alex went out of her way to befriend you, but realizing that no matter what she does, you would always end up avoiding her. She tried asking what was wrong, but you gave her no straight answers. Elliot watched as you fumbled over alex, he and olivia knew better than anyone, and by that I mean they know that you liked alex. It was painful to watch, to say the least. The amount of headache you've put them through, stressing them out just because you're too much of a coward to confess.

“Why do I do this? I always mess up, now she thinks I don't want to be her friend.” you pouted as you took a sip of your drink, it was a long exhausting day from work as usual. It was stabler's treat, just you and him. You reminded him so much of his daughter, and you needed a friend. Only, you suck at making friends so you just whisk off any parental figure you see to rant your heart out over some woman that you can't seem to get out of your mind.

“I really don't understand how you expect anything to happen when you ignore her” he started, then shook his head in a disapproving manner when you started to sniffle quietly.

“I'm scared, okay?” you tried to reason out

“Kid, you've handled crimes harder than this. Confrontation with cabot surely wouldn't kill you.” he said, taking a sip of his beer.

“But what if I mess up?” you said weakly, your eyes glassy from crying.

“You won't.”

...

You really didn't have any choice, not even a week later and you're whisked off to interrogate a suspect alongside cabot. Cragen specifically tasked you to stay by her side and when you tried to protest, that's when he changed his mind about letting olivia and elliot come with you. So now you're stuck with Alex, and you didn't know what to do other than fumble over the hem of your sweater. It was awkward at first, neither one of you spoke to one another, that was until Alex initiated first. You really didn't want to be rude so you tried to talk and keep your composure intact for your sake. It was by far the longest conversation you've had with her, and since then, you both went out of your ways to make small talks whenever you can.

The squad seemed impressed with the progress you had, and you were also quite proud of yourself for not being as nervous and cowardice before. That was, until you saw Alex with a man at a restaurant, where you were invited by your college close friend for dinner to catch up. The whole evening, you could barely focus on your conversation with your friend, you were practically fuming at this point. The way he held her hands, the sound of alex's laugh and her smile. It looked more genuine than when she was with you. And that hurt you deeply, and your friend seemed to notice the change in your demeanor so your dinner was cut shortly when he offered to take you out to get some ice cream. You agreed and you both exited the restaurant once he paid for everything.

Alex watched as you exited the restaurant with a man, holding you by your waist and guiding you out. Her heart felt heavy at the sight, almost forgetting that she was on a date with a guy. Now it felt so wrong to entertain him, alex felt sorry for using the guy, but she can't seriously let herself fall for the younger detective.

...

There it was again, and everyone seemed to notice it. Another growing tension between alex and the stubborn young detective, just when everyone thought things were going well, they were now back to avoiding each other like the plague. Olivia tried talking you through it, but you shut her out. It was a jerk move, yes, but olivia understood where you were coming from. So she dropped it, knowing that it was best to leave you to it. After all, you insisted that you're old enough to handle this.

But it also greatly affected your performance at work, you've grown more impatient than ever and whenever someone pokes you too much, you explode and storm out of there. You can barely focus anymore, but you're trying your best to maintain everything in control. It was painful to watch you go through this, benson, stabler, munch, tutuola and cragen. It didn't take long enough for them to figure out why you were acting this way. You're not even surprised anymore when you got called up in cragen's office by the end of the day.

“What's with you, detective.” he started off while you looked at the ground, feeling guilty for how you've been acting lately.

“I'm sorry..” your voice cracked, choosing not to answer his question. Apologizing instead, after all, it was your fault for letting your feelings consume you whole.

“Look kid, I understand that you might be going through something serious, but what's happening? It has to be something big that you're letting it get to you.” you couldn't answer him, it sounded too childish to admit why you acted this way.

“It won't happen again, sir.” you closed your eyes, feeling like you're getting scolded by your father for misbehaving.

“I'm not mad, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to come to me. Take care of yourself kiddo. You're free to go.” you silently thanked him as you exited the room, bumping into someone.

“Oh I am so sorry—” you began, only to cut your sentence short when you realize it was alex, standing close to you. You cleared your throat, as stepped away. She didn't even spare a single glance at you as she entered cragen's office.

...

Alex wouldn't mind falling in love with you, if it didn't mean being in love with a girl.

You wouldn't mind falling in love with a girl, if it didn't mean falling in love with alex.

...

You visited Alex's office, alongside munch and tutuola to discuss something. You barely spoke a whisper, not even a sound came out of you, when asked, you would just nod or reply non verbally. The amount of times you caught alex's intense gaze at you, was more than you could count. Or at least her eyes never left yours the minute you stepped foot inside her office. When it was time to head out, you were the first one to leave but was stopped when munch told you to stay back. They'll just get something and will be back in at least 15 minutes, you were about to protest but they didn't give you a chance, they were already out. You stood in the corner, refusing to acknowledge Alex's presence. Her telephone rang, as she got up and approached to answer it.

“Alexandra Cabot” she answered, then her face lit up when she recognized the voice, belonging to her guy friend. It wasn't your intention to eavesdrop, but alex seemed excited talking to him. The sight alone was enough to pierce your heart, lucky for you, munch came back just in time to pick you up.

...

“You didn't tell me she was invited too.” you mumbled, gulping as you watched Alex from afar, talking to cragen about something. You scoffed when you heard elliot chuckle, having the urge to elbow his face for finding this amusing.

“Does that bother you?”

“You know damn well it does.” you murmured, drinking your cheap beer.

“Snappy.”

...

You were now left alone in the bar, while the others chatted in the corner. A guy approached you, while Alex watched from a distance. She overheard you refusing the man's offer to buy you a drink, standing up from your stool as you tried to wobble away from the man. You were evidently drunk, but the stranger was persistent. Before he could even grab you, someone already did, holding your waist protectively as they put themselves in between you and the man harassing you.

“Get out of my way, woman—” he tried to snatch you away when alex slapped his hand away and kept you close to her.

“I suggest you get out of my face before I put you behind bars.” alex calmly stated, holding you close as you rested your head on her neck, mumbling something incoherent.

“And who are you to tell me what to do, you little—”

“Her girlfriend, now if you may excuse me, don't ever come near her ever again.” she snapped at him before pulling you gently away from the bar, going straight to your colleagues as she offered to take you home.

You protested incoherently, you were talking nonsense at this point as you tried to identify who was this woman holding you close.

“Who are you?” hiccup.

“It's alex” she gently murmured against your ear as she led you out of that place.

“My alex or other alex?” she laughed at that, shaking her head as you addressed her as 'your alex'. Or is it her?

“Well how many alex do you know?” amused, she asked the younger detective.

“Only you” you shrugged.

“Let's get you home, detective.”

...

Fortunately, you were sober enough to inform her your address. Which led her to driving you to a dark and dirty alley, which looked very unsuitable for any woman to walk on, it was so dark that she doesn't know how you manage to go home safely in this alleyway. Once you arrived, alex saw a few gang members outside the building, as she immediately turned her car back around and drove to her house instead.

“Absolutely not.” alex muttered under her breath, there was no way in hell was she going to let you stay in your apartment knowing that those men were lurking outside the building, not to mention at an ungodly hour considering it was 1 am.

“Hey, this is not the way to my apartment.” you sulked, as alex rolled her eyes. Of course it wasn't, she was not going to let you step foot inside that building after what she saw.

“I know, we're heading back to my place.” good thing alex stayed sober.

“At least take me out to dinner first, miss cabot.” you scoffed, not noticing how alex blushed from your absentminded words. Still, she didn't comment on it.

...

You can't really recall what happened, but you somehow found yourself in Alex's guest bedroom, in her pajamas, wrapped under her blankets, inside her own home. You walked down the stairs, only to find alex with her hair up in an apron, cooking breakfast. She glanced up, her pair of blue eyes, staring directly at you as she smiled softly.

“Good morning, how do you feel?” she asked as she opened one of her cabinets and grabbed painkillers for you to drink, as you slowly approached her in the kitchen, sitting on one of the stools.

“Like I just got hit by a thousand bus.” you managed to croak out, good thing you brushed your teeth using the spare toothbrush she left for you upstairs. She chuckled at your antics, placing the painkillers in front of you, as well as a glass of water.

“That's what you get for drinking too much” alex said in amusement as she watched as you drank the pills, groaning at your headache. Plating your food, she sat next to you, turning your head to face her.

“Can you eat?” she asked, her voice gentle as she cupped your cheeks. You nodded, accepting the plate of food from her.

...

After eating, you're both silently looking at each other. The plates long forgotten on the table, her blue eyes scanning over your facial features, wondering how could someone be as angelic as the younger detective in front of her.

“Why do you hate me?” that question caught you off guard, your eyes widening. Her voice sounded weak and defeated, almost as if she was in pain, the thought alone, sent shivers down your spine.

“What? I don't hate you, alex. Who told you that?”

“No one did, it's just that..” she paused, then sighed. “Why are you avoiding me? Have I done something wrong?” she asked.

“No, you didn't do anything wrong.”

“Then why are you avoiding me? Why do you always run away from me? I can't understand you, one moment we're okay, and then the next second I get too close, you run away from me!” she snapped.

“Alex-”

“Why are you treating me like this?” her voice cracked, her eyes slowly becoming glassy.

You gulped, not knowing what to say. For as long as you can remember, you've always thought that alex couldn't care less if you ignored her, that it didn't hurt her one bit, but seeing her like this. It felt like a stab to your heart.

“That day at the restaurant, I saw you with a guy.” taking a deep breath, you paused. Then continued. “It broke my heart, alex. I saw the way he held your hands and how he made you laugh, I wanted it to be me.” you sniffled.

“I always thought I was out of your league” you let out a dry chuckle. “Is it selfish of me to admit that I'm jealous? Why couldn't it have been me? But then I figured, maybe you didn't like me that way so I distanced myself. Do you know how hard it was to watch your smile? Knowing that another man is making you happy, while I stepped back because I'm too much of a coward to admit that I have fallen for you. Can you believe it alex?” choking on a sob, you tried to contain your emotions as you wiped away your tears.

“I'm not a very religious person, but God, I dropped to my knees and prayed. I asked him why he was doing this to me and why does love come easy for other people, but when it comes to me, it felt like sin. I can feel my skin burning with every cry that I let out, this guilt is eating me inside and I don't know how to feel about it.”

“I like you, alex. No, I love you. And that's what hurts the most, because—” before she could finish her sentence, alex kissed her. Effectively shutting her up, her tears coming to abrupt, the kiss almost desperate as you closed your eyes and kissed back.

Pulling away felt like such a crime, but you had to eventually. Resting against each other's forehead as you both tried to catch your breath after kissing so intensely. Then alex chuckled, trapping you in her arms as she pressed a soft, tender kiss on your cheeks.

“Idiot, I love you more.”