#IVE NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT THESE TWO AND THAT IS A CRIME I THINK

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

I don’t know if This is the place where people make requests but I was thinking Katsuki and y/n have been friends since childhood but as they grow up Katsuki takes the hero path and y/n chooses the villain path it’s like the 2nd year of UA Katsuki knows y/n is a villain and keeps it a secret she’s also in the class. I don’t know how much I’m aloud to ask but hiiii and if this gets picked thank you

ouuuu this is such an interesting request ! i luv me some angst once in a while ! this is also probably the angstiest fic ive written rn lmfaoo ! i tried to honour your request as best i could and i hope you like it ! (also yall keep enabling my katsuki friends to lovers addiction its not me its yall sooo🤥..) also here, reader’s family is part of a crime syndicate sorta like the chie hassaikai !

fem reader, blood n injuries, kinda angsty but i cant bring myself to fully write angst so take the bittersweetness <33 katsuki claims he hates reader but he doesn’t, reader has a sorta traumatic backstory but if u squint HARD, reader feels guilty, slight miscommunication trope, lemme know if i missed something !

"how long are you gonna keep doing this ?"

you're rolling up your bloody sleeves when you hear the question you'd been expecting fall from your best friends lips.

"what do you mean ?" you're playing dumb, you know it. and unfortunately, katsuki knows it too.

he narrows his eyes at you, you ignore him "don't give me that shit." he all but growls at you "how many more times are you gonna come to me all fucked up like this ?" you'd expected him to be louder, but you blame that on the fact it’s so late. angrier isn't the term you're looking for, you've known him long enough to know he's trying to hold back his anger. for you. you feel your stomach twisting at the thought.

"as long as you'll have me" you jest, smiling at him. you never took anything seriously. from the time you were kids until now, katsuki hates that about you. "you'll keep taking care of me, won't you suki ?"

you're spoiled, you think everything is a fuckin' joke. katsuki hates that about you.

he huffs, grabbing your outstrechted bruised and bloodied arm "i won't if you keep wakin' me up so late. we've got school tomorrow, you dumbass." his actions are softer than his words, like they always are. he cleans at your injuries with the med kit he has stashed away in his room for emergencies, emergencies being you. you snort and katsuki can barely cover the smirk growing on his face at the sound.

"you're such a goody two shoes." you sigh playfully, but your tone is more loving than playful like you'd hoped.

you'd been hiding your lifestyle from kastuki until you no longer could. coming to him one night heavily injured because you thought he was the only one you could come to, a decision you regret to this day, even as you sit here in his bedroom again.

you'd never meant to get him involved in your mess. katsuki, who's future was so promising. katsuki, who since the ripe age of 5 with starry eyes and bandaged cheeks proclaimed he would be the best. katsuki, who had wanted you to be together when that moment came.

but you had to ruin it. and you're sure that even as he sits there with you and cleans up your wounds, a part of him hates you for it. you don't blame him, how could you ?

you ruined everything. you always do—

you feel a finger flick against your forehead and when you focus again katsuki's eyes bore into yours.

"don't go zoning out on me, idiot. don't go falling asleep on me either. 'f i can't sleep, neither can you." you huff out a laugh at his petulant demand. you hum as he bandages your arm up carefully. " i think i can do that." you sigh.

"i wasn't asking." he retorts, looking up at you seriously "don't go knocking out on me."

you're left speechless at his words. because despite what he says, you know what he means. you've known katsuki for too long not to.

it’s stupid that such a simple sentence has you blinking rapidly, sniffling away the tears forming in your lash line. katsuki sighs. even when you tried acting tough, you’ve always been such a crybaby.

neither of you say a word as he finishes bandaging up your wounds. he insists on rewrapping up your hand and your heart squeezes because you know he’s stalling and it would be time for you to go soon.

it’s for the better, you think. despite your heart tying itself in knots, you won’t allow katsuki to get caught up in them.

he finishes and no words are exchanged. he stares at you, pleading for something you’re not quite sure about, or at least that’s what you tell yourself (you’ve known him way too long not to know what he wants). you avoid his gaze, your eyes growing misty again when you hear him sigh in defeat before he gets up from his bed and leaves the room.

while you’re throwing your jacket on and tugging your dirty boots back on (katsuki was a stickler about keeping his room clean) you can’t help but look around his room. it makes you giggle how he hadn’t really changed that much at all.

he’s thrown out most of his action figures but it seems he just couldn’t separate himself from the all might one’s. he’s still got the all might poster, his pride and joy that he never stopped showing off when you were kids. and then you see something on the shelf where he keeps all his manga.

katsuki walks back into the room and his shoulders visibly sag when he sees you ready to go. you don’t see it though, you’re focused on something on his shelf, he raises a brow.

before he can ask you anything though, you turn to him with a sly little grin, the grin he knows you have when you’re about to say some dumb shit. he hates that about you.

you’ve got a small rubber band looking thing pinched around your finger and katsuki feels his stomach drop.

"you still have this ? " you twirl the braided friendship bracelet you’d made for him when you were kids around your thumb and index finger, giggling when you see katsuki’s expression morph from curiosity to embarrassment. faster than you could blink, he’s already stomping over to you. he wobbles around a little on his bed to reach over your shoulder to snatch the bracelet back.

“don’t go snooping through my stuff !” his fingers are inches away from the bracelet when you switch it over to your other hand. a struggle breaks out where you push and shove at each other. you end up underneath him with him trying to open up your hand tightly clutching onto your bracelet.

“s’not snooping—if it’s just sitting out in the open !” you giggle. he finally manages to snatch his bracelet out of your death grip with a huff and a pinch at your thigh. you don’t miss the way he inspects it carefully before deciding it was unharmed and placing it right back where you’d found it. your heart squeezes despite yourself.

“either way, don’t go puttin’ yer dirty paws on my stuff. you’ll get your germs on them.” he snickers childishly. you’re just as if not more childish because you blow a raspberry at him. katsuki squishes your cheeks out with his hand in response.

you realize you feel a little too comfy, then realize you’re laying in katsuki’s bed and suddenly spring up to try and leave but a hand pushes at your chest, stopping you from doing so. “where the hell do you think you’re goin’, huh ?”

“home ?”

“don’t think so.” he utters simply, pushing you down onto his bed harshly “you’re not going anywhere.”

“katsu—“

“shut up. none of that bullshit you spout all the time” he leans down until your noses almost brush against each other, you inhaling sharply and katsuki grips the sheets next to your head “ if you get yourself in trouble again, i’m the one you’re gonna come bother and i’m trynna sleep. you’re staying.”

the asshole knows exactly what to say to make you feel bad, even if he doesn’t mean to. so you swallow the lump in your throat and concede “okay, fine” you nod “but i gotta leave super early, so don’t be surprised to see me gone when you wake up.”

“s’less trouble for me if you are.” he quips. he’s mean, he’s always been mean. yet his eyes tell a different story. there he goes again with those pleading eyes. the ones that make you want to spill your entire heart and more, to give your life and soul to him. you turn your face away from him.

“stop that.” he whispers, nosing at your neck, your heartbeat picks up and his does too.

“stop what ?” you're playing dumb, you know it. and unfortunately, katsuki knows it too.

“stop trying to act all hard. you know i won’t fall for that shit. those other extra’s might, but i won’t.” he’s awfully quiet. it almost gives you whiplash how he’d went from wrestling you to doing..whatever this was. you don’t mind, despite yourself. “known you too fuckin’ long, unfortunately.”

“yeah” you choke out “yeah, unfortunately.” you feel tears burning in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, that’d be unfair. you’re not allowed to be upset over something you’d caused.

“for fucks sake’s, yn” katsuki goes from gripping his sheets to gripping your wrists, you close your eyes. “ just—fuckin’—“

“i’m sorry.” you whimper, he pauses.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have come tonight, or any other night” you sniffle “i should’ve—you should’ve forgotten about me.”

you’re babbling, you always do when you get in your own head. when you refuse to tell him what’s bothering you, determined to do everything yourself, katsuki hates that about you. though it’s something he can’t really get too angry at you for, cus he does it too.

you’re babbling and you’re crying like you always do because you’re a crybaby despite acting like you’re not, and katsuki hates that about you. that’s why he sighs and flips you both over so you’re laying on top of him. immediately despite your better judgment, despite claiming he should’ve forgotten you, you cling to him like he’ll disappear if you don’t.

you’re clingy. you’ve always clung to him. you’re annoying, spoiled and bratty. you make dumb jokes and you never take anything seriously and you cry easily and katsuki tells himself he hates all of that about you.

because it’s easier to say than admit he’s hopelessly in love with you.

he doesn’t care about waking up late to treat your wounds, he’d stay up all night even if it meant fucking up his sleep schedule just to take care of you. he’d give everything he has just to hear you giggle at your own stupid jokes and he’d offer up every limited edition all might figure he has just to stay here and bicker with you over nothing. he’d always comfort you cus you cry easily and he wants to breathe the same air you do constantly, he’d swallow you whole and keep you safe right next to his heart if he could.

you’re clingy, annoying, spoiled and bratty and all of the above but katsuki would do absolutely anything for you.

so he comforts you as you lay crying into his chest. apologizing about something he has no idea about. he’ll ask and he knows you won’t answer him, but he doesn’t care. as long as you’re here.

you fall asleep soon after and you’re still clutching onto him. he reciprocates by holding onto you just as tightly, hoping it keeps you safe as you dream. it’s a stupid thought, he thinks. but it seems you’ve gone and wiped your germs onto his heart.

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy.” he whispers into the air. you’re still wrapped up snuggly in his embrace and his black sheets. in his room where you’d spent the majority of your childhood together. until you came to him with a snotty nose and big wet eyes and told him you weren’t allowed to come play at his house anymore.

fate must think it’s so fucking funny, because despite you not coming over anymore you’d ended up going to the same school every year afterwards, even now ending up in the same class. and with you sneaking into his room almost every night to have him clean up your injuries.

he knows you’ll be gone in the morning, somehow untangling yourself from his snake like grip. with tired eyes and some treat from that coffee shop you know he likes, your stupid way of apologizing to him. katsuki wants to tell you you don’t have to do that because he’d forgive any crime you commit. he’ll turn a blind eye to whatever you do even though he’s studying to do the exact opposite because it’s you and he loves you. but you’ll get in your own head and start assuming stuff. so he accepts your chocolate covered croissants and splits both with you.

you must’ve hit your head extra hard during your late night excursion to think katsuki would ever forget about you. you’re stupid that’s for sure, and katsuki wants to say he hates that about you. but that’d make him stupid too.

[ma1dita]

buddy system

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.2k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke

(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)

—

“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”

You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.

You’re going to pick up your little brothers.

“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”

They need your help.

“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.

“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”

Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion. 

Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.

“I can do this all day, kid.”

“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.

“What do you want?”

The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.

Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.

It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.

—

There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.

The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like a sailor lost at sea).

Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.

“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”

“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.

A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs. 

“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!” “If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!” “There’s more of you?”

Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.

“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?” 

Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already, so he shrugs.

“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.

“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.

“Don’t I get a say in this, Trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.

“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”

“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.

“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.

This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.

—

You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. Both of you took up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointed you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), so there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.

“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.

“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.

“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”

His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.

“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk, pretending not to hear.

“Who?”

His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.

“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?” 

Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.

“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.

“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”

He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.

“So you’ve heard.”

And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.

—

Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.

You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke. 

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.

“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”

He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.

“Hey!”

You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”

He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, Trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.

“Come on over here.”

“You sure?” “Before I change my mind, yeah.”

You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.

It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind. 

“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”

You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.

“Trouble?”

“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.

“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–” “Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.

“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”

Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong. 

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.

“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—” “You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”

Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.

“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”

Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.

“I don’t remember much.”

“Gods, I’m sorry…” 

Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).

Sharing. 

That’s what you’re hesitant about.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, Trouble?”

“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable, I guess.”

Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”

“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.

“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… so I’m basically an expert.”

You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight. “I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.

 I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.

“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive.

You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.

“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.

“We were never really enemies, Trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”

Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.

“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”

A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.

—

You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. You ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, with a purple Zippo lighter in hand (the smoke grants temporary illusions through any space you blow it into, and it smells like grapes---thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror every so often, ready to take them home.

Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.

“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.

“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”

“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.

“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.

“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.

“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.

“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”

He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.

As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he covers them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries running headfirst back into battle and towards to you, with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.

“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.

“Mhm. Just scared me.”

The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up, hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.

—

You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.

Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend.

But he is, isn’t he?

His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.

“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”

Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.

“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two. 

“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.

“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.

The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”

You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.

—

The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.

“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.

“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.

The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.

“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.

“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”

“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”

The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.

“Take a picture, Trouble, it’ll last longer.”

“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.

It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.

“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.

You can’t help but agree.

—

“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

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[reidmania]

DRONGO | spencer reid

summary; three times Spencer was confused by australian slang.

warnings; some very bogan language, australian slang, friends to lovers, short, fem reader, australian reader

an; this was self indulgent. ive never used the word drongo in my life but my brother does and it makes me GIGGGLEEEE so i think thats cute. pls enjoy, not edited at all.

The first time was when you first started at the BAU. You and Spencer had been sent to check out the crime scene of a murder. You were still adjusting and finding your place in the team, while also adjusting to America in itself.

It’s not like Australia was free of crime — It definitely wasn’t, not in the slightest, but it still shocked you how many murders were committed by guns. Since in Australia there were much stricter gun laws, it wasn’t something you saw often.

The cold air brushed over your skin, making goosebumps lie in their wake. Your hands ran over your arms trying to sooth the cold skin of your biceps and forearms as you walked around the house, which was actually a crime scene at the moment.

That was always slightly unsettling to you, the fact that the crime scene was once someone’s house, someone’s home, the place they went to everyday after work, the place they craved after a bad day and now it would never be the same.

“I think we’re all done here” Spencer said, making you jump as you spun on your heels in the bedroom you had been looking through. He stood there hands crossed over his chest.

You sighed out, nodding. “It’s bloody freezing this arvo.” You muttered as you walked past him out of the room, down the hallway. You missed the way his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and his lips parted slightly.

“What?” He huffed out under his breath as he walked to follow you down the hallway.

You turned your head to look at him, a soft smile on your face as you assumed he just didn’t hear you. “Its freezing” You repeated, head tilting to the side.

He eventually reached your side, where the two of you continued walking out of the house side by side. Out of everyone on the team, Spencer was who you found yourself most comfortable with so far, you enjoyed listening to his long list of random facts and you admired how smart he was.

While he admired your accent, your stories about growing up on the other side of the world and the way you spoke, even if he didn’t always understand it. “No I heard that.. After that, What did you say?”

The two of you walked out of the house, discarding of the gloves you had to wear while looking around. Your lip quirked up, “This arvo?” You questioned.

He nodded, “What is that? What does that mean?”

You let out a laugh, furrowing your eyebrows as you peeled the gloves away from your hands, throwing them into the bin. There were still other cops and new’s reporters around the house making the outside slightly chaotic.

“Afternoon, I meant this afternoon.” You established softly, amused by how curious he seemed by the words you said, how they were so confusing to him, almost like another langue while to you it was just the normal.

“Arvo means afternoon?” He asked. You snorted at the way ‘arvo’ sounded falling from his lips, the mix of his accent and the confusion in his tone making it sound so abnormal, unfitting. It made you laugh.

You nodded as the two of you made your way through the crowd of people. He seemed lost in thought until reached the car. He paused in front of it, looking at you with his eyebrows still pinched together in slight confusion.

“Why?” He asked finally.

You laughed, shrugging. It wasn’t like there was any reason, not really. You grew up hearing it, it was just something you said. You never really paid it any mind until now when Spencer was quizzing you about it.

You opened the passenger seat door, getting in as Spencer made his way around the other side getting into the drivers seat, but he made no movement to start the car until he understood why the heck you would use a word like that.

You scrunched up your nose, “I don’t know— Its just what I say.. Not everyone says it.. Its more of a bogan thing to be honest.. A lot of the ‘Australian slang’ Is bogan language” You mumbled out.

He furrowed his eyebrows, only seeming to be more confused by what you were saying. It made another laugh pass through your lips at the fact you had made the genius with a 187 iq confused by australian language.

“I’ll explain it later” You huffed out with a soft smile, knowing you had a job to do and if you spent the next half an hour trying to explain bogan to Spencer you would probably get nothing else done.

That seemed to be a good enough for Spencer as he started the car to drive back to the office.

Over the next few years of working with Spencer there were many things you said that caused him to ponder it for a moment, sometimes he was able to figure out what you meant without having to ask, but not always.

This was one of those times.

You were annoyed, coming out of an interview with a suspect who was playing dumb, obviously playing dumb and it was driving you absolutely insane. You were just getting more and more annoyed as the interview went on until eventually you threw your hands up and walked out.

Hotch and Spencer were on the other-side of the one sided window, meaning they could see everything going on in the interview room along with hear everything before of the Speaker, while inside the room, you couldn’t see anything from the other side.

Spencer immediately noticed your frustration rising, so did Hotch. Over the last few years Spencer had grown especially fond of you, he noticed and learnt your body language and what upset you and what made you happy. So it wasn’t a shocker that the minute you were out of the room he was by your side.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking over the obvious distress on your face, the way your cheeks had gone flushed and your lips had been pulled into a tight line, eyebrows pushed down in frustration.

“No. He is acting like a fucking drongo, mate!” You babbled out as you leant against the wall, hands coming up to grip onto the hair from your scalp, anything to try and calm yourself down.

Hotch furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you, not at all understanding what you had just said, Neither did Spencer but he had noticed over the years how when you were frustrated you got a little more back to your old ways in the way you spoke.

You adjusted slightly, understanding people in American didn’t use fun words like Australian’s did, so you settled it down when you could — but times like this when you were a little more frustrated it just kind of slipped out.

“Whats a drongo?” Spencer asked, huffing out in confusion.

Your eyes reached his as your expression softened at the way his features were scrunched up in complete and utter confusion of what you just said. It caused a tense but gentle laugh to pass through your lips.

“Like- An idiot, just like a dickhead.” You muttered out, a smile now replacing the frown on your lips, amused by his curiosity. “He is acting like a fucking dickhead” You rephrased.

Spencer nodded now understanding what you meant but still not entirely sure why Australian’s used such funky words, what the heck was a ‘drongo?’ But he refrained from saying that. He also didn’t mention you calling him mate.

That was the one thing that never changed, you called everyone mate as if it was just normal. You greeted Derek when you saw him by saying ‘Hey mate’ Or it would randomly slip out at the end of your sentences, it was a word he came to adore.

“Right, Okay.” Spencer nodded.

The next time was when you and Spencer had been sent by rossi to pick up more ingredients for the pasta he was making since the elder man underestimated how much he would need, it was also an unspoken thing to make you and Spencer go together.

The team collective decided that you two were made for each other, and would do anything they could in order to push you guys a little bit closer together — as if you guys really needed any help with that in the first place.

You started out with a basket Spencer was holding as the two of you walked down the aisles of the store, picking up the ingredients on the list Rossi had given the two of you. Only the basket was filling up fast and you still had a number of things you needed to grab.

“We might be better off grabbing a trolly” You hummed absentmindedly, as your hands reached for a packet of self raising flour, looking over it to make sure it was the right one.

Spencer immediately snorted out loudly, a fit of laughter leaving his lips as he tried to calm himself down in order to not make a scene in the middle of the shop. Your head turned to him, eyebrows pinched in confusion of what was so funny.

“What?” You asked, confusion lacing your tone as your eyes sparkled with amusement watching the boy laugh, his hands reaching down to place the basket on the floor as he then reached up to cover his face with his hands in order to settle his laughter down.

He shook his head, “What- What did you just say?” He asked, peeling his hands away from his face to look at you. You huffed out, knowing this routine all too well at this point, your eyes rolled as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Trolly.” You mumbled out, shaking your head but there was a smile on your lips anyways. He immediately started laughing again, you groaned but the smile never left. “Stop it Spence” You reached out to shove his shoulder playfully.

He calmed himself down, nodding his head, almost laughing himself to the point of tears. “I’m sorry- Im sorry..- Yeah we can go grab a trolly” He teased slightly, you immediately cringed at the way the word sounded leaving his lips with his accent, shaking your head immediately.

“You can’t say it. You say it wrong. You over pronounce it.” You mumbled out, cheeks tinting red at his teasing. Spencer just raised his eyebrow, clearly amused, entertained by how bothered and flustered you had become.

He chuckled again, dragging his hands down his face with a wide smile on his lips, “Maybe you just under pronounce it” He resorted back, raising his eyebrow slightly.

It was your turn to snort as you shook your head, placing the flour in the basket. “I can’t say it wrong, its my country’s word.” You shot back just as fast. He just laughed, he laughed and laughed.

Your eyes rolled again as you turned your back to him, biting your lip to hide the smile that threatened through at the sweet sound of his laughter. “Fine, lets get a Cart.” You mumbled out, putting on your best American accent which was actually terrible.

He gasped and shook his head quickly, reaching out to grab your arm to turn you back to face him, pulling you in a little bit closer. “Oh no— Thats so much worse.”

You laughed before you realised how genuinely close you were, you could feel his breath on your face, your eyes met his and the laughter seemed to die out as he seemed to realise the close proximity at the same time.

That was the first time Spencer had kissed you.

[mattiebluebird]

Yk that post that's like ‘signal is the spiritual successor to nightwing’ bc I DO & IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT NON-STOP.

And the comics pretty much confirm it (To Me) in Grayson #15.

So in this issue each of the Robins, minus Steph (RIP Steph) get paired off with one of the We Are Robin gang and give them their own advice on what it means to be Robin.

Tim—whose main problem with this whole thing is that they don't know these kids, how can they trust them?—gets paired with Andre Cipriani, a mob kid whose dad was murdered by a rival gang when he was eight years old. Tim trains Dre by having him fight blindfolded. He tells Dre that being a Robin is about truth and investigation, which makes sense, right? Tim became a Robin by figuring out Batman and Robin’s secret identity (keep this in mind, all the Robins’ advice links to their origin).

To be a Robin, you have to understand what you don't know. And then you must seek to know it. You must always ask: how can I see into the dark? Batman once told me, being a Robin can be summarized into one word: investigation.

These two were an interesting choice to pair up. I would've thought they'd put Dre with Jason, given their violent tendencies—Dre is smart, but at this point in the comics doesn't strike me as particularly investigative. Then again, right after this arc he goes undercover in a gang, so maybe he learned something?

Speaking of learning something: at first I thought they should've paired Dre with Steph (#teamcriminaldads lmao), and while that would be an interesting team, Dre did learn from Tim. If Riko were present in this issue, she would've been a good fit for Steph, as she idolizes the Batgirls and Steph was both a Batgirl and a Robin. Plus, Steph and Riko are both brave & have mean streaks, something that Riko has trouble showing because of her shyness. Steph’s advice probably would've been along the lines of “being a Robin is about defiance”.

Besides, if Tim and Dre weren't paired up, we never would've gotten this interaction.

— You like Liszt.

— What?

— Franz Liszt. The composer. You play the piano. I looked you up. People who play the piano like Liszt.

Points to Tim for the most autistic small talk ever. ‘You like this, which I know because I researched you in a totally non-creepy way.’ Amazing. 10/10.

Dax gets paired with Jason. They're interesting parallels. Dax is the inventor/mechanic of the team, but also sort of the wild card with very strong morals, like Robin!Jason in a way. Like Jason, Dax’s father is (implied to be) a crook, though they took different moral directions because of that—Dax is completely opposed to gun violence.

Anyways, Jason's main reservation is that you can't have Robin without Batman. And I guess he decided to solve this issue by just becoming Batman & making the WAR crew relive his origin story by stealing tires from the mob.

Y'know, kid, Batman once told me, being a Robin comes down to one word: confidence.

Jason Todd, the Crime Alley street kid who had the balls (and the skills) to steal Batman's tires and get away with it. Sort of. Confidence, indeed.

Damian's problem with the Robins is, of course, that they're weak, and strength (according to him) can't be trained; you either got it or you don't. He gets paired with Izzy, who probably has the toughest home life of the WAR crew. Her brother's in a gang (that he regularly beats her up for not joining), and she's failing all her classes because she's too busy working night shifts at her mom's restaurant to sleep or do homework.

So Damian's advice to her is pretty apt:

Batman told me that there is one word that captures the essence of being Robin. Suffering.

Damian and Izzy are both outwardly surly, stubborn characters who have had to fight to survive. Notably, Izzy is the first of the crew to almost resort to killing/guns (in WAR #6). She's also probably the best fighter in the WAR crew after Dre and Riko. She does dancing, gymnastics, judo, and kick-boxing.

And, finally, we reach the point of this whole post: Dick & Duke.

Duke deduces Dick's secret identity in like .5 seconds.

— I've solved a lot of hard in my time. This ain't hard.

— No. No, it wasn't hard. Not for you. Again, Duke Thomas?

Dick: You discovered my secret identity!

Duke: What? Like its hard?

After scoping out their strengths and weaknesses, Dick sends the Robins on individual assignments: Dre and Tim to investigate, Dax and Jason to cause a distraction, Izzy and Damian to apprehend Robo-Batman/Gordon.

Dick brings Duke on to a roof for a stake-out, where they have this exchange.

— You think only the originals understand how to be Robin?

— Nope.

— Yeah. Me neither.

Then it turns out that Dick actually turned them all in to the cops because he wanted them out of harm's way. He's been watching Duke for a while and he knows he's scared of heights, so he led him onto a roof he knew he couldn't get off of. Just before they part ways, Dick imparts his Crucial Robin Advice:

Batman once wais to me that being a Robin is about one thing. Family.

(I find this whole thing super ironic considering Dick's whole aside concerning the Robins was the fact that it doesn't matter if people know you're manipulating them as long as it works.)

The point of Robin? Family. Dick and Duke are alike in this way. Dick only became Robin to get justice for his parents’ murder. Duke only joined WAR to find his parents.

Their origins and motivations are similar, and so are the characters themselves. Dick is often called the world's second-greatest detective next to Batman himself. Duke is a child prodigy—one of our first introductions to his character is when he tried to solve the Riddler's riddles in Zero Year. He loves puzzles. He's an amazing detective.

And, of course, one of the things we know and love about Nightwing is his inherent kindness, something that's present throughout Duke’s entire character arc. Even their hero names, Signal and Nightwing, are parallels of each other (light and dark). Batman’s first sidekick and his last. And, like Nightwing, Signal formed his own team (WAR) with no help from the others (except Alfred ig).

Of course, the entire point of Signal’s character is that he's not just a Robin. He's something different. It reminds me of that post that's like—’poor dick grayson, originator of a legacy he never meant to be a legacy, crushed with guilt and jealousy when he looks at all those who came after’. To me at least, it makes sense that Nightwing’s successor would've never been a Robin at all.

[amirasainz]

okay okay i love the jealous alexandra!! but what about a continuation where it’s bff kika and amira vs alexandra and miss kika throws some hands!! maybe they were out on a girls day like they have kika and amira days and alexandra was there with her bff an iv and they got to shit talking and kika threw some punches, and amira was yelling in spanish like two very jumpy bffs, and pierre and charles are very much like it’d be painful if we hurt them, cause they may just kill us!! love the better girlfriend fic! this series is so so fun ❤️❤️ ( oml and kelly being very proud of her 2 younger wags when she find out )

I'm so sorry but at the end I had to laugh so bad. Please be aware that this is just a fic and not hate towards any persons mentioned.

I hope you enjoy reading and send me some requests.

-XoXo

The better girlfriend (Part 2)

Amira and Kika, inseparable as ever, embarked on another girls’ day in Monaco. Their bond was more than friendship—it was sisterhood. Kika played the role of confidante, makeup lender, and partner-in-crime during hungover mornings. Sweet “girl-dates” were their specialty, and Kika’s shoulder was always there for Amira to lean on.

But Kika wasn’t just a soft touch. Like any true best friend, she’d throw a punch or two if needed to defend Amira. Loyalty ran deep between them.

On this particular day, they indulged in a four-hour shopping spree, treating themselves to manicures and a relaxing spa session. To cap it off, they settled into a cozy restaurant for lunch, sipping delicious mimosas.

Seated at the back, they paid little attention to the other patrons—until a familiar voice reached their ears. It was one of those moments when fate intervened, weaving their lives together with unexpected threads.

"I honestly don't know what he sees in her." the annoying voice of Alex reached their ears. Amira and Kika shared a look, both of their faces looking unimpressed. "Yeah" was the weak reply from Alexandras best friend, Sarah. To be honest, Sarah wasn't Alex biggest fan at the moment. The whole stunt she did with kissing a man that was not her boyfriend wasn't ok. But going to said ex-boyfriends job and offend his new girlfriend publicly was just borderline crazy. In her opinion Amira is a sweet girl and a good girlfriend to Charles. No wonder that they are Sarah's favourite celebrity couple, but don't tell Alex.

"You should have seen her, she stood there like an idiot. She dresses like a whore. Hell, I bet she even behaves like one" Alexandra continued. "And of course little perfect Amira Sainz had to play the angel again and tell the media that she didn't take my words to heart. Does this bitch even know who I am? My word is law." For gods sake why couldn't she stop talking, thought Sarah.

Meanwhile, Kika and Amira listend to the one-sided conversation. Both girls started getting angrier the more they heard. While Amiras rage was the "I can destroy your life with one sentence" rage, Kika's blood was boiling. "Who does this stupid bitch think she is" muttered Kika.

But when Alexandra confessed she started the internet rumor of Amira having an eating disorder, all rational thoughts left her head. During those horrible rumours, Amira started really struggling. Anti-Ferrari fans and Anti-Charles fans took the presented possibility to write her online hate. Besides, starting rumours about serious topics like that is never alright, no matter who it is about. It was a very dark time for Amira.

Before Amira could even comprehend what was happening, Kika stood up and went to the neighbour table. "Hey, girlie" she said to Alex sweetly, before taking her hair and dragging her out of the chair. Alex screeched like an wounded animal, which gained the attention of the other guest and staff. One young waitress recognised the girls and started filming.

Kika pushed her to the floor and started ripping of her fake nails. "Who the fuck do you think you are talking about my best friend like that?" Alex and Kika started ringing on the floor. Obviously Kika had the upper hand. Amira, who was still angry, decided to encourage her besties behaviour. "Vamos, Kika. Acaba con esta estúpida zorra." she yelled. Kika shot her a little smile while Alex looked at her in horror. "Eso es, zorra. Toma tu puta opinión y a ver a quién le importa. " Amira said straight to her face, raising an eyebrow.

Kika slapped her one last time across the face, stood up and said loudly: "Can we get our sandwiches to-go, please?" Amira and Kika turned to the filming waitress who answered excitedly: "Girls, it's on the house for you." After paying their mimosas and taking their food, the two left.

Inside the car, Amira hugged Kika tight. "Thank you" she whispered tearfully. Kika didn't say anything back, just hugged her tighter. What the two girl's weren't aware of, was, that at this exact moment, their little video fight went viral. And boy, did the fans stand on Kikas and Amiras side.

Bonus (+):

Max and Kelly stood in front of the girls, the video on in the background. They knew Charles and Pierre wouldn't say anything against their behaviour, so they took it upon themselves to be that bad cops.

"I am very disappointed in you two. Instead of talking it out like an adult, you hit her, Kika. And you shouldn't have encouraged her, Amira. As a punishment you both are not allowed to have any girl-days for two weeks." explained Max tiredly. Instead of arguing, both girls silently nodded their heads.

After a moment of silence Max spoke again: "Kelly, don't you want to say anything as well?" "….Bad girls." was her only reply. While Max held his head in his hands, Kelly shot the two of them a secret wink.

[huexuri]

i have a thought! soob sending u a whimper audio or a lewd ass clip of him playing w himself bc he's so desperate for u to come back lol

yes omgeeee anon u are so smart !!!! i was thinking of something like this earlier but this seems like a better idea😭 also u are my first ask THANK UUUUUYYYUUUU

⋆ please come home (switch!soobin x switch!reader)

NSFW, MDNI!

(warnings: soob is switch(very sub lean) in this, reader is switch(dom lean), fem!reader, protective!soob, bratty!soob, degrading, masturbating, whimpering, sexting, dry humping, pet names: [good boy, baby, slut] thigh humping, tell me if there's more!)

note: ive been dying to get a request like this omg what a way to start the new year (HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERUONE)

"soob," you sighed.

you'd only be going out for a few hours to a party that one of your girlfriends practically begged you to go to, and since you haven't met her since the pandemic, of course you agreed to go. yet when soobin said himself that he absolutely didn't mind yesterday night, it didn't occur to you that 5 minutes before you head out, he'd be holding on to your arm asking who's gonna be there, where are you off to, etc. maybe it's just one of his protective traits, but you two agreed on this, so you weren't sure why he was so protective of you now.

"just promise you're not gonna go and let other guys hit on you okay? you know you get tipsy so easily right? i'm not saying i don't trust you at all ... i just don't want other guys to look at you! because you're so pretty in this dress... but only my eyes are allowed on you right? just don't go ar—"

"soobin!! i won't drink or anything okay? don't worry about me so much, just send me a message when you feel lonely okay? i'll talk to you on the phone if you need to. it's gonna be fine, soob.." you cut his words off, gave him a peck on the lips, smiled at him with reassurance and waved him a goodbye before he smiled back at you hesitantly.

"bye!! be safe!!!" was what soobin yelled as you were about to shut the front door, and all you could respond with was a louder "mhm!!!!" followed by the door flying shut.

an hour later, and you're sitting at the bar gossipping with all of your girlfriends. other than that, they constantly persuade you to drink. but knowing you, after one shot you go all red... which, sipping your iced water you decline their offer... over and over and over again. they just won't stop bugging you!!!,, so, you excuse yourself to the bathroom just to text your beloved.

sneaking yourself into a stall, you open your chat box to realize you'd left him on delivered for an hour ... "damn," you muttered to yourself, feeling bad that you possibly left him worried, but only 2 unread messages greet you with : "i miss you already!!:(" followed by a 2 minute long voice note.

you immediately plug in your earphones, ready to listen to whatever song he wanted to sing or whatever gossip he had to tell you.

"haa... miss you s-so bad.... mmh... come home pretty please?—a-ah fuck....."

immediately your eyes widened at the lewd sounds he made, you paused the voice note with a look on your face as if you just got caught commiting a crime. it caught you SO off guard, that was the thing you least expected ...., he knew you had a thing for his moans. in fact, it was one of your major turn-ons.. but soobin was never a vocal person in bed, he'd deny it even. if he made any sounds, he'd get flustered immediately. he thought it made him seem too feminine, so he never believed you when you said you liked it.

was this really him? you thought to yourself..

your finger hesitantly pressed the resume button on your screen.

"f-fuck, baby.. i'm c-cumming, aah,, you like it? come... c-come back for it.. ss—shit !!.."

2 minutes in, the audio coming to an end, you felt your thighs squeeze against each other, you felt your walls clench around nothing. my god, he sounded heavenly. you could hear the squelches of him stroking himself up and down, you could practically hear his pace fasten as his breaths became more irregular and his moans slowly increase in volume. you could literally tell when he busted all over himself. and oh, you did not know how much this aroused you until today.

screw this party, screw the drinks. he SO knew how to get you to come back home.

"i'm coming." you simply sent him, then you get ready to leave. after you left the stall, with a "sorry everyone, i have to go back, it's urgent.", you hastily left the party.

you practically bust the door open when you reach back to your apartment, panting as you see soobin lying on the couch scrolling away on his phone as if he didn't just get you leaking out of your panties. this son of a bitch, seriously.... teasing like that and acting like nothing happened??

"oh hey! you're finally back!! i missed you~" soobin happily exclaimed as got off the couch and walked up to you to give you a peck.

when you don't reply, he has the audacity to ask you what's wrong. towering over you, he still acts cute and ignorant until you nudge him against the door as it flings shut. your knees are in between his slightly bent legs and immediately you shove your lips into his, cupping his face as your tongues fight for dominance. your free hand reaches down to his bulge to stroke it through his pants. he moans into your mouth and oh my fucking god did it turn you on even more. how badly did you miss his beautiful voice? you could feel his erection start to fill in the space in your palm as it grew bigger and harder. pulling away from the kiss with both of you panting, soobin only pouts at you..

"what did i doooo? why so rough?" he looked at you with glistening, innocent eyes. not so innocent though, because he knew what he was fucking doing.

squeezing his clothed cock in response, he let out a soft moan at that. "soobin you fucking brat ... you KNOW what you're doing." you say in between breaths.

in a blink of an eye he'd flipped you over, now your back leaning the door with a soft thud, "brat, huh? say it again.." soobin responded, with a smug smile on his face.

when you don't respond but smash your lips back onto his, his dominant composure melts away into your kiss and he desperately grinds against your bare thighs. you rock your hips in response and his moan travels down your throat again. your hand wanders around, tugs on his waistband and sinks under, where now you feel the material of his boxers and his cock that twitches in your palm. your other hand runs up his shirt and tugs at his nipple, which he bucks his hips in response. he finally pulls away from the kiss, this time sloppier, and runs a finger though your hair. you took your hand off his boxers and your other hand out of his shirt, and placed them both on his shoulders.

"do you want it?" you muttered.

"i've been waiting for so long," soobin whispered, barely able to make out words.

"promise that you'll put those vocals to use?"

"y-yes."

now your hands leaving his shoulders and holding onto his wrist, you lead him to the sofa and pushed him onto his back.

"couldn't even wait until i came home, huh.." you muttered as you quickly unbuckled your tight leather dress. soobin only looked up at you with eager eyes when your dress fell off of your shoulders, exposing your body to the cold air. throwing the dress on the ground, you pull his pants down as well. just as he was going to take off his boxers you grabbed his wrist, and instead sunk down onto his hard on, the both of you clothed.

"but—"

"soobin, patience.."

you interlocked your fingers with his and started to grind down on him. his precum and your slick starts to seep through the cloth and soon you were sloppily humping him. he didn't lie when he said he was going to put those vocals to use, because as you rocked against him, he let out the most heavenly sounds you'd ever heard from him. those broken moans, only he could see how badly it turned you on. his fucked out face and his wet hair weren't helping either.

"i r-really want to cum ... p-please!—" soobin was only able to mumble between whimpers.

"not yet, hang in there..." you cupped his face, then thrusting a finger into his mouth. "take it like the good boy you are, and maybe i'll let you cum in me.."

soobin only nodded in response, his eyes squeezed shut as he sucked on your finger like his life depended on it — his saliva coating every surface of your finger.

"gooood boy... so needy just for me... huh? sent me a clip of you playing with yourself just so i can help you finish?"

his eyes fluttered open with the neediest look someone could ever look up at you from, in response to the pet name. you smiled at that and let him release your fingers. you pulled down your soaked panties and motioned him to do the same, he looked at you with a "really?" kind of look, and when you assured him, his cock immediately sprung out of his boxers— tip fiery red and shaft twitching like it's deprived of touch.

"do you wanna fuck me?" you said as you lied down on your back, looking down at him, looking like he's been desperate to fuck you.

"oh my god.." soobin panted.

soobin positioned himself in between your legs, his twitching cock against your aching cunt, he looked at you with a final confirmation.

"go ahead, baby."

with one full thrust he thrusted into you. unaware about his bigness, when you winced slightly in pain he was worried if he'd done anything. but since he was so desperate... you didn't want to ruin his moment, so you let him.

"s-soobin... fuck.."

"shit, baby.. you're so fucking— t-tight..."

eventually, your walls had moulded into the shape of him, and each thrust became less and less painful, more and more pleasurable. you were so focused on how good he felt when it caught you off guard that he started to play with your clit, long, veiny fingers flicking up and down on your swollen bud as he thrusted in and out of you at a controlled pace.

"fuck, fuck— when did you— get this g-good with your fingers... mmh..." you muttered.

soobin looked down at you with a satisfied smile and continued to rub circles on your clit,, soon his thrusts became sloppier, strings of saliva mixed with all sorts of other bodily fluids connecting soobin's body with yours...

"i'm—fuck, c-can i please!! please please... please let me c-cum.. mmh—!" soobin moaned, with obvious need in his voice, beads of tears welling up at his eyes, sweat dripping down his chest and soaking his shirt,,

"s-soobin... you can cum, baby ..... s-shit i—i'm—" your voice shakey, you could feel yourself reaching your climax. you fisted his shirt and pulled him closer to you, now chest to chest, you pulled him in a sloppy kiss, he moaned into you as you felt his warm seed fill you up to the brim.

you both stayed like this for a whole 5 minutes in silence. you thought he'd fallen asleep until..

"thank you.." soobin whispered.

"what?"

"thank you for coming back home."

"mm.."

"do you really like it when i'm vocal?"

"are you fucking serious, soobin?" you playfully smacked his back in a effort to hit him.

you could feel soobin grin against your ear.

"let's go get you cleaned up, pretty." soobin patted your head as he got off of you.

"hey, you too.." you weakly responded.

soobin could only giggle at that, and you scoffed.

[imgeekgirlfan]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : VI]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings:  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content waring : 18+ smut/nsfw, manipulation, fingering, p in v, virgnity loss, unprotected sex, creampie (Just asking for a friend: Do the Bene Gesserit need a condom?🤔)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary: On your twentieth birthday, after spending nearly three years with Qimir, you finally decide to reveal your secret to him. And from that moment, your relationship with him will never be the same again.

Status: work in progress (This is a long fanfic that will be about 10+ chapters.)

A/N : As mentioned, This fan fiction mixes elements from two universes, so some details might not match canon perfectly. I’ve made adjustments but will try to keep key canon elements intact. I hope you read this for enjoyment, not to nitpick details.

ps. Writing smut in English is rather demanding for me. I hope you can forgive any mistakes in this EP. I’ve done my best 😭

➡  Intro // EP : I // EP : II // EP : III // EP : IV // EP : V // EP : VII

[Episodes 6] Four things cannot be hidden—love, smoke, a pillar of fire and a man striding across the open bled.

On your twentieth birthday, after spending three years with Qimir, you finally decide to reveal your secret to him.

There is no point in hiding it any longer, especially after he has already seen something he shouldn’t have on that ship. Besides, you no longer wish to conceal it. That near-death experience has changed your perspective—not just on your own feelings but also on the visions that have surfaced from deep within your subconscious. Through the fog of time, you sense profound changes—both in the future paths and in the bond between you and him.

A bond you never wanted to form. Feelings you wish to deny. But no matter how hard you try, in the end, you can’t escape it.

Sometimes, fate has a strange way of twisting things—you can’t help but think that when you recall your first meeting. You hated Qimir with all the intensity of your feelings. You couldn’t stand him. There were moments you even plotted his death, planning to flee far away. But who would have thought that three years later, you’d find yourself lying in his arms on a small bed in a rundown hotel near the Starports on Olega, far removed from the bloody events on Tatooine.

You are uncertain if it can even be called love. But one thing is certain: Qimir's presence changes your life forever. He changes you. You change him. And you have no idea if it is for better or worse.

Resting your head on Qimir's chest, you let his large hand caress your back. It's strange how safe you feel with him, despite having witnessed him kill so many people.

But it's not just you who feels this way. Qimir doesn't seem to fear you either. His words are blunt and direct when he finally asks about what he's seen. "I saw what you did—you control people with just your words," Qimir says. "What exactly are you? A member of some witch's coven?"

He turns on his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, holding you close as if to comfort you from the terrifying events that have unfolded earlier. Yet at the same time, it is clear he intends to keep you there, preventing you from leaving until you answer his question honestly.

You know Qimir’s intent, but do not push back. You remain silent for a moment before replying.

"It is an ancient technique passed down by my people," you confess, feeling as though you are revealing a terrible sin to some forgotten god. "We use our voice to command others, bending their will to our desires." You pause before adding, "And no, I am not part of any witch’s coven. My mother said those covens are nothing but lowly imitators, trying to replicate what we truly are."

"Your people? What do you mean?" Qimir frowns, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. A wave of unease washes over you as you realize that the moment of truth is finally upon you.

“I am Bene Gesserit.”

Bene Gesserit—those words, foreign to most in this age, are known only to a select few who have studied ancient history.

According to old records, before the rise of the Jedi Order, the Bene Gesserit was a powerful religious order that held great power throughout the galaxy, known as the Sisterhood. They only accepted women deemed worthy into their ranks.

It is said that the Bene Gesserit were the true originators of the Force, passing down their teachings through generations. The Bene Gesserit sisters possessed mysterious powers and physical capabilities far beyond the reach of ordinary people. They could neutralize poisons within their own bodies, control others with the power of the voice, and train their minds and bodies to heights that defied natural limits. Some could even glimpse into the future with an eerie sense of prophecy, though only fragments of what was to come—except for the Reverend Mothers who led the order. They alone held the power to peer through the memories of their ancestors, journeying through the past, present, and distant future.

And it was this obsession with the visions they received that drove their beliefs. The Bene Gesserit were convinced that the universe was heading toward destruction, haunted by the prospect of a terrible future. Their only solution was to guide human evolution to its pinnacle through meticulous breeding programs that spanned generations. They strengthened their power by sending their sisters to marry and breed with the ruling houses of various planets, integrating themselves into the political and religious structures, and influencing every layer of society, from the lowest to the highest ranks—all for one ultimate goal: the creation of the Kwisatz Haderach, a superior human who transcended all others.

Yet ironically, it was the Kwisatz Haderach himself who brought about the very doom of the universe, which the Bene Gesserit had feared and attempted to avoid all along.

The Bene Gesserit succeeded in creating the Kwisatz Haderach as intended, but they utterly failed to control him. Paul Atreides, the only son of Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica of the Atreides, a Bene Gesserit sister, became a religious icon before he reached twenty. He was revered as the Lisan al Gaib—Voice from the Outer World—and was worshiped as a godhead. He led the Fremen, the ancient people of Arrakis, in a jihad that spread across the galaxy. Tens of millions perished in the holy war, and hundreds of millions more during the tyrannical rule of the Kwisatz Haderach’s own son.

Eventually, the Kwisatz Haderach's dynasty was annihilated by the vengeful masses, and the universe slowly began to heal, giving rise to numerous new sects, including the Jedi Order.

The Bene Gesserit were said to have vanished during this time, and rumors of their demise were widespread. Some claimed that the Kwisatz Haderach, driven by his hatred for the Sisterhood, had eradicated them entirely, while others believed they were blamed for the jihad and were hunted down by the vengeful populace.

Regardless of the cause, the true reason for the destruction of the Bene Gesserit was their overwhelming power and the mysterious goals they pursued. It was decided that the Bene Gesserit witches should no longer exist in the universe, as no one wanted to risk the emergence of a second Kwisatz Haderach.

For thousands of years, you have been the last Bene Gesserit. Although your skills and powers are far weaker than those of your ancestors due to a lack of proper training, you still surpass both Jedi and Sith. Your power is the source of the Force they wield—an ancient power that none can fully replicate unless they are also Bene Gesserit.

“I am not only a Bene Gesserit; I am also a Fremen,” you reveal, deciding to share another layer of your secret with him. You point to your deep blue eyes, the eyes of Ibad, the distinct mark of your ancient race, now long extinct along with the Bene Gesserit. “My Fremen name is Hara[1], a name known only to my mother."

You are surprised at yourself for disclosing your Fremen name to him. For the Fremen, a tribal name carries deep meaning and significance, given only to those who can be trusted completely.

However, you feel a sense of relief after finally speaking, though it's not complete. There are still secrets you haven’t shared with him, but revealing this much is already more than enough. You trust Qimir, but you are unsure how much of this truth he can truly accept. Deep down, you are terrified he might see you as a monster, shun you, or worse, decide to eliminate you like others might. Your very existence might be too dangerous to allow you to survive.

But Qimir says nothing. He appears deep in thought, his expression unreadable. You can’t discern his feelings, and the silence grows unbearable. Finally, you ask, 'Do you fear me now that you know who I am?'"

As the words leave your mouth, you bite your lip unconsciously while waiting for his reply, worry gnawing at you. How strange it is to be afraid of his rejection more than your own death."

"Fear?" Qimir tilts his head, puzzled by your question for a moment. Seeing your distressed expression, he quickly grasps your concern. "I have no reason to fear you," he says, stepping closer to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, then the tip of your nose. "I do not fear you," he emphasizes, sealing his words with a firm kiss on your lips.

You let Qimir kiss you a little longer. When he finally gives you a chance to catch your breath, you ask, 'Even though I am dangerous?' Your voice is barely a whisper, filled with uncertainty.

Everything feels too perfect and too smooth, and instead of providing reassurance, it only makes you feel more uneasy.

Qimir smiles widely, almost as if he wants to laugh but is holding it back. "Oh, in that case, it’s me you should fear more." He teases, his tone playful, as he resumes kissing you. Not on your lips, but now on your ear, nibbling playfully, while one of his hands moves up to your breast, caressing and teasing your nipple through the fabric with his thumb.

Your eyes widen as you realize what is about to happen. You grab Qimir’s arm, quickly halting his mischievous actions before things can go any further. “Qimir,” you call out his name, your heart pounding, your voice faltering with each shaky breath.

Qimir stops immediately, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. You see the clear reflection of desire in his dark eyes. “Don’t want to?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of pleading, though the playful smirk at the corner of his mouth suggests something more sly, as if he knows every thought in your mind without reading it, knowing that you won’t refuse.

His knowing demeanor makes you feel annoyed, but there is little you can do. In a situation like this, you are at a disadvantage in nearly every way.

“Well, I…” You try to speak but hesitate for a moment, your cheeks burning hot as if set aflame. You don’t know how to explain it to him without making yourself feel even more embarrassed. “I don’t know how... I’ve never... you understand, right?”

That isn’t entirely true. Even though you have never been intimate with anyone, you aren’t that naive. As a Bene Gesserit, you can see the past through ancestral memories, which sometimes bring you glimpses of things you shouldn’t see, intruding into your dreams. But dreams and reality are entirely different. You feel out of place, unsure of what to do, like someone who has read extensively but fails when it comes to practical application.

Qimir lets out a clear laugh, his sly smile shifting to one of genuine amusement, making you blush even more. Before you can protest, he seizes the moment and silences you with a kiss.

This time, though, it feels different.

Never before has a kiss between you two felt so deep and intense. His lips and tongue are sharp and distinct as they invade, filled with a potent desire that permeates every touch, burning with unwavering purpose, as if he wants to touch the very core of your being, reaching the true self you have never revealed to anyone.

When he finally pulls back, he doesn’t move far. His mouth lingers on your lips, and his hands gently cradle your cheeks. “Relax, don’t be afraid,” Qimir whispers, his lips trailing to your neck, feeling the rapid pulse beneath your skin, then moving down to your chest. “I told you before, you don’t need to hide yourself when you’re with me.” His voice is soft, almost dreamlike, but every touch is real.

You follow his lead, as if under a spell, letting him undress you without resistance. His large hands roam over every part of your soft skin, planting kisses along the curves of your body, from your shoulders down to your hips, and finally to the inside of your thighs. His dark eyes examine your naked form without looking away, not missing a single detail, taking in every perfection and flaw—nothing hidden, nothing concealed.

“I want you to feel every emotion within you—anger, fear, and desire…” The word ‘desire’ from Qimir’s lips was as sweet as honey. “Embrace who you truly are, what you can be, and what you can do when you’re with me—only with me.”

You flinch as his fingertips brush against your delicate folds before sliding inside you. You can feel every knuckle as he slowly works his way deeper, one finger becoming two, gently stretching you as he allows you to grow accustomed to the sensation. He then begins to move them slowly, his thumb rubbing your bud, massaging every sensitive spot inside and out, sending shivers of unfamiliar pleasure through your body.

Waves of strange, stinging bliss ripple across your skin, making you restless as you writhe in the throes of sharp delight. But his other hand presses firmly on your lower abdomen, forcing you to stay still.

“Be a good girl,” Qimir admonishes, a grin tugging at his lips, clearly enjoying watching you struggle helplessly beneath him.

You moan, burying your face in the pillow, your entire body trembling with the intensity of your climax, making you feel like you are floating in a sea of stars. After catching your breath for a moment, you look up to see Qimir hastily removing his own clothes. His skin is pale, his body sculpted with lean, defined muscles, as beautiful as a statue in a temple. But what sets him apart are the scars, some small, some large, like cracks in marble. Yet these imperfections only make him more striking, unique, and beautiful.

Qimir turns to look at you, fully aware that you have been watching him the entire time. His face softens in the dim light, but his eyes remain dark. You sense the intense longing within them—a desire he’s harbored for a long time. You wonder why you never noticed the fragile restraint in him until now. He seems on the verge of snapping, as if he’s been wound too tight, ready to unravel at any moment.

Qimir wastes no time, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close until there’s no space left between you and him. His hardness presses firmly against the crevice of your thighs, the heat spreading through your body as his cock gradually sinks into your swollen slit, filling you completely.

A low moan escapes his lips, soft and barely audible. Qimir pauses briefly, giving you a chance to catch your breath and adjust. As he takes a moment to relish the closeness, he revels in the warmth of your tight, slick, silky walls that embrace his length perfectly.

"It might hurt at first, but it’ll get better soon. Just bear with it," he murmurs, his hand gently stroking your hair. He plants a warm kiss on your cheek, trying to comfort you as your face contorts with pain. It feels like he’s about to tear you apart as he pushes in fully. You lock eyes with him in shock as a flood of emotions washes over you—strange, frightening, painful, and thrilling all at once.

Your lips part, letting out a silent moan as Qimir begins to move, thrusting in to the hilt until you can feel every inch of him deep within you. He brushes away a stray lock of black hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His lips press a kiss to your sweat-dampened temple as his hips thrust forward, quickening the pace. Your soft inner walls tighten, clenching around him as his tip repeatedly hits your sweet spot.

By now, the pain has subsided, replaced by waves of pleasure building inside you, ready to explode.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you grip Qimir's shoulders as if your life depends on his mercy. Your hips rise to meet his movements, every fiber of your being striving to get closer to him, nearly melding into one.

The rhythm changes slightly, slowing down and becoming less steady but more forceful. You pant heavily, feeling the climax approaching, each movement bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Just a few more thrusts, and you both reach the peak together. He spills into you, his release filling you up and spilling over. The hot, wet feeling of his cum makes your body shiver and feel dizzy, still unaccustomed to these new sensations.

The room gradually returns to calm. When Qimir pulls away, your body suddenly feels light and empty, like weightless cotton. You drift in the calm afterglow, enveloped in his embrace as he nuzzles you, kisses your cheeks and forehead, and caresses your hair tenderly, just as lovers do."

But there are no words of 'love' from his lips. The last thing you hear from Qimir before slipping into sleep is, 'You’re no longer alone. You belong to me.”

Instead of feeling reassured by these words, a strange unease flickers through your mind, as if you've just stepped onto a path of grave mistake.

[1] In Fremen culture (as depicted in the film Dune), Fremen names are special names that differ from regular ones, only shared with outsiders when there’s deep trust and acceptance. For example, Chani tells Paul her Fremen name, 'Sihaya,' as a sign of accepting him as a lover. That’s why the reader needs a Fremen name—it’s culturally important (and I certainly WILL NOT USE Y/N as a Fremen name, absolutely no way!). I’ve hinted at this name since EP : I (if you pay attention, you’ll notice it), and it ties into the story, so I hope you're okay with the name I picked.

[strwberri-milk]

[waddles into the ask box like a deranged penguin]

your queue is empty? this is a crime. i am here to fix

food for thought: our beloved kaeya teaching us how to ride a horse. chaos & typical kaeya flirtation ensues.

ive been thinking about kaeya a lot lately,,,,,

You never had a reason to learn how to ride a horse. Kaeya's supposed to lead a cavalry. It makes perfect sense for you to ask him to teach you how to ride as you watch him saddle up his horse. He'd promised to take you for a ride today and you didn't see why you couldn't be the one leading the horse around.

He thinks it'll be fun, smiling at you and helping you onto the horse. He was considering seeing if he could borrow another horse to take you with him but decides against it last minute. It'd be far more entertaining to be sitting behind you, arms around your waist as he tells you what he wants you to do.

You thought that it would be some light hearted fun with minor teasing from Kaeya. You understand that horses spook easily and you thought that he'd be nicer to you and actually focus on teaching you how to ride the horse safely. What you didn't know is that the horse Kaeya happened to care for was a very calm, unspookable creature. It wouldn't matter how much you squirmed - the mare was more than content to keep pace with whatever was being asked of her.

Kaeya fully takes advantage of this and leans into your back, resting his chin on your shoulder. Every time he asks you to do something he whispers into your ear, palm pressing against your stomach a little tighter to signal you to pay attention. You whine and keen, leaning into his touch but he doesn't care, secretly using his own legs to control the horse as yours are far too weak to be used properly.

When the two of you finally get back home you need his help to get off of the horse. Once you get off he keeps you in his arms, carrying you back home and teasing you for being so riled up that you didn't listen to a single one of his instructions. He promises that the two of you are going to spend more time working on your horse riding skills, giving you a smug smile at the way your cheeks heat up.

[lillysdreaminnn]

Labyrinth.

Labyrinth; introduction.

Pairing; aaron hotchner x fem!oc

Words; 2.2k

Summary; Ivy got accepted to fill the empty place in the behavioural analysis unit - what she's been after her whole life - and meets her boss and colleagues for the first time.

Warnings; swearing, Derek being Derek, JJ being a little shit here and there (but we love her 🫶🏻), not proofread, i suck at warnings that's all ive got :)

A/n; hi! I decided to post my fic on here too! You can also find it on wattpad under the name Oceanbringerr (my dad picked it out 💀). It's my first fic 🫢 comments and reblogs are heavily appreciated and I hope you enjoy 🫶🏻🫶🏻

"So, do you think I'm hired?" Ivy muttered, fixing her blazer for what seemed to be the fifteenth time. April just shot her a glare, basically scolding her.

 "Okay babe; relax. You've been after this your whole life. You got this, I promise you honey." April tried to reassure her sister once again, watching her mess with her outfit more - messing it up even more.

 "Ivy, I swear to fucking God if you mess with your blazer one more time I will murder you." Violet, the eldest of the family, yelled as she shot up from her spot on Ivy's bed. She stormed over to her sister, forcefully fixing the blazer and top.

 "You're beautiful, honey." She said, a lot calmer this time. "I don't want him to employ me just because I'm beautiful." Ivy scoffed at her two sisters, putting her hair up in a slick ponytail, wanting to seem as serious as she felt about all this.

"So you haven't even met your boss yet?" Violet asked, popping a piece of chocolate in her mouth after she sat back down on Ivy's - once - perfectly made bed.

 "No, not yet. I only met section chief Erin Strauss... She seemed... Fine?" Ivy said with a soft laugh, turning back to her sisters who shot her a thumbs up. "Anyway, I have to go. Don't eat all of these, your date will go perfectly fine, plus you have seven more hours to stress about it." The girl snatched the chocolate away from her sister, smiling as Violet whined like a child.

 "Fine. Have fun!" The oldest sister called out after the youngling - in Violet's very words - as she ran out the door.

 Blasting some music in her car, Ivy was quick to arrive at the bureau. She took a moment to herself, staring at the building in complete and utter awe, telling herself that she finally made it. After all those years of pure blood, sweat and tears - maybe even literally - she was finally there.

 Taking a deep breath, she put her name-tag on and walked inside the huge building with a box of her stuff. She was greeted by the usual lovely agents she always passed as she made her way to the elevators, pressing the number eight.

 "Hold the doors!" A voice called out, making Ivy put her hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. Once the sensor got her hand, the doors re-opened, revealing a tall, strong man.

 He's handsome. Ivy thought to herself, smiling politely at him.

 "Thank you." He smiled at her, holding a cup of coffee in his left hand. "You're new here?" He asked Ivy, making her look up at him. "Uh, not exactly. I've just been promoted to the behavioural analysis unit." She said with a smile.

 She thought she was bragging, but she had every right to; she had been chasing after this her entire life.

 The man smiled, making Ivy smile a little wider too. "So you're the new recruit, huh? Nice to meet you, I'm Derek Morgan." He introduced himself, making Ivy almost drop her stuff. Of course she had heard of Derek Morgan. Who hadn't?

 The specialist on obsessional crimes.

 "It's very nice to meet you, Derek." Ivy offered him another friendly smile, since she was holding a pretty heavy box in her arms. "I take it you're meeting Hotch today." He laughed a little at Ivy's worried expression.

 "Yup." She nodded, her polite smile never faltering. "He's not as scary as he seems. He likes to play it tough, but he's very nice." Derek said as the two walked out of the elevators and into the bullpen.

"Good luck and welcome to the team, agent." Derek said with a small smile as he walked to his desk, leaving Ivy lost.

 "Staircase, first door to your right." A girly voice called from next to her, making her head snap towards the blonde woman next to her. Finally a familiar face.

 "Hi JJ." Ivy smiled, wrapping her free arm around the girls waist, as she hugged Ivy back with a similar smile. "Hi honey. Let me take you to Hotch, he's been quite stressed as well." JJ said with a laugh, leading Ivy to their boss's office.

 She knocked on the door and waited for the green light, so they could walk inside. When they did get the green light, JJ opened the door, Ivy standing behind her like a lost child.

 "Hey, Hotch. Look who's here." JJ said, making the man look up from his papers, a subtle scowl on his face. The scowl disappeared when his eyes landed on the terrified girl behind JJ.

 Jesus Christ, man up Ivy. You're a full blown FBI agent, for fuck's sake.

 "You must be agent Monroe." Said Hotch, as he got up from his chair, stretching his hand out to Ivy, who gladly gave him a handshake with a smile.

 "It's very nice to meet you, sir." She said, using both hands to hold her box again. JJ had left the two be, shutting the door behind her as well. Hotch motioned for Ivy to sit, which she did after putting her box next to her feet.

 "Strauss told me all about you and your achievements and I have to admit; I'm surprised. In the best way, of course." Hotch said looking down at some files and then back up at Ivy.

 He's stressed.

 The files on his desk had nothing to do with Ivy and she knew it. He looked down because of the awkwardness in the room, which didn't take a profiler to notice.

 "Thank you, sir. I'm very honoured to be here." She said, a small smile on her face as well. Derek told her Hotch looked - and she quotes - 'scary' but to her he seemed just fine. Maybe a little intimidating, but that's about it.

 After a very in depth talk about the job and some of Ivy's accomplishments, Ivy was cleared to go set up. With a polite handshake, she picked up her box and started heading out, when Hotch's voice stopped her.

 "Oh and please; call me Hotch. We're collegues now."

 Ivy smiled and nodded, mumbling a soft 'bye' as she shut the door behind herself. She made her way down to the bullpen and found the desk Hotch had told her about, placing her box on it and sighing. She took a moment to look around, smiling to herself.

 "Meeting with the boss went well?" Derek's voice rang out of nowhere, making Ivy slightly jump. "You're jumpy for an FBI agent." He joked, making Ivy laugh. "I'm not gonna fight that." She chuckled, staring to set up on her desk.

 "Need any help?" Derek offered and before a woman scoffed with a laugh, "Let the poor girl set up her stuff before you start flirting." A woman with raven black hair said, laughing a little.

 Damn, why's everyone so fine in here?

 "Hey, I wasn't flirting! I was just... offering a helping hand to the newbie." Derek defended himself, making the woman laugh again as she shook her head. "Don't mind him, he's a flirt but a really nice guy. Hi, I'm Emily Prentiss." Emily stretched a hand out to Ivy.

 Ivy gladly shook her hand while politely smiling at her. "Nice to meet you, Emily, I'm Ivy." She said, making Emily smile as well.

 "Very pretty name." Emily chuckled, making Ivy's cheeks turn a dusty pink. "Thank you." Ivy said with a smile, staring to set up her stuff on her desk.

 Derek was sat in his spinny chair while Emily was standing, both watching the younger agent set up her office. "Do you need anything?" Ivy laughed awkwardly, as the two agents basically ogled at her. "Sorry, you just look so much like JJ..." Derek said, sounding as confused as he looked.

 "We're second cousins." Ivy laughed, stopping her movements so she could look at the two with an amused smile. "Oh my God! You're the Ivy she talks about!" Emily realised, pointing a finger at Ivy, who was horribly trying to hold back her laughter.

 "That's me" She said, motioning to herself.

 "I pictured you a redhead." Emily mumbled, mainly to herself, but Ivy heard and chuckled.

 "It's the name."

 "It's the DC villain."

 "Maybe both."

 "Both." Both women nodded, a similar grin on their faces.

 Derek just sat confused, watching the two women talk as if they had known each other for ages. "I'm very confused." He commented, mumbling to himself, "You look confused." Emily pointed out as Derek scoffed jokingly.

 "I do not." He defended himself.

 "Why's Derek confused?" A tall, scrawny boy asked as he walked by, sitting across Ivy's desk. God damnit, he's cute too.

 "Oh fuck you."

 Ivy could only laugh at the sibling-like interaction between Emily, Derek and the boy - who seemed awfully young to be witnessing such horrors the BAU saw daily. "Because; Spencer, this is Ivy. The cousin JJ always talks about." Emily introduced, making Spencer nod with a side smile.

 "JJ talks about you very often. I always pictured you a redhead, though." Spencer said with a chuckle, making Ivy smile. He was indeed very cute.

 "Well, I'm obviously a blonde. But I've been thinking about changing it up a li-"

 "Don't even finish that sentence missy." JJ's voice called out suddenly, making Ivy groan. "Why do you always spawn so randomly? Does the universe put money in the slot or something?" Ivy mumbled, making Derek laugh subtly.

 "Ivy, you remember how it went last time you tried to dye your hair." JJ laughed, sitting on her cousin's desk with a smile eerily identical to Ivy's, who just smiled softly and looked down to her feet.

 "How'd it go?" Emily asked with a curious smile.

 "Miss Monroe here had greenish hair for like a month." Ivy shot her cousin a glare, trying to hold back her own laughter. Eventually she gave in and started laughing as well, shaking her head a little.

 "Yeah okay, it was a disaster. Something went wrong with the dye and I ended up with green hair." Ivy explained, everyone laughing at the mental picture of their new friend with green hair.

 Ivy continued setting up her desk while chatting with the rest of the team, getting to know them better. Ny the end of their shifts, they had done their work and even tried to help Ivy but she wouldn't let them.

 "Go home, Emily." Ivy said with a laugh as Emily sighed in defeat. "Fine. But text me when you get home." The raven haired woman said, patting Ivy's shoulder as a goodbye gesture.

 It was nine when Emily left, leaving Hotch and Ivy alone.

 Two hours later, Hotch exited his office, seeking some caffeine to keep him up for the ridiculous amount of paperwork he had for some reason, when he spotted his new agent. "She's still here?" He mumbled to himself, surprised that Ivy was there.

 He shrugged it off and made his way to the coffee machiene, deciding to leave the girl be for now. That was all out the window when he saw the exhaustion in her face when she lifted her head from her paperwork to sip her own coffee.

 So he decided to be a good boos and check on her.

 "Hey, Monroe. You alright?" He asked, reaching her desk.

 Ivy looked up from her files and smiled at Hotch, nodding her head. "Yeah, I just want to get these out of the way so I have less for tomorrow." She said with a soft smile, making Hotch smile too.

 She's interesting.

 "What are you still doing here?" Ivy asked back, as Hotch sighed and rubbed his eyes, "Chief duties." He said with a faint smile, making Ivy giggle. "It's eleven at night." Ivy pointed out, a soft smile on her face.

 "Your point?"

 "It's too late to work."

 "You're working too."

 "Not for long." Ivy smirked, tapping her pen shut and putting her hair up, "I'm officially done with these, plus if I stay an other minute awake I actually think I'll go crazy." She chuckled, taking the thick stack of files in her arms.

 "I'll take them to my office, don't worry about it; go home." Hotch said, putting the full coffee mug down on Ivy's desk as he reached for the papers. "It's fine, Hotch, honestly." Ivy tried to stop him, but he insisted.

 "You look exhausted, Monroe. Leave those to me and go rest." Ivy gave up and sighed with a smile, "Fine." She passed the files over to Hotch, who easily held them up with one hand while Ivy needed both.

 Damn.

 Ivy sighed and put her coat on, placing her bag over her shoulder. She finished off her coffee and threw away the papercup, while making sure she got everything she needed. Once she gathered the last of her things, she walked to the doors about to leave when a voice called out to her.

 "Goodnight Monroe." Hotch's voice called out, not even looking at her as he opened the door to his office.

 "Goodnight Hotch." Ivy chuckled, shaking her head as she walked to the elevators, calling it a day finally.

[stationintern]

Hello all,

November was… it certainly was. But, no matter how much life is life-ing, we always have fics. Thank the heavens, truly, for all of you beautiful people.

I found and revisited so many FANTASTIC fics this month, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did as we carry on into December.

Let’s go!!!

The Edge Of Something by @tackytigerfic M, 1.4k

This was so hot I may have melted a bit. At this point, the tackytiger agenda isn’t even an agenda anymore. It’s a lifestyle. A quick and juicy MUST READ!

On Permanence by @the-starryknight M, 1.4k

Like the tags say, this fic is actually quite soft. I don’t think I’ve recced anything by Starry before, which is very surprising considering every time I read something they’ve written I have to stare at my ceiling for a few minutes. Very soft, very sweet. Eternally lovely writing from Starry.

Connecting Lines, Connecting Crimes by @sleepstxtic M, 15k

Fic writers will never cease to amaze me. This was so well done. Incredibly relevant, tender, and clearly made with love and passion. And it’s FREE! I cant believe I get to read fics like this. @sleepstxtic, this was so beautiful.

port in a storm by saltwatergarden M, 8k

God, I love a Draco Malfoy who runs a business. Cant stress that enough, actually. Loved the well thought through circumstances here, and have spent at least two nights imagining an epilogue to this in my brain.

AITA for being “obsessed” with my childhood nemesis? by rainstormradish M, 4.2k

Oh my god. I have been WAITING to talk about this. One of the funniest fics Ive read in a very long time. As a lurker on reddit, every little detail just sent me into fits of giggles. Kicking my legs, squealing. Could not recommend this more. For some reason, I cant actually tag the author here? But, their tumblr in the same as their ao3 name.

The Tune Without the Words by @teledild0nix G, 2k

I read this for the first time a while ago, and it is just so soft. A lovely little birdie and his lovely little ex-boyfriend. I just reread it while writing this rec to make sure I’m remembering it correctly, and I’m a bit tipsy so it nearly brought me to tears. Pls read.

Have a lovely December!!

xx, Moon

[kindlyre]

thinking more v3 thoughts. it wouldve been REALLY interesting if kaede didnt die in trial 1 and lived so she and shuichi could be foils to kokichi and rantaro, which would be interesting bc the main character always has a partner, but the rival never has. and the difference in ideology could split the group, but as it stands now the v3 cast treats kokichi worse than tbe sdr2 cast treated komaeda, and komadea was a THREAT since the beginning. for the most part, all kokichi did was lie a lot and be rude, so this animosity kind of feels undeserved. like, hajime had a lot more patience for komaeda's shit than shuchi does for kokichi's. so his interactions w the rest of the v3s seems kind of... underhanded and rude. they accepted an assassin into their group but not him, is all im saying.

and it just feels kind of undeserved until chapter 4 where kokichi goes off the deep end. like, before that, he DOES talk about liking the killing game and all, and is insensetive, but he by his own admission a LIAR- why do all the v3s assume the bad things he says are the truth? hell in chapter 2 he spells out MULTIPLE TIMES what his end goal is and what he's doing (trying to caution people from overtly working together because when they do, monokuma punishes them for it, so they shouldnt let on that theyre cooperating) and no one listens?? at all. like its just so blatant because ive been playing sdr2 and v3 side by side, alternating between the two frequently. try it-! the dissonance between how the v3 cast treats kokichi and the sdr2 cast treats komadea is VERY apparent. like sure they tie him up and arent NICEYS to him, but hajime makes a genuine effort to try and understand komaeda, especially in FTEs. shuichi does not extend that same effort to kokichi and imho thats really lackluster writing for the ultimate detective

it just seems like they were going for an ideology clash in v3 but in practice, kokichi is ostracized VERY early on for the crime of Being Annoying, and because of that is placed under a lot of undue scrutiny, with absolutely no one bothering to TRY to understand him. and this happens because he has no genuine foil for his ideology, so theres no ideological conflict, so the writers had to manufacture one by having everyone focus on his (largely just mischevious and at worst annoying) lies and repeat "but all lies are bad!!" unfixingly w/o trying to understand him. which is not really an ideological conflict, it's... kind of childish and they- esp shuichi as the ultimate DETECTIVE- never try to understand kokichi's pov and don't interact with kokichi's TRUE ideological opposition- that they can't trust each other. and kaede and him couldve been great foils in that regard, having the opposite ideological approach to the killing game, but kaede was fridged early on for a male character's development. so thats fine too i guess.

and shuichi and rantaro couldve been foils as well, both leaning hard into detective work but having opposite ideas on what to do with their respective findings- do they trust the group, or not?

also this is just a "hey this would be imo cool" aside, but if it was a kokichi/rantaro pairup.... IMAGINE THE 4TH TRIAL. imagine if it was ambiguous if rantaro was manipulated into killing miu or if it was a willing sacrifice. rantaro doesn't remember, but he admits before execution that, knowing himself, he feels like it was a willing sacrifice on his end, while kokichi insists he manipulated rantaro into it and that he's the true blackened. and we cant see rantaro's memories, so we don't know. and it could be a really tragic trial a la peko's, which would finally allow the cast to know more about rantaro and his true feelings on everyone and the game, in his final moments.

also the sting of the ultimate survivor reveal being so so close by, the tragedy of rantaro surviving a DIFFERENT KILLING GAME only to die in this one, so close to the end... and the implication that he survived his last game by being detached and secretive, only to die because of a connection he had with someone. but thats less meta analysis and more me going "goddamn wouldnt that be fucked up or what. anyway im tumblr user kinderlie"

[steelycunt]

hiiiii…. do you have any book recommendations? i think we have similar taste :)

hi! yeah! i definitely have some recs, although they’ll all be books i’ve talked about on here before so they probably won’t be very new for anyone who’s been following me for a while 😭 not sure what you’re after specifically but this is just everything i’ve enjoyed! anything with as asterisk is a special favourite : ^ )

books ive read this year:

(fiction)

boulder* - eva baltasar: very short read but baltasar’s prose is 2 die for! second in a trilogy but im pretty sure they can all be read as standalones. also nice to see fiction that treats lesbians as seriously as piles and piles of arty litfic treat gay men rather than the clipart cover of two women with a title like ‘Jemima Mulligan Is So Done 🤣’ that comes up when you search lesbian fiction now.

all quiet on the western front* (+ the way back/the road back) - erich maria remarque: only classic im going to mention (i could talk about james baldwin all day) but this is my favourite book i’ve read this year! and my only five star fiction read so far this year. absolutely heartbreaking!! and if you enjoy it i would say it’s worth reading the sequel, the way back.

hangman - maya binyam: read this recently and honestly think it’s quite a marmite book i think you’ll either enjoy the absurdity of it or find it deeply irritating almost straight away but. i thought it was wonderfully disorientating + not too long that the style started to grate on me + an great postcolonial work

we need to talk about kevin* - lionel shriver: such a terrifyingly good book omg. prose is a bit dense which at least i found a bit daunting at first but it’s soo intricate and absorbing and horrific.

penance* (+ boy parts) - eliza clark: was honestly a bit surprised to like this as much as i did my expectations were pretty low but i thought it was a genuinely excellent depiction of modern teenagers + the way they use social media (i have never seen it done so well) + the intricacies of the dynamics between young girls against the backdrop of ‘true’ crime. if you like it you’ll probably also enjoy boy parts so i recommend that too!

antarctica + walk the blue fields - claire keegan: keegan is imo one of the best storytellers writing today and these two short story collections by her were wonderful this year! my favourite of her work is foster but since there are multiple stories in these collections id say they’re the best place to start!

my work - olga ravn: quite experimental in terms of style there’s a lot of prose spliced with prose which i wasn’t sure would be for me (im an idiot) but i thought it was a really fascinating look at motherhood + creation + post-partum depression!

(non-fiction)

dont actually have a ton of non-fiction books 2 mention just adding this category in to recommend empire of pain* - patrick radden keefe as a book i finished recently and one of if not the best non-fiction book ive ever read. just so incredibly interesting i can’t stress enough

some quickfire books i read last year/year before!

duck feet - ely percy

juno loves legs - karl geary

archive of alternate endings* - lindsey drager

shuggie bain* + young mungo* - douglas stuart

my brilliant friend* - elena ferrante

the secret history + the goldfinch - donna tartt

mr loverman - bernadine evaristo (SAINT LUCIA MENTIONED 🇱🇨)

the marriage portrait - maggie o’farrell

the passion - jeanette winterson

[sunflowersbones]

The Hand That Feeds - IV

Warnings: This fic will contain eventual NON-CON, DUB-CON, abuse of power, violence, emotional manipulation, alluded to Mafia!Bucky. My warnings are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.

18+ only. This is a dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary : Your best friend’s and yours entire lives have revolved around violence, death, greed and fear. You’ve always had each other and took comfort in the fact that none of this was your doing; you never had a choice. But what happens when time winds its roots around you, such that even when given the opportunity to leave, he neither leaves nor lets you leave. {mafia au}

DIVIDERS: @firefly-graphics

~

You finish emptying your closet, as you get startled by your door bursting open, you’re surprised to see him here; but the anger in his eyes doesn’t surprise you.

“How’d you even get in?”

“Your mom let me in.”

“I thought she was out?”

“I caught her on her way out; she’s probably deciding to prioritise her friends now, considering her daughter decided that she wants to leave everybody,” he grits out. You heave a deep sigh at that.

“Seriously? You’re going to leave, just like that, just because of some guy and his incessant antics?”

“This isn’t because of Zemo.”

“Then why!?”

“Zemo just made me accept something I’ve always known.”

“And what’s that?”

“That death and violence will always be a part of this life, Bucky.”

“You’re scared you’ll end up like your dad.”

“Yes,” you breathe out, “our families are indulging in crime, Bucky; no matter how much they sugarcoat it, that is the truth.”

“Eventually you’ll have to bear the brunt of it; eventually you’ll have blood on your hands.”

“So let's just leave.” Your voice strains in pain, your distress seems evident, yet he says nothing. His eyes bore into you, with a look you can’t describe; his jaw clenched tight. There’s something about the way he’s staring at you that makes you almost uncomfortable.

“And what makes you think that I haven’t?” he says, barely a whisper, but you hear him anyway.

“What?”

“What makes you think that I don’t know what I’m doing?” He stands up and walks over to you. “What makes you think that I haven’t had blood on my hands yet?”

The entire air around you is still. Silence with Bucky has never made you feel this uncomfortable or unbearable.

“Never mind,” he sighs, breaking the trance.

“No, wait—what did you—when?”

All of a sudden, you feel Bucky’s entire weight on you. As your back hits the wall, one of his hand is on the back of your neck as he kisses you.

You’re unable to move; the firmness of his hands makes you whimper as he deepens the kiss; he bites your lower lip and tugs on to it as he stops to catch his breath; the only reason that your standing still is due to his hold on you.

You feel your breath hitch as he drags his hand down; underneath you skirt, you feel his fingers graze you through your underwear as his thumb toys with your clit. Your finger nails digs into his shoulder as you try to compose yourself. You feel your entire body heat up, is it anger?, frustration?, arousal…? you don’t know.

His mouth latches on to yours again and you feel his tongue glide along with yours and before you know it, he parts your underwear and slides two of his fingers into you.

You feel yourself getting wet as his fingers massage the insides of your wall, your toes curl as you feel the pleasure riling in; now, more annoyed at yourself, you smack his shoulder as you hiss, “Bucky stop it.”

“Marry me.” he whispers as his glazed eyes stare back at you.

This time you actually feel the wind getting knocked out of you. You’re unable to say anything except whimper as he increases his pace.

“I love you and I know you love me. You don’t want to leave, you’re just scared, so lets get married. It’ll put your mind at ease.”

You feel your legs shake as your stomach tightens and your core clenches as you feel your self come undone around his fingers.

You stare at him through your heavy haze and the blues of his eyes don’t seem so beautiful anymore. He leans in to give you a small peck on your lips, he sighs into it as he says “you’re not leaving; ok.”

You have to leave; you’ve made up your mind; everything that’s happened has made you more determined. Yet you feel despair creeping through you when your taxi gets stopped by a familiar black car on your way to the airport. However, you’re relieved when you see Steve walk up to you and not Bucky.

The ice in your coffee has completely melted, and he’s yet to say anything; the awkward tension hangs high in the air.

“I don’t have much time, Steve.”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you leaving all of us?, especially Bucky. You really think you’ll be happy all alone?”

Your eyes widen at the mention of Bucky. “Does Bucky know?”

“About you leaving today?, no.”

“But he’s been losing his goddamn mind because you refused to answer his calls for the past 3 days; how do you expect him to go on without you?”

“How did you even know?”

“That’s not important; the important question is, why are you sneaking out? Why are you leaving all of a sudden without telling any of your friends?”

“What about Nat, huh? How do you think she’ll feel when she finds out; you ever think about that?.”

“Bucky told me about how you feel, about everything.”

“What!” You whispered alarmed.

“I know that you're scared; you’re allowed to be. But running away isn’t going to solve anything.”

You feel the annoyance bubble up. “Oh yeah! What else did he tell you? Did he tell you that he’s an asshole?Did he tell you that he’s decided that he gets to choose what happens in my life and when it happens? Did he tell you that he hurt me!?”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to.”

His deprecating tone doesn’t surprise you. You feel your eyes tingle; you knew this would happen—that he wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t even try to. None of them will; Bucky was the only one you had a little hope in; and that got shattered into pieces. This is exactly why you decided to leave without telling anyone.

“You’re always on his side, aren’t you?”

“What no—this isn’t about picking sides.”

“No! It is, and it always will be. The two of you are always a team. I’m the extra; I’m the one outside. Always…”

“God; Y/N, if you look around for once, you’ll see that; that’s not the case at all; we’d never separate you off like that!. Especially Bucky, I don’t know where all of this is coming from.”

“He doesn’t even care for me as a friend!” You cry out.

“Y/N… He cares for you more…, more than anything in this whole world.” He sighs.

His solicitous words almost make you want to believe that he cares, that everything will be fine, and that you can move on with life. Almost… but you know better.

“I’m leaving.” You stand up to walk away when you feel Steve’s hand wrap around your arm. You wince at the strength of his grip.

“I can’t let you leave like this, Y/N. I’m sorry, but— you’ll have to come talk to Bucky at least once. Talk to him; sort it out. Give everybody a proper goodbye and then leave if you want. It’s the least you could do.”

The anger in his voice makes you helpless, and before you can retort back, you find yourself in the backseat of his car.

Steve was always too disciplined for your liking. You always knew that they were a pair and that they’d do anything for each other. You were proud of their loyalty to each other, but now…, you don’t feel that way anymore. A part of you is deeply concerned that even if you told him what had happened, he wouldn’t believe you; he would never choose his best friend over you, and that plunged you to even deeper depths of despair.

~

@scott-loki-barnes @cjand10

[dwter]

hey everyone, so ive had a lot of time at this point to ruminate and have had conversation after conversation about everything going on and i truly and genuinely mean this when i say i think so much of my thinking and immediate reactions were entirely based in fear, anxiety and grief that i didn't give myself the ability to view the situation as it is.

ill say from the beginning ive always chosen to view this in a worst case scenario perspective. not just for myself, but also i think dismissing the victim ESPECIALLY those using anything to dismiss her literally instantly is really icky and so ive always looked at this with the perspective of everything (more or less) being true. now with that in mind--i dont think this entire thing was nearly as black and white as i initially thought it was. im saying it straight to save everyone the time to try and figure out my perspective, but after talking with people and thinking about real life, how people irl would view this and DO view it and other instances of this exact scenario happening both online and in real life: this is truly just not the horrible morally bankrupt incident i thought it was.

i thought a lot about how i wanted to go about explaining my perspective or if i even wanted to bc i really didnt want this to he seen as "dream defense" or align myself with the people who have had that stance since the absolute beginning bc they are srsly insane, but this is more for myself and for anyone who felt like they didnt have a perspective they resonated with throughout all of this. this is one of the first instances where i felt a genuine dissonance between my thoughts and feelings and my friends in the community whose thoughts i have always always valued above anything else, often even my own, especially when i was struggling with feeling conflicted out of fear and grief. i always clung to the people whose opinions i trusted (and still do trust dont get me wrong) because it felt easier than having to sort my guilty and scared conscience into rationality that could possibly oppose the people ive always looked to for guidance in discourse. just that fear on being on the wrong side of history and such. but like i said, this long winded and horribly overserious essay is for me more than anyone else--if not for people who have struggled with the exact same shitty time.

ill say the absolute first thing: it was not grooming. i held this opinion literally the entire time and people calling it grooming are not only using the term wrong but genuinely causing harm to such a serious topic. we are talking about two adults in a relationship with an age difference of four years like holy shit. when the first girl dropped her story, almost everyone came to the conclusion that it just wasnt that serious because he thought she was 18. with the second girl, she was one month from 18 and the dms from before turning such were genuinely the driest conversations in the world that he never initiated or made any notion of pursuing. this isnt to say you cant be icked out--the point of me talking about this isnt to make you suddenly change your views on anything but to try and claim that it was grooming or a crime took place is just wrong and dishonest of everyone. this is such a large part of where my personal dissonance with everyone's takes came from bc the way people were trying to claim that liking an 18 year old as a 22 year old was something akin to literal pedophilia (<- bc people WERE genuinely saying this) made me feel confused but also deeply guilty because i really just did not understand. and now that im less miserable, i can recognize that that confusion wasnt just linked to parasocialism or whatever deep twisted thing i thought was in my soul, it was literally just not the big insane evil everyone made it out to be. again, this isnt to try and say you individually cant be like "i dont like this" or "this is icky to me" or "this was bad judgement on his part" (<- which is my personal view btw) but to pretend it is some strange insane act of an active predator genuinely boggles my mind. i dont want to chalk everything up to being covidbrained but i think its a huge part of where this dissonance to real life comes from because i really do think if most of you sit down with genuinely and utterly normal people, they will not give a fuck about this. ive SEEN people have conversations about this with noemal people irl and have them literally laugh in their face bc of how deeply unserious it is. and again, i want to reenforce that doesnt mean YOU dont have to care, but to act as if this isnt an objectively undeep incident between two people is odd, especially to the degree ive seen.

now i cant just say this and be done so lets talk about the next part that people had an issue with: fan and creator power dynamic. ill also say this very straight: when the stuff came out with both girls i had a much larger issue with the "age gaps" than i did this for so many reasons. ive always, even before all of this, had my own opinions and such about ccs and fans ever having relationships and it usually along the basis of "as long as there is consent and mutuality, i have no real issue." its not strange to me that people want to be with people they like and idealize and vice versa. to keep this as objective as i can with this perspective, i wont get into thoughts that for dream specifically it especially doesnt surprise me in the sense that his past relationship + facing vitriol from every corner of the internet but fans + overall paranoia could have absolutely reenforced the normalcy and reasoning in this judgement call but i digress. i mean just obvious examples of people wanting to get with celebrities, or groupies or even in platonic ways where fans become genuine and actual friends of creators--ccs having relationships with fans was never a big deal to me personally. and since its relevant to mention in this case, ESPECIALLY online ones. im not saying there cant be power imbalances among a fan and a cc/celebrity, but to get like theyre all inherently like that again just makes zero sense to me and never has even before dream. this applies especially online where power dynamics are significantly dampened from what they can be and just i mean logically, dream has been a full blown cc for like a little less than 3 years and only at this level for maybe 1 or 2 without experiencing it in real life too. the idea that he himself would not see an issue with this, especially because it was a mutual exchange of company, is so completely unsurprising. and at its core, there really is no real issue in it of itself. a bad judgement call from dream? yes and ill stand by that since he shouldve been better safe than sorry. morally bankrupt and manipulative? 😭 no, not after really assessing shit rationally. i also want to add that it was a mutual thing. i know people are really trying to tear everything amanda says apart (<- which is incredibly strange btw, especially if that was your instant reaction and you were doing it publicly too), but taking everything shes saying as true, we know that there was a MUTUAL exchange of things of a sexual nature and this wasnt some manipulative one-sided exchange where dream controlled everything and gave nothing in return. this isnt to say that amandas feelings are entirely invalid or anything along those lines, but those feelings stem from miscommunication and not morally bankrupt predatory behaviours. like seeing all of the info and looking at the situation as it is, its very clear dream saw and believed this to be a mutual relationship. i was so confused and scared and panicked seeing words like "groomer", "innocent", "guilty", "predator" and others being thrown around i didnt even want to try viewing it for myself. but now that i have and now that ive talked to others, this entire situation reads as a bad break up more than anything else, not a strange manipulative abuse of power where mutuality is nonexistent.

overall this entire situation was framed so horrifically and i was tearing myself apart so much about feeling confused, it genuinely did not hit me the extent of just how deeply unserious it was until a friend of mine told me how they went out with their normal, most unchronically online friend, told the situation in the most objective way possible, and they literally laughed in their fucking face 😭 i also started thinking about real life instances of this happening like if it was another cc, a random tiktoker, an actor and realizing i literally would not care--and significantly less people who are as up in arms as they are would care too. and that ignores the fact that it was ONLINE, compared to in-person where whatever power dynamic could exist would be amplified by a thousand.

this entire thing is just so entirely subjective and if your personal opinions and values find this all shitty, absolutely no one is going to try and say to feel otherwise, at least not me. but to completely ignore that its just that--personal--values and opinions that determine how you view this, and act as though it is objectively some morally bankrupt, impossible to understand, predatory situation just feels reactionary and disconnected from real life at best and just shitty and even virtue signalling at worst. and also dont get me started on what some of you twisted that charity event in technos memory into because fucking shame on you, but ill make a separate post on that later maybe.

this really isnt meant to be a form of "dream defense" because if i was taught anything this past week it was that the way i connected so much of my own conscience to my ability to defend dream and his pr was and is entirely unhealthy, and it was all a wake up call--just not towards dream. the level of miserable agony i experienced, not even mostly because of what dream did, but because i felt like i couldnt DEFEND it, was dangerously all consuming and i dont want that anymore. its just not a healthy way to engage with any media, the need to constantly justify it in every single instance, and especially not with a cc. i want to be able to just see drama and controversy ride out and not have it feel so utterly all consuming, even if i do choose to comment on it. im making this statement bc like i said, it really sucked to feel like there was no public voice i completely agreed with and i realized that i could do that role if i wanted. and honestly, its just been very cathartic for me to write all of this out after feeling like an echo chamber of other peoples thoughts and my own grief the last week.

this community disappointed me in many ways, both the freaks who jumped on any baseless thread disproving amandas claims, dissected her behaviour, was very strangely dream defensive and chose to do all that shit PUBLICLY too. but also the people who chose to use this as an opportunity to act in the most reactionary strange ways that felt so virtue signal-y it was nauseating. i know the people who held/hold the views i did also dealt with the guilt and fear i did too, and thus no one was willing to so deal with the mortifying ordeal of a) sorting through these thoughts and b) saying them in any kind of public space even with just close friends, but ESP on a public blog. i mean, that was literally me. but it really fucking sucked to have just these two extremely polarizing and extremely isolating opinions be the only available voices 😭 my thoughts are getting very rambley now and i apologize, but i hope my points are getting across.

this is already insanely long, but ill start wrapping up. if you disagree with me, obviously thats fine. like i said, this was never made with the objective to change peoples minds which arguably was what my usual dream discourse essays was meant for sometimes. this was made for me and for this specific perspective to have light for anyone who wants or needs it. all i hope is that if you do come out of this with anything, is some form of awareness. of either real life, your opinions or even just yourself i dont know.

i really did love my time on tumblr so so fucking much. and i loved the people here even more so. i think i owe it all to you guys and just my blog itself to say my thoughts on shit, no matter if any of you agree or not. plus i mean if this flops i surely never have to face the consequences if im leaving anyways so peepoClap. thank you all so much for everything, and if you made it this far, thank you so much for taking the time to read my bullshit. i dont know if after this ill still leave, but regardless, it feels wrong to not make some homage to such an impactful place in my life. impactful people too :)

thank u all for reading again, and good fucking night !

[fisshindasea]

So with the 'Dad of the Year' headcanons with Barou and Rin. Can I request it but you get to pick the characters depending on this. Who'd be...

Overprotective: they're highkey intimidating the shit out of reader's crush and reader themselves. They look pissed off. The interrogation Reader is finna go through is crazy. Reader's siblings are scared for Reader.

Prince "Charming": who is immediately asking questions and even invites reader's crush inside for dinner. They look charming but damnit they're scary. Lowkey intimidating asf.

Sweetheart: this one is basically the "charming" one but they're not intimidating at all, in fact they're super nice and welcoming.

Teaser: the tease is never gonna let reader live this down. In fact, they invite reader's crush in just to fuck with reader. They're not gonna shut up about this and neither are Reader's siblings. Lowkey thought Reader would never find a significant other.

— dads of the century —

- this is a part two of some sorts to the first one.

- this is one of the longest ones ive written. in terms of months because this took so long bc of school.

- also im sorry that kunigami's part is the longest. he was my favorite thats my bad

- has the same premise as the last one basically.

- dad!multiple characters x gn!reader

Overprotective: Kunigami Rensuke

- the kind of dad who isn't exactly strict but he tends to go.. a little overboard?

- like he's completely alright with you going out, shopping, going somewhere with friends. but the catch is you have to update him whenever you guys go somewhere different, your location should always be on, you have to send him pictures or videos as updates if typing might take too long, etc.

- he's only overprotective when he's not there. (obviously) but it really also just depends on what you're doing. if it's a situation you've been in a lot, let's day shopping for books, going to the mall with or without your siblings, if he's able to trust you in these scenarios then he'll hold back a little bit.

- but on times where you're just really far away with friends, or you're hanging out with a group of people he's not completely familiar with, you'll definitely have to comply with his rules and stuff.

- he's only like this because he cares a lot about you and your siblings.

- HOWEVER

- having significant others is a different story. he's a lot stricter with the rules, especially if its like a new person who's been dating you for like half a year.

- his rules tend to be from a scale of "you have to be taken home by 6 pm" to "you can't hold hands because I'm not convinced they wash their hands". it's lowkey ridiculous sometimes but he does try to be less overbearing.

- the scolding when he finds out about your s/o tho is... scarier?

- i don't think he usually notices how scary he can be, but the moment you stepped inside the house he turned on the intimidation factor off the roof.

- he had his arms crossed, the brows were furrowed, he was looking at you like you just committed the most offensive crime possible in human history.

- you got grounded uhm... he wasn't happy. not because you have a s/o, but purely because you kept it from him.

- he acts like he hates your s/o too but genuinely though, he's happy that you've found someone that makes you feel special.

- you're still grounded for a month though, couldn't go on dates until then.

- amidst the strictness, he does genuinely try to get along with your significant other and is content knowing that you have someone to look after you, especially at times where he's too far away to physically look out for you.

Prince Charming: Chigiri Hyoma

- chigiri... isn't exactly like sweet looking per se? but his demeanor is definitely comforting in a way, because of how charming he is.

- so a lot of the time your friends are comfortable in your family especially because of how chigiri's demeanor is. but they do know not to get on his bad side yk.

- the s/o situation is... a big contrast in a sense.

- bc chigiri is still charming, invites them inside to eat yk. asks questions about how they're treating you, and if they promise to take care of you. yk normal stuff.

- unfortunately he's the type to intimidate your partner the moment you turn your back.

- he glares and starts threatening your s/o that if they ever hurt you, he'd be less than impressed and happy after all the promises they've given chigiri about treating you right.

- your s/o is lowkey traumatized bc how does a man, so charming and pretty, also be one of the scariest people they've ever encountered.

- honestly you're not surprised. you've seen your father use his charm for things less than... righteous. (he's used his charm and his pretty face to bargain for prices in the market too many times. it is a must, people)

- all in all though, i see chigiri as the type to take a very long time to adjust to your s/o, and over time, he tries to let loose a little more and slowly understand that someone else is bound to find you worth taking care of just like he does.

Sweetheart: Isagi Yoichi

- man does no wrong. he's on board with your s/o, and is loving the fact that you have someone to take care of you whenever he's away.

- is a genuine sweetheart. i would say that he's the opposite of chigiri where hes the sweet but is actually intimidating type, whereas isagi is the intimidating at first type but is actually just a super sweet dad.

- he's used to a lot of people liking you, and he's upset the moment he finds out that they've hurt you, so he has some trust issues about this s/o.

- this definitely showed the moment he found out you had an s/o you hadn't told him about yet.

- the moment he finds out about your s/o, he's the type to shed a tear. and you don't know how to feel because your dad is... crying??

- he'd tell you that he's happy, and that he wants to meet your s/o as quick as possible.

- he tries to make your s/o feel as welcome as possible, and he makes sure that they know that they're always welcome in the house.

- acts like a second father to your s/o. sometimes you feel like you're the s/o coming to meet the father of the person you love so dearly bc why does this man already call your s/o (son/daughter) the second time they come to the house.

- isagi just adores you both as well, like he takes you both on trips and stuff but sometimes he wishes he wasn't there bc why does he feel like a third wheel everytime.

- does not hesitate to help either of you out for dates. you have a suprise? he's on it, he's hands on, making sure that whatever you're doing doesn't get out to the other person.

Teaser: Meguru Bachira

- dare i say he's the most annoying one out of the four?

- this man finds one detail about your relationship and he acts like over reacting classmates when someone has a crush.

- he does not shut up im so sorry, but he as much as possible vowed that he'll tease you in exchange for the fact that you kept your s/o a secret for a year.

- he also lowkey got your siblings to work with him. ever since your first crush, they've all banded together to find the person you liked and somehow always manages to invite them for dinner?

- but back to the present, when he found out about the s/o he asked very calmly "so how long?"

-"a year.."

- whips his head to look at you, eyes wide, mouth frowning open.

- the definition of D:

- to be fair he had an idea, but he trusted you'd tell him at the right time.

- he did not expect the right time to be one year into the relationship.

- and so, he promises to himself that he'll tease and embarrass you both as often, and as much as he can on a daily basis. mostly you though.

- everyday without fail he teases you about your pet names for each other.

- you could say your s/o's name and he'd pop in from the other room going "don't you mean (insert pet name here)"

- you'd tell him to stfu if he wasn't your father

- so instead, you just respectfully stare at him while he laughs until he stops

- expect it to happen again the same day

- sometimes he even talks about it with his team, and when you met some of his friends they're like "so how's your s/o? do they still call you (pet name here)?"

- because your dad somehow bribed them into joining the teasing.

- but honestly he's happy for you, he just shows his affection for you both that way and he has no qualms about you dating.

- except maybe if he finds you crying about your s/o. let's hope it does not come to that.

[sucker4sixx]

Raising hell

Pt:8

Plot: nikki turns and you see a side to him you thought was only reserved for people be hated

Warnings: fat shaming, body shaming, humiliation, vomit

You wake up still cuddled into nikkis cosy chest while he sleeps, you take the time to watch him, his handsome face showing peace that youve never quite seen him display before, it was a sunny day and you didnt have to play tonight.. it was seemed too good to be true.

Nikki wakes up 10 minutes later, rubbing his large hand over his face “hmm.. morning darlin” he says hoarsely, smiling down at you with a slightly puffy face from sleeping “morning nikki.. how did you sleep?” “Just fine.. just fine..” he sits up and looks around for his clothes, deciding wether or not to shove on his clothes from yesterday.

Once you are both up you decide to go down to breakfast but as soon as nikki sees his band sitting his attitude changes, he distances and straightens up, acting like he doesnt know your there. You sit on a table for two but watch as nikki loudly and ungraciously sits with his band, laughing and talking disruptively. You thought he was going to sit with you but you knew how much he wanted to keep you two on the downlow.

“Hey, whats with the fat chick anyway? What happened?” Vince asks loudly, wanting you to hear, nikki gulping nervously, knowing you could hear. “Just.. you know, tried to see how little her self respect could go and fucked the shame into her” he grins wide “and trust me.. her respect goes low, lower than i thought” your heart sinks completely “whats she like with no clothes on?” Tommy asks excitedly, nikki smiling so he can play off the situation “… fatter” the table laugh loudly and suddenly your plate doesnt look as good as it did so you leave, tears streaming down your face.

On your crying fit up to your hotel room you bump into stu “hey! Ive been meaning to talk to you about it you and nikki-“ “just shut the fuck up stu! No one cares!” You scream in his face, running to your hotel room. You shouldve listened to mel, maybe you were just a stupid little girl. Only an hour later your door was getting knocked and you could hear nikki urgently calling you from the other side.

“Babe.. baby just open the door.. please” you ignore him, thinking he would go away but he just tries the door handle more thinking it will change anything. You swing the door open “i am not your baby!” You point your finger in his face making him step back. “No, dont say that.. let me in we can talk about this” you scoff “about what? You calling me a fat bitch?”

“Babe i didnt call you a fat bitch-“

“you werent far off it!” He grabs your shoulders and forces himself in your room “you have to stop being so god damn sensitive!” He shouts and slams the door. “You are fat! Is it such a crime to point it out?!” He points to your belly, you look down and your size seems to grow by 1000 “im not fat! I only wear size 12!” He crosses his arms over his chest and you begin to cry, why does he care so much? Why is it such a big issue to him? “leave..” he quickly leaves, not wanting to deal with your tears.

When he leaves you hear his friends chuckling quietly in the hall way and noticed he had left a note on the floor, you pick it up and it reads “im sorry, they are behind this” it didnt change much, he still said it all and done it for his friends entertainment.

Two days later its time for the show, you arrive and hide into your dressing room instantly, not wanting anyone to see you. Your dressing room door knocks “hello? Who is it?” “Its nikki baby, i got us some snacks” you scoff “leave. Im not your baby.” He goes silent for a few seconds before you hear footsteps leaving your door. When it gets to your band preforming your not as energetic as usual and when it gets to snake eyed love you go to the side of the stage, nikki waiting beside your manager, you turn off the mic.

“Stu i dont wanna do the lap dance, im skipping it” stu shakes his head and nikki looks confused “no, you will do it. Your costing me money are you crazy?!” The wide man starts to get defensive and angry. “Nikki cmon” you dont even look at him, strutting back on stage with him.

“Hello!” You say to the crowd, smiling “so.. my friend nikki has been a very bad boy recently, very bad and i dont think he deserves the dance.. but, my manager told me to do it for the money so fuck it right?” The crowds cheering dies down alittle, its obvious your upset “sit.” You glare at nikki as he sits down, you park your ass right on his lap “lets hope i dont break your legs by being too fat” you whisper in his ear “right, start the music” you say into the mic, flipping round so your already facing nikki, grinding on him while gripping his hair with one hand. He frowns as he watches you knowing how much you hate him right now.

Once the song gets to the solo you move into nikkis ear “this is the last time this will happen.. i want nothing to do with you from now on” he shakes his head “no.. please dont say that” “i mean it.” You move back and his eyes are glassy as you continue to sing, his hands gripping and feeling your body to savour it once more.

When the song ends the crowd go crazy, you bow and leave the stage, ignoring stu as he screamed at you, mel trying to pull you aside, and nikki wanting to “talk things out” .You just keep walking faster and faster untill you clock back in and your alone, outside a night club. You walk in and within the next hour your feeling pretty drunk, shots and whiskey your go to.

Three hours later your drunkly stumbling around the hotel and get to your room, you look to nikkis room and decide “fuck it”

“Hello?” He opens the door sleepily, when he sees you his eyes wide “baby? Whats happened?” You scoff and stumble alittle “i wanted.. t-to.. tell you that..” you breathe heavily as you try to stay still, nikki helping you by holding your shoulders “y.. your mean.. and… “ you boak, needing to be sick. Nikki quickly runs you to his bathroom and ties your hair back “hey its okay..” he pats your back. “S-s.. stop.. being, so nice-“ you throw up in the toilet “where were you?” He asks, rubbing your back as you throw up “i-i.. dont know”

30 minutes later your no longer being sick and nikki washes your face and gives you water before helping you to his bed “n-no.. i wanna go.. to my room” your eyes flutter shut “no baby.. i need to keep an eye on you” he kisses your forehead and strokes your belly “am i really fat?” You begin to cry “no.. your curvy and i love your body i swear.. im so sorry” he turns his face away as if hes crying but your eyes are too heavy to stay up, falling asleep fast.