#Idk if anyone will even read the tags but to be clear this isn’t hating on Amelia either btw because he was a woman in deep grief & mourning

[qkmlh]

On a superficial level, I get Amelia because Sam Winchester?? Very very pretty with certain attributes that make him an appealing man. That being said. That same man also has soooo many blaring red flags that do NOT make it worth it from a long term, especially romantic, partnership stand point.

That is to say, I did indeed judge her choice in choosing to go to the motel to meet Sam and it’s this feeling of oh. Honey. You can do so much better please you are the Other in his questionable everything with his brother and y’know, you’ve seen, what his brother meant to him because he understood you as a widow on a mourning and bleeding heart level. Please. He deadass packed his bag and left you with the dog without even saying goodbye. (Did he even tell you what it was?? The Something that wasn’t even fully about your own husband coming back, the Something Else that was even more the reason he left??)

You think about him all the time GIRL HE WAS RUNNING!!! HE WAS RUNNJNG JUST LIKE YOU!!!! TWO WAR WIDOWS FINDING SOLACE IN UNDERSTANDING AND CARNAL ATTRACTION!!!! SURE IT WAS LOVE BUT BESTIE GIRLIE SWEETIE I’M SO SORRY THAT LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH THAT LOVE IS ONLY A FRACTION TO THE PSYCHOTIC IRRATIONAL EROTIC CODEPENDENCE

[rexxdjarin]

(I’m not the anon who sent you hate about Mari!)

I really do mean this in the nicest way possible. This is not intended to insult or belittle you or your writing style at all. I just want to maybe help clear up what some people might find “problematic” about Mari (but the hate anon obviously did a poor job of voicing their complaints because it was very destructive criticism rather than constructive criticism).

I think the misconceptions about Mari stem from the fact that the majority of scenes in both Captain’s Log and Unwritten (I have read both many times) are just smut and lack a true emotional connection between Rex and Mari beyond being physical. That gives off the vibe that their relationship is only rooted in sex and that it’s the only saving grace of the relationship. Sex and love can be mutually exclusive. I understand wanting to write a sexually-liberated female character, because society severely represses women of their sexuality, but sometimes I feel like Rex and Mari are only together because of their physical attraction to one another. Additionally, there is major emphasis on Mari’s beauty from every single character (other than Rex): Shaeeah Lawquane, Omega, Wrecker, Gregor, Echo, Fives, Wolffe...the list goes on. None of her other personality traits are really complimented, just her looks. That might be problematic to some people because it fails to look at Mari as a whole person. Expanding on her intelligence, empathy, and fearlessness in both stories might help counterbalance her seductive nature while not discounting it.

Also, you reblog posts that include details about Rex and Mari’s relationship in the tags, and that’s the only tell about how Mari helps the clones. The audience doesn’t see that in the actual stories because there’s no explicit subplot that shows Mari helping Padmé in the Senate during the Clone Wars. So for those who only read the story, they wouldn’t know Mari’s political background with Padmé, other than an offhand mention of it.

Again, this is no hate toward you. I’m just trying to help elucidate the arguments against Mari. You’re an amazing writer and I admire you so much for your dedication and passion for your stories! I sincerely hope this doesn’t hurt your feelings because that isn’t what I intended at all. I’m open to hearing what your response to these claims, in case I missed something in both stories; you’re the expert!

I don’t even know what to say to any of this. Because despite literally every single thing I’ve put into this story, as much emotion as I can possibly put into the subject matter, I still have people saying and believing this.

Like first of all, Unwritten isn’t finished. I am only 3 chapters in. I have not gotten to explain any of the times she has done things and will do to help the clones politically socially etc. I literally haven’t written them yet.

Captain’s Log started as a reader, so a lot of the things I attribute to Mari weren’t initially in that story because it didn’t start out as being an OC story.

At the end of the day, I feel like I’ve put so many conversations and situations between the two of them that are so much bigger than just sexual stuff.

I’m just writing my stories the best way I can. To sit here and try this hard to dissect my characters and my story is incredibly hurtful. We’re all just here writing stories for fun on the internet. I feel like lately people on here are trying so hard to make me feel like I’m not allowed to do that.

I haven’t written or published anything in so long. I have had a miserable and extremely difficult year as it is which has made writing the stories I love basically impossible. I was really excited to try to get back to my stories. Receiving messages like this from you and others really doesn’t make me want to continue.

“I hope this doesn’t hurt your feelings” while simultaneously calling for me to somehow defend my response to these claims….like wow. Idk how anyone would take this any other way but to be really hurt by it.

So thanks for this. Really made me feel awesome.

[blueprint-han]

[Image ID: A black picture with the title “HOW TO SUPPORT FANFICTION AUTHORS” written in bold caps lock, colored with a winter forest picture. End ID.]

Well, this post has been made countless times, but I’m making one too because I’ve seen a lot of people say they’re new to tumblr and don’t know the whole “reblogging is better than liking” rule and other stuff. So without any further ado, here are ways YOU can support the fanfiction authors. Now keep in mind this applies to almost every author out there, not just the stayblr fandom, so if you’re a silent reader (or even if you aren’t), I advise you go through this post. Warning, this is a fairly long post going into detail, so yeah. I still expect you, the readers to read this, and if you’re a writer, feel free to lmk if i’ve written smth wrong or if you want me to add something! ^^

In this post I’ll go into thorough analysis of the pros and cons of each of the methods listed here and how YOU as a reader can show the authors whose fics you read more love and motivate them to produce content.

WARNING; LONG POST! GOES INTO A DECENT AMOUNT OF DETAIL. NOT EDITED, EXCUSE ANY TYPOS.

#1 : LIKING !

I think this is basic common knowledge, and a lot of people tend to do this. When you like the post, the author sees it, you see it, and if the author has their liked posts accessible (which majority of the time they don’t), and if someone deliberately goes to check it, then they see it. See why so many authors say just liking does nothing? Only liking says “Hey, I’m gonna tell you your story is not that good by simply liking it and not sharing it with other people. :D”

♯ PROS:

You’re telling the author that you've read their fic, and either you’ve enjoyed it to a certain extent, or you’re just saving it to read for later.

Likes are seen by you, the author and anyone who has access to your likes (which, most people don’t).

♯ CONS:

If you ONLY like, you’re not really helping the author’s work reach a wide audience because this site isn’t Instagram. Reblogging is the only way people can SEE our works. I’ll cover more on that in the next section.

In a nutshell, liking is good! But you should most likely use it in a combination with the other stuff I’ve listed below, because just the like itself doesn’t really do much in giving the author any feedback or interaction on their fics.

To clear shit up; I’m not talking about those people who don’t read the story or appreciate it in the first place. I’m talking about those who appreciate the fic, like it, but don’t leave any sort of feedback to show that.

#2 : REBLOGGING !

This is SO, SO important. I cannot stress on this enough. Let me explain WHY so many writers stress on reblogging content: 

Tumblr’s tag system is inherently fucked up, and has grown more so over the year. I’m not kidding, at first, the fic either used to show up in the tags or it didn’t, but now, sometimes your fic can be REMOVED from the tags because of,,, idk tumblr tag shit. Anyways, as you can see, it’s very demotivating for authors at that point, because the major way for people to find their content and expand their blogs has been blocked.  

Due to this reason, tumblr authors need to RELY on you, their followers to help spread their works to a wider audience. Now again, before you get me wrong, I’m not saying you ae forced to rb our works regardless of whether you like them or not. BUT, that being said, if you DO infact like the story, there’s no harm in reblogging, right? By doing this you’re indirectly telling the author — “hey! :D I liked your fic! Which is why I am gonna share it to my followers so they can read it too :D” Trust me, you’re doing nothing but helping the people who produce content for you to read. Seems like a worthy cause to hit the reblog button, right? It’s only a one, or maximum two step procedure.

Leave tags in your reblogs! Trust me, as an author myself and as much as I know from all my author friends, we oft check the tags of your reblogs to see if you found any part amazing or even if you have anything to say about the writing we put so much hard work into. Even a key smash or a “This was so [insert adjective] 🥺” is enough to leave a smile on your authors face. 

♯ PROS :

You’re !! Sharing !! Your authors !! Works !! This leads to them getting more recognition, so for the content they’re so graciously providing for free, you’re promoting their blog and helping them expand it.

If the tags are being a shit, which majority of the time they are, then you’re literally making an author’s day by reblogging! You’re showing them that you, a follower and appreciator of their works are willingly sharing their content because it deserves to be seen by more people. Again before any dumb people decide to attack me, i am talking about people who like the fic but don't bother reblogging and are silent/ghost readers. I am not forcing anyone to read anybody’s work.

YOU’RE MAKING YOUR AUTHOR SO HAPPY WHAT MORE REASONS COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT !! 🥺

♯ CONS :

Literally none, because as far as I remember no author is against reblogging of their works. It’s quite literally the way this platform functions. Reblogging is IMPORTANT.

#3 : COMMENTING/SENDING FEEDBACK !

This kind of overlaps with the previous section, but THIS IS SUCH AN IMPORTANT STEP !! When you leave feedback, you are directly giving the author something so much more valuable to them than high follower/note counts or money. Your feedback is literally our serotonin. I kid you not the number of times I’ve received a positive comment and smiled and it has made my day. There’s a reason youtubers (though not the best example, bear with me here because it was the only one I could think of) ask people to subscribe, like and COMMENT. The subscription is like a follow, the like is ofc like a heart, and the comment is equivalent to an rb with comments in the tags. 

You might argue and tell me that a comment is basically like an ask so the reblogging step isn’t necessary, but I’m sure 99% of you use YouTube and you know that more comments leads to people’s videos boosted in the stream/trending charts. This is what reblogging does. Reblogging shares the piece with other people like minded, which leads to a boost in reads. You are literally helping your author grow.

It’s quite literally the same thing as youtubers. Youtubers NEED validation to keep their content creation going, so do writers, so do other ccs on this site. This post is however, focused on WRITERS, so keep that in mind.

♯ PROS :

By doing this, you’re giving author valuable feedback! It’s similar to what you do in rbing with tags. Interactivity with their fics boosts their note counts and helps expand their audience, so srsly, now think of it: your one comment is playing such a massive role to help ccs create more content.

Imagine how much of a difference the note counts will be in when every person who simply likes after reading the fic, reblogs, leaves a comment and sends an ask. the note counts would be high on each and every fic, which is validation in itself, but your comments would inspire the writer so much more! Please, don’t skip the commenting part. Even a simple one like: “this is so cute!” is wonderful. 

♯ CONS :

Remember, if you’re gonna give constructive criticism (which I’m sure you all are smart enough to know if different from hate), make sure the author is okay with it. Authors need to be in a specific mindset and must be ready to accept criticism, so if you’re gonna give constructive criticism to them when they’re at a low point, it may demotivate them.

Just commenting, instead of reblogging and commenting in the tags/ reblogging and then leaving an ask in their inbox, while it gives validation in plenty, will not lead to the author’s work being spread. Therefore I suggest either reblogging and commenting in the tags or reblog and then leave an ask, or comment under the fic!

!! reminder; I am not saying that if you don’t rb and just leave feedback, your feedback has no value. We authors truly appreciate every bit of feedback, but this post is aimed to help you learn how to interact with and support authors, and make them feel more motivated, because the current scenario of liking and scrolling is taking a toll on their creative abilities. Take it from a person who’s been writing for a year.

#4 : COMMSIONING VIA THEIR KO-FI/OTHER APPS !

Before any of you attack me, let me tell you that this is not a step that is 100% necessary to do. ONLY donate if you can and if you genuinely want to, and if anyone is forcing you to pay for something against your will, you need to get yourself out of there.

Regardless, if an author has a kofi and you’re able to and you want to donate, you definitely should! It’s also a valid form of support.

#5 : ADDING THEM ON REC LISTS/ RECOMMENDING THEM TO REC BLOGS

This is such an underrated option, to be honest. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen my fic was recommended onto some rec list and it’s made me smile so hard. If you like some fics, create a rec list! They’re oft very popular amongst the fans too. Making rec posts is such a great way to share your favorite stories with others. 

Rec blogs! I’ve seen a couple going around, and needless to say they are a great way to get someone else to read your favorite author’s work whilst also giving them your own feedback. These blogs oft accept recs via a form or ask box, and they leave your feedback along with their own, or else they’ll oft tag the author in the feedback post, so look! You’re basically helping your author share their fic to many more people, because you’ve given them feedback and a reblog.

♯ PROS :

Validation! Feedback! Reblogs! More exposure! Helping a blog grow! Spreading love! basically a run down of the stuff I’ve said before!

♯ CONS :

Literally no con of this. Unless, a one in a million case, this author says they don’t like receiving feedback/being tagged, and I’m sure NO person has said this before, at least none that I’ve heard of.

#6 : FINAL COMMENTS; MISC !

When an author points out about how the interactivity is drastically reducing, don’t just give them blind apologies. Yes, you feel sorry for not interacting as much, we understand, but rather show that you’ll become a better content consumer through your actions. We need to see that we’re not just throwing words into a void and that people are actually trying to be better content consumers. 

Understand the fact that authors don’t get paid for this, and 99% of the time, these authors don’t take commissions either. They’re giving you novel worthy writings for free. Take Percy Jackson: You think the author would have felt motivated to write the subsequent parts, let alone two whole series based off of it if literally no one showed that they were interested? Rick Riordan has sales, he is being paid, there are millions of people and big agencies who provide him feedback. Now take that huge amount and simmer it down to an audience of maybe 10000 people This is what fanfic authors want. They don’t want your money, nor are they telling you to risk your lives for them. All they want is, a reblog, some tags, some feedback, some INTERACTIVITY.  A sign that they aren’t throwing fics into the void and that people actually like them, some motivation to continue. Seems fairly easy to throw an rb with some tags, right?

Don’t bother to tell me that we do this for ourselves and we shouldn’t ask for likes and reblogs and feedback, because 1) you are consuming the content that we “write for ourselves” and 2) writers post their content here for interactivity and feedback. We could just not post and write and save our fics in our dungeon drafts for years. But we choose to post to entertain the readers, the consumers. And we aren’t even asking that much in return.

Don’t give me the whole “I’m scared that authors feel that comments are annoying” excuse either because seriously this has been DEBUNKED SO MANY TIMES. Istg, in the nicest way possible, if you still think writers are annoyed by interaction and feedback, after so many posts, long rants have been posted as to how we’re not, then you must truly be living under a rock. There, I said it. Please stop thinking this way, I’ll say it again, AUTHORS ARE NOT ANNOYED OF FEEDBACK, COMMENTS, TAGS, REBLOGS. WE LOVE IT. Saying this is like saying that the audience in a theatre play shouldn’t clap when the play ends because the actors would find it noisy. 🤡

I’ve seen some people saying they have anxiety issues and such, so pls note that I’m not invalidating your condition. If you’re trying to be more interactive, I really appreciate it! If you can’t, that’s fine too. You’re trying.

But for the people who have no reason other than feeling lazy to rb and comment, your lack of interactiveness is not excused. Please. Tumblr is a reblogging site. If you’re gonna consume content like authors are some sort of machines, I encourage you to go get some more perspective.

This site is not Instagram or the satan bird app. Your likes are appreciated but frankly speaking, they do nothing to the author except tell them “Hey i read ur fic but i'm not gonna support u :D” and honestly, that is detrimental to their creative capabilities and mental health. 

DON’T FOLLOW AN ACC JUST TO MINDLESS RB THEIR SIGNAL BOOST POSTS AND THEIR REBLOGS OF GIFS AND NOT INTERACT WITH THEIR WRITING AT ALL ! Trust me, authors prefer a lower amount of interactive followers than a high count that doesn’t even give them any feedback. Again your follows are appreciated, but when you’re following, you know the type of content the author creates, so the author expects that the more followers, the more interactivity. These days, this is just becoming the opposite. So don’t do it! If you’re gonna follow to read, interact with their works. I promise, this will make both you and the author happy. A win-win situation.

In conclusion: SUPPORT YOUR FUCKING AUTHORS! THEY ARE NOT MACHINES THAT HAVE NO FEELINGS TO PRODUCE CONTENT FOR YOU! FICS TAKE DAYS AND DAYS OF PLANNING, PLOTTING, OUTLINING, WRITING, EDITING, MAKING TEASERS. SO JUST SHOW THEM YOU APPRECIATE THEM WITH AN RB. IT’S THE L E A S T YOU CAN DO.

I will be liking this post here written by the lovely @chaninfused​ and @scriptura-delirus​ . Please take time to read it because if you weren’t convinced by my arguments, you will see how much frustration we as writers face on a daily basis. Please, just show support. Here is the post by @stayndays​ about how to get more people to read your work, because it also has a note on reblogging. Please educate yourself, and put an end to this mindless consuming culutre and bring up some interactivity.

If you’ve read this far, I want you to go to two of your favorite authors and leave some feedback in their inbox, and tag me in it (either tag me yourself or ask the author to do so, they won’t mind). Show your writers that our words are taking effect and you are becoming better consumers. I mean it. I’m serious. I want every single one who reads this post to do this. besides valid reasons, if you’re lazy to do this, you’re a part of the problem. PLEASE get more perspective.

Also, feel free to add to this post! I’d love to read your thoughts too, remember to be kind though. And, if I think your rb is somehow contradicting my points and is bringing down the reason I made this post, I will politely ask you to delete your comment, because this post is about being truthful about the harsh reality of tumblr consumers and how we can change it. I’m sure none of you will let it get to that point, though. <3 love you guys. 💓

And, just a reminder, don’t just blindly like this too. Do what I said before, and while I am not forcing you, I’d appreciate your reblog, because seriously, it took me 3 whole days to write this, plus, I’m sure this will help more of your followers understand the fault in consumer culture. haha, that’s it! This post was way too long uff.

also, this is ur cue to not be stupid in my inbox. You have something to say? Think I worded smth wrongly? I’m sure it wasn’t my intention to do so, point it out with manners. 

[drabbles-mc]

Pick Up The Pieces

Opie Wintson x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Opie being gutted when he finds out Lyla doesn't want more kids, cheats on her with his best friend who actually turns up preggo. I feel like it could be a angst, smut, fluff combo. Idk thank you!

Warnings: language, angst, cheating, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, pregnancy, (this really really has it all my friends)

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: While it is usually against my moral code to inflict pain on my lumberjack husband, I got pretty into this. I hope this is what you had in mind! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X) ​

SOA Taglist: @garbinge​ @chibsytelford​ @mayans-sauce​ @adela-topaz-caelon​ @masterlistforimagines​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @kkim120​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @toni9​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @shadow-of-wonder​ (If you want to be tagged just let me know! xo)

You heard the knock at the door and you instantly became confused. It was late on a Friday night and your place wasn’t exactly known for being a party spot. Case in point, you were bundled up in a fluffy bathrobe with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine while watching He’s Just Not That Into You for the millionth time. You tightened the belt of your robe as you stood up and made your way to the door.

Looking through the peephole, you see Opie standing on the other side of your door. It was too dark to get a good look at his expression, but if he was showing up by himself on a Friday night you had to assume that he wasn’t in the best of shape.

Unlocking the door, you opened it and greeted him with a soft smile, “Hey, Ope.”

He didn’t even have it in him to muster a smile, “Hey. Sorry to just show up like this.”

You shook your head as you gestured for him to come inside, “No need to apologize. My door is always open for you,” you shut and locked it once he came inside, “What’s going on?”

Opie towered over everyone, yourself included, but he looked so small as he stood in the middle of your living room. His head hung low, his shoulders slumped, and you could see the defeated look on his face. You stepped in and hugged him, pressing yourself tight against his chest. His arms looped tight around you and rested the side of his head against yours. You felt his chest rise and fall slowly as he took one deep breath after another, trying to keep it together.

“You can talk to me, you know,” you stayed leaning against him, “Did something happen?”

There were a million different things that it could be. The club had been a mess lately, you knew that things with him and Lyla had been rocky, and then there was the hot mess express that was his family. There were a lot of different things to choose from, you just wondered what had him in such a hurt place.

“Shit with Lyla,” he mumbled against your hair.

You sighed quietly, disappointed but not surprised. You had no problem with Lyla—she seemed like a sweet woman. She was a good friend to the club and she was good with her kid and Opie’s. But you always had the feeling that Opie was trying to fit a square peg into a round hole with her. He wanted things to work but he also wanted her to change, which wasn’t fair to either of them.

“What happened?”

“She doesn’t want kids. Never bothered to fuckin’ mention it,” he shook his head, “Lied about being on birth control.”

You couldn’t hide your surprise. Usually, women who hooked up with the guys lied about being on birth control meaning they said they were on it when they weren’t, not the other way around. But it really shouldn’t have surprised Opie, especially given Lyla’s line of work.

“I’m sorry,” you told him.

He shook his head, “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. You told me from the jump that it wasn’t going to work.”

You pulled back from him, “That’s not what I said. I said it was going to take some work.”

His laugh was hollow, “Right.”

You let your arms drop back to your sides, “Take your boots off, stay awhile. I’m only like twenty minutes into my movie if you wanna join me.”

He looked at the screen and instantly knew what you were watching, which he hated admitting, “You never get tired of this one, huh?”

You shook your head, “Nope,” you walked to the kitchen and grabbed a second wine glass, “I don’t have any beer. Wine alright?”

He chuckled and nodded, “I’ll take whatever you got.”

You walked back over to the couch and sat down next to him, handing over the glass as you did. He picked the bottle up off the coffee table and poured himself a generous glass, immediately taking a long drink out of it. You were so used to seeing Opie with either a beer bottle or a shot glass in his hand that it was a bit of an amusing switch-up to see him sipping on Moscato.

“You wanna talk about it?” you’d been friends with Opie long enough to know that sometimes he just needed to brood about things for a bit before having a discussion about them. You still always offered the option, though.

He shook his head, “No.”

“Wanna watch Justin Long get his world turned upside down with me?”

He chuckled, nodding, “Sure.”

You leaned onto his side as you pulled your feet up underneath you. It had been a while since the two of you had gotten to spend some quality one-on-one time with each other. You wished that it hadn’t been brought on by him being so upset, but nonetheless you were glad that he still considered you someone that he could lean on.

“Thank you,” he said after a few minutes of silence, draping his arm around your shoulders.

You nodded, “Of course. Listen, I have movie night here with myself every Friday night. You’re always invited.”

He chuckled, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You felt him press you tighter against his side, “I really am sorry, Opie.”

He sighed, “It is what it is. Just gotta…pick up the pieces I guess.”

You turned and looked up at him, and despite the fact that he sounded calm and collected, you could see it in his eyes how hurt he was. He’d always been a family man. In your eyes, he was a family man who got put in the wrong life, but there was nothing to do about that now. He was being forced to juggle it and figure it all out. Learning was tough.

“You’ll figure it out,” you nodded as you reassuringly rested your hand on his chest, “You always do.”

Behind the tears and underneath the sadness, you could see something else in his eyes. You ignored it, not wanting to make a bad situation worse. You pulled away, clearing your throat as you poured yourself another glass of wine. You offered the bottle to him, and he gladly accepted it and refilled his glass.

You found yourself curled comfortably against his side again, pretending not to notice that his hand had slid down to rest dangerously low on your hip. You could feel the slight pressure of his fingertips through the fluff of your robe. You fought to stay focused on the movie but it was difficult when you could feel him staring down at you.

“Something you wanna talk about?” you finally asked.

Despite the look in his eyes, he shook his head, “No.”

“You sure?”

You saw his eyes dart down and look at your lips, and instantly the heat began to rise in your face. You knew that he was just lost and hurting, and that you were just full of liquid confidence, but part of you was telling you that it wouldn’t be the end of the world. If there was anyone you could maintain a friendship with after a hookup, it was Opie, right?

“You’re beautiful.”

You chuckled, trying to pretend that you were less flustered than you really were, “And you’re full of wine.”

He reached out and cupped your chin when you went to turn away, forcing you to look at him, “I mean it,” his hand slid up so that it was resting on your cheek.

You placed your hand over his, “This isn’t what you need right now, Ope,” it killed you to say it but you knew that it was true.

“Please,” it was the most broken you’d heard his voice sound in a while.

That, and the look in his eyes, wiped away what little self-control you had left. You gave him a slight nod and he instantly leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. You’d imagined kissing Opie a thousand times, even if you didn’t want to admit it, but it never went quite like this. It was desperate, like he was trying to fill a void, and you let him try. His hands cupped either side of your face and you reveled in the feeling of the roughness of his hands against the soft skin of your cheeks.

His hands dropped, gripping onto your hips and maneuvering you so that you were straddling his lap. You kept your lips pressed to his as you tore the beanie off his head, letting his hair fall down to his shoulders. You raked your fingers through it as you bit down lightly on his bottom lip, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you.

He pulled his lips off of yours, letting them slide down to your neck. You tilted your head back to give him better access, a soft moan escaping your lips as he began to untie the belt of your robe. He pushed it down off your shoulders and let it drop to the floor. He drank in the sight of you in nothing but your bra and underwear, hands exploring all of the newly exposed skin that he had access to.

You lifted the bottom hem of his shirt, tossing it off to the side. You gawked at his tattoos, the muscles that flexed throughout his chest and shoulders. You’d seen him without a shirt on countless times, but being able to look and being able to touch were two completely different things. You lightly traced your fingers along the tattoos that covered his skin, but your admiration time was cut short as he pulled you into another needy kiss, reminding you what this was all really about.

His tongue ran along your bottom lip as he pulled your panties to the side, tracing one finger along your folds. You shuddered and moaned into his mouth at the contact, wordlessly begging him for more contact. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he slid his finger into you, moaning at how wet you already were.

You bit down hard on his bottom lip as he slid another finger in to join the first. You hungrily moved against his hand, desperate for any and all contact. His other hand rested on the back of your neck, making sure that your lips stayed attached to his. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body as his grip on you tightened slightly.

You pulled away, hands instantly going to the buckle of his belt. As soon as it was undone Opie lifted his hips off the couch just enough to push his jeans and boxers down below his knees, letting them pool by his ankles on the floor. He gripped back onto your hips and pulled you closer, situating you so that you were right over him. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his as he pushed himself inside you, both of you moaning at the sensation.

Not wasting any time, you began to move your body against his. It was messy, desperate, but the two of you didn’t need anything more than that. His nails dug into your back as you mindlessly tugged at his hair. He swallowed your moans as his nails raked down your back, your hands roughly cupping his face as he did.

How years had gone by without you two ending up in this position until now was beyond you. But as your hips moved against his you knew that you’d dug yourself into a very deep hole that you didn’t know if you would be able to get yourself out of. You didn’t want to go back to how things were before this, regardless of how you ended up getting here in the first place.

Your anxieties were drowned out by the sound of Opie moaning your name, fingertips digging hard into your hips. You cursed under your breath as he bit down on your neck, sucking a dark mark into the skin there.

“Fuck, Opie,” you gasped, “I’m gonna cum.”

He let out a low growl as he gripped harder onto you, hands sliding down do your ass and speeding up your movements. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the sound of his name filling the house as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs trembled beneath you as you blindly grabbed onto his shoulders to support you.

His voice was raspy as he tried and failed to get out at least one coherent sentence, “Fuck, I’m gonna, where…”

“Fuck it,” you pressed your lips hard against his for a moment, “I’m on the pill. Doesn’t matter.”

Moments later you felt him pull you as close as possible as he finished inside you, moaning and biting down hard on your shoulder as he did. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, fighting to catch his breath as he wrapped his arms tight around your middle. You leaned your head against his and lightly carded your fingers through his hair. His chest rose and fell against yours and you soaked up the contact, knowing in the back of your mind that you weren’t going to have it for long.

He stayed the night with you, and it was more of the same. You knew he was just trying not to think about the heartbreak, and you were in no position to turn him away. It was going to make it worse in the morning, but you didn’t care. He wrapped you up and held you against his chest, breathing heavy as he tangled his legs up with yours and slowly started drifting off to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, which shouldn’t have been as surprising or as hurtful as it was. With a heavy sigh you pulled on an old t-shirt and made your way out to the kitchen. You saw a note on the counter next to an already-made pot of coffee. You would be able to recognize Opie’s scratchy handwriting from a mile away.

“Sorry for crashing in and leaving. Thank you for everything. Love you. -Opie”

With a sigh you tacked the note up on the fridge. You knew you should’ve just crumpled it and thrown it out, but you couldn’t. Not yet. With a heavy sigh you went to shower off the events of the previous night in an attempt to get your mind right.

You walked into the clubhouse that night, and the weekly party was already well underway. Everyone was drinking and laughing, and it was a welcome distraction. You couldn’t pretend, though, that you weren’t constantly looking for Opie.

“What brings you here, darlin’?” Jax asked with a smile as he found a spot next to you at the bar.

You leaned into his hug with a smile, “I heard parties can be a good distraction.”

He nodded, smirking when he spotted the dark marks on your neck. He tapped them with the tip of his finger, “Looks like you’ve got a handle on that just fine.”

You laughed, face instantly getting hot, “Something like that.”

“That what you need a distraction from?”

You nodded, not caring to elaborate further, “Opie here tonight?”

Jax looked around the clubhouse as he nodded, “Yea. Got here with Lyla a few minutes ago.”

“What?”

Jax returned his gaze to you, not used to hearing such a bite to your tone, “Um. Yea. You alright?”

You nodded despite the fact that you weren’t anywhere near alright. Your heart felt like it had dropped into your stomach, “I’m fine. I just, I need to step out for some air. You see Opie tell him to come find me?”

Jax nodded but didn’t say anything else as you got off your stool and all but ran for the door. You sat down at the picnic table, running your hands down your face as you fought back the tears. You had assumed that he had ended things with Lyla and that’s how he ended up at your place, but of course not. He was never good at being alone, he wouldn’t put himself in that position if he could help it.

A few minutes later you saw someone take a seat next to you out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t need to look in order to know who it was.

“You didn’t fucking break up with her?” you weren’t expecting to sound so choked up.

“Y/N, I just—”

“Just cheated on your girlfriend with me? And didn’t bother to mention that to me?” you shook your head, “And then I fucking showed up here tonight and…” your bottom lip quivered, “Fuck, Opie.”

“I know.”

“Do you?!” you snapped, “Lyla didn’t deserve that! And I sure as hell didn’t either,” you stood up, pacing back and forth in front of the table, “Y’know what, fuck this. I, I can’t be here.”

He stood up to walk after you, “Y/N, don’t. Come on.”

You were already digging your keys out of your purse, “Don’t give me that. I can’t…I can’t look at you or be around you right now. Figure your shit out, Opie.”

That was the last thing you said to him. It’d been a little over a month since then, and you hadn’t spoken to him or been back to the clubhouse since. You were currently hugging the toilet bowl as you threw up what little was left in your stomach from dinner the night before. On top of the actual nausea, you had an uneasy feeling that you knew exactly what was causing it.

Once you rinsed out your mouth and brushed your teeth, you grabbed the pregnancy tests out of the bag from the pharmacy. It was a long shot but they did always say that even the pill wasn’t 100% effective. Just your luck, you would be in the 1% that could still get pregnant on the pill.

You set the test on the sink counter and set the timer on your phone, your entire body shaking in anticipation as you waited. You didn’t know what you wanted the result to be, really. You’d always wanted kids at some point down the road, with the right person. This just felt so sudden, with so many blank spaces.

The timer went off and with a deep breath, you looked at the test. Clear as day, the little screen said pregnant. For a moment you felt like you were going to throw up all over again. But you managed to keep your composure and take another test just to be sure, and you were rewarded with the same answer. You sighed, running your hands over your face as you tried to figure out what you were going to do.

You took out your phone and texted Opie, “Come over ASAP. We gotta talk”

After a month and a half of not speaking, that was probably an alarming text for him to get. It was effective, though, because within the hour you heard the sound of his motorcycle outside. He let himself in, finding you sitting at the kitchen counter with your head in your hands.

“Got your text. What’s going on?”

Before you got into it, you wanted some answers on a few things first, “How’s Lyla?”

He sighed, thinking that you had called him over just to continue berating him, “Wouldn’t know. Haven’t talked to her in weeks,” he paused, “Broke it off the week after that party.”

You nodded, “Right. Good. You tell her what happened with us?”

He shook his head, “No point. Didn’t want to drag you into all that shit if you weren’t even coming around anymore,” he waited for you to meet his eyes, “What’s this about?”

You sighed, waving for him to come closer. He walked into your kitchen, leaning on the opposite side of the counter from you. Your leg bounced nervously as you tried to put the words together, “I, um, fuck,” you took a deep breath and forced yourself to make eye contact with him, “I’m pregnant.”

His eyes went wide, “What?”

You nodded, “I’m pregnant. Missed my period a couple weeks ago. Took two tests today to be sure.”

“Is it…” he didn’t have to finish the sentence for you to know what he was asking.

You nodded, “Yea. Yours.”

“But I thought you were on the pill?”

Your laugh was hollow as tears appeared in your eyes, “I was. Called my doctor about it and everything. It happens. Not common but it happens,” you shook your head, “I’m not saying you need to be involved or that we need to be together or whatever. I just, I couldn’t not tell you.”

There was a long stretch of silence as he processed what you had just told him. He drummed his fingers on the countertop, “Do you want me to be involved? You want,” he gestured back and forth between the two of you, “this? Us?”

“I’ve been in love with you for years, Ope. I never said anything because you’ve always been in love with someone else. Which was, fine. It was what it was. But when you came over here that night? I almost had a fucking heart attack. And then when I found out that you hadn’t even left Lyla I was fucking…gutted. I felt so dirty and…and used.”

“Y/N, it wasn’t—”

You held your hand up to stop him, “Don’t lie. Not to me, alright? You were a mess and I shouldn’t have let it happen. But I did. That was just as much on me as it was on you. I just never thought that you would do that to Lyla. Or to me.”

“I came here that night because I trust you, because I love you,” he said, his eyes glued to the counter, “You’ve always been…safe. And I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have used you for that. That was fucked up. And I’m sorry. But,” he walked around to the other side of the counter, “if you want to do this, I’m here. For you, for the baby. I’m here.”

“I can’t just pretend…”

He nodded, “I know. And I don’t want you to. I know that I’ve got work to do,” he reached and thumbed the tears off your cheeks, “But that’s work I’m more than willing to do if you’ll let me. I love you.”

You let the words sink in for a moment as you shut your eyes and rested your hand on top of his, “I love you too.”

“And I’m sorry.”

You nodded, opening your eyes to look at him, “I know.”

“But I think we could do this. I really do. If that’s what you want.”

You paused, finally giving a slow nod, “I do. But I just…I need some time to get right with all this.”

He pulled you against his chest, pressing a kiss against the top of your head, “I got all the time in the world for you two.”

[lvlyhao]

『127′s ideal type』

headcanons, NCT 127

A/N: je suis back~ in these headcanons i talk about the type of person i imagine each member with, along with some of the traits i think they wouldn’t be too fond of. i did NOT include physical traits (ex: “would like a short/tall/blonde s/o”) because i really don’t know them??? lmao also that kind of thing could be a bit damaging to someone’s self esteem, and i want yall to know ur perfect & beautiful so

mark and hyuck will be included in dream’s version of this, and sicheng will be in wayv’s :)

today’s gif theme is just random gifs i like bc idc, there’s no aesthetic

as always, this is gender-neutral

IF YOU LIKE MY WORK PLEASE REBLOG IT AS WELL AS LIKING IT T^T

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: fluff (♡) and if you squint really hard angst (❆) bc of some REALLY small things that for me are not actual angst but oh well

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: i think none?? if you read this and find something you think should be here let me know please!!!

word count: 1.5K

pairing: nct 127 members x reader (includes taeil, taeyong, johnny, yuta, doyoung, jaehyun, jungwoo)

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Taeil

I see Taeil getting with someone who’s not only mature (personality-wise, actual age doesn’t matter) but also very determined and decisive. He’d like a person that doesn’t change their mind about things too often, learns well from their mistakes and is just all-around balanced. Other traits that I think he’d look for: politeness, a MUST; grounded; good at giving advice. Pretty much a twin-flame of his.

I think he’d find it cute if they think in a detail-oriented way and appreciate the small things in life. A positive, grateful mentality would be SO attractive to him, I swear. 

One of his deal breakers would most likely be excessive jealousy and possessiveness. He trusts you and your love for him, and I think he’d feel distraught if you were constantly questioning the relationships he has with other people (friends, co-workers, fans, etc.)

Last important thing: needs a person that can take a hit. He’s probably looking for someone he can spend the rest of his days with, so a quitter just isn’t good for that. There will be difficult moments in the future and he needs to know they won’t give up on him and on the life he chose.

Taeyong

I think Taeyong would like a calm person that knows how to take control of the relationship. He probably feels tired sometimes from leading a group of 23 people, so I can imagine he’d be thrilled if he was able to not worry at all when he’s around his partner. He trusts they’re capable of dealing with any problems that may arise and keep their feet on the ground. Bonus points if they have a good relationship with themselves.

By that I mean: you know how people say you can’t truly love others until you love yourself? Yeah, that. He’s a person like any other, and there are times when he struggles with self-love, but he needs someone that doesn’t hate themselves, or he’ll simply go crazy. With his career come so many rumours and moments that tear at his confidence… he just doesn’t need a person that has to be convinced every single day that they’re worthy of the good things in life. 

I’d say, in general, all he asks for is someone that can watch out for themselves. He’d take care of them too, but he’d like it SO much if just for once in his life he’s the one being cared for. Would just melt on the spot if you have that caring, almost parental instinct in you. Gods, yes. That’s all I can say.

Johnny

I can see him being with a very bright, smart person. He’d like someone that comes from a different background so he could learn more about their life—whether that means the country they were born in or their field of work. I think he would appreciate a very laid back person that doesn’t get stressed too often and won’t make fun of him for his bad jokes. Also, doesn’t like people that try to play him. Honesty above all.

He’d like it if they are super curious and creative, too. Picking up new hobbies and interests is something he’d be up to anytime, and it doesn’t matter what it is either. He’d give anything a try—from knitting to marine biology, no questions asked.

Something he’d dislike is if the person is too materialistic. It’s not like he’s a completely spiritual being and lives with 0 detachments to objects but he’s a firm believer in what Antoine de Saint-Exupéry said: what is essential is invisible to the eye. And, you know, what you truly find essential is up to you; it can mean family, friends, love, hope, all of that… he just wants you to love life itself as much as he does.

Yuta

He’d probably like one of the two drastic variants: a very gentle, sweet person or someone who’s on his level of flirtatiousness and boldness. Wouldn’t mind any, but he needs a strong personality, either way, you know? No blandness here. 

Something very attractive to him is being involved in social issues and caring for the world around you. Very sexc, yes, and also likes people that make others smile.

Something that would make him quite literally give up on someone is the excessive fear of change, or just the will to remain in their comfort zone at all costs. He earns for a person that wants to live life to its fullest. If not they’re not ride-or-die to that level, then he hopes they at least accompany and support him in all of the things he wants to do. 

One thing that is very tied to that is his dislike for know-it-alls. He lives in such a diverse scenario that it’s just dumb for him to think someone would ever be capable of knowing every piece of information on everything that’s out there. He’s fine with people making mistakes, but if they can’t admit to that or admit they don’t know something he just gets pissed off. So, yeah, he’d avoid stuck-ups.

Doyoung

He’d like someone very loyal and fair, who treats people with respect but calls them out if they ever have to. I think he’d prefer a person that is naturally a deep thinker and wouldn’t lose their mind over small disagreements. 

Much like Johnny, he likes that intellectual side of yours, and when I say that I don’t mean like “ah, he’d want to date a math genius” or something. No, no. I’m referring to all types of intellectuality and intelligence. The thing for him is simply using your brain and being proud of it. He would just dislike a person that kind of lives life on autopilot, you know?

He’d like it if they’re interested or professionally involved with music somehow and would consider their opinions in his career. He wouldn’t mind if their taste is hugely different from his, though. It’s alright if pop music is not your favourite or if you have no idea who EXO is (lol). All he wants is to see the world through your eyes too, in all aspects of life including this one.

Will also love you forever if you side with him when he’s being teased by the others, because, c’mon, it’s always 22 people against poor, defenceless Doyoung. Please don’t join them, he’s begging you—

Jaehyun

This is very, very clear to me but he needs to be with an independent person. He’s quite sentimental and he has his more romantic moments, sure, but he wants someone that can give him the space he needs when he needs it. A person that’s constantly begging him for attention would be way more of a burden than anything else.

Also, he’s 100% alright with someone that has a very explicit and loud love language (like saying “I love you” 300 times a day) but he’s not like that, and he needs them to see that. Jaehyun could NOT be with a person that doesn’t appreciate the love he shows in the little things, like making coffee in the morning, and if they ever question the way he feels… yeah, not good. He’d feel misunderstood and that’s a big no-no.

He’d find it cute if they’re bubbly or just very youthful but is also capable of falling for an old soul that shares his interests in things like classical music and vinyls. I don’t think he’d ever get with someone that's kind of a tech addict, though, idk why but that’s quite clear to me. Always being on your phone or caring too much about social media would probably make him feel like you’re not grateful for the things you have around you, in real life. So, yeah, not attractive, bestie.

Jungwoo

Jungwoo is a very, very, very sweet person and he needs someone who’s also like that. He wouldn’t care if that’s there for everyone to see, in the sense that they’re not shy about it, or if it’s a part of them that only a couple of close people know. As long as it’s there, he’s happy.

Aside from that, I think he’s fully capable of falling in love with quite literally anyone. He can see the beauty in all types of people, from all places, backgrounds, races, and just—anyone. He’s just so full of love for people, ah I can’t even. He’s too good for this world.

Some things that could, however, push him away from getting to know someone: a negative way of thinking, being too traditionalistic, and too much scepticism. He’s fine with people that like to honour the past and their roots but like, you’ve gotta keep up with the world you live in and accept that things change. I think that’s very tied to how much he likes defying masculine standards, too. 

The scepticism thing is quite simple: he can handle teasing just fine but if they’re constantly making fun of him for wearing his heart on his sleeve or being a bit goofy, he’d feel kind of betrayed.

---

final notes: this is the 3rd nct work i’m posting here and i’m already writing more, so i think it’s time i set up a masterlist, a fic rec blog and a tag list. if you want to be tagged in my future fics, let me know (dm, comments, anything) :)

[livexdolan]

The Cage - Part One

A/n: so hi! This is a UFC based fic about Grayson Dolan. This is an AU with an OC. There is no face claim as of now but they might change idk. I’m not going to ramble lol I’m just very very nervous. Anywho please enjoy and let me know what you think! There will be many parts to this series by the way lol so this part is kind of slow but just wait aha

Word Count: 5924

Warnings: fluff, mentions of death, explicit language, and triggering topics (maybe?) mentioned

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be famous- never telling anyone but I’ve always wanted to know- wanted to get in the head of someone famous and see what they go through- but I could’ve never guessed this was how I was going to find out.

It all started when I was 22, fresh out of college, with a crappy assistant job at a publishing company in Los Angeles, California. Having been stuck at this job for almost three years and never even having my articles read, I was starting to lose hope that I would never be more than an assistant. Until one day…”

“Lily! Get in here! And bring me a coffee!” I scurry to Mr. Lane’s office, clutching the coffee I had just gone and grabbed for him, stopping by my desk to grab my notebook and pen.

I opened his glass door and put his coffee down on his desk, pushing up my glasses as I opened my notebook and clicked my pen, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say what he needed me to do. He looks at me, his eyes bright at first but quickly losing their color and he sighs as though he’s already exasperated, “What is this?” He holds up a copy of a story I had put on his desk.

Oh jeez, another rejection. I push my glasses up again and start to stutter out an explanation in a quiet voice, “Well, I-I heard you talking to some of the reporters about need-needing a new story for next week's issue and well, I-I already had an idea so I thought I’d-” He cuts me off with a quick raise of his hand and a stoic look on his face, giving nothing away.

“Look,” he sighs and rubs his face with both hands before continuing, “It’s not a bad story, but it’s a half-baked idea. That’s your problem. That’s why you haven’t gotten a byline yet- you can never deliver a full idea- let alone a full article, do you understand?”

I look down, refusing to let him see my cheeks burn red and my eyes water. This is what he says every time I give him an idea. ���Do you want to be a journalist?” He questions.

I make eye contact with him quickly lifting my head and squaring my shoulders to try and seem more confident, “More than anything, sir.”

“Well then, I have a proposition for you.” He gets up from his chair, his tall, lean body going to perch on the corner of his desk as he looks up at me his blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, “I’ll give you a lead, and if you can follow through and get me a full 12000-word article by Monday, you can keep your job and I might throw you a lead here and there. But if you fail to deliver…” He pauses momentarily, thinking over his next words carefully, “you lose your job.”

I gasp and try to reason with myself for a second, making a mental pro-con list before replying quietly, “What’s the article on?”

He shakes his head and smirks lightly, filling my stomach with more unease, “No, you have to agree to the proposition. Then, I will tell you the story.”

Can I do this? Can I risk everything? I mean, that’s what my life’s been so far, a lot of risks and sacrifices. But is this a sacrifice I’m willing to make?

What would mom do? I sigh, “O-ok. Okay, I accept. Now, what’s the story?”

He claps his hands together excitedly and looks up at me with a boyish grin, he moves swiftly behind his desk and grabs an envelope, handing it to my shaky hands, “Grayson Dolan, he fights tonight here at the arena, go with a press pass, get an interview with him and ask him a couple of questions. Oh, and make sure we get a quote.”

I stare at him open-mouthed, frozen to my spot, “What? The Grayson Dolan?! You and I are both very aware that he refuses to do interviews. This isn’t even possible.” I say without trying to raise my voice too much.

Jace just leans back in his desk chair, lacing his fingers together and putting them behind his head, “Not my problem- it’s yours now. If I don’t have that story in my hand Monday morning, just pack your things up and leave, got it?” He smirks up at me.

I just silently walk out of his office and back to my desk, sitting down and putting my head against the cool wood surface. I don’t know if I want to cry or punch myself in the face.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“And then he told me that if I accept- but fail to give him a story- I lose my job!”

“Wow! I never liked that guy, you know. He gives off such- such a douchebag vibe.”

I can’t help but chuckle at my dad’s voice dropping a little, he hasn’t been big on cursing since mom passed. At first, it was weird because both my parents cussed when I was growing up. But after mom passed, dad decided that, ‘there’s enough hate in the world’ and that he’s not going to add to it with foul language.’

“I know Dad, but what am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t accept it! You should never risk your whole career on whether or not some guy is feeling up to an interview!”

“Ok, one-” I start, “it is not just some guy! This is Grayson Dolan! And two,” I lower my voice and chew my lip, a bad habit I picked up in middle school, “I already agreed.”

“Of course you did!” he sounds exasperated and I pull my phone away from my ear a little out of reflex, “You are just like your mother, you know that?” he sighs and the line goes quiet.

“Daddy?” I whisper into the phone. He stays silent. It’s my turn to sigh and fall back onto my couch. I mutter into the phone, “He wouldn’t tell me the story until I accepted. I have to go get ready, I’ll talk to you after the match. I’ll be sitting ringside so look for me, ok?”

“Ok, I will. I’m still not happy about this.”

“I know Dad, you’re not happy with two-thirds of the things I do.”

That gets a reluctant chuckle out of him, “I guess you’re right. Good luck, by the way. If anyone can get an interview out of Dolan- it’d be you. And if you can’t, your childhood bedroom would love to have you back.”

“Ha-ha. Thanks. I love you.”

“Love you too baby, I’ll see you soon?”

“Dad,” my stomach drops at his hopeful voice and I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth, “Maybe, bye.”

I hang up the phone before he can say anything and I sink into the couch.

I wake with a start, my neck sore from the back of the couch. Oh no. I grab my phone in a haste, I turn it on and my whole body sags in relief when the time shows up; 6:45.

I have about an hour and a half to get ready, that’s enough time!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Wrong. Very wrong. I feel a wave of heat wash over me, igniting my anxiety as I look at the time on my phone; 7:45.

I quickly put on my normal, light makeup consisting of moisturizer, skin tint, blush on my cheeks and nose, giving me an almost sunburnt look. I shape my eyebrows a little, fix my glasses, and put on my chapstick. I quickly brush out my short, wavy hair and clip back the front parts. I shake my head slightly to get my bangs in place and do one last check in the mirror before heading to my closet.

Too pink. Too casual. Too tight. Too- ugh where did I even get that from? I start moving the hangers faster, getting frustrated with my lack of options. I move past a pastel purple dress- wait. I go back to the dress and grab it off the rod, holding it up in the light.

When did I buy this? My eyebrows furrow as I look at the beautiful and delicate dress that I must’ve forgotten about. I pull it off the hanger and slowly put it on, saying a silent prayer that it fits.

I smooth the soft material out and look in the mirror. I’m pleasantly surprised by how the dress fits. It’s silk with spaghetti straps and is a lilac color with little flowers all over it.

I don’t have time to overthink my outfit now. I throw on my roommate’s white Timberlands, grab my black purse, making sure my ID, wallet, and phone are all tucked safely inside. I grab my press pass and put the lanyard around my head carefully.

Taking a deep breath, I walk out to the living room where my roommate is sitting waiting for me to come out.

I clear my throat and try not to look too awkward. Ryan looks up from her MacBook and gasps, tossing her laptop onto the couch next to her, she moves over to me, her long legs gracefully walking around the coffee table.

She investigates every part of my outfit, making me feel small and self-conscious. Before I can stop myself, I start rambling in a quiet tone, “Is-is this too much? Do you th-think it looks okay?”

She grasps my shoulders and a wide smile makes its way onto her face, “Of course, you look amazing!” I smile at her and she winks at me, “When that pretentious ass sees you- he might want to do more than just let you interview him.”

I snort and roll my eyes and she laughs, “Yeah right,” I mumble.

She walks over to our coat rack and pulls off a small black cardigan, “Here, I know it gets cold in there,” I smile gratefully and take it from her, folding it over the crook of my arm and taking a deep breath.

I start to walk towards the door and she calls my name, I look back at her as I open the door, “You look hot Lil- knock ‘em dead,” I smile at her and nod, walking out before I get sappy.

I pull into the busy parking lot of the arena and gulp down my bubbling anxiety. I find a parking spot, towards the back of the lot seeing as I don’t get bothered by having to walk a little. I go up to the line, seeing a sign that says, ‘PRESS ENTRANCE HERE’ I smile at the worker looking at me and pointing to the Press sign and then at my pass hanging around my neck, he nods.

I go towards the other entrance and show a different security guard my pass and he opens a door for me, I smile up at him, “Thank you-” I glance at the small name tag, “Don.” He blushes slightly and coughs.

I blush too and walk through the door quickly. I realize that I’m ‘backstage’ and can hear the fans cheering for one of the main card fights happening. I check my small watch and see that it’s going to be another hour or so before Grayson Dolan fights.

I take another deep breath and start walking forward, trying not to look like a lost puppy and failing when a man wearing a UFC crew shirt comes over to me with furrowed brows, “Who’re you looking for?”

I look at him, his deep voice vibrating against the walls, “Grayson Dolan,” I answer back.

He gives me a once-over and I try not to make a face when he meets my eyes and smirks, “Oh, he’ll like you.” I furrow my brows but decide not to question it as he points down a long hallway, “Four doors down, take a right, then the last door on the left is him- the one that’ll say, Grayson Dolan.” I thanked him even though he was a bit rude, and made my way down.

Once I turn down the hallway I see someone sitting outside one of the rooms on a single chair. I make my way closer and my heart drops into my stomach when I see it’s a girl sitting outside Grayson Dolan’s room, “Hello? Are-Are you okay?”

The girl looks up at me from her phone and gives me a once-over, except it’s different from the way the worker did- she looks annoyed with me. She stands up, her high heels making her about an inch or two taller than me, “Who are you?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her cleavage up.

I cough to clear my throat a little, taken back by her abrasive tone, “I’m a reporter- Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine, and if you’re here for Grayson Dolan- he won’t talk to you.”

“I- I’m sorry, why do you say that?” The woman steps closer to me and I try not to gag at the smell of her cheap, overused perfume. I step back from her and she straightens up slightly, glowering at me.

“Just run along, maybe you’ll understand when you’re grown,” She says, looking back at her phone, when she glances up and sees I’m not leaving she rolls her eyes, “Grayson Dolan doesn’t talk to reporters. I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t actually a reporter anyway, you’re probably just here to fuck him, huh? Get in line,” She laughs.

My whole body feels like it’s on fire. I don’t understand why she’s being so rude and malicious towards me but I have to get this interview. I can’t let people like her bring me down anymore. When she gives me a fake smile and sits back down, I decide to be the bigger person. Not snapping back at her and ignoring her. Because she doesn’t know me and she doesn’t know what I’ve been through.

The door opens before I can say anything anyways and we both look over, startled. A man looks over at us, then turn and glances back inside the room before he nods, looking at me, and asking what my name is, “Lily Taylor, here with Ace Publis-” I try to tell him but he cuts me off opening the door wider and my eyes widen as he tells me to come in. I try to keep from laughing when the girl asks if she can come in but he just shakes his head at her, I turn around quickly before he shuts the door, “If I were you- I wouldn’t lie to others and say you’re around his age, it’s very obvious that you’re old enough to be his mom,” And the door shuts on her shocked face.

I realize my heart is pounding in my ears and that is probably the meanest thing I’ve ever done, “I should probably apologize,” I whisper to myself and jump slightly when I hear a deep chuckle.

“What can I help you with, Ms. Taylor?” My shoulders tense at the familiar voice and I turn around slowly, facing a couch with a very amused Grayson Dolan sitting on it.

“I- I’m so sorry for being so rude to her. I didn’t mean to be.”

“Why do you think I’d care about her? She’s been sitting out there for two hours,” He laughs and I think he caught the raise of my eyebrow but ignores it, “I asked you once, Ms. Taylor, I don’t like repeating myself.” He reminds me of his question.

I square my shoulders, “I’m here with Ace Publishing & Co., I would love if you could answer some questions for me,” I smile at him, trying to come off as friendly.

His amused expression drops and he scoffs, “You’re one of them? God- here I was hoping you were a die-hard fan. Was going to make you feel very special,” He smirks at me and I scrunch my nose out of habit at his gross words. I quickly stop, realizing I need this, “Frank- show Ms. Taylor out please,” He sighs, and my eyes widen and I stick my hands out and Frank stops moving for a second.

“Wait! Wait! Please I-” Frank huffs at my refusal to move and grabs my arm as I move closer to Grayson, “Please. I wouldn’t be this adamant if I didn’t need this. Please. My career is counting on this moment. Please, I will get down on my knees and beg if I have to, please,” I put my hands in a pleading gesture, hoping he’d take pity.

He holds his hand up to Frank and he lets go of my arm, I sigh and straighten up a little, hoping to gain back some of the dignity I seemed to have lost, “What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side curiously and I blush, glancing at the ground.

“My boss he uh- he told me that if I don’t get at least a quote from you I can kiss my job goodbye and well, it’s not the best job but I’ve worked my ass off to get where I’m at and he’s being unfair and I understand that this isn’t your problem and I understand why you don’t like to talk to interviewers-”

He cuts me off, “You know why I don’t talk to interviewers?” I look up at him and nod meekly, “Why? Explain it to me,” he crosses his arms and I think he might be upset with me.

I look back down at the ground and take a breath, glancing back up at him through my lashes, “You don’t do interviews because doing an interview is personal and revealing. You’re scar- scared to let the world see who the Grayson Dolan is because you don’t think they’ll like you as much.”

He cocks his eyebrow and uncrosses his arm, sighing, looking away from me to the wall, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he contemplates for a minute, “You got like 20 minutes to ask me whatever you want, and no stupid questions that all the interviewers ask, okay?” I nod and move to sit in the chair next to the couch.

“Do you mind if I record this? I’d like to keep this paper-free, meaning I don’t have a notebook out and try to write everything down. We’re just going to have a conversation and let it flow. I can stop recording at any time if you say something you’d like erased. I’m not here to expose you, just here to get to know you. As a person. Not as a fighter. I’m not going to ask you anything about how being a fighter’s been or what your inspiration is. I’m going to ask you about you. As a whole. Because the UFC is not your personality,” I explain to him, pulling my phone out and pulling up my voice memos app and looking back up to him, waiting for an answer.

He stares at me until finally, I say his name quietly, hoping he’s okay, he blinks and flushes, shifting, “Sorry, y-yeah, that’s okay. I just- I didn’t expect you to be like- acting like a human.”

I laugh and start recording, “Maybe that means I’m a bad journalist? I don’t know- I feel like it’s easier to connect and get the questions in without papers and cameras and all that other stuff.”

(this part is going to be a dialogue as though we are just listening to the recording)

“That makes sense, and no I can tell you’re going to be great, you treat me like I’m just- a guy, which doesn’t happen often.”

“I bet, you don’t deserve that though. Okay, I’m going to start us off with some icebreakers- so tell me what your childhood dream job was, your favorite ice cream flavor, and 3 things you do on the weekends.”

“Oh, jeez, what is this- first day of 6th grade? Fine- Uh, I always wanted to be a pro wrestler, that was my dream job as a kid. My favorite- vegan- ice cream flavor is probably mint chocolate chip. And, uhm, three things I do on the weekends...okay okay I got it; eat, sleep, workout. Now you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Miss Reporter. If you want this to flow you gotta participate as well.”

“Okay, fine. Uh- as a kid I always wanted to be a veterinarian, and then when I was like 10 I realized I wanted to be a writer. My favorite ice cream flavor is probably mint chocolate chip as well. And on the weekends...I’d probably say; read, watch fights with my dad, and drink tea with my best friend at a cafe.”

“Every single weekend?”

“Yeah, my dad lives on the other side of the country so we do a FaceTime call and watch UFC together. My roommate has a job that takes up a lot of her time during the week so we go to this small cafe by our house every weekend.”

“Wow.”

(this is where the rest of the interview would be but, for later in the timeline, we aren’t going to cover every question she asks him :))

“Okay, now tell me about your family. Where you grew up, were your parents married, did you have a dog, and how do you think this all helped make you the man you are today?”

“I grew up in New Jersey; my dad left when I was 10. I’m allergic to dogs and cats, so I have a parrot named Gizmo. My mom never remarried and my sister lives with her. My brother and I moved to LA when we were 18, with no money, no job, just hope. We went to a gym and asked them if they’d train us. The next thing I knew, my brother was getting a job working at the gym and becoming one of my trainers. I learned how to fight and used my wrestling experience and worked my way into the UFC.”

“You didn’t answer my last question.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you told me how you got started in the UFC. I don’t want to know about that- everyone knows that story already. I want to know how you think the things you went through as a child have shaped you as a person.”

“I- I guess- I don’t know, to be honest. I don’t think much of who I’ve become so that question is hard to answer.”

“Why do you say that? You are one of the most accomplished men in America.”

“To others, but this- I wasn’t supposed to be a fighter. Everyone sees me as accomplished but I just feel like this was an accident. There was no great event in my life that caused me to become an MMA fighter- it just happened.”

“You don’t believe in fate, Mr. Dolan?”

“No, I don’t. Do you, Ms. Taylor?”

“Yes, I believe that we all have a path we are meant to follow and that everything happens for a reason.”

“Why?”

“Because- I don’t know- it’s nicer than the alternative to me, I guess. I don’t want to live in a world where nothing has a reason behind it. We’ll move on to the next question. You don’t disclose personal information; relationships, family, children, etcetera.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Why is that? Are you afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“The same reason I said earlier as to why you don’t like interviews; you are scared people will see the real Grayson Dolan and not like you as much or think you’re different.”

“Are you like- a profiler or something? Why do you think that?”

“I’m not a profiler- I’m a journalist. It’s my job to look for clues, pick up on the small things about someone no one else would notice.”

“Ok, I’ll accept that. Is it my turn to ask you questions?”

“No that’s not how this works.”

“You said you wanted this to be like a normal conversation, did you not?”

“Yes, I did say that, but-”

“Okay, well, I don’t know about you but normally when I’m getting to know someone- I get to ask questions just like they do.”

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

“I want to know...if you’ll go out with me?”

“What? Like on a- like on a date?”

“Yes, a date, Ms. Taylor.”

“Uh- I don’t know, maybe, I-”

“30 minutes to the fight, Dolan! Gotta get you warmed-up!”

(the story is back to normal now)

“So?” He questions as he stands up and I try to gather all my stuff. Trying to push down the butterflies while I stop the recording. I just continue to get more flustered, especially when he puts his hand out for me and I shyly take it, he pulls me to my feet and I stare at him through my lashes.

“I- sure. On one condition,” I smile slyly up at him and he raises an eyebrow at me, I ignore the unfamiliar feeling between my thighs at the look on his face and continue quickly, “You have to win this fight. I’ll be in the front row watching. If you win- I’ll go out with you.”

He smiles and then chuckles, “I thought you were going to make it hard? I could win this fight in my sleep baby, I’ll let you know the time after the fight, just stick around, yeah?”

I snort and roll my eyes, ignoring the pull on my heart when he calls me baby, “I’ll be there,” He smiles at me again and I jump a little in surprise when I feel his warm, large hand on the small of my back, he opens the door for me and leads me into the hallway.

I try not to laugh at the face of the Instagram model when she sees Grayson’s hand on me, “I’ll be looking for you in the front row, just so you know.” He teases.

I smile at him and kiss him on the cheek, “I’ll be the one cheering the loudest. Knock Em dead!” I walk away quickly and glance back seeing him standing there, his right hand gently going up to touch the spot I kissed and we both blush. My heart drops into my stomach when he looks over and sees the model. I have to turn the corner and get to my seat so I don’t see how he reacted. He wouldn’t sleep with her right after asking me out, would he? My subconscious snaps back; you barely know the man! Maybe he does this all the time! I push her down and ignore the bad feeling in my gut.

As I sit down in my seat, everything that just happened hits me and I slouch into my seat, what. the. fuck. I’m going on a date with Grayson Dolan! I got an interview with Grayson Dolan! I kissed Grayson Dolan on the cheek! I bite back a smile and take out my phone, taking a video showing me smiling at the camera, then flipping the camera around and showing off how close I am to the octagon. I sent it to my dad quickly.

He responds almost immediately.

*From Daddy: Wow!! So cool! Have tons of fun! Not too much though! Not ready to be a grandpa...yet ;)

I snort and roll my eyes, responding and then turning my phone off when the lights in the arena dim.

*To Daddy: Lmao, shut up. I’ll try to have fun though! The main card is starting! I’ll talk to you later, love you <3

After I watch a few of the fights before Graysons’, I take some pictures and jot down some information about the fights and who won, knowing it’ll add more substance to my piece.

I watch as the whole arena transforms and the whole place is bursting with barely-contained energy and the place goes dark. Suddenly, lights start beaming and music starts playing, I smile at the Kid Cudi (each fight he uses a different Cudi song) choice for tonight- Enter Galactic as it blasts through the speakers everyone goes wild, Grayson moving swiftly to the octagon with his head low and singing the song softly to himself. I can tell he’s not the same Grayson I was talking to, he has flipped the switch- as he told me he does- and is now The Grayson Dolan- UFC Fighter and Champion.

He takes his shirt off and I blush at his tan skin, the rippling muscles making my brain go straight in the gutter. The ‘doc’ pats him down and puts vaseline on his face. I try not to laugh at how weird he looks with his eyebrows slicked down.

He makes his way into the octagon and I see him scanning the front row when his eyes land on mine. I smile at him but he just gives me a curt nod in response before turning away. I’m taken aback by his attitude but I know he has to stay in his fighter mentality.

The other fighter, Dominick Reyes, comes in and he has a good amount of people cheer for him but the majority of the arena boos when he comes out. I know that having some of how this fight goes in my article will make it look better because it’s such a big deal, so I jot some notes down, some about Grayson and some about Reyes.

I subconsciously chew on my nail, scolding myself when I realize what I’m doing. He’s going to win. I tell myself to calm down, I’ve never been to a fight before so the chaotic and anxiety-filled energy around me must be getting to my head.

The ref announces them both, and then they go to the middle, Grayson goes to touch Reyes’ fist, but Reyes pulls back and smirks at Grayson, “C’mon pretty boy,” he sings.

Grayson’s jaw clenches and he starts moving around the octagon, Reyes slowly falling into a pattern of chasing him around. Grayson continues to step to the right until suddenly, he moves to the left, and Reyes doesn’t see it. I watch in astonishment as he puts all of his power into the punch, hitting Reyes perfectly on the temple. Reyes drops to the ground and Grayson’s about to follow him to the mat but the ref stops him, officially calling the fight. Grayson looks over at me, my mouth hanging wide open and he smirks, winking at me.

That asshole just winked at me.

I stand up quickly, cheering loudly with everyone else and he shakes his head, turning back to his team as they run into the octagon to hug him. Once Grayson is done with everything and the crowd starts shuffling out, Grayson comes over to me, “D’you see that?” He smiles and I smile back.

“Yeah, yeah, I saw,” He chuckles and grabs my arm pulling me into him.

I gasp as I hit his hard, sweaty chest, “You’re sweaty,” I scrunch my nose up and try to pull away but he tightens his grip, staring down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You owe me a date,” He responds and I roll my eyes, ignoring the hammering of my heart at how close we are to each other.

“What time and where?” I say, acting bored.

He chuckles down at me, “I’ll pick you up at 5:30. This Saturday. Just bring your beautiful self and don’t worry about anything else.”

“What’s the dress code?” I raise my eyebrow and he shrugs.

“Whatever you want to wear, although I’ll tell you right now they might frown upon you wearing lingerie or something like that.”

I snort and as he moves away from me a little and we start walking behind his team I realize that I’m a lot colder than I realized, rubbing my arms subconsciously and realizing that I left my sweater in the car damn it.

Grayson notices me rubbing my arms and bumps my shoulder, “You cold?”

“A little. I have a sweater in the car, I’ll be fine.”

He frowns as he opens the door to his dressing(?) room, “I have a jacket you can wear.”

He goes over to a chair in the corner and grabs a big, soft black jacket with DOLAN on the back and the UFC and Reebok logo on the front. I shake my head, “No, r-really it’s- it’s okay,”

“Just take it, you can give it back later, s’not a big deal, I don’t need it. I’m way too hot right now.”

He hands it over to me and I look down at it in his hands and then glance back at him, crossing my arms. He rolls his eyes and comes over to me, putting it on my shoulders and looking down at me, “Just wear it. Please?” He whispers and I flush, seeing that if I moved too fast our lips would be touching.

I nod softly and he steps back. I take a deep breath and put my arms through the sleeves and the jacket immediately warms me. I relax into the warmth and pull it tighter around me and he smirks, “Like you in my clothes.”

I blush and look down, “I- I should be goi-going,” I point my thumb at the door and he bites back a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll see you Saturday then?”

I nod and stutter out a response as I walk back to the door, “Y-yep! 5:30! Wait- I didn’t give you my address o-or my phone num-Ow!” I yelp in surprise when the door handle digs into my lower back and he can’t hold back his laugh as he walks over to me, trapping me between him and the door.

I swallow at his large frame covering me up, his arms resting on each side of the wall by my head, I can see his large biceps and the veins running up his arms in my peripheral vision. He smirks and leans down, “Check your pocket,” he says softly and I look up at him with furrowed brows.

I slowly move my hands to the jacket pockets and after digging around a little I feel a small piece of paper in the right pocket. I pull it out and open it up. I glance up at him in surprise at the digits scribbled onto the paper.

“H-How did you- why-” He cuts me off by moving away from me, my body on fire from how close he had been to me.

I move off the door when he motions for me to move and he opens the door, “Ms. Taylor,” He says, trying to hide a smirk.

I scoff incredulously and walk past him, stopping outside the door in the cold hallway, I turn back to look at him before I walk away to go have a panic attack in my car, “Mr. Dolan.”

A/n: okayyy so I know it’s bad and I’ll be editing it soon but I’m posting this on an ipad lmfao so please cut me some slack.

Tag List:

@pineappledols @episkygrant @georgia302 @dolan-habits @leahs-existentialcrisis @persistence-ofmemories @bubsdolan @ohdolans @vinylhazza​ @vintagedolan​​ @astrodolan @zeusgrayson @deeperdolan @blindedbythelightt @dolsobsessionz @evergreendolan​ @dicedols @plantbasedgray

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Premature

Request: ‘can i request an imagine where the reader is pregnant and luke’s away on a case when she goes into labor? and garcia has to call luke to get him home?’  

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau​ , @alvezstan​ , @saintd0lce​ , @ogmilkis​ , @reidswords​, @ssa-morgan​, @garcias-batcave​ ,  @akimagies​, @zhangyixingxing1​ , @pinkdiamond1016​

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: none

A/N: idk why i always picture luke with a daughter??? but anyway another DAD luke fic like yes pls, enjoy!

The worst part about being pregnant had to be the lower back aches.  Or maybe the way your swollen ankles prevented you from fitting into any of your cute shoes.  It could also be the tender breasts, the mood swings, or how food didn’t taste as good, yet somehow you were still always hungry.  Come to think of it, being pregnant, in general, was the worst. 

Currently, you were seven and a half months along.  You had 6 weeks until your daughter would be born.  6 weeks somehow felt both impossibly long and just around the corner.  On one hand, you really couldn’t wait to get your body back.  You missed wearing pants that didn’t have an elastic waistband, and the freedom of being able to get out of bed without Luke’s help.  

On the other hand, you and Luke were going to be first time parents.  This brought about a lot of anxiety and uncertainty.  There was still so much to get done before the baby arrived, that at times you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. 

“You worry too much,” Luke had told you one afternoon.  

But you disagreed.  “Luke, she’s gonna be here in less than two months and her room isn’t even close to being finished.  We still have to paint, and put together the crib-”

“We have six weeks, baby.  I’ll get it done, I promise.” 

His reassuring words did little to calm your mind or your nerves.  One thing that did keep the anxious thoughts at bay, was work.  Focusing your attention on BAU cases was the perfect distraction… until that was taken away from you too.  

“I don’t want you in the field,” Luke had stated that night.  

“You’re joking, right?”

Luke’s pressed lips and slightly flared nostril told you that no, he was not joking. 

“Luke,” you’d groaned, throwing your head back against the pillow.  “I’m fine.”

“You can barely walk, let alone chase after anyone,” he stated, his arms folding across his chest.  He always did that when he wanted you to take him seriously.  “And I know for a fact that you can’t fit into a bulletproof vest.”

You threw him your best glare.  “Okay, first off, that was mean.  Second, you can’t expect me to just sit here all day doing nothing.  I’ll go insane, you know I will.”

“Baby, you’re seven months pregnant.  You need to relax.”

“Relax?  Seriously, Luke?”  you felt a wave of frustration wash over you.  Lately you've been finding it so hard to control your emotions, so you’re not entirely surprised when you feel the burning of tears in your eyes. “I can’t relax! I’m uncomfortable all the time.  I’m fat and I’m hot and I’m sweaty. My boobs feel like they’re going to explode any second.  I’m nauseous and I’m tired and I’m hungry.  And if I stay home all day that’s all I’m going to think about.  I’m going to just sit and dwell on the fact that I am miserable.”

Luke’s face softens when he sees that you’re crying.  That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence lately, but he felt guilty for being the one to cause it this time around. 

“C’mere,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.  

And even though you’re angry with him, you don’t hesitate before scooting up the mattress and sliding into his arms.  You lay your head on his shoulder, Luke’s hand finding its way down to your lower back, where he rubs gentle circles into the sore muscles.  Being in his arms had a way of making you feel better. 

“I’m sorry you’re so uncomfortable, baby. I just- I worry about you. All I want is for you and the baby to be okay.”

You sniffle into his chest, his sweet words making your voice soften.  “I can’t sit here all day, Luke.  I really can’t.”

“I know.” He rests his cheek on top of your head and sighs.  “How about we meet in the middle?”

Looking up at him, you skeptically ask,  “How?”

“You could work the cases from the BAU,” he suggests. 

You scrunch your nose, secretly hoping that his compromise meant just giving in to what you wanted entirely.  But, as you think about it for a moment, you had to admit you didn’t completely hate the idea.  Things were getting challenging in the field.  And as much as you hated him for saying it, Luke was right- the bulletproof vests no longer fit you, and you couldn’t chase down any perps.  You were relatively useless, at least physically, at this point.  

“I’m sure Garcia would love an extra hand,” he adds. 

“Fine,” you mutter quietly. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, pressing a light peck against the top of your head.  

But, as Luke would soon find, just because you agreed to be stationed at the BAU did not mean you weren’t going to complain about it.   

The two of you walked, hand-in-hand, into the building the next morning.  Emily had called, about fifteen minutes prior, to let you both know that you had a case in Boston. 

“What if I just stay at the police precinct?”

Luke rolled his eyes.  “No.”

“Why not? I could help Reid with the geological profile- or interview the families.  There’s a lot I can do-”

“We already agreed that you’d stay here.”

You scoffed in frustration before trying another tactic. 

“You know,” you drawled, using the hand he wasn’t already holding to reach around and grip his arm.  “I’m worried about you, too.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you state, matter-of-factly.  “Just because I’m carrying the baby doesn’t mean I’m the only one that needs to stay safe.  It would be equally devastating if something happened to you.  You let your hand trail down the length of his arm and over to your belly.  “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”  

Luke swiped his ID badge to get inside the building before holding the door open for you, you hesitate, waiting for his response.  Luke’s lips were parted into a soft grin. “I know you’re just trying to make me feel guilty, but that was really sweet.”  He leans forward and pecks your lips lightly.  

You roll your eyes and storm into the building.  

…

“So I hear we’re going to be lab partners!” Garcia drums her fingers against the round table.  

You shrug, “Looks like it.”

“I know you’re bummed to not be in the field, but I’m so excited that you’ll be here.”

Luke’s hand reaches for yours underneath the table.  You let your fingers lace together with his before you smile back at Garcia.  Maybe being sidelined wouldn’t be all bad.  “I’m excited too, Pen,” you tell her.  

“Alright guys listen up,” Emily enters the briefing room.  “Police need our help in Boston.  Two college students have gone missing the past month, and one of the bodies was just found dumped off of I-95.  Y/N will be working the case from here, so we’ll be down a body in the field.”

Garcia hits a few buttons on the remote, making a gruesome image project onto the screen in front of the team.  She presents a few more details about the case before Emily declares, “Wheels up in 20.”

Luke’s shifting through his go bag at his desk when you approach him from behind.  You rest your hand on his back and rub up and down his soft, maroon shirt.  

“Be safe, okay?” you tell him.  You felt guilty knowing he was going into the field without you.  

Luke sighs, turning his body so that he was facing you.  His big hands rest on your hips as he holds you out in front of him.  “You know I will.”

You nod, and you believed his words, but that didn’t mean you’d be any less worried about him while he was away.  

Luke could sense the uneasiness on your face, so he leaned in and kissed your cheek lightly before whispering,  “There is nothing that could ever keep me from coming back home to you and our baby, do you hear me?” 

Leaning into his touch, you sigh.  “Good.  Because I meant what I said; I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“We’re going to miss you out there, kid.” Rossi states as he passes your desk.  

“Keep me updated,” you respond sadly.  He pats you on the shoulder before nodding with a smile.  

With a final kiss and promises to call, Luke and the rest of the team load onto the jet to head for Boston. 

At first, you stay in the bullpen seated at your desk, running through the casefile.  You were the only one in the entire room.  By habit, you kept looking up at Luke’s desk.  Instead of his warm smile, you’re met by his empty chair.  Your eyes linger for a moment before you feel a sharp pain shoot across your stomach, making you wince.  

“Woah,” you whisper, your hand falling on your bump.  “Was that a kick?” you ask her out loud.

It didn’t take long before the silence became deafening, so after a few minutes, you stand up and waddle down the hallway to Garcia’s leir.  You knock at her door before entering. 

“Hey,” you say, your hand supporting your sore back.  “It’s like, creepy quiet out there, do you mind if I work with you, in here?”

Her face lights up.  “Of course!” Immediately, she begins clearing off a space on her desk for you to set up. 

“Thanks,” you smile, taking a seat in her spare office chair.  You try your best to sit up straight as your insides begin to cramp.  Garica turns to see your eyes squeezed shut. 

“What’s wrong?” her voice is filled with concern. 

“Nothing,” you sigh in relief when the cramp passes. “She’s kicking a lot today.”

Garcia’s face breaks out into a large grin.  “Oh! My Goddaughter’s gonna be a spunky one, isn’t she?”

…

As it turned out, there wasn’t much for you to do from the BAU.  Garcia worked tirelessly, delving into files and uncovering helpful information for the team.  But you weren’t even close to being as tech savvy as her, and besides the casefile you’d already read through four times, you didn’t have many resources to work off of.  

Whenever the team would call with questions, you’d listen intently, and try to figure out some way that you could help them.  But, by that evening, you were starting to feel pretty useless.  

“Why don’t you just head home?” Garcia suggested kindly.  “You look tired.”

You were tired.  You were tired and hungry and sore from all your baby’s kicking.  But you shook your head.  “I don’t want to be in the house alone,” you admit to her.  “It’s too quiet there without Luke.”

Garcia, of course, understands.  “Do you want to take a walk?  Just around the building?”

At first, you want to say no.  But as you consider her offer, you can’t help but admit that stretching your legs sounded pretty nice, so you agree. 

“I think I’m most excited for coffee,” you tell Garcia.  The two of you had walked the entire floor of the BAU a couple of times now and were about to head back to her office.  

“God, I can’t even imagine going nine months without coffee.  I think that would break me,” she admits.  

You start to laugh, but you’re quickly interrupted by a sudden, sharp pain in your abdomen.  

“Woah,” you gasp, grabbing your stomach.  You hunch over, desperate to alleviate some of the pain, but it only grows with intensity.  It takes your breath away for a moment, and all you can do is focus on the tiled floor beneath you as you attempt to muscle through it.  

But then you feel something burst inside of you, followed by a warm liquid rushing down your leg.

With wide, terrified eyes, you look up to Garcia. 

“Pen,” you whisper, barely recognizing your own voice.  “I th-think my water just broke...”

“Oh my god,” she says, her voice higher than usual. “Oh my god, okay, okay. You’re okay.” 

She hurries to your side and wraps an arm around your waist.  You and your shaky legs are grateful for her support.  She guides you to a chair stationed in the hallway, where she helps you sit.  

The panic really starts to set in once your eyes land on your dampened pants.  

“No,” you start to shake your head rapidly.  “Pen, no I can’t- it’s too early-”

You’re amazed by how calm Garcia remains.  “It’s okay,” she tells you.  “We’re gonna get you to the hospital and everything’s gonna be fine.”

But you keep shaking your head.  “No, she’s early.  She’s too early- I need Luke, please- I can’t do this.”

“I’m gonna call Luke right now, everything’s going to be okay.”

Garcia pulls out her phone and dials your husband. She frowns when it goes to voicemail after a few rings.  

By now, there’s a steady influx of tears spilling down your cheeks. You ask softly, “Why isn’t he answering?” 

“Let me try Emily.”

You sigh a breath of relief when you hear Emily’s voice on the other end of the line.  

“Emily-” Garcia gasps. “Where’s Luke?”

You overhear her, “He’s interrogating the Unsub- why? What’s the matter?”

“Y/N’s in labor, we need him.”

“Oh my god,” Emily says.  There’s a brief pause before she tells Garcia,  “I’ll be right back.”

“Pen-” you groan, another contraction washing over you.  You hunch over in the chair and grab at the air, desperate for something to clamp down on.  

She quickly extends her hand, letting you squeeze it tightly. 

“Garcia?” you hear Luke’s sweet voice over the line.  You want to call out for him, but you can’t form the words.  

“Luke!” she exclaims, her concerned eyes never leaving you.  “Luke, Y/N’s in labor- her water just broke. You have to come home.”

You gasp and bite down on your lip as the pain suddenly intensifies.

“Breathe,” she instructs you calmly.  “Just breathe with me-”

“What?” you can hear the disbelief in his voice.  “But- she’s only seven months pregnant- that's too early-” 

The contraction passes, leaving you breathless, but you hold your hand out.  Garcia picks up on your gesture and hands you the phone. 

“Luke-” you’re on the verge of bursting into terrified tears.  “I’m so scared.”

“Baby, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” You can hear the worry in his voice as he soothes you.  “I’m on my way, okay? I’m gonna take the jet, I’ll be there soon.”

“I don’t know if I can do this-”

“No, baby- of course you can, you’re so strong.  You’re gonna be okay.”

“Please hurry,” you whimper.  

“I will, I love you.”

You pass the phone to Garcia reluctantly.  You wished you could stay on the line with him.  Something about hearing his voice made you feel calmer. 

You’re shaky and weak, but Garcia helps you all the way into the elevator and down into the parking garage.  You hesitate before climbing into the front seat of her car. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her hand gently placed on your elbow. 

“I don’t want to get your seat all gross-”

You’re referring to the amniotic sac fluid currently soaking your pants.

“Are you serious?” she asks in disbelief.  “If we don’t hurry you’re going to be giving birth in my car, so I think I’ll take my chances with the water.”

You nod quickly and climb into the front seat.  While Garcia hurries around to the front, you clutch onto your baby bump tightly, wondering why the hell she was coming so early. 

Garcia winds through traffic hurriedly, every so often she glances in your direction, trying to make sure you’re okay.  “I guess they weren’t kicks,” you groan, as another contraction washes over you.  You grip the door handle until your knuckles turn white and squeeze your eyes shut.  

“Keep breathing,” Garcia soothes.  She lets you take her hand across the console and doesn’t even wince when you squish it tightly in yours.  

“I’m really scared, Penelope,” you whimper quietly, falling back against the seat when the contraction passes.  

“I know,” Garcia clicks her tongue empathetically.  

“Nothing’s ready.  Not her room- we haven’t even set up her crib yet  I’m not ready. I was supposed to have another 6 weeks to get ready-”

But Penelope is shaking her head. “You, right now, as you are, are going to be a great mother, okay? You’re ready.”

She sounded so sure, so confident in you- maybe she was right.  

…

“Where is he?” 

You’re sweating, exposed in a delivery room, and in more pain than you ever have been in your entire life.  

Garcia’s stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand and talking you through the pain.  You’d been at the hospital about two hours now.  

Currently, Garcia was dabbing your forehead with a wet washcloth.  Your contractions were about 6 minutes apart.  According to the doctor, you’d have to start pushing soon.    

“I can’t do this without him. He should be here..”

“He’ll be here.”

You look up at her, exhausted and with fear in your eyes. 

Garcia squeezes your shoulder.  “And if he’s not here, then we’ll do this together, okay? You and me.”

“Promise you won’t leave?”

She nods.  “I promise.”

…

Luke’s sprinting through the maze of a hospital trying desperately to find the delivery room number that Garcia texted him.  He’s already been redirected by a couple of nurses, but every floor looked the same. 

The door number came into sight when he turned the corner.  He doesn’t hesitate before running the final distance between the two of you. 

Luke swings the door open, only able to exhale when his eyes finally land on you.  

You’re sitting up in your bed, hair tied up messily and cheeks flushed.  

As soon as you see him, he sees your shoulder slump, like you’ve exhaled a breath of relief.

“Luke-” 

His name is barely audible, but it’s enough.  

“I’m here, baby,” he assures you, crossing the room in just two, large strides. 

Garcia’s on the opposite side of your bed, clutching your hand tightly.  After pressing his lips against your sweaty forehead, he looks at her and mouths, ‘thank you’.  

She nods, “Of course, it was nothing.”  She says it casually, like she didn’t just spend the last three hours comforting you through labor, doing his job for him, making sure you were safe.  

It was everything. 

Minutes after Luke arrives, the doctor tells you it’s time to push.  

You flash Luke a scared glance, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple, his lips feel comforting.  “You can do this.” 

You sigh, because like you said, being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.  

...

When her soft cries fill the air, you’re finally able to breathe again.  You collapse back against your pillow, exhausted and sweaty.  

Luke’s still cupping your hand in his, his much larger fingers wrapping themselves around your skin.  He’s looking towards the doctor, who’s holding in his arms, your baby girl. 

“Is she okay?” you ask weakly.  

Luke nods.  “She’s small, but she’s so beautiful.” 

Because she’s premature, you’re not able to hold her right away.  Instead, she’s bundled up and taken to the NICU.  

“No-” you protest pathetically.  “I want her with me-”

“I know,” Luke whispers.  “But they gotta keep her warm.  They’re gonna put her in an isolette.  They said we can visit as soon as you’re ready.”

Without hesitating, you attempt to sit up in bed. “I’m ready,” you declare weakly.  

Luke’s hand pushes against your shoulder lightly in protest.  “No, baby. You need rest-”

You found yourself growing angrier and angrier.  You wanted to see your baby- wanted to hold her.  But your body betrays you.  You’re just so exhausted that you can’t even fight against him.  Instead, you fall back against the pillow and huff out a choppy, frustrated sob.

“I know,” he says.  He sits on the edge of your bed and reaches his hand out to brush some of the loose strands of hair away from your face.  He leans forward and presses his lips to your sweaty forehead. “You did so good.” He whispers against your skin.  “So, so good.”

You close your eyes against his touch, letting it wash over you. 

“How small is she?” you ask when he finally breaks away. 

Luke’s lips pressed together in a thin line and he didn't answer immediately.  After a moment he sighs.  “She’s small.” 

“She’s gonna be okay though, right?” You look to Luke for all the answers.  And he wants to give them to you.  He wants to give everything to you. 

He nods.  “She’s gonna be okay.  She’s a fighter, like her mom.”

…

Your daughter has to stay in the NICU for two, agonizingly long weeks.  After a couple of days, you start to get some energy back.  But seeing her in that box, and not being able to hold your baby when you wanted was taking its toll emotionally. 

You and Luke stayed at the hospital for the entirety of the two weeks, never wanting to leave her alone.  

It was painful and hard and exhausting, but together, it almost seemed bearable.  

The team visited in shifts.  Garcia arrived first with a giant bundle of pink balloons.  Spencer and JJ brought magazines and books to keep you busy.  Tara has a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Matt and Kristy brought you clothes to change into.  Rossi and Emily brought various dishes for the two of you to eat.  By the end of your two weeks, you felt incredibly grateful for your BAU family. 

On the day that you and Luke were finally given the okay to take your daughter home, you found your nerves inching their way back into the forefront of your mind. It was an absolute relief that your premature daughter turned out to be healthy and safe and as beautiful as ever.  But you thought about the unfinished room at home and your stomach twisted into knots. 

“Where are we gonna put her?�� you asked, imagining the crib you’d bought and never put together.  

“I’ll put it together when we get home,” Luke assures you.  “Can’t be that hard.”

You nodded, pushing the thought away.  It didn’t matter.  Not when you had this miracle of a baby in your arms. 

When Luke pulled the car into the driveway of your house, you both stared at your home, hesitating before getting out of the car, as if it was just now hitting you how much everything was about to change.  

Luke gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

You nod, everything was changing for the better.  “Ready.”

You keep her cradled to your chest as you make your way through your home.  The first order of business for Luke was to put together the crib, so your daughter would at least have a place to sleep.  

You’d worry about the rest later.  

But when you climb the stairs, you’re startled to see Garcia standing in your hallway, a cheeky grin on her face.  

“Pen, hi,” you smile.  You’d given her a key to take care of Roxy and water your plants while you were away at the hospital, you assume that was what she was here for.  

“Hi,” she smiles wide.  “Oh my goodness, is that my little bundle of joy! Let me see!” 

You pass Penelope your daughter, watching adoringly as the two interact. 

“Is someone else here?” Luke asks, peering down the hall when he hears voices. 

Garcia nods, her signature, ear to ear smile spreading across her face.  “Yeah, actually we have a surprise for you guys.” She passes your daughter back to you before turning.  

“Who’s ‘we’?” Luke asks skeptically. 

“Oh, just shut up and follow me,” she says.  Her heels click as she walks down the hall towards the bedrooms.  

When you turn the corner into your daughter's room, you can’t help but let out a loud gasp.  Your jaw practically falls to the floor, surprised to see the entire team piled inside.  

Two walls of the room were painted a beautiful shade of pink, while the other two were a soft gray.  There were various decoratives hanging on the walls, tying everything together perfectly.  There were also numerous shelves filled with an assortment of stuffed animals, toys, and books.  And in the corner stood the hardwood crib that Luke and you had bought, completely put together and accented with a beautiful mobile hanging above it.  

“Oh my god,” Luke gawks, clearly just as surprised as you. 

“You guys-” you start, but you before you can finish your sentence you start to cry.  “You guys did all this?”

The smiling faces of the rest of your team answer your question.  

“How?” Is all you can manage to say.  

“Well, I picked out the colors and the decor,” Garcia says, like it’s obvious. “Emily and Tara both helped paint.”

“And I've put my fair share of cribs together,” Matt chuckles, patting the edge of the darkwood.  “It took no time at all.”

“JJ and Spencer got together the books and the stuffed animals,” Garcia motions towards the corner of toys.  

“And I supervised,” Rossi smirked, making everyone laugh. 

“Guys, this is too much.” Luke shakes his head in disbelief before exhaling and saying sincerely,  “thank you.”

You nod in agreement.  “This is… amazing.  This is more than I could have ever dreamed of.  I love it.  She’s gonna love it,” you motion towards your now sleeping baby, mouth open and drooling on your chest.  

The team knows how exhausted you and Luke are from being at the hospital for the past two weeks, so they don’t stay long.  Slowly, they begin filing out of your house, offering both you and the new BAU baby with hugs and kisses goodbye.  

Garcia’s the last to leave as she gathers her coat from your entryway chair.  

“Pen, I know this was your idea,” you mumble.  “You didn’t have to do all this.  Thank you.” 

She shakes her head, her eyes rolling as she hugs you gently.  When she pulls away, she smirks,  “If you thought I was going to let my Goddaughter come home to an unfinished room, you are underestimating how much I am going to spoil her.”  

With that, she's out the door, leaving you and Luke and your newborn baby alone in the house for the first time as a family of three. Luke wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side securely.  You sigh, all of your anxiety and fears melting away.  Being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.  

[jinxedpanda4life]

DamiRae Hospital AU?

  No I am not writing one, if I could write well I would though! So here are some HCs for a hospital AU.    If someone decides to write this then I’ll be your first reader. Also I am sort of basing things off of Grey’s Anatomy just a bit and my limited knowledge of the medical field.

- Starts of as 1st year residents, specialties may vary

- The “Titans” are residents and 1st years that show great promise, this doesn’t really play a role its just what people call them behind their backs

- Dr. Kori Anders is a OBGYN (women parts and birth) resident, a year or two away from finishing

- Dr. Richard “Dick” Grayson is is a surgery resident, trained by the hospital owner Bruce Wayne (who is a world renowned surgeon, has awards, etc), specifically general surgery

- Dr. Garfield Logan is pediatrician (kid doctor) res, bonds well with kids, but is considering going back to school to become a vet instead

- Dr. Jaime Reyes is an oncology (cancer doctor), having had cancer as a teen and is now forever trying to rid the world of it, works mostly with kids and teens

- Dr. Jonathan Kent is a physical therapist that works with pain management. Up beat guy and is always trying to brighten his patient’s lives.

- Dr. Damian Wayne is a surgical intern, blood thirsty little thing, hoping to become a neurosurgeon (brain, spine) (or cardiothoracic (heart, lungs) both are competitive)

- Dr. Raven Roth is an anesthesiologist (the drug person that knocks you out) and is starting her surgical internship (she wanted to do more than just help people get high essentially or whatever) has no current preference for any specific surgical field

- Add in characters:

-- Dr. Jason Todd, trauma surgeon (fits too well)

-- Dr. Timothy Drake diagnostician (medical detective basically) 

-- Dr. Donna Troy gynecologist

-- Terra Markov is a nurse (i don’t like Terra but nurses are the actual best)

- Story stuff:

- Damian and Raven meet as they are put under the guidance of the same resident

-Damian has an automatic dislike for Raven because she knows everyone already and is equally, if not much more, knowledgable about surgery, the OR, the ER, protocol, etc  He also thinks she is cold because she rarely shows emotion (pot kettle Damian)

- Raven can always be found in the medical archives researching old cases and studying new ones, Damian stumbles upon her when looking for an old cardiomegaly case (enlarged heart).

- Raven gets along with all of the past ‘Robins’ making her a go to intern

- Garfield can be seen whenever he is not needed trying to flirt with Nurse Markov and often goes to Raven to sulk 

- Damian and Raven are always early to pre-rounds and are typically the first ones there (usually early in the morning, getting there before 500)

- Jon bumps into Damian more often than not and they start becoming friends (Damian is reluctant at first and is still you know Damian about everything), Damian even recommends patients to him 

- Though Damian doesn’t want to really ‘hang out’ with anyone he reluctantly hangs out with the Titans, because of Jon and Dick

            - When in a large group when at a bar, club or whatever Damian tends to stay close to Raven because 1) they actually have things to talk about 2) she isn’t loud

- Raven & Damian are both assigned to a case that is frankly befuddling and have to start spending long nights and early mornings together to figure it out

- Over that period of time they learn things about each other:

-- Raven learns: 

Damian has a dog (Titus) and cat (Alfred) 

He is single (Kori told her) and lives in an apartment close to the hospital

He has lived in various countries

He is trained in multiple martial arts 

He prefers his tea with brown sugar and a slice of lemon 

His eyes are a true emerald color with a ring of gold and flecks scattered within 

He may hide it well but when Raven compliments him he becomes flustered

He speaks to himself in Arabic when he curses, trying to remember something, doesn’t want anyone to know what he is saying

He isn’t always an asshole

When he actually smiles a true and genuine smile, she has heart palpitations

-- Damian learns:

Raven has two tattoos (neither are a bird), a gang tat (she is saving up to get it removed), and a mantra in Azarathian; Azarath Metrion Zinthos

She immigrated from Azarath when she was around 8

Her notes are in Azarathian

She actually feels a lot of emotion and knows how to control them

If she is not reading about a current or past case she is reading any book or file she can get her hands on, he has caught her reading in multiple different languages; Azarathian, English, French, Russian, Arabic, Dutch, Mandarin, (could be more or less)

She lives alone and has a cat, Nevermore, and thanks to Dick he already knew she was single

She likes all tea, no matter how prepared, but prefers the sweetener to be honey

Her hair is black but shines purple, especially under the ER lights

Her eyes are a purple that at first glance look blue, like Elizabeth Taylor, he realizes though her eyes are galaxies on their own 

When she smiles the world actually stops moving, her eyes shine like stars and he never wants the world to start moving again

She always wears a necklace with a gold and ruby ring at all times (it was her mother’s wedding ring)

- When Damian starts having le feelings for Raven he considers actually seeking medical advice as this has never happened to him before

- Raven tries her best to contain her feelings when at work, going so far as one day a month staying home just to scream, cry and feel her feelings

- It does not help that new feelings towards Damian start popping up, especially since he starts bringing her tea and hanging out with her at work

- During the middle of their 2nd year of residency someone holds Raven hostage in the hospital to fix someone that person loves (this person had connections to Trigon and knew who Raven was)

- That was not a fun time for either Damian or Raven; Damian was outside the hospital pacing trying to figure something out with the other Titans trying to calm themselves and him down

- Shots are fired and when all is said and done, Raven gets shot in the abdomen and the hand (she was in ICU for a hot sec)

- Damian seemed to be there every time Raven woke up, he was always checking on her during rounds even though he wasn’t on her case

- Raven did have to have surgery on her hand and in her abdomen (idk where i’m not getting that specific), she hated being, in her words, coddled 

- Even though Raven was right handed (the one that got shot) she learned how to do everything, writing, eating, going to the bathroom, etc. (many of the other residents are impressed since she keeps working on it after her other hand heals)

- Raven’s room also becomes a space for other residents to destress and just vent about their day. She listens and gives advice, all without looking up from whatever she was doing. 

- During this time Raven becomes hooked on Pretty Pretty Pegasus

- Raven’s room is also full of cards, flowers, etc all from fellow staff and some from patients. When she leaves (she spends a couple weeks in thanks to multiple surgeries, recovery, and other minor injuries) all of the gifts litter her apartment, the cards end up in a box by her desk, she presses the flowers, and stuffed animals are donated to children’s shelter (she keeps some that she has grown attached to)

- During this time Damian is more of an ass than usual (people notice and tease him)

- Damian at some points keeps working without breaks/sleep for hours on end. Dick pulls him aside after noticing, scolds and forces him to sleep in one of the on call rooms. (He really wanted him to go home, but Damian wasn’t leaving)

- Once Raven was discharged Damian and Garfield help her back home (clothes + gifts + Raven w/a healing hand/other injuries = need help) the other Titans would have helped but were needed at the hospital

- Garfield leaves after dropping off Raven and Damian (and her stuff) as he is called in on a Peds case (could be fake, may not be) and Raven & Damian spend the rest of the time basically watching terrible movies. (with Nevermore sitting on both of them)

- That is the night Damian realizes that not only does he like Raven, but he like likes her. He starts devising plans on how to get her to date him. 

- All his plans basically are thrown out the window because of one reason or another (he kept overthinking it)(poor guy)

- It is not until their 3rd year of residency that Raven realizes her feelings towards Damian (Have I made it clear she likes him? I can’t remember...)

- She realizes her feelings when she has to crash at his place for a night (because he lives ridiculously close to the hospital, like how expensive is that??) and he tries to make sure that she is as comfortable as possible 

- She never realized how much he cared for her? Like she was always helping him out and there for him but she never realized he reciprocated that care? *Shocker*

- Raven becomes kind of a mess because of all her emotions that she is trying to bottle up. (all the corks are disintegrating and the jar is overflowing)

- Raven is during her Ortho rotation (bone surgeon people, they are cool, ik from experience) that she actually gets a good release for her emotions (setting peoples bones and drilling and hammering in pins is actually therapeutic) 

- Raven thinks that may be the specialty she chooses

- Damian saw her as a mess and could not fathom why she was said mess, he figured it was about a romantic interest after someone made an offhand comment about her love life and she became a blubbering mess (very un-Raven like)

- After all of well *motions with hands* that Raven asks why Damian doesn’t have a s/o or someone

- He says there is only person that he has been meaning to ask out (looks pointedly at Raven)

- All Raven says is “Go for it.”

And that is where my HCs end. Now if anyone who happens upon this post decides to write a Medical AU with any of these please tag me, tell me, message me. 

You do not have to give me credit, I just want to read it. 

This took me a couple of days to write up, so if it is disjointed I apologize. 

If anything needs to be corrected for any reason let me know!

 I hope this fuels some imaginations!

-I may post more HC AU things if they come to mind, we will have to see.

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

#i wonder what your thoughts on diaspora in hetalia are#cause its a pretty interesting topic (the post in question)

@urmomsstuntdouble a collection of things that I think about on a semi-regular basis below the cut (also thank you for the tags!)

Disclaimer: I think this turned into more of a discussion of immigration and immigrants, but I hope this strikes your fancy anyways 😅. Also this got SO LONG and I explained quite a bit of history (because idk whether anyone knows much about this), so the key thoughts will be bolded!

My thoughts are kinda complicated about this tbh; it’s weird, because if China really did exist as a personification in real life, we’d probably both be judging each other, just for different reasons 😅.

General Hetalia Cases

I think when discussing immigrants/diaspora, you have to think about why different immigrants left. @cupofkey kinda discussed that a while ago (if anyone hasn’t seen this superb post, GO READ IT NOW) about the Vietnamese diaspora, and I think there’s some of that in every country. How do the immigrants feel about the home country? Why did they leave: because of hard times, poverty? Political instability/revolution/war? Opportunities overseas? Are they doing well in their new home, or still struggling? Does their new country treat them like foreigners or outcasts, unworthy of even arriving, or doing anything besides menial labor, or have they been welcomed (rather unlikely)? Do they hate their home country (politically), or miss them? Would they ever go back, not just to visit family or the place of their birth, but to return permanently?

I think on the whole, hetalia nations would still maintain a connection to their immigrants, especially since most are still in touch with their culture, although they’ve crossed borders or changed nationalities. (However, the angst of not being as in touch with your culture as you think you should is so real; would our home countries be disappointed? Or do they sympathize, somehow?) In the end, we’re all the same that way. Plus, the alternative thought of them just disowning immigrants feels weird; I don’t even know how that would be possible. But I think that connection gets complicated by the reason people left, and their feelings for their place of origin; I’ll be using APH China and Chinese Americans as an example to discuss this hksdgsdf (sorry I don’t want to do more research than necessary and I have Thoughts about this)

**OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER that immigration/diaspora discussions are almost always case by case and will vary greatly based on things like country of origin/race/ethnicity, country immigrated to, initial socioeconomic status, time period, etc. And even among diaspora, people can and will have vastly different experiences, and it’s not good to generalize. These are just some thoughts with one example.**

1. Waves of Immigration 

Depending on when people arrive, they’ve got different push/pull factors drawing them to a country and it also factors into how the nation feels about them and vice versa... Chinese immigration to the US has mostly two major waves (you could also say there were 3, counting the post-WWII/Communist China wave, but I won’t talk about that): one in the mid 1800s and the other after the 1970s/1980s into modern day; the gap is because the Chinese Exclusion Act (1882) that banned most immigration from China wasn’t repealed until 1943 (because of Japan’s attack on the US in WWII, the US needed China as an ally).

IMMIGRATION WAVE 1: MID 1800s

These immigrants were mostly from southern China (Canton area), and they came to the US because of hard times (Opium Wars + political instability because of things like the Taiping Rebellion) and economic opportunity in the West (eg. Gold Rush (San Francisco is literally “Old Gold Mountain” in Chinese today) + industrialization, railroads, expansion etc.). There was Much Discrimination against those immigrants, and many worked as hard laborers in a variety of occupations (on railroads, gold mine, farms (in the South esp), laundry businesses; there were merchants as well, but they were the minority); many were looking to get some money that they could send back to their families in China and planned to return, but over time, they settled down and stayed. I think for those immigrants, Yao would definitely be understanding, even if he might not be empathetic. After all, he’s not thriving at that time either, and although he thinks Alfred is inferior to him (in many ways), he understands why people would be drawn by economic promise and quick wealth, even if it might not be the best strategy for getting rich. It’s not like staying in China would be better lmao. However, I don’t think he would approve (?) how many of his immigrants stayed in the US when most viewed it as a temporary move; I think Yao is very surprised by how so many of them persisted to carve out a home there, despite the discrimination and limited opportunities. Perhaps he admires their resilience, the creation of Chinatowns and community and how they still come to a country that doesn’t even let them in (see the San Francisco Fire of 1906 and the boon for paper sons), but still wishes they would come back, however unlikely that hope is. Personally, Yao would never be able to stay in Alfred’s country, the beautiful country, if Alfred’s hypocrisy prevented his experience, his immigrant’s experience, from being anything close to beautiful. (You were founded by immigrants and foreigners, but now you spurn them: the poor sojourners who continue to flee to your shores, and refuse them respite from the disasters at home.) And anyways, Alfred is just the next scrappy young upstart, barely 70 years old but with a swagger like he rules the world; how could he have something over himself, the Middle Kingdom, who has stood the test of time? (Admittedly, he’s doing nowhere as well as Alfred—even he can see that, despite his pride, and despite the haze of opium in his brain. Leaving is the logical, objectively sound choice. Still, his pride hurts vaguely when he thinks how his immigrants keep choosing a country that keeps rejecting them, over and over again, instead of himself. But it is no matter. The injury to his ego is inconsequential and easily brushed aside; for they are still his people, and they deserve a good life, wherever they are. His distaste for Alfred flares up again: Arthur’s bastard child, who takes advantage of his trade (see the Open Door Notes, 1899-1900), but refuses his people.)

if anyone wants more context or is interested in the history I mentioned, I highly recommend this pdf (from the book A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America by Ronald Takaki)

IMMIGRATION FROM 1949 TO 1980: according to Wikipedia, there was very little immigration from mainland China during this period due to the Cold War and China becoming Communist; most of the immigration was from Taiwan/ROC but counted in the quota for China. Since there’s a separate Hetalia personification for TWN, I’m not going to go over that. However, there were also many people from Mainland China who escaped to Hong Kong, still a British colony, during that period (I hope it’s clear why, but if anyone asks I’ll put it in a separate post); some stayed there, while others emigrated to the US; both trips were for more freedoms and a better life etc because China was really really messed up for a bit (also keep in mind the people emigrating all had the means to and were at least middle class, usually somewhat educated, etc.). I will not be talking about that group either because I don’t think it’s my place to, but please know they exist as well.

IMMIGRANT WAVE 2: 1980s ONWARD

A lot of people came from mainland China for education; there was also an. exodus of intellectuals following 1989 (which I Will Not get into). Many of these people sought job opportunities, like those that rapidly opened up in the computer industry, there are many students who come here to study abroad, who take SATs and TOEFLs to get into good US colleges or to conduct graduate research and get PhDs; some stay, others have gone back to like, advance China’s development (this sentiment of getting good students to go abroad and then go back to China to use their talents for Patriotic Purposes isn’t a new thing, stretches back to like the late 1800s). I don’t really have much to say about this group besides what’s below ↓. 

2. Immigrant Thoughts On Their Home Country

more complicated, because it varies by generation and time period and probably 203943 other things. Mainlanders that came over starting in the 1990s till now have relatively positive feelings towards China (imo, extrapolating from my life experiences); I think part of that is also because most* of these immigrants aren’t really escaping from something? They’re coming for an education/job opportunities (students studying abroad in the US (留学生 or liuxuesheng) for graduate school or university come to mind as one example), and they’re still very much connected to China politically and culturally, sometimes* more so than to the US. For these immigrants, I think Yao doesn’t worry too much about them? They’re pretty successful* overall*, and discrimination, although still A Large Problem™, isn’t the same from stuff that Yao (or his immigrants) remember from, say the mid 1800s (see above), or even during the paranoia about Communists after WWII and the subsequent Chinese Confession Program that made many people really scared of being deported. (Red China made Chinese Americans a target of the Communist panic, and the confession program was instated in order to make sure Communist spies couldn’t infiltrate the US. Those who immigrated illegally could confess that and gain citizenship; however you also had to weed out everyone you knew who also immigrated illegally.) I think Yao would see them as an extension of himself in a different land; they’re very much still part of him, and he gives them his well wishes.

However, I think that immigrants born in the US in modern day at least (1990s onwards) are definitely more ambivalent about China’s legacy + modern day Issues™, as much as we are connected via culture and heritage. Not quite sure how Yao would feel about that, because I’m not quite sure how much Yao is the state and how much he represents the people. However, I think there would be some mutual unease; does he see this as betrayal of some kind? Perhaps he doesn’t blame us for feeling as we do? Maybe he wonders what we feel about him; maybe he doesn’t want to know. Maybe he chooses the easier route: to focus on the bonds between him and his huayi instead of the grievances, and leave the rest unsaid. 

Additionally with first gen immigrants, there’s the conflicting feeling of being stuck between two worlds and value systems that oppose each other in many respects. Also there’s sometimes a feeling of not-quite-being-in-touch-with-your-culture (in other diaspora as well, ofc. here it’s often exemplified by forgetting or not knowing how to read and write Chinese proficiently, among other things 🙃); idk. does Yao see that as a bit of a disappointment? Would he wish us to try harder? Does he view it as inevitable, for those raised in the US; the environment is too different, and perhaps he won’t blame us for those differences, or shortcomings. Does Yao know, or care, about the racism? What about his immigrants who try to assimilate completely into American culture, who try to erase the Chinese part of their identity? Those that have tried it, but regretted it? Are they still his, when they have tried rejecting their connection to him, choosing to drop the “Chinese” from Chinese American? Does he consider racism when thinking about them? What about international adoptees? Does he claim them, when some have not been raised in a culturally Chinese environment, and when it’s still a sensitive subject on both sides of the ocean? I don’t have answers to many of these questions.

There are also immigrants who fled China because of war or persecution or upheaval, (one example is with regards to the Cultural Revolution), but I don’t feel qualified to discuss it here, and I don’t want to take it lightly.

But, despite everything I’ve discussed above, I’d like to think that however an immigrant feels about their home country or however long they’ve been there, all nation personifications would still wish them a better life (even Yao). I mean, it’s not always easy being an immigrant/part of a diaspora (especially when race becomes a factor). I really don’t think any of the hetalia characters would say “look at your struggles. What a mistake it was to immigrate somewhere where you still face so many challenges, although they might be different from the ones back home”. that’s just No. Also, I think that when you disregard sentimentality and their inherent connection to the people, countries would still be able to sympathize with people trying to strive for better, you know? People immigrate for a better life, whether it’s because it was getting rough when they left or because other places had more potential, and like. although nation-people can’t leave their own country, I think they understand the people who do, because it’s a chance to make a new life, and it would be unkind, counterproductive, limiting, to prevent someone from taking that opportunity if it came. And their children, and grandchildren; they are still connected to their origins even in a new country, by blood if nothing else, and nations are people too; they must have some sentimentality for their people born in a different land. I’d like to think that if Yao met a Chinese American kid running around San Francisco’s Chinatown, or bumped into an ABC high schooler in a well to do Massachusetts suburb, he’d stop and nod and maybe say hello, and wish them luck, wherever they go in the future. After all, they are the products of his immigrant’s hopes and dreams, and they are his too, as much as they live in Alfred’s land.

* (asterisks): this is a) from my experience and research; not everyone will have the same experiences! please keep this in mind and don’t generalize a very vast group of people. :)

Idk if that was too sentimental or rambly or something, but yeah, those are some of the things I consider when I think about nations and their diasporas. If you made it down here, thanks for reading! I greatly appreciate it. Also I hope I got all my facts correct, but if anyone spots anything incorrect, especially regarding the post 1980s immigration wave, please tell me! Tried doing my research but there are still a few things I’m unsure about rip. 

This might be deleted tomorrow because I’m feeling weird about it, but feel free to reblog! I’d also very much love some feedback too if any of y’all are feeling up to it

[post-modern-prometheus]

alright so my friend has been begging me all week to do my Dramatic Reading of the hate essay and i finally did and i like. actually read it cuz when i first saw it i mostly just skimmed it. However some of the things the person said were like kinda wack so i’m gonna talk about it under the cut because being involved with drama is so embarrassing to me lmao

first of all: this isn’t me responding to them. this is for the benefit of me and my followers and anyone happens to read this (so when i say 'you' it's gen). i’m gonna talk about some of the things they said and also try to turn it into some Grand Lesson ig. or at least that’s the aim. i’m kinda writing this out as i go so i’m not sure where this is gonna turn.

my headcanons are just that: headcanons. i can be opinionated, that’s true. but i’m also aware that my opinions are my OPINIONS. if you don’t agree with something i say about a fictional character then i literally don’t care. i’m gonna talk about them the way i interpret them. i’ve made posts before with disclaimers that i literally don’t know what i’m talking about ever and i’m just having fun.

and here’s the thing, because this has happened to me before with other characters: if you’re so pressed that someone headcanons a fictional character as asexual, fuck off. check yourself and your reasoning because aphobia isn’t a cute look. also ?? why are people so concerned about the sex life of CHILDREN. i mostly call them ace (every once in awhile actually. i’m not as adamant about these headcanons as i am with say, peter or sam bc. that shit’s canon idc.) bc a) i’m ace so all characters are ace bc sex is fake literally no one feels sexual attraction wdym and b) they’re children. they’re not having sex. i don’t wanna even THINK about them having sex.

the next part really is just me bitching about the things they said about me <3

for the whole DID theory thing: i just don't like it. sorry. (and i wouldn't surprised if this person is like. in middle school so i don't wanna be mean but talk about a 'smear campaign'... anyway.)

it wasn't me that 'started' the thing with robin after the book came out but oh boy do i whole heartedly agree with it! robin is a lesbian because she is a lesbian !!! not to further will or mike's story !!!!!!!!!!!!!! this whole part really is so funny cuz i'm not sure if they're confusing me with someone else? because like they said smth ab me not wanting robin to like be gay besties with mike and like ??!!! have you been on my blog ???!! and the whole thing about accusing a lesbian of hating other lesbians? WHO ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. anyway this whole paragraph is odd and i wouldn't be surprised if they associated someone else with my blog for some reason.

idk i'm so tired of the argument in the next part about the post i made where i said don't be a jerk and don't engage. i'm so bored of it. my philosophy is just. be nice to people. but if you don't agree that's fine.

and the fic! ig that was this person, i didn't remember who it was at the time that i made a post (without tagging it bc i was just complaining to the void of space that is my own personal blog) being weirded out about it. i still think it's Not Good to write about kids having sex, but hey. ya know. i didn't like. read the fic bc it's disgusting so i don't know if they were aged up or not, but imo, aged up is still. bad. this is the cooper day argument all over again but aging up does not get rid of the fact that you saw a minor (PLAYED BY A MINOR. A REAL LIFE ACTUAL PERSON WHO IS UNDER 18. well finn's older now but still makes me ickyyyy) and decided to write smut about them? and your readers are gonna picture who they know which is. the underage characters? there's some gray area here, but i just stay away from it cuz i think it's gross <3 and, once again, i'd kindly like to ask anyone who thinks writing or reading smut about underaged characters is okay to get off my blog <3 i'm not gonna argue about this one, i think i made myself clear LAST TIME i had to deal with this shit.

anyway yeah this thing is still so weird to me, like i lowkey forgot ab it but then my bsf was like READ ME THE HATE ESSAY and this whole thing of some stranger so aggressively and adamantly hating me kinda freaks me out ngl but idk if i should say that cuz they'll prolly love that if they ever see this. i dunno if they even know someone sent this to me. alright i'm already late to meet up with my group for a project goodbye everyone who read this without getting bored <3

[itsclydebitches]

I adore talking about this with you, it's so cool to be able to agree, everything I've read is just excusing yen lmao.

And with "geralt would rather do and say things Yen wants to avoid pissing her off" LIKE YEAHH I guess I annoyed yen with my answers and she teleported Geralt out of the tower thing, and then threatened to do it again like??? Like he pissed her off so she has fuck all care about him, was over water thank god but like girl??? omg and her refusing to tell the wticher bros what she was planning on doing to Uma, like I get that they would be hesistent but I mean it's cause it's cruel and painful and they have that trauma around that. She just expects everyone to do what she asks when she asks no questions. (Lambert's "I'm not geralt" when he and Yen are kinda arguring, bb red flags)

I just assumed she didn't believe him cause if she did whats her excuse for behaving how she is lmao??? Like you believe he has amnesia and you still blame HIM over the person who maniplated him KAY.

And goodddd that fucking scene when Triss and Yen see Ciri in Kaer Morhen is genuinely the worst, Triss and Yen see their sis/daughter (not gonna get into how weird I find it that Triss considers Ciri her sister and Geralt is Ciris father and she still wants to fuck him, uncomfy) for the first time in forever, she's alive and well and while Triss is hugging Ciri, Yen kisses Geralt and Triss throws a glare at her. I hated that scene so damn much, it's stupid and shouldn't have been there. (aso I get emotions and all but Yen kissing Geralt is so bitchy, idk even full of gratitude and emotion I wouldn't kiss the man who just dumped me lol, especially not in front of a situation like Triss)

I'm still mad about the women, I really wanted to like them fuck meeee

YOU GOT TO THE PART. Oh thank god, anon, I've wanted to talk about this since we started these conversations lol

Okay, let's set the scene, shall we? You arrive to find that, with our playthroughs anyway, your ex has barged into your home. I say "barged in" because although we (Geralt) know that Yen's help is necessary and she'll be tagging along, the other witchers living there are given no prior warning and, according to Vesemir, Yen teleported in without so much as a "Hello." She then immediately starts ordering everyone around like her servants, failing to explain the situation beyond there being a curse that they have to help with. No, this isn't negotiable. She (still being an ex) takes your old room for herself, which just happens to be the biggest in the keep, and proceeds to toss a bed out the window. It's only later that Vesemir recalls that Triss used to use it, so prior to that everyone apparently just accepted that Yen was destroying their stuff for no understandable reason. Classic Yen. You go upstairs to find her cursing a blue streak at her failed experiment and when you try to lighten the mood, she snaps at you. If you're of the opinion that Yen's every order must be obeyed, this is when you're supposed to drop the conversation entirely, because she said to. Except, funnily enough, you'd like to know why she's up here being The Worst Guest Ever and destroying your property. She tries to justify this by saying that destroying a bed is better than how she could be dealing with her anger over Triss. Be grateful and all that. Except, it's not really about Triss, is it? The line is "You shagged my friend. For upwards of a year. I don't know what your witcher's code says on the matter, but ordinary folk would consider it obscene, base, vile." The blame is not on the woman who knowingly manipulated Geralt into having sex with her while he was vulnerable, it's on Geralt himself! He is the "obscene, base, vile" person for... daring to have amnesia? And when you point that out - "Yen... told you already. I lost my memory" - she yells that she's "lost [her] patience" and teleports you into a lake! This is, apparently, how she really wants to deal with her anger. Not by destroying beds, but by attacking you for things outside of your control. And I do consider it an attack. Yen is meant to be insanely powerful, she is leveraging her magic as a weapon here, particularly when Geralt has spent the whole game commenting on how much he hates portals. Yen knows this. Not just because he says so in her presence, but because she frequently reads his mind, something else he's expressed discomfort with. She's not just demonstrating her power (controlling) and sending him away when he makes a point she doesn't want to acknowledge (immature), she chooses the one thing she knows makes Geralt uncomfortable, perhaps even scared. Then when you've swum your way back to shore and returned to, despite all this, begin her list of chores, she makes a dry comment about how next time she just might drop you high enough for the fall to be fatal. With the next time implied to be, you know, the next time you disagree with her. The next time you dare to do anything other than agree with her every belief and jump at her every command.

The fandom interpretation of all this: "Lol Geralt getting yeeted is so funny. And their banter is just 😍"

Me:

You mentioned red flags and yeah like that ENTIRE SCENE is a crimson banner for me. I mean, by all means, love the fictional ships that are super messed up (I often do), but it astounds me how many fans honestly think this is just a cute interaction with absolutely no problems attached. Nothing to question here, folks. I've mentioned before, but last I discussed this in depth the asker wanted to know if I'd been an asshole to Yen and... that's it. That's the perspective. Any disagreement with her, any pushback, anything that's not complete, blind obedience is something she will not permit AND something most fans take as a given. If you're not doing what Yen tells you to, you're automatically the asshole, and if you're the asshole, you automatically deserve any punishment she chooses to dish out.

Comic spoilers coming up if you want to skip, but this is made abundantly clear in "Curse of Crows." Yen and Geralt are at their best in the moment below, enjoying one another's company on a nice day. Yen asks if Geralt wants to swim and he says nah, he'd rather watch her. She appears to like that idea and, indeed, swims naked while Geralt admires from the shore.

Actually cute right? I really liked this moment! They're cuddled up together and exchanging smiles. It's a rare moment of peace where I can believe that they truly care for one another, outside of passionate sex and not wanting the other dead. Finally, something beyond that incredibly low bar.

...except Yen starts flirting with a young man who shows up, invites him to travel with them, all while refusing to explain why she's interested in his company. The sudden third wheel is clearly bothering Geralt, but Yen continues to ignore his questioning. The answer she finally gives later that night?

She did it purely to mess with Geralt! It's his "just desserts" for "refusing to swim with [her]." She is "not one to be refused - I thought you needed reminding" by giving him "a flick on the nose." When I say that Yen treats Geralt like a dog I mean she literally treats him like a dog. He's a servant who must jump at her every command and if he doesn't, he'll punished for disobedience. He might not even know why he's being punished for a long stretch because Yen enjoys making him think she's a normal person capable of accepting that he doesn't feel like swimming right now - insert the Kaer Morhen scene where she wants to go have sex upstairs, but Geralt wants to catch up with the brothers he hasn't seen in an age here - only to reveal that actually she's made their formerly nice outing uncomfortable because he needs to be put in his place. All of which is followed by, "So... willing to join me now?" The message is very clear! Geralt had better get his ass in that tub unless he wants to be punished some more. Whether he wants a bath right now or not is inconsequential.

This is also the run where she scares the women Geralt was with, despite them being separated right now. Why? "I could."

Claims that Geralt is allowed to return to his companions (who he actually waves away) only for him to realize she's cast a spell to burn him with the water. Yen loves pretending she's okay with things only to punish Geralt for them later - sometimes with physical punishments. And what would have happened if the women had actually joined him again? Do witchers weather hot water better than the average courtesan? Who knows, but Yen clearly doesn't care who might get hurt.

Just like her time in Skellige and at Kaer Morhen, she refuses to explain what's going on. She just expects people to obey her, so-called loved ones included. Geralt was to get her cider, and arrive before her bath went cold, not question what they're doing on this dangerous hunt. He's a servant.

And my favorite, petty moment: transforming her awful inn food into a lavish meal without offering to do the same for either Geralt or Ciri.

"But, Clyde, that's just the comics. They're not really canon." Nah, questions of canon aside, this is 100% Yen's characterization. She's prideful. Immature. Beyond controlling. And punishes anyone who dares to tell her "No." Fans are always pointing out that she's meant to be horrible, she could have been a villain in another life, like any of that explains why I'm supposed to root for this relationship or enjoy her existence outside of being a complex character. Yen is interesting, but she's interesting in a "I can't wait to see her get her own just desserts" way. Not "Wooo now I get to watch this story ignore her behavior again to push a True Love narrative."

She punished Geralt frequently during their first meeting, she punishes him whenever they get together, and, I think, she punished him during the reunion with Ciri. Given our playthroughs, do we really think that after breaking up with her and all this fury over Triss - an anger so deep she destroyed the bed and attacked Geralt - she's just overcome with such joy that she forgets they're not together anymore and forgets the anger she's been nurturing for years? Yen doesn't forget. She's staring at Ciri during that moment, right where Triss is currently running towards them, and then after a considering look at Geralt pulls him in for that kiss. That was calculated. She did that to make a claim she no longer had. To punish them both: make Triss uncomfortable by playing at the "perfect" family reunion; make Geralt uncomfortable by kissing him when she knows he doesn't feel the same way. But of course, the popular reading is that she just loves him so much she couldn't help herself. Riiight.

It's just all SO BAD. (Including, as you say, the ickiness of having Triss lusting after Geralt and referring to Ciri as "little sis.") I love a lot of the women in Witcher - Cerys is a fave, Ciri, Saskia, Philippa, Keira, etc. - but the two I'm supposedly meant to fall in love with are just the worst lol.

Basically:

Half the fandom: TEAM TRISS 🤬

The other half: TEAM YEN🤬

Me: TEAM REGIS 😭

[izzyliker]

hey - this is one of the mods of the bi jon project. we don't actually dislike or disagree with pan jon at all, we just want to make a project focused on and celebrating bisexuality. our carrd is a bit rambling, but frankly we were trying our best/overcompensating to try and make sure people didn't misunderstand us and do - well, this. our intentions are good, and it's really kind of disenheartening to see all the hate we've gotten for what was meant to be a positive project. (1)

you're under no obligation to answer these, but i saw some of your posts in the tag and felt like reaching out because you did give us even the tiniest bit of slack in good faith. honestly, if you have any advice about what in our carrd is so overwhelmingly bad, we'd be happy to hear it. we've been trying to respond to the overwhelming amount of criticism we've got in a positive way, and take peoples' suggestions. (2)

as for why 'no anti-antis' was at the bottom of our rules list, it's legitimately bc we were trying so hard to be preventative about this negativity that we forgot to add it when we first posted the blog, and just remembered later. again, you're under no obligation to answer these, i just feel like no one's really actually letting us defend ourselves/are taking things in as bad faith a way as possible. (3)

im not exactly sure how the posts showed up in the tag bc ive been very purposefully not tagging them, also ive blocked all of you back (not sure why you blocked me if you actually want feedback, so it seems more like you just want free positive pr and not actual feedback) so its unlikely youll see whatever it is that i reply to this but whatever. 

the issues have all been repeatedly brought up to you so i dont really see how me repeating all of them once again could help. when i last looked at the cardd the things that stood out immediately included. 

pitting ace & bi identities and people against each other REPEATEDLY,  

starting off with a guilt trippy tone and maintaining it throughout (in my experience this is the #1 best way to receive backlash because people do not want to participate in events where you feel like youre being guilted into it, which going into scrutinizing detail over there not being enough content and passing judgement onto authors or artists over it is something that comes across as guilt trippy.),

repeatedly equating asexuality with sex repulsion (not to get into the misleading information about modteam aspec identity breakdowns, since you claimed that 3/4 of the team are aspec, which is technically correct, but what you didnt say was that only one is acespec. surely you know that [allosexual] aro and [alloromantic] ace are not interchangeable) and calling using biromantic over bisexual a “misunderstanding” of the identity as if how to define romantic vs sexual attraction (how to divide, if or if not to divide, use interchangeably different labels) isnt a deeply personal choice ace people who experience romantic attraction make, 

claiming that bisexual jon is canon (he isn’t. this is why people are suspicious of anti-other mspec identities sentiments. which theyre right, if youll be so kind as to stick around til the last paragraph) and repeatedly implying that the reason there isnt “enough” content centering bi jon because the aces are simply unable to not fixate on his asexuality (again, pitting identities against each other),

making the banned ship list way needlessly confusing and including ships that dont even include jon to it, which simply comes across as some kind of a list of bad ships, idk. a way to bypass this would simply be to say “we are looking for portrayals of healthy relationships!” and that couldve just been it. if you felt that that wouldnt exclude specific ships (eg. jondaisy that a lot of people write as a relationship between trauma survivors who have done very bad things trying to get better and learning to trust each other) it is possible to simply say “the modteam is squicked[/triggered] by ships with daisy/elias/peter and we’d like to read all of the works submitted so we’re asking not to receive submissions with those ships.” hating ships is literally completely normal but making rules hard to parse is going to attract questions, especially when the implication is that ships are excluded on the grounds of morality, and a blatant power difference ship (jonelias) is equated with jondaisy, which is from what ive seen almost exclusively shown to be a relationship between equals. that makes people EXTREMELY confused about where the line is. thats why youre getting so many questions about this.  

in general the carrd was spotty, guilt trippy, and needlessly moralizing where it definitely did not need to be. the key to getting people to engage without getting backlash is to make the event seem fun. when your carrd is filled with stuff about unrelated negative stuff people are not going to think it’s a fun event at all. 

and none of this even gets into the fact that at least one of the mods has a history of open hostility against pan people. i heard through the grapevine that he has since made a fauxpology about it, but frankly it already shone through in the language used in the event descriptions. its extremely hard to take any of this is good faith when it is easy to see that one of the organizers is quite fucking clear about thinking pansexuality is biphobic and the carrd is or at least used to be full of anti-pan (and other mspec identity) dogwhistles, and is notorious in some of the tma fic author circles for being extremely fucking nasty about trans men writing fic he doesn’t like to the point of pretending that we’re all cis people (in case youre not keeping track that is misgendering us by implication) because he doesn’t like it. i think some of you (or maybe all of you? idk) in general could stand to examine whether your engagements and participations in the fandom have been at all about having fun or adding positivity to anything, or simply making posts about what other people are doing wrong. it seems that every post i see from anyone in this group is guilt trippy and authoritative, and sadly this translated directly into the event. 

when youre, say, a trans man whose first touch to one of the mods was a post about how fic where trans men have piv sex with cis men is hurting him personally and making it a moral issue and not a matter of a simple preference to the point where he feels comfortable making claims about the trans men (and transmasc nonbinary people) writing fic about trans characters re: their gender or whether theyre fetishizing trans men, your willingness to engage in good faith with an event hosted by him that features numerous red flags is not going to be unconditional. 

im sorry to hear that it has been bad for your mental health, and idk whats fucking going on with this event anymore, but my good faith interpretations have diminished significantly since i saw the shit tmc specifically has been saying about pansexual people and pansexuality as an identity label. i have no clue where the rest of you stand but tmc has repeatedly, consistently shown himself to be unable to act in good faith towards anyone other than people who agree with him.  

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

This is totally cool, lol! That's why I tagged you, I like different perspectives 🥰 and I adore lesbian Jenny

I've been thinking a lot about Jenny's character and sexuality lately since I'm in the middle of rewatching the show. I totally agree that she's attracted to women and most times she pursues guys it's mainly to increase social status and not because of genuine interest. Nate always felt different to me, though. Like, the two times she really pursues him is in season 2, when she's being homeschooled and trying to make it as a designer, and the end of season 3, which is after the whole Damien drama and she's just looking for someone who cares about her and respects her (I know you said once that it doesn't even feel romantic here, which I also agree with, poor girl just needs a connection). I do really see how it can be interrupted as comphet, though. Like she feels like she's supposed to be attracted to Nate because who wouldn't be?

I think the reason why I lean the other way is probably just projection. Jenny's been my favourite GG character since I first watched the show when I was 12, partly because I relate a lot to her, and since I'm bisexual... Add that plus the fact that I totally have had a crush on Nate and of course I'm gonna ship them. I've been relating to Jenny even more this time around cause I dropped out of school this year, so her season 2 arc really hit close to me. So this made my jenate feelings come back tenfold and also made me that much madder at Rufus, lol. I just wanted to go through the screen and shake his shoulders like "There are other paths than the one you want your daughter to have, not everyone has to go through life like society expects you to let your daughter carve out her own unconventional path you fucking idiot!" Luckily my parents have been way more supportive.

Mainly I just see Jenny as bi with a strong lean towards women, but I like to think about lesbian Jenny, too. It wouldn't exactly be the first time I had contradicting headcanons.

I don't know I just think it's really cool that different people can have such different interpretations of the same character. I think that's what's so interesting about fiction, to see how we view things differently depending on how we view and relate to things based on our own experiences. Tumblr can be so focused on hating people who disagree with you, but I like following people with different opinions, it helps me understand people better.

Yeah, I'm glad you tagged me!! back in November, some anons were mean to me about shipping Jenate (me??? who literally does not even - anyway) and ever since then I've been trying extra to ensure that Jenate shippers feel welcome on my blog - you may already know this, because I've brought it up before, but I'm saying it here to let you know that every time you tag me in your Jenate edits I get so happy that you're sharing something you're so passionate about with me!! I'm also a big believer of like........ making the content you want to see (a big part of why I even learnt to gif is because nobody was giffing Dan & Nate, and I was like...... that's the content I need, so if it's not already existing, I'm gonna make it happen!) so regardless of my feelings it's always so cool to see the way you conceptualise JN + their feelings re: each other, and your choice of scenes + lyrics (??? I'm not actually familiar with where you got the words for your edits, they're likely songs I haven't heard, haha) is just so interesting & good!

OH my full Jenny & Nate feelings are a lot more complicated than just comphet on Jenny's part. I feel like..... neither of them was romantically/sexually into each other? and that is kind of the appeal to me? I've always interpreted Nate's interest in Jenny during the s2 arc as sort of like - everything in his life is so unstable and undetermined, and here is Jenny who is so clear on who she is and what she wants, and he admires and respects that, and he wants to be there for her and support her, so when she kisses him he just sort of lets her take their dynamic wherever she wants to? that is very much the vibe I got. You already know how I feel about lesbian Jenny, I mean, you quoted my meta right back at me :'))

but I DO agree with you that Nate is different from the other guys to Jenny. JN have this really specific kind of honesty to them - well, when Jenny wasn't spiralling and trying to get power and acting out, and when the writers actually cared? I still think that NJ had the potential to be a SOLID dynamic but the writers made it sorta unhealthy on the show :(( - but I've spoken abt moments like in seventeen candles and the empire strikes jack before, where they're both able to be emotionally vulnerable around each other in ways we don't see them be with anyone else. I've even compared that to what I like about Derena, whom everyone knows I ship in every possible way, haha. But there's something about characters who trust each other and allow themselves to be honest with each other in ways that they wouldn't otherwise EVER be - especially with characters like Jenny & Nate who have spent so long trying to seem fine and okay even when they're really not.

I honestly really like the idea of queerplatonic Jenate - they're life partners, they're each other's rock, they're each other's person - but it's not romantic OR sexual - and for Nate & Jenny, whose adolescence has involved navigating other people sexualising them so much + not having the best track record with romantic relationships - for them, I feel being qpps gets REALLY interesting, because you get all the perks of a relationship without the romantic/sexual obligations? (obligations isn't the best word, but i don't know what else to use here? LOL) and that's something i love to explore.

I feel like book Jenny was bi! The way she gushed about Nate, whom she canonically had a crush on, and the way she gushed about Serena were EXACTLY the same. Also YES I love multiple headcanons always, it's a lot of fun seeing people explore that!!! I know people who have aroace readings of Jenny, or aro lesbian / ace lesbian readings of her, and I find that really cool, too!

I also definitely get you about relating to Jenny a lot, and feeling that kind of connection. It's similar to how I feel about Dan, and .... explains a lot of my contradicting dair views, actually. A few years ago I had a seriously intense crush on a girl who was... a lot like Blair, in many ways. I spent a ridiculous amount of time writing poetry about her, etc etc, but I never actually acted on it. If she'd fabricated schemes that involved us kissing, though..... I don't know. I don't think I would've denied it if I'd felt like I actually had a chance. I think we just had a case of bad timing, & I like to think in another universe, maybe we were actually together for a bit. I'm glad that your parents are supportive of you and better than Rufus! <3

I think that's what's so interesting about fiction, to see how we view things differently depending on how we view and relate to things based on our own experiences <- THIS exactly! this is a big part of why that "proship" is in my bio. like this is exactly what it means to me and how I conceptualise & understand it!!! Like you, I also like engaging with people who have different understandings and opinions of the characters -> it definitely helps you make new friends you would otherwise not meet by staying in your bubble, & from a fandom point of view, it also helps you develop a more nuanced understanding of a character. Some of the best written Jenny Humphrey I've read was in Jenate fics - and I've had people who don't even ship Blenny tell me they liked the way I wrote Jenny in my post canon blennyfic, so... idk. it's loving Jenny hours - each and every single iteration of Jenny!!!

[random-mha-thoughts]

Sketch (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Anon requested: “Hi, I LOVE LOVE LOVE the way you write Bakugou. I always blush when reading one of your stories. Can you write one with Bakugou where they go to his room and they see like a journal of his or artwork of his that has poems or drawings of her? And he walks in and sees her reading/looking at what his work, and he gets embarrassed, but the reader absolutely loves it, and showers him with love? Pretty please with a cherry on top, and thank you!!”

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1,643

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​

a/n: Anon, you’re so lovely, why would I say no to you?  Thank you for requesting this!  I had a lot of fun writing it!  I have another Baku headcanon request coming tomorrow so look forward to that.  I hope you all enjoy reading this, and thank you again for 900 followers~ I really need to think about a 1k special event hhh idk what I’m gonna do, does anyone have suggestions?

"You didn't make it too spicy, did you?" I tease, eyeing the plates Bakugou sets the table with.

My boyfriend smirks at me.  "No, I know how much of a baby you are."  He sets down a glass jar of orange-red paste at his place setting.  "I'll just add my own spice on the side."

"Hey, I can take a little spice, I'm not totally hopeless!" I jut my lip out in a slight pout.

Another few small bowls of side dishes are placed in the middle of the table, one of them being kimchi.  "If we're gonna be together for a while, you better get used to it."  

The thought of dating Bakugou for a long time down the line warms me up, and I find myself smiling as he fetches the large serving bowl of our main course and sets it down in the middle of the table.

"And dinner is served!"  A proud grin stretches across his face when he plops down in his seat.  "Let's eat!"

Like the gentleman he is, the blond scoops out the spicy udon soup onto my bowl first before filling his own.  The broth isn't too thick, but what slightly scares me is the orange color.  I take a spoonful before Bakugou has the chance to poke fun at me being a coward.  While the spice dances on my tongue, it mingles with the rich, slightly sweet flavor to provide a happy balance that makes the heat bearable.

"Mm, Bakugou this is amazing-"

I cut myself off when I spot the boy across from me dumping a heaping spoonful of his red paste into the broth, watching in horror as the orange color of the broth turns into an angry scarlet as he mixes the paste in. He glances up at my gawking and chuckles, "Yeah, this is how spicy I like my food, babe."

My eye twitches.  "You're a monster."

He just winks in response.  "I'm your monster."

I flop back into my seat with a groan.  "I can't tell if I'm full or I'm overwhelmed."

Bakugou throws his head back and laughs at my running nose and flushed face.  "You can't handle spiciness babe, I'm sorry.  Just look at you!"  He hands me another napkin.

"Hey, at least I'm not crying."  I gladly take it from him and swipe under my nose.  But my tongue might be burning for a while.  I tried to pace myself on the water so it doesn't look like I'm struggling too much, but I ended up drinking at least 3 cups the entire meal, and this jerk across from me is relishing my pain.

"If you had another bowl, I'm sure you would have," he unsuccessfully chokes back his chuckles.

I'm aware of the swelling in my lips and the thin sheen of sweat on the back of my neck and my hairline.  "It's not funny," I pant out a whine.  But he might not be wrong.  I gulp down the rest of my fourth cup of water and rise from my seat to help clean up.

I clear the dishes from the table and bring them to the sink, where my devilish boyfriend started soaking the dishes and the bowl.  I wrap my arms around him from behind and lean my head on his shoulder.  "Babe, do you mind if I spend the night?  I didn't bring clothes though."

He shuts off the sink and turns around to hug me at the waist properly.  "You can take one of my shirts and my shorts if you wanna spend the night."  Calloused fingers stroke my cheek before cupping my chin and bringing his lips down to mine.  Surprisingly, the few kisses he places there are quick, desperate, before he nips my bottom lip, earning a yelps out of me.  He smirks at the sound.  "Your lips are so swollen, it's like they're calling me to kiss them."

An intense blush coats my cheeks and I push away from him.  "I-I'm going to look for your clothes," I stutter and scurry off to his bedroom.

"Second drawer from the bottom," he cackles after me.

I duck into his room, patting my cheeks to calm myself.  I find his drawer and pick out an oversized black tee and red basketball shorts.  When the shirt's on, it already goes down to my thigh.  I hold the shorts in my hand, debating if I should even wear them, but I err on the side of modesty.  Bakugou's already riled up seeing me eat spicy food, I don't want to push it.

"Silly, hormonal boy," I shake my head, slipping the shorts up my legs and tying off one side of the shirt to shorten it.

Somehow, my eyes meet directly with it, the sharp corner peeking out from a slightly lifted corner of his mattress.  Being the curious - and slightly nosy - person I am, I pull the object out to find that it's a thin, paper notebook.  The cover is void of any labels; I would think it was empty if there wasn't a pen hooked into it, the clip bookmarking a page in the middle.  Without another thought, I open up to the page only to stare wide-eyed at it.

Inked onto the unlined page is a half body sketch of me smiling.  The crinkles of my eyes, the out of place hairs, the smile lines, the contours of my face and neck; every detail I didn't know someone would recognize just by looking at me is inked before me in loving care.  I flip to the previous page to see a full body drawing of me gazing absently out a nearby window, the same attention to detail paid.  More flipping showed more candid moments of me drawn onto the page.  Weightlessness blooms in my chest as I scan every inch of the notebook.

It dawned on me so suddenly that tears fill my eyes in a whiplash of emotion.  Bakugou not only watches me from a distance when he thinks I'm not looking to paint this memory into his mind, but he takes the time to lovingly sketch it out into this notebook every night because he wants to look back on it.

"Babe, you-"

I snap my head towards the doorway, the ash blond frozen there as he glances at the object in my hand.  His eyes widen into saucers.  "Where did you find that?"  His voice goes half an octave higher.

"Katsuki."  That's all I can manage in my shaky voice.  A million overwhelming thoughts and emotions tumble inside me that I don't know how to start.

"You weren't supposed to see that!"  His cheeks turn scarlet as he stumbles towards me, hand outstretched to snatch the book out of my hand.

I shut it and hug it to my chest, protecting it as I examine the boy in front of me.  It hasn't been terribly long since Bakugou and I started dating, we just crossed 6 months a few weeks ago.  There are still times when I'm unsure of his feelings towards me, an insecure side of me that I can't help.  But now that I've seen this silent gesture of his affection, I see our relationship in a new light.

Bakugou groans out.  "Shit, I never wanted you to see it-!"

I throw my arms around him to shut him up.  "You idiot, I love it.  It's not creepy or weird or anything like that.  I didn't even know you saw me like this, you big lovable dork."

"Wait wait," he pulls me away by my shoulders, "You're okay with it?"

"Katsuki, you're too sweet," I laugh wholeheartedly and start peppering kisses all over his face.  "This is the most flattering thing someone's done for me, why would I hate it?"

His face turns a deeper shade of red.  "I dunno...  I don't do this for everyone, just you, I didn't know how you would react."

"Well now you know."  I let go of him to stare at another page, my chest comfortably full.  "Look how much love you put into this, I can't believe you hid this from me."

Bakugou scratches the back of his head.  "You...wanna know which one's my favorite?"

My eyes widen as he takes the book out of my hands and flips through, landing on one page near the beginning and shows it to me.  "It's rough, but it's one of my favorite memories of you."

I didn't think my heart could swell more than it already has, but it did with this one.  My head rests facing up on Bakugou's lap, my eyes closed and a lazy smile gracing my features.  One of his large hands rests on my cheek like it's softly caressing the skin.

"Say something at least," my boyfriend grumbles after a few moments of my awed silence.

I decide not to, opting to plant a kiss on his lips instead.  "I don't know how you manage to make me look more attractive than I actually am, thank you."

"Dumbass, of course you're actually this attractive."

I lean back against his chest, admiring his line work.  It's not the most artistic, but it still manages to bring out the beauty and love in the image.  "Maybe you should draw one of us together."

His eyebrows furrow together.  "No way, I did this for you, not me."

"But it would make me really happy if you did one of us together.  It makes your love look one sided when you know that's not true."

He wraps his arm around me and kisses the top of my head.  "Fine, I'll do it for you, babe."  His calloused hand reaches up to brush my face.  "But just so you know, I'm totally drawing you all flushed over spicy food because I really liked seeing you that way."

"Pervert!"

[anaisonfire]

@pumpkinpaix‘s extremely good meta about class in MDZS made me think about how, in-universe, the Sunshot Campaign is presented as a We The Good Guys against Them The Bad Guys. And while that gets deconstructed in the story and even more in the fandom at large, I still feel like... there’s a leftover vibe of it, that most people still treat it (the story) as a Good Guys vs Bad Guys when it. isn’t. At all.

I mean, ultimately what is the Sunshot Campaign? It’s a bunch of powerful rich people fighting to bring down that other powerful rich guy because he decided he wants to be The Most Powerful Rich Guy of them all. The Five Great Sects become the Four Great Sects. Nothing actually, meaningfully changes.

This has obviously been pointed out before. However I think it’s not just an element of the story - the hypocrisy of the sects, which is much talked about in the fandom - but also a theme of everything that happens.

The whole story is very... inner-world focused. What I mean is: it’s not a story about great societal change; by and large, the story ultimately affects only specific people, our cast of characters.

For the larger population of Ancient Fantasy China, nothing much changes. The popular Super Bad Guy to hate is The Wen Sect, then The Yiling Patriarch, then Jin Guangyao (who are all reviled for daring to go against the greater cultivation world, albeit in different ways). It’s very much a cycle and not only doesn’t it change within the story, it’s a cycle that not one character has an explicit motivation of changing. There isn’t anyone with a goal ‘Down with the system!’. JGY, who could have had that as a motivator, instead wants to become a part of the upper class. And like, he does do good for the common man (the watchtowers, which I love as a concept and an indication of his character) - but his personal ambition still takes precedence over any desire he might have had to make the world better.

Even the Sunshot Campaign, which was a war and therefore necessarily affected a whole lot of people, is still ultimately not very relevant to the interests of the common non-cultivators. It’s fought by cultivators, for the interests of cultivators. At the end of it, the status quo is still upheld and the same system is still in place.

Even WWX, with his Wen Refugees, doesn’t set out to change the system. He does come to care very much about the injustice of the camps and the Wens’ treatment specifically but I don’t, at any point, get the feeling from him that he feels particularly strongly about the injustice of the system in general. I do think he becomes aware that the whole thing is pretty BS, if not after being reborn, then for sure after the whole mess with JGY is done - but even then, he doesn’t set out to reform anything or change opinions. He’s going to fight against specific instances of injustice when he sees them in the world but other than that, he’s going to mind his own business and live his happily ever after married life with Lan Wangji. (To be clear, this isn’t a criticism, I’m not trying to say that he’s #problematic or anything.)

What I’m trying to get at is that none of the characters we see ever have the Betterment Of Society as a goal they work towards (as the meta linked points out, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan set out to create an alternative, not to fix what’s already here). All their motivations, their goals are ultimately very personal.

In CQL, the story comes off as way more concerned with and focused on society and the way things are/should be, whereas in the novel, any point that’s made about that is secondary to the characters’ personal stories and journeys. I could call it outer-world focused vs inner-world focused, I suppose. Which isn’t to say one’s better than the other! I just find it an interesting thematic distinction.

I don’t think I have a greater point, I just think that’s neat and something that’s important to keep in mind when talking about characterization or analyzing the text!

Idk this might be splitting hairs or preaching to the choir but I needed it spelled out clearly for myself and maybe someone else will also have a ‘!!!’ moment if they read it so I’m putting it in the tags :’D.

(also sorry @ OP if you don’t want to be tagged, i’m not sure what the etiquette is for when you get inspired by cool meta lol)

[my-proof-is-you]

Secretly Broken - Pt. 4 (Final)

Jared x Reader

Summary: When your best friend asked you to be a nanny for his kids, you jumped at the opportunity. You didn’t have much going on in your career, so it seemed like the perfect way to keep making money while you looked for your next job. Things take a turn, though, when you realize that keeping your feelings for Jared at bay isn’t as easy as you thought. Not only that, you would never want to come between him and his wife. While you are doing your best to keep your feelings secret, Jared has a secret of his own.

Warnings: fluff, angst

A/N: So because I think Gen is awesome, for the sake of what is happening in this fic, Jared married someone else. Kids names are the same, though :)

Honestly, this is based on a dream I had. So…idk. Apparently I love Jared.

Masterlist | Tag Yourself!

You

You taped the note to the Padalecki’s door, stepping back to make sure it stuck before you turned to leave. 

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you hopped in the cab, directing the driver to the airport. 

You thought over the words you’d written, sniffling to yourself as the car began to move. 

Jare,

I can’t be your nanny anymore. I love the kids—God I love them—but I can’t stay and mess up your life and your family any more. 

You all mean the world to me. I’ve added the phone number to a trusted friend who can nanny for you until you find my replacement. 

Y/N

Jared

Jared folded the piece of paper he was holding, letting out a sigh. He shoved it in his pocket, pushing down his disappointment as Tom came into the room.

“Daddy, when will Y/N be here?” he asked.

“I’m not sure, bud,” he responded, ruffling his son’s hair. It was unusual for you to be late, and Jensen was coming over soon to go out with him.

“Hey, Paddles,” Jensen called as he let himself in. 

“Hey, man,” he replied as he saw the man coming into the living room.

“Someone left a note on your door,” he said, holding out an envelope. Jared took it, tearing it open with a curious look. Jensen continued into the house, sitting down on the couch while Jared began to read. 

He felt his heart drop into his stomach. 

“No…” he said quietly. 

“What?” Jensen asked with concern. 

“Boys, go get ready for bed,” he said, thankful that Odette was already down for the night. “I’ll be up to tuck you in soon.”

His sons listened, telling their uncle Jensen goodnight before racing up the stairs.

“Jare, what is it? You’re scaring me,” Jensen said, pulling Jared to sit next to him on the couch. Jared let him, plopping down on the couch since his legs didn’t seem to want to hold him up anyway.

“S-She’s gone,” he said finally, his eyes scanning the note over and over.

“Who? Natalie?” Jensen asked, taking the letter from him.

“No...well, yes, but no…” Jared trailed off, letting Jensen read the note for himself. 

“Y/N? But why?” he asked as he finished reading.

“I really don’t know,” Jared replied, running his hands through his hair. 

“Well did you guys have a fight? Is something going on with the kids?” Jensen prodded.

“I don’t think so, man. I mean, Natalie came home the other night, and I was trying to comfort Y/N. She seemed like she was having a bad day. I was hugging her, and after I went to talk to Natalie I came downstairs and Y/N was gone.”

“Oh,” Jensen replied as if he understood now why you left.

“What?” Jared asked, still confused.

“Well based one what she wrote, she didn’t want to get in the way of your marriage.”

“What? How?” Jared asked, shocked.

“Dude, c’mon,” Jensen replied. 

“What?”

“The chemistry between you and Y/N is obvious. And with what you told me...hugging her? The way you always flirt? I’m guessing it was hard for her not to read into it.”

“Fuck,” Jared said, realization hitting him like a freight train.

“Yeah. You screwed up,” Jensen said. “And Y/N is kinda right, man. You really shouldn’t have been like that with her. You’re married.”

“No, I’m not,” Jared said, standing up and pacing the room.

“What?” Jensen asked, confused.

“I’m not married. Natalie and I have been divorced for months,” he explained. Jensen stared at him with an open mouth. “Things have been bad between us for a long time. But she didn’t want any bad publicity for her movie.”

“That’s selfish,” Jensen remarked.

“No shit. I learned a lot about her after she got this role,” Jared said, shaking his head. “And to top it all off, just before you got here I was reading something I got in the mail,” he said, fishing the folded paper out of his pocket. He handed it to his best friend.

“She’s giving up custody?” Jensen said, looking up from the paper with wide eyes.

“Yeah. Not only was she a shitty wife, she also doesn’t seem to care about the kids.”

“Wow, Jare. Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” Jensen asked. 

“I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want it to accidentally get out to the kids before I could properly tell them.” He chuckled dryly. “I have no idea how I’m going to tell them this now.”

Jensen sighed. “Okay, regardless of all this shit with Natalie...what about Y/N?”

Jared closed his eyes, sighing. “I can’t lose her, Jay. Not after everything.”

Jensen nodded solemnly. “Do you love her?”

“To be honest, I hadn’t let myself think about it,” he responded, sitting down on the couch again. He bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears he could feel stinging his eyes. “But if how I’m feeling now is any indication...yes. I love her.”

You

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“Hi, Danneel,” you said into the phone as you pulled the speaker away from your ear. 

“What the fuck, Y/N? You leave town without telling any of us, just a lame note stuck to Jared’s door?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to try to stop me.”

“Yeah, and I would’ve! You are being stupid!” she said, exasperated. 

“Danneel, you know that I appreciate you being blunt with me usually, but this is not fun.”

“Why did you leave? Because of your crush?”

“Yes! He just...he’s affectionate. And for him, it just being friendly. For me, though, it means more. And Natalie fucking walked in while he was hugging me and I’m sure I’m just causing problems for their marriage. I am not going to do that.”

She sighed. “Natalie is never fucking there,” she said slowly. “You are. And by the way, he is heartbroken that you left.”

“H-He is?”

“You really need to talk to him, Y/N,” she said. You felt like there was something she wasn’t telling you.

“What’s going on, Danneel?” you asked.

“Just...talk to him. Please.”

Your finger hovered over the call button, Jared’s contact information shining from your phone. 

You were terrified. You’d left like a coward, and you knew he was probably furious that you’d left him with just a note.

You sighed, leaning back into the couch at your parent’s house. You’d gone there after leaving Austin, needing to clear your head and get out of town for a while. 

You finally tapped your phone, the line ringing as you held your breath.

“Y/N?” Jared answered, sounding almost breathless.

“Hi,” you said weakly. 

“Hi,” he responded. He didn’t sound angry. He sounded sad.

“I’m sorry I left. I just...couldn’t be there anymore.” you said after a silence. 

“You could’ve talked to me,” he responded.

“No, I couldn’t. It would have ruined everything.” 

“Y/N, Natalie and I are divorced.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the information. “W-What?”

“It’s been a few months. We were keeping it a secret so the press didn’t find out,” he said, almost scoffing. 

“B-But what about the kids?” you asked, immediately concerned for how they were taking it. 

He chuckled a little bit, which confused you. 

“They’re okay,” he said quietly. “I explained it the best I could, and they seemed to understand. They weren’t exactly close with her.”

“Jared, if I did anything to—“

“Stop. You didn’t do anything wrong. Natalie was what was wrong. We were wrong from the beginning. She...she gave up custody of the kids.”

You gasped. You couldn’t understand how anyone could do that. They were the three most perfect children you’d ever met.

“You see?” he said resolutely. “Your first thought was to worry about the kids. I can tell, even without seeing your face that you’re horrified that she gave them up.” He paused. “I should have told you a long time ago, Y/N.”

“I get it, Jare. You didn’t want it getting out.”

“No, Y/N. I should have told you a long time ago...I’m in love with you. I have been for years.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Y-You love me?”

“Yes. What I felt for Natalie always paled in comparison to what I feel for you. I love you.”

“I...I love you, too,” you said. “So, so much.”

“Good,” he replied. You could almost hear his smile. “Then come outside.”

You felt a smile spread across your face. You rushed to the front door, wrenching it open. You saw Jared standing at the end of the driveway, his car a few feet behind him.

“I guess Danneel told you where I was,” you said, still talking into the phone.

“I may have had to threaten her,” he said, a smirk on his face. You threw your phone on the grass in front of you, rushing down the sidewalk. You leapt as soon as you got to him, jumping into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. You hugged him as tight as you could, his hand cradling the back of your neck. 

You pulled back, his lips crashing into yours. It was everything you’d been wanting for years. His lips melded perfectly to yours, your tongues dancing as you slowly slid down until you were standing in front of him. 

When you pulled apart he reached a hand up, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“Will you come home to our family?” he asked.

You nodded, unable to stop your smile. “Do the boys hate me?” you asked, knowing you should never have left them.

“They could never hate you. They have been asking about you nonstop, though.” He cupped your cheek. “They haven’t asked about Natalie once. You know why?”

You shook your head.

“Because you have been more of a mother to them than she is even capable of.”

“I love them, Jare. All three of them. You are my family.”

“Let’s go home,” he said, smiling. You kissed him again, standing on your toes to reach his lips. 

Later, as you walked in the door to his house, the boys ran to hug you. 

“Y/N! You’re back! We missed you!” Tom yelled, practically jumping up and down. 

“I missed you too, Tom,” you responded, your heart nearly breaking. Jensen had been watching the kids and gave you a big smile as he carried Odette in from the living room.

“Are you staying?” he asked.

You looked to Jared, who had taken Odette from Jensen.

“As long as you’ll have me,” you replied, your eyes never leaving Jared’s.

THE END

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