#and for some reason that makes me feel even worse

[sage-nebula]

In my personal opinion, all three of these have a high probability of backfiring. They assume that the person you're interacting with knows your intention, and/or is interacting in good faith, but on the chance that isn't true (and there is a good chance there isn't), all this will do is escalate the situation and make it worse.

To explain in detail:

"Are you okay?" — This comes across as incredibly passive-aggressive and patronizing if it's said in response to someone who is, by all appearances, in fine health. Particularly if the person you're speaking with is already in a hostile mood, they won't read this as concern, but rather as mockery, and it WILL further escalate the situation. Further, the HR representative has every opportunity here to put their own feelings into what you meant: did you have genuine reason to believe your coworker was in distress? Or were you passive-aggressively insinuating you believed they were deranged? Because the coworker believes the latter and that's why they reported you (after yelling even more in response to you passive-aggressively calling them crazy).

"Could you repeat that for me?" / "Can you explain what you mean?" — Playing dumb can work if, and only if, the coworker is genuinely not an asshole. However, some people are. And these people will see these questions and repeat / explain themselves in an even more condescending, insulting way: slowed down speech, over-enunciated sounds, little words. Now, you could get them with HR even harder for this, but you're taking a hit first.

So, what should you say instead? Here is your step-by-step guide.

Step 1: Acknowledge Their Issue — This is NOT the same as apologizing. If you genuinely did something wrong, by all means, but if you didn't, don't claim responsibility for something you didn't do! Here is a good stock response: "I understand where you're coming from, and see how that would be frustrating."

This acknowledges their feelings, which is an important step in deescalation. Even assholes often just want to be heard and validated. However, we are not done. IF the asshole doesn't deflate after having their feelings soothed, you'll need to move onto Step 2. (You can also lead right into Step 2 if this is all through email or Teams.)

Step 2: State Need for Professionalism — In this step you both stand up for yourself, and make it explicitly clear what your intentions are, in a way that cannot be misconstrued. Here is a stock phrase: "I feel that this conversation has become a bit heated. I ask that we remain polite and professional for the remainder of this discussion."

Using "I feel" language removes any chance that the coworker can say you accused them of anything. You aren't insinuating that they're crazy or anything like that, but rather just saying that your perception is that this conversation is heated. You are also asking for polite professionalism, which is an expectation of the workplace, but in such a way that it CANNOT be twisted into an accusation (but that YOU know is commentary on your coworker, and your coworker will understand as well, without being able to use it against you).

But we're still not done! If they continue to bluster and storm, Step 3 has got you.

Step 3: End the Convo, Involve Higher-Up — In this step you both disengage the rude coworker, and cover your ass (CYA). Here is a stock phrase: "Apologies, but I do not feel that continuing this conversation will be productive for either of us. I will see if we can resume this conversation with [manager / HR] present. Good day."

Saying that you don't feel the conversation is productive communicates the message that they are not communicating effectively, but once again in a way that cannot be twisted into an attack on their person. Furthermore, "productive" carries the connotation that YOU are interested in working with this person, which will look good to whichever higher-up you involve next.

Because at this point, you DO need to involve one. This is to CYA. Controlling the narrative is crucial in workplace disputes and that means being the first to report the situation. Pick whoever is most appropriate; if you and the coworker share a manager, you can go there. If not, HR would be the better bet. Even if you share a manager, you can still go to HR if you trust them more. It's up to you.

If this confrontation took place in person, walk away after saying this and go to either manager / HR to explain the situation. If the coworker tries to stop you, just repeat that you don't feel the conversation is productive and request that they move out of your way. Such a thing will attract attention, so it's important you seem as reasonable as possible while they make themselves look worse.

If this confrontation took place over email, immediately forward with an explanation of what they will be looking at. Here is a good template:

"Hi [Manager / HR name],

I wanted to bring to your attention a conversation [Coworker] and I just had, in case it has potential for further issues to arise. The conversation was initially about [situation], however, I feel that [Coworker]'s language was disrespectful and not conducive to a working relationship. I would appreciate it if you would review the situation and speak to [Coworker] on my behalf, since I do not wish for this incident to escalate further. Every email between [Coworker] and myself is included in the chain below.

Thank you,

[Your Name]"

This template accomplishes several things:

It alerts the manager / HR person to the fact that there is an issue.

Provides context as to why the issue happened.

Does not seem accusatory toward the coworker; accusations will work against you 9 times out of 10.

Places emphasis on wanting to maintain professionalism and productivity, which are things both managers and HR people also want.

Asks M / HR to take over the situation.

Provides the full conversation (i.e. the RECEIPTS) so they can see what went down.

By this point you might be thinking, "These sound like robot responses! Why do I need to include lines about professionalism and productivity? Why do I need to weasel around accusations?"

The reason to all of these is: this is how you both play and win the game. You're not in this to dunk on your rude coworker; you're in it to shut them down. And the way to do that is to be clear, specific, and get / keep management and HR on your side. That means getting to them first, and keeping yourself sounding reasonable in contrast to your asshole coworker. Stating intentions clearly means your words can't be used against you; using words like professionalism and productivity will make M / HR believe you really care about this workplace.

This is how you win. Trust me. (Source: Master's in communications management, mid-level managerial experience, and over a decade of experience deescalating and dealing with assholes in the workplace.)

Tips and ideas for how to respond when someone is being rude to you

For personal reasons I won't get into, I have a history of just freezing when some is rude / hostile / aggressive / condescending / patronizing / etc. It's obviously not something I'm happy about at all, most people who freeze or fawn aren't happy about it and would change it if they could.

One day I confided in my co-worker, a middle aged woman in her 50's, that this is something I struggle with. Considering how confident and assertive she always struck me as, I was shocked when she told me this is also something she's struggled with.

The advice she gave me is to just memorize and practice a few broad statements or reactions that you can pull out of your pocket so to speak when someone is being rude or disrespectful to you. It's not easy if you're someone who's been conditioned to freeze or fawn, but practice helps. Practice saying these things when you're alone. Put up a sticky note next to your bed or on your bathroom mirror with these phrases and practice them when you see them. Practice saying these with a partner or trusted friend, role-play scenarios where you might need to use these phrases.

Here's a few phrases that have worked for me. The nice thing about them is that they tend to shut down the situation rather than escalating, while still letting the aggressor know that you don't find their behavior acceptable.

"Are you okay?"

This works well in professional settings, because it's not like your work place's residential bully can run to HR about you asking if they're okay (but they might if you try to retaliate and give them a taste of their own medicine). However, it still effectively sends the message "I think there's something wrong with your behavior and don't accept it". It's also not likely the response they're expecting, so it'll likely throw them off and prevent further verbal aggression.

"Could you repeat that for me? I didn't catch what you said."

This one is most effective for people you believe to actually have a conscious and might regret what they said if they actually thought about it a little more. I find that often when I do this one, when people repeat the rude/snippy/patronizing/etc thing they either shamefully stumble over their words and show some remorse, or they change altogether what they say. In the off chance they don't regret what they said and end up repeating exactly what they said, this at least buys you some time to think of a better reaction since you're no longer caught off guard by a sudden rude and snippy remark.

"Can you explain what you mean by that?"

Similar logic to the last one. Often when people are being rude/snippy/patronizing/etc they're caught up in their own emotions in that moment and didn't think it through. This is a polite and civil way of putting their rude behavior in the spotlight and making them reconsider what they said. The other advantage to this one is that in case you did misread their intentions and they meant no harm by what they said or did, this gives them an opportunity to clarify that, instead of you just feeling bad over a statement or actions they actually had no ill intentions with.

If anyone has any further examples of reactions / responses / statements that have worked for them, I'd love to hear about them. I'm new to studying the art of how to civilly yet effectively shut down bad behavior from others, so I'm always open to hearing more suggestions.

[sukeruton-san]

A Coffee Heart pt 2

First Next

There's a coffee shop in Gotham that allowed him way more caffeine than Amity allowed. . .

He likes it here he can have 21 shots of expresso and all he got was an eye roll with some grumbling about a guy named Tim and twins, it's great!!

_______________________________________________

___________A table in the far corner______________

Do I have a twin. . .

No seriously does he have an unknown twin cause standing at the register is a guy that looks so much like him, but not exact enough to be a clone.

We both have pitch black hair the same thick and soft kind but his is infinitely more fluffy and wild like his Red Robin look, bright blue eyes with analytical intelligents and slightly unhinged but his are more icey in color and somehow more dead inside,both our body types are small soft and lean with muscle, small waist, and rounded in the hips, shoulders in mid range, but he has more curves with his shape he's also worriedly more skinny to an unhealthy degree even in my standards, face shapes similar but his are little more angle too it, hell even our voices are similar his being softer and a little deeper than mine

What made me really catch my attention was the fact that he's coffee intake is just as death inducing as mine maybe even more deadly. Hes eye bags are worse then mine from what I can see from here which is across the fucking room.

So I have reasonably concluded that he is my twin. I mean there was a popular rumor that Janite was pregnant with twins and gave one up to adoption as soon they came out with how big she got. Maybe it was true when I am look at someone who has to be related to me.

Though this begs the question where he has been the entire time, He may be visiting with how he has an Midwestern accent but he also holds himself like an Gotham native.

hnmmmmmm. . .

What's he doing?. . .

He's comING OVER HERE ABORT ABORT ABO-

_______________________________________________

"Um you mind if I sit here for a little all the tables are full"

Why he look familiar? Have I seen him before? . . .

Wait that's Timothy Drake-Wayne Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises, I only know him because of the research binge for the Gothampedia and Tucker's fanboying.

He probably wants some privacy. . .

Probably to relax a little bit and be normal if he's just drinking some coffee in the back corner, alone. He looks nervous as hell too probably don't want any unwanted attention brought to himself, I sure as hell know the feeling

" No it's fine you can sit here "

Is it just me or does he look a little eager

" Cool I'm Danny by the way " sitting and taking a sip of his coffee he notices that Tim seems to be in some sort of dilemma with himself finally he asked

" So you happen to be around and about here often?" He drinks his own coffee

" No, just found this little shop" he cringed a little "I was draged here because my parents wanted to work on something here"

Tim Slightly invested slightly worried " What are they working on?"

" They uhh want to 'help make Gotham more prepared for dangers that may arise in the haunting world' their words not mine"tilting his head slightly to the left "to be fair I think the bats have all that covered, no need to interfere and cause more problems than what it's worth" grumbling under his breath " Don't want them to get on the bats radar cuz they are doing reckless shit and I have to clean it up"

_______________________________________________

Tim is slightly panicking now who are his twins adopted parents and why are they wanting to 'prepared for dangers that may arise in the haunting world'?

What does the haunting world mean?

What does he mean by causing more problems?

Are his parents escaped midwestern rouges or something?

Does he need to do a welfare check on him as Red Robin?

Also he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear that last part but that's just making him more worried.

How reckless can they get?

How many times has he had to clean up their messes?

What does he do. . .

(Thank you for helping me with the idea for the next chapter @ghostlysuitnight )

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Drunk words, sober thoughts

A/N: Another entry for the amazing @elixirfromthestars ‘s Writing Challenge. Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you’ve enjoyed reading this!

Pairing: Logan x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ fluff. Drink responsibly kids.

Prompts used: 🥪 ✩｡⋆⸜ "Do I need to remind you that we're not actually married?"

Hugh Jackman/Logan Masterlist

Haze.

That was all your brain could comprehend. How you’d gotten yourself to this point was still obscure. But a rapidly diminishing rational part of your brain was sure your drink had been spiked.

It wasn't how the evening was supposed to go. Not at all. You were on a mission, albeit it was your first official one, it couldn't have gone any worse. The team carried out their respective tasks flawlessly while you - the rookie, were going to be in big trouble once they'd realized you had screwed up.

Deep down you were hoping Logan - your pretend husband for the evening would come and find you, rather rescue you. As you were cornered by a few men that were way too tall and burly to escape, you vaguely felt the comms from your ear been taken off, your limbs felt like jelly.

Were you being kidnapped? Where were your teammates? More importantly, where was Logan?

Any attempt to protest was silenced when they taped your mouth, taking you away from the banquet hall and towards a deserted alley. Before the men could shove you in their car, you felt their grip on you loosen, the familiar chink of metal claws being unleashed and a fight ensued.

It must've ended pretty quickly, or you were experiencing time gaps thanks to the drugs coursing through your bloodstream, but you felt a light but persistent tap against your cheek and a concerned looking Logan Howlett in your line of vision.

"Are you alright, bub? Y/N? Can you hear me?" he called, worry clear in his baritone.

"Mm?" You shook your head in a violent no, quickly realizing it was a bad move as your world shifted, making you dizzy.

You closed your eyes tight and tried to pull yourself together, failing to do so while Logan caught up with the rest of the team. They deciphered you'd had more than your fair share of alcohol given your state, and decided it was best to get you home. Logan had also picked up a smell that was definitely not your regular alcohol, probably the reason why you were so out of it, he'd realized. The team was concerned but probably not as much as the man before you.

A comforting mix of steady hands and a scent that was distinctly Logan enveloped you and lifted you off the ground and into a car.

"Ay! Look it's my husband!" You exclaimed loud enough to make Logan pull a face as he helped fasten your seatbelt.

“How are drunk are you?” He gave you a glance as the car pulled away from the venue, his brows furrowing when he saw you lean over to his side with a lazy grin on your face.

“Can I kiss you?”

“A lot, okay.”

With a firm grip on your shoulders, he made you lay back against the car, letting the back of his hand against your forehead that was slightly warm to touch. He was relieved to have found you before anything worse could happen, especially when your powers were compromised. Unbeknownst to you, Logan had developed some what of a soft spot for you. Not that he'd ever admit, but he found himself drawn to you more and more each passing day. For someone so seemingly fearless, he was terrified of confessing his feelings towards you.

It wasn't long until you found yourself in Logan's arms once again, this time with him carrying you up the school stairs towards your bedroom.

"I mean you could've carried us all the way across the threshold. Wait through the main door, did you—" You giggled mostly to yourself but with Logan and his sharp hearing, it was hard to ignore.

“Do I need to remind you that we're not actually married?" He mused with a faint hint of a smile on his rugged features. Unable to stop his chuckle at your adorable little pout, he gently set you down to your bed, hovering above you for a minute too long.

“We can’t leave the bed now. The pillows have accepted us.” You sighed dreamily, patting the place next to you for Logan to join.

Under any other circumstances, it would’ve been impossible to resist your offer, but you weren’t the right state of mind, and Logan was nothing if not a perfect gentleman.

“Get some rest, kid. You’re in for one hell of a hangover tomorrow.” Logan let his thumb caress the soft skin of your cheek, his eyes mapping your beautiful features.

He’d already made a mental note to get proper meds for you to help get the drugs out of your system. Just as he was about to close the door behind him and leave, he heard you mumble something else. He would’ve let it go, but the words that came out of your mouth nearly made his heart stop.

“What was that, bub?”

“Love you, Logan..” you mumbled against your pillow, clutching one tightly to your chest as sleep took over finally.

“Love you too. More than you’d ever know.” He smiled, finally saying it out loud, albeit not to you directly, felt good. He walked happy knowing you probably shared the sentiment.

Like they said, drunk words, sober thoughts.

[blueraith]

"How could Vi not notice her sister is suicidal?!"

I feel like people who ask this question have a fundamentally immature understanding of depression and suicidal thoughts/actions, and how the two affect people OUTSIDE of the person suffering from these conditions. Perhaps you guys are young, and you don't know how to view this matter outside of yourselves and your own perception, but it is tragically common for people to miss seemingly "obvious" details that lead up to a loved one's suicide. "I didn't notice anything was wrong" is about one of the most common refrains you'll hear after the fact.

Let’s also remember that Vi does not actually know all of Jinx's emotional tells or signs of an impending episode. She is confused each and every time Jinx goes through one and almost always unintentionally triggers her. This because it's been SEVEN FUCKING YEARS since they've seen, spoken to, or lived together.

Neither Jinx or Vi actually know the current versions of each other very well, it's one of the reasons they keep hurting each other, and part of the tragedy of their relationship.

Look, I have depression. I've had it since I was about 15 or so. I can recall self-isolating or worse and assuming my parents or friends or a teacher would notice and rush to my aid or something.

Never happened. Because depression isn't always a very obvious condition. People mask in different ways, and not always with the conscious intention to hide their symptoms. Sometimes, people with depression mask simply because it makes it slightly easier to get through the day. Jinx's case would likely be even more difficult to spot because of the manic side of her condition.

I ended up getting the bulk of my care taken care of as an adult. Mostly because I could finally advocate for myself and I also realized that NO ONE is going to notice the more alarming symptoms of my own depression better than me.

This is not to say that you can't have a support network. Or that members of that support network WON'T spot something you've overlooked from time-to-time.

But Vi is not Jinx's support network. (Arguably Sevika is far better placed for that.) She might have gotten there eventually if Act 2 hadn't ended the way that it had, but that dream of the sisters being able to recreate their lost family was shattered and the progress they were making in getting to know each other halted at Jinx's realization that she needed to leave for Vi to move on.

I don't know, it's like some of you expect everyone in your lives or in other, unrelated media to have a 13 Reasons Why style reaction any time someone shows symptoms of suicidal thoughts or actions, or when one occurs. This is almost an absurd thing to expect out of anyone unfamiliar with what depression or suicidal thoughts actually look like. Like, if you're American, this idea that everyone everywhere is familiar with what a mental health crisis looks like is even more tragically farcical because we can't even admit that poor mental health is an aspect of mass shootings here as a society and culture.

And y'all expect the ex-con stuffed into a box since the age of 15 or so to be able to just instantly spot that her sister--again whose symptoms she's very obviously not familiar with--is going through a crisis event?

Like, damn, no one in this fandom is cut more slack than Jinx, and this entire criticism of Vi makes that more clear than any other. It's a position ironically devoid of any and all empathy, probably because y'all spent it all on Jinx, and assumes a sort of selfishness and coldness towards Vi that is in no way, shape, or form supported by canon.

It's honestly an argument that I dismiss entirely the moment a person attempts to make it. Largely because I am exhausted of how hypocritical this aspect of the famdom becomes towards Vi. Jinx's actions are a large part of the reason Vi sinks into alcoholism. She then proceeds to taunt Vi about it in the mines as if Vi's pain is nothing to her.

I NEVER hear anyone talk about that. It's almost always about how Vi should have done better. How Vi hurt Jinx. How Vi wasn't good enough.

It's some Grade A, Bonafide Bullshit™

Vi and Jinx were never going to ride off into the sunset together. If that is something you thought was going to happen and are now irrationally blaming Vi for because you're disappointed....? I don't know what to tell you. I personally thought it was pretty obvious that they were Doomed Siblings in this storyline and any potential, permanent reconciliation between them may happen in some far off sequel project or not at all.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Yet, you cannot. Because you can’t find the damn book anywhere. You are sure the compilation of histories of Old Valyria Daemon had given you has to be in your rooms.

Honestly. If I lost my book, my favorite book,my favorite book gifted to me by my father, my favorite book gifted to me by my father because he said I was the only child of his who could inherit it, I would fucking crash out and be inconsolable for life

You feel torn. Cregan and you are getting along now, but you still hesitate going to him with your troubles. Not only you had leftover guilt even though you have both chosen to move on from your rivalry, you also prided yourself on being independent. 

Your pride will be the death of you. Unfortunately I feel you. I'm going to write a song about this

Asking him or anyone for help always makes you feel uncomfortable. You didn’t want others to perceive you as weak. 

Still. What if he thinks less of you for being careless with your things? Or if he thinks you are being overly sentimental to get this worked up over a book? 

Girl

Worse, what if he thinks you are accusing him of stealing? 

GIRL STOP YOURE JUMPING INTO LAVA FOR NO FUCKING REASON?????

[...] to love is to be humbled, it seems. 

Stealing this. it's so fucking stupid of her what the fuck

“You always may, wife.”

THE WAY I SCREAMMMMMMMED

“I enjoy how my colors look on you.” Cregan rumbles, a pleased smile forming on his face. Today, you are wearing one of the warmest dresses you own, in a pale gray. It’s made of velvet, and you enjoy how it feels over your skin. You had commissioned it after you arrived at Winterfell, using the generous pocket money that Cregan allowed you. 

“You.” And it’s said with such disarming honesty, you do not know what to say.

NRJDSJSNN RIZZLER ALERT

Secretly, it pleases you that he remembers what you had been reading last week.

Not be. Me at cregan after this

This is my cats kitten btw.

“I cannot find it.” You whine, losing your battle with the tears. “My book. It’s really important that I find it.” 

I would simply cry too. Bestie....

“Shh… I know. I have been unkind to you.” [...] “I took your book.” 

🧍‍♀️ he fucking what? I don't... I don't know how I feel... I'm upset ????

While grief and self-doubt do not chase him as much as they chase you, he is still a widower with a wife who despised him at first. 

Let's be broken together

The nerve of those Hightowers knew no bounds. What was next? Demanding a Sept be built in Wintertown for those false gods of theirs? 

HAHAHHAAHAHHHAHA FALSE GODS IS SO FUNNY GOES HARD

And if that wasn’t enough to make his day terrible, during the afternoon Cregan had received an outraged Sara. Apparently, for some unknown reason, she had received an offer to become Lady Cerwin And for another unknown reason, it was the most terrible fate. Ever. 

SKKSJSNSJ SARA GIVE IN TO YOUR PLOT STOP STRESSING UR BROTHER

“I think I will place my princess here. And a dragon here.” You explain, as if you are building some great castle. Rickon stares, transfixed by you. Cregan understands the feeling all too well. He remembers the weight of you in his lap, the warmth of your skin against him, your smell. He has been unable to get the memory out of his mind in days. 

HALA MY STARKS ARE LOVING EACH OTHER I

You feel nerves creep up on you. Cregan never summons you. When he wants your company, he simply appears near you or waits for a meal to invite you to spend time with him. 

HE SIMPLY APPEARSSSSS JWKKSKSKSKA I WANT HIM I WANT HIMMMM DKKDKDMS

When you step inside, it is as if you are stepping inside your storybook. The walls are covered with tapestries depicting some of the prettier illustrations, priestesses wearing amethysts, dragons of shining ivory, lovers holding hands. 

BESTIEEEEEE HE WAHHHHAT

“You did this… for me?” Your hands tremble as you set the table alight. All the known world, on display for you. In a war table. It is only then that it registers.  

.... I know that she's emotional and in disbelief but

???? NO BESTIE HE DID IT FOR HIS UNCLE WOULD YOU FUCKING BELIEVE???? GIGGGGILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

You have been blind, you realize, as you look at your book come to life in this room. The man who had given it to you had shown you that one could form a family with a widow and cherish their sons as if they were your own.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 DAEMON BEING A GOOD DAD BLUEPRINT MAKES ME SO SOFT DAEMON MY SHAYLAAAAAAA

“Dear Jacaerys, I want you to know that I am completely, perfectly, incandescently happy…”

MR DARCYYYYYY?????

IM GLAD THAT SHES FINALLY SPOKEN TO JACEEEE

CRISTIII THIS WAS INCREDIBLE ARE YOU KIDDING MEEE????? IM SO HAPPY SO PROUD OF YOU FOR FINISHING YOUR SERIES. ME SOON TORMENTED SPIRIT PLEASE END FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD SHE STILL GOING

I lovveeee cregan so much I love the surprise so much I LOVE HOW YOU ENDED IT. IM SO SATISFIED. MY PETTY ASS ALL FIGHTS TO HAVE AN ANGST ENDING WHEN THERES ANGST BUT YOU SWAYED ME AND I WANT THEM ONLY TO HAVE FLUFF FOREVER AND EVER AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BECAUSE WHO ELSE COULD DO THAT BUT YOU. AM I SO VERY GREEDY TO ASK MORE? ANYWAY TAG ME NEXT FIC OK OK I LOVE YOU BYE AHHHH

Summer (Cregan Stark x Reader)

Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?

A/N: I can finally wrap up my romcom! Big romantic gesture ahead. Check the masterlist of this series here, if you are new. And to my lovely, lovely readers, thank you for staying wityh me during this madness.

Warnings: My anxious introverted reader being anxious (Shocker) Cregan has self-doubts. Mature language.

YOU ARE HAVING a terrible day. It surprises you because that doesn’t happen as often any longer. Today, you would rather not talk to anyone, much less Cregan, whose hovering would only serve to make you more anxious. Today, you want to crawl under the covers with your comfort book and pretend to be dead. 

Yet, you cannot. Because you can’t find the damn book anywhere. You are sure the compilation of histories of Old Valyria Daemon had given you has to be in your rooms.

You have pulled open all your desk’s drawers, checked the bedside table twice, checked the bed, even beneath it. Not even your chest with linens was spared. It’s nowhere. 

With little choices left, you have begun searching the nursery too, but haven’t quite mastered the courage to search Cregan’s solar. You remember taking the book alongside you to read as you kept him company sometimes, but do not recall leaving it there. 

You feel torn. Cregan and you are getting along now, but you still hesitate going to him with your troubles. Not only you had leftover guilt even though you have both chosen to move on from your rivalry, you also prided yourself on being independent. 

Asking him or anyone for help always makes you feel uncomfortable. You didn’t want others to perceive you as weak. 

Stop. You are being silly, you tell yourself. It’s not like you are about to ask him to solve your life, you only will inquire if he has seen your book. 

Still. What if he thinks less of you for being careless with your things? Or if he thinks you are being overly sentimental to get this worked up over a book? 

Worse, what if he thinks you are accusing him of stealing? 

You let out a groan. You are overthinking. Your bad days often include a lot of anxiety, and today it is a bad day. A terrible one, that will be worse if you don’t find your beloved book. Determined, you march to Cregan’s solar and knock on his door. 

“Aye?” He calls out, northern accent on full display, and you can’t help that your knees get a little weak.

“Cregan? May I come in?” Suddenly, your bravery and determination have deserted you. Your voice comes out squeaky as a mouse. By the Fourteen Flames, to love is to be humbled, it seems. 

“You always may, wife.” You wince at being addressed as such. You suppose it’s a good thing he isn’t calling you by your full title any longer. 

Pushing open the door, you step inside. Cregan is seated on his desk, a frown on his face. He is squinting at some maps, in the way he sometimes does. His frown softens when he sees you, standing on the door. 

“I enjoy how my colors look on you.” Cregan rumbles, a pleased smile forming on his face. Today, you are wearing one of the warmest dresses you own, in a pale gray. It’s made of velvet, and you enjoy how it feels over your skin. You had commissioned it after you arrived at Winterfell, using the generous pocket money that Cregan allowed you. 

You had to give it to the man. No matter how annoying you had been at first, he had never been tight-fisted with your allowance. 

“Thank you.” You feel your cheeks heating up, and fight the urge to fan your face. What you don’t manage to fight is the urge to preen under his gaze. 

Cregan chuckles. You narrow your eyes at him. Is he mocking you? He lifts his hands in surrender, attuned as he is to your moods. 

“Apologies. It’s cute, that’s all.” 

“The dress?” 

“You.” And it’s said with such disarming honesty, you do not know what to say. You search his face, yet his expression is so open, so fond, no hint of mockery can be found. It’s…  Cregan must be thinking of her, for sure. That expression doesn’t mean anything. “What were you here for?”

You clear your throat. 

“Um. I was… I lost my book.” 

“What book?” Cregan asks, shifting his maps aside. He is clearing his desk, you realize. “The one about the conquest?” 

“No, not that one.” Your voice turns shyer still. Secretly, it pleases you that he remembers what you had been reading last week. “It has a brown leather cover and the title is in gold.” 

“The one in High Valyrian?” And his tone is casual. Far too casual. You begin to worry that your book might have met its end. You look him in the eyes, but find little there. Cregan has an impeccable blank face. He gives nothing away. “Check the selves. Maybe it is there.” 

You turn around and begin doing so. But the more titles you check, the more nervous you become. Cregan is an organized man, his books are carefully separated by subject. The servants know to keep to his order, when he rarely leaves them lying around. 

Your book would stand out. You know it. A tight knot of anxiety begins to settle on your stomach. As you reach the lower shelves, you feel tears gathering in your lash line. You cannot believe you are about to cry over a book. 

Cregan will never love you. He will go right back into thinking you are some soft southron, with no spine. No one cries over books. He will think you are ridiculous. 

Despite your back being to him, he seems to sense something is wrong.

“Love? Is everything alright?” 

“I cannot find it.” You whine, losing your battle with the tears. “My book. It’s really important that I find it.” 

You hear him get up, and walk closer to you. He hugs you from behind, holding you to him. 

“Shh… I know. I have been unkind to you.” You are confused about his words, but not enough that you reject the comfort of his embrace. Cregan is warm against your back, and smells faintly of parchment and leather. There is something herbal clinging to his skin, too. His smell and his size make you feel safe. He is tall enough that his form covers yours completely.“I took your book.” 

You flinch. Your hackles begin to rise. Your sadness leaves, clouded by absolute wrath.  

“What?” 

“I wanted to gift you something. It’s being copied by the Maester as we speak. I wanted it to be a surprise, I know how much you love it.” He nuzzles your neck, and it pacifies you slightly. The prospect of a gift entices you, especially if it is a copy of your favorite book. Perhaps Cregan will have it nicely bound.  “I regret it now. Knowing how much you love it, I should have known it would upset you.”

“I wanted to read it today.” You complain, still sad. It has been an awful day for you. “I do not feel so well.” 

“Of course, sweetling.” Cregan drops a kiss to your crown. “I’ll have it delivered to you. Would you mind lending it to me tomorrow? You can recall it anytime during the day if you need it, like now.” 

“Alright.” You whisper, softly. Cregan gathers you in his arms again, and moves the two of you to the loveseat. There, he settles you in his lap. He takes of his cloak and drapes it over you. This way, you are fully surrounded by his warmth and smell.

He calls a servant. True to his word, the book is back in your hands in less than half an hour. You spend the rest of the afternoon reading in his lap. 

Suddenly, your bad day doesn’t seem so bad. 

WHEN HE FEELS like an inconsiderate brute, Cregan tries to think happier thoughts. While grief and self-doubt do not chase him as much as they chase you, he is still a widower with a wife who despised him at first. 

Often, gazing upon Rickon or you is enough to help him feel more settled. More at peace with himself. His son is well adapted enough, he reasons, as he sees him run around the courtyard. You do not despise him, he thinks, as you curl by his side. 

Today, neither is working. Rickon and you are together, a picture that normally would serve to pull him out from his brooding. Of course, since Rickon is on the floor wailing, it isn’t quite working. 

Cregan has a headache. The pain is spreading from his jaw, towards his cheekbones, and from there turning into sharp icicles that feel like they are being stabbed in his skull. 

The day has been long. He had ridden out at dawn to deal with some wildings near Wintertown, and then had to answer his correspondence. The dammed Greens would not stop pestering him to switch sides and hand you over, alternating between threats and flattery. 

As if the Starks were some miserable turncloaks who betrayed their oaths. As if Cregan would just hand over his wife to some usurping cunts. 

The nerve of those Hightowers knew no bounds. What was next? Demanding a Sept be built in Wintertown for those false gods of theirs? 

And if that wasn’t enough to make his day terrible, during the afternoon Cregan had received an outraged Sara. Apparently, for some unknown reason, she had received an offer to become Lady Cerwin And for another unknown reason, it was the most terrible fate. Ever. 

Rickon keeps screaming. He has been that way for a while. Cregan had been alone with him, watching him play on the rug with his blocks, when he had started crying and wouldn’t stop. 

Cregan had tried picking him up, rocking him, walking him back and forth, but nothing helped. One of the servants must have heard and alerted you because you had appeared looking disgruntled.

You had been in the middle of your quiet time, as Cregan enjoyed calling it. Awkward Princesses who hated socializing needed time to recover from hearing petitions during the day. He had realized so when he started teaching you to pass judgement. 

As the time for Cregan to march south to defend your mother’s claim became more imminent, he was giving you more and more responsibilities in Winterfell. That way, you would be prepared to hold the North when he left. Prepared to protect his Kingdom and his son. 

“Tower! Tower!” Rickon wails, as you pick him. Your face is as tired a Cregan feels. His head is heavy. He cannot stand Rickon screaming any longer. By the gods, Cregan is a terrible father. He cannot even calm his son when he needs him. After his many attempts to calm him down were unsuccessful, he had just set him down. 

“What’s the matter, sweet boy?” You ask, holding Rickon close to your heart. Rickon continues to cry. You meet Cregan’s eyes over his son’s head. 

Cregan shrugs. He is unsure of what triggered the tantrum. 

“Shh, all is well. I get overwhelmed too, sometimes.” You say, and Cregan gets the feeling you are talking to him and not to Rickon. “But we can’t rebuild your tower if you are getting all wiggly.”  

This is about the building blocks, Cregan realizes. He feels like a terrible father. A failure. 

Bennard’s words come to mind once more. How can you govern the North if you can’t govern yourself? You failed.

Your swordsmanship is poor, and you still are a pup crying for your parents. You cannot rule. 

He had heard a variation of those words for years, every time he had tried to push his claim. And look, Cregan knows he is not a poor swordsman, and he has tried his best to rule. Men don’t cry, but he does it occasionally. Rarely. His tears never dry out, no matter how old he grows, but it is the only thing of Bennard’s words that came true. That isn’t so bad, is it? 

You have settled on the floor, Rickon on your lap. He still cries, but he has stopped shrieking. You have started building a tower on your own. 

“I think I will place my princess here. And a dragon here.” You explain, as if you are building some great castle. Rickon stares, transfixed by you. Cregan understands the feeling all too well. He remembers the weight of you in his lap, the warmth of your skin against him, your smell. He has been unable to get the memory out of his mind in days. 

It would be pleasant, a session of cuddling with his wife, were it not for the circumstances that lead up to it. All Cregan’s fault. 

“A shame you want to keep crying and won’t help. I suppose I shall have to ask your father to play with me.” Your eyes are coy. You give Cregan a glance, and his lips form a smile despite himself. Of course you would try bribery. 

Of course, it works. Rickon picks up the first block, still sniffling. 

“No! Father isn't a Princess. You are!” 

“You are right, Rickon.” You agree, as if it were the most natural thing. “Silly me. He is a wolf. We should build him a Wolfswood.” 

And so, Rickon forgets his tantrum, settled by your gentle touch and encouraging words. And Cregan’s heart soars. 

“MILADY, LORD STARK wishes for your company.” One of the serving girls says, eyes downcasted. You pause in your perusal of the granary, making a quick note on your ledger. As the Lady of Winterfell, it falls to you to ensure the castle has supplies enough for winter, or so Cregan says. You find the Northern’s obsession with the season a bit much, but considering little grows here, you too would feel better knowing you have enough grain if something happens. 

“Right now?” Considering he had been the one to send you on this errand, it confuses you a little. He must have known taking stock of the granary would take you all day. 

“As soon as you can come. It’s not urgent, but he wishes to see you soon.” 

You feel nerves creep up on you. Cregan never summons you. When he wants your company, he simply appears near you or waits for a meal to invite you to spend time with him. 

You can’t help it. War and grief had frayed your nerves. These days, you feel like everything could be a sign of bad news. 

It’s not urgent, you repeat to yourself. It’s not urgent, it’s not urgent, you chant in your head, but your steps towards the inside of Winterfell are hurried. 

The castle is unusually quiet. The maid guides you to one of the unused wings of the castle, one near Cregan’s rooms. You have never asked, but you know these were the rooms his uncle used to inhabit when trying to usurp him. The man had never dared taking the lord’s rooms from Cregan, lingering near instead, a feeling you understand too well. 

Your husband is a formidable man. You wouldn’t want to cross him, either. 

The serving girl hesitates when the two of you reach a big oaken door. 

“What is it?” You ask her, with a frown. “Why do you linger?”

She doesn’t answer. She simply shoots you a shy smile. Annoyed at her shyness, you push the door open yourself. Your breath catches. 

When you step inside, it is as if you are stepping inside your storybook. The walls are covered with tapestries depicting some of the prettier illustrations, priestesses wearing amethysts, dragons of shining ivory, lovers holding hands. 

The room is decorated in understated creams and golds, the furniture made of the finest woods. Despite the themes of the decoration, it is clearly meant to be a Lady’s solar, even if not attached to your rooms. 

There is a soft, woven carpet that cushions your every step. It is made of pure white fur, to combine tastefully with the rest of the decoration. You can already tell it will feel like heaven on your bare feet, even through your boots. It must have cost a fortune. 

Near two, giant windows, a low table sits. It holds a vase very familiar to you, shaped in the form of a dragon. It is filled with winter roses, though you had seen it before in Dragonstone, full of your mother’s favorite flowers. 

There is a fireplace, as it is customary in almost all the rooms in Winterfell. On its mantle, small toys and mementos from your childhood sit. Near the fireplace, a small sitting area awaits, with comfortable looking armchairs and loveseats, and a low table in which a tea set, painted with Valyrian motives, rests. 

There is a desk in a corner, much bigger than yours, and a small bookshelf, that resembles the layout Cregan has in his own solar. It has sparse books, but all of them are in High Valyrian. Your favorite book has a place of honor, right in the middle of the highest shelf. 

Yet, the true star of the room lies on the back of it. There is a huge round table, like the one from your stories, made of sturdy wood, that resembles the one from the war room from Dragonstone. Not only are the Seven Kingdoms featured, but also Essos, Sothoryos, the Summer Islands and even Great Moraq. Cregan is in the middle of lighting the table, struggling with how one is supposed to do it. 

“How..?” You babble, astonished. To assemble this… You understand now why he had needed your book so many times. The time and care put into building this room, so delightfully whimsical yet honoring your culture at the same time… Your eyes prickle with tears. 

“We can send it back.” Cregan says, alarmed by your tears. “If you…” 

“No!” You say, with an energy that surprises you. You take the candles from his hands and begin lighting the table the proper way. “This is… My home. And my book.”

Cregan’s face is uncharacteristically unsure.

"I hoped it would remind you of where you came from. Of whom you are. A Princess of Dragonstone. My Princess.” 

“You did this… for me?” Your hands tremble as you set the table alight. All the known world, on display for you. In a war table. It is only then that it registers.  

Cregan is willing to go to war for you. Kill in your name. Lay the whole world at your feet.  You have to grip the back of one of the chairs as to not fall down, knees weak. 

“I know you are far from home. And I haven’t… We haven’t always been on the best terms, but you never shied away from your duties. I wanted to give you something that was about you.” 

“I never thought you saw me.” You whisper. “I… I owe you an apology. For everything. For insulting you, when I arrived, for speaking of Lady Arra, for… For not seeing you either, at first.” 

You have been blind, you realize, as you look at your book come to life in this room. The man who had given it to you had shown you that one could form a family with a widow and cherish their sons as if they were your own.

Daemon wasn't a kind man, but he was loyal to family. You were far kinder. If he could do it, and be happy, so could you.

“There is no need to apologize to me.” Cregan gathers you in his arms, and presses a kiss to your lips. His own are chapped from the cold, yet the only thing you feel is his warmth. And for two people as different as winter and summer, you find that your bodies do understand each other. 

It takes Cregan but a week to convince you after that. The first letter you write in your new desk begins as it follows: 

“Dear Jacaerys, I want you to know that I am completely, perfectly, incandescently happy…”

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Teacher's Pet Baby

Shopping Trip

Cg!Professor!Wanda Maximoff x little!student!reader

Summary: Wanda offers to take you out on a shopping trip

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Age regression, mild anxiety, emotional vulnerability, fluff and comfort

Authors notes: Thank you my little ghost for sending in this request here~

Also, to all the littles, seeing this, please tred lightly on this blog! This is my big 18+ blog, but I do have some little!reader fics. Everything is marked accordingly!

You're nervous when Wanda suggests it after asking she'd only known about you being little for a week when she asked,

"Do you have any gear?" It was an innocent enough question she asked in the empty room of her class while she graded papers and you did some homework.

"Gear?" Your head tilted slightly, not looking up from your own book and notebook. 

"Little gear. I know you have your crayons and coloring book and your favorite stuffie you showed me pictures of, but is there anything else?" 

"Oh...um no...I left most things back at home." You absentmindedly tugged at your sleeve, pulling it over your hand to put it in your mouth slightly. It was a bad habit you’d long since tried to get rid of.

"Well how about this Saturday we go get some things?" She offers casually like it was something the two of you had done before. Like it was something so simple.

"I can't keep them at my dorm...my roommates will say something..." you felt your chest tighten. You knew if any of them found out about it they’d probably kick you out of the dorm. Probably call the dean on you or something, but just as your thoughts started to spiral, Wanda spoke up again.

"It can stay at my place and you can come and go as you please baby for whatever you want or need." Now there's a knot in your stomach. 

“Y-your place?” You hadn't been over to her place. The only place you two had spent time together was here in this classroom. 

“Do you not want that? I understand if you'd rather keep it here between us.” 

You knew being with a professor at all would be frowned upon even if it was something like this…for some reason in your brain this felt even worse than if you were having sex with her. You shook your head to get rid of the thoughts. sure you were big right now, but it's only been a week and you two haven't discussed anything beyond her being Mama.

Wanda let you sit with the idea, her eyes flicking between your face and the paper she was grading, letting you process in your own time. You weren’t sure what made your stomach twist more—her casual offer or the realization that you wanted to say yes.

“I…” You hesitated, gripping your pen a little too tightly. “I don’t know.”

Wanda hummed softly, setting her pen down. “That’s okay, baby. You don’t have to decide right now.” Her voice was gentle, patient, like she had all the time in the world for you. “I just want to make sure you have what you need. Somewhere safe for your things and a space where you can just be.”

A part of you wanted that so badly. The idea of a place where you didn’t have to hide, where you didn’t have to worry about judgment, where your things wouldn’t have to stay tucked away in the back of your closet or hidden under your bed—it was tempting. But this was still so new.

Your hands fidgeted with the corner of your notebook. “I just… I don’t want to be a burden,” you admitted quietly, barely above a whisper.

Wanda leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at you. “Oh, Malyshka,” she murmured, shaking her head. “You could never be a burden to me. This isn’t about me doing you a favor—it’s about giving you what you need. Making sure you’re cared for. That’s what being your Mama means.”

Your heart clenched at that, the sincerity in her voice making it hard to breathe for a moment. You’d never had a caregiver before, you didn’t know everything. You knew what you saw on the internet; all those posts of imagines with a caregiver that made you feel something was now here in front of you. You swallowed thickly, nodding slowly. “Okay,” you whispered, finally glancing up at her.

Wanda’s smile was soft and full of warmth, like she was proud of you for even considering it. “Okay,” she echoed, reaching across the desk to gently squeeze your hand. “We’ll take it slow, baby. Just one step at a time.”

You nodded again, still nervous, still unsure—but with Wanda, you felt safe enough to try.

It was about an hour later when you spoke a simple, "Yes." Aloud that Wanda smiled. 

"Okay well how about we meet up here and we'll take a drive out so we're far away from others? Does that sound good?" She asks, finally looking at you. You felt her sea glass green eyes on you. You looked up to meet her eyes, suddenly feeling small. 

"Yes Mama, that sounds good.”

Wanda’s smile softened, her eyes full of warmth as she heard you call her Mama again. She reached over, brushing a strand of hair from your face with gentle fingers. “Good girl,” she praised softly. The simple words made your chest feel warm, a little fluttery even, but you still shifted in your seat, feeling shy.

She chuckled, recognizing the way you squirmed under her gaze. “We don’t have to rush, Malyshka. Just a nice, quiet drive. A little shopping. No pressure, okay?”

You nodded, chewing your lip. “Okay.”

Wanda leaned back in her chair, a satisfied look on her face as she picked up her grading again. But every so often, you caught her glancing at you, like she was just making sure you were okay. It made something in you settle, knowing that even when she wasn’t speaking, she was still paying attention.

You went back to your own work, but your mind kept drifting to Saturday—what it would be like, how it would feel to have things again, to pick them out with someone who actually understood. The idea was nerve-wracking but also… really exciting.

✎✐ ✎ ✐ ✎ ✐

The drive was peaceful, just you and Wanda, the hum of the road beneath the tires filling the silence between songs playing softly on the radio. Wanda let you control the music, occasionally glancing over at you with a smile as you mouthed the lyrics or tapped your fingers against your thigh. It made her heart swell knowing you felt comfortable enough to just be with her.

When she finally pulled into the parking lot, you felt your stomach twist with nervous energy. This wasn’t just any store—it was a town far enough away that no one from campus would see you, giving you the freedom to pick out what you needed without fear of judgment.

Wanda grabbed a cart, and the two of you walked in together. At first, everything felt normal as you strolled through the grocery aisles. Wanda picked up some snacks, her fingers grazing over brands you had mentioned growing up with. “How about these, Malyshka?” she asked, holding up a box of animal crackers.

You felt a small grin tug at your lips as you nodded. “Yeah, those are good.”

From there, she guided you toward the baby and toddler section. The moment you stepped into the aisle, your heart started beating faster. Your fingers twitched as you looked over the selection—things you hadn’t let yourself have in years.

Wanda was patient, watching as you hesitated before slowly reaching out to touch a pack of toddler fruit pouches. “These are good,” she encouraged. “Easy to have when you don’t want to use a spoon.”

You swallowed hard and placed them in the cart. One by one, Wanda helped you pick out what you needed—plates and bowls with cute designs, a sippy cup that felt just right in your hands, even a bath toy set shaped like little sea animals.

When you reached the bedding aisle, she let you run your fingers over the different sets, waiting patiently for you to make your choice. Your heart ached a little as you settled on one with soft pastel stars and moons. It felt safe.

Finally, she led you to the toy section. “Alright, Malyshka,” she said softly. “You’ve been so good and so brave today. Pick out a toy, anything you want.”

You hesitated at first, shifting on your feet as your eyes scanned the shelves. It felt overwhelming—like you shouldn’t be here, like you were doing something wrong. But Wanda was right beside you, her presence grounding you.

After a few moments, your eyes landed on a plush bunny with floppy ears and the softest fur you’d ever seen. You picked it up, hugging it to your chest without thinking.

Wanda smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “That’s a very good choice, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks burned as you nodded, gripping the bunny tightly as she led you to the checkout. Wanda handled everything, paying without a second thought, and once you were back in the car, she handed you the bunny again.

“You did so well today,” she murmured, squeezing your knee affectionately.

You hugged the bunny close and whispered, “Thank you, Mama.”

And in that moment, you knew—you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[opal-owl-flight]

John. John Splatoon. The man, the goofball the sweetest man youll see. Chatty, bubbly, and gives really good team morale.

But things arent all sweet.

I wonder if he shuts himself up when he feels hes being *too* jolly.

His family is kind. Its not their fault. Yknow how people are fucking mean to those who are very excited abt things.

I think he had an experience like that. Tanara was thankfully there when things started getting really bad.

John was made fun of when he first started turfing. He was just sooo excited abt it all. So enthusiastic!! He studied abt the greats, the top players, all that. And the bitchass mean kids thought itd be funny to crush his dreams.

They made fun of him when he rambles abt strategy. They mocked him whenever he tries to be a hero and gets fucking splatted for it (OH GEE, IF HIS TEAMMATES WERE ACTUALLY *HELPING* HIM HE WOULDNT HAVE GOTTEN GOT).

One time I think some bastard jammed his weapon so it was unusuable for a while, and he was unable to turf.

"Good riddance," the team had said. "That beak is finally quiet for once."

Tanara saw this happening and decided to stand up for him.

They saw this boy getting picked on, and didnt hesitate in open firing at the bastards. Didnt care if theyll get banned for a week for firing a weapon off the field.

"|Hey, are you the guy who cornered me in the last match? Color me impressed.|"

Tanara doesnt stand for bullies. Ever. They hate seeing these kinds of people in the leagues. They hate the fact that these nutjobs are so good at the game!!! they want to make the leagues a fun place for everyone. None of this fuckinh bullshit. From a young age theyve already defended others. Wanted to make a better world where everyone can just be who they wanted to be, grow into their best selves.

The orange squid was a big help. With them actually recognizing his talent and running by his side,,,

They made him believe in himself. Fuck what everyone else says.

"|We won because of your strategy,|" they sign. "|If it werent for you, we'd have lost the tournament.|"

And hes given a smile of encouragement. Oh, sweet understanding, sweet recognition.

For a tender year they and John built a strong team and friendship. John became this cheery man bc of them.

They helped him stand up for himself. Helped him in the art of not giving a fuck. Or raining retribution where it is applicable (the duo have sent bullies crying after giving fjem say -- a 20 second rainmaker match)

Whenever someone tries to make fun of him in the later years, or now -- even if Tanara is out of the picture bc theyre getting blended -- he will literally ignore the naysayers. Bc he knows. He knows Tanara believes in him. He knows his team believes in him. He knows many others do, as well.

He knows his own capabilities. He knows what his limits. And hes. God, theres a reason hes second in command. Hes smart about the sport. Hes scary on the field. Dont let the goofy attitude fool you. Hes having fun but you on enemy team wont!

Some people are recently saying that Tanara left their old team bc John was lagging too far behind them, that Ink Typh∞n is the natural next step for them.

Dead wrong dipshits. If anything, those two are eye to eye.

If Tanara wasnt forced to retire, theyf still be fighting by his side.

-----------

Ofc its not all perfect. He still shuts down sometimes. Shuts himself up if he gets scared of offending someone/in general.

If he doesnt get reassurance or proves to himself/his naysayers of his own capabilities, he starts going quiet, smiling less.

Those wounds still hurt, Im afraid....

-----------

And what about after Octo Expansion.

What was going through his mind?

Like....this is your best friend. The one who helped you become the man you are. They were your role model. Theyre so strong, so assured. Confident. Ruthless on the turf. So skilled that nothing can faze them. Believed in you like no one else did.

And youre watching them seem to get worse day by day.

Theyre closing up. Theyre not telling you anything. You reach out but they dismiss you. And their colors only get more desaturated with time. They still believe in you, but its clear that theres something bothering them.

You try to share your joy with them, talking about the things you liked. Like old times. It turns out however, that the character you idolized in the media you consume, is them.

And it explains everything.

An entire secret double life and they didnt tell you.

You were their best friend. They were by your side when you struggled to make it in this city. They gave you assurance when your confidence started to fail.

They were your hero.

Where were you then, when they needed one themself?

They slump into John's arms,,

Theyre only older than him by a year. but they feel so,,

They feel so frail. A shadow of how they used to be. A body broken by war, a mind and heart ravaged by worry and vigilance and the weight of the world on their shoulders.

They tell him that they dont want him to take this load. They tell him he doesnt deserve it.

He says he has no plans of getting into this, not directly. He just wants them to come back to him after duty, or allow him to help in any way he can.

He'll just wait by the door, like he always has.

And hes holding them. He wants to keep them there til everything becomes okay again.

[transformers-spike]

Being that I’m sick, I just had a thought. In no shape or form do I think this is any bit accurate lol, but it was a fun thought for me.

So transformers are seen as robots (because they are), but I think it’s more important to look at the alien aspect of them. They are huge mechanical beings. Living machines. Being that they are living machines they don’t exactly get sick like most biological creatures such as humans.

Cybertronian’s suffer more from wounds and other injuries than they do sickness. A Cybertronian getting sick is nearly always a death sentence. This is completely different when it comes to humans. Unlike the giant robots, we get sick often, our bodies constantly healing itself. Cybertronian’s are more equipped to handle fatal wounds than we are. What a small scrap is to them can be deadly to humans.

That being said, transformers kind of are shocked when we can survive a mild fever. Our technology to heal the sick is much more advanced than theirs. Watching a small human get something like a mild flu is really fascinating to them. In a strange way they like seeing the whole healing process of humans getting sick and then better. Our bodies are so much frailer than theirs, yet we can fight of an infection that could potentially wipe out large numbers for them.

When you are sick, expect a lot of touching for no reason. Your body is weak from whatever sickness you have, yet they can’t stop poking and feeling. Your movements are slower and you’re less aware now, in a way it’s cute to them. Strangely enough they’d probably also like the smell of sickness on a human…strange but they’d most likely find it fascinating.

There are some bots I can also see getting turned on by this. More funny than anything especially if it’s someone like Shockwave who finds these biological findings too much for his scientific brain and now wants to jerk his spike over your sleeping body. He’s thinking about how much work your body is putting in to heal itself and just gets a boner or something.

Curious to if you think any other bot would feel about it. Anyway I’ll probably forget I typed any of this up later, sorry for any inaccuracies, im too sick to think correctly 😭😭

goddamn this is so good I am a sucker for a good bot helping their human through their sickness scenario I for one am most interested in them getting a kick for taking care of their human in such an extremely fragile state. While bots like Knock Out will vehemently refuse to hang around you more than he needs to (at least you can call/text him tho) - others are a lot more willing as long as they have the time. TFP Starscream keeps complaining about how long it takes for you to recover, but you still catch him holding you in his servos when he could just as easily leave you in bed. Keeps poking/holding you in this state. Dude, you are making the recovery so much worse Optimus and Soundwave are definitely normal about it - just focusing on keeping you company during your recovery. While others want to drive you around even if you're halfway dead (looking at you Wheeljack)

[lovethyauthors]

AHH OK well now you’ve got me thinking, what if there is no one Reason, what if they’re just stressed and distracted from the day to day of their jobs and just don’t notice how she’s feeling? Or if they do notice they think she needs space to work it out herself? OR WORSE what if they are actually annoyed with how often she checks in on them? Not enough to not want to be with her but just needing some space?

She’d eventually drop the whole break the bond request, though not after some arguing / begging I’m sure, and pretend like it’s ok but would walk away from the conversation CONVINCED she needs to change to keep her team happy. So she sets out to be more like Johnny, minimizing her needs, trying to get by on the bare minimum.

OR she accepts that Price won’t break the bond now so she decides to distance herself to save herself the heartbreak, to make their bond weaker so next time she asks, they’ll be as ready to get rid of her as she thinks they already are.

Either way it’s not a fun time for anyone as the team starts to notice how she’s slipping away, how she’s not their sweet, comforting girl anymore.

Price is confused when days go by and she doesn’t pop into his office once, doesn’t come check on him, doesn’t remind him to take a break and eat if he hasn’t. When he gives in and just calls her to his office, he’s hurt by how she stands by the door, shuffling her feet like she can’t wait to leave, and avoids eye contact at any cost. He wants his warm and bubbly girl back who would walk into his office and plop herself down on his lap like it was her rightful place, who would steal kisses and snuggles while he was filling out paperwork and he doesn’t know what he needs to do to get her back.

Simon has never been chatty, content to always let her drone on about the little things while he listens and chimes in when needed. He doesn’t realize how much he misses her sweet voice and giggles, how much they make him feel normal instead of the monster everyone else assumes he is, until she stops seeking him out. Now, everything she says to him is monotone and soulless, and only ever related to work. She never sticks around for long after she’s said what she needed too, never rewards him with the beaming smile at the end of her words like she used to and he hates it!! He hates that she seems like she’s been turned into a shell of her former self!! He tried to remember what she used to like to talk about, tries to follow up on those conversations, asks her about the things she could’ve ranted about for hours, only to receive a shrug and short answer. Simon doesn’t remember being this anxious trying to have a conversation since he was a child, and after the third time being shut down, he decides he’s had enough and storms in to Price’s office because they need to fix this! It’s tearing their little family apart, even Soap and Gaz are feeling the effects, and he’s had enough!!

Soap and Gaz who’ve tried to be much more gentle only to have her recoil at their smallest touch, always slipping out of their fingers, always having an excuse for why she needed to leave. Soap and Gaz who are torn between watching her leave and following her, not knowing what the right thing to do is in this new world they’ve found themselves in. They look to Ghost and Price for guidance, for leadership, but they’re just as lost, only knowing that they’re loosing her piece by piece.

Mmmmmm I can’t decide if they confront her about her new behaviour and the clear effects it’s having on her (because surprise surprise sacrificing your needs to keep others happy isn’t healthy if her weak and tired state and constantly sad smell is anything to go off of). If they do, I can see her finally being angry, yelling at them that they need to make up their minds about what they want from her, and as much as it hurts them to think that she’s been acting this way because she thinks it’s what they want, they’re relieved that at least she’s talking to them again, at least she has her spark back.

Or maybe they’re too cautious, maybe they avoid saying anything for fear of making it worse, of upsetting her more so they just don’t. And then they’re sent on a mission, gone for two months as they try to save the world from certain doom, at least content in knowing their entire world is home, safe, even if she’s upset. Does distance make the heart grow fonder? Or is it a trial run for separation? Because as hard as it is, as much as each day away from them hurts her, it makes it even more clear what she has to do.

Finally they’re back home, all safe, all alive, minor injuries that don’t really mean much anymore, not in their field of work. And they’ll take her comforting presence over anything, no matter how distant, no matter how cold. What they can’t take however is her request for Price to break the bond again. Four elite soldiers, used to death and blood and war, reduced to tears because for the first time they feel hopeless. Simon secretly wonders if it would’ve been less painful to bleed out on the battlefield than come back home to this.

Hey friend. I've put off this ask a little while, because I'm sure you're tired of getting it by now, but... are there any updates on the neglected! reader (a/b/o)? I really liked that one, and though I have no issues with the second part not being done yet, a little progress update (if you want to add one) would be very cool! Thanks for writing :)

ugh i know i've been putting it off for a long time but i haven't abandoned it guys! just feeling very stuck with where the narrative is sitting rn 🥲 however, here's a little tease of the beginning of part two, keep in mind it may not be written exactly like this when i post it:

"what?" kyle mumbles, rising from john's lap to grapple with the sudden coldness that overcomes him. no one else says anything, but you can see how your words affect the rest of them: john stiffens in his seat, simon's dismissive glance has turned into a burning glare, and johnny's hand has slipped from where it was resting on his captain's shoulder, a look of confusion and panic twisting on his face.

your anxiety may have dissipated, but that doesn't make this any easier. the air feels too tense, too uncomfortable. you don't like how agitated everyone's scents became the moment you walked in, and it hurts even more knowing they didn't even try to hide it. you don't like seeing them all together here like this. you don't like that you're believing that spiteful little voice in the back of your mind jeering at you that they've been planning your departure, planning how to break the news to you that you're not worth the hassle anymore.

it only makes sense why they're all cooped up in john's office, whispering amongst themselves.

"darling, what are you talking about?" john's voice cuts through your thoughts, but you try not to find comfort in it. he stands from his seat, and you try not to reveal how much you've missed his scent despite how thick it is with stress. your omega has been quiet for a while, but now that you're gathered in one place like this, she's getting restless, simultaneously wanting to hiss at them and cling to anyone who will spare a scrap of affection.

"please, captain, just do it. i don't want to be a burden any longer." you'll beg if that's what it takes; you'll get on your knees and clasp your hands together if it means saving them from unnecessary stress and annoyance and you from further heartbreak.

the earnestness in your voice is so strong it bites at them because how could you even suggest something like that? how could they even consider their pack whole if you're not there?

but hearing his rank fall from your lips leaves a bitter taste in john's mouth and a knot forming in his stomach. it's unnatural to hear you call him that while sounding so defeated and miserable. it's scary to feel so out of control when he's supposed to be your captain, your head alpha.

to know he's let you down so much makes his alpha growl pathetically in shame; how can he even consider himself a leader?

[back2bluesidex]

To Be Popular - JJK [Chapter 2]

Pairing: Social Media Influencer! Jungkook X Marketing Manager! Reader ft. Yoongi

Summary:

You love everything about social media - apart from the ever-growing number of social media influencers. You don't understand how these people gain followers and admirers just by installing a camera and doing very basic things in front of it. And you despise how some of them can do anything to gain fame, to be popular - even if it includes uploading their bedroom scene in pornsites aka people like Jeon Jungkook. But when your company launches a new product and your department head tasks you with signing Jeon Jungkook up as an endorsement partner - you have no choice but to chase him like the corporate slave that you are. However, things turn worse when you embroil in a dating rumor with him and have to keep the game going for the sake of everything. is it really for the worse or things will turn in a way you never expected it to?  

Theme: Strangers to lovers au, fake dating au, kind of enemies to lover au, angst, smut, fluff.

Full Series Word Count: 26k

Chapter word count: 6.4k+

Warnings: flirting, argument, kissing that's all.

Masterlist | Patreon (For access to the complete series)

Minors, I am not responsible for what you consume online. So, act more rationally and stay away.

Chapter index: -

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |

Drabbles: Imposter in the club,

Or read the full series right away on Patreon!!

Only twice in your life did you have the need to sign contracts. 

First time was your employment contract, the second time was your house lease contract. 

The third contract turns out to be something that you didn’t even have the wildest dreams about - a dating contract. 

That too, with a person you seemingly get irked by very often. 

You have gone through the documents almost every day this past week, so much so that now you can recite the terms and conditions as fluently as your phone number. 

The contract is pretty standard if you are being honest. There is only one term that you added: “Kisses are not allowed”. And it seems like both Seokjin and Jungkook have no issues accepting your only term. 

However, your hands feel clammy all of a sudden when you are about to sign the papers. The thoughts of being under the limelight scares you. 

And being Jeon Jungkook’s girlfriend means a lot of limelight in social media. 

“You okay?” Kim Seokjin asks, perceiving your hesitation in signing the papers. 

“Yeah.. I am just.. You know… don’t know what to expect from all these.” you voice. 

Seokjin places an assuring hand on top of yours, with a little squeeze he says, “you can trust me, Y/N. I will do my best to keep your private life private. Jungkookie is not a bigshot anyway but yes I know there are risks of privacy breach, which will be my department to handle.” 

You feel an odd sense of relief injected by the man’s silver voice. 

But it seems like you spoke too soon because, “what’s up you two?” Jungkook appears from nowhere. He eyes the place where Seokjin has his hand on top of yours and narrows his eyes at you. 

“You are late.” Seokjin directs his authoritative voice towards Jungkook. Jungkook sits down on the chair beside him and starts chugging down water. His Adam's apple bobs like a sin. 

You distract yourself from the scene by signing the papers finally. 

“Now it’s your turn.” Seokjin extends the paper towards Jungkook, who without a second thought takes it and signs it. 

For a moment you wonder how he manages to stay disconnected from every worry? 

You are as much of a stranger as he is to you. But still, he didn’t hesitate to sign like you did. Maybe this is another reason why you dislike Jeon Jungkook? Because he gets to be care-free while you have to care for every single move you make. 

See for an instance - once you dared to pull an act of bravery and it landed you on a dating deal with Jeon Jungkook. 

How fucking funny!

Your fingers tap on your laptop keyboard as you open the email sent by Jungkook’s agency. It’s a full fledged schedule for your and Jungkook’s first month of appearance. 

And that starts tomorrow. 

As for tomorrow, you will have to visit a cozy cafe with your supposedly boyfriend and get caught by paparazzi. Once you become talk of the media then the company will go ahead and publish an official statement. 

Things will continue like this for five months. During the sixth month your appearances will slow down and at the beginning of the seventh month, the agency will confirm the break up. 

Sounds pretty clean. 

During these seven months Jungkook will be done with the endorsement deal with your company as well. Hence, there is no need of working with him afterwards, which is a pleasant news to be honest. 

So now that you are already in the mess, you should as well taste the water and see what it brings for you. 

“You sure will be okay with it? Do you want me to tag along and keep an eye?” Jimin’s concerned voice rings in your ear. 

You are so thankful that the universe gifted him to you in the form of a best friend. From high school till now, there was hardly a day when Jimin didn’t text you, asked what you were up to, let you know what he was doing. 

He is that one friend who never got away. 

“I will be fine. Don’t worry. Go and enjoy your time, do something fun.” you add. No matter how tempting his offer is, you don’t want him to ruin his Sunday to look after you while you are on a playdate. 

“But Y/N-” 

“Jimin, I will be fine! I will keep updating you, okay?” 

He sighs on the other side making you chuckle. “Okay. but do keep me updated.��� 

“Yes. appa. Yes.” 

You check yourself once upon cutting the call.

Yeah, you look presentable. Hopefully paparazzies won’t have any issues with your sober dressing sense. 

Once again your head bobs in the direction from where Jungkook’s car should be emerging. But you find none. 

He is late. 

Great. Another reason to hate Jeon Jungkook. 

Just when you are about to pluck your phone out and throw a text towards him, you hear the rumbling sound of an engine. 

More specifically the sound of Jungkook’s bike. 

He comes to stop where you are standing under a bus stop shade and extends a helmet towards you. 

You are way too busy grasping that you miss the object being offered to you. 

“Do I have to ride this with you?” you point at his bike. 

“It’s called a bike. And yes, you are going to ride it with me.” Jungkook thrusts the helmet towards you again. 

“Thanks for letting me know what it is called. But are you sure I will be in functioning condition by the time we reach?” 

“Don’t worry, my dear girlfriend, I will take care of ya.” he gives you a cheesy grin. 

If something flips inside your chest, then it’s better to put off the subject and focus on the fake date ahead. 

So, you put on the helmet, hop on his bike, and place your hands on his shoulders. 

“Be careful, it's hot down there. Spread your legs a little more.” Jungkook warns. 

You know, it’s about the bike but the implications of his words sets your face on a battle of blush. 

Managing your gut and composure you reply with an affirmative sound. 

“Did you… cut your hair?” Now that Jungkook has stripped off his helmet and is sitting relaxed before you, you can see the difference in his hairstyle from what you saw yesterday. 

“Yeah. All by myself. I even live streamed it. How do I look?” You can see Jungkook’s face lighting up as soon as you mention his new hairstyle. 

“You look like a twelve year old. Cute.” and you are genuine with your words. He looks less mischievous and certainly not like someone who would fuck on camera.

The tip of his ears turn pink when he registers your compliment. 

Clearing his throat a little he says, “what should we order?” 

“A flat white for me. And that cheese cake, strawberry one.” you say, awkwardly peeking at the menu, which is currently under Jungkook’s scrutiny.   

You hear him chuckling and when you follow that sound, you find him staring down at you. His crinkled eyes, baby-like fringe, bunny-teeth on display and that beautiful smile makes him look like a completely different person. 

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you used to dislike. 

And that spreads something warm under your skin. You start smiling at him without noticing yourself. 

“Isn’t that Jeon Jungkook?” a second female voice comes from a little distance. 

“Oh my god. Yes. and who is he with? Isn’t he dating that bully girl? Doona or Dana?” 

“What? No. didn’t you see his viral videos from the club? That girl is his rumored girlfriend. They seemed to have a fight that night but I guess they are good now?” 

“Oh really?” 

Even though the spectators are trying to be discreet and silent with their gossip, they are anything but. 

When you look in their direction, your eyes lock with one of them. She quickly turns away and types something on her phone. 

Something reaches out for your hand that is placed on the table top. 

It’s Jungkook’s own hand. 

He wraps his big palm around yours and interlaces his fingers with yours. With a sickeningly sweet smile he says, “the act has started, we should jump into characters now.” 

You tighten your fingers around him and reply, “of course we should.” 

However, you are still unsure about where you will be after six months of this play. Will you be friends with Jeon Jungkook? Or will you end up being more?  

“But how did you let Kim Doona come between you two if you were seeing each other?” 

By the time you and Jungkook managed to come out of the cafe that day, it was already a mess. At least ten different people were trying to get your face properly, five others were trying to get a shot of your and Jungkook's intertwined hands and others were clicking pictures not-so-secretly. 

By the time you were home, your photos were all over Jungkook’s fandom’s insta profiles. 

And when the bomb (aka the official statement from the agency) dropped, your phone flooded with questions after questions.

You didn’t answer any. 

Nonetheless, the questions reappeared, this time directly, as soon as you stepped into your workplace on Monday. 

And this question in particular - it was the mostly asked one and you were ready for it. 

Your colleague nudges you again, “come on, tell me, why did you let him fuck the other girl if you were dating him?” 

“I wasn’t dating him back then.” you reply confidently, of course you had your own share of practice. “We used to be friends. But you know… friends with feelings. So yeah.. I was kinda pissed at him.” 

She makes an O shape with her mouth. 

“Is that why you lashed out on him during the meeting? I mean I heard that you…” she doesn’t end her sentence. 

These people really work less and gossip more. You nod. 

“Who confessed though? You or him? Oh- wait! Did you confess at the club? Is that why you two were seen fighting?” she throws her rapid-fire questions at you. 

But you are pleased. It worked out the way you wanted. You didn’t have to tell the story, she completed it all by herself. 

“Yup.” you popped the ‘P’ very enthusiastically. 

“Wow! You are living a fan-fiction, girl, a proper friends to lovers au.” she squeals in her seat, “mind if I post the story on my insta? I wanna use my colleague privilege card.” 

You think for a moment. If she spreads the story herself, it will be better for you. You won’t have to recite it all again and again. So you murmur a little “go ahead” and let her click a selfie with you. 

Your computer dings with a notification from Yoongi. He is asking you to come to his cabin. 

Great. Another round of interviews. 

“I just checked the campaign schedule. It’s efficient as always. Good job, Y/N.” Yoongi’s praise brings a smile to your lips.

You murmur a little thank you with a small smile playing on your lips. 

Every time Yoongi praises your work, your insides flip. But sometimes you wish for those praises to come as ‘you look good today’, ‘your dress looks nice’ and stuff like that. 

Even though that brings a sinking feeling temporarily, that doesn’t stay for long. 

“By the way..” it’s coming, it’s coming, “how did you and Jeon Jungkook end up together? As much as I can assume, you two met each other during the meeting for the first time.” 

This. This is not what you prepared yourself for. 

You didn’t think Yoongi would be too interested in knowing your relationship history, so you wouldn’t have to explain anything to him. But not only is he interested, he seems to be pretty observant of things as well. 

Now you can’t tell him the fake story you just told your colleague nor can you tell him that the entire thing is fake. 

So you clear your throat, “it just…. Happened.” 

“Just happened? You seemed to be pretty livid about his existence that day?” your cute manager gives you a lopsided smile. 

“But then you sent me behind him, to convince him or whatever. And things happened.” you turn your confidence up yet again. 

He quirks a brow at you, “things happened after that club incident, huh?” 

He is right. But not the way he is thinking himself to be right.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” you reply, as you collect the files with the details of the campaign and proceed to leave his cabin. 

“The photoshoot starts next week, don’t be lovey-dovey on the set.” he teases you on your way back. 

You only roll your eyes at the door. 

Second fake date is: hanging out at a bar after work. 

But you don’t drink on weekdays. 

So that lands you on a negotiation and the date is fixed on the Friday of the same week. 

You wait for Jungkook at the entrance of your work complex, a place where people would be able to see you getting on his bike very clearly. A strategy to make things public. 

But what comes to pick you up is not a bike but a car. 

A sleek black car that makes heads turn as it comes to stop in front of you. 

For a moment, you think the driver is mistaking you for someone else. 

But then the diver’s door opens and Jungkook comes out, wearing a black buttoned down with a pair of ripped jeans. 

Your eyes are now the size of saucers. 

You once gulp as you see Jungkook smiling brightly at you. 

“Hey baby. Sorry I’m late. Let’s go.” he says sweetly. And you wonder how good of an actor he is. 

“H-hi. It's okay. Yeah, let's go.” you reply in haste, trying to school your dumbfounded expression. 

You let him lead you inside the car with a hand on the small of you back. He lets every passerby see his face, under the street lights, as if he is very proud showing you off. 

Fake. It's fake. You remind yourself. 

“You know, you are a good actor.” you voice your thoughts once Jungkook settles inside the car, 

He chuckles, “yeah? Learned from Jin hyung. He used to be an acting major. Have been seeing him acting to be polite with his shareholders for all the years.” 

The fondness in his eyes at the mention of the other male is so clear. You can’t help but smile. You have perceived the same glow on Jin’s face too. 

“You two really adore each other, don’t you?” 

“Yeah. You can say that. I would be wandering around the streets of Busan if it wasn’t for him.” you hear the underlying darkness in his voice and decide to poke no further on this matter. 

“So, you are telling me that you made this story all by yourself? And this actually ended up making sense?” Jungkook is pointing at his phone, which has your colleague's insta post plastered on the screen. 

“I told you. I am good at my job. Moderating success stories is a part of our marketers’ job.” you shrug. Your shoulders are already a lot loose after a few drinks. 

Your head is on the cloud. 

You feel good. 

And Jungkook is being less cocky today, which is helping you relax even more. 

Jungkook hums, “Great. The act is going well so far.” 

Jungkook starts scrolling on his phone again, focusing on something very hard. After a moment of silence he says, “I won’t lie, we look good together.” 

There is a smug smile playing on his lips. 

You groan, “I thought you quit being cocky for this evening.” 

“Hey! I am not being cocky. Look at these photos.” he protests, poking his phone towards you. 

“I have seen those, Jungkook. And I don’t think I look good with you. You and I are totally two different individuals, from every single aspect. You match with someone like.. Like Kim Doona.” 

Jungkook’s eyes shut for a second, “there is no point of saying this now. I missed my shot with her because someone decided to barge in my perfectly comfortable and peaceful life.” 

“Wait. You had a thing for her?” you sit up straight on your chair. 

“I still do.” Jungkook empties his glass in a sip. 

You would have fought him and told him how you saved from a prolonged controversy, but you are feeling light-headed. You are feeling good. So you will be nice for just once. 

“Well… I am sorry then. I know how it feels to have an unrequited crush.” you sigh, recalling Yoongi’s pretty face, “sorry.” 

Jungkook seems to be caught off-guard with your changed demeanor. 

“It’s okay.” he adds, “you have a crush on that manager, don’t you?” 

The fuck? 

“How the fuck do you know this now?” your eyes go big for the second time today. 

“Come on, Y/N. Anyone with eyes can tell. The way you stiffed when he caught you and me at the parking lot.” he giggles. 

“Ok. That's enough. Let’s go home. I feel sleepy.” you stand abruptly from your chair, swaying a little (thanks to the alcohol in your bloodstream). 

Jungkook stands up too, wraps a hand around your bicep and mutters a small ‘careful’ in your ear.

“By the way… don’t you think you have to call a designated driver?” you ask on the way out of the bar. 

“Jin hyung has us covered.” he shrugs. 

On the way back home you look at the fleeting landscapes out of the car window. For some unknown reason… you feel upset. 

You had a pretty good evening. No matter how much you hate to admit it, Jungkook is a fun company. 

You two would bicker endlessly, then would slip into serious topics like economy and politics, and then all of a sudden you would talk about your favorite drinks. 

He really doesn’t seem like that Jungkook you used to dislike. 

But there is something that’s bothering you. And you can’t put a finger at it. 

The car comes to a stop in front of your apartment. You wave a quick goodbye to Jungkook, who has been busy on his phone all the way back, and climb out of the car. 

As you take small swaying steps towards your entrance, you hear the car door shutting loudly and then in turn Jungkook’s voice, “won’t you give me a goodnight kiss, girlfriend?”  

You don’t know what possessed you. It can be the alcohol, can be your bad judgment, can be the sinking feeling in your chest and the desperate need of feeling something, anything - that makes you turn around. 

You march towards Jungkook without thinking twice, standing chest to chest with him. 

All the mischief drains from his face when you grab him by the collar of his shirt and smash your lips on his. 

It should have been over in a second or two. 

But what's worse is that Jungkook is pulling you close by your waist and deepening the kiss already. 

Hope you don’t regret this when you are sober. 

There were twelve terms in your dating contract. 

You added one. 

And you breached that very one. 

The screen of your phone goes blank as you groan again for the nth time. Every time you open Instagram, all you see is you kissing Jungkook standing on the damn fucking road! 

You two were being followed by the paps that night, which was obviously a part of the plan, and you, being clearly too drunk to think straight, kissed Jeon Jungkook on his lips! 

And now those photos are circulating like wildfire. 

Jimin texted you, asking for a clarification. 

Seokjin texted with three teasing thumbs up. 

And Jungkook texted with probably a thousand of ‘ㅋ’s. 

All you want now is for the ground to split in half so that you can jump in there and die. That’s the best possible solution for whatever the fuck is going on in your pathetic excuse of a life. 

Your phone dings with another notification and you swear to turn it off if it’s another mention in another insta post or another threatening DM from Jungkook’s crazy fans. 

But it seems like the universe is trying to be even more cruel with you, because it’s a reminder of your schedule for the day - which is another date day with the root of your problems - Jeon Jungkook. 

And today, you will have to spend time at his home, click pretty selfies and photos together highlighting how domestic you two are and post those in social media from both ends. 

When you are about to go back groaning, you receive another notification. 

It’s a text from Seokjin, “the car will be there in an hour.” 

“Welcome to my home, girlfriend.” Jungkook grins stupidly as he spots you at his door. You really want to grab a frying pan and bang it on his stupidly round head. 

“Don’t call me that when there’s no one to hear.” you reply grumpily walking inside Jungkook’s luxurious apartment. 

You really want to know how much these influencers make monthly to afford an apartment like this. 

“I call you that for you to hear, baby.” His cheesy remarks are just too much to take, so you just roll your eyes at him. 

“Do you want anything? Tea? Coffee? Juice? Or maybe a kiss?” there he goes. 

This is what you were dreading! The moment you were sober enough to judge your actions, you knew Jungkook will be having a field day the moment he sees you. 

And here you go. 

But but but - you aren’t alone in this. You definitely kissed him first but he, too, kissed you back. So he needs to go down with you. 

“Oh why not, you definitely liked kissing me a little too much.” you bite back. But your words don't affect Jungkook at all. The smirk that he was sporting doesn’t go anywhere. It only grows more sinister. 

“Of course I did. Are you telling me you didn’t?” 

Now this is another thing that you were dreading to admit - that you actually enjoyed kissing him. His lips felt good on yours. 

But you have been trying to convince yourself that it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your veins, even though you know it’s nothing but an excuse. 

“Shut up!” you huff, hoping that Jungkook doesn’t notice the sudden rush of red on your cheeks, “let’s take some photos so that I can leave.” 

“What?” Jungkook is now genuinely confused and you can see it on his face, “Do you really want to leave? I thought we were cooking together? I decided to live stream it.” 

“Me and live stream? Are you kidding? There was no mention as such on the schedule plan?” you are sure all the colors of your face have drained with just one mention of a live stream. 

You hate being the center of attention. 

“Yeah but I improvised just as you did last day by kissing me.” Jungkook shrugs. 

Where the fuck is the frying pan? 

“Okay. I am leaving. Bye.” you haste towards the door. 

Jungkook giggles like a baby, grabbing your wrist and stopping you mid-tracks. 

“Okay okay. I am sorry. I promise not to tease you anymore if you say yes to the live stream.” 

“You promise?” you quirk an eyebrow facing him. 

“I promise.” 

You don’t even know if saying yes to Jungkook’s improvisation was a good idea or a bad one. 

There are reasons it’s both good and bad. 

Good because Jungkook is not teasing or unnecessarily being smug with you anymore. Bad because he is hovering way too close to your body for you to keep being sane. 

The kitchen is big enough, but half of the space is being used to put down cameras and a laptop. On top of that you two have to be crammed in a small space where both of your figures are being perfectly visible to the viewers. 

You are mostly quiet, playing your part, cooking as you are supposed to. 

But Jungkook is in his element. 

He is so natural in front of the cameras that it feels as if he was born to do so. 

Jungkook interacts with the viewers, reads their comments once in a while, smiles, laughs, and makes jokes. Under the light and darkness of the kitchen - he looks so youthful, so radiant that you feel a weird coil in your chest. 

Whenever he brushes past you, you get a whip of his perfume - an earthy, woody tone with a hint of citrus. 

His hair falls on his eyes - unmade - unlike all the other times you have seen him. 

This - whatever this is - you don’t like it. 

“Why is your girlfriend being so silent?” Jungkook reads a comment from the laptop. You pay half mind to him, occasionally smile a little. 

But within a moment, Jungkook slides behind you. 

He puts his big-ass hands on your waist, places his face on your shoulder and says, “baby, why are you being so silent?” 

If you are seeing things right then his lower lip juts out while he tries to coax an answer out of you. 

Your heart starts beating abnormally fast. 

“O-oh.. I- It’s my first time being in a live stream… so yeah.” you proceed to flip the omelet, focusing on the food and food only. 

“You guys heard that? She’s nervous. Don’t scare my girl away.” Jungkook fakes anger. 

You release the breath you were holding when he finally removes himself from you. 

You are now seriously afraid of the outcome of this fake dating contract of yours. 

“Hate to say this but” you take in a deep deep breath “this is actually very delicious. Good job." You point your chopsticks at the carbonara that Jungkook prepared. 

“Really?” he seems to be taken aback with your compliment “Thanks. Glad that you like it.” 

“By the way, you remember you have a shoot with us tomorrow, right?” you change the topic to a more serious one. 

“I do. Will your crush slash manager be there too?” his eyes stay boring in the carbonara. You honestly don’t know why Jungkook is curious about Yoongi all of a sudden. 

“Probably. Why though?” 

“Will try not to piss him off while acting.” he shrugs. 

You scoff at that “he won’t be pissed. He doesn’t reciprocate, you know.” 

“Are you sad about that?” Jungkook’s tone is a tad bit softer now. 

“Not really. It’s not that I am in love with him or something. It’s a stupid crush, and will go away with time.” 

“Have you ever tried asking him out?” 

“Not really.” 

“Then, have you ever asked him to hook up with you?” 

You choke on your omelet. 

“What- the fuck” you cough “no! Why would I ask him something like that?” 

“Why won’t you though? Don’t you want to have sex with him? I mean you like him, it’s only natural.” Jungkook explains matter-of-factly. 

“No. it’s not natural for me. I need to be at least friends with a person to have sex. And I am not friends with Yoongi. We barely even talk out of work.” 

“Oh.” Jungkook thinks for a moment “So that guy friend of yours - what was his name again… Jimin? Is he your…” 

“Oh my god, Jungkook! No! I am not currently sleeping with anyone. I have not had sex for like eighteen months.”  It's your frustration which is speaking now. 

“What? Wait! What are you? A nun?” Jungkook’s eyes go wide at your admission. 

Embarrassment eats you away, like you were eating the carbonara a few minutes ago, “I- I mean. I am not that horny.” 

“Then… Do you want to sleep with me?” 

At first you think you misheard it. So you stare at Jungkook with big eyes. 

His expression is rather serious and you hate how it affects you. 

“What did you just say?” you finally let your voice be heard. 

“You heard me.” 

“Jungkook, please stop kidding. This is not funny.”

“I am serious.” he sighs. 

“Look. I can’t go around and sleep for fun since we have an act going on here. You, too, seem like you need to blow off some steam. And honestly, tell me where is your benefit from all these? It’s your company that’s ripping the fruit, not you.” 

Jungkook’s words register in your brain. He makes perfect sense. You have no benefits whatsoever from all these. 

“It’s just an offer, you can decline it if you want but… we can- we can have some fun like adults. No one has to know, nothing will get fucked up since we are not even close to begin with.” Jungkook reasons. 

He is right. You have nothing to lose if things go down and this won’t be the first time having casual sex with someone you know. There is absolutely no risk, no feelings on the line. 

Should you really consider the idea? 

The scenes from that grainy video start clouding your brain. 

A tiny voice in your mind says, “why not?” 

“Then… Do you want to sleep with me?”

“It’s just an offer, you can decline it if you want but… we can- we can have some fun like adults. No one has to know, nothing will get fucked up since we are not even close to begin with.”

Jungkook’s words go round and round in your head. Things have been like that for the better part of the time following your departure from his apartment.

You don’t even know why are you thinking so much, you should have just bad-mouthed him, tell him to fuck off and go fuck himself but something has kept you from doing so. 

He was suggesting something genuinely and there was a point in his proposition. And above every logical expression - it’s true that you are touch-starved. It’s been way too long with you and your dildo only. You need a living object inside of you now. 

Also, Jeon Jungkook is just so hot and he fucks well - that much you know from that unsolicited video. So yeah… you could probably accept his proposal. 

The only thing that is keeping you from doing so is your heart. You don’t know what will you be left off with after you are done fucking with for five to six months. Getting attached to people easily is one of your biggest weaknesses. 

And getting attached to your fuck-buddies, that too to someone like Jungkook, won’t be too glorifying of a thing to do. 

A hand comes and sits on your shoulder blade, scaring you off of your own skin. 

You almost hit the intruder with your laptop. 

“Calm down, it’s just me.” Yoongi comes to your view. 

“Fuck! You scared me!” you finally calm down, put your laptop on the table as it was before. 

“Well it’s not my fault. My shoes were pretty loud against the floor you know? You were too lost in your head that you didn’t even hear me coming. What’s up?” He comes to sit down beside you - way too close to you. 

In other times you would start blushing right away but for some reasons, you don’t. 

And honestly you don’t even want to find out the reasons. 

“Nothing. Just rechecking the schedule and all.” you murmur, forcing your attention on the laptop screen. 

Yoongi hums, “Your boyfriend will come in time, right? Hope he is not one of those snobbish celebrity types.” 

Your boyfriend … The mention stirs something inside your heart. 

“He tends to get late but he is not snobbish.” you defend Jungkook and your actions shocks even you. 

“Oooohhhhh” Yoongi makes an amused noise “love really changes people, huh?” 

You don’t reply to him- everything is fake anyway. 

“There is a rumor going around that you two were acquaintances before? But you told me a completely different story. May I know what’s actually going on?” 

You sigh. You knew this was coming. And you prepared your answer. 

“Well, what I told you was right. But his agency urged me to make up those stories for, you know, reasons. So yeah that’s it. And I will trust you with this secret.” narrowing your eyes on him for the last part of the sentence, you emphasize your point. 

“Okay okay.” he heaves a laugh out of his chest. 

“But why is Min Yoongi suddenly so interested in my love story?” you are genuinely curious about his curiosity. He never pays any mind to any office gossip but now that it’s your turn he seems to be interested in every little detail. 

“Maybe I have reasons you don’t know?” he shrugs. 

When his words register in your mind your eyes widen. 

“W-what reasons Yoongi?” you finally voice seeing him getting up from the chair and heading towards the exit. 

“That’s useless now. Maybe I will tell you sometime in future, maybe I will never let you know.” his voice trails and then morphes into air as he leaves the room. 

Something sits in your chest uncomfortably. Is he hinting at something you wanted all along? Was this fake dating a mistake? Did it cost you something real? 

A migraine forms just before the shoot. 

“Annyoenghaseyo.” Jungkook greets the entire crew sweetly as he stands at the entrance of the studio. There are two other men with you, who are holding big bags, probably full of snacks and drinks. 

“I have brought some snacks for everyone. Since the shoot is going to take long, I hope you all have something to munch on. Also, hope you forgive me each time I make a mistake.” he flashes his bunny smile as he bows and gestures to his men to distribute the snacks. 

You can hear the crew oohing ahhing for his sweetness. You only roll your eyes - only if they know how big of an asshole he is.   

“Darling.” He comes close to you and stands before you, measures your expressions before enveloping you in a hug. 

Another round of oohhs and aahhs echoes in the studio. 

You fake the hug too. 

But obviously your body had to act weird around him. Your nipples pebble as his chest comes in contact with yours. 

You silently thank the pads of your bra. 

“Do I get an answer today?” he murmurs in your ear. His hot breath grazes your earlobes, erupting goosebumps all over your body. 

You clear your throat before pulling yourself out of his embrace.  

“Let’s get into work.” 

One credit you will give Jeon Jungkook is that he knows how to work. He is professional - nothing like what you expect from typical influencers. 

He reads the scripts attentively, takes suggestions from the PD-nim and the director, gives his input and doesn’t do re-takes after retakes. 

He makes things go smooth and easy and the shoot leads towards a culmination within the five hour mark. 

You need to update Yoongi about the shoot’s progress - so you take out your phone but just then, Yoongi walks in with another human being attached to his side. 

It’s Im Semi, Yoongi’s rumored girlfriend, also the heir of the company you work for. 

For most of the time you don’t pay any mind to her existence - that’s simply something having nothing to do with your business. 

But at times like this when she is attached to the man’s side, you supposedly have a crush on, you can’t quite ignore. 

Yoongi marches towards you, with that damned smile on his face. You force back a smile. 

Your mind reels back to Yoongi’s confusing words earlier. You must have made a mistake in analyzing. What a fool you are. 

“How’s everything going?” he questions. 

“Very well. Jungkook is doing a great job. In fact we are done with the shoot, they are only reviewing the shots now. As soon as that’s done, we can’t pack up for the day.” you keep your tone professional. 

“That’s great.” Yoongi chimes in, “You can clock out after this. Good job, Y/N.” 

“Thanks. Are you clocking out too?” you ask, eyeing Semi, who is busy staring at her phone. 

“Nah. I got a meeting.” Yoongi informs, “Gotta go back to the building. I can drop you on the nearest subway, if you want.” 

Semi’s head springs up as he regards Yoongi for a moment and then looks at you with a fake forced smile. 

You know she doesn’t like the idea. 

“It’s o-”

“Don’t worry, I will drop her.” Jungkook appears from nowhere and cuts you off. 

For the first time ever, you are actually grateful to him. 

“Ah yeah. He will drop me.” you shrug. 

“Cool. Should we go now, yoongi?” Semi speaks breaking the thin layer of tension that settled on the air. 

“Yeah. I guess. Bye. See you tomorrow.” Yoongi leaves you and Jungkook behind. 

“You okay?” Jungkook enquiries, once Yoongi is out of earshot. 

“Yeah, Fine. Are you done? Let’s go.” 

“So… I have thought about your proposal and it.. Doesn’t sound too bad.” Your eyes are downward, because if you are honest, then you are extremely coy right now and you don’t want Jungkook to witness that. 

You mulled for the entire ride back home. You thought and thought about what to say, how to say it. 

Now that Jungkook is standing before your apartment entrance, you took a chance of making it short. 

“Fuck really?” Jungkook sounds so shocked as if he didn’t expect you to say yes, “didn’t think you would accept it for real. But I am glad that you did.” 

You finally risk a glance at him. He is smiling. Your heart flips. You hate it. 

“So ah..” your ears must be red by now “do you- do you wanna come in?” you place your invitation. 

Jungkook’s smile vanishes. His face takes up a much darker expression. You know what it is. 

“I’d love to.” His voice dips an octave lower than the usual tone. 

 Now you gotta pray that you don’t regret this decision of yours. 

read the full series right away on Patreon!! (Start from part 8)

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[tinylilacbun]

School Fights

Pairing: brother!rafe cameron x teen!sister!reader

Warnings: reader getting into fights, arguing, angst, set in s4, mentions of ward being dead, fluff at the end

͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝ ⊹ ⏝ ͝ ︶𝅄⏝ ͝ ͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝ ⊹ ⏝ ͝ 𝅄

Rafe's on his way towards your school, again, this is the third time this month that the principal has called him because you got into another fight.

Ever since Ward died, Rafe took it upon himself to take care of you since you didn't want to stay with Rose and leave the island you grew up on behind but boy, he really didn't expect that taking care of a teenager would be this exhausting.

You kind of remember him of himself when he was around your age, which scares him sometimes, because he made stupid decisions and even more reckless stuff.

He couldn't say no when you somehow managed to come back to Kildare all on your own from Guadaloupe, standing in front of him sobbing and begging him to let you stay with him, saying that you miss him and everything.

Now it's been a while and things have gone smoothly, all until the calls from your principal became more frequent and worse every time.

Arriving in front of the school building he takes a deep breath before climbing out of his car, making his way inside and towards the principal office, the way all too familiar for him by now.

As he opens the door to the office he sighs at seeing you sitting in the seat in front of Miss Tinks desk, your arms crossed over your chest and a faint bruise forming on the corner of your mouth together with a cut on your eyebrow that the school nurse already patched up.

"Mr. Cameron, please take a seat." She greets him, a small professional smile on her face to ease the already growing tension in the room.

"What happened now?" Rafe asks, taking a seat right next to you, reaching out to tuck your hair away to get a proper look at your face but you just turn your head from his reach.

"Well, there's been a little altercation between Y/N and some other students during lunch break." Your principal starts to explain everything, that you lashed out at two other girls for reasons you wouldn't tell her yet as you knew it wouldn't change a thing.

"A'ight, we'll- I'll talk with her. It won't happen again, I'm sure of it." Rafe says, knowing there's no way in hell that things would change but he has to say something to assure that he's capable to take care of his sister.

"Mr. Cameron, with all due respect. I've been patient for a while now, and I can't let these things slide anymore. Y/N will be suspended for the coming three days. Should things not work out soon I'm forced to take more drastic measures to ensure a healthy learning environment for my students." Miss Tinks states calmly, sliding the paper with your suspension towards your brother.

Rafe clenches his jaw, rubbing a hand over his face before glancing at you, who seems completely unbothered by this whole situation.

"Okay. I'll handle it from here, I apologize on her behalf." Rafe musters up a forced smile as he stands up, shaking your principal's hand goodbye, turning to face you. "Let's go."

You grab your bag and stand up to catch up with your brother, walking silently beside him as you both make your way outside and to his car.

After he slams his door shut he starts the engine, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he wheels onto the road, staring ahead but he's visibly upset, rightfully so.

"What happened?" He asks through gritted teeth and when you don't reply he breathes deeply through his nose.

"Y/N, I'm trying to help here but- but when you don't give me a reasonable explanation I'll ground your ass for a damn month and take away your phone, if that's what you want instead be my guest." He waves his hand.

Again, just silence. He's about to start scolding you again when you mumble something under your breath. "Speak up, kid. I can't understand gibberish."

"You wouldn't understand..." You mutter again, trying not to cry as you feel your eyes well up.

"Then help me. At least try to explain what the hell is going on. I can't change things when you don't talk with me, you know that." He runs a hand over his buzzed head, not used to talks like this with you.

"They all pick on me...e-everyone whispers when I walk past them, saying how Dad's a murderer and that he deserved what happened, t-that you're psychopathic, that Sarah turned into a dirty pogue, telling me that I'll just end up like all of you." You finally ramble out, starting to sniffle as the tears roll down your cheeks.

"I just- I couldn't stand it anymore, hearing all that shit and just snapped. Bitches had it coming ever since I started school again..."

Rafe doesn't say anything for a moment, taking everything in you just said, already preparing himself for the phone call he's gonna have with your principal when he gets home.

How can shit like this just slip past all those teachers? Hell, he's pretty sure he can press charges for the fact his sister gets suspended after getting harassed by fellow students. A healthy learning environment, my ass.

"I...I get it." He finally responds, starting to calm down now that he knows why you've been acting so strange lately. "You just wanted to defend your family name. Guess we got more in common than I thought, huh?"

"You- You're not mad?" You question, wiping the tears from your cheeks subtly.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm actually proud of you for not only standing up for yourself but also for dad. He wouldn't get it, but I do...hell I understand you more than anyone ever could."

There's some silence after that, both of you processing the depth of the conversation you just had, there's never really been a chance to talk about what's bothering you since you're still partly grieving your father's deaths.

He wasn't the best dad of the world. Everyone knows that, but still, he tried everything to protect all of you and make sure you'll never have to worry about anything in the future 'til his last breath.

"I miss him..." You whisper suddenly, looking down at your bruised knuckles.

"Yeah, me too." Rafe replies with a low voice.

You furrow your brows when you notice that he doesn't turn into the next street towards his house but keeps driving straight ahead.

"Where are we going?"

He simply shrugs, a smirk forming on his face. "I think we both deserve some McDonald's, don't you think?"

You finally start to smile again, a sight that Rafe hasn't been able to witness for a while now. He should have paid more attention to you, having deep talks like this, he's all you got now after all.

[marscardigan]

freak like me

ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: since you started dating ellie, you always wanted to do something with her. so, when one day, she asks about your favorite fetishes, you decide to show her yourself.

word count: 0.9k

content warning: smut (minors dni), kind of exhibitionism(?, porn with plot, don't know what this is I just had to write it down

You loved your girlfriend. You loved how caring and understanding and kind she was. How she would never judge your actions, and how she always made you laugh.

You also loved how she supported every crazy idea that ran through your mind. But maybe this idea was sick and twisted.

But how could you lie to those pretty eyes? Ellie kept looking at you with a sly grin, cheeks flushed from her previous comment.

"C'mon babe, I already told you mine" she whined, hiding her pouty face in the crook of your neck.

You scoffed, "Ellie, you just said you like being praised while you fuck."

"So? It's still something that turns me on!" You could feel her shy smile hiding beneath your touch. "You need to tell me."

"Nah, I'll pass."

"Come on! Is it really that bad?" She looked at you like a kicked dog, caressing your inner thigh softly.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see her face because you knew you would surrender. "It's so embarrassing."

"I'm sure I had worse thoughts, try me."

Her cold fingers touching your skin didn't help. At all. After opening your eyes and seeing her soft gaze towards you, you knew you were a goner.

Fuck it.

"I had like this thought about... Us making out on patrol..." Ellie kept her eyes locked on yours, shifting only to see your lips for a second. "While some infected are like... close to us? I-ugh, I don't know, it's fucking weird- I don't know why-"

Ellie's hand stopped right above your belly, making you dizzy. Both of you stayed quiet, but for different reasons.

You were so ashamed of saying that out loud, that you would've gladly died in that exact moment. Ellie, on the other hand, couldn't erase that dirty image from her head.

Neither of you spoke about it anymore, and you thought Ellie might have forgotten about it, but you were so wrong.

The next time you had patrol together was nine days later. Ellie counted them.

The plan was easy: clean infected from a mall close to Jackson. But the auburn had other plans. She'd have time to kill them after.

She promised you not to talk about it any time soon, but it was hard when it was all Ellie could think about.

When you first entered the mall, you killed a few from the first floor. But when you entered the parking, you could sense Ellie's focus was... indistinct, to say the least. On patrol, she was always behind you for security, but you could tell her eyes were definitely not on the possible threats. When you caught her staring at your ass for the second time, you knew this wasn't a coincidence.

"What are you thinking about?" Your funny tone only worsened the redness on her face.

Ellie could not believe how naive you sometimes were. "You should know what I'm thinking about."

Oh.

She smiled at your reaction. "Yeah, you know."

Was she teasing you know?

A clicking sound interrupted your conversation, and Ellie's smile only widened.

"Ellie." You warned, but she didn't notice the alert in your tone. She only noticed the need. She whispered your name back, grabbing your hips and trapped you between her body and the wall of the parking.

"You do remember what you told me the other day, right?" She whispered in your ear, making your legs shake.

You couldn't answer her, even if you really tried. You pushed your thighs harder against each other, almost moaning her name. Ellie whimpered.

"We should focus on the-ahm...the infected..."

Her hand ran lower every breath you took, getting closer and closer where you needed her the most. You kept calling out her name, and just before you close her eyes, you saw a clicker on the end of the hall. Ellie kissed you before you could alert her, and she kept swallowing every cry of pleasure your body echoed. Her knuckle kept brushing your panties as you nodded at her, the pleasure building inside your belly.

You were shamefully wet by the time she lowered your jeans. She laughed with pride at the sight, and looked up at you, her index finger brushing her lips. "You'll need to be quiet f'me, okay?"

You nearly came at the sight. You nodded, and brushed your fingers through her auburn locks. The finger that was just in her mouth brushed your core just the slightest, and you had to cover your mouth, but Ellie was quick to stop your action, shaking her head, “No-huh, baby, you need to keep making those pretty noises f’me.”

Her tongue slid through your cunt repeatedly, as if she was a starved woman. She grabbed roughly your thigh and pushed it above her shoulder, forcing you to keep it there.

A sob left your lips at the sight of Ellie on her knees, her strong arms making your whole body feel like jelly.

If you died here, you would die happy, you thought.

Your clit throbbed when she put the first finger, her eyes not leaving yours. The clicking sounds only made you harder to think about what was happening.

As she whimpered, her other hand between her legs, your walls finally broke down, and Ellie kept watching.

Your head was still numb when Ellie cleaned the corners of her lips, she pushed you gently and helped you put your jeans back, and a glass shattered.

A gasp sounded, and a clicker came running and-

A gunshot. Ellie’s grunt. The clicker fell right to the floor.

“Oh my god.”

“Shit, I think I came too.”

“Fuck off!”

[jadeazora]

Rose didn't even need to be a villain. He had noble intentions in trying to help Galar and even requested Leon's help, presumably to try and mitigate as much damage as possible. But tho the problem he feared was lifetimes away, he, for some reason, couldn't wait the single day Leon had requested, and kicked off the apocalypse early, throwing the region into a panic. It all just felt so forced and unnecessary to me, and had he waited, he could have had two Champions trying to help him corral Eternatus.

Are Sordward and Shielbert obnoxious and more comedic characters? Yes. Are they also more actually villainous than Rose? Also yes. While Rose had good intentions, these guys were just pissed that Sonia had uncovered the truth about the Darkest Day and that the brothers they were descended from weren't actually the heroes at all, but the Wolves were the true heroes, and were causing problems on purpose, even trying to force a Legendary to go out of control in the middle of a town, which could have gotten people seriously hurt or killed, just to make it look bad. Their actions are on a smaller scale compared to what Eternatus could do, but with their motives, they feel more like proper villains.

[darkfictionjude]

Okay so I know this is a touchy subject already especially since certain people have already been bitchy about it before, but sometimes Crowny is genuinely difficult to play as. I feel super conflicted about them since they're the literal personification of "damn bitch you live like this?"

Realistically, progress isn't linear and different people get different results even if they do the exact same thing, but as of now it feels like they aren't really allowed to improve at all. If you study you're still mediocre leaning towards bad in terms of understanding. You try to workout you see absolutely no results, not even the tiniest bit. When it comes to the other characters, it's always one step forward and two steps back. When you give them a hobby or try to get them to pick up a skill they find little enjoyment. When people bother them they barely fight back or even argue, and when they do it's like a sarcastic quip or a grumble at most. By the end, they haven't even made a dent. These don't make them less of a person and it doesn't make them a failure since the world is quite literally out to get them, but it's like they aren't allowed any satisfaction in their life. (Yeah it's been like a month, maybe barely scratching two in the current timeline so maybe this contradicts what I first said about progress but I'm dumb as hell)

It's wild to go from the side quests, backstory segments, interactions with the ROs and then Crown family just for all the hype to fade when there's a segment with just Crowny all alone. I know that there's a reason for why they are the way they are, but I literally have to take breaks from reading their solitary moments sometimes because it seems to drag on. I know things aren't easy in this universe, I know the world is supposed to be cruel and unfair, but like can they at least get a cake for their efforts? Or a hug? Or be able to sleep through one night and wake up well rested?

I hope I'm not sounding like an asshole or a insane here. Personally, they're relatable in a lot of aspects. I may not have had supernatural shit going after me, but I had a lot of issues that many of their experiences brush way too close to. It's just the way it's presented that makes them feel like they're like the random piece of chewy cartilage in an otherwise perfectly cooked steak, unpleasant but I'm gonna eat it anyway.

I literally just wrote a whole ass book complaining, but I at least wanna say I do love your work, Crowny included even if my words seem to say otherwise, and I'm super excited to see what happens in the timeskip since i know this is like JUST the beginning. I'm like seriously praying my tone is coming off the right way if that's even possible. If you read through all this thanks. I'm not gonna hide behind anon because I at least wanna be able to explain myself if this comes across wrong.

but like can they at least get a cake for their efforts? Or a hug? Or be able to sleep through one night and wake up well rested?

Well no 😭😭

And that comes from the fact that they are self loathing, depressed as hell and have virtually no support system while dealing with things that they aren’t mature enough to handle, actually their mental health is getting far worse which is by design

I feel like perhaps some readers have not realized just how depressed crowny is. All the things you described about them finding little enjoyment, etc., are key markers of major clinical depression

I feel also people did miss the fact that crowny kind of exploded in the library they didn’t shut up, they didn’t let it go which I think is a positive because this is the first time they’ve have enough to say “enough”

Sorry but I like my things slow burn 💀 that Halloween party is meant to be a breakthrough for them and I think perhaps it’s been glossed over by some because what happened to James has gotten the most attention and the final moment in the woods. Crowny outed their “friends” for the first ever and fought back against their tormentor in only one single night. James for all his issues did the one thing that broke the camel’s back and pushed Crowny over the edge, all 7 episodes have led to this

Crowny is meant to fall before they come up that’s how I wanted it because realistically someone could not handle all of this without losing their mind. It has barely been two months, Crowny has only seriously hit the main plot in episode 4 which in the current timeline was about 3 weeks ago (from episode 7)

Truly the progress that crowny did make in episode 7 should have taken longer, people with crowny’s issues spend years in therapy before they feel they have the right to fight back.

There’s a reason episode 7 is the midseason finale. It’s not only about the plot but about crowny themself….

Dw you’re tune is fine I can usually tell when someone doesn’t think before they write 😭

[slytherinzz]

A Gaunt arrangement

Hello everyone,

I got this prompt in my request and kind of got carried away a little bit, I feel like there is more to write about this story!

I hope you all enjoy and my request are still open, I do so enjoy writing your ideas.

Prompt: Heyy please do a ominis angst to happy ending, where we are the mc and its maybe sixth or seventh year (established relationship) but he's been close to another girl for a while so mc gets jealous and insecure. You can choose how the story goes but i NEED SOME GOOD ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING PLEASEEEE

💫 Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x F!MC (named Olivia, but feel free to self-insert!)

⚠️ Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Please leave a comment, that motivates me greatly.

I’ve never been the jealous type.

Truly, I haven’t.

When I was dating Garreth Weasley in fifth year, and he cozied up to Imelda Reyes after a Quidditch match, I thought nothing of it. Free will is important, I told myself. But then I found them shagging in the dressing rooms a few days later, and my world shattered.

Since then, I’ve tried my best not to let past betrayals cloud my judgment. 

But watching her—Eleanor fucking Rosier—lean into Ominis, brush her delicate hand along his sleeve as she whispered something in his ear…

It made my stomach twist painfully.

She was always around. A perfectly bred, poised, pure-blood princess. We had been in the same year since first year, but suddenly, now in our seventh, she had attached herself to Ominis like a sickeningly charming parasite.

And worse?

He let her.

I knew Ominis. Knew the way his lips curled in irritation when someone invaded his space, the way his fingers twitched when he wanted to pull away. But with her? He didn’t.

A shrill laugh rang through the Great Hall, and my gaze snapped to the Slytherin table. There she was, sitting beside him, practically pressed against his side. And Ominis? He looked… blank.

Not uncomfortable. Not anything.

“Are you even listening?”

Poppy’s voice dragged me back to reality. She had been rambling about a rumored phoenix sighting near the Forbidden Forest, but I hadn’t heard a single word.

I blinked, realizing I had been glaring across the hall, my untouched pumpkin juice growing room temperature beside me.

"Sorry," I muttered, forcing myself to look away. "What were you saying?"

Sebastian, sitting across from me, followed my gaze. He sighed, setting his fork down with a dull clatter.

"Just go talk to him."

"There's nothing to talk about." I stabbed my eggs harder than necessary.

Sebastian scoffed. "Right, because brooding and sulking is a much more mature approach."

I glared. "He's the one acting different, not me."

"You know Ominis," Sebastian said, leaning forward. His voice softened. "If he's keeping close to her, there’s a reason."

I hated that he was making sense.

But I hated even more that Ominis hadn’t spoken to me properly in weeks.

He was mine. We had been through heaven and hell together. From reluctant allies to friends to lovers to… this.

I had held him on nights when his nightmares were too much to bear. I had taken care of him when his family pushed him to the breaking point. We had shared everything.

And yet, now?

He was slipping through my fingers.

I tried to ignore it.

Tried to tell myself that Ominis wasn’t avoiding me. That I was being dramatic, insecure, paranoid.

But then he stopped meeting me in the Undercroft, like we did every night.

At first, I assumed he had gotten caught up in prefect duties, but night after night passed, and still—nothing.

It wasn’t until I caught him alone in the Astronomy Tower that I snapped.

"You’re avoiding me."

Ominis turned at the sound of my voice, his expression unreadable. The moonlight carved soft shadows along his sharp features, but there was no warmth in his gaze.

"I’m not," he said simply.

Liar.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he didn’t respond.

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. "Is it her?"

He froze. "What?"

"Eleanor." I took a step closer, watching his face carefully. "Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

Ominis remained silent.

"You spend all your time with her," I continued, my voice wobbling despite myself. "You listen to her. You let her touch you."

That last sentence stung.

Ominis hated touch. It took months for him to let me in. I had been patient. I had taken my time, waiting until he felt safe enough to reach for me.

Now, he let her do it so freely.

"I don’t—" he started, but stopped himself.

"Why?" My voice cracked. "Why won’t you talk to me? What’s changed?"

Ominis turned away, running a hand through his platinum hair. His posture was rigid.

"You wouldn’t understand," he muttered.

I scoffed. "Try me."

A silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Then, finally, he spoke.

"My father," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He… set up an arrangement."

My breath caught in my throat.

"What?"

Ominis swallowed hard, his fingers clenching into fists.

"I’m betrothed."

It felt like the floor had been yanked out from under me.

He kept going, his voice hollow. "Eleanor’s father is close to mine. If I don’t… cooperate, if I don’t spend time with her, they’ll make sure I regret it."

I stared at him, disbelief crashing over me like a wave.

"You—You’re saying they’ll hurt you?" My voice trembled.

A bitter smile twisted his lips. "They already have."

I sucked in a shaky breath, eyes darting over him desperately as if I could see the damage they had done.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" I whispered.

Ominis laughed softly—but it wasn’t real. It was sharp, pained, hopeless.

"Because I knew what you’d do." His pale eyes—those beautiful, haunted eyes—found mine. "You’d try to stop it. And if you tried… they’d hurt you too."

Tears burned at my eyes.

I wanted to tell him I didn’t care. That I would go to war against the Gaunts if it meant keeping him safe.

But then I looked at him. Really looked at him.

And I realized…

He was terrified.

Not for himself.

For me.

"Ominis," I choked, stepping closer. "I don’t—There has to be another way—"

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

"I can handle it," he murmured. "I just need you to… trust me."

A tear slipped down my cheek.

"How can I, when it feels like I’m losing you?"

Ominis reached for me then, finally, his fingers grazing mine. It wasn’t enough.

"It’s not forever," he whispered. "It can’t be."

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the sob rising in my throat.

But deep down, I knew the truth.

As long as the Gaunts had control over him, this wasn’t something we could fight.

And that terrified me.

The days that followed were torture.

Ominis still spent time with Eleanor, still walked beside her in the corridors, still let her touch his arm as if it meant nothing. But now I knew why.

Now I saw it differently.

His posture was stiff every time she spoke to him. His hands trembled slightly when he thought no one was looking. And the worst part?

He barely spoke to me.

Not because he didn’t want to—but because he was protecting me.

But what he didn’t realize was that his silence was hurting me more than the Gaunts ever could.

I found him in the library late one evening, tucked away in the farthest corner, a single candle flickering beside him. He was hunched over, one hand gripping his wand, the other clutching his ribs. 

I froze.

"Ominis?"

He stiffened at my voice, his head tilting slightly. He hadn’t heard me approach.

"You shouldn’t be here," he muttered.

My chest tightened. "You’re hurt."

Ominis didn’t respond. But as I stepped closer, I saw it. The way his breathing was uneven, the way he flinched just slightly when he adjusted his posture.

I dropped into the seat beside him and reached out instinctively, fingertips grazing the fabric of his robes.

He flinched.

My heart shattered.

"Let me see," I whispered.

Ominis sighed heavily, as if every part of him was breaking under the weight of this secret. Then, without a word, he unbuttoned the top of his vest and pulled up his shirt.

I had to bite back a gasp.

Bruises. Deep, ugly, fresh. Dark purple and yellow, spreading across his ribs like an artist’s cruel brushstrokes.

I felt sick.

"How?" My voice shook as I reached out, fingers hovering over his skin. "When?"

Ominis swallowed. "I got another letter. I didn’t… respond the way they wanted. They summoned me home, like a fucking puppet"

My hands curled into fists.

His family did this to him. His own blood.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to breathe through the absolute rage coursing through me. Then I stood abruptly, grabbing his wrist and pulling him up.

"O-Olivia—?"

"Come with me."

He hesitated but didn’t resist.

We slipped out of the library, down the dim corridors, and through the tapestry leading to the Undercroft. Our place.

The moment we were inside, I turned to face him.

"This has to stop."

Ominis exhaled sharply, running a shaking hand through his platinum hair.

"You think I don’t know that?" he whispered. "You think I don’t want to—" He cut himself off, turning his face away.

"Then let’s end it," I pleaded. "Together. I don’t care about your family, Ominis. I don’t care about the Gaunt name or their stupid, twisted rules. If they cut you off, fine. Let them. You’re more than their legacy."

His breath hitched.

"You think it’s that easy?" His voice was bitter, laced with exhaustion. "If I walk away, I have nothing. No home. No name. I’m just… gone."

I grabbed his hands, gripping them tightly. "You will always have me."

Ominis stood completely still. His fingers twitched in my grasp, as if he were memorizing the feeling.

Then, slowly, he squeezed back.

"...Say that again."

I stepped closer. "You have me. You will always have me."

His breath shuddered.

Then, without warning, he crashed into me.

His arms wrapped around me, desperate, unrelenting. His forehead pressed against my shoulder, his entire body shaking.

I held him just as tightly, running my fingers through his hair, pressing soft kisses to his temple and then finding my lips. It was soft and tender, but the kiss grew desperate and hungry. Finally, I had him all to myself again and I loved every second of it.

For the first time in weeks, Ominis wasn’t holding back.

"I don’t want to do this anymore," he whispered, voice cracking. "I don’t want to pretend. I don’t want to let them control me."

I pulled back just enough to cup his face, thumb brushing against his cheek.

"Then we fight," I said firmly. "We tell them no. We end it. Together."

A tear slipped down his cheek.

Ominis Gaunt never cried.

But now? He let me see him.

He leaned forward, and I met him halfway, our lips crashing together again

It was desperate, raw, full of every unsaid word, every moment that Elanor had stolen from us.

When we finally pulled away, breathless, I pressed my forehead against his.

"No more hiding," I whispered.

Ominis let out a shaky laugh, smiling for the first time in what felt like forever.

"No more hiding."

And in that moment, I knew.

We had already won.

[sanjarka]

not to be a broken record but it's not quite fair to use the line but peeta wanted them so badly as proof that katniss was forced into having kids, or of her having them for all the wrong reasons. it exists within the context of not only the epilogue but an entire story before it. and i'm not here to convince you to like it. but to try seeing the point at least.

to expand on something i've spoken about before - in the epilogue their children are playing in a meadow from a song she sang to rue, a song that she now sings to her kids, in a meadow not unlike the one she dreams about after the beach kiss (as i drift off, i try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no games, no capitol. a place like the meadow in the song i sang to rue as she died. where peeta's child could be safe)

so the tone in the epilogue can not be tragic and it is not regretful. it is hopeful.

the infamous line previously mentioned is not about katniss's lack of consent in being a mother but about the amount of trust she has in peeta as her life partner, as someone she loves. it's nothing but a connection to another line in the epilogue (where katniss is expressing her worry over teaching her kids about the games and her and peeta's role in them) → peeta says it will be okay. we have each other and the book. we can make them understand in a way that will make them braver.

it is about there not being another person who could've made this decision, this choice, safe (no one has held me like this in such a long time. since my father died and i stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe)

it's about how his his hope made her wish safe (isn't it the thing i'd dreaded most about the wedding, about the future - the loss of my children to the games? and it could be true now couldn't it? if i hadn't spent my life building up layers of defenses until i recoil at even suggestion of marriage or a family?)

it's about how only peeta can give her that (what i need is the dandelion in the spring. the bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. the promise the life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. that it can be good again. and only peeta can give me that)

the choice to be a parent is not easy and careless and it never will be. she's absolutely honest about being terrified of her kids learning about the games, of them being scared and forced to harden like her and peeta were. the pain of the past is not ignored, it is not glossed over, and the nightmares never go away. but there's something else in the epilogue too.

when i first felt her stirring inside of me, i was consumed with a terror that felt old as life itself. only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it. carrying him was a little easier, but not much.

how is this katniss being resentful and if she is why would she then have another kid? i've seen some people focus on the terror as it's this ugly thing proving her regret but is it not an entirely realistic feeling to have when carrying someone's life within you and understanding the neverending responsibility in keeping said life safe? there is such beauty in the phrase old as life itself. because it suggests the idea that this is something that isn't inherently tied to katniss's life, to her trauma and to her pain but to lifekind in general. and then the joy! how that terror is only settled when seeing your child eye to eye, seeing them breath and cry and live. it's such a gorgeous, intimate passage trying to let you in the love katniss has for her kids. it's not hiding away the sacrifice and the fear but it's also not hiding away how worth it it can be to make choices that scare you.

I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. that's when i make a list of every act of goodness i've seen someone do. it's like a game. repetitive. even a little tedious after more than twenty years. but they are much worse games to play.

how is this supposed to be so much more bitter than sweet, how is this anything but a love letter to peeta, to her kids, to everything she gained after everything she lost. why would she be so afraid of losing it all if it doesn't matter and why would she make a choice to believe in the kindness of people if the life she has now is something she has no say in and something that at best she feels indifferent towards to?

and obviously you have a right to feel whatever it is that you feel. i hate even having to say this cause who am i to give you a right to feel any type of way. i'm not trying to push my feelings onto you and tell you that this story must work for you, that it must make you feel hopeful. that if you're not satisfied you just have to read it again. stories don't work that way.

but to imply that the intention of the story is for the reader to be left hopeless is wrong. and sure, maybe that intention doesn't seem that profound you, maybe it is not interesting and maybe you think is boring. and maybe you think that katniss and peeta wouldn't realistically have this life path, or have kids, and maybe you think the end is to predictable and too expected. and that's okay. whatever life you have lived is going to affect what stories you find deep and what stories you find shallow and so maybe, this is that story for you. the story that you don't get. the story that doesn't work for you. and that's okay too. but to be so convinced that the its intention is to present katniss's life as something so very miserable that she didn't choose but just let happen around her is wrong.