#and they didn't even contact my main blog

[manga-and-stuff]

Heads up, there's a new login stealing scam going around, this time with DMs from someone pretending to be support.

I never actually saw this message here on tumblr, the above screenshot is from the E-Mail notification, so I guess tumblr's spam filter deleted it before I could see it.

But in case you get to see one of these:

DO NOT CLICK THE LINK

If tumblr support wanted to contact you (they don't) they would do it via your E-Mail and not the messaging system.

[gh0st-c0mpany]

Time to reread Repcomm. Wanted to reread it since November but I convinced myself to complete my backlog first. It only took...6 months

[1800-fight-me]

Safety in Your Arms

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: M (Mature but as always-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Cursing, threats of violence, stranger danger i.e. stalking but don't worry Logan saves the day Word count: A bit over 2k Synopsis: Logan protects you from the unwanted advances of another man and shows protectiveness and care you didn't know he had for you. Author’s note: I'm thinking this might need a part two, let me know what y'all think- I hope you enjoy! P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Logan Howlett Masterlist Main Masterlist

There was a cold panic that shot down your spine. Fight or flight, you’d learned the technical term, but now experienced it for yourself. 

The five minute walk between your work and your apartment had never felt so long. It all started with a creepy customer- which was a regular occurrence at your job- but this customer took it far beyond creepy. 

He tried to make too much small talk, stared too much, made a few too many over the line comments, and was entirely too pushy when asking for your phone number. Your one male coworker escorted him out and you thought that was the end of it. 

Hours went by, you assured your coworkers multiple times that you were fine and you were safe, and eventually you were the last one left to close and lock up. 

But only one block away from your workplace, you had the feeling of being watched- of being followed. And it was just your luck that your phone was dead and you’d forgotten your charger at home.

You changed your route, taking one that was a bit longer but also more well lit and populated. With a glance back you confirmed your worry, that it was in fact the same creepy guy from hours before. 

Your heart pounded with terror as you contemplated every option for safety. Your apartment building required a code to enter, so you sped your walk, hoping if you slipped into the building and shut the door behind you that it would be enough. 

“Hey,” the man’s voice called out, but you refused to look back. 

Your apartment building was within sight, but the man’s catcalls and jeers were also getting louder and closer. 

“Hey, c’mere pretty lady! I’ve got somethin’ for ya!” 

Your whole body shuddered in fear. Your next door neighbor stepped outside of the front door of the apartment building and you nearly sobbed in relief. 

“Logan!” you called out. 

He looked up in surprise, but his expression quickly turned to concern as he saw the stress in your entire demeanor. 

You practically ran to him and threw your arms around his torso in a hug he clearly did not expect. He hugged you back, but you felt him stiffen as he looked behind you. 

That was one thing about Logan, he was extremely perceptive and quick to notice any form of danger. 

“Hey bub, what can I do for you?” he said to the man behind you in a gruff tone that was not at all welcoming as he gently maneuvered you so that you stood safely behind him. 

You gripped Logan’s strong bicep as you peered around his shoulder at the stalker. 

“I was just-” 

“Just nothin’. You better leave her alone,” Logan interrupted. 

“C’mon, I was just inviting the pretty lady to have a good time. Does he speak for you?” the creep asked as he made eye contact with you. The malice in his eyes made your heartbeat spike again. 

“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend,” you said nervously. 

He glanced between you and Logan as if uncertain. 

“She just told you, she’s mine- so fuck off,” Logan growled. A different kind of shiver went down your spine. 

“You live here?” the man asked. 

“No,” Logan growled before you could even open your mouth. “But I do, and if I see you around here again it’ll be a problem.” 

The man looked at Logan and finally seemed to take in the gravity of the situation, the danger that the large muscled man protecting you could pose. 

He gulped and nodded, yielded a step back as Logan took a step forward- muscles tense and fist clenched. 

The man turned and scurried away. You took your first full deep breath in several long minutes. 

Logan watched the man until he was completely out of view before he turned to you. He placed a large comforting hand on your shoulder and you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. 

“Princess,” he said in a gentle voice. 

He pulled you into a hug as a tear fell from your eye and made its way down your cheek. You were enveloped in his warmth and woodsy masculine scent and finally felt safe. 

“Thanks for pretending to be my boyfriend,” you said as you pulled back and wiped the tears from your eyes. 

“Anytime,” he said with a smirk. Your breath caught and you bit your lip as you looked up at him and saw such care and concern on his handsome face. 

“Who was that guy?” he asked. 

You shrugged, “Some crazy customer from earlier today, my coworker made him leave, but I guess he came back and waited until I was leaving alone….” 

Logan’s brow furrowed and he gritted his teeth. “That motherfucker,” he growled, “I’m walking you to and from work tomorrow.” 

“You don’t have to-” 

“No, I do. And I’ll do it until I’m sure he isn’t gonna bother you anymore. And if he shows up again…” he trailed off as his claws extended from his fist in an action that seemed involuntary due to his rage. 

A shiver ran down your spine. You had no idea Logan felt so protective over you. 

“Thank you,” you said in a soft voice, “I appreciate it.” 

This was not helping your ridiculous crush on your neighbor. From the minute he moved in with your friend Wade, you had heart eyes for him. 

The Wolverine, he took your breath away without even trying. With his large stature, huge muscles, and handsome face- you were a goner. It didn’t matter that he was older, way out of your league, and generally altogether grumpy. You were head over heels for him, and you were certain he had never noticed you before, that he merely thought you were Wade’s annoying friend. 

But you adored him, you adored the gentle heart you knew he buried under that gruff exterior, and displays of protectiveness such as this only proved what an amazing person you already knew he was. 

“I’m headed to meet Wade at the bar, d’you wanna come?” he offered. 

You nodded eagerly, not wanting to be alone after the stress of the day. 

“Lead the way,” you said with a smile. 

—--------

“Look who I brought,” Logan said as you walked behind him into the bar and approached a booth in the back corner. 

He stepped to the side so your friends could see you. Wade, Vanessa, and Dopinder sat at the table, already laughing and drinking beer. 

Wade gasped dramatically and exclaimed, “Princess Cupcake!” 

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips betrayed you and showed your amusement. 

“Hey Wade,” you replied then greeted the others. 

“What? No comeback? I’m hurt! What’s wrong?” he asked, speaking in that way too fast pattern that was his norm. 

Logan placed a hand on your back and leaned down closer to your ear as he asked quietly, “You wanna sit down? I can get you a drink- what do you want?” 

You smiled and sat down as you were told and told him your drink order. 

Wade wiggled his non-existent eyebrows at you in a rather suggestive manner. 

“What’s up between you and peanut? Did you finally fu-” 

“No,” you interjected quickly. 

“Wade, she’s clearly upset and Logan is helping her,” Vanessa said as she elbowed her boyfriend. 

You sighed and explained the events of your afternoon. During your explanation Logan came back to the table with two drinks and sat next to you. His large form crowded you into the corner of the booth, but you didn’t mind. 

“That motherfucker,” Wade said in anger at the end of your story. Vanessa gave you a look of solidarity, you knew she had experienced plenty of creepy men in her life. 

“That’s what I said,” Logan replied, clearly somewhat amused. 

“We should kill him,” Dopinder said.

“Calm down wannabe-vigilante,” you muttered which caused everyone to chuckle. 

“Don’t worry cupcake, ole honey badger and I will make sure you’re safe,” Wade reassured. 

You nodded and said, “I appreciate it, but I don’t think he’ll return. Logan can be pretty intimidating, it was amazing - I’m sure he scared him off.”

Logan grunted in agreement, although when you looked at him you could’ve sworn there was a tint of pink on his cheeks and the tops of his ears. 

As the evening stretched on, you were thoroughly distracted from your troubles and amused by Wade’s antics and Dopinder’s stories. 

“So, Princess Cupcake, any luck on the dating front?” Wade asked. 

You tugged at the sleeves of your shirt- a nervous habit, and without looking up from the table said, “Nope.” 

Logan let out a soft sigh of what your aching heart could only hope was relief. 

“I’ve never asked, what’s with the nickname?” Dopinder asked. 

You shrugged and gestured to Wade. 

“When Blind Al and I moved into our apartment this sweetie pie here brought us cupcakes!” Wade explained. 

“Good thing it was cupcakes instead of a pie because being constantly called sweetie pie would make me want to die,” you muttered and everyone laughed. 

“What about the princess part though?” Dopinder asked. 

“Just look at her,” Logan mumbled and you and everyone at the table looked over at him in surprise. 

“She’s got that innocent sort of pretty you only see in big bright eyed animated Disney princesses,” Wade said. 

Embarrassed at the attention you changed the subject immediately. Your constant filthy thoughts about Logan proved you were anything but innocent. 

“But why is Logan’s nickname peanut?” you asked quickly. 

Wade shrugged, “Just fits.” 

Logan rolled his eyes. 

You smirked and said, “I bet we could come up with a hundred nicknames for him that would fit better.” 

“Like what?” Wade challenged. 

You glanced over at the large handsome man sitting next to you as your face warmed. 

Daddy was the first word that came to mind. Wade chuckled in a way that made you momentarily worried that mind reading was one of his mutant abilities. 

The silence at the table stretched on, becoming a tad awkward, before you said, “Nevermind I’m not very good with nicknames anyways.” 

“Yeah, it’s probably best to leave choosing nicknames to the professional,” Vanessa said in a joking tone to ease the tension. You shot her a look of gratitude and she winked at you before she effectively changed the subject all together. 

Eventually, after enough drinks and conversation, you declared that it was time for you to go home. 

“C’mon!” Wade protested. “The night has just begun!” 

“I wish I could stay but I’ve got work in the morning.” 

“I’ll walk you home,” Logan said in a soft but firm tone that left no room for argument as he stood and took a step back to give you room to get out of the booth. 

You nodded in agreement and smiled in pleasant surprise as he offered you his arm. You wrapped your arm around his large bicep and linked your elbows as you followed him out into the cold winter air. 

The city glowed in warm orange light that reflected on the wet pavement. Your breath was visible in frostbitten wind, and you shivered slightly which caused you to burrow further into your coat and move closer to Logan and the heat his body provided. 

He then pulled his arm from yours, causing you to momentarily panic, but just as swiftly he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

You smiled and filled the short walk with endless chatter, you used to worry that your yapping irritated him, but the small uptick of his lips- the ghost of a smile- showed fond amusement and filled you with warmth enough to make you forget about the cold. 

“What time do you leave for work in the morning?” Logan asked as you reached the door of your apartment- his apartment door only a few steps away. 

“Eight o’clock,” you replied as you unlocked the door.

“But really, you don’t have to-”

“I’ll see you then,” he interrupted in a tone that indicated you would not win this argument. 

Then he did something you didn’t expect at all, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to your forehead. 

You grinned, your smile wider than probably ever before as you said, “Goodnight Logan, see you bright and bleary eyed tomorrow.” 

He chuckled as he bid you goodnight and you walked into your apartment and shut the door only after he smiled at you again before disappearing behind his own door. 

You shut your door and locked it before leaning against it. You muffled your squeal of excitement with your hand- all too aware how thin the walls are. The stressful events of the day completely forgotten. 

[ldrfanatic]

two worlds collided

theodore nott x fem!malfoy!ravenclaw!reader

a.n. this is quickly becoming a theo obsession blog BUT I am open to requests for others

love theo in this piece.

to be added to my theo nott taglist just comment on one of my theo nott posts :)

synopsis - you're draco's sister but you're a ravenclaw. your father shunned you because he thought that voldemort wouldn't want you but when Nott sr is trying to find theodore a bride your father takes this as the perfect opportunity. over time you grow to genuinely care for one another.

warning - cursing, lucius malfoy is a prick, hitting, borderline verbal abuse, arranged marriage

accompanying song - never tear us apart (bishop briggs)

works slytherin boys

"Father is asking for you."

Shock washed over you and you wondered if you submerged yourself into your cloud-like bed if Lucius would just forget about it. After carefully weighing your options, it seemed rather unlikely. You threw your navy covers to the side and shuffled awkwardly to the main dining hall where your mother, father, and older brother Draco were waiting.

Your eyes fell onto a rather scary looking man and another handsome figure who you recognized as Theodore Nott, one of Draco's friends.

"Daughter." The warm velvet tones of Narcissa Malfoy filled the air. After you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, Draco and Lucius had shunned you. Narcissa had been the only person in the entire family still kind to you. Well, she and your estranged aunt Andromeda who you'd been secretly exchanging letters since third year.

"Now that the Dark Lord has gained strength, it is imperative that we maintain close connections within the Sacred 28." Lucius approached you, looking rather unhinged, and placed a large hand on your shoulder. There was a malicious look in his eyes that made the entire interaction all the more unnerving. "Once the Dark Lord begins his plans, he'll need people he can trust to continue the most important of magical bloodlines."

Your father took you by the shoulders and moved you to stand in front of Theodore and the mystery man at his side.

"This is Theodore Nott Sr. and his son, who I presume you know from school."

Nott Sr. glanced to the side at Theodore who snapped out of a sort of trance. He brought your hand up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on it.

"Y/n."

You smiled but didn't say anything, waiting in silence for your father to elaborate. He and Nott Sr. had clearly formed some sort of plan. "You and his son are to be married."

"What?!" Your body whipped around of its own accord and you felt rage explode over your body. "You haven't spoken to me in years and suddenly you expect me to marry this man without even asking me if I wish to be married to him or anyone for that matter?!"

Lucius' hand came down suddenly. A loud 'whack' resounded in the room as the back of his palm made contact with your cheek. "You ungrateful little brat." He straightened his cloak and took what you supposed was meant to be a calming breath. "Draco noticed the way that you stared at the Nott boy in school. You ought to be more appreciative that I didn't choose that awful Pucey boy although he was more than willing."

Though you couldn't see, Theodore's nose turned up in disgust at the mention of Adrian Pucey. He'd taken a liking to you, completely undeterred by the elder Malfoy's numerous threats to stay away from his younger sister. Draco might've been appalled that you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, but that didn't mean that he was gonna let that slimey tosser terrorize you.

Your gaze stayed on the floor for a few moments before you turned back around, muttering a small apology to Theodore and his father. Overall, Theo was quite handsome and you had stared at him more than a few times. He really was quite handsome.

Nott Sr. studied you for a few moments then turned to Theodore expectantly. "Why don't the two of you take a stroll and become acquainted while Lucius and I finish up the particulars." It was phrased like a question, but in truth he wasn't asking. The air was silent as you walked out of the room the brunette boy following diligently.

The cool air nipped at your exposed skin as the heavy oak door slammed shut behind you. It was always cold and dark in the area surrounding Malfoy Manor.

"I'm sorry Theodore."

"Theo."

You stared at Theodore like a fish out of water waiting for words of any intelligence to come to you. Finally, you stuttered out an ignorant 'Huh?'.

"Call me Theo."

Your heart beat loudly in you ears for a few moments. "Oh-kay," Theo began to mosey into the Manor gardens with you hot on his heels. He was quite tall and due to the length of his legs, every one step he took was nearly three of yours. "So Theo. I am sorry you got dragged into this."

"That's alright fiancée." Theo teased you with a smile that could make any girl weak in the knees. For a moment you felt as though you could almost forget that the both of you were being forced into this.

"Still. I know your reputation. I only ask that you keep your conquests separate from our entanglement."

An indescribable akin to hurt flashed in the eyes of the boy before you. As well as something you didn't quite recognize.

"My reputation?" You spluttered at him for a few moments once again making a fool of yourself in front of Theodore Nott.

"Theo I didn't mean to--"

"Whatever." He turned away from you and stalked angrily back towards the Manor, calling over his shoulder. "And it's Theodore."

The rest of the break passed by pretty miserably, as expected. You and Theodore had gone on a few dates, as demanded by both your father and Nott Sr. since the pair of you were courting now, but they were long and excruciating with little to no conversation.

Despite a summer that seemed as though it would never end, September finally arrived.

You were boarding the train with Theodore and Draco as your parents watched on. They'd been keeping an extra close eye on the pair of you. In all honesty, you and Theodore hadn't grown any closer in your courtship than you'd been as distant acquaintances the year prior. If anything, the walk in the garden at the start of your relationship had forced you further apart.

And though you'd pretended you didn't care, seeing Theodore with other girls was never something you'd enjoyed. Now, knowing that he'd be your husband sooner rather than later, the thought of Theo running around with some daft blonde Slytherin made your heart sink to your stomach.

Yet, as the year progressed, you and the rest of Hogwarts were unexpectedly surprised by Theo. Before you knew it, the first snowfall graced Hogwarts in November, and Theodore hadn't had any flings with any girls. He was even turning down girls that had been brave enough to approach him and make the first move.

Without your parents to keep the two of you tightly bound, you and Theodore hadn't spoken since the train in.

Through all of this, you hadn't expected to become close friends with Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl in Theo and Draco's year. But she'd walked up to you during breakfast one morning and the two of you really hit it off.

Hence why currently, you were sat on Pansy's bed while she worked on her charms homework. And she was putting her absolute all into trying to convince you to ask Theo to Hogsmeade.

"C'mon Y/n! It might be fun."

"If by fun you mean he'll humiliate me in front of the entire student body." You mumbled under your breath. You tried to tune her out so as to focus on the book you were currently attempting to read, but she was determined.

"According to Blaise Theo's been talking about you when Draco isn't around to glare at him for it."

"Look Pans, I know you're in love with the bloke but have you considered that Blaise may be confused? Or simply taking the mickey?" Pansy shot you an unimpressed look. "Theo and I haven't spoken since September. In any case, if he's turning down long legged red heads who are all but stripping in front of him, what makes you think he'd want to go out with me?"

"Because he's already agreed to speak with you in the Slytherin Common Room tonight."

"What?!"

Pansy ignored your protests and damn near dragged you down to the common room with an iron grip on your wrist. When you got there, Theo was spread out on one of the expensive leather couches with a cigarette in between his lips. Yet as he noticed you approaching, he immediately dropped it and put it out with a stomp on the stone floors.

"Y/n."

The sonorous tones of Theo's voice bounced off each wall of the common room and seemed to warm you from the inside out. His voice was so inviting that you almost believed you could actually do this.

There is, however, one thing to know about Theodore Nott. No matter how inviting or pleasant Theo's aura is, you'd made a promise to yourself not to look him in the eyes. You knew that if you made the unfortunate mistake to look Theodore Nott in his malachite eyes, you'd lose all ability to think, speak, even breathe properly.

It wasn't until you saw his shoes enter your line of sight that you knew that he'd approached you at all. Worse, when his large hand found purchase under your chin and lifted your gaze to meet his, you knew that you were well and truly fucked.

In that most regrettable moment, you realized how much you'd fallen in love with Theodore. During shared hushed dates and the rare moments of laughter. Theodore Nott had completely enraptured you. And you realized much too late to do anything about it.

So now here you stood. Lost in the beautiful blues and greens of your fiancée's eyes. You were completely, 100% at Theodore Nott's mercy. And likely not for the last time in your life, you felt the urge to give into him. He was a sin that you'd willingly drown in.

"Bellisima," Theo's voice thickened as he spoke. You couldn't understand what he was saying nor could you place the language. But in all honesty, you hadn't known that he even spoke any other languages. His tongue wrapped effortlessly around each syllable and his voice deepened even more than usual, if possible. "I asked you a question."

"Huh?"

"You've been avoiding me." He stepped closer and your heartbeat spiked. "Why?"

Why had you been ignoring Theo again? How could you, or anyone for that matter, ever dream of not giving this devastatingly handsome man everything he desired and more? Oh yeah. Your wretched father.

"You've already been roped into entrapment with me and then forced to hang out with me all summer. I didn't want to cause anymore turmoil to your peace than I already have."

Theo's lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. Once again you'd gone and offended the poor boy.

Immediately, you opened your mouth to apologize, but he cut you off.

"D'you know for a Ravenclaw, you really can be rather thick sometimes?"

You felt your jaw drop in shock. The small grin he currently sported on his face let you know that he'd obviously been teasing. And for the umpteenth time since knowing him, Theo stole your breath with his stupid mesmerizing smile.

Yet, through all of that, he was right. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Theo finally seemed to get the hint that he was going to have to spell this out for you.

"I know you probably don't know this about me, but I never do anything that I don't want to. No matter who's asking."

You continued to stare at him blankly. Had he hit his head during the last quidditch match?

Theo ran a hand stressfully through his hair. He grabbed your wrist and led you back to the couches where you settled comfortably in the seat next to him, careful to maintain a respectful distance. "Merlin, Y/n. Turns out you Malfoy's are all slow."

"No offense." He added on quickly when he saw the look on your face. "That's not the point. Y/n I never would have agreed to this engagement with you if I didn't actually want to. I know that you did not get a say in the matter so if you truly wish to live our lives separately, I will respect your choice." Theo gently pulled your hand until it was safely tucked in between both of his larger ones.

"But whatever your decision, know that I am yours. I have wanted nothing more in the past few months than to be by your side. And every moment I spend without you is inexplicable torture for my soul."

"Theo."

He shook his head and cradled you face between his palms.

"No. My mother had a saying. Lascia che la vita accada. It means 'let life happen'. She believed that the only way to truly know if something is meant for you is to let life make it happen on its own. So take a few days. I'll meet you Saturday morning in the Great Hall. But know that if you agree to be mine, Tesoro, you'll be mine for eternity."

To say that staying away from Theo in the days following was easy would be a complete and total lie. When you told Pansy about the conversation the pair of you had (or lack thereof really) she'd all but exploded.

Finally, Saturday morning rolled around. You'd genuinely thought about all your options and you'd come to a decision. The only issue with Theo's plan is that Saturday was the infamous Gryffindor v Slytherin Quidditch match. The Great Hall was bustling in seas of only red or green. You were sporting a dark green jumper, a show of obvious support for the Slytherin team.

Those of your house that favored Gryffindor looked on at you with disdain as you stood from your bench and began making your way to the Slytherin table in search of Theo. He was one of Slytherin's chasers so trying to find him during such a hectic morning proved difficult.

As you walked up and down the table, a familiar figure appeared in front of you.

"Ahh Malfoy. I've been looking for you. I was wonderin' if you'd wear my jersey."

Before you had time to respond or even acknowledge the situation at all, Adrian Pucey had shoved his green and silver practice jersey into your arms. It was an incredibly common practice for girlfriends and boyfriends of Quidditch players to wear their partner's jerseys to their games for good luck.

The hall fell silent as the sound of glass breaking reverberated through the air. You looked to the source of the noise. Theo had stood so abruptly from his seat next to Blaise and Lorenzo that his entire breakfast went flying and ended up on the floor.

He was staring at you with clear ache in his eyes. Suddenly, he swung himself over the bench and stormed out of the room.

You threw Adrian's awful smelling jersey back at his face and ran frantically after Theo.

"Theo!" He ignored you and continued walking briskly even as you approached quickly on his heels. "Theodore please. Just let me explain."

"You don't owe me an explanation, dolcezza ragazza. You've made your choice."

"You've got it all wrong. That's not my decision. I don't want that." You cried out as tears brimmed your eyes. The thought of losing Theo because of Adrian Pucey was mournful.

"Hey, hey. Calma tesoro. Breathe." Theo's hands one again found their way to your face. He gently thumbed the tears from your face. "Don't get yourself all worked up. I'll always listen to you."

"Adrian he just sort of threw his disgusting jumper at me. I don't want him. I only want you. I'm yours, Theodore Nott, completely and without hesitation."

The grin on Theo's face was nothing short of heart-stopping.

"Does that mean you'll wear my jersey at the game today?"

wc 2.6k oops

4.17.24

-- taglist --

@thatdammchickennugget @moonlightreader649

[hamiltonfc]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆⭒˚｡⋆ LET HER LISTEN; JUDE BELLINGHAM

Summary: When Jude's ex calls during sex, you urge him to answer.

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut, MDNI, P in V, Oral (F!Receiving)

Word Count: 1,197

A/N: Repost from my main blog @p8dris as I transfer all my fics over onto this blog. Reblogs appreciated.

"Fuck, Jude," You whimpered in his ear as he pounded into you. One of your hands is around the back of his neck, bringing his head as close to yours as possible, while your other hand is on his back, gripping on for dear life, leaving marks upon marks. "You make me feel so good."

Jude's mouth slacked open when he felt you tightening around him, your third orgasm of the night approaching. He was resting on his forearms, which were resting on either side of your head. With your faces being so close together, there would be a sloppy meeting of your lips every so often, teeth clashing as you both practically tried to devour each other. But neither of you seemed to mind, too caught up in each other to even notice half of the time.

Jude was just about to reciprocate the words you had told him, but he was stopped before he could even open his mouth by the sound of his phone ringing. He groaned, pausing briefly as he looked over at the phone resting on the nightstand. He groans again, louder this time, swiftly reaching over to decline the call before his attention returns to you. This time he's pounding into you even harder, the headboard of the bed banging against the wall after each of his thrusts.

"Who was it?" You struggled to get out due to the abundance of pleasure he was giving you, but with the amount of frustration that was coursing through his veins, you had a slight idea about who it was. "It was her, wasn't it?"

Jude rested his head against yours, only being able to nod before he squeezed his eyes shut, letting out breathy moans into your ear.

His ex had been calling him every couple of days for about a week, begging him to take her back. His response was the same every time, telling her that he would never be getting back with her, especially after their relationship was so toxic. But she struggled to get the message he was sending her. You had told him just to block her number, but he knew that she would always find a way to contact him no matter what, so he didn't see the point.

You were just about to forget about what had happened, the feeling that he was giving you clouding your mind when your body shuddered in orgasm. Your third of the night. But the shaking of your legs was quickly interrupted by the ring of Jude's phone yet again.

Your legs that were wrapped around his waist tightened and the hand you had around his neck gripped harder, your eyes darkening. You didn't know if it was because you were just denied the full experience of an orgasm, or that you were just feeling a little risky, but you whispered, "Answer it."

Jude's eyes went wide as he looked down at you, shocked that you would ever say anything like that. But you could see him process what you had just said, and he concluded that he enjoyed the idea, just as much as you were clearly about to. He reached over, this time accepting the call, placing the phone on the pillow next to your head so she would be able to hear you.

You could hear her saying "Jude" down the line, a soft giggle leaving your mouth, knowing that what she was about to hear would send her into an absolute frenzy.

"Turn around," Jude commanded, not even giving you any time to respond before he was on his knees flipping you over. He pulled your hips up towards his, leaving you to rest on your forearms on the bed in front of you.

Before entering you, he leans down pressing a feather-light kiss to each of your ass cheeks, sending goosebumps across your skin. He's leaning down even further, pressing another kiss, to your pussy this time, licking a slow strip from your clit to your entrance. He eats your pussy as if it's his last meal, immediately making your legs shake.

At first, you're biting your lip, nervous that Jude's ex could hear everything that was happening, second-guessing your decision to let her listen. But Jude realised that you were being much quieter than you usually were, as eating you out brought the most noise out of your mouth.

"Moan for me baby," his voice vibrated against your heat, making you whimper. "Good girl, let her listen to how good I make you feel."

That's all the encouragement you needed, letting out moan after moan, as his tongue stroked up and down your swollen pussy.

"Please, Jude, I need you inside me," he could tell by the sound of your voice that you were close to your fourth orgasm of the night, so he wasted no time guiding his throbbing cock into you, bottoming out before he almost fully pulls out again, just to slam into you. In creating the same rhythm he had earlier, you were struggling to hold yourself up any longer, letting your arms give out as you flopped onto the bed.

Jude gripped your ass hard, watching as his dick disappeared inside of you time after time. "That's it, Y/N. You're taking me so well, so much better than anyone else."

You couldn't help but laugh at his pettiness, knowing that the woman who was begging for him back was hearing every single thing.

"Fuck," Jude whimpered out, his thrusts becoming inconsistent. "I'm going to cum, Y/N."

"Cum inside me, Jude," your hips were thrusting back lazily to meet his, your high building up inside you. It wasn't long before you felt the familiar feeling of his cum dripping into you as your high took over your body, leaving you to collapse on the bed.

Jude gently laid himself down on top of you, sweaty skin sticking to each other's, both of your chests heaving after the tiresome events of the night.

"Looks like she hung up," Jude laughs, turning his phone off, placing it back on the nightstand, rolling off of your body to lay beside you.

You turn your body to look at him, a hand coming up to caress his cheek before you press a soft kiss onto his lips. "You made me feel so good today, baby, but I don't think I'm going to be able to walk for a while."

He smiles at you, his hooded eyes taking in each of your features, thinking that you were still the most beautiful woman in the world, even if he had just fucked you into oblivion. "You were amazing, too. as always. But you're going to have to get up, we need to clean up."

"But I don't want to, I'm too comfy," you could feel your eyes getting heavy, as you snuggled closer to Jude.

Jude peppered kisses all over your face, leaving a beaming smile on your face. "I'll run you a bath, how does that sound?"

You opened one eye, looking into his beautiful brown ones. "Will you join me?"

"Of course I will. Now let's get you cleaned up, pretty girl."

[missnxthingg]

could you do a lando norris x reader smut with that damn sucker at the austrian grand prix after he DNFed and maybe the reader gets turned on by his frustration and anger.

YOU'RE HOT WHEN YOU'RE ANGRY

Pairing: Lando Norris x Girlfriend!Reader Warnings: Smut & swearing Words: 1.8K (a shorty, compared to my other works) Author's note: Thank you so much for being so quick with the request. Loved doing this because angry Lando is absolutely hot. Also, found this template for the cover pic and absolutely loved it. It's so different.

main masterlist | main blog | taglist

After the crash, Lando was pissed, to say the least. So far, things have been looking good for him this season. At the Austrian Grand Prix, the 11th race of the season, he was the only driver to finish among the points in the grid. But after a streak of almost wins, he crashed his car into Max Verstappen’s at the final laps, having to retire from the race just as he was starting to feel the victory taste between his lips.

He was fuming when he turned off the car in the pits, throwing daggers with his eyes at everyone that crossed him that day. Having to watch the finishing of the race from the garage was frustrating, and the last drop to make him lose it this week. So many almosts, and luck was never in Lando’s favour.

Y/N was gutted for her boyfriend. She had joined him in this triple header because she knew he was feeling very overwhelmed by the season, and it had only got worse after his bitter P2 at the Spanish Grand Prix. That day in Austria, she had been watching it from the garage and was one of the first people Lando met after the DNF. He quickly pecked her lips to find some comfort, but was so angry that didn’t want to be around her to affect her somehow.

Knowing he needs his space when he’s frustrated, Y/N stayed behind and watched Lando do his job. He was talking to his engineers, trying to at least help Oscar with the best outcome of the race, but he was angry, and his face showed. Jaw tense, fire in his eyes, no bubbly smiles. And somehow, that turned her on.

Usually, after bad races like this, she takes her time showering him with love and support through the whole night after the poor result. But Y/N was needy, and seeing him with the droplets of sweat on his forehead, disappointed look on his face and his suit hanging low on his hips were doing things to her. Well, to the point where her panties were soaking wet just by looking at him.

She tried hiding it while they were on track, but Lando noticed she was behaving weird, trying to keep more quiet as they were still surrounded by a lot of more people. He frowned when she tried her best to escape him after the post race media pen, and found it weird again when she changed her behaviour once they were in his driver's room.

He had sneaked away from the crowd a minute before her. Lando closed his eyes, breathing deep, trying to assimilate and calm from what had happened. He was only taken out of his trance when his girlfriend snaked her arms around his waist and started pressing kisses to his jaw. He opened the first genuine smile that day when he finally felt her right there with him.

“Hi, baby”, he said, making Y/N smile to finally have his attention. “I love you so much”

“Always nice to hear that after hours seeing your cranky face”, she said. “I love you more”.

“Probably impossible”, he winked, making her giggle. Then he pecked her lips, feeling easier to have her around, even though he still didn't understand her behaviour from earlier. 

“You good?”, she asked, and Lando sighed.

“I will be”, he assured, holding her a little tighter. “You make me better”.

Y/N smiled at his words and locked their lips together in a sweet kiss. But soon they turned things around into a more steamy make out, that had her palming his cock through his fireproofs. He moaned at the contact, but stop the kiss to see what that was about.

“You were literally avoiding me a few minutes ago, and now you're doing this?”

“I was avoiding you because I was horny, you muppet. Would've come undone right in front of everyone if I didn’t ignore you”, she smirked, making him smile. “But God, you look so hot when you're angry”.

“So you’re taking advantage of my misery?”, he provoked with a smirk, but didn't last long with his boyish behaviour when she started massaging his balls. “Oh, baby, this feels so good”.

“Let me take care of you, my love”, she pecked his lips again, making him smile in response. “Want to turn this day around for you”

Y/N gently pulled him to sit on his couch and kneeled in front of him. Then she took off his fireproofs, leaving him in his underwear between those tiny four walls. But before she could jump into giving him pleasure, he dug his digits on the skin of her waist, pulling her into his lap. She straddled his laps and sunk into him as they made out, trying to make it as silent as possible.

“Need you”, he whined, feeling that his boxers were too thick for his liking. Lando wanted to feel his girl more than anything.

“Let me make you feel good, baby”.

Y/N trailed kisses down his torso, her lips feeling like silk against his skin. Lando felt them burning deliciously through him and urged to feel her touch more and more. When his girl finally pulled his underwear down and wrapped her hands around his base, Norris lost it, throwing his head back in pleasure.

She licked him from up and down, but not doing much to get his relief. Lando was whining and groaning in frustration, but Y/N was taking her time with him.

“Fuck”, he moaned. “Please do something, angel. I need you”.

Y/N decided to grant his wish, popping the tip of his cock inside her mouth. Lando grunted with the move, and moaned louder when she started taking all of his length in her mouth. He could feel him hitting the back of her throat turning him into a mess.

“Baby, your mouth feels so good”, he held her hair away from her face and started thrusting a little into her throat. “Won't last long with you making me feel like this, fucking hell”.

Y/N stood quiet, completely focused on giving him pleasure. But desperate for some relief, she started  clenching her tights, needing some sort of friction between her legs. Lando noticed, and he most definitely didn’t want to leave his girl wanting him just as much as he wanted her.

“Baby, if you want me to continue, you're gonna have to stop”, he groaned, but she didn’t stop, only taking him further into her mouth. “Please, Y/N. Wanna feel your pussy around me”.

Those words had convinced her, who took his cock out of her mouth with a pop. Lando smiled with her move, pulling her by the arms to make her sit on his lap again. Then she kissed him once again, feeling him hard against her legs, and turning her on even more, if it was possible.

“Wanna cum inside you”, he admitted, letting his hand wrap around her throat. “Can I, baby?”

“Only if you bring back that angriness you were showing earlier in the garage”, she smirked. “It was fucking hot”.

“You want rough, uhm?”, Lando smirked once again, adding more pressure to her throat. “Ask for it, angel”.

“Please, Lan. I need you”, she whined, not really able to properly form sentences at his sudden domination. 

Y/N started to grind against his crotch, feeling some relief from her neediness. But most definitely wasn’t enough. So Lando switched their positions, pressing her against the couch and kissing her once again, as if his life depended on it. 

She was wearing a skirt, and Lando easily found access by pulling her tongue to the side. His fingers ran through her folds, making her moan on his mouth, shivering with the contact on her pussy. It felt even better when he started pumping two fingers inside her.

“Oh, Lando”, she whimpered. “So good, baby”.

“You like it, pretty girl?”, he smirked. “Wanna cum for me, uhm? I want you to cum on my fingers”

“Yes, please. Make me cum. I wanna cum, Lan”.

Y/N had been so far gone for Lando through the whole day that she came undone for him in seconds. But only his fingers weren't enough. She wanted to feel his frustration as a whole, pinning her down on the couch and fucking her senseless. 

“Baby, you’re so needy today”, he smirked, gripping on his cock and brushing the tip on her folds. Both of them moaned with the contact, loving to be this intimate with each other once again. “I'm gonna fill you up so good”

“Please, I need it so bad”, she cried.

When Lando finally put it inside her, Y/N immediately threw her arms and legs around him, wrapping herself onto him, needing to be as close as possible to her boyfriend. Together, they setted a firm pace that had them both in sync at giving each other pleasure. He held her by the throat and kissed her dearly as their hips kept meeting over and over again.

Lando transferred all his anger and frustrations onto his movements, loving that Y/N gave him the opportunity to feel better like that. At the end of the day, he would always win if he was with her. He knew that as he kissed her, feeling her pussy starting to clench around his cock.

“Gonna cum again, baby?” Lando asked, and she hummed, trying to nod, but being kept from moving by his hand on her throat. “Hang on, I'm almost there too. Wanna cum together?”

“Yes”.

“Then be a good girl and wait”, he asked, now picking the pace a little bit up, chasing for his high. Lando quickly found it, feeling his veins thicken downstairs and her nails digging on his back. “Fuck, baby, so tight for me. Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, Lan. Make me cum”

Lando lowered one of his hands to her clit and rubbed it until she came undone for him. Less than a second later, he filled her up with his own cum, finally letting his weight collide over her body. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around Lando and kissed his temples, trying to catch her breathing once again. He relaxed under her touches and pressed kisses to her collarbones as they laid in silence.

“I love you so much”, he said. “Thank you for this. For being my biggest supporter”

“I love you too. And I'll be here for you through the bad and good days”, she assured. “And will suck your cock every time you look pretty when throwing a tantrum”.

They giggled with her statement, sinking into each other, wanting nothing more than to just stay cuddled together, even though they knew they should get going. After all, they had a flight to England to catch.

“So… round two at the plane?”

Lando's taglist - @celestialams @lizaschronicles @kapsylia @igotnorrrizz @hiireadstuff @bishhhitsaurion @bborra @sltwins @riccdannyf1 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ctrlyomomma @alltoomaples @ellen3101 @carmenita122 @lqvesoph @poppyflower-22 @logischeroktopus @saturnbloom77 @formulaal @taisferrari-blog @eclipsedcherry @readingbringsjoy @kenzieyeballs @alilcloudy @eringaitskill @Honeyhatty12 @dreamercrowd @demig0d0fapollo @beyond-the-ashes @ijustgomessitupx @laiba26 @marialovesf1 @katieschry1 @loveofmylife12 @diaa-20 @likedbygaslyy @notturloverr @c-losur3brizzy-xogorgrussell @loveofmylife12 @morketheduck @kravitzwhoree @darkacademicvibes @jenna123456789 @crispymcniall @phantomxoxonoobmaster6931 @ohlahlaa @c0rpsecore @rafegirly @darleneslane @annalisenelson @nataliambc @amorydsmt @slytherinholland @hstylesmermaid @harrysdimples05

⤿ add yourself to the taglist!

[ccrisntok]

Your Masterminds, Whit Young, and Ace Markey! (mm! whace au)

(Spoilers lol)

what normal fellas ahahahahaha (I have poured my entire soul into these two there is nothing left of me)

A basic summary of their relationship:

Whit has spent like, over a year manipulating Ace into being complacent in his plans. In his own eyes, Ace is a sorta-stupid lacky, who he's constantly love-bombing to keep obedient. Although, he is a bit glad for the company... it was sorta empty when Ace was "dead" and they couldn't really talk. And maybe Ace almost dying from his fake execution was a bit disturbing. But he's sure its nothing! (He fell in love with him like a moron.)

Ace has fully fallen in love with Whit. He's not happy about it, but it happened. As a result, he's basically ruined any semblance of his own morality, just so he doesn't lose Whit, or the affection he knows is mostly performative. He's more than happy to kill his fuck-face classmates, after a... bit of prodding, and honestly, he'd do anything Whit asked at this point, even die. He'll still complain about it, though.

i tried to be as original as humanly possible, but I'm def giving credit to @talkativeanonymous, @acethehorseishere, and @a-blog-for-kat all for inspiring these two in one way or another (esp. a-blog-for-kat lol).

anyway there's the art, here's the promised lore. warning for like a million words. I'm serious. It's 1,400 words. you can stop here i don't blame you.

also sorry for the odd looking bullet points, didn't realize you couldn't have gaps lol!

This au operates on a probably un-canon assumption that I pulled out of my ass. That is that Mai Akasaki is both a student in the class of 27, and that she is the "time loop" student. She is usually a part of the killing game, but she isn't this time, for reasons I'll explain in a sec.

This specific loop, Mai is attempting to dissuade the (usual) mastermind from wanting to start a killing game in the first place. That mastermind is Whit Young.

She goes about this by trying to curb Whit's main reason for his descent into despair, his resounding loneliness, by giving him championship. Charles hasn't softened up to the others in any regard yet. But that wasn't the main reason, unbenouced to Mai.

In this loop, and this loop alone, Mai sets Whit and Ace up to be friends. She hopes they can help each other, since they usually end up more or less alone in their school life.

Surprisingly, it works. They get along decently well, although a codependency starts to develop on Ace's side.

Around this time, Whit takes up an internship at XF Future, which Mai doesn't realize. He innocently wants to explore other job options, "Matchmaking" not really being a stable career forever.

Obviously FX Future isn't a normal Tech Company. Whit starts to change, in a barely noticeable fashion, the longer he works there.

Ace notices Whit's contacts start looking a lot more vibrant after Whit takes a couple weeks off school for a "company trip." He thinks it's... sort of pretty.

(Whit's time at XF Future showed him a side of humanity he didn't realize existed. Insane levels of greed, using the concepts of "ultimates" to guide a stupid pubic where the Government wanted them, generally a dystopia. It feeds into his existing detachment from humanity, until he hits a breaking point, setting his sights on ending the "Ultimates" concept by killing the newest class in the public eye, including himself.)

(XF Future develops a new sort of technology, prosthetic "eyes" that basically turn you into a living remote control, able to connect to an entire building if its connected via a computer system. Security cameras, doors, fucking air conditioning- everything.

(Whit offers himself as the test dummy, and it goes perfectly.)

Anyway, Mai decides to talk to Ace, since she's starting to realize he's becoming a bit... softer after hanging out with Whit so much? And hopes like, for once, he'll actually accept help for his mountain of problems.

He doesn't take this conversation very well.

Mai, with knowledge from dozens of loops, accidentally brings up an extremely traumatic event, simply mentioning the name "Tyler" once.

In a blinding mix of rage and horror at Mai's knowledge of the event, that Ace has literally never even spoken about in this timeline, Ace shoves her away from him.

She falls backwards, and splits her head on a desk, killing her instantly.

Ace, in a horrified frenzy, calls Whit, literally his only friend.

Whit shows up. Ace expects him to freak the fuck out, call the cops, or something like that... But he doesn't.

Whit simply tells him they were going to hide the body together, not even remotely caring about Mai's death.

yeah that's a little fucking weird, and its terrifying, but going to jail is scarier sooo Ace goes along with it!

After this, Whit wraps Ace into uncharacteristically cruel pranks against some of their classmates and others at Hopes Peak, oftentimes resulting in physical injury.

He acts like these are completely normal and funny, while Ace is both freaked out by it, and sort of enjoys enacting pain on people he didn't like.

Along the way, Whit notices Ace starting to fall for him. Horrible news for Ace, since Whit plays into those emotions by becoming much more physically and emotionally affectionate. Which he doesn't enjoy, like, at all... not a bit...

Whit convinces Ace to assist him in greater and greater acts of violence until Whit just straight up kills someone (not a classmate, a stranger.)

Ace is of course tied into everything way too deep to stop now, and after all this... he doesn't really want to. So he stays as Whit's accomplice for months, up until Whit's weirdo behavior arrives at the idea of the killing game. He references the "First Killing Game", which Ace had never heard of.

The idea is a bit intense for Ace, but at that point, he didn't have anything beyond Whit. If it took this to stay with him... He'd do it. Even if in the end, they both were going to die.

So they get to work!

Ace had been taking engineering classes at Hope's Peak in hopes of getting out of jockeying, and he'd helped his family build sheds and shit since he was a kid, so he focused on the construction and executions.

Whit wired the building an all-encompassing computer system he could control, as well as stealing "Mono-TV" from XF Future, a robot he can fully control to be the "host" of the game.

He also steals the "mind wiping" technology from XF Future. It's weirdly easy to steal stuff from this company, hm? It's almost like they aren't protecting it...

Whit also uses another piece of experimental biological technology... on Ace.

A screen connected to his brain, a lottt less invasive than Whit's eye surgery. It doesn't impact Ace mentally, it just gives him the ability to produce visible projections for easy construction, communicate with Whit remotely, (and give Whit a way to always know what Ace's condition.)

The screen is unclipped when the game starts, but the brain implant is still connected to Whit, so he can detect Ace's condition.

After kidnapping the class of 27 and wiping their memories... It all starts. A killing game, streamed live to the entire nation.

Whit and Ace start off as a part of the class, interacting with the others like normal, a pretty decent show. Things go roughly as planned, putting everyone in the positions Whit wanted them. Untilll... chapter 2.

Ace gets his ass jumped, and almost dies prematurely. This is fine, Whit privately makes sure the wounds properly cleaned, but it does fill Whit with an... ominous feeling.

Ace still kills Arei, a part of the plan, and gets "executed", so he can more easily upkeep the executions and such behind the scenes.

After the screen playing the fake execution turns off, Whit checks to make sure Ace didn't get injured in his running around... but can't detect anything.

At all.

Ace's heart wasn't beating.

He actually, seriously, had a fucking heart attack.

(Ace's heart attack was for a combination of reasons. Firstly, his heart was actually in pretty bad condition as a result of his eating disorder, something Whit had figured was "over" by now. It wasn't!)

(Second, in that moment, the idea that maybe, just maybe, Whit could have been double-crossing him came to Ace. What if Whit loaded the guns? What if Ace's use was done, and Whit was finally getting rid of him? It was terrifying because he could die, and terrifying because... It'd make sense. It was all that ever happened to him.)

So he had a heart attackkk lameeeeee

This makes Whit tweak the fuck out, internally. (lol pretend his spooky ass sprite happens AFTER the execution, not before. shh its all made up its all pretend)

After Levi gets taken to the infirmary, Whit drops Charles off at his room as quickly as he can, then fucking BOLTS IT to a hidden passageway in his room to the like... Mastermind area, with the execution chamber.

Whit manages to resuscitate Ace in time, barely. And even after that, he's in pretty bad condition. But he's conscious and mobile.

Whit gets him as comfortable as he can, and after spending the night, he sort of... has to leave. He does some tweaks to Ace's brain screen thing, creating a functional heart monitor that Ace (and he) can watch.

As often as he can, Whit sneaks off to the Mastermind area at night to make sure Ace doesn't fucking die in his sleep. But Ace gets... decently better quickly, and returns to his duties overseeing the killing game.

Whit still visits almost every night to make sure Ace wakes up, which he can't really explain to himself. Ace was... supposed to be disposable anyway. Why would it matter if he died?

Anyway yeah the rest of the game happens. No clue there.

In the end, Whit and Ace come out as masterminds (happy pride).

I have a comic planned for how the end goes, soooo... that's it!

holy fuck! my fingers! hi the whole 2 people who made it down this far... uh... did you like my lore.....? do you want me dead now for having you read 1,400 words of two evil homsexuals...? 😅 love you thank you im sorry.

[pankielovesfan]

The Prime Shimmer breaks Fan's code and that's really cool

I've recently thought more about just how incredibly important The Prime Shimmer IS to Fan's entire story and character, and about breaking apart from the show and helping him put in effort to improve. Even if this was already established and said countless times, I've started to understand it even deeper when I think about it more sooo I wanted to write this out

As the core part of Fan, he loves the show and all its characters. Everything he's ever known and been surrounded with has been related to it and he loves Inanimate Insanity very much and is practically made of that admiration. However, the first time he comes in contact with something from outside the show, it's the shimmer egg. Something he clings to desperately.

The fact that the egg is the first thing he's interacted with that isn't part of the show means a lot to his character, considering how he immediately attaches to it, takes care of it, and values it so deeply. As said by Fan himself on his blog - before he had the shimmer egg with him, he didn't even know how to care. It shows just how significant the egg is for Fan's development in so, so many different ways for representing his path in life. Not sure how to work this into it, but he's mentioned how the egg also helped him feel less lonely.

When he meets them, the way Fan treats The Prime Shimmer in the show is very unique to his character and has always been... so different. He's typically very disconnected from other people, especially with how he's supposed to be a "viewer" for the show, and experiences little to no empathy or care for others because of his love for inanimate insanity as a show, and how he claims to not even know how to care at first. The finale really highlights his feelings for the aliens. He immediately seeks to help them find their other lost child, prioritizing them over his own interests. He really really cares for them, for Fan standards.

All of The Prime Shimmer is so incredibly influential for him to recognize in this way. He actually puts in effort for others instead of sticking to old habits like he does, and I think his general feelings for them are what drives Fan toward progress since what he feels for them is outside of Inanimate Insanity. It's the main hope for Fan's improvement as a person, and I'm very glad Test Tube can still represent that feeling of "being outside of the show" because she came to save him from the ship if that makes sense, she's a part of this to some extent for him. Its lovely.

There's something so beautiful about Fan feeling so much love and protection for the entirety of The Prime Shimmer, creatures that are so removed from the show, something he wasn't made to love or care for. It makes it feel very genuine, caring for it in a way he doesn't care for the other contestants. Through caring about something outside the show, he also learned how to care about Test Tube and recognize her as separated from it, seeing her as an actual person which he rarely can do for many.

It's so fun how Fan can just always tie back to themes of change. Fan, notoriously inflexible and stubborn, allows himself to perceive change and opens his mind to that development to protect the lives he's learned to care for. Starts crying. i think this guy will be the end of me

anyway thanks for reading my insanity.. Fan is willing to try for the prime shimmer which can extend to other people he cares for yay

[lunarw0rks]

Hello! I just found your blog and I just started reading everything I saw 😅. Can I request 141 + König + Alejandro with a pregnant reader? They don't know yet and when the reader will break the news they are really stressed with work and end up taking it out on the reader, they end up getting into an argument and saying they hate the reader and that their life would be so much better without the reader in it (😈). The reader takes this seriously and leaves when they are asleep... Months later they meet again when the reader is on her way to the hospital to give birth (😈). Angst to fluff pls. If you don't feel good about writing or it's too big, that's fine. Have a nice day and thank you so much for all the time you spend writing to us.

The Things We Say // 141 Drabble

Summary: You're expecting, but it's not good news. To him, at least. Your relationship takes a hit, but once he meets your child, he's swallowed with regret for how he treated you.

Warning(s): angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of premature birth/complications, mild injury/blood, strong language, established relationship, fem!Reader, no use of y/n

A/N: I was hurting my own feelings---but, there's fluff after the angst, so don't get too upset besties<3 Hope you don't mind anon, I took some creative liberty because I didn't want them all to have the same plotline. | Word Count: 5.9k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

SYNOPSIS; he had been in the thick of it lately, sometimes more overwrought when at home with you than in active combat, it seemed. Conversations were either abrupt, crude, or nonexistent—often just building on top of the tension building between the two of you. Relationships were supposed to be fifty-fifty, but you felt you were carrying the burden of the whole percentage. That’s why the news couldn’t have come at a worse time—you, staring at the two lines instead of one. No matter how long you stared, double-checked the diagram, the answer was the same. Pregnant. So, now you knew two things for certain, you were expecting, and most heartbreaking—the other one responsible was at his worst. To break the news to him, it took every fiber of your being.

⋘ » ☆ « ⋙

AFTERMATH; nine months of hell. That’s how you would answer if someone asked. Few people did though, even at work or out on the street. There was the occasional boy or girl, how are you feeling. But they were being polite, or taking pity on the pregnant woman without a ring on her finger. The pregnant woman with bags under her eyes, the one who winces with each step because she’s ready to pop. None of it meant anything to you, because the other half of this responsibility had been left in the dark, and not for much longer. You weren’t raising this child alone, no matter how irate he was going to be when you contacted him.

Price

One of John’s many talents; stewing on his feelings, keeping them suppressed for an unnatural amount of time.

Often so long that he forgot about the source of his anger once he had time to catch up to them. That is… Until his work was involved. Then he was an entirely different man, often spending his time deep in a bottle and with a nose deep in paperwork, with little regard for anyone else around him.

His control, it was typically so consistent, that he knew not to bring his professional problems home. But lately? It’s been anything but typical. He wasn’t what you would call mean, but there was definitely a negative word to describe it. Cold? Apathetic? Perhaps even unwelcoming?

The bickering, if you could call it that, had droned on for several minutes now. Though, it was mostly you venting your frustrations to an uninterested Price. ❝I know it’s not good timing, John. Why the fuck do you think I’m in here trying to reason with you? Are we just supposed to ignore this until we can’t anymore?❞ You hissed, tempted to rip the paperwork from his grip to get him to pay attention.

He always wanted children, but not right now. Naturally, that’s when it happened. He felt like he was drowning, at first only professionally, but now personally too. The funds weren’t a problem, the kid had two parents, but… you and him—nothing was working.

❝Sweetheart, I’m in the thick of it right now. Please.❞ He didn’t need to raise his voice for you to see how irritated he was. Perhaps at the baby, you, himself, or all the above. ❝I have a meeting.❞ He stood up from his workspace, steaming coffee in hand.

John walked away from you like you were a pestering soldier, not the mother of his child. Enough was enough.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

He thought he was slick, only giving you physical checks to see your face, to ensure that you were indeed alright. It was often the coffee shop within equal walking distance of your two separate homes. John would always slide the amount you needed across the table, a look of remorse on his face. Each monthly meeting, your stomach would grow in size, as did your drained expression.

But you wouldn’t talk to him. You would only text him the amount, nod when he asked questions. It was the worst torture you could put a man like John through—one that needed the approval of his loved ones. It just couldn’t happen, not yet. The wounds of how he treated you, they were too fresh, even after nine months of this routine.

To be truthful, you debated on even calling him when you went into labor. You could do it alone, right? With just the support of the delivery nurses, and most of all your baby girl as the reward? Perhaps you could wait until after, give him the respect to at least meet his daughter. For someone not carrying a child, he looked just as beat; sunken eyes, less tidy facial hair than usual, and somehow even more tobacco on his breath.

John was clawing himself from the inside out, begging for something other than a “yes” or “no” from your lips.

—

❝I can’t do this,❞ you repeated it about fifty times, tears streaming down your cheeks from both the pain and the distraught feelings. That plan you had to not call him, it was falling through quite quickly. This level of agony? You needed someone other than a doctor. You needed the father, as much as it pained you to admit.

❝Yes, you can dear, women have babies everyday.❞ Bless the nurse, she was trying her best to keep you calm, but it didn’t work.

What if something went wrong? If somehow you didn’t make it but your baby girl did, she would be alone until he got here… That couldn’t, no—wouldn’t happen. He needed to be there, right beside this bed to hold her in case you couldn’t.

In between your pained grunts, you finally spit out what you’d been trying to tell her, finding a split second of sensibility during all this distress. ❝Call… John. Please, call him!❞

—

The doors swung open faster than any of the personnel, his gaze softening when he saw you breathing in a patterned fashion. The nurse beside you gave him a nod, freeing your hand for him to take her place. John wasn’t going to miss this, and frankly, he was irked that he almost did. But he wasn’t irked at you; he was irked at himself for taking this for granted.

His soothing voice talks you through each contraction, a soothing hand dabbing away the sweat and tears streaming down your face.

❝I got you, sweetheart. You’re almost done pushing.❞ Though he looked gruff on the outside, inside he was distraught. You had maintained the cold shoulder throughout the pregnancy, but you still called him here? You were more than he deserved in his eyes.

The last round of pushing, and they were close together now. You had about thirty seconds to say this, before you were screaming again.❝I’m glad you’re here.❞ Despite all the pain you were in, you gave his hand a squeeze, staring at him with a glossy expression.

His eyes nearly watered; the first sentence you had uttered to him in months, and it was clear you meant every bit of it. You needed him and so did your daughter, right here right now. He pressed a kiss to your temple, a soothing massaging your shoulder.

John kept his tone firm on purpose, to emphasize how deeply he cared for you right now. ❝I’ll always be here for you, love. Always.❞ 

Simon

Simon loved deep; hated even deeper.

It was one of the features that drew you to him in the first place, how blunt he could be, how his broodiness contrasted your personality in more ways than one. His cynical behavior could be humorous, could be reassuring, but most of all—bitter. To add stress to the equation, to bring it home? He was an explosive disaster waiting to happen.

❝Simon,❞ you approached from behind, holding the test in your hands, because you knew the first question he would ask when you told him; is if you took one. Well, if he wasn’t actively cursing under his breath, he would’ve.

Instead, he merely flicked his eyes over for a brief moment, as if you were a stranger on the street that said excuse me. ❝Simon.❞ Your tone grew firmer, clutching the stick with more apprehension.

❝Bloody Christ, what?❞ He shifted in his seat, bloodshot and hooded eyes that only twisted the knife further. You couldn’t tell him now, not with the pressure of being on the spot. The right words just wouldn’t come out, prompting you to put the stick behind your back. ❝Goddamn nuisance.❞ He muttered under his breath as if it was only supposed to be an internal thought. 

Though, he didn’t look all that remorseful about it—at least on the outside.

He had never said anything like that before, at least not to your face. It seemed, all the weeks of tension and cold shoulder, it was enough. You were done and out the door the second he’d dozed.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Simon made a few futile attempts to reach out, but his own stubbornness prevented him from ever being face-to-face. He beat himself up so badly, and from his side of things—he’d only lost one person, not two.

It pained you to ask the delivery nurse to call him. You wanted to shove the crowning newborn right back inside and hold off, to go find him yourself and smack sense into him for putting you through this agony. But you couldn’t. Quite literally couldn’t get up, and didn’t want to. Resulting in pettiness and venom would make you worse than him because you would be using this child as a pawn.

He said nothing, but his eyes said enough. The nurses put a sterile drape over his shoulders, but he paid them no mind. His amber eyes remained on you; a bulging belly and an expression of pure agony. Had he missed something, a crucial chapter of your new life post-breakup? Most of all, why did you call him?

❝Hold my hand.❞ Simon found the side of your bed, allowing you to dig your fingernails into his forearm until there were imprints. He had few words, but the countenance of concern and guilt said it all. If this wasn’t his… you would’ve done this alone, or the father would be here. Then it dawned on him; it was his.

—

Hours passed, and he still hadn’t mentioned the obvious. Nine months without his support—financial or moral. You needed rest, as did the baby girl—so you were getting it, first and foremost. The adult matters would be better talked about when you weren’t still freshly recovering.

Simon tapped his foot against the tile, sitting in the chair beside the bed. He was unsure of who to keep an eye on more; the newborn swaddled in her own crib, or you, exhaustedly sleeping in your hospital bed. Though he’d held the girl, it felt forbidden, like he was only a placeholder until your body recovered enough to do it yourself. It was shock preventing him from feeling, not cruelty.

You stirred awake, a sigh of contempt when you laid eyes on him. The labor was a blur your mind had already shut out, and you truly didn’t recall the nurses contacting him. Your eyes were glossy with dark circles underneath them. ❝I’m…❞ It was like the night you tried to tell him but couldn’t, the words wouldn’t come out.

Simon saw that look in your eyes; the fear that he would explode, or storm out and leave you with the child forever—but he wasn’t. All the years of trying to not relieve the same mistakes his own father made, it would be useless if he did that. And he couldn’t, seeing that look of desperation on your face, how you looked as if you were going to burst into tears at the sight of him. That look, it was the same one that gnawed at him during those months apart, how he found you and your belongings gone.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. ❝Shh… Don’t apologize. Ever.❞ He was hovering now, a kiss pressed to your forehead. Whatever you decided when you were healed enough, he would take it like a man, because he had the audacity to speak to you like a man who wronged him.

Soap

Soap was… a complicated man to say the least. Usually, he was sweet, charming, with the right amount of cockiness. His ability to make you laugh drew you into him in the first place. But it was dwindling—at least during the past few weeks. Now, all that remained was smugness and bitter mutters under the breath.

❝Don’t be a child about this, we’ll figure it out,❞ He says, slamming his car door behind you. The first time you two had been out to dinner together in weeks, spoiled because you finally broke the news to him. You teared up in the restaurant because his reaction was anything but accepting, and frankly, he found it embarrassing.

He hadn’t meant it that way—that’s just how it came out.

He truly did want to figure this baby thing out, but it was the worst possible timing; an all-time high of stress at work, bickering with you constantly. And now, a third added to the dynamic with only months to prepare? It was too much. ❝Oh, I’m acting like a child?❞ You walked into the house, taking off the jewelry you had on to look nice for him.

The bickering that ensued—it was nothing nice, nothing you’d care to remember.

❝I don’t want you to go, lass. Don’t do this.❞ You had already made up your mind. Perhaps it was your emotions clouding your judgment, that instinct you felt being a few weeks along… It didn’t matter, you couldn’t be here. Not with him, not right now.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You were about to pop, literally any day now. You knew that meant you would have to talk to the father, and interact with him for about eighteen years—at least be civil. But the rationality of it, how you would have to co-parent with him, didn’t ease your anxieties. Of course, he was adamant about checking up on you and being more of a parasite than the fetus taking half your energy.

You closed the car door with your hip, a slow waddle up the pavement. Where the hell your keys were, that was another story—something you would deal with once you rolled yourself up to the door.

❝What the hell are you doin’?❞ The voice nearly made you drop all the grocery bags in your grasp, a jumpy shriek coming out. When you whipped around, it was Soap, a look of upset on his very expressive face.

Once you started to recover from the scare of a lifetime, an unintentional one at that, a scowl formed on your face. It was like he had a sense of the absolute worst time to show up and annoy you, especially now that you were swollen and extra agitated. ❝A phone call would’ve worked, Johnny. Or, I don’t know, maybe a ‘hey I’m right behind you, lady’!❞ You attempted to mock his accent out of pure frustration, but he didn’t find the humor in it, at least not right away.

He yanked the bags out of your grip, stomping up the steps of your porch. ❝You shouldn’t be carryin’ these.❞ You really should not be doing that, he was right, but the thought of him being your grocery boy—showing up even more? ❝Keys.❞ He held out his free hand, the other one swimming in bags. It was ridiculous, apparently, you weren’t allowed to twist a key now, either.

You shove past him once he’s turned the key, squeezing past and joining him in the kitchen. Without a word, he starts putting away anything and everything you bought. Some are nutritious, others purely to feed your cravings. ❝Don’t start.❞ You pointed a finger at him when he picked up a family-sized bag of candy, a smart-ass comment daring to escape his lips.

❝God, I can’t believe you, Johnny. Sneaking up on me like that, I could’ve fallen.❞ You put an instinctive hand on your stomach, still irked by his presence.

❝No, you would’ve fallen carrying all those bags yourself. I have a right to be worried, it’s my bloody kid too.❞ He retorts, a hand on his hip. He’s done all he’s obligated to now; carrying and putting away your groceries.

You tighten your lips into a line, fighting the urge to start a full-blown argument. ❝Yeah, you remind me every day, so thanks for tha— Shit.❞ It seemed, raising your voice counted as exerting yourself because there was a sudden cramp in your stomach, a trickle down your pant leg.

Soap’s eyes widened, seeing you go from scolding him to hunched over and holding your stomach. You had forced yourself into labor, now standing on knees about to buckle. ❝I’ve got you, now get going woman, before I put you over my shoulder.❞ He felt he had never moved faster, a tight fist around your forearm to keep you standing as he led you through the door you had just walked in.

—

It seemed there was little time between being admitted to actively pushing. This kid wanted out, and right this second. You let out a shriek as the back of your head slammed against the pillow, sweat trickling down your brow as you cursed and wailed. ❝I know it hurts, love, but you got this.❞ He allowed you to clamp down on his hand, to dig your fingertips until they drew blood.

❝Oh, you know do you?!❞ You snapped at him, finding it hard to be nice when you felt like you were being ripped in half.

❝If I wasn’t,❞ you grunted in between words, face scrunched and labored breathing, ❝stuck in this damn bed, I would so… hurt you right now, Johnny.❞ He fought the urge to snicker just a little bit, masking it with his concern for you. Seeing you in agony, even when you were actively snapping at him, it didn’t please him one bit.

Well, you were arguing with him, so he knew you weren’t actively dying.

If you used enough of that anger, it would help you literally push through the pain, just like how it caused the kid to want to come out right this second. For once, his pestering and sarcasm were actually helping.

With one final wave of it, your back arched off the bed and finally, the loud cry of an infant filled the white-walled room. Soap nearly fainted, if he was being honest—he was awfully squeamish for someone who dealt with blood daily. But it was your blood and… fluids, things that made him shiver when he pictured how painful that could’ve been.

The doctors were speedy, cleaning off and checking vitals. All he could do was stare at the newborn—his baby boy. And then he looked at you, choked up and stared in awe at the baby set on your chest. ❝Jesus…❞ he leaned down, placing a gentle hand on yours as it held the child’s head.

All the fighting, all the bickering, even the late-night candy runs—they were well worth it. He had a second chance now, to make things right with you, and to be a decent father.

Gaz

Gaz could be hotheaded, sometimes downright blunt, especially when he’s passionate about something to do with his work. The night you were going to break the news, nothing was going right. He came home in a huff, not bothering to take off his boots before plopping on the sofa. Kyle had a right to be stressed; look at what he does all day. But he didn’t have a right to be cruel to you because of it.

You took a seat beside him and set the positive test down on his thigh. A silence followed by a scowl, and then he finally spoke. ❝You can’t be serious.❞ It nearly gutted you right then and there. His leg began to bounce anxiously the longer he glanced at the life-changing test results. 

❝Kyle, I—❞ you weren’t even sure what you were trying to say either, not that he gave you a chance. ❝I don’t have time for this, babe. I really can’t do this right now.❞ He put his head in his hands, a flustered groan escaping his lips.

❝Are you saying you don’t want this? That we shouldn’t have done this?❞ You were suddenly standing, eyes wide and watering. You felt like you had just been dumped on the street, despite his unclear tone.

He peered up, lips in a blunt line. ❝Maybe we shouldn’t have.❞ You could’ve crawled into a hole and died right then and there, but you merely nodded. Nodded and then left the room, leaving him to his moodiness. No, it wasn’t the best timing, but that didn’t give him the right to brush you off, to treat you like a distasteful afterthought.

It wasn’t just you anymore, it was you and the baby.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

It was one of his few days off—though he wasn’t feeling much relaxation. You were still hot and cold with him, now about halfway through your third trimester; thirty-two weeks to be exact. It was nearing that point, where he had prepared a spare room for the baby, began coordinating plans for labor, etc… 

But he still didn’t feel ready, or like he deserved you after how cruel he was that night. Kyle was only helping you to help you and the baby.

His phone buzzed, right when he had begun relaxing for the evening. 10:32 PM; and it was your number. The second he heard the voice of a nurse on the other line, not yours, his feet were halfway out the front door.

—

❝I’m fine, Kyle. I’m fine…❞ It seemed no matter how many times you repeated it, he didn’t seem to believe it. From the minute he entered your hospital room to now, he had at least one hand on you, a thumb grazing the cuts and bruises on your body. You had been in a car accident—mild for you, life-threatening for a preemie. ❝You’re not fine.❞ he said firmly, eyes darting towards your clothes bagged in the corner—bloodied and with windshield pieces still embedded.

Kyle was more worried about you at first, but you were solely concerned about your baby—left alone in the NICU being poked and prodded by personnel. You had to be induced, otherwise he wouldn’t have made it past the front doors. Now, he was too weak to be visited, too small and vulnerable to be held by his own mother yet. It was gut-wrenching; hours without a solid answer, because his chances depended solely on him making it through the night.

Now, there was nothing to do but wait, perhaps see your baby through a glass box if you got lucky.

—

❝He’s perfect,❞ Kyle peered down at the preemie in his hands, a baggy blue cap on his head. There were small babies, and he was somehow smaller. What once was the scare of a lifetime, it was now a passing memory to remind Gaz of what he could’ve lost. He would never make the mistake of talking to you like that again, even if the two events didn’t correlate.

What if the night you left, you got into an accident then, and it was much worse? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, plain and simple. ❝It’s cheesy but, he does have your eyes.❞ You whispered from the nursing chair you were sitting in, still healing and fatigued from the ordeal. The picture in front of you; Kyle looking at your son with such love—it was irreplaceable and forever stuck in your memories.

❝Correct. But he has your scowl, babe.❞ Gaz flicked his eyes upwards, feeling you gently nudge his shin at the sound of the comment.

It didn’t matter the things he said months ago, as long as he cherished this new life with you as much as you planned to.

Alejandro

Alejandro always had passion for the things he cherished; you and his work, nothing else mattered more. Passion led to intense feelings, intense feelings turned into misplaced bitterness. It wasn’t your fault that you were expecting, no more than it was his, at least. He knew that and had he just taken a breath and thought more carefully about his phrasing, this whole mess could’ve been avoided.

❝Do you think I wanted to interrupt you, Alejandro?❞ You hissed, standing in the doorway of his office with the positive test in your hands. He had just looked at you with such distaste as if you were the root cause of his stress and not his work.

What better way to stir the pot, than to match his wrath? Well, it certainly did that, though seeing him rage was the last sight you wanted to see. Alejandro always had trouble with his anger, often finding himself with all these feelings he had no clue how to control.

❝You always do what you want!❞ There it was, him blowing his fuse. He’d thrown his hands in the air, face tightened into a scowl. He couldn’t leave it at that, either, not when his rage came in such intense waves. ❝You’ll do what you always do—bleed me dry!❞

You couldn’t speak, despite how vicious you felt only seconds before. It seemed too truthful for your liking like he had been waiting for an excuse to spill his guts. ❝As long as you have enough to amuse yourself, I’m nothing to you, right?❞ He wasn’t yelling anymore, but his mocking tone was enough to tear at your heartstrings.

Had he seriously played that card with you—the man always insistent on taking care of you, financially, physically, emotionally? Now, of all times? The argument ended with you slamming the front door behind you, something he would’ve done.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You spent weeks ignoring him, and throughout the pregnancy, it was dry texts or brief calls. His only sign that you were even alive was the notification that you had used his account to purchase necessities. The irony of it made Alejandro nauseous, how awful he made it sound that you were doing what he told you to; to let him take care of you. The fact that you didn’t drain the funds, only bought what you needed, spoke volumes.

❝I’m not upset at you, amor—I wasn’t upset with you.❞

Alejandro reached a hand across the picnic table, a firm but loving grip on your forearm. You looked beat; hair a different length than before, exhausted eyes that were brimming with tears, and most of all a growing stomach. It was all his fault; the reason you didn’t want to face him like this, in fear that he would cut you and the baby off for good. Only, he was there to see your face, not for confrontation or another spat.

It didn’t matter what you said, if you screamed at him right now, or said nothing. Alejandro had made up his mind the night you left. ❝I’ll come to every appointment, parenting class, anything.❞

—

Of all the nights for you to be in labor, it had to be during a wicked storm. You had gone over to his house to make civil conversation over dinner, to at least attempt at repairing things. He had slaved over the stove, cooking his favorite for you. For most of the meal, things were… surprisingly tranquil; even romantic.

You were heavily pregnant, were you supposed to refuse a warm meal? Not a chance. You were too full, too swollen to get up out of the dining chair once the meal finished. And looking out the window? There was no way in hell Alejandro was going to let you drive home in this; droplets whipped down, trees and waste bins flew away from the force of it, and the rain was icy. Well, you were exhausted, and he had a bed he was willing to give up. Your back and feet practically sighed in relief when you laid back in his bed, the one you two once shared. It was a nice feeling, being there again and knowing Alejandro was trying his hardest to plead forgiveness.

About an hour into your much needed-slumber, you felt a pool in the sheets. Instinctually, you figured it was the fetus pressing on your bladder—a downright embarrassing thing you’d have to wake up and explain to him. But… it was clear it wasn’t that. You were in labor and stuck here.

The shriek you let out when you got a violent contraction; Alejandro dashed quicker than he ever did when dodging bullets. His fumbling fingers dialed 911, yanking the comforter off the bed to get a better view of your dilation. Fortunately, he was trained on how to deliver a baby when stranded, or in a country without medical support. But this was his baby and your life was in his hands. If he didn’t do this correctly, if something went wrong, he would never forgive himself.

The ambulance wouldn’t be there for an hour—you didn’t have an hour to spare, this baby was coming now. ❝You can do this, amor, we’re doing this together.❞ One hand clenched yours, the other kept an eye on the crowning baby. Just how you hadn’t woken up sooner, neither of you knew. Perhaps you had gotten so used to cramps and pains, that you thought it was just another sleepless night courtesy of the little one.

—

The moment your wails went silent as his baby girl finally came, Alejandro felt his heart drop. He had to make the worst decision; focusing on the newborn first. He wrapped her in one of his shirts, wiping the fluid and blood from her small face. As he cradled her, a quick hand fingered for a pulse, a loud sigh escaping his lips when he felt one. You had only passed out from the pain—probably doing you a service, considering he didn’t have the proper medication to numb your pain.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of the wailing child, still with gritted teeth. But your baby was there—and her lungs were very clearly working. Alejandro set her down on your chest, allowing you to hold your daughter for the first time. ❝You did so well, cariño. Look at her.❞ He was merely distracting you with the baby on your chest, to not divert your attention towards the state your body was in as he cleaned you up.

Somehow, he had pulled this off with both his girls safe, soon to be checked out properly at a hospital. When you first broke the news, he thought he knew the meaning of being so suddenly thrust into fatherhood, but that took on a whole new meaning after tonight.

König

There had once been a line he didn’t cross, but he did that night. König never yelled at you. He saved that stern side of him for his work because it was acceptable there. But in the weeks that his work had bled onto you, spoiling the relationship, his values seemed to loosen. Though he was a complicated man, a man uncertain of himself and his appearance, he maintained a hardness about him. Ruthless in the field and immensely protective of anyone that had come to love him. 

You approached him as he worked, placing the test on the desk he was sitting at. ❝König, I need to tell you something.❞

With his head facing the paperwork, he merely shrugged at you. Until he saw what you’d placed there, his eyes going wide. But it wasn’t shock or excitement; it was disdain for the fact that this baby was just another interruption—you were just another interruption. ❝I have no time for this, Schatz, you know that.❞

He didn’t need to raise his voice for his words to sting, his bitter tone was more than enough. But he surely hadn’t meant it like that, right? He’d meant he didn’t have time for this right now… right?

❝Why don’t you go rest, then?❞ He asks, picking up the folder that he was reading previously. It wasn’t a request made out of concern, König was patronizing you. His glare was typically enough to make a soldier scramble, but you just stood there for a few seconds, biting back the urge to choke.

How you left that night, it wasn’t dramatic or emotional, it was dry. König tells you to think clearly about this, to sleep on it. But you couldn’t—and you weren’t going to be a verbal punching bag.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

König only called you weekly for appointment updates, or to let you know he had sent you a check. Other than that, words dripped with tension and the urge to say so much more. But you were too stubborn for your own good, and so was he. You were more concerned with hosting life than playing games with a father who treated you like a wimp.

He’d only seen you once, during the second trimester when he showed up at your apartment. You protested, but he showed up anyway, saying he needed “proof” that you and the fetus were safe. The voice on the phone wasn’t enough, in his eyes.

Of course, when you needed him most, screaming and keeling over in the kitchen, he wasn’t there. It was a neighbor that called an ambulance for you because they knew they had a pregnant tenant next door. In fact, it was such a close call, you nearly didn’t make it to the delivery room before the newborn came out wailing.

The only plus side? While the paramedics were deterring you from pushing, you’d sent a text—probably unintelligible—but a text, nonetheless. He knew your due date, how today was only a few days off, and he was in his car before he could grasp the severity of this new life stage.

—

❝I’m here, schätzchen. I’m not going to hurt you again, or him.❞ He hunched over the bed, eyes in a perpetual state of disbelief as he watched you soothe the whining newborn. Clarity hit him like a truck when he heard your screams during delivery, and then he was all in. Not that he had a choice, this was his doing too.

He had given you the financial support to get proper nutrition for you and the baby, to pay for the appointments, but that wasn’t enough—not in König’s eyes. He needed to snap out of his self-pity and be a support system. Whether you wanted to co-parent or work on repairing the relationship, you were not under any circumstances taking care of this newborn alone, at your apartment.

He placed a hand in your hair, threading his fingers through the strands. ❝We can clear out the spare room, hm? There’s more than enough room for the two of you.❞ He was already picturing it, how he was going to pull an all-nighter and get to work on the room, going to your apartment and moving the baby supplies from yours to his.

König didn’t need to state the obvious, that you weren’t bound to any type of relationship besides the one concerning the child. Whether you wanted to move out once the baby hit a certain age or not, he was going to keep an eye on the two of you.

Two of you, not just the newborn you were rocking. It was either both of you, or neither, and he was intent on it being the first option.

If you made it this far - THANK YOU!

[byte-your-tongue]

Sebastian Solace x Crybaby!Reader

(Platonic, GN Reader)

AN: This is actually a repost from my main blog. But i edited it to be more general rather than selfship writing! I haven't written anything that wasn't basic headcanons in a LONG time. So please excuse the first couple ones i do being bad lol.

TW: Blood, gore, violence, vomit, descriptions of injuries, constant talk of an impending death (that doesn't actually happen.)

Run.

That was the only thought coursing through your mind at the moment as you were chased through the halls of the abandoned facility.

You weren't even sure if anything was following you anymore, but your adrenaline fueled brain kept screaming at you to keep moving. And that was where your first mistake lie. You were so caught up in keeping an eye out for flickering lights and sparks coming off fake doors you forgot to pay attention to your other senses.

You couldn't hear anything over your own loud footsteps and heavy breathing, failing to notice the tell tale sign of a wall dweller sneaking up on you until it was nearly too late. You whipped your head around just as the creature struck, scaring it off in the same moment it lunged for your legs.

You let out a loud yelp and stumbled, but refused to break eye contact with the fleeing monster until it was fully gone. And even then you lay on the floor for a minute longer, making sure it wasn't faking its retreat. But when you finally went to pick yourself off the ground your right knee buckled from the injury inflicted by the wall dweller.

Just as you sat down to assess your injuries all the lights in the room flickered, an ominous warning of the Angler approaching. You ground your teeth through the pain and dragged yourself into the nearest locker, slamming the door shut right as the monstrosity roared past.

'Goddammit! I really can't catch a break this time, huh?'

You grimaced as you slowly opened the locker door, switching on your only light source you had managed to find so far: a lantern with half the batteries drained already. It was more likely to anger squiddles, but even after who knows how many failed attempts to retrieve this stupid crystal you still hadn't gotten over your crippling fear of the dark. If anything it's gotten worse during your time down here.

And so you limped along, praying you would be out of this stretch of dark rooms before your light source died out. As you entered through the next door you noted the number: 42. That was important for one reason: Sebastian's shop. Sebastian prefered to hang out further from the entrance that your fellow "expendables" used. Sebastian didn't want to get caught by anyone important enough to pose a real threat, and he wanted to give people time to actually collect enough research to make it worth his effort.

But none of that was important to you right now. At the moment the only thing you cared about was purchasing a med kit and fixing your leg up.

And so you continued limping along, hoping that you would soon hear Sebastian calling out to you.

As you opened the next room, it was finally bright enough to turn off your lantern. It was a long hallway with tall glass windows looking out into the ocean. You moved closer to one, admiring and fearing the inky abyss that stretched seemingly endlessly in every direction.

Your thoughts were cut off abruptly when Eyefestation quickly swam up to the glass, invading your mind with whispers and shouts in a million different voices. You doubled over from the physical and mental assault, vomiting and scrunching your eyes closed.

You slowly crawled along the floor, pain searing through your head, feeling around for the exit with your hands. As you faintly heard the hiss of a door opening the pressure in your mind finally retreated.

Your were definitely worse for wear now. You were nauseous, bleeding, had a splitting headache, had nearly no supplies, and were unable to do anything other than pathetically crawl onwards.

You were convinced you were going to die down here.

Again.

But just a few doors later you heard a quiet voice hiss out at you:

"Hey, over here!"

Sebastian.

Safety.

You quickly located the vent and clawed weakly at the covering, finally getting it loose with a grunt. You dragged yourself through the tight space as you felt your vision dimming.

It was all you could do to finally get into the meager shop before you collapsed fully, your mind and vision going dark as you drifted away into unconciousness. The last thing you heard was a surprisingly panicked shout from Sebastian.

'Ah. He actually cares about me?'

It was the last though you could muster up before finally fully passing out.

...

...

...

It was merely 20 minutes later when you finally awoke, groaning in pain and taking note that your injuries were now bandaged. You looked up to see Sebastian. He was fidgeting with something in his hands, his brow furrowed and the tip of his tail nervously swishing from side to side. As soon as he realized you were awake he perked up and slithered over to you.

"Are you feeling ok? You aren't concussed, right? I bandaged you up and gave you some painkillers, but you really shouldn't take them on an empty stomach so let me know if you have eaten recently."

"Ah..." You slurred your words somewhat, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "I don't think I got any injuries on my head, so no concussion. And I haven't eaten. How much for some food? And how much do i owe you for the medkit? I don't have that much research on me right now..." You trailed off as you saw Sebastian's face shift to annoyance.

"Are you serious?" Sebastian's voice raised and he looked offended. "Do you really think i'd charge you for something like this? How little do you think of me?"

"Oh....." You looked down in embarrassment. "I don't know i just.... i mean i consider you a friend. You're the only safety i have down here and you let me rest in your shop and-" You cut yourself off. "But... but i thought you didn't like me. I thought i was an annoyance..."

You looked down with a look like a kicked puppy as you continued in a small voice:

"I thought.... I thought i was just another expendable to you..."

Sebastian's face was sometimes hard to read, but the look of hurt he wore at that moment was clear as day.

"Y/N...."

'That's the first time he's said my name so softly...'

Sebastian cleared his throat before continuing awkwardly. "I know that... I am not always the most pleasant person to be around. But... I want you to know.. that.. out of everyone down here.. you are someone who i do truly appreciate."

You were stunned for a second. You had only ever heard sebastian either insult you or try to sell you something. The refreshing honesty and compassion in his tone was something you took a second to savor before you finally realized you should respond.

"Sebastian... I'm so glad you like me. I'm so glad you wanna be my friend. It honestly makes me so happy.... I- I-" You trailed off with tears in your eyes. A common sight yet one that managed to shock Sebastian this time around.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Don't go crying after i just said i appreciate you! Do you really not wanna be my friend that bad!" Sebastian panicked, reaching an arm down to comfort you.

You laughed, your tears starting to dry up as fast as they started. "Noooo! You already said you like me!! You can't take it back now!"

Sebastian playfully jabbed at you with one of his much larger hands. "You're damn right! You're stuck with me now whether you like it or not!" He gave a smile full of sharp teeth, one that used to scare you but was now a comfort to see.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while until you finally broke it.

"Hey... if we're friends now can you tell Painter to stop trying to kill me?"

"Hahaha... I think you'll have to take that one up with Painter yourself."

...

"Dammit...."

[megalony]

Special Victim- Part 2

Here is the second part to my Elliot Stabler imagine, I hope you will all like it.

Feedback is always appreciated.

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@elizaelaine

Main Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: While Elliot is at work over the weekend, (Y/n) takes the kids out for a while. But things take a turn for the worst when their youngest girl goes missing.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With his hands clenched into fists at his sides and his shoulders hunched up near his jaw, Elliot stormed ahead. It felt like his body was on the verge of combusting as he veered through the car park that was now swarming with people.

Some looked like they were being allowed to leave or sent home after questioning. Some were trying to get into the shopping centre but weren't allowed inside. Others were police officers canvasing the area and questioning anyone within walking distance.

Elliot had prayed on the way down here that he would be told that Rosie had been found. He willed (Y/n) or even one of the kids to call and say they had her back and there was no need to panic. Or that the security officers there had stopped someone and gotten Rosie back.

He didn't mind being told a stranger had tried to take her as long as someone had gotten her back. But no one had contacted him, and no news was bad news right now.

Elliot could feel his wallet burning a hole in his back pocket. He had two photos hidden away in there, one of the kids from a few years ago just before he and Kathy got divorced. And then one of Rosie that was a few months old. He was ready to start showing that picture of her around and demand people look and tell him if they had seen her anywhere. He wanted to demand that everyone within the vacinity stop and help find his daughter.

He could feel Olivia a few steps behind him as they stormed towards the entrance to the shopping centre.

Without saying a word, Elliot expertly weaved and pushed his way through the few officers and gathering crowds to get to the door. At least there was someone on security at the door to stop people from trying to leave and prevent anyone else from entering and disrrupting the search for Rosie.

His hand reached down and grabbed the badge clipped to his belt which he flashed to show he was allowed to enter.

"Detective Stabler and Benson. Where's my daughter, have you found her yet?"

When his badge was clipped back onto his waistband, Elliot's hands started to flex and clench at his sides again. He had far too much energy radiating through him and he didn't know what to do with himself.

"We haven't found her yet."

Exactly the words Elliot was expecting, and yet it scorched him and made his heart clench to hear them be spoken outloud. He wasn't ready to be doing this or dealing with this situation.

This was his everyday struggle, this is the kind of thing he investigated and dealt with on the job, but it was never this close to home. None of his kids had ever gone missing or wandered off or become a missing child's case. Elliot didn't want to start now. He didn't want to be searching for his own daughter because he had seen it far too many times where the outcome was horrid and a child died or was never found.

He didn't want that happening to his little girl.

He barely felt Olivia's hand on his shoulder as the security guard beckoned them both inside and guided them through the rather vacant hall. They were clearly scouting out each level and corner of the shopping centre and not allowing anyone to hang around or daudle in corridors.

Elliot followed closely behind, his irritation growing with each passing second. How long had his daughter been missing? Was she alright? Was someone with her? Was Rosie wandering this place- or God forbid, the streets, all alone? No. Someone would have seen her wandering alone, they would have stopped her, questioned her, tried to help her or look after her. No one would let her get far on her own.

Someone had to be with her, whether they were a friend or an enemy. Elliot didn't like either option.

He had seen it far too many times when someone posing as a friend took advantage and took a child. They saw one wandering alone, frightened and lost and made the situation ten times worse. He didn't want his daughter wandering the streets alone, but he didn't want her being taken in by the wrong kind of person.

"Then where's my wife and the rest of my kids?"

"This way."

As they walked down the wide hall, Elliot let his eyes dart around him. Shops were still open. People were still fluttering in and out. But out of the shops, in the middle of the centre, people were confined to the sides. They were told to walk in single file and stay close close to the wall. No one could wander or flutter about the middle of the floor. They needed clear views of every angle to find Rosie.

Security were posted near every shop, not letting people in or out if they had a child.

Elliot shuddered when he heard an announcement rattle through the speakers that almost deafened him.

"If anyone sees a little girl, Rosie Stabler, three years old. Wearing a purple dress, white tights and red shoes, they should stop her and alert security immediately."

That gave Elliot some sort of hint, at least now he knew what she was wearing. He hadn't seen any of the kids this morning, he had been at work since yesterday morning. At least now he knew what she was wearing and the colours to look out for. Not that Elliot really thought he would see Rosie wandering about the shopping centre. If nobody had found her by now then she wasn't here. Someone had managed to get out with her already.

Elliot found himself shaking his head as if to shake away the bad thoughts clouding his mind but he felt his heart stuttering when he set his sights on the rest of his family up ahead.

He sped up, bypassing the security man in front of him and leaving Olivia trailing behind.

There they were. When his eyes set on (Y/n), he could feel his heart breaking all over again. He felt his heart impale itself on his ribs, wanting to bleed out and commit his body to the ground then and there.

She was sat with her forehead propped up on her hand, her arm trembling, her upper body hunched over the table. Tears streaked down her face, trembles set in all across her body sending her shoulders rocking back and forth. And the look on her face was what Elliot could only describe as despair. She looked like she had lost all her hope already, and maybe that was his fault.

Maybe he had brought his work home with him too often. Maybe he had let (Y/n) see behind the curtains and see through the cracks. He had let her see how it got to him when they couldn't save a victim or when their cases went cold and they didn't find the child they were looking for. She had seen how often things went wrong, and she was starting to believe that it was their turn now to feel that pain.

"Dad!"

Even though it had been Dickie who initially spotted him and called out for him, it was Maureen who set off into a run first. Her shoes skidded against the polished floor and she knocked into a chair on her way as she aimed for Elliot.

Tears were dried onto her reddened features, her eyes were puffy and barely open and her blonde curly hair whipped behind her shoulders as she aimed for him. The moment she was within reach, Maureen deadlocked her arms around Elliot's middle and smothered her face into his chest.

Elliot quickly bound his arms around her, keeping one arm around her waist and moving the other to cup the back of her neck. His eyes closed and he took a deep breath, tilting his head down so he could smother his face into her hair and breathe in her scent to try and calm himself down. But he could feel his system overworking and panicking itself already.

He didn't want to blink, breathe, move, eat or scream until Rosie was back. He didn't want to carry on dwindling through the minutes, the hours, the days. He wanted everything to stop until his fourth daughter was here and safe in his arms.

"I'm here. It's okay honey I'm here." He took a second to breathe deeply and hold her as close as he could. He wanted all of them encased into his chest, hidden behind his ribs with his heart so he could keep them safe.

"I'm- I'm so sorry, dad. I didn't- I swear, I…" Maureen couldn't seem to get a simple sentence out, for each time she tried she ended up choking on another sob.

Her hands tightened in the back of Elliot's blazer until her nails were threatening to pierce through the material. And the way she was shaking caused Elliot to begin to tremor along with her.

He carefully moved his hands as he tilted back so he could try and look down at her, but he had to cup her face in his hands and angle her head so they were actually looking at one another. The sadness pooling in his eyes made his daughter quiver and she clutched at his wrists, trying to hold him as tightly as she could as if to anchor herself to him and make sure that he would set things right. He had to.

"Hey, hey, what're you sorry for, hm?" His thumbs stroked across her cheeks but it only made her release a sob.

"I was… I was watching Rosie, b-but I didn't see her go. She was playing, t-then she disappeared. It's my fault,"

She had been the one in charge of Rosie. She said she would take her up the escalator and look around upstairs with her. Maureen had been the one holding her hand, the one who let go and who should have followed her as soon as Rosie started to weave in and out of the aisles and play with the clothes.

She shouldn't have let Rosie out of her sights for more than a few seconds, but she did. And someone had taken their opportunity and snatched her. And now she was gone, and it was all Maureen's fault.

She shivered when Elliot tilted her head down so he could attach his lips to her temple, and she felt the way he hushed and breathed heavily against her skin.

"No honey, that's not your fault. You haven't done anything wrong, you hear me?"

When she tried to apologise again, Elliot shook his head and forced a smile. He wouldn't have her panicking and upsetting herself when she hadn't done anything wrong. Letting Rosie out of her sights for a few seconds was normal. Maybe if they had been holding hands, this wouldn't have happened, but that didn't mean that Maureen had done anything wrong. Someone had clearly intervened at some point, and that was the problem here. Not any of Elliot's kids.

With a hushed "Come on," against her temple, Elliot began walking Maureen back towards the rest of their family seated in the food court which had thankfully been evacuated.

A few security officers and police were filtering around the food court to remain close to the centre of attention while everyone else must be searching and scouting around for Rosie. At least this area was empty of others, they could sit and wait in agony and privacy.

Once they were back with the others, Elliot gently ushered Maureen to sit down next to Lizzy.

He leant over to kiss the top of Lizzy's head before he reeled Dickie in for a sideways hug when he saw the panic and longing in his boy's eyes. It wasn't often that Elliot saw any of his kids upset or panicked like this and he hated it.

He was slightly surprised to see that Kathleen wasn't sat down with the rest of her siblings. But the anxiety was radiating off of her in waves, that was clear. She was stood beside the pushchair, the empty pushchair that was carrying the few bits of shopping they had gotten before this disaster happened. Both Kathleen's arms were folded over her chest but her fingers were squeezing and clenching her upper arms. And her foot was tapping away against the floor like she was slipping into a silent state of despair.

Elliot almost couldn't breathe when he turned to look at his wife. He didn't quite know what to do with himself for the first few seconds, especially when (Y/n) tilted her head back like her neck had broken so she could look up at him. A flood wave of tears poured down her face and her shallow breaths became forceful as she stared up at him, waiting for him to say or do something.

For the first time in a long while, tears began to burn in the corners of Elliot's eyes and one finally broke the barrier and trickled down his face.

His heart skipped a beat as he slowly moved so he was crouched down in front of (Y/n). His hands reached out for her and he nudged her knees until he was knelt in between her thighs. The feeling of her knees pressing into his chest was grounding and comforting and Elliot settled his hands on (Y/n)'s thighs as he stared up at her.

A single tear jumped free from the end of (Y/n)'s nose and Elliot could see the tracks slithered down her face from how badly she had been crying.

Why did he go into work this weekend?

Why didn't he ask for a swap so he could of been here with the kids? Why didn't he ask to go home this morning when he worked all day yesterday and then pulled an all-nighter too? He should have tried harder to bargain for some time off, to be home earlier or switch shifts so he could of been here with (Y/n) and the kids.

They might not have come here if Elliot had been home, they might have gone out somewhere else or stayed home. Rosie might not have wandered or been snatched like this if Elliot had been with them. Or if she had, he might have been able to run after them and find her before this situation got out of hand if he had been here from the beginning.

"She's s-still not here." (Y/n) brushed her sleeve against her nose and beneath her eyes to try and stop her face from feeling so tight and taut.

But when she looked back down at Elliot, she could feel another tidal wave washing over her. She reached her arms out and wrapped them around his neck and slid forward until she almost fell off her chair and onto his lap. She felt him push upwards so they were level and he let her head slump onto his shoulder.

His arm circled around her waist while his right hand moved to cup the back of her neck. He smothered his lips against her temple and brushed her hair back behind her ear.

"We're gonna find her, okay? We're gonna go find her and take all our family back home safe and sound."

(Y/n) brushed her nose against Elliot's neck and tried to take a deep breath, but all she could do was wheeze and croak small, shallow gulps of air. Having him here made a difference, though. She could feel her heartbeat thinning out, it wasn't throbbing in her temple or pulsing beneath her skin anymore. She could close her eyes for a few seconds now, instead of look around and try not to blink in case she missed a potential sight of her baby girl.

She could feel Elliot's fingers gliding up and down her back and she stayed tucked up into his chest, pressing her face as close to his neck as she could until she could feel his thundering heartbeat.

Where was their little toddler who brightened up a room and made everyone smile, no matter what mood they were in? How had someone managed to get away with her? How had she slipped away from them in less than three minutes without someone stopping her or seeing or noticing?

How did something like this happen?

Leaning forward, Elliot carefully nudged (Y/n) back so she was sitting up straight again and his hands slithered down her sides until he was holding her thighs again.

"Alright baby, tell me what happened." Elliot knew he didn't need to ask for specific details and times and anything that might seem insignificant. (Y/n) knew that. She knew how this went and what Elliot needed to hear, and she wasn't just another victim's parent. She was Elliot's wife, this was as personal as a case could get.

(Y/n) moved her hand to wipe her eyes once again and she took a deep breath as she tried to gather her thoughts that were as mixed up as clothes in a washer.

"We went into that shop," She tried pointing to the clothes shop but it was further down the hall. "Uh, me and Kathleen and Lizzy were downstairs, Dickie went up, a-and Maureen took Rosie up. We were only apart for a few minutes, that's all. Just- just a few minutes,"

"She was hiding in the clothes." Maureen chipped in, sounding a little calmer now that she knew her dad wasn't going to blame her or think that she was at fault for any of this.

"We went up, and then we couldn't find her, w-we all looked, security checked everyone leaving, she's just not here."

"How long since you noticed she was gone?" Olivia hated to interrupt, but she was the one taking notes and they had no idea how long Rosie had been missing for. They didn't know how long (Y/n) and the kids had been searching before they decided to call Elliot.

Leaning forward, (Y/n) took Elliot's hand up until she was almost kissing the back of his hand. For a moment, he wasn't sure what he was doing until he realised that she was trying to check the time on his watch.

"Nearly an hour."

"Okay, I know you probably weren't looking, but did any of you notice anyone watching you? Walking close behind you or paying attention to you or Rosie?" Olivia looked round the family, but she was met with blank faces.

They hadn't spoken to anyone but each other and the cashiers when they paid for the stuff they bought in the other shops. They hadn't bumped into anyone while walking or noticed anyone walking close up behind them or smiling at them or watching them. And no one had said anything about Rosie or admired her or said she was cute or asked how old she was.

When Elliot looked up over his shoulder at his partner, he could tell they were both thinking the same thing, and Olivia muttered "Opportunist," under her breath.

No one had followed them or seemed to have planned this. They couldn't have foreseen that Maureen would let go of Rosie's hand or that the family would split up or go into that particular shop at that exact moment.

This was someone taking a big risk in an opportune moment, they took Rosie because they had the chance, not because they had planned this or wanted her specifically.

"What now?" (Y/n)'s voice was as quiet as a whisper on the wind and her bleak eyes drifted between Elliot and Olivia.

Rosie wasn't here.

That was the only thought (Y/n) could comprehend and she couldn't fathom out how they were going to find her. She wasn't in this shopping centre, (Y/n) could feel it deep in her bones. Her heart was reaching out for her baby, but she wasn't here. Rosie was too far out of reach and they had no means of getting her back.

She felt Elliot's hands running up and down her thighs before he pushed up to his feet again. And when his hands moved to settle on her shoulders, (Y/n) reached up and held onto his arms and leant her cheek against his forearm. She resisted the urge to close her eyes and wish herself to disappear, she had to be awake and alert.

"I presume you have security cameras around here? We need to see them." Elliot looked ahead to one of the security guards stood next to a uniformed officer.

He didn't feel very confident when he saw the panic that flooded the man's face, but he nodded quickly.

"Yes, they should be working."

"You'd better pray they are." Elliot's snappy response made the guard advert his eyes down to his boots as if he had been shamed. No one wanted to imagine the outcome if the cameras around this centre weren't all operational or in good working condition.

Elliot couldn't believe that Rosie would willingly wander off alone, she was too young and nervous for that. And after all the announcements, the security running around and now the police, if Rosie was on her own they would have found her by now. She had to be with someone.

And if she was, the chances were that they should be able to spot her on the security tapes. They would know which direction she had gone, whether someone had gotten her into a car or left on foot. It had been an hour since she had been taken, they had to be swift so they could get her back unharmed.

(Y/n) could barely feel her legs when she pushed up from the chair, it felt like her entire body had turned numb and all she wanted to do was curl up and wait for someone to bring Rosie back to her.

Her arms moved to secure around her chest and her fingers began to dig into her arms, piercing through her flesh until the skin started to tear beneath her nails. But it helped. The pressure and the sting stopped (Y/n)'s mind from overworking and collapsing itself like a black hole, drawing in every thought possible and consuming them all.

She knew what Elliot was doing before she heard a word pass through his lips. She knew he was asking Olivia if she would stay here with the kids, if she would take their statements and make sure none of them tried to go looking for Rosie on their own. They all wanted to help, they wanted to find their sister and they hated just sitting here like ducks in a pond, waiting for everyone else to do the hard work for them. They wanted to find her themselves and bring her back to safety.

Elliot was in the midst of muttering something to Olivia, something about asking the kids for details. They might have seen something they didn't think was important or they might have seen someone that they didn't think was a threat but could have been. Or they might know of a shop or a little coin ride that had caught Rosie's attention that she might try and stray towards if someone was trying to make her hide or leave the building.

But whatever Elliot said, (Y/n) didn't hear it anymore. Despite standing so close behind him that her arm and shoulder were brushing his back, she didn't hear what he said.

(Y/n)'s head angled to one side and she narrowed her eyes when she watched Dickie get up.

He had been sat for the last ten or fifteen minutes, watching every passer by like a hawk. His neck must have been hurting from how he was constantly looking from left to right to try and scan for clues or people who looked like they shouldn't be here. And now he had gotten up and was leaving the food court.

He was walking with determination in his steps and his hands balled up into fists at his sides. Had he seen something? Had he remembered something important?

(Y/n)'s arms dropped from around her chest and she weaved in between the chairs, ignoring Kathleen trying to reach out for her and Elliot who abruptly stopped talking to see what she was up to.

She made a beeline after Dickie and she sped up when she realised he had approached a security guard.

"…Where? Where did you get this?"

(Y/n) could feel her chest seizing up before she knew what Dickie was trying to argue about. She gingerly reached out and clamped her hand down on his shoulder, causing him to spin on his heels to look at her. There was an overwhelming sense of panic hidden within his eyes and his lips were parted into a bleak expression that made her stomach churn.

"What?"

Looking down, she realised he was gripping something tightly in his hands. What had the security guard found? Was it a clue as to where Rosie might be? Was it something of hers? Was it something belonging to the person who might have snatched her?

Dickie didn't realise he was shaking his head until he watched something twist in (Y/n)'s expression like she was about to smile. She took a shallow breath before she reached out for him, clearly wanting to know what he had in his hands, but he didn't want to give it up. He didn't want to show her. It wasn't fair. It was only going to upset her.

"No-" His whole body started to shake when his step-mum took it from his hands and he stood there, rooted to the spot as he watched every emotion under the sun filter across her face.

A quiet "It's hers," left Dickie's lips as another wave of tears burned behind his eyes, despite how he kept telling himself that he shouldn't be crying. He should be looking for his sister and doing something helpful.

The sorrow continued to build up in Dickie's eyes and he reached forward to shakily rest his hands on (Y/n)'s arm and he realised she was starting to tremor like she had been electrocuted. He sniffed but his head quickly lifted when he saw his dad fast approaching them.

"Baby, what have you got?"

Elliot pushed forward and latched his hands onto (Y/n)'s hips so he could look over her shoulder, but his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach when he saw what she was holding.

Rosie's shoe.

One little, polished red shoe with a bow glued onto the velcro strap. It was Rosie's. They didn't need any forensics to prove that. This was their daughter's shoe, just one of them. She had been struggling, she had been kicking and fighting and she had lost a shoe. She had left them a clue that was as daunting as it was helpful.

(Y/n) found herself unable to breathe as she stared down at the shoe that she had seen Dickie strap up for Rosie before they left the house this morning.

Her baby was lost somewhere with a stranger and only one shoe on her feet. She would be crying that she had lost one shoe, she wouldn't want to walk anymore. She would be crying for her parents, her sisters, her big brother, her family. Something bad had happened to her and they weren't any closer to finding her.

Elliot's lips clamped together and Dickie visibly winced when (Y/n) suddenly launched the shoe. An echo sounded through the hall when the small heel collided with the wall before it hit the floor with a loud clobber.

Both Elliot's hands moved from (Y/n)'s hips to curve around her middle and he reeled her backwards until her back was pressed into his chest and his lips could attach to the back of her head. He held her close in fear that her knees might give way on her and he could tell that she was barely taking in a proper breath.

His shaking hand tried to run up and down her chest before his eyes that were full of malice looked towards the guard in front of them.

"Where did you find that?"

He could feel (Y/n)'s shoulders shaking and her wheezing, croaky breaths. And when she turned her head and pressed her face into his neck, he wanted to scream. His wife shouldn't be in this state of distress, his daughter shouldn't be missing, his other kids shouldn't be frightened and traumatised.

"That's my daughter's shoe, so tell me where you found it!" Elliot's voice rose until he was almost shouting and he could feel his voice travelling around the walls and bouncing off the glass ceiling.

Suddenly it didn't matter if the girls heard him or if he panicked the rest of his family. All Elliot cared about was finding Rosie. They had to know where her shoe had been found.

"On the search, just outside the East exit." The guard pointed to their right but he shrunk back when (Y/n) stuttered through her next breath.

"She's gone- Elliot…"

Elliot turned (Y/n) around in his arms, keeping his right arm around her waist while his other hand cradled the back of her head. His fingers knotted in her hair and he smothered his wet lips against her burning temple, quietly shushing her as he fought off tears.

"No, no baby she's not gone. We're gonna find her."

(Y/n) couldn't help but shake her head against Elliot's chest. Rosie wasn't here, she had felt it in her gut and now she knew she had been right. Whoever took her had managed to get out the shopping centre before it was placed on lockdown. They had gotten her out and they could be anywhere by now, miles away in a car or far away on foot or on the subway. She was gone.

When Dickie stomped his foot, Elliot looked over at him just as his boy shook his head and took off into a sprint.

"No- Dickie don't-" A deep growl left Elliot's lips as he unwillingly unravelled his arms from around (Y/n) so he could set off after his son.

He held his hand out and muttered a rendition of 'it's okay' and 'police', flashing the badge on his hip so no security would set off after Dickie and think he was some kind of criminal or accomplice. Elliot was used to chasing suspects but he would admit that his boy was a fast sprinter and it was clear where Dickie was aiming for.

he was trying to get to the exit. He wanted to get out of here and start combing the streets. He wanted to find his sister because no one else seemed to be doing it for them. No one was doing their jobs efficiently and they had now found that Rosie wasn't even in this place anymore but they were still on lockdown. They had let the perp escape and had locked the rest of them up in here. The one job they had been tasked with, they had failed.

Stretching his right arm out, Elliot managed to clamp his fingers around Dickie's shoulder just before he got too close to the guarded exit and security would have to tackle him to stop him from leaving.

He yanked his son back by the shoulder, causing both of them to stumble and trip and Elliot held him by both shoulders to stop himself from tripping over.

Deep breaths raged past Elliot's lips as he tried to turn his son around but Dickie shook his hands off and stumbled back a few steps. His jacket began to slide off one shoulder, his blue eyes were dark and watering and his chapped lips were parted as he tried to catch his breath back.

He rolled his neck while his chest heaved and he looked around before he knitted his hands together behind his head.

"She's gone, dad. S-someone's got out there with her. We have to get her back."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?"

"She's out there with some creep! We- we have to go out and search for her-" Shaking set in Dickie's system when Elliot pulled him close, both to try and comfort him and get him away from the exit in case he tried to bolt again.

"Dickie, look at this place. There's uniformed officers everywhere and we're going to put up traffic blocks and get people on the streets to find Rosie. But I can't have you running around out there, you need to stay here and talk to Liv and let us find her."

"No."

"No?" Disbelief spread across Elliot's face and he moved one hand to run along his jaw that cracked when he pulled a long expression. This wasn't the time or the place for Dickie to try and argue about his age and how responsible he could be. There was no bargaining today.

"I'm- I'm supposed to protect her. I can't just fucking wait in here-"

"Language. You can and you will, because I need you to. If you want to help, then you go and help Liv and maybe you can help at the station rather than going to your mums, okay? Please?"

It was clear that Dickie wasn't happy with this arrangement, but he knew he didn't have a choice. He was thirteen. Maybe if he was Kathleen's age then Elliot would agree to him going out to look for Rosie, and it was commendable how concerned he was.

He was the only boy, he was Rosie's big brother and he had taken that role seriously. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her or pick on her and he would look after her if she was frightened. He wanted to go out and look for her, he would be good at that. He knew his sister, he knew she would be pulling and crying and causing a scene if someone was trying to drag her away or carry her somewhere.

Dickie could spot her if she was on the streets and he could watch the passing cars and look out for any driver that looked familiar or anyone driving with kids in the back. He could do something useful.

But he was thirteen and Elliot wouldn't have him going out alone, he wouldn't risk losing two of his kids today. One going missing was enough.

He would let Dickie help Olivia, he would let him talk to her and try and look at any photos from the security tapes to see if the kids thought someone looked familiar or too close. He would let them go down to the station if necessary rather than having them all go back to Kathy and just sit and wait in panic. But he wouldn't have them going out roaming the streets looking for their sister.

Deep breaths raged past Dickie's lips and this time, when Elliot wrapped an arm around his shoulders, he didn't pull away. He let his dad walk him back towards the food court and steered him over to where Kathleen was stood, looking desperate to help but not knowing exactly what she could do.

"Everything okay?" Olivia looked sceptical as she stood with her notepad in one hand and her other hand tucked into her pocket, but the grave look on Elliot's face gave her the answer she needed.

"Rosie's shoe was found outside the East exit. I need Munch and Fin helping patrol out looking for her. Can you stay with them if we go look at the security tapes? Rosie isn't on her own, someone's definitely got her."

"Sure."

With a quiet "Come on baby," Elliot took (Y/n)'s hand in his and moved towards one of the security guards.

All the kids heard his deep, guttural voice telling them to stay with Olivia and they watched as he and (Y/n) shakily followed the security guard towards one of the locked doors that was clearly for employees only.

For a minute, maybe two, (Y/n) closed her eyes and meshed her cheek into Elliot's bicep. She tried to calm down her raging thoughts and soak up some of Elliot's calm manner. She didn't know how he managed to do this day in and day out, helping families while remaining so calm and collected. And she had no idea how he was holding himself together right now, knowing that it was their daughter that had disappeared. (Y/n) was losing her sanity already.

She didn't want to be stood in this security office. She wanted to go looking on the streets or wait down at the precinct. Staring at tapes showing just how she had failed and let someone take her daughter wasn't what (Y/n) wanted to do. She had failed. Rosie was gone. And now she was going to witness it on the tapes, as if she hadn't already gone through this earlier.

There were so many monitors to look at that (Y/n) couldn't keep in focus. She heard the man say that they had rewound the tapes to the time that Rosie went missing.

She watched Elliot lean forward, both hands clamping down on the desk causing his shoulders to spread out like wings and his back to arch over as he tried to look at every screen at the same time.

(Y/n) was afraid to look in fear of what she was going to find. Who would be walking away with her daughter? Why would they be taking her away?

Had they just taken her hand and walked her out of here? Had they picked her up? Did they smother her cries or pretend she was a child having a tantrum? Did Rosie go willingly or did she put up a fight and cry out for her mum who was nowhere to be found?

All the questions sent (Y/n)'s body into spasms and trembles. And when the security guard pointed out the tape that showed their group going into the clothing store, (Y/n) turned away.

She didn't want to see herself letting Rosie run off. She didn't want to see her family turn their backs for one second and have Rosie snatched away from them.

They were going to go through each security camera in the area, one by one, tracking Rosie's movements. No one had seen her leave the shop, but she must have left with someone. Security would have noticed a three year old walking out the shop on her own and people would have seen her if she had been walking around the shopping centre all alone. Someone must have taken her in the shop and guided her out.

"She must be coming out with someone around now…" Elliot trailed off as he looked between two screens showing the outside of the shop. Rosie had to be leaving the shop because by all accounts, his family hadn't been in that shop long before Rosie went missing. And when Kathleen alerted security, they stopped people going in and out of the shop.

"There."

Elliot's eyes managed to tear from the screen he was watching and look down at (Y/n) when she jolted forward. She was looking at a different screen. One of the ones on the right in the bottom corner. Her hands lunged out and patted the screen, drawing a circle with the pad of her finger around Rosie.

The security officer sat just to the side of Elliot was quick to pause the tape, and all eyes went to that screen.

There she was. Hidden in plain sight. Her hair, thin as the first layer of snow and straight as a ruler until it crimped at the very ends that touched her shoulders. Her hand gripped tightly by a young woman, not too much older than (Y/n) herself.

Rosie was leaning backwards like she was trying to pull away or wanted to turn around and run back to her family. Tears were streaked down her face and her lips were parted like she was in the middle or about to burst into a sob.

They were stood in front of the exit where Rosie's shoe had been found just outside.

That exit led out onto the street. It didn't lead into the multistory carpark that belonged to the shopping centre. Maybe they were walking on foot. That would slow them down; she couldn't take Rosie far on foot. She couldn't have gotten far in the hour that Rosie had been missing, if they didn't get straight into a car, that meant there was a better chance of getting her back.

"Play it slowly, frame by frame."

She dragged her out. The woman dragged Rosie out the door like she was a child having a tantrum who she was taking back home.

No one stopped her.

How could they? If (Y/n) had been passing by, she wouldn't have the courage or the nerve to stop another woman and her child. It wasn't normal to stop women when their children were having a tantrum. Even if Rosie had been screaming that she wanted her mummy or her sister or even her brother. People passing by would presume the woman was Rosie's guardian, her aunt or her babysitter or someone familiar rather than a stranger dragging her away.

"Where's the nearest camera after that one?"

The guard pointed at the same screen but switched the video feed to the camera posted outside the exit.

The woman swooped down, hoisted Rosie up onto her hip, and walked down the street as if nothing was wrong.

Turning to look behind him, Elliot flagged one of the police officers over. "I need you to canvas any shops or traffic cameras from that street at around half past two. Follow their movements and find out which way they went."

There would be security cameras on shops or street cameras nearby. They might pick up this woman and Rosie and see where she was headed and catch whether she continued to walk, if she got a taxi or into a car or if she went down the subway. They needed to know where she went and track her so they could put out amber alerts. If she got in a car they had to find the make and number plate and put out alerts for police to stop them.

This news seemed to calm Elliot down somewhat and make him feel hopeful, but (Y/n) wasn't so assured.

It didn't matter that it was a woman who had taken Rosie. There were thousands of derranged, twisted women in the world. That woman could have taken Rosie because she wanted a child, it could be innocent. She could have lost a child and wanted a replacement, or thought she was looking after Rosie or saving her from something.

Or she could have chosen Rosie because she wanted to hurt her. She could be doing anything to her by now. Plenty of women in this world could be cold and ruthless and murderers. That woman could be sadistic, she could get off on hurting people or find amusement in hurting children. She could be attacking Rosie right now with no one any the wiser or around to stop her.

(Y/n) wanted her baby back this very second.

"Baby- baby wait!" A growl tore from the back of Elliot's throat as he set of into a sprint when (Y/n) bolted.

She flung the door open and flew out the room with her bag bashing against her waist and her heart beating out of her chest. She wanted her daughter back. They were going to open the shopping centre again and let people leave now they knew for certain that Rosie wasn't in here. (Y/n) was going to leave the exact same way that woman had and try to find her. She didn't know how and she didn't care, she just wanted to find her.

Elliot's hands curled into fists at his sides and he darted out of the room and down the corridor to the left.

His heart jumped into his throat when he watched (Y/n)'s foot slip on the top step and he cringed, biting down on his tongue at the thought of her falling down. But she regained her balance and stumbled down the stairs two at a time, flinging herself around the corner to propel down the second flight and get down to the ground floor.

All the air got caught at the back of (Y/n)'s throat when she stumbled onto the ground floor and felt a hand curl around her upper arm. She tripped, sliding back on her heel until her shoulders crashed into a tense, hard chest and a familiar set of strong arms bound around her waist.

"Baby," Elliot rasped into her hair, his voice deep and guttural as he breathed harshly against the top of her head. "Take a breath. We don't know which way she went after that road, and that was nearly an hour ago."

When (Y/n) tried to break out of his arms, Elliot tightened them around her and pulled her back. He moulded his chest over her back and leaned forward, smothering his face against her neck. He tried hard not to start trembling as his stuttering breaths fanned against (Y/n)'s neck and he felt her start to tremble and shake in his arms.

(Y/n) tried for a few seconds to fling her arms out and break out of Elliot's arms, but it didn't take long before she gave in. A broken sob left her lips and her eyes snapped closed as she curled in on herself and pressed back into Elliot as her knees caved in.

She felt him hushing and whispering into her neck while he carefully went down on his knees and pulled (Y/n) along with him until he was sitting on the bottom step with (Y/n) in between his thighs.

Her hands suddenly clamped around his bicep and she cried, pressing herself into Elliot's chest as much as she could. Her face smothered in his blazer and she felt Elliot kissing the top of her head while his hand slowly glided up and down her arm.

"We're gonna find her."

(Y/n) began to shake her head as she held Elliot's arm tighter and tighter until she was cutting off the blood supply to his hand. She felt him start to rock them back and forth, but she continued to shake her head.

"No we won't. You f- you found that girl last month, killed after one day…" She couldn't finish her sentence, but she didn't need to. The implication was clear.

(Y/n) remembered Elliot getting a case last month where a little girl went missing and she was only five. Elliot and the team had searched for her all day, followed leads, went up and down the streets and all around the city. Only for her to be found near a lake.

That night when Elliot came home, (Y/n) saw that look in his eyes. That repulsion, that terror and heartbreak at seeing a dead child. She knew Elliot felt responsible for not finding her in time. And she remembered how he had gone and cuddled Rosie that same evening like he was making sure his own child was safe and that terror wouldn't happen to him.

(Y/n) didn't like their odds at getting their daughter back safe and sound or even alive. She hated herself for thinking like that, but she couldn't help it.

"That was different, okay? That- that girl was taken by someone she knew. We didn't know that woman with Rosie, we don't know why she's got her. But we'll find out and we'll get her back."

"I can't- I can't wait here," (Y/n) tilted her head back onto Elliot's shoulder and looked up at him with those big, pleading eyes that made his stomach flip and sent his heart reeling. He would do anything she asked when she looked at him like that and they both knew it. "Ell… she was crying."

"We're not waiting here. We're going back to the precinct and we can start looking for her."

Elliot attached his lips back to (Y/n)'s temple and closed his eyes. He wasn't going to sit here and wait, not when Rosie wasn't anywhere in this building. They would go back to the precinct and look through any tapes that Munch and Fin found from shops or security cameras nearby.

They would track down this woman's movements and pin point where their daughter was.

Then they would go and get her back.

[ferrstappen]

max, don't panic l Max Verstappen blurb

a/n: he'd absolutely stop his car bc 1) what's a couple of points for this man? he's going to gain them back while sleeping; 2) this man PROTECTS you cannot tell me otherwise.

also, pls if anyone knows how to turn this blog (sideblog) into the main? my main is full of Shawn Mendes fics and on a permanent hiatus so I'll take any advice pls. anyway... I tried my best bc for some reason driver!reader is not my fav trope? but anyway, hope you enjoy <3

genre: kinda dramatic? angst? idk. request is here.

warnings: car crash.

pairing: Max Verstappen x driver!reader.

max, don´t panic – max verstappen blurb

The private but not secret applied to you and your boyfriend perfectly. Even if you didn't walk around hand I hand in the paddock, you always arrived together, bright smiles, sometimes riding the same car or blinded SUV, even arriving on the same planes.

This wouldn't be exactly controversial, but giving the fact you both were Formula 1 drivers, Max for Red Bull and you for Ferrari, yeah, it was a big thing. Especially since you and another driver in Williams were the only girls, people's eyes were always on you, obviously laced with criticism, sexism and misogyny, and of course everyone was waiting and constantly asking about which driver was the most handsome, if something had happened between you or any of the male drivers.

It wasn't pretty.

So Charles Leclerc had to miss a triple header due to an injury which costed him a surgery, you were briefly promoted to the Scuderia from Haas. The only thing you or anyone in the garage heard during the last few days was why you, why not Ferrari's own reserve driver? why not a driver with more experience? of course the lacing question was, why not a male driver?

You didn't need the press and public to keep speculating as your last Sunday driving for Ferrari arrived, even if sports sites stated the only reason you were chosen was because of your "especial friendship" with Max Verstappen, because it didn't make any sense otherwise. Of course Max rolled his eyes every time he heard something about it, forcing to bit his tongue to tell someone to fuck off, the fact you had been dating for now nine months had absolutely nothing of your job and performance.

It wouldn't help your case very much, having to calm him down on your shared hotel room. Well, it wasn't exactly shared, you just left you room vacant and made it to Max's to spend the night, sleeping in his warm embrace and messy kisses, trying to not exhaust your bodies in order to not be overly tired during race day.

Now, Sunday. Oh boy.

Before pulling your helmet, you found Max's eyes across the garage, doing a small sign with your fingers which Max matched, a secret language reserved for the both of you, expressing your love and preoccupation in front of everyone who was oblivious to the love language displayed in plain sight.

Then the race started and it was ordinary; good weather, good pace. But during lap twenty something happened.

You didn't really register when an Aston Martin car made contact with your rear wing, making you lose control and also getting hit by a Mercedes on the left side, which sent you flying through the gravel.

Fuck.

Your eyes closed as you felt the car spinning, waiting to make contact with the wall, trying to relax your body and mind, knowing injuries would be even more serious after the impact if her body was limp enough. Then it happened, you stopped rolling, the sound of gravel and tires stopped; radio wasn't working, though it wouldn't really work since you couldn't find your voice.

Max was on other sector, Gianpiero telling him to expect a red flag. At the same time, his eyes fixed on the screen and noticed the unmistakable red car flying and crashing.

Max was a man prepared for anything on the race track. Seriously, you could throw anything at him and Max would remain calm and collected, his body and mind not having to even think before making a move.

But this... this he wasn't prepared for.

"Which Ferrari was that?" Max asked through the radio, voice masking a slight panic.

"I don't have that information, yet. I'll let you know, now focus on slowing down, please, red flag red flag,"

"Is the driver okay?" Max completely ignored the other instructions given to him.

"No word, Max. Please," GP was cut off.

"Please tell me who's Ferrari is it!"

"Sainz was on the pit, it's (Y/N)'s Ferrari. Max, you can't speed up,"

Max ignored him. Of course, he knew better than to get in the way of the safety car and medical cars rushing, also noticing a green figure trying to get closer to the car, also noting a Mercedes and Aston with damages.

"Max, come to the pit, please," GP had many many experiences dealing with Max, but this was new. "Max, you are not going to help, you will only obstruct and put the car and yourself in danger,"

Max was covered in chills, watching the wrecked Ferrari, trapped against the wall, no movement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is completely unheard of. This is by far the worst accident during this season, but Red bull's Max Verstappen drove his car towards the crash, ignoring the red flag and his engineer. We don't now what's going on, how is the driver, as you can see it's a mess," That's what the audience was hearing and watching.

Ignoring everything, Max prompted himself up, leaving the car and reaching the medical car, trying to get someone to connect him to the Ferrari radio, knowing her radio was probably dead.

Time stopped, and then he saw you being carried, barely conscious but giving a thumbs up, and he felt like he could collapse and cry and laugh, all at the same time.

"I'm riding with her," Max stepped inside the ambulance, knowing pictures were being captured and broadcasted of him kissing your temple and holding your hand.

[bishopmyrielfundraiser]

even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise--

--as Victor Hugo didn't actually say.

The Winter 2025 Bishop Myriel Fundraiser is now open. This year will be dedicated to immigrants, many of whom are languishing in private prisons whose stock just went way, way up.

Our goal this year is at least 25 auction items and over $1000 in funds raised. If you've never participated before, this is your year. DM if you would like to participate but need advice!

Get your fic, art, books, crafts, costumes, and other offers ready. You can submit them according to the rules under the cut, and bidding on each item will start as soon as it is posted. Bidding in REPLIES, NOT REBLOGS, will continue through the end of December 21st, the darkest night of the year.

The recommended places to donate this year are: 1) RAICES Texas, an immigration-focused group which freed more than 2,000 people from immigration detention over the years. They fought to reunify families when children were ripped from their parents' arms during the first Trump administration, and have now pivoted to using funds to provide legal support for the detained, while continuing to pay bonds for those clients.

2) Annunciation House, a shelter serving immigrants. Run by Catholics in Texas who open their doors to the stranger without asking to see their papers, this year they faced down a vicious attempt by the Texas government to shut them down as a "stash house." The attorney general claimed in court that they followed "a more Bohemian set of ‘seven commandments,’ including commandments to ‘visit’ people when ‘incarcerated’ and ‘care (for them) when they’re sick.'” What could be more in the spirit of this fundraiser's namesake, Bishop Myriel? If you are not in the US and/or find it difficult to donate via those pages and/or want to support a particular organization doing good work to assist immigrants that's not listed above, please feel free to select another organization. From groups funding rescue ships in the Mediterranean to those supporting refugees stuck in camps around the world, there is a lot of good work to be done.

Rules for submitting your offers and bidding on them under the cut

Rules

1. Offering

SUBMIT your offering post to this blog! Include a link to this rules post in your own post, and also a minimum starting offer for your item, which can be a fic, art, or a physical item--be creative! Your offer does NOT have to be connected to the Les Misérables fandom, although such items are always welcome! Any terms and conditions of your offer should also be included in the post, eg what fandoms you are wiling to write for, any hard no’s on content, etc. Offer posts can keep coming in through the SUBMIT button until the auction closes.

2. Bidding

Bidding on each item opens as it is posted. Only bid on items tagged #Winter25. There will also be a masterpost to help distinguish this year's items from last years. Bid in REPLIES NOT REBLOGS (this is important because replies enable me to figure out who bid when and avoid conflicts) until 11:59PM Eastern Time December 21st, 2024. The highest bidder at that time will be the winner. Bidding can start as each item is posted.

3. Claiming or delivering your item

Please do not donate your bid until I have contacted you to inform you that you won the item!

If you have won an item, I will contact you directly via DM and ask you to provide a receipt or other verification for a donation to an immigration organization in the amount bid. This DM may come from either @bishopmyrielfundraiser or my main blog @lifeisyetfair. After you have made your donation, send such the receipt or verification bishopmyrielfundraiser@gmail.com or in a screenshot on Tumblr. Make sure the proof contains the amount you donated!

AFTER I have verified your donation, I will contact the offerer to let them know they can deliver the item. If you do not respond at all to my attempts to contact you within one week, I will move on to the next highest bidder. So check your DMs.

4. Sending the item you offered

All items should be delivered by March 31st, 2025 at the absolute latest, unless you have made other arrangements, eg the custom item/fic takes longer than that to create or write and you communicate about this. Earlier is even better, but remember that the most important thing is to keep the winner informed and make sure everyone has a good time.

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

taedros taedros

part two: taedros twodros ☆ part three: taedros tresdros**NEW wc: 2k reader: femme afab warnings: MINORS DNI EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ -- porn with plot, oral f!receiving, swearing, calling tae a virgin loser as a joke, mentioning the weeknd LMAO summary: loserbestfriend!taerae makes you watch the idol on hbo max with him for movie night, but a certain convertible scene sparks your "curiosity" more than the others... and taerae proves he might not be such a loser after all. :0 omg who am i?? i even wrote in all lower case letters in the fic to throw you off... i know you'll know right away though but that's not the point lmao!! i just didn't think i should be this horny for taerae on main so. here's the dedicated zb1 smut blog no one was asking for (except me. i was asking for it so let me live.) thank you to taerae for posting these pics next to each other and ruining my life. also the idol sucks and sam levinson and the weeknd are horrific for creating it. i only know some scenes from it because i watch comedy commentary videos about it. jennie is beautiful tho love her. ALSO i thought of this title and i cried laughing. mwahaha okay thanks for reading byeeeee

“this is the worst show I’ve ever seen in my life,” you say with a laugh, throwing a piece of popcorn in your mouth. “i can’t believe we’ve made it through two episodes already.”

🚨 SMUT BELOW CUT -- MINORS DNI -- 18+ 🚨

taerae sighs, “i think i’m gonna need to bleach my eyes.”

“throw some in my ears while you’re at it,” you joke, letting a leg drape over your best friend’s. you’re crammed together in the bottom bunk of his dorm room bed, watching the idol on the tv that’s hung at the foot of it. “i will never, ever be able to unhear the weeknd whispering, ‘stretch that tiny little pussy for me’. and every single day i will beg the lord for mercy.”

“are we sure we wanna watch the third episode?” taerae asks, shifting a bit next to you. “this show is so graphic.”

“of course the virgin wants to chicken out,” you tease, smacking his stomach with a pillow. he grabs it from you and leaves it there. “you’re the one who wanted to watch it! now you wanna quit two episodes in? not gonna happen. we can make it through this.”

if you hadn’t pressed play at that exact moment, you would’ve heard taerae gulp beside you. 

the intro of the show plays, assaulting your eyes with an up-close and personal view of jocelyn’s bare chest. what else is new? you yawn, hoping the third episode’s graphic scenes (at the very least) won’t be repetitive. bitch has put on a blindfold to end both episodes so far...

sitting with your back leaning against the wall, you try to steal a glance at taerae. his upper back is propped up on his pillow as he lies perpendicular to you, facing the tv screen. you watch his eyes, catching the subtle dilation of his pupils. it could be the light from the television in the otherwise dark room shifting their size, but you find yourself curious nonetheless.

“do you think she’s pretty?” you ask suddenly.

taerae coughs. “me? do i think the actress is pretty?”

you nod, eyes returning to the screen in hopes that the lack of eye contact will make taerae feel comfortable enough to give you an answer.

“she’s pretty, yeah,” he says after a moment. 

“like, you’re attracted to her?” you clarify, throwing another piece of popcorn into your mouth.

“uh,” he hesitates and you feel his legs tense up under yours. “i guess. i mean she’s not really my type, but--.”

“but you like her tits.”

“exactly,” taerae agrees too quickly. “wait, no--.”

“no need to walk it back,” you cut him off with a snort. “boobs are hot. end of story.”

taerae sits up a bit more, seemingly trying to relax after your probing. you didn’t talk to taerae about sex or girls all that much, but you’d be lying if you said the show hadn’t suddenly made you a bit curious. what experience did your lovable loser of a best friend have-- if any at all?

the interrogatory questions you’re suddenly wanting to ask are thrown from your brain, however, as the show now cuts to a shot of the weeknd (you and taerae refuse to call him tedros tedros) and jocelyn in the back of a convertible-- their poor assistant driving these two insufferable cretins down the freeway.

nothing’s out of the ordinary until jocelyn crawls from her seat and lifts one leg to straddle the weeknd. she’s in a slinky tangerine bodysuit and little black shorts and the weeknd’s hands easily envelope her waist. you roll your eyes, already having grown so sick of these two. 

but when jocelyn is suddenly pushed to the edge of the seat, her back against the car door and her head resting on the frame-- your attention is piqued. the weeknd wraps his hands around her thighs, prying them apart so he can pull her shorts to the side just enough to fit his tongue. the actress’s head lolls back over the car door frame; her blonde hair dangling over the side and flowing in the wind. her face is screwed up in absolute bliss and the sounds coming out of her confirm her state.

would she really be screaming like that just from his tongue?

“um,” you hear taerae say and you look over at him curiously. “if-- if he’s good with it, then yeah. she would be, i guess.”

you frown. what was he talking about? if he’s good with what? ... oh fuck, you think as you realize that you’d accidentally said your previous thought out loud. and now poor taerae is stumbling to give you an answer.

what did he say? if he’s good with it then she would be.

“huh,” you mumble, your brow furrowing as you ponder his answer.

you turn back to the tv, but taerae clears his throat. “what?”

“what? what do you mean, what?”

“why did you say ‘huh’ like that?” he asks, the pillow on his stomach rustling as he shifts slightly. “do you not agree or something?”

“oh, uh,” you stutter as you feel your cheeks start to heat, not sure what to say. “um, i guess i wouldn’t know.”

the silence from taerae is deafening as your eyes stay locked on the tv. you’re not sure why you said that. you could’ve just lied. you should’ve just lied.

“are you a virgin?” taerae asks softly. the accusation whips your head around to stare at him angrily and his eyes widen cautiously.

“obviously not,” you answer in a huff. “i just... i’ve never...”

you look down at your lap, picking at the skin on your fingers. you should stop while you can. you don’t need to tell the truth. why are you even considering telling him this?

“no one’s ever gone down on me or anything.”

“oh,” taerae manages to respond after a long moment, but you can’t even look at him.

“yeah.”

another moment of silence. “you shouldn’t be, like, embarrassed by that. that’s... that’s entirely their fault for not prioritizing you, you know?”

your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, the aforementioned embarrassment flushing your skin as you nod. the show is still playing, but you can only hear garbled sounds. why did you tell him that!? now taerae has to awkwardly comfort you when you could’ve just shut your mouth in the first place. you didn’t really talk about these kinds of things with taerae. your best friend was there for movie nights, chinese food binges, laughing until you cry, and most importantly taking the absolute piss out of... 

and here you were making him uncomfortable by randomly talking about your oral virginity.

“would you want me to do it?”

taerae’s voice is so quiet that you’re positive for a moment that you hallucinated it. you look over at your best friend tentatively to find his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping his pillow to his stomach. 

“what?”

taerae blinks nervously. “if you wanted to, you know, try it... i could--.”

“WHAT!?” you shout; hands grabbing the pillow on taerae’s stomach and throwing it across the room. “are you-- are you fucking joking!? you think i’m desperate enough to ask my best friend to eat me out?”

“no, no, no,” taerae respond quickly, hands flying up in defense. “not at all!”

“then what?” you ask, jaw setting in anger as you wait for a good enough answer to keep you from punching him in the balls.

taerae’s lips form the slightest pout. “you seemed really curious about it. i just... i just thought i’d offer.”

you bite your lip as you think. “what do you even know about that kind of thing? I thought you were a virgin loser.”

“ouch,” taerae says but quickly shrugs it off. “i guess you’re only right about half of that statement.”

you frown. even though you’d never talked about it before, was taerae secretly experienced? more experienced than you?

“you don’t have to say yes though,” he adds quickly. “i’m sorry; i probably shouldn’t have said any--.”

“okay,” you cut him off softly.

taerae’s eyes widen in surprise. “okay?”

you nod slowly. “i don’t believe you that you’re not a virgin loser, but if you’re offering...”

taerae sits up, leaning on his hands as a little smirk lights up his face. “i’ll eat you out and then you can eat those words. how does that sound?”

the way your heat flutters at his words catches you off guard. so does the way he swiftly flips you onto your back as you take the position he was just in.

“whoah,” you exhale, your best friend absolutely knocking the wind out of you as he positions himself between your thighs. he takes the hem of your shorts in his fingers, eyebrows raising at you expectantly. you lift up your hips enough for him to shimmy them off, discarding them on the floor without taking his eyes off your still-clothed center.

you glance at your underwear, panic immediately hitting you when you realize you wore the only clean pair that you had left...

a black, lace thong.

they were the only pair left, because you honestly hadn’t had a reason to wear them in a little while.

“fuck,” taerae curses, hands wrapped around the outsides of your thighs. “were you going somewhere after this or...?”

“if you don’t shut your mouth, i’ll be going somewhere before this,” you threaten, but the words come out shakier than you would’ve liked as taerae begins to plant open-mouthed kisses up your thighs. “... ‘s laundry day tomorrow.”

“mm, I see,” he replies, shifting his weight to one hand so he can bring his right hand to your heat. your heart rate rises as he moves towards where you’re quickly growing to need his attention most. two fingers press at your clothed-core gently and the sound of the tv in the background does nothing to dampen the moan that escapes you from just the small amount of pressure.

“laundry day’s coming just in time i think,” taerae says, a smirk highlighting his cavernous dimples in a light you’ve never seen before. “from the way you’re soaking through these.”

“shut up,” you groan, bringing your hands up to cover your face. taerae hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, tugging at them playfully to get your attention. peeking out through your fingers, you glare at him.

“do you want to stop?” he asks, removing his hands quickly. “we can stop if you want to or need to or anything.”

you reach down and grab both of his hands in yours, reattaching them to your underwear. “please keep going.”

he blinks at you for a moment before nodding, pulling your thong down your legs as you lift your hips up for him. taerae lies down fully in between your thighs now, guitar-string calloused hands wrapping around your thighs and guiding them to rest on his shoulders. 

“so pretty,” he whispers. eyes focusing on your throbbing cunt, taerae’s grip on your legs gets a little tighter-- a little more desperate. “really.”

“thanks,” you respond shyly, watching as a bit of steam begins to coat the rim of taerae’s glasses. you can’t help but smile as you reach for them, carefully removing the frames and placing them on the stand next to his bed. 

“thanks,” he echoes. 

“i’m still not convinced that you aren’t a-- oh fuck...” just as you’re about to tease your loser of a best friend again, his tongue finds your core and licks a long stripe up from your opening to your clit. taerae exhales a laugh against your pussy, tongue circling your clit as his hands now take hold of your hips.

“wait, what the fuck?” you whine breathlessly as he works you over with his mouth. “tae, i thought... oh my god.”

“taste so good, baby,” taerae moans like he’s enjoying it just as much as you are. he slips a finger in your entrance carefully, stretching you until he deems you ready for a second. “Think this pussy might be perfect.”

his eyes are closed; eating at you like you’re his favorite meal. it’s hot. way hotter than the scene from the show. way hotter than anything on that stupid show-- in which another sex scene is playing on the screen behind taerae. you suddenly feel so much pity for jocelyn; one of the hardest characters in history to pity. but the fact that there’s no way tedros fucking tedros is eating her out as good as taerae’s eating you out right now is tugging at your heart strings.

“tae,” you whimper, feeling the knot in the pit of your stomach begin to tighten. your hand tangling up in his hair at the nape of his neck causes him to moan into you and the vibration only makes you tug harder. “please, please wanna cum.”

“already? you sure?” he says, disappointment coating his voice. “could eat this pussy all night.”

“holy shit,” you exhale. you didn’t even know taerae was capable of talking like this. the only time he ever said pussy around you was if he was calling you one. now as he looks up at you from between your thighs, his pretty dimpled-smile covered in your juices as he continues to fuck you with his fingers and press his thumb against your clit...

you’re nodding frantically now. “please, please tae. make me cum.”

“fuck, baby, okay. whatever you want,” he agrees quickly, the lust in his eyes at your demand reaching a whole new level. he removes his thumb from your clit and the sudden lack of contact causes you to whine pathetically. “sshhh, don’t worry baby. i’ve got something even better, i promise.”

just as some tears from frustration are welling up in your eyes, taerae’s lips close around your clit and he begins to suck. “oh my GOD,” is all you can manage as your orgasm starts to wash over you. “taerae. oh my god, tae... c-cumming.”

you’re grinding your pussy against his tongue now to maximize the friction and the way he lifts your hips a bit to bring you even closer tells you that he’s loving every second of this. your moans match the ones that taerae is mewing into your core. he places your hips back down onto the mattress, holding them steady as you start to squirm a bit from the overstimulation. he continues to lap at you gently as your hand falls from his hair to his shoulder, causing him to look up at you.

your cheeks are red now from both your climax and the new wave of embarrassment that’s creeping up on you. you’re not sure what to say, but luckily taerae’s got you covered.

he inserts two fingers inside of you again and then pulls them out-- covered in your juices. without hesitating, he sticks them in his mouth and sucks them clean. “you’ve tasted yourself, right? probably a lot. fuck, i’m so jealous.”

your jaw drops a bit, now doubly unable to speak at the filth pouring out of your best friend’s mouth..

taerae frowns at you. “what? you want to make this awkward now?”

you shake your head. 

“was it good?” he asks, head tilting to the side as he squints slightly. you reach over to his nightstand and grab his glasses, handing them back to him. he puts them on; raising his hand to ruffle his hair.

“you know it was good,” you mumble annoyedly.

he grins. “yeah. i do.”

“UGH,” you groan, hiding behind your hands again. “i hate you.”

“please, pleeeease tae,” he mocks, climbing up closer to your face to really rub it in. “make me cum.”

“SHUT UP!” you shout, hitting his chest with your fists in annoyance. “do not get cocky about this.”

taerae shrugs, biting his lip to keep from smirking. “i guess you never wanna do this again then?”

you sigh defeatedly before replying softly, “i didn’t say that.”

“good,” he says with a smile-- shifting to the edge of the bed and standing up. “i’m gonna get you some water and a towel, okay? don’t move a muscle.”

you don’t. taerae had made sure of that with the orgasm he’d just pulled out of you. as the door to his dorm room closes behind him, you’re left with only your thoughts and the sound of that shitty tv show playing in the background. you reach for the remote weakly, pressing pause on a bizarre scene of the weeknd jerking it over a clothing rack (?).

all you can think about, though, is taerae lapping at your pussy like a starved man. what the fuck just happened? did you really just let your best friend eat you out?

and how the fuck had he managed to leave you wanting more?

[writingwithciara]

𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 ~𝓁.𝒽𝓊𝑔𝒽𝑒𝓈~

summary: luke fucks up & forgets...again

word count: 955

pairing: luke hughes x reader

notes: this was kinda requested on my main blog but i put all my writing on this blog. whoever sent in the request, thank you ❤ i hope this was okay

can you write how you'd think luke would react to reader whike in a heated argument, like what would he do? woukd he argue back or just let you finish

masterlist

it was nearly 2 in the morning before y/n saw luke.

the devils had been out all night celebrating their huge stanley cup win and y/n decided she would celebrate with her best friend after.

she wasn't counting on him being out all night.

she had fallen asleep on the couch and was woken up when he came stumbling in the door. he wasn't even trying to be quiet.

and the worst part, he wasn't alone.

he had a tall blonde hanging off his arm and she was giggling at whatever he said in the hall outside.

luke didn't even acknowledge y/n as he and the mystery blonde made their way down the hall and into his room.

y/n grabbed her phone and texted jack.

bold=reader, italics=jack

hey are you awake?

yeah what's up?

can i come stay at your place for the night? luke just got home and he brought a girl don't feel like listening to them all night :(

yeah of course door's unlocked so just come in

y/n grabbed her phone & keys, making sure to be as quiet as possible as she closed the door and headed upstairs to jack's apartment. she walked in and went right to the couch, falling asleep almost instantly.

the next morning, luke woke up and eyed the blonde in his bed. her identity escaped his mind as he searched for some clothes to put on. his first thought was to apologize to y/n so he went searching for his roommate.

usually he would find her in the kitchen, cooking up something delicious for breakfast. it was what she always did the morning after he won a game.

but when she wasn't in the kitchen, he began to panic. he went to her room but found her bed was untouched from the night before.

where could she have gone? he thought. his mind began racing and his heart was beating faster.

but his thoughts were interrupted when the blonde from the previous night appeared in the hallway. she looked liked she was trying to sneak out.

"oh. didn't think i would run into you. thought i could make a quick getaway." she laughed awkwardly. "last night was...different. i never go home with a guy i just met."

"yeah. me either. i hardly ever bring anyone home." he looked at her. "last night was a mistake, right?"

"yeah. i'm so glad you brought it up. i didn't want to hurt your feelings."

"same." he smiled. "it was nice meeting you, i guess."

"yeah. you too, luke." she waved and as she was about to leave, y/n walked in.

"don't worry about me. just cam to get some clothes." y/n put her hands up and politely pushed passed the girl in the doorway. the blonde nodded at luke before taking off down the hallway.

luke followed y/n into her room and watched as she dug through her drawers.

"what are you doing?"

"i'm staying with jack tonight so you can have some alone time with whoever you decide to bring home tonight."

"did you stay at jack's last night?"

"yeah. didn't feel like being forced to listen to you and some random girl all night." y/n avoided eye contact as she moved passed luke. he spun around to face the direction she was heading.

"i'm really sorry about that. it's just the boys and i were at the bar and it just happened..."

"yeah, yeah. i know the story at this point, luke." she sighed and looked up at him. "is that all you're sorry about?"

"what else would i have to be sorry about?"

"unbelievable." y/n rolled her eyes and turned back towards the front door.

"okay, you should quit with the attitude. if there's something i need to be sorry for, then i apologize for it. whatever it is."

"the fact that you have no idea what you need to apologize for is insane."

"maybe you should just tell me then, y/n!" luke raised his voice. it was lined with frustration and y/n was having none of it.

"you know what, luke? fuck you. i'm tired of being put on the back burner all the time. you always forget about our plans and it's ridiculous. wanna know what makes it even more ridiculous?"

"no but i'm sure you're going to tell me anyway." luke crossed his arms and stared her down. she was not about to give in.

"it's even worse because you're at the front of my mind all the time. 24 fucking seven, luke! we make plans and i remember every bit of it, down to the last detail. you have no idea what it's like to be the last thought in the mind of someone who always comes first for you!"

the way she looked like she was bout to cry as she grabbed her bag and headed for the door made luke snap back to reality.

"oh shit. i was supposed to come home and celebrate with you last night, wasn't it?"

"ding, ding, ding! ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner." y/n remarked sarcastically.

"i am so so sorry, y/n." he looked at her and when she grabbed the doorknob, he knew that was it. he had forgotten about their plans many times before & she wasn't going to let him get away with it anymore. but he understood.

"i don't care how sorry you are for last night, luke. it's not the first time you forgot about me, but it will be the last. goodbye, luke."

with her bag hanging off her shoulder, she made her way out of the apartment and out of the building.

and as far as luke was concerned, out of his life for good.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @fearfam69691

[the-defender-of-tomorrow]

This post is about the user @/kayden-kay

All of their Arcane-based roleplay blogs:

This is not a thing I ever wanted to make. Please don’t send any harassment towards Kay, but consider blocking them. 

I just don't want to give them the benefit of the doubt anymore. People have tried to explain to them some of the things they have done wrong before and end up just getting blocked.

Rest if the info under the cut :

If possible all links to posts will be provided.

It originally started with a group of roleplayers realizing that they had all been having issues regarding roleplay with Kay. Someone compiled these concerns and sent Kay a private

message about them. I had mentioned feeling uncomfortable with some remarks Kay made in-characters, which was included broadly in the message. 

This document contains the message written out and then sent to Kay: Doc

The concerned person was immediately blocked with no response. 

Screenshot as proof of message being sent with no reply:

Now the stuff regarding their general lack of regard for the safety of minors. I would like to note I am 16. I make it very clear I am 16 on all my blogs, either putting it in my description or the pinned post. I sometimes reply to asks with suggestive jokes, but this does not change the fact that I am a minor.

Screenshot of the comment Kay made that made me uncomfortable:

Link to the original post. I can’t get a link to their post because they have me blocked: Post

At the time I didn't realise I didn’t process this wasn’t a comment I found uncomfortable, but looking back at it knowing this person is 20 it feels kind of gross. I decided to try and avoid interacting with them, blocking them for my own comfort until they pinged me in a post regarding one of my blogs. I learned about said post through someone else who had seen it.

Screenshot for said post :

I then messaged them regarding how I'm not comfortable with them making any sort of contact with my blogs. I understand the way I ended up talking to this person was not fair and I should have tried to be a little more civil about my approach.

Here is that entire conversion. They block me at the end of it.

I do not think using your age or disabilities as an excuse for your actions is right. I have an understanding that these things can make things harder as I have dyslexia myself (A mutual of mine edited this post for me and fixed any typos and grammar). I have a hard time reading things and having to have aides to help it. But that doesn't excuse not taking into consideration how old the people that you are interacting with are.

For context this is where my age is on all of my accounts.

After this they made a couple of posts on their main account.

Link to post

Link to post

Kay, I doubt you are never gonna read this. You block people a lot of the time when they are trying to tell you they are uncomfortable. But even if you were 18 or such you should know better than to make suggestive comments to people you don’t know the age of or minors. You especially should not excuse your actions using your age or disabilities rather than apologizing and trying to do better. Whether or not you realize it, you are 20. You are an adult, you should know you have a responsibility to make sure you aren’t exposing minors to NSFW content. Check people’s ages, and tag your blogs and posts as NSFW if they include suggestive or 18+ content. 

On another note:

Link to post

If your blog is NSFW, do not interact with minors using that blog. The fact you either ignore or do not understand shows you should not be in spaces with minors.

That is all, again please do not send harassment to this person in any regard. If you feel uncomfortable with them, ignore or block their accounts. This is just to show their disregard of minor safety online and how they ignore people when they try to mention the things they have done wrong.

thanks to @prince-o-rot for helping me edit this