#anons r so beautiful when they speak facts

[zephfair]

Prompt: (if you are open to such)

Pynch on a hike!

A: "at least the view was worth it, it's so beautiful"

R: "not as beautiful as you are" CHEESY RONAN IT IS

HEY there, beautiful Anon! Guess who's showing up 5 months late with your ficlet??? That's right! Me! 🤦‍♀️

I'm so very sorry it took me 5 months to post this! It's cheesy and fluffy and has absolutely 0 plot ... so basically it's exactly like all the rest of my writing.

But I really hope you enjoy this short little gift! Thank you SO MUCH for leaving me a prompt, and again, I apologize for taking so long to finish it!

After Ronan insisted on taking a rest break for the fifth time in two hours, Adam had enough and bitched back.

“Lynch, I know for a fact that you can walk longer than 20 minutes at a time, even if it is uphill,” he said. “Now get your ass in gear.”

Ronan huffed, in annoyance, not from being out of shape. “I just don’t see why we have to go on a hike while you’re home on spring break. We could be doing something so much more fun at home.”

“What could be better than exploring the woods and mountains on a sunny spring day? And don’t you dare say fucking.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Ronan sulked. “Not in the mood now, anyway.”

Adam hefted his backpack up a little snugger. “That’s a lie, Lynch. You’re always in the mood.”

“You’re right,” Ronan smirked at him. “Speaking of…”

“No way. We are finishing this hike.”

Ronan tilted his head back and let loose a string of cursing that always impressed Adam in the strangest way. Once he got it out of his system, Adam tried his best to loom over the rock where Ronan sat.

“Feel better now? Need another drink? Boots feeling all right?” he asked in a saccharine voice.

Ronan narrowed his eyes as he looked up. “These boots weren’t made for walking up a mountain all day. And yeah, I need a drink. You got anything stronger than Gatorade?”

“No. Now get your ass up and get walking.”

Ronan’s groan was at least five seconds long and loud enough to make some birds fly away from a nearby tree.

“Your objection has been noted. Move.”

Ronan’s grumbling followed him doggedly. “Don’t you need to stop and check your phone? It’s practically glued to your face these days,” he mocked at one point. “Won’t your friends be scared if they can’t reach you at any moment? If you don’t text back ASAP? Won’t your books be lonely if you don’t have your face shoved in them all damn day?”

It wasn’t quite enough to ruin Adam’s good mood. He’d thought bringing Ronan on a day-long hike would be fun, and it had started well, with a beautiful sunrise as they drove to the bottom of the hiking trail. Ronan had even cooperated with picking out snacks and drinks and agreed to carry a backpack, too.

But as the morning wore on, and the trail continued up into the woods, Ronan began to get bored. At first he tried talking to Adam, bitching and complaining, but Adam had ignored him to point out all the beauties of the forest in spring.

Then the frequent pee breaks and sitting spells began.

When Ronan plopped down on a fallen log and insisted on another break, Adam snapped.

“Why the hell are you being such a pain in the ass?”

“I hate hiking,” Ronan said sulkily, pawing through his backpack for another granola bar.

Adam ran a hand over his face and tried to calm down. “You’ve been hiking for miles all over the Blue Ridge with Gansey. And me. And Hennessy loves bitching about the time you introduced her to Lindenmere by making her hike there in her fancy outfit. We’ve explored all the land around the Barns multiple times. What is it about this hike that is turning you into such a giant whiny baby?”

“It wasn’t like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t,” Ronan gestured broadly around himself, “like this.”

Adam stared at him, arms crossed over his chest, and waited, but there was no further explanation offered. “So what’s so different.”

“It’s just, there was a goal in mind, before. This just feels pointless.”

Adam continued to stare at him, so Ronan tried to explain.

“With Gansey and you, it was fun, and we were hunting Glendower and all that shit. It was hiking for an adventure, to find the end of the puzzle. And Lindenmere is its own goal, so it’s not this,” he gestured at the woods again, “just walking around in circles or shit. We got to the end. It wasn’t pointless.”

“I thought,” Adam said softly, “the point was to spend the day together doing something we both enjoyed. Man, was I wrong.”

“Adam, no,” Ronan jumped up and grabbed his shoulders. “I didn’t mean it like that. I love spending time with you. You know that.”

Adam finally met his eyes and shrugged.

“I guess, I guess I just need to know where I’m going, or know that there’s something worth finding when I get there. Otherwise it’s just traipsing around the woods and getting blisters on my feet when we could be at home, in bed, finding a happy ending.”

Adam snorted despite himself. Ronan smiled a little and leaned his forehead against Adam’s.

“I guess it’s like the age-old question about whether life is about the journey or the destination. We have two very different philosophies,” Adam said.

“Don’t make this into some big psychological thing,” Ronan moaned. “I’m just tired and grumpy and my feet hurt.”

Now, that sounded more like his Ronan, and Adam knew how to motivate that.

“So, you’re saying I have to set you a goal, like a preschooler. Give you a gold star if you accomplish this task?”

“Or,” Ronan stroked down Adam’s arms and crept around his waist, “you can bribe me.”

“You seriously expect me to bribe you? What would it cost me to get you out of the house on a beautiful day that we can spend together?”

“I dunno. What’s it worth to you?” Ronan asked breathily in his ear.

“I think we’re working on different reward systems here.”

“There’s one thing you can offer.” The way Ronan tried to waggle his eyebrows in what he probably thought was seduction or playful didn’t work on Adam.

He said firmly, “No, Lynch, we’re not doing that here.”

“Why not?” Ronan was still talking heavily in his ear.

“Because that’s how you get tick bites on your dick. Do you want to get a tick attached to your dick? That’s how you get super Lyme disease.”

That pronouncement made Ronan step back and cup his hand protectively over his groin. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that I don’t want either of our dicks infested with ticks. Now let’s pick up the pace,” Adam glanced at his watch. “We do have somewhere to be.”

Ronan kept a low undertone of grumbling as he followed Adam up and along and down and up again.

“You know, you wouldn’t lose your breath if you shut the fuck up for a while and quit complaining,” Adam told him.

Ronan stomped along behind him in silence then.

But even Adam was feeling the strain in his legs when they got to the top of the hill that Adam was pretty sure was their destination from the sound of it.

The trail came out onto a clearing at the side of the mountain. The view out over the valley was beautiful, with a patchwork of farms and lawns and woods crisscrossed by the tiny ribbons of roads and the minuscule boxes of houses, barns and buildings.

Immediately above was a waterfall that roared from a stream coming down from the top of the mountain and swollen with melting snow pack. From where they stood, the waterfall looked like it was falling the entire way down the mountain, but was actually caught in a rocky pool below them that would let it funnel down in a creek to the valley below.

Looking out over the water into the valley was a little vertigo inducing, Adam thought, just for a minute.

He glanced up at the sky then checked behind for Ronan. “I think we got here in time. Wait until that cloud moves away from the sun.”

When it did, the sunlight hit the water and at the right angle, it created a huge rainbow arcing down the side of the mountain.

“Wow. That’s gay,” Ronan said.

“Excuse me?”

“You know what I mean. Is this what we walked all this fucking way for?”

Adam shrugged. “Yeah, but also because it’s a fun and healthy way to spend a day in nature.”

“I could’ve had more fun and more health spending it in bed.”

Adam gestured toward the idyllic picture of the valley far below them. “At least the view was worth it. It’s so beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you are,” Ronan said.

“Dammit, Lynch, that’s really cheesy.”

“I know. But it’s true.”

Adam side-eyed him. “You do realize that we now have to walk back down that entire mountain?”

Ronan shrugged and slung his arm around Adam’s shoulders, leaning on him heavily. “At least we’ll be together, right?”

“Oh sure. Now you’re suddenly fine with this whole hiking thing.”

“Nah, but I’m fine about spending an entire day with you. I guess it is nice, knowing that you won’t be distracted by homework or school shit or your phone. Or your little school friends.”

“I guess that’s true,” Adam said slowly, finally realizing the depth that Ronan was jealous of sharing him. He bumped his hip, hard enough to make Ronan take his own weight back. “Maybe we need more days, just the two of us together. No distractions.”

Ronan made a pfft sound that was probably disdain but Adam knew to read as agreement.

“Whatever,” Ronan said and turned his head to bite Adam’s cheek. “Now how about I pretend I’m a tick and I bite and suck you.”

“You’re such a romantic, Lynch,” Adam said, but he was already fighting with his belt as Ronan started to laugh at him. “But if I get a tick-borne illness…”

“I’ll take care of you. Promise,” Ronan said, his voice suddenly deepening.

Adam reached for him, holding his face in his hands, as he looked over the familiar, annoying, beloved face. When Ronan kissed him, it felt like a promise of something deeper and truer than an off-the-cuff joke; like many of his interactions with Ronan, pairing the obnoxious with the holy in one desirable package.

“Thanks for coming with me today,” Adam said as Ronan kissed his way down Adam’s neck.

“Thanks for spending it with me,” Ronan replied, his hands taking over on Adam’s belt. “Now shut up and enjoy the view.”

Adam did, very much.

[aleksanderscult]

Some Darklina songs?

Oh shit. That's a serious question and I need to live up to your expectations, anon.

Random, but do you spy on my drafts?? 'Cause I created a short Darkling playlist (solely composed by soundtracks though) two weeks ago. But I don't know when I'll release it for you, guys.😭😭 So this ask gave me a deja vú HAHAHA

I've actually already thought about this question so I had some songs in mind for quite some time now. But I also searched to find more.

(This list will also include soundtracks 'cause I find them just as important)

Part 2 here!

1) Shades of Cool - Lana Del Rey

I imagine this song from Alina's perspective for the Darkling. The chorus in particular and the bridge (there are lyrics in the bridge but they're purposefully barely audible) remind me of Alina and her opinion for the Darkling SO MUCH.

2) Big Eyes - Lana Del Rey

Again these lyrics are from Alina's perspective to the Darkling. When you hear them you'll know what I mean.😏

(ESPECIALLY THAT BRIDGE IS SO ALINA ABOUT THE DARKLING)

3) Terrence Loves You - Lana Del Rey

(I think you, people, have already guessed that I'm a HUGE Lana Del Rey fan😭)

This song speaks about loneliness. Your love is gone and you're left behind trying to fill the void. This beautiful song is Alina after Aleksander's death in R&R. The lyrics fit her grief.

Especially the lyric "But I lost myself when I lost you" hits too close to home, knowing how she lost her powers and basically herself after she lost him. And the lyric "Trying to transmit, can you hear me? Ground Control to Major Tom, can you hear me all night long?" makes me think of Alina trying to communicate with Aleksander from the other side🥲

Also the lyric "Isn't it strange how you're not here with me?" (*silently sobbing*)

This song is Alina mourning.

(A little fun fact, this is the song I put on my earphones after I finished R&R to cope with the Darkling's death. Needless to say I cried even more with this).

4) Cherry - Lana Del Rey

This song talks about a toxic love that is so catastrophic to the point that you fall to pieces both from the intense love and the burning toxicity. Instead of flourishing from this love, you're crumbling.

In other words, Darklina🙂😭

Whether it's from Alina's or Aleksander's perspective (or both), I leave it to YOU ❤️🤗

5) Once Upon A Dream - Lana Del Rey

(I swear not all the songs are going to be from Lana😭)

Guys, this song is Darklina.

The lyrics are Darklina.

The creepy, atmospheric vibe is Darklina.

The dark fairytale-like melody is Darklina.

It just screams THESE TWO!!

"But if I know you, I know what you'll do. You'll love me at once the way you did once upon a dream" - Once Upon A Dream.

"Something more. He'd known the name for it once. A hundred lifetimes ago." - Rule of Wolves.

6) Seven Devils - Florence + the Machine

Let's change the scenery and go to Dark!Alina.

'Cause this song gives me that vibe. Just close your eyes and pretend that Alina has taken the villainy road on Aleksander's side and together they ride to battles to bring peace to Ravka by doing it the hard way and then they rule together (sounds a better ending than the one Alina got at R&R like💀).

Anyway, this song is dark Darklina 😍

Thank me later.

7) Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Lorde

It doesn't only give me strong Darklina vibes but also strong Grishaverse trilogy vibes.

Also the line "There's a room where the light won't find you" is SO Darkling coded.

This song gives me vibes of their opposition and rivalry. Just imagine the second half playing while they're battling against each other 😩

8) War of Hearts - Ruelle

To be honest, I neither like nor listen to this song.

BUT! The lyrics are the personification of Darklina FRR😭

9) 13 Beaches - Lana Del Rey

I have so many things to say here.

First of all, it can be interpreted both by Alina's perspective and Aleksander's.

The spoken, opening lines ("I don't belong in the world...") remind me of these two. Because they both felt like outsiders. Like they didn't belong anywhere. Like no one could understand them.

Secondly, the lines "But I still get lonely..." and "It hurts to love you. But I still love you..." are them. I just can't explain it.🥲

10) Within You - David Bowie

The man. The myth. The legend. David Bowie.

The song was written for the movie "Labyrinth" which I have already recommended to my fellow Darklina friends. The relationship and dynamic between Jareth and Sarah is DARKLINA CODED AS FUCK.

And the lyrics of this song are also Darkling coded sooo....we have two in one!!

(The music might not remind you of Darklina but what can we do😔).

More songs in part 2! 🖤💛

[sungbeam]

i saw someone doing this of another fandom but i thought it would be fun! your moots as tbz members? 😊

OMG THANK U FOR THIS ANON !!! i will try my best hehe >;3 (gonna try and do the moots i interact w most frequently :') i'm always super indecisive when it comes to these things sjfnr)

@justalildumpling — kim sunwoo or lee hyunjae; she and sunwoo r just two delulus in love 😔🤘🏻 and for some reason, she gives hyunjae sometimes, but maybe it's cuz they oftentimes don't realize their worth and how incredible they r 😔

@ethereal-engene — jacob bae (aheh); dude like,, she's such a ray of sunshine but very low-key in her humor and likes to call me out on my clownery so often 🤡 but she's also just one of the nicest people you'll ever meet

@jaehunnyy — lee juyeon; an absolute baby, an absolute gem, incredible, talented, beautiful, i love juy-chip— (but in all seriousness, chip def bodies juyo a lot, esp on the wholesome and talent aspect!! but they're also both incredible dancers hehe)

@winterchimez — lee sangyeon; skcnkdOKAY IM NOT TRYING TO CHEAT OKAY ally just takes care of me a lot and i feel like she's always giving that very warm sangyeon vibe :')) and maybe it's also the fact that now that i've gotten to know her, she's also def his type @_@

@hongyangi — ji changmin; high-key just a menace, always sending me sexc tbz pics and making me go feral 😭😭😭 but also like i read somewhere that changmin is usually the member who goes into others' rooms to just be w them, and dal kinda does that w the way she's always popping into people's inboxes to say hi <33

@hqrana — kevin moon; brooooo the way noa vibes is so kevin lmao like just a lot of good sass and attitude and i feel very alive yet comforted when i speak to her 🫂🫂 she and kevin r just so iconic as well, and it just feels like the right match if u get what i mean??

@loveliestfelix — choi chanhee; OMG like these two r absolute STUNNERS. im TELLING U wkfnksjf so much style, and also nana has such a sweet smile like chanhee (the quality goes hard guys 😔) but yeah nana is like, the person i admire (i get starstruck by her) and wanna embody just like new :'))

[elucien22904]

honestly, ic sometimes is not it.. they're placed on this pedestal and they do alot of questionable shit like yes they do care abt each other but anyone that's beyond their little circle isn't treated right. and that includes elain and boe and even eris to an extent. I feel like they can be very judgemental and toxic. they'll treat someone within their circle who's had trauma with so much care and space but if someone else outside their grp has the same trauma none of them would give a shit. biggest eg. is feyre and lucien. y'all literally fought tooth and nail to get feyre her freedom, but send lucien back to his abuser. he's been abused physically, verbally and sexually, and none of y'all gave a shit.

elain needs to get the hell outta there. ma'am pack a bag, grab your mate and leave, don't even say goodbye, trust me ur better off.

YES I AGREE BEAUTIFUL!!!! i think that it’s actually pretty realistic how the ic can be hypocritical n contradict the statements they make. to build off what u said above, how they pride feyre n mor for being strong enough to leave their abusers but then send lucien right back to his bc it helps them sleep at night. don’t get me wrong, i love feyre n the ic… but they’re not perfect n i have my moments (literally all of acofas) where i can’t stand them. i just saw a post by @darklove9314-blog w additions by @whereisvaughan that reminded me of even more of their hypocrisy especially when it comes to armen. like in what world would using one sister to manipulate another is okay?? n then saying “well sometimes you need to do bad things for the greater good 🥺” like shut up elain literally volunteered n y’all (azriel) shut her down.

they also have no problems using eluciens mating bond against them.

“perhaps lucien being elains mate would help-somehow. i’d find a way.” -pg.621 acowar

like i love rhys but after he said that i wanted to punch him. like u value ur mating bond sm but literally moments after lucien n elain see each other for the first time ur already plotting how to manipulate elain against lucien?? u n i r speaking the same language- elain needs to leave. i hate when ppl say that “sjm isn’t just gonna uproot her from the night court she loves the night court!!!” that may be right- but feyre thought she was going to spend her life in spring n it took her like two months to leave. (also ppl act like sjm cant make major changes to her plot….. have y’all read throne of glass it took like two paragraphs to change celaena to aelin)

this got a lil long lol but to sum it up- there’s no way elain can stay in the night court while living her life in a healthy way. i like to make jokes abt it but it’s not good that she just genuinely doesn’t do anything, n it’s even worse when the people around her only value her when they need someone else to do their bidding. they don’t see her as an individual they see her as a means to an end. the ic isn’t her family n i don’t even think she’s good friends w any of them. you can still love ppl n live far away. her leaving doesn’t have to be the result of an awful falling out…. she can just realize that she needs a little distance to grow n live her own life (w lucien) happily.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Tolerate It | S.R

Not my gif

To the Anon that sent me the ask for a song blurb with Taylor Swift’s Tolerate It, I am so sorry I accidentally deleted it 😫 but here it is!

This is for my milestone celebration which I am still taking requests for!

Summary - your relationship with Spencer seems to be on a downward spiral after seeing him kiss Cat Adam’s. Does he still love you or just simply tolerate you?

Content Warnings - angst, mentions of prison and Cat Adam’s and Spencer’s complicated feeling towards her, lethal injection. Angst with a hopeful ending.

Word Count - 1.9k

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

I sit and watch you reading with your head low,

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed.

I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do,

You're so much older and wiser and I.

It was a simple thing for you to say that Spencer Reid was the love of your life. 

You’d fallen for him hook line and sinker the first time you’d laid eyes on him across an exhibit at the Smithsonian several years ago. 

You were taking an art class in your free time and had gone to the museum for inspiration. You’d hoped to find it sitting in the middle of the Butterfly Pavilion surrounded by the beautiful creatures and tropical atmosphere. 

Instead you’d found it in the deep hazel eyes and messy haired man walking among them. 

You’d been bold to go and talk to him, not usually the type to make the first move. 

He’d told you his name was Spencer and he liked to spend his free time from his job at the FBI wandering the halls of museums. 

You spent several hours speaking with him, soaking in all his facts about butterflies and the rain forest. 

You’d let him take you to dinner afterwards and the rest was history. 

Things had been perfect between the two of you, both of you falling head over heels for the other easily. It seemed as though you’d met your perfect match, the man you’d spend the rest of your life with. 

You complimented each other, made up for the others shortcomings. He was the ying to your yang. The salt to your pepper. The sun to your moon. 

You’d been together four years when he was arrested in Mexico. You’d thought it was the hardest thing your relationship would have to withstand. 

The three months he spent inside was the longest the two of you had ever spent apart. You didn’t expect him to come out unchanged, unscathed; you knew he would be different. 

He pushed away. It started as little things here and there but soon started growing. He wasn’t the same man he used to be, he wasn’t the man who had spent an entire afternoon spouting butterfly facts just to see you smile. 

His behaviour forced your hand. You told him if something didn’t change you were leaving, you couldn’t keep living like this. 

And to his credit, Spencer had tried for you. 

He was never going to be the same but he was trying and that was all you could ask for. You learnt to love this new incarnation of him and the two of you fell back into a groove. 

Not the same groove, but a new kind you eventually grew to love just the same as you had your old one. 

And then Cat Adam’s reared her ugly head again. 

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid,

Use my best colors for your portrait.

Lay the table with the fancy shit,

And watch you tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now,

Tell me I've got it wrong somehow.

I know my love should be celebrated,

But you tolerate it.

The day you’d found Spencer swapping saliva with the hitwoman outside of the door of your apartment, you’d known things would never be the same again. 

As much as he tried to tell you he was playing along with her game, you knew him better than that. You’d seen the look in his eyes when he’d realised you were behind the door. You saw the passion he’d put into that kiss. 

So as simple as it was for you to say that Spencer Reid was the love of your life, you knew from that day that you weren’t his. 

Cat Adam’s was. 

You tried to ignore it, tried to stuff it down in a little box and throw yourself into your relationship with vigour. 

But it became clear no matter how much you tried to be the perfect partner and give Spencer the faultless kind of love he needed; you were never enough for him.

Not anymore. 

I greet you with a battle hero's welcome,

I take your indiscretions all in good fun.

I sit and listen, I polish plates until they gleam and glisten,

You're so much older and wiser and I.

Every time he was due home from a case you greeted him at the door with a wide smile and open arms. 

You made sure the apartment was clean and always had his favourite meals prepared and waiting on the table for him. 

You’d tell him all about the things you’d been up to while he was away, barely getting anything in return. 

Sometimes you’d have sex, but it was far from the love making you used to share. 

When you told him you loved him it was always with enthusiasm in your voice, ensuring he knew you meant it. 

But it had been a long time since he’d said it in return. 

Over the years you’d made Spencer the focal point of your life, your top priority, while it seemed as though you’d become but a footnote in his. 

Every conversation was strained, like trying to suck blood from a stone. He didn’t spill facts at you the way he used to, he barely talked to you at all. 

And when he did he didn’t have the same kindness to his voice that he used to. 

You studied him on countless occasions and noticed the spark had long burnt out from behind his eyes. His shoulders were always slumped, he walked like he had something weighing him down. 

Even when he slept he didn’t look peaceful. 

Sometimes he mumbled her name in his unconsciousness and it was like a knife to the heart every single time. 

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid,

Use my best colors for your portrait.

Lay the table with the fancy shit,

And watch you tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now,

Tell me I've got it wrong somehow.

I know my love should be celebrated,

But you tolerate it.

You felt like you’d become a hindrance to the man you loved. Your childish optimism and affection towards him was always shut down, as he retreated further into himself with each passing day. 

And maybe if you didn’t love him so much, you would have walked away. He tolerated you being in his life but he certainly didn’t love you anymore. How could? He couldn’t act like this towards you if he did. 

You deserved better. You deserve someone to love you the way you loved them. You shouldn’t have to stand for being second best, least of all to a psychopathic serial killer who’d gotten under his skin and somehow, into his heart. 

While you were out building other worlds, where was I?

Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky,

Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life.

Drawing hearts in the byline,

Always taking up too much space or time.

You assume I'm fine,

But what would you do if I…

The day he came home looking more dishelved than usual, and past you straight by, heading upstairs, was the day you’d had enough. 

You followed him upstairs to the bedroom where he was getting out of his tie and jacket but he didn’t make eye contact with you. 

“Hello to you too.” You folded your arms across your chest, at wits end. 

“Hi.” He croaked, dumping the jacket and tie on the floor. 

“Can you even look at me?” You felt tears in your eyes, tears that had been building for months. “I know I’m not her but could you just look at me? See me?” 

He sighed loudly, running his fingers through his tangled hair before looking at you. 

“I assume the her you’re referring to is Cat?” 

“Who else?” You clenched your jaw, hoping to stem your tears. “I can’t believe I’m competing for your love with a serial killer!”

He sighed again, slumping back to the bed. 

“She’s dead.” He shrugged. “I went to her execution today. I watched them stick the needle in her arm and end her life.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Good riddance! I’m glad she’s dead.” 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He confessed, seemingly not hearing your words. “I don’t know how I let her under my skin this way. She put me in prison. She kidnapped my mom. But yet she had this sick hold over me and I don’t know what that means for me.” 

When he looked back up at you he had tears rolling down his cheeks. 

You softened in an instant and let your arms fall to your sides. 

You came closer to him and cautiously sat down next to him. 

“Did you love her?” Your own tears broke free now. 

“What? No, no of course not. I…I…I don’t think so.” He shook his head with another sigh. “The truth is I don’t know, ok? I had some kind of feelings for her, that much I do know. But what does that make me? How can I have feelings for someone like her?” 

His eyes were searching you for answers you didn’t have. And instead of giving him a half hearted response, you surprised him when you took hold of his hand. 

“You see the best in everyone, Spencer.” You brushed your thumb over his knuckles. “Even in people who are evil through and through. You humanise them. You try to find the good in them. You’re a protector, you wanted to help her even though she didn’t deserve your help. You’ve got a huge heart Spencer but sometimes that’s not always a good thing.” 

“I’ve not been fair to you.” He reached for you with his free hand and brushed your tears with his fingertips. “I’ve not treated you right because I was so caught up in her. Can you ever forgive me?” 

His eyes were begging, pleading with you desperately. 

You leaned into his touch and sighed shakily. 

“Answer me this Spencer, do you still love me? Or do you simply tolerate me?” 

You heard a pained whimper leave his lips as a sob wracked through him. 

His bottom lip quivered and he let his hand drop to his side. 

“Of course I love you, angel. I promise from now on I’ll show you how much, every single day. I could never simply tolerate you, my love. I’ve been a fool, but you are my whole world, ok?” 

With that you fell into his arms as you both sobbed. 

You weren’t sure what the future would hold for you and Spencer but for the first time in months you had a small glimmer of hope. 

A glimmer of hope that he wouldn’t just tolerate your love, he would celebrate it. 

Break free and leave us in ruins,

Took this dagger in me and removed it.

Gain the weight of you then lose it,

Believe me, I could do it.

If it's all in my head tell me now,

Tell me I've got it wrong somehow.

I know my love should be celebrated,

But you tolerate it.

I sit and watch you.

[natperv]

Natasha x reader where Reader was reckless on a mission and got injured and Natasha is upset with R but R is acting like it’s not a big deal

a/n: ANON BLESS YOU THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA. i wasn't sure if you wanted r and nat to already be involved or Not so i just didn’t put a label on their relationship, you can imagine whatever dynamic you’d like! i hope you like this :p

needing you

gn!reader x natasha

genre: mostly angst then some fluff

warnings: bruises/injuries, mentions of death

word count: 1k

you waltz into the infirmary, your right arm limp at your side, the other gripping it awkwardly. apart from your scratched up face, bruised jaw, and sprained ankle, you had also managed to get your arm severely wounded in the fight. it was now bleeding through your suit, a long gash leading up to your shoulder. it was definitely going to scar. natasha had ushered you all the way through the avengers compound, the two of you walking in a synced silence. you pushed yourself up onto the cot, sitting at the edge as she rifled through the cabinets above. she was a mess too, her pale flesh caked with the residue of your mission, her hair covered in dust, braided down her back. she still looked beautiful, despite everything, she could never not look beautiful. "how cool was that?" you finally speak up, suffocated by the quiet, finding your phone in your pocket and using your one, unharmed arm to scroll through it aimlessly. your head was actually pounding from the pain, but you didn't want to admit it out loud. natasha stayed silent.

"nat," you called, setting your phone down and staring at the back of her head as she grabbed bandages and rubbing alcohol and whatever else she needed, "earth to natasha." nothing. you rolled your eyes. "i'm speaking to you." she turned to face you. it wasn't until that moment that you saw the clear, aggravated look in her eyes. you shifted in your place awkwardly, expecting.. what? you weren't sure, but what greeted you was only more silence. she walked over to the cot and used a pair of scissors to cut off the part of your suit that covered your injury. "did you hear what i said?" you tried again, honestly starting to get embarrassed. she sighed. "yes, y/n. what do you want me to say?" she set the scissors aside and grabbed the rubbing alcohol as she spoke, pouring it on a piece of cotton, "if you honestly think that went well, you're stupider than i thought." her voice was sharp and demanding. she's never really used that tone with you.

you hissed as she started to clean your wound without warning, wincing at the stinging sensation. "what?" you questioned, visibly irritated. "what?" natasha emphasized, like she's shocked you're even asking, "you were completely reckless, you put the whole mission at risk." you scoffed, pulling your arm away from her as though it was some kind of punishment that she didn't get to look after you. "what the hell are you talking about?" she glared at you. "everyone's fine. in fact, everyone's great! i basically saved the day. you should be thanking me." you would get up and storm out if you weren't in so much pain. she was now on the opposite end of the cot, her palms flat against it as she looked you directly in the eyes. "thanking you? you're supposed to share responsibility with the group--not act on impulse and nearly get yourself killed!"

 "i am perfectly capable of making my own decisions, nat. that's not fair.” you rolled your eyes, “and in case you forgot," you gestured to yourself with your healthy arm, "i wasn't killed.” you glanced towards your arm. it had stopped bleeding, but a big portion of your flesh had been axed right through. you would have lost the thing if natasha hadn’t killed him before his second hit landed. it looked disgusting and it hurt like a bitch. “it's just a cut, i can barely even feel it." you lied. "yeah," natasha furrowed her brows the way she does when she's very upset, "and you're lucky i was there or that cut would have been down the center of your skull." you threw your head back in utter disbelief. "stop doing this!" you point at her, "stop making me feel like i'm some kid you need to babysit."

"i'll stop treating you like a kid when you stop acting like one." you huff, a single strand of hair falling down your forehead and you brush it away in frustration. "i've made it this far without you. trust me, i'm fine on my own." it's silent for a beat before natasha speaks again. and when you look to meet her eyes, she's slow to hide the hurt in them. you almost open your mouth to say sorry when she speaks instead, her voice hardened. "i am not going to apologize for trying to protect you.” you stare at her. “i don’t need your protection,” you feel a heavy weight in your chest. “i have done--” you inhale a shaky breath to steady yourself, refusing to meet her gaze, “--everything, to try and win your approval and nothing is ever good enough for you.” your brows wrinkle, you think you might actually cry. is that what nat thinks of you? that you’re some loser who can’t look after themselves? does she not value you the same way she values the rest of the avengers? “it’s my life. i’m allowed to put it on the line for the people i care about.”

“no!” the intensity in her tone catches you off guard. “no, you’re not!” you look up to find that she’s in front of you now. you can see the details on her skin, every hair on her eyebrow, every freckle and scar. “you’re not..” she swallows, trying to steady her tone, her hands cup your cheeks and she makes you look at her, “you can’t, okay?” she combs your hair away from your face, a slight glint in her eyes, but she doesn’t let a tear slip. “i need you.” her voice cracks and you’re hit with the sudden realization that you’ve misunderstood this entire discussion. “i need you alive.” she moves up and presses a kiss to the top of your head, burying herself in your scent, breathing all of you in as you wrap your arm around her waist and pull her to you, resting your head on her chest. 

[mirclealignr]

Regulus Black Fluff Alphabet

regulus x gn! reader

requested by anon

warnings; brief mentions of food and anxiety

from this alphabet

A - Affection; how they like to show their love.

Regulus does a lot through touch and reassuring looks/smiles. He finds it hard sometimes to express just how he feels about you, especially considering expressions of love were severely lacking in his life. But when he holds your hand or caresses your face, he feels as if he's spilling all his secrets, and hopes that you understand them.

B - Beauty; what do they especially admire about you?

Your warmth. At first it was practically disarming, but overtime he learned to embrace it and miss it when it was absent, when you were absent. It would be so different to what he was used to, especially with the people closest to him. But he would adore the change that was you.

C - Cuddles; how they like to cuddle you.

Most of the time he likes to have his arms around you, sitting up slightly while you lay against his chest. There's a sense of safety he finds in knowing that you can hear his heartbeat and that it doesn't scare you off. But sometimes, he likes it when you take him in your arms and he can nuzzle in the crook of your neck.

D - Dancing; their favourite place to dance with you.

He is simply a hopeless romantic, and loves to dance with you when it's dark and raining outside, when the two of you are almost completely alone. He loves watching you smile as the rain seeps into your clothes and dampens your hair, and when you rest your head on his chest for some shelter.

E - Excitement; do they get excited with you about things?

Regulus likes to understand things before he gets excited about them with you. If you come running to him with an elated expression and start rambling about whatever brought you this pleasure, he'd want to know why. He'd want to understand you and relate to you. Almost always, he'd become just as excited as you.

F - First Date; your first date together.

The Astronomy Tower. Regulus would want to be alone with you, without prying or judging eyes. It wouldn't be much, maybe some snacks and a drink he brought for you, but he would want to hear you talk and laugh and to see you smile. He'd want to know your likes and dislikes, the memories you cherished, and things you looked back on and laughed at.

G - Goals; do they have things they want to achieve? Do they include you in these things?

For Regulus, his future goals remain largely unclear. Before you, he thought it was simple, but afterwards it would become far more complicated. With the weight of his family, and Sirius' abandonment making it heavier, he would often try to avoid the thought. But if you ever brought it up, he'd tell you that wherever you were, he would be.

H - Honesty; how open are they with you?

Very. Trust is something extremely important to him. While he may not tell you everything the second it happens, he does have every intention of letting you see every side of him, even the parts he wished would vanish from existence. Upon getting to know you, the trials of his family would be revealed slowly, rather than all at once, so he didn't overwhelm you. Of course, he'd be terrified, but he knew it was better that way, and he knew that you would love him all the same.

I - I Love You; do they say it a lot? did they say it first?

Regulus does not say it first, though he'd be sure he felt it first. He confesses straight after you, though, and gradually says it more and more over time. Expressing his feelings would not come easy, and sometimes, rather than tell you how much he appreciated you for listening or how beautiful he thought you were, he simply said 'I love you' in replacement, hoping that it would be enough.

J - Jealousy; do they get jealous?

Not necessarily jealous, but rather insecure. When he sees you laughing with someone else, he'd wonder whether they were better suited to you--they were warmer, more free, happier. Perhaps he brought you down, perhaps he weighed you down, and though he didn't express these insecurities out loud, he'd always seem to be easily read by you. And you'd always be there to reassure him when you needed to.

K - Kiss; their favourite place to kiss you.

Your hands. For Regulus, hands mean so much, represent so much, and yours are his to kiss and hold as much as he pleases. To him it would feel incredibly intimate, despite the fact that your hands can touch others, but that they're only his to kiss and hold. People can always get close, but never as close as he can.

L - Little Spoon; who’s the little spoon?

The majority of the time, you are the little spoon. He likes the idea that he is able to protect you, actually make you feel safe and wanted; it's one of the things he prides himself on. But, there woulds be times when he needed to feel that, and revelled in the warmth of your embrace tightening around him, holding him close.

M - Melody; what’s your song together?

I think your song together would be 'I Want to Hold Your Hand' by The Beatles.

N - Nicknames; do they use nicknames for you?

Yes a few. Some of them would include 'treasure' and/or 'my treasure' because he adores you and could not think of anything better than you. For him, you are what people search for their whole lives, sometimes without ever finding it. And, because he speaks French, ‘mon chéri /ma chérie' for definite.

O - Open Book; how hard was it to get to know them?

It wasn't necessarily hard, just gradual. However, you would have always suspected that Regulus did not have it easy and were content with him going at his own pace, and appreciating that he was brave enough to reveal it all to you. It never seemed too slow, rushed, or overwhelming--he picked his timings well and never let things become too heavy. He'd also be very conscious that everyone had their own burdens, and would make sure he always left time and room for you to air anything you wanted or needed.

P - PDA; how affectionate they are in public.

Not very much at all. He prefers to show you his love when it's just the two of you. But he isn't afraid to let other people know that you're in a relationship, and will often intertwine his fingers with yours, whisper things in your ear, and kiss your temple.

Q - Quirk: a weird but loveable trait of theirs.

He never signs his name, he always signs R.A.B. Even when it's small notes to you, little love letters, or ordinary letters, he will never sign it as Regulus, but with his full initials.

R - Romance; how romantic are they?

So much. He loves leaving you love notes, writing love letters to you, slow dancing with you, playing music for you, watching the stars with you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, snuggling up in bed with you with a good book. He loves to do it all.

S - Secrets; do they keep secrets from you?

Not really. Perhaps only ones he thinks would unnecessarily hurt you, like what his family says about you. He doesn't tell you because he doesn't think it matters, they don't matter to him, only you do, and he wants their words to mean nothing.

T - Thrill; do they like to keep the relationship new and exciting?

He likes to, and he tries. He certainly likes surprising you, even if only to see that smile. He likes taking you places, learning your favourite songs on the piano simply because you like hearing them, taking you on spontaneous trips or dates. He's not on for grand, public gestures, but he still keeps excitement in the relationship his own way. But he also knows when things need to be slow and calm, and doesn't mind it either way.

U - Understanding; how they comfort/support when you’re upset or anxious.

He knows that most things said would be wrong, even if they were intended to be reassuring and understanding. Even when you talk about what's bothering you or don't, it can be hard to say the right thing. So instead, he takes you in his arms, rubs your back, kisses your cheek and gets you any comfort foods that you wish for. Sometimes, words speak far less than actions.

V - Vexed; how easily they lose their temper.

With his family, and even with Sirius, Regulus can lose his temper very quickly, but you understand that their relationship has not been easy, nor do you care for his family. With you, it's rare that he loses his temper or raises his voice at you. When he does, there are usually other factors that have contributed to his mood, and he is quick to apologise afterwards.

W - Weakness; what’s their weakness what it comes to you?

Your smile. So easily it can make him feel like he's falling from the stars, watching the constellations become smaller and smaller as he slips into the earth's atmosphere, burning and smiling and falling completely in love with you every time he sees it.

X - Xtra; random hc about them.

Regulus likes to speak in French to you when there are things he is too afraid to say or things he thinks sound more romantic when said in another language. Even if you can understand him, there's something less nerve-racking about saying it in French, it's almost like he's playing himself in another world, but still hopelessly in love with you.

Y - Years to Come; how they imagine your future together.

He doesn't like to think about the future often because he knows how easily it can change and fail to meet your expectations. He only hopes that he is with you, facing whatever is to come. He prefers to focus on the present, where he already is with you.

Z - Zzz; how they are when they sleep.

Incredibly still, almost scarily still. The only time he moves is to be closer to you, closer to your exuding warmth. It almost frightens you to move in case it wakes him or disturbs him, but if it does, he never lets on. - - - fill in this form or send an ask to be added to a tag list <3 forever friends; @myalupinblack / @selenes-sun / @vixxiann /@queen-asteria04 / @lillict / @savingpluto /@theincredibledeadlyviper / @pad-foots / @fizzleberries / @willowbleedsonpaper / @kinkyduuh harry potter; @fuckingbloodyhello / @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts / @scvrllet / @dreamerinthesun / @crazy-beautiful / @chaoticgirl04 /@cupids-crystals / @fandom-life-12 / @mypainistemporary-blog /@oliverwoodmarrymepls / @eunoniaa / @missryerye marauders era; @spxllcxstxr / @natashxromanovfreads / @ch /@sereinegemini / @helen-with-an-a / @sweeter-than-strawberries /@spxncervibes regulus black; @jackys-stuff-blog / @with-love-anu / @yinrose98 /@tarorootboba / @lyaseille / @bloodblossom73

[moose-muffin]

Sooooo... Uhmmhmhumhmhm.,.,. Do you have any Manray HCS to feed the hungry masses? Maybe? 👉👈👀

Please for the love of god I am starving fhdjdjj

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!!! HI!!! I AM APART OF YOU LOVELY PEOPLE SO LETS GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD SHALL WE??? THIS IS LOOOOOONG OVERDUE <3 (ALSO THANK U SM FOR THE ASK, OPENING IT MADE MY DAY AND I HOPE THESE HCS MAKE YOURS <3)

MANRAY TICKLE HEADCANONS!!!!!!!!

as a lee…

- HE IS ACTUALLY ADORABLE! LIKE??? FULL STOP JUST THE SWEETEST THING. THINK ABOUT IT RIGHT, HE WAS FULLY PREPARED TO TAKE SPONGE AND PAT OUT AND HE COULDNT BC HE WAS JUST SO TICKLISH HE FELL ON THE FLOOR AND CURLED UP WITH LAUGHTER, HOW MUCH SWEETER CAN HE GET!? ESP BC HES SO THREATENING TOO ITS AN AMAZING COMBO

- like I know the show is silly and all that but it’s also like confirmed to be something Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy themselves have used on him!? like… they MADE THE TICKLE BELT, F O R MANRAY!? this implies they had to find out somehow that he was uber ticklish and I am so curious about that backstory… (more on this later tbh..)

- BACK TO THE THREATENING THING!! his character is genuinely scary like bros got a laundry list of bad stuff he’s done but yet tickling is the thing that takes him out! seriously will never get over it <3

- and also there may not have been that much though in the placement of the belt itself, I’d assume it tickles mainly his lower torso/abs which is a valid spot and I genuinely adore that so much <3

- If I had to continue the list of spots I see him as being ticklish is say bros got ticklish thighs for days… also he’s pretty damn muscular so anywhere that’s strong af is also ticklish af, I don’t even make the rules here THATS like legit science LOL

- also???? there’s like this sweet little video of a irl manta ray getting tickled and its instinctual reaction is to curl up a little bit and the fact that Manray mirrors that is wonderful (could be a coincidence but considering Hillenburgs background in Marine Biology there’s a chance it was planned)

- Also bro has so many little laughs I am obssesed!!!! like he giggles a lot but sometimes has moments of more rambunctious and louder laughter and it is a truly beautiful combo

- If you are to tickle him he is quite literally putty in your hands <3 so so sensitive and so much potential for the best sounds you’ve ever heard

as a ler…

- I’ll probably make more headcanons later (aka anon if you’d like more pls remind me darling bc I will probs forget)

- BUT HIM AS A LER!? He is so unforgiving

- im not sure if anyone would remember this but in the beginning of one of the episodes there’s like a Krusty Krab commerial with Mermaid Man and Barnacle boy being tied up and tickled by manray (implied, nothing is actually shown but it’s said it occurs) to the point of wetting themselves… speaks VOLUMES to how far this man would go for you, if you wanted it of course

- I mean that too, when he’s not up against his enemies he is truly such a polite gentleman and I respect that so much

- He would be similar to a partner totally. Just absolutely the kindest ever but the moment you want to be tickled, say LESS

- he’s on that so fast, bro is ready to pay back anyone for the time he’s spent with the belt on. It brings him joy tbh, and when he knows you love it, it brings him even MORE joy ;)

- He definitely goes for your worst spots and pushes boundaries but would absolutely check in on you after to make sure you’re ok

- He’s something else.. and he may be evil but he cares about you

- He’s such a little ass I love him, you’ll see his shit-eating grin and just KNOW what’s about to go down

- He doesn’t do tickle fights, he does tickle WARS. he LOOOOVES the idea of it being ever running, he could strike at any moment and you’d never know *oOOOooOooo*

- Speaking of that sound effect he absolutely teases like crazy. He’s got the wiggly fingers, the little evil giggles, the whispering teases into your ear when he can.

- Ok I need to stop myself now but all in all, he would be all over tickling, he’s such a wonderful character man and I’m glad you enjoy him as well!!! I’d love to make more headcanons for him so just remind me <3 I can go more specific as well like an x reader or background story type thing, you tell me!!!

ok!!! love you byeee!! thank you anon for a lovely request!!!!

[allthepresidentsmen1976]

Tell me about a movie that u like . What are your favorite aspects of it?

anon i love u

god i like so many movies but i’ll talk abt and then we danced (2019) (in its original georgian: და ��ვენ ვიცეკვეთ) bc i love it very very dearly and i don’t talk about it enough <3 (i talk abt it plenty but whatever)

(heads up this is not proper analysis or v well written it’s just some things i like abt the movie :^) + the numbers aren’t really to order more just to keep my thoughts organised)

1. i really just wholeheartedly adore the colour palette of it it’s so warm and gentle and there is so much light to it. it seems like it’s fairly cold (they generally wear a lot of layers) but it’s such a cosy and gentle movie and i 100% believe that so much of this is to do w/ the fact that the colours tend towards warmer shades even when they aren’t the yellows/oranges/reds that so much of this movie is. but also there r key points throughout the movie where the colouring DOES go colder and i really enjoy that abt this movie too the fact that it is generally v good at considering the imagery of everything n how it reflects the shifts in emotional states + what the characters are coming to know. i find it to b quite an internal movie (in a good way but like the characters aren’t hugely talkative there’s v little excess + the story/plot is focused around a small situation + a very emotional one) and i think that the colours do a v good job of bringing that internal story to a visual state (here r just some pretty colours)

2. the family + friends in this movie are so so gentle like there is conflict for sure but there is also just so much love that it’s a little unbearable (<- okay u can clearly tell i’m Emotional tonight . this is true but this movie is also to me one that i can absolutely have on in the background and just exist alongside w/out too much tension). but it really is just beautiful the way that this family loves each other and these friends love each other and through everyone’s mistakes and misguided moments there is such a return to comfort and belonging and also the safety you can find in the people you love. there’s a stunning moment where the protagonist merab and his brother david lie on merab’s bed together and it is i think one of the gentlest moments ever put to screen

3. i also really adore how very natural this movie feels in that the actors (particularly merab’s but also irakli’s and david’s) just work in a way that is so human and so realistic and they move and speak and stand as though they are just people. often levan gelbakhiani (who played merab) will make this movements and they are so subtle and so everyday that you almost miss them (things like touching something or playing w/ his necklace) but they contribute so much to the overall feel of both the character and the movie. and i think for a film that i believe tries to ground itself in reality and give the audience an insight into a real human life, this is particularly significant. because i think that’s what this film does, it pulls you very deliberately into a very ordinary life. AND the dancing and the dancing environment is also v v realistic which is something i appreciate as someone who did ballet for a long time !!

[kiegem]

﹥ Insecure s/o

"anyways, can I ask for a head canon for Kenma, Atsumu and Bokuto for an insecure fem s/o and she says "I wish I was pretty like her" or "i wish i have their body" stuff like that in front of them?" - anon

⥅Genre ━ fluff, comfort, fem!

⥅Characters ━ Kenma Kozume, Atsumu Miya, and Bokuto Koutarou

⥅Warnings ━ comparing and self-doubt.

⥅Authors n: Thanks for the req! (edited 08.12.21)

K E N M A – K O Z U M E

I'm sure Kenma would notice straight quickly since he's a sharp observer, and he'd question you right away. He would not, however, push you to speak. Making you feel uneasy is a major no-no for him.

If you tell him, he will do his best to help you, despite the fact that he isn't particularly good at it.

You and Kenma were lounging on the sofa today, he playing his Nintendo and you looking through Instagram. When you first launched the app, you saw a photo of an idol you adore. She was talented, kind, and attractive.

You gazed at her portrait, quietly comparing yourself to her, thinking to yourself, "How can someone be so gorgeous when I look like this?"

And kenma was the first to notice. He saw what was going on right away and realized he needed to do something to enhance your self-esteem. Isn't it correct that he'd never allow his cherished significant other feel insecure? “Y/n, do you have anything bugging you...?” He paused his game and turned to face you.

“I wish I was as attractive as she is. As you stare at the photo, you admitted, "Recently, I've felt so hideous." Kenma let out a sigh. “Well, you're really appealing to me...Y/n, I adore you in every way. Please keep that in mind. ” he flushed as he fidgets with your fingers, hoping his comments weren't too invasive.

Kenma may not be the best with words, but you can clearly sense his love with the simplest gestures.

A T S U M U – M I Y A

Atsumu is completely over heels in love with his s/o, so he'll be shocked if you're self-conscious about your appearance.

He'd shower you with compliments, and he'd go out of his way to make you feel good about yourself; he's your cheerleader.

Despite the fact that he is obstinate. Please bear in mind that he respects you like a queen and would never push you.

He'd observed how you constantly seemed to stare at yourself in the mirror for hours, how your grin never reached your eyes, and how you always covered yourself. Particularly your body.

He'd had enough and felt motivated to take action. He wants you to know how much he cares about you. He lifted your chin up so he could see your eyes once you sat alongside him.

 asking, "What's wrong, babe?" You pouted as you reached for your phone, 

“I feel like I'm gaining/losing weight, and I can't help but feel uneasy whenever I see models on my feed, you know?” He was wounded when you showed him a photo of a female. You groaned and put your phone aside, saying, "I've always desire to have her body..."

“Every aspect of you is already beautiful.  You're the epitome of perfection!” He grabbed your thigh and whispered, He grinned as he said, "And I like these, but please talk to me if you ever feel insecure again."

You laugh and say, "Will do, sumu."

B O K U T O – K O U T A R O U

This kid isn't stupid; he can tell you're insecure about something, but he doesn't know what it is — you're simply too attractive.

But he wouldn't wait until you went insane before approaching you; he'd approach you whenever he had the opportunity.

The fact that you're insecure hurts him on the inside. And he wishes to comfort you in every way he can.

He genuinely cares about you.

Eventually, you and Bokuto were cuddling at his place while watching volleyball. You enjoy cuddling, but your body is refusing to comply. You've never been fond of your physical appearance.

For instance, the two goddesses, Yachi and Kiyoko. When you become close to them, you can't help but compare yourself to them. You have a sense of being left out.

You had the impression that everyone was quietly criticizing you, and you didn't like it. Strangers' looks make you want to pull yourself apart as you pass by them.

“You seem down sweet, something upsetting you?” you ask, surprised at how long you've been quiet.

“oh, sorry. But I was simply curious. Is it true that I am attractive? At the very least, am I presentable...like the other managers?” He was taken aback; you're self-conscious about your appearance, which is something he adores the most.

“Of course you are!” says Bokuto, " Please know that you are stunning from head to toe, and I consider myself lucky to have you.” He pouted and hugged you.

“Let us create our own universe so that no one can judge us! Do you think that's a good idea?” He cuddled you with a big smile on his face.

“Thanks, kou...that sounds nice.”

[talatomaz]

chased away by shadows | hailey upton x fem!reader

a/n: i didn’t include a love confession but i did reference it. after 8x11, we saw how hailey reacts to those words and honestly, i get it bc i’m kinda the same so i just changed it up a bit.

not a huge fan of this and there’s not as much hailey x r as i initially wanted but oh well, hope you still like it anon

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

requested by anon: “hi! can i please request a hailey upton x intelligence love interest reader please? it’s been a really rough case and reader is quite depressed and hailey comes over and reader ends up falling asleep safe and warm in hailey’s arms and in the morning there is a love confession maybe? hope that makes sense, thank you x ”

warnings: mentions of assault, death, murder. usual canon violence

word count: 1.6k

masterlist | navigation | request rules

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Upton and I will take the front. Burgess, Atwater, secure the back.”

You ordered, whispering into your comms.

It had been a rough couple of days.

The Intelligence Unit had caught a rape and murder case with seemingly no witnesses or leads to the sick bastard who’d done this.

Like the rest of your team, you were damn near losing the end of your rag at the lack of leads and it didn’t help that this brought up some unwanted memories from your past.

You shrugged them off, not wanting to get emotional at work but it was difficult. Especially when you had no idea who you were looking for.

But you’d managed to catch a break as one of your CIs had contacted you, telling you that they had heard about some gang member who’d been boasting about “having fun with a chick before popping her off”.

After some further investigation, you’d managed to identify the man. He had a rap sheet about as long as your arm, including prior battery and assault charges.

It was only when Halstead had found out that he was holed up in a supposedly vacant property that you’d all geared up, armed to the nines because you knew the kind of heat this gang carried.

“On my mark.” Halstead said into your comms.

He waited a few moments for you all to get into position. You were standing behind Hailey, your hand on her arm, alert and ready to conduct your search.

“Be careful.”

“You too.” You replied softy to your girlfriend.

You’d been dating for the past 6 months, having fallen into bed one night after a evening out at Molly’s. You’d both agreed to keep it a secret as it was a one-time thing but what you both didn’t realise at the time was just how much you liked one another.

It had soon become a habit. The two of you sleeping together after everyone gathered for a social call at Molly’s until one evening, Hailey told you that she liked you and wanted the two of you to be more than just sex.

You were surprised to say the least because there was never any indication that she liked you. In fact, you thought she was out of your league considering how beautiful and smart she was. But you decided to take the leap and you were so glad you did because you loved being with her.

Not that you’d told her those words yet, mind you.

It was a tough thing to say, for you anyway, especially after your past alongside the lack of any emotional attachments with your parents. And you knew Hailey had her fair share of trauma too, the majority of which you learned after you and Ruzek overheard her telling a suspect they had in interrogation.

And although your relationship wasn’t without its flaws, it had pretty much been smooth sailing since the moment you’d got together. No unnecessary drama or bullshit.

That was the last thing the both of you needed in this type of job.

“Now.” Halstead ordered so you gave a quick nod to the blonde before yelling “Chicago PD!” as Hailey kicked the door down.

There were a few offenders in the house who tried to run when you’d entered and as Hailey and the rest of the team went to secure them, you made your way up the stairs to see if there was anyone else hiding out.

Your arm was extended, gun clutched carefully in your hand, finger just next to the trigger, ready for any indication of movement. Reaching the landing at the top of the stairs, you entered one of the bedrooms. As you stepped through the door, someone jumped out and hit you in the head with a bottle. It shattered upon contact with your skull and the force threw you as you groaned in pain.

You began fighting the male, who weighed at least 100 pounds more than you, so it was no small feat. You wrestled with the gun he’d aimed at you before kicking him in between his legs and throat punching him.

As he coughed to catch his breath, you grabbed your gun that had fallen out of your hands and aimed it at the man crumbled on the floor. Ignoring the way blood seeped from your wound and down your face, you yelled, “Chicago PD. Stay down or I will drop you.”

Staring down at him, you realised that it was the man you’d been looking for and when he looked up at you with a sinister smirk on his face, you wanted nothing more than to shoot him where he lay.

But you had more self control than that so, instead, you kept your gun trained on him and called downstairs for back-up.

In less than a minute, Hailey and Jay were right beside you. Jay handcuffed the suspect and you re holstered your gun.

“Baby, are you okay?” Hailey asked frantically, her hand gently cupping your face as she examined the cut on your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You said, releasing the breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding.

“Are you sure? You’re bleeding pretty badly.”

You winced when Hailey touched the wound.

“Shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine. Come on, let’s go.”

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

After apprehending the suspect, Hailey had forced you to be checked out by one of the paramedics who’d arrived to take care of one of the offenders that Kevin had shot. They’d cleaned and stitched the wound and told you to take some paracetamol for the pain.

Now you were currently watching Voight and Halstead take lead on interrogating the man who’d attacked you at the house.

The man was so vile that you had to force yourself to not jump through the two-way glass and smack him silly. He’d copped to the murder but wouldn’t admit to the rape, sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“She wanted it rough. She was a slut. I just gave her what she wanted.”

The words continued to ring in your ear as they were words that you, yourself, had once been told. Forcing the bile back down your throat, you watched as Voight moved to stand behind the man, his hands on his shoulders.

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you.” Voight said, the threat lingering behind his words.

Your hands clenched into fists as he continued to speak.

“I ain’t gonna apologise for banging that whore. She got what she wanted.”

You could feel your anger boiling until it threatened to consume you so you left the viewing room and briskly walked to your desk.

You grabbed your coat that was hung on the back of your chair and ran out of the precinct; ignoring how your girlfriend’s eyes bore in your body as you hurried out of the building.

She decided to let you go, knowing that you needed space for a few hours.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

When you got back to your apartment, you fell down onto your couch, picked up one of the throw pillows and screamed into it, your frustrations coming to a blow.

You went from screaming to crying out of anger and old pain until you felt a hand on your shoulder that startled you. You hadn’t even realised Hailey had used her key to enter your apartment.

“Oh, baby.” Hailey murmured when she saw how red your eyes were.

She placed a soft kiss on your cheek and went to your freezer to grab an ice pack. She wrapped it in a table cloth and gently rested it over your eyes, the coolness soothing your swollen eyes immediately.

You tried to take the ice pack away from her but she simply tsked at you; too tired to fight, you instead relished in her taking care of you.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, finally gathering the courage to speak.

“It’s been a rough couple of days, honey. No one blames you for your reaction.”

“That’s not why I’m so...so angry and why I’m like this.” Your voice barely louder than a whisper but Hailey still heard you.

“What do you mean?” The blonde asked, furrowing her brows in concern. But her eyes told you that she already knew what you meant and that made your heart hurt.

“I just-I. It was a long time ago, back in high school. I’m over it but cases like these just bring it all back up, you know?” You sighed, deciding to remain ambiguous whilst knowing full well she knew exactly what you were referring to.

“Oh, baby,” Hailey repeated as she wrapped her free arm around you and pulled you close.

“The guy ended up confessing not long after you left. Voight stuck him in the cage and he ended up having a change of heart.” Hailey told you as she placed soft kisses on your forehead.

Your derived snort was muffled as your head was buried in Hailey’s chest but she heard you and chuckled in response.

“You’re safe now, y/n. You’re safe with me.” Hailey whispered, breaking the peaceful silence that had filled the room.

Her words brought a sense of calm to you as you sighed contently in her arms.

Gently removing the ice pack from your eyes, she put it on the table before lifting your chin up with her finger, bringing you in for a deep, reassuring kiss.

“I-I’m glad you’re in my life, Hailey” You said, catching yourself before you said those three words. You weren’t ready to say them aloud just yet and you had a feeling that your girlfriend felt the same way.

The blonde smiled knowingly, kissing your lips once more before hugging you close to her as you both got comfortable on the large couch you were still on.

“I’m glad to have you in my life too.”

[elucien22904]

“....will the bird of fire come to sit in the trees and watch me?”

so in acowar elain had a vision of vassa watching her from the trees? if this isn’t foreshadowing....idk what is 👀

oh beautiful, u r so right!!!!! there r so many possibilities for where elains story might lead her... but i wholeheartedly believe it will have something to do w vassa n the band of exiles. she had multiple visions of vassa n koshwhatever in acowar n just bc the whole night court believes her powers r dormant in acosf doesnt meant they r. i think that her visions haven’t gone anywhere, she’s just afraid of them and the possibilities n instability they might bring. i mean the war completely traumatized her n her visions would most likely bring her into another conflict, so i think she wants to avoid that as much as possible. also i’m the biggest supporter of a vassa n elain friendship so pls sjm make that happen!!!!!

[mckennamayfairgoode]

Show Me the Foothold From Which I Can Climb [Part One]

Billie Dean Howard x Reader

Word Count: 6k

Request: i saw that your requests were open and i wanted to ask if you could do something for billie x reader, i LOVED your other one. -requested by anon

Warnings: Nothing yet, except minor character death, but it will get VERY heavy later on. (Future TW include: addiction, alcoholism, grief, depression, suicidal thoughts.)

A/N: I’ve spent too long working on this, so I decided to break it up into parts and post it instead of going back over the same scenes again and again. I’m not sure how many parts it will be. Probably three or four. A big thank you to @lucyintheskywithxanax​ as usual for being my plastic duck. You are The Best (no, really, you are). ❤

Song: Mountain at My Gates by FOALS. Also mentioned is I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) by The Proclaimers.

“Let’s take five minutes, okay? Sorry, everyone, they’re being stubborn today.” Billie smiles apologetically at the camera crew and the sight of it alone is enough to ease the mounting frustration in the room. Shoulders relax and tension melts away as if the atmosphere hadn’t been stifling just moments before. You call it ‘The Billie Effect.’

“Five minutes and we’ll try again,” the director agrees, giving the crew the go-ahead to take a break. There’s a spattering of pleased murmurs before everyone uses the opportunity to disperse around the house or go outside for some fresh air.

You adjust the camera on your shoulder and watch as the director walks up to Billie, his hands moving in animated gestures as he speaks. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you can imagine. The long day has not made him any more pleasant to be around. The smile on Billie’s lips is charming as she attempts to sooth his ruffled feathers. It only takes a moment, one hand resting on his shoulder to make the interaction seem more intimate than it is, before he turns away from her with a satisfied expression that makes something inside you tug unpleasantly. Once he turns away from her, Billie’s bright expression falls and her brows pinch together. 

You wait for him to walk away before easing up to her side, eyeing his back as the distance between you grows. “Was he giving you trouble?”

“He’s the director of the show, Y/N,” she points out and when you turn to her, you see that her smile has returned, beautiful and real and just for you. Your heart seems to breathe a sigh of relief.

You shrug the shoulder not currently occupied by a camera. “Yeah, well, without you there wouldn’t be a show,” you remind her, annoyance clear in your tone.

Billie laughs, low and husky. “Easy, tiger.” She wraps a hand around your bicep and runs her thumb along the edge of your shirt sleeve, barely dancing across your bare skin and shooting tingles up your spine.  “Everyone has their part to play, even him.”

You roll your eyes. “It’d be easier if he played his part somewhere else,” you mutter.

She grins, her big brown eyes dancing with amusement. You watch that familiar teasing glint bleed into them like wine stains into a beige carpet.  “Careful there, sweetheart. I’m starting to get the impression that you care about me.”

“And I’m starting to get the impression that you want me to care about you,” you retort playfully, watching the pleased smile morph her beautiful face into something soft and sweet. No one gets to see her like this. No one but you. That smile only lasts a second before her shoulders tense, just barely, just enough for you to notice. Her gaze flicks to the side. You’ve been around long enough to know that she’s feeling or seeing something you can’t. Your voice softens into a soothing tone. “Everything okay, pretty woman?” 

Billie startles, her grip tightening on your arm as she steadies herself before she flashes you a comforting smile. “Just fine, sweetheart.” She raises a slender hand and with one long acrylic nail extended, points to a spot in front of you both. “I can feel them right here, but they won’t come out.”

You both look at the space like your combined staring power will overwhelm the spirits and force them to reveal themselves. You don’t realize how close you’ve drifted to one another until you go to nudge her shoulder with your own. “They will,” you say. 

The darkness in her eyes eases at the conviction in your tone. She raises an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?” she asks. “We’ve been here for eight hours and have nothing to show for it.”

You resist the urge to move a wayward curl back behind her ear.  “You’re Billie Dean Howard. No one can resist you.”

Her smile turns sly. “Not even you?”

You turn to face her and feel your heart stutter. She’s already looking at you, her eyes warm and tender. “Not even me,” you finally say, your tone leaving no doubt that you are dead serious. The space between you is so small your noses would brush if you tipped forward. There’s a split second where you think you might kiss her. If you weren’t in the middle of a haunted house surrounded by your coworkers, if you were alone, and if she was looking at you like she is right now, maybe you would lean in and wipe that sly smile from her face with your lips. 

“You ready, Billie?” A masculine voice startles you both out of the moment causing you to jerk away and take a step back from each other. Billie is elegant and composed as usual, but your heart thunders in your chest like you are a storm splitting open the sky. You glance at her lips. Had she been leaning in too? 

Billie gives the director a nod before turning back to you. The intensity hasn’t left her eyes. You search them for a moment, find the sincerity there and anchor to it with your heart. A slow grin spreads across your face and you nod to the starting marker on the floor. “Come on, pretty woman. I promise to get your good angle.”

She scoffs, an amused expression lighting up her face. “You always get my good angle.”

“It’s not the only thing I plan on getting,” you flirt. “Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll prove it to you later.”

Billie laughs and tosses her wavy curls back. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweet thing,” she purrs, trailing her fingertips along your shoulders as she passes behind you.

You watch her go and know your expression must be lovestruck. Her presence always makes you feel weightless, a bird’s wayward feather in free fall. You think you might be able to float to the ceiling if you tried.

“You don’t really believe in this bullshit, do you?” a voice asks over your shoulder. You glance behind you to see your new assistant standing there looking perplexed and bored.

You raise an eyebrow, shifting the camera on your shoulder. “Why are you working here if you don’t believe it?”

He shrugs, following you to the mark and standing behind you. “Needed the experience,” he says simply.

You look into the viewfinder, adjusting the angle and shuffling until the sunlight streaming in from the living room window carves highlights into Billie’s cheekbones. She looks like a marble sculpture, like she belongs in the Louvre and not this haunted house in southern California, like she will be cemented in time, beautiful and endless. “Stick around,” you tell him. You pull back, look over the top of the camera, and lock eyes with Billie from across the room. “She’ll get them to show. She always does.” 

--

“Holy shit.” Your assistant's voice comes out in a breathy whisper, barely audible over the rattling sound of wheels rolling along the pavement.

You grin but resist the urge to snicker, because you’ve been there before. Skeptical and unsure, drawn to Billie of course, in awe of her smile, but not a believer in anything you couldn’t physically see. Then she had brought a derelict house to life with light that was not natural and shadows that liked to play pretend and you had watched her speak to someone whose presence you couldn’t even feel. That moment had changed you. 

Once upon a time, you had been so very small and fearful of the things you did not understand. Locked in your castle and warned away from the room at the end of the hall, you were protected, but sheltered, and your world had been so very small along with you. Until one day, you met a princess with golden hair and big brown eyes, who was kind and good and could see things you could not. 

The princess had taken you by the hand and led you to the end of the hall where she cracked the door open so that you could take a peek into the room you were not allowed in. Inside that room was a darkness and in that darkness was a glimmer of something bigger than you. You’d tugged at her hand to ward her away from the things you feared, but she stood tall and faced the darkness head on.

“Don’t be scared,” she’d said. The princess turned on a light - you think it came from within her - and the darkness shrank back, twisting into shadows that held out their spindly arms but could not reach you no matter how hard they tried. She looked at you and she smiled. “I won’t let them hurt you,” she promised and you believed her. You were a mountain and you were not afraid of anything. 

“You’ll get used to it,” you say, reaching the studio van and gesturing for him to help you load the equipment cases inside. 

He doesn’t look like he believes you. In fact, he looks like he might lose his lunch right there on the sidewalk. He wouldn’t be the first who couldn’t handle a glimpse of the other side. Ignoring it won’t make it go away, but you don’t say that. Instead, you latch the doors behind you, bid him goodnight, and meander down the sidewalk in the direction of your car. 

You watch the van’s tail lights disappear around the bend for only a moment before Billie’s soul inevitably calls to yours and you turn to look for her. She’s still standing on the front porch speaking with the homeowners. Not surprising. Billie hates to leave a job half finished. She nods her head empathetically, places a hand on the man’s arm, and says something charming no doubt. The couple laughs in response, just as you knew they would. No one can resist Billie Dean Howard. You lean back against the hood of your car, tuck your hands into your pockets, and wait.

It doesn’t take long. A few minutes later, she struts toward you like she’s on the red carpet and not a cracked, chalk-covered sidewalk in the middle of the suburbs. Your heart flounders in your chest like a fish on the deck of a boat and you wonder if you will always be this helpless when faced with her presence. “Hey, pretty woman.” You nod to the road behind you. “Wanna go for a drive?”

“And where would you be taking me on a Friday night?” Even across the distance, you can see the mischievousness in her expression. Billie loves to play games, and you are more than happy to indulge her.  

You reach in your pocket for your keys, absentmindedly playing with them as you grin. “Sorry, I can’t tell you that. Try again.”

Billie slows to a stop in front of you and tilts her head, eyeing you with a barely concealed smile. She tries to look stern but the glitter in her eyes betrays her. “What are you up to, Y/N?”  

You shrug. “I’m just keeping my promises,” you say simply. You reach over and open the passenger door for her with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits.”

--

“We’re here,” you announce, stepping out of the car and shutting the door behind you. 

Billie follows you at a leisurely pace, her head turning this way and that as she takes in your surroundings. She looks out of place up here, like a beautiful porcelain doll left in the middle of the woods. She is your diamond in the rough, your supernova in an empty sky. She burns. You wonder if it’s for you.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yes?” you respond, already knowing the question that will leave her lips.

“Why have you brought me to a cliff?”

You laugh and hold out your hand. “Do you trust me?” you ask, serious despite the light tone to your voice.

Billie does not hesitate. She sets her well manicured hand in yours, looks you in the eyes, and says, “Always.”

You have to swallow the lump in your throat to respond. “Good, because I was going to drive us both off the cliff, but there’s a concrete barrier in the way. We’ll have to go on foot and just jump off instead.”

She chuckles, low and throaty in just the way that makes your spine shiver. “Oh, darling. I’m going to need some incentives if you’re going to make me do all that in these shoes.”

You smirk and, mindful of her expensive heels, begin leading her down the smoothest path to the cliffside. “I’m sure I can come up with something.”

“I’m sure you can,” she purrs. Her hand in yours is soft and warm. You have held hands before. Large hands, small hands, the hands of those you love and hands from a distant past that you haven’t held for a very long time but still remember. There had been fingers wrapped around a thumb bigger than yours, hands clasped palm to palm as your brother helped you cross the street, pinkies interlocked to cement promises that would surpass time and age, fingertips pressed together beneath the table in the library with the girl who always laughed at your jokes. They were not like this. Holding this hand felt like coming home. Like you were meant to hold it. Like you have held it before.

As you near the aforementioned barrier, you turn to her with an impish smile. “Close your eyes,” you say.

Billie quirks an eyebrow. “I don’t usually do that on the first date.”

Your heart jumps, excited, happy, hopeful. “You let me bring you to a cliff on our first date?” you ask, playfully appalled.

Her smile grows fond. “It’s starting to grow on me.”

You bite your lip to quell the grin forming and tug at her hand. “Come on, the incentive lies in what will happen after you close them.”

“Well, how can I resist when you put it like that?” she teases, shutting her eyes and trusting you to guide her the rest of the way. You do, one careful step at a time, until you are near the edge. You look out over the view and feel your soul untangle itself from your heart, but it does not leave, not yet. It wants to be free, but it doesn’t want to go alone. 

You glance back at her, just a moment, maybe just to check that she’s real and not a vision that lives in your head. “You can open them now.”

She does. 

From a bluff overlooking the city, you watch as the sun sets, a jeweled crown that settles itself on the head of a skyscraper, radiant and eternal. Just for her. For the princess in your fairy tale. Almost as if you had willed it into existence all by yourself, lights start appearing in the city. Streetlamps, headlights, lights from offices and businesses and apartments; all of them blink on, one tiny speck at a time, until the whole of Los Angeles is alight with stars of their own making.

You don’t say anything and neither does she. You don’t need to. Billie’s fingers slide between your own, more intimate than any night you’ve spent in bed with another woman, and she squeezes. Just once. Your soul follows the invisible thread between your hearts and entangles itself with hers. They float away together like flower petals on a summer breeze.

You turn to her as she looks off into the horizon. Your eyes follow the shape of her face, from her forehead to the gentle slope of her nose, the curves of her mouth to the jut of her chin, and you wish you were tracing it with your fingertip instead. The setting sun casts a glow to her hair turning it different shades of molten gold and pink and you think you have never seen a more beautiful sight.

When she turns to face you, your eyes meet and your noses touch, much like they almost had earlier that day. Only this time there is nothing stopping you from closing the distance. Your breath hitches, your heart thunders, you are a feather in free fall, but you will not be afraid. Billie would never hurt you. Not your protector, your safety, your light.

You tangle your free hand into her hair and pull her close enough to brush your mouth against hers. It’s soft and tender, flowers grazing in a moonlit meadow, the gentle fluttering of a butterfly’s wings, the ocean lapping against the sand on a lazy, summer night. 

Her other hand reaches for your cheek, pulling you closer. You melt against her, breathe her in, think maybe this is what happiness is, maybe this is what eternity would feel like as long as you are with her. She sighs into your mouth like she has been waiting for this moment as long as you have. Your soul ignites as her nails graze your cheek, gentle and revering, like you are precious, like you are important, like you are the flower petal that may float away.  Maybe you fell in love with her then. Maybe you have been in love with her all this time.

--

“Hello?”

“Hi there, sweet thing. Where are you?” Your tired ears perk up at the sound of Billie’s voice, a smile lighting up your face as if it had been waiting just for her. 

“Hi, baby. I’m at the studio going over the footage from yesterday. Are you still at the interview?” You glance out of the nearby window. Night has already fallen and rain pelts against the glass like a swarm of angry bees. “It’s late.”

“It ran over by two hours,” she explains, her voice tight and clipped. 

You furrow your brows. “You don’t sound happy about that. Did it not go well?”

You hear the flick of a lighter. “If you call four hours of talking in circles ‘well’ then one would say it went perfectly fine.” She sighs. “Maybe I was just impatient.” 

“For what?”

“For you.” Your breath catches in your throat. You almost trip going down the stairs but manage to catch yourself in time. “Y/N?” 

“I’m here,” you manage to say. 

You can practically hear the smirk in her voice. “I’d like to see you tonight. What do you think?”

Heartbeat thudding in your ears, you finally reach the main lobby and come to a stop in front of the studio doors. Thunder rumbles through the building, shaking the glass and seeming to bounce off empty corners to echo back at you. You can barely see the street behind the sheets of rain. Maybe Hell has finally frozen over and Los Angeles is in the midst of a hurricane. “I’m thinking it’s the perfect night for a movie and takeout,” you say once you’ve gained control of your vocal chords.

Billie exhales. The sound of it wavers; she’s smiling. “My place is closer; is that alright with you?”

“Yes, of course,” you respond and hope you don’t sound too eager. Even though you are. Even though all you want is to see her look at you with that exasperated fondness that makes your heart melt. You want her to push you away, to laugh, to pull you right back in before she kisses you senseless. You just want to be home.

“Good,” she pauses and you can picture that fond expression in your head as clearly as if it were right in front of you. “See you soon, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip, trying and failing to soothe your expression into something calm and collected. “See you soon, pretty woman.” You don’t even bother putting on your jacket before dashing outside into the torrential downpour.

--

Traffic in Los Angeles is always congested at best no matter where you go. Cars, taxis, and buses stay bumper to bumper until you get further away from the city and closer to Billie’s suburbs. The rain makes it hard to see the road, let alone other cars, so you keep your hands tightly gripped around the wheel and maintain a steady pace as you follow the bright yellow shape of the taxi in front of you.

Even with the storm raging around you, you feel invincible, like nothing can touch you. Thunder rumbles in the distance, lightning cracks the air, and rain pelts the roof of your car like lead bullets, but you don’t hear any of it. Your mind is a paradise and it is so quiet. Your thumbs tap rhythmically against the steering wheel as you sing along to the song on the radio.

“But I would walk five hundred miles and I would walk five hundred more-”

You let the music sweep its way into your very being, washing over you and bringing with it a sense of peace. It makes you think of Billie and you realize you’re never not thinking of Billie, not anymore, not since she planted herself in your earth and lit up your night sky with a blazing sun. It feels like she has intertwined herself so closely to you, to your heart, to your soul, to your spirit, that you are no longer sure where she ends and you begin.

Captivated by her smile, enraptured by her kind heart, drawn to the passion that runs through her veins in lieu of blood, lovesick, lovestruck, love, love, love. Every little memory you make with her anew blinks on like a star in a sunset painted cityscape and you want to point your finger in its direction and tell her the tale of how a princess - with light embedded in her soul - saved you from your castle.

You’re thinking about her still when you notice the taxi peel off into the next lane. You don’t see him until it’s too late. 

A boy on a bike.

He darts in front of you out of nowhere or maybe he had been there the whole time and you just couldn’t see him in the rain. You see him now. Time slows down to a crawl - or maybe it never slowed at all; maybe you have been on the other side all along. 

He’s wearing a blue jacket. You notice it as your foot slams on the breaks, as you twist the steering wheel to the side in an attempt to swerve around him, as your car’s tires screech and slip against the rain-soaked street. It’s navy blue. You hear the sickening thump it makes when you hit him, feel the car jerk as you crash into a utility pole and the airbag knocks you in the face hard enough to make you black out for a second. Maybe two. You’re not sure. All you know is that when you finally summon the strength to open your eyes again, you’re assaulted by the smell of chemicals from the deployed airbag that burn your nostrils when you breathe. Your body aches from where you slammed against the seat belt on impact, your face, your chest - your heart, you think - but you can barely feel it. You are numb.

You blink rapidly to clear the dark spots from your vision, but all it does is serve to make you dizzy. Your head spins, feeling much like the inside of a snow globe after it’s been shaken up by an overeager child. With panic churning  inside you like a hurricane, you claw at your seat belt. Your fingers are shaking and clumsy and they don’t seem to work anymore and sobs well in your throat because this can’t be happening. It must be a dream, a nightmare, anything but what you know deep in your heart that it is: reality, the darkness whispers. A tendril of it slithers through the keyhole. It watches you. It is grinning.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter, or at least you think you do, before throwing open your door with one hand and scrabbling for the seat belt latch with the other. You manage to hit the release and go careening out of the car, landing on your hands and knees with a smack against the wet pavement. 

A man runs up to you, clutching your arm and pulling you up with large, gentle hands. Rain falls into your already blurry eyes, clinging to your eyelashes like tears as you look up at him and notice he has a full, greying beard. His mouth is moving but you can’t hear him over the ringing in your ears. 

You look away from him, searching, wild, crazed. Maybe you are crazy. Maybe you are a lunatic. A crowd has half formed on the side of the road, sporting parkas and umbrellas. Like anxious birds, they flutter around a slumped figure laying unnaturally still on the ground. It wears a navy blue jacket.

You push the man away, stumbling on shaking legs like a newborn foal as you attempt to cross the distance between you and the flock of people. Dread fills your bones, cements itself as a lump in your throat, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Someone on their cell phone tries to reach out to you, but you shove their hands aside. Rain soaks the thin cloth of your t-shirt causing the material to cling to you like a second skin. But you can’t feel it. You can’t feel anything. 

You fall to your knees before him, landing with a splash in the puddle beneath you. Your mouth moves rapidly as you speak words you can’t hear: a chant, a plea, a prayer. Wake up! Come on, kid, just wake up. I’m so sorry. Please, wake up. All my fault, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You beg - to gods, to monsters, to spirits and ghosts and the nature of things - but it falls on deaf ears as if you had never spoken at all. You feel for his pulse, for a sign, for anything. There is none. The darkness laughs. It is muffled behind the door but you can feel the vibrations of it running through your veins.

You hunch over yourself, fingers clutching at the wet pavement as you dig your nails into the asphalt, wanting to crawl inside your own body like a cocoon, wanting to feel something, anything. The ringing in your ears is so loud, so intense it fills your head and drowns out every other sound. The woman who has knelt down at your side and put her hand on your shoulder as she tries to speak to you. The thunder you can feel rumbling through the earth beneath your palms. The sirens from emergency vehicles you only know are there because the red and blue flashing lights cast a glow on his motionless form. You have never known another sound. It rings and rings and rings. It is endless.

You want to close your eyes. You want to block it all out, pretend that you’re still in your car, that you’re almost to Billie’s suburbs, and any minute now, she will greet you at the door. Well, would you look at that, she’d say. I don’t remember ordering dessert. Her eyes would glimmer and she would smile, beautiful, radiant, the light inside of her too bright for her to do anything but shine.

Billie- Your mind latches onto her like she is your buoy in the middle of the sea, and just the thought of her will keep you afloat even as the darkness uses its spindly arms to pull you under the surface. You reach for the invisible thread that binds your hearts together and, insistently, desperately, you tug. I’m so sorry, Billie. You force your eyes open. You force yourself to look at him. At the boy you did not see.

His bike lays in the middle of the road, bent and misshapen. The back wheel is still spinning.

From your open car door comes the notes of a familiar song. It echoes through the night, beneath the steady beat of the rain and the high, rumbling noise of thunder, and it is not beautiful anymore. It is haunting.

“Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles-”

You can’t feel anything.

“-to fall down at your door.”

--

“Will sh- b- okay?”

“Mil- conc-ssi-n, sh- in shock-”

“Try -alking t- he-”

Voices echo around you, so muffled and distorted that you can’t understand what they’re saying. They sound like they’re coming from very far away and the effort it would take to listen far outweighs the energy you have. You feel drained, like you’re sitting in the bottom of a fish bowl and the words bounce off the water to somewhere else. Not to you.

Not until you hear her.

“Look at me, Y/N.” Hands cup your face in a gentle hold, fingers tenderly stroking the skin of your cheekbones. The voice is so familiar. It cuts through the haze fogging your mind and you reach out as if to embrace it, to let it crawl inside your heart and warm you from the inside out. “Come on, sweetheart. Look at me.” 

You blink. Billie? Your eyelashes flutter as the world gradually comes into focus, no longer a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. With it, comes an angel. An angel with sunset hair and glimmering eyes and a kind smile. “Pretty woman?” you ask, and you wonder what happened to make your voice sound so raw and broken.

“There’s my girl,” she murmurs, ducking her head to meet your eyes. “Focus on me, baby.” You try to, holding her gaze like you would rather drown in it than face the demon you can feel hovering over your shoulder. She has a furrow between her brows, the one she has only when she’s truly upset. Why is she so sad? Why are you?

“Billie, I’m so sorry,” you whisper, but you can’t remember why you’re sorry. Only that you should be. Only that your heart aches, you smell like chemicals, and it feels like you just went a round with a boxer and lost. But it’s all a blur and you can’t remember why.

Billie reaches up and brushes your hair back away from your face. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay.” Her smile is forced and the implication behind it only stirs the panic forming inside you until it spins so fast that it feels like you’re standing in the eye of a hurricane. 

“Ma’am, we need to speak with her,” a voice speaks suddenly from the doorway and you snap out of your trance, out of the safety of Billie’s gaze, and find yourself in a hospital room, in a hospital bed with an IV in your arm. The walls are a stark white that hurts your eyes to look at. It’s bare and sterile and impersonal; it feels like you just woke up in a padded cell where you are gradually losing your mind.

Billie looks over her shoulder; you follow her gaze and feel your stomach drop unpleasantly. A police officer stands just inside the door. You become suddenly aware of a bone deep chill pervading your entire body. There’s a blanket pulled up around your shoulders but you can’t seem to stop shaking. Why can’t you stop shaking? 

“No,  you don’t,” Billie says, the words tense as they leave her lips. The edges are sharp and you know if you were to reach out, they would cut you just as easily as a blade. You have never heard her sound like that before. “She’s still in shock. She won’t be able to tell you anything you haven’t already figured out from the cameras.” Your mind falters. The hurricane intensifies, becoming a swirling mass of wind and rain. It threatens to swallow you whole.

The officer steps into the room and raises his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s just procedure, Ms. Howard.”

Billie frowns, standing up and sliding in front of you as if to shield you from him. “I don’t give a damn. You could drag the Dalai Lama down here for all I care. I’m not letting you speak to her until she knows what’s going on.”

“Well, I’m not the Dalai Lama, I’m an officer of the law and if she’s responsive, I need to take her statement,” he insists, not unkindly. He looks over Billie’s shoulder at you, his expression apprehensive and sorrowful. Something is very, very wrong. You can feel it in your bones. The hurricane lashes out at you, angry and scared. You wonder if the hurricane is you.

Their argument drifts to the background as flashing lights from the window capture your attention. Blue and red. Familiar. The colors start to blur as rain hits the glass pane and you can only watch, mesmerized, as one droplet becomes two and three and then thunder - it rumbles so loudly it startles you and your heart leaps, pounds, races in your chest - and, suddenly, as if it had been this way all along, the hurricane is not inside of you anymore. It is all around you, surrounding you, and you are stuck within, caged like a bird, trapped like a ghost in a haunted house, you are a lunatic in a padded white cell. 

And then you remember.

Rain. So much rain. Sheets of it that slick the pavement and thunder that shakes the earth. But you are going to Billie’s, where you are warm, where you are safe, and a little rain is worth it to see the look on her face when she opens the door and sees you standing on the other side. Well, would you look at that, she’d say. I don’t remember ordering dessert. And she would smile and she would shine and you would walk among the clouds like a god. 

Something inside you stirs, something troubled, something bigger than you. An exiled giant chained to the mountain pass, a forgotten creature locked in the depths of Hell, the darkness behind the door. For the first time since meeting Billie, you feel afraid.

A taxi, bright yellow, the color of sunflowers and sunshine and that knitted sweater Billie likes to wear in the summer. It veers off; you watch it float away, along the yellow brick road, maybe into the sky to Neverland, down the rabbit hole, it goes and goes and goes. And then a boy and a navy blue jacket and a bike with a misshapen wheel that never stopped turning.

The darkness pushes at the locked door, snaking it’s spindly arms along the edge, seeking for a way out, searching for a weakness. You can feel its eyes on you, watching you through the keyhole. 

A mistake, you didn’t see him, you tried to stop, to swerve, you tried to do anything else but what you did, it’s your fault and you know it, you did this. The road was so wet, you could feel it beneath your hands, flashing lights illuminate his body, blue and red, someone touches your shoulder but you can’t feel it, wake up, wake up, unnaturally still, a song, your ears ring, it’s endless, still, so still, blue and red, it casts a glow to his face, but I would walk five hundred miles and I would walk- You dig your nails into the pavement. You can’t feel anything. 

You did this. It’s your fault. It’s all your fault.

You can feel it the moment the lock shatters and the door swings open. It feels inevitable, like you have been staring into the abyss this whole time, and it has finally decided to swallow you whole. The darkness slithers out and you watch it with bated breath. You have never known a fear this great, the moment you stared into the darkness and didn’t have your light. 

Your soul calls for Billie, screams out her name, begs and pleads for her to protect you like she always said she would. You reach out for the invisible thread tethered between you and you tug and tug and tug but your hands are slippery and you can’t hold on. Your fingers brush her sleeve. 

The darkness seems to smile. You can feel its amusement, its maliciousness, its cruelty. You are frozen in place as it moves towards you, ensnared like a rabbit in a trap, you are a lunatic in a padded cell. It’s spindly arms reach out. I’m so sorry, Billie. It embraces you like an old friend.  

You let it.

[lisinfleur]

Magic Fingers

The request:

Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Modern Age AU, requested by anon for 5VW Ivar II, posted for HTGI Words | 1152 ⁑ Warnings: Slightly erotic content.

We met in that library some weeks ago. I was searching for some old books, one fell from my pile, and she helped me pick it up.

Pleasurable conversations came after that. And what was supposed to be a single visit to the library became something usual for me.

I would go there to see her under the excuse that my niece could enjoy her voluntary work as a storyteller at the library. Every Sunday, I would take Maya with me to give Hvitserk and his wife some time and have a good time at the library with Y/N.

I discovered many things about her. But that Sunday in specific, Maya's interest in her beautifully braided hair ended up telling me one detail more about her life.

"Yes, little one, I do it by myself. I could do it for you too! Do you want to pass by the salon to find me?"

I paid Maia an ice cream that afternoon. She earned me Y/N's visit card and one more address where I could find excuses to see her.  

The next Monday we were together at the salon. Maya and her long honey-colored hair, like my brother's.

And me, with that bad-looking man bun.

Y/N received us with a big smile. She spent some good time playing with Maya while braiding her hair beautifully. When she finished, Maya's eyes were flickering.

"Look, uncle Ivar! I'm a Viking princess!!" she said, playing the way she was used to playing with my father.

I giggled.

"Grandpa will love it. Wanna pass by for him to see?" I asked, making her day even better.

It surprised me when Y/N didn't want to accept any payment for that service.

"I'm already paid, Ivar," she said, with a smile I wasn't really able to translate.

But I liked to see on her face.

However, I didn't think it was fair. After that long and beautiful job she made for Maya, I thought it would be, at least, a good chance to offer her a ride home and make things right. So, I went back to the salon after leaving Maya home, entering when Y/N was already preparing to leave.

She was alone in the place whose signal was already showing a luminous "Closed" at her door. So, when I entered, she turned herself ready to tell the late client there wasn't time for a new service anymore.

But she saw me. And that smile was back on her lips, for my pleasure.

"Did you come to allow me to take care of these beautiful strands you hide in this bun, Ivar?"

I giggled.

"In fact, I was about to offer you a ride home," I answered, looking at her. "I thought you were closed."

"I always have time for interesting clients."

It was my turn to smile.

I was more and more interested in that woman, and she was showing more and more it was something mutual.

"Will you make me look like a Viking prince too?" I joked with Maya's games when she took off my coat and released my hair showing me where to sit.

"The look would fit well," she answered, making me giggle. "Let me see what I can do..."

The last words I've heard before a wonderful moment started in my life.

I never liked anyone but my mother braiding or messing with my hair. But Y/N surpassed my expectations. Her fingers were soft and gentle, caressing my scalp while washing my hair, making me feel the usual headache I had almost constantly to just disappear.

When she finished washing my hair, I was so relaxed that my eyes took a while to get used to the light once again.

She smiled when I got up, rubbing them.

"Sleepy?" she asked, walking me to the chair next to her mirror.

"No... But I have to admit I'm relaxed," I answered.

"Well, Mr. Viking Prince," she joked. "I didn't even start..."

From grunts of pleasure to sleeping on her chair, the whole process of her gentle fingers sliding through my strands, braiding them, was wonderful. I'd paid people for relaxing programs that didn't achieve the miracles her hands did in a pair of hours I just didn't want to see coming to an end.

But at some point, she tied the last strand and smiled.

"It's done. Take a look!"

I almost asked her to undo everything just to have her fingers running through my hair some more time. But my eyes had never seen my image so fierce and pleasurable before.

I touched the braids, surprised. Not noticing the apprehension in her face behind me.

"Did you like it?" she asked, sounding insecure.

But I smiled.

"I don't think I ever looked so good."

Her face changed into a smile once again.

"I have to agree."

There was that smile one more time. And this time, I didn't hold myself back, touching her chin, caressing it.

"You're pretty talented," I said, keeping the gentle caress since she leaned into it.

"Only when I'm inspired," she answered.

"Oh, so I inspire you?" I asked, smiling.

"Yes," she said, coming closer.

"Hn... And what more do I make you feel," I said, bringing her closer.

Foreseeing her answer when she leaned closer to me.

Her lips almost touched mine.

"You make me want to kiss your lips..."

A woman who knew what she wanted.

She got me even more interested.

"What are you waiting for?" I asked, covering the distance to catch her lips into a slow kiss, tasting the mouth I had been admiring for a while.

My hands touched her waist, and she came closer, straddling my lap on her chair, deepening the kiss, making it warmer.

My hands slid through her back, and I felt hers gently entangled on the braids she'd maid, using it to slightly pull my head back, getting a low growl on the back of my throat that made her giggle against my lips.

"Quite a Viking prince, isn't he?" She smiled.

"One that's interested in more than a single raid for the treasures you may have hidden," I said.

Using the joke to show her I wanted that casual idea we were pushing forward there. But I wanted it to be more than just a casual idea.

Her smile gained that satisfied tone once again, and she pecked my lips one more time before speaking.

"Tonight, I accept that ride home you offered me earlier. Tomorrow morning we'll see where this raid of yours will go, Viking prince."

Tomorrow morning.

It was my time to open a malicious smile.

Father would miss me in the company the next morning, but I turned off my cellphone as we left her saloon, going into my car.

That would be a time trip.

And Viking Princes didn't have alarms to wake them up...

Do you like my work? Support me!

Tagged ones:

|| @bluearchersstuff || @ivarswickedqueen || @akamaiden || @bang-kim-bap || @cris101071 || @elysias-temple || @alicedopey || @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla || @lol-haha-joke || @readsalot73 || @rekdreams247 || @naaladareia​ || @laketaj24​ || @therealcalicali​ || @grungyblonde​ || @arses21434 || @honestsycrets​ || @2thequietone4 || @blackspiritshake​ || @vikingsbifrost​ || @wallabieswisher || @cyarikashakira​ || @chinduda​ || @isthat-tyra98​ || @xinyourdreamsx​ || @thiahilmarsdottir​ || @queenbeeta​ || @winchesterwife27​ || @gold-dragon-slayer​ || @mzliterarydreamer​ || @youbloodymadgenius​ || @marvelouuse​ || @tgrrose​ || @lif3snotouttogetyou​ || @lordsexmachine​ || @deathbyarabbit​ || @ietss​ || @thorins-queen-of-erebor​ || @didiintheblog​ || @h-e-a-v-y-l-e-a-t-h-e-r || @heavenly1927​ || @alexhandersenx​ || @alexisshoto​ || @letsloveimagines​ || @astrape-the-weatherwitch​ || @destynelseclipsa​ || @charming-merlin​ || @violetidk​ || @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ || @ghvsts​ || @littlemoonchildbear​ ||

Want to be tagged? Ask me!

[ashdumpsterpile]

I know you talk abou st*cky in the interracial ships stuff, but can we talk about st*ny? Iron husbands is literally right there, but I also always sees Rhodey as Tonys moral support only. And ik Tony is very shippable with most characters, but the fact his ship is Rhodey is one of the lowest ships in ao3 (ironstrange, winteriron and god forbid stark*r all had more fics in ao3).. It's pretty telling this side also has racism problems...

I'll go ahead and answer this here, but letting y'all know that I do have a marvel sideblog if you want to hit me up there (@themarvelarchives).

Hey, I'm going to ramble for a good minute.

So after I posted my very incoherent, controversial take on St*cky vs SamBucky, there were a ton of ppl who came onto anon saying that St*cky shippers were racist. I think I only answered a few, but y'all were pretty insistent on it. I personally have not observed that St*cky shippers are so I'm not calling anyone out on that side of the fandom for that.

I also did not call out anyone on this side of the fandom bc that's not what my meta was about. I think I mentioned maybe once or twice in the whole post that there was underlying racist in the fandom, but since you asked, we can talk about it here.

Covert Bigotry In Fandom Spaces.

To understand what's going on in the MCU, we have to first look at what I call "woke-queer" fandom.

So "Woke-Queer" Spaces is the phenomenon where certain fandom members like to call ppl out on their bigotry, while covertly harboring their own queerphobia/racism/etc. An example of this that we're all familiar with is TERFS and how they like to claim that they are progressive and woke, while also claiming that trans women are fake and trans men are sexist.

How this translates to fandom, however, is the hypocrisy that is cancellation and callout culture.

For example, Supernatural in particular is a fandom that likes to call out the writers on their homophobia and racism, and yet, somehow, the fandom is chalk full of homophobia and racism. If you want to read more about this, here is a truly excellent article from the perspective of a queer woman of color.

Moving on, I've also talked in a previous meta post, on the internalized acephobia that exploded in 2019 after Good Omens was released. Rather than reiterate everything I said in that post, I'll just leave it at this: the controversy in the Good Omens fandom can be summed up by the fact that queer audiences are claiming that Ineffable Husbands is the wrong kind of queer. The hypocrisy oozes off the screen, doesn't it?

A final way this viably translates to fandom, is in how the Doctor Who fandom evolved over time.

So Steven Moffat takes over as head writer and showrunner in 2010. It's a new series, a new Doctor, a new Tardis, and new branding. He steps up the action, changes the color grating, and raises the stakes. Women are sexier, the Doctor is smarter (and more of an asshole, but that's another meta post), and every companion comes with their own impossible mystery that makes them Special™.

Series 5-10 got tons of woke points for having lesbian characters, an episode where the Doctor is homoerotic with James Corden, and an underlying trans narrative with the Master's reincarnation. What a lot of people forget, however, is that his series was incredibly sexiest, incredibly lesbian/biphobic, and basically turned the Doctor into everyone's fantasy sex-object.

This, unfortunately, brought out the worst of the fandom. There was RTD Era vs Moffat Era wars exploding in certain corners, TenxRose shippers vs ElevenxRiver shippers.

What does this have to do with covert racism in fandom cultures though?

Hnnngng ok, so back in RTD era's we get Martha Jones, the Actual Best Companion On The Entire Show. Except for the fact, of course, that she is written to be in love with the doctor. She's a brilliant character--smart, sassy, flawed, funny, flirtatious--and her entire plotline is reduced down to a school-girl crush on a white man.

She doesn't do well with fans, they scrap her after one season.

We move on to Donna Noble (The Other Actual Best Companion On The Entire Show) and RTD's era ends with them scraping her too and regenerating David Tennant's Doctor.

It will be five more series (not seasons, SERIES) until Doctor Who will have another black companion--who gets extra points for being gay--only to fall victim to "bury your gays" at the end of the season (but not really bc no one stays dead on Doctor Who).

The fandom's reception of Martha Jones was historically bad. The comparisons to her predecessor, Rose Tyler, were rampant and everyone was finding a reason to hate her.

The fandom's reception to Bill Potts was also historically bad, as everyone was screaming that she was being written for more "woke points" and that they wanted Clara back.

Fandom has a historically bad reputation of being problematic and, I would argue, the majority of it has to do with these toxic undertones of bigotry that slip under the radar. "Woke-queer" spaces, as I call them, are these instances above where spaces that claim to be inclusive of gender/orientation/race are covertly bigoted.

Marvel and Cancelling

Now is an excellent time to talk about the MCU.

Anthony Mackie (Sam Wilson) has recently come under a lot of criticism from fandom members for shutting down shipper speculation.

"The idea of two guys being friends and loving each other in 2021 is a problem because of the exploitation of homosexuality. [...] something as pure and beautiful as homosexuality has been exploited by people who are trying to rationalize themselves."

I can't find the rest of the quote, but Mackie goes on further to say that it was important to him to portray "a sensitive, masculine figure" without insinuating that there was romance involved.

Woke culture lost it's shit. Everyone was suddenly claiming that Mackie was calling them exploitative for shipping a gay ship as a queer audience, which could not have been further from the case.

Mackie actually makes some very excellent points in that sensitivity is not gay/queer. Woke culture loves to rag on Toxic Masculinity, but the minute someone plays a character who is loving and sensitive with no queer narrative in mind, they are immediately canceled.

What Am I On About

Okay, let's actually address what your ask was about, Nonnie. You pointed out--rather truthfully--that it is unfair to call-out racism on one side of the fandom, while ignoring it on the other side.

Well, I've gone back through my St*cky vs. SamBucky analysis (which is incoherent at best, I apologize for that) and I see maybe once instance where I called out fandom members for being racist. Here's what I had to say about racism:

"[...] Iron Husbands is a rarepair, probably because it’s an interracial ship."

"[there is] nothing wrong with shipping two white men, but it does become a problem when you ignore/bash POC/interracial ships to the determinant of your own white ship."

And then there was the post you brought up where I addressed interracial ships in the fandom. That one is probably more relevant to this topic, to be honest, as I actually addressed fandom racism there. I assume that your reason for bringing up Stony is because it's a ship that is more relevant to my side of the fandom, HOWEVER, the reason I highlighted Stucky instead was because I was comparing the fact that they've both been around the same amount of time and are relationships that feature the protagonist and their best friend.

You brought up St*ny in the ask, however, so I'm going to talk about St*ny for a minute.

As someone who never has nor will ship St*ny, it never even occurred to me that some of the problem behind the Iron Husbands tag being so small is because everyone ships the white, boring ship. You brought up a very valid point, but because I was never in that part of the fandom, I can't really speak to any possible underlying racism there, besides what I've already said above.

I would be interested in hearing a St*ony shipper or ex-St*ony shippers thought on this, but sadly I don't know any. If you have any more thoughts regarding this, Nonnie, pls drop back into my inbox.

You do make some excellent points in this ask though, and I would like to talk about racism on my side of the fandom.

So back to Mackie and his Twitter cancellation. Notice that Disney made him address the rumors and not his co-star, Sebastian Stan. Anthony Mackie is put on blast and made to answer fan demands and receives backlash, while Sebastian Stan gets to fly under the rader. This is not, by the way, a criticism of Stan, but instead of the blatant racism Disney has been displaying over the past few years.

How this ties in with the rest of my post has to do with my "woke-queer" spaces bit. The outcry across the MCU fandom over Mackie was swift and unforgiving. He was cancelled on charges of homophobia and bigotry--all the while these same fans turn a blind eye to any queer interpretation of other interracial ships and discourse in their own fandom.

The racism that I'm speaking about, of course, is an almost passive racism. Of course if you don't ship a specific ship for reasons other than their race, it's perfectly fine. It's okay not to ship Iron Husbands or SamBucky or any other interracial fandom ships. However, the distinct lack of shippers in the fandom IS telling because there are people who would ship that exact ship if not for the fact that one of men is black.

I don't have much more to say about this except to thank you for bringing it up and for listening to my long rambling post.

(Feel free to bug me about Tony Stark, MCU ships, MCU Meta and anything you want to talk me about on this blog and @themarvelarchives.)

[binniesthighs]

hellooo i have read your Han fic and it's so gooooooood you really know how to portray the one and only Han Jisung omgggg. can i ask for a seventeen smut? if it's okay with you. since I'm into Jeonghan these days i really want to know how will Jeonghan react if you two arw bffs since high school then one day things changed, both of you began being so touchy and flirty then he challenges you if you can resist him omgggg like he is so cocky and confident aaaaaah BYE-

aweee thank you so much! I love love love writing for the one and only Han Jisung!! thank you so much for your patience as well anon I’m soooo sorry that this took me an age to get out, but I hope that ya like the product hehe 💕

yjh was here | reader x jeonghan |

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x yoon jeonghan

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: friends to lovers, bit of a comfort fic, bestfriend!jeonghan, cockyandflirty!jeonghan as we love him, lowkey mutual pining, mingyu, wonwoo, soonyoung side characters, coworkers au, mentions of food and mild food dares, mentions of alcohol+getting drunk, mentions of divorce (past), marking, reach-around teasing (r receiving), fluffy unprotected sex, body praising, spicy truth or dare, cuddles

Word count: 4.4k

Yoon Jeonghan had a habit. It wasn’t the worst of habits, but it was the kind that would clutter up your life. Often, you would wonder why he would do it, and why he hadn’t stopped: not even after you had mentioned it so many times.

It had started in high school. High school, that eternity away now. Luckily, your past was riddled with memories of him, and all of the little things that you had shared together; lunches, late nights studying, throwing littler paper wads at eachother from across the room. He would pull at the tie around your neck that was a part of the school uniform just to get a rise out of you. Jeonghan would nap during class, and you would be the one to wake him up with the flick of your finger. On cold walks to school, he would lend you his scarf, and on hot summer nights you’d stay out searching for snacks until sleep drew your eyes down, and he’d let you lean on him the whole walk home.

yjh was here

He wrote it on the first exam you had ever failed in your whole life.

Conversely, he had gotten nearly a perfect score. He was annoyingly good at everything he did. That, or he was just really good at cheating his way through things. When you thought about it, it was likely the latter that was more accurate.

At first you thought it was a joke. It was as if he was taunting you for failing miserably at mathematics II. You were never good at math anyway.

The second time he wrote it was when you had fallen asleep in class. It wasn’t a common occurrence. He’d call you a baby for being scared to fall asleep during class for fear of being startled awake by the teacher. However, this was the week that had been the longest for you: the week that everything fell apart.

Even into your mid twenties, your mother still would never tell you why your father had left that week and you never saw it fit to prod more.

He had written it on a scrap piece of paper after getting you a strawberry milk and leaving it for you on your desk.

yjh was here

Since then, he had taken the opportunity to write it everywhere he could manage. Suddenly his little scribbles filled up the margins of your notebooks; on post-it notes--he’d even etch it onto the skin on your arm in soft blue pen ink. Later, when the two of you had gone on to college, he would sneak into your dorm to write it everywhere he could find. No matter how many times you would erase it from your little whiteboard by your desk, he’d always manage to write it over, noticing immediately that it was gone.

Today, you had noticed that he had slipped it into your legal folder, among other more boring and business-y things and you had no idea how it had gotten there. It must have been sometime the day before, as he had written it on a napkin from the catering company.

yjh was here.

In all the many years that he had followed you from place to place, you must have amassed hundreds of his little notes. You kept the ones that he would give you at work tucked away in a desk, often forgetting that they were kept there until you would stumble upon them, tugging a little smile at your face. The rest of them you kept at home in a little box in your closet, even deeper away, never really knowing why. The act of simply having them was satisfaction enough, in fact, you never really minded a little clutter.

☆彡

With eyes drooping, you scratched away on your yellow note pad, writing a string of nonsense words that sounded important from the presentation. The red setting setting sun reminded you that it was your least favorite time of day: the time where the last work hour of the day would appear to stretch into twenty. Under the table your scratchy cotton work-pants felt even more scratchy than usual. Somewhere above you, the penetrating white fluorescents buzzed like flies.

With a little tap on your shoulder, Yoon Jeonghan was sitting next to you as he always was. Compared to him, you felt as if you looked like an utter mess. Just as he was annoyingly good at everything, there was never a day that he came into work looking less than perfection. Today it was a tweed two piece with a pressed shirt underneath as well as a navy tie adorning his beautifully slender neck. Around his face befell his deeply dark strands of hair which pricked the edges of his rounded wire glasses.

“This is so boring.” He had mouthed to you, adding a pout to the end of his sentence.

You formed the sound on your lips, “Shhhhh”

“I’m just saying!”

“Pay attention.”

You turned your head back to pretend to care about what your boss had to say. Every fifteen seconds or so you would nod your head to make it appear as if you were diffusing the information he was giving out.

Another tap on your shoulder and Jeonghan displayed his pen to you to draw your attention to the margin of your quarterly report print out.

you look really beautiful today, he had written

“Stop it!” You accidentally hissed, garnering the attention of your nosy and equally bored coworker sitting across from you.

This time you mouthed out the words, “No I don’t.”

“~yessss~” Jeonghan curled out his words with his tiny creeping smile

Your knee bumped into his under the ginormous desk.

“Pay attention, ‘Han.”

“Is there something you would like to add L/n?” Your supervisor’s voice cracked in the silence of the room.

“N-no sir.” your head bowed in repentance.

He elder man tsked in a little sound with his teeth. “I know that we’re getting to the end of the day folks, but let’s just get through this all so we can get home...”

Jeonghan’s tweed pants made a little screeching sound against the fabric of yours when you bumped him again under the guise of the desk.

“Screw you.”

Your friend met your remark with a wink, biting the cap of his pen while his eyes wandered down to show you another little message:

yjh was here

and I’m excited for tonight

☆彡

Wednesdays were customary somaek nights where each of you and your coworkers would gather in your cruelly tiny apartment with their own separate dishes for all to share and forget about the troubles of the midweek. As the year was winding down, it was these nights that would get you through the week. With the bodies of the five of you in your tiny living room cramped around your low-set table, you had almost forgotten that the heating in there barely worked.

With each of your coworkers entrance, they would bring in the smell of autumn with them, and the chill of the air outside. On each of their long coats, bits of leaves would cling to the edges of the fabric. Each Wednesday there would be a royal mess to clean up after, but it was Jeonghan who would often stay after to help you. The two of you would end up in your cruelly tiny kitchen, throwing soap bubbles at each other’s faces drunkenly with socks sliding all over the wooden floors. Jeonghan would write another note to stick on your refrigerator, then he would take you by the hands to twirl you around to some unbearably cheesy sounding OST.  

Perhaps it was the way that your head would get fuzzy from the soju and beer, but you loved the way that he would twirl you; it was almost like a waking dream.

“Nobody worry! Nobody! Worry!” Soonyoung burst through your door, case of beer in hand. “I’m not late, I’m actually early! Don’t you know that it’s trendy to appear an hour into the party?” When Soonyoung spoke, he had a habit of speaking with his whole chest.

“Took you long enough,” Mingyu whined, popping in another strip of galbi.

“You don’t enjoy our presence, ‘Gyu?” Wonwoo’s mouth upturned into a teasing grin.

“N-no,” The biggest man babbled, “It’s just that...Wednesdays are somaek evenings.”

“--Then I am here to help you out my friend.” Soonyoung plopped himself right down on the floor with the poof of his blond hair popping from his beanie. “Ahhhh this all looks so delicious.”

“You better pay me back.” You griped while serving him a plate of the assortment.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love you, Y/n?”

“Nearly every time I do something for you? You still owe me from the last time we went to karaoke.

“--And for covering for your ass last week...some hangover that was, huh?” Jeonghan scooched over his leftover rice to you.

Soonyoung scoffed while twirling his bottle of soju in the air, the admiring the little tornado swirling inside. “-Was worth it though. We always have fun don’t we?” In his affection, he threw his arms around you and Wonwoo beside him.

“-Food’s gonna get cold.” Wonwoo poked his finger in the general direction.

With his full glass raised in the air after a minute of preparation, Soonyoung lead you all in a toast, cheeks already rosy. The second that your glasses collided, liquid came downpouring to the table, but none of you seemed to mind. Before you could bring your drink to your lips, you caught yourself having a moments pause, watching all of your friends before you. If you could have, you wished you could fold up little moments like these as well to put in your drawer to see when you would feel down.

Jeonghan caught your wistful sigh, sending you a wink. In many ways, you knew he must have known your thoughts.

Under the table, his hand brushed up to your crossed knee, letting his hand linger. He let his hand rest there for a moment, as if he was soaking up your essence in the moment. He had never done it before, but his thumb gently rubbed at your knee, and it felt like a waking dream.

☆彡

The night had ticked on, and you and grown more tired than you had expected by pass of the clock hand. As the night would normally progress, drinks would be had, then each of you would take turns updating the others on what you had been doing or working on. All of you would gather advice or support if needed. There had even been times when you would even provide a shoulder for one to cry on, although that didn’t happen most times.

Others, like today, the five of you would simply sit and enjoy each other’s presence with the window slightly cracked open to let the autumnal air cool your burning bodies. Jokes would be cracked every once and a while until yawns would escape your mouths. By then, another joke would be made about how you were all getting to old to be staying up that late.

Jeonghan played with your hair as you had leaned into him, swirling your final glass of soju in your wrist. While you were hot yourself, the heat from his body was still calming, and the way that his chest would rise and fall was a bit like a lullaby.

“I’m falling asleep, we should head out,” Mingyu clapped Wonwoo by the back.

“Another one for the books.” Soonyoung sighed, then rose up with a stretch of his arms, wrinkling up his white button up and loose tie.

“Sweet dreams everyone.” You shift off of your best friend, shuddering a little at the lack of contact, to close the door after them.

“I’m looking forward to next Wednesday!” Soonyoung beams with a little salute, then bows before shuffling away.

“What time is it?” You yawn out the words, rubbing your eyes.

“Too late. We still need to go in tomorrow, remember?”

Dirty dishes clink in your hands as you bring them to your sink. “We really should start doing this on Fridays.”

“I don’t wanna start cleaning just yet, can we stay here for a while?” Jeonghan spreads his arms out, beckoning you to fall back into him. You laugh a little at the motion.

“Why so touchy? We haven’t done this in so many years...I can’t remember the last time...”

You oblige him, nuzzling right up to his chest once more. He smells a bit of the somaek, but mostly of his usual scent: that cheap cologne that you had bought him about a year ago. You had mostly gotten it as a gag gift, but he had worn it every day since.

“Must have been in high school.” His words are long and breathy.

“How come we stopped?”

Jeonghan takes a minute to answer you, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep. Instead, he raises a hand to rub at your arm lightly, just as he had done with your knee.

“Dunno. We got older?”

“What does getting older have to do with it?”

You watch in the silence as his thumb continues to rub over the fabric of your long-sleeved button down.

“--Do you want to play a game?” Jeonghan says at last.

“A game? What do you mean?”

“For fun. I’m trying to find something to do so we don’t have to do the dishes.”

“Okay,” You perk up slightly, still not removing yourself from his encircled arms. “What kind of game?”

“Truth or dare?”

“Psh what are we, back in high school?”

“Seeing what we are doing right now, wouldn’t you say so?” The words escape Jeonghan’s mouth with a growing grin.

You ruffled to top of his head, messing up his perfectly primped hair. “...Fineeee. You going first or me?”

“I’ll go. Truth.” Jeonghan pulled you back into him, settling your back flush with his chest.

“Okay, truth: did you really mean it when you said that you liked Minji’s power suit? I know you thought it looked tacky.”

Jeonghan’s breathy laugh miffed up your hair. “I’ll say anything if it keeps me in the supervisor’s good graces.”

“HA. I knew it.”

“Which do you pick?”

“Mmmm-truth.”

“Not dare? You’re no fun.”

“I said truth!!!”

“Fine, fine.” His slender arms squeezed at your body to situate you better in between his legs. “When was the last time that you brought someone over to your place?”

“Yo-you mean like “brought someone” over?”

“You know what I mean.” In his voice you could nearly see his mischievous smile.

“I’ve told you about all of them so I don’t know why you’re asking. It’s been about a year.”

“A year? Really?”

“--Nope! You don’t get to ask any more questions. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Jeonghan said without a moment’s hesitation.

Your eyes wandered the room for his perfect punishment. “Ah! Take that soy sauce, the one with the wasabi bits in it...and drink it.”

Your friend sighed, but took the tiny cup in his fingers to down it all in one shot. He shivered a little and you could feel his face scrunch up, but he held his reactions back best he could.

“That was such a high school dare. You really haven’t changed.”

“I thought it was funny.”

“Truth or dare Y/n.”

“Truth.”

“Ughhh truth again?”

“ ‘Hannnn--”

“Just say dare! I promise that I’ll go easy on you.”

“Fine then. Dare.”

“I dare you...to take your shirt off.”

“What?!” Your head snapped back to send him your deathly glare. “Are you being serious right now?”

“What? It’s nothing that I haven’t seen? Are you forgetting that we’ve been friends for nearly our whole lives? That and college you were someone who would go to parties and take your shirt off. Remember that?”

“...yes.” You felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Fine then.” In one motion, you pulled your shirt over your head, jumping a little once you felt Jeonghan’s hands help tear it off your arms. You hesitated to lay back, but his arms made a decision before you could, and pulled you back into his chest. Now, it was the skin of his fingers on your bare arms that you were painfully aware of.

“T-truth or dare?” You squeaked out.

“Truth.”

“No fair, you made me do dare!”

“I already did a dare. Truth.”

From the other side of your room, your refrigerator clacked with the sound of ice cubes falling into their tray. On the door, dozens of multi-colored post-it-notes had been suck there with clear tape.

“...Why is it that you’re always writing me those notes? “yjh was here?”“

“Hmm.” He breathed out. “I had a feeling that you might ask me that one.”

“...And?”

“--Because I like to. And...”

Your anticipation hung tangibly in the air. You didn’t quite know it, but you had been waiting for his answer for so many years, you had lost count.

“...And I like seeing them around you. -Reminds me that I’m a part of your life. Kind of like how we exist together. They’re little reminders for you as well...to know that I’m around for you.”

“Jeonghan...” You wouldn’t have expected it, but tears singed the corners of your eyes.

“Truth or dare?” He cooed into your ear.

“D-dare.” Your voice shook, realizations flooding you like rain.

“I dare you to take off your pants. Can you do that?” His voice had dropped, low and gravely.

You nodded your answer, and took to unbuttoning your pants, shimmying them off where you sat on the floor. As soon as your bare legs were exposed, he had found a new place to rest his hands; you never would have guessed for them to be so beautiful-looking there.

“I choose dare.” He breathed onto your bare neck.

“I-I dare you take off our shirt too.” Your face felt furiously warm as you uttered the words and he did exactly as he was told. The sensation of your skin on his skin then sent your head spinning with just how close you had been in that moment, closer than ever before.

Jeonghan’s hands explored your bare legs with a touch as soft as butterfly wings. His light touches sent an aching pain to your sex as it had never felt so needy and neglected.

“Truth or dare my love?”

In an attempt to hide your frustration, you could only form the word, “T-truth?”

“Hmm...truth...” Jeonghan began to kneed into your legs, digging his nails in every so slightly. “Have you ever kept secrets from me?”

“Secrets? Why-why would I, I don’t-mmph-have any secrets to keep from you.”

“I think that’s a lie Y/n.”

Indeed it was a lie. You had kept secrets from him. Two secrets to be exact; one of them being near the precipice for the whole universe to see.

“I’ve kept secrets from you, you know.”

“What?”

“Do you dare me to show you?”

Your anxious breath caught in your lungs, full of confusion but even more excitement. Jeonghan’s hands crept slowly up to your hips.

He repeated, “Do you?”

“Ye-yes. I dare you to show me.” Your eyes had closed feeling his hands draw even farther up your body.

Your best friend surveyed your whole chest with his hands, swirling around as much skin as he could touch. He was careful not to tickle you, but rather give every ounce of your being his careful attention. For a moment, his fingers grazed over your nipples, but went to cradle your neck in his hands. He turned it to the side to expose the beating vein there, and placed the slowest and most tender kiss upon it. From the feeling of his fleeting lips, you whimpered at the sensation.

“Dare.” You managed with a dry mouth. “I dare you to touch me...anywhere you want...please...”

Jeonghan chuckled slightly into your neck. “I just had my turn, but...I’m listening.”

Your entire body keened under his fingertips, writhing messily between his legs. This time, he was careful in touching you nearly everywhere: your chest, your nipples--pinching them slightly--and down your legs, to your inner thighs where he traced up to your underwear, now wetting a little with your arousal.

“Tell me the truth.” He bit into your skin. “Am I one of your secrets?”

Your answer was given to him in the form of you forcefully tearing from his grip to push his legs together so that you could straddle them. The way that his shoulder blades flexed under your firm grip was dizzying. Your eyes fell to his lips: your secret.

“I dare you to kiss me,” You breathed onto them.

“I thought that you’d never ask.”

Jeonghan was smiling as he pulled your lips into his, and he never quite seemed to stop. Every bit of your love for him spilled into his mouth where you found the comfort from him that you had craved for years. You had felt first kisses before, but nothing was quite like this one. With Jeonghan who you had known for so long, you were thrilled to get to know him in this new and different way, and you wanted to absorb every little bit of it: the way he would caress the sides of your face so gently, or the way that he would angle your neck to meet his lips. You would never have guessed to feel so complete with him like this, but it also made all the sense in the world. It was you that he wanted, and you that he wanted to stay next to through all those years. He had never let you go, and you had never let him either.

In between kisses, you found both of yourselves giggling hysterically.

“Are we really doing this right now? Are we...?” You bit a laugh into his lip.

“Yes. I think that we are.” He engulfed you in his grasp. “I’ve wanted to do this for years, Y/n.

Jeonghan scooped you up, moving both of your bodies to the couch where he clinked with his belt buckle to remove his pants. “You really do look beautiful. Everyday. I’m not just saying that.”

You practically clawed at him to lay his body on top of yours, then wrapped your legs around his waist to align him with your own. In your unadulterated intoxication of him, you hopelessly grinded up into him, seeking some kind of stimulation from the mashing of fabric together. After a little scoff, Jeonghan’s hand cascaded down your body to rub at your throbbing sex, marveling in the way that you had soaked though your underwear just a little.

“Wow. This is how you feel about me?”

“Do you want me to say sorry?”

“No--it’s just...I wish that I had known sooner.”

Your lust brought his lips back to yours as you kissed him over and over and over, trying to make up for all of the times that you wished you had done before. His touch on your sensitive skin sent you mewling onto his tongue.

“Can I make you mine now?”

As for your response, your widened legs told him exactly what he needed to know.

In one swift motion, he had tugged off his own briefs, letting free his deliciously hard cock, sparkling at the head with his pre-cum. Looking at him like this, all for you, was like a walking dream.

Jeonghan gathered spit from his tongue to glide over his dick, then teased your impatient entrance while he watched your face contort into the most beautiful shapes he thought he had ever seen. He entered you slowly, letting each of you take in the moment as if you could forget it the next. Once you were together, his brows twitched a little as his closed eyes focused only on you. He filled you up perfectly, as if you were made for him--which you had convinced yourself that you were. Jeonghan buried his face in your neck to suck into the skin, marking you as his.  

Your orgasm built much quicker than you had intended, and soon you were begging him to make you cum--which he gladly did. Your heels dug into his back upon your release which gathered more heat between your two bodies. Jeonghan didn’t skip a beat as he chased his own orgasm, fucking you into your own overstimulation and leaving you to melt under him.

“Jeong-han.” You gasped out his name through your teeth as your body quaked from the snap of his hips.

“oh god,” He uttered, tangling his fingers deep into your hair, then smashing his lips back into yours. “you’re so good for me my love...so good...”

Jeonghan let out little grunts as he came and filled you deeply with the warmth from his cum. As he throbbed within you, you knew it really was him you were made for. He lingered inside your walls as your bodies shook together with the aroma of sex fogging the air. After a while, it didn’t take long for both of you to be laughing contentedly into each other’s mouths once more.

Your best friend reached for your hand to bind all of your fingers to his. "No more secrets.”

☆彡

“Do you want the sweatpants from the top shelf or the rack?” Jeonghan called to you through your cruelly tiny apartment. “Wait...i-is this...?”

Once he had returned, in his hand he held the aged strawberry milk carton with the little cartoon fruit on the side and the scrap piece of paper wrapped around it. In the other was your little box of notes.

yjh was here

“I can’t believe that you’ve kept it this long. Why--”

“--I’ll tell you why...it’s my second secret.”

Your best friend cocked his head. “...Second?”

“Ever since that day, I’ve known, Yoon Jeonghan. I love you.”

☆彡

if you’ve got to this point, hehe hello I’m Ro, I write for skz and svt, and I’d love to write some more svt! If you’d like, you can send me your asks