#but her answering that way implies she took the question to mean 'why did your eye color change'

[mumblesplash]

gem, what happened to your eye?

(wanted to upload this panel separately, original is from this comic)

[reidsmanuscript]

Seven Seconds

Summary: when Katie Jacob's gets abducted in a Mall, setting the clock for the BAU, who needs a legal favor, and it's been a year since the A.D.A. has know anything about Spencer Reid. Pairing: Spencer Reid x lawyer!reader Genre: pinning, SLOW BURN, maybe right moment?, angst bc i love angst wc: 4.6k! (i know so small comparing to part 1 bear with me) TW: cm canon typical violence, set in 05x3 "Seven seconds" (obviously lol), sexual violence, implied reader's dark past, glimpses of female rage. A/N: my idea for the serie is be taylor jenkins reid and have you question if lawyer reader exists or not (delusional bitch), english is not my first language and let's pretend it's proofread part I - part II - part III - part IV - masterlist

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Spencer sat on the park bench reading a book while playing chess with Ethan, brilliant kid for his age and good opponent, not good enough though because when he cheered “I see checkmate in 5, What do you see?” It took Spencer one glance to calculate all the movements necessary.

“I see it in 3” he answered looking at his book again, the kid turned around the board and moved the pieces

“We've missed you out here” he said, staring at the board amazed.

“Thanks. I, uh, I had to take a little break”

“How come?” His hands froze on the book for a second before closing it.

Spencer had been clean for over a year now, it was 14 months and 2 weeks ago that he had freaked out after noticing his stash of Dialud was gone along with his needle. Where could he find more? Who knew about his addiction? Where was his stash? Who the fuck is Dr. Fitzgerald? Did you report him?

His first instinct was confronting you, given that you were the only person who found out his drugs that he knew, the first days he was a complete paranoid, he jumped every time Hotch called his name, or that Gideon looked at him a little too long.

At the end of the week he was thinking where he could find more, and when that thought scared him, he called the number of the card you had left in the same pocket his drugs used to be.

“Hello this is Dr. Fitzgerald” said a calm voice, it was 10 p.m. so there was a higher chance of going to voicemail, but he got an answer and the tremor of his hands got a little worse. Was it the anxiety or the withdrawal?

“Umm hello.. this is.. Dr.. this is Spencer Reid and someon-""I've been waiting for your call Dr Reid” the other line interrupted, he froze for a second.

“I used to play with a co-worker friend of mine. He's probably the best mind I ever went up against. One day, he just decided that he didn't want to play anymore.”

Fast forward, she helped him get clean and stay clean after Gideon left, getting tested regularly, and gave him the contact of the help group of FBI addicts. He was better, he was alive.

“So you gave up, too?”

“Just the opposite. I attempted to play Through every permutation of moves on a chessboard.”

“That's an infinite number of games.”

“It's not infinite. It's just- it's exponentially large.”

“You couldn't have played through them all.”

“There's an average of 40 moves per chess game, And I'll tell you something– the more I played, The more I realized that every single match every single chess game, Is really just a simple variation on the exact same theme. You know? It's aggressive opening, Patient mid-game, inevitable checkmate, And I realized why my friend quit. He was tired of repeating the same patterns And expecting a different outcome.”

“That's because you haven't come up on Fridays or Mondays in a while” the way his eyebrows went up along his voice tone made him feel like he knew something that he didn't.

His eyebrows furrowed “What do you mean?”

“There's this great player who comes around those days, she even brings the best pastries, and her games is similar to yours, always two or three moves ahead, she always beats everyone here… i think her boyfriend called her Buzz or something like that, like the Toy Story character”

“Buzz?… i don't really remember anyone with that nickname”

“It’s probably not that one but you don't know her because she started coming like 8 months ago.. I'm sure you have a lifetime of chess strategy in your head that you're just sitting on, but when you meet her?” He made a dramatic pause “You'll have to play it.”

He glances at his watch to realize his 15 minute break is coming to an end. “I still use it. I just, uh... I apply it differently. I have to go. It's good seeing you.”

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That evening, the BAU was called in for a local case—a little girl, Katie, had been kidnapped from a busy mall. A week earlier, another girl had been taken from the same location and found dead hours later. Now, they were all racing against the clock.

Katie’s parents were desperate. As any parents would be in this situation, right? But when Hotch asked the father if either of them was having an affair—a routine question in abductions—the man took offense. Deep offense. So much so that he refused to let the FBI search their house.

Now, what kind of parent refuses to help the police find their missing child?

In a small surveillance room, Morgan and Reid sat with Garcia, who was visibly frustrated by the mall’s ancient security system. They were surrounded by screens displaying grainy footage from different angles—well, almost every angle. They had a single glimpse of Katie in one video, and then, seven seconds later, she was gone.

JJ and Prentiss were with the mother, aunt, and uncle, trying to get a read on the family dynamic. Meanwhile, Morgan and Reid had conducted a cognitive interview with Katie’s cousin. It had led nowhere.

“The family has refused permission to search the house,” Hotch announced as he stepped into the room.

“What do you mean they denied?” Morgan’s frustration was evident. “Your only child goes missing, and you refuse to collaborate?”

No one disagreed. They were all thinking the same thing.

“The cousin didn’t say much,” Reid added. “He was too distracted in the game room to notice anything.”

Hotch exhaled sharply. “I’ll speak to the detectives, see if we can get a warrant.” His tone was firm, but they all knew time wasn’t on their side.

Garcia adjusted her glasses. “Sir, I mean this in the best way possible, but it’s almost 8 p.m. I don’t think-”

“I’ll handle it,” Morgan interrupted.

All Reid and Garcia turned to him with identical looks. What do you mean you will handle it?

Hotch’s eyebrows furrowed, but after a moment, he gave a small nod and walked away. Morgan was already pulling out his phone.

“I have a contact,” he explained, dialing.

He put the phone on speaker. It rang once. Twice. On the third ring, a voice answered—sharp, direct, and all business.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

Reid went rigid.

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It was late in the office; most people had already gone home, including your assistant Molly. All but Austin, who was still there because he had a lead on one of your cases. You knew he was still hanging around because, over a year ago, when someone had snuck into your office to harm you, you’d become a little paranoid. You’d gotten better, but Austin insisted on keeping you company, especially since your car was in the mechanic’s.

You were reviewing a legal brief, pen in hand, skimming the margins to jot down notes when the desk phone rang. Without looking up, you hit the speaker button with the tip of the pen.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

There was a beat of silence before a familiar voice cut in—smooth, direct, urgent.

Morgan called your name “Hey. We need a warrant. Fast.” You blinked, setting the pen down.

Reid and Garcia exchanged glances as Morgan jumped in without hesitation.

“Katie Jacobs. Eight years old. Abducted from a mall earlier tonight,” Morgan started, all business. “Another girl was taken from the same place a week ago—she was found dead hours later. We’re working against the clock.”

You frowned, swirling the pen, going through the multiple scenarios. You had heard about last week’s case, and how slow the police had moved back then.

“We’ve got mall surveillance footage,” Morgan pressed. “At first, we thought she just vanished, but Garcia finally pulled something from one of the side corridors. Katie wasn’t taken by force—she was walking calmly with someone.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around her pen. “Someone she knows.”

“Exactly,” Morgan confirmed. “That narrows it down to family or close acquaintances.” They all shared a silent thought. Family.

We know they’re hiding something,” Morgan corrected. “We just don’t have the probable cause to kick the door down.”

Garcia watched as Morgan paced slightly, his tone firm but urgent.

“That’s thin, Morgan,” Your voice came through the speaker, steady and unyielding.

“We don’t have time for airtight,” Morgan countered.

Your jaw tightened. “You don’t have time for me to get laughed out of a judge’s office, either. Refusing a search isn’t a crime, and suspicion alone doesn’t cut it. I need more.” You understood where the suspicious came from, how are you supposed to help them if they had nothing?

There was a pause. A beat of silence. Then, another voice—one you hadn’t heard in over a year.

“99% of abducted children who are killed due within the first 24 hours” He cleared his throat, willing his voice to stay even. Spencer Reid. “75% within the first 3 hours, and what only law enforcement knows is Jessica Davis joined the 44% of children who are abducted and killed within the first hour. We’re already past the three-hour mark. If we don’t act now, statistically speaking—”

“The likelihood of recovery drops exponentially,” You sighed, already standing up, ignoring how his voice sounded. So different. So… clean.

Your gaze flicked to the clock. 8:06 p.m. Damn it.

You grabbed a blank warrant form from her drawer and reached for a pen. “Send me the address and everything else you have. Give me 20 minutes.”

Click. You didn’t have time for goodbyes.

Austin raised an eyebrow from his seat. “Guess you’re not going home anytime soon.”

You didn’t look up as you started writing. “I never was.”

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The courthouse was mostly deserted at this hour. The fluorescent lights hummed quietly, and the stillness of the evening was only interrupted by the sharp click of your heels on the polished floors followed by Austin’s boots toward the judge’s chambers.

“You sure you don’t want me to take this one? Sweet-talk her maybe?” he teased.

You shot him a look. “You think Judge Holloway is the type to be charmed? Plus, you’re a private investigator, not a lawyer.”  

“She’s not gonna like you showing up this late.”  

You didn’t miss a beat. “If she’s still up, she’ll make time for this.”  

Taking a steadying breath as you stopped in front of the door, you quickly ran through your notes, making sure you had every detail in order. Then, without hesitation, you pushed through the heavy wooden doors of Judge Evelyn Holloway’s chambers.  

Inside, the judge barely glanced up from her paperwork. “You have two minutes, Woodvale.”

Stepping forward, you set the warrant request on the desk. “Your Honor, I apologize for the late hour, but we have a child abduction case we’re working against the clock. A young girl, Katie Jacobs, was taken from a mall over three hours ago. We’ve obtained surveillance footage showing her walking with an individual—someone she likely knows. We believe the family is withholding information, and they’ve refused to allow us to search the residence.”

The judge narrowed his eyes, folding her hands on the desk. “And what do you propose I do about it? What evidence do you have to warrant a search?”

You kept your voice steady. “We have footage of the girl with someone who wasn’t a stranger, Your Honor. The parents are refusing cooperation, and the father was evasive when asked about possible affairs, which raises red flags about his involvement.”

Holloway sighed, leaning back in her chair. “That’s thin.” You were ready for that.

“I have the full footage from the mall security, including a timestamp showing the precise time the girl went missing. She is last seen walking calmly with someone she knows, most likely family.”

There was a brief pause, and for a second, you thought you were about to lose her. So you pulled Reid’s words from memory, adjusting them just enough to make them your own.

“Time is working against us. Statistics show that 99% of abducted children who are murdered lose their lives within the first 24 hours 75% within just the first three. And only law enforcement-”

She cut you off with a raised hand, signaling you to stop.

The judge exhaled through her nose, it was late and you were rambling about statistics and you knew she wanted you out as soon as possible when you started citing numbers. So pushing himself out of her chair with a slight groan. “Fine. Get me the paperwork. I’ll sign it—but you better have your ducks in a row.”

You nodded, her demeanor unflinching. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

As you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the hours ahead of you. But you were used to this—fighting against the clock.

“Let’s move,” motioning to Austin. He gave you a small nod. “You got it.”

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Exactly 15 minutes after the call, 5 minutes earlier than promised, Morgan’s phone rang. He answered it without even looking. 

"You got your warrant. I'll meet you there," Alex’s voice came through, crisp and businesslike, just as expected.

Morgan exhaled, his relief barely hidden. "Thank you, Woody."

He paused for a moment before adding, "I owe you one," then hung up, turning to Reid.

“Tell Hotch we’re heading to the Jacobs’ house,” he instructed, already moving toward the door.

Spencer had been timing her. It wasn’t the first time he'd gotten caught up in the tense waiting game of law and order, but the pressure of it had a different weight today. The memory of your voice, clear and resolute, echoed in his mind, sharper than before.

For Reid, part of getting clean wasn't just the physical withdrawal—it was the emotional weight of confronting his mistakes. The memory of how he'd lashed out at you a year ago still haunted him. How could he have been so cruel? The hurt in your eyes, the way he dismissed you, the way it all spiraled… it wasn’t just the drugs that had made him say those things. And the fury he saw when you looked at him, Dialuid in hand, how you looked like a timing bomb when he was trying to see if he could talk to you, the tension in your shoulders, the lock in your jaw, the grip on the file. He’d been battling so much more since then, in his mind, you saved his life by doing what he couldn't do.

He’d rather die than relive that moment again, than say those things. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of another chaotic case, still carrying that guilt with him. He stayed behind Morgan for just a beat before pushing down his feelings and moving quickly. 

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The engine of Austin's bike rumbled to a stop as they pulled up in front of the house, where Morgan and Reid were standing in front of the black SUV. You slid off the back with practiced ease, taking off the helmet and letting your hair fall loose.

Austin followed your lead, taking his helmet off with a groan. “So, what exactly are we looking for?”

You shot him a quick, sidelong glance, handing him the helmet, keeping your expression flat knowing he’s about to be a drama queen. “You’re not coming inside. The warrant’s for FBI and police only. Not P.I.s included”

Austin paused, a mock pout crossing his face. “Excuse me? I just got you here, through all that traffic, risking myself to get a speeding ticket and now I don’t get to search? This is the second time in the night that you P.I. shaming me. Do you hate me?”

“If I hated you I wouldn’t have bailed your ass out of jail… twice” you remark the last part. He had a talent for sticking his foot where he shouldn’t be, maybe that’s what makes him good at his job.

“You act like you wouldn’t do it a third time” he was mocking, but he was right, something you would never admit to him. 

You start walking to the house “Mhm.” you hum rolling your eyes, heading towards where Morgan and Reid were. 

You didn't expect him to be there, or maybe you did, maybe you wanted to see him and know what had happened to him since the last time you saw him. They were looking at you, Morgan with a curious already-profiling-you stare, while Reid expression was more… cautious. He looked so different, his cheekbones were prominent in an attractive way and not sickly, he had put on some healthy weight and was not fidgety. You were not mad anymore, because of course at the moment the hurt had turned into rage like it always does for you, but it was more because of phantoms than anything else. 

“Got your golden ticket” you said, avoiding Reid’s gaze as you pulled the warrant from the inner pocket of your gray coat and swung it toward them.

Morgan nodded “You staying?” He gestured with his head to Austin who was leaving.

“I have to make sure you find something, otherwise the judge will have my head for this,” you said dryly, shrugging as though the threat didn’t bother you, but there was a flicker of seriousness behind your words. You were only talking to him, which felt rude because Reid’s stare was locked in your profile. 

Reid was thinking how pretty you looked, how the black vest suited you, and he couldn’t ignore the fact you had changed your brown bag to a black one that looked nothing like his. Your white shirt and gray coat gave you an older, wiser look, but as Reid analyzed your features, he realized he didn’t even know how old you were. You couldn’t be older than him. Serious, sharp, and young... How was it possible for someone that young to be the A.D.A.?

Reid’s mind couldn’t let go of the numbers. The average age of an Assistant District Attorney in the U.S. is 36. You couldn’t be older than 25, and yet you were already in that position.

You glanced at him for a moment before stepping inside the house, feeling the weight of his stare. The look made him snap out of his trance-like state, and of course, his eidetic memory hated him, because for that brief second, he remembered how you had looked at him a year ago.

Morgan nodded and thanked you again before he and Reid walked into the house. You left the warrant on the hall table with a deliberate touch, your fingers lingering for just a moment—as if to remind yourself that you weren’t entirely done with this.

“Somebody lit a fire last night,” you heard Reid say.

“Well, there are dirty dishes for three in the kitchen, so they eat together as a family.” Morgan’s voice carried from the other room as they moved through the house, taking in the details.

If Katie was in danger, the signs wouldn’t be in plain sight. You had to look where they hid—where children kept their secrets. Their bedrooms.

“Hey, my favorite movie from when I was a kid.” Reid held up a DVD, turning it in his hands before pulling it from the player just as you passed by him, tugging on latex gloves before heading upstairs, you did feel a little guilty for not even looking or talking to him, but it was something you did unconsciously. 

“So they watch movies together, too,” Morgan mused. They were starting to build a picture of the family’s dynamic.

“By a fireplace in a house that’s straight out of a catalog,” Reid added. “Norman Rockwell couldn’t have painted this any cozier.”

“That’s what worries me.” There was weight in Morgan’s voice. A tension that sat between them.

Upstairs, you searched through the rooms with careful precision.

When you first became a lawyer, you made a promise—never ignore a sign. Since then, you have gone further. You didn’t just refuse to ignore them; you searched for them. Hollow eyes. Unexplained bruises. Small bloodstains. You looked for them in teenagers, in young adults, in the elderly. But nothing—nothing—was more painful than a child who couldn’t speak up.

Because they were small. Because someone older, someone stronger, was hurting them. There's nothing more hurtful than not being able to speak out, to say something and stand up for yourself. Except when someone did—someone saw the bruises, the fear, the signs—and they looked away deliberately. Because a child’s pain was inconvenient. Because it came with a mountain of paperwork no one wanted to touch.

You had spent your whole life making sure you never looked away.

That’s why you were hunched over the small desk in Katie’s bedroom, flipping through her drawings when Morgan and Reid entered the room. They started searching, their movements efficient and methodical.

“Katie’s been wetting her bed,” Reid said as he lifted the duvet, inspecting the mattress beneath it.

“A lot of six-year-olds do. Could be bad dreams,” Morgan replied, crouching beside you as he sifted through a pile of toys.

You considered that possibility—it was perfectly logical. In a perfect world.

“Some kids won’t get up at night because they’re afraid of the dark,” Reid added, his tone careful. Almost knowing.

“Or it could be a lot more complex than that.”

Morgan had found a doll. Not a Barbie missing a shoe or one that had simply been played with too much. No—this doll was different.

Its hair had been hacked off, jagged strands sticking out unevenly. Red marker smeared across its face like smeared blood. Its clothes were yanked askew, twisted, and wrong.

“Most girls covet their dolls like an extension of themselves.” He took the doll in his hands like it was made of fine glass. 

“Reid, I know these signs-— acting out on her toys, wetting the bed. She's obviously covering up something about that necklace.”

“And her cousin might be holding something back.”

“Well, this looks more like a man than a boy to me,” you said, holding up a drawing of a tall, shadowy figure towering over a small, crying child.

Morgan took it from your hands, his expression hardening as he analyzed the image.

“Psychology says drawing is a child’s way of channeling their inner world. Look at the strokes—how harsh they are,” you pointed to the dark, jagged lines forming the tall figure, then traced your finger over the smaller one. “And this looks like Katie to me. She forgot to draw the hands, which means she feels powerless… helpless.” 

Morgan took his phone out, dialing up “Hotch, we think Katie’s being molested,” Morgan said, his voice clipped. “And we both know the odds.”

A brief silence. Then Hotch’s response, firm and certain. “Most likely by someone under the same roof.”

He hung up, and both men started toward the door, their movements brisk with purpose. But you stayed behind for a moment, rooted in place, taking in the scene. Trying to quiet the distant sirens that echoed in your mind, the same ones always shouting when you were face to face with these situations. A loud pause—maybe out of respect for Katie and her pain, for everything she had been forced to endure.

From the doorway, Spencer glanced back. The dim light from the hallway cast your figure in stark contrast, outlining you in shadow—your form dark against the soft glow of the room. He couldn’t see your expression, couldn’t read your face. He focused on the way your hands curled into fists at your sides, the tight set of your shoulders.

And he wished—just for a second—that he could see more.

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You stood outside, leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over your chest. By your side were Morgan, Jeremy, Katie’s cousin, and Reid.

Turns out, Katie’s uncle, Richard, was her abuser. A disgusting son of a bitch who deserved to rot in hell. And you were going to make sure he did. He had destroyed Katie’s childhood, probably more than just hers, shattering an entire family in the process. His own son, standing right next to you, was collateral damage he clearly hadn’t spared a thought for. And then there was his wife. The woman who had chosen to look away. Who had taken Katie and nearly gotten her killed, all for the pathetic, desperate hope that it would somehow stop her husband from creeping into little bedrooms at night. She deserved the same hell he did.

A stretcher rolled past, Katie’s small frame barely visible beneath the blankets as the paramedics guided her into the ambulance. Her mother clutched her tiny hand, whispering something—words meant to soothe, to promise safety.

A young voice cut through the air. “I heard her call my mom’s name. That’s what I remembered before.”

You closed your eyes, your mind already racing ahead. Your attorney brain was piecing it together, sketching out the battle that was coming. If the kid had heard it, that made him a witness to the abduction. His own mother had committed the crime against her niece. And God only knew what else he had seen—what else had been happening in that house—without fully understanding it.

“We get it, kid. That’s your mom,” Morgan said, his voice steady. But you knew the truth: if Jeremy could barely say those words to them, getting him to the stand in front of a jury would be another fight entirely.

The boy shifted on his feet, staring at the ambulance. “What’s gonna happen to me now?”

If God existed, He had already been too cruel. He had let all of this happen. And you knew how these things worked—knew there was a very real chance that Katie’s parents, burdened with their own grief, would resent Jeremy by association. That they wouldn’t take him in. That he would be swallowed by the foster system.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

The sirens blared outside the mall, cutting through the air with urgency, but it was the ones inside your mind that were louder—screaming in the same rhythm, as if they were one and the same. Distant and deafening, they filled every corner of your head, drowning out everything but the grim reality unfolding before you.

“I don’t know, Jeremy,” Reid answered, his voice gentle. “But we’re gonna make sure you’re alright, okay?”

Jeremy didn’t look at him. His eyes stayed fixed on the ambulance. “Is Katie gonna be all right?”

You wished—desperately, violently—that you could tell him yes. That you could say it with certainty and make it true. But how could you give him something you didn’t have?

“She will, eventually,” Morgan said, his voice firm.

You exhaled sharply. The words made your skin crawl.

“Is she?” The question slipped from your lips before you could stop it—low, bitter, nearly spat out under your breath. Just quiet enough that the kid wouldn’t hear. Just loud enough that Morgan did.

Before he could respond, you were already moving.

Your feet carried you toward the police car, toward the sick, selfish bastard they were shoving into the backseat. Your hand shot out, slamming the door closed—harder than necessary, just enough that it cracked against Richard’s face.

Morgan watched. So did Spencer.

And for the first time, he realized just how much of a puzzle you really were.

Partially because, throughout all of this, you hadn’t looked at him once. Not when he entered the room, not when he spoke, not even now, standing just a few feet away.

Partially because your eyes, when he finally caught a glimpse of them, were full of something he rarely saw outside of a case like this. Pure, undiluted rage.

Not just anger. Not just frustration. Something deeper. Something personal.

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part III　 Feedback feeds motivation! Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated <3

[uchispeach]

Sycamore Tree (Ch. 2)

Pairing: Dark! Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Mention of violence & guns, implied stalking, non consensual touching, obsessive behavior, manipulative! Rafe…

This fic will contain dark content: such as dub-con/ non-con and violence. You have been warned.

12 missed calls. 10 from Jennifer and 2 from an unknown number. That’s what you’ve woken up to.

You sighed while rubbing your face. You were about to get up, leaving the comfort of your silky sheets just as your phone rang. “Hi” You spoke softly. “Thank God you answered!” A high pitched voice received your ears with no previous warning.

“I’m sorry Jen, I just checked my pho-” The dark haired girl was quick to interrupt you, adrenaline bubbling through her veins: “Did they arrest JJ?” The question took you by surprise “Why would they?” A frown decorated your face.

“Because he tried to shoot Topper?” Your upper body lifted itself from the pillows. “Wait- he fired the gun?” You made the move to get out of your bed, coldness hitting the soles of your feet. “Girl, yes he did! It was a miracle he didn’t hit him” Just like an automatic response, you paced back and forth, each step bringing you more and more anxiety.

“Is Topper pressing charges?” Your fingers grew white while you held the mobile with excessive force. “That’s what Kelce told me.” That last sentence made you stop in your tracks, frozen in the same spot.

Hundreds of scenarios traveled your brain, the last worse than the previous. “Y/N!” You flinched, remembering you were in the middle of a conversation. “Jen, I have to talk to Kiara. I’ll call you later.” The words were honeyed, almost like a plea. Even in the worst circumstances, you still worried about sounding rude.

“Alright, I just wanted to know you were safe… Even Rafe was concerned” The mention of the older blond made you tune back a little. “Rafe Cameron?” You couldn’t help the surprise on your tone. “Yes! He even asked for your number.”

(…)

“There’s no way on Earth we are letting you visit that boy!” Your mom didn’t hesitate in raising her voice, all in hopes of reaching your sister’s common sense.

“I already told you, we weren’t even on the same side of the island when it happened!” Kiara was relentless, stubborn with the idea of checking on her friends after yesterday’s rough night.

A lie or two had been told to your parents, something about assisting a small Kook reunion and religiously staying away from any messy party.

“I don’t care about that, you are not leaving this house on your own!” She waved her hands in annoyance. Desperation leaking through her words. “Then-” Your sister was cut short: “And you are not getting your phone back!”

Kiara took some steps back, rage exuding from her body as she stomped her way to her bedroom.

Flushed and tense, your mother made the move to follow behind. Starting with big strides and frustrated huffs.

You didn’t hesitate to step in as soon as she reached the white door. “Mom, I’ll talk to her…Don't stress about it” You basically begged, putting your palms on her tense shoulders as a comforting gesture.

The older woman just sighed, lifting her arms in defeat before turning around.

You waited a few minutes before turning the handle. Your sweaty hands held the metal piece with unnecessary force. Sobs were the first thing you heard, coming from the wobbling mouth of the brunette.

Step by step, you got closer to her sitting body. Your pace was hesitant, still, you made it to the bed. You felt the mattress weighing down as you positioned yourself by her side.

In a natural response, your soft arms wrapped around her. Skin to the raspy fabric of her blouse. “This is all Sarah’s fault” You backed up a little at the sound of her voice, afraid of possible harsh words being spat your way.

Surprised at the blond’s mention, you pulled her right back in, caressing her back with your warm palm. “What do you mean?” Your voice was quiet like a whisper. “Topper caught her and John B…” She raised her head, to look straight at you.

“…getting cozy.” She let out a bitter snicker while a sour look invaded her features. “And just like that, John B was being drowned by that pretentious Kook…We just saw how his life was slipping away. All for a stupid girl.” You struggled to swallow, a big knot already forming in your throat.

“Y/N” She squeezed your hand while her eyes pleaded at you. “JJ was just trying to save him.” A dreadful feeling leaked into your heart, ignoring it, you wholeheartedly said: “Everything’s going to be okay” You rubbed Kiara’s back as the optimistic words left your lips.

And as her teary face buried in your chest, you couldn’t help but think the worst.

(…)

“Please tell me you’re safe” You breathed frantically on the phone’s speaker. “We are for now…No idea what will go down after the police are involved.” You shrugged, Pope’s voice echoing in your ears.

You recognized the fear behind his words. A situation like this was putting his future at risk. “I’m sure they’ll understand JJ’s reasoning…At the end, nobody was hurt!” You voiced out at a rushed pace.

Silence was your answer for some excruciating seconds. “Is Kiara available?” It was clear he preferred to ignore your intended reassurance. “Is not that I don’t want to speak with you…I actually feel a bit better after hearing your voice.” It was almost like he read your mind, just as a childhood friend would do.

“…It’s just-JJ is going crazy without the capability to contact her.” You understood, quietly sneaking out of your room and into the hallway. “I get it. I’ll get her on the phone…Just wait” You focused on avoiding any encounter with your parents.

“Oh and Y/N” His tone was quieter than usual, almost as if it carried some shame to it. “I want you to know I tried my best to de-escalate things…they just got too ugly.” A frown appeared on your brows as you spoke in reassurance: “I know Pope. You have absolutely no blame in this!” You were as loud as you could, showing your honesty.

“Now, don’t beat yourself up. We’ll find a way to sort this out!”

(…)

“Your phone rang like crazy” Your sister handed you the device. With your hands full of unoccupied bags you stared confusedly at her. “Who was it?” Your legs made their way to the porch.

“A random number…I didn’t answer though” She shrugged her shoulders while realization made your nervousness spike. “Oh, probably just spam.” And as hard as you tried to find a hint of suspicion on the brunette’s posture, she simply looked defeated.

“Hey! When I get back I’ll make you something nice for dinner” Your hand caressed her tanned shoulder as a last sign of support.

On your way to the gate, you couldn’t help but stare at the growing number of missed calls. Still, you decided to ignore them and continue your walk to the store.

(…)

The bags felt heavier under the burning afternoon sun, but the summer breeze made the situation a bit better.

Having your sundress lifted up softly by a wave of air made you walk faster to the safety of your home. Too distracted by the possibility of your full bags breaking and making a big mess, you didn’t notice yourself walking straight onto a hard surface.

Your chest crashed onto what you recognized to be another person's torso. A loud gasp was all you could mutter while apologetically staring into the “stranger’s” eyes.

“Rafe” Your voice sounded almost like a squeak of a caught mouse. The Cameron boy stood proudly in front of you, reverse cap, characteristic polo shirt and navy shorts on. He wasn’t late to comment on your clumsy act: “You should really watch we’re you’re going, Y/N.” And as those words left his pink lips, a small smirk started decorating his face.

In contrast, your features morphed into an embarrassed look. “I am so sorry” You emphasized the ‘so’ with clear remorse, as to which the blond only smiled wider. “No worries! I’ve always known you can be a little distracted.” That made you relax a little.

“Let me help you with that.” He expressed while already having ripped off the bags from your smaller hands. “Don’t bother-” he didn’t let you finish. “You know…” His factions grew serious. “…I’ve been trying to contact you.”

Your palms unconsciously got sweaty as you saw him lightly tilting his head to the side, and you noticed how his tall figure blocked the light from the sky, making him look a tad more imposing.

“Oh! How?” You smiled, taking the easy route. “You should really answer the phone.” It was an order, not an advice. “I…” Suddenly, you couldn’t find your communication skills anywhere.

“I was concerned about you.” He took a step closer, making you feel like there was not enough oxygen for both of you (even though you were outside).

“Well” You gulped heavily, before taking a deep, silent breath. “I am not the one who is in trouble.” You couldn’t be anything but truthful, and against all odds, you felt a strong trust for the Cameron boy.

“My house is a crazy place right now, and Kiara is the one suffering the most” You just continued to spill in the almost empty parking lot. “I imagine, why don’t you let me drive you home?” Again, the question stayed as a formality as he got your groceries on the back of his truck.

“Just if you want to.” That made him turn to face you, a wolfish grin showing a hint of his pearly white teeth. “Of course I want to, I’ll be damned if I don't.” You didn’t know if it was his words or the heat of the sunny day, but you felt the warmth reaching your cheeks.

And your flustered state only grew deeper as he put his big hand on your lower back, helping you enter his luxurious vehicle.

Your breath got stuck in your throat as his arm rubbed against your chest and abdomen; only brought back by the ‘click’ sound of the seat belt.

“Safety first” His tongue had a charming tone while still having his upper extremities resting on your skin. You only nodded in agreement, too enticed by his proximity; and when he pulled back, you couldn’t help but feel a bit conflicted.

The blond got on the driver’s seat, confidently turning on the truck and maneuvering the steering wheel with his long fingers. “So, how have you been holding up?” Genuine interest lingered in his question. “I’m…scared. I don’t want my friends going to jail.” You stopped, taking in some fresh air “I know bad decisions were taken, but still…”

“I don’t think you should be around that type of people…” You frowned, and he continued “…volatile people, who put everyone around them at risk. You deserve better than all the stress that comes with it.” You saw him pull his eyes away from the street just to stare deeply at you.

You didn’t know what it was, if his intense gaze, the lack of sleep or a wave of sensitivity thrown your way by the universe; but tears started forming on your eyes and your lip started wobbling, making the young man look at you with sympathy written all over his face. “See? Pogues bring nothing but problems” His hand reached out to pull back a strand of hair that was blocking your face.

“I know…I know they weren’t exactly right for acting that way but-but” You stumbled upon your words, a small sob interrupting your sentence. Rafe’s attention was back on the road but he still looked at you through the corner of his eyes.

“It’s alright…” The palm on your upper thigh took you by surprise; he caressed it confidently, making the hem of your skirt rise a little. “…Maybe we could find a way to…fix things.”

You blinked in uncertainty. “But how?” Even with his head facing upfront, you could still see the playful look on his face. “I know Topper can get a tad too emotional…he just needs a little guiding here and there.” The more he spoke, the more you understood what he meant.

“Would you do that for me?” Your eyes sparkled in hope, hope that kept you from unnerving as his hand traveled further up your leg. “I mean, that’s what friends are for, right?”

“Thank you” Your voice sounded almost like a whisper, produced by the slight dizziness forming on your brain.

“I’m not gonna lie, Y/N. I don’t understand why you’re so attached to them.” The sudden exasperation in his voice was subtle but not unnoticeable. His anger was accompanied by a harsh squeeze to your flesh.

The feeling of his fingertips burying into your skin made you breathe heavier.

The truck stopped without a warning, making you jump slightly. “Here we are!” He let go of you with a pat, cheerfully speaking.

“Thanks!” Was all you managed to let out. Your fingers made the move to open the door but you were stopped by his strong arms.

His warm breath hit your lips, and you stayed still as he undid the belt. “See you around?” He asked with a smile on his face.

“Sure!” You were quick to reply. Before jumping out of the vehicle and onto your front yard, you spoke: “And Rafe, thank you so much for offering your…help.”

“Of course” He nodded charmingly. You made your way inside the house, too shocked with the interaction to think about how he drove you home without the need of giving him the address.

A/N: I had salmonella, I got hospitalized for a few days, then, I was forced to stay at an internet-less town for a month; anyways, I hope I’ll be able to post next chapter in a few days 💕

[hotasfahrenheit]

i've had some thoughts rattling around my brain about Keen since episode 9 showed us flashbacks of the boys as kids when they were adopted and then a little older when they started their training for real, and this week's episode just added more fuel to the fire.

i think one of the saddest things that the last couple episodes have really exposed that a lot of people might miss because of the other bombshells that have been dropped is the fact that Keen was set up possibly even worse than Fadel and Bison were in this life. they were adopted together, told they were going to be a family, and then Lily manipulated them all into becoming who they are as adults. she lucked out that Bison and Fadel liked each other so much and bonded so strongly to each other, and she used that bond to isolate and control Keen in a completely different way.

Keen's desperate to be in the field like the other two and to be sent on missions; he doesn't have the same set of skills that they do and wasn't able to develop his talents in the same way, and it's clear that Lilly took the natural aptitude of Fadel and Bison and turned that into what they are now, but she chose to push Keen into the behind the scenes aspect of the business. she's also made it clear from the start which set of talents she values more as is clear from the way she glares at Keen when he can't shoot his bottle in the flashback.

Keen isn't given any kind of reassurance or support for missing his shot, or told to try again; Lily answers Bison's questions about why they need to learn to shoot by telling them that they have to learn to protect themselves, then she gives Keen a few more judgey looks, implying it's something she doesn't expect him to be able to do. the next scene in the flashback is her giving Bison and Fadel their first assignment, and by this point Keen has already been relegated to being the paper guy and having an office job.

these kids all lost their parents and are gathered up by Lily at the same time and told they're going to be a family; they look like they're all roughly the same age. we all know how seriously Fadel and Bison take to the brother relationship, but Keen is pushed to the outside of this by Lily and her priorities. i had figured before episode 10 that they had been trained together for a longer period of time and maybe Keen had just not gotten along with them because he was jealous of their talents, but Fadel telling Style that he doesn't really know anything about Keen besides that they were adopted at the same time says to me that Lilly purposefully kept them apart instead of it being their choice.

Fadel saying they don't care about Keen makes me so sad for him. the fact that he only really knows that Keen was adopted at the same time and does other work for Lilly that's not in the field means they don't care because they don't know him at all. they haven't had the chance to bond with him the way that they did with each other. they weren't pushed together with him; they were pushed to each other, and Keen was pushed off on his own to watch them be the favoured children and struggle by himself.

imagine your parents are murdered in front of you, you're scooped up by this woman who says she's going to take care of you and build a family with you and two other boys your age who have been through the same experience, but then you're not as good as the other two boys at the tasks she sets you, plus the two of them deeply connect to each other and fall into a sibling bond and leave you outside of it. that you're kept so separate from them that despite being a "family" for years, they know basically nothing about you, while your shared mother keeps dangling the things you want right outside of your grasp.

she's driven a wedge between the boys so deep that Keen resents Fadel and Bison enough to WANT try to kill them himself, while they don't have any idea that he would even be willing or able to. he's been kept so far out of their notice while their successes and talents have been constantly waved in front of him as well as being consistently put down by Lilly for his mistakes and inadequacies. she's pushed Keen into a corner and made him think that it's Fadel and Bison's fault for putting him there instead of it being a way for her to control him and keep him under her thumb.

Fadel and Bison have given the impression from the first episode that it's the two of them against the world; brothers bonded so tightly together that nothing can shake that. they have a Mother, but really they only have each other. it's the two of them and it always will be. but there were three of them. there were three boys when this started. and they don't care about Keen. he's alone.

i'm really hoping that the current situation snaps Keen the rest of the way out of Lilly's control. he should have already figured out what his future looks like if he really wants out of the family business like he's promised Thanon, because if he's known the entire time that Fadel's last boyfriend got murdered instead of just leaving, he should be fully aware that they face the same fate if he tries to leave Lilly. with that knowledge plus finding out that Lilly killed his parents along with Fadel's and Bison's, hopefully he turns on her and helps the others take her down. her lack of hesitation to send him or other hired hitmen after the two favoured sons should be a pretty clear signal to him about her willingness to off him as well at the drop of a hat.

fingers crossed that Keen and Thanon get to have a happy life far away from Lilly and that he finally gets to have an actual family that doesn't involve manipulation, abuse, and murder.

[ilovefootballwrs]

waiting room

Reader x Leah Williamson

Warnings: Toxic relationship, homophobia, mommy issues

"I wanna make you drive all night just because I said, "Maybe you should come over" Wanna make you fall in love as hard as my poor parents' teenage daughter She'll be the best you ever had if you let her"

---------------------

Present

"How do you know she was the one?"

How did I know she was the on? Maybe it was the way that she made me feel? When we were together it was a mess, we were a mess. But when we are apart? My heart and soul long for her. I could never let her go, it is never going to happen.

"I never said that." I answered to the question.

"I know, but you implied it." She took a long breath before continuing what she was going to say. "Listen Y/N, if this is going to help you need to work with me. I can only help you so much, the real work comes from your side."

"I do really want your help, I really do! I just don't know how."

"Okay, then let's start from the beginning, tell me about how you met."

. . .

April, 2022

"I don't know what you're getting so worked over Y/N."

"This is a big deal for me Abby! What if it goes really bad and I end up blowing it up?" I sigh before setting my coffee down.

"It won't blow up, trust me" Abby said with a reassuring nod.

"And..." She continued, "If you happened to meet a super hot lesbian footballer, give her my number!" She winked at me.

"Abigail, I won't do that!"

"Not even for Lucy Bronze?" She asked me with a pleading look.

"Not even for Lucy Bronze."

I checked my clock and saw that the training started soon.

"I have to go! Can't risk getting late for my first day." I said excitingly.

"Take some hot pics of Bronzy for me! And don't forget to send them to me, for you know a second opinion."

. . .

Present

"Did you ever feel safe talking to Abby about your feelings?" My therapist asked me.

"Abby is my best friend, and I do love her with all my heart, but I never felt comfortable talking about her about those feelings." I said with an emphasis on those.

"Can you try to explain why to me?"

"I never really understood why, I still don't, but I would guess it was because of how open she was about it and I wasn't."

"Did you ever think about coming out to her?"

I took a deep breath and started getting ready to answer the question. I could feel my hands shaking and heart beating faster.

"I guess at one point I wanted to, but I would always get reminded of what happened with my mother." I took another deep breath before continuing, "I wanted to tell her about me and Leah so badly, I really did, but I just couldn't. It wasn't even like I was trying to suppress my feelings for Leah to myself, it was just to others I did that."

. . .

April, 2022

"I am so sorry about the camera, I really didn't mean for it to happen. I can pay you for the cost!" She said in a panic.

"Don't worry, it's not me you should be worrying about because this isn't my personal camera. I got it from the media team." I told her.

"Still, I am sorry!" She looked at me. God, she has the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.

"It's okay, really." I reassured her, again.

"This is a really bad way of introducing myself." She laughed. "I'm Leah" She struck out her hand for me to shake. I took her hand and answered.

"I'm Y/N."

. . .

Present

"Leah would try to tell me that it was okay, but I never listened to her. I should've and we would've maybe still been together."

"Did you ever feel like Leah was pushing you?" My therapist looked me deep in the eyes.

"She never meant for-" I started before she interrupted me.

"Y/N, did you ever feel like Leah tried to force you to come out? It's a yes or no question and the only one that know that answer to that is you! I am not interested in what she meant or didn't mean, this is not about her it's about you!" She looked at me with a sharp glance.

"Yes, yes it did feel like that to times. It was the reason for most of our fights. She would ask me to stop hiding her and I would tell her that I never meant for that, I just wasn't ready." I sighed. "I understand how she would feel like that though. I wouldn't want that either, but it just didn't feel like she understood where it came from."

. . .

January, 2023

"I just don't understand Y/N! Why can't you just tell Abby at least? She would understand!" She yelled.

"I get that she would understand, Leah! But that isn't the point! I'm just not ready." I tried to explain.

"What are you waiting for Y/N? There's nothing stoping you from telling her, what's the big deal?" She said.

"What's the big deal? Leah, how coming out not a big deal?" I yelled at her, at this point I was furios.

"You've already come out to your mum, why can't you just come out to Abby?" She questioned.

"And how did that go Leah? She hasn't talked to me since!" I felt the tears in my eyes at this point. How could she not understand. "I thought that you of all people would understand Leah, but I guess you're just like everyone else."

"I tried not to be! But you never gave me any other choices. I want to be with someone who will drive the whole night just to be with me, but you can't even tell people about our love. Y/N, I'm not your waiting room, I can't be."

. . .

Present

"That's the last I've heard from her." At this point I was sobbing. "I tried texting her and calling her but she blocked me. She doesn't want anything to do with me." I tried to calm down, but it didn't help. "After this, I told Abby. I had to tell her. If I just told her sooner, maybe I still would've had Leah. But it's too late now."

. . .

The end.

[sgiandubh]

idk if you’ve watched it yet but in the 10th celebration video, the part where Sam says “we dnt even know when we’ll be released” and Caitríona’s reaction to it had me👀….like the rest of us it seems they too can’t wait for it all to end so they can finally “released” and free from St*rz clutches. But i thought that was interesting thing to take notice of

Dear Reaction Anon,

Of course I watched it. Friday, even. But I have a dinner to plan for Wednesday, my car to sell (plot thickens...), dinners in town and various people to see.... So, sorry for the delayed answer and so incredibly sorry for being also late to the Shipper Feast.

Almost everything has been dissected to death, as it always happens, but I might still throw in my two cents, after all. So, I'll simply relisten to that video as I answer you and hit stop every time something interesting that has not been mentioned in here yet, made me go hmmm, ok?

At the 01:35 mark, S: 'yeah, it was such a whirlwind, you know, I mean, going straight into screentests and then looking for THE Claire, and it took quite a while, and then this one landed in Scotland, you know, weeks before we just started'

Here is her reaction - definitely fed up with this peasant, right?

Also, as a side note, did you notice how emotional S gets every single time babies and domestic scenes are mentioned? For a man who supposedly has no family of his own, that is surely strange.

And then you are so, so right, Anon, this is how she reacted to his 'being in a bubble for ten years and we don't even know when we'll be released what the world looks like' comment:

Did I notice an impish smile? Well, I surely did, Anon - and so did you.

It was a smart move to watch them watch OL. I found it very interesting, lots of clues about their joint dynamic:

She, as always, is leading the pack. He is more reserved and usually takes his cues from her, constantly seeks her approval. Gradually relaxes as she seems to imply the context is 'safe enough' to loosen up a bit. And yes, this is all instinctive, by now. If I knew absolutely nothing about These Two and saw them act and react like this IRL, I would definitely have questions.

And yes, I think he could listen to her talking about WWII medical pamphlets and bandages for days and still never get bored. This guy still lives to make her laugh:

Psst, Anon - see how they hate each other, here? Which really makes me think the 'just promo/fan service' argument is borderline schizophrenic, really - and why is S wooden and clumsy when promoting anything else with ANY OTHER WOMAN in our galaxy, by the way? Also, S and McTavish pretending they were still friends at that MIK event in London was 'just fan service' - this? This is not really that.

And then, oh dear me darling, that photo. I can almost hear two different kinds of 'shiiiiit' reactions, here:

He knows he mustn't slip - as he usually does, she is more like 'shiiiiit, hehehe, see what we've done here'. Logically, then, he brings about that sorry modicum of an excuse 'I've been so jetlagged' (jetlag was actually the least problematic thing, in that pic, ROFL; also, there are two people in that pic, bless your 💖🤣). Followed by the only diversion he could think of: bringing in the 'thousands of people, that was incredible, blah blah' - and then she dutifully chimes in: ' I think we did Hall H...? the big one...?' (strange comments for a pic where one can see two very cozy and scantily dressed people, LOL). Dilute, dilute, dilute. But it's Horowitz reply that interested me the most: ' it's too bad you guys aren't photogenic, even after a long flight, like what a mess you guys look like, there':

He threw a bait, C took it: 'weeelllll...' and then Josh ended it with a simple, smiling 'please' that, in my mind, is on par with KDS' 'believe what you want'.

I also found very telling one of the last remarks by Horowitz, too: ' it's ok, they can't fire you now, it's too late, it's way too late'. Granted, it was about the trivia and allegedly in jest, but really?

And there you have it, Anon. Perhaps it's not much, but as always, I tried to take the road less traveled by. Thanks for giving me the opportunity.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

hi gorgeous!! can i req pumpkin picking with jennifer and a female reader?? its not kinky but ive been needing some jen fluff! (i livee for your writing btw 🫶🫶)

ofc you can! and thank you so much, you're very sweet 🥰 (so far you're the only person who's requested for something fall/halloween themed that isn't related to kinktober believe it or not) hope you like it 💕💕

Pumpkin Patch (Jennifer Check x fem reader)

Warnings: very brief and mild swearing, Jen is implied to have already been possessed by the demon at this point but the reader doesn't know, fluff other than that <3

"What about this one?" You asked while pointing to one of the many pumpkins that dotted the massive field.

"It's not round enough," your girlfriend Jennifer critiqued, giving it a judgmental look.

Her answer didn't surprise you. It had been almost an hour since you'd arrived at the pumpkin patch, and she still hadn't found one that she liked.

"Jen, c'mon, it's starting to get cold outside," you lightly complained while zipping up your jacket. "Just pick one so we can go."

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're right. The look of the pumpkin doesn't matter, it's the inside that counts," she replied in a snarky tone, placing her hands on her hips. "Which means any old pumpkin will do, even if it's fugly as hell."

You remained quiet while she spoke, pretty used to her attitude by this point. "Seriously, though. We're just going to end up carving it into a Jack-O-Lantern anyway, so why does it need to be perfect?"

She let out an aggravated huff at the question, giving you a look that said, "Are you stupid?" before responding with, "This is kind of, like, my first ever Halloween I've spent doing stupid couples activities. I just want to find one that'll be perfect."

You suddenly felt like the worst girlfriend ever. No wonder she was so deadset on having a perfect pumpkin, she didn't want her first holiday season with a partner that actually cared about her to fall short of her expectations.

"How about we walk back over this way again? Maybe you'll happen to find one that you like," you suggested in a tone that was both soft and understanding while holding your hand out for her to take.

She wanted to roll her eyes and scoff, but she could tell you were really trying your best to make her happy. "Ugh, fine."

Jennifer took your hand, lacing her warm fingers through your cold ones. You had no idea how she always managed to stay so toasty even in such freezing weather conditions, but you weren't complaining.

After what seemed like ages of searching, you were finally able to find a pumpkin that you could both agree on. It was pretty heavy for you, but she didn't even seem to break a sweat when lifting it up.

"You know, I should really be the one carrying it for you so you're not forced to do any hard work," you lightly teased, knowing full well your knees would instantly buckle under the weight.

This time she did roll her eyes, but it was more playful than anything else. "And have you break your back? Absolutely not. I'm not lugging both you and this pumpkin all the way to the emergency room because you decided you wanted to show off."

You grinned at her response, finding it amusing. Despite her aloof personality, you knew if something actually did happen to you she'd be there at an instant in order to help you.

"So how should we carve our pumpkin? Do you want to do the traditional look of a Jack-O-Lantern, or something else?"

"I don't want my pumpkin to look like it was carved by a bunch of nerds, if that's what you're asking," she said with a hair flip, the breeze catching the scent of her perfume and causing it to waft in your direction. You didn't want to sound like a creep, but god did she smell good.

"Well, we can always go online and look for a design there. Maybe Pinterest will have some cool inspos for how we should carve our pumpkin," you began before adding, "Or we could always just freehand it. I mean, if we mess it up we can always just start again with a new one."

Jennifer wasn't even listening at this point, too caught up by the melodious sound of your voice and the exicted sparkle in your eyes to pay much attention to what you were saying. She realized then it didn't even matter how the pumpkin got carved, because she was just happy she got to spend this time with you.

End notes: this was really fun to write <3 I promise I haven't forgotten about Kinktober y'all I'm working on getting a few more days done before I start posting for it again

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[matan4il]

What's your evidence that Joost Klein harassed Eden at ESC? I've only seen evidence of Joost being harassed by Israeli delegation. And he was an assholeish idiot at the press conference but he wasn't the worst. And can people pleaaase stop spreading the smear campaign the EBU put out about him. He made a rude gesture, that's it.

Hi,

I'm gonna admit that if you saw the Dutch performer's behavior at the press conference, IDK how that doesn't constitute harassment? I mean, the part where he didn't like that the ESC organizers made him sit next to the Israeli singer, and he didn't want to be in the same frame with her, so he covered himself with the Dutch flag wasn't just being an asshole, he was publicly humiliating her, transmitting to everyone what a pariah she is, not based on anything she's said and done, but simply based on her nationality (and this little stunt was obviously going to attract attention, meaning he minded being photographed next to her, but he didn't mind being photographed covered up with the flag like that in the same frame with her, making it clear this wasn't him wanting to avoid political stuff).

In my book, that's bad enough, but then he added insult to injury. Eden was asked a disgusting question by a Polish journalist. He wanted to know whether she considered that she would be putting everyone else at ESC at risk (victim blaming much? Eden was the target of a violent mob besieging her hotel room, and turning her participation into an event requiring security. She didn't ask them to do this, she didn't force them to, she's a 20 year old girl, who has dreamt of representing her country at ESC for years, and when she finally gets to, she's being asked to carry the blame for the violence aimed at her due to her nationality... Imagine asking Ariana Grande after her Manchester Arena performance if she took into account that she was risking the lives of all of her fans, because an Islamist decided to use her event for a terrorist bombing that killed 22 young people, and would she never perform again, now that she was aware of the risk? No, that didn't happen, because it's a disgusting, victim blaming, terrorism-rewarding question). The panel host rightfully grasped that this was a political and harassing question, and told her she didn't have to answer it. Joost Klein then shouting at that, "Why not?" was harassment. He was piling up on the victim blaming, on top of showing zero empathy for a fellow performer targeted for her nationality, in a way he never would have agreed to be himself.

(I think that's last assessment is obvious since we now know he thought, even for a split second, that it was okay to threaten with fists a female camerawoman working for ESC, doing her job, filming the performers when they got off stage after their performances. This was done to the other performers as well, IDK what made Klein think his consent was needed in that moment, since to me it seems implied by agree to represent the Netherlands at ESC, but even if he had the right to refused being filmed, I have no idea what made him believe it was okay to use violent threats against an ESC employee).

I'd like to ask you where did you see "evidence" that Klein was harassed by the Israeli delegation? As far as I'm aware, there was only one vid trying to make that claim, and what was seen in that one, was an Israeli journalist (so, not a part of the performing team), working as a European correspondent (he also covered the war in Ukraine, to give you an idea of what that job entails, so he's a "respectable" journalist, not just a guy with a mic interviewing people for his ESC blog), called Dov Gil-Har (as far as I know, he's aligned with the left politically, so not exactly someone likely to be harassing people out of nationalistic sentiments), who was trying to ask Klein questions. Which... the last time I checked is his duty as a journalist. And Klein refused to answer Gil-Har's questions, which is his prerogative (though I do think it was pretty disgusting when some performers, like the Norwegian ones, refused to give interviews to any Israeli media outlets. Since it's based on nationality, it's once again hateful IMO), but then the Dutch team's manager (or whatever he was) really got in Gil-Har's face, and more than that, because I clearly heard Dov saying, "Don't touch me." Keep in mind, this was after Klein's shameful behavior at the press conference, and also after he missed a rehearsal that day, there were rumors circling around it somehow had something to do with Israel, so it is honestly the most natural thing for Gil-Har as a journalist, that he wanted to ask the Dutch team some questions. That should not have ended with him having to say, "Don't touch me," but to further misconstrue this as him harassing the Dutch team...!? WHAT?

It feels like another instance of DARVO, where the attacker/harasser/abuser shifts the fire away by reversing who was doing the harassment and who was being harassed. Everything we saw on camera was harassment of the Israelis, including even the media, while I've not seen one documentation on film of the Israelis harassing others. Plus, I heard the claim that the Israeli team was harassing everyone, yet we know that some performers didn't feel, act or express themselves that way.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[swaqcenix]

hello?.. i'm so glad you're accepting requests! your fanfictions is something. so, can I get nsfw-fanfic with dark!(yandere)Peggy Carter? i mean, i just worship her physical strength, combined with her high level of intelligence and unconditional beauty.

i have no special requirements for the plot, it all depends on your idea, vision. i hope it won't bother you… I will wait patiently for your answer, work, don't worry about it, please.

anddd, I'm well aware that full working days can be very exhausting. so, please take care of your condition and try to be fine. thank you very much :)

also, I love the way you interact with all these people on your blog. you seem like a really comfortable and pleasant person. to be honest, that was almost the main reason I came to you with the request.

I'm just an anxious person and all that.

again, thanks! good luck <3

࿐ ྂTil' the end of Time | Peggy Carter ࿐ྂ

Peggy Carter x fem!reader

Summary: You had one assigned task, help Wanda Maximoff reclaim her boys. Yet entering the multiverse didn't allude you to the concept of falling for someone else entirely, especially when that said woman is on the opposite side and has her mind on other ways to make you her own, no matter the cost nor the price.

Warnings: 18+, dark!peggy carter, yandere!peggy carter x semi-innocent!reader, mentions of obsession and sexual desires, peggy is a whore for reader, slight masturbation (r), semi-public sex, thigh riding, fingering (r)

Pairings: dark yandere!peggy carter x semi-innocent!reader, implied obsessed dark!-ish wanda x naive!reader, kinda forbidden romance(?)

Word Count: 5.4k

DC: cafekitsune

AN: I do apologise this request took me so long to complete, therefore I hope this makes up for it & it's similar/what you wished for. Many thanks nonnie <3

You observed as Wanda found herself lost in her thoughts, within her mind-space and you dare not interrupt the incredible woman.

Her composure mixed with the way she completely handled herself with others allowed you to be enticed into her games, only seeing apart of her she wished for you see.

That being entirely how you found yourself stood along side her as she argued with a man who called himself DR. Strange. Forbidden to ask questions, you only observed- watching from the sidelines.

The older woman forbid you to ask, claiming your brain was too innocent to putty in one's hands to be meddling with things you shouldn't risk falling into. You of course complied, why wouldn't you? If she ordered it you must follow it was the laws of the game.

"Wanda, it's for the better cause enough of this foolishness," Strange tried his best to reason with her.

Her response in retaliation was simply a scoff as Wanda shook her head, almost as if her mind couldn't comprehend the seriousness of his statement. She glanced towards you and you knew that meant don't react, not unless it was of dire need, if the tip of the axis couldn't cope with the situation anymore.

"Don't speak to me of foolishness Stephen Strange," the poisonous venom slipped from her lips.

Had you not known the woman, you'd dared to have run. Sprinting for your life as though the beast of the night, the slender man himself had dared cross through the worlds of the unknown. While you knew she wouldn't hurt you right now, Wanda would within reason. Use you as an outlet and your innocence, your mindset and soul would allow her. Perhaps to a certain extent it would stop, but for now she'd be allowed.

The tension of the room changed and you tilted your head in a way of lost morality. You didn't quite understand the extent of the situations around you, only simply observing as you were commanded to. Your parents needed it, she would protect them if you followed so you did. Your mindset drifted away, lost in the multiverse until the redheads voice brought you back to reality.

"Foolishness is thinking you can cross me, thinking you can even remotely challenge me," she stated and you saw from the corner of your eye the eye-roll of the older man.

A feeling of relief succumb over you when you realised Wanda hadn't inspected nor noticed herself. You weren't actually sure why the relief was settling into your stomach though. Maybe it was due to the oncoming storm you could only cease to imagine she would cause perhaps because you wouldn't be punished, but the feeling was there.

The redhead often liked to punish you for things that tended to not be your fault in any cause of their own. Sometimes it was due to people getting too close for her liking other times it was 'simply because she could,' in her words. Despite your mindset, your very essence knowing it was wrong morally in every way anticipated you allowed her to, you allowed yourself to indulge with the hopes one day you'd escape.

"Your children are not real, it's a fantasy. It's an illusion that you're so far down you've managed to convince yourself that Wanda," the man spoke with a desperation but his voice clung to the side of assertiveness.

The witch simply scoffed before turning her back to him and the child. America as she was called was analysing you trying to work you out in ways nobody could. You couldn't help the sense of guilt you had towards her, your mind dancing away with thoughts of anger and wishing of betrayal.

Wanda simply began casting her magic around the room, not in the deadly sense but in an act of dominance trying to prove her mindset and reasonings. A gasp almost slipped past your lips of as memories of what you presumed to be her children danced and shone through the room illuminating it with a light now lost.

Stephen then turned to you in a way to control the situation, even now he was trying to turn and bend reality into his own, you must admire him for that.

"And her?" His voice was assertive, looking at you in a way of confusion laced with sympathy.

Wanda sneered, her voice laced with such venom at the small concept of him even acknowledging you let alone touching you. Your back shivered at the sound, blood freezing like ice on a frozen lake.

"You don't even look at her, she's none of your concern, Strange," her eyes bored into his own.

His face morphed into one of curiosity mixed with concern. Tilting his head towards you, it's almost like he was trying to analyse your soul and your every movement. An unsettling feeling was stirring in the pit of your stomach.

Your head looked towards Wanda and for once you saw the look of worry in her eyes as she looked at you. It was almost like she knew something was arising before you did, her eyes softening for a moment looking at him.

"No," she looked at Stephen knowing what he was about to do.

"Please," it was the first time you'd heard her voice so gentle and it was unnervingly unsettling.

It ripped into your core into your very soul, your mind and blood freezing on the spot. Everything you knew was changing around you and with a swirl of his hands orange went dancing around your body, captivating you in a sea of a trance, a sea of monsters and a sea of danger.

The blackness over took you within seconds, a voice echoing twice in your head. Wanda's screams inside the back of your mind, yet a voice dragging you through the damage. It was sweetly warm, sweet like candy, but it sounded deadly. It was once again something or someone you felt drawn to.

"Y/N?" The world went silent as a shield of what one would depict as heaven appeared in your vision, before all you saw was a captivating darkness.

Blurring lights and the sound of muffled noises, although being unable to make out what they were- was the first thing you felt. Your head felt dazed and confused, like you'd been underwater or trapped in a nightmare for years on end.

You often wondered if that's how Steve felt coming out of the ice, but then again he was dragged out of the ice 66 years after his time, poor fella.

You squinted your eyes more, not daring to make a sound. Not knowing your location was fearful enough but after spending so much time with Wanda, becoming accustomed to spending time in the shadows was what you did best. The room eventually adjusted to your eyesight and it seemed.. quaint?

To the left of your was a dressing table, littered with soft trinkets. Perfume's laying out in a rather specific order and a photo of someone you'd rather say was beautiful. Beautiful appeared to be an understatement, she seemed absolutely captivating. Something about that photo drew you in, like a mouse heading straight for the trap.

Trying to sit up, you managed before your head felt like it was being hit by a hammer, your vision was still adjusting to it's surroundings. A groan elicited from your lips, echoing through what you felt was an eerily quiet room.

A noise brought you from your thoughts, the sound of an opening door, before it shut once more. Blinking several times, your eyes drifted to the noise in question as you saw her. The woman from what you presumed to be photo stood there, elegantly dressed, the only thing that felt off about her was a belt that held up her outfit, a shield hooked onto the front.

She carried herself through the room with poise and composure, her hands drifting with her almost as if she was royalty from inside and out. You heard her muffled voice next to you and found your head shaking by itself, trying to make hearing easier for yourself.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Relax. Try to get some rest," her voice soothed you in a way you seemed to find alluring.

You tried to turn your head in her direction, your vision still making it hard to depict her features exactly. A touch on your skin made a gasp slip past your plump lips. Her hand was touching your arm, you felt it cold almost like ice, but the ice was soothing your hot pale skin, the contrast was exactly what you needed.

You felt your body almost sigh out as you drifted into a peaceful content slumber. Shutting your eyes and you heard her voice in the distance, soothing you into comfort.

The next time you woke, you heard a kettle boiling from another room. This time, your vision seemed to completely adjust to your surroundings, unlike before.

The four walls that surrounded you seemed to be painted in a sea of green, an earthly kind. It was almost trying to ground you to the exact place you seemed to reside in right now. Your curiosity got the better of you, legs slipping out the covers of what was in fact one of the most comfortable beds you'd laid on.

Standing up for a moment caused your legs to wobble, almost like you were bambi on ice; new to walking a fresh babe to the earth itself. Leaning your body weight on the headboard, you grasped it tightly allowing yourself to adjust to standing once more.

You did wonder if Stephen travelled that way how he himself wasn't like you every time, there was no way you could do that every time.

Deciding to venture out of what had been your cocoon of dreams, heading towards the broken oak door, standing firm and tall in front of you. Grasping the handle you turned and made your way into what appeared to be the sitting room.

Your head tilted to the left slightly as you saw aa kitchen well stocked, pans and pottery laid out neatly. It seemed a comfortable home, but it didn't stop you from being weary. It never stopped Hansel and Gretel eating the sweets especially with the way it seemed appetising so you knew better than that.

"You don't have to creep about you know?"

A voice so soft you might have missed it, gently passed through the room. Your body tensed up and you didn't known whether you'd stopped breathing or not but it certainly felt that way.

Turning your head in the direction of the voice, it lead your eyes straight to a little arm chair. The face was hidden behind a newspaper legs crossed underneath as the woman's high heels perched just above the floor. Slowly, the newspaper lifted itself down and a sudden gasp nearly elicited from your lips at the sight.

You'd been familiar with this face before. Back when you were a previous assistant within the avengers tower you'd heard whispers through the walls, the hallways. Steve's lover. Or was lover and by the gods you couldn't blame him she was indeed stunning.

Her hair was pinned loosely around her, suiting her frame so well as her chocolate curls contained a certain bounce. A burgundy coat above the top of a white blouse completed with a loosely waisted skirt and heels. You'd noticed that her lips in the process had tilted up and it was then you'd realised you'd been staring for a period of time, embarrassingly.

"You've been staring for a period of time darling, aren't you going to say anything? Or at least sit. Please, I do insist," her voice carried while a soft tone a hint of demand was hidden underneath.

Your feet moved before your mind did, before you knew it you were sat cross legged upon a chaise lounge she had in the corner just mere feet away from her. She tilted her head almost in curiosity expecting something from you and you couldn't remain quiet anymore.

"Where am I?" Your voice quivered and you damned yourself for having lack of confidence.

The brunette let out a low hum, placing her newspaper to the side before bringing her hangs to clasp together on her knees.

"At the moment you're in my apartment complex but it's not the time period you're all too familiar with. It's 1946, June the 15th to be exact," her voice carried with such elegance it shivered you to the core.

Your eyes darted around the room unsure of how to even respond to anything. Your mind was spinning with several thoughts, Wanda being one of them.

Yet, almost as if she could read your mind the voice of the ever so graceful woman carried itself through the room, her eyes fixed on you. The newspaper discarded to the side as her eyes bore into your own.

"She doesn't need to be your concern dear, not now and not ever. That much I can promise," her thick british accent sending shivers down your spine and embarrassingly places you wish it wasn't hitting.

Feet carrying you first, you tried to make a bee-line to the door. Why on earth you thought that would make sense you'd never know. After all it was 1946, you'd have the issue of being stuck in a time period that had no care for yourself.

A deep chuckle bounced through the room as the brunette stood up, her heels making her presence known to you. It was as she stood up, her fingers flexed on the door handle you saw how.. flexed she was. Your eyes hadn't meant to but her shoulder's seemed muscular and her upper arms seemed to be bulging with power. Eyes flying all over her figure before bouncing back to her own face you flushed at being caught.

You were just going to have to grin and bare it. That was all you could do, it wasn't like the company was unbearable. Especially when you were stuck with someone who made you feel indescribable feelings all over as such as she did.

Tea was made every morning at 8:15am on the dot, no exceptions. You'd learnt to adjust to Peggy Carter's schedule. Not that you'd had scarcely any choice. Stepping out of line meant the handcuffs came out. It was for your own good, for protection.

Though the days melted and merged into one. You'd never been allowed to touch much of the outside world, for her fear of a pretty thing like yourself being unable to be kept safe from the dangers of men and the prospect of the hatred in humanity. That's what she told you.

Who were you to question any of it? To question her authority. You'd be allowed snippets of the world around you through newspapers and glimpses through window's and the radio's but that was all. Her pretty little pet kept safe through her 4 walls of apartment complex.

She was always out saving the world with her intense captain america shield. Peggy caught you glancing constantly at her muscles, they seemed so well sculpted it was almost like art work.

"Careful sweetheart, if you stare any longer you'll find yourself encapsulated within these muscles yourself," though you weren't sure what that meant.

The drifting sounds of moans and sweat echoed throughout the rooms constantly, yet you dare not venture out at night for fear of punishment. You didn't mind pushing the boundaries of the older woman, but pressing too far could result in consequences you dare not cross.

The green door had always crossed your mind though. The one hidden away with lock and key, unable to be touched, to be seen within. Your mind constantly drifted to it, it was like a sinful prospect one for an innocent mind like your own couldn't touch. You'd been caught many times trying to sneak in.

"Maybe one day you'll learn your lesson hm? I'm only trying to protect your dumb brain from the less of innocence content within those walls," Peggy constantly chided you.

That's how you found yourself now. Reading yet another daily newspaper of the New York Times, leg's crossed underneath you. Lips tilted upwards as you saw another photo of Peggy in her suit, shield clasped tightly in hand admiring her work for the city and almost how she protected the world.

As your eyes darted around the page, you felt an oncoming wetness hit your core that made you feel embarrassingly sick to your stomach in more ways than one. How can one simple woman in a suit, despite it being so well fitted- have such an affect on you?

A cough from the door brought you from your thoughts and you lifted your head up slowly. Peggy stood in a trench coat, doing well to hide her suit underneath but her hands despite her well painted nails seemed so.. strong it took everything in you not to shiver.

"I'm going out for a little while, I shouldn't be too long. Try not to injure yourself while I'm gone won't you sweetheart," Her voice carried such authority laced with something of poison.

All you could do was nod fast, words unable to form past your lips. You were no longer frail and afraid to talk, not always anyway. You'd have responded had it not been for the images dancing through your mind, one that you had no doubt she was aware of. Peggy loved to play games with you and your authority had little to none existent in this world. Not that it ever existed before with Wanda.

Her heels hit the floor in a pace indicating to you wherever she needed to be apparently wasn't planned. In the period of time that you'd resided here it had come to your attention she was never late for anything. If on the very rare occasion she was she always stood by the same motto- 'I'm not late, everyone else is merely early,' with no one daring to argue otherwise.

Deciding to busy yourself as you heard her apartment door shut and the sound of her becoming more and more distant, you'd settled on a little cleaning. What else was there for you to do?

Beginning in the pantry, you dusted the back of the cupboard, moving pots and pan's. The old tea-set hidden away for occasions not yet known to you. It spoke so clearly of Peggy in ways, yet her brawny self often contradicted the dainty tea-set.

As you moved from room to room, the minutes merged into one and you hadn't the faintest idea with how much time had passed. You never did when staying here though, given up hope of seeing Wanda or your own universe once more. Yet, the thought of leaving Peggy left an unsettling feeling in your stomach, twisting and turning it.

As your mind drifted over to the woman who often danced through your thoughts you'd approached her room. You'd scarcely ever come in here, only if you'd had a nightmare like a frightened child.

Even then, she'd escort you back to your own room slipping in with you. Her arms wrapping around you like a beacon- despite the feeing of a predatory approach lingering in the atmosphere.

The red door creaked open, the familiar squeak invading your senses. The smell hit you instantly, a rich taste of perfume's and spices. It smelt like a fragrance of cherry's and cinnamon. It was mixed with something of poisonous ivy the lingering metallic taste of blood and lust.

Feet carrying you forward, your eyes couldn't help but linger through the room. The bedsheets laying in front of you caused your mind to drift to places that were dark and sinfully dirty. It was wrong, toxic and barbaric but you couldn't resist.

Moving towards her vanity mirror with an auburn desk, you tried your best to clean and not allow your mind to succumb to disdainful feelings. Fingers drifting with a duster, until your hand grazed over her red laced panties.

Fingers touching the undergarments your mind screamed at you to stop, you weren't a prying kind. Peggy would scold you perhaps even kill you if she discovered what you were doing.

The thought's of calling her Captain Carter as her brazen hands, muscles and mouth moved over you. It was wrong, unthinkable but your mind was doing the thinking without intention. Your fingers had found their way into your underwear, rubbing you fast on your clit, needing the stimulation.

Moans slipped past your lips as your mind was falling so far underneath the covers of Peggy Carter; the lustful thoughts of her muscles, her tanned skin and that smart brain of hers. You'd almost fallen down onto the sheets themselves throwing all care of being caught to hell. That was until it caught your attention from the corner of your eye.

A silver key hung upon the the nail on the wall dangling in the light. Your hand lifted slowly from your underwear your innocent mind once more taking over as your feet moved before your mind. It was shaped in such a way of an elderly metal anyone would deem it out of place.

Instantly you thought of that one thing, the one forbidden moment of this apartment not even you had seen her enter as far as your knowledge went. At least not with your presence around Peggy. That one oak-green door. It was seen as the most important part of the apartment that remained untouched by you, forbidden fruit that you wanted to taste.

How or why you did not know, but your legs seemed to move without a sense of thought, moving without your mind instructing so. Drifting until you stood upon it, that one forbidden room calling you like a shadow of death in the night.

Shaking hands rose from your pocket, key clasped tightly within your nimble fingers. The silver object looked worn down, almost making your insides twisted and blood cold. Why, you were unsure perhaps it was due to the fear it wouldn't fit. Yet if it did, what would you find beyond.

Without second guessing yourself, the silver rusty key slit into the hole without hesitation. Your hands jittered with exhilaration and nerves, but it was too late to turn back now.

The door shifted from its hinges slowly creaking open, instinctively making you shut your eyes for some unknown involuntary reason. Shuffling into the room, floorboards creaked beneath your shoes and each breath you released made you shiver to your core.

Creaking open an eyelid you were met with an aurora of a red dimmed room, barely seeable to the naked eye. No other colours seemed to shine through, bare the slightest light from the door you had now stepped foot through. Turning your head to the left a glimpse of something hanging in a rather clipped row had caught your eye.

A strung of photo's lay out in a pegged line, seemingly drying off as though recently hung there. Others beneath them in a watery substance to which you were assumed to waiting for development. As your feet dragged your body forward, heading further into the room you came to a halt. A strange sense of bile rose up to your stomach, good or bad you were unaware until your eyes focused further upon the images.

A deep cold ice, ran through your veins as you focused on the pictures in front of your very eyes, heart dropping into the pit of your stomach. Everywhere you now looked you saw them all, everything.

Photo's of yourself hung on the walls, lining the string and if you looked down at the one's being developed you could make the outline of your facial shape.

Some seemed merely innocent enough, tea preparing in the kitchen taken from all at different angles. Cooking, reading even shoe polishing and cleaning seemed to picture you on her walls. Yet they were the least of the incriminating elements of the bunch. Turning on your heels ever so slightly you saw the others.

Painted upon the thin string was photo's of you in compromising positions, some asleep, covers half pulled down. Others taken from some form of secret angle as you were bathing in what you assumed to be secrecy. Every aspect of your life you presumed to be private no longer seemed so and you weren't sure whether you could stand it.

Hands drifted along the images, an unexplainable pit filled your lower region causing a heavy blush to form on cheeks, filling you up with desire and a heavy need. Yet, you should not feel this way. The older woman had invaded you, sneaked and snooped in areas one should not dare, yet it thrilled you.

The door behind your body creaked shut and your entire body froze up in fear, as though death itself had walked over your grave. It couldn't be? You didn't even hear Peggy enter the apartment, let alone walk around the floorboards.

Eyes fixated on the photo's you body shivered, not daring to move from your position, feet fixated on one point of the floorboard. You felt shuffling behind you, silent like a predator obsessed and desperate for its prey.

An aroma of her perfume invaded your senses from behind, her breath heavy on your neck. It was like a metallic malice drifting around the room, drawing you into the forbidden touch.

"I see you're incapable of following my instructions hm," her sultry but strict voice broke the inevitable silence.

"I'm um.." You began to stutter but a hand clasped over your mouth silencing you instantly.

Her perfectly red painted nails curled just perfectly around your plump lips, for some reason allowing even further heat to hit your core. It embarrassed you, you shouldn't feel this way considering you weren't really residing her by choice. Yet something about Peggy made you fall deeper into her trap.

"It was inevitable you'd be unable to resist the door of temptation eventually. I was merely waiting how long it would take you," she whispered huskily.

Her hands drifted down your waist, her face now pressed into the crook of your neck causing your entire body to shake with adrenaline. Her nose breathed in your scent and Peggy let out a heated heavy sigh, causing your legs to go to jelly.

"You see these photo's of you hm?" She asked and you could tell it wasn't a rhetorical question.

However, your brain was so foggy all you could do was merely nod as her teeth very lightly nipped at the nape of your neck causing a sharp gasp to slip past your lips. Though you couldn't see her, it was easy to guess a devious smirk was curled up on her face as her hands drifted down to your hips.

"This was what I saw everyday while you traipsed around my apartment, morning noon and night. You sweet little essence carrying through my 4 walls. Wanda thought she had you, she never touched you did she?" Peggy asked quizzically as her hands yanked your hips tighter to your own.

A small whimper left your lips as you tried to tilt your head into her direction. Yet, that earned you a small slap on your inner thigh and a moan gasped past your plump lips.

"Oh sweet girl, you're so innocent you don't know what I mean by touch you do you?" Her voice sounded possessive now almost like a venom had taken over poisoning through her veins.

"N-Not fully, I don't think you should-" you tried to mumble through her hand but it was clasped tightly over your mouth.

Her thick muscles drifted down your body, strong hands caressing the skin of your hips setting your bones alight. A slick sticky wetness began to form in a place that made you blush, one you felt once before when Wanda had accidentally walked in on you changing.

Yet, she merely looked you up and down like a pawn in a game, no serious interest within you and slammed the door shut. Peggy was different, the older woman seemed to want to worship you like the gods had created you for herself to admire and fawn over.

Her thigh slid between your legs causing your head to fly back in ecstasy and a deep chuckle left Peggy's lips. Her fingers marvelled over your now revealing skin, since she'd unknowingly to yourself ripped your pants off.

"Oh, but I think I should teach you a lesson. I may have wanted you to find this room, but did I give you permission?"

A low whimper left your lips which earned a hard growl from Peggy and her knee pressed harder in between your core, almost painfully as she cupped her cheek with her firm fingers.

"I asked you a question, answer it darling," she instructed firmly.

"No, no you didn't."

With that her hand slipped into your underwear rubbing hard and fast without mercy, causing you to cry out. If it wasn't for her strong grip on you, your legs would have turned to absolute jelly.

Peggy slipped to fingers into you, pumping ferociously causing you to let out a muffled scream. You'd never felt this feeling before, it was pleasurable. It was painful but like a thousand butterflies dancing within your stomach travelling down your body.

Shaking you found your own hips jerking up to meet her hard thrusts earning you a significantly hard bite on the side of your neck. Instantly, you knew it was bound to create a deep purple mark on your skin, as Peggy marked her territory. Her hands roaming your body, her muscular biceps you felt behind you now slick with sweat, the scent driving you into bliss.

A tight knot formed within your stomach as Peggy added yet another finger, her thrusts getting more intense with further intention. It was clear she wanted to possess your body, obsess over it in fact. Yet, there was nothing you could do to stop her, no power you held, no gods could halt the course of events unfolding. Even as you screamed her name, like the 4 walls were the only thing that could hear you she didn't slow down and a vision of white before darkness fell.

All you could hear was whispers of her voice, "That's my girl."

The painful sounds of shouting was what awakened you from your own mind, distant voices and the clashing of battles closing within you. Eyes flickering, for a moment assuming it was a dream, yet as your eyes flickered down you realised the dreaded yet somehow anticipating truth.

It was anything, but a dream. Eyes flickering down, you felt her strong hands once again caressing your skin, but your location was different now. Surroundings seeming off, vision trying to focus once more. A realisation hit you that Peggy had brought you to the midst of a battlefield with none other than Stephen Strange & Wanda Maximoff.

She was holding her shield, stretching it to an unbelievable degree as her other hand caressed your skin roughly. A sharp pain hit your lower core, glancing down realising she was making you ride her thigh. Not only that, you were hers to obsess over in front of everyone & while you should feel shame, you did not.

Instead as she made you fall over the edge again and again, not holding back once. Wanda and Stephen could do nothing but attempt to fight Peggy to gain you back from the clutches of the older one's arms. She whispered dirty thoughts within your ear, painting your face into a beetroot red colour.

"Imagine my shield being your way of getting off sweetheart, just look at how beautiful you look on my thigh," She continued to whisper somehow her strength being able to fight against the others.

Peggy was many things, possessive, obsessive and completely determined to keep you within her grasp. Even as her body was slick with sweat from fighting and using you as her outlet she was like a beauty of a goddess sent from heaven and hell to use you as she pleased. A constant battle of your vision fading in and out as you let the strength of the woman carry you into your bliss over and over again, broke everything in you making something more.

"Mine," was all you heard from the woman caressing your skin roughly, her callous hands sending you into a starlight of galaxy releasing all over her thigh once more.

[novankenn]

The TA -- Joan(Jaune) Arc

Artwork Inspired Posts - First / Second / Third / Fourth

(Artwork created/owned by @pilot-boi, No rights Claimed/Implied by the author of this story)

Joan(Jaune) wanted to leave as soon as they reached the infirmary, but she choose to stay. She was a little worried about what happened to Ms Nikos, but she was more afraid of what Aunt Glynda would do if she returned with out the trio of students she was supposed to be supervising.

After a quick look over, Pyrrha was roused with the use of some smelling salts. The nurse then informed them she would return in about fifteen minutes for one final check before letting them leave. So as Pyrrha's teammates, well really just one teammate unloaded barrage after barrage about what happened, and how she was feeling. Joan(Jaune) sat in a very uncomfortable plastic chair, tapping her foot on the tiled floor.

"So..." Pyrrha looked past Nora at Joan(Jaune), "You are really a girl?"

"Yes."

"Really?" Pyrrha hesitantly asked again.

"Yeah. Is that a problem?" Joan(Jaune) answered standing up and approaching the bed Pyrrha was laid upon. "Like seriously, why..."

"The boobs, or the lack of them." Nora interrupted.

"I have boobs!" Joan(Jaune) snapped.

"Not from what I..." Nora didn't get a chance to finish as Joan(Jaune) grabbed her by the wrists, pulling her hands towards her chest. Nora's eyes went wide when she felt the heavily softness under her hands, "You do... "

"Anyone else need to feel me up?" Joan(Jaune) asked as she released her grip on Nora.

"Can I do that again?" Nora asked.

"What? No!"

"Please?" Nora begged, "I'll share my pancakes with you?"

"Huh?" Joan(Jaune) took a step back a little creeped out by the orange haired girl. "Is she okay?"

"That's just how Nora is." the lone male in the room, informed Joan(Jaune). "You'll get used to it. I'm Ren by the way."

Joan(Jaune) gave Ren a sideways look.

"I'm sorry, about all this." Pyrrha offered with a soft and sad smile. "I didn't mean to upset you..."

"You annoyed me. Not upset." Joan(Jaune) responded, before asking, "So what was your malfunction?"

"Excuse me?" Pyrrha asked as Ren acted as a buffer between Nora's grasping hands, and Joan(Jaune).

"Just what I asked."

"I don't... understand the question?"

'Why did you freak when you found out I was a woman?" Joan(Jaune) asked, while leaning in to look Pyrrha right in the eyes. "You have pretty eyes."

"Because of stuff like that!" Pyrrha yelped her face growing flushed with color.

"What not used to be complimented?"

"No... it's... because... um... fuck it!" Pyrrha snapped. "You say stuff like how I'm hot and shit, and I'm get interested and then... I like men! I can't be attracted to a woman, even if her ass if so delicious!"

"Okay." Joan(Jaune) stood up straight, sucked on her front teeth before speaking. "If you like guys, that's great. I like guys, but that does NOT meant you can't find people of the same sex also attractive."

"But..."

"Are you really that repressed?" Joan(Jaune) asked, with a roll of her eyes. "Listen Pyrrha. I can find you hot. I can find Nora adorable, and Ren handsome. Do you follow?"

"I'm adorable? and Ren's handsome? Way to put out the moves Joan(Jaune)-Joan(Jaune)!" Nora cheered finally having given up on molesting Joan(Jaune)'s chest again.

Ren just stood there one eyebrow raised.

"I think so?" Pyrrha answered.

"Good. NOW just because you like my ass doesn't mean your suddenly going to try and make a move on me. It means you find something attractive about me. You follow?"

"Yes?"

"No you're not." Joan(Jaune) sighed. "Do you find men or women more desirable?"

"Ah... um..."

"Did you grow up in a convent or something?" Joan(Jaune) sighed out. "Fine. would you rather do this with a guy?"

Before Pyrrha could answer Joan(Jaune) rounds about hooks her hands behind Ren's head and neck and pulls him into a heated, breath stealing kiss. It last only for about ten seconds, before Joan (Jaune) breaks contact.

"You... kissed... Rennie..." Nora whimpered as she just stood there, watching her life long friend weave on his feet.

"Or would you do it with a woman?" Joan(Jaune) asked as she closed on Pyrrha, slipping her arms around Pyrrha's shoulders and neck, to give her a sizzling deep kiss.

Pyrrha's mind screamed in confusion. Joan(Jaune) was kissing her! She was being kissed and the lips felt so soft and tasted delicious. Her tongue... WAIT her tongue!!!

Nora stood in utter shock, as Joan(Jaune) had moved from making out with Rennie, to some heavy duty face-sucking with Pyrrha. The lip-lock broke after again only lasting about ten seconds or so.

"As you can see. I'm fine with girls or boys... did she just pass out again?" Pyrrha's eyes had rolled up into her head and she lay limp on the bed, her lips slightly parted, and moist with saliva.

"RENNIE!" Nora shrieked when Ren just finally collapsed to the floor in a limp heap. "KISS OF DEATH!!!! KISS OF DEATH!!!"

"Huh?" Joan(Jaune) turns from Pyrrha to see Ren on the floor. "Shit!"

"I must feel their heavenly form again before you steal my soul with your succubus ways!" Nora cried out as she lunged for Joan(Jaune), her hands in front of her, with her fingers spread wide.

"SHIT!" Joan(Jaune) cried out as she tried to keep away from the suddenly very energetic organette.

(A/N - Okay I've been pushing in my head for a female!Jaune stealing a kiss from Ren in front of Nora, since forever. It has now happened. My life is complete! Wonder what Weiss is going to say with Nora's new fascination? Any way hope you're all enjoying this unplanned chaos.)

[mylove-thresher]

You should totally ramble to me about ships you like :3 However many you like I’m just curious uwu

(I didn’t answer this as soon as I got it bc I was thinking about what to say lolz 😭)

tbh I like most ships as long as it’s not problematic or I find them weird/that they don’t have much chemistry. I also don’t mind poly or platonic ships (duh). I’d be sitting here all day yapping ab the ships I like/am okay w bc frankly it doesn’t have to strictly be character A X character B, I think it could also be character A X character C, etc. as long as it’s not any wrong. I won’t be going apeshit(/neg) over ships that I don’t like as much or have like a 2 year age gap. I mean, I think it starts to get weird when there’s 4 years of difference. I think people do too much when they hate on less popular ships smh if it’s nothing weird then let ppl have fun w their little kitty witties smh 😞

Huge yapping starts here vvv

Some ships I like tho r a lot of Ghibli movie couples in general bc they’re just super cute and I love the writing Ghibli does for its characters (I want what they have.). I also like Yukito/Yue X Touya and Syaoran X Sakura from CCS but that doesn’t mean I don’t also like Tomoko X Sakura (pretty sure Tomoko implied to like her anyway). I also like some other side ships from CCS but I barely remember their names bc it’s been so long since I’ve watched it and Netflix took it down 💔. CCS ships r cute in general I think, I’ve never seen any problematic ship (except that one girl X her fucking teacher. Pookie. You’re like 13. Don’t date ur teacher. And she was so pretty too bro why did they make her a questionable character 😭). And now. Getting to jjba my beloved. Since I unfortunately focus so so so much on p5 those are the only ships I’ll yap ab 😢. Huge honorable mention to Jonathan X Erina (jonaeri) tho they’re super cute together even if a lot of ppl said they barely have screen time and stuff :3. Anyway. Part 5. I honestly don’t care much about ships in la squadra as long as they had some form of interaction y’know (I don’t pay too much attention to La squadra anyway 💔). Usually ppl get really divided when it comes to Bucci gang ships tho. Honestly I’d rather see them all as a friend group that see each other as siblings to avoid all that shipping, but I admit I really like some pairings, like fugonara, bruabba, giotrish, futrish, naratrish, etc. I really don’t mind it that much (I don’t rlly ship mista w anyone bc I just don’t think there’s anybody matching his freak 😭). I mainly ship fugonara as you can see just bc to me it makes a lot of sense even if I also see them under platonic light. If there’s fugo, there’s narancia, and if there’s narancia, there’s fugo. I just find that rlly cute :3. I also like their backstories and how they tie together and the narancia death scene ripped my heart out in the anime so (IM CRYING AGAIN JUST FROM THINKING AB IT STOP 💔). Again that doesn’t mean I dislike the other ships, I just don’t pay much attention to them or think they had as much chemistry or time together. I love seeing my fave characters tho, so it’s not like I won’t like the content if there’s like gionara or something. Honestly I like seeing ppl have fun w their cutie patooties as long as it’s not too controversial, once again. It’s rlly a shame that ppl can jump at each others throat bc they disagree on a mere ship. It’s literally not gonna alter your life. Also, bc I say a ship some bucci gang characters doesn’t mean I don’t also ship them platonically. (I’ll type it like it’s ao3 tags lolz. Pretty sure & instead of / is for platonic, right?) I rlly like Narancia&Mista&Fugo (torture dance trio is literally the best friendship ever to me bc wdym you did a coordinated dance w ur homies to torture someone that’s so cool). There are also a few others, but they don’t come to mind rn (and there’s a f,y in my room annoying me.) You know what I think I gave jjba way too much attention. I also like Mimi X Sheshe (my fav lesbians fr 😍) from mermaid melody pichi pichi pitch. They tried censoring them by making them “sisters”, but they were blatantly and very obviously lesbians. Like vro. They are touching each other so homoerotically and have complimenting colours. And I think that’s most of it…

I don’t wanna make this any longer than it is so um. Yeah. This was a ramble. I didn’t realize it was so long lolz. But yeah it’s basically that :3

[yangqisarchive]

best friend's brother

pairing- liu yangyang x fem!reader

au- college

warnings↓

plot- swearing, implied drugging(yang drugs y/n's drink), pet names, ex-lovers, fluff at the end, and yangyang & ningning are siblings

smut- noncon to dubcon, making out, "just the tip" (it was not just the tip😭), unprotected sex (be safe pls), creampie, begging, degradation, yang has a big dick, yang gets soft at the end, that's all i thinkk, lmk if i missed anything!

if you don't like it, don't read it.

a/n- haii, another fic or whatevs lol, this was originally gonna be a drabble, but i felt like it was too long to make it a drabble, so i just went ahead and finished it

ningning begged you not to go to her house when she wasn't there because her brother was off limits. but? you still did it anyway. so, now you are back at the house. the room spinning. you had a bit of alcohol with yangyang that afternoon, which explained why you were so sleepy and weak. but it didn't explain why yangyang was still trying to put his thick dick in you. especially after you told him to stop a numerous number of times.

"y-yangyang, it's not going to fit!" you cried out, pushing meekly against his chest in attempts to get him off of you. but he didn't bulge. he was adamant about putting his dick into you. hot tears ran down your face trying to fight him off of you but he was completely unfazed by the scratches you left all over his arm. "why are y-you doing this to me?" you questioned him. but still, he didn't answer. yangyang was so focused on putting his dick into you that he wasn't even paying attention to your questions.

he cursed himself for not preparing you first, but he didn't have time. he already knew you'd fight him off so he had to hurry up and take what he wanted. which was his motive. you wouldn't give him what he wanted again so he took it from you. i mean, what kind of bullshit excuse is "i don't want to hurt ningning" ?

he knew you wanted it deep down, you just acted like you didn't. he put one hand over your mouth as he heard ningning's footsteps. "be quiet y/n. god, i don't even know why you're acting like you don’t want this as much as i do." he shushed you. "you're making it harder for yourself.. just sit back and let me fuck you." he told you.

that was the most he had said to you all night considering he just snatched you by your wrist and pulled you into his room. you were about to give up, tears streaming down your face. "stop crying slut. you know you want my dick in you because you're nothing but a cockdrunk whore, yeah?" he chuckled. you shook your head no. "yangyang, who are you talking to?" ningning asked, walking up to his door. "i'm on the game! leave me alone." he lied. ningning's sigh was audible but she left him alone after that.

"see slut? you almost got us caught. you're acting like you don’t want me, yet your pussy is louder than your pleas for me to stop." he laughed. you were so embarrassed that he was right. "yangyang, please. don't want it." you cried. "shut up." he sternly said, moving your hands out of the way. yangyang pinned your hands above your head, sticking his tip into you.

you let out a moan at this, and yangyang slapped your thigh. "just the tip, baby. just let me fuck you with my tip." he said, taking his tip out. he then slid his dick up your wet pussy. "please." you begged quietly. "just hurry up and get it over with." you cried out. "just the tip, i swear. you gonna let me fuck you or you gonna keep fighting it?" he asked, letting your hands go. "just fuck me." you told him, giving in.

"good girl." he praised, putting his tip in your wet cunt. he knew you weren't prepped to take him, so he shoved two fingers down your throat before giving you no warning and slamming into you. thankfully, your scream was muffled, so ningning didn't hear you. you slapped him on his chest, protests inaudible. yangyang then pulled his fingers out of your mouth, placing his hand on your hip whilst the other was occupied on your waist.

"y-you said just the tip!" you whined as he repeatedly slammed out and into you. yangyang buried his face into your neck, still thrusting in and out of you slowly. "it felt too good. just give in. you know you want to." he whispered, lips grazing your earlobe. you nod, covering your face.

"see? i knew you wanted it. i wonder what ningning would think if she knew her best friend was fucking her older brother." he stated, pushing down on your stomach. "should i tell her? record it and send it to her? or tell her to come in here now?." yangyang asked, teasingly.

you shook your head no quickly. "p-please no," yangyang just laughed, speeding his thrusts up. you just laid there, letting yang do whatever he wanted as tears still poured down your face. you had no control anymore, and neither did you have any energy to fight back. yangyang noticed your tears, feeling a bit of sympathy for you.

he noticed your silent cries and your inability to go against his assault. he reached down, wiping your tears away. "you look so pretty when you cry." he commented, pushing your hair behind your ear. he placed a small kiss on your lips before another one. "i'm sorry that i had to do this to you, but you wouldn't give yourself up to me again, so i had to do it my way." he spoke softly.

you knew it was wrong, so why did you melt at his words? yangyang placed kisses along your jawline, wiping the little bit of tears left rolling down your flushed cheeks. his soft gestures and words didn't match his brutal pace he used, fucking into you.

"yangie, 'm gonna cum." you whispered, looking him in his eyes. he smiled at your nickname for him. "go ahead, baby. cum for me." he replied, as you came over his cock, a white ring forming around the base of it. "can i cum in you?" he asked, slowing his thrusts down. you nodded, grabbing his hand.

your fingers intertwined as his hips stuttered, shooting his cum into you. he was still thrusting into you before pulling out and pushing his cum back into your cunt with his thumb. he pulled his pants up, sitting by you. "are you okay?" he asked, stroking your hair. you nodded, and he wrapped his arms around you.

"just shaken up a bit." you responded in all honesty. you melted into his embrace. "sit up. i gotta get you cleaned up." he kissed your forehead, standing up and looking in the hallway, before walking out and opening the bathroom door. he turned the water on, squeezing bath gel into it. he walked back into his room, helping you up. "come on, walk slowly." he said, walking you to the bathroom. yangyang shuts the door behind him, taking your shorts and shirt off.

you let him do all of the work before stepping into the tub and sitting down. yangyang got a washcloth, making it soapy, and sat on the mat next to the tub, cleaning you up. you sat there quietly as he cleaned you. you gathered your thoughts before speaking. "yangie, i think i wanna get back together." yangyang's eyes lit up, but he brushed it off. "you're just talking crazy." he laughed dryly.

you shake your head no. "i wanna get back together.." you repeated, looking at him. "we'll talk in the morning. you're not in the right headspace right now." he answered. you nodded as he finished cleaning you up, and he wrapped you in a towel, taking you back down the hallway as his eyes met with ningning's. there was a moment of silence before ningning spoke.

"yangyang, y/n, what the fuck!"

[chroniclesofbts]

Call Me Home Part 3

Idol hybrid BTS x hybrid foreigner reader

Warnings: implied sexual themes, smut, angst, fluff, polyamorous relationship

If you’re not 18+ please, do not interact.

As always, my works do not represent BTS in any way, this is purely a work of fiction.

*short chapter, I cut this part in half because it was so long*

Y/N's POV

Coming to, I can hear voices around me and an annoying beeping. Listening intently I hear the words, "not heat", "too risky", "trauma", and "management". The monitor attached to my heart gave away that I was waking up, the beeping increasing. My eyes flutter open, the light blinding me initially.

"Hey, welcome back. You really scared me there" Jin said softly, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. "I thought my face was just too handsome for you" he joked to lighten the mood.

"How are you feeling Miss... ?" A woman in scrubs asked

"Fine, head is a little heavy, I'm a little sore too. What happened?" I questioned

"You passed out in the shower with Jin. You didn't hit your head or anything, he managed to hold you up and call Jungkook for help." I flushed at the thought of Jungkook seeing me naked. "Can I ask you some personal questions?" The doctor asked gently, "Your pack can stay here or leave if you feel uncomfortable at any time"

"Um, s-sure" I stuttered

"Do you have any nightmares?"

"Oh, uh yeah, most people do though" I joke

"How many a week?" She says writing things down on a clipboard.

"Uh it depends, maybe like 5?" Jin's hand finds mine, and holds it in a comforting manor.

"Do you ever feel numb?" She continues

"Yeah, I guess if I get too overwhelmed I do." I answer honestly

"Do you feel like you startle easily? Have trouble concentrating?"

"Sometimes" I answer, starting to close in on myself.

"Last question, where do you see yourself in the future?"

"I mean, how far out? I see myself with the pack, for as long as I have left" I answer, feeling Jimin lean his head on my shoulder from the right side where he was sitting.

"I see, thank you for answering my questions, I will talk to your packs leader and you should be able to go back to their dorms in the next few hours." She smiled, motioning to Namjoon to follow her.

"How long was I asleep?" I ask Jimin

"3 days, you must have been tired and your body was recovering from the shock to your system with the pills you took." Jimin explained.

"Why was she asking all of those questions?" I ask him nervously, "Did I do something wrong, are you going to replace me?" I whimper

"No! No, baby, never" Jin said, squeezing my hand. "We just want to make sure we can help you, make sure we can be enough for you"

"Oh, why?" I mumble confused as I feel myself blush.

"Because you deserve the perfect pack" Jimin said, pushing his nose further into my scent gland.

"Wait, I thought I was in heat" I look at Jin, who looks away bashfully.

"Your body has never had a heat, it wasn't ready for a heat, your body was fighting the medicine, it caused you to get sick. Right before you passed out I could smell the shift in your hormones, I just didn't figure it out until you passed out. I, o-overwhelmed your b-body. I c-caused it, I am so sorry" He cried, "we don't deserve to be your pack, we couldn't even take care of you as soon as we got you"

"Jin, I don't blame you. It's not your fault, how could anyone have known? You caught me, right? I didn't get a concussion. It's okay"

Before he could respond, Namjoon came in the door followed by a man I had never met before.

"This is Sejin, one of our managers. After talking with the medical staff, we think it's best to start you on a month of medicine to encourage a natural heat cycle. This will also give your body time to adjust to being in a pack, as well as let your mind work through everything that has happened recently. With the rush of moving and education, now this, your body and mind are overwhelmed. We want to make sure you're completely healthy and ready." Namjoon explained as the nurses started to detach me from all of the medical equipment.

"Take it easy for the first week, bed rest for the first 5 days at least. Your body is recovering and we don't want anything to delay the process." The nurse explained.

"Here, we brought you some clothes, its ours, but we will get you your own soon" Jungkook said, handing me some clothes that smell like all of them. He helped me up with a blush and led me to the connected bathroom to change. I quickly changed into the sweatpants and shirt, pulling the drawstrings so they fit move comfortably. I opened the door and found him waiting outside, eyes widening, pupils dilating, at me in their clothes. He extended his hand to me and started to walk me over the the wheelchair.

"I don't need that" I said, trying to pull out of his grip.

"Okay" Jungkook smirked, sweeping me off my feet, "but you can't walk, doctors orders. I prefer this way too" he winked.

"W-wait, actually, the chair l-looks fine" I stuttered through my embarrassment.

"Sorry, cutie, I like this way" He smiled, staring at me with a fondness I haven't seen yet. He carries me through the lobby and outside to the waiting car. Jimin's mouth dropped open as he whined about how unfair it was that he got to carry me, causing a few others to grumble too. He hands me to Namjoon, who pulls me close in his lap, shoving his face into my neck and relaxing. The drive was filled with lots of joking and flirting, I swear my face was always flushed. Jin steals me away from Namjoon to carry me inside and up the stairs to their room. It has a large bed where they obviously sleep all together, lots of pillows and blankets resembling a den. Jin gently lowered me into their den, showing through actions that he could care for me. I immediately relaxed, realizing that even being surrounded by predators, I was safe. I let my eyes flutter closed, my body pulling me under with exhaustion. The last thing I register is a body laying down gently next to me, in their animal form, their purring lulling me deeper into dreamland.

Taglist open (please let me know if I missed you): @dachshunddame @minjianhyung @minhanbyeol

[the-tomcat-disposable]

Short fic based off of this by @nami-ramen because I couldn't stop giggling about it

Summary: the Waldos take turns tossing around the detective. Why not play with their food a little bit?

TW: non consensual tossing?? I guess. Very briefly implied murder.

No beta read we die like Waldo's victims.

Shoutout to the dumb little joke me and @wyvernet made once about the Waldo clones calling each other who/what/when/where/how

The detective was by no means a morning person. They blinked their eyes open and groaned at the tightness in their head as their alarm blared obnoxiously. Ever since they were assigned to Waldo's case, they'd been getting headaches more frequently. They hoped that this wasn't the start of one. They reached over to the alarm clock and hit whatever button their hand landed on first to silence its beeping. Hesitantly, they carefully slid out of bed, wishing they could stay longer in their wife's hold, but their job was important.

After stretching and popping all their stiff joints, they yawned as quietly as they could, giving Wenda's sleeping form a gentle kiss on the cheek before dragging themselves to their shared closet. What Waldo would do to make their day worse is a mystery that they did not look forward to.

...

They did enjoy the morning commute to their office. The crisp air of autumn and the orange leaves illuminated by the rising sun made life feel so surreal. The morning news played through the radio, reminding people to stock up on candy for trick-or-treaters with a warning for parents to check their kids' bags afterwards for drugs and such. They detective sighed at that— it really was never as big of an issue as the news reported it to be, and they had the statistics to prove it, but they knew that there were people out there who were the reason that the lady reporting it needed to say it every year. They briefly wondered if taking a job as a news reporter would be better than the constant stress that Waldo puts them under.

"Make sure you stay warm! The weather this week—" the detective groaned as they tuned it out. Cold, yes, just like it was for the previous weeks. They saw frost settling on the ground and their breath forming a cloud when they exhaled, not to mention that they felt like a block of ice. That was plenty to know that they probably should have borrowed one of Wenda's scarves today, but it was too late. They had already pulled into a parking lot behind a coffee shop and noticed a barista catch sight of their car on the way in and run back to the kitchen.

Something rustled the leaves of the hedge behind the detective's car as they slammed the door and locked the car. They glared at the now unmoving leaves for a short while, always suspicious of a potential Waldo attack, and sighed with some disappointment when a cat jumped out of it and mrowed a greeting at them. It blended in very well with the orange and brown of it's surroundings.

"Hey, little guy—" they glanced at the cat's name tag, "Egg. You here for coffee too?" the detective questioned her, and she nipped their leg and ran off with a hiss.

"Ow! Rude! This is why I prefer dogs," they scolded. They swore they heard a chuckle as they walked to the front of the nearly empty coffee shop and entered. Thankfully, the barista had already had their coffee ready.

"Your coffee to go, Mr 'black with enough caffeine to kill a horse,'" the barista joked, wearing the forced smile that they were trained to wear, though it seemed genuine when they saw them. The detective reached into their coat and pulled $12 from their wallet to hand to the barista.

"It's still $12, correct?" the barista hummed an 'uh-huh' as they took the money and tossed it into the register. "Such a shame that this place isn't flooded with customers. It's that season when people usually do."

The detective sipped their coffee as they chatted with the barista. They'd attempted to ask questions about the Waldo case, though the detective would not answer them. A cat— maybe the same cat that bit them— yowled from outside, and the detective quickly thanked the barista before rushing back outside towards the parking lot to investigate the commotion.

"Ah, detective, hello! Fine morning, isn't it?" the tall, striped figure stood beside their car, holding the cat by the scruff and away from himself. He balanced on his cane and the cat yowled in terror as Waldo's grin widened impossibly wide before changing to look more human again. He dropped the cat and she scattered away faster than the detective had ever seen a cat run.

The detective blinked at Egg as she left then back at Waldo, who had moved slightly closer. The detective moved backwards the same amount of steps and silently prayed that they wouldn't meet the same fate as his predecessor who they considered to be a mentor. They chugged down a few more gulps of their coffee and felt it as the caffeine and heat properly woke them up.

"Couldn't you wait until I clocked in?" the detective scoffed. Waldo kept his distance and laughed over the sound of faint static from somewhere nearby.

"I believe this is a special occasion, detective. Why wait?" Waldo stepped closer. "Do you know what day it is, detective?"

"Fuck o—" the detected hissed as they stepped backward, cut off by long arms swooping them up bridal style. The surprise caused them to drop their coffee on the cement as they yelped at the sight of a second Waldo grinning mischievously at them. Would this be the end for them?

"Heads up!" was the last thing they heard before being hurled into the air with surprising force from such a lanky creature. They squeezed their eyes shut to brace themselves for the pain of the impact against solid ground but they hadn't landed against the cement. They opened their eyes to stare up at Waldo, then quickly afterwards, noticed three more clones standing in a circle. Their canes were each hooked around one arm as they held them both open.

They quickly understood what was happening as they attempted to escape Waldo's hold, though it was futile as his grip only tightened.

"Detective, struggling will get you hurt," Waldo scolded with a tsk-tsk-tsk. Before the detective could ask why he was tossing them back and forth between himself, Waldo shouted to one of them. They shouted curses as they were hurled into the air repeatedly with calls of "Where, catch!" or "How, catch!" which the detective gathered to be nicknames these pretend humans used for each other.

This continue for a while, until the Waldo nicknamed "What" had shouted to "Who" to catch. "Who" seemed different from the rest. The most notable difference being that his cane seemed lighter than the others'. They didn't have time to think on this, as they were thrown into the air once again before landing with a thud against "Who," both of them landing on the cement.

The Waldos all groaned with displeasure at this as three of them had cursed and disappeared with a crackle of electricity. The detective stood up to get a proper look at him. He was different. He looked almost just like the rest of the Waldos, except for small hairs above his lip. Before they had a chance to question this, Waldo scoffed and hooked his cane around the detective's neck and yanked them against his body and spun around, holding them there as they kicked and grabbed at the cane for what felt like longer than a few seconds.

"Detective, you had the opportunity to capture one of us just then, you realize?" Waldo grinned, purring with curiosity. He released the detective and with a gasp, they looked to where "Who" had been just moments ago. As expected from a Waldo, he wasn't there now.

"Damnit," the detective cursed as the last remaining Waldo hummed the tune of a Halloween classic. They looked solemnly at their spilled coffee on the ground, completely unsalvagable now. Their $12 was wasted all because Waldo thought a game of "catch the detective" would be funny. As a car horn honked in the distance, a static crackle sounded as they turned to lunge at Waldo, only to find a red envelope in his place.

"Dear detective, I appreciate your attempt to capture me, though you should have taken the chance to do so sooner. Don't cry over spilled coffee, now! You'll have an opportunity to stop by here again.

— Waldo"

[empressofthesunwriter]

Beauty Is A Curse

Queen B.

Beauty Queen.

Wear your mask, don't let them see.

The Girl underneath.

Hide, hide, hide under snide and pride.

Use a sharp tongue to make them bow.

You are the Queen of this school.

Beautiful, so beautiful, yet deep down, you feel so vacant.

You scream inside and no one hears.

They love your face, but what about your soul?

Beauty is a curse for sure.

Five

#NO COMMENTS NO CHAPTER

(*)

"You did what?!"

Danny knew Sam would react like this.

"Shh, Sam, keep it down!" he urged her, glancing around worriedly. Luckily, none of their classmates seemed to notice them.

"Don't 'shh' me, Mister!", Sam retorted, though her tone softened slightly. "I can't believe you told that shallow witch your secret!"

"Well, if he didn't say anything, then Paulina would have found out anyway. I never thought she would catch on.," Tucker chimed in, typing away on his PDA.

"She's smart—smarter than you give her credit for!" Danny shot back. "You guys don’t know her like I do."

Angrily, Sam crossed her arms and made them stop. "Oh, please tell me, do you meet with her in secret or what?!"

Danny's silence and flushed cheeks answered her question.

Sam couldn't believe it. "You really do?!"

"Awesome, dude!", Tucker exclaimed.

"Tucker, not now! How can you hang out with Paulina and not tell us?!"

"Because I knew you two would react like this!", Danny responded firmly. "Paulina... she’s actually really sensible. She’s just scared to stand up to the other A-listers, which is why she still plays the Queen B."

"Of course, that's what she wants you to believe.," Sam scoffed.

"What are you implying?"

"She’s probably playing a cruel joke on you, and you, like a dumbass, told her your secret!"

Danny's anger flared. "What? Is it so hard to believe a pretty girl likes me?!"

At that moment, Sam realized she had gone too far with Danny. "No, Danny, that's not what I mean. I—"

"Forget it, Sam," he interrupted. "You said what you had to say. I just need some time for myself."

With that, Danny stormed away, leaving Sam looking sadly after him.

"Nice going, Sam."

"You don’t need to tell me, Tucker."

(*)

Paulina was worried about Danny.

All day, he had kept his distance from his friends, who looked sad and guilty—especially Manson, who seemed remorseful.

During lunch break, she sent Danny a message asking him to meet her on the school rooftop.

Naturally, he came.

"You really like rooftops, huh?" he tried to joke, but Paulina sensed it was only half-hearted.

"Danny, is everything okay?", she asked, concerned, as she took his hands in hers. "Did you have a fight with Manson and Foley?"

"I can't keep secrets from you," he muttered.

"No, we are friends… aren’t we?"

"Of course!"

He squeezed her hands to reassure her.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Danny gave a tiny nod.

They sat down on the ground, and he recounted what had happened that morning with his friends.

When he finished his story, Paulina felt a heavy guilt in her heart.

"I can’t blame Manson for thinking that way; I did play you during the dance."

"But you explained and apologized," Danny reminded her, taking her hand. "And I have forgiven you."

"Still… if your friends react like this, how will the rest of the school respond? I don’t want you to get hurt, Danny," Paulina mumbled, her cheeks blushing.

"Paulina, don’t worry so much about me. I have ghost powers; I can handle it. It’s you I’m worried about."

"Me?"

"I know you said you’re sick of being the Queen B, but could you handle being a loser like me?"

"I’d rather be a loser with you than popular without you!"

"R-Really?"

Both of them were blushing and gazing at each other with loving eyes.

"D-Danny, since we’ve been friends, I’ve been so happy," Paulina stuttered, but she needed to be honest with him. "I don’t want to go back to how things were!"

"Me neither, Paulina."

They hugged tightly, afraid that if they didn’t, one of them might vanish.

Unbeknownst to them, someone was watching.

(*)

"She really seemed different," Sam mumbled to Tucker as they followed Danny to the rooftop.

They watched how he interacted with Paulina.

"Maybe she’s just a normal, pretty girl who wants to break free from her role as Queen B.", Tucker suggested. "Of all people, you should understand what it’s like to fight against societal norms, Sam."

This made Sam sigh.

She realized she needed to talk to Paulina, didn't she?

(*)

Surprised was an understatement as Manson discreetly waved Paulina over to her after school.

The Latina frowned.

Did Manson want to start some smack-talk now?

"Yes?", Paulina asked.

Manson nervously fidgeted with her fingers.

"Look, I know you don't like me, and the feeling is mutual."

"Mmh-hmm."

"But if Danny likes and trusts you..." Manson let out a heavy sigh. "Then I have to do the same. He wouldn't share his secret with just anyone."

"So, what? Are you offering a truce?"

"Yeah, for Danny's sake."

"Alright, truce.", Paulina agreed. "But you should also talk to Danny. He was really hurt by your and Foley's words. You both are important to him."

"I know... Well, bye, Paulina."

"Bye, Sam."

Both girls thought it was strange to call each other by their first names, but for Danny, they would at least try to tolerate one another.

(*)

At night, Danny Phantom took his crush, Paulina, on a flight.

The Latina was happy to hear how he and his friends had reconciled.

If only they could somehow challenge the ridiculous school system that divided everyone into A-listers and losers, they could be free to just be friends—and maybe even something more, hopefully.

For now, though, Paulina simply enjoyed her flight with her crush.

Tomorrow would be another day, with other challenges.

(*)

#NO COMMENTS NO CHAPTER

[strangelittlestories]

“Where are we going?” asked Khalida, attempting to adjust her denim jacket to hide the worst of the scorch marks.

Cassandra took a moment to answer. She tucked her domino mask into the pocket of her combats, then cast her eyes around and upwards. Satisfied they were not being observed, the ducked out of the alley and merged with the flow of pedestrians.

“To see someone I used to know.” the hero replied, quietly. “An old friend?” Khalida’s voice rang out with enthusiasm. She lowered her voice in response to Cassandra’s pointed look. “Dang, I love the whole ‘visiting an old friend for help’ thing. Always a juicy dynamic.”

“Not exactly a friend.” she looked up and down the street, eyes flicking up and down. “Not anymore.”

“An old enemy? That’s even juicier? Are they, y’know, your very *best* enemy?”

Cassandra sighed.

“They’re an old … something.”

“Ah, a classic ‘it’s complicated’ type situation. Very nice. Love a tangled backstory.”

“It’s not a backstory, kid. It’s my life.”

“I mean, yeah. Sure. But also: you’re a hero! So, to *you* it’s your life. But to us fans, it’s kinda also backstory.”

Cassandra could practically hear the girl adding tags to her mental blog post. There were exclamation points.

“You realise you have powers now, right? You gonna start thinking of your own life as backstory?”

“Are you kidding me, I’ve already started my entry on HeroWiki!” she produced her burner phone and triumphantly showed a draft on the screen. “Wait, is the person we’re seeing on Hiki?”

“I hate that portmanteau. Sounds too much like ‘hickey’” Cassandra finally spotted what she was looking for and started steering the two of them towards a particular sewer grate.  “But … yes. She’ll be on there. Search for Troubleshooter.”

“Oh dip.” Khalida looked up with open mouth. “She’s on the anti-hero section.”

“She wasn’t always.” Cassandra reached into her seemingly endless pockets and handed Khalida a high vis vest. “Now put this on, so no-one will ask questions about us dropping into the sewers…”

---

Troubleshooter’s sewer lair was surprisingly dry and homey. It smelled of lemon and baking soda, making Khalida think someone had been making cakes (though there was no sign of sweet treats among the utilitarian fittings).

“You bringing trouble to my door again, Cass?” Troubleshooter was squaring up to Cassandra; both were bristling with tension.

“Well, trouble is your business, Shoots.”

“It used to be.” Troubleshooter’s hand was on the sidearm holstered beneath her armpit. “But folks got … snippy about the solutions I offered.”

“Thought you’d be thrilled for me to admit I couldn’t handle this on my own.” Careless of the implied threat, Cassandra leaned in to speak softly in Troubleshooter’s ear. “I need you.”

Troubleshooter looked up at Cassandra and bit her lip. Slowly, fingers unwrapped themselves from the weapon.

“Why didn’t they like your solutions?” Two sets of eyes snapped over to look at Khalida; they’d nearly forgotten she was there. “You’re a prognosticator, right? Like Cassandra. You should be, like, the *most* helpful kinda hero.”

“I’m not a prophet. Not like this one.” Troubleshooter tutted. “It’s more … extremely limited universal knowledge osmosis.”

“Huh?”

“I see a problem. I know the most efficient way to solve it. Step-by-step. Like God’s instruction manual.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Not when the problem people bring you is a *person*. They get pretty antsy when you tell them the best solution is a bullet.”

“Oh.” Khalida gulped and looked nervously between the two of them. “Um, Cassandra, did you bring me here to…”

“No, kid.” Cassandra ran a hand through her hair. Suddenly she looked tired. “Here’s the situation, Shoots: I had a prophecy. End of days type stuff. Told me to be in a place to find a person. The place was full of bad-tempered hired muscle. The person was Khalida here. The visions since then are confused, but they all call her the same thing: ‘Reality Ender’. So here’s the problem I put before you: how do we help her *not* destroy reality?”

“You know you might not like the answer.”

“But we’ve still gotta ask.”

“Fine.”

Troubleshooter’s eyes went blurry. It was as if they were vibrating, flickering suddenly through a thousand upon a thousand realities, like searching for a station on an old radio. Just as suddenly as it started, her gaze blinked back into the present.

“Huh.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good result.”

“No. But it’s not a bad one, either.”

“Explain.”

“Let me put it this way: you hear ‘Reality Ender’ and your mind goes to ‘end of *existence*’. Makes sense - matches your prophecy. But that’s not her *power*.”

“So what is it?”

“Oh, it’s still ‘Reality Ender’. But … not ‘reality’ as in ‘existence’. It’s ‘reality’ as in ‘real versus fiction’. As in, ‘possible versus impossible’.”

“...I don’t get it?” Khalida’s voice was small and lost.

“I think the best way to put your deal would be … you’re a Potential Manipulator.”

“Um…that sounds a little problematic. Like, very cancel-able. Could we go with, I dunno, Possibility Manipulator?”

“Honey, trust me, being cancelled is the least of your worries…”

---

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