#but it’s good to acknowledge that you are supposed to feel a certain way

[paladin-n-cleric]

reminder that tv shows are supposed to send a message and often times logic is besides the point.

you could excuse mike and els behavior in the beginning of s3, but the audience is supposed to find them annoying. you could defend mike at the airport but it’s supposed to be annoying. you could, of course, argue that el was wrong for hitting angela, but the creators want you to feel proud of her. you’re supposed to like miIeven after they reunite, but you’re also supposed to notice the couples in the finale.

[anatolienne]

im honesty glad that i lived away from my family for 4 years bcs of school

[linkcharacter]

Really like the recent analysis. I know I speak of curly in a more defensive way than most but I generally try to get the point you made across at the end of the day with my analyses on him and his behaviors.

People love to lock analyses around Curly solely based on what he could’ve done as a physical action and have this avoidance to acknowledging the realistic barriers at play when it comes to those solutions. It’s. The game tries to treat the pre-crash section as if they are grounded in social and organizational realities. So the what if he did this questions about the situation always fall short when the real answer is he either couldn’t or it wasn’t an actual viable option. But then when they talk about what he actually did do it’s surrounded by such bad faith interpretations that his actions were completely intentional or still not affected by outside sources. He’s a very much “road to hell is paved with good intentions” character. He cared too much and that’s a big part of his problem.

There’s such a “perfect victim or nothing” mindset in the fandom where people can’t admit that there are no such things as perfect victims but that also shouldn’t mean that even if there were it would absolve them of the mistakes they made. People want to moralize every action of every character that they don’t realize that some actions are done without any specific morale factor. People just do things, like you said. People assumed failed intentions immediately flip the thought process behind them “he meant to do good but bad happened, he must be bad” and that just is not how people work. It’s how perceptions work but only of the observer.

It’s such a sensitive topic because, yes, you are supposed to be frustrated, even mad, at what Curly didn’t do, but you have to acknowledge the fact these were good intentioned acts even if that good intent did jack squat in the end. That his responses are human and it’s supposed to be uncomfortable and hurt that they were realistic faults of his.

He enabled his friend and it ended bad for everyone including him. No one really tries to argue this fact but everyone seems to think it has to be tied to the morale dilemma and not certain human natures and social factors.

This is all to ask, why do you personally lean towards thinking Curly wouldn’t turn Jimmy in? Are you speaking in the short term of realizing how bad he got or long-term/overall? I feel like he could but it would not be easy and no matter the necessity he’d always have this guilt at feeling bad for doing it.

Ah yes Curly the most imperfect human man character.

Yep yep yep absolutely, people love to assign morality onto characters and call them good or bad and diminishing the depth and nuance of Mouthwashing, filling discussions with bad-faith interpretations or speculating on inconcrete understandings of the incomplete, intentionally vague, context. I adore Mouthwashing to no end for having this oppressive suffocating and constant atmosphere surrounding everything in the game. Really shows off that the environment festers, no one well-meaning guy could create a happy ending with individual actions alone because it's all systematic.

To elaborate from your question tho, at the point Curly was in (if Anya wasn't pregnant scenario), definitely no don't think so (would depend on Anya a too on whether or not she would go to the authorities outside). Curly knew Jimmy was a danger, and I do believe that subconsciously Anya's report to him on Jimmy gnaws at him, but not vividly enough. I want to point out a moment where Anya tells him about the pregnancy, he begins asking "Who would you-", then he's nudged by Anya that she told him and he should know who it is, and he does, instantly saying he's known him a long time and will talk to him. That moment of, for a second not connecting that Jimmy is the assaulter responsible just makes me drag my palm across my face for how much of a man (derogatory) Curly acted like for one dialogue line. Like he just 'forgot' for a brief moment that Jimmy harassed Anya prior? Granted, he instantly believes and takes Anya seriously, immediately dropping the search for the gun he was on in that scene, realizing the severity of the situation and of Jimmy. We also don't know what Anya has told him specifically, how long ago it happened, etc. but the 'implications' of the scene make me believe Jimmy's known sexual harassment on the ship slipped Curly's mind due to him being more invested in "the bigger picture" of Jimmy, not latching onto a harmful and a very serious fucking trivia fact about Jimmy because of his perception of who his friend is as a whole (and with his foggy sleep-deprived mind at the moment), 'losing a needle in a haystack' with how much unknown history Curly and Jimmy shared, so to say.

Maaaybe in some other circumstances, like if Jimmy didn't crash the ship or smth long term I could see him doing it, it would take a lot effort like you said, no matter the necessity. We will never know. If we're going into speculation and imaginary scenarios though, if Anya HERSELF were to try and get justice, Curly would be backing her up undoubtedly (still not disconnecting himself from Jimmy though and feeling guilt on his behalf). But that's all suppositions from my reading of the characters.

[thegoldencontracts]

How Can You Fluster Them?

Characters: Heartslabyul, Savannaclaw, Octavinelle

Ace Trappola:

- Pretty easily, actually.

- As smug and teasing as he can be, there are quite a few things that get him flustered.

- Bring up how sweet he's acting or how sentimental he seems to watch him sputter furiously in denial; show him direct affection and kindness to watch him blue screen for a second before embarrassedly scoffing about how lame you're being.

- You can fluster him even further by teasing him about how smug he was a second ago. That really gets him.

Deuce Spade:

- While you could tease him about being 'stupid', yes, that is a bit hurtful, and it isn't really the best way.

- Just the opposite. Genuinely complimenting his intelligence, his strengths? That's what catches him off-guard. He doesn't quite know how to acknowledge it when someone truly, genuinely tells him he's not dumb, and him not being an effortless scholar doesn't mean he is.

- There are other ways, of course, like sudden acts of affection, pranks, or even dodging his kisses.

- He gets all red, and a tad defensive. It's the funniest sight.

Riddle Rosehearts:

- Most affection flusters him.

- Seriously. He's never really received it, considering his upbringing, so even things like hugs or kisses on the cheek leave him red. You're not quite certain whether it's more cute or sad.

- He'll get rather huffy if you point it out. It's rather comedic, but you might want to refrain from laughing too much, lest he ends up chastising you.

Trey Clover:

- Pointing out his true brilliance.

- That's the main method. Although he's used to affection, to being told he's a good baker, a nice guy, and whatnot, he's not quite used to having his true potential acknowledged.

- He'll look away with a flush, denying his true intelligence, the true strength of his Unique Magic, or whatever it is you've opted to praise him for.

Cater Diamond:

- Allowing him to be genuine.

- It will take a while, frankly. With most people, Cater dons the personable mask of Cay-Cay the friendly senior, but with time... And patience, he may warm up to you enough to be himself. Be moody, the ultimate hater of sweets, and whatnot.

- He can't help but feel oddly flustered, caught off-guard, really, when you let him complain about the way Riddle was before his overblot, when you make him something salty for a dessert of sorts.

Leona Kingscholar:

- There are quite a few ways.

- If you two are together, he might tease you quite a bit. Reciprocating said teasing is certain to get him huffy and flustered. Teasing in general, really. Dodging his kisses? Headpats? Photoshopping him in cat ears? If you're close enough to him, they'll all work wonderfully.

- And... Genuine understanding flusters him as well. Prioritizing him in small ways, like taking a break from your gaming to talk to him, or allowing him to vent to you.

Ruggie Bucchi:

- Caring for him.

- Ruggie is used to having to act incredibly mature for his age, yes. He's cunning, clever, and responsible, important traits to make up for his disadvantages in life.

- So, when you (jokingly, I would hope) babytalk him, pat him on the head, or ask if he'd like to be the little spoon, it gets him terribly huffy. What's that supposed to mean, huh?

- It's even worse when you genuinely care for him, making him meals, or offering him a massage. It's hard for him to accept help. He's not a kid! He doesn't need the babying! It's worth nothing that he has a very broad interpretation of what counts as "babying". However, he will accept after a while, and be very, very flustered about it.

Jack Howl:

- Teasing him.

- He's always in denial about his softer side, no matter how apparent it becomes that he truly admires or cares for something or someone. He gets terribly flustered at his own sentiment.

- Teasing him about it just makes things worse. Dramatically exclaim how cruel he is because he said he "wasn't concerned for you or anything". Play dumb when he tries to ask for a kiss in a roundabout manner. The result is hilarious.

Azul Ashengrotto:

- There are so many ways to do this.

- Teasing him about his affections, for one. This is the same man who couldn't even admit to caring for his business, who claimed that love made one exploitable. He's already terribly mortified by his own so-called exploitability. Asking if he likes you gets him rather pouty before you're dating.

- Genuine, continued kindness is also rather flustering for him. You- care for him? Wish to see him succeed? You accept his flaws? You don't view him as pathetic for his tears? It's all territory he's terribly unused to.

Jade Leech:

- Standing up for him when he's insulted, for one. Telling the stranger that, no, his mushrooms aren't creepy, they're impressive, they just need to get a hobby. That leaves him shocked for a bit.

- There's also things like being the one to tease him, caring for him, listening to his rambles about mushrooms.

- Those leave him red-faced for a good few seconds. Calling out his flustered state garnets a pointed "Let us move on".

Floyd Leech:

- Initiating affection.

- Really, although he seems lackadaisical most of the time, impossible to fluster, it isn't quite that hard. He isn't used to being kissed, or hugged, or even praised without a certain business-oriented touch.

- So, when you suddenly kiss him, or offer to be the big spoon, or whatnot, he freezes up.

- If you point it out, he gets comedically defensive. Someone needs to tell him how terrible "I-I'm not blushing or whatever, that'd be laaame, so shut up!" Works as a method of denial.

[muletia]

Starscream would particularly be a pathetic mess when he experiences human pussy/dick for the first time. He sits on his high horse claiming that humans are nothing more than inferior beings who don’t deserve to be acknowledged, then poof, you show up and put him in his place by making him cry and beg for relief as you use him for your own pleasure.

By the end, Starscream is panting like a dog, his legs shaking uncontrollably while you sit beside him smoking a cigarette (picturing that certain meme lol) and praises him for being such a good mech for them. Starscream is obsessed and whipped for reader from then on.

DON’T TELL MEGATRON FOR HIS AND YOUR SAKE‼️

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥

obsessed!starscream x human!reader

18+ content / valveplug

summary: behind megatron's back, many things are happening, all of which share one common trait: starscream is the source. this time, the decepticon SIC decided to strike his master's most vulnerable point: you.

cw: valveplug, dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!starscream, starscream rides you, multiple orgasms, praise kink, overstimulation, cheating? (is it really cheating if you are not in an established relationship?) yandere themes, obsession, possessiveness, toxic relationship, emotional manipulation

word count: 1130

an: 'angel' by massive attack was played on repeat while writing. i thought the title kind of fits the content

It was supposed to be just another ploy. A move to get under Megatron’s skin. To finally prove who was better, more cunning; who deserved to rule.

The plan was simple. Use you: make you fall in love, spark emotions, make you care for him more than any other bot on that ship. Spread rotten roots throughout your entire body to ignite a desire within you. Enter your primitive brain and leave a piece of himself there—a piece that, in theory, would take control of you. Make you dependent on him, abandon Megatron, humiliating him. And then seize the moment of shock, disposing of both you and him. Take the throne that belonged to him.

But somewhere along the way, he stumbled.

Starscream had to be cunning, and think two steps ahead if he wanted to survive another day as a Decepticon. Scheming was an art of survival, and he had become its master. Or so he thought. For there was someone even more calculating, someone who deceived even him. Someone who broke into his processor, conquered it mercilessly and claimed it entirely.

“Oh, how beautiful you are, how lovely,” he hears beneath him.

He feels soft, warm hands trailing across the armor on his chassis. Stroking, caressing—the action itself a form of praise. They are delicate, gentle, incomprehensible because no one had ever been gentle with him before. Subtlety was unattainable for someone like Starscream. Illusory. A luxury he had long stopped hoping for.

“You’re doing so well, darling.”

But you did it so easily, effortlessly. Without forcing, without intimidation. Praising him came naturally to you, as though you genuinely believed what you said. He knew he was magnificent, that he deserved more than he had. All the other bots, all the beings on that miserable planet couldn’t compare to him. But hearing it in real time made his ego feel real. He genuinely felt like he was the best.

Your hands wander higher. They leave his chassis, move to his shoulders, then to his neck. For a moment, he has the impression you’re about to choke him, the familiar, almost friendly sensation once again enveloping his neck. But you don’t hurt him. You don’t inflict pain. You just keep caressing him, sharing your warmth, even though he had long since begun to overheat.

His hips move quickly as he rises and falls over you, chasing pleasure. It’s lust. Hunger that only you can satisfy.

“More,” he moans. Half-lidded crimson optics look at you, and in their depths plays something far more dangerous than Megatron’s fury. “Say more. Compliment me, adore me. Love me.”

Finally, you reach his faceplate, forcing him to focus his gaze solely on you, and then you smile triumphantly. You’ve won, wrapping the very SIC of the Decepticons around your little finger. Now at your mercy, dependent on your whims and needs.

“You’re amazing, Star. So good, and just for me. You don’t even know what an honor this is for me.”

The pleasant tingling in his valve disrupts his focus. He wants to drink in your praise, to encode it deep into his processor and repeat it like a mantra when you are not at his disposal. But he’s so close to release… He feels his legs start to tremble, claws carving ravines into the berth.

He nuzzles his cheek deeper into your hand, seeking contact, reveling in the ecstasy you give him. Even while being passive, doing absolutely nothing but lying there and looking beautiful beneath him, you give him more than you could ever imagine. He does all the work, riding you, holding full control over when to stop and start, yet it’s you holding the leash. It’s your word that determines whether he’ll be granted the privilege of pleasure.

“You’re doing so wonderfully today, darling. Tell me, would you like to come? Would you like to be good for me?”

The tingling transforms into fire. His valve clamps around you, begging for release.

“Yes! Please!” he whines. “I want to be, hmm, the best… for you.”

“Then please, show me how much you adore me.”

He arches his back and sinks as deeply as he can. Pants heavily, legs still trembling. Optics remain open, locked onto you. Onto the human who managed to break him.

He leans low over you and kisses you, finalizing his overload. You can’t keep up with him as he ravages your mouth, constantly begging for more, for scraps of passion that temporarily soothe his frantic processor. One kiss lasts longer, almost romantic, but Starscream breaks it quickly, leaving five more hungry, greedy ones.

Finally, he leaves your lips and moves lower, to your neck. He hears you take a deep breath, and for a second, he feels guilty—until desire takes control again.

“Starscream,” you chide him gently. You saw right through him.

He wants to mark you, show everyone who you belong to, who you cheat on Megatron with. But he also wants to calm himself, to stop pretending in front of everyone that nothing connects you two, that you’re indifferent to him. To stop the madness tearing him apart after every separation, when both his body and spark craves you. Not just the feral interfacing but also the tenderness it carried.

Once more, he starts moving his hips, chasing another overload, though the remnants of the previous climax still cling to him. He’s already grown hungry again, longing for praise, which, as it turned out, was more satisfying than the desire to overthrow Megatron. His battered valve lazily takes you in, releases, and then swallows you whole again.

“Just a little mark,” he tries to bargain. He needs it. Needs to possess your body and soul the way you possessed his.

“No, I’m sorry,” you reply, stroking his cheek. “You know he’ll kill you if you do.”

He growls and pulls away because he knows you’re absolutely right. If your meetings were discovered, it wouldn’t just be him who’d pay. And he didn’t want to see you hurt. Not anymore.

He speeds up, forcing his processor to focus solely on you and the pleasure you provided him. He had to make the most of this meeting, to ravage himself until he had no strength left to move a digit. Not just so you’d care for him afterward and coo praise at him. The date of your next encounter was unknown, and he didn’t know if he would lose his sanity entirely and last scraps of self-control by then.

“What a good mech,” you murmur, drawing a moan from him. “Five overloads, and you still have the strength, huh?”

“There’ll be at least ten… ah! Or twe-twenty. But you—you’re not going anywhere.”

“As you wish, Star.”

He scratches with his claws so hard that sparks fly next to your head.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [19]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 18 | Fic Masterlist | Part 20

"What do you mean it will take weeks for me to fully recover? I don't have that kind of time, Yunho. This war isn't over yet." Your husband frowned, his gaze fixed on the physician from his position on the bed.

You sighed, stepping closer to the doctor, your concern evident, "Seonghwa, Physician Jung is doing his best. How can you return to battle if you're not physically strong enough? What good will that do, hm? And remember, you've acknowledged Officer Song's strategic prowess. Perhaps it's time to have a little faith in him for now."

Like magic, your words softened the general's hardened expression as he nodded in defeat, "Fine, I suppose you're right," He offered you a smile before turning back to Yunho, "I trust you've at least written back to Mingi to assure him I'm fine, right?"

"It's done, my lord."

"That's good; things should be stable for now. We dealt a significant blow to the Ruhon forces in our last battle. It's unlikely they'll launch any new attacks soon, considering their diminished numbers. If things continue to go well, this war might conclude sooner than expected." Seonghwa remarked, feeling optimistic.

"I certainly hope so, for everyone's sake. I made sure to inform Officer Song that you'll need a few weeks to recover. If they need you urgently, I'm sure he'll write back promptly," The physician assured, relieved to see your husband immediately agree with him, calming down so quickly with your presence, "Yes, I'm sure he will." Yunho knew for certain that without you there, he would have had a much harder time attempting to soothe the older man's frustration.

Sensing the general's longing gaze toward you, the doctor suppressed a knowing grin. Understanding that he was interrupting your much-needed private moment, he decided it was time to leave you both alone. With a final bow, he excused himself, "Well, that's all from me for now. I'll return tomorrow for your bandage change and medication. Good day, General Park and Lady Park."

After the physician left the room, you approached Seonghwa to ensure his comfort, tucking the comforters snugly around him and adjusting the pillow behind his back. His eyes remained fixed on your face, which he had missed dearly, as you fussed over him, "Is the temperature alright? Let me know if it's too hot or cold," You inquired. He nodded, and you continued, "Are you hungry? You must be. I'll ask the kitchen staff to prepare something for you—"

Before you could step away from his bedside, he grasped your wrist, his expression displaying a small pout, "Stop, my love. I just want you to stay with me, please."

You softened, placing your hand over his and giving it a reassuring squeeze before brushing some of his hair away from his face, "I'm sorry, I was just worried about you. You've been away at war for so long. I wanted to make sure you have everything you need now that you're home before you eventually return to the battlefield."

He smiled, his hold on your wrist tightening slightly, "All I need is you." He murmured, gently pulling you closer into his arms.

Feeling your heart melt at his words, you relaxed into his embrace on the bed as he pulled the comforter over both of you. Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, you sighed contentedly as he kissed your temple. He felt complete with you so close again, "God, I missed you so much," He confessed, "Out of all the wars I've fought, this has to be the most dreadful one. Not because it was tough, but because I couldn't stop thinking about you throughout it all."

"I missed you too, Seonghwa," You confessed, drawing in a deep breath to savour his familiar scent, "I never thought I could yearn to be near someone this badly."

His eyes instinctively fluttered shut as you nestled closer to him, pressing his nose against your hair, wishing for this moment to last forever. After a moment of comfortable silence, he couldn't resist asking, "I've heard a lot has happened while I was gone. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you through it. Tell me everything, my wife."

Taking a deep breath, you started from the beginning, recounting the events that unfolded after the general had departed for war. You described encountering Jinjoo during your visit to the fabric factory with Hongjoong, the surprise visit from the prince to the estate, and his unexpected invitation to the birthday banquet. You explained how he lied about you representing Seonghwa at the event and your gratitude for Wooyoung and San's help in preparing for it.

As you narrated every little detail that occurred at the supposed royal birthday celebration, your husband's heart swelled with pride and admiration. He listened intently, feeling his love for you grow with each word. Your courage in standing up for yourself and defending him in front of Prince Yeosang filled him with immense gratitude. He realised how fortunate he was to have you by his side.

"I'm so proud of you, my darling Lady Park."

With a light scoff, you teasingly pushed him in the chest, "Are you now, my dearest General Park? I still can't believe the first thing you chose to do after coming back was hurt me and push me away."

Guilt immediately clouded his expression as he drew closer to you, emitting a small whine, "I'm sorry, my love. Truly, I am. Speaking those cruel words hurt me more than this damn wound. I promise I didn't mean any of it. You're not troublesome at all, and I do want you with me for the rest of my days. If anything, you're all I need from now until the end of time."

At that, you could no longer bear to continue making him feel bad. Turning serious, you gently caressed the bandaged area on his abdomen before speaking, "I understand, Hwa. I really do. But I swear, if you ever pull something like that again, I won't hesitate to let Hongjoong loose on you."

His heart skipped a beat at the nickname you used for him, one you had never used before, "What did you just call me? Say it again."

Embarrassed, you blinked rapidly and cleared your throat before repeating softly, "I called you Hwa. It's your name, isn't it?"

He nodded with a cheeky grin, covering your hand with his, "Indeed it is. I love how bold you've become, my love. Now, along with that nickname, tell me you love me again."

You blushed at his request, feeling he deserved to hear it as many times as he wanted now that he'd returned to your side safely. Relenting, you bit your lip and murmured, "I love you, Hwa."

"Again." He demanded, resting his forehead gently against yours.

"I love you, Hwa."

"Again, my love." He whispered, leaning in closer with hooded eyes.

"I love you, Hwa."

"Say it for me just one more time."

"I love you so much, Park Seonghwa."

Intoxicated by your presence, he could no longer resist cupping your face and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You kissed him back fervently, eyes fluttering shut as you relished the sensation of his lips on yours. Both your hearts raced as you made up for lost time, pressing close to one another under the sheets. Your cheeks burned up, realising this was the most intimate moment you'd shared with your husband so far.

Gently pushing him away by the chest, you looked up at him, worry evident in your eyes, "That's enough, Hwa. You're still injured—"

But before you could finish your sentence, he leaned in, capturing your lips in another loving kiss. You gasped in surprise, but your resistance crumbled quickly as he deepened the kiss. Maybe just for a little longer, you thought to yourself, giving in to the moment.

As he savoured the feeling of having you so close, Seonghwa's emotions swirled within him like a tempest. He needed this closeness desperately, especially after the fear he'd felt earlier, thinking he might be close to death. The regret for hurting you with his words gnawed endlessly at him, and he despised the idea of being separated from you again. How could he have ever entertained the thought of you being with another man? The mere thought of Prince Yeosang in his place, holding you, touching you, kissing you, filled him with an uncontrollable jealousy that bordered on madness.

These thoughts fueled a surge of aggression within him as he flipped you around on the bed, trapping you beneath him. He loomed over you, his gaze intense as he whispered, "Mine. You're all mine."

As much as the sudden action flustered you and caused your heart to skip a beat, you frowned at his stubbornness, realising he wouldn't know when to stop unless sternly told off, "Are you out of your mind, Park Seonghwa? Such big movements could affect the wound, you idiot." You scolded, disrupting the intimate moment.

He blinked, momentarily speechless at the abrupt change in tone, protesting, "I'm fine, my wife—"

Before he could continue, the dressmaker barged in with raised brows, "Oh, we're all fine now, aren't we? I guess you're well enough to take a beating then."

The general panicked, hastily laying back in his spot, "Hongjoong, please, it's rude to enter without knocking." He chided.

You snickered when his friend rolled his eyes, "Well, it's also rude to disrespect your wife, but here we are."

"Oh my god, stop reminding me—"

"I'll stop when you learn to grow the hell up."

"Says you?!"

With a deep sigh, you stood up from your husband's bed, "You two fight to your heart's content; I'm going to prepare something to eat for this one." You said, gesturing to Seonghwa, ignoring his silent pleas not to leave him alone with his friend.

Hongjoong grinned at you, "Don't you worry, I'll take good care of him in the meantime."

Oh, I know you will.

"Have we heard from Physician Jung yet?" Mingi inquired as he was being suited up in preparation for the impending attack by the approaching Ruhon men.

"No, sir. It appears we're facing this battle on our own. But with your exceptional strategies, we should manage well even without General Park." One of the soldiers replied, striving to maintain optimism despite the military commander's absence.

"Let us hope so." The strategist muttered, unable to bring himself to reveal that his strategies had been devised with the assumption of having the best warrior in all of Joseon leading the army. Officer Song hadn't seen battlefield action since his promotion, and his combat skills were far from polished. Just why did this have to happen in the general's absence? Mingi feared the responsibility; if they failed in this battle, it would fall on him. The prospect of leading these men to their deaths was enough to make him feel nauseous.

He still couldn't grasp how Ruhon had made such a swift comeback. It seemed implausible given the significant losses they had suffered in the last battle. After all, the enemy nation wasn't known for its strategic prowess; they were often predictable in their actions. Unless... they were intentionally misleading Joseon into underestimating them? If so, the strategist might have played right into their hands as part of their plan.

Oh god, what do I do?

As General Officer Song meticulously went through his preparations for the impending battle, a sense of unease settled over him like a heavy cloak. Even with his efforts to focus solely on the task at hand, his thoughts kept drifting back to Seonghwa. The absence of their commander, his superior, and one of his closest friends weighed heavily on his mind.

With each passing moment, his worry for the general intensified. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that enveloped him, wondering if his friend was safe and well. Had the older man managed to make it home? Had Yunho received his letter, informing him of General Park's condition?

These questions nagged endlessly at him, gnawing at his insides as he grappled with the uncertainty of the situation. Despite his attempts to maintain a facade of confidence for the sake of his fellow soldiers, Mingi couldn't shake the underlying fear that something terrible might have happened to Seonghwa. All he could do now was hope and pray for his friend's safety, even as the spectre of war loomed ever closer.

A sudden wave of fear washed over him, unlike anything he had experienced in a long time. The general's absence felt more profound and impactful than ever before. It was as if the very foundation of his confidence had been shaken, revealing the stark reality that his sense of assurance had always been rooted in the presence and trust of his commanding officer.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the strategist found himself questioning his own abilities and worthiness. Without General Park by his side, his confidence wavered, leaving him feeling unsteady and uncertain. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such panic in war.

With a heavy heart, he squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, attempting to steady his nerves. Doing his best to ignore the doubts that plagued him, he knew he had a duty to fulfil. With trembling hands, he reviewed his strategies once more, desperately seeking reassurance in the plans he had meticulously crafted.

As he waited for the cue to head out and face the enemy, Officer Song resolved to push aside his fears and doubts. He may not have Seonghwa's guidance and leadership at this moment, but he knew he had to stand firm and lead the troops to the best of his abilities. With determination set in his heart, Mingi braced himself, ready to face whatever may come in the battle that awaited him.

Just as he was hoping to receive any updates about the general or word from Physician Jung, a soldier burst into the main tent, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The strategist's heart skipped a beat, looking forward to some semblance of reassurance amid his mounting anxiety. However, instead of providing the updates he had been desperately seeking, the soldier stammered out his words.

"S-sir, I'm afraid it's time we head out and be on standby," The soldier managed to say between breaths, "The Ruhon army should be arriving anytime soon."

Mingi's hands clenched involuntarily, his mind racing with a mix of apprehension and determination. Despite the lack of information about Seonghwa's condition, he knew that duty called and he had to lead his troops into battle. With a firm nod, he suppressed the trembling in his hands and resolved to face the conflict head-on.

"Let's go out and make General Park proud." He declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. With resolve burning in his eyes, he led his men out of the tent.

Moments later, Officer Song found himself mounted on a horse, the weight of his armour pressing against his shoulders as he surveyed the Joseon army lined up behind him. They stood at attention, ready for his orders, their anticipation palpable in the air.

As he gazed out at the empty land ahead, where the enemy forces would soon emerge, Mingi could hear nothing but the thundering of his own heart in his ears. His hands tightened around the hilt of his sword, a familiar weight that offered some measure of comfort in the face of uncertainty.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to focus, pushing aside the uncertainties that threatened to overwhelm him. He may not be Park Seonghwa, but he had undergone rigorous training and was a capable fighter in his own right. Reminding himself of his own combat skills, he squared his shoulders and steeled his resolve.

"We stand ready." He declared, his voice carrying across the ranks of soldiers behind him. Despite the nerves gnawing at his insides, he projected an air of confidence, determined to lead his troops with strength and determination.

I hope you're proud of me, hyung-nim.

His breath hitched in his throat as he finally spotted a tiny speck on the horizon, growing larger and more distinct with each passing moment. His heart raced as he realised that these were the enemy soldiers they had been waiting for. With a loud voice, he yelled the order for all soldiers to get into position.

Tensions were high as everyone readied themselves, their nerves stretched taut with fear at the absence of their strongest warrior to lead them. But as the figures drew closer, Officer Song's brow furrowed in confusion.

Something was not right.

Instead of a formidable army, only a few Ruhon soldiers were riding toward them, their arms raised in what appeared to be a gesture of surrender. Mingi's eyes widened in disbelief as he heard their cries.

"Soldiers of Joseon! Please don't attack! We have come to surrender!"

A sense of astonishment rippled through the ranks of the Joseon army as they processed the unexpected turn of events. One of the Ruhon men even went so far as to pull out a white flag, waving it frantically to signal their willingness to concede defeat.

The strategist's grip tightened on his sword as he studied the Ruhon soldiers before him, their faces worn with exhaustion and defeat. Despite their assurances, he couldn't afford to let his guard down yet, not after the treacherous tactics they had previously employed against Seonghwa.

"Hold it right there! How can we believe you're telling the truth?" He demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.

The Ruhon soldiers let out heavy sighs, their arms still raised in a gesture of surrender, "Please, we're telling the truth. Most of our troops have been depleted from the last battle," One of them explained, his voice tinged with desperation, "Our ruler has sent word just this morning to put this war to an immediate stop. A messenger is on the way to your royal palace to convey the message to your King as we speak. We come in peace to relay this message, and that is all. All remaining Ruhon troops will be retreating from our camp after this."

Mingi remained silent for a moment, weighing their words carefully. Finally, he lowered his sword, signalling for his own troops to stand down, "Very well," He said, his voice tinged with caution, "But know that we will be watching closely. Any sign of treachery from you, and we will not hesitate to defend ourselves."

The Ruhon soldiers visibly relaxed at his words, nodding quickly, "You have my word." One of them assured before they turned around and began riding away. The tension dissolved as they disappeared from sight, leaving Officer Song and his men standing in disbelief. Relief washed over them, dispelling the earlier fears. The strategist's expression mirrored the collective sentiment of his troops—a mix of relief and disbelief.

"Well, I guess we should head back to camp and await confirmation then," Mingi said, his voice filled with a hint of exhaustion. His soldiers nodded eagerly, grateful that the tense situation had been resolved peacefully. They began to disperse, their spirits lifted by the unexpected turn of events.

Now, everything fell into place, and the pieces of the puzzle aligned once again. His earlier suspicions about Ruhon's swift recruitment of soldiers now made perfect sense. It was clear that they no longer possessed enough manpower to continue fighting this war.

Returning to the main tent, Mingi was relieved to find a messenger waiting for him, "Officer Song, there you are! You have a letter from Physician Jung Yunho," The messenger announced eagerly. He hurried over to receive the paper, unfolding it with urgency. His eyes scanned the neatly written words at lightning speed, absorbing the contents. Once finished, he released the breath he had been holding, sinking into the seat behind him, "Oh, thank heavens the general is alright." He breathed out, a weight lifted from his shoulders.

The messenger's face immediately brightened at his words, and he quickly left to share the good news with the others. Mingi couldn't help but smile; everything was finally falling into place.

Peace, at last.

But his moment of relief was short-lived as a commotion erupted outside. The strategist frowned and left the tent to see what was happening. He found his soldiers blocking the entry of a woman, which puzzled him. Women weren't allowed in this area.

"Forgive us, ma'am. Women are not permitted here," One of the soldiers explained. Mingi pushed through to hear her response, "Yes, I know that, but you don't understand. I'm here on His Majesty's orders. We received word that General Park has been poisoned, and I've been sent specifically to treat him."

As he caught sight of her petite figure, his eyes widened in recognition. Not because of her uniform, which indicated she was a female royal physician, renowned for their medical expertise, but because she was the one he had been searching for all this time.

I finally found you, my one.

« Preview of Part 20 »

"The audacity of those Ruhon bastards, attempting to poison my strongest warrior. That's nothing short of treachery, isn't it, my Queen?" The King grumbled, his concern for Seonghwa evident in his furrowed brow. He had even dispatched their most skilled female royal physician to the war zone, trusting her to heal him.

Anxiety filled his being as his wife sighed beside him, offering a comforting hand on his back. She had yet to muster any courage to mention the trouble caused by their fourth son during the general's absence, not wanting to add to her husband's worries, "I wish I had an answer for that, Your Majesty." She murmured sympathetically.

Before the royal couple could further drown in their pool of misery, the royal secretary rushed in with a few letters. He hastily performed the formal bow, only to have the King wave it away.

"Forget the formalities, Secretary Choi! Tell us what updates you have this instant!" His Majesty's voice was urgent.

San nodded, swiftly unfolding the papers and reading each one aloud. With each letter, a weight seemed to lift from the room.

"The first letter is from General Park," He began, "He reports he's safely home and receiving treatment from his own doctor."

Relief washed over the King's face.

"And the second?" Her Majesty pressed, her tone hopeful.

San's voice steadied as he continued, "The second is from the ruler of Ruhon. He acknowledges defeat and officially surrenders. He is also requesting an audience to discuss a peace treaty. It would seem the war is over, Your Majesties."

"Oh, thank goodness it's over."

After a moment of everyone digesting the news, His Majesty furrowed his brows in slight confusion, "Wait, General Park is home already, you say?" His voice carried a note of incredulity, "How odd. That would mean he began travelling back before there was even news of the enemy's surrender. Why would he return home all of a sudden? Did something else happen?"

The Queen's heart sank at that. For weeks, she had harboured the hope of shielding Yeosang from his father's potential wrath, but now it seemed fate had other plans.

I'm sorry, my son.

Woohoo, only the final part is left, and we're done with the main story! Psst, try going over to the Spinoff Masterlist to see if you can spot anything new HEHE🙈

As always, thank you so much for reading, and please let me know your thoughts! <3

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[wolvietxt]

𝓭ay 𝓯ourteen.

daryl dixon and mixed signals.

you’d gotten used to daryl’s rough edges over time. there was a certain comfort in knowing what to expect, even if that often meant dealing with his gruffness. but lately, he’d been different - quieter, more distant. whenever you saw him, there was hardly more than a grunt of acknowledgment before he’d be off somewhere else, hunting or keeping watch. it felt like something had shifted, and you weren’t sure why.

you kept your distance, figuring if he needed space, you’d give it to him. after all, everyone was dealing with their own struggles at the prison. you kept yourself busy, helping with the chores and making yourself useful wherever you could. but when you noticed how little he seemed to care whether you were around or not, it started to hurt more than you wanted to admit.

days turned into a week, and by then, you could barely remember the last time you’d had a real conversation with him. he was always somewhere else, either physically or mentally. you found yourself hesitating to approach him, not wanting to deal with another one of his curt replies. you told yourself it was just how he was - he’d always been a bit standoffish - but it was hard not to take it personally when he seemed to be avoiding you entirely.

one afternoon, you caught sight of him by the gates, checking the perimeter. the sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard. taking a deep breath, you decided to approach. maybe you’d been reading too much into things, and if you just talked to him, you’d realise it was all in your head.

“hey,” you called out, walking up beside him. “haven’t seen much of you lately.”

daryl didn’t look at you. his eyes stayed on the treeline, his expression as unreadable as ever. “been busy,” he muttered.

“yeah, i figured,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “but, y’know, we could still talk every now and then. just because we’re all busy doesn’t mean we have to shut each other out.”

“i ain’t shuttin’ anyone out,” he said, his voice a little sharper than you expected. “got things to do. don’t need to be chit-chattin’ all the time.”

you took a step back, surprised by the edge in his tone. “i wasn’t saying that. just... thought maybe we were friends.”

that got his attention. his gaze flicked over to you, brows drawn together in a frown. “we are,” he said, like the word was unfamiliar on his tongue. “just ‘cause i ain’t around doesn’t mean i ain’t still... y’know, here.”

“could’ve fooled me,” you shot back before you could stop yourself. “you’ve barely said two words to me in days.”

he turned fully to face you then, his expression hardening. “been dealin’ with stuff,” he said. “you ain’t the only one who’s got things goin’ on.”

“i never said i was,” you replied, your own frustration building. “but if you’re gonna act like i’m just some inconvenience, then maybe i should stop trying to be around.”

“who said you’re an inconvenience?” he snapped, his voice rising. “damn, you always gotta make things so complicated.”

you flinched, the words hitting deeper than they should have. “i’m not trying to make things complicated, daryl. you’re the one sending mixed signals. one minute, you’re fine, and the next, you’re acting like i’m a nuisance. what am i supposed to think?”

he exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “i don’t know,” he admitted, his tone softer now. “just... things are different. i’m different. don’t mean it’s got anything to do with you.”

“it feels like it does,” you said quietly, the anger giving way to a dull ache. “i thought we were closer than this.”

“we are,” he said again, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “i ain’t... good at this kinda thing.”

you sighed, your shoulders slumping. “daryl, i’m not asking you to be perfect. just... don’t push me away. i care about you, and it’s hard to do that if you’re always keeping me at arm’s length.”

his jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed to struggle with whatever he wanted to say next. “i’m tryin',” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “ain’t used to people givin’ a damn.”

“well, get used to it,” you said, your voice gentler now. “i’m not going anywhere.”

there was a long pause, the air thick with unspoken words. daryl looked at you, and for once, there was no anger, no frustration - just a quiet kind of confusion, like he didn’t know why you cared, but he didn’t want you to stop. “sorry,” he mumbled, his voice low. “for actin’ like a jerk.”

you managed a small smile. “it’s okay. just... maybe let me in a little, yeah?”

he nodded, a hesitant movement that seemed to cost him more than it should. “yeah,” he said, almost like a promise. “i’ll... i’ll try.”

you reached out and gently touched his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. he didn’t pull away, just watched you with that same uncertain expression. it was a start, at least.

over the next week, things got a little better. daryl wasn’t exactly chatty, but he wasn’t avoiding you either. he’d linger a little longer when you’d talk, offer a gruff “good job” if you did something useful, and once, when he found you struggling with a heavy load, he stepped in without a word, taking it from you like it was nothing.

it wasn’t much, but it was something. still, there were moments when he’d pull back again, just when you thought he was starting to open up. it was like two steps forward, one step back, and you couldn’t tell if he was making progress or if he was just... stuck.

one evening, you found him out by the edge of the woods, crouched down as he checked a snare. the light was fading, and there was a chill in the air, but you walked over anyway, determined to keep trying.

“catch anything?” you asked, crouching beside him.

“nothin’ yet,” he replied, not looking at you.

“figured,” you said, glancing at him. “you okay?”

he shrugged. “fine.”

“you sure?” you pressed, watching him carefully. “you’ve seemed... off.”

he stilled, his jaw clenching. “ain’t nothin’,” he said, but there was something in his tone that gave him away. you could tell he wasn’t being honest.

“daryl,” you said softly, “if something’s wrong, you don’t have to keep it to yourself. i’m here for you, you know.”

“i know,” he grunted, finally glancing at you, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. “just... ain’t used to talkin’ about stuff.”

“then don’t talk,” you said, your hand resting on his shoulder. “just... let me be here with you.”

for a moment, he didn’t respond, just kept his eyes on the snare in front of him. then, with a slow exhale, he straightened up, his shoulder brushing against yours. “fine,” he said quietly. “but don’t expect me to get all... sappy.”

you smiled at that, a little relieved that he hadn’t pushed you away this time. “wouldn’t dream of it,” you said lightly.

as the days passed, you continued to see glimpses of that softer side of him, though it was still wrapped up in that familiar gruffness. you caught him watching you sometimes, a look in his eyes like he was trying to figure something out. you didn’t push him, just let things be, and hoped he’d come around in his own time.

but then, just as you thought you were getting somewhere, he snapped again. it was over something small, some stupid disagreement about whether or not to go on a run for supplies. he was short with you, his words cutting sharper than usual, and it took everything in you not to snap back.

afterward, you found yourself retreating to your cell, wrapping your arms around yourself as you fought off the sting of rejection. you’d tried so hard to be patient, to give him space, but it felt like you’d been walking in circles. why did it always have to be so hard with him?

that night, you found yourself wandering out to the courtyard, needing some air. you hadn’t expected to run into him, but there he was, leaning against the fence with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the darkened landscape.

“what’re you doin’ out here?” he asked when he noticed you, his voice softer than before.

“could ask you the same thing,” you replied, not bothering to mask the hurt in your tone.

he shifted, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “look, about earlier,” he started, his voice gruff, “i didn’t mean to - ”

“yeah, i know,” you interrupted, not wanting to hear another half-hearted apology. “you didn’t mean to snap, you didn’t mean to push me away, you didn’t mean to make me feel like i don’t matter. i get it.”

daryl stiffened at your words, his jaw working as if he was trying to form a response but couldn't find the right one. his gaze dropped to the ground, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “ain’t like that,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “you do matter.”

“then why does it feel like you’re always pushing me away?” you asked, the hurt bleeding through in your voice. “it’s like one minute you’re letting me in, and the next, you’re shutting me out. i don’t know how to keep up with you.”

he glanced up, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something vulnerable beneath the gruff exterior. “i ain’t good at... keepin’ people close,” he admitted, his voice rough. “always figured it was better to keep my distance.”

“better for who?” you asked, taking a step closer. “because it sure as hell doesn’t feel better for me.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, frustration evident in the tightness of his movements. “for you,” he mumbled. “don’t need someone like me weighin’ you down.”

you shook your head, your chest tightening at the realisation. “daryl, i’m not here because i need someone to make my life easier. i’m here because... because i care about you, okay? and it hurts when you act like you don’t care back.”

he was silent for a long moment, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. finally, he let out a breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. “don’t know how to do this,” he said, the words coming out almost like a confession. “bein’ close to people... it don’t come natural to me.”

you took another step forward, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “then let me help you figure it out,” you said softly. “we don’t have to have it all figured out right now. just... don’t push me away.”

he looked down at your hand on his arm, his gaze softening in a way that was rare for him. “sorry,” he said again, his voice gruff but sincere. “for actin’ like an ass.”

you managed a small smile, relief washing over you. “it’s okay,” you said. “just... try not to do it so much.”

a quiet chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head. “can’t promise that,” he admitted, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips now. “but i’ll try.”

you stood there for a moment, the silence stretching between you but feeling different now - less strained, more... comfortable. when you looked up at him, he was already watching you, his expression a little softer than usual.

“thanks,” you said quietly, not really knowing what else to say.

“don’t gotta thank me,” he replied, his tone gruff but lacking its usual edge. “just... don’t give up on me, alright?”

“never crossed my mind,” you said, and you meant it.

as the weeks passed, things continued to shift between you and daryl. there were still moments when he’d get snappy, but now, he’d usually apologize afterward, albeit in his own awkward way. sometimes, you’d catch him looking at you like he was still trying to figure out why you bothered sticking around, and you’d give him a reassuring smile to let him know you weren’t going anywhere.

one afternoon, as you sat in the courtyard, patching up an old jacket, you noticed daryl nearby, working on his bike. he kept glancing over at you, like he was debating whether or not to come over. eventually, he seemed to make up his mind, dropping his tools and walking over with his usual guarded expression.

“you busy?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“not really,” you replied, setting the jacket aside. “what’s up?”

he shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “just... wondered if you’d wanna go on a run with me tomorrow,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “could use the help.”

you raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. “are you asking me to come along because you actually want my help, or because you’re trying to make up for being a jerk last week?”

he scoffed, but there was no real annoyance in it. “don’t push your luck,” he grumbled. “could just as easily ask someone else.”

“i’m kidding,” you said quickly, standing up. “i’d love to go.”

his expression softened, and he gave a short nod. “good,” he muttered. “be ready at first light.”

the next morning, you were up before dawn, and by the time daryl arrived, you were already waiting by the gates with your gear. he gave you a quick nod of approval before leading the way into the woods, his pace brisk but not hurried. you followed closely, glad for the chance to spend time with him outside the walls of the prison.

the run went smoothly, with only a couple of walkers to take down along the way. it wasn’t until you were on the way back that daryl finally spoke, his tone more casual than you’d heard it in a while. “you did good out there,” he said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“thanks,” you replied, a little surprised by the compliment. “you weren’t too bad yourself.”

he huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “don’t get cocky,” he said, but there was a faint smile on his lips.

as you neared the prison, the conversation tapered off, and you found yourself wondering if things would go back to how they were before - if he’d retreat behind those walls he’d built around himself. but as you reached the gates, daryl turned to you, his expression more open than you’d ever seen it.

“thanks for comin’ along,” he said, his voice low. “meant a lot.”

“anytime,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “you know where to find me.”

he nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small, almost imperceptible smile before he turned and walked away. you watched him go, a quiet warmth spreading through your chest as you realised that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to change.

over the next few days, daryl was around more often, seeking you out for small tasks or just sitting nearby while you worked. it was a subtle shift, but it felt significant. there were still moments when he’d snap at you, but now, it was easier to brush off, knowing that the softness was still there underneath.

one evening, you were sitting by the fire, lost in thought, when daryl came over and sat beside you. “whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asked, his tone gruff but curious.

“nothing much,” you replied. “just... glad you’re here.”

he gave a quiet grunt in response, but you could see the way his eyes softened at your words. “yeah,” he said after a moment, “me too.”

you turned to him, a small smile on your lips. “i think you’re getting better at this whole ‘being close to people’ thing,” you teased.

he rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in them. “don’t push it,” he said, though his voice was light.

“fine,” you said, leaning back and letting the warmth of the fire wash over you. “but i’m proud of you, daryl.”

he looked at you, something like gratitude flickering in his gaze, and for a moment, there was nothing but quiet understanding between you. then he looked away, his usual gruffness returning. “you’re somethin’ else,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“guess that makes two of us,” you replied, nudging him playfully.

he didn’t respond, but a small, genuine smile graced his face.

the fire continued to crackle, casting flickering shadows across daryl. he was still beside you, closer than he’d been in a while, his usual distance melting away in the warmth of the moment. you couldn’t help but feel a quiet thrill at how his defences seemed to be crumbling bit by bit.

“you know,” you said softly, turning your head to look at him, “you’re not as tough as you let on.” there was a teasing lilt in your voice, but it held a hint of something deeper.

daryl’s eyes flicked to yours, narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge what you meant. “what’s that s’posed to mean?” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.

“just that... you’re not fooling anyone,” you continued, your voice dipping lower. “especially not me.” 

he held your gaze, something sparking in his eyes that hadn’t been there before - a quiet intensity that seemed to draw you in. you could feel the air between you growing heavier, charged with an unspoken question neither of you dared to voice.

“yeah?” he murmured, his voice gruff, but there was a softness underneath, a trace of uncertainty that told you he was letting his guard down just enough to let you in.

you leaned in slightly, closing the small distance between you, your gaze flickering to his lips before meeting his eyes again. “yeah,” you whispered. “you’re kind of sweet when you want to be, you know.”

he scoffed, but it came out almost breathless. “ain’t sweet,” he grumbled, though his eyes betrayed the way his breath hitched when you got closer.

“prove it,” you challenged, your voice barely audible, your breath mingling with his.

his expression tightened with something you couldn’t quite place - part hesitation, part longing, part frustration. then, in a quick movement, he cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in, his lips crashing against yours with a roughness that sent a shiver down your spine. 

his kiss was demanding, almost desperate, as if he’d been holding back for far too long. his calloused fingers tangled in your hair, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the thought of letting you go. you responded just as fiercely, your hands fisting in his shirt, feeling the solid warmth of him under your touch.

when he pulled back, it was only for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as his breath came out ragged. “this what you wanted?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, the roughness edged with something raw and unguarded.

“maybe,” you breathed, your lips grazing his again, teasingly light. “or maybe i just wanted to see if you’d actually do it.”

a growl rumbled in his throat, and he kissed you again, harder this time, his grip on you firm but not harsh, like he was trying to convey everything he didn’t know how to say. the heat between you intensified, and you found yourself arching into him, his hands trailing down to your waist, pulling you even closer.

it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a silent promise, a raw confession of everything he’d kept bottled up. and when he finally drew back, his lips swollen and his gaze burning with something deep, you knew this was a turning point - one you wouldn’t come back from.

“damn troublemaker,” he muttered, but the words were rough with affection. his thumb brushed over your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture that sent your heart racing all over again.

“guess that makes two of us,” you whispered, echoing your earlier words as you leaned in to steal one last kiss, savouring the taste of him and the feeling of finally breaking through the walls he’d built.

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[books-and-omens]

Rather a big thing, by the way, that many of us are probably re-evaluating right now is Crowley consistently not wanting to be called kind or nice. Especially not by Aziraphale.

In S1, that was what triggered the wall slam. ‘Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me’—but in S2 we see more about how strong Crowley’s feelings are on the topic.

In the Job minisode, Crowley vehemently insists that he is a demon. He is so angry at God. When Aziraphale tells him that he is certain Crowley does not want to destroy Job’s children, Crowley takes his glasses off to expose full-demon irises and looks Aziraphale in the eye as requested and says, “I want to”.

Aziraphale is heartbroken over that. His shoulders slump, he exhales shakily, his faith in Crowley has indeed cracked. Look at him:

And then, of course, he figures out the trick, and it turns out that he is exactly right about Crowley. “Well,” he says, and looks vindicated, triumphant, amused.

He was right. He knew Crowley would resist atrocity with everything he has. He knew Crowley would understand it’s an atrocity in a way Gabriel and Michael did not seem to (and neither did those two care). What Aziraphale sees is that, for all of Crowley’s demonic posturing, Crowley came through.

(He remembers the angel that Crowley used to be. So joyful. So happy. So unlike Gabriel and Michael, too: the angel Crowley would never have gone along with killing Job’s children.)

At the end of this minisode, Aziraphale is ready to go to Hell. He thinks he must: he lied, he thwarted the will of God. Crowley, of course, tells him that he is simply an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can.

Aziraphale will process this in some way later, but… he won’t process it in the same way as Crowley. Aziraphale won’t reject the idea of Heavenly goodness—Heaven is supposed to be good, that’s the whole point—but he will take note of how, time and time again, Crowley exemplifies this idea when the actual Heavenly angels do not.

Across history, Aziraphale sees Crowley do things that are good. And then disclaim them, reject them, call them something else. A demon could get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing, Crowley had warned him a long time ago.

Aziraphale will remember this.

Don’t say thank you, Crowley hisses in the Bastille. My lot do not send rude notes.

And the Victorian minisode?

Off my head on laudanum, not responsible for my actions, Crowley tells Aziraphale vehemently after saving Elspeth from suicide. (In Christianity, certainly in the 19th century, suicide condemns a soul; one who died by suicide does not even get a Christian burial. So Crowley has actively diverted a soul from Hell by drinking the laudanum.)

And—look at how indulgently Aziraphale is looking at Crowley as Crowley insists he is not responsible for his actions.

Of course you aren’t, my dear, he seems to think. We both know you did it on purpose, to have a plausible excuse for Hell. But of course we both know that you are in fact responsible for your actions, and that, at great personal risk and cost, you have once again chosen to do good.

So by the end, from Aziraphale’s point of view, Crowley has a much better idea of Good than Heaven itself. And—oh joy!—in the finale, Metatron, the voice of God, finally acknowledges that fact and validates it. Your demon recognized me when nobody else did, Metatron essentially says.

(I just cannot with the ominous dramatic music that plays as Metatron leads Aziraphale out of the shop. Get the FUCK OUT David Arnold, this is so pointed and disturbing. In this season and in the last, the music is narration, it tells us so much without a single word.)

Anyway! Yes! In the finale, Aziraphale is being manipulated, and part of why it works is that he still does not understand Crowley’s motives in insisting he is not nice or good. He has been interpreting Crowley’s insistence solely as protective, which makes a lot of sense from what he has seen. A demon doing good deeds must hide to avoid punishment and pain. Crowley has hid for six thousand years, has gotten used to hiding. Sure, the last four years were different, but even in these years the danger hasn’t gone away, and six thousand years is a long time to set a pattern.

Aziraphale wants to see Crowley happy. He wants to see him—both of them—safe. And here, finally, is an official Metatron-offered way. Heaven is finally admitting and working on its mistakes. Surely Crowley will forgive them? Surely Crowley and Aziraphale can make Heaven better, together? Make into what it should be? (And they would be safe, they would be safe, they would be safe.)

They still haven’t talked. Aziraphale still does not understand Crowley’s choices. In the past, it might have been too dangerous for Aziraphale to know exactly why Crowley Fell, while for Crowley, it might have been too vulnerable a thing to discuss. So they haven’t talked, and Aziraphale does not know the exact questions Crowley had asked, does not know the exact reasons. He assumes.

And his assumptions, oh so well-meant, are going to be catastrophic.

[little-jana]

"A Quiet Moment"

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing

Words: 1k

Summary: A quiet moment at the BAU sparks a tender connection between Aaron Hotchner and the reader.

The office was quiet, save for the low hum of the computers and the occasional tapping of keyboards. The night had fallen, and most of the team had left for the evening, leaving the BAU office in an eerie calm. It was moments like this when I could finally catch my breath. A few late cases had kept me at my desk longer than usual, but the end was in sight.

I glanced over at Hotch's desk, noticing that he, too, was still working. The last few days had been intense. The case had drained all of us, but we’d finally cracked it, thanks to his leadership. He had been there for us every step of the way, his unwavering focus and dedication providing the backbone the team needed. Even though he was often reserved and serious, there was something about him that drew me in. The way he led, the way he made decisions, and how he balanced his work with being a father. It was admirable.

For a brief moment, I caught his eye. He looked up from his paperwork and gave me a small, almost imperceptible smile. The kind of smile that told me he appreciated the effort but didn’t have to say it aloud. His brow furrowed slightly as he noticed me looking at him, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he gave a small nod, acknowledging me without words.

It wasn’t often that I let myself indulge in thoughts of him like this, but tonight was different. With the team gone and the office nearly empty, it felt like there was room for something else—something more personal. There was a quiet tension between us that I couldn’t quite place, something unspoken that lingered just beneath the surface.

I stood up from my desk, the decision to break the silence weighing on me. I needed a break—just a moment away from the files and reports. I walked over to the small kitchenette and poured myself a cup of coffee, trying to ignore the feeling that Hotch’s eyes were still on me. I could hear the sound of his chair creaking as he shifted, but I didn’t turn around.

"Are you staying late tonight?" His voice was calm, steady. There was always a certain control in the way he spoke, but tonight, it was different. His tone seemed softer than usual.

I paused, unsure whether it was the right moment to answer honestly. "Yeah. A few more things to finish up," I replied, trying to sound casual. "What about you?"

Hotch leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he observed me. "Same here. Sometimes it feels like the work never ends."

I nodded, understanding all too well. The BAU had a way of consuming you, leaving little room for anything else. But even in the midst of the chaos, there were moments like these—quiet, unexpected moments that felt like a lifeline.

"You know," I said, finally turning to face him, "it's rare that we get any downtime, even if it’s just for a cup of coffee."

He gave me a soft chuckle, and for a brief second, I saw a flicker of warmth in his eyes. "I suppose that's true. But I think we're both good at finding ways to keep busy."

I smiled, setting my coffee down on the counter. "True enough. But sometimes, it's nice to just… be still."

There was a long pause between us. The air felt thick, heavy with something neither of us had fully acknowledged. I could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his eyes lingered on mine just a bit longer than necessary. It was as though he was thinking about something, weighing a decision he wasn't sure he should make.

Without warning, Hotch stood up from his desk and walked toward me. My heart skipped a beat at the sudden movement, and I found myself frozen for a moment. His presence filled the space between us, and for a second, I couldn't find the words to speak.

"You’ve been working hard," he said, his voice low. "You deserve a break."

I swallowed, feeling a heat rise to my cheeks. It wasn’t like him to offer such direct compliments, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. Instead, I just nodded, trying to play it cool. "I appreciate that."

He stepped a little closer, just a few feet between us now. I could feel the tension in the air, thickening with every passing second. Hotch wasn’t a man of many words, but when he spoke, it always carried weight. And right now, I could sense that his words held more than just casual conversation.

"Sometimes," he began, his eyes steady on mine, "it’s easy to get caught up in everything. In the work, the responsibility. But you’re right. It’s nice to pause, even just for a moment."

The way he said it felt personal, like he was speaking more about himself than the work we did. It made my pulse race. There was a shift in the air now, and I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Before I could respond, Hotch took another step closer. His gaze dropped for a moment, then returned to mine. "I don’t know if you feel it, too," he said quietly, "but I think there’s something here. Between us."

My breath hitched, the words barely audible as I looked up at him. "I do," I whispered.

Hotch’s lips twitched at the corners, and I could see the subtle vulnerability in his eyes—something he rarely allowed anyone to see. It made my chest ache with an unfamiliar emotion.

Without another word, he closed the distance between us, his hand reaching up to gently brush a stray lock of hair from my face. The touch was soft, yet it sent a shock through me, as though every nerve in my body was suddenly awake.

"I’ve wanted to do this for a while," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

And then, with a tenderness that caught me completely off guard, he leaned in and kissed me.

It was slow, almost tentative at first, but the moment his lips met mine, all the tension I had been carrying—about the cases, about the team, about everything—melted away. In that instant, it was just him and me, and nothing else seemed to matter. His hand slid to the back of my neck, deepening the kiss, and I couldn’t help but respond, letting go of all the uncertainties I had been holding onto.

When we finally pulled away, breathless and with hearts racing, Hotch looked at me with that same intensity as before. But now, there was a hint of something else—a promise, a quiet understanding.

"We’ll take this one step at a time," he said softly, as though trying to reassure us both.

I smiled, feeling the weight of his words settle into my heart. "I’m okay with that."

For the first time in what felt like ages, everything seemed right.

[pilfappreciator]

Been seeing lots of Bruce x Reader content which is fine! Great even! But I've seen absolutely NOBODY acknowledged the existence of his fine ass muppet wife so I went ahead and DID IT MYSELF 😤😤😤

Bruce/Brandi x Reader

Includes: GN! Reader, polyamory, lots of MILF/DILF appreciation (as there should be), Vacay Lovers

🧡 Chances are you first met them while visiting Vacay Island. Bruce welcomed you with open arms and that charming attitude of his, got you nice and situated for your stay. Eventually he introduced you to his lovely wife Brandi and the kids

💜 The couple warm up to you pretty quick. You've got a great personality, you never hesitate to help them out around the island, their kids adore you (not to mention you're pretty cute)

🧡 These two are honestly couple goals. Literally soulmates. They're super devoted to one another and its pretty obvious to everyone around that they're meant to be. I mean they literally have a gaggle of kids so yknow they're in it for the long run

💜 THAT BEING SAID!! It'd probably be a while before you three actually got together

🧡 Bruce and Brandi only have eyes for each other (at least at first). Introducing someone new into the relationship probably wouldn't even occur to them unless they got to know that person really well, and even then there'd still be long discussions between the two about whether they're really ready for that kind of change. What it would mean for the relationship, how it might affect them, their family and business, ect.

💜 These two never half-ass things. Both are the type to pour their entire souls into what they deem important so if you're gonna be with them, then you bet your ass that it's gonna be for the long haul. The three of you WILL retire and grow old together okay they will PERSONALLY see to it

🧡 But eventually, after you've known them for a year or two and once they've both come to terms with how they feel about you?

💜 BABES PREPARE TO GET SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET

🧡 These two are the perfect team (comes with co-owning a business and running a family ig)

💜 After years of being the heartthrob of BroZone, Bruce is an expert at putting his natural charm and good looks to use. This man is constantly making time to come over and strike up a conversation. And I think it's universally agreed that the guy is not shy or subtle once so ever, so expect a lot of compliments/winks/charming smirks thrown your way. This man is fully leaning up against the wall beside you, giving you that signature Casanova Smoulder(tm), all while telling you how he and Brandy are planning to add french fries to the bar menu

🧡 "But it's supposed to be a surpise until then so let's just keep this between the three of us. Okay, beautiful?" He says with a wink, raising a finger and briefly pressing it against your lips

💜 You probably shouldn't get so flustered over French fries... unfortunately Bruce is sexy and knows it 😔

🧡 Brandi isn't as on-the-nose as her husband but that doesn't mean she's any less effective. She managed to snag someone like Bruce afterall so you KNOW she's got game

💜 Definitely gives you just as many compliments and praise but she's very like... very nonchalant about it?? Like the two of you will be mid convo and she'll just randomly go "wow you are literally so gorgeous haha. Are you sure you're single?"

🧡 You have about five seconds to respond before she's moving on and telling you all about how one of her sons keeps getting stuck in ketchup bottles

💜 It's kinda hard to tell if she's actually flirting with you. She's pretty laid back compared to her husband and at certain times she seems like a bit of an airhead, so whenever she says something nice, it tends to come off as a casual compliment...

🧡 But then there are times where she'll like? Brush a strand of hair outta your face, or wipe some food from the corner of mouth unprompted, or point out a piece of jewelry you have on by running her fingers over it?? Her skin grazing your own just the barest amount??? All while she's giving you that look??????

💜 This woman is sneaky as fuck ngl

🧡 Expect to hear these two gush about each other on the daily. They are CONSTANTLY hyping each other up whenever they're apart (they're in love what do you expect?), but when you've got the BOTH OF THEM in front of you??

💜 They are a well-oiled machine. You are absolutely getting tag teamed by this duo. By the time you leave their company expect to be red in the face and your heart skipping a few beats

🧡 You get invited to a LOT of family meals. Mostly dinners, but sometimes lunch and even breakfast too. And believe me, there is no such thing as a quite meal with this family. They have 13 chaotic kids who are always getting into shit so expect to come outta the whole ordeal with a few food stains on your clothes

💜 look out for Bruce Jr. cuz that kid will for sure try to start a food fight

🧡 Bruce and Brandi are always super apologetic about any messes that occur (they know first hand how exhausting their gaggle of kids can be), but then you just smile and seem genuinely unbothered? Maybe even amused by it all??

💜 "Babe what's their ring size?"

"Brandi, honey, pretty sure we have to at least take them on a date first."

"I'm just asking for a friend!"

"...Am I the friend?"

"You know you are, babe."

🧡 Yeah if these two catch you hitting it off with their kids and showing a genuine interest in their hobbies/interest/lives?? They are SWOONING, vows are being MADE, rings are being CHOSEN—

💜 If at any point you recognize Bruce from BroZone, or if Brandi brings it up in conversation in an attempt to boost her man's rep, then prepare yourself because Bruce will most definitely start putting on a show

🧡 Under normal circumstances he'd be wayyyy more hesitant. Performing anything from his past doesn't bring up the best memories... but he's willing to bust out a good bop if it earns him brownie points in your book (and it better considering that his wife is always telling him how hot he looks whenever he's doing his "boy band thing" lol)

💜 OUTINGS WITH BRANDi!! This woman is taking you shopping or out to the nearest cafe/restaurant that just so happens to serve your favorite, what do you know! Sometimes she brings you along to meet her friends, all of whom are well aware of your existence wink wonk

🧡 Will swoon and fan herself whenever you offer to pay for things, but like as a joke!

💜 (not)

🧡 Chances are the kids already know what's up with the three of you. Maybe it doesn't click immediately but Bruce Jr. notices that how his parents treat and act around you is the same as they treat and act around each other, he goes blabbing to his siblings and soon enough they're all in on it. They don't entirely understand the complexity of the situation... but they're aware that one extra parent potentially means more presents for christmas sooooo

💜 These little shits are mischievous as hell. They are asking you what your favorite color is just to subtly drop the answer while Brandi is out shopping for trinkets. You mention what kind of music you're into and suddenly Bruce is looking up playlists

🧡 You better believe all 13 of them have started a betting pool going about who will confess first, you or their parents.

💜 Brandi's friends might be in on this betting pool. The other vacationers too

🧡 Eventually (after lots of pining and a fuck ton of patiently biding their time), Bruce and Brandi decide to take the leap and invite you into the relationship

💜 They invite you to dinner. It is a WHOLE ordeal and they've been planning months in advance. The kids are off being babysat by one of Brandi's friends (both parties were suspiciously cool with this sudden course of action). Their business is put on pause with little complaint from their customers (again, suspicious)

🧡 You're immediately drowned in compliments the second you show up at the door. You could legit just be dressed in your pj's and they're like "wow those sweatpants really make your eyes pop 😀" sjsjskakaka

💜 You are being waited on hand and foot the whole time. Bruce is manifesting every ounce of romanticism he can— flower petals everywhere, candles are lit, he's got a ukulele tuned and ready for when he eventually serenades you. Meanwhile Brandi has cooked you a feast made entirely of all your favorites and is tucking little flowers into your hair every now and then. At some point she hands you a cute piece of jewelry she saw while out shopping the other day. Just a little somethin somethin that immediately made her think of you <33

🧡 Overall, dinner is going great! The three of you are having a blast in each other's company and it's refreshing to be able to have a conversation without worrying about rambunctious kids or another pink eye outbreak. The atmosphere is quite yet intimate. Their hard work is not going to waste. You are thoroughly wooed

💜 And just when dessert is about to be served—

🧡 "We think you're really hot."

"Wha— BRANDi! My song!"

"Hmm? OH, was I supposed to wait till after—?"

💜 Yeahhh they kinda fumble the confession ngl. You'd think they'd be smoother but they are both: 1) very excited, and 2) very nervous

🧡 Nevertheless, their point gets across. For a moment they kinda panic because of how quite you are afterwards, but really you're just? Absolutely flabbergasted?? These two hotties wanna date YOU??? FR??????

💜 Of course once you manage to form a coherent response (hopefully a positive one), the couple is literally over the moon

🧡 Brandi's flapping her lil muppet hands all excited like "OMIGOSH THEY SAID YES?!"

💜 And Bruce is just smirking and all like "of course they did, honey, did you seriously think they'd say no to the two of us?" all while simultaneously releasing the death grip he had on his ukulele (this man is a fraud)

🧡 Victory dessert follows shortly after. Your hands become absolutely useless for the next few minutes because these two are DEFINITELY TAKING TURNS SPOON-FEEDING YOU AJSHAKAKAKA

💜 The night ends with the three of you hanging out on the couch, either with Bruce serenading you and Brandi or the three of you just cuddling in a pile (probably both ngl)

🧡 Cue the next morning. The kids come back just to find you all fast asleep in the living room, you in the middle with their parents on either side

💜 Pictures are 100% being taken

I love these two a lot, could you tell?

Thinkin about doing a PART TWO!! Lemme know what you guys think 👀

[hard-core-super-star]

Can i ask one for Kate Bishop. One where kate and reader's are best friends .they sleep together after being drunk. R is hopelessly in love with her. Everybody including kate knows this but it's like an un spoken thing.katie says doesn't see r like that because obviously she's afraid of losing the friendship if the relationship fails. Tells r that night was a one tym thing . After sometimes start seeing somebody so r will get the idea. So much angst ,heart breaks ,Kate being an idiot ,r being lovesick puppy .and a Happy ending .☺️ Its okay if you can't .Thank you ♥

an inch away from more than just friends [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x reader

summary: falling in love with your best friend is supposed to be easy. unfortunately, neither you nor kate are particularly good at talking about your feelings.

warnings: a complete mess of fluff, smut, angst, and idiots in love; kate is HORRIBLE at acknowledging her feelings; drunken hookup in a storage closet {lots of grinding + teasing; r is a brat and kate is annoyed but turned on; small bits of dirty talk}

wordcount: 4k

a/n: I'M ALIVE! sorry for not posting much on here, i've been spending a lot of this past month working on my vampire!kate story so inspiration has been quite limited. i'm thinking about posting more short drabbles but idk how to format them 😅 anyway, i hope you're all doing well and i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

You weren't sure how you had ended up here. You hated parties. Especially ones thrown by rich people who had nothing better to do than spend a ridiculous amount of money on expensive booze and shitty food.

Not to mention, this particular party was being hosted in some skyscraper in downtown New York, which meant no matter how badly you wanted to escape the bustling atmosphere, there was nowhere else to go. Even the balconies that littered the outside were subject to the nonstop sounds of traffic.

At least it was better than being inside and having to sit through endless small talk about things you didn't understand.

A familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you lean against the railing, silently watching the cars drive by on the street below you. "There you are."

You turn your head and give Kate a small smile. "Hey."

The archer approaches you, a certain bounce in her step that isn't coming from her normal bubbly personality. 

While you weren't the biggest fan of these types of parties, Kate somehow thrived in them. Sure, she could be awkward most times, and she had a terrible habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, but she was charming. And as much as she hated the rich men who she had to rub elbows with all night, she understood them.

She'd grown up in this life while you...well, you were an outsider. Someone who didn't fit in, no matter how many expensive outfits the young CEO bought you or how many people she argued with.

The only thing you two could agree on was that the best part of these events was the free alcohol.

"How long have you been out here?" Kate asks as she joins you, her side pressing against yours and giving away how tipsy she already is.

"Like twenty minutes," you reply. "It was getting too stuffy in there."

She laughs and you allow yourself to admire her jawline and the way the city lights bounce across her skin. "Tell me about it. I swear I've had the same conversation with everyone."

"I don't know why you still bother coming to these things."

"It's good for the company, I guess," she says with a shrug. "And it gives me an excuse to get dressed up with you."

You roll your eyes at her, hating the way your heart instantly skips a beat at her words. She always gets extra flirty when she drinks. If you were more of an optimist, you might even believe her words had some sort of truth to them. 

"You're an idiot."

She makes a face at you, her features a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "You always say that."

"Because it's true," you say.

"Whatever," she huffs.

The two of you stand there for a few minutes, basking in the closeness of your bodies. It's a small thing, but it's moments like these that remind you just how deep your feelings for the archer run.

The buzz from the alcohol in your system leads you to rest your head on her shoulder without a second thought. Her arm wraps around you in an instant and it's not until that moment that you realize how cold you are.

"Can we leave yet?" You ask in a soft voice. It's a little embarrassing how desperate you are to be away from the bustling party.

"Almost," she replies. "I think you owe me a dance."

You groan, already dreading the looks you'll definitely get. "Do we have to?"

"Yes, we do." She gives your side an affectionate squeeze before pulling away from you. "Just one dance, and then we can leave."

You know better than to trust her words, but you can't pretend dancing with her doesn't sound nice. Clearly, Kate isn't the only one with lowered inhibitions right now.

"Fine," you roll your eyes but reach out for her hand.

Her fingers interlock with yours, and she leads the way to the makeshift dance floor. Thankfully, most people seem too busy in their own conversations to pay attention to the dancing couples...and you and Kate.

It fills you with more bitterness than you'd like, but you try not to dwell on it. It's easier said than done...until her hands land on your waist and pull you close to her. 

"You can come closer, sweetheart, I don't bite."

A nervous laugh escapes you. Mainly because you've listened to enough of her superhero stories to know for a fact she does bite, but also because getting closer to her is the last thing you should do right now.

She makes it far too easy to do, though, so you give in and wrap your arms around her neck.

The two of you start swaying to the soft music being played by the small group of musicians at the front of the room. It's hard not to spend the entire time admiring her features from this distance and as much as you try to ignore it, it's impossible to deny the way your heart flutters in your chest every time you make eye contact with her.

Your silence seems to surprise her, considering the way her eyebrows furrow together. "You okay?"

You nod and try to ignore how close your faces are. "Yeah, just...thinking."

That seems to get her attention and her concerned look turns into a slightly mischievous smile. "Oh yeah? About what?"

"Wouldn't you love to know?" You reply, hoping your attempt at teasing her will help distract her.

It doesn't work and instead of moving on, she wordlessly pulls you closer, her smile turning into a smirk when your eyes widen from the sudden proximity. "Come on, sweetheart, don't get shy on me now."

"You're annoying."

"Is that why you've been staring at my lips this whole time?"

Her words catch you off-guard, but they're not exactly far-fetched. The alcohol in your system mixed with having her so close only equals a long list of bad ideas. You can't deny how enticing those ideas sound, though.

You somehow manage to find your voice long enough to throw her observation back at her. "I think you're projecting, Katie."

"So you don't want to kiss me?"

She's toying with you, you know she is because you've seen her do it countless times, but you can't find it in yourself to really care. You know you shouldn't do it. You try to remind yourself that you're both drunk and simply trying to rile each other up for fun.

That no matter what happens, it won't mean anything. At least, not to her.

The longer you think about it, though, the less the potential consequences matter to you.

"I do," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "But only because it's the only way to shut you up."

You expect her to laugh at you and change the topic, but, of course, she doesn't. Because the only thing Kate loves more than annoying you is taking you by surprise.

In an instant, she closes the distance between your faces, her lips meeting yours in a borderline hesitant kiss. You're certain you've never seen her so nervous before. It's strange but endearing.

More than that, it helps distract you from how nervous you are.

She pulls away from you with a smile so bright that it makes your mind swim. "I guess you were right, kissing me does shut me up."

"Is that your way of trying to convince me to kiss you again?" You ask, doing your best to act nonchalant.

You're not sure that it works very well, but thankfully, she makes no teasing comments about it. She simply steals all your thoughts away by kissing you again.

The fact that you're one step away from fully making out in the middle of the dance floor isn't lost on you. Kate seems to come to the same realization as you at that moment and she reluctantly pulls away from you just to grab your hand and lead you away from everyone's gaze.

You don't know where exactly she's taking you, you just know it's definitely not toward the exit. You'd love to call her out on it and act upset and yet...you don't. How can you when your curiosity is practically eating you alive?

She drags you into the first storage closet she finds, closing the door behind you and pushing you against it. The action steals your breath away, along with the rest of your coherent thoughts.

You weren't going to act like you'd never fantasized about doing this with Kate but you'd always imagined it would happen under different circumstances. Although, if you're completely honest, you can't say you're actually mad about it.

"Hi," you whisper, your eyes drifting down to her lips once more.

"Hey." Her hands find their way back to your waist as she steps forward, effectively trapping you against the door. "Are you...still okay with this? 'Cause we can just leave and act like nothing happened."

You appreciate her thoughtful words even though the fire she started within you is burning far too bright to be put out now. 

"Yeah, I'm okay," you assure her. "I don't think stopping is an option now."

Your words seem to make her hesitation disappear and her smirk instantly makes a comeback. "And why is that, darling?"

"You know why."

Kate leans in closer, one of her hands drifting down to grip your leg and lift it up until it's wrapped around her waist. "Maybe...but I want to hear you say it."

"In your dreams, sweetheart."

You feel incredibly proud of yourself until the archer pushes herself against you, creating the most wonderful friction against your center. The movement catches you off-guard and you let out an embarrassingly desperate moan at the feeling.

The brunette takes advantage of the moment and ducks down to attach her lips to your neck. "I would love to put you in your place but you are far too adorable like this."

Your head tilts back to give her more access to your skin as you struggle to put yourself together long enough to reply to her words. "I wouldn't describe this as adorable."

She chuckles against your skin, the feeling of her warm breath sending ripples of pleasure down your spine. You almost can't believe this is actually happening. For a second, you briefly wonder if you're simply dreaming.

There's no way the pressure of her body against yours isn't real, though. No way for the pleasure you're experiencing to be completely made up by you.

The hand still on your waist gives you a soft squeeze before she guides you against her. There's something slightly humiliating about grinding against her in some random, badly lit, storage closet that only adds to the intensity of the moment.

Kate seems to read your mind considering the way she moves against you, drawing out another barely supressed moan. "You're holding back, y/n/n."

Her teasing words only make you want to tease her right back. Just because you've wanted her like this for a long time doesn't mean you want to make things easy for her. Riling her up is always more fun anyway.

"Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are," you reply, hoping she won't call you out for grinding against her so desperately. 

She has no plan to make things easy on you, though, and as annoying as it is, it's also incredibly attractive. "That's not what your body is saying." 

"How can you be such a dork at a time like this?" 

"It's my talent." 

"Keep telling yourself that." 

She groans, out of annoyance rather than pleasure, but you know your slight defiance is a turn on for her. It's almost funny how someone so bratty gets such a rush out of putting other brats in their place. "I hope you know your attitude is going to cost you later." 

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Katie." 

Her hand finally makes its way up your thigh, and she cups your heated core in one quick move. "How am I the annoying one?" 

You let out a sharp gasp, your hips rocking against her hand with zero shame or hesitation. You're already so close to falling apart, the coil in your stomach embarrassingly close to snapping already. In your defense, it's been a long time since your last hookup. 

"Not so mouthy now, are you, sweetheart?" Her amusement is more than clear and, even though you'd love nothing more than to wipe the smirk off her face, you're a little preoccupied with the mounting pleasure. 

"Kate..." You whimper, attempting to pull her impossibly closer to you. "Fuck."

Her teasing energy is quickly replaced by satisfaction. Satisfaction that motivates her to speed up her movements, effectively replacing all your thoughts with the feeling of her hands on you.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" She asks, her lips trailing a path from your neck to your jaw.

"Yeah," you reply, your voice a breathless, needy, whisper. "...please."

"Such a good girl. Go on, let me hear you fall apart for me."

Her words are exactly what you need to let go. It's a little embarrassing, and the lack of full contact makes it a little less satisfying than you'd like, but your orgasm crashes into you almost instantly. Your hands grip onto her shoulders as you ride out the waves, her soft whispers guiding you through the overwhelming sensations.

You're shaking and panting and absolutely spent after such a rush of emotions and Kate is right there, holding you close through it all. Somehow, the affection and care she's showing you feels even better than the orgasm you just had.

"You okay, baby?" She asks as she leans back just enough so your eyes can meet again.

You nod, still too shaken to find your voice. 

"You're too cute." 

Despite your breathlessness, she gives you a quick kiss, pouring far too many feelings neither of you want to think about right now into it. The alcohol must be draining from your system because you're already starting to freak out about this.

About how difficult it'll be to act like nothing happened. Like you're not completely in love with your best friend.

There's no way for you to deny it now. Hell, Kate herself can't deny it anymore either.

And yet you both try.

"Do you want to go back to my apartment?" She asks once you're able to pull away from each other.

The intention is behind her words is more than clear and it somehow manages to bring your confidence back. "Only if you let me repay the favor."

"I think we can definitely work something out," she replies with a genuine smile.

That's all you need to take her hand and drag her out of the storage closet. Her laugh rings out in your ears as you make your way to the exit.

True to your word, you spend the rest of the night returning the favor and drawing orgasm after orgasm out of Kate. It's not enough to make you believe you'll be together the way you want to and yet it's more than enough for ythe moment. 

It's more than you ever thought you'd get from her.

Unfortunately, morning comes too quickly and it brings the realization that you severely underestimated how much things would change. How quick Kate would be to sweep everything under the rug and deny it even happened.

It hurts but it's not a complete surprise considering the way the archer reacts to most things.

You manage to work through it, silencing your desires in favor of making her comfortable and keeping her in your life. It's not the healthiest thing in the world but you manage.

Your friendship only suffers for a few days before you're back to normal. No one would even notice anything if it weren't for the major heart eyes you throw her way all the time.

Everyone knows, though. Everyone cares except Kate.

Instead of talking about it like a normal person, she decides to make things worse by getting a girlfriend. You don't even know who she is and the archer doesn't give you any real details, she just mumbles something about a coffee shop and a cute dog.

You've never known Kate to be particularly reserved but she is this time. Not just that, she actively ignores you. Dodging your questions expertly and pretending there's nothing weird about how little time she spends with you.

You had always assumed it would be your feelings that ruined your friendship but Kate managed to ruin everything on her own. It's almost a skill.

Somehow, even as your heart breaks and endless questions swim around your mind, you manage to keep going. More than that, you match Kate's energy and pretend you don't even notice the change in her attitude. You're not sure who's more hurt by that but you don't even care.

You treasure the brief moments you get with her and mentally shout at her every time she cancels another movie night. Her excuses are endless. One day, she tells you she's too busy with Avengers work, the next she's too caught up with Bishop Securities.

The only thing that brings you some sense of comfort is the fact you're not the only one being lied to. Her so-called "girlfriend" gets the same excuses as you, at least that's what Yelena tells you. The Russian has no reason to lie, though, so you believe her and ignore the rising thought of making Kate jealous.

That's the only thing you're able to do: ignore Kate and the feelings you still have for her.

It works for a while...until the archer finds her way back to you.

It's the middle of the night when you hear frantic knocking on your door. You suppress your fear long enough to make it to the door, baseball bat in hand.

You open the door and come face to face with those same blue eyes you've tried not to think about for over a month. "Kate?"

"Hey," she mumbles, nervousness instantly creeping into her voice. "I, um...can I come in?"

You're tempted to say no and slam the door in her face. You're honestly half-way to doing it when you notice the way she's swaying and clutching her side."You're not drunk, are you?" You question.

Your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat but she smiles anyway. "No, I'm unfortunately sober."

You hum in response before stepping aside and letting her come in. There's a voice in the back of your head that warns you not to get caught up in the past. To keep your distance until she, at the very least, apologizes for being such a jerk to you.

Kate manages to make it to your couch without tripping while you lock your door and put the baseball bat back in its usual place. You brace yourself for the uncomfortable conversation that's bound to follow as you follow after her.

"So...what happened to you?"

Her only response for a few moments is a groan and you do your best to stifle your laughter. For someone who's the human embodiment of a golden retriever, she looks a lot like a grumpy cat right now.

"Stupid mission," she grumbles while attempting to stretch her sore muscles. "I don't know where someone can get the money for that many henchmen."

"Says the rich girl," you reply with a smirk.Kate rolls her eyes but some of the tension in her shoulders disappears. 

"Oh, shut up."

Your cross your arms over your chest before raising an eyebrow at her. "I don't think you're in any position to talk to me like that."

A barely noticeable blush spreads across her features. "Sorry," she mumbles. "I just...I've missed talking to you like this."

You wish it didn't but your heart skips a beat at her words. It's stupid considering the fact she's the one who put you guys in this situation yet there's nothing you can do about it. Your heart still belongs to her.

"Is that why you've been ignoring me lately?" You ask, unable to keep the bitterness out of your tone. "Why are you even here, anyway? I'm sure your girlfriend's worried about you."

Your words cause the smallest of changes in Kate's body language. She hunches down almost as if she's trying to sink into herself and disappear. You've seen her like this far too many times to not know how she's feeling.

"She would be if she didn't hate my guts right about now," she replies with a sigh. "Can't say I blame her, breaking up with her and leaving on a mission isn't the most mature thing to do."

"Wow, you're finally self-aware," you tease her, more out of habit that anything else. "A lot can change in a month, huh?"

The lack of annoyance in your tone allows her to relax again. As much as you might like to be petty, she seems genuinely sorry and upset. "Okay, I deserve that. I've been an asshole to you."

"Yes, you have, but it looks like karma finally caught up with you."

There's an edge of concern to your words that you can't quite hide. She doesn't seem to be in excruciating pain which hopefully means she's not badly hurt but with how stubborn she is, you wouldn't be surprised if she was blatantly hiding a gunshot wound.

Kate chuckles as she leans back against your couch, the movement allows you to search her suit for bloodstains and, thankfully, you find nothing except a couple of tears in the fabric. "Karma's a bitch..but I probably deserved it."

"Probably?" You ask.

"Okay, fine," she grumbles. "I definitely deserved it. It just...seemed like the right thing to do."

You can't hold back the scoff that leaves your lips. "On what Earth was ignoring me after hooking up with me "the right thing to do"?"

She grimaces, the words hitting her a little too hard. You feel a little bad for her even though these are simply the consequences of her own actions. "I was afraid of ruining our friendship. I didn't...I don't want to lose you, y/n. You mean too much to me."

A part of you wants to keep being petty about the whole thing but you've missed her far too much to push her away now. Even though she probably deserves it for being such an idiot.

"You have a very weird way of showing it." You finally allow yourself to close the distance between you two, walking over and taking a seat next to her.

Kate's hand instantly finds its way into yours, her head turning to look at you. There's a thin layer of tears in her eyes that tugs at your heartstrings. "I know...and I really am sorry."

"I know," you reply, giving her hand a soft squeeze. "You're my best friend, Kate, I've always known you're an idiot."

She rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything more, allowing a comfortable silence to fill the room.

There's a lot more you both still want to say and yet neither of you makes any attempt at breaking the moment. It's almost comforting how quickly you fall back together like two slightly damaged magnets.

Finally, after minutes go by, Kate allows herself to tell you the truth.

"It's you," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's always been you and I'm so sorry I tried to pretend it wasn't true."

Her words bring a wave of relief, and a slight bit of annoyance that you do your best to supress. "Can you just shut up and kiss me before I kick you out?"

She laughs, a real one this time, before leaning forward and stealing your breath with a kiss.

It's not enough to fix all the damage but it's a start. And you're more than happy to flip the page with her.

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Luke/Andreas; wined and dined

For the prompt: Andreas and Luke meeting/hooking up the second time

I literally finished this before I realised you guys probably meant like, the second time they hooked up, not the whole second time 'round. Mea culpa, everybody. And for those who interpreted it the same way I did...you're welcome?

Andreas can’t remember the last time he was wined and dined.

Though maybe that isn’t the best way to describe it — Andreas has dinner meetings all the time, has sat beside clients at the best restaurants in almost every NHL city, sampled from the menus of half of New York's most exclusive restaurants. Always on the agency’s dime, of course, or his multi-millionaire client’s, or the teams they play for, or the teams who want to sign them.

There’s plenty of wine involved — though Andreas always restricts himself to a glass when it's business — plenty of dining. But a meeting’s a meeting, whether it’s in a conference room, patiently waiting for a GM who’s been around since there were still six teams in the league to figure out how to unmute his mic, or eating something exceptional at a Michelin Star restaurant.

So obviously that’s not what he means. It’s not that he hasn’t been dating either, though admittedly, he had less and less time to spare for it as he got older. And not that he hasn’t gone on dinner dates specifically, where he allows himself a second glass of wine, orders what he’d like, rather than ‘what he’s having sounds good’, unless, Andreas supposes, it truly does sound good. So there has been wining and dining, in fact. Possibly even a surplus of it.

And yet.

At a certain point Andreas thinks he just stopped expecting romance. It wasn’t any sort of resigned, jaded disappointment at the dating scene. Not that it isn't a shitshow, but it's probably better here than just about anywhere else. More an acknowledgment that most guys didn’t seem to be looking for romance, at least the ones Andreas was dating.

And that was fine, because Andreas wasn’t really looking for it either. Romance was undeniably nice, but he worked long hours, put almost all of himself into his job, and what he had left didn’t require much more than good conversation and some companionship, a spark of attraction, mediocre or better sex. Romance might have come along down the line, but things didn’t tend to last long even when he did find someone who met his simple — yet almost impossible to find — criteria.

That one, he thinks has more to do with him than it does with them. Andreas’ career is one of those things that’s attractive in theory, but significantly less endearing when he’s slipping in and out of bed at all hours, constantly checking his email or ducking out to make a call, flying off to who knows where, sometimes with plenty of notice, sometimes with none at all.

Maybe his life just isn’t conducive to romance. He doesn’t like to think that, but there would be worse things, wouldn’t there? He has a job that he finds fascinating, a job that offers something different every day, a job that, incidentally, pays him more money than he has the time to spend. He could retire tomorrow if he wanted to, live the rest of his life in comfort, dedicate all his time to searching for true love, but why would he want to? It sounds excruciatingly boring.

So he works — he works a lot, works more than he should, at least according to everyone he knows, including Dave, the giant hypocrite — and he — well, he works. But it’s fine. Most people have to search for meaning in his life, but he has his. If anyone asks about it — and they all ask, except Dave, that gem of a fucking man — he says he doesn’t feel like he’s lacking anything. He’s not lying, either.

That doesn’t mean something doesn’t squeeze tight when Luke conveniently ‘happens to be in town’ — though if there’s any town that actually applies to, it’s New York — when he figures they should ‘catch up’. Even as he tells himself that he’s just catching up with an old flame, one who doesn’t even live in the same country as him anymore. Even as he tells himself once for old time’s sake, and then twice doesn’t hurt considering they’ve still got chemistry, then when it’s been three, four, half a dozen, and if Luke’s got a return ticket Andreas doesn’t know when it’s for, but it doesn’t feel like it’s any time soon.

Luke has always been a romantic. He’d deny it up and down if Andreas said it, and it wouldn’t even be a kneejerk macho shit — Andreas doesn’t think Luke even knows he does anything out of the ordinary. Andreas doubts he was thinking ‘I’m going to woo Andreas’ as he asked him out to dinner, not the first time, or the second, not when he came with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine from a vineyard Andreas mentioned in passing, said he’d cook for him, laughing as he fought with Andreas’ temperamental bottle opener, scoffing when Andreas impatiently intervened before he could ruin a good bottle of wine.

Technically, he doesn’t even know if 'wooing' is Luke’s aim at all. He could just need the change of pace, miss the city, the speed of it, the convenience, and while he was here, Andreas was just as convenient as the rest of it — good conversation, good companionship, Luke more attractive than ever, the sex still fantastic. And they didn’t even have to get to know one another. What could be easier?

But Andreas doesn’t think so, at least not judging by the way Luke’s started looking at him.

Andreas doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him like Luke does, the complete focus of it. Looking isn’t a strong enough word — it’s more like he’s taking him in, trying make sure that he gets every single detail correct, the way Andreas imagines a painter would gaze at their subject, a poet at their lover. Luke’s no poet, but, well — maybe he is, a little, minus the words. There’s something about the way Luke looks at the world. Something about the way Luke looks at him.

It used to unnerve Andreas, a little, especially because Luke wasn’t only looking at him like that over romantic candlelit dinners and endorphin fueled pillow talk, but also during the most mundane moments. Andreas would be scowling at his phone, pecking out an answer to a client who decided he urgently needed to discuss his contract on a Sunday morning, a full season before it expired, and he’d look up and there Luke was, visibly taking him in. Sometimes there’d be a little smile on his face — the moments Andreas let himself be a little cranky there often was — but often there wasn’t, just Luke’s eyes on him, taking him in like he was never going to see him again.

It was — a lot. Luke was a lot, almost from the very beginning. Andreas thought he was going to get a regrettable hook up out of things, and then he thought it was going to be a few of them, and it was like a switch was flipped, and Luke went from the hot, fun, surprisingly good in bed client Andreas had completely unprofessionally fucked — and not just once, but a few times, and then a handful — to even more surprisingly good company outside of bed, to something Andreas didn’t quite have a name for. Someone who was gone even more than Andreas was, someone Andreas started to miss when he was gone. Andreas was the one staying put, most of the time, but Luke was the one always watching him like he’d disappear the moment he closed his eyes.

The look hasn’t changed, and Andreas imagines it means the same thing now as it did then, Luke who doesn’t blink, Luke who jumps both feet first, Luke the romantic.

It doesn’t feel as overwhelming now, though Andreas suspects he’ll be spending some time thinking about just how quickly Luke was on board. How quick they both were — Andreas can’t pretend he doesn’t know what’s coming, what’s already here, can’t pretend that isn’t something he wants, when he could end things with a word.

But he doesn’t. This time Andreas lets himself look back, and when Luke catches him at it, he doesn’t let himself look away.

[schoenpepper]

Isekai'd Chronicles 3

Intro: Savanaclaw in an isekai AU.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, you get a disc to the head in Leona's part, stuck in a janitor's closet with Ruggie

A/N: I love Leona and Ruggie. Anyways, enjoy!

Masterlist

You'd seen lots of movies before with the exact same meet cute, but it didn't really feel cute when a magical spinning disc almost made its way through your skull. Your swordsmanship reflexes are very handy in this situation, and you dodge just enough to not die. It does leave a pretty nasty bruise on the side of your forehead, leaving you to glare grumpily at the figure that was slowly walking closer and closer to you, whom you assume is the one at fault. It's a muscular lion beastman with braids in his mane and a bored look on his annoyingly handsome face that you kind of want to throw the disc at. But you won't, because you're smarter than that. And also because this is Leona Kingscholar, the second prince of the beastmen.

He doesn't apologize until you repeatedly annoy him to do so, and even then, he doesn't do anything to acknowledge his mistake. Now, that's just so rude! You didn't want to deal with the love interests any more than you have to, but there's no way you're going to let this lion roam penalty-free when he left such a big wound on your face. So you get patched up by Jamil (thank you, Jamil) and start on your mission to annoy Leona until he apologizes and actually does something worthwhile for it. You follow him around, studying while he naps, and you've found that he's annoyingly smart too, grumbling out answers you couldn't find on your own. So, hey, you use him as a free tutor while you wait for that heartfelt apology. In the next few days, you spend so much time with him that your friends grow concerned, especially when they hear it's because you're trying to get a sincere apology from Leona, of all people. You can tough it out a bit more, though.

You force him to come with you to the cafeteria instead of getting his food for him, and you pull him towards his classes out of spite. By some miracle, he reluctantly lets you play with his hair, and you decide to cut him some slack. You think you've annoyed him enough, and it doesn't seem like your apology'll ever come, so you give up. It's okay; you weren't supposed to be close again to a male lead anyway. It only takes two days after that for Leona to knock on your door with an apology as well as a bead bracelet like one of his own, and you find it in your dumb little human heart to forgive him. And he says he doesn't like it when you avoid him.

So...are you and Leona friends or...?

"Senpai, you're slacking again!" You complain as you stomp towards his little spot in the garden. He seems asleep, but from the twitch of his fuzzy ears and the sway of his tail, you know better. You huff and sit down next to him, touching the tip of his ear and watching it flatten against his head to avoid you.

"What gives, herbivore?"

"Ha! So you were awake." You smile victoriously. Lifting a hand, you show him the miniature wooden chess set you bought from a bazaar the other day. "I have come to demand a rematch!"

Leona chuckles and pulls you down, using you as a pillow with his tail wrapped around your waist. "You can lose later. Since you're already here, be a good pillow and stay still, alright?"

A certain hyena beastman seems to have come to hate you. Ruggie Bucchi isn't too scary though, as right now, you're still the heir to a dukedom and he's still just Leona's aide. But, to be honest, you don't like the feeling of being hated. Especially since you don't even know what you've done! You've tried asking Leona but one, he tells you to just not care about it, and two, that only makes the glaring worse. You walk in circles in the human dorms' kitchens, almost tripping on air when suddenly, the best idea ever pops up in your mind. You could give Ruggie donuts, it was his favorite in the game. And it really wouldn't do you any favors to have a love interest hate you when you haven't even done anything to him yet (that reminds you, where are the main characters?).

Now, you could buy donuts, but you're already in the kitchen trying out recipes for a party that Kalim's throwing, so why not just make them while you're at it?

The sugary fluffy treats open up the hyena's mouth real quick, and when you reassure him that there was no way that you would ever steal his gig by being Leona's servant, he's good already. And that should be the end of the story. But it's not, because apparently, you make the best donuts ever according to Ruggie, and he trades you a couple chores for a couple donuts every few days. He's a funny guy, so you don't mind too much when he hangs around. Plus, you two get to laugh about gossip and little anecdotes he'd share, and whenever you have free time, you decide to bless him with your presence by helping him cook and clean and do the annoying lion's laundry. And hey, you really can't imagine Ruggie killing you at this point, or where else would he get the best donuts in the whole world?

That's one less male lead to worry about, at least.

Ruggie's eyes are so blue up close. Uh, why are they so close?

"Shishishishi, don't move around too much." He whispers mischievously, shifting around in the tiny space you've both found yourself in. "Ruggie senpai? Why are we in the janitor's closet?" You whisper back, glancing at the small opening on the door.

"Some guys lookin' for me, let 'em pass."

"What did you do?" You chuckle softly under your breath, trying not to be too loud. Ruggie replies with a shrug.

"Traded some items, guess they regretted it."

You know he used his spell to 'trade', and it makes you sigh before gently scolding him. "Senpai, can't you at least not get caught? I know you can handle yourself but it's worrying, you know?"

"Eh? Worried?" His eyes are wide as he repeats your words, before agreeing blankly. "Okay...I'll be more careful since, you're... uh, worried or whatever..."

[priceswifebb]

Abandoned...

Price x reader... tw, death (I'm not good at writing angst so forgive me if it's bad)

*******************************************************

You were a clingy little thing really clingy... Price wasn't used to that not one bit, he was used to things being one and done enough time to satisfy his need then go back to it he was a busy man after all. he barely had time to care for himself how the hell was he going to take care of a relationship?

It was supposed to be a one and done thing just one night to relieve himself and then he'd be good. But you were so damn addicting, a nice little thing to keep his bed warm.

But price is a man of control he can't afford to get too attached, too emotionally envolved with you, you were a soldier you should already understand that you can't hold onto things forever you see it everyday with the comrades you lose, the people killed in the name of good, the sacrifices given to keep the peace.

You should already be used to keeping things at arms distance, that you need to keep your emotions at a certain level but you don't.

You kept your heart open to him even after he warned you against it. But you didn't listen, you didn't think he could do that you trusted him as a lover when he saw himself as just your captain.

So he made a decision... when it was just a mission with just the two of you a simple one really a supposed in and out grab intel and get out a child could do it.

As you were about to approach the building he lets you know "I'm going to scout around the area see of we have any trouble on our hands" his gruff voice meets your ears.

You weren't one to question orders you truly believed that he was watching out for the two of you. You couldn't help the smile that graced your face "copy captain meet you inside yeah?" You said a bite of playfulness in your tone.

He nods "see you on the inside..." and disappeared into the darkness of the night. You progress forward while he goes back to the heli. He was going to abandon you here but you were a capable soldier you knew how to get out of tough situations.

If anything he truly felt he was helping you out in the long run. He needed you to come to reality he needed you to realize that you were a soldier not some lovesick fool.

He was trying to get you off his back really but that's not what he tells himself. Though while it was nice to have a person to keep him company and warm his bed you just went above and beyond always with the hugging, kissing, leaving cute notes in his office, the gifts you were too damn attached to him.

As he makes his way to he heli you radio in "Price how's it looking over there? I don't know about you but somethings off." Price sighed feeling as if you were just trying to find a way to make conversation with him.

"Clear, everything's good over here focus on the mission" and with that he turns off his radio amd enters the heli.

You sneak further into the building it was dead quiet not a sound it had you on edge you held you gun as you made quiet steps to the supposed intel keeping a eye out.

Before you enter the room it was in you get shot at you run for cover cursing under your breath. "Price we git unexpected enemy contact here I got shot at need back up, how copy?" You wait to hear what he says as you get shot at. "Price I need help now" you grunt into your radio.

You try to shoot back but get hurt in the process there was more than one person a whole group a ambush.

"Fuck it's a ambush price I need your help now!" you plead into the radio confused and worried why the hell he wasn't answering "Price please I need you are you down how copy?" You get up to leave running down the halls trying desperately trying to get a answer at least a small acknowledgement that he's alive.

You feel a pain in you leg as you get shot panic fills you desperation claws at your core as you limp to safety you were scared, terrified where the hell was price you needed him, or at last know he was safe.

You try one last time "John! Where are you? Are yo-" a bullet silences you... forever.

It was a quick painless death filled with fear, panic and despair.

When you didn't come back after a few days price starts to worry he thought you would've been back by now where were you? After a couple more days he finally sends some people to go find you see of you were still at the site or if you had already advanced and were lost.

He feels guilt naw at him worry seeps into his bones but he tries to keep a brave face you had to be alive.

It's a temporary balm that soothes his soul for now that was until the body bag came back the sorrowful looks of the soldiers that found you told him everything he needed to know.

A guilt filled his heart when he finds out what happened and the thought that what if he had kept on his radio? What if he hadn't left would they still be alive? The fact he had to live with the guilt that he's the reason he sent you to a early grave the way you went out no one to soothe your worries to hold you as the light faded from your eyes.

Alone and scared left to bleeding for a selfish cause a way to push you away. You should've been alive but you weren't you should've been here talking off his ear but you weren't.

All because of him you were dead and you couldn't come back. And now he has to live with the pain the grief that came from knowing he had abandoned you willingly in enemy territory. He holds onto the anger that maybe if he had stayed for a minute longer you'd be alive.

[miiilowo]

Highlights / Notable info from the second Scott Cawthon Dawko interview for people who don't want to watch it

MISC/START OF INTERVIEW

- scott says the 1 thing he'd wanna go back and change/fix the past 10 years is FNAF world; said a lot of weird/bad decisions were made going into it, that he didn't like the graphics and it Could Have been a good game but he doesn't like it overall & he may consider making an improved sequel

- he was scared to hand FNAF over to steel wool but he thinks he got lucky w/ them

- refuses to play both FNAF VR games because they genuinely scare him too much; didn't want to beta test them (funny)

- he very much knows the fandom prefers pure horror and the supernatural but cant resist leaning into scifi stuff

- doesn't like the names burntrap and glitchtrap and they were supposed to be temporary

SECURITY BREACH

- half blames covid splitting up steel wools workforce for the games lack of quality and delays

- says his "vision of the game" was misaligned with steel wool, that he had a "very specific story in mind" for security breach and it didnt pan out like he wanted

- he takes fault for it, saying he conveyed it in a bad way; "I was trying to tell steel wool to do specific things throughout the game, put specific items in specific places, have specific characters do certain things, meanwhile not TELLING them what the story plot was. Because in my head, I was thinking 'Okay, when people find this, they'll connect this to this to this & it will all be revealed, and I thought I could do that without telling steel wool the story plot. That didn't work out very well because they got all of these pieces, and they thought it was their job to connect them in a way that made sense. And so really what you ended up having were the same pieces telling completely different stories...I don't blame them for that, I blame myself for that, because what I should have done was gone 'hey, heres the story, the pieces are here, here's how theyre supposed to connect'."

- burntrap originally even supposed to move; just supposed to see something you saw in between machinery or in corners, that you werent supposed to know his purpose even though he used to have a very specific one (that the fandom doesnt know)

- he knows it didnt turn out like anyone wanted & thats why they made the RUIN dlc, he hopes it redeemed security breach

- he said hes learned from that mistake with security breach and things should be better in the future

- he cannot share any thoughts on the mimic

- he likes vanny a lot, shes one of his favorites and he thinks that shes underutilized and should get more spotlight in the future

THE BOOKS

- process is 'he has an idea, he proposes it to the writers, they flesh it out'

- he likes bunny call the most, and that it's not entirely made up; he took his family to a summer camp. 2 older kids 2 babies. one of the things you could sign up for was a 'panda call' . a very 'deceiving title', he says. early in the morning, a bunch of the camp counselors dressed as killer clowns would come into your cabin and scare the kids to wake them up early and drag them off to do their daily activities (?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????) and he knew this was the case, & before it happened he started to sort of feel bad that he signed up his two youngest kids for it so he crept outside in the dark and 'started listening for screams' early in the morning. 'somewhere in the dark in these trees theres clowns and theyre coming for my cabin'

- acknowledges the fazgoo is weird and bad.

- the 'creature on the cover of blackbird is my sleep paralysis demon' (quite literally)

- says his least favorite story is the guy getting pregnant with springtrap's baby and that he Doesnt Know What He Was Thinking, that he swears he 'wasnt trying to pick on matpat'

- he says theres potential for the books to be adapted into shorts goosebumps style, but hes afraid it might be 'too much' and oversaturate the franchise

THE MOVIE

- he says a big issue was that there was material thats difficult to translate to the big screen; the nuance of the antagonists being that the animatronics are possessed by the spirits of innocent children, and he wanted to preserve the innocence of the victims while also having the horror and the kills, and thats a big part of why several screenplays got scrapped; he was more picky/cautious about that than anything else

- says the victims are sort of like 'confused, scared animals backed into a corner, who believe that adults are out to get them' & thats part of why they kill people + the manipulation from william afton

- he likes the movie overall but thinks specific things could be improved and they aim to do that with the second movie, but doesn't want to dwell on those shortcomings too much

- hes perfectly happy with critics hating it but the fanbase loving it & that was his goal for it

- when the movie began showing in theatres he said: 'i told myself i wasnt gonna go online i wasnt gonna read any reviews i had already told everybody at blumhouse and i told my legal team DONT talk to me DONT call me DONT email me DONT send me charts DONT send me facts or figures i dont want hear ANYTHING', saw 1 negative review on accident then started reading all of them immediately before the 2nd showing even happened

- 'for a couple of hours there i was distraught, i thought it was a complete disaster' (based off the initial negative critic reviews, before learning how much the fans loved it)

SECOND MOVIE

- Not giving away many details, but following the same formula; 1st movie based on 1st game, 2nd movie based on 2nd game, etc

- Thinks people will like it, that the setup for the 1st movie was the hardest part but now that they have that launch pad to go off of and hes really fond of what they have planned

- Emma Tammi is also directing the second one

INTO THE PIT GAME

- was originally just supposed to be a short novelty game, but they made something really good and he encouraged them to keep going & its turned into a full-fledged game

- he says its going to be a very 'unique experience' and that everyone will like it a lot

- says working with megacat (studio for the game) has been 'weird but good', that theyll vanish for several months and return with a bunch of info

SPINOFFS, GENERAL FRANCHISE STUFF, FUTURE PLANS

- Would want to work on a game based off of Fetch and that he thinks it'd be really cool

- Says he feels like he's sort of lost touch with the fanbase as things have gotten bigger

- Wants to have a better structure for managing a twitter page, official news feed, etc., wants more management than just Himself because it'd better service the fanbase

- He says theres another game planned with steel wool (not the mimic game) way down the line that hasnt been announced yet

- Making more choose-your-adventure fnaf book stuff

- He's 'very careful' with collaborations because he wants to preserve the fact its fnaf and he doesnt want it to be distorted or tainted, & even if he really really likes a game he won't do a collab if the vibes are mismatched, but he's a little more open to things like that now (but we have FNAF X DBD now! yay)

THE BOX.

- (paraphrased) His process for a lot of the lore in games is that he'll come up with half of a mystery and then come up with an answer as things progress, that he feels something is there and he makes the path for that thing to be revealed

- 'but sometimes when things progress the roads that have been put in place arent the same roads that were there before'

- he had something planned for the box. the progression of the story did not allow for the reveal of whats in the box

- he never pursued whats in the box. and he will never know whats in the box.

[fairuzfan]

I think what really frustrates me about accusations of antisemitism when we say certain crimes are committed by the Israeli government towards Palestinians is that there is this base assumption that the individual identities of the people in the Israeli state are subject to individualization and identification but then we come across Hamas and all the resistance movements and people automatically categorize them as "good" or "bad" who either are "supported" or "not supported" by Palestinians. Aside from the fact that there are diverse political opinions within Palestine, people always seem to separate Hamas as a uniquely terrible group that only seeks to inflict violence irrespective of their current status of people under occupation not knowing how to change their circumstances and not afforded any contextualization.

When Palestinians talk about certain crimes against us perpetuated by the state of Israel we're told "that's libel" because our oppressors draw their identification as a nation-state as a "Jewish" state. In the same breath they condemn Hamas for killing Israelis and being uniquely antisemitic and not because they're actually fighting for any liberation. Forget the larger political context — the situation in which this exists is irrelevant in the short term analysis of how Hamas is "A Terror Organization".

Hamas is a result of circumstance. They wouldn't exist if the occupation didn't exist. You can't deny that hamas is the direct result of israel, and not because of the incendiary things that came out about who funded hamas or whatever — they are, at their core, a resistance movement against a colonial force.

And yeah, there are Palestinians that have said they don't like Hamas I guess but that... doesn't really matter to people who aren't Palestinian. The reasons they don't like Hamas are within their context of occupational circumstances. You can't just take quotes of Palestinians saying they don't like Hamas and frame it outside of their circumstance as a people living under an occupation. It would be dishonest not to mention that the greatest threat Palestinians face is the occupation. We (Palestinians) all acknowledge that. The differences in political opinion within Palestinian society aren't applicable to Israelis and non-Palestinians because you are not affected by Palestinian society in the same way that Palestinians are affected by Israeli and USAmerican society.

Israelis literally debate in open courts about whether or not to shoot unarmed Palestinians who hold rocks. There are no such discussions in Palestinian society. There are no systems really that can allow for Palestinians to feel like they actually have a political representative. Fatah, or the PA, is just a blatant puppet of the Israeli government. No one trusts them lol. So which avenues are we supposed to turn to when we are shot even as we peacefully protest? If our avenues rely on Israelis to decide that for us, then is that liberation? Is that freedom?

There is just a deep, deep dishonesty in people's treatment of defining what a state represents vs an individual and its almost always weaponized against Palestinians when we talk about the violence we experience and how we counter it.