#enough to know enough never to blindly follow anything

[meiusoo-twistedtwst]

NRC Faces the Sorting Hat…

Hear me out this is ranked by a serious Potterhead who has DELVED into the associations of each house so allow me to share my thoughts on which Hogwarts house the NRC guys would possibly be sorted into —>

TREY & Cater seem like master manipulators, especially if all those overthrowing Riddle to reclaim Cater’s title as dorm leader theories are true (haven’t read Cater’s ch. 7 arc I rlly need to😭)

Azul & Vil are literally so ambitious, like Azul tried to erase his own past to theoretically present himself as a whole new, blank-slate person with absolutely no embarrassments or flaws while Vil’s determination drove him to insanity as he cunningly used Neige’s trust to try to POISON him

I think Ruggie & Jamil are very self-explanatory as they’re both ambitious & cunning, scheming guys. I chose Slytherin over Hufflepuff for Ruggie as although he’s extremely hardworking & relatively patient (he cleans up after Leona, not a job for the impatient) but he’s not actually all that loyal I don’t think. He only bonded with & followed after Leona because it would benefit him though… (now as I’m writing this I’m starting to think he might actually be a Hufflepuff-)

Silver & Sebek both showed lots of Hufflepuff traits but ultimately the events of Ch.7 pushed me to place them in Gryffindor instead. Just imagine how difficult it would be to turn your sword against the guy you’ve known & loved your whole life? The guy you had once sworn absolute obedience & loyalty to? They’re prime reinforcers as to why Neville Longbottom was in Gryffindor (it takes bravery to stand up against your own friends)

Ace & Deuce: Same thing as above but to a less extreme extent. Arguably, if the Ace is a traitor theories are true then he’d be a strong runner up for Slytherin with how cunning he is. I was hesitant with Deuce since he might be a Hufflepuff, but his background as a delinquent & his willingness to rebel against authority (cough cough Riddle cough) when he could have just stayed completely loyal like Trey (who may have just been plotting Riddle’s fall from grace then) made me put him in Gryffindor

Floyd was between Slytherin & Gryffindor but I don’t think he’s actually all that cunning? Like he knows he’s intimidating & uses that to his advantage but otherwise he doesn’t actively use detailed plots the same way Jade or Azul do? Plus, he’s just not afraid of anything; very brave

Epel was brave for being rebellious & rejecting peer pressure for the most part- definitely hard to say no when your dorm leader is a literal celebrity & accomplished student. Jack is also very self explanatory with how he’s not afraid to stand apart from the crowd (seen in Ch. 2) & he was never so blindly loyal to Leona to the point where he’d ignore or not notice his flaws

+He wasn’t on the Tier maker but I’d put Grim in Gryffindor with how recklessly brave he is (literally so chaotic & constantly defies authority)

I know what you’re all thinking but hear me out… Crowley is a bad (or at least morally grey) Hufflepuff. He preaches love, graciousness, & kindness- which are all dominantly Hufflepuff ideals, & people always overlook this but you don’t actually have to be a nice person to be in Hufflepuff. Every house is capable of producing dark wizards (there was an evil Hufflepuff in Hogwarts Legacy !) so even all those suspicions that Crowley might be downright evil could still make him a Hufflepuff, just not the stereotypical one. If he 100% idealizes kindness, even if he doesn’t positively reinforce it, then he’s still a Hufflepuff (though he is admittedly really Slytherin too)

Kalim is self-explanatory but I did kinda consider Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Kalim is brave to keep Jamil around even after he tried to defame him & he’s strong enough to keep a genuine smile on his face despite being betrayed & facing near death situations all his life. Now I know Kalim isn’t book smart but he has really high emotional intelligence, he knows a lot more than he lets on, as shown by some of the inquisitive things he says to others

my house :p

Crewel’s got that academically smart (alchemy must be hard) & creative mix (his passion for fashion), I feel like Sam values insight & knowledge mainly to increase sales but just valuing those things makes him a Ravenclaw, & I just put Trein in Ravenclaw because he likes history & different cultures (although he could be a Hufflepuff with his loyalty, dunno though since that’s really just him being a good husband)

Lilia could be a Hufflepuff, with his love & loyalty to the Draconia royal family, but his vast wisdom & eccentricity made me put him in Ravenclaw instead, though I am kinda hesitant about it. With Leona, I know he’d totally be a Slytherin with how cunning he is & although he’s very ambitious, he’s so lazy it’s counterproductive to his desires. But I put him in Ravenclaw because he’s actually so smart & very knowledgeable, wise even

The Shroud brothers honestly could have been in Hufflepuff with their family loyalty, but Idia’s attitude pushed him into Ravenclaw instead. He also loves delving deep into his passions & interests, using knowledge to his advantage. Same with Ortho since he’s a walking encyclopedia & also takes full advantage of his constant access to data banks & the whole internet. The Shrouds are almost like eternal, nonstop knowledge gatherers, especially with how their family literally devotes themselves to researching overblot

Rook is pretty self-explanatory with his intense curiosity & his pursuit for beauty could also be interpreted as a pursuit for diversifying one’s knowledge of the world so one could embrace all the beauty within different cultures & such. But he is also very Hufflepuff with how nice & insanely loyal he is… (so loyal to all he almost isn’t loyal….)

Jade could be a Slytherin, but I don’t think he’s as ambitious as Azul? He uses cunning much more often but otherwise, his genuine fascination with mushrooms & human life places him in Ravenclaw as at his core, Jade’s really into research & gaining more knowledge of a world on land that he was once a stranger to

I was thinking Slytherin could be a good fit for Malleus but I’m hesitant for some reason ..??

Don’t know much about Vargas’s personality & I wanted to avoid just tossing him in Gryffindor to mindlessly follow the jock=Gryffindor stereotype

I know many would put Riddle in Ravenclaw, & at surface level, I would do the same. But to be in Ravenclaw you actually have to believe knowledge is power…& Riddle doesn’t actually love constantly pursuing knowledge. Even if he thinks academics are important, he would have never been studying so diligently if it wasn’t for his mother’s influence and control over his childhood….

•°. *࿐ •°. *࿐ •°. *࿐

Where would you sort everyone?

🎄Merry Christmas everyone~

[enchantedephiphany]

I've found being too attached to labels of any kind blinds you to the truth because you don't see the flaws of what you're connected to. So I'm claiming very few labels.

[giuliettagaltieri]

Not Her Man

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Feathers fall gracefully slow

Warning: Girlrotting

Word Count: 3193

Part 1 • Part 3

You were always scared to do drugs.  

You saw Rafe at his highs, you were with him, keeping him from doing anything stupid like when he was so sure he could backflip from Tanneyhill’s rooftop and land on the grass perfectly. 

But you also wondered how difficult it was for him to get clean.  To suffer from withdrawals.  And as you lie on your fur carpet, staring at the glimmering crystals of your chandelier, with your closet half emptied and scattered all around your room, along with rolling wine bottles on the polished hardwood floor of your bedroom, you think you might have understood just a little.

Blocking him was the hardest thing you have ever done in your life, especially when it was your routine to giggle over whatever interaction you had through text that day.  The itch to open his account for any update made you want to bind your hands together.

Your parents are out of the country, busy overseeing their business, forgetting to oversee their daughter.  Your maids were there for you, at least they try to be.  They bring you food on schedule, even sliding in a few scoops of ice cream every now and then in your room when your sobs start to echo around the halls.

Rafe tried to contact you multiple times.  First, through your phone, but you blocked him.  Next, he tried to throw pebbles at your window, but your seventy-six year old gardener fired a shotgun at him, thinking that he was a burglar.  Next, he tried a different approach, he was sending you gigantic bouquets of your favorite flowers, making the hallway leading to your room look like a wedding set up, the flowers perfumed the entire house too, drawing a concerning amount of bees.  One epipen to your chef’s thigh later, Rafe stops sending them.

He never really does anything right.  All he does is mess up, create more problems for himself.  You almost wanted to give in, but you remind yourself of the things he said.  Anger and hurt quickly replaces pity.

A familiar chime of your phone had you groaning.  Your friends are probably going to have another attempt of making you step out of your room, like inviting you to have your nails done or shop, just to get your mind off of Rafe.

You just let the ringtone end and you go back to staring at the chandelier, wondering if you’ll be quick enough to get out of the way if it somehow falls.  Before you can plan a strategic roll, your phone rings again.

Blindly reaching underneath the scattered pillows, you finally locate the buzzing device.  You answer without looking at the caller ID. 

“Y/N speaking.”  You mumble lazily.

“Hey, girlie.”  There goes the high-pitched voice of your friend.  “Sooo, the girls and I-hush!”  You hear a bunch of girls giggling behind the line and your brows crease together in annoyance.  “We’re going on a party tonight and we’re thinking that maybe you’d liketocomewithus?”

You play with the lace of your dress, eyes just following the patterns when you hear your name being called again over the phone.

“I’m not in the mood for parties.” 

“You are never in the mood for anything anymore.”  She whines behind the line.  Her tone prompts you to sit up to pick up the stale wine you left out in the open for too long.  Taking a sip and ignoring the thin coat of dust it caught after you ransacked your closet for something that made you look confident, only for you to end up squeezing in the dress that Rafe got you as a present for your 13th birthday.  He didn’t pick it out for you, of course, but it still made you all fizzy and bubbly and excited inside.

You put down the wine to scratch at the waistband that is digging on the skin of your under bust, the fabric being stretched beyond its capacity.

“I know.”  You tried to sound apologetic.  “I just can’t, okay?”

She sighs, making you let out a grateful sigh.  There’s still some ceiling viewing you had to get back to.

“I’m picking you up at seven.”  She speaks with finality and before you can answer, she continues.  “Please don’t let that awful man get the satisfaction of knowing that he has this much effect on you.”  You can hear her begging behind the phone.  She and the other girls are just looking out for you.

With an unwilling heart, you decide to get on your feet, your socked foot nearly slipping the moment it touches the wooden floor.  Cursing, you finally crouch on the piled up clothes you threw earlier. 

“Fine, I’ll come.”  You roll your eyes.  “Dresscode?”

You hear an airy chuckle and you can imagine her pinching your cheeks if you were within her reach.  “Party’s open to all, Kooks or Pogues.  In the community beach house.  You dress however you like.  I’ll match your vibe, if you’d like.”

This makes a smile creep on your lips.  She’s definitely on the top 10 list of the most annoying people you know but you thank God everyday for a friend like her.  “You know I love you, right?”

She snorts before bursting out in a fit of laughter.  “Duh.  I love you too.”

“See you later.”  You grin.  “Tell the girls I’m coming too.”

“Sure, see you!” 

You hang up and get started on searching for the right outfit.  Well, there’s the classic white flowy dresses, but everybody wears them.  You could wear a short and a cute top, show some belly?  Blech, you’re not exactly in one of your maneater moods.  But perhaps if you covered it with that oversized white pinstriped polo, it could work?  Yeah, something casual yet put together.  It’s not like you’re dressing to impress anybody, or somebody in particular, you’d prioritize comfort over fashion tonight.

A knock on your bedroom door pulls you from your thoughts.  With a shrug, you throw your chosen clothes on your bed.

“Coming.”  You call while trudging over to open the door.  There stood your maid, she was looking anxious, wringing her wrinkly hands.  “What is it?”

She glances at your odd choice of clothing before she looks away so as to not make you uncomfortable.  “Well, uhm, Sir Cameron is here again, miss.  He’s waiting for you downstairs, in the drawing room.”

You press your lips in a firm line.  “Tell him I’m not here.”

Your maid smiles apologetically.  “He…he saw you in your bedroom window before he came in, miss.”

Huffing, you tap your feet impatiently.  “Just tell him I’m busy.”

“He said you’ll say that.”  She mutters, amusement in her tone.  “And he asked us to tell you that he can wait.”

You close your eyes to keep them from rolling.  “Whatever, he can stay as long as he likes, but I’m not coming down to meet him.”  You push the door a little wider and your maid’s eyes widen at the state of your room.  “I’m sorry, I know you’re busy but can you help me clean up?”

The rest of the afternoon was spent tidying up your room. 

It was dark out, a couple of minutes past seven when your phone buzzed.  Knowing that it’s your girlfriends, you pick your bag, filled with the usual party necessities and head downstairs.  It’s a habit, assigning yourself as the responsible friend who stays sober to look after the others.

You are slipping in the pearl bracelet your grandmother got for you last Christmas when you hear your name being called and in instinct, you turn around.

“Oh, right.”  You say with a tone that is drier than the Sahara desert.  “You’re here.”

Rafe’s standing just outside your drawing room, his hands falling to his side.

“Yeah.”  He spoke awkwardly, his eyes glancing at your outfit, familiarity crossing them before he looked at your eyes again.  “I was waiting for you.”

You exhale softly and he just stood there, waiting for your reaction.

“I know.”  You say simply.  “Gotta go.”  You start walking again to your door.

“Wait, Y/N.” He easily catches up.  “You’re…you’re coming to the party, right?”  He asks hopefully.

“Yes.”  You respond without looking at him.

Rafe smiles but it quickly dissipates when he sees a different car waiting for you.  “Hold on, I can drive you there.”  He says quickly, his hand gripping yours just to get you to listen to him.  “I can drive you to the party.”  He says in an uncharacteristically sheepish way.

For a second, you look at him, really look at him.  His smile grows wide.  He missed having your eyes on him.  You’re his best friend, and he’s used to doing everything with you by his side.  He also liked how dependent you were on him too, always asking for his approval.  You have a bit of an overbearing attitude but he would be lying if he’ll say that he doesn’t miss you doting on him too.  Perhaps you’re not the only one who’s dependent on this odd friendship you both have.

“No, thank you.”  You say before pulling your hand away with a sharp look thrown his way.  He watches you walk away to greet your friends.  He’s still stuck there, staring, even after the car drives away.

He doesn’t understand it.

You’re the emotional one, why are you doing so well without him?  You never go to parties with other people, it was always him that you stick close to.  Clinging on him, pulling him to the dance floor when he’s about to do a line of coke, or accidentally knocking his cup when he’s had too much drinks.

Running a hand through his face, Rafe decides to hop on his car and follow you to the party.  You’ll be in the same space as him in the next few hours.  He’ll get another chance there.  He’s certain of it.

He didn’t get the chance.

With you by his side all the time, you memorized his set of activities at parties and you evaded him perfectly.  Rafe decided that it was best to stand by the punch table.  You’d get thirsty eventually, and he’ll be there waiting if you do.

On the other side of the house, farthest from Rafe, there you sit by the porch swing, admiring the push and pull of the waves.  The party was at its climax and everybody was cramped inside the house, dancing and drinking, or doing unholy activities.  You don’t know how you managed to slip away from your friends but you’re glad you did.  You needed the fresh air.

You’re just starting to get comfortable when a man stumbles out the door.  You watch him struggle to keep himself up.  He looked lost? Or just flat out drunk.  You watch in amusement as he scratches his blonde head, he must be having a whiplash from all the blinding neon lights inside and suddenly his vision switches to the bright light provided by the LEDs. 

His feet twist and he starts to fall to the side, your head tilting to follow his fall.  You wince when you hear the loud thud of his body hitting the floor, followed by his muffled but loud groaning.

“Motherfu-”  He sits on the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he shakes his head like a dog.

“You alright, JJ?”  You chuckle.

He whips his head to you, cursing again when his vision spins.  “Y/N?”  He drawls out while rubbing his eyes.  “You saw everything?”

Still laughing, you get up to crouch next to him.  “I did.”  You smile when he groans out again.  “Are you okay?”

He props up a knee and rests an arm there, he looks buzzed, his eyes are heavily lidded as he stares off into the ocean.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  He glances at you.  “Well, this is a strange sight.”

“What is?”  You mumble as you look away from him, deciding to play dumb.

He shrugs animatedly, hands gesturing to you and the entire space of the porch.  “Usually, wherever you are, your boyfriend is not that far behind.”  He points a thumb behind him.  “And if I wasn’t imagining it, I’m pretty sure I just saw him brooding over the drinks.”

You chuckle dryly as you bring your knees to your chest.  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

JJ looks at you with an unimpressed face.  “That’s all you heard.”

Playfully punching his shoulder, you sigh.  “We fought.”

He frowns, back straightening immediately.  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”  It’s kind of sweet how your words seemed to have sobered him really quick.

“No!  No, he didn’t.”  You reply right away.  “Well, at least not physically.”

You watch him grimace.  “Outside physical fights, I have little to no idea how to respond.”

“That’s okay, JJ.  I don’t wanna talk about it, anyway.”

He gives you a boyish grin, as if to reassure you before scratching at his jaw, your eyes mindlessly follow his movements and you see a scratch.

“You’re hurt.”  You tell him, pointing at your own jaw.

“Huh?”  He touches his jaw and winces.  “Ow!  Must’ve scratched myself when I…uhm.”

“When you decided to attack the floor.”  You finish for him and he clears his throat.  “You’ll have to disinfect it.”

“Pfft, it’s fine.”  He shakes his head.  “It’s just a scratch.”

But you are already grabbing your bag by the swing and you return with a small kit.

“I forgot to bring wipes.”  You mumble before crouching down in front of him.  He swallows at your close proximity.  “Come on, JJ.  It’s just antibacterial cream.”

He hesitantly shows you his face and you gently apply the cream, tutting when he dramatically pulls away.

You grab his face and tilt it slightly and JJ squeezes his eyes.

“It fucking stings.”  He nearly whines, making you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be a baby!”  You huff and he stays still for a second, allowing you to smear the cream evenly and he rolls away from you as soon as you’re done.

JJ was muttering about God knows what while you’re busy putting your stuff away.  When you sit next to him again, he’s much calmer, a lazy smile back on his face again.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You throw him a playful glare.  “You’re welcome.”

He touches the scratch and you almost tell him off but he quickly pulls his hand away. 

“Why didn’t Cameron make you his girl?”

You blow out a big sigh.  “He doesn’t like me.”

“Bullshit.”  He laughs but he clears his throat when you look at him unamused.  “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”  You smile at him genuinely before averting your eyes.  “I wouldn’t blame him.  I mean, you saw how I can be.”  You chuckle this time but there’s no humor on JJ’s face, he’s looking at you rather sadly.  “I care too much and everybody suffocates around me.”

“I don’t.”  He says quickly.  “I was just being dramatic earlier.”  He rubs his nape.  “I’m not used to having people tend to me, I mostly just do it myself.”  He seeks your eyes and you finally look at him. 

You hear a creak behind you but before you can look, JJ cups your face to keep you from breaking your eye contact, making your breath hitch.

“I liked being taken care of like that.”  He whispers and your lips part slightly.

“JJ.”  You say breathlessly and he grins, his face leaning dangerously close to you.  “You’re drunk.”

He gently bites his bottom lip and you have to look away from his blatant flirting.  “I’m sober enough to kiss, I promise.”

This…this isn’t right.  

You gently push him away and his lips immediately form a pout.  “You’re such a kid, JJ.”

He clicks his tongue and angrily stoops as he glares at the ocean.  “You had no idea how long it took me to build the courage to do that.”

“Five minutes?”  You jokingly bump his shoulders, making his act break at the edges, a smile threatening to crack on his lips.  “Seriously, J, I can’t kiss drunk guys.  It’s unethical.”

He mimics you in a childish voice and buries his face on his palms harshly.  He turns to you again, with his hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead and red blotches appearing on some areas of his face.  “I’m not as drunk as you think I am.”  The way he glances at your lips had your throat drying up.  “I really wanted to kiss you.”  Aside from Rafe, you have little to no experience with the male attention and frankly, you don’t know what to do.

You place a hand on his shoulder and stiffly pat it twice.  “You’ll get over it.”

JJ looks at you exasperatedly.  “You’re taking this too lightly, this is my feelings we are talking about.”

You stifle a laughter.  “Oh, so you have feelings for me.”  You raise a brow at him and he nods his head enthusiastically.

“Every guy on this island has a thing for you.”  He says animatedly.  “If it wasn’t for your bodyguard, we would have made our move long ago.”

You are deeply flattered, you can’t resist the girlish smile from tugging on your lips, your cheeks slowly heating up.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

He looks deeply offended and places a hand on his chest.

“You’re the ultimate dream girl, stupid!”  He dodges a punch from you.  “You’re like the total package.  You’re sweet, and smart, you’re also very pretty, you can be funny too when you let loose.”  He wiggles his eyebrows at you and this pulls a laughter from you, a real, genuine laughter that had your shoulders shaking.

“When are you gonna get serious, J?”  Wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, you get up.  “Wait here, I’ll get us a drink.”

He gives you a two finger salute before lying smack down on the floor, with his arms spread out.  You shake your head, chuckling when you open the door.

And your hair stands on end.

There stood the very person you have been avoiding the entire night.

But for once, he isn’t wearing a scowl or a condescending cocky smile.

He was looking at you like a man defeated and broken.

“Rafe.”  You whisper as you reach for him but you stop yourself before your skin can touch.  He looks at your hand and then your eyes.  You don’t know if it’s the trick of light but you could have sworn his eyes are glassy.

“Hey, Y/N, everything alright?”  JJ calls.

Rafe glances at JJ and then back at you, he nods slowly as he takes a step back.  Your heart aches as you watch him take another step away from you but you will yourself not to follow.  He runs a hand on his mouth and he turns away from you.

You stare at his back as he leaves, torn between choosing your own pride or running after him.  For what seemed like hours, you stood there, frozen.  Still lost in the onslaught of emotions that surged through you.

Not Your Girl • His Girl

[rainydayathogwarts]

The beginning - Remus x Potter!Reader

How I imagine remus and potter!reader first got together as part of my remus and potter!reader secret relationship au! find more about them in my marauder masterlist warnings: talk of sex, interrupted kissing, nosey sirius and marlene. 0.8k wc

It had been wrong of Remus to look at you that way, and even worse to think of you that way, especially when your brother - one of his closest friends - sat to his right, legs spread wide enough for their knees to lightly touch. However, he couldn't help it. Not when you'd giggled with Lily, throwing your head back to take a shot because of Sirius's statement 'Never have I ever had sex in a public setting.' James had made a disgusted sound, looking away from his sister, still completely innocent in his eyes. Remus's eyes had widened, gaze connecting with yours across the circle of friends as you wiped your bottom lip with your thumb, sucking on it lightly to drink up the rest of the alcohol. He raised an eyebrow at you when you winked at him, turning away to ask the next question.

Sure, Remus's long lasting crush on you had always raised thoughts in his mind, like what kissing you would feel like or if you'd hold his hand underneath the desk during classes. But the reality of you being in someone's arms as they made you cum where anyone could walk in made his thighs want to clench, an open door of perverted thoughts flooding his mind. He only prayed that James didn't notice the way he cleared his throat, eyes tearing away from you when crossed your arms over your midriff, pushing your tits together to create more cleavage. Sirius met his eyes then, a playful smirk on his face that had Remus's heart dropping in fear of being discovered.

"I'm going to grab a butterbeer." You'd called out, hands bracing themselves on the couch behind you so you could push yourself up to your feet. Blindly, Remus felt himself following you, freezing to ask the protective boy next to him "Want anything Prongs?" But your brother had only shook his head, eyes of his own stuck on his girlfriend. At the make-shift bar, you'd popped open two butterbeers before holding the bottle opener in the air for Remus to take. "Sorry." he muttered when his fingers grazed over yours. You turned your body towards him, mumbling "Have I got you flustered over there Rem?" His heart jumped at the nickname, goosebumps forming along his skin when you lifted an arm to rest on his lean bicep. "Sorry, I just didn't think- didn't think you'd be the type to... well, you know."

He turned to face you after opening his own bottle, looking down to find your hands empty. He placed his own bottle on the table next to yours, taking a deep breath. "Why? Think about me having sex a lot, do you?" Remus gulped at your words, glancing over to where James sat, beckoning Lily over to sit next to him. She, however, was looking directly at your interaction. When Remus looked back at you, a smile was tugging at the corner of your lips, and he had almost forgotten that you'd asked a question. "I think about a lot more than just sex with you." Both your eyes widened in shock at Remus's confession, and it only then became clear to him that he might have had too much to drink.

Your smile had turned into a full Cheshire cat's grin, and you took a step closer to the taller boy, intertwining your fingers with his. "That's good, because I think about you too. You know, sex and all." Remus laughed as you slapped a hand over your mouth, a horrified look taking over your features. "Oh my god. Remus I am so sorr-" But your words were cut off when he cupped your cheek, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, you unanimously turned towards the fireplace where all your friends sat, making sure none of them had seen your exchange.

Sighing a breath of relief, you grabbed Remus's hand, rushing to lead him out of the common room and into the dark hallway where you finally pressed him against the stone wall, pushing yourself onto your tippy toes so you could give him a proper kiss, which he gladly returned, hands wandering below your hips to grab your ass, and using his grip to pull you impossibly closer to him. "Wow, that is one intense kiss." The teasing voice had you separating yourself from Remus with large steps backwards as he stayed leaning against the wall, his jaw slack. Sirius and Marlene stood with identical poses; hands on their hips and smirks on their faces. "Yeah, if you were wondering, the sole purpose of us coming out here was to spy on you." Added Marlene, holding her hand out, which Sirius immediately high-fived.

"Don't tell my brother!"

"Don't tell James!"

[girlokwhatever]

PLEASE 🙏 paige x reader where they are in a situationship and reader is jealous

༉‧₊˚.*ೃ༄༊*·˚･ﾟﾟ･｡ that should be me,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

yeah, you definitely hated her. you didn’t know her, but you fucking hated her.

you sat across the table from paige, secretly stealing glances of her and some other girl you had never met before in your life. you can’t even recall anyone mentioning her before tonight, but apparently she was close enough friends with aubrey to be invited to her birthday dinner.

you didn’t like her at all. her jokes always missed and killed the vibe, she said random out-of-pocket things every five seconds, and she had this insanely high-pitched laugh. or maybe you didn’t like her because of the way she was touching paige’s arm.

either way, she was running your last nerve thin.

you had arrived to the restaurant with paige, your held hands being separated once you walked inside. you and paige had something going on and most of your friends knew, poking fun and teasing you every now and then. you both wanted to take it slow since both of your schedules were busy, but you definitely wouldn’t say either of you were single.

she was your situation.

you wanted to sit next to her at the table but the plans had quickly changed when this girl insisted on sitting there. you had been halfway into the seat when her hand landed firmly on your shoulder, shaking to get your attention.

that was the moment that started it you think. that and the flirtatious touches. you thought it was so obvious what she was trying to do, but apparently paige didn’t pick up any of the cues.

it was embarrassing for you and her. here you were with all your friends on aubrey’s birthday night, watching as another girl practically groped paige six feet into her seat. the worst part was paige never did or said anything along the lines of ‘stop.’

you have the thought that it should definitely be you sitting next to paige right now. it could’ve been you and it should’ve been you. she may not be your girlfriend, but she is your something. you wish you could hold her hand under the table instead of having to watch the insufferable sight of another girl touching her.

“is this your natural hair? it’s really pretty.”

your eye twitched watching the scene unfold, eyes tracking the girl’s finger as it twirled around a strand of paige’s hair.

“nah, not the color. the waves are all mine though,”

paige smiles, flicking her hair over her shoulder. the girl laughs again, the high-pitched squeal ringing in your ear. the crazy thing is, nothing paige said was even funny, the reason for the girl’s laughter had flown straight over your head. if she was close enough, you think you might reach across the table and drag her to the floor.

her peppy laugh. her wandering and lingering gaze. the unnecessary touches. the-

“can i give you my number? i’d really like to hangout sometime y’know?”

you couldn’t even bear to stay for paige’s answer, excusing yourself from the table. your chair squeaked loudly against the floor, grabbing the attention of anyone who hadn’t already noticed you.

the girl turns to paige, wide-eyed, “is she okay?”

your anger boils over at her remark, wishing for both of your sakes she’d just kept quiet. it was infuriating watching her turn to paige and talk about you, right in front of your own face.

“are you serious-”

“i think she just has to use the bathroom,” paige gives you a look, one that you can only decipher as ‘no.’ “and the bathrooms are that way.”

she points you in a direction, one that you allow yourself to blindly follow. you just needed to get away from that table, too irked by that girl to think straight. you kept telling yourself that she couldn’t ruin the night, aubrey’s big night for that matter.

you’re leaning against the bathroom sink when a knock sounds on the door. it makes you jump out of your thoughts, assuming it’s just some random person needing to take a piss.

“i’ll be out in a second!”

“hey, it’s me.” you’d recognize her voice in a crowd of hundreds, something so distinct about it. you can’t deny it makes your heart flutter knowing she chased after in a sense, showing that she does in fact care.

you unlock the door for her, letting her slip through the frame before sealing it off again. she locks it for you, never even taking her eyes off of you.

“what was that?!”

she’s whisper-shouting, getting closer to you. it shocks you, not expecting that reaction from her. you wished maybe she’d acknowledge what was actually happening at that table for the last half-hour, but of course she can’t.

“seriously? are you serious?”

“yeah i’m serious. you looked like you wanted to rip her head off the whole time.”

you roll your eyes, “oh spare me please. she’s insufferable.”

you don’t even care how much attitude you’re using to rebuttal her, more concerned with the fact that she’s defending the girl. did she know what she was doing? was it all on purpose?

“she’s nice,”

“yeah i’m sure she is.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i’m sure it is nice when she touches you like that.”

she blinks. once, twice, three times before speaking. she gets a smug grin on her face like it’s funny or something, watching the way your forehead creases from being downturned so long. she feels bad really, but it’s still amusing to see you like this.

“oh, that’s what this is about.”

“what- i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you’re jealous.”

her hands find your waist, tugging you into her chest. after rolling your eyes into tomorrow you decide it’s not worth it to fight about it and she’s right anyway. you succumb to her affection, matching it equally when you wrap your arms around her stomach.

“can’t believe you’re jealous. it’s kinda hot.”

“whatever. tell her to stop eye-fucking you in the middle of the restaurant. it’s nasty.”

paige admires your honestly, realizing how strongly you both feel even though it’s nothing more than a situationship. she wants to ask you out but figures a restaurant family bathroom probably isn’t the best place.

“maybe i should be the one jealous. you’ve been so focused on her talking to me you didn’t realize i’ve been looking at you the whole time.”

you’re silent, head resting against her chest to hide embarrassment. the affect she has on you is insane and you both know that, a simple fact paige takes advantage of frequently. she feels your arms tighten around her and in response shifts your hips closer to her own. she never feels like you’re close enough.

she kisses the top of your head as you shift together in unison. she wishes she was brave enough to ask you out. it’s not like you’re going to say no.

as her own version of reassurance, paige pulls you into a kiss and waits until she feels you kissing back. it’s slow and sensual, both of you taking time to relish in the moment, as confusing as it may be. when you pull away, she finds solace in your body, resting her forehead against yours.

“yeah whatever. i’m going back to eat my dinner. but next time she touches you i’m flipping my shit if you don’t say something.”

“what am i supposed to say then, hm?”

“that you have a girlfriend.”

༉‧₊˚.*ೃ༄༊*·˚･ﾟﾟ･｡

here’s this short lil fic because i felt bad for depriving yall 😔

but i love you guys and hope you enjoy 🤭🤭🤭

I HAVE NOT YET SPELL CHECKED!!!

also i’m so sorry for slacking on the requests you guys (this is an older one) i’m gonna try to work on some tomorrow!! (emily content 🤭)

[robinmage]

personally i think a super important part of jinshi and maoamos relationship (esp at the beginning of the series, though still true) is how they both have had really negative experiences regarding sexually/romantically-natured exchanges. maomao grew up in a brothel, shes seen probably every situation possible under the sun of women being abused, manipulated, lied to, and used for a mans personal benefit. and as such, the typical "sweep her off her feet with honeyed words and false promises" approach doesnt work on her at all, because shes already seen 101 different ways that can go wrong. subconsciously or not, she just instinctively knows that those 'fake'-like people cant be trusted.

jinshi, due to his characteristically beautiful face, has had no shortage of admirers during his time at the rear palace. women that invite him to their room in the evening, give him food with blood or hair or whatever in it, gifts him literal aphrodisiacs. hes willing to use his beauty to get what he wants (never unreasonably, though) but it becomes evident later that he certainly has some kind of complex about it. hes only 19(?) at the beginning of the series, and hes already been working in the rear palace for long enough to garner a strong reputation. the only people hes close to is gaoshun and MAYBE gyokuyou. to him, it probably seems like everyone else only cares about how pretty he is, and ignoring anything beyond that.

and so he meets maomao, who reacts to his advances not just coldly, but with obvious disdain. she sees RIGHT through his false flirty demeanour, and seems to be one of the only few people to do so. he doesnt expect that, and that interests him. not being attracted to his face is, in jinshis eyes, a key trait to have in order to work with him. he seeks maomaos counsel time and time again (bc he likes his new toy but also) because he trusts her to work WITH him, not FOR him; actually using her head to figure out what the best conclusion is, instead of just blindly following him and giving him whatever she thinks would make him happy with her.

after it becomes obvious to him that absolutely none of his advances will work on maomao, he really tones it down and they enter what i call their "bonding stage", which is mostly just dealing with situations around the inner and outer court together. thats where the foundation of their relationship really starts to grow; jinshi values maomao for her intellect and straightforward attitude, and maomao values jinshi for being a genuinely kind and hardworking person. they start to hold each other in higher esteem because they actually see each others real selves, and likewise appreciate that finally someone can see them beyond that metaphorical impersonal veil.

[oblique-lane]

more mercenary analysis, whichever merc you want <3

Not a mercenary but... Okay!

Let's dissect Pauling

Always so collected, responsible and efficient. The one who is not afraid to get her hands dirty for the sake of a goal, and her performance is always one hundred percent. What could possibly be not cool about her?

Well, maybe the fact that this all is, in fact, an act. Of course it is.

I'm not saying her determination and dedication to her job aren't sincere decisions of her heart, she really enjoys it and shines in her work. It's just a matter of WHY and WHAT she's doing it for. And on what scale.

For her, her job is EVERYTHING. Eagerly working 364 days a year with barely any rest, masochistically putting herself in so much danger, blindly following the boss's instructions, not even hesitating to kill people standing on the way...

Wow, there's gotta be something going on here.

Well, obviously the Administrator plays A HUGE role in this situation. Why would Pauling trust her so much? Referring to the comics, Pauling trusted her wholeheartedly on whatever the Administrator was planning, even though she didn't know what it was. This blind following that vaguely resembles nothing less than a weird somewhat child-to-a-mother attachment. It's just a Boss, just a job, why?

Because that's what it is. Mother issues. Very apparent.

We don't know anything about Pauling's past, so there's where the headcanons begin:

I'm assuming her birth mother was very neglectful and dismissing, never acknowledged her daughter's accomplishments and struggles. No matter how hard Pauling tried to become "worthy" in her eyes, it seemed to be never enough, as if she didn't even exist at all. Maybe her mother was a substance addict or something and their household wasn't safe and stable, so Pauling had to become an adult early and run away from home as a teenager and find a job to get by.

(I assume that because I believe there was a mention in the canon lore that Ms.Pauling had been working for the Administrator for long long years (don't remember exactly), indicating that she started working when she was still a minor).

So, being taken under the Administrators wing, her young wounded brain found a substitute for a very thing she was lacking, subconsciously clinging onto the Administrator as a newly mother figure, in order to "get it right this time".

Administrators Strictness, responsibility and demandingness were the most favorite qualities of a person of authority in Pauling's eyes, in contrast to the laziness, unaccountability and indifference of the environment in which she grew up. She could finally strive.

This time she would show the mother figure that she's worthy, she's important and irreplaceable; she exists. She would prove that no amount of hardship is too much for her if it means approval for the Administrator.

And the Administrator kind-of-sort-of gave Pauling this pseudo-love in return, encouraging her to sacrifice herself even more for their work. Which is at the very least unfair, and at most just predatory. Administrators "love" was conditional, in contrast with when the real motherly love Pauling unknowingly expected. Administrator was too immature for a mother figure, too much in power for a partner or a friend, yet too close for a formal boss. What is this!? Something not nice.

The Administrator doesn't love Pauling for Pauling, she loves her working qualities. And thus, Paulings subconscious guess was confirmed that "I'm only important when I'm doing the job. I AM the job."

Tying your worth to what you DO instead of what you are is a huge dangerous existential rout one could choose. But she never really knew her importance outside of her skills, so she wouldn't know.

Now imagine how actually painful that character arc was for her, when the Administrator proved herself to be unreliable and secretive, and when Pauling started to question her intentions for the first time.

"... Because I trusted you!"

"Then why are you questioning me now?"

It wasn't even the real conversation between them, just Pauling's mind torturing her.

It reminded me of the crisis of a 4-year-old when they realise that their parents aren't perfect; they don't know anything and they CAN hurt you.This shattering illusion of almighty love. When a child stops believing that the "harsh love" their mother treats them with is simply an abuse.

Wouldn't it be terrifying to realise in your 20s thar despite running for "the mother's approval" all your life, you will never truly get it. If your mother failed to provide it to you at such a young age, nothing will truly substitute that, especially now, when you're an adult, no one will love your inner child the way it was supposed to be loved.

Unless you yourself decide to take that role.

...

Realistically speaking, it's not nearly that sever with Pauling! She's happy in the environment she's in, there's lots of interests for her to explore (Guns, fights, killin'!) So many adventures every day! Even if Pauling has her inner suffering, it's not that bad aa I describe it. Her mother problems may actually be an advantage, a reason she is such a good and caring boss for the mercenaries.

I'm just edgying things down for the sake of the clearer analysis. But still...

If the Administrator will be gone and Pauling loses her life-dedicated job... What will be left? Who is Pauling once Mann Co is no more? Can she answer that?

References:

– A video that helped me better understand the Good Girl mask:

– "Lise Bourbeau's 5 soul wounds model: Injustice"

[girlgenius1111]

hand in hand

part 2 to i'll never leave. never mind. what is healing? what is moving on? you aren't sure. if you know anything, though, it's that alexia will get you through this. and if she ever wondered, you'd get her through it, too. pretty angst but lots and lots of fluff. heavy discussions of grief.

-------

Maybe you were looking for a distraction, or maybe you just knew your girlfriend well enough to know that she wasn’t entirely herself. It could have just been stress, of course. She was clearly running herself into the ground worrying about you. At home, Alexia was attentive; she seemed to know what you needed before you knew you needed it. She was there, arms open, before you’d even registered that you needed a hug. She distracted you before you even realized you were spiraling. At work, it wasn’t much different. She always had an eye on you, and if she couldn’t for some reason, she made sure someone else did. It was, of course, suffocating at times. Even when it got to be too much, though, Alexia seemed to sense it. She’d leave to go get lunch with Mapi, or visit Eli. She’d kiss you softly, make you promise to call if you needed her, and head out. The few hours of space always worked perfectly, and by the time she returned home to you, all of your annoyance was gone. 

Alexia was perfect. More than perfect. You just had this tugging feeling in your chest telling you that something was off with your girlfriend. Your suspicions were only confirmed when you awoke in the middle of the night to find her in tears next to you; a sight that was completely out of the norm for her. 

“Ale? What’s wrong?” You mumbled groggily, reaching blindly for your girlfriend. Her sniffles had woken you, though they cut off sharply as soon as you shifted next to her. 

“Nothing, amor, nothing. Go back to sleep.” Alexia replied, her voice thick with tears. You forced your eyes open, pulling on her when she tried to roll away from you. 

“C’mere.” With a bit more tugging, you managed to pull Alexia onto her back, leaning up on your arm to look down at her face. Her skin was soft under your finger as you wiped a tear away, and you couldn’t resist the soft kiss you placed onto her cheek. “Why are you crying, baby?” 

She shook her head a bit, refusing to look you in the eye. “I just had a bad dream.” Alexia lied. It was concerning that she was lying about having a nightmare. Normally, that wouldn’t be something she’d openly admit, so if she was doing so now, it meant that whatever she was really crying about was much worse. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Alexia just shook her head, leaning imperceptibly closer to you. 

A conversation would have to come, that much was obvious. Now, though, her eyes were drooping, and you felt sleepiness creeping back up on you too. You both needed sleep, and whatever had to be said could wait until the morning. 

So, you just snuggled into her chest and laced your fingers with hers. You were pretty much as close to her as you could get, and she seemed to relax minutely at the feeling. “Wake me up if you have another dream, okay?” 

“Sí, amor.” Alexia whispered. 

It was almost too easy to fall asleep. You were warm under the blankets, and pressed up against Alexia. Her heartbeat was steady, as it always was, and the sweatshirt she was wearing smelled like her. You hoped she found you as comforting as you found her. 

You were almost completely asleep within a few minutes, but still awake enough to hear her when she spoke. 

“Te amo.” She whispered, sliding her hand up the back of your shirt and settling back into the pillows. 

-----

With a long training session the following morning, there wasn’t any time at all for the two of you to talk beforehand. Only when you’d both returned home, showered and changed into comfy clothes, did you decide to broach the subject of what was wrong with her, though you were beginning to think you had an idea of what it was. 

It had come to you that morning, when you’d woken up before her. She must have gotten warm in the middle of the night because she’d shed her sweatshirt, leaving her in only a small tank top. She’d been asleep on her stomach, and you’d been tracing your finger over her back tattoos when suddenly the cause of what had been bothering her became obvious. 

She was unusually clingy, today, although maybe it was just regular clingy, now. In the aftermath of what had happened, since your girlfriend had been keeping you as close to her as possible. You found yourself curled into her side on the couch, an old Barça match on the screen that Alexia was taking notes on. Instead of bringing it up casually, like you wanted to, it ended up spilling out of your mouth out of nowhere. 

“Ale? I wanted to check on you.” You said suddenly. Alexia startled slightly as you broke the relative silence of the room, and paused the TV. 

“On me?” 

“On you.” You confirmed. Alexia turned herself fully in your direction looking a bit defensive. “This has to be… triggering for you, no?” 

Alexia shrugged. “I guess.” 

“Look, Ale. This isn’t a one way street. I love you and I need you, but you can need me too. This can be hard for you too.” 

Alexia nodded slowly, blinking hard. “It has been a little hard. I do not like to see you hurting.” 

“And…” You prompted. 

Alexia shut her eyes tightly. “And it reminds me of what happened. It reminds me of what I felt, and what I saw my Mami and Alba go through, and-” she cut herself off, inhaling a shuddering breath. 

You pulled her in, slightly awkwardly as you guided her head into the crook of your neck.  She was taller, and she ended up laying half on top of you, but the anguish on her face and the almost panicked way she gripped onto you distracted you from that. 

“I am okay.” She promised, though you felt a tear drop onto your skin. “It is just hard.” 

“You don't have to be okay. I’m here for you too, Ale.” You promised.

A brief pause. “I do not think I am okay.” 

You fought a smile at the contradiction, running your nails up and down her back. “Can I do anything?” 

“Stay here with me and do not let go.” She requested. “Maybe… maybe we can go see my Mami later? And Alba? I would like to see them, but if you do not feel ready or-” 

“We’ll go for dinner.” You agreed instantly. It would be nice to see Eli and Alba. To feel the love of a family, even if it wasn’t yours. Though, if Alexia ever heard you say that she’d be furious; she insisted that you were a part of her family. 

As if stricken by a thought, Alexia wrenched her head away from you, a rather frantic look in her eyes. “Amor, this does not mean I do not want you to talk to me, or come to me if you are hurting. I can handle it, I promise, I-”

You cut her off, shushing her gently as she began to panic. Her greatest fear seemed to be you pulling away from her. You tried not to think about why that was. “Ale, I know. I’ve got you, and I know you’ve got me. Yeah?” 

Your girlfriend nodded, satisfied. “I’ve got you.” She affirmed. “And you’ve got me.” 

“Always.” You promised. Alexia pulled you in closer, and hoped that you really meant that. 

------

It seemed to come out of nowhere, the argument. One minute you were sprawled across your girlfriend’s body on the couch, watching a show, and the next, you and Alexia were on opposite sides of the room, dissolving into a shouting match. 

It began when Alexia asked a seemingly mundane question. One of her hands was tangled in your hair, and the other was tucked up under the back of your shirt, her nails bluntly scratching at your skin. You were as content as could be, until she paused the show, and sat you up off of her a bit. 

“Amor, the team is going out tomorrow for team bonding, to the beach. We should go.”

Perhaps it was her tone, or maybe the overly soft look on her face, but her comment felt ridiculously condescending. Like you were a child she had to convince to go to school. You didn’t like to be coddled. You might have even just agreed, if the way she’d phrased her statement hadn’t’ so suddenly infuriated you. And, alright, maybe you were a bit irritable. 

“You can go. I don’t feel like the beach.” You told her, trying to remain neutral and not freak out over something so insignificant. Alexia clearly didn’t pick up on the fact that you were annoyed with her, though. 

“You do not feel like much these days, amor. It worries me.” She commented, sitting up and attempting to pull you back into her. Again, you felt like a child, incapable of controlling her emotions and completely reliant on her girlfriend to hold your hand through everything. 

“You mean since my brother died? I haven’t felt like doing things? Shocking.” You replied bitingly, feeling a pang of guilt in your gut at the surprise that flashed across Ale’s features. 

“Hey, take a breath,” she began, trying to calm what she now realized was an impending argument.You were too annoyed to be calmed. Too annoyed by her hovering and her concern. Her never ending patience, her refusal to just get annoyed with you right back. You were overwhelmingly frustrated by the love she insisted on giving you, even during times you were sure you didn’t deserve it. 

With a huff, you stood up from the couch, and walked a few steps away. “No, Ale. I don’t want to go to the beach, and I don’t want to take a breath.” 

“Okay, then maybe we can talk-”

“I don’t want to talk, Alexia! Jesus christ. Could you stop hovering for two seconds? You are suffocating me.” You spat at her, feeling regret as soon as the words left your mouth. As soon as you saw her face go completely blank, and your girlfriend went from soft, comforting Ale, to captain Alexia, who had a poker face like no other. 

“I am sorry you feel that way, I am just trying to help.” 

“Stop trying! Stop helping, stop caring. It is too much, Alexia, it is infuriating. You are infuriating. If you want to go to the beach, go to the fucking beach. If you want to move out and stop dealing with me, go for it. I don’t care. I don’t care what you do, just leave me alone.” 

Alexia’s jaw clenched tightly, and you saw her take a few calming breaths. You hadn’t meant it, hadn't meant any of it, but you couldn’t understand why she wouldn't just yell back. You didn’t understand how she was looking at you with so much love and so much empathy when you didn’t deserve it. 

“I am going to go for a walk, and we can both calm down.” She said soothingly. 

“NO! We are having an argument, let’s have an argument Alexia. Don’t run away from it.” You snapped. 

Alexia shook her head. “I do not want to argue.” 

“Well I DO,” you shouted. “I can’t handle you treating me like I'm made of glass. Why won’t you yell at me? Why won’t you be mad at me and tell me I’m being ridiculous and sensitive and dramatic? Yell at me, swear at me, Ale, please. We both know I deserve it!” 

“No.” Alexia said firmly, taking a hesitant step in your direction, freezing when you moved away from her in response. “You do not deserve to be yelled at.”

“I was just so mean to you, Ale,” 

“Because you are hurting. And it is easier to be angry and to shout than to be sad. It is easier to push me away than it is to tell me what is going on in your head. I know how your mind works, mi amor. And I will not let you suffer by yourself because you think you deserve it.” 

She walked closer, and she looked so inviting. All you wanted was to collapse into the hug she was surely about to offer, bury your face in her sweatshirt and let her hold you. But you knew, you were sure, that you didn’t deserve that from her. Not right now. Maybe not ever again. 

“Stop,” you said weakly, though your feet refused to carry you farther away from the blonde approaching you. There was a sad smile on her face, and you felt like something inside of you was shattering at how perfect she was. She knew what you even needed when you didn’t know yourself. It wasn’t fair that she was so loving; you could never be deserving of it. 

“No,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around you, a bit relieved when you didn’t resist at all. You sank into the embrace, curling into her larger body. Your body shook with quiet sobs, that only grew louder as Alexia pressed a few kisses to the top of your head. “It’s okay, amor. Just let yourself feel.” 

How she knew that you’d been pushing your feelings away when you hadn’t even known was beyond you. 

Alexia didn’t let go until you pulled back, raising a hand to wipe your tears away. The blonde beat you to it, though, carefully brushing them away with her thumb, her touch so gentle you barely felt it. In that moment, her love for you was entirely overwhelming, and there was nothing you could do but accept it. Maybe you weren’t deserving, but Alexia clearly thought you were. Even after seeing the worst sides of you. 

“I didn’t mean anything I said.” You whispered. “I’m so sorry, Ale, you aren’t suffocating me, you are perfect and I love you. I love you so much.” 

“I know you did not mean it, amor, I forgive you.” She promised, leaving a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“I’m sorry.” You said again, the words mumbled against her lips. 

“I forgive you.” She repeated. Her brow crinkled as she studied you for a moment, a deep inhale before she spoke. “We do not have to go to the beach. But you are allowed to have fun, and feel joy. You are allowed to live, mi amor, even if Wesley isn’t. He would not want you to spend the rest of your life punishing yourself for something that was not your fault.” 

You reached up to lay your hand over where hers cradled your cheek. “You know me too well.” 

“No, I know you just right.” She murmured, once again bringing you into an overwhelmingly comforting hug. You buried her face in the crook of her neck, and wondered how it was possible for such an overwhelmingly perfect person to love you so much. 

And you went to the beach the next day. 

 ------

It was becoming easier for you to take time to yourself when you needed it. Maybe it was because you felt like the grief might build up and wash you away if you didn’t deal with it as it came, but regardless of the reason, you were trying to cope in a healthy way. 

Which was why, after a night of very little sleep and a morning that could only be described as the start of a very bad day, you’d told Alexia to go to training without you. It was unusual for you to take a day like this, and you supposed this was probably where Alexia’s anxiety stemmed from. You were exhausted, honestly, every part of you. Your brain and every muscle in your body ached for a break, and you decided to give in. Injury risk was always higher when someone was dealing with something like this, and you didn’t want to tempt fate.  Really, you just wanted some time to sleep some more, and maybe make a nice lunch for your girlfriend before she came home from training. 

She’d left you a bit reluctantly, offering at least 5 times to just stay home with you. You’d insisted, though, knowing that even if the club and your teammates wouldn’t care if Ale took the day with you, it would make you feel guilty. Even guiltier than you already felt.  

Everything would have been fine, if you hadn’t gotten so carried away cooking Alexia’s favorite lunch that you forgot to check your phone. After waking up from a nap, you’d barely glanced at it before heading into the kitchen to cook what you’d been planning on cooking. 

Leaving your phone behind on your nightstand. Unaware that Alexia was beginning to panic, as you hadn’t responded to any of her texts. She’d been gone only a few hours, but her worry for you seemed to know no bounds, and before long, she’d convinced herself that you weren’t responding because something terrible had happened. 

She could see it in her mind, what she’d find when she got home. She cried the whole drive from the training grounds to your shared home, more terrified than she’d ever been in her life. Alexia couldn’t lose you. And this simple miscommunication easily convinced her that she already had. 

“AMOR?” Alexia shouted, smashing the door back into the wall as she burst into the house. “MI AMOR?” She began to rush into the house, stopping in her tracks when you appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. 

“Ale? What’s wrong?” You asked, more than startled by the state your girlfriend was in. Alexia was breathing hard, her face was flushed, and she looked completely panicked. Still in her training kit, hair in a ponytail that was falling out, she looked so far from her usual put together self. Within a second, she was crossing through the living room and yanking you into a bone crushing hug.

“You are okay.” She choked out, holding you so tight to her it was almost painful. Putting your confusion aside for a moment, you nodded into her neck, entangling your hand with her hair. 

“I’m okay, baby. I’m fine.” You assured her. She leaned back after a minute, placing both her hands on your cheeks and looking down at you, her eyes overflowing with tears. “Ale, what is it?” 

“You are okay?” She murmured again, her eyes scanning over every inch of you. 

“I’m fine. What is-”

Your sentence was cut off by Alexia pressing a fierce kiss to your lips. Sinking into the kiss, you felt her tears dripping onto your cheeks, before she pulled away to try to stifle a sob. This time, it was you who leaned back, shushing her softly. “Tell me what’s happening, you’re scaring me.” 

Alexia let out a humorless laugh. “I am scaring you? Why did you not answer your phone all day? Not my calls, not my texts. You- you just did not answer, and I was so scared and I thought-” Alexia stepped away from you, pressing hard at her eyes with her hands, as if that would stop the tears. “You have to answer the phone. You have to. I cannot lose you, mi amor, I need you-” 

The pieces clicked together in your mind, and you deflated, guilty flooding your body. “Oh, Ale.” You sighed, pulling her back into a hug. This time, her grip was weak as she trembled against you, crying quietly. “I’m okay. I'm so sorry, baby. I’m okay.” 

Alexia held you and cried for a concerning amount of time. You’d really never seen her like this before, completely distraught. You got to see glimpses of Alexia’s vulnerability, normally.  A tear here and there. The occasional whispered insecurity when you laid in her arms at night.  As time passed, more and more glimpses, but glimpses all the same. 

This was more than Alexia had ever allowed you to see though, and you made sure to be just as comforting to her as she was to you when you were upset. You held tight to her, only leaning back to cup her face in your hands once she had stopped crying for the most part. You’d never felt so guilty for missing a phone call in your life. 

“Why- why did you not answer?” Alexia asked after a minute, wiping impatiently at her tears. You continued to stroke her cheek gently, recognizing that she wasn’t going to let go of you anytime soon. 

“I slept for a while, and then I was making you lunch. I left my phone in the bedroom, Ale, I’m so sorry I scared you.” 

“I thought…” she trailed off, the unspoken words hanging between the two of you until you hauled her back into you with a surprising amount of strength. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Ale.” 

“You promise me?” Her words were muffled by your hair, but you could feel that she wasn’t even really asking; she was begging. 

“I promise.” You meant it. There was no force, in heaven or on earth, that would take you away from her. If love for your girlfriend was all you had, you wouldn’t need anything else. 

She held you tighter to her, as if she was just making sure you didn’t go anywhere. You’d never felt so wanted in your life. 

------

It always weighed on her more, on the anniversary. Losing her father had left its scars on her, and they made themselves known some days more than others. Today was always one of those days. 

In years past, she’d take the day off from training and spend it with her family. It was maybe the one day of the year that Alexia allowed herself the grace to be imperfect, or so she perceived herself. Today, she let herself be a girl who really just missed her Papi. And when she became this vulnerable, there were few people she was comfortable being around. 

Really, it was just two people. Alba, and her Mami. More recently, you were on that list, too. 

The two of you had been together for two and a half years. The first year, Alexia had just…. Ghosted you the whole day, not sure how to let you into this part of herself she kept so securely locked away. Last year, you’d slept over and spent the morning with your girlfriend before she went off to see her family. You’d met them at that point, but Alexia wasn’t ready to bring you to something so… private. 

The last year had been a difficult one, and not just for you. Alexia was just getting back onto the pitch, getting back to herself, when your brother had died, and that sent everything back into a tailspin. Your girlfriend was so worried about you, all the time, that she’d almost missed the date. She would have, if her sister hadn’t texted her and asked what her plans were. 

It had only been a few weeks, and though you were doing better, Alexia wouldn’t feel right leaving you on your own, and she didn’t want to bring you into a situation that would remind you of what you were going through. Alexia decided that this year, she’d remember her Papi by doing what she was sure he would have done in her situation; making sure her partner knew how loved she was. Her father always looked after everyone, and Alexia had taken on that burden long ago. She’d sacrifice this one day of grief she allowed herself, if it meant you were even marginally happier. 

Alexia told her mother and her sister her plans to stick with you for the day, since it was a day off, and they’d both understood completely. Days off in the past couple weeks had consisted of a lot of sleep. Your mind was exhausted, and both of you were drained from the intense training and match schedule the team was sticking too. You spent most of the day asleep, preferably on or snuggled up against Alexia, and she was content to make sure you caught up on the sleep she knew you were losing. Your girlfriend had no reason to think that this day off would be any different. 

How absurd of her, though, really. To think that you wouldn’t know the significance of the day, wouldn’t acknowledge it. Though Alexia always treated you as if you were the most important person in the world, she hesitated to accept the same treatment. She didn’t think she was deserving of it, and that was something you vehemently disagreed with. She was the most important person in your world. Alexia should have known you wouldn’t allow her to put you first. Not today. 

------

Alexia woke up feeling heavy. Like her body knew the significance of the day. This was perhaps why she didn’t notice that you weren’t in bed next to her. Not until she reached over to hold your hand, thinking that while you were still asleep, at least, she could allow herself to hurt, but found only soft sheets. 

She got out of bed to look for you almost immediately. Because she wanted to make sure you were okay, and also because she very much wasn’t. And she desperately craved a hug from you. The delicious smell coming from the kitchen alerted her to your location, and she padded softly down the hall towards you. 

She moved silently, as she always did, pausing to watch you, because the sight in front of her was making her heart melt. You were standing at the counter, carefully plating some warm pastries. She recognized them as her mother’s recipe. They were some of her favorites from her childhood, and she was almost instantly overcome with emotion at the thought of you asking Eli for the recipe. You were humming quietly, looking more yourself than you had in a while. 

All of this, combined, seemed to be too much for your girlfriend, because when you saw her out of the corner of your eye, turning to smile at her, she already had tears in her eyes. 

Your smile turned sympathetic, and you abandoned your spatula and the pastries to walk over to her. You didn’t hug her right away, instead, you placed your hands on her cheeks and wiped away the few tears that had escaped. 

“Hi my Ale,” you whispered, guiding her face down and standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to her forehead. No sooner had you done that, than she was pulling you into her arms around you and lifting you up. You wrapped all your limbs around her like a koala, inhaling the comforting smell of her shampoo. 

“What did you do all this for?” She asked, voice muffled by your shoulder. Maybe you were just in a good mood. Maybe you hadn’t remembered. She wasn’t sure if she wanted you to remember or not, honestly. If you did, she’d have to allow herself to feel. And if you didn’t, repressing those feelings would probably be just as difficult. 

You pressed a soft kiss to her neck. “Did you think I wouldn’t remember what today is?” 

Alexia put you down, though she kept you pressed close to her. Her face was conflicted, but you were acutely aware of the sadness in her eyes. She shrugged. “You have had a lot going on, I did not want to take away from-”

“Your feelings do not take away from mine. Today is hard for you, I know that, and I want to do whatever I can to make it a little easier. Yeah?” 

“You do not have to,”

“Alexia, we are not pretending that today isn’t happening. You deserve to remember your Papi, and be as sad as you need to. Understand?” 

“I love you.” She murmured, her voice breaking. “Thank you.” 

“You don’t need to thank me,” you told her, something she’d been repeating for the past couple weeks. “Today is your day. We can do whatever you feel like doing, vale?” 

“Stay here. With you. Lay. Do nothing.” Alexia grumbled, sounding almost like a caveman. You smiled gently, nodding along with her requests. She could have asked you to cartwheel around the yard for hours on end, and you probably would have said yes. 

“Eli and Alba are picking you up at 7, though, and you’re going to go visit your papi.” 

Alexia’s tiny smile faltered. “Picking… me up? Just me?” 

You looked suddenly unsure, the previous confidence you’d had completely gone at her question. Had you done something wrong? “I don't want to intrude on your family time, Ale-”

“You are my family, and I want you there. I… I need you there. Por favor.” She requested, bringing her forehead down to press into yours. 

“Of course, baby. Whatever you need.” As if you’d ever refuse her. 

It only really hit you hours later, what she’d said. You are my family. It felt… right. It felt true, like it fit. When you were with Ale’s family, the gaping hole that your parents and your siblings had left after your last meeting didn’t feel so empty. 

Healing was a funny thing, and you were pretty sure that the loss of your brother wasn’t something that you could ever really, completely heal from. But as you sat at dinner with Eli, Alba, and Alexia, you saw joy in them. Joy they had evidently recovered in the years since their loss. It gave you hope. That maybe everything would be okay, maybe you could feel like yourself again. 

Eli and Alba were laughing to each other at some ridiculous story from when Alexia first began to drive, and your girlfriend was blushing slightly, though she was smiling a bit. You leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder. 

“Thanks for bringing me.” You whispered. You turned to look up at her, and you knew Alba was just seconds away from making fun of Alexia’s heart eyes, the ones she always seemed to have when she gazed at you. 

Alexia didn’t care that she was about to be teased, though. ‘Thanks for coming.” She whispered back, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek. 

Alba laid into her then, and Ale shook her head, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her. Alba could make fun. Alexia was too busy thinking about how desperately she wanted to really make you a part of her family to care very much about her younger sister’s teasing.

You kept calling her perfect. As she watched you tease Alba right back, this time about how she’d shown up to brunch a few weeks ago with hickeys all over her neck, looking like she’d been out with a vampire, you said, Alexia knew the truth. If she was perfect, it was because loving you made her so. 

------

haven't really been feeling like myself recently, and i wasn't entirely sure i wanted to write tonight but i gave it a shot and it didn't feel like ripping my teeth out with pliers. so a win is a win, hey?

i think i like this. i think.

hope you all enjoy 🥰🫶🏻 appreciate everyone being kind and patient <3 love to you all

tell me if you find typos okay thanks bye i love you

[endlessthxxghts]

Animals

DBF!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈2.5k

Summary: Joel randomly calls you and tells you to meet him outside. Your parents are home though, and you can't necessarily tell them that Joel, your father's best friend, is asking you to go with him somewhere. Do you give a little white lie and leave, or do you wait until it's safer?

Warnings: Age gap (unspecified, but legal). Reader still lives with parents but she is an adult. Nosy and controlling ass parents to their child who's a grown ass adult. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Inappropriate car activities while driving. Handjob. Blowjob. Pulling into a parking lot in broad daylight to do some stuff... P in V unprotected. ✨Save a horse, ride a cowboy (in a parking lot)✨ Reader has bit of a size kink. Cum swallowing... Is there a term for kissing with semen in both y'all's mouths??? (Don't look at me...). Possessive kink. Spanking (just once though). Getting caught... Exhibitionism...😵‍💫 I think that’s as much as I can say without spoiling anything, so! After you read it, let me know if there’s anything that I should put in here that I missed out on!

A/N: One of my all-time favorite songs is Animals by Nickelback. As of lately, though, with all my Joel brain rot, I can't NOT think DBF!Joel every time I play it... so... here we are... I recommend listening before or when you read, just to really add to the experience hehehe.😈 @javierpena-inatacvest I hope you’re hungry!😋 Enjoy, y’all!!!

MASTERLIST

You’re beside me on the seat,

Got your hand between my knees,

And you control how fast we go by just how hard you wanna squeeze.

“Two minutes, get your ass outside.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. You blindly brought your phone up to your ear with your parents in the room with you, not taking the time to check the caller ID. 

“I-” you start as you head to the bathroom, not wanting your parents to overhear anything. “I can’t just leave right now, and especially not with you.” He scoffs over the phone. “I was at the dining table with my parents, jackass.” 

“But you’re not anymore, right?” 

“No.”

“And they didn’t question you?”

“Didn’t give them the chance to.”

“Just get out here. I’ll drive off quick, no one will see,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Joel,” you say, your tone betraying your logical responses.

“Now,” he says before ending the call. 

Your heart racing, you peer at yourself in the mirror, making sure you look semi-presentable even though you know Joel’s intentions are going to ruin your appearance anyway. You leave the bathroom, heading for the front door as fast as possible. 

“Who called ya?” your dad asked. 

“Going somewhere?” your mother followed.

“Just a friend. And I’m gonna step out real quick, I’ll be back in a bit,” you say nonchalantly, not trying to raise any suspicion. Your mother raises her brow at you. 

“I really hope you both find the value in respecting people’s privacy,” you say, stepping out the front door as you speak, erasing the chances of any further commentary. That may have come across more harsh than you would have liked, but even into adulthood, the three of you have gotten into huge fights for your whereabouts. It’s not like you left them in the dark all the time or kept them up late waiting for you to get home. You were living under their roof, so you still respected their time. Yet, it was never enough. And you were too wound up thinking about Joel to bite your tongue.

He parked a house away, and you’re practically running at the speed of light to get into the passenger side so he can pull away before your parents decide to make it to the window to gain any more information they can. 

As soon as you get into the passenger seat, though, Joel has different plans as he immediately puts one hand around your waist and the other on the thigh closest to him. You’re barely able to shut the door before he pulls you into the middle of the bench seat of his truck, your body flushed against his. You squeak out at his quickness, his strength. He smirks at it. 

He lets his hand on your thigh drag up your body and situate itself on your jaw, turning your face to his and kissing you deeply, all tongue and teeth and thickened spit due to how fucking turned on both of you are. 

You pull away, breathless, “Baby, you need to drive off, now.”

“Shit, sorry,” he says, releasing his hold on you. “Stop distractin’ me,” he playfully scolds, a smile full of trouble across his face as he pulls out of the neighborhood. 

You scoff at him now, perplexed at his audacity to tell you that you’re distracting him. It makes an idea pop in your head. You’ll show him a distraction. 

You shift your body to face him. Your hand lands on his thigh, running up and down lightly, getting closer to his hardened bulge that’s been begging for your attention since he dialed your number. 

His grip on the wheel tightens, his jaw twitching, “Darlin’,” he grits. “What are you doin’?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say as you lean in closer, licking a stripe up his neck, your mouth at his ear. “Just,” you cup his erection, “being a distraction.”

His hips push up into your hand. He is painfully hard right now, his entire neck and face a bright red from your ministrations. You unzip his jeans, pulling it and his underwear down to let his cock free. You moan at the sight.

“I’m warnin’ you, girl.”

“Want me to stop?” 

Silence. 

He moves his arm closest to you to sprawl along the back of the bench seat, giving you complete access to him as he attempts to drive you two to God knows where. 

You scoot closer in, and let out a content giggle. You place a wet kiss at his pulse point, whispering in his ear, “Thought so, baby.”

You bring your hand up to your mouth and let your spit pool in your hand, bringing it back down to his length, spreading it all over before you wrap your fingers around him.

“Joel, baby, fuck-” you moan in his ear as you slowly begin pumping him, “look how fucking big you are in my hands,” you whine. “Can barely wrap my hand around you,” you say as you nip at his neck again. 

Joel begs his eyes to stay on the road, knowing that if he were to look down right now, he’d lose every ounce of his control — on both his self restraint and his damn truck. But, God damn, the slapping sound of your hand on his spit-soaked cock as you whine and writhe at his side has him desperate. He glances down for barely a millisecond, and he can’t help the groan that leaves his throat, his head threatening to throw itself back in utter pleasure. 

“Am I doing good, baby?” You ask him. “A good distraction?” You add, your lips ghosting his jaw with each syllable. 

“F-fuckin H-hell, baby,” he stutters, hips softly meeting every push and pull of your hand. “G-gonna make me c-crash this f-fuckin’ car.” 

With his admission, your grip gets a little tighter, pumps get a little faster, and you're giving extra attention to the head of his cock. He’s pulsing beneath you, breathing erratic, and you can’t stop the urge to lean down and take him into your mouth. 

On instinct, Joel’s foot falls a little heavier on the gas, causing him to drive a little roughly over a bump on the road. His dick pushes deeper into your mouth, causing the tip to hit at the back of your throat. 

The spit that forms from your gag reflex gives you an easier ability to devour him just as he likes—warm, wet, and sloppy. Your head begins to bob faster, your hand still supporting the base of him as you periodically cup him below, and he’s an absolute mess. 

You pull away for one moment in a choked breath, your hand now jacking him off, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. 

“I know you’re close, baby, I feel it,” you gasp out as your hand squeezes a little more, at the pressure you know makes him break. “Need you to cum, baby, need you to fill my fucking throat,” and with that, your mouth is back on him. 

“Oh, f-fu-…” Joel nearly growls out, immediately pulling into some random parking lot, thankful the nearest slot was empty. The second the car is in park, he’s shooting his load down your throat, his hand flying to the back of your head to keep you stuffed full of him. 

The way that you’re so turned on right now just by giving him the sloppiest head he has ever experienced has you absolutely dripping—an absolute moaning mess, vibrating him into overstimulation. He pulls you off, and you can’t help the blissed out smirk that forms on your face as you swallow almost everything he gave you, residue dripping down your chin. 

He brings your face to his, and his tongue collects up his own spend, feeding it back to you in a desperate, sloppy kiss—if you can even call it that. 

As your lips tangle in a nasty embrace, he’s quick to rip your bottoms off as he settles you on his lap. The feel on your pussy of his spent cock slowly getting erect again has you moaning into his mouth, your hips grinding down onto him, arousal coating him, urging him back to his full, hard length. 

“Sh-shit,” falls from your mouth as his trails further down, leaving kisses down your throat. Joel brings his hand down to pump himself a few more times, ensuring he’s at full attention. Your hips lift up on instinct, Joel notching his tip at your soaking entrance. 

You lower yourself onto him, going in with ease with how wet both you and him are, the stretch of him still providing that delicious burn. No matter how prepared or lubed up either of you are, that burn will never go away. You never want it to. It flips a certain switch of lust within you—an animalistic need—knowing just how fucking big he is, knowing that it’s all for you. 

Usually when you’re on top, he’s extra sensitive, and you wait for him to give the signal for you to move. That need is there, though, and you can’t wait. As soon as your hips are flushed with his, you’re immediately lifting back up and dropping down on him again, maintaining a brutal pace that has you both uttering incoherent filth. 

You place your hands on either side of his head, gripping the back of his seat to give you better momentum as you bounce on him. His hands are gripping at the globes of your ass, guiding your movements, fingertip-shaped bruises threatening to form. “Fuck, sweet girl,” he lets out, “just like that, baby.” His face is nuzzled in between your breasts, nipping and licking at them with every bounce of your thrusts. 

His words cause your pussy to flutter, a possessive feeling gliding down your spine. Your one hand releases the chair and grasps at the curls on the base of his neck. “T-tell me,” you stutter, ���t-tell me who my p-pussy belongs to,” you get out, licking into his mouth before you let him answer. 

His hips begin to meet your movements, his pubic bone providing the cherry on top to unravel you. His lips are against yours, breaths intertwining into the thick air, windows beginning to fog. “Mine,” Joel growls. Your hips speed up, the truck shaking and squeaking with every movement. “This pussy is mine. You,” he breathes, “are fuckin’ mine,” a stinging pain fills your senses before your brain registers the slap to your ass. 

Your thighs begin to shake and your body goes rigid, your climax teetering against the edge. 

“Joel,” you cry out. 

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, let go for me,” he coos. And just as he’s about to hold you down to fuck up into you, a car parks right next to you, door immediately slamming as the person gets out and urgently peers into the driver’s side window. 

Both of you are too close to stop your movements, the person’s face outside the car falling into pure horror and shock at what’s going on inside. 

“Oh!” you scream out, both of you using all your strength to stop but unable to.

“That’s my dad outside the car!”

Oh please, the keys, they’re not in the ignition,

Must have wound up on the floor while we were switching our positions. 

Before you know it, you’re pulsing around his cock as he fills up another one of your holes with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 

Neither of you realize just when your father scrambled back into his car and drove away, but the idea of getting caught turned both of you on more than you’d ever admit. 

You don’t get off of him just yet, both of you sitting in each other’s sweaty embrace as you let your breathing and heart rates return to normal. 

“So…” he says, rubbing circles on the small of your back. 

You look up at him, chin perched on his chest. “So,” you giggle. 

“What the fuck do we do?” he asks, wordlessly referring to the mishap with your father.

Not as worried, you mess with him before giving a serious answer. “Mmm,” you say as you place a light kiss to his chest, “I was thinking you give me your boxers since you ripped the only bottoms I have on me, and you deal with the jeans chafing your balls until you get back home.”

His eyes go wide, completely forgetting that he did that, and silently cursing himself for doing something so stupid. Luckily he decided to actually wear underwear today.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, I just-” he pauses for a moment. “You fuckin’ distracted me!” he says before he completely busts out in laughter, a deep howl filling the car. You smack his chest, your laughter following suit. 

“You motherfucker,” you say, sitting up a little straighter, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. 

He smiles at you, pure warmth and adoration in his eyes. He clears his throat, his face a little more serious. “I, uh, I was actually talkin’ about your old man, though.”

“I know,” you say, completely unbothered.

“Are you not worried?”

You shrug your shoulders. “No.”

“You don’t think he’s gonna try and wring my neck out?”

“Baby,” you laugh, “no, he’s not gonna wring your neck out. I wouldn’t let him, anyway.”

“Oh, gee. Thanks,” he deadpans.

“I promise you, I’ve got it taken care of.”

His fingers grasp your chin, pulling you in for another kiss, a little longer than the last. “I trust you.”

As soon as you enter the front door, you see both your parents at the dining table again. Though, this time around, instead of controlling and angry, they look pale and embarrassed. 

You stroll to the dining table, not caring to sit down, and you get straight to the point. They can’t even look you in the eye. 

“So? Did we learn our lesson about-”

“Yes,” your parents say in unison, “please just,” your mother continues as your dad starts to retreat anywhere else but here. “Let’s not talk about it.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest. 

“You’re a grown woman,” your mother says, rigidly. “It’s really not our business what you do anymore.” You peer at your father. He throws a thumbs up at your mother’s words, eyes still trained on everything else but you. 

“Glad ya guys came to your senses,” you say, offering a smug smile. You can’t help it. If catching you having the steamiest sex in an older man’s car is what causes them to stop breathing down your neck, then so be it. You’d have intentionally done something like this ages ago if that’s what it took. 

You start heading to your room when your dad finally speaks. Still unable to look you in the eyes. “Tell Joel I don’t give a fuck what he does—what y’all do—just,” he pauses to take a breath. “Tell him not to address any of this with me. Ever.”

“Deal.”

No, no matter where we go,

‘Cause everybody knows,

We’re just a couple animals. 

End Note: Well. That killed me. The amount of laps I took writing this...🥴 Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @akah565 @pedrostories

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[drabblesbyjubs]

Just Need Time

Astarion x gn! Tav Reader, Astarion is pent up but also wants to please the reader, he makes himself want to have sex with reader but reader stops him and helps him figure out what he really wants. Fluff, smut, a little bit of angst. Minors DNI

Tws// mentions of sexual trauma, Astarion’s backstory stuff, mild disassociation for a few minutes, trauma, mild spoilers for non ascended Astarion’s ending, sexual content and smut

.

I want everyone to know that I got stuck working an 8 hour shift as a cashier on my last day of work so I wrote this between customers, enjoy and here’s to my new job

Time with Astarion is sacred.

After nearly losing him multiple times throughout your journey to rid yourselves of the mind flayer parasite, you’d come to appreciate every second you spent with him. Every moment during the day, snuggling and spending time with one another, and spending the nights running through Faerûn and enjoying the adrenaline of exploration, it was all beyond precious to you both.

But especially to Astarion. For the first time in two centuries, he belonged to himself; he could go where he wanted, do what he wanted, be what he wanted. He was free.

That didn’t mean he was alright, though.

Being with you had helped. You’d shown him freedom, devotion, and everything he’d ever wished he could have had in a partner. But part of his mind was still stuck in that dark, dank crypt, the smell of mildew festering in his lungs, the fear at the sound of every footstep lurking in his heart. The nights he was let out, but not to be free, only to use his body to gain some innocent soul’s trust and bring them back for him to take out his most wretched fantasies on.

Astarion was usually the victim of these fantasies, but if Cazador truly did what he wished with Astarion, well, there would be no more Astarion to take out those fantasies on.

Those memories plagued his mind nearly every night. He often woke from the nightmares feeling utterly emotionless, numb to the world. Fear aches low in his heart, and he would roll over and scoot up to you. You took him in to your arms with no question; you already knew.

Sometimes he would jolt out of bed, too enveloped by the memories to realize it was you next to him. He would become defensive, either scared of you or insisting you leave before he came back. When he snapped back to reality, he was utterly humiliated, but you never shamed him, always made him feel like everything would be okay, and he would forget about the terrors of the night before by the time you two set out for adventure after sunset.

He wanted more than anything to be like a normal person; completely comfortable in his relationship, never a fear that things would go awry, blindly trusting and accepting of everything you did. You understood why he couldn’t be like that, and did your best to make him feel as close to normal as he ever could. And gods, did he love you for that. You were utterly hypnotizing, he would tear out his heart with a stake if you asked him; hell, he would carve the stake himself. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

And even if you assured him he owed you nothing at all, not even a passing glance, he wanted to give you something to make you happy.

He often gave you wildflowers, knowing you always liked the bright colors and soft petals, or smooth, shiny rocks he found down by the creek, or little rings and necklaces he bought with his dwindling gold supply when the two of you went in to town. But he still often felt like the only thing he could do right enough to truly make others happy was sex.

It was practiced, it was routine. Use his body to make someone feel good, make a few pretty faces, and it was done. There was something safe in the familiarity of it, though the sheer gut wrenching disgust that followed after never sit right with him.

You hadn’t hesitated to agree when Astarion had asked if you two could stop having sex for a while. Your sexual activity had dwindled anyways; you’d often told him you were just tired, or wanted to make sure you had plenty of energy for the coming day. Part of him knew you could tell he didn’t really want it, but he chose to believe you just wanted a break, and it was relieving to not have to perform. It was a weight off of his shoulders.

But more recently, he’d been pent up. He found himself craving release; of course he thought of coming to you for help, but the thought of having to perform, to make you feel good and owe you that pleasure after he takes his own, it sent a writhing sensation under his skin. As much as he liked the thought of seeing your eyes filled with arousal, he didn’t want that feeling of perform. Continue. No choice. Earn your life, bring him someone.

But he wanted to make you happy. He had done this so many times before; why not once more, just to see you satisfied? You must be pent up as well after so long of dealing with his unwillingness to give you something so simple. It was the least he could do. He would achieve the release he’d began to crave, you would be happy, and he would know you would stay with him and know he cared for you.

..

Astarion rolled above you, that mischievous smirk on his face as he looked down at you. You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “Someone’s in a playful mood tonight,” you teased, to which Astarion hummed.

“Whoever could that be?” He muttered, leaning down and capturing you in a kiss. You felt his tongue swipe across your lower lip, but before you could grant him entrance, he pulled away, before moving to mouth softly at your neck. You hummed, your chest fluttering as you inhaled. You could feel his lips move against you, his tongue swiping over the scars of old bites, his canines brush dangerously over the delicate skin of your neck.

You put your hands on his chest and muttered, “Mmh, Astarion, what’s going on?”

“Hmm?” He hummed in a questioning tone.

“You don’t normally act like this,” you breathed. “Is everything okay?”

“So sweet for asking,” he murmured. “Just pent up. I want you, if you’ll have me.”

You scanned over his face; nothing seemed off. He seemed genuine. You weren’t sure why he was offering though; this wasn’t like him. Maybe he was actually just pent up?

“You promise you’ll tell me to stop if it’s too much?”

“Of course, love,” he breathed against your neck, softly nipping at the skin there, threatening to break skin.

You nod, hands running up his sides. “Okay. As long as you promise.”

Astarion gave a pleased sound, his hands snaking under your shirt. Calloused fingertips brushed against your skin, before pulling your shirt up above your head and leaning down to kiss at your shoulders, mouth at your collarbones, and nip at your chest.

You gave a shaky sigh, your hand running over his back, savoring the way he arched against the touch. He was good at this, no doubt, but it always hurt you to think of *why.*

Astarion leaned back, staring down at you almost hungrily. He pulled his own shirt over his head, and you leaned up to run your hands over his chest and his stomach, before leaning in to kiss at the little dimple between his collarbones. He was always finicky about kissing his neck, especially on the side Cazador bit him on, and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable, so you stuck to his shoulders and chest for now.

His hands found your waist, and as you pulled away from him, you saw the slightest flicker of hesitation in his eyes before he pushed you down to the bedroll and pulled your hips up against his, softly grinding against the curve of your ass.

You weren’t worried about that, though; you saw the way his eyes had slowly grown foggy and distant, the loss of expression, and the way his touches became almost rhythmic, nearly robotic; practiced and routine.

“Stop,” you said.

Astarion snapped out of it in an instant, present here and now once more. “Are you alright? Did I do something wrong?”

“Hun,” you leaned up, scooting your hips apart from his and gently cupping his cheek. “You don’t want this. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I do!” Astarion insisted, “Gods, I want this, please, I’m sorry, just let me-“ he hurriedly began grabbing at your hips, trying to pull you closer,

“Darling, stop.” You said, more assertively this time. His shoulders slumped and the look in his eyes broke your heart; he looked desperate, but not for sex. He looked so disappointed in himself.

“Come here,” you whispered, pulling him in for a hug. “Do you remember when I told you you don’t owe me anything?” He didn’t hug you back, but his forehead rested against your shoulder, and he gave a brisk little nod.

“But I do want it,” he said. “I just… I don’t want to have to give back, or be touched, or just… I don’t know, but I want something, and I-“

You hushed him, sensing his growing stress, running your fingers through his hair. You turned to kiss his temple, and he gave a happy little sound.

“I think I get it. You want to keep your control of your body, but don’t want to have to feel like you owe me pleasure either?” You questioned. He gave a brisk little nod.

“That’s alright. Astarion, we don’t have to do anything like this, I never want your to feel pressured, and-“

“But I do want… something like this.” He rebutted. “I just… want a little. I don’t know. I really am pent up. I’ve tried handling it myself, time and time again… I’ll sneak off into the woods and… and try and rid myself of these desires. But it… just… never works. I cant… I just cant. Not alone.”

You furrowed your brow, feeling just how embarrassed he was with the way he shuffled and squirmed against you, clutching at your sides.

“You mean… you can’t touch yourself, or..?”

“I can’t finish,” he corrected, his words rushed and jumbled.

“Oh,” you said. You kept running your fingers through his hair, taking a moment to think. You could tell how much this embarrassed him, just by how he was acting. “That’s alright, Astarion. What do you want me to do to help?”

“I… don’t know,” he breathed. “I just… I’m frustrated, i need something..”

“Would it be too much for me to touch you like that right now?” You asked him.

He nodded his head, and you pulled back, looking at him as you gently cupped his cheek in your hand. “Use your words, baby boy.”

Red eyes looked up to meet your own, and you couldn’t help but smile at him, if only to comfort him. “Yes, i think that would be too much right now. Maybe… maybe I could… i could touch myself and you can just… be here?”

You flushed a little with his words, but you nodded and kissed the tip of his nose, savoring the way he smiled.

“That sounds wonderful,” you said. “Here,” you began shifting him and yourself.

You moved so he was laying on his side, you laying behind him. Your chest was pressed to his, and you felt the full body shudder that went through him. “This okay?” You asked, and he nodded. You cuddled up to his back, and hummed to him, “Then go ahead, my love. Do what you want.”

Astarion shuddered and you could feel him moving to slip a hand under the hem of his pants. You gently rested a hand on his hip, not sensing anything saying he disliked the touch. His breathing slowly started to pick up, and you could feel him palming himself softly before slipping his cock from his trousers. You hummed your approval, whispering to him, “That’s a good boy.” He whined low in his throat, and you felt his arm start to move as he began stroking himself. You couldn’t see at this angle, but you felt the way his body would slowly start tensing, his chest rising, could see the way he tried to bury his face in the pillow, knowing you were right behind him as he touched himself.

You muttered soft coos of approval to him as he chased his pleasure, each of your words making his breath hitch just a little more.

You hummed, “So good for me, my love, making yourself feel good. Love watching you like this.”

You could so easily ignore your own arousal if it meant you got to witness his. He was beautiful.

Astarion gasped, “D-darling, gods… the way you talk to me, hah, makes me… fuck, I need it…” he trembled and began stroking himself faster, throwing his head back against your shoulder. You smiled against his neck and kissed the pale skin softly, feeling the way it made his entire body shudder. His breathing slowly turned in to whines, desperate and strained.

Your hand ran up to his chest, brushing over the soft skin, savoring the little twitch he gave when your hand ran over his nipples, moving to feel over his rib cage as you whispered how beautiful he was, making himself feel good like this.

You kissed his temple, the saltiness of his sweat clinging to your lips. You caught a glimpse of that beautiful face when he tilted it back to arch himself; brow furrowed, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. “Gods,” you breathed, his red eyes fluttering open. You leaned up to kiss him, not even attempting to look down and see him desperately chasing his release, knowing that catching a glimpse may be too much for him.

You buried your face back in his neck, and he gave a high pitched whine, gasping, “C-can’t… fuck, love, ah, please, I can’t do it, please, help me,” the last words came out as a mere whisper, and you could feel how frantically he was moving in attempting to chase his release. Worried he would hurt himself, you whispered to him, your hand slowly trailing down his hips to rest on his upper thigh.

“May I touch you?” You asked.

“Please,” he nearly sobbed, letting himself go and grabbing your wrist to guide you to his cock. You wrapped your hand around him, heavy and hot in your palm. He was so hard, gods it must have hurt.

You stroked him softly, your thumb swiping over his tip and smearing his precum over himself. He whimpered, still holding your wrist, and you could feel the way his entire body trembled. “Please,” he whispered.

You kissed the back of his neck, mouthing at the flesh there softly as you set your pace, stroking him and smearing his pre over the head, making your hand much slicker to give him a feeling that, if his whimpers and trembles said anything, must be quite lovely.

He jolted and whined, his cock twitching in your hand. You could tell he was close, losing himself to the pleasure, one hand having a death grip on your wrist and the other tangled in the furs of the bedroll. You’d never seen him so lost to himself.

He gasped, “I’m gonna-!” Not even able to get out his warning before your felt his release coating your hand. You stroked him through his orgasm, savoring his gasps, catching the slightest glimpse of a furrowed brow and open mouth, eyes squeezed shut, tears threatening to spill from the corners.

“That’s it, hun,” you breathed to him. “That’s a good boy. Let go for me.”

You kept stroking him until he gave a particularly harsh jolt, with which you withdrew your hand and wiped it on some miscellaneous clothing tossed near your bedroll. You kissed the back of his neck, savoring the silence for a moment.

Astarion was the first to speak. “Thank you,” he said.

“I hope it was to your liking. It wasn’t too much?”

“No, it was wonderful. I… needed that. Do… you want me to take care of you?” He rolled over to face you, glancing down to your trousers. You could see the unease stirring in his eyes at the thought alone

You shook your head. “Tonight was about you. I’m just happy I got to see that pretty face when you came,” you teased, fighting a laugh at Astarion’s shocked and embarrassed expression.

“Gods, you’re truly insufferable sometimes.”

“Same to you, my love,” you teased, kissing the tip of his nose and pulling him in close. You pulled a blanket up over his waist to give him some cover, to which he hummed his appreciation and nuzzled in to your chest, sleep catching the both of you and luring you into its embrace.

[dyns33]

Family respect

Alfie and his Shelby wife are back for more adventures.

"He's back." was the first thing Ada said to her when she picked up the phone, and that was enough for Y/N to understand who she was talking about.

If she had hardly known her mother, who died when she was young, she had not really known her father well either, while he was still alive.

The relationship between Arthur Shelby Sr. and his family had always been complicated. Long before Y/N was found by Polly when she was still a child, abandoned in an orphanage.

It had been luck or fate that her father quickly spoke of her in a letter sent to his sister, writing that he had made a little mistake during a trip. That was what he named Y/N, his little mistake.

The rest of Shelby didn't see her that way. They had adored her from the moment they saw the girl, welcoming her as if she had always been there, as if they had the same mother, and protecting her against this drunken and tyrannical father.

There was still respect for the elders. This notion was important to the romani, and some therefore found it difficult to completely rebel against the man despite his many faults.

This was especially difficult for Arthur. He admired him when he was younger, and even though he often stood up for his brothers and sisters, he blindly followed him in all his dangerous plans.

He had often gotten into trouble because of their father. Tommy was very angry with him for that.

This naivety was undoubtedly one of the reasons why it was not Arthur who managed the family affairs even though he was the oldest.

He never complained about it. As he followed their father, he followed Thomas without question, recognizing that his little brother was smarter, more stubborn, better at business and discussion.

But the few times their father had passed through Birmingham again, he had criticized this absurd hierarchy, and even if Arthur eventually bowed his head to Tommy, there were always several days when he was at their father's side, ready to believe that he had changed.

“Where is Thomas ?” Y/N asked her sister, because she didn't want to hear more about their father at the moment.

"Probably in one of the neighboring farms, with horses, to calm down and stop himself from shooting someone between the eyes."

"And the others ?"

"Polly is talking to them in the kitchen. She thinks dad wants something. Money probably. He'll leave quickly when he gets what he's looking for. But I'm afraid of what will happen in the meantime."

"I'll take care of it. I'll find Arthur." Y/N promised, because absolutely anything could happen to Arthur Senior, no one would be sad, but leaving her brother was out of the question.

Ollie asked nothing when she ordered him to send his best men to look for her older brother, and to watch what he was doing. He just nodded, calling her "Madam Solomons" with great respect.

According to Alfie, she had seduced the poor boy, as well as many of his employees, the residents of Candem, and even the dog.

"Before, Cyril sat with me by the fire. Now he moans by the door until you come home. Where have you been, love ?"

“You know very well where I was.”

"Damn right. With Tommy, dear Tommy. Tell me, treacle, why are my men outside a bar instead of working, uh ? Because when I asked Ollie, he just shrugged his shoulders, saying that those were the orders, but I didn’t give those orders. Remind me who’s in charge here ?”

“Cyril.”

"Very funny, love. Hilarious. Why are my men following this crazy dog who serves as your brother ?"

Of course Y/N could have told him. It would have been simple, and Alfie would have sighed and muttered insults, because the whole thing was nonsense and he didn't really care because it wasn't his family.

Since it wasn't his family, she decided there was no need for him to know the details.

There was no need for him to hear about her father.

So she simply replied that Arthur was in trouble, which wasn't a lie, and that she was just checking to make sure he wasn't going to end up in prison, or worse.

If he noticed that she was hiding something, her husband accepted it, growling when he saw that she was petting the dog before giving him attention.

Several days passed, and Arthur Shelby Sr did not leave. The whole community was nervous, which made the London underground scene much more dangerous than usual.

So Y/N went by herself to look for her brother in the tenth pub he had visited this week, finding him alone at the counter while their father was talking with some men in another room.

"Little sis ! In my arms !" shouted the eldest cheerfully, hugging her tenderly.

“Come home with me.”

"I can't. Dad needs me for a case. A big thing."

"You know very well how this is going to end. It always ends the same way."

"You sound like Tommy… He's changed this time. He wants to make amends, he has the right for a chance."

"He got more chances than Judas got silver coins, Arthur. Please."

"Y/N ? Is that you ? You grew up, I almost didn't recognize you ! Beautiful. When I think that I saw you as a mistake, I was wrong, right, son ? A charming girl, all men would want her."

In that moment, she saw in her brother's eyes that he knew he had a choice. He could defend her, saying that no one talked about his little sister like that, not even their father. He could also keep quiet, nodding his head and not talking about her marriage.

But he had drunk a lot, and despite all this time he still had resentment towards Alfie, so he opened his stupid mouth.

“She married a Jew.”

Their father turned to Arthur with a huge frozen smile, waiting for a follow-up to this joke, before looking at Y/N again with a darker look, understanding that he was serious.

"… A Jew ? You married a pompous old cheapskate ?"

"Arthur, come home with me." Y/N insisted, trying to ignore everything around her brother.

"He's not just pompous, he's crazy. And a coward. And mean. He can't be trusted. I'm sure he's putting on an act to get to us, holding Y/N hostage."

"Well said, son. It's quite possible that's what happening. They know how to play, those dirty rats."

"Arthur, come home with me."

"I knew right away he was evil. Even before he killed Billy and betrayed us. I don't know why Tommy agreed to work with him again, or give him our sister's hand."

"Thomas has always been less clever than you. They're a bit sodomite, you know ? He was able to seduce several of us for sure."

"No… No, that bastard son of a bitch, I'll kill him."

"Arthur, insult my husband once more and you will never see me again."

The threat caught her brother's attention for a second, like the tears in her eyes, but their father continued to criticize Alfie, and as always Arthur followed him blindly, considering that nothing could happen to him if he imitated his father.

A hand then rested on her shoulder, while she hesitated between crying and hitting him. Alfie's smile was quick, only for her, as he held her close, watching the two Arthurs who were surprised to see him.

Y/N thought he would say something, but he only placed a kiss on her forehead, leading her outside, to the car that took them home.

"… I'm sorry."

"Why, treacle ? Because your father is an asshole and your brother is a moron ? I don't see how this is your fault."

“I’m still sorry.”

"Nothing I haven't already heard. I promise I've never slept with Tommy."

"You are not funny." she whispered as she sobbed, letting the tension leave her body. He muttered that she was probably right as he took her in his arms, not knowing what to do to comfort her.

It was not easy to lose a family member. Y/N had been close to all of her siblings, but Arthur had always been there for her, like she had always been there for him, standing up for him, respecting his ideas, making sure he was okay.

She loved him, but she also loved her husband, and she could not tolerate him being insulted like this. If she said she wouldn't talk to him anymore, then she wouldn't talk to him anymore.

So it was a shock to find him in the middle of her living room the next day, holding his cap with two hands, looking miserable and embarrassed. Y/N almost told him to leave, before seeing Alfie standing in the corner, tapping the ground with his cane.

"Well, come on, mate. The lady is waiting."

"… I'm sorry, lil sis."

“Where is father ?”

"In prison, I think. He organized bets, the coppers caught him. They would have had me if… I mean if…"

"If I hadn't saved his sorry ass." Alfie translated, raising his eyebrows when Arthur growled at him. "Maybe I should have left him, he made you cry after all and I didn't like it."

"Y/N… I'm sorry. Your husband is a cunt, but… But he's not that bad, I think. I see that you're happy and he treats you well. I want you happy. I'll try… If he doesn't deserve it, I won't knock his teeth out."

"Mazel tov ! I'll buy you a drink, brother-in-law, but I don't drink and I want you to leave. Well, come one. Out."

Her husband still gave Arthur time to hug his sister, who accepted his apologies on the condition that he finally stopped following their father in his usual bullshit.

To avoid any problems, she only notice out loud after he had left that he had not winced when Alfie called him "brother-in-law".

“Hangover, probably.”

"Or he considers you part of the family now. Normally it's Polly, Tommy, John or me who keep him from completely tripping."

"If you hadn't cried, I would have let him drown in his beer and piss, treacle."

"I wonder how the cops knew, our father is often quite secretive. He moslty ruins everything by wanting more money or insulting someone."

"Oh. Someone who looks like Ollie may or may not have called the police on orders from their boss." Alfie muttered, pouting a little.

"… Arthur will kill you if he finds out."

"He said you were a mistake. Nobody says my wife is a mistake. Would you rather he be in jail or at the bottom of the Thames ? Now I'm sleepy, love. I've been running all night to find your stupid brother, come to bed with me."

“It’s nine in the morning.”

"So what ?"

The only true thing her brother had said was that Alfie was insane, but that wasn't a bad thing. His madness was charming, tender and funny, and if one day they had children, he would be the most protective and caring father in the world.

You only had to see him with Cyril to be sure, even if he slammed the door in the dog's face to be alone for a few hours, only letting him in because he couldn't concentrate anymore. cause of the squealing.

"There you go. Before, he stayed on the ground, now he jumps in my place to press against you, while it's me who opens the door for him despite the cold and my poor back."

“Shut up Alfie and go back to sleep.”

"It is noon."

"Come here."

"Very well, damn woman. You will explain to my men why I was not at work."

Since they had all heard about Y/N's family troubles, they adored her, and were quite happy that the boss wasn't there to yell at them, no one asked Y/N why Alfie had been absent. They even gave her flowers, which greatly annoyed the King of Camden.

They didn't ask if he wanted flowers too. The Shelby sent him some gifts, bottles, money and a horse, without having to say why, and Alfie was in a weird mood for the rest of the day.

Y/N only smiled, knowing that he was lost but proud to be accepted by her family.

[tangents-within-tangents]

Hot take:

Crosshair does not have the Imperial disillusionment and redemption arc of The Bad Batch

Emerie does.

Crosshair has an arc for sure yes but it's not that.

I was thinking about this scene:

and how it got right what this scene kinda didn't:

(It was so close but then bad writing decided to undercut the moment with a joke rip)

And I think it's really interesting that these characters who were more or less raised into the Empire/First Order and chose to leave it are all directly asked why.

But take a look at Crosshair's answers in comparison:

Different context for the asking, yes, but still, compare that to clones like Howzer, Cody, Slip and Cade who left or turned against the Empire because they knew what the Empire is doing is wrong and they weren't just going to blindly follow orders:

Crosshair - Loyalty, Purpose, and Survival

Crosshair didn't choose to join the Empire (though the show isn't very clear or consistent about how much control the inhibitor chips have) but he did, for whatever reason, choose to stay. By the end of S1 we know his chip has been removed and as he definitively says "This is who I am." There were likely still other influences on his decision, but listen to how he talks about the Empire in the S1 finale:

Hunter: Crosshair, I've seen what the Empire is doing. Occupying planets and silencing anyone who stands against them. You know it's not right. Crosshair: You still don’t see the bigger picture, but you will. Hunter: Can't you see they're using you?

Crosshair: We’re not like the regs, we never have been. We’re superior. The Empire can’t protect the galaxy without strength, this is what we were made for. Think of all we could do, together!

Crosshair: You all are meant for more than drifting through the galaxy. It’s time to stop running. Join the Empire, and you will have purpose again.

Hunter: They destroyed an entire city! Crosshair: They did what needed to be done. Kamino, regs, the Republic, that time is over. The Empire will control the entire galaxy, and I am going to be a part of it. Hunter: Don't fool yourself. All you'll ever be to them is a number.

He undeniably knows what the Empire is doing, but he does not care. In fact it sure sounds like he actually supports it and finds self-meaning in it. Hunter spends those episodes trying to convince him it's wrong, he doesn't change his mind. In the end they offer him an out and he doesn't take it.

Wrecker: You coming with us? Crosshair: None of this changes anything. Hunter: You offered us a chance, Crosshair. This is yours. Crosshair: I made my decision.

The next we see Crosshair in "The Solitary Clone" (S2:E3) he follows orders and shoots the Desix governor, right after Cody heartbreakingly tries to do what's right and find a peaceful solution.

Cody: Tell me something, Crosshair. This new Empire, are we making the galaxy better? Crosshair: We’re soldiers, we do what needs to be done. Cody: You know what makes us different from battle droids? We make our own decisions, our own choices. And we have to live with them too.

After this (glorious!) conversation, Crosshair stays. Maybe this began to seed some doubts, but he actually smiles a few scenes later when Rampart assigns him another mission. It seems like for him it truly is as he said in S1:E1 (chip not enhanced yet but still influencing him enough for his brothers to notice he's acting strange):

Crosshair: Republic, Empire... what's the difference.

Crosshair: Orders are orders.

This unethical mission that finally pushed Cody over the edge does not change Crosshair's mind about the Empire, at least not enough for him to take action.

But what does?

Mayday: And here we are, the survivors. Combat troopers stuck babysitting cargo shipments. Crosshair: Mission’s a mission. Mayday: Yeah, I used to say the same thing.

Mayday: After all the clones have done, all we’ve sacrificed. We’re good soldiers, we followed orders. And for what?

This mission has nothing to do with how the fascist Empire treats the galaxy, it's about how they treat their soldiers. It's about how Mayday loyally fought and served his whole life and Lieutenant Nolan let him die

Lt Nolan: He served his purpose as a soldier of the Empire. Crosshair: You could have saved him! Lt Nolan: Perhaps you didn’t hear me, he is expendable, as are you.

Crosshair thought he could find purpose within the Empire, and Nolan shows him exactly what that will be.

His turning point is accompanied with this powerful visual of the ice vulture, a symbol (and threat) of death, and also set up within the episode a symbol of survival:

Mayday: Vicious creatures, but you have to admire ‘em. They find a way to survive.

This critical moment (that gives me chills, oof this episode is a masterpiece!) comes right after Nolan calls him expendable and directly threatens him:

Lt Nolan: And if you speak to me again with such disrespect I'll see to it you meet a similar fate, clone.

then Crosshair sees the vulture's shadow and turns to Mayday's dead body (ahh visual storytelling my beloved) then makes his decision:

Crosshair turns against the Empire not because he believes Hunter was right about this:

Hunter: I've seen what the Empire is doing ... You know it's not right.

but because he was right about this:

Hunter: All you'll ever be to them is a number.

Redemption (both in fiction and irl in my humble opinion) comes with making amends and reparations (which is why death 'redemptions' bother me so much but that's a rant for another time). Unlike Emerie, Crosshair never explicitly denounces the Empire or his own actions within it. He never says anything to specifically show if and how his views have changed from what he said on Kamino. He makes amends with his family (sending the warning message, helping Omega escape, making up with Hunter) but that's about it. The most we get in terms of acknowledgement is this:

Crosshair: I thought I knew what I was getting into with the Empire. I thought I was being a good soldier. Hunter: Nobody really understood what was happening back then. Crosshair: I’ve... done things. I’ve made mistakes. Hunter: I have regrets too, Crosshair. All we can do is keep trying to be better, and who knows there just might be hope for us yet.

Which is nice and all but it's more about them making up as brothers so it's way too excusing tbh ("no one knew what was happening back then" ummm? "The Empire will control the entire galaxy, and I am going to be a part of it" remember? And even if at first Crosshair was being controlled by the chip, the fact that he chose to stay after it was removed* means he condones and is therefore still accountable for those actions).

There's also a bit of self-destructive guilt:

Crosshair: Omega, don't risk anything for me. I belong in here.

Crosshair: Omega needs you both. So I’m doing this alone, it’s what I deserve. Hunter: Don’t even think about plan 99, Crosshair. Omega needs all of us.

(which thank you Hunter for pushing back on the death redemption bs and oh look is that a wrap up for the purpose thing?)

But there's no action taken on his part to make up for what he's done or to stand against the Empire (aside from the bare minimum of help with Tantiss, only after it became personally relevant, which like yeah he had trauma to deal with but still).

While I do think the implications/follow-up of Crosshair's turn should have been handled better in S3 (like rip Howzer! he deserved an apology, but that's a rant for another time), I don't necessarily** think this arc is a bad writing choice. It's just saying different things than we expect:

Maybe Crosshair's story is not about standing up against an unjust system, like we see with many other characters (who deserved more screen time but that's a rant for another timeeee). Maybe his story is about how even those who are loyal to the Empire, who actually believe in it, still suffer under and within it's rule. Not to garner sympathy, but to show that there is no winning.

Crosshair has another 'so what changed' convo in S3:E14 with Rampart, in which they draw parallels to each other:

Rampart: You used to believe good soldiers followed orders. Crosshair: Depends on who's giving them. The Empire betrayed us both. Rampart: And you think you can fight them? That's not you. You're like me, loyal to no one but yourself. Crosshair: I've changed.

(note how he says who's giving the orders, not what the orders are)

"Loyal to no one but yourself" describes Rampart much more than Crosshair, since we often saw Crosshair pride himself as a loyal soldier of the Empire whereas we saw Rampart abuse power to be self-serving within the Empire (like when he killed Wilco to save face). But they were both betrayed either way. Vice Admiral Rampart, snively Imperial opportunist through-and-through, shouts "I was following orders!" as he is arrested for the Empire's purposes. (Edit: and where Crosshair rejected the Empire and found new purpose fighting for his family, Rampart was still self-serving in the finale. He still tries to gain power for himself and he gets his comeuppance).

Even Hemlock, the final boss immoral Imperial scientist, who has to be benefiting the most from this system, echoes the expendability idea:

Hemlock: What I am working on is beyond your understanding. Something so vital to the Empire it makes me indispensable.

Then there's CX-2, also set up as a parallel/foil to Crosshair (fight me), who in the end is discarded as no more than a weapon, a tool that served it's purpose, showing us what would have become of Crosshair if he had stayed.

There is no winning in the Empire. Loyalty is not rewarded, it "doesn't go both ways." Everyone has to fight for their value. Even high ranking individuals** who for a time benefit from the injustice, in the end are just pawns to be used up and cast aside at a whim for the Emperor's gain. Even people who are motivated by self-interest alone cannot survive within this system, the only viable option in this galaxy is to fight the Empire and dismantle that system. (unless you conveniently find a magically safe island to hide away on but that's a rAnT fOr AnOtHeR tImE)

Which brings us back to...

Emerie - Cooperation, Compassion, and Choice

(Okay this post has already gotten away from me but I still want to talk about her to show the contrasts.)

Emerie may not have been given a lot of screen time to really flesh out her development, but there is a lot that is pretty clearly implied with her:

Crosshair: They’ll never turn her [Omega] over. Hemlock: They don’t have a choice. She is a clone, and therefore Imperial property. *Camera cuts to an angle more centered on Emerie’s face*

Crosshair: Give me your access card! Emerie: It won’t get you outside!

Emerie: I tried to warn him what would happen if he did not cooperate with the Doctor.

Emerie: Prisoner? Omega, you are no such thing. It will take time to adjust, but you will acclimate. It is far safer in here than out there.

Emerie: You should go back to your room. Crosshair: You mean her cell?

Emerie: Why children? Hemlock: Children are easier to attain and more agreeable to the subjugations. They are unaware of why they are here and what they possess.

Emerie: They're children. Like I was... Was your plan to discard them too? Nala Se: The Empire will keep them in order to control them.

We don't know a lot about Emerie's background, but it's clear that she had a lot less choice than Crosshair and less opportunity or ability to leave. Unlike Crosshair, we never directly hear Emerie's views of the Empire (and she was most likely 'taken under Hemlock's wing' before the Empire even came to power), but lets look at how she talks about the Tantiss:

"Remain calm. Cooperate and you might survive."

"Don't make this worse, Crosshair! There is no escape!"

"All of us serve a purpose here."

"The Doctor will inform me, if it's necessary."

"It's best not to ask questions."

"Escape is not possible, Omega. This is for your own good."

She honestly does the best she can within the system she is also trapped in. She tries to help Crosshair, Omega, and the vault kids in the only way she knows how (warns Crosshair about the hounds and security, tries to protect Omega from Hemlock, tells Scorch his "actions were extreme" with Jax, insists on overseeing Bayrn's retrieval, double checks his m-count (to give him an out), and tries to find out where he came from). When she gives Omega, and later Eva, the doll, I think it shows just how little she really is able to do here (and it's kinda heartbreaking imo).

The framing of this shot especially (after Jax's escape attempt) visually shows how Emerie herself is trapped/imprisoned:

Despite the fact that very little of this is Emerie's fault, she has very little power and she is doing all she can, the narrative does not excuse her role in the Empire:

Nala Se: What will you do, Emerie? Emerie: There is nothing I can do. I don't have that kind of power. Nala Se: Don't you?

Emerie: I- I was doing my job. Echo: Yeah, I’ve heard that before. You’re a clone. How can you be part of this?

These fighting-the-Bystander-Effect conversations parallel these exchanges:

Hunter: We made a choice, and so did you. Crosshair: Soldiers follow orders. Hunter: Blind allegiance makes you a pawn.

Crosshair: We’re soldiers, we do what needs to be done. Cody: You know what makes us different from battle droids? We make our own decisions, our own choices. And we have to live with them too.

which did not change Crosshair's mind. And honestly, all respect to Echo's disappointed mom glare™ but I think it's clear Emerie had already made her decision, she just needed help to actually be able to do anything about it. When she stopped Echo, with her voice wavering on the verge of tears (ahhh v good voice acting), she clearly had no intention of turning him in. She's on her own in the Empire's most secure facility with very little resources, if she had tried anything on her own she most likely would have failed and been killed

Omega: Emerie, you don't have to do this. Emerie: (sigh) I’m sorry, but I do.

but as soon as she is enabled by an ally, she immediately turns around to help: giving information and getting Echo through security, helping the kids escape, and giving Omega the tablet that allows them to free the other clone prisoners.

Where Crosshair's turn is accompanied by the symbolic imagery of the ice vulture, Emerie's is the removal of her (literally rose-tinted!) glasses:

Symbolizing how she has shed her previous views/indoctrination that altered her perception of the Empire and blinded her to it's wrongs. It's disillusionment.

Emerie's story shows us that even those who are raised and indoctrinated into this system can, should, and will escape (with needed help). Even those who did not choose to be apart of the Empire and are not making the decisions still have the responsibility and ability to act on what they know is right.

Emerie, whose name means 'Home strength' 'Brave' and 'Powerful', and "reflects the importance of leadership and authority in the workplace".***

While Emerie is only in one more scene after her turn, so the wrap up is a bit rushed, she still very simply does what Crosshair does not:

Emerie: Because I was wrong about this place. And I'm trying to do the right thing.

Echo: I’m sure Senator Chuchi would find what you have to say very helpful for our cause. Emerie: I have a lot to make up for. I’d like to help out however I can.

She admits wrong, takes accountability, commits to making amends, and leaves with Echo to go take on the Empire (which hopefully we will get to actually see more of some day).

So, in short, she's showing us how redemption is done right!

---

Notes:

*Whether this writing choice was good/logical/in-character or not is another discussion entirely, but I'm going off of what we were given, what the show is presenting in the canon text and (reasonably inferred/intentional) subtext. Crosshair is pretty multifaceted and I could only touch on so much here. There's a lot of ways to interpret his character/choices, but I tried to avoid the realm of speculation or fanon explanations (even if they sometimes make more sense lol).

**History and political theory are not my area of expertise at all, so I have NO idea how well this aligns with real-world fascism stuff and therefore what implications this storytelling choice could have. I think the message of like 'if you think you could survive or gain power by doing what the Empire/fascist system wants you are wrong' could be good (like how everyone is actually harmed by the patriarchy type of a thing), but I hesitate bc maybe there are those who would benefit, since it's a hierarchal system, right? If anyone more knowledgeable than me has incite to share, by all means

Either way, I do think it works in-story and in-universe though. It's just in the execution. The main problem (even from a strictly theme/character arc stand point) is the lacking follow-up/consequences for Crosshair in S3. Like you gave your character accountability by removing the chip and I think that's great setup for an arc but you gotta follow through with that and actually hold him accountable!

***I'm always curious when clones have 'normal' names, like why did they chose the name Emerie of all things? So I looked it up. Idk how reliable sources are for name meanings so take it with a grain of salt but it's still fun. Fits pretty well, and clones names have definitely had significant meanings in the past (like how Rex and Jesse both mean 'king') so I'm pretty sure it was intentional.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my tedtalk

[flwrkid14]

A Ghost of a Chance: Tim Moves to Amity Park

Tim Drake never expected to end up in Amity Park.

It wasn’t the kind of place you’d move to voluntarily—not if you valued normalcy, peace, or, you know, not being attacked by spectral entities on the regular. But when Danny asked—his voice soft, eyes hopeful—Tim couldn’t say no.

Amity was Danny’s home.

And maybe, just maybe, it could be Tim's too.

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

At first, it wasn’t bad. Tim had seen worse. Gotham had prepared him for everything, right? But there was something about Amity Park that made the shadows seem deeper, the nights colder. The constant hum of the town’s protective shields, the flicker of green in the sky—like the city itself was watching.

Danny blended back in seamlessly, slipping into old routines like he’d never left.

Tim… didn’t.

The ghosts were different. Gotham’s rogues, at least, followed patterns. There was a rhythm to crime, a predictability to chaos. Ghosts didn’t play by those rules. They came and went as they pleased, driven by grudges older than time. One day they’d fight beside you, the next, they’d haunt you.

Tim couldn’t get a read on them. Couldn’t strategize. Couldn’t feel useful.

And the more time passed, the more he felt like he was sinking.

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

The bats haunted him too. Every time his phone buzzed, he half-expected to see a message from Dick or Bruce, maybe even a snarky text from Jason. But it was always quiet. No calls. No emergencies. The silence felt heavier here, like it pressed against his chest.

Danny had Amity. He had the support of people who knew him. Tim was just... there. A shadow on the edge of Danny's world. Everyone knew Danny—Phantom, their hero. They didn’t know Tim. Didn’t know who Danny was to him. More than that, they didn’t seem to care.

Tim couldn’t shake the feeling. Replaceable. At least when Jason had thrown that word at him, Tim knew there was always something he could work on to feel needed. A case to solve, a system to hack, a mission to plan.

With Danny, there was... nothing. No crises to solve, no skills that set him apart. No place where he fit.

Danny didn’t need him.

And maybe that was the worst part.

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

They started drifting. Danny would leave in the middle of the night, chasing ghosts Tim didn’t understand. He’d wake up alone in a bed that felt colder by the day. The quiet wasn’t the comforting silence of the Cave or the stillness of a stakeout. It was empty. Lonely.

Tim wasn’t built for this kind of stillness.

One night, he followed Danny. Watched from the shadows as Danny fought a ghost—a brutal, violent storm of green energy and ice. Danny won, of course. Danny always won. But when he turned back, hair white and eyes glowing, something flickered. Something inhuman.

Tim realized, he doesn’t need me.

He confronted Danny that night. “Tim, you can’t follow me out there.” “Why not? You think I can’t handle it?” “It’s not that—” “Then what is it?” Danny’s eyes softened. “This place… it’s dangerous. The things I face, they’re not like Gotham’s criminals.” “I know danger, Danny. I’ve lived with it my whole life.” “That’s not the point.”

Tim’s voice cracked. “Then what is?”

Danny didn’t answer. And Tim didn’t press.

He stayed because leaving felt like admitting defeat. But sometimes, in the quiet moments, he wondered if love was enough. If Amity Park would ever feel like home. If Danny’s ghosts were more than just spectral enemies—if they were the distance growing between them.

He’d jumped too quickly, left too much behind, trusted too blindly. Maybe he’d wanted to believe that leaving Gotham meant he could start over, that he could belong to something simpler. Easier.

But it wasn’t simple. It wasn’t easier.

Tim missed the bats. Missed the chaos, the noise, the feeling of being needed. Here, he felt like a shadow—an echo of a life he wasn’t sure he’d ever get back. And if he stayed too long, he wasn’t sure there’d be anything left of him. He'd become just another ghost haunting Amity Park.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Precious, drunk boyfriend - Remus Lupin

Summary: In which Remus gets more drunk than he ever has and clings onto his girlfriend for dear life. Warnings: Public sex (but the room is empty), fingering, drunk sex (but consensual), established relationship wc: 1.4k

It was odd, to say the least. Remus Lupin was usually the more put together of the four boys; he smoked a cigarette by the open window with a beer in his hand, watching as the party roared around him. He would laugh at the sight of his best friends embarrassing themselves and always had open arms to welcome his girlfriend in, hugging you tightly as you drunkenly slurred words of affection at him. James now wondered if this was just payback for all the nights Remus had to look after them.

Remus hiccuped loudly, his head leaning back on the pillows. He tried straightening up with a wobble while James and Sirius exchanged a look of worry. "Where is she?" Remus slurred, looking around as he finally stood up. "She's gonna fucking kill us if she sees what we did to her precious boyfriend" Whisper-yelled Sirius as he and James rushed over behind Remus, who was confidently strutting over to where you and Marlene danced together. "Rem! Since when do you dance?" You giggled upon seeing your boyfriend, only to squeal when his hands snaked around your waist, harshly tugging you towards him.

You gasped, putting both your hands on his chest and looking up at him curiously. You were drunk enough to enjoy the special attention from your boyfriend, but not too much to miss the fact that this wasn't the ordinary Remus. "Remus?" He hummed distractedly, beginning to pull you towards the other side of the common room, where you instantly made eye contact with three very guilty looking teenage boys. "Peter, talk." You said, pointedly looking at the boy, knowing he could never lie to you. "Shh, don't look at Pete. You don't need him, just me." You couldn't help but laughing as your boyfriend pushed you down onto a couch. He sat down next to you, digging his head into the crook of your neck where he immediately started leaving kisses, whilst his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

Your eyes widened when Remus started to suck on the soft skin on your neck and you looked back at James, Sirius and Peter. "What did you guys do to him?" Peter looked down at his shoes, beginning to mumble under his breath, but it was Sirius who finally spoke. "Well, we all took a couple of shots together but that was it! The rest was all him!" You looked at them suspiciously, trying to push away Remus's head from the crook of your neck.

"Rem? Remus, sweetheart?" He pulled away from your neck, only to trail his kisses upwards, pressing some on your jawline and the side of your face. "You're so beautiful." A kiss on your jawline. "How can you be so beautiful and smart and kind at the same time?" Another kiss. "Fuck, when you come to me and sit on my laps after classes..." He took a long pause, and for a second you thought he was asleep "You make me feel so important. I love you. Only love you." You smiled down at him, brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes.

He wasn't going to remember anything in the morning.

"Rem?" "Mhmm?" "Want to come for a smoke with me?" And he was immediately up on his feet, tripping over air so that James had to clutch him by the shoulders so he wouldn't fall. Nothing would separate that boy from his cigarettes. You nodded your head towards the back of the main common room, making your way to a more secluded room within the common room, heading straight to the window. Remus blindly followed your footsteps, sitting in front of you on the window nook. He watched intently as you opened the window from your side, and leaned forward towards your boyfriend. You opened his jacket, reaching for the inner pocket where he kept his cigarettes hidden.

"You're not warm? Don't want to take it off?" He nodded, shuffling so he could take off his jacket, leaving him in a plain black tank top. Your eyes raked over his exposed muscular arms and you chuckled lightly, looking down at the box in your hands. "What? Too handsome for you?" Remus muttered, leaning back on the wall behind him with a smug grin on his face. You shook your head, getting on your knees to move closer to him. You didn't get the chance to sit back down before Remus' hands were on your hips, lifting you up slightly so he could plant you on his laps.

You moved to straddle him, directly facing him, and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. One of his hands immediately migrated from your hip to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss so you were forced to open your mouth, allowing his tongue in. The hand on your hip moved to your front, beginning to unbutton the trousers you wore. You broke the kiss, panting "Remus, we can't!" "There's no one here though." "You're too drunk." He shook his head, both hands now working on your trousers, tugging them down your thighs as best he could with you straddling him.

"You're not taking advantage of me. Jus' wanna make you feel nice." His hand slipped down the front of your lacy underwear, immediately finding your clit, which he started rubbing circles on. You gasped, hips immediately bucking away from his cold touch. "Light?" Murmured Remus, looking up at you, then down at the pack of cigarettes in your hand. You nodded, reaching for a cigarette and lighting it up before putting it to your lips and inhaling deeply. You guided it between Remus' awaiting lips, and he mimicked your movements, blowing the cigarette away from your face. His hand continued its movements, and he inserted two fingers in your wet entrance.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace, watching where they connected with your entrance, his second hand holding your underwear to the side so he could see. You cried out, his pace quickening, his palm applying pressure on your clit every time he pumped his fingers inside your pussy. You tried squeezing your thighs together for more friction, throwing your head back in disappointment. "So needy. I'm already giving you my fingers and you want more?" You nodded your head at him, but whined when he laughed, grinding your hips down on his stilling hands. "Please, please Rem." You begged, your head digging into the crook of his neck.

You mimicked his earlier actions, starting to suck hickeys on his neck as his pace began to slowly increase again. His free hand followed your arm that was hanging over his shoulder, and he snatched the cigarette from between your fingers. He inhaled again, his breath hitching when you sucked on his sweet spot and he coughed out a moan, the white smoke dispersing in the room. You smiled against his neck, which he must have felt, because his pace on your cunt became unforgivably fast, the pressure on your clit becoming too much for you.

Your thighs started shaking and you rolled your hips, riding Remus' hand in search for your release. He twisted his hand, hitting a new angle inside of you which had you unraveling on top of him, almost as though he had just been teasing you the whole time. You moaned loudly, trying to bury your moans in Remus' neck, but they still echoed in the small room. You whimpered as Remus removed his hand from your cunt, the burning sensation in your thighs beginning to soothe. Your jaw went slack, gaping at Remus, who put his fingers in his mouth, humming contently as he tasted your juices. He wiped the excess saliva on his trousers so he could help you back into yours. He zipped and buttoned you up as you observed him, still in a daze.

Remus smiled up at you, offering you what was left of the cigarette. You took a long drag, settling down on Remus' laps, who tapped you on the ass as a sign to get up. "Come on sweetheart, let's go get you cleaned up." You staggered up, and Remus, now seemingly sober, took your hand in his as he re-pocketed the cigarette pack, leading you out of the room. When you got to the main common room, heading towards the stairs, you made eye contact with Sirius, who grinned widely at your shaky figure, eyes going back and forth between you and a satisfied Remus.

[cagesofgold]

GEL

Shigaraki Tomura x Reader

“Easy does it…” You cooed, pressing your fingers to the side of his neck and kneading the soothing gel into the fraying skin. He winced in response to your movements, face crestfallen and eyes which always harboured his orphic thoughts downcast to his hands - where he fidgeted. You’d take a glance at his face ever so often, the plains which weren’t hidden by his tufts of pale hair slightly flushed by your closeness - the intimacy of your current act. Kindness he had never been shown.

The room was quiet, the dim warmth from the lamp resting on his bedside cast just enough light onto his rigid body to ensure the precision of your application. Your pyjamas would ruffle with the breeze from the window you had cracked open when you first entered his bedroom, where he sat hunched over his desk, fingernails digging rifts into his battlefield of a neck.

Each scar, each piece of skin that had been scratched raw filled you with unease. Unchecked emotions leading to the abuse of the only outlet he had, himself.

Dip. Your nail picked up a new clot of gel, and you adjusted yourself on his bed as you raised your hand upwards once again. He still never met your eyes, yet his previously sporadic fidgeting grew more consistent as his leg began to bounce - his bottom lip receding under his teeth in an anxious means to relieve some of whatever he was feeling.

“Tomura?” You whispered, vocal chords wrapped in every piece of empathy you could harvest from deep within you. He hummed in response, peeling one hand from the other as he ran it along his pulsing knee - breathing growing ragged.

Strangely, during your time in the league you were so accustomed to seeing Shigaraki as your leader. To follow him blindly, trust his wisdom like it was a spoken oath, footsteps moulding into his.

And yet, as you sat before him, knees tucked under yourself and gel slipping down your fingers. You saw for a split second, his truth. He was just a boy. You forgot sometimes, that he was younger than you - only 20 and was already leading the entirety of the anti - hero movement of Japan. A boy who had been wronged by every person in his life, and it made every protective vein inside of you pulse with anguish.

His countenance was marcid, and when your fingers gently traced along the side of his jaw his spine stiffened. The whisper of his name which fell from your lips reverberating around his entire body and rewriting every circuit that had been carefully crafted by those around him, cultivated until he was a prime product of his cruel environment.

“Tomura.” You smiled gently, pulling his face towards you softly. His eyes met yours for the first time since you popped the lid off the gel, and the usual sturdiness of his irises were replaced by unsteady waves of confusion. Confusion to how he felt, and the horrific realisation that he would never feel the same.

Your touch was like nothing he had ever had the pleasure of knowing. No firm pressure was planted, no spiteful words spit from your lips. You just smiled. Rubbing your thumb against the face he never wanted to look at - your eyes telling him everything he pleaded to hear his entire life.

Maybe everything will be okay. Maybe the blow to his well constructed persona has shone light on the true fragmented person beneath it. And it was all thanks to you.

“Can I do the other side, now?”

God, he’d do anything for you.

[d0youc0py]

I am ✨obsessed✨ with your page rn and would absolutely devour literally anything you give us.

I’d love to see your take on a kidnap/break in fic though!

Something like they’re coming home from deployment and their girlfriend/wife calls them (or laswell) freaking out about a weird car outside, or someone following them home.

Just damsel in distress x protective husband vibes all the way 💕

“If we’re gonna go after them we’ve got to do it tonight. They’re expecting us to wait till they get further south.”

“What about all the civilians in the city?”

“No explosives. Everyone keep your silencers on. They won’t know till mornin’.”

“Ghost has a point. If we wait till next week our chances of hittin’ ‘em are slim. They aren’t expecting it now.”

“Yeah, they aren’t expecting it because it’s too damn risky. We do it tonight they have home advantage. We wait- all of us are on an even playing field.”

“They outnumber us 10-1. We’ll never be even.”

A knock at the door halted the conversation. A errand boy stuck his head in.

“Sorry to interrupt but this came for Lieutenant Ghost. Labeled urgent.” He held out a yellow package for Ghost.

“Thanks.” Price nodded his head, politely dismissing him.

“Johnny I’ve dealt with groups like this before.” Ghost spoke tearing open the flap of the package. “We need to get ‘em while their sitting pretty.” He blindly reached his hand into the package, his brow furrowing when he touched something soft. He pulled out a clump of hair.

His right leg gave out and he grabbed the table to steady himself.

“Ghost?” Price questioned. He gripped Ghost arms to steady him- and also urge him to give him an answer.

“No.” Ghost mumbled. He ripped open the rest of the package frantically searching for any sign that this was a prank. It couldn’t be real. Couldn’t be. “No.” He growled out. He pushed his way out the door his whole body shaking from anger and distress. The rest of the 141 followed quickly behind him. “Laswell.” She jumped as the door slammed open. “What the fuck is this?” The sight of him was enough to send a spike of fear through her heart. He threw the package with your hair on the table in front of her.

“Oh no.” Her eyes were wide and she wracked her brain for any answer she could give him.

“You said it would be alright.” He was seething at the point. Tears welled up in his eyes and he couldn’t be bothered to hide them. The air felt like it was being choked out of the room. Everyone’s skin was crawling. “You said they couldn’t trace her.”

Laswell looked over at Price for some relief, but he had not the slightest clue as to what was going on- or how to fix it. Just that Ghost was more worked up than he’d ever seen. Even Soap was shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“What going on?” Price asked. Ghost growled not answering the question, his eyes still trained on Laswell.

“I didn’t think they could.” She said calmly. “I didn’t enter it into the computer- it’s in your file, but not electronically.”

“Someone clarify what’s going on.” Price snapped.

“Ghost, let’s not jump to conclusions. Are we even sure this is Y/N’s hair?” Laswell tried to soothe.

“You think I don’t know my wife’s hair?” Ghost gritted. Wide eyes and jaws hung open around the room.

“Wife?” Soap whispered.

“Yes, my wife.” Ghost affirmed. “After I had that accident a few months ago I thought it would be a good idea to finally make her my emergency contact. So if I died she wouldn’t be locked up in the house waitin’ for me.” He explained. “You told me it was safe.”

“It is. They had to have gotten her info somewhere else.” Laswell insisted. “I’ll start tracking her down. You need to calm down.”

“Fuck off.” Ghost sneered. Price gave him a warning shoulder shove.

“We’ll go see if we can find anything on our end.” Price sighed.

•••••••••••

It only took an hour to find you. Gaz was able to PinPoint your location- conveniently the sight they were debating on hitting tonight. They could barely keep up as Ghost began to load up. The odds weren’t great for them. They knew they were coming, they were outnumbered and they had a hostage- who they knew at least one of the team members would die for in a heartbeat.

“Ghost you need to keep your cool. Stick to the plan. You can’t help her if you’re dead.” Price was trying to talk him through it. Ghost had completely shut down. He’s had nightmares just like this before. You being tortured- just the way he had been. He swallowed back bile just thinking about it. He paced back and forth on the plane, growling and grumbling like a caged bear.

They were ready for the 141. All waiting patiently in their places ready to take down the infamous task force. Smirks spread across their faces and they could practically taste the celebratory dinner that awaited them. What they weren’t ready for was the absolute hell that was about to be unleashed on them.

They all had just stepped off the plane before Ghost was blowing through people like they were paper. Soap would bet his life on the fact that he saw Ghost go through a wall at one point. He wasn’t sticking to the plan. He was moving at inhuman speed. It was impossible to keep up with him.

“Found her. Back building, fourth floor second door on the left.” Soap’s voice rang through the comms.

“Hey, I’m a friend of Ghost’s.” Johnny spoke softly. You seemed to be relatively unharmed. When Johnny pried open the door he caught a glimpse of you diving under a small cot- your hair peaking out from under it.

“I’ve told you I don’t know who that is.” You murmured. He could hear the fear in your voice. Johnny sat down a few feet away from the bed.

“Oh right.” He whispered. “A friend of Simon’s.” Soap corrected. Your head peaked out from the bed. You had a bruise on your cheek- a slap mark?

“Simon?” You repeated slowly. Soap nodded his head. “Johnny?” You asked. Soap smiled.

“So he does talk about me.” His humor was wasted on you, but it did calm you a bit. Suddenly Ghost practically tumbled through the door. You shrieked not realizing who it was and dove back under the bed.

“Sweetheart.” Ghost quickly ripped off his mask, (not wanting to scare you more) laying on his stomach to get a look at you. You shot out from under the bed wrapping every limb you could around him. His hand gripped the back of your head pressing your forehead against his lips. “I’m sorry.” He pressed a few quick kisses against your head, before pulling away, worried eyes scanning all over you.

“I’m fine.” You assured. You had been lucky- well as lucky as one could be in this situation. Your worst wound was a slap to the cheek and a shitty haircut. The worst part was the fear. Fear of what they would do to you. Now that Simon was here you were at ease. His fingers skimmed over your cheek. “Got that because I bit a chunk out of someone’s hand.” You smirked.

“Good Girl.” He growled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “We’ve got to get out of here, yeah? I’m goin’ put my mask back on and you’re going to stay between me and Johnny, understand?” You nodded your head, while Johnny was still reeling from all the affection Ghost had displayed.

Safe to say the mission was a success.

*ring*

“Sweetheart?”

You thank the stars above that John always picked up on the first ring.

“Not to worry you”-

“You need me to come get you?”

“No, can you meet me somewhere? There’s a red car that’s been following me and I don’t want to lead it to our house.” You explained, checking in your rearview mirror. Sure enough, a bright, red sports car was bearing down on you.

“Go to the coffee shop. Don’t park until you see my car in the parking lot. Don’t hang up either.”

“Affirm.” You snickered. John was in absolutely no mood to joke with you. You could hear the sound of his car starting.

“Hope I don’t have to get in a fight tonight. Only wearing my boxers and a shirt.” He wasn’t trying to be funny, but it still made you laugh.

“Could’ve thrown a pair of pants on.” You commented.

“If the difference between you being worm food and you being alright was me wrestling with a pair of jeans I’d never forgive myself.” He grumbled.

“I’ll be fine John. Captain’s coming to save me.” Normally he would melt at that but he was too focused dodging in and out of cars. You could hear a horn from over the phone. “Please be safe.” You sighed. “I’m here.” He said suddenly. Your eyes glanced to your phone. You had only been on the phone for seven minutes and it took at least fifteen to get to the coffee shop from your house.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said as if he could read your mind.

“It’s still following me John.” You whispered. Your fingers dug nervously into the steering wheel.

“Don’t get scared on me now, Sweetheart. How far away are you?”

“Ten minutes?” You weren’t entirely sure. “I can take a shortcut through the neighborhood.”

“No.” He interjected. “Stay on main roads with traffic. Doesn’t matter how long it takes for you to get here, just make sure you stay with people.” You nodded your head. “You hear me?”

“Yes sorry. I nodded my head but you couldn’t see that.”

“I’m standing outside the car. Pull up next to me, don’t get out, I’ll get your door for you.” He had his Captains voice on. You wondered if this was how team briefings went.

“You always get my door for me.” You smiled.

“Damn right I do.” He scoffed. “But it’s important this time. I don’t just want to leave your car in the lot because who knows what type of things they’ll put on it.”

“Like a tracker?”

He hummed in agreement.

“You’re scaring me John.” You gulped.

“Don’t need to be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you, you know that. Just want you to be aware of what’s gonna happen when you park. Just stay in your car, yes?” His voice was calm. Like he had done this a million times before. You nodded your head again. “Did you nod your head again?” You swore you could hear a chuckle.

“Yes, sorry. I understand.” Time seems to slow as you finally pulled into the cafe parking lot. It hadn’t closed yet people still wandering in and out even as the sun has set. You were surprised no one noticed the large man in a pair of light blue boxers and white t-shirt. A t-shirt so thin you could see his chest hair. You did as he told and pulled up right next to him. The red car pulled in right next to you. Your eyes quickly fled to your left to look at John. He had a look on his face you weren’t familiar with.

The sound of the red car door opening caught your attention. A medium sized man stepped out. He just looked greasy. He shut his door and began walking over to your side of the car, seemingly not noticing John.

John met him in the middle, using one hand to grab him by his shirt and slam him against the hood of his own car. You covered your mouth, your eyes going wide. John’s face hovered over his. You couldn’t hear anything that was said, but when John finally let him go the man scrambled to get back into his severely dented car. John stood at the front of the car as he started it up and ripped out of the parking lot.

John tapped at your window signaling for you to unlock your door.

“You alright?” He checked, crouching down to your level. You eyes were still wide and you slowly nodded.

“What did you say?” You mumbled. John took your shaky hands with his, pressing a kiss against your palms.

“That’s a secret.” He smirked. “Didn’t scare you too bad did I?” He asked softly. His brows furrowed and he ran a hand up and down your arm.

“Honestly?”

His face paled. He hadn’t thought about scaring you. He didn’t think he acted too rash. In fact he was holding back.

“Honestly.” He affirmed.

“That was really hot.” You admitted, a hot blush across your face. His face went blank for a moment before a wide smirk crossed his face.

“Then we better get home.” He murmured, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Safe to drive?”

“Yes!” You said a little too enthusiastic.

You’re so sweet! I absolutely loved this request and probably went a little overboard. I was only able to fit Ghost and Price in this but would gladly do this with the rest of the 141 and other cod characters! Hope you liked it and thank you for making my day!