#everyone had to convince both of them to come

[verdantchan]

Always You

Pairing: Best friend! Bangchan x Afab! Reader

Summary: It’s hard to enjoy a party when your best friend who you’ve been in love with for years turns up with his girlfriend…

Warnings: MDNI, dom!chan, sub!reader, possessive!chan, unprotected sex (don’t be like them) dirty talk, cum eating, multiple orgasms (f!rec) fingering (f!rec) mentions of mastubation, spitting (chan spits on it yk..) tummy bulge, creampie

Wc: 2.7k

a/n: did I write and edit it this in one sitting? yes I did,,, is this also my return to writing fics after 5 years bc I’m so attracted to chan idk what to do?? Also yes 🤪

‘‘Lixieee watch my drink, I nearly dropped it’’ You roll your eyes and smile at Felix as he practically jumps on you. His parties were always rowdy, especially when Jisung wormed his way into the planning. Colourful lights strewn around every pillar and doorway, countless bottles and cheesy red cups littering the granite countertops in the dorm kitchen, the air thick with smoke and the sickly sweet scent of liquor.

Part of you loved how committed the boys were to throwing the most stereotypical frat parties, the perfect way to unwind from the stress of uni life. You scan the room for that all too familiar face but find no sign of him, your shoulders dropping slightly, the disappointment in your chest too strong to ignore.

You and Chan had been best friends since you were 12, your parents pushing you together as an unlikely duo. You'd immediately become inseparable,spending every second with each other. People had always questioned your relationship, everyone thought you must be dating if you were so close, but you and Chan were just friends, at least that's what you convinced yourself it had to be.

You first started having feelings for Chan at 18, you were university freshmen starting the next big chapter of your lives together and you couldn't get him out of your head. His deep brown eyes that sparkled when he spoke about the things he loved, his soft curly black hair that you loved ruffling to annoy him and his dimples that became impossibly deep when he smiled. Being around him was both torture and comfort. Three years later and you were still completely in love with someone who views you as his best friend, nothing more. In other words, you're utterly fucked.

‘’Lix, have you seen Chan tonight? I thought he was coming’’  Felix still clinging to you in his tipsy state. His messy blonde hair slightly covering his eyes and freckle-dotted cheeks, a pink blush dusting his skin thanks to the many drinks he’d already knocked back.

‘’Nah not yet, he said he's coming later after his date’’ he slurs his words a little, all giggly and happy, not knowing the ache his words cause you. You hum in response, suddenly feeling less sociable than a few minutes ago.

‘’Ahhhhh speak of the devil’’ Felix laughs and nods toward the doorway, Chan's broad shoulders making it look tiny. His hand interlocked with hers, observing the room and briefly locking eyes with you before looking away.

Chan had been dating Euna for a few months, but it never got easier seeing them together. 

They'd met in one of your classes, Euna was sweet, pretty  and very popular with both the students and teachers. It hadn’t taken Chan too long to fall for her and spend less and less time with you. He swore nothing had changed between you two but you knew better. It wasn't long after they started dating that Chan began cancelling your plans because ‘Euna planned something’ or he ‘just couldn't make it that day’ You wanted to believe that it would all go back to the way it was soon enough but that day never came, Chan drifting further as time passed. 

You missed his smile, the way he would make you laugh, the way he would bring you your favourite food when you were tired or upset. You thought that maybe one day you would be together, that Chan would see you as more than just his best friend. Sometimes it felt like more between you two. 

He and Euna weave their way through the crowd, her trailing slightly behind, Chan looking back at her every so often with a smile, the sight of them making you nauseous though you wish it didn't. Chan lets go of her to pull Felix into a hug, Euna eyeing you awkwardly as the two of them catch up. Euna had never been rude to you, never made a snarky comment about you being friends with Chan, but she never really said much around you if you were honest. 

‘’Your dress is super pretty’’ you squeak out attempting to break the silence between you two, She offers up a small thank you and a tight smile and turns to Chan as he pulls her into his side, his attention now on the two of you instead of the tipsy blonde Aussie

 ‘’Hey y/n’’ Chan smiles as he lets go of Euna and pulls you into a quick side hug, letting go as quickly as he’d pulled you in, his soft musky scent filling your senses. The four of you make small talk, Chan's eyes catching your own as Felix rambles to Euna about his current pc build. The air starts to feel suffocating, his glances making you feel trapped. You quickly make an excuse to leave, Chan's smile faltering as you excuse yourself from their conversation and disappear into the crowd of bodies. 

It was impossible to think while Chan was standing there, his arms wrapped around Euna unapologetically. The jealousy burning more than the straight tequila sloshing around in your cup, you start to sway to the music begging yourself to forget about him and enjoy your night. You feel a pair of eyes follow your silhouette but you continue to drink and dance, the alcohol making its way through your system and drowning out every thought.

 You feel a figure behind you grabbing your hips and swaying with you, turning your head to see the blurred outline of Hyunjin, his hair in his eyes, a pair of red sunglasses perched on his nose. You let yourself melt into him, you'd always found him attractive anyway. You and Hyunjin move together perfectly, his smooth movements guiding your own as he whispers the lyrics to the song in your ear, his plump lips catching your skin slightly. You finally move your eyes to Chan still feeling someone watching you, secretly wishing it was him. You’re met with a sharp glare, his eyes never leaving you and Hyunjin, his jaw locked in annoyance, you roll your eyes at him and turn around to face Hyunjin winding your arms around his slender neck. 

You turn back to glance at Chan to find him charging your way, ripping you from your dance partner's embrace and towards the stairwell. 

‘’Chan what the fuck are you doing?’’ you yell, trying to wriggle your wrist from his strong grip as he pulls you upstairs and into one of the empty bedrooms.

‘’What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are YOU doing y/n? Grinding all over Hyunjin like that’’

‘’We are not doing this right now, why does it have anything to do with you, Chan? Why do you even care?’’ venom coating your words, attempting to open the door and leave but being stopped short when he stands in the way, eyes burning into yours. Chan had never been like this with you, what had gotten into him?

‘’What? Are you suddenly into Hyunjin?? We both know he's not right for you y/n’’  his eyebrows knitted in annoyance.

‘’And how would you know what's best for me Chan? We hardly talk anymore!’’ you run your fingers through your hair, easing the tension building up behind your eyes. 

‘’Of course we still talk, you know i've been busy’’ he fires back, disregarding how much space really had built up between the two of you. 

’Give it up Chan and go back to Euna, what I do with Hyunjin has fuck all to do with you’’ you can't deal with the confusion, why is he acting like he's jealous of you and Hyunjin? Why does it matter to him? 

‘’’I’m your best friend y/n of course it has something to do with me, he's not right for you’’ 

‘’Oh my god get your head out of your ass chan, just like you said, you're my best friend not my boyfriend. You can date but I can't? I'm not gonna wait on you to notice me for the rest of my life’’ You turn your face away from him, your confidence and fire slipping as Chan studies you intensely, the room silent apart from your breathing. 

‘’My god you’re an idiot’’ Chan mumbles before grabbing your chin and smashing his lips onto yours, you melt into the kiss at first before snapping out of it and pushing him away

Chan what are you doing?’’ You feel dizzy as you maintain your balance, your hands still pressed against his toned chest. your lungs heaving in time with the thud of the music coming from below. 

‘’You really have no idea, do you? I’m fucking in love with you y/n, why do you think I even started dating Euna in the first place, I wanted to get over you, why else would I jump into a relationship with a girl I hardly knew??’’ The annoyance in his voice evident as he goes on, he runs his hand through his hair repeatedly,  messy waves falling in his face. 

You stare up at him stunned, your lips parted in surprise, he pulls you back in, his lips covering yours as he presses you into him with fervour. He deepens the kiss and walks you backwards, his hands pressing into your hips, his hold nothing like hyunjins. He pulls away his eyes searching yours for something, anything. 

“Tell me to stop, if you don't want this I’ll walk away” his voice is breathy and pained, evident that the last thing he wanted was for you to say now.

You've waited too long for this, for him to need you, touch you. You know it's wrong, his girlfriend just a floor below but you’ve wanted and waited too much to stop and walk away, you can deal with your moral shortcomings tomorrow. 

‘’Please, Chan’’ you whisper, desperate for him to touch you again, clenching your thighs together as heat pools in your lower stomach, your insides on fire for him. He watches how desperate you are for him, your answer clear.

‘’Fuck you’re perfect’’ you look at him pleadingly and he can't hold back anymore, he’d thought about you like this too many times to count, in dreams and when awake. When he can't sleep and he fucks his fist wishing it was you, how pretty your moans would sound as he rocked into you, how tight you'd be around him, how his cum would leak out of your fluttering hole. He was too far gone, a man possessed. 

You gasp as he pushes you back on the bed, his weight pressing you into the mattress perfectly, he licks and nips at your jaw, his hand finding your soaked underwear under your skirt, circling your puffy clit through the slick fabric. 

“You’re so wet for me baby, bet Hyunjin could never have this effect on you. Gonna fuck you so good you'll forget he exists’’ his words making you tingle, his fingers exactly where you need them.

‘’Only want you’’ Your voice comes out breathy and fucked out even though he’s barely touched you and it sends a rush of blood to Chan's already rock-solid cock, straining against the tight fabric of his black jeans.

He sinks two fingers into your tight pussy and you scream in pleasure and pain at the intrusion, his fingers so much thicker and longer than yours, the stretch taking your breath away 

‘’Yeah be a good girl and take my fingers in that tight little cunt, I know you can’’ The way he whispers as your pussy stretches around his fingers and wet squelches echo through the room has you throwing your head back, Chans other hand finding your tits as he stretches you out for him. You shake as he moves his fingers in and out of you, the stretch now dissolved into intense pleasure. He can tell you're close, your eyes closed in pleasure as you sigh out his name.

‘’cum for me pretty, cum around my fingers’’ You moan his name over and over as he rubs your soaking clit and plunges his fingers into your sopping hole,  your back arching in pleasure as he works you through your high. Shouting his name as you cum on his fingers. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean. The sight alone already making you needy for more 

‘’Need you so bad baby, need to feel you milk my cock’’ he breathes out as he undoes his belt, desperate to be inside of you. You spread your sticky thighs, your glistening pussy on full display for him. His cock springs free from its confines, his pink tip leaking down onto the rest of his thick veiny length. It was no surprise he had the prettiest cock you'd ever seen. He gives it a few pumps, slapping your clit with his bulbous tip, and you moan in pleasure at the sting. 

‘’Take it, baby. Gonna stretch you out so good, gonna make you mine’’ his voice shaky as he presses into you, your pussy spasming around his hard length splitting you open, he slowly bottoms out with a moan stilling inside you. His cock making your stomach bulge with his size 

‘’Fuckfuckfuckkkk you're still so tight, such a perfect pussy’’ his words coming out more like a mantra, the feeling of you around him making him pussydrunk. He fucks in and out of you grabbing your thighs, spreading you wider for him, watching where you’re joined as he takes you. 

 ‘’talk to me baby girl, tell me how I make you feel’’ 

‘’Love it when you fuck me Channie, love your cock so much’’ your voice strained and whiny, writhing against the sheets as he sets a rough pace. He spits on your pussy, the liquid dripping down to where you meet, the sight only aiding his pleasure. 

‘’Bet you thought about this huh? Thought about how good it would feel when I ruin you, hmm baby? Bet you’d touch this little clit thinking about how good I would fuck you?’’ His thrusts become sloppy as he nears his orgasm, his fingers coming to circle your clit. Your moans getting louder as you get close for the second time.

‘’Cum with me baby, wanna cum in this pussy, fill you up with my cum’’ his thrusts getting more erratic and desperate as you orgasm together. You scream his name, your nails digging into his toned back muscles. Chan stills as he spurts his hot release into you, his cum painting your insides a milky white. He collapses onto you, his muscled chest pressed against your fucked out form, both of you breathing heavily. 

‘’Fuck you're mine, just mine’’ he whispers, his cock still inside you, both your release leaking out around his still hard dick.. 

‘’Yeah just yours, Channie’’ you breathe out dreamily, still coming down from your high  

You both lay like that for a while, Chan's face tucked into your neck, leaving gentle kisses, his cock stiffening again inside of you, the party coming to an end downstairs. Things had happened so fast you hadn't realised Chan brought you to his own room, the purple lights giving his skin a lilac hue. 

‘’Chan. What happens now?” You hesitate not wanting to ruin the moment, praying you didn't just fuck everything up with him with a simple question.

He sighs into your skin snuggling closer ‘’I meant it when I said you're mine y/n, Euna knows she and I are done, she knew I was in love with you. I want this, I want you’’ his voice soft and sleepy. 

Your heart nearly explodes, ‘’I love you too Chan, I want you too’’ you kiss him passionately, his tongue fighting yours for dominance, smiling into the kiss as he begins moving inside you again. It feels like a dream and you can't believe he's in love with you too, that he wants you like you want him. Now you have him you'll never let him go, you have always been his, even if he didn't know it. 

‘’It's always been you y/n’’

-ty for reading!! Alr working on more hehe

[freeluigihesbae]

𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 (𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖) - 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟏

(5,534 words)

summary:

You and Luigi are coworkers for TrueCar, but you've never met in person. You've been flirting around on Slack and exchanging messages as of recent, which seems to become an invitation for him to entire your life. And body.

He accepts and soon, you do too.

𝗍𝗐: 18+ !! 𝗀𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒, 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖽𝗈𝗆!𝗅𝗎𝗂𝗀𝗂, 𝗌𝗎𝖻!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋/𝗌𝗎𝖻!𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖽𝗎𝖻𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝖿 𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗍, 𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁

~

TrueCar was the best thing that happened to you. You'd moved from the east to the west coast after attending both your undergrad and graduate years of schooling at Stanford and finally decided that California was the place for you. The weather was fine other than the earthquakes, wildfires, and other disasters hitting the state but you simply ignored them all. As a Computer Science major, jobs were becoming harder rather than easier to find. Your degree was no longer a scarcity but then...

then TrueCar happened. The position was hybrid - both work in-person and virtual - which would come to show how they were far ahead of their time and unknowingly prepared for the pandemic that was going to erupt in a year's time. The main form of communication was Slack, which really was a professionally themed copycat of Discord, but no mind. Everything you did and said was posted and discussed in the several channels that constantly pinged your phone as the app became your new source of corporate social media. You managed to make friends in your new team, having video-calls and occasional meet-ups at nearby bars when time-permitted. In-person was fine but working from home was really the best thing you could ask for.

A few months pass and you see the news about the pandemic. The president is waving his hands in a downward motion, saying everything will be fine, but the coming weeks seem to disprove it. The case numbers are rising and your company decides to go fully virtual, whether this becomes a serious issue or not.

Thank god because you could definitely need it. At the same time, it seems like the company was undergoing re-arrangement which meant everyone had to switch around with team members and projects that they were working on. It seemed cruel, in a way, that they were trying to compensate for the comfort they gave by dipping employees into new arenas on short notice.

But little did you know it would be the best thing that could ever happen to you.

❧

Today is the biggest meeting of the company because you just got approached by one of the biggest car retailers in the world and they want to implement a new program to make vehicles more affordable. They'd be giving away thousands of cars to be exclusively sold on Truecar's website, and you were in charge of convincing them why Truecar was the best option for it.

"Ladies and gentleman, thank you for joining us today. On behalf of TrueCar, we are incredibly honored to have your time and interest in pursuing the deal you have proposed to us. It is my understanding that our consistent increase in sales is what convinced you to approach us, is that correct?" You ask with a brightness in your voice, desperate to get this deal under your belt.

"Absolutely. We were, are, and continue to be pleased with how well your company advertises the use of second-hand and lower priced cars in order to increase the market and frankly, decrease the stigma around it. Cars are cars and as a car company, we are in the business to sell." A man's voice responds in confidence and an undertone of I'm impressed to go alone with it. It makes you smile as your bright teeth are on display for all of the stakeholders, company employees, and members of the interested party to see.

"That's wonderful. The increase in sales that you are seeing are impressive, but I believe it's our methods which are better than the results. The way we have approached sales includes elements of morality and passion. We want to give our customers the best cars for the best price, but we never forget the need to make money. We have and continue to strike a delicate balance which has benefitted our company." You pause, allowing pride to swell in your chest as you click to the next slide, which has a bunch of graphics you spent hours understanding with the help of the responsible parties who made them.

"These graphics are based heavily on the cost-benefit principle. To give a little more background, we use microeconomics to understand our customer because the fundamental exchange or our country's currency starts and continues in the hands of the people. How do we approach the company from a consumer perspective? We did several surveys and found..." You continue with your speech, going through each and every graphic while answering questions that pop-up every now and then, until you get to one specific graphic.

Luigi Mangione's.

He was one of the brightest employees at TrueCar and had a stellar reputation amongst everyone, but strangely enough, you never got the time to know him like everyone else did. But, since re-organization happened, this project was practically catapulted into your face. You found out it was being done in several parts through terrible communication and had to message nearly every single employee (200 private conversation would make a case for this statement, even if it isn't true) and one of them was Luigi Mangione. He responded in haste and detail which was exactly what you needed during such a hectic time. He had volunteered several hours of his time over the past three weeks, hopping onto Slack calls and Zoom meetings whenever you requested them. You can't find a single time when he said no which made you wonder if he was even doing his work.

Of course he was! That's why he was given his project too.

Let's not forget, you are totally into him. That was the worst part because you knew he must've had so many other girls pining after him, probably shooting him meetings and asking questions like dumb blondes would and trying to waste his time. You can't help but indulge in his features and his face every night, wondering what it would be like if...

Back to business.

You land on his graphic which was the most complex and detailed, but highlighted the best of the best points about the company which you knew would make the executives before you swoon. It was a fun experiment and session where you could prove to him that you totally got it.

"This is one of the most important points that we have here. We have a table showing you all a hypothetical scenario in which, it would seem like Option A is the best answer for our first question. But in our second questions, Option B seems more suitable. What you are seeing here is the framing effect, which several if not all companies use to dupe and cheat money out of consumers. We take that out. We cut through the bushes and give customers details that they can read with simplicity in order to make the best decision because buying a car is one of the most expensive purchases someone can make. When we treat our consumers with the respect they deserve, they'll give us the business back. They'll invest in not just the website or the cars, but in us." You speak in smooth, complex sentences which unravel simplicity with skill. You're praying that Luigi is watching, perhaps smiling and impressed, because your eyes are forced to stay trained on the screen in front of you and analyze the graphic like you haven't done so already. You add a few more details before ending and opening up the room to questions.

A few hands go up and you answer them like 1+1 was being thrown at you a hundred times. Your answers are filled with expertise and you make the best impression, getting well wishes and successfully landing a deal which is going to take your company to new heights.

The meeting ends and you let out a sigh of relief before getting flooded with congratulatory messages and hundreds of mentions in the, well, hundreds of channel that you are apart of. Everyone is cheering you on and it makes you smile, but you're really waiting for one specific message.

And it finally comes.

Luigi Mangione: Hey that was a grt presentation. You aced my graphic I'm so impressed.

The message nearly sends you over the edge as you squeal embarrassingly loud, trying to contain your excitement and surprise? Because wow, even you didn't know you were this into him.

You: omgggg thxxx ur so sweet 💘

You add the emoji for your own satisfaction, hoping cupid gets the message across to the man you're keening over right now.

Luigi Mangione: Ugh so cute. Slack call? Do you have a few?

You heart jumps. Did he just call you cute and THEN propose a call? You're rushing to the mirror to do a few fix-ups but thanks to your preparation for the meeting that just happened, you were looking smoking hot to talk business with Luigi.

And maybe, something more.

You don't answer and instead, press the video call icon at the top right, waiting for him to pick up. You turn your camera on while graciously using the time he takes to pick up to stare at his profile picture. His thick eyebrows and sharp nose draw you in like you'd seen him for the first time. His smile was disgustingly charming and-

He picks up. His face pops up on the screen as he gives a wave.

"Hey there." He does his infamous eyebrow raise before laughing out loud and you giggle back.

"Stop, oh my god. I couldn't have done nearly as well if you and so many others hadn't spent hours explaining this to me. The credit goes to you guys." You say, but your eyes and glued to the side of the screen where he's sitting back in his chair, upper torso in display as he is in a short sleeved compression t-shirt. Talk about details and noticing them at the wrong time.

"You talked to others?" Luigi folds his hands and you think you're going to have an orgasm right there. Fuck, the veins are popping up softly under his skin and you're thinking to yourself one hell of a reward would having his biceps around your neck. He seems to catch you staring.

"Hey pretty. Heard me?" Luigi smirks and you snap out of your trance before staring right into your camera.

"Y-Yeah I had to talk to like, 20 other people. You know, like Josh, Andrew, Ashley, and-" You stop, feeling yourself get stressed just having to think about the gruesome three weeks where you had to sit and listen to everyone explain while taking notes furiously. Your fingers would often hurt after these session, which wouldn't be helped by your everyday ministrations having orgasms, screaming Luigi's name and having terribly dirty fantasies that you wish he could fulfill.

Dreams.

"I wouldn't think the explained things as well as I did, did they?" There's a streak of something in his eyes, which darken when he asks his question. Is it jealousy or pride? You're trying to figure it out but he quickly replaces it with a smile.

"No Luigi. They didn't. They didn't at all." You answer back before giving him a wink, feeling bold at what you just saw in his eyes. He finds himself surprised, as his hands slowly rub his triceps and god...

He knows exactly what he's doing. Your eyes are following their movement, taking note of his long fingers which you just wished were inside of your right now.

"Oh I know." Luigi says and your eyebrows furrow.

"What do you mean?" You ask, intrigued by his statement. His eyes go wide before you chuckles out.

"Can't a man be confident in his abilities m'lady?" He asks, a seductive voice intertwined with his question. You gulp before giving him a smile.

"Yes can do my knight in shining armor." You answer cheekily and this time, he winks at you.

"I'm getting pinged by my team. Talk to you later after your pilates at 6." He states this with amusement in his voice but you feel your heart drop.

Because you do have pilates at 6.

"W-Wait how do you know that?" You ask, unable to stop the stutter that makes it's way past your lips. Your smile is at half-mast now, unable to decipher whether this man was just great at guessing or he really knew your schedule.

"Women are predictable. I'd assume you are too?" Luigi smirks before you get a chance to answer. "Does that work?" He asks, tapping his fingers across his abdomen expecting an answer. You let your eyes linger there for a second too long before giving a soft yes and that does it for him.

He puts the phone down and you're left with thinking about how time can go faster, simply waiting for him to call you back.

❧

Pilates couldn't get done any faster, as you had your weekly catch up session with your friend, Bea. She knew everything about Luigi and she was a trusted companion since her type was different.

Entirely different.

It was actually women.

"Oh my god Bea you wouldn't believe it. He told me I was fucking cute after the meeting and somehow, he knew I had pilates at 6." You're walking out of the glass doors, as Bea sighs behind you.

"You know this guy could show up at your apartment unannounced and you'd let him fuck you." Bea snorts and you giggle, letting the thought sear through your core.

"You know I think I would. I wouldn't complain at all." You emphasize the all at the end of your sentence because you have to admit, you were a less innocent than your face cared to show. You liked the idea of him thinking about you when you weren't looking and although it might've been scary, you wouldn't mind if he fucked you senseless.

You actually needed it really badly.

Bea can see how gone you are in your thoughts about him, so she gives a shake and a quick bye before you return it, walking over to your car. You start the engine, steeling yourself and clearing your thoughts so you can drive home safely and call him as soon as possible.

Finally, your car gets into the driveway and the exhaustion from your pilates session scurries away into the dark corners of the world (your car?) and you hurry inside, slamming your door shut and locking it before throwing your shoes off and making your way up the stairs.

You're about to call Luigi on Slack, maybe send a message asking for his number before an unknown number sends you a message.

Unknown: Hey there.

Something about it feel strangely familiar, like how Luigi had addressed you in your earlier Slack call. Normally, you never respond to unknown messages but this one...

this one really drew you in, making something of an obligatory pull bloom inside of you. You slowly type a hey, who's this? back and hit send. To your surprise, the response comes quicker than you'd imagined.

Unknown: Luigi

You swallow hard, pulse beating against your sensitive spot on your throat a little faster. You didn't actually think it would be Luigi, but hey, all is fine. Maybe a coworker gave your number, you think, but it still doesn't sit right because in the time you've been with the company, you only ever gave them your second work number... not your personal.

You: Funny. How'd you get this number?

Luigi: A coworker.

So far, you buy it. You ignore the gut feeling and suppose that it must've slipped and spread across your coworkers at some point since the most recent project had several overlaps with other team members you worked with in the past.

You: So..

Luigi: So...? Do you want to keep typing or can I hear that pretty voice of yours?

He did not.

You: We can call how about you call me this time? I was nice enough to ring you this morning. You end the message, hitting send and smirking.

Luigi: We don't have to call if you don't want to.

Ugh, mean. Was it really that hard to press the call symbol? You wanted to hear his voice though, so you give in and ring him yet again.

The line is going through and you put your stuff down, opening your fridge to heat up some leftovers from earlier last night. You rummage through your stuff, trying to look for that orange-lidded box but it's nowhere to be found. The line is still ringing, so you put the phone down and walk around your kitchen, wondering if you were stupid enough to leave it outside. Nowhere. You check the trash, empty. You're scratching your head at this point and you finally walk over to the sink and to your horror, it was licked clean with remanants of the food on the side with the fork still inside. Luigi's voice scares you at the same time and you jump.

"Hey there." He says, in the same tone he had this morning. You can hear his smile but your breathing is too heavy as your back is pressed against the cool fridge. You swallow the saliva before stepping forward and picking up the phone on her island.

"Jesus, you scared me Luigi." You say, half-focused on him while you're trying to figure out why your leftover tupperware is in the sink. It's making you feel unsettled.

"I don't think I'm a scary person. Is everything alright?" His voice is laced with concern now and you feel yourself calming down, explaining the situation.

"Y-Yeah I'm fine I'm just confused because my leftovers are in the sink and I'm starting to think I sleep eat now." You answer him with amusement and he gives a deep, heart laugh back. It sounds hot, you note, thinking about what it would be like if his voice was in your ear right now. You still can't help but turn around and glance at the box.

"Must be a good cook. I know I'm a sucker for some good Thai food." He breathes it out with the same amusement in your tone and this time, you feel a shiver down your back. Your leftovers were a pad see eu takeout from your favorite Thai restaurant and his answer seemed a little too close for comfort.

"Are you?" You ask, darting your eyes around the room because it's not feeling so comfortable in the house anymore.

"Yeah. Wouldn't you say we have a lot in common?" His voice a bit more stern now but he's asking her with innocence you can't tell whether is real or feigned.

"Like what?" You keep your question curt like the last, slowly walking into the living room and checking the sides and corners to make sure no-one is there. No-one is. You sit down on the couch, trying to control your heart rate.

"Like how we both like Thai food. That's a good start." Luigi answers with surety in his voice and the air feels thinner now.

"I never told you that, so how do you know?" You try to maintain your composure but your voice starts to shake.

"Now I do. Thanks for confirming." Luigi has an irritating attitude in the laugh he lets out.

"I wasn't trying to." You answer, rapid fire. Every sound outside starts to make you jump as you're looking over your shoulder.

"Now, why so jumpy? You seem scared." He teases you, mocking the hesitation in your voice. Your skin is shivering and you're 99% sure someone is watching you.

"I'm not scared Luigi. Just making conversation." You're still talking into the phone, but you slowly get up, making your way upstairs. You know you might regret this, but you have to be absolutely sure because Luigi isn't making you feel too good right now and you're trying your level best to ignore the suspicions your gut is feeding you right now.

"Conversations aren't usually this... high-strung. Are you okay?" Luigi responds, shifting his tone from something dangerous back to concern and you know he's fucking with you. You know this man is trying to screw around with you.

"Great. Great Luigi. You still haven't told me how you know I like Thai food." You snap at him, unable to contain the stress your feeling as your head is spinning.

"I wouldn't be so rude if I were you, baby." The name slips from his tongue and you freeze. Something hot blazes across your skin as you realize you like that. You want that. You've been wanting it and finally, you just got it.

It doesn't clash to well with your increasing heart rate because if anything, it makes it shoot higher. You let out a sharp exhale.

"You like that don't you?" You stepped into your study room on the top floor, checking the windows to make sure they're locked and opening the doors, squeezing your eyes shut and praying no-one is hiding there. Clear. But his question makes you nearly whimper and you find yourself nodding before you stop, stepping back out of the room and back into the foyer.

"I don't." But it's a lie and you can feel it. You can feel your conscience eating away at you, begging you to tell the truth.

"Don't fuckin' lie." Luigi growls, spite and another emotion dripping across the phone and that's when you hear a creak downstairs.

Fuck.

"I'm not lying Luigi. I don't know what you're trying to do right now." You raise your voice before checking the bathroom quickly and as you wished, nobody is in there. You finally make your way down the foyer to the very end, feeling your chest tighten as you prepare to step into your bedroom. Your fingers twist around the doorknob and you practically throw it open when you hear another creak downstairs. You shut the door and lock it, running into the closet and climbing into the attic crawlspace.

"I'm just asking questions and you are lying to me." You're terrified now because this isn't the Luigi you are quite used to.

"You're freaking me the fuck out Luigi. That's what's going on." You hear a step on the stairs and throw your hands over your mouth. Someone is in your house and you think you know who.

But you're praying this is all a trick of your mind.

"It's okay to open up, you know. You can trust m-" "Shut the fuck up Luigi." You shout into the phone before cutting the call. The relief washing over you is better than any medicine you've ever taken, you have a newfound confidence as you press your ears against the wall of the crawlspace. You can hear some sounds from outside and birds chirping which is comforting. You wait for ten minutes and when you don't hear anything and your phone, thankfully hasn't rang from Luigi again, you open it up, making your way down into the closet.

You still step into your bedroom with utmost caution, but you can't seem to take it seriously. Your strides become more confident as you open your bedroom door and nearly missing the wave of panic you feel when you see the foyer.

No-one.

You laugh, thinking Luigi was just acting like a creep but you walking to the bathroom, fixing your hair and letting your ponytail loose. Your mind keeps reeling back to the conversation with him, replaying the way he called you baby and it was just too fucking good.

Too bad he didn't call again. You almost missed his voice but the panic was worse, so mostly, you were glad. You walk back into your bedroom, sliding your sweatpants off and realizing your clothes are everywhere, running around in boxer shorts. You manage to grab a fresh pair of pajama pants which you throw onto the bed before taking your shirt off and letting it slip to the floor. You shiver a bit, just left in your bra. Another top catches your eye and you slip it on, appreciating the cropped fleece.

But something raises a red flag.

Earlier, when you entered the room, it was warm. Quite warm, actually, because you had the heater on the entire day to combat the winter weather. It took all but five minutes for that to disappear? You're staring at the window and realize.

The window was open.

Open.

The window was open.

And as if it couldn't get worse, the phone rings and you nearly trip over the clothes on the floor.

It was Luigi.

Your hands are shaking as you let a cry out, hugging yourself. You place the phone up to your ear before sobbing out a Luigi? quietly.

"Yes baby?" His voice is right next to you, behind you in the slightest and you let out a primal scream which is quickly muffled by a strong, unrelenting hand that gets pressed into your mouth, fingers threatening to choke you. You writhe and squirm against the hand but quickly, another arm grabs your neck and turns it to the side.

It's Luigi alright.

"Missed me baby?" His grips your throat tighter and you can't stop the fear driving your arousal past a previous breaking point, feeling heat spread across your body and absolutely relishing the light-headedness his hands were giving

The hand leaves your throat before a slap lands on the side of your thigh. You bend forward, ass brushing against his crotch before placing your hand on the now blooming red print.

"Fuckin' answer me slut." Luigi's voice is dripping with desire, demanding an answer of you. You slowly remove your hand from your thigh, letting it hang in the air as it shakes impossibly hard.

"Y-Yes." You mewl it out and you can hear his breath hitch before his arm is circling around your waist, pushing your head back into place as you face forward. That hand starts to feel around, teasing over your breasts and down your navel. You whimper, letting tears rush out as his cold fingers are playing cruel games with your skin. He flips, suddenly, grabbing a breast and you feel your knees nearly buckle.

"N-No." You attempt to stop him weakly but he just laughs, gripping harder. He does let go after a few choice squeezes, pushing you onto the bed and flipping you around as you face him and you see him in all his glory. His eyebrows are knitted together as you watching eyes swim with desire. His neck is strained, chest heaving as he is trying to restrain every filthy desire he's waiting to hurt and pleasure you with. His arms are flexed, veins pulsing as he waits and waits.

His eyebrows furrow deeper before his lips curve into a nasty, sly smirk.

"No? No? You fucking slut." He grips your throat and this time, takes the liberty of letting it cover the entire diameter. Your eyes go wide as you pull on his single arm, feeling your breathing get harder and harder.

"I don't know why you're lying to me. I've heard you fucking this pretty cunt with these tiny fingers, moaning my name every single night. I've watching this pretty ass," he stop to turns your lower body around and give your ass a nice slap, letting it echo in the room and watching as the pleasure makes you choke out a sound, something akin to a gurgle. He smiles, letting go to let your gasp and take air in before his hands are on your throat again. You feel yourself trying to get out of his grasp, trying to process how in the world he could know you were masturbating to him and why his hands felt so good around your neck. The deprivation was simply delicious and you wanted more.

"I've watched you ass bend over and split into two at pilates. Been watching you everyday for the past few weeks. Been watching you show my ass to everybody else in that class. I've watched men walking by ogle and just the thought of them staring at your makes me wanna-" Luigi groans, palming himself through his sweatpants. His grip on your throat as lightened up, but you dare not move.

"Makes you w-wanna what?" You gulp, wondering what he would say and he stares down at you, cooing at your glossy eyes that stare at him in fear and wonder and an impossible amount of

submission?

"So glad you asked. Makes me wanna hurt you first. Makes me wanna fuck you with my fingers and slap your ass so hard you cry my name out." Luigi fingers trail down to your shorts, sliding in between your legs as your moan, slowly rolling your hips against his fingers. The touch feel electric, sending waves into your core and you can't stop. Your eyes close until you realize his fingers aren't there anymore. You cover your face with your hands, suddenly overwhelmed with the reality of the moment.

But he has other plans.

He grabs both arms, pulling them down with one hand before slapping you across the face with another. You let out a sob, the pain stinging but still making you pulse between your legs. You can tell he knows by the small sighs he lets out, pressing his bulge against it.

"Can feel you pulsing. You little painslut. That's what you are, isn't it baby?" He starts grinding down on you faster and you can't help but let the sensations get to you, struggling to let free of his grasp because you desperately need to thread and grab his hair in yours fingers, but instead he presses down into your stomach, watching you wince at the discomfort.

"If you don't talk I'll make you bitch." God the insults are just perfect, turning on parts of your brain you didn't know exist. You keep silent, indirectly telling him to keep going. His eyes widen before he tears the top off, making you scream.

"What happened to the cunt that was aching for me, hm? What happened to that pretty voice moaned my name when work was over? Where's that pretty body that was arching off the bed every time you came huh?" Luigi slaps your breast and you moan, crying his name out in a harsh exhale which he bends down and drinks up, devouring your mouth with his tongue. You feverishly reciprocate, desperate for his validation and constant touch on you. "Please."  You let out a quiet, slutty noise that makes him groan. His fingers thread into your hair which you starts pulling without mercy, adding to the pain by biting into your neck and you think he might tear it off.

"H-Hurts Luigi. It hurts." You are feeling more pain than pleasure, attempting to let him know how you feel but a part of you knows that he won't listen he won't care. He'll do whatever he wants and in the case he does slow down, it'll all be for his benefit.

"You're gonna take it anyways." He flips you around, forcing your body onto all fours and the sensations of the moment make you arch your back, sticking your ass up in the air which he adds to, pushing your neck sideways and down into the bed. You yelp as you feel another hand smoothing over the entirety of your back, going lower and lower until your stomach is nearly touching the bed and your ass is directly on his crotch. "You haven't answered any of my questions and if you don't," you here something click and shake, which you find in the corner of your eye.

A gun.

"I promise I'll make it hurt baby you want me to hurt you?" He's bent his body now, entirely draping himself over your backside and whispering into your ear, juxtaposing the absolute threat with a sweet, honey-glazed voice. You let out a slow breathing before moaning through your words.

"Don't hurt me Lu." You say this, breathing in slowly as you savor every shift in his position, taking in a slightly sharper breath when his hands start roaming around atop your ass. The lack of pressure makes you un-arch your back, taking solace in having space but a hand is back on top, pressing down.

"Move and I'll make you cry." He takes the gun, pressing the cool metal in the space between your legs, feeling yourself impossibly wet as his slow, circling motion imitate his fingers that were on you earlier. "W-What were you asking-" You wanted to be the perfect little girl and answer his questions which have flown out of your mind, but he's pulled the gusset of your underwear to the side and shoved the tip of his gun inside your cunt, watching the juices flow right down and onto the trigger.

"Oh I'll take my sweet time and make sure I get all of my answers." He keens with a soft, soothing the voice that betrays his next motion as he shoves the entire length in, forcing your to clench and sob at the pain.

He wasn't playing games. He was playing you.

part 2

[upon-sunflower-trails]

it cries a soft weep like mine

nam-gyu x reader | oneshot | 1965 words

songfic, i guess? based on eric by mitski. if i'm being honest, this fic was really cathartic for me to write.

warnings: nsfw. pretty fucking toxic relationship, nothing physically or sexually abusive, but it's really toxic. fairly graphic depictions of sex. emotional abuse. manipulation. dacryphilia.

You like control, well, I do too

Take off my clothes and watch me move

You can come closer, I'll let you hurt me

How you choose

It had been a little over six months since you decided to pursue a relationship with Nam-gyu. You'd met him through a mutual friend, where the attraction was almost instantaneous.

That's all it seemed to be. Purely physical attraction. You knew you wanted more, to have a relationship that was full of genuine intimacy. You wanted the sort of love that led to late night conversations in bed, with your hands threaded in his hair as you both looked up at the ceiling, gentle smiles on your faces.

Nam-gyu was not that kind of lover. It was all about how far he could take things without you pushing back. He used you for sex and not much else— it's not like he was ever home. You couldn't tell if you preferred the crippling solitude that settled in your gut when he was out doing god-knows-what during the day, or if you wanted to cling to him despite the ways he made it clear you were of no importance to him.

In the beginning, you pushed back. You two would constantly argue over the smallest of things. He wanted to be his own person, even if it meant disrespecting his relationship with you. You still had enough strength to stand your ground, to yell back as he slammed his fist against the counter. 

You still remembered the first time you had come home to him in bed with someone else, as they scurried out of the door as Nam-gyu laid still in bed with a smirk on his face, disregarding the angry tears streaming down your face as you shouted at him like a rabid dog barking at its owner. 

You wanted to leave then, but he convinced you to stay the same way he always did. Pleading with you, pretending he cared in that moment— promising he would change, that he had a moment of weakness. Things had been so difficult for him, he wasn't in the right state of mind. And then he'd have you bare in front of him, knowing he would be able to reel you back in any time.

Help me with the zipper on my skirt, it's stuck

As you kneel, I'll be watching you fix me

This view of you, of the top of your head

Makes me forgive you

After a few months, even your mutual friends could tell things weren't right between you and your boyfriend. You had become more withdrawn and careful with your words. You refused to drink, knowing it would lead to you breaking down and spilling your guts to anyone in proximity to you. 

Nam-gyu paraded you around as if you were an exotic pet on a leash. He would shut you up if you even dared to speak in front of the people who were no longer your friends, but his. He convinced you that their worried glances were instead glares of disgust, that everyone knew how mean you were to him behind closed doors. You believed him; how could you yell at him when he had been trying so hard to get better?

At one get-together, the same person you had caught him sleeping with was there. Even in your wounded state, it festered— festered until you could feel every rational part of you become infected with blind rage. You snapped as he placed an arm on theirs after ignoring you all night, even though to anyone who was watching it was obvious he was simply helping to steady them after they had fallen.

You were made to be the fool. Onlookers saw you as insecure, jealous, crazy. Nam-gyu played the part of the hurt boyfriend who couldn't believe the accusations you were throwing at him. Everyone believed him, because why would they trust you? You had been acting strange and distant for months now.

That night, Nam-gyu hadn't berated you. He simply helped you undress, murmuring that he would make it up to you.

"Don't know why you always make me out to be the bad guy, baby." "I was just tryin' to help them. Didn't you see them fall?" "We already talked about this, why do you keep bringing it up?" "Am I not allowed to have friends now? I'll just stop talking to them, if that's what you want. In fact, I'll stop going out entirely."

He said it all as he helped you out of the shoes that were blistering your feet, unzipping the skirt you had been fiddling with all night. He looked up at you through his lashes, eyes glistening as he did his best to seem hurt by your accusations. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he jutted out his bottom lip, wailing that the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

So you let him back in again. You turned a blind eye yet again to all the trouble he had caused you, because at least he was a good fuck for the night.

But how long, how long can we play this way?

I'm tired, I'm tired of not loving you

My heart, my heart wants to hold you

But I know, I know, I know the rules

Six months in, you knew you held nothing but an odd mix of sorrow and contempt for Nam-gyu. You tried to rationalize it, that this was what love was really supposed to feel like. 

The only physical intimacy he engaged in with you was sex. It was never gentle, or soft, or tender; it was bordering on violent and possessive, despite you not truly belonging to him. And as soon as he had spilt himself into you, he would turn away and not allow you to hold or touch him. He claimed he never saw the point of cuddling or any sort of aftercare.

You knew he heard the sobs that racked your body every night. As you clutched the comforter close to your bare chest, pillow wet as the thick seed between your legs served as a constant reminder of what you were putting yourself through.

Some nights, you would reach out as he was sleeping, desperate to brush the stray hairs from his face. He truly looked peaceful like this, his resting state making you forget how cruel he could be. Every time you outstretched your limbs, craving any sort of loving embrace, you retracted at the last minute. You knew to roll back over and force your eyes shut, praying that perhaps this was all just a bad dream you were going to wake up from. That you were in such a happy relationship in real life, you were forced to have constant nightmares of what a terrible relationship would look like.

And every morning, as harsh sunlight beat in through the blinds on your face, you were reminded that this was your reality. That you would turn over, and Nam-gyu would be gone— not in the way that he had never existed, as the divet in the mattress suggested, but that he left without bidding you farewell as any good lover should.

You knew you weren't in love with him. How could you be? You despised him, deep down, even if you never admitted it to yourself. But you had promised yourself to him at some point down the line, and he hadn't dumped you on the side of the road yet.

So, for now, you stayed.

Blue light, dark room, the white of your teeth

As you smile at my trembling shoulders

But your skin, did you notice your skin?

It cries a soft weep like mine

You always tended to cry during sex with Nam-gyu. Perhaps he had just gotten used to it, or he had twisted in his mind that they were tears of pleasure. Either way, it didn't matter.

You enjoyed the release, yes, you only stayed with him for the pleasure. Well, that was what you told yourself. 

You wept as he thrust into you, because it was the only time the relationship felt real. His presence was overpowering, as the stench of his cologne settled into your nostrils while the cold sensation of his rings against your sides were the only thing keeping your mind tethered to reality.

He would growl into your shoulder as he bit and nipped at you, leaving marks that you never hesitated to cover (since they were a reminder that you were with him). His teeth shone in the low light of your "shared" bedroom, amusement coming out as a hiss as you cried out his name, a mix of pleasure and despair at your current situation.

Insults and degradation would be hurled your way under the guise of him "getting too into the moment." You always tried to ignore when he would moan out someone else's name. It only made you cry harder, and that only made him rougher. You guessed that your sobs spurred him on, that in some twisted sort of way seeing you in such a broken state aided his arousal. You never wanted to think too much into it, lest you begin to bawl even more.

Every once in a while, on extremely rare occasion, he would let a tear slip as well. Maybe it was a sign he was still human, too. That deep down, he felt sorry for what he had put you through. He was always quick to hide it as soon as it happened, and just like that he would go back to the same Nam-gyu he always was.

Those nights, you would always hear sniffling and muffled sobs beside you as you wiped your silent tears away.

I'll sell, I'll sell my whole to you

What's my, what's my, what's my price?

How about, how about just a part of you?

You were too deep in to leave when Nam-gyu finally began investing your money in things as well. He had lost everything already, and now needed your financial aid to pick him up off the ground. You wanted to be the perfect partner to him, to support him in his time of need. You tried to find any positive you could about him as you got deeper and deeper into the relationship, making decisions that would only solidify your inability to leave him.

You had lost everything alongside him, drowning in debt as he made even more irresponsible decisions with your money. You couldn't even stick up for yourself, let alone get out of the situation entirely. You were stuck, practically entrapped with a barbed-wire engagement ring digging into your finger. You laughed at the idea, but realized the metaphor didn't seem so far-fetched.

You weren't sure what it was that you did that finally pushed Nam-gyu over the edge. He abandoned you without a word, one day muttering something about making up his debts and the next day vanishing into thin air. You weren't sure if he'd ever return. Deep down, you knew you didn't want him to. But as it stood, you were crushed. Lost and hopeless without him, simply going through the motions everyday with no solace in pretending he loved you at night while being shoved against the headboard.

In some strange way, you missed him. It wasn't as though he completed you, but you had become so wrapped up in a life not with him, but of him, that you weren't sure how to exist outside of being Nam-gyu's. 

You weren't sure how to survive without the assurance of him being in your life.

'Cause I want, I want, I want, I want

I want, I want, I want, I want, I want.

[rebelliousstories]

Girl’s Night

Relationship: Emily Prentiss x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Drinking and Alcohol

Word Count: 809

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Summary: When Emily invites another girl to the BAU’s girl’s night, no one is expecting this girl.

Consider Donating: Here

“They’re gonna love you. Stop fussing.”

“Em, these are your friends and the ones you work with. I have a reason to be nervous.” This had been the argument for the last thirty minutes from their shared apartment to this new one.

Emily Prentiss had not only spent the last thirty minutes arguing with her girlfriend, but the better part of the day trying to convince her to come along on her annual B.A.U. girl’s night with her friends. This would be the first time that anyone from work would be meeting someone special to her. It was nerve wracking enough on that qualification enough. Not to mention the fact that she was officially coming out; Emily might be a bit more nervous than her girlfriend. But one of them had to be calm.

Holding a bottle of wine in one hand, she turned to her girlfriend. “Listen, honey, I know it seems scary right now. But they’ll love you, okay?”

“Yeah.” She replied, but did not sound convinced. Sensing this, Emily went over and captured her jaw in one hand, while planting her lips onto hers.

It got her girlfriend to calm down long enough to be stable again. Releasing her, Prentiss waited till she got a nod from the woman, before knocking on the door. A bubbly blonde yanked open the door, far too energized for how late in the day it way.

“Emily! And friend, hello. Come on in ladies.” Penelope ushered them in. Looking back at her girlfriend, the dark haired woman smiled and nodded her head towards the apartment.

“Jay-Jie, Em and her friend are here.” Garcia called out into the room. Another blonde came out to find their new guests arriving with some more wine, which got her to smile even bigger.

“Hey, glad to see the party is finally here.” JJ came around to hug Prentiss tightly before setting her sights on the new woman.

“Hi, I’m Jennifer. Everyone calls me JJ. And that bundle of unicorn sparkles is Penelope Garcia. It’s so good to meet you.” Holding out her hand, the new woman provided her name to the rest of the group.

In the meantime, Emily and Penelope were pouring the new bottle of wine to go with the rest of their snack type foods. JJ led her over to the couch, letting her take it easy for her first girl’s night. She, along with her other two friends, brought food over in waves. Popcorn, candy, pretzel bites, chips and dips; you name it, they had it.

When everyone finally planted themselves on the couch, the questions began.

“So, how do you know our fair brunette bombshell?” Garcia asked, in between bites of popcorn.

“Oh, uh…” she trailed off, looking at her girlfriend. “We met at a makeup store. I was working the counter and Emily needed help finding a new lip liner. Her old one was discontinued cause they stopped making it like ten years ago.”

Her tease made the brunette near blush as she hid her face behind her glass of wine. Emily started up just as soon as she recovered, “hey, I want to remind you that I got you to change from a flip phone to a smart one. There was no way I was going to be calling on that ancient piece of tech.”

“Yeah, sure. There was nothing wrong with my flip phone. Anyways, after I helped her find a new lip liner, she passed me her number. And from that day, it was history.” The woman shrugged, taking a sip of her wine.

“I love that she is getting some more lady friends. Honestly, the B.A.U. is a testosterone nightmare sometimes.” JJ commented, not putting too much thought into her words. However, everyone noticed how quiet the other two women got. This caused both blondes to also pause.

“Everything okay?” Jennifer asked, eyes darting between everyone in the room.

“Yeah, um, she’s not just my friend. She’s my girlfriend.” Emily stated, setting down her wine glass. There was a pause as they processed the information.

“I think we need something extra to celebrate our beloved Emil Prentiss finally getting a date! I think I’ve still got some cake in the fridge.” Garcia was gushing over this, while JJ sat there stunned.

“Is everything okay?” The woman piped up, unsure as to how her girlfriend’s colleague was taking it.

“No, yeah. I’m fine. Trust me, nothing to do with you being lesbian, I just… I’m amazed that you’re dating someone.”

“Well, believe it.” Prentiss chuckled.

However, JJ happily leaned over the coffee table towards the other woman, catching her attention. “I can tell you wonderful stories about all the different people that have tried to tame this mare.”

“Okay. You know what, I think we should be going…”

“I have cake!”

[sovamurka]

Thinking about how Ma Meilleure Ennemie can be considered a continuation and an interesting thematic expansion of Enemy.

"No shit, lmao, they both have the word enemy in them".

Like, yes, that's exactly the point.

But there's more to it than meets the eye.

We all know that Enemy in many ways is meant to be from Jinx's perspective (music video supports that) - it's HER internal worries, it's HER exhaustingly sad sarcasm, it's HER wreck of emotions that she can't stop.

The song explains why and how she basically convinced herself that she's a curse and will never be a saint no matter what she does.

She exclaims that everybody wants to be her enemy. For her this word means "the person that everyone hates, the person who everyone abandoned, the person for whom no one prays or hopes".

And then in Ma Meilleure Ennemie Ekko... agrees with her - she IS his enemy. But to him this word has so much more meaning and underlying feelings than just "the person I'm against, the person I hate".

For him enemy is also someone who's always near - if not in body, then in mind. Someone who truly shares history with you and can hurt you in more ways than one.

Who you hate so much because you had too much love in your heart for them.

Hatred is not the opposite of love, it's just love with a minus instead of plus, the true opposite of love is indifference. And Ekko feels anything but indifference towards Jinx, even though he tried so many times to convince himself otherwise.

First verse of the song is basically his admission that she's an essential part of him - no matter what he does, no matter how many times he forces himself to forget, no matter how much he tries to keep his enemy out of his mind.

He knows he should stay away, he knows he should keep his own heart under hundreds of locks to not let anyone break it again. But he can't help it. He still loves her despite everything, including his own self.

That's why he also agrees that she's indeed a curse. The most beautiful one. She haunts his thoughts and he hates himself for finding comfort in it. But it's better to be in a bad company than alone, am I right?

The chorus of Ma Meilleure Ennemie sounds almost like a last resort - a mutual attempt to push each other away.

To make matters worse, the whole "meilleur/pire" (best/worst) dichotomy that is constantly present in the song literally from the beginning, is a simple yet clever play on a famous wedding vow - "Pour le meilleur et pour le pire" (translation: for the best and the worst of it). The more they try to convince each other that they should not be together, the more they intertwine their fates because they repeat this vow again and again.

And then in the second verse of Ma Meilleure Ennemie Jinx finally lets herself say things she was so afraid to say before. Lets her feelings and thoughts be known in the most vulnerable way possible. Not with Enemy's upset angry screaming but with this gentle melodic whisper.

And what does she have to say about her feelings towards the person who she shares so much complicated history with?

That his name cuts her open every time she hears it. And that's why she doesn't say it - it hurts her so much.

Ekko's name literally echoes in her mind. Jinx can't even say for sure whether this pain she feels comes from hatred that formed over the years or from pure sweetness, softness and gentleness that she still keeps in her heart for him.

And then comes Je t’avais dit: “Ne regarde pas en arrière” (translation: I told you not to look back) which is such an obvious Orpheus and Eurydice myth reference when you say it out loud.

Albeit, their situation is an interesting take on this myth.

Let me explain. Orpheus had a chance to bring his wife Eurydice back to the land of the living if he guided her there without looking back or else she would end up in the underworld again. There are several versions of the myth that give different explanations on why Orpheus turns back, but they all agree on one thing - it was done because of love.

However, in Ekko's case it's kind of a reverse situation - Jinx will disappear if he turns away from her.

That's what, in my opinion, Turn Your Back and I'll Disappear song means, actually.

And here, at the end of second verse, Jinx explicitly tells Ekko that he shouldn't look back. He should leave past behind, should leave her behind, let her disappear from his life and from this world altogether or else everything will get infinitely worse.

But of course he doesn't, of course he turns back (time) again and again.

He does it because he loves her, just like Orpheus loves Eurydice.

Despite not having much screen time, timebomb still managed to tell such a wonderful intricately woven story.

I analysed just a small part of Jinx and Ekko's symbolic lyricism. Believe me, there's still so much more to talk about and uncover since this story is told through different forms of art that are all worth your attention.

[brynnsasha191]

(Tldr at the end) Okay here goes.

People really misunderstood Callum in episode two, s7 (that's okay, the writers didn't do a great job of conveying what I'm about to say, no hate to them though) Callum did not betray Ezran

I see a lot of people criticizing Callum for prioritizing Rayla instead of Ez and saying Rayllum is toxic because it got in the way of familial relationships. But that's not what Callum's actions were really about, they weren't about "oh rayla is upset so I'm going to burn down all bridges for her" like a lot of people seem to think. His actions had a lot to do with Rayla but they also had a lot to do with the fact that Callum genuinely believed what Ezran was doing wasn't right.

(btw I'm writing this with Callum's opinions in mind, I'm not just projecting mine on Callum. I believe Runaan did something wrong and deserved punishment for it, and I believe both Rayla and Ez were both right and wrong. I am on everyone's side)

In the beginning of the episode, we see Callum trying to reason with Rayla and defend Ezran by telling her to give him a minute to process what recently happened to him. And he says "he [runaan] did kill it's king" but he never actually said he agreed with Ezran, he was just trying to get Rayla to see Ezran's side.

Ezran and Rayla's fight during the council meeting was understandable upsetting for Callum, his two favorite people were fighting. And when he tried to follow Rayla to get her to come back, Ezran commanded him to do otherwise, as the king, Ezran has a right to do that. But that moment probably felt uncomfortable and belittling and frustrating for Callum, it's the same unhealthy push and pull dynamic that I talked about in my 'why Callum shouldn't be high mage' meta. It made Callum disinterested in the council meeting, and while that's not Ezran's fault, it is the same corner that the broyals keep walking themselves into.

Callum goes outside and sees Rayla crying, that is also understandably distressing for him, but he doesn't blame Ezran at all. He apologizes for his choice in that moment, he says he should've gone after her, not "Ezran shouldn't have done that or said that", if Callum was completely choosing Rayla over Ez, he easily could've deflected the blame to him, but he didn't, he apologized for his own actions which to me shows that Callum isn't the type to blame Ezran unnecessarily.

When Callum goes to Ezran and calls him a jerk face (very uncool thing of him to say to Ezran, Ezran didn't deserve that) Rayla and Callum already finished their conversation where Rayla decided to secretly get Runaan out, there wasn't a point to try to convince Ezran to let Runaan out then. He went to Ezran, not to convince him to free Runaan, but to convince Ez he wasn't doing the right thing. As the scene progresses, Callum's voice gets softer and he starts speaking sensibly and reasonably without ad hominem attacks. He acknowledges Ezran's feelings about Katolis being destroyed but also acknowledges that that particular part of Ezran's pain isn't connected to Runaan. And Ezran has no problem sharing his true feelings with Callum, Callum doesn't dismiss them once. He puts his hand on Ezran's shoulder and validates his feelings, also not to mention he apologizes immediately after calling Ez a jerk face. And when Ezran says "he killed our father" Callum doesn't know how to respond because he isn't completely siding with R&R. He knows Ez has a point.

Rayla and Runaan could have been seriously injured during the fight with Soren and the soldiers. Aanya was going to shoot them, and Ezran was going to let her. It's really weird that this fandom seems to think Callum should've sat by and not stood up for them. Callum absolutely shouldn't have condoned Rayla breaking Runaan out without permission, he should've told her to stop and stay put until he had a chance to talk to Ezran's more. But that's not what happened, what happened was a messy game of tug-o-war between two people who love each other that nearly killed people and almost destroyed relationships. Callum didn't choose Rayla, he chose what he thought was right, and that was not Ezran at the time. People get so mad at him for not standing by Ezran's side but he wanted to, but standing by someone's side doesn't mean sitting back and letting them do something that you believe is wrong.

He gave up his role as High Mage because he knew he couldn't continue to play that role after this, for him and Ezran's sake. He can't be his High Mage but he'll always be his brother.

TLDR: Callum actually did handle this situation maturely. The problem didn't lie with Callum or anyone else. This situation was an ugly and messy one that anyone would have a hard time navigating especially a kid who the people closest to him in the entire world were actively hurting each other. He's willing to do anything for Rayla, but this isn't about choosing Rayla, it's about what he thought was right.

[percyswhxre]

spin the bottle

loser! best friend! luke castellan x daughter of athena! daughter

a/n: this is only my third story, and i’m open to feedback! let me know if you guys like it. also in this story, pretend that annabeth never like luke in that way. and sorry for the abrupt ending, i didn’t really know what to do

word count: about 900 words

it was the kind of party that was loud, messy, and filled with way too many people. music blared from the speakers, cups clinked, and laughter echoed off the walls. y/n sat on the couch with a group of people, her eyes scanning the crowd, not really paying attention to the conversation. she spotted luke across the room, his usual awkward self, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. he looked uncomfortable, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

y/n grinned to herself. she couldn’t help it. luke was her best friend, and after all his moping, he was still… well, luke. and even though he was the one to act all cool, he was secretly a mess around people, especially girls.

“you’re staring,” annabeth teased, nudging y/n’s shoulder.

“shut up,” y/n muttered, her face flushing a little. annabeth had been making fun of her for weeks now. ever since she’d started noticing that luke didn’t look as awful to her as he used to.

“okay, whatever,” annabeth said, dropping the subject, but her grin stayed.

the night wore on, and soon enough, someone suggested playing spin the bottle. y/n was just about to protest when annabeth grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her into the circle.

"this is gonna be fun," annabeth said, her eyes twinkling.

“right,” y/n muttered, rolling her eyes. the bottle spun, people kissed, laughter filled the air. it wasn’t a big deal, not really. she’d played before. but this time, there was a weight to it—something she couldn’t explain. maybe it was because luke was in the circle, sitting right across from her, looking more uncomfortable than ever.

the bottle spun again, slowly at first, then picking up speed. y/n watched it, her heart beating a little faster for no reason at all. she had no idea why, but her gaze kept drifting back to luke. it stopped. everyone gasped, laughing. y/n froze when she saw who the bottle had landed on.

luke.

he was already looking at her, his face a little red, eyes wide. he cleared his throat, looking everywhere but at her.

“well…” someone said, breaking the tension. “this is gonna be interesting.”

y/n felt her palms get sweaty. why was she nervous? they were best friends, right? they’d hung out, fought monsters, saved the world together. but for some reason, this felt different.

“come on, just kiss him already,” annabeth teased. y/n shot her a glare, but annabeth just grinned, obviously enjoying the moment.

“yeah, it’s no big deal,” luke said, his voice a little shaky, like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

y/n took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. she leaned in, closing her eyes. when her lips brushed against luke’s, the world kind of… stopped. it wasn’t a long kiss, just a quick peck, but it felt like everything changed. her heart was pounding, and when they pulled away, their faces were only inches apart.

there was a long silence.

“that was… different,” y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah,” luke agreed, his voice thick with something y/n couldn’t quite place.

the game continued around them, but they both stayed frozen, caught in the moment. luke’s gaze didn’t leave her face, and she could see the confusion and uncertainty in his eyes. but there was something else, something softer.

“hey,” luke said quietly, once everyone’s attention was elsewhere. “can we… talk for a minute?”

y/n nodded, feeling a little dizzy from the kiss. she followed him outside onto the back porch, away from the noise of the party. the cool night air hit her, and she felt a little clearer.

they stood in silence for a moment, neither of them sure what to say. luke kicked a loose pebble, clearly not knowing how to start. finally, he looked at her, his eyes serious.

“so… that kiss. it wasn’t like… just a kiss, right?”

y/n blinked, caught off guard. “uh, no,” she admitted, her voice small. “it wasn’t. but I didn’t… I mean, I didn’t expect it to be.”

“me neither,” luke said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. but then his expression shifted. “but… y/n, I… I’ve kind of liked you for a while now. like, more than a friend.”

y/n’s breath caught in her throat. she stared at him, trying to figure out if she’d heard him right. luke castellan, the guy who had never kissed anyone, who was always awkward and unsure, liked her?

“you… you do?” she asked, almost too afraid to ask the question.

he nodded, looking a little embarrassed but also relieved, like he was glad to finally say it out loud.

“yeah,” he said, stepping a little closer. “I think I always have. and after that kiss… I don’t know, it felt like maybe you felt the same.”

y/n smiled, her heart racing. “well, you’re right. I do. I’ve just been too stupid to say it.”

luke grinned, stepping closer still until there was barely any space between them. “well, then,” he said softly, leaning in, “maybe we should try that again.”

this time, when their lips met, it wasn’t quick or awkward. it was slow, and sure, and everything that had been unsaid between them clicked into place.

luke’s hands grabbed her waist and y/n’s hands tangled in his hair. she began to walk backwards as he walked forwards, until they found the padded bench seat. he sat down, pulling her into his lap without breaking their kiss.

y/n broke away with a small laugh before getting up and grabbing his hand. “let’s go back inside now, and maybe we’ll continue this later?” she asked and he almost immediately nodded. they walked back inside to the party, holding hands.

[spacecowboyy0]

bucky barnes deserves baby reg reader!!!!

i completely agree!! i saw a tiktok of a mom who brought her kid to a martial arts gym so she could practice and her kid had a little set up in the corner and one comment said: “You watch Bluey while momma chokes the life outta someone, k pumpkin?” and i thought that was hilarious, so that's the inspo for this

notes: cg!bucky, cg!nat and reader live together but buck and nat are not in a relationship (i think they're both super gay)

~1k words

You enter the boxing gym on Bucky’s hip, head resting on his shoulder. A group of you planned to spar together in a gym that you have access to. Peter had saved the owner’s daughter from getting robbed one night and now he could use the gym whenever he wanted. At least once a month you, Peter, Natasha, Bucky, Matt, Frank and Wade (sometimes a few other vigilantes) sparred together. You had planned on sparring but when you woke up feeling smaller than usual, Bucky decided it would be best if you didn’t participate (you were a little disappointed but still happy to come). 

Matt, Frank and Peter are already there when the three of you arrive. Natasha trails behind Bucky, holding two gym bags and your backpack. You squeal when you see the others, slapping your hand against Bucky’s chest in excitement. He laughs and bounces you a bit before letting you down. You run to Peter and give him a big hug. 

“Hey Petey!”

“Hi bug! No sparring for you today?” 

“Nu uh, papa says ‘m too small.” You look beside him where Matt and Frank are watching the interaction. Matt greets you with a small wave and you give him a quick hug before turning your attention to Frank. You raise your arms, requesting to be picked up, and try to give him a convincing look. 

“Please Frankie?” He tries to keep his hard expression but everyone knows he has a soft spot for you anyway, so he lifts you into his arms. When you snuggle into him, he smiles a little bit, but enough for Peter, Matt, and Wade (who just came over) to notice. They give him teasing looks and Frank just rolls his eyes.

Natasha sets down your backpack, and pulls out a blanket to spread out beside it. Frank carries you over to your area, in a spot close to all the action. He places you down on the blanket and then hands you your sketchbook and markers from your bag. You smile up at him gratefully, and he gives you a pat on the head before heading towards the ring. Nat crouches down in front of you, a soft look on her face. 

“You sit here and watch mama kick these boy’s asses, alright pumpkin?”

“Yeah!”

They’re right over there, you can literally see all of them, and yet you feel left out and needy. Colouring inside the lines is too frustrating but you can’t let go enough to scribble like you want. You tear up, getting overwhelmed by your confusing emotions. As it happened, you are in the presence of people trained to be observant, so it doesn’t take long for someone to notice your tears. Nat is fighting Matt in the ring, so Wade nudges Bucky, who stands beside him as they watch the match.

“Buck, your kid’s crying.” Bucky looks over his shoulder to where you are on your blanket with wide, wet eyes, and your bottom lip wobbling. He jogs over to you, and carefully picks you up. 

“What’s up baby?” He looks concerned as he wipes your tears with his thumb and then softly brushes your hair out of your face. 

“I dunno, jus’ feel sad ‘n miss you.” 

“Aww kid, you can keep me company while I watch the others spar ok?” You nod, sniff, and rest your head on his shoulder. He makes sure you’re secure in the crook of his arm before rifling through your bag and grabs your pacifier. He taps it against your lips and you open your mouth slightly to accept it. He walks back over to the others who are watching by the sidelines, and you hear Peter coo when you get close. 

“We got a gym baby with us?”

Bucky bounces you a bit and then turns his body so you can see Peter. You look spaced out and cozy as you rest against Bucky. The group only stays about 10 minutes longer, and the whole time you’re attached to Bucky. 

When you get back to the apartment, you lie on the bed, waiting for Bucky to get out of the shower. You play with the ring on your pacifier and roll around on the duvet. You perk up when you hear the bathroom door open, and reach out for him as he comes out. 

“I’ll be right there cutie, let me get something quick.” You grumble and watch him as he walks over to the closet and pulls fabric out of a box. 

It was Bucky’s birthday recently and Peter gifted him a special fabric that he can use to carry you around the house. There hasn’t been an opportunity to try it yet, but you’re currently clingy and tiny, and dinner needs to be made, so it’s the perfect time. 

You watch with curiosity as Bucky wraps the fabric around his stomach and then pulls it over his shoulders. 

“Alright come here baby.” He reaches his hands out and you crawl over to him. He picks you up under your armpits and rests you against his chest. You’re squished against him so you can’t see what he’s doing but you feel the fabric wrap around you, making you nice and snug. You take a moment to shift around, getting used to the new position. 

Bucky watches as you wiggle a bit before closing your eyes and relaxing fully. When he walks into the kitchen, where Nat is chopping carrots, she coos when she sees you and pauses her cutting to brush her hand over your head lovingly. 

“We got a little snug bug hm?”

“I think we gotta get this soup started so this one can eat. That sound good baby?” With your eyes closed, you respond with a quiet “mhm” and Bucky kisses the top of your head. 

i've been meaning to write for bucky so thanks for the push anon!

[trashland-llamas]

Nails, Hair, Hips, Heels

[ AO3 link ]

Dick

Is the one that convinces the rest of the guys to go with him after going once with Starfire. Demanding they clear out whatever they had on their schedules for an hour to 2 hours. Stealing one of Bruce's credit cards to pay for it.

Got the idea after realizing it could be a way to help with the various degrees of how touch starved they all are. An easy way of getting them used to touch. That and he thought of it as sibling bonding.

Every visit, he either has a bunch of new questions to ask about the process or is checking up on current gossip. Telling them about everyone he brought with him. Signing them all in, a simple manicure and dipped nails.

Picks a dusty/metallic gold for the color

Jason

Was the hardest to convince, being the most evasive out of the group. Figuring the nails would just break off with their vigilante work. Plus he didn't want to deal with the judgement that would eventually come from those working for him.

Answers the nail tech's query as to what color with a gruff tone. Otherwise not speaking at all throughout the experience once he realizes they don't mind. End up watching whatever they have playing on the TV.

Lets them maneuver his hand/fingers however they need. His are just extremely stiff. Is repeatedly tapped on the knuckles, silently telling him to relax.

Picks a deep brown color as he couldn't figure out if they had a black nail polish from what was shown in the book.

Tim

Even with drinking extensive amounts of caffeine, his fingers end up trembling. Just enough to be noticeable but the nail tech never points it out. Able to calm down when they grab a specific finger. Instead bounces his leg to get the jitters out.

Becomes the most angry out of the group whenever a nail breaks off during patrol or when going against one of Gotham's villains. Knowing it'll be a pain in the ass to find any time in his schedule to get it fixed. Not thinking about how he'd have to come up with a fake story.

Speaking of, he tends to wait way too long between visits. Reminded when the dipped surface starts to lift off the actual nail and the nail starts growing too long, exposing a bare canvas. Always saying yes when the nail clippers are offered.

Picks a neon yellowish-green color

Damian

This menace to society was successfully bribed with ice cream. While he acts like a pristine gentleman in the chair, he is listening in on all the conversations. Mentally excusing it as him gathering intel; if he wanted to be good as Robin, he had to get to know the citizens of Gotham somehow.

Corrects the nail tech when they ask if he bites his nails. Saying that he picks at them instead. Routinely gets his nails done afterwards as it helps with not picking at them or his toenails. Letting both grow out for once.

Scowls at the uncomfortable sensation that is his cuticles being pushed back. Or when they pluck at his hangnails to smooth them out. Isn’t too different an expression from his usual one so the nail tech doesn't pick up on it.

Picks a burnt orange type of color

[abarbaricyalp]

Hi! How about 19 or 23 for the hand-holding prompts?

Well, I was going to put those together, but then the mood got a little too serious for 19 23: Holding hands under the table

There was not just Sarah and the boys.

There wasn't another immediate Wilson sibling, despite Sam continuously trying to trick Bucky (and convincing Sarah to play along every now and then) into thinking there was a lost brother. But both Paul and Darlene Wilson had siblings, so Sam and Sarah had a ton of cousins and whatever the next generation would be to them. Darlene's family, the Blakes, mostly lived on the other side of New Orleans. The other Wilsons lived down the coastline, towards Texas. Paul and Darlene had settled on Delacroix as a kind-of mid-point between their families.

Sam talked about long summer trips that always had to be a Thing as far as planning went, because wrangling two young kids for hours in the car was not a two-way-one-day kind of affair. He talked about weekends spent in New Orleans, or showing his cousins around all the bayous of Delacroix. He talked about threatening to run away to the pine forests of the Louisiana-Texas border when he was a teenager, because he'd spent so many summer weeks exploring them as a kid.

Bucky hadn't met any of them, except for the odd cousin who drifted through town and came to say hi to Sam and Sarah. Time went on and families grew and big gatherings were less likely to come to fruition. Besides, Sam was busy and it's not like Bucky could just go to the smaller functions with Sarah. (Well, he could, but he wasn't going to. That would just be...imposing, probably)

But there was Paul and Darlene's Celebration of Life 25th Anniversary and almost everyone had said they'd be there. And despite the fact that Bucky got such bad cold feet the night before he slept on the boat to avoid being even more overwhelmed, Sam still told him to come. Please. It was always the please that got him. He'd deny Sam very little in the world, truth be told, but once that please was out there, he was a fish on a hook.

Sarah kept saying not everyone was there but Bucky couldn't believe that. There were so, so, so, so many people. The same creeping dread that had plagued him the night before was back, curling at his stomach and keeping a flush high on his face.

He wanted to make a good impression, but that was difficult even for the best life partners. The fact that many of these people probably already had an opinion of him was making it much worse. The fact that it was Sam and Sam deserved the sun, the moon, and all the stars was the real nail in the coffin. Everyone here should know that and instead, there was Bucky on his arm instead.

It was interesting to keep catching Sam's features in other people's faces. He knew Sam took more heavily after his mom. Many of the Blakes had the same gap in their teeth and his high cheekbones. But someone had come up to him almost immediately when he arrived--an older woman that Sam didn't seem to recognize, but hid well--and grabbed his face as she said in a watery but proud breath, "Oh, you look just like him. I can't believe it."

And then she'd disappeared and left Sam blinking at nothing.

It was interesting too to see how many of the younger generations of Wilsons did look like Sam and Sarah as well. All tall and regal in a way Bucky didn't think should be genetic but apparently was. It was the hidden features where Paul came out on Sam's face. Their eyes, namely. Apparently they glinted the same way. And the crooked set of their mouths. "Oh, trouble," one of Sam's aunts had said halfway through a scheme of his and a cousin's. "No, no, no. Paulie used to make the same face. You go sit down. Have some cake." And she shooed him off, away from some strange beer bottle bowling pin game construction.

Sam talked like Paul too, Bucky learned from other people at the event, the handful who talked to him when Sam wasn't beside him. Sure, on the TV, for sure. But also just as he meandered around the party and cajoled stories from people or pitched into his own epic tales. (No, he had not actually caught a three foot long fish recently, nor had he battled a horde of aliens in Oregon the other day. There were, like, six max)

Bucky picked up stories about Paul and Darlene too. People telling him about silly things Sam had done in high school that his parents had as well. The way Sam was carrying on their memory in everything he did now. One man from the church swore him to secrecy and gave him Paul Wilson's old sermon's book, which was filled with lectures he'd given, but dozens and dozens of stories he hadn't shared. Lots of them pertaining to Sam.

"I just knew," the man said, patting Bucky's hand on the journal, "One day I'd be able to give this away to someone else to take care of. You can't give it to him." This was imperative in the deal. "But you must remind him of what's in it, always. And you can't die," he added seriously, teeth clicking together with the force of his words. "I was gonna give it to his friend from the military, but he died before he came back. I wouldn't have ever gotten it back. Sam would've had it. You can't let him have it."

This was more responsibility than Bucky was expecting. Sarah had told him to distract the kids and make sure people didn't take half the strawberry pretzel cake in one go. (Three different people were culprits for this and Bucky had to stop a whole different, younger, person from taking a quarter of it at a time.) And it was a responsibility he didn't fully understand. Still, Bucky nodded, just as seriously, and put the notebook in his backpocket. He'd have to stash it in the truck later because his backpocket was for Sam's hand, but Sam was helping set up the slideshow inside, so he was safe for now.

(When he'd asked about the man, Sam had said he was his godfather. He and Paul had been closer than twins growing up, but had drifted apart as Sam and Sarah grew up. Still called now and then, but not regularly. Sent the same birthday present every year, but it was never late)

Thankfully, the meal was inside. Not thankfully, Sam, Sarah, and the boys were, of course, at the front of the hall and Bucky could only hide behind Sam's shoulder for so long.

The slideshow full of images of Paul and Darlene as kids, as young people, and their life as a couple and a family played on the stage. There were so many pictures, Bucky didn't think it would have to loop over. Sam explained why there were some gaps, where albums or cameras had been ruined in storms or other catastrophes. It only took a few moments for Sam to grab Bucky's hand beneath the table.

His fingers were shaking and, when Bucky looked up at him, his throat kept bobbing as he swallowed and swallowed and swallowed.

"Sweetheart," Bucky whispered, leaning forward to be close enough for only Sam to hear. "Are you alright?"

"Don't sweetheart me right now," Sam breathed back, eyes squeezing shut for a few seconds before he opened them again. His waterlines were wet, eyes shining. "I'm fine. Just...don't let go of my hand. Please."

Bucky nodded, took the opportunity to kiss Sam's shoulder, and sat back in his seat. He put both hands around Sam's, one to tangle their fingers together and one to trace nothing designs into Sam's skin. Sam squeezed his hand in acknowledgement and then loosened his hold again.

Many different people spoke. People from the church, people from the foodbank, which Darlene had helped run apparently, their friends, their family. Someone talked about sleeping on the Wilson's couch for two weeks while she figured a safe way out of town, how the Wilsons didn't know her from anyone but opened their door to her anyway, that she named her daughter Darlene.

Sam squeezed his hand and Bucky squeezed it back, moving his thumb along the length of Sam's fingers, back to his knuckles, and up the next one, slow and constant and firm.

The last person to speak was a woman Sam knew, but who Bucky hadn't gotten to talk to. She had just been finishing her conversation with Sam when Bucky had found him again earlier, stuck around long enough for Sam to make his introductions before she was pulled away. She knew Paul and Darlene from around town. Wouldn't say she was a best friend, more a busy body, but she kept an eye on them, so lovely and young as they were, perfect little children too.

"And that's where I'd like to end the speeches for tonight," she said. "With their children. Sam, Sarah, your mama and papa wouldn't have asked for a better legacy in life. Watching you grow up, in the face of joy and adversity, with grace and poise and dignity and elegance. The world was better to have your parents in it, but the world is just as good since you are both here too. We all know of our hometown superhero, but you both, and your parents, were super long before there were any aliens and wings and suits involved. At celebrations of life, I do love to look at the future of these memories. Paul and Darlene are in the best, kindest, strongest hands. This entire room is their future, but you were everything to them and now you are all that they are too."

Sam's throat moved again, but before Bucky could understand what he was doing, Sam had turned and collapsed against Bucky's side, face against Bucky's shoulder. His hand was shaking so badly, it was making Bucky's arm twitch. Bucky kept holding onto him, having to stop smoothing over his hand so he could wrap that arm around Sam's shoulders, hand against his head.

Sam cried silently against his shoulder, warm tears soaking through Bucky's shirt quickly. Bucky adjusted his hand so he could hold Sam's more firmly.

"I've got you," he murmured softly. "It's alright. You're alright."

"I miss them so much. I just want them to know I love them."

Bucky pressed a kiss to the top of Sam's head and stayed there. "They know, Sammy. Of course they do."

"They made me. Of course everything I do is them. I'm who I am 'cause of them. And no one else knows their name."

"Baby, look at how many people came out to celebrate them. They know. They all know."

"It's not enough. I'm not doing--" Sam voice stuttered off and he clung onto Bucky's hand even harder.

"They love you, Sam," Bucky said softly, kissed his head again. "And they're proud of you. Everything about you. You are a miracle."

Sam swiped at his eyes quickly, took in another stuttering breath. "How many people are looking at me?"

Pointedly, no one was looking at him, but that was a terrible answer. "The cornbread just refreshed, so everyone's fighting over the biggest pieces," Bucky said instead. "No one's looking at you."

"Mrs. Miriam can't cut an even slice, even if angel wings were waitin' for her afterwards," Sam said. Bucky let the posturing go without comment. He wiped his eyes again, sniffled, and then cleared his throat.

No sooner had he sat up than one of the cousins' little ones came tripping over and climbed into Sam's lap while her mom shouted at her to leave him alone. "Mr. Sam," she said seriously. "I want to fly. How do I do that?" She waved a bat plushie for emphasis.

Sam laughed, watery but stronger. "Well, you have to eat your vegetables," he said seriously.

Instantly her nose scrunched. "Even the okra?" she asked.

"Especially the okra!" Sam cried out in affront.

"Okra is gross," Bucky agreed with her conspiratorially.

The girl thrilled with vindication and launched into a story about how she broke her arm leaping off of a tree (another thing that must be genetic because Sam and Sarah had done that too) and Sam caught his breath while listening to her. He squeezed Bucky's hand again.

Bucky squeezed it back and did not let go.

[smalltownrobin]

Honestly, I think all the problems with Vickie and Rovickie could have been fixed if she was put in Eddie's place.

What do you think?

I have seen this idea before, and I never really gave it much thought apart from "oh yeah ofc that'd have been better", but thinking about it properly, for ME personally, I don't think it would work.

I think there's two ways to do it, one being basically just changing Vickie into Eddie, making her a metalhead d&d player, but Robin also has a crush on her. That could obviously work story wise, but at that point Vickie wouldn't be Vickie, she'd be Eddie. rovickie would be an entirely different ship, even if Robin's crush is existent before the start. If people like that idea, that's great, but I personally don't like the idea of changing Vickie's entire personality and character (which yes she does have one) just for the sake of making her more important earlier on.

So the second option would be keeping Vickie entirely the same, sweet artsy femme band geek, but is the one who sees Chrissy die. This would cater to the rovickie ship more and keep them in tact, but it would change the plot entirely. The town would be much less convinced Vickie could have been the one to kill Chrissy, both due to the fact Eddie's interests of metal and d&d contributed to the "satanic panic" which made Jason and everyone else instantly believe he was guilty, and also just the fact Vickie is a girl (even ten years later in 1996, Scream tells us society doesn't think women can be serial killers). It could be argued that her dad or a brother (or maybe even Dan) could get the blame and Vickie joins the group to clear their name, but at that point that person would become the Eddie character, not Vickie. Not to mention the probable difference in Vickie and Eddie's social class and wealth, like, where would Vickie hide? Which of the group would see the lights in her house and see her drive away if she's not in the trailer park? (I do have a hc Vickie is Dustin's neighbour actually)

Obviously, with either way of doing it, something would be drastically different. The first option seems more likely what they could have done in the show, but as I said, then Vickie wouldn't be Vickie and rovickie wouldn't be rovickie, which may be a good thing to some people, but for me it isn't. There is definitely ways they could have been done better, but I don't think just making her an entirely different existing character would be an easy fix or not come with its own issues. It's definitely an interesting idea and fun to think about, though.

I have had a couple other ideas about how Vickie's role could have been changed in s4 similarly to this where her personality would stay in tact, one being that she was dating one of the basketball team instead of Dan, and one being that she was Vecna's fourth target instead of Patrick (but they manage to save her), if either of those concepts interest you.

[labyrinthofsphinx]

Hello! This might be a silly question, but I was curious if you have any future Hazbin/Helluva fics or ideas planned once transmissions is completed? Whether it be Drift or Vox & Al centric or otherwise? Absolutely no pressure of course, you do whatever makes you happy at your own time, I know you’ve sorta elaborated a little on it in other asks before but I wasn’t completely sure lol (everyone btw please go read these fics and give them traction! They are so so good!)

Awww, Anon <3 You got me all blushy now! Really though, glad you like my fics! Was actually in the middle of writing up the next Transmission chapter too, coincidentally <33

But yeah, actually I have a list of different ideas for more helluva/hazbin shenanigans, mostly taking place in the same verse! Haven't decided which to actually start penning yet, and maybe you guys could let me know what interests you the most! Here's a short synopsizes of the ones I had sorta outlined:

For those of you that have read Statistical Outliers, you might remember Vox mentioning an event called the Grand Exhibition, an annual ball that's thrown by overlords for overlords. You might also recall that there's a party that originally inspired that one, a goetia party which even Vox described as 'beyond exclusive'. Well, our media man himself warrants an invitation to this exclusive event, the first overlord personally invited since the one that started the overlord ball! But there's both pluses and minuses to be one of the only Sinners among an echelon of demons who, um, have their own agendas. I say one of because now that's Lucifer is back and trying to spread his wings more, his daughter convinces him to take some of the guests from the hotel as a plus one, or two, or six. Which may include, the the ire of the devil himself, our favorite radio host. Sad as it is to say, Vox might just be safer dancing with Alastor than rubbing elbows with this crowd.

That's the short synopsis but it's kinda a celebration of the hellverse as a whole. You might see some appearances from characters you might not suspect, like Drift, the Sins, famous goetia, and potentially a dysfunctional work family of imps ;)

Another idea actually branches off an initiative that Charlie comes up with, with the assistance of Emily, hoping to help bridge the gap between sinners and winners. And what better way to do that than a friendly interview where Sinners can apologize to the Winners that they may have been sent upstairs before their time. That's the pitch, anyways. In reality? Vox, master of television, is brought on board to help make this whole thing run smooth. And of course he plans on bending it all to his own benefit. Everything kinda gets derailed when the first interview ends up being Drift, meeting the man he hit on accident. And you know? The victim here might not act the way you'd think for an angel.

Aside from some more Drift and Vox interactions, this one was going to go into the kid's backstory in more detail, and kinda comment on the disbalance between judgement of Winners and Sinners. What separates one from the other? Sometimes, all it takes is one bad day. Or being at the wrong place at the wrong time. And Vox is over here looking to make this whole thing turn to his advantage.

On the more Helluva boss centered side of things, I do have a fic regarding Striker and his backstory. Written from the perspective of Striker's childhood best friend, its a story about the wilds of Wrath, where rugged childhood adventures turn to gritty adult drama. Its a rollercoaster, meant to show off how exactly Striker got to be who he was and introducing another character who is going to feature here and there throughout the intertwined webs of stories, my helluva oc, Wyld. This one is already written out quite a bit, nearly 200,000 words at this point, just never published. Wasn't sure there'd be much interest in it. Fair warning, this one gets dark in places because it's very much inspired by gritty realistic westerns, like Eastwood's Unforgiven.

Those are the ones on the docket right now, mostly because those are the ones I've outlined so far, but I'm always adding to it. For anyone interested in my fics, the first one is Statistical Outliers, which is where the main man of television meets a scrawny hairball by the name of Drift and takes it upon himself to, uh, rehome him. And why does it seem like Alastor's sticky fingers are involved in this somehow? The sequel, currently ongoing, is called Transmission Not Received , which is a mystery that forces a reluctant Alastor and Vox to work together to figure out who's running across Pentagram City and nabbing kids from right under their parents' noses in the dead of night.

Hoping to get the next chapter of Transmission up soonish and, boy, is it a doozey!

Either way, let me know what you guys think, maybe check out the fics if ya see something that interests you, and a special shout out back to Anon for making my day! <3

Thanks for the ask! <33

[dapperd3m0n]

Okay, so I love everyone's responses to this so far, but this analysis in particular got me childishly excited about the potential for what this could entail.

For sure, it would be easy to throw simplified meanings at the uninitiated -- yes, at the risk of turning it into a playing card system. I don't think this is entirely a bad thing though. Just as skilled hypnotists can slip things in subliminally and work "behind the scenes" during an induction in ways that a subject may be entirely unaware of, I think this can absolutely be the case with "simplified" tarot. We can still work with all the nuance of the cards, but we don't have to overwhelm the person or people we're toying with reading with all of that information. (We can overwhelm them in other ways later.)

I loooove love love your advanced analysis, and I think the only limitation here is one's imagination (and of course, an understanding of the tarot). One interesting thing that stands out to me though is the idea that cards remain in effect until we see one of the major arcana, which then takes over the whole ordeal. Does this imply that as we read the cards, we take it in a linear fashion, card by card? Or would it be possible to have a three card spread, say, and weave the story together based on the interaction of the cards? This combined interaction can serve as both a way to drop someone and implant suggestions as they go deeper, the final result coming from the reader's interpretation of the spread as a whole. I think either option here is fine, and there can be interesting and wonderful results with both. Maybe it comes down to the type of spread? Or is it analogous to different types of inductions? Or is it just a different way to play the game?

"Would you hypnotise someone to act on their own understanding of the cards or yours?" As a hypnotist, I'd say my own. I'm the one weaving this story, teasing the message out of the cards. You're here to hang onto my every word. (Impersonal you, not you specifically, but you get the idea.) In the words of @toyintrance , "the fortune teller, like any good charlatan, has such a way with words ... that you can't help but feel utterly convinced by every word they say. ... I just think it's sexier if it's a deliberate manipulation." I wholeheartedly agree.

Finally, I love the idea of rewriting the major arcana (I had a very similar idea to yours about the Devil turning someone into "a lusting, whimpering mess"), but I'm even more enchanted with the idea of rewriting the Fool's journey -- especially with the implication of the Magician!

This may be an even deeper rabbit whole than I originally thought... And you're right, I think I'll need a new deck. I don't think my primary deck would look at me the same way either.

Alright, I have an idea and I’m not entirely sure what to do with it yet, but I’m going to throw it out into void and see what happens:

Hypno tarot.

Discuss.

[snivel1]

Are people ready for old men titties and tummies?

A small warm-up to figure out how I wanna draw them! They're going to the aquapark!! Watch out everyone, two silver foxes coming through!!!🗣🗣

[trauma-bot]

sin eater

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

Why do you think the tides have slightly turned from "Elia deserves better than Rhaegar" to shipping her and Rhaegar together? Like what is the psychology behind these people because I've seen some of them like/reblog anti Rhaegar posts while also shipping Rhaegar x Elia at the same time.

hey anon! my thoughts are a bit messy, but i’ve done my best to explain them coherently :)

so, rhaegar was the best man anyone could have when elia was alive, and most people want the best for their favs. he was considered the most handsome, didn’t have a bad personality, and he was crown prince—meaning elia was almost queen, which is often seen as the greatest role a woman can have. the narrative also treats rhaegar as a beautiful, tragic, haunting figure, and elia actually had this very aesthetically pleasing man all to herself at one point! she was married to him, had children with him, and her life was so close to perfect! but rhaegar just had to go and ruin it. 😠

for many elia stans, if rhaegar hadn’t fallen in love with another woman (they want him to have been a completely different character), then everything would’ve been perfect, and elia would’ve had the best, most desirable life. however, that’s not what happened—elia met a very tragic end, and as a result, these stans feel double the bitterness. because of this bitterness, they blame rhaegar for everything (even though it’s not logical to do so), but he’s just too ‘perfect’ to let go of. so, for years these stans have made rhaegar revolve around elia, filling his tag with posts about her out of bitterness. so, i do believe that this obsession with rhaegar x elia has always been there, but i think it’s become a more favorable stance on the elia stan side of the fandom because of a mix of reasons.

plus, rhaegar is one of the few canon relationships we know elia had, since she’s not much of a character. because of this, and the fact that most people don’t like to stray too far from canon, most elia stans are forced to focus on rhaegar, which has created an echo chamber. basically, if a sentiment about elia and rhaegar’s relationship becomes popular, then the whole elia stan side of the fandom will likely regurgitate the sentiment. (also, this desire to stick close to canon is likely why the elia x arthur ship was so popular. while it’s a total crack ship, it had good aesthetics, and since elia and arthur at least knew each other, it allowed the stans to create their perfect fanfiction whilst sticking it to rhaegar. but remember, elia was actually married to rhaegar and had children with him, so while arthur is cool, rhaegar was always ‘top dog,’ meaning arthur would never be able to match up to rhaegar to most elia stans. also, the arthur x elia crack ship is likely her second most popular ship, which just shows how little elia stans have to work with, so they’re always forced to eventually return back to rhaegar for a lot of things.)

however, even if the elia x rhaegar ship gains more popularity, these stans will never stop hating rhaegar because he wasn’t ‘perfect’—and he wasn’t perfect because he didn’t love elia. plus, rhaegar loving another woman and supposedly kidnapping her is what began the war that led to elia’s tragic death. that’s bitterness times 1000. and while i don’t actually blame rhaegar for the war, i do think that this is how an elia stan sees it. i also don’t view rhaegar’s complex relationship with elia as a bad thing—it’s actually a very realistic take on an arranged marriage between two decent people. but most elia stans will never be able to get over the fact that they almost had everything, which is why many have it out for lyanna, as they consider her a thief who ruined their ‘perfection.’

tbh, that might be why so many elia stans are so obsessed with the idea that rhaegar only got with lyanna because of the prophecy—they don’t want to believe that rhaegar actually loved a different woman and not their perfect self insert elia. that’s a bit mean of me… but i don’t know what else one would call the ‘elia’ elia stans have created.

now that i’ve laid all those thoughts out, i’ll try to explain why the tides seem to be turning… i think it may have something to do with the ‘targaryens are all evil and bad’ sentiment losing popularity. i think this shift has occurred due to a mix of factors, such as years of fandom fights and fandom cycles leading to the targs being more liked now than before. it helps that canon doesn’t actually condemn the targs/favors them quite a bit, and the influx of new targ fans from HOTD has also contributed. this combination of reasons seems to have shifted the way the mainstream fandom discusses all the targaryen characters, including rhaegar. so, with this shift, it’s only natural that some elia stans/elia x rhaegar shippers—who’ve always been there—are using this opportunity to push their agenda. while these stans still hate rhaegar and see him as the bad guy, they just can’t let go of him. and as the mainstream fandom moves away from the anti targaryen sentiment, these smaller corners of the fandom, which tend to be echo chambers, are also affected, which has therefore led to a rise in rhaegar x elia shippers and the ‘shifting tide’ that you’ve also noticed.