#he does in fact debate on keeping it
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i call this one gene had a little lamb
this is just a little drabble i wrote based on the little sheep comment i made here. i wanted to characterize gene's mother and father a bit more, as well explore gene's character (Êá”Ì©Ì© á”Ì©Ì©) he's meant to be about 7 in the first part of the fic (horrible, i know).
some scenes were genuinely so sad for me to write so please look at the content warnings before reading! IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING THO. no animals were harmed in the writing of this fic. it was just sheep actor guys i swear its literally eating grass and chilling in a field as we speak
cw: animal violence, descriptions of animal death, verbal abuse, mentions of physical abuse, toxic masculinity, blood (let me know if i missed anything)
àŒ¶âąââàšâĄà§âââąàŒ¶
âSylvia! Tell that boy to get his be-hind out here!â
Geneâs fatherâs booming voice made him freeze. He blinked.
He slowly turned to look at his mother from his place on the ground, surrounded by toy trains and wooden blocks.
Sylvia gave Gene a sad smile. âI think youâd better go see what he wants, baby.â
Gene gulped. His father was angry about something. That was bad news. Nothing good ever came of angry men.
âSyliva, I ainât gonna ask again! You send him right on out here!â
Sylvia pursed her lips and swung her legs over the chaise lounge she had been sprawled out in. She closed the distance between her and her son, bending at the waist to kiss his cheek and guide him to standing.Â
âItâll be alright. Why, he probably just needs you to climb into the attic again and get down another bag of feed. Go on, Gene. Come on back when you're finished.â
âYes maâam.â He whispered. He shuffled his way out the door and to the front of the barn, where his father was standing, ominously red-faced.
Geneâs heart dropped when he saw what was laying at his fatherâs feet.
âWould you do me the great goddamn honor--â He reached over and steered Gene by the back of the neck to face the small bundle of curly white on the floor-- âof explaining the hell Iâm lookinâ at?â
His voice was venomous.Â
âA l-lamb, sir,â Gene stammered.
âA lamb," He scoffed. "And ainât this the same goddamn lamb I told you to shoot yesterday?â
âYessir.â
His words hardly came out as more than a whisper.
It was true, though. The poor thing had been born one day ago, and it was obvious right away something was wrong. Its back legs were crooked and mangled, like the bones hadnât set properly. The sad truth was that it had no use on the farm, not even for meat. His father took one look at it and ordered Gene to put it out of its misery.
Still, Gene couldnât bring himself to do it. It was just so small. It had such big, inky black eyes, eyes that stared right into Geneâs soul. The poor thing barely had a chance. It had never visited the soft, green pasture. It never tasted milk. It never got to play with its siblings. And he was supposed to slaughter it?
He couldnât do it.
He had trembled there, holding the revolver, for about an hour straight until he gave up and carried the tiny creature to the barn, wrapped it up in his coat, and hid it behind some crates with the promise of checking up on it the next day.
It was stupid, yes, but he didnât know what else to do.
"You think you get to pick and choose when to listen to me, dont'cha?" Clint spat.
Gene peered up at him with big, blue eyes and shook his head.
"N-No sir."
"Sure as shit seems like it."
"I j-just wanted to help it--"
"I don't want to hear it." Clint manhandled his single-action revolver from his belt and pointed it at the lamb.
âYouâre gonna shoot it. Right here. Right now. In front of me. I donât want to hear no whininâ, and I certainly donât want to hear none of your sissy crap. Be a man, for Christ's sake, and shoot the goddamn animal.â
Then, the gun was cocked and shoved into his small hands. The lamb bleated softly, and Gene thought he might throw up.
âBut Pa--â
âI said I donât want to hear it.â
Gene shook. He bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood when he felt traitorous tears well in his eyes.Â
He knew better than to talk back. If he refused, his father would only get more angry. Still, how was he supposed to do this? How could do this when the small creature was looking at him like that?
All Gene could think about was how white the little lamb was. Itâd only been alive for a day and a half. It wasnât brown and grimy like the older sheep, it was snow-white and soft and curly and warm and tender.
The tears won. He felt a smack to the back of his head.
âQuit yer cryinâ. Get on with it. Now.â
Gene couldnât help the soft sob that tore from his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut at the sight of the lamb curling in on itself into a tiny little wool ball. He couldnât do this, he couldnât do this, he couldnât do this--
âEugene Alexander Delaney. Donât make me repeat myself.â
A hand clamped down on his shoulder as another guided the revolver to aim at the lambs small head.Â
âPull the goddamn trigger or trust me, you wonât like what happens next.â
He did trust him. He knew his punishment would be awful. So why couldnât he move?
Finally, his fatherâs patience wore out. His large finger slipped over Geneâs tiny one, and yanked back the trigger with a loud pop.
It was over in a second. Gene wanted so badly to take his eyes off the visceral, gory sight, but he was still frozen in place. There was blood everywhere.
Clint pulled Gene away from the sight, grumbling curses under his breath, and walked him from the barn and to the house, where Syliva was standing on the porch, trying to get a glimpse of them.
âWhat on Godâs green earth is goin' on?â She asked, finally getting a look at the state Gene was in.
âYour boy is a wuss is what's goin' on. Canât even shoot a goddamn lamb that was on it way out in a few days anyways.â
"You made him shoot it?" Her voice took a dangerous tone.
"He's too soft, Syl. It needed to be done."
"He is seven years old--"
"When I was seven, I was already helpin' my daddy skin and butcher the meat from huntin' trips. This boy is too soft."
Gene stared blankly at a spot on the ground, doing his best to tune out the conversation. He hated being the cause of a fight. He wished he could be different, he wanted to be different. He didn't know why doing things his father wanted him to do put such an ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Suddenly, the tension reached its peak with a shout from Syliva, demanding her husband go take a walk and cool off.
Clint stormed off, reholstering his gun and scoffing the whole way back to the barn. Gene kept his head down, lip quivering and tears falling. A small, hitched breath escaped him.
âOh baby,â Sylvia whispered, pulling Gene close to her chest. She threaded a gentle hand through his blonde locks.
And thatâs all it took. Gene erupted into sobs, and sobbed and sobbed and clung to his mother like the little boy he was. His entire body was shaking now.
âShh.. shhh, itâs alright baby. That poor thing was probably hurtin' real bad. Your daddy was right that it wasnât gonna make it through the night.â
Gene continued to bawl. He gathered a fistful of his mother's dress in his hand and shook his head, whimpering lowly.
Sylvia gathered her boy up in her arms and sat with him in her rocking chair, rhythmically rocking him back and forth. She cradled him close, just like when he was smaller. She hummed softly, smoothing his hair back with a gentle hand.
Gene buried his face into his motherâs chest and breathed in her scent. She smelled like peach jam. He sobbed harder.
âLet it out, baby. Itâs okay. I know. Itâs okay.â
The two stayed like that until Geneâs sobs turned into soft hiccups and then evened out. Sylvia kept rocking him.
âąâąâąâą
Gene stared down at the small, injured lamb at his feet.
It was bloody. There was a deep wound in its flank. A coyote must have gotten to it after it escaped the pasture. It was sprawled on the side of the road, panting, and left to the elements. The poor thing was shaking.
Geneâs hand went to his hip holster instinctively, and he whipped out his revolver. He cocked it with a soft click before he stopped. Lowered it. Took a closer look.
Other than the wound in its side, the lamb seemed to be relatively okay. Gene was almost certain the animal would be fine if treated properly.
He pursed his lips into a straight line and replaced his gun in its holster.
He crouched and carefully, gently gathered the thing into his arms and held it close.
Calliope whinnied softly as Gene mounted her, still cradling the small bundle of white to his chest. It was soft, warm, and little. It bleated quietly.
He clicked his teeth and urged Calliope onwards, shrugging off his coat to wrap around the tiny thing.
He tilted his head down to whisper to it, the sound hardly audible. âItâs gonna be alright. Iâll take care of you.â
àŒ¶âąââàšâĄà§âââąàŒ¶
#emotional whump#whump writing#whump community#whump#angst#gene and cassidy#gene delaney#cw animal death#cw animal injury#cw blood#cw parental abuse#guys don't worry the little lamb is Alive and Well#Older Gene keeps the lamb for a few days and nurses it back to health before sneaking it into a random pasture#he does in fact debate on keeping it
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EVIL MARK, EVIL MARK, EVIL MARK!!! I want to be coherent about this season but please picture me foaming at the mouth and running on the walls. S2 being what if Mark's just like his Dad? Insanity. I love this show. Anyways, AU where an Evil!Mark tries to make Our!Mark worse, and Our!Mark tries to make the other better. Something something confronting your idea of the worst version of oneself. Plus, tweaked black and yellow costume because I saw it and immediately went murder hornet lookin' ass and knew I had to draw it. Evil ass Mark. Horrible. I think he should be dragged kicking and screaming into redemption.
#mark and the fact he is fighting for this fucking life to avoid the Many Bad Endings???? im pacing. getting out the red string.#when the season is about who you are and what you could become. when trying to be good is an active choice and a struggle.#RAHHHHHHHHHHH#chewing on the bars of my enclosure...when every mark is evil OUR mark is the outlier. the exception. the OTHER. RAHHHH#dog poetry being mark poetry because how often can you kick a dog before it starts snarling before you raise your hand?#how often can you beat it before it rips into you without mercy? when it bites not at your hand but at your neck?#when does violence for survival and violence for vengeance start and end? when your opponent is down and you keep drawing blood?#circling and pacing and losing my mind over this btw if you care#anyways self vs self gets me going crazy. did you know i loved the end of atsv? because it shows.#i think o!mark would lose his fucking mind at what evil wasp looking mark has done + this mf wasp would LOATHE mark's kindness#they both see the other as the WORST version of themselves and they can't stand it. They can't shatter the mirror but they think they can--#--change the reflection.#evil mark seeing mark and seeing what he USED to be#mark seeing what he COULD be#CAN U SEE THE VISION??????#digital art#invincible rotating in my mind#invincible fanart#fanart#mark my beloved#mark grayson fanart#mark grayson#invincible s2#invincible show#mark like hello this is my secret twin and he is NOTHING like me hahahaha anyways wanna debate about having mORALS and LIFE#mark grayson vs the urge not to accept every responsibility as his own#he's batman coded that way#ok im done yapping#if this happened in the comics in any way shape or form dont tell me JACK SHIT or i will PUMMEL YOU with my SHOES
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ok i know everyone says "love like you is soooo xyz shipcore" but i need you to know it's kuwameshicore to me. song's got yusuke written all over it arright. in case you don't have the lyrics memorized like i do here they are
#it's too mushy for him but like.. the beats are all there yknow#kuwa thinks the world of him and it helps him love himself enough to live (see the wake scene but also like. in general)#while keiko's been there all along i think it's kuwabara that really serves as a bridge into more friendships (maybe botan? debatable)#the wondering when im coming back/shaken by how long it took is pretty self explanatory. guy keeps dying on him#'i always thought i might be bad' honestly yusuke probably thinks he IS bad but kuwa contrasting him might make him feel it all over again#sometimes. not bc kuwa's doing anything wrong just like.. oh yeah im TOTALLY right about that sucking thing bc here's another example#and obviously they're very different in approaches to virtue and honor (perceived goodness)#yyh#kuwameshi#and i think yusuke deep down feels he owes kuwabara a lot. he's saved his life multiple times and kept him company#he understands a lotta things in a way keiko can't and pushes him to be better in his own way. there's a debt there#so the 'if i could begin to do something that does right by you' bit feels like a sentiment he'd have at some point#like. why'd he save eikichi if not that yanno. stuff like that#idk. again it's a bit Too mushy for him but the fact that a lotta the beats align so well...#maybe this is just the quiet tender sentiments deeeeeeep deep in yusuke's heart. idk post over#anyway if you haven't listened to this before I'd recommend it it's just a gorgeous piece to me. mwah
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I'm curious !! did the twins debate on running away and reporting ford (since in dippers mind ford's a potential cult leader) but ended up letting an 8ball or the like decide for them and thus ending up staying, like they did with grunkle stan in canon? :0 or did they just go along with it off the bat?
(this might be worded weird its v late for me atm)
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Oh, they did in fact end up running away! While Stan does an okay job at hiding the fact that he has Stuffâą going in the background, Ford does a particularly horrible job at keeping it in the basement.
Even so, the twins' scrutiny of Stan was more in terms of legality than actual mortal peril. Ford, however, from their point of view, could very well sacrifice them during the night for one of his "demonic cult rituals" (he wouldn't, of course). They did flip a coin about it beforehand, but they ended up running away anyways.
Don't worry though! Ford managed to find and reassure them before they could get too far, and bring them back to the shack.
#submission#sput chatters#gravity falls#gravity falls au#HWINEBHABWNAJCAHOWEEATOWEUB AU#grunkle ford#mabel pines#dipper pines
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I think a thing that people get wrong about Jason's anger is that it's not explosive.
It's cold. Jason isn't the type of person who storms off at every little thing or goes throwing tantrums and setting things on fire blindfully.
He's the type of person who's very practical. He keeps to himself, always. You rarely see issues where Jason's anger is reactive at the moment where the trigger happens to him. If you see his character up close, most of the time when he's triggered his reaction is calm. Even cold.
He gets triggered -> He keeps to himself â He makes a plan â And then he reacts.
Jason's anger being something explosive and out of character and out of place is actually how other people (characters) see it, because they have no idea on how it's playing out on Jason's head.
And that's a thing you can see operating since he was a child.
Where the only exceptions about this effect is either when someone he believes needs his help is involved.
See Nightwing Annual (2021)
But In Batman #411 when Jason learns the fact that Two-Face was responsible for his father's death and Bruce was keeping that from him as a secret his first reaction isn't to blow up on him.
Was to seethe.
Bruce goes up home after dealing with a Two-Face case (in my field we call that poetic irony) and asks Alfred where Jason is, Alfred's answer is that he's been sleeping all day (which is a conclusion that Alfred drew probably after going to check on Jason and seeing him in fact on his bed all day).
But when you see the next panel, even though he is on the bed, He's fully awake and both his expression and his body language shows that he's in fact angry.
This is the first time he appears again in the comics after learning that Two Face killed his dad.
Jason doesn't go towards Bruce immediately to demand an explanation or ask why he did this, or even to throw the truth on his face.
(Which could be debatable that that's something the Dick would usually do, but I'm not that literate on Dick's comics)
His reaction wasn't immediate.
His reaction was to go to his bed and stay quiet. Jason stayed calm and collected the whole trip until meeting Two Face again.
But the moment Jason as Robin has the opportunity to get his hands on Two-Face he does this
From Bruce, and maybe Alfred's perspective it could be interpreted as out of place or him storming off.
But it isn't. Jason was able to keep his cool (even though he shut off), until he was face a face to Two Face.
Does that mean he planned that to happen?
That's debatable, in any moment of this issue it is shown that Jason was actually planning to get to Two Face and do this. I my personal opinion, other and much more plausible explanation is: That he was in fact trying to keep to himself but couldn't hold back the moment that he saw his dad's murder.
You can see the same thing happening as Jason learns that Batman got another Robin in Red Hood: Lost Days.
Talia asks "You all right?" and Jason's first answer is "Sure Why Wouldn't I Be Alright?"
When he's alone he finally has the moment to break down.
(Actually both Red Hood: The lost days and Batman: Under the Red Hood are great case studies on how that usually play out on Jason's head.)
Jason is way more in control of his emotions than people ever give him credit for. The thing is that Jason holds it back until he either blows off or is capable to throw it back in someone's face.
#I didn't finish not even half of my thoughts in here but I'm going to publish it before it gets drag in my 182828383 drafts#if you disagree lets fist fight at six am#jason todd#q rambles#character study#writing Jason Todd#â this is not a guide this is literally the tag I use to organize things#q screams at the void#q rants
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I like imagining a scenario in which Jason, Tim and Damian are arguing about Dick and just keep trying to one-up one another:
Damian: I was his Robin and he clearly likes me best.
Tim: I mean, technically I was his Robin first. And that last statement is debatable (and wrong).
Damian: Tt. You were father's Robin, I was Grayson's only before the original Batman returned.
Jason: Oh, for fucks sake, why does that even matter? He accepted me as Robin first and gave me his old costume, try topping that.
Tim: Been there, done that.
Jason: Not first you haven't.
Tim: Irrelevant. I think being accepted as Robin and being his Robin first puts me above you both.
Damian: Richard made me Robin on his own accord, father's intervention was unrequired.
Tim: Do you think that maybe that was because, I don't know, Bruce was 'dead' at the time?
Damian: I don't see how that refutes my argument, Drake.
Tim: He didn't even want you as Robin, he did it so you didn't go running off to the league.
Jason: Face it, brat, Dick didn't have much of a choice on the matter. With me, on the other hand-
Tim: I can give you a list of reasons why what you're about to say is wrong.
Jason: Stop trying to be a smartass, you-
Damian: This discussion is getting sidetracked. I can win this argument with the simple fact that Richard planned to adopt me.
Jason: Get in line kid, he tried with me first.
Tim: Wait- what? Damian makes sense because Bruce... but you? Full offense, by the way.
Jason: I was a redhead and a circus kid, he had all the reasons to adopt me.
Damian: Todd, you're a brunette, you're spitting nonsense.
Tim: And you most definitely did not grow up in a circus. I've heard your backstory from Dick himself.
Jason: You had to be there.
#jason wrong timeline try again#this is so ooc I know#but you gotta do what you gotta do for the sake of comedy#they're all unreliable narrators by the way#jason todd#red hood#tim drake#red robin#damian wayne#robin#dick grayson#(mentioned)#dc incorrect quotes#incorrect batfamily quotes#incorrect batfam#batfamily#batfam#who do you think won the argument?
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Run.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
Summary: the reader tries to get Cregan to relax by whatever means necessary- however, running through Winterfell was not one she had in mind.
Warnings: foreplay, talks of sex, flirting
A/n: this was based on an ask!
Masterlist
......................................
For a man built as sturdy as the Wall itself, Cregan was surprisingly fast on his feet.
Y/n let out a squeal as she turned the corner, her feet sliding across the Winterfell floors.Â
She should have known this would happen. In fact, she had provoked it.
âŠ
The two were in the small library of Winterfell as Cregan poured all of his attention over various maps, scrolls, and books that laid across the large table.Â
Y/n sat not far away, curled up warmly on the sofa with a book in hand. When she looked up and noticed Cregan's furrowed brow and tense shoulders, she set her book aside and stood with a stretch. "You've always worried too much, my love."
His head shot up to her, "Hmm?"
She smiled at his lack of attention. "I said," she mused as she walked to the table, standing across from him, "You deserve a break from this strain."
His eyes studied her form as it near before a small chuckle escaped his lips, "The North does not rest."
"Aye, but its Warden should."
"I'll rest when this war is over."Â
She let out a sigh. This man could be far too stubborn when he wished to be. She then gained a mischievous thought, suppressing a grin. She leaned over the table onto her elbows, resting her face in her hands and giving him a look with her bright doe eyes, "And there's no way I can get you to pay attention to your dear wife?"
Cregan's resolve almost immediately dissipated. He cursed under his breath as he looked at her across the table. "You are my one weakness, pretty girl." He forced himself to take a deep breath, "But I cannot. Not now."
She chewed on the inside of her cheek when he looked back down to his paper. Perhaps it's in vain, but still. But she wasn't going to give up so quickly.Â
Cregan picked up a brand-new quill, holding it in his hand as he debated exactly what to write down.Â
She leaned across the table, pulling it from his grasp and into her own before he could dip it in the ink.
He looked up at her, his eyes bordering between amused and frustrated. He held his hand out, palm up, expecting the quill back.
She grinned, moving the shaft of the quill between her teeth, holding it horizontally. A playful look came across her eyes.
Cregan's eyes focused on her lips now, seemingly getting distracted. He quickly shook his head and pushed his hand further out, "Give me the quill."
Her grin grew around the quill. "No," her muffled voice came out around it.Â
"My sweet, sweet, lady wife-"
"-Play with me."
His eyes darkened at her words, his eyes moving between her eyes and her lips. His hand dropped down onto the desk, his breathing picking up.
He had froze, studying her like a predator would with his next meal.
She pushed herself off the desk, standing with a certain twinkle now that she had succeeded in her efforts.Â
He stood quickly, his eyes carefully studying her as he made very slow steps around the table.Â
When his body neared hers, she took steps backwards, making no move to take the quill from her lips.
His continued to stalk towards her with the same demanding look.
She gasped when her back hit the shelf behind her.Â
Cregan grinned widely and practically pressed his chest against her, his frame towering over her. "May I have my quill?" He asked darkly.
She shook her head as she looked up at him with wide eyes.
He leaned down to her as his lips neared hers. His voice dropped to a gruff whisper, "Shame I cannot kiss you with that quill in the way, don't you think?"
As their eyes met, it seemed they had suddenly considered the same idea.
Y/n's hand shot up and grabbed the quill from her lips before Cregan's hand moved.Â
She held it behind her back, trying desperately to keep it from him.Â
Cregan grinned and leaned even closer until their lips were brushing, "You enjoy tormenting your poor lord husband?"
She felt a shudder go down her spine. She forced it away. "I thought you wished to kiss your wife? Is that not what you wish for, my lord?"
"You know what I wish for," he continued.
"Oh?" She gulped lightly, "And what is that, pray tell?"
His eyes moved from her eyes down to her lips, before he leaned back just enough to trail down her entire body sensually. They trailed back up, resting on her lips for a while before his head tilted to the side just barely.
"Run."
"W⊠What?"
He looked into her eyes, a fire behind his own.
"Run."
She took in a shuttered breath.
He stepped just barely to the side, and his head gestured to the door.
She stepped out on a shaky leg, her hands still behind her back as she hid the quill from his view. She moved as if ready for him to pounce at any moment.Â
"You wanted to play, didn't you?" He mocks lowly. "Don't tell me you regret it now."
She moved to the door, never letting her eyes leave his form.Â
He suddenly faked a lunge towards her.
She gasped and jumped backwards, nearing falling. She caught her breath before a wide grin spread across her lips and a laugh from her throat.
He grinned too and stood straight, letting his facade crack for a moment, "Go on, little bird. Don't let the wolf catch you."
She let out a small laugh again as she grabbed the doorframe and looked at him one last time.Â
Then she bolted down the hall.
Cregan paced the room twice with a wide grin plastered across his face, giving her a head start.
More like a fighting chance.
âŠ
That's how they found themselves in the present.
After rounding the corner, she almost ran into one of the servants.Â
She yelled an apology but her feet did not stop.Â
Cregan muttered an apology as he passed the servant too.
The servant was used to it.
The entire castle was at this point.Â
The Lord and Lady of Winterfell were formidable against their enemies. Ruthless, and to be highly feared.Â
Except within the walls.Â
They were deep in love within the safety Winterfell offered.Â
Y/n continued down the hall, throwing the door open to run out to the courtyard, the quill still in her hand.Â
Though thrown off, Cregan did not stop, following behind her through the doors.Â
She ran to Lord Mormont, hiding behind him.
Mormont tried to turn to her, confused by all of it, but her hands on his shoulders prevented him from it. "M⊠My lady? Is something amiss?"
"No," she panted. "Hiding⊠hiding from Cregan."
Awfully hidden, Cregan found her and moved to Mormont. "Stand aside, my lord."
Mormont froze, unsure of what to do.Â
"Do not pester the man, my love." She called from behind the man.
Cregan tilted his head up to look over Mormont's shoulder to see her eyes. "Surrender then, wife."
"No."
Stark stepped to one side quickly, making her round to the other side.Â
Then he jerked to the opposite side of Mormont with both hands out, and she responded in tandem.Â
She giggled out as she took off again, narrowly missing Cregan's hand that brushed her dress on the way by.
Her steps quickened, taking her back into the castle.Â
Cregan wanted to curse, but he wouldn't. He was having more fun than he'd like to admit.Â
He took off again.
âŠ
Y/n moved into the library, throwing the quill onto the table like before and sitting on the sofa. She grabbed her book and opened it, trying to calm her panting breath.Â
Cregan quickly appeared in the doorway, his hands on the frame and a similar breathing pattern as hers escaping his throat. He tilted his head, amused. "You surrender? That easily?"
"Hmm?" She looked up at him, feigning innocence, "Surrender? What do you mean, husband?"
His hands dropped and he walked further into the room and stalked up to her.
She couldn't stop the adrenaline moving through her veins. She stood, still feigning her innocence. "I believe I'll retire, my lord. I've grown quite tired. Excuse me."
She brushed past him, surprised that he allowed her to. She smiled, believing she had truly bested him.Â
A playful growl came from his throat from behind her.
She froze.
The silence overtook the room for a moment. The tension and lust in the room filling the senses.Â
She decided to risk it, trying to run again.
But as she took the second step, large rough hands grabbed her waist tightly and she squealed when they picked her up into the air and against his chest.Â
"Going so soon?" He nipped at her ear.Â
She laughed, moving her hands to his that were now completely wrapped around her. Her head rested back against his shoulder, "I was hoping you'd join me."
"Oh?"
"Please."
He hummed, faking serious contemplation with her question. He set her down and spun her around to face him now.Â
She looked up into his eyes.
Softened, yes. But the lust was still there.Â
Suddenly, he leaned down, throwing her over his shoulder easily.Â
She squealed again, which pulled a hearty chuckle from the burly man.Â
"You let the wolf catch you, my love," he mused as he began to walk down the corridor.
"Perhaps," she huffed. "I did not wish to escape him."
"You're fond of the wolf, aren't you?"
She couldn't hold back her laugh as she relaxed herself and became dead weight on his shoulder, "Do not tell him so."
"Aye, I won't, little bird." He reached up and slapped her on the arse, laughing again when she gasped.Â
"Cregan!" She gawked.Â
"It's nothing the servants haven't seen before."
She wanted to be embarrassed as he passed by various staff and she tried not to look up at them as her lord husband continued to carry her across the castle.Â
She was caught by the wolf, indeed.
Good thing his jaws were rather gentle.
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Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayneÂ
#fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfiction#game of thrones x reader#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x y/n#house of the dragon#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones imagine#house of the dragon fanfic#cregan stark smut#cregan stark imagine#cregan stark fanfic#cregan fanfiction#hotd cregan
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heat lightning
pt 1
pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader
summary: you end up at the heart of the bau's latest case.
a/n: took way too long but here's more gideon reader! just as irritable as ever with some actual human emotions this time around. send help and prayers bc she's gonna need it. and before you ask there will in fact be some more parts to close up this case, i just have to write them first and it may take approximately 10 years. thank you for your consideration
wc: 4.1k
warning(s): reader still has daddy issues, still hates spence, and still argues w gideon the whole time. more angst! typical cm case stuff (a stalker that has taken vulnerable pics of reader) read w/ discretion if you are sensitive to those things. more drama and more tension and more not being a good time for anyone but me
âOn your right, pretty boy.âÂ
Spencer stops as Morgan rushes past him back to his desk, eyes trained on the hallway.Â
âWhy are you in such a hurry?â he complains. âI nearly spilled my coffee.â
âGideonâs daughter is here again,â he says. âDid you not feel the temperature drop five degrees?â
Spencer frowns. He opens his mouth to say something when he hears the telltale signs of your arrival: arguing.Â
ââso typical of you! I have to drop everything the moment you need me, but itâs like pulling teeth to get you to listen to me.â
Gideon turns the corner with you in tow. He has a duffle bag in one hand and a file in his other, his brow furrowed in frustration.Â
âThatâs because this is important,â he says.Â
âOh, and everything else I try to get you to be around for isnât?âÂ
âYou know that isnât what I meant,â Gideon says, keeping his voice level.Â
âThis is ridiculous,â you spit.Â
âItâs necessary,â he corrects. âIâm not going to play games with your safety.âÂ
âOh, yeah,â you mock. âBecause youâve always cared about that.âÂ
He just shakes his head. âIâm not debating this with you.â
âWhy? Because youâll realize that itâs ridiculous?â
You follow Gideon into his office and Spencer watches him close the blinds. The door slams shut, and though he can still hear the muffled argument he canât make anything out.
âOh, great,â Morgan says. âNow we canât even get Reid to read their lips.â
âI donât think we need it to know what theyâre talking about,â Elle says. âTheyâve been arguing since she was brought in.â
âOf course they have,â JJ says. âGideon sent Hotch to pick her up instead of doing it himself. She sees it as another slight.â
âShe sees everything as a slight,â Spencer says. âShe hates him.âÂ
âI donât blame her,â Morgan mutters. âNot when we only found out about her last month.âÂ
âSurely this isnât helping with anything,â JJ says wryly.Â
Elle shrugs. âDoesnât matter. Sometimes pointless arguing makes you feel better, even when youâre in the wrong.âÂ
âThatâs enough, agents.â Spencerâs attentionâalong with everyone elseâsâsnaps to the top of the bullpen to see Hotch holding a file with the same expression as always. âI need you all in the conference room.âÂ
âDoes it have anything to do with that?â Morgan asks, tilting his head towards Gideonâs office.Â
âYouâll find out,â he says. Hotch starts walking to the conference room, the conversation clearly over.Â
JJ sighs as she stands up and grabs the files on her desk. âIâll get Penelope. The rest of you try not to gossip too much.âÂ
She goes off, and the others disperse back to their desk to finish up some last-minute things before the case takes them away. Spencer canât tear his eyes away from Gideonâs office, even though heâs not getting anything.Â
All he can think about is the last time you were here, when he got caught in the middle of your argument with Gideonâyour dad, which was still a little weirdâand he canât help but feel guilty.Â
Gideon is a father figure to him, sure, but it isnât that difficult to end up with that dynamic when Spencerâs the youngest on the team. And he can go into everything about his father leaving and the psychology of that, but it doesnât matter. Gideon treated him like a son when he had a daughter all along that heâd been neglecting.Â
For all Spencer knows, it is his fault.Â
âReid,â Elle says, snapping him out of his thoughts, âyou coming?â
âYeah,â he says, nodding far too many times as he catches up to her in a few quick strides. âSorry.â
âNo need,â she remarks. âGideonâs kid was all anyone could talk about when she first showed up here. This is only gonna make things worse.â
âHe canât really be that bad of a dad,â Spencer says, âright?â
âAll I know is that having a parent in the force rarely ends well,â Elle murmurs. She opens the door to the conference room and looks at him. âWe canât be too hard on her when we probably see Gideon more than she does.â
Spencer recalls his meeting with you, how he barely got a word in edgewise while you spent the whole time arguing with someone half the office viewed as immovable.Â
âYeah,â he says distantly. âI donât think thatâll be a problem.â
-
âWhy? Because youâll realize that itâs ridiculous?âÂ
Your dad shuts the blinds on all the windows in his office, then closes the door behind you. He sets your duffle down on the floor then looks at you, that infuriatingly even expression still unchanged.
âItâs not ridiculous,â he says. âSit down and lower your voice, please. We have some things to talk about.âÂ
âI gathered that when you sent your guy to pick me up,â you say, crossing your arms as he walks over to his desk. âCouldnât even do it yourself?âÂ
âAaron Hotchner is the chief of this unit and one of the most accomplished agents here,â he says. âHe lives closer to you than I do, and I asked him to pick you up on his way in because I knew you would be safe with him. Sit down, please.âÂ
âThere it is again. My safety.â You remain standing. âTell me what this is about. Iâm missing work right nowâ I know you can understand that, at least.âÂ
He lets out a sigh as he says your name and looks at you. âCan we get through this without any arguments for once?âÂ
âThat depends. Are you going to treat me like your daughter or an inconvenience?âÂ
âYouâre my daughter, I love you, and your life is in danger,â he says evenly.Â
You open your mouth to retort, but your dad opens the file in his hands and sets it down on the other side of the desk. You can see from your position that theyâre photos, but your curiosity ultimately wins out. You walk over to get a closer look, and any words die in your throat as you pick up the first photo.Â
A photo of you.Â
You pick up the next one, only to see itâs another picture of you. At least ten photos are tucked away in the file, and theyâre all of you. Taken outside your work, at your apartment, on your morning runâ god, thereâs even one taken through the window of your bedroom, half-naked in a towel after a shower.Â
You fall silently into the chair, your heart hammering inside your chest as your eyes dart between all of the photos. You want to crawl out of your skin.Â
âWhat the fuck is this?â you breathe.Â
âThe heart of our newest case,â your dad says. âIt appears that you have a stalker.âÂ
âYeah,â you whisper, eyes still glued to your oblivious self, âI would fucking think so.â
âThese photos were dropped off at my door this morning,â he says, and he flips to the next section of the file, âwith that note.â
The erratic handwriting instantly stands out to you as you pick the photocopy up, the lump in your throat growing with every word you read.Â
such a pretty little thing. I wonder if she knows it.
you donât care about her, but I do. sheâs just like all the rest of us, everyone that youâve ruined.
think about your priorities, agent gideon. Iâll be watching. Â
âWhat the fuck is this?â you repeat. Blood pounds in your skull as a distant chill creeps down your spine. âIâ Iâm one of your cases now?âÂ
âWeâre not sure yet,â he admits. âThese only appeared yesterday, but from the looks of it, the unsub has been watching you for a while. Can you pinpoint when any of these photos were taken?Â
You stare at him. âSome psycho has been stalking me for a while?âÂ
Your dad says your name again, slightly strained. âPlease. I know this is difficult to think about, but figuring out a time frame would help us.âÂ
âDifficult,â you scoff. âYeah, thatâs one way to put it.âÂ
But it doesnât have the bite your words usually hold. For once, you donât think youâre mad at your dad. You think youâre terrified.Â
â...Yeah,â you finally murmur, and you pick up one of the photos. âI thrifted a mirror a month ago, and this one doesnât have it.â
Your dad nods, and he picks up two others. âNeither do these.âÂ
âSo this has been going on for at least a month,â you say bitterly. âGreat.â
Your dad says your name, quieter this time, and when you finally look at him his eyes have softened.Â
âWeâre going to figure this out,â he says. âThis is a threat against an FBI agentâs family, and it will be treated accordingly. Forensics is doing tests on all the original copies to try and find a lead. The whole BAU will be on your caseâI will be on it, and we wonât rest until we find whoeverâs doing this.âÂ
âYeah,â you say numbly. âYou sure thatâll help? Because it looks like all this is happening because Iâm your daughter.âÂ
âI know this is scary,â he says. âThis⊠this is nothing like youâve ever dealt with before. You shouldnât have to deal with it. But you have to trust my team. We know what weâre doing.âÂ
âOf course you know what youâre doing,â you say. âYouâre always here.âÂ
Your words have no bite behind them, more of an instinct as you grab your purse from the ground. You can feel the pinpricks of incoming tears, and you refuse to cry in front of your dad.Â
âIâ I need a minute,â you say. âThis is all justââÂ
âI understand,â he says. âJust donât go far. Stay on this floor.â
You nod and start towards the door, but you pause right before you reach it. Your mouth opens as you try to think of something to say, but it falls shut just as quickly. You shake your head as you reach for the door handle, but before you get the chance, it swings open and youâre met with a familiar face.Â
Spencer Reid, the kid your dad likes more than you. Heâs nothing less than surprised to see you, from his stumbled step back, the slightly wide eyes, his hand poised to knock on the door.Â
A mumbled apology falls from your lips as you move around him, and you can still feel his eyes on you as you speed off. You wonder what ideas he and the rest of the BAU have drawn up about you since your last visit to the office.Â
You donât really care.Â
True to your word, you donât go farâjust to the bathroom. Thankfully itâs close, because the moment you make it to one of the stalls, knees stinging as you fall to the tiled floor, you vomit.Â
By the time youâve expelled the contents of your stomach, it feels just as empty as the rest of you. You stare at the wall, breathing slightly harried and skin warm to the touch, and you resist the urge to punch it.Â
You have a stalker. Someone has been watching you for a monthâat least a month, maybe longerâand you had no fucking clue, and now your only decent hope lies with your dad and his team.Â
Normally, you wrote off anything depending on your dad as fruitless, but this involved the thing he loved more than anything in the world: his job.Â
You huff a wry laugh at the thought. This wouldnât get solved because it concerned you, it would get solved because it concerned his job.Â
You stand up and walk over to the sink. You rinse your mouth, then just stare at yourself in the mirror.Â
Itâ it feels strange. Looking at yourself like this, knowing someone has beenâstill isâwatching you.Â
You recall their words.Â
Pretty little thing.Â
You donât care about her, but I do.Â
A chill crawls up your spine. You canât shake the dread settling all over you.Â
What the fuck are you going to do?
You have to trust your dad, but youâve never trusted your dad. God, heâs not even really your dad. Heâs Senior Supervisory Special Agent Jason Gideon, nothing moreâthe estranged kid is an unfortunate side effect of the estranged wife.
You let out another breathy laugh. Would he even care if this psycho actually ends up killing you?Â
You stand there for another couple minutes, time idling in the background as you continue to stare at the mirror.Â
You havenât cried, at least. Thatâs certainly something.
The door opens ever so slightly and someone says your name. Your eyes flick to the mirror almost immediately as your body tenses, and you recognize her as one of the BAUâs agents. Sheâs pretty and blonde with sympathetic eyes, and you know theyâve been briefed on your situation.Â
If you have to deal with an office of pitying looks, you think you might lose your mind.Â
âAre you alright?â she asks softly.Â
âJust peachy,â you mumble. âMy dad ask you to check up on me?âÂ
She nods. âYou can imagine why Gideon is a bit high strung at the moment.âÂ
âIâm fine,â you repeat. âI just⊠needed a second.âÂ
âI understand,â she murmurs. âDo you still need some time?âÂ
âWhat do you need?âÂ
âGideon wants to talk to you. Itâs best if he explains it.âÂ
You huff a laugh and shake your head. âFine. Lead the way, AgentâŠâÂ
âJareau,â she supplies. âBut call me JJ, please.âÂ
In lieu of a response, you walk over to her. She offers a thin smile and holds the door for you, then falls into step with you. A moment of silence passes before she speaks up.Â
âWeâre going to figure this out,â JJ says. âYour dad is one of the best to walk through these doors. If anyone can solve this, he can.âÂ
âSo I keep hearing,â you murmur.Â
-
Spencer watches you hurry off with wide eyes, and it takes a few seconds for him to snap out of it. Heâs less surprised by your pace, and more surprised that you actually apologized for bumping into him.Â
âReid,â Gideon speaks up, and his attention snaps back over to his superior. âWhat do you need?âÂ
âIs she okay?â he asks instead. He canât help itâafter what Hotch just told all of them, heâs worried about you.Â
Gideon gathers the photos back into the file then stands up. âOur job is to make sure she will be.â
âHotch briefed us,â he says, and his eyes darted back to the doorway almost on instinct. âThisâ this is crazy. We just found out about her last month, and some guyâs been after her for longer?âÂ
âWhat this is is one of my enemies targeting my daughter because theyâre too much of a coward to go after me,â Gideon says evenly. âWe just have to figure out which one before they escalate.â
âHow do you know?â he asks.Â
âWhat you said is true,â he admits. âHardly anyone knows I have a daughter. Even fewer would know where she lives. Someone who wants to hurt me would have incentive to discover both.âÂ
âSo we look into unsubs youâve put away that have been released,â Spencer says. âOr ones that are still in, but have family that might be bitter.â
âExactly,â Gideon nods. âBut I have to ask something of you, Reid.â
He frowns. âAnything.â
âWeâre working on getting a safe house for my daughter,â Gideon says. âI need you to stay there with her.âÂ
Somehow, his frown deepens. âWhat?â
âI need to know sheâs with someone I can trust,â he says. âThereâs someone after her, and we donât know whoâthat means we need to keep this circle tight.â
âSo you want me to be her bodyguard?â Spencer marvels. âDo you remember that you had to waive all my physical tests?â
âLess of a bodyguard,â he says. âMore just⊠keeping her company. Making sure sheâs alrightâmentally as much as physically.â
âWhy am I the one that has to keep an eye on her?â Spencer asks. âShe hates me!âÂ
âDonât take it personally,â Gideon says. âShe hates a lot of things.âÂ
âBut it is personal,â Spencer insists. âShe hates me because she thinks you like me more than her.âÂ
Gideon doesnât seem phased at the comment. âSheâs opinionated, but sheâs harmless. And right now, I need to know that sheâs with someone I can trust.â
âIâ I still donât think itâs a good idea.â
âPlease, Reid.â Gideon leans forward, and thereâs an uncharacteristic vulnerability in his eyes. "If I'm going to be on this case, I need to know that she's safe. I won't be able to focus otherwise."
Spencer wasnât going to lieâhe genuinely thought it was a bad idea. But⊠Gideon said he trusted him. And this was his daughterâthey mightâve argued, but they still cared about each other. if he could keep Lila Archer safe, he could keep you safe.Â
ââŠOkay,â he finally concedes. âOkay.â
Gideon nods, and he watches the change in his eyes, the slightest bit of tension leaving his shoulders. âThank you.â
âJust⊠make sure there are two bedrooms,â Spencer says. âI donât need her to kill me one day in.â
At that, he cracks a rare smile. Spencer is thankful for it, that he can bring even the smallest amount of levity to Gideonâs life right now.Â
âIâll keep that in mind.â
-
âYouâve got to be kidding me.â
Your dad says your name, but you hardly let him finish.Â
âNo! First I find out I have a stalker, then my whole lifeâs going to be uprooted until you find them, and now I have to be stuck with boy genius?â
âYou know, weâre about the same ageââ
âDo you ever stop talking?â you cry, whirling on Spencer.
âI actually donât talk that much when Iâm around you,â Spencer says, his brows creasing. âThis is the third time Iâve met you, and Iâve only said nine sentences across those meetings. Thirteen, if you count all of these too.â
You let out a strained laugh as you shake your head, trying to blink back tears. âThis is fucking unbelievable. I know heâs practically your son, but this is justââ
âA safety precaution,â your dad interrupts. âDoctor Spencer Reid is another one of the BAUâs finest agents, and he is fully qualified to keep you safe.â
âHe looks like a strong breeze could snap him in half.â
âThis is not a joke,â your dad says sternly. âNone of this is a joke. Your life is in dangerâyou have a stalker that has been watching your every move for at least a month, and we have no idea what their next move will be. Doctor Reid is more experienced than you in every facet of this, and I am entrusting him to your care. I respect him immensely, and you will do so as well.â
You donât even look at Spencer, quiet rage simmering beneath the surface as you stare at your father.
âYou really donât get it,â you murmur. âDo you?â
âThe only thing to get is that your life is in increasing danger with every moment you spend pushing against me,â your dad says, and he stands up. âGet your purse. Reid, get her duffle. Weâre leaving.â
He leaves before you get the chance to do anythingâyou assume heâs finally tired of you.Â
You just shake your head and pick up your purse, and Spencer clears his throat as he reaches for your duffle bag. You wonder if it even has anything usefulâAaron Hotchner was the one who packed it.Â
ââŠSo,â Spencer says. âI guess weâre gonna be roommates for a while.â
You huff in fully unveiled annoyance, and you push past him on your way out.Â
âGreat,â he mutters to himself as he follows you. âSo this is what Gideonâs trust earns me.âÂ
It doesnât take him too long to catch up to you, despite the unnecessary quick pace youâre taking. You bypass the elevator and head towards the stairwell, and Spencer catches the door before itâs able to slam on him.Â
He says your name, but you just shake your head.Â
âIf weâre gonna be stuck together until this is over, Iâd prefer silence.âÂ
âI donât really do silence,â Spencer says.Â
âIâm sure thereâll be plenty of books for you to read in whatever jail cell they throw me in.âÂ
âItâs actually going to be a pretty nice safe house,â he starts, throwing his hand up against the wall to catch himself from running into it as he turns, because god you are moving fast, âGideon picked it out himself.âÂ
âOh, then itâll definitely be a jail cell,â you mock. âItâs not like he knows anything about me, so heâll probably think that itâs perfect.âÂ
Spencer frowns. âCut him some slack. This is all just as hard on him as it is on you.âÂ
You come to a sudden stop, whirling around to face him, and Spencer has to reel to the side to prevent himself from running into you. Had he not already been pressed up against the wall, he would have moved back further, what with the fire blazing in your eyes.Â
âIâm not going to cut him any slack,â you spit. âThis is the most time Iâve gotten to spend with my dad in months, and itâs only because some creep is stalking me to get back at him. The only reason Iâm in this at all is because of his job that he cares about more than me, and now heâs sticking me with the guy that he wishes was his kid. So no, Doctor ReidâIâm not going to cut him any slack.âÂ
Youâre already off on your way again before Spencer even has time to blink, and youâve made it down the whole last flight by the time he pushes himself back up.Â
He takes the steps three at a time to catch up to you, and he once again barely manages to catch the door before it slams on him. He calls your name, finally managing to fall into step with you right before you reach Gideon. He, like a normal person, deigned to take the elevator.Â
âYou havenât started arguing already,â he says, passing a glance at Spencer, âhave you?âÂ
âWhat do you think?â you ask, your arms crossed.Â
âI think youâre giving him a hard time that you usually reserve for me,â he says. âCut him some slack.âÂ
Your jaw clenches. âIâve been getting a lot of that lately. Save the profiling for my stalker, will you?â Â
âThereâs plenty of profiling to go around,â Gideon says. âYou two wait hereâI need to confirm the safe house location before we head out.âÂ
âCan we stop by my place before we go?â Spencer asks. âI need to pick up some things.âÂ
âYou have a go bag, donât you?âÂ
âYeah, but Iâ I wasnât exactly prepared for this sort of thing when I came in today.âÂ
âYouâll be fine,â Gideon says. He walks off before Spencer can protest, and he sighs.Â
You lean against the wall, your arms crossed with your purse hanging off your shoulder, and for once you donât pass judgment on hisâadmittedly smallâplight.Â
âI changed my mind,â Spencer speaks up, deciding to try and break the remarkably high amount of tension that had built up in such a short time, and your eyebrows rise as you glance at him.Â
âAbout what?âÂ
âIâ I think I can do silence,â he says. âTemporarily.âÂ
You huff a laugh. âReally?âÂ
âI donât really want to annoy you while weâre stuck together in an undisclosed location,â he says. âI donât know what youâre capable of.âÂ
And for the first time since Spencer has met you, you actually smile. Itâs the smallest thing, just a slight tilt of your lips thatâs more akin to Hotchâs moments of levity than anything, but itâs a smile.Â
â...Good choice,â you say. It feels like a joke, but Spencer isnât sure.Â
He smiles anyway. You meet his eyes, and for a moment, youâre just another girl. Someone that Spencer could imagine himself stealing glances at in a lecture hall, a regular at his favorite coffee shop that he falls for over the course of an especially cold winter, someone he meets on a night out with the team that he ends up talking to all night.Â
You really do have pretty eyes.Â
And then your gaze hardens, darts away from him, and Spencer sees Gideon coming back in his peripherals. The moment fractures.Â
Youâre not just a girl. Youâre Gideonâs daughter, youâre in a remarkable amount of danger, and lest he forget, you do in fact hate him.Â
Spencer lets out another short sigh.Â
At least this safe house wonât have a pool.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds angst#x reader#sadie writes
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Just on a whim, because I know that Alcibiades is one of the weirdest and funniest characters in ancient Greek history, I asked ChatGPT "What's the weirdest thing Alcibiades ever did?"
ChatGPT came back with the details of something Alcibiades (henceforth referred to as 'Alci' so I don't have to keep typing it out) was accused of, but acquitted of.
When I pointed out that he had been acquitted and may not have actually done this thing, Chat GPT apologised and said, "yes, he was acquitted", and then went on to tell me that, nonetheless, the event was significant because it made Alci flee the city.
Alci did not flee the city, he was sent away on a military expedition, which was exactly what he'd wanted and asked for. When I pointed that out, ChatGPT apologised again for being wrong.
I asked again for weird things he might actually have done, and was told one version of a story I've heard before about how Alci stole some stuff from a friend. ChatGPT's version was different from what I'd heard, though, so I mentioned that, and only then did ChatGPT acknowledge that there were different versions of the story. As part of its apology and correction, ChatGPT said that it did not always have access to all information - but then proceeded to provide details of the version of the story I'd heard before, showing that it did, in fact, have access to that information.
I asked again, what is the weirdest thing Alcibiades ever did? ChatGPT gave me an answer, which was a story I'd never heard before, so I asked for a source. ChatGPT told me it was in Plutarch's Lives, and I presumed it was in his Life of Alcibiades, so that's where I looked. When I said I couldn't find it there, ChatGPT told me, sorry for not being specific, it was actually in Plutarch's Life of Nicias. So I went and read Plutarch's Life of Nicias and couldn't find it.
So I told ChatGPT that I couldn't find the story in that book, could it please be more specific? What I was hoping for was a chapter or page number or something, I just presumed I'd missed it.
ChatGPT came back with "no, actually it's not in that book, it may be a later invention, there is no concrete evidence for this story."
TL;DR: ChatGPT cannot be trusted. Even when it does give you a source, it can be wrong. It has no capacity to evaluate the accuracy or likely accuracy of the information it gives you. It will present you with wrong or debatable information and give you absolutely no indication that it may not be correct, or that other versions or interpretations are possible.
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jealousy, jealousy
Ëâ§ââ The Vees ââșËłâ§àŒ
warnings: violence, off page murdah, suggestive themes, possessive behavior
18+ only
watch out for red flags in real life and read at your own discretion âĄ
ÊâąÌ«ÍĄâąÊâąÌ«ÍĄâąÊâąÌ«ÍĄâąÊâąÌ«ÍĄâąÊâąÌ«ÍĄâąÊâąÌ«ÍĄâąÊâąÌ«ÍĄâąÊâąÌ«ÍĄâąÊâąÌ«ÍĄâąÊâąÌ«ÍĄâąÊâąÌ«ÍĄâąÊâąÌ«ÍĄâąÊ
Ëâ§ââ Vox ââșËłâ§àŒ
âą The least jealous of the three, but that doesnât say much, does it?
âą Running an enterprise goes hand in hand with being an Overlord. Vox prides himself on being everywhere at once but he knows his limits. If wants to keep this cushy life he built, and you safe, he canât spread himself too thin. That means occasionally cutting back on distractions
âą So go out, have your funâ playtoys even! Heâs not worried. Vox has literal eyes on you 24/7, access to your phone and all its contents, your lifeline is constantly synced to his peripherals. Really! Heâs not worried!
âą The problem arises when Vox feels threatened or undermined. If heâs in the same room, no one should even be looking at you! And if some sorry soul dared to touch you!? Thatâd be the last time they have hands
âą âIâve been looking for you!â He says from behind as his claws creep around your shoulders. Heâll ignore the Sinner, bringing your attention to him as security drags them away. You donât need to know how jealous he can get
Ëâ§ââ Velvette ââșËłâ§àŒ
âą Sharing, shockingly, is not in her vocabulary! Not outfits, not credit, not the spotlight and fucking especially not you
âą Youâre her favorite project, she so lovingly calls you, which is a giant compliment. She dresses you every day so ifâ for some hellish reasonâ you left her side, she knows she has a visual claim on you. Vel quickly snaps and posts a pic of the two of you together before you go, just to remind her audience the fact youâre spoken for! Donât you feel safe? And stylish?
âą Unlike her partners, Velvette can multitask so having you around the studio can be an everyday treat! Unfortunately she has to split her focus, occasionally crashing the conversation to a stop so she can snap at someone
âą Her eyes are sharp, they pick up on every little detail and seldom miss a thing. No one in her workshop would even think about approaching you, unless Vel asked, so it was all too easy to spot that new-nobody-model break his neck to check you out
âą Youâve seen Velvette reduce even the oldest, most thick skinned to a puddle of piss in the street with her words. She doesnât give anyone the chance to touch whatâs hers. Sheâs shameless and loud, stopping the inappropriate behavior from across the room if she has to, âOy! You! Youâre fuckinâ fired, get the fuck out of here âfore I set you on fire!â
âą As they run for the elevator, she debates if the clothes theyâre wearing are worth keeping or not. With a glowing finger she swipes them off the model anyways, stripping them of her brand⊠and their dignity
âą Velvette marks the occasion with a kiss to your cheek, stained with black lipstick, and another posted picture with a clever caption
Ëâ§ââ Valentino ââșËłâ§àŒ
âą Val invented jealousy
âą He handles it as well as everyone expects
âą Itâs not limited to you, either! Business partners, employees, friends (if he has any left), play things, heâll be up and arms about anything that belongs to him. Thereâs only one way to cut the cord tethered to him, and heâs always the one to decide how and when
âą Val may have a lot of toys but youâre not one of them. Youâre specialâ precious, actually!
âą He has tabs on you at all times. Tracker in your phone, jewelry with his name on it, a bodyguard if heâs feeling particularly paranoid that day!
âą Val also loves showing you off. Love bites are his favorite mark of ownership, heâll show off wherever is most recent so be prepared to swat his hands away. Everyone can look, but only he can touch. He has four hands, one of them is on you at all times in public
âą No one should manage to get in spitting distance of youâ but if somehow they did and had the gall to talk to you⊠heâll break their nose on the spot. Heâd make quicker work with a gun, but then heâd get blood on you and he doesnât want that
âą âYouâre so fuckinâ hot tonight, baby, look how clumsy youâve made this idiot!â Val cackles, poorly masking his rage, âSeriously, I think youâre trying to get me riled up.â You open your mouth to deny it but he laughs again, carefully pulling you closer with both pairs of arms, âIâm only teasing!â
âą Looming over you, Val shoots said idiot a murderous glare that gives them a five second head start. Heâs yet to lose this game of chase. He always returns, clean as a crappy soap ad, to shower you in gifts in lieu of an apology for disappearing
#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel headcanon#the vees#the vees x reader#vox headcanons#vox imagine#vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel velvette#velvette x reader#velvette headanons#velvette imagine#valentino x reader#hazbin hotel valentino#valentino imagine#theyâre all messy but i love them#except val he knows what he did
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34 + 35 âĄ
older bf!toji fushiguro x fem!reader
you tell toji you can handle a 69, and he wants you to prove it to him.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, 69ing, oral sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, light praise/degradation
âGet to it, doll. You said you could do it,â your boyfriend teases from beneath you.
Tojiâs hand meets your ass hard, a clear smack ringing throughout the room. You nearly topple over onto him from the jolt but stabilize yourself before you crash. Your hands grab onto his hips as you glance down at his toned body.
Itâs where you were heading anyways, so you relax your arms and lower yourself. Your abdomen rests flush against his. Your face hovers a few inches from his cock. It was already hard, the tip an even brighter red against the pale skin of his pelvis. Itâd been in your mouth before countless times, but never while he also had his face buried between your legs.
âCâmon. You wanted a proper 69, didnât ya? Gotta put it in your mouth then, sweet thing,â he coos.
His own hands currently ghosted up and down the back of your thighs, leaving chills in their wake. He teasingly nips and kisses at the skin leading up to your center. Your anticipation builds, and you know you do in fact need to get to it. It was your idea after all. Heâd just gotten back from a bounty, one he actually collected successfully. He was in a better mood than normal, just wanted you to sit on his face as a treat.
You couldnât just be happy with that generous offer. Too many comments about how hard he was ended up with the two of you debating whether or not you could handle 69ing. You knew you couldnât. You went dumb with his cock in your mouth while on your knees with nothing distracting you. But you couldn't just let him be right all the time, that was no fun.
Now youâre here though. Your fingers curl around the base of his cock tentatively as you spit a decent amount of saliva onto the head. You watch it dribble down the veiny shaft. It takes a little to go down the full length to your fingers, but as soon as it does, you start stroking. Up and down, your hand squeezes gently as you get his dick slippery.
âDaddyâs not gonna start till I feel those pretty lips wrapped around me,â he whispers, his way of saying stop wasting time while in a good mood.
Parting your lips, you take it just like he taught you to. Just like he likes it. You suckle the tip deeper and bob your head, swirling your tongue and flicking it against the little ridge. His chest deflates under you as he lets out a pleasured sigh.
It doesnât take him long to return the favor though. His tongue darts out and laps at your clit. His large hands hold your hips firmly in place. There was no squirming away from this. Each breath gave him a hit of your heady scent.Â
For him, this was heaven. He couldnât believe he hadnât tried this with you sooner. He got to have that precious little mouth on his cock while devouring his baby like she was the finest meal on earth.
You, on the other hand, werenât faring as well. You were already shuddering from the sensations. Each stripe he licked over your cunt, each swipe against your swollen bud made you whine and just wanna melt on top of him.
You keep trying though. You suck more of him into your mouth, stroking the part of him you arenât ready for yet. Spit leaks from your mouth and coats even more of his length which pulses in your mouth. The weight of it on your tongue has your mind beginning to swirl. Precum oozes from the head and coats your tongue.
âDaddyâŠâ you whine, but it comes out garbled because of the dick in your mouth.
He chuckles and gives you another nice slap on the ass. âThatâs right, baby. Youâre takinâ daddy so good, makinâ me proud,â he mutters into your pussy.
He holds you down tighter, pressing your cunt right up close to his face. His tongue laves at your sensitive bundle of nerves, twirling around it, teasing it with tiny flitting motions and then overwhelming you with a harsh suck. Your whimpers get louder while your hand slows down on his cock.
You gotta make him proud though. You force yourself to take more, lodging him as far in your throat as you can get him. He hears the little gag that comes from you as you try to get your mouth all the way around his shaft. His lips morph into a smirk against your center. He continues making out with your cunt like heâs trying to take in every last drop of you.
As he gets sloppier, going from precise and calculated to messy and open-mouthed, you start to lose it a bit. Your hands shake, and you have to grip his hips to keep yourself somewhat steady. You keep sucking his cock, hollowing your cheeks and rhythmically rising and falling. More needy whimpers fall from your lips. You try to rock your hips, but heâs got a good grip on âem.
âIt's getting harder, isnât it baby?â he taunts. His hand slithers between your legs to rub at your puffy clit a little bit, drawing an even louder noise from you. âNow youâre seeing why daddy just wanted to play with you first.â
âI- Iâm fineâŠâ you stammer out. Itâs an obvious lie, but you try to maintain the facade.
âYou are? Still wanna act like a big girl, huh?â he teases.
His mouth takes over again. Youâre left shivering with your eyes screwed shut. You inhale sharply before trying to return to your task. You go back to stroking him. Your hand twists as it goes, brushing over the head and smearing the sticky, white droplets over the length.
But as soon as his hand comes back and pinches your clit, you squeal and your efforts fail. Your head drops to his pelvis where your cheek squishes against his warm skin. He only wishes he could see your face because he knows the way your lips are puffing out into that cute pout. Your hips rut on instinct, and he has to lock them in place with a tighter hold.
âStay still, babydoll. Seems like youâre getting a little distracted,â he murmurs before reattaching his lips to your pussy.
You moan loudly but scoot your head a little closer.Â
âIâm not, daddy,â you whimper. Your tongue sticks out to lap at his balls. You suckle one into your mouth, but all he does is laugh.
He nuzzles further between your legs, speeding up the motions of his tongue. Your legs start to quiver and tense up. They close around his head, and he knows whatâs coming.
âLet it out,â he grunts.
Your back arches and your nails dig into his flesh. You take your mouth off him all together and turn your head against his thigh to hide the expressions your features scrunch into. You groan against him, your hips bucking and jerking with each wave of euphoria.Â
He lets you ride it out, but once you come down, he doesnât stop. You claw at his legs, trying to crawl away and seek refuge between his huge thighs. He pulls you back into place though and kneads your ass cheeks soothingly.
âNot gonna happen, little girl. Not letting you go until you get me to cum at least once,â he says. With that, heâs back to using his mouth for more important things.
âDaddy!â you whine. Normally, that would be easy, but you couldnât even do it the first time around and now you had overstimulation frying your nerves.
Heâs loud between your thighs, wet, sensual noises echoing from the top of the bed where his head rests. You try to match and slurp around his shaft, but itâs difficult when youâre so shaky and it feels like your insides are melting.
Youâre so whiny too. Your head drops back to its place next to his dick as you lazily jerk him off.
He keeps going and brings you to another high minutes later. You mewl even louder for him and drop his cock, letting it fall against your face and rest on your cheek. Your eyes flutter as the ecstasy takes over for a moment.
âNot so easy is it, baby?â he croons, âItâs so much easier just letting daddy take care of you, huh?â
âMhm,â you hum with a dizzy nod.
He places a tender kiss on your clit and chuckles as he sees you clench around nothing. This time he does give you a small break. You both knew he could reduce you to a puddle of sobs and moans if he so desired, but he wanted to give you a little chance.
And you donât take it for granted. You lift your head again. Your cheek feels numb from being pressed to his hip for a while. As the blood circulates through it again, you return your lips to the tip of his cock. You spit down on it for the second time tonight and take it into the warm embrace of your mouth.
Your sucking starts off languid. He was still lapping at your cunt, but not with the dedication he had previously. He kept you simmering in pleasure but held off the real heat of bliss for now. Little sounds of delight still come from you every so often, but they're muffled around his girth.
You start increasing the speed of your head and tighten the suction of your mouth a bit. Itâs his turn to let his head fall back. His thumb weakly rubs up and down your pussy while he enjoys the feeling of you sucking him off.
âFuck, dolly,â he groans, âThatâs it. Such a good girl.â
You suck more, feeling like you can actually do this. Youâre drooling all over his cock, eyes going glossy like they always did when you had nothing on the brain but Toji. Your lips smack around the tip haphazardly before you take it down your throat again. You hold your breath for a moment, letting him enjoy your throat. You then rise up again before bobbing your head with the most fervor you can muster.
His hips twitch a bit, and he chokes out some moans against your dripping cunt. He starts increasing the pressure of his mouth, wanting to make you cum once more with him. Your hips tremble, but youâre determined. If you didnât get it now, you figured youâd be spending the night with his head between your thighs.
âYouâre gonna make daddy cum, doll. Fuck,â he mutters, âActinâ like a perfect slut just for me.â
You lick his cock from the base to the tip, flattening your tongue and trying to hit every sensitive spot he had. His fingers dig into the plump of your ass more. You could feel little marks forming on your skin, but they only spurred you on.
âThatâs my little girl. Thatâs what that mouth was made for,â he breathes.
Whimpering and twitching, you take him as deep as you can again.
âOh fuck,â he grunts. His hips snap up a bit as he shoots his load down your throat. You can practically feel the rumbling of his groans against your tummy. They rise in his chest and seep out against your entrance as he continues fucking his tongue into you. You take in deep breaths through your nose as he works you to one more release. Itâs not as intense as the first two, but the dull pleasure is still one of the best feelings youâve experienced.Â
You swallow every drop of cum he gives you before pulling off him for the final time. A string of saliva still connects you with his shiny tip as your head collapses onto him.
He takes a deep breath before lifting you up and spinning you around like itâs nothing. Your head now rests against his chest where you can listen to the thundering of his heart. He hums with satisfaction and rubs his hand up and down your back.
âDid I do good, daddy?â you mumble.
He looks down at you and the slow way you blink when youâve cum a few times.
âYeah, babydoll. You did as much as you could,â he says with a little smirk.
You pop your head up at the playful jab. âI tried. Itâs not my fault youâre like⊠so good at that,â you say and shoot him a look.
âSure, sure. I guess weâll just have to keep practicing till you get better at it, hm?â he teases.
You nod before leaning in and kissing him. The both of you part your lips to deepen the exchange, tasting one another in the otherâs mouth.
#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro imagine#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#jjk imagines#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#toji x reader
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actually I do want to talk about Sally Jackson a tad more because one criticism I've been hearing about her book counterpart more recently is "book Sally is one-dimensional: the perfect mother with no flaws" and that just has me biting my cheek because one part of her book counterpart that I always thought was ripe with discussion and didn't make it to the show is that Sally states that it was selfish of her to keep Percy close. It's one of the last things she says to him before she's "killed" by the minotaur.
And there's so much that we don't know about Sally because we view her from Percy's eyes. From his perspective we know that she's exceedingly kind, she never raises her voice to him or even Gabe, and she endured a horrible and abusive relationship to protect her son from monsters (of a different kind).
But there are things we can piece together from the text: Sally has known about CHB for a long time, apparently since before Percy was even born because Poseidon told her he wanted to send Percy there; she was told that it was a mistake for her to keep Percy close - who told her that, we're not sure, she only uses the phrase they; she's been in contact with Grover through out the school year; she knows that she can't cross the camp boundary line, which means either Grover or someone else (Chiron? Poseidon?) told her that, and that she understood that there was place that Percy would be safe from monsters.
And all of these little details are so interesting because it does make you wonder just how much she did or didn't know. Was her self assessment right? Was it selfish of her to keep Percy close?
On one hand, she kept him close because she loved him, alongside the fear that if she sent him to camp, she would be saying goodbye for good -- so is it even fair to call the act of keeping him close selfish? Or perhaps, much like Chiron, she assumed keeping Percy in the dark would be safer?
But on the other hand, Percy had been attracting monsters all his childhood, she understood camp was a safe place from monsters, and she had apparently been told explicitly that it was a mistake for her to keep him close.
And then adding in the factors of: Percy is her only family in the entire world, she's been suffering with Gabe for years, sacrificing so much in order to keep Percy safe when he's at home... but even that has a touch of sad irony because when we meet Percy in tlt, its at point when he's not really home at all -- he's been regularly sent off to boarding schools, so much so that he's internalized it as his own short-coming.
And all of this isn't to say "Omg Sally is actually horrible" or to assert definitely that she is selfish... but more to speak to the fact that in the books, she's not an all-perfect 2-dimensional mother. And her self-assessment of selfishness is something that is really interesting to explore and debate given the implications of what she apparently did (or did not) know about the godly world. I feel there's even an argument to be made that Sally being "selfish" could be a reflection of Percy's fatal flaw.
#does this even make sense lol?#I just think its neat!#and its why find it ironic when I see takes of /book sally is one-dimensional/#because the implied flaws that made her more-dimensional in the books weren't even really carried across to the show?#idk idk#pjo#sally jackson#percy jackson
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Everyone in the league knows about Eddie Munson. He has the makings of a great pitcher, except for the fact that his slider has a 75% chance of sliding too high and his fastballs mostly end up in the dirt. His technique is wild, flailing, unrestrained. Which is why Steve is beside himself when he learns about the trade.
The owners, they think that Steve being the best catcher in the league means he can work with Eddie, settle him, make him a real prospect. Steve's input isn't needed with the decision already made, but Munson--with all his tattoos piercings and leather--looks like he'd rather hock a loogie at Steve than take directions from him.
And Steve is the best in the league, the glue that keeps the team together. They're a well-oiled machine, and Eddie is--Eddie is a squeaky wheel.
They meet for the first time, briefly, in the locker room. He's seen the guy before, of course, but now, like this, he can't help but be intrigued by his pale skin and long curls and brown doe-eyes, his lightly muscled frame. And they're in the locker room, Eddie with just a towel around his waist, exposing his toned chest and stomach and the black swirl of his tattoos.
"Steve Harrington!" Eddie reaches out a hand. "Great to meet you, man."
"You too. Excited to have you with us." The handshake is quick and firm and Steve is trying not to be surprised about how excited and genuine the guy sounds, keep his mind away from thinking of how Eddie is naked aside from the towel.
With only a few weeks until the start of the regular season, Eddie starts pitching to Steve. And Steve, he so expects Eddie to fight and grumble and refuse, that his head sort of spins when, on the first day, Eddie claps him on the back with his glove, says, "where do you want me, cap?" and that's that.
He wants to say that they dislike each other, that they're a bad fit, that Eddie is full himself and refuses constructive criticism.
Instead.
Instead it's easy.
Eddie doesn't complain, doesn't argue, just watches Steve, learns him, takes his advice and notes and implements them as much as he can. They like each other, have an easy rapport, get each other. He's tight with all the pitchers, but Eddie is different. They settle each other.
They're best friends. They hangout constantly. And he doesn't have a crush; he doesn't. It would be unprofessional. They're best friends.
But sometimes, sometimes he thinks he catches Eddie looking at him. It's impossible. Of course it's impossible. Eddie couldn't be into the guy Sports Illustrated called "baseball's Ralph Lauren model" in the intro to Steve's Body Issue photo spread. And it doesn't matter one way or the other because Steve won't make a move. He won't jeopardize the team like that.
They don't touch. He touches everyone on the team, often, and Eddie particularly is a physical guy, but aside from that first handshake, he keeps his distance. Steve's afraid--even though it's silly, he's afraid--that once they start touching, he won't be able to stop, and he can't let that happen.
The team is good, competing for first place in the National League. Eddie's success has made everyone else better.
It's late July, they're in first place in the league, and Eddie's pitching a perfect game. There's only been 24 perfect games thrown in the history of Major League Baseball, but it's the eighth inning and Eddie's doing it.
A pitch goes wild, veers high over the umpire's head. Eddie's shaken, Steve can tell with how his fist tightens compulsively around the ball. The next pitch swings wide, towards the batter's knees.
The count is at 2 balls, no strikes, and he can see, even from behind home plate Steve can see, that Eddie's losing it. He heads for the mound, refuses to let it end like this. He closes the distance between them, has a quick internal debate before he puts his hand on Eddie's lower back. They've never touched, this is it, this is--warmth bleeds from Eddie's skin, through the fabric of his jersey, goes straight to Steve's head.
Eddie frowns. "I don't think I--"
"You're going to do it, Ed. I know. I can feel it." He pats his chest, over his heart. "It's gonna happen."
Eddie's breathing settles and it's only then that Steve realizes he's rubbing circles into Eddie's back with his thumb. He's not sure when he started, doesn't want to stop, loves being able to feel.
"Okay," Eddie says.
"Okay."
Steve removes his hand, heads back to home, still tingling with the warmth of Eddie's body even as he crouches behind the plate.
He closes out the inning with three definitive strike outs. The crowd goes wild.
They take the field for the top of the 9th, the crowd is screaming, ready for this, the energy zipping through every player on the field.
It goes by in a blur. Nine pitches. Eddie's perfect game is wrapped up in nine phenomenal pitches.
As the ump calls the last out, there's a moment of complete and utter quiet in the stadium, Steve's heart a pounding hum in his ears, before pandemonium breaks loose. There's screaming, fireworks, someone is crying--
All he can see is Eddie. Eddie's who's thrown his glove to the dirt, is barreling towards him with a triumphant smile bright on his face. Steve stands, runs to close the distance. He sees the moment that Eddie decides to jump into his arms, catches him easily--will always catch him--but his legs are tired and the momentum gets him, sends them tumbling back into the grass.
They're both yelling, laughing, smiling hard enough to hurt. Eddie's hair has fallen out if its tie, tumbling around his shoulders, and Steve gazes at him, can't help it, in this moment can admit that he's so, so astronomically in love.
It's only then Steve realizes that the laughter's stopped, that Eddie's gazing back. Brown eyes shining bright with happiness, cheeks flushed pink, lips parted. Thoughtless, he reaches up to caress Eddie's cheek.
The team reaches them, streaming around them, yanking Eddie and Steve to their feet. The celebration stretches around them, the moment slipping away. He wants to finish what they started but there are interviews, champagne showers, congratulations, that keep them apart. Sometimes, from across the room, their eyes meet, and there's heat there that's new, that sparks something low in Steve's gut.
Hours pass, and finally he finds himself alone in the locker room. He's just pulled on his t-shirt when the door shuts behind him. He spins, finds Eddie, waiting, watching.
He crosses the room without a word, can't not, not now, not after everything. They grapple for a second, the wanting so strong that it takes a second to settle, to find each other. They kiss hard, desperate, seething with desire.
Steve hopes it never ends and it doesn't, just tapers into soft kisses, gentle nips. He can't bring himself to step away.
"Is this for real ?" Eddie whispers.
"I've been insane about you since the trade."
Eddie's smile is blinding. "I used to have those pictures of you--the ones with the little red shorts?--in my locker in the minors. Feel like I'm living in a dream right now."
It lights him up inside, knowing that Eddie wants him, has wanted him. "Let me take you home and show you just how real it is?"
He snorts, but his dimples deepen, eyes shining. "What a line, sweetheart."
"Yeah well, the baseball field isn't the only place where I hit home runs."
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#baseball au#teammates to lovers#ficlet#fluff#first kiss#feelings confession#steve thinks he'll hate eddie but he just falls in love with him instead#pitcher eddie munson#catcher steve harrington#i had this idea a month ago and forgot about it#dom/sub undertones in the way that what if steve gently doms eddie into pitching better#what if steve modeled for SI's body issue and what if eddie is obsessed with him the whole time#really playing fast and loose with how major league baseball works
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New Puppet Unlocked: Caine, The Puppetmaster!
Caine's character description:
For the longest time, Caine believed that he was the only Puppet left who hasn't gone insane, and has spent living in near complete and total isolation for it (if it weren't for Bubble, his robotic Butler Blimp), drowning himself in booze. That was, until Pomni suddenly arrived at his office out of nowhere and challenged him.
Her sudden appearance, her fierceness in battle and various other reasons, Caine sought to get Pomni to see the dire situation after a stalemate in their duel; That they're the last remnants of sane minds remaining in this forsaken lands and he needs her help for what must be done next, if they are to improve the world's conditions. Thankfully, the Harlequin was not actually cold-hearted, just hot-tempered.
Reinvigorated in his self-assigned purpose, The Puppetmaster now spends his time either indoctrinating reawakened Puppets and teaching them how to become "human" once more, tinkering/inventing new machines, having friendly debates or sparring with Pomni just to satisfy her urge to battle, and various other things.
Though, he still likes to drink.
Fun facts about Caine:
He is a massive drunkard.
He passes out in the most random places if he drinks too much. One of the most outrageous locations Pomni has found him in was at the chandelier on the main lounge, which even he can't remember how he got there.
Caine still acts boisterous and speaks mostly formally; though there are ways you can break his way of speech, the easiest way to do it is to surprise him.
He avoids using swears, says it's a gentleman's code. Though, some get past his mouth on a rare occasion.
He created Bubble out of loneliness, initially just wanting someone to talk to.
In a comedic parallel, he tends to limit Pomni's cravings for battle by holding her sword hostage as much as possible, of course to the Harlequin's frustration.
His second gold tooth on his bottom jaw was a result of his and Pomni's first meeting/duel. She ended up kicking him so hard in her rage, one teeth cracked in half and flew off.
He tends to look at everyone with a positive mindset and the want to see the best in them; although Jax seems to be a rare exception. Still, he lets the automaton be.
Most of his time is spent hanging around in his office. The only time you'll see him outside is if there's a task he needs to attend to, assembling Pomni back together in the cellar, another sparring match with the Harlequin, or when he talks to Z and/or Kingr, since they are both too big for the insides of the mansion.
Like almost every ADHD-person, he is prone to getting distracted easily.
He has a strict "no fighting in the premises" rule; instead, he tells them to literally take it outside (even if it means being on the neighboring lawn), as long as it's not on the INSIDE.
He keeps his shirt opened because he feels discomfort and suffocated when he buttons it up.
He doesn't like to talk about his past.
When asked what's his classification, he'll avoid and switch topics. His rare anger (but eerily-calm way of speech) comes out when you ask about it too much.
He does admit that his entire body was self-modified.
You can hear his arrival in a scene by the sounds of ball joints slightly cracking in place.
Aside from Pomni, he likes Kingr the most, finding the chess piece's presence calming. This has lead to jokes about a bromance happening between the two.
And just like Pomni as well, Caine fixes Kingr the most because the Helpful King tends to use himself as a shield for the Harlequin.
He's rarely seen without his cane.
He HEAVILY dislikes it when Pomni dies. When he is aware that Pomni is at the brink of death, he'll start panicking and telling her to go back and abandon the mission for now, through Bubble.
Quotes:
"Greetings! I am Caine, and I am here to help you. That's all you need to know."
"I think we can arrange that."
"This is not part of the plan!"
"No fighting! Take it outside."
"Perhaps we can reach to a sort of agreement..."
"Hmm... quite intriguing."
"Why, I must say, this is quite the predicament..."
"Will you be mindful of your own sake next time, pretty please?"
"... I don't-... think that's how-... you know what, do whatever you want."
"... Okay, you don't need to go that far."
"You know what this calls for? [...] A CELEBRATION! [...] BUBBLE, TO THE LIQUOR STORAGE"
"You know, I haven't really thought this through enough--"
"BUBBLE! Did you chew through my latest project again?!"
"Oy vey..."
"I am aware of the effect that alcohol has on me. And quite frankly, I don't care."
"Strange, where am I? Who am I? What are we, but mass-produced products catered to extending one's stay on a desolate, abandoned realm? Are we even human anymore, or are we machines that think we're human in order to save ourselves from the pain of a fake existence? Hm? Oh right, I haven't eaten my dinner."
"Must we really resort to this method?"
"Oh, I just fixed that!"
"Apologies, I blanked out for a second. What were we talking about?"
"Bubble here can help you out on your dilemma. Just don't listen to him for any advices. Personally, I think sometimes he can make you jump off a cliff."
"What do you mean "I need to stop drinking"? I'm perfectly fi- *passes out*"
"Am I aware that it is an unhealthy coping mechanism? Yes. Do I plan to stop? Not exactly, there aren't a lot of options left."
"That is outrageous! Me? With her? That's... It's... *sigh* I can't. She'd never."
"May I just say, for once, what the actual fuck."
#tadc#tadc au#harlequin au#tadc harlequin au#the amazing digital circus#caine#tadc caine#art#character description#Puppet!Caine#Puppetmaster!Caine
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I got political whiplash on Threads. First, everyone was screaming, âAll is lost!â I came back an hour later, and everyone was screaming, âWe Ride at Dawn!â
The right-wingers are in panic mode. Steven Miller was practically screaming on Feckless news. đ€Ł
I mean. The right-wingers' entire mentality, the fuel for the January 6 attempted coup, the recent SCOTUS President God-King Immunity ruling, and all the rest, is premised on the simple fact that the president is indeed, Almighty God King who serves for life and will never, ever willingly give up his power. So that's how I can guarantee that the GOP, because they are short-sighted fascist morons, did not plan for this. Their entire strategy was built around attacking Biden, because they hate him. Like, really hate him. He defeated Trump the first time and there was still a good chance that he could do it again. Trump got impeached the first time for trying to extort Zelenskyy for dirt on Biden, because he didn't want to face him. That's why they went after Hunter on largely bogus charges, tossed around the idea of impeaching Biden, actually (uselessly) impeached Mayorkas, etc.
And yet, because Biden (even if he was forced to do it) decided to step away and voluntarily give up his presidential power instead of wrecking American democracy to hold onto it, that has broken their little shriveled fascist brains. They literally can't comprehend it, and I can guarantee they're now shit scared about having to face Kamala, a brown woman, who is the epitome of everything their tiny evil brains hate. As noted by those bangin' fundraising numbers, there is also a lot of excitement around her. And suddenly, after MONTHS of "this election is a referendum on which old and mentally declining man you hate more," that has been removed as a factor. (Watch the media suddenly forget all about age and/or mental competency as a factor now that Biden is out. Does it apply to Trump, you ask? CRICKETS.)
Kamala is going to mop the f'n floor with Trump at the next presidential debate, and I guarantee that the GOP knows that too. Because yes, if Biden had another bad debate, or if he has a bad case of COVID that might end up giving him long-covid symptoms or keeping him off the trail for days or weeks, that would have been very, very hard to recover from. Now the GOP is the one stuck with an old, mentally baffled, virulently hated presidential candidate and the most pro-Russia, anti-woman, demonstrable-sellout whitebread VP pick imaginable, that they had to choose because Trump nearly got the last one killed and he wasn't interested in the job again, for some weird reason. And as we have pointed out before, this is the last-chance saloon for Trump in any number of ways, and he has been demonstrably overconfident the last few weeks as the media was consumed with discussion of Biden's stumbles rather than Trump's manifold unfitness, treason, felonies, and all the rest.
I don't agree with Biden on everything he has ever done in his long career in public service, but I will say that I don't think he would have actually done this if he wasn't eventually convinced, for whatever reason that might be, that it was the right decision. And my one big fear about him stepping down was that the party would instantly fracture, people would start flogging unrealistic Magical White Boy replacements, and otherwise insist on an "open mini-primary!" or some other fucking bullshit. Now, there are still a few idiots trying that, but by and large, the Democratic power apparatus has instantly thrown its weight behind Kamala. That doesn't excuse them for the weeks of wibbling Anonymous Sources self-sabotage beforehand, and I still vote that we destroy the billionaires at our next opportunity, but if we can stick with that and keep up those mongo fundraising numbers, we might indeed actually have a better chance than before, and that was what this was all about.
As I noted yesterday, Black women have been disproportionately influential in taking Trump down (think Leticia James, Fani Willis, etc) and there is undoubtedly a huge, HUGE amount of poetic justice if Kamala can be the one to stick the knife in his greasy orange gut once and for all. I can likewise guarantee the GOP is well aware of that, and the fact that while they can yell even louder and trot out the same old racist, sexist, misogynist fearmongering dirtbag attacks they used on HRC, that is a strategy with demonstrably diminishing returns (it sure as hell isn't going to help them win any more female or suburban or black voters or anyone else we always hear about how they're Making Inroads with). And we're not going to talk about how it's Obvious that America would never elect a black female president. Obama won two terms. Even with all that weight of frothing misogyny and DECADES of Republican smear machines, HRC won the popular vote and was ratfucked out of the Electoral College by the slimmest of margins, after a massive interference campaign by the Russians. It is fucking possible, we are going to do it, and the Republicans are so, SO FUCKING SCARED of having to live in an America run by a brown woman, that can only be for the good.
Kamala Harris 2024. Let's go.
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hello mae! you said that youâre tentatively thinking about doing poly! jily? how about them x shy!reader who is used to spending holidays alone but now that sheâs in a relationship, James and Lily wanna give her experiences of like carving pumpkins, baking cookies, or something like that.
just cute and domestic fall activities!! I hope thatâs enough.
Thank you for requesting lovely!
poly!Jily x shy!reader ⥠845 words
You smile, and James plants his lips on your cheek just before the flash.Â
âPerfect,â Lily says while the camera whirs. She takes the photo it spits out, going to stow it in a shady corner of the porch.Â
âNow one with you,â James urges.Â
âNo.â Lily waves him off as you second Jamesâ request. âHow would we get all of us and our pumpkins in it?âÂ
âJames has long arms,â you say.
"Yeah, Evans." James grabs you roughly around the shoulders, making your face heat even as you smile. "I have long arms. Give it here."
After some debate Lily hands over the camera. James holds it out as far as he can, waiting until youâre all holding up your jack-o-lanterns before pressing the button.Â
It goes beside the other photo, waiting for the film to develop. You know as soon as it does, both photos will be clustered in with the others on James and Lilyâs fridge, held up by magnets beginning to lose their strength under the weight of so many. Lily has always liked to take pictures, and ever since you got together sheâs been cramming ones of you into every empty space. This relationship is relatively new for you, and most days youâre still trying to figure out where you fit, but Lily and James do everything to make you feel welcome. In a million tiny ways, they show you all the time that they care just as much for you as they do for each other.Â
James looks between your pumpkins pridefully. âWhose do we think turned out the best?âÂ
âLilyâs,â you say at the same time as Lily says, âMine.âÂ
Jamesâ mouth falls open. âMine was good too!â
âSorry, Jamie.â You give his shoulder a consoling pat. âHers is just better.âÂ
The fact of the matter is, your girlfriend was simply patient where you and James were not. She outlined her jack-o-lanternâs face beforehand in marker, used a small knife to achieve the curvatures of one heart-shaped eye and one winking one, and took the time to make the edges of her cuts look nice and clean. James and you, however, tried to freehand things with much larger knives; it had not gone quite so well.Â
âI think there should be points for creativity,â says James, frowning at his botched pumpkin. Heâd tried to give it round eyes, and in the process accidentally cut more than he meant to. The result is jagged and vaguely upsetting, so eventually he decided it was an ill pumpkin and trailed its entrails out of its mouth so it looks like itâs vomiting pumpkin guts.Â
âIt was a very creative solution,â Lily tells James. And to you, âYou did really well for your first time, too, sweetheart.âÂ
You snort. Yours is nearly as bad as Jamesâ. Both of your partners had to show you how to saw through the pumpkin flesh more than once to keep you from yanking the knife out and stabbing yourself. After many tutorials, youâd managed two triangle-shaped eyes, but the teeth youâd tried to put in your jack-o-lanternâs mouth had fallen out, so now it just looks like a rather simplistic, very upbeat face.Â
âYou did,â Lily insists, but sheâs repressing a laugh too as she looks down at your pumpkin. âItâs cute.âÂ
âIt looks like something a five-year-old could have done,â you acknowledge.Â
âYou and a five-year-old have about the same amount of experience carving pumpkins, so thatâs not really so bad,â says James. He reaches for the polaroids Lily took. âLetâs see how these turned out.âÂ
âJames Potter,â Lilyâs voice goes sharp, âdonât you dare touch those with your slimy hands.âÂ
âOkay, alright.â James holds his hands up in the air. He stands instead, backing away slowly like Lily has him at gunpoint. âCâmon, lovie, letâs go fish the seeds out in the sink.âÂ
âWhat for?â you ask, following him as he carries your large bowl of pumpkin entrails inside.Â
âIf you separate the seeds and roast them, you can eat them.â James raises his eyebrows at you. âDonât tell me youâve never had pumpkin seeds before.âÂ
âNope.âÂ
âUgh. You poor, deprived girl.â James takes your face in his hands, and you smile despite the slick feeling of his pumpkin-y fingers on your cheeks. His eyebrows scrunch pityingly as he kisses above your nose. âWeâll right that wrong today, sweetheart, donât you worry.âÂ
âYou havenât been missing out on much,â Lily says, slipping past the two of you with your photos. She wedges them underneath a magnet on the fridge. âItâs a lot of effort for a snack.âÂ
âShe only says that because she canât stand the guts,â James tells you conspiratorially.Â
âReally?â You mash your hands into the stringy pumpkin bits. âI kind of like them.âÂ
Lily makes a face. âTheyâre all slimy and weird. And sticky.âÂ
âWimp,â James teases.Â
âYouâve just called them guts, James. In what world does that sound appealing?âÂ
âAngel,â James says in a quiet voice, âyouâll protect me, wonât you?âÂ
You frown at him. âWhy?âÂ
He picks up a small mass of pumpkin guts and lobs it at your girlfriend.Â
âJames!â
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