#he knows how to drive and is smarter than everyone else

[fossilized-honey]

There is nothing relatable in this post I just need someone else to understand

“OFMD brainrot”, “Good Omens Brainrot”

No.

Yo Fuvking Gabba Gabba Brainrot.

I have two younger brothers and it’s the only thing they will watch.

I have mental inside jokes about the show.

I have human designs for the core characters.

I have a story outline in my head for a yo gabba gabba !FAN COMIC!

I can’t keep this in my head anymore, so you’re all going to have to deal with it too.

[princessbellecerise]

Happily Ever After

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | How the Yandere!HOTD characters would react after being told by your father that they cannot marry you

warnings | Smut, mentions of pregnancy, yandere behavior, public sex, violence, mentions of death and sword fights

this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

Prince Jacaerys grows desperate upon being told he cannot marry you

The usual level-headed and reasonable Prince that people are used to seeing quickly goes out of the window and is replaced by a man desperate to do anything to have you

Not having you by his side was not part of his plan, and it’s simply not an option

Jace absolutely refuses to have anyone else as his partner, and he’ll be damned if you marry anyone but him

After being told no by your father, Jace begins to spiral

Anyone can see that the Prince is clearly not happy, and his behavior starts to become panicked and irrational

Rhaenyra tells him to let it go; to let you go but she doesn’t understand. How can Jace let you go when you’re everything he’s ever wanted?

He tells, no begs your father to reconsider, tells him that he can’t imagine spending his life with anyone else but you

Jace tries to get him to see just how in love the two of are, but unfortunately your father still tells him no. And it’s nothing against Jace, he reassures the prince, but it’s just that—much to everyone’s surprise—your father has already made arrangements to betroth you to someone else

You of course have absolutely no knowledge of this, and you’re stunned when your father apologizes to Jace but it’s still a big, fat no

He sends you both away and tells you not to ask again because everything is final. And even when you burst into tears, begging your mother to not let him do this, your father doesn’t budge

“This alliance is vital for our House, Y/N. I’m sorry, but you will not be marrying the Prince.”

That night, you go to bed absolutely devastated and of course, you want nothing more than for Jace to comfort you. You wish to sneak out and go to his chambers like you normally do, but your father is smarter than you anticipated

As if he knew exactly what you intended to do, he asks Rhaenyra to place a royal guard at your door

No one is allowed in and no one is allowed out, which makes your plan of seeing Jace impossible

You beg and you plead, but the guard does not budge. He simply tells you go back to bed and alas, you do not see Jacaerys that night. Or any night after that

It seems that your father is intentionally keeping you away from the prince, whisking you away every time he tries to approach or arranging your schedule so that you do not run into him

Additionally, there seems to be a guard present for every little thing you do, so sneaking away isn’t an option

If you do so happen to even see Jace, it’s only through fleeting glances and the lack of contact begins to drive you both insane

You can’t stand being away from one another and time is running out. The only reason your family is in King’s Landing is because your father was there for business, but soon he will be finished and you’ll have to go back to your homeland. Without Jace, to marry someone else

The sheer thought of it gives you anxiety, but you’ve exhausted your pleas and by now you know that your father won’t listen

There’s nothing you or Jace can do to change his mind—or at least, that’s what you think

Two days before you’re supposed to leave though, a sudden knock on the door shocks you. When you open it, you’re expecting it to be one of your family members, but nothing—absolutely nothing—prepares you to see Jace standing on the other side; the guard knocked out, Jace’s fist bloody, and a wild look in his brown eyes

When you ask him what the hell happened, Jace responds by telling you that he can’t live without you, and that he was willing to do whatever it took to make you his

He couldn’t let you leave without doing something, and so that night, the prince takes you in every position that he can think of. Missionary, doggy style, against the wall, on the balcony

Anything to breed your pretty little cunt, anything to make sure that his seed takes

Jace hates it, he hates breaking the rules and as heir he knows what he’s doing is wrong

He knows that impregnating you while not being married could potential ruin him, you, and his mother. He knows how the greens would react to a bastard having a bastard, but he’s so afraid of losing you that he doesn’t care

Jace risks everything that night just to make sure that you stay by his side; and it works

A few days later, you still end up leaving with your family but on the journey back home you pray to the Gods that your plan works

You pray that Jacaerys’ seed takes root in your womb and to your utter excitement, you prayers come true

A few short weeks after returning home, you notice that your moon blood hasn’t come and you start to get sick nearly every morning

You’re barely well enough to attend any meetings with your so-called ‘betrothed,’ and it doesn’t take long for someone to catch onto your symptoms

When your maids discover what’s going on, they immediately tell your mother, who in turn tells your furious father

When you finally break the news, you swear that you had never seen him get so angry before. Had your mother not been holding him back, you were sure that he would’ve strangled you where you stood

Alas though, as much as he wanted to wring your neck he knew that harming the future Queen of Westeros would not be a wise decision

After all, there were no doubts about who the father of your unborn child was, and as soon as the news broke your father had furiously written to Rhaenyra and informed her of the situation

As soon you arrived in King’s Landing, you were all but thrown into a wedding gown, modified to fit over your stomach of course

But either way, you and Jace get exactly what you want—the opportunity to spend forever together, and six moons later, a healthy, chunky baby that just so happens to be born three moons sooner than anyone expected

Aegon Targaryen

Aegon is angry when your father tells him no

And it’s not just because of the rejection, it’s also because he knows—Aegon knows that the only reason he says no is because your father doesn’t think he’s good enough for you

In fact, your father flat-out tells him this, and to make things even worse, your father declares that you’ll marry his brother instead—the responsible, honorable Aemond

Like hell Aegon would ever let that happen

You are the one thing Aegon has that Aemond doesn’t. Someone to love and genuinely care for him, and Aegon isn’t going to let that go so easily

He has half a mind to draw his sword and kill your father on the spot for even suggesting such a vile idea, but you beg him not to. Despite heavily disagreeing with your father’s decision, you tell Aegon that there’s other ways to get him to change his mind that doesn’t involve bloodshed

Surprisingly, Aegon listens to you but you should’ve known it was only because he had already thought of something worse

You didn’t know it, but when Aegon lures you into his chambers the next day, he’s come up with a plan

He knows exactly how to get your father to change his mind, and his plan starts the moment he has you naked

Unfortunately, it’s not the first time you and Aegon have fucked so bedsheets are no use to him. No, your lover has to get a bit more creative than that

Somehow, Aegon convinces you to try something new and you end up bent over the Prince’s balcony as he fucks you from behind, his cock driving in and out of your slick cunt

It’s the middle of the day and what you’re doing is beyond risky, not only because you’re not married, but also because literally anyone could look up and see the two of you

You see, the Prince’s balcony just so happened to overlook the training yard, and though it was empty at the moment, Aegon knew exactly when it got crowded

All he had to do was wait for his chance, fucking you so good that you didn’t even grasp the situation

You were none the wiser as to what was happening, eyes closed as you basked in the pleasure. You moaned his name and clenched around his cock, feeling a familiar pinch in your stomach

Just as you reached your peak, you began to hear shouting from below

Startled gasps and a few screams had your eyes flying open, Aegon smirking as you caught the attention of at least twenty people—one of whom was your father

He stood, horrified as the prince locked eyes with him. Seemingly taunting him as he rutted into you, moaning and still fucking you against the railing

Aegon swore that he had never came so hard in his life—expect maybe on your wedding night less two days later, the memory of your father’s face and the satisfaction of getting what he wanted fueling what he calls, “The best fuck of his goddamn life.”

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon is amused upon being told no

He’s amused and it’s because he never really asked for permission in the first place. It was more like…a courtesy warning, and he only did it because he knew you were too scared to tell your father yourself

After all, the Rouge Prince has a reputation and it’s not exactly squeaky clean. Daemon’s track record with his wives is why your father said no, but he should’ve known that no isn’t in Daemon Targaryen’s vocabulary

In fact, Daemon merely laughs in your father’s face, declaring that the two of you will be married in a fortnight, regardless of what your father says

Show up or don’t, Daemon doesn’t care—but you will be his wife

And of course, your father protests, appalled that the prince is so bold

He even goes as far as to complain to the King, but Viserys is old and weak. There’s seldom that he can do to fight Daemon anymore except threaten to exile him again, but Daemon isn’t afraid of punishment

He’ll gladly leave the hell hole that’s King’s Landing, but he makes it clear that if he does, Westeros will never see him or you again

He relays this threat to your father, and in his desperation to keep you away from the Prince, your father all but flees in the middle of the night. Making sure that no one except those loyal to your House know where he’s taking you

Despite your protests and your attempts to alert Daemon, you’re dragged on a boat and shipped off to a far away land, one where your father hopes the Prince will never find you

He even goes so far as to change your hair and make up a fake identity for you, but he was a fool to think that he could ever cross Daemon Targaryen

If the Prince wasn’t annoyed with your father before, then Daemon is most certainly furious when he learns that he’s all but kidnapped you

He sets to work on finding you almost immediately, and he swears once he does he’ll kill anyone that helped with this ridiculous scheme

He starts his search by fiercely questioning all of the guards and servants that were tending to you. And because he’s Daemon Targaryen, it doesn’t take long to get the answers he’s looking for

With one look at Caraxes, the so-called men that were loyal to your house end up folding pretty quickly. Daemon has them all but fighting each other to give up your location, though unfortunately their honesty isn’t enough to spare their lives

In his pursuit to get where you are, Daemon leaves a trail of bodies

He kills anyone that he suspects of helping your father, though his rage won’t be satisfied until he confronts the man himself

And what do you know—your father truly is a fool of a man because it turns out that he took you to Pentos. Pentos, the land where Daemon Targaryen lived for years

Why he thought that was a good idea, no one knows. Perhaps he thought that hiding you in plain sight would be enough to fool Daemon, but unfortunately the rouge Prince is much too smart for that

And due to all of the connections Daemon has in the city (and his dragon) it takes him less than a week to locate you

He finds you hiding just on the outskirts of the city, in some rundown village. You look miserable as you chat with some of the locals, hatching your own plans to escape and somehow get back to Daemon

Your father was asleep in the house that you shared, though the beat of Caraxes’ wings are enough to alert you both, your father waking up and running outside just as Daemon lands in front of you

The Prince wears a smirk of triumph as he dismounts his dragon, taking in your father’s horrified face and laughing

He enjoys the moment almost as much as he enjoys the way you immediately run to you, ignoring your father’s protests and shouts to come back

It’s obvious who you choose by the way you hang onto Daemon, hiding behind him while Caraxes roars

There’s a moment where everything seems to stand still, and Daemon drinks in his moment of victory before slowly gesturing you towards his dragon, helping you mount

As you climb onto the red beast, Daemon slipping in the saddle behind you, the last thing your father sees is the smirk that adorns Daemon’s face

Lilac eyes with with his own, and then, Prince’s lips utter a single word

“Dracarys.”

Lucerys Velaryon

Poor Luke is devastated when your father rejects his proposal

It took all he had to muster up the courage to even ask, and now he’s crushed that he won’t be able to marry the love his life

Not only that, Luke genuinely cannot see himself with anyone else. You’re it for him, and he’s determined to be with you no matter what

Call it young love or maybe just sheer stupidity, but one night Luke sneaks into your chambers and hatches a plan

He tells you that there’s a way for you to be together, a way for you to have your happy ending after all. All you have to do is come with him, and he’ll take you to a place where no one, including your father, can come between you two ever again

And that night, when you flee with the Prince on the back of Arrax, it almost feels like a fairytale. You’ve never felt more alive than you did as you watched the Red Keep disappear into the night

With your heart beating as fast as Arrax’s wings, you and Luke run away, neither of you thinking of the consequences, or caring

You’re just so happy to be together that everything else falls into the background. Caught up in your own bliss, you and Luke flee to Essos where the Prince has arranged for you to be married

Like he promised, no one is there to object or to stop you from becoming one. They’re all too busy in King’s Landing looking for you both, your mother distraught and your father wondering what happened to his youngest child

Likewise, Rhaneyra nearly collapses when she finds out that Luke is missing, but Daemon reassures her he’ll be back. He doesn’t know when, he tells her, but he has a sneaking suspicion that when he does you’ll be in tow

And what do you know—four moons go by and it turns out that Daemon was right. You and Luke return to King’s Landing after all, and upon arrival you’re greeted by your weeping mother and your

concerned father

They both have so many questions—where have you been, what happened, why did you run away?

And everyone is so focused on questioning you, so relieved that the Prince isn’t dead after all, that they almost miss the glaringly obvious bump that’s concealed behind your blue dress

Almost

You try to hide it as best as you can, but when your father pulls you in for a hug you know that he can feel it. The horrified expression he wears when he pulls away confirms this. And when you back away, placing a loving hand over your stomach and settling into Luke’s arms, that is when he also takes note of the matching Velaryon pins on your clothes

“We have something to announce,” Luke tells his mother excitedly

You both share a loving look, and Rhaneyra’s eyes are ready to pop out of her skull when Luke places a hand over your stomach and grins

“Y/N is with child.”

Aemond Targaryen

Aemond takes your father’s words as a challenge

Despite how irritated he is at being flat-out rejected, he decides not to lash out or show any emotion really

For Aemond, keeping a level head is important. It allows him to plan, to strategize like he’s always been taught and to be able to stay one step ahead

He supposes he’s just like his grandfather in a way, and it’s obvious that your father underestimates just how far Aemond is willing to go for you

The first man that your father agrees to betroth you to only lasts about five minutes in the duel Aemond challenges him to

The second fairs a little better, though not by much. By the third, your father is furious and it’s become a game for Aemond to see how fast his opponent can last before they ultimately meet their maker

He wears a smirk the entire time he’s fighting, easily ducking and dodging and occasionally striking which wounds the man heavily. It’s obvious that he’s going to win, again, and the sobs and screams from the Lord’s family are hard to miss

They sit next to you in the crowd that surrounds him and Aemond, and every time Aemond lands a blow your father flinches, muttering under his breath how it was a mistake to ever let you meet that man

You on the other are ecstatic, occasionally locking eyes with Aemond and sending him encouraging smiles

You pray after each duel that your father will finally change his mind and allow you to marry Aemond, but it’s not until after the fourth duel does he agree

After a particularly bloody and grueling fight, there are no more proposals. Every Lord that had ever considered asking for your hand is now too terrified to even speak to you, and with the lack of marriage offers your father has no choice but to admit defeat

He agrees to marry you to Aemond, and of course, Aemond feels victorious. He smugly thanks your father for his reconsideration, shaking his hand and promising that he won’t be regretting his decision

[qlossytbh]

im so FUCKING stupid and i accidentally forgot to add tags and i deleted the anon request this fic was inspired from so i will paste it here

“Could you please write one about having a team night round Rossi's but you and Spencer had had an argument before so it was tense between the pair of you so you try and flirt with one of the out of town agents to try and get his attention?”

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧- 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you and Spencer don’t usually get along due to your constant fights to prove who was better. But when the two of you are paired on a case together, hidden feelings start to arise towards the surface.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 enemies to lovers type beat (?), academic rivals (?), fem!reader, typical criminal minds content, jealous spence, mentions of a guy that gets a little too handsy

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 4.6k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i get a little carried away with request oops. i don’t think this is exactly what you were asking for but

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had come to no one's attention that you and Spencer were fighting— again..

The BAU team was currently hunting down a murderer that was attacking teenagers at a local campus in the city of Chicago, and all that Reid seemed to be doing these past few days was getting on your nerves.

Wether it was searching the crime scene, analyzing the possible behavioral patterns of the UnSub, or setting down a profile, you and Reid could not stop bickering, driven solely off the desperation of beating each other with whoever could piss the other off more.

You thought Spencer had this aggravatingly, annoying need to prove he was always so much smarter than everyone else, using his wide variety of big intellectual words just to show off.

He, on the other hand, truly couldn't stand how you'd always butt into every conversation you deemed necessary attempting to seem smarter just to get yourself on top of a case. Your ego had been Spencer's main problem across these past few months, but it was slowly driving him off the wall and he found that with each passing day, he was finding it harder to work with you.

The initial conflict seemed irrelevant right now— something about Spencer purposely embarrassing you in front of the the team back when you had just started out in the BAU. Even if it was unintentional, the anger stuck.

You had been so embarrassed, feeling your insides pool with irritation as you questioned why he felt the necessity to correct you so publicly— in front of people you still didn't know.

With time, it slowly morphed into a constant competition to prove who was smarter, quicker on their feet, more widely intellectual than the other, always finding ways to one up each other in conversations— anything.

You were smart and you couldn’t blame him for seeing you as a competition the second you stepped foot into the BAU.

The rest of the team was growing sick of the two of you always whining and bickering. It could be the smallest, stupidest fights— or something so weighty, the two of you wouldn’t speak for days.

However, the two of you got into a fight yesterday when landing in Chicago.

It had been stupid

It started when you "accidentally" slammed the taxi door in his face, genuinely not realizing he was getting out of the cab on the same side you were, even though a side of you thought he deserved much more than a slammed door to the face.

Later on in the day a heavier argument spewed, given since he accused you of being ‘unprofessional’, which had incredibly pissed you off. It was the one thing that truly got to you, and Spencer knew this.

Since then, none of you had spoken to each other and the rest of the team could practically feel the tension. Hotch rounded the table, pressing his hands together.

"So, let's lay it all out," Hotch announced. "Who's starting?”

You and Spencer both volunteered simultaneously. You shot a glare in his direction, which he easily disregarded as he stood from his seat at the table

"So far, we know were looking for a male between the age of 20-25," You cross your arms across your chest and look over at the board with a huff, accepting your defeat.

Your eyes scanned through the evidence and pictures at hand. While Spencer continued his analysis, hands shoved deep into his pockets, you squinted at the words scribbled onto the case file. "The killer seems to have a target preference given how all four victims have been female college students between the ages of 18-24"

"So, do we know which kind of killer were dealing with here?" Morgan asked, flipping through the case files.

"If I'm not mistaken, the last victim presented a alteration in the Unsub’s M.O in comparison to what we've been observing so far, which could ultimately mean we could be dealing with a disorganized offender acting out on—" He stated, turning towards the board, but when your eye caught a part of information in the file, you were quick to interrupt.

"Actually, you are mistaken," You reached over, grabbing the file in front of you in one swift movement and flipped the page as you stood to your feet. Spencer froze and turned towards you.

"Excuse me?" He inquired, clearly unamused at your antics. You briefly looked up at him, only sparing him a brief glance.

"You're wrong. The Unsub isn't disorganized," You jutted your chin towards the board. "We're actually dealing with an organized offender."

Morgan glanced over at JJ, quietly cursing to himself knowing that this was probably payback and not heading in any favorable direction.

"Sure, this specific victim wasn't as calculated and precise as the other," You started. "Up until now, the Unsub seemed to be killing all of these girls with long, tedious methods, such as torturing them, which clearly shows us he feels no remorse and actually finds pleassure out of killing them. Organized crimes are premeditated and carefully planned, so that would explain why we found little to no evidence at the scene yesterday and organized criminals, according to the classification scheme, can tell right from wrong—"

"—But our buddy here doesn't care," Morgan finished off, looking up at you. With a nod, you continued

"Precisely. The pattern of our victims also leads us to believe that he's seeaking some sort of revenge on the girls, since they're all from the same background." You pointed to a few post-it notes on the board. "Right here it says that all four girls belonged to the same frat house on campus—"

"Yet our recent victim did not," Spencer butted in with a shurg, facing you smugly. With an unamused glance, you took two warning steps towards him, maintaining your composure.

"Well, Dr. Reid, if you read the autopsy report you'd see that the newest victim died from a blunt force to the head," Annoyed was an understatement as to what you were feeling towards him at that precise moment. Your eyes narrowed while you managed to keep on the most innocent smile you could. "That means that the attack was out of some unplanned rage, which caused him to lashout and therefore break his regime."

You took one more step towards Reid, suddenly dangerously close to him. Intimidating people wasn’t something that came hard, much less with Spencer.

Something inside you fed off that vast satisfaction that arose when he'd get activated with you. Seeing his breaths go shallow, his whole posture to stiffen along with the habitual furrow in his brows felt like your daily dosis of serotonin.

"If you payed more attention to these case files, you'd also see that the newest victims was our previous victims best friend, so there still is a connection just not the one you've been blindly looking for.”

With that you slapped the files into his chest and stepped back, referring back over to the board.

Spencer gapped at you, opening his mouth before clamping it shut immediately. He fumbled, grappling at the papers on his chest and looking down at them in embarrassment. You felt yourself smile with satisfaction at how his movements became sloppy. "I— I would've said that if you let me finish my analysis and let me actually read these papers."

"Or you can just admit you're slow—"

"So!" JJ butted in, quickly cutting off whatever fight was about to implode in-front of them. "We’re looking for someone connected throughout the campus that would somehow want some sort of revenge on these girls? Correct?"

"Yes." You and Spencer stated simultaneously. You bit back a comment, swiping your tongue against your lower lip, annoyance filling every single nerve in your body while he let out a noise similar to a scoff.

"Here's the plan then," Hotch said, ignoring the two of you. "Prentiss and I will give the Chicago police force the profile. Morgan and JJ, deal with collecting possible witnesses; anyone at that campus who knows anything that may deem useful."

You stood, glancing over at Spencer. When he met your eyes you quickly looked away, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

"Reid, Y/L/N," Hotch said, finally acknowledging the two of you with a steady gaze. "You two will assigned search the crime scene to see if any evidence was left behind—just protocol checking, but we need to be sure nothing was left unseen."

You opened and closed your mouth, intending to protest about the pairing but deciding strongly otherwise.

With the intention to remain professional you nodded in agreement. As hard as you found to do so, you waited patiently for the other members of the team to draining the room until only you, Morgan, JJ, Spencer were left collecting the remaining of your things.

As Morgan was grabbing a few of his things with JJ patiently waiting by his side, you walked up to her with a devious smile. "Hey Jayj, wanna change partners?"

"I am right here." Spencer answered.

"I dont care," You shot back, causing him to angrily shove more of his files into his satchel. You turned back to Morgan, practically ready to get onto your knees and beg him for sympathy. "Please Morgan, trade with me— I'm begging you."

"We don’t get to choose who we get paired with,” He started, looking down at you unamused. Your face fell, deadpanning at your friend.

“If you're going to complain about being paired with Reid none of us wanna hear it," Morgan groaned, dragging a hand across his face. You opened your mouth to protest, but he rudely cut you off by pointing an accusitory finger at you. "The two of you have been yapping at eachother faces since we got here."

"We have not!" You both shouted in unison. You angrily turning around to face Spencer, warning him with a glare. “Stop that!"

"It's always something with the two of you," JJ shook her head in disappointment. "You're lucky you two are the smartest members on the team cause we would've had you seperated months ago,"

JJ finished grabbing her things and glared at the two of you. Morgan grabbed his things as well, before turning to you. "Either you sort out all of this sexual tension you've got going on or you keep your mouths shut and get along!"

"What!?" You gaped, taking aback by Morgan's accusations. "Thats not—We dont—"

You fumbled with your words as your cheeks grew hot. You stammered, trying to hit back with something, but inevitably found your mind blank. You huffed, snatching your bag and rushing towards the exit of the conference room "I hate you."

"No you don't princess." Morgan stated as you walked past him and shoved his arm.

"And you boy genius," Morgan said looking at Spencer and tossed her bag across her shoulder. "That goes for you too, either get laid, or shut up."

With that, they left the room leaving a sputtering and angry Spencer struggling to regain his composure after the absurdity that had left his collegues mouth. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and grabbed his final things, leaving the room in a frenzy.

You pulled the cars ignition once you pulled the car into the Campus buildings entrance. You put the car in park as you umblucked your seatbelt, which Spencer started doing not long after you had, following your suit. The ride had been completely silent, none of you wanted to speak to eachother, worrying that if you did another argument would start.

All he did during the ride was read some of the case files while you intently focused on the road. Your hands gripped tightly at the steering wheel and every once and a while you'd sneak small glances at him— not because you cared or anything, you just wanted to see how much more information he was getting ahead of you with.

The building was secluded off to the public and the entrance was swarmed with countless police officers and agents. As you climbed out of the car, you pulled your glasses onto the top of your head and slammed the door in one swift motion. By the time you got to Spencers side of the door, he was still inside slowly collecting his things, which pissed you off. You waited impatiently for him to climb out with a huff.

For what seemed to feel like forever, he finally opened the car door and started to climb out as you waited impatienly. "You look like you're doing that on purpose."

"Getting out of the car? Yeah, I am actually" He stated, finally stepping out. A snide remark came up your throat but wasn't able to leave your mouth given how Spencer towered over you once he strightened himself out.

He unintentionally stepped way too close for your personal preference, but your boundaries melted somewhere in your consciousness.

You craned your head back just slightly, allowing yourself to look into his eyes. Spencer swallowed thickly, suddenly painfully aware of how close the two of you were. An unfamiliar voice reeled the two of you back to reality. "Dr. Y/L/N?"

You practically jumped, swallowing down the urge to yelp. You stepped away from Spencer, blinking rapidly as you cleared your throat. "Uh yes!—“

"Thats, uhm, me—“ You slipped your glasses off and put them into your bag anxiously. "Dr. Y/L/N."

You turned to the Agent in front of you, who held his hand out with an irksomely pearly white smile. You gazed at the man, and you had to admit he was easy on the eyes— a little too stereotypically attractive for your taste.

"I'm Agent Mirthwood, head of the Chicago police department, Aaron Hotchner specified you'd be here to help with the case," You took his hand and shook it. "Wasnt expecting a doll like you."

Spencer didnt miss the way his eyes raked across your body, taking in every part of you with careful detail. You were wearing a silk black button up, along with a blazer that matched the skirt that hugged your skin tightly. Spencer would have to be blind to ignore how every piece of clothing you had on hugged every inch of your curves perfectly, so obviously, whoever this guy was, he was going to be staring.

How couldnt he?

You laughed nervously and Spencer, despite his profiler background, couldn't tell if it was becasue you were uncomfrotable or flattered. Either possibilities made his skin crawl.

"Charming," You noted, not really wanting to give him any more material to chew at. "So, mind leading the way?"

"Not at all." He grinned, placing his hand on your lower back and guiding you towards the building. Spencer followed behind pathetically, feeling his hands clench and his jaw tighten while he watched the guys hand linger where they didn't belong.

Once inside the building, you and Spencer looked around your surroundings, checking over a few areas of the marked numbers and rerunning the supposed series of events in your heads. "This is where the first victim tried escaping,"

You and Spencer simultaneously looked over to the glass window that had been merely cracked. "Can't believe how a murder took place and the campus director didn't even close the place down for more than five days."

"Agent Mirthwood, you said that the floor above us was where Anya Colins was murdered, correct?" You asked, looking over towards the locker. Spencer stood beside you with his hands shoved into his pocket.

"Over in classroom seven, yes” He responded. His eyes flickered towards the pop of your hip. “Call me Ben,"

You looked over your shoulder momentarily, shooting him a polite smile. Spencer bored his eyes into the side of the agents face, slyly enough so that he wouldn’t notice.

"Could it be possible that we take a look across the flooring, you know, check inside any of the clases for some clues we may have missed?" You said, lifting your chin and facing Agent Mirthwood. He smiled bumptiously at you.

"Why I'd be delighted to accompany you and help you look out for whatever it is you're looking for—"

"Actually," Spencer butted in, somewhat protectively if you let yourself assume— given how the tone of his voice had grown territorial. "Hotchner specifically implied we stick together as the pair we were assigned, and we usually work best when just the two of our heads are looking around."

You furrowed your brows, looking up at Spencer with confusion. His tone alarmed you momentarily, and at first you wanted to grow defensive because who was he to boss you around?

You took in the familiar line-out of his clenched jaw and how his shoulders broadened ever so slightly. You noticed he had chosen to stand between you and Agent Mirthwood, and suddenly it dawned you and hit you harder than a ton of bricks.

Spencer Reid was jealous.

Despite the weird feeling nagging at your chest, you couldn't contain how a smug smile began to appear onto your face. Somehow this newfound information cave you a newfound cockiness— you finally found something you knew had the upper hand on.

"Actually Ben," You dodged Spencer, making a B-line for the broad man you had only recently met. You tried looking as innocent as you possibly could, the look you always used to get men right into the corner you needed them in. "I'd actually love having your company. I'm gonna need someone watching over me up there."

Spencer froze, looking back and forth as the darkness in this guys eyes only increased and suddenly— he panicked. Spencer was panicking because he genuinely thought you were going to leave with Agent Mirthwood and he wouldn't be able to watch over you or him, or anything you did with him—

Then he saw it. The way you turned, shooting him a challenging glare over your shoulder towards him.

"You wouldn't mind, would you Dr. Reid?"

“I—“ His fists tightened as he stared at you, stunned. Something underneath his gaze was warning you that you were pushing him close to his limits and you loved it.

“One of the victims was attacked up there and then dragged herself all the way down here,” You watched the agent explain broadly.

“That must’ve been horrible,” You added an almost feather like gasp to your words. He knew damn well that you knew what this officer was saying was nothing but false due to how the crime scene was framed.

“Yeah,” Ben took a step closer to you and Spencer couldn't even stop himself when he pried through, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him territorially.

“Bosses order. The rest of you keep looking around to see if anything looks out of place."

Spencer dragged you all the way up the stairs and into the empty hallway on the second floor. You struggled to keep up, complaining pretty vocally that your heels were screwing up your rhythm, especially in comparison to his long and hurried strides. You finally dug the palm of your foot into the ground and yanked your arm away.

"What the hell is your deal!?" You clamored, knowing you had him cornered. He turned, pushing his lips into a straight line and looking at you in complete silence.

“My deal!?" He shot back suddenly, gesturing towards you in an exasperated motion. “You barely know the man and you're willing to walk somewhere with him alone..!”

You scoffed. "Oh please, like coming up here with you is any better."

"You don't run the risk of getting potentially murdered by me." He said, trying to prove his point.

"You sure about that?"

Spencer looked at you and something shifted behind his eyes. Your face was furrowed with nothing but pure anger as you huffed widely. Spencer opened his mouth and closed it once again, hesitating whether to say what he was about to.

"You're being unprofessional." He blankly stated. Your mouth fell agape.

There was that fucking word again— You felt about ready to murder him. There was adrenaline coursing through every nerve of your body at this point.

“What did you say?” You almost whispered.

“I said you’re being unprofessional.” He stated nonchalantly. You gaped at him before tightening your fist and resisting the urge to punch the crap out of that smug look.

“I’m unprofessional?!”

“Yes,”

“That’s because you’re making it hard for me to work with you!”

He rolled your eyes at you and became indignant.

“Stop doing that!” You barked.

“Im not doing anything,”

“You keep treating me like im stupid,” You pointed a finger at him. “Stop acting like you’re so much better than me when you are not.”

Spencer clamped his mouth shut, seeing you blaze with anger. “Ben would be a way better company than you,”

“Why do you keep saying his name like that?”

You huffed. “Like what?”

“Like—“ Spencer stopped, sucking in a sudden breath as if he hasn’t been breathing since he walked up here with you. “Never mind,”

You scoffed. “No come on,”

You took a dangerous step towards Spencer, now only a few inches away from his face. “Say it,”

“Because I think Ben, pissed you off the most when he had his hands on my—“

Spencer quickly grabbed your face in between both his hands and slammed his mouth onto yours. You inhaled visiously through your nose as you melted immediately under his touch.

Everything froze right then and there as he pulled away quicker than he had leaned in. Your face still remained cupped gently in his hands while your grip was tight on both his wrists as you stared at him, mouth low in shock. A shaky breath left his mouth, and fear was pooling around in his eyes.

You could feel your own chest heaving as you looked back and forth at his eyes, still not grasping what had just happened between the two of you. Spencer towered over your small frame, holding you as if you were the most fragile thing in the room. It felt like there was a rope pulling between the two of you and it was right about to break. His thumb grazed your bottom lip and you could practically hear the chord snap.

All the anger drained your body instantly as you caught yourself pulling him onto your mouth with just as much desperation as he had previously done. Your movements were hurried and frantic, as if both of you were scared that at any point this new found standing point would stop disappear and distance would be put between the two of you. The last thing you wanted was for his body to be any farther away from you than it currently was, and not understanding why you suddenly felt that way, angered you even more.

His mouth hungrily moved against yours as his grip on your face tightened. Your hands snaked their way into the back of his soft curls and pulled at them roughly, emitting a groan from his mouth onto yours.

Out of all the times you'd provoked a groan from Spencer Reid, this had been your all time favorite.

In frantic movements, Spencer pushed you against the nearest wall, hearing a rough thud come from behind you but never once disconnecting your lips from his. His hips pushed against your in one rash motion, causing you to whimper softly against his lips, which reached the deepest parts of him

His hands traveled anywhere and everywhere you'd let them. They ran down your waist and stopped at your hips giving them a rough squeeze which only caused you to squirm once again and pull at his hair ever rougher.

Everything was messy and hurried but so unexplainably wonderful.

"Tell me to stop and I will," He muttered over your lips.

"Don't—“ You warned, panting desperately for him to grab you in ways you could have only dreamt about. You needed to feel his hands rake across your body as if he owed it. “Please, don’t”

Spencer’s heart shuddered as he could visibly hear the desperation in your voice. How you were practically begging for this just as much as he had been. How you melted under his touch so effortlessly.

Before Spencer could move any further, a voice cut the two of you off. “Hey, guys!”

You pushed Spencer off yourself with a little more urgency than you had initially intended. You ran your hands through your hair frantically and pushed your skirt down, which had accidentally— not so accidentally— been pushed up. Spencer on the other hand, settled with a simple, subtle gesture of grazing the corner of his lip to remove some of the nude pink lipstick that had smudge a bit onto his face.

He cleared his voice before turning to whoever had called out, but before he could say anything you quickly interjected. “Morgan? JJ? What are you doing here?”

Spencer could’ve allowed himself to smile at the sound of the quiver in your voice and how your body was still distraught by the adrenaline.

Morgan eyed the two of you and it didn’t take any time at all for him to realize what had happened. The shuffled hair, the puffy lips along with all the wrinkled clothes. Not to mention how both of your chests heaved heavily.

“We have an advance on the case but it seems like you two are busy with something…” JJ stated, looking over at Morgan from the side of his eye.

“Or someone,” He added. You tried to find some sort of defense in your favor but came up with none. You didn’t want to even look Spencer in the eye, so you quickly turned and headed for the staircase, when you approached Morgan, he whistled lowly.

“Someone got a piece of genius boy and enjoyed it—“ You smacked the back of his head.

“Hey!” He groaned, looking back at you while you strutted down the stairs, barely being able to keep your balance steady.

i am planing on doing a spicy part two😝

[kisakis-boyfriend]

♦️ soft noncon with sub Wanderer/ Scaramouche

Author's Note: You get +1 bonus points for requesting my obsession gfhgsfk. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one~ 💜

Pairings: Scaramouche x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Scaramouche, soft noncon, handjob, praise, possessive behavior, small dick Scara, mild objectification/feminization?

You're not even sure if a puppet like him can feel tired, but that does seem to be the case tonight. He says "he's exhausted and needs a break from those Akademiya kids", and rolls over, facing away from you now.

You roll him back over and Scaramouche glares at you. He drapes an arm over his eyes and huffs.

Warm fingers dance over his exposed stomach, creeping up his chest, and sneaking underneath his cropped shirt that you so adore — the slutty turtleneck aspect of it drives you wild.

He swats your hand, and you pout. “I'm not in the mood, y/n.” he states.

In one swift movement, you roll over so that you're hovering over Scaramouche's body, gazing down at your beloved boyfriend as he gasps and narrows his eyes at you. “Get. Off.”

“Shh, rest now. If you're tired, I can do all of the work this time.”

Before he can retort, you're already scooting down between his legs, placing them on either side of your hips. You rub over his shorts, finding the outline of his dick and licking your lips as you grope it.

Another gasp and then a groan escapes him, he's protesting yet beginning to hump at your hand. He's surprised when he feels your lips brush against his, and the kiss stifles his questioning your actions.

Precum is already wetting the fabric between his legs, especially now that you're roughly stroking his cock through his shorts. Toying with the head to make his hips jerk like the cruel boyfriend you are.

“Mmph-no… I said I'm not in the m- mmfmn…” The puppet tries to say in between kisses. But you cut him off each time, sliding your tongue between his lips while you hold one of his hands down.

Scaramouche whines when you lift his hips up to remove his shorts. Now that his bottom half is fully naked, you can freely palm his erection, squeezing his balls every now and then. His little cock fits in your hand nicely, and you comment on it; “Mm you know I love jacking you off, yeah? Yeah, you fucking know how much it turns me on~” you drawl into your boyfriend's ear, in a low tone that does things to his sleepy, but now horny, brain.

“Fffuck– you're so wet. Look at that.” you lift your hand in front of his face, showing off the sticky mess in between your fingers. Scaramouche whines and tries to push you away, and you go right back to stroking him. He's sure that—if you continue on like this—he'll cum.

There's a throbbing between your legs — aching, desperate to feel a tight cunt wrapped around it. Scara feels it too. He must, since his hips keep grinding against it. Obviously, that means he wants it. Wants to be your little cock slut after a hard day of acting smarter than everyone else.

“Mhm… fuck, I wanna keep rubbing your dick, but– mm, but somethin' else needs attention.” At this, Scaramouche's eyes widen.

Whatever he was going to say devolved into pathetic whimpers and breathless "oh fuck's" as your thick cock sprang free from your pajamas, dripping with desire already. You do at least have the courtesy to finger his ass a bit, though your horniness shows when you roughly stretch his hole and spit on it before you push in.

“Aah! Oh f– haaah…” His moans sound so heavenly in your ear. You can feel your dick filling up his stomach as it slides in and out slowly. His body molds to whatever shape you want it to; pliant for you only.

Every roll of your hips shifts Scara's smaller body, sliding him up and down on the bed. He cranes his neck when you bury yourself in his ass and stay there for a minute, growling right next to his ear again, “Mmph-! T-tight… so tight-!”

Your lips ghost across his jawline, eventually kissing down his neck as you whisper; “I love fucking this pussy… all those Akademiya girls fantasize about you… mm, they probably wish you would dominate them in bed…” you tease, once again jerking his little cock while you fuck the puppet with slow but deep thrusts; “…but no one else gets to touch you… you're my doll, my pretty doll to touch and do with as I please, hm? Those girls could never fuck you like this– shiiiit… could never milk your dick like I do, right?” As you say that, Scaramouche cums in your hand, shivering as his warm cum fills your palm and dribbles onto his skin.

“Aww, did that feel good? See, what'd I tell you? Just lay there, let me do everything tonight…” Tears spill, and the puppet's body falls limp for a minute while he recovers. You're quick to wipe the tears away, petting Scara's hair and whispering more filthy praise that has him squirming and writhing in an adorable display.

Grinding your cock against his warm walls, another wave of pleasure crashes over you, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from sounding like a complete whore. You sit back up and gaze down at your boyfriend, caressing every inch of his skin.

You rut into his ass harder, so close to painting his insides white, and Scaramouche moans your name, finally bringing you over that edge– you can't stop there though; not when Scara's cunt is gripping your dick and drawing out a fat load of cum. No, tonight's fun isn't quite over yet…

[kensuio]

daddy wriothesley who kisses your cheek and then your belly every morning and he sees your cute little tummy growing bigger everyday with his baby girl inside.

daddy wriothesley who always wants to read your daughter stories and plays classical music as you fall sleep cause he wants her to grow up to be smarter than he is.

daddy wriothesley who sings your belly a little song everyday when you wake up because he believes it helps his daughter get used to hearing the sound of her daddy’s voice. (he totally didn’t find this online while researching “things to do before your baby is born”)

daddy wriothesley who cries when his baby girl is finally born into the world and he’s so happy to be holding her in his arms. he’s super gentle as he holds her very careful because his baby girl deserves the best care.

daddy wriothesley who buys every single outfit for his babygirl that has anything along the lines of “daddy’s girl” because he loves her so much, he just wants everyone else to know how much he loves her too.

daddy wriothesley who cries whenever your babygirl cries for whatever reason it may be. he just always wants to make sure his girl is alright and he can’t help but be a little emotional when he hears her quiet sniffles.

daddy wriothesley who comes home after a long day of work and can’t wait to see his two favorite girls when he gets home. he thought about it on the drive home with a big smile on his face.

daddy wriothesley who picks up his baby girl and kisses her on the cheek multiple times as she greets him at the door when it opened as came home from work.

daddy wriothesley who’s nervous when it’s time for her first day of school, he’s just so proud of his babygirl for reaching such a big milestone and she’s already growing up so fast.

daddy wriothesley who adores his daughter and always spoils her with affection, gifts, and love as much as he can. he’s just so in love with you and her, he would do anything to make the two of you guys smile. (even if it meant sacrificing the clothes on his back.)

[str4wkinzi]

NSFW CONTENT! MINORS DONT INTERACT!!

Your teacher comes over to your desk, putting one hand on your shoulder.

“Stay after class today.”

Teacher! fav x Reader :3 (comic said change it to any character)

COMIC’S BIRTHDAY BASH HERE!!

You wait in your seat after class, watching everyone else pack up and leave. He goes over to the door, closing and locking it.

“Your grades have been.. low. Is anything wrong?” He questions as he comes over to your desk.

You say no. Well, you try to say no. You look at him staring into your soul with those eyes. He’s your teacher, you shouldn’t think like this!

He snaps his fingers in your face. When did he get so close? He leans down, he’s so close to your face.

“I think i know what the problem is..” he whispers to himself as he stands up. You don’t hear it.

“Is it me? Are you.. distracted by me?” He says.

You could barely count the number of no’s that left your lips. No. That’s a lie. He knows it. You know it. But maybe you can…

“Maybe i need to… teach you how to pay attention in class.”

“You can suck cock better than that, sweetheart.” He groans with a slight chuckle.

You never thought you’d be sucking your teachers cock. Well, you thought about it, but who thought it would actually happen?

With his eyes burning into your helpless state. Head bobbing on his cock as his hips meet your lips.

He stops you.

“What’s the answer to this?” He asks, coming out more like a demand than a question.

You hold your fingers up, ‘five.’

You see him smile and grab your hair, lifting your head off his cock.

“That was too easy for you. We both know you’re smarter than basic math, right?”

You nod shyly as you await his next set of words.

“Let’s give you a real challenge.”

Bent over his desk, he asks you once more.

“Write down the fucking answer.” He demands between thrusts.

You write the answer on the paper, sloppily, but it’s there and its right. He chuckles and stops all movements.

“Answer this question correctly. This is the last one.”

You nod as you whine.

“Are you going to pay attention from now on?” He asks.

You nod frantically, practically breaking your neck trying too.

“Words.” Is all he says before he starts pounding to you. Your words get caught in your throat as he fucks them out of you.

Shaking, moaning, dripping mess. You yell ‘yes’ just as he hits your cervix.

“Yes what? What are you saying yes for?” He chuckles as his thrusts get harder.

You angrily whine and try to mutter out a slur of words.

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart.”

Fuck, he’s driving you insane.

“Yes, i’ll pay attention in class from now on.”

You wish it came out like that. It came out shaky and full of desperate moans. You could barely comprehend your own sentence.

“I’ll let you off easy this time.” He whispers in your ear as he thrusts impossibly harder then before.

Moans, groans, and lewd slapping fill the classroom. What if someone came back to get something they forgot?

A student and a teacher, fucking right over his desk. What if somebody heard your loud moans through the door?

Those are the thoughts you would be having if you weren’t so fucked out right now.

When you both eventually cum he helps you put all your clothes that he ripped off on.

He helps you walk out of the school and into his car. Along the way, you ask him where you two are going.

“Private lessons, of course. I’ll call your parents and say you needed them.”

STR4WZ STICKY NOTE < guys ive been going crazy.. imagine crying while writing smut its a really good experience - STR4WKINZI anyways everything is going out in the next 4-3 days (hopefully) cuz im not busy :3 except school ofc BYE I LOVE YOU GUYS 3

[navigatebetweenthelines]

Because a lot of you seem to be conflating intelligence to mean a single thing im going ro spell it out for you

DAZAI!

quick on his feet. He reads body language pretty well. he knows what to expect. His disadvantage is that he tends to project his own expectations onto others and this clouds his judgement. He is "intelligent" in the way thar he has a great capacity to improvise in tricky situations. He doesn't know everything he just always makes sure to have a plan B C D E F and G. Thats it

RANPO!

he knows all the facts about any given situation. His biggest disadvantages are that his judgement is shoddy at best and he doesn't always know what to do with that information. He is used to disregarding information for the sake of peace but that often means he ends up too close to the wrong people. He forgives EVERYONE he gives everyone a second chance. For as much as he sees the bad in a person he sees the good. He is unreliable and inconsistent. The good this about him is that as soon as he realizes his mistake he never makes it again.

POE!

JUSTTT as smart as Ranpo. He can GATHER as much information as Ranpo but it takes more effort. He has a lot of resources and technical know how. He knows technology, he knows politics, international law and most importantly people. His biggest advantage is that he knows exactly how to pressure people into doing what he wants. His mysteries are tailor made so that people can only escape when they realize what he wants them to. It is becuase of this that he saw society as a farce. That's why Ranpo and him are such a good team. Ranpo can see everything and Poe knows what to do with it.

Louisa!!!

She can slow down time when she's focused THAT'S her ability. She is capable of thinking of every possibility and coming up with dependable statistics. She's smarter than Dazai but less of an asset because her analysis relies on what she is aware of. In the world of BSD there is ALWAYS something no one is aware of. She isn't as capable of recovering quickly from a miscalculation so she really only has one shot.

Chuuya!!!

He doesnt need to use his intelligence most of the time because he can pretty much brute force his way out of most things. His intellegence relies on instinct. He has GREAT instincts. He knows when a situation has gone sour. Of course he doesnt usually verbalize it because with Dazai he doesn't need to and when he's alone why would he announce it to an enemy. He knows when he's safe and when he isn't. His biggest disadvantage is that he doesn't always listen to those instincts. In terms of priorities he almost always puts himself last and that leads to a lot of problems.

NIKOLAI!!!

Nikolai is similar to Chuuya except a bit more extreme because no one's life is his priority. His motivations are unclear and he always goes for the most imoral option. He isn't concerned with a specific desired outcome it is the inconsistency of his own actions that drive him.

FYODOR!!!

Kinda like Poe, in that he knows how to work people, but to a lesser extent and a little like the chameleon that Dazai can be but to a greater extent: he KNOWS people. He knows what a person wants more than anything and he promises that to them.

His biggest advantage is that he is smart enough to ally himself with people who have nothing else to live for. Sigma, Nikolai, Bram (before Aya), Nathaniel and Fukuchi are all outsiders. They are alone but desperately want to feel like they belong. Fyodors biggest disadvantage is that if those people find belonging elsewhere his influence on them shatters. He seems to be aware of that? Idk it's too soon to tell.

Mori!!!

He isn't crazy smart. He's just sadistic and cruel. He picks easy targets (children) and slowly takes away their agency. He undoes them until they have nothing to live for and they then become perfectly obedient adults. His biggest disadvantage is that he relies on the chain of abuse and that isn't sustainable as a dynamic for power. Chuuya and Akutagawa have no one above them to preassure them to listen to orders now that Dazai is gone. Also the extreme amounts of abuse he relies on is impossible to ditch out to EVERYONE. That's why he relied on the chain of abuse but that's failing. Mori isn't smart. He's a coward. He takes the shortest path no matter the resistance.

FUKUCHI!!

isn't smart either. He is just THE BEST chameleon. He hid in plain sight. He knows war and war tactics. He's a great spy and facilitating a strong bond with the target is a spy strategy.

They are not all the same stop conflating their perspectives as "knows everything". It leads to a lot of misunderstandings and a lot of misinformation. DAZAI IS NOT RANPO! He doesnt know everything. He's just really good at pretending he does.

[rinaforpages]

how (not) to survive academic invalidation

park gunwook x reader

hahahha...

using the american hs system bcs wow! im american... (i half wrote this at the end of last school yr so)

warnings: swearing, self-deprecation (obv), yn hits themself, angst with a bit of fluff at the end, reader is actually smart but surrounds themself with geniuses.

2.6k words

________________________________

# 1 dont compare yourself

"junior year kicks everyones ass." you wanted to kick whoever said that ass. not only was the school work kicking your ass, your friends and classmates seemed to be doing just fine.

they were working on ap chemistry minus laura and gunwook who were working on ap environmental science, and you, who took neither of those classes, felt extremely out of place, doing your ap us history homework.

"whats species richness again?" laura asked gunwook, who quickly answered her question. you looked up, planning to ask the soon-to-be early graduate a question, only to see him helping sarah with a chemistry problem.

you weren't like them and you despised that. your friends were top of the class, an average of a 4.4 gpa, an early graduate (and first in the 2024 class overall) and there you sat with your measly 3.75. they were in 3-4 ap classes, and you sat there, struggling through your 2. (in your defense, ap lang and apush are the two hardest aps juniors could take).

you didnt excel in any way shape or form. they had just about an a in every class (minus ryan in french, who had a b), and a b was your most common grade.

a good 10 minutes later you had finished struggling through apush, you moved on to mandarin. you were the only one who took mandarin, everyone else opting for french. the characters jumbled your brain as your friends spoke in french, seemingly coming easy to them.

you heard footsteps walk by, and ricky laid a hand on your shoulder, looking over. "thats wrong." he said simply. the french kids careened their necks to look at you. he grabbed your pencil and wrote the right character, then walked away. you hummed as you circled the characters you didnt know, opting to ask zhang hao over bothering ricky again.

"you ok over there?" gunwook asked. you scowled.

"i dont understand why there are so many idioms! im losing my goddamn mind." parker laughed, mumbling that you chose the language. you couldnt (or didnt want to) voice your doubts as you thought you could.

as they focused their attention on their homework again, you waved over zhang hao, who hanbin had asked to help cut fruits for you and your friends. he set down a plate in front of you, then sat down.

"what does 开夜车 mean zhang hao please im gonna kill myself." he laughed as hanbin looked up, extremely concerned.

"you know 熬夜, right?" you nodded "so its kind of like that but youre doing work. it literally means burn the midnight oil" you thanked him as he patted your head, pulling the plate of fruit away from your friends and toward you, gunwook making a sound of discontent.

you sighed, packing up your bag at a text from your oldest brother. he was home from his masters program in germany, apparently, and was now waiting outside the dorm. you loved your older brothers, you really did, but they were so much smarter than you ever will be. the oldest graduated magna cum laude from mit, now achieving an accelerated masters for mechanical engineering, and the younger was attending harvard for premed, both completely full ride.

your friends, finally re-noticing you, looked up. "where are you going?" gunwook asked, shushing yujin.

"brothers here," you mumbled, not wanting to wreck your self-esteem any more than you had. sarah pouted, but nodded, whipping out her phone. gunwook opened his mouth, but then quickly closed it. "bye hao, thanks for the help. bye, hanbin and jiwoong!" the three oldest members waved back, hanbin hugging you as you walked by. when you got in your fathers' car that your brother was driving, you spilled your guts.

# 2 dont fall behind

at some point, your motivation fell through. all you wanted to do was lie down and stare at the ceiling all day. sadly though, education laws (and school rules) prevailed.

as you trudged up the stairs from last lunch to pre-calculus, you cursed the architects of the three-floor building and whoever required you to go to school.

two of your friends—laura and ryan—had junior priv, which meant they left early. sarah and coral (who had missed the study session) were in ap chem, and gunwook left for a shoot. without your friends to motivate you to work harder, you felt there was nothing left for you to do.

you had fallen asleep in mandarin earlier that day, so why were you still exhausted?

quick answer: you had stayed up late finishing your apush bonus points.

actual answer: you had no motivation to do anything.

you were falling behind on homework: what used to be doing homework as soon as you got home turned into doing it right before class. a teacher had approached your freshman-year english teacher about it, the one teacher who you could talk easily to. yujin was standing right there; they mustve not have realized you two knew each other.

ricky and zhang hao had invited you over for a cdrama binge session. (ricky said "itll help you" in his texts.) but yujin quickly pulled you aside.

"youre falling behind?" he asked, pointedly. you sighed, nodded, opening your mouth to reply as gunwook walked by, asking what you were doing.

"nothin! ricky and hao invited me over." the words rushed out, and they were so not convincing, but gunwook shrugged and moved to sit down beside ricky and gyuvin. you hushed yujin and walked over and sat down beside hao. gunwook stared at you.

"come here." he motioned, shoving ricky off the couch. you hesitated as you made eye contact ricky, but eventually, there were only so many thumps against the couch you could take. "see? more comfortable over here" you hit him, and he let out a yelp.

"do you have much homework, yn?" taerae asked, setting down a bowl of popcorn.

"only a couple of classes," you replied, shoving a kernel in your mouth.

matthew laughed, "the usual suspects, im guessing?" you nodded. gunwook threw a (toned) arm around you as the two chinese members debated the drama.

"how much have you done? its sunday." gunwook asked, lightly, rubbing circles on your arm with his thumb.

"i can do it all tonight and tomorrow." you sighed, the sentence reminding you of where you are in school. gunwook hummed.

"make sure you get sleep, though. you need sleep, its not healthy if you dont." fuck. you were in deep shit in two ways. you were falling deeper into your rut, and you were falling deeper in love with your childhood best friend.

# 3 dont be too hard on yourself

...was easier said than done. your mind cursed you every time you got a bad grade. you wondered what was the point: you werent good enough to get into the likes of yale, or any of your colleges for that matter.

you had long since fallen off the ladder. it had injured you your 8th-grade year, and every attempt to climb back to where you were or any pushing from a 3rd party proved futile, as you only slipped and fell back down again.

the sat was fast approaching, and every practice test you did was never where you wanted them to be. every stupid math problem you got wrong brought a punch to your head. you had called gunwook, only realizing when he didnt pick up that he was in a shoot. panicked, you hung up before the voicemail. when he called you back (10 times with his members also calling you), you opted to ignore it. it was getting late, anyhow, and you had to go in early for apush in the morning.

apush lab made you want to kill yourself. sarah sat next to you, but everything always seemed to favor her. the quizzes, the teacher. it was unfair, really. american history was supposed to be your thing. so why were you struggling? after lab, sarah asked you what was wrong. "gunwook had called us in a panic because you didn't pick up." you shook your head, lying through your teeth.

"i had a question, but then passed the fuck out like 5 minutes later." sarah laughed and nodded, saying she was glad you got proper sleep, mumbling something about the aforementioned friend. when you asked, she waved you off, the man himself standing outside your classroom. he swung an arm around you as sarah walked in the opposite direction to her next class. he asked you the same thing. you lied to him too, but he looked less convinced. he didnt press you further, though, as you two began to walk down the stairs to your creative writing workshop—a senior elective you had begged your guidance counselor to take. gunwook took it to fill spots in his schedule.

the teacher loved him. as did everyone. you wondered if you could ever experience that. your oldest friend was everything you weren't and it was a point of contention inside your mind. you cursed yourself that you were nothing like him. gunwook nudged you in the middle of class when you were given an opportunity to work, asking what was wrong.

"i know thats not why you called me and then didn't pick up. you're also in your head right now." he pointed out, softly. you hummed, scribbling down something in your notebook.

"i just... i had a question but it was stupid. i figured it out." he looked at you pointedly, a look that told you to tell him the truth. "seriously! im ok!" he nodded, grabbing your hand for a squeeze.

# 4 do your best

you were nervous. ok nervous was an understatement. you rocked from heel to toe as you awaited the announcement that the doors were open. your friends chattered nervously around you. for them, this was the first time they were taking the sat. this was your second. you had gotten a 1340 on your first try—nowhere near where you wanted it to be. your brothers had gotten 1600 and 1590, respectively.

you were on call with all your friends the night before, gunwook coaching you guys through certain questions. he had texted you, (only you, but you didnt know that) wishing you luck. ricky and zhang hao had wished you luck as well.

everything seemed like bricks in your bag. it was only a couple of things—a computer, for the digital sat, a pencil, a calculator, a water bottle, and a banana. but it felt like you had hundreds of textbooks in your bag for no reason at all.

the doors swung open, and you rushed up to your assigned room. the setup was a blur, and the reading section seemed to be so too. during the break, your friends voiced similar opinions. then, during math, you began to struggle. somewhere along the way, though, gunwook popped into your head. you dont know if it was   because you wanted to make him proud, or you didnt want to disappoint your oldest friend and crush, but it worked. you powered through module 1 and 2, module 2 being the toughest one by far.

when the results came back two weeks later, you waited with baited breath as your friends skipped class with you to check all of your scores. gunwook held your hand as you refreshed the page.

"i dont want to look." you said, hiding your face in his chest.

"ill look for you." he mumbled into your hair, scrolling down. you felt him smile into the crown of your head, "i knew you could do it, sweetheart." you looked, and a big glaring 1590 stared back at you.

"wook!! holy shit a 1590!!" you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

# 5 talk about it

you sat with your friends and the members as you awaited gunwook's family's arrival. gunwook smiled from his seat on the gymnasium floor, holding up his phone. almost on instinct, you all checked your own.

wook🩵: this'll be you guys next year. ill be up there watching you all.

sarah burst in to tears. laura full on sobbed, and ryan and carols eyes were brimming with tears. as you read the text again and again, you got a separate text.

wook🩵: i'm proud of you y'know? i saw you struggling a bit at the end there but you made it through. i love you, yn. im glad to call you my friend.

i love you i love you i-

"hey yn sweetheart!" gunwooks mom sat next to you. his brother waved, and his father gave you a curt nod.

"hi. you guys must be excited." his mom laughed, nodding, then shoving your shoulder.

"im more excited about something else." you opened your mouth to ask her what, but the ceremony started

giving gunwook his graduation flowers made him blush. he shook his head. "do you not like them, wook? i thought theyre your favorites." he shook his head again, dropping the flowers into his mom's hands, grabbing your face.

"you are clueless, yknow that? i gave you so many hints. everyone knows." when you asked him what he meant, "yn, you didnt think id notice you putting yourself down? you know i cant fucking stand that. sorry mom. it kills me that the love if my life doesnt realize how fucking amazing they are, and it kills me that they dont realize that im in love with them." at this point, you dont know what you were doing. because gunwook was confessing to you that he both likes you and that he knows about your self-deprication. so now, surrounded by friends and seniors, gunwooks family and members, you kissed him.

it wasnt like anything you had imagined. your first kiss, you mean. peering seniors were waved off by shouts from matthew and gunwooks brother—both burly enough that even the biggest varsity football players would shrink away.

gunwook smiled on your lips as your friends cheered amongst themselves. you heard a loud "闭嘴!" from zhang hao to what you presume was ricky chatting with the senior mandarin class. when you broke off, gasping for air, gunwook tore off his graduation gown, pushing it onto his poor unsuspecting leader. he grabbed your arm, and the two of you sprinted as fast as you could.

out the gymnasium doors, out back by the cafeteria, through the back-woods path. he stopped when he was sure no one would follow him.

"so whats going on? with the whole." he gestured to your head. you knew what he meant, so you nodded. you told him everything, how you compared yourself to everyone, especially your friends and brothers, you were falling behind, your motivation was close to 0, and you never really believed that you could do it. he was quiet for a while. you knew he was trying to find the right words.

you wanted to cry, or throw up, probably both. it felt like the trees and the birds and your boyfriend? were judging you. but gunwook just apologized, for not noticing sooner, for not knowing how to help. you shook your head, tears threatening to fall, but he shook his too.

"no, no, im your best friend, yn, i need to be here for you. im serious, you have people to rely on, you dont have to shoulder this all by yourself." the tears threatening to fall were not a threat anymore, and the dam broke. gunwook grabbed the back of your head, pulling you into a hug.

—

mandarin guide:

开夜车: kai ye che, lit. burn the midnight oil

熬夜: ao ye, stay up late

闭嘴: bi zui, shut up/close your mouth

[princessbellecerise]

Snow With A Bimbo Reader

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | Coryo loves how dumb you are. It makes him look even smarter

warnings | toxic!coryo, dumb!reader, slight innocent!reader, smut, slight housewife!reader

this is an eighteen plus fic. minors do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

When he first met you at the academy, it was safe to say that from the moment he saw you, Snow was obsessed

You weren’t in the same class as him, though there was really no reason you ought to be because you were not nearly as smart as the other students, but he still noticed you in some classes

Coryo figured that your parents must have bought your way in, because bless your heart you are so dumb

When he first meets you, it’s almost pitiful how he notices that you’re nowhere near his academic level, but that’s okay because you sure are pretty

And despite being insanely attracted to power and intelligence, Coryo finds himself focusing all his attention on you

He can’t think of anything else in class other than the way your pretty little face scrunches up because you’re not understanding any of it, or the way your lips pout because you’re beyond lost

You’re just so beautifully stupid and cute and Coryo can’t stop thinking about how he can’t wait to get his claws into you

So at first he starts by tutoring you as way to get closer to you

God knows that you need it, and when he offers of course you accept because hello—everyone knows that Snow is on top

So, he begins to tutor you, and that’s all it is at first

A few flirty remarks here and there, like him telling you your hair looks pretty or your outfit fits you nice

Nothing too crazy, but the more time Coryo spends with you, the more you drive him insane

He has amazing self control because even though he wants to do nothing but grab you and kiss you the entire time you’re talking, he holds himself back

He takes it slow as to not scare you or confuse your dumb little mind. After all, you can only process so much

Which is why he doesn’t actually tutor you—not the hard stuff anyways. He just finds little easy thing for you to accomplish so he can watch as your face lights up when you solve something he’s done a million times before

He builds you up before he plans on breaking you down, before he plans on molding you into his perfect partner

Coryo will gain your trust at first and only when he’s got it will he strike

Like a snake, you don’t even see his plan or see him coming until he’s right there in front of you, poisoning you with his sweet lips and kissing you one day

It comes so sudden for you that you’re shocked, not even kissing him back till he’s squeezing your jaw a little so you let him in

He’ll kiss you deeply so that you can feel what he feels for you, so that you know just how desperately he wants you

Through his lips, he’ll spread his venom, and since you’re not smart enough to even know that you’ve been bit, you fall for it easily

You kiss him back, and your giggles when you pull away make Coryo smirk. He loves seeing you nervous around him and fuck; does he love tasting your pretty lips

Once you start agree to start dating him, it’s already too late for you. And for Coryo, it’s just the beginning

Coryo already has plans that you’re not apart of, but he’s excited to carry them out because you are everything that he needs

He needs someone that won’t question him, that will obey him and do everything he says. He needs to be in charge and with you, he is

Like a good little girl, you do everything Coryo tells you to do. Miss class for him, sit on his lap, stop doing your assignments

Pretty soon, he’s got it to where all you do is hang out with him. Make plans with him. Do things for him

He’s got you wrapped around his finger and you don’t even know it. You’re just so happy with him that you don’t even question it when he tells you to quit

“Leave the academy and I’ll take care of you. I promise,” Is what Coryo says, so you do

You stop attending class, you drop out and slowly you move from your home to be with Coryo in his

It’s a little packed, but you make it work especially with Tigris and his grandmother

They both adore you, though Tigris is a little concerned with you dropping out. She’ll try and persuade you to continue your education but don’t worry—Coryo will never let that happen

When you tell him Tigris’ words, he simply scoffs and tells you that pretty girls like you don’t belong in academics. You don’t belong in that terrible, toxic work force

No, no, you deserve to stay home and to serve him. An easy job, he convinces you, and a soft life

“It’s what you deserve,” He tells you, so you give up on the idea of returning

Instead, you stay at home and wait for Coryo day and night. During the days, you’ll cook, clean and during the nights you’ll be there for him

In the privacy of your now shared bedroom is where he fucks you, the mattress squeaking from how hard he pounds into your tight cunt

Coryo loves it when you whine and beg, crying out how he’s too big for you

He loves to hear you praise him and for you to stroke his ego. With a hand wrapped around your throat, he’ll fuck you until you’re screaming his name into the mattress and until you realize that you belong to him

The love bites and marks he leaves on your thighs are a constant reminder. He tells you that you should be lucky, grateful that you don’t have to use your head anymore

Grateful to have someone like him to take care of you, and you are. Coryo gives you a life that people can only dream about

Once he becomes President of Panem, you’re spoiled with riches that you didn’t even know existed. Diamonds, silks, luxurious foods

And the best part is, all you have to do is smile and wave. After all, you are his best asset

[dangerousduckcloud]

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

Read it also on AO3

“Don’t scream, bitch.” Your breath caught in your throat, the night wind cold in your face, a single lit blinking streetlight on top of you lighting up the street, the rest covered in darkness. “The boss will be happy to see you again.”

Chapter 11 < > Chapter 13

Masterlist

taglist: @kurai-hono-blog @katrina0-0 @readingfictionnothingelse @lookingforsyd

If anyone else would like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

This chapter took me a bit later to update than usual because a lot of changes (nothing bad) happened on my life, so I didn't have much time to be on my computer, but things are settling down now!

You couldn’t continue with the conversation, what else could you say? The boldness you’d felt disappeared as suddenly as it appeared, being replaced by shame that soon overcame your body, taking its rightful place in the part of your brain that fed of the worst possible outcomes your mind could think of at his lack of reply.

Because he didn’t even try to reply, to try and say something only to come out empty and leave it like that. No. He never even tried it, as the writing status never showed up (Not like you had spent half an hour looking at the screen in hopes of a response…).

He was certainly content with leaving it like that.

With a disappointed sigh, your gaze moved from the empty notification box on the phone to the droning voice in the background of the room, the weather cast of yet another raining week in Gotham. Why did they even bother? It rained every week in Gotham.

Letting your hand drop to the bed, you left the phone somewhere around the sheets, searching for the tv remote, surfing channels until you could find something mildly interesting.

“—llionaire Bruce Wayne, it sure is a wonder how he’s managed to keep his company afloat.” The host said, the show was one of those evenings gossip programs that only helped to spread rumors about famous people. “Must be from all the air in his head.” Fake, canned laughs accompanied the lame joke. “Seriously, who in their right mind hands seventy percent of responsibilities of their multi-billionaire company to their seventeen-year-old son? It’s only a matter of time before he drives it to bankruptcy.”

Your lip curled at hearing the presenter talk trash about Tim, if only they knew he was as smart —if not maybe even smarter— than Batman, they wouldn’t be talking shit. Tim could physically and mentally outsmart everyone watching the program right now. Hell, even the leader of the League of Assassins was so impressed by his smarts he wanted to work with him.

Huh, did Tim still had his spleen? You should make a note of asking him later.

A muffled ding from your phone had your heart beating fast, looking under the covers to find the device and check if he’d finally replied. You did have a message, but the sender, as well as the content, made you frown.

              | Come down to the cave.

It read. A second text popping up a few seconds later.

              | Please.

It was unusual of him to say his ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s, so you assumed it must be something important to him to say it. You stood up, not wanting to leave the kid waiting, switching your sandals for sneakers, as the cave tended to be quite cold, especially late in the evenings.

When you got down there, you couldn’t see anyone, specially since patrol wasn’t going to start until a couple of hours later, when the family would come down here to warm up before going out. Was he simply pranking you? You scoffed at being forced to get up from your comfy bed for nothing, turning around to go back to your room.

“Hiya!” A voice said from behind, hitting you on your arm with a cheap, plastic sword.

“Damian!” you groaned, rubbing your arm with the tip of your fingers. It didn’t really hurt; it was mostly the anger at being hit. “What the hell?”

“I gave away my location with a cry of war, you should have been able to block it.”

“Yeah, well, ‘s not like I was expecting to get jumped at here.”

“And that was your mistake.” He said, walking towards the training area, leaving the toy on the floor. “I shall rectify that for our next outing to the city in our civilian identities, shall we get confronted with an unfortunate situation once again.”

He took off his shoes, his socked feet bouncing slightly on the training mats, waiting for you to do the same. Your head tilt lightly to the left, the meaning behind his words dawned on you.

“You want to teach me self-defense?” The tip of his ears’ turning pink was enough answer for you, walking up to hug him. “Aww, Damian! I knew you cared!”

“Let go of me, dolt. I am only doing this to avoid another hostage situation that impedes the imprisonment of criminals.” You let him go, the kid dusting his clothes of any visible dust, with you feeling guilty at being reminded that Two-Face escaped because of you. “Now, remove your shoes so that we can begin.”

“But I’m not wearing gym clothes.” Your loose, red t-shirt, and black, cargo pants were probably the worst thing to train with.

“It is preferable to be wearing something you are most likely to wear if another incident were to happen, that way it doesn’t impede you from fighting back.” You hummed, using the tip of your foot to remove your shoes, not bothering to untie them.

The blue mat underneath you was firm. If you were to fall with even the least of force, it will most likely hurt for a second, but nothing that’ll do any kind of damage.

“Alright, what now?”

“You have been held at gunpoint already, but trying to disarm an armed man is the least thing you should do unless you are highly trained in martial arts like us.”

You frowned, kicking your right foot on the mat.

“So, what am I gonna learn, then?”

“Tt. I thought you were smarter. I just told you. Martial arts.”

You stood rooted in your spot. Damian Al-Ghul Wayne, grandson of the Demon’s Head, son of Batman, was going to teach you to fight?

“You want to teach me crime fighting?”

“No. Todd would endlessly hunt me if I did that— I am simply teaching you self-defense, whatever you decide to do with that knowledge is up to you.”

“What’s got Jason to do with— Umph!” Damian didn’t give you the opportunity to finish, instead, his foot swiftly knocking you on your back, the air leaving your lungs. You were right, the fall did hurt even on the padded mat. “Why?” You groaned, accepting his had to help you back up.

“You need to improve your surroundings awareness, but we can work on that during the day. Now, copy my movements.”

You did regular warming up exercises first, until he began to swiftly swing his arms as if to punch someone, going all the way out and then snapping them back in, going slow and then gradually upping the pace. While doing so, Damian thoroughly explained the exercise —the hook punch— would help you build muscle and getting your shoulders strong.

Once Damian was satisfied with your punches, he moved on to teaching you an uppercut, a right kick, side kick and a front back kick, first doing them in the air, moving to the training dummies, to a kick pad he was holding to teach you precision.

You were spent. Your shoulders hurt with the tiniest of movements, you were sure your knuckles were slightly bleeding from under the bandages, your legs were pulsating, tiny needles pricking you everywhere.

You felt like you wanted to nap for a thousand years, while Damian was barely sweating, taking a sip of his water, another bottle left on the floor next to your head, a straw pointed at you.

Lolling your head, you took the straw into your mouth, moaning once the refreshing water touched the desert it was your lips, an oasis for your broken body.

Damian sat down next to you, legs outstretched and his arms supporting him behind him. “He likes you too.”

“Who?” You asked, unsure if the two of you had been talking about someone and your brain didn’t register it.

“Todd. I had never seen him so upset when a civilian was in danger.”

Then why hadn’t he responded to your last message? It’s not like he didn’t know where you were all day, every day, to come and talk. And as much as you would like to believe love at first sight was real, it simply wasn’t. You two hadn’t spent that much time together for him to develop any kind of feelings, you wanted to believe there’s a possibility he might consider you attractive, but that was it.

“It’s simply because he knows me. I’m sure he would’ve been the same had it been you, or Cass, or Steph.”

“It has been us already, in our line of work it is not uncommon to be held at gunpoint; he worries, of course, but not like he did with you.”

Do not listen to Damian your mind screamed. But why not? your heart begged.

“It’s… different, Dami. He knows you’re capable of taking care of yourselves, I’m just a normal person, not a vigilante. I don’t know what to do in that situation.”

“Tt. What will it be? He would’ve been the same if it was us, or he does not worry as he is aware of our capabilities? Cloud your judgment with poor reasoning as much as you want. That is not the truth.”

Why were you so hellbent on not considering the possibility that maybe, just maybe he did like you? Every time the idea crossed your mind, your pulse quickened, and you felt empty. You always thought it was nervousness, excitement, maybe even hope.

But it was quite obvious if you thought about it for more than one second; it was fear.

Fear of having your feelings reciprocated, fear of having something real and having it taking away in an instant. You don’t belong here, you’ll leave and you can’t take that love home with you; they’re going to forget you, move on like they do from every single weird plight they’re drag to every month or so, while you’ll be left hollowed out with the longing of a life you’ll never be able to have.

“Ready for tomorrow?” You changed topics, heavily lifting your body until you were sitting, legs crossed, it pained you to do the simplest of movements, slowly closing and opening your hand to try and get rid of the pain. Damian had grabbed the plastic sword again, swinging it around as if it were a real one, his strikes to the dummy getting harsher at the mention of school.

“It is just a waste of my time, time I could be spending patrolling. Father does not allow me to go out during the week. Do you know how many cases I could be helping with?”

His last strike to the dummy broke the sword, the clattering of the plastic muffled by the training mat.

“Come on, school’s not that bad. I’m sure there’s some interesting clubs you can join, why don’t you check them out tomorrow?”

“Whatever…”

He picked up the broken part of the sword, checking to see if he could probably glue it back together. He walked past you, to where you’d seen some crates positioned to the far end wall. You’d finished your water already, but with doing more exercise this night than your whole life, you wanted to drink a whole river, however, that meant getting up and walking all the way to—

“Don’t scream, bitch.” Your breath caught in your throat, the night wind cold in your face, a single lit blinking streetlight on top of you lighting up the street, the rest covered in darkness. “The boss will be happy to see you again.”

No, no, no, no. That voice, that cold, metallic barrel on the back of your head couldn’t be real, they’re gone, behind bars and with several broken bones, courtesy of Red Hood.

Where was Jason?

Jason, Jason.

JASON.

You were back on the dingy basement, blood curling screams shattering the heavy atmosphere, steps were getting closer and closer from everywhere, echoing around the dilapidating walls.

“You thought you could escape?” A voice said, warping into a raspy, warbled voice reverberating all around you, eerie and screeching. “You can’t escape from the Scarecrow.”

The disembodied voice took form, a burlap mask with black, empty eyes that never stopped looking at you, even when he had his back to you, neck twisting like an owl’s.

“This will hurt, Jane.” He grabbed your arms, screaming in your face, the hold fickle until the palms were barely touching you, your name being called over and over again, but the voice wasn’t gnarled anymore, it was distant, raspy but childish-like.

“Jane!” It called again. Your vision was blurry, unfocused, bright blue lights enveloping you, the screams fading until they turned into a constant hum you’d learned to tune out. Through your tears, blurry green eyes met yours, but those were not the ones you wanted to see, these ones were harsh, cognizant, and hopeful, hiding his panic behind a green ocean. “Jane, you are safe. You are in the Batcave. I am Damian Wayne, not the Scarecrow.”

“Damian?” He nodded. “I—What happened? I wanted more water and then… Then I was there.”

“I am not sure. You had a panic attack, but I do not know what caused it.”

You screwed your eyes shut, trying to remember what the cause could’ve been. “I felt something, on the back of my head.” With a shaking hand, you prodded behind your head, feeling nothing but your hair and sweaty neck. “That’s when I heard the voices.”

Damian’s eyes widened, biting his bottom lip, looking at something behind you, following his gaze to see the taped-up sword discarded on the floor.

“I did not know.” His voice wavered the slightest bit. “I simply wished to annoy you, but when I put the sword to your head… You froze up, trembling and begging. I did not mean to cause such a reaction.”

You took a deep breath, calming your racing heart. Damian wasn’t here when you tried to escape, and knowing how great this family was at communicating, it was safe to assume no one had informed him of the kidnapping.

It was hard to be mad at him for something it wasn’t his fault (although you wanted to, for bringing you back to that moment), hell, you didn’t even know something like this could’ve happen, and with him looking so lost, out of the loop and believing it was his fault, you could barely hold the sentiment of anger. He looked so miserable, almost as much as you did. “I did not know that could happen.” Damian whispered, more to convince himself that this was an accident than anything else, and sat down away from you, afraid he would do something else to cause another panic attack.

With your heavy arms, you opened them, inviting him to hug you. The kid was wary, getting up a couple of centimeters. “Would you please hug me?” You knew you had to make him believe he was only doing it because you were distressed —which you were, a lot—, knowing he wouldn’t do it out of his own volition for not wanting to be seen as weak. Only when you said please did he stood up, sitting next to you, his arms encircling you in a way it showed he wasn’t used to hugging people and thus didn’t know how.

You hugged him tightly, resting your head on his hair, his head burrowing on your shoulder. You needed this as much as he did.

“Where… Did you go?” His voice was soft and doubtful in a way you’d never heard him speak. “You said that you were ‘there’.”

Taking a deep breath, you began explaining to him how unsafe you felt at the begging of all this, thinking you’d been kidnapped, and how you escaped only to actually be kidnapped.

“I am not surprised Drake did not bother to explain the situation. His incompetence is not surprising.” He scoffed, a light chuckle coming out of you. Midway during the explanation, you both laid down on the floor, some bats flying on the roof from time to time. “Are you… Will you inform Grayson of what happened?”

“Hm?” You were looking at a bat perched on the ceiling, cleaning its wings.

“I will understand if you do, and I will take any punishment you deem fit for my blunder.”

“What?” You turned to look at him. “Damian, I—Yeah, I will tell him, but not to accuse you or anything, just to let him know that things like that can provoke bad flashbacks for me, but you won’t be reproved for an accident.”

He nodded, turning his gaze back to the bats. What did he had to endure to believe that he had to be punished for a mistake? For something he had no control over and had no way of knowing it would happen? From what you’d gathered, he’d been here for at least a year, maybe a bit more. It wasn’t easy to understand the way you’d been brought up wasn’t the right one, to forget everything you’d been taught to in the span of a year, but his reaction made you think that not much had changed since he moved in to the manor.

You would have to pay more attention to the way he was treated around with everyone.

The silence that came upon was disturbed the sound of a motorcycle’s engine, only one person who could belong to. You both stood up, with Damian running to the parking pad.

“Akhi.” Damian greeted him. Jason got off the bike, taking off his helmet, his soft curls were all over the place, the tips wet with sweat. Did they have a heater in here or why were you feeling warmer?

“Hey, Demon Spawn.” Despite being a harsh nickname —and one would think it was because Jason didn’t like him—, it was the opposite, a warm smirk on his face, messing up Damian’s hair. “Oh, hey, Jane, what are you two doing down here?”

“Dami’s teaching me to defend myself.”

“Mmh.” Damian agreed. “I taught her five moves; she is a quick learner. I could have taught her more, but her brittle body had to take a break. Of course, I can still go on.”

It couldn’t be a compliment from Damian if it wasn’t also veiled as an insult.

“Really? You plannin’ on joining us on patrol now?”

Despite de carefree attitude, he was slightly tense.

“Not in a million years.” You chuckled, and the deep sigh leaving his lungs did not go unnoticed. “Just in case I get taken hostage again. The universe travelling agency didn’t mention anything about high crime rates.”

“That’s Gotham for you. Hey, is Dickhead here? Got some intel about the trafficking case.”

“He’s off planet with the League.” You replied nonchalantly, when had that become a normalcy in your life? “I’ll go find Tim; Dick left him in charge.”

“I will go.” Damian quickly piped up. “He should have been here already preparing for patrol.”

Without waiting for a response, he ran towards the stairs, and up to Bruce’s office.

The little shit left you and Jason alone on purpose.

[1427]

dirge

Boyd Crowder X OFC (Beatle)

Setting: in the WoOoOods (Justified Season 1, with Boyd’s militia)

Summary: Boyd is sick of being full of shit. When one of the recruits for his new flock seems to see him for who he really is, he decides it might not be so bad to let her.

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: CHARACTER DEATH, Boyd Crowder is Boyd Crowder, mentions of white nationalism, mentions of methamphetamine, religious imagery and references, mentions of militias, cults, and Boyd comparing himself to Christ (see above). NSFW WARNINGS; poooooooorly written smut, somno, rough fucking, unprotected piv, references to oral, jerking off, mentions of religion being used in sexual roleplay. mentions of other truly questionable roleplay scenarios, free-use dynamics

A/n: I started watching Justified a few days ago and Boyd Crowder really is one of the characters of all time, isn't he? Beatle is my OC who likes speed and sometimes sells it and sometimes strips but I obviously couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if Beatle had been in one of those trailers he’d held looking for people to follow his cause. Especially since she's just absolutely fucking dazzled by charm and confidence and she'd love him in a way he'd probably never been loved before. Couldn't not write it & I broke my own heart.

Inb4 I disappear for 3 months again

18+ mdni 

✞

Boyd didn't think his daddy would hang her up there with the rest of them. 

She was special, didn't he know that? Couldn't he tell? 

Her hair’s never smelled like gunpowder before. It's more a feeling than a smell, and it stings but he's grateful that it hurts. He deserves it. 

Boyd didn't think his daddy would do any of this. But he wasn't thinking, was he? He should have seen it coming, should have known. Not ‘should have’ in the way that hindsight is 20/20 and you can make wanton wishes about the past; no Boyd should have because he does know better. He's smarter than to let something like this happen.

✞

When he got out of prison he knew he was full of shit. Same shit he'd always been full of. He figures it ain't really like lyin’ so much if everyone knows you're never showing your real face. Talking is more like a game. Trying to spit the words out around the secret biting between his teeth. Secrets? He figures he's allowed to have those. Like what his intentions might have really been when he'd started recruiting junkies to be saved. Be his flock. 

Different vocabulary, same game, same moves, same outcome. 

Boyd did think that there would be a different outcome this time. Everyone always ends up dead, but how could that happen this time? He knows that putting a gun to someone's head and mocking them into sobriety ain't exactly safe and its definitely not legal but it's what works. Who could rightly question his methodologies if he was getting such socially acceptable results? 

The point (as the point of things usually is for Boyd) is that there are enough qualifiers for him to feign confusion and innocence at any question of his motivations. Like he was so damn good at. Boyd had a reply for anything. A defense for everything he'd ever done. Everything he'd ever do. Else he wouldn't be caught doing it. 

This time was easier. This time actually felt like it could be something more. That even though he was using his knowledge of the human condition, and its drive to follow a strong and confident leader, that this time he was doing it for something good at least.

How could getting rid of meth in Harlan county be bad? Boyd asks himself that a lot these days. Whenever he starts wondering how full of shit he is again. And he tells himself it doesn't matter if he's lying about every damn thing, even to himself, if he's getting people clean and following the Lord. 

He doesn't feel that guilty, though. Not enough to really do anything different. His flock is his flock, and when he talks about God he makes sure to word it just right. So they hear it and they think of him. Boyd’s teachings are their gospels, and sometimes Boyd quotes scripture so he can call on God like he's name-dropping a celebrity. It's what works. It's what always worked.

If you’re good at saying the right thing to the right person you can get just about anything you want. If you're good at finding the perfect time to say it, you can keep it. Gettin’ stuff is no good if you can't keep it. That's what all these Dixie boys always got wrong about business. Hell, what everyone got wrong about everything - getting people to just give you what you want always feels so much better than taking it. Usually ends better to.

Before prison, for most of his life, it was skin-heads. He'd already known the slurs and the on-the-surface racial epithets from growing up but it only took a few weekends at the library and a couple eavesdropped Klan meetings to understand what these men were searching for. Only took a few well timed bible verses and an encouraging nod or two to get them to listen. The hardest thing of the whole operation was keeping them from being stupid when he wasn't around.

“Can't plan for everything.” “Sometimes shit just happens.” and “It is what it is.” Are just some bullshit excuses people tell themselves. Because Boyd knows that anything can be planned for. It's just a matter of looking. It's just a matter of knowing. He knows that you don't enter a room without knowing there's an exit and that you don't open your mouth unless you know exactly what could be said back to you. 

Boyd knows how to get what he wants.

But since he's been out of prison he doesn't know what the fuck he wants. So he does what he always does but this time it's with words like shepherd, divine calling, and manifesting righteous love. It feels nice to be leading through positive affirmations instead of bigotry. If only because Boyd really resented how objectively moronic white supremacy was - anything ‘supremacy’ was a fucking joke. And those boys in the brotherhood thinking they were God's gift to the genepool? Hard not to see it when you're lookin’, how ridiculous the whole damn thing is.

That's why it didn't feel all that bad talking down to them. Manipulating them into whatever the fuck he felt like. Boyd wonders about it when he feels this tugging in his gut sometimes when he talks to his flock. It doesn't bother him enough to stop, but just enough to wonder why he hadn’t felt it before.

Maybe it's because she's watching and she knows he's full of shit. 

That doesn't usually make any difference to Boyd and his ability to believably speak lies but every time he meets her eyes he feels like she can see his soul, the things behind what he's saying, and it makes him want to stop. Like he's embarrassed. Just a little. Just barely. It's so foreign to Boyd that if he didn't know just about every physical tell a person's body could have, he wouldn't have been able to place it. 

If Boyd had to find the words to explain it he might have said it felt like he wanted her to see him. That his body and his mind have, as most humans have, the desire to be vulnerable with another human being. That he was meeting something in her that his inner self craved. These were words he'd use. But actually feeling them was harder. His list of wants in life is small and it's been the same things for as long as he's been playing snake in the grass. She's not on it. She never was before. 

✞

She isn't anymore. 

For a few weeks, Boyd let himself have something he didn't think he was allowed. Something he'd told himself he didn't deserve. 

He wonders now if he was full of shit that whole time too. If letting her hold him and kiss him and fall in love with who he really was - if he wasn't just doing it to see if he could.

Her hair never burned his nostrils before.

It's not meant to do that. 

Kissing her forehead never tasted like blood either.  Maybe it should have. Maybe if he'd tasted blood the first time he'd kissed her none of this would have happened. 

Boyd doesn't understand how his daddy couldn't tell she was special. Not when he’d seen it the second she opened her mouth down the barrel of his own gun. Boyd knows she didn't go quiet and he knows if she could open her mouth and talk right now her throat would be sore and raw and ruined. 

He tries not think about how he couldn't hear her. He’s not sure if he wishes he had. 

✞

Beatle didn't get it at first but it didn't take her long. Faster than he'd expected. And maybe if he'd met her on a college campus he wouldn't have been so impressed with her. But what was Boyd ever gonna be doing on a college campus? No, as far as he was concerned it was like lookin’ at himself. 

Almost.

She didn't want the same things, and that didn't lead her to be the same type of person Boyd was. But it didn't stop him from seeing himself in her. All her big words and sweet banter. Even with a damn gun to her head she knew how to be cool. He thought he might be in love with her. 

She'd told him later that it was because she'd seen the way he'd looked at her and knew he wasn't going to shoot her. He told her he still would have shot her if she didn't agree to quit using. She tells him she loves him for the first time. 

It had only been a few days since that had happened, them meeting, and after she’d said it she tried to explain it away. It's the first time he sees her not being so cool. It’s the first time he sees the potential for something more.

Not because she'd slipped up and been vulnerable or given him something to use against her. No, it was the feeling in his chest when she'd professed such genuine admiration for what would generally be considered something he should have kept to himself.

The quiet part he's gotten so good at not saying out loud. The secret between his teeth. She can see it.

✞

Days go by and he's certain she can see it. The way Raylan can see some of it. She starts calling him ‘the prince' around camp and she thinks he doesn't understand why. No one else does, and he supposes that's probably why he's letting her get away with it. He's amused by it. By her. Always saying something that ends up surprising him. 

Just some gaunt addict he found in a shitty trailer in children's pajamas, but she's making observations about him in comparison to Italian philosophy. She can't keep herself from pointing out when he ‘mistakenly’ attributes some quote from a book or movie to himself instead. She uses words he doesn't know.

Those aren't the things that impress Boyd. What catches his attention is that she never uses the words like manipulate or Machiavelli or cult. If she ever does call him out on some misattributed quote she won't call him a liar, and she won't do it in earshot of anyone else. And when she uses her big girl words she looks at him like she's teasing him instead of trying to impress him. She knows when he's wrong about the obscure ass Bible stories too and he has no idea how she knows this shit. 

Going out of her way to call him on being full of shit - without ever actually saying it at all.

She's good. She keeps being better at it than he'd thought someone could be. Someone like her. Someone who wasn't really anyone.

Maybe that's why Boyd felt like he could let her in on it. Just a little bit. Because she could see it and he knew she could and she never called him a liar or a bastard or a psycho or anything like that. She didn't even try to leave. If anything, she seemed charmed by it. 

He didn't think too much about how it might feel to let someone in like that. What it could be like to show your real face and still be wanted. 

✞

Their first kiss doesn't taste anything like blood. 

It tasted like tobacco and dirt and her.

She'd been trying to figure a way to sleep closer to him during the nights. Boyd figures this out after she finally ‘confesses’ that she hasn't been sleeping well,  she's ‘scared of the dark’.

He asks her how long it took her to come up with that bullshit.

She says two days.

He asks why she didn't come up with something better and can't argue when she says there really wasn't anything that didn't sound obvious.

It takes about an hour for her to be pressed up against him. They'd started with their sleeping bags a few feet away from each other, but as they talk the distance gets smaller. Boyd isn't sure if it's her or him that's moving in. Isn't he supposed to pay attention to stuff like that? Shouldn't he be at least a little aware of what she says and what she doesn't say and how she's moving and speaking and staring? 

He's in the middle of a story about one of the banks, talking at her about some really ‘cool’ shit he'd said and never gotten to tell anyone (he never thought he'd wanted to) - and without a word she unzips her sleeping bag, unzips his sleeping bag, and rearranges. Making enough room for her to fit right up against him.

And she does.

Boyd keeps talking the whole time. Finishing his story. She listens, and replies, and neither one of them comment on what she's doing. Neither one of them say anything when she's nestled up against him.

He thinks it through… what to do in this situation. What outcome did he want? His dick is hard but it's not aching. He could sleep. He figures making her wait won't hurt his chances if he decides he wants them. 

So he tells her politely goodnight and he's surprised when she doesn't protest. 

Beatle rolls over and he pulls her close. No harm in being close. Really there was no harm in fucking her either, but it didn't feel like the right moment. Everything has its right moment.

He keeps thinking about fucking her and once again he isn't sure who started moving first but he's pulling her over his cock like her body was his to move how he wanted. It was definitely her who started it, he reasons, arching her back into him and wiggling around - but he could've dealt with it. Could've told her to stop, told her no, told her anything that he knew would shut her down.  But just as he was about to say something she turned her head to look back at him. 

She didn't twist her neck and meet his gaze romantically - pressing her hips delicately into his. No, she folded her body at her hips, completely arching herself against him, looking back and up at him like he was already fucking inside of her.

Boyd knows that when he grabs her hips hard enough to bruise her that she likes it that way. Even if she didn't say all the obvious shit that made him know. 

He's not gonna fuck her. Not tonight. But he uses her body to cum and he doesn't feel bad because he's never felt bad about something human like that. And anyway, she liked it. He knows because he can smell how wet her cunt is. He knows because she was a shaking mess, moaning at just the feeling of dull pressure. He knows because she begged him to cum. 

She begged him to cum instead of begging him to fuck her and Boyd thinks he might be in love again.

She turns around and kisses him and her face has dirt on it from where he'd pressed her head into the ground but he likes the way it tastes on her. 

She kisses like an apology. A real one. One that comes from your whole fucking soul because you never felt anything more. Trying to connect. Fully. Deeply. 

Tuggin’ on heart strings is a saying he's always heard and it always made sense until now when he actually feels it for the first time. Boyd, who's so keen on behavior and mannerisms and what was gonna happen next, feels everything she has.

He's been here before with women. Some of them were different but if he was honest most of them were the same. A sigh here, a disgusted look there. Knowing how a woman feels about you might be the easiest observation a man could make.

So Boyd was expecting what he'd gotten from her when he was grinding into her. All shaking and whimpering and he'd probably either have to take the lead or stop it - either was okay by him depending on what he felt like.

But she's someone else. Again. With one leg hooked around him and her hands around the back of his neck and in his hair - she takes his mouth with hers like she's evangelizing. Pushing everything she has into him and he can feel it. More than a physical something. More than her fingers pressing into the pulse at his neck. More than his cock getting hard again and this time it settles right between them.

He finally breaks the kiss only to ask her if she knows he can feel her clit every time it quivers against him. He only asks because he wants to feel it again.

Boyd’s good at talking. Beatle loves it. 

He asks her so many filthy things. Things he'd never got away with asking someone else. Boyd knows there's not much you can't get away with saying with a whisper and a southern accent, but this… this was new even for him.

He wasn't sure what came over him. Why he needed her to know that he's been pretty sure he can tell when she's thinking about giving him head. About the glazed over look in her eye and how her mouth hangs open a little wider than she probably thinks it does when she's staring.

Or why he has to tell her that his cock was hard the whole time he had his gun on her the first night they met.

And he's not going to fuck her but he sucks on her tits like they've been eucharized. He can't stop talking because he can't get enough of every little fucking reaction.

Boyd figures out what it is when he's in the middle of telling her about how he knows her pussy is pretty and pink and the same color as her lips and how, he knows it's bad, but sometimes when she's talking to him all he can think about is what his cock would look like pressed up against her teeth -  Beatle's body seizes on him a little bit different than it had been seizing before; and it all just clicks.

Getting a reaction from her was like breathing. Nothing in his life had ever come so easy. Or so fun. 

She was letting him play with her. 

All his silly little mind games everyone else hated so much. She liked it. Not in the way he’d meant for her to like it. 

She liked him. Actually. 

He's really not sure why he told her about cumming on her pajama pants before he threw them out. He was sure he'd take that one to the grave. But he tells her about it while jerking  off onto her stomach because he wasn't going to fuck her but he needed to cum again. 

And she eats the mess from her fingers from her belly and Boyd is certain he's allowed to be in love. 

✞

Boyd had reasoned himself through a lot of things. Justifying almost anything. This? This he was having a hard time with. All he had going for him is that she'd liked it.

That she asked for it again afterwards.

Because when Boyd wakes up and the sun is peaking through the trees he can finally really see what her tits look like. Half falling out of her top. And when he reaches down to touch her there, her lips part. He thinks about how her pussy is the same color as her mouth and he thinks about how he told her that and how she reacted and he can't stop his hands even if he wanted to.

That's what he tells himself. He's reading her blind like a set of runes, it's not his fault her body is calling him this way. And she's reacting. So how could he stop? He can't. 

He's not sure if she's sleeping or pretending to sleep and he'd be lying if he said he thought that hard about it. Hard enough to care. His fingers dip between her legs and even through her underwear he can feel it. Sticky and warm and hers. 

Boyds hands seem to know what to do the same way his mouth does. Working the fabric of her panties down just slowly enough to not move her. He didn't want to fuck her he just wanted to feel it. 

She spreads her legs for him a little, laying on her belly; another miracle. Another sign he shouldn't stop himself. The Lord was working through him. 

This time he knows he's full of shit but he's rubbing his cock along her soaked lips and he can feel her clit tremble again and he doesn't feel bad when he pushes into her.

Her eyes jolt open like he'd been waiting for and the look on her face is an expression he doesn't think he's ever seen before. Something like fear and trust. Something someone like Boyd could get addicted to. 

He fucks her into the ground. He wants to look at her face again so he pulls her head back by her chin. She meets his gaze like she'd been waiting for it. This. To look at him like this while he fucked her.

She bows her head and takes his fingers into her mouth. She tries to move her head and Boyd knows exactly what the fuck she wants so he gives it to her. Fishhooking his fingers into her cheek while he backs up and off her a little. Sitting her up on her knees before pushing her shoulders back down again. 

Boyd knows how to get what he wants. He wants to go watch himself disappear inside of her. 

He'd almost forgotten where they'd started this, but when he remembers he has to stop himself from finishing then…. Just barely pushing into her again and it reminds him of that first time. 5 minutes ago when she was asleep.

Boyd can't stop thinking about how she'd woken up wanting him. This desperate. This wet.

That he could make her want it even when she couldn't know anything.

She opens her fucking mouth one fucking time and it's to tell him to fuck her pussy like he fucking owns it. And it was kind of corny and it didn't quite hit as well as he thought something she could say during sex would and he's not mad or anything but she adds “because you do.” and Boyd buckles. 

Falling on top of her body like her words hit him he holds her still as he ruts up into her. It's desperate and vulnerable and yet still completely overpowering. He tells her to say it again and she says the whole thing. He tells her no just the last part and she

Starts professing just how much he fucking owns her pussy. How it's never been for anybody else, from the second she saw him she wanted him. She felt him there, she always wanted to feel him there. Deep in her fucking cunt because it fucking belonged to him. 

He asks her whenever he wants it?

She repeats him in breathless moans as he slows his pace

He asks her even if she's sleeping.

She tells him that she’s never been more turned on in her whole life.

He asks her why

Because he took it without asking.

Because he knew it was his.

Boyd cums so fucking hard he's vaguely aware that he's hurting her. Pressing her into the ground and she can't breathe but he knows she'll be okay in a second and he knows she doesn't care. He knows she prefers it this way. Even if she hadn't said it.

✞

For the next two weeks Boyd fucks her in just about every way he can think to fuck her. All the things he's ever wanted to try. Like waking her up by stretching her out. He can't believe he's never been able to wake someone up like that before.

He can't believe how much he likes it.

Responding to her body and giving it what it wants when she can't even speak. He's sure it's is favorite thing that they do.

He does things with her that he’d never actually considered before, too.

He plays pretend with her. Not in front of the others but they'll go out to the creek and he'll baptize her and they fuck in the water or on the edge or against a tree. 

Or Beatle gets down on her knees like she's really praying and pretends to be confused when his cock head pokes at her mouth asking what he's doing and he gets to play along and say it's what the good Lord itends for her.

One time he laid her down and they pretended that as her pastor it was his holy duty to impregnate her with Christ.

Boyd didn't know he would get off on this shit. He's certain he wouldn't be if it wasn't with her. Who's mouth was so believable and reactions so pure - he doesn't have to wonder anything. 

She likes it or she doesn't and she always fucking likes it. 

✞

The sky is hazy and it looks like it might rain. Beatle asks him if he has any family and Boyd doesn't really know what to say. He doesn't want to lie but he doesn't want to talk about it.

He tells her no.

She asks if he's lying because he doesn't want them to meet her.

Boyd’s heart pangs again like it did when she'd kissed him that first time. All desperate and real and alive. He shakes his head and tells her no. She was too good for them.

He can tell she doesn't believe him. But saying nothing is better than saying more. And he knows she'll let him get away with not answering this one.

He tells her it doesn't matter anyway because he's pretty sure he loves her. And it's the first time he says it but it's not the first time he's felt it. Beatle believes him. 

Boyd is pretty sure she's never believed those words in her whole life before now. 

His heart pangs again.

✞

Bo Crowder was a scary sonofabitch. That's what Beatle said under her breath as he was walking up to their camp. Boyd’s glad she said it quiet because she didn't know how right she was.

She didn't know that was his daddy.

She knew about the meth shipment he was yelling about. Something he normally wouldn't have told her, even though it wasn't a secret necessarily. Something about wanting to protect a woman from the dangers of this world. 

But Boyd needed Beatle. He trusted her. She was part of this with him. He didn't want her the way he wanted all of the rest and he wanted all of the rest to know it too. Something about making her feel like she was someone. 

He knew he was saying and doing things at just the right times to make her feel special. But it's not like he didn't mean them. She treated each one like a fucking gift. Each public display, every private whisper. Every touch of their fingers and especially every time he buried himself inside her.

✞

It occurs to him on his walk through exile, while his people were no doubt being strung up and taken away by lawmen, that he doesn't think he can live without her. Well, at least that he doesn't want to. He reasons he shouldn't have to. 

She didn't break any laws anyway and Raylan will probably hand her over personally when her record comes back clean. He'd asked her and she said she had no charges she'd known of. She'd know. 

So, be patient. Wait it out. He runs through it again, in his head, all the stuff his daddy said. That they were gonna have them dig up the guns then tie em to a tree and call the feds.

He said a lot of other stuff too. About not being a son not being a leader not being nothing. Boyd was always sure he was nothing so none of that shit felt like anything. The first few blows his daddy makes his cousin give him don't feel like much of anything either.

Seeing Beatle’s face is what does it. He's sure he's rocked a few more times but he doesn't remember anything after seeing her look at him like that. 

✞

Boyd tries not to remember Beatle for the way she looked at him then. He tries really hard to remember the few seconds he'd gotten to touch her hand before his daddy shot that gun one last time at him to get out of there. 

He wishes he remembered it better but it's so fuzzy and barely there. He wishes his cousin would have just fucking beat him to death. He wishes that one prick ass degenerate addict piece of shit good for nothing follower who snitched out where the guns were would come back to life so he could rip apart every bit of him.

Because she'd probably still be alive. Boyd’s sure of it. If he'd died instead she'd be alive and the world wouldn't fucking feel like this. 

✞

For a while he has delusions that it’s the Real Deal out and out End O’ Times. That with her went all the light and all the good because he just couldn't seem to reason why.

Couldn't his daddy see she was special?

Couldn't he see that she was divinely made for him? 

That their love could have changed the world. 

It could have changed him.

Boyd can't reason with his daddy because he's dead too.

✞

After even longer Boyd convinces himself he was full of shit the whole time. That Beatle was just some girl he stuffed his cock into to feel good about himself while he was reintegrating back into society. 

Just some junkie, and if she was still alive she'd be back to using again. They wouldn’t have been anything because Beatle wasn't anyone.

She thought she was special, but don't they all? 

Boyd doesn't think about it much anymore. When he does he only lets himself think one thing.

She couldn't have been real. Not the way he thought she was. He must have been wrong about her and he would have figured it out eventually. 

He can't let himself think about her the way she really was.

The memories of her then are remembered by no one. Not a soul on this earth. Not even the ground they fucked on or the pond he made her piss in so he could watch. Not even in the stump that she'd carved their initials into because Boyd went back and he cut it all apart so sure that wasn't real either. 

He keeps being so sure it wasn't real.

He convinces himself that some initials carved in a tree is just something childish and stupid and that's why he destroyed it. He convinces himself that it wouldn't have broken her heart.

He’ll convince himself of just about anything to keep from thinking about what it felt like to be loved. Because that's what it was, right? Love? 

So he doesn't think about her. Or then. Or what happened and what didn't. 

✞

It's the gunpowder. Every time it starts to sting up his sinuses he can feel her hair soft against his lips. And every time he closes his eyes and he remembers her. What it felt like to realize she was up there with the rest of them.

Maybe someday Boyd will let himself remember what it felt like to love her. He worries that by the time he’ll be ready he won't remember what she looked like anymore.

What she felt like.

He already forgets most of the stuff they'd talked about. He just knows she was special. He knows no one else would get it anyway. Why he wanted to let himself be stuck there forever. In those words. Dying. How three weeks could feel so much bigger.

Boyd keeps going out there despite how much he convinces himself he's not thinking about her. Everything time he smells the gunpowder. 

He keeps finding reasons to use his gun. 

Because even though in that memory she's dead it's the realest one he's got. 

He doesn't think about her dead.

If he absolutely has to, laying down in the dirt where the camp used to be, he thinks about the way she looked when he'd told her he was pretty sure he loved her.

Sometimes he thinks about her mouth or her body or the way she always seemed to know what to do with them - but mostly he just thinks about the way she looked at him. Praying to be a better man for the next time around this life because she deserved more than God would allow him to give. The choices he had made previous to loving her had tainted his soul. Turned it rotten and poisoned her before he'd barely even gotten the chance. She'd paid for his sins. So he prays next time he meets her without any. 

Boyd wishes just one time he would lay down out here and not get up. 

He leaves the woods, convincing himself he was full of shit with her the same way he was full of shit with everyone, the memories of her die again, and he forgets about her until his subconscious finds some reason for him to fire a gun.

Any reason.

Boyd remembers enough about her to know she'd have liked that.

✞

A/n; it wasn't really proofread? (Well it was but I'm not very good at it) ALSO idk about this writing style either, i know it's kind of different? And in my opinion probably more juvenile but I had fun writing it this way. 🤷🏻‍♀️

(I'll make a different post about where I'm at with my wips~)

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Record of Ragnarok x Harry Potter reader. (I do hope that you know the Harry Potter series) the reader can be from the ages 11-17 and could do complex magic spells and can do all with their wand.

Got stumped at this point but I generally wanted to know how the gods and humans; especially Odin would react to this.

It could happen during the tournament or not.

-Y/N Potter, survivor of the dark lord Voldemort, a mere 11 years old, had died at the end of your first year of Hogwarts, taking your DADA teacher, Professor Quirrell and Voldemort with you, ridding the world of evil.

-While you were bummed when you arrived in Valhalla, as you had enjoyed going to Hogwarts and making friends, this new world you found yourself in was so vast and had lots of stuff to explore!

-Many of the gods were furious to learn that you lost your life fighting the battles of adults, even if you technically won because you rid the world of evil, and the human warriors were quick to adopt you as their own.

-You were so small, and after you told them how you were treated by your aunt, uncle, and dumpty cousin, it was no wonder why, and your massive adoptive family were very quick to start spoiling you and showering you with love, praise, and all the snacks you could ever want to eat!

-After learning a bit more about Hogwarts, Odin and Loki became your teachers on how to use magic, teaching you Latin and the basics of magic.

-This was totally unlike how you were being taught at Hogwarts! You were learning spells and skills that most didn’t learn until they were an adult- after they graduated!! And you were still only eleven!

-That was one downside, as you died at your prime, so you wouldn’t grow anymore after this, so you were forever stuck as a child. Some things about it wasn’t bad, as you got out of trouble a lot and many loved to hug you like you were a little kid, but there were times you wanted to be treated like an adult, which some thought was cute.

-There were a few, like Thor, Lu Bu, and Nikola, who treated you like an adult, Thor and Lu Bu because they treated you like everyone else when they were teaching you things, and Nikola did it because he could see your drive for learning and was quick to figure out that you were way smarter than you seemed.

-You enjoyed spending time with Jack the most, mainly because the two of you would discuss books you’ve both read over afternoon tea, something you weren’t allowed to participate in while you had been alive until you reached Hogwarts.

-You did find, however, much to Loki’s amusement, that you quite enjoyed being underestimated by those who didn’t know you, thinking you were just some twiggy, dorky looking kid, only for you to easily hand their asses to them without moving a single inch!

-You were definitely a force to be reckoned with, not only with your own skills and powers, but with your massive family now in your corner, backing you up.

[voltronisanobsession]

Being Stiles Twin | Platonic Stiles Stilinksi x Reader

Some headcanons cuz I was bored😜 this is definitely all over the place and messy but that’s fine, just ignore it👼

Being Stiles’ twin is definitely a unique experience on its own

While you guys are different in many ways, there are times where your similarities really shine through

Since you’ve grown up with this dude, you both share the same sense of humor and sarcasm (something that everyone condemns)

When he makes a comment or joke, you’re probably the only one chuckling at it and vice versa

I feel like since Stiles is on the more extroverted side, reader is probably a bit more mellow compared to him

You usually let him take the lead on most stuff, enjoying just watching him blabber about who knows what

You might be a bit quieter without him but you never really minded much

When you’re with him though, yall are the capital of yap central. Especially if you guys are talking about something you’re both passionate about. Or, more often than not, when you’re arguing with each other

He’s the one always dragging you around everywhere and forcing you to go through his plans with him

This was a problem when you guys were younger since both of you were often caught by your dad💀

Being Stiles’ twin would include listening to similar music, sharing a lot of the same interests and geeking out on it together

It also includes bothering Scott whenever you can

Being childhood friends, Scott can never truly escape the Stilinski twins. If Stiles isn’t with him, you’re usually not too far away. Scott has labeled you both as the angel and devil on his shoulders lmao

Between the both of you, I think the reader would have a more flight response when in the face of danger. Stiles usually charges at things head first, the complete opposite of you

It’s not that your any more smarter than him, but that you have a higher self preservation than him

Of course if he ever asks (or forces), you would always stay beside your brother during dangerous situations

It’s either fight or flight with yall. Whoever wins rock paper scissors gets to make the choice💀💀

Moving on, I think maybe sometimes you feel a little less important to the group as compared to Stiles since you view him as more valuable to them.

He’s definitely more knowledgeable and smarter when thinking like the ‘bad guys’

Just a little insecurity you’ll never tell anyone😜

You both are y’all’s ride or dies

Without a doubt if one of you does something stupid, the other will 100% follow in suite

You both might even jump to the same idea and conclusion at the same time when having to make some decision or something

It usually doesn’t end well but at least you guys did it together💆

Even if you guys do dumb things together and by chance get separated, you both worry about each other a lot

Like the first thing Stiles will ask if he sees anyone after some hectic chase is if they know where you are

Being twins, you’ll always have top priority to each other. It’s nothing personal, but if yall had to choose between each other or someone else, after a bit of hesitation the choice will be obvious

Let’s move onto some lighthearted headcanons now👼

You both argue who gets to drive the jeep💀

Yall are forced to share the car, so this problem is usually settled with DUN DUUNNN

Rock paper scissors LMAO

You tend to steal Stiles’ sweater a lot, and despite how smart he is, you always manage to gaslight him into thinking it was yours to begin with

Little do you know he DOES know that ur lying to him, he just takes them back when ur not home, and then the cycle repeats itself

Despite you guys sharing similar interests, it’s always going to be a smidge different

Like it would fall under the same category but for some reason, yall can’t get into each others interests as ironic as it sounds

You guys have this creepy twin telepathy that Scott hates. You both will just randomly starting speaking singing at the same exact time, saying the exact same thing and not even bat an eye

He doesn’t know if it’s because you’re always around each other or if there’s some divine force behind it, but Scott will always side eye you guys whenever it happens

He loves you both but he just finds it freaky that you both know what the other is thinking at the same time. It’s cool but freaky regardless

You both are very close to each other, so when what happens in season three happens, it really damages your bond.

You both grow apart but that’s a post for another day😇

[hollaback--girl]

una más y no jodemos más

third part of incorrect quotes of ghostbusters :)

•

Trevor: You have Crayons?

Podcast: Yes, I have—

Trevor: You're— how old are you?

Podcast: YES I AM A GROWN BOY AND I HAVE CRAYONS, I HAVE A BOX OF EMERGENCY CRAYONS IN THE CABINET UNDER THE TV BECAUSE EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS SOMETIMES, OKAY? EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS.

•

Dickless: You think you're smarter than everyone else.

Phoebe: I don't think I'm smarter than everyone else. I know I am.

•

Trevor, learning how to drive: What happens if I press the gas and the brake at the same time?

Gary: The car takes a screenshot.

Callie: Please pull over. I’m driving now.

•

Melody: Hi, who's this? Trevor changed all of my contacts to mythical creatures.

Phoebe: What's mine?

Melody: Dwarf.

Phoebe: HE'S SO MEAN, I'M NOT THAT SHORT!

Melody: Oh, hey Phoebe.

Phoebe: FUCK!

•

Callie: You're alive.

Phoebe: There's no need to sound so disappointed.

•

Podcast: If you water water, it grows.

Lucky: ...What.

Trevor: He's got a point.

•

Gary: Say no to drugs.

Lucky: Say yes to drugs.

Callie: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs. If you're talking to drugs.. then you're on drugs.

•

Lucky: Yeah, a partner sounds nice, but a supreme enemy you can make out with in secret sometimes sounds a lot more hardcore.

•

Phoebe: Accidentally indulged in too much ‘free time’, turns out I’ve been reported missing for over six months and presumed dead by most local and national authorities.

•

Melody: Don't joke about murder. I was murdered once and it offends me.

•

Podcast: *watching his house burn down*

Podcast:

Podcast: *starts filming* Waddup, guys, welcome to my vlog, today's topic: how to get away with accidentally committing arson because you forgot Spaghetti O's cans are metal and thus non-microwavable! Step one: deny everything.

•

Trevor: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.

Melody, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

•

*During a game of Hangman*

Phoebe: Nope, there’s no Q. You lose.

Trevor: Are you kidding me?! You can still add something!

Phoebe: I already added a belt, four earrings and an extra arm! YOU LOSE!

•

Melody: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Phoebe: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Melody: But you’re always acting stupid?

Phoebe: ...

Phoebe: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

•

Podcast: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be?

Gary: Maybe a bit tipsy?

Trevor: Drunk.

Phoebe: Wasted.

Callie: Dead.

[lesbianrobin]

family friend

2,051 words

eddie has a new neighbor. his new neighbor has an unusual visitor.

Eddie's gotta figure out how to get away with murdering Steve Harrington.

Steve was a douche in high school, sure, but nothing crazy. He was just standard ignorant jock douchey, not, like, hauling slurs at everyone and beating on his girlfriend douchey, which is why Eddie almost couldn't believe what he was seeing at first.

The Mayfields moved in across the way, and Eddie saw Steve carrying boxes. A bit weird to see Steve Harrington in the trailer park, sure, but maybe the mom paid him twenty bucks or something to help with moving. Not a huge deal. Then Eddie saw Steve Harrington pull up outside that same trailer in his BMW the very next night, around one in the morning. The little redheaded freshman girl came out of her place carrying a backpack and got into the car, and before Eddie could blink Steve was driving off, and Eddie felt like he might throw up.

Sure, technically it's none of his business, but Jesus fuckin' Christ, the girl can't be any more than fifteen at the oldest, and that’s if he’s being generous. He’s almost sure she’s fourteen. Steve's a grown-ass man, so Eddie would probably be well within his rights to call the cops, but what the hell would he say? Officer, I saw them talking. He gave her a ride. The hell kind of evidence is that? Besides, the cops don't give a shit about anything that happens on this side of town, and they sure as hell don’t give a shit about anything that Eddie Munson has to say. Eddie's gonna have to figure something else out.

Three months later, and he’s still drawing a blank. It's not that he's scared of Harrington, he's just being… pragmatic. Wise. Other things that aren't just being a cowardly little wimp. Harrington doesn't come by every night, sometimes he'll even go a week without visiting, but every time Eddie thinks that maybe he's finally decided to leave this poor girl alone, he comes back. Always at night. Well, probably. Eddie's obviously not just staking out this random girl's house all day. Because that would be weird. So for all he knows, Harrington could be coming by sometimes at noon, but Eddie's only noticed it at night, and the girl always comes outside to his car, Harrington never going in, and one time Eddie sees Harrington tug on her braid when she gets into the passenger seat and the kid smiles at him, and Eddie wonders if she knows how wrong this is or if she's just happy to have somebody giving her attention. Too many girls around Hawkins are like that, convinced that even the smallest scrap of affection means they're loved, and maybe it's a bit hypocritical of Eddie to say that because he's so desperate for love and respect that he devotes almost all of his time to making sure a bunch of teenage nerds think he's cool, and maybe if a grown-ass man had shown him a little attention when he was fourteen he'd have fallen into that exact same trap, but Wayne wouldn't have let it happen, and Eddie finds himself hating that poor single mother across the road a little bit even though he knows it's not fair.

Harrington may be a creep, but he's smarter than Eddie would have expected. He never does anything untoward in public, nothing that could give Eddie an excuse to get involved. What the hell is he supposed to do? Threaten Steve Harrington and get his ass kicked? Try to hit Steve Harrington, get his ass kicked, and get arrested for assault? Tell the girl’s mother and get chewed out for spying on them all the time? So Eddie watches. He just watches like a total piece of shit. Harrington’s the only man he ever sees at the trailer, which isn’t surprising. The kid’s mom seems to work too much to have time for dating. Eddie saw Lucas Sinclair once or twice, right around when they first moved in, but he hasn’t been by in a couple of months, and he hasn’t brought it up with Sinclair because how the hell is he supposed to even start that conversation? Any time he considers telling somebody about the Harrington situation, he starts planning what he’ll say, how the conversation will go, and it always ends with somebody wondering why the hell he’s paying so much attention to the little girl across the street and turning Eddie in to the cops, who already hate him and want any excuse to lock his ass up and search the trailer. Besides, Sinclair may not worship the guy like Henderson does, but he still seems to think he's pretty great, so he probably wouldn't be receptive.

One Sunday afternoon, Eddie’s eating cereal and watching TV when he hears a car pulling up outside. The engine's way too smooth to belong to anybody in Forest Hills, so Eddie stands to peek out the window.

Harrington’s BMW comes to a stop so hard that Eddie can hear the brakes squeal. He jumps out of the driver’s seat, leaving his car running, and takes the stairs two at a time, barging into the Mayfields’ trailer like he owns the place, and Eddie’s blood runs cold. Eddie's pretty sure the girl’s the only one home right now.

Steve Harrington gets into a lot of fights.

Eddie puts his cereal down on the coffee table and starts patting himself down. Shit, where’s his knife? In his jacket, probably, and his jacket’s in his room, and there’s no fucking way Eddie’s gonna take on Steve Harrington with his bare hands, so he runs through the trailer, hoping that he didn’t leave his jacket in the van, because the van’s locked right now and he can’t remember where he put his keys, and he keeps listening, waiting for a scream, but he doesn’t hear anything, which somehow makes him even more sick.

Finally, finally, he finds the jacket, finds his switchblade, and he glances quickly out the window on his way to the door—and pauses.

Harrington is carrying the Mayfield girl piggyback down the stairs. He says something, and she thumps his ear. Ow! he can see Harrington exclaim, but he doesn’t put her down, doesn’t retaliate in any way, and Eddie slips his knife into his pocket. He needs to hear what they’re saying.

The trash can’s only half full, but it’ll work.

Eddie tries his best to act nonchalant as he carries the too-light bag of trash outside, pretending like he doesn’t even notice Harrington and the girl are there.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harrington says, bending down so that the girl can open the passenger side door. “Here, careful…” He slowly lets her down, and Eddie sees that she’s balancing on one foot, holding the other one an inch or so off the ground. Harrington offers her a hand and she leans on his arm as she lowers herself into the car.

“I don’t need a hospital,” the girl says, “I just asked if you could take me to get an ankle brace, Mom,” and Harrington sighs.

He lowers his volume, but King Steve’s voice has always carried pretty well, so Eddie hears clear as day, “Look, I can cover the bill, alright? You know I can. Please don’t worry about it, Max, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Eddie can just barely hear what Max says next, but he’s pretty sure it’s sorry.

Harrington reaches down and tugs on her braid, a small, sad smile on his face, and he says, “Just be more careful next time, alright? Don’t try new tricks and shit without somebody around to make sure you don’t break your neck.”

They look at each other for a few moments, and the silence makes Eddie suddenly aware that he’s just been standing next to a trash can doing absolutely nothing. He lifts the lid and drops the bag in.

“Alright, your feet in okay?” Max nods. Harrington closes her door gently. He jogs around to the driver’s side, and that’s when he and Eddie lock eyes. Oh, shit.

Harrington gives him a polite smile, holding one hand up in a wave. “Hey,” he calls, and Eddie jumps. Harrington gestures toward the car. “Kid broke her ankle on her skateboard.”

“It’s not broken!”

Harrington rolls his eyes. “You’re not a doctor just because you can put band-aids on skinned knees,” he says as he opens the drivers’ side door, shooting a look back at Eddie like, Can you believe this kid? Harrington gets into the car and snaps his fingers, saying, “Hey, come on, seatbelt, asshole.”

Max Mayfield throws her head back and groans, but she puts on her seatbelt. Harrington buckles his own, waves at Eddie, and puts the car in drive. Eddie watches them drive off, standing next to the trash can, and it feels like his feet are stuck in place.

Eddie noticed a lot of things, keeping an eye out for Max like he was. He noticed Max spending hours at a time wiping out on her skateboard, over and over, skinning her knees and bruising her shins, until she nailed whatever trick she was trying to do. He noticed how many six- and twelve-packs her mother carried inside on a regular basis. He noticed how their TV and their lights often stayed on until the early hours of the morning. He noticed how Max always had dark circles under her eyes, how she never smiled, not really, always trudged to and from the school bus with her headphones on and her eyes to the ground. He noticed that Max sometimes smiled in the passenger seat of that BMW. He noticed that Harrington was the only man who ever came over to the trailer, but more than that, Eddie realizes, he was the only person.

When Eddie gets inside, his cereal is beyond soggy. He eats it anyway, gagging on every mouthful, and thank fuck he’s such a coward or he might have scared off the only person in a lonely girl’s life who’s actually looking out for her. Actually doing shit to help her, not just watching from across the street. Getting her away from her alcoholic mother, from her quiet, shitty trailer, and Eddie suddenly remembers how he heard Madonna playing from Harrington’s car radio one night, and at the time he thought it was disgusting, some old creep playing a little girl’s favorite music so she’d let her guard down, but now it makes his chest feel funny in a good way.

Shit, Henderson was right. How many kids has Steve Harrington adopted? Eddie’s always figured that Henderson worships the guy and Sinclair thinks he's cool because he’ll buy them beer or something, but he’d never quite bought his own theory, because Henderson doesn’t seem like the type. This makes more sense. Dustin’s mom is a little… uh… much, Sinclair had said one time when Dustin left Hellfire early. She might, like, actually have a heart attack and die if he’s home late again. Henderson lives alone with his mom, too, no brothers or sisters and no dad in the picture, and Eddie’s never claimed to be bright but he’s not too bad at recognizing patterns. So, Steve Harrington: not a creep, probably. That’s good to know. Eddie’s not gonna let up on Henderson, obviously, because Harrington’s still a stupid asshole jock, but it’s nice to know his little buddies aren’t hanging with a perv.

Three hours later, Eddie hears the BMW again. He watches through the window as Harrington opens Max’s door for her and helps her up the stairs on her new clunky boot. They're chatting about something, taking turns rolling their eyes and laughing on their way inside. Harrington seems to stay inside the trailer until Max’s mom gets home that night, and when she does Steve meets her on the porch. They go inside together for a bit. When they reemerge, Harrington hugs her, and Eddie thinks he might see a tear or two from Max’s mother, and then he looks away, busies himself with his third attempt at slogging through The Scarlet Letter because it's none of his business.

Steve fuckin' Harrington. God, Hawkins never stops getting weirder.

[daphnebowen]

me and my friend arguing about various things in the pjo show is a whole presidential debate. It’s been going on since the moment I told him I watched the show at precisely 10:47 am yesterday.

His points:

he doesn’t particularly like leah as Annabeth. he said her acting is stiff and more like she’s smarter than everyone else and it doesn’t feel as “witty or goofy” as Annabeth really is.

the fight scene between clarisse and Percy was dumb and had so much wasted potential

and I guess that’s it. But we’ve been arguing about leah for at least a couple of hours.

my points:

Annabeth is SUPPOSED to appear analytical and smarter than everyone else BECAUSE SHE IS, at this point Percy knows literally nothing about this girl and as luke says “Annabeth is always seven steps ahead of everyone else”. We forget that there was a time when Annabeth and Percy’s relationship and dynamic was brand new to us because we’re so used to percabeth and we’re so used to their silly banter and the different sides of Annabeth we’ve grown to see and known for such a long time. and now going back to the beginning when they don’t know each other and don’t have that relationship- of course Annabeth is going to size up Percy and act smart! That is her whole character! she hasn’t opened up to him or warmed up to him yet! And leah is doing a fantastic job with Annabeth, in my opinion. I was very proud of her. and I’m not gonna bring up the other things he said about leah because I would rant on for days and days about that so we’ll leave it at that 🥰

we kind of already saw Percy’s powers being used?? I mean the toilet scene was like five minutes ago. and In the books Percy really didn’t use his powers to fight back against clarisse and everyone did he? no he used his instincts and unknown fighting skills. So this whole thing about wasted potential - I dunno, I thought it was cool because we’ve already seen the fountain and the toilet and now we get to see this other side of Percy with his sword fighting skills. how good he is already and how much potential he has. I mean they compare him to Luke in the future don’t they? so I really enjoyed seeing that but I guess my friend can have his own opinions

things we agree on:

Walker, aryan, and Luke, sally, and chiron’s casting was PERFECT. They embody their characters so much and it genuinely feels like my favorite characters (and longtime character crushes) are brought to life.

the Minotaur fight was EPIC!!! nuff said

camp half blood is freaking GORGEOUS and so book accurate

the whole show is book accurate let’s be honest

and yeah that’s it

my friend is very very opinionated so we’ll see how long we continue to argue. He drives me crazy sometimes. Why am I friends with him???

also if anybody disagrees you can comment or whatever but if I don’t respond sorry because I’m too tired from arguing with him :))

reblog if u love Leah Sava Jeffries