#i could be wrong about that. but i think the pace can be very intimidating!!! and there isnt a lot of time to ruminate or spread

[squidsinashirt]

U must have some amazing stories about your dad u can share! 🤩

I’ve sat on this one for a bit, sorry Anon. Wasn’t intentional but I… just didn’t know how to answer it.

I mean, I get it. He’s Jeff Tracy, right? The Jeff Tracy. I can remember being just a little kid, and going to meet him off coming home from his latest mission. All these huge crowds cheering for him, those amazing rockets, and little me thinking all this, for my dad?

The thing is, everybody has their own stories about him. It’s fascinating, because you’ll hear all these other tales that exist only thanks to other people. Colonel Casey, Captain Taylor, heck even Kip Harris knew him. All these huge figures have got larger than life tales of the incredible things Jeff Tracy did, and was, and inspired. There’s statues and plaques to him, and you can take a tour at the space centre about his missions, and there’s books and movies and documentaries…

There are five incredible machines he dreamt up, standing by to help achieve this fantastical goal of his to help the world. I suppose in a way, you get to snatch a little glimpse of who Jeff Tracy was, and what he believed in, every time one of them appears to save the day. Every time some kid points an excited finger up at Thunderbird Two or squints after a contrail that was Thunderbird One, there he is. That magic, that excitement, that kind of imposing extraordinary that he did so well.

Anyway, to get back on track. People come bounding up to us, to me, and they ask this sort of question all the time, and that’s the thing about being JEFFTRACYSSON (said in one breath at rapid pace, because that’s the way people greet you). I get the curiosity, I really do. I don’t say it with any malice intended, and it’s comforting to know he still has that kind of impact. I’m always happy to talk about him, I promise!

It’s simple to be JEFFTRACYSSON when you pull on an International Rescue uniform. It took a little practice to ease into at first, but it’s perfected now. It’s really easy to talk about how we believe in his dream, how we’ve all taken on that duty in our individual and collective ways. In the importance of iR, in what it means to us as family. Shiny uniform, perfect hair, smile and wave and save some lives 💪🏻

Please don’t read into this in the wrong way - I’m very proud to be Jeff Tracy’s son. It’s actually quite difficult to really put across how strongly I feel about the weight of that title, because it’s pretty sacred (and also a little intimidating at times). Everywhere we go, it’s “oh, you must be Jeff’s boy” or “oh, you’re a Tracy”, and that means there’s instantly an expectation to live up to, both publicly and privately. It’s a privilege, it really is, and I think it’s a kind of sacrosanct commitment that has really been at the centre of my thinking as I’ve gotten older - how to try and be the sort of man that deserves that kind of birthright.

I don’t just mean the public side of being Jeff Tracy’s son. See, behind the scenes, to me, to us as a family, he was every bit human in a very ordinary way.

He made the best Sunday pancakes.

He cheered far too loudly at swim competitions (and teenage me was perpetually mortified by it) and was every bit as encouraging and supportive as you might guess.

He told these excellent, awful dad jokes, always at just the wrong (or right, I suppose) moments that made you groan.

He used to let me drive his old truck up the drive when he came home from a long mission, playing country songs with the window rolled down.

We loved pranking Mom together by hiding in the laundry bin and jumping out like idiots.

He told the most spectacular, far fetched bedtime stories he swore were real, and my brothers and I could never get enough of them.

He was also away for months on end in space, or training, or lost in his plans and ideas and dreams, and sometimes that meant he wasn’t really here with us, even if he was.

He couldn’t do laundry for shit, and he was absolutely useless at trying to run a house with five young sons on his own, and only a military background to lean on for ideas (thanks Grandma and Scott for saving that one).

Being Jeff Tracy’s son is a little more complex than just the uniform, I guess, and because of that I don’t always recognise the Jeff Tracy in the books and the movies, the one that people are so desperate to hear more about.

I think that’s why I find answering questions like this so difficult, and why maybe my answers never land particularly well with the people who ask this. Because the expectation for them is an entire reel of grand tales that haven’t been heard yet out of me. Some heroic, unbelievable stories that reads like the plaques - and then they are always a little disappointed that it turns out all I can say is that he was a real person. Somebody who was very human and very brilliant and very flawed, and who I loved very much. Because to me, he’s my dad.

And ultimately, nobody wants to hear about that. It doesn’t fit their two dimensional, mythical image of him, or my brothers and I for that matter. Us being a fairly regular family doesn’t really inspire the kind of tales that perhaps lend themselves to be told.

(This is the biggest reason I don’t do interviews, because I’d be like you wanna hear about the time he took us on a hiking trip, got us lost in a storm and Mom nearly divorced him because she thought we’d all been eaten by coyotes? No? It’s hilarious, honestly!)

That’s alright, though. Like I said, the movies and the books are there to tell those stories, and Lee Taylor will happily yap your ear off for an hour about their exploits if you want. Dad’s legacy, in that form, is more than secure.

They’re not going to ever be able to tell you about his favourite pancake toppings though, or his favourite song to dance to in the kitchen or his favourite swear word, and there’s the real privilege in getting to be Jeff Tracy’s son. In getting to carry him forward, not just the stories.

…

…

This got a lot deeper than I intended it to go. I’ve had a beer and I rambled. Sorry Anon.

Ahem. Good question! I guess I’m just not the best person to answer it, ironically enough ;)

I guess the best that I can offer is that if you are ever in trouble and call us, just know that there was a really great human being behind the face that made it all possible, who told the worst jokes, but who cared a whole f-ing lot.

*insert generic story here about Dad and a rocket*

[paingoes]

Just wanted to say that I really love your work and I can't believe Destroyer isn't more popular??? Like it's one of the most well-written series I've found on here, the characters have so much depth and I'm genuinely obsessed with them, and the subtle humor especially from Delta's POV chapters is so good!!! I'm really enjoying Rubies and Crash Out as well, I don't know how you update so often but it's usually the best part of my day 😁 I love reading your extra posts about the characters and universe too!! The voice claims in particular just make so much sense and they've really added to my reading experience :)

Sorry for the anon ask I'm shy 🥲

ive been staring at this message for a while because i feel like nothing i say will be adequate to respond to it. i really cannot tell you what this means to me. the support ive gotten for this blog has been so so incredible and im genuinely humbled by it everyday. thank you <3

IM GLAD YOU LIKE THE HUMOR. im not really writing to be funny i feel like im genuinely just writing to be human and humor is just part of having the characters sound natural. not despite but because of their circumstances. theyve really just mastered gallows humor. with delta in particular its largely because he is aware of how absurd his situation is and how badly he needs to keep himself entertained to not go crazy.

this is just my opinion but i am really drawn to narratives about abuse that have that sense of humor about them because that is what speaks to my experience! abuse is inherently irrational. a lot of abuse survivors have stories about what happened to them that are just absurd. sometimes abusers will do awful things that are intentionally outlandish just to cast doubt on their victims stories. so to me abuse and absurdity/surrealism are inextricably linked and by that same token abuse and humor are inextricably linked. its so awful its funny.

i think it can be easy to get this wrong but it is perfect when you get this right.

oh my god im so glad you like the voice claims cause i was sooooo happy w them. like ive had ideas for their voices for a while but actually tracing them to specific people and getting to arrange them and hear them played next to each other made me so happy and satisfied.

jeeeeez this ask made me so happy i wish i could print it out and put it on my wall. ive been rereading it over and over again. thank you so much !!!! ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[tojicide]

OBSESSED. ☆ SYLUS QIN.

📰 extra, extra! why is your bodyguard so obsessed with you? girl, you wanna know...

warnings. fem! reader, popstar! reader, bodyguard! sylus, established romantic history ( very brief ), pet names, semi-public, fingering, oral ( fem. receiving ), cowgirl, unprotected p in v. wc. 4.6k.

an. reused the header and a bit of the plot from an aaron hotchner fanfic i wrote on wattpad in like… 2021??? tweaked most of the details obvs but ig i was born as a bodyguard au lover

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Your bodyguard was such a buzzkill.

Dragging you out of every party you make an appearance at, replacing your shots with water once he believes you’ve had one too many, watching you like a hawk no matter where you are or who you’re with...

You despise those who have an inability to have fun, so as far as you’re concerned, Sylus is the devil reincarnated. You aren’t exactly shy about your opinion of him either, and perhaps in hindsight, that is exactly why he was currently pacing through the party you’re in attendance of to try and ruin your night yet again.

(Ruin your night or… do his job? Hell if you care about the logistics of it all. Two sides of the same coin, you think.)

His protective instinct only grew more intense ever since the two of you shared a kiss before a concert of yours that left your lipstick smeared over your face like there was no tomorrow…

And what did that asshole do? Nothing. It was in his nature to make your life miserable after all. Sylus let you walk out in front of your thousands of fans, makeup messy and appearance disheveled all from his mouth on yours alone.

And boy, did the tabloids have a time with that one… Who was the culprit? A new fling of yours? Fiancé? Possible baby daddy? Each and every news outlet had some uniquely wrong to say. Can’t a girl have a makeout session with her bodyguard in peace?

Unfortunately for you, the paparazzi have been hounding you ever since that day, itching to get the 4-1-1 on your love life.

And ever since, you haven’t given many people the time of day—including Sylus. Tonight, you’ve managed to stay two steps ahead of your dear bodyguard and evade eventual capture for just a bit longer. You’re currently surrounded by a few of your friends, socialites and actors alike.

Your lips seem to flap freely when you have a few drinks in you, but tonight, you’re sober but even more talkative than ever. Your chosen topic of conversation? Your overbearing and stupidly handsome bodyguard, of course.

Too lost in your story, waving your arms around to your theatrical pleasure, you hardly noticed the way your friends’ faces paled to a ghostly shade of white, their eyes nearly bulging out of their heads and their lips parted as if they had something to say but… couldn’t.

All the while, you were too busy blowing off the  steam that you’d acquired from your last encounter with the forsaken bodyguard. “…And I was like, why are you so obsessed with me?”

As fate would have it, you hear a throat clear behind you followed by an annoyed sigh that you’ve grown to know like the back of your hand. You spin around, already wearing a scowl.

“Obsessed with you, hm?” Sylus says, his voice low and seemingly dangerous, though your utter distaste for the man rids him of his intimidation. “You’re quite self important. I could never live in a world where I’d fall at the feet of an egotistical popstar.”

You roll your eyes at that. Who does he think he is? Everyone loves you—all except for the disgustingly handsome man standing in front of you.

“Mm… well, you can always die an untimely death and never have to work for me again,” you reply, giving him the most passive aggressive smile known to man. “Hopefully that gives you an ounce of hope.”

“It does,” he replies, returning the same expression that you gave him.

It’s borderline infuriating how undisturbed Sylus was. No, it is infuriating. No matter how many insults you chucked his way, he never cracked. (And the one time he did, it led to the two of you playing tonsil tennis in your dressing room...)

You shake your head, huffing in utter annoyance. You then hold your wrists up for display, cocking your head to the side as you give him a mock puppy dog expression. “Sooo… are you here to take me away, Officer Buzzkill?”

Sylus merely blinks in response to your taunting, taking a firm grasp on one of your wrists before he tugs you through the sea of partygoers. He laces your fingers together, squeezing tight as to not lose hold of you.

“Must you always make things so difficult?” he asks, keeping his eyes ahead.

You shrug your shoulders. “More or less.”

“More or less?” he echoes, glancing over his shoulder to properly look at you. “I suggest you try a different style of communication, sweetness. Your clipped attitude will get you nowhere.”

“Oh? But it’s gotten me so far already…” you trail off, glancing at his lips for a few agonizingly long seconds before a smirk tugs on the corner of your mouth. “In fact, I think it can get me even further.”

Sylus’s jaw tenses, his eyes slipping shut as he tears his gaze away from you. He can’t handle the way you’re looking at him—so unbelievably beautiful with those siren eyes of yours, the mere sight of you already stirring something unwanted within him.

He turns around to continue leading you through the crowd without a reply. You begin to glance around yourself, attempting to plot your brilliant escape.

“Don’t,” he flatly states, his iron grip tightening on your hand.

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a strong tone of defiance.

Sylus gives your hand one solid tug before you’re standing in front of him, his free hand pressing onto the small of your back as he keeps you pressed to his chest. “If you haven’t noticed, you brat, I will always chase you. I’ll find you just the same.”

You almost deflate under his intense gaze, his deep red eyes piercing through your own. It wasn’t often that Sylus manhandled you, but when he did, it made you feel… different. Intrigued, maybe.

“How touching,” you deadpan, “but you still get on my nerves.”

Sylus clicks his tongue. “Tch. Oh, I’m sorry… when have I ever cared about what you think?”

“Never,” you say with a dramatic sigh. “You know… if you hate me so much, you should just quit on me.”

Sylus rolls his eyes, his red irises drawing you in like no other. “I don’t… hate you. You should be rather thankful that I don’t, because I’m doubtful that anyone else would want this job of mine—you’re quite the handful.”

“Mm, I’m only saying,” you murmur with a shrug, giving his hand a harsh squeeze as if the roughness of your grasp would make him let go, but he, of course, does not. “You don’t need this job, and yet, here you are.”

He raises a brow. “What do you mean by that?”

You smile, the same shit-eating grin that he has grown to be all too familiar with. “Give me your wallet.”

Sylus huffs, his broad shoulders deflating as he fishes his black leather wallet from his back pocket and hands it over to you. You take it with ease, taking your hand from his as you crack it open.

You slip his Black Card from the sleeve, proving that he truly didn’t need the job for any monetary gain. And then, a triumphant smile graces your lips as you pull out none other than a Polaroid photo taken of you—backstage at your concert just before the kiss you two shared.

“Ooh… what’s this?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

Sylus reaches forward to try and snatch the tiny photo from you, but you are far too quick. “What are you revealing exactly? That you were secretly snooping in my wallet prior to now?”

“Yes,” you admit without hesitation, “and that you’re secretly rich and in love with me. Does that make us even?”

His jaw sets, his piercing gaze set on yours. He works to snatch the photo from you, tucking his belongings back into his wallet before he slips it into his pocket. “No. Maybe if you were less of a pain, we could be even.”

You wiggle your eyebrows in suggestion. “You’re not denying being in love with me, dear bodyguard of mine.”

Sylus gives you a deadpan expression. “Must you always be so self righteous? God forbid I am proud of you and your success.”

The genuine nature of his words set you back a step, your brows knitting together and your lips parting. If Sylus noticed the shift of your expression, he didn’t mention it. Thankfully. His cold fingers lace with yours once more, continuing the stride towards the exit of the party.

“Rather than putting on this show of yours, you truly should be thanking me for saving your reputation,” he quietly adds, his hand now curled around your waist as you approach the exit. “There is a swarm of paparazzi outside who are desperate to get their grimy hands on a picture of their beloved popstar doing something remotely scandalous.”

(And if Sylus knows anything about you, it’s that you love scandals. According to you, they ‘make life worth living’. Tch. Diva.)

You chuckle. “Aww, you care!”

“Do I care, or is it my job to look after you?” he asks, plucking his sunglasses from his pocket to place them on your face, shielding your eyes from the rapid camera flashes of the paparazzi. “Public intoxication numerous times a week is not a very good look for you, sweetie. Incredibly frowned upon.”

Your jaw sets as you listen to his words. While they are undeniably true, you don’t have any plans for admitting that—not now or in the near future.

“Making out with my bodyguard is frowned upon as well, but you didn’t seem to be complaining about that bit,” you say under your breath.

Your voice was low enough that your weighted words were almost drowned out by the booming music of the party and by the chatter of the photographers you’re about to be engulfed in. Almost. 

Sylus flashes you a glare. “You shouldn’t mumble. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

“You heard me,” you state.

He did hear you, that was exactly the problem. It was no coincidence that the two of you haven’t spoken much since your very intense lip lock. You’ve been avoiding each other, evading the invisible string that connects the two of you like both an electric current and a noose.

The tension between the two of you was tangible, palpable even—you could practically taste it just as well as you could still taste his lips on your own. It was intoxicating, imprinting, searing.

It managed to distract you from the flashing lights of the cameramen who were swarming you, capturing flick after flick of you being led through the crowd.

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “You know, you can help me out with all of this,” you murmur, gesturing towards the paparazzi. “My publicist came up with an idea that will get them off my back for a while. Give them the answers they need and… whatnot.”

“Is that right?” he asks, glancing your way. “Do tell.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, tuning out all of the chattering paparazzi who are currently surrounding you. “Be my impromptu mystery man for the cameras. I’ll give you anything you want in return, I swear it.”

Sylus hums, the sound omitting a deep rumble into the air. “Anything I want? My, my, sweets, you’ve made me an offer I cannot refuse.”

You huff, grasping onto the collar of his jacket as you pull him into you. “Just go with it.”

“Just go with wh— mmph!” Sylus’s words were muffled by your lips slotting against his in a searing kiss, his hands instinctively finding their home on the curve of your hips.

The kiss was… tame. It was supposed to be, after all. It was merely for the cameras, a way for you to put an answer to the questions that have been flooding your inbox and left your name circulating in the news for days on end.

But when Sylus’s tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you slightly pull away, muttering a faint, “Sylus, what’re you…” before he pulls you right back in, his large hand now resting on your cheek.

“If you’re going to use me like a whore at your disposal, I’d suggest you let me enjoy myself and taste you properly,” he sporadically says into your mouth, his hand shifting to tangle in your hair as he tilts you to his liking, your tongues meeting in with gentle swipes. “See? I knew you could do better than that.”

True to his suggestion, you kissed him like there was no tomorrow, your hands fisting his shirt in your palms as your lips moved in tandem with his. Lipstick and paparazzi long forgotten, you find yourself getting lost in the moment, a soft whimper leaving your mouth as his hands give your hips a firm squeeze.

The moment he hears that sweet, impossibly faint sound of your pleasure, he knows that he’s in for it now. That’ll do it for him.

He abruptly pulls away, clasping his hand onto yours as he continues pulling you through the now stunned crowd of paparazzi. Sporting an erection and your lipstick smeared on his lips makes no difference to Sylus—if anything, he enjoys the world knowing that he has the hots for the woman who he has sworn to protect.

Sylus helps you into the passenger seat of your black SUV, closing the door behind you before making his way to the driver’s seat. He peels off, driving with intention through the streets of the city.

It was now evident to you that he was driving the SUV in pursuit of his favorite lookout spot, one that overlooks the bustling city from a distance. Sylus had taken you there once before as per your request to ‘stay out a bit later’. Nothing happened then, but you have an inclination that your luck has changed.

“I know what I want from you,” he states, placing a hand on your thigh.

How did he already manage to figure out what he wants in return for helping you? A raise? A car? The blood of his enemies? You’re intrigued, raising a brow. “You do?”

“I do,” he confirms without missing a beat. “Get into the backseat.”

A gasp leaves your kiss swollen lips as you mull over the utter implications of his words. It didn’t take a genius to understand them, but you were… surprised to say the least. “I think you’re overstepping your boundaries, Mr. Qin.”

In a literal sense, sure he was. But if the two of you were going to judge based on what you two want, he absolutely wasn’t—you both knew that.

He chuckles, the sound low yet infuriatingly sexy. His hand slips beneath your skirt, his middle finger brushing along the damp spot of your panties. “Your body seems to disagree with you, ma’am.”

And if you weren’t already wet before, hearing him call you ma’am was more than enough to do it for you. “Shut up,” you grumble.

“You can make me,” he suggests, setting the vehicle into park before giving your thigh a few pats. He nods his head towards the backseat. “Go on.”

Without hesitation, you kick your heels off and crawl into the back of the vehicle, thumping down on the seat with a sharp sigh. Sylus follows you within the blink of an eye, his knees settling on the spacious floor of the car.

“What’re you…” you ask, though your eyebrows raise as the pieces of the puzzle click together in your mind. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” he repeats, his warm hands rubbing your knees as he spreads your legs apart, his lips finding the tender skin of your inner thigh. “You know… you truly should be resting for your show tomorrow evening.”

“Should I?” You bite on your bottom lip as he leans forward, nosing at your clothed pussy with a muffled moan of his own. He inhales deeply, the scent of your arousal driving him to the brink of insanity.

“You should,” he answers, pressing an open mouthed kiss on your cunt through the fabric of your panties. “You should stop talking too. You need to rest your voice just as much.”

You swallow hard, whimpering ever so softly as his fingers hook beneath the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs to give himself access to your glistening core.

His eyes are set on your heat, his cool hands hiking your thighs over his shoulders. He rests his cheek on the warmth of your inner thigh, glancing up at you. “Because believe me, sweetie, the things that I want to do to you will not be in favor of that beautiful voice of yours.”

“Oh?” you ask, titling your head. “What will they be in favor of?”

He grins, wicked and devilishly handsome. “I’m glad you asked, because there’s someone else I’ve been wanting to hear from.”

Before you have the chance to reply, he’s already got his face delving deep between your legs, the filthy sounds of squelches and slurping filling the otherwise silent car.

“Oh, I— mmh, you didn’t answer my… my question,” you stammer out between breathy moans, your head tilting back on the headrest as your eyes flutter shut.

Sylus smiles into your pussy, pointing his tongue to accentuate the squelching noises that your heat was making, entirely wet and dripping for him.

“Can you not hear her?”

Never in your life did you think that having a man on his knees talking to your cunt would be this arousing, but… you’re fucking soaked.

“I-I can,” you gasp, cracking your eyes open to look down at him. “Fuck, you can talk to her in fifty languages for all I care, holy shit.”

He quietly chuckles, the sound sending a spark of vibrations onto your already sensitive clit. Your thighs tense, aching to close on him, but he keeps them spread with his strong hands on your thighs.

Your lips part as a string of breathy sounds leave you, beautiful moans and needy whimpers alike—all of which play as music to Sylus’s ears. It was nice to know that your mouth was good for more than just singing and bickering at him…

Teeth nibbling into your bottom lip, you glance down at him, only to be met with the most crazed eyes known to mankind. So disheveled, your slick leaking down his chin while his tongue delves into your heat like a man starved. He looks like he’s in his own pussy drunk heaven.

When you feel his pointed tongue begin to curve and lick in ways it hadn’t before, you do your best to follow his movements.

S-Y-L-U-S he spells on your puffy cunt with his writing tool of choice—none other than his stupidly talented tongue.

“You’re so—”

“Shh,” he cuts you off, his voice more like a husky whisper now. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, sucking on your clit before releasing it with a harsh pop.

Filthy sounds fill the air, your own breathy moans spilling from your swollen lips in tandem with the messy sucks of Sylus’s lips on your cunt. Not to mention, your girl truly was loud.

“Singing so beautifully for me,” he rasps, his eyes flitting up to watch your blissful expression. Lidded eyes, parted lips, flushed skin—an absolute wet dream of his come to life.

You bite your lip, hardly focused on the words coming out of his mouth. “Mmh, what…?”

“Quiet, sweets,” he repeats, hooking his hands even tighter around your thighs as he gives your heat a few more harsh licks. “I told you I was talking to her, didn’t I?”

It doesn’t take much longer for your legs to begin to tremble, your body writhing in his grasp as he sets you any way but loose. Your hips buck up, your core grinding against his wet muscle as you chase your release.

Sylus was more than eager to give it to you, redoubling his efforts while locking his hands over your legs to keep you steady enough for him to pleasure you effectively. The warmth pooling in your belly was far too much, far more intense than anything you had ever experienced before.

“Mmh, I… I’m coming,” you warn through an airy whine.

And when you do, Sylus swoops in even more greedily than before, his flat tongue lapping at your honeyed release. There was no way he would ever be able to go without tasting you like this now that he has. Fuck, he’s such a goner.

As you come down from your high, you grin with a few pants. “Look at you, falling at the feet of your ‘egotistical popstar’—mmph!”

Sylus plunges two fingers into your mouth to shut you up, rising to plant himself onto the seat beside you. “That’s hardly an insult to me anymore, my dear. I know what I am.”

He pulls his spit slick fingers from your mouth, bringing them to your pussy as he gently circles your sensitive clit. His free hand guides you through the motion of straddling his lap. With a simple nod of his head, he gestures for you to lift your shirt up, and you do.

“And what’s that?” you ask, watching as he leans forward to mouth at your breasts through the fabric of your bra.

“I’ve already told you,” he murmurs, bringing his free hand to his belt to free his cock from the confines of his pants. “A whore at your disposal.”

“I knew it,” you chuckle, though the sweet sound is interrupted by a breathy moan that he coaxes out of you once he slides his fat cockhead along your folds.

He clicks his tongue, tilting his head to the side. “Are you not going to reciprocate my affection?” he teases, grasping tightly onto your hips. “Or do I have to work a bit harder for it, ma’am?”

Your knees would have certainly buckled if they weren’t firmly planted on the leather seats of the SUV. Who would have thought that you had a thing for white-haired bodyguards who call you ‘ma’am’?

Sylus raises a brow, a cocky smirk tugging on his lips. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

You feel your face heating up more and more the longer you look him in the eyes, shifting your hips so that the tip of his cock finally meets your entrance. “Just… shut up and put it in.”

“How demanding,” he hums, smirking ever so slightly as he uses his grasp on you to make one sharp snap of his hips, burying balls deep inside of your heat. “But as you wish, pretty.”

You cry out immediately, the burn of the stretch fading into unfolding pleasure. Eyes locked on each other’s, breaths mingling with ease, skin slicked with sweat, it was…

“Perfect,” he whispers, smoothing his hands along your hips before one reaches up to cup your cheek. He pulls you into a deep, searing kiss. “So, so perfect.”

Your movements are timid at first, you were merely testing the waters that had yet to be explored. His cock stuffed you full, his tip kissing your deepest points with ease, earning a muffled whimper from your mouth that his lips swallowed up eagerly.

Sylus begins to help you move a bit quicker, rocking your hips forward in smooth rolls, earning moans from the both of you that seemed to come straight from your guts.

“Give it to me how you like it, baby,” he encourages, both of his hands planting firmly on your waist. “Use my cock however you need it, sweets, it’s yours.”

His words have your clit pulsating around his thick shaft, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you begin to work up a pace of your own that has your heart beating wildly.

“I always… fuck—I always knew you were obsessed with me,” you jest, your grin stretching wide.

Sylus hums, the sound low and deep, his iron grip on your hips helping you maintain the intensity of your movements whenever your muscles beg for a break. “Yeah? Needed me to be buried inside of you to have that bit of confirmation?”

You nod with a smile, hands wrapping around his neck as you plant your forehead against his. He smiles too, a breathy moan leaving his mouth as you circle your hips in a way that has him seeing stars.

“Fuck yeah, I’m obsessed with you,” he admits without a semblance of shame, tilting his head back on the headrest.

Already feeling your second orgasm approaching, you bury your face in his neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat that made a musk that was so beautifully Sylus. His hands smooth over your backside, giving your ass a squeeze.

“Tch, let me see that pretty face,” he demands, nudging you with his shoulder so that you were sitting up once more. “You look so beautiful like this.”

You struggle to form a sentence, bouncing unabashedly on his cock, skin slapping together in an erratic pattern that spurred you even further. A string of whimpers and whines leave your puffy lips. Though your reply lacked words, it perfectly communicated what you wanted to say.

“Oh, I know it, baby,” he rasps, tilting his head back again as his eyes slip shut. “Pussy’s addictive—shit, I’m obsessed with her too.”

You begin to lose yourself all together, reduced to nothing more than a blissed out woman riding her bodyguard’s cock. “Sylus, I… mmh, I’m gonna cum.”

He nods in understanding, smoothing his hand through your hair as he brings you in for another kiss. It’s all teeth and tongue, messy and drooling in the most beautiful way possible.

“Gonna come inside you if you keep riding me like this, baby,” he warns, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

You feel his cock twitch inside of you, as if it were confirming his words. You don’t do this often, contrary to popular belief, but you are on the pill. Luckily. “Please do.”

Sylus pants through a smile, licking his lips as he guides you through a few more fleshed out grinds on his lap. “Huh… you really are something special.”

A deep groan leaves his mouth as he dips his head, grip tightening on your waist as you ride him through your shared orgasm. You aren’t sure where yours ended and his began, or if you had gotten the order wrong entirely. All you know is that in that moment, the two of you became one.

Panting, your hand plants on the fogged up window of the vehicle, leaving your handprint in its wake. Sylus lets out a breathy chuckle, raising his own shaking hand to the window.

You watch through lidded eyes as he draws a tiny heart, writing his and your first initials inside of it with a little + in the middle. How cute.

Sylus then turns to face you again, bringing his hand to your cheek. You nuzzle into his palm, placing a kiss on his skin. “I have something to admit.”

He nods his head a single time, beckoning you to continue. “What is it?”

You give him a wry smile. “My publicist never gave me the idea for that publicity stunt.”

“…I figured that much, sweetie.”

note. bodyguard! sylus, my glorious king… ok i lowkey hate this but it holds no purpose saving up space in my drafts so :D pls interact if you enjoyed, rbs are greatly appreciated <3 thank you for readingggg !!!

new note: a part 2 of this fic is in the works! if you want to be tagged, comment or send me an ask ♥︎

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[jun3ee]

Smile for the camera

A/N: If you see the watermark and say smt- I’m hiding under your bed..ANYWAYS this was very rushed and last second, this request was from like a month ago so I’m so damn sorry, I’ll try to make a better vers but this is all I got, it’s just a short lil drabble 💕😪

MDNI ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚

I stare at the request in disbelief, everyone knew who Tom was at this point, he was such a major part in the industry.. Obviously not only known for his looks, but the serious length he had that got everyone infatuated. The way he fucked on camera was enough to get any living and breathing woman wet.. Maybe it was just dramaticized? He couldn't really be that good, right?  Oh god was I wrong…

“Say it again”

“I-I can’t!” 

I choke out, not even able to think from the way he’s ramming every single inch of his thick, veiny cock into my sopping cunt. His large hands dug deeply into my waist in a firm, bruising hold. Not letting go for the life of himself as the rhythm of his thrusts only get faster and faster, fucking me so well as whiny moans leave my parted lips, I was never this sloppy and pathetic…Shying away from the camera as he pulls my hair back,

“Tell them how good I’m fucking this little pussy, hm?”

“M-Mgh..” I choke out, gripping onto anything I can as his heavy balls slam against my sensitive clit with every thrust as I let out a yelp. Tom glances at the camera and looks at my fucked-out face, all that pretty makeup smudged, little beads of sweat forming as he smirks, watching my tight pussy stretch out on his thick cock, leaving a rough slap on my ass causing me to let out a whimper, slaps of skin and unholy moans filling the room as his pace mercilessly increases,

“Look at yourself, s’ch a fuckin’ slut, hm?”

He murmurs, his hand gripping my waist tightly as his other hand reaches out, pulling my head back and grasping my chin with his calloused hand, forcing me to look up and into his darkened eyes as he keeps thrusting harshly, watching my face hopelessly contort with pleasure as he smirks, his thick cock re-arranging my insides with a slight sting as my sopping-wet core adjusts. Every inch of his cock stuffed into my little cunt followed by him tracing hickeys on the crook of my neck and down my back.

“Fortfahren” (“Go ahead”)

He purrs out, abruptly stopping and sitting back… I should’ve remembered that damn script.. It was too late now.. How could I even remember when he was fucking me this good?

“H-Huh?” I choke out, glancing back at him as I whine from the sudden stop

“Fuck yourself with my cock, doll”

With no hesitation he pulls me on him, his length deeply buried in my core as I weakly bounce up and down, my legs already giving up as his girthy tip hits my cervix, his hand finding itself to my waist and guiding me, meanwhile his other hand snakes down my body, rubbing my neglected clit slowly and roughly as I let out a soft whimper. Looking directly into my eyes with his intimidating, darkened brown orbs, making me even more weaker than I already was.

“Atta’ girl” He says with a mouthy smirk, flicking his lip piercing, watching me as I whine pathetically moan on his cock.. At this point, neither of us cared about the script.. “Keep going slow f’me darling.. Don’t want you breaking down on me, do I?” 

“M-Mhmm..” I drag out… How pathetic I was to think he would take it slow? He abruptly starts thrusting up, holding my hips in place as he lets out a chuckle, his v-line flexing, the veins in his forearms popping, his cock coated with my slick as he keeps thrusting up into my tight little pussy, lewd sloshing sounds coming from the both of us as he holds me still,

“Mm- Tell them who’s fucking ya’ doll” Tom grunts out, his thrusting only getting rougher and rougher as he feels my walls tighten around his thick cock,

“I-I can’t” I choke out “P-Please”

“Such a fucking slut f’my cock this whole time and you cant even say my name? Yes you can” 

He groans out, still thrusting mercilessly as he looks directly into my eyes, his cock glistening with a coat of my slick.

“T-Tom K-Kaulitz..” I cry out, throwing my arms over his shoulder for stability, helplessly..

“C-Couldn’t hear ya’” He murmurs with a smirk, his thrusting getting more erratic as he reaches his climax, his face scrunching up slightly as he rides out his waves of pleasure, his cock throbbing inside of me as he shoots his thick white ropes of cum deep into my tight pussy with a groan, watching it drip down the sides of his shaft as it overfills me, fucking his seed into my cunt as his hips roll up slowly…

“T-Tom...K-Kaulitz..!”

[outsideratheart]

Shoot Your Shot (Alexia Putellas x Olympic Gymnast!reader)

A/N: I know it’s been a while but I am hoping to get back to writing again. Here’s a little Alexia Olympics fic. I hope you guys like it.

The night had been a blur but in the best possible way. Alexia had dreamt about representing Spain in the Olympics for years and to win a gold was always the goal. It was a goal she and the team achieved after beating Brazil in the final. 

She had truly let loose and celebrated what this achievement meant to her, her team and the people of Spain. 

Here’s the thing about Alexia, when she was drunk she became very very confident. So much so that in her intoxicated state she did something she has wanted for do for a while, she shamelessly slid into your DMs. 

It’s how she found herself standing in the Olympic village with her hands as clammy as can be the following day. 

“Ale, what’s wrong?” Irene asked her club team mate. 

The woman in question could only shake her head. Her thoughts were running 100 miles an hour and she couldn’t help but think it was a mistake. Had drunken Alexia stitched currently Alexia up?

“Haven’t you heard?” Jenni playfully nudged her former club captain “Alexia here got drunk and messaged Y/N Y/L/N. That’s why she is so nervous, she is meeting up with her this afternoon” 

Irene couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She knew Alexia was an admirer of you, everyone did. The Catalonian watched every single one of your events and if she couldn’t watch them live then she would watch them as soon as she got into the locker room. 

“You did?” Irene asked in disbelief. 

Alexia could couldn’t speak. She could only nod her head as a form of response. 

She thinks back to the night before. She had been celebrating for hours and drank bottle after bottle of the finest wine France had to offer. 

Hola guapa 

That is what Alexia messaged you on Instagram. The reason why you even responded is lost on her but she did make a mental reminder to ask you about it. 

“So?” Jenni asks Ale. 

“So?” Alexia had a dumfound look on her face. 

“What are you going to say to her? We all know that drunk Alexia is confident but sober Alexia is not, she is quiet and doesn’t make the first move” the forward knew her friend too well. She knew exactly what Alexia is like and once hearing about her quest, she made it her mission to help her. 

“I don’t know Jenni. I couldn’t stop talking last night but now, now I have no idea what to say” Alexia began pacing back and forth. 

The nerves were surfacing and they made Alexia feel sick. Not only did she think you were beautiful, you were also the most decorated gymnastic in history. That itself came with a level of intimidation that Alexia was dreading. 

She knew her friends were trying to help but they were only making her feel worse. She needed to escape but that didn’t happen. No, instead of peace she found herself being hit several times by her team mates. 

“There she is!” Jenni slapped Alexia extra hard. She herself was excited at the thought of meeting you. 

“Leave. Now. Please” Alexia whisper shouted. 

“No. Let’s go see her” Jenni had already started walking towards you. 

“You can hide behind me if you get scared” Irene teased her friend. It was rare to see Alexia this nervous so she made a point to enjoy it. 

You were talking to some other athletes when the three Spaniards approached you. You know it was rude but Alexia was the only one you paid attention to. You didn’t think it possible but she was even more stunning in person. 

“Alexia!” You were excited and it came through in your tone. 

You all but ran towards her. Did you look eager? Yes but you didn’t care. 

“Y/N, it’s so nice to finally meet you” Alexia did something out of character. She pulled you into her arms. 

This earned looks from both of her friends who upon seeing the midfielders action realised that maybe Alexia’s feelings were more serious that then thought. 

“So we are going to leave you two to explore and are going to meet up with the rest of the team” Irene nudged Jenni in the opposite direction of where you and Alexia were heading. 

Jenni teased that she would only leave if you two took a photo together. It was something you happily agreed to if it meant getting some one on one time with the Barcelona player. 

You and Alexia agreed on walking to one of the coffee shops located in the village, the one that had become a favourite of yours. Alexia kept stealing glances at you only she wasn’t being as subtle as she thought because after each time she looked at you, you felt a fire set a light in you.  

“Do I make you nervous?” You tried to lighten the mood by teasing a little. 

“Yes. Very much” Alexia was scared to admit this. Besides, she knew you knew otherwise you wouldn’t be asking her. 

“You weren’t nervous last night” you playfully nudged her causing her cheeks to flush red within an instant. 

“I’m sorry for that. I celebrated a little too hard” 

“Why are you apologising? Congratulations again” 

“I must have said some embarrassing things. It’s why I don’t drink and text” 

“Hmmm, you did tell me that but then you told me that if you didn’t use your liquid courage to talk to me then it would have been a waste” you couldn’t help but giggle as you recalled Alexia’s honest words. 

“I said that?” 

“Yes. Haven’t you read the messages this morning?” You ask knowing that you had read the messages numerous times since you woke up. 

This did nothing for the way Alexia felt. Should she have read them? Did she say something that needs re-reading? 

“I haven’t. Did I say something bad?” Alexia asked scared of the answer.  

“You didn’t. You talked about football and asked about gymnastics. We talked about how much we have been watching each other throughout the tournament. Oh! As requested” you reached into your pocket and got the pin Alexia asked for. You briefly looked at it. It wasn’t the normal Team USA pin, no it was your personal one. The one you reserved for friends and the athletes you respected the most. 

Alexia looked lost. Her gaze went from the pin, to you and the back to the pin. She learnt from social media that the Olympians traded pins but she had no idea why you were giving her one or what you meant by she requested it. 

In that moment you realised that maybe Alexia had drank a little more than you originally thought. 

“You don’t remember asking for this, do you?” 

The way Alexia innocently pointed to herself was adorable. 

“Yes, you” you poked her playfully in her chest “Last night we talked about what we wanted in life and you said to take me on a date and a pin” 

“This isn’t the USA one” Alexia closely inspected the pin you had placed in her hand. She then holds it up so you could see the pin as if you hadn’t seen it before. 

“No, it is not. I get asked to swap pins all the time and 90% of people get the USA pins, this pin” you reach into your pocket and show Alexia the pin in question “only friends and athletes I admire and respect get that one” you point to the one you gave Alexia. 

The Spaniard’s cheeks flush red as she rubs her finger over your name that was within a gold heart. 

“Gold?” She raises her eyebrows. The whole world expected you to get gold this Olympics, multiple at that. Clearly by the pin you expected this of yourself too. 

You don’t agree nor do you disagree. Instead your response comes in the form of a shrug of the shoulders. 

“I don’t have a pin for you” Alexia admitted.

“That’s ok. They don’t have to be swapped. I’ll happily give you it Alexia”

Alexia stood there in awe of you. She recognised your beauty through the screen but she soon learnt standing in front of you that it didn’t do you justice. 

You stood there is the same awe. Alexia was a sight to behold. You had watched every game of hers you could. Maybe you should have been cheering for the USA but you were raised a Barcelona fan so from the very beginning you wanted certain Spanish players to succeed. She was known as La Reina and now more than ever you understand why. She was a queen. Her eyes radiated under the French sun and you could spend hours getting lost in them. 

“Shall we?” Alexia held out her arm and you linked through them. The act wasn’t an intimate as hand holding but it was very sweet. 

“We shall” you wondered if the smile on your face was as big as it felt. 

For the next hour, you and Alexia walked around the Olympic village trying all of the different food stalls. When you see it, you pull her over to the chocolate muffin stand.

“You have to try this” you peel back the wrapper and hold it out to her. She eyes it up suspiciously as if she is thinking about whether or not to try it. 

“Alexia, I -“

“Ale” she cuts you off. 

“Ale?” You ask with furrowed brows. 

“My friends call me Ale” 

“Is that what you want us to be? Friends?” You know you are pushing a little bit but this was a date. You were trying to find out if Alexia asks her friends out on dates. 

She bashfully shakes her head which causes you to nod yours. This ends with both of you having shy smiles on your faces. 

“Try it. It will be one of the best muffins you taste in your life” it was a bold statement but you stood by it. You had eaten a couple of these during the last two weeks and you had a huge sweet tooth so you felt qualified to rank the sweet treat. 

When Alexia takes a bite her eyes widen, heR head tips back and you know she agrees with you. The grin that spread across her face when she looks at you is adorable. 

“That’s so good” 

She then takes another bite before taking it out of your hands and holding it out for you to have a bite. 

Time seems to run away from you because the couple of hours that you had planned to spend together pass by and before you know it the sun is setting in the sky. 

You wanted to squeeze every second out of the night but you remember Alexia telling you that the team was flying back to Spain the following morning. 

“I’m this way” you point in the direction for where you were staying. 

“I’m that way” Alexia does the same and of course her hotel is in the opposite direction “come with me” she tilts her head on the same direction. 

“Is that a question or?” You joke with her. She could have been asking or telling you, you didn’t mind. 

“Well you gave me this” she holds up your pin “you swap them, no?” 

You nod your head with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. Alexia said she didn’t have a pin. Did she mean that she didn’t have one with her. 

“So come with me and get your gift” Alexia, for the first time that day, sounded truly confident. 

She lead you down the streets of Paris. Like last night the two of you began talking but in person it got a lot more personal. You talked about the hurdles you both had to overcome in order to compete at the Paris Olympics and to do so at the highest level. 

Soon enough Alexia is grabbing your hand and pulling you into one of the 5 star hotels located in the heart of the city. You expected her to drop your hand when you enter the reception area only she doesn’t. The act fills your stomach with butterflies. 

When you enter the elevator and Alexia scans her room key you realise that she must be taking you to her room. 

She opens the door and heads straight for her luggage. 

“I was too nervous to re-read our messages. I thought I might have said something embarrassing. If I had remembered that I asked for your pin them I would have brought you this” 

She held up a red Spain jersey, her jersey. 

“Is this-“ 

“From the gold medal match? Yes. It’s the shirt I wore during the first half” 

“Alexia, I cannot accept this. It should be framed or given to your mother, not to a stranger” you immediately give her the shirt back. 

“I want to give it to you. Today has been one of the best days I’ve had a long while” you give her a look and she knows exactly what you’re thinking “one of the best days off the pitch” 

She holds it out for you to take. At first you don’t, you can’t. Alexia doesn’t budge and you honestly think she will hold out that shirt for hours if that’s how long it took for you to accept it. 

In the end you do grab the shirt but you also grab her hand and pull her close to you. You lean in and kiss her softly on her lips. Just as you are about to pull back, Alexia pulls you in for another kiss. 

“Now you’ve had everything you wanted” you say with a smirk of your face. 

“I don’t understand” the Spanish says. 

“Last night you told me you wanted three things. The first two you told me straight away and the third you told me just before we said goodnight” 

Still, Alexia was at a loss. You told her what she said she wanted and it was only two things. She is about to ask you what the third one was but then she sees you running your index finger over your lips and it clicks. 

“I told you I wanted to kiss you?” Alexia couldn’t believe what she had confessed to you. She would have felt embarrassed to admit just after spending the day with you, never mind last night when you were practically strangers. 

You nod your head. 

“What if I told you I wanted to kiss you again?” Alexia asks only this time she owns her question. 

“I’d tell you to come over here and get what you want” 

You didn’t need to tell Alexia twice. She strutted over to you with the most confidence you have seen her with that day. She cupped your face and pulled you in. The kiss was a little bit deeper that the first kiss. You slowly push Alexia back until her knees buckle against the foot of the bed. 

She doesn’t make an effort to push you off her. If anything she encourages the passion and you are happy to oblige. Both you and Alexia fought for dominance but ultimately you don’t get to find out how would come our victorious. 

The sound of a keycard been swiped has you both frozen in place but still neither of you make any effort to move. It’s as if the person of the other side of the door won’t see the two of you if you are still.  

“ALEXIA!” 

It seems the the woman who you are still straddling recognises the voice before you do. 

“Por dios” Alexia, whose hands are resting dangerously low on your back, taps you signalling for the two of you to get up. 

When you turn around you see Jenni standing in the door only she is joined by a different player than she was with this morning. 

“Nice to see you again Jenni. Nice to meet you….” 

“Misa” the keeper introduces herself “you’re Y/N Y/L/N?” 

The Madrid keeper also admired you only she was bold enough to tell her team mates she has a crush on you. Knowing this information is enough to wake the green eyed monster within Alexia. 

“Yes, she is. Sorry about those two. I did text them asking for them to message me when they were on their way back” Alexia apologises for the interruption. 

“We did! Look” Jenni shows Alexia the 5 text messages she sent her and then shows that she even tried to called her twice 

“Let them off Ale. We were pre-occupied” the smirk that tugs on your lips in enough to heat up Alexia’s cheeks. 

The four of you stand in the hotel room waiting for someone else to speak first. In the end a text from your manager makes you be the one to break the short silence. 

“I need to go” 

“No” Alexia whispers. 

“It’s late and you have a flight to catch in the morning” you move closer to her “thank you for an amazing day Alexia and thank you for this” you hold up her jersey. 

“When can I see you again?” The two of you lived in different countries and had very gruelling schedules but Alexia wanted to know that today wouldn’t be the last time she saw you. 

“You’re in America in the next couple of weeks. I’ll see if I can make it to one of the games so keep an eye out in the crowd” you kiss her softly on the lips. 

“Will you be wearing my jersey?” 

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see” 

[luveline]

Hellouuuu! I loved the Hotch teacher au, and I was wondering if could request more of them? Something a little more flirty/more direct but still a tad worried about crossing lines

—Hotch worries about crossing a line, but he can’t stop himself any longer. fem, 1k

“Hello, Mr. Hotchner.” 

Aaron is far past the age where he gets nervous around women —age, or something else?— but the sound of your voice excites his heart. One moment he’s relaxed, watching idly as Jack races around the park on his bike with a grin, the next he’s alert. He’s sitting up. 

He says your name more to himself than to you as you take a seat on the grass beside him. You’re in a summer dress, leaves of your skirt falling gently against your thighs as you shift. 

“Hello,” he says. 

“Hi, Aaron.” 

He looks over the sunny grass and his surroundings in a slow catalogue of threats. He chose this park because it’s small enough to keep an eye on everybody. There are no surrounding woods, no wild animals, and no chances of Jack being snatched. Or, Jack could get snatched, but Aaron had confidence in his ability to keep pace. 

“Are you looking for danger?” you ask softly. 

He turns to you with a frown. “Why, is there something I’ve missed?” Your laugh ends his facade swiftly. “I want to give you my full attention,” he clarifies, “but I worry when he’s alone.” 

“I can cope with half of it,” you say. 

In a move that awakens some young notion of romanticism in him, you rest your face on your arm, squinting in the sunshine. The golden hour kisses your neck. 

He can’t take it anymore. You’re Jack's teacher, but he can’t. 

“You look beautiful,” he says, tone lowered in an attempt to match the air. 

You laugh in your squinting and turn your face from him completely. Your arms shake with your laugh, the strap slipping down as you move. “You intimidate me so much, sometimes,” you say through it. 

“I do?” 

“I feel like you can guess everything I think.” 

“I can’t. I can try.” He looks down to see Jack’s discarded his bike in favour of kneeling in the grass, a stick in hand. “But it requires some effort, sometimes, and while I’m not uninterested in knowing what you’re thinking, I’m not interrogating you.” 

You sit up, smiling once again. “Well, what am I thinking now?” 

“I thought you were scared of me?” 

“I’m not scared of you, Aaron. I said ‘intimidated’.” You cross your arm over your stomach. “Is that okay? Will you tell me what I’m thinking about?” 

He pauses. Take a deep but paced breath. “You’re thinking about me, but… You have your arm over your stomach, and your chest. You're guarding your vulnerabilities and yet you’re smiling. You’re wearing a dress in the same cut as the one you were wearing when I first called you pretty, but you couldn’t have known you’d see me here. It’s new. A new dress.” 

You remember that he called you pretty, and you’ve begun to gravitate toward the same cut unconsciously, he can see easily from your little frown you hadn’t realised it until now. He has no intention of upsetting you, and he continues. 

“You’re thinking about when I’m going to ask you on a date,” he says carefully. 

“How could you know that?” you ask, still speaking softly, giving little indication as to whether he’s right or wrong. 

Aaron could tell you it’s a professional hunch. Isn’t that what profiling is? Educated guesses that are often correct. But it’s more than that. “You look at my mouth when I talk,” he says. He’s not condescending you but he can’t help laughing. 

“You look at mine,” you say. 

“I do.” He meets your eyes. You smile without shyness back at him, but there’s apprehension in your eyes that he wasn’t expecting. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Jack’s coming up the hill, but he can’t carry his bike.” 

Aaron winces. Sure enough, Jack’s at the bottom of the hill (which isn’t a very big hell, just Jack is still quite small) grunting with the effort it takes to drag his bike behind him. 

“Buddy! Leave it there!” Aaron shouts with another laugh, this one distinctly affectionate. “Come on, don’t make your arms hurt. I’ll get it later.” 

Jack drops his bike and rushes up the hill, grass on his knees and dirt on his hands as he drops himself down on Aaron’s leg. “Hi, Mrs. L/N,” he says. It’s a rare occasion where he doesn’t sound happy to see you, “why are you here?” 

You turn and point toward the cafe across the intersection just past the fence of the park. “I was right there finishing my coffee when I thought for sure I could see your dad, and I did. So I came to say hello. Why, did you think you were in trouble?” 

“No,” Jack says, driving his face into Aaron’s chest with a guilty giggle. 

“What do you have to be in trouble for?” Aaron asks him. 

“Nothing!” Jack laughs. 

“I hope you’re telling me the truth.” 

“Dad, I am!” 

“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “Just here to talk to your dad, that’s all. He’s good at talking.” 

“I know,” Jack says. 

Aaron hugs Jack to his chest with one arm. The sun will set soon, and he’s promised Jack they’ll make dinner together, that he’ll let his son do all the dangerous chopping if he’s super careful. He can’t stay here flirting with you forever, as much as he’d like to, but he can’t leave you hanging again —what if the next man who sees you in your sundress with your face pressed to your arm gives you the attention you deserve? 

“Would you like to get dinner with me?” Aaron asks you. 

“When?” you ask. You don’t miss a beat.

“When are you free?” 

“Anytime after three thirty,” you say. “Well, except for Wednesdays. That’s when I host craft club.” 

He holds in a smile. “What are your plans this Friday?” 

You shake your head, your own smile pressed into an excited line. “Nothing. I’m not doing anything.” 

“Then… it’s a date.” 

You press your hand to your cheek. “Okay.” 

He could tell you what you’re thinking now, just it might come off smug. And besides, he has a bike to retrieve at the bottom of the hill. 

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave you (Pt. 79)

(Sneak peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: It's Hoseok's turn to breed you through your heat, but Namjoon won't let him have it easily.

Tags: Heat sex, knotting, group sex, Sub! m/c, Dom! Namjoon, Sub! Hobi, d/s, threesome, comparing knots, Cumplay, size kink, big dick Namjoon, womb fucking, belly bulge, slight inflation kink, breeding kink, clit torture if you squint, overstimulation, voyeurism, squirting, messiness kink, inspection kink, humiliation kink, implied cuckolding, very brief human furniture, implied puppy play, puppy space Hobi, collars, dominance displays, porn without plot,

W/c: 10.7k

A/n: ahhhhh here it is <3 the second part of last chapter that i split last minute <3 more filth but at least it's hobi filth <3 keep your eyes wide open on the ending! this one is a bit of a cliffhanger <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Namjoon leans down, pressing a kiss to your nape. Meanly pressing in further, harder. You are so hot inside, the heat fever tearing through you now that you have a little food in your stomach and more energy to burn. Warm and wet and tight. Your eyes roll back and Hobi can do nothing but watch.

But Namjoon's pace stutters. It's understandable. This is the 5th knot he’s given you in as many hours. It's sometime after mid-morning and it's been probably around 30 hours since he's slept at all. Namjoon's only human. Even the pack alpha can't last forever.

Hoseok's honestly a little surprised that Namjoon hasn't tapped out yet, that his knot isn't ready to fall off.

But Hoseok watches his pace falter and Hoseok's lip lifts. It's an instinct to growl. Namjoon spies it, hackles raising.

Alpha instincts are a peculiar thing.

“You think you could do better?” Namjoon taunts, a little playfully. Arms bulging as he holds himself up, trusting harder into you. Almost in retaliation. Hobi blushes and looks away, successfully chastised.

Hoseok shouldn't be intimidated, Namjoon might be the pack alpha, but Hobi has still seen him put his shoes on the wrong feet before and leave the house- too many times to count.

The growl comes out of his mouth before he thinks better about it.

Namjoon stops moving.

Hobi clamps a hand over his mouth in surprise and the snarl becomes a whine. “Yes! No! Maybe- I think I-.” Hobi hovers unsure, bashful at being caught snarling at the pack alpha. Across the nest Jin lifts his head, woken up by it, hair all fluffy.

Namjoon is not one to let this kind of thing slide especially not during a heat.

Namjoon slides out of you, long and hard and hot. You whimper. You don't like feeling empty. You try to push back on him but are stopped by a hand pressed blank your pussy, Namjoon's fingers brushing your hole, fucked open and messy. Gaping just a little and dripping a pretty spiderweb like strand of cum down onto the nest.

You whine. Loud and grating. Hoseok's instincts make him want to gnash his teeth. It sets him on edge. Across the nest, Yoongi turns, distracted from his task of trying to convince Jungkook to suck on a straw instead of trying to suck on his dick. Alarmed at the sound of your whine and the desperation in it.

“Alright alright, calm down,” Namjoon says, kind of laughing through it, kind of high. Namjoon is the picture of restraint- he's not a knothead. He's not like Hobi. He doesn't snarl and push and fight at another alpha challenging him- No.

Namjoon looks at Hobi, a mean glint in his eye. Namjoon can get a little scary when he's got something to prove, even scarier when he's got a job to do.

Your collar is there by the edge of the nest, taken out when Jimin put on his, black with a golden puppy tag, the twin to Hobi's red one. Your pink one is showing its wear. It's worn at the hole in the buckle, the one that fits you nice and loose. Perfect as a handhold.

Namjoon points and Hobi gets it before he's even registered that he's following a nonverbal order. Flushing as he takes off the bell and then tries to hand it over.

But Namjoon just eyes your throat expectantly.

Making one sub-collar another is- well-

Hobi's hands stutter, shaky with anticipation as he tries to fit it around your throat. It takes him several tries to get it latched properly. Namjoon’s cock twitches as Hobi looks up for his approval. You push into his hands, purring loudly. No longer displeased at not being filled if you can teeth at the scent gland on his wrist.

Namjoon pulls back and away from you. Heavy cock throbbing and pulsing dully. There is a bit of whiteness, leftover cum, that covers Namjoon’s cock. Milky at the tip and pink. your pussy lips are also red and a bit inflamed from the ceaseless friction of his balls flopping forward and hitting where you’re sensitive. namjoon pries you open with two fingers, showing hoseok that you’re already so wet on the inside, full of Yoongi and Jimin's and Tae’s cum not just Namjoon's.

But not Hobi's, not yet. Namjoon should fix that.

Namjoon lets you go and reaches for Hobi's collar and puts it on him with out a word. so deep down in alpha space that even his teasing goes quiet. He tests the give of the collar, pulling hoseok this way and that until he’s satisfied with it. Hoseok whines at being pushed around, tugged almost until he falls over, but he lets Namjoon do it. Obedient.

Namjoon pulls him over to where he sits behind you, almost between your legs.

Namjoon palms blatantly between your legs checking with a dimply smile to make sure Hobi's watching. You mewl. But Namjoon just grins at Hobi. His fingers still hooked in his collar.

You mewl loudly and Namjoon puts his fingers back where you want them. His words summoned at last. "Oh don't be a brat, alpha's right here pup."

Hoseok's cock twitches at being manhandled, especially when Namjoon slides that hand down Hobi's midline, feeling him up and Hoseok lets him. Hoseok would let Namjoon do anything. he doesn't even flinch or growl when Namjoon pushes his thigh apart and pushes down his boxers. Palming his cock, examining him. Wrapping his big hands around it and testing where his knot will form. where it's already half popped. Rubbing at the sensitive skin and slight bulge with talented fingers that have Hobi panting in seconds.

It gives Hobi no small amount of pride that his hand does not cover all of Hobi's cock. He's still sizable. Hoseok's scent fluffs out a little stronger at that.

Namjoon has one hand in you, hooked into your hole to soothe you, and the other wrapped around Hobi's cock. he has both of his pups, right where he wants them. He tugs at Hobi's cock once, twice.

“Show me then, show the pack alpha that you know to breed.”

Coming Saturday December 28th @ 5pm EST (time Zone Adjustments Below)

[disaster-j]

What really pisses me off is people insisting the break-up doesn't make sense as its own thing when it's so clearly in-character for both of them

Buck has been in a serious relationship with a man for six months but hasn't said the word bisexual. We only know that's His Label bc Oliver Stark calls him bisexual outside of the show. Buck has had what seemed to be a perfect fairytale relationship with Tommy bc Tommy made him feel so safe and comfortable and taken care of that he just let everything else about his coming out journey kinda simmer on the back burner.

And, hey, there's nothing wrong with taking your time with that. But considering the scene at dispatch where he still couldn't talk about his sexuality in concrete terms, clearly he hasn't processed it much, if at all. Buck is the guy who dives deep into research at the slightest opportunity, him knowing so little about queerness and queer culture six months into a serious same-sex relationship isn't just out of character but a clear sign that he simply hasn't done any work to explore his sexuality for himself outside of his relationship with Tommy. Whether the writers intended for it read like that or not doesn't matter very much, bc that's exactly what I'm seeing here.

And, again, that alone as a reason to break up with someone is extremely shitty but that's also not what happened.

Tommy clearly has a history of isolating. He's been hurt a lot in the past, we don't need to know the details to know he's a deeply wounded man who spent most of his life guarding his own heart from the world. He told Buck and the audience over and over again, "I look confident. I look sure. I am comfortable. But it took hard work. I wasn't like this before. This is new. This is good but this is scary. I'm working on it I'm working on it I'm working."

He can see that Buck views him as something more, something better, than he thinks he is. Buck loves Tommy, Buck was infatuated with Tommy. Tommy was this perfect guy in Buck's eyes. And that scared Tommy. It intimidated him. But he kept going bc it wasn't a big deal and he could always remind Buck that hey he's just a guy, a guy who had done things wrong for a long time. But Buck never fully grasped it either. Likely bc of how good Tommy made him feel, he struggled to fully grasp that things with Tommy couldn't always be so perfect and good and safe.

They don't talk about that but they keep going bc they like each other bc they're falling in love bc until that six month mark they were both still fairly distracted by how good it felt to be together to really, seriously consider the ramifications of ignoring those not-so-little things they didn't want to face right then.

And then suddenly it's been six months and they're clearly both in love and they're both clearly not ready to be acknowledging that at all. It's been six months and they're just trying to match each other's pace but have never talked about what that pace actually is and then suddenly they're talking about how Tommy used to be engaged to the woman who taught Buck what a real relationship meant and they still aren't even ready to acknowledge they're in love but Buck is already asking to move in together and talking about marriage and they haven't even said i love yous and Buck can't even utter the word bisexual out loud but he wants to jump into living together and fusing their lives together.

But he's not ready for that. As far as Tommy can see he's not ready for that. And if he's asking for something so big when he can't even say the word love then maybe, in Tommy's mind, he'll never truly be able to say it. Maybe they'll keep going like this. Living together and being together but Buck can't face his sexuality as its own thing and Tommy can't face how his trauma affects their relationship and eventually it'll be too much and maybe Buck still wouldn't want to say it and Tommy would push him away like he pushes everyone away and then they'll be right back to that moment, weeks or months or years later, with Buck wanting more but not able to say those words and with Tommy wishing he'd left before it hurt so much.

And sure it hurts to leave now but at least now he's early. Now, Buck hasn't wrapped himself around every piece of his life. Just his heart. At least now he'll hurt but he won't have to move just to get rid of the scent of Evan Buckley perpetually lingering in every corner of his home.

Buck loves Tommy so much he can't imagine a future without him. Tommy loves him so much he can't imagine a future where he gets to keep him.

The break-up makes all the sense in the world. It just doesn't make sense that the break-up wouldn't force them to work on their respective issues and bring them back together stronger in the future.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Maegor The Cruel Would Include:

Dating him, King Maegor Targaryen, the first of his name, is like dating a wildfire. He is passionate about his lovers and the relationships he invests in. His intensity and desire for conquest translate to his love life. You will be swept up in his passion as you share your goals and desires, pushing boundaries of pleasure, passion, and commitment to new heights. You will become his queen or, if you are a bold lover, his mistress.

Dating him would be like dating a ticking time bomb. On the outside, he may seem like the perfect guy; however, underneath, there is a darkness that awaits only one wrong move. One misstep and the floodgates will open, revealing a ruthless, cold, and cruel individual. It is not for the faint of heart to date him, but it is a thrill like no other. It's a risk versus reward situation. He will either end up ruining your life or you'll end up spending your life together. Only the brave need apply.

Dating him is both exciting and dangerous. It's exciting because he is the king, and he has the power to take what he wants. It's dangerous because he is a violent man, and he doesn't tolerate any challenges to his authority. So if you want to date him, you need to be prepared to accept the risks that come with it.

Dating him can also be a difficult task. He is a complex individual with many layers to uncover and dissect. He has a tendency to push people away and keep them at arm's length. Despite his harsh words and intimidating demeanor, however, there is a softer side to his personality that just needs to be coaxed out. He may be cold and distant for the majority of the time but every once in a while, he does let his guard down and show the person he is dating the affection, attention, and love you deserve. It just takes someone special to break through his walls.

Dating him would consist of countless adrenaline-rushing moments that will leave your life constantly hanging in the balance. He is not for the faint of heart and he does not apologize for that. He is a passionate individual, and he is not scared to show it. He loves to live life on the edge and he expects his partner to do the same. If you can't keep up with his pace, then it is time for you to move on. He is not a person who is afraid to speak his mind, and he expects the same from his significant other. It is never boring to date him, one way or another.

Dating him isn't all bad. He may seem cold, but that's just his exterior. Once you break through, you'll find a passionate individual who deeply cares about those closest to him, including you. He also knows how to have fun. He'll take you on spontaneous adventures and surprise dates. Despite his reputation, he is also romantic, and always the gentleman. He'll open doors and pull out your chair for you. But don't take his kindness for weakness; He's a fierce protector of those he loves and that includes you.

Dating him is like playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. One day he might be kind, caring, and attentive, but the next day, he could be cold, aloof, and distant. It's hard to know which side of him you'll get, and that's part of the fun. It keeps you on your toes and guessing about his true intentions. It can be stressful at times, but it also keeps things exciting. And don't think you can get around him with gifts or sweet words. He'll see right through it.

Oh, jealousy. Jealousy can be a dangerous emotion in relationships. He is a very possessive individual. When it comes to the person he loves, he doesn't like to share your attention with anyone else. If he feels you're getting too close to someone else and he's not the center of your universe, watch out. He will do whatever it takes to protect what's his.

Affection is a tricky thing for him. He can be very affectionate and attentive when he wants to be, but there are just as many times when he can be emotionally distant and cold. As I said before, he's a ticking time bomb. One moment you could be cuddling up together watching a sunset and the next, he could be ready to throw down and fight. Don't let that fool you though, he does have a softer side. If you want his affection, all you gotta do is show him that you're truly one of his.

Marriage is his ultimate goal. He has always wanted to be married and have a partner by his side. When it comes to marriage, he's a very traditional guy. He wants a person who will be by his side, raise his kids, and take care of the home. He believes in the husband as the head of the household, and he expects you to play your role. He knows that's not popular for absolutely everyone, but that's the way he was raised and how he expects a family dynamic to be.

Children are everything to him. As I said before, his ultimate goal in life is to be married and have a family. He wants to have multiple children; and if the gods are kind, he'd like to have all boys. He wants his sons to grow up to be strong and fierce warriors, and his daughters to grow up to be as beautiful and intelligent as their mother. He wants his children to carry on his legacy and to continue the family line.

Well, if you end up dating, you'll quickly learn that he demands complete loyalty. He expects to be the center of your world. You will be expected to devote yourself to him, body and soul. He will give you a purpose in life, and you will fulfill it without question. If you want a life of passion and adventure, then he is the man for you. In return, everything you have could be taken away, leaving you with nothing. But that's half the fun, isn't it?

Dating him would be no ordinary experience. One moment, you could be laughing together and having the time of your lives. The next moment, he could be berating and shaming you as punishment for some misdeed or imagined slight. He's not one to hold back his feelings, whether they be positive or negative. He is known for his sharp tongue and his wit, and he will not hesitate to use them on those closest to him, if necessary. It's like walking on a tightrope; it can be exhilarating, but it's also dangerous.

Dating him is not for everyone. It's going to be a rocky roller-coaster with no guarantee that you'll emerge unscathed. He is unpredictable, he will push your buttons, and he will make you feel both ecstatic highs and excruciating lows, he's going to be controlling and jealous, and he may even scare you. He is not going to be your average boyfriend. He is not going to be Mr. Nice Guy. But, if you're looking for someone who'll keep your life spicy, dating him may be the right choice for you.

If you're looking for a man who is kind and gentle, look elsewhere. If you're seeking an adventurous and exciting relationship filled with adrenaline and drama, then he may be the one for you. Dating him is like playing with a lion; you must be prepared for the consequences. Be warned, dating him requires a strong heart and a brave soul. If you can handle the risk he presents, then you may just have a chance at finding true happiness, but it could ultimately cost you everything.

He has many kinks, such as bondage and other forms of domination/submission. He gets pleasure from seeing his love in bondage or other forms of restriction that show his ownership of you. He enjoys being in control over you and likes seeing you vulnerable and helpless to him.

His favorite kink is dominance and control. He likes to have complete control over his partner and loves to see you being submissive and obedient to everything he says. He may be somewhat rough and rough-housing in his sexual encounters but otherwise can be very gentle with you when you do something for him. He likes to reward compliance and will be very appreciative of it. He may have some sort of sadist tendencies as he will enjoy the pleasure of hurting his partner when you don’t obey him, to keep you under control.

Another kink that he has is the idea of his lover being so dependent on him. This turns him on as he knows he can do whatever he wants and you will come to him begging. He likes the idea of someone belonging to him. This could be tied in with the first kink as he enjoys having complete control over you.

Maegor may have another kink when it comes to punishment and discipline over his lover. He wants to punish you if you do something wrong or don't listen to him. This will make them submissive and do what he wants. He also likes to feel in control of his lover's actions and will always make sure you do what he says.

He also likes a challenge, so he will get into arguments with you and try to make you see things his way, if you give in he will get turned on by this. He also enjoys the power trip from knowing he is the only person you love and trust.

He also likes to experiment with different things to control his lover; for example, he may use different types of rope and restraints to tie you up and keep you from escaping, different toys, blindfolds, etc. He is also a sadist and likes to see his lover in pain and suffering. He might even get turned on knowing he has you tied up and helpless while he can do whatever he wants to you.

He is also turned on by the possessiveness and jealousy he feels over his lover, he wants you to be just his and only his.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

The other woman (I could protect you part 2)

part 2 of 4 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x maid!reader

synopsis: King Viserys is finally gone, but with his passing the troubles for Aemond and you have only begun.

warnings: mentions of performing sexual acts, period typical mysoginy, secrert marriage

word count: 1.4k

The night Aemond leads you down to the sept of Baelor, long after everyone had gone to sleep ironically enough is the night of Viserys´ death. The only person beside the two of you there is an intimidated looking Septon, that swears he would not tell anyone of what they were about to do. You can see in his eyes that he thinks this is wrong nonetheless, but what does it matter. If the seven wanted to judge you for the things you had done, so be it. You were not scared of them. The ceremony is held short. Only the necessary words are exchanged as to decrease the danger of a guard or anyone else catching you. Aemond holds your hand the entire time. His single lilac eye glassy and wet with unshed tears of happiness over the fact that you had agreed to wed him. Overjoyed in fact. When he leads you up to his chambers, that you now share, you are surprised to see all your things there already.

Through your surprise, you feel his trembling fingers undoing the laces of your dress. The dark blue satin slides down your body to pool at your feet. You step out of the fabric and turn towards him. Your lips capture his in the first kiss you share as newlyweds, while your hands make quick work of his clothing. The leather is cool underneath your finger pads.

“I must admit I am not as experienced as other men my age.” Aemond whispers his confession into the dimly, candle lit room.

“I will teach you.” She replies in a low rasp. From then on make sure to take it slow.

Aemond is different from Viserys, you can´t help but notice. All Viserys did was take. Even things that you never would have wanted him to take under any other circumstance, without any regard for your pleasure, let alone your well-being. The only care you received from him were the gifts he sent the following day. Alongside a tea, that as the maid told you, was brewed with the most care by a maester. Aemond on the other hand was gentle and sweet, yet passionate. He asked if what he was doing made you feel good and let you guide him to were you wanted him. He beckons words of praise from your lips continuously and once you had both finished, he holds you close until you both drift off to sleep. Still the image of Viserys doing unspeakable to you haunted you in your dreams that night.

It is a wonder that your marriage stays a secret for as long as it does, which is not very long at all.

However the day of Aegon´s coronation everything goes south fast. The day had been a mess from the moment it started. Beginning with the common folk being rushed into the sept almost forcibly, to Rhaenys hurting gods know how many during her escape on Meleys and now this. Your new husband and you had been called to Alicent right after the end of the ceremony, where she questioned your place at his side for everyone to see. The queen dowager was pacing furiously in front of you and Aemond, trying to process what her son had just told her, while Otto Hightower´s face was expressing only one readable emotion. A very clear distaste pulled the corners of his mouth downwards.

“I cannot believe this. This level of defiance is unheard of. Truly, this is something I would have expected from your brother, not you. And to think of the shame. First Viserys parades her around, bringing shame and humiliation to our family. Your father willingly put my reputation at risk. And now you wish to do the same. Despite seeing how her presence has affected us for years.” Alicent´s words are broken up by unbelieving chuckles. To say she wasn´t happy about what the two of you had done was a harsh understatement. Not that either of you had expected her to be.

“Mother…” Aemond tries to get a word in to calm her down, but it is to no use as she continues to speak in a frenzy.

“Not to speak of the fact that it was entirely improper for her to be alone in a room with any man. We thought more of you, Aemond.” Otto finally gets a word in between Alicent´s enraged rant. His voice is equally as cold as the look in his blue eyes and it sends a shiver down your spine, where one of Aemond´s protective hands rests.

“I have heard enough. Did you stop to think once that she might have done this solely to keep her non existing claim on our money? That she does not truly love you, but the power that is attached to your position as a prince of the seven kingdoms?” She massages her temples, as the crease between her eyebrows deepens in exasperation.

“With all due respect, your majesty, but I fail to see how you are able to speak about my feelings towards your son. As you have never truly looked inside my mind. Or spend a day in my body. I admit that what I did with the late king was wrong, however he decided to treat me the way he did himself. I did not ask to be given gifts or be paraded around.” You finally find your words again to defend yourself.

The newfound courage is met by an outraged look on both the Queen dowagers and the hands face and surprise by Aemond.

“The love I hold for prince Aemond is much bigger than the love the two of you could ever be capable of feeling for anything.” Your voice raises and for a moment you aren´t even sure if all you did this for is your own selfish gain. For as the words leave your mouth you feel your heart beat higher and a warmth spread throughout your entire body.

You realize you had felt like this for the past days. Ever since Aemond and you had consummated your marriage you felt your cheeks heat up whenever he so much as laid his eyes upon you.

“She is right, mother. Whatever I do with my life is none of your concern. I am a man grown now and I love her. That is all that matters.” Aemond speaks up as well now. Judging by the reaction it gets him, it is the first time he has spoken up against his mother and grandsire.

“Aemond…” Alicent tries to say something though she has to cut herself short due to still bring speechless at the whole situation. Otto however does not.

“You will stop with this nonsense this instant. On the morrow we will get this marriage annulled. You will get married to Floris Baratheon as you have promised Lord Borros and you better make sure we will never have to see this… harlots face in the keep or in King´s landing ever again. Have I made myself understood?”

The way the hand towered over you from his height alone would be impressive enough to shut you up under any other circumstance, but right now is not the time to stand down. If you aren´t sure of it before, Aemond´s headstrong gaze further assures you of it. Even though his hands tremble even worse than they had in your first night together, the palm of his hand that holds yours starts to sweat and he swallows heavily.

“I will do no such thing. I understand you are angry, mother. I know you cannot understand me for the choices I made, but I do not care. For the first time in my life I am happy. Truly happy and understood. And you can say or do naught to change this. I will stay with my wife.”

You squeeze Aemond´s hand reassuringly while he speaks. The look you give him is filled to the brim with gratitude. You let your husband lead you out of the room. Your gaze hardening consistently as a realization strikes you.

No matter your or Aemonds true feelings, all of them would only ever see you for your mistakes. To the whole of the red keep you would always be the woman that king Viserys used to embarrass Alicent Hightower and now to break the promise towards Borros Baratheon. You would always be the other woman.

[myddle]

Excised Tangent About Solver Powers

This was originally part of my mega-post on the Murder Drones Finale, "Okay Uzi, lets start Murdering, some Drones". I took it out because it turned out to not be as airtight as I thought (and also it kinda messed with the pacing), but I thought it was still a pretty good write-up, so I'm posting it here, with corrections of course.

OKAY, TANGENT TIME, Something I've noticed about the Solver Drones is that their powersets aren't always one-to-one. The Solvers seem to specialise, and do things that other Solver Drones can't do. It might not be a hard rule, simply a matter of practiced techniques, but it accentuates the drones fighting styles in a cool way, that I like. Anyway, the differences: • Cyn can create scythe limbs, tentacles and camera head limbs that can create illusions. These reflect her general creepiness and duplicitous behaviour, although some of these might be attributable to the Solver itself • Doll can teleport in a cluster of glitchy particles, and can also duplicate objects she maniplates. If I had to derive a metaphor out of that (and I do), I'd say they could represent her detachedness and tendency to see her fellow drones as interchangable and expendable to her goals (she slaughtered the whole Prom Court for her Queen Scheme in "The Promening" (and also just killed two fleeing drones for no reason??? (god forbid women do anything))) • Uzi can... I don't know, she's the only one with that weird tail I guess? She just got her solver recently, give her a minute. OKAY, TANGENT OVER, the point is that the Solver Drones have signiature techniques unique to them. However, these techniques can be aquired; after Uzi consumes Cyn's heart, she gains Cyn's mobility tentacles (you can see them when she's dead right after, and also when she shows off at the end), as well as the Yellow Solver itself. And she's not the only one; in her battle with Uzi, Cyn utilises a teleport very similar to Doll's, a teleport that, as far as I can recall, she never uses before this episode(it's always her illusions dissipating or something). She doesn't use it for mobility either; she just blips around to look intimidating and go for trick shots, and it eventually gets her killed, implying that she might not be all that versed in using it.

I crossed out the bit that turned out to be completely wrong; Cyn uses the teleport whilst possessing Uzi in "Mass Destruction", BEFORE she eats Doll's core. This doesn't mean the tangent is completely bunk; Cyn had consumed part of Doll's body before this point, and could have acquired the teleport from that. She also only uses it once in that fight, prefering to lean on [NULL] and her scythe limbs, so she might not be used to it. But that's not as clean a speculation as I would like, kinda teeters into headcanon territory. Headcanons are great, of course, but not really what I wanted for the mega-post. And so, the tangent lives here, in Gay Baby Jail.

EDIT: God damnit, she teleports in "Home" too! UGH, NEVERMIND, the teleport isn't unique to Doll, FINE.

I think Doll's still the only one to do that duplication thing though, so the rest still stands decently I guess

[thebiggerbear]

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - Rachel Gatina Prompt Response

Summary: Rachel, who has never spoken to you before, approaches you to ask for a favor. Despite what Bevin said, Rachel decides that she has to gauge this whole "being into girls" thing properly. And she's picked you to help her with that. ...Lucky you.

Pairing: Rachel Gatina x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I started quite a few scenarios for Rachel's response to this prompt but none of them felt right until this scenario popped into my head. I tried to keep this as 2000's as possible. Hope this is okay.

Both characters are over eighteen.

This is meant to take place right after the Bevin and Rachel bathroom scene in 4x13.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: mention of implied sex; internalized homophobia (I hope that's the correct term)

Word Count: 3757

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Rachel Taglist: @nancymcl

You can also read on AO3

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Tom version ✨ CJ version ✨ Anael version ✨ Alec version ✨ SDV Leah version

You were just getting your books out of your locker when someone suddenly appeared next to you. You glanced over to see a familiar redhead smirking at you. You rolled your eyes and went back to your locker. “What do you want?”

Rachel Gatina had been the new girl at Tree Hill High who was giving Brooke Davis a run for her money and her non-exclusive boyfriend. Now, she was besties with Brooke and constantly toggling between mean girl and party girl. Either way, she had never been very nice to you or anyone else (except Mouth) who wasn’t in the “cool cliques”. 

“Can’t one senior come over to say hello to her fellow senior?”

“When said senior has never spoken a word to this fellow senior? Then no.” You slammed your locker shut and moved past her to head to class.

“I’m speaking to you now.” She was keeping pace with you, great.

“Oh, well then let me put my entire day on hold since Queen Rachel is speaking to me.” You turned a glare on her. 

“Not queen, just…maybe a little royalty.”

You rolled your eyes again and kept moving. You were going to be late for AP Lit and you did not want to be late for that class. Mr. Barton had a rule that he enforced with an iron fist: one minute late, no class for you. He would lock the door and not unlock it again until the class was over. 

“As it so happens, I need a favor.” She was still following you.

“Oh, imagine that. A favor.” You still didn’t stop. 

“Oh, come on. For someone I’ve never spoken a word to before, you’re being awfully harsh, don’t you think?” She wasn’t wrong. The truth was that she intimidated you a little bit. And that was your go to when it came to intimidation: pushback and biting sarcasm.

“I’m late for class,” you threw at her. “And if I don’t hurry, I’ll be—”

She grabbed your hand and yanked you off to the side, right into the girls’ bathroom.

“What the— Rachel, what are you doing? I’m about to be locked out of class.” You hurried towards the door but she blocked you. “Rachel,” you growled. “The bell is about to—”

The bell rang before you could finish your sentence. You had now officially been marked absent from Mr. Barton’s class and you were locked out. Great. You were screwed.

“So you miss one class, big deal. It’s not like you’re flunking.”

You crossed your arms and sighed. “How would you know that?”

“I asked around. I make it my business to know. Now, about that favor.”

“That you made me miss one of my most important classes for.”

She laid a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry. Just tell Barton you had a girl emergency. He’ll offer you a make-up paper before you can get out the word ‘tampon’. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be lying to him exactly. This is a girl emergency.” She smiled, placing her hand on her hip.

You walked over to the gross looking tampon dispensing machine and gestured to it. “If you needed one, it’s right here. Are you out of quarters?”

She smirked and flicked her hair back. “I like you. It’s a shame we didn’t talk before this. I get the feeling we could have been friends.”

“A cheerleader hanging out with a loner? Yes, I can definitely see that.”

“You call yourself a loner?” She laughed. “You’re far from it from what I’ve heard.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “And your emergency is?”

She pressed her lips together and sat on one of the sinks, swinging her legs back and forth as she settled. “I’m not sure how to ask this without sounding…you know, gay, so I’m just going to ask.”

Your heart started to pound at the word ‘gay’. Oh no.

“Will you kiss me?”

Your eyes widened and your heart stopped altogether. Was she for real? 

She gave you an encouraging smile. “It’s just to see if something Bevin said is true or not.”

“Bevin?”

“Yeah. We had class together last period and we had to do this stupid assignment together. She said this thing and now I can’t get it out of my head.”

“So let me see if I’ve got this right. Bevin said something to you in class during an assignment you both were working on together and that had you finding me, who you’ve never spoken to before, to push me into the bathroom with you to ask me to kiss you but not wanting it to sound gay. To see if what Bevin said is true or not.”

Rachel shrugged. “More or less. Yeah.”

“Right.” You immediately began opening stall doors, seeing no one was in here thankfully. You then began checking underneath the sinks, the bathroom mirrors, anywhere a recording device of some kind could be installed. 

“What are you doing?” She asked when you quickly looked under her sink. “I said a kiss not…that.” 

“Wouldn’t you be so lucky,” you snapped. “I’m looking for recording devices of some kind. Someone hidden in here who’s going to jump out and let me know I’m on Punk’d or Candid Camera or something. Maybe you’ve got a couple of the cheerleaders hiding somewhere with a camera to take a picture. Maybe Brooke and a couple of jocks are just waiting outside the door to laugh and spread rumors.”

Rachel crossed her arms. “You are way too paranoid, you know that?”

You shrugged. “Can’t be too safe, especially when it comes to high school. Especially this high school.”

“I’ll have you know that most guys would be dying for the chance if I gave it to them. if I asked them to kiss me, they would already be over here, all over me.”

“I’m not a guy in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Of course I noticed, that’s why I asked.”

“So, you’re just looking for any girl to kiss you. Is that it?” Lucky you.

“Not just any girl. You.”

“Why me?”

“I’ve heard the rumors.”

You tensed up. “What rumors?”

She leaned forward. “You know. And I know you’re into me, even if you won’t admit it.”

She was right; you weren’t going to admit it. “Right, right. Question, how did you fit through the door just now with that massive ego of yours?”

“That’s not the only thing of mine that’s massive.” As if to illustrate her point, she leaned forward a little more until you could see straight down her cleavage. Well, she certainly wasn’t lying.

“Alright, first off, those rumors aren’t true. Secondly, let’s say I do this for you. What do I get in return?”

“This is a favor, not a deal,” she scoffed.

“How long would this have to be for?”

She shot you a look and sat up. “Wow, talk about giving a girl a complex. Is the idea of kissing me really that horrible for you?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m merely trying to determine what I’m going to be asking in trade.”

“Now, it’s a trade.” She huffed a laugh in disbelief. A moment later, she glanced over at you. “Five seconds. No more, no less.”

“Okay then, what I want in return is this: you never tell anyone about this.”

“That’s what you want in return?”

“Yep. I want your word that you won’t whisper a word of this to anyone. When you go away to college and you’re experimenting or whatever, sure you can mention that one kiss in the girls’ bathroom one time, but not here in Tree Hill. Never here in Tree Hill. Or to anyone from here and that includes Brooke. Deal?”

She gave you a nod. “Deal.”

“Alright.” Now you were feeling nervous and self-conscious. “So do I, uh, just come over there or do you come over here or do we meet in the middle or—”

“Just come over here,” she ordered, impatience coloring her tone.

“Okay,” you muttered, moving over to her. 

Rachel studied you and you began to feel like an exhibit in a museum or something. “So, we doing this or—”

“Shut up.” She cupped your face and leaned in, pressing her lips to yours. 

You were sort of having a little meltdown in your brain right then. Rachel Gatina was kissing you. The beautiful, cocky, queen of mean, sexy cheerleader Rachel Gatina was kissing you. Ever since she’d arrived, she had been turning heads, even yours. You never had the courage to approach her or say hello to her, even at a party the two of you were at. Especially since she didn’t seem all that nice. Never mind the whole cliques thing, Rachel had been right; there were rumors going around about you. Most of the girls on Rachel’s side of the hallway so to speak avoided you like the Plague and only acknowledged your existence to make fun of you or gossip about you if somehow the rumors got a second wind (which you made sure they never did, not from you anyway). 

But Rachel was beautiful although personality wise, she wasn’t exactly your type. Though she did prove to be a lot smarter than she let on. You may have asked around yourself, overheard a few things. Plus, you had it on pretty good authority that she may have been the one to cause the whole time capsule business which then led to— You didn’t want to think about that. Now or ever quite honestly. Besides, Mouth had made you promise to keep it to yourself about the capsule. It was obvious that even Mouth had a crush on her. 

You counted down the seconds in your head as you enjoyed the softness of her lips against yours, the smell of her perfume, the feeling of her hands on your face. When you reached the end, you went to pull back but she tugged you back in. Not only did she keep you there but she deepened the kiss. You could have sworn you felt the edge of her tongue against your lower lip.

You continued counting in your head and by 27, Rachel finally let you go. You took a step back and watched as she held her fingers up to her lips, staring at you. Then she did the last thing you expected (or if you were being honest, you totally expected it). She laughed out, “Oh my God.”

There it was. You waited for the joke, for Brooke to pop out of a stall that she mysteriously appeared into and begin laughing and pointing, for the whole school to start filing into the bathroom, one by one, to join in the merriment. “Yeah, that’s usually the reaction I get,” you muttered, wiping your lips with your fingers.

“No, not you. I mean…Bevin was right.” She laughed again, seeming almost pleasantly surprised.

And there was the joke. “Great. Glad she was. Now, if I can be set free from this Bathroom Bastille, that would be awesome. Thanks for the laughs.” You gave her a peace sign and began to walk towards the door. You fully expected to find some cheerleaders or Bevin or Brooke on the other side of it.

“Hey! Hold up a second.” She jumped down from the sink and grabbed your shirt sleeve to stop you. “You don’t have to act like kissing me was such a revolting thing for you to do that you’re now relieved it’s over. You really do know how to give a girl a complex.”

“I know how to give a girl a complex? You’re laughing after you kissed me. What about that doesn’t give a girl a complex?”

She nodded, sticking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “True. I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you.”

You arched a brow over at her.

“Scout’s honor.” She stuck two fingers up in a gesture that you were pretty sure they didn’t use in the Scouts but you kept that observation to yourself. 

“Then what were you laughing at?”

She looked uncomfortable then and you had to wonder if she had been telling you the truth just now. “That Bevin was right. …And not.”

“Right about what?”

She bit at her lip. “Okay, here’s the thing. I don’t know you just like you don’t know me. So if I tell you this, you can’t tell anyone at all. Even if they’re not from Tree Hill. Like ever. Got it?”

So, she also had a secret that she didn’t want getting out. You could understand that. You held up your fingers in the actual Scout’s honor sign. “Got it.”

Rachel looked uncomfortable again but her discomfort also seemed to be tainted by a little sadness. “I was telling Bevin that I never really feel anything with the guys I sleep with.” Ah, you knew where this was going. “I mean, I got this new body and everything but it didn’t change anything. Except for how they looked at me.” She bit at her bottom lip again which you were starting to see may be a nervous gesture on her part. “So, Bevin said she always wondered what it would be like to be a guy, checking out chicks. And I said that might be my problem, maybe I was into girls.”

You kept your face carefully neutral but inside you were half-shocked, and half-not so shocked. 

“She kissed me on the spot which totally took me by surprise, and asked if I felt anything. I told her I didn’t because I really didn’t. She said if I was into girls then I would’ve felt something because she’s a great kisser and I’d be into her.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that one. Maybe Bevin was a great kisser like she boasted but that wasn’t exactly how it worked. You would know.

“And you weren’t?”

“No,” she snapped. “I like Bevin well enough but no. The class ended and that was it. But then it got me thinking.”

“Ah. You thought you’d go to one of the girls rumored to be gay in this school and ask her to kiss you, you know just to make sure.”

“Well, not to put too fine a point on it but yeah.”

You snorted. “Well?”

“Well?”

“Did you feel anything?”

She looked uncertain for a moment so you figured the answer would be no. But then she surprisingly took a step closer to you, giving you a hint of a smile that was absent of her usual cockiness. “Yeah, actually.”

“So according to Bevin’s vast array of knowledge in these matters, you must be into girls then. Mazel Tov. I’ll see you around, Rachel.” You turned to leave, eager to put this whole thing behind you, when she gently grabbed your arm. 

You sighed and turned back. “I did what you asked. I don’t get why—”

Rachel leaned in, kissing you again. 

When she broke away, your brows drew together. “Uh…?”

“Did you feel anything?”

Hell yeah, you did. You felt that down to your toes. But you weren’t about to tell her that. “I, um… It’s really hard to tell. I might need further exploration on the subject.”

She let you go and gave you a look. “Really?”

“Yep. As a matter of fact, I’m going to go find another cheerleader and shove her into a bathroom to make out with her so I can find out. Great idea, Rach. Thanks. Later.” You went to leave when she grabbed you again.

Smiling at you, she pulled you closer. “Shut up.” She kissed you then and you couldn’t help but kiss her back.

You glanced up when you heard the bell ring again, signaling you needed to get to your next class. You groaned and it wasn’t because Rachel’s lips were attached to your neck. You both were currently in a stall with her in your lap (because she refused to get her clothes dirty sitting on a gross toilet seat though she was slightly taller than you with the heels she was sporting, which made positioning awkward at times) and you literally had been making out now for most of the period. 

“I need to get to my next class.”

“Skip it,” she breathed before kissing you again.

“I can’t skip it,” you panted. “I already missed one class while you’re having your gay awakening.” 

She pulled back, scowling at you. “I’m not gay.”

You inclined your head at her sitting in your lap. 

She shoved her hair behind her ear. “That doesn’t mean I’m gay. I’m just…trying new things.” She gave you a bright smile. “Besides, if I was gay, don’t you think I would have enjoyed kissing Bevin?”

“Yeah, that’s not how that works.”

“And you would know.”

“Says the girl who’s currently sitting on my lap and has been trying to convince me to meet her at her house later so she can get me into bed.”

She wrapped her arms around her neck. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Brooke won’t be there if that’s what you’re worried about. She has a date tonight. And I need to find out if those rumors are true.” She leaned in to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I hate those rumors,” you muttered.

“Why? They’re not true?”

“What do you think?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Good point. So is it or is it not true that you and Donna DiLorenzo went all the way in the eighth grade at summer camp?”

You couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Summer camp? How cliche.”

“So they’re not true then?”

You shook your head. “No. Donna and I were just friends. And I never went to summer camp.”

She shrugged. “Fair enough. But obviously, the other part of the rumor is true.” She smirked and ran a finger along your jaw.

“That I’m a raging lesbian who’s always on the prowl for girls? No. Sorry to disappoint but your friend Brooke made all of that up.”

She didn’t say anything to that. How could she? “But if you’re making out with me, then—”

“I like both guys and girls. That’s the real truth. Which goes without saying, is to be kept secret along with this whole little makeout session and what you told me earlier. It all goes into the vault, for life. Got it?”

She nodded, that cocky smirk making a reappearance. “So I really can’t convince you to come by tonight once Brooke leaves?”

You heard the bell again and you let out a huge groan. “That’s two classes now.”

“You have me on your lap, asking you to come to my house later so we can continue this, and you’re worried about class?” She actually seemed insulted.

“Yes. Because I don’t need the absences which will turn into zeros when they realize I’m cutting.”

Rachel studied you for a moment and flicked her hair back, holding onto you. “Well, since you don’t have to rush off now. Care to feel me up?”

You arched your brows in disbelief, silently asking if she was serious, to which she only smiled wider. “I hate you,” you muttered.

“You certainly have a weird way of showing that.” She ground into you and interlocked her fingers at the back of your neck, grinning. “Come on. You know you want to. They’re a hell of a lot bigger than Donna DiLorenzo’s,” she teased.

“Like I said, I hate you, and I wouldn’t know.”

“You’ve had your hands on my ass for the last half hour. While I’m flattered, don’t you want to feel what my other attributes feel like?”

“You mean holding onto your ass to keep you from falling? You’re welcome.”

“Come on.” She reached down and began to lower the straps of her tank top, her jacket having been hung up on the back of the door long ago. 

You stopped her. “If I agree to drop by your house later, can we stop this ridiculous conversation in its tracks?”

She shrugged, moving her straps back into place. “I wouldn’t call it ridiculous but sure. Brooke’s date is picking her up around 8:00. Why don’t you swing by around 8:30?”

Your jaw tightened. “If this turns out to be some elaborate prank with cameras and people popping out and Brooke, I swear, I will go nuclear on your secrets. The vault won’t be able to withstand the heat of that explosion.”

“You are so incredibly paranoid but got it, loud and clear. For the record, I wasn’t inviting you over as a prank. I’m not Brooke,” she finished in a whisper. She then cleared her throat. “As it turns out, I am inviting you over to watch a movie.”

“Awww. You’re going to show me your Girls Gone Wild collection? How sweet.” 

She swatted your shoulder. “Shut up. I’m talking about that movie The Grudge. Have you seen it?”

You shook your head. “Didn’t really want to if I’m honest.”

Her smile grew. “Perfect.” She leaned in and kissed you, chuckling into your mouth when she moved your hands from her ass to her breasts. 

You squeezed them for good measure and muttered to her lips, “There. Very nice. Happy now?”

“Not yet.” She launched herself at you, kissing you deeply. You barely heard someone knocking on the bathroom door for the fourth time since this whole thing started, and you had stopped counting the seconds in your head long ago. Rachel Gatina was making out with you and she was inviting you over to her house later to “watch a movie”. There was no way in hell you were passing that up or paying attention to anything else (even if you had been dying to see The Grudge since you missed it while it was in theaters). You had missed two classes for Rachel’s experiment, after all.

That made you pull back for a moment. “I can’t miss another class, though.”

She nodded, panting. “You agreed to come over later so, yeah. I got it. But you still have forty five minutes.” She gave you that wicked smirk again before moving back in.

You moved your hands back to her ass and she moaned into your mouth though you could feel the smirk against your lips right before. You didn’t know Bevin Prince very well but damn if you weren’t going to send her some kind of gift basket as a thank you.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

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[arysthaeniru]

Things I find are handled so interestingly well in the 2003 Fullmetal Alchemist compared to Brotherhood: 

Ishval! The true horror and terror of Ishval is handled so much better: it is the centre of the show’s thesis about the violence done against other people in the name of scientific progress and the empire’s violence

Speaking of: racism is handled better in this show too! The way that Ed and Al are so callous and dismissive about Ishval through most of the show, despite Marcoh’s warnings, and it really doesn’t hit them until they go there in person and realize that Rick and Rio have suffered just like them: in fact, Rick and Rio have suffered even more than them. Ed and Al can always go back to Resembool. Rick and Rio can’t. The casual racism of our main characters is really good! It’s very realistic that Ed and Al believe the racist lies about Ishval for SO LONG, despite rationally understanding the military is bad

Liore! Because Liore gets to have this back-and-forth with Ishval, you get this really strong empathy and solidarity between Rose and Scar, as this representation of Ishval and Liore: religious brown people versus the Empire coming to genocide them out of existence...the solidarity and love between Scar and Rose and the peoples of Ishval and Liore is really good!

Ed and Al really get to be kids and get to be wrong a lot? They get to be such unreliable narrators in a way that is so interesting! When they say something about alchemy or make comments on other characters, they’re often wrong and misguided! Ed’s petulance and anger and stubborn defiance and Al’s naivete and inability to question other people’s lies gets them in trouble way more often than it does in Brotherhood and it really emphasizes just how much he and Al are children out of their depth in a horrible system, in a way that Brotherhood often doesn’t. 

The metaphor of alchemy: Alchemy IS science. For all its goods, it is all the evils and fallouts of unethical science: science that is done at the expense of people, science that is done in the name of greed, science that is done only in the name of violence, and with this strong metaphor, the Philosopher’s Stone as this pinnacle of progress that is built on the blood of common people is just a less complicated metaphor. Because Alchemy is science and FMA 2003 is a commentary on imperialistic, colonial science that is so directly commenting on the Gulf War, it gets to say things much more angrily than I think Brotherhood ever gets to?? You feel the anger about the lies of the Gulf War in FMA 2003 and how it parallels to WW2 better. The animators seem more angry and I enjoy that more!

(More about pacing, characterization and the overall tone of the show under the cut!) 

Although the show ultimately whiffs it, the homunculi being the leftover remnants of human transmutation allows for so many climatic, interesting conflicts between both the homunculi and humans, but also between different humans! Ed and Izumi and their relationship in this show is defined by their fundamental disagreements regarding the role of alchemy and what to do with the homunculi: and it is SO good!

I love that the homunculi are resentful of humans for living and want the philosopher’s stone to be human again! I could do without them all being controlled by a mysterious entity who is so much more boring than all of the other homunculi, but hey. That happened in Brotherhood too, Father’s very boring. 

Speaking of the homunculi: they are so much scarier and intimidating!! When they show up to a fight, pretty much everybody loses! It’s great! It’s not until the last 10-15 episodes of the show that Ed is able to actually put up a fight against them, so you really feel the stakes everytime they show up on screen. They kill Hughes masterfully, they beat the shit out of Scar, they beat the shit out of Ed and Al, they beat the shit out of Izumi--they’re genuinely scary and I love it! In Brotherhood, they are able to evenly fight them SO MUCH MORE QUICKLY and I think it makes them less of a threat than in 2003. 

The main women in Ed and Al’s lives get so much more to do! Maria, Sheska, Izumi and Winry all have a HUGE amount of screentime compared to Brotherhood, where Winry is mostly just running around and has very little initiative to investigate the main plot! Here, she and Sheska investigate homunculi, participate in fights and really are emotionally impacted by events. Izumi barely shows up in Brotherhood ever, and she is a fundamental player in the game in 2003! And Lieutenant Maria Ross gets to really actually play the role of ‘first adult to be like CHILDREN SHOULDN’T BE IN THE ARMY’ which gives her genuine depth and emotionality. 

Oh, Martel’s a real character too! She and Al are fun, I enjoy their banter and I enjoy that she gets to really emphasize to Ed and Al that Ishval was entirely a false-flag operation 

Rose too! I love that Rose comes back as a real character and not cameo! I love that Rose’s rape too, is not just this moment where Ed truly and really realizes that the military does interpersonal violence, but also is something that motviates Rose herself! I love that moment where she screams at Ed to keep walking, just as he shouted at her at the beginning of the show. I love that her continuing on as a character means that Ed’s shitty speech at the beginning of the show gets to be recontextualized as a thing of strength again. I love her resilience, and I love her.

On the villain-side, at the expense of Greed being a character, Lust gets to be a very sympathetic character! I love her contemplations on why she wants to be human, I love her slow realization that she’s tired of the fight, I love her immediate betrayal of Dante once she realizes that Dante is just using her, I adore her and Envy’s petty bickering. She gets so much depth by being formerly human and being linked to Ishval. 

Speaking of Winry: Roy killing Winry’s parents is just. So much better. I love how it immediately breaks Winry’s faith in the government entirely, I love how much it really and truly shows how the Amestrian military is evil. I love how it really creates this moment of weakness and vulnerability in Roy, which he doesn’t get nearly as much in the other show! Roy’s too cool in Brotherhood! I love how young, sad and pathetic he is when he kills the Rockbells, it really sells the horrors of war much better. 

I really like getting to see Ed and El’s counterparts across all of the side characters: the characters that only show up for one or two episodes: everybody is brothers. Everybody is consumed by this burning posessive love. But nobody goes as far as Ed and Al are willing to. I love how they are confronted with their mistakes and failures everywhere they go! It really sets the tone of horror. It really sells Ed and Al as the protagonists of a dramatic tragedy. They made the mistake, and they will make it again, in the name of love! 

A small thing: but I love that Izumi and Ed disagree with what the Gate is? I love that Ed thinks of the Gate as Truth. And Izumi doesn’t! Izumi simply thinks it is a horror. Izumi thinks that what insight the gate gave her was not truth but something else, and I agree with her. I love the idea that Ed’s conception of reality is based on him being Mr. Edgy Angsty Atheist! I love that the gate is silent in 2003, I like that there are very little answers. And I agree with Izumi! The answer to the question: what lies behind the ultimate taboo of science is NOT truth!! It doesn’t quite make sense! 

Relatedly, I love that Ed learns all of his horrible communication skills and bottling everything up coping mechanisms from Izumi. They make all the same mistakes all the time! Izumi always takes everything on her shoulders even though she has help, as does Ed. Izumi never communicates her love and appreciation for the people around her, letting her actions do the speaking, as does Ed. They are terrible mirrors of each other, and I LOVE IT SO MUCH.

I like that Armstrong is not comic relief? He puts on ‘Mr Muscle Man’ as a facade about three times in 2003, and every single time, it’s a distraction, it’s supposed to make people look elsewhere. Most of the time in 2003, he’s incredibly solemn and serious, as he tries to endure doing the wrong thing in the name of duty. I love that he’s still suffering the consequences of being too kind in Ishval. 

I like that Mustang, Hawkeye and all our favourite main characters put Ishvalans in trains and take them off to concentration camps. It’s not very subtle with its metaphor, but it shouldn’t be. If anything, Brotherhood deeply de-emphasizes the horrendous nature of the genocidal play of the army and the constant violence they partake in. Roy and his people are so heroic in Brotherhood, and I really like how much they are complicit. How much they are ultimately soldiers who are ‘just following orders’ in a genocidal regime. 

I like that they don’t turn to act for the side of good until the very end of the show. I think it highlights the stakes a bit more. I like that the show makes us doubt Roy for a lot longer before finally giving Ed hope! It’s far more cathartic!

I like that Paninya ISN’T ACTUALLY A THIEF???? I like that Paninya is just a gal who wants to make her adoptive dad proud and she steals Ed’s pocketwatch not for Winry to teach her a lesson about how ‘stealing is bad’ but that Ed gets the lesson that he’s not the only one that makes automail work for him! I love that Ed loses actually in 2003!

I really enjoy Fletcher and Russell. Fletcher especially is my good boy. He and Al should hang out more :) 

I really like that Kimblee starts out as a fugitive in 2003! There is something so slimey in Brotherhood where the army just immediately takes him out of jail to track the Elric brothers: it definitely shows just how evil the Amestrian army is, but I think I prefer him being a traitor to Greed’s gang! I love how much more personal Martel makes her fury with him! I like how it takes a while for the military to take him back in here, mostly because it allows for Archer to be a character instead. 

I think Archer being a character makes Kimblee more effective: Kimblee is not Ed’s enemy. He’s Scar’s enemy. And I LOVE that in 2003. 

Archer’s initial attempt to do the right thing instantly being overtaken by craven greed is also a really fun arc! I just enjoy more military characters getting to be pieces of shit. 

Scar gets to interact with more Ishvalan characters because he’s not tied down by far too large an entourage cast, and as a result, he is just. SO much better. I love that he and his mentor fight and talk and he ties himself to the refugees of Ishval in a way he doesn’t quite get to in Brotherhood. I LOVE his determination to make a Philosopher’s Stone out of the military’s lives. I love that he has no hesitation about it either. This is praxis!

I love that Ishvalan people’s legacy is alchemy too! I like that alchemy is the lost art, the old art, and not something that missed Ishvalans by entirely! Although I do like that Scar’s brother in Brotherhood is trying to combine alchemy and alkahestry, I LOVE that 2003 is simply him going back to Ishval’s ancient history. It makes the science metaphor more interesting, especially when you see that apparently the ancient Ishavalsn found out how to make a Philosopher’s Stone and then rejected it and alchemy entirely as a result. I think it’s really interesting worldbuilding! 

I love that whole sequence where Ed kind of makes Wrath’s hatred of him worse? I love how mean and obsessive Ed can be in the show sometimes, I love how flawed and interesting he is. He really feels like a teenager lashing out against the cruel world, and it emphasizes the tragedy of it all.

I love that Hohenheim’s immortality is NOT an accident. I like that he actively did evil things to gain immortality and I like that now his is a story of regret! I think it makes Hohenheim so much more compelling when he is a man seeking repetence for an actual sin instead of being tricked? I think it’s more compelling that he has the same sins as his sons. I like that he was the first to do human transmutation and the first to make a Philosopher’s stone, and that these are Ed and Al’s legacy?? It’s so interesting and fun!

The slow pacing really allows for the tragedy to actually build! I love how slow yet purposeful all the episodes are! The only truly filler episodes are the weird episode about the sexy female thief that keeps tricking Al because Al is too horny/naive, and the Mustang Team’s side adventures. Every other filler episode is doing important work for building the themes of the show! And even the two filler episodes are doing importent things re: characterization! 

Shou Tucker is such a CREEPY minor villain that is used to perfection in 2003. I love how he keeps showing up, I love how awful he is, and I love how much more significant he and Nina are to 2003, because Ed and Al spend four episodes with them instead of their story being wham-blam-ka-blam like it is in Brotherhood, where everything with them happens in 1 episode. 

Laboratory Five is SO MUCH MORE DEVASTATING as a dramatic tension point for Ed! I love how much more evil it is! I love how much more hopeless the situation is. I LOVE the dramatic irony of Ed almost killing hundreds of people because he believed Shou Tucker, despite everything. It’s so good. It makes Brotherhood’s Lab Five Arc pale in comparison. 

Hot Take: I kind of love that Ed goes to Nazi Germany by going through the Gate xD They don’t spend nearly enough time on it, but I kind of adore it anyway. FMA 2003 said subtlety is for cowards, and they were CORRECT!

Things I think weren’t as good but still interesting

Brotherhood really went off with making the homunculus the root of the nation-state of Amestris. I love that in Brotherhood, the state was founded for the explicit purpose of genocidal violence, and the homunuculus as simply the underside of the genocidal turn, the secret police that make the state violence seem legitimate. The hazy relationship between the military/state and the homunuculus muddies the otherwise clear message that 2003 is going for re: state violence and the role of science in perpetrating/continuing violence. 

Dante’s bad. Not that Father is GOOD, not in any way, but Dante’s plan is very stupid and is very underexplained. Why do Trisha and Bradley still follow Dante when she clearly reveals she’s just using them  to prolong her own life and has no intention of making them human? Why do they not immediately just turn traitor like Lust does--the show never builds any real loyalty between Dante and the other homunculi, which makes for a rushed climax, alas. (I do LOVE her and Hohenheim’s bodies physically rotting, that’s some really fun body horror! And I can’t help it, I love exes who were evil scientists and one continued to be evil, and one repented. It’s a fun trope and it was DEEPLY underutilized, alas)

I’m sad Scar died! 2003 obviously has an incredibly high body count and I  defend all of them, but Scar dying is just kinda sad! I like that he has to live with himself in Brotherhood and make Ishval again. 

Greed doesn’t get to do much at all, and his weird acceptance of his own death is VERY strange compared to his own acceptance of being a man so greedy that he wants everything. Although I ended up liking his role as Ed’s first murder, I think Greedling is SUCH a highlight of Brotherhood, that its absence felt jarring. 

May Chang and Ling are such good characters, and I miss Xing! I think I really end up liking 2003′s laser focus on Ishval more, in the end, I think it does a better job of focusing on genocide and racial violence as the catalyst for the state’s and science’s expansion. But May and Ling are such lovely characters and I missed them. 

Al’s angst about maybe not being a real person goes on for SO LONG. I forgot it’s like a full four episodes! It’s the one emotional stake that doesn’t quite feel as impactful as the rest of the show. 

Sloth-Trisha had so much potential that was squandered, I loved when she finally became a fighting antagonist, but I wish they’d spent more time on Ed and Al arguing about her and what to do with her/what she means. I mean, it tracks with them both: that Al instantly goes ‘oh, homunculi are remnants of human transormati--OMIGOD MOM’S OUT THERE’ and Ed’s like ‘i refuse to think about this until the last possible minute’ it’s very in character, but it means they never get to really fight about killing Sloth-Trisha, which is a shame! 

[chococrepes-art]

Zero Talk + theories and predictions for the 2,763 subscribers special!!!!

Stupid fast paced prediction(s) time before the new subscriber special comes out today, LET'S GO!

Analyzing the doodles

Ok, first of all, there's a question mark on Nine's face, what if Nine is secretly a Zero but changed in some way? Also let's analyse the faces that the algebraliens are making in the first picture, first up: Fourteen is fuming with anger, Ten looks worried and sad maybe even disappointed, Six Eight and Two just look normal I guess, Seven looked happy to me at first but now that I looked more he looks mischievous and almost evil but maybe not fully there yet or at the very least very excited and in a weird way intimidating like he's looking down on us with a crazy happiness, Fifteen looks annoyed mad, and Five looks mad but not as bad as Fourteen. And then of course, Nine has a question mark on their face so I'm really worried about what that could mean, maybe that's not the real Nine and somebody turned into a nine like we've seen happen before, or maybe Nine is Seven but I doubt that that sounds way more weird and unlikely. Now it seems like the episode could potentially have Zero be the Star of the show again (again?), but who knows? It would be cool, I wouldn't mind it one bit, Zero up until this point has been the G.O.A.T. but it could also just not be the case and they used Zero because come-on it's Zero they're iconic when it comes to the subscriber specials.

Old theory I wanted to mention:

Ok now second of all, a long time ago I was expecting this subscriber special episode to be about Ten turning into Eleven, but not in a fake fusion with One way but rather a more genuine Ten upgrading themself way, or to explain if numbers can get bigger or smaller in a true way rather than the temporary way or not. Like maybe everybody was a Zero before and that's why there's so many Zeros, not because it's Zero's power to clone/splinter themself alone easily but because they all could become bigger numbers but they didn't care or want to do so. Now idk if that's actually what's going to happen. This is probably not going to be the case either considering the book of division Fourteen had, like nowadays it seems like the numbers have always been the numbers they are, but I wanted to mention this theory even if it might be wrong to not lose it to time since I had this Ten theory for a while and remembered it now.

Time for the Zero talk!

I also wonder if we are going to get confirmation on whether or not the other Zeros are their own people and individuals, or like I said before Zero just has multiple bodies but it's the same singular mind/person and havening multiple bodies is just their power or one of their preferred powers. It's kinda implied that all the Zeros are different individuals since Nine said in a special "Whhhy do we care about what the stupid Zeros think? They're literally nothing!" Like zeros at plural, like it's not some kind of hivemind/person with multiple bodies, it's a bunch of different individuals. This begs the question, are there multiple individuals of every number, or are the Zeros just special? All the Zeros have the same color implying that if there were multiple let's say Sixes they'd all be the same cyan color as our Six, but would they all have similar or the same personalities or would they actually have different personalities? We don't really know that because it at the very least seems like there's only one Zero that can speak and only one of them interacted at once, so I'm not even sure if they'd have the same voice or not, meaning that all the talking Zeros we've seen up until this point could be different individuals and we wouldn't even have known, I doubt that's actually the case since the talking Zero seems consistent I guess but it's a possibility (I guess). I would really like it if this episode was clearing up those questions of whether those Zeros are all the same person/mind/individual or weather they are separate different people from eachother.

This would be a great opportunity to see just how cannon or non cannon those subscriber specials are but who knows, the best way to see is in episodes, because the episodes are actually cannon.

[pinkywgirllover]

Promise-Laufey

Characters: Kiyoomi Sakusa x reader

you and sakusa were walking towards the school exit and sakusa stopped a few steps before while you were walking.

(_): Something happens?

You turn to look at your friend but as you did so you felt him hug you.

Sakusa: I think...that I lik-

Sakusa quickly breaks away from the hug. suddenly a girl is shouting your name from outside the school

(_): Dear! I'm coming wait a little

Look at Sakusa again but he was already leaving back to school.

You turned your head to the side watching your friend leave but you couldn't think much about it and your friend was already pulling your arm to go shopping.

๑: It's late (_), we won't be able to see what I wanted to show you

(_): It's okay, just... It doesn't matter, let's go.

You left, turning your back on the school, but Sakura looked at you from a distance.

Admiring another missed opportunity, where he could tell you how he feels about you more than 3 years ago

Sakusa arrived home and went straight to take a shower to wash off the dirt from the street, but just before taking a shower he looked in the mirror.

Sakusa: Another day

Sakusa After bathing he came out of the shower straight to his room and looked at his phone, he had a message from you.

(_): Hi! ☺️

(_): Sorry my friend, what did you want to tell me?

.It doesn't matter :Sakusa

.I have to tell you in person :Sakusa

(_): Oh, Everything is alright?

(_):If it's really something bad, sorry, sometimes I don't notice if I do something bad.

(_): You know how I am 😣

.It's not bad at all :Sakusa

.I think so :Sakusa

(_): So you think!? 😖!?

Sakusa left his phone with the chat open and lay down on his bed looking at the ceiling.

Sakusa: Nothing bad?

Sakusa He looked at his phone and smiled as he looked at the chat.

(_):You leave me with doubt 😞

(_): Can you give me a clue?

(_):Hi?

(_): Sakusa?

(_): Pretty boy?

He knew that you were very affectionate with everyone but sometimes he would like that to be just for him or he would like to feel special to you but not.

*Tomorrow*

(_):Hi! How are you?

You approached sakusa while he was walking to his classroom.

Sakusa: hello

(_): What did you want to say to me? Can't sleep all night thinking about what you wanted to tell me!

You stood in front of the boy to stop his pace and look him in the eyes, your hands were on your hips trying to look intimidating but it didn't help much, he looked at you and let out a small giggle.

Sakusa: I don't think I can tell you now

(_): What!?

The boy surrounded you but you took his arm, crossing him and walking beside him.

(_): So when!? You are killing me

You made a dramatic gesture for the boy to tell you but he simply looked you in the eyes as they walked.

(_): Let me guess, it's because he was late?

Sakusa: No

(_): Do you have a problem at home?

Sakusa: No

You remained silent, looking at him and stopped again in front of him.

(_): Don't you want to be friends anymore?

Sakusa: What?

You looked at the boy with shiny eyes.

(_): If that's really what I want you to tell me now

You looked the boy in the eyes, you could feel your throat closing, your vision was blurry and your chest hurt.

He took you by the shoulders and looked around, took you by the hand and took you to an empty classroom.

Sakusa: Never, don't even think about it

(_): So why don't you tell me? I feel like I did something wrong

You and Sakusa stayed silent for a few seconds.

Sakusa: How can it be so!?

Sakusa looked very upset and his knuckles were already white from how hard he squeezed his hands.

(_): Pretty boy?

Sakusa: Do not call me that way

You looked at sakusa and just looked away.

(_): Sorry... I didn't mean to bother you.

He looked at you for a few seconds and you looked at him again.

He had his mask on his chin and you could see how red his face was.

Sakusa: me, you...

You looked at the boy and noticed the signs, telling you to ignore them for years and now you were in this situation with him.

Sakusa: I like you

(_): Sakusa...

Sakusa: No, please, I've been doing it for years trying to be different with you so I can know if you... But really, I've never felt like this. I love you with all my being, you're a part of my heart.

(_): Hey...

Sakusa: It hurts to be something, it's worse to be nothing with you, Please do not leave me

You looked into Sakusa's eyes as you felt your tears fall, you jumped into his arms, you hugged him, your face burned as you cried in his arms.

(_): I love you too, I promise

I love Laufey's songs, I think I'll start doing more stories with song themes ｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

You could say that this is a continuation of the previous story. (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Hey I'm the same anon who did the last ask on Peter from your boyfriend, I wanted to make another request for him. I was wondering if you could do a angst to fluff fic where he comforts y/n because their scared he'll get bored of them. They know out of all people they shouldn't think that about him, but they just don't understand why he likes them. Also, can I be called "✨anon"?

A/N: OMG YAYAYYYY HII ✨ ANON!! I’ve never had anyone ask to be a specific anon before so this is very exciting for me. Thank you SOO much for your request!! I hope I did good!!

Warnings: conflicting feelings!

Navigation!!

Good Enough

The air in your apartment felt heavy. The kind of suffocating stillness that made every sound seem too loud, every creak in the walls feel like a scream. You sat on the couch, knees tucked to your chest, staring blankly at your hands. A part of you regretted saying anything at all, but it was too late now. Peter stood in front of you, his face a mix of frustration and disbelief, lips pressed into a tight line as if holding back words that threatened to spill over.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair, pacing back and forth. “You really think I’m just… what? Gonna get bored of you? Walk away like you’re some kind of temporary distraction? After everything?”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried weight. Every word felt like it was pressing down on your chest. You didn’t look up. You couldn’t. Instead, you focused on the faint tremor in your hands, the way your nails dug into your palms.

“I know it sounds stupid,” you whispered, barely audible. “But sometimes… I just don’t understand why you’re here. Why you… chose me.”

Peter froze mid-step, his head snapping toward you. His eyes, usually soft and teasing, were sharp now, almost cutting. “That’s what this is about? You think I chose wrong?” His tone was dripping with incredulity, but there was a flicker of something else—something more vulnerable hiding underneath the anger.

You flinched at his words, feeling your throat tighten. “I’m not saying you did. I just… I can’t help thinking you’ll wake up one day and realize I’m not enough. That there’s nothing special about me. And you… you deserve someone special, Peter.”

His jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides. He exhaled through his nose, sharp and slow, like he was trying to calm himself down. “God, you don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice lower now, tinged with an edge of bitterness. “I don’t want ‘someone special.’ I don’t want some idealized version of a person who doesn’t exist. I want you. Just you.”

The weight of his words hung between you, but it only made the knot in your chest tighten. “But why?” you pressed, your voice cracking. “Why me? I’m not like you, Peter. I’m not confident or charming or—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his tone sharp enough to make you fall silent. He stepped closer, towering over you now. His shadow fell over your curled-up form, but instead of feeling intimidating, it felt grounding, like he was pulling you back to reality. “You think I’m gonna get bored of you? That I’m gonna just decide you’re not worth my time anymore? Jesus, do you even know how infuriating that is to hear from you? After all the shit I’ve done to keep you in my life?”

His words were harsh, but there was a tremor in his voice now, something raw and unfiltered slipping through. You finally looked up, meeting his eyes. They weren’t angry anymore—just hurt. Deeply, painfully hurt.

“You’re the only goddamn person who makes me feel like I’m not some… monster,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “You look at me like I’m worth something. Like I’m more than all the shit I’ve done, all the people I’ve hurt. And you sit here, telling me you don’t get why I like you? That you’re not enough?” He scoffed, but it was shaky, his shoulders slumping as he stared down at you. “You’re more than enough. You’re everything.”

Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision as his words sank in. You hadn’t meant to hurt him. You never wanted to make him feel like this, but your insecurities had spilled over, poisoning something that was supposed to be beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, your voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop apologizing,” he said, his tone softening but still firm. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands reaching out to gently pry yours away from where they were clutching your legs. His touch was warm, grounding, as his fingers laced through yours. “You don’t get to apologize for feeling like this. But don’t you dare think for one second that you’re not enough for me.”

His gaze bore into yours, intense and unwavering. “You’re messy. You’re anxious. You overthink everything. And yeah, it drives me crazy sometimes,” he admitted, a faint, wry smile tugging at his lips. “But that’s you. That’s the person I fell for. And I’m not going anywhere, no matter how many times you convince yourself I will.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Peter reached up, brushing it away with the pad of his thumb. His touch lingered, his hand cradling your face as his expression softened even more. “I like you, okay? Not some version of you. Not some perfect fantasy. You.”

You leaned into his touch, your tears flowing freely now. “I don’t deserve you,” you whispered.

Peter’s brow furrowed, and his thumb pressed lightly against your cheek in a way that felt almost scolding. “You deserve more than me, honestly. But you’re stuck with me, so get used to it.”

His words made you laugh, a broken, watery sound that felt like the first crack of sunlight after a storm. Peter’s lips quirked up into a small smile, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours.

“We good now?” he murmured, his voice softer than before.

You nodded, your breath hitching as you tried to steady yourself. “Yeah. We’re good.”

“Good,” he said, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to your forehead. “Now, stop doubting yourself. You’re mine, and that’s not changing anytime soon. Got it?”

“Got it,” you replied, your voice steadier now, though your cheeks flushed at the possessiveness in his tone.

Peter’s smile widened, and he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Good. Now, come on. Let’s go eat something before you spiral again, yeah?”

You let out a soft laugh, nodding as you stood up with him, feeling a little lighter. And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe him.