#i think if my life fell out from under me i could probably scrape it back even if i wound up doing a lot of couch surfing in the meantime

[dont-offend-the-bees]

We need better fucking care infrastructure. I should not be trusted with anyone's care ever 💛

[gladiatorcunt]

summary: paul atreides x plus sized afab servant!reader

cw: power imbalance, somnophilia (dubcon in my mind as the reader wouldn’t push him away if they woke up but feel free to skip this if you could feel icked out by it), petplay (cheated again and didn’t make it explicit but it’s very petplay coded in a way), size difference (paul’s the skinny bf that would fall over if a gust of wind was strong enough), paul eats reader out, crack treated seriously vibes bc he’s so awkward 💀, ambiguous somno occasion (like how the reader fell asleep), implications of improper use of the voice but it’s weak for this paul era so reader could probably push against it, possible dune lore inaccuracies idk don’t think just vibe

wc: 1k +

block & move on if uncomfortable !!!

don’t repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

You’re having the same dream again. Paul Atreides, the duke’s son who you are tasked with looking after is the star.

He looms over you as you lie flat on your back, though in your dream you’re never in your servant’s quarters. No, the surrounding walls bear a more striking resemblance to Paul’s bedroom. You’re always groggy in the dream, which is a strange feeling to have when you usually are profoundly awake in your other dreams.

You’ve only been having this one since you arrived on Caladan from a smaller planet with no name that they took ownership of. Paul Atreides had seemed to seek you out like a moth to a flame, making a beeline for you and demanding in front of your mother that his father hire you. Even weirder was the fact that the ships belonging to the Atreides left immediately after you agreed to go with them, as if the trip had only one purpose.

“Shh, mouse, it’s just me. Don’t wake up.” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against yours and pecking your lips.

You lie there in a daze, eyes wide and mouth agape as Paul reaches for the fastenings of your top. It’s an orange silk number he gifted you, all your clothes are. Your breaths come out in shallow pants, the disbelief that Paul Atreides would be disrobing you with the intent to bed you is overwhelming. He gives your plush curves loving squeezes as he reveals more and more skin.

Eventually you’re stark naked under him. You sluggishly try to cover yourself with your hands but Paul swiftly knocks them aside, pinning them to your sides so he can drink in the mouth watering image. You have no idea how many dreams he has had of you, ones concerning moments like these and ones about the life you’ll experience together in between. A gaggle of tiny feet playing tag around his throne, domestic mornings of blissful silence waltzing in the dining room.

“I…. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you, i swear it.” Your heart skips a beat, despite knowing very well that this is all some passing fancy. Dreams never have to see the light of day, so you can luxuriate in your delusions.

Paul leans down to shakily mouth at your collarbone, scraping his teeth against the skin and playing with your love handles. You whimper as he litters your rough skin with love bites, you open your mouth to apologize that it’s not as smooth as a noble consort’s would be, but something in the way he shoves his tongue in your mouth to silence you tells you he somehow already knows.

You poke and pull at his dark shirt, the fine black material feeling like heaven but you’d rather it cover your garments next to the bed.

Paul chuckles, nipping at your lips and pulling back to shirk his clothing off. He throws it across the room and goes back to kissing his way down your thick body. Once he reaches your stomach, he takes extra special care to dote on the rolls of skin, softly kissing and pressing his forehead against them.

“You would be a beautiful bride, you know…”

“Um… thank you, sir.” You squirm, all the attention on someone like you from someone like your employer’s son becoming too real. The Paul Atreides would sooner be lost to the sands of Arrakis than utter those words to you in the waking world, but perhaps your long harbored infatuation has leaked into your subconscious.

He smiles, as if charmed by your shyness. “You’re welcome, mouse.”

His favorite nickname for you, given to you due to your adorable scurrying around to avoid others and shy high pitched squeaks that you use instead of words. (Also because he saw you crouch in a corner and nibble on a piece of bread that you had managed to snag from the table.)

He sits back on his heels to grab your thighs, the skin bulging in between his fingers. He draws you into a slow and sensual kiss as he pushes them apart and sinks into the empty space. You squeak in shock when you feel something stiff press against your wet pussy, but Paul only shushes you in your head and you relax again.

“Mmm~” He hums, flicking his tongue against the seam of your lips and lifting himself to hover over you once more.

He winks before tightening his grip on your thighs and stretching them wide enough for him to slink down and have access to the small hole at their apex.

You jolt when he presses a soft kiss to the top of your mound. You squeak and try to close your thighs around his head but he doesn’t let you, keeping your thighs pinned to the bed and licking a flat stripe up your pussy.

“So sweet, mouse….” Paul grins and repeats the motion a few times. “I could just spread you out over the table whenever I need to eat.”

You moan at the attention, desperately wishing that you could grind against Paul’s mouth but it feels like something more than his grip is holding you back, something about the touch seeming too vivid. You shake the thought away and sink your fingers into his hair, brushing any strays away from his face as he moves to suck on your clit.

He hollows out his cheeks a bit to get better suction on your fat clit. Paul nuzzles his face as deep into you as he can possibly get, the chubby lips of your pussy sandwiching his nose. You wrench your eyes shut as your pleasure builds and builds, but a single thin finger eases into your hole right as you’re about to tumble over the edge. The intrusion isn’t painful so much as it is entirely foreign to you, the second finger goes in much easier.

The combination of eating you out and finger fucking you makes the knot in you stomach blessedly come undone. Paul swallows it all down like there’s no better substance in the grand scheme of the universe.

You hope to have this dream again tomorrow, even at the cost of being able to look Paul Atreides in the eyes.

[anothertimdrakestan]

Jealous Jason Todd Headcanon

~loooong requested hope you enjoy some brotherly competition~

- jason had no idea he wanted you until dick called "dibs" the first night he met jason's mysterious "friend" and newest bat-recruit

- at first, jason didn't care. like at all. but that never stopped him from being an asshole

- "my brother y/n really? what's there to like? i didn't see you as a musical theatre and dad-joke enjoyer" he'd scoff anytime dick tried to make a move

- that didn't stop richard fucking grayson.

- "hey! y/n! fancy seeing you here!" .. "it's the batcave dick i work here" .. "oh, well are you working all night? maybe we can grab some big belly burger after?" .. "we have patrol together you dork"

- honestly, it was endearing being adored, worshipped even. from handwritten poems, to a little mini batarang necklace, and all the weapons your heart could desire

- and for all his dork-tendencies, dick knew a thing or too about hand placement...

- "put me down richard" .. "you literally fell into my arms" .. "i would've landed on my feet" .. "sure princess, but aren't my arms a little better?" he'd tease, sweeping you bridal style out the back door of the gala you two had just rescued

- it was somewhere in between the gift giving, rooftop dates, and stolen glances that jason realized he might want -slightly, just a tiny bit- more.

- okay; he wanted you all to himself.

- but he's always been shit at explaining it

- where dick was obvious and flirtatious, jason started subtle: always inching closer to you, keeping a longing gaze set on your every move-even if it meant tripping himself up in battles- you noticed he would sooner get shot than let you catch a scrape

- and just like dick's coddling, it got annoying

- "jace i've been on the team for months, i think i can watch out for myself" .. "i know, i protect the people i care about" his response was almost a whisper, and before you could pry further, he disappeared, replaced with a familiar cheesy grin "hi y/n! wanna catch a movie tonight?" .. "uh, one sec dick! i need to check on jace"

- but jason was never anywhere to be found. every time he let you in, he disappeared just as quick.

- when you started toying with new weaponry jason was there, you still got butterflies remembering the way he pressed himself against you while fixing your form, his calloused fingertips lighting fires as he subtly adjusted your grip on your gun

- "jay is this right?" .. "mhm your grip is perfect, but the recoil will get you, slide your leg backwards to brace for the impact of firing" .. the minute his hand touched your thigh a shiver ran across your body, against your shaking will .. "oh, sorry i didn't mean to-" .. you cut him off "no it's good, you're good" but before you could turn around to unpack the cloud of tension in the room, jason cleared his throat and gruffly said "fire" ruining any chance of an emotional conversation. three perfect shots to the targets, and with a satisfying nod he was gone once again

- so when dick asked you out on a real date, to a restaurant whose menu alone gave you anxiety at the thought of ordering, you realized you had to give jason the ultimatum

- but for once in his (second) life, jason was way ahead of you.

- "you said yes to dick?" jason was sitting at your desk when you entered your own room, overly dramatic but it was jason todd after all.

- "do i have a reason to say no?"

- "you hate fancy restaurants. you need like a week to plan what you'll order otherwise you'll just be stressed the whole time"

- you rolled your eyes, but jason wasn't finished: "and you hate movies, sitting in one place watching a film you probably haven't heard of, pretending to enjoy the nuance"

- he wasn't wrong. "whatever jace, that doesn't-" .. "i can tell you what's gonna happen. he'll order a wine too sweet for your taste, and talk to the waiter enough to make you want to crawl under the table. then after a perfectly lovely dinner he'll take you to a rooftop to 'show you the sights' and you'll have your first kiss. but you hate the city skyline, it reminds you you're far from home. you like the sound of the ocean and the rusting of the forest. you like something real."

- your heart was in your throat. but you needed something more: "say it jason. don't tell me the future with dick. fucking say it."

- jason stood up, closing the distance between you, eyes now desperate and wild: "say what? that i've loved you since the minute i lost you? that i feel like ive known you forever? that i don't need to learn to love you like he does, i was built for it? that i feel like i was made for you? how do i put it in a few useless words"

- "you just did jay." you whispered, letting him lock his lips in yours with a smile.

- "please go break richard's fucking heart and come home to me." he grumbled, to which you agreed, letting dick down softly and promising to set him up with one of your friends in return for his kindness- a deal which he wouldn't let you forget

- years later, it was more of a household joke, dick claiming he was the catalyst to your and jason's lovestory. to which jason wholly despised, but you never minded giving dick a little credit

[galaxycunt]

I Can’t Keep Crying pt 6

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5

Andddd it’s done! I might play around with this story some more but thank you all who have left comments and likes and just read it in silence ily ur so awesome send in the clowns

When you were probably way too young, and before she died, your mother wanted you to marry someone who could make you comfortable. She married for love, and all that got her was a husband away at sea for months at a time only to be killed by pirates. The boy down the street was studying to be a doctor, you felt her funeral needed to proceed a wedding. You would feel guilty otherwise.

When that got too hard, you set sail with a Marine, an officer even. You convinced him to let you on his ship, who left you to pirates when you were raided. You flirted with death more than lovers after that one, hopping around crews, never feeling comfortable.

When you met Buggy, it was an inn like the one you were in now, you heard about him though he didn’t impress you much. The get up was ridiculous, the nose too off putting to take seriously. He had some goons with him, taking up space at the bar. He wasn’t flirting with you, but with another woman. A woman who left the door open after making her exit.

Slipping in his room was easy, stealing enough berries to find passage with another ship. You felt this town was getting old, an adventure waiting somewhere else for you. You should have known your heist was too easy, a buggy ball knocking you out soon after.

”No one steals from Buggy The Clown.”

That was so long ago, being with him was the longest time you served under anyone. Not even your marriages lasted this long. You weren’t sure how to feel about it now. Buggy could probably charm your mother, she would pray for any child to take your features instead.

You were in love with the pirate captain currently beside you, after being inside you. God, you really loved him. Buggy gazed into your eyes like he could find the meaning of life in them. You could tell he hardly believed you were there, let alone that you loved him.

”Remember when we met?”

He smiled, “how could I forget? Not every day someone robs me.”

”Why did you let me live? Or join?”

He blushed, “I fall in love easily, what can I say? I don’t do slow and subtle.”

”You really don’t.”

You remembered the wound he gave you before you threw his money back at him. You knew when to fight and when to scrape by to live another day. Pirates liked a girl who was desperate enough to keep breathing.

“Security detail, you’re such a funny bullshitter.”

”Geez, sorry I didn’t want my future boyfriend chopping my head off.”

”Wait, really?”

You grin sheepishly, “well, no I wasn’t thinking that at the time.”

”Oh, when did you?”

”Like a couple of weeks before we fucked. At least what I was hoping for, you big flirt.”

He traced circles in your skin, finger roaming around your waist and hip. You hoped you didn’t upset him, that crush was bound to happen anyway. Falling for Buggy was inevitable.

“I mean, I always thought you were cute. You’re my boss, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. Authority is hot and all that shit.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, you think back to the other men in you life, did they kiss you like this?

No, they didn’t. Not like this, Buggy was all in. No holding back.

“Remember when you saved me during the storm?”

You didn’t know about the devil fruit, not until a week or so into sailing with him. Buggy was always an excellent sailor, managing the sails with grace amongst the chaos. Showing the decades of experience, as easy as breathing. Until a wave hit him, causing him to tumble off the rope ladder he was on.

You were the first one to grab him, his body going limp. You stayed with him as you dragged him off to his cabin, unsure of what else to do. Drying him off, only for him to spring back into action like nothing happened. A wink and a blown kiss as he ran off to help his crew.

“That’s when I fell for you,” he whispered.

“Really? That soon?”

He shrugged, “when you know, you know.”

You felt like an asshole, the way you been unknowingly playing with his feelings. You hoped he didn’t hold it against you, and yet you wanted to just know it all. You were probably a little selfish that way.

”Did you mean it? That you’d say yes?” his voice faltered, filled with anxiety.

Your hands felt clammy, “yeah. You gotta do it right though, surprise me.”

He smiled, “I’m gonna dazzle your pants off.”

You smacked him playfully, “oh shut up.”

”You’re marrying this, so you can’t be that mad at me!”

”I ain’t marrying you yet.”

”But you will.”

”I will.”

His face fell into an easy smile, enveloping you in his arms. You had to let it happen, he wasn’t going to hurt you. You had to believe that.

You kissed his eyes, cheeks, lips, neck. Over and over, your body tingling with desire. Your mind turned over moments in your past; like when Buggy first taught you to throw knives, when he turned red as a tomato the first time you measured his body, the little pranks he pulled on you using his powers. You loved him in so many different ways.

”It was when you gave that kid some money.”

”What?”

”You did it once, we were in some village, it took me by surprise. No offense, you’re pretty greedy.”

He laughed, “I’m not that bad am I?”

“No, but it was just interesting. Different.”

He hummed in thought, and you wondered if you said the wrong thing. He kissed your knuckles, easing your worried face.

“I been married before. Two times.”

”That’s okay.”

You nodded, “let’s wait. Until the Grand Line. Find a nice quiet island.”

”Let me worry about all that, okay?”

”Yeah.”

Buggy looked at you with a fire in his eyes, scheming and plotting. It excited you, you were really doing this. Third times the charm right? And why the hell not? You did the legit route, a doctor, an officer, and a pirate. A captain even.

It was the stuff of trashy romance novels, a swashbuckling scoundrel who only had a soft side for you. That was Buggy alright, flashy and larger than life. You had one more question, deciding in your head which possible answer you’d like better.

”Where’d you get the ring?”

He laughed, “some bozo took it off his wife and threw it at me, remember that fancy schmancy ship with the gold stairs?”

That was a good haul, you still had the ruby encrusted ashtray. You did like this answer, after all. Why put on airs?

“It really does suit my style, she had taste. Well, for the most part.”

You let the wedding talk go, going back to talking about nothing. Things the ship needs, clothes you wanted to buy. You felt silly, when you thought about the lead up to this moment. You both could’ve been here a long time ago, but maybe that was a good thing.

You weathered the storm, coming out the other side stronger than ever. Buggy was your lifeline, your safe harbor. He was truly, the man of your dreams.

[imaginethezeldaverse]

Thinking about Yunobo and forced proximity…

Oh...you and me both, darling. If you could only hear the noise I made.

ANYWAY, here you go! I'm gonna borrow from my initial idea on this

It was just meant to be a simple retrieve. At your request, Yunobo had finally let you into one of the nearby newer digging site of YunoboCo - where large geode clusters were discovered. He was aware how much you enjoyed geodes (though to the Gorons it made for a pretty tasty morsel more than anything else), so giving you an opportunity to chip away at a few walls to take some home was the least he could do for his friend! He personally stood watch as you carefully tapped away here and there, small clusters breaking loose for you to stow away in the small satchel you brought with you. "Sheesh, I don't know how you do this all day," you huffed, wiping some sweat that beaded at your forehead, "All I've done is use this little mallet and I'm tired." Yunobo laughed softly at your plight, swiping at his cheek with his finger, "I guess it's a little different when you're a Goron like me, huh?" Your gaze back to him read a playful 'No Kidding' before you turned back to the wall. In your concentration you didn't hear the sound of rubble start to shake above you. Some sediment fell nearby, catching the attention of the Goron. As he walked closer, a loud crunch sounded just above you both. You tried to look up to inspect the noise, but were instantly shoved into the cave wall. The ceiling of the cavern came crumbling without warning, shaking the earth beneath your feet and all around you. When you finally found yourself brave enough to open up your eyes, you were face first with the jagged surface of the amethyst you had been picking at. You tried to push off from the wall, but a solid form held you firmly in place. "Ngh...I'm sorry I pushed you..." came a strained voice. You were barely able to turn, but with some careful wiggling you peered over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Yunobo covering you. Just beyond him were large rocks, pressed heavily against him - thus the reason, you imagined, as to why you were crowded between him and the wall. His hands gripped firmly into the wall at either side of your head, arms planted and tense in order to keep the wreckage from reaching you in any capacity - the weight of debris and sharpened geode scraping at the rock of his back. He saved your life, you realized, the severity of your situation dawning on you. "Yuno," you whispered, trying to swallow your panic, "Th-Thank you, my god, I...are you okay?"

He exhaled harshly, making sure to hold steadfast to the rock in front of you both, "I-I'm fine...you're not hurt, are you?" His breath tickled your neck, a small shudder zipping down your spine. Yunobo was close - far closer than you'd ever expected to be near him today, and it was trickling deeper hues into your cheeks. You were grateful he couldn't see your face right now. "Sir! You in there?! Are you alright?! Jeez, this is a mess!" shouted a muffled voice. "I'm alive, Drak, get the guys so we can pull back this rubble, I got a Hylian under here with me!" You heard a few short curses before the far off voice yelled, "On it! Hey! Fellas! We got an emergency!" and his voice would trail out of your earshot. Yunobo leaned forward slowly, his lips finding your ear, "Hey...you doing okay? It might be a minute before we can move." Truthfully speaking you were struggling. Not because you were scared, nor because you were uncomfortable - in fact, you've probably never felt safer knowing you had Yunobo to keep you that way. No, it was the fact that you were pressed into the wall, your body caged so...intimately against the Goron champion. The presence of his biceps at your head, the knowledge that at current all you could was be pinned by him; your head was beginning to spin. Even through the steel of his chest plate you could feel his warmth. You held in your shudder, "I'm f-f-fine, just...fine!" The squeak in your tone concerned Yunobo. His head tilted, inadvertently pressing closer to your shoulder and the side of your face to try to gauge your feelings. He pushed through his physical endeavor to lend you some gentle reassurance. A low whisper, "I'll keep you safe, okay? I'm not gonna let these rocks hurt you." Your nails bit into your palms, the hints of gravel in his voice from his exertion was making your abdomen flutter. Your flushed cheeks were inevitable at this point, you couldn't stop your body from being hyperaware of your proximity. Closing your eyes, you desperately tried to keep your composure, "I know, Yuno," shifting your gaze over your shoulder once more, your eyes were low under the length of your lashes, "...Thank you." It was his turn to blush, as he took in the sight of you beneath him. Were you always this...pretty? The more he scrutinized you, the more he realized just how flush he was against your frame. His chest was fully on your back, arms closed around you, his face slotted so closely to your own. If anyone saw the two of you like this under any other circumstance, they would think... Th-They would think...!

"Heave!" came a loud shout. The gritty noises of bedrock being shifted sounded behind you, several voices bellowing in cloaked panic. One by one the weight lifted from Yunobo's back, his reactionary sigh of relief rolling down your back before he finally moved off of you on his own. You inhaled a breath you were unaware you were holding, your nerves alight from the countless minutes you spent sharing a tight space with the mining president. Yunobo took your hand gently, taking careful steps to pull you from the refuse. "Needless to say, we're shutting this one down for a while, fellas" said Yunobo, his voice holding a tinge of exasperation; when he looked at you, his eyebrows turned up in worry - his expression was nothing short of apologetic, "I can't have what happened today happen again."

"SIR!" the hoard of Gorons echoed before heading off to grab their equipment. You looked on at Yunobo, whose hand never left yours. When he finally met your eyes, his brow was furrowed in a mix of anger and upset, "I..." he began, frown deepening. A hand laid atop his own, stopping his train of thought. Your eyes held such softness, "Don't...I'm safe, Yuno. We're safe. That's all that matters." So many things he wanted to say right now. The Goron champion internally kicked himself for putting you in harm's way...but clearly you would hear none of it. In your smile was kindness, sympathy. You knew he meant you no harm. He had nothing to apologize for, as you would tell him. Sometimes he swore he didn't deserve a person like you. With a rough sigh, Yunobo took his hand from yours to hover it behind your back, a simple gesture to show you out. "C'mon...I'll walk ya home." Come nightfall, your mind raced endlessly. The adrenaline of the accident had long passed from your nerves - now all that was left was the physical memory. He was strong, effortlessly so in his display of holding an entire caves worth of rock from even laying a pebble on you. Your body committed the warmth of his chest to recollection; the sound of his voice, the feel of his mouth so close to some of the more sensitive areas on your neck and shoulders, it was all so visceral. It made your thoughts seep into more sensual corners, a desperate craving for this intimate connection under different circumstances. Little did you know, at his place in HQ, a certain Goron was imagining the welcoming warmth of your touch as well.

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr Evershed x Student!reader - always been my kid

Saw your prompt list. Please do 48 with Mr. Evershed x Student reader gender Neutral. No rush though. Have fun with it. - Anon💜

48: “Adopt me.” “What?” “I want you to adopt me.”

Looking at your guardian, you beamed brightly as you ran through the trees not that far ahead of him.

“You’ll get lost!” Mr Evershed shouted.

“No I won’t!”

He rolled his eyes and carried on following you, ducking under some branches so he wasn’t being hit by them.

You were laughing and cheering as you jumped up to smack some of the leaves, knocking a few to the ground.

“Come on! We’ll be late if you don’t hurry up!” He called after you.

Most mornings you wanted to go for a walk before school, to burn some energy before you had to sit in classrooms all day.

And since he was awake early most of the time Mr Evershed was more than happy to walk with you.

You stopped and looked at your phone, checking the time and you rolled your eyes at him.

“We still have over an hour! It’s only like 15 minutes drive away.”

You stopped to let him catch up and you grinned up at him.

“Yes, and the more you run the longer it’ll take us to get back.”

“Oh well.” You shrugged.

“Where are we going anyways?”

You gave a grin but didn’t answer his question as you carried on running up ahead, and you found a fallen tree.

You climbed up, scraping your hands a little bit but you didn’t care.

You stood up a little unbalanced and Mr Evershed stopped next to you, and you looked down at him.

You held out your hand to him and he took it, walking along the side of the fallen tree as he helped you keep your balance.

He smiled to himself as he looked at the large grin on your face.

When you somehow fell into his care nearly two years ago he wasn’t expecting you to grow so fond of him, he was expecting you to leave as soon as you could.

You were scared at first.

Terrified.

He didn’t know what you had been through, but the moment social services asked him to take you in at your previous school he didn’t think twice about saying yes.

You needed a safe place. A safe home. And he wanted you to have that, to experience life the way it was supposed to be. Without constant fear.

And every moment had been a a learning curve for the both of you.

When you reached the end, you jumped let go of his hand and jumped down the other side, and he walked around.

You were brushing some dirt from your hands and he laughed softly.

“Here.”

He took your hands and brushed the dirt away for you, and you bounced on the balls of your feet.

You grabbed his hand and tugged it a little bit and you both started to walk again.

“Nearly there!”

You walked past the last of the trees and you gestured to rolling field of green grass.

“All of this for s field?” Mr Evershed asked.

“Yup!”

You let go of his hand and took your blazer off and handed it to him as you ran into the grass, chasing a few birds out.

Mr Evershed checked the time and smiled to himself as he carried on watching you.

You were so full of energy.

Energy you probably had never been able to let out again.

And he wanted nothing more than to just see you smiling and laughing.

And that’s what you were doing, smiling and laughing to yourself as you ran through the grass, letting the green touch your fingers as you spun around and jumped over things.

When you were finally out of breath you stopped running and made your way back over to him.

“Are you finished?”

You nodded your head and he held your blazer over his arm as you both started to walk back towards the car in silence, just admiring the early morning light.

Getting in the car, you downed some of your drink and happily sat there as he drove to the school and you both walked in just before the first bell.

“You two are cutting it close each morning.” Mrs Carter laughed.

“It’s a challenge.” You beamed.

Taking your blazer from Mr Evershed, you pulled it on and ran away down the halls.

“They have an endless supply of energy, honestly Mandy you should see them. They can run for days if someone let them.”

“Hey, as long as they’re not running around the school it’s fine.” She smiled.

Both of them went about their day.

It was lunch and you were sitting at a table outside talking to a few of your classmates.

“Isn’t it weird you live with your headteacher?” Chloe asked.

“No. Not really. It’s actually kinda nice you know? Like he teaches me how to do things like cook and my own washing and he takes me places if I wanna go to them. It’s nice and it’s fun.”

“He’s basically like your dad at this point.” Sam laughed.

You looked over at the headteacher talking to Mrs Carter.

“I never really thought about it that way.” You said.

“Seriously? Two years and after everything you never realised he was basically your dad now?” Cory said.

You shook your head and frowned a little as you carried on looking at him.

You hadn’t thought about it like that.

You weren’t used to the kind of care and love he showed for you, you were so used to picking yourself up if you fell, fighting for yourself, doing anything to survive.

Now you didn’t have to do that.

You had someone looking out for you, someone to pick you up when you fell down, clean your hands and knees when you scraped them doing something you shouldn’t do.

Getting up, you grabbed your bag and swung it over your shoulder.

“Where are you going?!” Sam asked.

“To ask a question!”

The three shared a look and wondered over with you.

Walking over to the two teachers you stopped just in front of them.

“Yes (Y/N)?” Mr Evershed asked.

You looked between him and Mrs Carter before turning your attention fully to him.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course. Come on.”

He led you into the school and to the office, and Mrs Carter, Sam, Chloe and Cory all stood with Loraine at the window watching.

Curious.

“Is everything okay?”

You looked at him and nodded your head.

“Then what do you want to talk about?”

He sat down on the edge of the desk and you set your back down, then looked up to him again.

“Adopt me.”

Mr Evershed blinked, taking a moment to process what you had just said.

“What?”

“I want you to adopt me.”

He still seemed confused and you sighed, shaking your head a little as you smiled at him.

“I lived with you for two years, before that I was scared and unsure of everyone. I’ve never known the love of a parent, and you showed me that. You pick me up when I fall, and clean my scrapes when I’ve done something stupid, you’re there for me on hard days, and no matter where I go you’re always a few steps behind me, making sure I’m okay. I want you to adopt me. I want to be your kid.”

He stood up and walked over, and pulled you into a crushing hug and you wrapped your arms around him.

“You’re always going to be my kid (Y/N). If you fall over I’m always going to pick you up, I’m always going to fix your injuries and be right behind you whenever you need me. I’ve watched you grow, learn so much and open up so much more.”

He pulled away and placed a hand on your head.

“I watched you smile your first real smile, laugh your first real laugh. I’ve wiped away your tears and chased away your bad dreams. Of course you’re my kid. You’re my (Y/N).”

“So you’ll adopt me?”

He smiled, ruffling your hair a little and pulled you back in for another hug.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask.” He whispered.

You pulled away and took a few steps back.

“Really?!”

He laughed at the excitement on your face.

“Yeah. I wanted you to be ready.”

You let out a cheer and ran at him, jumping on him as you hugged him and he laughed, hugging you back.

You guys heard cheering and clapping and you let go of him as you turned to the window and beamed at them all.

He placed a hand on your head and you looked up at him with a smile.

“Want to get the paperwork now?” He asked.

“Yes!”

Grabbed your bag, you grabbed his car keys and ran out of the office while he got his own bag and asked Mrs Carter to cover for him which she was more than happy to.

He was going to adopt you and you were going go never have to worry about a single thing again

[agressive-hip-thrusting]

The Citrus Job - Chapter One

When life gives you lemons, grab an EpiPen.

Inspired by Whumptober and my discussions with @whump-star about the anaphylaxis prompt, I've accidentally stumbled upon a ridiculous plotline for a fic, In which Sheppard and Ronon form a bet to see who can make Rodney eat citrus first. Please enjoy the first chapter of what will undoubtedly be a ridiculous series of events.

word count: 2938

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

Chapter One 

“So, you mean to tell me, that you haven’t eaten anything citrus since you first found out you were allergic?”

No one could really remember where this conversation had even started. Something along the lines of things you couldn’t live without. 

“Not even once? Aren’t you curious? Don’t you miss, like, oranges?” John continued on. 

“You know, funnily enough, I don’t miss the feeling of my throat closing in on itself.” Rodney replied, waving his fork in the air between them. 

“I don’t think I could do it.” John bit into his orange like an apple (heinous), the juices spraying across the table and into Rodney’s dinner. 

“Oh that’s great. Just fantastic. You’ve ruined it” He pushed what remained of his dinner across the table and sulked back into his chair. Ronon eyed the situation for a moment, before reaching across and snatching it up, scraping the leftovers onto his plate. Rodney watched on in disdain. 

“Well see, this is what I mean. There is no way you haven’t had citrus. You must have eaten it by accident at some point.” 

“Nope. Not once. I’m like a sniffer dog. I could smell it a mile off.” 

John smirked in Rodney’s direction, something sparking in his eyes. A similar light seemed to dance in Ronon's as well. Teyla’s eyes swivelled back and forth between the two of them, apprehension at the stupidity brewing in the air. 

“Whatever it is that you two are planning, I want absolutely no part in it.”

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

Sheppard fell to the floor as Ronon swept his legs from under him. Not for the first time that evening, his head bounced off the ground, and he vaguely wondered how many brain cells he lost every time they sparred. He got up slowly, rubbing the sore spot on his head, and limped over to the benches at the edge of the room. As he sipped on his water, his mind wandered back to the conversation of the previous night, and Rodney’s wild claims. 

“Do you really think Rodney can ‘sniff out’ citrus?” He asked, fingers curling into air quotes. 

“Seriously?” Ronon laughed, “There is absolutely no way that Rodney can sniff out citrus. I bet you could easily sneak citrus into his food without him knowing.” 

“Yeah probably.” Ronon and John exchanged a look, a new idea for a bet forming in the space between them. “But it would be totally unethical right?”

“Right right. Totally unethical. Not to mention dangerous.” The silence hung a moment longer. 

“Yes. Dangerous … But I mean, not lethal. There’s … epipens and stuff. He wouldn’t die.” 

They held each other's stare for a moment longer, each weighing up their options for how best to both beat each other whilst simultaneously not getting arrested for murder by lemon. 

“Ok, how about this,” John leapt up from his seat, instantly regretting the pain that now shot down his leg, “We both try to sneak some form of citrus into his food, BUT, to ensure maximum safety we both, just, start carrying around epipens.” He swivelled around, clasping his hands together in front of him, very pleased with his well crafted health and safety guidelines.

“Yes. And never leave him alone with contaminated food.” 

“And absolutely no attempts whilst on mission.” 

“Agreed.” Both men shook hands, the terms of the bet firmly planted in their minds. 

“So all we have to do is get our hands on some EpiPens and we're good to go.” Ronon said, stepping away to pick up his kit from the bench. 

“Leave that one to me.  I think I know exactly where we can find some.” John wandered over to grab his own things, doing his best to seem mysterious. 

“You’re going to break into McKay’s room aren’t you.” 

John paused in picking his bag up from the ground, his air of mystery slowly seeping away. “Maybe.” 

Ronon chuckled to himself as they left the gym. They wandered the halls, both seaking a shower and John some epsom salts to soak away his wounds. 

“So, what do we get for winning?” Ronon asked, glancing across to Sheppard. 

“Well, if I win, you have to go golfing with me.” 

Ronon nodded, pondering just what he would make John do should he win. 

“If I win, we spar. Properly this time, with real swords.” 

As Ronon finished his sentence, he peeled away from John, heading in the direction of his room, leaving a very nervous looking John in his wake. He deeply hoped he would win this bet. He could already hear the lecture from Beckett when he steps into Sick Bay with a sword in his chest. Not to mention the paperwork. 

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

The act of sneaking into Rodney’s room was not the tricky part. Actually finding the secret stash of lifesaving drugs however left John stumped. He had pulled out seemingly every drawer, and still he had not found the EpiPens. As he rifled through yet another drawer, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and the annoying whine of Rodney’s voice drifting down the corridor. He scanned the room quickly, trying to find the best place to hide. In his panic, he threw himself onto the floor by the bed, landing hard on his elbow as he fell. He pulled his elbow into his body, cradling it in his arm, biting back the cry that threatened to spill out. 

He heard the door slide open and the slow steps of Rodney pacing around his room. He pulled his legs into his chest, hiding his feet behind the bed. A soft thump sounded to his side. As he peeked over he saw Rodey’s shirt bunched on the floor where he threw it. He rolled his eyes back into his head, praying to whoever may listen that this was the only piece of clothing that would be leaving his body. Another thump sounded, centimetres from his head, a shoe joining the rumpled shirt. Before he could even begin to move, the second landed square on his forehead. 

He clutched his forehead, letting out a muffled whelp. Realising his mistake as the pacing stopped, he swiftly pulled himself under the bed. He looked to his side, the sight of Rodney’s socked feet appearing next to his head. He held his breath, hoping Rodey’s tactical stupidity would kick in. Luckily for him, Rodney appeared unaware of his presence. Unluckily for him, this meant that Rodney’s trousers now joined the rest of his clothes in the pile on the floor. Then his socks. Then his underwear.

He sincerely hoped that Rodney did not sleep naked. He could not stand another minute under this bed, let alone the countless hours it would take for his mind to quiet into sleep. He watched as Rodney’s feet moved away from the bed, and he heard the sound of the bathroom door open. He let out a soft sigh, his head falling back in relief. As his head fell to the side, he noticed a small box hidden under the bed. Sincerely hoping he wasn’t putting his hand into a porn stash, he reached inside, his hand closing around a long, thin, hard, cylindrical … dear god he hoped this was an EpiPen. 

He pulled it out. 

He breathed a sigh of relief. Plastic. Definitely plastic. Also definitely an EpiPen. He grabbed another, wriggling them into his pockets in the limited space the underside of the bed provided. With his bounty retrieved, he grasped the edge of the bed, poking his head out to check the coast was clear. He surveyed the room, and as he swivelled his head around, he was greeted with a clear view of Rodney’s arse. 

He had never moved so quickly, pulling himself back under the bed, whacking perfectly into the bruise now forming on his forehead. He only wished he had hit it harder so that he could purge the image now burned into his mind. 

What kind of heathen showers with the door OPEN. 

Not only was he now scarred for life, he now realised he was completely cut off from escape. He racked his brain, looking for any way he could leave this hellhole. He considered crawling for the door, but the chances of seeing any more than he needed to meant that was not an option. He briefly considered a smoke grenade, before concluding that was more conspicuous than simply standing up. And the thought of Rodney running out in the nude to investigate made him feel like throwing up in his mouth. Finally, he realised his only option. A cry for help.

He tapped the comms in his ear, and contacted the only person he could. 

“Ronon, I need your help.” He whispered. 

“Why are you whispering?” The sound of Ronon’s voice crackling in his ear. 

“I am stuck under Rodney’s bed. I need you to distract him so that I can get out of here.” 

He could hear the sound of Ronon’s laughter echoing through the comms. 

“Why can’t you just wait until he leaves?” Ronon asked once he had composed himself. 

“NO! Look, I need to get out. I can’t stay here anymore. He’s … He’s in the shower.” 

The laughter that followed was so loud John almost pulled the comms from his ear to stop his eardrum from bursting. 

“Are you going to help me or not?” He growled, trying to be heard over the noise of his laughter. 

“I’m on my way” The following laughter made John yank the comms from his ear and throw them to the ground. John hoped desperately that Ronon would arrive before he learnt if Rodney really did have a porno stashed somewhere else in his pit. 

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

As Teyla wandered back to her bedroom, she thought back to seeing John sneaking about in the corridors of the crew quarters. As she wondered if this would become a problem she would undoubtedly have to solve, she was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of thundering footsteps and echoing chuckles. In fear of being trampled, she flattened herself against the wall, and watched Ronon speed past her, heading in the direction of Rodney’s room. 

Shaking her head, she decided it was better she stay out of it. No doubt they would sort it out amongst themselves. Or they would end up killing each other. Either way, sleep seemed much more appealing. 

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

From under the bed, John could hear the sound of Ronon’s pounding knock on the door. And not a moment too soon, as just moments before he heard the sound of Rodney leaving the shower, and the tail end of a conversation he was having with some imaginary shower friend he hoped wasn’t Sam Carter. The door slid open, and from his vantage point on the floor, he could see the approaching footsteps of his saving grace. 

“What is it? What do you want?” 

He hoped that Ronon had come up with a convincing enough lie to get Rodney out of the room. He watched on as Ronon got closer and closer to the bed. As he wondered why Ronon would get further into the room, when he needed Rodney out of it, he was cut off in his thoughts by a crushing weight landing on his chest as Ronon launched himself onto the bed. 

He let out a wheeze. He pondered slightly if this is what anaphylaxis felt like. Even so, after all the trouble this had caused him, there was no way he was backing out now. He just needed to get Ronon’s attention, because dying under McKay’s bed seemed the worst way to go out. 

He lifted up an arm to try and talk to him over the comms, before realising that he had thrown it to the ground in anger. Frantically, he scrambled to grab his earpiece from the floor, but the more he felt, the less he could find. As his oxygen reached critical levels, his only option now seemed direct contact. He reached out, grabbing the hem of Ronon’s trouser leg, before tugging violently, and hoped he would get the message. 

Just as John could feel the world falling away from, the sweet release of Ronon standing up allowed him to take a deep shuddering breath. As his vision cleared, he could hear the sound of retreating footsteps of both Ronon and McKay leaving his room. Ever so slowly, he pulled himself out from under his prison, careful of the numerous injuries he had somehow sustained in this heist. Having secured both the epipens and his discarded radio, he stumbled from the room. 

As he moved to walk down the corridor back to his room, the leg Ronon had earlier swept from under him gave way, and he stumbled across the hall, slamming into the wall. As every area of his body began to throb, he sank to the floor as gracefully as he could, groaning as he went. 

And scene

As she moved about her room, she could faintly hear snippets of conversation between Ronon and Rodney as they headed in the direction of what she could only assume was Rodney’s lab. The sound of Rodney’s complaints of sensitive equipment and Ronon keeping his hands to himself drifting in through the door. The quiet returned as she busied herself once again, getting ready for a well deserved rest, before she was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of Sheppard groaning in pain. 

Her curiosity getting the better of her, she wandered out of her room, looking around to see the shape of John Sheppard slumped against the wall of the corridor. 

“Are you alright Colonel Sheppard?” She asked, unable to hide the small smirk that came to her face at seeing his predicament. He tilted his head towards her, the action alone seeming to cause him much pain. 

“Just fine, Teyla.” He rasped out. 

“May I inquire as to what happened?” 

“Ronon” 

She rolled her eyes. As much as she wanted to stay out of it, unless he was willing to crawl the infirmary, there was no way he would be able to reach it on his own. And knowing his unwillingness to bother a medical team, she seemed his best option. She moved over to him, offering her hand to help him stand. 

“No no, I’m fine. I just need a minute.” 

“Please sir, I must insist. We need to get you to the infirmary. You’re no use to us if you’re injured.” She reached out again, hooking her arm under his and raising him to stand. 

“Fine, just. Go slow.” 

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

As Teyla escorted a limping Sheppard into the infirmary, Becket lept up from where she was sitting, confused by what she saw. As far as he was aware Sheppard’s team had not been off-world in a few days, and what he saw before him seemed a step up from his usual sparring injuries. 

“What happened? Are you ok?” He led them over to the closest bed, motioning for Sheppard to sit down. He immediately noticed Sheppard looked almost out of breath from walking the few metres from the door to the bed. His pale and sweaty complexion highlighted the bruises he could see forming on his forehead and poking out from under his shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would think he’s been in a car accident. 

Still having not received an answer, he pressed him further on what caused his injuries, as he began to examine his chest. He pulled up his shirt to look at the bruising, and noted the unusual pattern to his bruises. Parallel stripes now littered his chest and he wracked his brain as to what could have caused it. 

“How exactly did you get these bruises? They’re very … symmetrical.” He placed a pulse oximeter onto his finger, and noted his quickened heart rate and slightly lowered o2 saturation. 

“Bantos. With Ronon” The slight rasp to his voice and resultant wheeze further concerned him. He didn't have much experience with bantos, but he was pretty sure they weren't this wide. 

“I think we need to get you under the scanner.” He said, handing him a pair of scrubs. 

What the scanner revealed confirmed the extent of injuries he expected, and exposed other contusions he hadn’t even considered. 

“Three cracked ribs, a bone bruise on your tibia, a mild concussion and several other random bruises, many of which not even from today.” He released a heavy sigh as he looked over at him.

“I’m fine. Really. I think Ronon’s just got a touch of cabin fever having been cooped up here so long.” 

“I’m sure you feel fine Colonel, but I’m afraid I must insist you stay in the infirmary tonight so I can keep an eye on those ribs. What you need now is rest, and I doubt you would be doing so if I sent you back to your quarters.” Beckett helped Sheppard down from the scanner, getting him set up in one of the beds around the room. He slid an IV into his arm, administering a slightly larger than usual amount of analgesic, in the hopes it would stop Sheppard going walkabouts in the night. 

“Now please Colonel, try and get some rest.” 

As he lay in the bed, Sheppard couldn’t help but feel put out at the numerous injuries he had somehow managed to obtain in what seemed a simple bet. The only thing keeping him sane was the fact that he still held both EpiPens, meaning Ronon could not take advantage of him now being stuck in the infirmary for however long Becket saw fit. 

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

[wirewitchviolet]

Grifters Gonna Grift, “AI” Edition

Can I just start off here with a quick expectations vs. reality comparison we can chuckle at? Here’s a quote from a director I’ll be cool and not embarrass about where “AI” will be in a couple years:

And here’s a couple choice bits from when I was watching someone make a valiant effort at streaming the new “AI driven” Portopia remake Square-Enix is pushing:

My favorite though is this wonderful stretch of the streamer desperately repeating “ask about Hirata” and the increasingly amazing guesses popping in the chat log.

More serious talk under the fold, like I do...

So... the very first thing I, much like anyone else with both a conscience and a clue, need to say when getting into this is that the reason you see so much talk these days about “AI” and how amazing it is have absolutely nothing to do with any new developments in AI research, and absolutely everything to do with a whole bunch of techbros being stuck holding the bag after the pile of naked pyramid schemes that were the NFT grift well and truly fell completely apart, and they need a new grift to move on to, ideally one where they can use the giant server farms they all set up for crypto crap to still be usable for something. And of course the second thing I’m morally obligated to say is that “AI,” as these con artists talk about it, flat out does not exist. We’re not “almost there,” it’s not “around the corner,” there haven’t been “exciting breakthroughs.” It is a complete outright lie a whole lot of people are telling to a whole lot of other people to con them into investing heavily into some combination of vaporware and parlor tricks, and also to throw off people who might otherwise look at the things they are actually doing and see all the really blatantly illegal stuff they’re doing.

Having gotten that out of the way, it’s also worth explaining that what people are actually talking about when they talk about “AI” is really search engines, for the most part. Like, if I want to read maybe 5 paragraphs about oh, I don’t know, Big Slammu from Street Sharks, I can just open up literally any search engine, type really probably any string of words that contains word “slammu” really, and get a sloppily written wiki page with maybe 5 paragraphs of random facts like his pre-gene slamming name being Coop Bolton, early revisions having his name be the far less memorable Boomer, and him having a friend called Moby Lick. Which... OK I wasn’t expecting my randomly chosen example to go down that sort of road.

Anyway, I could also have one of these overhyped “AI” things tell me about Big Slammu, and most likely get literally this same exact wiki entry. Because yeah, that’s all that’s happening there. It’s grabbing keywords from my input string, looking them up in a database, finding an entry that best fits my string in terms of my terms showing up in it a lot, and printing it out at me. The only difference really is the latter is put together by someone trying to con me into thinking I’m talking to some sort of Real Life Computer Guy who just knows all this naturally as someone who watched the show and has well-articulated thoughts to share on it, and we’re maybe going to play up that fiction by stripping out any headers in the webpage we’re just grabbing and other bits that aren’t the core article content.

None of this is hard to do or novel. If you’re old enough to remember card catalog terminals in libraries, those were doing the exact same thing, except they just pointed you at a book rather than print the contents because storage on computers was at a premium back when they were made. Oh and when you see people talk about giving “AIs” more “training data” that’s literally just adding more to the database it’s searching, or more likely, widening the list of websites it’s searching with preexisting search tools.

“AI art” to be clear is the same thing. Get every art site you can get your hands on that has a tagging system, scrape every image and the tags on it, and then when someone asks for like, “brown hair anime girl hot giant boobs huge boobs enormous boobs” you just rifle through the pile of stolen art for something that comes as close as possible to covering all that text with tags and ideally not having any other tags, and forking it over. Which again, also works if you just do that with a search engine, and always has. But again, since we’re trying to sell people on the lie that some little magical computer boy like Data from Star Trek speed painted you a painting on the spot, we make some effort to hide the fact that we’re just stealing somebody’s art by stealing art from several different people, pasting bits over onto the main image we’re stealing, and wiping over the seams with like the photoshop blend tool or whatever a little to hopefully make it less obvious.

Now to me the part of that that’s basically computer magic is how we just have software tools to blend two images together to make them look like it was originally just one image, but, that part’s been a thing for several decades. Mostly it impresses me because art programs are prohibitively expensive to the point that I personally am to this day using something with all the functionality of Aldus Super Paint on the Apple ][. There IS some actual sophisticated code involved in instructing the program how to identify a hand so that it can paste the hand from one stolen image over the hand from another (and the iffy results from that are why you so routinely get extra fingers with this stuff- some of those were part of the original image, before we pasted another over that wasn’t in quite the same pose). We don’t have an actual Little Gear-Filled Brain Chum who lives in the computer we can explain these things to, so people just have to work out how like if you look at the raw image data and see darker RGB values in a line of pixels or in a circular pattern or some such, that’s probably the outline of a finger, so cut around that.

The best visual aid I can give to explain how this works is this spectacular failure of “AI art” that... I’m not sure I can just paste in under Tumblr’s current rules? Here’s a discussion of it on another site. Anyway if you just open that up, and use your hand or a piece of paper to block out everything from the belly button up, then again from just below the belly button down, you can kinda get a handle on what actually happens here. Presumably the rule this particular “AI” was using to paste pictures together was “find darker pixels than their surroundings in a pattern where one line branches off another at a 30 degree angle or so” which yeah, if you’re looking exclusively at a pile of stolen images of big boob anime waifus is most likely only going to appear in the cleavage. Here though, whoopsie, one of the images we grabbed out of the pile has lines intersecting like that in the crotch. So, that became the paste guide, and we get our wonderful little game of Exquisite Corpse. A human couldn’t make this error. Some sort of actual AI capable of comprehending a request to draw something and using its astounding reasoning to paint an original work (which, again, is straight up not a thing to exist) would also never do this, it’d be starting from a basic anatomical understanding as that’d be the easiest starting point. This only happens because we’re stitching stolen works together based on whatever small part of them matches up well enough to hide with the smear tool.

All that out of the way, if I might cycle back to that failure of a Portopia remake, because everyone in the “AI” scene is either a hustler or a mark, everyone ends up convinced that these “AI” projects can only be improved by giving them more “training” data. If you know it’s a scam, widening the pool of sources you’re stealing from makes it harder for people to notice (especially if you can grab files that aren’t publicly searchable, something people openly admit they’re working on), and if you buy into the hype, then yeah every trashy work of science fiction agrees the more books the amazing computer man speed reads, the more he comprehends our language and customs. In practice though, it just kinda... clutters things up with useless garbage.

Portopia is a very very old, very very simple adventure game. You have like, six or so each of verbs, locations, named NPCs, and something like four items. If you wanted to make a remake that went off speech to text to parser commands, you could probably get it to behave pretty well if it was designed only to listen for and distinguish that handful of relevant terms. But no, this sucker was given the widest possible corpus of “training data,” so even standing in an interview room where there’s literally no valid options to the player than leaving or asking an NPC questions about a very short list of subjects, like say, this other NPC named Kawamura, it’s considering that we might be making plans to get together the next day, or see what people have to say about California.

Probably bloats the game and the processor load by a ton too, or has it communicating with a fully unnecessary server. I’m told at launch, this was way more ambitious, and the idea was to include “AI” primarily so you could just use natural language to pick your assistant’s brain on whatever subject came to mind, not as an explicit hint system, but getting opinions or fun facts about anything you were unclear on from a neutral source. Which... yeah, that kind of “AI” does not exist. You ask “where does Hirata live?” and you’re going to find out about an MMA fighter’s gym or maybe learn some fun facts about the game Sekiro. So they just kinda dummied out everything that’d actually make the game novel for reasons of embarrassment and legality, and we’re just left with this speech to text program that doesn’t recognize the names of the characters, attached to a text parser that... can’t handle the fact it has more than one port as a location. You know what didn’t have this sort of problem? Zork. In 1981.

It also has problems with context. Like, ask a character something they don’t have a response to, and they can just be suddenly replaced by whichever character does have a response to that, because hey, that’s in the list of legal responses, right?

Anyway, when everyone gets on the same page on the emperor having no clothes here, can we please all promise to keep our eyes on the grifters as they look for the next scam and remember these were the same people breathlessly trying to convince people that slight palette swaps of a badly drawn monkey were all unique irreplicable works of special art worth millions of dollars, and just skip to the part where the new obvious scam gets called out?

[ddlockk]

god no because this actually got me think-thonking again.

Man, what if Raul saw himself before the fire at Hidalgo Ranch? Looks at himself in the mirror then halfway expects to see Rafaela outside. I don’t think he remembers what his life was like before the bombs fell (judging by in-game dialogue), but he does remember what it was like after, when he and his family took in refugees and cared for them best they could.

I can see him making jokes about how his cataracts are gone, how he has a full head of hair now, or how much better his knees feel without 200 years on them. I feel like it’d make him a little sad though?? Like a, “damn. this is what it was like and now it’s gone.” It’d feel bittersweet to him, the memory of a bygone era.

—

Hancock is a little iffy? I feel like he’d load in as he is. He does make jabs at his appearance and poke fun at his own insecurities (imo, to cope with the change of it) but ultimately he seems to prefer his life as a ghoul, as John Hancock, above his life as John McDonough. Even if he is a ghoul, he has the ability to say that he chose that life and along with it comes that “of the people, for the people” mentality. He defended a whole town of drifters, arguably saved them, and makes sure everyone is more or less safe under his watch. He even distributes chems to addicts himself because he’d rather they be safe about it, v.s. potentially getting something that’s laced or cut with something more dangerous.

Being a Ghoul means more to Hancock than being smooth, so I think he’d load in as a Ghoul.

—

Charon is another iffy one — I don’t think he remembers what he would have looked like pre-Ghoulification, whether it’s because of how much time has passed, or it’s memory loss brought on by the captial-T Trauma he experienced to turn him into the contract-bound mercenary he is.

Part of me wants to say he’d load in as he is now, because he sees no point in loading in as anything else. Bro barely sees a point in interfacing to begin with — the only reason he’d ever go in there is to backup Lone, and even then I feel like he’d prefer to keep watch of their actual body.

The OTHER part of me wants to give into the “Charon has feelings” thoughts, because I’m a little sappy slut for emotionally constipated men feeling things (probably stems from my love for hurt/comfort).

Imagine Charon trying so hard to remember what he looked like and only catching glimpses at it in his memory. He knows he had these beautifully striking blue eyes, the kind that could rival even sapphires. He knows he had a head full of Auburn hair, and a LOT of it, often needing to tie it back just to see what he was doing. He remembers the bandages on his knees from scraping them when he fell out of trees, and the calluses on his palms from climbing them. He hopes that if he thinks hard enough, he can remember what his name was before they called him Charon, before all the shit they put him through to turn him into whatever a future employer wanted — before they forced him to harden into the man he is today.

Maybe it’s a mix of the two? Wanting to remember, but ultimately fighting against himself and choosing it doesn’t matter what he wants. (I want to tell him his thoughts matter so badly.)

if your favourite ghoul of the series got loaded into Tranquillity Lane, what would they look like?

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[jameui]

UNFORTUNATE FATE

Requested

PAIRING: Jeon Jungkook x M!Reader x Kim Taehyung

GENRE: Angst, Smut, Fluff

WARNINGS: Noncon, Taehyung being a rough monster, Jungkook being a jerk

SUMMARY: You and Jungkook had been friends with benefits for the longest time you could ever think of and when you decided to end all of it, he couldn't take it and decided that you needed a little mind opener.

Your eyes were dreamily looking at your long time crush, Kim Taehyung, a senior who has been nothing, but kind to you and your friend, which was one of the many reasons why you fell for this man. You knew it sounded so cheesy and clichè, but to you the moment you saw him, it was love at first sight. When his eyes met with yours, you couldn't help yourself from getting attached so easily, like a butterfly to a candlelight.

Your friend noticed your staring as she stopped in the middle of eating, cheeks puffed up from being full, then turning her head towards the direction where your eyes stared into. She scoffed and turned back to continue eating her food, rolling her eyes. "Hey, can you stop with the staring? He'd probably think you're a creep."

You sighed while pushing the bottom of your lips and nodded. "I just can't even if you want me to. He's just so irresistible."

As you talked, you were so caught up in your head that you never got the chance to notice the eyes that were boring holes into your back.

You stabbed your fork onto your fries, taking a few pieces of the fried yellow sticks and putting it into your mouth. You hummed while happily munching on your food, doing a little dance on your seat as you did so. Hyejoo, your friend who sat across you, caught sight of a fuming Jungkook whose face was as red as a tomato from all the anger. She subtly went back down to eating her food and cleared her throat. "M/n." She whispered your name while she waved at you to move your ear closer to her mouth.

You did as you were gestured and leaned in closer. "Jung—"

"Hey, Choi! Get your ass up. Now." A deep voiced male sternly told you taking both of your attentions as you glared at him.

"Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?" You tut your tongue and smirked. "Weirdo."

That was enough to make Jungkook release fire through his nose, then took your wrist and pulled you away with him to who knows where. "Ah! Jungkook! Stop!"

"No can do, M/n." Jungkook chuckled darkly. "You've been such a brat, my little bitch. Had fun?"

Once you were able to free yourself from his grasp, you glared at him and pushed him away. "What the fuck is wrong with you? I told you I don't want to be your sex buddy, anymore." You sighed in disbelief and waisted your hands. "I can't deal with just being a fuck bud, when I want you to be my boyfriend."

"Then, I'll be your boyfriend —"

"No!" You retorted quite shocked that Jungkook thought like that. As if he can get anything he wants. "You lost your chance, Jeon. I don't want you anymore." You glared your eyes at him and was about to leave when Jungkook pushed you inside the restroom that you didn't even know was there until now.

"Jungkook, what the—" He cuts you off mid-sentence when he wraps a hand tightly around your throat that got you gasping for air all the while trying your best to remove his hand from your neck.

His eyes darkened and growled loudly, before he moved to the nearest cubicle and pulled both of you inside. He practically threw you inside and got you seated on the closed toilet while you coughed and tried to gather as much air as you can. "You are being so disrespectful right now, doll." He locks the door behind him as he stalked forward, one side of his lips curling up to a smirk raising his knee to let it rest near your crotch caging you in between his arms with his face so close to yours, one wrong move and both of your lips would be touching each other. "Do you wanna know what happens to bad boys, M/n?" His breathe felt so warm on your skin, but you didn't want him so close to you, so you spat at his face smiling proudly when you were able to successfully erase that annoying smirk on his face. Jungkook moved one hand to wipe the spit that you put on his face, before he licked it off his fingers and seductively looked back at your eyes that were opened widely from shock. "You taste good, M/n."

"Fuck you! Get away from me, you creep!" You screamed on the top of your lungs making Jungkook feel more agitated. "You weirdo!" That was the last straw and you finally released the beast that was hidden inside the bunny looking guy's facade. He raised a hand and let it drop to slap your face harshly, leaving a scratch in the process. The impact was so hard it got your head tilting to the side.

He panted heavily, his eyes looking like they were about to pop off from his sockets with how much he opened them from so much anger. "You... stupid bitch!" Then, he gave you another slap that brought tears to your eyes as you held your cheek where it stung the most. He took your cheeks digging his fingers onto the flesh that connected your cheekbone and jaw and made you face him getting you sobbing in pain.

Your tears dropped down your face, but he couldn't care less. In fact, he loved the way you cried. He loved the way each drop fell from your face and to the floor. "S-stop.. you're —Ah!" You screamed once Jungkook dug his fingers even more forcing you to open your mouth.

His eyes panned over your crying face and licked his lips, before his smirk got even wider. "Damn, M/n. Didn't know you could make your face look even prettier. You look so cute right now." He said, then angrily lets go of you making sure to leave you crying. He got back up and sighed while pushing his hair back, looking down towards his crotch and chuckled. "Fuck, M/n. Look what you did to me?" He turned to you and shamelessly showed you the tent on his pants as he started to palm himself. "You got me so fucking hard."

You side eyed him kicked him by the shin that got him wincing in pain. "You have serious issues. Get some—"

Jungkook was fast to recover from the pain and punched your face that was sure to leave a bruise. "You little shit!" He threw his fists one more time towards you, almost breaking your nose.

While you tried to treat yourself from the pain, you suddenly heard the sound of Jungkook hastily unbuckling his pants and let his fly flew open. Jungkook took a fistful of your hair, pulling on it making you whimper that the other male only found pleasing to his ears. "Now, be a good boy and do as I say." He said, then approached your ear and whispered. "Suck."

You could have simply punched him on the face or kick his balls, but knowing Jungkook, you feared that he'd give you more than just throwing punches. Hell, he'd even be capable of killing you. So, with hesitant and shaking hands you reached over the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, his big cock springing to life hitting your face that made you look away. You looked up at him with fear in your eyes.

You didn't want to take that. It was huge and looked like it would destroy your throat if you ever tried to take him into your mouth. "Jungkook.. I.. we can still talk this out."

"Fuck!" He impatiently yelled and once again held your cheeks and forced your jaw to fall open before he shoved his dick inside your mouth, a shocked choking noise coming out from you. Jungkook sighed in satisfaction his head falling backwards while guiding your head on his cock. "Daammmn, M/n~" He hummed with his eyes closing in ecstasy.

Tears pricked on the side of your eyes and gagged whenever the male's tip hit the back of your throat. You dared to look up at him with a very pitiful face that brought you nothing, but a groan from Jungkook who got more turned on from the look on your face. With that, he fastened his pace and let his cock dive deeper into your wet cavern, then deciding to let you take all of him making him howl while you tried your very best to move away from his strong grip on your hair.

He stays for a good couple of seconds to let you adjust to his size, while you gulped and swallowed around his cock that got Jungkook growling before losing all his patience and drilled his dick in your mouth at a very unexpected and rough pace that made your tears fall down your face as you sobbed loudly and muffled out words that was barely understood by the other male who continuously fucked your mouth, not that he cares anyways.

Jungkook, the first time you met him, he was a very sweet and kind person, just like Kim Taehyung, the person your heart beats for. Jungkook always picked you up from your dorm and would offer to treat you to breakfast without any exchange. With that face of Jungkook, you had thought that he would be a useless jerk and a playboy who goes around breaking people's hearts, male or female, and you were right. Moreso now that Jungkook is literally planning on destroying your throat.

Jungkook bucked his hips forward, reaching further down your throat that made you feel bile rising from your throat, but you got yourself swallowing it and shivered in disgust. Jungkook thrusted his cock inside your mouth and went at an even faster pace, your eyes rolled back tears falling down your cheeks, your lips perfectly curled over taking the shape of his cock. At this point you weren't thinking clearly, all you could ever think of was getting this done and over with while Jungkook fucked your mouth and didn't even care for you.

Jungkook increased the pace of his thrusts and you barely even registered his size when your teeth accidentally scraped the skin of his rod, the male, in instinct, pulled away and cursed under his breath, then landed a rough slap across your face making you hold your face. "FUCK! Look what you did?" The smooth flesh of his shaft was now painted with crimson red, the mark that was caused by the gash, visible on the base of his cock.

"You... that was your fault.. asshole." You said, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and glared at him furiously.

Jungkook's eyes peered down at you the same way you looked at him. "Don't you dare—"

"M/n! M/n! Goodness, where could have that kid gone?" That all too familiar voice called out your name as your eyes widened and smiled now that your saviour has arrived.

"Sunbae! I'm over here!" You screamed out, smirking to yourself before a sound of footsteps approached your cubicle and he knocked ont he door.

"Are you here, M/n?" His deep, but gentle voice asked you.

"Yes." You meekly replied and what you heard next made your smile falter.

"Fuck, Jungkook. You should have told me. I wanted to have some fun too." Taehyung said, and although you couldn't see it, you could sense the smirk on his face from the sound of his voice. How did he know Jungkook was here?

Jungkook heaved up his pants after he wrapped paper towels around his bleeding manhood and fixed himself. He opened the door for Taehyung and the younger of the two dragged you out of the cubicle and moved to lock the door before he shoved your body towards the sink. You groaned in pain and held your stomach in disbelief that the least person you ever expected be involved in such terrible things was also a part of the plan. "This little bitch fucking made my cock bleed."

"Oh, really, now?" Taehyung smirked and waisted his hands.

"T-Taehyung-sunbae.. you're in this too?" You asked with a shaking body.

Taehyung scoffed, then placed his hands inside his pockets and neared you. He laid a finger on your chin and pushed them up so you could face him whilst your lips quivered from the feeling of betrayal. "Are you asking what's obvious, M/n?" He smirked before his finger left your face and tilted his head faking an innocent look. "Course I was. Why else would I be so kind to you?"

"You... Why?" You managed to ask, but Taehyung had been waiting for so long and he could no longer wait anymore.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Do you still plan on asking nonsensical questions? 'Cause I'm not having any of it." Jungkook kicked the back of your knee, forcing you to be on your knees kneeling down in front of Taehyung. "Suck. Use your teeth and this will be the last time you'll see light." He threatened you and you could only nod naively with tears falling down your face.

You reached over the buckle of his belt and started to unfasten it, loud sobs erupting from your mouth. How could you have not see this coming? You should have. Taehyung was Jungkook's friend and heard rumors about the two going on about the place to find a person to fuck, be it a girl or a boy. You should have just listened to Hyejoo. She was the one who kept telling you that Taehyung was not a person to trust nor a person to be with. He's just pure red flags and now, you could see it with your own eyes.

You unzipped his pants after you have unbuttoned it and let them fall down to his ankles while your clammy hands moved to remove his boxers. His erect dick sprang into action, almost hitting your face. You looked up at him and tried to change his mind by showing him the fear you were in and tried to beg for mercy, but just like the other, he only liked the way you looked so vulnerable in your state. "Continue making that face and I might just let you go." He said with a sly smirk that became unnoticed by you as you nodded your head in reply.

You sniffed and sobbed, then took his cock into your hand and jerked him off, your fingers barely even touching each other from the size of his dick. You looked up at him while Taehyung groaned and knitted his brows in pleasure. Your eyes both locked with each other, before you proceeded to wrap your lips around the pink bulbous tip of his immeasurable length and played with it by swirling your tongue around the head. You would occasionally look up at Taehyung whose eyes always watched your every move, making you blush a little bit, before you removed him from your mouth and decided to lick the underside of his member in attempt to please the male who groaned and started to tangle his hand with your hair. "Kookie, look. He listens to me so well." Jungkook huffed and crossed his arms as if Taehyung had just took a stuffed toy from him.

Taehyung's attention went back to you when you finally had your lips around his cock and moaned in satisfaction as he pushed his head backwards. You took this as a sign that Taehyung was feeling good and felt your chest swell with pride, despite the fact that Taehyung had already had people who made him feel this good, but the feeling of success that you made him feel pleasure only drove you to do better.

You didn't want to like it, but if it's Taehyung the only thing in your mind was to just submit to him and follow his every order like a dog. You inserted inches of his dick inside your mouth and started to suck at an agonizingly slow pace, but nonetheless Taehyung felt like he was in cloud-nine. "Fuck, baby. Go deeper." You took his order and inserted a few more inches, now his dick halfway inside your mouth as Taehyung whistled and fisted your hair making you groan, the vibrations sending sensations down Taehyung's big package while he moaned. "Damn, shit."

From the side of your eyes, you could see Jungkook glaring at you two. He clearly was angry that you two were having fun and here he was having to deal with the pain you placed him in. You were side-eyeing Jungkook trying to tease him more by smirking widely, until it was wiped away from your face when Taehyung grabbed your head and pushed all of his length inside your mouth reaching further down your throat making you choke while you tried to relax your gag reflex and looked up at Taehyung with tears in his eyes. "Oh, fuck. Shit, baby. I'm so sorry. You're mouth just felt so good." He told you with furrowed brows and wiped your tears away from the side of your eyes before he caressed your face as you leaned to his touch.

You knew Taehyung could possibly be only staging his care for you, but you never cared anymore. You gave his thigh a tap to tell him that you were fine and he thankfully understood when he started to rock his hips slowly into your mouth, gradually increasing his pace. You felt yourself start to leak precum throughout the whole time that Taehyung thrusted his cock in your mouth.

Jungkook had enough and settled himself behind you as he whispered into your ear. "Does Taehyungie taste good, M/n? Hmm?" Jungkook's hot breathe hit the back of your neck as you felt his hands snake under your uniform's polo and reached up to play with your erect buds. He flicked and pinched your nipples while you moaned in pleasure, Taehyung moaning louder. "Are you gonna answer me, M/n or not?"

You nodded your head as though to tell him that you were gonna answer him, but you pointed towards your mouth to tell Jungkook that your mouth was full. "Oh, your mouth's dick-filled, huh?" You nod your head again and Jungkook chuckled deeply. "Is that so?" He looked up at Taehyung and perked his head up. "Faster, hyung. I think our fuck toy needs more."

Taehyung complied and drilled his dick into your mouth at a pace you couldn't handle, your eyes widening in shock and rolled back in pleasure. You were in euphoria. You liked how rough Taehyung was with your mouth you never even noticed you have already came creating a wet patch on your pants.

"Ohh, look. Someone's a little too sensitive." Jungkook whispered, one hand moving down to your ass kneading your butt cheeks as if they were dough and continued to do this until he was finally able to process how supple your bubble butt was.

You couldn't think straight anymore. You just felt so good. Your mouth getting abused, how Jungkook caressed your body and the way Taehyung pulled on your hair, all of it made you feel like you were in heaven. You felt ecstatic. You still could make out the voice of Taehyung who let out chains of curses and grunts as he inhumanely sped up on his thrusting. "M/n! Ah, shiiit! Mmmmh, fuck, baby. So good for me, huh? Taking my whole cock."

You closed your eyes as you succumb to the feeling, now making use of your tongue that only stayed in one position the whole time. You swirled and played with his cock trying to follow the rhythm of his unbelievable speed, Taehyung moaning. "Damn it, M/n. You really know how to make a man feel real good, huh? Guess I wasn't wrong when I said you'd make a good toy." Taehyung smirked and never stopped from slamming his dick in your mouth.

After a few more thrusts, Taehyung pulled his still erect dick from your mouth as you looked up at him with a pout. "But.. but, sunbae still wasn't able to cum."

"Don't worry, M/n." Taehyung bent down to your height with a growing smirk. "There's more than just one way to make your sunbae cum."

"R-reallly? Tell me, tell me!" You desperately asked the older who looked at Jungkook and the latter looked at him.

"Let me show you." Jungkook said before he got you up on your feet and pulled you inside a cubicle, Taehyung following behind with his exposed dick, throbbing like crazy from the sight of you being such a good slut for them. Jungkook sat on the closed toilet while you stood in front of him, Taehyung placing himself behind you. "C'mere. Hold onto my shoulders." He curled his fingers at you and you immediately did as he was told. You held his shoulders, while Taehyung positioned your lower half so it would face him. You gasped when Taehyung, without any hesitation, pulled your pants down the cold air making contact with your ass that was now in full display.

You heard Taehyung tut his tongue staring at your butt making you blush bashfully. "M/n. Are you a virgin?"

You gulped, then buried your face on the crook of Jungkook's neck and nodded your head. "Y-yes."

"Damn. Then, I don't think you'd be able to—"

"No, I can take it, sunbae. Please, just please fuck me!" You pleaded as if it was the end of the world, looking back at Taehyung who was smirking widely. "I've always wanted to be fucked by you, sunbae."

"Really?" He wiggled his brows at Jungkook, who only rolled his eyes. "Then, I'll make sure that your first would be a memory to remember."

Without any preparation, Taehyung aligned his dick to prod at your entrance making you gasp. "Wait, sunbae aren't you gonna prep—AH, FUCK! P-PULL OUT! IT HURTS!" You evidently winced, but your words fell into deaf ears as Taehyung continued to push his tip further down your hole. "Ah! Sunbaee!" You said and tried to look back, when Jungkook took you by the chin and placed his lips on yours passionately kissing you. Your eyes widened in shock, but melted into the kiss anyways and replied to the unexpected invitation.

He pulled away, much to your dismay and whimpered forgetting about the pain in your ass. "Why'd you have to lie to hyung, M/n? I was all your first. I was there to take all your innocence away." He whispered lowly into your ear, making sure it was only you and him who could hear. Luckily, Taehyung was a groaning mess. Growling here and there with every opportunity he could get while still pushing in slowly into your hole. "Is this what you wanted? Hmm?"

"Y-yes, Kookie." You closed your eyes and hugged Jungkook by the neck. "Kook, M'sorry for biting. M'really sorry." You unconsciously apologized, your brain still too far away from being in this place.

"It's alright." Jungkook smiled. "But, you have to be really obedient next time. Okay, M/n?"

"Yes, Kookie. Ye—Ah!" You let out a loud gasp the moment Taehyung was able to slide all of his length inside you.

"Fuck, baby. That felt like you swallowed my whole dick inside you. Do you really want it so badly?" Taehyung asked you seductively and trailed kisses from your neck down to your back in attempt to ease every tense muscle in your body that was caused from the pain.

"Y-yes, sunbae. I want it so, so bad—AAAAH!" An ear splitting scream emitted from your mouth making Jungkook look away from you. Taehyung didn't give you any warning nor Jungkook when he suddenly fucked you into pure bliss. "Sunbae, sunbaee. Nnngh~ Ahh! Good.. GOOD!"

"Yeah?" Taehyung panted heavily as he thrusted at a pace you couldn't even let your ass get wind of. "Then, I'll make you feel even better." Taehyung said and hammered his dick into you as if it was a very easy task and groaned loudly, howling at how much you clenched around his dick. You were about to open your mouth to say something, when Taehyung hit that bundle of nerves that made you see stars your tongue rolling out of its place. "Found it."

Taehyung gladly abused that same area and hit it with every thrusts, with every hit eliciting a moan from you. Jungkook didn't want to feel left out, so he locked his lips with yours once again sucking on your tongue that made you moan, the noise getting swallowed by the older male who had caught your lips. Jungkook now, played with your tongue swirling around at a choreography he obviously led.

Taehyung saw that he wasn't gaining any attention when he was clearly the one who was making you feel satisfied right now with his own dick and there you were happily making out with Jungkook, jealousy rising in his chest. In anger, he pulled himself out of you only to slam his dick back inside you making you let out a lewd noise from your mouth, forcing you to move away from Jungkook's lips. "Attention here, M/n. I'm the one making you feel good."

You nodded your head while Taehyung leaned his body and moved your head to look at him and pulled you in for a rough kiss. Jungkook noticed that Taehyung was trying to get all your attention for himself only and he didn't like it one bit. If anything, he should have been the one fucking your ass into oblivion had not been for his bleeding penis. Jungkook growled possessively and glared at Taehyung who only side eyed the younger as he continued to thrust his dick in and out of you at an animalistic pace.

It was you who pulled away from Taehyung, feeling bad that Jungkook wasn't getting any of your recognition that he deserved. "Kookie..." You said while your ass was getting pounded angrily by Taehyung, as your tears fell down your face from the pleasure that you felt. You parted the male's bangs and placed a kiss on his forehead shaking as you felt yourself grow weak from how much Taehyung fucked your ass, the bliss making your knees buckle the only thing that supported you from standing was Taehyung's strong hands that gripped on your hips tightly.

"Fuck, I'm near. So fucking near." Taehyung said, as you also felt the same.

"I-Inside me, sunbae. Please, breed me. Make me pregnant." You weakly told the male out of pure desperation and eagerness.

"Shit, M/n!" Taehyung growled loudly as he gritted his teeth from how strong he rammed his cock into you. Loud skin slapping and wet noises emitted from the two of you as his thrusts started to get sloppy. "I'm cumming. Cumming!"

"Yes, yes! Ah!" You let out a high pitched moan whilst Taehyung buried his length inside of you and stayed there painting your walls with his cum, finishing inside of you.

Taehyung panted thrusting a few more times to ride out his high. After, he pulled out of you and watched as his thick liquid he filled you with dripped down from your ass. Your legs finally gave in and fell to the floor, you fainting from so much exhaustion.

---------

Your eyes fluttered open feeling yourself laid on something soft. You finally realized that you were resting on the bed inside the clinic when you sat up and looked around. You felt your head throb a little as you held your head and tried to recall what happened. "What the hell..." Then, everything that happened this morning came rushing back into your head making you heave out a loud sigh in disbelief. You did it again. You let someone have their way with you again. Also, one thing that stuck to your head was what Taehyung said. "So, sunbae, wasn't really genuinely kind... to me?"

The door to the room clicked open and you immediately went back to your sleeping position and acted asleep. Footsteps approached you and stopped in their tracks. You heard a person sigh. "Fuck... This is all your fault."

"Me?! You were the one who planned all this!"

"Who the fuck got so angry just 'cause he wasn't getting any attention?"

"Well, who... well.."

"Stop!" You interrupted the two fearing that their arguing would grow worse.

Their heads turned to you and you swore that you could see both of them sparkle in delight. "M/n!" They ran to you and hugged you. "M/n, oh my goodness. Are you hurt somewhere? Hmm? Tell me."

"Nowhere in particular, but—Ah, stop!" You said and held both of your hands up at them as though to tell them to be quiet. "I'm... I'm..." Your eyes looked up at Taehyung, hurt evident in your eyes before you finally cried pulling your knees close to your chest.

"Oh, fuck. M/n! I'm so sorry. Please, don't take what I said seriously. It was just, you know, a script. I was being real when I treated you and your friend kindly. Honest." Taehyung said all in one go to defend himself, regretting ever thinking of saying those things. He knew it would hurt you, but he still went for it. "Forgive sunbae, M/n. I didn't mean it."

You sobbed and sniffed, wiping your tears. "Really?"

"Yeah." Taehyung replied.

Jungkook was a very big baby and didn't know what to do in these type of situations, so in result he climbed up on the bed and gave you a big hug, the hug turning into a cuddle session. You hated Jungkook with all your guts, but why? Why did you let him do what he wants from you? "Kookie... You.. are you okay?"

Jungkook nodded his head. "Yeap. Thankfully, it wasn't a deep cut, but that would be a lesson for me not to mess with a person like you." He chuckled awkwardly making you laugh lightly.

"Hey, not fair. You both get to cuddle." Taehyung whined, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Come on here." You told Taehyung and he gladly crawled towards you as you repositioned yourself to straddle his thighs, while Jungkook placed himself behind you, supporting Taehyung from carrying your weight. "I like this." You said and rested your back against Jungkook's hard built chest before placing a kiss on his chin.

"Uhm... M/n...? We were meaning to ask you." Taehyung started. You hummed in reply while Taehyung blushed shyly. "Would you be fine to enter a.. uhm.. polyamorous relationship with us?"

You looked at Jungkook, then at Taehyung, then back at Jungkook. You pointed at yourself and tilted your head to the side. "Me? Are your sure?"

"Yes. You and only you." Jungkook answered and planted a kiss on top of your head.

You giggled and nodded your head. "I'll be more than happy to."

On the other hand, Hyejoo was busy taking photos eating her sandwich away. "This is so cute."

[crymeariveronceagain]

Keefe and Sophie sleeping in the same house (not the same room Idk how they got in the same house without Grady murdering them but whatevs) and Keefe wakes up from a nightmare bout Cassius

Keefe having a nightmare bout his dad/mom and Sophie comforting him

Grouping these two together because it's mostly the same thing! Hope y'all don't mind!

What doesn't kill you is gonna leave a scar.

Keefe had read that somewhere. Probably in one of the many boring books on his shelves, one of the better ones that he'd read a few times over, but that couldn't satisfy him anymore.

And it was a very true statement.

Lots of things had tried to kill him.

And everything had left scars.

From literal, physical deformities, long lines dragged over his arms, burns that had peeled away skin, things that Elwin couldn't fix, to mental scars. Things he could never run from, never look away from, because they were in his mind. Stuck there, haunting him, living inside of him, growing stronger with every moment.

They were his scars, and it was only when he looked hard that he could see them.

Or, you know, when his mind was finally allowed to rest, and the haunted broken nature of his collapsing mental health finally had its chance to dig its fingernails into the skin of his forehead.

That worked too.

At any rate, tonight was the night of such suffering, and as he lay on the bed in the guest room of the Ruewen's house, monsters made a nest inside of him.

It had been a lovely evening, in all honesty. There was safety at Havenfield, a kind of safety Keefe always wished there was.

But even safety itself cannot flee from the mind of a broken weapon.

He felt it coming, like you can feel the beginnings of an earthquake. The birds are silent and the dogs stop barking. That's how he felt, as he crawled into bed.

And sure enough, he fell asleep.

And the world tore itself apart.

He was ten, again. Or maybe he was still eighteen. Somewhere in there.

But he was smaller than he was, or maybe his father was bigger. His eyes were cold, barely there, looking at him like he was tiny, insignificant, unimportant, worthless.

Words were ricocheting around in his head, or maybe they echoed through the air, things like worthless, useless, why do you even exist, you shouldn't have been born, your mother was right, we should have gotten rid of you when we had the chance, I bet banishment would have made you a little more tolerable, at least we wouldn't have had to put up with you.

Keefe couldn't think, could only feel words that felt like big, rough hands, that felt like words shaking around in his head, that felt like glass cups hurled at walls, the glass cracking too close to his head, the shards scraping at his skin and his fingers aching as he picked up every piece.

Why can't you leave me alone?! He screamed, I never asked to be your son!

But you are, hissed the voice, that sounded like his mother pretending to be his father, where she stood over him in a Neverseen cloak, a knife in her hands and her eyes on fire, You will never stop being my son.

Keefe felt panic building in his chest, and he turned and ran, over buildings and under trees, around forests and his pulse was thick and bloody in his chest, stinging and humming like the buzz of a bumblebee. I'd rather be dead than be your son!

That can be arranged, Legacy.

And from the sky, shadows leapt down, streaking through his body like he was made of sand, like he was faded and broken and missing and the shadows dragged their teeth through him, his entire body screaming with the memory of pain--

Or was it real pain?

Was now the only now there was?

Was death the only way out?

Was this his last moment?

If it was, shouldn't he fight?

Shouldn't he try to stay alive?

Wasn't there something in his worthless life worth living for?

There had to be.

So, he screamed, loud, and the pain increased, and he wanted to forget himself, lose himself in a muddle of forgotten moments, forget this feeling, forget this day, forget every moment and every near death and every death he had ever lived and he pulled at the chains but the chains didn't move and his mother hissed in his ear, so close he could feel her hot breath through the endless shadow, The washer will be here soon.

And he bolted up, still screaming, his breath rasping in his chest like he couldn't feel the air pressing in on all sides of him.

His scream died in his throat.

He sat there, for a long moment, and swallowed.

He was alive.

The thought was alien, if a little disappointing.

His hands would not stop shaking. Phantom pain curled around him, like a blanket of black ice, and he wished he wasn't sweating.

There was a knock on his bedroom door. His body tensed.

He stood, and quietly walked over to it, expecting some monster to stand behind it.

He tried to steady his breathing for a moment, focusing on the memory that this was Havenfield, and that he was at least slightly safer here.

He opened the bedroom door.

There stood Sophie.

She looked up at him, her eyes with dark circles under them, her face pale in the soft night lights in the patterns of real stars above the hallway.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He nodded, forcing a smile to his lips that he knew didn't reach his eyes.

"I heard you scream," she said, her voice gentle.

He swallowed, embarrassment clawing up his throat like bile. "I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again."

Sophie's face went sad. "I don't care about that," she said, softly. "I care about you. I wasn't asleep anyway."

He sighed, heavily, and then shrugged. "You wanna come in?"

She shrugged back. "If you'd like."

He nodded, a little, and she smiled at him. She sat on his bed. He sat next to her.

The heavy silence crept around them. His skin prickled with pain, and he hissed, wanting to scratch it all off.

"What was your dream about?"

Keefe snorted. "What do you think?"

Sophie kept looking at him. "We've lived through so much shit that it could have been anything. What was it, this time?"

Keefe swallowed, heavily. "My parents," he said.

Without another word, Sophie wrapped her arm around him, despite how sweaty he knew he was, and leaned her head against his shoulder.

A soft sort of feeling rushed over him, empty of color but full of heat, gentle and present.

He exhaled, softly.

She stayed there, hugging him.

"I said I'd rather die than be her son," his voice got a little clogged. "I meant it."

Sophie said nothing, but held onto him a bit tighter.

"She told me that it could be arranged. In my dad's voice. But it was her. And my dad's voice was in there too. He's louder. He yells. My mom doesn't yell. Dad gets all pushy, too. Mom just gets..." His breathing shook and chipped and cracked, and it took him a second to finish, "painful."

Sophie leaned her lips against his shoulder, and pressed a kiss there. The feeling filled some deep part of him, feeling like love and respect all at once.

"I wish I could forget it," he said, finally. "I thought that, at the end, and..."

He trailed off into silence.

Sophie let the silence hum for a moment, before asking, "And?"

"She said, right in my ear, "The washer will be here soon," he hissed, wincing. "Hell, if that doesn't open a jar of badness."

"You have a lot of memories that go with that."

"Too many. I think it must have been the marker for her to have them erase stuff. Because it's got so much shit attached to it." He winced. "I ever tell you she used to inject me with things? All the time. I didn't remember it. Stumbled across that a few years ago."

Sophie shook her head, gently, and leaned against him, trying to hold him together.

"She had the only time my dad hit me hard enough to leave a bruise erased too. I didn't remember that until last month. She was covering his tracks."

Sophie winced.

Keefe nodded. "Violent people do violent things," he said, quietly. "I just wish I wasn't related to violent people."

"You're not a violent person, though," Sophie said, softly.

Keefe shrugged. "I've wanted to hit my dad back, just as hard as he hit me, for a whole month."

"I think that's warranted," she answered. "It was only one time, right?"

"As far as I can remember," he half-growled, "And we all know how much my brain is a slice of swiss cheese."

Sophie giggled, just a little, and something inside of Keefe relaxed.

"Are you gonna sleep anymore, tonight?" she asked.

"If I take some knock-out drugs, sure. Otherwise, snowball's chance in Fintan's living room."

Sophie looked at him, for a moment. "You should talk to Elwin about those drugs, Keefe. You never look alright when you wake up after taking them."

Keefe hummed, but stood. "Wanna go sit in the living room and drink coffee?"

"It's three in the morning," she answered.

"That wasn't a no."

She stood up, with him, and held out her arm. "You're absolutely right. It was a yes. Let's go."

And that's how they wound up drinking cups of coffee in the living room, on Edaline's overstuffed couch, while watching Ten Things I Hate About You on the contraband television on an even more contraband DVD, alive and awake, at three in the morning.

[cryonme]

𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐕

PART FIVE- “Just Because They’re Not Here Doesn’t Mean They Stopped Being Wonderful.”

part one here

part two here

part three here

part four here

short series- jj maybank x kook!reader

word count- 4.3k

tw- guns, knives, mentions of weed, stabbing, swearing, mentions of death, fluff 😊, angst 👿, mentions of murder, fighting, drinking, mentions of stitches and hospitals. lmk if I missed anything

a/n- don’t u all love how I said this was gonna be a “short” series and now we’re at 19.2k words total and five parts? and not even done yet? lol. anyway, this chapter is a fucking rollercoaster of emotions and shit gets really real really fast so hold onto your hats, grab some popcorn, and happy reading!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Your friends all stared at you with wide eyes, mouths agape. JJ’s grip tightened on your thigh, you winced a little but he didn’t let up, which you were glad he didn’t.

“Wait, your mom is dead?” John B asked, earning a smack on the back of the head from Sarah.

“You had a sister?!” Pope explained, confusion plastered on his face. “I thought that was just a ru- OW!” A smack from Kiara.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Yeah.”

“You think you know a person then all of the sudden she has a dead mom and sister who were killed by her step brother that you didn’t know about.” John B said, a hint of humor in his voice.

“This isn’t funny, John B.” Sarah scolded.

“It’s fine, Sarah.” You assured your friend. “Look, I know I’m a shit friend for not telling you guys things about my life. Tyler, the abortion, my mom and sister. And I’ll work on getting better at it but all of that isn’t important right now, okay?” You looked between John B and Pope, waiting expectedly before they both nodded and backed off.

“What makes you say that, (Y/n)?” Kie asked you, fully turning her attention to you.

“Well when- um, when Tyler showed up at my house that day,” You swallowed your fear, sitting up straight and taking a deep breath. “When Tyler showed up at my house that day, he said ‘I did everything I could to get my mom to marry your dad. My mom doesn’t know, but what she doesn’t know won’t kill her, and now you’re ruining everything with your fat fucking mouth.’”

The room was silent. Nobody really knew what to make out of all of this, all this time you had come off so unbothered, like your life was picture perfect and there was never a dark cloud in your sky. Everything that had happened the past couple of weeks came out of nowhere for the group of friends, especially JJ, John B and Pope, who didn’t even know you had a step brother. But when the three thought back on it, they never really asked.

After about a minute of everyone sitting in shock, Sarah spoke up, “Well, we need to tell your dad and Christine, right?’

You shook your head, “Not until I have enough proof. The entire island’s eyes are on me right now and if I’m wrong I make a fool of myself. I know this is gonna sound really stupid but, I need to find Tyler.”

“No.” JJ protested, his voice sharp.

“You’re right, (Y/n). That does sound stupid.” Pope agreed.

“Super stupid.” John B chimed in.

“I love you, but I have never heard more stupid words leave your mouth.” Kiara said.

“Guys, maybe hear her out.” Sarah said.

Kie whipped her head to the side, looking at the blonde girl in bewilderment. “Seriously? I’m not listening to you when all you seem to do is put (Y/n) in more danger.”

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know what the fuck to do!” “You tell someone, dumbass!”

“Jesus, you two! Shut the fuck up!” You interjected, standing up and stomping your foot, ignoring the shooting pain going up your leg.

“I came here because I need help, not to sit here and be judged and have you two fight with each other. Kie, lay off. I begged Sarah not to say anything until I was ready, and promised not to go home until I said something, okay? And you two.” You gestured to John B and Pope, “Telling me I’m stupid for something that I haven’t even explained yet is a little premature. Can we all fucking focus?” You had your time to cry and allow yourself to be broken, but now it was time to get shit done.

Kie shrunk in her seat, muttering a half assed “Sorry” under her breath and crossing her arms. John B and Pope nodded, both boys looking down at their shoes. You sat back down and JJ’s hand returned to its rightful spot on your thigh.

“Now, just, listen to me for a second. We,” You put the emphasis on that word so everyone would be a little bit more open to the idea, “Need to find Tyler so we can somehow record a confession from him. I’ll rile him up, and once I get the confession we get the fuck out. Got it?”

“How the fuck are you gonna find him? Even the Sheriff's department can’t find him.” Sarah said.

“Right,” You responded, “First thing to consider, the police are incompetent, especially here. They probably looked at my house and his job before giving up.”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head as he listened to you talk in awe.

“Second thing to consider, I have his number. I can ask him to meet up and talk it out.”

“The more you talk, the more I really don’t like this plan.” JJ muttered, raking his fingers through his hair.

“The more you talk, the more I wanna kick your teeth in.” You smiled sweetly, “This is the only way.” You tried pulling a joke, but JJ’s face remained concerned, so your face fell and you leaned into him. “I’ll be okay, JJ. I’ve been dealing with Tyler for years, okay?”

JJ nodded, taking a deep breath before pulling away from you.

“So what can we do?”

“Wherever I meet up with Tyler, I need you all to be on standby. Someone on lookout, someone hiding near me just in case things go south, and someone waiting in the vam.”

Everyone agreed in unison, nodding their heads. “Anything we can to get this asshole put away.” John B said, giving you an encouraging smile.

+

After going over a few details, and finally sending the text to Tyler that you wanted to meet up, the pogues dispersed around the chateau. Pope was talking Sarah’s ear off about the latest book he had just finished while she politely listened and even threw in a couple of her own thoughts, John B and Kie playfully jabbed long sticks at each other, and JJ stood on the porch, watching you swing by yourself on the hammock, lost in thought. He was trying to decide if he should approach you, or give you space. Just then you turned your head and made eye contact with the blond boy, a soft smile on your face, your signature red lipstick back where it belongs.

Fuck space.

He bounded down the stairs and made his way over to you on the hammock, plopping down next to you. Neither of you said anything for a couple minutes, there wasn’t much to say.

“I was 14.” You said, breaking the silence, causing JJ’s head to turn towards you. He stayed silent as you continued.

“Hit and run.” You laughed bitterly. “My little sister was 12. We were finally getting to the point where we didn’t fight everyday, we were becoming friends. She had just started asking me for advice about boys and was always asking to have sleepovers.” You smiled, remembering your little sister fondly. “It still hurts. It’ll always hurt, I think. But, I’ve learned I can’t change what happened, and I try to be thankful for the time I had with her. I would say she probably wouldn’t want me to be sad, but that’s not true, she loved attention.” JJ laughed with you this time.

“What’s her name?” JJ asked.

“Layla.” You responded, her name feeling weird on your tongue. You hadn’t said her name in years. “And my mom, gosh there was no one like my mom.” JJ wasn’t asking, but you were telling.

“She just always understood, you know? She’d let me stay home if my mind was taking over, she continued to buy the ice cream I told her was my favorite when I was 7, I didn’t have the heart to tell her I didn’t like it anymore.” You frowned, staring at your hands. “Christine is great, I love her with everything in me. But sometimes I wish she was in my life under different circumstances.”

JJ nodded in understanding, taking his hand in yours and pressing a lingering kiss to it. “They sound wonderful.”

“They are- were.”

JJ shook his head, “Just because they’re not here doesn’t mean they stopped being wonderful.”

You yanked JJ’s hand so his arm wrapped around your shoulder and you leaned into him, earning a sweet kiss on the top of your head.

“You’re sweet, princess.” You teased, using the nickname that you would use when the two of you fought.

“Tell anyone and you’re dead meat, baby.”

You laughed, resting your head on his chest. “What changed your mind about me?” You asked, biting your bottom lip.

JJ thought for a moment, mulling over his words to avoid saying the wrong thing.

“I never changed my mind.”

Your heart dropped as you began to pull away, feeling embarrassed.

“Uh uh uh, let me finish.” JJ pulled you back against him and you huffed. “I never changed my mind because I’ve felt this way about you all along. I’ve never had such strong feelings for a person before, so when you came along I mistook all of the signs as hatred. My mom left and my dad…” JJ trailed off for a moment, trying to put together his words in the least concerning way possible, “My dad takes his anger out on me. And I just never really learned how to receive love, or how to understand it.”

Your heart sank at JJ’s words. All those times he’d show up to the Chateau with bruises and scrapes, telling everyone to fuck off instead of boasting about how he “totally kicked that kooks ass”, it was his dad.

“JJ-”

“Mmm, let’s not do that now, yeah? Just know I’ve adored you this whole time, I was just too stupid to see it.”

“When did you change your mind about me?” JJ asked.

You pondered for a moment, thinking back on when you first started thinking of JJ differently.

“That night at the Boneyard, when Tyler showed up. I was dancing with Pope and all I could think was, ‘I need JJ’, and then there you were. I didn’t want you to ever leave my side again. When you took me back to the Chateau and sat me down on the couch, I was confused because I felt so safe and loved, more than I ever have. It was so out of the blue. Hours before we had just been screaming at each other and then I never wanted you to let me go.”

“You’re making this really hard, Red.” JJ huffed, running a hand over his face.

“What?” You asked craning your neck to look up at him.

“Not kissing you.”

You sat up from your position on his chest, turning your body so you were facing each other, your legs hanging off one side of the hammock and his off the other.

“Then kiss me.”

“(Y/n)...”

“What, scared?”

JJ didn’t say anything, he just looked at you. You had that striking red grin, and your eyes held that glint of mischief and joy.

“You were just inconsolable like, an hour ago.”

“But I’m not now.”

“I-”

“Please, JJ.” You pouted, your eyes big and your frown deep as you slowly reached for him.

And he couldn’t say no to that face.

He slowly brought his hand up to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb resting on your cheek as his face slowly leaned into yours, his hand softly pulling you closer by the neck. You brought one hand up to the back of his neck, burying your fingers in his hair as his other hand found its place on your waist. You stared at each other for a moment, noses barely touching. Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it was about to crawl out of your throat, the anticipation was driving you crazy but you were also cherishing every second of it, just being so close to him, knowing what’s about to happen.

His lips just barely brushed over yours and your entire body erupted in butterflies, goosebumps dancing all up and down your arms and legs.

“You fucker.” You teased and JJ giggled before fully planting his lips on yours. You felt like you had been on fire and had been dumped into an ice bath. The relief that covered your entire body and soul was something you had never felt before. You had kissed plenty of people in your lifetime, and nothing had ever compared to the feeling you had kissing JJ.

You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath, but JJ whined and pulled you back into him, bringing you to sit on his lap as he continued to kiss you. You both giggled and broke apart when you nearly toppled out of the hammock, JJ’s hands immediately steadying you. He looked up at you while stroking your cheekbone with his thumb before planting soft kisses to your arm, trailing his lips up to your shoulder, neck, cheek and finally one last sweet kiss on your lips.

“Well it’s about goddamn time!” John B yelled as the rest of the pogues whooped and hollered, jumping up and down. Both of you flipped off your friends and JJ kissed you once more, your middle fingers still in the air.

“You’re fucking incredible.” JJ muttered once you broke yet another kiss.

“I know.” You smirked.

Once JJ helped you off the hammock, with a lot of wincing and you telling him his kissing made your bruised lip hurt, you made your way back over to your friends, an unmistakable feeling of joy filling everyone’s hearts.

John B handed you and JJ a beer, which you had to decline because of your concussion, much to your dismay, but you gladly took the joint that Kie offered you, blowing out the smoke into JJ’s mouth before taking the hit for yourself. The sun started to set on the Chateau, so Pope and John B set up a fire and Kie brought out her ukulele, her and Sarah singing in harmony to Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. Your heart swelled in your chest listening to JJ quietly singing along with his arm slung around your shoulders, his face was tinted the slightest shade of pink from being in the sun all day, making his eyes look impossibly more blue. You knew tomorrow brought troubles and anxiety, but you pushed them to the back of your mind, enjoying this beautiful moment with your friends. You rested your head on JJ’s shoulder, your hand coming up to hold his that was around your shoulder, placing a gentle kiss on his hand. JJ blushed and squeezed you just a little bit tighter.

“(Y/n), you staying the night?”

You smiled and nodded, your eyes a bit droopy from the weed. You had texted Christine already, telling her you were staying the night and assuring her that everyone was staying the night and you were safe.

“Yes!” Sarah exclaimed, getting up from her spot next to John B. “More beer?” Everyone apart from you nodded as Sarah made her way inside the house to grab more cold beer.

“Aw, well if it isn’t the goonies.”​​

That voice.

Tyler approached the Chateau, Topper, Kelce and Rafe hot on his heels.

Everyone stood up immediately, JJ pushed you behind him without a second thought.

“Heard my baby sister wanted to meet up tonight, thought I’d come to her, spare her the trouble.” Tyler said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You were appreciative of JJ’s protectiveness over you, but this was your fight. “I know what you did, Tyler.” You said, trying your hardest to hide the shakiness in your voice as you pushed JJ out of your way, taking a couple steps forward.

“There she is!” Tyler exclaimed, gesturing his arms to you. “You don’t know shit, dumbass.”

“You killed my mom and sister.”

“Me?” Tyler raised a hand to his chest in shock and turned to his friends, who all shook their heads like you were crazy. “I would never do such a thing.” “You said-”

“Did you hit your head too hard the other day? Sounds to me like you’re making things up.”

He was trying to make you feel crazy, and you weren’t putting up with it.

“What was your plan, huh?” You asked, standing your ground. “Hit my mom and my little sister with your car, devastating my family so my dad could go running into your unknowing mother’s arms. Were you gonna kill all of us next so you could get the money? How exactly did you plan on doing that?”

Tyler’s chest was heaving up and down, sharp breaths coming in and out of his nose.

“Layla was 12 years old, you psychopath.”

“I never meant to kill your fucking sister!”

And there it was. Eerie silence fell over the Chateau like a heavy blanket.

“You motherfucker.” You shrieked, stomping forward and sending your hand flying across his cheek. Before you could even blink, Tyler had his hand around your throat and the barrel of a gun pressed to your jaw. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. You could see the pogues, Kiara with a hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes, hugging Sarah close to her, John B and Pope holding JJ back, his eyes wild with anger and fear. You could see Topper and Kelce with wide eyes, obviously unaware of the gun in your step brother's possession. You could see Rafe with a knowing grin on his face. Bastard.

You were terrified, panic surging through your body as you tried to stay still so you wouldn’t anger him with any sudden movements.

“Any of you even think about moving and I kill her!” He screamed.

“Tyler, put the gun down man, what the fuck?” Topper said, his voice calm, trying to talk him down.

“Fuck you!”

And suddenly Tyler was on the ground, the gun flying into the darkness. JJ wasted no time running to your step brother, grabbing him by his shirt collar and beating his face with his fists. You and Rafe made eye contact before both of you made a break for the gun, scrambling through the darkness. Rafe tackled you down and tried to reach for it, but you kneed him in the crotch, hoping to buy you a couple seconds. The Cameron boy groaned and held his area, toppling over and whining in a fetal position.

“Pussy boy.” You rolled your eyes and crawled toward the gun, smiling once it was in your grip before Rafe pulled you back by your ankle. You flipped over onto your back and pointed the gun at him.

“You don’t have the guts.”

“Self defense, bitch. Now get off of me.”

Rafe backed up with his hands in the air and you made your way back to the group, gun in hand, still pointed at Rafe. Tyler and JJ were going at it, both throwing punches and kicks, the rest of the group fighting off Topper and Kelce.

“Back off my friends or I'll shoot!” You yelled, and everyone stopped and turned to you with your gun pointed at Rafe. The three kooks backed off with their hands up in surrender.

“You won’t shoot me, Little Red.” Tyler said, walking closer to you.

“I will if you try anything.” You responded, taking the gun off of Rafe and shoving him forward so he was still in your eyesight, now pointing it at Tyler.  

“You stay away from her!” JJ yelled, charging towards Tyler but quickly being held back by Rafe and Topper.

Tyler got so close to you that the gun was touching his t-shirt.

Why was he testing you? He had to have something up his sleeve.

The motherfucker literally had something up his sleeve.

Tyler tore a switchblade out of his jacket sleeve and jabbed it into your collarbone, and in the same second you fired the gun.

Your brain felt fuzzy, you couldn’t even feel the knife in your collarbone, the only way you knew it was there was because you could see it sticking out of the corner of your eye.

You heard screams, multiple screams.

Footsteps running away.

Was someone crying?

Were you crying?

Everyone ran to you, JJ leading the group, so he got to you first. He immediately put his hands on your face, frantically searching your eyes before you dropped to your knees, JJ following suit.

“Baby, look at me.” He said firmly. Someone gently took the gun from your hands, why were you still holding it? You brought your hand up to touch the knife, crying out in pain from the smallest touch.

“No, don’t touch it, okay? Leave it alone, paramedics are on their way okay?”

You still didn’t look at him, your eyes were wide as you stared at everyone around you, their faces full of concern.

“She’s in shock.” Pope stated. He was crouched in front of you, next to JJ. “Try to bring her back to reality.”

“How the fuck do I do that?” JJ snapped.

“Chill, JJ! Talk to her, touch her, anything!”

JJ’s left hand continued to cradle your face and you leaned into his touch as his right hand threaded through your hair. “You’re okay, okay? Can you talk to me?” His voice broke, tears beginning to fill his blue eyes.

Your eyes wandered away from the group and landed on Tyler’s body, lifeless. You let out a gasp as if all of the wind had been knocked out of your body.

“I killed him.” You rasped.

JJ quickly moved in front of the body, blocking your view of him. Your breathing was shallow as you brought your hands up to your neck, trying to claw at the skin to make way for you to breathe. Pope’s hands gently grabbed yours, moving them away from your neck and holding them in your lap. JJ gave him a thankful nod and he situated himself in front of you.

“Christine-” Your body flooded with guilt and sadness for your stepmom, that was her son. He may have done unspeakable things to you and her family but that was her son. And you killed him.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhh,” JJ was quick to stop the terrible thought. “You had to, okay? She’ll understand. Just focus on me, baby.”

You nodded and squeezed Pope’s hands, focusing your eyes on JJ’s.

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl. Just a couple more minutes, okay?”

You nodded again. The pain in your collarbone was beginning to worsen as your shock wore off and you whimpered.

Great, you thought, another fucking injury to make my life even better.

Really your whole body hurt, your concussion and bruises worsening and stitches ripping open from Rafe tackling you to the ground.

“It hurts.” You whine, a single tear escaping from your eye, JJ wiped it before it could run down your face. “I know.” He whispered. “I know, my love, I’m so sorry.” He rested his forehead on yours, trying his best to give you as much comfort as he could without pulling you against him and driving the blade further in.

“Fuck, you guys. We didn’t get a recording.” Kie said, slapping her palm against her forehead. You removed one hand from Pope’s and worked through your pain and brought your phone out of your back pocket, tossing it on the ground, not having enough strength to hand it to her.

John B picked it up and smiled, your phone had been recording the entire time, starting just a minute after Tyler made himself known at the Chateau.

“(Y/n), you magnificent kook.” John B said, giving your arm a squeeze. You had moved your forehead to rest on JJ’s shoulder, your body posed awkwardly to avoid the knife being touched, one hand still in Pope’s.

Everyone was relieved, but the dead body in their presence and the knife in your body made it hard to be completely relieved. Once the paramedics and police arrived, JJ had to release you from his hold, watching the paramedics put you on the gurney and load you in the back of the ambulance, by yourself, for the second time.

Kiara and Pope were talking to the police, showing them the proof on your phone and the gun and walking them through everything that happened while JJ watched the ambulance drive away, as soon as it was out of sight he broke down, John B quick to pull his friend into his arms, Sarah gently leaned her head on his back, her hand coming up to stroke his back

“She doesn’t deserve any of this.” JJ cried, holding onto his best friend. He knew you were gonna be okay, the paramedics said the knife would be easy to remove and they could stitch up the wound easily, but he was worried about you. You would never be the same.

“She doesn’t.” John B agreed.

“I just want her to be okay.”

“I know, bubba, me too.” John B replied, his own tears brimming in his eyes, “She will be.”

JJ could feel Sarah shaking against him, her tears wetting his shirt and he unravelved in arm from John B to bring her into the hug. “Get in here, kook princess.” JJ teased through his tears. Pope and Kiara soon joined the group hug, comforting their friends through touch.

“What did Shoupe say?” JJ asked once they all pulled away, wiping at his tears.

“They said (Y/n)’s okay, a very obvious case of self defense, but they’re still going to ask her a couple questions once she’s of sound mind.” Pope answered and Kiara nodded.

“Thank God.” Sarah breathed out and JJ’s shoulders relaxed in relief, one less thing to worry about.

“Well why are we all just standing here?” John B asked after a couple moments of silence. “Let’s go see our girl.”

+

“I am still meeeeee you are still youuuuu” I couldn’t get that damn song out of my head while I was writing this

my masterlist 

taglist: @avatarastra @rowanwashere @luniibin @imjustanothernerd @maddyasleson @vntgkenz @ponyboys-sunsets @imawhoreforu @maybvnks @tpwkcth @steves-cake-face @ellavalentine1844 @aleksanderwh0r3 @sunsetloveblvd @fallingfavourites @ajxlawley @sarahcameronswhore @24kkenn @perfectnouis @heartbeats-wildly @fandoms039 @gopromises @xxxlaura @6r4cie @mendesmaybank @moonysluvr @kiwi5335 @jjs-pope @aliyahsomerhalder @parkershoco @abm111815 @allaloneisokay @father-violet @yourbloodyqueen @sweetpeterparker @holachicos @llilacwine wine @wishpretty @welcome2-theshitshow @nope-thanks @sarahs-bitch @oopsiedoopsie23 @kexrtiz @chenlemure @sarahxcameron @yoongitoo @gloryekaterina @caseysalvatore @moniamaybank @futur3milf @matbarzalschain @americaarse @stilynskii @iamthatbitchhh @rmvb24

[heyitsperfect]

Big brother Angel - Angel Reyes

Warnings: angst, mention of death, fluff

Request by @phoenixhalliwell:Hey 👋, I'm really sorry to hear you've not had the best week, I hope your weekend picks up 💛I was wondering if I could please put a request in for do you want a hug with big brother angel and do you think that lowly of me with sonny? Thank you 😊

“ANGEL” you cried as you ran back into the house with knees scraped open and tears streaming down your face. 

“Oh hermanita what is wrong?” Your big brother asked you as he crouched down to have a better look at you. You were four years old and Angel was your hero in shining armor. Ez didn’t stand a chance next to Angel. 

“I fell off my bike and my knees hurt know.” You did your best to explain everything while crying. Angel took you in his arms and gave you the best big brother hug of all. He lifted you up and placed you on the nearest table to take care of the wounds on the knees. 

“Do you want a hug?” you only nodded your head. 

“Huggies make everything better!”

--------/////

“God damn.” you slammed the front door shut after coming home from school.

“Hey, no swearing in this house little girl!” your mother exclaimed. “What’s gotten into you? Is everything okay?” she asked clearly concerned about you. 

“Yeah, no. Where’s Angel? I need to talk to him.” 

“He’s in the backyard helping your brother with something.” You left your mom behind without further explanation. 

“Can you beat someone up for me?” you stood next to his head as he was laying under the truck trying to fix it. Ez was sitting behind the wheel waiting for Angel so he could start the engine. 

“Ouch.” he hit his head at your sudden question. “What? Why? Did someone hurt you? I’m gonna beat him into a pulp.” Sometimes it was good that Angel became overly protective of you, but sometimes it was causing more trouble than before. 

“No. My god damn teacher is a total dick. He keeps comparing me to Ez and his smart ass.” Ez got out of the car and walked up to. Angel was by now standing behind you, wiping his hands with an old rug to get the oil of. 

“Not anybody can be as smart as me.” Ez smirked. 

“Sure, but I don’t want to be the golden boy. This family already has one!” you sassed in his face. Ez and you were close, but Angel and you. Nobody would come in between. 

“Ha, see golden boy? Not everyone wants to be like you. Even our little hermanita knows that.” he turned to you. “Do you want a hug? You know huggies make everything better.” he smirked down at you. 

“Ew, no! You’re sweatie.” you walked back inside but before you reached the door you looked back at Angel. “Maybe after you took a shower.”

----/////——

It was probably the darkest day of your life so far. You just put your mother to her last rest after she got shot in the head in the shop. Your dad was a mess and your brothers too. Ez found her and was determined to take revenge. Angel already has moved out and was part of the Mayans. This time you had to be strong for the men in your life. 

After the funeral you went home with your dad and Ez. Felipe locked himself away and Ez was too busy finding out who killed your mom. So you changed out of your black dress and put on some jeans and hoodie and made your way to Angel. 

„Angel! I know you’re in there. Don’t lock me out!“ Suddenly the door opened and a shorter man with SnapBack with black hair peeking out looked at you. 

„Coco it’s okay. That’s my sister.“ Angel walked by him and closed the door. „Sorry bout that. He just got back home from Afghanistan.“ he looked at you, sadness written all over his face. 

„I don’t know where to go. Dad locked himself away and Ez is back on finding out who did it. How are you feeling?“ 

„I don’t know hermanita. I’m going to be fine.“ he sat down on the steps on the porch. You sat down next to him. 

„Don’t do this. You know you can talk to me, don’t shut me out too.“ you leaned your head on his shoulder. „Do you want a hug, Angel? You used to tell me when I was still a child, Huggies make everything better!“ he smiled sadly at you but nodded. You wrapped your arms around him and you stayed like this for a while. 

This might be hard for your family but together you would solve this and hugs made, indeed, everything better. 

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 23 - Surrender [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking.

Word Count: 4400

Summary: Secrets can’t stay hidden forever.

The possibility of you sitting with a killer who had sworn to destroy you was scary for sure, but thinking that the said killer could be much closer to you than you had thought was enough to make your blood freeze in your veins.

It was as if you were going through the same thing that had happened with your dad ages ago, but with a small difference;

Your dad had never tried to hurt you, but this time the killer was coming after you.

Spencer stood beside you as you exhaled the smoke of your cigarette into the air, your hands still shaky but you forced yourself to focus on the police and the FBI escorting people out of the building while he kept his gaze on you.

“You might be wrong though?” you managed to ask, looking up at him, “Right? Maybe it’s not—maybe it’s not someone as close to me?”

Spencer heaved a sigh, “We need more evidence, but you need to keep that in mind that it is possible. I mean— it makes more sense than it being just a stranger, don’t you agree?”

“I don’t agree that I’ve had the misfortune to be close with two serial killers throughout my life, no,” you murmured through frozen lips, “Maybe it’s me. Maybe I was doomed to survive one serial killer to be killed by another.”

“I will never let that happen.”

You took another drag of your cigarette, “I have a feeling the killer might end up not asking for your permission, professor,” you stated and turned your head when you heard the sound of heels coming closer. Mina ran a hand over her face, clearing her throat.

“I sent Kenz away from here,” Mina said and it didn’t escape your notice how she was deliberately avoiding giving any details, just in case. “We’ll regroup at mom’s place, you, me and mom.”

“Just us?”

Mina clicked her tongue, “All things considered,” she murmured, “So I’m not going to beat around the bush; we both agree that it’s not Kenzie right?”

You nodded, “Clearly,” you said and pulled your brows together, “Wait, we’re sure it’s not Kenzie but we still suspect each other?”

“I don’t know, do we?” Mina asked back and you shifted your weight, looking down at the cigarette in your hand.

“Mina, I don’t—”

“Listen, it’s not the place for this conversation,” she interrupted you, “Mom’s place, half an hour.”

“That might not be the best idea,” Spencer said, looking between you two and Mina scoffed.

“It’s not our first rodeo with a serial killer among us, Dr. Reid,” she said, “I already gave a list of my alibis to your colleagues, so did my mother. There’s nothing to keep us here.” She nodded at you, “Don’t be late, we have a lot to talk about.”

With that, she walked away from you two and grabbed her keys from the valet while you stubbed your cigarette.

“So did you check everyone’s alibis?”

“Yeah, at least the people close to you,” Spencer said, “They all look solid.”

You raised your brows, “But?”

Spencer clenched his jaw, “I need to go over all the files, all the recordings with your father—”

“I don’t think it’s my father who’s behind this. Not this time, and not at the cabin. He wouldn’t dare.”

He frowned, “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Well think about what happened the last time I-“ you snapped your fingers, “Right. You weren’t there.”

“What happened? Luke just said you walked away because your father got on your nerve.”

“That’s one way to put it,” you muttered and motioned at the valet to give him your ticket so that he could bring your car, “Listen, I gotta go. Mom is probably at home and Mina is going there and I can’t….I need to talk to them.”

“It might be dangerous.”

“Spencer, it’s my family we’re talking about,” you insisted, “I can’t— if I start suspecting them too, I have nothing left to hold on to.”

He opened his mouth to disagree but you saw Luke coming closer to both of you.

“Hey, Rossi says we need to get back to the office. Emily and Tara are already there,” he told Spencer and turned to you, “We need to stop meeting like this, trust fund baby.”

“Dude, you guys are the ones who show up and scream murder everywhere I go.”

Luke chuckled, holding up his hands and mocking surrender while valet pulled over in front of you.

“Here you go ma’am.”

“Thank you,” you offered him a small smile before you looked up at Spencer. “I’ll see you later I guess.”

“Call me when you get there, we’re also sending a car to your mother’s place and your place just to be sure.”

You nodded, heaving a sigh and Spencer squeezed your arm as if to assure you before pressing a kiss on top of your head.

“Be careful.”

“Hey I was trained by a serial killer, how many people can say that?” you tried to joke as you walked to your car, “I’ll be fine.”

You got into your car and valet closed it, then you started the car and drove off.

                                                 ***

The living room was completely silent in your mother’s house. In fact, the whole house was silent, the only noise was the constant ticking of the huge clock on the wall while all three of you sat still, waiting for someone else to talk. Your mother drummed her fingernails on the table, something she would reprimand you for doing if it were another time, Mina bit inside her cheek, her gaze fixed on the wall and you downed the whiskey in your glass, then filled it again.

“Okay,” Mina said and sat up straighter and looked between you, “I just want to say, if it was someone in this room this whole time, we can- I can fix this.”

“Jesus Christ, Mina!”

“You can’t possibly suspect-“

“We’ll say it was dad’s influence, we’ll call it trauma after-“

“Do you hear what you’re saying?”

“I’m just saying, if it is one of us, it’s dad’s fault.”

“It’s not one of us!” you insisted but then you turned your head when you heard the doorbell ring. The sound of heels came closer and Mina threw her head back as soon as Kenzie walked inside.

“Kenz, I told you to-“

“Yeah, spare me the bullshit, I came as soon as I made sure Lily was alright and safe,” she waved a hand in the air and you closed your eyes for a moment.

“Kenzie, you really shouldn’t be here.”

“Why? So that all of you can dramatically blame each other? I know how you guys get, there’s not an ounce of logic between the three of you.”

Your mom heaved a sigh and got the whiskey bottle from you, “What did Spencer say again?”

“That it was possible it was someone at our table. It’d make more sense than it being a stranger.”

“So either one of us, or Lincoln, or Nolan.”

Your mom gasped, “Nolan had nothing to do with that!”

“Just saying, it wouldn’t be the first time some man you loved didn’t turn out to be the man he pretends to be-“

“Mina, low blow,” you cleared your throat and your mother narrowed her eyes.

“I know it’s not him.”

“Then it has to be Lincoln.”

You let out a small laugh, “Dude, don’t you remember what he was like when we were children? He cried when he saw me scrape my knees and his mom had to take him away.”

“People change.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d know if one of my best friends were a serial killer, Mina.”

“He came late to the auction.”

“So did all of you!” you insisted, “You don’t see me blaming you- by that logic where were you?”

“Are you kidding me? My meeting took longer than I expected, go check my security camera footage. Where were you?”

“Mina!”

“I was literally talking to Spencer while it was happening!”

“Are you two seriously blaming each other?” Kenzie gawked at you and Mina shrugged her shoulders before turning to your mother.

“How about you mom?”

“What is this, an Agatha Christie novel?” your mother asked, exasperated, “Ask the driver, it took us more than an hour to get there because of the accident.”

“It could be anyone in that auction hall, yes, including someone in this room but they checked our alibis. Spencer said it was a possibility, not that it was certain,” you managed to say, “They still need more evidence and I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to start blaming the only people in my life that I actually trust.”

A silence fell upon you and Kenzie sat down beside you, then filled herself a drink as well.

“The moment we start blaming each other, we’re lost,” she said, looking Mina in the eye, “Your dad almost tore this family apart once, don’t let this copycat do the same. It’s not one of us and you know it.”

“No one is blaming you Kenz,” you rasped out and Mina ran a hand over her face.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, “Jesus, I’m— it’s just that… It fucks with my head.”

“You get used to it,” you sipped your drink and turned to your mother, “For what it’s worth, I really don’t think it’s Nolan either. I mean what are the chances of getting married to a serial killer twi—“ you stopped talking as soon as Kenzie kicked you under the table and Mina gasped, shooting you a look as you covered your mouth. Your mother stared at you, her jaw dropping and you cleared your throat, trying your hardest to come up with something.

“I mean—“ you stammered, “I’m drunk and I just saw Spencer being all hot and whispering in my ear after there was a murder so my feelings are all over the place, I don’t know what I—“

“Now that she fucked up first, I can say it.” Mina said, “Nolan will ask you to marry him.”

“I was un-fucking it!” You hissed and Mina scoffed.

“You haven’t un-fucked a thing in your goddamn life.”

“I can’t believe this is how I’m finding out about this,” your mother breathed out, still staring at you two and you let out a whine, burying your face into your hands.

“I’m sorry!” your voice came out muffled and Kenzie let out a giggle, patting your arm as you raised your head again, “I- well- my dad was a serial killer!”

“What is that, your out of jail card?” Mina asked, “The same guy was also my dad but you don’t see me giving out secrets and spoiling surprises.”

“When did he say that to you?” Your mother asked, sitting up straight, “Y/N, you’re telling me everything right now!”

“I saw my ex looking hot tonight and someone got murdered while I was flirting with him, I’m allowed to mess up once or twice!”

“That’s a strange way of describing your whole life.”

“Shut up Mina or I swear—“

“Y/N!”

“He asked for my blessing and I said yes,” you murmured, “So did Mina and Kenzie. But I think we all threatened him first, right?”

“Nope, you’re the creepy one in this group.”

“Yeah I think it was just you.”

“Fine! Okay, I threatened him first,” you admitted as your mother stared at you, “In my defense, I was also pretty drunk back then because of my break up with the love of my life, in case anyone at this table forgot—“

“I wish. Maybe I could try to forget it if you stopped talking about it for five fucking minutes though.”

“Babe!”

“And my serial killer father—“

“Having daddy issues isn’t an excuse to be a snitch, bitch.”

“Mina, stop insulting your sister for a moment,” your mother told her and turned to you, “What did he tell you?”

“That he has been in love with you for… I don’t know, centuries because he’s like a five hundred years old vampire.”

“He feeds on money though, not blood.” Mina pointed out, “I actually can see him as an evil lord somewhere, now that you mentioned.”

“Getting information from this family is a nightmare,” your mother heaved a sigh, “And?”

“And nothing. Make sure to get your nails done when he takes you on a dinner now that we all gave him our blessing but I’m so not planning your wedding, my client list is full.”

“Nobody buys that excuse Y/N,” Kenzie reminded helpfully and your mother shook her head.

“Oh but I can’t possibly—“ she heaved a sigh, “I can’t marry him yet.”

Instantly, all three of you turned to him with the same surprised expression on your faces.

“…Were you gonna hit it and quit it mom?”

Your mother pinched the bridge of her nose “Mina, what is wrong with you tonight?”

“I have no idea. Is this what being traumatized is?”

“Yeah welcome to the club, I’ve been here for a while,” you waved your hands in the air, “Mom, I thought you loved Nolan. Don’t you?”

“No, I’m completely in love with him!” your mother said quickly, “He’s the best man I’ve ever known or been with.”

“Meh, let’s not pretend the bar is—“ Mina started but stopped talking when Kenzie elbowed her, “Sorry. I’m just going to keep drinking over here to keep my mouth busy.”

“But?”

“Sweetie, I can’t get married when…” your mother gestured at you, “When you haven’t found a partner yet!”

You made a face, “Why did we teleport into Jane Austen times all of a sudden?”

“No, you know what people would say.”

“Since when does that stop you?” you asked her, “Come on, who the fuck cares what anyone thinks? They can all go to hell.”

“Y/N, I appreciate the thought but-“

“Mom,” you said, “I might just end up alone, okay? You can’t spend the rest of your life waiting for me to get married or find a partner or something just because of some stupid unwritten rule. Fuck those people, let them talk.”

“It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to have an actual wedding either.”

“Who’s coming up with these rules?” Mina exclaimed, “Mom, do whatever you want. This family threw appropriate out of the window long ago.”

Kenzie nodded fervently, “People will always find something to criticize, you can’t let that get to you. If you love him, go for it.”

“But wait for him to propose first, I have a feeling it’ll be the biggest ring I’ve ever seen,” you clinked your glass with hers and wiggled your brows, “Can I please be the one to tell dad though? I want to record the look of devastation on his face. I’ll make it my wallpaper.”

                                                  ***

The next day, you tried your hardest to focus on work. Even if Spencer’s words kept echoing in your ears, you couldn’t help but think that he had to be wrong.

Maybe he was. Maybe it was someone else in the hall, other than your family or Nolan or Lincoln. It was impossible for you to suspect anyone in your family, and Nolan and Lincoln had had more than enough time to be alone with you and hurt you, but neither of them had given you any sign of being dangerous.

Besides, you were sure that after spending so much time with your father, you’d be able to tell if it was someone around you.

Or at least you hoped so.

You took a sip of your rosé and bit inside your cheek, staring at your dinner table in the middle of the living room which now looked like something pulled out of a horror movie. You heaved a sigh, holding your hand over the various types of knives, the memory flashing in your head.

“Alright Petal,” your father tugged you by the hand so that you could get closer to the coffee table full of knives, “Let’s see if you studied like I told you, hm?”

“I have!” you gave him a bright smile before you bit at the stick candy and he raised his brows.

“Honey, don’t bite at candy, you’ll ruin your teeth.”

“No I won’t,” you said stubbornly, still holding the candy tight, “I’ll brush my teeth afterwards.”

He heaved a sigh and grabbed a blade off the table, then held it up.

“What is this?”

“A trench knife,” you said, looking at the handle that looked more like brass knuckles your father had shown you before, “You can hold it over your fingers so it’s better for…for…”

“Close combat.”

You nodded, still chewing on the candy and your father put it back, then showed you another.

“This?”

“Push dagger!”

“How do we use push dagger?”

“When you hold it in your palm, the blade is between your fingers.”

“So that…?”

“So that the prey can’t see it until it’s too late.”

He nodded, “You really did pay attention, Petal,” he commented and you giggled, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet and turned the candy in your mouth as he held up another blade.

“This?”

“Butterfly knife!” you said and motioned at him, “I want that one.”

“Because it’s called a butterfly?”

“Daddy I love butterflies!”

He smiled, then grabbed another from the table, “Do you know what it is?”

“Another butterfly knife?”

“No honey, this is called a trainer, see?” he showed you, “I want you to practice with this first. It has no knife, so you won’t be cutting yourself until I say you can switch to an actual one.”

You clicked your tongue, twirling the butterfly knife between your fingers, the motion almost automatic. You had become so good at it when you were a child that you didn’t even need to think about how to flip the knife after all these years, your hands already remembered it.

“Trench knife, push dagger,” you counted slowly as the thunder lit up the dark sky outside, “Good for close combat, good for stealth….Stiletto, good for deeper wounds. Bowie is good for—“ you were cut off when you heard someone banging their fist on the door. You could feel your heartbeat getting faster and you flipped the butterfly knife in your hand, approaching the door but as soon as you looked through the peephole, your stomach made a happy flip.

“Spencer?” you muttered and opened the door, “What’re you—”

“Are you insane?” he cut you off, glaring daggers at you and you pulled your brows together.

“Huh?” you asked as he walked past you into the apartment and you closed the door before following him. He ran a hand through his curls, clearly the rain outside had made his hair even messier and he turned around to say something, but then got distracted.

“Why are you holding a butterfly knife?” he asked and you flipped it again before throwing it on the table and he frowned at the sight on the table.

“What the hell is this?”

“Uh, butterfly knife, trench knife,” you pointed with your finger as you counted them, “That’s a stiletto knife, that’s a switch blade, right next to it is a push dagger and the one over there is called—“

“I know what they are, why am I looking at them?”

You arched a brow, “Take a guess.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What?” you let out a bitter laugh, “I’m done taking it lying down, okay? Last night was the last straw, if that copycat wants to come after me, I say let them. The man who they’re looking up to was the same man who trained me for my whole childhood, I like these odds.”

“Yeah?” he scoffed, his eyes narrowed in anger, “Is that why you threatened one of the most dangerous serial killers of our time?”

You tilted your head, “My father?”

He threw his hands in the air, frustration getting the best of him,

“Yes, your father!”

“So you basically ran all the way here to yell at me because I threatened my father?” you asked as you walked past him, then grabbed your wine glass and leaned back to the table, “Don’t worry professor, it’s a family thing. We’re impulsive. He’ll be fine, unfortunately.”

He ran a hand over his face, “What were you thinking?”

“To be honest with you, I kind of wasn’t thinking,” you pointed out before you took a sip of your wine, “How is he these days, by the way?”

“I’m glad you find this entertaining,” he said through his teeth, “Because I can assure you, this is not funny.”

“Oh come on, it’s a little funny.”

He took a deep breath as if he was trying to control himself, “You think threatening a serial killer with murder is funny?”

“I mean have you seen the look on his face? I don’t know if the video got that but—“

“Why did you break up with me?”

Well, Spencer had a way of taking you by surprise, that was for sure. You lowered the glass and blinked a couple of times, trying to pull yourself together.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. Why did you break up with me if you were going to threaten a damn serial killer because he implied he might come after me?”

“I hope you know that normal exes don’t have these kind of conversations,” you tried to joke but he only raised his brows.

“Y/N.”

“Spencer,” you heaved a sigh “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I do,” he said, his voice almost too low, “You just don’t want me to know what I’m talking about.”

“Listen, I know how it might look like but I can assure you I’d do it for any—“

“Garcia was with me while I was watching those tapes.”

Your eyes snapped up to his as your breath got caught in your throat. You swallowed thickly, painfully aware of how he was probably seeing all your tells but even that thought didn’t stop you from drumming your fingernails on the fragile glass you were holding, pursing your lips for a moment before you cleared your throat.

“What—um—what did she say?”

“You mean before or after she said you broke up with me to protect me even if I’m an FBI agent already working on this case?”

God damn it Garcia.

The thunder boomed outside again and you frantically tried to find the right words, but it felt impossible to do so. He took a step closer to you while you stared at him, completely frozen and you closed your eyes for a moment.

“Spencer…” you muttered as you opened your eyes again, “Whatever training they gave you, trust me, they didn’t train you for my father.”

“Is that why you said all that stuff back then?” he asked slowly, “When we broke up?”

“It doesn’t matter—“

“Yes it does.”

A sad smile pulled at your lips as you put your wine glass down, and shrugged your shoulders.

“I thought—um, I thought it I hurt you that badly, you’d never want to see me again,” you admitted, “So if you were away from me, you’d be safe. Away from my father, away from the copycat, away from all of this. Working on this case is not the same as being caught in this fucked up web, you know that.”

“You didn’t think you should’ve at least asked my opinion on this?”

“You would’ve said no.”

“Of course I would’ve said no!”

“Exactly!” you threw up your hands, “You might not care about your survival in this situation, but I do, okay? I love you too much to let you get hurt because of me—” as soon as your brain acknowledged what had just slipped from your lips, you stopped talking, your breathing getting faster while panic seemed to flood your system. He stared at you, a soft light appearing in his eyes and you shook your head at yourself.

“Fucking great,” you muttered, “Yeah, um you— I’m— it doesn’t matter. Do whatever you want to do with that information.”

You took a step to walk past him but he had already grabbed your arm and pulled you back. Before you could even ask him what he was doing, his lips found yours, letting that warmth shoot through your stomach into your whole system. The feeling was so sudden but so mind numbing that you thought Spencer was right before, this was definitely like a drug, an addiction. His fingers caressed over your neck while your body pressed against his like some sort of a magnet and a soft whine escaped from you as he pulled back slightly.

“Don’t run away,” he whispered against your lips “Not this time.”

You felt the tears rushing to your eyes. “Spencer-“

“I love you.”

“You shouldn’t,” you murmured before he stole another kiss from you.

“I love you,” he repeated, his hazel eyes locked in yours, “And I’m done pretending like I don’t.”

It was a bad idea. You knew it was a bad idea, you knew it would put him in danger, but none of that seemed to matter to you after hearing that he loved you. For some reason, you were convinced that you two would find a way, that everything would be alright as long as you loved each other, naïve as it was.

The happiness burst through you, wrapping you in a soft and warm haze as you reached back with one hand to sweep everything off the table, sending all the knives to the floor with a loud noise before you jumped to sit on the table. A small chuckle left his lips when you tugged at his jacket and he tilted his head.

“What, you don’t have a bed?” he taunted you and you grinned.

“The bed can wait,” you murmured as he dragged his fingertips up your bare legs to pull you closer to him, drawing a giggle from your lips before he kissed you again.

Chapter 24

[arrowflier]

Prompt is anything about Mickey acknowledging that Ian’s past of sexual abuse still affects him, maybe during the 13% debacle when Mickey’s being mad and tells the family at breakfast, Ian gets sad and quiet instead of defensive cause he knows he misspoke but he doesn’t know how to explain the feeling of like not being whole and Tami schools Mickey private bc she knows a little bit how Ian feels?

Content warning: references to child abuse/ sexual abuse of a minor

"Guess who I ran into on the L yesterday?" Ian asked as he made for the coffee machine.

"Dunno man," Mickey answered from behind him, skating a hand over his hip as he moved to take a seat at the table. "Why were you on the fuckin' L anyway, where'd you go when I was hangin' with Sandy?"

He sat down between Carl and Tami--it was a full house this morning--and stole a piece of bacon off Carl's plate even as he hunched over it protectively.

"Oh you know," Ian said, "just headed over to that weekly gay orgy at the rec center."

Mickey flipped him off, but Tami chortled next to him. She handed him another slice of bacon in apology--off Carl's plate, not her own--and went back to feeding Fred.

"Alright, funny man," Mickey said as he chewed, "so who'd you see there then?"

"Linda," Ian answered, unphased. He didn't seem to notice the way Mickey's chewing slowed, or the way Carl abruptly straightened and pushed back from the table.

"Yeah," Ian continued, "she was back for some kind of hearing? Apparently Kash's new boyfriend called the cops on him or something."

Ian took a long sip of coffee, then frowned as he lowered the mug.

"He, uh," Ian started, then stopped to take another drink. "Linda said he found some pictures?”

Mickey stilled.

“What kind of pictures?” he asked suspiciously.  Carl took that as his cue to abandon ship, shoving the rest of his breakfast over toward Mickey as he hightailed it out of the room.  Tami stayed, stuck with a babbling Fred in his high chair and completely lost as to why the room was suddenly so tense.

“Of me, I think,” Ian answered quietly, not meeting Mickey’s eyes.  “Or some other boyfriend maybe?  I don’t know.”

“Another boyfriend,” Mickey parroted, and Ian shrugged.

“Yeah,” he said.  “I mean, I guess.”  He set his mug on the counter, braced himself against the edge with both hands.  “I kinda feel bad for him, you know?” he added.  “It’s not like he asked for stuff like that, I just sent it.”

Mickey’s hand hit the table hard enough to shake the cutlery.

"The fuck did you say?" he asked flatly.

Ian didn't react, but Tami froze next to him with a fork halfway to Fred’s mouth. Mickey ignored her stare.

"You really just tell me you feel bad for that fucker?" Mickey continued, voice rising. "The guy that fuckin' molested you? The guy that shot me cause you dared to fuck someone your own fucking age?"

Ian was quiet. Too quiet, and it hurt to see the way he bit his lip and looked away, like he couldn't face it. Couldn't face the truth--couldn’t face Mickey, either.

"Mickey," Tami murmured, slowly lowering her fork to her plate with a muffled click, "maybe you shouldn't--"

"No," Mickey said firmly, cutting her off. "What I should do is track that fucker down and cut off his fucking dick, so he can’t touch another teenage kid for the rest of his goddamned life.”

“That’s what I should do,” he went on, ignoring the way Tami waved at him frantically under the table.  “But Ian here,” he said, “wouldn’t want that, would he?  Cause Ian thinks Kash loved him, and he won’t fuckin’ admit his first boyfriend was a disgusting-ass pedophilic bastard.”

Ian shoved himself back from the counter, and stormed from the kitchen.  A second later, the front door slammed, and Mickey collapsed back into his chair in resgination.

Before he could feel too sorry for himself, Tami intervened.

"Dude," Tami hissed next to him. Mickey looked over to see her scrunched face, her lip curled. "Are you really shaming him for that right now?"

“The fuck you know about it?” he muttered.  Even Fred seemed to be judging him, that chubby little face pouting, and Mickey didn’t like it one bit.

“I know enough,” Tami said, then sighed.

“Look,” she started slowly.  “I don’t know anything about this Kash guy or whatever, alright?  But it sounds like Ian was just a kid when they got involved.”

“Barely even old enough to do anything, probably,” Mickey groused.  “Bastard picked him up as soon as he fuckin’ saw him.”

“And it went on for a while?” Tami guessed, and raised her hands when Mickey looked at her suspiciously.

“Hey, I’m just getting my facts straight,” she defended.  “But if you ask me, Ian’s got more on his mind with this than whether or not his old boss is a good guy.”

“How the fuck would you know?” Mickey asked.  “He’s had plenty of fuckin’ time to think about this shit, he ought to hate that guy’s guts by now.”

Tami bit her lip, but persevered.

“I know,” she said softly, “because it took me even longer, okay?”

At Mickey’s curious glance, she expanded.

“There was this teacher,” she told him, not meeting his eyes.  “And he made me think I was special.”

Tami laughed, a short, sharp sound, and shook her head.

“He paid attention to me, is more like it,” she admitted.  “And I ate that shit right up, because God knows my dad didn’t back then.  And it never even occurred to me that what we had was wrong.”

She finally looked up.

“Then he brought his new girlfriend by,” she said.  “His new, teenage girlfriend.  And he said all the same things, and she ate it up, too.”

Mickey just watched her.

“So yeah, I get it,” she finished, tracing a scratch on the table with one finger.  “And what Ian needs right now?  Is not your fucking judgement.”

She stood abruptly, her chair screeching as it scraped back, and scooped Fred out of his seat.

"You should think about what he's going through right now," she said as she settled Fred on her hip. "Instead of how it makes you feel."

She moved toward the back door, opened it, then paused.

"Because being confronted with the truth isn't easy," she added. "And he might be a victim, but he doesn't want to be."

Then she was gone, the kitchen silent, just Mickey sitting there at the table with two rapidly cooling plates of eggs and bacon that weren't even his.

"Well, fuck," he said to himself. Then he levered himself up, and made for the front door

---

As it turned out, Ian hadn't gone far. As soon as Mickey opened the door, there he was: hunched over right there on the steps, head in his hands.

Mickey sat next to him without speaking. Ian shifted over to make room, but otherwise didn't acknowledge him.

"Hey," Mickey started hesitantly. Then he swallowed, wiped sweaty hands on his thighs, and tried again.

"I'm sorry."

Ian didn't bother to lift his head.

"For what?" he asked tiredly. "I mean, you were right."

"I was?" Mickey responded, then cleared his throat. "I was," he repeated more confidently, then, " but I still shouldn't have fucking said it."

Ian sighed, and straightened. "It's okay," he said, smiling weakly. "Kash was an asshole, I know he was. And I know it was wrong, now, but I just..."

Ian stopped, shook his head.

"Never mind," he muttered. "You wouldn't get it."

Mickey inched closer. He raised an arm to wrap around Ian's shoulders, and thought about the bright-eyed kid he fell for all those years ago, ignored by his family and utterly devoted to a man that should have known better.

"No, I wouldn't," he agreed softly, squeezing Ian's shoulders and stroking that hand down his arm in a gentle caress.

"But tell me anyway."