#i'm SURE there must be a way to do that but no one wants to tell me >:(

[alchemistc]

my heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

Tommy blinks awake and immediately wishes he hadn't. This is his third time waking up, and apparently they listened to him when he asked them to slow down his morphine drip because everything hurts.

The busted leg he remembers - they'd kept him awake long enough to explain that they'd do everything they could to keep it but... Well. No buts, in the end, just titanium and enough pins to make sure he'll never get through TSA quickly ever again. Thank fuck most of his flying he does on his own.

Christ, if he has to get recertified...

Fractured ribs, a punctured lung, three broken fingers but thank god his arms had survived relatively intact.

The bruising on his face screams before the rest of it does, which is just - it's silly, actually, that somewhere in his head he's thinking about how awful he must look. Of course he looks fucking awful, he survived a helicopter crash. Why would he look great? He should look as bad as he feels.

On a scale from 1 to Fuck Off he's very firmly toeing the line into Go Screw Yourself.

The knock startles him.

The startle wrenches something in his neck area, and Tommy groans through the pain. Shit. Screw his dad just that little bit more for providing the perfect genetics for a proclivity for addiction.

Evan.

He's standing at the door, looking apologetic, head ducked a little like he does when he either wants something, or thinks he's done something wrong. Puppy eyes, he'd heard Hen call it once, while she mimed barfing, because Tommy thought it was adorable.

He still thinks it's adorable.

Fuck.

"Hey," he says, in his Hospital Voice. (Tommy is new to this voice, but he's growing more used to it, now: third time awake and it's the third time Evan's been there. In a chair at his side, flirting with a nurse while he wrote on Tommy's chart, now perched in the doorframe looking... a bit grungy if Tommy's being honest. Like he hasn't slept in days. Like those are the same clothes Tommy first saw him in.

Evan dances in the door and it's the first time he's noticed that one of his arms is tucked behind his back. "If that's a bouquet you should know I'm allergic," Tommy says, and doesn't hate the way his voice sounds quite as much as he has in recent memory. He's almost managed to get back the ironic lilt.

Evan's smile widens. "You're lying, and besides, you can't be allergic to every flower. Are you allergic to the corpse flower?" He pauses. Narrows his eyes like he's heading Tommy off at the pass. "You can't say the smell is as bad as the allergies would be."

"I feel like a corpse flower," Tommy intones, and he wonders - is that - is this what - they're just not gonna talk about it? What he'd said, in the air, with half the public servants of the city listening in? Or the fact that Evan hasn't left this hospital in two days? Or whatever he's still hiding behind his back?

Evan steps into the room. Rolls his shoulders with a shit-eating grin. Brandishes the item he's been hiding - a stuffed chicken. There's something sticking to the end of one leg, and Tommy squints to try to make it out. Looks like -

"Bobby got it for you! He said you'd know what the knife was for."

Tommy groans, tips his chin against his pillow, groans again because the pain is radiating throughout his body. Evan steps closer.

"I really wish you'd at least let them give you the muscle relaxants," Evan murmurs, closer, so much closer. Hand on the bed, fingers lifted like he's thinking about squeezing Tommy's thigh, and god - god, he wants that. But they can't just - they're in this whole mess because they talk around shit instead of about it.

Evan sets the chicken on the table next to the bed. His smile is loose and light, but his eyes are worried.

"I'm still pissed they put me on a morphine drip that first day, Evan, it's in my chart not to -." Evan bridges the gap, distracting Tommy thoroughly - fingers soft and light, careful, sliding across his thigh and dangerously close to the crease of his groin. Even if he weren't in a hospital bed he's in way too much pain to even think of getting it up but it's compelling. It's distracting. Tommy never wants him to move his hand.

"Hey," he says, and Tommy blinks. Frowns. Drinks in the sight of Evan's plaintive head tilt and tries to breathe. He hasn't really been this lucid, before. "I have one more thing for you."

Tommy raises a brow. Clenches his jaw. Tries not to freak the fuck out when Evan reaches for the pocket of his likely rank flannel and pulls out a suspiciously small box. No. No, absolutely not, has he learned nothing from Tommy's multiple attempts to get him to slow down.

Evan pops the lid.

Tommy feels the hysterical laughter bubbling in his chest and tries to push it down because laughing right now would jostle so many fucking things and he can't -

"So. Um. I know we - I know we still need to - to sit down and, like. Talk. About things," Evan says, while Tommy stares at the metal-on-velvet. "A-and this isn't me asking for anything. I'm just..." He presses a fist to his eyes, rubs, fingers opening to rub at the scruff on his jaw. "So. I have a spare room. And you won't be able to manage stairs for a minute, and - and I have, like, so much PTO, Tommy, an insane amount of it, and I just thought. While you get your bearings..." Tommy watches him, still quiet. "It really sucked being on my own dealing with a bum leg. And - maybe - maybe we take some time to talk. Crack open that champagne once your doctor clears it."

Tommy stares. Tommy contemplates. Tommy sucks in a deep breath and swallows hard.

"You want me to sleep in the spare room?"

One of Evan's hands is still on his thigh. The other is still palming a house key. His grin is wry. "I would like nothing less, but I thought I'd offer."

Tommy's hand has been creeping steadily towards the one on his leg for a minute now. He makes the final effort, curls fingers around Evans wrist. "Please tell me your mattress is off the floor."

"There's even a top sheet."

Tommy feels his lip quirking. It had been an almost-argument, a generational gap they couldn't bridge, something so small and silly it hadn't seemed worth the time to fight about it when there were better things they could be doing with the bed. He wishes they'd fought about it. He hopes they have a thousand fights ahead of them.

Tommy releases the hand circling Evans wrist, palms the key. Evan beams.

"It's not exactly traditional, but, uh - you have the one watch you refuse to take off for anything, and I wasn't gonna make you like, a paper crane, so..."

"Traditi - Evan, what?"

His smile goes a little coy. "I know there's like, a break in there, or whatever, but - uh - happy anniversary."

Tommy wants to cry. He wants to grin until his lips hurt as much as the rest of him. He wants -

"Come down here and kiss me, you lunatic," Tommy says, and Evan grins as he obliges.

[inbabylontheywept]

Just a warning, this is pretty long:

So, the first weird thing about Mormonism is the degree to which it imagines eternity as being driven by bureaucratic processes. An example of this is the belief that people in the afterlife can and will receive the church's teachings and become full spiritual converts, but will not actually be allowed into full heaven until someone on Earth performs the full baptism ritual in a temple. There is a physical bureaucratic limiter beyond one's beliefs that must occur for conversion to "count." This also applies to things like marriages. You can be married on Earth, but the heavenly bureaucratic mechanism won't actually recognize your marriage until you, again, have someone perform the necessary temple ritual.

(There is this weird persistent feeling that God wants to help you, he just needs you to fill out the right forms.)

Those are relatively benign examples. In Nazi Germany, Helmuth Günther Hübener was both executed by the state and excommunicated by the church for distributing anti-Nazi pamphlets and listening to foreign radio broadcasts. He did nothing that anyone could consider violent in any way. Not that it would've mattered - fighting Nazis was a moral duty - but he literally just handed out pamphlets. When the war ended, he was formally restored as a member and given the same rituals more people receive by age 18. Which I suppose is good, but it always struck me as a much weirder approach than simply saying: No. The excommunication obviously never counted. God is not controlled by burueacracy. 10,000 Nazi Mormons can sign 10,000 documents stating that you are, in the eyes of God, no longer a Mormon, and your status will not change because God is the one guy in Germany not stuck following orders.

But that would have also required admitting that ultimately, excommunications are not in the church's control. They can sign as many papers as they want, but if those papers have to get approved by God, and you're pretty sure God won't sign them, they have no control over you. Ultimately, I find the best power pose against excommunication to be: No. I'm not. You don't get to decide who is a Mormon. God does. And God is still with me.

How does this tie the difficulty in leaving the church?

The Mormons take all this shit extremely seriously. They have enormous paper archives of member data, intended to last thousands of years, stored in (I think?) giant underground salt mines, with literally the most rigorous archival methods of any organization on the planet. They are genuinely trying to make a paperwork trail capable of lasting through the two-thousand years after Christ's return. They acually literally believe that eventually, everyone's full time job will be keeping track of everyone who ever lived, and fulfilling the paperwork needed for those people to return to heaven with their families intact. That's what the righteous will be doing for the two milleniums after Christ's return. Those poor bastards.

This is extremely important to them. That's what your file is for. It says who you are, who your parents are, what rites you have completed, and which you still need. They one day plan on having a file for everyone that ever lived. And when you leave the church through the formal process, part of what you're requesting is that they destroy your file.

They hate destroying your file, but they're required to by law if you request it. In the end it is your information, and they don't have a right to it, but they feel like they have a right to it because they're not evil they're just trying to save your stupid idiot soul, goshdarnit. So they fight like hell if you tell them to. It's not enough to just ask, and it frankly isn't even enough to ask while telling them that you know you have a legal right. You have to ask, with a lawyer present, because that way they know that they can and will be sued for noncomplianced. Then they do. Allegedly. I'm still not convinced that they don't just take your file and carry it into some very deep, very dark part of the salt mine with a lock that's designed to open after 200 years or something.

Legitimate *pro bono legal services* don’t exist without a good reason. In a few of the exmormon groups I’m in you’ll see regular posts saying stuff like “Look what my lawyer sent me today!” with a pic of their resignation confirmation letter from the church.

You know. Just stuff that a normal average church that is definitely not actually a cult would do. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

🙄

[lacyblades]

౨ৎ yeah, yeah, pornstar!gojo, and all... but what about pornstar!reader, and fan!gojo?

gojo is obsessed with everything you put out there. notifications blare, ensuring he is the first to see every post. his phone is always glued to his hand, your channel is his goddamn religion.

he ditches anyone, ducks into bathrooms, alleys, wherever to catch a glimpse of that sweet pussy. he even contemplates risking getting caught jerking off on a public tram, his strained pants a testament to his desperation. a crowded tram, mind you. he doesn't even care.

and, that michelin-star dinner? kicked out. again. because he can’t keep his hands off his phone, and his volume down. the head waiter gives him a look that could kill, and gojo just shrugs, already halfway through his next video.

he really is your biggest hype-man, and also your richest one. his tips? a goddamn tidal wave in the chat. every moan you make, every twitch of your hips, fuels his own private show. and, well, you've got to make it up to him somehow, right?

in return, you let him control your toys. you take it so well, he thinks, the highest setting of your lovense. that remote control? a shitty substitute for his own hands, really.

if a vibrator does this to you… he strokes himself, mimicking your rhythm, a frustrated, aching pulse, the image of your slick heat filling his mind. he wants to feel it, wants to hear you scream his name. you're gripping the sheets of the bed, head thrown back.

if just a little vibrator is doing this to you, he can't imagine how you'd react to his cock.

gojo's hand slides up and down his hard length, throbbing with arousal as he watches you moan.

"oh, fuck," you cry, "i— i'm gonna cum!" and, cum you do, as your hips buck, body tensing, and fluttering hole gushes liquid. he times his own release just seconds after, and it feels like the closest he'll ever get to you.

you've wrecked him, completely. he can't even have a girlfriend anymore, because he's always groaning your name during sex with them. it's the only way he can get off, now.

pictures and videos, that is. exclusive content, little bits and pieces of you — anything he can get, he'll have. you're the only thing he thinks about, you've turned him into a porn addict.

sleep is a war zone, gojo's brain replaying your every move until he is jerking off into his own hand, the sheets sticky and smelling faintly of his seed.

he fantasizes, raw and dirty, about burying his face between your legs, about the slick heat of your cunt, about the way you’d scream when he finally comes.

he wants to fill you, wants to hear you beg. gojo lies awake at night, his mind a whirlwind of your images, replaying old videos, memorizing every curve, every sound.

(and yeah, he has a fan account. pathetic? maybe. but he doesn't give a fuck. he has to spread the word, has to make sure everyone knows just how amazing you are. plus, he likes reading the comments. it makes him feel proud of you.)

gojo strokes his leaky dick at night, submitting into his fantasies of shoving your head into a pillow and dragging his sensitive tip across your slit, getting to release his load into your soaked walls.

but, at some point, god must finally be on his side, because ten minutes after your latest livestream, he is met with a dm from you — "how would u like to 2 mess with those controls in person <33"

after all those enormous tips he's sent your way, isn't it time for you to give him something extra?

[womanofwords]

Everybody's Favourite (Part 9)

Two days. Two days straight of you crying your eyes out and begging for your dad and your aunts and uncles. All efforts to get through to you were angrily refuted.

"Y/N, you can't keep pining over Penguin," Bruce said. "He had you kidnapped and was prepared to ask for a ransom."

"Oh, grow up! You didn't even notice I was gone! Hell, you avoided me when you did see me! So stop trying to take the moral high ground with me! Treat me the same way you all did when I was seven and leave me alone!"

"You don't have to be so defensive, baby bird!" Dick pleaded. "We're just trying to make up for lost time! We want to get to know you!"

"Don't call me baby bird! Only Penguin calls me bird things! You're copying him to make me like you, and I won't!" you snapped. "Leaving my room was a mistake, clearly. Goodbye." You rushed up the stairs, sobbing.

"I should have known that they wouldn't want my contact immediately," Bruce said. "I just didn't know how volatile they would be."

Alfred, now back from visiting his daughter, sighed. "Sir, I watched the . . . debacle unfold over in England. Please allow me to talk to Y/N," he pleaded. "We had a positive relationship."

"Of course. You'll get further than we did," Dick said.

Alfred knocked on your door and sighed. "Mx Y/N, your family is doing their best to express their remorse for their previous mistreatment. Please try to hear them out."

"They're going to forget, Alfred. They always do! They'll forget and I'll get left behind! Papa never forgot about me, and neither did my aunties and uncles. They were always so kind."

"Y/N, your aunties and uncles are criminals. Here, you are safe."

"No, I'm not! Damian's here and he's sicced Titus onto me for fun!" you pointed out. "How am I safe with him around?"

Tim appeared out of nowhere. "Well, if you really want to get away from the little hellion, then I'm your ticket out! You'll go on a walk with me to clear your head. It must be so claustrophobic in your bedroom. Put on some clothes and come outside with me. We could both do with the exercise."

You weighed up your options. Sure, you need a break from these obsessed nutcases, but it wasn't like Tim was going to be any different. This was most likely a ploy to get you to open up.

"Hey! Don't call me a hellion, Drake, especially in front of my only blood relative!" Damian was there in a heartbeat, katana in hand. The same katana that had cut you before. You slammed your door immediately.

"Nice going, prick! I almost had them!" Tim scolded.

"They're my blood relative. You have a family. Go and find it, if you even can."

"Go and find yours, brat." Tim and Damian began fist-fighting in front of your door, and you closed your door with a quickness.

(PAUSE)

The next day, Stephanie stole their idea and went for a walk with you. "You know, I know what it's like to be disappointed in my father," she said. "You do know who my father is, don't you, Y/N?"

"No." You shook your head. "You never told me."

"Ah." Stephanie chuckled, embarrassed. "Well, my father's name is Arthur Brown, better known as Cluemaster. He's one of the villains Batman faces."

"So, your dad's a bad guy, too?" you asked. "Was he nice to you like Penguin is to me?"

"No, honey," Stephanie said, heart breaking. "Villains aren't nice to anybody, including their daughters. Nobody's safe from them."

"That's not true! Penguin was nice to me! He helped me make a penguin-themed ice cream place! And then Scarecrow watched cartoons with me, and Bane did workout sessions with me, and-"

"Y/N, don't you get it? Penguin lied to you!" Stephanie grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you. "You're not going back there, mark my words!"

"But I want to!"

"Leave them alone!" a passerby yelled. "We all know what you're like, you know! All Waynes are heartless! Screw you!"

"You don't know anything about me or Y/N!" Stephanie shouted back.

"We know none of you gave a damn when they got kidnapped! How terrible do you have to be for a kidnapper to be kinder than you guys?"

People started to gather at the commotion as Stephanie verbally battled the mob. She put herself between you and them, holding your hand tightly in the hopes that it reassured you.

It didn't.

"Deadbeats!"

"Abusers!"

"You guys are literally worse than the Joker! Here, have a Joker shake!" A purple shake flew through the air towards Stephanie's face from the hand of an angry protester. Stephanie stepped back just in time.

You, however, got hit in the face by a blast of blueberries and blackberries, everything going silent. You could have heard a pin drop as you wiped the shake off your face. They were waiting for you to do something, anything.

"Did I do something wrong?" you ask the crowd, eyes watering. "Why does everyone in Gotham hate me?"

Everyone broke out into fights. Some attacked the pitcher of the drink, others stayed focused on Stephanie.

"How about I call the police to take us home, Y/N?" Stephanie suggested. "It's scary out here."

"OK," you agreed. "I don't like being outside any more."

(PAUSE)

"Are you kidding me, Steph? You let Y/N get hit in the face by a random citizen's drink?" Barbara shoved that day's edition of Gotham Times into Stephanie's face. The picture was of you drenched in drink while Stephanie was behind you (not a good look), while a headline screamed at them.

Wayne Kid Uses Neglected Sibling As Human Shield

"So much progress . . . gone," Dick sighed.

"How are they supposed to trust us when we can't protect them?" Damian growled. "You're ruining my chances of bonding time with my only biological sibling!"

"You do that all on your own," Dick muttered.

The Wayne family wasn't the only one with flaring tempers. Over at the Iceberg Lounge, Penguin crumpled up an identical copy of the Gotham Times in anger.

"It hasn't even been a full week, and they're already allowing my little bird to be in harm's way," he growled. "Nobody hurts my little dove."

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9 <- You are here

Part 10

Part 11

Taglist: @tinybrie, @enchantingarcadecreation, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @sh4rk-k1d, @prorpy, @angelicbear, @sulleha, @sirenetheblogger, @omgfangirlland, @heather-hutchcroft, @wannaflyaway, @jaybunsblog, @sugarrush-blush, @redkarmakai

[sai-int]

hihi i recently discovered your blog and i am in love with you writing!! it’s so beautiful and i wish i could wallpaper it to the insides of the brain tehe i’m super interested to see how you’d write daddy kink with either price or simon (or whoever else you see most fit)! i wanted to keep this req general/basic so you could really do anything you want with it but here are some dynamics/au’s/etc. that i find enjoyable, in general, in case it sparks anything: soft dom, leashes/crawling, wild west au (bonus points for boot riding 🫣), boxer au, butcher!char x florist!reader, and ballerina!reader. (sorry felt like that list was all over the place LOL.)

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! And ooooou anon. The way I evilly rubbed my hands together when I read this... Also, if you're looking for price and boot riding, look no further.

Here's some butcher!simon x fem!florist!reader, plus a sprinkle of softdom!simon w a daddy kink

The bell over the shop door chimes, delicate and bright—a sound far too gentle for the man who steps inside. Simon's too big for a place like this, too heavy with the scent of blood and metal. The air, thick with lavender and roses, should soften him—but instead, he makes the space feel smaller, like the walls close in just for him.

You barely look up from the bouquet in your hands, carefully tying off a bundle of peonies. "You're late," you murmur, but there's no real scolding behind it, just soft acknowledgment.

Simon grunts, gently shutting the door behind him. His boots hit the wooden floor with their usual weight as he steps closer, watching you with an unreadable, steady gaze. "Had a long day," he mutters. "Some tosser ordered a full side o' beef last minute. Took me the better part o' the afternoon t'quarter it."

You frown, already wiping your hands on your apron, instinctively stepping toward him. "Oh, Si," you hum, reaching to brush your fingers over his forearm. "That sounds awful. You must be exhausted."

His fingers twitch, his gaze dropping to where your soft hand press against his skin. You always touch him so freely, without hesitation—like he wasn't too big, too rough, too covered in things you had no business being near.

Simon exhales, his shoulders shifting. "I can handle it."

"I know you can," you say, voice soft, warm. "Doesn't mean you should have to."

That makes him pause. He tilts his head, watching you carefully, his hands already finding their place at your waist, large and warm. You fit against him so easily, so naturally, like you belong right there.

Your eyes flick downward, catching the faint streak of something crimson near his elbow.

"Simon." You frown, taking his wrist between your hands, your delicate fingers turning it slightly. "You've still got—"

"Blood," he supplies flatly.

You swallow, your fingers smoothing gently over the stain. "You should've washed up more before coming here."

His lips twitch. "Didn't want t'keep y'waiting, dollface."

Your heart squeezes at that, warmth blooming in your chest. He's never the type to say much, but little things like this—small, quiet acts of care—spoke louder than words ever could.

You wrap your arms around him, looping them around his middle, pressing yourself against his broad chest. He's solid as ever, warm as always. You hold him tightly, sighing against the fabric of his shirt.

"You take such good care of me, you know that?"

His hands flex on your waist, his fingers spreading wide, like he's trying to feel all of you at once.

"Yeah?' His voice drops to something lower, something rougher.

You nod, rubbing your cheek lightly against his chest. "Mhm. You always make sure I'm safe— always there for me." You smile softly against him, letting yourself sink into his warmth. "So good to me."

His arms tighten around you, pressing you firmly against him, one hand trailing up your back, fingers tangling briefly in the little bow of your apron. "Course I am," he mutters, his voice thick with something deeper, heavier. "Gotta look after what’s mine, yeah?"

That makes your stomach flutter, your breath hitch.

Your voice softens, warmer, something meant just for him. "That's why I love being yours," you breath, your breath warm against his skin. You let the words linger, let them settle between you, before you add, in a whisper full of quiet, saccharine affection—

"Daddy."

Simon tenses in your hold, a sharp inhale cutting through the air. His hands tightens at your waist, fingers digging in, just shy of rough.

Posessive

"Fuck, dove" he rasps, voice strained. Then, in a rough whisper, like he was barely holding himself together— "Right here? In the middle of y'shop?"

You giggle, shaking your head. "No, not here," you hum, still teasing, still warm against him. "But I get off in an hour."

His grip stayed firm, his nose brushing against your temple, his voice dropping even lower.

"I could get you off in less."

Your mouth falls slack in shock before you huff, swatting at his arm. "Si!"

He chuckles, smug as ever, his grip on you unrelenting. "What?" His lips ghost the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Just sayin'"

You swat at him again, though it was weaker this time, warmth blooming in your chest, your stomach twisting with anticipation.

Simon leans back slightly, reaching into his front pocket to pull out a folded bill. With a casual ease, he slips it between his fingers, glancing down your shirt, his height making it effortless, before tucking the bill into your bra.

"F'the flowers," he said, voice rich with amusement. "Bring home somethin' nice, yeah? Something' soft."

His gaze drops to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes, dark and unreadable. "Not everything I touch has to bleed." He gently presses his lips to yours, savoring the taste of you until he can get you to himself at home.

And with that, he heads home, leaving you warm, breathless, and counting down every second until you can lock up for the night and let him keep his promise.

[prettywritergirl2]

Your last assignment

MDNI !!!

summary: Professor!Spencer Reid x f!reader (student) smut, slight age gap because it's a college setting but nothing illegal

contents: teasing, praise, fingering, slight edging (f!recieving), slight bondage (f!recieving), p in v (unprotected), creampie, false sympathy

a/n: this is heavily inspired by my crush on my geography teacher lmfao

word count: 1.7k

Professor!Spencer Reid who pays a whole lot of attention to you in class. He's passionate about his subject, of course, and wants to make sure everyone understands it, but his eyes seem to linger on you for just a second longer when he asks questions to the class.

"Got it?" You swear he's looking right at you. You can almost feel his eyes move down from your neatly styled hair, down the open top buttons of your shirt, and trace your exposed legs. You readjust your position in your seat, trying to make the feeling in the bottom of your stomach disappear, and his gaze seems to lock onto your thighs. He clears his throat and looks away, continuing with his lesson.

Maybe you were just being delusional. After all, you did have little crush on him. Right as you were packing up your laptop and books, you hear his voice again. "Please stay after class, I have a question about your last assignment."

He must be talking to somebody else, you think, there's absolutely no way he wants to see me. But there he is, standing at the door, saying absent-minded goodbyes to the students as they leave the classroom, looking directly into your eyes.

Professor!Spencer Reid sits down at his desk as you approach him. You're not really sure how to act, as you'd never spoken to him one-on-one before. Whatever, you think, it's probably nothing.

"You... had a question about my assignment, sir?" You notice a tensing in his shoulders as the final word rolls off your tongue.

"No." You tilt your head in confusion.

"So why did you ask to see me?"

"Do you think it's appropriate to be turned on during class, miss?" Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. You're wishing for the earth to open up and swallow you whole when he continues the conversation.

"Don't worry, I'm sure nobody else noticed. Back at the FBI, my job was literally to notice everything. Those skills don't just go away, you know?"

You don't know what to do with yourself other than to nod your head slightly, never looking up from your hands as you fidget with the hem of your plaid skirt.

His gaze settles on your hands, your skirt, and it continues roaming your body. You can't really tell if it's attraction or just behavioral analysis, until he speaks again.

"It's nothing to be nervous about, attraction is a natural human instinct. If it makes you feel better, I feel very attracted to you right now." He says it so matter-of-factly that you think it must be some kind of joke, your eyes shoot up to look at him and you simply can't help but laugh at the idea. He's probably just trying to ease your very apparent embarrassment.

Professor!Spencer Reid stands and walks towards you. He puts his hands onto the desk you're leaning against, pinning you to it. He notices you blushing and grins, looking down at you.

"How about this, sweetheart," your heart nearly explodes at the nickname, "I'll give you what you need, if you promise to stop distracting me during class. How's that sound?"

Need is an understatement for how you feel about this man. You nod your head once again, trying so so hard to keep eye contact.

"Use your words, pretty girl, come on." He doesn't move an inch, doesn't look away, doesn't say anything else.

"I promise, Mr. Reid." You look up at him and bite your lip. It feels like you're going to burn to death if he doesn't touch you soon.

"Oh fuck." He breathes out before wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing you. Softly at first, but it quickly turns into both of you letting out desperate breaths and groans as you tug at each other's clothes.

Professor!Spencer Reid who really takes his time pulling your panties down your legs, ignoring your whimpers and moans. He traces your thigh with his fingertips, slowing down when he gets closer to your pussy.

"Please, sir, I can't take it anymore–" You trail off when he finally brushes over your clit.

"I see you like me a lot, hm?" He teases as he rubs your clit in slow circles. You can't do much more than moan in response, nearly screaming when he pushes two fingers inside you.

He fingers you slowly, leaving bite marks and hickeys down your neck and chest. You're fairly certain this is what heaven feels like as you feel your orgasm building in your stomach.

Professor!Spencer Reid who pulls his fingers out right when you were about to cum, licking them clean before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Aww it hurts, doesn't it? My poor girl." He pouts as you look for some type of friction on the smooth wood of his desk. You were so close, and now he's putting on this sympathy act as if it isn't his fault.

"Don't worry angel, I'll let you cum soon." He breathes out as he takes off his belt and ties it around your wrists in a swift movement.

It feels like minutes go by before he finally pushes his cock inside you and fuck, you're not sure this is going to last very long.

He groans out praises and swear words as he fucks you hard and slow. He lets go of the belt with one hand before moving it down between your legs, and when his thumb starts to circle your swollen clit, you feel like you're about to fall apart.

Professor!Spencer Reid who notices the way you tighten around him as your moans get louder. His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he fucking loves it.

"Fuck, baby, you're doing so good, let me feel you cum on my cock." How he's able to form a coherent sentence is beyond you. You can barely process his words when you finally reach your orgasm.

He cums too, not long after you, and the lust in his eyes almost increases as he watches his cum drip out of your still wet cunt.

He helps you get cleaned up and pull your underwear back up your shaky legs. You look up at him again through watery eyes, and he plants a gentle kiss on your lips.

"I don't think we're quite clear on that assignment yet. See me after my office hours on Monday?"

Your voice comes out coarse when you respond. "Mhm, I'll be there for sure."

[ms-demeanor]

So the thing with my job is that we're three companies in a trenchcoat. What happened is that a couple of very wealthy guys who used to work in tech decided they were going to buy up companies and mash them together into a bigger company, which is a not-uncommon way to grow MSPs.

We're going to call the first company the Fluffy Bunnies. They were a very stable, white-glove-service MSP with 10 employees serving 30 high-end clients in San Francisco. They have existed for 16 years but got bought out two years ago.

The second company are the Scrappy Mutts. They were acquired about a year ago. They were a moderately stable group handling around 90 medium and small clients in orange county and san diego, they had 7 employees.

The third company, my company, are the Strangled Bats, and were acquired seven months ago. We were a sinking ship with 5 employees handling 185 medium and small clients and one very big client in Los Angeles.

I'm going to call our current company Frankenstein Inc (FI).

All but two of the Scrappy Mutts have left FI. So when we are talking about people who are "familiar" with the 90 clients from that group, it is one tech and one office admin. We have lost a few clients from that group because when FI took over, the service level changed (turns out the previous owner was providing a lot of free services and free computers, which FI will not and should not do).

All but one of the level three techs from the Fluffy Bunnies have left FI. We have several level two techs from the Fluffy Bunnies still on the team, and they make our white-glove, tier-1 san francisco clients feel very well cared for but there's no real account management going on. We have several big clients from this group who are shaky.

Nobody from the Strangled Bats has bounced. None of our clients have bounced. Gary not only trained us to suffer, he trained our clients to actually pay for their services.

Initially, one of the owner/investors of FI was the CEO. When he brought on the Fluffy Bunnies, he told them they were going to be the leadership and guidance for the company. He told them how he wanted the finances handled and set rules for some procedures. When FI merged the Fluffy Bunnies and the Scrappy Mutts, the Fluffy Bunny management had to scramble to figure out how to distribute workload when they quadrupled the size of their customer base and had to figure out how to merge contracts from the Scrappy Mutt clients to their system. This did not go well.

Because that didn't go well, the CEO hired a Professional Services VP and later a Project Manager. The PS VP got fired about a month after the Strangled Bats came onboard, and the Project Manager had only been there for a month at that point.

About a month after his VP was fired, the project manager looked at what a tire fire the acquisition of the Scrappy Mutts and the Strangled Bats was, and started organizing an acquisition process that we are putting in place for the next acquisition, because the owner/investors very much want to keep acquiring other companies.

Since the Strangled Bats have come onboard, ticket distribution has been shot to shit and MOST clients are unhappy with how we're meeting SLAs.

Because of this, the owner/CEO hired two outside execs, one of whom is a CEO with fortune 100 experience to replace him. These two execs have now been at the company long enough to flip on a lightswitch and see the cockroaches scrambling around.

The Fluffy Bunnies are middle management. They want things to move smoothly and customers to be happy. They are more concerned with service outcomes and dropping everything to make clients happy than they are with stability. The Fluffy Bunny response to the cockroaches is to say "yes that is quite unpleasant but we must overlook that for the moment to make sure our customers feel seen." The Scrappy Mutt reaction to the cockroaches is to go "yes, those do seem to be squirmy things, but I am currently chasing this tennis ball (being run ragged by being the only one who really knows 90 clients)". The Strangled Bat response is "yeah okay I eat cockroaches I guess I can grab those and do everything else" because we have been forced to do exactly that.

I thought I was signing on to a company where I'd get to be a Fluffy Bunny or at least a Scrappy Mutt. I am tired of being a Strangled Bat. But if I can't be a Fluffy Bunny then I can at least take care of the cockroaches because the Fluffy Bunnies are pretending they aren't there and they're busy chewing through our cables.

The new exec team doesn't want us to be fluffy bunnies or scrappy mutts or strangled bats working together at Frankenstein Inc, they want us to be normal human employees of a normal human company that is one company with one set of standards and one way of doing things instead of three companies in a trenchcoat. They are in the process of putting these standards into place, and the friction I am experiencing comes from techs on the ground chafing against change, but it ALSO comes from Fluffy Bunny management.

We have one fluffy bunny who is very hesitant to make decisive action and who doesn't want to bother the CEO. The issue is that they are the main interface with the CEO and I report directly to this person. The CEO is my grandboss and if I reach out to him directly I'm overstepping. This fluffy bunny is a yes-man who gets things done by working 70-80 hours a week instead of escalating or delegating and is unlikely to initiate change when it comes to things like "we need to have a drastic reassessment of how we document the hardware we've sold." The OTHER fluffy bunny manager is supposed to be doing service assignments and wants to be a manager, but does not like being told to act more professional, or working one weekend a month, and when you ask this manager for help the response you get is frequently "I don't care" or "ask the other bunny." I don't report directly to this person, but they have oversight over my tickets and can assign me to projects.

I don't want my outlook on the new execs to be too rosy, but it's such a tremendous relief that other people can see the cockroaches and understand that they need to be addressed. I do genuinely believe that the new execs are looking to promote based on how the team responds to the changes they're implementing, and how people tackle the issues that are coming to light, but they're still business dudes in a business setting and there's every possibility that I could work like crazy until my next review and get a "Great Job" sticker and a cost of living raise (which, hey, still better than Gary, but not good enough to set myself on fire for). Given that these guys have been the only ones to put their money where their mouth is in regard to my employment situation (new CEO is why I got my raise, and because I was making so little before it's still not a huge dollar amount but it was a 15% raise which is not nothing) I'm inclined to trust them at least a little. Buuuuuuut I'm also definitely documenting all the shit that I'm doing and I'm maybe also starting a separate document of when I needed something from fluffy bunny management and ran into a brick wall, because the exec team is very firm that i need to escalate through the bunnies.

I will say, if there's anything on our side, it's inertia. Changing MSPs is a huge giant miserable headache so it takes a lot for a customer to bail on us and we do have a solid customer base. Now we just need to make sure none of their goddamned servers implode because the fucking fluffy bunnies configured RAID 5 with no spares because "my fucking server blew up and you didn't have any plan in place to keep me up and running" is absolutely a reason that companies will drop MSPs.

_____________________

The whole server drive situation was because I was trying to wrangle bunnies; it fell into my lap before my pay raise and title change and after that (and the raid 5 panic) I couldn't get bunnies to escalate it or take it seriously and had to start dragging bats into the mix. The CEO has been very clear that this shit is a cockroach and needs to get handled but I'm not supposed to go around my bunny manager to alert him to cockroaches. My bunny manager's response to the fact that the server was RAID 10 (which was checked and confirmed by a bat) was "Wow that's so funny, I wonder why the system was reporting it wrong in the first place? That's some pressure off, huh?" and that's why I was losing my shit yesterday.

[melaninfury]

Astrology Harsh Opinions

Back with a vengeance. Thank you 😊

Please don’t take this as astrological facts. These are more my experience and perspective. The whole chart and aspects must also be considered.

It must be gods gift to every Scorpio rising with Pluto in the 1st to seem very devoted to self preservation and just...self. Can be very self absorbed when the power is in their hands. With a Taurus descendant they have stability/peace in some relationships but I notice these people have a thrill for domination and power dynamics but in subtle ways that reflect back to how they want to feel about themselves, enough said.

If your parents are a Capricorn moons, their wounds and detachment from their mother will translate to how they raise and treat you. While they may not hate you or want to treat you with that same coldness but they can't help but resonate with the downright coldness they can carry into parenthood. Some.....some.

For independent souls if your MC (10th house) is in an innovative and independent sign do not and I repeat DO NOT tell your plans or all your ideas to somebody with a moon or malefic planet on your MC. They will control or have alot to say about how you approach and move through your career and navigate life on the outside. They can hinder you or make an emotional attachment regarding your improvement/advancement. Partnerships are great make sure yours can be though.

There is nothing more judgmental and ever questioning then a gemini moon, venus or stellium. Guaranteed aways have something to say.

If your coworkers have personal placements in your 4th, 8th, 12th and 10th. Trust they will be all up in your business, watch your mouth around them. They will talk and spread your business. (honorable mention the 7th house)

You will find a venus on someones ascendant or in their 12th can activate their jealousy towards you and the people you love and give your attention to outside of them. Especially if you surpass the idealism or idea they wanted you to be.

Don't be a fool mars conjunct mercury or these planets in the 7th, YOU know and you need to follow you intuition towards your people (soul family), business and fulfillment. Move away from them people that come against or attempt to hijack your wavelength. FUCK THEM PEOPLE.

Its true if you have 7th and 12th house placements you have hidden enemies/sneaky enemies....enemies of all kinds nonetheless. If this energy is connected to your 1st, 10th, 4th or 9th house i'm telling you now, you have hidden enemies that are coming from alot of places some family, friends or people around you (i.e coworkers). They seek to stop, control or transform you for their own benefit and from their own place of shadow.

Again if your parents are Capricorn moons I just want to start a support group for you and me so we can discuss all of our generational trauma and anger together, fully engage with the fact that your parents can do anything but love you properly.

If your a Sagittarius moon, Laugh...laugh as you cry its gods way of giving you proper antidepressants I do not care what your provider says....jkjk lets all get a therapist and shadow work :).

I personally think telling people to fuck off is the best way to protect yourself. Its the right way and the only way because if i don't get it then its not real. Make it make sense or shut up because I don't have the energy. The math has to fucking math thank you - a tired virgo mercury

I think having karmic synastry or inherited placements from family is a fucking curse. If this lady didn't fair well with her moon mercury and venus why the fuck would you give me that one for her to screw me retrograde...? HELLO god were you listening while I was crying and screaming....!?!?

One thing I fucking hate is being told what to do - sincerely a sag moon. Especially when you fucked it over 3 or 4 fucking times... now your trying to "teach" me something. Play with stop signs and red lights for me respectfully.

If your mars is conjunct a planet listen to your anger and the source, use it to your advantage or to calm down. If its a soft planet like venus, use pleasurable and fun ways to activate and express your needs. If its moon find comfort in taking action to protect and build your needs and home for yourself. If its mercury well, just try to calm down and find ways not to punch people, watch how and what you say because it makes sense why your angry with everyone but yourself. Use it to talk yourself down or scream or perceive a smarter person idk (sorry y'all i'm pissed)

Love yourself well and protectively Venus in the 8th, its precious there and its hard to fully recover from deep seated pain it changes the foundation of how you love or who. Which may be a good or bad thing.

Bump people and their passive aggressive lack of realness and balls to say I either do or don't like you 11 house placements (especially malefic). Cut em off loose ends that aren't productive for how you see yourself and reputation. CUT them off don't just think about it.

Saturn or Mars in the 4th is childhood trauma, the type depends on the connections and aspects to the houses.

A mars in scorpio is gonna do what they wanna do for them every time, your in the way of what they want or who they want...they will attempt to get you gone in secret or in public, I don't make the rules.

Neptune can show where you should or can spiritually protect your mind, body and spirit. I.E Scorpio Neptune in the 9th can use religious ideology or practices to protect or spiritually cleanse. Leverage your spiritual planet. Especially because of its need for strong spiritual hygiene. Sometimes applying the meaning to the energy of the planet can help you learn to define your spiritual practice.

Saturn squaring moon or mercury is emotional/mental pain, it can definitely show hardships involving perception and internalization in your environment. These are planets that rule over socialization and understanding (how we learn to understand the world around us), these are the main planets that show us and guide us on "how". Even if its not real, for example Saturn in the 4th/aspecting moon or mercury allows you to perceive through a lens of struggle or hardships that haunt them, as they grow older or reflect in lessons of life. Growing up in poverty effects how we see or want our inner world and homes to appear after we've endured childhood, this is seen through maturing the moon or saturn/moon hard aspects. Saturn/mercury aspects show the dent in expression and mental clarity that can often be inherited by a lack of stable environment or words being affirmed, later healed through journaling, therapy and expressing the source of what was never said.

If you are a Pisces, Scorpio, Capricorn or Aquarius. Learn to love yourself and who you are (not to say others shouldn't), my dual ruled signs tend to receive a lot more hardships being ruled by malefic and transformative energies. The rising can also show what your parents wanted for or of you, which under these signs can be a weight of something that you never asked or wanted. It can become a burden but allow it to show your strength. Focus on mastering and clarifying who you are to YOU before you find yourself in a job, label, home or relationship that may not be the best but the endurance before the best.

If you are a 9th moon or venus, move. If family and circumstance is bothering you MOVE, even if you cant leave forever or stay away forever. Take the time to learn when to move with the optimism of the heart. Because you may not feel in tune with yourself unless you find what your looking for elsewhere. Elsewhere is usually not with the past and people from the past.

One of the hardest placements to me is Saturn,Chiron, Neptune in the 11th. I truly feel sad when I think about this one, remedy or not who you trust isn't much up to you. Who really is there that you haven’t chosen? This to me is a cosmic rejection. You are not for everybody and everybody isn't for you. Don't easily trust or share because your heart will harden if you let it dealing with that type of public, communal or social rejection. Especially if your a social sign like libra, gemini or sagittarius, etc. Just be careful because it can be painful. Its protection there and ideas, innovative yet strong energy but it can be very lonely.

ALL signs should love themselves and take it easy. Grow up and live strong. Never forget who you are and what you live for.

©️ All Rights Reserved @melaninfury

[msilverstar]

transcription:

FOREWORD: BUCKY BARNES (by Sebastian Stan, Spring 2025)

I remember standing up on a ladder, sweating, in the middle of a take on a hot day in Palmdale, California, on the set of The Apparition. They were doing a camera reload, I think, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out and looked at it: "Unknown caller I.D." "That can never be important," I thought. I let it go to voicemail.

We got the take and, in fact, continued to shoot for another few hours until, finally, I remembered, "Oh right, I had a voicemail." | took out my phone and brought it to my ear, expecting a telemarketer, only to hear, "Hey, it's Kevin. From Marvel. We'd love for you to do Bucky. If you're up for it. Give a call back." My heart stopped. My knees got weak. No way. Impossible. Earlier that day, someone had played a prank on me, stating, "It's April 1st! APRIL FOOLS' DAY!" Was this a joke or the real Kevin Feige?

It's an understatement to say my life changed that day: April 1, 2010. In three months' time, I was to go to London and start filming Marvel Studios Captain America: The First Avenger as Bucky Barnes.

It's insane for me to admit I didn't know anything about good old James Buchanan Barnes before my Captain America screen tests - which were for Steve Rogers, not even Bucky Barnes. I just didn't grow up with comic books, but I immediately had to dive in. I had a lot of catching up to do - including reading the convention-breaking series by Ed Brubaker and Steve Epting that revived Joe Simon and Jack Kirby's long-dead creation and started his journey as the Winter Soldier. Now, fifteen years later, I'm here trying to impart some wisdom. Life is crazy. I've never known it any other way. And neither has Bucky.

I think the thing I've loved most about Bucky all these years is that he always keeps me guessing, in one way or another. Every time I think I have him figured out, he keeps surprising me. Sometimes, I don't know what he's going to do next. What he wants from this life next or if he even knows - like most of us, I guess. Part of the reason is that he never really had a choice. I always felt that, at the end of the day, he enrolled in the Army back in the '40s mainly to protect his best friend, Steve - to go on with him and fight the good fight and keep an eye on him, make sure he didn't get hurt. After all, Steve kind of was the only family he ever had. At least, it felt that way to me.

Bucky was always a real human being to me. A young man trying to figure out his purpose - and before he could, he was captured, brainwashed and turned into a fighting machine. A Manchurian candidate, to some extent. Held against his will. Given a new identity. And for the wrong team. Bucky Barnes is all of us. And that's why Pretty intense for a comic book if you ask me. And yet real. I've never questioned why so many people related to Bucky or why so many former soldiers approached me about him, saying, "I know what he went through..." But I just knew he was real. People connected to him in a deep, profound way.

As we know, Bucky eventually regains his memory and thus all his "sins" along with it, leaving him more lost than ever and full of guilt and shame. How does he go on? How does he accept his past?

I think, for me, this was always incredible to explore, because this is a very real thing. It's human. We all must do this in life - confront our past - and some are braver than others, while others fight and run from it. But this struggle to embrace the past and move forward is something I think has always rang true about Bucky, and it's also something many people understood.

Without a doubt, he is one of the most fascinating characters I've ever played. Alongside him for fifteen years, I have met life as best as I could and questioned life as much as I could - and I feel we have grown together as a result. He's my brother, in a way. The brother I never had. And he's taught me a lot.

Bucky Barnes is all of us, and that's why he will always live on. He understood that the only way out is by going back in and truly confronting yourself. By doing so, he achieved his freedom. The freedom he lost back in the '40s. I could go on and on because he fascinates me, and I feel so blessed to have been given the chance to play him. I'm so grateful for that day: April 1, 2010. It changed my life. Thank you, Kevin.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER [MARVEL PREMIER COLLECTION] (Amazon link) by Ed Brubaker. Features an exclusive foreword by Academy Award-Nominated actor Sebastian Stan

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER [MARVEL PREMIER COLLECTION] by Ed Brubaker Features an exclusive foreword by Academy Award-Nominated actor Sebastian Stan

[hedwig221b]

Hi, If it's not a bother, could you recommend me some sterel fics with void stiles at some point in the fic? Please and thank you ❤️

Hello! Hope you like these ones!

Shadow and Flame by pixieblade

"Get. Away. From. Him.” The teen said harshly. Derek watched bemusedly as Stiles stalked across the loft. His wooden bat dragging along behind him. It made a scratchthumpscrape sound that was almost mesmerizing. Alternative nogitsune/darach meeting. Pre-slash Sterek.

Unexpected Results by pixieblade

What do you do when the people you are supposed to trust, betray you in the worst possible way? What would you do if someone offered you a way out?

Full and Void

Stiles could be meek, sure. In Derek’s arms, softened under the touch, pinned under his weight. He allowed himself to relax only in Derek’s sole presence. Stiles could also look meek. Small, scared. Let the enemies think he was hiding in his mate’s shadow. After all, no one would stop to think that the shadow could ever be dangerous.

Emerald Eyed Mystery by QueenOfAngst21

It's been two months but the Void won't go away. With his brother turning against him and with no where else to turn, Stiles looks to the place he least expected. If Beacon Hills is destroying him then when better to run away then at 1am on a Thursday. Three years later, with the fate of Supernatural world on their shoulders they must return but Stiles isn't defenceless anymore. He's an Alpha Mate and his eyes aren't normal; they are emerald.

Words Alone by SnowshadowAO3

Derek gets the first text message two months after he leaves Beacon Hills. He stares at it for a long time without actually opening it up, trying to figure out why Stiles would be texting him at all. Things start fitting together in Derek’s mind: his dreams, the door he sees Stiles enter, the loss of memory. Stiles’ body, his mind, are no longer just his. Something is sharing it, controlling him. Derek doesn’t know what it is yet, but he’s damn well going to find out. In which the Nogitsune ordeal brings Derek running back to Beacon Hills and, in the end, to Stiles.

Voice of Rage and Ruin by Qayin

Derek is hired as a bodyguard to this kid, Stiles. And the thing is, Stiles seems completely harmless, but everyone keeps telling Derek how he needs to be careful. Stiles is a nogitsune, a human possessed by a powerful deity of chaos and void, and not only does other people want him for his power, but he could potentially hurt others; and then it’s Derek’s job to protect those people — from his client.

Echo of the Void by MissAnnThropic

Post season 3B. After defeating the nogitsune, Stiles takes steps to ensure the demon fox can never possess him again. When things don’t go according to plan, Scott calls Derek to come try and calm Stiles down.

Ready or Not by spaceprincessem

Ready or not here I come “Is it him?” The man whispered to the woman standing next to him, a gleeful smile on his face. “Is that-” “Void?” Stiles asked. Derek took a shuddering breath. Stiles no longer sounded broken or pleading. His tone was cold, cruel, calculating. “Void.” The woman repeated with a small nod of her head. Stiles' smirk widened now, “That’s what you wanted, right?”

i'm here in search of your glory by EvanesDust, spaceprincessem

And standing there, in the dim light of the office was the all powerful emissary whose name had been whispered across the country. The one who could move mountains and part oceans. The one they all called Void. Standing there was Stiles fucking Stilinski. There were so many things Derek wanted to say - needed to say - and Stiles arched an eyebrow, like he was waiting, like he fucking knew. Derek opened his mouth, but the only thing that came out was, “Are you fucking kidding me.”

Together Again by Firebull

When Scott pushed Stiles out of the pack, he unwittingly unleashes the Nogitsune once more. Not that it lets him live long enough to tell anyone about it. Too bad really, because it has plans for a certain werewolf currently living in Mexico.

We are the greatest pretenders by heyshalina, marshmallowfluff

(How am I gonna get myself back home?) Derek wishes Scott wasn't such a failure of an alpha, that he had noticed the aura of darkness around Stiles before Derek had. Maybe then, it would be Scott now, staring into Stiles' empty eyes, at his twisted smile, faced with the prospect of killing him. "You know, I never wanted to be anything other than human."

Other fic recs: angsty fics | possessive Derek | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles + pt2 | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | creature!Stiles + pt2 | oblivious!Stiles | bad friend Scott | pack mom!Stiles | unrequited love | werewolf!Stiles | dark sterek | single parent!Stiles | feral Derek | arranged marriage | Stiles is underestimated | mpreg w/o abo | accidental knotting | jock!Derek | jock!Stiles | alive Hales | spanking | royal abo au | longfic

[bizarrelovetriangel]

the princess and her knight.

he devoted his life to you. he'll sacrifice his heart and soul for you, even if fate doesn't allow it. but maybe there's something stronger than fate that will grant your deepest desires.

princess!mc/reader x knight!caleb au. fluff with angst but mostly fluff. mutual pining. yearner and jealous caleb. briefly features other characters.

inspired by this lovely art by zvdohu

You glared at Caleb from across the room. How dare he laugh at you while you suffer?

Your grandmother, the current queen of the kingdom, is once again reminding you of Linkon's history by forcing you to read the thick, dusty books in the library.

In a week, you will be hosting a ball to celebrate the day Linkon was born, and as part of tradition, you are to give a speech to honor your ancestors.

Usually, the Queen is the one that does the special presentation in front of the guests; however, this year, your grandmother wants to draw more attention to you.

She's planning to step down as the Queen soon and passing the title to you. She wants people to recognize you as the kingdom's new authority figure. She wants to be certain that you won't make any foolish mistakes during your speech.

That's why Caleb is laughing at you right now.

He's leaning against the door that he's guarding, completely entertained by the faces you're making as you try not to fall asleep in the middle of Josephine's lecture.

Suddenly, the door was opened and Caleb was thrown off balance, causing him to wobble for a second.

"Queen Josephine, Princess," your grandmother's main guard, Jenna, greets you both. "It's time for dinner."

"Yes!"

You jumped from your chair and fled from the library before anyone could stop you. You grabbed Caleb's left arm and pulled him with you as you disappeared through the hallways of the castle.

"Come on, Caleb!"

"Whoa! Slow down, pip-squeak! Food's not going to run away. They were cooked very well, you know? That boar was fast, but I was faster."

You laughed at how proud he looks. "I'll join on the next hunt. I bet I'm even faster than you. I will catch bigger meals, too!"

"Oh? I'll take that as a challenge."

Your pace slows down as you reached the courtyard. As other knights and retainers crossed paths with you, they respectfully bowed at you and Caleb.

The Princess and the Knight Commander.

"If you catch a bigger prey than me, I'll do anything you want for a whole day - "

"Just one day? Also, you have to do whatever I want anyway. Because I'm the princess." you grinned. "But fine. I'll be sure to make it a long, memorable day for you, Sir Caleb."

"Hey now, don't get carried away, pip-squeak. I said, if you catch a bigger prey than me. But if I win, then you have to do something that I want."

"Sure, sure. whatever."

It didn't matter because you're going to win.

"Good evening, Princess, Sir Caleb." You two were greeted by a retainer as you entered the great hall, where you always eat.

"Good evening."

You sat down at your usual spot and Caleb, as always, took the seat across from you.

"Wait, this...." your knight sniffed one of the food in front of him and grimaced. "There's cilantro in this! Why - I told them not to put cilantro on my portions..." His eyes slowly met your judging gaze. "Pip-squeak, this must be yours - "

"No. Eat your vegetables."

///////////////

As much as you enjoyed your savory dinner, your stomach yearned for more food when midnight struck. You stayed up late memorizing your speech for the ball, and now, you're in desperate need of a snack.

You put on a cardigan over your nightgown, then you quietly left your room. Caleb should already be in his room around this time, so you didn't need to worry about slipping past him.

You made your way to the castle's big kitchen and cheered at its vacancy.

Now, what can you eat?

You can't go wrong with classic sandwhich.

A potato soup would suffice, too.

Dumplings would be amazing.

"How about an apple pie?"

You picked up the closest item to your hand, which happened to be a frying pan, and used it as a weapon to defend yourself from the person that sneaked up right behind you.

Caleb was unfazed as his prosthetic right arm clung against your weapon right when it was about to hit his face.

"What a funny looking sword you have here, princess." he smirked at you. "Did you lose the one I gave you for your birthday two years ago?"

You huffed, though you felt relieved that it's only Caleb and not your grandmother. He's not wearing his night attire yet nor is he in his all-black knight uniform. Instead, he's in his training gear.

It's not unusual for him to train late at night, though it is rare to see him in the kitchen at this time. Either someone snitched on you, or he caught you himself on his way back to his room.

"Impressive reaction time though. You remembered my lessons. Well done." He put the frying pan back to its initial place.

"I'm just hungry and want a snack." you sigh, rubbing your growling stomach.

Caleb shook his head. "Grandma will scold you if she finds out..." He then ruffled your hair. "Well, she won't hear it from me. What do you have in mind, pip-squeak?"

You beamed at him. "You'll make me food?!"

"Mhmm. And for myself, too, since I just finished training and am in need of protein."

"Yay! I want to help! Let's use the leftover shrimps and make spicy wontons!"

The Queen's loyal guard caught you two as you were chatting and laughing loudly in the kitchen, but she decided not to say anything.

Afer all, this is something that's been happening for as long as she started working for the royal family. Ever since you were little, you and Caleb would often sneak in the kitchen to make yourselves a late night snack.

Caleb is good at leaving no evidence of his crimes, and both of you look way too happy every time you're munching, so Jenna never wants to be the one to put an end on your fun.

///////////

You and Caleb separated from the other knights and hunters so you can start your competition: whoever catches the bigger prey wins.

Even though it's noon, all the trees in the forest provided plenty of shade to block a lot of sunlight, so most of your path is darkened.

"You have to be careful, pip-squeak. Gideon told me there's been more victims of that red dragon living at the edge of the kingdom."

"Nice try, but I'm not scared of dragons." You crossed your arms and walked ahead of Caleb, adjusting the gloves you wore on your hands.

You're wearing your hunting uniform and your sword is sheated by your hip, ready to be drawn at any sign of danger.

"Anyway, we should split up so we can look for our preys. I'll go this way."

Caleb hesitated but agreed. "If anything happens, just call for me. Be careful and pay attention to your surroundings."

"I know." You gave him a wave before walking farther into another direction.

Caleb kept his eyes on you for as long as you were visible to him.

He knows that you are capable of protecting yourself. Not only were you trained by himself, Jenna also made you one of her students. You absolutely have the skills to be a high-ranking knight, too.

It's just that he's so used to being your protector for pretty much your whole lives. Before you knew how to fend for yourself, it was his job to make sure nobody hurts you, ever again.

When you were children, before being adopted by Josephine, both of you were properties of the kingdom, used as lab rats for military and warzone weapons.

He knows you have no memory of it because that's one of the outcome of their cruel, inhumane experiments, but Caleb will never forget it. He always tried to protect you even when he couldn't, even when he knew they were going to punisn him twice as much.

Once Josephine reigned over the kingdom after its vile, previous ruler's death, the two of you were freed. Caleb promised to stay by your side to keep protecting you. He'll never let anything happen to you for as long as he lives.

That's why it's hard for him to let you out of his sight. He trusts you, but he holds no trust for the rest of the world.

"Hehe, you're not gonna believe what I got."

After an hour, you reunited at the same spot where you split up from. Caleb is already there, waiting for you while casually sitting against a thick tree trunk and eating an apple.

Caleb raised a brow at your dirty face and clothes. "What could've possibly given you such a trouble?"

"Ta-da!"

"...."

"...."

".....pfft!"

"Caleb!" Your right fist landed on his shoulder. "Don't laugh!"

"It's...." he took a few more seconds to let out all his giggles while your face heats up with embarrassment. "It's a hare! Truly a hard thing to catch. I'm so proud of you, princess~"

You playfully smacked his shoulder again. "Shut up! This was all I could find! What about you, then?! Where's your catch? I don't see anything!"

Caleb crossed his legs so he could sit even more comfortably. "I also had a little trouble finding anything. All I could get was that little thing that almost ran into me."

You faced the direction that he pointed to and your mouth drops at the sight of a dead stag.

"What?! How?!"

Caleb laughs at your reaction. "Unfortunately for you, pip-squeak, I just know this forest better than you do. I know where all the big guys like to hang out at this time of the day."

"Damn."

"Don't look so down." Caleb poked your nose. "You'll have another delicious meal tonight, thanks to me. And we can eat your catch for our midnight snack, too."

"Ugh, now I'm mad." Mad at yourself for bringing up such a silly challenge that you stood no chance of winning. "I didn't even get to use my sword that much after I spent a long time polishing it! Caleb, let's spar!"

He was quick to bring out his sword before giving you a dramatic bow. "As you wish, my princess."

////////////

Over the next few days, you spent most of your time and energy preparing for the upcoming ball.

You helped your grandmother decide what food will be made, you thought of the decorations and the set up of tables, and you also had to be the one that decided who will receive invitations for the event.

"Who's Rafayel again?" Caleb asks, looking over your shoulder to read the name on the envelope you're holding.

You pointed at a painting hanging on a wall of the study room.

"Another prince, but also an artist. He's the one who painted that, and several other paintings in the castle. Grandma's a big fan of him. And me, too."

"And you're inviting him?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because.... grandma wants to?"

"But do you want to?"

"I... guess so? It'd be nice to meet him and tell him that I'm a fan of his work."

"...you could just write him a letter." he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder as he continued to examine the envelope. "Lemuria? Isn't that the kingdom underwater?!"

"Yep."

"Are you sure you want him to come all the way here? Isn't it too far for him?

You grunted. "It's up to him if he wants to come or not. Anyway, that's the last invitation. Now, I need to go see Doctor Zayne."

As you were ascending from your chair, Caleb freezes. "You're going to see Zayne? What for?"

"For my regular check up."

"Oh, right...."

Caleb frowns for a moment, eyes darting to your chest, right where your heart is. It's a very special heart. He wants to protect it, too, but only a healer has the ability to do that.

"I'm coming with you! I haven't seen him in a while. I should get a check up, too, for my arm."

Now, it's your turn to falter, but Caleb took no notice as he's grabbing all the invitations you had in your hands.

Caleb lost his right arm just a couple of years ago. An unknown knight had attacked the two of you on your way back from visiting another princess.

Even today, you're unsure of their purpose. One thing that's certain is that you were not the only target: they clearly tried to capture you and Caleb.

Caleb sacrificed his right arm, but he managed to defeat the unknown knight. You don't know what happened to them afterwards, but you assumed they'd been executed for the attempted abduction.

Although Caleb was able to get a prosthetic arm, you're still saddened by the incident. He'd mentioned to you once that he can't feel anything in his right arm, unless it's extreme pain. You wish there was something you could do for him.

"I'll bring some left over cake." Caleb grins. "I hope Zayne likes carrot cake."

"Caleb, no!"

/////////////

This time, you didn't sneak in the kitchen. Instead, you sneaked out of the castle. And this time, you have a partner in crime.

"Sshhh, they're coming."

You and Caleb are squished together inside a small, but thankfully clean supplies closet on the hallway closest to the castle's backdoor exit.

You already feel hot from the brown cloak that you're wearing to hide your identity, but Caleb's body being pressed against yours made you feel as if you're inside a volcano.

One of his hand is on your waist, keeping you steady since the floor is littered with small random objects you can easily slip from. His left hand is covering your mouth so you don't make any noise.

Your heart is racing so fast, you worried for a moment that you might have to go back to see Zayne for another check up.

It's pitch black and you can't see anything, but you know Caleb's face is extremely close to yours because you can feel his breath grazing your lips.

You can hear the quiet clinking that his charm is making as it dangles on the clasp of his cloak.

The silver tag that says, 'When U come back', attached to an apple with a red jewel. You gave the charm to him when he had officially become a knight, and Caleb decided to put it on his cloak so that he's always wearing it.

When he's not wearing the cloak, he'll put it on a silver chain and turn it to a necklace. No matter where he goes, no matter the time of day, he's always wearing it.

And now, the charm is tickling your cheek as Caleb shifted slightly to stop his legs from numbing.

The insides of your stomach is dancing nervously. You feel like you're going to throw up.

Sure, you've been this close with Caleb before. But most of those times happened when you were younger. Things are a little different now.

The way you see him.... it's no longer the same way as you looked at him when you were kids. Now, you see him in ways that make your heart skip a beat as you imagine him holding you when you fall asleep at night.

"They're gone. Let's go!"

Caleb held your hand and together, you escaped from the castle just an hour before midnight.

This time, you'd gone out to fill your stomach with chicken skewers that both you and Caleb love. They are only available outside of the castle, so you don't always get to enjoy it unlike him, who has much more freedom.

Afterwards, you climbed a hill that gave you the best view of the kingdom, as well as the twinkling stars of the night sky.

You and Caleb found that spot years ago, and it's become one of your favorite places to cool off whenever you need to get away from the castle and momentarily forget about your princess and knight duties.

"The ball is just two days away. Are you excited?"

"I don't really mind parties and it is fun to host them, though it's also exhausting. I can't wait for it to be over already." you sigh. "I am a little nervous about the speech, but other than that, I think everything is all set."

"Don't worry. I'll prepare a cheat card for you. If you forget the words, just look for me in the crowd."

"Heh. Of course."

"What about dancing? Did you get enough practice or are you gonna keep stepping on people's feet?"

"I only did that to you one time!"

"More like five times."

"And that was before I started getting used to dances since I've started to attend lots of formal events with grandma. I'm way better now."

Caleb smiled before reaching out his left hand at you. "Prove it then, pip-squeak."

"What?"

"Dance with me."

"Right now? Here?"

"No time and place better."

You took his hand and got into position. There's no music, so Caleb provided one for you by humming a melody that sounds familiar yet you can't recall exactly where it's from.

The ground you stood on was pure grain and dirt, but you didn't care. All that matters right now is that you're together, and having him close to you is something that you'll always cherish.

"Hmm, you're right. Two minutes in so far and you haven't stepped on me. Already an improvement."

"I told you! I'm a good dancer now!" You then remembered something that was worth sharing. "Oh, but do you remember this one knight from when we visited Princess Tara? He was such a horrible dancer!"

While you broke into a rant, Caleb's eyes fell to your lips as they moved.

Just a little closer...

Just for a second, he wants to know how they would feel and how they would taste. Would they be as soft and sweet as he imagined?

So, so, close.

But he can't.

Caleb forced himself to look away and give a little distance between your faces and bodies. His gaze shifted to your shoulder so that he doesn't get caught into your bewitching features again.

He's a knight and you're the princess.

That's all.

Years ago, he could have been a prince, too. Josephine originally wanted to make you two her heirs to take over the crown once she steps down.

But Caleb realized that becoming an heir means that not only does he have to marry a princess from another kingdom for political purposes, he'll also have to devote his life to this kingdom. He didn't want to serve the kingdom. He just wanted to serve you and you only.

That's why he chose to be your knight. He decided to devote his life to you. He'll give his life to you, to protect you, for as long as he can. All he wants is to be by your side for as long as you let him.

Although, Caleb isn't sure if he's ready to accept the possibility that a prince will come and steal you away one day.

He will have no choice but to accept it.

He's going to have to brace himself every time you fall into someone else's arms. He'll just have to force himself to look away when another prince kisses the lips that he's only ever dreamt of.

It's a sacrifice he's willing to make as long as he can keep protecting you.

///////////

The speech went well, fortunately.

You were a little nervous with so many eyes on you, but Caleb standing right in front of you with a reassuring smile on his face made you feel light and safe. You were able to give your presentation without stuttering and making unnecessary hand movements.

Your grandmother looked proud, so you took that as a good sign. You immediately rewarded yourself with a glass of wine. Just one. It's nowhere near enough to mess with your senses, but plenty for you to relax and enjoy the party.

You sat with the Queen and enjoyed eating delicious meals with her. Then, your attention was requested by a prince who wanted a dance with you.

Your grandmother urged you to go to the dance floor before you could shove a macaron in your mouth.

The prince in an all-white suit caught that and laughed with amusement. He gave you some time to enjoy your dessert before patiently taking your hand and leading you to the area where other people are dancing.

Prince Xavier is from the neighboring kingdom. You two are good friends and frequently have meetings together.

Every time there's any political assemblies that require attendance of royalties, you always look for Xavier so you can sit next to him. He prefers to take naps than participate in discussions, so he's the best company you could have.

"Is the Princess dancing with Prince Xavier?"

Caleb overhears one of the guests.

"They would make quite a strong pair, wouldn't they? The two royal families unifying would certainly be helpful to both kingdoms."

He leans his back against the wall and watches the way your dress twirls along with your movements as your dance partner spins you around elegantly.

Caleb can't find it in him to look away from you.

Ever since he escorted you out of your room, wearing that beautiful dress, his eyes have been glued to you like a masterpiece in a museum.

Even when you're dancing with a prince who had one arm around your waist, he stared. Even when you laughed at something Xavier had said, Caleb didn't move his gaze.

When another princess had come up to him to ask him for a dance, he made an excuse. "I must keep a close eye on my princess the whole time in case of any danger. My apologies."

He only looked away from you for a brief moment, but when he returned his focus on you, Caleb caught you looking at him while one of your arms remained on Prince Xavier's.

He didn't break the eye contact.

And neither did you.

You feel like you're being pulled towards him by an invisible force, yet there was nothing that was stringing you in any direction.

It's just your racing heart.

You want to dance with Caleb just like how you did under the stars.

What would he say if you asked him?

Would he say yes simply because you're the princess?

You were terrified to find out.

And so, you ran off towards the food tables and ate away your feelings with the help of some desserts.

Doctor Zayne said eating sweet treats can make you feel better, and he's right.

"The red velvet cupcakes must be so good, even your cheeks are enjoying them."

You didn't even need to check who just showed up next to you. The reason for the butterflies in your stomach.

"Try one!"

You shoved a red cupcake in his mouth before he could reject you. He had no choice but to chew and swallow.

"You're right. It's yummy."

He then raised his left hand towards your face and brushed his fingers against your cheek to get rid of the frosting that stained your skin.

"Better be careful, princess. If you make a mess out of yourself, you might scare away any potential suitors eyeing you tonight. I can confirm, there are quite a few of them."

You scoff. "If they can't handle food crumbs, they're too weak for me."

Caleb laughs. "That's true. You do look your best when you're happily devouring snacks, after all."

"Oh yeah! That reminds me, you have to make that thing that you gave me the other day! It's so good and I need more of it!"

Caleb crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly while his eyes lights up at your compliment. "I don't know... I might have to start charging you. It takes time and hard work to make them, you know?"

"Fine, I'll give you whatever you want. I don't care. Just need more of it."

You started to daydream about the tasty snack, but you were instantly pulled out of it as Caleb asked you a question.

"Pip-squeak, you remember my reward for our hunting competition?"

You nodded. "I have to do something you want." You assume he'll ask for that now. "What is it? It better not be anything weird that'll make people laugh at me."

Caleb smiled softly. "I don't know. Some people might laugh, since it will be an unusual thing to see, but...."

"But..."

"But... will you... dance with me?"

You dropped the cupcake on your hand.

"Huh!?"

Caleb stood his ground with more confidence this time. He opened one hand in front of you. "Will you dance with me?"

For a moment, you wondered if you were dreaming.

Your heart accelerated and your palms started to sweat.

If this is just another dream, then you'll gladly enjoy it.

"I'd love to."

The feeling was the same as the last time. It didn't matter if you were alone on top of a dirty hill, or in a bright and colorful ballroom filled with people watching your every move.

As long as it's Caleb, it feels right.

It can't be anyone else. It has to be him. The one that you want to spend the rest of your life with. The one you want by your side. Not just as a knight, but a lover.

It has to be Caleb.

It's always been Caleb.

It will always be Caleb.

"If you keep looking at me like that..." he whispered as he rested his forehead against yours. "I might do something crazy."

"How crazy?"

"It might make grandma mad. Because... I might scare away the princes that want to steal you from me."

That was when you noticed it. The desperation in his eyes and voice.

He wanted it too.

The same thing that you want.

A life together.

A life where you're not just the princess and her knight.

"Maybe you should do it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"You know why..." He looks down at his hand that rests on your hips. "You're the princess and I'm just a knight."

"So what?"

"We can't - I don't have anything to offer you."

You brought your hands on the back of his neck and pulled him even closer to you.

"All I want is you, Caleb. That's plenty already."

"But..."

"What's the point of being a princess with all this power, if I can't be with the one I truly love?"

Caleb's eyes widened as soon as the last word came out of your mouth.

His breath hitched and his grip on your waist tightened.

"If they want to take away my title, then so be it. At least, my heart will be where it wants to be." You meant every word and you've never been certain with anything in your life.

Caleb was terrified to move.

What if he makes one wrong move and suddenly, he's waking up on his bed and this was all just in his head?

It all feels too good to be true.

But once your warm, soft hands held his face, he realized just how real everyhing this.

It's now or never.

If he doesn't do it now, he might not get another chance.

And so, the knight kissed the princess.

//////////

Now, it's your turn to laugh at Caleb.

"Pay attention! As the Prince Consort, you have to know these things!"

"Grandma, I already know all this. I've done all my homework when I was in school, unlike a certain pip-squeak who just made me do her homework for her."

You grinned as you recalled the memories he was referring to. "Why did you do them? You could've just said no."

Caleb shook his head.

You both know very well that he can never say no to you. You have the power to make him do even the most ridiculous things in the world.

You can make him eat the most disgusting food.

You can make him climb the highest mountain.

You can make him stop somebody's heart.

All you have to do is ask and he will obey.

His life remains yours, always.

"Anyway, there's another hunting party so I have to get ready now. I'm still the Knight Commander, so I can't be late. See you later, grandma!"

Caleb rushed to you and picked you up bridal style as he runs away from the library.

"Pip-squeak, shall we have another competition? If I catch a bigger prey.... will you sleep in my room tonight?"

You lightly punched his chest at his suggestive smirk that had your face burning. "I'd do that if you just ask me normally, dummy. But if I win! You have to cook dinner for me!"

"Whatever you want, my princess."

[muqingslover]

[ Back on my doomed childhood boys agenda yippieeee!! This one is a more long kinda fic style of my take on their relationship! For the people who are new: I'm basically just exploring their vulnerability and dynamic with each other bc I think it's neat!

I'll be splitting this one into two parts that I plan on posting as soon as im done proofreading \⁠(⁠๑⁠╹⁠◡⁠╹⁠๑⁠)⁠ﾉ FYI: First part is more centered around Caleb and the next one around Zayne!

Also! Please give me tag name ideas specifically for these posts!! ]

-----------------------------❆❦❆❦⁠--------------------------

Zayne and Caleb have a complicated relationship. It wasn't hard to realize if anyone was to spend more than ten minutes in the same room as them.

You were their everything; Their first love, their most precious person and the one they'd both do anything for. They wanted nothing more than to make sure you were happy and safe regardless of where you were.

That fact soon extended into looking out for each other so you never needed to worry about either of them. Or well, that's how it started as anyway.

Caleb sometimes got into fights without your knowledge to protect you from the neighborhood troublemakers that wanted to bully you. It wasn't a big deal, really. But, during that time, he wasn't the biggest or the strongest and naturally he came out looking a bit rough.

"Again?" Zayne sighed when he found the other sitting near your house like a watch dog, looking all bruised up and disheveled. He expected this 'phase' of his to naturally pass as they grew older, but it didn't quite fully go away. Well, nothing that involved you ever simply disappeared with Caleb.

"Piss off." He huffed roughly as he wiped the blood from his split lip and crossed his arms over his chest like he was a pouty child instead of an edgy teen. Zayne was always amazed by the stark contrast of how he acted when you weren't around— The boarding on childish sulking, unmeasured words, constant grumpy or simply uninterested look on his face and his boyish, petty behavior. Part of him couldn't begin to imagine how exhausting it must be to always be putting on an act in front of someone he loves, to repress everything about who he is for the sake of being flawless.

"Let me take a look." He sat next to him as he reached into his bag for some of the emergency supplies he carried with him exactly for situations such as these. In the beginning there was a lot of "acting tough" from Caleb but by bringing up the fact you would be very upset if you were to find out the real reason as to why he was all beaten up he quickly piped down. This was basically routine now— The way Zayne would receive nasty glares because the alcohol stung, the grumbles about how this was nothing "compared to the other guys" and how the other refused to meet his eyes while he patched up the small wounds that littered his skin.

Caleb found...uncomfortable how he was always so earnest. Zayne always had that same "dumb, dead fish" look on his face and yet he was so....Genuine. More than he will ever get to be. His sharp, green eyes seemed to peel away each layer that he so carefully kept wrapped around himself to stay hidden from the world, hidden from you, laying him bare effortlessly and he didn't like that. No, he hated it.

After all, to Caleb, love is about being everything you want and more. It's about twisting himself into knots for your comfort. It's about living and dying for you without hesitation because nothing else, not even himself, matters if you're by his side. He will be who you need him to be and if that means throwing away who he truly is then he will do it gladly.

Still, sometimes, only sometimes, his mind would beg for a break. Only a small moment of respite where he didn't have to overthink about each of the expressions he made or triple check his actions.

Zayne never needed to find out that when he was by his side it was as if he could really breathe. It was just...easy. He didn't expect anything from him nor did Caleb want to impress the other in any way. Sure, he wanted to prove he was better than that "four eyes" was for you, but he never felt the desperate need to keep that facade he kept with you when it was just them. Nothing between them felt rehearsed or forced, not even when they lent each other a hand. How can someone Caleb dislikes so much bring him such peace remains to this day a mystery to him.

[autisticlenaluthor]

i'm a firm believer that nat would've made jackie come back inside the cabin if she had been there. we know she wasn't there during the argument, but the next morning, when the girls find jackie, she's there with them. she and travis must have come back late at night, after the snow had already covered jackie. since there was no fire or light, they clearly didn't see her and missed her. the question of the hour - do we think nat might feel guilty about accidentally missing jackie in the snow?

100% agree with all of this. imo, nat definitely feels guilty about missing jackie.

despite her exterior, teen nat is easily the most empathetic (dare i say soft?) of all the girls. she cares so much - even when she’s at odds with one of them, or straight up hating them (like how she tries to level with lottie in the most recent ep about going home. and the way that she gives up the tub when she likely had frostbite for her, at the peak of their conflict. and even with travis - when he hates her in s1, nat still tries so hard to be there for him and support him)

so yes, jackie was a bitch to nat before she died. but any anger nat had towards her was coming from a place of hurt. nat never hated her and never would’ve wanted her dead. and i think the fact that she was right there, so close to being able to save her, even if unknowingly, is something that would keep her up at night. because nat tries to save everyone - it’s what’s ultimately her downfall as a leader; she just isn’t as vicious as the others and they know it

i think the guilt that nat feels is also unique to the guilt the others might feel. when nat apologizes to jackie’s bones she says “i’m sorry for what we did to you”

i know this means the obvious - “i’m sorry we ate you” but i think it goes deeper than that.

the girls terrorized jackie at doomcoming. they humiliated her and degraded her and lottie locked her in a closet. in the days following, it’s easy to assume they would’ve treated her pretty badly, if the dinner scene before her fight with shauna is anything to go off of. if nat saw what was happening and didn’t intervene, i’m sure that, combined with the fact that she missed jackie in the snow weighs on her pretty heavily. especially since we know from the pilot when she stands up for allie - nat always had the backs of the others, even if they weren’t particularly close.

so tldr: i do think nat feels guilty. and “i’m sorry for what we did to you” likely goes so much deeper than just the obvious interpretation

[oceanicwriting]

that easy?

summary: you have been obsessed with lorenzo berkshire since the first time you heard him talk. soft, cute, and shy wasn't in your list of turn-on, but now it was. and today, after a couple of weeks following him around hogwarts, you finally get something else than the hope of being touched by him.

pairing(s): shy!lorenzo berkshire x dom!fem!reader

a/n: not pretty sure what this is, but kinda like it bc i do have a thing for good-looking nerds! working in lorenzo x best friend girlfriend next, hehe.

+18 smut, masturbation (m!receiving), oral (m!receiving), public sex, premature ejaculation, cursing, shy (almost pathetic) and loud lorenzo berkshire

ㅤㅤㅤ there he is, with his glasses neatly arranged and reading a book on who knows what. his thin body, almost as thin as a twig, is resting on a wooden chair two tables away from you. it's even comical how much you like that bookworm because the last few weeks you've hung out in places on campus you've never been before... only to see him from afar. which of the two of you was more pathetic?

ㅤㅤㅤ —i don't understand why we keep doing this, —says one of your friends, shoving the book she's been falsely reading—. you could go over and invite him to f....

ㅤㅤㅤ —shuts your mouths —interrupts a voice coming from the students who actually study in the library. weirdos.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you shut the fuck up —she retorts to the air, waving her hand in symbolic dismissal—. this is ridiculous. any guy in this place would want to date you. besides... just looking at that leech, i can bet he's jerked off thinking about you more than once. i don't make the rules, honey.

ㅤㅤㅤ your friends start talking amongst themselves, betting a couple of coins on what was said. you, on the other hand, can only think of lorenzo berkshire masturbating with you on his mind, sweaty and moaning as softly as he talks when asked a question in class. the mere thought ignites something inside you that you could only forget when you see him in that position. you needed to see it with your own eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ —girls, you can leave if you want, —you say suddenly, standing up at the same time as the brown-haired boy—. i'll see you later.

ㅤㅤㅤ neither of them notice that your footsteps follow lorenzo's because they celebrate their freedom and disappear from the library instantly. you set off, walking after lorenzo among the huge shelves full of books. each time, the light was less and less, giving a dark, dangerous, and intriguing air for someone who had never set foot in the hogwarts library.

ㅤㅤㅤ it's a while before it's just you among the shelves, invisible to the sight of any student who would have passed by a while ago. then, lorenzo stops, arranging the books in his arms on the respective shelf, undaunted by your hunting presence.

ㅤㅤㅤ —hello, —you greet, hearing your voice echo, and the boy's books fall to the floor—. oh, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to scare you.

ㅤㅤㅤ both of you have dropped to the floor to pick up the huge books, while lorenzo denies all the time as if he wanted to give you to understand that it was his fault. it's strange, a little tender if you must admit it, that he can't look you in the eye, and his cheeks are tinged with a slight pink.

ㅤㅤㅤ —nice glasses. —you can notice lorenzo's confusion at your presence, but he says nothing and, at the compliment, adjusts his glasses. how long his fingers are, so cute—. you know... i should wear glasses too, but i'm afraid i would look ridiculous, so i hide them in my night drawer.

ㅤㅤㅤ —ridiculous? —questions, stifling a laugh that she seems to want to explain later—. everything you wear looks cute on you.... i-i mean, that's... that's what e-everyone says.

ㅤㅤㅤ his embarrassment becomes so adorable to you that your body reacts instinctively, drawing you closer to him like a magnet.

ㅤㅤㅤ —and what do you say? —you know your cloying voice is having an effect by the pitiful way he moves—. can i try them on?

ㅤㅤㅤ he nods, passing you the glasses as if you had given him an order rather than a question. you put them on, and through them, you can see him trying to accommodate his eyes. so cute and appetizing.

ㅤㅤㅤ —they look nice on you.

ㅤㅤㅤ you've never been interested in someone like lorenzo before. it's most likely thanks to that you never noticed his existence at hogwarts. a boy who lives locked in the library would have no reason to meet the most popular girl in the magical world, would he? all of your ex-boyfriends were, although physically similar, jerks. boys full of frivolity, demanding and cruel who had nothing to do with this soft-spoken boy.

ㅤㅤㅤ it's pathetic. even you know it's pathetic as your body is undoubtedly attracted to him. you want to kiss him, kiss him so hard and long that his lips would end up cramping. but you don't, because maybe that could end up scaring him off, and you had to drag this moment out.

ㅤㅤㅤ —they look better on you.

ㅤㅤㅤ your hand reaches up to his arm, making it bristle. you go up and down, caressing his shirt-covered bicep. lorenzo doesn't seem to understand where the situation is going, so you take a step closer and guide his arms to put the books aside.

ㅤㅤㅤ —tell me, lorenzo, did you ever realize what you provoke in me? —he sighs, his breath choking and heaving—. did you see me sitting two tables away waiting for you to lift your head from your books? because, oh, merlin, how i looked at you wishing any of those books of yours were me. i wanted your fingers to touch me like that.

ㅤㅤㅤ your hand guides one of lorenzo's to your skirt, where you bring it up just enough so that your skin is electrified by the contact. he simply leaves his hand there, perplexed, gone, and you notice the dangerous bulge squeezing his pants.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i... m-me.

ㅤㅤㅤ though he tries to speak, his own breathing and your caresses, stagnating on his neck and gently descending down his chest, play against him. he can not speak.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you want to leave? —you have to ask, although the answer is a clear negative—. do you want me to help you?

ㅤㅤㅤ your hand descending down his taut, hard lower chest makes him sigh again and again. when you reach the edge of his pants, you reach inside, making him startle.

ㅤㅤㅤ —just tell me if you don't want it like this, —you whisper, but he denies again, and your hand grabs his hard member to pull it out of its hiding place—. oh, merlin...

ㅤㅤㅤ maybe it was too stupid a bias, but someone like lorenzo shouldn't have a dick as big as that. your hand could hardly even curl around its girth, let alone cover its length. lorenzo, who has clearly seen himself in that situation, doesn't flinch at his nakedness. how many times he must have been hiding in his room with this great treasure between his hands, whimpering and pretending that someone was touching him.

ㅤㅤㅤ then you spit in your hand, a sufficient amount of saliva to start masturbating him. you go up, down, so slow and torturous that even you get desperate. his moans are soft, mixed with guttural grunts that make you shudder. you go up and down. one, two, three, four, five, six and....

ㅤㅤㅤ —fuck. n-no —he says as it happens. lorenzo trembles, grunts, and his fluids shoot out.

ㅤㅤㅤ —that easy? —you whisper, not judging, but certainly unsettled.

ㅤㅤㅤ he doesn't seem to have heard you because lorenzo tries to keep his composture as if he's had the best orgasm of his entire life. his face has exploded in red shortly after, when he seems to have realized what happened. his hands move towards his member, trying to hide it in his pants again, but you don't let him.

ㅤㅤㅤ —let me taste it. just a little, —you say, knowing that you must look as pathetic as he does at how horny it has made you that he cums so fast.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i'm s-sorry.

ㅤㅤㅤ you deny, smiling at him and falling to your knees on the floor. his cock again hard from the work of your hand. you try to taste his full length, although it's so hard that tears gather on your face from the inhuman effort of holding his member between your lips.

ㅤㅤㅤ it doesn't take long for lorenzo to unravel into a myriad of obscene sounds that are accompanied by the sound of your own saliva. he suddenly begins to move, instinctively seeking more. it's a matter of time, much less than the time it took to your hand, before lorenzo moans a little louder than normal and the beginnings of his explosion crash against your throat. he tries to come out of your mouth, but you don't even let him. you wanted every last drop.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what a-are you doing? —he asks, in a panic.

ㅤㅤㅤ you swallow every last drop of his semen and a burning heat embraces your whole body. lorenzo can't understand what had just happened, putting his cock away and walking away in a matter of seconds. you watch him go, his quick, clumsy steps not being followed by your own. after all, you've been left with his glasses, and you've got a big wet problem between your panties.

[disassembly-required]

So I know it's common for folks to headcanon Khan was always obsessed with doors, and that obsession was more or less an arbitrary passion he had... but I can't help but feel there's a really important detail that, when considered, suggests otherwise?

In episode 4, when Khan is showing the contents of "Nori's kooky insane ramblings" closet, one of the things he quotes Nori said was "build doors against the coming sky demons"

I feel this implies

a) building doors to protect from the murder drones (that she apparently had an intuition about) was Nori's idea

b) Khan, on some level, believed this was a "kooky insane rambling" and not something he took seriously

(important to remember Nori had some level of memory loss/disorganized cognition when she was recovered from the lab; Khan didn't know the significance of her history there, and Nori wouldn't have been able tell him everything, only these ominous bits and pieces that didn't entirely make sense.)

Therefore, c) Khan likely didn't even start building any doors before the murder drones came, since in the exposition intro, the workers were otherwise just living casually, not hiding away in the outpost.

So I'm led to believe perhaps... when the "sky demons" were real and they killed Nori, Khan felt responsible for her death because he didn't listen to her. He didn't build the doors.

And perhaps that's where his obsession stems from, that fatal mistake he never wanted to make again. And we can say it's pretty maladaptive, since he became so preoccupied with doors, he was more emotionally invested in them than Uzi. But in his mind, he must have thought his life's work WAS all for her, to keep her safe, where he failed Nori. Khan also became way too comfortable in his maladaptive coping, feeling SO sure behind his doors, he would never have to actually face a murder drone ever again.

All that said, it also puts his actions in the pilot into a bit of a different light, when he abandoned Uzi. I don't think Khan was simply frightened seeing a murder drone and acting cowardly. I think he was having a flashback and a panic response. I mean, Uzi's appearance takes after her mother, yeah? It must've reminded him of Nori being attacked, which is.. even more harrowing with the heavy implication N was the specific murder drone who killed Nori. Even if Khan didn't actively know it or recognize him, looking at N's face filled him panic. He was being brought back to Nori's death.

I think there's a few different reasons he may have chosen to close the door. I don't think it was done in a sound mind "this is clearly for the greater good, only losing one drone instead of the whole colony" thought process. I'm sure that was part of what he was weighing the best he could possibly process. But I think another reason may have been the fact that he already felt like he already failed Uzi, and by extent Nori once again, and he ....didn't want to see it happen again. Whether he didn't believe Uzi's gun was strong enough, or believed he wouldn't be able to aim, or believed wouldn't even have a shot at all before N attacked him too, ultimately he must've felt like the scene would play out the same (we are left to wonder if Khan tried to fight back when it was Nori...) and he didn't want to see Nori (through Uzi) die again.

Which sounds awful of course, but PTSD will do that to you. You'll make terrible, impulsive decisions because your mind is trying to protect itself from further damage. Had Uzi actually died, I think the regret would have hit him like a truck and destroyed him. I don't think he would have stood by a decision he made during a panic attack.

Anyway I got a little sidetracked re: Khan's trauma, but my main thesis here was: doors was Nori's idea. Khan didn't listen until it was too late. Then his entire world became doors.

[alchemistc]

@a-mel0n's tags on the Helena gifset I reblogged made me take a step back and think for a bit.

I have a metric fuckton of my own issues that play into the way Helena Diaz makes me feel, but trying to look at it as unbiased as I can:

There's a large contingent of people who have IMMENSE derision for a Helicopter Mom, and the way they interpret her actions is just baked in misogyny on top of it. I'm a little scared to look at the tags on that post beyond the ones in my own notifications but I am assuming there's a lot of things in there that would make me go 'yeah but...she's not wrong'.

(If she were my mother we would fight to the death five times a week or I would have ghosted her years ago, but that's a me issue.)

A lot of the dogpiling seems to come from the fact that she's simultaneously dismissive of Eddie and holier-than-thou about the way Eddie parents. And I don't necessarily disagree with those points - there's a very specific reason her tone sticks in my craw and makes me irrationally upset, because it's a very specific behavior that when looked at in pattern is incredibly noticeable and incredibly demeaning.

The scene that tipped me over the edge on Helena isn't even in that gifset - it was when she couldn't be bothered to carry the fucking laptop over to where Chris's friends were singing him HBD, because that tipped the line from "I've been half-raising this child in your absence, this is a pattern of behavior on your part and I'm just trying to keep your son on even ground." to "I do not care about the relationship you have with my your son or the fact that you must be missing him."

In the end, Chris is the one who made the decision to leave, to go live with his grandparents, and they obliged because they love him. Eddie can't and shouldn't fault them for that.

And let's be real. Eddie's a fucking mess. Eddie has BEEN a fucking mess since he knocked up his girlfriend as a teenager and he's never fully recovered from that. He was already expected to be the man of his house BEFORE that, too. He's taken hit after hit after hit but I'm not sure what he's learned from it? That could be a narrative issue but he tends to go with the flow until he can't anymore and then throw live grenades at the issue.

Where I take issue with Helena is the way she just treats Eddie like he should Do Better without actually ever sitting down and having a serious conversation with him. She lectures, she hovers, she makes snide comments, and most of the time she's RIGHT but she doesn't get through to Eddie because her approach is ... atrocious. And she knows it, but she never fucking tries a different way.

And it stinks of Chris being her do-over kid. (Son, specifically, since we don't know anything about her daughters.) She could never bridge the gap and she's disappointed with the way Eddie's life has panned out but this time, this time the kid she's raising appreciates her, listens to her, wants her around, so she keeps holding on to that.

She's not evil, and she's nowhere close to being the worst parent among the 118 mains, but she's a perfect portrayal of the kind of parent who gets away with being cruel because she's just so focused on making sure her grandson's needs are met. She's the kind of parent who will turn a conversation on its head because she feels like she's being unfairly attacked when the conversation wasn't even about her.

I have sympathy for her: her son, the boy who had to be responsible for too much, too early, left her with a new daughter-in-law and a new baby while he fucked off to do what he thought was the right and correct thing to take care of his family. She lived that with her own husband, so I'm sure her priority has been Chris for a LONG time. But just like Eddie (like mother like son) she's done zero learning or growing from the time Eddie's been taking care of Chris on his own.

I think she's fascinating. I want to shake her by the shoulders until she's mildly concussed. I want her to consider that maybe they ALL need fucking therapy. I want her to look at her son and see an adult who is struggling and could use her support and guidance instead of her couched disapproval of anything he does. I would love for her to make a tenth of the effort with Eddie that she does with Chris.

She makes me so mad I wanna scream, but I think the thing that annoys me most is how the show treats her like an obstacle for Eddie to be able to raise his son, when they COULD be trying to figure out how to make it work together.