#if anyone has anything to add or argue against PLEASE tell me I want to talk about him more and see other peoples opinions

[bluecornfrito]

Continuation/Last part of Team Tamlin rant. previous ^

acotar/acomaf/acowar spoilers (hella)

So Tamlin traps Feyra in him home, she has a panic attack and gets taken. When Feyra is taken to the Night Court that last time, it’s the last time we see Tamlin until the end of the book. There are several months where we go without seeing him. In this time, Feyra heals from her traumas and past. She learns to accept herself and starts the journey of loving herself. All while, Tamlin is now considered a villain. He’s talked about very poorly. There is not a single person who says anything good about him. (Except Lucien). Which, yes, is completely fair. Feyras experience was awful and her way of reacting and coping is justified. I love her.

We don’t know what’s going on with Tamlin, so let’s fast forward to the end of the book. At the end of the book, the Inner Circle and Feyra travel to the King of Hyberns castle. They break in and find the cauldron. They attempt to destroy it, that backfires (obviously), and then it’s revealed to be a trap (who coulda thought). Hybern does his lil villain rant. Then a big reveal plays out.

Tamlin and Lucien have made a deal with Mr. Hybern in order to get Feyra back (what! What! What!) . This makes absolutely No Sense. Tamlin, the High Lord of the Spring Court, making a deal with The Worst Fucking Person In This Series? A man who goes against ALL the morals that Tamlin had previously expressed he disagreed with? What? This doesn’t feel right. And then Hybern bring in Feyras SISTERS? This whole scene is fucking crazy and I could go on about it but that’s not why we’re here.

When Hybern states what he’s going to do to her sisters, Tamlin fights back. He tries to get him to stop. “This wasn’t part of our bargain”. Woah, alright. Basically Tamlin made a bargain with the King of Hybern to get Feyra back. Oh, and to break the bond between Feyra and Rhysand, the bargain that ties them together. In the beginning of this scene, Tamlin talks to Feyra roughly, likes he’s ordering her. He tries to grab to, to get to her.

Rhysand has made a name of himself, especially to Tamlin. High Lord of the Night Court. Ruthless and mean. Murderer, manipulator, liar. Rhysand is Not a good person and there’s No Way Feyra wasn’t being controlled by him in that moment. There’s no way that the High Lord hasn’t hurt her. Why wouldn’t he? Was it just to get at Tamlin? To steal the woman he loves, his bride? That doesn’t matter, because Feyra is being manipulated by him, there’s no doubt.

When Feyra was taken that last day, we stop seeing Tamlin. Tamlin becomes a different person when that happens. He kills the sentries that we’re on duty, even though they had nothing to do with it. He destroys his home, throws a giant tantrum. Because it Happened Again. This time, under his roof. Without him there. Even with the shield. He had Just Left. Did he believe Alis when she told him what happened? Did he truly believe that Feyra was having a panic attack, a severe trauma response to what He did? I don’t think he fully understands, but eventually he realizes that he Was driving her away. Bargain or no bargain. He was pushing her away, sheltering her from even himself.

He becomes a different person, someone who would do Anything to get back the woman he loves from the Villain of the story. Rhysand was his villain. That was his goal, to see Rhysands head on a stick for taking her. I could guess and guess about what had even DRAWN him to Hybern in the first place but, I don’t want to do that.

Tamlin would do anything, even making a deal with someone who was Evil, because that was the only person who could do it. Who could break that bond and free Feyra from Rhysands grasp.

Because that wasn’t her. Whoever had sent that note, it wasn’t Feyra. She was illiterate. And the Night Court definitely didn’t have any reading classes. She was in danger, she was being hurt and he couldn’t do anything. So he does something. Something that would bring her right to him, and he could grab her and save her. He was saving her.

Then he sees her. He doesn’t believe that’s her, not for a second. That wasn’t Feyra, that was someone with a shell of a mind being controlled by Rhysand. He tries to fight against the sisters being harmed. He tried to get to Feyra at every chance. And then light fills the room, coming from Her. Then it goes away and she’s looking at Him. Not at Hybern or her sisters or Rhysand, but at Tamlin. She looks so scared, lost and-

She says his name and there she was. The woman he loved. The woman who saved him, he had finally saved her. Then the bond was broken and they were free to go home. Home to the Spring Court. Where he wouldn’t push her away. Where he’d let her be involved and know what was happening. He wouldn’t isolate her like before.

… And then Feyra literally destroys the Spring Court and I have a Hefty amount of mixed feelings about that but, anyways. His court falls apart around him. His sentries are becoming hostile, Ianthes role was falling apart and she was becoming untrustworthy, and Feyra and Lucien’s relationship is different than before. The night he found them in Lucien’s room, after she had looked at Tamlin all night. The rumors of them sharing a tent while out at the wall. She was distant from him, even though he was trying. He was still doing the wrong things. He Hurt Her. He let his anger slip and the shield that had protected her before, wasn’t there. He hurt the woman he sought to protect.

Then, it comes crashing down. Hyberns soldiers were dead, Ianthe has a crushed hand, and Feyra and Lucien were gone. His sentries turned on him and they left. Feyra was gone. Ianthe gets her memories back, and he learns the truth of what happened. What She had said.

I think this is when he truly fully realizes that Feyras mind had always been her own. That she had told the truth. And he walked right into her trap. She snared him and now all he had was a broken Court to show his failures.

Hybern and his army enter. Tamlin can’t stop it. He can’t stop anything Hybern is doing. He had nothing, no one. No one was on his side. He hated Hybern. He hated everything the man was. But he had to work with him, where else would he go? He’s already viewed as a traitor, because of the bargain and that his home is now the base for Hybern.

He still had his morals. No matter how broken he was, how lost and confused, he knew that what Hybern was doing and planning for, was Wrong. That it Couldn’t Happen. So Tamlin takes a risk. A big risk.

The meeting scene was a lot and it just made me sad to see how Quick they all were to turn against him. He gave them valuable information, said he was on their side. How was it fair that the high lords seemed so quick to forgive and forget everything Rhysand did the past several centuries, but turn against Tamlin within the span of a year? He was Trying.

Okay, I’m rambling and losing my point so I’ll wrap this all up with my take away.

I think Tamlin is a Good Guy, with good intentions and goals and morals. Nothing he does throughout the series screams EVIL! He’s a guy with very bad coping skills who everyone is quick to draw as the villain. The way they describe him in Silver Flames, that he never leaves his beast form, that he stalks and prowls the Spring Court. It makes me sad that his character got misinterpreted so badly. We see his goodness when he gives over information, he see his goodness when he saves Feyra at the camp, we see it when he comes to help in the battle, when he revives Rhysand (who has been HIS villain the entire time) because he finally understands that Feyra has a different life and path. And he tells her to just be happy? And after all this he’s STILL labeled as an awful guy by Everyone.

I just desperately need a Tamlin redemption arc and I hope we see some of it in SJM next novel (which I have theories about AH)

Okay, these posts were a dumpster fire of ramblings about how I feel about Tamlin and what was going through his head. There’s more I can say but there’s other things I’d like to talk about.

[mynameismckenziemae]

Unbroken

Part 3

(previous chapter here, next chapter here)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x You

Summary: You and Bradley sneak away from the wedding early for some fun, but your past gets in the way.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! A little bit of smut. Please note: This chapter has heavy and possibly triggering topics for some-unplanned pregnancy, miscarriage, discussion of abortion, asshole ex-boyfriends. Feel free to send me a message if you’d like me to clarify anything before reading!

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You're more than a lover

There could never be another to make me feel the way you do

Oh, we just get closer

I fall in love all over every time I look at you

I don't know where I'd be without you here with me

Life with you makes perfect sense

You're my best friend

You can’t help but smile as you watch Jake and Charlie dance to their first song as a married couple.

Who knew your brother’s wedding would be one of the happiest days of your life?

You clap with everyone else as Jake dips Charlie at the end with a sweet kiss, before turning around with a sigh to take a seat when the DJ invites other couples to the floor when another slow song starts. It’s one of your favorites.

But there’s a tap on your shoulder before you can even take a step.

“Will you dance with me?” Bradley asks.

“I’d love to,” you smile, taking the hand he offered and letting him lead you out on the dance floor.

Your mom spots the pair of you and wiggles her brows. Your dad rolls his eyes at her as he spins them away, winking when you mouth “thank you”.

“Your mom is a hoot,” Bradley chuckles.

“She’s something,” you mumble, breath hitching when he pulls you closer.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” He murmurs in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Only once or twice. I like hearing it though.”

“Can’t help it,” he smiles, meeting your eyes. “I’ll tell you every day if you give me a chance.”

You return his smile before resting your cheek against his chest and close your eyes, fighting the unease that tries to creep in.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Two hours later your feet need a break from all the dancing you’ve done. You press a cold beer to your heated cheeks as you take a breather under the stars.

“Hey! I need you and Bradley to leave now so you can go to our house and decorate for when we get home,” Charlie says as she walks up behind you with a beer also in hand.

You look at her confused before your eyes widen. “Oh shit, Charlie. I never even thought of that! I didn’t realize you’d want-“ you start but she interrupts.

“No, I don’t actually want you to”, she laughs at your puzzled expression. “I’m just giving you and Bradley an excuse to leave soon. That’s what I’m going to say if anyone asks where the two of you went.”

“I can’t leave now,” you argue, even though it does sound like a good plan.

“You can and you will. I’m the bride and what I say goes,” she says, clinking her bottle to yours. “Now finish your beer with me and go…if you want,” she adds, ultimately giving you the choice.

“That does sound nice,” you agree before taking a long pull.

“Thought so,” she smiles, taking a drink too.

You give her a big hug before you head back into the tent to find Bradley. “Have fun on your honeymoon, I don’t want to hear about it when you get back,” you laugh, giving her one more squeeze before pulling back to look at her. “Love you, Char. I’m so happy to call you my sister.”

“Love you too,” she sniffs, pulling back to look you in the eye. “Text me tomorrow. I gotta know if those mustache rides are really what they’re cracked up to be.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“So, my place or yours?” Bradley asks, quirking a brow as he starts your truck. He’d offered to drive since he’d only had water for a few hours now.

“Mine, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like to see where you call home,” he replies, reaching for your hand in the seat between you.

“It’s small, but it’s just me so I don’t mind,” you say, weaving your fingers through his.

“Do you like living in the country?” He asks as he turns down your road.

“Mhmm. I enjoy the quiet,” you nod your chin to the little white ranch-style home. “It’s this one.”

“Cute,” he observes as he pulls into your drive.

“Thanks. I figure I can always add on if I need more room,” you muse, hopping out. He picks up your bag and his from the backseat before you get a chance to reach for it. “I’d rather do that than move.”

“I can see why you wouldn’t want to move. It’s beautiful out here. I’ve never seen the moon so big, or so many stars. Wow,” he says softly as he takes in the endless sky.

“If you look long enough you’ll probably see a shooting star. We can sit out here on the swing if you want?” You offer as you unlock your front door.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he murmurs, still looking up.

“Not sure what you all have in your bag, but I’m sure I’ve got some sweats here of Jake’s if you want to change,” you say, pushing the door open.

He nods, loosening his tie. “I’m ready to get out of this suit.”

You find him something of Jake’s to wear that you stole when he was deployed before heading back to your bedroom to change.

You groan in relief when you take off your tight strapless bra after slipping off your dress, putting on silky shorts and a sweatshirt after.

You can’t hide your smirk when Bradley's eyes drop to your bare legs when you come out of your room.

“Beer?” You ask as you open your fridge and bend over to reach them on the bottom shelf, knowing your shorts are riding up.

His gulp is audible before he responds.

“Please.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A few minutes later you find yourself tucked into Bradley’s side on the porch swing with his arm around you.

You see a streak across the sky at the same time he does.

“There! There was a shooting star! Did you see it?” He asks excitedly.

“I did. I’ve seen thousands but it never gets old,” you say, finishing your beer and setting the bottle on the ground.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen one,” he says, still smiling.

Your fingers find his jaw and you turn him towards you before you lean in to press your lips to his.

Crickets chirp in the background as you kiss him slowly, sweetly beneath the light of the moon.

“Cold? Do you want to go inside?” Bradley murmurs as his hand runs over your leg, feeling your goosebumps.

You’re not, but your bed is much more comfortable than the wood swing beneath you.

“Let’s go,” you say, rising before reaching for his hand.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

He spins you into his chest once you pass the threshold of your room, kissing you with more intent than moments before.

He stops only to shuck his borrowed tee but you stop him before he can pull you back in for another kiss. Your eyes hungrily taking in his sculpted chest and stomach.

“Holy shit, Bradley,” you murmur, reaching out to trace the muscles that tense under your touch.

“Tickles,” he breathes, inhaling sharply when your fingers dip lower to the top of his sweatpants.

Your eyes flit back up to his. “You’re gorgeous,” you whisper, kissing the scars on his neck and face before returning to his lips.

Your hands push his pants down and you groan in unison against each other’s mouths when you palm his erection through the thin material of his boxer-briefs.

“That is never gonna fit inside me,” you say pulling back with wide eyes.

He chuckles and steps out of his pants that are pooled at his ankles and backs you up until your legs hit the bed. “I’ll make sure you’re good and ready first,” he says lowly and full of promise as he pulls up your sweatshirt.

Your eyes close after it’s off, revealing your bare chest to him.

“I knew they’d be perfect,” he whispers in awe, immediately cupping a breast in each hand. “I’ve been wondering what they’d look like since I first saw you.”

“Yeah. Wednesday was a long time ago,” you laugh, rolling your eyes.

“No,” he shakes his head before he meets your eyes. “Since I saw you at our graduation.”

“3 years ago?” You ask in disbelief.

“Yeah. You were stunning in that yellow dress. I wanted so badly to talk to you but Jake and I weren’t exactly friends.”

“You hated each other,” you agree. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“You’re hard to forget,” he replies, kissing you again as he lays you back on the bed.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Your back arches and your hands fly in Bradley’s hair with a gasp when Bradley sucks a nipple into his mouth, teasing the other with his fingers; alternating back and forth until you’re panting beneath him, rubbing your thighs together for some friction.

That earlier unease rears its ugly head when he goes lower, kissing a path down your stomach.

Chet never did that.

“What are-oh. You don’t have to do that,” you say, propping up on your elbows as he begins to untie your shorts.

“Want to,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your thigh, pausing when he sees the hesitant on your face. “Unless you don’t like it?”

You flop back down and cover your eyes with your arm. “I uh, wouldn’t know.”

“What?”

“My ex…no one’s ever done that before,” you reply, still hiding your face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bradley says, coming up to lay beside you. He gently moves your arm away so he can look you in the eye. “He should be the one embarrassed, not you.”

“Well, we were only 17,” you reply with a sigh.

Bradley’s brow furrows.

“Maybe we should talk,” you sigh, reaching for your sweatshirt, feeling suddenly exposed in more ways than one.

“Sure,” Bradley replies, pulling his sweatpants back on before he lays down at your side.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“I’m sure Jake, or Charlie, or my mom…someone’s told you that I have no interest in relationships, right?” You ask, turning on your back to look at the ceiling.

“Yeah, Charlie mentioned something,” he replies, surprising you by moving closer and placing his hand on yours.

“Well, it’s not true. I am…interested in being in a relationship, but I am absolutely terrified,” you say with a heavy sigh.

“I was a senior when I started dating Chet. He was popular, funny cute, the star running back…everything a 17-year-old girl wanted. He asked me to homecoming and we were inseparable after that. I fell fast and I fell hard; so did he. I know we were young, but it felt like l more than puppy love. He was my first kiss, my first love and he took my virginity the night we graduated. It was awkward and painful, like most first times are,” you say, turning on your back to look at the ceiling.

“We only had sex a few more times before he had to leave for school; he had a scholarship playing football. A few weeks went by and I missed my period,” you take a deep breath before you continue.

“I called Charlie’s mom-Lisa had gotten pregnant with Charlie when she was in high school, so I felt like she’d understand. I was too scared to tell my mom yet. Lisa brought over a test, told me the directions through the bathroom door, hugged me while I sobbed when it was positive, and held my hand when I told my parents. My mom and dad were so supportive and didn’t try to persuade my decision, which was to keep it. My dad even cried at the ultrasound,” you smile at the memory.

“And Chet? Was he supportive?” Bradley asks softly, already knowing the answer.

“No, he wasn’t,” you shake your head. “He was so angry. It scared me, he’d never yelled at me like that before. He told me to get rid of it before he accused me of cheating on him since there was no way it was his because we’d used a condom. Then he stopped returning my calls and texts; just ghosted me. To say I was devastated is an understatement. I was going to be a mom at 18, I lost the love of my life and I could see my dreams of becoming a veterinarian circling the drain.”

“Whatever you say next…it’s not going to change anything,” Bradley tells you, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

You nod before your eyes fall closed. This part hurts the most. “I was so stressed out; I couldn’t eat, I was exhausted but couldn’t sleep. A few weeks later I started cramping, and then the bleeding started. I lost the baby.”

“Oh Em,” he whispers. It kills you to hear tears in his voice.

“I was such a mess. The doctor told me it wasn’t my fault but I still find myself wondering if it was. I felt so guilty, but relieved; and guilty that I felt relieved. I became a shell of the girl I’d been. I decided to go to school, to pretend I was okay. I still remember Chet’s face when he saw me in the courtyard; the way he did a double take. He smiled; fucking smiled when I told him I miscarried. I slapped him across the face so hard it echoed,” you say, lip twitching in satisfaction to that memory.

“I haven’t dated or been with anyone since, I haven’t even wanted to until I met you,” you say, turning your head towards him finally, but still unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sure this isn’t what you had in mind when I asked you to leave with me.”

“I didn’t have any expectations for tonight. I was just excited to spend more time with you,” he tilts your chin up. “I really like you too, Em. I’m a patient man and you’re worth waiting for.”

You give him a small smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Hours go by as the two of you talk about anything and everything; what it was like growing up with Jake, the way Lisa became your second mom, how you still think about your baby; if they would’ve been a boy or a girl. In return, he tells you what it was like losing his parents so young, the crazy antics his adopted uncles got up to, and the paralyzing fear he felt before Jake saved his life.

“Oh God, what time is it? We talked all night,” You say through a yawn when you notice light starting to filter through the curtains.

“5:53,” Bradley replies, failing to stifle his own yawn as he checks his phone.

“Do you want me to take you back to your hotel?” You ask, exhaustion catching up to you quickly.

“I’m pretty comfy here,” he says eyes already closing, but he fights it to look at you to ask, “If that’s okay?”

You nod before snuggling into his side, still smiling when sleep pulls you under.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: Well…now you know why Emma is the way she is. What do you think?

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs.

Tagging (please let me know if you want to be added/removed!):

@mamachasesmayhem

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@lexixstewart

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd5

@charmedkim

@k-k0129

@bellaireland1981

@hookslove1592

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[fuckyeahficrec]

Superbat (Clark Kent / Bruce Wayne)

I will add more in a near future

Please, give me suggestions for this blog and submit your own fics

These are listed by size - wordcount

This might as well happen - by NoLifeOnMars - Rating: Mature - Words: 1227

Summary:  We all know that one tumblr FMK post, this was written ages ago but I wanna post it now,

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Bruce wanted to die, or at least that's how watching the Justice league play fuck marry kill felt.

Damn Superman for suggesting Bruce Wayne,

Damn Superman for getting the leaguers drunk enough to play fuck marry kill,

and Damn Superman for describing Bruce's ass like it was a piece of art in front of him!

I’m Freaking Out, Clark. - by piratesquared - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 1511

Summary: Bruce Wayne learns of his own feelings for Superman. They hit him like a train. He is not chill about it on a roof.

Space cellmates - by BoredomBeckons - Rating: General - Words: 2393

Summary: Superman is kidnapped by aliens whilst conducting an interview as Clark Kent. He feels guilty about the poor civilian who got caught up in this mess with him.

“Mr Wayne. Please take this seriously.” “I take everything seriously Superman. I’m Batman.” “Look, it’s obvious you don’t believe me…” “I do believe you.” “…but I really am Superman, and I want you to know that whatever happens I will do my best to protect you.” “Since your powers are being hindered it seems to me that I’ll be the one protecting you.” “Right,” Clark sighed, not bothering to argue. “Because I’m Batman.” “Sure.”

Citrus - by elizabethgee - Rating: Explicit - Words: 2855

Summary:  He’s being grumpy— he knows he is— but for some reason he can’t stop. Maybe it’s the crowds of people with their too strong perfumes and whispering, plotting voices. Maybe it’s the fact that he sticks out amidst the royalty of Gotham with his plain clothes and worn shoes. Maybe it’s the man leaning against Bruce— touching him, and laughing in his ear, and giving him bedroom eyes… // Wherein someone flirts with Bruce, and Clark gets jealous.

Leap of Faith - by Arwriter - Rating: Not Rated - Words: 3472

Summary:  Bruce knows this is how things will always go. No matter what he does, no matter how good he tries to be, no matter how safe he might feel for a few precious weeks, it will always come back to this.

It's his fault, anyway. He should have known better than to make Superman so angry.

Baser Instincts - by Batsymomma11 - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 3602

Summary:  Clark and Bruce aren't exactly together, but they aren't exactly...not either. Clark finds himself struggling with a vicious jealous-streak when it appears he and Bruce aren't on the same page.

part of the job description - by soetry - Rating: Explicit - Words: 3620

Summary: Clark attempted to flatten his hair and adjust his pants before he looked up, arching an eyebrow. "Do bodyguards usually do that?"

Where Clark is working undercover as Bruce Wayne's bodyguard and Bruce reaps the benefits of it.

[it’s not] obligation - by TheCourtSorcerer - Rating: Explicit - Words: 4053

Summary: He raised a gloved hand to grab Clark’s chin and tilted his own head back, looking down his nose at the Kryptonian. He pitched his voice lower when he spoke again, voice more of a murmur than anything, “I’ve wanted to help you for a very long time—” Clark took a sharp, aborted breath. “—so, tell me what you need, so I can.” A moment passed in tense silence, before Clark slumped down, his shoulders sagging.“You.”

Or 

When Clark discovers a new part of his Kryptonian biology and runs away to the Fortress without a word to anyone, Bruce tracks him down to help him through it.

All It Takes is a Nudge - by gaysandberries - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 4060

Summary: Bruce Wayne has a new lover -- or so Clark Kent thinks. Things at the Watchtower just got a hell of a lot more awkward. 

In which Batman tries to protect Superman, and Superman keeps misunderstanding.

how to confess your love, as written by clark kent - by scarletazure - Rating: General - Words: 4106

Summary:  1. Take a step back. Be rational for a moment, and take stock of the situation. If you truly think that you are romantically in love with this person, you should tell them. However, it is important to consider the gravity of your words—ask yourself if there’s a realistic chance that they love you back. Realistic? Well, you’ve never done realistic all that well anyway. The head and the heart, Gotham and Metropolis, shadow and light, yin and yang; that’s a role reserved for him, not you. The idealist. The optimist.

In other words: Clark Kent writes a WikiHow article on How to Confess Your Love to Your Best Friend (who also happens to be Batman).

Rainy Days - by Mawiiish - Rating: General - Words: 4197

Summary: He nearly drops his jaw at the sight that greets him. He expected- well, he doesn’t really know what or who he expected but Bruce Wayne hauling himself through his window soaking wet was not it. OR: Clark's been hurt in a fight and Bruce Wayne - not Batman - shows up at his bedroom window.

Packing Nonstandard Equipment - by susiecarter - Rating: Explicit - Words: 4590

Summary:  Caution: handle with care. The unexpected and unlooked-for (but not, in the end, unwelcome) complexities of banging Clark Kent.

Injuries - by Lord_Izhan04 - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 4934

Summary: Clark did not usually meddle in other people's affairs, except in four cases:

- The person in question explicitly asked for his help.

- It was part of his job as a reporter.

- It was part of his job as Superman.

- Or Clark simply noticed that the person needed the help, even if they didn't ask for it.

The last case was related to Bruce Wayne, of all people. He hadn't expected to see him so wounded underneath his expensive suits, almost in a way that was unbearable to the human body. The last thing I expected was for Batman to be the cause of those injuries. Clark, with all the pain in the world, had to put a stop to it. The League was going to make a mockery of this for a long time to come.

All About The Little Things - by candlelight660 - Rating: Explicit - Words: 5154

Summary: Bruce sighs, which is more of a moan than an exhale, and uses all of his force to grab Clark’s wrist. It would bruise sourly on others but it is just pressure for Man of Steel. At least that’s what Bruce thinks. Clark, on the other hand, must be thinking something else.

Clark has a thing for Bruce's strength. That's it, that's the whole fic.

Bruce Wayne doesn’t get jealous - by Mawiiish - Rating: General - Words: 5207

Summary: Bruce Wayne does not get jealous. Even if he did, it wouldn't be over Clark. They're friends, nothing more. So why does he feel like screaming every time Clark mentions Lois' name? See, it’s not that Bruce doesn’t get where Jay is coming from. He is not the first of Bruce’s children to point out that Bruce has a certain… soft spot for Clark. Even Bruce is willing to admit it himself; Clark is his friend. His best friend. A good man, who cares for his family and Bruce’s too. Someone who would do anything Bruce ever asked. Clark is Bruce’s best friend, who just so happens to be dating Lois Lane. 

Bruce Fucking with the JLA - by littlegh0st - Rating: Not Rated - Words: 5403

Summary: Bruce finds endless amusement in using his public Brucie Wayne persona to mess with JLA.

Or, Bruce and Clark's developing relationship as seen through snapshots of Bruce being a little shit.

all these love lines are taking shape - by fishfoods - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 5543

Summary: Clark's stare drops as soon as he sees the flowers, his expression shifting towards something Bruce would call both confusion and endearment. "Are those-" Clark pauses, eyes flickering back up to meet Bruce's. "You brought me roses?"

(They're not so good at the whole relationship thing-but they're trying. And that's what counts, right?)

Peculiar Perks - by IcedLemonade - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 5949

Summary: Clark has always been different from humans. Why shouldn't he be? He's an alien after all, one of the two remaining kryptonians in the universe. Apart from the very obvious differences (laser eyes, unbreakable skin, etc.), Bruce has come to notice a few other subtle yet baffling characteristics of Clark over the course of dating him. This is a collection of some moments where Bruce seriously doubts his sanity because his boyfriend is an alien and does weird alien things. Sometimes on accident, other times just to annoy him for fun.

All of You - by Leo_Our_Queen, Trinket - Rating: Explicit - Words: 6562

Summary:  Clark has been hiding something and Bruce is determined to get to the bottom of it. But once Bruce learns what it is, he just can't help himself from invading Clark's privacy. The whole ordeal leads to serious confrontation but an understanding revelation.

don’t push me (cause i’m close to the edge) - by LinguisticJubilee - Rating: General - Words: 7539

Summary: Kara huffs out a breath in frustration. “Every Kryptonian has a heartsong. And they’re beautiful, but when you listen to one on its own it feels like something is missing. It’s like...they have something like this too, right?” She gestures outward impatiently, and Bruce forces himself not to flinch at her casual use of they. “Only they have words written down instead.”

“Soulmates,” Clark says, his voice strained.

The word hits Bruce like a bullet through the lung. He keeps his face perfectly relaxed, his heartbeat calm and regular, as he realizes (too late, he's always too late) that he should have expected this all along.

Alright - by Big_Gay_Bitch - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 8220

Summary:  When Batman sets off his emergency beacon after being late for a meeting Superman gets worried, but when he and a few others head into Gotham to see if they can help the run into a vigilante they've never met before. What is he doing in Gotham? Where did all these other vigilantes come from? And, more importantly, will Batman be okay?

fewer mysteries in the world - by soetry - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 8457

Summary: “Don't you still need to pick a date for the wedding?” grumbled Bruce.

“Pick a date?” said Clark cheerfully. “I was planning on taking you.”

Banana Muffin - by Mawiiish - Rating: General - Words: 8856

Summary: Bruce is poisoned at yet another gala and he calls for the only person he can trust enough to get him to safety, secret identities be damned. So why is he being taken away by some stranger and where is Superman?

Bruce frowns and tries to focus his swimming vision. Something isn’t right. This isn’t the bright blue and red he’s been mentally preparing for. The material is all wrong and it feel scratchy brushing against his skin. Superman’s suit isn’t scratchy. It’s smooth and comforting to touch; whatever he’s touching isn’t. This isn’t Superman, this is that stranger and his weird suit. It’s- it is- “So ugly,” Bruce mumbles at the offending greyish brown fabric he’s got his cheek pressed against.

Traditions tricks and turkey - by somagni - Rating: General - Words: 9282

Summary:  Every year Bruce Wayne and his family participate in the turkey trot a charity run that raises money for the Gotham youth center. It's been a few years since Clark has gone to cheer his friend on. Somethings never change, somethings should.

Dilectus Meus Mihi - by Mithen - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 10934

Summary:  Clark Kent has lost all his memories of being Superman, and Bruce Wayne must retrain him in the use of his powers. But his super-powered identity isn't all he's forgotten...

how to preform an exorcism (five easy steps!) - by soetry - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 10956

Summary: “Bruce,” Clark finally said, brokenly. “I love you.”

Oh no, thought Bruce. He's possessed.

Fake Empires - by copperbadge - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 11730

Summary:  Bruce Wayne can't possibly be as dumb as he acts, and Clark Kent isn't as ordinary as he appears.

Human - by JustAJellyfish, nabawrites - Rating: Mature - Words: 11966

Summary:  Clark is tired of watching Bruce walk around in pain. So naturally, he does something about it.

I only want you - by Mawiiish - Rating: General - Words: 13034

Summary: Bruce discovers a passion of Clark's that he never expected and now he can't stop thinking about Clark's hands in his hair. Good thing his stylist is on maternity leave. He's a creature of habit, he can't just find another stylist to fill in; he doesn't trust strangers - what's a poor billionaire to do?

Bruce can’t stop thinking about it though. He tries to get rid of the entire Clark-cutting-hair phenomenon, but it becomes an obsessive thought in his mind. He dreams of Clark’s hands in his hair, sliding down his neck, scratching at his scalp and while it is nowhere near the dirtiest dream he’s had of Clark, he still wakes up hard and wanting. The humiliation should be punishment enough, but of course it doesn’t stop there. When has Batman ever done anything half-heartedly?

The Benefits of Optimism - by 1863 - Rating: Explicit - Words: 14560

Summary: It's a noteworthy week when getting body-swapped isn't the most surprising thing that happens.

Talk Science To Me - by profoundalpacakitten - Rating: Explicit - Words: 15011

Summary:  Clark has a problem. A can't-have-sex-because-of-his-indestructible-body problem. Bruce has yet to encounter a problem he can't fix by applying enough brainpower to it.

a lot - by susiecarter - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 15299

Summary: Bruce and Clark deal with kryptonite, get a coffee, are undercover, share a bed, face off against some tentacles, have feelings about holograms, and dream together.

Or: six times Superbat didn't quite happen, plus the time it finally did.

kissing, kissed - by susiecarter - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 16300

Summary: Bruce and Clark work together, make use of x-ray vision, maintain an unexpectedly necessary pretense, get the better of magic, get the better of "science", buddy-breathe—and then, finally, kiss.

Or: six times Bruce and Clark kissed for ~reasons, plus the first time they did it just because they wanted to.

Beneath The Mask - by Mawiiish - Rating: Teen and Up - Words: 22303

Summary:  Clark attends a masquerade where a handsome stranger saves him from a handsy lady. The handsome stranger isn't a stranger at all, although he acts like it. Bruce Wayne flirts with him like they don't know each other, but Clark would know that chin anywhere; would know that heartbeat from anyone else's. So why is Batman really flirting with him?

Relinquishing Control - by foxyk - Rating: Explicit - Words: 25508

Summary: Superman worries that if he lets go he'll injure his partner. Batman knows better.

Batman worries that if he lets someone else in, he'll hurt them. Superman knows better.

AUs (Alternative Universes)

Fade Into a Dream - by rotasha - Rating: Mature - Words: 17105

AU - Soulmates

Summary: Bruce Wayne has always known he’d end up with Clark Kent. He knows because Clark Kent shows up in his dreams.

Bruce and Clark’s soulmate relationship, told through their shared dreams.

Series

Lightning and Time - by Mithen - Words: 9697 - 2 Parts (Both Teen and Up)

losing you - by starshotplagues - Words: 22336 - 2 Parts (1 is Explicit, 2 is Mature)

unofficially official - by Tootired4life - Words: 26422 - 15 Parts (1, 8, 11, 12, 14 and 15 are General, the rest are Not Rated)

[its-actually-minicika]

Hey bestie! How do you think hw aemond, jace and hogwarts aemond,jace, and aegon would be with reader who gets horrible menstrual cramps? And weird food cravings too if you can (I just smeared some tomate paste on a rice cake after spending some time in fetal position thanks to my cramps). Feel free to add any other character you like. I'd love see your thoughts on this. Thanks in advance 💙 Love you

The Five Boyfriends - Collect Them All

Pairings: Jacaerys x Reader, Aemond x Reader (bookcanon and showcanon), Aegon x Reader;

Warnings: None! This is very much crackfic material

Author's Note: I hope you're feeling better and aren't cramping too much, Heart Nonny! Please have some fun headcanons in these trying times <33

For the sake of this post, you're in an etablished relationship with all of them, okay? Okay.

The "Harshest Winters" Gang:

☆ Jacaerys Velaryon (Strong) ☆

He would 100% join you in your insanity when it comes to weird food combinations

HE'S LITERALLY SO SO ATTENTIVE

Jace would do anything to ensure you're comfortable.

You need to lay down? Let him bring you some more pillows--

You need more pelts so you get warmer? He's already on it.

If you tell him you're in pain due to your cramps, he highkey panics like no tomorrow

HE IS NOT EQUIPPED FOR THAT, OKAY? HE HAS 4 YOUNGER BROTHERS, HOW COULD HE KNOW WHAT THAT ENTAILS FOR YOUR HEALTH AND HAPPINESS

Calls seven maesters in before you can even tell him your discomfort is not life and death related;

They end up giving you something to aid your heavy flow, though, so it's not all that bad.

"I love you so, so much, my sweet love. I just want you to know that."

"Jace, calm down, I'm not dying."

Will keep a hand over your lower abdomen and gently apply pressure to take the edge off your pain;

His skin is literally burning up all the time (a Prince of the "blood of the dragon", indeed), and he gives the best hugs in the Seven Kingdoms.

Feel free to use him as your personal radiator any day at any time!

Will drop anything to stay in bed with you, and will encourage you to just relax while he does all the work.

He'll nonchalantly ask his mother tips on things he can do for you while you're going through your monthly cycle.

1000/10 he broke the wholesome scale long ago.

"I could never imagine going through such a thing. And every month...? I know lords who faint at the sight of a small cut - you must be the bravest person I know, my love."

Stan Jace he just loves you so much and he will do anything for you, even if you don't ask him to.

☆ Aemond Targaryen ☆

I hope you like period sex 😍😚

No. I'm not joking.

He read ten books on the subject of female anatomy, and each recommends sex as a way "to ease the maiden's pain"

He lays the question as something that would just help you feel better

But let's face it

This mf is gross and would have you 24/7, no matter the state you're in

Just tell him he can have sex with you and he's up and ready to go

Please???

Please tell him you want to have sex with him.

Would still eat you out

1000%

Even if you're against the idea, did you hear him stutter???

"You know better than anyone else how much blood I've seen throughout my life. I won't faint at the sight of yours. So just lay down and let me take care of it."

"Nope. No way."

Homeboy is flabbergasted when he sees you eat your corn bread with bitter wine and mustard.

He still supports you, although he greatly encourages you to not try anything too weird, so that your stomach pains don't become worse.

He gets really pissy if you ignore his advice.

But he'll just whisk your hair away from your face as you eat, and gently caress your skin.

He made the mistake to argue with you while you were on your period once, and he instantly regretted it.

Never again, he learnt his lesson.

If you're clingy with him during your monthly blood flow, Aemond will drop everything just to stay in bed with you.

He's an attention whore, and just wants you all to himself.

Your period is his excuse to keep you attached to his hip, and ignore all his royal duties to take care of you.

"Just so you know... If you were swelling with my child, you woudn't have to go through this."

The HotD Main Three:

☆ Jacaerys Velaryon ☆

Jace is an absolute sweetheart, in any universe I insert him in;

Much of his behaviour with you will be the same as his HW counterpart;

He will skip class with you, so that you may relax in his dorm, no questions asked.

He puts some elevator music on his IPhone while you guys chill in bed;

Gets you some of those nifty magical pills that subdue your cramps and give you a lot of energy to start your day right.

You have any cravings?? ALRIGHT BET

He sneaks into the Kitchens and makes you whatever you want;

Homeboy's a chef - he will bibbidi bobbidi boo you anything, just say the word.

Hypes you tf up and tells you you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen, if you feel bloated or uncomfortable in your skin.

Once again, you can't go wrong by choosing Jace.

☆ Aemond Targaryen ☆

Because you guys don't get to see each other much throughout the day (different schedules and all that jazz), Aemond sort of figures out you're on your monthly cycle when he escorts you from your Dorm to the Great Hall.

You don't look bad, or behave any differently - but your expression slightly changes while you guys descend the stairs.

And he instantly knows you're hurting somewhere.

He questions you sharply on your current state and doesn't falther even once.

"Aemond, relax, I'm just on my... thing, you know?"

"Thing?"

"... My period."

"... Oh."

He carries you down the stairs (he won't accept a no for an answer), and constantly asks if he can do anything else for you.

His momma raised him right, and he has an older sister - unlike Jace, he knows exactly what he's doing, and revels in showing you that.

Can you see? Can you see how good he's being for you???

Doesn't that make you think he'd be the perfect husband for you?

Cough cough

Lowkey gets overprotective of you and keeps a hand over yours the whole night.

He gives a lot of nasty stares to any student who eyes you funny while you're doing your lil food combos;

If you offer to make him the same thing you're eating, he's accept without a second thought.

Even if the food is TERRIBLE, he'll put on the best mf performance of his life to make you feel good.

"This is really good."

"Really?? Would you like one more slice?"

"... Sure. I'd love one more."

... Fun fact: Hogwarts!Aemond has a very sensitive stomach.

By the time he reached his dorm with his usual large steps and impassive expression, the green of his tie matched the hue on his face.

He's a simp tho

So he'd do it all over again, if it meant seeing you so happy

☆ Aegon Targaryen ☆

You're on your period? :D

So you can have unprotected sex with him, is what he's hearing

No? That's not what it means????

OH COME ON MAN

Many many many bad jokes

He won't stop making them, no matter how many times you tell him to chill

"I'd dip my fry into your ketchup packet."

"OH MY GOD-"

Side eye

SIDE MF EYE

He gives you many stupid pet names that make you want to roll your eyes at him, but that end up making you laugh instead;

They include: "my lil red tube paint", "my lil arts and crafts project", "my squishy jelly filled doughnut" etc.

Aegon is a foodie, and his dorm is perfectly placed for certain nightly escapades.

He'll break into the Kitchens with you at midnight, and make as many food combos with you as you'd like;

If you feel like skipping class, he'll stay in with you lmao

But tbh he skips class almost every day, so is your period really the reason he dipped on Herbology?

[eddiebrockx]

"Disrupting Canon"

⚠️SPOILERS for Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse and Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (primarily the latter). Like serious spoilers. Please don't engage if you don't want any!⚠️

Incoming mini-essay! (TL;DR - Miguel O'Hara as a character has much to say about grief and guilt, and how it can harm people.)

After watching Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, I am filled with thoughts!!! So many that they can't all be contained here, and I'll probably have to write an actually essay later--however, I wanted to share some of my feelings and ideas about Miguel and his role in the story, specifically.

Miguel is obviously an antagonist to Miles throughout the story. And, I would actually argue that he is an antagonist to everyone, including himself. He's cynical, he's controlling, he projects his fears onto everyone, and he is terrified of change. The scene where he tells Miles that he is the "original anomaly" is a obvious display of all of that.

Despite this, Miguel still isn't a villain; he isn't evil, and he isn't doing any of this because of pure malice. Instead, he's doing it out of fear. Because Miguel is also an anomaly (at least, I think so). Miguel has more in common with Miles than he does the other Spiders, which is why I think he blames Miles for so much as the "original anomaly."

We know, as the audience, that Miles shouldn't be blamed for anything that has happened. It is not his fault that the Spot brought over a radioactive spider from Earth-42; it's not his fault that he got bit; it's not his fault that the original Spider-Man dies; it's not his fault that the Spot became the Spot. Any logical person can see that Miles didn't have any control over these situations; so why can't Miguel?

He can't because Miguel believes that Miles will cause and experience exactly what he did. We know that a major part of why Miguel is so uptight is because when he disrupted canon, his entire world disintegrated before his eyes. And, its a logical fear; as he said himself, is it worth saving one person over ending the world? But this is where things get complicated: does "disrupting canon" actually cause the world to end?

Peter B. Parker, for example, has a daughter. Jessica Drew is pregnant. None of the other Spiders seem to have children, so wouldn't these be an example of canon being disrupted? Pavitr's world still seems to be around (I'm assuming), after we saw canon disrupted. Gwen's father LITERALLY quit his job, meaning he didn't die, and therefore also disrupted canon. But...nothing happened to Gwen's Earth, even though she was gone for several months.

And, the cherry on top, if Miles is an anomaly, how come nothing has happened to Earth-1610 and Earth-42? Why did nothing happen when the original Spider-Man died?

All of these things, I would like to add, are also very different to what Miguel did. Miguel abandoned his world for a new one, taking the place of a version of him that died. He was in the wrong world. And this reminded me of a certain antagonist in Into the Spider-Verse: King Pin.

Throughout the entire movie, King Pin desperately tried to bring another version of his family into his world. In the end he failed, whereas Miguel succeeded. Of course there are major differences, still. King Pin was entirely selfish and didn't care what consequences came with getting his family back, whereas Miguel thought he wasn't hurting anyone. But Miguel still managed to hurt people, and that's what seems to linger for him. The guilt and grief that he caused the destruction of an entire Earth.

And he can't see past it. Despite the many examples we see throughout the movie that go against what he believes, he can't see beyond his own experience. And if he were to admit that Miles could be correct, his understanding of what happened to himself has to be completely reevaluated. All of that grief that he has suppressed, all of the work he's done to "fix" things; all of that changes.

This is what makes Miguel so compelling to me. I don't think what he said to Miles was warranted, but I can understand where he comes from. The other Spiders can too, because a lot of them have already experienced their canon events. It's what makes this conflict so complicated, so interesting.

Of course, we can't be 100% sure about everything until we see what happens in the third film, but it's all interesting nonetheless.

Ultimately, all I want to say is that I love this series, and I can't wait to see where it takes us next!

[neptunesdyke]

hello! ✨i’m obsessed✨with your commentary on jennifer’s body. (is it out of line to ask to read it?? 👀 if so, please disregard.) you’re just so right about this! would love to hear more about your thoughts on the matter❣️

omg im so sorry this is MONTHS late i’ve just been extremely depressed this year and it’s been a bit. continuously overwhelming for me but i can’t explain how much i appreciated getting this ask!! i want to pursue a career in writing and teaching about horror and feminism so anyone showing interest just!! means the world to me!!

anyway,, long overdue analysis under cut….

TW: discussions of SA and murder/violence against women (lemme know to add anything else please)

the main points i was arguing were: the differences between the soundtrack and the original score for the film serve as tools to elevate the comedy and horror respectively while also subverting ideas of femininity, and how they interact with the actual narrative/narration itself.

(also there r many feminist readings of this film obviously so this isn’t going to look into that but it did serve as a basis for my paper/analysis)

the relationship music has with the film in general begins with the title coming from the Hole song of the same name. both the song and film are rape/murder allegories for a girl named jennifer, and anyone familiar with the song before seeing the film is given an indication into what is to happen to jennifer. the title itself centres the story on jennifer’s actual body, what it means to the plot, how it is viewed, by who, and the power jennifer has by wielding it. the title also removes a layer of personhood from her as this is not a story about jennifer, but her body, again relating back to the origin of the title which tell the viewer jennifer is bound to be another body, another victim, another girl to become just a body at the hands of men.

speaking of men, music is central to the plot as it’s a band who commits the act for fame and glory. they also sing to mock jennifer as they (attempt to) kill her and their song replays throughout the film, something jennifer cannot escape even after escaping them. and i think placing musicians as instigators tells the viewer like hey..maybe pay attention to the songs in this..they might tell u smth

and this idea is reinforced throughout the film so many times. a great and early example in the film is when I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance with You by Black Kids plays during needys introduction of her friendship with jennifer. the song is a one sided love song that has spanned since childhood, which begins hinting at needy and jennifer’s deeper relationship.

also fun to think like whose jealous of who and whose the friend left behind in the sandbox so to speak

this subtext found via the soundtrack is also used often for levity or humour. most of the soundtracked scenes are shot at school, often the brightest, and funniest compared to the dark homes and roads of devils kettle. scenes that are supposed to be scarier such as needys encounter with jennifer after the fire, and when she later jumps on needys car, have an original score. it lets the viewer know when the humour is being set aside in favour of horror, which helps balance the films tone and guide the viewer.

but also serves to trick the viewer. the scene that actually made me write the paper originally was when jennifer approaches jonas on the football field in her very 2000s mini skirt while Scared Heart by It Dies Today tracks over the scene. it made me like. cackle out loud but also had this moment of this is really smart. it’s playing off of megan fox’s sex symbol status with gratuitous camera work, playing into humour with the song choice to leave an image that’s funny bc it’s juxtaposes what people know. why is this pretty girl strutting to heavy metal? it’s l the deeper implication of what’s stored inside jennifer, not only hidden by her physically or by the narrative, but in the expectation of what the audience will take from this scene.

it banks on people finding it funny and maybe a bit strange so when she goes full cannibal on him in the woods it’s definitely a shock but..maybe not really! the story plays a lot with what ppl expect, something horror comedies are known to do obviously, but needys narration also does this too

the one time the viewer gets to hear jennifer’s side in all of this is when she explains what happened after the fire, how she was sacrificed and the powers she gained. yet needy constantly interrupts her—interjecting herself into the story as the true narrator but also removing a layer of Personhood from jennifer just as the title does.

she cannot even tell her own story without needy, the OST, soundtrack or narrative structure controlling her in some manor and i think that’s a rlly powerful use of sound on physical and thematic levels!

okay this is kinda a random point to end but i don’t wanna keep going forever so yeah this isn’t everything and tbh if i do end up editing my paper properly i’d b down to share!! and again tysm for sending this in and for ur patience omg <33

original post

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Hi, I have been with my boyfriend for 5 years and I was always expecting him saying something, that I could never forgive him. Because I grew up with psychological abuse therefore a reality in peace never seemed realistic.

And today he did. And now I don't know what to do. He already said in the past, that he doesn't think I have trauma ("saying you have trauma is a little exaggerated") which I was angry about, because he knows that he only knows my parents in their good mood. He can't imagine what happened and can't say if I have trauma. But I thought "Eh, once I find a therapist, they'll very likely agree and then I can show him the proof."

I was having a lot of issues with guilt for basic things like eating lately and after much overthinking I decided to tell him, because I want him to know (a bit) what it looks like inside of me. That was like 2 weeks ago. And today we argued and he yelled at me that "With all your guilt and feeling like the worst person you are just making yourself the poor victim. You are comfortable being the victim all the time." And while it makes no sense to me because in my eyes I make myself the culprit for everything, it did hurt much. I don't think I need to tell you why and how badly. And another part of me chanted "Finally!" Because it happened what I expected for years.

I love him much and he's been there for me a lot and helps me so much with my mental health. But with this I learned that I can't trust him to not use my emotions and truths against me. I don't know what to do. I am afraid to talk about this with him because I fear he will enforce this statement. And what for? I don't know what to do now..

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry to hear about what happened. You shouldn't need to prove to your boyfriend that your trauma is valid, and it's not up to your boyfriend to decide whether or not you have trauma. While you deserve to have a partner that believes and supports you, your trauma doesn't need your boyfriend's confirmation to exist.

It sounds like you've attempted to communicate to him about your experiences with guilt, especially how it affects your eating, which is a great way to establish transparency. But it sounds like he didn't take this well and it escalated into an argument where he said some hurtful things. I'm curious to know if he apologized.

Communication and trust are two essential elements to a healthy relationship that often affect each other. Without good communication, trust can begin to dwindle, and without trust, communication can become less appealing. This can create a vicious cycle. Feeling like you can't trust him with your emotions and experiences can certainly strain your communication with him. In a healthy relationship, you shouldn't feel afraid to express these things. I talk more about what a healthy relationship looks like here.

It's complicated to be in a relationship that is sometimes loving, supportive, and even helpful in navigating your mental health, but also threatens your mental health in some ways as well. It can be hard to move forward in a relationship like this where some damage has already been done. It's ultimately up to you what you would like to do, but it's important to consider how this relationship may be impacting your mental health, and what kind of people you deserve to surround yourself with.

If anyone has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[tavwrote]

short summary of the absolute chaos in here: thanks to kazuo’s own problems that he refused to get help for, leon now needs: so much therapy, like three different medications, and someone to tell him that his daddy issues aren't his fault. please help him.

kazuo is an incredibly sentimental person, but not very open-minded. he, like his son, latches onto people and crumbles if they leave. when his wife died shortly after childbirth, he hoped leon's existence alone could remind him that a piece of her was still there. leon has her eye color, he has her natural hair color, even his face shape is similar and i can explain why that's an issue in a second. while leon resembles his mother, his mentality and emotions are surprisingly similar to his father. kazuo protects his thoughts and emotions from others by keeping things locked up and he can't stand change. meanwhile, leon watched how badly that affected his father and attempted to do the opposite. he didn't want to turn out like that or be alone, so he pushed himself into several circles of people and insisted they come to him with their problems. this tactic, though, still ended up in him locking away his own feelings so he can properly help other people. he has to be open to change so he can better understand and help people. and that's where he and kazuo clash.

kazuo locks things away and isolates himself from people so he won't get close to anyone else and therefore it won't hurt as bad if he loses them, and leon locks things away and surrounds himself with people so he can make up for how lonely kazuo indirectly made him feel. kazuo hates change, leon can't stand monotony. polar opposites.

so, back to how leon resembles his mother. when he first started wanting to stand out for attention from others ( which also resulted from being emotionally neglected at home ), he demanded that things begin to change. the thing that started the spiral downward was simply him deciding he wanted to dye his hair. it wasn't that big of a deal to leon, but kazuo was so determined to keep what few scraps of victoria he had left that he insisted leon reconsider. and leon can't handle being told "no", so he did what any rebellious kid would do and he argued back. kazuo refused to explain his reasons why, leon demanded to get an answer, and neither would budge at first. finally, though, they made a deal: kazuo would take leon to get his hair dyed if he started listening more. and leon, with no intention of listening more, agreed so he could get his way.

along with that, he started skipping baseball practice, which didn't sit well with his dad either. in his mind, leon was going against everything victoria would've wanted for him ( which isn't true for several reasons but that's a topic for another day ) and never stopped to think if what he wanted for leon was what he actually needed.

his decisions went against what kazuo wanted over and over again, and tensions kept rising. leon kept changing, and kazuo kept failing to adapt. they both just kept getting more and more bitter, and finally, about a year later it all boiled over into the first time leon ever raised his voice at someone else in anger. kazuo hit him with " i didn't raise you to act like that, " leon retaliated with " implying you raised me properly at all? ", etc etc, and that is what gave leon the idea to change his name entirely. up until then, leon was also a kazuo, so he didn’t even hesitate to rub salt in the wound and change one more thing out of pure spite. he was perfectly aware that if anything would truly hurt, it would be to just ditch the only thing he and his father had in common.

he didn't intend to keep the name, but " leon " was a better alternative to " kazuo, " and it stuck by accident. it finally gave him a sense of individuality, and he could thrive on the spite as a bonus.

that said... i do want to add that, despite kazuo's behavior, he did truly love his son. he did genuinely want the best for leon. at least, at first. eventually it did turn into him just wanting to get the upper hand, but it wasn't always like that. both of them did and said things that hurt the other, but they could have been fine had they just sat down and actually listened to each other. leon still wouldn't change who he was, but explaining his side would in turn lead kazuo to realize just how horribly the way he acted actually affected him, and they both could have ended up apologizing and forgiving each other.

unfortunately, they never do get that chance to make up because kazuo—as well as leon's aunt and uncle—all succumb to despair and end up dying in different grotesque ways so. that definitely weighs on leon's conscience!!

[the-little-ewok]

Shift

Shift Steven Grant X F!Reader  (Implied future Marc Spector X F!Reader) Rating: T+ Wordcount: 3700 (ish) Warnings: Angst, nightmares, anxiety, mention of blood, and of course… FLUFF Summary: Marc calls you to calm down Steven after he has a terrible nightmare. But something isn't quite right with Marc either…

A/N: This takes place between Tilt and Balance when the reader is still only dating Steven. It can be read as a standalone fic. (It may seem like a slightly sad ending for Marc but if you read Balance it fixes it..) I am not a system, nor do I know anyone who is a system. This is based purely on my research, the show, and the information contained within the comics. Please forgive any offence.

_________

"Are you alright?"

"Marc?" You groan, rolling over in bed to look at the clock, holding the phone to your ear and squinting against the brightness of the flashing numbers. "It's the middle of the fucking night."

"I'm aware of the time. Are you alright?" 

"No, Marc, I'm not alright. You called me in the middle of the night!" You snap with a sigh. "What do you want?"

"I want you to come over." His tone is impatient, clipped and to the point, the same way he always is with you now. At some point, you must have said something wrong, did something wrong. At some point something shifted in him and gone was his annoying teasing, his occasional flirtations comments, the tentative friendship you had begun. You wish you knew how to fix whatever had broken, but when you ask, he always softens and sighs, "you didn't do anything wrong." 

Except you must have. 

"What do you mean?" You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, tiredness still dragging your eyes down heavily. If Marc was well enough to speak to you, then you're sure Steven was at least ok. They did share the same body, after all. 

"Exactly what I said. Can you come here? Please. I wouldn't be calling if it wasn't important." The please is what really catches your attention. You can't remember the last time Marc said please about anything. It has you sitting up in bed, your heart fluttering with anxiety. 

"Marc, what's happened?"

"Steven had a nightmare, and he's stressed out. He won't listen to me that you are fine. I had to take over to stop him. He's got himself worked up. He thinks you might get hurt." Marc explains exhaustedly, and you can so perfectly picture his frown of worry. He's probably leaning against the kitchen counter, still dressed in Steven’s oversized sleep clothes, agitated and unable to keep still. You've seen him that way before, the first time you'd fallen asleep on Steven’s couch, waking in the middle of the night to him banging around in the kitchen. He wouldn't tell you what was wrong, so you spent the night sitting up, quietly watching him, while he quietly tried to ignore you until he finally went to bed.  

"I can't come to you right now. I'm not having him run through the streets like a mad man. Will you come here?"

"Okay," you nod, throwing back the covers and getting up, "I'll be there soon."

"Do not walk. It's dark, and I can't protect both of you right now." Marc instructs, before he suddenly goes quiet, hissing something in the background, at Steven you assume. Normally you would have argued with him, repeated once more that you can take care of yourself, and don't need anyone to protect you, but there's something in his tone that makes you stop, something you can't quite place. Maybe it's just that he's already worried. You don't want to add to that, for Steven’s sake. 

"I'll be there soon as I can."

You're already in a cab when you realise you're still in your pajamas. 

~

Marc answers the door and your heart drops into your stomach. His clothes are drenched in sweat, his curls messy and wild, his frown deeper than ever, his jaw holding so much tension it must be painful. Even so, he looks relieved at the sight of you, which in itself stirs worry in your belly. 

"Thank you for coming." He lets you into the apartment, shutting the door and redoing all the locks.

"Must be pretty bad for you to have called me over," you frown, hanging up your coat. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I've told him it's just a bad dream, but he insists that you aren't ok, and I'm struggling to keep him under control," Marc grits out. It's all too clear exactly what he means. Usually the switches between them are seamless, the blink of an eye, and they change, but it's like he's physically having to hold Steven back — fists clasped at his side's, his whole body rigid, his breathing carefully measured. You wonder how bad this nightmare actually was for something like this to happen. 

You aren't sure if Marc's strength breaks, or he just lets Steven take over, but before you can react you are bundled up into his arms. 

"Are you ok? You're not hurt, are you? He didn't hurt you?" Steven lets you go and starts patting you down, spinning you and checking you for injuries. It would be comical if you couldn't feel the way his hands are trembling, and see the way he has tears in his eyes. 

"Hey, hey, I'm ok." Grabbing his hands, you hold them tightly in yours, forcing him to stop obsessively checking you over. "Who would have hurt me? Marc?"

"Khonshu," Steven swallows hard, his eyes flickering over your face, evidently still checking that you weren't about to collapse with some grievous wound. "We should have come to you. I was-i was coming to you. Marc wouldn't let me. I tried to rescue you. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your heart breaks as his tears break free, his whole body trembling as he mumbles out apologies.

"Steven, it's ok. I'm ok," you reassure him, throwing your arms around him and cuddling him tightly. His fingers claw into the material of your shirt, holding you to him as he buries his face in your neck, his tears hot against your skin as he suddenly dissolves into heartbreaking sobs. 

"Oh, Steven,” you whisper softly, holding him tighter as you stroke his back comfortingly. “Must have been some nightmare. I'm ok though. I promise none of it was real."

"I know. I know," he mumbles against your skin, his quiet sobs finally dying down as he seems to realise that you're here and safe. "Marc said the same, but Khonshu… I didn't… It was so real. It was just like before…with Marc. When we… I always thought it was a dream." He lets you go to run a trembling hand through his hair. 

"Just like before. I just woke up somewhere, and you were there and he…the blood and gooey bits…" he trails off, shaking his head before he gets a look of determination in his eyes you've never seen with Steven. He's practically panting with anger as he grits out the words, "I swear he lays one bloody finger on you I-I…  I'll… I'll do something to him! He's having a laugh if he thinks he can come anywhere near you."

"Ok, ok, calm down." You rub his arms gently, waiting for his breathing to even out a little before you continue. "Khonshu hasn't come anywhere near me. And even if he did, I'm sure you and Marc would get to me first. I know it's scary, and it seemed real, but it wasn't. I'm right here, I'm ok and nobody is coming after me."

He seems to come back to himself a little, taking a deep breath and giving a nod at your words, gently taking your waist to pull you close against him again.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. Sorry, I'm acting absolutely bonkers, aren't I?" He frowns with an almost bitter laugh. "Bloody acting like a lunatic. I'm sorry Marc called you. I didn't mean to worry you."

"You turning up at my door in the middle of the night would worry me more," you smile reassuringly, cupping his cheek and gently wiping away the remnants of his tears. 

"Yeah, suppose that's right innit. Wouldn’t want to piss your neighbours off either with the knocking," he pauses, tilting his head as he looks you over properly this time, "Hang on, are you in your pyjamas?" 

The heat spreads out across your cheeks, and you tug at the edge of your top, suddenly very aware of the mess you must look. 

"Marc panicked me and I sort of ran out the door, and well," you gesture down to your attire. "Didn't really think about it. I know I'm not very presentable."

"No, no," Steven repeats softly, "nothing wrong with you. You look amazing. You always do."

He takes your hands in his and squeezes gently, leaning his forehead against yours as his eyes flicker closed, "You look much better than you did being eaten alive by dead birds."

You decide not to tell Steven that his words are hardly a complement, deciding some things are better left unsaid in these circumstances. 

"Doesn't sound like that would be pleasant," you whisper, gently squeezing his hands as his thumbs stroke the back of yours. 

"It wasn't," he sighs quietly, before he finally lifts his head from yours. 

He lets go of one of your hands and cups your cheek gently before he leans in and presses his lips to yours. His kiss isn't like the ones you've shared before. It's nothing like the sweet tentative kisses he gave you on your first date, it's nothing like those that had a needy edge to them as you made out on his sofa earlier this week, nothing like the quick kisses hello and goodbye he gives you each day. There's an edge of desperation to it, a need to be intimate, to be close with you, to confirm you're real and safe. You give him all the time he needs, all the reassurance he wants in your kiss. You tangle your fingers in his curls as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against him. 

When he finally pulls away, he keeps your body tight against his, burying his face in your neck. You feel his eyelashes brush against your skin as he closes his eyes. 

"I don't want to go back to sleep," he mumbles against your neck. "Never going to sleep again."

You can't help a tiny smile at his stubbornness, which is rare in its appearance, especially in your presence. 

"Ok you don't have to, at least not tonight. I'll make us some snacks, and we'll watch movies instead for a while, yeah?" 

He hesitates a minute before he finally lifts his head from your neck, his eyes wide and hopeful. 

"You'll stay a bit? You really don't mind?" 

"I really don't mind," you assure him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm here as long as you need me to be."

~

It's the quiet padding across the floorboards, and the absolute lack of conversation that alerts you to the fact it's Marc, not Steven, who returns to you after he disappeared to get changed.

You keep your back to him as you quietly finish filling the bowls you have laid out with crisps and sweets, before you pause, biting your lip nervously. 

"You know, I think maybe you were a little bit worried about me too?" You tease softly, trying to ease the tension that suddenly seems to be sucking the air out of the room. You turn to face him, but he's not looking at you, he's staring out of the window at the full moon. It bathes him in a soft glow, outlining the slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, his deep set frown. You ignore the eruption of butterflies in your stomach, convincing yourself it's just because he looks like a version of Steven, your boyfriend, the man you've fallen in love with. Marc is a world away from Steven, and your heart is already given away, yet it still beats a little more unsteadily when he turns to you, his eyes glinting almost black in the dim lighting as he speaks. 

"Does it matter?" 

He tilts his head and takes a deep breath, going back to staring out of the window, continuing without waiting for you to answer. "Steven wanted you here, and he wasn't listening to me. Like I said, I didn't want him running around the streets. It was just a nightmare."

You get the distinct impression he's lying, but you don't say it. Your relationship with Marc is often strained enough without you tipping the boat all the way over. Yet it still knots in your belly, the impression he's hiding something from you. And when he sighs, running a hand through his hair, the knot only tightens painfully. 

"You know, we have the same nightmares sometimes? It's like being a character in someone else's dream. I couldn't control it or stop it. You were there and he just…" he trails off, shaking his head, deciding not to give you details. "Steven keeps it from you to keep you safe but, it scares us half to death that Khonshu…it doesn't matter. It's just a stupid dream."

Us. 

Your heart feels heavy suddenly, as though a weight dropped into your chest at his words. Whether he cared about you or didn’t, whether he admitted it or not, Marc was scared. Any threat from Khonshu was the least of your worries when you have the two of them to consider. 

You don't remember your feet taking you there, don't remember coming around the breakfast bar, stepping over the pile of books Steven always leaves in the way, the ones he's going to move, eventually. You're standing in front of Marc, your hand gently cupping his cheek, before you've thought about it at all.

You open your mouth, but then his eyes slide to meet yours, and all the words dry up. You stand still, his skin warm under your palm, his eyes holding yours, moonlight shielding you from the darkness. 

"Marc," you try again, your voice quiet and unsure, dropping your hand, suddenly conscious that you probably shouldn't have taken that step, "you don't need to worry about me."

"Steven needs you, so it's my job to worry about you by default," Marc responds, his tone flat as he takes a step back from you. It hurts a surprising amount that he doesn't want to be near you, and not for the first time you wish you knew what you had done wrong. 

"Will you stay with him tonight? Steven doesn't want to ask you to stay the whole night in case you say no. So I'm asking for him. You can sleep in our bed.”

You nod in agreement, and keeping your movements slow, take Marc's hand in yours. He stiffens against your touch, and for a second he gives you an almost pained look before his usual scowl takes over. Before he can pull away from you again, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. 

"Thank you, for looking out for Steven," you pause as you squeeze him gently, "and for worrying about me."

At first, he makes no reaction at all. He stands stiffly as though he's scared to move, before hesitantly, he finally hugs you back, pulling you close against him. It's familiar and different all at the same time. You're used to hugging Steven, you're used to the way he feels in your arms, but Marc holds himself differently, and suddenly it's like you're learning how to fit together all over again.

Marc leans the side of his head against yours as he sighs your name softly against your hair. It sends heat skittering across your skin and butterfly's erupting in your belly. Marc never uses your name. He never has, and you always thought he never would. You've been Steven's girlfriend for a long time now. He's always referencing you that way. The soft way he says your name shouldn't stir up the storm of feelings inside you that it does. You bite them down, trying to convince yourself your feelings are just getting mixed up. You already know you're in love with Steven — whole heartedly, hopelessly in love with him. You know this must just be a reaction to the fact in a way he is Steven, even though everything about him is nothing like Steven at all. 

"I'm glad he has you," Marc whispers softly. 

You open your mouth to answer, but he's already gone. You feel his arms go loose for a second before they squeeze you tight enough to steal the air from your lungs. 

"Oh, this is progress! You hugged! I told you Marc would soften again eventually. He just needs a bit of time, don't he? Now you can both go back to being friends! I mean, I don't know what he's been sulking about anyway. Think he's just been in a bad mood for well…ever. But I think we are over it now and things can go back to how they were before, yeah?" Steven babbles excitedly in your ear. 

"Yeah. I hope so." you nod quietly as he cuddles you warmly, still lost in the confusion of your feelings. If Steven notices anything is wrong, he chooses not to say anything, but it's a long time afterwards that he finally lets you go.

~

When you open your eyes there's light streaming through the window, you're wrapped in warm blankets, sleeping on soft pillows that smell familiar, and yet unfamiliar. There's music coming from the kitchen, quiet and drowned out by Stevens' out of tune voice singing along. 

"Everyday I wake up, then I start to break up…" 

You smile, sitting up in the bed where one of them must have put you. You remember feeling sleepy, curled up on the sofa, your feet over Steven’s lap, his arms resting on your legs. You remember closing your eyes for just a second, then, nothing.

"Steven?" 

He pauses singing at your voice, spinning around to look at you. He looks like he could do with at least three weeks’ worth of sleep and a comb. You suspect that he kept to his promise and hasn’t slept again all night. You make a mental note to make sure you try and get him to nap at some point today. 

Steven stares at you silently, making you fidget uncomfortably, reaching up to smooth down your hair and try to make yourself less sleep tousled. 

"What?" You ask softly. He blinks and shakes his head, giving you an apologetic smile. 

"Sorry! Just…bit mad innit? Seein' you, a girl, in my bed. I mean, you know, sleeping in my bed. Not just…sitting on it. I mean, you're sitting on it now, but you were sleeping. Not that I was watching you sleep, either! Not being a creep or anything," He gives a nervous laugh as you climb out from under the covers, padding across the hardwood floor to him.

"You telling me Marc's never brought a girl back here?" The question is out of your mouth before you realise that you don't actually want an answer to it, feeling the pinpricks of jealousy at the back of your neck. Though you have no right to deny Marc his own life and love, the thought of someone else in bed with them turns your stomach.

"Not since…not since we met you actually," Steven answers with a frown before he shakes his head. "Or any I remember, anyway."

His confession was an interesting one, but you decide not to examine it further. More than likely, you suspect Marc didn't want to upset Steven if he accidentally woke up with another girl in his bed. You can only imagine the way he might react and the utter panic that would ensue at having to explain it to you. The radio continues to play as you watch Steven make the tea, leaning on the counter to watch him affectionately. 

"Do you want to dance?" Steven asks suddenly, turning to face you.

"What?" You giggle in surprise as he turns the radio up now that you're awake. He holds out a hand to you, his grin as bright as it was the day in the museum when you invited him for a second try at your date. 

"I really like this song. Dance with me?" He asks again. Giggling, you put your hand in his.

He grins, gently pulling you against his chest, holding your one hand up with his, as he gently grips your hip with the other. Steven clearly has no real idea how to dance, although he makes a good go of some type of waltz around his flat, singing along to the radio, his voice out of tune and interrupted by bouts of both your laughter. 

"I like this, dancing with you," he smiles, holding his arm up for you to spin underneath it. "I like waking up with you here. I like doing everything with you."

"I like doing everything with you too," you smile, pressing a quick soft kiss to his lips as he pulls you back into his arms, swaying gently to the final bars of the music. "You know I’m happy to sleep over anytime you want me to,” you hesitate for a moment before adding, "or not sleep… if you’d prefer to do something else in your bed?"

He's quiet for a long moment, although his gentle swaying never stops as he flusters for a moment, and you worry you might have overstepped an unknown boundary. Steven had always taken things slowly with you, allowing you to adjust and take your time with everything, and while you might have come close to taking things further more than once, neither of you had seemed to have the confidence to take those steps before. Now you worry maybe you were asking for something Steven wasn't ready for.

Eventually, he swallows hard and nods a little too enthusiastically at you, the tips of his ears turning pink. 

"Alright, yeah. Yeah," he repeats with a nod. "Wouldn't mind that actually, you know, being in bed with you…not sleeping."

You bite your lip, feeling heat creeping across your own cheeks, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest as his fingers tighten just a fraction on your hip. 

"I wouldn't mind it either," you manage to whisper.

Whatever had passed for a fleeting moment between you and Marc last night was nothing. It couldn't be anything when your heart felt this full of love. There was no room in your heart for anything but the way Steven smiles at you. There's no room for anything but the way he kisses you. There's no room for anything but Steven when leads you back to his bed. 

It's hours later you find the post-it note, scrawled in hand writing that's not Steven's, shoved deep inside your jacket pocket. One sentence that starts the shift in your relationship with Marc.

Thank you for the hug xx

-----

Taglist reblog to follow

Please be so kind as to comment and reblog if you enjoyed. Feedback keeps writers writing!

[intothemysticfic]

Summer Rain (NCT 127)

M.list

Taeil brings you a cup of tea, pulling you from your reading as you sit in the window seat. The pitter-patter of raindrops on the window is a soothing soundtrack. “Thank you.”

He shrugs off the gratitude. Setting your book aside, you request, “Join me?”

He does, sliding into the space between you and the wall. He pulls you back against his firm chest, arms wrapping loosely around you. It’s the perfect way to spend the day.

Johnny comes in the door to your place, and you’re waiting for him. “Forget something?” You question him. He pouts, hair plastered to his forehead, dripping water into his face. He looks pitiful.

You offer him the towel in your hands, but he doesn’t take it. Instead, he bends forward so you can easily reach his hair. Laughing, you gently dry the soaked strands. “You should probably get out of those wet clothes too.”

It’s an innocent observation but pulls Johnny’s lips into a smirk. His hand moves to his shirt, and before you can protest, he’s pulling it off. “Oh,” he notes, “My chest is wet too. Will you help me dry off?” You resist rolling your eyes, playing along instead. 

Taeyong warns, “You’ll catch a cold,” as you leave the cover of the coffee shop awning.

“A little rain never hurt anyone,” you argue, twirling on the empty sidewalk while giggling. Your childish joy must be contagious because soon, he joins you laughing brightly as he spins you around. Then he’s pulling you close, holding you securely as the two of you sway, a silly dance in the rain.

Yuta observes you closely as a clap of thunder seems to shake the house. The loud sound pulls a gasp from your lips. His eyes are keen as he takes in your reaction. “I don’t like storms,” you murmur pitifully.

He can tell, but he takes the admission as an invitation to comfort you. “Come here.” He holds out his arms. You fall into him quickly, basking in his simple comfort and gentle distraction.  

Doyoung is waiting for you when you get off the bus. You’re pleasantly surprised to find him standing on the sidewalk with an umbrella.

“What are you doing here?” You question, not even trying to hide your pleased excitement. He shifts the umbrella over you, matching your smile.

“It’s raining,” he says, “And you always forget your umbrella.” 

Jaehyun ruffles your hair with a towel as you laugh. “I’m sorry about our date,” he says like he’s worried you’ll be terribly disappointed that your plans got canceled because of the rain.

You aren’t.

Pulling his hands from your hair, you shift closer to him, suggesting lowly, “I can think of another way to spend the day.” 

Jungwoo requests, “come outside” when you answer the phone.

“But it’s raining,” you complain.

He chuckles, “I know.”

You find it hard to deny him anything, and that’s how you end up heading out of your door with an umbrella in hand.

“Hey,” he greets, and you parrot him, curious. He grins like a manic as he takes your umbrella, letting it drop to the ground. Before you can complain about getting wet, he’s kissing you. “I’ve always wanted to share a kiss in the rain with someone special.” You suppose a little water isn’t worth complaining about.

Mark has just recounted his day to you over the phone. “You work too hard,” you tell him, wishing he would take some time off but knowing he loves what he does too much.

“What about you?” He asks, “Have you eaten?”

You hesitate to tell him, knowing he’ll scold you, before admitting. “No. It’s been raining all day.” You both know today’s your typical shopping day, so there isn’t really anything in the house. Quickly you add, “I’ll go get food once the rain stops.”

You’re a little surprised when he lets it go. The conversation naturally moves on before the two of you say your goodbyes. The knock on your door is unexpected. You’re shocked to see Mark on the other side, grinning sheepishly, soaking wet with a takeout bag. 

Haechan dramatically wails, “I’ll catch a cold.”

You scoff, breathless as you stop running - it’s useless; you’re already soaked. “It’s summer.”

He wails louder. You walk faster, trying to put distance between you both, so people don’t think you know him. He chuckles when he realizes he’s embarrassing you. “I’m wet!”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll find something for you to change into when we get inside if you shut up.”

“You don’t love me,” he accuses as you punch in the code to the apartment complex door. You don’t dignify the accusation with a response. If you weren’t head over heels, you wouldn’t put up with his antics. Once inside, Haechan drapes himself over your back. “The rain was chilly. Warm me up.”

[inkandpen22]

Always a Ploy

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Y/N is often used as a ploy to catch the perpetrators and it drives Spencer crazy 

A/N: I’m always adding new one shots for Reid so if you’d like to be tagged lmk!

Masterlist

Y/N

I sway my head from side to side, playing music in my head to distract myself from the fact that I'm freezing. 'Stand and wait on the side of the house' Hotch ordered. 'I'll give you the go-ahead soon' he promised. Ten minutes later, Reid and I are still waiting for the said go-ahead. At least Reid gets to be in normal clothes for the desert at night. I'm yet again being offered up as a ploy and in Morgan's mind, a door-to-door saleswoman would wear a dress when the weather is supposed to be low sixties, the wind not included. 

"Honey, you're killing me. Are you sure you don't want my jacket?" Reid offers again for the third time in the last five minutes. 

"Yes." My breath escapes between my teeth. "I'm fine. Plus, we won't have much time once Hotch gives the signal." I shake my limbs to remain warm. 

“Wait for my command," Hotch announces into our earpieces. "We lost sight of him in the window. We suspect he’s headed to the basement.” 

I shake my head. “Screw this. I’m going in.” 

“No, you’re not!” 

“They’re children! One more minute with that monster is another minute of trauma!” I move to step around the house and toward the front door. 

Reid slips his gun back onto his belt and grabs my wrist to stop me. He yanks me back and pins me against the cool wooden panels of the house. I open my mouth to argue and he covers my mouth. He whispers frantically, “Baby, baby, listen to me. I can’t let you in there!" I wiggle in his hold. “Stop fighting me.” 

“Y/N, you may proceed," Hotch announces, giving me the go-ahead. 

Reluctantly, Reid has no choice but to let me go. His hand falls from my mouth slowly, but he keeps me pinned and stares into my eyes warningly. “Don’t do anything reckless!" 

I smirk and slip out from under him. “You should know me better than assume I’d listen.” 

“Y/N, I’m serious!” He whispers, aggravated. 

“So am I." I send him a wink as I step out from beside the house. 

The lights from the living room pour out of the window onto the dry dirt yard. I take a minute a toss my hair to one side and yank the dress down to reveal more of my chest. 

Spencer

I watch from the shadows as Y/N adjusts herself to speak with the suspect. I hate it when she does this. I understand that Hotchner and everyone agrees that it works, but their opinions don't make any less uncomfortable. My own girlfriend is being used as a ploy, expected to flont herself to earn the trust of serial killers or rapists. 

Morgan appears beside me and squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t get hostile, Boy Genius.” 

“She’s doing it on purpose,” I grumble, gesturing to Y/N. 

“I know, I know.” He sighs. "But she's just doing her job. It's all pretending to her too," he assures me. "She's into you, man." 

Y/N

I ring the doorbell and rock on my heels, making the panels of the porch creak. Suddenly, the door swings open to reveal a worn-down middle-aged man in dirty overalls. 

“I don’t want to join any religion," he grumbles. He goes to slam the door shut, but I block it with my hand. 

“Neither do I,” I voice softly with a smirk. I step forward to stand on the threshold. “But maybe you’d like to sit down and talk about your finances? Have you been keeping track of where you’ve been putting your... assets?” I scan the man up and down with my eyes until I meet his gaze. 

Spencer

As we listen to Y/N flirt with the suspect, Morgan chuckles quietly next to me. 

I elbow him in the stomach. “It’s not funny.” 

“She sounds like Jessica Rabbit,” he jokes, only irritating me more. 

There's creaking on the porch, followed by the front door squeaking shut. He's let her in. 

Y/N

The place is an utter wreck. There have to be at least a dozen cats, hundreds of old newspapers scattered everyone, and it smells of feces. I sit down on the worn and ripped plaid couch next to the old man. I wear my best smile, though inside I'm screaming. 

“Now, let’s begin. What bank do you currently use?” I ask, gripping my fake leather finance binder. 

The man shifts closer to me. “Chase.” 

I note now that he's missing at least five teeth. I nod. “They are great to their members, but we something broader... larger in size," I chose my words intentionally. 

Abruptly, there's a high-pitch scream from within the house, making both of us freeze. 

“What was that?” I ask, searching the surrounding area. 

“My daughter is upstairs playing!" He rushes out and scoots closer to me. Boldly, he places his hand on my bare knee. "What was that you said about size?” He grins and begins to glide his hand up slowly. 

I swallow hard, my eyes on his hand. I try to ease it off. “Sir, please-“ 

He lifts his hand off my knee and brings it to my shoulder. He tries to urge me to lay down. “Come on, sugar. I’ll pay you for your time. Your supervisor won’t have to know.” 

I reach underneath my dress and whip out my gun, pointing it directly between his eyes. “FBI, down on the ground!” 

His eyes grow wide and his jaw nearly hits the floor. “What!” 

The S.W.A.T. team barges into the house, all yelling over each other. They march deeper into the house and into the basement where we know the children are. Hotchner appears in the foyer with Reid and Morgan. Soon, Prentiss and JJ are close behind. 

Reid yanks the man off of me and tosses him onto the ground on his knees. He handcuffs him and pulls him to his feet. “No means no, asshole!” 

“She was asking for it," the suspect huffs as he's dragged off toward the foyer. 

Reid laughs mockingly. “Doubtful consider she just has to go to me for that." 

Morgan kneels in front of me. “You okay?” 

I nod weakly. “After every time I just feel gross.” I shake out my arms with a shiver. 

“He’s a disgusting man. I’m sorry he touched you.” 

“Part of the job.” I shrug. “At least I know how to defend myself. There are so many women who don't." 

Morgan nods. "Maybe you can take your experiences and help those women." 

Now there's an idea. 

__________________________________________________

I lean against the car with JJ and Prentiss as the S.W.A.T. team and members of C.P.S carry the little girls out of the basement and into ambulances. It's a bittersweet sight. Morgan and Reid step out of the house once the last child is removed. Morgan pats Reid on the back with a chuckle as they approach us. 

As soon as they reach us, Reid takes my hand and leads me to a tree a few feet away from the car. When we have some privacy, he starts to apologize. “Look, I’m sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have grabbed you and covered your mouth. I didn’t know-“ 

I cut him off, reaching up and bringing my lips to meet his with a quick peck. His hands rest on my waist and I break from him. 

He blinks rapidly, taken aback. “I thought you’d be mad.” 

“Oh I was pissed in the moment. Now, it’s just hot," I grin, wrapping my arms around his waist. 

He smirks. “Noted.” 

“I didn’t know you could move so quickly, Reid,” I giggle. “And what you said to the perpetrator when you arrested him!” 

He chuckles, “yeah I may have been a little heated in the moment. In my defense, he did touch you! Okay, that was not a part of the plan!” 

“I appreciate the protectiveness,” I assure him with a laugh. 

He glances down at the small space between us and the smile on his lips fades slowly. 

I can tell there's something on his mind. 

“About your performance...” He mumbles. 

“Didn’t like it?” I ask, knowing how he hates it when I have to be a ploy. 

He nods frantically. “Yeah, never again," he orders. 

“Deal.” I nod, giving his lips a quick peck again. 

He smiles into the kiss. “Well, never again for anyone else," he adds against my lips, making me grin. He breaks from me to ask, "Do you think maybe tonight you and I could talk about my assets?” 

I swat him on the arm. “Reid!” 

He chuckles, "you're right. We'll talk about this when we get home." 

I roll my eyes and they land on our teammates by the car as they watch us go back and forth, smiling brightly. 

_____________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @mrsobrien888​ @hufflepufftruffle @gillybear17 @thatsonezesty13 @smol-flowerkiddo @reesespieces10123 @madds-m @az3r0o @wafflebacon23 @spencerreid-mgg @alfonsais @justlivinginadaydream @kaitlynpcallmebeepme @farah3012 @doveygirlkay-blog @dreatine  @imhappybutimalsosad @parahmur  @tremendousdinosaurhideout  @destiny-dream67  @ashwarren32  @yeahjustcallmer-n @bluehydrangea-cherry​ @izzysecrets

[spikefromlr]

So Pretty When You Cry

18+

Aged up Chase!

~~~~

"We have to hurry, everyone will be back soon." Chase pleads with you, his voice strained slightly.

"I wonder what they'd think, hmm? Their 'mission leader' on his knees, with a vibrator up his ass, begging to cum. You think they'd still take you seriously?" You taunt, reveling in the whimpers that come from him.

His cock steadily leaks at your words, the tip an angry red color, begging for release.

Chase never understood why this type of humiliation turned him on, instead of turning him into Spike, but he decided not to question it.

"C'mon baby please, let me?" Chase asks, tugging at the restraints keeping his hands behind his back.

"Let you what? You know if you want something, you have to say it." You tell him, reaching to stroke his cock, making it even harder for him to talk.

"Can- can I cum, please?"

"Hmmm, I don't know, you think you deserve it?" You ask, leaning forward to kiss his neck, just the way he likes.

You use your unoccupied hand to grab the vibrator remote, turning it up a notch, resulting in a loud moan from Chase.

"Please, please, just let me cum. I'll- I'll be good, so good, just let me cum for you, please."

Just as you're about to respond, you hear a *ping* from your phone, alerting you that someone's home. "Well, looks like it's too late." You tell him, watching as his face drops. "You should probably clean up, they'll be down here any minute." Freeing him of his restraints, you watch as he scrambles to grab his clothes from the ground beside him and put them on. You lean against the cyberdesk, trying to look as casual as possible.

When he goes to take out the vibrator, you stop him, "Leave it.", and he does, not having time to argue.

By the time everyone is exiting the elevator, Chase has made it so you're standing in front of him while he sits on the desk, covering his "problem".

"Hey, you two, what're you doing down here? I thought you were upstairs studying." Mr. Davenport asks, walking in with Adam, Bree, and Leo.

"Yeah, we were but we finished pretty quickly. Perks of dating the smartest man in the world I guess?" You say nonchalantly, making Chase wonder how you're so calm when your hand was just on his dick not even five minutes ago.

"I still can't believe Chasey here is dating anyone, especially someone so out of his league." Adam adds in, like he always does when someone brings up you and Chase. You see Leo subtly smack Adam's arm, trying to get him to shut up.

"Leo, it's fine. But I've been meaning to ask, when do we get to meet your boo Adam?" You ask, tired of him constantly picking on your boyfriend.

You smirk to yourself when he goes quiet, and you turn so you're facing Chase, knowing he's been quiet the whole time for a reason.

"You okay babe? You don't look so good." You reach the back of your hand up to his cheek, then forehead, seeing that they actually are warm, but not for the reasons you're pretending they are.

"Yeah I'm not feeling the best." Chase plays into your charade, hoping to leave the lab as soon as possible. He can still feel the low vibrations and it's taking everything out of him to not cum in front of his entire family.

Turning to the team, you tell them, "I'm gonna take Chase upstairs, make him some soup or something. Talk to y'all later!", dragging Chase onto the elevator before anyone has a chance to question anything.

As soon as the elevator doors close, you back Chase against the wall, sweeping him into a bruising kiss, one of your hands making its way to curl around his neck and the other going to palm the bulge in his pants.

Chase whimpers in your mouth at the overwhelming feeling of your hand on his cock and the restriction of airflow.

You hear the *ding* of the elevator, and you back away with a smile, leaving Chase frustrated once again. He knew this was part of the game you played, but he wanted it to end already! He follows you into the hallway, realizing that you brought him to the floor with the spare rooms.

Following you like a dog on a leash, Chase lets you lead him into one of the rooms.

You hold the door for him, closing it after he walks in. He turns to you and you bring him in for another kiss, maneuvering him so that he's sitting on the bed and you go to straddle him.

You grind your centre onto his, your hands going into his hair, pulling slightly. Pulling away, you whisper against his lips, "Tell me what you want."

"Just wanna cum, please." He begs, his eyes starting to water from the constant stimulation on his prostate, and the pleasure/pain he's getting from you pulling his hair.

"Who would've thought that little ol' me could get The Chase Davenport, to be reduced to a begging, moaning, mess? Ain't I powerful?" You flaunt, completely ignoring his request.

You feel him start to grind himself up into you, his head falling to the crook of your neck and his arms wrapping around you.

"Aww, you gonna cum in your pants? I didn't know you were that pathetic."

Chase was practically incoherent by now, mumbling out things that sounded like "please" and curses you'd never usually hear him say.

Pitying him, you move his head from the crease of your neck, taking in his flushed and wet cheeks. Wet, from the tears that are fully running now, and you lean forward to kiss them away.

"So pretty when you cry." You murmur against his lips before softly kissing him. You pull back only to say, "Go ahead and cum for me.", before pulling him back in for another kiss.

You feel him writhe against you, and you grind yourself onto him to work him through his orgasm, relishing in the mewls and whimpers that come from his mouth, the only word he's able to form being your name.

You turn the vibrator completely off as he comes down from his high, planting little kisses all over his face before finally landing one on his lips, watching as his lips turn up in a smile.

"Holy shit.”

You giggle at his words, watching as his face quickly turns to an uncomfortable look.

“As fun as that was, I now need a shower and fresh pants.” He grimaces, motioning for you to get up from his lap.

You get up, making your way towards the door, “This room is connected to a bathroom so you go shower, and I’ll sneak down and get you some fresh clothes. Sound good?”

Chase stands up, the front of his pants stained with his release, making him walk awkwardly towards the bathroom, “Sounds good.”, and you can’t help but laugh as you watch him waddle, causing him to call back to you, saying “Oh shut it!”, with a playful smile.

________

You take the elevator downstairs to the lab, leaving Chase to shower, and when you exit you’re met with four pairs of accusing eyes.

“Heyyy, everyone. Just comin’ down to get Chase some warm clothes, think he might have a little cold or something.” You say, walking as fast as possible to grab his hoodie and joggers.

“You know the funny part about this expensive lab, Y/N?” Mr.Davenport starts, using your choice of words to describe the lab, “It’s the expensive security cameras and smart-home system!”, your face drops, “Wanna know what they shared with me about you and Chase’s time in the lab?” He says with a faux smile.

“No not really.” You respond, hanging your head in defeat.

“Good, because I don’t think I could stand to hear him say any of what I just saw.” Leo pipes up, fake gagging, Adam and Bree following him.

“Anything you wanna say on you and Chase’s behalf?” Davenport says, looking like he’s close to puking too.

“We’ll clean the lab?”

“Good answer.”

~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed!! I’ve been rewatching Lab Rats and it made me realize how underrated and attractive Chase is lol! Feel free to like and comment!

[bonny-kookoo]

Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance,  Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.

[tommyspeakycap]

hi! can you write some dad!andyrobertson please?! I love your writing so much!! <333 something about him with a daughter please 💕 DILF DILF DILF !

oh he's 100% a dilf - and here you go!

a fathers woe

andy struggles with the prospect of his baby growing up as the little girl asks if she can get married

“Daddy?” Andy heard his daughters sweet little voice, “Can i ask you a question.” Andy knows immediately there is another question set to follow, but he cannot help himself from the typical dad response that falls out his lips before he can stop it. “You just did, love.”

You snigger, shaking your head as you dip the little nail painting brush back into the pot before returning it to your daughters foot to finish painting the last of her toes bright pink per her request. “That’s not funny, daddy.” She scolds, frowning. Andy swallows his laughs, nodding his head and holding his hands up in apology. That seems enough for your daughter, who turns back to her sticker book as Andy and you share a look with silent laughter. “Don’t touch them for five minutes.” You instruct, closing the nail polish and kissing your daughters head.

“Course you can ask me a question, lovely. Go on?” Andy hums after giving you a kick kiss before you disappear upstairs. Andy back to grating cheese over his homemade pizza as he hears his daughter crunch her way through the apple slices in her bowl as she lays on her front on the large marble top of the kitchen island, head propped up by her elbows. “Why did you get married to mummy?” She asks sweetly, not looking up at him as she speaks. Mila continues to colour in her little liverpool colouring book, only occasionally stopping to stick on a coloured or sparkly sticker over Trent Alexander-Arnold’s head. Andy purses his lips, tilting his head slightly in thought as he pushes the two trays of pizza’s into the huge oven.

“Because we love each other very much.” Andy replies casually, shrugging as does. He isn’t exactly sure where the question has come from, but he’s sure he’ll be soon to find out considering she’s very young and doesn’t tend to beat around the bush at all. “Is that all?” She asks curiously. Andy mocks hurt with a quirked eyebrow and a scoff that his daughter doesn’t pick up on. With his back pressed against the kitchen counter and ankles crossed over each other, he observed his little girl with the same level of curiosity she had in her question.

“Well, yeah. People gets married for lots of different reason. Me and your mum wanted to be husband and wife, we love each other very much and there’s lots of…” Andy pauses, trying to think of a way to explain the legal benefits of marriage to Mila without completely confusing her young mind. “Homework.” He concludes, somewhat triumphantly proud of his quick thinking. “Adults have lots of homework to do to buy houses and stuff like that. Sometimes that’s easier too when you’re married.” He tries to explain, watching her nod along. Her reception school homework is nothing difficult of course, but she doesn’t enjoy it and it’s difficult to her, so she grasps the concept generally. “But you should never marry anyone just to make your homework easier.” He adds sternly. “You should only marry someone you love.”

“Okay.” She nods, little eyebrows still furrowed. “So does that mean i can marry-”

“No.” Andy interrupts firmly, standing up straight with an immediate frown set into his features. Mila protests with a pout, “But daddy you didn’t let me finish!”

“Still no.” He retorts, offering her a tight lipped smile. “That’s rude, daddy.” Mila chides, sitting up to cross her legs in a basket and frown at her dad in the very same way he’s frowning at her. “Boys are rude.” Andy quips, “That’s why you should never marry one.”

“Mummy married you?” She challenges, cocking one eyebrow and crossing her little arms.

“That’s different.” Andy brushes off, turning away from his daughter to busy himself with sweeping the grated cheese off the counter with one hand into his other hand to flick it into the bin. “How?” Mila protests, making him roll his eyes with his back to her. She is just like you; persistent, usually right and a true powerhouse. She doesn’t give up easily and she almost never backs down. She’s you with the very best of his flaws sprinkled through. And his volume. She is just as loud as he is, much to your dismay.

“Because me and your mum love each other.” Andy says. “Well i love-”

“No you don’t.”

“Daddy you didn’t let me finish! How do you know?” She argues, clearly getting frustrated a little at her usually very easygoing dad. “Because you’re too young.” He responds, seemingly simply.

“You’re not being very kind, daddy.” She grumbles, evidently irritated. “I’m telling mummy.” She slides to the edge of the island countertop, clambering down onto the her little stool before leaping gracelessly down and running off yelling out for you.

Andy sighs to himself, dropping his head into his hands as he slumps down at the island on one of the comfortable stools. He can hear her voice and yours, but not what either of you are saying until it goes quiet and you both appear again the doorway. The little girl year old holds onto your hand tightly.

“What do we say when we haven’t been very kind, Andy?” You prompt, eyebrows raised and an ever so slightly teasing glint in your eyes that’s barely suppressed on the lips that fight a smirk. “I’m sorry, Mila.” Andy apologises, standing off his seat to crouch down on one knee. “Could i give you a hug to say how sorry i am for not listening to you properly and not answering your questions nicely?”

The little girl nods, letting go of your hands to shuffle over to her dad, allowing him to engulf her little body against his large one, almost completely shrouding her from your view. After a moment, he lifts her up and places her back on the kitchen island where she was sitting.

“Daddy was upset because you’re my little girl and you growing up is scary for me to think about.” He admits, swallowing thickly. You and Andy have been practicing a very honest manor of parenting. You sometimes feel let down by the childhood you had and you want to give her better, making sure she has emotional stability and the opportunity to know she can share her feelings whenever. Mistakes will happen, it’s how we respond to them that is important. You want her to be healthy physically and emotionally. It’s one of the most important parts of being a parent, in your opinion.

“It’s okay.” Mila replies sweetly, pressing a little kiss to his cheek. “I don’t want to marry any boys anyway. Mummy reminded me how gross they are. You’re the only boy i love daddy.” She shrugs, smiling like the little angel she truly is. “Good. Now come here.” Andy pulls her back into his arms, turning to you to give you a wide eyed look and a mouthed “thank you!”

She wriggles from his arms after he attempted to press kisses all over her and runs off giggling to hide from him elsewhere in the house and probably look for her soft football; the only one that’s allowed indoors after you smashed a lamp with one of Andy’s footballs and both you and Mila agreed to tell him it was the dog who broke said lamp with the football.

“You’re a lifesaver.” Andy groans as he walks towards you, wrapping his arms right around you and he pressing his lips onto yours firmly. “Mhm, i think i bought you a few more months.” You giggle, your nose bumping against his as he laughs along with you. He groans again, burying his head in your shoulder as your hand gently scratches the nape of his neck comfortingly. “Wanna make another?” He mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder through your hoodie.

“Cheeky bastard,” you jab your thumb into his ribcage slightly, words spoken between gentle laughter as you shake your head. “Seriously though?” He retorts, pulling back a bit to rest both his hands on your waist. He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he takes in your proximity and natural scent contently. “Let’s make another. We could try for a boy?”

“It doesn’t really work like that.” You giggle, eyes crinkling with your smile. Andy rolls his eyes playfully. “So?” He shrugs, pecking his lips against yours again, “You in?”

You shake your head, pressing your lips against him only broken by your smile. “Course i’m in and oi!” You swat at his wandering hand, dipping beneath the waistband of your leggings, “Not right this second you filthy man!”

Andy throws his head back with a loud, playful groan that’s broken up by his laughter when he heads you giggling before you press a gentle kiss to his exposed neck. “I love you.” You smile, watching his eyes sparkle as he turns his face back to you. “Yeah yeah yeah, i love you too.”

“Rude, daddy!” Mila chimes as she appears in the kitchen again, only having heard the end of he conversation.

“Sorry,” the scolded man retorts, immediately knowing the correction his daughter wants him to make to his prior words to you; “I love you more.”

Mila nods, smiling up at you clearly proud of her intervention for her very adored mother in the name of girl power, bumping her little fist against yours before she turns back to her dad, who wouldn’t change anything about this moment for the world, to give him a very tight lipped response.

“Much better daddy. Don’t let it happen again.”

[engie-ivy]

Remus is the uptight, swotty Prefect who's always getting the popular and beloved troublemakers Black and Potter in detention. Remus doesn't care what people say of him, and he absolutely doesn't care about Black's blinding smile.

A Book By Its Cover

Remus pulls his jumper closer around himself against the draught in the large, empty halls. The corridor is dimly lit and he hears nothing but the sound of his own footsteps. Everything is quiet. Too quite.

A loud clang suddenly sounds from behind one of the tapestries. Remus almost smiles to himself. Bingo. In a swift motion, he pulls away the tapestry.

Startled, Black whirls around. He’s surrounded by what appear to be paint cans and rope. His shock only last a moment, though.

“Lupin!” He exclaims, a beaming smile appearing on his face. “What a pleasant surprise!”

Remus crosses his arms over his chest. He makes an effort to keep a firm expression on his face, to show he’s not affected by Black’s notorious, blinding smile, like everyone else is. “Only pleasant if you like detention. And as for a surprise, I am a Prefect. I am supposed to be here making my rounds. So what are you doing here?”

“Preparing a prank,” Black says simply.

Remus doesn’t know whether he should be insulted Black doesn’t seem to take his authority very seriously, or glad that he doesn’t insult his intelligence by coming up with an excuse.

“Right,” Remus says, before taking out his notebook and pen. “Out of bed after curfew and engaging in illegal activity,” he scribbles down. “And where’s Potter?”

“Aw, am I not enough for you, Lupin?” Black pouts.

“I figured you could use some company in detention,” Remus replies smoothly.

Black clicks his tongue. “So thoughtful.”

“If you’re here setting up some prank, then it’s a given Potter is setting up that prank somewhere else in the school as well. So, where is he?”

Black shakes his head. “For you’re own good, Lupin, you don’t wanna put James in detention right now. People won’t be too pleased with you if the school’s football star misses the upcoming match against Slytherin thanks to you.”

“So thoughtful,” Remus repeats Black’s words, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But please, don’t concern yourself over me. I’ve never cared what others think of me, and I don’t plan on starting now. And you basically just admitted Potter is currently doing something that would warrant me giving him detention, so you might as well tell me where he is.”

Black sighs. “This is why people call you uptight.”

Remus’ expression hardens. “If people care so much, they should be mad at Potter for risking the football match in the first place by playing some stupid prank.”

Black gasps dramatically and clutches his chest. “Stupid? Our pranks are not stupid! They’re works of art! Jumping out of a cake on miss McGonagall’s birthday? Hilarious! Making a zip line to go from one floor to the other? Brilliant! Filling the gym with stray cats, many of whom were eventually adopted? Genius! People love our pranks. They make people laugh and bring some excitement in their lives. Much needed excitement, because let’s face it, school is boring. Sitting there, listening to old people tell you things you already know.”

“For you maybe,” Remus mutters.

Black scoffs. “Don’t pretend you’re not one of the smartest people in our class, Lupin.”

Remus just glares harder at Black, to show that no, he doesn’t care that Sirius Black, whom people are always falling over themselves for to get even a bit of his attention, has apparently noticed Remus’ academic achievements. No, he doesn’t care at all.

“Even the teachers love our pranks,” Black continues. “They put some life into this place!”

“We’ll see what miss McGonagall has to say about it when I report you tomorrow,” Remus says calmly. “I’ll go finish my rounds, and when I get back, you better have cleaned up this mess.”

As he turns around to leave, Black suddenly grabs his wrist. “Join us!”

“Wha...” Remus turns back, and his traitorous stomach flutters at how close Black is suddenly standing.

“Join us for one prank,” Black says.

Remus blinks at him. “Why in earth would I do that?”

“Because it’s fun! And honestly, Lupin, to me you always look like you can use a bit of fun.”

That catches Remus off guard. It’s true. Between struggling to get top marks, doing everything he can for extra credit, making sure he has a spotless record, excelling at his Prefect duties, and worrying about his sick mother, lately he often feels like just throwing his hands in the air and say ‘screw it all!’, and just do something crazy, something dumb or irresponsible. But he definitely never wanted for Black to notice that.

“Come on, Lupin,” Black says, as Remus stays silent. “Be part of the fun for once, instead of putting a damper on it.”

“Your childish pranks aren’t my idea of fun,” Remus bites back, feeling himself getting defensive.

Black just grins. “You won’t know that unless you join us for just one prank!”

“Why would you even want me to join you?” Many people would be lining up to be a part of one of Black and Potter’s infamous pranks. It’s beyond Remus why Black would ask that one stuffy guy who puts them in detention almost every week.

“Because I like you,” Black shrugs. “I like how hard you work for everything and how you don’t care what anyone thinks of you. And I think you secretly have a talent for it,” he adds with a wink, that absolutely does not make Remus’ knees go weak. “I bet you have a wicked side to you underneath all that swotty stuff.”

“But I’m a Prefect!” Remus argues. “I’m supposed to discipline rule-breakers, not break them myself!”

Black rolls his eyes. “You shouldn’t take that job so serious.”

This rubs Remus the wrong way. “Not everyone can afford to treat everything in life as a joke,” he says coolly.

Black folds his arms over his chest and stares. “A fancy title and a badge and suddenly you’re better than us?”

“It’s nothing like that!”

Black huffs. “Then why is that bogus job so important to you?”

“Because some of us can’t afford to have even one note on their record if they ever want to get anywhere in life!” Remus snaps. “Because some of us need perfect scores and every bit of extra credit they can get if they want universities not to immediately bin their applications! Because some of us don’t have a last name they can flaunt, a daddy who can make a phone call, a mommy who can throw some money around, and suddenly you’re top of the list! Because some of us can’t just look at their rich parents and rely on them to always give them everything they want!”

The change in Black is instant. He takes a step back, and instead of his usual easy smile and bright eyes sparkling with mischief, his face becomes an ice-cold mask. “Fuck you, Lupin,” he hisses. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

He pushes past Remus as he storms off, leaving him behind feeling very confused. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Yes, the system is unfair and Black is privileged, but Remus supposes that isn’t really Black’s fault. He knows Black isn’t actually a bad person. His heart is in the right place, and he’s usually kind, only ever mean to people who, quite frankly, deserve it.

Remus just wishes Black would stop with those bloody pranks.

Remus just wishes Black would continue with those bloody pranks.

Or do anything really that makes him seem more like his old self. Remus never thought he’d miss that loud, barking laugh, that infuriating smirk, those lame puns so much.

Ever since everyone returned from Christmas break, Black has completely withdrawn. He hardly talks to anyone, he just sits silently, his eyes staring off in the distance and his expression blank. Potter is always by his side, softly talking to him or just throwing him worried glances.

Since then, it has been the talk of the school, and even in the papers and on the news: Sirius Black has been removed from his parents’ custody. It was a messy affair, the police has even been involved. Black’s father was arrested on grounds of child abuse. Apparently, Orion Black, the noble and well-respected patriarch of the prestigious Black family, has a habit of beating his son. It must’ve been going on for a while, but over the break it escalated. People just can’t get over how Sirius Black’s life wasn’t as perfect as it always seemed to be.

Remus feels bad for Black, and especially feels like an idiot, having said the things he said. He knows he owes Black an apology. It has been a couple of weeks since the break ended, and the apology is beginning to be long overdue. Though he also knows that Black has probably not been waiting for an apology from the uptight twat that always gets him detention.

Maybe it’s more to ease his own consciousness that he hesitantly approaches the table where Black is sitting. Potter glares at him the moment he sees him, and half gets out of his seat, probably to tell him to piss off, and rightfully so. However, after a quick glance at Black’s face, who’s looking up at Remus, he sits back down, as if he sees something on his friend’s face that makes him chance his mind.

“Bla- Sirius,” Remus says, realising a tad late that Sirius might nor want to be reminded of his family name right now. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I said some shitty things to you, and I shouldn’t have. You were right, I didn’t know anything about you.”

“It’s okay,” Sirius says softly. “You had good reason to be angry, it’s a rather fucked up system. And you didn’t know. Didn’t know that I would’ve gladly given up all that privilege to just have parents who... who love me...”

Sirius’ voice falters and he trails off. Potter is staring at him wide-eyed, and also Remus is surprised. He knows Sirius hasn’t talked about it to anyone, and he feels almost guilty he’s saying it to him of all people. He’s also surprised at the overwhelming urge he has to pull Sirius into a hug, hold him and tell him they never deserved him anyway. He has to leave before he does anything stupid.

“I should go,” Remus says quickly. “If there’s ever anything I can do...”

As he turns around to leave, Black suddenly grabs his wrist. “Join us!”

Remus turns back to look at him.

“Join us for one prank.”

“Why would you want me to join you?” Remus asks, much like the first time.

“Because I like you,” Sirius replies, much like the first time, only where he had then sounded nonchalant and slightly amused, he now sounds pleading and vulnerable.

“Yeah,” Remus says hoarsely, because his Prefect duties suddenly don’t seem so important compared to helping Sirius come back to his old self. “Yeah, I’ll join you for one prank.”

And then the most amazing thing happens: for the first time in weeks, Sirius Black smiles. It’s only a small smile, but the room already seems a bit brighter. In a moment of vivid clarity, Remus knows that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that boy smile.

[dear-yandere]

delirium.

yandere! zhongli, childe, xiao, scaramouche x gn! reader.

not sfw (18+) scenarios, liyue + fatui edition.

tw: dubcon + alcohol (xiao), noncon (childe, scaramouche), blood (childe), implied physical abuse + exhibitionism (scaramouche).

disclaimer: this is not a healthy relationship (apart from zhongli’s...maybe).

art belongs to ぐみ, kaskia, and kureiiro.

zhongli

he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

your lips are someplace they shouldn’t be and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. his fingers—fingers that have conquered humans and gods alike—sit awkwardly on your hips, twitching with embarrassment and pleasure for each kiss you lay upon his neck. he’s warm there, just how you like it, and you waste no time laying hotter, wetter kisses along the apex of his jawline.

“t...” he catches himself before he can stutter like a fool. “this is inappropriate, my beloved.” he clears his throat, and you’re quick to silence him with another kiss.

“this is what you wanted.” you playfully remind, not once missing the pink blush on his cheeks. 6,000 years old, and he has never done this with someone he loves; you suppose you should take that as a compliment, but really, you’re just excited by the thrill of dominating a god in bed. 

“i suppose you’re correct, but this still doesn’t feel...” he starts, but his eyes get caught on the way your legs are straddling his hips;  he draws a sharp breath, an embarrassment washing over him.

you laugh, and it’s like music to his ears. “this is what lovers do, zhongli. that’s what we are, isn’t it?” you tilt your head, your smile coy. “it says so right in the contract.”

ah. he can’t argue with that, so he shuts up.

you giggle in triumph and continue your ministrations, paying his awkward touches and clumsy kisses no mind. it’s cute, the way he’s trying so desperately to restrain himself; you sort of want to see him... snap.

the lower your kisses get, the more he questions why he’d ever want you to stop. and he reminds himself that you’re right, that your lips belong there. they belong on him... just like lovers do. then... as it stands, letting you straddle him to the futon is fulfilling no such obligation. as your loving husband, it’s his duty to see to it that you’re well taken care of.

it’s in the contract, after all.

you’re on your back before your lips can reconnect with his skin. 

“allow me.“

tartaglia + fatui! darling

"does my little mouse want to cum?”

childe pushes his hair back to get a better look at your pitiful state. you’re standing on your knees, battered and blooded from the fight he’d forced you into, and your cheeks are stained with tears and dirt. his gaze locks onto your face, analyzing your reaction to the cock stuffed down your throat—and the dagger pressed against your jugular. 

your whimpers died down a while ago. must’ve realized you lost this battle in its entirety.

“you were so full of yourself earlier.” childe jeers, enjoying the way you squirm with humiliation at the thought. you’ve always been aware that the difference in skill between you and him was far too great to warrant anything close to a win in battle, but the situation you’re in now does nothing but add insult to injury.

just how he likes it.

“now that i have a fistful of your hair and i’ve brought you to your knees, you have nothing to say.” his laughter bounces from the walls without a care for who hears. “for all that strength you tout, you can’t even handle this?” he tugs your head back, admiring the way your bloodied face contorts with pain when a few strands of hair come with it. “how pathetic.”

you’re tempted to bring your teeth down onto his—

“bite and i’ll cut your tongue off.” he smiles. you’re not safe even in your own thoughts. “if you’re good, i’ll even help patch those wounds up for you. doubt you can reach most of them by yourself.” he chuckles, and you recall that he deliberately aimed at places you can’t reach. your back is covered with a litany of fresh wounds and blood, and your arm have so many small wounds it’d be impossible to reach your back on your own.

bastard.

your lips instinctively squeeze around his dick; to your displeasure, he moans, and a laugh soon follows. “careful, sugar. don't squeeze so hard my cock slips out.” he hums and bucks into your mouth. you nearly gag when he hits the back of your throat.

“we’ve hardly started.”

xiao

“oi, take responsibility.”

your eyes are shameful when they avert to the side, your skin dusted with hot embarrassment and arousal. the sight before you was one you could’ve imagined only in your wildest dreams —the esteemed adepti xiao’s legs spread around either of your ears, his eyes blurry with excitement and sake. his pale skin is red with the effects of liquor and arousal, and his lips are twisted into a lopsided smile; it looks like it’s taking all of his facial muscles to keep the expression intact.

he’s not in his right mind, but you know better than to disobey his orders. xiao is a patient man lest you cross him; and, despite his keen affections for you, you’re no more exempt from those rules than the archons themselves.

so you purse your lips and nod; he seems pleased at that. 

you hear him draw a sharp, excited breath when your fingers venture to the belt keeping his pants up; on his exhale, he can hardly contain his delight when the fabric around his waist loosens and slides down his thighs. atop his warm skin, your fingers twitch with fear and elation.

even in his drunken state, he senses your hesitation. you nearly yelp when his hand shoots out and grabs hold of yours, but his grip is nothing short of gentle. they hold yours as if you are something to be treasured; despite all he’s threatened to do to you when he’s in a fit of rage, you can’t help but feel more at ease.

you let him take your hand.

his hands are flushed and shaky as they guide yours to the tip of his cock. you draw a shaky breath, the feel of his skin foreign. this will be your first time with him; you remind yourself that you shouldn’t be doing this. he’s drunk, he’s not in his right mind. but if you don’t, he’ll...

he cuts your train of thought with a sharp tug of your chin, pulling your head closer to his throbbing member. he doesn’t have to speak for you to understand what he wants.

“suck.”

if you don’t, there’s far worse in store.

scaramouche

“aw, are you going to cry? beg me to stop?”

you hurriedly shake your head.

“go on then. tell me what’s the matter, pet.” he nudges your bruised cheek with his knee; the skin there still stings from his earlier assault. you’ve learned since then—to be a good pet, to listen to him when he speaks, to do as he says without question nor hesitation. “have you gone mute already?” he sighs and rests his head against his knuckles. “that’d be no fun...”

you just want him to let you go.

you shake your head once more, uttering a small ‘no’ to sate his admonishments. you’ve learned not to speak unless spoken to. you’re better off that way.

“you were running your mouth earlier. where did all that bravado go, i wonder?” scaramouche’s lips twitch into a cruel smile. looking at you now, no one would ever think you were talking back to him only minutes ago. poor little thing, you had to be put in your place. you’re curled onto your knees now, shaking like a newborn pup, and he likes you better that way.

you deserve a reward.

he offers a pitying caress against your raw cheek; his skin is frigid to the touch, and you lean into it more so to relieve the hot ache of your bruise than because you’ve been instructed to do so. he accepts your subservience all the same, so long as you’re subservient to him.

“strip.” 

he barks another order and your body immediately goes stiff. normally, you would have shot up and done exactly as he wished, but you didn’t. not this time, not with the prying eyes of his envoy watching your humiliation in full display. you didn’t want it to come to this, to be disrobed and ridiculed before anyone other than him. if you were alone... it was just him, you could’ve lived with the shame, because no one would know but him. 

and he knows that.

when you don’t move fast enough to his liking, he kicks into your stomach—light enough that there won’t be bruises. you’ve been so wonderful lately; it’d be a shame if you ended your good streak now.

 “my precious, stupid little pet. you’ll do well to remember that when i say something, you do it. quickly.” his tone is final. 

“else i’ll have my men strip you themselves.”

dear-yandere, all rights reserved.