#instead of having to be perfect all the time

[lupinqs]

CRUSH CULTURE ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: paige has a hopeless crush on you, a cheerleader.

☆ ━ word count: 5.4K

☆ ━ warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, this one’s tame

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, inspired by this request (lol i know this was forever ago)

☆ ━ author’s note: hiii i hope y’all enjoy—lemme know if you guys want a part 2 and if so send in ideas for it!!! i have been hopelessly uncreative recently!!! also yes i have been writing tmtc and safe and sound i promise—new chapter of tmtc should be out sometime this weekend, no idea on safe and sound because goddamn that fic takes me forever to write

PAIGE HAS ALWAYS noticed you—though, funny enough, at first it wasn’t because you cheered. That part didn’t even register until her junior year, when she started paying attention to things off the court. But she’d first noticed you back in her sophomore year, in that one class she didn’t feel like she needed at all. She’d often zone out, either doodling in the margins of her notebook or letting her eyes drift around the room as she let her mind wander. Her gaze would skip over classmates until, one day, it stopped on you.

And, God, she remembers that moment. The way she’d blinked, like she needed to reset her brain for a second because… well, you. It wasn’t anything specific, nothing she could even name at the time. But there was this something about you that made her stomach flip. From then on, whenever she zoned out, her eyes would find you before she even realized it. You’d be focused on your notes or lost in thought, completely unaware, and Paige would catch herself staring just a little too long.

She’d think about talking to you, but for some reason, you made her nervous. And that wasn’t something Paige was used to feeling—not with girls. She’d been confident her whole life, even a little cocky when it came to flirting, and her reputation certainly proceeded her. But with you, all of that confidence vanished. Her brain would go blank, her hands would fidget, and her heart would pound just watching you, sitting across the room. The idea of walking up to you, striking up a conversation, felt almost laughable. You’d somehow managed to turn her, Paige Bueckers, into a stammering mess with just a look.

And then there was the other part—the part that kept her from making a move even when she managed to work up the nerve. You looked so…straight. She knows it’s a stupid assumption, but something about the way you carried yourself—she’d convinced herself that you had to be straight. Maybe it was the way you fit in with the other girls, how they flocked around you like they were all in some effortlessly straight, picture-perfect group. Whatever it was, Paige felt certain you’d never look at her the way she looked at you.

So she let it go, or at least, she tried to. But you kept slipping into her thoughts, distracting her in that class, making her mind wander back to you when she least expected it. Her silly little crush on you lingered all through sophomore year, and even when summer rolled around, she found herself thinking of you every now and then, imagining what it might have been like to know you outside of that class.

Then junior year rolled around, and her whole world changed with that ACL tear. Benched for the season, her focus shifted in ways she never anticipated. Instead of charging down the court, she found herself sitting on the sidelines, watching, observing things she normally wouldn’t have noticed. And it was during one of those games, one of those long, frustrating nights when she just wanted to play, that she saw you again—this time, on the court as one of the cheerleaders.

At first, she couldn’t believe it. She actually had to blink a few times, like her brain was trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. This was her third year at UConn, and she hadn’t noticed you were a cheerleader ever. Maybe she really was just unobservant, but it truly shocked her. You looked completely different from how you did in class—more animated, more alive, like you were in your element. And when you started that long, impressive tumbling pass down the court, her jaw dropped. She didn’t even know you could do that, and it left her staring, heart hammering in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. (And maybe the tiny little uniform helped speed it up, too.)

From then on, Paige couldn’t keep her eyes off you during games. She’d always find herself watching you, wondering if you’d somehow feel her gaze, hoping that maybe, just once, you’d look her way. She spent so many games like that—sneaking glances, letting her mind wander, imagining what it might be like to finally work up the nerve to talk to you. But game after game, you never seemed to notice her, too focused on your routines, your teammates, and the cheering crowd around you.

And Paige? She knew she was hopelessly stuck. She’d sit there on the sidelines, feeling ridiculous, pining after a girl she couldn’t even talk to, a girl she thought she’d never really have a chance with. It was her worst crush yet—the kind that left her feeling off-balance, stumbling over her own thoughts, trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter—and she’d never even spoken to you. But each time she saw you out there, smiling, moving with that same effortless grace, she’d feel that same pull, that same quiet, persistent ache.

It’s senior year now, and Paige has one thing on her mind: basketball. It’s been more than a year since she’s played, and she’s determined to make this season count. All summer, she told herself the same thing over and over: Stay focused. Don’t get distracted. No more drifting thoughts, no more daydreams, and absolutely no more pointless crushes on girls she can’t have. And especially no crushes on you.

You, the cheerleader she’d spent too many junior year games staring at from the sidelines. You, the girl she still thought about when her mind wandered late at night, even though she knew better. No, this year, she was locking in. She’d worked too hard, too long, to let her head get all twisted up over you again. She was here to play basketball, not to chase after some unattainable crush.

But as she jogs onto the court for warm-ups, trying to ignore the butterflies that come with her first game back, her eyes somehow find you anyway. Just like they always do. And it’s like no time has passed at all. You’re laughing with the other cheerleaders, your hair perfectly styled in a half-up-half-down, a bow nestled in it, your uniform hugging you just right. The lights catch on your skin, giving you this soft glow, and your smile—God, that smile, so open and sweet and painfully distracting—has her heart skipping a beat before she even realizes it. Paige quickly snaps her eyes away, reminding herself she’s here to play, not to get lost in some imaginary world where she has a chance with you. This is her first game back, and even if it’s just an exhibition against Dayton, she’s got to make it count.

With a deep breath, she manages to brush you off. The pregame excitement kicks in, and her focus sharpens as the game begins. And it’s everything she’s been waiting for—the sounds of the court, the rush of the crowd, the thrill of moving with the ball in her hands again. She’s finally back, and for the first quarter, she’s locked in, feeling the rhythm of the game, feeling unstoppable.

Then it happens. KK makes a bad pass, and Paige is already in motion, chasing down the ball to save it from going out of bounds. She dives, stretching to reach it, but it’s just out of reach. Before she can stop herself, she’s crashing full speed into the sidelines—right into the cheerleaders.

Right into you.

The impact is quick and jarring, and she scrambles to her feet as fast as she can, heart hammering in her chest. She’s prepared to rattle off an apology when she realizes who she’s just barreled into. You’re significantly smaller than her, and her stomach drops as she takes in your wide eyes and the faint wince that flickers across your face. But you handle it with the same grace she’d always admired from afar, waving her off with a laugh and saying, “It’s fine! You’re good!” Your smile is easy, casual, and she’s even more mortified by how sweet you’re being about it.

She tries to apologize again, but you’re already brushing it off with that smile, and she feels her face heating up as she mumbles something unintelligible before hurrying back onto the court. But now her head’s a mess, all her carefully built-up focus gone, replaced by the embarrassing replay of what just happened. She tells herself to get it together, but it’s no use. Her mind keeps drifting back to the look on your face, to the sound of your laugh, to the softness in your smile when you waved her off.

The rest of the game passes in a frustrating blur. She’s off her rhythm, missing open shots she’d normally sink with ease, getting caught in rotations she usually anticipates. By the end, she’s only scored eight points—a painfully low number, especially for her—and she feels the weight of it like a stone in her stomach. She should be thinking about the game, her missed shots, how to get her focus back. But as she sits on the bench, watching the last few minutes tick away, all she can think about is you standing there, laughing off her clumsy collision, looking up at her with that easy, unbothered smile.

So much for not getting distracted.

After the game, Paige is still kicking herself over how sloppy her performance was. She lingers in the locker room, hoping to avoid any unwanted run-ins. But finally, when she’s convinced she’s given it enough time for everyone to clear out, she heads out into the quiet halls of Gampel Pavilion.

Except, of course, her luck isn’t that great. Just as she’s walking out, she spots you—still in your cheer uniform but with a UConn sweatshirt thrown over it, heading down the hall, cheer bag on your back. Her first instinct is to turn around, bolt back into the locker room, and hope to avoid any more humiliation, but it’s already too late. You look up, and your eyes meet, and suddenly she’s frozen in place, panicking because she’s actually staring straight into your eyes.

And then you smile at her. That smile, the one that sends her brain into a meltdown every time. But it’s so much worse now because your smile is directed at her. And, suddenly, you’re walking up to her and saying, “Hey, good game tonight,” and Paige is pretty sure her heart has stopped.

She tries to seem casual, to play it cool, but all she can manage is a shrug and a half-hearted, “Eh, wasn’t my best.” She’s hoping you don’t notice her stutter, but her cheeks are burning, giving her away.

You just wave it off, your dimple showing as you grin up at her. “Nah, this was just your warm-up. You haven’t played in, like, over a year. Next game you’ll drop thirty.”

Paige blinks, and the fact that you know she’s good at basketball—even though everyone knows she’s good at basketball—is enough to send her into a coma, she thinks. “Oh, gosh,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck, struggling to find words. “Gonna have to now, just for you.” The second it’s out of her mouth, she mentally facepalms. That totally sounds like she’s trying to flirt with you.

But you just laugh, eyes crinkling as you look at her, completely unfazed. “I’ll hold you to it,” you say, and that smile doesn’t waver.

There’s a pause, and Paige knows this is where you’re about to say goodbye, and she panics because, after two years of thinking and practically obsessing over you, she’s finally talking to you, and it feels too short, too fleeting. Before she can second-guess herself, she blurts, “Oh—uh, hey, about earlier… when I ran into you. I’m… really sorry about that.”

You shake your head, smiling even wider, brushing it off with an easy laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time; more than you’d think.”

There’s something so casual and warm about the way you say it, and she feels herself relax a little, caught up in the fact that you’re looking right at her, not at all bothered, almost… endeared? And for some reason, seeing your dimpled smile has her stammering like she’s never done before.

“So… uh…” Paige stumbles, her words failing, her confidence gone. “Are you, um, going to Ted’s tonight?” She bites her lip the moment it’s out, but she presses on. “You know, a lot of people go there after the first game—it’s kinda, like, a…thing. Which, y’know, I guess you probably already know about because… you’re, like, not a freshman…” She sounds so stupid. God.

You tilt your head slightly, considering, before you smile at her again. “I wasn’t really planning on going, but…” You pause, looking at her with a bit of a spark in your eyes, and for a second, she feels like she might actually combust. “Should I?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and she’s nodding before she can stop herself. “Y-yes! I—I think you’d have a good time.” She mentally scolds herself for the stutter, but you’re just nodding, still smiling, still looking so effortlessly at ease while she’s a nervous mess.

You laugh softly, a sound she’s sure she’ll replay in her head all night, and say, “Alright. I’ll think about it. And if I do decide to go, I’ll see you there, Bueckers.”

And with one last smile, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there in shock, her heart racing and her mind replaying every word you just said. She’s tempted to pinch herself, convinced this has to be some elaborate daydream because there’s no way she actually just talked to you.

She doesn’t move for a long moment, replaying the way you said her name, the sound of your laugh, and the chance that she might actually see you tonight.

IT’S LATER in the night at Ted’s, and Paige is doing her best to stay composed, talking with one of the guys from the men’s team. Dirty Shirley in hand, she’s feeling just the faintest buzz, not enough to loosen her grip on reality but just enough to feel the edges of her confidence soften. She’s nodding along to something the guy’s saying when, over his shoulder, she spots you walking in.

Paige’s attention falters as she takes you in. You’re in baggy jeans that hang low on your hips, and a leather tube top that clings in all the right places, dipping enough to make her gaze lower slightly. She can barely tear her gaze away as you head over to the bar with a couple of friends, both of whom Paige recognizes from the cheer team. You’re laughing, leaning into one of them, completely at ease, and she can’t stop watching.

She realizes she’s staring a little too long, so she quickly excuses herself, not to talk to you—God, no, she can’t even think straight around you—but to hide by her teammates before she does something stupid. Her teammates notice her the moment she approaches, grinning as they watch her flustered expression.

“You see who just walked in, P?” Azzi teases, nudging her.

Paige groans, cheeks burning. “Don’t start.”

But they’re all laughing, and Ice is elbowing KK with a smirk. Nika, who’s been listening with a barely disguised grin, rolls her eyes. “Okay, this is ridiculous. You’ve had a crush on this girl since, like, forever. Go talk to her.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t. She’s—” Paige doesn’t even finish the sentence, glancing over her shoulder just in time to see you at the bar, waiting for your drink. She’d be lying if she said her confidence hadn’t evaporated the moment you walked in, looking like that.

“Girl boo,” KK sighs dramatically, before grabbing Paige’s wrist and dragging her toward the bar. Paige stumbles after her, mumbling weak protests, but KK is determined, practically hauling her across the crowded floor until they’re standing right next to you. KK orders a Sprite, leaning casually on the bar and glancing over at you with a grin. “Hey, girly pop! You cheer, right?”

You smile, looking more at Paige than at KK, and Paige’s heart thuds against her ribs. “Yeah, I do,” you say, introducing yourself and holding out a hand to KK, but your gaze flickers right back to Paige, who’s half-hiding behind her friend, cheeks pink and looking slightly caught. “Hi, Paige.”

Paige’s voice comes out a little sheepish. “Hey.”

KK smirks, clearly satisfied, and gives Paige a quick wink before excusing herself, leaving Paige standing there alone with you.

There’s a beat of awkward silence as Paige shifts on her feet, trying to keep herself from looking like an idiot, which is hard considering how aware she is of every single thing about you—your posture, your smile, the way you’re leaning in just close enough that she can catch a faint hint of your perfume.

“So,” Paige says, trying for casual. “You glad you came?”

You tilt your head, your lips quirking up. “Hmm, not sure yet. I’m not too impressed so far.”

She nods, stifling a wince, feeling more awkward than she can ever remember. And yet, her mind’s racing, urging her to just go for it, because this is her moment. She’s Paige Bueckers—she’s supposed to be confident. She always is. Besides, if you’re not interested, at least she’ll know. And if you are…

She hesitates, then swallows, trying to keep her voice steady as she says, “Um… can I buy you a drink?”

There’s a flicker of something in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe surprise—and she’s mentally bracing herself for you to say no when you glance at the bar and say, “Actually, I just ordered one.” Her heart sinks a little, but she forces a smile, trying to play it off. Of course you’re not interested; she should have known better—

Then you’re leaning closer, nudging her elbow with yours, and you smirk, your voice soft and playful. “But you can buy my next one, if you want.”

Paige’s brain short-circuits as your words settle in, her mouth going dry as she realizes what you just said. “Uh, y-yeah, totally,” she manages, trying to keep from looking as giddy as she feels. “I…I’d love to.”

Your smirk turns into a grin, and you’re looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. She’s trying to come up with something smooth to say when, suddenly, one of your friends pops ups beside you and Paige, tugging on your arm, pulling you off the barstool and towards the crowd with a teasing, “Come on!”

Paige opens her mouth to protest, but before she knows it, you’re being swallowed up into the throng of people—not before you send her a quick, apologetic look over your shoulder, your friend still dragging you. Paige frowns, a little disappointed, but quickly catches herself. It’s fine, she thinks, though a twinge of regret lingers. She pushes it aside, grabbing her drink from the bar and returning back to her table, telling herself to focus on celebrating. She’s finally back on the court, and after such a long, difficult recovery, tonight is meant to be about unwinding. So she does, letting her team hype her up as they cheer and clink their drinks in her honor, pulling her deeper into the night.

As the time passes, Paige’s frustration eases, replaced by a warm buzz that dulls everything except the elation of being surrounded by her friends. But even as she sips her drink, she can’t help but think about where you’ve disappeared to, if you’re still here, still laughing with your friends somewhere across the bar. She finds herself scanning the crowd more than once, looking for a glimpse of you. She tries to push it down, laugh it off with another round, but every time she looks around, her gaze seems to search for you.

Eventually, the heat of the crowded bar gets to her. She feels flushed, dizzy from the alcohol and the mass of people, so she slips out the back door for some air. The cool breeze hits her face, and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing as the sounds of the bar fade behind her. She barely has a moment to herself before she notices a figure sitting just a few feet away.

It’s you, sitting on the curb, looking down at your hands as if lost in thought. Paige blinks, unsure if she’s seeing things. But then you look up at the sound of the door closing and smile, that familiar, gentle smile that makes her heart stutter. You seem just as surprised to see her, but your expression softens, like you’re genuinely happy she’s there. And that’s all the encouragement Paige needs.

“You care if I join?” she asks, trying to sound casual, even though her heart’s racing.

“Not at all,” you reply, and she takes a seat beside you, a bit closer than she planned. She feels your warmth even in the night air, and it makes her head spin in a way she can’t blame on the alcohol.

There’s a pause, a comfortable silence stretching between you. Paige watches as you draw patterns in the gravel with your fingers, the lights from the bar casting a soft glow over your face. She swallows, summoning up the nerve to say something—anything that might keep you sitting here with her.

“Why you out here?” she starts, genuinely curious.

You shrug, glancing back toward the bar. “Got a little claustrophobic in there,” you say, voice soft.

“Yeah… me too,” Paige nods, grateful for the fresh air and this quiet moment with you. The silence returns, but this time, it’s charged, heavy with something she can’t quite put into words.

Finally, Paige finds her voice again, her words slipping out before she can think them over. “You’re a good cheerleader, y’know. You do all those flips and shit—it’s impressive.”

You let out a small laugh, looking away for a second as if flattered. Paige is almost certain she sees a faint blush on your cheeks, and the sight makes her smile a little, lips curving upward. “Didn’t know you really paid attention to the cheerleaders,” you respond, teasing.

Paige scoffs, shrugging as if it isn’t a big deal, even though she feels like she’s been caught in some sort of confession—which, she kinda has. “Well, I did sit out for a year, so… I had to find something to watch.”

You tilt your head, smirking as you ask, “So you chose to watch me?”

Paige’s cheeks warm, and she silently thanks the alcohol for the courage that lets her meet your gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs, watching as you look away, biting your lip as if trying to hide a smile. The sight makes her heart skip in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

After a moment, Paige adds, “I think we… had a class together, couple years ago?”

You nod, eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, we did. Sociology, right?” you reaffirm, nodding in tandem with her. “’M surprised you remember that—you always seemed so disinterested.”

Paige nearly blanches, genuinely surprised you’d noticed her too. She didn’t think you’d have remembered her, much less noticed her back then. The notion gives her some of her usual confidence beck and she manages a chuckle, shaking her head and tilting it slightly toward you as she murmurs, “Ah, so you were watching me too, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you as you nudge her shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter, but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed.

There’s another pause, the two of you sitting side by side in the quiet, both of you lingering on the edge of something unsaid. Finally, you break the silence, voice soft and hesitant. “How come you never said anything before?”

Paige swallows, the question catching her off guard. She doesn’t know how to answer without giving herself away, without admitting the way her stomach twists every time she sees you around campus. So instead, she asks, turning the question back on you, “How come you never did?”

You don’t seem to mind that she didn’t really give you an answer. Instead, you just shrug, looking down at your hands. “I don’t know… you make me kinda nervous.”

The confession makes Paige’s heart alight, feeling like it’s on fire and might spread throughout her whole body. She’s used to people being in awe of her for basketball, for her skills on the court. But hearing you say that you feel that way too, like she’s someone more than just her reputation, shakes her. Besides, you’ve always seemed so incredibly at ease around her, never even bothering to look her way. So, almost incredulously, she asks, “Why?”

You scoff, looking at her like she’s missing something obvious. “Um, because you’re Paige Bueckers. Basketball prodigy, campus celebrity.” You raise your eyebrows at her. “I think most people would be.”

Paige feels a rush of warmth at your words, the way you say her name like it means something special. She searches your face, feeling the air grow thick around you, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name. And maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, maybe it’s the way you’re looking at her like she’s somehow both intimidating and endearing at the same time, but she’s feeling bold. Bold enough to keep this conversation going, to see where this moment might lead.

She clears her throat, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Well, if it helps… you make me nervous.”

You laugh, a little breathless, clearly surprised. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” Paige insists. “You ain’t see the way I stuttered around you earlier? Ion know, ma, you just kinda fuck with my head.”

She watches, grin widening, as you blush at her words, the color blooming across your cheeks. It’s addictive, seeing you react like that—because of her. She doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when you ask, gaze set out in front of you instead of on her, “Why would I fuck with your head?”

It’s a good question, one Paige asked herself for a long time. It never took her long to figure out the answer. Though, she’s a little nervous to explain herself.

And she gets even more nervous when your gaze slides back onto hers, your head turning towards her. Paige’s smile falters, just slightly, at the eye contact. It’s intense, the kind that feels like it’s holding the world still for a second. Paige’s heart is a drum in her chest, each beat vibrating through her veins. Her eyes slide across your face, your features, tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the faint shimmer glitter swiped along your eyelids. She catalogues every detail as if she’s never going to get this close again—a very real possibility if she doesn’t up her game.

Finally, she leans in—just slightly—her voice low and steady as she answers you. “You got this positive energy that makes you just… stand out in front of a crowd. Big smile. Bright eyes. Mm, I just… like seeing that in people.”

The words settle in the space between you, warm and lingering. Paige hesitates, letting them wrap around you both before adding, her voice dipping lower, her boldness shooting upward, “And it doesn’t help that you’re too beautiful for your own good.”

You blush deeper this time, cheeks tinted more red than pink, and it makes Paige’s heart skip. She can’t help the way her lips twitch into a grin. She’s waited so long to see this—see you flustered because of her. It’s everything she imagined and more.

“Stop,” you protest, fighting a smile as you push at her hands, your tone not carrying any weight behind the word. Paige just laughs, soft and easy, catching your hand in hers before you can pull away. She lifts it slightly, letting her thumb brush over your knuckles as she murmurs, “Nah, really.”

It’s then that the air changes—shifting into something heavier. The space between the two of you is practically nonexistent at this point, your sides tucked right into each other. You’re staring at one another, and Paige can’t help it when her gaze flickers down to your lips, just for a second. But it turns out to be enough. Because then she sees your eyes dart to her mouth in return, lingering there. And that’s when Paige knows.

Still holding your hand, she locks her gaze on yours, her voice firm but soft when she repeats, “Really.”

It’s like that word unlocks something between you because suddenly you’re leaning in, and Paige is doing the same, her breath catching the moment your lips touch hers. It’s soft, tentative at first, like neither of you are quite sure if this is real. But then you press into her just slightly, and Paige swears the whole world tilts on its axis.

The kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, and Paige feels her whole body light up. Your lips are warm, soft, and you taste faintly of tequila and strawberry chapstick. It’s intoxicating, the way you move against her, gentle but with enough purpose to make her head spin. Paige’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

Your fingers grab at her bicep, holding on like you don’t want to let go, and it sends a thrill through her. Paige’s lips part slightly, and when you follow, letting her slip her tongue into your mouth, it’s like a fire ignites somewhere deep inside her. The kiss isn’t frantic or messy—it’s unhurried, like the two of you have all the time in the world to explore this. She can feel the heat of your skin where her hand cups your face, and she wants to memorize every second, every sensation.

The way you tilt your head just a little, giving her more access, nearly undoes her. Paige tilts her own in response, deepening the kiss further, her fingers slipping from your jaw to the back of your neck. The touch is light, almost reverent, but the closeness makes her heart race.

Your other hand moves, grazing against her side before resting lightly on her hip. Paige’s stomach flips at the contact, her body leaning instinctively closer to yours. She swears she can feel the warmth of your breath between kisses, the subtle hitch when she nips at your bottom lip.

It’s slow, it’s sweet, but it’s intoxicating. Paige swears she’s never kissed anyone like this before, never felt this much just from simple lip-locking. When you pull back slightly—not breaking the kiss entirely, just catching your breath—she can’t help herself. She follows you instinctively, her mouth chasing yours in a way that feels both vulnerable and utterly fearless. You allow her to, tongues half entwined between your swollen lips.

When you finally part, Paige keeps close, her forehead gently pressing against yours, her hand still cradling your neck. Neither of you moves far, the space between you so small your breaths still mingle, soft and warm against each other’s lips. Paige’s eyes flutter open, but she doesn’t look away from you, her gaze locked on yours like you’re the only thing in the world that matters—which, right now, you might as well be.

Her voice comes out lower than she intends, husky and laced with something she can’t quite hide as she murmurs, “You gonna let me buy you that drink now?”

Your lips curve into a slow, easy grin, and Paige feels her chest tighten, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of it. You’re so close she can see the faint glimmer of mischief in your eyes, the way they soften as you look at her.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice soft but sure, “I’d like that.”

The way you say it, the way your smile widens just slightly after, makes Paige’s heart race all over again. She can’t help the small, satisfied smile that spreads across her face. Paige leans back just enough to take in the sight of you—your flushed cheeks, the way your hair’s slightly mussed, and that lingering, breathtaking smile she knows will haunt her in the best way.

“Good,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing your jaw lightly one last time before she pulls away completely, standing up and offering you her hand. When you take it, she holds on a little longer than necessary, leading you back into the bar, already planning how she’s going to keep you smiling for the rest of the night—and, hopefully, much longer afterwards.

[veilkeeper]

i do have to say that i like elgar'nan and ghilan'nain as our primary villains. because they look like cartoon bad guys on the surface but if you look a little deeper and find all those hidden little notes and codex entries, it's obvious they actually do have complexity that they don't want us to see.

ghilan'nain is actively in mourning. not just for andruil, but also for her fucked up little experiment of an archdemon, her most perfect creation, razikale. at the end of fire and ice, she is ready to throw herself into a fight that she might not win because she's blinded by her own grief, and she only doesn't because elgar'nan holds her hand and pulls her away. protects her. we can find notes that talk about how elgar'nan is concerned that she's not taking time to mourn properly. we know she's checked in on her first creations, the halla, despite the fact that she writes about them in this sort of detached, almost patronizing way. she calls them something she made when she was "untraveled and naive" and that she could never make them again, but she visited them just to see what they might have become in her absence. like she cares more than she wants to let herself.

and elgar'nan calls her sister, despite the fact that ghilan'nain is the youngest of them. he lets her experiment on lusacan for the express purpose of cheering her up. and when she dies he seems legitimately torn apart by it. what should be an opportunity for the first of the firstborn to finally become the sole tyrant he was practically made to be is instead him becoming completely and utterly alone, the only remaining of his kind. i don't think it's coincidence that both he and solas drift to each other as they do, even if it is as enemies. they're too alike, and they're also the only remnants of the old world, their world, that either of them have.

i can't say that i'm particularly sympathetic to either of them—they're both unrepentant monsters who have committed atrocities across millenia, but the fact that they have this hidden depth reminds me that at of the day they are not really anything that no one else is. they are very powerful mages that other people called gods. and people can be very sentimental, indeed.

[acid-ixx]

〔00〕 — 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 : perfect perception

DIRECTORY: concept, chapter 00, chapter 01

it was always just you, and your family.

just you, your mother, twin brother, and grandfather. the puzzle is complete, there is no need for an extra couple of pieces to add on to your already satiated life. there is no need to work hard, or to endure painful endeavors to attain what you want; not when your family would complete it all for you.

it wasn't like you could, or should, complain, no? you have everything granted to you from when you were born. scarred hands, jagged figure, weary eyes; those aren't necessary for a person like you, who will always be sheltered, in both cozy blankets and loving arms. oblivious to the cruel world and pesting hands that claw on innocent beings like you.

a steady house life, a mother who shielded your innocence from all the bloodshed within the family's ordeals, who read to you fairytales, who had you sleep in her bed when you feared, when you foresaw what you thought were monsters under your bed. instead of inhibiting hatred for an heir who'd flinch at raising hands and the sound of clanging swords, she encouraged your meak demeanor and even spoiled tantrums. she runs her hands across your silky tresses, and kisses your forehead a thousand times if you'd even mention it in a passing moment. she dresses you in jewels, in velvety, silky clothes, and bathes you in toys and gifts you never seem to ask for. your little body sleeps on her chest, and listen the steady beat of her heart, calm and beating, all for you.

you teach her softness, and the joys of being a mother. a concept foreign in her eyes, raised opposite to you. she sees herself in you, and projects what should've been her childhood to her youngest twin child.

you have a twin brother, who, despite being born only a few minutes before you, was significantly older than you, both mentally and spiritually. from the moment he was taken into the world, his duty to take all your pain away and to become your very light was established. and like the warrior he is, he takes that daunting task and transforms it into motivation. he is your knight in shining armor, the prince who catches you when you fall, the one who braves your nightmares, the swordman to your royalty. he trains, all day and night, from such a young age to protect you from unnecessary dangers he understood even his mother fears you'd be subjected to. he does not complain, he does not find reasons to gripe; he takes the scars, the bruises, the punishments and missions all in stride. if it meant seeing you happy and unaware from all the cruelty of living; then so be it. as long as, by the end of the day, he comes back to your shared room to find your tiny form drawing a childish imagery of the little family you love and cherish.

you teach him compassion, vulnerability, and share with him the admiration for arts.

then there is your grandfather. a hardened leader, a monster to all those who serve, but an idol in the eyes of oblivious you. he justifies violence in the wake of achieving his goals, he doesn't tolerate mankind's treatment of nature and its animals, and takes the lives of those who dares oppose. but you are treated differently, like glass that shatters at the softest of hits. his words are sugarcoated and stripped down to the most infantine of comprehension, his eyes are soft every time he kneels to your level to gently request that you return to your room. ra's does not kneel, he does not plead, he does not stoop to those younger than him. but to you, naive and dewy-eyed, akin to a fawn hiding behind a mother's legs, he does. every week, he takes in various experts in the field of teaching to become your mentors in whatever passion you have. he is the foundation of your growth, and he prides himself in that regard.

from him, you learn your love of animals. from you, he learns of weakness, and defeat to such platonic desires.

with your little family, you are happy. you never have to find reasons to complain about food, clothes, or any luxuries their family, akin to royalty, could obtain. you have a family smothering you in affection, attention, to the point where all you have to do is smile at the slightest thing and notice how they melt to your whims.

you were never alone when you didn't want to, you were always guarded, safe, and constantly served.

as you should, as it always should be.

and it was a routine you were used to. you never complained, you never pondered beyond primitive knowledge, you had never desired for more, or wanted less. life was normal despite the strange arrangements with servants always being by your beck and call, or how your brother would always seem to come seeking you after another day of "hard work" your mother doesn't permit you to try, with gashes that litter his tan skin and usually sharp eyes, still fixed with a glare though softened once your arms come to coddle him as a reward.

he finds comfort in your hold. it never once registered within you his ever-growing strength and how his hold on you would always seem to to tighten whenever a potential friend would pass by.

yet you are loved either way, you are cared for. what more is there to ask when you have and always been the singular pearl dripping with grace, poise, and a softness beyond the brutish weapons swung within the training grounds your brother finds himself in.

you are loved by everybody: by your mother, by your brother, by your grandfather, and you're the necessary voice that calls out mercy for whenever a servant would be punished for maintaining a less than satisfactory performance when it comes to serving you. you're the light of reason beyond instictive swings of the sword and the impulsive raise of a voice demanding for battle to settle a deal; biting your lips in disappointment every time your mother attempts to punish a small mistake a servant would do right in front of you.

although certain voices in the hallways find your presence... unsavory, out of place, or they simply pity you; whispers filtering through the kind words everyone else never withdraws from you— nonetheless, they'd have no choice but to obey your childish whims, to smile at you, to be kind and diligent to your emotions.

everything is perfect.

yes, yes it is. an undeniable fact within the factions of your heart. you ignore the subtle strain within your chest, the way the emptiness becomes blatant, and the misunderstood desire for something else... something greater, far beyond the honor of your current family; and replace it with temporary joy.

a joy that softly smiles at the piling gifts, a joy that teaches itself to be good, to be grateful, and to dismiss the ever-changing spotlight you have for your family.

to ignore their hushed whispers whenever your small, eight-year old form with wide eyes, holding a toy between your chest, inquire about what they're discussing with that requires such... strained air and ridged poses.

to ignore their careful words, their gentle hands that pats your hair, that beckons you to come to a different room, and the irritation and bubbling tantrums paired with the heat that wraps your boiling thoughts and clenching hands.

you ignore, and try to neglect that growing ache that insurmountably never passes.

even if you lay in bed every night, unable to sleep, gaining consciousness slowly but surely after another day passes.

you ignore, and dismiss, and it all becomes a cycle that you ought to never break, to never rupture with childish curiosity and the thirst for wisdom.

... because everything is perfect.

everything is perfect. like the candlelight beams of the moon dancing through victorian styled windows, fluttering past the curtains to kiss your resting body every night you lay sleeping on a king-sized mattress, surrounded by soft, cotton plushies and silky, cool blankets as your brother coddles you; your head laying on his chest like routine.

it is perfect like the gardens of flowers all planted with your favorites, an array of colors harmoniously dancing to the sway of traversing winds and bumbling pollinators.

it is perfect like the daily hustle and bustle of your servants, buzzing through wide spans of hallways with their voices mingling through busy air and the wafting scent of a new delicacy your mother ornately chose for you to try.

everything was perfect, until it wasn't.

until the illusion of completeness, of unity and satisfaction were shattered like the bones of your brother's opponents, powderized to mere dust.

until you take notice of the hollow piece in your heart, until your servant mentions a father (a word so foreign, so similar to mother... but different all the same) in mere passing when you two had conversed whilst they were tying your shoes.

at first, you didn't pay a mind, proposing to yourself that you'd ask your mother instead after you've finished your daily assignments.

but then, unlike every other time where you dismissed, ignored and forgot— you began to ponder.

the word, the meaning, its possible etymology and every historical relationship it might've contained; a lesson your brilliant mentor taught you, one that served as a paveway for curious, little you, to investigate.

a trait you're sure nobody really tackled within your family.

if that is so, then where does your stubbornness, your drive to seek answers, come from?

you try to solve the puzzle pieces, ones you thought were never present in your life, your mind wracking through stored memories of a young, prying individual like you; until you came to a conclusion.

does it possibly come from a... father?

father...?

father?

father.

... your brother, too, said the same word.

when he was tired and beat from his training, when all he wanted was a singular hug, whose hands were stained with dripping ichor and knees bruised from hitting upon rocky ground. his emerald eyes were seeking your presence, and you find how his delirious state, itching for calm after another stormy trial of missions, was abnormal; unlike you who flinched at the dizzying scent of blood.

too mature, now you've noticed. a presence that exudes superiority, that takes the lives of those who rebel, that punishes anything less than perfect; that only softens, whose shoulders only sag when he takes in your presence within the same room as him— traits too foreign in the midst of a brother the same age as you.

so when you denied him of oasis, when your young brain was too scared, too worried and all the more wishing for answers on why he always comes back bleeding and injured, rejecting his offer for you to come closer— he all but seethes, and instead sighs; watching your quivering lips and the igniting fight in your eyes, a shaded mixture of your mother's and his.

"you're exactly like what mother told me. stubborn like our father when inconsolable... but i love you too much, akhi/akhti, to care for your lesser."

he muttered under his breath, emerald eyes gleaming under moonlit glow as he looks at you, emotions too miscellaneous beyond the swirling pools of green that always keeps a watch on you.

sometimes, he feels less like a brother and more of a knight. sometimes, you wish to rebel and instead dig deep into what's been happening to your brother these past few years, shaped by experience you never once caught yourself transpiring through. sometimes, you wish he doesn't treat you like a glass ornament.

sometimes, you wish you had a normal family.

as much as his words were sweet, as much as you would've felt warmth at the mere affection and exception he holds you in regard to his heart, even if he takes your body in his arms prior to your previous rejection, all but melting and rocking your body to sleep; a common method he utilizes to make you feel drowsy, and to eventually forget the blood on his sheathed sword and sinful hands once your eyes drift to a close—

you still reflect upon his words even if weeks had already passed by after that incident, even if he must've thought your somnolence was enough to dismiss whatever was the 'grammatical' mistake he'd mumbled that night was a product of fatigue after a long day of work.

... because despite being the perfect family, despite the love and care they foster within your heart; washing off the beating emptiness in your chest was harder than any injuries you've obtained after momentary clumsiness.

at least you knew when those scars were incurred, at least you had people to comfort you through the tears that escaped through your eyes.

but this immaterial emptiness has long since festered within the confines of your caged soul.

it beckons you to choose rebellion, it traps your thumping heart and tightens its hold on it, snaring it in a pit you couldn't crawl yourself out of.

desire drives you further away from delusion, from the foundations of weaved lies and rose-tinted picturesque perfection.

and you began to crave satiation to at least mend the missing puzzle piece in your heart; piece by piece, stitch by stitch.

who is your father? what is a father? why did dami told me i'm like... our father?

as you sit alone in your bed, toys long forgotten, alone with only the cool breeze fluttering by your window to accompany you. the questions begin to grate at your mind, yet all you do is bring your knees closer to your chest, lips dry at the forgone isolation you put yourself through after a cycle of endless thinking.

"momma will be here soon," you mutter to yourself. your voice, meek and highly pitched, young and cradling childish curiosity; it breaks at the seams when your fingers bring itself to touch and wipe away at wet cheeks and tender, aching eyes.

dami was right; you are stubborn like your father.

because even if they try all necessary means to shroud your life in seclusion from reality— you don't easily back out of a losing fight.

even if the tears you shed from the lack of progress were insurmountable, even if you knew you were at a physical disadvantage shall push come to shove where you'd have to fight your dearest brother, even if it means struggling against the invisible shackle your beloved family locked you in.

because your perfect perception of your fucked up family has long since dissipated from the moment your servant and your brother mentioned a foreign word.

a simple word, a small mistake, yet acting as a newer path of life that long since diverged from the only way you knew how to live.

and you still wish to solve the mystery of your forlorn emptiness.

will you give up just so easily? would the tears you shed all become mere depression?

no, not even as you sit in your too-huge bed, with no clue on where or how to start a hopeless journey; too young to plan, too little to fight, too tenderhearted in the views of your family.

even then, your red, rubbed raw eyes seek to look back on your first hint from within the room

a dictionary was sprawled across the opposite end of the bed, thrown haphazardly, opened to a certain page that highlights words closest to 'father'.

you crawl, with sore arms and wobbly legs, to retrieve the heavy, hard-bound and gold-encased dictionary, lounging on your bed with a damaged spine.

your fingers return to traverse multiple pages yet again—

stubborn, impatient and impulsive.

earlier, it came to you in the form of realization that the dictionary your mentor assigned you to read had a missing word cut precisely with a blade and replaced with an unintelligible one.

earlier, you realized just how much your perfect family was only perfect because they've hidden the truth from you.

earlier should've been years ago, earlier should've never been swept off the rug so easily. but what could an eight year old like you do? you've none of damian's talents to quickly learn, you're raised differently. it is only now you wish you weren't so gullible.

and as your fingers strum against pages, near to ripping out expensive paper, tears unceasing, lips bitten 'til bleeding— you learn, and you grow beyond simple comprehension.

motivation, and the drive to uncover all things unsaid, even if the end would result in something negative.

through them, you'll soon learn of spite, of anguish, and bitter contempt.

but for now, you're merely left alone, with only a mantra of words all circling back to dami's words; so many questions left unanswered.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: honestly don't know half of what i wrote + i don't like this as much as i wanted it to come out. this went through multiple revisions with an added fact of me trying to discern why my writing style keeps fluctuating 😭 guys please comment about what you think of this. if this flops, i'm gonna quit writing LMAO. this is a bit more formal than my usual style (re: again & again) because i wanted to capture the regality of the al ghul's family partly told through the perspective of a child.

taglist: @th0rn118, @obsessedwithromance @rogueofbullshit @ch1cky-093, @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd, @confused-they @biiibs01, @ghostdoodlen, @earlqurl, @chericia, @herebyaccident0, @ilovemyhusbandnanami, @mintynilla, @lilyalone, @anonymousdisco, @plsfckmedxddy, @maria-figueiredo, @143637-hrrm, @neerathebrightstar, @jsprien213, @realifezompire, @sammytheotakunerd, @sh4rk-k1d, @confused-they, @peptox, @lillian-morningstar.

[kngrose]

yandere headcanons: sevika, violet, jinx

WARNINGS: 18+, stalking, manipulation, implied violence, implied abuse, toxic relationships, NONCON touching, forced proximity, blackmail, mentions of punishments

sevika loneliness induction type

Sevika is fiercely loyal to those she associates herself with, and that’s not just anybody. There must be a substance that directly ties her to the cause. And though she’ll never come clean about what the substance is, if she becomes romantically obsessed with you, that loyalty will turn obsessive. She’s a master of control and patience; she’s very practical. Because she’s so calculated, most of her obsessive tendencies will manifest in quiet, almost unnoticed ways.

Her yandere tendencies wouldn’t involve loud outbursts or tantrums. Instead, she would be silently obsessed, methodically planning her moves and slowly, subtly creating a reality where you feel like you can only depend on her. She wouldn’t express her feelings loudly—rather, her obsession would be reflected in small, quiet gestures that make it clear no one else could ever take her place.

Before you two even "met" she was always around. Keeping track of your every move, watching you from a distance, ensuring no one else got too close. She'd follow you, lurking in the shadows, just to make sure no harm came your way—or to make sure you didn’t get too attached to someone else; romantically or platonically. Every time you’d explained the feeling of being watched to your peers, they’d brush it off. “There is nothing unusual about that,” they would say, “look where we live.” You’d suppose they were right. It would feel more strange if you didn’t feel like you were being followed.

Once Sevika finally makes her presence known, anyone who tries to get close to you, even in a friendly manner, will be met with cold, calculating hostility. She will even go as far as to subtly manipulate situations to isolate you from others, all while maintaining the facade of being the perfect ally. She would pay close attention to who you befriended and considered close before deciding who to pluck from your life. And pluck she would. You’ll start to notice slowly but surely that all of your peers have… disappeared. Which is strange; you guys never got into any trouble– you didn’t have any enemies, there’s literally no one who would be singling you all out. “It's dangerous out here,” she’ll say, “It's dangerous and vile and sick. And they couldn't protect themselves.” And she’ll gaze at you, a strange glint in her eyes, “But don't worry. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

She will use her intelligence and strength not just to protect you, but to shape your perception of her. Sevika is good at reading people, so she will slowly play with your emotions—gently pushing your boundaries little by little. To the point where you feel; like you can’t deny her. Her touches would start to linger too long, in places that friends don't touch. Her gazes were too intense. She’s embracing you, kissing you– calling you names friends don't call each other. Every interaction would feel charged as if she’s marking you as hers in ways that go beyond friendship.

Constantly grabbing at the fat of your thighs, dangerously close to your ass. She’s pulling you into her lap, fondling– much to your displeasure. You’ll tell her, “No, that’s not normal…” You’ll make it known that you don’t see her that way. Do you? But she’ll just shush you, tell you to “Relax.”And as the line between “friend” and “lover” would start to blur, Sevika would be pulling the last seam tightly. She’s got you exactly where she wants you.

She would be able to mask her jealousy with a calm and controlled demeanor, but beneath the surface, she would be seething. If you paid attention to anyone else, she’d nod along with the conversation, but her eyes would be cold, flicking between you and the others with disdain, watching for an opportunity to intervene or manipulate the situation. She’d never directly show how much it bothers her, but when you’re gone, she’d ensure that others get the message; your affection is not to be shared.

Aside from someone trying to deter your attention, if anyone ever tried to harm you, Sevika would always retaliate. She's not afraid to get her hands dirty, and her methods of dealing with threats would be brutal. For her, a threat is a threat, and she would see nothing wrong with taking extreme measures to handle it as soon as the opportunity presents itself. She’s not stupid, she won't just jump the gun. She values patience, which would call for a slow, painful death.

She would be adept at playing on your emotions, making you feel guilty if you ever question her or try to pull away. She might say things like, “I’ve always been there for you, haven’t I? So why would you doubt me now?” using her history of loyalty and support to bind you closer to her, turning any moment of doubt into something you feel you must make up for.

If Sevika truly believes you are the one for her, she would convince herself—and eventually, you—that you were meant to be together. Again, she is fiercely loyal and expects nothing less from you in return. In her eyes, she is the only person who truly understands and appreciates you, so anything else would be a betrayal. Please do not test her patience with this. If Sevika makes it clear to you that she doesn’t want you around anyone else, for any reason, do not be caught around anyone else.

When you make a mistake, which you will know when you've made a mistake, she will just give you this look. The look. The one where you know she's pissed off by just a glance. You’re in luck if you're in public; she won't act on it just yet. And she won't act as soon as you get home, either. I feel like Sevika would wait it out on purpose. By this I mean; If you ever did something that upset her, she would be deathly silent; quietly brooding around you, imposing her size on you in an intimidating way. And I'm not talking about a few hours or a day. I'm talking weeks. And it drives you mad. You’ll be walking on eggshells around her, terrified by the deafening silence. What is she thinking? What is she going to do? And this is all according to her plan. She wants you to think she forgot about it so that when she does exact punishment, it will take you by complete surprise. It’s a mind game. And that’s the first thing she’ll break.

violet self sabotaging type

Vi is fiercely protective, passionate, and can be concerningly impulsive, so pairing this all with yandere endencies would bring forth a compelling mix of aggression loyalty and possessiveness. Let’s start where the root of the issue is; she is incredibly jealous. Unhealthily so. Vi's jealousy wouldn’t just be passive; it would be aggressive and reactive. If anyone even looked at you in a way she didn’t like, she’d be quick to intervene, usually with a punch or a threatening glare. Her jealousy would make her irrationally angry—if you decided to pay attention to someone else, she might lash out in frustration, even if she tries to keep a calm exterior.

Vi’s flirtation might be laced with possessiveness—playful jabs or teasing that has an undercurrent of "don’t you dare look at anyone else" embedded in it. If someone else tries to show affection toward you, she would be quick to remind them, through a sharp glare or a fist to the face, that you’re already taken—and that she’s not afraid to be a little violent to keep it that way.

She’s naturally protective over those she loves, but with you that protectiveness would take a much darker turn. She wouldn’t just defend you from external threats—she would also isolate you from anyone she perceives as a potential rival or distraction. Acquaintances, or even strangers would be seen as obstacles in her path, and she might resort to physical intimidation or threats to keep them at bay. She’s not shy about this either; In fact, more often than not you’ll find out this information firsthand as a witness.

She’s so nosy, omg. She has to know everything. Who you went out with the other night? Was that everyone who was there? Why were you out so long? Where did you all even go? Are you keeping something from her?

She’ll try to shrug this off as her being protective, but her protective nature would cross into obsession. Again, she’s not shy about this. She’s always standing close enough to overhear your conversations, idly breathing down your shoulder and making you and the other person uncomfortable. She’s always be nearby, ready to step in if she feels something is wrong. If you try to go out alone, she'd insist on accompanying you, always finding excuses to be in your personal space.

To most people, She would still appear to be the strong, caring, and honestly reckless person they know, but beneath the surface, she would have an all-consuming obsession with you. Anyone who saw her with you might think you both have a maybe somewhat overbearing, but affectionate relationship. But in truth, Vi would always be calculating, and slowly taking control of your life to ensure that you could never escape her.

She’ll always find a reason to touch you—putting a hand on your shoulder or wrapping an arm around your waist, all while making it clear that no one else is allowed this kind of closeness. The more possessive she gets, the tighter and more lingering her embraces would be, and she wouldn’t tolerate anyone else getting too close.

Vi would use her knowledge of your emotions to manipulate you into doing what she wants. You’re trying to distance yourself? No worries, she’ll be sure to draw you back in with sweet words and kisses you can taste– that always worked in the past. But if not? She’s angry, she’s confused. Why would you want to leave someone who’s so selfless and always ready to fight for you?

She’s guilt-tripping you, reminding you of all the things she’s done for you, how much she’s fought for you, and how no one else cares about you the way she does. And if that doesn’t work? Have fun pulling her out of whatever hole she’s about to dig herself into out of pure spite. Drinking herself into oblivion? Picking fights with any and everyone? Threatening to off herself, for fucks sake.

And if somehow her threatening to end her life doesn't work? That’s fine; just be prepared to clear up the most malicious rumors about yourself. The ones that make people alienate you. They’re spreading like wildfire, there’s no way you’ll be able to have it under control. At that point, who else can you turn to? You’ll have no choice but to worm your way back into the relationship you so desperately wanted to leave. The one person who didn’t turn on you in your time of despair. She’s stubborn and she’s childish and she knows this. But it won't deter her one bit. It’s only when you’re back under her arm that the rumors dissipate like smoke, leaving as quickly as they came. It’ll dawn on you then, where they originated.

jinx delusional type

Jinx is not afraid to harm you. Whether it be mentally, emotionally, or physically. Please understand that she is not above that. She has real psychological issues, so in this relationship being very careful is very vital. It might cost you your life. She is constantly putting you to the test, she wants to see what decisions you’ll make, and how you’ll react under pressure. She might create situations to see if you’ll abandon her or stand by her. If she perceives any kind of betrayal, even a small one, her obsession will deepen, and she will lash out to remind you of her hold on you.

She’ll do little things like leaving doors unlocked or leaving a key nearby, all the while watching silently from the shadows, anticipating your next moves. She enjoys creating confusion, making you doubt yourself, and feeding your insecurities, all while maintaining a façade of sweetness and care. More than likely you may start feeling like you’re losing your grip on reality, unsure whether her actions are out of love or something darker.

If you still have your freedom, you might catch her following you if you have a sharp enough eye. Whether it's sneaking into your room, watching you from afar, or listening in on your conversations, she’ll make sure she knows everything about your life. And if you seem distant or don't include her in your world, it sends her into a spiral of insecurity and she tries even harder to make you need her.

Her paranoia is a defining trait of her yandere tendencies. If you show any kind of affection or attention toward anyone else, she snaps, jealousy swallowing her whole. This can lead her to lash out, either through harsh words, tantrums, or more drastic actions. In her mind, only she should have your attention and affection.

You always have to watch what you say, constantly trying to pacify the thoughts in her in the hope that you’re not feeding into them. Sometimes you’ll catch her muttering things to herself as she stares off at nothing, intervening when her muttering starts sounding homicidal. You’ve learned not to let her talk to herself too long, or she’ll start getting confused. Once, she grabbed your face with an iron grip, jerking your face to hers. “You don't need anyone else, right Baby?” She smiled softly, scanning your face, though the smile didn’t meet her eyes. You were dumbfounded– you didn't know how to respond. You didn’t know how she would react– she was so unpredictable– “SAY IT!” You violently flinched, sputtering the words back to you. It seemed to pacify her then, as her soft smile returned and she pecked your lips. “Right..” She’d muttered, petting your hair idly.

Her emotions fluctuate rapidly. One moment, she’ll be sweet and charismatic, trying to be the perfect companion. You’ll almost let your guard down. But in the next, she could snap, lashing out in a fit of rage at any given thing. It could be something as little as you glancing away while she’s speaking; her eyes quickly darting to see what or who’s stolen your attention from her. She’ll feel betrayed.

Because she’s so unpredictable, you’ll never be able to create a mental routine of the “punishments” she gives you. You’ll drive yourself mad just thinking about it; how the hell can she possibly be coming up with so many ways of torment? Sensory deprivation, shock collars, pinning little bombs to your clothes– they won't explode but you’ll think they will. It’s all a game to her, once she feels wronged. She’ll do anything to make you feel the way she does inside, even if that means breaking the moral code.

Jinx loves having control over situations, especially where you are concerned. She’ll "accidentally" sabotage plans or relationships that threaten her sense of control. Or at least she’ll call it an accident when you bring it up. She also collects items that remind her of you—photos, scraps of clothing, anything that holds sentimental value. She’ll hide these items in hidden places as Jinx sees them as proof of her connection to you, and she’ll be upset if they go missing.

Part of me thinks Jinx doesn’t have an end goal, or she has too many. Too many different voices, too many different ideas, too many possibilities. What does she want from you exactly? Well, she doesn’t know. Does she love you? She does! Well, at least she thinks she does. Why else could she feel so passionately about you? But in the same instance– why does she want to break you so badly? Why does she have the urge to hurt you? You’ll catch her staring, shooting her a weary glance; she’s muttering to herself again. You wonder what it’s about this time.

please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist to be notified everytime i post, xx

taglist: @opropheticsoul

[shrimpybbq]

green thumb

synopsis: high school gf loves her veggie garden and so does charlie. rafe is clueless and lacks a green thumb, but does his best to be supportive.

The warm sun shone through the windows of the Cameron house, it’s rays casting a golden hue across the spacious living room that currently housed half of the aforementioned Cameron family. The tall frame of Rafe Cameron lay horizontal on the plush couch, his arms wrapped protectively around the small baby atop chest. His sweet little girl had only been born a few months ago, but she was already growing too fast for his liking. Each day was so precious to Rafe, knowing Emmy would never be this small again, so he cherished the mundane moments like this one, letting her use his chest as a mattress for as long as she wished. He basked in the rise and fall of her chest, the little grunts she let out as her dreams took place.

Rafe had been on the couch for an hour or so, letting his wife spend time with Charlie. The young boy loved his sister, but becoming a big brother was challenging. He was no longer the main focus of his parents and growing used to sharing the attention had been troubling for the boy. He would pout when his mother left his side to feed his sister, clinging tearily to her sleeve. It broke both Rafe and his wife's heart, and the pair knew they needed to do something to make Charlie know he was still just as important as before. That was when they noticed how much the little boy loved his mother's veggie garden. He was always trying to follow his mother outside, eager to play in the soil and spend time with his favourite person.

Each morning, the young mother would climb out of bed silently, her footsteps softly padding across the carpet in an attempt to not disturb the sleeping baby in the room. A soft kiss to her daughter's forehead before she disappeared outside to her veggie garden. At Tannyhill, the girl had grown a few herbs - chives, rosemary, thyme - that sort of thing. Rafe had never really noticed until one day he caught her sneaking out, and thinking the worst he followed her. He had frozen when instead of seeing her leaving the property or meeting another man, she had crouched down in front of the old neglected herb garden. Rose had tried to grow some herbs at one point before giving up on her faux housewife act, and Rafe had never really paid attention to what remained. His curiosity peaked as he watched his girlfriend gently water the soil and pat it in place, humming quietly to herself. Content with knowing her whereabouts, Rafe quietly stalked back indoors, tucking the knowledge away in his mind.

When the family moved to their new home, he decided to surprise his now-wife with a special section in the backyard just for her. He'd spent a few hours one morning while she was in town building planter boxes, filling them with soil and setting up a hose nearby. Rafe was so excited to surprise her once she returned home, covering her eyes with his hands as he led her out to the yard. Little Charlie sat on her hip despite her pregnant belly, his hands clinging to his mother.

"Hey-hey! No peeking! Don't you dare," Rafe muttered as she tried to move her head away.

"Just tell me, please?" She begged, growing impatient. It didn't help that Rafe's guiding skills left a lot to be desired.

"Just know that you're gonna like it, 'kay?"

When his hands dropped away from her eyes, she gasped softly. The perfect little garden set-up stood in front of her, all ready to go. Eyes wide, she turned to Rafe.

"Wha- how, I- how did you know?" She questioned incredulously. No-one had ever done anything like this for her. Rafe grinned down at her as his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his frame.

"I have my ways," he drawled cheekily, "I did good, huh?"

He watched as she nodded, turning to Charlie, "Should we go have a look?" The little boy nodded and Rafe stood on proudly as his wife and son went to investigate the new garden.

Rafe noticed Emmy stirring, the girl beginning to grumble as her hunger grew. He knew she needed to be fed or soon, the whole neighbourhood would hear the girl's screams. As he slowly pandered out to the yard, his eyes fell upon his wife and the small blond boy crouched at her side. With a watering can in one hand, Charlie gently delivered water to the small carrot and tomato plots. He squealed in excitement as his mother praised him for his effort, gently patting the soil around the growing vegetables as she did the same. Rafe looked at the two proudly, wishing he didn’t need to interrupt them, but alas, little Emmy began to whine loudly, catching the attention of her mother. She turned around quickly to see the small girl baby tucked securely in her father’s arms, and stood up.

“Hungry?”

“Don’t you know it,” Rafe grunted. He handed Emmy over to his wife’s outstretched arms.

“She’s just like you, never full,” she sighed, exasperated, before undoing the oversized button up of Rafe’s she wore.

The pair settled into a moment of comfortable silence as their daughter latched, her little hands reaching to cling to the shirt lapels. Calm spread but only for a moment.

“Daddy! Look! Strawberry!” Charlie shouted. Rafe stalked over to his son and crouched down to match his height. It was almost comical to see such a tall man make himself so small, especially when he couldn’t control the expression of slight discomfort covering his face.

“Wow bud, look at that… did you and your mama do that?” Rafe grinned as Charlie nodded, pleased with himself. Rafe had never fully been able to get into the groove of gardening, finding the waiting too painful to ever properly enjoy the art. But for his son, he would do anything - and so he played along. He would ask questions, get his son to show his new plants, praise his little sprouting vegetables and make sure his son knew he was proud of him. He wasn’t above forgetting which seed plot was which, but he tried. For a few moments, silence blanketed the family as an engrossed Charlie continued to tend to him plants.

���Mama and I have carrots too!” The boy exclaimed.

“Oh yeah? When are we gonna eat them, little man? How much longer until they’re ready?” Rafe asked, reaching his hand out to steady Charlie as he began to lean over the garden. Charlie looked up at his mother questioningly, the woman now seated on the bench nearby. She hummed softly as she thought for a moment,

“Maybe another month or two? We only planted them last week, C.”

The boy returned his gaze to Rafe, smiling at his father. Rafe looked down at his mini-me, sighing as he picked the boy up in his arms, standing and walking over to his wife. She had finished feeding Emmy now, and had the sweet little girl resting against her chest.

“Good thing we still have a grocery store nearby, huh?” Rafe chuckled, “Not gon’ starve.”

He grimaced at the sudden pinching sensation against his bicep, High School Gf sending a glare to him as she pulled her hand away. Shit.

“But hey - once those carrots are ready, we should make a big salad. You know that one you like, bud? We can make it for dinner one night. How’s that sound?” The momentary anxiety was evident in the way Rafe quickly spoke, desperately hoping to avoid a meltdown from the toddler. He was at an age where his sensitivity was high.

“Promise, daddy? And we have ice cream after?”

Both Rafe and High School Gf exhaled with relief. Crisis averted. Rafe nodded down at his son and when the boy extended out his pinky finger to affirm their promise, he grinned.

“Pinky promise, C.”

the pure domesticity of this would be sickening to the old rafe lol

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 2 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 3.8k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing, adult themes (not smut lol) (yet) (jk) (unless...), the mission finally starts, so much plot from here on out y'all so buckle up

a/n. i didn't get to include the most important bits that were supposed to be presented in this chapter because i got carried away with the buildup lol. exciting times ahead y'all. i have so much in store for you with this series. don't be a stranger and let's talk!

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

You can only stare back at the woman peering at you, her face painted with a thick layer of makeup, her hair styled to staged ‘effortless’ perfection, and her body wrapped in an outfit that’s equal parts provocative and refined.

Her image is so flawlessly curated—so much so that you barely notice the apprehension that’s hidden amidst her features, if it weren’t for the fact that that woman is you.

You can barely recognize yourself—and perhaps that’s the point of all this.

Asahi and Moriyama didn’t have to explicitly state it yesterday—they need you to put in every ounce of effort to make sure that you succeed, and that includes doing everything you can to supplement your quirk all the while keeping your real identity lowkey.

Even if it means looking like this.

You’re about to give in to your second thoughts and change out of the black, low-cut tank and beige cardigan you have on when an array of knocks echo from what you think is your front door, and you freeze.

With a cautious glance at your bedroom’s wall clock, you think you’re supposed to feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see that it’s 9:00 PM on the dot, the exact time Bakugou said he’d pick you up, which means no villain or mal intentioned person is at your front porch, but that doesn’t come.

Instead, the sense of dread that’s been stirring in your gut ever since you got swept by Asahi’s men yesterday only magnifies, leaving you a bit cold and…are you shaking?

You don’t get to dwell on that, though, because another round of rapping resonates from your foyer again, which somehow pulls you out of your nervous stupor. You hurriedly run to the door, not even bothering to check through the peephole, opening it with a turn of the knob to see Bakugou.

Wearing a white face mask and decked in a fitting black hoodie, with his ash-blonde hair peeking through the sides of a dark baseball cap.

His fist is frozen mid-air as he stares at you, eyes slightly widened in shock, as if he didn’t believe you’re capable of this thing called punctuality. He promptly brings it down, though, schooling his expression into a neutral one, but not before giving you a quick once-over.

“Hey,” he offers, voice gruff and way lower than you remembered it back in high school.

“Hello,” you counter, looking back at your messy apartment out of habit. “I’m almost done. I just need to grab my purse.”

And, because you genuinely need to know for the sake of what you’re about to do, you ask: “Do I look okay?”

He must’ve not been anticipating that question, because his eyebrows furrow ever so minutely like you just caught him off guard. “Yeah,” he eventually replies after studying the entire length of your body once again.

And, you may have just imagined it, but you swear to god his eyes linger on your chest for a beat longer than necessary before he meets your gaze.

“You clean up…” he pauses, like he’s grasping for the right adjective, before settling with: “…decent.”

At that, you feel yourself deflate a bit. Maybe you wanted a more affirming answer, definitely not because you want that from him, but because you need to look good. However, if there’s anything the rumor mill told you back when you were still teenage students, it’s that Bakugou Katsuki was a man of few words when he was serious, let alone appreciative, so you take his comment in stride.

Besides, in comparison to how you looked yesterday, anything is an improvement, really.

“Thanks,” you respond, and you debate for a second whether or not to say the next thing but ultimately decide on it. “…And you look mildly disguised.”

That seems to ruffle Bakugou’s feathers. “Mildly?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling unsure about your honesty. “I get the hoodie and the cap and the face mask, but there’s no hiding your hulking frame, man.”

And really, there isn’t. How are you supposed to conceal a torso as large as that?

You gesture to his chest and shoulder area for further emphasis. “I don’t think you can pass up as a regular citizen but like as a non-descript athlete, maybe?”

To your dismay, Bakugou merely grunts before shaking his head. “This’ll work.”

Apparently already over your suggestion, he glances past your shoulder as he shifts his weight on his other foot. “Can you grab your purse now? We’ve to get going.”

Now, you’ve got half a mind to argue and try to convince him that maybe going for a better disguise is better in the long run but you’re silenced by his domineering gaze. So instead, you nod before rushing back to your bedroom and grabbing the bag you already prepared beforehand, as well as your phone that’s charging on top of your bedside table.

Although it won’t be of much use later, or in the coming few weeks, if everything goes according to plan.

“Ready?” he asks when you return to the doorway with your things in tow.

“Yup,” you retort as you lock the door behind you, and just like that, you’re well on your way to a potential death sentence.

You’re in the elevator going down to the ground floor by the time he speaks up again. “We’re commuting,” he starts, not looking at you but instead scrutinizing the barely hanging on floor buttons. “Can’t risk raising suspicion by driving there.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” you ask just as the elevator dings, signifying your arrival.

The doors burst open, and he steps out. “You’ll see.”

The commute to wherever the hell it is you two are going is quiet.

Bakugou didn’t divulge any further details as you stepped out of your building, wordlessly ordering you with a stern look to just follow. Frankly, you don’t like how you’re being kept in the dark, but you don’t contend. You’re acutely aware that you have a limited number of cards to play with Bakugou, and you have to play them right, if you want to even survive this mission without your partnership falling apart and jeopardizing the entire thing. Wasting a card on stupid information would be downright foolish on your end.

Even the walk to the bus stop is silent, and so is the entire ride. Despite it being quite late into the evening, the vehicle is still somewhat crowded, which you chalk up to it being a Friday night. You find yourself relaxing in your seat as the realization dawns on you—perhaps there was no point in getting too riled up about getting noticed.

And besides, you’re taking extra precautions, too. You’re not sitting next to each other, because he’s trying to stave off attention while you’re straining to catch it. Maybe not of these strangers, but of the people you’re going to meet later on.

Roughly 10 minutes and a short subway ride later, you climb up the underground stairs to a stop you vaguely remember hearing from your coworkers about. You recall how she described an old party district right in the middle of Musutafu, and sure enough, the text on the street signs match the name she recounted during one of your lunch breaks.

“Over here,” Bakugou calls out from a few feet ahead of you. You quickly quit your observing and follow suit, mindful of keeping an appropriate, not at all questionable distance between the two of you.

After what felt like walking five blocks from the subway, you see Bakugou halt and make a left into a poorly lit alleyway. You hesitate for a second, having been on autopilot and going straight for the last how many minutes. You’re able to swiftly gather yourself, though, steering in the same direction.

The moment that you do, it instantly registers to you that you’re not just in the party district anymore. If the dingy signages and the palpable seediness of the alley are any indication, you’re most likely in the red-light district now.

Suddenly, everything feels a bit too real, and you barely catch yourself stumbling back on your feet. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou, who instinctively moves to reach out for you from where he’s standing. He pauses, though, when you’re able to regain your bearings with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“Sorry,” you offer meekly.

He eyes you with the very same inexplicable expression from before. “You good?”

You’re not about to tell him you’re scared shitless, so you give him a half-hearted nod. Turning to study the exterior of the small building, you take in the lightly peeling paint and the booming music emanating from it. “This the place?”

“Yes,” he answers without missing a beat. “Are you sure you’re good?”

You whip to look back at Bakugou, who, if you didn’t know any better, is now looking apprehensive.

You decide then and there that you have to get your shit together.

Bravery is contagious, but so is fear.

For a second, you contemplate using your quirk on yourself to calm your nerves down, but eventually decide against it. There are much bigger fish to fry tonight, and what’s the point of learning all those damned breathing and grounding techniques if you’re not going to use them?

“I’m ready,” you finally tell him after a moment of both of you standing there. “Let’s go in before we start looking unusual out here.”

If Bakugou notices the unease you’re sure you’re radiating, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he gives you a curt nod, before turning to open the door.

And when he does, you’re almost instantaneously flooded by the music that was just escaping through the cracks and crevices of the run-down building. You fight the instinct to cover your ears as you step into the large room behind Bakugou, eyes quickly darting all over the place to drink in the scene before you.

Right in the back of the space is a stage that extends in the center as a runway to the middle of the room. The orange and pink mood lights illuminating the area are relatively dim minus the bulbs lining the set and walkway. And, beneath the elevated platform are what have to be pleather seats littered all over the floor—all of which are occupied by decidedly rambunctious men.

You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose as their boisterous laughter fills your ears, opting to face Bakugou instead.

“Hey,” you call out to him, who stops in his tracks to look at you. You sneak a glance at the people at the bar nearest the two of you, just to make sure they’re not listening in, before you continue. “Are you sure this is the place?”

You don’t have to peek beneath his mask to know he’s now scowling at you.

“What am I, a dumbass? I told you, this is it.” He then shifts away from you, far enough that you barely hear his next words. “…It has to be.”

Well.

That’s not exactly comforting.

Your discomfort only heightens when the already faint lights dim further, and the music switches from a pop song to which you know a bit of the lyrics to a rap that, if you were to base it on the first phrase, is all about having explicit, unprotected sex. The crowd of men cheers in anticipation, and as if on cue, a woman dressed in nothing but a two-piece lingerie emerges from the back of the stage, confirming your speculation of what the place is.

A strip club.

You watch as the woman confidently struts towards the center, and apparently, you’re no better than any of the men here because your gaze slowly roves over her slim and toned body, eyes catching at her cleavage that’s leaving nothing to the imagination. You can’t help it—you look down at your own chest, sinking in disappointment at the contrast before promptly looking up in embarrassment, only to find Bakugou studying you closely.

“It’s a strip club,” you blurt out, flustered at getting caught in the act. His eyes only narrow in a way that tells you what you’re already telling yourself: Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, much to your relief, only moving to the far corner of the room where there are miraculously two seats unoccupied. You follow him with no further questions asked, plopping in the chair to his right, thankful you’re wearing black trousers so that your skin doesn’t have to go into contact with the sticky furniture.

You take the opportunity to clock the rest of the room, cataloguing the bar at the other end of the area near the entrance where a barista is swiftly taking and making orders all at the same time, while the men seated on the stools struggle to decide whether to look at the man or at the stripper now performing an elaborate dance around the pole. Amidst the decorated wall adjacent to the bar is a door with a restroom sign on it, and you squint just enough to see it’s only one stall for everyone. You make a mental note to hold in your pee, at least until you get out of here.

And, because you’re feeling nice, you shift to regard Bakugou with a good-natured smile on your face. “I hope you peed right before leaving your house.”

“What?” he says loud enough for you to hear him over the noise they’re calling music. “I can’t hear you.”

“Shit, right.” You lean in ever so minutely, and Bakugou mirrors you. You try to ignore the new-found proximity. “I said,” you repeat, with a little more volume this time, “I hope you peed right before fetching me. I bet the toilet’s filthy as shit.”

To your delight, not that you’d admit that to him in this lifetime, Bakugou smirks at your little quip after confirming the lone comfort room with his own eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, princess,” he starts, and you stiffen at the nickname, “I’m not the one who has to sit on one.”

You’re about to retort with something along the lines of what if he has to poop out of the blue, or at least try to, because the pet name has you gagged against your better judgment, when a ridiculously tall man clad in all black appears out of nowhere, startling you.

“The f—”

“Dynamight,” the behemoth of a guy cuts you off, eyes trained on the pro-hero beside you and completely ignoring your presence. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Took you long enough to approach me,” Bakugou sneers, oozing with the confidence you can’t find within yourself right now. “I hate sleazy places like this.”

To that, the man only bows his head slightly, face solemn but devoid of remorse. You watch him as his eyes finally drift to you, albeit for only a split second, before looking back at Bakugou. “Follow me, sir.”

The ash blonde does so, perhaps a tiny bit begrudgingly, and you speedily get up along with him. The two men turn to move, and you’re about to take a step closer towards their direction when a long arm shoots up in front of you, keeping you in place.

Any protests die in your throat when you look up and see the guy’s menacing glare.

“If you don’t mind,” he grits through his teeth, “Only Dynamight is needed.”

“She’s with me,” comes Bakugou’s commanding tone. You chance a glance at the pro-hero, whose countenance is so serious you’d be afraid if you were the one he’s talking to.

“But, sir—”

“It’s the two of us or we’re leaving,” Bakugou demands.

The two engage in a stare down which you witness for what feels like a few minutes before the man finally looks away, frustration etched across his intimidating features. He glares at you once more, as if you’re the one who’s insisting on being Bakugou’s plus one, and you’re about to be convinced that he’s mentally chanting a spell to make you disappear when he gestures for you to follow him with a flick of a head.

You gradually release the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you shadow them as they enter one of the doors on the wall perpendicular to where you were just stationed. It leads to a staircase that swerves in the middle, and you lock eyes with Bakugou as he makes the turn ahead of you. Neither of you says a word, opting to keep on trailing the man, even as you land on the second floor, which looks more and more like a prostitution den.

Once again, your conjecture is confirmed as you walk down the hallway and past several sets of doors on both sides, from which emanate a cacophony of sensual moans and groans. You wonder what Bakugou’s thinking right now, although you can’t get a read on him as you can only observe his backside.

Finally, after what seems like a tortuous eternity, the man stops right in front of the door at the end of the hallway, and you pause right behind him.

He looks back at Bakugou and you with what you’re pretty sure is caution, before knocking on the door twice, and then another two times but in rapid succession.

“Come in,” is what the muffled voice on the other side says.

And so you do.

You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting, because you’ve never actually been in a service room before, but you at least anticipated a bed on which certain…activities can be done.

But what you’re met with instead seems to be a refurbished lounge room with floor-to-ceiling brick walls, black and red quilted couches, and a bar at the far side all lit up with moody orange lighting.

And smack dab in the middle of it—sprawled so languidly all over the furniture—are three individuals.

Three individuals who immediately look at Bakugou.

It’s them, alright. You don’t need your extensive training in reading people to know that these are the ones you came all the way here for.

You quickly take note of their appearances. The seemingly old man who has to be in his late 50s is seated—quite relaxed—in one of the scarlet solo chairs. He’s slim, bordering on frail, but the glint in his eye as he peers at Bakugou tells you that it’d be unwise to rule him out as one of your main threats.

Juxtaposing his age which is further revealed by his shoulder-length salt and pepper hair is the young woman plastered on the couch adjacent to his.

Or maybe ‘woman’ is a bit too generous…

It’s not obvious at first glance, but you immediately notice how some of her body parts appear to be outright robotic in the literal sense. Perhaps it’s her long, pin-straight, jet-black hair that softens her entire look, but there’s no mistaking what seems to be an artificial left eye, a metallic right arm, and angled, silver lips. She’s wearing long pants so there’s no telling which other parts of her are made up of what you think is steel, but the ones visible to you already tell you enough.

And then there’s the third and last man, who, in comparison to the other two, is remarkably…plain.

There isn’t an air of age-induced wisdom around him, nor is there anything peculiar about his body. He looks like just about any other 40-year-old-ish Japanese man you know, with short black hair, an unassuming face, and semi-formal clothes that are quite loose on his not-buff but not exactly thin body either.

But to your surprise, it’s him that the hilariously huge guy from earlier directly reports to.

“Pro-hero Dynamight, sir, as you requested. And…” the ‘escort’ trails off, and for a split second, you feel kind of sorry you’re here and making things complicated for him. “…he brought company.”

“Finally,” the plain-looking man pipes up from his seat, and even his voice is generic. “And here we thought you were never going to come meet us.”

Placing what suspiciously looks like a glass of whiskey on the table in front of him, the man shifts to fully regard Bakugou. “I see that you’ve deciphered the messages we’ve been sending you?”

“No shit,” comes Bakugou’s blunt response, and for a beat, you seriously consider using your quirk on him to make him calm the fuck down.

You decide against it.

To your chagrin, he drones on. “Y’all gotta do better. That was barely even a code.”

At that, the old male barks out a laugh while the plain-looking man only chuckles. “Of course, we expect nothing less from the #2 pro-hero. But…” the latter trails off, eyes finally landing on you. You quickly put on the most endearing smile you can muster, suddenly regretting not touching up your makeup upon sitting earlier. Thankfully, though, he smiles back, before redirecting his focus back on Bakugou.

“I see you brought precious cargo. Is there any reason why she’s here with us?”

“We want in your organization,” Bakugou replies without hesitation. “The both of us.”

And when none of them say anything in response, Bakugou presses.

“You need me, right? I heard you’re planning an attack. I want to join.”

“Yes,” the old man finally speaks up, not even denying it yet his voice is riddled with misplaced humor. “We do, in fact, need you. But what use do we have of this girl?”

“She’s got a useful quirk,” Bakugou supplies, before turning to look at you and then back at them. “Luck. She boosts the success rate of anyone she works with.”

“Luck?” the old geezer says back so incredulously, you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. If he only knew what you were fully capable of. He can’t, though, if you want to get out of this entire situation alive. “I don’t think we’ll need that as long as we have you, boy.”

“Well, tough luck,” spews Bakugou, a little bit too sarcastically for your comfort. “Because, as I’ve told your little lackey here,” he gestures to the definitely not little guy from earlier, “It’s both of us or I’m out.”

“The both of you, huh?” muses the plain-looking man who’s seeming to be more and more like the leader of the group by the second.

Once again, silence envelopes the room when none of them utter a single word, with you and Bakugou watching in anxious (you) and impatient (him) anticipation. You observe their facial expressions as they have a wordless exchange, and judging by how the ancient and the robotic girl are looking at the ordinary man, you guess your hunch about him is right.

Eventually, they appear to reach an agreement, and the leader adjusts just enough to look at the both of you directly.

You brace yourself with bated breath.

He flashes you a modest smile.

“It’s a deal, then.”

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

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TW: Conversion "Therapy" Mention / Homophobia

AN: Sorry this one took a while! - longer than I'd like away!. Coming back from a mini vaca and getting back into work and routine is a nightmare, also my delicate sleep schedule is ruineddd. Anywho, we should be back in business now! :) now, DJ play Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan!

Transcript under the cut

Geoffrey: Great job, bud! Tree is looking great!

Malcolm: It’s because I’m a decorator like mommy.

Jonathan: Mom, are you leaving? We’re supposed to decorate the tree too.

Nancy: Save a few ornaments for me to put on there, darling. Mommy has to step out for a couple hours.

Geoffrey: Johnny’s right, you know. Decorating it is apart of the deal.

Nancy: Can’t you spare me an hour or two?

Geoffrey: Remember what I said about being there?

Nancy: That’s not fair. I’ve been doing better, haven’t I? I left work early, which I’m hardly ever able to do and we found the tree together. I haven’t seen Vanessa in 16 years, Geoffrey. This is important to me.

Geoffrey: Yeah, well, this is pretty important to them.

Nancy: Please don’t make me feel guilty about this.

Geoffrey: It’s just you and Vanessa, right?

Nancy: [frowns] Yes, of course. I’ll be back, ok?

-

Vanessa: I’m glad you came.

Nancy: I wouldn’t have miss this for the world.

Vanessa: You look so beautiful tonight.

Nancy: [blushes] So do you. You’ve always have.

Vanessa: [smiles] I wasn’t sure on your choice of champagne, so I hope you don’t mind we have mine. I guess it’s one of the many things we’ll have to learn about each other.

Nancy: This is perfect. I’m sure I’ll love anything you like.

Nancy Narrates: [I found myself unable to eat. Instead, I got my fill of her. I studied her, consumed the sight of her with greedy, curious eyes]

Nancy Narrates: [It thrilled and frightened me the way she took me in too, as if she was trying to recall all those precious details that may have gotten lost in time. Seeing all the ways I could have changed and stayed the same]

Nancy Narrates: [One thing was for certain: my heart still raced the moment our fingers found one another, just like when we were girls. It was a delicate and familiar touch that I could feel from inside, and it was almost as if no time had passed at all]

Vanessa: [softly] Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, the woman you’ve become. I’ve thought of you, over time, what kind of woman you grew up to be.

Nancy: Is it what you expected?

Vanessa: Successful? Powerful? Stunning? Yes, I like to think so.

Nancy: I’ve thought of you too.

Vanessa: Yeah?

Nancy: I thought about what you did, after high school. Who you became. If you fell in love. If you thought about me too. Feels good, knowing you did.

Vanessa: I think holding on to the version of you I remembered kept me sane, after all this time. Do you mind if I smoke? Helps my nerves.

Nancy: As long as I can bum one.

Vanessa: Hey, do you remember our first cigarette together?

Nancy: How could I forget?

Vanessa: Share a light with me. For old times’ sake?

Vanessa: So, care to share all those burning questions you said you had for me?

Nancy: Now I feel like I’m being put on the spot.

Vanessa: Oh, come on. Don’t go shy on me now. How’s this? I’ll ask a question, then you, and so on.

Nancy: Alright. Shoot.

Vanessa: Do you still talk in your sleep?

Nancy: I- what!? I did not talk in my sleep!

Vanessa: Oh, yes you did. Full sentences too. You monologued even.

Nancy: Fuck off, I did NOT talk in my sleep! How would you know anyway? You were practically narcoleptic. I’d be up for hours after you fell asleep.

Vanessa: [murmurs] Still talks in her sleep- in denial about it. Ok. Got it. Your turn.

Nancy: I’ll ask a REAL question this time.

Vanessa: [smirks] That was a real question. I came all this way just to know but ok, ask away.

Nancy: Well, speaking of ‘all this way’. Where do you live?

Vanessa: Here and there. I don’t like to sit in one spot for too long; I get restless. Bored. I’ve spent the last 6 months in Tomorang. Beautiful people. Lovely culture. That’s actually where I heard your name mentioned for the first time. You’ve got quite the reputation over there. You’ve been up to no good, I hear.

Nancy: Christ...long story. Please don’t ask. Are you thinking of moving here?

Vanessa: Ah, ah. It’s my turn. Let’s see...ah! Who’s idea was it to make Geoffrey ‘Mr. Landgraab’. That’s probably the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.

Nancy: My parents, of course. They didn’t want to erase the family name and since they no longer have a son to continue their legacy- well. You get it. Speaking of marriage, are you married?

Vanessa: No, I’m not married.

Nancy: Well. Are you...seeing anyone?

Vanessa: [smirks] No.

Nancy: Children?

Vanessa: No children either. Those counts as a question, by the way.

Nancy: Oops. Ok, ok, you can ask two then. It’s only fair.

Vanessa: I guess I’ll ask a ‘real question’ then. Are you happy like this?

Nancy: [pauses] Like...what?

Vanessa: Married. Married to him. Does it make you happy?

Nancy: [shifts] I care for him very much. He’s the father of my children. He’s a good man and he’s good to me. Why are you asking me this-

Vanessa: Do you still like women?

Nancy: Do you?!

Vanessa: You have to answer my question first-

Nancy: Did you get my voicemail? November 2nd, 1993. I called you and I left you a voicemail. Did you hear it?

Vanessa: Nancy-

Nancy: Why didn’t you call me back? What—what happened to you, Vanessa? Where did you go? Where have you been!? Why, after all this time, am I just now seeing you?

Vanessa: It’s not really the easiest thing to talk about, but I know I owe you closure. [exhales] After I was pulled out of school, my father had me admitted. I received treatments to ‘fix’ me. Every time I fucked up and pissed off my father, he’d pack me up and ship me off until I came back normal and obedient.

Vanessa: There were days I thought I couldn’t keep going on like that, but then I heard your voicemail, and it... scared me. It made me angry. It broke my heart, but most importantly, it woke me up. I finally found the strength to escape my father and live my own truth. It cost me everything—my family disowned me. I relinquished my fortune, but in return, I’m free. I’m free, and I can live the life I deserve. I just... I wish I could have called, but life didn’t work out that way.

Nancy: It should have because I did call you, Vanessa.

Vanessa: I know.

Nancy: [weakly] I said that I loved you..

Vanessa: I know, I know...things were different for me back then.

Nancy: Things are different now! I’m married. I’m a mother!

Vanessa: I know, Nancy. I didn’t come here to break up a happy home.

Nancy: Why did you come here?

Vanessa: Can’t a girl miss her best friend?

Vanessa: Listen. I’ve thought a lot about how I would fit into your life if I ever got to see you again, if this was something you would want at all. That time we shared in our youth was the happiest I’ve ever been. I missed that feeling. I’ve missed you. I’m in a place to explore a friendship with you again, if you want it. If not, then I’ll accept that.

Nancy: I do want this. I want you here. I just...I can’t...

Vanessa: I know. It could be simple. Easy. I miss you, Nancy.

Nancy: [sighs] I miss you too. I’ve missed you so much.

[0mg-bird]

bombshell of the bau was soo good, I need more of those two pls!!!

Aghhhhhh thanks! Okay, upon popular demand, here’s a part two.

Bombshell Of The BAU~ Part II

Spencer Reid x Fem!Agent Reader

Summary: With all the attention you get, it’s hard to hide something as scandalous as what you and Spencer have going on. Often times, it comes down to stolen moments and too close calls.

But you don’t expect the team to find out the way they do.

Warnings: Tehehehehe. Okay, 18+ content, suggestive material, smut, MDNI, um they’re so cute! Morgan being a c!ck block on like too many occasions, slight voyeurism kinda?? Exhibitionism kinda? Two second mention of Reid’s addiction. Reader gets hurt by UbSub but she’s fine. Idk, enjoy.

“You sure you don’t want a drink?” Emily asks as she walks with you down the hallway.

You pull the clip from your hair so it softly falls down around your face. A sigh leaves your pouty lips that are long gone of lipstick.

“After the day I had? I’d much rather take a very long shower, order room service on Hotch’s dime and watch Sex and The City.”

Emily laughs. “That sounds pretty perfect to me. Hey, did Morgan really make you crawl up in that attic?”

A shiver runs through you. “I don’t want to relive that trauma.” You claim.

She rubs your arm affectionately. “Well, you try your best to recover.”

“I’m a fighter, I’ll be okay.” You say dramatically, flicking your hair out of your face.

Emily drops you off at your door. “Call me if you need anything.” She says.

“Aw, sugar, I can always count on you.” You place a kiss on her cheek, the way you always do as a goodbye to your female agent friends.

You dig the room key from your pocket and press it into the slot. Though, you don’t push the door open, you instead look to the elevator where Emily disappears in, headed down to the lobby where most of the team resides.

When the coast is clear, you briskly turn further down the hall, passing multiple doors until you come to stand at the right one. Sparing another glance over your shoulder, you raise your knuckle to the wood.

The door opens after two knocks, and that arm raised in the air is grabbed and tugged, making you fall swiftly into the room.

You let out a soft giggle, though it’s cut off by an equally smiley kiss.

The door clicks shut behind you as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Spence.” You sigh dreamily against him. “Long time, no see, handsome.”

He pulls back to look down at you, that lopsided smile you love so much, playing on his lips.

“I saw you this morning at the station.” He reminds, letting his hands roam up your sides to hold your face.

He’s learned how to be comfortable in his actions, knowing now that you aren’t going to push him away when he reaches out. For three months, the two of you have been hiding this well kept secret, and maybe it was wrong to keep something like this from the team but…

Both you and Spencer agree that it’s nice, having something to yourselves.

So that’s why the two of you steal away any moments you can, like being on the same hotel floor after solving a case.

You give a pout. “But I’ve been stuck with Morgan all day. He was so cruel to me.”

Spencer matches your rutted lower lip. “Oh, he was cruel, huh? How was he cruel, angel?”

You love it when he calls you that.

Your hand slips into the hair on the back of his head, it’s definitely gotten a little longer.

“Made me follow him all around town, boosted me up into an icky crawl space to search for evidence.” You explain, trying to kick your heels off.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Spencer jokes, his thumb rubbing your cheek.

“It was a miserable, miserable day.” You sigh, dropping a few inches in height once your shoes are off. “But I’m here now and let me tell you, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Spencer gets that slight blush he always does. “Have you?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pulling him down for another searing kiss.

Instantly, lips are parting and he’s tasting that unique-to-you taste of your tongue. Maybe it’s a placebo effect, but after awhile, he’s addicted to that sweet flavor that lingers on your lips.

You sigh and melt into him, ready to forget about all the work the two of you went through today. Taking your hand, you grasp one of his and bring it down to your belt. He gets the hint, then quickly tries to get you out of the clothes you can’t bear to be in any longer than you need to be.

While you pull his tie loose, he pulls the concealed carry holster from where it was tucked inside your waist band. He sets it on the nearby table, then pulls your shoulder holster off. You chuckle against him as you pull his own fire arm off and join it with the other two.

“So many guns.” You comment.

Without a risk in the way, he untucks your blouse. “Occupational hazard.” He adds.

Slowly, articles of clothing are making a home on the floor, and once you’re down to your underwear, you’re falling onto the bed with a laugh.

“You’re on my hair.” You wince.

“Sorry.” He adjusts, gripping your waist as he flips the two of you over.

Knees on either side of his hips, you’re free to do the thing you’ve been thinking about all day. Your favorite thing is the little gasp Spencer gives you when you first create a dizzying friction against him. You absorb it with your mouth on his, hands on his cheeks, manicured nails slightly pressing into his skin. You still haven’t figured out what flips inside of you, or what it is exactly that he does that makes your brain think ‘I want to eat him’.

“What time are we flying out tomorrow?” You ask, placing his hands on your hips.

His fingers flex into your skin, and drags you against his lap.

“7:00.” He answers, knowing how much you hate early mornings, and long flights home.

“I have a bone to pick with that Hotchner guy, I think he’s out to get me.” You huff. “He ships us out when the sun comes up, he puts me with Morgan all day, and he never lets me hang around when you’re doing paperwork in the briefing room.”

Spencer, much more brave now, trails his lips down your jaw and neck.

“That’s because you’re distracting.” He states.

You gasp. “I am helpful!”

“Helpful when you have your hand between my legs under the table?”

You giggle. “I’m helpful in more ways than one, baby, and you are no better than me.”

With a slight disbelief of his eye, he pulls away from tracing your pulse with the tip of his tongue, and shakes his head at you.

“How am I no better?”

You slightly tug at the ends of his hair. “Spence, you almost got us caught when you shoved me into the conference room on your lunch break and Emily was looking all over for me.”

He smirks, feeling all too proud of himself for that bold move. “It was my lunch break…I was having lunch.”

Ever since Spencer learned how much he enjoys his face between your thighs, it’s like he’s a junky all over again and can only go so long without making you fall apart for him. You remember thinking that there was no possible way the two of you could get away with it as he pushed your skirt up and sat you on the edge of the table, kneeling before you. You also remember thinking this was one of the hottest things he has ever done.

In the beginning, you were worried that he thought you only wanted sex. The sex, it’s great, it’s …well, it’s wow. But being with Spencer means laughing more than you ever have, spending days off together, holding his hand in public and going to as many bookstores as he likes. It’s all so much more than you ever had before.

At work, it’s the same as it’s always been, you shamelessly flirt and Spencer, being the victim of your sultry ploys, keeps stumbling his words and hardly ever raises red flags.

Sure, the team noticed that he’s a little more out of his shell, has more confidence about him, but they just think he started believing all those compliments you tell him. In all actuality, he just feels proud that he has someone like you in his life, whose socks end up in his laundry and who leaves lipstick stains on the collars of his shirts.

Fingers trace up your spine, raising goosebumps on your skin as they aim for the clasp of your bra. He’s getting pretty good at undoing the hooks.

But just before he can try to beat his time, a knock comes from the door.

The two of you pause, your lips pull back, your fingers leave his hair.

“What do we do?” You whisper.

Panting slightly from the lack of oxygen he receives when your tongue is slotted to his, he just shrugs. “Maybe they’ll go away.”

Just like that, your hips continue their motion and he’s going to free your chest.

Another knock.

“Reid, it’s Morgan.” The voice comes.

Spencer lets out a rather irritated huff, his eyes shut as he swallows hard, willing the man to just go away.

“Reid! Open the door.”

Nope, he’s not leaving.

“Son of a bitch.” He grunts.

“Oh, watch that dirty mouth, Doctor.” You tease as he pulls you off his lap.

He stands, running through mathematical formulas to try and calm down in his boxers. He scoops up a sweatshirt that lays on the back of the desk chair and pulls it on. In a panic, you roll off the bed and hide behind it on the floor, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Reid-”

Spencer pulls the door open. ��What?” He snaps.

Derek is surprised by his bluntness, but he takes in his disheveled appearance and is more confused.

“What were you doing?” He asks.

“R-reading.”

Derek looks at his bare legs. “Without pants on?”

Go away, go away, go away.

Spencer breathes out. “I was about to take a shower. Now, what’s up?”

Morgan folds his arms over his chest. “Everybody is downstairs, don’t be a loner up here.”

Spencer shakes his head. “I’m pretty tired so uh, I’m gonna turn in.”

Morgan looks at him for a moment too long. “You sure you’re okay? You seem…flushed.”

“I’m fine, Morgan, really.” He reassures.

Laying face down on the carpet for a few minutes while the two men hash out whatever it is Morgan needed to, you come to the realization that you’re actually exhausted. By the time Spencer finally gets Derek to leave, you’re sitting yourself back up on the bed with a frown.

“What is it?” His brows furrow as he sees your expression.

Never have you ever had a partner so attentive, so loving in every touch they gave you. But Spencer runs his fingers through your hair as you tell him how you long for sleep, and he reassures you that it was okay you weren’t in the mood anymore.

He brought your bag from your room to his, though you truly just fell asleep in a t shirt and panties.

In the morning, you pretend you were in your room the entire night, and you meet the team in the lobby, fresh faced and ready to fly home.

“What’s your plans for this weekend?” Morgan asks after discussing with Emily what she’ll be doing.

You, who is currently taking up too much space on the couch, look over at the pair and shrug.

“I’ll have you know I have a very hot date with my bathtub when I get home and a very big plan to clean my apartment.”

That was all a lie.

You’d be over at Spencer’s this weekend, you’d be spending all your time with him, acting like a normal couple in public, having dinner and he’d get flustered when you’d kiss him in public.

But the team can’t know that.

Spencer comes back from the back of the jet, only to see his spot on the couch has been taken by your legs. He stares at you for a moment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to sit here?” You innocently question.

“Yeah, I’d prefer to.” He nods, watching you smirk.

“All you have to do is ask nicely.”

“Please?”

You sit upright, planting your feet on the ground. “Always so eager to beg.”

Emily laughs, Spencer goes red in the face.

To them, it’s exactly how it always has been between the two of you.

He sits beside you, not too close, but your fingers twitch to reach over and touch him. Your nails go to your mouth instead to keep them busy.

Without truly paying attention, Spencer reaches over and tugs your hand away from your mouth and instead hands you a sucker he pulled from his bag.

It’s such a domestic act that though there’s nothing too suggestive about it, Emily notices. She clocks the behavior as something a little odd. Sure, you and Reid have always been close but since when has he carried around things for you?

Truly, you should’ve known that Emily would be the first to suspect something, but you continued on blissfully, believing that the team was so caught up in everything else that they wouldn’t catch what was happening right under their noses.

“The station was able to get us last minute rooms but there’s only four available, some of us are going to have to double up.” Hotch says nearly a month later on a case in a small Texas town you were only supposed to be in for the day.

But when the case turned into something far more complicated than anticipated, the team opted to stay for a bit longer.

The team shares a few looks as Hotch holds the motel room keys in his hand, all knowing that he wasn’t about to bunk in with Rossi anytime soon.

“I’m not sleeping with Reid.” Morgan declares as he begins to feel like it’s going to be assumed. “Make the girls share a room.”

All three of you begin to protest, knowing you’re fine with sharing but not fine with Morgan making that decision for you.

He holds his hands up in surrender.

JJ, always such a leader, looks to you. “If you and Prentiss want to share, I’ll bunk with Reid.” She sighs.

Spencer starts feeling like he’s a child again, watching his parents talk about custody, knowing one parent truly doesn’t want him.

The suggestion, though innocent, has your nails pressing into your palms. It’s a terrible idea in your mind, because here is a chance to stay with your golden boy for the night and it’s getting taken away.

“I’ll stay with Spencer, I don’t mind. Is that okay with you, Spence?” You turn to look up at him, innocent smile, sultry eyes.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Fine- it’s fine with me…I’ll take the floor.” He stutters awkwardly, sealing the deal with a cricked smile that’s very Spencer Reid.

Hotch narrows his eye as he hands you a room key. “Keep the flirting to a minimum.”

“How can I when he just makes it so easy?” You joke, taking the key.

As you grab your bag, Morgan begins to uncontrollably laugh.

“Go easy on him.” He jokes. “He’s a romantic.”

“Morgan.” Reid sighs, following behind you.

“You have a fun sleepover! Hey, you still got that whistle? Yell fire if she gets to be too much!”

I glanced back at Morgan, shaking your head before looking to Spencer. “Come on, lover boy, I don’t bite.”

“Yes you do.” He mutters.

“Only sometimes.”

Hotch prays he’s not going to get an email from HR. He’s already hearing it from Strauss, a meeting needs to be set up for inappropriate conduct between coworkers, and everyone knows Garcia and Morgan aren’t the only ones to blame, not when you’re addressing Spencer as ‘handsome genius’ in work emails.

The door clicks shut and you turn the lock, letting out a sigh and taking in the modest room, everything decorated in a dated western fashion.

“Were you serious about taking the floor?” You ask, causing him to look back over to you.

“If you want me to, yes.”

Bless him and his gentleman qualities, it has you wanting to jump him in the most passionate way.

“Now, why would I want you to be down there when I’ll be up in the mattress all alone? Here I thought you had a high IQ.” You tease, opening your go bag. “You mind if I shower? You could join me if you want.”

The offer is tempting.

“I better stay here in case someone comes knocking, might be a little suspicious if we’re both dripping wet at the same time.” He says, feeling proud that he still can think logically, though it’s far too hard when you’re around.

A smirk pulls at your soft lips. “I thought I was the only one who knew anything about being dripping wet.”

Spencer becomes flush, his cheeks burning as he says your name, prompting you to stop your explicit behavior.

“Sorry, baby, it’s just so easy.” You come to kiss his jaw before finding your way to the bathroom.

The shower is warm and the low light in the bathroom is soothing, you rinse clean and shampoo your hair, making the steam smell like your scent. Spencer browses the minimal television selection, then fights his urge to unmake the bed because he knows you’ll want to adjust the blanket and sheets a certain way.

“The water pressure is surprisingly good.” You say after about fifteen minutes, coming out, releasing that waft of steam.

Toweling your hair, you come back to your bag to find your various travel lotions, though you don’t get very far because Spencer is looking at you like you just hung the moon.

“What?” You ask, slightly adjusting your robe with an unsure smile.

He smiles softly. “I just…it’s unfair how beautiful you are in every form.”

Your heart swoons like it always does when he’s around.

“You have no room to talk, mister.” You remind, abandoning the skin care and come to stand between his knees that he parts for you.

Your finger traces the line of his jaw as his hands gently place on the backs of your thighs.

“You’re so sexy with your hair pushed back like this. Did you start wearing it like this because you knew it would drive me crazy?” You ask coyly, half teasing, running your fingers through it.

“It’s getting long.” He says.

“Nonsense, I love it.”

“You love everything.”

“I love you.”

The two of you pause. Those are three words you haven’t exactly expressed often. It’s been said, in a ramble from Spencer where it just came out and you had beamed up at him like you’ve won a prize.

Now, you say it with certainty, and he wants to hear it again.

“I love you.” You say with more intensity, leaning down to where you have his face in your hands, holding him there as you kiss him.

“I love you too.” He mumbles against your lips.

You don’t pull away when he slowly reaches for the tie of the silky robe, you’d never reject him.

He’s already lost his shoes and socks, his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, but he loses more as you help him. Further up on the bed, you let the open robe fall off your shoulders, not feeling bashful as he studies you with his eyes.

Spencer could never look at you in anything other way than adoration.

“Hotch is dumb.” You decide in his lap, placing his hands on your hips.

“We’re taking advantage of the situation.” Spencer declares, face falling to your shoulder as you sink further down onto him.

“I feel no remorse.” You breathe.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had sex, the first time was a long time coming and it was perfect. So gentle and warm and everything the two of you craved. You laid in his sheets and traced the freckles on his skin and it’s a moment you think of often because you often don’t get them.

Now, you have a moment and are seizing it.

“You okay?” You ask with the drag of your hips.

“You’re heavenly.” Spencer proclaims, tasting the clean skin of your neck.

“Spence.” You gasp, getting the hang of a rhythm. “Fuck.” The word leaves your lips as soon as he thrusts up into you.

You and Spencer have always worked well together so this is no different.

It’s addictive, the feeling stirring in you, the shear pleasure washing over him. He knows a thing or two about addiction and he can confidently say that you make him feel far better than any needle in the vein did.

At some point, with your hands in his hair, mouth hot against his, and his grip moving you how he wants…

Your phone rings.

At first, you do your best to ignore it, but it continues in an annoying fashion.

“No.” You plead, trying to chase that oncoming feeling.

“Who is it?” Spencer breathes heavy as you reach for the device.

“Emily.”

His head falls in defeat, movements slowing, prompting you to answer.

You do your best to not sound aggravated as Emily asks if she can bring dinner by, but the idea of a burger does sound nice.

“Yeah, we could eat.” You state, free hand over Spencer’s mouth to keep him quiet as your slow movements continue.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” Emily states in a kind yet suspicious tone.

“Will do, thanks Em.”

You throw the phone away, overwhelmed and determined to reach the high that was slowly slipping away.

“I hate our team sometimes.” You determine, frustrated that you lost momentum.

Not so gently, Spencer adjusts you to be on the mattress, taking over when you threaten to call off the entire idea because there was a stumble in the step.

“They should just know not to call on the off chance two coworkers are breaking HR rules.” He jokes, entering you without hesitation, making you gasp out.

The roll of his hips is slowly bringing you back to the precipice at a dangerously fast rate, leaving your legs to shake a touch.

“Emily is going to be here soon.” You stress, digging your skull into the pillow.

“We’ll be done before then.” He assures, reaching his hand down to rub his thumb against your clit in a hot friction.

“Emily could stand here and watch for all I care.” You state, pleading for a release. “I just- I need it, baby, please.”

“I know, I know, angel, you’re going to get it.”

How could a man be so soft when he’s doing such dirty things to you? It’s a mystery you’ll never quite understand, but Spencer has always been a wonder, so this is to be expected. He’s coaxing you to the finish, letting you suck on his shoulder to keep your noises down.

And when it happens after the build up of waiting for weeks, it hits like a tidal wave, leaving you speechless, open mouth gasping silently for air. Spencer is shuddering and pressing his face into that space between your jaw and collar bone.

You half expect a phone call, some kind of urgent message that will ruin this moment but nothing comes. It’s just you and Spencer.

At some point after getting cleaned up, you lay side by side, limbs tangled. Your eyes threaten to shut at the way he traces the shape of your face.

“Sometimes I’m just waiting to wake from this dream.” He whispers, tucking hair behind your ear.

You hum. “It’s not a dream, that’s what makes this so great.”

He shifts slightly, tilting his head down to brush his nose to yours. “Sometimes I think it is, because in what reality am I really the person you choose?”

You don’t like that, it obvious on your face. “I’d choose you in every universe, even if you don’t choose me.” You say sternly, a hand pushing his hair back.

He likes when you’re genuine. Well, you’re always genuine, but you also always have a face on, one of coyness and humor. When you’re like this, emotionally bare, he likes you the most.

“I’d never not choose you.” He states before turning to kiss your wrist.

You want to comment about how romantic he is without trying, but Emily knocks like you knew she would.

The two of you spring up, thankful you’re already dressed. You take a calming breath as you head to the door, and Spencer quickly tries to straighten the wrinkled sheets.

Emily isn’t dumb, she knows something is different, but she truly doesn’t suspect anything yet, which is questionable because she has a perfect view of signs that indicate adult activities when she comes in to deliver the burgers.

She goes and tells JJ that the two of you act different, a little more guilty, but Emily doesn’t know for sure until a completely different scenario comes about.

Two weeks later, when you’re sent into a living nightmare. Hotch makes the call to send you into the Unsub’s house alone first, you do it without hesitation because that is just how you do your job when it comes to the life or death of three missing children.

“House is clear, I’m going down to the basement.” You say into the com on your vest, confirming your safety to the team.

But you speak too soon, the Unsub does something the profile was wrong about. Hotch sent you in there because he suspected the man to be submissive to confident women of higher standard.

Though you were cautious, you weren’t expecting the Unsub to attack you at first chance.

You do your best to fight back and get the kids free, but you’re completely blindsided. Who knows what would have happened if SWAT and the team didn’t storm in when they did.

When you sit in the back of the ambulance, in shock, a paramedic cleaning up the gash on your forehead, Spencer is there with concern and comfort.

“The kids?” You ask.

“They’re safe, they’re going to be okay.” He reassured, holding your hand between both of his.

“I didn’t…I should’ve-“

“Shh.” He frowns. “You did good, angel, everything’s alright. Do you feel okay?”

Your brows draw and you shake your head. “I don’t feel well. Do I look well?”

“You have a concussion, sweetheart.” He says, gently pushing your hair back behind your ear.

“Am I still gorgeous?” You ask in a dreamy voice.

“You’re always gorgeous.” He assures, cradling your cheek. “You’re just gorgeous with a head injury that you’re going to go to the hospital to get it looked at.”

Your eyes shut as you hum, the warmth of his palm runs through you. The two of you embrace gently, completely forgetting how casual you are supposed to be appearing.

The team sees it now, of course they do.

You’ll have to explain the secret you’ve been hiding from them later, but now you’re just listening to Spencer’s voice murmur to you, wrapped in his FBI jacket, fighting the urge to adjust his hair.

[hyliagirl42]

Not to get all preachy here but i think this could stem from the really harmful media analysis we're taught in school, which often has us answer questions like "if you were the protagonist in this situation, what would you do?"

And something i read in a post elsewhere really stood out to me, in response to that question - what does it matter what *I* would do? And what I would do is entirely dependent on whether I only have the lived experiences and memories of the protagonist, or if I only havr my own, as the reader.

Because if i only had the protagonist's experiences and memories, I wouldn't know I'm a character in a book (or horror movie). I wouldn't know what genre I'm in. I wouldn't know that this camping trip in the woods with my friends is going to end with all of us dying. It's just a camping trip. And we're teenagers having fun, being silly, and how were we supposed to know the evil tome had a real genuine curse on it? If this is the case, asking what I would do doesnt matter, because my lived experiences speak to what choices I'm going to make, and as such none of the choices I make will be different.

But if I have only my own memories as the reader to make my decision with, that's also a useless question to ask. I know things as the reader that the character never could. Like I mentioned before, I know that this is the horror genre and people are going to die. So obviously I can sit back and think of all the perfect ways to win, the perfect flawless ways of surviving. But that wouldn't be very satisfying, narratively, would it? There's no plot without struggle and hardship. There's nothing satisfying about winning too easily. That's not the story the author wants to tell, especially in horror stories.

But all we're ever taught in school is "what did the character do wrong? How would you do it better?" Instead of the actually meaningful questions such as "what message was the author trying to convey? How can this message apply to your life? Is this message even aimed at you in the first place, or is it aimed at someone else? Did the author successfully convey their intended message?" Questions like that.

And that's doing us a disservice in all media, all across the board. For example, if a character does something you would never do, because it's a Bad Thing To Do, the character is problematic! Because I, an upstanding citizen, would never do that! Forget the fact that the character is still going through character development at this point. Forget that the character's background led them to make this decision, and they thought it was the right one at the time, when it wasn't. Forget that the author may be setting up events in the future or trying to teach a lesson or trying to show that someone who does such things is still a human being and can still be a sympathetic character even if they mess up...

Anyway, I'll get off my soap box now, this is just what this post made me think of. To go back to the original post, if you dont want to see a story about horror protagonists falling victim to circumstances out of their control, and would rather see a cute romance, go find yourself a cute romance to read instead. If you want to see protagonists making all the right decisions and overcoming all odds, go find a story about that instead. This is a horror movie. And in horror movies, people make stupid mistakes, because they don't know theyre in a horror movie. Go find something else to watch or read

people are so mean about horror movie victims like. sorry but if i had gone to a cabin in the woods with my friends as a teenager you couldn't have stopped us from reading aloud from the evil tome. how were they supposed to know the ancient curse was real they're like 17

[anundyingfidelity]

CLAWS & SHIELD — Wolverine, Soldier Boy

Summary: Logan, Ben, and you sharing a motel room. That's it, that's the fic.

Pairing: Logan x fem reader x Ben.

Warnings: pwp smut, threesome, unprotected everything, oral (male receiving), hair pulling, cum play, cream pie, facial, mentions of marking, dirty talking, pet names, sub!reader, female pronouns.

Notes: I know no one asked but here you have because I can't stop thinking about them sharing like the good assholes they are. Soldier Boy and Wolverine are their own warnings in general so😫

GEN MASTERLIST!

“I- I’ve never done this before,” you gasp, hands and knees on the ground as Soldier Boy sits at the edge of the mattress with your head between his thighs. The tip of his cock is red and he’s aching to be sucked, and you want to. Fuck, how much you want to, but you feel kinda anxious as the mutant pulls your hips towards his own.

His cock is also hard, veiny and throbbing already to feel your walls wrap around him. You whine when he teases your entrance with his dick, covering himself with your slick and you moan. Logan takes a messy grip of your hair and rubs his cock once, twice, before his tip buries inside your needy cunt.

“Oh, but how you’re enjoying it,” Logan remarks with a dark chuckle, followed by the supe, who wipes your mouth with his thumb.

And you suck on his digit, swollen lips wrapped around him as if your life depends on it.

“Dirty little slut, can’t wait to be filled up, can you?” Soldier Boy teases as Logan pounds mercilessly into your aching pussy. You whine at the feel of the mutant gripping on your hips now, sure it’d leave more marks into your skin by tomorrow.

Your knees already hurt, your palms are bruising on the carpet of the dirty motel room. It was true, you never had been in this situation before. But being shared by these two piles of muscles and strength, manhandling you around and ordering you to take what they could give to you was more than you ever dreamt of.

Soldier Boy pulls his thumb away from your mouth, and takes your jaw with his fingers.

“Open,” he orders and you obey, sticking your tongue out, fucked out already as Logan continues his rut from behind you.

He spits on your mouth and you flinch a little, but he doesn’t hold back, instead guides his cock between your lips and you happily take him, humming and gagging at how far he had reached inside in just a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it,” Soldier Boy moans, watching his cock disappear into your mouth.

“She’s fucking close,” Logan warns, the rhythm of his thrusts increasing by the moment, and he grabs your ass cheeks, spreading them to see right in the spot where you two connect as he keeps fucking you to bliss. He hisses at the view of his cock sliding out, covered in the wetness of your abused cunt. “God, that’s a perfect pussy right there, look at you…”

Logan hits your sweet spot and you moan and cry around Ben’s cock, the soldier never giving you the easy time. He fucks your throat hard, as if he was on a competition with the other man fucking your cunt right now, and you do your best to suck on his cock, tongue tracing his veins and your throat creating a wet cave for him to use.

With a hand, Soldier Boy grabs onto your hair and guides your pace to a more brutal one, feeling himself close.

“Keep sucking me off, sweetcheeks,” he groans, thrusting up his hips until your nose meets his pelvis.

You blurt incoherences, pussy clenching around Logan’s cock, and god, does it feel so damn good to you, being filled by both men at the same time, used for their pleasure and however they want… If this was heaven you wouldn’t want to leave the room ever.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Soldier Boy grunts and quickly pulls out of your mouth. He is jerking himself and holding your pretty, fucked out face with the other hand.

“Open for me, yeah, that’s it,” he praises and he finally cums, white ropes painting your cheeks as you hold your tongue out, his hot cum all over your nose, lips and cheeks.

“Keep her there, I’m gonna fill her up real good,” Logan darkly whispers and is no longer for him to get there, when he empties inside your needy cunt balls deep with a beautiful moan of his. Though, he already has come, the stamina and strength is enough to keep fucking his seed into you and a chain of moans and pleas leave your lips and sore throat.

“Fuck, yes! Right there, that’s the spot, please keep fucking me-”

His orgasm triggers your own climax and you finally come, crying so loud and milking his cock as he thrusts to meet your hips.

Soldier Boy wipes the cum off your face before offering his fingers coated and forcing them into your mouth. You lick them obediently, longing eyes on him.

“Fuck, best pussy I ever had,” Logan praises and he finally stops, lazy and sloppy hips against your ass.

“And wait when you have her ass,” Soldier Boy smirks, you moan unwittingly at the thought. “Hole is even better.”

Logan groans and he feels himself getting hard again, pulling out of your cunt, seed leaking out and rolling down your thighs. He plays with your sensitive folds and clit with calloused fingers.

“Yeah, well, I’m ready for round two,” Logan says, leaning towards you, his strong chest pressing against your back. “Bub here as well. But are you ready, baby?” he whispers over your ear.

You shiver at the thought, and you know they know you want it bad. It’s become a need at this point. Their high senses tells you they fucking know, and they enjoy having this control over you.

“Whatever you want,” you respond, holding the soldier’s lustful stare as you try to catch your breath.

Soldier Boy smirks and Logan chuckles on your back. He roams his hand over your breasts, kissing your shoulder, his beard leaving a sweet burn on you. Their dicks are already hard, and oh, you know you’re so fucked in the best way you could dream of.

[strnilolover]

player!chris notices ditsy!reader being hit on uninvitedly …

Thursdays were a particularly slow day for you — your lectures were spaced out and you had lots of free time between them. Normally you’d opt for going back to your dorm, maybe take a nap or read a book to your favorite series you were reading — or work on some of the class work for some of your courses with Chris.

But, today you had chosen differently. It was bright and sunny outside, the kind of warmth that was just right to sit in and enjoy without getting too overheated.

Your body weaved through people, holding your books close to your chest as you made your way to the fountain that sat in the middle of the campus grounds. Accidentally bumping into a few people when you got too lost in thought about different subjects — muttering a quick apology before continuing your route.

As you continued to walk across campus, you pulled out your phone from your bag to text Chris. You were supposed to meet up with him soon, but he hadn’t told you where he was yet, so you decided to let him know your plans.

You: Heading to the fountain. Meet me there when you’re free!

You tucked your phone back into your bag swiftly as you finally made it to the fountain. It’s gentle bubbling and colorful flowers surrounding it — it was the perfect place to lose yourself in a book. It wasn’t long before you found a seat on the stone ledge, setting your books down and opening the dog-eared paperback you always carried.

You hadn’t been reading long when a shadow had suddenly fell across your page. Looking up, you thought it was Chris, having finally made his way to where you were — but instead you saw a group of guys standing around you, their expressions cocky and intrusive.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” one of them said, grinning. Your brows furrowed, an uneasy feeling fluttering in your chest. “Hi,” you said softly, your grip tightening on your book.

“You waitin’ for someone?” another asked, stepping closer. “’Cause it looks like you’ve got some time to kill.” his voice had this undertone to it that you couldn’t place…they didn’t seem like they were wanting to be friendly.

“I’m just reading,” you replied, your voice small as you shrugged your shoulders slightly. “Reading? What’s so interesting in there?” the first guy said, leaning down to get a better look. “Bet it’s some cheesy romance novel, huh?” he teased mockingly.

You shook your head, trying to focus back on your book. “It’s not cheesy.” you muttered, trying to take your focus off of them the best you could.

“Oh, come on,” he said, laughing. “You don’t need to sit here reading by yourself. We could keep you company.” he cooed, a cocky grin being placed on his lips. “That’s okay,” you murmured, hoping they’d take the hint. But instead, one of them plopped down beside you, way too close for comfort.

“You don’t have to be shy,” he said, flashing a grin. “We’re just trying to be friendly.” — yeah a little too friendly. “Yeah,” another chimed in, crouching in front of you. “You’re cute. What’s your name?”

You hesitated, “Um…” shrinking back slightly. “I’m fine, really. I just want to read.” The guy beside you chuckled, draping an arm across the back of the ledge. “Aw, don’t be like that. You’re too pretty to sit here all by yourself. We’re just trying to get to know you.”

Before you could respond, the one in front of you reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “She’s shy,” he said, smirking. “That’s adorable.”

You leaned back away from his touch, clutching your book to your chest. “Please don’t—” but before your sentence could fully leave your lips, a sharp voice cut through the tension between you and the guys.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The voice made you jump, and all four of the guys froze, their heads snapping toward the source. Chris was standing a few feet away, his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. His blue eyes flicked to you for a moment, softening briefly before narrowing on the group of guys.

“Oh, hey, Chris,” one of them said, trying to play it cool. “Didn’t know this was your girl.”

Chris stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Doesn’t matter if she’s mine or not. What the fuck gives you the right to corner her like that?” he bit out, his teeth gritting together so hard you thought he might break them.

“Relax, man,” the guy sitting beside you said, holding up his hands. “We were just talking.”

Chris’ brow raised. “Talking?” his voice was icy, his glare cutting. “This is what you call talking? Surrounding her, getting in her face, touching her without permission? You think that’s okay?” he spat out, his body coming closer until he was standing directly in front of them.

“Come on, Chris,” one of them said, rolling his eyes. “You’re one to talk. We’ve all seen you with girls. You’re with a different one every week.” he tried to argue.

Chris’s jaw tightened more, his fists clenching at his sides. “Yeah, I’ve been with girls. But you know what I don’t do? Corner them, harass them, or make them feel uncomfortable. Don’t even try to put me in the same category as you.” he said coldly, like it was the most dumbest statement someone had tried to ever make toward him.

The guys exchanged uneasy glances, their bravado faltering. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?” Chris continued, his voice rising. “She was sitting here reading, minding her own business. You don’t get to pull this crap and call it flirting.” and as he said that, the guy sitting next to you stood up — the others backing up slightly.

“Chill, man. It’s not that serious,” one of them mumbled, but he wouldn’t meet Chris’s eyes. “It’s serious to me,” Chris snapped. “Now get the fuck outta here before I make you.”

The group hesitated, but one look at Chris’s furious expression was enough to send them retreating with muttered apologies. Chris waited until they were out of sight before turning to you, his expression softening instantly. “You okay angel?”

You nodded shakily, clutching your book to your chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.” you muttered. Chris crouched down in front of you, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of distress. “They didn’t touch you, did they?” he whispered, bringing a hand up to gently touch your cheek,

You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m okay. You got here just in time.” And Chris let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Good. Because if they had…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind. What were they even thinking?” he muttered — more to himself than you.

“I don’t know,” you said softly. “They just wouldn’t leave me alone.” you said, feeling the unease in your stomach pooling more at the thought, but lessening slightly. Chris frowned, standing up and offering you his hand. “Come on. Let me walk you somewhere. I don’t trust those idiots not to come back.”

And you hesitated before slowly placing your hand in his, letting him pull you to your feet. “Thanks, Chris,” you whispered, looking up at him, his hands reaching for your bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

His smirk returned, though it was tinged with protectiveness. “Always angel. Nobody’s allowed to do that and just get away with it. They’re lucky i didn’t break their fucking jaws. fuckin’ assholes.” he muttered as he placed his arm around your shoulder, leading you toward the building with the food court.

As the two of you walked away together, you couldn’t help but feel your heart race — partly from the lingering nerves, but mostly from the way Chris looked at you — the way he protected you.

What was this feeling?

© strnilolover

[inthemiddleofmae]

morning embrace - paul mescal x reader

summary - paul comes home after a run to see you making breakfast

word count: ~670

a/n: someone might have watched gladiator ii and fell in love all over again with paul then wrote this instead of writing their uni essay...hmm i wonder who that is!! here's something short n sweet i wrote to make up for the serious lack of paul/lucius fics :(

the london sky was rosy and cloudy; it was 7am on a thursday and the sun was still in the process of rising. you had the perfect view of the city out of your kitchen window, and every time you cooked in here, you reconfirmed in your head that you and paul made the right decision buying the flat almost 6 months ago. though the two of you hadn't lived there for long, it was already home.

the radio was on, as usual, and was playing quietly in the background. the sizzling of eggs and mushrooms on the frying pan quickly overpowered the vocals of a song you couldn't quite recognise.

the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the last remnants of the lavender incense that you burned before going to bed last night. this was the first thing paul smelt when he came through the door, with a slight slam and vibration alerting you to turn around. it was then that the smell of breakfast hit him. beads of sweat trickled down his thick, slightly quivered brows - evidence of his long run through the park.

"morning, love," you greeted him, your voice barely coming through the bustle of the kitchen.

paul, still catching his breath, offered a contented smile. his eyes, however, showcased a hunger not satiated by the run alone. you smiled, looking into his eyes before turning back to the stove to gently stir the almost ready mushrooms.

paul approached you and you could feel his eyes on the back of your head. the smile on your face, still present, grew even wider as you felt his larger, sweaty presence lurking over you, taking a deep inhale of the aroma coming from the pan.

"smells amazing," paul murmured, his nose now pressing gently into the curls of your hair. his voice felt like a gentle caress against what was now the morning quiet, with all other sounds falling into the background, leaving only the intimate space you both shared.

"i aim to please - especially hungry runners." you replied, a teasing glint in your eyes.

though his chest was already lightly touching your back, a magnetic pull seemingly drew the two of you even closer together. paul's arms encircled your waist, and you quickly turned the stove off, for you had expected to be distracted now that you were in the arms of your lover.

“thank you.” paul whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to the nape of your neck, making you all flustered and warm inside.

as the aroma of the now finished breakfast continued to fill the air, you turned around in paul's arms to face him. your eyes met first in a silent exchange, then you tilted you head up so your lips could meet - a fusion of passion, the sweet taste of morning, and the slightly salty taste of his sweat.

your soft fingers traced gentle patterns on paul's ever so damp chest as the two of you embraced each other, savoring the rare, quiet morning together. with your busy 9-to-5 job and paul’s demanding acting schedule, moments like this didn’t come often. but with paul on a short break and you having taken a few days off, you were determined to make the most of it. the kiss deepened as the pair of you smiled into it and slowly swayed to the melody in the background.

“you stink, paul.” you whisper after he hesitantly breaks the kiss, both of you bursting into a soft laughter.

“fuck off,” he says playfully, his arms still around your waist. “how about i eat the beautiful breakfast you made me first, and then we can both get in the shower?”

“well i’m not gonna say no to that.” you say as you raise one of your hands and begin admiring his bearded chin.

with one last peck, paul releases his hands from your waist and reaches above you to grab two plates. you can't help but feel content.

[miscellaneousramblings]

Maybe???

Ig that separating the two seasons feels like a cope but I have trouble reconciling them in my head rn.

Season 1 was fun to watch because its animation is literally mind-boggling and revolutionary, but it also had some genuinely touching, dare I say even thought-provoking moments. Not everything was perfect and fandom actually had fun poking at the holes because the show didn't have the time to say everything, but at the same time all the clues and more importantly the character beats were present. So even if we had to infer some stuff it still rang true I think, because it was actually supported by the text.

In season 2 the text is weak because there is no time at all. We go from personal stakes to cosmic stakes in less than 10 episodes. Even the most skilled writers can't pull this off. So with a few exceptions we are left with scenes that don't feel earned, dialogue that feels marvel-ised and a shitton of stuff that gets straight-up skipped over (as in "oh yes, this happened but we don't have the time to give you dialogue. have one visual cue instead"). It really shows with the "music videos" (too many of them) and the music itself too, which was way better in s1. So fandom will still probably have fun filling the holes but at this point each of us can make up our own version of the show, the relationships, the characters' motivations, etc. because the canon "skeleton" has become paperthin. Also personally I didn't have a lot of fun watching this season, especially Act III.

Those are my two cents anyway.

stating to think there’s an inverse correlation between how good media is and how easily fandomizable it is 😁

[writerpeach]

I've lost count how many times I've been down bad for Annyeongz's legs

Both of them sitting on your lap, crossing their legs to firmly tighten their thighs together, the perfect shape to caress in the palm of your hands.

They are getting comfy to the point of just nonchalantly kicking off their heels, hearing them go 'kick clack' on the hard floor. Their well manicured feet slightly dangling in the air, toes barely touching the ground, forming the perfect arc with their soles.

If they 'force' you to choose who has currently the best legs, would you follow your gut and tell them the truth?

If this was the previous Peach then Yujin would probably win hands down. Now though... I'm not so sure... 🤔🧐

dammit frisky

---

You've never been so happy to have such a dilemma and these options. You have the best of both worlds; the smoothness of Wonyoung's long creamy legs or the deliciousness of Yujin's more powerful, thicker thighs—equally irresistible and silky soft when wrapped around your head, around your waist, never letting you go.

"Daddy likes my legs better, right?" Wonyoung questions, pulling her short dress even higher up, leaving you unable to help yourself, the urge to reach out, running a hand all along her inner thigh.

Yujin meanwhile does the same and scoots in closer, opening the buttons of your shirt and tracing her delicate finger up your bare chest until it reaches under your chin, lifting it upward, forcing eye contact. "Don't get ahead of yourself, princess. Daddy knows mine are the best. He loves having them on his strong shoulders while he drives his big, fat cock into me all night long. Isn't that right?"

Wonyoung, despite the cute little huff, isn't fazed as Yujin responds, narrowing her eyes at the youngest. You can sense the competitiveness building inside both of them, these two sets of manicured fingers roaming all over your chest. You swallow hard, already too distracted as the pair press lips against your neck and tease, just wanting to steal attention their way.

"Daddy loves when my legs are in the air, when I'm all folded up for him, letting him plunge into every deepest fucking part of me, nothing to stop him," Wonyoung adds with a cheeky, innocent look that stirs heat deep in the pit of your stomach. "I know daddy loves breeding me and pumping me full of his hot cum more than he loves anything else."

Yujin breaks off from her deep kiss that's already left a mark on your neck, looking Wonyoung in the eye with an intensity, a heat you've seldom seen on the girl, shaking her head. "Maybe, princess—but daddy loves fucking his thick load deep into my tight little cunt when I wrap my legs so tight around him that he can't possibly pull out. There's nothing he loves more than completely emptying his balls inside me while I'm all hot and sweaty."

"Slut."

"And proud of it. Jealous that daddy loves to creampie me so much? Sorry, it's not my fault that you can't handle such a big cock. I'm sure someday you'll get there," Yujin returns, never breaking eye contact and maintaining a constant smirk of triumph.

Wonyoung scoffs. She definitely won't admit defeat. And Yujin simply grins at the unsuccessful attempts to conceal her clear anger, the frustration. "Daddy, choose now. Me or Yujinnie. Come on, prove her wrong."

Just the thought of choosing either of them is torturous and absolutely impossible.

So you refuse to.

Yujin can't hide the amusement when you pick neither of them, instead silencing Wonyoung with a kiss, quieting whatever protests are rising in her throat. This is the sign for the three of you to form some semblance of a triple kiss, before switching between Wonyoung and Yujin, until you eventually lean back and watch the two of them make out all sloppily, swapping saliva and realizing how easy it is to shut Wonyoung up.

Then with this fleeting glance shared between the three of you, it's Yujin who speaks first, sliding the straps of Wonyoung's dress off and groping her chest, sucking, slobbering on those pretty nipples.

"Now that this is settled, help me get these clothes off this fucking brat. We've got a nice, big comfortable couch to ruin the princess on. Don't we, daddy?"

[esotericalchemist]

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 - 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

Masterlist this series - TikTok (Matrix of Destiny) - Masterlist - YouTube (subliminals)

Mars in Aries is raw, fearless, and unrelenting—a pure expression of action and desire. It’s the spark that ignites bold pursuits and thrives on challenges, propelling you to charge toward your goals without hesitation. When paired with Venus, the planet of attraction and values, the dynamic takes on unique qualities, shaping how you combine passion with purpose.This post explores the fiery drive of Aries Mars alongside possible Venus placements, uncovering how this combination influences the way you pursue what you want and attract what you need. Whether it’s in relationships, creativity, or ambition, Aries Mars ensures that action is always front and center—pushing you to embody courage, confidence, and determination in every pursuit.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬

With Venus and Mars in Aries, you have a natural blueprint for achievement that blends bold attraction with fearless action. Aries is a cardinal fire sign, ruled by Mars, and this gives you the ability to magnetize opportunities (Venus) and seize them with unrelenting drive (Mars). To manifest your desires, you need to lean into your innate ability to take the lead and act decisively. Venus in Aries teaches you to attract by radiating authenticity, confidence, and enthusiasm. When you passionately believe in what you’re pursuing, the universe responds by presenting the people and opportunities you need. Your magnetism lies in your courage—by daring to show up unapologetically, you naturally draw in what aligns with your goals.

Mars in Aries is the engine that powers this blueprint, giving you the drive to act the moment you identify your desires. The cardinal modality ensures that you’re not someone who waits for the perfect moment—you create momentum by diving in. The key to success with this combination is movement, as Aries thrives on action. If you have a vision, break it into immediate, tangible steps and get started without overthinking. This direct approach is your strength. You don’t need to have all the details figured out initially; your success comes from trusting that you’ll adapt and refine your path as you move forward.

To manifest effectively, focus on aligning your fiery passion with intentional action. Aries energy can sometimes be impulsive, so it’s essential to channel your enthusiasm into meaningful pursuits that truly excite you. Avoid scattering your energy on fleeting desires; instead, identify goals that spark your inner fire and commit to them. Since Aries is all about pioneering, don’t be afraid to carve your own path. Challenges will arise, but with Mars in Aries’ resilience, you’re wired to push through obstacles with determination and resourcefulness.

Your Venus and Mars in Aries give you the perfect combination to manifest success: the power to attract what you want and the energy to go after it fearlessly. By trusting your instincts, acting boldly, and learning to sustain focus over the long haul, you can achieve anything you set your mind to. Take initiative, embrace the fire within you, and watch your desires turn into reality through your sheer will and determination.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬

With Mars in Aries and Venus in Taurus, you hold a dynamic and grounded blueprint for achievement, blending fiery passion with steady determination. Mars in Aries is bold, action-oriented, and thrives on immediate movement. It fuels you with the courage to take risks and dive headfirst into pursuing your goals. Venus in Taurus, on the other hand, is earthy and methodical, reminding you that true success comes from creating stability and cultivating what you desire over time. Together, this combination gives you the ability to start with fiery enthusiasm and follow through with patience and persistence—a powerful mix for manifesting your ambitions.

Venus in Taurus shows that to attract opportunities, you need to create value and beauty in what you pursue. Taurus, as a fixed earth sign, is ruled by Venus, which makes it a magnet for resources, relationships, and experiences that bring security and pleasure. You attract by embodying a sense of calm confidence and by showing others your commitment to quality and consistency. In your goals, this means seeking outcomes that are both fulfilling and sustainable. Surround yourself with supportive environments, beautiful spaces, and reliable networks, as these will help you stay grounded while building toward your dreams.

Mars in Aries adds the spark to this steady energy, pushing you to act quickly and take bold steps toward your desires. Aries, a cardinal fire sign, doesn’t wait—it initiates. This means that while Venus in Taurus may prefer to take things slowly, Mars in Aries ensures that you don’t get stuck in complacency. The key to manifesting your desires is using your Mars to propel you into action and your Venus to sustain your momentum. Start strong and stay committed by grounding your fiery enthusiasm in practical, tangible steps that bring long-term rewards.

The challenge with this combination lies in balancing these two energies. Mars in Aries can make you impulsive, eager to see instant results, while Venus in Taurus prefers to move at its own pace, savoring the journey. To align these energies, focus on combining Aries’ courage with Taurus’ patience. Begin by taking bold, decisive action, but follow through with consistency and care. Your greatest strength is your ability to blend Mars’ fiery ambition with Venus’ steady cultivation, allowing you to manifest goals that are not only achieved quickly but also built to last. Trust in your instincts, act decisively, and commit to seeing your vision grow over time.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬

With Mars in Aries and Venus in Gemini, you have a lively and versatile blueprint for achievement, driven by bold action and fueled by curiosity and adaptability. Mars in Aries is a cardinal fire sign, giving you the courage, energy, and drive to pursue your desires with directness and speed. Venus in Gemini, an air sign, thrives on mental stimulation, variety, and connection, showing that you attract opportunities through your wit, charm, and ability to adapt to changing circumstances. Together, these placements create an energetic and fast-moving approach to life, where quick thinking and bold action are your tools for success.

Venus in Gemini helps you attract opportunities by being open-minded, engaging, and intellectually curious. Your ability to connect with people, exchange ideas, and communicate your vision makes you a natural networker. You draw resources and support by staying flexible and exploring multiple avenues for growth. To manifest your desires, lean into your knack for learning and adaptability—success for you often comes from trying new things, staying versatile, and being willing to pivot when necessary. Gemini Venus reminds you that the journey toward your goals should be playful, stimulating, and filled with opportunities for growth and learning.

Mars in Aries propels you to act on your ideas and desires without hesitation. This placement gives you the drive to pursue what excites you, especially when you’re inspired or challenged. Aries' cardinal energy is direct and fearless, making you someone who thrives on starting new ventures and tackling goals head-on. Combined with Venus in Gemini’s love for variety, you excel in environments that require innovation, quick decision-making, and a willingness to take risks. You’re particularly adept at initiating projects or seizing opportunities in dynamic and fast-paced fields, where your energy and creativity can shine.

The challenge with this combination lies in maintaining focus. Mars in Aries may push you to start strong, but Venus in Gemini’s love for change and exploration can make it hard to see things through. To manifest your desires, you need to balance Aries’ action-oriented drive with a commitment to finishing what you start. Channel your energy into pursuits that allow for variety and challenge but also have clear, achievable goals. By combining Mars’ boldness with Venus’ charm and versatility, you can take decisive steps toward your ambitions while staying open to new opportunities and creative solutions along the way. Stay curious, act decisively, and embrace the momentum of your dual-driven energy.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬

With Mars in Aries and Venus in Cancer, your blueprint for achievement combines bold, fearless action with a deep emotional drive to nurture and protect what you care about. Mars in Aries is pure fire and cardinal energy—dynamic, assertive, and focused on initiating action. It gives you the courage to dive headfirst into your goals, thriving on challenges and excitement. Venus in Cancer, a cardinal water sign, is intuitive, emotional, and nurturing. It attracts opportunities by creating meaningful connections and cultivating environments of comfort and care. Together, this combination allows you to pursue your desires with passion and purpose, driven by both instinct and heart.

Your Venus in Cancer helps you attract the right people and resources by tapping into emotional depth and authenticity. You’re drawn to goals that resonate with your inner values, such as creating security, supporting loved ones, or building something with emotional significance. You attract opportunities by showing care, empathy, and dedication to what you believe in. Success comes when your ambitions align with something deeply meaningful—whether it’s a cause, a relationship, or a creative pursuit, your heart must be fully invested in the outcome.

At the same time, Mars in Aries ensures that you don’t hesitate to act once you identify your desires. This placement gives you the drive and courage to take risks, assert yourself, and move forward with confidence. Aries energy is direct and action-oriented, pushing you to pursue your goals without overthinking or letting fear hold you back. While Venus in Cancer might want to proceed cautiously, Mars in Aries balances this by encouraging you to take bold steps toward what you want, even if it feels emotionally vulnerable.

The challenge of this combination lies in balancing Aries’ impulsive energy with Cancer’s need for emotional security. Mars in Aries thrives on independence and quick action, while Venus in Cancer seeks comfort, connection, and reassurance. To manifest your desires, you’ll need to align these energies by channeling Aries’ boldness into pursuits that Cancer finds meaningful and fulfilling. Take decisive action toward your goals, but ensure you’re nurturing yourself and others along the way. By combining your fearless pursuit of success with your ability to create supportive foundations, you can achieve lasting results that not only excite you but also feel deeply satisfying. Trust your instincts, lead with your heart, and use your passion to build a life that resonates with both your fire and your soul.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬

With Mars in Aries and Venus in Leo, your blueprint for achievement is fueled by pure, radiant fire energy. Both Aries and Leo are fire signs, bold, passionate, and action-oriented. Mars in Aries gives you raw, cardinal fire energy, propelling you to act decisively and without hesitation toward your desires. Venus in Leo, as a fixed fire sign, is all about confidence, creativity, and shining brightly in everything you do. Together, this combination creates a dynamic, charismatic, and unstoppable force for manifesting your goals. You not only know how to take action, but you also attract admiration and opportunities with your natural magnetism and flair.

Your Venus in Leo helps you attract what you desire by embodying self-confidence, warmth, and creativity. People are drawn to your boldness, passion, and ability to light up any room with your enthusiasm. Venus in Leo thrives on recognition and appreciation, which means you’re at your best when pursuing goals that allow you to express your individuality and stand out. Whether it’s in relationships, creative projects, or career pursuits, you magnetize success by showing the world your passion and unique talents. You should focus on attracting opportunities that allow you to lead, inspire, and shine.

At the same time, Mars in Aries gives you the courage and energy to act swiftly on your goals. You don’t wait for permission or second-guess yourself—you dive headfirst into action, driven by a pure desire to achieve and conquer. This cardinal fire energy means you’re a natural initiator, unafraid to take risks and tackle challenges. Your Aries Mars ensures that you’re not just chasing dreams for the sake of it; you’re doing so with fierce determination and unrelenting focus. This placement gives you a remarkable ability to overcome obstacles because you thrive in the heat of competition and thrive on momentum.

The balance of these fiery energies is what makes you so powerful. While Mars in Aries ensures you’re always moving forward, Venus in Leo reminds you to infuse your pursuits with passion, heart, and creativity. To manifest your desires, combine your fearless ability to take action with a commitment to expressing your unique brilliance. Focus on goals that align with your need for excitement (Aries) and your desire for recognition (Leo). Remember, though, that fire can burn out quickly, so learning to channel your energy sustainably will ensure your success is not only bold but lasting. Lead with courage, pursue with flair, and trust that your fire will light the way to greatness.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬

With Mars in Aries and Venus in Virgo, your blueprint for achievement is a unique blend of fiery ambition and grounded precision. Mars in Aries, a cardinal fire sign, fuels you with boldness, energy, and the instinct to act immediately on your desires. Venus in Virgo, an earth sign, operates more methodically, valuing practicality, refinement, and meaningful effort. Together, these placements give you the ability to take swift, decisive action while ensuring that your efforts are purposeful and detail-oriented. This combination creates a powerful dynamic of courage tempered by critical thinking, allowing you to manifest your goals with both passion and strategy.

Your Venus in Virgo helps you attract opportunities by being reliable, thoughtful, and attentive to the needs of others. You magnetize success not through flashy displays but by showing competence, humility, and an ability to create order out of chaos. Venus in Virgo is all about aligning with what is useful and meaningful, so your goals often center around creating value and improving systems. In relationships, career, or creative pursuits, you thrive when you focus on goals that involve service, precision, and a desire to make something better than it was.

At the same time, Mars in Aries brings the fire to get things moving. Aries energy is direct, fearless, and thrives on taking initiative, meaning you won’t hesitate to jump into action once you’ve identified your desires. This cardinal fire placement pushes you to act boldly and with urgency, which contrasts with Venus in Virgo’s more cautious and detail-oriented approach. This dynamic can be your greatest strength, as it allows you to take decisive action (Mars) while refining your approach and correcting course as needed (Venus). The key is learning when to trust your fiery instincts and when to pause and analyze the situation.

To manifest your desires, combine Aries' courage with Virgo’s precision. Start boldly with Mars in Aries driving you forward, but let Venus in Virgo guide you to refine your process along the way. Focus on goals that excite you but also allow for steady improvement over time, as Virgo energy thrives on seeing tangible progress. The challenge with this combination lies in balancing Aries’ impulsiveness with Virgo’s tendency to overthink or criticize. When aligned, you have the ability to take risks confidently while ensuring that your actions are grounded and effective. By blending fire’s passion with earth’s practicality, you can achieve success that is both bold and enduring. Trust your instincts, act with purpose, and let your natural drive for excellence lead the way.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬

With Mars in Aries and Venus in Libra, your blueprint for achievement is built on the dynamic interplay of bold individual action and the desire for harmony, connection, and balance. Mars in Aries, a cardinal fire sign, thrives on instinct, courage, and immediate action, propelling you to dive headfirst into your goals. Venus in Libra, a cardinal air sign, focuses on relationships, diplomacy, and creating beauty, showing that you attract success through collaboration, charm, and a knack for understanding others. Together, these placements create a push-and-pull dynamic, where you’re driven by personal ambition but thrive when your efforts are in harmony with the needs of others.

Your Venus in Libra helps you attract opportunities by radiating grace, charm, and fairness. You excel at forming relationships that bring balance and mutual benefit, making you a natural at drawing people into your vision. Success for you often hinges on creating partnerships and aligning with goals that involve beauty, justice, or collaborative efforts. Venus in Libra values harmony, so you’re most fulfilled when your ambitions also uplift others, whether through art, communication, or shared goals. Your ability to appeal to others’ perspectives makes you a magnet for support and resources.

Mars in Aries, on the other hand, gives you the fiery determination to take charge and act decisively. This placement ensures that you don’t hesitate to pursue your goals once your vision is clear. Aries energy is independent and thrives on momentum, pushing you to make bold moves and take risks that others might shy away from. However, this Mars placement is highly self-reliant and direct, contrasting with Venus in Libra’s relational and diplomatic approach. This tension can create a dynamic where you must balance your desire to act quickly and assertively with your need to maintain relationships and fairness in your pursuits.

To manifest your desires, focus on integrating the strengths of both placements. Mars in Aries gives you the courage to initiate and lead, while Venus in Libra ensures that your efforts are supported by the people around you. The key is finding balance: pursue your goals boldly, but remain open to collaboration and compromise. This combination excels in leadership roles where both independence and teamwork are valued. Avoid leaning too heavily on one energy—acting impulsively (Mars) without considering others, or over-accommodating (Venus) and stalling your progress. By blending Aries’ fearless action with Libra’s charm and relational intelligence, you can achieve success that is both dynamic and harmonious. Trust in your ability to lead while keeping the bigger picture of connection and collaboration in mind.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬

With Mars in Aries and Venus in Scorpio, your path to achievement is fueled by fearless action and intense emotional focus. Mars in Aries gives you a bold, fiery drive to pursue your goals head-on, thriving on action, competition, and challenges. This cardinal fire energy ensures that you don’t hesitate to act on your desires—you’re quick to take initiative, trusting your instincts to guide you. Venus in Scorpio, on the other hand, adds depth and emotional intensity, showing that what you attract and pursue must feel meaningful, transformative, and deeply resonant. Together, this combination gives you the ability to act decisively while grounding your ambitions in emotional power.

Your Venus in Scorpio helps you attract opportunities by exuding a magnetic, mysterious energy that draws others and resources to you. Scorpio, as a fixed water sign, seeks depth and authenticity, so superficial goals or connections won’t satisfy you. Success comes when you channel your energy into pursuits that align with your core values—whether it’s building deep relationships, uncovering hidden truths, or creating something lasting and powerful. You naturally excel in areas that require emotional intelligence, resilience, and a willingness to embrace transformation. Venus in Scorpio ensures that you’re not just chasing fleeting desires; you want your efforts to leave a lasting impact.

Mars in Aries brings a fearless, action-oriented edge to this emotional intensity. Aries thrives on forward momentum, giving you the courage to dive into new challenges without overthinking. While Venus in Scorpio focuses on depth and strategy, Mars in Aries pushes you to act boldly, ensuring you don’t get stuck in planning or emotional hesitation. This combination makes you incredibly effective at tackling ambitious goals—you start strong, act with confidence, and sustain your energy by anchoring your drive in Scorpio’s deep emotional reserves. Together, they create a potent balance between quick action and focused intention.

To manifest your desires, align Aries’ fiery courage with Scorpio’s emotional purpose. Mars pushes you to take risks and seize opportunities, while Venus ensures that your efforts are meaningful and aligned with your soul’s deeper calling. Your biggest challenge is balancing Aries’ impulsive energy with Scorpio’s tendency to become fixated or overly intense. Success comes when you combine bold action with emotional wisdom, ensuring that your ambitions are both fearless and deeply fulfilling. Trust your instincts, pursue what ignites your passion, and let your emotional depth guide you to lasting and transformative success.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬

With Mars in Aries and Venus in Sagittarius, your blueprint for achievement is infused with fiery passion, unshakable optimism, and a thirst for adventure. Both placements are in fire signs, emphasizing action, enthusiasm, and a love of challenge. Mars in Aries, as a cardinal fire sign, gives you the courage and drive to initiate bold actions and tackle your goals head-on. Venus in Sagittarius, a mutable fire sign, brings a sense of expansiveness and curiosity, showing that you attract success by aligning with opportunities that inspire freedom, growth, and exploration. Together, this combination creates a dynamic and adventurous approach to manifesting your desires.

Your Venus in Sagittarius draws opportunities to you by radiating excitement, open-mindedness, and an eagerness to explore the unknown. You attract success when you embrace goals that allow for freedom and self-expansion—travel, education, philosophy, or anything that pushes boundaries resonates deeply with your Venus energy. Sagittarius loves experiences that offer meaning and adventure, so you naturally align with pursuits that inspire both you and others. You magnetize people and opportunities by exuding optimism and a sense of purpose, thriving in environments where exploration and big-picture thinking are valued.

Mars in Aries fuels this vision with decisive action and relentless energy. Aries’ cardinal fire energy is about starting strong and pursuing your goals fearlessly. You act on instinct, and you’re not one to wait for perfect circumstances—if you’re excited about something, you dive in headfirst. This placement gives you the confidence to take risks, embrace challenges, and overcome obstacles quickly. Combined with Venus in Sagittarius’ expansive outlook, you excel at turning bold ideas into immediate action, making this a potent combination for achieving ambitious, boundary-breaking goals.

To manifest your desires, align Aries’ courage and decisiveness with Sagittarius’ vision and optimism. Mars helps you take quick, bold steps, while Venus ensures that your pursuits feel aligned with a sense of higher purpose. Your biggest challenge lies in maintaining focus, as both Aries and Sagittarius are prone to impatience and a tendency to jump to the next exciting opportunity before finishing the current one. Success comes when you commit to goals that ignite your passion and offer room for growth while staying grounded enough to see them through. By combining fearless action with a love of exploration, you can achieve a life that is not only successful but also deeply meaningful and inspiring.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬

With Mars in Aries and Venus in Capricorn, your blueprint for achievement combines bold, fearless action with disciplined ambition. Mars in Aries is a cardinal fire sign, giving you the courage, energy, and drive to pursue your desires without hesitation. Venus in Capricorn, a cardinal earth sign, adds a grounding influence, showing that what you attract and pursue is rooted in structure, stability, and long-term goals. Together, these placements create a dynamic balance: while Mars propels you to take immediate, daring steps, Venus ensures your efforts are purposeful and aligned with a clear plan for enduring success.

Your Venus in Capricorn attracts opportunities through your reliability, focus, and sense of responsibility. Capricorn values results and respects effort, so you naturally draw people and resources to you by demonstrating that you’re serious about your ambitions. In relationships and professional pursuits alike, your charm lies in your steadiness and ability to work toward meaningful, lasting achievements. You thrive when you set your sights on goals that require discipline and commitment, particularly those that lead to tangible rewards or increased status and security. Success comes when your ambitions are tied to something practical and deeply rooted in reality.

Mars in Aries brings fire and urgency to this steady Venus energy. Aries thrives on taking initiative and acting quickly, giving you the courage to leap into action and tackle challenges head-on. While Venus in Capricorn prefers careful planning, Mars in Aries ensures you don’t get stuck in analysis—you move boldly toward your desires, trusting your instincts to guide you. This combination makes you highly effective at starting projects and turning them into something substantial, as Capricorn’s discipline complements Aries’ raw drive. You’re not afraid to take risks, but you also have the patience to ensure those risks are calculated and worthwhile.

To manifest your desires, balance Aries’ impulsive energy with Capricorn’s methodical approach. Mars gives you the courage to initiate, while Venus keeps your eyes on the bigger picture, helping you build something meaningful and enduring. Your challenge lies in managing the tension between Aries’ need for quick results and Capricorn’s preference for slow, steady progress. Success comes when you align your bold actions with a clear, structured plan, allowing you to channel your fiery energy into goals that have long-term value. By combining fearless ambition with practical determination, you can achieve great things that stand the test of time.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐀𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬

With Mars in Aries and Venus in Aquarius, your blueprint for achievement blends bold, trailblazing action with innovative, forward-thinking attraction. Mars in Aries is a cardinal fire sign, energizing you with fearless initiative and the drive to pursue your goals head-on. Venus in Aquarius, a fixed air sign, emphasizes creativity, independence, and a love for the unconventional, showing that you attract success by embracing originality and forming unique connections. Together, this combination makes you a dynamic individual who thrives on taking bold actions while aligning with visions that are progressive, inspiring, and outside the box.

Your Venus in Aquarius attracts opportunities through your individuality and open-mindedness. People and resources are drawn to your visionary ideas, magnetic charm, and ability to see the bigger picture. Venus here thrives on freedom and innovation, so you excel in pursuits that allow you to break the mold and challenge traditional norms. You’re naturally drawn to goals that benefit the collective or involve technology, humanitarian efforts, or creative collaboration. Success for you comes when you embrace your unique approach to life and focus on goals that allow you to express your authenticity and originality.

Mars in Aries adds fiery action and raw energy to this visionary Venus. Aries thrives on immediacy and thrives on initiating bold, daring moves. You’re not afraid to take risks, and you have the courage to act decisively the moment inspiration strikes. While Venus in Aquarius gravitates toward abstract ideas and unconventional methods, Mars in Aries ensures that you don’t just dream—you take tangible steps to make those dreams a reality. This combination makes you a powerhouse of innovation and execution, blending visionary ideas with the ability to act fearlessly in pursuit of your goals.

To manifest your desires, align Aries’ fearless energy with Aquarius’ forward-thinking vision. Mars pushes you to act quickly and decisively, while Venus ensures that your efforts align with a purpose larger than yourself. The challenge of this combination lies in balancing Aries’ need for independence and immediate results with Aquarius’ preference for long-term impact and collective progress. Success comes when you take bold actions toward goals that not only excite you but also push boundaries and create meaningful change. By combining your passion for action with your love for innovation, you can achieve results that are both groundbreaking and deeply inspiring.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 + 𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬

With Mars in Aries and Venus in Pisces, your blueprint for achievement combines fiery courage with dreamy, imaginative allure. Mars in Aries, a cardinal fire sign, gives you the boldness to act decisively and pursue your desires with unrelenting passion. Venus in Pisces, a mutable water sign, brings a softer, more intuitive energy, helping you attract opportunities through compassion, creativity, and emotional connection. Together, this combination blends action and imagination, giving you the ability to take fearless steps toward goals that resonate deeply with your heart and spirit.

Your Venus in Pisces attracts opportunities by tapping into your sensitivity, charm, and ability to connect on a soulful level. Venus in Pisces thrives on dreams, ideals, and a sense of boundlessness, meaning your goals are often guided by a desire to create beauty, healing, or inspiration in the world. You naturally draw people and resources by exuding empathy and an almost magnetic allure that others find enchanting. Success for you is tied to pursuits that align with your creativity and emotional depth, such as artistic endeavors, spiritual growth, or helping others in meaningful ways.

Mars in Aries, however, ensures that you don’t just dream—you act. Aries thrives on immediacy and decisiveness, giving you the courage to take bold action toward your desires without hesitation. This placement makes you highly driven and instinctive, unafraid to face challenges or take risks to get what you want. While Venus in Pisces may sometimes get lost in idealism or sentiment, Mars in Aries keeps you grounded by pushing you to move forward and turn your visions into tangible results. This combination makes you a powerful blend of dreamer and doer, someone who can imagine big and then bring those dreams to life through sheer determination.

To manifest your desires, focus on harmonizing Mars’ impulsive energy with Venus’ intuitive flow. Mars in Aries gives you the fire to start strong and take risks, while Venus in Pisces ensures that your goals are emotionally meaningful and aligned with your higher ideals. The challenge lies in balancing Aries’ directness with Pisces’ fluidity—avoiding impulsivity while staying true to your dreams. Success comes when you channel your passion into pursuits that inspire you and others, combining bold action with emotional depth. By uniting courage with compassion, you can achieve goals that are not only impactful but also deeply fulfilling on a soul level.

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[greengoblinswifey]

Old Flames, New Fire— Jaehyun x Fem!Reader

summary— you and jaehyun are torn apart by his commitment issues but when he sends you a ticket the ab nct concert, you reconnect unexpectedly with old sparks reigniting during an intimate and apologetic backstage meeting after a show the show

warnings— exes to lovers, oral(m&f receiving), praise kink, choking, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff.

a/n— my first nct fanfic requested by my hg, hope you all enjoy <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

You hadn’t seen Jaehyun in over six months—not since the breakup. The relationship had been a whirlwind of emotions, full of late-night phone calls, spontaneous road trips, and quiet nights where his voice lulled you to sleep. But as intoxicating as it was, it had unraveled just as quickly.

“I can’t do this right now,” he had said that night, his voice low but firm, his eyes avoiding yours. “It’s not you. It’s just, I’m not ready for something this serious.”

You remembered standing there, stunned, trying to process his words. “You’re not ready?”you had repeated, bitterness seeping into your tone. "Then why start this at all? Why make me fall for you if you were going to leave?”

He had no answer. His silence cut deeper than anything he could have said. Despite his claims, you knew there was more to it. Jaehyun was afraid—of what it meant to love and to be loved fully. His commitment issues stemmed from the intense pressure of his career, the relentless schedules, and his fear of letting someone in only to disappoint them.

Now, months later, you found yourself at his concert. The ticket had come unexpectedly, delivered with a simple note, Come. Please.

The arena was packed, the energy palpable as NCT took the stage. Jaehyun was magnetic, his every movement commanding attention. But your focus was on him alone. His eyes scanned the crowd as if searching for something—or someone. When his gaze landed on you, it lingered, a flicker of recognition and something unspoken passing between you.

After the show, you were escorted backstage. Jaehyun was waiting, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, his hair damp with sweat. The sight of him sent something through you, but you steadied yourself.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, his voice softer than you remembered.

“I almost didn’t,” you admitted, crossing your arms defensively. “Why now, Jaehyun? What do you want?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know I messed up,” he said, his tone sincere. “I pushed you away because I was scared. Scared of how much I wanted this—wanted you.”

Your heart twisted at his words. “You don’t get to do this,” you said, your voice firm. “You don’t get to walk back in and expect me to just forgive you.”

“I’m not asking for forgiveness,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “I’m asking for a chance to prove that I can do better, that I want to do better for you.”

The sincerity in his eyes was disarming. But the pain of the past still lingered. “And what happens when it gets too hard again? When the schedules and the pressure become too much? Do you leave me again?”

He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “No. I’ve learned, I’m not perfect, but I’m not running this time.”

You studied him, searching for cracks in his resolve. But all you saw was the man you had fallen for—the man who, despite everything, still made your heart race.

The tension was thick as he led you to his dressing room, his hand brushing against yours. Once inside, the air seemed to shift. “I meant every word I said out there,” he murmured, his voice low. “But if you don’t want this, tell me now.”

You didn’t reply with words. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. Months of longing and unresolved emotions poured out, the connection between you just the same.

“Still can’t speak when I’m around,” he teased, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

“Shut up,” you murmured, pulling him closer.

Your lips crashed against each other as his hands roamed your body, making sure he felt every inch of you to make up for the past few months. When you finally pulled away, he had that stupid smirk on his face.

Back at his hotel room, he handed you a glass of water, his usual post-show routine on full display. His eyes kept flicking back to you, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Finally, he sighed and sat down next to you on the couch. “I owe you more than an apology,” he began, his tone earnest. “I was so scared back then, scared of failing, scared of letting you down. And instead of facing it, I pushed you away.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “It wasn’t just fear, Jaehyun. You didn’t trust me to handle it with you.”

“I know,” he admitted, running a hand through his dark hair. “I was selfish. And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I want to show you that I’ve changed—if you’ll let me.”

His vulnerability caught you off guard, but the sincerity in his voice was undeniable.

“Show me,” you said simply, a small smile on your lips.

You stood, the black silk of your dress catching the soft hotel lighting as it slid off your shoulders. His gaze darkened as the fabric pooled at your feet, revealing your black thong.

“Who’s this for?” he asked

“Whoever the lucky guy backstage was going to be,” you replied with a smirk, watching as his eyes widened slightly before narrowing in playful challenge.

“You’re something else,” he muttered, stepping closer and brushing his fingers along your jawline.

He eased you onto the bed, his hands grazing your sides as he peeled the thong away. When he paused, his eyes flickering with surprise, you felt a spark of pride.

“You’re this wet already?” he murmured

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you teased, though your breath hitched as he lowered his head to your leaking pussy.

His movements were deliberate, every flick of his tongue, every kiss on your clit reigniting memories of the passion you’d shared before. Your hands tangled in his hair as his lips and tongue worked their magic, drawing soft moans and gasps from you.

“Baby,” you whispered, your voice breathy and unsteady.

“Cum on my tongue,” he urged, his voice low and full of need. You obeyed, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you.

When he finally looked up, his lips glistening, he smirked at your flushed expression. “Still the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he said, his voice tinged with mischief.

But as he sat back, you felt a sudden urge to even the score.

“Your turn,” you said, your voice firm as you reached for his shirt.

“You don’t have to,” he protested, though his words lacked conviction.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you replied, your hands already working the buttons. “You know how much I love your dick in my mouth.”

You kissed along his chest, savoring the way his breath hitched as your lips traveled lower. When you finally fell to your knees, his body tensed.

Your movements were purposeful, every touch designed to elicit a response. You took him deep into your mouth, working your tongue from the base back up to the pink, leaking tip. You then moved to stroking the girthy base, your tongue now focused on swirling around the tip, the saltiness savory on your tastebuds. His hands found their way into your hair, gripping lightly as he moaned and whimpered under your attention.

“God,” he groaned, his voice shaky. “I missed that mouth.”

You smirked, speeding up your efforts, determined to push him over the edge. You bobbed your head faster, gagging noises filling the hotel room as his cock got sloppier and twitched in your mouth. Not be able to hold on any longer, he finally released, his body trembling and you swallowed his cum, looking up at him with a satisfied grin.

He pulled you up and kissed you deeply, his hands cradling your face. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his voice full of reverence.

The moment Jaehyun pressed you against the bed, the weight of him grounding you, every lingering doubt you had about the two of you dissolved. His lips moved with an urgency that felt like he’d been starving for you, his hands wandering over your naked body as if memorizing every curve all over again.

He broke the kiss first, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ragged. “I’ve missed this. Missed you.”

Your reply got caught in your throat when you felt him hard against your thigh. A faint blush rose to his cheeks when he noticed your smirk.

“That looks painful," you teased, your voice laced with amusement.

He groaned softly, running a hand down your side. “Yeah, well, maybe you could help me out?” His lips brushing over your jaw. “Let me make you feel good too.”

You bit your bottom lip, hesitating for a split second before nodding. You weren’t in the mood to play coy, you’d been craving this as much as he had.

You felt his tip brush against your wet folds, and the sensation sent a jolt through you. He teased you at first, sliding over your wet pussy, creating that aching friction. The squelching noise filled the room, making your cheeks burn.

“You hear how wet you are?” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. “That’s all for me.”

You opened your mouth for a snarky reply, but the words died the moment his thick cock pushed into you, a gasp escaping your lips instead.

“Fuck, still just as tight as I remember,” he growled, his voice strained as he eased himself deeper.

He started slow, letting you adjust, but every thrust felt hard and deliberate, as though he wanted you to feel every inch of him. One hand gripped your hip, and the other slipped around your throat, his fingers applying just enough pressure to make your heart race.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispered against your lips, his movements steady and controlled, your body jolting beneath him.

“Who’s making you feel this good?” he asked, his tone dark but affectionate.

“You,” you whimpered, arching against him.

“That’s right,” he said, his voice softening. “And it’s only ever going to be me. You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

His words made your orgasm rip through you, the coil in your body finally snapping. You cried out, clinging to him as your release washed over you, leaving you trembling beneath him.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, brushing his lips against your temple.

Before you could catch your breath, he flipped you over, pulling you into his lap. “Remember how much I love watching you ride me?" he asked, his hands firm on your hips.

You smirked, resting your palms on his chest. “I could never forget.”

Slowly, you began to move on his cock, savoring the way he stretched you. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your rhythm, while his lips found the sensitive spot on your neck that always made you shiver.

“You’re doing so good,” he groaned, his voice full of pride. “I missed this—missed you.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as you bounced on his thick cock faster, your body responding to every praise and touch. He moaned your name, his grip tightening when you reached you finally shuddered again, trembling in his arms. The feeling left you limp.

Jaehyun wasn’t far behind. Flipping you onto your back, he picked up his pace, his hands framing your face as he whispered your name like a prayer. He thrusted up into you, pounding like his life depended on it so he could get the release he wanted to. As he did, you locked your legs around him, a droopy smirk on your lips.

“You need to let go baby, I’m close,” he warned, his voice desperate.

You shook your head, pulling him closer. “No. Cum inside me. Now.”

His eyes searched yours for a moment before his cum spurted deep inside your pussy, his body shuddering against yours as he spilled into you.

The two of you lay tangled together afterward, his hand stroking your hair as his lips found your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth and then your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “For everything. I’ll make it up to you—I swear.”

“You’d better,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. Just promise me you won’t either.”

He kissed you deeply, pulling you closer. "I promise."