#like!! give me attention before i do thing several people will regret

[wittness]

goddddd i need attention.

[atlabeth]

family line

pt 2

pairing: spencer reid x gideon!reader

a/n: pardon the end where i just go into endless conversation for no reason but i cannot control myself. anyways thank you sosososo much for all the love on the last part and gideon!reader as a whole it makes me so happy!! enjoy some dad-daughter-spence car convos(arguing) and some elle time

wc: 3.8k

warning(s): the usual! r and gideon argue, gideon is not a good dad(but theres some reconciliation), angst, hurt/comfort, but some fluff between r and gideon & spence. more of a set-up chapter

The drive over to the safe house is a long one, and unfortunately, not a quiet one. 

Spencer takes the back seat, leaving shotgun for you with your dad. He spends the entirety of the drive briefing you on what living in a safe house will entail, all the things you can and can’t do. 

You can’t use your phone because it could be tracked. You can’t leave the place without Spencer because you are, in fact, being stalked. You’re not to reveal anything about your location to anyone—you’re basically shut off from the world until the unsub is behind bars. 

And once he’s done briefing you, he basically starts interrogating you. 

“Have you been contacted like this before in any way?” 

You huff a laugh. “What, with creepy pictures of myself? No.” 

“Anything unsettling,” he clarifies. “A text message, a call, an email— anything that rubbed you the wrong way that you might’ve just passed off as a joke or spam.” 

“No,” you repeat. 

“You’re sure?” 

“How many times do I have to say no?” You pull your phone out of your pocket and stare at your dad. “Go through it if you want. You won’t find anything.” 

He pauses, then he nods. “Reid.” 

You shake your head with a slight laugh, then turn it over as Spencer extends a hand. He flips it open and starts to go through it, and you just cross your arms and stare out the windshield. 

“We should really hand this over to Garcia,” he says. “She’ll be able to do a lot more than I can. I don’t really—”

“Like technology, I know,” your dad finished. “We will. Just trying to get all the leads we can upfront.” 

You sigh, but you keep quiet. You guess you can’t really consider it an invasion of privacy when there’s a stalker after you. 

“We typically talk to stalking victims for a while to figure out their lifestyle and possible suspects, as well as the type of stalker we’re dealing with,” Spencer says. “We don’t exactly have the time for that here.” 

“This unsub has already been watching you for a month, maybe more,” your dad says. “He’s made his first move by reaching out to me—that means he wants us to know about him, wants you to know about him.” He glances over at you. “He wants to scare you. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction.” 

“You’re jetting me off to a safehouse before you’ve even gotten the chance to look into any leads,” you say. “It looks like we’re pretty scared, Dad.” 

“It’s preparation,” he says. “The unsub has made his first move—I’m not going to wait around for him to make another and compromise your safety.” 

“This could also be a lot more dangerous than we think,” Spencer says. You still hear him clicking through your messages, and you’re beginning to regret your decision to turn it over to him. “Our unsub could be someone after Gideon using you as collateral.” 

Your heart stops for a split second and your attention snaps to your father. “What?”

“…It is a likely option,” he says. “Very few people know you as my daughter. Someone who wants to hurt me could try to use you to do it.”

“So I was right,” you say. “This is only happening because I’m your daughter.”

“Do you want me to say yes?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes— I want you to admit that I’ve missed out on all the positives of you being my dad and gotten stuck with all the negatives!”

“This is not the time,” he says. 

“How is it not the time?” you ask with a laugh. “You’ve said it yourself several times— my life is in danger. There’s someone out there that might kill me to get back at you. What is a better time than this to talk about how shitty of a dad you’ve been?”

“A better time would be when we aren’t this high strung,” he says evenly. “Neither of us are thinking as properly as we should be. We don’t want to say anything we’ll regret.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll regret any of this,” you say. “After all, I could be dead soon, right? I should get all those regrets out of the way.”

“Please stop arguing,” Spencer interrupts hastily. “This— this is very uncomfortable.”

You scoff. The flames burn just as bright, but for some reason, you decide to hold them back a bit. 

“I’m sure it’s real hard for you, boy genius.”

The silence lingers. You can tell he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Your dad, to his credit, doesn’t stoke the fire.

It looks like you’re all capable of restraint today. 

“I— I went through all her messages,” Spencer continues. It irks you that he talks like you’re not here. “There’s nothing suspicious there, at least.”

“Good,” your dad says. “I’ll hand it over to Garcia after I drop you both off.”

“We’re not gonna have a car?” you ask.

“You’ll have this one,” he says. “That’s why Agent Greenaway is following us.”

“Elle’s coming?” Spencer asks, and you see him perk up. You belatedly wonder what that deal is. 

“Just so she can drive me back to the office,” your dad says. “She offered.”

“What’s everyone else doing?” 

“Garcia is digging through some of your personal records for the team,” he says, glancing at you. “JJ is in contact with the local police stations so they’re ready once we have a profile. Morgan and Hotch should be looking through every case I’ve closed to get a running list of suspects.”

“Great,” you say as you lean back in your seat. “Nothing like getting my whole life aired out and put under a microscope.”

“It already is,” Spencer says. “You’ve got a stalker.”

“Thanks, Spencer,” you mutter. “I forgot.” 

-

The rest of the drive goes by with ease—at least, relative to how difficult you’ve made everything else. 

You’re already sick of Spencer Reid by the time you get out of the car. You don’t know how you’re going to survive such close quarters under these kinds of circumstances. 

Another car parks next to you as the three of you get out, and your eyes are drawn to the woman that steps out. 

“Easy drive?” your dad asks. 

“I was right behind you,” Agent Greenaway says. “You drive like an old man.” 

Your dad just barely smiles. “Stay with her, Elle. Reid and I are going to check the perimeter.” 

“You can’t be serious,” you cut in. 

“I already told you I’m not taking chances with this,” he says, and he takes his gun out. “This won’t take long.” 

Spencer takes his out as well—he carries it with both hands, like it’s actually weighing him down, and it’s a bit ridiculous—and they split to cover both sides of the house and the surrounding area. You sigh and shake your head as you cross your arms. 

“He’s certainly spirited,” Agent Greenaway says. 

You huff a laugh. “That’s one way to put it.” 

“I’m Elle, by the way,” she says. “I know we haven’t been formally introduced.” 

You nod your acknowledgment and say your name. “Nice to meet you.” 

She turns to fully face you. “Do you mind if I say a few things?” 

“If it’s about my dad—”

“It’s not,” she interrupts with a wry smile, “I promise.” 

You shrug. “Then sure.” 

“First, I just want to ask if you’re doing alright,” she says. “You’ve gotten a lot dropped on you all at once.”

“I’m as good as I can be,” you say. 

Elle nods, and her eyes soften. “I’m not gonna tell you to take it easy on Gideon. He’s an incredible agent, but that makes it hard to be a good dad.”

You don’t say anything, and she continues. 

“My dad was on the force too. I resented him for a lot of my childhood because he was gone so often, but… then he was killed in the line of duty.”

You frown. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Elle nods in thanks. “I’m not trying to get sympathy. I’m just saying I know what it’s like.”

You shift your balance and sigh, glancing away momentarily. “Everyone here sees him as a hero, and— and he is. He started this whole thing and you all save lives every day, but it feels like he’s missed my entire life because of it.” You huff a bitter laugh. “I think you all know him better than I do.”

“I think you’re probably right,” she admits. “You deserve to be angry. And honestly, I think you deserve to hate him some for it.” 

You huff a slight laugh. “You’re the one person who hasn’t tried to make me feel bad for it.”

She shrugs. “You’re in an awful situation and it might be because of him. You don’t have to have endless grace.”

“Any chance I can get you to stay in here with me instead of Spencer?” you ask.

She smiles. “I don’t think Gideon wants to stick the two of us in a house together. But I am gonna make sure we catch this guy.”

“These kinds of assholes go after vulnerable women because it gives them the attention they crave,” she continues. “They worm themselves into their lives and disrupt it all and it makes them feel powerful—you have to play to their whims.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of experience with this,” you murmur.

“I have a lot of experience putting away sick men,” Elle says. 

“Do you have any advice, then?” you ask weakly. 

“I’ve only been around you for a few hours, but I already know you’re better and stronger than whatever bastard is after you,” she says. “He wants to control your life. Don’t let him.” 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “I’m… really glad you’re on my side.”

She smiles again. “Just doing my job.”

Your eyes latch onto your dad as he and Spencer come back around the front, and they both tuck their guns back into their holsters. 

“It’s all clear,” your dad says. 

“And I’m not dead,” you say. “Looks like we’re all doing good.”

He chooses to ignore you, instead looking at Elle. “Did you go over anything with her?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “Just gave some advice.”

“Great,” Spencer says. “Just what I need.”

“Oh, get over yourself, Reid,” Elle says. “You’ll be fine.” 

You don’t miss the look he gives her, and your dad clears his throat. “Can you take her inside and check everything? Reid and I need to talk.” 

He frowns. “We do?” 

“Sure,” she nods. 

You stare at your dad this time, and he doesn’t entertain your annoyance with some of his own. “We’ll be in soon.” 

“Sure,” you repeat. 

You follow Elle in—you don’t feel like getting a lecture on safety just yet—and when you pass a glance over your shoulder, you meet Spencer’s eyes. He was watching you. 

His eyes dart away just as quickly, and you huff the slightest laugh. You don’t know if he’s scared of you or just tired of you already, but whichever one, you don’t really care. If you have to be stuck in this house with him, he has to be stuck in there with you too.

Elle shows you around the place, and it’s nothing special—a one story house with two bedrooms and a noticeable lack of windows, furnished plainly with a couch and a few chairs, a small kitchen table, a television. You’re honestly surprised at how nice it all is. 

But as she takes you on the impromptu tour, you can’t stop thinking about her words. You can’t stop thinking about all of it, honestly. 

A month ago, you were driving home in silence after your dad forgot about the plans you made. A week ago, you were out for drinks with friends. 

Today, you’re hunkering down in a safe house because there’s a stalker after you, and you have to do it with your dad’s stand-in kid. 

That’s what gets you, you think. That you know more about Spencer Reid than anyone at his job knows about you—that your dad ignores you in favor of his work, and instead of trying to fit you into his life, he finds an FBI replacement.

Your jaw clenches. It takes a few seconds for you to realize you’ve completely tuned out Elle, only really coming out of it when she says your name.

“Sorry,” you say. “I was distracted.” 

“I don’t blame you,” she says wryly. 

You’re about to respond when Spencer walks in with your dad. His face is slightly flushed and, as opposed to all the other times, he won’t make eye contact with you. You can only imagine what your dad decided to talk to him about. 

“You showed her around?” your dad asks. 

Elle nods. “The basics. She and Reid can figure out the rest.” 

“Thank you,” he says. He looks at Spencer, who has his hands stuffed in his pockets and is very intently focused on the wall behind you. “Help Elle get the rest of the things out of her car.”

He frowns. “Elle doesn’t need my help.”

“Come on, Reid,” she says as she starts to walk. 

He blinks and nods. “Oh. Uh— yeah.” 

You feel his eyes on you as he goes, but you don’t meet them. You just stare at your father.

“Is it my turn for a lecture?”

His eyes soften as he says your name. “This isn’t how I want things to be between us.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “it takes a decade or two of neglect to get here.”

“You’re right,” he says. “You wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me. But I’m going to get you out of it.”

“I hope so,” you say. “Because I don’t really know how Doctor Reid is going to help.”

“Don’t take it out on Reid,” your dad says. “Hate me all you want, but leave him out of it.”

“You’re the one that pulled him into it,” you retort. “He’s more your kid than I am.”

“And I regret it,” he says. Your eyes widen a bit, and it actually gets you to shut up. “I regret that it took something like this for me to be a part of your life again. But I don’t want our last interaction before you’re sequestered for the indefinite future to be a fight.”

“That’s all I’m good at when it comes to you,” you mumble. The wind has been taken out of your sails considerably. 

“And I want to change that,” he says. “But first, we have to get through this. And we’re going to get through it together, sweetheart.” 

The term of affection feels strange coming from him. Ever since your teenage years, he’s felt less like your dad and more like some estranged cousin. You hate it. You hate how unfamiliar everything feels with him. Jason Gideon has been a profiler longer than he’s been a dad and it shows in your every interaction with him. 

But still, your heart aches. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“You promise?” you ask. You feel like a kid again. 

“I promise,” he says. 

Then your dad pulls you into a hug, and for a moment, you freeze. You can’t remember the last time he hugged you. 

Despite the anger inside of you, the bitterness built in your bones, you can’t help it—you hug him back. You practically melt into his arms as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stop the sudden threat of tears. 

Because deep down beneath it all, you’re scared. You’re fucking terrified, actually, and right now you’re just a girl who wants comfort from her dad. 

“I love you,” he says. 

“…I love you too,” you mumble.

Neither of you pull away for a good thirty seconds. When you do, you turn around to wipe your eyes, not wanting him to see. You hear the door open and start, but it’s just Spencer and Elle with some bags and boxes. 

“Elle’s got some groceries,” your dad says, clearing his throat. “We’ll deliver more if necessary, but you’ve got the basics for a couple weeks, at least.” 

“And a whole lot of books and movies,” Spencer says, hefting the box in his hands. “Did you know that there have been approximately 122 million unique titles published since the invention of Gutenberg’s printing press in 1440?” 

“That’s less specific than usual,” Elle says. “You sure you’re feeling okay?” 

He frowns. “I couldn’t find statistics on the exact number.” 

“Why were you even looking at those statistics?” 

“I get bored sometimes.” 

Elle just laughs as they continue into the living room. You feel your dad’s eyes on you, and you sigh. 

“I’ll take it easy on him,” you say. “Mostly. Maybe.” 

And he actually smiles. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you say offhandedly, but you find the slightest smile creeping on your lips as well. You kind of hate it. 

Everything else goes by relatively quickly now that you’re not arguing every single thing—you have to fight your instincts not to, but you manage—and eventually, after another lingering hug and some promises to be safe (and one from Spencer to your dad to keep you safe)—you’re alone in the house with him. 

“So,” you say as you settle on the couch, “this is what the indefinite future is going to be like.” 

“If it makes you feel better, last time we dealt with a stalker we caught them in a few days,” Spencer says. “She watched her for a good while, though.” 

“It doesn’t make me feel better,” you say. “Thanks.” 

“...Sorry.” 

You shrug your indifference and Spencer walks past you, focusing in on some of the paintings hanging on the wall. You’re sure he knows the artist, title, and meaning behind every single one, so you speak up before he can start.  

“What did you and Elle talk about?” 

“How this place doesn’t have a pool,” he says.  

You frown. “What?” 

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “What’d you and Gideon talk about?”

“We fought then made up,” you say. “It was… weird.” 

Spencer looks at you. “How?” 

You shrug again as you cross your arms. “You’ve seen how we are. We don’t exactly get along.” 

“Has he really been that bad of a dad?”

“It’s none of your business,” you say. “But… yes. He’s barely been a dad at all.” 

Spencer shakes his head. “I don’t get that. He’s so different in the field.” 

“That’s why he’s barely been a dad—because he’s so busy here.” You tilt your head. “Don’t you have some facts or whatever on the percentage of fathers that are workaholics?” 

“Well, 89% of dads work full time,” Spencer says. “And fathers typically work around 47 hours a week. But I don’t have anything on workaholics specifically.” 

“Great.” You stand up and walk over to the box of DVDs Spencer set down on the table, and you start rifling through them. “So, what’d my dad tell you about me?” 

Spencer blinks. “What do you mean?” 

“When I came in here with Elle and he kept you out there,” you say. “Did he give you the run-down? Warn you on how difficult I am to be around? Tell you that I hate you?” 

His Adam’s apple bobs. “Uh— no. He just… talked to me. Gave the rundown on everything.”

You hum. “You can tell the truth.” 

“I— I am,” he says. He’s clearly not. “He didn’t say anything bad about you. Promise.” 

“Whatever you say.” You land on a DVD and glance over at him. “How do you feel about Groundhog Day?” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t like Bill Murray.” 

You frown. “That’s ridiculous. How can you not like Ghostbusters?” 

“I love Ghostbusters.” 

“How can you like Ghostbusters but not Bill Murray?” 

“Because I like the concept more than I like him,” he says. “I love Halloween.” 

You shake your head and move on. “Who put these together?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Gideon? Or maybe some random BAU office worker.” 

“It’s an interesting compilation.” You look up at him again. “How about Dirty Dancing?” 

“No.” 

“No reasoning?”

“I don’t feel like dealing with a musical right now,” he says. 

“So you choose to deprive me of Patrick Swayze,” you tut. You grab one movie out of the back and hold it up. “If I put on Goodfellas, will you interrupt every five seconds with facts?”

“...I can push it back to every thirty seconds,” he says. 

“Five minutes,” you say. 

“One minute.” 

“Two.” 

“One forty-five?” 

“Two—take it or leave it.” 

“Technically I have all the power here,” Spencer says. “I can talk nonstop about anything. Putting down a movie narrows that down.” 

“...One fifty.” 

He nods, and you huff a disbelieving laugh as you put the DVD in the player. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re ridiculous?” 

“A lot,” he says as he sits down on the couch. “I usually get insufferable or weird or annoying, though. So ridiculous isn’t too bad.” 

“Well, you’re certainly something.” 

“That’s also not too bad,” he says. “I could even take it as a compliment.”

You sigh and pick up the remote before you sit back down. You look up at the clock on the wall and bite back a curse. 

“It’s only been ten minutes,” you mutter. 

“Ten minutes and thirty-four seconds, actually,” Spencer says. “Did you know that Scorsese actually cast real mobsters as extras? The cast members were told ahead of time so they could show the necessary respect to them while they were on set. There’s a whole mafia hierarchy, and only full-blooded Italians—”

“I haven’t even gotten to the start screen,” you interrupt in disbelief. 

Spencer shrugs. “You said every minute and fifty seconds. Not how long I could go on for.” 

You let out another sigh as he continues on. You bet Spencer could probably recite the whole movie from memory if you asked, but you honestly don’t know if you could take that. 

There’s one plus, at least. When you’ve got a human encyclopedia next to you that can spout off whatever information he wants any time he wants, you think you’re gonna have a hard time thinking too much about your stalker. 

You look over at Spencer when you finally make it to the opening scene, still talking but now about the different crime families in the United States. His eyebrows are surprisingly animated when he talks, going up and down depending on his inflection, and you find yourself thinking that it’s charming. 

It’s annoying how pretty he is, and it’s annoying how annoying he is. 

You look away. 

This is going to be a very long lockdown.

[shanastoryteller]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDMA MY ONE TRUE LOVE!!! CAN I HAVE SOME PERCY AND TONKS CONTENT TO MAKE MY SOUL CONTENT PLEASE ✨✨✨

There are several titles that fall under the auror. When the ministry was first established, it was just inferior and superior, meant in the Latin way, but that fell out of favor rather quickly for obvious reasons. There was some talk of adopting the ranks of a legion used by the Romans, but since such ranks are still in practice in magical Italy, it didn’t the smartest idea. Tonks thinks that it was probably a Zabini who suggested it. Now their ranks are just numbered, from fifth to first, and junior, standard, and senior.

Everyone starts the same – fifth ranked junior auror – and works their way up one by one. Training is a year and if they make it through that, they’re a junior agent who better make it up to the first rank by the end of their third year, otherwise they’re likely getting cut.

There’s a track to speed through the junior phase and get to the land of securely employed standard auror, but that’s for people that have combat or specialized experience, usually for people who aren’t entering auror training straight of school like she is. Or for when they’d needed to replenish their ranks during the war and those applying had been fighting anyway.

Which is why she’s looking in confusion at the thick roll of parchment that Shackbolt has shoved under her nose. She’s only a couple months into training and while she thinks she’s doing pretty good, she’d also tripped over her literal two left feet during the first week of boot camp. Sometimes she changes in her sleep and doesn’t notice for a while, okay? It’s not like she did it on purpose. She’s pretty good at dueling, her mother made sure of that, but they haven’t even gotten to that part yet. “I’m confused.”

“Fill this out and give it back to me by the end of the week,” he says, already turning away from her.

She makes her arm extra long so she can grab his elbow before he gets too far away. “But I don’t have anything that qualifies me! There’s no way Bones will approve this.”

He raises an eyebrow and looks down at her arm. “Are you sure about that, Trainee?”

Oh. But she hasn’t really gotten a chance to show those skills off either, and being a metamorphmagus is impressive, but not that impressive. But she does as she’s told, leaving it on his desk and trying not to think too much about it.

Bones approves it.

Being on the advanced track has it advantages – blessed job security – but it also means she just gets a jump on desk duty, really. Apparently they don’t just send newly minted aurors out to battle dark wizards to the death, for some reason.

She sighs. She’s never been very good at paperwork.

How very not good she is at is proved when during her very first week when Percy Weasley shows up at her desk, looking even more sleep deprived than he had as a runty fourteen year old, which is impressive. He’s a lot taller now. Late growth spurt, perhaps. Or maybe she just wasn’t paying that much attention. He drops a stack of paper on her desk and she recognizes her own messy scrawl. “These are filled out incorrectly. I can’t process them like this.”

Her shoulders slump. She’d tried to pull other reports and fill them out the same way, but it was all so confusing. How she’s supposed to know how to categorize these things? Why are there thirteen different codes for a house robbery, anyway? And there are so many different sections, and she wasn’t even there, she just has other people’s notes to go off of, and they take notes like she did in History of Magic.

She’s going to be here all night redoing them and they’ll probably still be wrong and Kinglsey will regret ever pushing her through the advanced track and her mother will have been right, which is really the worst of all –

“Hey,” Percy says, and she blinks several times before looking up at him so she doesn’t embarrass herself. “I can – if you’re busy, I can just,” he reaches for the papers he’s dropped on her desk.

She slaps her hand over them to stop him, but instead his hand ends up trapped beneath hers. “No! No, it’s okay, I have to learn how to do this. It’s important.”

He stares at her with a look she can’t explain. “It’s just paperwork.”

“It’s my job,” she says stubbornly, “it’s all important. I’m going to be a great auror – the best auror. And that includes my paperwork.”

He smiles at her, which is suitably distracting from her own ruined night. She doesn’t know if he’s ever smiled at her before. He’d always seemed so stoic, nothing like his brothers. “All right. If you’re sure.”

“Yes,” she says, freshly determined, finally lifting her hand off his. Everyone else has figured out how to do this. She can too. She will. “But thanks.”

“No problem,” he says, then, “My dad has a muggle coffee pot in his department lounge. If you want. The password is rubber duck.”

She does prefer coffee made the muggle way. That’s how it’s made in her house, of course, with her muggle father, and there’s something to the taste that she thinks coffee loses after it’s third hour of being charmed hot or squeezed through by magic instead of just hot water and a little patience.

How does Percy know that?

Before she can ask, he’s already turned and walking away from her, and she barely has the chance to shout, “Thanks!” before he turns the corner.

[dark-dragon-8]

In case you guys couldn't tell, Dick Grayson, AKA Nightwing, is my favorite DC character. Specifically because I can just write/imagine him however way I want, within the realm of (fanon) reason, and someone will agree with me/there's already a fic about it.

Want to read about a murderous character? Nightwing has once killed the Joker and (as far as I know) didn't regret it. Not to mention Renegade also exists (along with former Talon AU, secret/resolved "killer" AU, where he kills but doesn't tell anyone, and more minor ones as well) and there are several fics where he takes on that alias in order to deal with some "unfinished business" regarding his family.

Want to read about an undercover character using their looks and flirting to their benefits (and having the attention of everyone at the bar by simply existing and being hot)? I have read so many undercover Dick Grayson that wore the sluttiest outfits just to get info. Even read a few where he did it to make his siblings (mainly Jason) more comfortable since they weren't comfortable with it yet that was his forte (regardless of whether or not he liked doing that as well).

Looking for a rich (kinda spoiled, an act, but still lovable and amazing) Nepo baby that everyone thirsts over in the gala? Richie Wayne is right there and is the eldest Wayne/heir, that's bound to cause some drama at parties/Galas (esp with protective Batfam) and I love that (please give me more fics like that, I can barely find any).

Want a badass vigilante that can beat the absolute life out of criminals and defeat Batman with relative ease? Nightwing is one of the strongest members of the Batfam, if I remember correctly he even defeated Cassandra/an opponent equal to Cassandra before.

Want to read an angst filled story about a character that feels like they're being objectified all the time and just wants a break? Do I even have to say it?

Want a character study about how the annoyed/stubborn/exhausted guy from the comics turned into an "attention whore" on fics? I remember reading (and even writing) character studies where Dick is suffering from stuff such as hypersexuality and anxiety issues where he needs people to see/notice/pay attention to him as a result of his sexual trauma (the assault & other stuff he went through).

And so much more. The duality of that man, when a character has such a variety of interpretations and ways to write about them it just fills that writer/storyteller/reader in me with joy. That complex potential that I seek in characters, like being able to kill someone while also being a hero loved by the hero community, a celebrity loved by the world and a few beyond it, a spoiled rich kid when he likes to indulge himself and a victim that has suffered through so much, it's natural to give them different ways (separation anxiety, exhibitionism, aversion to touch, etc) to cope and deal with the horrible hand that was given to them. It's just something that is very rare to come across in a character, especially one so well known and loved for all of those different things rather than only one or two of them taking over the entire character and its interpretation, and I really love Nightwing for being that character for both writers and readers looking for somethings and finding all they could ask for and more in just a singular tag (ofc I know the other characters have a variety as well, Dick just has such a big variety and his "spectrum" is so big, vast and versatile, he has a piece of the fandom for everything, like a bunch of different characters smacked into one, all sharing the same name, it's why I chose him specifically and why I love reading about him the most specifically).

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY LELIANA - ROMANCE *  lines taken from the leliana romance in dragon age: origins

what i'm trying to say is... is that i trust you. i'm comfortable around you. i know you'll be there when i need you.

well... aren't you sweet and attentive?

oh, the games you play.

did you know your eyelids flutter when you dream? and you have such pretty eyelashes.

listen, i want to spend the night with you. there, i said it.

where's the fun in that?

now come with me before i lose my patience.

i do not regret any of the pain, the anger, the loneliness... because it brought me to you.

i... love you. it's so wonderful to say that to someone again.

there isn't much more i can say. my feelings have been laid bare. you are... very special to me.

i'm here for you.

i might need some company... and you're not too irritating. you're welcome to come along if you like.

it is settled then. you and i... wandering the world, seeking our fortunes. i can't wait.

maybe you should let your softer side show more often.

i enjoy those nights when we stand guard together, talking to pass the time in those small hours.

sometimes following your heart, not your head, leads you to remarkable places.

i enjoy the nights at camp. the night always seems more peaceful to me. safer.

sometimes i succumb and fall asleep, and wake to find you still watchful and i know you're watching out for me.

you are our leader, and my friend, and... sometimes i think that maybe we could be more than that.

i knew this would come up sooner or later.

even in the midst of this darkness, there is hope and beauty. have faith.

no more lies between us, at least in this.

it feels good to have this off my chest. thank you for listening, and understanding.

flowers? for me? oh... they're beautiful.

thank you so much for remembering.

this story is one of my favorites, a tale of love so great and so enduring that it defies death and moves the gods to action.

sometimes i ask myself, does such a love exist? can it exist?

i never expected you to say that. it is... a pleasant surprise.

i have to say there is a certain severity to you. finding a person behind that all is nice.

i'm not embarrassed! i'm just... flushed because of the heat...

you often show signs of intelligence and you're fairly good looking... most of your facial features are in the right place.

you're already helping so much by listening to me.

people are starting to look at me strangely. we will speak of this again, i promise.

you don't know how it makes me feel to hear you say that.

now it's getting late. i think i might... turn in early.

i can't help thinking about how soft and warm my bedroll is.

you know i enjoy your company.

it would be nice if you came with me.

stop pretending you don't know what i want.

i've been up for some time, but yes, i slept very well.

i've just been watching you sleep.

knowing you will be the first thing i see when i wake gives me no small amount of comfort.

i feel safe in your arms. safe, loved, and accepted. this is where i belong.

you are my dearest friend and my love. you lit my path through darkness and i will stand with you, to whatever end.

i imagine that whatever you get up to, it'll be anything but boring.

[2amriize]

˚⟡˖ RIIZE when you tell them you wanna break up

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst, fluff pairing bf!riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

You had never seen Shotaro so serious in your life. For a few days, you'd been feeling like Shotaro wasn’t giving you the attention you needed, as he had become too obsessed with a song he had to choreograph. Even though you knew it might be temporary, you had been having a rough week, and despite knowing that, you hadn’t received his support.

Shotaro immediately regretted the way he had acted. When he heard you asking to break up, he grabbed your hands, shaking his head several times.

“Y/n, I’m really sorry… I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you these past few days, but please, let me make it up to you. Please, don’t leave me…”

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

“Are you serious?”

Eunseok couldn’t believe you were asking to break up. He couldn’t understand why; what had happened? Had he done something wrong? Just a few days ago, everything seemed perfect, so why were you asking to end it now?

You didn’t really have an answer for him either. It wasn’t something he had done, but more that you were feeling bad about yourself and didn’t want that to affect him. You were surprised to see tears falling down his cheeks. Eunseok, who was always joking around, had started to cry.

“You don’t have to leave me because of this, y/n. I can help you… You don’t know how much I love you. You can’t leave me like this…”

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

He couldn’t stop his eyes from filling with tears, but he still tried not to cry. What mattered most to him in that moment was you, and the first thing he wanted was to understand why you were acting this way. Why were you asking to break up when he thought everything was going well between the two of you?

It’s true that you had small fights from time to time, but you always managed to find a solution. Even though it hurt, you felt like you needed some time alone, but seeing Sungchan kneel before you, begging you not to leave him, made you feel terrible.

“Is it really necessary? I don’t want to let you go, y/n…”

ᯓ★ WONBIN

“Did I do something wrong? I know I mess up sometimes, y/n, but I can fix it…”

Wonbin was looking at you with his big eyes, that puppy-like gaze that always made you weak, so you decided to look away from him. You knew Wonbin would think that if you broke up, it was because of something he did, when in reality, it wasn’t about him—it was about you.

You hated how people compared you to other girls and how, even if they didn’t say it to your face, everyone seemed to think you weren’t good enough for Wonbin. You couldn’t help but feel bad, knowing that’s how people viewed you as Wonbin’s girlfriend.

“Babe, you know you don’t really want to break up, so why are you doing this to me? I want to be with you, and only you.”

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

At first, he would think you were joking, so he’d laugh a little. But when he saw how serious you were, his smile would vanish completely. He’d sit down next to you, looking directly into your eyes, trying to get you to look back at him.

He couldn’t believe you were asking to break up, especially after just a few weeks ago, you had bought matching rings and cried together about how much you loved each other. So, what had changed?

When you explained that you would likely have to move to another city a few hours away for work, Seunghan let out a sigh, feeling a bit relieved.

“That’s why…? You know I’d be with you even if you lived on another planet, y/n. Please, don’t leave me because of this…”

ᯓ★ SOHEE

“Is that what you really want? For us to break up?”

Sohee was confused. Your relationship was going well, and even though you’d only been together for a few weeks, he felt really comfortable with you. So why did you suddenly want to end things? Had you changed your mind?

What Sohee couldn’t understand was why you were the one crying when you were the one asking to break up.

He obviously didn’t want to end things with you, but he couldn’t force you to stay in a relationship you didn’t feel comfortable in. So, gently stroking your back, he said;

“Y/n, you know I want to keep this going, right? I can’t stop you from leaving me, but I just want you to know… I really love you.”

ᯓ★ ANTON

“No… I… Why?”

Anton’s voice trembled, and it didn’t take long before tears began streaming down his cheeks. You hated seeing him like this—it hurt you too much. But it hurt even more to know that your family didn’t have a good opinion of him.

For some reason, your parents thought Anton was a bad influence on you, simply because you had been spending less time studying and more time with him. At first, you decided to ignore it, thinking other people’s opinions shouldn’t affect your relationship, but eventually, it got to you. Anton knew how this was making you feel, but he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go, so he practically begged you not to leave him.

“Please, y/n, don’t do this… I want to stay by your side.”

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori

[magics-neptunes-things]

Winter is coming

Hi guys!

This is the first time I try to write with two existing people, I hope it suits you. I don't really know what to think about it to be honest.

Also I apologize if there are weird things, I received a new lava lamp that bubbles for my birthday and it hypnotizes me x)

Do not hesitate if you have suggestions or requests, I will respond as soon as possible ♥

It was a request right here by the way.

TW : Mention of nudity

Enjoy!

P.S I'm sorry for the title

The icy Swedish cold seems to pierce the Barcelona players tonight, during the game between FC Barcelona and Rosengård. Apart from Ingrid Engen and her Norwegian origins, most Spanish players seem to suffer particularly from the cold. Despite the relatively easy win as the match ended with a 5-0 for Barcelona, Lucy can only notice Ona’s defeated and tense face.

After a few seconds of hesitation, the English decides, despite their vain attempts to keep their couple deprived, of joining her, the need to know what’s happening to Ona more important than her desires for discretion. Ona doesn’t turn around when Lucy calls her name, a bottle under her arm and applauding, her face turned towards the audience.

In a few strides, Lucy finally reaches her height, gently placing her hand on the neck of the young woman. This doesn’t prevent Ona from being a little startled before relaxing when she realizes that it’s only Lucy who is behind her.

"Is everything okay?" Lucy asks, immediately seeking to plunge her eyes into Ona’s.

"I'm fine" Ona simply replies, without even trying to smile.

This seems to quickly alert the English, perhaps a little too used to seeing Ona smiling and radiant at her side. Ona puts her hands on her face while Lucy speaks again.

"It doesn’t look like it"

Lucy’s tone is gentle and delicate, certifying that there is only concern behind it and that it isn’t for the push to confession in any way. The attention warms the heart of the Catalan, unlike her sore fingers.

"I’m fine, Luce. I’m just cold" begins Ona before turning in the direction of the English. "I just couldn’t wait for the game to end. The last ball I took from my head gave me the impression that I was given a huge slap on the face"

To explain better, Ona carries a gloved hand on the side of her face, making Lucy laugh softly.

"Nice assist anyway" compliments the brunette, making Ona smile. "I'm going to the locker room before losing all my fingers. You come with me?"

Ona nods and follows in Lucy’s footsteps, seizing her gourd to drink some water, regretting however that it’s not a good hot tea. Shivers run through all her body all the way to the dressing room and she willingly wraps herself in a blanket when she’s inside.

"I have no desire to undress" Ona admits from the bench on which she sits, huddled under her blanket.

"I can give you a hand if you want" Lucy offers with a grin.

Ona laughs softly and shakes her head, trying not to let her eyes slide too often towards Lucy who is changing. She is helped a little by their teammates who join little by little the locker room, Aitana seems even more disturbed by the cold than her. Unlike Ona, Aitana almost never left Spain to play, so she never had to face Manchester’s winter on a daily basis.

Lost in her thoughts, Ona realizes that Lucy is completely changed only when she comes to sit next to her on the bench. She passes her hand energetically into the back of the Catalan, seeking to create a friction to warm her.

"How about not showering now and taking a nice warm bath back at the hotel?" whispers Lucy to Ona while bowing an eyebrow.

"I really like this idea" Ona says with a smile.

Ona finally found the courage to get out of her blanket to change also, putting on with relief several layers of clothes to warm up as much as possible. In the bus taking them back to the hotel, Ona sits on a seat next to the window and Lucy doesn’t hesitate a single second before sitting next to her. They have no particular rules and sit very often next to other people, but this evening the older one have the impression that there is more than the cold which bothers Ona.

Ona gradually lets herself go against Lucy and when the bus finally starts once everyone has arrived, the head of the youngest is fully on Lucy’s shoulder. Even if Ona is tactile and her love language is physical contact, she isn’t the type to have such intimate gestures in public. But Lucy says nothing, promising herself to ask Ona questions once they are in their hotel room. And when Lucy gently puts her hand on Ona’s leg, she tightens a little more against her.

After a group meal in the hotel’s dining room, Ona quickly returns to their room but it’s only a few minutes after Lucy joins her. When the brunette arrives in their room, Ona is on the phone and speaks quickly in what Lucy recognizes to be Catalan. Understanding that her girlfriend is either on the phone with her mother or her older brother, Lucy gently closes the door behind her and approaches her girlfriend from behind.

"Say hello to them for me" Lucy whispers in Ona’s ear before kissing her neck.

The shivers that runs through Ona isn’t related to the cold this time, but to the pleasant sensation of Lucy’s lips on her skin. Smiling softly, Ona turns her head in Lucy’s direction with a small smile.

An exchange of eyes later while the interlocutor of Ona tells her something, Lucy smiled softly at Ona before kissing her nose and letting her go. Seeing Ona’s sulky face, Lucy smiled softly.

"I’ll prepare the bath" she whispers again.

Ona nods and sits on their bed to end her conversation, her eyed following Lucy as she sneaks into the bathroom. It’s not every time there’s a bathtub in their hotel rooms, but since there’s one it’s great to enjoy it, right?

When Ona joins Lucy a few minutes later in the bathroom, the bathtub is fully filled and Lucy is adding foam.

"Tadam!" Lucy happily sings, triggering the laughter of the Catalan. "Lady Batlle’s bath is ready"

"It’s Miss for now, thank you very much"

Lucy smirk for any answer, watching Ona get rid of the thick sweatshirt she had been wearing until now.

"Aren’t you coming with me?"

Ona’s question is posed with a touch of concern when she realizes that Lucy doesn’t make the slightest gesture to join her while she is on almost entirely ready to enter the bathtub.

"If you want, but I wanted to let you relax before I talk to you about something."

Lucy almost immediately regrets her choice of words when she sees Ona’s face painted with worry. The brunette frozes, with only one leg entered in the water while she was stepping over the bathtub.

"Nothing dramatic Oni, don’t worry" adds Lucy, smiling affectionately to reassure her.

It only seems to work half way, since even if she ends up nodding and sitting in the hot water, Ona’s gaze is always anxious. Deciding to join her instead of mentally slapping herself, Lucy gets rid of her clothes, leaving them on the pile of clothes already formed by those of Ona.

Settling behind Ona, Lucy sighs of relief as she feels her muscles relax in the hot water. Even if she seemed less affected by the cold than Ona, this didn’t prevent that it was probably not her favorite conditions to play a football match.

"Come here, Love"

Passing her arms on each side of Ona’s body, Lucy draws her all against her, smiling when she feels Ona pressing her face into the hollow of her neck. Sliding her fingers along her hips, the English girl thinks about the best way to engage the conversation. The language difference between them was never a problem, Ona speaks really good English despite her accent that Lucy simply finds adorable. And Lucy understands Spanish perfectly well and also does well in this language by spending time with their Spanish teammates.

"What did you want to talk about?" asks Ona, interrupting Lucy’s thoughts.

"You"

The answer seems to surprise the Catalan who takes off her face to be able to better observe her girlfriend.

"Me?"

"Yes, I think you looked trouble by something. As if you were thinking of something, not really here you know? I know you told me it was the cold, but I feel like there’s something else"

Ona briefly bites her lip before answering, choosing the words she will use to not lie to Lucy without worrying her too much.

"I’m a little tired, that’s all" Ona replies, continuing to see Lucy’s unconvinced gaze. "I’ve been playing a lot lately between the national team and Barca. And even though I love it and wouldn’t do anything else, tonight was really complicated for me. I was exhausted at the end of the game."

"Why didn’t you ask for a replacement?"

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows when Ona shrug, turning her head to look ahead. Her back leaning against Lucy’s front.

"I won’t let the team down"

Knowing Ona’s determined and stubborn character, Lucy can only imagine perfectly the reasons that pushed Ona to finish the match as planned in Jona’s head. And, knowing also that it’s useless to discuss with the Spanish for the moment, Lucy decides instead to change the subject. For the moment. Or rather try to relax Ona as much as possible. Stepping back a few centimeters, Lucy put her hands in the back of the brunette, drawing her tattoos with her fingertips before starting to massage her back. She presses her fingers along the shoulder blades and the neck of Ona, taking the time for each of the muscles of the Spaniard.

"Madre mia" moans Ona, making Lucy smile.

"Are you moaning already?" jokes Lucy maliciously.

It also amuses the youngest, who gives her a little playful slap on the leg. But apart from that, she remains peacefully motionless, too relieved by the attentions that Lucy brings her.

"You are so tense" the English mumbles feeling the muscle knots everywhere in her back.

Ona humms simply for any answer, eyes closed and as transported elsewhere by the benefits of this massage. She could fall asleep on the spot. But her smile was reborn on her lips when she felt Lucy’s lips again on her neck and in her neck.

"Is that part of the massage?"

"Only for you"

"Because you massage a lot of other people?" Ona informs herself, an innocent look on her face.

"No" laughs Lucy. "On the other hand if someone other than me does it to you, you have to inform me because I need to kill him"

Ona laughs softly and opens her eyes, tightening a little more against her girlfriend’s body, tilting her head back to look at her.

"I’ll think about it the next time I go to the physios at the training center"

Even if the sentence is said in the tone of the joke, Ona can’t help but feel a heat wave in the hollow of her belly by noticing the upset air that emerges for a few moments on Lucy’s face. The idea that she may be jealous for her will never cease to amaze her.

"Bésame, por favor" murmurs Ona.

Obviously, Lucy oblige and quickly breaks the few inches existing between their lips. Soft and tender at first, the kiss deepens when Ona raises her hand to place it on Lucy’s cheek and keep it longer against her.

A few minutes later, Ona had turn around in Lucy’s arms to sit on her lap, causing them both to lose their balance when Lucy slips into the tub and finds herself lying on her back.

When their laughter ends up interrupting, their glances plunge into each other. One arm holding her firmly against her, Lucy gently pushes back a long strand of brown hair behind Ona’s shoulder.

"You may decide not to take care of yourself, but count on me to make sure you do, Ona. And you can also count on me to take care of you. And you can talk to me if you need to, you don’t have to do all by yourself. I’m here for you that’s what a relationship is about to. Let me be there for you."

What’s the answer to that? Ona, who is still struggling to realize that her celebrity crush is sincerely and deeply infatuated with her, finds herself suddenly without knowing what to say. But, luckily, Lucy to find all the words she can’t pronounce in her beautiful chocolate eyes.

"I’m so in love with you"

Ona’s confession, pronounced no higher than a murmur is however perfectly understandable in the tranquility of the bathroom. Only the lapping of the water is audible, adding to the serenity of the moment.

"I’m in love with you too" whispers Lucy in return, smiling, before stretching her neck a few centimeters to capture once again Ona’s lips with hers.

[ebullientheart]

dogs. aaron hotchner x reader

content — dogs🤍. fluff. humour. fem!bau!reader. brief mention of case. one swear. sorta sunshine!reader.

5 times you try to convince hotch to get a dog with you +1 time it works.

1. the scent dogs

a frazzled officer had handed you the leads of two sniffer dogs, running away on the insistence his captain was going to ‘kill me for letting them piss on his van again’. you had snorted sympathetically, meaning to tell him you’d love to help out but your unit chief would be expecting you; he was already running away.

you laughed and accepted your fate, wrapping the leads tightly around your knuckles and sitting cross-legged with them. they were eager for your affection and silly voices, even though they were squashing you in their best attempt at hugging. two large german shepherds, but probably the friendliest police dogs you’d ever seen.

“how do these things always happen to you, agent?”

hotch saw the way your shoulders stiffened, and regretted scaring you. the dogs seemed to pick up on this too, turning to the man with low growls at his interruption. you stifled your mirth at their reaction and twisted on the spot to look up at your slightly formidable, but currently intimidated by the dogs, boss.

you chanced a shrug, careful not to dislodge the canine leaning on your shoulder, “one of many mysteries, sir. wanna say hi?”

the look he gave you then was priceless; it was pure disgust. but at your giddy grin, he did crack the smallest of smiles on the hard stone of his face.

i wish i could make him smile all the time. no, shut up.

your mind was not on your side as you tried not to flush, instead burying yourself in between the dogs and letting them yip happily at the attention.

“don’t you just want one of them forever? or maybe both. look how cute they are!” you put your face between theirs.

hotch risked a muffled laugh and extended a hand, wondering how you were an adult. instead of putting your palm in his own, though you were severely tempted, you handed him the leads for the dogs.

“careful, there’s an angry captain on the prowl with a piss stained van. okay paperwork, bye!”

like the officer before you, you were gone before he could open his mouth to reprimand you. not that he was planning on reprimanding you. he was planning on asking if you wanted to get a drink post-case, but for now he had two other problems in the form of two disgruntled german shepherds.

2. the stray

the neighbourhood you were canvassing was not exactly upmarket. it had a high concentration of crime and poverty, and with that, plenty of malnourished animals that likely carried many diseases. no matter how much you loved them, and you did still love them, you were not planning to kneel down with them and touch. you weren’t carrying hand sanitizer.

“the unsub should be familiar to almost all of these people, he’s prominent in this community, so if- erm, shoo?”

seeing hotch startle back and weakly attempt to ‘shoo’ a stray dog was probably the highlight of your day. she was a small thing, possibly some kind of terrier, but too underfed to tell for sure. she sniffed at his ankles as though he’d have any food kept there, but besides that, made no threatening move. you took pity, unwrapping the sandwich you’d got from the hotel cafeteria to eat for lunch, and ripped it up into pieces to make it easier for her to chew. she wolfed it down and skittered off.

hotch frowned, “why would you give your lunch away?”

“she clearly needed it more than me. i hate people who abandon their pets….” you lamented, watching the assortment of strays on the outskirts of each alley. the dogs formed small packs, while the cats hunted alone, equipped with the ability to catch birds and mice.

the two of you kept walking, knocking on doors, when the idea struck you on the way back to the local precinct. you were only teasing, lacking even an ounce of sincerity.

“you should adopt one! i’m sure jack would be thrilled, and i don’t mind holding it on the plane home.”

he just deadpanned you and walked away at a pace you struggled to catch up with. eventually, he took pity as you had on the dog, and slowed down for you to fall in step next to him once more.

3. movie night

it had taken him quite a while, but hotch did eventually ask you out for that post-case drink, which turned into a few dinners, which turned into regular dates, until the two of you had a designated saturday night. this time, you were at his apartment watching a film he’d picked out from his limited stack of dvd’s.

“oh my god!”

hotch had left you alone for two minutes to get you a glass of water.

he raced back into the room, causing his hair to become disarrayed for probably the first time in his life, only to see you pausing the movie to point out… a dog.

he huffed, “are you kidding? my knees can’t cope with that, woman.”

you laughed, beckoning him over, “i didn’t mean to scare you, but look how cute he is.”

“i can see just fine from here.”

“suit yourself.”

but he caved, and crossed the distance between you. not to stare enthusiastically at the dog, but to kiss you on the cheek and press play on the remote while you were distracted by his affection.

you hummed, “i think i’m gonna get a dog.”

he raised a brow, “it’s never moving in here.”

now both completely ignoring the film playing behind his back, you smiled, “and i am?”

at the risk of sounding too forward and scaring you off, despite you being one of the most intense people he knew (and he knew garcia), hotch merely offered you a shrug and another quick peck before returning to the kitchen. you could hardly contain the glee on your face as you burrowed into the cushion you were clutching and tried not to let your thoughts get ahead of themselves.

4. jack’s plea

“i made a mistake.” hotch murmured to himself, watching you and jack bond.

as he once predicted, you were going to be the death of him. albeit a happy, glittery death.

your activity of choice to bond with the child you’d only officially met once so far, was to take him to a park. a dog park, where you volunteered in your free time. some people took their dogs there, others dropped them off with a volunteer for the workday. jack was jovially bonding with your daily pups, a young golden retriever, and an elderly pomeranian.

he tried to stack them, but you quickly intervened.

“mistake? the only mistake was not letting me get matching boots for him and the dogs.”

hotch just looked at you blankly, lacking the heat of a glare, but clearly unamused with your antics. externally, at least, because on the inside he was definitely smiling fondly at you. you took that from his eyes.

jack, at that moment, rushed to you with the enthusiastic dogs on his heels. you didn’t miss the fact hotch didn’t flinch as they jumped at him, whereas a few months ago he definitely would of. you decided that was progress, kissed him on the cheek, and knelt down to speak to jack.

he whispered conspiratorially, though loud enough for his father to hear, “i want to take one home.”

hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, while you looked between the two gleeful you, “well, little man, these lovely guys belong to some other lovely people who would miss them very much.”

you weren’t going to promise him on of his own. it wasn’t your place, and you were not in the business of making empty promises; you’d all but accepted that aaron’s reluctance translated to ‘never gonna happen’. it was just fun to tease.

jack nodded, “that’s true. i like the big ones, anyway.”

that was not what his dad wanted to hear, but you were elated.

“finally,” you laughed, entwining your arms behind aaron’s neck when jack went back to play, “a hotchner after my own heart.”

he only laughed back, spinning you around so you both had eyes on the adventurous kid, and keeping his arm firmly around your waist. eventually, he responded, “we work too much for a dog.”

the fact he’d even got that far in thinking about it? you considered it a win.

5. clooney

morgan didn’t ask the team for favours all that often, but occasionally he asked one of you to dogsit, if he knew nobody else could check in, feed, walk, and so on. reid never took that bait.

one extended, long weekend, on which he planned to travel to a nice resort on his time off, he handed responsibility to you. at first, you’d been delighted, but not even a day into bonding with your new pal, you’d fallen with the flu. fallen being an accurate term for your dramatics. luckily for you, you’d recently moved in with aaron.

luckily for him too, because you made much better pancakes than he did.

so while you were ill and uncharacteristically miserable, he was playing tug of war with the dog, and cursing himself for thoroughly enjoying it. jack rolled around laughing, and he was struggling to fend off the invasive thoughts that were result of your persistence. he had once promised to dedicating the parts of his life that weren’t reserved for profiling to making you happy, and while that was usually an easy task, a dog would…

but he cut the thoughts off when clooney peed on his kitchen floor.

yeah, fuck no.

later on in the day, he ventured into your shared room to check on you. pitifully, you curled into his side of the bed and offered a morose sniff in reply to his gentle greeting.

“how’re you feeling, honey?”

you sighed, unfolding the covers from where they were tucked into your chin, “you know how you felt when jack accidentally hit you in the skull with his metal lunchbox? worse.”

despite your detailed description, aaron took your verbose approach to his question as a sign you were on the mend. he brought you another glass of water, and let jack give you a get well soon card, while holding your breath to risk contaminating him. on the front, a rough sketch of clooney, holding a flower.

“this is the best card i’ve ever seen, jack.” you assured him, propping it on your nightstand.

“if we had a dog, i could put him on the card!”

you nodded, “that is true.” aaron rolled his eyes.

he was saved by your chest racking cough, ushering jack out the room to let you rest. jack was happy to run back down to clooney.

aaron gave you ‘the look’; it meant calm down and go to sleep. he gave it to the team a lot.

you had to giggle as he went downstairs to jack’s onslaught of ‘can we get a dog? when?’. you were proud of your little ally as you laid back down.

+1

having to work a case on your birthday was unfortunate but unavoidable. the team bought you a cake, which you really appreciated, and until the strangulations, there was a celebratory air to the unit. on the plane home two days later, spencer even offered to let you win at chess. you flipped him off for that.

in the car, you yawned dramatically. amused, aaron asked, “tired?”

you mumbled back, “jus’ wanna go home and see jack.”

he couldn’t ignore the way his heart tightened at that admission. glancing over to your sleepy face, he didn’t think he’d yet been this in love with you. if he regretted the decision he’d made on a phone call to jessica while in california, he would remember this moment. by the time he pulled into the driveway, you’d long since closed your eyes.

“honey, wake up. we’re home.”

you all but slugged your way to the front door, aaron’s hand between your shoulder blades, urging you onward. he carried both your bags, and tomorrow you’d apologise for not helping. today, you just wanted to check your stepson was tucked in for the night, then crawl into your own bed and collapse.

to your confusion, the tv was still playing. which wouldn’t be strange, jessica did put it on sometimes, but it was playing cartoons. you frowned, off to investigate. if you’d turned and seen aaron’s smile, you would’ve been more confused.

“hey, little man, what are you still doing up?” you opened your arms and he ran to them, while you gave his aunt a quizzical look. she gestured for you to turn around, jack giggling.

behind you, aaron held a gorgeous puppy, looking at you with round, brown eyes, inset in a face of smooth fur. his tail whipped back and forth excitedly as you reached out to hold him. aaron deposited him carefully in your arms, overcome with second hand joy at the expression on your face.

tearfully, from your exhausted state and fear of his answer, you asked, “are you kidding?”

he shook his head, while jack drew your attention again. he wanted to pet the puppy.

you lightly put him to the floor, where he ambled around with little grace, absorbing all the attention you had to offer him. at some point, aaron had to intervene and put jack to bed, but you stayed with the dog for hours on.

almost nervously, aaron asked, “do you like him?”

you gaped at the ridiculous question, “i love him. and i love you.”

there was a quiet moment, where he admired the happiness before him, and you hugged your new friend some more.

“can he sleep in with us, aaron?”

“absolutely not.”

[justbagel]

𝐈𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮||𝐬. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

𝟎𝟏|weirdos

|𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬|: 1.3k words, this first chapter is really boring in my opinion, but hang in with me D:

masterlist | next chapter

𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟓𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟓

You stiffly sat in the drivers seat, visibly uncomfortable as you watched Aiko and her boyfriend say their "final goodbye" to each other for the thousandth time. You were already regretting agreeing to bring Aiko's boyfriend with you to Shibuya.

"I love you!" The brunette giggled, clinging onto the white haired male in front of her. You took notice of the dark round shades he wore, which you thought looked ridiculous. Aiko has always had well, interesting... taste in men to say the least.

The tall, lanky man grinned and wrapped his arms around her, reciprocating her affection. "I love you."

The couple then pulled each other into a long passionate kiss, which then turned into several more. You deadpanned at the couple as they ignored you, seemingly trapped in their own world.

'Are they being serious?' You've done plenty of third wheeling in your 22 years of living, but this definitely was some of the worst. You've been parked here for almost thirty minutes and they still haven't finished saying goodbye.

Finally deciding to try and gain your friend's attention, you cleared your throat. "Ahem.."

Nothing.

You were shocked that two people could kiss this long. "Ahem!" You cleared your throat louder this time, finally gaining Aiko's attention, causing her to pull away from her lover.

"Oh hi Y/N." Aiko smiled sheepishly, her eyes flickering with an apologetic glance. "Y/N, this is Satoru Gojo. Satoru, this is Y/N L/N."

"Nice to meet you." Gojo smirked, turning towards you.

"You want to drive the first shift?" You asked, gesturing to the wheel in front of you.

"Nah, I'm good." The male lazily stretched, wrapping an arm around Aiko.

"Suit yourself." You shrugged. Guess this means you wouldn't have to drive some of the later shifts. You two still had a 6 hour car ride ahead of you, after all.

"The trunks unlocked, so you can toss your bags in there." You gestured to the multiple bags he had beside him.

Gojo grabbed his luggage and strolled toward the back of the car, Aiko trailing close behind. You noticed that he walked in a way that made it seem like he owned the ground he walked on. It was hard to tell if it was confidence or arogance, but it was definitely something.

"Call me as soon as you get there." The girl sadly smiled at her boyfriend, grabbing onto his right arm.

"I'll call you even sooner." The male  Charismatically smiled down on her, pulling her into another passionate kiss. Aiko's fingers curled into his shirt, and you could barely stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

Sensing where this was going, you honked the horn of the car before things would escalate, and you'd have to awkwardly sit for another thirty minutes. The two of them flinched and turned towards your direction, the sudden noise frightening them.

"Sorry." You smirked, poking your head out of the window looking at the duo. The two then made there way back to the front of the car, Aiko giving Gojo a sad look.

"I miss you already."

Gojo grinned and pulled her into one last kiss before finally  getting into the passenger seat.

"Call me!" Aiko shouted as you drove off.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊★‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

You didn't consider yourself to be an irritable person, but in the short time you knew Gojo, you discovered that he had a talent for finding every single one of your nerves and pressing down hard.

First thing he did when he slid into the car? He kicked his feet up onto the dashboard, stretching like he had nowhere to be and nothing better to do. You could feel your eye twitching as you gripped the wheel a little harder. All you could do was focus on not breaking the speed limit as you tried to ignore the fact that his sneakers were now inches from your windshield.

Then, not too long after, he ripped open a large bag of chips and started crunching loudly. Somehow each crunch sounded even louder than the last, and you didn't even want to think about all of the crumbs he was spilling everywhere. It was impossible to ignore.

'Gosh this guy really is obnoxious. What did Aiko see in this guy?' You thought to yourself, stiffly tapping your fingers against the steering wheel. You didn't want two seemingly small things to affect your judgement of this guy, but you really wanted tell him off.

"So, why Shibuya?" Gojo asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

You glanced over at him. "I want to become a writer."

"A writer? Sounds boooooringggg!" Gojo flopped back in his seat, staring out the window with exaggerated disinterest.

'This guy really has some nerve..' You could feel a vein popping out of your forehead as you clenched your jaw and smiled bitterly at the road.

"Oh yeah? Why are you going to Shibuya then?" You shot back.

"I'm staying there with a friend." His answer was immediate, and just like that the conversation hit a wall.

You were about to attempt to break the silence, but suddenly both of your attentions were taken by a loud voice on the radio.

"And this is actually a new special we're doing..we're calling it 'How We Met.' We're going to be interviewing couples and they'll tell us the story of how they met!"

You glanced at the radio. You recognized this station, it played often on the radio when you drove. The special didn't seem to interest you. You've heard plenty of love stories already from your friends, and you were just forced to witness Gojo and Aiko's in person not too long ago.

Gojo on the other hand, seemed fascinated by the announcement. He leaned forward, eyes lighting up. "Ooh this sounds interesting. I love a good love story."

You glanced over at him, an eyebrow raised. "Really? I didn't take you for that type."

He shrugged. "What can I say? People love a good cheesy romance."

A woman's soft voice cut through the air from the radio. "...Yes, well the man that I actually broke up with was extremely wealthy. But it was all worth it because he treats me so much better!" The woman giggled and in the background you heard a mans affectionate chuckle.

"What!? Why would she break up with her rich boyfriend to get with some poor broke loser??" Gojo questioned, eyebrow twitching.

"You really wouldn't do the same if you were in her situation?" You questioned, genuinely surprised by his answer.

Gojo chuckled, stretching again, a lazy smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Of course not. I wouldn't settle for someone who doesn't offer something. It's all about who's got the most to give."

"Well, that's one way to see it," you muttered, gripping the wheel tighter. "But there's more to a relationship than that. It's about who pushes you to be better, not just who can give you stuff."

Gojo's grin didn't falter, and he leaned back in his seat. "Well I am better than most people. Most just can't meet that standard." He chuckled, half joking, but there was something you noticed in his tone that suggested he didn't fully get what you meant.

You clicked your tongue, trying to keep the conversation light, but your voice held a touch of sincerity. "That's the thing. It's not about you being better than the other person or vice versa, it's about growing together and helping each other improve."

Gojo's laugh echoed throughout the car as he stretched, clearly not bothered by your conversation nor taking you seriously. "You clearly have a lot to learn Y/N, don't you not even have a boyfriend?"

You gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Maybe. But you could stand to listen every now and then."

For a split second, the silence in the car was thick, the tension almost palpable. Then Gojo chuckled again, seemingly unbothered, as if this was all just part of the ride. Something in that moment stuck with you. Maybe he didn't get it. Maybe he never would. But you could already tell that the next few hours were going to be interesting.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Geto Confessing His Feelings On A Mission Assignment

Geto Suguru X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Suggestive themes, Gojo is a meddler

Word Count: 1k

(A/N:) With this I have officially made 300 posts! Oh my goodness how time flies! I write a lot for Gojo and Nanami that I haven't written anything for the Geto fangirls. So this is my gift to y'all! I do have an imagine in the works for several of the JJK guys so keep an eye out! I hope to start work on that soon! It's in my drafts I just have to find time to write it! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

You walked between Geto and Gojo down the side streets of Tokyo. Scrolling through your phone, you ignored the guys surrounding you while they shoved one another playfully. Gojo had a mischievous gleam in his bright blue eyes and Geto could only glare at his best friend. He regretted the day he had confessed the way he felt about you to the tall white haired sorcerer. And you oblivious to his feelings thought of him as a really good friend and fellow Jujutsu High student. Shoko had stayed behind on this particular mission, but little did you know it was Gojo's doing that you joined him and Geto.

"Let's check out this crepe place when we're done," you said showing both of them your phone screen. They weren't paying attention, still shoving at one another. You rolled your eyes elbowing both Gojo and Geto in the ribs. This time they started behaving themselves holding their throbbing sides.

"The curse should be right around here," Gojo said his eyes roving around.

Geto shrugged, hands in his pockets as he stood close by your side. You still weren't paying that much attention when Gojo started to walk off.

"I'll go this way and look around, you two go that way," he said pointing towards a park.

Geto glared at his friend who wiggled his fingers in reply. Geto flipped him off, causing Gojo to just laugh obnoxiously and continue onwards.

"Hey shouldn't we stick together," you argued, worried at what trouble Gojo could get himself into.

"I'll be fine," he chuckled. "I'm the strongest after all."

"More like hard headed egotistical jerk," you grumbled, causing Geto to snort.

"Guess it's just me and you now," Geto said before taking off walking. He lumbered along slowly, letting you catch up as he kept his hands stuck deep in his pockets.

"I guess Gojo will never change," you sighed.

"Of course not," Geto rolled his eyes. "From here on out he'll just get worse."

"Don't worry Geto," you grinned patting his head while you both walked side by side, "I'll kick him really hard if he gets too out of control."

He laughed, the overwhelming urge to take your hand making Geto keep his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He kept having flashbacks to the first day you arrived at the school. You had never been among people that could see the things you could. It had frightened you and you found safety to see that you weren't the only one. Then your ability began to flourish and Geto was happy that you had become so comfortable with them. He also remembered how quickly he had become enamored by you. Of course Gojo had been the first to notice and wouldn't let Geto live it down, or forget it. He was bored with watching his dark haired friend not taking a chance on you. So Gojo had taken it upon himself to give Geto his chance, and this moment was of course one of his meddling schemes. Deep in thought, Geto didn't realize that he had been talking to him.

"Sorry?"

"First Gojo and now you are ignoring me," you pouted. "Do I have a disease or something? Am I even here?"

"N-no," Geto stammered. "You're perfect."

You flushed bright pink and he did the same when he realized what he just said.

"I mean...you're fine the way you are. And that you're amazing...and I'm sorry," Geto wanted to run and drown himself in the pond you both were walking around.

Seeing Geto so flustered honestly stunned you. It was sweet but it brought a side you never got to witness. Giving his arm a gentle squeeze, he quieted down, eyes wide and cheeks still blushing bright red.

"Thank you Geto," you soothed. "You don't have to explain yourself."

He sighed, cursing his best friend who had to be laughing his butt off right now while he took out the cursed spirit and Geto dealt with this. He had decided eventually he would tell you how he felt, but not anytime soon. So now Gojo's meddling had him confessing way sooner than he had wanted. Biting the bullet Geto took your hand and led you away from the crowds of people. Finding a quiet bench by a stream that fed into the pond he helped you to sit before he took the spot beside you. Looking down at his shoes instead of you, his stray lock of hair dangled down on one side of his face. You wanted to reach out and tuck it back behind his ear.

"Suguru?"

"I like you," he blurted. "I've liked you since the first time I saw you. I wasn't going to tell you but Gojo has been trying to force me into giving in and tell you. You weren't supposed to go on this mission, just me and him, and he talked them into letting you go. All because he wanted me to have some time alone with you."

You sucked in a breath, stunned that this was actually happening. The Suguru Geto was confessing and it had you giddy.

"I'm sorry for shoving this all on you. I didn't want to strain our friendship. I could live with you never knowing how I felt as long as we could remain friends."

You tapped Geto's shoulder and he looked up. The smile on your face had him realizing how much you cared about him.

"I am so relieved." Reaching out you tucked his hair back behind his ear. "I thought I was the only one who felt that way."

Geto melted, suddenly grabbing you and pulling you into a hug. You returned it gladly.

"I guess this means Gojo won," you whispered and Geto laughed.

"I say we let him guess if anything happened and refuse to tell him anything," Geto replied. You nodded eagerly. If you both could torture the sorcerer who seemed to know everything, you chalked it up as a win, and knowing how Geto felt about you was an added bonus. Geto suddenly stiffened before he stroked your cheek. He waited to see if you pulled away but you leaned into his touch. Unconsciously he leaned inward, taking your lips in a gentle kiss. You decided in that moment as Geto's soft lips caressed yours, that when you both were done torturing Gojo you would thank him. Because of him, the man you dreamed about had finally become yours and you couldn't be happier.

[alphacule]

No one asked for this but I'm going to talk about the alphacule for once instead of just drawing them doing random shit together.

So here's the state of the gang at the start of the polycule-

Hal is so used to being treated like shit by the others because of how things were before the game ended. It has had a severe effect on how he acts in the relationship in 2 main ways. First of all, he doesn't know how to react to affection- frankly, he really fucking likes it, but he has a hard time processing it to a degree that it can be straight up overwhelming for him. Second of all, he doesn't know where healthy boundaries are. He's so used to being dehumanized and degraded that he ends up reflecting this behavior back outwards and not realizing he's pushing people.

Dirk is terrified of fucking things up the way he did with Jake the first time. Because of this he often shys away from the others, trying to never ask for attention. Because of this he is constantly attention starved, while still failing to not be overbearing. He is constantly making the others feel pressured to stay around him, even though he's trying desperately not to do that.

Jane gets frustrated with the others a lot. She has a lot of anger but also a lot of regret. She doesn't want to be the person she was when she hurt the others- she wants to be good for them, to make them happy! But it gets on her nerves when Hal pushes, when Dirk clings, when Jake hides, etc- all of her partners annoy her in a way. But she also loves them and can't bear the idea of losing them, so she ends up pushing down her annoyances until they boil over and she lashes out.

Roxy is just trying to help everyone get along, and it stresses zir out. Ze loves zir partners a lot, but zes always the one doing a lot of the work in the relationship, mediating for the others and planning dates.

Jake loves his partners, but maybe not in the same way they love him. He thinks Roxy is attractive and all, but he can't imagine ever getting married or any of the nonsense ze talks about. He loves Dirk's presence, but he isn't particularly interested in most of the romantic things Dirk is. Jane is sweet and she keeps him in line, but golly, is she cuddly and a big gift giver, and Jake doesn't know how he feels about it, I mean, is he obligated to return back what she does for him? And Hal never makes him feel pressured into doing any of that stuff, but Hal is just so mean sometimes, it almost feels like Hal doesn't even like him. 

But as time goes on, things change. Roxy vents zir frustrations to Jane, and Jane realizes that maybe bottling up her feelings isn't helping anything. So Jane talks to Hal, sets the boundaries that everyone else hasn't. Hal realizes then that bullying the others isn't actually helping anyone, especially not Dirk- he's been trying to push Dirk to ask for the attention he needs, but it hasn't been working because he's been being a huge dick about it. So he tries being a little more encouraging, tries just… giving Dirk the attention he needs instead of trying to force Dirk to say the words. He obviously wants to build Dirk up to being able to communicate more clearly, but for now, this works. Jake talks about things a bit with some of his other friends and realizes some stuff, so, slowly, he tells each of the others how he feels. It's hard, and it feels like confessing all over again to have to explain how he really feels for them, but he does it. Lil hal is proud of him, and expresses this in a way that makes Jake realize that Hal in fact, does like him. It's a relief, and once it's all over its a huge weight off his back to realize his friends don't just want him because he can fulfill some fantasy of theirs, but because he's himself and they want him to be happy. Yada yada, things keep getting better for em, you get the point. I will maybe eventually talk about how calliope and caliborn come in but that's an issue for later me

[naanima]

Something that sort of resembles a plot outline for the sugarbaby Daniel thoughts that has been kicking around in my head.

Post Singapore. Daniel is tying to figure out what to do next - beyond current sponsorship and contract obligations. He has got his lawyers to tell RBR to stop using all of his images etc in any of their promo material. The bridge is burned completely.

He does everything real Daniel has done - go back to Aust, go to the US, go to the Bills game, go to Monaco to play padel with Max.

Then a month before F1 2025 season starts, he gets an invite to a FIA/F1 shindig that ONLY the team principals, the owners and current and future potential MAJOR sponsors are invited to. He is NOT sure why he is being invited. But he decided to say fuck it and go.

He regrets going about 10mins into the party. Bcos he sticks out like a sore thumb. The team principals are all eying him, like wtf are you doing here?!? And everyone else is eying him like something unpleasant or like a prime cut steak. So yeah. Not what he thought it would be all. He decides to cut his losses and leave, but this is when he is greeted by a dude called John. And Daniel clocks it straight away that man is rich, like billionaire rich. Daniel had met enough billionaires to know how.

They started chatting, John is older and taller, he is charming, funny and is fully engaged with Daniel chatting about motorsports, wine, Australia etc. And Daniel finds himself charmed. But he is also aware, in a sort of distant way, that he is being flirted with, and Daniel is sort of really enjoying it, and he does connect the dots that oh hey, you are the one who invited me!! And John is like, yes, I wanted to meet you and this seems better than stalking you.

Daniel is shook. Daniel is charmed. Daniel is a bit concerned at how he likes John's attention. John makes the decision that they should leave the party. Daniel is like, hmmm, I'm not gonna fuck you. John laughs and is all, "I don't sleep with people I meet for the first time."

So they leave the party, John takes Daniel to a suepr uber upscale private rich ppl club. They have a few drinks, have a lovely dinner, and at the end of the night John takes Daniel home, and kiss him ON THE CHEEK before leaving. Daniel is having thoughts. Daniel is thinking perhaps he has some kinks he wasn't aware of.

And then it is basically several months of meeting up for breakfast/lunch/dinner etc. And John keeps on giving SUPER EXPENSIVE gifts to Daniel. And Daniel is NOT poor, Daniel is fucking rich thank you very much. But Daniel DIDN'T realise how much he liked being gifted with SUPER EXPENSIVE but also things he loved, but didn't buy for himself bcos there's always that kid from Perth in him telling him not to be a fucking wanker. Freebies from sponsors is different! Having an interest in watches is to be EXPECTED. But diamond and gemstone bracelets are NOT, but John just keeps on gifting him these pieces!!

But yeah, somewhere during all of this Daniel realises he is dating John. And they HAVEN'T even kissed properly. But this slow approach is giving a chance for Daniel to realise that yeah, internalised homophobia sure is a fucking thing.

And that's basically all I got beyond just scenes - John buying Daniel fucking giant antique gold rings with fucking large rubies, thick golden chains, bracelets etc. and when Daniel gets his ears pierced, John gets Daniel custom made one of the kind earrings etc. and sometime along the way he drops the bomb that he's part owner of the Cadillac F1 team, and Daniel has to go shut himself in the bedroom and think about THINGS.

So, you see. This isn't a coherent fic plot yet. Just scenes and vibes. I just want a rich billionaire to treat Daniel all softly, and Daniel coming to the realisation that holy shit he actually like being treated like a baby girl. And omfg, it is so nice to not have to fight for every fucking thing in his life. And it is ok to dress pretty, wear SHINY rocks, and like, I want to put him in a fucking corset, OK?!

I just want to sort of explore Daniel without the stress and pressure of a F1 driver, a promotional monkey etc. Like, just gave Daniel be taken care of, and having him be able to be soft.

[angst-fairygodmother]

hi boo!!!! for your spotify game, how about diego andddddd 20??

btw i miss u <3

Bon! I miss you too! 💙 Sorry I haven't been around too much. Life is weird.

Anyway. I am kissing you on the mouth for this one (platonically) because it was PERFECT.

A/N: This is over 500 words, but it just sort of spilled out. I definitely could have written a lot things for this (including some Diego/Lila fixing but meh). And it doesn't even totally ignore S4, just the bullshit ending. Word Count: 747 (wrote it out of me at the speed of one too) Rating: T - pretty tame other than some language Spotify Wrapped Short Fics

Diego Hargreeves was a difficult man to understand, even for himself some day. Some might even say impossible. Maybe part of it came from the number of timelines he had lived, or not lived, through. Timelines where you were dead, or he was dead - had never been born? - or you were alive but living a life totally unknown to him, and he had another wife, who wasn’t unlike you in a lot of ways but wasn’t the same, and they had a whole three kids, picket fence life until she got bored and lost and cheated on him with his older-younger-twin? brother. 

But maybe that wasn’t it at all. You couldn’t put your finger on the reasons, and you weren’t sure they mattered at all. Maybe all that mattered was that in this timeline, they had died and then not died, and the children had been erased, and everything was forgotten - even now all those things you’d both seen and done were distant and foggy like a dream - but then you all found each other again. And she chose him, not his brother, and he chose you. And now you were sitting in a café with your perfectly ordinary friends and family around, listening to him give a speech with no sign of a stutter in sight about you, for your perfectly ordinary birthday (which was a perfectly ordinary birth, and you just happened to share it with your perfectly ordinary boyfriend and several perfectly ordinary friends that were a found second family now). 

Friends and family that were staring at you, expectantly. Shit. Had he asked a question?

“I…don’t know?” you asked, immediately regretting it as his face fell and your heart plummeted to the floor. That was definitely not the answer he was expecting, and the room was still dead silent and watching. 

“Fuck. Sorry. I mean…I…to be honest sweetheart, I wasn’t listening. I mean I was, but I zoned out a little bit. I just couldn’t help it. I was listening to you and you were being so sweet and adoring and I started asking ‘why?’ and then my mind was off: why do you love me, of all seven billion or whatever people in the world? The same way I can’t help thinking while we’re watching a movie, ‘why does my windowbox always sprout fucking marigolds no matter what I do?’ or ‘why do people like dogs that can’t breathe because their faces are so smushed?’ or ‘why does the sun rise and set, and why in the directions that it does?’ Why would you love me? I’m an asshole, exhibit A. And at the same time I was asking why you love me, I was asking why do I love you?”

His eyebrows were furrowed in that cute little way they did when he got contemplatively angry, and everyone was still staring and you could feel your neck heating to an inferno. So you plowed onward. 

“I mean why does anyone love anyone? But then I started thinking that it doesn’t matter. None of those questions need answers, for the world to go on and them to keep being true. I’m sure Five will have some boring, unromantic bullshit lecture prepared about chemicals and hormones, and also tell me how there are answers to all the science-y ones I asked, but I don’t want there to be, so he had better keep his damn mouth shut,” you shot a glare at the man in the corner who was definitely about to interrupt before looking back at Diego with your full attention.

“I love you. More than I can possibly express. There’s not a how, or a why, or limit, or a reason. It’s just…it’s fact. Incontrovertible, foundation of the universe, fact. So you have every right to be angry, and I am happy for you to be angry, and it won’t change anything. But I don’t have an answer for you, except I don’t know. And I love you.” 

He was shaking his head fondly, and walking toward you, and goddamnit the whole room was still staring but it didn’t matter because it was just you and him when he kissed you softly. 

“I’m going to take that trainwreck as a yes,” he teased, pulling back to press his forehead to yours and slip a delicate silver ring shaped like braided rope and brambles onto your finger.

“Oh,” you breathed. “Oh, now I get why that was a bad answer. Definitely yes.”

[tcwmatchmakingau]

As Sweet As Sugar

Pairing: Wolffe x F!Reader (no physical descriptions)

Rating: SFW 

Summary: Wolffe’s date is running late, and he finds himself wondering if he made a mistake.

A.N: This is my first Wolffe fic and I don’t know what I’m doing, so I figured I’d keep Part 1 short and sweet. I know typical Wolffe fanon sees him as more of a hard dom (I mean, I get it and I’m here for it…) but I wanted to take a softer approach with this fic.

Shout out to the reader who requested “Anything with Commander Wolffe where he is just a sweet kind flirty date?” 

Word Count: 687 (I’m shocked I was able to write something shorter than 2.5k words lmao)

Warnings: None, just fluff and first date awkwardness.

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

Wolffe was beginning to regret this decision. 

Dating… matchmaking? He didn’t have time for any of this. There was still much work to be done— endless stacks of reports to review and approve before he could finalize his men’s reassignments and discharge orders. It turned out that even winning the war could not put an end to all the paperwork.

He drummed his fingers on the table and scanned the busy roof-top cafe, looking any sign of his date. The glass-domed dining room was lush with exotic greenery, which provided a surprising amount of privacy to its patrons while giving the space a vibrant tropical feel, despite the cafe’s location high in Coruscant’s skyline. 

“So what are you looking for, Commander Wolffe?” the matchmaker, Sander Loris, had asked him when they met in the the RTL offices. 

Wolffe didn’t have an answer for Sander then, and he still wasn’t sure now. 

He had visited RTL Matchmaking in an apparent moment of weakness, after meeting his brothers for drinks. Cody and Rex were both enamored and gushing about their new partners, and even kriffing Fox couldn’t stop smiling and messaging his partner the whole night. Wolffe had left that night, wondering what if.

And so here he was, several weeks later, sitting in possibly the nicest space he’d ever set foot in, waiting for a mystery date who was running late. He shifted in his seat, tugging awkwardly at his new civilian clothes. It still felt weird to wear civvies, but Cody had insisted that Wolffe wear something appropriately casual to make the right impression, instead of his officer’s uniform like Wolffe had planned. 

Not that it mattered, because she still wasn’t here. 

He glanced around the room again before looking out the window. The busy afternoon skylane traffic was nearly obscured by the decorative vegetation lining the windows, and he absently wondered where all those people were going and how they spent all their free civilian time.

“Commander Wolffe?” A light voice at his side snapped his attention back into the room. 

All lingering reservations Wolffe held about this date evaporated quickly when he saw you standing near the table, smiling hopefully at him as you awaited his response. Your smile ran him through instantly, just as your voice had cut through the soft murmur of the cafe. 

Wolffe shot up from his seat a bit too suddenly and stood straight and at attention, as if summoned by his General. “Ma’am,” he said stiffly and just barely managed to stop himself from saluting you. Instead, he held out his hand to you in a casual greeting.

You smiled and chuckled as you took his hand and insisted he call you by your first name. 

Wolffe repeated your name, and it did not escape his notice how warm and soft your hand was, and how neatly it fit into his. 

“Please, call me Wolffe,” he added with what he hoped was a charming smile as he released your hand, but his voice still felt stiff in his own ears.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Wolffe. And I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. This is really not how I wanted to start things, but an unfortunate emergency at work delayed me,” you winced apologetically as you sat across from him. “Even when I’m done with work, it never seems to be done with me.”

You laughed nervously and he couldn’t help but smile at the endearing sound. “Ah, yes. I’m all to familiar with that feeling.” 

You visibly relaxed at his words and flashed a smile even more brilliant than the last. “Well, even so, I’m glad you didn’t bail on me.”

“Oh it takes more than that to scare me off,” Wolffe replied quickly, holding your gaze as a crooked smile curved the corner of his mouth.

You looked away first, with a bashful little smile, and diverted your focus to the menu. 

Oh, that one…that was his favorite smile so far. He made it his goal for the evening to get you to give him as many of those as could get…

[mementoboni]

[part 1/4] DIR EN GREY WOWOW Interview & Document (2020)

“Of course, I have to face the other four members. I'm carrying their lives and my life is being carried by them as well. I did it with that determination.” — Kaoru

Notes before reading:

The whole interview is divided into 8 topics, and the translation is divided into 4 parts. This is the first part, which includes the previous 2 topics. The details of all topics and time markers are 👉 here.

I have added Chinese subtitles for this video in 2021. The whole interview was very meaningful, and I hope that with the English translation, more people can understand what they're talking about.

The five members were interviewed separately and then edited into a video, so the words spoken by each of them are not necessarily coherent.

Repost and share are welcome.🙌 I translated it all by my ears, so please feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts.☺️

--- --- ---

01. Band Formation ~ Debut

►The Formation of DIR EN GREY

Shinya: All four of us were in the same band except for Toshiya on bass. Then the band broke up and we had to find a new member again. Kyo: Each of us all wanted to be in a band. So after discussion, we decided to get rid of one person and get the four of us together. (*Note: After La:Sadie's disbanded, the four of them decided to form a new band in addition to KISAKI.) Die: We were friends with Toshiya at that time, so we thought about finding all the members and forming a band with him. Toshiya: At that time, their band was gaining momentum. I would like to play with the four of them if it's possible and I happened to be invited. That's what happened.

►Origin of the Band Name

Kaoru: At that time, there was a band that communicated with us very closely. The band had a song called DIR EN GREY*, and that's where our band got its name. I always thought it was a good name, so I suggested it as the name of our band. (*Note: It refers to a song called "Dir en Gray" by the band "LAREINE" (with Kamijo as vocalist), which was formed in 1994.) Kyo: There were two alternative names at that time, the other one was proposed by me, but the final vote was 3:2 so I lost. (laughs)  After I lost, the band name became DIR EN GREY. (*Note: Another name is "如月" (きさらぎ, kisaragi ) → Dir en grey turns 25 today! )

►Looking Back at the time of Debut

Shinya: The three debut singles were produced by YOSHIKI-san. He also played the piano for our song after debut, I had no regrets at that time even if I died, that's how I felt. Kaoru: At that time, we had only recorded once or twice in a decent studio, and we had also recorded in places like homes.  YOSHIKI-san took us straight to a professional recording studio and said, "Let's make the debut single!" without giving us time to think.

. . .

02. Expression

►Awareness in the Creative Process

Die: After all, the band has been around for more than 20 years, therefore, we have to create something more exciting. It's not that I have to do anything, but I try to experiment with all kinds of things. So there are times when we can't be categorized as anything but DIR EN GREY. Shinya: While it is changing over time, now I just want to make songs that I feel good about. Toshiya: Every recording has to add the sound that you think is good, and you must like the songs you create, or you must love them. Kaoru: The overall sense of balance and the feeling that the listener will have, and of course there are many other things.  I would listen to the song several times to feel it, and repeat it over and over again. I can remember it by listening to it over and over again. After listening to it a few times, I will pay attention to interesting pieces, new discoveries, and so on, while I'm composing. Kyo: Most people have a fixed style after 20 years, like "This is the way this person is," but I'm not like that. Of course it's cool to stick to your own unique style, although I can do that and feel like I can keep myself. Kyo: I don't like to make people think that "This is how I am in the end" or something like that, it's not my style. I want to show the changes in each moment directly. When I can't express the music naturally, I may stop, and when I can't create freely, I will stop.

►Things want to Convey through Music

Toshiya: What I/we want to convey is simply "pain (痛み)". Living is a hard thing, and being able to create that power of anger, I think that's our music. Kyo: I am very bad at expressing beautiful things, or is that not for me?  It's... it's irritating.  Maybe it's because I often feel that there is nothing good in the world, and I don't like things that look like fabrications. Shinya: Those are supposed to be in the lyrics, and I don't particularly want to express the pain with the drums. 🤣🤣 Kaoru: I think that varies from person to person, and there is no right answer. For me, I also have a part of myself that I want to convey, so maybe I'm thinking about that while I'm creating.  If I were to say that we all share the same idea, it would be that we can express what we think without hiding it. Die: Being able to feel pain means you are alive, and hope is born from that. The first thing I/we want to convey is "to be alive". (*Screen caption: Feeling pain = Being alive)

►The Motivation for Expression

Kyo: If there is something that I want to convey which will be the motivation, I am not.  I'm just living. Toshiya: It should be the anger and sadness in life, just the two.  If I can express both, I feel I can be saved. Shinya: There will be people who come to see the LIVE, and those fans are my motivation. Kaoru: I think it's because I don't want to admit defeat. I don't want to admit defeat, it should be more like I don't like to admit defeat. I am a weak person, I will want to run away when things happen, and will want to give up when I can't do it. But on this point I still do not want to give in to defeat, I want to do it well. Kaoru: Of course, I have to face the other four members. I'm carrying their lives and my life is being carried by them as well. I did it with that determination. (*Oh, leader sama😳) Die: I think it's LIVE. LIVE is the most direct place to convey ideas and resonate with people. I am moving forward with LIVE as my goal.

(To be continued...)

--- --- ---

part 2. & part 3. & part4.

topics & time marks

中文翻譯 (My Blogger) part 1. & part 2. & part 3.

[t00tsmcgee]

just thinking about that one post about rook feeling empty as a character and not part of the found family that is actually very much in this game, because its still on my mind.

I do agree with it when you take it solely in context of the game, but at the same time it gives me a lot of freedom to just create my own narrative around it, which is what i love to do as a fanfic writer, it's giving me a great canvas to paint on.

But i tend to write my rook as the 8th companion rather than 'Rook' as they are in game because of this same exact problem. I have a whole backstory for my Rook character and previous relationships with faction npcs to build on, but nothing like that is explored in game

The game gives you a preset backstory and a rough characterization of a young hero who wants to save the world, but other than that there really is very little there, no regrets, no struggle, no feelings on what is happening, outside of those group chats about Solas' memories and even that is very little. (IE expressing you're distraught about the implications of your discoveries for your chosen faith)

Small example of lack of attention to detail for me since I was a shadow dragon, was Neve telling me to call Viper Ashur in private. Wouldn't a shadow dragon already know that? Why not have Rook refer to Ashur as such on the first meeting? Its a small detail but it establishes that yes, Rook knows this person already, and has for several years potentially.

Also (and this is true for all faction npcs) it feels weird to not have people who knew me years before this address me by name but instead call me 'Rook'. Just using the faction specific surname would've made a big difference there.

There's a ton of other things like it where the background you choose gives a little flavour, but it's so surface level it might as well not be there.