#making the kids recount the experience

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

media literacy is when you declare entire collections of film and tv shows as lacking any depth solely on the basis of its primary audience being kids. clearly

[seonghwaddict]

save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

[aperrywilliams]

That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.

Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.

Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)

Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.

A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!

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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

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A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

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

You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

------------------ 

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[psychoticallytrans]

There's this idea, fairly common in society, that mental illness is for teens and up. Children are happy little creatures, generally, right? Sometimes they're abused and the trauma can make them mentally ill, but that's not common.

There are two fundamental problems with this attitude. One, it's incorrect to assume that trauma is the only reason a young kid can be mentally ill. Two, trauma is more common than people think. I'll be covering the first problem in this post through the lens of my particular experience.

Where I live, you can be diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 18 years old. You cannot be diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a minor. This poses a problem because my age of onset was in first grade, roughly six years old. Because of the fact that I was very young and new to the world, this was also the age of my first suicide attempt. Thinking I wouldn't be able to pass a spelling test genuinely felt like something worth trying to die over. So, I ate some hemlock, since I'd read about Socrates being killed with it. Luckily, I ate western hemlock, an unrelated species, and just felt kind of sick.

I'm not recounting that for fun or pity. I'm recounting it because children with mental illness are in genuine danger because they have little to no experience with managing their emotions, have little to no concept of the idea that their life can change and improve, and are dismissed by adults. I told a teacher that the test made me want to die, though not that I'd attempted to, and it was brushed off as little kid hyperbole. If I had used a method that was effective rather than one I thought would be, I would have been dead at six years old.

I would not receive medication that worked even a bit for another two years. I would not receive treatment for bipolar disorder specifically for ten years, and that required my PCP fudging the reason for the medication because she was afraid I would die if she didn't, and diagnosis was still two years off at minimum. I received a formal diagnosis at age 19, thirteen years after onset.

But surely that's uncommon, right? This story is a huge edge case, right? I actually have no idea, because age of onset and age of diagnosis are massively conflated for most disabilities. Policies like the one in my area that restricted bipolar diagnoses by age can artificially raise the age of "onset", in my case by thirteen years. The general idea that children are somehow immune to mental illness can also delay diagnosis by several years, perpetuating the idea that young children can't be mentally ill. The data on when people start experiencing mental illness is inherently skewed upwards, and I frankly don't have a good estimate on how bad that skew is. If anyone does have that data, please chime in.

Listen to children. If they're saying they're sad all the time, that they don't care about anything, that they don't see a future for themselves, those are signs of depressive symptoms. If they say that tests make them feel sick, that they can't do anything because they're scared, that they can't breathe and freeze up, those are signs of anxious symptoms. Many children talk about imaginary things, and that's just fine, but slip in a question or two about them to make sure that the kid is just playing, and not experiencing psychosis.

Children are new to the world and vulnerable, and they don't know what's normal and what isn't. They need people who are more experienced watching out for problems they might be having, and listening when they talk about having problems. If you can, try to be the person who perceives them, and tells them that things can be better.

[fatkish]

Hiii Could you do a fluff head cannon with all the mha pro heroes (aizawa,present mic,all might,mirko, And midnight) like little moments with child reader

Pro Heroes x Child Reader:

(Platonic) Fluff HC’s

Aizawa:

Snuggles with the reader all the time

Probably bought a matching sleeping bag for the reader

Has secretly put up their drawings in his office at school

Lets the reader sleep with him when they can’t sleep or have a nightmare

Will go through the house and make sure no villains or monsters are hiding before bedtime

Reads story books at bedtime or tells the reader stories about uncle Mic or his students

Would definitely have pajama parties

Would help the reader build blanket and pillow forts in the living room and sleeps in them

Helps the reader as best he can with their homework

Hizashi:

Most definitely has dance parties or plays music videos games

Bought the reader one of the children’s karaoke machines and cheers the reader on now matter how bad their singing is

Loves playing hide and seek with the reader

If the kid likes to dress up whenever they play then he’ll definitely help and tries to make the reader look like a mini him

Definitely bought the reader instruments like a toy keyboard or drums to let them explore music and see if they like it

Makes up the weirdest and silly stories for the reader’s bedtime

Helps the reader with their homework by making a game of it or making it entertaining

Has pictures and drawings from the reader all over his desk and office

All might:

Dad jokes 100%. Will tell all kinds of them no matter how lame or stupid they are

Plays pretend and has the reader be the hero who defeats the evil tickle monster

Tries to cook food with the reader like baking cookies or making their own homemade pizza. Has had to try to keep the reader from eating all the ingredients when they were younger

Carries the reader on his shoulders and will toss them in the air

Definitely tries to introduce foreign foods to the reader such as classic American dishes like an American hotdog or apple pie

Tells the reader stories of his hero days when he was younger or his experiences overseas as bedtime stories

Helps the reader understand their homework and shows them how to do it before letting them try if they’re struggling

Let’s the reader wear his shirts since they’re so big on reader and he thinks it’s cute

Proudly shows pictures and the reader’s drawings to his coworkers

Mirko:

Definitely cheers on the reader whenever they play Heroes and villains

Will definitely give actual advice on how to fight a villain

Has morning yoga sessions with the reader to help them increase their flexibility

Would most likely play wrestle with the child

Reader has a bunch or Mirko merch and has all the limited edition items thanks to Mirko

Recounts stories of the villains she fought that day as bedtime stories or makes some up

Tries to help the reader with their homework and will hire a tutor or ask another pro to help them if possible

Definitely has the reader’s drawings in her office and proudly displays them for all to see

Probably has a trampoline and teaches the reader how to do cool jumps

Midnight:

Loves going shopping for clothes with reader

Will definitely play heroes and villains with the child and be the villain

Would also pretend to be a civilian in need of saving

Helps reader design their ‘hero’ costume

If the child can’t sleep then she’ll use her quirk to help them sleep

Will read story books to the reader and tuck them in at bedtime

Helps the reader with their homework by referencing the problems to things they already know or that they like, for example: with math, Midnight will use visual references like pieces of candy to help the reader understand addition and subtraction

Has bought so many stuffed animals for the reader, their room is basically filled with them

[broh3m3]

'#missing the old men' are there more old men? Can you tell us about the old men? 🥺👉👈

Behold, more old men! Not the most confident with getting Kalims face the way I want it to look (bear with me, most of these sketches are from earlier this year) but he exists! It's very important to me that he lives a long life in at least one timeline

Small notes on their faces/wrinkles: -Jamil has more wrinkles around his forehead/eyebrows with a sharper cheek bone. -Kalim's eyebrows have a feathered effect where it tapers outwards, and he's got a more prominent crows feet.

like so! I'm hoping to flesh them out more as I study older features, but these are the main points for now

Misc notes under the cut 🐍🦦

-He puts up a stoic face so that others won't bother him, but the kids of Silk City regard Jamil as an eccentric figure with lots of fun stories to tell about his travels. He's well loved.

-Kalim uses a cane to walk and is the frailer of the two. He's a little more subdued with age and his memory is poor, but he's always able to recount his memories of NRC, friends and Jamil with a bright smile and waay too many side plots. Jamil still holds himself with a strong gait and would rather keel over than be assisted, but he's got the worse eyesight (side effect of his signature spell) and experiences minor body aches in his arm/hands. -I think this kind of just goes on par with the regular scarabia/jamikali antics but they're casual with their skin ship, neither really notices unless it's called out. You'll often find one supporting the other with a hand by the waist while they walk.

-Though he's chided for it, Kalim makes it a routine to look after Jamil's hands every morning (it's important!) On the opposite, Jamil is the one that encourages Kalim to walk with him, even if it's only for short periods. In their later years, carpet is often accompanying them to help out when it can.

-When his strength begins to decline and he's bedridden, Kalim resorts to using his water magic to communicate. Jamil doesn't like it, but it's more of what it entails rather than the gesture. He talks more to fill the silence, sometimes responding back with his own magic. -Kalim's the first to go. Depending on how his life panned out, Jamil either stays in Silk City for the remainder of his days (if he came back to retire) or leaves to go on one final adventure, taking carpet with him (if he stayed with Kalim.)

-The detail of him wearing Kalim's feather accessory was inspired from a fic collection ! I'm happy it was noticed

[jaggedamethyst]

disappearing act (jayce talis x f!reader)

2.7k words

content/warnings: jayce is in a strained relationship as a result of his work...and his sudden disappearance(s).

18+ minors dni; smut, rough sex, angst (my specialty), unprotected p in v, jayvik sprinkles, strained relationship, argument + lack of communication as a result, jayce being a meanie/dedicated scientist

notes: i feel bad that there's no addition to golden boy at the moment, so here's something else for the jayce girlies that i have been thinking about. once again, incredibly sad...but you love it.

full masterlist linked here

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The relationship you had with Jayce was one of the few things you could rely on. With his work, Jayce Talis may be considered brash—stubborn even. With you, though, he was the epitome of understanding. He watched you often, a careful eye on you. Relying so heavily on the products of scientific experiments, he seldom acted in a way that was proven to yield negative results. That was until he let the work consume him. 

You were always supportive, he’d said as much. You were there to offer an ear, reassurance, and love to the man who needed it so much. He often recounted the story of his mother being saved by magic, a new detail finding its way into the narrative every time. It was then that you understood Jayce’s need to expose the world to this technology. To afford people the opportunity he was so graciously given—to protect people they love. 

Tensions were rising in Piltover and Zaun. You weren’t entirely sure what was happening; Jayce told you as much as he felt was necessary. As a member of the council, there was so much to take on. You could see the stress. In the last few weeks he’d become distant, reluctant to even make eye contact with you. At the time you’d usually meet one another, he avoided you. So much was going wrong, yet you couldn’t find the right words. There seemed to be nothing you could say to comfort him. A feeling of failure sat within you, almost overwhelming the love you had for him. You started to question the man you’d often taken at face value. He wasn’t himself, no, he was something else entirely. 

You sat alone, jotting down notes. There was nothing of particular interest there—but you had to keep busy these days. You perked up at the sound of Jayce entering the room, your shoulders immediately slumping at the prospect of knowing him so well that you knew it was him without a look back. 

His voice broke the silence, “Hi.” 

That was all you really got from him, greetings in passing. This time, it was to pick up a tool he’d left. You sighed, waving a hand at him, knowing that if it was up to him he wouldn’t see you at all today. 

He spoke again, “Thanks.” He showed a specific sized wrench that he loved. You weren’t entirely sure how it got here, but you knew the gratitude he showed was true. If he took nothing else seriously at the moment, he’d always been nose-first into his work. His venture toward progress. 

You nodded at his thanks to you, resuming your work. 

He left his back to you, “I’m working with Heimerdinger again.” 

This surprised you. Both the mention of his former mentor as well as the continued conversation. “Really?” You spun around in your chair, back to your desk. 

He turned to face you, “He has a new protégée, this kid. I’m sure I’ve seen him before…around…but he needs help.” 

“So you’re helping him,” you smiled. It was earnest. There was a warmth there, a passing thought that he might return to himself—a man motivated by care. 

He nodded, “So what’s occupying your time? More of that meaningless writing you do?” He chuckled and motioned toward your open book. 

You twisted the corner of your lips, stunned by the way his words pierced you. For no reason, you might add. A dry chuckle left your throat, echoing his. You deliberately responded lowly, looking toward the floor, “Wouldn’t have to do meaningless writing if my boyfriend had actually been around for once.” 

It was his turn to curl his lip in irritation, “You know what I’m doing is important-“

“And yet there’s nothing to show for it.” 

“That is not fair.” He stepped further into the room, “It takes years to replicate and master the technology I’m working on. Viktor and I have been at this for years, surely you understand that getting it right takes precedent.” 

You nodded, understanding now. “Precedent over your relationship, got it.” You turned and slammed your book shut. His footsteps approached you and you stood in return, meeting his surprisingly close glare at you. 

“You know thats not what I meant-“ 

“Isn’t it, though?” 

“No, its just that…” 

“Just what?” 

He sighed, no words finding him. He couldn’t really explain what it was, exactly. Part of him felt as if you were right—that maybe he did think much less of you than he thought. That perhaps he’d become so accustomed to the havoc, the time with his partner, and the inconsistency of research. He searched his brain, landing on the fact that he was addicted to the high science bought to him. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about you. It was simply that like you said, he wasnt around. 

“Maybe you should go.”

His mouth was agape, realizing he failed to answer. He tried to call out to you, your name leaving his lips in a plea. You just needed time. His brows drooped, a defeated look over his body. He backed away, before turning towards the door. He stopped at the door frame, grasping it, the closest he’d been to latching onto you. “I’m sorry.” Then, he rounded the corner and was gone. 

A few months passed. You didnt expect that when Jayce left, he’d seemingly disappear into thin air. When you found out that another boy, Ekko, along with Heimerdinger were also gone—you connected the dots. You weren’t sure what to do, if there was anything to be done. You weren’t dumb, but to Jayce or Viktor’s level of intelligence…you’d found yourself feeling inadequate. It was just your luck, too, that the one person who could help you was nowhere to be found. His partner, one you could tell Jayce loved so much—had vanished. 

There were a few times where you examined their work area. You searched for anything to make sense of the loss. There was nothing. Like clockwork, you would end your search in tears, frantically clawing at the leftover notes and tools. When you couldn’t sleep, you would sneak into Jayce’s bed. The scent of him enveloped you. The tears would come, again, soaking his pillows. You’d later grown disgusted with yourself—the lack of composure. Your sensitivity only removed Jayce further from you; his presence no longer lingered. The smell of him had dissipated. You were beyond devastated. The yearn to have the entirety of the world to open up and swallow you whole was immense. 

You resumed your meaningless writing. In the time Jayce had been gone, you went through two entire notebooks. You cried into a lot of the pages, leaving them impossible to write on. In others you poured out every emotion you felt—chronicling every detail. 

He often found you in your dreams. Few times, you’d offer your mind the comfort of loving him again. Most times, however, you would torture yourself with a recounting of your last conversation. You would try to change what you said, how little you did…but the outcome was always the same. He would always leave you. 

The sound of his familiar footsteps haunted you. Someone would approach you, the rhythm slightly off, but enough to get your hopes up every time. Tonight had been the same, people passing, none being the one you wanted the most. You laid in bed, gaze to the ceiling. You didn’t really have much on your mind, outside of Jayce Talis—again. 

Footsteps approached, again, not him. These were heavier, irregular. It sounded as if one of them dragged. Your face twisted, a disdain filling you. It was enough. You turned, angling your back towards the door and the sound of the unfamiliar footsteps. 

You arched a brow, hearing your door open and close. You angled your neck, not caring who it was but needing the time to yourself. “Whoever that is, please…go away.” 

There was a pause, then a voice. “Still stubborn.”

Your breath hitched, your body turning to confirm whether or not you’d actually well and truly lost your mind. It couldn’t be, not after all this time. 

“Jayce.” It wasn’t a question, as much as you thought it would be. It was true, he was there—albeit entirely different. His hair had grown longer, easily passing his ears. The twinkle in his eye was completely gone. His facial hair had grown. The man that you knew wasn’t here, this was the residual shell—a combination of leftover pieces of himself that had been discarded. 

You crawled off of the bed, scrambling to him. You observed him briefly, taking in the details of him, before jumping into a hug. The scent you loved so much, that comfort that long left you, rested beneath a swell of ash and grime. He reluctantly raised his hands. You waited for the feeling of him embracing you back, but it didn’t come. You felt his palms instead, grasping your face. His eyes peered into yours, a hand dropping so that only one held you now. As you leaned into his single hand on you, he maneuvered his thumb. He brushed over your lips briefly. His grip then fell just underneath your chin. He let his thumb squeeze into you, pinching your cheeks slightly before nudging your face. 

He wasn’t the same. You didn’t care. He moved toward you, causing you to lean into your bed. When the back of your legs hit the mattress, you sat down slowly. You looked up at him, not needing to exchange words with him. It had been too long.

All reason left you; you were sure that there was never any in this Jayce’s mind. You quickly reached for his pants, undoing the button and zipper as he simultaneously maneuvered for yours. You paused, only resuming when you were completely bare on the bottom. You could see him, pleading to be released from the confines of his pants. You reached at his waist, pulling his pants and underwear down. You were startled when they didn’t go down fully. Your gaze dropped, noticing the brace on his leg. The single pant leg had caught the metal. He huffed, the cold air finally sweeping against him. The sensation was enough to make him hiss—the slight drip of precum forming on him. 

He leaned you into the bed, circling your entrance immediately. There wasn’t time for prep, you two had already lost so much time together. He thought of you every day. At one point, he’d found a rock, etching what he struggled to remember of your face into the wall. Before he could think to eat, before he could save himself—he thought of you.

You deserved more than this. What he was about to do. But as he looked back at you and saw the pleading in your eyes, he knew you needed this. You needed him. 

Without further thought, he plunged into you. You gasped at the resistance—your insides tighter than normal. It burned, Jayce pushing all of him completely into you. The pain was nothing compared to the mental abuse you had endured. This pain was worth it, you reasoned. At least, now, the pain was inflicted by Jayce—here.

He started his pace into you. Tears collected in your eyes, from both the overwhelming emotion and the way his hips snapped into you. He yanked you back towards him, a slapping resonating through the room. His eyes closed, brows furrowed. You noticed this, reaching to rub his arm that rested on your waist. His eyes opened immediately, looking at your hand on him. The gesture more than he deserved. He pulled out of you then, reaching to pump his hand up and down himself. 

He spoke, finally, “Flip.” 

You did so without question. Your chest found the bed, head leaning to the side. The bed was a bit taller than you and it left you on your toes. You fought to stabilize yourself—wanting to do whatever it was that he needed. He spread your legs, ramming into you without warning. The force of him pushing into you had you whining. A yelp escaped you with every thrust, the feeling of him relieving a desire that had built up in you since he left. Your feet eventually lifted from the floor completely, your arms gripping into the blankets. Jayce had the entire bed and its posts rocking. The squeaking, groaning, and slapping was entirely disgusting and quite reflective of your relationship now. The ordeal was desperate, pulling at each other until you fell apart. 

You circled your hips into the firmness of the mattress. Your clit found the friction in exactly the right way. Behind you, Jayce found your hips, gripping at your flesh like you’d disappear if he didn’t. It wasn’t long before you came, face down ass up onto Jayce. You felt a pool of wetness escaping you, dripping beneath you. He sighed at the extra lubrication, speeding up even more. He worked you through his own release, filling you to the brim.

He collapsed onto your back. The feeling of his breath on your neck, the stubble on his jaw, and hair fraying onto your ear was entirely new. You remained motionless, afraid for the moment to end. It did, though, Jayce pulling out of you. He rubbed your ass briefly, before pulling his pants up and straightening himself. You pulled yourself fully onto the bed, grabbing your underwear and a throw blanket to lay over your bottom half of your body. 

An expectant look was on your face. You dreamed of the day he would come back—return to you. You hadn’t expected it to be so wordless. You watched the man inch his way towards his hammer. It looked different than you remembered, flurries of color attached to it. It was somewhat eroded, too. You frowned at that. There was a clear resemblance here, the disfigurement an emulation of the relationship between you being completely different than when you first met. 

“What happened to you?” 

He leaned down now, fatigue catching up to him. “That thing I was working on-“ 

“With Heimerdinger…and…Ekko-“ 

“Yes.” He paused, a choked sob bursting from him immediately. “I-I was lost. Lost you.” 

You tried to stand, move to him, but he raised a hand to stop you. The act was a warning, like he didn’t need you near him. As if he didn’t want you to get hurt. It made you grasp the blanket more firmly. 

He continued, “I have to finish this.” 

The thought crossed your mind. To ask him what it was he had to do besides be with you was on the edge of your tongue. Question why, you thought. Not even a second later you realized that despite his appearance, he wasn’t so different, really. Jayce was always on a mission. He chased a feeling you could never replicate for him. 

So you didn’t let the question linger between you. “Just come back to me.” 

He stood, glancing at his wrist. You noticed the shine of blue there, interlocking with his very being. He nodded, conviction in his words. “I will. I can’t fail…not at this.” 

With a hobble in his step, he moved toward the exit. 

You didnt call out to him. He didn’t turn around for a second glance. With every day that passed, you wished so bad that one of you had. You weren’t entirely sure if what Jayce did—disappearing again, was considered a failure. But you knew the man. It was for a reason. 

It took you a while to come to terms with what happened. You couldn’t bring yourself to visit the site for days. As the Sun rose one morning, yet another night of no rest on you…you slipped out of the bed. There was determination in your walk. You made the trek out to where the destruction was. There was machinery you’d never seen strewn all over the trail. You grimaced, following the natural line of sight. You saw it, then, Jayce’s hammer. You moved with determination. As you approached, you immediately collapsed beside it. There was nothing left of him. He was gone. Entirely this time.

You reached for the handle of the man’s creation, cradling it as if it were him. Your lips wobbled, a cry threatening to fall from you. You gasped for air. “No…” You shook your head, whispering, “Jayce…” 

[heritageposts]

[...] More specifically, the cycle of violence in The Last of Us Part II appears to be largely modeled after the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I suspect that some players, if they consciously clock the parallels at all, will think The Last of Us Part II is taking a balanced and fair perspective on that conflict, humanizing and exposing flaws in both sides of its in-game analogues. But as someone who grew up in Israel, I recognized a familiar, firmly Israeli way of seeing and explaining the conflict which tries to appear evenhanded and even enlightened, but in practice marginalizes Palestinian experience in a manner that perpetuates a horrific status quo. The game's co-director and co-writer Neil Druckmann, an Israeli who was born and raised in the [occupied] West Bank before his family moved to the U.S., told the Washington Post that the game's themes of revenge can be traced back to the 2000 killing of two Israeli soldiers by a mob in Ramallah. Some of the gruesome details of the incident were captured on video, which Druckmann viewed. In his interview, he recounted the anger and desire for vengeance he felt when he saw the video—and how he later reconsidered and regretted those impulses, saying they made him feel “gross and guilty.” But it gave him the kernel of a story. “I landed on this emotional idea of, can we, over the course of the game, make you feel this intense hate that is universal in the same way that unconditional love is universal?” Druckmann told the Post. “This hate that people feel has the same kind of universality. You hate someone so much that you want them to suffer in the way they’ve made someone you love suffer.” Druckmann drew parallels between The Last of Us and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict again on the official The Last of Us podcast. When discussing the first time Joel kills another man to protect his daughter and the extraordinary measures people will take to protect the ones they love, Druckmann said he follows "a lot of Israeli politics," and compared the incident to Israel's release of hundreds of Palestinians prisoners in exchange for the captured Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit in 2011. He said that his father thought that the exchange was overall bad for Israel, but that his father would release every prisoner in every prison to free his own son. "That's what this story is about, do the ends justify the means, and it's so much about perspective. If it was to save a strange kid maybe Joel would have made a very different decision, but when it was his tribe, his daughter, there was no question about what he was going to do," Druckmann said.

And continuing, on the security structures featured in the The Last of Us Part II:

Besides the familiar zombie fiction aesthetics of an overgrown and decomposing metropolis, The Last of Us Part II's main setting of Seattle is visually and functionally defined by a series of checkpoints, security walls, and barriers. There are many ways to build and depict structures that separate and keep people out. Just Google "U.S.-Mexico border wall" to see the variety of structures on the southern border of the United States alone. The Last of Us Part II's Seattle doesn't look like any of these. Instead, it looks almost exactly like the tall, precast concrete barriers and watch towers Israel started building through the West Bank in 2000.

Illustrations, from the article:

The first barrier Ellie and Dina encounter when arriving in Seattle / West Bank barrier.

. . . article continues on Vice (July 15 2020)

Backup -> archive.today link /archive.org link

[tinylilacbun]

Rafe bringing toddler reader to see Santa and she’s so deathly afraid of Santa that she’s screaming crying and rafe has to stand behind the camera with her Lovie trying to get her to smile but when that doesn’t work he has to get in the photo with her and he’s so unhappy about it but she relaxes

Traumatic Picture

Pairing: brother!rafe cameron x toddler!sister!reader

Warnings: reader is scared of santa, rafe being grumpy

⋆꙳•❅*🎄*❆•꙳⋆

The Camerons are currently decorating the Christmas tree, well mostly Sarah, Wheezie, and you while the others are sitting on the couch, Ward and Rose drinking a glass of wine, and Rafe is occupied on his phone.

He only sits here because his father used the bond Rafe has with you and sent you to ask him to join you all, knowing he won't say no to you.

As he lifts his gaze from his phone he sees how you're standing on your tiptoes, holding the star in your hand as you probably try to set it on top, which is impossible given how short you are.

With a sigh, he pushes himself up and walks over to you, reaching down under your armpits to hold you up.

You squeal and stick the star on top of the tree, clapping your hands excitedly and giggling when the others clap as well.

Rafe sets you back down on the ground, ruffling your hair before he gets back onto the couch, hearing his father's conversation with Rose.

"The mall closes next week until new year and we haven't gotten the chance to take Y/n for a picture with Santa, and we're busy the next days too." Rose sighs, taking a sip of her wine.

"What about Sarah?" Ward suggests but Sarah instantly cuts in, shaking her head.

"Hell no, I went with her last year and it was horror, she wouldn't stop crying while taking that picture." Sarah recounts last year's experience.

It is tradition that every Cameron kid gets at least one picture with Santa but somehow you're so scared of him that Sarah is sure you got a trauma from last year, and the picture never happened so hopefully this time it's gonna end differently.

Suddenly everyone looks at Rafe and he groans, throwing his head back.

That's how he finds himself waiting in line for a picture with Santa at the bustling mall, people in holiday rush to get presents that are on sale.

He's holding you firmly on his hip, scowling at everyone who looks at you both too long for his liking, rubbing your back with his free hand as you cling onto him and watch how children get their pictures, sucking on your pacifier furiously.

"A'ight, listen kid, we're gonna get this done quick, yeah? Just a picture and we're on our way home again. There's no reason to be scared." He tries to soothe you, bouncing you a little.

You nod your head, still unsure if you want to do this, the big man in red still giving you an uneasy feeling as you hear his deep laugh from where you're waiting.

Now it is your turn and you tense up when Rafe moves you to sit on Santa's lap, taking your pacifier out of your mouth as he pats your head, taking a few steps back.

You look up at the man with big eyes while he smiles down at you, his hand hovering behind your back in case you fall down. "Hello there, little one."

The tears instantly well up the second he talks to you in a deep voice, crying out loud. Santa stays in his role, the person in the costume already used to younger children being fussy or scared.

"Princess, look who I have here." Rafe tries to get your attention, standing beside the woman with the camera and holding your lovey above it.

Instead of calming you down it makes you sob even harder, making grabby hands for your brother, wanting him to save you from this scary situation.

"R-Rafey." You hiccup and the woman frowns, leaning closer to Rafe.

"Y'know, many kids feel safer when family members stand beside them." She tells him sweetly.

Rafe sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, and reluctantly goes to stand at Santa's side behind you, leaning down to kiss your head to calm you down. "I'm here now, yea? Think you can be a big girl and smile just for a moment?"

You immediately calm down the moment you feel his presence behind you, letting him wipe the tears from your cheeks and nod.

Still sniffling you manage to form a smile, Rafe standing there with his usual grim expression, there's no way in hell he will smile with all those people present, it's already a surprise that he gets in the picture.

Luckily the process is quickly over and Rafe scoops you back up in his arms, handing you back your Lovey and pacifier as he makes his way to where he pays the printed out picture.

After he carries you outside and to his truck he takes a look at the picture. "If you tell Topper or Kelce about this I'll never let you sleep in my bed again." Oh yes he would.

You're too emotionally exhausted to give any response, nuzzling your face into his neck, feeling him kiss your head in reassurance.

"Proud of you, kid." He murmurs, opening the backdoor of his truck and buckling you in your car seat.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr @rafenroostersgirl

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[alessandra-14]

Quiet sister, concerned brothers

Dean and Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Summery: Dean and Sam Winchester have a 15 year old half sister who often feels neglected and overlooked by her brothers. Her sadness and loneliness build up until she can no longer hide her feelings.

Trigger warning: way to much use of Y/N, emotional neglect

Word count: 1.5k words

A/N: I used a different perspective this time. Please please let me know which one you prefer so I know what to continue with! Thanks.

The creaky old bunker was silent, a rare occurrence given the nature of it's inhabitants. Y/N sat on her bed, the flickering light from a nearby lamp casting long shadows on the walls. She hugged her knees tight to her chest, feeling the weight of another day spend in the background.

Sam and Dean, her older brothers, had been on a hunt all day. She texted them but unsurprisingly received no answer from any of them. They returned the next day around noon with stories about demons and near-death experiences, hardly acknowledging her presence as they recounted their tiring adventures.

Y/N was used to this. As long as she can remember, she had been the quiet, shy girl who stayed in the shadows while her brothers were always the center of attention.

She loved them dearly, of course she did. They have raised her, they gave her a family. Something she never new before them. But the constant feeling of being forgotten gnawed at her heart. She knew they didn't mean to emotionally neglect her, it was just how things were. Sam and Dean are hunters and she is just…. there

….

A week later they were on the road again, driving to a small town in Nebraska where strange disappearances had been reported. Y/N joined them this time. She felt as if she is going to suffocate if she stayed in that bunker for any longer.

She sat in the back of the Impala with her head resting against the cold window. The low rumble of the engine was almost comforting, a familiar sound in her otherwise tumultuous life.

Dean glanced at her in the rear-view mirror, a frown creasing his forehead. "You okay back there kid?"

Y/N forced a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Sam turned around in his seat, giving her a concerned look. "You sure? You've been pretty quiet lately. More than usual. You barely talk to us." "Yeah I'm fine, just tired", she lied, hoping they would drop the subject. She didn't want to burden them with her feelings. They had enough to worry about.

Dean just shrugged and turned up the music, and Sam went back to his research. Both of them just believing her lie for now. None of them had the energy to deal with it at the moment.

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to push away the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her.

The hunt went relatively well. Sure it could have gone way better but it's not the worst one they've had so far. Turns out the disappearances were caused by a little groupe of vampires. Fortunately for them it was easy to track them down to an abandoned warehouse. The killing part was a bit more tricky though.

Y/N helped out a lot this time. She was quite proud of herself for that. Thought that Sam and Dean would be impressed but did they even acknowledge her hard work? absolutely not.

"You did good kid but you could definitely improve your skills with the machete and you also need to work more on your stamina you are way to slow." Those are the first words she hear from Dean as they walk back to the car. Of course it hurts. She tried so hard to make them acknowledge her skills but apparently all they see is her weakness or simply nothing at all.

Sam doesn't confirm Dean's criticism but he also doesn't defend his sister in any way. The walk back to the car is just silent and tense. A feeling Y/N is simply sick of.

It doesn't get any better in the car so all she does is put her headphones in to listen to music to drown her loud bad thoughts and her brother's voices.

....

The next time they went on a hunt didn't go differently. Y/N was allowed to join again. She even tried to show of her great skills against the witch they had to fight but once again it went mostly unnoticed by the two brothers. The only thing that stuck with them was how slow she moved and how much she apparently hesitated when shooting the witch.

She kept quiet for the whole ride back to the bunker. What was she supposed to say anyway.

Back at the bunker Dean is the first one to break the silence between the siblings. "Hey kiddo remind me to teach you how to use a gun properly. You suck a little at that" He said as he went to grab a beer. His words were meant in a playful way but for Y/N it's enough to set her off completely.

"Can't you just stop with that?!" Sam and Dean both turn to look at her with a confused frown. "Stop with what?" Dean asks bewildered.

"With t-this! I just can't listen to you constantly telling me that I am not good enough. Every time I do something good you find something bad to say. Both of you just completely ignored the fact that I killed the witch on the hunt today all that was important to you was to tell me I suck at shooting! And when you don't criticize everything I do, you just don't talk to me. I simply get ignored. That's not fair!"

Y/N stopped once she ran out of breath but she was not anywhere near done letting everything out

"Y/N what-" Sam immediately gets interrupted by his sister. "No! I'm done. I'm done with hunting. I am done doing anything in my power to make you acknowledge my hard work for nothing and I am done with seeking your validation and attention at all times!"

None of the brothers get a chance to say anything because the second the girl is done she storms off to her room. Not that they knew what to say anyway.

The silence that follows is a tense one. Both brothers are at loss for words. Her speech was something none of them expected to hear. "Should we go check up on her? That was pretty intense"

But Sam shakes his head at Dean's suggestion. "No, we should let her cool off for a bit. I'll check up on her later"

....

Dean can't help but think about every interaction he had with his sister after every hunt and he unfortunately has to admit to himself that what Y/N said was true. The guilt is more than visible on his face it seems as if he is drowning in it. Sam isn't feeling any better. He is trying his best to no stand up and rush into his sisters bedroom and apologize for everything he and his brother said to her to make her feel as if she was not good enough.

He is holding that urge back fairly well but the moment he heard loud crying from her room he decides he is done with waiting and giving her space. He just needs to see if she is alright and fix this.

He walks up towards the door of your bedroom and softly knocks on it. "Hey...do you mind if we talk for a moment? I just want to make sure you're okay" Sam waits for a couple seconds which feels like minutes to him. But he receives no answer from the girl on the other side of the door. So he tries again but yet he gets no answer this time either.

Sam knows her silence is answer enough and turns around to leave. Not even two steps later he hears the door opening and his little sister's sad sniffles. He turns towards her and the mere sight of his sibling standing there with red rimmed eyes and a tired expression, was enough to break his heart into many pieces. Especially because he knows he is at fault.

"We can talk if you want" Her voice sounds raspy and her words come out quiet. A big indicator that she has been crying for a long time.

Sam simply nods and follows her into her room. Both sit down on the bed. Y/N looks towards her hands and keeps her gaze fixated on that.

"I wanted to apologize for making you feel as if you are not good enough. That was really not alright. You are great kid. You help us out so much. Doesn't matter if it's with research, or hunting or just helping around the bunker. Dean and I appreciate it. We appreciate you"

Y/N scoffs which slightly takes her older brother by surprise. "Well none of you know how to show that said appreciation"

Sam sighs since he knows she is right. "I know we don't but I really mean it when I say that we do care and do acknowledge your help and hard work. Even when we tell you about the thing you could improve. I also know how harsh Dean's words must have sounded to you and he feels bad. He really does."

The teenaged girl stays silent for a moment before finally nodding. "I forgive you. But I still want to take a little break from hunting. I'll help with research, sure but that's all. It's just too much right now" Sam agrees with you. "Sure that's fine. I understand, kid. And so will Dean"

Y/N looks up from her fidgeting fingers and turns her head towards her brother while wiping her tears. "Thank you Sam"

"Don't thank me, sweetheart. Please" Another silence follows after Sam's words. Yet this time it's not tense or heavy. It's comforting.

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

People have been asking for a Chang timeline post! Chang not only represents a turning point in the politics of the Tintin series, he also represents a sense of chronology in the otherwise floating timeline of the canon. While Tintin almost never discusses his past, Chang is a key part of his personal story in Tintin in Tibet.

I imagine him and Tintin being around the same age, with Chang being a few months younger.

Child - Chang had a happy early childhood being raised by his father and grandparents. He never mentions his mother when recounting his backstory to Tintin, so my main guesses are she either passed away or his parents separated before Chang was old enough to remember her. His father and grandparents taught him how to cook from an early age, and taught him the importance of solidarity and community, lessons Chang will hold onto the rest of his life.

Early canon - Chang is orphaned. This sudden loss causes him to act out. He turns to picking pockets and causing general mischief until an orphanage takes him in. Chang learns a lot of skills just to survive - he’s stealthy, he’s street smart and pretty decent at climbing. His experiences as a street kid taught him to be wary of authority.

The orphanage provides a brief period of stability until it is swept away in a flood. Until this point, Chang has felt pretty powerless in his life so just goes with the flow, so when Tintin drags him out of a river he doesn’t think twice about going along with him to break up a drug ring in The Blue Lotus. Going on this adventure with Tintin imbues him with a sense of empowerment and purpose he never felt before.

Student - The Wangs adopt him pretty quickly after he busts the drug ring with Tintin. It’s a sudden change he struggles to adapt to, with the Wangs being wealthy academics and Chang coming from a working class background there’s a significant culture clash.

Tintin leaves just as quickly and rarely contacts Chang, even as his journalism career takes off, leaving Chang lonely and heartbroken. Chang tries to send him letters but doesn’t know that Tintin moved out of Labrador Road.

Having missed out on education for a bit Chang struggles with school. He feels unworthy of the opportunities the Wangs try to provide him with and a part of him feels they only adopted him because they were dazzled by him taking down that drug ring, an achievement he increasingly feels he will never live up to again. He struggles with mental health issues, but finds solace in photography, his portfolio getting him a place at university despite his bad grades.

Young adult - In an attempt to try and help Chang’s mental wellbeing the Wangs decide to send Chang off to visit his uncles before he starts university, only for Chang to nearly perish in a plane crash in Tibet. Ironically, it’s this near death experience that shakes him out of it. Chang has a renewed enthusiasm for life, taking to travelling, dance and photography. Didi trains him in some basic martial arts so Chang can fend for himself.

Tintin makes an effort to stay in touch after having nearly lost Chang. The two repair their friendship, and Tintin has him stay at Marlinspike when Chang studies in Belgium for his second year of university. By the time Chang comes around, he’s had a growth spurt and has been working out - Chang is pretty haunted by his skeletal state from his near death experience in Tibet, so has been making an effort to recover.

After helping Tintin with a case, Tintin gets him a job at his paper as his photographer. Being Chinese he faces challenges in the workplace, and he uses his charm to be as personable as possible. Unlike Tintin, he frequents quite a few staff parties, and ends up pretty popular!

A couple of years later, Chang tries to unionise the staff at the paper. He and Tintin are outed as a couple and the two of them are fired.

Middle aged - After fighting fascists with the Marlinspike team during WW2 Chang and Tintin settle down in Belgium, with Chang scraping out some freelance photography work and a part time job at a portraiture studio. War in China causes them to lose contact with his adopted family. 

While Tintin grows more cynical, Chang accepts the chaos of the world and mellows out a lot. He tries to be a supportive partner and makes extra effort to stay in touch with his uncles and cousins.

Elderly - Chang uses his skills in photojournalism when he gets involved in political activism. He and Tintin are finally able to reunite with Didi and his children in the 70s.

[viceroywrites]

deja vu - part four

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader / ford x fem!reader

choose your own adventure / contains fluff and angst (w/ happy ending)

part three | part five (stan route) | part five (ford route)

tag list: @awitchersbard | @theilluminatidragonqueen | @jazzypop-op | @jonndoe | @chaimshelii | @starship606 | @swimmingrascalbatdragon | @stanfordsbaby | @gxstiess | @skrunkle11 | @valinbean | @funkyenby | @therealgoofygoober69 | @theblueraven | @adrian920155 | @im-kinda-bored | @miarabanana | @leo4242564 | @soupieoopieisloopie | @marvelous-maniac | @opossumclown | @m4x-3dw | @nothingbutcloud | @reivelmin | @grimometry | @walmartjim | @reiofsuns2001 | @bunni-teeth81 | @satorisgirl | @pen900 | @creat0r-cat | @lackingoriginalthoughts | @fries11 | @sunniskyies | @policedeer | @just-a-fellow-reader | @sadslasher13 | @kittenlover614 | @margibees | @lunnybunny12 | @the-hufflebird-girl | @sawendel l | @shamrockfish | @atseoks l | @luckybatbones | @ryuyukawa | @mekkori | @bigbodycity | @kawaii1369 | @333brat333 | @frizzothehobbit

Ford woke up the next morning with a slight pep in his step. Usually, he spent most evenings tossing and turning before finally being able to rest or waking up in the middle of the night unable to fall back asleep. However, last evening, he was able to sleep soundly. 

Perhaps it was the prospect of getting to take you anomaly hunting, getting to reshow you all his findings and re-experience the wonder in your eyes as you took it all in.

Perhaps it was the fact that he got to say good night to you after all these years, a tired smile across your face that looked truly radiant to him. 

Perhaps it was the polaroid that he clutched closed to his chest that evening, recounting the scent of your perfume that you wore that night as he buried himself into your neck, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

Whatever the reason, he felt well rested and raring to start the day. The scent of strongly brewed coffee wafted in the air as he made his way to the kitchen. He assumed Stanley must have gotten up before him and was excited to share how yesterday went with his brother.

As he got closer, he could hear his brother’s gravely voice speaking to someone. Ford was surprised by this considering the kids usually were asleep still, opting to sleep in during their summer break.

Maybe it was Soos or maybe his brother is just rambling to himself, Ford thinks as he finally rounds the corner.

The sight before him catches him off guard.

You and Stan sat close together at the kitchen table, shoulder to shoulder, two mugs filled with coffee already by your sides. Spread across the table was what looked like a map to a campground with red circles dotted across, the red marker laying at the edge of the table. You were dressed in pajamas but Ford immediately recognized Stan’s brown leather jacket on your shoulders that envelops your frame. 

“You’re telling me I’ve lived here for 30-something years and there was gold right there!” Stan exclaims, his finger pressed against a spot on the map that you had marked with a star.

You chuckle against your mug as you take a sip of your coffee, “You could have been swimming in gold all these years. We’ll have to see if there’s any left at that lake in particular though.” 

“Oh, there better be! I got 30 years of gold to catch up on!” Stan says, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

Ford clears his throat, making his presence known as he stands with his hands behind his back.

You both look up to see Ford, and you immediately get up, excited to share your plans with him. “Morning, Ford, come join us. You’ll never guess what me and Stan planned for today!” You say, heading over to the coffee pot and pouring some into a mug,  “But first, coffee, right?”

“That would be lovely, Y/N. Thank you.” Ford replies, pulling up a chair to your left. His tense expression softens at the sight of you so energized with a wide albeit tired smile across your face. You walk over to him with the mug, handing it off, your fingertips brushing against his before you pull away once it’s in his grasp.

“You take your coffee black, right? I think that’s what I remember but let me know if I got that completely wrong.” You admit with a sheepish grin to which Ford shakes his head. “No, you’re correct.”

“So I was a bit bummed out that my camping gear was going to go to waste last night so Stan suggested we all go on a quick camping trip.” You begin explaining, taking a seat, “There’s a campground about thirty minutes out that has a hiking trail, a lake, and it’s a great place for stargazing at night.” You push the map in front of Ford, pointing out each of the details. “Most importantly, there’s gold.” Stan interjects, pointing at the star.

Ford rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics, still perplexed on why his jacket was on your shoulders. ”You know you have to pan for the gold, Stanley, it isn’t just laying there for you to take.” He says tersely, causing Stan to blink at the sudden edge in his brother’s voice. 

“Yeah, I know, Poindexter. I know I’m not the brains of the two of us but I wasn’t born yesterday.” Stan says, wondering what had his brother so bothered. His eyes look over at you and immediately it hits him in the face.

Oh shit.

The jacket.

“So… what do you think? ” You ask, leaning forward expectantly. As Ford looks into your eyes, he sees the joy in them that he can’t bear to take away from you. 

Maybe anomaly hunting and restoring your memories could wait a day.

“I think it’s an excellent plan, I’d love to go, I’m assuming the kids are coming along,” Ford says, looking over at Stan with a raised eyebrow. “Of course, they’re coming! They’ve been itching to get out of the Shack more often, especially Dipper since Mabel’s been hanging out with her friends this whole week.” Stan scoffs, getting up to pour himself more coffee.

“Yay!” You grin, enveloping Ford into a quick hug out of pure excitement before shrugging off the jacket as you get up from your chair, “I’m just going to double check we have all the camping gear we need, might need to stop by the store for smores and food obviously.” You exit the kitchen, grabbing your keys from the counter to take an inventory of the gear.

Ford’s cheeks are bright red at the sudden sign of affection to which Stan snickers at, “Your cheeks are matching your sweater, Ford.”

“Haha, very funny, Stanley. You’re not off the hook.” Ford says, attempting to calm the flush of his cheeks by pressing his normally cold hands against them, “Mind explaining to me why she was wearing your jacket?”

Stan’s posture straightens in response and he groans, “Jeez, I didn’t peg you to be the jealous type. Look, last night, she was up on the rooftop in just her pajamas. Said she had a bad dream. I felt bad because she was shivering, ma raised us to treat a lady with respect so I offered her my jacket. If anything, you should thank me - otherwise she would have gotten hypothermia.”

“That’s statistically impossible, Stanley, given the weather conditions in the summer.” Ford attempts to explain but drops it as he sees his brother’s “really?” look. Ford continues on with his question, “But what’s this about a bad dream? Did she give you any details? You know we discovered that her dreams may actually be her memories but with bits and pieces missing.”

“Nah, she didn’t say anything else.” Stan shrugged, “Didn’t wanna pry, though it was bad enough that she had to go up on the roof to get some fresh air.”

“I guess I’ll see if she’d be open to talking about it today,” Ford sighs, wondering if you’re starting to get your memories back of when Ford was deep into his research… and his involvement with Bill. He had to admit there was a selfish wish that he hoped those memories would not start resurfacing until you two had gotten closer. 

Stan observes his twin’s brows furrow and sighs, nudging Ford on the side. “Hey, I know that look. You’re overthinking this… let’s just enjoy today alright? She’s here for the next week or so, the least you could do is make new memories with her.” This snaps Ford out of his ruminations and he sighs, his shoulders relaxing, “You’re right.”

“And hey, at least if you make new memories-” Stan cuts himself off, ready to counter Ford’s argument to defend his stance before grinning, “Wait, what did you say? Did you actually say I was right?”

“Yes, you’re right, Stan.” Ford groans, crossing his arms as he knows his brother is relishing in this moment.

“Give me one second.” Stan says, stepping out of the kitchen. Ford wonders where his brother is going before Stan comes back with an object in his hand, “Okay, say that one more time.”

“Stanley, I’m not going to say it again so you can record it on that voice recorder and play it back over and over again.”

“Aw, come on!” 

-

After the kids wake up, you share the plans with them, beaming as they seem elated to get out of the house and go on an adventure with their Grunkles and you.

“It’s like the road trip we took last summer except we aren’t stopping at all those tourist attractions that Grunkle Stan tried to get revenge on.” Mabel comments in between bites of pancakes.

“Yeah, and he doesn’t get captured and almost eaten by that spider lady he was hitting on.” Dipper interjects.

You and Ford look at Stan with raised eyebrows.

“What? There's stiff competition in the tourist trap industry, so I had to show 'em who’s top dog! Also, she was a very pretty spider lady.” Stan defended himself.

Wrapping up breakfast, you all disperse to get ready - the kids head upstairs to pack their duffel bags for the overnight trip, and Stan heads outside to change out your car battery before swinging by the store to grab the remaining supplies. As you’re packing up your backpack, you hear a knock at the door and turn your head to see Ford, his own bag slung over his shoulder. 

It was the first time you were seeing him in different attire since you arrived two days ago, wearing a yellow button-up with the sleeves rolled up, a white undershirt and a pair of dark jeans, forgoing his usual red turtleneck and black pants.

“Changing up the look for today?” You comment on the difference, your eyes roaming up and down to assess the outfit. You had to admit, he looked really handsome... not that he didn't usually.

“Well, it probably would be a bit impractical to wear a turtleneck on a hike considering we’re not hiking in the mountains.” Ford explained, tugging at his collar.

In reality, Mabel had stormed into his room whilst he was packing, insisting he had to wear something to impress you and this was their compromise. 

“That’s fair, I’m sure you’d be sweating up a storm after the first mile.” You chuckle before shooting him a compliment with a sincere smile, “You look really nice, Ford.”

Ford stammers in response, his cheeks red, “Uh… why thank you.. You do too, though you always look nice..” He fumbles over his words. At 60 years of age, here he is, bumbling like a fool, feeling like a middle schooler trying to ask out his crush.

Your laughter sounds sweet to his ears as you can’t help but giggle at his awkward charm. “Thank you, Ford, that’s sweet of you. You ready to head out?” You swiftly change the topic in order to save him from further embarrassment.

“Y-Yes! Let’s get going, I think the kids are ready.” Ford says, following you out.

The five of you end up piling into your car, able to stuff all your bags into the trunk with the camping gear in the cargo box on your roof rack. The seating situation ended up being a bit of an issue, Mabel and Dipper piling into the back automatically but both Stan and Ford reach for the passenger door. 

“I gotta sit in the front to navigate, Ford.” Stan explained, holding up the map to the campsite in his hand.

Unable to argue with that logic, Ford begrudgingly gets in the back with Mabel and Dipper. 

The next half an hour of the drive along the Redwood Highway is filled with Stan pointing out each of the other tourist traps, sharing stories of how they pranked the Mystery Shack, including a time where they taped Soos to the ceiling, and Mabel and Dipper teaching Ford the game Punch Buggy.

“Who invented this game? It’s pure torture!” Ford groans, his arm sore after Mabel and Dipper had socked him a few times in a row.

“Grunkle Ford, I think you just need to improve your reaction times.” Dipper chuckles.

Finally arriving at the campground, you are grateful to see that there were plenty of spots still open, opting for one with a firepit nearby the lake. The moment you parked, the kids ran out, taking in the sight of the crystal clear lake and roaming around to explore the campground. 

“Let’s set up the tents before we head out for the hike to the stream. I know we’re gonna be tired after it and get lazy.” You explain to Stan and Ford who nod and follow your lead as you open up the cargo box, grabbing the tents and handing them both one to set up while you put up the hammock and canopy. 

“Uhh, Y/N, are two tents going to be enough for all of us?” Stan asked as he began to hammer the spikes into the ground. You nod, “Yeah, one of them is pretty roomy so at least three people should be able to fit inside.”

Unfortunately, you had overestimated how much room was in the bigger tent as Ford and Stan tested it out themselves, only an inch of room left over.

“Well… I guess I’ll just sleep under the stars tonight, not a big deal.” You glance over at the hammock, grateful you brought it with. 

“Are you sure? You’ll be eaten alive by mosquitos out here.” Ford says with concern.

“I have a mosquito net in the hammock, thankfully. I can also douse myself in bug spray before I sleep for extra precaution.” You explain, lifting the hammock to reveal a net that you could zip up to shield you from the bugs.

“It’s your tent, Y/N. I’ll just sleep in the hammock, you and Ford can take the tent.” Stan offers, “Besides, I snore… loud. I don’t think anyone wants to be stuck in a tent with me.”

You mull over the offer before smiling graciously, “Alright, thanks for offering, Stan. I’m gonna go find the kids and we’ll head out for the hike.” You walk away. Once your back is faced away from the twins, Stan grins mischievously at his brother, “You know it might get awfully cold at night.. Make sure to keep ‘em warm.” Ford’s face turns red, swiftly elbowing his brother in the ribs.

“Ow! Why’d you have to elbow my good rib?!”

After finding Dipper and Mabel, you all begin your hike to the stream where Stan wanted to pan for gold. The massive trees that towered above you provided much needed shade as you followed the trail. Along the way, Ford would make commentary on the various flora, listing off facts off the top of his head despite studying them years ago. 

“How does he know all of this? I work in the Parks and I don’t even know this much.” You mutter out loud in awe. Stan chuckles, “Ford’s practically a walking encyclopedia. I’m sure he talked your ear off back in the day..” You recall the memory of your first time meeting Ford that had finally returned yesterday, sitting in front of him as he easily explained the theory surrounding seismic refractions with ease, like he had spent the last 20 years of his life studying it.

“Yeah… he kinda did. But I don’t think I minded, I get the sense that he gets passionate about the things he loves. There’s like a spark in his eyes when he gets to just share his knowledge to someone who’s willing to listen.” You admit with a smile. “Yeah, I never really understood what he was talking about half the time… but I get what you mean.” Stan comments fondly.

“Y/N, look at this cool rock I found! It’s kinda funny looking.” Mabel says, running up to you with a rock with several ridges and grooves. Stan looks at the rock himself, “Looks kinda like the mole I got on my back.” to which Mabel groans at the mental image. 

You laugh softly at Mabel’s reaction, taking the rock from her as she hands it off to you to examine before you recognize it, “Well, actually, this funny looking rock actually has a gemstone inside of it - if you’d wanna see?” You explain with a grin. 

Mabel’s eyes light up and she nods eagerly, “Can I crack it open?” You chuckle at her enthusiasm, handing her the rock, “Of course. Luckily, I brought some of my excavating tools with me.” You rummage through your backpack before pulling out a wooden hammer for her to use. 

You had a pickaxe but you had the hindsight to not give a 13-year-old a metal tool that she could easily poke her eye out with.

“Go crazy, Mabel.” You encourage her and she takes your lead, placing it down on the ground and giving it a swift wack. This catches Dipper and Ford’s attention as Ford was in the middle of explaining to Dipper the various types of mushrooms that gnomes use for homes.

The rock split open, revealing the shiny interior. You reach down to pick it up, showing Mabel the different layers of quartz. “This gemstone is actually called a thunderegg. Funny name for a funny looking rock, I guess, but all of them have different patterns depending on how long they’ve been here.” You explain, handing it back to Mabel, “When we get back to the Mystery Shack, I can polish it for you so it shines a little bit better.”

She puts it up to the sun, watching it sparkle as the light refracts off the quartz. “It can get shinier than this?!” Mabel exclaims excitedly to which you chuckled, “It certainly can!” She glances between the gemstone and the sunstone that hangs on your neck, “Could you show me how to get it on a necklace like you have yours? I have a bunch of string and craft stuff at the Shack we can use!”

You clear your throat, “Actually Mabel, you might want to ask your Grunkle Ford. After all, he’s the one who made this for me.” You admit with a shy smile.

“Grunkle Ford, you old softie! I didn’t know you could make something like that!” Mabel says as she turns to Ford with a teasing grin, almost squealing in delight. Ford rubs the back of his neck bashfully, “Well, I do like to dabble in artistic endeavors every now and then. Though I’ve only ever done a project like this for Y/N.” He admitted.

You find your own cheeks getting warm, grabbing the necklace and glancing down at it with a sudden fondness. You look up to see Ford staring at you in a pining manner before quickly looking away, suddenly engrossed in the mushrooms at his feet. 

“Alright, you two, let’s get moving! We’re burning daylight here and I need to get to this gold as soon as possible before these greedy suckers get to it first!” Stan’s voice cuts through the moment, though his expression was more amused than annoyed.

“R-Right!” Both you and Ford stutter, picking up the pace.

You finally make it to the stream, watching in amusement as Stan immediately begins to roll up his pants the moment it comes into view.

“Alright, pan me, Y/N!” Stan says, placing his hand out. You roll your eyes playfully, reaching into your backpack to grab some pans you had snagged from a gold panning site during one of your shifts at the Parks. You handed it over to Stan before holding up the two other ones you had, “You wanna help your Grunkle get some gold?” You ask Dipper and Mabel.

“Oh, I’ll help but this’ll be my stash, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel grins, taking a pan and kicking off her socks and shoes to join Stan in the stream. Dipper quickly follows behind Mabel and you get ready to join them in the water, kicking off your sandals before pausing as Ford takes a seat on a nearby log.

“You’re not gonna join us, Ford?” You ask, rolling up your pants up to your calves. Ford shakes his head, placing his bag next to him, “I’m going to catch up on some reading, go enjoy yourself, Y/N.” 

“More gold for us then!” Stan says, shaking the pan in the water. You’re distracted by Dipper and Mabel’s laughter, coming behind the two of them. You crouch down, grabbing a clump full of mud and rocks beneath a larger boulder and placing it into the pans. You demonstrate how to properly pan for gold, letting the two of them shake the dirt loose. You feel a splash against your side and look over to see Stan shaking the pan a little too aggressively.

“Whoa, pump the breaks, you might be losing out on gold shaking it like that.” You say, walking over to Stan as the twins seem to have the hang of it. You lean over, pressing up against Stan’s side as your hands cup underneath his. “Once you have most of the dirt out, you want to be a little bit more gentle with your agitation or else the gold will come out.” 

Your hands guide Stan’s, shaking the pan with a bit more delicacy, letting the water wash out the remaining dirt to reveal large flecks of gold. “Now we’re talking!” Stan says excitedly, accessing the gold. He looks back up at you with a sheepish smile, “Uh.. thanks for helping me out.” You shoot him a warm smile, “No problem, didn’t want your efforts to go to waste. Besides, it looks like you got some catching up to do!” You nod your head over to Dipper’s pan which sparkles with gold.

Stan wasn’t sure whether his heart beat racing was because of his excitement over the gold or from having you up so close to him.

He tries to push the thought, not wanting to dwell on the weird feeling as he takes the challenge, throwing more clumps of mud into his pan, “Oh it is on!”

Ford watches from afar, a journal precariously propped up on his leg as he sketches out the scene before him - you with your hair tied up, clutching your stomach as you laugh at the antics of his family. He smiles fondly as the real reason he wanted to watch was to be able to have the opportunity to sketch you. 

When he started the journals, they were mostly dedicated to his research though he had a fleeting thought every now and then to sketch you into a few entries as you helped him with several of his discoveries.

There was also a part of him wanting to relish in this and have his own memories to look back on, knowing how fleeting this moment was and how uncertain the road ahead of getting your memories back was. 

“Grunkle Ford, look at all the gold Dipper and I got!” Mabel ran up to him, holding her pan with a decent amount of gold. Dipper follows behind her, noticing that his great uncle was sketching something in a journal. His eyes lit up in curiosity, “Did you see an anomaly out here, Grunkle Ford?”

Ford looked up from his sketch, taken aback by Dipper’s question, “No, I was just sketching some of the scenery!” Mabel’s eyes narrow and she looks over at Dipper with a skeptical look that he returns. The two of them rush to Ford’s side, Mabel’s hand slamming on the sketchbook to keep Ford from shutting it. They both look down to see the detailed drawing of you and Mabel squeals loudly, causing you and Stan to look over.

“Everything ok over there?” You ask, pulling out the bits of gold from Stan’s pan and collecting them in a pail you had brought with you. “Y-yes, everything’s fine over here!” Ford stammers. You look over at Stan who simply shrugs, “I stopped asking a long time ago.”

When you turn your attention back to Stan, Ford lets out a sigh of relief before starting back at Mabel’s wide grin and Dipper’s amused smile. “So that’s why you didn’t wanna join us in the water.” Dipper pointed out. “Grunkle Ford, you should totally show her! She would love this!!” Mabel suggests excitedly. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that would be the best idea, Mabel.” Ford explains with a sad smile, patting Mabel’s head as she deflates in disappointment, “I fear that it might scare her away if I’m too forward with my feelings. I caused her a lot of pain before and I wouldn’t want to put her in an even more uncomfortable situation when she regains all her memories… but maybe if she gives me a second chance, I’ll show it to her.” Mabel slightly brightens up with a smile, nodding.

The twins head back into the water, depositing their gold into the pail before starting back up. Somehow, panning for gold had turned into a splashing contest after Mabel accidentally sloshed her pan too aggressively, causing it to hit Dipper in the back. Splashes were exchanged back and forth in a playful manner with Stan and you managing to get caught in the crossfire. 

“Oh you two are going to get it!” Stan says in a menacing tone, using his pan to splash them back in retaliation. Laughter filled the stream, and you glance over your shoulder to see Ford completely dry with his nose in the journal. You walk up, wringing out the water from your top. “Looks like you’re doing more writing than reading.” You point out with a grin.

Ford shuts his journal immediately at the sound of your voice, placing it back into his bag swiftly, “S-Sorry, I tend to get engrossed in whatever I’m doing.” He looks up finally to see your clothes completely wet and blinks, “You’re soaking wet, Y/N.” You chuckle, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the water, “Yeah, and you’re completely dry so let’s change that.”

“Y-Y/N, wait a second, I-!” Ford’s protest is cut off the moment you tug him forward a bit too forcefully. He loses balance on his feet, causing him to fall forward… with you tumbling down with him. Your back hits the water, causing a huge splash to which Stan and the twins turn around to look at. You look up to see Ford on top of you, his arms on either side of your head with a look of concern etched across his features.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Ford frets over you, not realizing the compromising position you’re both in. Heat blooms into your cheeks at the sight, the fabric of Ford’s shirt now damp and clinging to his shoulders and chest. You begin to sit up, causing Ford to back away. “I-I’m alright, sorry for tugging you so hard.” You mutter, eyes widening as Ford cradles the back of your head, his own eyes assessing your face carefully. “Um, Ford, what are you doing?”

“Well, I have to check for bruises or lacerations. Traumatic head injuries are no joke, Y/N. Now follow my finger with your eyes.” Ford instructs, placing his index finger in front of your eyes and moving it up and down and side to side. You follow his instructions but get distracted by a flash in your peripheral vision.

Ford and you look over to see Mabel with a camera in her hand, a wide grin spread across her cheeks, “That’s definitely going in the scrapbook!”

-

After making your way back to the campsite, Stan got started on a fire to help everyone warm up while your wet clothes hung on the tree nearby. Thankfully, you all brought a change of clothes, slipping on a sweater over your shirt as you step out of you and Ford’s tent.

You blinked, seeing Stan sitting alone on a log next to the fire, stoking the flames with a large stick.

“Where’s Ford and the kids?” You ask, looking around as Ford and the twins were nowhere to be found. You approach the fire, letting out a sigh of satisfaction as the flame warms your hands as you extend them outward.

“Apparently what I thought was a mosquito was actually a fairy. Almost swatted it before Ford stopped me.” Stan said, swinging around the bug zapper he brought. “Ford went to go see with the kids if there were more nearby.”

“A fairy? I know Ford mentioned there were anomalies out here but I didn’t expect them to be straight out of a fantasy novel..” You said in surprise, taking a seat next to Stan and grabbing a Pitt Cola out of the cooler near his feet.

“Oh you think that’s bad? There’s tons more apparently.. My memories of all of ‘em haven’t quite come back but I found a gnome in our backyard just this past week if that tells ya anything.” Stan chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to see what else is out there. Ford mentioned wanting to bring me anomaly hunting one day while I’m here.” You comment, curious if there were more threatening anomalies out there considering Ford had mentioned wanting to take you on a safer one.

“Of course Poindexter suggested anomaly hunting as a date.” Stan snickers.

“I wouldn’t call it a date, I’m sure he’ll want to bring Dipper and Mabel along like he did tonight.” You say.

“I doubt it, he’s been wanting to get one-on-one time with you any chance he gets. Thought he was ready to fight me earlier when I rode in the front with you.” Stan scoffed, tossing another piece of dry wood into the fire.

You watch as the flames grow before your eyes, the smoke pluming into the sky. Bringing your knees up to your chest as you hug them, you ask Stan about his brother, “What was Ford like… before you guys reconnected? Did he do something that caused your guys’ relationship to be rocky?”

Stan’s body stills at your question, placing his Pitt Cola down and leaning back with his hands holding him up. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just…” You take a breath, your brows knitting together to find the right words, “Even though our first impression… I guess second impression since obviously we knew each other.. Either way, it was pretty bad. But he’s shown me that he can be kind and thoughtful. I just can’t wrap my head around how he could be capable of hurting me in the way that he describes.”

Stan stares back at you, a conflicted look in his eyes, and you stare down at the ground, embarrassment running over you, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be bringing this up.. He’s your brother for god’s sake and I’m asking you these probing questions about him behind his back.”

“No… I get why you’re asking them.” Stan finally responds, causing you to look up. His hand rests on his neck, rubbing it in thought, “From what I remember, Ford and I growing up were like two peas in a pod. Inseparable. I did something stupid when I was a teenager that pretty much sabotaged Ford’s chance into his dream school.”

“Guess some good came out of that… obviously he met you.” Stan says, staring back at you finally. “We didn’t talk... for ten years after that. Honestly, those years in between when we didn’t talk are still pretty blurry but I can tell you that when he finally reached back out, it wasn’t for the reasons I had hoped.”

“Were they selfish reasons?” You ask, trying to understand how they just recently made up if they reunited over thirty years ago.

Stan explains, “In a way. You see, Ford got in his head way too much. He still kinda does but back then, we got into a huge fight after he pretty much pushed me away again. Told me to take his research and go as far away from him as possible. It felt like he cared more about his research more than anything else. More than himself. More than me.”

“He did tell me he pushed away the people who cared about him the most in his pursuit to prove his worth. I guess we were those people, including Fiddleford.” You reflect before asking the main question on your mind, “I still don’t get what happened between you guys reuniting back then and then just making up this past summer.”

Stan pauses before sighing as he pinches the bridge of the nose, “I was hoping Poindexter was going to be the one to explain all this portal nonsense to you but I guess I’ll try my best.”

Stan proceeds to explain in the most condensed and simplistic way he can the background behind Ford’s research, building the portal and how his brother got sucked into the portal after Stan pushed him into it by accident during their fight and was stuck in another dimension until last summer.

You stare back at Stan like he has two heads, wondering if Ford bribed him with a couple bucks to prank you with this elaborate tale straight out of a sci-fi movie.

“Yeah, that’s the exact same look I had on my face when Ford told me about the portal.” Stan chuckles, watching as you digest the information. 

“So Ford’s been literally trapped in another dimension for the past 30 years?” You finally speak, your brain moving on from denial to confusion.

“Yup. You ever notice he speaks kinda prim and proper all the time, it’s by choice but also because he’s thirty years behind on any slang or pop culture reference.” Stan shares before staring at you intensely, “Don’t get me started about his reaction when Dipper told him Pluto wasn’t a planet anymore.”

“Wait a second, this portal…” You get up from your seat on the log, heading back into you and Ford’s tent before coming back with your small black journal. Stan stares at the journal and shakes his head in disbelief, “No wonder you and my brother dated.”

You roll your eyes, choosing to ignore the comment before flipping to a specific page and opening it up to Stan, “Did the portal look like this?”

Stan stares at the paper, squinting his eyes as he looks at your rough drawing of the portal before nodding, “Yeah, that’s the portal, alright.”

“So that’s what Ford was working on in my dreams… it was the portal that he thought was going to be the answer to his research.” You say, the realization hitting you as you stare down at the drawing, “Maybe this portal is the reason we parted ways.“ You were beginning to put pieces of you and Ford’s history together, it was becoming more and more clear 

Stan wonders if he might have shared too much with you, seeing the gears turning in your head. Maybe he should have held his tongue, waited for Ford to explain all this stuff to you since he usually had the answers. 

You place a hand on his broad shoulder, interrupting his thoughts, “Hey Stan… sorry for putting you on the spot but I really appreciate it. I feel like I understand what’s happening in my dreams way more.” You pause before saying, “It also helps to know that Ford didn’t just push me away but other people during that time.”

Stan’s shoulders visibly relax and he feels a sense of comfort in your touch. “No problem, glad I could explain it in a non-sciencey way. Trust me, when Ford explained it to me, half the stuff he said flew right over my head.” 

You both hear footsteps approaching and turn around to see Ford carrying a mason jar that contained a pink fairy that fluttered around in confusion with Mabel and Dipper trailing by his side. 

“Y/N, look at this fairy!” Mabel says excitedly, running up to you. 

You approach Ford, crouching down to observe the fairy. Your eyes widen in intrigue, watching as there is a distinct trail of glitter that follows it as it flutters about. You glance up at Ford, “Is the fairy gonna be okay in there?” 

Ford rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “I’ll release it, Mabel insisted we catch one to bring back to show you.” 

“This is your first time seeing an anomaly, right, Y/N?” Dipper asks, curious if you remember any of the anomalies you saw with his great uncle when he first started his research.

“Well, first time that I can remember at least. Your Grunkle Stan was telling me there are apparently gnomes that live near the Mystery Shack.” You chuckle, placing your hands on the jar.

“Those gnomes kinda still creep me out to this day..” Mabel commented, now sitting next to Stan with a skewer stacked with marshmallows to put over the fire.

You look over at Ford for an explanation who simply shrugs and Dipper chimes in, “They.. uh tried to marry Mabel and make her their gnome queen.” 

First, the fairy, then Ford getting trapped in an interdimensional portal, and now, this.

You wonder how many more crazy reveals your brain could take in a single day.

“Wanna do the honors and release it?” Ford asks, handing the jar off to you. You take it cautiously, slowly opening the lid and wincing as you pull back the lid. The fairy immediately bursts out, leaving a trail of pink dust behind as it flies into the night sky.

You glance back at Stan and raise an eyebrow, “How did you think that was a mosquito?”

Ford chuckled at your question, “I was thinking the same thing when he almost fried it with his bug zapper.” 

“My vision isn't the greatest, okay? I got cataracts!” 

You, Ford and the kids laugh, coming together in front of the fire. You were shoulder to shoulder with Stan and Ford, Mabel sitting on the ground in front of you while you braided her hair and Dipper being in charge of roasting both him and Mabel’s marshmallows after she lit hers on fire.

You come to find out that Stan’s talent to spin an elaborate tale translates well into telling spooky ghost stories by the fire, wriggling his fingers and using his hands to help emphasize his points. Surprisingly, he ends up having a captivated audience, even Ford listening in amusement with his arms crossed.

Seeing the kids starting to yawn and their eyes getting heavier after a few hours, you all decide to call it for the evening. Stan and Ford work on stamping out the flames as you walk over to Dipper and Mabel’s tent, making sure they have their flashlights on them in case of a late night bathroom run before zipping up their tent.

Out in the woods, the dark sky above is littered with stars. With the light source of the flames gone, the constellations in the sky are even more clear. Ford watches you staring up at the night sky in awe. He recalls the nights where the two of you would sit on the roof where you most likely sat with his brother the other evening, noting all the various constellations. 

He wonders if you remember his favorite ones or if just by association to the memory of him, they’ve been wiped clean from your brain.

Ford approaches you, his eyes glancing up at the wondrous view above the both of you, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It really is…” You reply with a smile, “I haven’t seen them this clearly in years. Usually light pollution ends up making it hard to them at all.”

“Do you have a favorite constellation?” Ford asks though he already knows the answer.

Perseus.

“Perseus is my favorite.” You answer, extending your arm outward to point it out to Ford. His eyes follow your finger to the constellation, staring up at it. Not that he needed you to point it out for him, he often would look up the stars during his travels with Stanley and find it. 

Wondering if you were out there somewhere staring at it as well.

“The Hero Constellation… a great choice.” Ford hums before letting out a yawn.

“Getting past your bedtime?” You tease, causing Ford to laugh softly.

“You know I’m not that much older than you, Y/N. You’re making me feel like an old geezer.” Ford banters back.

Stan pats you both on the shoulder, “Well, this old geezer is gonna hit the hay. I didn’t get any sleep last night since we spent the whole night planning this.” He starts approaching the hammock before staring at it with his hands on his hips before looking back at you.

“Hey, uh, how do I get in this thing?” He asks.

Ford slaps his forehead and you roll your eyes mirthfully, walking over to show Stan how to get into the hammock.

“You can head to bed, Ford. This might.. take a while.” You tell Ford, trailing off as you watch Stan attempt to put his foot in and almost flip the hammock over.

Ford nods, despite wanting to wait up for you, he knew it would be infinitely more awkward trying to fall asleep with you laying right there in front of him. “I’ll sleep on the further side so you don’t have to step over me on your way into the tent. Good night, Y/N.” He says.

“Good night, Ford.” You reply with a wave as you try to hold the fabric of the hammock taut to give Stan enough stability to slip inside.

“Yeah, good night to you too, Ford.” Stan calls out wryly to which Ford proceeds to flick off his brother playfully before slipping into the tent.

-

After assisting Stan into the hammock and helping put the mosquito net over him, you slip into you and Ford’s tent. You try to move as carefully as possible, not wanting to disturb Ford who laid inside a sleeping bag on the other side of the tent. You glance over, seeing Ford sleeping peacefully next to you.

You notice he still has his glasses on and you reach over carefully, slipping them off gingerly. Ford slightly stirs which causes you to halt your movements before his breath evens out again, showing that he was still deep in sleep. You place his glasses off to the side and finally slip into your sleeping bag.

Your eyelids grow heavy the moment your head rests on the pillow, the lack of sleep from the night before catching up to you. You drift to sleep, not thinking about what dream might await you this evening.

The sensation of the metal desk presses against the small of your back. You feel like a mouse cornered by a cat, Ford’s frame towering over you as your hands are pinned down. A lump forms in your throat as you stare back at the man you love, his eyes bright yellow and his pupils narrow.

“So you’re Bill?” You say cautiously. 

You had seen Bill briefly move into Ford’s mind to help him solve an equation that had stumped him or share a finding to help with his research but never fully taking control of his body.

“That’s me, I’m sure Ford’s told you all about me..” Bill grins, “After all, I am his muse.”

You bristle at the term, the exact reaction Bill had hoped for to get under your skin. 

You listened to Ford go on and on about how amazing his muse was, how he helped ease his mind, how he understood him like no one else did.

All while you stood there, feeling insignificant as each day went on.

A shudder ran down your spine as a cold hand reached up to cup your chin, tilting your head side to side while Bill’s eyes assessed you like a specimen in a lab, “Listen, Y/N, you’re becoming a bit of a distraction to old Fordsy.”

“Distraction? What do you mean?” You say defensively.

“Every time you try to get him to go to bed, every time you and that hillbilly try to goof around and pull him away from his work, it delays him finishing this portal.” Bill points out.

“He’s a human being, not a robot. He can’t just keep working himself into exhaustion.” You protest.

Bill’s eyes narrow.

He doesn’t like that response.

“Listen, Gemstone, you really want to get in the way of Ford’s dreams? I thought you loved him,” Bill cackles, his hand sliding down to press tightly against your throat. The pressure pushes the gem on your necklace further into your skin, causing you to wince.

“I-I do.” You wheeze out, your airway feeling restricted but not being choked quite yet.

“Then if you do, take my advice. The sooner you leave him alone to work on and finish this portal, the sooner he can rest. Don’t you want him to be able to show this to his old man and finally hear that he’s proud of him?” Bill says with a maniacal grin.

He knows he got you with his last question, your face morphing into guilt.

You knew how important this was to Ford, how he needed this portal to work so he could make something out of all his research and hard work. You knew how desperately Ford wanted that validation from his family, from his dad.

“We have a deal?” Bill asks.

“Alright… I’ll leave him alone.” You cave, gasping for air as Bill removes his hand.

“Good, glad we were able to come to an understanding. I’ll make sure Ford gets all the knowledge I can offer and you two can finally start the life you always wanted together, right?” Bill says with a grin before crouching down to be eye level with you.

“Now don’t tell, Ford, about our little meeting, okay? We wouldn’t want him to worry and get distracted, now would we?”

You shoot up in a panic, a sense of dread filling your body. Your eyes dart to see Ford lying there and you immediately back away, the memory of his hand on your neck fresh in your subconscious. Your legs kick the sleeping bag away, not caring what noise you make. Your hands tremble, fumbling with the zipper of the tent before finally getting it unzipped enough to slip out of the tent.

The air hits your cheeks but it’s not enough to stop your racing heart.

Your feet carry you over to the lake, crouching to the ground as your hands cup together to splash the water onto your face. The cool liquid pricks at your skin but the sensation is enough to shock you out of your fevered state. 

Your fast breaths slow down in pace and after a few splashes of cold water, your breath has begun to even out.

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump.

“Are you okay?”

[takamimami]

Like a Moth to a Flame

Pairing: Eustass Kidd + f!Reader + Roronoa Zoro (no use of y/n)

Where are my Zoro/Kidd lovers?!? I'm sick and this is what I spent my day sitting on my couch typing. 11 pages of straight debauchery. Enjoy :3

CW: SMUT, a literal fever dream bear with me, threesome, cunnilingus, deepthroating, rough sex, Zoro is a meanie :3, cuckolding, yes Kidd gets cucked, lots of teasing, slight power play dynamics, dom/sub vibes all around, Zoro calls you 'pretty girl', Kidd calls you 'angel' --- word count: 4.7k

🔞NSFW; MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS KEEP IT MOVING🔞

Summary: Eustass Kidd doesn't own you - doesn't belong to you nor do you belong to him, and he certainly doesn't care what you choose to do with your free time..... unless it happens to not be him. How will he handle you taking someone from an ally crew to bed? The answer: not well. OR Maybe Eustass Kidd just needs to see you get your guts rearranged in order to realize that he does, in fact, give a shit about you.

From the moment he saw you talking to the Straw Hat’s swordsmen, Kidd could tell that something in him piqued your interest. He’d seen it the first time the two of you interacted after the alliance was formed - the way you seemed to gravitate toward him as everyone discussed strategy and tactics, the way you smirked every time Zoro’s eyes lingered on you a little longer than they did anyone else as everyone recounted their experiences during the raid. And now Kidd watched as his suspicions were confirmed, noting how you pressed your shoulders back and your chest against his arm as the two of you sipped sake together.

Kidd could feel himself growing restless as the festivities began to wind down for the night, ready to retire back to the comfort of his ship. As he finishes the last of the drink in his hand he scans the crowd for his lot, eyes settling back on you as you continue to get cozy with the pirate hunter.

He waves a hand in Killer’s direction as he stands and walks toward you, your eyes flicking to him as he saunters over. You quirk a brow at him and unconsciously pull away from Zoro, the action not unnoticed by the swordsman as he flicks his eyes between you and Kid.

You didn’t know where you stood with your captain anymore, you knew he preferred to have you warm his bed rather than a nameless face, and his drunken rambles made you privy to the fact that there may be more to your relationship than just being his crew mate. But what the two of you had was fun, simple, and most importantly, not messy. Neither of you had any expectations of the other one, yet the underlying sense of loyalty you felt to Kidd was always in the back of your mind, never wanting to make him question your intentions.

As he approached he grinned at Zoro, his eyes flicking down to your chest, and then down to where your thigh pressed against his, lingering there for a moment before coming back up to meet Zoro’s gaze.

“You two look cozy,” he chuckles, and you can sense an undertone you don’t often hear from your captain in his words. “We’re heading back to the ship, see to it she makes it back safely.”

Kidd’s eyes remain locked on Zoro, the command weighing heavy in the air as he turns on his heel without offering you a glance. He disappears into the night and you feel Zoro’s hand shift on your waist, his eyes finally moving back to you once Kidd’s presence dissipated.

“Your captain doesn’t handle jealousy well, does he?”

You raised a brow at Zoro’s question, taking a sip of sake before offering a reply.

“To be fair, Kidd doesn’t handle any emotion well,” you start, giggling lightly at the presumption, “But I don’t think he was jealous. He’s probably not thrilled at the idea of me getting “cozy” with a Straw Hat.”

Zoro offers you a sideways look, grinning as he takes a sip of his own sake. You watch the bob of his throat as he gulps down the liquid, the flex of his neck muscles hypnotizing you.

“Is everyone in your crew emotionally dense, or is it just the two of you?”

You feign offense to his suggestion, but he continues before you can offer a rebuttal.

“He’s clearly territorial over you, why else would he only check on you before leaving for the night?”

The concept was not lost on you as you let his words sink in, feeling his gaze on you intently as you contemplated what to say.

Zoro notes your lack of response, swirling his glass a few times before continuing, “Maybe its just a male thing, but I’ve noticed it ever since the first time you spoke to me. You may not notice it because it’s normal for you, but I do - the constant checking up on you, the stares that linger a bit too long, the way he tenses if you smile at anyone that’s not him.”

You nod your head, still processing his comments, “Very observant, Mr. Swordsman.” 

He lets out a single chuckle before raising his glass for another drink.

“Does that worry you?”

Zoro’s arm hesitates as he brings his sake glass back to his lips, a devilish smirk curling on his lips before he finishes the drink. The hand around your waist tightens as he pulls you flush to his side, craning his neck down so his face is close enough for you to feel the tickle of his breath as he lets out a chuckle.

“Not at all.”

His lips are softer than you thought they’d be, though the kiss is as harsh as you were craving it to feel as he closes the distance between the two of you completely, his tongue wasting no time and immediately prodding at your lips. They part for him willingly as you taste the sake on his tongue, his scent flooding your senses due to his proximity. You rest your hand on his broad chest, feeling the muscles underneath your hand flex and relax as you settle into his embrace. The kiss quickly heats up and you find yourself biting down on his bottom lip, to which he pulls away and stares into your glossy eyes, his own hazy eyes dark with desire.

“And what about you, hm?” he croons, nuzzling his nose into your chin as he leans down to pepper kisses along your jaw. “You said yourself that you’re captain doesn’t handle his emotions well.” You feel your back arch and your body lean into him as he moves down to your neck, his kisses growing slopier the lower he goes.

“Are you willing to risk his wrath for one night of fun?”

You moan as the idea flashes through your mind, the two of you tangled in the sheets, his hard sculpted body pressed against you as you both explore each other. It was unspoken between the two of you, but deep down you both knew things would never go beyond this fleeting moment. Your loyalties to your captains were woven too deeply into your beings to ever consider anything more.

“Or, is that what you want?” Zoro smiles against the skin of your neck, biting and sucking down on the tender skin above your jugular before detaching his teeth and licking over the abused area. “You love pissing him off, don’t you?”

You feel heat rush straight to your core as you squeeze your legs together, the truth of his words causing a moan to escape your mouth as he continues his assault on your neck. He traces his hand up from the middle of your back to pull at the hair on the nape of your neck, exposing more of your neck to him and earning a deeper moan in response. 

You can feel his smile widen at your reaction, the lack of a rebuttal telling him all he needed to know as he pulls away from your neck reluctantly. 

“Shall we?”

His invitation doesn’t need any further explanation, his lust-filled eyes watching you as you stand and turn toward the pier. You can feel Zoro’s eyes on you the entire walk to the Victoria Punk, though the closer you get to the ship the faster your heart beats at the thought of what was to come.

You ascend the gangway and immediately scan the deck, relieved to only see a few crew members lingering in the darkness. You reach back and tug Zoro’s arm, trying to make your way to one of the communal rooms without being spotted. 

You duck into the room quickly, not noticing that Kidd had spotted you the second you stepped onto the deck. He noted your flushed face and how you kept your gaze low before turning back to the drink he was nursing, cursing lowly to himself for even caring what you did in your spare time.

“Leave it you freaks to have a designated sex room on board your ship,” he teases, cocking a grin as he spins around to look at you.

“Actually,” you say pressing the door shut with your heel, taking his jab as a compliment, “We have three.”

As you spun around and locked the door you felt Zoro’s looming presence surround you, turning and finding him hovering over you patiently, almost as if waiting for permission. You bite your bottom lip and lean against the door, and that seems to be the invitation he was waiting for because he swiftly closes the gap between the two of you, lifting you by the back of your legs and pressing you against the door.

Your hands tangle in his hair as he claims your mouth, this kiss more fervent than the previous one. His hands tug your legs around his waist before roaming elsewhere, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake as he traces the contours of your body.

A needy buck of his hips has you tugging at his clothes, craving more of his touch with each passing second. His large hands reach up and cup the mounds of your breasts, kneading them roughly as he grinds his considerable length into you again, this time deliberately teasing you.

“Zoro, please,” you moan into his mouth, the sound louder than you intended it to be.

He smiles cockily as he pulls away from you, feeling accomplished in having gotten you riled up already. 

“Shhhhh pretty girl,” he croons, “Gonna have your whole crew listening to you beg for my cock if you’re not careful.”

A damp heat pools in your core as he grinds himself into you again, testing if that was in fact your plan. The moan you let slip through your lips is slightly quieter this time, but not enough to disprove his suspicions. One more thrust of his hips has you ready to beg him again but instead, he pulls away from your body, still holding you against the door as he drops to his knees before you. 

You look down at him with heavy lids as he pulls at the waistband of your bottoms, pulling them and your panties down your legs and leaving you bare before him. The sinful way he licks his lips as your cheeks flush, and you barely have a second to process his actions as he lifts your legs over his shoulders. He supports the entire weight of your body as you’re pinned to the wall, your back arching at the first swipe of his tongue through your wet folds. 

He hums at the taste of you, burying his face in deeper as you brace yourself against the door with one hand, the other tangling in his green locks as you bite down on your lip to hold in your moans. You’re only successful in doing so until he prods a finger at your entrance, and then the sudden stretch of his finger has your mouth falling open, allowing a throaty moan to escape you and vibrate the walls of the room. He quickly adds a second finger and curls them along the spongy wall near your entrance, causing you to press your head back against the door as his tongue dances circles around your clit. Stars dance behind your eyelids as you fight to maintain your composure, the knot in your stomach pulling tighter as you yank at Zoro’s hair, earning a grunt of approval from him. 

“C’mon, pretty girl, let ‘em hear you,” he purrs before attaching his lips back to your clit, and you feel him wrap his free hand around your hip to hold you in place as you feel that cord inside you snap. You let out a string of curses as your orgasm ripples through your body, your moans morphing into whimpers as Zoro works you through it, his eyes watching you as you fall apart for him.

With a satisfied smirk, he pulls away from you once your hips have stilled, his chin dripping with your arousal as he brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean.

“You taste as good as you look,” he smiles devilishly, and Gods you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen anything more sinful.

He gently pulls your legs from his shoulders, making sure you’re steady before pulling away from you, walking over towards the bed as he tugs at the remainder of his clothes. 

You hear a faint sound on the other side of the door, but the chiseled naked body in front of you pulls your attention right back as Zoro turns and sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes beckoning you forward as you push yourself away from the door and make your way over to him.

He’s fisting his cock as you strut over to him, pulling your top over your head and discarding it across the room as you reach him and situate yourself in between his thighs. He hisses as you place your hand over his, pulling his hand back as you run your fingers over the swollen and weeping tip of his cock. You spread the precum down his shaft as you begin to work him gently with your hands, keeping your face teasingly close to him as he watches you through his lashes. His heavy lids fall completely closed when you give in and finally wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around it a few times before running it along the thick vein that runs along the underside, your eyes holding his gaze the entire time.

Just as you take him in your mouth fully you feel his body shift, but before you can pull back and inspect him or inquire further he grips the top of your head and presses you down further, a mumbled moan of surprise escaping both of you as he tickles the back of your throat. You screw your eyes shut, willing yourself to take more of him as you begin bobbing your head up and down on him, earning a hiss of approval. Whatever distracted him seemingly hadn’t been important enough to mention, so you continue your ministrations as you feel a needy pulse begin to pool in your core once more.

Zoro’s grunts begin to fill the room as he presses you further and further down his cock, pushing you to your limits until your gag reflex is triggered and you sputter and gag against his length. 

“Fuck, just like that, pretty girl,” he praises, and gag reflex be damned, you slacken your jaw and allow him to press even further into your throat, his hips raising off the bed slightly as he fucks into you. His hand on your head holds you in place as you feel your airway being restricted, trying desperately to breathe in through your nose for some sense of release. In a cruel act of dominance, Zoro notices your struggling and pinches your nose, holding himself deep in your throat as your ears start to ring from the lack of oxygen. Just as you think you’re going to pass out you dig your nails into his thighs and he lets you come up for air, sputtering and coughing as you pull away from him and try to ground yourself again.

You wipe the spit from your face and chin as you look up at him through bleary eyes, the same devilish grin on his face as his chest rises and falls, seemingly equally out of breath from the intensity of the moment.

“I see why your captain likes you so much,” he purrs, leaning down to grab the back of your head and pull you up into his lap, his erection pressing against your thigh as he kisses you sloppily. 

“Is he always this nosy when you bring men back to the ship?”

The question immediately makes your stomach drop, your head flinging to the door as you see a shadow underneath the door, your eyes wide as you start to piece together the signs.

Kidd wasn’t sure why he was still standing outside the door, unsure why for the life of him he couldn’t make his legs work and retreat to the confines of his cabin. His intention of walking over here was to stop you before you got too far into the act, to see if, for some Gods’ forsaken reason, he could convince you not to sleep with someone who wasn’t him tonight. 

But instead when he reached for the door handle, his Observation Haki triggered, and it was like he could see right inside the room - see how the swordsman had you pinned against the door, feasting on you like you were the first thing he’d tasted all day, and the way your body was practically singing for him. 

At first, he convinced himself it was jealousy - that the alcohol was going straight to his dick, and all he wanted was to charge in there and rip you away from him. But then, when he rested his forehead against the wall next to the door, he could sense the change in Zoro’s demeanor, as if he knew Kidd was standing outside the door. 

That made Kidd realize the bastard was goading him, and this was confirmed for Kidd the minute those last words left Zoro’s mouth. 

You were still staring at the door in shock as Zoro brought his head down to your chest, taking a nipple in between his lips as he hums in amusement.

“Tell him he’s welcome to come watch if that’s what he’s into,” he teases, pulling you around so you’re on the edge of the bed.

You whip your head around to look at him, realizing he’s serious as he pats your ass and nudges you off the bed, motioning you towards the door. Your legs work before your brain has any time to process, and sure enough, as you open the door, there he is. 

His eyes roam over your naked body hungrily, and you feel the heat pooling between your legs as he bites his lip, unable to say anything.

“Come in,” you squeak out, and his eyes widen at your request.

“Is that what you want?” his nostrils flare as he speaks, eyes flicking over to Zoro, who’s still sitting on the edge of the bed with a smug grin on his face.

You can only nod, a smirk curling up on your lips as you suddenly feel emboldened by the current power dynamic playing out before you. You walk over to Kidd, pulling at his coat as you push him back into the chair in the corner of the room.

 “Sit.” The command leaves your mouth and, for once, Kidd listens to you with no argument.

His cheeks flare into a blush as Zoro chuckles behind you, and you turn around and make your way back to him, hitching a leg over his and straddling him.

“I didn’t take you as a cuck, Captain Kidd,” Zoro’s taunts. Kidd grunts from the other side of the room, his lip curling up into a snarl even though he keeps his eyes trained on your every movement. 

“Fuck you,” he growls out, unable to refrain from snapping back.

You look over your shoulder at Kidd in warning, and you swear you see his eyes soften ever so slightly before you turn back to Zoro, who in return grabs you by the hips and turns you around. You’re now facing Kidd, each of your legs on the outside of Zoro’s as he pulls you down into his lap, tapping his cock on your pussy a few times as Kidd watches from the chair.

You notice the growing tent in Kidd’s pants, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as Zoro lifts your hips slightly to line himself at your entrance. He leans forward, nipping a bite on your shoulder before bringing his lips up to your ear,

“You gonna show me why your captain loves this pretty little pussy so much?”

You nearly moan just from the filthy words in your ear, and nod your head as you sink down onto his cock, your eyes staring holes into Kidd’s as your lips fall open once he’s fully seated inside you.

Zoro growls into your ear and offers you little time to adjust to him, his strong arms lifting you up and guiding you along his length as he brings his hand around to trace gentle circles on your still-sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” he grunts as you begin to bounce in his lap, the squelching sound of him moving in and out of you accompanied by the slapping of your skin filling the room as you maintain Kidd’s gaze. Every second he looks at you has that knot tightening in your stomach, and you feel yourself growing impossibly wetter from the mixture of the lewd noises and Kidd’s gaze searing into you. Zoro’s cock presses deep inside you, your velvet walls clamping around him as he increases the pressure he’s applying to your clit, earning a strangled cry from you as you struggle to stay grounded.

Zoro leans back and gives you a few deep thrusts of his hips before he repositions you, pulling out of your wetness with a grunt as he walks you over to the corner of the room where Kidd is sitting. You feel a foot on the back of your knees and they immediately buckle, your body now kneeling before Kidd as he sits in the chair, his erection pressing painfully against its confinement.

Zoro drops to his knees behind you and grabs your hair, pressing your face into Kidd’s lap as he thrusts into you greedily, the sensation becoming too much for you as you try to hide your face in Kidd’s thigh. But Zoro notices and tugs your hair, craning your neck back so you’re forced to look up at Kidd, whose eyes are a fiery shade of amber you’ve never seen before.

He pistons in and out of you a few times before pulling you up so your back is flush to his chest, and he runs his tongue up the base of your neck to your ear, his raspy voice making your back arch into his thrust needily.

“Want you to suck your captain’s cock while I fuck you stupid, pretty girl,” he pants, dropping you back into Kidd’s lap as you frantically struggle with his belt.

Kidd’s lips curl slightly as he eyes Zoro skeptically, his eyes flicking back to you instantly as soon as you free him from his briefs.

You lick your lips before taking him in your mouth, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as Zoro’s speed decreases, matching the rhythm of your head bobbing up and down Kidd’s length as Kidd throws his head back. He lets out a throaty groan as you take most of him in your mouth, reaching down to fondle his balls like you know he loves, his hands making their way to your hair to goad you further down his cock.

A particularly sharp snap of Zoro’s hips has your mouth moaning around Kidd, and you feel his cock twitch from the sensation. He presses you to the base of his cock, your eyes watering as you sputter and gag from how far you’re deepthroating him. As he lets you up for air, Zoro tugs you up by the shoulder, pounding into you quicker as he seeks to force you over the edge again.

“Tell him how good I feel,” he growls, and your eyes flicker to Kidd’s immediately, his hand fisting his cock as he watches the lewd scene before him.

His eyes meet your intense gaze, and you avert your eyes to drop your chin as you struggle to find the words.

“H-his cock feels so good, Captain,” you whine, and Kidd thinks he might come just from the desperation in your voice.

Zoro chuckles, reaching over to grab your chin between his fingers and yanking your head back up. You’re convinced your body is going to combust as he sharpens his thrusts, your eyes meeting Kidd’s again.

“Tell him again.”

The sound that leaves your mouth has both men’s lips curling into smirks, and that knot in your stomach tightens again from the new angle of Zoro’s thrusts.

“His cock feels so, fucking, good, Captain!”

You’re sure your cries can be heard all throughout the ship, but you can’t find a morsel of your body that cares as your vision begins to blur.

Kidd shifts forward in his seat, finally unable to handle the lack of control, and grabs your chin into his own hand, snatching your cheeks from Zoro’s grip and bringing his face down to yours. 

“You wanna come, hmm?” Kidd purrs, and you feel the tears begin to stream down your cheeks as he watches you intently.

You nod and manage to choke out a feeble ‘yes please’ and he tightens his grip on your chin, his nose almost touching yours.

He grunts in response, his eyes flashing up to Zoro, who looks like he’s beginning to struggle to maintain his composure. 

“You come inside her, and I swear to god you won’t leave this ship alive,” he snarls, the possessiveness in his tone going straight to your cunt as you feel yourself clamp down around Zoro.

His response is also a grunt, his eyes screwing shut at the feeling of your walls starting to flutter around him.

Kidd smiles cockily, finally feeling a bit more in control as he looks back down to you, your tear-stained cheeks making his cock ache.

“Come on his cock, angel. Show him how pretty you sing for me.”

Kidd knows he’s end is near, so he lets you rest your head on his thigh as he pumps himself. You’re the first one to break, your pussy tightening like a vice around Zoro as the cord in your core snaps, waves of euphoria crashing over you as your moans fill and vibrate through the room. 

Zoro fucks into you for as long as he can manage, but before long his pace turns erratic and he reluctantly pulls out of your velvet walls to spill himself on your back. His grunts echo behind you as he pumps himself dry, Kidd’s own groans and grunts pulling your attention as he comes undone moments later. A few ropes of his cum land on your face as you struggle to catch your breath, the smell of musk and sex permeating the air as you slowly come back down from your high. When you finally open your eyes and lift your head, Kidd is watching you with a softness you weren’t used to seeing from him, and you wipe the remainder of his release from your face as you climb up his limp body, peppering wet kisses along his chest and neck until you meet his lips. 

The kiss feels familiar, but at the same time, there’s an unfamiliar desperation in the way Kidd’s mouth moves against yours that has your mind spinning a mile a minute. Regardless, you can’t help but feel at home in his arms, your sweat-slick bodies melding together like they were made to be that way.

You don’t notice Zoro standing and dressing himself, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he moves towards the door.

Kidd looks around you to eye the swordsman as he opens the door, “Hey! Don’t go running your mouth about what happened here tonight!”

You swat at Kidd’s chest as Zoro raises his hand, swearing himself to keep this secret between them.

“Just make sure I get an invite to the wedding,” he chuckles as he grabs his swords and walks out of the room, your body tensing at the insinuation.

“Not a chance in hell,” Kidd groans, flicking his wrist to force the door shut and locking it again, lifting you and carrying you to the bed with him.

You’re too busy focusing on the fact that Kidd didn’t refute the idea of marrying you to notice the look in his eyes as he hovers over you, sinking his hips into yours for what would surely be an impossibly long night for the both of you.

My hands are sweaty, that is all I have to say :3 lemme know what you thought, and if you liked it, I would love it if you liked and reblogged to spread the love <3 ✨come say hai :3✨ 100 FOLLOWERS EVENT

[pinkslipxox]

could you do a fic like a compilation when Billie have spoke about her kids (the twins) in an interview

hola mi amor! I did a compilation of Billie talking about her twins from newborns to two year olds, hope you like it 😘🥰

——————————————————————————

Newborns:

The bright studio lights shone on Billie Eilish, her usual edgy style softened by a gentle, almost ethereal glow. She sat poised and composed, yet a nervous energy thrummed beneath the surface, a quiet anticipation in the way she clasped her hands. The interviewer, a seasoned professional, leaned forward, his voice a smooth baritone.

"Billie," he began, "you've always been very private about your personal life. But recently, you've become a mother. Can you share a little bit about that experience?"

Billie paused, a soft smile gracing her lips. The usual enigmatic aura that surrounded her seemed to dissipate, replaced by a radiant warmth. "It's… overwhelming," she confessed, her voice soft and tinged with emotion. "In the best possible way."

She spoke about Ava and Mia, her twin daughters, her words filled with a quiet reverence. "They're… amazing. Tiny little humans, full of so much life and energy. Ava's a little more serious, always observing. Mia’s a bit more mischievous, always smiling." A genuine laugh, light and airy, escaped her lips.

The interviewer nodded, encouraging her to continue.

Billie continued, her eyes glistening slightly. "It's changed everything," she said, her voice catching slightly. "My perspective, my priorities… everything. It's hard to explain. It's just… unconditional love. Pure, unadulterated love."

She paused, taking a deep breath, her usual composure momentarily faltering. "And Y/N…" she began, her voice softening even further. "My wife… she's incredible. She's the strongest person I know. She's been amazing through all of this." Her voice cracked, and she quickly wiped away a stray tear. "She's my rock, my everything. I don’t know what I would do without her."

***

Six Months Old:

"Billie," the interviewer began, poised and ready, "you've become a mother of twins! How's that changed your world?”

Billie smiled, a genuine, heart-warming smile that reached her eyes. "It's… chaotic," she admitted, her voice soft and warm. "Pure, beautiful chaos. But the best kind of chaos." She paused, her fingers gently tracing a small, barely-there ring on her left hand.

"They're six months old now, Ava and Mia," she continued, her voice filled with a quiet pride. "And they’re already so different. Ava's a little more serious, very observant. She’ll just stare at you intensely, like she's figuring out your whole life story. Mia, on the other hand… well, Mia's a little comedian."

A soft laugh escaped her lips, a sound both light and happy. "The other day," she recounted, her eyes twinkling, "we were trying to give them a bath. It’s always a bit of a production, right? Lots of screaming and splashing. Well, Mia, in the midst of all the chaos, managed to grab a rubber ducky and completely submerge it in the soapy water, then proceed to drink the soapy water from the duck’s little mouth. It was absolutely disgusting, but also… hilarious."

Billie chuckled again, her shoulders shaking with laughter. The studio audience mirrored her amusement, their laughter a ripple of shared joy.

"Y/N and I just looked at each other," Billie recounted, "and started laughing. It was utter mayhem, but it was also pure, unadulterated joy. It’s moments like that, the messy, crazy moments, that I treasure the most. It's the stuff that makes the everyday incredible."

She paused, her expression softening. "They’re my whole world. Y/N and I, we’re learning as we go, but the love… it’s something I never knew existed, you know? It’s overwhelming, but in the best possible way. I never thought I could feel this much love for anyone or anything."

***

1 Year Olds:

Billie sat comfortably, radiating a quiet contentment that was far removed from her sometimes enigmatic public persona. The interviewer, a seasoned professional, smiled warmly.

"Billie," he began, "Happy belated birthday to your twin daughters! Ava and Mia just turned one."

Billie's face lit up. "Thank you!" she replied, her voice soft and full of warmth. "It was such a special day." She paused, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "It’s hard to believe they’re already a year old. It feels like just yesterday we were bringing them home from the hospital."

She launched into a description of Ava and Mia’s first birthday party, her voice brimming with affection. "We kept it pretty small," she explained. "Just close family and friends. Y/N and I planned everything together – it was a real team effort." A soft blush colored her cheeks as she mentioned her wife.

"We had a little 'twins' theme," she continued, her eyes sparkling. "We made sure there were plenty of toys, soft blankets and lots of delicious, baby-friendly food. Ava and Mia mostly just stared at everything with wide eyes. Ava seemed fascinated by the balloons. Mia mostly wanted to try and eat everything, even the flowers!" She chuckled, a warm, melodic sound that filled the studio.

"The cake," she said, her voice softening, "was the best part. A double-decker, each layer decorated differently. We had a little photoshoot, but they were more interested in grabbing the frosting!"

Billie's voice took on a sweeter tone as she recounted a particular moment. "Y/N captured this amazing picture of Ava reaching out and grabbing Mia's hand. It was so pure and sweet, it made me cry." Her usual guarded demeanor was gone; in its place, a tender and profoundly loving mother glowed through. "It was a really special moment. It perfectly captured the essence of what having twins is like – this beautiful, messy, and chaotic love."

The interviewer nodded, his gaze gentle and understanding.

Billie concluded with a soft sigh, a faraway look in her eyes. "It was the most perfect day. Being able to celebrate our beautiful girls with the people we love, all under one roof… it doesn't get much better than that."

***

18 Months Old:

The gently slow radiating off Billie was palpable. Gone was the usual edgy attire; she was dressed in something soft and comfortable, her hair pulled back in a simple style. She looked relaxed, content, and utterly radiant. The interviewer smiled warmly.

"Billie," he began, "your twin daughters, Ava and Mia, are about to turn two. Can you believe it?"

Billie's eyes widened slightly, a mixture of disbelief and wonder in their depths. "I can't," she breathed, her voice hushed with emotion. "It feels like just yesterday they were tiny newborns. Now they're running around, exploring the world, getting into everything!" A gentle laugh escaped her lips, a sound full of love and wonder.

She described Ava and Mia's personalities, her voice soft and tender. "Ava is still our little observer. She's so thoughtful, always watching, taking everything in. Mia… well, Mia is still our little comedian. She's always cracking us up, getting into mischief. She just loves making faces and being silly!"

The interviewer nodded, prompting her to continue.

Billie's gaze softened as she talked about her wife, Y/N. "Y/N is incredible," she said, her voice filled with reverence and love. "As a partner, she's my rock. She’s my best friend, my confidante, my everything. And as a mother? She’s simply extraordinary. She’s so patient, so loving, so incredibly strong. Seeing her with Ava and Mia fills my heart with so much joy. She’s an amazing mother. I’m so lucky to have her."

Billie’s usual guarded demeanor seemed to completely melt away. She spoke with such genuine warmth and affection, a tenderness that radiated through the studio. Her eyes shone with a soft glow, conveying a depth of emotion rarely glimpsed in her public appearances.

"These past eighteen months have been the most challenging, yet most rewarding of my life," she confessed. "There are moments of utter exhaustion, moments of frustration, moments where I feel completely overwhelmed. But there are so many moments of pure, unadulterated joy that make it all worthwhile. Every tiny milestone, every giggle, every cuddle… it's all worth it. They’re perfect, both of them."

***

2 Years Old:

The interviewer smiled softly. “Billie," he started, "your twin daughters, Ava and Mia, just turned two. What’s that like?"

Billie smiled, a genuine, heartwarming smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. "It's…intense," she admitted, her voice soft and warm. "The terrible twos are definitely living up to their name! It's a rollercoaster of emotions – pure joy, utter chaos, and everything in between. But seeing them reach these milestones is so incredible, it makes all the challenges worth it."

She recounted a recent moment with a proud chuckle. "Just yesterday, Ava finally figured out how to stack her blocks. She was so proud of herself, and watching her tiny face light up with accomplishment melted my heart. And Mia? Oh, Mia finally mastered walking backwards. She thinks it's the funniest thing ever." She shook her head, a mixture of amusement and love in her eyes.

The interviewer nodded, encouraging her to continue.

Billie's gaze softened as she turned to talk about her wife, Y/N. "Y/N is my hero," she said, her voice filled with deep admiration. "She's so amazing with them. She’s the calm amidst the storm. Seriously, I don’t know what I’d do without her. We’re a team, a real partnership. Y/N is not just an incredible mother, but also my best friend and my greatest source of support. Watching her navigate motherhood with such grace and patience is truly inspiring. She's just incredible."

She paused, reflecting for a moment. "Motherhood is the most challenging and rewarding experience of my life. It's exhausting, messy, and frequently overwhelming. But there's this unbelievable joy, this unbreakable bond, that makes it all worthwhile. Ava and Mia are teaching me so much about love, patience, and resilience. It's beautiful, really."

A gentle tear escaped her eye, and she quickly brushed it away with a self-deprecating smile. "I’m a mess, aren't I?" she whispered. But there was no embarrassment, only a profound and beautiful vulnerability, a testament to the overwhelming love she felt for her family. The interview became less of a professional engagement and more a tender sharing of her life's most profound joys, a heart-warming glimpse into the life of a devoted mother and wife, blissfully in love with her family.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

♦️ Platonic Ciel x Older Brother Figure?

Say Ciel has a close coworker, family friend or even a servant who is a few years older then him (15-17, teenage age around), and one night Ciel is having a panic attack.

IN SWOOPS OLDER BROTHER FIGURE TO THE RESCUE

Bonus points if the reader knows about Sebastian and refuses to let him around Ciel when the kid is vulnerable

Pairings: None

Warnings: Male!reader, servant!reader, hurt/comfort, panic attack comfort, reader's past is implied to be a bit dark

The night was calm — a few clouds passing in front of the moon, bringing it in and out of view, a chilly breeze fluttering the curtains by the open window, and the sound of silence presiding over everything in and around the Phantomhive Estate. Yet, you couldn't shake this odd feeling stirring in your stomach.

Something didn't feel quite right…but what?

Was this nagging feeling because you forgot one of your duties? Thinking back through your day, you recount all of your chores as a mental checklist and nothing seems amiss there.

Was there an important event tomorrow that you need to wake up extra early for? No, no one mentioned anything about any meeting or public figure visiting tomorrow.

It was really starting to give you a headache now… everything was in its place, but this gut feeling was beginning to make you nauseous. You know something's not right; somewhere in this place.

You mulled over your next course of action—eyes darting around like you were watching a mosquito fly right in front of your face—and finally settled on your next move: you'll take a quick walk around the manor. Down a couple hallways, by the young master's bedroom. Just a quick pass, make sure he's safe and asleep, then you'll wait and see how you feel after that.

Keeping quiet when you're worried isn't particularly easy to do, but you do try to avoid the creaky floorboards, and make use of the rugs to muffle your footsteps. Master Ciel's door was just a few steps away; all you have to do is stand outside and listen.

…

…

…

“Can't… I can't…”

A sob came from the other side of the door, and that was all you needed for your protective nature to make you spring into action. You knocked on the door lightly, “Master? Are you alright?”

As you knocked, the door slowly opened wide enough for you to make out two figures; the young master, sitting upright on his bed, and the head butler, Sebastian, kneeling in front of him. Ciel is clutching his chest, staring at the floor with shaking, unfocused eyes as Sebastian notices your presence.

The raven haired butler turns his head towards you, and you question “Sebastian, what's going on?”

“It seems that the young master had a terrible nightmare.” he explains, “What on Earth are you still doing up, y/n?”

You turn your gaze downward before answering “W-well… I had this strange feeling that something was a bit off. I just… just wanted to make sure the master was ok before I turned in.” your voice came out a bit shakier than you intended it to, but how could it not when you're so worried about him?

Sebastian gives a soft, assuring smile as he speaks. “I see, what good intuition you have there. However, I have the situation taken care of, so you can rest soundly n–”

“Um… can I… handle this one?” you interrupt. The head butler looks surprised to hear you ask something so bold, giving a whispered 'what' in return.

“I have experience with this kind of thing. I think I can help.” you smile sheepishly, half ashamed to even admit that out loud. You meet Sebastian's gaze and it's obvious that he's skeptical—you can practically see his mind pondering the offer behind his ruby eyes—but he sees something in you that proves you're being truthful right now. He motions for you to enter, then steps out, shutting the door with a 'click' as he leaves.

Your attention turns back to Ciel. The sight of your younger master is worrisome, yet all too familiar — heavy, labored breathing, unfocused eyes, face covered in sweat, and little awareness of his surroundings; he is, indeed, experiencing a panic attack of sorts.

You cautiously sit next to him on the bed, speaking with a gentle tone so you won't startle him, “Young master, it's alright, you're awake now. Whatever happened in that dream is over.”

While his breathing remains ragged and hurried, you pick up on the way his head turns toward you slightly, as if acknowledging your presence and paying attention to your words, at least a little. “Can you try to take a deep breath with me? Follow my count; breathe in… and out… One more time, in… and out…” Ciel is able to mimic you for the most part, his inhale stutters a bit, but this has already helped to prevent more hyperventilating.

“Good job! That's not always easy, I know.” you reassure, smiling solemnly as flashes of your past reappear in your mind. “Would you like my hand? You can squeeze it if you need to, it won't hurt me, I promise.” you laugh.

Ciel's gaze is fixed on your outstretched hand. While you are still in uniform, your gloves are missing. He reaches out, grabbing your hand as he trembles unwillingly. That little bit of human connection is so foreign to the young child — most of the time, the comforting touch comes from a gloved hand, which feels all too distant; too… lonely.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

His grip tightened at the suggestion. “…No…”

Immediately reinforcing his boundaries, you reply “That's alright, you don't have to. But if you change your mind, not a word of it will leave this room, I swear it on my honor as a Phantomhive butler.”

The young master shakily exhales, and though he doesn't reply back, you're sure he understands the truth in your promise.

You ponder your next move for a second, peeking at the door to Ciel's room to make sure there's no crack between it and the doorframe. Once you're sure that the head butler isn't spying on you, you lean in and whisper “I know it's late, and I'm sure you've already had your teeth brushed, but…” a small piece of chocolate is slowly pulled from your front coat pocket as you ask, “would something sweet help?”

The young master blinks a few times, a little dumbfounded as he wonders “Do you always keep sweets on your person?”

“Mm, I do now. After all, you never know when a bit of emergency chocolate will come in handy.” You joke. You've been trying to convince yourself that this habit didn't form solely because of your new master — that it was beneficial to keep a few treats on hand in case you run into an upset child on the street, or any child, really — but, in truth, the young master was the person on your mind when you initially made the decision.

You sat in mildly uncomfortable silence for a moment before speaking again. “It appears you've calmed down quite a bit. How are you feeling now?”

Ciel stares at the candy in his hand, speaking more in his usual tone. “Better.”

“Very good,” you sign in relief, “I'm glad to hear that.” your smile turns into a frown as you ask, “Um, Master, would you like to be alone now? I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome or prevent you from falling asleep…”

“NO!” the younger boy exclaims. With the speed at which he turned towards you, you're afraid he may have pulled something. “Stay… please stay…” he croaks.

His sudden brashness startles you—all you can do is stare into his misty eyes as he pleads with you. “O-oh, sorry… If you really want me to stay, then I will!” this appears to ease the tension as Ciel loosens his grip on your hand. “But… you should at least get under the covers again, young master. Lest you fall asleep right here and catch a cold.”

Ciel relents, but only after you promise again to stay with him. You help him climb underneath the soft sheets and begin to tuck him in when he says “I… want you to… ahem… to sit with me.”

“O-oh! I can do that–” you attempt to sit on the edge of the bed again, but your young master stops you, correcting his statement.

“No, I meant under the covers… with me…” The request sounds so unlike the Ciel Phantomhive you know, and yet, you sense the earnestness behind every word. Besides, how are you going to turn down his request when he's staring through you with puffy, red eyes? He's not even calling for Sebastian either, like he usually does for all of his problems—small or large.

“…Young Master, I'm still wearing shoes, won't they–”

“Just get in!” he sighs, exasperated. At this point, you have more than enough confirmation that he's fine with this. So, you lift up the sheets long enough to scoot in next to him, sitting stiffly as your shoulder brushes against your master's.

Silence hangs in the air, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere until Ciel speaks up, in a small voice. “When you mentioned having experience with this earlier, what did you mean by that?”

You turn toward him, surprised. “You heard that? I mean– you remember when I said that?” The fact that Master Ciel not only paid attention to, but is interested in something that you said is definitely a foreign situation. Nevertheless, you begin explaining, “Well, you see… I have quite some experience with night terrors–”

As you speak, Ciel slowly leans on your shoulder, not once interrupting your story. “At one point, I would have them every single night… I felt like I was going mad. One moment, I was huddled under my blanket, and the next, all of my past demons came to haunt me. I thought it might never end.” you yawn, leaning your head over until it rests on top of the young master's head. “But, you know something? My nightmares have lessened after working here…” another long, hard yawn, making it impossible for you to keep your eyes open any longer. “…I feel like… I can let my past go…and…finally have… a purpose…”

Silence once again fills the room — a much more gentle silence this time, as Ciel drifts off, and you drift off with him, comfortable in each other's presence.

[resident-idiot-simp]

Please for your enjoyment imagen Logan finding a young freshly mutated feral mutant who ran away from home out of fear one day he was walking Mary.

Logan is so sympathetic because he has been there and it's terrifying all your senses getting dialed up to 11 and all new instincts is scary. He ends up sitting with them for a while and just talking and recounting his few memories about how scary it was for him (he's mad he can't remember more because it's helping the kid). He tells stories Laura told him about her own experience as well.

The kid slowly relaxed and ends up crawling into Logan's lap as Logan tells stories about Wade who has a damn lazer toy for cats that makes him go insane.

He ends up bringing the kid back to his and Wade's apartment and asks the kid about there parents. The parents weren't anti-mutant thankfully the kid was just scared. Logan and Wade end up getting the kid back to there parents and if Logan ends up with a kid who he starts training well that's his business.

(x)