#might totally rebut it for all i know

[marley-manson]

Stepping into the traditional role of hero seems a feminist triumph to many; however, it also arguably masculinizes Xena, suggesting that for women to become heroic they must become, in effect, men.

I originally went on a rant about this sentiment but it just felt like stating the obvious about how masculinity and femininity are bullshit oppressive categories that aren't actually or ~effectively~ prerequisites of gender, so allow me to just say:

🙄🙄🙄

[munson-blurbs]

Can I request something with Eddie x reader in a long term relationship. They didn’t meet until their mid to late 20s. maybe they are out to dinner one time with his old highschool buddies and she hears them joke about how eddie always wanted to fuck a cheer leader. she gets the bright idea to buy a cheer leader out fit with a tiny skirt and pom poms and wears it for him one day

Oh, now this is what I'm talking about. Written with the gorgeous queen of fluffy smut, @corroded-hellfire 💚

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (m! receiving), unprotected p in v, Reader wears a cheerleading uniform, mention of Eddie's crush on Chrissy

WC: 1.8k

Divider credit to @saradika

It’s not the first time you’ve met any of the guys from your boyfriend’s old Hellfire gang. It is the first time that you’ve been around them as a group, though. They’re much louder in a pack—not necessarily trying to shout, just be heard over the guy who is telling a story next to them. 

The guys are funny though and you’re enjoying getting a glimpse of what High School Eddie was like from those who got to experience it first hand. It wasn’t terribly long ago that they were all in high school together; you’re all only in your twenties. But Eddie seems to groan every time there’s a reminder that the youngest guys in the group can legally drink now. 

“So tell me more about this hellion during his younger years,” you say with a laugh, draping an arm over his denim-clad shoulders. “Because he claims to have been a total badass, but he’s such a teddy bear.” To emphasize your point, you smack a wet kiss to his cheek. 

Eddie blushes but doesn’t wipe it off; instead, he tilts your chin till you’re facing him and kisses you until the group throws wadded-up paper napkins at you both. 

“This guy was definitely not a teddy bear,” Lucas says. “I asked him to postpone one Hellfire meeting so I could play in the championship basketball game, and he put me on probation!”

You look at Eddie, slack-jawed. “Eds!” you chastise him teasingly. 

“It was the last campaign of the year!” Eddie rebuts. “Actions have consequences, Sinclair.”

Lucas rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his drink, using his free hand to flip off his friend. 

Dustin cackles at the exchange. “Yeah, he was pretty much an asshole to everyone.” His voice is mischievous as he waggles his eyebrows and adds, “except Chrissy Cunningham.”

“Ooh,” you mimic Dustin’s playful tone. “And who is Chrissy Cunningham?”

“Head cheerleader, cute and blonde, super sweet to, like, everybody,” Mike pipes up.

Eddie gets flustered, not because Chrissy was brought up, but he thinks hearing about his crush on her might upset or annoy you. He sputters over his words, which just riles him up even more. 

“I don’t think we need to, uh, talk about that,” Eddie says, shaking his head.

“Why? What happened?” you ask with a frown. It was no secret between you and Eddie that neither of you were popular in high school and had crushes that went unrequited. But Eddie never told you about anything particularly bad happening between him and a cheerleader.

“What?” Eddie asks before realizing what you mean. “Oh, no! Nothing happened. We spoke maybe a handful of times ever. I just didn’t think this would be something you would want to hear about…”

Eddie brow pinches in worry but you just laugh and wave a dismissive hand.

“Eddie, come on. Who wouldn’t have a crush on the sweet, pretty cheerleader? I mean, I had a thing for my school’s star basketball player back in the day. You know that.”

Lucas laughs. “You definitely would’ve hated the star basketball player at our school.”

“Kid was a total douche,” Jeff adds. “Made these obnoxious, over-the-top speeches that had everybody rolling their eyes.”

“So, like Eddie, but athletic,” Gareth chimes in, putting his hands up in surrender when Eddie shoots him a look and then breaks into a grin. 

The waiter brings out a chocolate cake, loudly singing Happy Birthday to Eddie, which promptly puts a stop to their bickering and taunting. The guys lock in on the dessert, serving Eddie the first slice before turning into barbarians over the second. 

You finally manage to snag a slice among the chaos, but your mind is elsewhere. If Eddie was as into cheerleaders like his friends claim, you might be able to finagle one last birthday surprise.

A week passes from the dinner-turned-impromptu-Hellfire-meeting. Eddie saunters through the door, tossing his keys on the counter. 

“Babe? You home?” His hair is kept in a low bun; it’s easier to work on cars with it out of his face. 

“In the bedroom!” you call back from behind a half-closed door. 

Eddie kicks his boots off in the general direction of the welcome mat. “How was your day, sweetheart?” he asks as he walks down the hallway towards your room. “Mine was pretty good. I just—holy shit.” He comes to a halt in the doorway, jaw dropping open as he stares at you. 

You lounge on the bed waiting for him, a green and white cheerleading uniform on. There wasn’t one with some yellow on it as well like Hawkins High’s had when you’d gone looking, but you didn’t think your boyfriend would mind. 

He stands frozen and it makes you let out a small giggle before trying to regain the seductive air you’d been going for. 

“Wh…What’s all this?” he manages, caught completely off-guard by your outfit of choice. 

“Just your own personal cheerleader,” you say nonchalantly, crooking your finger and beckoning him over. “Wanna see my pom-poms?”

His grin nearly splits his face in two. “Yeah—wait, do you mean, like, actual ones, or…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Ah, fuck it.” He grabs you and pulls you onto his lap. 

“So, do I get to see a cheer?” he asks with a smirk. “A little, ‘two-four-six-eight, who do we appreciate?’”

You kiss his neck and murmur, “kinda figured my mouth would be busy somewhere else.” Your lips down the pale expanse of bis torso and you unbuckle his belt. 

Eddie groans and leans back against the headboard, eagerly watching you. He lifts his hips enough so you can slide his pants and boxers all the way off and toss them aside. 

You make sure to keep your gaze locked on his as you start to stroke him, using his pre-cum to lubricate your palm. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

He inhales sharply, trying to remain focused. “Need you to suck me off.”

You get on your knees in front of him so he can see down your uniform top, and he twitches against your lips. Flattening your tongue against the base of his shaft, you lick up to the head and wrap your lips around the tip before slowly taking him into your warm, wet mouth. 

“Fuuuuuck,” Eddie breathes out, throwing his head back and exposing his Adam’s apple. “Thassit, just like that.”

The tang of pre-cum is salty on your tongue, and you lap it up gratefully. Your fingers dig into the flesh of his ass as you pull him towards you, your nose grazing his pubic hair. 

“So good, goddamn, honey,” he mumbles, more gibberish than logic, “take me so well. Givin’ me the best fuckin’ head of my life.”

You’re more than happy to continue this, cheeks hollowed and tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, eagerly anticipating his cum down your throat. 

Eddie has other plans. 

He begrudgingly steps back, his throbbing cock thwacking against his stomach. If he pulls out of a blowjob, it usually means—

“Bend over, princess.”

You do as he says, palms pressed into the mattress. He quickly flips up your skirt, exposing your bare ass. 

Eddie laughs triumphantly. “Oh, fuck yes.” He taps the head of his length against it before pushing down on your back, giving him a better view of your pussy. “Mine,” he growls in your ear. 

The moan that tumbles out of your lips from his words only increases tenfold when he pushes inside of you. It makes Eddie smirk in satisfaction as his hands grip your hips beneath the pleats of the skirt. His eyes slip closed as he loses himself in the feeling of you around his cock. 

You whine as Eddie bottoms out, fingers grasping at the blanket below you. “God, Eddie, yes.”

Eddie’s thrusts gain momentum and he pulls your hips back against him for every one, never missing a beat. “Shit, you’re so fucking good for me. Your pussy’s so goddamn tight, fuck.” 

“Mhm, uh-huh.” The drag of his cock against your walls leaves you speechless, only able to whine, no coherent thoughts in your head. 

“My cheerleader feels good, huh? Aw, baby,” he coos, “so good you can’t even talk, yeah?”

Even if you had the capability to answer, you wouldn’t have time before Eddie pulls out of you for the second time today and flips you onto your back. Your legs fall open for him immediately in this new position and he wastes no time pushing back into you. 

He leans over your body, slipping his hands up the top half of your uniform. “Most beautiful cheerleader I ever fuckin’ saw,” he purrs as his hands grope your chest.

Your legs wrap around his body, only pulling him deeper inside of you. “So good,” you slur, eyes half-lidded. You feel your orgasm crash over you, waves of pleasure rippling through your body. 

Eddie’s hands slip out of your top and run down your arms until he laces his fingers with yours. He lifts your hands over your head, keeping a tight grip on you as his hips pick up the pace. Now that you came, he can take what he needs. 

“So tight,” he mumbles, breathing heavily. You can tell that he’s close. “Gonna cum all over this pretty little uniform of yours, ‘kay?”

You can only nod, and he leans in and kisses you one last time before pulling out and painting you in his release. Sticky warmth coats the exposed strip of flesh between the top and skirt, some of it staining the uniform’s fabric. He moans out your name as he jerks the last of his spend out of his cock.

“Holy shit,” he exhales, drinking in the sight of you in your cheerleader outfit and covered in his cum. His sexy cheerleader wearing his cum. The thought has him almost up for another round already. 

He leans over to the nightstand and reaches for a tissue to clean you up, but you wave him off. Your hand catches his wrist and you softly run your fingertips up to his elbow.

“Leave it,” you tell him with a smirk. “I want it to stain.” You’ll wake up in the morning to it dried on the uniform, a reminder of tonight.

“Goddamn, baby.” Eddie lets out a breathy chuckle and flops down next to you, completely exhausted. “I was not expecting this, but I’m certainly not complaining.” 

“Well,” you say, a teasing lilt in your voice. You push up onto one elbow, and gaze at him knowingly. His hair is a mess, his chest is rising and falling rapidly. He looks wrecked, and it’s a beautiful sight. “You’d better drink some Gatorade, babe. Because this is only halftime.”

--

[wandagcre]

hii ive been down bad for kate bishop fics lately 😓😓. can i request a oneshot of dom intersex kate bishop just fucking reader but shes just as needy as reader? oh and maybe some choking and breeding cause why not 🤭🤭 thank youu!

better than the rest | kate bishop 🔞

(Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader)

Your partner as of late called it quits with you. Kate was concerned, insisting to check up on you. With the warmth she always had provided, you can't help but think of other ways she can comfort you.

WARNING: top!kate, kate has a penis, bottom!reader, self-loathing (r), p in v, unprotected sex, car sex, choking, breeding - not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 4.6k

“I think it’s for the best if we break up.”

Was what your partner said while hesitant to meet your eyes. It snapped you back into consciousness that your gaze on them fluttered rapidly in wonder. Yes, undeniably, there was a hint of sadness that hit you. After all, you dated them for half a year, it was… stable. No, rather it was stagnant, so you supposed this was bound to happen.

However, with your silence and clenched fist, your now ex-partner mistook it as deep despair.

They carefully placed their hand atop yours across the table. “I’m sorry–”

“You don’t have to be,” You cut them off, sighing in resignation. The acceptance somewhat came in quickly to your surprise. “I do not want to weigh you down at all, especially when it comes to your happiness. I-I… truly understand where you’re coming from.”

A faint smile appears on their face. You return the expression, wanting to ease the tension. You wanted a civil conversation where they could easily say the thoughts that they might have been withholding. You had your own as well. From there, the two of you discuss what went wrong – you simply drifted away from each other, inevitably with the long distance as another obstacle. The infatuation stage didn’t last – your relationship was too casual for someone who should be lovers. 

As the conversation ran, the air felt lighter. You didn’t realize how much you missed them but this further confirmed that you and now current ex, worked better as friends. The notion of breakup was mutual and amicable between you two and turned out better than you both hoped for. 

What caught you off-guard as you parted ways, was how your ex mentioned a certain friend of yours.

“Say hi to Kate for me! That girl is always on your rescue.” They gleefully say with a pat on your back and a knowing smile.

You froze for a moment at the sudden mention of the Avenger but managed to form a cohesive reply. “Sure. I’ll make sure she doesn’t send pitchforks or arrows on your way.”

“That’s very much appreciated!”

The two of you ended up giggling as you waved goodbye and a part of you remained stunned. Your heart was pounding, as though a dormant thought had come back to life.

It has been a week since you were available on the market again and you received mixed responses. You wanted to laugh, at how some disapproved and agreed that you and your ex were simply different. When you rebutted that technically, opposites attract, your close ones were quick to say: totally inapplicable to this case!

Your family knew how you’ve grown close to Kate; and seriously, they kept mentioning the woman! You lost count of how many times you’ve become flustered each time they lumped you and shrugged the thought that maybe you two had a great chemistry together. But in all seriousness, things were easy with Kate – the archer somewhat managed to juggle you in her time, between Avenging and college, your dynamic was far from you and your ex. All it took was the fateful encounter you guys had at a hardware store you part-timed in, attending to her questions, and Kate charming you with her clumsy rambling self. 

Why do you keep comparing her now with your ex? Screw these insinuations, now you cannot stop thinking about the other possibilities.

And speaking of the devil, the archer finally had her well-deserved free time. Said through the phone that the aliens and gods can handle the potential storm for a while, to which you were surprised to hear, knowing that she took Avenging duties seriously close to her heart. Unbeknownst to you, all it took from Kate was your break-up news and it immediately filled her with concern. She was far too occupied even if it was only a few days, setting aside her feelings for you, Kate wondered how you were holding up.

“Get in sweetcakes.” Kate hollered from her rolled-up car window as you waited in front of the hardware store. Your shift just ended. You shook your head at how corny it was, although it was endearing enough to make your insides fuzzy. 

“Not if you call me that one more time.”

It only occurred to you that it was a bad idea as soon as you saw the glint of mischief in Kate’s eyes, hands on the side of her mouth, ready to scream.

“Sweetcakes! Sweetcakes, Sweet–”

“Stop embarrassing me, Jesus.” You get inside her car, rubbing your palms together to warm you down. Kate chuckled at your feigned display of annoyance. It was certainly her favorite pastime.

The drizzle had stopped. The familiar afternoon glow wasn’t there, instead replaced with grey skies, giving a gloomy ambiance in the chilly weather. Yet, it barely affected the natural state of Kate’s aura – her bright disposition and smile giving you warmth.

Blood rushed on your cheeks and ears as you realize you’ve been taking quick peeks to your friend’s side profile.

Kate cleared her throat, “Actually, I prefer to be called Kate.” You give her another displeased look. “Fine, I relent. So are we going to talk about it now?” Kate shook her head sideways, urging you to elaborate. She leaned comfortably on the driver’s seat, prepared for a long story time before you guys hit off the parking lot. You were casual – too casual – as though this was another Monday for you. 

Break-ups aren’t normally this way, right?

“What was what? Can’t I get a hi first?”

“Hi.” Kate says unamused. “Now, I was worried the whole time. I know we’ve talked on the phone but I’m not fully convinced ‘til I hear from you.”

“Aw, so you were thinking of me?” You tease Kate who’s cheeks flamed up yet you did not notice as she pushed you off playfully. 

She groaned. “Come on. I’m sure break-ups are commonly followed by crying and drinking afterward. Not… this!” Kate gestures at you, hands flailing at your almost poker face. “Or have you recovered already? Because that’s either an impressive world record or a bunch of bullshit to me.”

You chuckle at the unending questions being thrown at each other. Now you figured out how you sounded odd. 

For the sake of her inner peace, you decide to let it out. “Look, Kate, it was meant to end at some point for us. I mean, when was the last time I hung out with them? I don’t see them a lot, we don’t feel the spark anymore. I’m almost always hanging out with you. There isn’t any bad blood. I guess we just fell out – not compatible anymore.”

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously.” You look at her straight to her ocean eyes that you love. Wait, what? “I don’t… I don’t think I’m missing out on the relationship department because, in the first place, I haven’t been getting any action.”

Kate awkwardly chuckled at your words, tugging on the collar of her shirt. 

“Uh, that I cannot fix. I’m sorry?”

You laugh at the archer’s response. Taking a good look over Kate’s outfit, you see that she’s particularly dressed up today – indicating that she had business to attend over her family’s company. She wore a black suit patterned with an embroidered burnt orange design. She was a treat in your eyes.

Were you shamelessly checking her out?

Yes, very much so.

Kate, however, wasn’t as clueless as you thought. She lets you and plans on teasing you about it. Even if it was out of curiosity or an innocent admiration, the archer wouldn’t tell you – at least for a couple more hundred years – how she loved being the subject of your attention. It didn’t help that your being single again had spurred her mind on the gutters and honestly made you more desirable at the moment. However, Kate refused to delve into them right now – out of respect as your friend first.

"Would you be interested in hooking up with me?” You sultry uttered.

The air within the car felt thick and a pin drop could almost be heard. You shook your head in disappointment to yourself – God, of course, this wasn’t very proper of you to ambush Kate like that. Her silence was very telling. You caught the archer real good, flabbergasted, and can barely formulate a proper word out of her pretty mouth. Nodding at this, you understood that it was too much – forward and probably disrespectful.

You start buckling your seatbelt.

“No, no I get it. Don’t worry, Kate. Let’s just get out of here and–”

Kate was quick to shake her head in disagreement, "No baby, you don’t understand,” The archer’s voice sounded desperate. She did not even realize how the endearment smoothly left her lips. “You're all I wanted! But that doesn't matter right now, you just got out of a relationship–"

“–I told you it wasn’t built to last. I guess it’s a talent of mine, I can’t keep things to stay.” You say out of attempted humor, although your mind had flipped into a different perspective now, the thought was very unsettling. 

Can’t you?

"It’s normal! Nothing goes perfect on the first few tries,” Kate sputtered out, desperate to provide an ounce of solace. “Just like with cooking, we burn stuff, end up ordering takeout. Or- or me with my things. You know how many times my messy self can misplace a lot of things.” Especially my hoodies. I swear they keep disappearing on me, the thought suddenly coming into light to Kate. Whatever, she hoped that in a way, she managed to lighten up the conversation. 

One thing about Kate is that her rambling and playful nature combined somewhat grows into this charismatic mess. A giggle almost erupts out of you but clearly, there is another time and place for that.

“Well, you do keep losing your keys.”

“Exactly.”

“And you’re notorious for parading around while wearing The Ronin’s suit and coming back to your apartment.”

“Ouch. Not my brightest moment I’ll admit. But at least you’re getting my point!”

Finally registering her words, you rolled your eyes now good-heartedly to Kate’s relief. "And if you’re wondering about your hoodies, no they are not lost. I may or may not have some of them.” You admit your crime and Kate comically jutted her head closer to you in shock. It’s like you read her mind. “Not bad for a pep talk, Bishop. But I guess we’re not fucking, are we?”

Now the last sentence had Kate gripping her seat, not expecting your unfiltered spew of words. Would it be bad if she were to admit that her cock twitched at the thought of having you?

But your comfort comes first. She worried that a speck of insecurity could have been plaguing you, wanting to ease that more than ever. While you peered at the window seat, the archer exhaled, scooting to your side – at least the most she could, anyway.

"Give me your hand." Kate's elbow rested in the middle of the car compartment, where her jug is confined, her palm extended for an invitation for you to hold. "Come on, you big baby.”

You take the chance, petulantly placing yours atop hers.

"What now, gonna take the rejection easy on me?" You raise an eyebrow, looking away from her. "Or is it another one of your pranks? Kate, I'm telling you I can take rejections like a big girl despite your disagreement. It was a dumb proposition. Just forget it." You try to act unphased but the grumble gives you out. The feeling slowly sinks you further into humiliation.

Why would you ask your good friend for a good time?

Kate feels the laughter begging to erupt out of her chest. Still, she doesn't, knowing that you might take it the wrong way. God, you were so adorable. "You're not getting it, always so stubborn."

You feel her squeezing your hand. 

"Yada, yada. Just drive, Kate."

Kate's hands remained interlaced with yours even with your curt reply. Eyes curious over you. Even with your mind far away, they have always been so expressive and raw which makes it tenfold difficult to look directly – all tender and equally needy as you, only if you took the chance and looked.

She admits timidly, "I want to. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment just to kiss you. But I cannot afford to be your second choice, just because it is convenient. I don't want it to be a casual thing!" Her voice bounced off a pitch-higher.

You bit your lip in contemplation. Kate doesn't take her eyes on you nor disrupt the short comfortable silence that lingered. Her hands come to thread through your tresses, admiring you out in the open now.

How could you not have seen it earlier?

It would have saved you a lot more time. One that couldn't have gone to waste. Kate has always been worth your while. Meanwhile, the said woman was stunned. Kate's throat was almost caught in a lump, in disbelief that she got to pour an ounce of her confession. She can't help but rub your sides soothingly – in hopes of calming your turbulent mind.

You unexpectedly move away from your seat, determined to plop yourself on Kate's lap. You swung your legs atop her and a tremendous surprise struck the archer; she could not grasp the uncharted territory being crossed. 

Having you so intimately? Kate was going to combust.

"Huh. It's a good thing that I specifically don't intend it to be a one-time thing." You place your forefinger on Kate's plush lips. "No, I don't expect this to be a casual thing either. I'm sorry if I didn't see the signs earlier..." 

Her ocean eyes had a glint of hope, her heart thrumming madly at the next words that would leave your lips. "So you're saying...?"

"Take what's yours, Bishop." You moved closer, arms dangled between her headrest. You comb through her jet black hair, her attention hopelessly hooked onto you. Inching further to her ear, you husk out, "Do me like you mean it."

She sharply inhaled. 

“I’ll make it worth your time.”

You answer her with a tease, wiggling your hips forward so slightly, her ocean eyes melting at the motion.

She takes one last look to find traces of an ounce of possible regret and retreats from your offer, only to see the unadulterated need in the swirls of your darkening eyes.

Kate's grasp over your hips tightened mouth agape over your affirmation. Her cock was no longer flaccid, instead, it started to strain through her jeans. You feel her and your cunt throbs madly. She was clutching over the layers of your clothing, now eager to take them all off. All she ever craved was to worship you, for you to finally notice her – to take you as she means it – just as your green light urged her to do so.  

Both your lips clashed, tilting on the opposite side, excited to get a taste of what both of you were missing out on. It was no longer as hesitant and awkward as the chaste kiss that you initiated a few minutes ago. You taste the faint traces of her favorite coffee that caused you to smile. The cramped space was overwhelmingly filled with tension and adrenaline; Kate rode along as you did and happily explored your mouth – her tongue swiping sensually along your lower lip and catching you in another bruising kiss again, to which you enthusiastically let out a guttural moan at.

"I’m so drunk on you right now..." Kate muttered, her voice dropping a few octaves. You ground harder in response, moving languidly against her as the kiss continued. 

Her scent was alluring more than ever. You claw at the back of her neck, fingers tangled in her silky tresses. “Then, consider this definitely worth the hangover.” You moan sultrily in Kate’s open mouth - both of your sounds crashing.

Lips bruising and breathless at this point, Kate reluctantly pulled away to adjust her car seat. It was hilarious and endearing for you how she kept smiling between your kisses and the archer kept on chasing for your lips. Even with her numbing lips, she scattered open mouthed kisses all over your jaw and neck, your whole body set ablaze.

“No backing out now.” Kate returns the equally seductive tone, her vulnerability poorly hidden underneath her assertive act.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,”

“Good.”

You feel Kate clawing the fabric of your shirt underneath the bunched up jacket of yours. the way her nails dug desperately had made you buckle over her lap, bodies pressed more than ever, making the two of you moan. 

"You feel so good against me," Kate murmured breathlessly. "I can't get enough of this." she confesses with much candor, eyes gleaming at you that it sends shivers down your spine.

You were plopped down on her lap, swollen lips, and you wanted nothing but her. Kate cannot express enough how her heart feels like it was going to burst out of her ribcage.

"Is that so?" The husk and rawness in her voice made your stomach flip, breaking out a small smile out of you. "I bet you regret it..." your hands that no longer cradled her jaw found their way instead to graze downwards underneath her fancy suit, nails digging on Kate's fine abdomen. "Regret how you said no to me earlier."

The firm muscles grow tense under your touch, making you smirk. you had the Bishop woman successfully loss at words. She only hummed, seemingly lost and busied herself through littering your jaw and neck with more kisses, her teeth inevitably scraping at your skin.

And Kate? She's more than willing to be under your hypnotizing spell.

Kate soon broke the barriers and went her way to claw on your bare skin. The obvious choice for you was to discard the jacket that was nothing more than an obstacle. You wanted to feel her, craving for so much more. Although, you find yourself smiling a little with how the archer was hesitant to break the kiss as the inevitable parting in the process came - Kate chasing your lips - both of you having red and swollen ones from a thirst induced by a dance. 

You're riled up and so is Kate. more so, she's afraid to break the momentum. Afraid that you would snap out of this haze anytime, so she savors each second – the shared warmth, the charged tension that drives her crazy, and your lips heavenly against hers – better than she ever dreamed of. 

When your hands begin to tug and unbuckle her belt, Kate looks at you with her ocean eyes skeptically.

"You wanna go all the way?" Kate rasps out and fuck, you have never heard of something more attractive than this. "I know you're- you might be still processing the break up. I don't wanna..." 

"Kate, listen to me." Your eyes pierce against hers, hands tangled on strands of her disheveled jet black waves, gently tugging and making the archer groan low at the sensation. "Among all the things I mourned and doubted for today, this - us - is not one of them. So yes, I want this. I need you."

Kate took a deep sigh. "As long as you're-"

"-long is what I want, it’s underneath your pants, and you're keeping it away from me. Unless you're backing out now on me, Bishop." 

Her perfect teeth clutched against her bottom lip as you've managed to unzip and free her cock out of her boxers. Your mouth agape in shock, heavens, she was big as you expected. How would it fit? You witnessed her member grow erect under your needy gaze. Kate has no other choice but to moan pathetically as you hold her cock.

"S-shit! Baby, be careful!" Kate hissed low, although her touch continued to relay the want coursing through her.

"Sorry," you sheepishly say and regardless, it dawns a stupid smile over Kate's features. 

It's rough and slightly painful on Kate's end, making her turn red sporadically. You take pity and spit on her cock to lubricate it, the stroke and twists slow at first. The action made her lower stomach and appendage twitch, with her foreskin being tugged in your grasp, Kate uttered a string of soft moans, all putty in your hands quite literally. 

Sue her, she's over the moon right now.

You bite your lip. "I can't take this anymore, I need you inside of me." 

Your spontaneity and darkening gaze continues to make Kate's head spin. She loved being the subject of your desire. Fuck, it was the hottest thing she has witnessed yet. 

"Do you now?" Kate chimed, having a palmful of your breasts through the shirt you're wearing. your eyes rolled back. "Unzip your jeans for me."

When you moved your body up, you failed to measure the distance between the roof of Kate's car and your head, making you bump your head in the process. you muttered a soft ow - heat settling on your cheeks. Kate's gaze however, did not waver, and it brought a pearly smile on her face as she found you endearing.

"Do I have to do it for you baby?" Kate murmured, her hands gripping over your waist.

You shook your head timidly. "No no, I can do it,"  

"That's my girl." The archer scratched her nails light on your stomach, a moan inevitably escapes your mouth. You feel her thumb teasing underneath your bra.

It was the push you needed, then on it was almost smooth sailing as you deftly unbuttoned your jeans. Gravitating to Kate's touch, your own body was attuned and glided for more. Her blue eyes never left yours nor her ministrations that descend over your breast and waist faltered. Your heart pounded madly at such intensity.

Your playful ways shifted back, maneuvering through the limited space - it was a miracle for your slightly trembling hands. You were glistening enough to make Kate's throat grow dry.

As your eyes peer down, Kate's cock felt intimidating, with a girth and length that none of your previous experiences could rival. Not to mention her precum looked tempting. 

All that is left is for you to lower down and so you let your impulsive thoughts win; plunge in. 

Your face curled in the unexpected stretch. Maybe you shouldn't have done that.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god—slow down!" Kate whisper-yelled, her mind flitting between panic and pleasure, not knowing where to succumb first. "You should've warned me first! I don't even have a condom rolled up yet," Her grip over your hips reprimanding you as it was almost bruised; the archer tried to carry some of your weight, in hopes to alleviate the burning sensation.

"Sue me, did you really have to be so–" You groaned, one of your palms against the car window for support, eyes shut in semi-frustration. Kate is fucking huge and it was vivid how your cunt swallows her in. "It looked nice and ready, can you blame me?" 

The breathy heaving both of your breaths barely ceased. Fully settled in Kate's lap and your cunt insanely and sync pulsating with her cock inside of you, she gave you an unamused look. She gave your breasts a firm squeeze, kneading the supple flesh and tugging on your nipples particularly hard – enjoying how your head lolled, eyes droopy in the erotic sensation.

"If you're going to keep playing like that I'm gonna need to take over. You've been naughty enough for me." The archer sultry says, nipping at your clavicle.

"Kate, what—"

She hoists you an inch, only to thrust you back to her cock. "Always taking what you want, doing as you please. I'll have to teach you some manners next time baby. But right now… I will do as you said; buried deep in you.”

Kate slid her hand on the flesh of your bare ass cheek and gave it a light spank. Reveling and lost in how she fit inside of you, your head lolled in the stack of pleasure. Your body practically molded and moved along the archer languidly, feeling her front against yours.

Fuck, how can she fit in the depths you've never explored before? The squelching sounds of your wetness grew and filled the car, erotic to your ears. The vehicle no doubt rocking along the motion and build up that Kate has been brewing.

Your hands loosely enveloped between the driver seat's headrest, upper body slumped and now chest-to-chest against Kate. Even with her unwavering thrusts, you feel the heel of her palm firm around the side of your neck, along with her thumb applying pressure – inches away from your jugular notch – squeezing you.

No, Kate was choking you.

Eyes flutter shut, you respond with enthusiasm. "Yes, oh, yes!" 

"You look so beautiful right now..." Kate dazedly confessed. Her hands moved to your lower back for support. Opening your eyes in curiosity, you see her half-lidded eyes – your favorite ones – softening. "No, you always do. I can't believe this,"

The peppered kisses on your shoulder and above your chest were spread out. Kate's breathing was gruff, you found it adorable as you were well-acquainted with her focused state. Her words dripped with much honesty that it pierced right into your heart, her name already indented there.

Meeting Kate halfway, your hips continued to gyrate along and your palm gently cradled her by the cheeks. You kissed her fervently, filled with a newfound passion. Kate was surprised but fully snapped out, returning the same energy. This was an enlightenment; another step that both of you are eager to explore together.

Your eyes welled up; both in joy and the fruition of her lustful hard work.

Her hips fluidly doing an upward thrusts to squeeze all the juices worth out of you, the archer makes sure that she's punctuating her punishment for you. There was barely a resistance anymore that your walls practically accommodated the entirety of Kate's cock. Although the stretch lingered, adding to the build you wanted.

"This sight? M-mm! Kate, you- you better make it count. Take all of me." 

Your jaw went slack as your dirtiest fantasies are being overfilled with Kate's grip and her determined grunts. Your clit throbbed and you took it upon you to rub it. She whimpered upon witnessing the act. Kate swats your hand away, pad of her fingers applying more pressure against your nub.

You feel Kate's mouth and teeth nibbling on your pebbled nipples this time and being filled to the brim with her words, you don't know if she knew you already came.

Kate knew. Her eyes flicked between your face and saw your pretty tummy, how it twitched, the bulge of her member appearing at each pound. Her trousers were tale-telling too as it was ridiculously soaked.

A shrill was pulled out of your throat. Kate continued to thrust, "Gonna fill you up until your walls are painted white. You wanted this right? Then I'll give it to you, baby," You see her veins bulging out of her neck, the archer completely flustered as she releases thick ropes of her cum inside of you. You were still throbbing at the fill and the aftershocks. The warmth was overwhelming, from your walls and Kate's cum coating you, both of you felt slightly numbed. She kissed and marked you underneath your jaw and you hummed softly.

"Where did that come from?" You murmur while an inch away from Kate's plump lips.

"Guess you bring out the best in me."

You giggle at her silly self coming back and comb through her jet black strands, scratching at her nape. She lets out a soft moan. You're satisfied with how ruined her suit was almost unsalvageable with its creases and wetness.

“Well shit. I think we’re banned forever in this parking lot.” Kate jokes, breathless, causing you to softly chuckle. She’s never been more thankful for the invention of tinted car windows.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[diagonal-queen]

hii! can i request hunting dogs with clumsy s/o?

Hunting Dogs with a clumsy S/O

♡ pairing: Fukuchi Ouchi, Jouno Saigiku, Tecchou Suehiro, Teruko Okura, Tachihara Michizou x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: What are the Hunting Dogs like with an S/O who's clumsy?

♡ cw: Swearing, mentions of getting hurt/bumping into things/getting accidental cuts, mention of alcohol

note: It's been a while since I actually posted some proper writing. I genuinely do apologise you guys- there's not really any good excuse for me taking as long as I have. Long work hours and bad home life combined have me absolutely fuckin spent, but I know that's also the case for other writers who still manage to produce work on at least a semi-regular basis. I just wanna try and get on top of some of my reqs that've been gathering dust in my drafts lmao. Thank you guys for your support and I love you all <3 apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x

Fukuchi:

I'm gonna be so real with you right now bro literally doesn't care

Like he gives absolutely no fucks that you're clumsy. Fuck you could trip into one of his many barrels of alcohol and fully destroy it and he just wouldn't even be mad

He'd just help you up and be like 'ah you're so cute when you trip over and faceplant and destroy my stuff <33' (probably not that far from verbatim to be honest)

I genuinely don't know what else to tell you other than 'he doesn't care', because he doesn't. Any mess you make, he'll have it cleaned up. Any precious item you break, he'll just replace it.

His only real concern is you somehow hurting yourself, but even then he's not really that worried because he'll find some insanely talented doctor to fix you right up. It wouldn't be an inconvenience for him at all

(Fukuchi IS a sugar daddy and nobody except me has ever acknowledged it and it's lowkey bothering me like c'mon be so for fucking real guys)

All this being said, he probably wouldn't let you carry something extremely valuable like amenogozen (not like he would let you carry it anyway, but your clumsiness does contribute to his overprotectiveness of that stupid dumbass sword)

As always, he will get pissed if anyone else gives you a hard time for your clumsiness

Your whole dynamic is basically just Ozzie and Fizz lowkey

He really just lets you do your thing honestly, he doesn't care whether it's imperfect or whatever. If you're clumsy, then clumsiness is automatically cute tf

Jouno:

Jouno's like the total opposite of clumsy, literally every particle of his being is perfectly coordinated at all times

So he might be upset at first to learn that your motor skills aren't as up to scratch as his are.

You need to remind him that hey, how does he expect a regular ass person to measure up to a genetically modified super soldier? (which is a totally fair argument that even he doesn't rebut)

And after some consideration he's like 'okay fair' and tries to get used to your clumsiness. Keyword being 'tries'; he's not always perfect at tolerating it, but he's doing his best and that's what counts

If you're the kind of person who curses when you stub your toe (or god forbid that thing where you bump your hipbone on the corner of the table for some reason), he's totally cool with that. He's fully okay with swearing

He just doesn't really like when you randomly yell or cry out in pain really loudly/right near him because of the auditory overload

If you cry he will take the time to calm you down and kiss whatever part of your body you hurt better (pretends to hate it but absolutely doesn't)

Uses your clumsiness as an excuse to hold your hand when you guys go out together <3 he also likes feeling your pulse speed up when he touches you

Will randomly pull you in certain directions while you guys are out walking and when you're like 'why?' he'll be like 'you were about to walk into a pole sweetheart' then you turn back around and yeah he was right

Tecchou:

One of my favourite versions of Tecchou is aloof himbo Tecchou so that's what we're going with. Anyways he would be like '...just stop dropping things tf'

It doesn't take him that long to accept that fact that sometimes you're just clumsy without being able to control it and he probably shouldn't trust you with dangerous or fragile object

It probably secretly annoys him a bit at first but he doesn't wanna make you feel bad about

His attention quickly turns to prioritising your safety, so ultimately he doesn't really care

He's really strong so a lot of the time if you have to carry something heavy he just offers to carry it instead. Not only will he be saving you from back pain but he may also potentially be preventing your toes from being shattered under the weight of whatever you would have been carrying

Tecchou would want to cook for you to keep you away from all the kitchenware and appliances, but you don't let him because you know he'll whip up something absolutely abhorrent. Even if you sometimes get nicked with knives or touch hot pans, it's better than eating his food (sorry Tecchou)

He wouldn't want you to leave your place on your own if the weather is rainy or something because that means the pavement/ground is slippery (if you ask him to carry you the chance of him saying yes is surprisingly high actually)

If you ever bump into him, he'll act nonchalant about it but he would be blushing and sweating and shaking and panicking and screaming crying throwing up hyperventilating fanboying dying

Teruko (platonic):

Like most...general traits that a human could have, Teruko would probably make fun of you for it at first

Eventually her teasing would become more lighthearted and silly instead of genuine, but if anyone else tried to bully for you it it's on SIGHT

Teruko can be clumsy sometimes, but more often than not it's just harmless things like carrying a stack of documents and not making sure to secure it so that sheets of paper don't fly off the top

When it comes to her physical strength and combat everything she does is very intentional and coordinated. If you see her actively being clumsy she probably really does not care about what she's doing lol

She's the kind of person to do dart and knife throwing for fun but if you're even in close range of a blade she freaks out and worries that you're gonna fatally wound yourself somehow

If you do end up getting hurt she'll help fix up your injury, like cleaning wounds or bandaging you up or whatever, but she'll chide you about it the whole time (she's hiding the fact that she's secretly super concerned for you)

Absolutely has a phone recording of you tripping and eating shit and always threatens to send it to people unless you buy her food or something like that lmao

Unlike Jouno or Tecchou she's a little bit of a prick and doesn't warn you when you're about to bump into something and then laughs when you bump into said something

I mean she won't let you get hurt hurt but also seeing people get hurt is funny sometimes lmao

Tachihara:

Let's not pretend that this motherfucker isn't also a clumsy bastard

C'mon the two of you are constantly tripping over your own feet let alone each other's feet. You're an accidental chaotic dual MESS

I mean Tachihara is a little less clumsy than you, being a Hunting Dog and all, but if he's sleep-deprived or drunk or something like that he is a literal safety hazard. He definitely doesn't realise how much of a unit he is

As such, he doesn't really mind that you're also clumsy. If you drop things or whatever he doesn't get upset, just helps you pick/clean them up like the sweetheart he is

Also tries to catch you if you trip over (his success rate is improving steadily) but may also fall over in the process so you never really know

He uses his metal manipulation to keep you from getting hurt. If you're in the kitchen and you're about to drop a pot on the ground he catches it before it lands on your feet. Is he really your man if he doesn't use supernatural abilities to keep you from dropping shit

Pretty much every room in the house is stocked with bandaids just in case. You guys almost always have tons of matching ones, along with bruises and random little sores that you have no memory of attaining

Again, if you're the type of person who swears when you stub your toe, the absolute horrific vulgar language that comes out of Tachihara's mouth when he stubs his toe puts you to SHAME

You're as equally concerned for his wellbeing as he is for yours. You both take good care of each other's physical health where you can

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl

[ameagrice]

Capsize

Percy Jackson x fem reader

chapter thirty-two I see trouble on the way.

There wasn’t an exact word to describe the way Chiron looked at you, that summer. Months and years down the line, you still couldn’t place it. That weary look, like watching something play out that you can’t really put a stop to. Of course, then you couldn’t have known. Not amongst friends, at your cabin table.

“Barbecue chicken wings!”

The food sprouted on the plate, a magic you’d never grown used to seeing. Newcomer Clarissa, a girl with extravagant blue hair, blinked, jaw-dropped.

“Twenty barbecue chicken wings!”

“Greedy-guts,” Annabeth chided beside you, munching on a side of lettuce.

You shoved three wings in your mouth at once, side-eying her. “You’re eating rabbit food.”

Your eyes lifted to the head table, where Chiron talked with an expressionless face to the new guy beside him, in an orange colour of the fruit itself. “I don’t like him.”

“You haven’t even talked to him,” Annabeth stabbed her fries with a fork.

“I don’t have to. Something’s off.”

Your sister groaned at your side, reaching for one of your chicken wings. Your mouth gaped, a sound of protest that she ignored. “Don’t start with ‘the vibes are off’ again.”

“Vibes are very important!” You rebutted.

He happened to be a man in at least his early to mid-fifties, short as anything and skinny, too, with a mess of dark-grey stubble around his jaw and a thin layer of hair on his head. Talking to Chiron, he might have looked like any random convict. But you weren’t convinced he was harmless.

“Seriously, though. The vibes are off. Don’t you think? You’ve been here all summer with him haven’t you?”

Annabeth’s bright eyes raised to the man in question for a fraction of a second, before lowering to her food, pushing fries around with the fork in her grip. “Quintus is…difficult. You should be careful with what you say around him. Especially you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“It means,” she lowered her tone, as if it was a super-secret secret. “I don’t trust him…particularly, and I know you always have a lot to say. Besides, something’s happening, can’t you feel it? Nobody trusts Quintus the way we should, since he came out of nowhere. Somebody mentioned the Oracle and he went crazy, he shut ‘em down. You have to keep your mouth shut this year, okay? Don’t disrespect the Gods, and don’t talk back to him.”

Being serious wasn’t in your nature, but you tried, for your sister’s sake. “Sure.”

“I’m serious.”

“No, you’re Annabeth.” Clarissa choked on her food, while Annabeth rolled her eyes.

It was a total pain that, not long after arriving, you had cabin inspection. A bore, grinding your nerves that you had to clean a cabin full of mess that wasn’t even yours—but Annabeth told you to quit whining, so you did, figuring you’d annoyed her enough already. Every afternoon for the first week, a senior counsellor came around with a checklist for every cabin. Thanks to your team efforts, you got the hot, clean showers first every time. Unfortunately for Percy, he fell somewhere around the middle-bottom league. You asked for snacks in return for your cleaning efforts, putting your home skills to use. Your best friend carried through on his promise—goods from the cabin store delivered promptly to your cabin every week.

Somewhere between the end of the first week and the weekend, you dipped your fingers in the lake water, watching the dark trailing swirls as you moved. Your ankle gently tapped Percy’s in the water, sitting at the end of the walkway. You can’t help noticing how much more grown up he looks this year. Older than you—you can’t seem to shed your baby face and freckles. Eyebrow waxing and tinting can only do so much.

“You know,” you say quietly, into the evening stars. “I think the Oracle wants to see me.”

Percy remains quiet at your confession. In the water’s reflection, you watch him nod. Maybe he thought this was a continuation of your want to see the future, carried through from last season. This time is very different, you want to tell him. Because this time, you feel it in your body that your time is here.

Dark curls gently sway with the movement of his nod. Even at fifteen years old, Percy respects your wishes, even if he doesn’t agree with them. “Want me to come with you?” Just being there is enough for him. There are no questions, with Percy. He understands you, and the way you talk. There is a mutual understanding that he’s there if you want, and there anyway. There is an underlying message in his words: I’m here if you need me to be.

“Yeah,” you dip your head, to your fingers laying just beside each others, not touching. “I’d like that.”

Intuition as a demigod means a lot. It can help the demigod avoid dangerous situations, or get them to act appropriately in time. In a few years from now, walking, lonely, along a shoreline yearning for someone who isn’t there, you’ll remember this moment, and question your own sanity. On the other side of the water will be a boy, sitting and praying on his knees in the sand, for your return. You’ll feel a million miles away yet so close, just the way you do now. This moment, in the present, feels so prominent and so odd that you commit it to memory, for later. Later always comes too soon. You shouldn’t get so caught up in the past, you hear a woman’s voice telling you. You want to scream until your throat feels raw; so why is the past always catching up to me? We live in memories; they shape you, they guide you—maybe that’s why you eventually feel so lost.

The next day, you kick yourself into action. You set about making a sword from scratch in the armoury (and bribing some Hecate kids to charm it for you, to a bracelet, or something. You haven’t quite decided yet). Something in the style of Percy’s sword would be beneficial.

“Do you think there’s a reason why my sword works so well with you?” The boy mutters, hanging upside down on the dock at night, cicadas singing all around. “Back at the school, I mean. You just…used it like it weighed nothing. It came to you.”

There probably is a reason. Chiron would know. But for now, you’re young, and you don’t care.

You go down to the training arena the next evening and watch newcomer Quintus fight against Percy—practicing. The older man might try to come across as harmless, and friendly, but there’s something you really can’t place your finger on.

“Good try,” the man nods. “But your guard is too low, Percy.”

Said boy parries back, undeterred. “Have you always been a swordsman?”

“I’ve been many things.”

And if that wasn’t strange enough, the purple insignia on his neck was. In the shape of a bird, the symbol sat against his stark skin like a terrible bruise. A reminder, he called it, when Percy asked. You decide you don’t want to know much more. You’ve made your mind up about the man.

The evening that you’ve made up your mind on going to the Oracle, something strange is in the air. It feels different, like it had when Ares met you in the diner your first quest, and the way it had when you ran away from home. Something was changing—had changed. When you raise your eyes to Chiron, talking with an animated Connor Stoll at his table, he raises his gaze like he’d been expecting you. He knows that you feel something is wrong, and you know that he understands what you mean. It’s a sure sign that this isn’t you being paranoid—this is real. Something is coming, and you wish you could avoid it with all your heart. Chiron shakes his head, curls jostling at his shoulders, a silent warning for you to be quiet—to let it be. He’s handling it.

In the middle of the dining place, striking across the floor, sits the crack where Nico di Angelo brought forth the dead. Since then, he’s been missing. And nobody will let you look for him. His grief showed his true colours, a hidden talent buried deep down. If Bianca hadn’t have passed, poor Nico would be here, and happy. He’d be safe.

Annabeth jokingly digs her hand into your side. Ticklish, you almost elbow her. “Shift it! I’m starving!” You draw your eyes away from the past, though it’s staring you right in the face.

You fall asleep that night with your fingers still against the edge of the curtain that stops right above your pillow, playing with it to watch the stars above camp. When you manage to drift off, feeling heavy and tired, you only hear words in the darkness.

“An exchange. A soul for a soul. A soul that should have died already. Someone who has cheated death.”

You can’t help but think, that’s you.

So you pull on a jacket and shoes, and slip from your cabin, trailing across camp in the quiet of night, taking in the sheer silence. In the distance, Festus snored and the Golden Fleece glowed, but that passed as you took the steps to the Big House, creaking under your feet. The lights inside are on, as they always are—the Big House is never closed. And somebody is always awake.

Unfortunately, tonight, the someone you want is not awake. Mr. D. is. You’re about to turn around when he blinks up from his magazine at the table, and waves his hand briefly. The door flies open, whacking the wall unapologetically. You stand, in mismatched socks and a saggy jacket, unimpressed.

“Where’s the manager?” You ask, folding your arms.

“That would be me.”

You scoff, stepping inside. “Bullshit.”

Inside, the lights are on, the house like a beacon. It smells of alcohol and coffee, though Mr. D. can’t drink ethanol. The scent lingers with him, like the smell of Cola. He sits in a too-big, starry shirt with red cheeks and bright orange pants. A fashion icon, on a different planet. A warm breeze drifts in from the open doorway, brushing your bare legs. The animal on the wall, above the chair where a clock also sits, stares at you, judging.

“I really need to speak to Chiron.”

“Not Quintus?” He lazily raises his brows. You laugh through your nose, shoving your hands inside your pockets. As you begin to walk the space, you blink at the dirt on your shoes, thinking.

“No. I’d rather jump off a cliff.” You stop. Pulling out a chair at the table, you sit heavily, legs outstretched, an arm over the back of the chair. You don’t look up. “I had a dream about that kid, Nico. He isn’t lost—he’s following someone’s orders. And we need to go get him. Someone wants to exchange lives—a soul for a soul. They said, someone who has skipped out on death.”

Silence fills the space. You look up, from your shoes. Mr. D. shrugs. “Okay?”

Fury fills you. “Okay? That’s all you got? Call for a quest!” You exclaim, getting to your feet. “Help Nico! A soul for a soul clearly means me. Did you just ignore the last quest altogether? How many times did I nearly die?”

His watery eyes blink, face unbothered. Mr. D. leans back on the sofa, flicking his magazine again. He hums. “How should I know?”

“You should! You should know these things. Please just…help me out, here. Get Chiron to call for a quest. Let me talk to the Oracle. We can save Nico! We can fix this! He’s a kid…he shouldn’t be out there alone. Someone is clearly controlling him. And personally, I think it’s a god.”

Now, he looks up. Those eyes harden. He doesn’t do anything, but the air shifts, changes, and you hate it. “Do you, now?”

“Yes,” you sigh slowly, watching carefully. Men can be unpredictable, you’ve learned that. Gods? A little bit more so. “Just…let me do this. Let me fix things before they get worse. Please.”

You plead the same way with Chiron, later that morning. “I know this is meant for me. This is my quest. My chance. Chiron, I swear. I feel this in my bones. We have to do something, because something big is happening. Nico needs somebody to help him, and someone powerful has risen. I’ve dreamt it. I feel it. And I know that you do, too. If you don’t believe me, let me talk to the Oracle! Talk to Percy. He knows about this. He knows how I feel about it all—!”

“Stop.” Chiron utters quietly. He cuts your rising tone in half, and you fall silent, waiting. He looks at you the same way that he has since you arrived—like you’re headed for your grave, and he’s trying to stop it. He sits looking out across the porch, across camp. “Go back to your cabin. Inspection’s due to start, is it not? I’m sure Annabeth would like your help—”

And…you finally snap. You swipe a hand over your hair, tugging on the ends. “Why does nobody listen to me?! I know that you can feel something is wrong. I know. If you’d just let me talk to the Oracle. Just this once. And I’ll stop. If nothing happens, I’ll leave it all alone,” you step forward, so you’re leaning on the railing, breathing deeply, waiting for his reaction. “We both know, though, that something will happen. You’re just scared of it.”

Later, you’ll realise, looking at a young boy on a rooftop, just why Chiron was scared. He was scared for all you heroes, then and always. Heroes die terrible deaths; they get hurt, and they don’t recover. They live difficult but happy lives. It’s the hard parts, he doesn’t like.

“We don’t all die,” you urge. “We don’t all suffer. If you let me do this, I’ll come back from wherever I’ll go. I’ll bring Nico back. I’ll fix all of this! You have to trust me on this one. I’ve had dreams. Nightmares. I know what’s coming, and what will happen if I don’t do something. You’ve always said that intuition is right, as a demigod. Isn’t that one of the first things you told me? Told Percy? Right now, my intuition is telling me that I have to do this! Please believe me.”

Waiting for his response is more nerve-wracking than spilling your thoughts to him at a million miles an hour. He holds a thousand-yard stare, like he’s seeing past you. Who is he seeing, you wonder? Which hero do you remind him of?

Chiron inhaled heavily, exhaling slowly. He looks tired. “You remind me…so much of your mother. So persistent to do the right thing. Not always the good thing, but the right. You young heroes…I will think about it. We have more pressing matters, right now. An Aethiopian Drakon was spotted this morning walking the camp border. We know Luke has made plans to invade, and my guess is this is the start of that idea. Quintus has suggested we have a round of war games tonight. You should tell Annabeth and Sienna, they’ll want to prepare no doubt…”

At breakfast, Quintus announces the war games after dinner. Annabeth yaps about how long it’s been since the last one. Clarissa tiredly asks what the war games are like. The conversation with Chiron plays on your mind while you scrape your offerings into the fire. A bit of toasted bagel and strawberries. The brightness of the flames reflect off your plate, grateful that you’re late to breakfast and there’s nobody waiting behind you.

“Help me get what I want, mom. We both know I’m meant for this. Let me save Nico. Let me save us.”

Whether she’ll listen—whether she even heard—is one thing, and carrying out on your wishes is another. A part of you wants to think about all the times she didn’t help you. But another part thinks of all the times she did, and you have a slither of hope that Athena will hear your desperation and help you out.

You remind me so much of your mother. You have lots in common, then. Maybe she’ll realise you’re more alike than either of you thought.

You turn and cast your gaze across the pavilion. Connor and Travis are throwing food across the table, so you’re not going there. At your table, Annabeth is staring at the sky like it’s the answer to all her problems. Silena Beauregard is sobbing her heart out at her haircut, so you’ll avoid her today. Finally, Percy and Grover. Percy in typical fashion of creased blue tee and jeans, and Grover chewing on lettuce, his horns poking through his curly hair. At the head table, Chiron is standing, not in the wheelchair, tall and…already watching. Maybe he does it on purpose—he just leaves. Campers shouldn’t sit at other tables, sitting with your own cabin is a where you should be.

You approach Percy, anyway, slinking onto the bench. Grover smiles at you, and you can’t tell if you’re paranoid or if Chiron has mentioned your talk this morning. Maybe you’re losing it—because you swore, hands down, that you talked to Mr. D. last night, and according to Chiron, he isn’t even at camp.

“What are we talkin’ about?” You pick at your bagel, eyeing Percy’s much more appealing chocolate pop tarts.

“Chiron wants Percy to convince me,” Grover utters, spearing his breakfast with a fork.

“Convince you of what?”

A plate smacks down on the table, rattling the dishes already there. Annabeth climbs over the bench and plonks down, reaching over you to steal one of Percy’s pop tarts. You have half a mind to snatch it back.

“I’ll tell you what it’s about,” Annabeth said. “The Labyrinth.”

You look between the three of them. “Labyrinth? Are we talking, like, Theseus’s Labyrinth? Ariadne, and shit?”

“Exactly that.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Percy hushes. “Either of you.”

“We all need to talk!” Annabeth insists.

“But the rules…” he frowns.

You shove the rest of your bagel in your mouth. “Rules-shmules. Cut to the point—I had a dream about Nico di Angelo, and he’s working with some psycho to exchange souls. He’s being controlled by someone. Last night, the Apollo kids went out to get rid of the drakon in the woods. I’ve had a weird feeling for weeks now that something’s coming and something has changed, and all of this is happening after Luke came up with the plans to invade and take over. Coincidence? I think not. We need to do something.”

Annabeth hums. “When you pair all that with the fact that Grover’s in trouble, and the Labyrinth we found this summer over in the woods? It’s all connected. It has to be. I think the only way we can figure it all out is by going into the Labyrinth. It didn’t appear for no reason, right? Clarisse found it by total accident, and we’ve been trying to investigate it all summer. We only get so far, though…”

“So,” Percy prodded. “It’s not under the king’s palace in Crete anymore. It’s actually under some random building in America?”

“It was never just under the palace, though,” you think aloud. “It was sprawling. It existed for so long before Theseus went inside that it just…adapted. Changed. If it grew there, chances are it isn’t just under some building in America. It’s probably everywhere. Just like Olympus moves with societal changes, and how an Underworld entrance is in L.A.”

“So, is the Labyrinth a part of the Underworld?”

It’s Annabeth’s turn to be confused. Grover shook his curly head. “No. There are probably passages leading down to the Underworld in the maze, but they’re not totally connected. Think of them as…alleys between streets. The Labyrinth is basically just under the surface of the mortal world, like a second skin. It’s been growing for thousands of years. It’s connected everything everywhere. You can get practically anywhere using the Labyrinth.”

It only occurs to you, then, that, “The Labyrinth that opened in camp…is Luke’s way in. It’s how he’s going to invade everywhere. He’s got it all planned to a T. Luke must have connections in camp, because the entrance to the Labyinth wasn’t here a few months ago. Someone has to be feeding him information on how it works, where it starts and ends. How to get inside. But who?”

It all clicks into place perfectly.

You’re your mother’s daughter, alright.

As it so happened, Chiron wanted Grover to explore the maze. Clarisse spent the summer inside of it, trying to get a feel for where it led to, the entrances and exits. It’s always changing, according to her, and she got lost a couple times. Chris Rodriguez went insane down there, says Annabeth. He’s still insane. But no other advancements have been made. Because nobody can find the entrances outside, or the exits inside. Grover still wants to find the god, Pan, and believes that the maze might be the only way to find him. But Grover is Grover, and he knows how he feels, so the maze isn’t a match. Annabeth urges him to go and keep looking. But…everyone knows something is wrong. Off.

When Quintus cleared his throat far too many times to be a sore throat, Annabeth got the hint and took you over with her to your own table.

“Convince him, will you?” She asks Percy, linking her arm with yours to pull your unwilling self along. “Talk to him.”

You eye Quintus and try to decide whether you’re a paranoid schizophrenic. Mr. D. would tell you straight. But he’s not here, and so says Annabeth, he never was. There’s excitement and unsettlement buzzing in your body, like you’re gearing up for something you don’t know about just yet. Sometimes, the body knows before the brain does, and it’s never wrong.

That evening, Quintus ordered the Capture The Flag armour to be handed out. Suited up and waiting for his orders, everyone crowded as the sun began to set, burning orange over the treeline. The mood among the campers was a lot more serious than when you played Capture The Flag.

“Right!” Quintus said, standing on the head table. “Gather round.” He dressed in black leather and bronze armour, like something from the past and the future mixed into one. Throwing in his greying hair into the mix was like seeing a ghost. The giant puppy (supposedly dangerous) that was Mrs O’Leary bounded and barked around Quintus, eating scraps off the floor. “You will be in teams of two—WHICH HAVE ALREADY BEEN DECIDED.” People began to grab at their friends and scream names, until he yelled over them.

“Awwwww!” Came a chorus of disappointment.

“The goal is simple: collect the gold laurels without dying.”

You lean over subtly to Percy, though you can’t just whisper in his ear anymore, he’s got so tall. “We do that every day.”

“The wreath is wrapped in the silk package tied to the backs of the monsters. There are six of these monsters, each has a silk package. Your goal is to find the wreath before the other teams. And…of course, you will have to slay the monster to get it, and not die.”

“Neat,” you mutter. It sounds straight forward enough. Around you, people agreed.

“I will now announce your partners. There’ll be no switching. No complaining. And NO trading.”

He went on to list the pairs, from a terrified Grover and spooked Tyson, to Clarisse and Joan, to Annabeth and Mason, to Connor and Travis, and you and Percy.

Percy grinned at you. “Nice.”

You shoulder-barged him so hard his armour turned ski-whif. You twirled your dagger between your fingers with what you could describe as utter skill, heading into the woods. The teams spread out, some walking, some sprinting. Percy held his sword at his side, and you were almost jealous of it. It was still light when you got into the woods properly but the height and density of the trees made it darker and colder than it really was.

“I spy with my little eye,” Percy spun in a circle. “Uhhhh…something beginning with T.”

“Trees.” You side-eyed him.

“Smarty-pants. Your turn.”

“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with P.” You hone in on the distant scuttling.

Percy gasps dramatically. “It’s a Percy!”

Your hand flies for his sword-side wrist. “No—package. Run!”

If this were a fun game, you might have run after the package strapped to the back of the creature. However…you were really quite scared. These creatures were huge, bigger than normal monsters, scorpions altered with huge pincers and poison dripping from their sides. When one came, three more followed. How on earth were you supposed to fight them all off? You nearly tripped over backward as Percy yanked on your armour. You scrambled to keep up with him, dirt flicking up off the ground. Another creature came out from that way, too, leaving you back-to-back with Percy.

“They don’t look happy,” he said.

“Absolutely not,” you agree.

You move slowly to be side-by-side instead, moving in the one direction the monsters aren’t keeping you stuck in. Your feet shift back, the ground declining. Percy, in front of you, trusts you to guide him, deflecting a hiss of poison with the flat of his sword just in time to catch it before it landed on your face. You exhale slowly, reaching your dagger hand behind you, catching on the side of a large rock, taller than the both of you, and one on the other side. The space between the two is slim, but with the creatures closing in on you, any sort of coverage is better than none.

“Bit tight there, no?” Percy suggests nervously, reaching his free hand up to his shoulder where your hand rests up on his armour, guiding.

“Cover is cover, man. Oh, that’s a bit steep—”

Before you can say another word, the ground under your feet gives way. All the breath leaves your lungs in the sudden, unexpected fall. Percy yells, shocked, falling backward into pure darkness. You land on hard ground, your armour taking most of the impact. Slightly winded, you sit up and rely on Percy to help you up, staring at the hole you fell through, the light sky and scorpions peering down to you. The boy next to you breathes frantically, panicking.

It couldn’t get any worse, right?

Wrong. You watch in total disbelief, the hole knitting together and closing up to leave you both in the pitch black. The make of Percy’s sword provides a tiny glimmer of a glow, casting between your faces—his wide-eyed, unblinking and yours terrified.

“Percy—”

“Don’t panic. It’s—it’s fine.”

Your voice rises to a high pitch. “Where are we?!”

“Well, we’re in a hole.” His voice shakes in response.

It’s freezing down here, and damp. You take a step back, dropping your dagger. It clatters and echoes in both directions. Your palms fly back as you lean and hit a wall, sliding them across dewy concrete. A breeze blows from one direction, whistling, all the way down to the other. The space doesn’t feel tight. When you reach your hand out to find Percy in the darkness, you can’t feel him.

“Are you there?” You whisper, throat tightening.

“Right here,” he gulps, and warm fingertips land in your hair. You slide your hand up to meet his wrist and don’t let go. His pulse flutters furiously under your tight fingers. “The whole woods, and four monsters come right to us. We’re like magnets.”

“Just you, man. Son of Poseidon ‘n all.”

“Glad you find this funny.”

“I’m glad you’re glad.”

As the two of you calm down ever so slightly, you push off the wall, still holding Percy, and reach for his sword, turning the material’s dim light this way and that. It doesn’t do much. “What is this? Maintenance tunnels?”

You want to laugh. But something weak and nervous has settled on your chest. “Percy…I think we’re in the Labyrinth.” The ground beneath your feet feels like brickwork, jolty, uneven. “Safe from scorpions, anyway.”

“This is new. Has to be. We would have known if there were caves here. Surely?…”

You nod, sniffing. “Definitely.” You thought of the crack made by Nico in the dining pavilion. Had the two of you made this? But how? It didn’t seem right. You lower your hand from Percy’s sword, and he slides his hand down…into your own clammy palm, off his wrist. Eyes widening, you don’t question it. He keeps his hand there. Percy shifts the sword light.

“It’s a long room,” he mutters.

“It’s not a room,” you realise. “It’s a corridor.” The darkness felt emptier in front and behind, and you had the terrible, crawling feeling that something was watching. If this was the maze, it would make sense: the maze is alive, after all.

He took a step forward, slipping your hand away. “Don’t!” You cried, a little too loudly, partially out of worry for danger but mostly so as not to be left alone. “Don’t go down there. We need to just…find an exit. We need to get out.”

If he sensed your panic—which, being Percy, he definitely did—he tried to calm you. “It’s okay,” he tried, somewhat soft. “It’s right—there…oh.”

You tried to think rationally under the rising terror. If this really was the maze, who was the maker? You sift through hours of books and facts and history mentally in seconds, working at a thousand mental miles an hour. The original maker, would have been Daedalus—the father of Icarus. Ancient Greeks and their creations…

“There has to be some sort of exit here,” you utter, trailing your hand up the wall. You let go of Percy’s and brush both across the dewy walls. “A mark, maybe? Daedalus was a creator. All creator’s leave their trademark, I think. If we’re talking Ancient Greece then it’s probably a Greek letter or…sign…something.” You liked to assume the trademark would be something to feel, and close by. You heard Percy copying you without question. You know one another by now, and how each other works. You often lead—Percy often follows. It’s a level of trust you’ve had no choice but to build on over the years. Act first, question later.

His unsure tone came forth in the darkness. “I’m not—”

“Got it!” A eureka! moment brings relief, and a bit of weight falls from your shoulders. A dented brick in the wall, in the shape of the ancient Delta—a small L. It began to glow bright blue when you pressed into it. You’d have smiled if you weren’t so worried. The roof slid open, dirt falling in atop of you. You’d been expecting scorpions and sunlight, not…stars, and the dark sky. Elatedness turns into sheer and utter bafflement. Metal ladder rungs speared out of the wall, to the opening in the ceiling. People were screaming your names, some distantly, some close by. Percy glanced nervously to you, and nodded to the ladder.

Humid air greeted you. Up on the surface, the ground closed over again, like it had never fallen open in the first place. Percy, crouched, brushed his hand over the place there should have been a gash. Nothing.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Clarisse rounded into your space, face like fury. “We’ve been looking forever!” She demanded.

Maybe it was how you shook, leaning against the rock. It might have been the paleness of Percy’s face.

“We were only gone five minutes,” he said.

Chiron trotted up, followed by Annabeth and a new camper. “You guys okay?” She asked, breathing deep.

“We’re fine,” Percy got to his feet. “We fell into a hole.” People looked skeptically to him, but you opened your mouth.

“Honest.” Chiron looked like his worst fears were coming to life. “We were out here just fighting those scorpions and then the ground just opened. Didn’t feel that long down there, but obviously…”

“You’ve been missing for nearly three hours,” Chiron ran a hand over his face. “The game is over.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth piped up. “We nearly won. Until Tyson fell on me.”

You eyed the golden laurels Clarisse wore. Usually, she’d brag and flaunt in typical Ares-kid fashion. This time, the girl stood judging. “It just opened?” She repeated.

“Chiron, maybe we should talk about this somewhere else? At the Big House?” Said Annabeth.

Clarisse pushed further into the circle. “You found it, didn’t you? You went into the maze!”

You turned your head in a short tilt, scoffing. “Yeah. Yeah, we found it…”

Campers grew rowdy, yelling questions and firing anxiety. Chiron held his hand up and it grew quiet. “Tonight is not the right time, and this is not the right place.” He stared at the giant rock formations like they were dangerous. “All of you, back to your cabins. Get some sleep. You played well, but it’s well past curfew!”

There was a lot of complaining and mumbling, but campers dwindled and retreated to their cabins, no doubt going to talk about your missing evening with Percy.

“That explains what Luke is after,” Clarisse shrugged.

You froze. “So I was right, this morning—we found Luke’s invasion route into camp?”

If looks could kill, you’d be back in that hole. Annabeth nodded, staring at you. Clarisse popped off on a spiralling theory, and Percy pressed his hand into your shoulder. Chiron had turned grey, face stony.

You didn’t know, then.

You’d just just started digging your own grave.

taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore

@rottenstyx @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

@marshmallow12435 @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol

@twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky @emu281

@charlesswife @jessiegerl @tojismassivemantiddies @mata0-0mata @jccc1000

@xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nothankyou138 @i-love-books-and-the-bible

@obxstiles @mxltifxnd0m @ryujinraven

[sophieinwonderland]

Found a Hate Blog in The #Plural Tag. 😮‍💨

As I covered recently, "Plural" is an inclusive word with origins in endogenic and non-disordered systems.

If any anti-endo posts in the "#plural" tag or other inclusive tags, don't expect your DNIs to be respected.

They also are doing this knowingly. People have already tried to contact them about using the inclusive plural tag and the hate blog has stubbornly refused.

So if they're going to post in inclusive tags, I figured I might as well respond to some of their vent posts in anti-endo tags. As always, if anti-endos have a problem with this or feel boundaries are being unfairly crossed, please take it up with the hate blog I'm responding to that's invading our spaces.

Also, really weird how they just jump straight into saying "pro-endos" aren't systems either. Hate to break it to you, but there are a lot of traumagenic DID systems whose disorders and trauma are just valid as yours. And they manage to not be bigots too!

Wait... are they claiming that ALL dissociation can only be caused by trauma?

Although previous research has implicated a history of childhood trauma in the development of dissociative tendencies, insufficient cognizance (in this context) has been taken of the distinction between pathological and nonpathological dissociation. In this study, the relationship between childhood trauma and both pathological and nonpathological dissociation was investigated in a sample of 100 Australian adults. Pathological dissociation was positively predicted by dimensions of childhood trauma, but no such relationship was found for nonpathological dissociation (psychological absorption). The data are consistent with the traumagenic model of the dissociative disorders, but factors other than childhood trauma may also be pertinent.

Amazing how they compare us with anti-vaxxers while trying to claim all dissociation is traumagenic. This wasn't even hard to find. 🙄

"I don't care about any morals"

Well, at least you're up front about it.

Also, I tend to check the DID tags every now and then and you know what I don't see there? Endogenic systems!

"#Endo Safe" tags are more often than not used by pro-endo traumagenic systems.

Guess what! If you have DID, you get to post in the DID tags. Being a hateful bigot isn't a requirement! Anyone with DID has the right to post in the DID tags, and can tag their post as endo safe too!

Maybe you wouldn't get as many anons from endogenic systems if you stop posting in inclusive tags. Just a thought!

How are they harmful to the community again?

Weren't you just saying earlier that pro-endos were stealing resources? Now you're acknowledging that they're making resources for the community, but this is also bad?

LOL!

Genic labels literally only exist because of the pro-endo community. And the anti-endo community notoriously hates xeno-origins like NPD-genic. Yes, people will assume you're endo-safe when you use xeno-origins because these terms, like most resources in the plural community, were made by pro-endos.

Keep it up guys! It's working! We're spreading!

Sorry, I don't feel like rebutting anything here. I just appreciate seeing that our efforts are paying off!

The Future is Plural! ��

Stop!

This talking point has been completely debunked.

System hopping was used by pro-endos 15 years before the earliest association with RAMCOA. The idea that it was a RAMCOA term is a total lie invented by anti-endos!

OSDD-1A and OSDD-1B are not actually official disorders. There is an OSDD. The first example, called OSDD-1 sometimes, gives two possible presentations. One with less distinct alters and amnesia, and another with no amnesia. But these aren't called OSDD-1a or OSDD-1b.

If your goal is education, this nuance is important.

Could it be because ASPEC people have dealt with a ton of exclusionism from some queer communities, and are more accepting of other people as a result? And perhaps they also recognize similarities between system exclusionists and queer exclusionists?

You're coming and posting in our tags!

That's why people keep interacting with you! "Plural" is a term coined by non-disordered systems, you've been told this, and you insist on posting in inclusive tags anyway!

You don't get to bust in someone's door, complain about them in their home, and then tell them not to interact with you! It doesn't work like that!

Funny how these are the only sources they can provide. And they exclusively deal with DID without even touching on other forms of plurality.

Anyway...

The ICD-11 says you can experience "multiple distinct personality states" without a dissociative disorder.

The creators of the theory of structural dissociation have said hypnosis and mediumship may involve self-conscious dissociative parts of the personality.

And Transgender Mental Health, written by Eric Yarbrough and published by the American Psychiatric Association (who publishes the DSM) says you can be plural without trauma or a disorder.

Sources repeatedly affirm that it's possible to be plural without trauma!

Anyone who claims it's impossible to be plural without trauma is either ignorant or lying.

And if you're going to keep spreading hate and misinformation, at least keep it out of inclusive tags!

[communistkenobi]

Sorry if this is a dumb question can you talk a little bit more about what you mean when you say someone’s politics are reactionary? And what the opposite of reactionary would look like in politics or media or what have you? I get that it’s a bad thing but not totally why and also what something better looks like

Not a stupid question at all - I use the term reactionary broadly to refer to right-wing responses to/analyses of current political circumstances. They are reacting to social, economic, and/or political progress and fighting for those things to be dismantled or destroyed in order to return “back” to an idealised past where those social and political advances were not available to people. This is the reason why the right wing has an eternal obsession with “tradition.” I don’t know the exact scope of the term’s lineage within Marxist thought specifically, but part of reactionary politics is, well, reaction - there is no political imagination offered beyond what already exists or has existed, reactionaries can only react to current conditions, and so right wing political projects demand a backwards historical trajectory, either to an earlier stage of capitalism or even feudalism, where these institutions better enforced (in their view, not necessarily in reality) gendered divisions of labour and gendered roles in society, cisheterosexual norms and practices, racial segregation, imperial and colonial domination, aristocratic class structures, and so on. These are founded on moral claims about what society “ought” to be like, and those moral claims are often bound to religious authorities like the Christian church, intellectual and political projects like white supremacy, colonial states like the US or France or Canada or the UK or etc, and so on. The goal is to protect these existing institutions and reinvigorate them with more political and social power - to make them great again, one might say! 

Often to justify these political goals, claims are made about harm being done to a nation or people (this is what animates “the great replacement” conspiracy about white people being bred out of society), to traditional family values, to IQ, but these are not empirical claims being made - the harm is metaphysical, the progress they oppose destabilises idealistic categories like gender or race, it’s not actually physically harming real human beings in the world. Reactionaries can hold the belief that the white race needs to be protected from non-whites, for example, despite the fact that “race” is not something that can be discovered or proven in the material or natural world, it is a fiction that organises society hierarchically but is not premised on anything real. Reactionaries equate the destabilisation of these categories with harm (eg trans people destroy the gender binary, gender equality destroys the need for men, racial equality harms whites), and so their opposition is founded on maintaining these categories, not reducing harm. The harm is part of their goal! It’s why when you point out that, for examples, trans healthcare greatly improves the lives of trans people in order to rebut reactionary claims that most trans people regret transition, they don’t care - their goal is not to reduce harm, it is to maintain existing gendered institutions and norms. They are using the language of harm for rhetorical purposes, but they are not making empirical claims about harm because they don’t give a shit about reducing harm to trans people.

It is opposite to revolutionary politics, a political imaginary looking to produce new institutions, new forms of social and economic relationships, new political horizons not previously developed in human history, or to build upon past projects that have come before. These projects are premised on analyses of current political and social conditions in order to identify the harms they cause. Things like decolonisation, socialism, transfeminism, and so on can act as (potentially) revolutionary political projects that seek to abolish old social/political relationships and hierarchies, be they gender, capitalism, settler colonialism, etc, for the purpose of creating a more just and equitable society. Demands to abolish old social and political forms are founded on empirical claims of harm - settler colonialism produces harm, the gender binary produces harm, capitalism produces harm, etc., and we can measure and assess the extent of these harms. This is part of the reason people claim Marxism is scientific, because its political conclusions and proposed solutions are based on an analysis of “material conditions” ie the real world & its various structures

[justa-smalltown-gargoyle]

Hey batman/batfam people, I wanted to talk about something. I know this might not be received well, but...this is my blog. So if you disagree with me, feel free to block me! Literally that's what's great about this site. (I've been trying to do so on my end, but I thought I'd reach out a bit.....idk maybe try to form some understanding?)

I have been a batman fan since like...age 13 or something. Batman as a character means so fucking much to me, as does all his kids and massive extended family. (can't forget Alfred, Kate, Lucius, and Jeff Gordon!!) And I know that they mean a lot to you guys too.

In comic book and fandom spaces we talk a lot about misrepresentation of characters in fandom, but even in "canon" or rather published/produced content. I have beef with a lot of live action adaptions of Batman for example.

The thing with comic book characters, even more than some fandoms/pieces of media, is that there is SO MUCH content out there, that two people can say they like this one character but those two versions might be in total contradiction. But does that make one right over the other? does that make one superior?

Now, I hate Ben Affleck's Batman. And to fans of his, I'd say, you want the punisher, not Batman, because to me, that goes against who Batman is fundamentally. I read the comics, watch a lot of the animated stuff, and formed my own opinion and version of Batman. However, and this seems to be a controversial take, i really enjoy Wayne Family Adventures.

I see a lot of hate on here for WFA (and on tiktok but they're another beast), which, it's not for everyone, that's okay! Not everyone has to like what I like. But what I don't agree with, is that people who like WFA are seen as "not true batman fans", "they haven't ever read a comic". "they only like the flat fanon versions of the characters", etc.

These comments I would like to rebut- some comic readers such as myself might enjoy WFA. There might be people that have never read a comic or even watched anything batman related but like WFA. Are they not valid to enjoy that and have their own fandom for that? Are they not allowed to be fans of Batman?

I also would ask, how much of WFA did you actually read? In it's nature, it's suppose to be the bat family on their time off, or more light stories, but it actually addresses things like Jason's trauma, Duke moving in to the Manor, Damian struggling to fit in at school, things like that. Now if you read pretty far and still didn't like the portrayal of the characters, that's fine, I'm not asking you to change your opinion, however I am asking you to make space for those who do enjoy it, or that WFA is their first introduction or only experience with the Batman and co.

WFA isn't perfect, but it holds a special place in my heart, and gives me more content for Not Perfect but Trying and Cares Dad Bruce Wayne which I am grateful for. And tbh I feel like it just shows other sides to the characters we don't see that often!

And again, obvi people have their opinions, I guess I'm just asking for us to be more aware and create a space where people can feel free and excited to talk about these characters that we all love. I enjoy content and discussions I see in the tags and different blogs but then I see the hate for WFA fans and it just puts a real damper on otherwise really good content.

Anyways, thanks for reading!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not smiling at my roommate?

So this is from back in September ofc but whatever I'm here now. So me (18nb) and my 7 roommates (all ~18F) are all college freshmen sharing a dorm suite (4 bedrooms, 2 people in each) and we're mostly all strangers to each other except for two separate sets of besties. Only one set is relevant here and that's N, my roommate, and K, the focus of this story.

So our first month of school and living together went pretty well! We were all getting along and hanging out, walking to classes and going to dinner together. And then out of nowhere K texts our groupchat, asking for a "family meeting" that evening. Which stresses everyone out obviously, because what the hell could have happened? Was she okay??

Anyway long conversation short- she called a meeting to tell us that she felt we were excluding her and that some of us were being purposefully rude and unfriendly to her.

She would go to her twin sister's suite (yes they were in separate suites) to hang out a lot, so if we were doing something we wouldn't interrupt her, and i guess she felt excluded from that?? We didn't do much though. And there was a conversation we had in her room with her roommate but without K, but that was just a coincidence because we all heard drama(unrelated) and flocked over there, and K wasn't in the suite. She walked in on the middle of our convo, we said hey and continued, then she left. But she said she specifically felt excluded here???

And for being rude, this was partially directed at her bestie N, but mostly our roommate C and maybe me. C and I were sitting next to each other and K just gestured at us at first. Supposedly N was ignoring her, but N had told me before that she felt like K was being cold to her, ignoring her texts and such. Specifically C and I apparently weren't greeting and smiling at her when we saw her? I couldn't think of a time this happened so I'm pretty sure this is directed at C, but we'll get to me in a sec. C definitely was a bitch (but that's irrelevant here) but she said something about having a hard life and not being a smily person AND that the specific instance that K brought up, C didn't say anything to her bc she thought that K had fallen asleep on the living room couch.

So back to me, i might have been rude and just not realized it? I don't have a very large smile and I'm quiet, but i also have a reputation for being a huge bitch. If i don't like someone, i don't hide it unless i have to (like if I'm forced to work with them or they're a teacher or etc) I didn't quite dislike K yet though, but she had made some strangely classist comments towards me (don't know how she clocked that i was the poorest of us) and seemed uncomfortable after i confirmed that I'm bi (she saw a rainbow flag on the desk and asked, she doesn't know about the gender lol) but yeah so i was starting to dislike her, but i didn't really know what to make of her yet. Point is, i totally could've been rude at some point and just not realized/ forgot.

Anyway anyway, she presented her issues, we rebutted them, she left the room a little upset, her twin sister comes in and starts yelling at us for upsetting K, we get mad at the twin because this is none of her business and we think K is overreacting. Eventually we give a half-hearted apology to K (sorry that you felt hurt, we didn't do anything intentionally) and K apologizes for it going so far. K's distant for the rest of the year and none of us try to bridge that gap.

So i guess this is less "was i the asshole before this" and more "am i the asshole now" for not reaching out and definitely excluding her and being rude to her after she called this meeting. We're not gonna share a suite regardless (upper classmen dorms are smaller) so this is just for my piece of mine.

(Also, she's a business major)

What are these acronyms?

[gabba-ghoulish]

-Welcome home, Dear Ghoul-

Hey ghesties :00 here's my first attempt at writing something for my ghoul oc Domino, Hope you'll enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it! Criticism is totally appreciated as I'm trying to get into writing a bit more :>>

Word Count: 2024

so without further ado, Enjoy!

“What do you mean the Ghoul isn’t ready for their Debut?!”

 Screeched Sister Imperator, her hallowed hollers thumping throughout the walls of the Ministry. It was Invocation Day; A day within the ministry where the current leader of the clergy would summon to accompany the current leader of the clergy to spread the gospel of Morningstar. While most Invocation days went as smoothly as a hot knife through butter, However, today couldn’t have been further from the norm. 

“A new ghoul has been summoned!” 

“But what can they play?”

 “What element are they??”

 The Nameless asked amongst themselves. Ecstatic for the forthcoming birth of a new Ghoul into the clergy’s ranks. The Newly summoned had been cradled in the finest of silks and satins, it was merely hours after the ghoul had been brought into the world anew, sitting in the middle of the chamber. The Cardinal anxiously awaited Imperators’ verdict. inquiring about their current situation besides the coddled Ghoul. Fiddling with his hands as if they were going to run away at any given moment. 

“Please Sister, if I may er… interject, heh. Perhaps you are being a bit too harsh on the Newly summoned?”

 Said Cardinal Copia, who by now had taken his biretta and held it closely to his chest. 

“While I am…ehh-Aware of the situation at hand…I would er…argue that this isn’t a mistake. The Invocation was successful in bringing us a new Ghoul, Whether or not we know said reason…”

The cardinal gestures towards the Newest of the Nameless, Whose face was not yet visible nor distinguishable due to the draped linen cast over them with only its horns poking out from under the covers. Sister Imperator lets out a calm sigh. Stone-faced. She looks at The Cardinal. then at the Nameless. Then Cardi once again. and slightly nods.

 “Cardinal…While I may understand why you might feel this way, This is your first cycle, If we wish to spread the word of our gospel efficiently and effectively, then we mustn’t make mistakes.”

 rebutted Sister Imperator.

 “-We had them summoned to be out on tour with you Cardinal, If the ghoul is unable to fulfill the task that they have been assigned, Then they are of no use to us. We must send them back to the pit.” 

Copia hesitates for a moment, stunned. It seems Sister Imperator has come to her conclusion on whether the Ghoul will stay or go. 

“But Sister, I implore you! While they…er might not be of use as of now, T-That does not mean that they have no Potential at all! Please… Let them stay. I am certain that it was not a mistake to have summoned them.”

 Pleaded the Cardinal as Sister’s once impenetrable gaze had softened. 

“Very well then Cardinal, The Ghoul shall stay here with us in the meantime Until we find them a suitable role within the band.”

 The cardinal bows his head over and over, Thanking his superior. 

“Now, Before we proceed with meeting our newest. I will have to run this through with Papa.”

 Said Imperator, turning herself towards a man draped in a white chasuble, the snoozing man’s makeup had faded into the shape of a skull; slumped and slouched in a decadent red and gold Throne, his Mitre teetering on his head as he snored loudly.

 “Oh y-yes! Right, right, Papa…”

the cardinal gleefully whispered to himself. 

“Papa?”

 Called Imperator, but there was no answer. Just a loud snort. 

“Papa??” 

Sister asked again; Her patience dwindling. Only being surmounted by another hoarse growl from the worm out Popestar. 

“Papa!”

 Imperator shouted. Startling the poor old coot awake, Sputtering and stammering at his surroundings while keeping his flimsy mitre on his head from falling off; Accidentally spooking the steadfast twins that sat by his side. 

“Yes, Sister?”

 He snorted, Sister Imperator remained still holding her hand out. 

“Papa, We ask of you to bless this beast for they are our newest addition to the Clergy.”

 The Priest begrudgingly stands himself up with the help of the twins. 

“Fine, but you didn’t have to be so mean about it.”

 He muttered, rolling his clouded eyes before taking a huff from an oxygen tank. Slowly standing himself before the cloaked creature. 

“Come forward, my child.”

 He bellowed, Holding his hands over the Draped demon as they bent their concealed head down. With a lick of his lips, he recited the blessing.

“Dies irae, dies illa

Solvet saeclum in favilla

Teste Satan cum Sibylla

Quantos taetris este futeres

Quando ventas est venturus

Animus....Dies irae, dies illa.” 

“Thank you, Papa, You may go rest now.”

 Thanked Sister, bowing in gratitude. Papa lowers his hands to his sides, and walks away with Imperator, helping him out of the room with the twins following close behind. Sister turns to The Cardinal and says

 “You may now proceed as we intended Cardinal; I wish you the best of luck!”

 Before returning her attention to the stumbling skeleton priest. Copia turns to the Blanketed ghoul observing it as if it were a sculpture forged by the fires of the inferno. Unsure of what to do next, The Cardinal fiddles with his hands a bit, calling over two fellow ghouls to observe the process. One is imposing yet approachable bearing rings on both hands. With the other shrouded in singed scales that disregarded being that of a shorter stature. With both of them holding a silver mask in their hands. The Cardinal clears his throat softly claps his gloved hands together and speaks. 

“Er…Please, please stand, Dear Ghoul.”

 Stammered The Cardinal as the Ghoul arose and stood tall. Towering over him 

much to his surprise. 

“P-Please allow me to er…remove your veil...”

 he said reaching for the silky piece that concealed the Ghoul's face. Slowly, but ever so surely, he lifts the layer of linen revealing the ghoul's face. Their eyes fluttered open as they looked around the chamber, Curious of their new surroundings.

 “Welcome home, dear ghoul.”

 Said the Cardinal as he fully flipped the white dressing over the Ghoul's head, exposing their newly sprouted horns, dark curled hair that reached their shoulders, and long floppy ears that blessed their collar. He softly grabs ahold of their hand, placing his other on top, and rubbing his thumb across their grey fur. 

“May I ask your name, dear ghoul?”

 Asked The Cardinal. The ghoul’s lips wiggled as they tried to form some sort of word. 

“D-d-Dom..m-mino…” 

“Domino?”

 Clarified the Cardinal as the ghoul bobbed their head in agreement. 

“You have a lovely name, Domino…If I may, Are you eh..?”

 The Cardinal asked, waving a Hand. 

“I-I…am F-Female…I wish to be Female.”

 “Wonderful! You’ll have to meet your fellow Ghoulettes ASAP! As they say, haha…”

 giggled the Cardinal as Domino stared blankly at him, unamused by his jest. The Cardinal’s laughter recedes and recollects himself. 

“Ah! I nearly eh…forgot my dear Domino, please, accept this as a token of our excitement to have you with us.”

 Said The Cardinal as he handed Domino a reflective Helm that bore horns and swooping silver hair; Thanking and dismissing the ghouls that stood by him. Taking a closer look at the helm, Domino gazed upon her reflection. Looking deep into the darkness that was her own eyes. She shrieks and drops the Mask, shattering it into hundreds of shiny pieces. Stricken with fear, Domino begins to stutter and stammer an apology but only manages to squeak out a meager 

“Sorry.”

 As tears welled up in her eyes. The Cardinal observes the bits of silver that now cluttered the floor he stood on, and glances at Domino, holding her hand while tapping it. 

“Please, forgive me. I was…not aware that you would react this way…Please, There’s no need to cry, We’ll er…get to that later. I uh get someone to clean this up later, Okay?”

 “O-Okay.”

 Domino squeaked between stifled sniffles. The Cardinal chuckles softly as another Masked ghoul comes to his side and whispers in his ear. It’s quick and indiscernible, however discernible enough to warrant The Cardinal’s complete and undivided attention.

 “Oh, uh… please excuse me, My dear Domino, It seems I have some important business to attend to. Now while I may not be able to show you around, I will entrust one of my best to eh…finish the job! Yes.”

 Turning his head to the Chamber walls, The Cardinal calls out to the Women who were lined up against the walls. 

“Sister Ophelia? Could you come here for a moment please?”

 Taking only a moment, a figure from the darkness emerged as a Nun, all clad in cloak, Hopefully not as secretive as her dark orange hair poked out of her Serre-tête, Her face being lathered in the same white and black paint as the Elderly pope that had run off earlier only it looked more lively and less…Old. 

“Yes, Cardinal?”

 Spoke the sister, whose voice could calm the tremors of hell. The Cardinal turns to her and holds her hands. 

“Would you be so kind as to show Domino to her quarters? I would assume that being summoned is not an easy trip, yes? So…eh I say that she should eh…get some rest…No?”

 The Nun bows her head, 

“Certainly Cardinal, It would be my pleasure.”

 The Cardinal graciously thanks the Sister and walks away with the Messenger Ghoul, Leaving only Domino and Sister Ophelia standing at the altar. Ophelia wraps her arm around Domino’s, looking up at her. 

“Let’s get you situated, shall we?”

 Domino looks towards Ophelia, staring deep into the enthralling jade green that was her eyes. She nods her head in agreement as Ophelia softly smiles back and signals to the other Nuns to clear a path. With both arms locked, they made their descent from the altar and through the rows of sisters. strolling through the grandiose overarching oak doors that were peppered with etchings and lettering that pulled away into the vast hallway where the fellow Ghouls had awaited their arrival. The way they clamored over the newly summoned was something to behold like a surprise party dialed to eleven. Sister Ophelia smiled gleefully, waving to her ghoulish colleagues as she made her way down the corridor with Domino in tow, who looked a bit overwhelmed with the grandeur of the Ministry. After a short walk through the gardens and clergy courtyard, Ophelia stops and stands in front of a door. 

“And this is where you’ll be sleeping Domino! Please, don’t hesitate to let me know if anything isn’t to your liking, K?”

 Domino nods her head. Fiddling with the fluff on her hands. 

“O-Okay…”

 Ophelia smiles softly and holds her hands. 

“Great! I’ll be back later to check up on you, There’s a fresh change of clothes on your bed. I bet those robes feel itchy against your fur, yeah? In the meantime, do make yourself feel at home, If you have any questions, I’ll just be down the hall to the right. K? ”

 Said Ophelia as she let go of her grasp on Domino, bowing to her before walking further into the hallway lined with Doors. Domino raises a hand saying a clear 

“T-Thank you!”

 To Ophelia; turning her head and smiling as she left the Corridor. Left alone at the door, Domino softly huffs to herself and fidgets with the door’s knob, Opening it with ease. Nearly hitting the frame, Domino crouches under it and Observes their neatly made room. With it, lay a couch, a bed, a bathroom, a bookshelf, and a window that stood above all else, peering out into the wilderness, with a shimmering vibrant green as the sun shone through the leaves and hit the hardwood floors. Slowly stepping her way further into the dorm, Domino sits at the foot of her bed, putting aside the neatly folded stack of clothes. Gazing out into the trees, Domino admires their ever-flowing movement as the branches dance to the rhythm of the wind. Slowly putting a finger to her lip, she whispers a soft “Pretty…” under her breath. Maybe…Just Maybe, this won’t be so scary after all.

[kookiecrumb]

jjk || Things I Didn't Say

pairing: jungkook x male!reader

summary: You and your best friend decide to do a one night stand as an experiment and uncover hidden chemistry.

tags: implied smut (18+), best friends to lovers, drabble

-

Jungkook stands before you in a transforming grin, trying to grasp the profound realization of total infatuation. 

"I didn't know you looked like that. I didn't know you could," he says, under his breath. His gaze is seemingly absent, inspiration has struck in his mind. 

He knows exactly where he'd like to squeeze you. 

He bites his lip softly, tearing himself from your body to recognize the face of his best friend. Never in a million years would he picture you like this. 

Oh, but now…it is all that penetrates his thoughts. 

"I've felt this way forever. I've always thought that you touched me a little too carefully. I've always noticed the lingering hand when you and I ate anywhere–" you smirk, "anywhere where some other guy might want to touch me. No, they can't…because I'm yours, aren't I?" 

Jungkook exhales, his body shivering. He stands in a slanted line against the bedroom chair, trying to keep cool. 

"That's okay," you say. "I love it." 

"I'm not really…gay like that," he mumbles in uncertainty, tilting his head. 

"It's okay to learn things about yourself." 

"I'm 25," he replies, interrupting you. 

"I was 21," you rebute. "And it's only for you, it was always only for you." 

"Always?" He furrows his eyebrows. 

You hold your tongue. 

-

@kooliv , @koobsessed , @angelwonie , @hoseokgrecns , @bangsterz , @swyseren, @sxtaep , @koostarcandy , @hgema , @micarinitodemiel , @jjkeverlast , @armys-dna , @nglmrk , @devilsbooksworld , @saweetspoiled , @bruisedscrewedandtattooed and @unicornbabylover

[theomnicode]

I have this feeling..

I've been scouring through the OVA's and other stuff a bunch and came up with bunch of pieces here and there. Nothing very concrete and mostly guesswork.

WC spoilers ahead.

The title may be reference to Dr.Kuseno.

The "kuse" in Kuseno sounds exactly like "kusee" (くせー) an impolite form of "kusai" (臭い) that means "stinky" while the "no" has no direct translation (most likely the common Japanese name ending 野 meaning "field").

That's why his name is Dr.Stench in english translations.

I just got this sudden feeling about this particular wordplay in this OVA and how it zoomed in on Genos' ears. Pitch is also a type of field.

"That's "me", Master. That's the note for "me"!"

If y'all remember that there is still an unrevealed, specific function to Genos earrings. And it still hasn't been revealed even in WC, where Kuseno has died.

I have a feeling...that it is a testament.

A voice recorded testament or a holographic one. One that is sealed until the death of Kuseno and Saitama is the trustee in said will and it may only open when Saitama says a key word or make a key sound. Since Kuseno saw Genos as his grandson but he seemingly has no known family of his own, he would have made contingency plans so Genos could inherit his research and stuff, so he could actually continue to remain self-sufficient as a cyborg. Or should have at least, he knows he has enemies.

Question: When did Genos got his piercings? ONE: After he became a cyborg Q: Do Genos' piercings have a purpose? A: They do have a purpose, but it's a secret for now. Q: Why does Genos wear studs? A: It's a secret. There are settings for the studs but can't be revealed yet.

Now how could Saitama be able to make a testament with Kuseno to Genos, when Genos has had these earrings on him this whole time and Kuseno barely even knows Saitama?

Simple.

Time travel.

And it'll be all related to the Mad Cyborg, Kuseno and Genos' arch nemesis, I bet. Maybe Saitama's past too.

Wouldn't it be something if Saitama was actually involved in the whole Mad cyborg debacle of the past and was unintentionally responsible for the creation of cyborg Genos in the first place?

That would be some Back to the Future type of shenanigans.

As for why such a testament couldn't just be implemented elsewhere...I imagine it had to be kept secret and safeguarded and in case other physical records of testament got destroyed. Then there may be a reason why it had to be always kept on Genos person, just from its importance alone. But also because it might be contested if Kuseno actually HAS any relatives left.

Who bets Metal Knight, Dr.Bofoi, is a cousin or something and ex-colleague? There's a lot of Dr.Light and Dr.Wily feels in the duo.

Since Kuseno is a parental figure of Genos, he 100% knows by now, that Genos is totally gay for Saitama, no questions asked. It's all Genos ever talks about to Kuseno apparently. Even if he was wrong in this assesment, it would paint that kind of picture certainly.

The concept of the freedom of disposition by will, familiar as it is in modern England and the United States, both generally considered common law systems, is by no means universal. In fact, complete freedom is the exception rather than the rule.[3]: 654  Civil law systems often put some restrictions on the possibilities of disposal; see for example "Forced heirship". LGBT advocates have pointed to the inheritance rights of spouses as desirable for same-sex couples as well, through same-sex marriage or civil unions. Opponents of such advocacy rebut this claim by pointing to the ability of same-sex couples to disperse their assets by will. Historically, however, it was observed that "[e]ven if a same-sex partner executes a will, there is risk that the survivor will face prejudice in court when disgruntled heirs challenge the will",[4] with courts being more willing to strike down wills leaving property to a same-sex partner on such grounds as incapacity or undue influence.

There is a scene in WC that may be seen in different light with this in mind. When Kuseno asks Saitama to take care of Genos for him.

Kuseno giving his blessing for ther relationship as testator would give this will some legal ground to remain unchallenged in court, in case Genos and Saitama actually ended up together. It may also be a case of forced heirship.

That's a lot to infer from Saitama legit only asking Kuseno to take his shoes off and saying it's nice to meet him. Then he immediately starts commenting about companions because he got emotional.

When every other person always misjudges Saitama at a glance.

And he immediately comes bearing gifts (which he procured despite coming in full battle suit and after receiving distress signal, which makes it seem like he wasn't too worried or in a hurry anyway), saying its a gift for always taking care of Genos.

But how can he say that when Genos always comes to his lab wrecked? Multiple times a day even? Especially after Tournament and Elder Centipede where Saitama definitely WASN'T taking care of Genos?

You'd think that seeing Genos always being wrecked since he got in contact with Saitama, he'd think the opposite. But nah, Saitama on default is "amazing sensei".

Sure, he could have been listening to Genos drone on about Saitama a lot but still...

Kuseno knows something we don't.

[libraryofloveletters]

Brothers

In which, Luke develops feelings for Matt’s little sister. 

Luke Alvez x Reader, Brother!Matt Simmons x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, sibling banter, cm level of case details/violence, mentions of death, guns and gunshots, lots of pining, mentions of pregnancy and birth, kissing.

Category: fluff with a little bit of angst 

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: combined this request and this request to come up with this :) 

-----

The phone rang at what felt like quite literally the crack of dawn. “What?” you groaned when you picked up. “Where are you?” your brother’s voice filled your ear from the other side of the phone. 

“In bed, where else would I be at..” you pulled the phone away from your ear to check the time “5:56 in the morning?” 

Matt chuckled, “do you know a girl named Jenna Parker?” he asked. 

“I do, why ? Oh god, you're not cheating on Kristy right ? I swear if you’re calling to lie for you Matthew, I'll-” he cut you off.

“Shut up y/n and what did I tell you about calling me Matthew? I’m not cheating on Kristy you idiot, Jenna was killed last night” you sat up in bed, “What ? I saw her at dinner last night” 

“Stay where you are and get dressed. Agents will be at the hotel to collect your team for questioning” he told you. 

“Matt I had nothing to do with this, you know that right ?” 

“I know, standard procedure. I’ll see you later” he hung up. 

You dragged yourself out of bed and got dressed. Jenna’s face kept reappearing in your thoughts, she had only joined your team recently and she was an absolute sweetheart. She was telling you how excited she was to join the team last night at dinner. 

A knock on the door broke your thoughts, you unlocked it assuming that your brother had come to get you. 

This was most definitely not your brother. 

The man at your door had dark brown hair and tan skin.Something about his eyes made you want to stare into them forever, they were a soft brown mocha colour. He had a piece of paper in his hand, his finger ran across the page, “are you.. y/n?” he asked you 

“I am and you are?” 

“Agent Luke Alvez, I’m with the BAU. I’m here to pick you up for questioning” 

“Oh yeah, get me one second” you turned around and headed back into your room, Luke followed you in. “Ever heard of privacy ?” you picked up your phone and a sweater. “Oh sorry, I can’t let you in here by yourself until we processed you” he explained to you. “Lovely” you pulled on your sweater, he motioned for you to head out of the room. 

You stepped out first, he shut your door as the two of you walked down the hallway. “Your last name is Simmons ?” he looked over at you as you got on the elevator. “Mhm hm” you pulled your phone out to text your brother. 

To Matt: On my way now. Your friend is weird. 

From Matt: Who’s my friend ?

To Matt: Handsome guy with the pretty brown eyes, think his name is Luke 

From Matt: stop objectifying my friends, I'll see you soon. 

Luke didn't say anything else to you, the drive to the station was quiet except for you conducting your own little interrogation. 

“How long have you worked for the BAU ?” you looked out the window, 

“About 2 years now. How long have you been swimming ?” he rebutted. 

“My whole life” 

It did occur to Luke that you might be Matt’s little sister. He knew how proud Matt was of you and your swimming career, he also knew that Matt was supposed to see you this weekend while you were in D.C for training. After all, the sweater did say Simmons on the back, it couldn’t be a coincidence. 

Luke walked you into the station, the rest of your team was already there. “Hi, you must be y/n” a tall woman came up to you, she had short brown hair and she looked remarkably good considering how early it was.

“That would be me” you smiled at her, “you are?” she stuck her hand out for you, “Dr. Tara Lewis with the BAU” you shook her hand. 

“Nice to meet you Dr. Lewis” “You too”  

Tara excuses herself from you, Luke walks you over to a waiting area. All the girls were separated for obvious reasons but with nothing else to do, you figured you’d irritate Luke. 

“Why can’t I see the rest of my team?”

“Standard procedure” 

“And what is this standard procedure ?” 

“It’s-” “Stop harassing him y/n” your brother said as he walked into the room. 

You stood up and gave him a hug. It had been so long since you last saw your brother. 

“Hey you” he gave you a good squeeze, “hey” you smiled at him. 

Matt led you to a room and you took a seat at the table. “I can’t do your questioning because I'm your brother but I'm leaving you in good hands” Luke and Tara walked in a few moments after. “You’re leaving me with pretty eyes over here ? I might just get distracted and forget what he asked” you chuckle, Luke looks away but you manage to catch the blush you comment caused. 

“Behave y/n, I'll be back later” Matt kissed the top of your head before walking out. 

Luke and Tara sit across from you. “How did you meet Jenna ?” Tara asked you, “she was on my swim team, she joined a few months ago” 

“Were the two of you close ?”

“Not really, we didn't hang outside of practice but we got along” 

“Is there anyone that would have a reason to hurt Jenna ?” Luke asked this time. 

You paused, something Jenna had said to another one of the girls cause caught your attention a while back. “Not that I know of but apparently someone had broken into her apartment a while back. She was telling one of the other girls and I heard them. She moved from there though” 

“Do you have the address ? I’ll have Garcia check if she filed a report” 

“47 Park Street, not sure what unit was hers” you drummed your fingers against the table. Tara’s phone rang and she excused herself before stepping out of the interrogation room. Luke was also on the phone but he stayed in the room, you took a moment to really look at him. He wore a black button up that fit him far too well for your liking, his hair was messy but not like he had just rolled out of bed, more like his hands had been through it a few times. His tongue ran across his lips while he talked on his phone. Luke's hands rested on the table, he spun the pen on the table around a few times before getting off the call. 

God were his hands pretty, the things you’d let him do to you with those hands

“Y/n ?” Luke’s voice broke your thoughts. 

“Hm?” 

“Do you know if Jenna was seeing anyone ? A boyfriend maybe ?”

“Um no boyfriend but she was seeing a girl she met through our coach” 

“Oh okay, do you know her name ?” 

“Erica, uh her last name started with a G ? I’m not really sure” 

“That’s fine, thank you. I’ll be back” was all he said before stepping out of the room. You watched as he walked out, he stood by the window talking to some skinny guy. 

Your definition of the perfect man was Luke and everything he seemed to be, but you doubted that anything could happen between the two of you. He seems to be ignoring your glances and your flirty remarks all morning. Matt was the other issue, never would he ever let you date anyone on his team, let alone one of his close friends. 

--

“Alvez!” Tara shouts as she meets him up by the suv “Hey, need a ride ? I'm headed to the crime scene” he asks her, she nods before getting in the car. The drive was quiet, Tara kept glancing over at Luke and snickering. 

“Okay c’mon, what is it ?” 

“Nothing” 

“You keep looking at me funny, what happened ? something on my face?” Luke runs his hand over his face, Tara shakes her head. 

“Tara, what is it ?” 

“Luke, you’ve got a crush on Simmons” she laughs. 

“Matt ? I don't have a crush on Matt”

“No you idiot, y/n. You have a crush on y/n” 

“What? No I don't” 

Okay maybe Luke did have a tiny crush on her but Matt would never approve of him dating his little sister and he wouldn't let a crush affect his work life. 

“Alvez, don’t act stupid. I know I wasn't the only one noticing the glances between you two, I saw them since the two of you came in this morning. And that ‘pretty eyes’ comment ? she totally made you blush” Tara chuckled, “she’s into you dude, and you’re into her” 

“She’s Matt’s sister Tara, I’m not gonna do that” 

“So what if she’s Matt’s sister? She’s her own person. Matt doesn’t control her Luke.” 

Luke just hummed, Tara did have a valid point. Y/n was a grown up, she can make her own decisions. So what if Matt was mad at them ? 

God Alvez, what are you thinking ? That’s his sister, you couldn’t do that to him. 

Luke pulled into the hotel parking lot. He followed Tara inside but he wasn’t paying attention. He was there but he wasn't really there, his mind kept wandering back to y/n. 

Oh how he envied Spencer in that moment, he knew that he wouldn't remember how y/n looked exactly when he first met her but he’d keep that memory for as long as he could remember it. Her shuffling feet, her messy hair and her sleep laced voice, she seemed like an angel on earth to him. 

---

“Kid?” an older man shook your shoulder gently. “Hm, what is it ?” you stretched, you must have fallen asleep after Luke left. “you can leave, maybe get some rest when you get back to the hotel” the man chuckled, and you smiled at him. 

“Thank you,” you looked at his badge, “Agent Rossi” you finished your sentence. 

“Please just Dave” he smiled and opened the door for you, you stepped out of the room. “You’re Matt’s sister aren’t you ?” 

“That would be me” 

“He’s outside. He should be able to give you a ride back to the hotel, if not, I'm in here” Dave told you. 

“Thank you, it was nice meeting you” 

“You too kid” he patted your back and headed in the opposite direction. 

You walked out of the station to see your brother and Luke standing by the suv talking about something. “Hey ugly” you poked Matt’s side, “hey tiny” he hit your arm playfully making you pout. “I’m not tiny” 

“oh but you are” 

“shut it Matthew, I need a ride” 

“Where to ?” 

“My bed bro, Dave said I could leave” 

“You’re on a first name basis with my colleagues?” 

“Jealous that they’ll like me better?” you raised your eyebrows and held back a laugh. 

“Oh yeah totally oh my god, y/n please don’t take my friends from me” Matt said sarcastically while giving your shoulder a little nudge. 

Luke chuckled at the both of you and your banter, it was sweet how close the two of you were.

Your sweet moment was ruined by the sound of bullets hitting the suv. Matt’s first instinct was to wrap his arms around you, Luke stood there with his gun drawn and no one in sight except you and Matt. 

“What the hell was that ?” Luke asked, he stepped back taking a look around once more and turned back to you and Matt. “Are you okay ?” Matt asked you with his arms still around you, you nodded. “Are you okay ?” you asked him but your eyes were on Luke. Luke noticed your look and gave you a little nod, “I'm fine, let’s get you back” 

Luke left you and Matt in the parking lot with the keys to his suv before heading into the station to get Emily. Matt drove you back to the hotel, you sat in the parking lot with him for a while, Matt was showing you pictures of the kids and how big they’ve gotten. You had yet to meet the newest addition to the Simmons family, the little one that has yet to be born but it’s like the baby is already here. Matt was so excited even though this was the 4th time Kristy would be giving birth.

“You’re going to be okay ?” Matt asked you as he walked you to your room 

“Yeah, I'll be okay Matt” 

“You know what to do if you need anything right ?” 

“Yes Matt, I'll call my super cool FBI agent for a brother to come rescue me” you laughed making Matt roll his eyes.

“That’s exactly what you’ll do, now you’re sure you don’t want to come back to my place ? Kristy and the kids are at home and I’m sure they’d love to see their aunt” 

“Hm, maybe. Let me get my stuff ?” 

“I’ll help” 

Matt walked into your room and helped you gather your things before heading back to the suv and driving you to his place. “Babe!” Matt called as he walked into the house, “Shh the kids just went down for a nap, they were playing outside all day” Kristy told him, giving him a hug. 

“Is the case over already ?” she asked him, he shook his head. 

“No, just had to bring our guest over” 

Right on cue, you walked in with your bags. “Hey pretty lady!” you pulled Kristy into a hug, “Hey you!” she hugged you back, well as best as she could considering she had a huge bump right now. “Ready to pop yet ?” you laughed with your hand on her belly. “Just about, I told him no more after this one” she gave Matt a look and he just shrugged. 

“I can’t help it, you’re just so-” Matt started but you cut him off

“Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross, I don’t wanna hear that” 

Matt and Kristy laughed at your comment, Matt headed back out to work while you helped Kristy make dinner for your little rug rats.

--- 

Luke sat in the conference room when Matt came back. “Hey man, where’s your sister?” he glanced at Matt, “she’s at my place with Kristy and the kids” he told him. Luke let out an ‘oh’ that sounded rather sad. 

“You okay man ?” 

“Oh yeah, I'm fine” 

“Then what’s with the sad look on your face ?” 

Matt sat across from Luke waiting for his answer. Luke contemplated if he could tell Matt what was really on his mind or if he should make up something. Would he be mad if I liked her ? The voice rang through his head over and over again.  “She’s her own person. Matt doesn’t control her Luke.” Tara’s words came back to him. He should just tell him how he feels, he doesn't want to lie to him. 

“Is your sister seeing anyone ?” Luke blurts out much more awkwardly than he’d expected, Matt gave him a weird look. 

“I don't think so, why do you ask ?” Matt looked over at him 

“Oh just cause the case, gotta cover all the bases” Luke lied 

“Are you sure that’s the reason you’re asking me about her ?” 

Did Matt know ? No, he couldn't know. He played it cool. Oh what was he thinking? Tara figured it out, Luke’s sure Matt did too. 

“What do you mean ?” Luke avoids Matt’s stare, instead he busies himself with the papers scattered across the table. 

“You know exactly what I mean Luke.” Luke’s eyes met Matt’s, Luke knew that Matt knew and he couldn't bullshit his way out of this one. “Come on” Matt stood up, Luke mirrored his actions. “Where are we going ?” 

“Just come with me” 

The two men walked out of the station and got into the car. They were now 15 minutes into their ride and Matt has yet to tell Luke where they're going. Luke looks over at him, “I know you like her” Matt says quietly. “I do” Luke replies. 

The rest of the drive is silent, Matt pulls into his driveway. 

“Tell her” was all Matt said to him

“Tell her what?” 

“Tell her you like her, you both deserve happiness. I trust her judgement, she always did know what was good for her and you, I trust you with my life man, I can trust you with her” Matt told him before getting out of the car. Luke stayed in the car for a few minutes gathering his thoughts before headed into the house. 

“Hey” he smiled at Kristy who was in the living room, she looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. 

“Hey Luke, how are you ?” 

“I’m good, how are you ?” 

“Very pregnant” she laughed, Luke chuckled making his way over to her and gave her a hug. Kristy knew why he was there, Matt wasn’t the only one with profiling skills in the house. 

“She’s in the backyard” Kristy gave Luke’s hand a squeeze, Luke had an amused look on his face as if Kristy wasn't supposed to know about his crush on y/n. Luke whispered a thank you to her before heading to the backyard. 

You sat on the swing hanging from the tree, you had been there when Matt put it up. Kristy had a vision of a swing from her tree and Matt being the husband he is, made her vision a reality. The sound of footsteps filled your ears, too heavy to be Kristy or the kids and too light to be Matt’s, you look up to see Luke standing in front of you. 

“Hey there agent, here to arrest me ?” you stick your hands out in front of you, the blush you saw this morning was back. “Kidding Luke, what’s up ?” you asked him, he leaned against the tree watching you swing back and forth. 

“Just wanted to see how you were doing after this afternoon” 

“Oh the parking lot thing ? I'm fine, are you okay ?” 

“I’m good too” 

Silence filled the air, you swung back and forth on the swing while your feet dangled above the ground. Luke stood in front of you, his hands on the rope stopping you from swinging again. You looked up at the man who was looking down at you. 

“I came here to tell you something” Luke says.

“I’m listening” you look at him.

“I like you” he admits.

“That’s cool, I like you too” you reply casually.

Luke gives you a look, only then did you realize that he meant he liked you, as in he was attracted to you and not he likes you as a friend. “Oh you like like me?” you said making Luke chuckle, “yes y/n, I like like you” he admitted to you. 

This whole scene made you feel rather childish in some ways. Your older brother’s friend was towering over you while you sat on a swing like a child and he admitted he had feelings for you, especially after you asked if he “like likes’ you. 

“Well for your information, I don’t like you” you said rather bluntly. Luke’s smile dropped from his face. “Oh okay” he turned on his heels and made his way to the fence, you sat on the swing and realized he wasn't coming back towards you. 

“Luke!” you shouted as you ran after him, meeting on the front lawn, he stopped and looked at you. “I was only kidding” your hands cupped his face, “I do like you, a lot.” you admitted. 

“Do you like like me though y/n?” he asked seriously. 

“Yes Luke, I like like you” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Luke pulled you closer to him by your waist as he leaned down towards you. You were on your tiptoes, his hands on your hips to hold you before you toppled over. Luke’s lips met yours right as the sprinklers on the front lawn turned on. 

The two of you stood on the lawn, the sprinklers soaking your clothes without a care in the world.

All you could think about was Luke. 

----

taglist: @aaronhotchnerr​ @mac99martin​ @aaron-hotchner187​ @luke-alvez​ @iconicc​ @tclaerh​ @lieberhers​ @pumpkin-reads​ @ssa-holmes​ @katexrichardson​ @sluttytears​ @thelukealvez​ @scandinavian-punk​ @haleymalaffey​ @sunnymulti

[duckugou]

golden

Kenma x GN!reader

Im trying to stray away from my comfort zone of just writing readers that use she/her so bear with me

sorry if this lowkey sucks but it was inspired by harry styles song golden

cw: big cursing, huge fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, comfort, aged up!

come to my asks to be a part of my taglist! just let me know what kinds of fics/ what fandom/ what characters/ etc you want to be tagged in!

Requests are open!!

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

Being a streamer comes with perks. Being comfy at home, not having to face people in real life every day, playing games, typical shit. Another perk is making good friends.

Meeting people on a voice chat is common for Kenma -guys and gals alike. What he wasnt expecting one night was the sweetest voice on the other end of his headphones.

"You're all fucks- I'm better at this game than all of you combined. Try me."

To think that was the sentence that made Kenma's ears perk up and burn.

"What the hell ever- we have the great Kodzuken on our side." One of the guys said, half joking half dead serious.

"Oh yeah, he isn't even speaking up to defend your pussy asses- probably knows I could beat him too." You could hear the smirk in that last part.

"U-uh, no. You can't beat me. Nobody can actually. Not at this game." Kenma rebutted , confident in his gaming skills but not so much his speaking skills to this stranger.

"Oh man, you certainly sound confident. Come on, Kodzuken- 1v1 me then. Show me who the best really is."

Kenma suddenly felt nervous. Should he really demolish this stranger? Isn't it polite to let the person you like win? He didn't like this person yet but god their voice was attractive.

"Fine. Send the request." He decided.

"Sent, fucker."

The game resulted in a tie because this stranger actually knew what they were doing. They both threw friendly insults at each other the whole time of course, making each of them laugh a little.

"Okay fine. The great Kodzuken himself almost beat me. Im almost honored to have a great streamer almost beat me."

"Well you almost beat me too- uh-" Kenma stuttered over the fact that he didn't know how to address this stranger.

"Oh! Call me Y/n." The person giggled.

"You can uh, call me Kenma."

"Oh you don't want me to repeat your title over and over like everyone else?" They laughed.

"No, friends don't call me that. They use my name name." His ears were burning.

"Friends, huh? Guess that means you owe me your number so we can schedule a rematch where I can properly beat your ass."

"Huh, guess so."

A few months had gone by and Y/n and Kenma were as close as they could be. They found out they live close by each other and began hanging out a lot.

Y/n would be in the back of his streams on occasion and wouldn't hesitate to speak up during them. Thats the thing about Y/n. They've always been so outspoken. Since the start. Everything they talk about comes so easy to Y/n. Nothing is held back. Kenma knows everything about them. He on the other hand is still a bit closed off. Quiet. The two are so opposite yet so alike. Kenma doesn't speak much about himself, opting to listen.

Especially when talking about past relationships.

One night, they were sat in Kenmas room in separate chairs, letting conversations flow.

"So, you've dated but why have the relationships ended?" Y/n asked.

"Ah, I dont know- its not important. Why did yours end?" Kenma flipped the question as he always does.

"One guy cheated," Y/n tossed a piece of popcorn in the air, missing their mouth and brushing it off. "One girl left because she was leaving for school, and one guy just didn't mesh with me. Your turn." Y/n pushed the question back.

"Uh- well. I don't click with people easily. I'm pretty closed off so when I date it usually ends in hurt feelings by accident or they get sick of me." Kenma finally admitted.

"Huh." Y/n flopped onto their stomach on the bed after setting down the popcorn. "Don't you like anyone though? Like- if you liked someone enough, do you think you would give opening up a shot?"

"I mean I guess. Nobody ever takes the time to...pry me open." That got a laugh out of Y/n. Good. "But yeah I do like someone."

Sitting up suddenly, Y/n became visibly excited.

"TELL ME WHO."

"No god no- it isnt important." Kenmas ears burned again.

"Come onnnnn. Its gotta be someone big time cool to earn your heart. I have to approve."

Y/n pulled Kenma from his chair to the bed, not letting go of his hand as he sat down.

"Theyre very cool- and very sweet. Understanding. Someone who stands up for me and makes me comfortable-" Kenma began gushing.

"Do I know them?" Y/n interrupted.

"Y-yeah. You sure do." Kenma scratched the back of his neck.

"Oooh ok, a guessing game. Describe them more- their looks!" Y/n held his hand tighter, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Well- ok." Kenma took a deep breath and decided he could be vague enough. "Theyre short. As short if not shorter than me. Competitive. Very cute smile-"

"TOO VAGUE give me the JUICY DETAILS" Y/n pushed.

"They uh- they have..pretty eyes." He was staring at this point, eyes wandering around Y/ns face to find more things to describe. "cute nose too I guess. Squishy cheeks. Glasse-"

"WHO THE HELL IS IT KENMA- its starting to sound like youre describing me." Y/n laughed.

"No- I'm totally not!" Kenma rushed.

"Tell this person you like them. You look so happy when you talk about them. Its kind of sickening."

"I can't just do that." Kenma stated flatly.

"Yeah you can."

"No-"

"DO ITTTT. Nothing to be scared of- it's CUTE. They would be dumb to not like you."

Kenma sighed, knowing he couldn't tell Y/n the truth about who he liked. What does he usually do when he's put in a corner like this? Oh thats right-

"Who do you like then Y/n?" He asked, proud of himself for deflecting again.

"Oh thats easy. You." Y/n said, letting go of his hand and laying back on the bed, leaving Kenma sitting up and stunned.

"What? No I mean a crush idiot. Who do you liiikkkeee?" Kenma pushed, hoping he didn't hear Y/n wrong.

"You, Kenma. I've had a crush since our first tie in a game. Thought that was obvious-"

Kenma flopped back on the bed as well. The both of them looking at each other.

"Oh. My person is uh... really... open and honest." Kenma said quietly.

"Is that why you wont tell them?" Y/n asked just as hushed.

"Yeah... what if right now they say yes but then their feelings change one day? That would hurt so bad. Worse than not telling them ever." He whispered.

There was silence. They knew what they both just admitted. Kenmas heart started racing. This might've fucked everything up. He might lose them. But they like him too so why is he so scared?

Y/n held his hand again.

"I know that youre scared because I'm so open...but hey... If you wanna give it a try..." Y/n whispered, scared about whether or not their honesty fucked them over.

"You might be right this time Y/n." Kenma whispered.

The space between them was closed due to both of them being drawn together like magnets in that moment. A sweet kiss.

"Let's try it then. I'll work on... being more open if you'd like." Kenma said.

"Kenma. I dont want you to change one bit. I like you the way you are."

Acceptance. It was the best thing Kenma has ever felt.

[cas-kingdom]

Jealousy

A/N: Set immediately after episode 8. Based on my own prompt for the writing challenge!

Find the OC version of this fic here.

Title: Jealousy

Summary: You meet Ciri, and you are less than happy.

Words: 1124

For the entirety of your life, it’d always been you, Geralt, and Roach.

There had never been anyone else, and there had never needed to be anyone else—apart from the occasional addition of Yennefer and Jaskier.

So, the fact that there was someone else now…was something difficult and not totally pleasurable to wrap your head around.

Geralt knew of your feelings towards Cirilla. Though you’d never met her, she was the child bound to the man you knew as your father, and, in an odd yet wholly understandable way, you felt threatened by her. To grow up the only human in your close-knit family and then suddenly be one of two was different, and people often shy away from that which they aren’t used to.

Yes, you had told Geralt that you supported him in his find for the princess, and you still did, but never once had you rebutted the fact that you would rather he leave her wherever she was and carry on with his life. Your life. The life you shared and now had to open to someone you neither knew nor cared for.

You’d met her when Geralt had taken her back to the farmhouse belonging to the man who’d helped heal him after his fight with the necrophage.

The man and his wife had cooked you dinner, and you had sat opposite the princess and beside Geralt, occasionally glancing up at her but not uttering a single word.

After dinner, you’d stepped outside, sat cross-legged on the wet grass, and stared up at the starless sky. It was peaceful to sit there for a while and just think, though Geralt had told you one too many times that thinking too much wasn’t always good. For you, anyway.

He came out about a half hour later and told you to follow him, which you had—not that he’d given you much choice in the matter. He’d led you behind the farmhouse, you lagging behind, and when you caught up, he was leading a beautiful gray horse out from the stable. He’d held the lead rein out to you and proclaimed that it was yours.

You stared at him. And stared. He stared back.

“Is Roach dying?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

He frowned. He blinked. “No.”

“Then why?”

Confusion shone on his usually stone face. “The old man was planning to sell her,” he said slowly, “but he gave her to me. Recompense for saving his life. I didn’t refuse as I thought you might like her.” He cocked his head after the words left his lips, eyes narrowing further as he fixed his stance. “What’s this about?”

“What’s ‘this’?” you asked.

“This…” He fumbled for an answer, not used to this kind of stubbornness from you. His hands waved around until he found a word. “You!” Granted, it wasn’t very good. “I’ve just told you this horse is yours, and you’re acting as though you’ve found out I’ve arranged for you to be married.”

You grit your jaw and released a long breath. “Are you giving it to me because there’ll be no room on Roach now that Cirilla’s here?”

Geralt’s deepened frown was all you really needed as an answer, and you felt your heart twist in your chest.

You had never found need in a second horse. You’d always had Roach, and Roach was sturdy enough for you both. He sat in the saddle, and you sat in front of him. That was as it had always been. And yes, of course you knew you’d likely not both fit on her for much longer, but still, no matter the significance, it still broke you the smallest bit to have something which had meant so much to you ripped away.

Change.

All because of you.

After your silence, Geralt gave you a firm, knowing look. “She’s lost everything, Y/N,” he told you, a meaningful tone to his voice. “The least I can do is offer her some comfort by riding with me. And besides—” He turned to look at the horse, who’d been silently standing beside him— “I thought you’d want your own. You’ve always said—”

“I don’t care what I’ve always said,” you interrupted.

“Jealousy will get you nowhere,” Geralt said harshly, and you scoffed.

“I’m not jealous,” you insisted, and he chuckled humourlessly, shaking his head.

“You’re complaining about the fact I’m giving you a horse because it means you don’t have to sit with me on Roach anymore.” At your lack of response, he nodded to himself, both eyebrows subconsciously rising. “We’ve talked about this,” he continued. “Nothing is going to make me care more for Ciri than you. And if for some… unimaginable reason I did, it wouldn’t be over something as trivial as who sits in front of me on my horse. Now…” He stretched his arm out. “Will you take the damn reins?”

You turned away from him and dropped your gaze to the ground. He rolled his eyes up to the heavens. “Well, shit, Y/N!” His irritation raged. “If you’re that adamant, I’ll give the fucking horse to the princess!”

“No!” you snapped your head to face him.

“You want it?”

“Yes!” you yelled back, and he thrust the reins to you.

“Then stop fucking complaining!”

“Fuck you!” You turned your back on him and came face-to-face with the horse’s long, beautifully silver nose. Its dappled coat shone in the candlelight of the barn, and its eyes, a cloudy blue, seemed to be looking into yours with an amity only an animal could show. You found yourself staring at them for a moment, sucking in a deep breath in an attempt to keep your tears behind that wall. You reached a hand out and pressed it to the horse’s nose, and immediately you felt a comfort seep into your skin.

A moment later you felt him behind him.

“What will you call her?” he asked quietly, the irritation obviously still there but lessened somewhat.

“She’s a mare?”

“Yes.”

You thought for a moment, absently moving your hand and running it down the animal’s neck. “Swift,” you decided after a short while.

Geralt didn’t respond, and you couldn’t see him, but he sighed and looked despondently at the back of your head. He stretched an arm out and gently grasped your shoulder, pulling you back until you bumped into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you against him, and rested his chin on top of your head.

“Your jealousy is endearing,” he said, “but unneeded.”

You leaned your head back. “I know.”

“Then stop worrying.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Hmm.”

“But I’ll try. I’m sorry. I still love you.”

“I know you do.”

Witcher Masterpost

December Writing Challenge Masterpost

[metalheadcowboy]

Psssstt….Tyler….Tyler what about Teddie omegaverse tho…🥺

Fine I’ll go on a tangent, but only for you Sam 😭💛

So, what I’m thinking is popular omega Tommy and nerdy beta Eddie.

Tommy whose fairly recent heartbreak with his former alpha, Carol Perkins, left a big, open wound in his heart that every alpha in Hawkins High wanted to fill. Tommy who got candy and sweet letters in his locker every morning from a new flock of contenders yearning for the omega to be theirs. Tommy who found all of this somewhat sweet somewhat pathetic. Tommy who, despite every alpha within a 20 mile radius practically throwing their knot at him, couldn't keep his eyes off of Eddie Munson.

Eddie, the quiet, long-haired grunge Junior who sat in the back of his economics class. Eddie who tapped his foot to any beat he could get his hands on. Eddie who chewed on the end of his pencil nervously during tests. Eddie who played DnD after school every Wednesday willingly, with those dorks Harrington played babysitter to these days. Eddie who barely gave Tommy the time of day, only talking to him if they happened to be paired together for a project, otherwise minding his own business. Eddie who Tommy swore held all the secrets of the universe in his eyes, and he just wanted to dive in.

Tommy had all the choices in the world, quite literally, and his heart was set on the one guy who couldn’t give less of a flying fuck about him. Just his luck, right?

No matter how many pencils he “accidentally” dropped and let roll beside Eddie’s desk, no matter how many long, unbreakable states he gave the other boy, no matter how many hints he dropped Eddie never took them. Whether it was rolling his eyes in playful annoyance or ignoring him all together.

But Eddie wasn’t dumb, not by any means. He knew what was going on, even if at first he didn’t believe it.

”He’s totally ass over tits for you, Edison,” Robin cooed , waggling her finger in the direction of Tommy who had been circling the historical fiction section of Family Video for the past fifteen minutes.

”That’s not my name, Rot Bin,” Eddie huffed, giving her an annoyed elbow to the bicep, nose still stuck deep into a comic Mike had let him borrow, not that he was into superhero’s enough to fully understand the plot anyways.

”She’s not wrong Eds,” Steve pointed out,”You ever seen Tommy pay attention in history, much less watch a war flick?“ Eddie glanced up, the older teen did have a point there. Last time he checked Tommy couldn’t even stay awake long enough in history to know what the hell he was learning about.

Eddie just scrunched up his nose and shook his head, “As if, Tommy’s such a dunce,” he spat in fake disgust, giving the freckled boy more hate than he might have deserved. But he had seen things, heard second hand stories of “Tommy this-“ “Tommy that-“ none of which ended in a nice, much less PG-13, way.

“Oh, c’mon, Tommy’s sweet,” Steve rebutted. He wasn’t lying, even if the guy could be a douche sometimes who wasn’t? Plus he saw the way he treated Carol, like she was a queen. He was a good, honest lover when it came down to it.

“Steve, that’s like calling vinegar sweet.” Steve chucked and shook his head, continuing to stock a cart to be put out on the shelf.

”I mean hey,“ Robin started,”Best case scenario he wants to take you out, worst case scenario he wants to get into your pants, sounds like a win, win to me, bucko.”

Eddie gasped almost comedically, slapping Robin on the knee. “Hey don’t shoot the messenger,” she pleaded, smelling the sudden change in the betas scent from neutral to on edge. It was clear that Tommy caught onto it too because he looked over at the group, with something akin to worry in his eyes.

”One more word and I fucking quit on your asses,“ Eddie declared, turning his back for one second to set down his comic before he heard a quickly whispered, “Don’t look now,” from Robin. Stupidly, he looked, and who else was standing at the counter but Tommy, Tommy and his signature warm, saltwater-sunshine scent that enticed Eddie more than it truly should have.

His smile was like a hyenas, like he wanted to eat you up and greet you all at once. Something about it scared Eddie shitless, but then he looked at his freckles and couldn’t help but give a soft smile back.

“What’s up, Hagan?” Eddie sighed, walking towards his side of the register, Tommy’s scent only getting stronger. It was clear the boy used no kind of scent blockers, not like the fancy suppressants Steve took, but he almost preferred it that way.

“Can I, uh-“ Tommy cleared his throat, “Talk to you?” Steve in all his years of being Tommy’s friend had never seen him so nervous, sweating to the point where his palms made a foggy imprint on the class display case.

“You kind of are,” Eddie spoke with an awkward laugh, tugging at one if his loose curls, another anxious tendency of his. Steve lightly, but abruptly kicked his ankle from his low vantage point, waggling his eyebrows where Tommy couldn’t see him, sending a burning red flush across Eddie’s cheeks.

“I mean- I meant can we talk outside,“ the freckled teens eyes flickered over to Robin who just grinned back at him with her knowing, shiteating grin that could make even an alpha cower.

Eddie didn’t know what to say, throat felt dry as words caught in his throat. He knows should have said ‘no’, knew what Tommy wanted to ask, and knew that he didn’t want that, or so he thought.

But his curiosity got the better of him, swept his feet and left him mouthing for words that weren’t there.

“Yeah?“ Eddie said, though it was more of a question as he looked over towards Robin who was giving him the craziest look he swears he’s ever seen, “Yeah, just- lemme grab my coat.“

Robin and Steve exchanged a quick look as Eddie grabbed his coat, rounded the corner as he shoved his arms into the leather sleeves before leaning in for a celebratory fist bump and the rest was history.