#none of that in a terrible way he's very fun to be around. but i wouldn't use the word “calm” yk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writeyouin · 3 months ago

Note

Oo I got something for TFO

If possible would you be open to doing a human s/o with D-16? Like the human came from another planet that was destroyed and they got stranded on Cybertron and somehow managed to end up in Iacon city?

D-16 (Megatron) x Reader – The Creature From Another World - Part 1 of 2

A/N – This is so much longer than I thought it would be. I think it may be the most fun, silly fic I’ve ever written and I am so happy that I got to write it. Also, SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THE TRANSFORMERS ONE MOVIE IN THE FINAL SEGMENT!

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

It was all Orion’s fault. Everything that was likely to get D-16 in trouble was his fault. It was always, ‘Hey, what if we searched the tunnels for something even more valuable than energon?’ Or ‘You want to come into the archives with me? Of course, I have a permit. It’s not like I would try breaking in… again.’

This time, the line that was sure to get D-16 into trouble was, “Hey bud, don’t tell anyone but I got us a pet!”

D-16 rubbed his helm exasperatedly, “A pet, Pax! Why can’t you just obey the rules for once.”

“Hey, there are no rules against keeping pets,” Orion said excitedly, heading over to his locker to retrieve the creature in question.

“Of course there aren’t! Because no one would be stupid enough to keep one!”

“You just haven’t seen it yet. It’s really cute.”

“I hope your spark eater tears off your face, Pax. I really do,” D-16 deadpanned.

“Not a spark eater,” Orion chuckled, then he began whispering into his locker, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt ya, little cutie. That’s it, settle down now.”

D-16 shook his head, “You’re gonna get demoted all the way down to the 40th sub-level and when you do, I’m not gonna save your sorry aft. Besides Pax, there isn’t enough energon to go around as is. How’re you gonna feed a pet?”

“That’s the thing,” Orion said eagerly. “It doesn’t fuel up on energon.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. What kind of thing doesn’t need energon?” D-16 asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him as he tried to peek over Orion’s shoulder at the so-called ‘pet’ he was trying to grab.

He heard some scrabbling, Orion said some more soothing words and then Orion turned around, holding a creature half his size around the waist in both servos.

“D-16, meet our new pet, Minitronus.”

“Minitronus!” D-16 said excitedly. He knew Orion had only picked the name to foster his attachment and ensure that he kept the creature a secret.

D-16 got close to Orion’s pet, resting his hands on his thighs as he bent down. “Whoa, what is it?”

“C’mon D-16. If you don’t know, I’m not gonna tell you.”

“You have no idea, do you.”

“Not a one.”

The creature chittered angrily, pushing at Orion’s servos.

“It looks angry,” D-16 observed.

“It’s just getting used to us. That’s all.”

Orion began stroking at the creature’s head.

“Okay Pax,” D-16 said, resigning himself to Orion’s crazy new pet, as he knew he would from the start. “C’mon then. Tell me all about it. What does it eat? Where’d you find it? And most importantly, how’re we going to keep it a secret?”

“Hey! I said HEY! YOU UP THERE! STOP PETTING ME! I’M NOT AN ANIMAL, YOU BIG DUMB IDIOT!”

The giant metal man smiled at you affectionately, opening his mouth to say something you couldn’t understand. It all sounded like scraping metal and electrical noises and you couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Ever since the Quintessons had abducted you, your life had been nothing but trouble. You were their prisoner but when they found out your planet had nothing of worth, they decided it would be better to experiment on you. The only consolation was that you could at least understand the Quintessons, who had multiple translator devices on their ship.

You were very fortunate that the Quintessons didn’t view you as a threat since they didn’t bother keeping you in any kind of high-security prison and so you managed to escape before they did anything too terrible. The worst you suffered were a few zaps from a weak cattle prod, probably testing your nervous system.

Yet, having escaped the Quintesson ship, you had landed yourself into deeper trouble. You had found yourself on a living metal planet, and though a few plants grew on the ever-transforming surface, the pocket computer you had stolen from your captors informed you they were poisonous.

Fortunately, you had thought a few things through regarding your escape. You had managed to grab a backpack, stuffing it full of provisions and interesting gadgets. The food was stored in dehydrated cubes so with proper care, it could last you months, maybe even an entire year. The backpack also contained a device to keep you warm, a cube that turned into a forcefield when thrown to the ground, and most importantly one of the translators that had allowed you to understand the Quintessons along with a few other gadgets.

However, despite your planning, things hadn’t gone very well for you. After touching down on the planet, you boarded a train that you hoped would take you to civilisation, and while it did take you to a city underground that was more beautiful and advanced than you could imagine, it was clear that the alien life-forms there had never seen an organic creature before.

The few you tried to talk to initially screamed as if you were vermin and tried to blast, stab, and crush you in succession. As you scrambled for your life, you took a kick to the back, saved by your pack which had broken your much-needed translator.

You ran and hid, keeping out of sight and soon you started feeling like the vermin the metal people viewed you as. You learned quickly to keep out of sight and made your way to where there were fewer bots, spending many quiet hours either sleeping in vents or trying to repair your translator with the limited knowledge you had.

Yet, your luck couldn’t last forever and eventually, you ran into a vent that turned out to be a transportation tunnel to and from the mines. It was there that Mr Big-Red-Idiot-Bot caught you and took you to the charging bays. At first, you thought your luck was turning around and that he was going to take you to someone who would be able to understand you since he was obviously trying to be gentle with you. Then it became clear that he just thought you were some kind of stupid animal in need of care and he adopted you as his pet.

“What are these things?” D-16 asked, gently lifting your top.

You slapped at his servo, swearing at him even though he couldn’t understand you. Orion laughed, “I don’t know, but that’s how it reacted to me too. I think they’re to keep it warm. Either way, it doesn’t like it when you touch them. Oh, and hey, check this out, it does tricks.”

Orion shoved you back into his locker where your bag was. You ran to your pack, hurriedly grabbing your broken translator and showing it to the new grey bot. You had tried repeatedly showing it to Big Red, but he didn’t get what you were trying to do and always just laughed at you.

“What’s it holding?” D-16 asked.

“Playing with some scrap metal. Isn’t that cute? It has a favourite toy! I think Minitronus might have belonged to someone else once because it has all these adorable toys in there and it can make its own fuel.”

You sighed. Clearly, the grey bot was no better than Big Red, but at least he wasn’t trying to kill you. You shook your head and began searching your pack for some tools to repair the translator. Upon seeing you grab a screwdriver, Orion took it from you.

You yelled a few more insults, demanding it back but Orion just teased you, holding it just out of reach.

“Aww does Minitronus want the toy? Do you? Do you? That’s it, reach for the toy. Grab it.” He cooed.

D-16 rolled his eyes, amused by both Orion and his new pet. He snatched the miniature ‘toy’ screwdriver from his friend, handing it back to you. “Don’t tease it, Orion.”

You nodded gratefully at D-16 and he ruffled your hair. This time, you didn’t bother insulting him since he had given you what you wanted.

The work alarm went off overhead and Orion slammed his locker shut just in time for the influx of workers to come through the shared stasis bunker on their way to work. D-16 tried to fight against the crowd to stay by the locker but Orion pulled him into the fray, muttering that it would look suspicious if he wasn’t at work on time.

“But what about- Will it be okay in there?” D-16 whispered as they headed into the lift.

“Sure,” Orion said from the corner of his mouth, trying to be quiet. “It’s been in there for days and it's been fine.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Now be quiet and act normal.”

D-16 smiled and gave a small awkward wave to a bot in front of him who was observing the pair with a raised optical ridge. Over the years, Orion had caused more than his share of trouble so D-16 was used to the scrutinising looks from others, though he always got nervous when they both had something to hide.

You sighed and rested your hands on your hips. It was awful being constantly stuffed in a locker, especially since Big Red didn’t seem to think things through. He shoved you in your new ‘home’ whenever other bots were around or when he went to the lift which you assumed meant he was working. The problem with that was that his species didn’t tire easily and could work a very long time, and with this being what you could only assume was the poorer part of the city, there were always other bots around. You had to get your translator fixed quickly, or else you would spend the rest of your life in the locker. Still, things weren’t all bad. It was warm and safe. You often used your backpack as a pillow, sleeping through the first few hours before getting back to your repair work. You had privacy and a personal collapsable service suite that pulled moisture from the air so you could drink or shower - it even took care of your waste by vaporising it; alien inventions sure were convenient. Besides, now the other bot knew about you too, and perhaps he could help you. Resignedly, you set about keeping to your normal routine and began some light repair work, too awake to rest now. You only wished you knew what you were doing and that you had even the faintest idea on how to fix alien technology; your life depended on it.

Orion and D-16 were the first up and out of the elevator, avoiding the usual crowds by skipping the last few minutes of work with a lame excuse about being called upstairs. Honestly, the pair got into so much trouble they were often called up to meetings with higher-ups for tellings-off, which Orion usually tried to talk his way out of, and so nobody so much as batted an optic when they left.

Upon getting up to their quarters, Orion and D-16 were both relieved to see that the rotation team had already filed out, presumably having taken one of the other lifts to a different mine. Orion ran to his locker and hurled it open.

“Aww, look,” He pulled D-16 close to get a good look at you. “Minitronus is recharging. Hey, do you think it’s dreaming of us? Pets do that, right? Dream of their owners?”

“I mean, if Minitronus is thinking of me, that’s a dream. If it’s you, it’s a nightmare.”

Orion elbowed D-16 in the chassis then reached in to grab you.

D-16 pulled him back, “Whoa hey, don’t wake it.”

“We have to. It’s time for walkies and this is the only time we can get out of here quietly before the others catch up.”

Reluctantly, D-16 let Orion go.

You jolted awake, terrified until you remembered where you were and that you were now the ‘pet’ of an advanced alien. You settled groggily in his arms, wondering what he was going to do with you now.

He proffered you some words that sounded like two lawnmowers smashing together, but by his expression, you could tell he was happy. Then he jostled you, miming something you couldn’t understand until it was too late.

You scowled at Big Red with your arms folded, too insulted to even try yelling as he tugged you along an empty alley on your new wire lead.

This was a new low.

“I don’t think Minitronus likes walkies,” D-16 commented as you dug your heels into the floor, trying to hold your ground.

“Nonsense,” Orion said, trying to be gentle as he pulled at your lead, making you stumble forward, “It’s just not used to it yet.”

D-16 patted his thighs, “C’mon Minitronus. That’s it. Here Minitronus. Minitronus.”

After a few more attempts, you realised that the gentle electrical hum Grey kept repeating must be his name for you. Huh… Well, at least the repetition meant they had a stable language.

You listened again and tried to mimic the sound, making both bots pause to look at you.

“Did it just…?” D-16 asked, pointing at you.

You mimicked the sound again.

“It did,” Orion agreed. He ran over to pick you up, spinning you in his arms, “Who’s a smart Minitronus, huh? Yes, you. You are!”

Although your mimicry had been good, it wasn’t quite enough to convince them that you were sentient. Rather, they were looking at you like a parrot who had picked up a new phrase. Instead of repeating your name, you had managed a babyish mumbling somewhere close, that sounded more like Mini–Tron.”

D-16 beamed and petted your head, quickly coming to love his new pet. Orion was right, it was smart and cute.

“That’s so cool, I wonder if we can teach it more words.”

“I’m definitely teaching it swears,” Orion laughed.

Eventually, the pair headed back to the underground, with Orion heading in first, making sure everyone was recharging, before signalling for D-16 to follow with you.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t put me back in the locker,” You whined as you were placed on the top shelf.

“Oh no, don’t cry,” D-16 begged, listening to you pitchy chittering. He held a digit to his lips, shushing.

“You two will be gone for ages, what between sleeping and working, and it’s dark in there,” You continued, even though he couldn’t understand you.

You only stopped talking when he held you against his chassis, petting your head. You sighed in understanding. He was trying to keep you safe; this was all for your own good.

‘Okay,’ You thought, feeling strangely comforted by Grey’s actions. ‘If this is how it has to be for now… Okay.’

Orion gave an enthusiastic thumbs up to D-16, glad that he had managed to keep your mewls under control.

“Goodnight, Minitronus,” Orion whispered before shutting the door.

“We love you,” D-16 added.

You shook your head after the door shut; life was going to be interesting with those two.

“PAX!” Elita-One shouted, jetpacking up the empty elevator shaft to catch up with Orion and D-16 who had stolen away from work early for the third time that week.

Orion held you behind his back, hiding you just in time before Elita got in his face.

“Captain, what a surprise!” Orion grinned cheekily, already trying to smooth-talk his way out of the situation. “Me and D-16 were just saying what a great and wonderful leader you-”

“Can it, Pax!” Elita glowered. “I’ve had just about enough of you. It’s bad enough that you’re a troublemaker but now, you’re dragging D-16 down with you and- what’s behind your back?”

“My back? Nothing at all,” Orion shoved you into D-16’s open arms, and he in turn hid you behind his leg, trusting that you wouldn’t run away if he wasn’t holding you.

Elita grabbed hold of Orion, slamming him into the lockers, her eyes narrowing when she didn’t see anything worth hiding. She glared at D-16 who held up his servos in a shrug, gesturing to Pax who was already babbling about how strong she was and how no other Captain had had the strength to throw him so hard.

While Pax created a distraction and Elita-One continued her tirade against him, D-16 shuffled backwards, sneaking you out for your daily walk.

You had grown used to the routine now, learning the building’s alarms that marked the beginning or end of a shift. When it was coming time for Orion or D-16 to take you out, you always hitched on your backpack, just in case you needed anything, though you had long since learned not to work on your translator in front of Big Red, since he kept assuming it was a toy and continually threw it for you to fetch. Honestly, he was doing even more damage to the already broken machine, and it stressed you out constantly whenever you were forced to catch it before it hit the ground.

When you and Grey were alone, you always did repair work at the end of a walk, since he would take you somewhere quiet to rest for a while.

You had been living with the pair for just over two months now and in that time a few things of note had happened.

First, they had entrusted knowledge of you to a few of the others in their ‘platoon’ or whatever the group they worked in was called. This had happened after an incident wherein you had escaped your locker to explore and a silver and blue bot with a passion for dance stumbled into you and squealed. Big Red, and Grey hurried to your rescue and had to explain their ‘pet’ to him.

This led to you being the worst kept secret in the mining facility, though it was bound to happen eventually with so many bots living in close quarters. However, all the mining bots found you sweet enough and they all had a code of honour that meant they kept you secret from anyone with authority like Elita-One or any of the other captains.

Yet, while everyone knew about you and you were generally allowed out of the locker most of the time, it was still only Orion or D-16 who took you out, and they still tried to get out of work a tad early to check on you.

One of the other changes in your life was the delivery of a big bundle of wires as ‘toys.’ That was another word you had learned to mimic since Orion kept bringing you play-things and repeating the Cybertronian equivalent.

This happened after you kept picking up pieces of scrap wire on walks, taking them with you so you could use them in your repair work. At first, Orion and D-16 took them off you, afraid you would hurt yourself somehow, but when you kept collecting them and fought hard to keep the few you had, they assumed it must be a normal nesting behaviour and brought you a great deal more than you needed.

You were delighted with the gifts and hugged both bots for it. Then, after saving the few you needed for your translator, you weaved the extra wires into a new over-shirt. It was uncomfortable, but quite practical since your jumper was wearing away and you needed a new one to keep decent when you were washing your actual shirt.

Another problem to occur was your hair. In your time with the bots, it had grown very long, and much to your bemusement, Orion had tried cutting it. The whole thing had gone disastrously, and you suddenly understood those dogs that got terrible haircuts because they tried to escape their groomers; you could only be thankful that the bald patch was beginning to grow back.

The final change was Grey’s idea. He felt confident that you were well trained since you now responded to your name, paying attention when you were called through the miners’ hab-suite. Because of your actions, he often let you off-lead, which you were immensely grateful for. He rarely put the lead back on you unless he thought something was unsafe, so whenever it went on now, you clambered onto his shoulder, trusting that he would take you home and away from danger quickly.

It wasn’t a perfect life, but things were slowly improving. You could only hope that your lucky streak didn’t break and that you would be able to communicate your needs fully before the year was up.

D-16 sighed, sitting on the side of a tall building overlooking the city with you in his lap. You were content to let him pet you while you toyed with your translator. You went in an almost trance-like state whenever you tinkered with it now, honestly not expecting anything to come of it but needing to work all the same.

He continued speaking in his gentle, rhythmic noises and you hummed as if you understood, pressing a wire down with the flat of your screwdriver.

“- and that’s why I know what we’re doing is important. Even Sentinel says so. Us miners, we’re keeping Cybertron alive,” D-16 said proudly.

“Who’s Sentinel?” You asked absentmindedly.

D-16 screamed, accidentally throwing you off his lap.

“Hey, be careful!” You scolded. “You could have dropped me over the edge.”

You picked up your translator and brushed yourself off.

“Minitronus, you’re talking!” D-16 accused.

“Yeah, well so…are… Oh my God, I did it!” You breathed. Then you punched the air excitedly, “I DID IT!”

“WHAT IS GOING ON? HOW ARE YOU TALKING?!”

“I fixed my translator,” You squealed ecstatically, waving it in front of D-16.

“Your- Your toy?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, practically bouncing on the spot.

“This is impossible. You- You’re our pet!”

“No. Not a pet. Not anymore. I’m (Y/N). Okay, (Y/N),” You repeated your name slowly, trying to get it through to Grey who still looked panicked.

“Primus, this is insane.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You’ve got to explain everything to me, right now.”

“Okay, sit down,” You patted the ledge.

D-16 did so, and you jumped back into his lap.

“What’re you doing? You can’t sit there now. You’re not an animal.”

“Hey,” You pushed against his servo, staying stubbornly in place, “I’m not going back on that ledge, I could fall.” “Fine,” D-16 relented. He went to pet your head again then stopped himself, keeping his servos stiffly by his sides. “As long as you explain yourself, you can sit wherever you want.”

Having told D-16 everything and had him explain a few things in return, things thankfully changed. Initially, things between you and all of the mining bots were awkward, with haunted comments from some of the bots like, ‘It saw me in the wash racks,’ or ‘I can’t believe I tried to rub its belly… No wonder it slapped me. Oh. Oh no.’

Once everyone got used to the idea, your life improved. You were still kept secret since none of the miners knew how the higher-ups would react to an alien species, but with some ingenuity and a few favours exchanged for information about your species and planet, they all came together to transform your locker into a proper living space, complete with all the amenities they could manage to scrape together. They even began forming a plan to try and have you off-planet and en-route somewhere you could survive before your supplies would run out.

After D-16 and Orion were over the weirdness, you still had them take you on your daily excursions, sans the lead since you were no longer their pet. Orion managed to laugh about the whole thing, but D-16 grew to be even more strained around you. However, you didn’t get to ask him about it till you were next alone with him, which was a long time afterwards.

“So… Do you hate me now?” You asked him one day while he walked a few paces ahead of you, keeping an eye out for anyone who he would need to hide you from.

“What?” D-16 sputtered. “I- I don’t-”

“It’s okay,” You smiled easily. “It’s a strange situation.”

D-16 felt his insides squeeze. He had held onto you while you slept. At the time, he thought you were cute. Now though… You were still cute when you slept, but it was a different kind of cute – Softer, somehow.

“I told you everything,” He sighed, defeatedly. “My life, my dreams, my fears.” He shook his head, continuing mournfully, “And you didn��t understand any of it.”

“Not true,” You contradicted, running to stand in front of him.

He watched you warily.

“I might not have known what you were saying, but I did understand you. Your tone, expressions, the sound of your voice. I understood more than you think.”

D-16’s spark pulsed.

“Let’s go home,” He said quickly, turning on his heel and walking away from you.

The two of you had to go where you wouldn’t be alone or things would change again.

D-16 was falling in love with you and he couldn’t let that happen. There were too many unknowns and he had his planet to think about. He was a miner – the life force of his planet. That’s what Sentinel Prime always said, and work came first.

Besides, you weren’t going to be on Cybertron forever. You couldn’t be. Once your supplies ran out, that would be it for you.

D-16 couldn’t get attached. It wasn’t like you were a pet anymore. You didn’t belong to him, even if he wanted you to.

You ran through the destruction of Iacon City, terrified by everything that was happening. Honestly, you had missed most of the events leading up to it, having been stuck in Sentinel’s tower, but you had seen the so-called Prime torture and brand D-16.

Afterwards, you tried to find him or Orion, but you were small and Iacon was big and the city was collapsing around you.

You screamed as you were grabbed seemingly from nowhere and looked up to see D-16, though he looked slightly different thanks to the new infusion of Megatronus’ T-Cog which you hadn’t seen him take from Sentinel’s corpse. Also, there was one other change – his angry red optics, which bore into you.

“D-16,” You shouted, “What’s going on? Where’s Orion?”

“Orion is dead,” He growled. Though he had made a promise that nobody else would be deceived, you needed to hear that lest you side with Orion over him. Besides, it wasn’t a lie. Orion was dead – Dead, and replaced by Optimus Prime. “And my name is Megatron.”

“Orion- Orion’s dead,” You repeated, too shell-shocked to even cry at the moment.

“Yes,” Megatron glossed over your emotions, far too focused on his rage as he transformed around you, keeping you safe inside his alt-mode. “And we’re leaving.”

“Where are we going?”

“To war!”

Yet, even as Megatron burned with hatred and his desire to bring down the corruption that fuelled his planet, he was already reading the intel sent by the disgraced High Guard, informing him of several nearby planets where you would be able to get the organic fuel you required to stay online.

Megatron had lost everything. He was not about to lose his beloved pet too. You were his, and you always would be.

A/N - Hey, I worked really hard on this so please comment, or at the very least reblog. Likes aren't enough anymore guys, they just aren't.

#fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #transformers #maccadam #tf one #transformers one #d 16 #orion pax #elita one #megatron #optimus prime #d-16 #d 16 x reader #megatron x reader #The Creature From Another World #part one #chapter one

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 9 months ago

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Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕

Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?

I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:

I did my best c: I hope you like it!

Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)

Word Count: 1538

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?

A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!

------

You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else.

Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places.

You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.

Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize.

They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.

You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in.

A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to.

You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods.

You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own.

For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly, and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things -

Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s?

Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous?

You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.

Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions.

It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself.

There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic.

Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side.

He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?”

You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.

“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary.

“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know?

“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.”

“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.”

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip.

“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?”

You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?”

Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.”

You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad.

“I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper.

“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew.

You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip.

“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?”

Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face.

Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?”

#spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x self insert

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azsazz · 5 months ago

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Over Ice

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: I think we could really have fun with the different courts and Illyrian values on a thematic basis but ALSO if the reader is in something very artsy and hasn’t really been into sports and then she’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!! She decides to wear Cass’ jersey to make him mad and when he finally gets a hold of her after the game: *cue innocent shrug* he asked me to!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3032

Notes: While I work on a plot for an azzy hockey x figure skater au, please enjoy a rhys hockey au 🤪

This was originally an Az idea but I thought it fit better for Rhys bby so here we are. I feel like I've forgotten how to write and this is shit (dont judge me im going thru smthin rn)

_________________________________________

A giant FU stares up at you.

Well, actually, it’s only an F, but it may as well be the former with the way it’s circled in thick, red ink.

Three. Fucking. Times.

Tears sting the back of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. It never feels good, failing, and even if you’d gotten a C+ like you hoped, you would’ve still beaten yourself up over the grade because plain and simple: that’s who you are.

Two months ago, at the beginning of the semester, psychology had seemed like a breeze. The lectures were easy to listen to and intriguing, and you had no trouble following along with the professors’ slideshows as you took detailed notes of everything on the screen. Your assigned readings were completed in a similar state, though they weren’t graded but included important information you’d find on the tests.

Somewhere along the line, your grade slipped, and you don’t remember if it had been between studying for Biology or reveling in your newfound freedom away from your parents, partying and enjoying a true college experience with your roommates.

Whatever happened, the repercussions are hitting you right in the face, the taunting letter you have never seen before on any of your assignments throughout all your years of learning.

If your parents saw this, they would bring the entire house down with their scolding.

It’s not like you didn’t try. You studied, even if the word is a loose term for what material you used. Things started piling up this month, with it being a new semester and all. You didn’t schedule out the time to focus on psychology when the classes you were really interested in—Introduction to Nutrition and Kinesiology—took first and second place for your attention. Plus, with the number of social events your best friends—who are also conveniently your roommates—invited you too, it was almost impossible to say no. Friends are a vital part of the college experience and you were in desperate need of some fun after having spent the summer lounging at home with your parents.

You found a psych support group that met at the library once a week to study together. It wasn’t anything like you thought it would be, a bunch of clueless students with grades similar to yours. All they seemed to want to do with your precious time was bitch and moan about the professor instead of actually trying to conquer the areas of study for the upcoming test.

And now the consequences of your actions have made themselves known.

Grumbling, you shove the test into your binder before shutting it with a snap that does nothing to ease your frustration. A few students still trail from the room, though most bolted right after being released. Some linger at the bottom of the lecture hall where the professor sits, answering their questions.

You have about a million-and-one of your own but you’re too worked up about your grade to go down there and hash it out with Mr. Hybern. His peppery colored hair is perfectly coiffed on this terrible day, his beard trimmed close to his jowls. His gleaming, golden skin makes you think that maybe he’d spent his weekend grading tests out in the sun, and you have half a mind to stomp your way down the stairs and demand a second review of your test.

It wouldn’t solve your irritation, and it would certainly be embarrassing if in fact your F is correct.

Placing your binder, notebook, and pens back into your bag, you zip it, sling it over your shoulder, and make your way to the exit, holding your chin high because if there’s one thing you’re not going to do, is cry over your terrible, awful grade in public.

The waterworks will just have to wait until you’re locked in your private bedroom in your shared dorm.

There is good news. It’s Friday, which means you can snag the pint of your favorite ice cream that your roommates won’t dare touch because ‘no ice cream that’s worth it should have fruit in it, that’s like asking for a steak on your spaghetti.’ You have no idea what Mor—one of your roommates—was on about when she brought up the awful comparison, and in reply all you’d done is scooped out a chunk of cherries embedded into the creamy, pink goodness and stuffed it into your mouth.

With it being the weekend, you can also wallow well into the night without having to worry about hiding your puffy eyes in the morning. You’ll have all day tomorrow to figure out a plan of action, once you allow yourself the time to properly grieve and process…and maybe have a drink or two.

You shoulder through the heavy lecture hall door with your head down, hiding the red stain to your cheeks. So, maybe you’re not going to hold you head high as you trail back to your dorm, but you will not cry.

The door swings open and you barely catch the noise of surprise before you’re barreling into something that’s akin to a brick wall. Your breath leaves your body in a whoosh and your balance slips out from under you, arms flailing as you fall.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never comes.

Slowly, mortified because you know exactly what’s cushioned your fall, you peek your eyes open, carefully meeting a sapphire gaze that surely would take your breath away should you have any left.

This close, you can see the perfection of his angular features: a long, straight nose, high cheekbones under the dusting of pink that caresses his own face. His lashes are dark as charcoal, the same color of his hair that looks as soft as silk.

Whatever it is that has you entranced by his beauty, the sentiment seems to be mutual. Those bright eyes trace across your features, carefully drinking you in. You don’t know if you’re thankful that your face is already as red as the marker on your test or if you want him to see the way your cheeks go molten.

There’s a warmth against your hips that you don’t notice until he speaks, his hands that have a solid grip around you, keeping you steady to his chest. His whispered breath brushes across your lips. “By all means,” he teases softly, “Take your time.”

“Oh, my Gods, I am so sorry,” you squeak, rolling off his chest. You can hear his chuckling as you scramble to climb to your feet, but your knees are so weak at the sight—and touch—of the most handsome man you’ve ever seen lifting gracefully to his feet, holding a hand down to help you up.

You try not to notice just how big his hand is in yours, and for the second time today, you fail.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says, displaying an easy grin that makes your heart stutter in your chest. The door opens with a loud click and the both of you startle. His hand comes down warmly on your spine, ushering you out of the way of the student that’s beaming grin falters into apology at the idea of almost running you down, already on the phone with someone and gushing over their test result.

It’s hard to reign in your glare.

The student’s conversation seems to jolt the man out of his stupor. He blinks, shaking his head as if to rid him of a spell you might have cast on him, or maybe he’s testing to see if he has a concussion from the fall.

When he returns his attention to you, it takes everything in your power not to melt into a puddle beneath that gaze.

“Is Mr. H still passing out tests?” he asks, and you swallow the sourness that accompanies the name of your professor. You and he are not on good terms right now, not that this boy knows that.

“Yeah,” you answer, remembering you saw him sitting on his throne (desk chair) with his loyal citizens (students) kissing his feet (talking through their tests). “I think so.” Then, because you’re pretty sure you would remember a face like his if he were in your lecture, you ask, “Are you in this class?”

“No,” he answers with a scoff that tells you he breezed by this class. “I took Psych 101 freshman year, but I have Professor Hybern again for Cognitive Psychology and I need to turn in my paper early.”

Turning in a paper early? What is he, some kind of genius?

“Oh,” you answer lamely, “Cool.”

His answering grin cracks open the casing of the butterflies you didn’t know were living in your stomach, taking off in a flurry of emotion.

He shrugs like he couldn’t really care less about any of it, but to you, the fact that he’s managed to pass Psych 101 at all is an impressive feat, though you don’t know why he’d sign up for even more torture. “Sure. Look, I’ve got to run, but are you sure you’re okay?”

It’s nice of him to ask if you’re okay when he’s the one who had his back painted to the floor only moments ago. “Yeah, I’m fine, but I should be the one asking you that. Are you okay?”

His laughter is rich and warm, and you want to melt into it. Before you have the chance to make even more a fool of yourself in front of this handsome stranger, he answers. “I’ve been checked harder, darling. You have a nice day now.”

“Thanks, you too,” your words trail off as he catches the door on its next outswing, ducking inside without waiting for your response.

Jeeze, he must really be in a rush, then.

It’s when you exit the doors to the psychology building that you curse yourself. You should’ve gotten his number, his name at least. You could’ve invited him over for something more distracting and yummier than the ice cream you’d planned on demolishing.

At least you have something better to think about tonight than your test.

With a heavy sigh, you allow your backpack to fall off your shoulder. Now that you’ve arrived back to your dorm, you’re suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever.

The walk home from class had been nice, your time spent thinking about the boy you’d run into. The broadness of his shoulders you didn’t seem to notice until he turned away, stretching wide beneath his tight t-shirt. The bulge of his biceps beneath said t-shirt, flexing as he pulled the door open for himself. The shape of his ass in those snug jeans.

The sight of that is what had your eyes nearly popping from your head. What’s he doing that gives him such a bubblicious ass? Squats? Lunges? You can do those. You choose not to, but if there’s a guarantee that you’d have an ass like that, you’d start right this second.

Tucking your lip into your mouth in concentration, you plant your hands on your hips, making your way to the refrigerator that your ice cream is housed in, lunging your way there.

It’s not that far, the communal space in your shared dorm is small, but your heartrate is elevated by the time you’re two lunges away from your prize: your ice cream.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Mother!” You shout as the voice of your roommate breaks your concentration. Your knees wobble and your thighs shake, unable to hold you up from the burst of exertion you used. You clearly need to get into the gym more, another thing to add to your already busy schedule. “You scared me!”

Mor rolls her chocolate-brown eyes, sliding into one of the stools at your counter. It’s not built for it, the laminate countertop doesn’t hang over the island far enough for your legs to fit, but you and your roommates thought they were cute, nonetheless. You can suffer having to hunch over your knees to reach your cereal bowls in the mornings in favor of having more space for company to sit.

When you haul yourself off the ground, you take in your roommate. She’s wearing some kind of jersey, one you’ve never even seen in her wardrobe before, and you probably spend more time in there than her because she has every item of clothing you could ever imagine. The top she’s wearing now totally clashes with everything that screams Mor: silk scarves, tight bodice tops, leather pants, and what she has on now isn’t even red, a color that’s a staple in her closet.

“Well, if you were paying attention,” she scolds playfully, flipping open the compact in her hand, checking her makeup in the tiny mirror. She makes a few faces that would make you chuckle if you didn’t notice how she looks like she’s ready to go out, and that means she’s going to try to drag you with. “You would’ve heard me walk into the room. I am wearing heels, you know.”

Of course you know. Mor doesn’t do sneakers, only when it’s five in the morning and the sun is still sleeping, the perfect time for working out where nobody will catch her. Maybe I should join her, you think, mind wandering back to that boy’s butt.

“Why are your cheeks all red?” She asks, planting her palms on the counter and leaning towards you, eyes narrowed in inquisition.

“Nothing,” you wave her off, reaching for the door to the freezer. It’s the last thing between you and the cherry chunk ice cream calling your name.

Before you can open it more than an inch, it slams closed, Mor’s sharp, bright red fingernails splayed out to stop you.

Damnit, how does she move so silently?

“What do you think you’re doing?” You question each other at the same time, biting back your smiles at the mistake.

She answers first. “Why do you look like you’re about to get the ice cream, put your pajamas on, and wallow in bed all night?”

“Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” you cross your arms over your chest defiantly. “So, if you’ll excuse me…” You trail off, hoping she’ll step away and leave you to your peace.

She doesn’t. That’s not Mor.

“I had a rough day!”

“You say that every day,” she whines, stomping her heel-clad foot. “Don’t you even want to know what I’m inviting you to tonight?”

“From the look of your clothes, no, I don’t want to know what you’re doing tonight, Mor, and no, I don’t want to join you, either.”

Your roommate scrunches her nose, tipping it towards the ceiling. “I’ll have you know that this outfit is cute.”

“Yeah, if the definition of cute changed to ‘not pleasing or appealing to look at.’”

“You take that back,” Mor shouts, full naming you.

As your lips part in apology, because that was rude of you, your other roommate pads out of her room. Her reading glasses are perched up on her nose, blue eyes round and wide, and it always looks like she’s looking around the room in wonder. She has a blanket thrown over her shoulders and looks every bit of cozy you wish you were.

“Gwyn,” you sigh in relief at the sight of her. “Please, help.”

“I already said no,” she offers you a sympathetic wince. “I don’t think there’s any getting you out of the hockey game, sorry babe.”

Now it’s your jaw that falls to the floor. No, it falls through the floor and about five more floors down, hitting the lobby with a crack that echoes through the building.

You whirl on Mor. “Hockey game? Since when have you been interested in hockey?”

“Since my cousin got named team captain this year,” she says smugly, and you don’t know why she’s acting vain, it just means that he’s captain of the douchebags now, even you know that. Mor turns, showing off the back of her jersey. The number one stands out like a beacon, and you brush her blonde hair over her shoulder to read the smaller patches spelling out what is in fact, her family name.

Cunningham.

“Think of all the parties we’ll get into,” she says over her shoulder, and she does have a point there. The athletes at your college are a group of students that you don’t ever interact with, nor do you care. Mor is all about connections though, and if she wants to go to the hockey game, then it looks like you’re going with her.

You wonder what excuse Gwyn used to get out of it. She looks mighty comfy right now, slinking over the plop down on the couch and turn on a movie.

“Why do we have to go to the game? Can’t we just go to the parties?” You ask, grasping for anything to get out of this. You don’t want to go sit in the cold arena and watch a bunch of guys wearing full-body padding slide up and down the ice. Why couldn’t her cousin have been on the baseball team? They have nice, tight uniforms.

“Because,” Mor emphasizes with a glare, spinning to face you once more to give you the full effect of her irritation. “I’m a good cousin, and if we don’t attend the games, we’re going to be blacklisted from the parties,” she grumbles, the fight leaving her a little bit. “I’ve already argued about it with Rhys, I don’t want to have to argue with you too.”

It’s with your sigh that Mor brightens. “Fine. I’ll come with you, but I’m not going to be happy about it. And don’t expect me to cheer.”

Her squeal pierces the sound barrier. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

Mor grabs your hand, dragging you towards the empty single room that’s left in your dorm. She uses it as an extension of her closet until someone else gets placed with you. So far, you’ve been lucky, living here since freshman year, just the three of you. “Great! I got you a shirt!”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

#rhys x reader #rhysand/reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #acotar au #rhysand hockey au #over ice

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lostfracturess · 5 months ago

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bad ideas and other drinks — satoru gojo

satoru gojo's reputation precedes him, so like any girl with half a brain, you steer clear. but what if he has other plans?

Satoru Gojo's fuckboy reputation precedes him, a fact that's impossible to ignore with the way gossip spreads like wildfire around campus. Every other week, it seems there's a new story circulating about his latest hookup or the girl he's charmed into his bed.

So, like any girl with half a brain, you steer clear of him.

It doesn't matter that he's ridiculously hot with his cocky grin, stupidly blue eyes, and those silvery-white locks that look so soft to the touch. The point is, you're not about to become another notch on his bedpost.

Too bad Satoru doesn't seem to get the memo.

It all goes down at some campus party. The music is loud, the drinks are flowing, and you're finally starting to let loose and have a good time after a stressful week of exams.

That is, until some drunken idiot bumps into you from behind, making you crash right into none other than the campus fuckboy himself, spilling your drink all over both his shirt and yours.

"Whoa there." Satoru blinks, then has the nerve to smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief. "If you wanted to get close, all you had to do was ask."

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way his damp shirt clings to his toned chest. "Don't flatter yourself, Gojo. This was an accident."

His smirk only widens, sending a flutter through your stomach. "My bad then. But let me make it up to you, how about I get you a new drink? On me, of course."

"I can get my own drink, thanks," you say flatly, trying to wring out your drenched top. "I don't need anything from you."

"Damn, you sure know how to wound a guy." He places a hand over his hear. "And here I thought we were having a moment."

Ugh, the way he's looking at you makes your stomach flutter. No, churn. Definitely churn, probably just from how hard you're cringing. Definitely not because Satoru's even hotter up close.

Nope. No way. You're not going there.

You scoff, crossing your arms. "In your dreams, maybe."

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea."

"Ugh, spare me the fuckboy routine." You take a step back, trying to put some distance between you. "I'm not interested in your games."

He steps closer, closing the gap you just created. "Who said anything about games?"

Suddenly his hands are on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You gasp at the contact, at the feel of his lean, hard body pressed to yours.

Satoru dips his head, his lips brushing your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "I'm just trying to apologize properly. My room's not far... I'm sure I could find you something to change into." His voice drops even lower, sending a shiver down your spine. "Or out of, if you prefer."

You arch a brow, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your belly. "Wow, does that line actually work?"

"You tell me." His lips skim along your jaw as he pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his blue eyes smoldering. "Is it working on you?"

Before you can formulate a response, Satoru leans in again, his lips grazing your ear once more. "I'll even be a gentleman and let you stay for breakfast."

Damn, he's good.

You swallow hard, your resolve crumbling. The feel of his hands on your hips, the heat of his breath on your skin, the cocky audacity in his words — it's all making it very difficult to remember why hooking up with him is a terrible idea.

But you'd be damned if you let him know that.

"Wow, how generous," you deadpan, mustering up every ounce of sarcasm you possess. "I think I'll pass. Have fun with your right hand tonight."

As you turn to storm off, he calls after you, "Offer's always open if you change your mind."

You roll your eyes so hard it hurts. "Not gonna happen. Bye, Gojo."

God, he's insufferable. It doesn't matter how hot he is, or how his flirting makes your pulse race.

You're not about to fall for Satoru Gojo's crap.

…Right?

#satoru gojo #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo fanfic #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo fanfiction #gojo fanfic #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #satoru gojo drabble #gojo headcanons #satoru gojo headcanons

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evilminji · 5 months ago

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Huh >.> you know how Crechelings are basicly, like... possessed?

Like? They are cute af. But they VERY MUCH are constantly reaching out too and listening too the Force cause they are Baby and know jack shit? They are in that "why? Why? Why?" ×1000 stage of life. But instead of asking ADULTS, who might not always be on hand?

Well... the FORCE is on hand.

24/7!

Why NOT ask a cosmic driving force of all creation is you should have juice or water? This fruit or that vegetable? What are we gonna play today Effectively God? I'm a toddler! I don't know what boundaries are! Nor do I realize I probably shouldn't be bothering you with every single thought that passes through my head!

Yeeeeeah....

Tiny force sensitives? HELLA possessed.

They'll pull shit like "speak in prophecy" and "I stole a ship a can't even reach the controls off, to thwart an assassination attempt, because The Force Told Me Too, and that's why I'm on another planet and missed nap time." Plus the fun ol *hands a jedi master a rock* "the force says you'll need this! :D " *walks away, oblivious to the confusion they have wrought*

There is a REASON Creche master have to be SUPER patient types. And that parents are so often like "yeah, yeah we can't handle our kid. We love them. But this is beyond what we can parent."

Cause when your kid? Looks up from their mashpotatos? To casually drop "X is going to die soon." Or "he's going to betray you, you know" like??? Sweetie. Honey, youngling, you're THREE. Wtf. It's a BIT MUCH.

But? What I'm getting at?

I wanna see Creepy!ForceAvatar!Crechelings? Like it's... it's just a STAGE kids grow out off?

And I want it to save their fuckin LIVES.

Like? During the later stages of the Clone Wars. The Force is getting agitated. Knows what's coming. Does NOT like such imbalance and death. So? Even if the OLDER ones either can't hear it clearly or won't listen? The BABIES sure can.

And it's like a FUCKING HIVEMIND.

Absolutely HORRIFYING to behold.

All these lil babies. These wee lil toddlers n smol kiddos. Just... Stopping. Misstep. Balls bouncing past hands frozen, toys mid "woosh" motion, spoons half way to faces. All of it. Just... stopped.

They all cock their heads.

Like animals trying to hear a sound better.

Put down what they were doing. Calm as you please, ignoring everything around them, everyONE. Gathering their things from their rooms. Gathering the babies. Who are... oddly well behaved. It's the most calm and orderly anyone's ever see them. None of the creche masters can get their attention. Every attempt to physically get in the way is dodged before it's even attempted.

The children... calmly. Pleasantly. Like taking a stroll.

Steal a series of ships.

Broad daylight.

In... in front of everyone. No one can even STOP them. The Force is helping. All anyone can do is just? Follow.

They settle basicly a few weeks into the uncharted zone, in an old temple no one knew was there. All they will fuckin say is variations of "the Force says we live here now!" Like? Subtle this was NOT. I guess... we live here now?

.....huh.

It IS weirdly easier to think way out here.

As though we were no longer standing in the middle of some terrible smoke cloud. Nice and calm. Lots of Light. Unlike back o-.....waaaaait a fucking second. *sound of various Master's and council members connecting dots in their head*

>:O

@legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @spidori @lolottes @nerdpoe

#star wars #minji's writing #star wars prompt

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heliads · 1 year ago

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I love you writing and I was hoping you could write Ben Florian x VK!Reader the reader is Lefou's kid. A soulmate AU where the negative things you think about yourself are marked on your soulmate's skin. Reader only has one or two things because Ben is from Auradon and has a good life and family. While Ben has around half a dozen. Reader is the one who gives Ben the love potion. During the lake scene they notice Ben is their soulmate and tries (but fails) to hide it thinking he deserves better

masterlist

There really is no good place for a prince. They are political figureheads in every sense of the phrase— too young to actually rule, too old to be allowed to skip state functions. They sit in corners of expensive meetings and cut ribbons in front of newly opened buildings, but they can’t do a whole lot except smile and pose.

Shame your friend seems so fixated on capturing one, then. It feels like you’ve just barely left the Isle of the Lost, only bid farewell to the entirety of your prior life experience hours ago, and yet already Mal is scheming about how to best tear down everything around you. If Prince Ben is the best way to fulfill her nefarious plans, then so be it.

The only problem is that you’re now involved in all of this, too. Mal wants a wand and so she’ll take a prince to get there, but as one of her best friends, you’ve been drafted into the plot to catch a prince. Ben won’t have any idea what’s coming. Shame, he would probably run if he had any clue.

Mal’s good at covering her tracks, though, she always has been. You can remember elaborate plans from when you were much younger to steal cookies or cloaks, spellbooks and shoes. At this point, hearing Mal tell you that she’s going to bewitch the crown prince of Auradon into falling in love with her shouldn’t surprise you, just the fact that she’s taken this long to come up with the idea.

Usually, you have no problem going along with Mal’s little adventures. They’re entertaining, at the least, a good way to pass a few days when you’ve already gone over every alleyway and hiding place on the Isle at least a dozen times in the last month. The issue is that you’re not on the Isle anymore, and maybe– just maybe– disrupting everything here isn’t entirely what you want to do.

Mal doesn’t know this, of course. None of your fellow VKs do. Every time they monologue and moan about how they can’t wait to get out of this place, you find yourself holding your tongue, biting back your real thoughts about how the school isn’t actually as bad as you feared. Sure, the constant judgment from the other children of princes and princesses isn’t all that fun, but Auradon Prep has its positives, too. For one thing, you think your soulmate might be here.

What a terrible thing for the child of a villain to prioritize. You’ve heard Mal scoff at the idea of a soulmate, and although Evie is certainly more interested in the idea than some of your other friends, you’re still not sure that you’d find a welcome audience amongst their ranks when it comes to tracking down your soulmate. After all, the odds of that soulmate being from Auradon and not the Isle are pretty high. They’ve all but told you that themselves.

All things considered, for a society with such control over magic and spells, it’s pretty difficult to find your soulmate. You’d always wondered why those in charge couldn’t shorten the whole affair to something more simple– a name on the wrist, perhaps, or an invisible string that only the two of you could see– but instead, soulmate magic went the complicated route. How lovely.

The story about the origin of the soulmate magic is convoluted and ancient, going back generations and changing with each family. The general consensus is that soulmates were created to preserve the sanctity of true love, with the idea that soulmates should be able to love each other entirely, flaws and all. So, when you think something negative about yourself, those very same thoughts will show up on the skin of your soulmate, something like a warning label for what they’re going to get themselves into.

This is all well and good for people with few negative thoughts, maybe they’ll have something here and there about a bad sports result or a poor test grade that their soulmate can chuckle over before meeting them. For you, though? You, the child of a villain, cursed to live forever on a too-small island with the other convicts and criminals, you have had more fears and hated things about yourself than most. Your soulmate must be covered in unhappy musings, which only makes you feel worse about yourself than before. A self-perpetuating cycle of the worst kind.

By contrast, the startling absence of your soulmate’s negative thoughts on your own skin makes you certain that they couldn’t be from the Isle of the Lost. There are only one or two fears on your skin, proof of loving parents and a stable home, and they’re minor things like a bad hair day or a fear of not doing their absolute best. These change, often leaving every few months to be replaced by something else insignificant.

What makes you most certain that your soulmate is the child of a royal is the one negative thought that has stayed on your skin since the very beginning. Your soulmate, whoever they are, is terrified that they will let down the king and queen. Only someone with close ties to the royalty could have such a fear, so it’s proof that your soulmate is somewhere here on Auradon.

So maybe you don’t want to leave this place, not yet. Not until you can learn who your soulmate is. It’ll be almost impossible to track them down on this information alone, but supposedly that’s how the whole thing is supposed to work. You learn about the worst parts of your soulmate, and then you get to love the best of them. The only problem is that you’re fairly sure that if your soulmate is a royal, they won’t want to love you at all.

It’s easier to ignore the whole affair. Easier to agree to Mal’s plan when she proposes enchanting Prince Ben. At least another one of your friend’s schemes will keep your mind off the soulmate affair.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, but your conscience is starting to get steadily more vocal as the days go by. Ben is a nice guy, which hurts, surprisingly. Although the love spell may have been cast on Mal, as one of Mal’s closest friends, you’re around the two of them all the time. The boy you see is someone that you wish could be your soulmate. He may be a prince, and you may be a villain, but he makes you want to believe in love after all.

You certainly have the capacity for such musings. For some reason, the love spell didn’t take all that well, and although Ben is now compelled to stay with Mal more than he was before, it’s not like he’s totally obsessed with her as Mal had hoped. Mal claims it’s because love spells can never work fully due to the soulmate issue, like having a soulmate is a kind of shield to protect you against that sort of enchantment, but regardless, Ben has just enough independent thought that he can tell you jokes and try to make you smile like– well, like he tries to do with Mal.

The realization that Ben is a genuinely good person, and worse, someone you don’t want to trick, haunts you as you fall further into Mal’s scheme. You’ve been trying to push the whole thing from your mind, letting Ben join your soulmate in the depths of your mind you don’t want to touch, but your train of thought keeps circling back to him despite your best attempts otherwise.

Besides, it doesn’t help that Mal keeps trying to involve you in the plot. Right now, the two of them are at the Enchanted Lake, out on a cute little date. Mal had been making mock disgusted faces at you the whole time she was getting ready, but some part of yourself can’t stop whispering that this doesn’t seem so bad, actually, that the thought of being out here alone with Ben would make for a wonderful day instead of the tedious chore Mal is making it out to be.

Ben doesn’t know you’re here, though. Mal wanted backup in case something happened, so you’re lingering in the woods to keep anyone from stumbling upon the scene and also holding onto more magical baked goods in case Mal feels the need to renew the spell. It’s kind of like torture, strolling through this beautiful forest, knowing that Ben is so close and you are helping hold him under the thrall of this plot.

The storm in your mind must be thundering too loudly for you to think straight, because you lose track of yourself and accidentally walk too close to the lake. You weren’t supposed to be spotted, but before you can back away and melt back into the foliage, Ben looks up and sees you. You panic, immediately heading the way you’d come, but you hear footsteps after you moments later and Ben manages to track you down before you can go too far. Mal is so going to kill you for messing with her plan.

“Sorry,” you murmur, eyes wide when he finally catches up to you, “I didn’t realize the two of you were– I’ll go now.”

Ben shakes his head. “No, no, it’s alright. It’s not like we have a monopoly on the woods.”

He’s dripping water, most likely due to a recent dip in the lake, and you can’t seem to stop your gaze from following the path of the droplets as they cascade down his shoulders, across his hands, and, most importantly of all, over the swooping letters of the fears of his soulmates.

Usually, Ben wears long sleeves or something else to hide them. You can see why now– there are many of them, many more than you, perhaps half a dozen in all. You can’t read all of them from where you’re standing, just snippets about how a villain’s kid shouldn’t have a soulmate, how they’ll never amount to much, things like that. Things like what you’ve been thinking recently.

Ben must catch on to your train of thought, because he smiles weakly, absentmindedly scratching at a sentence proclaiming that his soulmate isn’t worth the good luck they get. “Yeah, my soulmate’s a little stressed, I guess. Hopefully, I can talk about that with them soon. I want them to know that they’re worth it, wherever they are.”

It had never occurred to you that hating yourself would make your soulmate this obsessed. You have no proof that Ben is your soulmate but–

But, as you watch, you can see a new fear appearing out of nowhere, wrapping itself around Ben’s left wrist. I’m not good enough for a soulmate this good. Just what you were thinking mere moments ago. It’s like proof.

Ben looks up slowly, and although you were never blessed with the ability to read minds, you swear you can tell exactly what he’s thinking right now. “Are you–” he starts, ends, tries again, “Do you know who your soulmate is?”

You can do several things at this moment. You can confirm what you’re mostly sure is true, you can lie, you can pretend you hadn’t heard him. You spot movement in the trees behind him, a flash of purple, and remember belatedly that Mal is still somewhere at the Enchanted Lake, waiting for Ben to come back and wondering why you’re holding him here for so long.

All of a sudden, the reality of the situation comes crashing down around your shoulders. This is not something that can happen. Ben is a prince. You are the child of a villain, and the friend of another VK who’s counting on you to continue fooling Ben so she can pursue her latest mad plan. There is no world in which this works out.

So, you force a smile, banishing all thoughts back into the deep recesses of your brain once more. “No,” you say, “I don’t know. I think they’re a VK, though.”

Ben’s face falls in a flash. “Really? Because I thought–”

You shake your head quickly. “I don’t– it’s not me. I think Mal is waiting for you, though. You shouldn’t keep her for long.”

Ben glances back over his shoulder in memory of the girl he’s left somewhere in the woods behind him, and when he looks back, you’re gone. You’re good at running. It’s a skill you’ve perfected over the years. You just never thought you’d have to use it now.

Prince Ben is your soulmate. Impossible. True. Mal comes back later that afternoon, tells you the date went splendidly despite your accidental intrusion. Ben must not have let the brief moment in the woods faze him for long. It hurts more than you care to admit.

There is only so much running a VK can do, try as they might to pretend otherwise. You avoid Ben at all costs, hoping that whatever foolish war is currently being fought inside your heart will come to a tolerable ceasefire if you just ignore it long enough. Mal tells you that the plan is going swimmingly, she’s never seen the prince more excited about the VKs and the upcoming coronation. You nod and smile and tell her that you’re glad everything is going to plan, but inside, you cannot seem to stop your mind from screaming.

And then, all of a sudden, despite your best attempts to remain out of sight, Prince Ben finds you. It’s completely out of the blue, so casual that you almost don’t realize it’s happening until he’s sitting down at your table in the library and it’s too late to run.

You feel like an animal caught in a trap. He’s just smiling like nothing is the matter. “I know it’s you,” he says by way of hello.

Your heart is stuck in your throat. “What?”

“I know it’s you,” Ben repeats, “I know you’re my soulmate. I had the Fairy Godmother do a little spell so I could check for you, but I think I knew since that day at the lake.”

You frown. “You can do that?”

He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. “Not everyone can, I think. But I, uh, insisted.”

You grin. “Prince privileges?”

“Something like that.” He’s smiling, though, maybe pleased that you’re not trying to run off this time. “But you knew even without the spell, didn’t you?”

That does shake your uncertain sense of calm. “Yes,” you admit, “but I didn’t think you— I didn’t think it would work out.”

The look on Ben’s face is genuinely heartbreaking. “What, just because I’m a prince?”

He says it so casually, it’s almost funny. “Yes, Ben, because you’re a prince and I’m a VK. I mean, my dad was Lefou. He literally tried to ruin the happy ever after of your parents, why would you want someone like me to be your soulmate?”

“Same reason you shouldn’t be afraid to want me. You’re not your father, Y/N, and I’m not my parents. We’re just us, and I know that I want you to be my soulmate. I have since the start. I was hoping you would tell me you knew, but after a few days went by and you still said nothing, I figured I had to take matters into my own hands. Even if that meant using a spell or two.”

You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to laugh in your face and tell you it’s ridiculous to think that he would ever want a VK as a soulmate, but he doesn’t. In fact, you don’t think he ever will. As impossible as it seems, Ben wants someone who isn’t from a perfect fairy tale. He wants you. And that, lovely and wonderful and absolutely crazy, sounds like a fairly good happily ever after for you.

disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed

#ben florian #ben florian imagines #ben florian x reader #ben florian oneshot #descendants #descendants imagines #descendants x reader #descendants oneshot #disney #disney imagines #disney x reader #disney oneshot #descendants ben #descendants ben imagines #descendants ben x reader #descendants ben oneshot

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lacroixqueen · 5 months ago

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i'm so chill but you make me jealous jealous deadpool x fem!reader, 18+

Summary: deadpool sees you on a date with another guy and loses his shit lol

Pairing: jealous deadpool x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings/Tags: jealousy, possessive, angst, brat, noncon, dubcon

You were trying to figure out the fastest way to get out of this dumpster fire of a date. This is what you get for putting yourself out there, by the fervent advice of both your mother and entire social circle. So you went ahead and downloaded a dating app out of sheer boredom but also a tiny glimmer of hope. After quite a number of left swipes and a small handful of rights, you somehow wound up across the dinner table with… er, you forgot his name already.

But you knew he worked in finance. Or was it accounting? Anyways, he was currently explaining the intricacies of the stock market to you, and the appetizer hasn’t even come out yet. And you realized that you couldn’t care any less.

“I.. have to go to the bathroom,” you said, standing up quickly and pushing in your chair. Your date almost didn’t seem to notice, giving you a half-hearted acknowledgement and then continuing to drabble on to himself about cryptocurrency.

Without another word, you darted to the nearest exit of the restaurant, finding yourself on the freshly rained-on sidewalk. You always loved the smell of the concrete after it had just rained.

Your heels made a satisfying click-clack sound as you briskly maneuvered your way down the street. You opened up your texts to see if you missed anything during the god-awful date, and lo and behold, was a message from none other than Wade.

“Love the dress,” it read.

You glanced behind you, then side to side, and once you turned back around, there he was, leaning against the side of the cornerstore.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, barely turning towards him before directing your attention back to your phone and continuing to walk past him.

“Ohhhh, so it’s ice cold today,” he commented, following right behind you. “I love that flavor.”

“What do you want,” you said while texting a friend about how disastrously the date went. “I am just going home.”

“Well, I was just walking by when I caught a glimpse of you through the window of that Italian restaurant back there,” the assassin replied. “Speaking of which, what was on the menu? I mean that place looked upscale! Like they probably sprinkle gold dust on their pasta instead of parmesan.”

It was an Olive Garden.

“To be blunt, I honestly forgot,” you responded. “I didn’t even eat anything.”

“Well, why did you leave so early?” he pried, this obviously piquing his attention now.

“I-I felt sick,” you lied, your intonation increasing as quickly as your apprehension. “Can we just change the subject, please?”

“Oh ho ho,” Deadpool chuckled, as if he struck gold. “That bad? I mean, I didn’t get a great look at the guy, but from what I saw, he wasn’t terrible-looking. Also, he wore a fleece vest. I mean, that’s just the height of fashion, you really can’t get any better than that.”

“Are you having fun?” you said, rolling your eyes as he continued to mock your absolutely colossal defeat of an evening.

“Oh, absolutely,” Deadpool laughed. “The other point of contention is why the hell you decided to pull out this absolute banger of a dress for your first date with Mr. Finance Bro there and not ours?”

“That was not a date,” you enunciated, pressing your finger into Wade’s chest. “That was a drunken one night stand that will never happen again and that you even promised to never bring up. It was stupid and nonsensical and I can’t believe it even happened in the first place.”

“Oh come on, Y/N, you’re going to break my heart,” he whined, clasping his hands together like a needy puppy. “I, for one, thought that night was very special. I mean, you even told me that you could see yourself fall-”

Before he could say another word, you grabbed him by the hand and led him into a dark alleyway so that innocent bystanders wouldn’t hear you scream.

“Stop! Bringing that up!” you exclaimed.

Deadpool was shocked his casual mention of the event elicited such a strong emotion from you. “Okay, okay, jeez.. calm down.”

You sighed, letting him go and turning your back to him.

But he didn’t let you. Not even for a second. Before you could even react, he grabbed you by the neck and slammed you into the wall.

You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching up to clasp over his while his grip only tightened over your carotid.

“Besides, you know that I only followed you here because I wanted to see more of you in this ridiculously skimpy dress..” his voice darkened as he continued to choke you like a helpless animal. “I mean, look at you. That thing practically clings onto you like skin! If you weren’t such a tightass I would have ripped it off of you by now..”

He unsheathed his pocket knife and ran it across your lacy scarlet choker, over the thin straps of your slip dress, and onto your chest. He traced the outline of your cleavage with the dull edge, and then slowly slid it down over your taut stomach.

You were trying to gulp up air for just one breath, but his hold was unrelenting.

“I mean a red mini dress, are you fucking kidding me?” he snarled, his blade gently brushing against the garter belt on your right thigh. “Wearing my favorite color? With some other guy? This has got to be orchestrated at this point, Y/N.”

“Wade.. please..” you begged, lips beginning to quiver. Regardless of how much he joked around with you, he scared you when he was angry.

He finally released you, allowing you to cough and gasp for your first breath.

“But you know of course I wouldn’t kill you, I mean who do you think I am, a psychopath?” his tone immediately brightened up the moment he saw how much you feared him. “I just like watching you not being able to breathe is all. It’s so cute.”

After you finally caught your breath, you stared daggers down at the vigilante who stood before you.

“Listen, Wade,” you said. “I understand you are not exactly pleased with the current state of affairs. But this isn’t entirely up to me. And I’ve told you this a million different times.’

The assassin let out a dramatic, almost cinematic sigh. “Yes, I know, Your mother wants you to date ‘someone sensible with a stable career and not a psycho killer’. Which is perfectly understandable! I get it. I mean, I would probably think the same thing if I lived in the suburbs and made tuna casserole in my spare time.”

“Wade..” you shook your head and rolled your eyes. “You know it’s not that simple.” You walked up to him and gently lifted up his mask to reveal only his lips.

He didn’t hesitate to grab you by the waist and pull you so close that your body was pressed up against his.

You stood up on your tiptoes in your heels, stabilizing yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders. You weren’t exactly sure what you were doing, but you knew something within you just wanted to kiss him. But you also didn’t know if this was the right idea.

The plump part of your lip gently brushed against his. The smell of your watermelon lip gloss was driving him crazy. He started to breathe heavily, and if another second passed where you weren’t kissing him he would say fuck it and just do it himself.

You felt his hot breath in your mouth, and you felt your arms twist around him like they knew exactly where to rest themselves. Like they have done this before.

“I’m so stupid for this,” you sighed, as you felt his lips beginning to close over yours.

He smiled smugly into the kiss, quite pleased with himself over the hard fought victory. Without another moment of hesitation, he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you up without much effort at all. He walked over to the wall, pressing your back softly against it.

You wrapped your legs around his waist automatically, kissing him like you would die if you stopped. You felt his tongue wrap desperately around yours. He was aggressive, hungry even. He wanted you all to himself, not some fucker in a fleece vest or anyone else for that matter.

You knew you would regret your decision in the morning. And that no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you would come running back to him. Every single time.

#deadpool #deadpool 3 #deadpool movie #wade wilson #deadpool x reader #deadpool x y/n #marvel #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu rp #mcu fandom #marvel cinematic universe #avengers #marvel comics #deadpool and wolverine #the avengers #marvel jesus

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thestrangepoet · 3 months ago

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The Furrcinating Adventures of Champion, the Archives Cat | The Magnus Archives Fanfiction | Ch 1/?

Based on @ultramarinaa’s Cat!Martin AU

CONTENT WARNINGS: None

DISCLAIMER: As per usual, this is an unedited first draft that I haven’t proofread. Forgive any typos and roughness around the edges – I tend not to go back over fanfics, as they’re just a bit of fun writing for me. (I am a full-time professional writer, and if I start telling myself I need to edit and proofread my fanfics, it’ll cease being fun for me.)

This is chapter one of…I don’t know. I may continue if enough people are enjoying it. Next Chapter →

──── •✧• ────

Oh God, Martin thought to himself as fur began to emerge from under his skin, covering newly reshaped limbs and hiding sharp claws from sight, Jon’s going to be so mad at me!

Oh no, Martin panicked as blunt teeth gave way to pointed canines, this is so unprofessional of me!

Only then did Martin allow the terrible question to enter his mind – what was he becoming?

He should have known better than to pick up an unfamiliar book lying around in the archives of the Magnus Institute, the academic home of research into the paranormal and esoteric. At the very least, if he was going to pick it up, he should have done so only to tidy it away. Why he had felt compelled to open the tome and sneak a peek inside, he couldn’t say.

As the world around him lurched into a new angle, Martin could only think about the presentation his boss had delivered a few weeks prior.

Obviously, you shouldn’t be dealing directly with any artefacts of note, Jon had said dryly, tapping the large screen behind him that showed countless examples of seemingly mundane objects. We have a department for that for a reason. However, it’s not unusual for one or two to slip through the cracks; particularly books, given the extensive nature of our library. If you should check out a book as part of your research and you see the name ‘Leitner’ involved in any capacity, do not read the book. Put it down immediately. Martin, that goes double for you – if you even think the word ‘Leitner’ near a book, I want you to turn around immediately and walk back to your desk – do you understand?

Had he seen the name ‘Leitner’ in this book? There had been a torn bookplate in the front, and maybe the remaining letters had been ‘ner’...

Did it matter? He was paying for his stupidity now, Martin thought. All fur and claws and fangs, and oh, what hideous monster would emerge from what had once been Martin Blackwood?

Martin lay down, his fluffy belly flat against the floor, and pushed his newly shaped paws over his eyes. Oh, it didn’t bear thinking about! Jon would burst in at any moment, see some horrible creature, not realise it was Martin, and—

“Martin?”

As if on cue, the door to the shared office of the archival assistants opened, and in walked Jonathan Sims. “Martin, have you taken your lunch break? Tim and Sasha have already gone, and Elias has been getting very prickly about me making sure you all…oh. Martin?”

Martin had scampered under the table in hope of avoiding his boss’ gaze. Treated now to a blurry view of the man’s green socks and scuffed brogues, he watched as Jon entered the office. “Oh. Good. He’s gone already,” Jon said to himself with the air of a job well done. He turned to leave, and Martin had almost let out a sigh of relief when the man’s feet stopped.

No, no! Martin thought, Go! You can’t see me like this! I bet I’m the ugliest monster, all fangs and talons and hair all over the place!

A scarred hand appeared in Martin’s imperfect vision, scooping up the fallen book that was to blame for Martin’s plight. A new fear sprang up in Martin’s mind then – what if Jon read the book too?

He had to do it. He had to save him! Even if it meant Jon would see Martin’s disgusting new form, he had to keep Jon safe!

He lunged with a power that Martin hadn’t ever known before. A screeching roar – or a miaow, really – pierced the air, and Martin all but bodyslammed Jon’s hands, knocking the book firmly from his grip. It span across the room and slid under the bookshelf out of sight.

Now he’d done it. Now Jon would see Martin in all his revolting glory – witness what that awful Leitner book had turned him into. If he didn’t recognise Martin, as surely he wouldn’t, he’d no doubt call security, and then what would happen? Would Martin be taken down? Locked away in the tunnels for examination and research? Worse, what if Jon did recognise him? He’d know that Martin had messed up in a spectacular fashion, and he’d be so disappointed in him. Would he be the one to tell Martin nothing could be done, that the effects of a Leitner were irreversible and that they’d have to–

“Good Lord! Oh…oh, now, where did you come from, little one?”

Jon’s voice took on a bizarrely soft tone that Martin had never heard before. He couldn’t respond, however, as thin hands had latched gently around his torso and lifted him from the ground, a startled purr rumbling from Martin’s chest.

All of a sudden, Jon’s face filled Martin’s entire view. And for once, no scowl darkened his features. In fact, Jon almost looked…delighted?

Martin blinked.

“Mrrow?”

Not once in over a year of working for Jonathan Sims had Martin managed to coax a smile from the other man. All his best attempts, his best teas, his ridiculous amount of overtime to finish his reports to a standard Jon would accept, all his own smiles and attempts to cheer the man up, not one of these gargantuan efforts had been rewarded with a smile.

And now, with one confused miaow, Martin had unlocked a smile from Jon.

“How did you get in here? Did you get lost? Did Martin leave the door open again? Oh, I bet he did. I bet he did!” Jon repeated, descending into a cooing baby voice that would have had Martin howling with laughter if he could still laugh. Jon shifted the perplexed Martin to sit over his shoulder more comfortably, the book all but forgotten. “But you’re such a handsome boy! And no collar? Poor little man, have you been wandering around looking for some food and shelter? We’ll get you sorted, don’t you worry, little champion.”

What…the hell…is happening? Martin wondered, even as a big, goofy smile curled his lips.

Jon was carrying him. Out of the office. Stroking his back. Calling him a little champion and handsome.

“How about a saucer of warm milk, hmm? Does that sound good? Would that set you right, hmm?”

It was only then that Martin’s mind dragged itself out of the dazed, happy fog to piece together what Jon was saying. Why he was saying it.

Martin had not been transformed into some vicious beast from the eldritch corners of reality.

As they passed by Jon’s office, Martin caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass pane of the door.

A large cat with white and orange fur blinked back at him from over Jon’s shoulder.

──── •✧• ────

Martin was, of course, the talk of the town after everyone returned from their lunch break. Funny, then, that not one person actually mentioned Martin.

“So you’re gonna take him to the vets, right, boss?” Tim asked, rolling another roll of Sellotape towards Martin, apparently expecting him to play with it. Martin, on principle, refused, turning his nose up and huffing.

Tim, come on! You’re back, Sasha’s back, who isn’t back yet? Ask where Martin is! he thought.

“He seems healthy enough to me,” Jon replied, not looking up from the paperwork he was pouring over. “Why?”

“To get his microchip checked? Get him back to his owners?”

That made Jon look up, a flash of shock and upset clear in his widened eyes and slightly parted lips. “His ow— No, no, he hasn’t even got a collar on. No owners.”

“Right, but by law, cats have to be microchipped. Maybe his collar fell off or something?” A hint of amusement danced in Tim’s questions; Martin could tell that Tim was toying with Jon. Jon, however, hadn’t picked up on that.

“M-maybe,” he replied stiffly. “Right, yes, fine. Vets after work. But he can stay here for now. Till the end of the shift.”

Martin wandered over to Jon, sitting himself down by the leg of his chair and craning his neck up, tail swishing behind him.

Right, now that’s sorted, onto the next obvious issue in the office, Jon, he thought. Which is…the obvious and mysterious disappearance of—

“Martin’s late back off his lunch,” Jon noted, checking the office clock with a critical glance. “Could you check the archival assistants’ office please, Tim? Maybe drop him a text. Probably got himself distracted by some…particularly interesting bollards or something…”

Sure, there’d been an insult mixed in there, but Jon had noticed! He’d noticed Martin’s disappearance, and that meant Martin had to repay his kindness!

Fuelled with delight, the cat sprang up onto Jon’s lap, earning him a surprised chuckle. “Ah! Well, hello! Y-yes, you can sit there while I work, Champion. That’s fine.”

Tim snorted as he headed out of Jon’s office, arching an eyebrow at the pair of them. “Champion? Are you kidding me? He’s a classic Fluffy or Ginger or Marshmallow or something.”

“Nonsense. He’s brimming with regal strength. A Champion if I ever saw one,” Jon retorted with a sniff, deeming the argument not worth his attention beyond that and turning back to his work. “Let me know if Martin gets back to you. And if he shows up, send him in here.”

The newly named Champion stretched out lazily on Jon’s lap, settling down for a cheeky nap on company time.

Already here, Jon.

──── •✧• ────

#cat!martin #tma cats #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #jmart

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moonlightspencie · 9 months ago

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Meet-Cute

Description: It's all in the title, isn't it?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 1k

On a Saturday morning after a night of drinking, the last thing you personally cared for was to be awoken by the loudest noise on earth. Some terrible creaking sound, mixed with thuds that seemed to resound in your apartment every thirty seconds had you practically developing a stress-induced twitch as you laid in bed.

To put it nicely: you were at the end of your rope.

You begrudgingly got out of bed, roughly washed your face, angrily brushed your teeth, and stomped to your door. You may not usually be prone to dramatics, but you felt it necessary for your well-being this time. You opened your door, about to confront your terribly noisy neighbor, when you realized that it was someone moving in.

You wanted to be angry. You really did. But…

“Hello,” said a man who you could only describe as genuinely tall, dark, and handsome. He also looked a little surprised.

You wiped the scowl off your face. “Hi.”

He looked around, as if the answer for you standing in your doorway in pajamas, looking quite annoyed, would appear out of thin air. It didn’t. You realized as much about thirty seconds later as you finally started speaking.

“Sorry. Are you moving in?”

"Oh! Yeah," he breathed out a small laugh. God he was handsome. "I apologize for the noise.”

You shake your head. “No! No, that’s okay. Just… curious.”

He smiled a little and you tried not to melt on the spot. He reached his hand out in greeting.

“I’m Aaron.”

You shook his hand, trying not to stare at him as you gave him your name.

“Nice to meet you,” you said softly.

“You, too. Uh… I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, nodding at the box under his arm.

“Of course!” you nod quickly. “Right. Um… I’ll see you around, Aaron.”

You went back to your apartment, shutting the door behind you with a little grin. So much for staying determined to be grumpy and less than pleasant today.

It was, unfortunately, two weeks later before you saw him again. This time as you were checking your mailbox in the lobby. As you heard someone clear their throat, you muttered a small apology, stepping out of the way as you looked through the letters in your hand.

“Um… hi,” he offered as a greeting that made you jump a little bit. "Sorry, I didn't mean to... Just wanted to say hello."

You looked up at the voice that was irritatingly smooth, finding yourself getting a bit warm in the cheeks when you noticed him giving you almost a shy smile. You turned towards him more to give him your full attention.

"Oh, gosh. Uh, sorry," you chuckled softly, returning his smile. "Guess I'm not very good at being neighborly, am I?"

"You're doing just fine. I'm sure it might be a little... maybe off-putting to have a strange man approach you in the lobby, now that I think of it."

You shook your head. “It’s not that at all. I’m just… not used to people approaching me here at all.”

“Not exactly social?”

“More like nobody else here is. I don’t mind a little company,” you replied, a little more flirty than you were intending.

Clearly he didn’t mind.

“Good to know,” he nodded once with a growing smirk.

“Uh…” you clammed up a tiny bit. “So… Um, are you, like, new around here?”

“Only to this building. I’ve been in D.C. for too many years to count,” his smirk melted into a softer smile. “Just needed someplace new, I guess. My old apartment… I just needed a change of scenery.”

“Yeah. Yeah, no, I’ve been there,” you nodded softly. “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s great. My son loves it here.”

Your brows raised a little. “You have a son?”

“I’m shocked you didn’t file a complaint last night with the tantrum he threw,” he chuckled a tiny bit.

“I was out last night, so no worries here.”

“Oh? With friends, or…?”

You couldn’t help but smile a little more. “Yeah. Just a couple of girlfriends.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Maybe too much fun.”

“You get up to a lot with them?” he asked casually, though not without humor, crossing his arms over his chest.

You smiled. “Only on occasion. I don’t think I could really handle the way they go out practically every single night. I only agree to go out like that with them once a month.”

“Now you’re sounding a little too much like me for someone so young and pretty.”

You find your cheeks warm at that, though you try not to react outwardly. You could tell that he knew just how much he had affected you, though. If you didn’t know any better, you might guess he was a mindreader.

“I think you make yourself out to be too boring for someone so friendly and handsome.”

He laughed a little at that. Then a comfortable silence falls over the both of you for a moment. Maybe two moments. Eventually, you shift your weight, and look back up at him again. He really is horribly handsome. A guy shouldn’t be able to look like that, and… God, he smelled good, too. You shuffled the mail in your hands a little bit before speaking again.

“Uh… Well, it was nice chatting with you, but unfortunately I do have to go clean my apartment. Family is coming over tomorrow,” you said softly. “I’ll see you around, though, yeah?”

“Yes, that sounds… sounds good. Maybe if you end up wanting some of that company you were talking about, we could get dinner some time?”

You couldn’t help a giddy smile sneaking onto your face. You nodded easily, glancing at his hand as he shut your mailbox for you near your head.

“I could come knock on your door some time soon and invite you properly, if you’d be alright with that,” he said, that little smirk sneaking back onto his face.

“I’d like that.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fic #gender neutral reader #luna's hotch fics

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xclowniex · 4 months ago

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I truly think that the majority of goyim simply do not know what it has been like for jews in the diaspora since Oct 7th.

When the news first broke, I did not know how far hamas had gotten into Israel, my family in Israel was on a trip somewhere in Israel too and I had no clue where they had gone for a holiday. Whilst I knew they did not live anywhere near the Gaza border, I had zero idea where they were when it was happening. I had zero clue if they were alive or dead. I was stuck in limbo watching all the reports.

Then on Monday, I had to go into work like nothing fucking happened, like I didn't just spend the weekend worrying if they were dead or alive.

When I came into work, my manager who had heard the news who knows I have family in Israel asked me what had happened. I was still processing the news myself. All I told her was that there was an attack on Israeli civilians and she said that she hoped my family was safe.

In the coming days I saw all the protests, all the protests BEFORE Israel had even retaliated. I saw the antisemitic protest in Australia where people were chanting "gas the jews" and thinking "oh my fucking God, Australian culture is similar to New Zealand culture, is a similar protest going to happen here?" I spend so long worried that something like that would happen where I lived. I planned what I would do if I got caught near one, picturing all the common places people protest and planning my escape routes. Thankfully nothing on that scale happened. I was lucky.

None of my friends at the time asked me if my family was safe, but they all posted about Palestine. Keep in mind that all bar one knew I have family in Israel as I've spoken about it multiple times.

I watched support keep coming and coming for palestine when Israel hadn't even retaliated yet, and no support for the Israeli lives lost. I pushed my feelings aside, giving people the benefit of the doubt, maybe just maybe they didn't know the extent of Oct 7th that was released at that time.

After Israel retaliated, I ended up unfollowing so many content creators online because they refused to talk Oct 7th and only talked about Palestine. Were my family just chopped fucking liver to them???? Did my anxiety that I felt about their safety just not matter? Did all Israelis dying not matter to them?

I went to my first Halloween party. It was fun and I enjoyed myself for the most part, but on the way there I kept worrying that someone was going to say something antisemitic, that someone was going to bring up the war and dehumanize Israelis, dehumanize my family. I spent the whole evening on edge, worrying that it would happen. As a result, to calm my nerves I ended up getting super fucked up. It did not work and I overdid the alcohol and weed and I just felt terrible. The next day I felt immense guilt. How could I party? How could I dance when those at Nova were killed when they were dancing?

Then the antisemitism started online. I watched antisemitic tropes just start flying around social media. It's what made me start posting about the war and antisemitism online. My blog turned from clown posts, my special interest, to a space where I could get my feelings off my chest.

Then the antisemitism started in real life. Whenever I wore my magen david, I would get called slurs. I had to start avoiding certain parts of town because of it.

I also felt highly isolated at work. I didn't know who I could speak to about what I was going through. My office is made up of mainly leftists. No one really spoke about the war at work, which in a way made it worse. I didn't know who was normal about jews and Israelis and who weren't.

The harassment got so bad that my partner at the time was begging me to stop wearing or at least hide my magen david as he was afraid that I would be physically attacked.

There were times which I hid it, and I still experienced antisemitism because I have a very jewish nose.

I experienced this for MONTHS.

At one point in time, I tried venting to my friends at the time about the antisemitism I was facing. One of them said that they hadn't seen any antisemitism so they didn't know what I was talking about. I called what they said weird, and they started on this whole tirade that I'm only calling them antisemitic because they're arab. I think this was in November. I looked at their blog and found posts denying oct 7th, saying it didn't happen. I took screenshots in case i needed them in the future. Oh the foreshadowing.

About two months ago, a new person was invited to the friend group discord server. This new person made some pro hamas comments and said they were a resistance group. I explained with proof that Hamas has said that they wanted to kill jews. This was the start of a downfall of my friendship with my ex friends.

2 weeks after that, one of my ex friend vents about the war, and in their vent they dehumanized Israelis. I decided to check all my friends social media posts. I found post after post after post with blood libel, oct 7th denial, antisemitic tropes, dehumanization of Israelis and jews, and posts in support of groups which want jews dead, such as the houthi which have "curse to jews" in their slogan. That new person added to the discord server literally sent a few messages explicitly saying that they support the houthi.

I take a few days to process things and decide enough is enough, and that I need to unfriend them all. I email my local synagogue and get accepted to join after being screened by them to verify that I was in fact jewish and not some antisemite wanting to harm the congregation. I end my friendship with my ex friends with an essay of a message stating what they said, why it was antisemitic and that I do not feel comfortable or safe being friends with them anymore.

Two of them reached out to me to try to fix things. One hasn't really done much, she only didn't ask if my family was safe after Oct 7th + never called out any antisemitism the friend group did. However our friendship could not be repaired as her boyfriend was one of the worse perpetrators of antisemitism.

The other one who reached out supported groups who had tied to Hamas. I asked them to no longer support SJP, and they refused with the excuse of "I already avoid so many activist groups because of white supremacy, it's too hard to avoid SJP. I had to bite my tongue. I wanted to scream at them "why the actual fuck are you attracted to so many groups who engage in white supremacy that you need to actively avoid them? How hard is it to avoid one more! Write a fucking list if you need help remembering!" But I didn't say any of that, I just told them that if that's their choice then we can no longer be friends anymore and I blocked them.

Going to synagogue was amazing. I felt so welcomed and have made some new friends. Reconnecting with my jewishness after not going to synagogue for years was good. It was exactly what I needed. However, it was the cause of the end of my relationship with my ex.

He had his parents force his culture on him since he was a child and hated every second of it. When he immigrated here, he assimilated and wanted nothing to do with the culture from the country he was born in. Whilst he was fine with me participating in jewish culture, he didn't want it brought into the relationship at all. He was fine eating jewish food if i cooked it, but he didn't want to learn about jewish culture or do anything regarding it. I wasn't expecting him to convert, all I wanted was for him to learn the basics about jewish culture, maybe surprise me with some recipies from my childhood like I've done with sri lankan recipies from his childhood when he told me that he's craving them, attend jewish markets when they happen. I did not at all expect him to convert or to become immersed in jewish culture, I just wanted him to make an effort to support my jewishness.

We were looking at marriage and children in the next few years and were discussing how to raise them. I wanted them to learn about their jewish culture as children and it would be up to them if they participated in it or not as they got older. He didn't want that at all. He viewed it as them being "indoctrinated" into judaism. I told him that I feel like he just wants to date some white girl who has a default culture of our country and that I could never be that, I would never throw away my jewishness to be that. And he agreed that he did want someone who just had the default culture of our country. So we broke up. To be fair, I had been thinking about breaking up for months due to other issues, but that was the one which made me go "this relationship cannot be fixed, it has to end or I will be unhappy forever".

On its own, it doesn't seem too bad, but after going through so much antisemitism, the one person who is support to support me, who is suppose to love me, couldn't do that as long as I was actively jewish and participating in jewish culture.

And that's not even a complete list of everything I have gone through since Oct 7th. And I can't make this post without mentioning the amazing jews in my phone, who have been there for me since the start. You have made this hellscape bearable.

Like I said, goyim don't know what it has been like for jews since Oct 7th

#vent #antisemitism #jumblr #israel #i/p #jewblr

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whorxology · 1 year ago

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⛧☾༺♰SFW Alphabet♰༻☽⛧

PAIRING: Luke Castellan x Reader

WARNINGS: Established Relationship. Possible spoilers for TLT, Kissing, Making Out, OOC Luke.

W.C: 2.6K

A/N: I have not read the books only knowledge I have of Luke is from the movies, TV show, and multiple fics I have read. With that being said this is purely for fun and these are just my headcannons. You are more than welcome to disagree and leave feedback.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Luke is extremely affectionate. His love language is definitely touch (he's very much touch-starved). He's not afraid of PDA but he likes to be respectful of those around you. When you are in public he'll be affectionate in subtle ways hands on your waist as he walks behind you, a kiss on your forehead when he leaves the dining table, hands caressing your sides as he fixes your fighting stance. He loves to be in your presence. Whether swimming in the lake with you, sitting beside you when you eat, or laying on your bed with you in your warm embrace.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Luke as a best friend would start off slow. You'd be in Hermes cabin because you weren't claimed yet and of course, Luke would show you around and make you feel more welcome. Slowly as the days went on and you weren't claimed you grew closer to Luke. Feeling safer knowing that he would have your back in anything. Eventually, you were claimed and forced to move cabins. Luke thought that would be the end of it another one had gone and moved on. Luke obviously didn't know you. You came back. Even with your new friends in your cabin you still preferred Luke's company.

Luke as a best friend would be loyal to you. Seeing as you felt the same as he did on many things. You two were similar in so many ways. He'd have your back and defend you even when you weren't there. He'd hate every guy you dated even before he had feelings for you because you were too good. Too good for their greedy, filthy, stained hands, too good for even him. He'd be snarky showing a sassy side to you when he was more comfortable.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

When you are alone he can not keep his hands to himself. His hands always find a way under your shirt just resting on your waist, hands messaging your calves, hands running through your hair as you lay your head in his lap. Some of the times none of this is sexual he just loves to feel the warmth of your skin. He loves to feel the smoothness of your skin against his rough calloused palms, to see each strand of hair as he twirls your pretty hair in his hands, to feel your heartbeat thump in his ear as he lays against your chest.

Most of the time you cuddle with Luke you'd end up as the little spoon but once in a while when Luke was overwhelmed with life and was trapped in his head he would lay on your chest legs tangled with yours as he listened to your steady heartbeat

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

First things first Luke is a terrible cook. Not only did he run away at a young age but he has been in camp since he was 14 so there was no need for him to learn how to cook. Needless to say Luke is very smart and strategic so if he really wanted to he could definitely learn to cook.

Luke has always thought of settling down. He knew it was something he really wanted to do. Especially with you. He would have doubts. Not about being with you but you being with him. He thinks you deserve better than anything he could ever give you. He would love to have kids and prove that he could be a better father to them than his father was to him. He would always be there for them and support their goals and dreams, He would never leave them.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If you know Luke's story you know how it ends....... that being said Luke wouldn't want to break up with you. He'd want you to join him and be happy with him. However, seeing as you have morals you wouldn't join him. He would beg and plead for you to join him saying he loves you and needs you by his side.

Say he didn't join Kronos. Luke would try to fix whatever was wrong in your relationship. He would try so hard because he loves you. If he couldn't fix things then he'd let you down the easiest way to do it. He would assure you that even though you aren't not together anymore he would still care for you.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Luke is fully committed to you. His flesh, bones, and spirit belong to you and you only. He would think so much about popping the question. You guys were young and had a longggg life ahead of you. He'd always be scared that the day he did pop the question you would say no.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Luke is strong and he is well aware of it. He's no stranger to yanking your back towards him or grabbing your jaw firmly when he pulls you in for a kiss. In moments of heat and passion, he's what you want him to be. You want rough you got it just remember the safe word if anything. You want sweet he'll hold you like you would break and cradle you from the world.

Emotionally Luke is strong he has to be. He had to be growing up the way he did. He's no stranger to hiding his emotions. He wanted to be strong for you but you can always see right through him and tell when something is wrong. There's moments when his walls break and he crys to you about it all and you just hold him.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Luke is TOUCH STARVED. Any change he gets to hold you he will take it. Luke will hug you at least 20 times a day. When Luke hugs you it's engulfing. Luke is taller than you so when he hugs you from behind he loves to rest his chin on your head either that or sneak kisses into your neck.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Luke had liked Thalia and look how that ended..... Pine cones fate. When Luke realizes how much you really mean to him it scares him a bit. He's never loved anyone as much as he loved you and he was scared that you didn't feel the same for you or that he'd scarily lose you. So when you told him that you loved him first his eyes started to water. After a few seconds, he immediately said it back to you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Luke says he doesn't get jealous. This is partially true. You are attractive meaning people are going to be flirting with you which Luke doesn't mind. It's when people forget that you are with him and get bold is when he's practically fuming cartoon-style. He'll approach you and make it well known to the other that he is yours and you are his. He'll slip up behind you hands on your waist and place a kiss on your neck then he'll take his place beside you arm securely wrapped around your waist as he joins the conversation with ease.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like?)

Luke has two types of kisses. One where you are practically made of glass and he is scared you might break. One hand on the side of your head and the other one on your waist as he kisses you as if you were his lifeline. Gentle kisses as he pours his love into you. The other version is hungry and consuming. One hand resting on your neck and the other wrapped around your waist to pull you closer than you already are. A harsh mixture of teeth and tongue as he shows you how much he needs you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Seeing as most campers that join camp are around 12 years old Luke is pretty good around younger kids. He's always had patience and skill with them. Taking the time needed to show the kids a kind and welcoming hand.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Luke is always gone when you wake up. He snuck off in the night to avoid being caught. You'd get ready and meet him a breakfast where he is already sitting beside a spot he saved for you. His face would light up as he saw you complimenting you every morning even if had seen you hours ago. The conversation mainly consisted of how you slept and the plans for the day along with the occasional tease and snarky comment from Luke and the blushy eye-rolling from you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Since camp had a curfew you and Luke would sneak around most nights to be with each other. Most nights you and Luke would meet by the lake. Blanket hidden under some lifting tree roots and pulled out and placed on the sand whenever you and Luke were there. You'd talk about your days and gaze at the stares. Jokes and stories told about your past, your hopes, and your dreams. Some nights you'd fall asleep in each other's arms on the sand under the stars and the moon no one else in the world but the two of you. Luke would be the first to wake (Mostly because of his nightmare) he'd admire the way you slept and chuckle at the slight drool pooling out of your mouth onto his bare chest. He'd gently shake you awake and help you back to your cabin complaining about how you'd need to rethink the blanket on the sand idea because he has sand in places he did not want to have sand in

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Luke was open to you from day 1. You and him were so much alike that he felt compelled to confide in you. He would slowly tell you things about his past. The tension between him and his father. His failed quest that gave him his scar. His mother. He ached when he spoke about his past but your touch soothed his pain. Dulled it down enough to be shoved away.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Luke had way more patience than you that would be for sure. Dealing with younger kids all day would definitely require you too. Once in a while when Luke was upset he would always seek you out. Your very presence made him feel at ease. During the very very few chances Luke comes to you upset and snaps on you he immediately apologizes.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Luke is your wiki page. He remembers every single thing about you from your favorite candy to your childhood house. He remembers your favorite constellation, your childhood pet name, hell he even remembers your favorite pair of earrings that you lost on a 4th grade field trip. At this point, Luke knows more about you than you do yourself.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Luke's favorite moment in your relationship was the moment you finally got together. It wasn't perfect but it was yours. Luke had been talking to a girl from Aphrodite's cabin and she was flirting with him and Luke was all into it. You had gotten pissed off and ignored him the whole day. You had no reason to be upset. Luke had found you at the lake after curfew and confronted you about being weird and off and things escalated turning the whole thing into an angry love confession.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Luke and protectiveness are practically the same thing. He would do anything to ensure not a single hair on your pretty little head was harmed. He would protect you not only physically but emotionally. He hated to see you hurt in any way. Luke would rather protect you than have you protect him. In moments during camp activities when someone was swinging at him you'd step in and he'd be upset that you could have gotten hurt but also his heart swells with pride that you'd put yourself in danger for him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Luke tries every day. He is such a lover boy. Every day he will give you small gifts whether it's something he made or something he found. You have a collection of shiny rocks and pretty shells that Luke has gifted you through the years you've known him.

On dates and anniversaries, Luke goes all out. He has campers sneak your favorite things into camp candy, snacks, and flowers. He has the whole day planned out. From breakfast in bed to a fancy lunch in the forest, to a romantic dinner on the beach. All of your favorite things in your favorite places.

Luke's gifts were always given from the heart. You weren't materialistic Luke knew that so he got you gifts that held meaning. A bracelet made of string in your favorite color. Each bead on it marks a significant moment in your life since you got to camp. A seashell that he painted with a picture of your favorite constellation on the inside of it. Small yet meaningful and showing of effort put into his gifts.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Not much of a habit but Luke has such a strong hate for the gods specifically his father that makes him the worst version of himself (Kronos).

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Luke knows he's attractive with your help of course. After he got his scar his confidence plummeted. After lots of words of encouragement and affection, he slowly gained his confidence back. His baby loves how he looks and that's all that matters.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Luke would have never been one to say he felt like he needed someone to feel complete. However, since you came along he's felt as if you are his means to life themself. You are a deity he worships. He is completely devoted to you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Luke is surprisingly a really good singer. Sometimes at nights when you can't sleep, he'll take you to the lake and sing to you as you lay your head down on his chest.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Dishonesty. As someone who is lying to literally everyone, he knows a liar when he sees one. He's a hypocrite really he lies but hates when others do it. Especially to his face.

Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)

Luke doesn't sleep much when he is alone. His nightmares keep him up. However, when he's with you he tends to sleep a little longer than normal. You help him sleep.

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mylifesjustacarousel · 4 months ago

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bridget’s sister

pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested!)

summary: being bridget’s sister, everyone has their preconceived notions about you, but they couldn’t be more wrong. what happens when the shy princess and the arrogant pirate get paired up for an assignment?

type: fluff

CW: none

WC: 4.7k

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | requests are open! sorry for the long wait! <3 (not proofread!)

You were Bridget’s younger sister, only a year apart. Most people hate when they live in the shadow of their older siblings, but you felt that, that was far from the truth for you. You were very shy and kept to yourself, so you relished being in the shadow of your older sister. It kept the attention off of you. Not that there was ever much on you, though. You and Bridget weren’t exactly the most popular people ever. But, you both had Ella.

The three of you were sat in Bridget’s room, you on Bridget’s bed while the two girls were baking. “How was school today, y/n? Anything fun happen?” Bridget asked. She sort of acted as a mother figure for you ever since you had arrived at Merlin Academy. Being on your own was hard, but having your older sister around, and her best friend, made it a bit easier. You had a hard time making friends of your own, even back in Wonderland you didn’t have very many friends. But, you liked it that way. It made life less complicated.

“It was okay.” You shrugged. “Alchemy was pretty fun, but we got our first partnered assignment today.” She looked over at you, a puzzled look on her face. “Why is that bad? You love Alchemy!”

“I do, but uh, it’s my partner that’s really the issue.” you mumbled the last bit, your cheeks turning a bright pink. Ella giggled, popping the cupcakes that they had made into the oven. “Uh oh, does somebody have a crush on their partner? Who is it?” she asked. You just blushed more, grabbing one of Bridget’s pillows and burying your face in it. “I can’t say, it’s awful!” you exclaimed, your words muffled by the pillow.

Bridget sat down next to you, gently running her hand along your back. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell us. But, maybe we can help you out.”

“James Hook.” you said, your face still buried into the pillow. Ella raised a brow. “Who? We can’t hear you when you have a face full of pillow.” You groaned, sitting up as you mustered up the courage to even say his name.

“Hook. James Hook. He’s my partner.”

Ella’s eyes widened. “Him? He’s bad news, y/n. Not to mention, he hates us.” You flopped back onto the bed, covering your face with the pillow again. “I know! It’s terrible!”

“You can’t help who you like,” Bridget said, “What makes you like him?”

“I don’t know!” you whined, tossing the pillow across the room. “I know he’s mean, and I know he’s cold hearted. But, when I see him, it’s like my heart is riding a rollercoaster that’s going faster than the speed of light. He’s just so… him.”

“Maybe he could use someone to help warm up his little dead heart.” Ella shrugged. Bridget gently hit her arm, giving her a playful glare. “Ooh! Could I set up a date for you two? I just got a new cookbook, I could make you some desserts to bring!”

You sat up once more, quickly shaking your head. “No, you cannot get involved in this. It’s just a silly little crush, it’ll go away… I hope. There will be no dates, and there will be no desserts. If there’s one thing I’m not doing, it’s absolutely humiliating myself.”

“Well… why don’t you bring him a cupcake tomorrow?” Bridget asked.

“I am not putting a love spell on him, B.”

“Fine!”

You sat in your seat, your palms practically an ocean with how much they were sweating. The rest of the students were filing into the classroom, and you were silently praying that Hook wouldn’t even bother to show up today. But your prayers were quickly squashed when the brunette pirate sat next to you with a huff. Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, you couldn’t even look at him or else your heart would actually explode.

“Alright, class! Get with your partners and start on the assignment. I suggest you work with each other outside of class as well for the presentation portion of the project.” Merlin announced before going to his desk.

“Um, are you ready?” you asked, pulling out your notebook and assignment guidelines. “I didn’t bring any of that stuff.” He gestured to all of the books you had pulled out. “Oh! Um, well here!” You set a few pieces of paper and a pencil in front of him.

You stood up, pulling out the ingredients for the potion you were making. Hook stood next to you, his arm brushing against your shoulder. “I’m not really sure how to do… any of this. I can’t say I really care for this class.” he said.

“Okay! Well, I actually really really like this class, so don’t even worry about it,” you rambled on, “I will do most of it, just focus on taking notes.”

Hook watched you carefully as you poured ingredients into the cauldron. Well, he couldn’t care less about the assignment, he was mostly focused on you. The concentrated look on your face, the way your mouth moved silently when you were talking to yourself. He thought you were a little strange, but quite charming.

You felt his eyes on you, and it took everything in you to not look over at him. It’s just a silly little crush… or maybe a silly big crush. The two of you had never really spoken before you got partnered up, but you would see him walking around the school. His gorgeous smile, and the way he carried himself with confidence… arrogance, really. You knew that you should despise him, but you couldn’t help yourself. There had to be more than what he showed on the surface.

“Can you hand me the griffin claw?” you asked in your usual mousy tone. Hook snapped out of his trance, looking around. “Hmm? Oh, there it is.” He picked up the griffin claw, handing it over to you. You quietly thanked him, stirring up the potion.

Merlin kept a close eye on the two of you. He knew how Hook was, and that was why he partnered him up with you. He watched as you did all of the work as Hook sat there, the paper he was supposed to be taking notes on almost completely blank. He got up, going over to you two.

“I see that you two are almost done. That’s quite impressive. But, in order for you both to get credit during the presentation, you both need to do the work.” Merlin looked towards you. “I highly recommend that you two get together after school for a tutoring session. Maybe you could get Mr. Hook to actually pass this class.”

Hook sneered, picking up the pencil and jotting down unreadable notes. He had absolutely terrible handwriting. “I mean it, James.” Merlin said, walking back to his desk.

“I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” you mumbled. “It’s fine. So… your place or mine?” he asked.

Your eyes widened and your head turned to look in his direction. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Did I stutter, darling? Where are we meeting up later?”

Your heart melted at the pet name. How could someone be so awful, but so perfect at the same time?

Before your brain could even process the question, your mouth was already moving. “My place, come around six. Bring a notebook.” You tore off a piece of one of the papers that you gave him, writing down your dorm building and room number for him.

Oh, god. What did I just do? you thought.

“You what?!” Ella exclaimed, a look of absolute shock on her face.

“I invited Hook over to my room to study, and now I’m really freaking out!” You were pacing back and forth, your hands running through your own hair. “I don’t even know why I did that! My mouth started moving before my brain could even think! Oh god, this is going to end terribly! Should I cancel? I should cancel!”

“No, don’t cancel!” Bridget went over to you, putting her hands on your shoulders. “It’s clear that this is something that you want, y/n. You can’t stop love. You can repress it, but you can’t stop it. So don’t cancel. Just… be careful. Uli’s friends can be a little…”

“Mean. They can be mean and vicious.” Ella finished her sentence. “We’ll be here. If he tries anything, you know where to find us.”

“Oh, I feel like I’m gonna yak. Do I look okay? Please tell me I look okay!” you whined, straightening out your clothes. Bridget smiled, brushing your hair out of your face. “You look as beautiful as always. It’s going to be fine. You two will study and then he’ll leave. Why don’t you take a cupcake for the road? They’re strawberry shortcake, a new recipe.”

You sighed, looking over at the tray of freshly baked cupcakes. “What if this doesn’t go well? I can’t have the rest of the VKs after me, I literally will not survive.” Bridget cupped your cheeks. “You’re an amazing girl, you can do anything. It’s just studying, it’s not like it’s a date… even though I really want to plan one for you. I’m serious, I have a whole list of ideas.”

“It’s not happening, Bridg.”

“It could. You never knowwww!” she said in a singsong. You playfully rolled your eyes, picking two cupcakes up off of one of the many golden platters. “Okay, I’m going. If this doesn’t end well, at least I get a cupcake to eat.”

“Good luck! Make sure you swing by after to tell us how it went.” Bridget fixed your hair once more before leading you to the door. “Go get him!”

You pulled out your textbooks and cauldron, getting everything organized for Hook’s arrival. You seemed calm and collected on the outside, but it was like a million alarms were going off inside your head.

He doesn’t feel that way about you, he doesn’t even know you. It’s just a tutoring session.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you heard a knock on the door. Oh god, he’s here. You looked at yourself in the mirror, deeming yourself presentable before opening the door. “Hi , James. Um, come on in. Make yourself comfortable.”

Hook strolled in, his eyes darting around your room as he looked at all of your decor. “It’s very girly in here.” he commented as he sat down on your bed. “Um… thank you?” you replied, “So, I thought we could start with some reading and then you could practice working on the potion… or anything.”

Picking up one of the textbooks, you sat down next to him. Well, as close as you could get to him without feeling like you were going to spontaneously combust. You opened up the book to the page that explained the potion that the two of you were working on. “Um, it’s a pretty simple potion. One of the easier ones, actually.”

Hook scooted closer to you, reading the text over your shoulder. You could feel his breath hitting your cheek from how close he was. Not to mention, he smelled surprisingly incredible. “Okay, so, uh…” you mumbled. Your brain was completely short circuiting.

“Are you… alright?” he asked. You quickly snapped out of it, standing up and going over to your desk that you had set the cauldron up on. “Yup, never better!” You nervously giggled. “Just… take a look around while I finish setting up? I find hands on learning is a lot more effective.” He nodded and got up, quietly wandering around your room. His eyes landed on the tray of cupcakes that was on your nightstand. “Cupcakes? Do you bake?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh no, not me. Those are, uh, from my sister. She’s the baker.” you explained, “You can try one, if you want! Or not, whatever you want!” Hook laughed to himself, picking up one of the cupcakes.

Oh god, even his laugh is gorgeous.

“Is your sister the cupcake girl? The one with the pink hair?” he asked, his mouth full of cupcake. You froze, looking over at him. It wasn’t a secret in the slightest, but the VKs hated Bridget.

“Um… yes.”

“Hmm…” he mumbled, “You’re not anything like her. Wouldn’t have guessed if it wasn’t for the cupcake.” You pulled the rest of the ingredients out, trying to hide your face as it turned the shade of a tomato. “Um, is that a problem or something? Because if that’s a problem then I don’t think this is going to work.”

Hook shook his head quickly. “No, no! Just… making an observation. You don’t have to be so skittish all the time, I’m not gonna hurt you.” You quickly relaxed. “Okay, you’re right… Let’s just get to work.”

He went over to you, looking over all of the ingredients on the table. “You just have all of this stuff? Are you like a witch or something?” he teased. “Definitely not a witch. I don’t know, I just really like alchemy. It’s kind of like baking, but instead of desserts you can turn someone into a frog. Not that I ever have, though.”

“Seems like you really know your stuff. Well, show me how it’s done, princess. You’re probably my only hope of passing this class.”

“Okay… do you even know anything about alchemy?” you asked.

Hook shook his head. “Nope. Not a clue, lass.”

You sighed, opening your book back up. “Okay! It’s a super simple potion, you could probably do it with your eyes closed. It’s a rejuvenation spell. It makes things younger, or like new. You’re going to practice on…” You looked around your room before spotting a vase of dead flowers. You picked them up, bring them over to the table. “These. They’re well past their expiration date.”

He looked at the book, mumbling the ingredients list to himself as he picked up the labeled jars and started pouring ingredients in. You carefully watched him, reaching out and grabbing his hand when he almost put an incorrect ingredient in. “No! No, not that one. That one will make it go kaboom.”

Hook’s eyes glanced down at your hand, how it was so much smaller and daintier than his. He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away and setting the jar down. “Thanks. We definitely don’t want that.” You picked up the correct jar, handing it to him. “This one, but only a tiny amount. A little goes a long way.”

He poured it in as you grabbed the griffin claw. “Here, use this to stir it. Stir it slowly, if you stir it too fast you could completely ruin the potion.” you said. Hook nodded, taking the griffin claw from you. “Well, why don’t you help me? Just so I don’t ruin it, y’know?”

“Oh! Um, okay!” You wrapped your hand around his, your body pressed against his side as you helped him stir it. “Just like this, okay?”

“Just like that.” he mumbled, his body leaning into yours. You two stood there for a solid minute, just stirring the potion in silence. It was weird and strange, but something about it felt right. Once the potion turned a bright purple, you pulled away. “Okay! Um, here. We’ll pour it into here.” You pulled out a small spritzer bottle, opening it up. Hook helped you pour the potion into the bottle and you closed it up, handing it to him.

“Just spritz it on the flowers, like you’re watering plants.” you explained, putting the vase of wilted flowers in front of him. “If I spritz it on myself will I turn into, like, a baby or something?” he asked.

“Do not do that. Just water the flowers, James.”

He giggled, spritzing the flowers with the potion. Within seconds, the once dead flowers had practically sprung to life. Hook grinned, picking up one of the flowers and examining it. “These look incredible. Here, for you.” He extended his arm, offering the flower to you. “For being a great teacher.” You blushed, taking the flower from him. “That’s incredibly sweet of you, James. Didn’t think you had that kind of side to you.”

“I’m full of surprises, Ms. Wonderland. Like, for instance… I can juggle, or at least I used to be able to. I could juggle.” You set the flower back into the vase. “I’m sorry if this comes off the wrong way, but why’re you being so… nice?”

Hook scoffed, but you could tell that it was in more of a playful way. “I’m mean, not heartless. You’re helping me pass this class, and I appreciate it.”

“Well… I’m always here to help.” You started to clean up the ingredients on your desk. Hook sat on your bed, watching you. “Why’re you so shy? I mean, you and your sister are so… different.”

You shrugged. “I’ve always been this way. It was hard making friends back home, I never really felt like I fit in. So, I just… shut everyone out. Can’t have a hard time making friends if you stop trying. It’s been a little easier since coming here, but I just prefer keeping to myself, y’know? Makes everything less complicated.”

“I see. Well, I know that you already think about me in a certain way. But, I would like to think that we’re friends of some sort.”

“Your friends would hate me, James. I appreciate it, but I think that that’s a bad idea.” you sighed, finishing putting the rest of the jars away. “Um, you can go, if you’d like. You don’t have to stick around.”

Hook stayed where he was. “No, I think I’ll stay here. We’re friends, now whether you want us to be or not. So, come here, let’s talk.”

You hesitated before sitting down next to him. “We have nothing in common. You’re doing this just to prove some sort of point.” He took your hand in his. “I know that I have a very bad track record, and I know that I’m not exactly the greatest person. But, I think you’re nice. You’re nice, even when you definitely shouldn’t be.”

Your heart felt like it was running a marathon in that moment. Your hand felt so tiny and fragile in his. The coldness of the rings on his fingers brought you back to reality. “It’s getting late, James, curfew is gonna start soon.” You got up, going over to the door. “I will see you in class on Thursday, don’t forget what I taught you.”

He got up, making his way over to you. “Thank you for being a great teacher. I’ll see you around.” he said, winking at you before walking out. You shut the door behind him, sinking to the floor. If anything, your crush had gotten worse. You waited a few minutes to make sure Hook was gone before getting up and racing to Bridget’s room.

“Okay, okay! How’d it go?” Bridget asked, leading you to her bed to sit down. “There are no tears, so that’s a very good sign.” You groaned, flopping back onto her bed. “It was awful, B! He was so nice and he said that we’re friends!”

Ella and Bridget looked at each other with pure confusion. “I don’t think you know what awful means.” Ella said. You sat up, “I wanted my crush to be gone! But, he held my hand and he gave me a flower! A flower!” you exclaimed.

“It sounds like he has a little bit of a crush too.” Bridget pointed out. “Why don’t you tell him how you feel?”

“And risk getting rejected and humiliated? Yeah, I think I’ll pass. It’s just a stupid crush, it will go away.” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your fists. Bridget rubbed your back. “You can’t just will your feelings away. I think that you should talk to him about it.”

“I…” you trailed off. “I will think about it. But, I just don’t think I can do that to myself. I can’t be hurt like that.” Bridget pulled you into a hug, resting her chin on the top of your head. “You’re an amazing girl, as well as the best little sister I could possibly ask for. If he doesn’t think that you’re amazing, then he isn’t worth it. Okay? You’re great, and I want you to find someone who makes you feel that way.”

“You always know what to say, even if I don’t want you to say it.” Bridget giggled, pulling away to look at you. “I know. It’s my job as a big sister. Now, go get some sleep. You have class early in the morning.”

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, getting up. “Fine, mom. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye, Ella!” You gave them both a wave before leaving, heading back to your dorm.

It was the next day, and you were more or less avoiding Hook. Not that you didn’t appreciate your time together, but you could not look him in the eyes without feeling like your legs were about to turn to jello. You were sat at one of the many tables outside, quietly eating your lunch. From an outsiders perspective, you probably looked sad and lonely. But, you enjoyed the peace and quiet.

“Hey, lass! I’ve been looking for you all day!” Hook sat down next to you, making you almost jump out of your skin. “You scared me, Hook! Give a girl a warning!” you exclaimed. He giggled, leaning against you. “Sorry, sorry. So, how are you?”

“I’m… good?” You still didn’t understand why he was being so nice to you. Surely it had to be a part of some evil plan or something. The VKs aren’t nice to anyone. “Okay, what’s going on here? First the flower, now you’re seeking me out? Is this like a sick little mind game?”

Hook’s expression was one of hurt, but he quickly shook it off. “That’s not it at all. Ya know, I was very, how do you say… open minded about you. So why can’t you do the same?” You frowned, feeling a pit of nervousness in your stomach. “I… James, you have to understand where I’m coming from. You, um, don’t have the greatest reputation.”

“Yes, and I’m trying to show you that I’m more than that. I’m not going to lie and say that what you hear isn’t who I am, but I do have feelings.” he sighed. You sat there for a moment, just staring at him. “Okay, James. You gave me a chance, I’m going to give you one. But, just so you know, I do know how to turn you into a frog.” You hesitated for a moment before scooting closer to him. “It’s hard for me to open up to people, but if you’re going to put in the effort then I’ll do the same.”

He grinned, his eyes quickly flickering up and down as he checked you out. He didn’t even know who you were before you two got partnered up, but the night before made something click in his brain. You were shy and reserved, but when you opened up you were charming and sweet. It was a total change from the girls he usually sought, but it felt right. You were a change, a good change.

“Hey, my eyes are up here!” you giggled, nudging his arm. “If you’re gonna look at me like that, at least take me out first.” Hook shrugged, accepting your challenge. “Okay. Meet me at the lake tonight around seven. Bring a towel, don’t be late.” He got up, patting your arm before walking off. You sat there, your jaw dropped as you watched him walk away.

What just happened?

The Enchanted Lake was a pretty popular hangout spot where students went to swim and lounge on those especially hot days. You were sat on one of the many rocks, waiting for James to arrive. Your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest. You had never been on a date before, or on anything date adjacent. Was this even a date? As the minutes passed by, your mind started racing as well. He must’ve stood you up, that’s the only reasonable explanation.

“You okay, darling?”

You turned around, seeing Hook standing behind you. He was wearing a basic black t-shirt and maroon swim trunks, very different from his usual wardrobe. He looked cute. “Yeah, um, I’m fine!” You got up, going over to him. “It’s nice out tonight. Wanna go for a swim?” he asked. “Is that not why we’re here, Hook?” you replied.

He set his towel down, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it near the towel. You blushed, your eyes darting to look anywhere else. “You’re acting like I’m streaking, princess. Don’t be so shy.” He sat down on the ledge of the rock before pushing himself into the water. “Come on, it’s nice in here!”

You groaned, putting your towel down next to his before joining him. You started to shiver as the cold water touched your skin. “It is not nice, James! My legs are freezing!” you complained, wrapping your arms around yourself to maintain warmth. He swam over to you. “What’s your definition of freezing, darling?”

“This!” you exclaimed, your teeth chattering. He stood up, wrapping his arms around you. You completely froze in your spot. Hook was hugging you. His bare skin was touching yours. Your legs? Jello. Your heart? Rocketed out of your chest. “There, now you should be nice and warm.”

“Mhm.” you mumbled. It was like someone had doused the circuit board in your brain with a gallon of water. “Is this okay? I can let go.” he said, starting to pull his arms away. “No!” you exclaimed, your face bright red. “No, it’s okay.” He grinned, his hand resting on your waist.

The two of you stayed like that for a bit, your head moving to rest on his shoulder. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” you admitted, looking up at him. He looked puzzled. “I’ve, uh, never been on any sort of date before. I’m sorry if I’m being really awkward, I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

Hook reached his hand up, brushing your hair out of your face. “That doesn’t matter to me. I’m having fun. But you know what would make this even more fun?” he asked. “Going to the kitchen and making hot chocolate?” you responded hopefully. He pulled away from you, his hook resting against your back and his hand scooping your legs up. “What’re you doing, James?!” you giggled, holding onto him. He gave you a countdown from three before throwing you into the water.

When you came up to the surface, Hook swam over to you, barely able to breathe from how much he was laughing. You rolled your eyes, splashing water at his face. “Oh, come on, princess! Let loose and have some fun!” He stood up, taking your hand and pulling you closer so your chests were pressed together. “You’re a jerk, James!”

“You don’t mean that.” he teased, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Oh, I do.” you replied, your body language saying otherwise as you completely melted into his touch. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, as if he was silently asking for permission. You took a deep breath, your thoughts finally calming for the first time that night.

Screw it.

You grabbed his cheeks, standing on your tiptoes to pull him into a kiss. He immediately reciprocated, his hand running through your wet hair. His lips were soft and warm, and it was clear that he definitely had experience in the kissing department. He was one of the school’s biggest flirts, after all.

You pulled away from the kiss after what felt like centuries. “I’m sorry if that was bad, I’m new to all of this-”

“Shh, I’ve gotcha.” he whispered, his hand still lingering in your hair. “I know we don’t exactly have a lot in common. But, I would like to get to know you better. If that’s what you want.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I would like that a lot. Meet me in my dorm after class tomorrow? We could, um, watch a movie or something?”

“I would love that, princess.”

a/n: … part 2? 👀

#_emily’s writing_#descendants #descendants the rise of red #the rise of red #descendants x reader #descendants the rise of red x reader #the rise of red x reader #james hook #james hook x reader #young hook #young hook x reader #young james hook x reader

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