#not sure how much this warrants these tags but just in case i guess!

[chirp-featherfowl]

dawn of creation

(OHHHHHH MY GOD TUMBLR CRUSHED MY ART AGAIN. CLICK FOR HIGHER QUALITY. HOLY SHIT)

little logan under the cut because of course he wasn't there for it

[jeskoholic]

A Little Piece of You Chapter 17: The Ideal Girlfriend

This is a chapter from an on-going series. If you missed out on the previous entries, you can check my masterlist.

Previous chapter: A Coffee Date

Word count: 5,640

Tags: Male OC, Bestfriend Yujin, College friends, School Convo

Enjoy

“Come on man; I already explained things to you… I don’t have a girlfriend. Don’t be stupid.”

“Oh, is that the really the case?”

“Dawn… I know who you’re talking about and you’re dead wrong. She is just my best friend and there’s nothing else in the middle. I don’t know what made you think about anything about that.”

Dawn chuckled.

“What do you mean, Jae-in? Eve you called her as your ‘girlfriend’ at some point, right?”

“I did that because she’s a girl, right? She’s also my friend, so I think it just makes sense that I warrant myself calling her that. And by the way, I did that because of that one particular time that Shinwon and Kino drank their butts off and started asking stupid questions. I remember answering back at their claims just to make them both shut up. It was my only way out.”

“Well, sometimes things do work out like that especially with Shinwon and Kino. It’s funny how we don’t often see them talking together recently… “

“Hey, I don’t know what’s with you and the rest of UK, but why are y’all putting me in the hot seat now? You have no idea how much of a chore I had to endure with all the questioning from Hongseok and the others. Heck, even Yeri is being added to the mix and I can’t do anything about it. It feels weird that I’m complaining about this now, especially when I was so cool at it a while back but… I guess I was just uncomfortable talking about Soyeon especially to them. I only felt that when I was already relaying what transpired.”

“I don’t know about them… as far as I’m concerned, I just want to everyone else to be happy. I mean, look how well this first official date went with Jisoo. Like I said, if I don’t screw things up, this boat is sailing away smoothly. As a friend, I want those same things to happen to you guys as well, especially you, my man. I can’t even express to you how happy am I knowing my friends are good with Jisoo. It makes my efforts for her more relaxed knowing I have you guys behind me.”

“I’m happy for you man. It turned out to be a good idea that you brought us on this.”

“Wait, Jae-in… I just realized something…”

“Which is…?”

“You know with all of these happening… I’m sorry but I’ll have to introduce Soyeon to the conversation again. Do you mind?”

“Go ahead, I guess. We’re pretty much talking about her already at this point so might as well.”

Dawn scratched the back of his head just as he and Jae-in crossed a street towards a bright shop, of where they proceeded to continue on walking.

“I realized that… it’s been a while since you and Soyeon went dating, or went out, whatever… I just figured, you never introduced her to anyone else rather than the group, am I correct? I’m curious as to how she’d react with Soyeon given her personality is drastically different from most of us.”

“Who are we talking about? Is it Yujin?”

“Of course man, who else could it be? You know how Yujin works and how she’s so picky with stuff, especially those who date you. It’s funny to think how Wonyoung hated her so much back in high school and her predictions never came to fruition. You and Yujin were still friends up to this day. It’s hilarious when I think about how much that hated seeing each other because of you. I wonder how your ex would react once she finds out that you two have gone stronger ever since.”

“I get where you’re going at. Yujin is pretty much very nitpicky on whoever I’m dating, or having an intention to date but she has her reasons. After what happened with Wonyoung, she made sure to have my back ever since. She’s always been the brain in my heart, as I tend to act out of impulse without thought. I would go as far and say that she’s the voice inside my head telling me to think twice about things before heading in, which is exactly why I trust her so much. Also, you know how guys have that hint whenever a dickhead is hitting on a girl with malicious intent? Girls have that too, man, and Yujin’s been the one warning me of everything… well, at least until recently anyway.”

“Yeah, I know that. I just wondered, in case you introduced Soyeon to her… what do you think she’d say about her, then? Do you think she’s going to have the same thought like you did?”

“Knowing Yujin, she’ll be the first person to tell me to back off. All those realizations, all those reasons why I chose to end it with Soyeon… I’m sure she would have seen it coming before I even thought about it. It would feel as if she’d be the one to back off for me while I still can’t get the courage to do so. I don’t know; like I said: womanly instincts. She’d be sure to tease about it to me at some point along that, too.”

Dawn nodded.

“Well, in a way I envy you; girls are pretty hard to understand. At least you have Yujin there to help you out for things, especially on the red flags we guys are normally blind to.”

“I guess so… although with that whole thing with Soyeon, I never really told her anything. Joohyun-noona even knows more than her on this regard… I guess I never really had the chance to tell her as it went on… I just never thought of her as well. With how quiet she is, maybe she’s just really busy recently.

“You know what, come to think of it… I never saw Yujin since the semester began. I guess being on a different engineering department ought to show how dedicated she is compared to us, and how physically and mentally committed she is on school. Then again, I didn’t expect less from a high school top student. At least she’s not spending her weekends going to bars like we do.”

“Jae-in, but I heard that you barely join Kyungsoo and the others when they invite you out. I heard that you’re not even showing up.”

There was a pause, which involved Jae-in giving his friend a joking glare only for Dawn to return it with a smirk.

“Okay, Mr Smart-ass, I know you’re happy. I get it. I’m happy for you as well. I just don’t get why Yujin suddenly got dragged into this conversation out of nowhere. Point is I really haven’t talked to her for a while so she has no idea what’s going on with me. It might surprise her with how much shit I’ve been through without even being halfway across the semester.”

“Maybe that’s the point. I genuinely got curious how come she’s never heard of anything… surprised, even. You got to tell her and catch up, man. You two have been through a lot and she ought to know at some point. In that case, it would be better if it would be from you.”

Kim Hyojong and Yoon Jae-in reached the end path of the long street they have been traversing on. The skies have completely showed its vibrant purple hue as the day succumbed into the incoming evening. As always, Seoul’s bright night life had begun to bare itself amidst the baby steps of the twilight. Shops began to show their innate beauty along with the approaching evening, with Jae-in only being able to realize what he was missing right as he and Hyojong were about to part ways. He stood with his eyes on the marketplace’s humble horizon, its roof carefully etched to match the elegance of the incoming dusk.

Maybe I should. I do kinda miss that chaos of a girl as well.

---

After the grand culmination of Dawn’s plan, it was suffice to say that he had once again become incognito, but I quite expected that. I really could not blame him; after that good enough of a start, he ought to focus all of his efforts towards Jisoo if he really want to make the most out of what has been given to him. Plus, the rest of the United Kwangya have been really confined lately, with the conversations solely existing between the occasional appearances of Ningning complaining about how she constantly forgets her basic maths skills, Kino teasing her about it, Kyungsoo moderating all of them. Yeri and Shinwon became the new love birds of the group effectively replacing me and Soyeon, which was a good thing. Granted, we never really displayed our affection in front of our friends, even if it was just a group chat, but at least the rest of the members attention were focused on them and not us. They didn’t even bother to bring up the topic of Jisoo and Dawn for the rest of the conversations.

Still, there was no word from Soyeon, as expected. It was also rather odd that I don’t see her around campus, be it with Ningning or Kyungsoo even for just a chance encounter. I don’t know if she’s doing that on purpose or we’re really just not allowed to see each other with fate dictating what the best is for both of us.

But I guess I could not complain with that. At least she and I could get a huge breathing room.

With the threat of the exams just being around the corner, I figured I might as well grab the chance to catch up with a long-time friend of mine. Who knows when she’ll be busy again?

I messaged Yujin exactly on that night that Dawn and I went our separate ways. Well, given the really tight schedule of this particular woman, I had to arrange our next get-together after quite a long time. Days passed and it was another weekend, and like how it passed by with Hyojong I found myself on a local bubble tea shop with a rather high, wooden ceiling. It was this small, compact space with a natural vibe echoing off of it with the wooden furniture, floorboards, ceiling, as well as the entire house-like feel of it. The open windows raged from all around, with the rear exit offering a veranda filled with chairs coupled with the breath-taking view of the city.

As much as I love the feel of the wind grazing my face as we’d consume our respective bubble teas, with the length of Yujin’s hair it ought to get to her face at some point. I don’t want to ruin her experience here just because of that, so I elected to pick tables indoors.

“Jae-in, heya,” I heard her voice call from the entrance of the shop’s doorway, appearing all in her youthful presence as she supplied me with an enthusiastic smile. “You finally decided to ask me out, hmmm? Can’t seem to find the perfect fairy for all this?”

Ahn Yujin greeted me on the same way she would almost every time I see her, and that is always with a wide smile over her tall stature. She showed up today with the clear understanding that white was the colour for that meet, having decided to wear a matching white long sleeves and track pants, finished with her white sneakers that fixed the over-all get-up while a folded jacket draped over her arm. Yujin had once again decided to have her bangs, and I think it suited her perfectly. Seeing her on a hairstyle I haven’t seen her do since high school, and especially on this time that I haven’t seen her for a while, it felt so nostalgic and very comforting in a way. It did felt like a relief to see my best friend from highschool looking and glowing so well. I’d lie if I didn’t miss this girl one bit.

“Give me a break, Yujin,” I replied to her as I smirked. “This might be on me but it’s far from being a date. I already ordered and it’s already here for you. I was actually serious when I said that your tea might screw itself up when you come in late.”

“Excuse me, oppa; you’re the one who’s early. I’m just in time. If this tastes bad, I’m going to ask you for another one.”

“I’m willing to bet that it’s not. I made sure to get your favourite.”

“Is that so?” Yujin replied as she rather surprisingly took the space next to me instead of the chair opposite where I was seated. She placed the small hand bag she had with her and brushed her bangs before taking the drink ordered for her.

“You know that there is a chair opposite me, right?”

“Well, I can see that. I can also see that you’re smart enough to pick the couch for yourself. In that case, endure sitting there. At least you have a pretty fairy next to you; that’s not a loss whatsoever.”

“It feels like it’s you who missed teasing me, Yujinnah. It almost makes me feel bad that I treated you out here,” I replied to her as a joke, which immediately earned a slap towards my arm.

“Yah, fine I’ll just stop,” she said and then proceeded to sip from the drink I bought her. “So what’s up with the sudden call, Jae-in? Are you heartbroken again?”

Oh my god… the fact that I know she’s joking but at the same time being so spot on is crazy on itself.

Now it feels awkward to open up because she did it first like that.

“I guess that’s the case then. You’re silence is more than enough evidence for it. Plus, your face says it all,” she concluded before I could even speak.

It’s so hard when someone knows you so damn much.

“Come on now… of course at some point I’m going to have to ask you out for us to catch up. I know how busy your department could get, being stuck on huge Chem books and all. I’m surprised that you even squeezed me into your busy sched.”

“It’s not that hectic, Jae-in, really. Most of you people are pretty much exaggerating when it comes to our study habits as well as our activities.”

“Really…? So everything that I’ve been hearing was just an exaggeration? Is that why I never even managed to bump unto you if it was even just by chance? It’s like we’re not even in the same university, you know.”

“Well… actually… it’s not an exaggeration because it’s an understatement, really. Oh my… you have no idea how happy I am that you asked me out, actually. I’ve never felt so burned out recently. You not being my classmate take a lot of time getting used to.”

“You’re not used to being around that much of a girl circle now, do you?”

“It’s… It’s definitely different. The people I’m with now… I feel like they’re so pigeonholed into the one goal of the degree we’re all pursuing. I get that, but I’m naturally a fun and outgoing person so… having to stay back with them feels really hard, especially when I’m used to being with you and not taking things all too seriously while still making things work out. It feels impossible to do that now. I also kinda miss us walking home together and sharing some street food on the way to the apartment like we did before. I can’t do that now because… I need to be high profile to blend in. It sucks for my wallet, too.”

“Did I mishear you or did you just tell me that you missed me?”

Yujin nearly choked from her chocolate mix as she supressed a laugh. That was not really intentional.

“Maybe I did… this entire thing of us going out felt so refreshing to me. I’m being serious now.”

“Well, if that’s the case… I’m happy that I thought of asking you when I did. I just figured that maybe it was high time for us to catch up on a couple different axes. I also figured things have come really differently on our first semester away from each other. I was wondering how you’re dealing with the change.”

“I don’t think I have to worry about you now, do I?” She said; keeping her keen eyes planted on my drink at the desk. “I heard a lot from Kyungsoo-oppa. He told me that you’ve been hanging out a lot with them at bars every weekend. Is that true?”

“Umm…”

Well, technically…

“If that’s really the case, then I’m really envious. I don’t think I’ve touched a single glass of alcohol since we parted ways…. By the way, what did you order? What’s in your cup? I don’t think I’ve seen that before.”

What?

Yujin’s sudden interest to whatever I ordered really threw me off, but then again she was always like this. I was just starting to take in what was going on with her when she grabbed the drink from my end of the table and brought it closer to her face. Yujin then eyed the contents through the small hole of the straw, even closing her other eye to get a better view at it.

“What flavour is this, Jae-in? I don’t think I’ve tried this out before. It looks like a cookie and vanilla mix.”

“Oh uhh… it’s apparently called a Snow Leopard. I got it because I love cookies and cream flavoured things. It’s good. Try it out.”

With that, Yujin nodded and immediately went off to sip from my straw; her eyes lighting up. She then took her drink and slid it on the table towards my side as if beckoning me to taste the very thing I ordered for her. I casually took the drink and took a sip from her straw and my taste buds were immediately filled with the unusual chocolate flavour. I did not expect less from a triple chocolate mix that Yujin dearly loves.

“Damn… that was an experience. I might try that out for myself some time,” she exclaimed as she returned my drink to my side of the table. “I might have drank a bit so it’s a bit lesser than… yeah. You get it.”

“Don’t worry. I expected nothing less, Ahn Yujin.”

She slapped my arm and in turn smiling towards my direction.

“Well, anyway I’ll head us back to the topic at hand before I got distracted. I heard a lot of deals from Kyungsoo, you know; some of which even surprised me so much.”

“I actually did not expect Kyungsoo to tell you something, but that’s not saying that I didn’t want you hearing about me. It’s not like I’m hiding it or anything. It’s just… I was expecting that you’d know soon but from either Kino or Shinwon, not Kyungsoo. I wonder how that went down…”

“I’ll have you know, it was Kyungsoo who told me because he felt so concerned towards you. He didn’t entirely tell me of everything, because in his head those still deserve to be told by you. All he told me was things have been rough for you lately, and asked me to check on you whenever I had the time. They said you’ve pretty much gone incognito from them, especially recently. I guess when you asked me out for this one, maybe it was a huge deciding factor for me to go as well.”

“So I guess he knew that I’d reach you at some point. He’s not wrong. Be it that I’m reaching you out because I want to catch up on a couple of different matters, there’s no denying that thing have been crazy rough lately, especially the couple last weeks. Let’s just say that I’m dealing with the aftermath of that, as you know it affected me now less than it did with… with someone named Jeon Soyeon.”

“Ah, so that’s her name, huh? Well then, we have all afternoon, Jae-in. Now I’m curious. Tell me the entire thing. Tell me how you and this Soyeon girl ended up, and why you decided to cut ties with her once you felt it was wrong.”

---

The one thing that Jae-in loved so much about Yujin was that she has always been a good listener.

She merely sat throughout the entire conversation, merely giving her best friend the occasional nods and shakes whenever there was an interesting detail with regards to the story, but of course included with that were the extreme reactions from Yujin’s rather expressive face.  Given how confident he is with her, Jae-in elected to not only include his insights among everything that happened, but also the details he would normally reserve for himself; that included everything, especially intimate moments. As expected, Yujin gave him a face of alarm. The ghost of that expression seemed to have continued until he reached the latter part of his story.

“Well, I guess you can see now why I ended what was going on between us,” Jae-in said with a clear conclusion. “It’s crazy, right? We haven’t gotten halfway through the semester yet and I already have this on the bag. It speaks too much about how bothered I am with the sudden development.”

“My god, Jae-in… I didn’t expect this to be this involved! You know what, I haven’t met this girl yet and I already do not like the sound of everything. It feels like there’s nothing linking you together aside from your sudden outbursts of hormones, and that’s even trying to call it by the simplest of ways, believe me. You two are just horny, especially during all this.”

“I… I guess so…”

“You know, the fact that it turned out the way it did, it somehow reminded me of your ex. I’m sure that I’m not the only one who felt that, right?”

“That’s… well, most of the reason why I chose to back off largely was because of Wonyoung. Things have been… I don’t even know how to put it out, actually. I just felt that it was wrong to continue because it was something that I never wanted in the first place. It sucks that it even had to go to that degree that it was already too difficult to let her go given the circumstances. At this point, I’m just happy that I pulled it off.”

“As you should,” Yujin replied earnestly. She then proceeded to place her now-empty drink over the table and cross her legs afterwards. “My god, I could not even imagine how much of a sump we’ll have to go through again if she ended up being like exactly like Wonyoung. I would not be surprised if she did. I mean, look at her; she’s pretty much a girl who could get any guy she would like. They tend to get really reactive and loud expressing their feelings but when they don’t get what they want, the results would automatically be a disaster for the guy… for you, Yoon Jae-in.”

“Ummm…”

“Damn, can you imagine how things turned out with you and Wonyoung from before? Do you still remember how she hated me so much just for the fact that you’re my best friend… it’s as if I could do something about that? Hello…? What am I supposed to do? I’m not even wedging myself between you two and she acts as if we’re having sex in the dark.”

Jae-in chuckled.

“I do remember that; of course. We almost never go out together even for a small lunch out because he’s always like a detective watching me all the time. It’s so uncomfortable. I can’t even nod or greet you when we bump into each other while you have Wonyoung walking beside you, Jae-in. One small eye-contact between us, I immediately get a glare from her, Oh my god; I think she wants me to stop being your best friend back then. She wants me to be invisible when you’re around, like what the fuck?”

Jae-in chuckled and Yujin smiled at his reaction.

“You know, Yujin, now that I’m openly talking about this, that’s pretty much how it turned out before. You know how Wonyoung and I always argued about you; that she’s threatened of our friendship given how our relationship developed from us initially being best friends as well. She always thought that at some point, I’ll give her up for you. I’m pretty sure that it did happen, you know; I chose you as my best friend instead of sulking on our doomed relationship anyway.”

“Jae-in, hearing all this from you makes me want to go out and eat lunch with you, but not a normal one. We should make sure that Wonyoung sees it as well, just so we can show her how our friendship thrived further the moment that she was out of the picture. I want to show her that a guy and a girl could be friends without falling for each other.”

“You… you talk as if we didn’t really try to make something else out of this,” Jae-in remarked calmly. “In a way, we’re not really a good example for that, all things considered.”

“Well, the keyword was we DID try to make something out of it. It just didn’t feel right. I never thought that I’d ever be awkward to you, and I don’t want that one week of attempted dating to happen again between us. We’re soul mates Jae-in, and maybe that means that we’re destined to be the best of friends since the very beginning.”

“If you put it out that way, it makes me feel so happy that we chose friendship instead of making something impossible out of this one. You always had my back, Yujin. I’ll always be grateful for that”

“We didn’t work out, Jae-in, because I know that I’m not really your type,” Yujin said with a tone of humour, covering her mouth with her hand in the process. “And that’s okay for me, you know. I have no problems with it.”

“Wait, wait, that’s interesting, since you brought it up, what do you think my type is, exactly? What does Ahn Yujin think of Yoon Jae-in’s ideal girl and that is in terms of a lot of factors. Let’s hear you enumerate everything.”

“Ahh, so we’re in that stage now, hmm?” Yujin said before shifting her place on the couch and then rubbing her palms together. “Now this is interesting. Are you asking this from me so that you can confirm the similarities with what I’m about to say?”

“Maybe… or perhaps I could get an idea because I felt like I haven’t been running standards for a long time. It doesn’t have to be so complex, and you can base it on the previous people I’ve taken a liking on.”

“Well, I can’t do everything because we might take all afternoon… how about three?”

“Fair. Let’s do that.”

“Good enough. Well for starters, girls that are way too feminine do not pique your interest in any way, Jae-in. I’m pretty sure you are aware of that. You don’t like the typical text-book reserved, campus-crush kind of deal. You don’t like girls who are very well known because they are using fame to be something else. I get that it’s not that bad, but you’re not just into it because it feels fake. Does that make any sense?”

“It’s not something I would expect to come from you but I think I can understand it.”

“Good. Next, you’re more into people with strong personalities, which conflicts the other interest I just mentioned. I don’t know, but there’s a thin line between people you like who are have a very strong presence but not being over-all too feminine and vulgar about at the same time. I can get understand it in my head but I can’t find the words for it. I’ve been you friend for so long and I think I can understand it without words. I mean, I’ve met some people who were so timid and shy on the face value and yet they’re much defined once you get to know them. It’s kind of like that.”

The fact that she knows so much about me, up to this degree is somehow amazing and scary at the same time. It makes me wonder if I’m that much obvious whenever I’m with her.

But then again, maybe I am. I’m just that comfortable when I’ve with Yujin that I don’t seem to mind what kind of stories I spill to her. This conversation was way more yielding than I thought.

“Now for the last one, this one feels more like an observation from my end but somehow attracted to mature girls. It does not necessarily mean that you’re into girls that are older than you, but often enough age is often associated with maturity so I guess things tend to curve that way when it’s all said and done. It correlates. I guess there’s that sense of security that you get when it comes to people like that. In a way, it perfectly concludes all of the points I’ve stated previously.”

“I don’t think that… that it’s entirely true for Wonyoung. I mean, our ages are not that far apart you know.”

“Honestly, Wonyoung or even the Soyeon girl does not fit any of the traits I have mentioned. That explains why it was not a surprise that you decided to cut it off. On Wonyoung, I could understand, because at least you two developed from friends, but for the Soyeon girl, I guess it was pretty self-explanatory.”

“I guess so… I suddenly became conscious of the traits you mentioned, you know. I can’t bring myself to not consider them the next time that I take a liking into someone…”

“And you should, so that you won’t just fall on someone who barely even fits your standards. At least by then you’d be able to sort things out for yourself. I get it, Jae-in; love is one huge trial and error, but how many errors are you planning to bust through that you’ll finally let yourself loose for the world, hmm?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Jae-in, you’re a very soft, kind-hearted person and that’s about one thing that I really love about you. I’m pretty sure that I’m not the first one who said that, but on times like these it’s working against you. You need to learn when to say ‘no’ and keep you standards to yourself, because at the end of the day you still need to look after yourself. Can’t date ever girl in the world to find out if you’re compatible or not, right?”

“I’m trying to keep that in mind, Yujin… it’s just that with this Soyeon situation, I let it unfold to a painfully hard situation to get out of before I even began to make a move. It’s a mistake I don’t intend to do again.”

Jae-in sat there in silence, keeping his gaze peeled towards the empty drink he had in front of him. He may have stayed in that state for so long that Yujin grew concerned. There was a sudden, surprising sensation from his left side, only for it to be revealed to be from Yujin’s end. Somehow through the silence, she placed her hand over his as an act of affirmation and assurance. She then clasped it, making sure that Jae-in felt the presence of her then and there.”

“Don’t think of it badly, Jae-in. I’m not blaming you for everything that happened to you. In fact, I really admire your courage for being honest to the girl. No one should take away the emotions you battled while you’re at it, as well. Also… as much as I’m trying to force these sorts of ideas unto you, in the end we’re still human beings. Things could not be bound ideally, as they say.

“Finding a perfect person definitely involves a bound of luck as well as a good stroke of fate. You’ll never know when you’ll meet her, or if you’ve even met her already. The range of your destiny could be someone you’ve already spent a long time being with to someone you accidentally tripped over on the way home. It’s easier once you let your heart welcome it instead of your mind.”

I honestly don’t know if she’s aware of the mixed messages she’s sending about. However, there’s no denying that things like this are pretty hard to understand. In fact, a woman’s heart is hard to understand, as I heard someone wise once said.

“Sorry, I got carried away,” Yujin said finally, returning them both back to earth once again as she shook her head. “We should go, Jae-in; we’ve stayed so long here that we’re already hogging the best seat in the entire shop. Besides, I want to walk the park for a bit if you’re game. Shall we?”

And with one final nod, Jae-in agreed. The preparation to leave was as quick as the decision to do so with Yujin being the first one to head on off for them both. However, as Yoon Jae-in and Ahn Yujin walk towards the wide doors of the welcoming shop, the young man was dazed with the apparition of their final conversation; clearly curious as to what kind of destiny the future holds for a guy like him.

He has a feeling that fate would confirm his destiny very soon.

---

Next Chapter: Black Swan

[stellari-s]

How about a Yandere Ithaqua x reader? I think that an interesting story could be made out of this. And I know you've already had a story that you were involved in at some level Ithaqua as a Yandere. But i really wanna a see more yandere Ithaqua if it's not a problem. 😅

But you don't have to do it if you don't want to. Thank you for reading this 💕

P. S. : I love your stories and I hope you will continue to write such good stories.💕

🌹

hey, anon! thank you so much, your words mean so much to me 💝 so sorry this took a hot minute, haha. it also is a bit short too... but i hope i managed to put in some heart pounding moments in exchange! also i suggest reading this first if you haven't already, since this is meant to be a continuation-

request; yes, by anon! feel free to send in your ideas, as my inbox should be open✨

wc; 626 (+ 1 015).

tags; yandere! morningstar! ithaqua, gn! survivor! reader, mild depiction of blood, obsessive behavior, toxic relationship dynamic, possessiveness.

summary; someone had hurt you, and you refuse to tell who. it frustrates ithaqua to no end, to the point even sweet nothings become a comfort...

“who hurt you?”

the hunter - whose name you had later learned was “helel” - is standing before you while you sit on a bench, the wood somewhat worn down by time. you are gripping your arm to the point your palm is stained red. you don’t even need to grit your teeth to distract yourself, as it’s a mere cut you had gotten in another “game” you were forced to play.

at first, you were looking down on the ground with blank eyes, but eventually you slowly lift your head until your eyes meet his golden ones. they remind you of the sun, but at the same time they are like ice. a mix of hot and cold that elicits shivers down your spine.

“...i just scraped my arm on some thorns on the way here. it’s not a big deal.”

his eyes seem to swirl with a multitude of emotions. mostly anger - perhaps at you, or maybe whoever had actually hurt you - but call yourself delusional, but you feel there is also some worry shadowing his otherwise cold expression as well. his eyes remain frigid as he chuckles.

“oh, (y/n),” helel says, “how i love it when you lie to me, trembling like that.” his fingertips brush your cheek in an almost tender motion. “but don’t be afraid to tell me the truth.”

“what will you do if you know?” you ask, though you can already guess the answer.

helel smirks. “simple - i’ll make sure they never see the light of day again.”

the implications of his words sink down in your heart, and you soak it in like a sponge absorbing water.

“you might make things more complicated if you do, helel.”

“and that doesn’t matter. what does matter is that someone here has laid their hands on what doesn’t belong to them. doesn’t that alone warrant a punishment?” his fingertips trace your wound, and it feels as though he might dig his fingers in at any moment.

it is definitely something he could do if he wants.

but he doesn’t - instead, he leans in so you can see every miniscule detail of the faced sun attached to the center of his black mask. his voice, albeit a whisper, is low. “tell. me,” he demands, “the only one who can lay their hands on you is me. i’m the only one who can touch you, hurt you; make you feel alive. nobody can hold a finger to that. do not ever forget that.”

helel’s voice wavers slightly, perhaps in frustration.

hearing his tone, you realize something: at first glance, anyone from the outside would guess that it’s ithaqua who has full control over you, what with how possessive he is.

but arguably, that’s not completely the case.

this time it’s your fingers that caress his pale cheek, and after some thought, you reply, “i won’t tell you.” you see helel is about to retort, so you continue, not letting him have a chance to talk over you. “you don’t need to know, but you don’t have to worry, since this wound is trivial.” your hands trace down his neck, then his shoulders, before they find their way down his arm and to his hand until your pinky hits the orange ring on his finger. “but we can change that, can’t we?”

you flash him a small smile. the lantern hanging from that halberd he carries seems to go still. “in the future, don’t let yourself get hurt like this. don’t ever let such careless, dirty hands touch you again.”

as the pain becomes more raw, you wrap your arms around him. “i can assure you from the bottom of my heart the only person i hold in my heart is you, and only you, helel.”

[mt-musings]

Bluebell

Chapter 53

After being abruptly transferred to the BAU at what she suspects was Gideon's request, Cassie Boann struggles to find her footing. Shy and solitary by nature, the transition is made all the more difficult when Dr. Spencer Reid seems to take an almost immediate dislike to her. Unfortunately for them both, their respective areas of expertise leave them paired off more often than not. But when Cassie's past literally starts hunting her, Spencer is forced to consider that he might, in fact, not hate her at all.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Spencer Reid x OC

Warnings: Canon typical violence, kidnapping, stalking, drug use, blood, injury, death, PTSD, eventual smut, self-harming behavior, childhood sexual abuse, more tags to be added

Series Masterlist

Read on AO3

53. Territorial Pissings

She didn’t feel any better by the time she arrived at the familiar Southwest Precinct Station. She glanced around as they were shown inside by a Detective Barlowe, who led them to a conference room that had been cleared for their use. She glanced around, looking for any familiar faces—Trevor’s dad should have retired by now, but she couldn’t be sure. 

It would certainly complicate things if he hadn’t. 

She didn’t want to be there, not after the last time—they’d hauled her in kicking and screaming and she was pretty sure she bit one of the cops before they’d ever tossed her in an interview room. She hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to Trevor before Robert had someone sweep in and take her. She’d been on a plane to the east coast so fast then that her head had spun. 

It looked less shitty than it had fifteen years ago—it was clear the city had upped their police budget. Not that it made them any more competent, judging by the facts of the case so far. 

She’d read through the entire case file four times on the plane. The case against Trevor was circumstantial at best—they hadn’t even found enough to secure a search warrant to his apartment. Not that anyone seemed to care—had they all forgotten that the importance of the profiler was to be objective, to look at the evidence, to not fixated on one subject because they seemed the easiest to do so?

She paused as she felt a hand close on her bicep and turned to find Spencer looking concerned.

“Are you alright?”

“Just thinking. The file doesn’t quite make sense. I mean—doesn’t it seem a little, I don’t know, convenient? Why are we narrowing our pool down to one person before we even canvas? It seems like a big risk to me, especially when there’s a good chance Mandy’s still alive and out there. I mean, I know Hotch probably knows people here since he worked at the field office, but it seems strange.”

“I don’t know, I guess the locals are pretty sure.”

“So we’re just here to dig up the dirt they haven’t managed to find in the months since they discovered the first body?”

“I don’t—I don’t know, Cass. You’ll have to bring it up with Hotch. Maybe there’s something we don’t know yet that makes them so sure.”

“Maybe,” she said, though her tone made it clear how very much she doubted it. She told Hotch as much once the local detectives stepped out of the room.

“It feels lazy—I mean half of these so-called sightings were made by people who’s chases were dropped in exchange for their statements. I mean, isn’t it strange there’s no CCTV footage backing any of this up I really think it’s worth going back through and—“

“A lack of physical evidence doesn’t mean he’s innocent either,” Rossi said, raising an eyebrow.

“It does, actually in any court other than Kangaroo. I mean, if everyone’s already decided he’s the guy, why are we even here? Maybe it’s because there’s not even enough to hold him past 72 hours, never mind get a search warrant from a judge who’s ever opened a law book.”

“Listen, sweetheart, maybe you should stick to the CSI and we’ll work on the profile, alright?”

Cassie stared at him for a moment before turning to Hotch. He didn’t meet her gaze. 

“I need you to go to the morgue and examine the most recent victim,” Hotch said, nodding towards the door. She stared at him for a moment, brows furrowed before she turned on her heel. 

She went to the lab and compiled her report before asking someone to show her to the file storage. She often wished she could read as fast as Spencer, but found herself especially wishing when she saw the number of cabinets and knew how far she’d have to go back to prove her point. Still, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t gotten really good at speed-combing files since she’d started hunting through Soviet files for a trace of Hadeon. 

She opened the first drawer and began pulling files. She just needed to track down the evidence to make them believe her. 

---

He didn’t know how he knew, he just knew something was wrong. Maybe the house was too quiet—maybe Emma had seemed too quiet before going to bed, early, of her own volition. He usually had to force her, or else she fell asleep on one of her books. He thought maybe she was sick—it was almost April and everyone at school was getting one bug or another. That or she could just be trying to avoid his dad. He wasn’t usually home for dinner, whether he was working or not, but he’d made them eat ‘as a family’ and he knew she’d been on the verge of a panic attack the whole time. 

He crept upstairs to where Emma’s bedroom was, careful to avoid the creaky stair. She was probably just asleep, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until he checked on her. 

The door was slightly ajar and he froze, decade old panic seizing him. Emma was fast asleep, the blankets pulled off her, one arm still holding the stuffed elephant he’d dug out of his old toys to help her sleep. His dad was standing over her, eyes intent on her sleeping form. He’d pulled down her pants to expose her underwear, was tracing the scars on her thighs with a sick sort of satisfaction.

Trevor didn’t think. He just pushed into the room and grabbed the lamp off the bureau. His father had enough time to turn before he brought it down, hard, on his head. He collapsed in a heap on the ground and Trevor threw the lamp on his head before crossing to Emma and pulling up her pajamas before crushing her in a hug. He started to panic when she didn’t quite wake, her eyes only half opening. 

“Memm? Fuck, wake up. Wake up.” He was shaking, his whole body was shaking and he felt like he was going to be sick.

“‘M trying,” she slurred. He searched her face, taking in the glossy expression, the too-big pupils and putting it together with how she’d seem to crash as soon as dinner ended. His dad had prepared everyone’s plates, making them wait at the table.

He’d put something in her food.

“We’re going, okay? I’m gonna pack you a bag, you gotta try and wake up, okay Memmie? Listen to me, you gotta wake up. Try really, really hard, okay?”

She nodded, blinking rapidly. He took a deep breath and stepped over his dad, kicking him in the ribs as he went, and threw open the closet. He grabbed the duffle bag she’d come with and shoved all he could fit into it—clothes, shoes, books, the few toys she had laying about. He zippered it as much as he was able before throwing it over his shoulder and grabbing her from the bed, wrapping her blanket around her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying in to his shoulder. He took her downstairs and packed his own bag full of clothes and all the cash he had on hand and whatever else he could fit. He’d have to leave the records, but it was a small price to pay to get out. 

He carried her for four blocks before he found a phone booth. He’d ripped out the page of his notebook that had Claw’s number scribbled on it. He’d never meant to use it—he ran with a much heavier crowd and even though he was fun to hang out with and drink, he didn’t want to get mixed up in whatever he was running. 

Still, he was the only person Trevor knew that didn’t live with their parents and would never rat them out to the police, no matter what. 

He dropped in the coins and dialed, listening to it ring and ring until he was convinced no one would pick up. He was just about to hang up when a voice answered, sounding either very exhausted or very stoned. Maybe both.

“Hello?”

“Hi, um, this is Trev, I was looking for Claw?”

“Oooh the the Rat King guy, right? Yeah, gimme a second. CLAW! PHONE!”

“Hey, it’s Claw.”

“It’s Trev, um, I need a huge favor.”

“Man, you’re too young for me to sell—“

“No, no—I need somewhere to crash with my little sister. My dad—my dad was gonna hurt her so I hit him with a lamp and he might be dead, but we need a place to lay low. He’s a cop, so we’re fucked.”

“Fuck dude. Yeah, okay. Where are you? We’ll pick you up.”

Trevor gave him the address and hung up, scanning the street for oncoming traffic, for his dad’s beat up truck, for police lights. His heart was still hammering in his chest, his breathing too fast. He sat on the curb and squeezed his eyes shut, hugging Emma tighter to him as he tried to push away the flood of memories.

He’d almost been too late. 

He glanced down at her, smoothing back her hair to look at her face. She was fast asleep, her body limp, though when he checked her breathing it was normal. He smoothed his thumb over the scar on her cheek and hoped she wouldn’t remember tonight, wouldn’t have another reason to wake up screaming. 

He didn’t know what they’d do once they got to Claw’s—it wasn’t like he had a ton of money saved and he knew there would be people looking for them, people who would put Emma right back in that house with his monster of a father. He could figure it out though—he’d be eighteen in nine months and then it would be easier, by then they’d right them off as runaways. 

He just needed to focus on getting them through the next few days. 

---

Cassie walked back to the conference room, a thick stack of files in her arms. She was careful to obscure the names on the tabs, eyes peeled for any of the officers mentioned in the files. The last thing she needed to do right now was tip them off that she'd figured out why they were so insistent on pursuing their single lead, why'd they'd pulled in the FBI to legitimize and caver up the extent of what was actually happening.

“What are we doing wasting time with this, Hotch? She’s a glorified lab rat, what does she know about child abduction cases?” Rossi said, irritation plain.  “I’m sure she’s great in the lab, but the profile—“ 

Cassie stepped into the room and cleared her throat, schooling her face into something completely neutral. They’d both know that she’d heard what he’d said, but she wasn’t about to give anyone that satisfaction of an emotional reaction. She closed the door behind her to be safe, careful to keep her voice low and even and difficult for anyone passing by to overhear.

“I pulled the files of similar cases from the last few decades, I can have Dr. Reid go through them if that’s the most efficient use of time, they present a pattern that I believe excludes Boucher as a suspect and outlines something far more insidious. I also just got back the chemical analysis from the latest victim which shows a fairly nuanced use of forensic countermeasures, as I predicted, though I was able to isolate a single sample, which I’m running against VICAP. I’ll let you know if I get any hits,” she said, addressing only Hotch. He nodded.

“Hold off on the files, I want you and Reid to nail down the geographic profile as much as possible and run it against the places we know Boucher frequents.”

“Sir, I really think this deserves further investigation, it implicates—“

“Work the geographic profile for now. We’ll circle back if necessary.”

She stared at him for a moment, pursing her lips. Hotch had never cut her off like that, or disregarded what she had to say. Not until Rossi showed up. 

Still, she nodded before turning on her heel and walking back to the conference room where Spencer was working. 

“What’d he say about the files?”

“He wants you to nail down the geographic profile and figure out what overlap it has with Boucher’s routine.”

“Fair enough. Sorry, I know it’s not the angle you wanted to work.”

“I just—I’m going to get some air.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just need to cool down.”

“Okay. Just—let me know if you need anything, okay?”

She nodded, and walked back to the file room where she’d organized dozens of files, all documenting a frighteningly similar MO spanning nearly thirty years. A handful were unsolved—the ones that resulted in murder. But the rest, were the victims had survived—she’d really had to dig for them, because they’d all been dropped. Some had never been properly filed in the first place, just tucked away in the back of a file cabinet to rot. 

She was seething—of course it was easier to just go after Trevor, to follow the asinine little rabbit trail that seemed to oh-so-conveniently lead directly to him, outlined perfectly by the local-yokels. Why bother to look any deeper, to wonder why it seemed so obvious, why they’d be called in for such an obvious collar.

“I can’t wait until we can just haul Boucher in and be done with it. Fucking tired of all this federal profiling crap.”

Cassie froze. She recognized detective Meyer’s voice.

“As long as they find enough to book him,” came another voice, deeper. Detective Barlowe, then.

“We’ll make sure they find it,” Meyers replied and the pair laughed. “After that, no one will keep digging if he happens to, you know.”

Cassie’s stomach twisted. They were going to kill him. Pin it on him and kill him.

Sometimes she fucking hated being right. 

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. She waited until she was sure they’d wandered off before grabbing the stack of files and shoving them into her bag. She deposited her work laptop on the little desk in the corner of the file room and zipped everything up before taking the battery out of her cell phone, that way the last GPS ping would be at the station.

She stared at it for a long moment, knowing there wasn’t any going back. Still, if she stayed—she’d already tried to convince the rest of the team that Trevor wasn’t their unsub, had said over and over that the profile wasn’t right, that it felt like a frame job, but no one seemed to take her seriously. She doubted they’d take her seriously when she told them the department was dirty, that she’d heard Barlowe and Meyers laughing about planting evidence. Doubted even more they’d believe they were planning to murk him.

It was the same shit she’d had to put up with the last six years with her own case—how many time had she been brushed off for her ‘crackpot theories,’ how many reprocessing requests had been denied, how many requests to officially re-open the case had been all but laughed out of the higher ups offices? She was tired of it, tired of shitty police work, tired of negligence and apathy and downright sabotage. 

That was why she’d joined the FBI, after all—because no one gave enough of a shit to even attempt to solve her case. Because if she didn’t do it, no one would. Because she’d do the right thing, she’d always do the right thing—that was what she’d promised herself. It was why she first ended up in the Smithsonian lab, running samples the regular lab wouldn’t, doing basic evidentiary due diligence. It had started off with her parents’ case of course, but there were so many others that had been shunted to similar statuses, enough that she’d created her referral system, her work-around to circumvent unit chiefs that couldn’t think out of the box.

She didn’t have one of the highest solve rates in CASMIRC from fucking around and holding to methods and theories she knew didn’t work. No, she’d only invented an entirely new method to identifying remains, for widening the pool of reference, for turning dead ends into new leads. 

But then again, she was only a ‘glorified lab rat.’

And as long as she didn’t end up with a felony charge, she had a job waiting for whenever she wanted doing just that—Dr. Garvey would be thrilled. And it wasn’t as if the FBI had gotten her much closer to Hadeon. Sure, she had access to VICAP and files of possible suspects or more crimes, but the only true breakthrough she’d managed was because of her research in the lab. 

She hesitated for a moment, thinking of Spencer in the other room, diligently working on tracking down an innocent man whom he thought to be the obvious killer. She could tell him what she was about to do, tell him that she was going to walk away from it all. He’d try to talk her out of it, someone might hear, and then he’d either have to tell Hotch her plan and possibly give away any surprise advantage she might have had, or he’d have to lie and be made complicit.

It wasn’t fair to him, either way. Not when there was no chance he’d change her mind. She tried not to think about how her walking out without a word would gut him, how it would bring up all the awful memories of Gideon and his father, how he’d specifically asked her not to. 

She wasn’t leaving, not really. It would be a few days at most, a few days to put it all together, to find that little girl instead of wasting her time like everyone else on a wild goose chase. She wasn’t going to waste her time being hamstringed by protocol when she had a chance of preventing another death by doing what she knew was right.

Two, if she could manage it.

She scribbled a note, tucking it into Spencer’s cardigan pocket, which he’d left slung over a chair in the bullpen. She hoped it would be enough for him to understand.

She walked out of the station, bag slung over one shoulder. She didn’t look back, just kept walking until she was half a dozen blocks away, until she’d walked too far to turn back. This, at least, she could do. 

She could disappear. 

Previous Next

[forever-rogue]

Hello Sunshine

A/N: Hello! I’m here with a 7am shower idea that I couldn’t get out of my head. It’s just a little sweet and soft Frankie. Enjoy! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

*Bold - Frankie ; Italics - Reader

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: none

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey! What time did you want to meet up tomorrow for brunch?” you stared at the number you’d typed in and compared it to the one that the man you’d met the evening before had given you. You had been absolutely reluctant to go to the local bar’s speed dating evening before, but your best friend had convinced you to go. She was going to go as well, so you figured if you ended up suffering, she would likely too - solidarity in its finest form. Much to your pleasant surprise however, you ended up having a fun time...the multiple rounds of drinks probably didn’t hurt either. 

Marcus had been your last round for the evening, and he had been kind and charming; easy on the eyes and easy to make conversation with. He asked you questions and you were able to ask him ones back. Definitely a sharp turn from what you were expecting; and by the end of the night he’d offered you his number and asked you to for brunch on Sunday. You’d been...elated; it had been some time since anyone had actually managed to capture your eye.

Before talking yourself out of sending the message, you hit send and put your phone onto your nightstand. You weren’t too nervous in general, but there was something about sending that first message that always caused butterflies to erupt into your stomach. It wasn’t but a few minutes before your phone vibrated to signal a new message. Trying not to get too eager and excited, you reached for it and quickly opened the new text.

Who is this?

Your brow furrowed in confusion at the seemingly hasty denial of acknowledgment. It was no matter, you groaned at yourself, you probably should have included your name in the first place. No big deal, you quickly typed out your name and added, “we met at the bar last night? For the speed dating event?”

Your stomach flipped nervously as you wondered what he would say; hoping it was just a misunderstanding and he would realize exactly who you were. 

I didn’t go to any bars last night. I don’t know who you are.

Oh. Your throat constricted as you reached for the napkin with the phone and compared it again to the number you had texted. There was no way you’d mistaken any of the numbers. Sighing heavily, you slipped out of bed and edged towards your bathroom and tossed the offending object into the can. Things had seemed like they’d gone so well...you’d genuinely liked Marcus and thought the attraction and chemistry was there on both sides. Apparently you’d been made a fool once again. Heat flooded your face in embarrassment as you contemplated whether or not to text again. To hell with it, you decided, you might as well apologize if nothing else.

So sorry. The guy I met must have given me the wrong number. I hope I didn’t ruin your night. Sorry for wasting your time.

After that bit of failure, you decided you might as well get back into bed and watch a show until you fell asleep. You felt beyond embarrassed and just wanted to forget about the whole thing. Needless to say, it surprised you when your phone went off again.

No worries. Sorry if I was rude too. It’s happened to me before with a couple of girls. It  sucks. 

At this point, you found yourself smiling at the sentiment, and decided that one more little text wouldn’t hurt anything. 

Seriously! Why can’t someone just tell you if they’re not interested? It's so much easier. Either way - thanks for understanding and have a good evening. 

You too. Hope things look up soon for you.

His response had been instant almost as if he had been watching you type it all. Whoever this stranger was - and you weren’t even sure if it was a man or woman - they had turned out to be kinder than Marcus. But it didn’t do well to dwell on it; Marcus would get what he deserved and this stranger would get some good things. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie put his phone on the charging pad he kept next to his bed, turning it on silent before crawling under the covers. Catching a glance of himself in the mirror, he was surprised to see that he had a smile on his face. Not that was perpetually frowning or mad, but usually he wasn’t just smiling for no reason. 

Although he had a feeling he knew the exact reason as to why he was actually happy for once because of...you. The random stranger that texted him and sent a happy shiver up his spine. He wasn’t happy because of your little predicament, knowing the exact feeling of having been duped and given the wrong number several times. But the short conversation had been pleasant enough and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d hear from you again. 

Doubtful, he reminded himself, it was just a one off type deal and that was that. And yet...that didn’t stop him from quickly grabbing his phone again and saving your name and number as a contact. You know...just in case. 

Francisco Morales had sweet dreams throughout that night. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie practically bounced into work the next morning, a smile on his face and spring in his step. So he seemed so out of normal form that his best friend and coworker, pointed it out to him and everyone. Frankie played it off like it was no big deal; in reality it wasn’t. You were just another stranger out in the world that flung into his orbit for a moment before leaving again. 

But that whole week felt different and somehow the world was a little brighter - filled with sunshine. Even if it wasn’t everlasting, he didn’t mind the feeling it gave him for the moment; the positive energy was nice for a change. 

Little did he know that across the city, you were existing in your own little world, going about your day to day in a similar manner. What a small world it was indeed. You had been incredibly tempted to look up his phone and see if you could find anything out about your mysterious stranger, a name, some sort of profile - anything  - but refrained. What if it was someone you ended up attracted? A beautiful woman or a good looking man that caused you to start all sorts of fantasies? No - you didn’t need all of that. You’d let it go or let whatever happened happen. 

Which likely was nothing. Right? Right. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Imagine your surprise when you found yourself at home with leftover pizza and a bottle of wine, resigning yourself to a quiet Saturday night when your phone vibrated. Figuring it was probably just one of your friends, or some sort of useless notification, you picked up your phone and found your jaw dropping. This wasn’t seriously happening, was it? 

Hey stranger. Hope this Saturday is better than the last one. 

Maybe they had the wrong number...or something. But no - they acknowledged the fact that last weekend had been shit and called you stranger. This had to be intentional. Setting your phone down for a moment, you grabbed your glass of wine and sipped on it, trying not to let the excitement of a single text get you too excited. They had done what you’d dreamed about all week...why not indulge in it? If nothing else, it might be nice to have someone to text with on occasion. 

Hi stranger. This Saturday involves me, the couch, pizza, and wine. I guess I really can’t complain. Hope yours is a good one too!

As soon as you hit send, you wanted to ban your head against the wall; was it too much? Not enough? Did it even warrant a response? Now you were just overthrowing everything. Shit, fuck, damn. 

But you weren't able to wallow in misery for too long before your phone went off again. Huh.

Sounds pretty good. Can't complain either, just at home with a beer and a movie. Missing the pizza though. Maybe I'll order some.

Definitely recommended! I don't know if this is odd, but you know my name and I don't know yours...do you have a name, stranger?

Not weird at all! Maybe I should have started with that. Francisco - Frankie.

Well Francisco-Frankie, it's nice to meet you. What movie are you watching?

Nice to meet you, no- longer-complete-stranger. Die Hard. A classic.

Oof. I'm afraid it ends here. Hot take - Die Hard is...notthatgood.

It's been a good but short time…how can you not like Die Hard!? What could you be watching that's so much better?

The Office. A modern classic and clearly superior to anything you're picking if you think Die Hard is good.

Fun fact - I've never seen a single episode of the Office. And never plan on it. Tell me, mystery girl, what should I get on my pizza?

I now make it my plan to convince you to watch The Office. Pepperoni, jalapeños, and tomatoes. Regular crust, none of that thin crust bs.

Challenge accepted. An odd combination but I'll give it a try. Results tbd.

Already listening - I'm a fan of it. I'll let you get back to your movie and order your pizza. Have a good night Francisco-Frankie.

You too, mystery girl.

There was an undeniably giant grin on your face as you set your phone back down. Had this actually happened? Surely this was some sort of dream; a random stranger actually striking up a conversation? And seemingly enjoying it? Out of this world.

As you downed your glass and got ready to refill it your phone vibrated once again. This time you didn't even bother to let a moment pass before picking it back up and opening the notification.

Can I text you again sometime?

Yeah...I'd like that.

You just about melted into the couch, happier than you had been in a long time. And all from texts from a man you still hadn't met. Who knew if you would ever meet him? Either way, this Francisco aka Frankie had proven to be a welcome disturbance in your life.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next couple of weeks passed in the same blissful fashion. You'd go about your day with work and other responsibilities and obligations but you had your pocket companion with you. That's what you nicknamed Frankie anyways. 

What has started as some texting here and there soon turned into conversations throughout the days, slowly becoming more personal and introspective with each passing day. And despite still knowing what he looked like or anything...you thrived in it. You'd wondered if he'd looked you up - he hadn't for the same reasons as you - and that's why you got along so well. 

The two of you had a lot in common but still managed to have your differences. One thing that never failed to make you smile was what had turned into his version of a good morning text.

Hello Sunshine. 

Hi Fly Boy. 

Stay dry today, its supposed to be a pretty bad downpour. Talk later?

Of course. Be safe too.

The small sentiment was enough to send you reeling; it was funny how easily conversation flowed between the two of you. Like in some ways you'd always known each other, but still were finding out things constantly. You weren't sure where it would lead to...if anything but for now you appreciated your new found friend.

»»————-　♡　————-««

I have a work party this weekend and it's formal. Do I go for an lbd or something colorful?

Depends - do you want people to approach or admire from the distance?

From the distance, so I can leave fairly quickly but people still know I was there.

Definitely LBD then.

My hero! Perfect idea!

»»————-　♡　————-««

How do I get out of a camping trip this weekend?

Why would you try and get out of it? You said you loved camping.

I do but...just not feeling it this weekend.

Tell them you're feeling or that your new girlfriend wants to spend the weekend together.

New girlfriend? I wasn't aware I had one…

Its called a white lie Frankie. Use me as an excuse if you have to.

You're the best! A real lifesaver, sunshine.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Okay, here's a tough one. Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?

All three. But if only one - coffee.

How do you take it?

Black with a little bit of sugar.

That's kind of the vibe I got! But you're wrong - the best answer is coffee in the am, afternoon tea, and then sometimes a hot chocolate for dessert.

Let me guess - salted caramel hot chocolate? 

How did you know?! Alright, Fly Boy, you know me too well already.

Just a hunch, sunshine. Okay - favorite color?

»»————-　♡　————-««

Do you think if I pretend to be dead I can leave work early?

Dramatic! I love it. How about a migraine? Last minute emergency?

Probably better. Migraine it is.

Just a thought. Beers with the guys tonight?

Yup. Girls night?

Yes! Talk tomorrow?

Of course.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Soooo I might have gotten myself into a predicament…

What happened?

Umm, I might have lied and told my friends that I started seeing someone…

Oh no.

Yeah...all because I couldn't admit that that guy had given me the wrong number. How do I explain?!

Maybe just don't say anything and then later say it died down or something? No need to drag it further.

You're right and I am an idiot. 

Nah, it happens to the best of us.

Hmm sure. Anyways, onto important things. Dogs or cats?

»»————-　♡　————-««

If you could only have one type of food for the rest of your life, what would it be and why?

Hmm, that’s a hard one. I’m torn between Mexican (the good stuff of course) and Italian and sushi. You? 

Pizza!

That’s not a type of food, Francisco!

It totally is. There’s different varieties, it can count!

That’s a cheap way to answer the question, but I’ll accept it because you’re cute. 

You think I’m cute? And just how do you know? Do I have a stalker?

Nah, too much effort. Besides, I’m usually busy talking to you. It would be kind of obvious if I was, wouldn’t it? I just have a feeling. 

Very funny, sunshine. I’m positive it’s the other way around. 

You’re the stalker? What am I wearing right now?

You know what I meant!

Of course I did. I’m the smart one in this duo, don’t forget. 

You’re too much. Want to watch a movie tonight? We start at the same time? 

Yes! Anything but Die Hard or other shitty movies along those lines.

You’re killing me here. One day I will convince you to watch it with me.

I look forward to that - but not tonight. Name your top 3 ideas.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Over the weeks, Frankie became an everyday part of your life. The two of you texted back and forth throughout the day as time allowed. It was nice - comforting to have him there despite the fact that he could have been anyone in the world. Well, you knew he was local to you from his area code but otherwise...a mystery.

You wondered if you’d ever encountered him out in the real world before. It was a definite possibility, but you would never know. Not unless you somehow actually ended up meeting him in person. The idea of proposing such a notion hadn’t seemed far off, especially since your days were filled with each other and there were undeniably flirty texts and insinuations. The few times you’d actually gotten the nerve up to just ask him, something always seemed to come and keep you from doing it. Namely - nerves. 

What if you were reading all wrong into this? What if he really wanted nothing more than a friendship? What if texting was the extent of it all? 

Naturally, you’d know your answer if you’d just fucking ask him. But that seemed like a momentous and herculean task and you weren’t sure if you’d ever be up for it. Perhaps things would just...happen one day. Despite getting to know him, he was still just this enigmatic aura. For all you knew you might as well have been fighting a robot. 

When then...one random night, a Wednesday evening when you’d just walked in the door with fresh produce from the downtown farmer’s market, your phone name. Shifting the large bags in your arms, you managed to fish your phone out of your pocket and answer it without looking at who it was. 

“Hello?” you kicked the door shut behind you and shuffled into the kitchen, unceremoniously dumping the bags onto the counters. At first you didn’t hear anything on the other end of the line besides some shuffling, but then eventually you heard a distant voice say something indiscernible. In confusion, you pulled the phone out from between your ear and shoulder and glanced at the contact. The name was enough to have your breath catch in your throat as you realized that your mysterious Frankie on the other end. He’d never called before...perhaps it had been a mistake? Even if it was, you were going to take full advantage of it, “Frankie? Hello? Come on Fly Boy, it’s me. If you can hear me, let me know.”

It was a few more seconds of shuffling and almost static like noise before you were positive you heard a quiet fuck. But then, in a moment that made your heart almost stop, you heard him, loud and clear, “h-hi….sunshine?”

“Hi Frankie,” you repeated as you felt your heart melt and legs turn to jelly, “I’m going to guess this wasn’t an intended call?”

“Umm, shit no,” he admitted with what you could only describe as a nervous laugh, “accidental pocket dial.”

“It’s 2021 and you’re pocket dialing people?” you snorted with laughter as you grabbed your earbuds to sync up the bluetooth so you could talk to him while putting away all of the fresh fruits and veggies you had acquired, “that’s such an old person thing, Frankie! What are you 50?”

“It’s not that weird,” he insisted with an indignant scoff as you giggled, “it can happen easily if you don’t lock your phone when you put it away and yeah...here we are. And for the record I am nowhere near 50! I am only 36.”

“Oof,” you opened the fridge and popped the veggies into the drawer, “I’m afraid that things end here, Grandpa.” 

“Very funny! How old are you then, huh? Oh my God - please don’t tell me I’ve been talking to and flirting with a teenager,” for a moment he sounded genuinely nervous as you almost doubled over in laughter at his panic. The fact that he had admitted to flirting was lost on you in your amusement he was so worried that he didn’t even notice the gaff, “sunshine!”

“I’m almost 30,” you reassured him and he instantly sighed in relief on the other end, “don’t worry. Besides, I told you I met the man I thought I was texting at a bar - at least I would have been 21.” 

“That still would have been weird,” he admitted as you made a small sound of agreement, “this is better.”

“Ha! Thanks for the sentiment,” you  rinsed and crunched on a carrot before hopping onto the counter to get comfortable. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should say your next words or not...but you decided to just do it, “this is...nice. I like hearing your voice. Makes you more real.”

“I like it too,” he agreed softly, a tinge of pink rising up in his cheeks, despite the fact that you couldn’t see it, “you sound like I thought.”

“Oh? Like an annoying twelve-year-old boy?” 

“Okay, okay, dramatic much?” he snorted, “just accept the compliment!”

“Fine,” you huffed, being very overdramatic indeed, “what are you up to tonight, Frankie? Want to cook together?”

“I’m yours - free, I mean free,” he corrected himself as you relished in his little mess up, “I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook. I’m a better baker.”

“Ooh, excellent,” you slid off the counter in excitement, “how about this - we’ll make something simple for dinner - I’ll walk you through it step by step, and then you’re in charge of dessert. Deal?”

“Deal,” Frankie felt a rush of excitement surge through him as he stepped into his kitchen and reached for his apron - the same one that Santi always made fun of him for, “what’s on the menu?”

»»————-　♡　————-««

And just like that texts turned into texts and phone calls. There was something so thrilling, like a huge surge of electricity shot down your spine and throughout your body every time you saw his name up pop or heard the sound of his voice. Frankie was...slowly turning into your constant companion and if you were being honest with yourself he was everything you had had ever wanted. 

And oh - how scary it was to be falling for a man you still hadn't met in person. Slowly, surely it would happen. Gods, you wanted it to happen so desperately. But you were painfully shy when it came to the idea of asking him out and little did you know, he was feeling exactly the same way. Frankie wanted nothing more than to finally ask you on a proper date, to spend all those times laughing with you in person. But he just...continually talked himself out of it.

He was just so shy, so nervous and he thought it would be impossible that someone like you would actually go for a guy like him. He was just...fly boy and you were his Sunshine. Frankie had given you the name early on, deciding that it was appropriate because you brought a little bit of sunshine into his life every day. It had almost brought you to tears - not that you'd admit that to anyone - not yet anyway. His nickname was simple - he was a former military pilot and now a part time ‘whenever he got the chance pilot’ - Fly Boy. It was perfect and he adored it as much as you.

And yet neither of you, pining silly fools had been able to make that final move. One day, you both reminded yourself constantly, one day.

And one day turned out to be sooner than either of you expected...

"Mmhmm," you murmured into the phone as you scoured the bookshelves of your local little bookstore. You had a rare afternoon off and to treat yourself to a nice coffee and searching for a new read. You'd fallen out of reading regularly and had made it a point to get back into it, aiming for a book month. Naturally, your friend had called you at that exact time, "of course pizza is always a good choice."

Frankie hummed under his breath as he walked through the aisles looking for the book you had recommended to him. He hadn’t thought much about the woman he saw a few rows over with a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. He did note, however, that the tone of her voice was sweet - not that he was trying to listen in on her conversation. 

“Yes it is!” you laughed into the phone, trying to keep it down when you noticed the man in your peripheral vision and aimed to keep from disturbing him, “pizza is good for whenever you don't know what to make. And you know the best - pepperoni, jalapenos, and tomatoes. No contest.”

Despite not trying to listen in to your conversation, as soon as he heard you describe pizza, his perked up and immediately his heart started pounding. A nervous rush of energy flowed through him as he tried to get a better look at you without making it obvious. Holy shit - was this actually it? Was he about to meet his Sunshine?

“I even told Frankie,” you insisted with a small smile as you took a sip of your coffee, “he liked it too. Yes...of course I’m still talking to him...I-I really like him. I hope that one day I can meet him. I keep wanting to ask and then I get so nervous and talk myself out of it. He’s just...lovely.”

This definitely couldn’t be a coincidence, right? The particular type of pizza, Frankie, wanting to meet - this had to be you. And the more he listened, despite his initial efforts, he couldn’t help but zone in on you. And now, hearing your voice unfiltered and unaltered through the phone, he knew it was you. He just stopped in his tracks as he watched you, a silly little smile on his face as he realized that somehow the universe had decided to throw him a bone. 

“Mhmm,” you murmured into the phone, “of course. I’ll talk to you later!”

Ending the call, you shoved your phone into your pocket and reached for one of the books that had piqued your interest. Sliding it out and reading over the back, you quickly got lost in your thoughts until you heard a throat clear behind you. Assuming you were in someone’s way, you shuffled to the side without glancing at who it was. But then you heard it - quiet and shy but clear, “Sunshine?”

At the sound of the nickname you’d been given by only one person throughout your entire life, your heart fluttered wildly in your chest as your body froze. Surely..surely this couldn’t be happening…

Turning around, slowly, painfully slowly, you found yourself staring at a face both brand new and immediately familiar. You’d never seen him before, but instantly it was like you knew him, all of him. In some ways you supposed, you did. 

“F-Frankie?” almost getting choked up, your voice was barely above a whisper as the handsome man in front of you slowly nodded. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as his whole features lit up with excitement. His brown eyes were soft and crinkled in the corners as his grew grin and a one singular dimple appeared. You weren’t really sure what you had pictured when you’d thought about your mysterious friend, but somehow this was right on the mark. You blinked a few times, trying to hold back your tears of sheer excitement, “you’re real after all!”

And then he laughed. A beautiful, glorious sound that caused a surge of warmth to rush through your entire body. He really was just as lovely as you’d dreamed. 

“Did you really think you were talking to a robot this whole time?” he asked as you flushed with warmth but stuck your tongue at him, “I can’t believe it’s really you. After all these months...finally. I’ve been wanting to ask you for so long but I didn’t think…”

“Me too,” you agreed, “me too. Small world, huh?”

“I was just looking for the book you recommended last night,” he admitted as you practically glowed with excitement. Holding up a finger, you turned around and quickly found the book in question and displayed it for him, “I didn’t think I’d find the book and the woman I’ve been talking to for months.”

“How did you know it was me?” you asked as you walked over to him and he offered up a sheepish grin.

“The pizza.”

“The pizza!” you snorted with laughter, “I should have known. Too obvious.”

“I like to think that everything happens for a reason,” he tried to take the book from your hands but you just shook your head, “what?”

“This is going to be from me to you,” you insisted as a tinge of pink welled up in his cheeks, “a souvenir from the day we met!”

“I’ll treasure it forever,” he promised and you could tell he meant it, “what are you doing tonight? Now?”

“I dunno,” you feigned innocence, “I was planning on going home to cook and talk to this guy I’ve been falling for for months, but that seems a little weird now.” 

“Will you let me take you to dinner -  a date? A real date?” he asked as you beamed at him and nodded. How could you ever say no. 

“Only if you take me to that Italian place you told me about!”

“Whatever you want, Sunshine,” he promised as he reached for your hand and gently laced your fingers together. It felt so easy, so effortless, and you didn’t even have to think about - natural. 

“You,” you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing his cheek, “just you, Frankie.”

“Sweet Sunshine.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[luxwritesfanfic]

Definitely Not Your Color

In true Sherlock fashion, he shows you exactly why green isn’t his color. Or, the one where reader can read auras and Sherlock is going through it at the sight of her new friend. AU!Bucky makes an appearance because I can’t live without him. Enjoy!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You were stood off to the side of the crime scene recounting your conversation with the last witness of the night. There had been yet another murder and Lestrade had requested Sherlock’s help for what seemed to be a serial killer in the making. Two murders in less than a week and Sherlock was thrilled and it was easy to tell. An array of yellows and subtle oranges surrounded him, engulfed him, as he explained how vacant Scotland Yard truly could be and how quickly he had figured out the killer’s M.O. He shined like the sun, and you swore you saw tendrils of sunlight shoot off of his fingers as he analyzed every aspect of the scene before him. All confidence, he paraded around the crime scene in a way you knew so well, pointing out things that even after working with him for months that you wouldn’t of picked up on. He was happy to be working again, to be playing, no, winning the game once more. 

You were thankful no one else saw his colors like you did. Because as sure as you were that he was what they meant when they said, “let there be light!”, you were sure that others would gravitate towards him even more until it got to a point that there was so much in between the two of you that you would only be able to see his shine from between the cracks of other people.

Pulling you out of your thoughts of Sherlock and things that you couldn’t control, you turned your head at the sound of someone’s throat clearing.

“He’s seriously brilliant.” An officer who you hadn’t recognized before stood behind you, holding his cap in his hands and drumming his fingers along the rim. He looked past you to where Sherlock and John were, a laugh slipped out from under his breath. “Makes it look so easy.”

Your lips twitched at the statement, a warmth you knew too well for your liking spreading around you. If anyone else could see you, really see you, you’d surely be figured out. Sherlock Holmes was a great man, you were sure of it. He was as intelligent as they came and as handsome as the devil, and sure— sometimes he could be rude, and maybe a little ignorant, and sometimes you really wanted to slap the smirk off of his face when playing Cluedo (Because, Sherlock, it can’t be the victim!) but you wouldn’t change him. 

They told you not to stare at the sun but you couldn’t help it. You needed to see what was really there because you refused to believe that a man who couldn’t feel a thing made the world look that vivid. You were the moth and he was the flame and if that meant dying a painful death just to bask in everything that he was, so be it. Evidently, there were worse ways to die.

Stealing one last glance like you couldn’t help yourself, you shoved your notebook and pen in your purse and made your way back to your conversation.

“He really is. You’re new, right? Lestrade mentioned he had some new guys joining the force. Can’t say you didn’t have an interesting first week.” You wanted to lighten the mood as much as you could because you knew this wasn’t an easy crime to see. You still couldn’t look at the body too long yourself without feeling the black sit heavy in your stomach.

“Don’t worry ma’am, I can handle it.” As if he read your mind, he gave you a warm smile and nodded. “My father, he, uh, he was an officer as well. Started me with the bad stuff early. Said it would give me a little more character and a lot more advantage. There’s not too much that can scare me away, I don’t think.”

You returned his smile. He was a cool blue, and it matched his eyes perfectly. It looked good on him, you decided. “Good. London needs all the help that we can get. Oh- I’m Y/N, by the way! I work with Sherlock and John sometimes. I’m not a genius or a doctor but I can take damn good notes.” And at that you both laughed, as he reassured you that the boys would have nothing to study from if it wasn’t for you. In turn it made you laugh even harder when you realized he hadn’t got the chance to see Sherlock visit his Mind Palace yet, where everything you could offer him he already had.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m James, but I hardly ever use my government if I don’t have to. Please, call me Bucky.” He reached his hand out to you and shook yours, that boyish smile never leaving his lips. From behind you, you could tell subconsciously that it had gotten significantly darker. Like a light had went out. You didn’t think enough of it to turn around and investigate it.

---

You found it was easy to talk to Bucky and you had more things in common than you could have expected. He was polite and seemed to have seriously believed that you were an integral part of the team that he needed to get to know. You appreciated his kindness and how friendly he was, and it seemed like more than anything he was grateful you were giving him a chance to belong. You couldn’t figure out why.

It just so happens that from the angle you were looking, you saw Sherlock’s shoes before you saw his face. It looked like moss had grown through the concrete and saturated him so thoroughly that you thought he wouldn’t soon be able to move. It made you uneasy how sickly the green made him look. You had never seen this color on him before.

“If I knew all you were going to do was stand around and disregard everything I say, I would have brought Molly instead. She listens. Intently.” Sherlock spat and cut his eyes at you before looking to Bucky and giving him a once over before digging in. 

“Generally, they say to try again and again if you fail. I would think that wouldn’t apply to something like the police academy. Third, no... fourth times the charm as they say?” The green fog spilled out of Sherlock’s mouth and continued to cover him, wrapping so tightly around his body that you thought he might have trouble breathing. Even though you were standing a few good feet away from him, you could feel how heavy the fog had made you, and you worried for Sherlock as it encompassed him. You almost made to reach for him because you were afraid you’d lose him under all the smoke.  

“You’re a favored drop out who still lives with his mother, no, father. That’s where the drinking problem comes from I assume? One failed relationship too many and now suddenly your calling is keeping the streets clean of the people you used to run them with. Now, I know Lestrade has horrible taste when it comes to putting together a team but tell me, how did he get so lucky as to stumble across you? It can’t be the... no wait, it is because of-“

“Sherlock!” You say exasperatedly, looking at him like he’s he’s got three heads when you can’t even see the one he’s got as it is. He is solid and dark and lost in this feeling that you can’t name and he’s not him. Well, he is him, but weighed down so much by whatever he’s trying to carry through that you can’t imagine he’s acting this hateful for no reason. You refuse to believe it.

Bucky sighed and somehow still managed to twitch his lips upwards, a ghost of the grin he wore before. “Well, Mr. Holmes, you are what they say you are. Brilliant for sure. Hell, you haven’t even spoken a word to me prior and you know my life.” You were shocked to see Bucky’s reaction, most people would of blacked out on Sherlock for an outburst like that and this one definitely warranted it. “You’re right, about all of those things. I guess I’m just trying to play the best game I can with the hand I was dealt. I’m not one for feeling sorry for myself.” He straightened up and fastened his cap back on as he caught eyes with Lestrade and returned a knowing nod. 

Turning to you, Bucky grinned as if it never phased him, like he had grown used to being talked down on. The blue never left him and that made you happy. You didn’t want him to feel bad.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I look forward to speaking with you again. Mr. Holmes.” With that, he bid you both a good night and headed towards his team.

“Sherlock,” you murmured when you turned back to face him. The fog was so dark that you couldn’t make out his features anymore. You felt the fear creeping up your neck while you were trying to figure out what was so wrong with him. “What’s wrong with you? I figured you’d be happy that you practically solved the case...?” 

You saw it, he had been happy. And then you remembered his earlier comment about Molly. Maybe he wished she was here instead to celebrate his win with him.

“Listen... if this is about Molly, you know you can always ask her to tag along instead. I don’t want you to feel... obligated to invite me. She’s probably more useful in a situation like this anyway.” 

You felt yourself internally deflate as you spoke, but you were able to make out Sherlock’s face once more under the city lights. The green began to thin out. He must’ve been relieved at your confession, you thought.

Sherlock visibly tensed for a second before quickly masking it under an air of nonchalance.

“I could care less about Molly or what she’s good for. All I care about is the work and that it gets done. You know that.”

You watched as time passed and you could start seeing more of him. You realized you’d been holding your breath for some time waiting for the green to dissipate and set your detective free. Sherlock was back with you, and whatever feeling tried to take him away from you was lost now. That’s all that mattered.

And, of course, because there were still pressing matters to finish attending to, your moment with Sherlock didn’t last long. You swore something had changed within him. Something you couldn’t name just yet.

You weren’t totally quite convinced that whatever had happened between you two back there wasn’t about Molly, or some strange feeling that Sherlock was having that he’d surely never talk about. Even still you continued to follow after him wherever he asked you to go, as he still always asked you to go. 

And if he happened to stand a little closer to you the next time you worked alongside Scotland Yard, you were none the wiser.

[onewomancitadel]

In the opposite sense, I've read fics tagged 'dubcon' worth a much darker rating than that, which betrays… quite a lot

This is a point I want to expand upon because it is extremely telling to me that fics where the underage character 'really wants it' - who is usually a teenager - get tagged 'dubcon' I froth at the fucking mouth. That's not dubcon. That's the oldest and most frequent excuse of paedophilia in the fucken handbook. How is that not statutory rape? How does that belong in the kitchen sink of cowardly bullshit with two characters consuming alcohol and fooling around? There's a staggering difference.

I don't have an issue with dark fiction, I have a profound issue with the pseudomoralising surrounding it. If you can't call a spade a spade... why are you writing it? I'm not saying 'fiction reals', I'm saying, is this how you justify writing rape to yourself because you can't fully commit to it? Because you live in fantasyland where teenage girls sleep with older men because they 'seduced' them? Dark fiction is one thing, it's an entirely another to consider its implications, particularly on what it reveals about our burgeoning sexual politics. The myth of the nymphet is fully alive and well.

But my point about dubcon is that because sometimes it embodies darker content such as this, yet sometimes it's something entirely innnocuous or the author isn't even sure if it warrants a dubcon label but does so for 'safety' (whatever the Hell that means? I guess avoiding the tag police), which obviously means it's not sustainable. It's just not.

Again, it's like, if you want to write darkfic but can't even confront what it actually is... It's a repeating theme I see over and over where they want to have their cake and eat it too. Dubcon, without the word 'rape'.

Yeah, I know, it's just fanfic, and it's moreso a case of reflecting issues with sexual attitudes than not - Lord knows that there are men proudly collecting women's traumatic testimony about rape to jerk off to, which makes this look like the kiddie pool - but in this case, the issue I have with it is its ostensible feminist and protective intentions. If it's posing itself as a solution for, say, safely categorising works and bringing awareness to consent, then it requires consideration.

I am also writing this reblog reply in mind with all the things I laid out in that initially linked post, just for full context.

That whole fucking thing of fucking with settings where the consent is clear because it's baked into the concept (fuck-or-die only happens because we know the characters really want it; it's the set-up and payoff) introducing more offensive concepts like 'dubcon' (if there is any space between 'yes' and 'no', you have now just muddied our ability to talk about rape and sexual assault clearly; either it's bad or it isn't, or you have now given ammunition to the rapist's defense) is so fucking annoyingly shortsighted. If you're too cowardly to commit and tag your fic 'rape' because your only conception of rape is physically violent and a stranger on the streets, then just be honest and think about what you're writing and why and how consent during sex actually works.

I also just hate this deconstructionist approach to narrative tropes. I get that critiquing the gender dynamics of established storytelling tropes is necessary, I do, and I get that there are some darker gender underpinnings, but when it comes to smushing characters together under a magical spell or scenarios where they just have to have sex, I think it's pretty clear like... what the intention of that trope is, and I think playing with it is fun (I definitely have a few in my head I want to eventually work on), but the inability to recognise what they service narratively, undercutting the entire point of them to even making them unromantic (ugh, I've read plenty of those) and then going even further and introducing bad, shortsighted sexual politics? I find this rather offensive. (This even applies to things like gameified soulmate tropes where I'm not even sure I'm reading a romantic story anymore lol).

I understand that the whole culture of 'dubcon' is well and truly accepted, and challenging it is worthless, but my criticism from it comes from the fact that I find it a) craven, b) offensive, c) further evidence of hypermoralising in fandom which ends up achieving nothing. If anybody wants to come at me for feminist reasons, know that I think this is moreso indicative of the way we talk about rape as opposed to being its own critical moral crisis (and fandom running around in circles to police itself) - I think difference of opinion can exist here if you've got good intentions - and if you separately feel there is a grey area between rape and sex, know that I don't really care. The case for this is frequently made by rapists. If it's an approach which says, well, better to overtag than undertag, I've been caught off-guard enough times with a fic where I'm like, what exactly is wrong here? And I otherwise have a sensible approach to consent, and it's made me pretty uncomfortable. In the opposite sense, I've read fics tagged 'dubcon' worth a much darker rating than that, which betrays... quite a lot.

Getting a bit much there, sorry. I just find this type of fandom politicking and overpolicing so tiresome, particularly because there are bigger issues and it's such demonstrable evidence of people not fundamentally giving a fuck and further to that, fucking with basic fucking narrative logic.

[granolabird]

Figuring it Out

I’m extremely worried about next weeks episode, but I’ve got this weeks after-episode Hournite fic to distract everyone from that worry just a little bit. Takes place just before the end of 2x07. Rick and Beth have just recieved the news of Yolanda leaving the team and they have to process it.

Warnings: None! Just some sad little teenage superheroes.

Tagging @hournites and @blackfemmecharacterdependency (If you’d like to join the tag list feel free to ask! I post a new fic every Tuesday)

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They’re sitting in Beth’s living room. Her parents are out again, and Beth is curled in the arm chair, not saying a word. Rick sits on the sofa, awkwardly twiddling his thumbs like he does whenever he isn’t quite sure what to say. Courtney had just called with the news that Yolanda had quit the team. Neither Beth nor Rick have said anything since Courtney broke the news. Instead they just sit in awkward silence, Ghostbusters playing on the Tv completely unnoticed. Rick had recommended another movie night to keep Beth’s mind off of things. He was not expecting everything to go this far off the rails.

Finally, Beth gets up, clicking off the Tv before turning to Rick.

“You should go.” She has tears in her eyes and she can’t quite make eye contact.

“What? Why? We were just getting to the good part, with the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man!” He’s trying to keep the tone light, it’s entirely the wrong thing to say but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like there’s nothing wrong, Rick. Yolanda is off the team. She quit. She quit and it’s my fault.” Beth hasn’t moved from where she stands but her head has dropped.

“Beth-”

“No Rick. You can’t talk me out of this one. You know I’m right.”

He does. Well, not entirely. There were a lot of contributing factors to Yolanda leaving, Beth being unable to comfort her was just one small gear in a much larger machine. Right? 

“You spoke what you felt. You stuck to your morals. You wouldn’t kill Brainwave, even if you said you would’ve I think we all know you wouldn’t have. That’s okay.” Rick keeps his tone soft.

“It’s not okay. It’s completely, entirely, not okay. Yolanda quit the team because I couldn’t tell a stupid lie. I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t…” At this point Beth starts to cry fully, and she slowly sinks to the floor, sobs wracking her entire form. 

Rick gets up now and makes his way over to where Beth is kneeling on the floor. Slowly, carefully, almost as if he’s trying not to spook an injured animal, he crouches in front of her and then wraps her in a hug. He doesn’t say anything, really he doesn’t know what he could say to fix this. He doesn’t think there’s anything that could fix this. So he just holds her, and she sobs into his shirt. It takes everything he has not to cry along with her.

After a few minutes, Beth leans back. Rick looks down, eyes running over her tear stained face as he tries to formulate words, but he keeps falling short.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he can utter, and by Beth’s immediate recoil he knows it was the wrong thing to say.

“What do you mean?”

“You have no reason to be sorry Rick, this isn’t your fault.”

“No, but I put pressure on you back there. When Yolanda first admitted to killing Brainwave. I asked your opinion-”

“If you didn’t ask, someone else would’ve Rick. Honestly I’m glad it was you that asked. If Courtney or Yolanda had, I think things would’ve gone even worse.”

“I mean, if I gave the answer I did, and they asked... I don’t know. I just. I don’t know.”

Beth isn’t even sure what she’s saying at this point, so overwhelmed by guilt and uncertainty and-

Rick is hugging her again.

He’s pulled her close, and just keeps holding her. She can tell by his heavy breathing that he’s really trying not to cry. Beth feels like that’s her fault too, which makes her feel even worse.  She should feel embarrassed, or excited that he’s holding her so close, or really anything else than the soul-crushing guilt that she’s feeling right now. But that’s all that she has. She is completely consumed by it, and she doesn’t know what to do. 

“I’m proud of you.” Rick’s head is resting atop Beth’s and she feels his chest rumble as he speaks.

“What?”

“I’m proud of you, Beth.”

She pulls away from him again, and looks up at him through tear-blurred eyes.

“I feel like you should be feeling the exact opposite of that right now.”

“No, I don’t think any of us made the situation better. I don’t think there was anything we could’ve said that would’ve made that situation better, really.”

“No. You told Yolanda the truth. You told her exactly how you felt, and didn’t sugar coat it. I tried to make it seem like I would’ve done the same thing, tried to spare her the guilt, and I think that hurt her more. She knew I wouldn’t have killed Brainwave. But I tried to convince her I would’ve to try and make her feel better. I think it just made her feel worse.” He runs one hand through his hair, keeping his other hand on Beth’s back.

“I don’t think what I said made her feel any better.” Beth manages a sarcastic laugh, and Rick half smiles, shaking his head. 

“I guess.”

There’s a pause in the conversation and Beth takes that as an opportunity to let her mind wander. She sits, thinking of all the different ways that conversation with Yolanda could’ve gone. All the things she could’ve said. She tries to make the outcome good. She tries to imagine lying to Yolanda, backing up Rick that yeah, anyone would’ve killed Brainwave in that situation. Yet she can still see the guilt and betrayal in Yolanda’s eyes, the knowledge that Beth wouldn’t really do that. And Rick is right, seeing that look, even if it’s imagined, somehow hurts more. With a shaky sigh Beth leans forward, placing her forehead against Rick’s chest, resigning to her fate.

“I hate this.” She says quietly, trying to hold back more tears.

Rick has both his arms around Beth again, and he’s staring off into the distance at who-knows-what.

“Yeah, I know. I hate this too.”

“What do we do?”

“We just keep going. When Yolanda feels comfortable, she’ll come back to us. Until then, I guess we'll wait.”

“I hate waiting.”

“You’re doing a lot of hating tonight Beth, that isn’t like you.” It’s half a joke, half a genuine concern on Rick’s behalf.

“I feel like it’s warranted. There’s a lot to be upset about.” 

Rick just gives a small chuckle and nods slowly, though Beth can’t see him, her head still leaning against his chest.

“So, uh, do you want to finish Ghostbusters?” Rick offers awkwardly after a while of silence. 

“I’ll be fine, Beth. We can keep watching the movie.”

Beth slowly pulls back and shakes her head.

“It’s getting late. I don’t want you to drive home in the dark and get hurt. I don’t think I could deal with that.” It’s the honest truth. She’s at her wits end.

“No, no it’s alright. I should probably go to bed early anyway, I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep after all of this.” Beth gets up, letting Rick's hands slide from her back as she moves to clean up a half-empty bowl of popcorn from the table.

Rick accepts that Beth wants to be alone, and so he helps her clean up, moving cups and bowls into the kitchen alongside her in silence.

Finally, when everything is put away, Rick grabs his jacket and heads for the door. Beth follows him, her footsteps wobbly and unsure. 

“Right, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay.” Rick is scanning Beth’s face again. 

He knows he does that too often but he can’t help himself. He always wants to know what she’s thinking inside that beautiful brain of hers. He wants to be able to see all her worries and whisk them away in an instant. Unfortunately he’s not that talented.

“Alright.” Beth crosses her arms and rubs them idly as she steadies her breathing.

“If something is wrong, or you can’t sleep, or your parents start fighting again, or anything, you can call me. I’ll be home, so I’ll answer right away. I promise.”

“Okay. Thanks, Rick.”

Rick simply smiles in response.

“You’re sure you’ll be alright?” He has to ask one more time, just in case.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine, I just need to sleep. We can figure out what to do next in the morning.”

Rick nods slowly. He wants to say something more, something that would fix all of this but he can’t, so he just keeps nodding.

“See you tomorrow, Beth.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She can’t bring herself to make eye contact, and that is enough to almost rip Rick’s heart in two. 

He manages to keep his composure, though. It’s only when he’s down Beth’s driveway in the safety of his car that he lets himself break. Lets himself lean against the steering wheel and cry. He doesn’t cry very often, but this is all too much at once. Rick feels like he’s being torn apart. Between Yolanda leaving the team, trying to figure out what to do with Grundy, trying to help Beth with her parents divorce, as well as trying to comprehend his feelings for Beth, it’s just all too much. It’s too much and it’s eating him alive. He manages to calm himself enough to drive, and slowly he backs his way out of the driveway. As he goes, he sees the silhouette of Beth in her bedroom window. He half wonders if she’s watching him go. He hopes she is. 

Beth watches Rick’s car drive away, her eyes tracking it’s bright yellow paint until it goes around a bend and she can’t see it anymore. She presses her forehead to the window, and it feels so cold and uninviting. She finds herself wishing it was Rick’s chest again. It wasn’t much, but he had made her feel at least a little better. She half wishes she had asked him to stay. She would’ve felt a lot safer if he were still around. She ignores that thought as well as the strange sense of dread that threatens to overwhelm her. Instead she gets ready and tucks herself into bed. In Beth’s mind, she replays all the scenarios of her confrontation with Yolanda until she finally sinks into a fitful sleep. 

In the morning she’ll call Rick and they’ll figure things out. They always do.

[thosewickedlovelies]

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Banana Bread (part 1)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: probably T for mature themes (implications of sexy times and violence). It will go up later ;)

Summary: You share an apartment wall with Javier Peña, but that doesn’t make it any easier to get to know him. You didn’t think your baking would be the catalyst (read: Javi is jealous that Connie gets all the extras).

Tags: Mention of blood; super vague description of wound care; alcohol; TW for Javi: you have FEELINGS bby

Word count: 2,791

A/N: I guess technically this starts at the beginning of season 1, but I don’t plan on referencing the events of the show, so imagine they’re working on things less intense than trying to catch Escobar. I found Javier really tricky to write for, so I hope this reads okay! I’m so excited about the future chapters I have outlined for this lol pls get hype.

Masterlist

---

You had only been living in your new place for about a month when you got new neighbors. You were glad for the company- the four-apartment building was fairly new, and didn’t feel very lived-in. You did your best to add some personal flair to your apartment, but it still had the effect of reminding you of your own newness to this place, your lack of any deep personal connections.

Your other neighbor didn’t exactly help with that. Javier Peña had lived here for awhile before you moved in, but that was all you knew about him; you didn’t speak much beyond your neighborly greetings and his insinuating smiles. He never hides his lingering glances, but nor does he make any other moves- you sense he’s a safe type, all bark and no bite (without consent). So you always amusedly but politely ignore the invitation implicit in your exchanges. They don’t seem to have a lot of depth anyway, as if he’s just trying for the sake of trying. Granted, he probably never has to do much more than that- you’re very aware of how attractive your neighbor is on the surface. You just prefer to feel a connection slightly deeper than surface level before going home with someone.

You learn more about him from Connie, who tells you that he works at the embassy with her husband, Steve. In “janitorial services.” You raise a bemused eyebrow at that, but respect your neighbors’ privacy and don’t ask further questions. You help Connie get a job at a hospital a few blocks away from the one you’re a nurse at and promise to help her practice Spanish.

The building feels more lively now, and you’re happy to have a confidant upstairs, especially one who’s more privy to the life of your enigmatic hall-mate. You don’t know if it’s the neighborly care you feel for your new friend or if there’s some other unconscious change, but you begin to keep an ear out for Javier. You do share an apartment wall, although you don’t glean much through it. Some standard kitchen rummaging, television noise, the occasional bedroom guest (whose enterprises you try not to listen to, but damn if the man doesn’t have a perfect voice for after-dark activities). The most noticeable thing about him is the odd hours he keeps: sometimes in tandem with Steve’s schedule and sometimes not, you can never predict when he’ll be in or out.

--

Little do you know, you’re not the only one paying attention. Javier has spent many an evening alone with only whiskey and the television for company, but now there are other things to stimulate his senses. The smell of your baking filtering through the wall, even lingering in the hallway the next morning. The sound of you singing to the radio while clattering about the kitchen. Sometimes he turns the tv down to listen and imagines there being no wall between your two homes. What would his life be like with someone to infuse that kind of sweetness and light into it?

He doesn’t mean you specifically, necessarily. If, once or twice, your face jumps to mind while he’s taking care of himself in bed, he thinks nothing of it. You’re his beautiful neighbor- it’s a fantasy begging to be played out.

But damn if he hasn’t been tempted to make it a reality. He gets to taste your baking sometimes when you leave extras with Connie, and one day she catches his brow creased in a frown, distracted halfway through a slice of walnut banana bread.

“Javi,” Connie repeats, trying to get his attention.

“Yeah.” Javier snaps out of it, looking up.

“You’ve been staring at that piece of banana bread for a full two minutes. Is it gonna do a trick?”

He decides to lean into it, see what Connie’s reaction might be. “Only if the trick is getting me out of my pants. I don’t know a man alive who could resist the shit she makes.” He scoops another forkful into his mouth to prove his point, letting the rich, nutty flavor remind him of other places. Homes. Real homes, made of people, not the solitary kind he lives in now.

She rolls her eyes at his crudeness, but agrees. “You’re right about that. I don’t know where she gets the energy to do this after hospital shifts.”

Javier hides his next thought with another forkful of bread and a noncommittal noise. Wonder if she’d have as much energy for it if she had a man to tire her out. It was automatic, a question he couldn’t help debating with himself. Surely no one who spent that much time in the kitchen could have energy to spare on…other pursuits.

Connie is regarding him shrewdly. He avoids her gaze, focusing on finishing his plate in large mouthfuls to avoid the questions he can feel brewing. But he’s not quick enough. “Has she always brought you extras too?” she asks. Too casually, idling with her fork.

“No,” Javier says dismissively, and it’s not quite a scoff. “She wasn’t here long before you showed up. We’re not as close as you two.” Understatement. Did he sound sour about the fact?

Before Connie can ask any more questions he rises from his seat. “Well, don’t let me keep you. Tell Steve what I said.” With a nod of farewell, he turns and strides out the door.

--

One night you’re awoken with a start from where you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Heart pounding, you sit up, listening intently. You’d never felt unsafe here, but you’re aware of the potential dangers. What had woken you?

You hear a swear from the hall, and your muscles relax as you recognize Javier’s low voice. There’s a beat of silence, then a scraping, clinking sound. He must have dropped his keys. But then he grunts, and concern sweeps over you. You’re a nurse- you recognize the sound of a man stifling his pain.

There are long delays before each new noise that indicates an action. The doorknob twists as he grunts again, but it’s a moment before the key turns in the lock. It seems to take an age for him to get through the door; his motions sound clumsy before he closes it. Safe in the privacy of his home, so he thinks, he lets out a longer sigh, the pain and exhaustion now obvious in the sound. But you can hear his fumbling through the wall, and you worry your lip between your teeth. It is your place to go see if he’s alright?

Finally you decide that it is. You’re his neighbor and a healthcare professional, and it is your professional opinion that he sounded in-pain enough to warrant a check-up. Plus, you heard him that way before he got inside, you reason. So it’s not as if you were just being snoopy through the wall.

Just in case, though, you grab some muffins you made earlier as a backup excuse (once again mentally thanking whoever left the cookbook in your apartment). 11:30 isn’t too late for a friendly drop-by, right?

You knock softly on his door. “Javier? It’s me.” Nervous energy taps in your fingers. You’re never even been on his side of the hallway before.

There’s a shuffling sound, and the door unlatches. A narrow gap opens, into which Javier plants himself, and you immediately zero in on where he keeps one leg wedged behind the door. He leans into the elbow propped against the doorjamb above his head, while his other hand already holds a glass of what you can smell is whiskey. He looks like he would rather be anywhere but here at this moment. “Neighbor,” he greets dryly, a neutral expression on his face.

“Uhh.” You’ve never been this close to him before, and his appearance catches you off-guard. His usually combed hair is messy, waves tangling over his forehead, and he’s sweaty, the open collar of his shirt damp and the exposed skin gleaming with moisture.

Javier raises an eyebrow expectantly, taking a sip of his drink. His glances down at the plate in your hands, and it prompts you to speak.

“Hi, Javier. Uh, sorry, I know it’s late, but I thought I’d bring you some of these-“ you lift the dish “-before they come with me to work tomorrow. They’re banana bread muffins.” Your voice falters with your confidence. Your eyes can’t help but flicker over his face and chest, taking in the smear of dust on his jaw, the redness of the knuckles wrapped around his glass. Mostly you’re trying not to look at the leg he’s definitely hiding, which you can tell he’s keeping his weight off of.

--

Javier stares at you, not buying it for a second. His lips purse for lack of a cigarette to wrap around. He shifts the weight he has on his arm- damn, his leg hurts- and wonders what could have possibly prompted you to start bringing him baked goods now of all moments. “Why aren’t you bring those to Connie’s?” Like usual.

“Um, well-“ He sees your gaze finally drop to the leg he’s kept out of view, and too late remembers who got Connie the hospital job.

“I heard you drop your keys, and it sounded like you were in pain,” you confess. “I’m a nurse, Javier. I can help if you need it.” Though apologetic, your tone is firm, face sincere as you offer him aid. Him, your grumpy neighbor who does nothing but leer at you.

Well, he isn’t that proud. Javier sighs, and opens the door further. Your eyes widen as you see the long slice in his pant leg, blood still damp around the wound beneath. “Shit, Javier, what happened? It doesn’t matter, shit, sit down.” You surge forward without waiting for permission, tucking yourself under the arm of his uninjured side and steering him toward a dining room chair. Where he’d been about to sit down down and tend to the cut himself. He supposes your apartments mirror each other, but your familiar reaction to the layout still surprises him.

“Whoa, hey, watch the whiskey,” he exclaims, flailing out the arm holding the glass, taken aback by your sudden manhandling. With one hand still occupied by the muffins, you direct him solely with an around his waist and your shoulder propped under his armpit. He couldn’t have resisted if he tried. If it weren’t for the fiery pain in his leg, your hold would have him feeling a very different kind of heat.

You give him a look that says you won’t be fooled by his blustering as you deposit him onto the chair and the plate on the table. “May I?” you ask, kneeling, hands hovering above his wound.

“Oh, now you’re asking permission?” He scoffs in disbelief but waves a hand in consent, leaning back in the seat.

You scoff right back at him. “Look, I see blood, I make the macho men sit, okay? Why didn’t you go to a hospital with this?”

Javier studies you as you carefully lift the denim to peer at the cut on his thigh. He takes a sip of whiskey to buy time (as well as dull the stinging pain). You’ve put on a robe over what looks like pajamas, but you seem too alert to have just dragged yourself from bed. And yet...was that a pillow mark on your cheek? Just there, arcing from your temple to your jaw…

“Javier?" you're looking up at him, a touch of confusion on your face.

“Did I wake you up?” he hears himself asking.

Her gaze drops again. “No,” you answer. “Well, yes, but I fell asleep on the couch, so it was a good thing.”

Ah, that explained the pillow mark.

Finally you stand. Your hands rest on your hips, heedless of your fingertips smudged red with his blood. “It doesn’t actually look too bad. I have enough supplies here to fix you up. You stay here, take off your pants if you can manage it by yourself, and I’ll be right back.” And with that you whisk away, robe swishing through his front door.

Javier remains where he is, a bit stunned by this turn of events, your sudden insertion into his life. He shakes his head. Maybe whiskey and blood loss shouldn’t go together. He tosses back the rest of his glass anyway in order to wrangle off his jeans.

By the time you return, he feels more composed, if rather uncomfortably vulnerable, sitting in just his boxers with a bloody slice across his thigh. He watches silently as you arrange various medical supplies on the table and pull up a chair across from him. You perch on the edge of it and look at him before doing anything else. “Are you gonna tell me how you got this?”

He’s not about to tell you it was a fluke accident during one of Carillo's interrogations. Somehow, while his back was turned, the guy got free and tried to escape, swinging a knife wildly as he hurled past Javier. The cut was long, ugly, but shallow. He’d live. He couldn’t say the same for the man who delivered it.

--

Javier considers his answer. “Can’t,” he says. “It’s better if you don’t know.” His gaze skitters away as he speaks.

He works for the government with a poker face like that? “Janitorial work, huh?” you say dryly. Sighing, you reach for the antiseptic. “At least tell me what made it. So I can treat it properly.” You look at him steadily.

Javier looks back for a long moment. “A knife,” he says at last.

You nod, and rip open a packet of gauze. He sucks air through his teeth as the antiseptic sears the wound clean, but otherwise doesn’t speak while you work. Which is fine. You notice he’s drained his glass, and you empathize. Frankly you wish you had a drink yourself right now.

Once you’ve cleaned the cut it’s easier to see the damage. Which is minimal, thankfully. Most of the blood was probably from him moving around when it happened. You explain what you’re doing as you seal the wound closed. Only when you’re almost finished does he speak.

“Why don’t you ever bake me anything?”

It’s so unexpected that your hands still. You stare at him in astonishment, waiting for him to elaborate.

“What I mean is…christ,” Javier mutters. The unflattering fluorescent light overhead highlights the dark circles under his eyes as he scrubs a hand over his face. “You always leave extras of stuff at Steve and Connie’s. Never here.” With me.

You resume your work on his thigh, surprised to feel a tinge of guilt. “You didn’t seem like a baked goods kind of guy,” you reply, hoping you don’t sound too defensive. It was true, after all. Though you never got a sense of threat from Javier, neither did he seem the type who would appreciate domestic gestures of friendship.

He didn’t look offended, however. I’ll try anything once,” he says, the ghost of a familiar smirk suggesting he’s feeling better. But then he leans forward, all traces of smirk vanishing. “And your lemon drizzle cake was incredible.” Javier looks at you seriously. His face is too close for your level of acquaintanceship, but you don’t move away.

Surprised, you assess him anew, wondering if you’re catching a glimpse of the man beneath all the masculine posturing. He’s nicer-looking this way, you muse. His face softer, brown eyes wide and sincere. You hide just how pleased you are at this insight (which you’re sure he has no idea he’s giving you) beyond allowing yourself a small smile.

“Well, maybe next time I’ll bring you some.”

--

Javier can’t quite find another quippy response, so he just gives a small nod, finding it hard to draw back even after you break his gaze. He tries not to fidget as you place a final strip of tape over the gauze bandage.

“There,” you declare, your work complete. “That should hold you for tonight.” You stand and gather up your supplies, giving him care instructions as you go. “Got it?” You seem much more relaxed than when you first arrived, confidence in your work squaring your shoulders. It’s…compelling, much more so than your usual reserved smiles in the hall.

“Yes ma’am.” Javier nods, not having heard a word. “…Thank you,” he adds, begrudgingly grateful.

You smile wryly at him. “Goodnight, Javier.”

You’ve nearly reached the door when he speaks again. “Javi.”

“Hm?” Pausing, you turn back to him.

He clears his throat. “You…you can call me Javi.”

Your smile is much warmer this time, brightening your eyes, and Javier feels his heart pound. “Goodnight, Javi.”

[orbitluke]

all my thoughts are consumed by you - emily prentiss smut

Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, cursing, exhibitionism

A/N: Apologies if you’ve already seen this on your dashboard, I deleted it because it wasn’t showing up under any tags. I’ve only ever written smut once before, so I hope this is ok! Feedback is welcome.

Summary: Emily can’t stop thinking about having her way with you aka my attempt at Dom!Emily.

 Word Count: 1747

 Emily found her gaze flickering from the files on her desk across the bullpen and towards you. She watched as you made your way through the paperwork that had accumulated from the most recent case in Texas. It was incredibly gruelling and left the team exhausted. The repetitive ticking of the clock on the wall reminding Emily of how long she had left until she’s able to touch you, embrace your body and feel your touch against her bare skin. Her stomach began to coil at the thought of marching over there and taking you on the desk in front of everyone. Her lips on yours as soft mewls, escape your mouth as she had her way with you. But Emily still had work to do and so did you and calling you to her office just to have her way with you would be highly inappropriate, however, not something out of ordinary for Emily.

 The mere thought brought back memories of last night when Emily had you spread on the hotel bed a mere few hours before the team were set to fly back to Quantico. The soft glow of the digital alarm clock on the bedside table, reminding you both that you had to leave in a few hours for an early lift-off. Emily lapped up your dripping core, desperate to have your taste on her tongue.

Obscene noises of Emily’s tongue against your clit filled the room, no doubt warranting a noise complaint if you were an octave higher. All you could do was grip the bedsheets, withering in pleasure, lifting your hips to meet Emily’s tongue.

 “You love having my tongue pressed against your pussy,” Emily drawled, whilst lifting her head away from your drenched cunt causing a string of wetness to trail down her chin. A knowing smirk stained Emily’s lips as licked the remnants of your arousal from around her mouth. You gasped and withered as you came down from your high, letting out a series of soft sighs.

 Your blissed-out gaze was something Emily could never forget.

 “Cumming on my mouth whilst our team are sleeping next door. Such a dirty girl.” Emily dove back in, trailing her tongue against your clit, humming against you cruelly. She pulled back once more, the sound of your wetness sending a surge of heat straight to Emily’s core. You let out a sharp gasp. You could feel Emily’s laugh through your entire body, edging you closer to another orgasm.

 “You’re nothing but a dirty whore who gets off on being caught.”

 All you could do was nod eagerly at Emily’s remark, letting a string of profanities, pathetically whining urging Emily to continue and bring you over the edge once more. Emily pulled you by your thighs. They were now draped over Emily’s shoulders. You didn’t think you could be any closer to Emily, but as she pressed a string of kiss down your inner thigh, nipping against your skin and ghosting over where you needed her most, you knew she wasn’t close enough.

 “Please!” you exclaimed, hoping your desperate cries would persuade Emily to give you what you wanted, but Emily wasn’t going to give in that easily.

 “Oh, does my baby want to cum?” Emily taunted, watching you, her desperate girlfriend, spread out and aching. 

  With one single movement, Emily had pulled you up so your faces were a few inches apart. Emily gripped your waist allowing you to shift her weight and wrap your thighs around Emily’s waist allowing you to steady your erratic breathing. You knew Emily could see your blissed-out gaze and feel your growing wetness against her bare leg, so desperate for Emily’s touch. Emily trailed a line of kisses along our jaw until she reached your earlobe where she whispered lewd phrases into your ear, edging you even further.

 You jutted your hips at Emily’s words, the feeling of Emily’s thigh sliding against you hit her just in the right place, sending shivers down your spine.

 “Such a needy, impatient little girl.”

 Emily found her own heat growing. She thrived on making you so desperate that you’d do anything to get off, even rubbing yourself against Emily’s thigh.

 “Don’t make me punish you.”

 Emily shifted her grip on your waist, allowing you to have better access. 

You let out a low moan, circling your hips once more as Emily edged you on. You could feel the familiar heat grow in your lower stomach. You were so close, but you knew if you came before Emily said so you wouldn’t be cumming any time soon.

 Much to your dismay, Emily’s grip on your waist tightened, making your movements come to a halt and your impending orgasm fade. Emily could feel you clench against her thigh. Your breathing unsteady and hair slick against your forehead.

 Emily pressed her lips against yours, reaching up to brush the hair out of your face.

 “You’re doing so good baby.” She coaxed.

 You could taste yourself on Emily’s tongue, reminding you that you were nothing but a dripping mess. Emily groaned as this, watching you nearly come apart from such a simple action.

  Emily reached down between your thighs rubbing your clit profusely.

 “Oh god.” You cried, reaching your hands up to your bare chest and rubbing your hardened nipples.

 Emily’s hand became covered by your wetness, allowing her to slide two fingers inside of you with ease, whilst her thumb brushed over your sensitive clit.

 You could feel yourself falling over the edge as Emily pushed her fingers further inside you. You slammed hips harder against Emily’s hand, whining at the closeness of your orgasm.

 “C’mon baby, you can do it, cum on my fingers.”

 With one last drawl of your hips, you could feel Emily reach your spot perfectly, triggering the familiar sensation of heat to bubble inside you. The room filled with a string of sinful noises. Wetness and a symphony of moans were music to Emily’s ears. Emily could feel her own arousal begin to grow as she heard you come down from your high. Your bare chest was pressed together, both panting rapidly as Emily let out a string of praises.

 The mere memory of the previous night causes Emily to press her legs together. All Emily wanted to do was taste you again and feel you come undone against her once more.

 A steady knock on the door broke Emily from her trance, making her remember she was not ravishing you right now, but still trapped in her office by dreaded work.

 “Come in.” Emily coughed, trying to hide her arousal, shifting in her seat as she attempted to ease the throbbing in her core.

Profilers seemed to be able to see past the smallest thing. Even the change in someone’s voice. Luckily for Emily, it was only Anderson dropping off some sheets she had asked to be copied, therefore unable to micro-analyse her behaviour. She was just Unit Chief Emily Prentiss.

 Emily pressed a small smile as she watched Anderson hand her the documents, muttering a small thank you. She continued with some small pleasantries.

As Anderson made the move to leave, he seemed to come to a pause in the door frame as he pulled her office door opening, shifting to the side and apologising as he moved out of the way for someone else. 

Emily looked up from where her eyes had been focused on the sheets to see you moving past Anderson, your fist held up as if you were about to knock.

Once Anderson was out of earshot you closed the door behind her, a smirk plastered across your face.

 “Agent Y/L/N what can I do for you.” Emily tried to remain poised as if her mind hadn’t been elsewhere moments ago.

 You moved closer to Emily, your finger sliding along the edge of Emily’s desk, faux innocence residing in your intentions.

 “I saw you watching me.” You gleamed, cocking your head to the side with a coy smile.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emily spoke with faux confusion as she set the documents she had been holding aside.

 You furrowed your brows, displeased by Emily’s response. You knew what you saw, and even now you could see the way Emily had pressed her legs together. 

 Leaned forward, you gripped the edge of her desk.

 “Oh,” You had begun, making sure she had a clear view of your cleavage. You made sure to wear a low-cut top. 

Emily remained unphased. Standing up straight, you continued. “I suppose you wouldn’t like to see this then.” 

You lifted up your skirt, revealing a lack of underwear, your lips slick with arousal. 

 “I was thinking about last night.” Your words were steady as you watched Emily shift in her seat. “But if you’re not bothered, I guess I could find someone else. Maybe Anderson would like a taste.” 

 Emily’s eyes darkened. Her shoulders were suddenly rigid. 

 “Close the blinds and lock the door.”

 You gleamed at Emily’s words, your smile much wider than before. You moved hurriedly, proud of the reaction you caused. Stumbling over your feet, you pulled the blinds closed, quickly checking if anyone was watching her actions. 

 The BAU was almost empty. Only Spencer had resided. His feet were crossed and propped up on his desk as he read over a file.  

 Only a few members of the team knew you were a couple. Tara had pegged you from the beginning, she often spent time with the Unit Chief and watched how her gaze lingered on you a little longer than most. Spencer, being the resident genius prided himself of being the first one to receive confirmation from you, after finding you with your lips locked in the evidence room. Despite your numerous rendezvous, you had managed to avoid the prying eyes of a higher-up. You’d face scrutiny for breaking protocol if they found out, especially Emily for being the Unit Chief, therefore, formalities remained whenever you were around anyone other than the team, but the feeling of your skin on hers would be worth it.

  “Is anyone there?” Emily quirked. She’d turned her chair to face you, her legs spread as an invitation for you to come closer.

 “J-just Spencer.”

 “What was that?” Emily pressed, her eyes furrowed, a gleam in her eye as she watched you squirm under her gaze.

 “Just Spencer Ma’am.”

 Perhaps Emily was going to have her way with you much sooner than she thought.

[ko-eko-ev-go-ms]

I just internally scream

TFW you double check your stuff to make sure you’re doing things properly within the rules only to realize you misread the rules and have actually fucked everything up so your soul shrivels up and dies

[tigerkirby215]

5e Ezreal, the Prodigal Explorer build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Suke “hugehugesword” Su. Made for Riot Games.)

In my constant and continued effort to deny Ezreal’s existence I finally had to get around to building him. Again it’s not that I don’t like him... I mean I don’t. But I kinda forgot what I was going to build him as. Lol.

Dorans & Dragons also made a build for Ezreal back in like... early 2020. Christ that’s before the world went to shit, ain’t it? Well regardless they also made their build before Tasha’s Cauldron came out and I think I can make a build that is different enough to warrant my build existing alongside theirs.

In short: this is an elaborate excuse for me to make another Artificer build.

GOALS

Gawk at this! - We need many a glowing projectile to spam at foes before blowing them up. Ezreal isn’t the type to just autoattack.

I always know a shortcut - Flash on a 15 second cooldown is nice. We’ll need to be able to blink around constantly throughout the entire fight.

Time to show 'em who's best - Nothing’s more dangerous than a well-placed Trueshot Barrage sniping through the entire enemy team.

RACE

Back to good ol’ Variant Human. As a Variant Human you can increase two of your ability scores by 1: increase your Intelligence and your Charisma, to be the hot smart twink you are. You also learn a Language of your choice along with a Skill of choice. You spent plenty of time studying The Void so Abyssal would make sense as a language, and for your skill Perception would help you spot traps or incoming ganks... as long as you remember to ward.

For your feat we’re going to be grabbing Arcane Shift as fast as possible with Fey Touched so you can start Flashing. (Not like that!) You can increase your Intelligence score by 1 and also learn the Misty Step spell. You can also add a Divination or Enchantment spell to your list and a little Heroism never hurt anyone. You can cast both of these spells once without spending a spell slot, and can then spend spell slots on them after the fact.

ABILITY SCORES

15; INTELLIGENCE - Archeology is a lot of history and facts... If you do it the boring way, that is!

14; DEXTERITY - Repeat it after me: “something something Medium armor.”

13; CHARISMA - You’re a pretty boy twink who got at least two girls on the Rift to fall for you.

12; WISDOM - Traveling through ancient temples and traps takes a degree of common sense. Not necessarily common sense you have, but a bit of boost never hurt.

10; CONSTITUTION - You’re an ADC, which means you’re squishy.

8; STRENGTH - Twink.

Feel free to swap Constitution around with another stat for better health but worse roleplay.

BACKGROUND

“Archaeologist” is just the nice way of saying Tomb Raider, which is the mean way of saying Adventurer! You get proficiency with History and Survival (hey you’ve gotta tough it out in the desert sometimes!) You also get proficiency in a language of your choice (I went for Dwarvish because Dwarves seem to have built most ruins) and proficiency in either Navigator’s Tools or Cartographer’s Tools... “Who needs a map?”

You spent enough time in ruins to pick up some Historical Knowledge on ancient dungeons and temples to know who made them. And if you find anything that belongs in a museum you know how much it’s worth to the museum!

(Artwork by Sangsoo Jeong. Made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ARTIFICER 1

Starting off as Artificer to “borrow” a few inventions. But also because you get training in Arcana to know your magical artifacts, Investigation to find said magical artifacts, and Calligrapher’s Tools to slay Ascended and Darkin alike in one blow. You also get Magical Tinkering to wave that gauntlet of yours around on some Tiny objects, making them glow or play sounds or do all sorts of things that Prestidigitation would probably do better. But at least you can play your own theme music too!

But of course the main appeal of being an Artificer is the Spellcasting. You can learn two cantrips from the Artificer list like Message to coordinate with your support and Guidance to help yourself find treasure! (Or help others I guess.) You can prepare a number of spells equal to your Intelligence modifier plus your Artificer level (rounded down.) Cure Wounds will let you summoner spell Heal yourself or your Support. Faerie Fire will serve as a more basic version of your Essence Flux, making an enemy easier to hit (therefor making them take more damage!) And Feather Fall is always useful in a pinch!

Also yes you don’t have your gauntlet yet so you’re going to have to use a Light Crossbow for now. Feel free to take a combat cantrip if you want but you don’t really need it.

LEVEL 2 - ARTIFICER 2

Second level Artificers can make Infusions, special definitely-not-stolen magical treasures that make them more awesome than everyone else. For a little more AD an Enhanced Weapon is useful to have. You can also put those goggles on your head to use by making Goggles of Night to see with your dumb human eyes. A Mind Sharpener may feel like a cheat, but I’m not going to say no to keeping Concentration in check. And for your final infusion? A Rope of Climbing might be useful? Honestly the more impressive stuff comes after you’ve done a bit more exploring.

You can also prepare another spell like Alarm, just in case someone’s planning to steal your... legitimately earned treasure.

LEVEL 3 - ARTIFICER 3

Third level Artificers get to choose their specialty and Armorers don’t have to wear an entire suit of armor; just a gauntlet! Along with proficiency in Smith’s Tools you can turn any suit of armor you find into Arcane Armor. The armor has a variety of benefits: no Strength requirement, the inability to have your armor removed against your will, the ability to take it off or put it on as an action, and some replacement limbs. But notably it works as an Artificer spell focus!

There’s two different Armor Models and we’ll be going for the Infiltrator variant for a Lightning Launcher. This makes your Gauntlet a weapon that deals a d6 of lightning damage, with a regular range of 90 and a long range of 300 in case you want to go for long ranged snipes. Additionally once per turn you can pop Essence Flux to do an extra d6 of damage on hit! And I didn’t even mention the best part: this works off your Intelligence! So no more need for the crossbow.

You also get your boots for Powered Steps, increasing your movement speed by 5 feet. And thanks to your Dampening Field you can hide in bushes with free Stealth advantage! I’d recommend trying to get a Breastplate because that’s the best armor you can get that doesn’t also impose stealth disadvantage, but even with Half Plate you can still be sneaky! Heck, you can even wear Platemail if you want! "And my boots are not waterproof. Fantastic."

Oh and you get some Armorer Spells! Magic Missile will autoaim for you like your Arcane Shift projectile, and Thunderwave is helpful for some self-peel.

LEVEL 4 - ARTIFICER 4

4th level Artificers get an Ability Score Improvement: seeing as we have uneven Intelligence take the Observant feat for +1 Intelligence and a boost to your passive Perception and Investigation to watch the minimap for people to snipe! Additionally you can spy on the bad guys if you want and read their lips to gain knowledge of all their secret plans!

More Intelligence does also usually mean more spells prepared but I’m going to wait for...

(Artwork by Xu “Crow God” Cheng. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 5 - ARTIFICER 5

5th level Armorers up their Attack Speed with Rising Spell Force, gaining an Extra Attack with the attack action!

You also get Mirror Image and Shatter added to your list of Armorer Spells, and can prepare spells like Rope Trick for a safe place to rest for awhile, and Heat Metal to really lay in that Essence Flux.

LEVEL 6 - ARTIFICER 6

6th level Artificers get more Infusions which is what I was waiting for! A Radiant Weapon is all the fun of an Enhanced Weapon but it also doubles as a flashlight for your dumb human eyes! And Boots of the Winding Path will let you Arcane Shift back to safety in case you accidentally run into danger.

Feel free to swap some of your old infusions around too. A Lantern of Revealing or Cloak of Elvenkind would be helpful... and Gloves of Thievery never hurt anyone.

And finally you can prepare Aid, as your natural awesomeness rubs off on your allies. "Oh, please, don't die. I can't lose a sidekick. Not again."

LEVEL 7 - WIZARD 1

You didn’t think this would just be a pure Artificer build, did you? Even if that would’ve been stronger I’m legally obligated to needlessly stick multiclass levels into all my builds. And Wizard is definitely a good multiclass for more slots to do Spellcasting! You learn 3 cantrips and six leveled spells as a first level Wizard:

CANTRIPS

To help your allies land their shots take Mind Sliver to weaken an enemy’s saving throws.

Prestidigitation will let you do a bunch of simple magic, and if you want you can have your own hero music too!

Finally Friends is good to make friends you don’t mind losing after they tell you where the ancient ruins are.

SPELLS

I basically just took everything with the Ritual tag. Alarm (yes you have it as an Artificer spell but you can swap that out), Comprehend Languages, Detect Magic, Identify, Tenser’s Floating Disk... and sure why not Find Familiar too? Seeing as you can ritual cast at will most of your early level stuff is going to be reserved for Ritual Casting, as you’re probably going to be spending most of your first level slots on Magic Missile and Faerie Fire anyways.

You also get Arcane Recovery, letting you recover spell slots equal to half your Wizard level (rounded up.) So right now you can get a first level spell slot back at the end of a Short Rest! And later on you can get more!

LEVEL 8 - WIZARD 2

Second level Wizards get to choose the school that their parents left them in before disappearing in the jungle, and the School of Evocation has a surprise tool that will help us later. Along with being an Evocation Savant (allowing you to copy Evocation spells into your spell book with half the time and cost) you can Sculpt Spells so that they only hit the bad guys: when you cast an Evocation spell (from any class, not just Wizard!) you can choose a number creatures equal to the spell’s level + 1. The chosen creatures automatically succeed on their saving throws against the spell, and they take no damage if they would normally take half damage on a successful save. This will be really useful when we get our (pseudo-)Global ultimate; wouldn’t want to fry your pals now would you?

We may as well grab some of those Evocation spells, right? Earth Tremor will let you hit an AoE Mystic Shot because Riot decided that Tiamat should have a cleave I guess, and I mean... Shield is never a bad thing to have?

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 9 - ARTIFICER 7

Back to the big brain plays: 7th level Artificers can make the biggest brain plays thanks to Flash of Genius, letting you boost an ally’s skill check or saving throw with your own natural perfection. The boost is equal to your Intelligence modifier and you can use this reaction a number of times equal to double your Intelligence modifier.

LEVEL 10 - ARTIFICER 8

8th level Artificers get another Ability Score Improvement? Well seeing as Intelligence still controls just about everything we do it would do good to increase that by 2! That does mean you can prepare more spells (both as a Wizard and as an Artificer) but I’m going to wait for...

LEVEL 11 - ARTIFICER 9

Every ADC dreams of being six-slotted; now you can be with Armor Modifications! Your Armorer armor counts as 4 separate items for the sake of your Infusions: the chest piece, boots, helmet, and the armor’s special weapon can all be infused. Far more importantly however you can have two extra infusions! Those infusions have to be on your armor, but you can put the Radiant Weapon (weapon) and Goggles of Night (helmet) onto your armor and save your other infusions for your allies! Or for yourself; yourself works too.

And we can’t forget the third level spells! You get Hypnotic Pattern from your Armorer Spells for an AoE stun, but far more importantly you get Lightning Bolt which will serve as Trueshot Barrage! And since you’re an Evocation Wizard you can shoot past your friends without blowing them to bits. "Oh, a plan. Yeah, I totally have one of those."

You can also prepare spells like Haste for more DPS (just don’t get stunned), Blink for some Duskblade invisibility, and replace Alarm with Revifify... Ya know: just in case.

LEVEL 12 - ARTIFICER 10

As an ADC it would be good to get six-slotted, and Magic Item Adept lets you get your 4th Legendary item! That’s because you can now attune to 4 magic items at once! (And can also craft Common and Uncommon magic items more easily.)

Speaking of Infusions, we can make more of them, such as a Cloak of Protection or Winged Boots! These are just generally useful but not really Ezreal specific; they’re mostly for your allies. "The gauntlet's for show... the talent's all me."

You can also prepare another spell like Fly which is just universally useful, and holy shit you get another cantrip. Take Mage Hand and maybe try to be a little more cautious when tomb raiding?

(Artwork by Bo “chenbowow” Chen. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - ARTIFICER 11

Do you want a lot more Mystic Shots? 11th level Artificers can make a Spell Storing Item and put an Artificer spell of first or second level inside. What’s cool about this is that anyone can use it, allowing them to cast the spell as if they were you!

My recommendation? Give them Mirror Image. It’s an amazing buff that doesn’t require Concentration. Even a low DEX Paladin will appreciate the chance to not be hit, and a high DEX ally can really get value out of Mirror Image. Yeah the Barbarian technically can’t cast while raging, but they can use this before going into a Rage to be very hard to hit!

And speaking of spells you can prepare another one, so how about you grab Create Food and Water to keep yourself sated on longer archeological trips. "Why didn't I eat before I got here...? Ezreal, why?!”

LEVEL 14 - ARITIFCER 12

12th level Artificers get another Ability Score Improvement... we got all we need in terms of stats (Intelligence lol) so now it’s time to really make some impressive trick shots: the Sharpshooter feat will let you attack at long range without disadvantage and ignore cover bonuses, but most importantly you can take a -5 to your attack roll for a whopping +10 to damage! Don’t use this on high AC targets obviously but if you think you’ll hit why not go for the one-shot? "No applause, please. ...Okay, maybe just a bit of thunderous acclaim. ...A little?"

LEVEL 15 - WIZARD 3

I do still want more spell slots, as well as more spells known! Truthfully there isn’t too much I want from second level, so take Locate Object to find hidden treasure and Augry (added to the Wizard spell list thanks to Tasha’s!) to know what to expect in the next dungeon... sorta. "No plan survives first contact with me."

LEVEL 16 - WIZARD 4

4th level Wizards get an Ability Score Improvement: we got all the abilities we wanted really, so why not Get Lucky? The Lucky Feat will give you a bit of anime protagonist power to guarantee that you make the perfect daring escape. Feel free to take Warcaster or just increase your Constitution however; by this point Ability Scores don’t matter too much.

You can also learn two more spells like Melf’s Acid Arrow for another Essence Flux-esque DoT ability and See Invisibility, in case you need a Sweeper Lense to deal with any clowns.

LEVEL 17 - WIZARD 5

Ima be honest I kinda just wanted third level for Thunder Step to get an Arcane Shift that does damage. Artificer 18 / Wizard 2 (or even just Artificer 20) would’ve been a fine build for Ezeal too, if you don’t think this one spell is worth a 5 level class dip.

Anyways you also learn another cantrip and I mean... you may as well take Shocking Grasp for some defense up close? You also get one other spell and I’m gonna suggest Galder’s Tower this time which is like Tiny Hut... but awesome. And really small. This is mostly just a way for me to talk about a fun spell and also recommend my homebrew fix for it.

(Artwork by Alvin Lee. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 18 - ARTIFICER 13

You got third level spells as a Wizard, you can now prepare 4th level spells as an Artificer! Fire Shield and Greater Invisibility are both available as Armorer Spells, one of which is far more useful for you than the other one. Bro imagine how crazy Evelynn would be with Evelynn’s passive. But yeah feel free to swap around your prepared spells a bit for more 4th level spells, since you definitely have the slots to do so.

LEVEL 19 - ARTIFICER 14

14th level Artificers are Magic Item Savants who can attune to 5 magic items at once, meaning that along with your boots which are technically magical but whatever you can finally be properly six-slotted! But far more importantly you can attune to any item, regardless of any class or race restrictions tied to the item!  "I can't get hauled into wizard court again. Technically I don't have a permit for the gauntlet."

Speaking of more attunement: more Infusions. An Amulet of Health will let you boost your bad Constitution from a 10 to a 19, giving you a solid 76 health boost near max level! Other than that more movement speed is never a bad thing, and Boots of Speed may give you more value than your other magic boots.

But holy shit forget all that because you finally get your 4th Artificer cantrip! Grab Mending because somehow we don’t have that yet; gotta keep your outfit in check! Oh and you can get around to preparing another 4th level spell! Truth be told though the 4th level spells for Artificer are kinda... bad? But at least Tasha’s gave us Summon Construct which is a surprisingly strong summon!

"Last time I was in Shurima, I decoded some glyphs. Something about a jackal head... End of times... The usual. All I wanted was this ruby scarab. It looks great on my mantle."

LEVEL 20 - ARTIFICER 15

Our final level is the 15th level of Artificer for the Perfected Armor Armorer capstone. When you shoot an enemy you mark them with Essence Flux, giving them disadvantage to hit you. In addition the next attack (including your own I’m pretty sure!) has Advantage against the enemy while they’re marked with  Essence Flux, and if they’re hit they’ll take an extra d6 of Lightning damage!

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Blast 'em, gauntlet! - With your capstone ability you do 4d6 + 10 damage with your Lightning Launcher, and that’s before using Sharpshooter. Even without your capstone 3d6 + 10 is still really good damage output, especially when you can cast spells for big bursts of damage.

See if you can handle this! - Speaking of spells your slots go all the way up to 7th level, and while you’ll mostly just be upcasting a 12d6 Lightning Bolt is nothing to sneeze at! Not to mention other options like a 7d8 Fire damage Heat Metal or +30 HP Aid.

If anyone asks, I didn't see any of these priceless artifacts for sale - It goes without saying that having two more attunement slots than the average character is massive, especially when you can stick infusions onto your armor to maximize the amount of treasures on your person.

CONS

I wasn't strong enough? - Investing fully in INT gives us maxed out combat stats but it leaves a lot of our other abilities lacking. We’re nowhere near Charismatic enough to sell (somewhat) illegitimately gotten gains, and while Infusions can help augment our health (and even our Strength if you grab a Belt of Giant’s Strength) your Wisdom and even your Dexterity are rather mediocre, which is bad for both skill checks and saving throws.

Impossible comebacks are sorta my specialty - Most of your coolest stuff is tied to spell slots and other Long Rest dependent mechanics, and while you have a lot of spell slots (as well as Arcane Recovery to get some of them back) they are still quite limited. You’re perfectly viable as just an auto-attack and Q spammer, but who doesn’t want to shoot lasers and explosions, ya know?

Never met a problem that I couldn't blast away with magic... that I don't even understand - 5 levels in Wizard give us big spell slots but that’s about it, and yeah a 7d6 Lightning Bolt (that won’t hit your allies) is nothing to sneeze at but for the most part you are more of a Martial character. Just saying that level 18 of Artificer would’ve given you Magic Item Master for a whole 6 attunement slots! And level 20 of Artificer would’ve given you Soul of Artifice, essentially operating as a +6 to all saving throws and a 6 time use Guardian Angel.

But if a teamfight breaks out you’re more than a capable ADC. Artificers are the masters of magic items and it doesn’t matter if you make them yourself or “borrow” them from an ancient tomb; you can be the hero mom and dad always wanted you to be! Just concentrate on your farm in the early game and don’t take unnecessary risks. You may be the perfect man of magic but you’re not immortal, despite what the ADCs I’m forced to support always seem to think.

(Artwork by Jennifer Wuesting. Made for Riot Games.)

[plaidbooks]

Hiya! Could you do one where reader and Sonny are in a relationship. The reader sees how close Sonny and Rollins are and gets jealous/feels inadequate/thinks he’s cheating? Thanks!!

Jealousy

A/N: Hey anon! I love writing angst, so this was a fun one for me! It jumps around a little, and the second half is a lot of dialogue, but I feel like communication is important in relationships. Hope you liked it!

Tags: none, just angst (and implied cheating)

Words: 2k+

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @reading--mermaid

“Hey guys, this is my girlfriend, [Y/N],” Sonny introduced you, naming all of his coworkers in turn. He was invited to post-work drinks, and he decided to bring you, too, to have you meet his coworkers. Mostly because they were his friends, his second family, but also as a safety precaution, in case anything happened to you—they’d at least know who you were now.

“Ah, this is the famous [Y/N],” the woman Sonny introduced as his partner, Detective Amanda Rollins, said, smirking. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

You smiled back. “Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you guys, too. Sonny loves you all, loves working with you.”

“Can you guys not talk about me like I’m not standing right here?” Sonny chuckled.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “It’s not our fault you gush about [Y/N] to everyone who will listen,” she gave you a welcoming smile as your cheeks warmed in embarrassment. “We are glad that you’re keeping an eye on Carisi, though. He’s a good guy.”

“Okay, if you’re going to keep talking about me, I’m gonna go grab another drink,” Sonny sighed, looking to you. “Need another, doll?”

“Please,” you grinned at him. He squeezed your hip and turned towards the bar.

“Hold up, Carisi. I’ll go with you—I need a refill, too,” Amanda said, jumping off her barstool.

“Oh, okay, sure,” Sonny replied, giving her a smirk, and they both made their way over. You watched them go, the briefest flash of jealousy shooting through you before you brushed it away. They were friends, partners even; they were close, but Sonny still came home to you. While watching them at the bar, you missed the look Olivia and Fin exchanged.

 *****a few months later*******

You were in the kitchen, cooking dinner, dancing and singing along with the soft music playing in your apartment. Sonny was getting off early tonight, and though he offered to cook, you turned him down. He’d been working so much recently, and you wanted to do something nice for him. He reluctantly agreed—it’s not that he didn’t love your cooking, but he loved cooking for you. Your music dimmed as your phone rang. Putting the spoon down and turning the burner to low, you picked up your phone, seeing Sonny’s face and ID on your screen.

“Hey, baby. You almost here?” you answered, twirling on the balls of your feet.

You heard him sigh, his voice strained. “Actually, change of plans tonight. There was an…incident at work today…I’m taking Amanda home, making sure she’s okay. You don’t mind, do you?”

Your shoulders slumped and your heart dropped, but you tried to keep your voice light, keep the disappointment out of it. “Y-yeah, sure, Son. Everything okay?”

“It’s fine…I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Right now, though, Amanda needs me. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love ya,” he replied, voice slightly muffled, as if his phone wasn’t fully against his face.

“Yeah, I love you, too.”

 *******************

A few weeks later, you dragged yourself home from work. It had been a shitty week, and today took the cake. It took all your strength to not break down and cry from the stress you were feeling. You texted Sonny, seeing if he was free to come over and cuddle; you just needed his arms around you, to feel his comforting body against yours. He said that he just had to run to the courthouse with Amanda for a warrant, then he’d be free. You put your phone on the kitchen counter, annoyed that he was with Amanda right now. You knew he was at work, and you knew they were partners, but you couldn’t stop the anger, the jealousy you felt every time her name was mentioned. It felt like he talked about her all the time, like he thought about her all the time, and you were starting to feel left out…left behind. Sighing, you poured a glass of wine and sat down hard on your couch.

Sonny knocked on your door an hour later, and you put your third wine glass down. You opened the door, and he came in, looking worried.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, pulling you into a hug.

You noticed the slight smell of perfume on him but ignored it; it wasn’t that rare that he had strange cologne or perfume on him from people he arrested. You just hugged him tighter, ignoring the pang of jealousy from the other woman’s smell.

“I’ve just had…a really bad week,” you murmured into his chest. He stroked your back with one of his hands as he rocked you gently.

“Well, I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

You smiled against him, pulling back to look at him. But your smile faded, your eyes narrowing as something pink caught your attention. “What’s this?” you asked, your voice dangerously low. Moving his unbuttoned jacket aside, you saw that the pink was lipstick, staining his shirt, right between two buttons on his chest. Your heart stopped and you felt your hands starting to shake with emotions—sadness, betrayal, and an intense rage. You didn’t wear pink lipstick.

Sonny looked down to his chest, seeing the lipstick smeared there, then looked back into your face that was slowly transforming into furiousness. “Now wait a moment, [Y/N]. It’s not what it looks like,” he started, raising his hands in defense.

“Not what it looks like?” you yelled. “Then what is it, because it looks like fucking lipstick to me!” An image of Amanda, opening Sonny’s shirt, her lips on his chest flashed in your mind, and you saw red.

You took a step towards him, and he retreated. “I-it is, but it…it was an accident—”

“An accident?” You started breathing heavily, tears threatening to fall. Your mind was turning rapidly as you struggled to make sense of this. “Are…have you been sleeping with that fucking partner of yours?” It all made sense, why he ditched you for her, why he talked about her all the time.

Sonny’s eyes went wide. “What? No! Of course not! How could you even think that?” Now he was raising his voice incredulously, annoyed that you could even imply that he was cheating on you.

“Get out,” you whispered. Sonny went quiet and you stared at each other. “I said get out!” you screamed. You advanced once more, and Sonny backed away, crestfallen. He looked on the verge of tears, but you couldn’t make yourself care, not after he hurt you like this. Not after he fucking cheated on you, with that fucking detective.

Sonny stopped on the doorstep, turning towards you. “I would never—”

You slammed the door in his face, throwing the lock. You broke then, the tears spilling over, your heart breaking. You collapsed onto the couch, crying until there was nothing left.

 *******************

It had been a week since you kicked Sonny out of your apartment, and the wound was still fresh. He sent you a text the following morning, asking to talk things out, but you ignored him, not responding, and he got the message loud and clear. You still cried every night, wondering how you could be so damn stupid. You remembered when Sonny had thought Tommy was cheating on his baby sister, how pissed he was. It was crazy how people got so defensive, enough so that they attacked people just like them.

You heard a knock on the door, and you dragged yourself to it, looking through the peephole. Confused, you unlocked the door, opening it. “Lieutenant Benson? Everything okay?” you asked the woman standing there.

She gave you that same warm smile she gave when you first met. “Hey, [Y/N], I just wanted to stop by, see how you were doing. May I come in?”

“O-of course,” you replied, moving out of her way. She entered your apartment, looking around appreciatively. Regaining your composure, you asked dully, “did Sonny send you?”

Olivia glanced to you. “No, he didn’t. But I guess I am here on his behalf. He’s worried about you.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “He didn’t seem worried about me when he broke my heart.”

“I heard about that. Another reason why I’m here. I wanted to explain how…close partners can get, in our line of work,” Olivia started. She moved to your couch, sitting down gently. You sat down on the other side.

“Look, I know that there some kind of bond there, some deep ties, but that doesn’t excuse—”

“Carisi didn’t cheat on you, [Y/N],” Olivia cut you off. “Especially not with Rollins.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How do you know? There was lipstick on his shirt, and he talks about her all the time, goes to her place at the drop of a hat! A month ago, I tried to make him dinner, and he ditched me to take her home. He promised to tell me what happened, but then just brushed it off like nothing happened!”

Olivia sat in silence while you ranted at her. Once finished, she said calmly, “a month ago, Rollins was taken hostage. She had a gun to her face and was almost killed. I told Carisi to take her home, to make sure she was okay. You know him. He has a bleeding heart; he was a wreck the whole time. It’s not shocking that he wouldn’t want to talk about it.” She let that sink in for a moment before she continued, “and the lipstick on his shirt was from me. We were trying to locate a suspect, and I was pushed from behind into Carisi’s chest. In the moment, we never noticed that my lipstick had rubbed off on him, and for that, I deeply apologize.”

You sat there, dumbfounded. “B-but that doesn’t mean they aren’t sleeping together,” you whispered, your voice weak. You knew already that you had been wrong, but you were clinging to the hope that you didn’t just throw away the best thing you had for no reason.

Olivia sighed. “I met Rollins’ boyfriend a few weeks ago; unless two of my best detectives are somehow both cheating in a department full of sex crimes cops, I think it’s safe to say that this was a huge misunderstanding.”

Tears filled your eyes, and you buried your face in your hands. “I’m a fucking idiot,” you murmured. “How could I believe Sonny was cheating on me so easily? How could I have kicked him out? I-I should’ve listened to him, talked to him—”

“You still can. And I recommend doing it soon. He’s been lost since all this happened,” Olivia gave you a soft smile, placing her hand on your knee. “You can still fix this.”

You nodded. “I’m going to call him right now…unless he’s at work?”

“Oh no, I’ve given him the night off. I can give you a ride to his place, if you’d like,” she said, standing.

“Please.”

 **********************

You didn’t bother changing before Olivia dropped you off at Sonny’s apartment. You were in an oversized tshirt, and leggings, but you didn’t care; you just needed to see him. You knocked on his door and heard shuffling before it uplocked, opening. Sonny stood in the doorframe looking haggard; he had a light stubble you’d never seen before, his blue eyes dim though wide at seeing you, his shoulders slumped, his hair loose and hanging in his eyes.

“[Y/N]?” he breathed out, his voice ragged.

You gave him a small smile. “Hey, Dom…can we talk, please?”

He nodded, gesturing you in. You moved past him, entering the familiar place, your heart in your throat. You stood awkwardly in his hallway, unable to make yourself move any further inside. Standing there, face to face with Sonny, you couldn’t think of where to start.

“Sonny…I’m-I’m so sorry—” you started before he cut you off.

“How could you even think I cheated on you?” Sonny asked, voice hard.

Tears instantly sprung up in your eyes. “I-I don’t know…I was…I was jealous with the attention you were giving Amanda. And then the lipstick—”

“Jealous?” His voice was venomous, and his eyes narrowed. He glared at you for a moment, and your shrunk into yourself, feeling like such an idiot for thinking he could cheat on you, for being jealous—

Just as quickly as his rage came, it was gone, fading from him like air escaping a balloon. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to yell. It’s just…I’d never cheat on you, hurt you like that—”

“I know, Dom. I’m sorry I overreacted. I just…that lipstick had me seeing red…and it had been a bad day, a bad week. That’s not an excuse. I was stupid, and I lost you, the best thing that had ever happened to me—”

Sonny took your hand in his, his eyes locking to yours. You both fell silent, and Sonny tugged you into the living room, pulling you onto the couch next to him. He sighed heavily, rubbing his face with his hands.

“I love you, [Y/N]. Really, I do. But this is going to take time to work though. We can’t just go back to normal…but if you’re willing to sit here, to talk to me about it, then I am, too,” he said.

You nodded, sniffling. “I want that, Dominick, more than anything. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back. I…I fucked up, and I’m sorry. I’ll never stop saying I’m sorry.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Come here,” Sonny held his arms open and you crawled into his lap, cuddling into his chest. “I understand why you…came to that conclusion…. I understand how we got here. I may not be happy about it, but I get it, okay? And you have a point; I do bring work home with me too much.”

You sat back to look at him. “I don’t want you to not talk about work with me, Son. I…like that you can talk to me, that I can help you vent. I know that Amanda is your partner, and that she’s with you all day every day. I’m going to work on my jealousy, I promise you, okay? This will never happen again.”

“And I believe you. I…I’ve been jealous, too. When we go out, and I see men stare at you, I have half a mind to tell them off. As long as we’re…open with each other, as long as we have trust, we’ll be okay.” Sonny pulled you back to him, kissing your forehead gently, his stubble tickling your skin.

“I love you, Dom.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered against you.

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Love In Sin

Chapter 8

Summary - Special Agent Winchester is forced to go undercover with his frenemy Special Agent L/N when they try to track down a notorious drug dealer. How will Y/N and Dean complete their task? Will their relationship worsen or will new feelings emerge between them?

Pairing - AU Detective!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count - 1.5k

Series Warnings - Angst, Slow burn, Fluff, Implied Smut, Mentions of crime and drug, Swearing.

Chapter Warnings - Swearing, mentions of drug and prison

A/N - Sorry for the delay, guys. Thanks for being patient with me and thanks for all the feedback on the previous chapters!

Thanks to @deanwanddamons for beta'ing this (she is an absolute sweetheart)

Divider by @talesmaniac89 (do check her blog out, she is an excellent writer and does amazing edits)

Series Masterlist

You stared at the group of police officers standing outside your house, shock evident on your face.

“That can't be-what..there has to be a mistake,” you finally managed to croak.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Campbell, I don't think there has been any mistake.” The officer smirked and waved at one of his colleagues.

“There has to be a proof as to why you are arresting us,” Dean said firmly.

“I am very sure that we will have proof,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, “we have a warrant to search this place.”

“You can't just-”

“Mrs. Campbell.Did you organise a party yesterday at your house? We got information that suspicious activities were noticed during that party,” the cop said.

“Yeah we had a party, but we invited only our neighbours. That's not-”

“Mr. Campbell, I am asking you for the last time to let us do our job. If we find everything is normal, we will leave and apologise for the inconvenience caused, but we have a search warrant,” the cop said, once again waving the piece of paper, “ and there nothing unlawful about searching your house. Now, I would advise you to stand outside the house so as to not interfere with our operation.”

You nodded when you saw there was no other way to stop the cops. Two other officers guided you both outside the house and stood in close proximity, guarding you since you had acted in a not so friendly manner.

Dean stood beside you, his jaw set and his eyes cast downwards.

“What're ya thinking?” You whispered.

He looked up at you, his eyebrows knitted together, a deep frown etched on his face.

“Thinking about the case,” he replied shortly.

“I need to know more than that, Dean,” you huffed.

“What can I say? We are screwed!” he said, “even if Officer “I-have-a-search-warrant” doesn't find any drugs, our cover is blown, Y/N.”

“You two have a lot of answering to do,” the cop stepped out of your house with a plastic bag in his hands. Your jaw hit the ground. You noticed Dean was mirroring your actions. How did those drugs get into your house?

“We don't-”

“Save your answers for the court. Arrest them,” the officer ordered.

Immediately two cops came forward and started to put handcuffs on you both. Your mind was still reeling over what just happened. You barely acknowledged it when the cops shoved you into their car. You were still trying to process everything, trying to remember every tiny thing that happened in that party.

“Hey officer, can I ask you a question?” Dean asked.

“No.” The deep baritone of the officer resounded throughout the car.

“Okay.” Dean remarked and puckered his lips, thinking a little.

“Who was it that called you?” Dean asked again.

“I can't, or rather won't tell you,” the cop warned, “now shut your damn mouth.”

“No need to be rude, I thought we were vibing,” Dean said.

“What are you doing?” You whispered.

“Just being friendly,” he shrugged at you. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath. You were already under so much pressure, and Dean wasn't making it any easier for you.

The police car came to a stop and the door on your side opened abruptly.

“Come out you two,” the cop barked out orders and you stepped out of the car, your hands still in cuffs but Dean was taking his sweet time to get out of the car. You rolled your eyes at his cockiness. The cop tapped his foot impatiently. Huffing, he reached out and grabbed Dean's arms, pulling him out of the car.

“Hey, hey no need to manhandle. This is a precious cargo, baby,” Dean smirked. You wanted to reach over and smack him on the head.

The cops shoved you into a cell. At least they put you together in one prison and told you that you get one phone call.

“So we don't exactly have a lawyer. I think we should call Mr. Singer,” you said, Dean nodding his head in agreement.

“You both are kidding me right? You want to make a call to one of the top tiers in the Bureau?” The cop laughed after you told him to whom you wanted to make a call.

“Yes.” You firmly stated

“Huh,” he had a mocking smile on his face, “shouldn't you call your lawyer? You really think that this federal agent can save you?”

“Yes because we are feds too. We were undercover on a mission and it was going really well until you arrested us and walked all over it,” Dean said in a hard tone.

“You expect me to believe you?” The cop had a smug smile on his face, “I have heard a lot of alibis but this one stands out - really original. Anyways, phone's yours. You get one phone call so I can't really refuse.”

You hurriedly dialed Bobby Singer's number and waited for it to ring.

“I hate him,” Dean exclaimed, “he is one cocky son of a bitch.”

“So kinda like you,” you said as a matter of fact. “Mr. Singer, it's Special Agent Y/L/N speaking,” you said into the phone when Bobby answered. Dean kept staring at you with a frown on his face, trying to read through the conversation you were having with Singer.

“Our phones have been confiscated….we got arrested..no! They found class A drugs with us….in the house….we don't know exactly, it can be possible….okay….both of us….sure, Sir,” you hung up the phone call after telling him the address of the police station you both were being kept.

“I see your phone call is done,” the cop said and guided you both towards your cell, “let's see if your federal agent shows up.”

“This is the worst thing to ever happen.” You exclaimed and started pacing around the small space inside the jail.

“You gotta stop pacing, sweetheart. We will figure it out,” Dean said.

“Really Dean? What is your plan?” You asked but he didn't say anything, “Exactly, we don't have a plan.”

“I am working on it,” he argued back.

“Hey you two, this is not a place for a couple’s fight. Save it for when you get out of here,” the cop guarding your prison cell warned.

“Yeah right. We’ll save it for when we get out of this shithole,” Dean turned towards you, “I promise we will get out of this mess.”

The next few hours were spent trying to figure out any possible way to prove yourselves innocent, but you both came up with zero ideas.

“So I guess we are back to square one, Y/L/N,” Dean said and leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes.

“I am telling you Winchester, there is no way we are getting out of this. They caught us red handed for God's sake!” you exclaimed.

“No one's perfect. Neither is this person. There has to be a loose end and we have to find that,” he said, stretching his hands.

“What did you two idjits do?” Bobby Singer grumbled as he walked towards the prison cell accompanied by a cop. The latter started opening up the gate of the prison and went to get rid of your handcuffs.

“Ah it feels so good to finally be able to use your hands,” Dean said, “and no we didn't do anything. We were set up. This is all a set up.”

“I bailed you out,” you let out a sigh of relief at the words of your boss, “for now. We need to prove you both not guilty within one week. The court date is next week.” You both stepped out of the cell and started walking towards the main door.

“Well we only need to gather evidence and I am sure the bureau will-”

“No they won't. You are both suspended.” Bobby said and guided you towards the car.

“What?” You and Dean exclaimed together.

“The police caught you red handed. The bureau, no matter how good you are as a detective, they are not willing to keep you as agents anymore,” Bobby said, opening the door of the car.

“So what do we do now? We have no evidence, no resources,” you said.

“I know, but I will help you two to get out of this shit. I put you both in this situation, but first we are going back to the house. You will collect your belongings and we are getting out of Kansas,” Bobby said and started to drive the car back towards your house.

Let me know if you all want to tagged in this!

Feedback is highly appreciated!

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Horikoshi: This will probably not be super popular, but it’ll be fun!

Us: Oh, well that sounds nice!

Us, 290 chapters later: This Isn’t Fun Anymore Horikoshi

Horikoshi: :)

Anyways, welcome to the beginning of - hopefully - a long term and engaging project. I am basically aware of all of canon, and am up to date with the manga, but I haven’t actually read from the beginning of the series, and I’ve only watched the series up to the Deku v Todo fight in the sports festival. However, I’ve been curious as to how the manga portrays stuff that I’ve seen in anime gif form, and so I figured, hey, make this a project!

If you have questions or anything, the ask box is open for now. Meanwhile, I am going to head into the first chapter proper!

[No. 1 - Izuku Midoriya: Origin]

Wow, you’d almost think this kid would grow up to be a villain or something, with that kind of attitude, huh? No way that this kind of attitude would ever come to bite him in the ass and force him to reevaluate his entire character and kickstart his character development.

(Before you say anything, I like Katsuki as a character, but DAMN did he have to do a lot of growing up. I suppose when one is at the bottom, the only way to go is up… unless you have a pickaxe.)

One thing I actually noticed right away, and I dunno how much it’s used in other manga (seeing as I currently am not reading any other manga and the last ones I read were… a long while ago…) is the shape of the text boxes in order to convey emotion! It’s actually hella neat and a little detail I wouldn’t think about adding if I were in his position (not that I can draw all that well, but that’s not my point). You can practically hear the warbling in Izuku’s tone and the rougher edges in Katsuki’s!

(Also, question for the English sub while we’re at it, why the fuck does Katsuki sound like he’s a goddamned adult when he’s fourteen. What the fuck.)

Interesting little thing here, Katsuki not actually using his quirk here against Izuku; his hand is trailing smoke from his explosion, but it’s not a direct burn wound. Not that he should be doing this at all, but with the number of fics I see where Katsuki literally gives Izuku second or third degree burns, I think this is a reminder that canon Katsuki has some modicum of restraint, even this early.

Before I forget, hello winged kid who definitely has no plot significance whatsoever. No siree.

(If you are new to the manga/show and are reading this as among your first introductions to the fandom, first off, I am so sorry. Secondly, expect me to be… definitely making a lot of sarcastic quips to things in the future.)

Onto the second/third page, which is supposed to be a full spread, but is split up into two pages on the online reading site. RIP, but I will not complain about free access to the whole manga. 

Lookit this green bean. I love him so much. I can’t wait for him to suffer.

Izuku: wait, what?

Anyways, a few things to note:

Who the fuck is this guy? I looked into the wiki but he apparently doesn’t warrant a page or even a mention as one of the background faces of the series, but look at that fucking claw, man! And those boots and jets! He’s very obviously themed after a baseball catcher, so I’m going to guess that he has some kind of quirk that deals with either drawing projectiles to him, or perhaps in throwing projectiles… in either case, it’d be something like Snipe’s quirk, so maybe this is his less howdy-happy sibling.

Oh right, the chapter. The other heroes we see on the scene in this two-page spread are Death Arms, Air Jet, and Kamui Woods. 

Also, something I want to point out that I’m sure others have but just struck me while looking at this spread - multiple people are recording / taking pictures of this. I wonder if part of the reason for the villain industry to be as strong as it is is because the villains, even if they know they’ll lose, still get their own sort of fame in being in the news? That… might explain a lot about how there can be enough villains to even run an entire damn industry.

(Well, that and a lot of sociopolitical commentary on BNHA society, but we don’t need to get into that now. Maybe wait two hundred or so chapters first.)

Not gonna lie, I had to double take because I was like ‘wait, what is Ochako doing here?’ but then I realized it was just a random civilian; she doesn’t have those side bangs Ochako does. But now I almost wonder what sort of world we could have had, if they’d met a bit earlier.

Onto the fifth page (fourth is just a filler page, nothing on it), and we get treated to this gem:

Tag yourself I’m the guy who’s slackjawed because his kid is fucking glowing.

The first four examples of quirks shown in this flashback are the luminescence, telekinesis, ice, and that flame-headed(?) mutation. Of them, we actually see hints to the fact that quirks have drawbacks, as the girl with ice is drawn with the same frostbite backlash as Shouto, while the flame-headed kid is… well, I have no idea, but they do not look to be happy.

Also, I love the nod Hori does to the heroes of our era as silhouettes! This is just more evidence to me, along with the fact that the first quirked kid is born and presented in a modern hospital, that this series takes place sometime in the future. I… even calculated the years it could technically be, based on information we get in a few chapters, but I’ll save that for then.

Onto the sixth page! A nice shot of Kamui Woods getting into position, and man is that giant quirk unnerving.

What the fuck is with those feet, Hori. Those aren’t feet.

Next we see how the crowds are reacting, basically with no panic or concern. One guy is just casually letting his boss know he’ll be getting in late. And Backdraft! That is some serious water manipulation, but it seems like it has to be the water they’re in contact with? Also, is it just me or is that a portable pressure hose on their back?

And of course, Izuku being excited over hero stuff, as one does. He’s so babey faced, going back to current chapters after this is gonna be fucking wild.

Onto the seventh page, and here we are with the ‘you’re pure evil’ speech to someone who’s… just a robber. Seriously, dude? I get that you’re still fairly new to the scene (I think he might not be from a hero high school, but a late join program, but that’s another post), but like. You can’t just call random people ‘pure evil’ and correlate petty crime with like, actual mass murderers, or else people might start to see things in black and white and, you know, create the idea of ‘villainous people’ and so push even more innocents down the path of desperation and criminality.

Wait, sociopolitics later. Izuku being a hero fanboy now. Even able to utter Kamui’s attack call as he’s calling it out, with some seriously cool visual effects-

And on the eighth page, we have Mt. Lady crash the scene. Literally. She just fucking shows up outta nowhere and fucking leaps up and delivers a kick right to the villain’s chin, throwing him back through the train bridge wall and sending debris down to the ground below. Sure hope there weren’t civilians there!

Also, hello to that random guy on the roof watching this. I think in Smash they made that guy her manager or something.

I love how Izuku and the other guy are like ‘what the fuck’ while the press just shows up out of nowhere and is like. Hyperfocused on her. (I’ve heard some issues with the portrayal of media/reporters in the series, but since I have no experience with that sort of thing, I can’t say much on it.)

The last panel of this page shows that, fortunately, there were no civilians on that part of the street (even though it being rush hour and the huge crowds on the other side of the bridge should have suggested otherwise… but what do I know?)

With page nine, we get to see our first case of villain apprehension, which to note does not include any sort of quirk suppressors. Because those don’t exist. Otherwise Aizawa and the Eight Precepts’ erasure bullets would not be such huge deals to everyone. I mean yikes, though, the guy is fucking muzzled. And you can see the damage done by Mt. Lady in the background, both physical and emotional. Not to mention…

What the fuck is that face.

But yeah, this notes that performance in heroics determines not only what they’re paid by the government, but also how much fame they get. No way a system like this could backfire in any capacity, right? Right? (cough).

I love how Hori uses Izuku’s muttering habit as the border for the text bubble when the kid zones into his little world. Also, gigantification is noted to be a common and strong quirk, so we really should see more OCs with size altering quirks in fics in the future, you hear me? Honestly, with it being common, I would almost expect there to be entire buildings, or maybe even neighborhoods / blocks dedicated to catering to size shifters… wonder what those places look like.

Also aww, the guy saying good luck on the heroics dream to Izuku and Izuku just sparkling. What a cutie. Can’t wait for him to suffer. :D

Izuku: No seriously, what-

Anyways, I’m cutting off here since we then transition into the next ‘scene’ and this is a long chapter - 55 pages! Besides, this has already surpassed 1700 words, I don’t need to ramble on too long in one post. 

Lemme know what you think, and I’ll be back with more soon!

[maybankiara]

PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)

15: ALCOHOLISM IN HOLLYWOOD

summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead.

w/c: 500

a/n: ok so this is a couple of hours late bc i forgot about it (oops)

read on wattpad

previous part | series masterlist

Me | 5:19pm Does Patty need these papers today or can we just give them to her tomorrow?

Holden Bradfield | 5:21pm Today Holden Bradfield | 5:21pm But if we finish them before she comes to work we can chuck it on her desk and hope for the best ahahah

Me | 5:22pm Oh fuck I forgot she’s in on Sundays 😭 Me | 5:22pm Rip Me | 5:23pm How bad is the punishment if she doesn’t get it on time

Holden Bradfield | 5:24pm ...I’ve heard rumours of a cauldron and green smoke and sizzling Holden Bradfield | 5:25pm Are you sure you won’t manage to finish it today? Holden Bradfield | 5:26pm I’ll cover for you dw

Me | 5:28pm NO!!! Me | 5:28pm I’ll just take the blame on myself Me | 5:28pm You’ve got that other case to do

Holden Bradfield | 5:31pm It’s fine hahaha Harrington won’t eat me alive if I’m a day late

Me | 5:32pm No I don’t want you to be late bc of me Me | 5:32pm I’ll try to get my essay done, I ended up meeting a friend today and I’m so fucking behind rn

Holden Bradfield | 5:34pm You just work on your essay Holden Bradfield | 5:34pm You’re the one out of the two of us doing a full-time Master’s and a full-time job!! Holden Bradfield | 5:35pm I’ll finish up with our case and then you can pay me off next weekend, yeah?

Me | 5:38pm Are you sure you’re okay with that?

Holden Bradfield | 5:39pm You know Patty has a soft spot for me 😉

Me | 5:40pm No comment 😂 Me | 5:44pm Ok so I definitely won’t be able to finish the case today Me | 5:45pm I’ll buy you a bigass candy cane or that fluffy sweet thing that melts on your tongue Me | 5:56pm Just to see it all over your face again 😂

Holden Bradfield | 6:01pm That honest to god sounds like heaven!! Holden Bradfield | 6:02pm Although, I’d say this warrants more than just that...

Me | 6:04pm You’re saving my ass from being burnt in a witch’s cauldron. Name your price big boy 😂

Holden Bradfield | 6:02pm Let me take you out for dinner Holden Bradfield | 6:02pm Just the two of us, whenever you’re available

Me | 6:06pm Does Saturday work?

Holden Bradfield | 6:07pm You’re gonna keep me waiting a whole week? 😯

Me | 6:08pm In between work, classes, studying, and prescheduled plans, you’re lucky it’s just a week 😂

Holden Bradfield | 5:09pm Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth I guess hahah Holden Bradfield | 5:10pm 7pm?

Me | 5:10pm Probably, but I’ll have to let you know on the day 😊

Holden Bradfield | 5:11pm It’s a date, then!

◇

Me | 7:48pm Drewdrew Me | 7:48pm How’s LA?

Drew | 8:22pm Hot as always Drew | 8:22pm Come think of it, I’m pretty sure underneath hell there’s LA Drew | 8:23pm So I meant hell under LA but hey same shit!!

Me | 8:25pm Lol both are probably true

Drew | 8:26pm Yeah I wouldn’t be surprised 😂 Drew | 8:26pm How’s Atlanta? Drew | 8:27pm I can’t believe it’s Wednesday already

Me | 8:27pm Boring as fuck honestly Me | 8:28pm I’ve been focusing on my studies for a bit and I’ve barely left the house, Marianne wants to crucify me lol

Drew | 8:31pm Hey at least you’re not roommates with Austin Drew | 8:32PM I love the guy but we never get anything done when we’re together 😂

Me | 8:33pm Oh Marianne and I are the same Me | 8:33pm That’s why we came up with the rule of not spending a lot of time if we’ve got things to do hahaha

Drew | 8:35pm That’s smart Drew | 8:35pm Hanging out with Austin makes me lazy and it only gets worse when the others come over Drew | 8:36pm All we do is drink 😂

Me | 8:37pm Well that sounds like your dream job!! Me | 8:37pm Mr. White Claw Basic Bitch must enjoy himself!!

Drew | 8:38pm Addie............ Drew | 8:38pm I don’t drink ONLY white Claw

Me | 8:39pm Mhm Me | 8:39pm hey at least WC hangovers aren’t that bad!!! Me | 8:40pm I mean if babies can drink WC then so can you

Drew | 8:40pm you WISH you could drink as much as I do

Me | 8:42pm oh no tyvm Me | 8:42pm I drink just enough 😌✌ Me | 8:42pm my hangovers are !! nonexistent!! except that time we met lmao

Drew | 8:43pm you were hungover?? Drew | 8:43pm Couldn’t tell 😂 Drew | 8:43pm you should always drink in the morning and hangovers are bye bye

Me | 8:44pm Marianne’s been trying to get me to do it forever Me | 8:45pm But now at least I got a topic for my next essay

Drew | 8:45pm how to cure hangovers?

Me | 8:46pm Close enough! Me | 8:46pm Alcoholism in hollywood 🥰

Drew | 8:45pm Hmmm sure sure Drew | 8:45pm How does that relate to either politics or economics? 🤔

Me | 8:46pm I’ll figure it out Me | 8:46pm Just you watch

Drew | 8:47pm Sure Drew | 8:47pm 👀

Me | 8:48pm 😂😂

◇

16: A LITTLE BIRDIE

tagging. @jjmaybanksbaby​​​​​​​​ @taiter-tots​​​​​​​​ @sacredto​​​​​​​​ @snkkat​​​​​​​​ @drewswannabegirl​​​​​​​​ @yeslifeofateen​​​​​​​​ @rudypnkw​​​​​​​​ @stfukie​​​​​​​​ @x-lulu​​​​​​​​ ​​​​​ @drewstarkey​​​​​​​​ @butgilinsky​​​​​​​​ @solllaris​​​​​​​​ @hyperactive2411​​​​​​​​ @chasefreakinstokes​​​​​​​​ @surferkie​​​​​​​​ @jroseron​​​​​​​​ @k-k0129​​​​​​​​ @starlightstories​​