#now this is an imaginary argument in my mind

[lamemaster]

Ooooh that burn 🔥 (I'm dead and now a ghost with him) A well deserved reminder that I can't win against the fire elf. YET

Dear Feanor,

Whilst you were sitting🧍🏻‍♀️🪑 around in the hall of Mandos, waiting⏱️, doing NISH0️⃣, I was out making moves 🏋🏻‍♀️(on your wife💪🏻).

So remain thee gone🏃🏻‍➡️ from my gate🪟, thou jail-crow of Mandos🐦‍⬛!

Tossing the letter aside, his eyes flared, and his lips curled into a dangerous smirk. The ghost of a laugh escaped him, sharp and biting. “Moves?” he scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’d need a smith’s tools and a thousand years to craft a move worthy of her notice.” He leaned back, arms crossed, the fire of his spirit undiminished. “Stay smug behind your gate—while you can. It won’t hold forever.”

[velvrei]

Imagine Mike and reader are fighting the reader leaves which xause mike to start to loose his mind but Abby makes it her mission to get mike and reader back together.

this was originally a blurb but it got too long so i made it a fic!!

…

jokes aren’t funny

pairing : mike schmidt x reader

summary : mike and reader are in a relationship & they get into a fight and later into a rough patch. abby makes it her mission to get them back to being happy together.

warnings : fluff, slight angst (little sad parts), swearing

word count : 1k+

story under cut to avoid long scrolling!

you and abby were very alike. the two of you had similar thought processes, the same imaginary friends, you both liked to dance, that’s why it was perfect for her when you and mike started dating. she finally felt like someone understood her in a way only girls could.

so, you and abby formed a friendship. you’d play together, you’d babysit her while mike was at work, and it was going great. up until mike’s work schedule started to affect his mood and the time both of you spent together. him taking the nightshift made it difficult for you to spend any time together.

so, one day when mike came home, and abby was supposed to be sleeping, you had a talk to him about it. that talk, however, quickly turned into an argument.

“i don’t understand what the problem is?” mike reasoned, louder than intended. when his volume increased, so did yours, and now you both were practically screaming at each other, which was the first time you’d ever done so.

you sighed and rolled your eyes, “because you’re not trying to understand? maybe if you looked from my perspective you’d realize how horrible it is for me to talk to your little sister more than i talk to you! i love abby dearly but i need quality time with you too, mike! i’m your girlfriend!”

mike rolled his eyes, trying to keep them open sense he had no sleep for the past 20 hours and was extremely grumpy.

“i’m sure you can survive without seeing me, y/n! i know i can. i don’t need to see you everyday to function properly!” mike said, somewhat shouting then dramatically letting his head fall onto the dinning room table.

“am i just some kind of joke to you, mike?” you asked, your eyes starting to fill with tears. it didn’t matter that you were about to start your period, you still felt betrayed and felt like mike didn’t care about you as much as you did for him.

“now where the hell did you get that from?” mike shouted, “i never said that!” his voice was filled with anger and your words couldn’t help but grow his annoyance.

“that’s what it feels like, that’s what you’re implying.” you said, before grabbing your coat off the couch. “let me know when you’re ready to treat me like your girlfriend. until then, i don’t know if i can be anymore.” your last words made him stand, as you left and slammed the door behind you.

mike swore loudly and sunk onto the couch, rubbing his hair with his hands in a stressed manner, not noticing the little girl peaking around the door frame of her room. “mike?” he heard her little voice and broke down into tears.

“what?” he said, mid sob, not wanting her to see him the way he was. abby walked out from her room, wrapped up in one of her blankets. she walked over to mike, unwrapped it, and placed it over him.

“where did y/n just go?” she asked, “and why were you guys yelling like mom and dad?” those words made him break down, he started sobbing, and it made him realize that he wouldn’t lose you that easily. he physically couldn’t.

abby could tell he didn’t want to lose you that easily, so she helped him come up with a plan. until that plan was executed, however, mike couldn’t sleep for days, and when he did, his dreams were all about you. marrying you,

it had been about 4 days after your arguments. no contact, no texts on your part. however, mike wasn’t expecting otherwise, because of your last words you said to him, so he had to make the move, the ball was in his court.

so, with abby at his side, he texted you.

y/n, i’m so sorry for everything. can you come over so we can talk in person?

and so you came over, and he apologized to you. and said that his job at the nightshift was over, because he chose you, over his job. and the fact that the building collapsed but that takes away the sentimental value.

and abby was happy, because she was able to help get the both of you together.

[saeun]

let me in ( please ) manjiro, ran.

sum. when they fuck up & now are locked out of the house

mikey and emotions do not mix well. they're like oil and water. mikey is a victim to various emotions he has no knowledge on how to handle. you can think of him as a baby who has no idea how to express different emotions so they start crying. and just like that, he said his piece of rather colorful words and left before it got worse.

it takes nothing but a simple stroll around the area and some icecream bars to cool mikey's head. during his little freedom, he did some intense self-reflection and replayed the argument to analyze. three minutes of sitting on the park's bench and he came to the conclusion that he was in fact wrong. he one hundred percent overreacted.

all for his own defense, he thinks that it can be justified. crossing his arms over his chest, mikey nods in agreement to the imaginary audience. they too agree that it can be justified! even if it was but a stupid moment of him letting his negativity roam in his mind and became insecure.

mikey walks towards the door, crunching every leaf in the way to calm his nerves. he's spent at least twenty minutes practicing his apology speech. he cannot afford to butcher it. gripping on the door's knob, he tries to unlock it but to no avail, it did not work. this cannot be real, he amuses himself. mikey gives it another try. maybe it was just a jam in the knob? no. he gave it two more restless twists but god's grace was not on his side today.

“where is my phone?!” he's confused. he swore he shoved his phone into his pocket but it's not there!? patting his torso and sweatpants to feel for phone's frame, panic's tide rises in his body. he's half a second away from running into the middle of the road.

and on your side, you're watching this go down through the door's peephole. right now you may or may not be holding the very phone he's looking for in your hand. trust, you would grant him access to your shared home but this is too hilarious to give up.

the click of the door's lock on your side succeeds in getting mikey's attention. he watches like a hawk marking its prey's home, waiting to see if what he wants is behind the other side. biting at his lower lip's skin, mikey patiently awaits for you to come into display.

you swing the door open and lean on its frame. swaying his phone in front of him, you tease, “looking for this?”

mikey, relieved, tries to grab what's rightfully his but fails. there's no way you're going to give him this so soon.

“not so fast, manjiro. aren't you forgetting something?”

mikey takes three cartoonish blinks. he genuinely does not know what he forgot. tilting his head to the side, he looks around trying to remember what he could've possibly forgotten. oh right, the apology!

“'m really sorry. forgive me i know i acted like an idiot.” he speaks. mikey hopes you can tell he's being sincere. he's not one for apologies at all—which is easily known by his body language. he's rocking back and forth on his feet while playing with his fingers—almost replica to a child getting scolded for eating all the chocolates.

you try your hardest to not cackle. being able to witness the ‘invincible’ mikey awkwardly apologize feels like a gift from your ancestors. it may as well replace the definition of neuron activity.

“you're lucky i love you. come in.” tilting your head, you gesture for him to enter paradise. you didn't miss the way he clasped his fist whispering a “yes!” to himself. you really do love this loser.

pop-up quiz: if you lock ran out the house, would he:

a) go buy gifts to appease you.

b) demand that you open the door.

c) fight the tears and travel to rindou's to clear his mind.

d) none of the above.

correct answer? d) none of the above. see, if you dare to think you can get rid of ran you are just loud and wrong. you can't rip ran off of your skin even if you got the creator of earth to do it. he's like a flee.

he's a little on the lazy side which results in him barely caring for anything which also results in his nonchalant attitude in arguments. what happens when he just says to calm down? getting locked out until further notice. do not let this fool you, ran will, by any means necessary, make sure that you're not mad at him—even if he must guilt you in the process. ran can live alone but he's grown too attached to let you slip through his fingers.

like the fool he is, ran came up with the master idea of staying in the courtyard as he sets up his scheme. he has a plan, he just needs a platform. feeling mischievous, ran waited until four in the evening to begin his performance. dailing your number, he waits for you to pick up. the moment you do, he reads the script written on his palm.

“hey...still mad at me?” “yes. goodbye.” “WAIT—i'm sorry, unlock the door please?”

a moment of silence alongside a heavy sigh from you tells ran that chapter one: act one was successful. reeling out the hose, he quickly attaches it to the pipe before turning it on. taking large steps to the front door, he hides the hose behind the door as you open it.

“missed you. i'm shivering, would let me in?” coating his words with honey, he plasters a pleading look on his face. surely this would work..right..? yeah, no. you feel your anger bubbling again. for what and why would he bother you with this nonsense.

“what the fuck are you talking about? the sun is very much there.” you point towards the sun, completely finished with this idiocy.

“no, baby...it's not...” raising the hand that's holding the hose, ran turns the sprinkler effect on as he frowns. him suffering out in the real (fake) rain must hurt you. you know how he easily gets sick.

well, that's what he thinks. you think this is absolutely stupid. the scenario of ran, standing under the hose as it soaks him while the sun has yet to set truly makes for a good spongebob episode.

“ran, put it off. now.” demanding that he finishes his act, you publically judge him. although this is so stupid that it's hilarious, you don't want him to flood out the entire front yard. he's done enough to be let in the house.

“but do you forgive me, my love?” “RAN.”

ran chuckles to himself. chapter two: act two has been successful. dragging the hose back to its original position, he cleans up before entering your home but ran still feels mischievous. so what does he do? purposefully give you a tight back hug so that you can be soaked too but masks it with the excuse of “i really missed you.”

when ran isn't practically decomposing in bed, he's the most childish man ever.

[lovelynim]

Reasonable funding

Honkai: Star Rail - Yanqing & Jing Yuan

A/N: Happy birthday @otomiyaa!!! I'm not really sure if this will be a good gift, but I know you've been feeling in the HSR mood lately so... I hope you like this! ~

Wish you the very best and many, many years!

Summary: Yanqing tries to convince the general to fund him another a new sword.

Word count: 1752 words

“General, I’d like to ask for- no, that’s not going to work,” Yanqing groaned, walking from one side of the room to the other. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest, his foot tapping at the wooden floor while he tried to come up with a better phrasing for his… request.

It wasn’t like it was unreasonable or absurd, Yanqing thought to himself, of course not. He just needed to find the right arguments, but Jing Yuan would understand him. Or so he hoped.

The young swordsman sighed, going through the little script he quickly made up in his mind again. “ahem, general, I want to ask you- I mean, need to… hmm, maybe I should start it in some other way?” He talked to himself out loud, holding his chin while drifting into further contemplation of that matter.

Just how hard could it be?!

Yanqing had went through the same lines at least 10 times in the last hour, explaining to his imaginary picture of Jing Yuan how important it was for him, as the Cloud Knight Lieutenant, to keep an updated arsenal and, above that, the benefits that acquiring the newly-released sword - the Sunset Pierce - would bring to his training and development as a whole.

Of course, it would cost a bit more money that he currently had in hands, but as his mentor, it fell on Jing Yuan’s responsibilities to help him fund that sword. Right, Yanqing nodded to himself, this made sense, yes.

Still, why did it feel so hard to find the right words to talk to the actual general?

No, he could make it. The first defeat is the one that comes from within your own mind, Yanqing reminded himself. He could do it, he just needed to prepare himself a bit more and Jing Yuan would, surely, agree to fund his reasonable request.

Taking a deep breath, the lieutenant slapped his own cheeks before stare into an empty corner of the room - now full of determination. “General,” he started, fixing his posture and holding one hand behind his back while gesturing with the other - just like Jing Yuan himself would do during his speeches, “I’m sure you’re aware of the approach of the Luminary Wardance Ceremony-”

“Yes, I am,” Jing Yuan mused with a smile on his face while making Yanqing squeal and jump like a scaredy cat. The general chuckled, continuing to slowly walk into his office. “What’s the matter about it?”

“G-General, I- ahm, I wasn’t expecting you… to be back… so soon…” He stuttered, his voice only going quieter and quieter as all his planning was turned into shambles before his very own eyes. 

Jing Yuan cocked his head, watching his apprentice with curiosity, “the meeting didn’t take as long as it usually does this time. Anyway, I heard you calling me. I suppose there is something that needs my attention?”

“No- I mean, yes, there… is,” Yanqing nodded, coughing to fix up his voice tone and try to look more presentable - and convincing - before the general and, hopefully, future sponsor. “I’d like to talk to you about the preparations for the Wardance.”

“I’m listening,” Jing Yuan smiled, amusing himself with how Yanqing spoke.The lieutenant nodded, continuing with his report while taking random steps around the office.He already had Jing Yuan’s attention and a good excuse to bring up his personal collection arsenal. He could do it!

“To have a better performance and proper execution of my techniques - which will be representing not only your teachings, but the whole Luofu - I believe we should…”

“We should..?” Jing Yuan continued, taking his seat in the office and resting his elbow on the chair’s armrest.

“R-review my current equipment. After all, I-I can’t fight with swords in a poor state, yes?” Yanqing stopped, looking at his general with expectant eyes. As approval sparked up in Jing Yuan’s face, the lieutenant took it as a sign for him to go on with his rambling reporting. “So, knowing you have a tight schedule and other important affairs to take care of, I went ahead and checked the condition of the swords in the inventory myself.”

“Oh, how productive. And what are your conclusions?” Jing Yuan asked and leaned back in his seat. He could already see where this was going, but he’d still like to hear the arguments Yanqing made up this time.

“O-of course, ahem, most of the swords are in good - i-if not excellent - condition, but-”

“But?” Jing Yuan almost gasped, feigning surprise, “did you encounter a problem within your arsenal?”

“I-it’s not really a problem, but… one of the swords isn’t in as good condition as the other five…”

“So?”

“So, well…” Yanqing stopped in front of Jing Yuan, taking one last deep breath to gather enough courage to utter his request, “Ineedmoneytobuyanewswordandreplaceit!”

Jing Yuan blinked, stunned. He shook his head, chuckling, “I beg your pardon, lieutenant Yanqing. What did you say? I couldn’t understand it.”

Ugh!

“I… need- I mean, I’d like to ask- no, I’d like to count on you funding its replacement.”

There it is, Jing Yuan thought. The general closed his eyes and hummed softly, pretending to be deeply contemplating Yanqing’s request. If he wasn’t exactly sure, but he could swear he “funded” a new sword not long ago and, honestly, couldn’t help but doubt about the actual needs of a replacement. Wasn’t Yanqing’s room filled with dozens of swords already?

“I understand, lieutenant Yanqing,” Jing Yuan sighed, peeking at the boy’s reaction through half closed eyes, “I agree with your line of thought. It’s, indeed, important to make sure all the equipment is in good shape before the Wardance.”

“R-really?!- ahem, I-I’m glad you do, general,” he nodded, trying to contain his excitement and stop a silly smile from spreading on his face, “about the value-”

“But,” Jing Yuan interrupted him, lifting a finger in the air, “I’d like to test you. Your resolve on this matter, to be precise. If you fulfill my expectations, then I’ll ‘fund’ the replacement.”

“S-surely, general. It’s… a reasonable condition, yes,” Yanqing nodded and watched carefully as Jing Yuan got up from his seat and walked around the room, stopping in front of one of the shelves.

Jing Yuan hovered his hands over a couple items before grabbing a Devastator Glaive - one of the standard weapons of the Cloud Knights. As he walked towards Yanqing with the weapon in hand, the lieutenant couldn’t help but wonder what kind of test the general had come up with. A spar? A mission?

“I want you to hold the glaive,” Jing Yuan ordered, handing the weapon to his apprentice who eagerly took it and held it close to his chest.

“L-like this?”

“Not quite,” Jing Yuan chuckled, grabbing the weapon on the spot between Yanqing’s hands and lifting it above the boy’s head, “up here. Yes, this should suffice. Now, ready for the test?”

Yanqing was a bit confused, truth to be told. What did holding a glaive had to do with his new sword? How could this be a test of anything?

“You need to hold the glaive above your head for… a minute. If you can do so, I’ll pay- ah, pardon me, fund your sword replacement. Understood?”

“Yes, general,” Yanqing nodded again, clenching his hands around the glaive’s pole. His training used to include ten thousand sword’s swings, this was a piece of cake. “Whenever you are read-AH!”

Before he could even finish his line, Yanqing was caught off guard by a finger swiping down his armpit. “G-general?”

“Don’t worry, I already set the timer,” Jing Yuan chuckle, reaching out to Yanqing again and wiggling his finger over the exposed spot again, “remember, you can’t drop the glaive or lower your arms.”

“B-but- aHAHaha, g-geheneral this is- hehehey!” Yanqing whined through shy giggles, stomping his feet and twisting left and right - nearly knocking a few things down - as he tried to evade the tickling. This was the test?!

Jing Yuan couldn’t help but to laugh along. “You didn’t complain when I explained the terms, what’s the matter now?” He teased, admiring the way Yanqing battled against his body’s reflexes and tried to stick to the rules. “If you can’t ‘protect’ a simple glaive, I don’t think I can trust you with a new sword.”

“I-I cahAHAhan, i-it juhuhust tihihickles!” Yanqing protested, pressing his face into his arm while trying to contain the smile in his lips. “H-how muhuhuch time leheheft?!”

“It’s been barely 20 seconds. We can stop if you feel like giving up,” Jing Yuan said as if trying to comfort his student, but his hands continued to tickle those unprotected armpits and ribs - not with his life, but rather his wallet on the line.

“NOHohohoh! I cahahan’t do it!” The boy nearly roared while more panicked giggles poured from his lips. Despite trying to keep his arms stretched out above his head, Yanqing couldn’t help but to arch his back and move around in vain attempts to make Jing Yuan’s assault tickle any less.

30, 40, 45… the seconds went by one after the other and Yanqing was already feeling like he would collapse at any moment. His arms threatened to falter, with his elbows trembling and the glaive’s pole already pressing against the top of his head. Still, he was so close, just a little more..!

“EHEhe- g-gehEHenerahal!! Tihihime’s uhuhup!” Yanqing giggled, his voice probably being heard on the other side of the Seat of Divine Foresight’s hall. “St-stohohop it!”

“Oh, has it been a minute already?” Jing Yuan mused, poking Yanqing one last time before checking the little timer. “A minute and ten seconds, indeed. You even overdid it, lieutenant. I’m proud of you.”

“H-hahh… d-don’t tease me like t-this again, please,” Yanqing wheezed, using the glaive’s pole to support himself and keep his body on his feet. Despite the tinglish feeling still running over his body, the sense of achievement was the actual reason behind his smile at that moment. “S-so, can I count on your funding?”

“You earned it, it’s only fair,” Jing Yuan chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair, “you may contact the smith in charge of the project and send me the receipt, ok?”

“T-Thank you, general!” Yanqing beamed, hurrying to the shelf to retrieve the weapon used in his trial, “I won’t disappoint you!”

You never do, Jing Yuan thought… Now, how should he explain the new expenses to Fu Xuan? Sigh, this was a problem for another time…

[watermelongirl01]

The Boy

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Criminal Minds x Supernatural

Summary: A new case appears and Hotch and Jack ask for your help.

Content Warning: Violence, Homicide Talk, Ghosts.

Note: So, I had a little delay cause I usually write at midnight, but with the whole ghost thing I scared myself JAJAJ so I had to stop and watch funny videos and then do it all over again, but I hope you like it.

It was at 2:00 am when Hotch heard a door squeak, it took a couple of minutes for him to realize it was from Jack’s room, and he immediately jumped out of his bed, ran to the door as fast as his legs let him, he left his room ready to get in between of any danger and his son. Hotch frowned in confusion when he met with two boys playing in his living room, or that’s what he thought because only Jack was there when he approached.

“Jack, to bed now.” Hotch said exasperated. 

This wasn't the first time Jack got out of bed at midnight just to play with his toys, which caused many scoldings for Jack, not just from his father, but also in school for falling asleep in class, this was becoming a routine, and for the fourth time in two weeks, Jack had the same excuse.

“It was his idea, I swear.” Hotch squeezed the bridge of his nose.

Jack had recently acquired an imaginary friend named Tommy, he would make him wake up in the middle of the night just to play, or sometimes stay at home instead of going to soccer practice, even if that was Jack's favorite thing to do. The change alerted Hotch, so he quickly took his son to the little boy's therapist. She said it was a common phase for a child like Jack and would end in a matter of time, But it was starting to mess with both father and son´s sleeping schedule. 

“This has to end Jack, we both need to rest.” Hotch took his son´s hand to walk him to bed, but Jack quickly left his side to grab his new favorite stuffed animal. 

He never left the house without it, and at this point, Hotch didn’t even remember ever buying said toy, but Jack insisted the toy was a gift for him from a garage sale they went to.

The next morning was a handful for Hotch, Jack didn't want to go to school, and many cries were invading The Hotchner’s residence, Jack didn't eat a single bite and as a consequence, Hotch didn't either. Father and son were wrapped in an argument when suddenly a glass of orange juice was thrown against the wall next to Hotch’s head causing a small cut on the right side of his face, both were surprised, but fear invaded Hotch when the temperature in the kitchen dropped enough to see his warm breath coming out as small trails of smoke, He knew what that meant, you taught him enough.

“Jack…”

“Tommy doesn´t like grown-ups, he said they all should die.” That sentence left Hotch frozen, he needed you right now.

“Jack, I need you to get into the car, we are going with Aunt Jessica.” The child stayed silent for a while, analyzing the possibility, but nodded and grabbed his toy to tag along with his frantic father.

Hotch let Jessica know it was an emergency and left in a hurry to get to the FBI building hoping to arrive fast enough before your monthly meeting with the FBI director, and he managed to catch you at the door of your office.

“Hey there early bird!” You smiled at the view of Hotch, but the same smile faded when you noticed his demeanor. “Are you okay?”

“I think there’s a ghost at my house.” Your eyes widened. “I need your help.”

“What!?” You squealed, attracting the attention of a few agents, you excused yourself from them and took Hotch’s arm to get him into your office and sit him on your little couch. “Are you sure?”

You didn't give it a second thought and canceled all your meetings, allowing Hotch to take all the time he needed to explain to you all he had experienced recently, from the imaginary friend and the sudden behavior changes in Jack to the morning incident.  

“So, cold spots, imaginary friends, how long has this been going on?”

“Around two weeks.” Hotch answered. “Is Jack in danger?”

“Well, I'm going to take a guess, and say that you are in more danger than he is.” You said while pointing at his wound. “But let's not jump to conclusions that fast. First, it is really weird that this is just happening now and not when you first moved in.”

“You think my apartment is haunted?”

“No, not necessarily, have you bought something weird or old recently?”

Hotch just shrunk his shoulders. “I can’t remember, Would you take a look for me?”

“Sure.”

“Let me drive you to my house then.”

And if this wouldn't be a risky situation you would’ve absolutely made a joke about it.

Hotch drove you to his house, you could tell he was worried, he wouldn’t stop asking questions about ghosts every five minutes, and then stay silent for another five. Which was a pretty good reaction for his first time dealing with supernatural things, and being honest it was way better than your first time.

When arriving at Hotch's home, only five words couldn’t stop repeating in your head; “Please don’t be a poltergeist, Please don’t be a poltergeist.” Now, someone might think that after being a hunter for almost your whole life, you can’t dislike dealing with some types of creatures, but the truth is that you do, there’s nothing you hate more than hunting spirits and all that bullshit of “Just a salt and burn” Cause it’s never just a salt and burn. The Winchesters and your father think you are still afraid of them and they might be right, but you are never going to admit it, and you are for sure never sharing this information with Hotch.

“Alright, I'm just going to need around 20 minutes in your house to register everything.” You said while getting a big duffel bag out of your trunk.

“You are going to need all of that?”

“Yep.”

“And I'm just supposed to let you alone in a house where there's probably a dangerous ghost?”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve dealt with a lot of spirits, Hotch.”

LIES

“I know you are an expert, just humor me and let me come with you.” You sighted.

Let’s not get this wrong, there’s nothing bad with having a protective, hot, brave, with his beefy arms and broad shoulders Hotchner, beside you. But after your little stabby accident, Hotch is a little bit overprotective. And you are afraid he doesn’t trust you anymore, you thought this was your chance to prove yourself again, but it seems like it’s just the same.

Although this was his house and his rules, so you decided to let him come with you to guide you through the house.

When both of you got inside his home you handed him an iron rod, while you took your shotgun filled with salt munitions.

He looked at you expectantly. “I left my other shotgun at my house, sorry. But if you see a ghost just hit it with it.” You gave him a thumbs-up while you took out a device.

“What 's that?” He asked 

“An EMF meter, it’s going to beep if there’s a ghost here.” 

“You think it could be a friendly ghost?” 

The question made you grimace. “There’s a chance, I guess.”

“How high? And please be honest, I can tell you’re holding back on me.” He looked at you.

“Fine, not high enough.” Even if his face didn’t tell on him, you could tell he was concerned. “But there’s lots of kinds of spirits.”

Hotch and you managed to register the whole apartment twice, but the EMF didn’t read any frequency, and right now you were searching in Hotch’s room for the third time.

“Nope.” You said while sitting on his bed. “Nothing.”

“Maybe we missed something.”

“Even if we did, I don’t think it is in the apartment at the moment.” Hotch frowned with confusion. “You see, some spirits can also haunt objects.” 

“You’re telling me the ghost could be with my son, right now?” You nodded with a look of sorrow on your face. “I need to make a call.”

You stayed still in his bed while swinging your legs waiting for him.

“Well, this certainly wasn’t the way I thought I would end up on his bed.”  You said to yourself.

After a quick call with Jessica who assured Jack was doing okay and not talking alone, Hotch returned with a defeated look.

“Is there a chance I was wrong?” He said distracted by the swinging of your legs.

“I don’t think so, those sons of bitches are sneaky.” He took a glimpse of your face and then sat next to you. “Let me tell you what, is there a way you and Jack can be out for a while and leave the apartment alone for a day or two?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, c’mon Hotch, I know you have free days accumulated, and the bureau wants you to take them as soon as possible.”

“I just don’t want to leave alone with all of that.”

“Aaron, I need you to leave this apartment, take your child, and take nothing but your cell phone for when I tell you I banished that spirit to the beyond, are we clear?”

“Did you just call me Aaron?”

“And you liked it, focus. Are we clear?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you liked it? Or yes we are clear?” He smiled a little and started stuffing clothes in a suitcase. 

After spending more than half of the day planning a trip for them, Jessica dropped Jack who was pleasantly surprised by their sudden trip, the kid tossed all his things on the floor and hugged everyone in the room, including you. 

Everything went so fast that Jack didn’t realize he had left his backpack on the sofa after leaving the house so quickly. You saw how a little teddy bear was almost falling to the floor, your instinct was to grab it to get it on the blue, eye-catching backpack again, but you didn’t count on being thrown to the wall and then hit the ground with abruptness while your EMF meter started to beep nonstop.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You said feeling your side hurt. “It’s just a kid.”

You helped yourself up by grabbing the knob of the principal door, twisted it to open the door, and got out of the apartment while crawling to the hallway wall and rested there, trying to see the damage in your skin.

“Fucking ghosts.” You said at the sight of your bruised torso.

A ringing phone distracted you from the pain and you immediately answered when you saw who was calling.

“Hey, sorry to bother but Jack left his backpack and he can’t sleep without his favorite stuffed animal. Would you help me get it  before we leave town?” Hotch’s voice filled your ears.

“Let me guess, a teddy bear.”

“Yes, you saw it? We are driving home.”

“Well hit reverse or get a new toy, because that freakin teddy bear threw me into the air.”

“What?!” he said. “Are you okay? You want me to come back?” 

“No no, I got this, trust me.” You said before hanging up on him.

Now analyzing your situation, you had an angry ghost, who was ready to kill you, a broken rib, and fear to face, cause you can handle spirits and children but individually, and right now you had two for one.

You went into the contacts in your phone, till you found the one you wanted.

“Hello.” A raspy voice answered.

“Oh, Hi De! Just out of curiosity, Are you guys close?”

“Hey, how did you know?” You moved your arms and celebrated in silence. “Cincinnati.”

“I think I prayed too hard.” 

“What 's wrong?”

“You see, I have an emergency, and I kinda left my equipment inside the house with the emergency and I have a freaking shattered rib, I can’t even walk.”

“We can be there in a couple of hours.” 

“Thank you, thank you!” You squeaked in happiness.

You might’ve overreacted and exaggerated the severity of your injuries, but it was a must. You had developed this strategy when you were eight and you were too scared of killing a spider. It consisted of dramatizing the scenario and asking Dean or Sam for help so they would kill it for you, even if you had to say that the arachnid was the size of a frog and tried to chase you down to bite you.

You waited sitting in the lobby for a long time until you heard the unique sound of the Impala’s engine, you stood up in a jump and ran down the stairs to get to the Winchesters. Whose doors were opening to leave the car and wrap you in a warm hug.

You could feel Dean eyeing you with a lifted eyebrow and a mocking smile “I thought you could barely walk.” 

“It’s a miracle!” 

He crossed his arms. “Spoiled brat.”

“Sucker.” He smiled and shook his head.

“Glad to see you are okay.” Sam said with a compassionate smile.

You could tell he still felt bad about the Gordon situation and how he hurt you to get information about Sam.

“Glad to see you’re talking again.”

“I just felt bad, I didn’t know if you were mad at me.”

“Well if you’d only talked to me, you would’ve known.” You said caressing his arm. “I already have enough emotionally repressed men in my life, and one of them is a Winchester, don’t make it two.” 

Dean frowned, annoyed. “Well, let me guess, Spirits?” He smiled.

And you wanted nothing more than to erase that stupid smug smile on his face, but you told the brothers the whole story and the ghost problem, which caused a burst of laughter for Dean and Sam trying to hide his laugh with his fake coughing.

“Are you done?”

“Okay, let me get this straight, you say yes to a salt and burn for your boyfriend, which is already shocking enough cause you are scared of ghosts but then you get the kind of spirit you fear the most?” 

“First, he’s not my boyfriend. Two, I’m not scared of ghosts, I just don’t like them, Dean.”

“Just don’t buy a lottery ticket this week, I don’t think it’s worth it.” 

“Fuck off.”

“Okay.” Sam interrupted. “Let’s just do some research, Do you think it’s vengeful spirit?”

“Probably, I mean is a kid, and it’s been a while since Virginia had any pattern of weird deaths.” 

“You have a name?”

“Tommy.”

“There’s no need for research, we know to which object is connected, let’s just get in fast, take the Teddy bear, and burn it.” Dean stated. “Easy.”

After gathering up their guns, the Winchester and you decided to go for the easy way and got the plan in motion, as you entered the apartment you could notice the change of temperature and the stuffed animal on the couch. You frowned.

“That wasn’t there before.”

The three of you kept pointing your guns at every corner of the room, but nothing showed up. Dean decided to take the lead and ran to grab the Teddy bear, but there wasn’t any luck because he got thrown away by an invisible force. You and Sam stayed alert with your guns up, but there wasn’t anything to shoot at, your eyes connected with his and he gave you a subtle nod, both of you ran at the same time trying to cover the other but once again the ghost didn’t make its presence known and both end up pushed away and suffocated against the wall.

None of you could reach the toy because every time one of you tried it, you would end up crashing into something, the tries stopped when Dean managed to run faster and Sam started to desperately grasp for air. So the three of you decided to leave the apartment to return the next day with more answers. 

~~~

The brothers and you were sitting in your living room eating breakfast while you were researching on your FBI account any files that could help you in the case.

“Nothing.” You sighed with frustration.

Sammy looked at you with his puppy eyes and extended his hand to you asking for your laptop. “Let me try.”

You gave him your side eye but surrended and handed it to him. “No hacking my account for your personal use.” You warned.

“You don’t have to work?” Dean asked while stuffing his mouth with the last piece of bacon.

“I called in sick.” 

“And they believed you?”

“Well, of course.”

“Because you are sleeping with the boss.”

“I’m not!” 

“But you want to.” You rolled your eyes. 

“I have something.” Sam interrupted, stealing the attention. “Five years ago a family was killed by their father who apparently killed himself later.”

“Apparently?” You asked.

Sam nodded. “The forensics found defensive wounds on him.” 

You and Dean frowned. “So, who did it?”

“They never found any other evidence or lead in the case, but there is this photo.” Sam turned the laptop showing on the screen a photo of a family and in the center a child holding a teddy bear.

“That’s Tommy?” 

“No, that’s Adam, but get this, ten years ago, this family in Virginia had a kid who was admitted to the psychiatric hospital, they claimed the kid was evil and violent, and later on, the doctor told the family to take him back because he represented no harm, but after two months the whole family die killed by the dad.” Sam looked at you and showed another picture. “That’s Tommy, he died with a knife in his hand but the police found that hard to believe and determined that the father did it.”

“Fuck.”

“He’s no vengeful ghost.” 

—-

After a couple of hours getting anything necessary for the hunt, you and the boys arrived at Hotch’s apartment with a new plan and ready to finish the hunt and once again the temperature dropped.

“Tommy, we know what you are.” You said with a strong voice but trembling legs while the Winchesters made a circle of salt around you.

A loud and distorted “NO” echoed in the room, you nodded at the boys when they stepped out of the salt circle and ran to get the object connected to the ghost when they finally pissed the spirit enough, the lights started to flicker and a little figure appeared tossing them into a wall.

“Sorry, but I’m not going to let you harm this family, Tommy.” You pulled the trigger and the figure disappeared for a moment but reappeared right in front of you, you shot one more time. Meanwhile, you and Sam distracted the ghost, Dean finally got the teddy bear in his hands to set him on fire and you watched the little figure disappear between red and orange flames.

—-

 You decided to call Hotch the next day, you could have done it the second the Winchesters left town, but you know that the moment you called him, he was going to go directly to work and the truth was that He and Jack needed those days.

So when he arrived home, you decided to pay him a visit after work and ask him to meet you in the hallway.

The moment he saw you he smiled and got close to give you a warm hug full of gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Oh, it’s always a pleasure to help.” You smiled back. “But I came to give you back this.” You place the keys in his hand. “And to give you this for Jack, you know, to compensate the one I had to burn.”  

Hotch smiled while grabbing the stuffed animal. “You are lovely.” 

You blushed. “I also thought about getting you a vacuum, you know, for all the amount of salt that will keep coming out of your carpet, but Jack's feelings seemed more important.” 

He let a chuckle come out of his mouth. “I also heard you finished with that ghost yesterday and not today like you said.” 

You looked at him surprised. “How did you know?”

“A little bird told me.” You squeezed your eyes at him.

“David? More like a crow.” You sighed. “I thought you needed more time away with Jack.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Thank you, love.” Your heart skipped a bit with the pet name, but you just smiled.

“It’s nothing.” He looked down at his hands for a moment but then looked back at you.

“Do you want to stay for dinner? We ordered pizza and I’m sure Jack will love to get this from you.” He placed the stuffed animal back in your hands.

“I would love to.” You said and followed him to get inside his house.

You were a little nervous, your mind made up a million scenarios where Jack didn’t like you because you burned his favorite toy, but it was just the opposite. At the end of the dinner when Aaron stepped aside to clean a little, Jack approached you hugging his new stuffed animal.

“Thank you.” He said to you.

“Oh, I just thought you would love it.”

“No, you saved us, thank you.” He hugged you tight.

You blinked a couple of times letting the information sink in and immediately hugged the kid back. “I will always help you and your dad.”

At the end, Aaron walked you to your car and thanked you for the thousandth time in the night.

“It was nothing, Hotch, I’m just glad I was able to help.”

He shook his head. “It was everything, you did save us.” You frowned 

“You heard?” He nodded. “But also thank you for trusting me with this.” You smiled.

Hotch got closer and hugged you one more time, and then left a kiss on your forehead as a goodbye. 

[poisonlove]

I still hate you… but less.

4:35 PM

It was only 4:35 PM when the principal's verdict had hit us like a bolt from the blue. After the heated argument with the unbearable Jenna Ortega, we were forced to stay at school for an extra two hours. But the worst part? It wasn't just for one day; it was for an entire week.

"I want to die," I sighed. My elbow rested on the desk, my head propped up by my hand as I watched the clock tick away the time.

Our Science teacher shot us a stern look. "Absolute silence, please. I'll be back at the end of detention," he warned, making it clear that any infractions would lead to further penalties. "If you attempt to escape, the detention will be extended by a week, and if you argue, another hour... understood?"

"Mmm-hmm," I muttered with boredom, rolling my eyes in annoyance.

"Miss Ortega, did you understand?" the teacher turned his attention to the source of my frustration.

Jenna was sitting three desks away, her back against the wall, and from my vantage point, I could only see her profile. Ortega had her legs up on the table and earphones in her ears. It was as if she had erected an invisible wall between us, a clear sign of our tension.

"Ortega!" the teacher scolded with annoyance.

Jenna removed her earphones. "Yes, I understood," she replied through gritted teeth, clearly fed up.

"And remove your feet from the table," the teacher added with exasperation.

Jenna complied, and the teacher gave us one final glance before leaving the room.

I decided to pass the time by pulling out my notebook from my backpack, along with a pencil, and started drawing whatever came to mind. The punishment felt endless, and I needed something to distract myself.

As I drew, I scrutinized Jenna's profile more closely. She was clearly ignoring me, with earphones in her ears and a body posture that sent a clear message: she didn't want to talk at all.

My attention focused on her face, noting her upturned nose, heart-shaped lips, and slightly hollowed cheeks. But what struck me the most were her eyes. They were a deep brown, with long lashes framing them perfectly. They were physically flawless, and they captured the attention of anyone who gazed upon them.

My pencil began moving on the paper almost instinctively, creating lines and shadows that took shape. The graphite flowed on the page, delineating every detail of her brown eyes. Each individual eyelash seemed to come to life, capturing the imaginary light reflecting in her real eyes. It was as if I was trying to capture not only the physical appearance of her eyes but also the essence of what they might hide behind that distant expression.

I stuck out my tongue with a slight smile as I continued to draw, this time focusing on Jenna's eyebrows. She raised an eyebrow with confusion and shot me a glare, clearly feeling my gaze on her.

I increased the pressure on the pencil, creating heavy and precise lines as I outlined the curves of Jenna's eyebrows.

"What a pain," Jenna muttered and then stretched, yawning slightly.

In that motion, she lifted her hoodie slightly, revealing her perfectly flat stomach. I felt a bit embarrassed and quickly averted my gaze, my cheeks flushed, continuing to draw while only looking at my notebook. I had gotten the sketch I wanted, and now I wanted to fully concentrate on my work, trying to ignore the distractions around me. The tension between us was still palpable, but at least my drawing was taking shape as I desired.

This bitch has some nice facial features, despite being so insufferable I thought with a wry smile.

Her beauty was undeniable, even though her attitude was anything but amiable. It was a contradictory thought, but at least it helped me focus on my work and set aside the tensions.

"I must say I was wrong; you don't draw that badly," a voice murmured beside me.

"What do you want, Ortega?" I asked with a sigh, not in the mood for an argument.

Jenna had placed her hands on my desk, her head close to mine as she closely examined the contents of my notebook. Her breath was very close to my ear, her hair gracefully falling over her shoulders.

"Nothing from you, just the least I can do is see how you draw, considering that my eyes are on that notebook," she confessed in a bored tone.

The desire to draw faded.

Jenna, with a quick movement, sat in the desk next to mine. "Not drawing anymore?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"No, I feel a terrible presence by my side... very annoying, I must say," I muttered with faux irony.

Jenna burst into laughter.

"I don't understand why you've become so unbearable, you know?" I asked sincerely. "I remember that we were very close friends as children," I mumbled distractedly, smiling at the memory.

Flashback:

I was a little child using colored pencils, trying my best to color a car printed on a piece of paper.

"Wow, you're really amazing!" a voice came from my right, and I smiled when I saw a girl looking at my drawing.

That girl was completely covered in marker stains and seemed quite clumsy. "Can you teach me?" she asked with bright eyes. "Of course," I muttered absentmindedly, and the girl sat down next to me.

"I'm Jenna," the girl said with a big smile. "Y/N," I returned the smile. "I'm sure you and I will become great friends," she confessed, clumsily coloring the sheet.

"The best!" she added quickly, sticking out her tongue and running it over her lower lip.

"We're friends because I'm helping you draw?" I asked, intrigued and a bit confused.

She tilted her head to the side, looking at me curiously. "Isn't that what friends do?" she innocently asked.

End of the flashback.

The reminiscence of those happy moments with Jenna filled me with warmth, but at the same time, it made me feel the sadness of time passed and friendships lost. It was a missing puzzle piece that I had forgotten, and now I held it in my hands, hoping it could help resolve the current situation between us.

Jenna's fingers snapped in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Everything okay, weirdo?" she asked with a small smile.

"Yeah, pain in the neck," I muttered absentmindedly.

"Ugh... what can I say? Those were good times," she smiled, eliciting a faint smile from me.

"Do you remember the times we used to play Romeo and Juliet?" Jenna asked with a smile on her lips.

I chuckled, nodding. "How could I forget? You dressed me up as a prince and said we had to get married," I confessed, making Jenna blush.

"And that time I broke my arm falling from the tree?" she asked, amused.

"I'm sorry about that, it's my fault the ball ended up there," I admitted, remembering the moment when Jenna had tried to catch the ball thrown too high, ending up falling and breaking her arm.

"We were friends... for how long? 7 years?" I asked uncertainly.

"7 years and 4 months," Jenna murmured, surprising me.

"Can you explain why you've become like this?" I asked curiously.

Her smile faded. She crossed her arms around herself, almost embarrassed. "Do you really not remember?" she asked in a whisper.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"No," I honestly replied.

"And if I tell you... 'monkey arms'?" she asked, making a grimace.

I widened my eyes in realization.

I couldn't believe it... Jenna had become so unbearable because of a comment I made when we were 12 years old. We were in the gym, ready for our physical education class.

"Hey, Jen," I called my best friend.

Jenna turned toward my direction, looking at me with a smile on her face and bright eyes.

"Tell me," she asked, adjusting her short-sleeved shirt.

"Have you heard the new song 'Dance Monkey'?" I asked, barely holding back my laughter.

"Yes?" she asked unsurely.

"With those arms, it's definitely your song," I exclaimed, making the girls in the locker room burst into laughter.

I was clearly joking. But Jenna looked at me with flushed cheeks and teary eyes, grabbed her hoodie, and rushed out of the locker room. That moment of light teasing had a much deeper impact than I could have ever imagined.

"Oh, crap," I looked at Jenna with wide eyes, incredulous.

"You made my life impossible because of a comment from when we were kids?" I asked, unable to believe it.

Jenna shrugged without thinking, looking at me with narrowed eyes. "Because of you, I'm still afraid to wear short sleeves," she confessed.

I analyzed her outfit again: an oversized hoodie that completely covered her arms.

"Damn... Jen, I was just joking! I didn't mean to cause all this drama," I muttered absentmindedly, taking her hand to uncover her arm.

"What are you doing?" she asked in panic.

"Showing that you look amazing regardless," I muttered absentmindedly, trying to address her insecurities.

Jenna blushed, and she seemed almost on the verge of a panic attack. "See?" I asked with a nervous smile.

I ran my fingers along her arm, feeling like a complete idiot for making this girl feel bad for years. I had never thought that such a joke could ruin a friendship.

Jenna broke free from my grasp and got up from the desk, seeing that the science teacher had returned to the classroom, ending our punishment.

"See you tomorrow, loser," Jenna muttered, a small smile on her lips.

In the end, now I knew why Jenna detested me so much. In the end, the responsible, clueless idiot was just me.

[emmitaaa4]

Getting exponentially tired of the “elriels want 👹” posts in the elain tags where they proceed to either A) outright invent stuff B) act holier than thou about how they care so much for Elain because they C) misconstrue the little they hear from our side in bad faith, or D) just completely miss the point they’re addressing.

it’s one thing to be bitter about a ship, but geez theyre getting mad at generalizations they made up about what we think. it has to be tiring. non?

small rant beneath, just to vent. yes i know i can (& should) block certain tags, but reading frustrating content is a hobby of sorts.

Im genuinely convinced all these “ewriel”-myths they keep talking about are a result of a bad game of telephone—they hear a random thing a gwynriel says, go “they’re all stupid/delusional/immature (insult of choice) so i don’t doubt what you’re saying”, then repeat it to others.

It’s obvious by the way they wholeheartedly believe that Elain is our puritanical-warrior-self-insert we use to vicariously F Azriel (😃✋). Doesn’t help that they usually don’t look as deeply into Elain as we do & tend to get stuck on obviously superficial statements about her: they cannot seem to fathom an Elain that isn’t just a once-bright socialite wilting away sans her sun-mate. So any hint of darkness/savviness we see in her is just us moulding her into Y/N. sigh

anyways.

I can say i’ve read their posts on here, a ton prior to being involved and some now. I’ve seen their tiktoks & video essays, their powerpoints & reddit posts. i’ve seen their comments all over insta/tiktok (kinda hard to miss, they jump on elriel content with their “um shadows and um pliable bones and mates!!” comments). I am WELL aware of what the general consensus is on that side—which is why I am generally unbothered by GA, don’t mind EL, and am just peacefully sailing aboard my ship waiting for it to reach destination.

And because I care about Elain’s journey, I try to see the story the way they do when i encounter certain elucien arguments. For if i am to even just privately engage in the sHip wArs, i know to remain ✨critical✨ and ✨open minded✨.

… there’s no point turning discussions into angry posts against imaginary adversaries.

EVERY elriel i’ve talked to would read an elucien book because it is Elain’s story we are most anticipating. It’s just very telling to me that very few would do the same; that there’s not a whiff of willingness from most of them to listen to the other side.

The funny thing is that all those anti eWrieL posts** i’ve read tend to address twisted versions of “the elriel narrative.” They take things out of context, or say we have the same 3 arguments—which is genuinely insane bc if you know our ship so well, how can you be off by like 2 orders of magnitude ??? (exaggerating if it wasn’t clear, we can’t know these days).

** Their pro GA content reads very anti-Az, used to be very anti-elain, and has a narrow scope ngl. While the bonus matters, it seems like that is ALL they’ve read. They don’t think much about Elain’s journey or powers or decisions, which is just logically not the best way to analyze the series given she IS what’s to come.

✨Just some common myths they believe✨:

they repeatedly claim that elriels want poor elain to be a kickass warrior torturer to fit Az because they A) don’t actually read our stuff B) enjoy thinking we hate elain, and C) can’t fanthom that spying isn’t 007 ninja activities.

apparently we ship elriel because we think they have this big great romance OFF PAGE 😭. how in the hell— i’ll make a post on this one istg it’s lowkey funny. quick, were nessian strangers and unfeeling towards each other at the start of SF ???? damnit i must’ve missed that.

En tout cas. End of rant the rest stays in the drafts lmao.

but istg one day i’ll cave in and unleash the essays of rebuttals and psychoanalyses of their arguments / thought processes just for shit and giggles.

[chitty-chitty-bang-bang-bang]

Vlad, Viago and Deacon as parents [pt. 3]

[part 1] [part 2] [part 4]

Requested by @italakthoughts (btw, is it pronounced like “eehtalak” or “aytalak”?)

Author’s note: There will be some angst in this part, sorry guys, couldn’t help myself. This is probably the last part of this as headcanons, but I might make a one shot later. Also, I am still open to requests, but I will be a bit slower with posting, bc college is kicking my ass so hard it’s ridiculous.

_____________________________________________

All three have their favourite game to play with you.

For Deacon it’s tag. You run around the whole house, climbing walls and ceilings, turning into bats or dogs and always trying to outsmart each other.

With all the excessive energy both of you have, this is literally the perfect activity to get you to fall asleep faster, because your tag is hardcore. A human wouldn’t stand a chance.

With Vlad it’s blind man’s buff. Because of vampire’s heightened sensitivity, this game becomes all the more challenging for the one hiding, because you have to move very smoothly and be completely silent.

Of course, Vladislav still senses where you are, but he likes to give way to you. Your happy smile whenever you win is absolutely worth it.

Viago always goes for hide and seek. At first, you weren’t a very good at it and chose the most obvious hiding places. But with time you improved to the point, where Viago sometimes legitimately wonders if he lost you.

When he can’t find you for way too long, he just gives up and asks you to come out of your hiding place.

You also do a lot of tea parties together.

Just imagine the three of them sitting at a tiny table with toy cups filled with blood.

You usually made up some kind of weird circumstances for the party. For example, you pretend that you’re aristocratic mice, who conquered a cat’s lair and now celebrate your victory with a tea party. Or you are all wives of a wealthy king and you plot his murder to share the power between the four of you.

They really get into their imaginary roles. Though sometimes this can lead to them getting a bit carried away and actually starting a fight over a fictional event.

Nick and Stu often join in as well.

You really like playing with Vlad’s hair, since he has the longest out of the three and that means you can do a lot of funny hairdos. He doesn’t really mind, as long as you’re careful to not rip anything out (it grows back very fast, but it’s still an unpleasant feeling).

Deacon often gives you piggyback rides anywhere and everywhere. You basically use him as a jungle gym and while it sometimes annoys him, he rarely protests.

In winter, Viago always takes you ice skating. Even though you’re a vampire and you can’t catch a cold (or feel cold for that matter), he still insist on you wearing very warm clothes. People might think he’s not taking good care of his kid!

When they go to New York for the vampiric council duties (shoutout to wwdits show), they take you with them. Viago definitely takes you to see a musical. He’s not bailing on that. And it’s probably going to be something incredibly campy. Probably Andrew Lloyd Webber too.

You and Deacon have an absolute blast in the NY subway, scaring random people to death with little to no repercussions or getting into the last car and drinking whoever dared to sit there alone.

Some random blogger accidentally caught you and Vladislav turning into bats in an alleyway of Manhattan on video. So you had to hunt him down and hypnotise his whole audience into forgetting about the existence of that footage. It felt nice to be famous even if only for a bit.

As any flatting situation, these three have a lot of bickering and arguments.

They really try to avoid having any of those arguments in front of you, but sometimes it gets out of control. In those cases, they try to either deflate it or just ask you to leave the room and let them sort this out.

Petty or not, parents’ arguments are not something a child should be watching.

If you ever die from being burnt by sunlight or get killed by a vampire slayer they will be utterly devastated.

Vladislav is probably the best at handling it. He grieves silently by himself, reminiscing about all the fun silly things you’d say and do when he wasn’t in the mood. With time, the sadness numbs. But there is still that gaping emptiness somewhere in his immortal soul.

Viago would never forgive himself. Maybe if he took better care of you, if he paid more attention, if he took more precautions, if he kept a closer eye on you, if he was just by your side at the right time… maybe you’d still be running through the halls of this dusty house…

Deacon is just furious. He’s furious at whatever caused your death and he’s furious at you for being so reckless and getting yourself killed. Why do his closest ones keep leaving him so suddenly?

But that won’t happen obviously, you’re not dumb enough to die twice ;)

Genuinely, your time with them could be considered one of the happiest periods of your life. And if you tell them that, they will feel very proud of themselves.

All three of them really mean well and want to give you the childhood they never had.

[technicallyfurrydetective]

Hey people I am one of the trolls who stir some shit up and no not the one who sends death threats or stuff but the one who stirs shit up,

ABOUT ME

Interestingly opposite to popular belief i actually do have a life, a husband and 3 girls who are teens now, i started working again 8 years ago after my youngest started 5th grade and yeah i live a cozy homey life but sometimes i just find stirring shit up for no reason at all so amusing & interesting, like irl no one could guess it would be me, my kids teachers praises me for being a god mom and supporting not just my girls but donating and helping her friends who need it, my girls love me and i love them too, i do don't drink or anything i work, spend time with my friends/children/ hubby and that's about it,

WHY I DO IT

But since last year I posted a post where unintentionally people got heated and the arguments got passionate, and I love watching it unfold and sometimes I can't help but post some stuff on other's tags/anons to stir shit up, i am guilty but sometimes i can't help it,

HOW I DO IT

Takes two minutes to make a new ID with an email which doesn't exist.

HONEST OPINION

It so funny how down bad you are for your ships and honestly a little pathetic as well, like i spent some time on both sides of the shipping fandom and it's so pathetic watching you guys fight tooth and nail to prove your imaginary friends will make it in the book and the other side are disgusting rats with no reading comprehension, especially elriels, like sometimes i make stuff up and send them anons that gwynriels said this or that and they get so triggered like most of the time they won't even fact check, with gwynriels i think they are more pathetic because they generally keep their pro tags clean and pretend to not care but you can tell that they hate elriels to death but will pretend otherwise like to me being a two faced cunt is more pathetic,

Like i can't decide which side is worse because elriel on one side makes it clear that they stalk the other tags and openly posts stuff from others tags on their tags, like i have seen too many "tell me why i saw this EL/GA theory/art?" and care about GA/EL opinions too much, they will fight to death to prove how the other side is crack ship, idiots to see any sort of romance in two characters which they can't see, will follow and support elriel blindly and many more but i don't like typing anymore,

Proof in the comments

WHY GWYNRIELS ARE PIECE OF SHITS

They romanticize and choose the weirdest hill to stand on, like they will die defending tamlin X nyx and tamlin X anyone, they hate the main characters to death why the fuck are you still reading the books and sitting here if you hate the main people so much?

They will romanticize the wierdest shits "GA having sex where most women feel comfortable after being raped, Gwyn felt the bond and the love after she was actively raped,

As a survivor myself i think these people need to be more mindful and intelligent,

And the whole elain gate thing, dude who posted tamlain? like they whine for no reason at all,

Cry bout minor stuff and are the reason for the threats trolling like if they kept quite and ignored the trolling would've stopped,

Hate elriel and also think they are idiots for not seeing sparks and glows but will act like a two faced cunt and pretend they don't

Proof in comments:

So really both sides are pathetic and i am too but honestly life is getting too busy so maybe i won't be here,

And i wanted to say this before i left,

You guys are the real ones who need a life and i need a psychopath assessment, i'll get it done soon or go to therapy but for now BYE,

Hope you all love and hope you guys understand that you are all the same people

[bloedewir]

Incorrect Dragon Age: The Veilguard quote dialogue

Solavellan tw

I just can't get this stuff off my mind. It's popping up no matter of my own will.

INT. Lighthouse

Rook: Stop. Murmuring. Stop it. It's pretty annoying.

Solas: I most certainly do not-

Rook: You are. Every bloody time you see her. Freak.

Solas: ..I apologize then. Apparently it is not that easy to separate my thoughts from yours since we were bound, and your mind can barely handle a much simpler tasks.

Rook: Is that an insult? I can swear, it's an insult.

Solas: Maybe my presence can actually have a beneficial effect on such an ordinary mind as yours after all.

Rook: Uh-huh.. better try to improve your social skills and stop being an ass, and talk to your ex. Not that difficult.

Solas: I want to hear neither your advices nor your opinion on that matter.

Rook: You're just scared she wouldn't kneel before Your Wolfy Majesty now, is that so? Hilarious.

Solas: It is not-

Rook: I can ask. That would be fun, I bet.

Solas: Don't, Rook. I'm serious.

Rook: Pfft. Hey, Inquisitor.. hey, have a minute? Can you answer just a tiny question, huh?

Inquisitor: I.. do have time, yes. Fine, ask away.

Rook: I've been thinking..

Inquisitor: Such a promising beginning. And, how is your luck with "thinking"?

Rook: Ugh. Fine, no prelude then. Have you already figured you and your ex were doomed from the start? No happy ending for you, no wedding bells, no half-blood kids.. you do know that, right?

Solas: Such a delicate approach...

Inquisitor: Hm.

Rook: Not an answer.

Inquisitor: The answer is: I don't know what a sick game you two play in your minds and I don't know what makes both of you think I'm willing to join but I do know that if you'll ever talk to me like that again, I'll choke you by my own hand and he will stay trapped in his beloved Fade forever.

Rook: ...okay then. Good talk.

Solas: Pleased, I presume?

Rook: Kind of. That is an answer.

Rook: Oh, come one, it's not that hard. Use your brains. She's so mad about simple question because it still burns. Love and stuff.

Solas: Let me summarize: you intentionally manipulated the painful feelings of one of your trusted allies just to win the imaginary argument I had no intention to participate in?

Rook: I- No, not exactly.

Solas: Hm. And they call me a monster. What will they call you when this is over, I wonder.

[callsignmarz]

MDNI| 18+ | Keegan x Y/N | Fem

TW- mentions of weapons, sexual content & adult language.

“Claim Me.” (Final Pt.)

God, you were sore in all the right places.

But as much as you would love to put all the blame into this morning's work out session.

There was no argument that Keegan did a number on you last night.

You still couldn't fathom how he simply demolished your inner walls. Repeatedly bulldozing his way in, chipping away parts and taking each piece to reconstruct you back together to suit him and him only.

Recrossing your legs for the 20th time today, you squirm in your office chair, fighting the urge to extinguish the wildfire of arousal.

It was a struggle to maintain focus with last night's performance replaying, distracting you from paperwork that was due by the end of the day.

Deep rooted embarrassment swarms with unquestionable desire. As frustration weeds, you finally force yourself to step away from your desk, taking a break to go and walk around the company.

Surely, some fresh air will do the trick.

After walking aimlessly for some time, you wandered into the company's armory. There you saw the regular bunch, fucking around per usual.

Soon, the overlapping voices gradually hushed with all heads in the room turning in your direction. A few soldiers quietly snickered and whispered amongst themselves, thinning your eyes in suspicion, but decided it was better to not ask any questions.

Somehow, last night, word had gotten out and rolled over into today's hot gossip. Unknowingly to you, the swirl of rumors had knitted a blanket of awkwardness, swaddling you completely.

"You have fun last night, L/N?" Asked a random soldier. By the sound of his tone, he was definitely a dared. The question alone had your cheeks glowing with palpable embarrassment but, as hard as it was, you kept your cool.

"Depends on who's asking?" You retort as you faced the giggling soldiers, folding your arms defensively across your chest, giving them an audacious look of ‘Just try and fuck with me.’

At this point, Keegan had just strolled in, placing his rifle meticulously on the leaden gun rack, paying no mind to the room’s current focal point. It wasn’t until what he overheard that made him see nothing but red.

“You were playing with yourself last night?”

“Actually, I wasn’t, Corporal Neece.” You shot back moving a hand to your hip, rolling your eyes to the back of your skull, disgusted that this was even up for discussion.

“Riiight…then, you must’ve been playing with your imaginary boyfriend.” Neece meddles on, getting a kick out of how red your face had turned. “Awe, don’t be so bashful, Y/N.”

Your mouth flops open and right as the natural instinct to slap the ever living shit out of this man, Keegan’s large hand seized your wrist and stationed himself on your front lines. His veins bulge on the verge of bursting with rage. Curling his fingers tightly into a fist, Keegan’s piercing gaze waned in on the now mousey soldier.

“How about this, Corporal. I’m the boyfriend. Do I look real enough to you?” Keegan attested, taking a step forward and cornering Neece with fear lodging itself in his throat, he frantically nods when his back pressed against the cool metal of the weapon’s cabinet. “Good. Now, get lost…all of you.”

Keegan’s authority was never one to be messed with and when he started barking out orders; it meant business. Everyone scrambled, heading Keegan’s order before they all scurried off.

All, except for you.

“I didn’t need you to come to my rescue.” You said sharply, snatching your wrist back, desperately trying to conceal the humiliation you felt. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

Keegan scoffs. “You’re not denying it this time, Sweetheart.”

“There’s nothing to deny. We’re just friends.” You repeated your infamous rebuttal.

Taking a finger, Keegan gently guides your face, lifting your chin up so your eyes meet with his frosty blues. You innately hold a breath in when you feel his other hand snake to the small of your back. “Are you done? Because I’m getting real sick of this little game you’re trying to play right now. We both know what happened. You know damn well that we have something…something real…”

Your bottom lip backpedals between your teeth when Keegan’s thumb skates across, reimagining how they perfectly molded to his last night. With the heat between your bodies radiating, you lean into Keegan’s supportive embrace, perching your arms over his shoulders, no longer denying the insatiable chemistry.

Resting his forehead on yours, Keegan’s next words bristled your skin with goosebumps.

“Claim me.”

Right on cue, you pull Keegan’s skull balaclava up to the bridge of his nose and without a second to spare, your lips collided fervently. Keegan deepens the kiss as his tongue eagerly invades your mouth, exciting a few soft moans out while you relish on the taste of his control. Keegan’s hand falls to cup the shape of your ass, flawlessly it manipulated underneath his palm, his pants grow uncomfortably tight when the flashbacks of last night begin rolling in. The fire of arousal continues to spread when Keegan lightly nips at your bottom lip, your hips take initiative, desperately gyrating against his, igniting primal urges of his own.

Just as stars began to fill your vision, a husked voice took you both by surprise, nearly pissing yourself in the process.

“So you two are an item.” Logan casually publicized with a studious expression. “Could’ve fooled me, to be honest.”

Panicking, you immediately shoved Keegan away with enough force that the air in his lungs come out as a hushed grunt and his expression sours at friendly distance you created as well as the stammering excuses that started pouring from your mouth. Logan’s hand eventually comes up in protest, putting a pause on you.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Y/N. You two make a cute couple. I’m just happy Hugh Hefner over here finally found a good one.”

[nabbit-unmasked]

Thinking about when time when I was in Reddit therian and otherkin communities.

Once time, I made a google slides presentation for myself with positivity about being C.A.R. kin, and every single being supported me except this one exclusionist guy. He called me controversial and had a whole argument with me in the comments.

He was very strict about who he saw as a valid otherkin and gatekeeped others to hell and back. It wasn't just with me and being an African nation, but he pretty much nitpicked everyone he saw. If there was anything about them that didn't match his perfect standard of being an 100% involuntary, monokin/very few kin, non-physical, completely serious, not seeking validation, mythical creature otherkin, he found a way to argue with you and tell you what he thought you should be. This man was in his 20s and talking to a bunch of experimental/new-to-kin teenagers about this stuff, mind you.

Later on, my and a fellow otherkin friend messaged a user that he was, once again, gatekeeping and invalidating. I believe it was because they were original species kin, but I'm not quite sure. Either way, they reported him and he was banned the next day (thank goodness).

When I was in Reddit spaces, this wasn't all that uncommon either. He was just a more extreme example. People did make fun of "tumblr kins", which I believe was a satirical/troll movement a couple years back that made fun of bizzare kintypes and experiences. But the same idea still stuck; sometimes, tumblr was known as the place with a bunch of fakers and confused teens with 50+ kintypes, which is extremely indicative of "faking" in reddit spaces.

I admit that I partook in it gatekeeping, too. Specifically in therian spaces: it was extremely common for young & new therians to come in and ask if they were a valid therian, and a few people would reply and tell them the usual spiel: "as long as you aren't controlling it and you dont think you're physically an animal and you identify as not with, then yes!!!!"

When I found the r/alterhuman subreddit instead of other big kin subreddits, I totally changed my views on who counted as a "real therian/otherkin/whatever-else-kin". If you identify as it, you are it, and only you can decide that for yourself. It's no one else's decision, because they aren't in your mind.

That's when I left Reddit and came over here.

I realized something that could have been useful years ago when I was experiencing impostor syndrome over my plurality.

If you think you're faking, what's the reason for that? Is it because you feel like you subconsciously chose to be the way you are? Is it because you got hyperfixated on the community you're in? Is it because you dont experience any of the common or "more serious" traits of your identity?

Chances are, whatever it is that's making you feel that way is actually valid. Gatekeepers will try to shape their communities into the perfect mold that their brain sees them as, or as the people around them have made it out to seem. In reality, the ideal community is completely subjective and imaginary. There is no one, no force, no ideology that can stop you from identifying the way you do. It's entirely mental, individual, and personal. Theoretically, I could put on any label that I wanted to right now, and no one but myself could stop me.

After I realized I could apply that to myself, I understood most of my imposter syndrome came from the fact that my autism clung to communities and made me subconsciously gravitate to them due to hyperfixation. I always tried to find reasons why that couldn't be true, but I realized I didn't have to do that anymore. I accepted that was essentially what was happening. If someone did develop their identity, subconsciously or not, due to a hyperfixation, that was valid. When I built my own moral compass and stopped gatekeeping others, I was then able to stop gatekeeping my own self.

[ovtsakaramel]

Do you have anymore finnick/odesta head cannons i loved your first one!

So sorry this took some time to answer but heres the hcs

🩵Finnick never wanted piercings or tattoos or anything like this but when he had a crush on Annie and saw the kinds of guys she's into he just went to her and asked her to pierce his ear. She, with the experience of piercings her friends, agreed and was just so happy that he trusts her and actually talks to her, and not talking to her only when she goes to annoy him, immediately says yes. His ear got infected the next day but he didn't let her see him until he managed to get it under control so she won't feel guilty and he won't be like that one kid who got an Infection while all the others are cool and edgy. He ended up loving it, but no needles touched his body again.

🩵Finnick has some days where he just locks himself in his house and doesn't do anything and just sits there until the pain eats him alive and he falls asleep. The stinging rotting from the inside covering each organ, his mind already lost and there is nothing but the last face. Then the others. He's back there. The skin starts rotting too from every hit of the imaginary touch. The two rots meet each other in the middle layer of his body and send the destroying fire. He's numb now. Didn't move for the whole day. The numbness goes to his brain and he shuts down. The next morning he wakes up to a knocking too loud to be from anyone other than the woman always ready for an argument, the victor of last year's games - Annie Cresta.

"Wake up you piece of actual fucking shit! Finnick Odair! Wake up, motherfucking idiot!" The only thing that could make him wake up was a voice this annoying. The only motivation to wake up every morning was the hope that he could win in a fight with her. She was his only hope.

"Do I still bring you hope?" Annie is laying on his chest, he dark brown hair shining with a red essence from the morning sun. The red from the anger he had to her once was now the calming red of love that hits her hair with the sun.

"You're both my thirteenth reason and my only reason, fucking spawn of Satan." She throws the blanket over him and stands up, putting her red panties on. Well, maybe he didn't like red on her in one way. "Hey, take them off again, why standing up?"

"I'm mad." She says.

" -ly in love with me?" He gives her puppy eyes.

"Asshole. What you said it's not true."

"That you're my only reason to live? Or that you are my 13th reason?"

"That you have only 13 reasons"

"Ouch." Well, it didn't actually hurt. Sometimes making jokes was the only way to get through it. Thank God he had a girlfriend that can't take anything seriously.

She puts his shirt on and starts doing her makup. At that moment, he realized - there was another reason to live: to learn how tf can this 20 year old woman have the line drawing skills of a 3 year old child. And know that many swear words for every time she fucked up her eyeliner.

[All of these are headcanons that I planned to write separately, but I felt like if I did a car was gonna hit me tmrw] ok so this was also a little not really thought off and it's just a silly thing don't look a lot into if it's realistic or not

🩵Annie despises being called darling. But she is a sucker for baby and doesn't give a fuck about how cringe it is, she is cringe and will never stop being. She calls Finnick angel because since they kissed for the first time, there was nothing more ethereal and unhumanly nice than the man she used to despise.

🩵Annie may not cook, but she is a fire bartender.

🩵Finnick once stole a cigarette from Annie and will never tell her because she would make sure that he doesn't touch one again.

"Why can you do it then?"

"Because I'm fucked up and don't matter, I'm already way too far gone! I'm crazy! And you matter!"

"I'm far worse than you."

"Well I'm too far gone in loving you." She snaps the cigarette from his hand and takes a smoke.

[returnsandreturns]

I got a spicy idea but I'm not brave enough (like you) to write it, so I bring it here, for you to do what you want with or ignore

ADHD-coded Foggy has trouble focusing on his cases because the thing he needs to do is boring and doesn't give him enough stimulation. He complains about it to Matt. Matt offers to help by making things more exciting and adding some stimulation.

And that's how Matt ends up under Foggy's desk and Foggy gets a blowjob while he tries to read case law.

Would that actually work? I'm not sure. Maybe for a while. But it's an excuse for getting things spicy.

i literally sat down and wrote this as soon as i read it and it's almost 1k

i did change it to college, though

--

"You're never going to finish if you keep coming to complain about it," Matt says, before Foggy can so much as say a word as he gets up to lean against Matt's bed where he’s sprawled out listening to music and doing nothing else because he’s efficient and organized and better. 

"How are you finished already?" Foggy asks, accusingly. "What's your secret?" 

“I went to the library,” Matt says, “where it was quiet and there was nobody to distract me.” 

“Are you saying I’m a distraction?” Foggy asks. 

“In the very best way,” Matt replies, with a smile that Foggy wants to kiss off his face. “I can leave and give you the room if you want.” 

“No, my desire to have you carnally is only one of the several different thought processes that are keeping me from finishing these fucking citations,” Foggy says, sighing. “I’ve also got three different songs stuck in my head and am losing an imaginary argument with a professor as we speak and I really need to wash my sheets or you won’t want to be in them which is very important to me and now I’m back to carnal–” 

Matt interrupts him by surging up to kiss him. 

“I have an idea,” he says, “that I’m. . .85% sure won’t work at all.” 

“Could be worse odds,” Foggy says, suspiciously.

“Wait there,” Matt says, pressing one more kiss to his cheek before getting up to brush past him, move Foggy’s desk chair to the side, and crawl under the desk on his hands and knees. It’s an awkward fit and Foggy can’t do anything but watch him with wide eyes as Matt settles on his knees with his head lifted out from under the desk.

“. . .catch me up,” Foggy says, wide-eyed.

“Maybe it’ll help if you’re only distracted by one thing?” Matt offers, hesitantly.

Foggy makes an incoherent noise. 

“Foggy, I’m going to blow you while you finish your paper,” Matt says, sighing. “Are you interested?” 

“. . .yeah, yes, absolutely,” Foggy says, almost tripping over his own feet to get back to his chair, feeling a little faint at the concept and at the smile that Matt gives him when he rolls the chair back and spreads his legs a little more. 

“Keep working,” Matt prompts, running fingers up one of Foggy’s thigh until he slides them under the waistband of his sweatpants. “If this works, we’re going to both be valedictorian.” 

“Valedicktorian,” Foggy breathes out, gasping when Matt pulls his sweats down just enough to free his erection. 

“Absolutely not,” Matt says, laughing, ducking down to lick a stripe up Foggy’s dick, making a satisfied noise before he takes it in his mouth for just a moment before he pulls off to say, warmly, “Work.” 

“Right,” Foggy says, faintly. “Work.” 

It’s definitely hard to pay attention because Matt is extremely good at this but there’s something to his theory. The feeling of Matt’s tongue moving when he’s got Foggy deep in his mouth, close to his throat, is the only other thing he can focus on. He’s getting a little more done than he had been and Matt seems like he doesn’t mind taking his time to make sure that Foggy doesn’t get off too quickly. 

“Your neck has to be hurting,” Foggy says, when Matt sits up a little and bumps his head on the desk, swearing softly. 

“Shut up,” Matt says, again, warmly. “I’m working, too.” 

“I firmly believe you could do this professionally,” Foggy says. 

He gets lost in the feeling of Matt getting him close over and over, slumped down and wishing he could touch him, run his fingers through Matt’s hair, pull it like he likes. He’s just wrapping things up, though, checking citations and looking for typos, so it’s not that hard to just let his brain wander between the two.

“Do you think you’ve done enough?” Matt asks, eventually, resting his head on Foggy’s knee.

“Are you bored?” Foggy asks. 

“It’s less fun when I’m doing it all myself,” Matt says. 

“I need to proofread one more time,” Foggy says, shutting his laptop and scooting backward in the chair, gently taking Matt’s hair to lead him out, “but this is more important.” 

Matt immediately gets back to work and Foggy runs fingers through his hair, tightens them occasionally to hear and feel Matt moan, tells him how good it feels and how good he’s doing because he knows being called good does something to Matt that they haven’t fully unpacked. After almost a full hour of being teased, he doesn’t last long and Matt swallows when he comes in his mouth, wiping off a little from his lips when he sits back on his heels. 

“Well?” he asks, looking gorgeous with messy hair and a swollen mouth.

“I mean, it didn’t not work,” Foggy says, laughing.

“Science,” Matt says, climbing into his lap, one knee resting on the chair between his legs as he leans down to kiss him.

[gimmiesophiebaek]

Violet Bridgerton’s Party Service

Rated: G Staring: All of the Bridgertons + partners Prologue: Tea Party (1968)

Violet Ledger sat on the edge of her bed, her small hands carefully adjusting the delicate paper crown her father had made for her. It was adorned with gold foil and little bits of ribbon that shimmered in the afternoon light, a perfect accessory for her grand "Queen's Afternoon Tea" party. In her ten-year-old mind, there was nothing more magical than playing queen, surrounded by her beloved teddy bears, her doll, and maybe—just maybe—some real cakes.

Downstairs, she could hear her parents' voices rising in the kitchen.

"Charles, you’re encouraging this childish behavior! She’s turning ten, for heaven’s sake. It’s time she learned to be a young lady, not play-acting as some imaginary queen," her mother, Vivian, said, her tone clipped as she whisked eggs for the cake. She was dressed impeccably, her hair pinned in place like a crown of her own, a symbol of her version of grace and maturity.

"Vivian, she's still a child.” Charles sighed, setting down the small tin crown-making tools he'd used to help Violet. “Let her be. There’s plenty of time for makeup and boys. She’s got her whole life ahead of her for that."

"Exactly!" Vivian snapped. "And that’s why she needs to learn now. You don’t want her to be awkward and unfashionable when she’s older, do you? What if she meets someone important—someone like the Prince of Wales, perhaps? She should know how to carry herself like a proper lady."

Violet listened quietly as she sat before her mirror, adjusting her crown one more time. She was no stranger to these kinds of arguments. Her mother always seemed so focused on what Violet should be in the future, while her father seemed to be the only one who truly saw her as she was now—a little girl who still dreamed of castles, queens, and afternoon tea parties with lace and sugar cubes.

She straightened her spine, imagining herself sitting in a grand velvet chair like Queen Elizabeth, who ruled the country with wisdom and grace. Violet loved the idea of being a queen—strong, kind, and in charge of her own world. The makeup her mother insisted on always felt like a mask, like it wasn’t really her underneath. But this crown? This crown felt right. It sparkled just like she imagined a queen's should.

"I don’t see why we can’t let her enjoy herself," Charles continued, his voice growing firmer. "Let her play and dream. She's only ten, Vivian. What’s the rush?"

"Because, Charles, it's our job to prepare her for life.” Vivian sighed dramatically, her frustration audible. “And life isn’t a fairytale."

Violet stood up from her vanity and quietly made her way down the stairs, the crown perched perfectly on her head. As she reached the kitchen doorway, she saw her parents standing across from one another, her father looking calm, her mother exasperated.

"Well," Violet said softly, drawing their attention, "I’m ready for my tea party."

Charles grinned, his eyes lighting up as he saw her. 

"Ah, Your Majesty!" he said, giving her a mock bow. "Shall we attend to your royal subjects?"

Vivian turned to look at Violet, her expression softening slightly as she took in the sight of her daughter with the crown, looking so proud and content. For a brief moment, her stern expression wavered.

"You look lovely, darling," Vivian said, a hint of warmth in her voice. "But maybe after your party, we can try a little lipstick? Just to see how it looks."

Violet smiled, though the idea of lipstick didn’t excite her in the same way the tea party did. 

"Maybe," she said, noncommittal, her attention more focused on the table her father had set up with mismatched china and floral napkins.

As they all sat down at the table, Charles pulled out a chair for his daughter and placed a small teddy bear in the seat next to her. 

"The Queen’s loyal advisor," he joked.

Vivian sat as well, her posture perfect, her eyes scanning the room as though checking for signs of elegance. 

"I suppose one more tea party won’t hurt," she said quietly, though Violet caught the glimmer of a smile as her mother lifted a teacup.

Violet beamed, feeling the weight of her crown and the joy of being in her little kingdom, if only for a day.

Continue on AO3

[angeliqueiguess]

Dear Professor… (s.jn)

´´Get out of my head´´

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, sexy thoughts i guess.

Masterlist

Days passed, some flying by and others dragging along slowly, but that didn’t stop Y/N from diligently reviewing her notes. To be honest, though, she wasn’t killing herself studying; she just skimmed through them every now and then, just in case… in case John Suh decided to throw a tricky question her way in the next session.

´´Come on, Y/N, that’s enough,” Sooah complained from the kitchen, eyeing her with furrowed brows. “You haven’t put those papers down since your ‘talk,’” she said, using her fingers to make imaginary quotes in the air.

“There’s less than a week left,” Y/N replied without looking up from her handwritten notes. “I can’t take any chances.”

Sooah brought her hand to her forehead, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “It’s a tutoring session, not an exam, idiot. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Wow, thanks for the support, best friend,” Y/N retorted from the couch where she lay back. “Besides, what if he throws me a curveball? I need to be ready.”

Sooah scoffed, resting her elbow on the kitchen table while giving her a mix of pity and amusement. “You’re losing it. What are you trying to prove, Y/N?”

“That I’m capable,” Y/N answered, unwavering.

“And aren’t you already?” Sooah looked directly at her with that expression she used when she wanted to dig deeper.

Y/N fell silent, frozen. Of course, she was capable; she always had been. So… what was she trying to prove?

“The problem is that he’s the one who’s wrong,” she finally said, shaking her head as if that could put the topic to rest. But Sooah wasn’t buying it.

She moved closer and sat on the floor with the low table between them. From there, she looked at Y/N with an intensity that made Y/N finally lift her gaze from her notes.

“Sometimes you’re so smart that it surprises me how fucking blind you can be to the simplest things,” Sooah said seriously.

“Oh, really? And what is it that I’m not seeing?” Y/N asked, throwing her notes down on the table in frustration.

“That he’s interested in you,” Sooah said plainly.

Y/N let out an incredulous laugh, as if the mere idea were a ridiculous joke. But her friend’s serious gaze didn’t waver, and for a moment, Y/N hesitated, quickly shaking her head.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No. How many times have Hyuck and I told you?”

“The shit Hyuck says is all nonsense,” Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “I think you’re spending too much time with him, and it’s affecting your brain. Be careful; if you keep this up, you’ll end up betting on anything.”

Sooah stood up with a huff, clearly unwilling to keep arguing. “Just a heads up: when you find yourself neck-deep in this, don’t come crying to me,” she said before disappearing to her room.

Y/N shrugged and mockingly murmured, “Mimimimi, don’t come crying, mimimi.”

“I heard you!” Sooah shouted from behind the door, making Y/N roll her eyes.

After an hour of shuffling through papers, Y/N stood up, frustrated, feeling the day’s tension accumulating in her body. She stretched until her back cracked and decided it was time to clear her mind a bit. Maybe a walk around campus would help organize her thoughts.

Just before heading out, she remembered that Sooah hadn’t left her room during that time. She hesitated for a moment, still feeling a bit uneasy from their earlier argument, but ultimately decided to approach her. Y/N walked to the door and knocked softly.

“What’s up?” Sooah’s relaxed voice came from inside.

Y/N opened the door carefully to find her sitting at her desk, headphones on, typing quickly on her computer. Sooah glanced at her but didn’t stop typing.

“Hey, I’m going for a walk. Do you want to join?” Y/N asked softly, testing the waters. She wasn’t sure if their earlier conversation had left any awkwardness.

“No, thanks,” Sooah replied casually, but to Y/N’s relief, she accompanied her answer with a brief, sincere smile.

Y/N nodded, feeling the tension between them dissipating.

“Sorry about earlier,” she said quietly, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.

Sooah took off her headphones and stopped typing, giving her a sympathetic look. “It’s fine. You’re stressed; it’s normal.” She grinned mischievously before adding, “But when what I told you happens, be ready, because I’ll say, ‘I told you so.’”

Y/N let out a light laugh, rolling her eyes. “Leave me alone. I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”

“Sure,” Sooah replied with a nod, putting her headphones back on.

Y/N gently closed the door and stepped out of the apartment and onto the campus.

The cool evening air hit her face as soon as she crossed the building’s threshold. She wasn’t carrying her phone, just herself, the gentle breeze, and her thoughts that swirled around uncontrollably. She walked slowly, aimlessly, trying to clear her mind.

Maybe Sooah was right… what if John really was interested in her? She didn’t want to overthink it, but she couldn’t ignore certain signs. Lately, she had noticed something in the way he looked at her, as if searching for something in her, even though he had been keeping a more distant demeanor than usual.

It was a strange contradiction: his glances almost felt heavy, as if carrying a hidden message, but he avoided speaking to her beyond what was strictly necessary.

Could she be exaggerating? Maybe her mind was just playing tricks, adding meaning to gestures that didn’t mean anything. After all, they only had two classes together each week, and he was more likely to see her as an annoying student than anything more. But… what if it wasn’t like that?

Y/N shook her head, trying to push those thoughts away. “It doesn’t make sense to think about this,” she told herself, but the unease lingered, like a shadow that wouldn’t fade.

With a deep sigh, she stuffed her hands into her pockets and continued walking, letting the crunch of dry leaves under her feet pull her back to the present, if only for a moment.

And what if something happened? Something beyond that?

She began to imagine possible scenarios where her professor would ask her something out of a story she read when she was bored, the ones that Donghyuck described as weird and disgusting.

The scenes grew more vivid in her mind: him leaning over her desk, his deep, low voice asking her something so out of place that she couldn’t even repeat it aloud. What would she do if he actually said something like that? What would she reply?

An uncomfortable heat started to creep up her neck to her cheeks. Wait… was she blushing?

“This can’t be serious,” she muttered to herself, covering her face with both hands as if that could erase the thoughts flooding her mind. Y/N L/N, you’re blushing over fantasizing about someone you can’t stand.

But then, like a mental trap she couldn’t avoid, another uncomfortable truth emerged: John was attractive. That cold, impenetrable gaze, that rigid stance that seemed unbreakable… Damn it.

“Oh no… this is going to be hell.” She sighed, running a hand over her face as she tried to compose herself. What was she doing imagining herself like that with him? He was irritating, arrogant, and basically the person who drove her the craziest… but that didn’t change the fact that there was something about him that drew her in, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

She pressed her lips together, trying to shake off the images swirling in her mind, but it was like trying to forget a catchy song: the more she tried, the more vivid the details became.

And the worst part was that the more she tried to convince herself he was just an arrogant professor, the harder it became to ignore that she had started seeing him in a completely different light.

“God, I need therapy.” She laughed weakly, picking up her pace as if that would help her leave her thoughts behind. But one thing was clear: in the coming weeks, every time she saw him, she wouldn’t be able to act like nothing was happening.

After the short walk, Yn returned to the apartment. As soon as she stepped inside, she slipped off her shoes by the entrance and swapped them for her slippers, feeling instant relief as she realized the walk had helped clear her mind of the thoughts that had been weighing in her head.

She made her way to Sooah’s room and noticed the door was slightly ajar. She hadn’t meant to peek, but curiosity got the better of her, and she leaned in. Sooah was sound asleep, her breathing soft and steady. The light was still on, so Yn reached through the gap to turn it off and gently closed the door, making sure not to disturb her. As she turned away, she thought to herself, Maybe I should take a nap too.

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Angelique's notes: Heyyy it's me with an update! This was just the beggining hehe, I wanted to give a little bit more depth in y/n's mind and thoughts soooo there it is! I hope everyone enjoyed you arleady know the drill, follows and likes mean the world to me <3 Nonetheless, take care and make sure you drink water regularly!! Love yaa!

Taglist: @addyanm