#obviously this would all be light hearted

[dykeadvocate]

class president

pairing: abby anderson x afab!reader

summary: abby promises that she will drop out of the class president race if you let her fuck you in the ass.

content: bully!abby, anal, fingering, strap on, manipulation (dubcon kinda then), degradation, squirting, public sex, name calling, teasing, praise, pussy fucking, slapping, nerd!reader.

For as long as you can remember, you have wanted to be the class president. The importance of the role made you squeal in excitement, and it would look good on your college applications. You thought that you would be the only person applying for the role; nobody else seemed interested in it. So, when you heard that Abby fucking Anderson had applied for it, your stomach dropped and eyes filled with tears. 

Abby has been your bully since you met her. She would slam your books out of your hands, shove you into lockers, throw paper balls at the back of your head, and make your life miserable. For some reason, everyone loved her. She would win the popularity vote by far, becoming the class president. 

The library is quiet and empty. It would be the perfect time to study, but you can’t focus with the disappointment and dread running through your body.

“Don’t lose hope,” your best friend, Ellie, says, trying to comfort you.

You roll your eyes, slumping in your chair. You catch a glimpse of one of Abby’s posters, her stupid face slapped in the middle of it with the words ‘vote for me’ next to it. She didn’t even put any effort into the poster. You put hours into designing yours.

“If I have any hope, it’ll just make it hurt more when I lose,” you sigh. 

“Don’t sound so pathetic.” 

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of Abby’s voice, giving her a chuckle. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest, her muscles on display. If you didn’t hate her so much, maybe, just maybe, you would find her attractive. She has a stupid, cocky grin on her face that makes you want to leap out of your seat and right-hook her. 

“What do you want, Abby?” you growl.

She huffs, “God, you’re such a defensive loser. I just want to talk to you. Alone.”

Ellie pushes her glasses to the tip of her nose, frowning. “I’m not leaving so you can bully them without a witness.”

“A witness? Are you serious?” Abby shakes her head with a dry laugh. She whacks the back of Ellie’s head, making her yelp in surprise. “I don’t care who’s watching when I make you both look even stupider than you already are.”

Ellie’s finger shoots into the air, “First, fuck off. Second, I’m actually not stupid, I have a-”

Abby groans loudly, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet. You think about fighting her, but you’re curious about what she has to say. She never talks to you in private, no matter how embarrassing the talk is. One time, she told you that your bullet vibrator had slipped out of your backpack in front of half the class. You will never forget that day.

Abby suddenly stops in front of a door, fumbling for a key in her pocket before unlocking it and shoving you inside. The dim light reveals that the tiny room is the janitor's closet. You shuffle, trying to create some distance between you and Abby. The distance is short-lived. Abby slams you into the wall, her hands resting beside your head, trapping you between her and the wall. 

“You wanna be class president, yeah?”

You nod eagerly, “Obviously.” 

“Good. I’ll drop out of the race, meaning you will win by default, if you let me fuck you in the ass, right now.”

You freeze, heat quickly running to your cheeks. You look everywhere but her face as you splutter for a reply, her straightforwardness taking you off guard.

“In the janitor's closet?” is all you can manage to say.

Abby grins, “Yeah, it’s got everything we need.” She gestures to the small wooden table next to you. “Well, what’s it gonna be? My offer runs out in 10…9…8…”

“Okay!” 

“Bend over, then.”

You feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest as your chest presses against the table. Never in a million years, would have you considered doing anal, let alone with Abby Anderson. She slowly pulls your pants down, her hand gliding over the mound of your ass. Her finger hooks around your panties, pulling them to the side.

She groans softly, her finger sinking into your hole, your pussy clenching and sucking her in deeper. Her thumb finds your clit, and you shudder.

“Y-You just said that you would only fuck me in the ass.”

“Do you want me to fuck you dry or something, idiot?” 

You shake your head, gripping onto the table like it were your life support. Abby toys with you for a while, her fingers slipping out to slap your thighs before slamming back into you, keeping you on the edge of an orgasm. 

“Holy fuck,” she moans. “I knew you were slutty, but I didn’t know you were this slutty. You’re dripping all over me, and you haven’t even come yet.” 

You whimper, her wet fingers pulling out of your pussy leaving an uncomfortable feeling of emptiness to circle the rim of your tightest hole. Slowly and carefully, she pushes her middle finger inside of your ass, hushing you as you start to squirm and whine. It stings at first, but quickly dulls; the pleasure overtakes it.

“That’s it. You’re doing good,” she mutters. “Feels better now, huh?”

Her praise made your heart flutter; you would never have thought that Abby could say anything nice to you, only cruel words left her mouth. She adds a second finger, her hand clamping over your mouth to stifle your loud moan. The tears running down your face soak her hand. 

“Can I fuck you with my strap?” her question comes out in a breathy moan, like the idea of it has her throbbing.

“That would hurt really bad, Abby.” Your words are muffled by her hand.

“Please, I swear I’ll take it slow, and it’s not too big either.”

You laugh. Abby Anderson begging? That’s new. But her words dripped with such desperation that you find yourself unable to deny her, whimpering a soft okay. Her fingers leave your ass, and you hear the unzipping of her pants before the tip of her strap is pressing against you. A cold substance is rubbed around the rim of your ass.

“I thought you didn’t have lube,” You look back at her, eyebrow raised.

She shrugs. “I wanted to feel your pussy, too.” 

A shiver runs through your body, the strong reaction from her words making heat run to your face. You didn’t want to react like this. You weren’t attracted to her, and you definitely weren’t enjoying this, right? Okay, maybe you’re enjoying this a little bit, but you’re still only letting her do this because she’s giving you class president, not for any other reason. 

As she pushes the tip of her strap in, you grasp onto her hand, squeezing tightly. You expect her to shake you off, like she normally would do, but all she does is murmur a quiet praise and squeeze back. It hurts more than her fingers, but the way she talks to you almost minimises the pain.

“Good, fuck, you’re doing so good.” Half of her strap is buried in your ass. “I know, I know it hurts, but it’ll feel good soon.”

Once you give her the okay, her hips wildly slam into you, the hilt of her strap pressing against her clit and making her moan. The sound of moans and wet noises is all that can be heard, and if you weren’t so drunk on her cock, the thought of people hearing would have crossed your mind.

Abby’s hand snakes around your front, finding your clit and rubbing it, throwing you into an orgasm. You scream, your legs shaking and warm liquid splurting everywhere, drenching your thighs and Abby’s hand. Her hips stutter and still, moans stumbling out of her mouth as she comes. She flips your body around, your back hitting the table, and smashes her lips into yours. Your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her in deeper. 

She breaks the kiss, her chest heaving and face red. She slowly pulls the strap out of your ass, smirking when you start to cry from the pain. “Don’t be a big baby, wussy.”

You roll your eyes. Of course, the bully you know and hate is back. “You seemed to enjoy that a bit too much.”

Abby scoffs. “Nah, worst fuck in my life.”

You know, by the way she’s avoiding eye contact with you, that she’s lying, but you don’t press any further. You slide off the table, cringing at the wet feeling as you pull your pants back up. “So, you’ll drop out?”

Abby hums, fixing herself up. “I was dropping out regardless of what you said. Class president is such nerd shit. I can’t believe you would think I was genuinely running for that, stupid.”

Your mouth drops open. “Are you fucking kidding me? I just let you anal me in the goddamn janitor’s closet, and you’re telling me I didn’t have to?”

Abby smirks. “What? Are you saying that you didn’t absolutely love this dick?”

Your eyes sharpen, “Don’t say that like you didn’t just adore this ass.”

Abby doesn’t respond; instead, opening the door and holds it for you. If you weren’t so focused on looking at her face, you would have noticed her foot and avoided it, but you made the rookie mistake of thinking that Abby wasn’t going to be a jerk. 

You trip, grunting as you fall to your knees. Abby barks a laugh, smacking you on the head as she passes. “Such a fuckin’ loser.”

[suiana]

80s yandere bully and reader who's more than eager to show him what it means to be a student in the current age.

it starts out like any normal day. you're at your locker, scrolling social media because you have nothing better to do while your friend yaps to you. all seems well, until it isn't. why? because there, in the middle of the corridor, stands a guy that looks like he belongs in some Disney movie. to be specific, he would most likely be casted as the jock bully.

pale skin, blond hair, blue eyes that look like they're staring into your soul, and that red varsity jacket that shouts peaking at high school...

"hey nerd! why don't you hand me all your lunch money?"

pause.

you look up, one eyebrow raised. wow, even his voice sounds like some stereotypical disney bully. you look around, trying to find the hidden camera. none. this... this youtube prank is kinda well made, you've got to admit.

"uh... double it and give it to the next person."

yeah, that should do it. you go back to scrolling your phone, feeling satisfied in your answer. mhm, that's right, it's probably just some stupid prank anyway.

but all you got was a mocking laugh and a hand coming up to cage you by the locker.

"what? what nonsense are you spouting dummy? I'm asking for lunch money! why don't you hand it over?"

oh... it, uh, sounds like he's serious huh? you awkwardly scratch at your neck, placing your phone into your pocket. hm...

seeing him closely, he does have some scratches and bruises. ah, you see.

"look man, I don't have any cash on me right now. do you accept cashapp? paypal? apple pay? i can send some money over. i know times are tough right now, with the economy and stuff."

he must be poor, that's what you deducted obviously. i mean, lunch money? you feel bad for him, he seems to be suffering more than you.

but if anything, he looks almost offended?

"what?" he gets into your personal space, teeth bared at you. "are you taking me for some joke, nerd?"

"aren't you like, asking for money? I'll give it to you. gotta hit my daily good person quota for the month."

"you-!" he hisses at you, cheeks turning a light pink. you're confused, lips pursing. well, he seems... that he doesn't need money?

"well since you're so smart... why don't you do my homework for me?"

he then shoves a stack of papers at you, face desperately trying to hide the nervous quiver of his lip. damn it...! what's going on?! he knows he travelled into the future but... but he didn't expect this! this... this arrogance! no one would've stood up to him back in his time! what on earth is this?!

unfortunately it's only getting worse.

"dude just use chatgpt, I don't have the answers to these. matter of fact, I don't even take this class."

his jaw tightens.

"so? do it for me! if you don't... well I'll just publicly humiliate you tomorrow!"

a snort.

"kinky, I'm into that just so you know."

he lets out a frustrated groan. what the hell? just... just what is going on?! he's trying his best to intimidate this... this awfully adorable looking nerd but it's not working at all! not in the slightest!

he's using all his best tactics but it's no use in the face of you. just what the hell do you want him to do?

"you're lowkey kinda a loser and that's my type. you wanna date?"

he swears he feels his heart stop. a... loser? him? this 80s bully quickly looks around, trying to figure out if you're talking to someone else or him. no one. he feels that tight knot in his stomach relax. just... something about hearing you date someone else makes him uncomfortable. jealous.

isn't that weird? he just met you. is this love at first sight?

"don't you dare call me a loser you nerd!"

"sorry my man, you just act like one."

he shoots a glare at you, hands fisting. calm down, don't show them how much they affect you. he pushes away after clicking his tongue.

"urgh! just you wait! I'll be back to show you who's in charge, nerd!"

and then he stomps off, leaving a trail of papers in his wake. damn, did he even realize he was doing this in a public server? there's so many people around.

meanwhile you're just left there with one question.

"so are we dating?"

[randombush3]

DROGA

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Based on Droga - Mora, C. Tangana

I apologise for any whiplash experienced while reading this x

[…]

The sea breeze whispers through the open doors of Alexia’s room in this year’s off-season villa, curtains billowing as though they are gently signalling her to get on with her day.

She groans when she wakes up alone.

She hasn’t yet grown accustomed to that.

With groggy eyes and blurred thoughts, as she sits up, the only thing that comes to mind is you. Last year. Italy and beautiful memories in that suite. A balcony that wasn’t as private as you had decided.

She smiles. She frowns.

If it were up to her, she’d do it all again. “Fuck Ibiza,” she’d say, and book somewhere for the two of you. She would get to know you once more, close the chasm that ruptured your relationship.

“Alexia!” Someone is shouting her name from outside. Probably Jenni, already in a bikini, halfway to drunkenness despite the sun still lingering in the east. “Alexia-a!”

“¿Qué quieres?” she barks back, wincing at the tension in her tone. She told herself she would be cool. Adaptable. Even if the roof has been blown off her house of love and only the skeleton is left.

Alexia shakes her limbs as though the pricks on her insides will disappear. Methodically, she prepares herself to have fun. She will have fun. She’s fine.

Jenni and Leila. It’s Jenni and Leila who ruin her mood.

As she has already reassured herself, she’s fine. But now she’s drunk. And she’s thinking — thinking about things. You, mostly. What happened. How it was entirely accidental on her part.

She didn’t give you her heart. It was a robbery. Stolen by smashing down walls and sweet-talking her into staying the night and going on dates and falling love. Alexia didn’t do love before you. Drunk-Alexia declares to Jenni and Leila that she will not be doing love after you, either.

“You’re still in love with her,” Leila says, eyes glistening under the warm string-lights draped across the imaginary walls of the villa’s patio. Her smile is encouraging. Satisfied.

Alexia is shaking her head. “But if I saw her with someone else”—she’s still disagreeing at this point—”I’d make a scene.”

“Oh, surprise, surprise,” Jenni drawls.

The laughter comprises of only two voices.

Much later, when drunk-Alexia has forced water down her throat and, when that didn’t quite fix her wobbling vision and hazy bad ideas, two fingers, she stumbles into the bed she commenced this miserable day in. Still alone. Still fine.

Still tossing and turning as if she might replicate the feeling of your body beside hers.

Still talking to herself, because her thoughts don’t quiet even though she has no one to share them with.

When Jenni shouts at her from the next room (“SHUT UP, ALE!”), she accepts the prompt to embark on her next step to bring herself closer to sleep.

Alexia, who scoffed at deep-breathing during her recovery and despises the inertia of yoga, meditates.

And it doesn’t fucking work.

Perdona la hora

It’s the first text she has sent you in three weeks. Perhaps it is pathetic that she hasn’t even lasted a month without you.

You read the message instantly.

You don’t reply. She doesn’t really know what to say past sorry.

The pain doesn’t get better. Alexia considers investing in pharmaceuticals — only some miracle drug could fix this.

You’re driving her wild and you’re not even here. No, you left. The absence is felt.

Your lingering presence is loathed.

Three dots appear as she continues to stare at the violation of post-break-up etiquette she couldn’t help but resign to.

Hola…

You must have spent a long time thinking about what to say. She’s comforted by the idea of you struggling just as much as she is. She is obviously more fine than you. So she’s winning. Even if she didn’t get a choice to participate in this competition.

Ibiza passes then. Almost in the blink of an eye.

On the final night, they get her drunk again and she calls you. “Try it with me again, even if it doesn’t last long.” She’s begging. She never does that.

“Alexia,” you warn. Your voice is hoarse. She must be upsetting you.

“I don’t want to look for you in other people,” she confesses.

You close your eyes.

“Please don’t say that.”

“But I mean it.”

“She means it,” chimes in an equally-hammered Leila.

You wince at how your ex’s friends are mocking her. You wince again when you catch yourself pitying your ex.

“Venga, vale.” Oh, that sounds like Jenni, although her tone is unusually responsible. “Say sorry for the late call, Ale.” You catch a murmured apology down the line.

“It’s fine, Jenni.”

Jenni chuckles, but this is separate from anything else you’ve been subjected to for the past twenty minutes.

“Have a nice evening,” she replies.

You’re free after that. Lying alone in your bedroom, boxes packed up and stacked in the corner. The ceiling is dull and grainy as your eyes slowly lose focus. You will yourself to sleep but the aching in your chest won’t let you float away.

In a month’s time, you will no longer feel this way. You’ll be somewhere else — somewhere free and new and exciting. You’ll meet someone else.

You solidify the mantra in your mind. You march around Barcelona with the promise silently playing on repeat. Your final days in the city are carried out with the enthusiasm of a dilapidated merry-go-round.

“You’re a pessimist,” is what your best-friend labels you as she chains you to her on her overly extensive shopping trip. “Or a nihilist.”

“I just no longer give a fuck.”

Her lips press tightly together. Then she looks you up and down.

“Mhm.” It’s not a sound that a convinced person would make. “You know, you’re allowed to admit you’re sad.”

“I’m the one who wanted it,” you protest. You’re not sure why you are arguing.

“I mean…” She trails off and doesn’t finish her sentence. You glare.

You know what she wants to say.

“Go on.”

“No, no,” she insists with a smirk. Perhaps this is a trap.

“No. Say what you wanted to say.”

Your firmness makes her laugh. Ridiculed, you turn your back and bless a rack of linens with your attention instead. She can fuck off with her truths and assumptions and oddly perceptive advice.

“She’s angry,” says Alba at the dinner table, fingers rubbing the dents in the wood she herself had made as a child in this very house.

Alexia looks up from her plate. Her mother has been alert to this impending topic since they all sat down for dinner, but she delays her intervention, awaiting a response from her eldest child.

The women hear a loud gulp. “How do you know that?” It’s sharp. Cutting. Alexia’s investment is poorly veiled.

“I saw her the other day. With a woman.”

“What did she look like?”

Alba thinks for a moment, trying to recollect details that really were just meant to provoke. She probably should have expected an interrogation so that’s on her. When she remembers, she says, “brunette. Small. Pija, I don’t know.”

“Her friend.”

Alba raises an eyebrow at her sister’s firmness. “Anyway, yeah. I saw her with her friend or whatever. She looked bummed the fuck out. And kind of… bored.”

“Sad and bored?” Alexia could jump for joy at this very moment.

She’s so winning.

She doesn't need to invent a drug because maybe you’ll do it before her.

You performed some kind of witchcraft on her, she has concluded in recent days; you put a spell on her. Perhaps you had read about it. You were always reading.

You remind her of a dog who always runs away but goes straight home when it is finally set free.

She should resent it, but she feels mildly inclined to remind you what it feels like to be close to each other. Plus, she’s not sure anything else will blunt the knife piercing through her chest.

Perdona la hora

Her teeth sink into her lip as she sees her message go through.

Otra vez, she adds.

She imagines you must be more reluctant to read it now that you have no certainty regarding her alcohol intake.

Hola Alexia

Something like disappointment settles in her gut.

K quieres?

Alexia signed her way into this without reading the small print.

No sé — typed out hesitantly.

Three dots appear. It’s as if you can see her burning alive and are finding even more cans of fuel to douse her in.

Your response is a statement. A deflection.

You called me

Alexia could make a thousand excuses. She settles on ‘I was drunk’. She cannot bring herself to explain the truth.

You begged, you text back, instantly. You said “try it with me again”

This could be an addiction. She’s never satisfied. She never will be — not when it comes to you.

Well I still mean it.

You take a long time to even start typing. She rolls over onto her side, tucking her elbows into her stomach and bringing her phone closer, as if examining it with care will provide solutions for unspoken problems.

You left without saying goodbye: Alexia wants to say that, to send the message she has already typed out. It’s hardly productive but it means a lot to her. If you knew the impact your stupid fucking breakup text has had on her life this last month… well, maybe you’d at least grant her the mercy of no longer replying to her.

Alexia doesn’t even know why the hell she’s texting you right now in the first place.

You type. You stop. You restart.

You bite your lip and kick at your duvet, suddenly far too hot under the covers.

You sigh and you delete a word.

You type some more.

You take a deep breath.

Then come here.

You both know that she will.

[luveline]

Hii jade idk if this is something you would be into but ive been reading all of ur hotch fics that include a relationship with jack and reader and i was wondering if you would be interested in writing for a hotch and ex!reader fic, where reader and jack have a really really close relationship and hotch even depends on her to look after him at times if necessary. I was thinking she comes to pick up jack at the office and everyone is like we didnt know you were seeing someone???? And hes like im not but theres very obvious tension and heart eyes being shared between the two.

thank you for requesting ❤︎ fem, 2k words

You don’t see any of the BAU agents that you’d recognise in the office today, but it's alright, ‘cos you’ve spotted your boy. Jack Hotchner sits at a crowded desk that could only be Spencer’s with a glass of water held in both hands. He tips it up, drinking feverishly, a stream of it dripping down his front to wet his raglan t-shirt. 

You haven’t come by the office in a long time. Not since you and Aaron were dating, it must’ve been a year ago or more the last time you made it up for a rare lunch date. It had been quiet, then, his new agent Emily sent with Spencer to do some work with their tech girl. You’d smiled at Derek on the way in, you remember. Laughed at his joke about your ring finger looking a little light. 

You hide your hands behind your back. “Oh, hey, sweet boy,” you say, your voice carrying. You’ve no need for false cheer —it’s been too long since you saw Jack. You have no excuses. 

His head comes up at the sound of your voice. When he finds you making your way to the desks, he slides his cup down over the table and slips from his chair, unspeaking as he crosses the room to fling himself at your thighs. 

You bend down to kiss his hair. “Hi,” you say, kissing it again. Two quick ones. “Hi, Jack.” 

“Hi,” he says, matching your quiet tone. He feels trembly and strange in your arms, like he’s shaking. 

“Hi.” You loop your arms around his shoulders. He’s slender as a bird, but taller than the last time you’d hugged him. The silence drags, Jack’s hands screwed into fists in your jeans. “Sorry it’s been so long since I last saw you,” you whisper, for his ears alone, “I didn’t mean to get so busy.”

“Everyone is busy.”

“I know. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you.” 

Pleased with this, Jack pulls away from you, and when he speaks he’s regained some of his volume, “Dad said I can stay with you for a sleepover only if you want me to.” 

“I want you to.” 

He beams. Offering a hand for the taking, Jack pulls you to Spencer’s desk and retrieves his blue backpack from the chair, its front a bright plastic print of SpongeBob and Patrick. He makes you take it, and you swing it over your shoulder. 

“Let’s go,” he says. 

“Wait a second, you gotta go up and say bye to your dad.” You wish you could send him up alone, dread a solid rock in your tummy that shifts to hurt with every breath. “Come on, lead the way.” 

As you’re going, Emily and Rossi catch sight of you on their way back from the kitchen. “Who’s that?” Emily asks, to which Rossi says, “How should I know?”

“You know who she looks like? Hotch has that photo on his lock screen…” 

You miss the conversation that begins between them, a step behind Jack as he enters Aaron’s office without knocking. His dad quickly looks up from his laptop and gives the phone by his ear a readjustment. “I’ll call you back,” he promises, putting it down. 

Something cruel twists around in your gut wondering who it is. Could be anybody. Just as easily a colleague as a friend as a new girl. 

“Dad, we’re going.” 

Aaron stands from his chair. “Thank you,” he says to you, so obviously stuck as to what to say next that anger pricks the back of your neck. You swallow every last bit of it down. 

“I told you whenever you need me to, didn’t I?” You get a look at him. Eyebags darker than ever, he’s skinny, tired, everything you hate to see. “Are you taking care of yourself?” 

Where you’d expected to see anger, regret colours Aaron’s stance. He holds the back of his chair and sighs. “Of course I am.” 

You cross an arm over your stomach. That morning, getting dressed, you’d decided to wear something that might make him want you back, even though you know he wants you back. Something that might make him braver, then. Or kinder, more agreeable to what you need. You’re wearing the silver chain he bought you, just so he knows you still have it, over a leather-type jacket and his favourite pair of jeans. It felt good at the time and childish now, because he’s not doing any better without you, and you miss him so much you might fold first. 

“He asked to stay the night. What time do you want me to bring him back?” you ask. 

“What time were you thinking?” 

You let Jack drift into your hip. His small nose is surprisingly pointy. “I’d keep him forever if I could.” 

The stumble in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed. He smiles weakly. “Yeah, I know. You’re good that way.” 

Jack tips his head back to force your gaze on him, “Yeah, ‘cos dad says you’re good as gold.” 

Your smile wavers. “Does he?” you ask carefully. 

Aaron used to tell you that sort of stuff all the time. He had a way of picking a turn of phrase that you miss. He loved that one especially in his softest moments, tear stained and sniffling against him or smiling at something he’d said, he’d declare it, like everybody should’ve known it too. You’re good, he’d say, caressing your cheek, you’re as good as gold, honey. 

“Why don’t we say midday, honey?” 

“Okay.” You try not to give your own sermon on the way he uses the pet name, but it’s no use. He says honey like it’s yours, doesn’t matter that the last time you saw him you told him he doesn’t get to say he loves you, what use was that, any of it, when he wouldn’t step up to the plate. 

Listen, it’s not that you need to get married. There’s a part of you that thinks marriage is special, and there’s a part of you that knows it’s a license rather than any solid proof of things, but what you needed most from Aaron was commitment. Even if he promised it once out loud that you were permanent, and that he was going to be careful. But you’d asked and he’d hesitated and your reconciliation is about as near as a lily flower is to the arctic circle. 

“Jack, can you give us two minutes?” you ask, holding up two fingers. 

Jack looks out the door. “Can I go see JJ?” 

“Sure, sweetheart,” Aaron says, “come and give me a hug, okay? We’ll say bye now.” 

Jack does his flinging thing and ends up pulled to Aaron’s stomach. Rough hands spread over a short back, dulcet murmuring of love yous and miss yous lost in blonde hair. 

Jack leaves. Aaron is glad you’ve asked for time alone, it couldn’t be more obvious, with or without his training in psychic evaluation. You decide tiredly to take a seat in front of his desk, waiting for him to sit himself before you offer any more to him. 

He grips the edge of his desk between his finger and thumb.

“I didn’t mean to ignore your call,” you confess. Calls.  

He nods. 

“I was sleeping. Then…” 

“You don’t have to explain.” 

“I don’t want you to think I don’t want  to be with you, Aaron,” you say, careful again. “I want it a lot. And I’m angry with you because you don’t want it like I do.”

“You know I want that, too.”

“You don’t, though. I told you, either you start to look after yourself, or I go. And you aren’t looking any better.” 

“Well, missing you does this to me.” 

He says it with a sincerity that has you wincing.

“Don’t say it like that, like I’m making it worse,” you say, nearly glaring, “I’m trying to fix it. You work all the time and I thought I could understand it, but it’s not about missing you, it’s literally that you expect me to sit at home watching you work yourself to death, while Jack–” You cut yourself off short. Take a deep breath. “Sorry. I know you aren’t hurting Jack. Aren’t trying to hurt Jack, but...” 

Your murmuring sets off his own, “You can be angry with me, I deserve it.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this. You own up to your mistakes but you don’t change. I can’t– I don’t even know what this is, but I can’t do it forever. I need you to…” You stare down at your lap. “Need you to fix this.” 

“I’m–” He bites his tongue. Then opens his mouth, speechless for a time. “I will. I’ll fix it.” 

“Will you?”

“I’ll fix it.”

You feel like you could fall to pieces in his arms, but you need him to do what he’s promising you, and crying while he rubs your back won’t help. “I’m so angry at you,” you say.

“I know.” 

You want him to say he loves you. He braces his hand on the desk.

In the bullpen, JJ holds Jack on her hip and tries to direct his attention to her, while the rest of the team turn their ears to the open door, listening. 

“Not his girlfriend, then?” Emily asks. 

Aaron moves toward you. Through the window, they watch as he chucks you gently under the chin. You move your face from his touch, speaking too quietly to hear from down here. 

“Are they fighting?” Jack mumbles. 

“No, honey, they’re not fighting, just talking.” 

“I’m going with her to sleep there,” he says. “For a sleepover. Dad said so.”

“Wow! What are you gonna do at the sleepover?” 

(It’s brave of Aaron to try and touch you when you’re divided. You’re both being brave. You’re honest with him. Anyone looking at you both can see how badly you want to give in, which makes it tough to watch as you stand and gather yourself away from him.) 

Your smile is shaky as you descend the steps from the landing, but it strengthens when Jack perks up. 

“Hi,” you say, greeting the agents that have circled around him with some renewed timidity. “Ready to go, baby?” 

“Can I say bye to dad again?” he asks. 

JJ sets him down. “As many times as you want,” you promise. 

Jack rushes back to his dads office. You watch as he trips over himself, and as Aaron comes to meet him by the door for a hug that turns meandering. 

“Be good, okay? And remember what we talked about, yeah?” He strokes his hair back to meet Jack’s eye. 

“What did we talk about?” 

“That she’s not mad at you, Jack. Only me. Okay?”

You wish you could hate him, but all you have is love and the urge to block his number. At least you get a night with your boy, sweet as he is.

Aaron catches your eye from above. His wan face fills with a determination that has your heart in a tumble —it feels like a promise, like the next time Jack comes to stay, he could come with him. All Aaron has to do is take a break. 

(You take Jack’s hand again and lead him out of the offices, and Aaron dials Strauss’ number. He’s not stupid enough to think that a month of vacation days can fix the things that are hurting you, nor could the simple promise ring with the pear-drop diamond that sits hiding in his desk, but he has to start somewhere, and he has to start now.)

(In the car, Jack asks if you’ll be coming home soon. You’re brave enough to tell him any day now.) 

[grandwretch]

okay okay okay sequel to this post I wrote forever ago about Steve sabotaging Eddie's dates and Eddie being oblivious about it

Steve is about to give up. Like, he's been doing this for months now-- He honestly didn't think Eddie and Amelia would last this long; who stays with their first ever girlfriend for more than three months? But their fourth anniversary is quickly approaching and Steve can't help but feel sad and pathetic about the whole scheme.

He tells Robin as much and she looks at him with obvious disappointment. "You can't give up when it's just about to work, dingus. Commit to your homewrecking." Max agrees, when he tells the kids to leave Eddie and Amelia alone on Friday night-- The boys haven't figured out why Steve is set on ruining Amelia's life, just happy to try and get their DM back, but Max and El have. Steve is pretty sure that El is already planning the Steve-and-Eddie wedding: no one has had the heart to tell her it's illegal yet.

Despite their advice, Steve is determined to stay out of it. Stay home and nurse his broken heart and let Eddie be happy. If anyone deserves the kind of love that they have in movies, it's Eddie, and Amelia can give that to him in a way Steve can't. Safety and acceptance and babies and white weddings. Steve can let him have that. Steve wants him to have that.

until 7:30 pm on Friday night.

"One last try, and then I'm done," Steve promises over the phone. Max cackles, like she knows he's lying.

When they blow into the diner like they own the place, kids chattering and yelling and laughing, Steve sees Eddie and Amelia before they see him-- Amelia already looks upset, a look that is increasingly becoming familiar on her face. But Eddie is frowning, too-- his face is crumpled and so obviously upset that it makes Steve's heart thump dangerously in his chest.

His plan was always to break them up, but but if Amelia made Eddie cry, then Steve would actually have to dedicate the rest of his life to ruining her's.

To Steve's relief, when Eddie looks up and sees the kids, he smiles. Lights up from the inside, that joy that Steve cherishes so much is shining out of him. His eyes scan across the diner-- looking for him, Steve realizes with a thrill --and his grin grows when he sees his friends.

Sees Steve.

"Stevie!" he crows, hands flailing. " What the hell are you doing here?" Like Steve hadn't been on every one of his dates for the last four months.

When Steve drops into the booth next to Eddie, ignoring Amelia's glare, saying some bullshit he can't even hear himself spout, Eddie's eyes are still locked on him.

"I haven't seen you all week," Eddie says gently, and his hand cups the back of Steve's neck. Steve's on fire immediately, like he has been since the first time his hand rested there. "I didn't think I'd see you tonight."

"You know me," Steve says, watching the grin shift on Eddie's lips. "I'm where the party's at."

"You have to be fucking kidding me," Amelia says. Neither of them look at her.

[yuurivoice]

Finn selling his shop in the city to run off w Sunflower to live in a lil cottage in a small town and build a life w them is nothing short if not more than poetic- props to you, my guy ✨ tbh I was getting the vibes that he was going to propose with how much he was spilling his heart out lol

Honestly after all of this I've accepted that if there ever was a canonical marriage event in the big narrative series, it would probably be Garden Variety Finn. It felt like it, even considered reallyyy teasing it but didn't want to disappoint anyone with a bait and switch. I would have giggled about it because I think the moving in thing is a big deal on that kind of level, but risking it wasn't worth it.

But they're very serious, obviously. The "our cottage" deal was the big green light in that regard.

[alicelillianshaw]

'Alice…'

Jack's brows knit together, and there's a strange swooping sensation in Alice's stomach. Not fear. Not apprehension. Nothing like that, but Alice still found herself searching his face intently, attempting to read whatever letters and words might be woven within his expression.

Obviously— she'd just shared a lot. They'd known each other for less than a week, and here Alice was, wanting to publish a piece in the fucking New Yorker about her feelings for him! That was a massive step even for a one year relationship. And for someone who had met four days ago? It almost sounded like lunacy.

But Jack.

Well.

What was convention? What were standards and rules and customary steps between two people flung at each other

Jack was Jack! Jack didn't hesitate. Jack matched her, and then set the pace. He was bold, and he was affectionate, and he was beautiful, and he didn't make Alice feel silly or delusional for anything that she said. The connection was there— they both were happy to acknowledge it. When Alice had spilled the ugly parts of herself, cried across from him, Jack had caught each tear. He'd assured Alice that every version of her— even that twisted, ugly part of her in college— was someone he wanted to be around.

But the way he was looking at Alice— she couldn't quite parse it. Curiosity burned within her, and she found herself pressing against him more, a gentle lean seeking the heat and solidity of him.

And then–

'Can you get out?'

Hu— oh. Oh. That wasn't even directed at her. Alice, confused, watches as the driver's eyes flick back up in Jack's direction.

'Sorry. Can we have some space?'

Oh. Space? Space! Alice blinks, hard, smiling a little in what she hopes is encouragement, because, well. What could Jack have to say to her after all that? After that proverbial gush of words, pledge of affections, voicing her desire to let the whole fucking world what she felt for him.

Maybe— that was too much? Maybe he wanted to reel it back a bit, except, well, no. No. No, Alice had seen the look on Jack's face, and she knew Jack and his personality and she didn't think this would startle him. He was an all-in sort of man. Whatever Jack had to say ... Alice would be alright with. They were alright. Her and Jack's hearts had brushed, melded, in a singular way, and she knew what flickered between them was intense. His eyes— cast into an exquisite Prussian shade of blue in the dark light of the car— finally raise to meet hers.

Oh. Oh. And there was something there that made her want to sink into him.

'Alice... I love you very much.'

An explosion of thunder— a summer cell that shook windows. A wave slapping against black sheets of rock in Oahu. Snow whispering through the trees where Alice had camped near Alberta. The trill of a Canyon Wren at her old house; the gentle whistle that woke her every summer. A million, billion different sensations and sounds flood through her brain, the glories of life and nature, big and small, and yet somehow none of these things sound even remotely as remarkable as the words that spill from Jack's mouth.

Not even close.

She even blinks, to process it, to make sure she's heard right.

He loves her.

Jack— the man across from her— loves Alice very much.

What a big miracle, in such a very short amount of time.

Alice grabs his other free hand.

"I love you."

"I think I love you more than I ever loved anything."

A breath, because Alice may pass out with how wonderful and mystified she feels, that Jack, remarkable Jack who can get thousands of people to adore him— sees Alice, and after four days decides he loves her.

Her smile is wobbly and wild.

"—Fucking thank you, by the way, because I was trying to work out when to get that in there, I know I just dropped a lot on you at once so I didn't want to overwhelm you, but—"

Alice squeezes his hands.

"Do you know how happy I am you love me?"

Relief washed over Jack like the first drop of rain after a six month long drought. Hearing Alice admit that she didn't want to go either. Couldn't she just stay? Forever? Yes, Jack was saying forever after four days. It didn't matter. Nothing did. Because it occurred to Jack that rules didn't exist for these types of things.

His relationship to Sophia had lasted nearly two years, including the one year of marriage, and that hadn't worked out for him. Jack had never been so happy to get divorced now. Because here was Alice, a stranger (but not really, not at all), telling Jack that she just couldn't stop writing about him. A dozen paragraphs about the waterfall.

Alice assured Jack that she didn't want to make anything worse — his public image, and she leaned in to kiss him in between her words, before continuing: she was excited about the way she felt for him, and she wanted the world to know.

Jack exhaled, and a strange wave of emotion passed over his eyes. He swallowed, stared down at her knuckles. She wanted the world to know how she felt about Jack. It was a public declaration of love, and Jack couldn't wrap his head around that. Jack had criminal charges pending. She'd walked in on him snorting an obscene amount of cocaine earlier that evening. She didn't know about the pills in his luggage, or the other skeletons in his closet.

Did he deserve it? It felt like he didn't, but he was working very hard to earn it.

"I think it's easy because of the person you are." 

The person that he was. Is.

Jack would've walked over a thousand miles of broken glass if it meant that Alice was waiting for him at the end.

Jack would've walked over a thousand miles of broken glass if it meant he got to read just a single line of poetry from Alice.

Despite what she'd seen earlier that day, Alice wanted to share her feelings for Jack to the world.

"Alice…"

His brows were furrowed, and he realized that maybe he was gripping her fingers a little too hard. He relaxed, soothing whatever discomfort he'd caused with a brush of his thumb, again and again.

They weren't far from the airport now. Just a few turns away. And he felt the faint vibration of his phone. Notifications, maybe, that the plane was ready to go, or that there was a delay. He didn't care. He didn't care whenever Alice was telling him all of these things that he didn't deserve. Things that made him feel dizzy.

Words that charmed him. Words that made Jack feel like the most important man in the world. Words that made Jack feel so loved.

Purpose. Alice gave Jack purpose, and he felt like it was to love her for the rest of his days. Little by little, Alice was picking up all of the broken, damaged bits of Jack. She was smoothing them out, gluing them back together until he felt brand new again. She was doing the impossible. Alice and her hands — did she know she performed miracles with them?

The car came to an abrupt stop. He looked up, and there was the plane. He wasn't sure how long he'd been staring at her hands for. Maybe a few seconds. Minutes. He wasn't sure. Jack swallowed, before finally looking at Craig. His driver of many, many years.

Craig who kept a secret better than anyone else on his staff. Craig, who'd heard some pretty cruel and damaging arguments with his ex-wife, and there were never any leaks. Jack trusted the man, but it didn't stop Jack from blurting something out.

"Can you get out?"

It took Craig an awkward silence to register that Jack was talking to him. Jack realized the bluntness of his request, and added:

"Sorry. Can we have some space?"

Craig dismissed himself pretty quickly. The driver's side door shut, and Jack remained silent because he didn't know what to say to Alice. Well, he knew what to say, but it had only been four days. But Jack reminded himself: there were no rules for this. He went back to staring at her hands, and more time passed, but Jack wasn't sure how long.

It was the good kind of silence. Comfortable and soothing. He hoped that he hadn't worried Alice with his rash behavior, and the quiet that followed. He was just … cherishing the moment because everything was about to change.

There weren't any rules. Jack wanted to tell Alice that he was grateful to have met her, that she'd changed his life. He wanted to tell Alice that he wouldn't have changed anything that happened in the last six months. It led them to this very moment. But the words fell short. He wasn't a poet.

Jack was always a fan of keeping things simple — in the moment. No thought, just action. He finally looked into Alice's eyes.

"Alice... I love you very much."

[maincharactermuse]

The one where Harry gets her number. (5)

Y/N stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. She spotted Harry chatting with Lucía by the counter and grinned.

“Oi, what’s all this then? Plotting how to survive the next wave of caffeine addicts?” she teased.

Harry smiled, eyes lighting up when they met hers. “Just getting some survival tips from the pros.”

Lucía laughed. “Yeah, Y/N’s basically the queen of this chaos.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled, walking over to update the chalkboard specials outside. The morning air was cool and quiet; the street almost empty.

Harry stepped outside, coffee in hand, and found Y/N updating the chalkboard in the soft morning light. The street was quiet, almost peaceful.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching her chalk neat letters with focused care.

“You know,” he said, voice low enough to be almost private, “I was thinking… it’s not just the coffee that keeps me coming back.”

Y/N glanced up, arching an eyebrow, a teasing smile curling her lips. “Oh really? And what’s that?”

Harry shrugged, smiling gently. “Company, I guess. You make this place feel… different.”

She laughed softly. “Well, it’s not just me. Ryan keeps things lively, and Toby’s the calm in the storm.”

He nodded, then after a brief pause, added, “So, if I needed some emergency caffeine advice-”

Y/N turned fully to him, playfully waiting for the catch.

“-Would it be okay if I had your number?” he finished, voice a little quieter, more vulnerable.

She grinned, heart skipping. “Emergency consultations, huh? I could be persuaded.”

She quickly scribbled her number on a napkin and handed it to him. “Don’t lose it.”

Harry smiled warmly, tucking it away. “Never.”

Later, Y/N stepped back inside, humming to herself as “Watermelon Sugar” played from the speakers. She caught sight of Ryan leaning casually on the counter, coffee in hand, smirking.

“So, you give the guy your number and you’re already singing his songs?”

Y/N blinked, confused. “What are you on about?”

Ryan chuckled, leaning on the counter. “Honey, you’ve been chatting with Harry Styles. THAT Harry Styles.”

Her face drained color. “Wait, what? No. No, that can’t be right. I didn’t realize.”

Ryan laughed harder. “Welcome to the club. You’ve been flirting with a superstar, and you had no clue.”

Y/N ran a hand through her hair, mortified but trying to laugh it off. “Does he know that I don’t know? Does he think I know? Why didn’t I connect the dots? Should I know? Should I not know? I’m not online enough!”

Ryan grinned, taking a sip of his coffee. “Well, you’re in deep now, love.”

———————————————————————————

group chat: the coven 🔮

Y/N

guys. emergency. please respond immediately. 🚨

Noor

oh no

what happened

did a customer yell or did you finally burn the sourdough 😅

Grace

is this a real emergency or a “I made eye contact with a man and now I live in a Regency novel” emergency

Y/N

NO THIS IS REAL

okay

remember Harry?? the 56/10 guy??

who always comes in for coffee ???

Noor

yes?

obviously.

have you eloped 😘

Grace

did he finally ask for your number??

wait you didn’t send a pic you criminal

Y/N

yes he did ask for my number

AND I GAVE IT TO HIM

AND THEN

RYAN

decides to let me know AFTER he left

that he is

harry. styles.

Grace

wait what

WHAT

Noor

wait

like THE harry styles?

like watermelon sugar, silk shirts, arena tour, that harry styles??

Y/N

YES

I’VE BEEN FLIRTING WITH HARRY STYLES

AND I HAD NO IDEA 💀

I THOUGHT HE WAS JUST A REALLY HOT MAN WHO LIKED FLAT WHITES AND SPOKE POLITELY

Grace

OH MY GOD

YOU ABSOLUTE LEGEND

I’M SO PROUD 🥹

Noor

wait wait wait

do you feel differently now?

or just like

holy shit how did I not see it?

Y/N

I feel exactly the same about him

I just feel like a moron

how did I not realise??

he literally smiled and I was like “wow you have such kind eyes” LIKE HE’S NOT BEEN FAMOUS FOR TEN YEARS

Grace

you liked him before you connected the dots

which is actually kind of amazing

no one gets to do that with someone like him

Noor

yeah?? and you weren’t weird about it or starstruck

you were just you

and he clearly liked that!

Y/N

I’m not like

worried about him

I just

I don’t want him to think I’m pretending

like, oh nooo I didn’t knooow

I genuinely had no clue

I work 50 hours a week and don’t have time to go down Instagram rabbit holes

Grace

babe

that’s literally why he likes you

he probably finds it refreshing

also hilarious

and slightly chaotic, which is on brand for you

Noor

so what now???

has he texted yet?? 👀

Y/N

not yet

but like

what do I even say??

“hi sorry for not knowing who you are, your coffee’s still mid but you’re cute”?

Grace

I mean… honestly? not a bad draft

Noor

just be honest

you liked him without the name

he clearly liked you right back

you’re not changing now

Y/N

ugh. okay

if he texts

you’ll both get the live play-by-play

but if I die of embarrassment

you are not allowed to put “she gave Harry Styles her number and then combusted” on my tombstone

Grace

no promises

love you x

Noor

this is already my favorite romcom and it’s only act one 🥰

———————————————————————————

Later that evening, Y/N’s phone buzzed with a simple message:

“Hey, it’s Harry.”

Y/N stared at the message.

Just “Hey, it’s Harry.”

Simple. Chill. Like he wasn’t Harry Styles. Like he wasn’t someone who’d just rocked her entire sense of reality that afternoon.

After a few seconds (okay, minutes), she replied:

Y/N

hey, barista’s emergency caffeine consultant. what’s the situation? milk frother down again?

A pause. Then:

Harry

No frother emergencies. Just thought I’d say hi.

Also, wanted to thank you. For the coffee. And… everything else.

She smiled, rolling over onto her stomach on the couch, kicking her feet a little like a teenager.

Y/N

well, anytime. i mean, not anytime, we close at six most days lol.

but you know. mostly.

Another bubble appeared.

Harry

You’re something else, you know that?

Her stomach flipped. She bit her lip and hesitated, then typed quickly:

Y/N

so, um. i kind of figured out who you are.

not that it matters, just. fyi.

but that’s not why i gave you my number or anything.

i actually like you.

as in, you you.

shit.

Her eyes widened as the last message sent. Panic set in.

Y/N

oh my god. how do you delete a message.

i can’t believe i just told you that. i’m crawling into a bin right now goodbye. 👋🏼

Three dots.

Then they disappeared.

Then reappeared.

Then, her phone rang.

She answered without thinking. “Hello?”

His voice, warm and amused, “A bin? Really?”

Y/N buried her face in her pillow and groaned. “Yes. I’m never showing my face in that café again. Please send my apologies to Ryan and Jules.”

Harry chuckled. “I’m glad you sent it. The message, not the bin part.”

She peeked out from under the pillow, cheeks burning. “You are?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Because I like you you, too. The one who makes really good coffee and has chalk on her jeans and didn’t recognise me for weeks.”

She let out a soft laugh, heart thudding in her chest. “Well, mystery solved. You’re charming and famous. Bit unfair, don’t you think?”

He teased, “Would it help if I admitted I’ve had a bit of food on my face all day and no one told me?”

“Maybe,” she grinned. “A little.”

They kept talking. About nothing and everything. Her favourite coffee blend. His terrible attempt at banana bread once. Her plans to repaint the chairs at the café. His upcoming travels.

When they finally hung up, over thirty minutes had passed, and Y/N’s cheeks hurt from smiling.

As she plugged in her phone to charge, another text came through:

Harry

sweet dreams.

She stared at it for a moment, hugged her pillow, and whispered to the dark room, “fuck.”

_________________________________________________

Y/N

hey, it’s me

(y/n)

from the café

not like, a different me. just. me.

wow this is going well already

Harry

Hi, you

I know it’s you

Y/N

ok good

wasn’t sure if I needed to clarify

you probably know a lot of “me’s”

Harry

Only one who hands me coffee with that look on her face when I ask for an extra shot

bit judgy. bit fond.

memorable.

Y/N

it’s called responsible caffeine guidance

i’m basically a public service

Harry

I feel very taken care of

even if you did roll your eyes at my pastry order

Y/N

you ordered lemon tart with an americano

that’s unhinged behavior

Harry

And yet, here you are texting me

what does that say about you?

Y/N

that I have poor judgment?

or impeccable taste?

jury’s out

Harry

I’m leaning toward impeccable

Y/N

hm

dangerous answer

might encourage me

Harry

I was hoping it would

———————————————————————————

Y/N

[sends meme of a cartoon character dramatically collapsing with a caption that says:

“me after 1 (one) mildly stressful thing”]

this felt too real today.

i’m currently horizontal and emotionally unavailable to my inbox.

Harry

That’s a very dramatic cartoon collapse

are you okay?

Y/N

lol yes

just tired. café was chaos. ryan broke the till, lucia spilled oat milk, i almost cried over biscotti

you know. normal day

Harry

Sounds intense

I came in just after the storm then?

Y/N

you were the eye of the storm, probably

quiet. oddly calm.

nice shoes

Harry

Thank you

You looked…

busy

focused

like you were keeping ten things in your head but still remembered mine was a flat white with an extra shot

and you smiled

tiny, but it was there

Y/N

…

okay now i’m blushing and it’s your fault

Harry

that’s a good look on you

(not that I saw it)

(just imagining)

Y/N

dangerous

Harry

encouraging

———————————————————————————

Y/N

made a coffee this morning that actually tasted decent

miracles do happen apparently

Harry

was it missing your usual signature flair?

you know, the cinnamon and mild chaos

Y/N

excuse me, my chaos is artisanal

Harry

I stand corrected. hand-whipped and sustainably sourced, I’m sure

Y/N

exactly

i’m basically a walking small batch

Harry

figured as much

you looked very small-batch this morning, by the way

Y/N

…thanks?

Harry

it’s a compliment

you were glowing

Y/N

that was sweat

but i appreciate the poetry

Harry

sweat and charm, clearly

dangerous combo

Y/N

lol noted

next time i’ll try to tone down the threat level

———————————————————————————

group chat: the coven 🔮

Y/N

[photo screenshot of texts with Harry]

ok can someone tell me what this means before i overanalyze it for the next six hours

Noor

girl. GIRL.

Grace

you’re joking right???

“you were glowing”??

he is FLIRTING.

Noor

capital F

like actually

like he LIKES you

Y/N

okay but what if he’s just like

polite

Grace

polite??? BABY

he called you a dangerous combo

that’s not manners

that’s interest

Noor

just admit he’s got a crush

and maybe let yourself have a little crush back

we’ve SEEN the man

Y/N

okay fine

maybe

a small crush

very small

microbatch

Grace

shut up omg

———————————————————————————

Harry

Did I scare you off?

Too much artisanal chaos talk?

[delivered: 2:08 PM]

[read: 4:42 PM]

Harry

I promise I don’t always flirt that badly

only on Tuesdays apparently

Y/N

omg sorry I didn’t mean to ghost you

got sucked into the café vortex

someone spilled oat milk into the pastry display 😩

Harry

yikes

milk-soaked muffins are a crime against humanity

Y/N

agreed. justice for the almond croissants

Harry

I’ll light a candle

maybe bring flowers to the case tomorrow

Y/N

make sure they’re ethically sourced and gluten-free please

Harry

obviously

I know your type

Y/N

my type???

Harry

yeah

the kind that gets chalk on her jeans and doesn’t realise people are flirting with her

Y/N

wait

are you flirting with me?

Harry

finally

she catches on

———————————————————————————

group chat : the coven 🔮

Y/N

okay tell me if i’m being dramatic but

he hasn’t texted me in a few days

like at all

and i sent a couple things that normally he’d respond to

and now? tumbleweeds

Noor

ooof

that sucks

have you double texted yet

Y/N

…yes

twice actually

i feel like a pest 🥲

Grace

okay but you’re not

he was super into you like… a week ago??

what changed?

Y/N

idk

it’s just weird to go from 100 to 0 like that

like if you’re busy, okay, but say something?

Noor

agreed

you deserve clarity, not mystery

Grace

you should send one more

and if he doesn’t answer that… that tells you what you need to know

(also i will egg his house)

———————————————————————————

Y/N

hey

hope you’re okay x

———————————————————————————

Harry

hey, i’m really sorry for the silence

things got unexpectedly hectic

not proud of going quiet — just got overwhelmed

didn’t mean to make you feel anything bad x

Y/N

hey

i get it

life happens

we all get pulled in different directions

———————————————————————————

Y/N

can i be honest about something?

Harry

yeah, of course

Y/N

i don’t need a lot

like, i’m not expecting updates every hour or anything

but if things get busy or overwhelming, just… say that

disappearing without a word?

it puts me in my head a bit

and that’s not the kind of energy i want in a relationship

or even something new

Harry

you’re right

you’re completely right

i should’ve said something

i didn’t mean to go quiet — but that doesn’t make it okay

i’ll do better

you deserve better

Y/N

thanks

i wasn’t trying to have a whole thing about it

just… felt like it was better to say

Harry

i’m really glad you did

———————————————————————————

Harry

how’s your wednesday going? have you yelled at any coffee machines yet today?

Y/N

only once. and it was justified.

(ryan sided with the machine though, traitor.)

Harry

unbelievable. he’s always been a bit of a corporate sympathiser.

Y/N

exactly. I think the espresso machine has him in its pocket.

…also I may have overworked the steamer and made it scream. so.

Harry

poor thing. the machine, I mean. not you.

Y/N

wow. rude.

Harry

you can handle it. you’re terrifying before 10am.

in an oddly charming way.

Y/N

stop flirting with me or I’ll start thinking you like me or something

Harry

what if I do?

Y/N

then you should probably keep flirting

There was a short pause, then a follow-up message.

Harry

can I ask something kind of random?

y/n

only if I can too.

harry

deal.

what do you do when your brain won’t switch off? like it’s 1am and it’s just… spiralling?

Y/N

oh

yeah, I know that one

I make lists. or rewatch something I’ve already seen a hundred times

sometimes I bake in the middle of the night. like a little pastry goblin

why?

Harry

just… one of those nights last night.

too much noise upstairs.

Y/N

yeah. I get that

sometimes mine’s not even spiraling with bad stuff, just… too much.

like, it’s loud even when things are okay

Harry

that’s exactly it.

like things are good, but your head’s still running laps.

nice to know someone else gets it.

Y/N

always

what would your 1am list look like?

Harry

last night?

1. things I forgot to reply to

2. upcoming interviews

3. whether or not I said something dumb last week

4. the smell of your café when I walk in

5. if I’m doing any of this right

a long pause before she replies:

Y/N

you’re not the only one wondering that last bit

no one really knows if they’re doing it “right”

but the café one was sweet

Harry

it’s true.

it smells like cinnamon and calm and you.

Y/N

you’re going to make me smile at my phone like a loser in front of ryan

he’s going to roast me

Harry

tell him I said hi

and thanks for listening

Y/N

no thanks needed

———————————————————————————

group chat: the coven 🔮

Grace

okay so. I may or may not have signed up for a pottery class

and immediately regretted it because the instructor is 80% moustache and 20% condescension

Noor

wait wait wait

is this the same guy from the art fair?? moustache man????

Grace

THE VERY SAME

except now he has opinions on my clay work and my posture

Noor

grace babe this is what you get for signing up for “mindful clay evenings”

what even is that 😭

Grace

i just wanted to be zen and creative not emotionally dismantled by a man in linen trousers

Y/N

that’s what we’re all getting from men in 2025 apparently

Grace

LMAOOO

ok but enough about me

how are things going with your coffee customer boyfriend

Noor

yeah don’t think we didn’t notice you dropped nothing in the chat yesterday 👀

Y/N

he’s not my boyfriend omg

we’re just like

getting to know each other?

Noor

mmhmm

so when’s he asking you out?

Y/N

idk

probably soon? maybe?

we’ve just been texting a lot

like, real stuff sometimes, not just dumb flirting (although there is that too lol)

Grace

okay but you like him?

Y/N

…yeah

i do

but i like where we are too, like

just figuring each other out?

feels nice. calm. not rushed

Noor

that makes sense

especially after… y’know

Y/N

yeah

i don’t want to fall into something fast just because it feels good

i want to know who he actually is

and i want him to know me

not just like, the curated bits

Grace

so you’re guarding your heart but also letting someone see it

that’s huge, babe

Y/N

i think i’m just scared that like

he’s charming and fun and Harry Styles

and maybe it’s just a game for him, i don’t know

Noor

but does it feel like a game?

Y/N

no

it doesn’t

that’s the thing. it feels real

and i think he’s being honest with me

i’m just not used to someone actually being good to me without it turning

Grace

and he hasn’t given you a reason not to trust him yet

so maybe let yourself enjoy it a little more 💛

Y/N

i’m trying

i really am

and i think he’ll ask me soon

and when he does

i’ll say yes

Noor

you better

and then immediately give us outfit details because we are going to STYLE you for this date

Grace

and then make us promise not to show up at the restaurant pretending to be waitresses

Y/N

please i beg you do not ruin this for me 😭

Noor

we’d only watch from a respectful distance

Y/N

i’m muting this chat

Grace

muting us won’t save you from the love you deserve 😌

———————————————————————————

Y/N

hey

you still up?

Harry

barely

but for you, always.

what’s on your mind?

Y/N

nothing dramatic

just been thinking a bit

Harry

thinking’s dangerous this late

should I be worried?

Y/N

lol no

not worried

just wondering where your head’s at

with us, I guess?

Harry

…okay

i’m listening

Y/N

i’m not trying to be THAT Person

like “what are we” after 3 weeks of texting

but alsoi think I just want to know that this isn’t like a passing thing for you

Harry

it’s not.

not for me.

Y/N

okay

i just

i like talking to you

and I like who you are

and I think I’d really like to go on a date with you

but only if we’re not playing around

Harry

i’m not playing

i wouldn’t waste your time like that

you matter too much already

Y/N

yeah?

even with me rambling at midnight and overthinking everything?

Harry

especially then.

and you’re not overthinking

you’re just brave enough to say what you mean

i admire that

Y/N

idk if it’s brave

feels more like anxiety in a cute outfit tbh

Harry

still cute

still honest

still you

and i like all of that

Y/N

okay

that makes me feel a lot better

thank you

Harry

you don’t have to thank me for being sure about you

but

maybe you can repay me in coffee and letting me take you out soon?

Y/N

soon sounds good

as long as it involves pastries

Harry

it will

and maybe a walk

and me pretending not to stare at you too much

Y/N

you’re bad at pretending

i’ve noticed

Harry

yeah well

i like looking at you

sue me

Y/N

i’ll allow it

but only if you keep being this honest with me

Harry

deal

no disappearing

no guessing games

just… me and you, figuring it out

Y/N

figuring it out sounds good

sleep now?

Harry

sweet dreams

i’ll text you in the morning x

Y/N

night, h

x

__——————���———————————————————

Harry

okay, so you said yes

i just wanted to double check i didn’t imagine that

Y/N

lol nope

you asked me out

and i said yes

you were very charming about it, in fact

Harry

i was sweating a little, not gonna lie

Y/N

you were not

you were cute

like in that “i make music and wear rings but still get nervous asking girls out” kinda way

Harry

that’s a very specific category and it’s slander

but fair

Y/N

[reacts to “but fair” with laughing emoji]

Harry

any requests for our date?

favourite food? allergies? places that make you irrationally happy?

Y/N

surprise me

but i like anywhere with fairy lights

or pasta

or both

but also, like, i’m not fancy

i’d be happy with takeaway

Harry

you make this way too easy

how do i impress you??

Y/N

just be you

but maybe on time 😌

Harry

low blow

deserved

i’ll be early

Y/N

now you’re showing off

Harry

only because i really like you

Y/N

🫠

———————————————————————————

group chat: the coven 🔮

Y/N

🚨 this is not a drill 🚨

he asked me out

like. on an actual date

a real date.

Grace

OMGGGGG

OMGOMGOMG

I NEED A MINUTE

Noor

wait WHAT

as in asked asked??

WHEN???

Y/N

this morning

at the café

he just… walked in all cute and nervous and said he wanted to take me out 😭

i said yes obviously

but now i’m spiralling a little

Grace

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT SINCE THE FLAT WHITE INCIDENT

Noor

you’re spiralling because… he likes you?

and you like him?

and this has been building for weeks?

Y/N

yeah but like…

first date in a long time

real feelings

he’s just so kind and clever and easy to talk to and hot, let’s not forget hot

and I don’t know how to be chill 😭

Grace

babe

it’s not a TED Talk

you’re literally just going to hang out with someone who likes you back

you’ve had more emotionally intimate conversations over text than most couples do in six months

Noor

plus, you’re not doing this with some random

you’ve got this

Grace

girl you’ve got this 💪🏼

Y/N

ok yeah

i can do this

what’s the worst that could happen

just about everything

Noor

lol y/n stop

regroup. focus

Grace

ok but like

what are you going to wear? 👀

Y/N

omg OMGGGG

WHAT AM I GOING TO WEAR

Noor

that’ll do it.

[jessesluvr]

We all know Jesse is like thee hottest man around Jackson. Do you think you can write about Reader and Jesse being in a secret relationship, which obviously means that nobody knows, and a random female member of the community starts to take a liking to Jesse and she flirts with him and ask him favours and touches his arms playfully, and Dina/Ellie, unaware of your relationship, try to set them up and jokes about them being "a couple", and even though Jesse brushes it off and tries to secretly set boundaries, Reader still feels insecure? angst to comfort to a mwah from Jesse 💚

Tysm babe you are great on your writings!

no one knows | jesse x reader

author's note : jesse is the finest man, and they picked young mazino PERFECTLY. i cannot get him out of my head. literally screaming. am i posting this @ 12am? of course because i cannot sleep. rest well loves ! <3

summary : keeping your relationship with jesse a secret seemed simple, until a new girl started openly flirting with him, and your friends unknowingly encouraged it, leaving you insecure and heartbroken. but when jesse finds you and makes a choice to stop hiding, the two of you face the town together, stronger than ever.

word count : 1.2k

you knew what you were getting into. keeping it a secret had been your idea.

"just for now," you’d told jesse, fingers tangled in his under the blanket of his bed. "it’s easier this way."

he’d searched your face for a long moment, brows furrowed. "are you sure? i’m not... ashamed of us, y’know."

"i know. i’m not either. i just... like it being ours for a while. without anyone else in it."

he’d kissed your knuckles then, warm and steady. "okay. our secret."

and for a time—it had been perfect. small moments. lingering glances. stolen kisses in dark corners. a life that belonged to no one else but you two.

but secrets came with a cost.

the first time you noticed her, it was small. harmless. new girl in the community. pretty, friendly, maybe a little too friendly. you brushed it off.

jesse had always been kind to everyone. that was part of what you loved about him.

but then came the little things. a hand on his arm when she laughed. lingering touches when she thanked him. standing just a little too close.

you told yourself not to care. you weren’t supposed to care. no one even knew you had a right to.

and jesse, bless him, didn’t seem to notice. or if he did, he handled it politely, carefully pulling away each time.

still, the gnawing ache in your chest grew with every passing day.

the final crack came at the tipsy bison.

it was friday night, packed with familiar faces. patrol shifts were light this week; most of the town was drinking, laughing, letting off steam.

you arrived a little late.

eyes scanned the room, and your heart caught in your throat.

there they were. jesse at the bar, that girl practically glued to his side.

her laugh rang out above the noise. she leaned in close, hand on his forearm, fingers tracing small circles against his sleeve.

you stood frozen, nails digging into your palm. your chest felt tight, breath catching.

then, cruelly, from a nearby table, dina’s voice rang out, loud and teasing, "look at jesse, making friends!"

ellie grinned, chiming in, "damn, maybe they are friends. or more. you two a couple yet?"

your stomach twisted.

you watched jesse’s face carefully. he gave an awkward smile, rubbed the back of his neck. "she’s just... friendly," he said lightly. "i’m not—" he trailed off.

you couldn’t take it.

couldn’t sit there pretending to laugh along. pretending it didn’t gut you to hear your friends joke about it. pretending it didn’t burn to see her touch him like that.

without a word, you slipped out. heart racing. eyes stinging.

by the time you reached your room, tears blurred your vision.

"this is what you wanted," you reminded yourself bitterly. "you wanted to keep it secret."

but you hadn’t known it would feel like this. hadn’t known how it would twist your stomach to see someone else touch him, to hear your friends cheer it on. hadn’t known how small and stupid it would make you feel.

"you’re so stupid," you whispered, voice breaking. "stupid, stupid, stupid."

you curled into your bed, pulling the blanket tight around you. trying to block out the memory of her laugh, her hand on him. trying to block out the sound of jesse’s voice—light, uncertain, unable to say the truth.

because he couldn’t say it. not when you’d asked him not to.

and now it was eating you alive.

the knock came softly at first.

"babe? it’s me."

your breath caught.

"please. let me in."

after a long pause, the door creaked open.

"i saw you leave," jesse said softly, stepping inside. he closed the door behind him. "i was looking for you."

you kept your back to him.

he sat down on the edge of the bed—close, but not touching. "talk to me. please."

"she likes you."

"no. she thinks she does. there’s a difference."

"everyone thinks you should like her back."

"that’s not true."

you turned then, eyes glassy. "dina and ellie were making jokes about it. everyone sees it. and you can’t even say anything because i—" your voice cracked. "i told you we should keep this secret."

"hey." jesse’s hand reached out slowly, warm against your arm. "you’re not wrong for wanting that. i agreed because it mattered to you."

"but now it’s hurting us," you whispered.

"then screw the secret," jesse said, voice firm. "i don’t care what anyone thinks. if this is making you feel like this? it’s not worth it."

tears welled in your eyes.

"but what if people judge us? what if it gets messy?"

"i don’t care." his voice softened. "you come first. always."

he cupped your cheek, thumb brushing away tears. "and for the record, i was pulling away tonight. but you left before i could tell you."

"i just felt so stupid." "you’re not. and you’re mine. don’t ever doubt that."

he leaned in, forehead against yours. "i love you."

"but—" "no buts." he kissed your forehead. "i’m gonna kiss you now. because i love you. and because you need to know that you’re mine—and i’m yours. okay?"

you nodded.

his lips met yours—warm, steady, full of promise. you melted into him, arms curling around him, breath hitching.

when he pulled back, eyes soft, foreheads still touching, he smiled.

"better?"

you let out a small laugh. "yeah. better."

"good." a mischievous spark lit his eyes. "now, if you want... we can go back to the bison. i’ll dance with you. let ‘em all know."

you blinked. "really?"

"really. i’m done hiding if it hurts you. let’s go make the whole damn town jealous."

you smiled, wide and real this time, and kissed him again, fierce and certain.

"i love you."

"i love you more."

the bison was still packed when you walked in.

you were nervous, heart hammering, but jesse squeezed your hand reassuringly, lacing your fingers together for the whole room to see.

you didn’t miss the way a few heads turned.

at the table where dina and ellie sat, conversation faltered. both of them blinked in surprise as jesse led you toward the bar, not letting go of your hand.

ellie let out a low whistle. "well, shit."

dina grinned wide, eyes sparkling. "oh my god. you sneaky bastards."

jesse chuckled, pulling you closer. "not so sneaky anymore."

and across the room—you saw her. the girl from earlier.

her smile faltered as her eyes flicked to your joined hands, realization dawning. you met her gaze, steady now—not cruel, but sure.

jesse caught it too. he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple in full view of everyone. "mine," he murmured softly.

the girl turned away.

ellie laughed. "guess we owe you two a drink."

dina elbowed her. "more like we owe them an apology."

"all good," jesse said easily, arm around your waist now. "we’re just... making it official."

you caught dina’s wink and ellie’s grin. "’bout damn time," dina said, raising her glass.

and as jesse pulled you onto the small makeshift dance floor, twirling you under the dim lights, you felt lighter than you had in weeks.

no more hiding. no more aching.

just you, and him, and the whole damn town finally knowing it.

[blackstarz]

Time for another post-Azkaban wolfstar (not so micro) microfic bc who would I even be if I didn’t. They drive me insane.

You can find more of my microfics on ao3 here <3

April Prompt: Amortentia

Remus shook off his coat and hung it on the stand behind the door, running a hand through his wet hair and shaking out the water. Far be it from Moody to ever send him on a mission in good weather, it seemed.

“Foul beast! Get out of my home! Get out!” Walburga’s portrait shrieked, the curtains flinging back as she raved in her frame at the end of the hall, facing the door. “I will not allow you to sully my legacy any longer!”

Remus sighed. Everybody else seemingly managed to sneak past her, but he never could, for some reason. He suspected he was probably the worst she could imagine in her old home. “Silencio,” Remus flicked his wand at her, and spelled the curtains shut. “Nasty old crow,” he muttered to himself.

“Tell me about it.” Remus twisted his head up, finding Sirius – or this new, pale, ghost of him – standing on the bottom stairs. His voice was gravelly, wrecked from years spent in silence, or as a dog. He looked up at him, in the dark entrance lit only by the one window that let the dreary, grey London light pass through. He was standing in his dressing gown, his tattoos exposed across his chest, stark against the ghoulish whiteness of his skin. His hair was matted and tangled, and he obviously hadn’t shaved since Remus had last left, his beard patchy and rough. Remus forced a smile, but only managed to get the corners of his lips to twitch.

He had only seen Sirius in this state once before – in the shack, on that full moon night.

He wasn’t able to make the smile reach his eyes.

“Hi,” he said dumbly. He knew better than to ask how he was doing, when he could so clearly see it – the way Sirius was suffering in this house. Remus started up the stairs, still soaked. Sirius didn’t move the side when Remus came to stand on the step below his. “Padfoot-?”

He searched his eyes there, in the dark, just for a moment. Once, Sirius’s eyes had burned so harshly that Remus looked in them and knew what it was to stare at the full moon, even without ever having seen it with human eyes. Now, he had to check for even a faint flicker of light in their stony unfamiliarity.

Sirius met his stare, and then Remus found himself shoved to the side, a painful jolt rolling through his spine as it collided with the wall. It was just as quickly forgotten, when Sirius brought his lips to Remus’s, forcing him into a crushing, devouring kiss.

His eyes fluttered closed on instinct.

He opened his mouth, at Sirius’s fierce insistence, from the same.

His hands found Sirius’s waist, dragging up his back and grabbing fistfuls of his dressing gown. Remus knew, really, that he should push him away, that he should stop this before anything worse happened; but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but hold him closer.

Sirius’s hands were around Remus’s neck, his jaw, stroking his cheek or moving to tangle in his hair – he was everywhere, bringing Remus closer and closer, so that no space could exist between them, no distraction.

It worked, for a time.

But Remus had spent an awful lot of his life kissing him, so he could tell. In all the places that had once been filled with heat and life and love, they were empty now. Or worse, they were filled with the uncut desperation and helplessness that he could feel in Sirius now, pouring into him as he exposed it all to Remus, holding onto him so tightly Remus wondered if he wouldn’t leave finger-shaped bruises along his neck.

Remus squeezed his eyes shut tighter, and Sirius bit on his lower lip.

Too soon, Remus pushed him away.

“Padfoot,” he whispered breathlessly, entirely helpless. Sirius’s hands slid behind Remus’s neck. “This isn’t going to help,” he said, nearly breaking in the zone between speech and whisper.

“How do you know that it won’t?” he murmured back, voice rough and wet.

It would break Remus’s heart, to do it like this. To fall back into old habits and back into bed – it would be so easy, and it was the sweetest temptation, his very own amortentia, but it would break his heart. He knew, because he’d done it before.

Remus brought his face forward to lean his forehead down against Sirius’s. He didn’t know how to give him his answer. He was a weak man, he knew. If Sirius asked him, he wouldn’t be able to say no. For everything in Remus’s life, he would have given it all up for a single, shattered piece of Sirius Black. Even if he knew it would kill the both of them.

“Don’t make me say no,” he pleaded into the air they shared between them. Sirius trembled in his arms, and his head slid to fit in the nook of Remus’s neck and shoulder.

“I can’t-” he started, but cut himself off. Remus’s arms tightened. He knew. He knew what Grimmauld Place was doing to Sirius – anybody with eyes could see it. Dumbledore might as well have thrown him back into Azkaban, for what was the difference. A cell was still a cell, and in both, he would be haunted and humiliated by the very darkest of his memories.

Sirius began to shake, silently and violently and dry sobs wracked his emaciated form. Remus held him through them, staring into dark foyer, his still fists clenched tightly in Sirius’s dressing gown.

“Padfoot,” he murmured into the cold air. He didn’t have any words of comfort to give him.

Sirius just clung to him tighter, bringing them impossibly closer, despite the rain soaked clothes and the narrow step they stood on. Remus closed his eyes, bringing pressing his cheek against Sirus’s lowered forehead. He convulsed again.

Remus wanted to tell him he loved him, that he would get him out of this place. That he would finally set Sirius free, that he would find away to bring all the life that had been stolen away from him back, and shower him in it. Desperately, Remus wanted to.

Instead, he whispered into his skin.

“I’m here.”

[spice-honey]

I have low stakes niche knowledge on this scene:

First, love the amputee representation in the show. In my previous career I was a Registered Prosthetic Technician. I have made, repaired and adjusted hundreds of prosthetic limbs over many years.

I appreciate Shaw Hatosy is NOT an amputee, so this was Holywood magic, but Holywood has yet to get how prosthetic limbs work. The leg used for this scene has an Ossur Icelock 200 series (personally not my favourite lock) for the suspension mechanism. The lock receives a pin (you can see the release button touching his palm), and the pin is attached to the bottom a silicone gel liner (the light grey thing protruding from the the top of the prosthesis). The liner adds padding, protects chaffing on the surgery scars, and sticks to the skin which ultimate is how the prosthesis stays on while the user walks. When you remove your device, the liner is not supposed to come with it like shown here. You press the pin, the leg comes off, then you roll the liner off of body. Again Hatosy is not an amputee, but with the right body double they could have shown this. Chances are, the amputated leg shown was CGI.

That said, a liner coming off with the leg can happen 2 ways: if the socket is ill fitting: they lost weight, or their amputated limb shrunk over time - it's normal; swelling goes down over time, plus the muscles atrophy.

The other explanation is when there is shrinkage throughout the day - also normal. As you are active throughout the day, the weight and compression shrinks your leg a bit - like if you were wearing a corset all day. Once they feel their sockets to loosen, users are to adjust it by taking their leg off, donning special cotton socks on over the liner, to eat up the extra room between the liner and the socket, then put the leg back on.

Obviously, Jack Abbott did not have the time to pause and add on socks throughout his shift, considering *gestures at episodes 11-15*. This would have the socket extra uncomfortable, with bony, pressure intolerant areas receiving a lot weight, the cut bone at the end of his leg would be touching the bottom and receiving his body weight as we stood and walked. If it got really loose, it would put the socket at risk of twisting and pistoning, which makes it a fall hazard (if the socket twists, the foot goes with it).

But in my heart, Jack compartmentalized the pain and just pushed through it, riding the bottom of the socket and taking the whole thing off in one go the first safe second that he could.

[dodger432101]

If it’s alright, can I please request another part with the reader and Lux as parents to their Demi-god child? It’s fair to assume that Lux can’t exactly show up for PTA meetings or Career day, and given the era, I’d imagine said Demi-god would endure some bullying for not having a dad like the others. Even more so for claiming Mr. Ring-a-Ding is their dad. So, out of anger and wishful thinking, they made their bullies into cartoons, then put them in the cartoons they like to watch which includes the bullies getting into the dangerous shenanigans the usual toons get into.

Be free to ignore this if you wish. 😅

[Ohhh this hurts to think about. I hope you're happy with what you've put their daughter through /light-hearted]

Celeste is now in school. It's almost scary that they grow up so fast. She's doing great, according to her teachers. Well behaved in class, a fast learner, good problem solver, and open to making friends. Though being around other children has opened a new door that you would never wish for her; bullying.

It was to be expected, sadly. Lux never went to any parent-teacher evenings, or any other school events, obviously. He showed all his pride in his little daughter at home, but that didn't help with the children outside the house who quickly caught on to the fact that only Celeste’s mother would come into school.

“Soooo, Celeste. How come we never see your dad?” There's a snickering group of 5 kids crowded around the front of her desk. The mean ones loved to band together to pick on solitary targets.

Your daughter sighs. She's used to the pack of giggling hyenas. “He stays at home.”

“Right, right.” Their tone is clearly mocking her. “What does he look like then? Can you draw him?” She nods with a little ‘mhm’, grabbing a pencil and paper to show them what her dad looks like.

A chorus of laughter fills the classroom. “Mr Ring-A-Ding? Your dad’s a cartoon character?”

“No, his name's Lux.”

“Sureee, whatever. This is priceless!” One of the kids snatches her drawing, running off as the rest of the group follow, still laughing away. Celeste doesn't bother getting out of her seat to go after them, relieved they've at least left her alone for a bit.

When she comes home and tells you and Lux about it, you immediately urge her to tell the teachers. She just quietly nods. She's tried that, all they do is ‘have a talk’ with those kids, and the next day they're back to their usual antics. You watch your daughter become more and more worn down, closed off, depressed. “Maybe you should talk to her teachers, angel, whatever they're doing clearly ain't working.” Lux hates seeing his little ray of light so sad, having half a mind to storm up to your school and sort those kids out himself.

With a heavy sigh, you nod. “I'll go in to speak with them tomorrow when I drop her off.”

Tomorrow just so happens to be a film day.

While you talk to her teacher, they leave a movie running to keep the class entertained. It's a fairly new, popular cartoon. Celeste keeps her gaze down as giggles echo around her. A kid in front of her turns around in their chair. “Hey, weird eyes, is this one your dad too?”

“No..? Why would I have 2 dads?” She turns her eyes up to look at the kid, then around her. There's a classroom of cruel grins facing her.

The kid in front of her laughs. “We just figured your mom told you any character on a screen was your dad. Probably makes up one for every guy she brings home!” Her hands clench on the desk as all the other kids laugh at her.

Another one closer to the front of the class speaks up. “No wonder she has those freaky gold eyes, it must be some birth defect from having a whore for a mother!” Another roar of laughter starts up, all the children missing the glare Celeste throws at them.

She's put up with their bullying while it was directed at her, but she wasn't about to sit there and let them say horrible things about her momma. The light from the screen flashes brightly, cutting off their laughter. When it dims, the room is silent, and Celeste is the only one sitting down. Every other kid is on the screen, quickly beginning to panic about the sudden change of scenery. The villain of the movie steps into frame, grinning at the group of frightened children. “Well, this ain't in the script! No bother, I'm hardly against killing a few kids!”

The screams of the other children have her teacher bursting into the classroom, at first confused by the empty seats until they turn their attention to the screen. You rush in after hearing the teacher’s scream of terror, immediately noticing that your daughter was the only child in the room. She's just watching her classmates be chased around by a weapon wielding cartoon, not even smiling at the new show she's created. “Celeste Imperator, let them out! Now!” She blinks at that, a very guilty expression forming as she looks at you. The screen flashes again and all the kids appear in front of it, some crying in fear, all of them backing as far away from your daughter as they can go. The villainous toon looks from left to right, searching for the children he'd been chasing before the projector is turned off.

“I think we need to have a talk, Celeste.” The teacher walks out of the classroom, quietly followed by you and your daughter.

You both get home after a long conversation with her teacher. Celeste is, quite understandably, suspended for the rest of the week. Lux comes over at the sound of the door, tilting his head when he sees you two. “What are you doing home early, Cel?” She keeps her head down, so you answer for her.

A hand goes to your forehead as you sigh. “She trapped her whole class in a cartoon! Had them chased around by the villain of the damn thing.”

“They were fine, momma-”

“They could have been killed, Celeste! Humans are not cartoons, they can't just slip out of situations like that!” Lux looks between the two of you, keeping quiet while you argue.

Celeste stomps her foot down. “I wish they were dead! Then they wouldn't make fun of me for not having a dad!” With that, she storms off to her room, silence following the slam of the door. You sit down on the couch, guilt eating away at you. If only you'd gone in earlier about this, your daughter wouldn't be so upset.

Your God comes over, taking your hands in his. “Hey, sunshine, it's ok. Don't think either of us were expecting that.” The reassuring smile he gives you makes you feel a little better. “I'll go talk to her, seeing as this is about me.” He gives you a quick peck on the lips before going to your daughter's room. Lux knocks on the door. “Cel? Can I come in, please?” With no response, he puts his ear up to the door. There's muffled sobs coming from inside the room. Slowly, he opens the door, giving her plenty of time to tell him to get out if she isn't ready yet.

She's sitting on her bed, hugging a Mr Ring-A-Ding plushie you'd won in a claw machine for her to her chest. Her face is buried in the toy, shoulders shaking with her sniffles. Her dad hops up next to her, putting an arm around her as his antennae droop. She was nearly a foot taller than him already, so he leans his head on her arm while she gets her tears out. “I'm sorry dad, I just wanted them to leave mom alone.” His hold on her tightens slightly at that.

“It's ok, Celeste. I would've done the same if anyone said anything bad about your mom.” That's not the complete truth. Lux would definitely do worse, but he's not about to say that right now.

She lifts her head from the plushie, leaning onto the God next to her. “Why are they so mean to me?”

Lux lets out a sigh through his nose. “You're different from them, sweetheart. Humans seem to hate those that are outside of the norm, so they exclude differences. I'm sorry it got this bad, Cel, but you can't go around trapping kids for it, ok?” His daughter sniffles, taking the tissue that he gets for her with a cartoonish stretch of his free arm.

“Why not?”

He gives another sigh. “I did the same thing, before you were born. Trapped a bunch of people in film.”

Her mouth drops open at that. “You did? How many?”

“15.”

“15?!”

“I know, don't get any ideas now.” The hand around her tickles her side, making her giggle as her tears dry. “There's consequences to these kinds of things, though. I've never told you about The Doctor, have I?” Celeste shakes her head. “There's a Time Lord out there, in the universe. He's quite fond of humans, you see, hates it when we Gods mess around with them.” Lux stares at the door. “He found me. Even my power was nothing to him. I was separated from your mother for 5 years.” He looks up at his daughter. “It would break your mother's heart if she had to be without you for that amount of time. She didn't do well without me for that long, if she lost you..”

The young girl puts the Ring-A-Ding plushie to the side, hugging her dad. “I don't want momma to be sad.” Lux smiles up at her.

“That's my little ray of sunshine. Now. Seems you have a few days off school, huh?” He nudges her gently, smile growing at her laughter. “I'll see what I can do about those little pests, I might be able to play a trick of the light when you go back. For now, why don't we convince mom to make your favourite for dinner?” He gets a little ‘Yeah!’ In response as Celeste quickly jumps off the bed to race out of the room and find you. The God of Light chuckles as he follows her out, glad that his daughter has cheered up.

[squidbun]

“pas de deux”

(ballet instructor!sukuna x ballerina!afab!reader)

thinking about ryomen sukuna as a ballet instructor. all the students at the academy gossip about him, how scary he is, how strict. some say he once kicked a girl out because the ribbons on her shoes were wrapped wrong. they also discuss how insanely attractive he is, but that’s besides the point.

ryomen sukuna who is insanely hot, muscles bulging through his tight tanks and leggings. you walk into class and swear your heart stops when you see him. not just for his good looks, but the way he carries himself. he’s light, and graceful, but with such power you’ve never seen in your entire life.

ryomen sukuna who screams at you for misunderstanding his brief and rough directions. sukuna who just stares dumbfounded when you snap right back at him, telling him exactly what you heard and to fix his directions if he wanted you to follow them. “brat” was your determined nickname from then on.

ryomen sukuna who surprises you every single time you see him. one second he’s screaming, demanding you to arch farther and jump higher and spin longer, the next his hands are running up your sides as he guides your body, speaking softly into your ear with that gruff voice that he must know drives you nuts. he wouldn’t admit it, but you’ve got talent. not only for ballet, but for standing up to assholes like him.

and he likes it.

ryomen sukuna who maybe, just maybe, smiles a little when he sees your reaction to getting odette and odile in swan lake. all smiles, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and a sideways glance to sukuna, like he had anything to do with it. that talent, the talent that got you that role, was all yours.

ryomen sukuna who starts to have trouble focusing when he begins his private lessons with you in preparation for your role. you’re delicate and fragile, gentle and conveying, with the way you dance. but he’s swears to god, when you dance as odile, your curves just tease him a little more. your sultry glances, and soft smiles. the way you spin and drag yourself across his when he dances as the prince. the way your hand drags across his chest, brushing his waistline ever so slightly. he won’t ever admit it, but there’s a damn good reason he ends your lessons with that dance - to rush home to fist his cock to the thought of you dancing with him utterly naked.

ryomen sukuna who’s forehead vein pops out and pulses when he sees you do that dance with the actual dancer. he knows it’s stupid, he knows that those sideways glances are in character and even with him they mean nothing, but seeing yuji so painfully obviously flush at it still makes him furious, even if the brat is his cousin.

ryomen sukuna who is shocked to find you one day in a fit of tears and anger at his door. not tears of sadness, but tears of frustration. he listens with slits for eyes as you vent about how you feel like you suck as odile - never sultry enough. “how would i know how to be enticing?” and sukuna bites his tongue as he wants to explain you don’t even have to try. you always were too much a perfectionist. staying too late to perfect each move, each flick of your fingers intentional and poised with hours of practice. practice he facilitated.

ryoman sukuna who offers you to meet him at his own personal studio in his penthouse tonight. sliding you the address and his number on a sheet of paper, he’s staring so shamelessly and intently at your ass as you walk out. you’re in those goddamn white lacy tights he told you weren’t dress code approved (mostly because he got a hard on just thinking about them - tearing them off you and making you fold in half in front of those massive mirrors in the practice hall, that is).

ryomen sukuna who knows exactly what he’s gonna do tonight to show you how sexy you are.

a/n: hi hi, do we want this as an actual oneshot orrr?? sorry for any grammar/spelling errors, this was loosely glanced over lol

[ari-is-green]

Some random headcanons about a modern KisaIta with their little shark of a son. Not in a particular order of age.

Shizuma was the most reactive baby/toddler ever. He would laugh at everything but also cry at the smallest disconfort. Would definetly babble in response to his parent's conversation. They always talked to him back, especially Itachi. It would go something like,

"bah ba ba baah"

"I do, too, agree that the political parties in our country are unorganized and taking our government grounds to a base level"

Shizuma proceeds to blow raspberry

"Thats a very astute observation, Shizuma"

And Kisame is just there watching like "yep, that's my husband alright"

When it was first announced that they were expecting a kid (throw in your headcanon if it is via surrogate or a mpreg situation), Kisame would run to the store and buy everything blue and ocean related he could get his hands on. He couldn't care less if it would be a boy or a girl his kid was going to have blue clothes and nursery.

Shizuma's room would then have baby-blue walls with drawings of whales, waves and bubbles on them (Deidara made them as a gift), a mobile on the crib with ocean creatures like starfishes, stingrays and dolphins (Sasori's gift), about six shark plushies and toys, sheets with Shizuma's name embroided on them with little shark drawings, you get the idea. Itachi had to buy clothes with other colors other then the blue spectrum or else his son would be monocromatic for the first year of his life.

Shizuma was not a pacifier baby at all. When they would try it on him he would spit them out right away and cry even harder.

Kisame's hand was his favorite chew toy.

Itachi would read for his son as soon as he could. Shizuma's first book was (obviously) a childrens book of sharks with pop-out figures. He would also read stories to Shizuma religiously at bedtime. He had his own little library at the nursery.

Shizuma would talk at a very early age and form somewhat coherent scentences by the age of two.

On that same hand Itachi would be a absolute NO SCREEN parent. His children shows would be as educative as possible, but Shizuma prefer to watch animal documentaries snuggled with Kisame at the couch. Absolutely hypnotized.

That kid had so much energy to spare he could light up a whole city. Thankfully they had a yard so Shizuma wouldn't wreck havoc inside their home but they ended up with more broken windows that they should. Shizuma would go swimming at the pool and the sea (which in my mind they lived just next door to), play soccer, run around the garden for hours on end screaming and laughing, jump from tables and the couch (RIP to Itachi's heart) or just any high place he could get to, skateboard the neighborhood and ride a bicycle. Eventually he settled to basketball as his main sport but it took a while to get there. Kisame can have the most energy of the pair but even him couldn't keep up with his son. Thankfully Itachi's family (mostly Mikoto and Shisui) would jump at the first oportunity to take care of Shizuma so Kisame and Itachi could breathe a little.

Shizuma threw THE fit when Sarada was born because he was no longer the baby of the family. Itachi had to sit him down and have a really long talk with him.

He also definetly bit his baby cousin more then once.

Shizuma went to a phase where he liked to throw things at people (mostly to get their attention really). He only did that to his parents a couple of times, but he definetly continued to do it to family friends and godfathers (aka Zabuza and Shisui) when they came over. Mainly Zabuza and Deidara tho. The blonde took a hit to the eye once and Shizuma got grounded for two weeks.

Shisui never got hit because be basically had Shizuma in his lap 24/7.

Shizuma was a very well planned baby. Itachi and Kisame knew they wanted a kid and planned for it three years in advance, working their asses off to get enough money for when the time came.

When it was announced that they were expecting, they worked extra hard until they couldn't. Itachi took a break from his job as a criminal lawyer for the first year of Shizuma's life while Kisame was a stay-at-home dad for the first three.

They took every single big achievement of their son seriously, like his first words, the first time he learned to walk, etc. They would have a family gathering everytime something of the sort happened to celebrate it.

And to end it, Kisame would religiously take Shizuma to the aquarium from his first year up until ten. Shizuma grew up wanting to be a marine biologist and wanted to be "just like daddy".

[fallloverfic]

Thoughts on the live-action adaptation of The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells, Episode 5: Rogue War Tracker Infinite:

This adaptation/show is just so bad and I doubt I'm watching the rest of it at this point. If you like any part of the show, please read the books. They're actually very good. The show is not at all a reflection of almost any part of the books, and looks to be decreasingly like anything that remains.

I think people think I'm just butthurt because I'm a book purist or something, but that's truly not the sole reason I'm frustrated. Two things are important to consider with an adaptation:

If you change something, the result should be good

If you hate the source material, why are you adapting it?

A good example of an adaptation that heavily changed things is the 2004 Studio Ghibli adaptation of Diana Wynne Jones' 1986 novel, Howl's Moving Castle, both of which I love (and I watched the movie first). Studio Ghibli massively rewrote a good chunk of the story, moving the focus from on being Welsh, obsession, some more light-hearted humor, family and romantic drama, and magic dueling (the Witch of the Waste was just a villain in the book) to one more focused on being anti-war and pro-environmentalism. It's a different story, but it's not a bad one, and obviously the visuals, the characters, the setting, the acting, the music, all come together to create something that is clearly heavily inspired by and based on the wonderful novel, but is also very much its own thing. The movie is massively beloved by many book fans and demonstrates that you can change things, create something good, and not massively piss off the audience for the source material. I imagine there are criticisms, too (certainly one of my favorite lines isn't in the movie), but generally, the movie is beloved.

Contrast this with their messy adaptation of Tales From Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin, the result of which Le Guin herself said, "Yes. It is not my book. It is your movie. It is a good movie." Speaking as someone who has a fondness for Gedo Senki, it is trash. Beloved trash (anyone who knows me knows I am in fact a trash connoisseur), but trash all the same. And it is basically nothing of Le Guin's wonderful books. I think its failings speak more to inexperience and production issues than hatred of the source material, though, at least from what's evident in the movie itself and what I know of the production.

The live-action adaptation of The Murderbot Diaries ("MBTV") fails the first point I wrote, regardless of whether or not you've read the books, and the people who made the show seem to hate the source material. I know Wells was somewhat involved in the show, particularly as a producer. I don't know how much was done at her suggestion or with her blessing or what she was powerless to change but would have if she could. I'm not going to speculate absent her saying something, and so far as I'm aware, she hasn't said anything. She just shares positive interviews about the show.

It's for similar reasons that I'm wary of calling Skarsgard a surprising highlight, given he was, outside being the lead, an executive producer. Despite weirdly not being one of the worst elements in the show (it helps a lot of what he does is standing still), he also has a relatively central role in making the show and this even brings into question how much of an issue he was in the production. Maybe most/none of the truly bad stuff is his fault. He's an executive producer, not one of the directors, after all, his reach is relatively limited (often executive producers just help bankroll projects). Who knows? I just struggle to look at him as a relatively bright point in the show, despite everything, knowing just how heavily involved he likely was outside just acting.

As someone who loves media about cyborgs (especially cyborgs built to be weapons; I mean come on, Cyborg 009 has been doing this since 1964), at this point I truly don't understand why they didn't just make an original cyborg series of some kind. I probably wouldn't have liked it, but at least it wouldn't have been trying to use the books for attention.

People are also arguing it's just expensive fanfiction, just like all big budget adaptations. Perhaps in a world where we could all dump millions on fanfiction, this would be less irritating. The "this is all we get probably" aspect definitely does heighten anger/the potential for anger. If I knew we were getting ten or even just two Murderbot show adaptations by two different studios/sets of studios, I'd be less annoyed one sucks.

The show still sucks. And the way the show increasingly seems to show vitriol for the core concepts in the story, the cast, the queerness, and even writing/creating a good show in general... It just fucking sucks.

Also a core difference between regular fanfiction someone wrote on their break, for no money, and MBTV, is that MBTV is made by massive corporations that generally suck (like what, you want me to feel bad for mocking Apple and Paramount? One of whom owns the rights to Star Trek? The other one of which is a main reason queer media is being removed from the Internet en masse because of Steve Jobs' anti-porn stance? Both of which are likely why the books' anti-capitalist themes have likely been largely shaved out? Fuck off) and my fucks to give about being mean to them as a result are low.

But for more direct criticisms of specific parts of the episode:

Ah yes, Arada, member of PresAux, who focuses on peaceful resolutions and is largely against violence last I recall, shooting first and asking questions later. Yes. That makes perfect sense. I'm aware Overse provides cover for Mensah and Murderbot in All Systems Red ("ASR"). Overse has also been deleted from MBTV and has been replaced by Ratthi, who has no weapons training, and Arada, who hasn't had good weapons training.

Part of my hatred for everything with LeeBeeBee (outside how incredibly badly written her intro was) and what seems to be the story's direction is the very obvious fact that LeeBeeBee, a character who was added for the show (while two characters were erased for the show, which created a slew of problems) is part of the villain group, which makes literally everything she does 10x dumber. I could be entirely wrong, even ignoring the line, "LeeBeeBee changes her tune" in the summary for Episode 6, but it was pretty obvious from her introduction, and was only even more obvious throughout the episode. She's a femme fatale, likely working for whatever they end up calling EvilSurvey. I imagine she'll attempt to murder the PresAux crew or have another rogue SecUnit pop up somewhere to do it for her.

There's a line Murderbot has shortly after it wakes up in ASR:

“My clients are the best clients.” (Chapter 5).

That's gone. It's a "relatively" minor thing but just part of a general, central theme of the books - Murderbot's attachment to the people it cares for - that is just gone entirely in the show. For the record, book!Murderbot does think it'd be stupid if its client revived it. But it takes in the situation. And thinks better of its clients. Book!Murderbot's compassion is part of why the audience cares about Murderbot. It's part of how Murderbot demonstrates its humanity. That the show is excising it out because, I don't know, they think it's funny to focus on the gross factor of humans almost entirely, is depressing, and tells me the people making this show have no comprehension of the material they are adapting. That the show is increasingly focusing on the human characters rather than the title character is also really frustrating, and makes me depressed about if they ever get to Artificial Condition, which spends most of the story with a cyborg and an AI.

The "LeeBeeBee talking about Murderbot's genitalia" thing is 20x worse than it is in the trailer. It's just an overly long, incredibly stupid and moronic scene. The actress is fine, for all I have to wonder if this is a self-insert character of the directors, considering what I've heard about them, and all the writing for her parts suck. And listen, I write porn. I like a good sex joke (or even a bad one, depending). I like stories that deal with trauma and shock. This was stupid, and maybe in isolation it wouldn't be as terrible as it is, but it's part of a whole series that is focusing in very weird ways on naked Murderbot and sex and how gross humans are especially in re: sex.

The word "gross" does not appear in ASR or Artificial Condition. The word disgust does not appear, either, and "disgusting" appears only once (in ASR), and it's Ratthi who says it, in re: how SecUnits are enslaved. "Repulse", "repulsive", and "revulsion" do not appear in ASR or Artificial Condition. I just wanted to make that clear for folks who think I'm just too icked out by things in the show rather than being annoyed at how this is a theme created for the show. Yes, book!Murderbot is clearly deeply uninterested in having sex or being in a physical relationship, and it dislikes physical intimacy. It often comments sharply and judgmentally on human and particularly allosexual actions. When it thinks about sex in ASR, it notes it finds sex boring (Chapter Two). Primarily it doesn't want to be personally involved in these things. It still does not so deeply emphasize the "humans are disgusting" vibe as the show does.

Ignoring that it's a change, what is supposed to be interesting about "humans gross" as a theme? I've seen Young Frankenstein (1974), which does a lot of the gross but funny humor used in MBTV but like... good?

Homages and rehashes are fine, I guess, but MBTV does nothing it attempts to do well.

Ratthi talking about having children with partners he's been involved with for... a day or so? Is bizarre. It's especially frustrating because again, in the books, Ratthi is actually a useful member of the team. He's not annoying, tactless (most of the time), and incompetent.

It is so visually weird how PresAux is hovering around Murderbot constantly as it's getting repaired. It's just... why? Do they have nothing else to do? I get there are two fewer members of their team, but seriously?

So in ASR, Pin-Lee, Overse, Volescu, and Gurathin all have some part in checking out Murderbot and fixing it. Bharadwaj does not. When Murderbot is brought onto the hopper at DeltFall after the rogues are dealt with, Mensah gets Pin-Lee's help to try to fix it. Why, exactly, does the show want Pin-Lee to be portrayed as useless and irritating? Why couldn't Pin-Lee help Bharadwaj rather than just standing around?

Thus far in the episode we've covered the show's central themes:

Humans are gross

These characters are incompetent

Ratthi is a child

Pin-Lee is annoying and useless

Look at the weird hippies

Again, the whole hippie angle was made up for the show, makes absolutely no sense in context, and is generally stupid. And further pushes away from the idea of Murderbot's compassion. The folks who made this show hate the books, that's the only conclusion I can come to.

"This SecUnit is our friend. . . . Yeah, that's right. I'm friends with a SecUnit."

This^ entire sequence was stupid, unnecessary, and uncomfortable to watch. The show is so obsessed with making Ratthi a dumbass child obsessed with showing off. Ratthi was never exactly a favorite of mine (though I didn't hate him), but considering the only two fics I ever wanted to write for this fandom involve him, this is so annoying, on top of how frustrating it is to watch. I love ridiculous characters who do kind of dumb things. I embody that line in Porco Rosso: "You're stupid, I like that in a man." (So many characters I love are like that) But every scene with Ratthi at this point is so deeply uncomfortable to watch, and knowing that it is clearly done intentionally is exasperating.

So show!Bharadwaj alerts everyone that Murderbot has woken up. They are all aware it can't move, but it is very clear its eyes are open and it can see them. LeeBeeBee, after a while, panics and says, "It's probably observing us right now and plotting its next move." Like yes, it is observing you. IT CAN SEE YOU. You know that! This is just "I don't know where Mensah is!" -five seconds later- "Oh look I found Mensah!" all over again.

Bharadwaj is now taking the place of Overse and Volescu and Pin-Lee for some reason, with a little add-in from Arada taking one of Overse's lines. I have no idea why. Pin-Lee exists. Why couldn't they have their book lines?

The "did you see that part of the episode" thing is just... it feels so empty. It's faster in the novel and just funnier. There's just something off about the acting in the acting in the seen. ALSO I SAID WHAT I SAID LAST EPISODE! THEY MISREAD/REDID THE LINE WITH GURATHIN SAYING HOW MANY HOURS OF MEDIA MURDERBOT DOWNLOADED! THAT'S WHY THE NUMBER IN THE OPENING IS WEIRD! People who are defending this show, please go off and be happy you like it and leave the rest of us alone when we point out this bullshit! It has seemingly absolutely nothing to do with 4D chess intentionality on the part of the people who made it. Show!Murderbot is not younger than book!Murderbot, it doesn't have a meaningful change on its personality, it's just the showrunners being fucking stupid with "minor details".

For a refresher of what I talked about last time in re: show!Murderbot's alleged "younger" age/mindset:

The line show!Murderbot uses in Episode 1:

“I could now access the combined feed of entertainment channels on the company’s satellites. I had watched 7,532 hours of content since then.”

This would parallel its line in the opening of ASR, when it says,

“I could access the combined feed of entertainment channels carried on the company satellites. It had been well over 35,000 hours or so since then, with still not much murdering, but probably, I don’t know, a little under 35,000 hours of movies, serials, books, plays, and music consumed.”

Unless there’s an actual interview somewhere specifying show!Murderbot’s age/that it is younger in the show than in ASR, I’m going to assume people are going off the number change. It’s been at least 7,532 hours since it hacked its governor module in the show, rather than a little under 35,000 in ASR, which would be a difference of a little over 3 years, assuming it didn’t just do something else in the “missing” 3ish years (and didn’t, I don’t know, rewatch anything/including that as part of the 7k number).

In ASR Chapter 5:

“Gurathin hesitated. “It’s downloaded seven hundred hours of entertainment programming since we landed. Mostly serials. Mostly something called Sanctuary Moon.”

Show!Gurathin in Episode 5 says:

"It's downloaded thousands of hours of entertainment programming."

Literally all the show did was make the numbers match better. That's it. That's all. So far as I can tell, it's a "plot hole" that didn't exist that they modified for plot consistency that doesn't matter. I do not trust the people making this to be doing something deeper like "making show!Murderbot younger" or some bullshit. Stop pretending that's what's happening absent actual statements from the crew that's what's happening, or something more specific in-universe indicating Murderbot's age more than "I downloaded y amount of media".

The kiss is 40x worse than the trailer made it out to be. I agree with what a friend suggested: I think Murderbot's asexuality angered the folks who made the show, and they're punishing it for that. It's just a thing that acephobes do. Even ignoring that aspect of its personality, the scene would be deeply gross for anyone. Yes, it's framed as being uncomfortable, but I think you're meant to laugh at how silly it is (e.g., "Look at how uncomfortable Murderbot is, isn't that funny") and how weird and hypersexual LeeBeeBee is. An ace person wouldn't be grossed out purely because they're ace: they'd be disgusted a stranger kissed them without consent. This framing is like every dude mad he "now" "can't" hug or touch women because of MeToo or some bullshit rather than you know people always have agency and a lot of cis men in particular have been taught by society that women in particular are not people and thus do not have boundaries to be respected. I've met guys like this. I am truly not impressed with what was likely going through the showrunners' heads when making this shit up.

I was trying to understand what LeeBeeBee could be hoping to accomplish, narratively, with this, from the angle that she's meant to be a villain. And I think it's very generic hypersexualization of femme villains. That's all. It's not imaginative. Even Astro Bot has the giant female snake boss, Lady Venomara - the only markedly gendered boss - moan lewdly, Oh yesss!! when she gets knocked unconscious.

And to be clear, it's not bad that villains are evil. Obviously. Oh no, an evil person did an evil thing, -le gasp-!!!! /end sarcasm. I'm just looking at this from the angles of:

Is it entertaining?

Is it creative?

And the answer is no. It is neither of those things. Adding this character to the story adds nothing of value, on top of the fact that this whole scenario is showing how incompetent Murderbot is in the show, because they're again so heavily foreshadowing LeeBeeBee is a femme fatale/spy, and Murderbot explains how the villains likely got into DeltFall, explicitly, clearly setting up what LeeBeeBee is doing, and how Murderbot, at no point, questions that she is doing that.

Gurathin should be keeping LeeBeeBee out of PresAux's stuff purely on privacy concerns. She's allegedly a member of a different organization and has no right to PresAux's proprietary data. Gurathin being butthurt he can't make the moves on Mensah should not be interfering with this, and Gurathin is not meant to be this incompetent. But the show wants him to be an incompetent led by his dick for whatever reason.

I could go on about queerness in this show and how badly it's handled, but a friend did a far better job than I ever could.

Sure, why not have the hopper blow up/crash? Who gives a fuck at this point? I didn't mention another adaptation of Tales From Earthsea: the notoriously shit live-action 2004 SciFi miniseries we as a fandom pretend doesn't exist because it sucks so much. And yeah, it's fantasy, not science fiction, and it was made by SciFi (Syfy), who have a far less than grand history of making things. But we are basically there at this point. That is my feeling watching this: this might as well happen, cause who fucking cares?

Fuck this show.

Please read the books. They're so much better. Kobo sells DRM-free copies, too.

Other thoughts:

Episodes 1-2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5 (You are here)

[cecilysass]

Okay, here are some additional recs from my favorites. Honestly I could go on longer on this topic, but I am forcing myself to stop now lol.

Pilgrims creeping towards the dawn- softnow

This might be my favorite Diana angst piece— it’s up there anyway. It’s pretty ouchy, so faint of heart, beware. If you’re reading the fic I am posting now (One Hand Tied), you’ll probably notice I was influenced by it in the initial set-up.

Blinded by White Light - DashaKay

This is a classic fic (actually from the 90s) that is falls into the “classic for a reason” category. It’s really original, and the main plot is not about jealousy… but oooooh jealousy does play a role for both agents. It’s HEARTBREAKING in the best way. (Happy/hopeful ending.)

How to fake an orgasm - sab, punk

This is an unusual jealousy fic because it doesn’t spell it out. You have to read between the lines a little. Mulder meets a nice girl and has an actual normal girlfriend, which he likes … at first. Scully’s reaction here is subtle; she does NOT cry and pine and run out of rooms. But she also kind of loses her mind.

You He Did Not Fail - extraordinarily_ordinary

In this well-written casefile, Scully left Mulder abruptly during season 5 when they were in the midst of an established relationship, suddenly moving to California (with no explanation) and beginning a new life working for the LA field office. Two years have passed. Mulder is sent in to consult as a profiler on a case. They have to work on the case, discuss why Scully left, and deal with Scully’s new boyfriend.

Mine - lepusarcticus

This is only a one shot, but it’s one of the most popular XF fics on AO3. Mulder comes to see Scully after Never Again. This is suuuuuuuch good jealous smut. The crème de la crème.

Ouroboros - neednot

More extremely hot Never Again smut. There is some emotional content here, too.

Never - SisterSpooky1013

Scully’s night with Jerse causes Mulder to have realizations, get drunk, and make self destructive choices. This is a little pain and angst fest with three parts. I LOVE IT. I love it so much I actually recorded the first part for the AudioFanFic pod.

Tiger Lily - Eleanore

I love this quirky post-War of the Coprophages jealousy fic written just a few weeks after the episode aired in 1996. In this fic, Mulder remains smitten with Bambi, and Scully provides him with advice despite her own feelings. Understated angst and a moving ending that seems perfectly calibrated to season 3’s low key UST vibe. I also recorded this one for the AudioFanFic pod.

Hurt’s Hopeful Plunder - darlablack

This is an amaaaaazing wrap-up to the “Mulder being an asshole” plot of One Son. This is hot, sweet, angsty, the whole thing.

Absolution - SlippinMickeys

This fic fits within the events of One Son. Scully is still hella angry, obviously. Angry sex and apology sex. Another smut / angst triumph.

All the Warmth in the World -oohnotvery

This author is sooooo good at jealousy in general and Diana angst in particular. So much of her work would fit, but this one holds a special place in my heart: pure jealous Scully with a lovely resolution.

the guts (and the tend the wound series) - wtfmulder

Okay, this one you REALLY need to be in the right head space for. Diana angst as bitter as good dark chocolate. This will huuuuuuurt you; it’s for the serious angst aficionados only. But ultimately a happy / hopeful ending.

On the subject of Jealousy!sex fics - who do you prefer? A jealous Mulder or a jealous Scully? And do you have any favorite fics of that genre?

I like it when either of them are jealous! As long as it's handled deftly. But I rely on @calimanc to be the linkkeeper because I'm not much of a historian after losing a decade's worth of bookmarks and falling into despair. I'll see if I can coax her or @randomfoggytiger into tossing some links your way 😉