#or working their team too unreasonably hard

[crehador]

the current state of the one with the clones is me whispering to clone!ichiro you have got to fuck him faster than this and him hissing back i am fucking trying?? because this 4p clone sex pwp is now

and there's still. there's still no fucking p.

[fightaers]

sometimes i think abt how sakura's become so widely-spread and misinformed in that mass-production that she's almost become this caricature of the third female member in a trio who is a 'girl-boss who is so cool and is so sexy or so confident etc' when, in fact, she's actually a character with believable flaws and unique characteristic pertaining specifically to the experiences she's endured, and she's beyond someone everyone mass-ships or mass-hates, and in this essay i will—

[thedevotionaltour]

in terms of art alone im sorry. im a jrjr defender to my last breath you be fucking nice to him. i dont wanna hear shit❗️❗️❗️

[slytherinsimp12]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊ 𝓖𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱 ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

Pairing: James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James Potter was charming, mischievous, captain of the quidditch team and very popular among the girls at Hogwarts. He had a certain talent for making his presence aware , a charisma that was unmatchable. You didn’t have many friends, no matter how hard you tried, people never seemed to acknowledge you. To put it quite plainly, you were the polar opposite of James. You spent years trying to push out and ignore any romantic feelings you had for him, because come on… there is no way he even knows you exist…. Right?

Warnings: Mild swearing and kissing/ making out.

Author’s Note: Hi my loves, this is part 1 of a mini series called- Gold rush. I will keep updating, as fast as I can. If you like my work, feel free to send in requests and leave comments 💌. Happy reading xx. Part 2 and Part 3 out now! (Comment to be added to the taglist)

The lively chatter of students filled the corridors. Golden light shone on the cold, aged walls. The air was heavy with the scent of old books, dust and a hint of magic. You made your way towards the dungeons, just in time for Potions class. You were fairly late; your usual spot was taken by another student. You scanned the classroom, looking for a vacant seat. Unfortunately, there was only one, at the very front of the class.

You settled in the empty seat, when you noticed the boy sitting next to you. His messy black hair was overgrown, and ruffled in a way that looked purposeful. His hazel eyes appeared large beneath his round glasses. James Potter was unreasonably attractive, that wasn’t a secret. You spent your first few years at Hogwarts trying to deny it, but it was of no use. You tried telling yourself his good looks didn’t make up for his arrogant and vexatious personality. He was insufferable.

You hated the way he paraded around the school, hands casually tucked in his pockets, increasing his voice by a few extra decibels whenever a pretty girl walked by. You hated the way he effortlessly drew attention to himself as soon as he walked into a room. And what you hated the most, was when he would catch your gaze lingering on him for a little too long.

“Good morning students. I will be assigning you your partners from now onwards. You will stick to these arrangements for the rest of the academic year.” Professor Slughorn announced, earning disappointed groans from the whole class.

“I have learned my lesson after the ‘incidents’ young Mr. Potter and Mr.Black have caused.” He continued, causing wide grins to spread across James and Sirius’ faces.

Slughorn spent most of the lesson reading out the pairs he had made. You were growing impatient, he hadn’t called out your name yet, maybe this was the perfect opportunity to finally make a new friend… and you know, make it last this time.

“Mr.Potter and Ms. Y/L/N” The professor called out.

You have got to be kidding me, you thought to yourself, a horrified look plastered across your face.

“Why that face, love? I don’t bite” James said turning towards you, then to Sirius and letting out a laugh.

You rolled your eyes and left class, saved by the bell.

The next day, you decided to spend your free time in the library and catch up on some homework. Immersed in your work, you almost didn’t notice the figure walking towards you.

“Feeling studious, are we?” James asked, placing his hands on the table and leaning forward.

“I was, until you came along.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself, as you stared packing your things up.

“Wait, where are you going?” James asked.

“I’m sorry, is there something in particular you want from me?” You snapped.

“You’re my new potions partner aren’t you? I thought we could study for the upcoming test together.” He said cooly.

“Right… well, I’m y/n.” You said, extending your hand.

“You’re kidding right?” James asked, with an almost offended expression.

“Why would I be kidding about my name?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Bloody hell… I know who you are y/n!” James exclaimed. “Third year, Defence against the dark arts, fourth year transfiguration and history of magic and fifth year, divination and astronomy. Those are all the classes we had together, do you not remember?” James continued.

“Oh- um… yea, I guess.” You said, dumbfounded. You remembered. You obviously remembered. How could you forget? But the real question was, how in Merlin’s Name did James freaking Potter know who you were? Did you hit your head and fall into an alternate reality, where you were one of the bimbos he noticed?

It had been a week since that unforeseen encounter with James. He would wink at you during meals or purposefully walk too close to you in the corridors, just enough for your shoulders to brush. He would pretend like he didn’t notice you, but you could feel his stare penetrate when you weren’t looking.

The following night, you woke up in a cold sweat. Your stomach was churning with nausea; it must have been the puking pasties a girl named Marlene gave you.

You were in desperate need of fresh air. Careful not to wake your dorm mates, you slipped out of bed, not caring that you’re in your pyjamas and decided to take a stroll around the castle. You had to be really cautious to not get caught, you didn’t want your house to loose points. You made your way to the dungeons, as it had a lovely view of the black lake.

“Light them up before Filch comes!” A voice whispered.

“What if the Slytherins wake up!” A shrill voice filled with fear added.

“Leave if you must , Pete! But do not ruin this for the rest of us.” You could recognise that voice anywhere.

You peaked your head from the corner of a wall, spotting James and his group of friends, ‘the marauders’, they called themselves. How cheesy. They were in-front of the Slytherin common room, with what seemed to be dung bombs and fire crackers in their hands.

‘Bloody hell. They’re mental.’ You thought to yourself.

“Shit! Run!” One of the voices shouted.

The crackers exploded, creating loud sounds and a strong pungent smell. From a distance, you could see Filch running towards the mess. Suddenly, you felt someone grab you from behind. Before you could shout, their hand covered your mouth. You turned your head to see James signalling you to be quiet. He pulled you into a hidden corner as Filch scoured the surroundings, looking for the culprits behind the mess.

He released his hand from your mouth.

“What the hell! What are you guys doing! Have you absolutely lost your minds??!!” You whisper shouted.

“Y/N Y/L/N, are you following me?To answer your question, no our minds are very much intact. Just a bit of sweet revenge on the Slytherins. Nothing special.” James smirked.

You noticed just how close the both of you were standing. You could feel his warm breath on your cheeks. You could see the soft curve of his lips and the slight flush in his cheeks. You could hear his heart racing.

He lifted his arm, gently brushing a strand of stray hair away from your face.

Whatever gap was there between the two of you, was closed by James. His lips crashed into yours with an intensity that set your skin on fire. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. All the years of pent up emotions you felt for James came rushing. He pulled away from the kiss to catch his breath, the overwhelming force left you reeling.

“Prongs! Prongs, where are you?” A voice hissed.

“Shit.” James said, through clenched teeth.

“Prongs?” You asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

“It’s Sirius. I’ve got to go. Will you be able to go back to your dorm on your own?” James questioned.

You nodded.

“Catch you later, y/n” He said, flashing you that famous James Potter smile.

That alone was enough to make your heart melt.

(All rights reserved, ©)

[diz-eaze]

thinking of yandere modern au shenanigans with other genshin characters too <33 teehee

; (characters included; alhaitham, ayato, lumine, furina, emilie, albedo, childe, kinich, chasca, xilonen)

; inspired by the deranged scara chronicles

; I AM SO SORRY. yandere, half serious half silly, dark content,I'm being so fr when I say these are degenerates, they are GOONERS ok, some nsfw content/mention in some parts (marked by a <3), not proofread i wrote this in the middle of class, depraved beings :(, fem reader for the women but otherwise gn, more specific warnings are listed below their names! it got short in the end bc this is just word vomit okay

alhaitham:

(subtle manipulation, stealing papers, mentioned masturbation, cyberbullying (?))

alhaitham gets unreasonably jealous when you seek out other tutors that aren't him. oh, you like the way the organic chemistry teacher explains calculus to you? ok...! I guess you want him to kill himself, then! :))) he tries so hard to win the idgaf war everytime he sees you watching said channel on youtube during your shared study sessions, but he slides down the door in utter agony the moment he enters his dorm. that should have been him !! he deserves to have a slowburn, academic rivals to lovers (excluding the part where he is batshit insane <3) 204k words love story with you where in the end you willingly become his captive in his basement !! and he can't even be normal for once and just approach like a sane being to say, "hey, I can tutor you instead, lol." NO. he obtains an olympic medal from the amount of mental gymnastics he does just to nudge your mind into considering the idea of him tutoring you.

he begins to schedule your study sessions back at his dorm wherein instead of pulling out the lecture slides and listening to the organic chemistry tutor on youtube, you're forced to resort to the medieval method of pulling out a textbook while you're forced to listen to alhaitham drone on because for some mysterious reason, the wifi in his dorm stopped working. you grumble and verbally complain about his probable broke ass forgetting to pay the bills but really, he just cut the wires off just for this moment :/. kaveh's gonna have a meltdown when he comes home to no wifi, too. and all this for what? blockussy (blockmate ussy)? alhaitham, listen to your friends you're being unreasonable right now. alhaitham !!

he's always always ALWAYS partnered up with you in duo works or at the very least, placed in the same groups. he'd always act like it happened because of pure chance but if you take a glimpse at his phone's dms you'd see the death threats he's been sending to his peers and professors alike :/. and it's not even typed in a fed up way with incorrect punctuations nor does it include any slangs - it reads as an email. formal and straight to the point. yeesh.

<3: after every written midterm or final exam, your sheet of paper always go mysteriously missing and you always shrug it off because who gaf about a damned piece of paper that only caused you misery. but alhaitham does. he always collects your exam papers so that he can paste it on the walls of his room, and it'll be the first thing that his eyes settle on the moment he enters. it makes him incredibly proud to see your high marks every single time, he can't help but feel pride in his chest (he thinks he's part of the team 😭😭), especially if it was a subject he tutored you on. but more than anything, he just loves the way intellect looks so good on you. and it would be somewhat sweet if he didn't take your exam papers without your knowledge and if he stopped nutting on them every time he gets worked up :/.

ayato:

(coercion)

ayato traps you into a relationship within less than a month of knowing him 😞💔. your first meeting was probably preconstructed, too. maybe you two stumbled into each other amidst a busy street or reached for the same book in a secluded store - a supposed meet-cute in your eyes but it quickly becomes a horror story because he has your routine and behavioral pattern memorized and noted down in his phone just so he can plan ahead. he manages to coerce you into a date the same day you two met, and you're left wondering if it's his charisma or you've just been intimidated into giving him a chance. either way, you end up having more casual dates in the span of two (2) weeks until one day a friend of yours sends you an article link. your blood runs cold when you see the headline and a familiar picture of a date with him underneath it - what do you mean conglomerate heir??? ayato?? relationship???? in a fit of panic, you end up spamming his dms and he'd have the gall to try and act sad, saying shit like, "oh, wow :(((. that's crazy :(( so sorry this happened to you because of me! might as well commit, right? :<" but secretly giggling twirling his hair and kicking feet from the fruition of his plan. asshole.

loves sharing his boba drink with you to have his indirect kisses. what's yours is his and what's his is yours, or whatever he droned on about. plus, it's a combination of two of his favorite things, after all - boba tea and you <33. he'd just bring the straw near your lips and look at you with his signature close-eyed smile as he gently tells you to try out this new boba tea flavor (a lie, it's always the same flavor) he got. he'd insist and insist, causing you to crumble under the pressure of him as you reluctantly sip from the straw. and he always looks so euphoric after sipping the same straw you just done seconds prior. freaky. his day is genuinely ruined if you don't drink from his boba tea at least once.

ayato detests it when he has to have people keep tabs on you, so he tries to prevent this by just... making you stick to him 24/7 :). it's so, so awkward when he's in a board meeting and you're literally next to him playing fuckass blockblast on your phone, all uninterested in their businesspilled businessmaxxing strategies. you'd rather be anywhere but here, sigh. you often catch middle-aged men eyeing you from the corner of their eyes probably wondering who got your random ass here (they don't know it's ayato kamisato </3).

lumine:

(non-consensual touching, freakazoid lumine, taking advantage of someone under the influence of alcohol, spit)

oh brother, someone get her off the stage !!!! wherever you go, she follows, or whatever that bruno mars song says, but she takes it literally. whenever you're enlisting your college subjects for the term, trust she'll be all up in your messages begging and begging for you to send your schedule so she can match yours to a T. it's practically an unspoken rule in your college that the seat next to you is lumine's seat and the other side has to remain empty or else she'll tweak the fuck out. should the lectures end early, lumine will drag you to spend your free time in the campus cafe or library while waiting for your next class. she literally hounds you like a guard dog to ensure no one will approach you.

<3: lumine always goads you into joining her in sorority parties just for two (2) reasons: to kiss you silly while you're inebriated enough to not remember it the following day and to spit in your alcoholic drink while you're unaware. the night starts off fun despite your initial refusal - beer pong, shot tricks with lumine, playing uno, watching that hu tao girl do a cannonball from the house's roof - it's all so.. amusing. you've just survived your finals. lumine and you deserve this night of enjoying your youth, even more so when she brings out the hard liquor with no chaser provided to soothe the burning sensation of alcohol. so it's no wonder how and why you got so drunk in just a few shots in. it's no wonder, too, when you end up in a secluded bathroom away from the life of the party with someone's tongue being shoved down your throat all while grinding into you - aiming to devour you whole with the hunger of a starving beast. you don't remember much; you never do. but particular honey eyes are starting to become familiar for reasons you don't want to entertain... lumine would never, right? but this happens again and again and again until you're left with no choice but to stop going to parties altogether.

lumine and her big fuckass bug eyes love to stare. that's all she did when she met you the first time during freshman year - stare. Ever since then, she'd shown her more extroverted, loud, silly nature, but sometimes she reverts back to her old habits and just stares at you for hours on end with not a single word uttered. admittedly, it's unnerving at times since the only thing (err, person) she stares at when she gets quiet is you. her eyes trail after your every movement, her gaze lapping up every visible inch of you. you get fed up and jokingly slap her back, and she snaps out of her trance with a sheepish chuckle. how silly of her!

<3: whenever lumine visits your dorm, she'd make sure your roommate is out for the night (if lumine had it her way, she'd be your roommate) and that she conveniently forgot to check the weather because now it's pouring outside and shows no signs of stopping soon. oh, woe is her! she looks so stressed and sad, too - how will she get home at this rate!? and with the kindness in your heart, you step in to offer sharing your bed with her. you don't even get to finish your sentence before she's enthusiastically agreeing with your offer. in the wake of the night, nestled in your cramped bed with no space left between the two of you, lumine patiently waits until you are lulled into the embrace of slumber. when she sees the slow rise and fall of your chest is when she reaches out a tentative hand to grope your breast through the thin fabric of your tank top. you're not wearing any bra. lumine bites her lip to prevent a moan from escaping. this is always her favorite part when she stays the night. she gropes, fondles, and squeezes - lumine just can't enough. she literally never sleeps because she's too busy gooning over you all night.

furina:

( manipulation, s*lf-harm, guilt-tripping, unhealthy relationships, dependency)

when you're in a cringefail losergirl yet still clinically insane competition but your opponent is furina de fontaine, global superstar of teyvat, with 60 million followers across all platforms who also happens to be a massive freak when no one's looking: :(

furina is deranged in a way that's akin to rising tides. you let her get away with miniscule, inconspicuous acts at the beginning until slowly but surely, as the water reaches your knees, you're now actively enabling her toxic tendencies under the guise of not wanting to upset sweet, sweet furina. she attaches quick. a week ago, she'd be subtly overstaying her welcome in your cozy apartment, then the following week, you just open your door to see her with bags packed, fully expecting you to accommodate her out of the blue. it's scary living alone, she'd explain, with stalkers and whatnot. but bitch, what about YOUUUU?? you're literally inviting THEE stalker into your house; wake up !!! if she has stalkers, and you (unknowingly) have a stalker.... then who's driving the bus? 😳😳

furina's admittedly a bad roommate when it comes to chores due to her status and schedule as a celebrity. oftentimes, when it's her schedule to wash the dishes or vacuum the living room, there's an 80% chance it's unfulfilled because of how busy it is. it's various small accumulations of errors until an incident happens that breaks the camel's back. you get fed up, and you two have a massive fight because of it, which ends in you walking out of the apartment, and in a fit of anger, telling her to pack her bags to move out. furina's knees buckle to the floor and just starts spiraling, genuinely. you come back to bloody floors and furina's wrists sliced repeatedly all while crying hysterically with a knife in her hands. your blood runs ice cold, burning the flames of what was once anger as you rush to her aid. 'i'm so, so sorry', you'd whisper out as you rock her back and forth. through garbled words, furina would then tell you, 'it won't happen again, I promise. just don't make me leave you, please.' because it's a fate worse than death in her eyes.

emilie:

(murder, mentioned masturbation, minor implication of s*icide, armpit, smell kink...)

<3: you once slept over at emilie's house and brought over your perfume since she was curious about what brand you use. while you were showering, emilie took the limited time she had to masturbate and, to the best of her abilities, shoved her bodily fluids into your favorite perfume :(( like girl, where's the decorum... you come out of the shower and don't even bat an eye to the unusual subtle flush on her cheeks (oh wow, is that a new blush shade on you, emilie? adorbs!) or how your perfume moved to a completely different location from where you put it. pure of heart, dumb of ass. you're dying first in a horror movie.

on a similar note, emilie eventually convinces you into letting her make your perfumes for you. it starts off in small mentions and passing comments of, 'oh, I can easily replicate this perfume's scent, you know?' or, 'hmm, try this sample I made instead.' until you're dragged into her perfume hole and now you must wear the perfumes she specially concocted herself and avoid brands like the plague OR ELSE you'll find her lodging a pistol up to her mouth because what's the point of living if you don't even like the most intimate form of love she can express - scents and perfumes.

<3: SHE HAS A SMELL KINK OKAY.... 😭😭 hear me out.. or don't, damn... but she loves sniffing every part of your body, it's genuinely her biggest turn on which is why she steals your panties for the sole purpose of huffing them like drugs. this is the chanel coco mademoiselle of her world !! she'll even take the bras and t-shirts you've worn because that means it has your body scent on it, awww! <3 and should she be given the chance, she'd definitely huff at your armpits. :(

emilie has definitely killed for you before, and yes, she did get away with it. with her other profession as a forensic cleaner and her connection with chevreuse in the police force, it's practically like taking candy from a baby - unbearably easy. she would lament the corrupt justice system of her country, butttt it benefits her as of this moment so :/ winners love winning. rip bozo, though!

albedo:

(fantasies, mention of dr*gs, smoking, and alcohol)

his biggest fantasy is you ruining his life. the thought of him, an up-and-coming prodigal STEM college student who's predicted to create research breakthroughs the moment he graduates - for all that potential to be thrown away just because of a singular person is actually his favorite thing. he wants the two of you to be dragged down together to rock bottom until there's no way up. but then you could be a fellow honor student too, so like, how can you even ruin his life? in cases like these wherein you're more of a good influence than bad, the downfall moreso lies in the existence of you rather than the actions that you do. just... being next to you poisons albedo's mind and slowly drives him to do crazy, unhinged things. it could be in a fit of want when he impulsively knocks your head over with an object to trap you inside his cramped one-bedroom apartment or in a moment of rage where he ends up stabbing someone who got too close to you. it's in drastic actions done that takes a while for albedo to realize that he fucked himself and his studies over. and... there's a part of him that wants that. to love you so much he ruins his life in the name of you, is that not romance?

but in the event that you are indeed a perceptively bad influence on him, oh. he takes joy in joining you in activities that knowingly destroy your and your health. smoking cigarettes? teach him how to inhale without coughing it up. drinking alcohol to a concerning degree? be sure to bring some for him next time. skipping classes and neglecting your academics? he can do it for you if you want :)

he loves it. ruining his life is a joint effort between you and him.

childe:

(situationship victim childe, universe where childe isn't that freaky.. woah. i will remedy this with my next post (jk...... i think.))

<3: this man literally never fails to piss you off but the dick is too good so you put up with his trashfire attitude on a daily basis just to get laid :(. he's not even horrible in a 'jock, douchebag' way but more of a 'dog who can't leave you alone' way - he attaches himself to your side like superglue and no matter how hard you try to nudge him off, he. will. not. leave!! it's cute at first, but sometimes you turn your phone off just for an hour to be free from his spam texts. he's literally your toxic, manipulative girlfriend, I fear. you don't respond to his texts in 0.0234304 seconds, and now he can't help but worry if you're having an affair behind his back (delusion final boss). he tags you in his Instagram stories and facebook posts when the dms doesn't work and yes, you do end up responding because being outed in public because of CHILDE out of all people puts you in aura debt.

he's def your childhood friend who literally gatekeeps you from anyone that shows even a smidgen of an interest in you :(. when someone taps his shoulder the moment you're out of sight to ask for your number, childe's giving them his and when they hit 'you' up - they get insta-blocked. should an event happens where they do manage to get your number, childe will be the one to terrorize them in messages to leave you the fuck alone, they're spoken for !! even if they may not have a label on their relationship.... it's still a relationship, nonetheless !!!

childe loves cooking for you, and he genuinely crashes out if you eat takeout or try someone else's cooking. fuck off with the wanmin takeout xingqiu, that's probably poisoned. ugh, go away escoffier with your filet mignon doodoo. no, yoimiya, (y/n) doesn't want your fuckass onigiri because childe already packed them lunch !!!!!!! why is everyone so hellbent on feeding you??? childe is actually so close to bringing a pistol to college. he views them all as the ugly hag queen giving snow white the poisoned apple btw.

tells everyone around him, family and friends alike, that he's your boyfriend, which greatly contradicts your given statement because you tell everyone instead that your relationship with him is, 'just complicated'. ouch. he laughs it off outside, but he's throwing up and seething the moment he's alone. he's playing the long game here, people !! it's okay if he's not your boyfriend because he knows he'll be your husband :))) it's all in the mindset. he'll show them all when he inevitably mails them invitations to his wedding with you in a few years. yup.

kinich:

(masturbation, lowk delusion)

kinich... kinich makes a version of you and him in the sims :(. he saw it on tiktok once, and really liked the idea. and he becomes so ingrained in the sims-world version of you and him who are married, woohoos every 10 seconds, have 10 children together with a lizard named ajaw that when he attends his first class next semester he gets a whiplash at seeing you in the flesh. like, oh! he forgot that you weren't dating him and that everything was just a figment of his fantasies for a second there :)

<3: definitely used his real-life pet lizard ajaw to lure you into visiting his room, thanks ajaw! he infodumps about lizards his way into bed with you and he hits it raw with no condom whatsoever for his first time, too. #nolongervirgin. like woah... they were not familiar with kinich's game at awl.... and you end up coming back the next day because he told you he'd explain his PC specs in detail and where he got his gaming chair from like GET UP 😭😭😭

<3: HE JERKS OFF TO YOUR IN-GAME AVATARS. PUT HIM DOWN. like this isn't funny anymore, kinich is so depraved that when he plays online games with you and sees your character model, he starts masturbating while the two of you grind to defeat the enderdragon or try to escape the roblox obby. what's so sexy about 8bit pixels kinich..... and if he's this horrendous with your avatars then don't imagine how hard he's jerking off when you VC on discord with him. yikes.

chasca:

(panty stealing, mention of period and discharge)

<3: chasca loves stealing your panties whenever she manages to find an excuse to visit your house. what you don't know won't hurt you. and trust me, she loves all types of panties that you've worn, but her favorite has to be the used panties stained with either your vaginal discharge or period blood. she can never be grossed out, not when it came from your body - which is exactly why she'll reverently clean it up using her tongue as she inevitably soaks her own panties from the sheer arousal she's experiencing. listen, emilie steals your panties to sniff them - chasca steals your panties to taste your fluids; they are not twins !!

<3: on the topic of pussy... she loves eating your pussy. do not shoot the messenger. she has a oral fixation and just loves tonguing you for hours on end on the days when college isn't demanding your blood and soul. you always end up overstimulated by the time night comes, and you're just begging her to lay off your pussy and look at the fucking tiktoks you sent her !!

chasca, gatekeeper extraordinaire, always waits for you after lectures as a silent stake of claim to you. no one really bothers chasca because of quiet nature and intimidating stance which then extends to you.

xilonen:

(no warnings this is tame, there's more I want to say but-[REDACTED])

if ifa pet-traps you, then xilonen definitely parent-traps you. she just shows up to one of your scheduled hangouts with nepecha hiding behind her legs, explaining how the little girl came from a house of abuse, and expects you to agree in co-parenting her like???? i mean, yeah, you do give in but but but !!! parenting is a serious commitment, xilonen !! what if your friendship with her falls out which will then force you to stop visiting nepecha due to the awkwardness !! xilonen will look at you straight and then say in an exasperated manner, "then just, don't make it happen? ugh, stop overcomplicating things." and well... yeah, she's right actually :(. so now you're obligated to invest time and energy on your newly appointed daughter, nepecha, alongside xilonen. okay happy family.

<3: xilonen loves your tits and it's serious business for her. she worships them like a newfound religion and she even kneads your boobs like a cat and loves laying in between them when it's time to sleep while tv plays in the background. should you complain about your boobs getting sore from all her abuse and wanting the position to be switched for once, then xilonen will gladly offer hers. like, just ask :/ It's literally not that deep because she's still winning either way.

[artbyblastweave]

A few years ago, there was a thread on r/asksciencefiction where someone was fishing for a superhero story with an inverted Omni-Man dynamic, or a setting where Homelander's initial presentation is played straight- a setting where the Superman figure actually is the paragon of morality he's initially presented as, but no other superhero is- a situation where you've got one really competent true-blue hero standing head-and-shoulders in power above what's otherwise a complete nest of vipers.

Someone in the thread floated My Hero Academia; while I haven't read it, my understanding is that that's not really an accurate read of what's going on with Stain's neurosis about All-Might being the only "real hero," that the point of that arc is that Stain's got an insane and unreasonable standard and that taking an endorsement deal, while bad, isn't actually grounds for execution. My own contribution to the thread was Gail Simone's Welcome to Tranquility, where a major part of the backstory involved the faux Justice-League's Superman analogue having a little accident because he's the only one who thought they were morally obligated to go public with the secret life-extending macguffin that the rest of the team is using to enforce comic-book time on themselves and their loved ones; while only a couple members of the team are directly in on it, the rest are conveniently incurious. And Jupiter's Legacy gets tantalizingly close to this- The Utopian, a well-meaning stick-in-the-mud, ultimately gets blindsided and couped by his scheming brother who creates a superhero junta staffed by a Kingdom-Come-style glut of third-gen superheroes, who are framed as fundamentally self-interested because only came onto the scene after most of the situations you legitimately need a superhero to handle have been neutralized. (The rub, of course, is that the comic is also highly critical of the Utopian's intellectually incurious self-righteously 'apolitical' approach to superheroism- if for no other reason than that it left him in a position to get blindsided by a coup!) While Jupiter's Legacy gets the closest, all three of these are only loosely orbiting around the spirit of the original idea, and there's something really interesting there- particularly if the Superman figure isn't hopelessly naive in the same way as Utopian. Because first of all, if you're Metaman or Amazingman or whatever brand-name alias the writer goes with, and you really earnestly mean it, and you put together a team of all the other most powerful heroes on earth in order to pool your resources, and then with dawning horror you gradually begin to realize that everyone in the room besides yourself is a fascist or a con artist or abuser or any other variant of a kid with a magnifying glass eyeing that anthill called Earth- What the hell is your next move?

Do you just call the whole thing off? Can you trust that they'll actually go home if you call the whole thing off? I mean you've put the idea in their heads, are you sure that they aren't going to, like, start the Crime Syndicate in your absence? Do you stick around to try and enact containment, see if getting all of these people on a team makes them easier to keep on a leash? But that's functionally going to make you their enabler pretty quickly, right? Overlooking "should you kill them-" can you kill them? You're stronger than any individual one of them- are you stronger than all of them? The first time one of them really crosses a line in a way you can't ignore- will that be a one-on-one fight? Are they the kind of people capable of putting two-and-two together and pre-emptively ganging up on you if you push back too hard? Do you just start trying to get them killed, or keep them at each other's throats so they can't coordinate anything really nasty? Can you squeeze any positive moral utility out of them, or is that just a way to justify not doing the hard work of taking them down? There've been works where the conceit is to question the default assumption that Superman in specific would be a good person, and there've been works where the conceit is to question the default assumption that superheroes in general would be good people. Something to be done, I think, with questioning the default assumption that everyone Superman becomes professionally close to would be good, and to explore how he'd handle it if they weren't.

[nathaslosthershit]

Some Bad, But a Whole Lot of Good (LS2)

Summary: To the fans, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume the week after his replacement had been hell for newly dropped Logan Sargeant, but to the people who knew him, they weren't worried. Warning: James Vowles slander, a lot of it, I made Logan yell at him because I want to yell at him

Getting fired a week before your first child was born wasn't on anyone's bucket list. But here Logan was.

He was mad- no he was furious. Sure, the past few months with the team have been miserable, but this was the worst timing possible.

"Why now? Why not the two weeks we were off on break?" Logan asks yells. He doesn't lose his cool, at least not like this, not by yelling at his boss.

"Logan, you have to understand we are in between a rock and a hard place. I am truly sorry but it's a difficult time for us-" Vowles begins to explain.

"A difficult time for you? I am about to have a fucking baby, James. Next week! What the fuck am I supposed to do?" He got up and ran his hand through his hair. "You just had a baby a year ago, I would have thought you of all people would have thought this through more."

"Believe me, we have Logan, we have discussed this at length for a long time now."

"Oh fuck you! You have been thinking about this for a long time and choose now to do something about it? God, James, why do you hate me so much? I know I haven't met expectations, I know I have fucked up, but I still have given everything to this team and this is how you end it?" he finally met his boss'- ex boss' now, I guess, stare.

As Logan looked at his team principal, he tried to see any remorse or sincerity in his eyes but just as he had suspected, James' apology was bullshit, completely insincere. He knew this wasn't going anywhere, he didn't even know why he was fighting.

Formula 1 had been the dream for a while. Logan had let himself sacrifice everything he could to achieve it. He tried to tell himself that he had made it and that he was happy, but it wasn't true. He couldn't face the reality of the dream he worked so hard for not being everything he had imagined.

After meetings about contract termination and how they were to proceed, a sad little goodbye party filled with people that were probably thrilled to have him go, and an actually heartfelt apology and goodbye from his teammate and those he worked closely with, the American left the factory for the last time.

The most difficult part of this whole affair? Telling his very pregnant wife that he was now unemployed, a week until their first child's due date.

After tears, cursing a certain British boss' bloodline, and dissociative silence, Logan sat next to his wife as she suddenly burst into laughter.

He was stunned, she was practically doubling over, at least as much as she could in her current condition. The sight so ridiculous given the circumstances that he began to laugh too.

Several minutes were spent laughing until their stomachs hurt and then trying to catch their breath before either one of them could say another word.

"This is such terrible timing!" she said, wiping her eyes as she continued to giggle.

"Could not me a worse time" he replied as he started to laugh even harder.

"God, we shouldn't be laughing at this! We have officially lost our minds"

"Perfect timing too! Just like everything else"

It was ironic, this was the absolute worse scenario Logan could come up with but this was also the hardest he had laughed in a long time. When was the last time he actually laughed? The last time he actually felt joy about anything involving his job?

As if she could sense what he was thinking, she took a few deep breaths, finally calming down, as she said, "This is insane of me to say, but maybe this is a good thing?"

He knew where she was going, he thought the same, but he needed to hear her rationalize it before he agreed.

"I mean, honey, you were miserable. And I am sorry because I did love some of the people on your team but most of them were jackasses! It was such a time commitment and you have spent so long giving everything to them just for the team to spit in your face. Plus, with savings and such, we have enough to be fine for a while, even with the baby. You finally can put your family and yourself first"

She was right, it was time he admitted to himself how much he had hated his job in the past few months. How miserable it made him. How he could hardly enjoy anything in his life because he was always thinking of how to improve, how to show he still has potential even with the shitty car he was given.

"Im sorry. I- its not fair that I spent so long chasing a dead end dream that I couldn't actually enjoy what I do have. I mean, I could never race again and I would be 1000 times happier with out little family then I could ever be in F1. I will never not put you both first again." He said as he looked at her, held the bump, and genuinely got to relish in what was to come.

The first race weekend since Logan was replaced, he wasn't stewing in his misery, he was sitting in the hospital next to his wife, holding his first born, and the last thing on his mind was what was happening anywhere else in the world outside of the room his entire life was currently in.

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, jensonbutton, and others

logansargeant New job

user1 hey! so this is insane

user2 unemployment has never looked better

alexalbon This is a crazy way to hard launch fatherhood but good on you, mate!

logansargeant got to keep them guessing

user4 dilf era yes please

oscarpiastri how long is the contract?

logansargeant full time for 18 years, then after there is a bit more leeway, but there is certainly no retirement in my future

user3 replaced right before he had a BABY?! oh that British fuck better watch out

jensonbutton Such a big moment! So happy to see where life takes you, I know it will be great!

A/N: Had to finish this right after the news he is testing for indycar in november dropped!!! U-S-A U-S-A!

[catboysooyoung]

Honestly after rereading gsgw for more context on Yeongeun's character, I understand now just how frustrated she must've been with the whole Arm situation, and why she was incredibly pissed at Jaekwan.

Go Yeongeun is someone who is a bit self conscious (she doesn't show it too much), in that she does not want to be a burden/be considered dead weight.

She is very strict with herself, and instills in her mind that she needs to do her best to contribute (e.g. in their recruitment test she tries to come up with her own answer, in Looky Mart she brought a key item that would end up helping her and Soleum's group).

As a result, it seems she thinks that being too reliant on others can be distasteful and burdensome to the other party. I think it's why she always tries so damn hard. This brief scene between her and Kim Soleum really stuck with me:

"You must feel a bit pressured." [..] Go Yeongeun spoke with a complicated expression. "People keep leaning on you." [...]"They're scared and anxious, so I hope you don't find it too exhausting and distasteful."

Go Yeongeun is someone who always tries her best on her own, hell, she's even described as a self-taught medical professional despite never having taken the medical exam. So of course she can't possibly imagine just coasting, and not putting in the effort or pulling their weight in a team mission.

So you can imagine how she felt in Looky Mart. She had to follow her bureau senior around, even if he was doing unreasonable things, unable to act on her own as she's a spy and couldn't afford to rouse any suspicion, only to end up nearly contaminated had it not for her reliable former coworker turned coworker (whom she thought had DIED in action just a month ago, by the way), who was kind enough for her to consider to be a work friend... Coming to her aid. Of course she must have felt so indebted. And in the text, she did feel bad, because she felt that it was her fault that she hadn't prepared enough, or prepared the right way. And her work friend, as kind and reliable as always, while having a few screws loose, as always, even sacrificed his own limb to get them a ticket out of there. He did ALL of that, all that work, and so of course she had to pull her weight too; get the rescued kids in order, treated, taken care of. And then... They had to pick up this senior agent, who was about to end up as chopped liver. And her work friend, as if barbecuing his arm wasn't enough, he gave this supposed senior the precious potion that should've been used on himself....

I'd be mad too if I was her.

[anika-ann]

Take the Ache - pt.3

Part 3: The Soul in Soldier On

Type: series, slightly canon-divergent, idiots in love with sprinkles of angst

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 6950

Series masterlist (and summary)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, near-death experience, Steve raising his voice, slight angst, communication skills that need some improvement, language

A/N: written for Stella’s Starry Winter Sky challenge, using various prompts; DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; the title is, just like chapter titles, taken from The Script’s No Good in Goodbye

A/N 2:  No use of Y/N. Main character’s nickname made up by Steve is 'Lo (will be expalined at some point, promise). Thank you for reading so far and enjoy 💕

Steve’s glare – that near-murderous glare you had believed only to be reserved for the likes of HYDRA or Tony when he was being overly unreasonable – hurt.

You might not be willing to admit it, but the ache from having it directed on you was so acute it made it hard for you to breathe.

You had thought you had braced yourself enough, having counted on Steve not being happy when you’d step inside the Quinjet – but clearly you had not.

Seeing him again was like a slap to the face and for once it had nothing to do with jealousy – it was simply his look. The flames in his blue irises burned so icily when he watched you stride in with a box of equipment that you might as well get a frostbite in their pyre. His disapproval of you showing up mere minutes before the jet would head straight into the lion’s den again was crystal clear; and he didn’t even know half of it.

But he was not the only one whose emotions were burning like a wildfire.

It had been long two days for all of you.

Two days of gathering more intel, of training, of Natasha recovering not only in the cradle but also in physical therapy. Two days of having your nose buried in the dismantled EMP and the ruin it had caused, two days of cooperating with the applied sciences department, two nights of next to no sleep; that was how little time you had. You hadn’t even considered actually repairing the destroyed gear for your team as there were more pressing issues; after all, with the exception of Steve’s shield, you had an extra piece of everything. Examining the nature of the damage done was much more important than repairs themselves.

Because the damage done could be hiding the key to preventing another hit and if you were lucky, reversing the effects of the EMP.

The good news was that you were rather confident that you had found the key; now you just had to make it work.

The bad news was that time truly was a luxury.

You didn’t have a second to spare. The Avengers including Sharon were heading to face the rogue HYDRA agents from very fraction that had knocked out your equipment with the bloody EMP now.

The mere idea of letting them face it again without help was suffocating. However, the fact they were to fight the same people who had hurt Nat through your invention, even if indirectly, had the cold of your fear burst into blazing determination.

And the fact Steve looked like he was going to block your path and prevent you from doing your job of protecting them, his shoulders squaring upon seeing you instead of gracing you with one of his usual warm smiles, was almost enough for your growing anger to swallow the hurt. He could brace all he wanted; there was no way he could ever make you sit back on your ass at the compound, when the solution – a shield of its own – was at your fingertips.

And if he did think he could stop you, well he'd better think again.

Disapproval bounced off of each of you like a damn ping-pong ball even before either of you opened your mouth, but as much as you cared for Steve – a lot more than was comfortable or even bearable – you were not going to take whatever bullshit he was about to throw at you.

Because this wasn’t about him. Not only.

And while you knew all too well that he was a force of nature moulded into a shape of a man, you knew that not even Tony’s Mark 63 would be able to drag you back to your lab at the moment.

“What are you doing here?”

You winced at Steve’s sharp tone, swallowing the ‘hello to you too’; and cursing internally as even in your state of mind and heart, you could not not notice the beautifully cut features of his face as if standing out thanks to his own distress.

You wished he at least wasn’t so distractingly gorgeous when he was about to pick a fight with you; his nearly unearthly beauty was almost more absurd than the fact he of all people was picking up a fight with you.

Your closest friend – the man whose company you longed for in any form, your heart yearning for his arms around you, his tender fingers in your hair, his lips on yours – was mad at you for showing up. You were aware his turbulent emotions probably had little to do with your person and more with concern for the safety of his team, but that didn’t make your ribcage ache any less. Because no matter how silly your dreams and dust of hopes were, you were friends. And despite the pressure you knew Steve felt, you wished he would have treated you more like your friend Steve and less like the Captain and the head strategist of the Avengers Initiative.

But you couldn’t have all that you’d wish, could you? You had already established that. And that as fine. It was dandy, because time was a luxury you did not have and thus you could not spend the precious entity on wallowing in your sad little feelings.

Still, your gaze instinctively flickered to the person who had actually invited you here despite your best efforts not to and to stand your ground on your own instead.

Steve’s glare followed your line of sight, his jaw set so tight it might cut glass.

“What the hell is she doing here, Tony?” he demanded, the words barely making it through his grinding teeth.

“Jesus, Steve, have some manners…” Bucky muttered under his breath on your right, but Steve paid him no more mind than to you all of sudden.

He was too busy seething.

His hands were curled into fists, drawing attention to just how nice his hands looked in the fingerless gloves that might have not been a fashion statement, but sure were an art in their own right. It was maddening, really-

Tony only sighed as he made his way to your pair nonchalantly, crossing his arms on his chest.

“Why Steve, Heron’s here because she’s been designing a weapon that could withstand the EMP hit –or better yet, reverse it,” Tony informed him, shooting you an encouraging smile that seemed to irritate Steve further.

Steve’s reaction, in turn, irritated you; your emotions, having already been on edge for days, threatened to spill over. Again.

“Great. So she can hand it over and stay in the lab-“

“Stay safe, you mean,” Sam suggested helpfully, earning an icy glare that could scorch the earth.

“Yes, safe,” Steve echoed. “That’s my whole point-“

“You have a funny way of making that point then,” you interjected, your heart skipping a startled beat when Steve’s gaze snapped back to you.

Even as you caught the slightest flicker of shame in his features, you winced again and swiftly averted the weight of smouldering gaze.

It wasn’t that you were scared of him, of the power you knew hummed under the surface, of the knowledge he could just could snap you in half – if anything, that thought made your heart beat even wilder, unnervingly so, because you so did not have time nor mental capacity to deal with that, nor with the way he looked so majestic and righteous in the stealth suit – but the lack of gentleness and understanding you were used to was like a heartburn you did not know how to swallow.

Even with a job to do, you weren’t sure how to hold you head high.

You couldn’t turn off your emotions when the situation demanded it like most people on this jet; after all, you were not an agent, which, obviously, was the whole damn problem.

So she can hand it over and stay in the lab, Steve had all but spitted.

It shouldn’t have stung so sharp but it had.

“It’s not ready yet,” you explained, voice less steady than you’d like. “I need more time. Hopefully I’ll have it prepared by the time we land and can give you a fairer fighting chance by knocking out their biggest weapon-- but I need time for that,” you added when Steve opened his mouth to protest, your determination finally rendering your tone uncompromising. “So I’m coming with you, whether you authorised it or not, because you don’ hold all the power there is. Deal with it.”

Steve’s jaw ticked the tinniest bit; as you dared to meet his gaze, the emotions in his irises raged like a sea disturbed from its peace by a violent storm with your name.

He leaned in, lips parted with an invitation to be kissed or argued with – but as he sucked in a breath, a new voice, soft but resolute, joined the conversation from your left, causing your gut to clench uncomfortably and your eyes burn with something else than determination.

“Oookay, alright. Why don’t we all take a breath and think for a bit. We need to go over the plan again anyway,” Sharon said.

You did take a deep breath.

You did so even as it felt like you were stranded in a desert and the sight of Steve’s shoulders slumping a bit, his expression softening with concern just a fraction as if he was finally reacting to a voice of reason just because it was Sharon’s, made you feel like the air you breathed in was full of grains of sand, stinging and scratching in your lungs.

You cleared your throat and pretended to be brave in face of heartache and being on a jet which would head in direction of trained killers, nodding to yourself as you tightened your grip on the box in your arms.

“I need to get working. Excuse me.”

As you pushed past suddenly speechless Steve, Tony gracefully offering to carry the equipment for you, you’d swear you heard Bucky mumble ‘great job, punk,’ and Steve damn-near growl in return with a gratuitous ‘fuck’ on his lips.

Your stomach had swung at the take-off, the reality of the danger you were heading towards slowly sheeting you as you had settled at your make-shift workshop, trying to ignore the low voices discussing the plan of attack. However, your nerves had quickly dispersed, replaced by the acute need to get things done; because you had maybe minutes. You had been but a mere step from finishing the ‘EMP eater’ – patent pending – and your only chance was to finish it in time.

And you did.

When the weapon’s control light flickered to life, an astonished gasp left your lips, automatically curling up in a victorious smile, your heart fluttering with familiar excitement.

Eureka!

You did it.

Fucking take that, HYDRA. You’ll be eating dust, you bit back, smirking.

Hell yeah you did that. You got the EMP reflector – and perhaps that was a better name – ready in time.

If only the euphoria spreading in your veins wasn’t iced down so soon with the realization of what the next phase was.

Because next phase in development of anything was testing.

You had all the faith you could afford in your invention, always had, but you had one clear rule you’d push for come hell or high water:

You would never let anyone face the enemy with an untested prototype.

You gulped at the unfamiliar tickle of panic in the back of your throat, your gaze flickering to Tony who was still talking to Steve, Mr. Butt-headed Head Strategist himself. You heart threatened to give out with how fiercely it thundered against your sternum, but you knew you had no choice.

Calling out Tony’s name lowly earned you two pairs of eyes on you; one curious, the other sharp. While Tony made his way to you, Steve turned to Sharon and you’d swear that in that moment, you barely cared about the fact he turned to her like a goddamn sunflower to the sun. You were a little too taken by the fact it took Tony once glance at you to know.

You and Tony had never really understood each other without words, which had everything to do with the fact he was the definition of hyperverbal; but today you did.

You got it, didn’t you.

Yes.

Is it time then? his eyes inquired, concern drawing his eyebrows together even as it could not quite hide the flash of mischief and excitement in his irises.

You nodded, even as the movement was shaky. Yeah, Tony. It’s time. …I’m terrified, but it’s time.

Eu-fucking-reka.

The fact your knees still felt a little weak a few minutes later, now dressed to the part and clinging to your little device like a lifeline, did not make approaching Steve any easier.

He took one glance at you, his eyes going almost comically wide with shock before they regained the fiery rejection from earlier; blew it to proportion, in fact.

Steve Rogers was a tall man, but as his spine straightened with indignation, he seemed to grow another five inches, his hands curling into fists so tight you were sure that had his forearm not be covered, his tendons would all be on full display with the powerful clench, which would be a sight to beho--- so not the time.

You inhaled shakily as his face seemed void of any emotion bar the simple resolute no written all over.

“You’re not serious. You’re not coming with us into the field-“

“None of you can operate this weapon, Steve,” you blurted out before he could protest further. Mostly because it’s a prototype I haven’t tested yet and I’d never fucking let you touch an untested weapon, you nearly added, hoping that much was obvious. “I can. And Tony gave me protective gear-”

“Seriously, Stark?” Steve snapped to the man and you regretted having mention Tony even as your intention had merely been to give credit where it was due and express your gratitude, rather than shift the focus of Steve’s – partially understandable – anger. “You just happen to keep gear and Kevlar lying around to fit her perfectly.”

Tony, for his part, was perfectly nonchalant again, which you knew would only pissed off Steve further; but you had to admit it was a little funny to watch him be so when he was speaking on your behalf. It certainly was a welcomed distraction from the deep pit inside your stomach that had formed there the second you realized you had not, in fact, had any other option that to go face bloody HYDRA agents.

“Of course not. I don’t just happen, Rogers. We’ve worked on it together specifically to make it fit her and her needs, just in case she ever did need to come with us to the field. My idea. What can I say, I’m a visionary. You’re welcome.”

“That’s never meant to be an option! She’s not--- I can’t-“ Steve’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he averted Tony’s challenging gaze, his chest expanding rapidly and deflating as his eyes flickered briefly over you only to return to Tony himself. “Did you give a single thought to her safety? What if we can’t protect her out there?”

You gulped. The sentiment was very sweet and echoed your own fear; but it had nothing on a fear much greater, one that had anger at Natasha having been hurt and at Steve talking about you as if you weren’t standing right there simmer in your lungs.

“Well then we’re not much of mighty heroes, are we?” Tony shot back, one corner of his lips quirking in a smirk that alone had Steve bristle before Tony even continued. “But sure, if you hate the gear I made so much, we can just give her a simple bulletproof vest and a helmet that doesn’t really fit-”

If Steve had glared at you murderously when you had bordered the jet, right now, Tony was being murdered by the most painful and slowest death possible.

Not that it made him as much as flinch.

Briefly, you wondered if a few years of glares like that from Steve would make you just as immune; you hoped to never find out. Though as with the current state of your relationship with Steve, it seemed you just might.

You could almost see the wheels in his head turning, all the alternatives projecting in his head like a movie about goddamn time-loops, tens of versions of reality changing based on his decision, going through every possible outcome, possible risks and potential damage, his strategic mind carding through the scenarios and frantically searching for the one with least danger to his team.

And you knew exactly which option he’d have to choose, inevitably coming to the same conclusion as you had, but you still held your breath, your heartbeat seemingly filling the space of the jet.

You straightened as if jolt of electricity ran up your spine when Steve’s eyes suddenly turned to you, your nerves at the serious stare he casted your way making words come out before you could think twice.

“Oh, so you know I’m actually standing right he-“

“You don’t disobey a single order,” Steve said flatly. “You never stay alone. You don’t do any unexpected moves. If you get hurt, if you get as much as goddamn scratch, I will hold you personally responsible. Do you understand that, Heron?”

“Yes, Captain,” you said automatically, wishing you could say you sounded sassy like Tony would, but you did not.

You were too consumed by shame at what Steve’s Captain voice did to you even when you were at odds with him. And too scared and too stunned by the fact he actually did agree with you going.

Steve did not seem satisfied with your answer, taking a step closer. Tony, bless him, somehow got the hint for once –being oh so satisfied with winning so easy too, no doubt – and disappeared into the depths of the Quinjet.

You, in turn, gulped as Steve loomed over you.

“Steve, I-“

“Lo, I’m serious.”

“Yeah, like a heart attack, I know-“

“No, you don’t,” Steve interjected matter-of-factly, something so familiar and gentle creeping into his voice, making your breath hitch and the rest of the world fade away. “I-- we cannot have you hurt, we cannot lose you. I know you work with weapons, I know you know this, but the people we’re about to face have no conscience and they won’t hesitate to shoot to k-…”

He licked his lips and lowered his gaze as if he couldn’t bring himself to say the word that had your temples throb with fear.

And then, your own fear seemed to dissipate into thin air, just like you knew it would if Steve had only touched you and unwittingly lent you some of his strength and bravery. With tenderness contrasting almost absurdly with his previous outbursts, he placed his palms on your shoulders, their warmth seeping into your skin even through Kevlar, his gaze boring into yours with urgency that had your heart flutter. His voice, as if following the lead of his touch, grew softer as well, almost pleading.

“If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to do this. Just give us the… whatever brilliant device you created and walk us through it. I can-“

“I want to do this, Steve,” you opposed, relaxing slightly at his offer – one you knew you couldn’t accept, for so many reasons, but welcomed it nevertheless, the outstanding prove of his care for you you had craved so much. “They hurt Nat. They hurt my friend, and could have killed her. They could have killed all of you and I won’t stand for that.”

His gaze roamed your face, frows furrowed worry that had every cell in your body shudder, something soft and warm humming inside your chest – and for a moment, you granted yourself a few seconds of revelling in that feeling. Basking in Steve’s proximity, his sincere concern for your safety that seemed to reach beyond you being under his command; and all that pain of the past weeks felt so silly all of sudden, your heart a fool not for having fallen for him, but for avoiding him and trying to push away the sweet ache of being hopelessly in love with him.

His thumb ran gently over the curve of your shoulder, squeezing lightly as he took a deep breath, his voice heavy with gravity.

“You stay with at least one of us at all times. Anyone starts shooting, you duck, you hide, you listen-“

“-and don’t disobey a single order, yes, I heard you the first time.”

The sound of your name on his lips was coloured by exasperation and urgency, his hands flexing on your shoulders. You instinctively covered his hand on your right shoulder, the tender gesture causing him to relax slightly, an emotion etched onto his face you had trouble deciphering with how busy you were with calming your racing heart, humming contentedly at his proximity after having been pushing him away.

“Steve. I get it. I did hear you,” you whispered, a lame attempt at a joke rising one corner of your lips in a lopsided smile even as it was the furthest thing from fun: “Unlike some people on this plane, I don’t have a death wish-”

From a terrible distance, Bucky’s cough clearly covering a laugh reached you, flushing your cheeks with realization of the – dare to say intimate – exchange between you and Steve being observed by others.

And yet; you didn’t care zilch for anyone watching when Steve’s right hand shifted, now resting on the curve between your throat and shoulder, thumb accidentally brushing your jaw, causing you to gulp at the profound sincerity in his gaze and words alike.

“Noted, but please understand. I’m not--- I’m sorry I’ve been so short with you, Lo. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I—you just… you haven’t been trained for this. I’m worried about you.”

A vacuum born in a middle of an aircraft.

Someone must have sucked out all the air out of the space of the jet, that was the only explanation for why your chest felt so full, so heavy and so light at once.

Hypnotized by Steve’s gaze, you’d swear you could drown in the gentle blue of his irises, your only salvation being the warmth still radiating off his palms and the expression on his face, which had at some point drawn rather close to yours. Your head was spinning as tip of his thumb almost, almost angled your head up to make sure you held his gaze. Almost as if he was cradling your jaw to kiss you-

“I worry about you every day,” fell from your lips unwittingly, the flash of something in Steve’s expression starling you and causing you to inhale shakily. “Uhm, I mean… about all of you. But, uhm I-- I’ll be fine. I have the mightiest heroes to protect me while I try to protect them.”

“Yes,” he whispered, a statement and an oath. “Yes you do.”

You have us. You have me.

For the briefest moment, Steve appeared to be contemplating the greatest mysteries of life and universe, holding you gaze with such intent you’d believe he had found the answers to them right there in your eyes, your lips parting as breath caught in your throat. His gaze flickering down and back up. His own pretty pink lips pursed the tinniest bit as if in invitation – or perhaps you were imagining things, you had to be – and to hell with everything, you were seconds from leaning closer just to find out if they were as soft as they appeared and as you had always imagined.

And then you heard someone draw in a cautious breath, reality settling in and you withdrew, seeing Sharon from the corner of your eye leaning onto the near stack of boxes, the sight like a bucket of icy water poured into your lungs, Steve’s hands sliding from your shoulders, one of them hovering by your arm.

You could smack yourself.

You could touch a living wire and it would not be enough of a punishment for allowing yourself to get wrapped up in a little fantasy world, in the castles in the air Steve’s soft words and touch had drawn in perfect detail despite not giving another promise than to protect you like he would for anyone.

Idiot. Stupid, foolish little idiot, what were you thinking, even indulging in a feeling like this-

“I’ll do it,” Steve said as if knowing exactly what Sharon was about to say and it should have been like another slap to your face. But for all your scolding and your racing heart that had begun to ache all over again, you cared little for the future lovers’ telepathy, only caring about the strange emotion, deep even if undecipherable, etched into Steve’s features. Caring about how the ‘I’ll do it’ sounded like it had less to do with a Captain being responsible for his subordinates’ safety and more about his loved ones, romantic or platonic ones. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll brief her and then let you guys know if there any changes.”

It was silly and you knew sobering up would hurt; but in order to not fall apart at the thought of going somewhere where HYDRA agents would shoot at you, you allowed the petty victory of Steve taking care of you personally and caring wash over you, charming up a small reassuring smile.

“Thank you, Steve.”

Your smile slightly widened as Steve, walking you through the plan and blueprints, demanded at least three times if you were sure and whether the Kevlar-lined uniform and the cowl were good enough quality.

You forgave him the foolish question, mostly offended on Tony’s behalf rather than your own; but mainly grateful he still cared enough to ask.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Sam’s smirk and Bucky elbowing him to the ribs as if to stop it.

Walking into enemy territory with the Avengers felt like entering the most surreal of dreams.

In your own uniform and with your own – dare to say – weapon, perhaps you might fool someone into believing that you belonged; which was even more surreal that the fact you were here in the first place.

And yet, the most surreal of all things was the fact that you not only appeared to be but actually also felt strangely, deceivingly calm; and if not calm, than certainly less nervous that you had expected.

You assumed you had Steve to thank for that.

Just like with the briefing, he took it upon himself to be the closest to your side, to act like your main shield, figuratively and literally.

With him, he brought a wave of reassurance rising like a tide to wash over the exposed edge you’d find yourself on, the whisper of safe growing louder whenever the lightest of touch of a hand brushed over your side, your arm, whenever the advance allowed him to do so.

It warmed your rapidly beating heart, increasing the whoosh of blood past your ears, despite the logical part of your brain telling you that his decision wasn’t only a personal one, but also a strategic one.

He was the one most likely to protect you even if the EMP hit before you could use the device.

You had tried to lace Tony’s suit with as similar EMP-resistant alloy as the applied sciences could develop with the weapons you had got your hands on, but it was no guarantee – and without his full control over the suit, he might be relatively safe, but unable to properly defend anyone else.

Bucky’s vibranium arm was a fine complicated net of connectors, inductors and well-integrated circuits that might have been made to withstand physical force, but less so an EMP hit.

Sam’s wings too could turn into a nuisance upon the discharge. Sharon was a separate entity as her task was to hack into the network and let you all in with Clint as a back-up. Bruce was, in Steve’s opinion, a little too unpredictable. And Natasha was still recovering, left to remotely help you coordinate from the compound if needed.

On the other hand, Steve’s only three pieces of electronics were his StarkWatch, the comms and the sleeve with electromagnets for his shield which was more of a question of comfort than a necessity.

Him becoming your designated guardian was a natural choice.

And it was all turning out almost dandy.

Sharon hacked in. Clint had all of your sixes. No sight of an EMP as per Tony’s scanners, not yet anyway. You advanced through the building, relatively quiet and stealthy, your team’s voices in your ear and Steve’s occasional touch grounding you as your heart kept picking up its pace the deeper into the facility you went, your breaths turning shaky, your stomach beginning to coil uncomfortably with a warning from an instinct as old as humanity.

And then it all went to shit.

Steve leaving your side shouting at you to take cover in a large space of a warehouse where there was barely anything to hide behind.

Flashes and terrible cacophony of gunshots.

Metal hitting metal.

Bodies hitting the ground.

Wet sounds of blood following dull punches to what must have been bone.

Sparks flying and your vision instinctively blurring with distressed tears as your heartbeat grew so loud and frantic it nearly swallowed the terrible noise of a battle.

And yet, one thing pierced through like a lightning through the skies.

“Heron, now!”

Two simple words, spoken urgently over the comms, Clint’s voice with an unmistakable tinge of pain.

You winced, the sound cutting through you like a knife.

They needed you.

They needed you now, because your name wasn’t a warning but a prompt. A plea. The EMP was here again. And it was about to be discharged and your friends were about to be rendered powerless and made vulnerable.

Well, not in this fucking life. Not on my watch.

You scrambled to move from behind your improvised hide-out, the metallic edge of your EMP dampener digging into your palms painfully as you peeked over the shelves stuffed with containers.

For a moment, the sight of the fight stopped you short in horror, the only thing circuiting and rebooting painfully fast being your brain, a sharp haziness taking over your perception.

And for that split second, you wondered if this was how Steve saw the world with his enhanced senses; it hit you all at once, a cacophony of a battle captured in a slowly moving image.

The copper smell of blood and gunpowder; the still noise of violence; the salty tang of sweat and the bitter taste of adrenalin on your tongue; the weight of your own device nearly succumbing to gravity at the sudden weakness in your hands.

Tens of agents clad in black with a startingly red symbol on their biceps.

Automatic electricity-powered riffles. 

The EMP whose every fucking circuit you knew like the back of your hand by now.

The Avengers, standing almost in line like avenging angels, way closer to you than you had thought as they had taken down all of those who had come at them before – real, unconscious, hurt people scattered across the floor.

All of your friends breathing heavily from exertion; and some of them in the air.

Perhaps it was the adrenalin, but you’d swear you could hear the EMP charging, ready to be fired, and the world stopped altogether. A still image pulsing in sync with your own heartbeat.

Tony and Sam in the air.

Bucky clenching his metal fist.

Clint reaching behind him to grab another arrow his automatic quiver offered him.

Sharon wearing Natasha’s new bites.

All of them but mere seconds from being knocked down – some more literally than others.

Not in this fucking life.

Not on my fucking watch.

You were not sure if you truly were so fast, perhaps having borrowed some supersoldier speed; or if the world around you truly turned so slow.

But you sprang from behind the containers and fell on your knees, the pain not quite registering as you slid just under Sam’s feet.

You punched the button on your dampener with all your might, the blue control light turning green a split second after the crackling sound of electricity rushed through your body.

An elementary knowledge said: when everything works as well and safe as it’s supposed to, electricity is meant to be invisible.

And yet.

You saw it.

You felt it.

And it hurt.

You’d swear you could see the wave of the EMP discharge meet the wave sent by your dampener halfway, if a little closer to your part of the room.

The part of the room you had been in before the burning current of pain rushed from your hand through your arm straight into your chest and sent you flying backwards, a dull sound of someone shouting your name reaching you from a terrible distance.

There was fire licking at your veins, a crushing weight settling on your chest, a blur of gorgeous dark blue moving like a shadow behind your eyelids despite your eyes remaining wide open.

The phantom sound of your name haunted your ears over your own heartbeat punching like a sledgehammer inside of your skull. Someone’s gentle but urgent touch was on your arms, squeezing and you realised your lips were moving just as urgently, your words hopefully making sense – even as they didn’t seem to make sense to you at the moment.

“Go. Go, I don’t know--- how long they will-- be done— down.”

The EMP. The dampener, you thought you meant.

If all the gods and patron saints of science and technology aligned and blessed you, you had managed to not only protect your friends from the hit, but sent the very hit back at the bastards who had fired it, disabling their own weapons.

The voice and the grounding touch disappeared with reluctance and a frustrated grunt; the weight on your chest stayed.

Were you breathing? Your lungs burned, so you probably were.

But were you?

Your back laid on something solid and cold and uncomfortably hard; but you had the perfect view of the blurs and chaos in front of you. A wall then, not the floor.

The chaos. The noise. Sledgehammer inside your skull.

Useless, hungry sucks of breath.

Punches. Fire. Cracks.

Flurry of movements; someone always appeared to be in front of you to block your hazy view. To protect you.

But that didn’t really matter, because you couldn’t breathe.

It felt like a damn quinjet was sitting on your sternum and was not about to take off.

Where had all the air gone?

A pair of pretty blue eyes attracting your gaze like a magnet, pulling you into its orbit with inevitability.

Warm leather and hot skin brushing against your cheeks a your cowl was pushed back – by Steve’s palms, you thought – fingers spreading to cradle your head, keeping your face upright and helping you to hold his gaze. What a gentleman.

Now if he could just get you some air too. Maybe from his own lips, they seemed so close and so far away.

“Talk to me, Lo. Tell me what-“

His voice was really pretty, that commanding tilt to it that would have made your head spin if it wasn’t already spinning like crazy.

“Sent it back-“ you rasped, your lips feeling strangely dry and tingly, but it didn’t matter, because Steve was asking a question and Steve had to be answered to. “The frequency should have--- reverse it and--- penetrate the mat-- material you-- brought me.” You were sure you drew in a breath but the air was not there, where was it--- Steve seemed to be alright, even if a little scared – or was he proud? Why was shaking his head? “Turning the discharge--- against them.”

You tried to gather strength to cough to release the pressure in your lungs; one of Steve’s hand must have moved from your face, because the warmth disappeared from one of your cheeks and it reappeared like a rather painful squeeze on your shoulder.

Your coughing didn’t work. You tried to breathe in –but it was not working.

It was not working.

“Lo, sweetheart, not what I meant. You need to slow down your breathing-“

“Can’t-“ breathe at all, you heard yourself wheeze, confused by Steve’s insane request to breathe less.

A firm grasp on your wrist pulled your attention form the lovely sea of panicked blue, a curse reaching your ears, a pull on your wrist as Steve tore your StarkWatch away, a blur of quick dextrous fingers pulling off his glove and taking of his watch too, putting the latter back on your wrist instead.

Were his hands blurry because you had tears in your eyes, because he was moving so fast, or because his hands were shaking? It looked a little like they were shaking. Your vision was closing off from its edges, however, so that might have been your imagination.

“FRIDAY, run the analysis--- Lo, does your chest hurt?”

You were vaguely aware of your heavy hand, the one Steve wasn’t holding, gesturing somewhat, glad he finally fucking noticed.

“Can’t--- breathe-“

“Agent of codename Heron is experiencing a severe arrhythmia-“

Oh okay that explains a lot, screamed your mind with surprising clarity, the world around Steve gaining sharper edges for a brief moment. There was the red and gold of Tony’s suit somewhere on your left, the glint of Sam’s wings near him too.

“What can I do, FRIDAY?” Steve barked, sharp and with an unfamiliar edge that sounded a whole lot like fear that would have grown in your chest too had there been any space left under the crushing weight sitting on it already.

“Immediate medical evac recommended, with an AED and medical personnel at hand for the duration of the transport, and-“

You could hear the words sharply now, see Steve’s features twist, but none of it seemed to make sense as despite the haze dispersing, darkness began to swallow the edges of your vision again.

Nothing made sense anymore but the terrified blue of Steve’s eyes.

Then, a wild swing of your body.

The star on Steve’s chest.

The unforgiving yet soft material of his suit.

His voice.

“Stay with me, Lo. Keep your eyes, open, sweetheart. We’re gonna get you home safe… You’re going to be fine… you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay…”

But you weren’t okay.

You knew as much.

Just like you knew, somewhere in the strangely clear space in your empty skull echoing your frantic heartbeat that this was your own fault. You had been stubborn and you had wanted to protect your friends and you had rules you refused to break and it had been the right thing to do but maybe you had been a little eager to prove Steve wrong and to prove yourself.

It worked out the best and worst way possible.

“Look at me, Lo, come on! Don’t do this to me!”

But you weren’t. It already had been done. And you couldn’t take it back.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that you wouldn’t if given the chance. Not really.

And so this mission – the way this fight had turned out – was killing you.

Literally.

You couldn’t breathe.

It hurt too much.

All you saw was the navy blue of Steve’s stealth suit, the silver of the star on his chest, the almost watery cerulean of his eyes shining with something so unusual for him, fear, no, terror. Your chest ached with ever attempt at a breath, numbness flushing through your veins, the memory of his gloved hand cradling your cheek and speaking words that sounded like a white noise machine turned to max and thrown under water haunting you, the ghost of his urgent touch still tickling your face.

He was speaking still. You recognized your name with difficulty, the sweet nickname whispered hoarsely as a slightly mechanical voice reported numbers that made no sense beyond ringing alarm bells and accelerating the movement of the world around you.

Other voices joined, emotions clearer than words, sounding like curses and prayers at once. A flash of Steve’s face white as a sheet of paper in your vision before harsh light replaced it, stinging in your heavy eyes, an unbearable high-pitched beeping causing your head to swim. 

And then there was darkness, wrapping you greedily in its soothing arms, in silence.

The gaping darkness that swallowed Steve as he laid your nearly limp body on the stretcher, on the other hand, was everything but soothing and silent.

And when the heart monitor his own trembling hands had helped to hook you on screamed with the absence of a normal, then sufficient, and then any heartbeat, losing the solid ground under his feet had nothing to do with the jet taking off, and everything to do with the person he loved being taken away.

He held his breath under the icy waters of pure terror until your own wasn’t restored an eternity later.

Steve swore was going to kill you himself later for giving him a scare like that. But for now, ass planted on the floor of the quinjet, head in his still unsteady hands, he let the now present beeps signalling your heartbeat wash over him, letting the few tears that escaped him wash away the images etched forever into his supersoldier brain.

Next chapter // Series masterlist

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Thank you for reading, loves! Thoughts, encouragements and reblogs are always appreciated ✨

I hope your days are full of softness and peace of mind 💕

If you’d like to be notified on updates, follow my other blog @anika-ann-writes or let me know for a tag.

[tinyangrykitten]

Homophobic client and other shit that sucks or doesn’t make sense.

This sinner’s situation is supposed to force Stolas to reflect on his own, which would have worked if the writers didn’t spend so much time portraying this woman as unreasonable, nasty and petty.

Also it’s just confusing…

This woman doesn’t even know for certain that her husband was cheating on her when they were together, giving the husband some plausible deniability. (Because god forbid gay men do anything wrong. )

In contrast, we do know that Stolas was cheating on Stella because he was still married to her at the time.

In season 2, the writers scrambled to justify this, by making Stella an insufferable dumb bitch with no redeeming qualities. So i don’t know what I meant to take away from this show, except women are unreasonable, nasty and petty.

With Stella, you cannot deny the move into evil Disney step mother territory was abrupt and lazy. Someone on the writing team grew fond of Stolas and decided he needs to be given as many excuses as possible.

But why? Why couldn’t his ego mixed with the strained relationship with his wife be enough to push him to have an affair?

What was wrong with Stella just being an emotionally distant wife who cared a little too much about image and status?

The show has the illusion of holding characters accountable while also making as many excuses for them as possible.

I think Blitz, as much as I find him annoying is the only character who’s been called out for his mistreatment of people.

All that being said..I do like that Octavia is fed up with her neglectful dad, giving Stolas some actual repercussions for his behavior.

But…

It’s such dogshit writing. Oh my god.

Instead of showing Stella as being this clever mastermind, manipulating Octavia into hating Stolas, Stella is just unabashedly evil, laughing like a moronic cartoon villain in front of her daughter. As crappy as her dad may be, the show has given Octavia no reason to side with her mom either.

I have a hard time giving a shit about any character in this show bc their actions don’t line up, nothing makes any sense and the emotional moments feel cheap and unearned.

[whatbigotspost]

I may have already rambled about this, but at some point in my career, I took "yes and" from the improv world and applied to to all professional settings and it's honestly one of the greatest tools for me, of all time.

Someone making an unreasonable request for my time/attention but I gotta play nice? ie, "Hey can you pull thing XYZ together for me today?"

"Yes and I'm going to need until next Friday to complete it w/ everything else on my plate. Thanks for your patience!"

Someone super enthusiastic about an idea w/ a kernel of goodness among a sea of shit?

"Yes, that's a great idea, and I think to make it really work, we need to change..."

In fact, if I'm being real REAL, I use "yes and" here all the time, too, to add stuff that I think is VERY important on a give topic but is missing from a post that otherwise has a good take. Like there's no need to be like, "UGH YOU FORGOT" when instead I can say something like, "Yes, this is awesome, AND I want to add..."

People all have very different communication styles in professional settings and I'm someone who is fairly conflict adverse. I will typically err on the side of harmony, trying to cultivate positive rapport and good team rhythm, w/ anyone else who is also acting in good faith. I haaaate overtly negative conflict, arguing, etc. and frankly it triggers me. Of course sometimes I have to steel my spine for hard convos and I would never avoid productive/healthy conflict.

When there's no need for overt conflict but a gentle redirect will help, "yes and" is a hell of a tool.

[eluminium]

WILD LIFE IMPULSE MAKES ME SO WEIRDLY SAD GUYS ISTGGGGGG- MAYBE I'M JUST HIGH OFF OF MY OWN SUPPLY BUT MY GOD.

People treat him like he's somehow massively different from how he used to be, even some of his own allies. They think he's causing problems on purpose, they think he's intentionally being difficult and getting in the way of things. He's changed for the worse. But really, what HAS changed about Impulse in WL compared to earlier seasons? From what I've seen, it's only one thing.

He wants to win. He's made it known that he's aiming for that metaphorical crown. Outside of that one verbalized goal, Impulse has not changed in the slightest. He's still doing the things he's always done.

I mean, think about it. Is there anything Impulse has DONE (not said) that's especially mean, traitorish or troubling? The only thing I can think of is in this newest session (aka session 4) where he and Pearl do some minimal stealing from Joel and Gem, but this thievery is way after their reputations as troublemakers began! Really, the only thing you could argue before this is the cow situation in sessions 1-2, but come on. Accusing Gem and Joel of stealing their cows wasn't the biggest leap in the world, y'know? However, it is kind of unlike Impulse to lash out and accuse someone of something like that. He's usually pretty quiet about situations like this, instead choosing to stew in his frustrations and develop a grudge.

And I think that's what is making people uncomfortable in this season. Impulse speaking out. Impulse demanding things. Impulse making his wills and wants known. And it's something I find so tragic in all of this. People are uncomfortable and untrusting of Impulse because, for once in his god damn lives (many of them), he openly wants good things for himself. And they're not even unreasonable things! Of course, he wants to win, everybody wants to win! But because he never says what he wants normally, it's reminding people (especially allies) that he might have his own goals that could get in the way of their goals.

But, and this is probably the biggest tragedy of all, Impulse doesn't actually prioritize himself that much more than before. Yeah, he's louder than usual, but look at his actions. Anytime he's had to act on anything, he chooses to do more or less whats best for his team, instead of himself. He apologizes to Gem when instructed, he moves together with the rest of the 4Gs to the new base despite voicing how the old base was safer, he tries to clear the air with Ren despite the fact Ren killed him so they can have another ally against Grian (no gurantee the grudge won't come up again though, BUT FOR NOW).

And of course, he does what he always does. Works as hard as he can to make sure his team is as safe and armed as possible. I mean, he builds a creeper farm TWICE, he goes mining for diamonds and says out loud that he wants to get enough so ALL of them could have full diamond armour, he builds a chicken farm for them to have a reliable food source! He's still Impulse, doing what Impulse does best. Pearl even CALLS HIM OUT on this near the end of session 4, saying: "So Impulse, where's the chaos bone? Where is it? You've been too tame today, what's going on?". And Impulse rationalizes by pointing out he lost 3 lives last session and isn't willing to start something he can't finish and how he's "gearing up because this is the calm before the storm!"...and then instantly giving himself another grindy task to do next time in the form of going to the Nether to get resources.

Because he's just doing what he always does, falling back into the same team-pleasing behaviours. Because what he wants most isn't actually winning, despite what he tells himself. He wants someone to want him, to care about him. And the best way he knows how to make people care about him is to show how useful he can be to them. It also doubles as insurence, because if he cannot be wanted, the resources will make sure he will be needed. And if he cannot be needed...he'll let his team use him until there's nothing left of him, until there's no more purposes for him to have. Not because he wants that, in fact he'll usually say the opposite, but because it's the only thing he knows. Work, work, work and keep going because if he just puts in enough honest effort he can get anything he wants, right?

And this loops back to people being overly suspicious of him this season. Because people-pleasing, resource gathering, mild-mannered Impulse is the Impulse people are used too, and the Impulse that is the most useful to them. You can really see this almost subconcious mindset in the gossiping between Scott and Gem in session 4. They talk about how Impulse has a weird tone of voice this season, how he's causing problems, and how they miss the "kind and trustworthy" Impulse from Secret Life. But he's not that different, and he hasn't actually done anything major. Except for expressing his wants more than usual, especially his want to win. But that's already enough of a change in his behaviour to be a problem. Scott and Gem are longing for the Impulse who's an extremely useful and dedicated asset who will grind his ass off for the good of his team without anyone even asking, making sure they got everything they need to survive, but at the same time he doesn't get in the way. He doesn't cause any sort of problems, justified or not, and he doesn't have any wants of his own that could clash with their wants. This "new" Impulse who expresses his goals openly is a possible threat they have to account for, even if he's still mostly the same old reliable Impulse.

And in a depressing way, this makes sense, doesn't it? Imagine, in this death game of betrayal and opprotunism and paranoia, you have a person who gladly gets you everything you needed. Armour, weapons, potions, food, tools, farms, everything! Without even having to be pushed at all! In fact, he's all the more happy to get you something if you ask! And he barely asks for anything in return in comparison. You can more or less pay him in a job well done, and he'll be satisfied. He's easy to mold, easy to incorprate into your goals and wants. Isn't that so nice? So reliable? You have 99 problems but at least this isn't one! Now you have something safe to cling onto in all this chaos.

...Now imagine if that ally suddenly started talking about what HE wants. He starts making demands, standing up for himself, and letting his anger come out. No matter how small these moments are, it's gonna throw you for a loop! Why would he act like this when he never has before? Why would he suddenly start having goals that aren't yours? Why is he confronting you about something you didn't even do instead of grumbling in a corner for a bit? Now he might be a problem, his goals could directly clash with yours. Actually, the fact he's doing this at all means he's up to something. I mean, the motivation has to come from somewhere! Now you hear it in his tone, in his speech patterns, in every moment he doesn't completely roll over for you, and even in the moments he does! He could be a threat now, and you don't like that. You miss the old version of your ally. He's broken now, he needs to be fixed. Keep working with him so he'll revert back to who he used to be, back to when he was quiet. Jokingly call it therapy while you're at it.

IT MAKES SENSE. AND IT SADDENS ME SO MUCH. ESPECIALLY WHEN IMPULSE ISN'T EVEN GAINING ANYTHING FROM THIS BECAUSE HE'S ACTUALLY NOT WORKING FOR HIMSELF AT ALL. HE'S BEEN LABELED A PROBLEM BECAUSE HIS PERSONAL GROWTH, HIM FINALLY TRYING TO PUT HIMSELF FIRST FOR ONCE, IS A THREAT TO HIS ENEMIES...AND HIS ALLIES.

Of course he isn't fully innocent in anything, nobody is, but it's just so sad how all of these factors, factors where no one really is in the wrong, work together to create a situation where Impulse has a reputation looming over his head that he can't even take advantage of. And it's in the season where he wants to win, too...WILD LIFE IMPULSE MY SPECIALIST LITTLE GUY....

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Kumquat (The Surprise, Part 4)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, some references to past sexual trauma (nothing graphic), a Pap smear (aka the WORST medical exam and I will stand by that) Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It's Emily's first non-local case since finding out you were pregnant, and you're both struggling. Especially because it means she'll have to miss you first prenatal appointment–and the first sound of your baby's heartbeat. Maybe there's still a way to share the moment, though...

Week 10: The Kumquat

Your heart beat wildly as you pulled into the parking lot of the OBGYN’s office. You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans and checked your phone. Nothing. You groaned and rubbed your forehead.

You had a hard time with doctors, particularly with gynecologists–a stubborn remnant of past trauma. Emily knew that. Emily knew it was your first appointment and that you’d be scared. She’d wanted to come along; she would have asked all the questions you'd forget.

But duty called. It always did. You’d gotten lucky over the last month since finding out you were pregnant. The BAU hadn’t caught any huge cases and, even the cases they did catch had been local enough that Emily still made it home to you most nights. But, of course, your luck had run out.

You were angry with Emily for leaving, but you knew that was unreasonable. This is what you’d signed up for. Her job was important to her. It was important to you. The fact that she was so passionate about and dedicated to her team and the work they did was one of the things you loved most about her. You were always sad to see her leave and, yes, sometimes frustrated when she had to miss things you’d planned together, but at the end of the day, you knew she loved you, and that was all that mattered.

But this time. This time you were struggling. You tried not to take it out on Emily too much; it wasn’t her fault that your hormones were going wild. You were more everything than usual. More angry at her for leaving, more sad while she was gone, more terrified of going to the doctor.

You glared at your message-less phone for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and texting Emily.

Headed into the OBGYN🤞 I wish you were here. Be safe love 💗

You waited a few minutes with no response, taking a deep breath to swallow your rage. For all you knew, she could be in a bulletproof vest trying to talk down a murderer right now. She loves you, you reminded yourself. If she could be here, she would.

In the office, you were assaulted with the smell of rubbing alcohol and Lysol. You filled out what felt like a full novella of personal and family medical history. When they finally called you back, you felt like a science experiment–poked and prodded and measured. When the doctor pulled out the stirrups, you flinched.

“Is that necessary?” you asked.

She nodded at you. “Sorry. It’s just been long enough since your last Pap smear that I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

You hated it. Hated the whole process, you always did. It was painful and invasive and it made you remember things you’d really rather not remember. Emily usually went with you, to let you squeeze her hand and to whisper that it was okay, you were safe.

You clenched and felt tears prick at your eyes as the cold metal forced its way into you. Hands gripping at the paper covering the seat, you tried your very best to imagine Emily’s voice, her face, the smell of her hair. And you tried not to feel too furious that she wasn’t there. It’s not her fault, you repeated like a mantra.

They took some blood, they asked about running tests to screen for the baby’s health.

“Yes,” you said. “Run all of them.”

“The good news,” the doctor continued, “about these tests is that you also get to find out the gender earlier if that’s something you want.”

You knew you’d need to talk to Emily about it, but part of you didn’t want to know. Emily stubbornly calling the baby he, so sure was she that it was a boy, and you calling the baby she out of pure spite, had become an endearing part of your pregnancy to you. You might just rather be surprised.

“Now for the fun part!” the doctor said, clapping her hands together. “Would you like to try and find the heartbeat?”

Your stomach fluttered with excitement. “Really!? Isn’t it too early?”

“Sometimes we can hear it early with Doppler.”

You nodded vigorously, lifting up your shirt. It was the only time in your life you’d voluntarily had a doctor examine you.

She pressed the device to your lower belly, searching for sound. You waited rapt, barely breathing, so scared were you that you’d miss it.

But then: a whooshing sound and a quick, urgent, pattering heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat. You grinned wide.

“That’s her?” you asked, giddy.

The doctor nodded.

You felt like crying, from pure joy, but also because you wished Emily was here. She would be so sad, so sad, to have missed this. But maybe you could bring the heartbeat to her.

You took out your phone. “Can I record this?” you asked. “I want to send it to my wife.”

“Of course,” the doctor said.

You pressed the record button on your Voice Memos, and recorded a good thirty seconds of the baby’s heartbeat, knowing that Emily would listen to it again and again and again.

When you finally left the office, proud of yourself, you hopped in the car and checked your phone. Still nothing. You sent off another text to Emily.

Must be a hard day. ❤️Here’s something to cheer you up! 👶🏻🫀I miss you. Call when you can.

Later that night, as you lay in bed reading, your phone started buzzing. You smiled wide. Emily.

“Good evening, Agent Prentiss,” you joked.

“The heartbeat!” she squealed, so loud you had to hold the phone away from your ear.

You grinned and gushed. “Isn’t it the most beautiful heartbeat you’ve ever heard!?”

“Yes! After yours, of course.���

“Wow, you’re laying it on thick.”

“I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Emily sounded genuinely sad. “Honey, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“It’s okay,” you said, most of your anger dissipating the moment the words I’m sorry left her mouth.

“It’s not okay. I should’ve been there. You hate going to the doctor, and it’s our baby. It’ll get easier after we tell my team. Then I can take a step back.”

“It’s really okay, Em.”

She sighed, and you could tell there was nothing you could say that would alleviate her guilt. She’d carry it with her until she was home again, until she could scoop you up and hold you and take care of you the way she wanted to.

“Was everything okay? With you and Little Kumquat?”

“Kumquat looks good. Healthy as a horse. I–” You thought about the Pap smear, the taste of metal seeping into your mouth. “I’m okay, too.”

“You’re lying.” Emily’s voice shifted, now deep and concerned. “Y/N, what happened?”

“I’m not lying!” Sometimes you really hated being married to a profiler.

Emily grew more panicked. “Is something wrong? Honey, do I need to come home?”

“No! Em, it’s just…” You sighed, picking at your fingernails. “They had to do a Pap smear.”

The line was quiet for a moment before Emily spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shaky, afraid if you tried to say more you might start crying.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I know how hard those are for you.”

You stayed quiet, willing yourself not to cry. Emily felt guilty enough; you crying would make it ten times worse.

“Listen, I’m at a hotel tonight, okay? I’ll have my phone by me all night. I know sometimes you get nightmares after, so just call me if you wake up, okay?”

“Emily, you don’t have to do that,” you said softly. “You need sleep.”

“I won’t sleep one wink if I’m worried about you all night, so promise me you’ll call.”

“Okay. I promise.”

“Thank you. Ugh, Rossi’s waving me over. I gotta go, but I love you so much, and I miss you every second, and I can’t wait to get home to you.” 

“I love you, too.”

You slept with your phone on the pillow next to you that night, and it wasn’t the same as having Emily there, especially when you woke up gasping in a cold sweat. But her voice lulling you back to sleep was pretty close, and you were so, so glad to have her–even from far away.

[bengiyo]

Ben’s Big BL Blurb 2: Fall is Finally Here

I am simply too busy with worth, family, other hobbies, and life to write about every show in real time anymore. I’m sorry to all the Stray Thoughts readers who’ve reached out about whether I would pick that back up, and I simply just do not have the time to do them anymore. Instead, I’ll try to do one of these as often as I can to catch up on things.

First, let’s go over some shows I finished recently that I don’t think I wrote much about.

First Note of Love

I was so happy to see Michael back on screen, and I was glad to see that he’s still able to get great chemistry with his co-star. Unfortunately, I don’t think this show was very coherent, so I didn’t get a lot out of it emotionally. It was a pretty inoffensive watch overall, and thus an easy show to put on without having to work through too much. I liked the work between everyone, and Mei Lei was such a fun character. Probably won’t return to this one, though. 

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

This is probably the show of the year for me. There’s so much I loved about this show. I loved that the characters had sex, but were neither rewarded nor punished for it; their sex didn’t solve any problems. I also really love how this show explored how childhood trauma expresses in two different kinds of boys, and I love that we got to see a bully reckon with his actions and get closure. I love that this show ended with them being kinda poor, but happy together. I love how messed up they both were about everything. I loved that Juyeong wasn’t stupid, and could read what was going on.

I clearly need to write a separate post to unpack everything I felt in this show.

Let’s move on to what I’m watching currently, in no particular order…starting with the lesbians, and then the worst BLs.

Apple My Love

Genuinely having fun with this GL. I like how quickly most of the drama plays out. It’s giving me quite a bit of secondhand embarrassment, but I like the characterizations in this show. This new production house brought us Knock Knock, Boys! and Monster Next Door this year. We need to keep an eyes on them. 

Haunted Hearts

I’m so fascinated by Oxin Films teaming up with Regal Entertainment. The leads are very attractive, but the cinematography is really boring. I’m trying to stay invested, but it’s kind of a sleepy watch. Also amused that they started airing a ghost romance right after Halloween ended. I’ve kind of moved on emotionally from the season.

My Damn Business

This show could be good, but it’s not. I struggled with episode 5 because our lead looked more relaxed and happier with his senior than the guy he’s getting into a romance with. There’s something missing here in this one, but I can’t exactly put my finger on it. I think it’s primarily a side effect of the short run time, but I think the boss’s interest isn’t landing properly for the employee to respond to. 

Eccentric Romance

This show could be good, but it’s not. Still, I am obsessed with a murder mystery being the primary source of confusion between our leads. I was willing to forgive this show a lot of its rough edges, but it failed to handle the turn from friendship to sexual/romance really well. I feel like our guys just started dating and having sex, and I’m a bit frustrated that they didn’t talk about it really at all, particularly since this show features two different languages spoken on screen. Genuinely looking forward to seeing how this one finishes. 

See Your Love

I’m not sure this show is exactly working that well, but everyone is very pretty and I’m having a decent time watching it. I like the way Shao Peng stands up for himself, and I like that nothing that’s happened has been totally unbelievable or unreasonable (at least with the mains). I’ll be curious how the hard of hearing and deaf viewers respond to this one once it’s complete. 

Love is Like a Poison

This show is actually so funny. I love that Shiba is in his own lawyer genre separate from everyone else, and I really like how the two of these guys have become a team. I’m curious how they manage to resolve the scamming next week, but this has been the most unexpected dynamic of the year. 

Love in the Air: Koi no Yukon

MAME won this year, y’all. We all have complicated feelings about her, but she’s secured a loving adaptation from a Japanese team that’s put solid effort into bringing her characters to life. Every character feels correct compared to their Thai counterpart we saw on screen, and that’s a strong sign that the writing behind MAME’s work is strong, even if we all have issues with the way she tackles certain themes. I’m really impressed with this adaptation, and really like this version of Rain.I also feel like this show is doing a better job blending the forthcoming couple focus shift.

Our Youth

We just got this show, but damn does it feel sharp! I’m always going to be a sucker for a cinephile character, and I’m so compelled by the way Minase is drawn to Hirukawa. The scene in episode 2 where Minase has to leave Hirukawa’s house might be one of the most impressive sequences we’ve had in a while, requiring a great deal of choreography and effort from the actors and the camera crew to pull off, and I’m excited to see how these characters split and then come back together. 

Smells Like Green Spirit

Let me just say that I need another Abe Alan appearance when he isn’t playing a character doing horrible things to his students. I’ve enjoyed meditating on the 90s with this show and what that era felt like. I’ve liked how the show has tried to focus on how different parents (especially the moms) have responded to their kids coming to terms with themselves. I’ve also really enjoyed the friendship that’s grown between Mishima and Kirino. I’m struggling with Yumeno a lot, because I’m really not a friend of bully romances. Still, I feel like this is one of those shows I’ll remember for a long time because of its focus on the 90s. 

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days

I think @lurkingshan covered reactions to episode 5 and episode 6 better than I could, and I loved @twig-tea giving context for the film history moment in episode 6. I remember screaming into the chat for friends to show up for this when I got to that moment. This show has two great pairs of dynamics going on that mirror well. It’s got such a strong handle on its characters’ motivations and how they would respond to the actions from each other. It’s probably the tightest thing I’m watching now, backed by extremely dialed-in performances. I will be thinking about Qi Lu organizing his potential first kiss with Qin Xiao, and how unapologetic he’s been about the entire affair. He’s being selfish here, but I kinda like it. I’m so thankful that we are somehow still getting this show, because goddamn do the Chinese actors deliver on chemistry sometimes.

Interview With the Vampire Season 2

I finished this with a friend last week, and holy fuck is this show still so, so good. We watch a lot of gay romance because of BL, and I am having so much fun watching the show about gay divorce. I loved the time we spent in Paris, Daniel’s shifting role in the narrative, and the new insights we got into Lestat this season. I will miss Claudia so much, and I have to give a standing ovation to Delainey Hayles stepping into the role of Claudia and doing the damn thing this season. I just love seeing my little fucked up gay people torment each other on screen.

I'm still thinking about Louis and Lestat reuniting in a hurricane after Claudia derided this as yet another chapter in their stormy romance.

Dropped Shows

Unfortunately, everyone can’t win. Some of these shows are just too long for me to keep up with them, and oftentimes I get bored. I’ve currently dropped:

Lovesick 2024 - I may go back. We’ll see

Jack & Joker - It’s just too long, and they just killed Jennie and a kid. I’m good.

Fourever You - I’m bored with Earth always playing this character type.

Pluto - Namtam and Film are beautiful, but this looks too messy right now.

Every You, Every Me - Wasn’t intrigued after episode 1, but the commentary may draw me back.

Kidnap - Ohm is not enough to keep me invested in this show. 

Uncle Unknown - How did they make a 6 minute show feel slow?

I’m genuinely not trying to be harsh to Thai shows out here, but I just do not have the time to keep up with all of them when they’re this long and dragging.

Thanks for stopping by, and let me know if there’s something I missed that I should check out.

[himluv]

Something You Should Know

Here's the next chapter in my Rookanis fic, Say My Name (Say it Twice), in which Lucanis and Rook have a heart-to-heart after experiencing one of Solas's memories in the Crossroads.

Drawing a line between himself and Rook had been easy. Unpleasant, but easy. 

Feel nothing.

Maintaining that line was much, much harder, especially when she insisted on bringing him on every outing. Not that it was unreasonable to do so – he and Rook had found their own rhythm in combat that made them a formidable team. It also frequently left him breathless. 

Lucanis had partnered with other Crows over the years – mostly Illario and Viago – but they all had distinct, individual styles. Illario was the seducer, charming his way close to the mark so they never saw his blade coming. Viago preferred his poisons, carefully studying his targets so he could choose the right concoction for the job. His targets were often dead before they even knew there was a contract on their life. 

Lucanis was more physical. He had his blades – at least seven for any job – and his stealth. But, by the time he reached his mark, they knew death had come for them. He ensured it. And if he could guarantee the kill was quick and bloodless, he would. Snapping a neck was much more efficient than slicing a throat. 

Rook wasn’t an assassin, and her lack of training showed in her form. Her dagger work lacked finesse, but she made up for it with a startling relentlessness. She relied heavily on her spells and orb, her lightning overwhelming enemies to leave them vulnerable to his blades. And mierda, she was fast, running in close to finish off dazed opponents and blinking away in a crackle of electricity. 

That said, they needed to work on her parrying.

“Snipers!” He shouted as an undead mage raised its staff. A ball of light careened at Rook, who raised her blade too late. The missile hit her square in the chest, launching her backwards.

“Rook’s hit!” Lucanis leapt into the air and Spite’s wings carried him to dive at the undead mage. But, before he could finish it off, Rook was there, slashing her dagger in a wide arc to send the undead flying. 

“I think that’s all of them,” Bellara said. 

Rook nodded, panting with hands on her hips. 

“Everyone still alive?” He asked. 

Rook chuckled and winced. She rubbed at her chest before knocking back a potion.

Rook. Hurt?

She met his gaze and shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said. 

He frowned. “I didn’t say you weren’t.”

She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have to.”

Lucanis didn’t know what she meant by that. Was his concern that obvious? Did Bellara notice it too? Or was Rook just being her usual, observant self?

“That was a hard hit, Rook,” Bellara said. “Maybe we should–”

“I’m fine, you guys.” She started off further down the trail, toward another shimmering gate. “Let’s see what the Dread Wolf’s hiding in this memory.”

Lucanis and Bellara shared a worried glance, then set off after her. 

Inside the memory, they saw not only Solas, but his general, too. And immediately Rook’s body language changed. She was stiff, spine rigid and shoulders high. Tense. Her eyes never left the general and the more Lucanis looked between them, the more he saw the resemblance.

Rook was paler, her hair lighter, but the slant of their noses and the planes of their cheeks were very similar. Lucanis knew next to nothing about elven vallaslin, but he’d wager good coin that the general’s face bore Mythal’s mark. 

But the most obvious, most convincing detail was the man’s violet eyes. The exact same shade that bordered Rook’s grey-blue irises. 

The vision of Solas and the man who might be her father dissolved and Rook wordlessly turned to continue their mission. Lucanis reached for her, but did not put his hand on her arm. 

“Rook?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine, Lucanis.”

Doesn’t SOUND fine, Spite said. 

The demon was right. Rook sounded upset, shaken. Like she needed to be anywhere but there. But once they were inside a memory, the only way out was through.

“Let’s just get through this,” she said. 

He watched her for a moment, but she refused to meet his gaze. Finally, he nodded. “All right.”

She sighed, then set off at a jog for their next task in the Dread Wolf’s memory. He followed, but gave Rook plenty of space. Bellara walked beside him. 

“Is everything okay?” She asked, voice low. “With Rook, I mean.”

No! Spite said, then took a deep breath, scenting the air. Rook is scared! And angryyyyy.

Lucanis kept his eyes on Rook. “She’s fine,” he said. 

“But–”

“Bellara.” Lucanis gave her a sharp look. 

She frowned at him. “She’s my friend, too.”

Friend? Spite hissed. NO. Rook is more!

Lucanis sighed. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Bellara scowled at him. “You know something, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “I know a lot of things.”

“Lucanis.”

He stopped and turned to face the elf. “Right now, Rook needs us to focus,” he said. “You can ask her about it afterward.”

She gave him a stubborn look that promised she would. “Fine,” she said. “But we’re also going to talk about this.”

Lucanis grunted his assent. If questioning him would get Bellara to give Rook some space, that was fine with him. 

They jogged to catch up with Rook, just as another wave of Elgar’nan’s recruits materialized. The memories were easy to dispatch, almost surprisingly so. He wondered if the Dread Wolf’s spirits had really wreaked such havoc, or if that was merely how Solas remembered it. 

Chaos. Disruption. Over and over and over and over. Spite growled. Used them.

Lucanis did not like the sound of that. But, if Rook had any suspicions about the Dread Wolf’s motives, she kept them to herself. 

She was a flurry of blade and lightning, cutting through the memories with such focus that Lucanis knew something was wrong. Rook was usually chatty in combat, commenting to her companions as she bounded around the battlefield. But, since seeing Fen’Harel’s general, Rook had thrown herself into each fight as if they weren’t there. As if she was all alone.

Angry, Spite said. No talk. Doesn’t want. To talk. He growled. Wants. To. Stab!

Well, Lucanis could definitely relate to that. If that’s where Rook was at, he would meet her there. He kept his silence, only calling out when Rook or Bellara were in harm’s way, and made sure to cover Rook even more than he usually did.

Rook. Needs. Help?

He would never describe Rook’s fighting style as efficient, but in her rage she was much more likely to wear down quickly. If she should falter, Lucanis would be there to take up the slack. 

And so they fought through wave after wave, across the bridge and to Elgar’nan’s front door. Only then did Solas’s plan become clear – they'd been the distraction. 

All around them, the memory bled away to the present, color and sound returning to their usual vibrancy. Beside him, Rook trembled, her blade held tight in her fist. 

“He used them,” she said, her voice low and shaking. “He sent those spirits to their deaths.”

“He thought the cost was worth it,” Lucanis said.

She spun on him, fury on her face. “That’s bullshit!”

Lucanis didn’t flinch as she shouted. Didn’t raise his hands or try to soothe her. She’d vibrated with rage through that entire memory – if this was how she needed to release it, Lucanis would gladly take the brunt of her fury.

“You can’t just use people like that,” she said. “I won’t–” she stopped as her voice broke. 

Bellara stepped up to stand on Lucanis’s other side. “Rook?” She said, her voice soft with concern. “What’s going on?”

Rook covered her face with both hands and took several deep, steadying breaths. Then she shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “Just… something Solas said makes a lot of sense now.” Rook opened her eyes, and the pain and confusion there made his heart clench.

“I’m sorry, Lucanis,” she said. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“Think nothing of it,” he said. He tried to inject some warmth into his voice, to convince her he was fine, but his concern for her made it fall flat.

“Rook…” Bellara said. 

She held up a hand to her friend. “I’m fine, Bellara. Really.”

Lying, Spite hissed. 

Lucanis thought that was pretty apparent to everyone present. “Let’s get back to the Lighthouse,” he said. 

Rook stooped to pick up the wolf statuette they’d recovered. “Great idea,” she said and headed back toward their eluvian. “Can’t wait to see what other terrible things he’s keeping from us.”

He’d expected to have to wait for Rook to seek him out after the others had gone to sleep. He’d even planned to call on her in her quarters if she avoided him for too long. She would need to talk about all that had happened today, whether she liked it or not. If it’d been his emotional outburst, he would do almost anything to pretend it never happened, so he was surprised when Rook joined him in the kitchen after dinner. 

She gave him a hesitant smile. “Want some help?”

Bellara had cooked, which meant Lucanis would clean up. “If you like,” he said. “There’s not much.”

She cast a glance around the kitchen, noting several pans, two cutting boards, and at least three different knives in need of washing, not including their plates and silverware still on the table. 

“Seems like a lot to me,” she said. 

He shrugged. “It keeps me busy.”

“You mean, it keeps you awake.”

Lucanis smirked at her. “That, too.”

“In that case,” she said, moving to stack their plates. “Will you make some fresh coffee?”

He chuckled at that. “I was going to do that anyway.”

“Of course you were.”

The fondness in her voice hit him like a shot of good Antivan brandy. He felt wam down to his toes. 

Flirting? Spite asked. 

At this point, Lucanis wasn’t sure the distinction mattered. After all they’d been through, he and Rook had reached a level of understanding that he could only think of as family. Whether her words were intended romantically or not, he found comfort in them all the same. 

There was quiet in the dining hall as Lucanis brewed coffee and Rook prepped the basin for washing. It was another of the Lighthouse’s oddities. Once they’d started cooking regularly, a basin with a fire rune engraved in the bottom appeared in the corner of the kitchen. It wasn’t as large or ornate as the one in Villa Dellamorte’s kitchen, but it did the job.

He poured the coffee, one for each of them in their matching cups, then joined her at the basin. “Here,” he said, handing her the cup. 

She took a sip and hummed. “I don’t understand how it’s so much better when you make it!”

Lucanis looked down at his coffee to hide his blush. “It just takes patience,” he said. “And practice.”

She snorted. “Neither of which I’m particularly good at.”

Lucanis laughed. “No,” he said. “You’re more of a wing-it type.”

She smiled at that. “It’s gotten us this far!”

“It has,” he ceded. He took another sip of his coffee, then set the cup on the shelf above the basin. “Come,” he said. “I’ll wash, you dry.”

She didn’t argue and they set to the task with surprising ease. Only a handful of dishes in, Rook began to hum. Lucanis didn’t stop washing, didn’t freeze or turn to look at for fear she might stop. So, he kept his head down, his hands busy, and just listened.

It only took a few notes to recognize one of the songs that the minstrels often played in Café Pietra. Lucanis was no musician, but he thought she sounded good. Her tone was full and clear, and he wondered if it would carry over into her voice. 

Spite perched on the counter nearest Rook, each dry plate phasing through him as she set them down. 

Rook sings? The demon asked. 

Lucanis said nothing. He would not interrupt this moment for anything. He was standing nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with Rook while they cleaned up after dinner. There was fresh coffee and she was humming a song from one of his favorite places back home. 

It was the most peaceful moment of Lucanis’s life.

“Lucanis?” She asked as he handed her another plate. 

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t asked about what happened today.”

He shrugged. “I knew you’d talk when you were ready.”

“Oh,” she said. She dried the plate with her towel, then stacked it with the others. 

Spite inhaled as she momentarily faced him. Angry, he hissed. And sad.

“It was him,” she said. 

“You’re sure?”

“You saw him.” She shook her head. “A mage with Mythal’s vallaslin.”

Lucanis nodded, but kept his eyes on the water as he set to scrubbing one of the pans. “There was a resemblance.”

She spun to face him. “You think?” In that moment, her face shone with so much hope that Lucanis thought his heart might burst. 

“Yes,” he said. He stopped scrubbing and took the towel from her to dry his hands. He willed them to be steady as he continued. “Your cheekbones and noses are the same.”

She watched him with wide shimmering eyes as he raised one hand over her face, his index finger tracing a line across her cheeks and then down her nose. He did not touch her, but the electricity between her skin and his was almost as good as if he had. 

“But more than anything,” he continued, “it was the eyes that gave it away.” He looked her in the eye and let all the weeks of confusion and want, of fear and hope, well up inside him. “You inherited some of his color, I think.” His voice was low, barely more than a whisper. 

Rook’s gaze darted around his face, shimmering and hopeful, her pupils blown wide. Then her gaze dropped down to his mouth and she licked her lips. 

The sight jolted Lucanis, his body reacting so viscerally he blinked with shock. 

Waaaaaaant. 

What was he thinking? Hadn’t he just resolved to draw a line between them? To keep things professional? She needed an assassin, perhaps a friend. Not… whatever this was. 

He turned back to the dishes, cursing himself for being so weak once again. 

“Lucanis?” Her voice was small, as if she were afraid she might upset him. 

“You were right,” he said. “About the notes and being Fen’Harel’s general.”

There was silence for a moment, stillness too as Rook watched him. Then she sighed and got back to drying the pan he handed her. 

“Yeah,” she said, eventually. “But I still don’t know what happened to him.”

He frowned. “If he’s in Solas’s memories, in his regrets…” he winced. 

Rook sighed again. “Then probably nothing good.”

“I’m sorry, Rook,” he said. 

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, Lucanis.”

He frowned at her. “For what?”

“For today. How I reacted.” She looked very pointedly at the knife she was drying. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Lucanis snorted. “I’ve dealt with worse,” he said. 

“I know,” she said. Her voice was so fragile it stopped him mid-scrub. She waited for him to look at her before she continued speaking. “I know,” she repeated. “And I never want to add to your pain.”

The conviction in her voice rooted him in place. He could not look away from her, could not move as she reached out and put her hand on his arm. Mierda, she was so warm! He wanted her to envelop him in that warmth, to hold him close and promise him nothing but soft, sweet things. 

But what he wanted for himself and what he wanted for her were two very different things. She deserved more than what he could give. So, he took a step back and returned to washing the last of the dishes. 

“Thank you, Rook,” he said. “I can finish the rest.”

NO! Spite howled. No! Hurt Rook? Hurt. US!

For a long moment, she didn’t move, didn’t speak. Then she sighed and started putting away the dishes. They worked in not-quite-easy silence until the kitchen was pristine. Until both their cups were empty, washed, and hanging from their rack above the percolator. 

Lucanis watched Rook hang her damp towel over the edge of the now-empty wash basin. He leaned against the stove, arms and ankles crossed, and waited for whatever she was about to say. He expected her to be angry – how many mixed signals could he send before she just gave up? – but when she spoke her voice was calm and sure. 

“There’s something you should know about me, Lucanis.”

Something in her tone made his pulse race, that increasingly familiar, delicious heat rolling through him. “And what’s that, Rook?”

She turned to face him and pinned him with the intensity of her gaze. “I don’t do anything halfway.”

Not that long ago, Lucanis might have thought she was simply talking about the dishes, but he’d learned a lot about Rook in the last couple of months. Enough to know she wasn’t talking about the household chores. 

He held her gaze, awash in her determination and her certainty. It buoyed him to know someone as breathtaking as her could look at him like that. “Well, then,” he said. “We have that in common.” 

It was a stupid thing to say. Bold and confident when he felt neither. It sounded like something from one of his romance novels – completely ridiculous. 

But it was true.

He stood up and nodded once at her. “Goodnight, Rook.”

She watched him, her face flushed and brow furrowed. “Goodnight, Lucanis.”

Then he turned his back to her and returned to the safety of the pantry. It was going to be a long, torturous night of replaying the evening over and over again in his mind. A long, wonderfully torturous night. 

[thir10th]

52 pick up - Emily Prentiss x Fem!reader

Summary: So basically this is a Emily x reader one shot based on ep 4x9 because I really wanted to read one but I could not find ANYTHING so I guess I had to write it myself *sighs*

TW: spoilers for 4x09, Fem!reader, (very poorly written) smut, mutual masturbation, fingering (this might be so bad I’m sorry in advance if it is) I think that’s it but let me know if I miss anything

A/n: very new fanfic writer so please be gentle and any feedback is appreciated 🙏 English is not my first language so sorry for the possible mistakes

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

“we need to study his style up close and personal. It’s gonna take someone that he’s already attracted to” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive tone, soon enough, Morgan and Hotch are also looking at Emily, and you are too, only to realize what they’re trying to say

“oh… oh this is really gonna suck” Emily complains when she realizes she’s the one who will have to approach Viper.

You really didn’t like this idea. You weren’t obviously happy to let your girlfriend get in the line just to be approached by that same asshole who had already been extremely inappropriate to her, objectifying her, suggesting he could “make her do whatever he wanted”. Only if he knew if there was anybody in the world capable of making Emily Prentiss do anything was you.

All of that was true, but why was also true, and you wouldn’t admit, was how unreasonably jealous that thought made you.

You knew for sure Emily would never cheat on you, or do anything to deliberately hurt you in any way, and there was also the fact that she was a lesbian, so there is no way she would be attracted to that guy in any way, however it did make you feel jealous, just the idea of your beautiful, sexy girlfriend walking into that bar, as a literal decoy, her, all dressed up as any other night she would do, to go out with you and the rest for a BAU party night, but instead getting there by herself just with the aim to be eye-fucked by that disgusting misogynist of a man.

“ok but you’re not going by yourself, I’m going with you. It could be more effective is we approach him as a couple, isn’t that what our unsub has been doing anyway?”

You wait for your boss’ response, he frowns as he considers the idea

“You’re right, it could be more effective that way. Go get ready” He finally admits, and you go get your go bag

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

You enter the room while Emily is already changing in, opening the door slightly just to take a peek so you can surprise her. She is already unbuttoning her work shirt.

“would you like me to finish that for you?”

You ask her, a she startles

“jeez y/n! you scared me, I didn’t know you were there!”

“Sorry, honey” you say as you enter the room and close it behind you

“are you excited to go clubbing or are you mad that I offered to go with you? I just really hated the idea of you approaching that asshole by yourself” you walk up to her, surrounding her waist with your arms, resting your hands on her sides, softly caressing the skin there

“yes…well about that” she surrounds your neck with her arms, twirling little strands of your hair with her fingers there

“you actually got mad?”

“no, no it’s not that… Hotch just came in and we talked about Jordan, and I kind of suggested she came with me”

“so basically I’m not going?”

“it’s just…she’s really trying hard to be a part of the team, and I can’t help it”

“you see yourself in her? Ems…” you knew how good she meant but you couldn’t help to think that she was being too nice to her, plus you weren’t so sure you liked Jordan that much. Maybe it was because you missed JJ, or maybe you just didn’t really like the way she looked at her sometimes.

“I just don’t want her to feel left alone now”

“I know, baby and I love you for that, but you were not like her, you did your best ever since the first day, you never needed to prove yourself by lying or anything like that

“Yes, but I did feel very left out at times, and I will never forget how comforted it made me feel that you included me and asked me for help at times”

“yes, but that was because I was trying to get in your pants” she laughs and closes her eyes slightly as in “I can’t believe you’re saying that” way.

It’s sometimes surprising how shy Emily can get specially considering her confidence in the bedroom, and also how she would slip some suggestive comments about your relationship in front of the team from time to time mostly to surprise them, but you loved both sides of her, and you though her shyness was adorable, so you laugh with her.

“I know it’s important for you, and it’s just so cute how you want to help her, so I’ll forget about it and just stick with Morgan and Reid, but if he touches you, remember I’m armed.”

She smiles, softly, looking at your lips, and she kisses you softly, and you gently kiss her back.

“I promise I’ll compensate you”

“I will hold you on for that one”

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

It can feel strange to be dressed in your casual work clothes in the middle of a bar but there you are, handing in flyers with Morgan and Reid, you can’t help but to look among all the faces trying to find Emily, completely aware of how bad this could affect her cover, but you can’t help it.

She should be here already, what’s taking her so long?

Someone is suddenly standing behind you, you turn hopeful to see Emily but disappointed to see it’s just Morgan

“is pretty girl looking for her girlfriend?” he teases you

“shouldn't they be here already?” You ask him, ignoring the teasing

“relax beautiful, or you’re gonna blow up their cover, and even Pretty boy here has handed in more flyers than you, don’t get so distracted” he advices you, but you don’t really listen, you just keep walking around until you catch a glimpse of someone standing on a table, you can instantly recognize Emily, wearing a beautiful black dress that hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her breasts and making her look more beautiful if that was even possible already.

Almost immediately you can see Viper approaching her, he looks so confident in his “alpha male” appearance but you’re certain it will take Emily mere seconds to destroy him.

Then Jordan arrives, she has also dressed up for the occasion but she doesn’t look nearly as hot as your girlfriend. They both engage in a conversation with Viper, visibly suggestive. At the beginning you can tell his confident, he has done this a million times, but as time passes, and the conversation goes on, every time one of her talks he also gets more and more insecure.

You observe how Emily teases him, at one point she gets so close to his mouth you actually believe he’s going to kiss her but she just laughs it off and his body language changes again.

Looking at your beautiful girlfriend interacting in this way from afar was making you feel more and more aroused it even embarrassed you that it was turning you on, but you couldn’t help it. I mean, how could you when she just looked like that? You couldn’t even blame yourself every time you looked at her mouth and how her lipstick suited her perfectly.

Everything happens quicker than you thought, first thing you notice is how their face expressions change, and suddenly they’re walking away, leaving Viper there, and picking up the phone probably to call Hotch. You look for Morgan and Reid and tell them it’s time to leave.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

Back at the precinct you catch Emily when she’s entering the changing room again, you check that Jordan isn’t inside too, and get in with her.

“you look… wow” it’s the first thing you say to her. She’s looking straight at you, with a smile on her face, hinting she probably has something in mind for you

“you liked it?”

“Em, you look so beautiful”

“I could see you there in the back you know?” she grabs you by the waist, gently pushing your back against the lockers, you surround her with your arms for support, she keeps talking seductively, with her face so close you yours that your lips could crush if you just moved a bit closer. Instead you both just remain there, as Emily talks, just millimeters away from kissing

“really?” you ask, it’s a stupid question but you’re too surprised to say something coherent right now.

“really, yeah, you were practically drooling, was I doing that to you baby? “

“yes, god Emily yes”

She closes the space between us, her lips crashing against yours, practically devouring you, softly, full of lust.

Emily’s kisses were like that, no matter how much they lasted she always left you wanting more.

Her hands pull your waist to hers, grabbing your flesh desperately, anywhere she could find it. You run your finger through her soft black curls. Her tongue finds yours in a matter of seconds and suddenly the kiss turns into something bigger, her hands travel down to find your ass giving it a gentle squeeze because you know how much I love that she grabs your ass and how much it turns you on

You hear a knock on the door interrupting the scene, and you fly away from each other in less than a second

“Come in!” Emily just says a bit too loud. Her cheeks are red, and when Jordan enters she notices

“sorry, am I interrupting something?” she says, but it’s not a real apology

“no, sorry I was already leaving” you reply maybe a little too fast, and with one last look to Emily, you leave.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

After a case is closed you always feel like an eternity has passed. You are way so tired you can barely stand anymore, but at least you’re glad you got there in time to save the last woman the unsub had taken before something horrible happened to her.

You enter your hotel room, the one you shared with Emily. You started sharing rooms during cases after you made your relationship public, Hotch thought it was for the better since you wouldn’t be sneaking out of your rooms every night, and technically you were saving money.

“my feet are killing me, maybe those heels weren’t such a great idea as I thought” she sits on the bed, and you help her take her shoes off

“if I remember correctly, you had promised something to me” she grabs you by the waist, getting you closer to her, looking up from where she’s sitting

She simply smiles, looking up at you

“you know me. Im a woman of my word” she starts unzipping your pants, pulling them off your legs, she leaves a little kiss right on top of your underwear, she grabs them and pulls them down just like she did with your pants.

You start unbuttoning your shirt, and she does the same thing, but before she can finish you interrupt her

“you’ve undressed many times today already, let me be the one who takes you clothes off now” you move to sit next to her and you take her shirt off, then to unzipping her pants. It doesn’t take muck more for Emily to take the lead. She pushes you down so your back is laying flat on the bed, just to finish unbuttoning your shirt and opening it to discover you’re not wearing a bra underneath

“look at what we have here!” she teases you

“you look beautiful like this baby, did you enjoy the little act on the bar today? Because I think it turned you on, you couldn’t take your eyes off of me could you?” she says positioning herself on top of you, straddling you, lowering her face to kiss your cheek, then your neck, leaving soft and wet kisses all over your jaw.

“Yes, Em god yes” you say completely out of breath

“was my baby jealous?” she asks, alternating kisses between words

“I was” you admit, completely at her mercy, and very turned on by how her fingers trace all around your stomach, your chest, how she whispers in your ear and kisses everywhere she can reach.

“you’re mine, baby” she whispers in your ear, and moves to bite of on your earlobe

“I’m yours” you answer, and you can feel her smile forming on her lips against the tender skin right behind your jaw where she was kissing you

She started her trip down your body, leaving wet kisses all along your skin, stopping suddenly when she reached the hemline of your underwear. She put her hair between her ears and instead of going on to where you wanted her, she began kissing her way up your thighs, nipping the sensitive skin there which you were sure will leave small purple marks tomorrow that you were too ashamed to admit you loved carrying with your for the whom day, watching them on your own reflection on the mirror, tracing with your fingers the same path her lips had made hours ago.

She reached closer to your centre, lingering right where your thighs ended and met the elastic on your underwear. This had you bucking up your waist to her face, which caused a giggle from her

“someone’s eager”

“Em you’ve teased me enough already, just please” you say out of breath, begging her to get where you wanted her the most

“I can’t say no to you” she kisses you right in the middle of your underwear, the sudden contact making you moan in pleasure

“Fuck. Em” your hands practically flew to wrap your fingers between her hair.

She uses her own mouth to lower your underwear with her teeth, and taking them all the way off using her right hand, the other one never leaving its place. Other times Emily would simply move your underwear enough to get exactly what she wanted, but tonight she needed you naked, nothing more than you on her head.

Before you could complain on her slow pace, her lips crashed against yours, she moaned in your mouth and you did the same, simultaneously she cupped you, a slight cry in pleasure leaving your lips

“Emily please, just ple-“ Emily cut you off by burying two fingers inside you, the sudden pleasure causing a long, loud moan escape your lips.

You were both always so vocal about your time together even when staying at hotels, so you could count that Morgan would be teasing you about it tomorrow since he was the one sharing a wall with you. But you could not be bothered.

“Am I hurting you?” She asked with genuine concern on her eyes.

“No, it’s perfect just don’t stop” she smiled against your lips. You decided to take advantage of the situation, and moved the one hand that wasn’t wrapped on her hair, to meet her centre, and gently run your finger through her.

“Fuck. Don’t stop” she breathed before kissing you again.

She continued to move her fingers inside of you and you met each thrust but you almost fell apart when she pressed her thumb against your clit and rubbed

One last hard press against it had you coming undone, Emily let you ride your orgasm, although it doesn’t take her long to reach her high as well and she comes apart collapsing on top of you.

The heavy breaths filled the silent room, you caressed her hair, and she gave you a last peck on the lips before getting off of you, moving so you could face each other, she wraps her arm around your waist and brings you as close to her as possible.

“I couldn’t stand the way she was looking at you today” you admit

“How she looked at me? Don’t you mean he?” She asks

“I mean both of them, Viper and Jordan”

“Oh c’mon, you’re not being serious” she laughs it off

“I’m serious, I really think she’s into you”

“You’re not even jealous anymore, you are being completely unreasonable now”

“Ok, whatever you say, just remember, my gay radar never fails” you tell her to make her laugh, but you’re not totally joking

“Just so you know, Viper was right. I did have someone in my mind”

“Oh? And who might that be?” You say teasingly

“Try and guess” she says, going for another kiss that you reciprocate with a big smile on your lips.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*: