#sometimes i defend women’s wrongs too i keep it equal

[musicalmoritz]

I can’t take Teru haters seriously anymore, wdym your biggest opp is a dude who hasn’t even completed his GPA yet

[folkloreguk]

an angel for a demon (3)

A/N: Here's the last part of this small series! You don't necessarily need to read all of them to understand this one, but it does probably make more sense if you do. As always, feedback is deeply appreciated! Have a good day x

genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), demon!bias, angel!reader, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), reader gives her first bj

words: ~ 6.7 k

PART1 (M)

PART2 (M)

“I’m going out to pick up some food and stuff, do you want to come along?” you heard him ask. You had your legs up against the wall, your back on the bed, and a magazine in your hands. The women on the pages had you gushing, on the verge of hypnotization. You swore if you looked at those infatuating pictures one minute longer, you’d be swallowed whole by them.

When you had worked your way through some science books and were still hungry for more to read, H/N had brought you some magazines, mostly about fashion but also gossip and lifestyle tips. Turns out letting a clueless angel read about what’s supposed to be good for women was not a smart idea. Up in the clouds, from where you used to watch earth’s women, they had all looked equal to you – beautiful, intelligent, and capable. Now, down in the reality of it all, things appeared much more complicated. Which angel could have known it took diets, workout routines, anti-aging creams and the perfect outfit for your body type to be viewed the same way you had always looked at women from above? And most importantly, how did any woman manage to uphold all these expectations the magazines named? It was all too much and seemingly impossible. Abruptly, you were pulled out of your train of thoughts.

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” he asked, peaking his head through the door. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, putting down the magazine on your chest. “No, I’d like to stay here.”

“Alright,” he said, “Would you like me to bring you anything from the store?”

He walked over to you and sat on the bed. His hands softly brushed over your hair, down your cheek and neck, barely touching your collarbones. He was in his black, intimidating clothes, per usual, but his eyes held nothing but fondness for you.

“Actually, maybe there is something,” you said. “Look.”

You picked up the magazine and pointed at the page.

“Can you buy me a dress like this one? They say it would fit me best. And could you get some makeup for me? I don’t know much about it, but maybe you-“ you said. Usually, he was one to listen carefully to every of your words, as if you were the most interesting person he had ever met. This time, he interrupted you.

“Stop. Where is this coming from?” he asked. “I want you to forget all those things you’ve read in those magazines, okay?”

You were confused, thinking you were learning by reading those articles. Gently, he caressed your face. “You know I’ll buy you anything in the world, right? But only if that’s what youwant. Everything they tell you to do, everything they tell you to buy, it’s brainwashing. You will wear whatever dress you find pretty, and if you want to wear makeup, that’s fine. But you will only do those things if you want to do them, okay? There’s nothing you need to change about yourself.”

“But they say you need to start early to get a nice body, and to prevent aging,” you said. “They say men will admire me.”

“We’re immortal, my angel,” he said. “And even if we weren’t, what’s wrong with growing old? Wouldn’t you want the traces of your experiences to be visible on your skin? Those companies, they all just want your money and so they try to scare you into believing you’re not good enough. But truth is, you always are. All those times people tug on their skin in front of a mirror, or whenever they break a sweat trying to lose weight, or when they compare themselves to those who look different from them – they’re already good enough. They’re perfect. This worlds wants you to never be at peace with who you are. But you need to promise me you won’t succumb to those nonsensical tactics to make you hate yourself. And don’t you ever wait for a man to give you approval. That’s your job and your job only.”

You listened, wide-eyed and intrigued. No magazine could ever speak so honestly, and you believed every word he said. After all, you trusted him much more than some random author of an article that was trying to sell you the latest weight loss-magic-powder.

“Okay, I promise.” You sat up and leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’ve never even really thought about it, but I think I’m pretty.”

“Not thinking about it might just be the best way to go about it in this world,” he said, and placed a kiss on your forehead. The feeling of warmth lingered on your skin seconds after he had already pulled away.

“I change my mind, then,” you said, “Do you think you can get me a dress like this?”

You showed him a different picture this time. It showed a lot more skin than the one you had pointed out before. You only realized this when he was already smirking at your choice.

“I’ll see what I can find,” he said. “That’s an interesting option, angel.”

“Hey! I just like the color, alright?” you defended yourself, making him chuckle. Over the course of four weeks, you had come to know his insinuations and his little jokes better. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny the incredible sensation his eyes on you gave you. When he goggled at you because you had decided to wear his shirt for a day, or the way he watched you welcome him with open arms when he came home.

You now understood that certain words or actions, or even just an article of clothing – or lack thereof – could conjure an insatiable hunger in his eyes. At first, it was a little scary, having a demon stare you down as if he wanted to eat you up. But now that you knew what his hands felt like on your skin, and that his lips were made for much gentler actions than to hurt you, you wanted nothing more than to coax the starving demon into playing with you, any chance you got. And perhaps that dress in the catalogue would do just that, and not only bring you joy. It was a win-win, really.

“I’ll be back in the afternoon,” he said. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“You know I always do,” you said.

“I’ll give you all the missed attention when I get home, alright?” he said, bending down to your ear. “You can have whatever you want, then.”

To be honest, half of the time you didn’t know what you wanted him to do. But with every time his hands explored your body you learned more. There were so many things humans did to make each other feel good, you doubted you’d ever be able to try everything. His promise made you wish he was already back home when he had barely stepped out of the door. One last grin and nod and he left you alone.

What did angels do on a Saturday noon? Usually, you’d be patrolling your village, entertaining yourself by watching children play tag, admiring lovers walking hand in hand or discovering a family that had just adopted a small animal. Their human eyes shined when they felt happiness, and it was infectious to you. You wanted to send your blessing to all of them, make sure they never felt anything but delight, but you knew that wasn’t how business worked down there. Some things were even out of your control. Now, on earth, you were ready to take whichever hardships were to come if it meant you could have been with your demon lover.

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You had only gotten up an hour ago. Last night, you had been kept awake for long. He was untiring when he was between your legs. You had learned that he didn’t need nearly as much sleep as you did, and when he set his mind to making you come by his administrations, he didn’t waver to do so. But losing sleep in exchange for pleasure was okay with you. Time became meaningless, either way, when you had your face buried in a pillow, tears threatening to spill over from how good he made you feel. Sometimes he made you come while sitting in his lap, then you’d cling to him like a baby and muffle your whimpers by pressing your lips against the skin of his shoulder. He loved telling you ‘Look at me’ right when you were falling. It was hard to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head or not to collapse in his arms, but for him you would try your best. Often you found your thoughts lingering on the memory of his gaze when you came apart under his touch. It had something of fascination and protectiveness, and you’d never get enough of it.

Great, now you wanted him again. And he wasn’t here. How had you gotten this way? On occasion you wondered if one of the other angels had already spotted you and the sins you were committing. You wouldn’t call them sins now, or ever again. It wasn’t like you wanted to adapt to a demon lifestyle. But you felt at home for the first time, here on earth. It was the perfect grey zone between heaven and hell.

As an attempt to appease your needy mind, you picked up your magazine again. Just because you shouldn’t believe everything they said didn’t mean you shouldn’t have read it at all, right? You flipped through articles on fitness and the newest fashion, but after skimming the pages for only a few seconds, you were done with those tips. He wanted you because of who you were – an angel – and you doubted than any beauty routine could make him more obsessed with you than he already was. But then you read something most curious to your angel eyes. ‘How to make him feel best – tips from a porn star’ the title said. Whatever in the heaven a porn star was, they seemed to be some sort of expert on pleasuring men, and you, always eager to learn something new, were intrigued from the very first word.

But soon you had to admit, you weren’t at all sure what they were referring to with those words and actions. When you and your demon boyfriend had sex, he usually did most of the work, while you took whatever teasing or pleasure he inflicted on you. He had said he liked it this way, but now you weren’t so sure. Or was this ‘10 things to do become a blowjob-pro’ – list just another attempt of society to brainwash women? You weren’t one to initiate talk about sexual stuff, but maybe you’d try to question him on the meaning of what you had read.

You flipped another page and finally you had arrived at a page you could work with. It was a bunch of comfort food recipes. Right away you fell in love with the picture of the freshly baked cinnamon rolls in the top right corner. H/N had promised you to teach you how to cook, but so far you hadn’t made much progress. The difficulty level read beginner, and five minutes later you stood in the kitchen. With some music in the background your enthusiasm only sparked more. Baking was new and came with slight overwhelmingness and the stress of making sure you weren’t forgetting to add any ingredient. But the Christmassy scent of cinnamon and the feeling of making something from scratch made you happy, and with rapt attention you finished your first completed recipe ever.

You wiped some flour off your forehead. Hopefully H/N would like the cinnamon rolls too, because as tasty you found your creation, there was no way you were able to devour them all by yourself. As if on cue, you suddenly heard the key slide into the lock of the front door. Probably prompted by the heavenly scent, he called your name.

“Here,” you answered, mouth full of a bite of cinnamon roll. When he walked in, he already had his famous smirk on his face. It was your favorite. You knew it was reserved only for you.

“What did you make?” he asked. But he had his answer when he saw the baked goods in front of you. He set down the bags and put his arms on your waist from behind. With a hum, you lifted the cinnamon roll to his lips, and he took a bite. He almost moaned at the taste and you grinned.

“Do you like them?” you asked, already knowing the answer but still awaiting more praise. You squealed a little at how quickly he spun you around. His nose touched yours and your heartbeat raced.

“It’s like they came with you straight from heaven,” he said. “Hmm…I missed my angel.”

His lips when he kissed you tasted like sugar and spice and you melted straight into his touch. You only noticed he had run his finger over the gooey leftover icing when it was already too late. He was a demon after all. And if demons were good at one thing, it was causing mischief.

“Hey,” you protested at his hands on your neck. Then your reaction quickly altered as his finger slid lower, down to your collar bones and to where your low-cut shirt started. “Great, now I’m all sticky.”

You didn’t understand at first that messing with you wasn’t his full intention. But he tilted his head to the side and ran his hot tongue over the icing on your skin, and you gasped suddenly. This wasn’t just a joke. He wanted you. He made a humming noise, as if the sweetness combined with your own taste were only complimenting each other. When he pulled down the neckline of your shirt a little, so he could have every last drop of the sugary substance on your skin, you couldn’t help but whimper. You wanted so desperately for him to do it again, that you thought about sticking your own fingers into the bowl of icing and smearing it on your chest. His eyes were playful when he looked up at your reaction.

“Oh no. If you’re all sticky I guess you’ll need a shower, will you?” he said, “What a coincidence. I was thinking of taking one, just now.”

You had never taken a shower with him, or anyone, for that matter. But you had a feeling that the both of you wouldn’t be keeping to yourself, standing naked in front of each other. You didn’t mind. And you guessed your approval was written on your face, because he pulled you in and kissed you hard. Again, you remembered the article you had read. Was now a good time to ask him about it?

While you were contemplating, his tongue slid over your bottom lip and met yours. You had been too shy to ask before, but now you were speechless. Gently, he grabbed your hand and led you out of the kitchen and into the hallway. You were a mess of lips and tongues and hands and feet stumbling over each other. Every few meters you stopped to push yourself close against him. It was like a game of who could go without kissing each other for longer. And you were both lousy at it.

He loved pushing you up against the wall, trapping you between his arms on each side of your head. This way, he could brush up against your shaking body and you had nowhere left to go. Needless to say, you had no intentions of getting away, no matter what. He knocked the breath out of your lungs, and you kissed him back like you could breathe him in instead. As if he had become your new source of oxygen, or whatever it was you really needed to survive. It these moments, air seemed like a subsidiary matter. So long as you had his hot tongue licking down your neck and his busy hands on your ass under your dress, nothing else truly mattered.

Your kisses were open-mouthed and far more confident than they had been only weeks ago. You now knew how much he liked when you grabbed his hair tightly, or when you whispered his name against his devouring lips, as if it was the only word you had ever been taught. Like it was the only word you ever wanted to know. Before you had even made it to the bathroom, half of your clothes were scattered somewhere along the way.

“I can’t believe I just had you yesterday and here I am already missing you this much again,” he mumbled against your earlobe, teeth playing with your soft skin. “You really are otherworldly. There’s no other explanation.”

His words made you feel proud. The pleasure was one thing you had come to love quickly, but then you noticed the power you could have over him, by merely existing. It was almost unbelievable, but there he was, hard and needing you, day by day. Again, your mind wandered off to the magazine article.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice must had been different from your usual timid tone when you were in the middle of something unholy.

“Anything, angel,” he said. He let his lips linger on your cheek, half an inch from your mouth, and your stomach twisted in how badly you wanted him to sip on your lips like he was starving.

“Do you like always doing everything when we- ,“ you said. He gave you a puzzled expression, so you tried to explain yourself better. “I mean, if you ever want me to do more, you can ask me to. I don’t know everything yet, but I can learn.”

You weren’t even sure if you understood what the heaven you had just stammered. His look reminded you of the one he had when you asked him to buy him the dress and the makeup that morning.

“I love what we have, little angel,” he said, “What’s making you think you need to do anything differently?”

How were you supposed to explain what you had read when you hadn’t even properly grasped it yourself? You opted for taking his hand and walking him to the bedroom. There the magazine still lay, like an ancient cursed book you weren’t sure you wanted to know front to back. You picked it up and quickly handed him the article. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you opted to take a seat on the edge of the bed.

His lips curled into a devilish grin upon eyeing the page, and you thought the ground might swallow you whole. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all and spared yourself the embarrassment. But at the same time, you were eager to know.

“I thought I told you, magazines are just trying to make you doubt yourself,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“I know, but if there’s anything I can do to make you feel as good as you make me feel, I want to do it,” you confessed. He bent down, cupping your face.

“No one’s ever felt as good to me as you have, angel,” he said, “You’re heaven to me. Do you understand that?”

With your mouth squished together slightly, you nodded your head that was in his hands.

“By the devil, you’re so adorable,” he said. “If you really want to know, though, I’ll show you.”

Even more eagerly, you nodded again. He chuckled. You couldn’t handle how handsome he was – all messy hair, bare chest and black eyes that made you dream of the most unholy things possible.

“You remember how I kiss you…down there?” he asked. You hummed, cheeks on fire. “And how I’ve asked you to put your hands on my cock before?”

You did. But it had been brief, only a few pumps and small touches, until he had become too needy. You had been whining so deliciously for him to fuck you and so he had to have you on the spot.

“In the way you touched me then…you could use your mouth on me. Make me come with your perfect lips and sweet hands,” he said. “If that’s what you want, too.”

“I do!” you said with enthusiasm that only an angel at the feasibility of making someone’s day could bring on. “Let’s postpone that shower.”

The pride in his eyes lasted for approximately two seconds before the raw hunger replaced it. He climbed onto the bed and pat his thighs. On command, you settled on his lap. The simple feeling of his bulge under your center, even if interrupted by some fabric, made your head dizzy and your stomach drop. You kneaded your hands, not sure where to touch him first. But just as he always did to you, you had the impulse to start by his head and go lower from there. Although you were on top of him, he looked amused at your shy eyes.

“Can I kiss your neck, like you always kiss mine?” you asked.

“Be my guest,” he said, grinning like he had just won the lottery. Your lips met his skin and you used your tongue the way you had felt him do it. His scent was intoxicating. It made the empty bedsheets you breathed in sometimes, when he left in the middle of the night for his demon antics, seem like nothing. You used your hands to stabilize yourself as you moved lower. The hiss he let out when you felt up on his abs and waistline almost scared you. Then you realized it was a good sign. Only for the blink of an eye you dared to graze your teeth on his skin. His reaction was immediate.

“Shit,” he cussed, “That’s my angel.”

So, he liked that. You couldn’t wait to tease him by biting him in the future. Provoking a demon would have sounded like something close to a death wish to you, had you thought about it months ago. Now, with a demon as tame as they come beneath you, the thought only excited you. As he liked to do, you touched him through his boxers while you continued your journey down his chest and stomach. The guttural moan he released made your head spin and you never wanted him to be quiet. Usually, you weren’t in a mind state to notice his groans, or your own noises were covering his.

“You’re doing so good, little angel,” he said, short of breath. Once again, your effect on him surprised you. Where was the intimidating, big bad demon you had been taunted by?

“I’m gonna fuck you so well for this,” he said, “Even the angels in heaven will hear you scream. Wouldn’t you like that?”

There he was. You pressed your legs together at the simple mention of him inside of you, but if he thought you were going to answer, he’d be waiting endlessly. You still had enough respect for your angels not to think of them in this moment. Nonetheless you hummed weakly. When you got to his hipbone, you hesitated. You drowned out your doubts by kissing him there, while you contemplated what to do next. Your hand was still wrapped around his clothed cock. It was rock hard, and a wet spot had formed on the fabric from how much he needed you. When your touch became softer, and you pulled your hands away slowly, he lifted his hips, not wanting you to stop. You supposed this was the part where you took off his boxers. At least he didn’t complain when you pulled them off his legs, so you assumed you were still on the right track.

Watching his face for signs of approval, your hand wrapped around his length. He almost seemed electrified at your touch. His jaw dropped slightly, and his hooded eyes somehow appeared even darker than usual.

“Just like that,” he said, “And now move your hand up and down.”

So you did. As you regarded your hand around his shaft, all you could think about was how it used to be. How did your hands, that were usually folded neatly in your lap while you looked down on earth, end up doing such ungodly things? And how come you didn’t even for a second feel guilty?

“Angel, you’re so good to me,” he moaned. Angel. That’s what he loved to emphasize. But was that what you were, still? Maybe you would simply stop putting yourself in a box. Perhaps you were just you, doing what you felt was right and would make you happy. And right now, having a demon clench his fists in your hair and saying your name in that tone, you couldn’t think of a lot of incidents that had made you happier. Was this the part where you should use your mouth? You weren’t sure, but your eyes jumped from his cock to his face and it caught his eyes.

“You can take me in your mouth if you want. If you ever feel like stopping, just do so,” he encouraged you, “But remember, no teeth there, okay?”

You grinned and nodded. You parted your lips and your tongue placed kitten licks on the underside of his member. When you reached the top, you took him between your lips, mirroring the motion of your hands around him. You were surprised at how comfortable you were, when ten minutes ago you were ready to personally descend to hell from embarrassment. There was something enticing about the power you possessed in that moment. You understood humans just a little better, once again. Knowing that the way he bucked his hips and his groans were caused by you and only you had you smiling inwardly. It was a way you had never caught yourself smile before. You felt brave, and like you could do anything, with a demon so at your pity.

It didn’t take long for you to figure out where he was most sensitive. Whenever you pressed your tongue against the tip of his cock, he let out a sigh. It was almost like relief, as if he had been waiting for you all his life. And now here you were, granting him all his wishes. You bobbed your head, but kept your attention on his sweet spot, his moans just too delightful not to evoke them on purpose.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he said. Often, you looked up at him. His lids fluttered from the pleasure, but he seemed to like it when you made eye contact. For a moment, you lifted your head, needing some air. Gently, he caressed your face, like you were made of precious porcelain.

“Which one of my dreams did you escape from, little angel?” he asked. You smiled sheepishly, lowering your head. Again, you wrapped your lips around his length. You wondered what he was thinking about. Was his mind as free from any worries as yours whenever he fucked you? Was he able to form any coherent thoughts or was his brain going into the same mental blackout you always experienced?

You continued the way you had, sucking the tip of his cock while your hand pumped him. From time to time, you took a breather and pulled away. Little did you know what you were doing to him. With the short intervals of your lips on him and the pauses in between, you unknowingly made everything more intense for him. It was a dangerous game of edging him you were playing, and you were outright unaware of it.

But why would he have complained? In that moment, you were his personal guardian angel, making sure all his needs were fulfilled. When he saw your lips, all red and puffy, he asked himself where you had been hiding all this time. You peeked up at him through your angel eyes and he felt his entire world become whole in front of him. He was completely and absolutely at your mercy, inebriated by your entire being. Never in his long time on earth had he seen someone so ravishingly beautiful, yet so unaware of their might. He swore to himself in that moment, he’d do anything to make you love him forever.

As divinely as you were treating him, he suddenly wanted you in a different way. And if you continued your sweet actions, he wasn’t sure if that would still be possible. He gently cupped your head, making you look up. You hummed in question.

“You’re doing so well,” he said, “Let me give back to you, won’t you? Does my angel want some attention, too?”

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t practically touch-starved at this moment. And having been taught to always be truthful, you nodded before you even knew it.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, “Why don’t you take off the rest of your clothes?”

When you got up to slip out of your dress, your legs were weak. You hadn’t even done anything, and yet your body felt heavy. All you wanted was to go back to him and have him so close, it felt like he could have been a part of you. As much as you had felt on top of the world minutes ago, his hungry eyes made you shrink inwardly. But it wasn’t out of fear. It was almost admiration, or rather anticipation. You knew he knew your body inside out, and you couldn’t wait for him to prove it to you.

“Come here, angel,” he said. You climbed back onto the bed. “Turn around for me, okay?”

You were on your knees, sitting up right, facing the headboard. His breath on your shoulder sent a shiver down your spine. Then his hands snaked around your body from behind you. A small whimper left your lips when he ran them down your chest, fingers drawing small shapes on your breasts. They continued their way down your stomach and to your parted thighs. The cold air was hitting your dripping core, and had you not had enough self-control, you would have moaned at the mere sensation of his fingertips on the inside of your thigh. But maybe that was just what he was waiting for. After all, he was still taking his time with you. But in this instance, you knew what you wanted, and more importantly when you wanted it.

“Please,” you said. You weren’t sure what to say but starting with a ‘please’ was never a mistake.

“Please what?” he asked. You couldn’t see his face, yet you knew his devilish grin that must’ve been plastered on his face. He never missed a chance to make you shy. “Is this what you want?”

He slid two of his fingers down your slit slowly. It would forever be a mystery to you, how such a simple touch could put you in such a mental state of disarray. You whined at how needy you were, fighting the urge to press your legs together. In a second, his fingers were coated in your juices. When he pressed them against your opening, but didn’t push any further, your head spun with frustration. An impulse yelled at you to grab his hand and show him how you wanted him, but you sensed there was a specific aim in his teasing. Above that, you weren’t close to that brave. Purposely lightly, he rubbed circles onto your clit. Your head fell back onto his shoulder and your breaths came out in little, desperate noises.

Before meeting him, you never knew this sort of inability to control your body. Having power over your motions was an obviousness to you. But as with so many things in life, you had been wrong. Or rather, you had not known better. Now, with his lips brushing over the side of your exposed neck, you were willing to let him do whatever he wanted to do to you. If there was a noise or reaction he wanted to coax out of you, he could do so. And if evoking your little melodic whimper was his aim, he was on the right path, fingers teasing your pussy and flicking over your clit. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you. In fact, he had a head so full of ideas of things you could do together, you doubted you’d ever start to get bored here.

“I want you…inside of me,” you said, surprising yourself. This was your desperate body taking control of your motor speech center, that little region in your brain that allowed you to let out what you wanted to say. Your cheeks were hot for only a moment, then you realized if it got you what you wanted so badly, speaking your mind was probably a fantastic idea. You should really do it more in the future, you thought.

“What my angel wants, my angel gets,” he said. Just for a few seconds, he moved his fingers much faster. You yelped at the sudden pleasure, your hand wrapping around his wrist. His other hand reached for your hand, softly taking it away as you became a whimpering puddle in his arms. You were ready to fall, give in to the pleasure and let go. It was what you so desperately wanted. But as quickly as it had begun, he removed his hands. His attention was gone, and you were left yearning for more.

“Lift your hips,” he said, softly touching your sides. A part of you wanted to cry out, hold him responsible for denying you your sweet release. But you knew it would be no use, and he would tell you to wait either way. You were still on your knees, but straightened up, arms hanging by your sides, waiting for his touch. He was right behind you, his upper body against yours. When you felt his cock run over your slick folds, you sighed at the awaited sensation. The stretch when he filled you up felt so perfect, so out of this world, you reached for his hand to hold on to.

“Why didn’t you ask me earlier if you wanted me so bad?” he asked. He squeezed your hand as his other pulled you flush against his back while he pushed himself further into you. He’d thrust against you for a while, only to pull out completely, and repeat the whole process. It was sending you into complete overdrive.

“Because I wanted to make you feel good,” you said. “Only you, for once.”

You moaned when he snapped his hips against your ass, picking up the pace. In an attempt to support your jittery legs, you grabbed the headboard in front of you. Your breathing came out in short huffs, uneven and a little shaky.

“You’re so sweet and selfless…my patient angel,” he said, his fingers coming in contact with your clit again. His touch was an allure to you, and you wished you could have stayed this way forever. No thoughts, just his body and his dark voice to sedate your mind. “I’ll give you anything you want. You know that, right?”

You hummed and nodded. “Yes. And I’ll do the same for you.” Your words were interrupted by your small whimpers. There had been a time you didn’t know what it felt like, when you didn’t even know there was a such thing of having someone inside of you. Now you couldn’t get enough of him. You were already so sensitive that every time he quickened his thrusts and moved his fingers on you slightly faster, he had you hanging right over the edge. And he could tell by the way you held your breath when you were close. He didn’t want you going there just yet.

“As much as I love your mouth around my dick, this is my favorite way of having you,” he said. He used both of his hands to dig into your sides, pulling your hips closer to him every time he dragged his cock through your walls. You agreed. Should any of your angels ever catch wind of this, they would ban you to earth – or worse, send you to hell. So be it, you thought. You’d be like your lover. One of the creatures of the darkness, thought to be the personification of sin. Even if they ripped your angel title from you, they could never steal away what you had now.

Yes, you were meddling with a demon, but also having the time of your life. It was vastly better than spending your days judging humans for being themselves and for humans living the true way they want to live, instead of abstaining from the simple pleasures of life. Their true colors shown, they weren’t harming anybody, but rather making the world a more acceptable and open-minded place. You aspired to be like them.

“This is my kind of heaven,” he said. It’s what he always called you. Heaven. He groaned when you clenched your walls around him, your inevitable high drawing closer.

“This is my new heaven…you are,” you replied. He chuckled darkly, probably relishing in your confession. The thought that he could make an angel reject the very place they should have belonged filled him with a sense of superiority.

“Look how well you’re taking me,” he said. His hand wrapped around your body, pulling you tighter. He slipped his hand between your legs again, and you almost felt like collapsing, had he not held on to you. On instinct, you closed your eyes and let the feeling crash over you.

“Let me see you come, little angel,” he spoke in your ear, just for you to hear. You would do anything for him. You quivered and buckled at the severity of the feeling, but he had you. Your moans were high and dragged out, as his digits pressed harder onto the sensitive nub on your center.

“Take just a little more for me, can you?” he asked. You obliged willingly, nodding your head while it was still full of nothingness. Even as he kept fucking you, it was pure bliss for another while. It made your legs shake a little, but you felt so safe there, in his embrace, the sensitivity was alright to handle. You could tell by how sloppy his thrusts were becoming that he was almost there, too. He was pressing you against his chest as if you were all he ever wanted. His moans sounded like home to you as he came. He said your name and bent forward, reaching for the headboard, but you both tumbled into the bedsheets together instead. You giggled at your shared clumsiness and you could feel his chest move from laughing as he was lying on top of your back.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he said, “You’re amazing.”

You turned your head and his lips brushed along your temple, kissing you softly. He brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes so you could look at him. Seeing his beautiful face had you falling into an even deeper state of serenity.

“I want to cuddle,” he said, and it was probably the sweetest thing you had ever heard a demon say. As he rolled off you, you followed his movements and settled in his embrace. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on your skin, but neither of you cared enough to get up just yet.

“I love what you’ve done to me,” you said.

“What is it I have I done to you?” he asked, fingers drawing nonsensical patterns on the side of your bare hips.

“You changed me. But not in a bad way. You let me be who I want to be and showed me that that’s okay,” you said, “You made me understand. Some sins aren’t that sinful at all.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

The Quiet Room

- Chapter 6 - ao3 - (previous tumblr pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5)

The Lan sect’s rules said Learning comes first, and that was because learning was the root of all things.

Humans were changeable and ever-changing, molded by their heritage and their environment; it was through careful education that they learned to comprehend goodness – it was only through constant learning that they could keep themselves walking on the path of righteousness.

Learning from books, learning from others, learning from one’s own mistakes; it didn’t matter.

What was important was that you couldn’t stop learning.

You had to keep moving forward.

Lan Wangji had for some time entertained the thought that his life had stopped when Wei Wuxian’s had. It had felt as though it had: it felt as if his heart had been irrevocably shattered, like a priceless vase that had once contained all his tender feelings – all those feelings that, lacking their container, would now slip through his fingers forever, leaving him as empty as a soulless puppet. He’d thought he was doomed never to love again, never to learn again, all his mind consumed with nothing by memories.

He’d been wrong, of course.

Even with Wei Wuxian gone, he was still learning.

There were his recent meditations on the subject of silence and noise, for one.

There were his wards, for another.

Lan Sizhui was a polite and thoughtful child, inquisitive but a little shy and hesitant, a little fearful to assert himself – a little too quiet, in a way that Lan Wangji was starting to be able to recognize as being not good, a silence and reticence born of concern and anxiety rather than genuine introversion. Luckily, there was also Lan Jingyi, who was and had always been the liveliest and most spirited of children, and yet he, too, was just a little bit too loud in a way that reflected his own method of displaying anxiety, another startling realization that was brand new.

Lan Wangji had always associated quiet with reserve and self-control, noise with carelessness and recklessness, but being in the controlled chaos of Qinghe and really sincerely listening to it, accepting it, came with its own set of revelations. He found that there were people who were naturally loud and those that made themselves be loud, just as there were those who were quiet and those who were forced into quietude. Lan Jingyi worried just as much as the next person, but he displaced those feelings through distraction rather than through the force of his willpower, taking on the role of clown or hero as suited each moment, unafraid to cast himself in the role of aggressor if it would allow Lan Sizhui the chance to play the mediator. The subconscious division of roles allowed Lan Sizhui to feel useful and in control, reducing his anxiety, while Lan Jingyi got to feel taken care of, which reduced his own – it was good, in a way, but after some consideration Lan Wangji carefully took them both in hand and told them that they would need to be more thoughtful about it.

Lan Sizhui could not, should not, always have to be the peacemaker, always yielding and kind and gentle and quiet: he deserved to be loud, too. He deserved to be assertive, to be heard, to feel entitled to take up space regardless of his utility to those around him. He should never feel like he had to pay in service for the right to exist.

And by the same token, Lan Jingyi shouldn’t feel burdened to always have to be the one to take the first step, always acting as the driving force, the loud and opinionated one. He should have the opportunity, and the obligation, to think through what he was doing or saying, to be thoughtful and careful, to sometimes yield if he wished; he should be granted space of his own to make sure that his actions were what he wished them to be rather than some impulse.

Lan Wangji only wished he’d had the wisdom to tell Wei Wuxian the same thing while he’d been alive.

He’d been so short-sighted when he was younger, at first unable to recognize how he felt about the man and then unable to figure out how to speak with him – he’d been unable to break his own habitual silence, and equally unable to see the depths concealed in Wei Wuxian’s brash arrogance, especially towards the end. Like Lan Jingyi, Wei Wuxian’s reckless courage was genuine, especially in the happy days of their youth; like Lan Jingyi, when things got bad, Wei Wuxian had taken refuge in more of the same, building himself walls made of noise that were designed to keep everyone out.

Wei Wuxian might have been noisy and loud, right to the very end, but in his own way he’d been just as alone as Lan Wangji in his excess of quiet.  

The next generation, Lan Wangji thought fiercely, would do better.

He felt comforted by that thought.

The children were chewing over Lan Wangji’s words as they walked along the outmost ramparts of the Unclean Realm, already inured to the glittering barrier that hung in their sky, full of arrays and inscriptions – they were accompanying Lan Wangji on his daily walk.

The Nie sect’s doctors had a very different regimen for curing illnesses than the Lan sect’s, he’d found. Thirty-three strikes of the discipline whip: in both places he’d gotten stitched back up, but while the Lan sect doctors had allowed him to retreat into seclusion, prescribing medicine and rest and self-reflection, the Nie sect doctors insisted on coupling medicine and meditation with exercise. Intermittent and gradual exercise, meant to increase flexibility and reduce muscle atrophy – it wasn’t really that different from what Lan Wangji had been left to do on his own back at home, but he found that it was easier to struggle against his stubborn body when he had company to encourage him to take that extra step beyond his limits, their voices pushing him when his own willpower was insufficient. Even the silent presence of the two children, walking beside him, helped him find the reason to keep going.

Truly, there was much to consider on the subject of quiet and noise, of loud and soft, of loneliness and isolation and how no amount of either introversion nor extroversion could alone save you from them.

Lan Wangji was still thinking it over when he heard a new noise.

It was also an old noise, painfully familiar from all those days of war – before he even consciously identified what the sound was, his back had straightened, his legs sinking into a prepared pose, his mind already summoning his spiritual energy to the forefront in case he needed to defend himself.

Cultivators, flying on swords at speed.

Lan Wangji looked up and saw them: men and women both, a small group – a forward scouting troop, small enough to be subtle and sneak ahead to see what was happening but large enough to ensure someone would be able to return to the main force and warn them if they did find something.

They were dressed in the colors of Yunmeng Jiang, and it was Jiang Cheng leading them.

Lan Wangji’s back stiffened.

He had not seen Jiang Cheng since the massacre at the Nightless City, although he’d heard the stories of how he had turned against his own shixiong and led the greatest of the forces that besieged the Burial Mounds. He’d decided then that he’d never wanted to see Jiang Cheng ever again – he hadn’t been able to comprehend how Jiang Cheng could do a thing like that to Wei Wuxian, who he’d loved.

He still didn’t understand, but he thought, perhaps, that he ought to be a little less hasty in judging others by his own standards.

He’d done enough of that.

“Hanguang-jun!” Jiang Cheng called, seeing him, and pulled ahead of all the other Jiang sect cultivators, leaving them hanging back warily. Lan Wangji turned to face him, conscious of the two young children still clinging to his hands and now half-hiding behind his robes – conscious, too, of the shimmering but translucent barrier that divided them from Jiang Cheng, the barrier that had been raised to protect the Unclean Realm from Lan Wangji’s own brother and all the mistakes he had made, well-meaning as they were. “Hanguang-jun, good, you can tell me, what is the meaning of…”

Jiang Cheng trailed off, his eyes suddenly wide and almost bulging from the force of how hard he was staring at Lan Wangji.

“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Wangji said politely in greeting – or, well, politely enough.

“Lan Wangji,” Jiang Cheng said in return, his voice sounding strangled. “What…happened?”

Far too much to explain, so Lan Wangji didn’t, just waited for Jiang Cheng to continue with a more specific question.

“I mean, uh. The beacon went off,” Jiang Cheng said. He was still gawking, looking as though he were about to fall off his sword any second. “The – you know the one, the one that shows when a sect’s barrier defenses have been activated. I thought...”

He’d assumed there was an invasion, Lan Wangji realized, and had rushed over at once to try to help forestall it. It was a reasonable assumption, and a noble response: having once lost everything without being able to rely on the help of others, Jiang Cheng now sought to be the help that he had not had.

It was the sort of thing a righteous person would do, and in line with what Lan Wangji thought he’d known of Jiang Cheng’s character.

And yet…Jiang Cheng had still turned his back on Wei Wuxian.

Time and time again, he’d turned away fro him.

“I came to find out what happened, why they put up the shield,” Jiang Cheng continued. “I brought people with me to help, though I left them back a ways so it wouldn’t be an insult. And now I’m here and – and you’re here – and you’re…just…it’s…Lan Wangji, what happened to your forehead ribbon?”

Lan Wangji arched his eyebrows. “Is that your primary concern?”

Jiang Cheng waved his hands around, almost flailing, and Lan Wangji couldn’t quite help but feel a sudden stab of amusement – and then of sorrow, because the flailing was almost painfully familiar. He had seen Wei Wuxian do much the same when he encountered something unexpected, whether some threat or some new maneuver by the Wen sect or, in one notable instance, the unanticipated appearance of a fish in a place where one would not normally expect fish to be.

“I have taken a leave of absence from the Lan sect,” Lan Wangji finally explained, deciding to be magnanimous and take pity on his former comrade in arms. “The Nie sect has permitted me to remain with them while I determine my next course of action. As for the shield, there is no imminent invasion. The situation is – complicated.”

Jiang Cheng huffed. “You don’t say!”

Still, the explanation seemed to help steady him, somewhat, and Lan Wangji observed that Jiang Cheng did not look his best: tired, with circles under his eyes and an unhealthy skin tone. Too much work, too little rest, and probably nightmares…because of what had happened to Wei Wuxian, perhaps? But if so, why had he done it in the first place?

“I cannot let you in,” Lan Wangji added, even though technically he had one of the only remaining guest tokens that still functioned. Jiang Cheng nodded, seemingly having expected that. “I can escort you to the sect leader’s quarters to have your request for admission approved.”

That the person approving the request would probably be Nie Huaisang, Lan Wangji did not say – not so much out of caution, which would probably be justified, but rather out of a completely inexplicable urge to see Jiang Cheng start flailing once again upon finding out.

Was this how Wei Wuxian felt all the time?

Interesting.

He began to walk again, the children at his sides slowly coming out, and Jiang Cheng did him the courtesy of not mentioning how slow and stiff he was, although Lan Wangji thought he remembered enough of Jiang Cheng’s mannerisms to interpret the twisted grimace on his face as he glanced over time and time again as a look of concern.

After a little while in which Lan Wangji walked and Jiang Cheng floated alongside him on his sword, the Jiang sect cultivators lagging behind by a respectable distance, the children getting over their fear to start looking around again, Jiang Cheng finally cleared his throat.

“There’s a medicinal blend of herbs that can counteract the anti-clotting effects of the discipline whip,” he said. Lan Wangji glanced at him: Jiang Cheng was staring forward, not looking at him at all any more. “It makes it heal faster. I can pass the prescription along to the Nie sect’s pharmacists, if you like.”

Jiang Cheng had also been struck by the discipline whip, Lan Wangji suddenly remembered. It had been a matter of deep embarrassment for him during the war, making him reluctant to remove clothing even when they were rancid with blood and poisonous fumes.

“Thank you,” he said, and for some reason the children took that as their cue that Jiang Cheng was actually all right and burst out in a flood of questions.

Lan Jingyi wanted to know how Jiang Cheng’s clothing had gotten to be such a vivid shade of purple, while Lan Sizhui was more curious about his sword and how shiny it was – the concerns of children, unburdened by the memories or concerns of adults. Their questions made Jiang Cheng smile, and Lan Wangji thought briefly of the orphaned Jin Ling, who had been temporarily given to Jiang Cheng’s custody to pick up some of the traditions of his maternal sect. A fancy way of saying that the Jin sect wanted him out of the way for a few years until he was worth teaching their own ways to, but Lan Wangji suspected Jiang Cheng would have taken any excuse at all to remain close to his kin.

“What, now children aren’t too noisy for you?” Jiang Cheng asked Lan Wangji, and for the first time it occurred to Lan Wangji that the tossed out words, broken off and abrupt, might be meant as a friendly tease.

“I am reevaluating my relationship with silence,” he said, and Jiang Cheng smirked, amused.

“I bet you are,” he said. “Nie Huaisang alone would drive a man to distraction…”

Lan Jingyi laughed and clapped and that, and, inspired, Lan Sizhui followed suit.

And then, suddenly, Jiang Cheng frowned.

“A-Yuan,” he said, and Lan Wangji was suddenly cold from head to toe, the chattering of the children suddenly too loud in his ears: he had forgotten that Jiang Cheng had also visited the Burial Mounds. “That’s – that’s A-Yuan, isn’t it?”

“Jiang Wanyin…” Lan Wangji started, his voice sticking in his throat, then trailed off. He did not know what he could say that would work to convince Jiang Cheng that he was wrong when he was right, but neither could he admit to the truth. Even if Nie Mingjue had been kind enough to allow Lan Wangji to come to the Nie sect to stay, and to bring the two children with him, that had been under the premise that they were Lan sect children. If he ever found out that Lan Sizhui had been born surnamed Wen…

Nie Mingjue would not hurt a child, he was too righteous for that. But he might not be inclined to let that child grow up in his sect, either.

Jiang Cheng’s face was twisted in a strange sort of way, as if he couldn’t decide to be angry or relieved. “I thought he’d died,” he murmured, more to himself. “I thought…what is that?”

Lan Wangji was momentarily confused by the question, focused as he was by the terrifying implications of Jiang Cheng’s discovery, but then he saw that Jiang Cheng’s gaze went further into the distance.

He turned to look, then felt twist of unpleasantness deep in his belly: there was his brother in the sky, flying to the main gate on Shuoyue, and beside him was Jin Guangyao.

Why did you have to bring him? Lan Wangji thought, unhappy, but he already knew the answer to that. His brother trusted Jin Guangyao. Why wouldn’t he bring him?

If only he would trust the rest of them as much as he trusted that liar.

“We can discuss Lan Sizhui later,” Lan Wangji said, careful to emphasize both the surname and the courtesy name he’d given him – painfully obvious now that he thought about it, though at the time it had seemed only appropriate, the only name he could bestow that fit – and quickened his steps. “Now that my brother has arrived, things will become difficult.”

He wondered, a little bitterly, if his brother had even noticed that he was gone, or if he had been so thoroughly forgotten in his enforced ‘seclusion’ that it hadn’t even been thought of as a possibility.

“Lan Wangji!”

Lan Wangji came to a stop at Jiang Cheng’s shout. Suddenly full of anger, he turned his head back – surely Jiang Cheng didn’t hate Wei Wuxian so much that he wouldn’t let the matter of a small child go, even in the midst of a crisis?

Jiang Cheng was pointing into the distance. Strangely enough, it was not in the direction of the main gate, where Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao were even now landing, but somewhere even further beyond.

“Do you see it?” Jiang Cheng demanded, and his eyes were suddenly wild, his breathing disordered; he seemed far more disturbed than he had when he’d recognized A-Yuan. “Lan Wangji, tell me that you see it!”

Utterly lost, Lan Wangji focused his gaze on the far horizon. It was the same scenery as he’d seen there the past few days, the interspersed richness of the low valleys that quickly arced up into the mountains that surrounded the Unclean Realm. There was nothing there that was unusual…

Lan Wangji spotted a very faint glimmer.

Sun, he thought, the reflection of sun – sun off steel.

All of a sudden, he wasn’t on the ramparts of the Unclean Realm but standing beside Jiang Cheng on a rough-hewn fortress barely worthy of the name, watching the horizon grimly as the damned Wen scout’s flare did its work and the amassed forces of Wen Chao’s troops began to move inexorably in their direction. They would come, he had known, and they would kill them all if they could; it would take everything they had to stop them, and to survive long enough just to retreat once again.

For some of them to survive.

“Invasion,” he heard someone say, their voice hoarse, and only a moment later realized it was himself who had spoken. “Invasion…it’s an army!”

“It’s the Jin sect,” Jiang Cheng said, staring blankly as if he couldn’t believe what his eyes were telling him. For once, Lan Wangji understood him completely; he was similarly shocked. “They’re wearing gold, you can see it from here…the Jin sect has sent their armies here? How could they even think to dare? Chifeng-zun will annihilate them!”

Lan Wangji’s throat worked, and for a moment he felt drowned in the quiet once more, his voice not wanting to cooperate with him, his entire being willing or even wanting to return to the solace of seclusion if it would only mean that he wouldn’t have to hear the horrible din of war once more. But he was not a coward, and would do what he must – even speak of things that felt impossible to be spoken.

“That complicated situation I mentioned,” he said, and Jiang Cheng turned to look at him. “My brother has either conspired with or was duped into assisting Lianfang-zun in an attempt on Chifeng-zun’s life through destabilizing his qi and inducing a qi deviation.”

Jiang Cheng’s jaw dropped. “They did what?!”

“Chifeng-zuns remains alive, but is confined to his bed,” Lan Wangji continued, ignoring the interjection. “Nie Huaisang was the one who ordered the shield raised, saying that there might be an attack – I thought he was overreacting, but apparently not.”

“If Jin Guangshan can take over the Unclean Realm while Nie Mingjue is incapacitated, he can say that the incapacitation is worse than it really is,” Jiang Cheng said, abruptly getting it. Lan Wangji had forgotten how much he enjoyed working alongside those from Yunmeng Jiang, Wei Wuxian most of all but also in his absence Jiang Cheng, who was smart and did not require too many words to understand. “Everyone knows Nie Huaisang’s a good-for-nothing – it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for the Jin sect to claim that they came here at the invitation of the Nie sect to ‘rescue’ them, and remained in order to manage the sect on their behalf. Better that than have Chifeng-zun recover and come after you in vengeance!”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“But surely they didn’t think they’d be able to get away with it? Even if they could manage it for a while, as soon as the confusion cleared up, all the other sects would throw a fit…”

“Jin Ling,” Lan Wangji said, and Jiang Cheng blanched, seeming to realize the problem at once. His beloved nephew legally belonged to the Jin sect; if he dared to protest their actions, wouldn’t they be sure to take him away? As for the Lan sect, Lan Xichen would have been implicated through his actions – they could hold his participation over his head, forcing him to pick between supporting them and losing face for the whole sect, which would in turn weaken it. And that was assuming that Jin Guangyao didn’t somehow manage to talk Lan Xichen into thinking it was all for the best regardless…

There were only four Great Sects left, now. If the Lan and Jiang did nothing, who would be left to stand up for the Nie?

“I have to get inside. Nie Huaisang will need my support,” Lan Wangji said, but instead looked down at the children beside him.

“Go,” Lan Sizhui said, releasing his hand and stepping back away from him. “I’ll take Jingyi and hide in the room we’re staying in. You won’t need to worry about us – go, do what you need to!”

Jiang Cheng flinched as if he’d been struck.

Lan Wangji glanced at him. “The Jin sect army,” he said. “However unlikely, there’s still a chance that we are misinterpreting their motives.”

“I’ll go find out what I can,” Jiang Cheng agreed at once. “How many there are, what can be done…I’ll find out and report back.”

Lan Wangji tossed him the guest token he’d been given. “Be cautious,” he said. He still hadn’t forgiven Jiang Cheng for what he’d done in the Burial Mounds, but he was willing to wait until a better time to talk it over with him – now was not the time to try to gain understanding.

Jiang Cheng nodded and left at once, and Lan Wangji saw the children off, then hurried to do the same.

By the time he made it to the main hall, his brother and Jin Guangyao were already there, and Nie Huaisang was confronting them with nothing more than a fan gripped in white-knuckled hands and a glare.

“– dare you talk as if he’s gone mad, as if he can’t be trusted?” Nie Huaisang was shouting. “You should know how seriously we take such words here!”

“It is because of that that we are worried,” Lan Xichen said, and now it was Lan Wangji’s turn to flinch. His brother’s voice sounded just the way it always did, comforting in its familiarity: he sounded calm and patient, thoughtful and wise, sure of himself. He sounded as if he knew better than anyone else what was right and what was wrong. “Huaisang, you don’t know how much your brother has been worried about suffering the way your father did. He knows that qi deviations can be subtle as well as harsh – he understands that his reason might be the first to go –”

“And so you took it upon yourself to decide that for him?” Nie Huaisang sneered. “You keep saying that he understands, that he would understand, all that. But that’s a lie, isn’t it?”

“Huaisang, please,” Jin Guangyao said, his voice just as gentle as always. “You know we only want what’s best for your brother.”

“Do you?” Nie Huaisang said, but he was still looking at Lan Xichen. “You knew he hated the quiet room, er-ge. You knew that he’d never wanted anything to do with it – it’s not like that was anything new! That was something he’d said repeatedly, year after year, month after month, for his entire life. You knew how he felt about it, and you decided to ignore what he wanted in favor of what you wanted. How is that wanting what’s best for him?”

“I was only concerned for his health,” Lan Xichen said, sounding injured by the accusation. “I had nothing but good intentions…”

“Your intentions are immaterial compared to your actions,” Lan Wangji said, and they turned to look at him, both of them surprised – maybe they really hadn’t noticed he’d left the Cloud Recesses.

Well, he thought bitterly: they’d notice now.

He took a step into the room, then another.

“Your actions are this,” he said, ignoring the way his brother stared at his forehead, unadorned by the ribbon that had been there ever since he’d been a small child, receiving it for the first time from his uncle as a precious gift. “You did not trust or respect your elder brother’s word. You disregarded his decision, treating him like a child who can’t be trusted to make up his own mind – you put your own desires ahead of his, and in doing so, betrayed him. Did you really think he’d thank you for it?”

Did you think I’d thank you one day for authorizing our sect’s attack on the Burial Mounds without ever having to explain yourself? Even our uncle respected me enough to tell me at once what he had done and let me decide how I felt about it, accepting the consequences of his actions!

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen murmured. “You’re still healing, you shouldn’t be wandering around…where is your self-restraint?”

Where is your forehead ribbon, he meant, and Lan Wangji shook his head.

“Wangji, you don’t understand,” Jin Guangyao said, and Lan Wangji stiffened at the unasked-for intimacy of the address. “Whatever da-ge said to you, whatever he did, you cannot allow others to guide you by filling your heart with incomplete echoes of what you have lost. You will never forgive yourself.”

Lan Wangji was so furious that he could not speak. Was Jin Guangyao implying that Nie Mingjue had, what, seduced him? That Lan Wangji held his love for Wei Wuxian so cheap that he would have his head turned by the first person willing to make up to him in such a fashion?

“I should hope you know my da-ge better than that, er-ge,” Nie Huaisang said coldly, still speaking only to Lan Xichen. “Or is this something else where you will believe the words of that lying dog over everyone else and the evidence of your own reason to boot?”

“Huaisang, that is unwontedly cruel, and uncalled for,” Lan Xichen said, tearing his eyes away from Lan Wangji. “Whatever Wangji has decided, I do not blame Mingjue-xiong for it.”

Implying, Lan Wangji supposed, that it was Lan Wangji that was to blame for it.

“Put the blame where it belongs,” he said stiffly, staring at his brother as if looking at a stranger. “Was I to leave Chifeng-zun where I found him, half-dead and dying in our jingshi where you left him at Lianfang-zun’s incitement?”

“You think I don’t recognize that I’ve done wrong?” Lan Xichen demanded. “I will speak to Mingjue-xiong and apologize – I will explain my reasoning and let him decide how I can make it up to him. But please, there is no call for you to be cruel to A-Yao. Do not blame him for my mistakes.”

“What about for his lies?” Lan Wangji asked. He took a breath, sharp and unhappy, and suddenly it was desperately, urgently necessary to know the truth. “Brother, tell me you didn’t know. Tell me you weren’t in on it – that you didn’t try to kill Mingjue-xiong in order to cover up your affair.”

“What, kill, you think I would try to…Wangji! Affair?” Lan Xichen exclaimed, and he seemed genuinely shocked. “No, Wangji, you’ve misunderstood entirely! It’s not like that at all. Mingjue-xiong and A-Yao, they were once lovers –”

“No, we weren’t,” Nie Mingjue said.

They all turned at once. He was standing at the door, all but clinging to the doorframe to keep himself standing; he was swathed in bandages and still stuck with needles. None of them had heard him or seen him approach – he must have heard them shouting and dragged himself over.

He sounded tired. He sounded quiet.

He looked at Lan Xichen.

“I was never Meng Yao’s lover,” he said. “Not now, not before, not ever. And Xichen…you knew that, didn’t you?”

[oneirataxiahiraeth]

First Time Jitters

Pairings : SpencerReid x Fem!Reader

Warnings : unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, language

Summary : At a dinner party hosted by Rossi, the girls tells stories on the first times they’ve had to fake an orgasm. They all get intrigued by the readers silence and begin digging into her new relationship with Collague Spencer Reid and find out they haven’t even had sex together... yet.

Word Count : a little over 4K

“Are you kidding me? I’ve never felt anger like that in my life.” Emily laughed out, the rest of us entranced in her tales about the horrors of her sex life. “That’s was probably the first, but definitely not the last time I ever had to fake it.” She shrugged, and I felt my cheeks turn pink. We all sat around the fire pit at Rossi’s house after dinner, soaking in the warmth from the fire. Rossi and Hotch were inside, probably have a heart to heart about man troubles or something, and Reid was entertaining Henry and Jack showing them Magic’s tricks and ignoring any signs of the rest of the adults here.

“Well, sorry to you ladies but I can gladly say that none of my boo thangs ever had to worry about not finishing.” Morgan spoke proudly with a smile on his face. I could see on Garcia’s face how bad she wanted to make some inappropriate joke but she let it pass.

“Okay, I mean... Will is amazing. A totally sweetheart, but sometimes...” JJ groaned, leaving the rest up to our imaginations. If I remembered correctly she was actually the one who brought up the conversation. She mentioned something about her ‘mommy and daddy’ time last being a complete disaster that Will didn’t even know about.

I sat quietly listening to everyone tell their worst stories, laughing when they did and making some commentary from time to time. It was growing late and the only thing in the sky was a crescent moon that seemed to shine really bright. I was seconds away from passing out on Morgan’s shoulder as my attention suddenly was drawn to the fire. I should’ve know that eating so much pasta tonight would’ve led to a food induced coma.

“Awfully quiet tonight.” Morgan spoke, his shoulder moving my head up to get my attention. My eyes looked back up to the group whose eyes were all focused on me. I was fairly quiet tonight, but with the topic on hand I hadn’t needed to speak too much. I’ve had my fair shares of faking my orgasms with ex boyfriends, but it’s been a while since I last did anything sexual with anyone. Reid and I only began dating about 5 months ago, and while I was okay waiting for him, he just never seemed to be interested in doing anything like that. Besides the flirty comments, we never seemed to take it past the heated make out sessions whenever we could sneak them in.

“You’ve been staring off into space for like half the conversation.” Emily spoke, a bit of worry in her tone. “What’s up? No fun stories of boyfriends who couldn’t get you there?” She raised a brow and I gave a slow shrug. Of course I have stories, but none of them really worth mentioning.

“Oh no, I have tons.” I spoke, picking my head up off of Morgan’s shoulder. “No fun ones, though. None of my ex boyfriends have ever been able to get me close.” I spoke honestly. None of any of the guys I slept with in the past has ever been able to make me cum.

“Any stories of boy wonder over there?” Morgan teased and I shook my head.

“Not one.” I answered, hoping my answer would satisfy their need for gossip.

“Really?” Morgan looked surprised, looking back to the brown haired Doctor who was explained to the child how he did his last magic trick. “You’ve never had to fake it with him?” He scoffed. “He’s only had like one girlfriend before!” He wasn’t wrong. Spencer had expressed to me a few times about his lack of experience. Maybe that simple fact that he’s only ever had sex like maybe twice played a part in his abstinence. Maybe he just didn’t see me as someone he wanted to have sex with.

“Honestly,” I took in a deep breath as I realized that they were all staring back at me like I was the object of their affection. “We haven’t had-”

“Oh. My. God.” Garcia gasped, already knowing the end of my sentence. I rolled my eyes, as Morgan’s whole body shifted just to give me a look the read ‘are you really serious right now?’

“It’s not that big of a deal.” I shrug it off, minimizing the impact of the news. “Like you said, he’s had one girlfriend before. Maybe he’s just not ready yet.” I mention, relaxing my already tense body.

“It’s been 5 months.” Garcia adds.

"It's not that long of a time to be dating."

“You guys are around each other for almost like 24 hours a days every day of the week!” Emily scoffed. “You’re telling that you’ve never had sex with him before?” She asked and I shook my head .

“We don’t even talk about it really...”

Each of my team members remained silent, coming up with possible solutions to my ‘problem’. I could see it in there faces that they were just in shock. They all looked to each other, equally as confused and a bit uncomfortable as the next. Doubt flashed across their eyes as they all looked because me and the brown haired Doctor across the lawn.

“So...” Emily began “if you and Spencer haven’t had sex yet, when was the last time you did?” She asked, interrupting he silence.

“I don’t know like...” I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had sex with anyone. “A few years maybe?”

“A FEW YEARS?!” Garcia gasped loudly, gaining the attention of the doctor from across the field who only paid attention for a second before returning to the two boys.

“Oh my god, could you be any louder?” I laughed at her obvious dismay over my absent sex life.

“If you said anything over ‘a few years’ then yeah, I probably could be.” She nodded, still very troubled over the news.

“Look, We’re both pretty busy people outside of work and obviously weee not going to do it on the job-”

“Literally that’s a terrible excuse.” Garcia shook her head, as disappointment began to form on her face. Maybe they were right. We’ve been dating for 5 months but we’ve known each other way longer. It’s not like we were complete stranger still digging to get to know the other person.

“What’s a terrible excuse?” Spencer’s voice spoke from over my shoulder, causing me to jolt slightly. Everyone’s eyes immediately focused on him as he stood there confused and left out. I didn’t even have to give them a dirty look to tell them to keep our conversation under wraps, considering it was him we were talking about.

“Y/n was just telling us how she never read any of the Harry Potter books before.” Garcia spoke quickly, everyone nodding to agree with what she said. I cursed him out in my head as he moved around the couch and sat down next to me. I then shifted my weight from Morgan to Spencer, leaning my head on his shoulder. I tried to ignore the eyes but I couldn’t, each other them staring completely unbothered on how awkward it totally was.

“Y/n doesn’t read anything that doesn’t have hot vampires who sparkle in the sun.” Spencer commented, making my mouth drop. That’s was so untrue, I read other things too... I can’t name them off the top of my head but I know I do!

“Thats so-”

"very accurate?" he finished my sentence causinf my eyes to narrow even though i wasnt looking at him.

“Actually Spence, y/n was just telling us about a headache she had!” JJ spoke up, putting on a concern face that confused the hell out of me. When did I mention I had a headache? “She’s said her head was pulsing and it felt like her brain was throbbing?” My eyes widened and I realized what she was doing.

“Yeah,” Emily spoke, nodding her head as she picked up on the silent plan they just agreed upon. “I think she needs to get home, she might have hit her head or something earlier.” Emily frowned, as if she was really concerned for my health. They each had a look of evil on their faces which, to the blind eye, could easily be mistaken for care.

“Really? That’s does sound kind of bad, maybe we should get you to the ER? It might be a concussion...” Reid spoke, and my eyes widened even more.

“Oh no, she was check by the medics earlier! She might just have a migraine.” Morgan came quickly to my rescue. God knows what I’d have to do to talk Spencer out of taking me to the ER if he thought I was hurt or injured.

“You guys a such-” I stopped myself, watching the amusement grow on their faces as the waited for me to finish my sentence. “... such angels...” I grumbled, “always looking out for me.” I hummed, narrowing my eyes at the women on the couch across from me.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Spencer spoke, helping me stand from the couch even though I was perfectly fine.

Our fingers were intertwined as we bid farewell to our evil scheming friends. I let him lead the way back to the hous, solely so I could flick them off behind his back. Once we got close to the house, we were attacked with hugs and pleads not to leave by the touch gorgeous little boys who would just missed their uncle Spencer. After we said our goodbyes to Rossi and Hotch we headed back to his apartment. Only because I loved the smell of strong coffee and old books, and he was closer.

“You should go lay down, y/n/n. I can wake you up when it’s time to go?” He spoke sweetly, his hands on my hips as we entered his bed room. I smiled at his kindness, remembering how I promised I’d go to some late night movie with him this morning. It was showing in Russian and he was just itching to sit through 3 hours of it to translate it to me.

“I love you.” I hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, as my arm snaked around his neck in order to pull him into a hug. His movements stuttered just a bit before he returned the hug back to me.

“I love you.” He counter, squeezing me into him. “Now tell me, how many glasses have you had?” He teased.

“One.” I answered, laughing at the face he gave me when he pulled away. “Only one, I swear!” I defend myself with a smile. It wasn’t thag hard to get him to realize I was telling the truth, I wasn’t big on drinking and I’d be damned if I let myself get wine drunk.

“Y/N Y/L/N, showing affection to little old me?” He raised his eyebrows. “What did I ever do to deserve it?” He joked.

"Why wouldn’t I be affection towards my loving, sexy, intelligent, boyfriend?” I teased with a playfully frown.

"Have you met you?" He smiled from my response, his arms wrapping around me a bit tighter.

“You know... I like kissing you.” I spoke slowly, my eyes falling to his lips no matter how hard I tried to get them to stare into his sparkly green eyes which always seemed to stare right into my soul.

“I like kissing you too...” his cheeks turned pink from the compliment.

“Hugging you is pretty nice too...” I further my compliments, my voice turned sultry and smooth as I tried my best to be seductive. I never really pushed the idea of sex on him, I was too scared that he’d reject me and I’d ruin everything. Now I’m starting to think that maybe everyone was right? It’s been a long time since I had sex, and it’s probably been longer for him. And we’ve been dating for a while now... maybe now is the time? “Hugging you and kissing you is really nice.” I murmured as his lips pressed into mine once more.

“I enjoy hugging and kissing you too.” He smiled back, a bit confused but he didn’t seem to mind. His large hands moving up and down my back. Right now, in his mind I was probably just basking in him right now. In mine, I really wanted him to catch the hint that I needed him to fuck me.

Our lips pressed together again, this time sending tingles down my spine. We slowly moved back until I had Spencer on the bed, with me straddling him as our lips moved in sync. He smiled against my lips as his hands moved down to my thighs, gripping them a bit harder than usual. This was it. This was them position we ended up in every single time we made out, only this time I was hoping for somethingother than just a heated make out session. His tongue swiped at my bottom lips gaining instant access before his was in complete control.

Spencer William Red had me wrapped around his finger and didn’t even know it. It’s been 5 months, yet even before I had the privilege of being his girlfriend I would’ve done whatever he asked of me. I was and still am completely ready to be used at his disposal.

“Are you sure you’re not tired?” He mumbled against my lips, slowing the pace before things could get too heavy.

“Not at all.” I hummed, leaving one last peck on his lips. I debated on what to do for a few seconds as my eyes wondered over his beautiful face. “I- I uhm, I have a question.” My voice came out soft, and gentle which wasn’t usual. Whenever I spoke, usually it was with confidence, and had no problem talking about uncomfortable topics but this... this was a whole new world.

“What’s wrong?” I watched the content look on his face dropped into more of a frown.

“I-” my eyes got caught in his, sparkling from the dim light in his dark green painted room. “I don’t know...” I used my fingers to brush a piece of his hair before his ear. He was truly magnificent to look at, from his cheekbones to his perfect nose, everything about him was just... pretty.

“Talk to me.” He frowned further, his hands careful not to move further than where they already were.

“Do you not want to... like...” my eyes narrowed a bit watching his confusion take place. He was one of the brightest people I knew yet he was still so clueless. “...touch me?” I sounded like an insecure teenage right now, and I honestly didn’t care. This conversation could go a number of ways and I’d rather take everything right now that go another day or week or month thinking that sleeping with me was a repulsive idea to my own boyfriend.

“You- I- what?” His eyes widened, and I dropped my arms from around his neck. I would’ve gotten off of his lap, but his hands were gripping tightly on to my hips in a way that made me want to throw myself at him. “You mean like...?” Goddammit Spencer, how fucking clueless are you?

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” My face was just as soft as my tone. I could see the shock taking effect as his brain worked as quickly as it could to fully understand what was happening at the moment.

“I- uhm, I-“ he stumbled, and for a second I swore my heart broke into a thousand many pieces.

“You know... just forget it, it was a stupid question anyways-”

“No!” His voice came out strong and willful. “No I just- I wasn’t expecting that, I guess.” He explained and I nodded. “I-I- do want to... uhm... have a- sex with you, y/n.” His face was showing a variety of emotions and I’m sure mine was too. “ I just...”

“Don’t want to catch a disease?” I joked, which he apparently didn’t find very funny. I couldn’t help it though, it’s too awkward in here for my liking.

“I don’t want you-“ he stopped to think for a moment, “I don’t want you to be underwhelmed.” He explained, my mouth dropping at his confession. He was scared he wouldn’t be able to pleasure me? That’s was... horribly sweet of him. Not that I expected anything less from Spencer himself... that was just very unpredicted.

I wanted to tell him about all the past guys who never even got close to getting me off, but I don’t think that would make the situation any better. Honestly, right now, just the thought of him touching me could’ve got me off. Even if he couldn’t get me there, I’d fake it. I’d fake it really fucking good just for him because so am completely wrapped around his finger. Well, I wanted to be at least...

“I just want to be with you, Spence.” I spoke, watching the light smile form back to his lips. He was conflicted for a second before nodding his head. His light green sparkly eyes then turned dark, his pupils dilating as our faces grew closer until I could feel our breaths mixing together.

“I love you so fucking much.” He hummed, just before connecting our lips again. I felt the butterflies in my stomach going crazy as his hands moved to my face, pulling our lips together again.

He tasted like the white wine he enjoyed at dinner earlier. It was an odd choice but one I could definitely get behind, only if it was on his tongue. His signature scent of vanilla coffe and some expensive cologne swirled around in my nostrils driving me absolutely mad. My hips moved against the fabric of his pants, grinding against him releasing only a bit of tension from my own body. His hands working quickly to unbutton my jeans and blouse, exposing my black laced bra hiding underneath. I let out a tiny giggle as his back collided with the soft duvet, leaving me right on top of him, making it much easier to grind down on him.

His hands moved to my hips, guiding me right where he needed me. My hands traveled from his jaw all the way down his chest, unbuttoning what I could until I got to his belt. I gasped as my back suddenly hit the duvet, giggling again as I felt Spencer smile against my lips. Spencer struggles to carry a gun properly so, flipping us over was a very impressive move coming from him.

“Literally, just beautiful.” He mumbled on my lips before pulling away to look at me.

My cheeks burned a bright red, as I watched him study my own body. His body rested in between my legs, and his hands slowly traced over my skin. He sent me a sweet smile, and I thought of 100 jokes I could make right now but I figured it wasn’t the moment. I lift my hips as he tugged off my jeans and shirt tossing it somewhere across the room, ditching his own shirt. Now I was laying naked, waiting for him to touch me, well, everywhere. My eyes caught onto the faint six pack that’s always hidden under his own shirts, and I swear if I could I’d stare at it forever.

“Like what you see?” I teased, watching a smile spread to his lips as he rolled his eyes.

“Kinda, yeah.” He nodded, bringing his forehead down to rest on mine. His hands moved to my side, taking his heavy grip on them. My leg propped up on his side, giving him a bit more room to work.

“Kinda?” I raised an eyebrow at the reply and he shrugged. My breathing halted at the feeling of his hand playing at the band of me black panties.

“I’m sure I’d like it much better, if you had nothing on at all.” I felt my stomach go into full on cartwheel as his hand slipped under the band of my panties. His lips pressed a light kiss to my forehead, before he went down to my neck. The heat from his hand hovering above me sent the most explicit images to my head. Every time my hips bucked into his hands, his lips found a spot to suck and nip at earning light moans.

“Please Spence.” I whimper, feeling his lips curl into a smile against my neck. He pressed some more antagonizingly slow soft kisses as he made his way back to my lips. He hovered for a second before our lips were moving again, his lips muting the sounds of my moans from his finger circling around my clit.

“Shit.” He muttered against my lips, as he ran his finger up my soaked slit, teasing my entrance just enough to collect just juices on his fingers. My hips grind up into his hand, begging for more of him.

His fingers sped up as he massaged my clit, sending a deep tingle throughout my body. He pulled apart from our kiss, and I released a loud moan. His fingers already finding their way into me, curling to touched that right spot inside of me. My hands grip at the sheets and pillows as he begins to pump in and out of me. I felt the tension in my stomach tightening as he brought my closer to where I was so desperately needing to be. He left a trail of sweet kisses down my body until he reached the band of my panties.

“Oh fuck-” I moaned out, catching a glimpse of what he was doing to me in the body mirror across the room. I could see my panties pushed to the side as his fingers fucked into me faster by the minute. I could’ve came at the sight right there, but picked up on where I was looking. His head turned to the mirror watching as I squirm under he touched when he pushed into me a bit harder than before. He sent me a devious smirk before turning back to his current project. “Oh my fuck- right there Spence- god!” I moaned loudly as I felt his tongue lapping up my slick, playing with my clit as he sped the pace of his fingers. My back arched off the bed as the euphoric high of the orgasm I was about to reach shot through me.

“Cum for me, Angel.” He murmured against me, sending a vibration right to my clit. Without warning I spilled everything on his fingers. I let out another string of curses as he removed his fingers only to replace his digits with his tongue, sucking everything out of me.

“You taste even better than you look right now.” He hummed, as he sucked my juice from his fingers. I put on a lazy smile, as my arms wrapped right back around his neck. He brought his lips down to me, giving me a good taste of myself.

“So pretty damn good?” I joke, earning a tickle at my sides. “My turn?” I prepared myself to be flip over again but instead I was hold down in place by the brown haired man.

“Normally I wouldn’t object but I really want to be inside of you right now.” He commented, my eyes widened a big at his bluntness before nodding my head. He slipped off his boxers, pumping himself above me a few times. His tip grazed my clit twice earning a moan from the sensitive sensations. I could tell he was enjoying having me completely at his mercy. I was enjoying it too. “Are you Ready?” He asked and I nodded, eager to feel him inside of me.

Without another word he slid into me slowly until he bottomed out. I gasped at the stretch and sting I felt as he entered. I felt myself convulse around him, causing him to tense over me. He stayed buried in me, allowing me to adjust to his size. I had half the mind to make a joke about him being such a gentleman but I kept it to myself.

“You can move.” I he gave a nod, as he pulled out earning a light moan from my throat. For a split second a saw a flash of evil cross his eyes. There was no pretty Sparkles in his eyes, they were now fake and filled with lust as his eyes raked over me.

He slammed into me, hitting the exact spot where I needed him. He kept a fast pace, hiking my leg up to his side again hitting into me at a deeper angle. His lips attached to mine in a hungry manner, as if I was just there for his own comfort. My back was arched off the bed as I get the knot forming in my stomach threatening to come undone once more as I cried out multiple profanities in his kiss.

“Oh fuck, y/n.” He moaned out bringing me right to the edge, my walls clenching around him as he picked up the pace. I let out the loudest pornographic moan of his name as I came undone. He fucked me through the euphoria as his own thrust began to stutter.

Our breathing was heavy as he pulled out and released his load on my lower stomach. I gave him another lazy smile, seeing as I didn’t have the energy for much else. Once he as finish he collapsed on the bed next to me, pulling my body into his. I could hear his heart beat racing through his chest... or was that mine? I was sure to be 8 different types of soar in the morning, and right now I was on the verge of actually passing out.

“You’re incredible.” I breathed looking to my equally as fucked out boyfriend. His long strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, driving me slightly crazy.

“I don’t think we’re going to make that movie.” He laughed, making my smile grow.

I looked to the alarm set by the bed. “It’s only 11:30, we totally make it in time.” I spoke, remembering his excitement about this film earlier in the day.

“Yeah, but I have much better things to do actually.” He mentioned with a light shrug, brushing a few strand of hair from my own sweaty forehead.

“Like?”

“You.”

I smiled at the group of agents all hovering in the bullpen, probably talking about their weekends off. It was rare we ever got a whole weekend to ourselves, so whenever we did we made sure to take full advantage of it. I mean... I certainly did.

“Morning guys.” I smiled as is at down at my desk which Morgan for some reason thought was a chair.

“Morning sunshine!” The muscular clad man greeted me with a smile. “How waa your weekend?”

“It was really good actually.” I shrugged, noticing the expecting looks I recieved from the group. I noticed Penelope coming out from her office in the corner of my eye. She caught a quick glimpse of all of us, and her senses caught on quickly before she changes her route and made her way down with a giddy smile.

“You seem happy.” She walked up with a grin on her red painted lips. “You’re not a morning person... you never smile this early.” She stated. “Did you have sex?!” She spoke right to the point, taking me by surprise.

“I- uhm... what?”

“Yes? No? Did you at least talk to him about it?” She pushed, my cheeks turning red at the questions.

“Yeah, we did talk about the whole sex thing.” I gave in, knowing eventually they were going to find out everything on their own, either from me or Reid.

“How’d it go?” JJ asked, her and Emily catching onto the conver as the two of them moved to the front of my desk.

“Am I invited to the party this time?” Rossi spoke, as he walked down from his office, joining our group cluster.

“They talked about it!” Garcia cheered to him, and his face lit up as if her was actually proud of me.

“You did not tell Rossi!” I gasped

“Yeah we did, Hotch knows too.” Emily spoke, “now, what happened after you talked about it?!” She dismissed it, in hopes to get more information.

I sat in disbelief for a good few seconds before shaking my head. I knew they lived for the office gossip, I was the same way. Things like office gossip made us feel regular, considering the crazy and gore that came with the job. In all honestly, I hadn’t minded it all that much.

“It went well...” I shrugged

“And...?” Rossi spoke, waiting for more of the story.

“How well?” JJ asked, a smirk taking over her lips. They all stared intently as they waited for me to reply.

“I mean... we had sex.” I mumbled, just loud enough for them to hear. “...a lot”

“Seriously?!?” Garcia squealed.

“I- was it- was it good? How’d did it happen?” Emily asked, and I felt the heat rushing to my cheeks.

“Uhm...” I tried to think of less descriptive words than the ones popping into my head. “It was really good... like amazing actually.” I scoffed, laughing at the noises each of them made.

“So did you actually-”

“Yup.”

“And he’s the first person to ever make you-” I raise a brow at Morgan, putting slip finger to stop him mid sentence. He honestly looked in disbelief that Reid, of all people, could satisfy me after all these years.

“I said non of my ex boyfriends.” I clarified. I watched as Emily’s smile grew impressed, and Morgan and JJs jaws dropped at the confession. Garcia simply just squealed again, and I can’t even describe the look on Rossi’s face.

“Morning guys!” Reid walked in, a bright smile on his face chasing the rest of us to giggle at his brightness. He was usually in a good mood on mondays, but this was just a whole different type of mood. I had my ideas on why, but I didn’t have to say them out loud.

“Morning loverboy.” Morgan smiled at the new nickname. I haven’t seen him since early early this morning. We decided to part ways, mainly because anytime we looked at each other ended up in us having sex on whatever piece of furniture or appliance was nearest. Surprisingly he didn’t even mentioned a single thing about the about of germs and bacteria we could’ve spread either. Reid gave us all a wide smile before he walked up to my desk. He leaned down to height, placing a stern yet soft kiss to my lips. He usually went for the forehead or the nose, which all of us were aware of.

“How was your weekends?” He asked, looking to his friends happily.

“How was yours?” Garcia smirked, as she rest her elbow on dereks should. I felt my cheek glow hot again.

“It was... really good.”

“Oh we know.” Rossi mumbled, earning a dirty glare from me as my jaw dropped a little bit. The old man sent me a innocent smile a shrug, before Reid caught on.

“You know...” he spoke, giving me the same right lip smile he does when he really doesn’t know what to say.

“They know we had sex.” I spoke quickly, and his eyes widen a bit as he finally realized.

“Oh.” He spoke, fixing the satchel on his shoulder. Spencer was never very public with past romances, so I don’t know how he’d react to this. “I mean... I had sex with my girlfriend, what’s the big deal.” He shrugged, not seeming to mind too much. My eyes widened a bit, as I felt his arm snake around my waist pulling me into his side.

“You know what?” Rossi spoke, standing from his seat. “He’s right. He’s an adult, as are we. So stop acting like a bunch of children!” He scolded the group of adults hanging around us like a bunch of lost puppies. I smiled and nodded agreeing with the man. Reid gave him a thankful smile, before pressing another kiss to my cheek and going to his own desk.

Rossi stood in front of me as he watched the other back off, with eye rolls and huffs.

“Did you at least use protection?” Rossi teased, but for some reason thag caught my attention. Our attention. Sudden flashes from all the events that took place over these last few days flooded our minds at the exact same time. My body stiffened for a second before I grabbed the files stacked up on my desk to work from home. We hadn’t used a single condom all weekend. Everyone’s eyes were wide and I moved quickly, scrapping everything into my arms before I looked to Reid with an equally as fesrful look on his face.

“Text if you need anything.” I mumbled before practically running out of the office with Spencer close on my heels.

We were totally screwed

[purplecatdad]

Rarepair Week “Darkness”

Part of the RDR Events Rarepair Week 

Prompt: Darkness

Bill/Kieran | Teens an Up | Canon-Divergence

Content Warning for:  Child Abuse (mentioned), Internalised Homophobia, Trauma, Alcoholism, Depression, Tortue

Bill Williamson had never been a brave man. 

In fact he felt like a coward most of the time. Back when his daddy had beaten him up and he never fought back. Back when he applied to the army, simply because he was afraid that he’d end up with nothing in his life. Back when he punched and almost killed the guy who had kissed him just so people wouldn’t know he was a queer. Or when he thought that his life would end as Dutch van der Linde laughed at him because he had tried to steal from him. 

For a long while, Dutch had made Bill feel like he wasn’t all that much of a coward. He had given him purpose, a family, people to take care of. He knew that most of them, especially the other boys, would call him lazy. Often enough they had called him that right into his face and he knew that they were right. But sometimes he’d just lie awake at night, haunted by the things he did and those that had been done to him. They paralysed him and robbed him of his sleep and with the rising sun came the overwhelming sadness. Sadness that made it unable for him to do anything but to drink, like his daddy used to. To drown the memories and the pain in liquor. And every time he felt his consciousness slipping thanks to the Whiskey he was afraid again. That he’d end up like him. Beating folk who didn’t deserve it, children and women. And that was someone he never wanted to be. 

He had run with Dutch and his boys for 6 years. They had gone through both good and bad times but it had rarely been as bad as after Blackwater. They’ve lost folk and money and had been holed up in the cold for far too long. And it had all been the O’Driscoll’s fault. They’ve managed to catch one of his boys, a man named Kieran and while Bill hated his guts for being part of the rival gang he also stirred something else in him … something that made him afraid again. 

Nobody in camp knew that he preferred the company of men over women. At least not as far as Bill knew. During the years he had visited some working boys now and then. To celebrate after a good job or to let off some steam after a job gone wrong - but he had always made sure to keep it to himself. Once or twice he’d almost been caught but he had always managed to make it look that he was just another man fucking some female prostitute. 

But then, Arthur had dragged one of those damn O’Driscolls with them. A scrawny man named Kieran Duffy. Someone who belonged to the enemy. Kieran changed the game. Bill couldn’t help watching him. He was cute, even if a little jumpy at times. The horses loved him, even the Count let him close. And even if he was afraid and even if they had hurt and threatend him, he still pulled his weight and even saved Arthur’s life when there was no need to do so. 

Often, Bill would imagine what he’d do with him if he had him for himself, all on his own. Stripping him down, kissing every inch of his body, holding him close. Of course he couldn’t tell him. Of course he was afraid of something slipping. So he made sure that Kieran was afraid as well. With gelding tongs and fists and snarling at him whenever he got too close. But instead of feeling better, securer about it he just felt like shit. Because he still kept watching Kieran … and couldn’t help but notice what a good man the O’Driscoll actually was. Kind, honest, soft and gentle. Nothing like the other men in camp. Nothing like the boys he had paid before. 

His heart always started to flutter when he approached Kieran to tell him to clean up his tack or groom Brown Jack for him. Kieran always got nervous and jumpy around him and Bill couldn’t blame him for it. It was what he had tried to achieve - but had it really been what he had wanted? He had cursed himself a lot during the first few weeks. Hating himself for ruining a potential relationship, even if it was just friendship, before it had even started. 

Once they had moved to Clemens point, Bill had made a decision. He would no longer be a coward. He would try to approach him. Maybe he could show Kieran that he wasn’t always just a brute. He could be a drinking buddy. Or a friend. 

It had taken many approaches and even more beers until Kieran had finally accepted Bill‘s invitation to drink with him. Both of them eased into the conversation with the help of the alcohol, feeling more confident because of the drinks they finally managed to get to know each other. Bill always doubted himself come next morning. Wondering if it was really the right thing to do. What if he accidentally said too much? Revealed himself to Kieran only to be pushed away again? But he always came back because he enjoyed Kieran‘s company too much

Sometimes he went away just to beat some people up, to get rid of the restlessness. He knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. It didn’t fit to the “beat people who need beating” mantra of Dutch and his gang. But still he couldn’t help it. Beating them black and blue made him feel in control. He knew how to do it, he was confident when he did it. There was no doubt there, only the knowledge and assurance that he was capable of something. 

One night they had actually met outside of camp, in the Rhodes saloon. Bill had wanted to celebrate another good score with some proper food and some higher brand whiskey and had told Kieran to come along. They had eaten and drunk and enjoyed each other‘s company … and when Kieran had excused himself to pee outside, Bill had followed him. 

Thanks to the Whiskey and the good mood, Bill hadn‘t been afraid anymore. He had been brave. He had taken Kieran‘s face into his hands and kissed him, pressed against the back wall of the saloon. And to his surprise, Kieran had kissed him back. They had rented a room that night to spend it together. Hasty, deep kisses, bodies intertwined. It had left Bill speechless and tired and satisfied in a way he had never felt. 

The next morning he woke up alone. The way back to camp a walk of shame. Fear and anxiety creeping up about what to expect in camp. Had Kieran told them all about Bill? About his desires, about what he had done with him? What if he had ruined whatever they had by just acting up on his desires? If Kieran never wanted to get that far?

But when he reached the camp grounds he realized that there was no need to worry. Kieran greeted him like nothing happened as he was cleaning up after the horses and took Brown Jack from him to be unsaddled and groomed. Javier congratulated him on the „successful night with the ladies of Rhodes'' and after a few more interactions with the people in camp, Bill had realized that Kieran had simply told them that they had been busy with some working girls during the night. A story that apparently all of them believed to be true without a doubt. 

Many nights like that followed, with less and less alcohol involved. They never talked about it, never really spoke about what happened during those nights. Bill woke up alone each day. But he understood - he also didn‘t want to risk anybody finding out. It was good, what they had and someone finding out about them would most likely ruin whatever it was that they had. 

More shit went down in Rhodes, more than he could comprehend and they found each other down south at a place called Shady Belle. Bill had never liked the swamps. The air was too humid and hot for him to breathe and always made him a sweaty mess. But Kieran started sleeping closer to him at night in the new camp and he was happier about that than he had expected to be.

One night he took him out to Saint Denis. He hated the big city but it offered them some anonymity that made him feel safer than in Rhodes. They had some drinks, some delicious food and rented another room for the night. Kieran had bought them some Whiskey again and drunk it until he was swaying on his feet before he had pulled Bill to bed with him. He had kissed Bill a lot that night, clinging to him and pulling him closer. When they were done, he had cuddled up into his arms instead of turning away, whispering a soft „I love you, Bill“ that kept Bill awake for a few more hours, repeating the words in his mind, thinking about what it meant for him. What it meant for them. 

Eventually he fell asleep, cuddled up to Kieran who was snoring away peacefully next to him. Bill could pretend that this was their life. That this was how he spent every night, next to his special someone who would whisper sweet words into his ears and keep him warm at night. 

But when the next morning came, reality hit him again. Kieran had left the bed in the morning once again and left him alone. It was okay, of course and what Bill had halfway expected anyway. But when he came back to camp, Kieran wasn‘t there to greet him and to take Brown Jack from him. He wasn‘t at the scouting fire, taking care of the saddles or with the girls talking about books. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. A part of Bill, the anxious, cowardly beast, told him that Kieran had had enough. That he had left the gang, had left him behind because he didn‘t want to be with him anymore. And the other part? The other part was angry. Angry at Kieran for vanishing, angry at himself for being so stupid and even imagine anybody to actually like him. He felt heartbroken and it was his own damn fault because he was, as always, a fool. 

Another night came and went but Kieran still hadn‘t come back. Bill started to worry now. He knew that there were many dangerous people in the swamps and that Kieran, despite being in multiple gangs of outlaws, wasn‘t a good fighter or great at defending himself. So he asked people in camp if they had seen him but nobody did. Mary-Beth, who Bill rarely spoke a word with but who he knew was a good friend of Kieran‘s, also hadn‘t seen him and was equally worried. So Bill decided that he had to go and look for him. 

He asked Dutch and Arthur and Javier and even John to maybe come with him but none of them felt like Kieran was in danger. It made him angry again and when Micah snarled a “Don‘t you worry about your little girlfriend, I‘m sure he‘ll come back to you“ at him, Bill couldn‘t help but to punch in his nose and storm off on Brown Jack‘s back. If nobody was up to help him, he‘d have to find him on his own. 

It took him two days of traveling through the swamps until he finally found something. A few horses, hitched close to an old water mill… one of them a mare that he knew all to well. Branwen, Kieran‘s beloved horse that he cherished more than anything else in the world. Bill knew that he had found him - and he was certain that Kieran wasn‘t here by choice. If he was even alive anymore. 

Bill had never been a brave man. 

But he knew when it was time to fight and he was ready to risk his own life if he had to. If it meant helping the only man who he could fully trust in this world. The man who loved him. So he jumped off of Brown Jack, approached the house and kicked in the door. He started shooting without asking questions, killing everybody who was raising their guns at him. Most people thought he was a fool and mostly they were right - but he was good with his rifle and could kill multiple men within seconds. After barely a minute, nobody in the house was moving anymore. 

“Kieran?!“ he yelled out and frantically looked around. He couldn‘t see him anywhere so he walked up to the ladder, climbed down as fast as he could - and stopped in his tracks when he saw what they had done to him. 

Kieran‘s hands were tied up to the ceiling above his head, stripped down to his union suit that was smeared with blood. There were cuts all over his body, visible through the holes that they had ripped into the fabric. They had tortured him, he could see a few missing toes, one of his earlobes missing as well. Bill couldn‘t help but to stare at Kieran for a moment. This was not what he had expected. 

“Kieran …“ he said, softer this time and walked up to him. Kieran was unconscious, his head hanging down … but his chest was still rising and falling, slow but steadily. As he moved closer to him, Bill noticed that something else was missing - Kieran’s eyes had been removed, black, bloodied holes now where his eyes used to be. Bill felt his hands shaking from anger and worry but his instinct kicked in quickly. The years spent amidst the violence and struggle to keep alive against all odds had made his subconscious defy his otherwise oafish and lazy nature. He knew that he had to get out of here fast, before anybody else would come. 

He quickly untied Kieran, wrapped him in his long coat and carried him up the ladder. His mind was racing. He wasn‘t sure if Kieran would survive this, wasn‘t sure if the rest of the O‘Driscolls would wait for him outside. But he was sure that, if he brought Kieran back to camp, the O‘Driscolls might follow him there. There was no time to run without leaving a trace. And he was certain that Dutch would never forgive him if he led the enemy right back to them just because of Kieran. 

So he was the one who had to take care of him … and as he stepped out out the mill, Kieran in his arms, he realized that he wouldn‘t be able to do that at camp. Not in the way he wanted, not in the way Kieran deserved. Carefully he placed Kieran on Branwen, making sure that he was safe and secure on her back before he attached her lead to Brown Jack‘s saddle. He had to bring him to safety, somewhere in the heartlands. And maybe, if Kieran wanted, they could make themselves a home there. Far away from everything. Away from the violence and the bloodshed. 

He rode away, always looking back at Kieran who stayed unconscious, even after Bill made camp somewhere in the middle of nowhere. He didn‘t know where they were, he just hoped that this was far enough away from anybody who could be hunting them. After he set up the tent, he finally got around to cleaning up Kieran‘s wounds and bandaging his eyes as best as he could. Bill sure as hell was no doctor but trying to survive alone sure taught you one thing or two. He placed him on the bedroll and sat down next to him, staring at the campfire he made. 

He felt it again, the anxiety creeping up. The feeling of being worthless - he should‘ve been faster, better at hunting down those bastards who had hurt Kieran like this. He should‘ve told Kieran to just stay with him in that hotel room. To enjoy the morning with him as much as the night. But he hadn‘t. He hadn‘t done any of those things and now Kieran was hurt … and he wasn‘t even sure that he‘d survive. 

He felt Kieran stirr awake next to him. He looked over at him, gently touching his hand to let him know that he wasn‘t alone. 

“Kieran …“, he said softly and the other man looked around. “You‘re safe. I … Got you out. Took care of your wounds.“

Kieran stilled, taking Bill‘s hand in his, a whimper escaping him. Bill couldn‘t imagine how hard this must be for him. To wake up and not be able to see. To not know what was happening around him. 

“Can I … should I get you something? Some water? Are you hungry?“ He felt stupid again, unsure what to do. He had never been the one taking care of the wounded, he had only ever taken care of himself and fought alongside the others. This was new. 

“Please just .. lie down .. with me..“, Kieran said, his voice weak and barely audible. 

And Bill did as he asked, carefully lying down next to Kieran, putting his arms around him and pulling him close to his chest. 

“It‘s so dark …“, Kieran whispered, his voice trembling with anxiety.

“I know … I‘m sorry …“, Bill answered, his voice weavering. He‘d give his life for Kieran to see again.

“I‘m glad … that you‘re with me, though. Means I don‘t have to face the darkness all on my own.“

“You won‘t“, Bill agreed and gently caressed his back. “I won‘t ever leave you alone again.“

[bossyleo]

Beautiful Crime, (CH 1)

Summary; Kat and the trio of women rob the grocery store. Their normal lives go down the drain when they met a leader of the gang. Kat has double life's, will her past life crash her down? will she keep running like she always has to start fresh or will she stay and fight from her past life and bad blood? Along the way, she fell in love with someone who she never expected to be.

Warning: +18, gun mention, robbery.

A/N; I want to say thank to @prettygangfriend, @cacoetheswriting for helping me and editing the story. Thank to @ skamlover to help me with my OC Spanish language. This is my first fanfic I publish is here, Please let me know what you think and I’m interested in your feedback, don’t be silent readers. I worry if I hear no comment, it mean that nobody like my story. I apologize if my grammar is awful, ENJOY!!! Also, let me know if you want to be TAGGED!!

Here is the cover @atriaedits has made

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The sound of the obnoxious chewing, followed by the sound of a loud, snapping pop, is coming from the backseat, slowly driving Beth insane.

“Oh my god! I asked you to stop doing that like five minutes ago.” Beth turned her head away from the window and glared at her friend, feeling annoyed by that ridiculous sound she’s been hearing since she picked her up.

“Damn girl. You know what, fine” Kat spits out the gum and tosses it to one of the trash cans standing outside of their window. “Happy now?” She glances at Beth then opens the vanity mirror to check herself out, trying to fix her hair. Pulling two strands of her brunette hair, she adjusts her face-framing bangs. As she takes a minute to admire her shining, golden hoop earrings, they hear a screeching sound of a tire coming up behind Beth’s van.

Both of them look up, only to reveal the red, rusty car, that belonged to no other than Annie. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of Ruby sitting in the passenger seat, while Beth was already preparing her big sister speech.

“I cannot believe you,” Beth started, once Annie had parked her car. She threw her hands up in defense, trying to calm down Beth.

“Chill, sis. I’m like, two minutes late.”

The four women gather around and go up to the back of Annie’s trunk, popping it open to reveal four ski masks and four toy guns. Kat grabs the plastic guns from the gym bag, admiring the crafty work of Beth’s painting job. She has to admit, they look pretty realistic—well, realistic enough to make sure the hostages will comply.

“Wait, Annie, I think you should use the concealer to cover the tattoo,” Kat says.

“What, Nah, I’ll be fine, my shirt will cover it.” Annie reply.

“Let’s get this over with,” Ruby says, letting out a deep sigh, while Annie passes everyone their very own ski-mask. Both Beth and Annie wore a blue one, Kat went for the color black, as she wanted to make sure to match her outfit, and Ruby decided to go with a bandana instead.

Not wasting any more time, the four women walk into the ‘Fine and Frugal’ grocery store. It takes a couple of seconds before people notice their cloth covered faces, but once they do, the ladies go into action.

“Listen up!” Annie yells out, pointing her gun up into the air, “Everyone just stays cool, and nobody gets hurt!” 

The rest of the women are quick to follow Annie’s actions, and start pointing their guns around the store. People look around in both confusion and fear, but they make sure to get onto the ground. A smirk appears on Kat’s face, while watching the store manager walk up to them, his hand up in the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a robbery,” Annie said as if she announced to the customers.

           THREE WEEKS EARLIER

The ripping of a wax strip echoes through the room, followed by a loud shriek of pain coming from Beth, who’s currently finding herself on her arms and knees.

“I wonder how Kat’s doing” she wonders out loud, “Oh god, she won’t hurt Ashley, right?” 

The lady waxing Beth has a look of concern on her face, silently praying for her co-worker Ashley. “She’ll be fine, ma’am”, she reassures Beth, before continuing her work.

“I can only hope-“ before she could finish her sentence, a young brunette walks into the room. Beth turns her head to figure out what was going on, or what was important enough to interrupt her session.

“Mrs. Boland? I’m afraid your card has been declined” 

Beth couldn’t help but frown and come up with something that would explain the situation, but Kat walked in just in time, handling it. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it,” Kat tells her, sticking her hands inside the pockets of her white, comfortable robe. The woman gives her a quick nod, before walking out again.

“I’ll pay you back,” Beth says, shaking her head while looking over at Kat. “I’m sure Dean just forgot to pay a bill, he’s been really busy and distracted, lately.” 

Kat raises an eyebrow at her explanation, already knowing there’s a lot more to it than just Dean forgetting the bills. She’s always thought of him as someone who’s rather suspicious, and untrustworthy, but she wasn’t going to insult Beth’s husband to her face, so she drops it.

“Yeah, I’m sure” Kat mumbles, hoping Beth wouldn't catch the sarcastic tone in her voice, which she didn’t.

Kat feels her phone vibrating, and she lets out an annoyed sigh. The name of her boss pops up on her screen, and she couldn’t mentally curse herself for hurrying to answer it.

“Hello, sir“ she rolls her eyes at the familiar sound of her boss yelling and ordering her around on the phone. “Yes, of course- Hello?“

 “He just hung up on me!” Kat calls out, making Beth scoff loudly. “First he insults my cooking, and now this? What an asshole!” She says, and Kat nods at her in agreement while remembering that day all too well. 

Last week Kat tried to get out of a work thing by telling Mark, her boss, she already did had dinner plans to attend. She didn’t know how or why, but apparently he thought it was a great idea to invite himself. If that wasn’t bad enough already, he felt the need to tell Beth he wasn’t a big fan of her cooking. Beth was ready to defend herself, but of course, Dean told her to calm down, which ultimately led to those two pricks becoming buddies, who even started hanging out.

“The truth is, he’s just an idiot who thinks women can’t be equal to men. One day I will prove that piece of trash wrong, trust me. Kat convinces Beth while taking off her robe, revealing her work outfit as an office assistant, underneath it. 

She was wearing a cream button-down paired with a matching suede jacket. She brushed a dark curl off her shoulder, walking toward the mirror against the wall. A glance at her reflection, reapplying a dark red lipstick with a flourish. She shifted her weight. “ I got to go, Adiós “ Kat picks up her purse and leaves the room, leaving Beth to sigh heavily as she picks up her phone, calling the bank wondering why her credit card decline, she knows her husband, Dean probably forgot to pay it.  Beth thought.

Kat enters her hybrid car small with a four-door which she got a good deal from her friend, Beth’s husband, Dean. She drove to the coffee shop which is near the diner where Ruby works at. She stands in line, waiting patiently for her turn.

 Then she placed the orders, she checks her phone to see what time it.  Glad I’m on my lunch break, can’t wait to see my baby soon. Kat thought happily.  Kat grabs two medium cups and hurries to her car. The girls would be expecting her at the diner soon. She quickly drives to the meeting spot and dashes in carrying her coffee. 

The bell ding above the door as Kat enters... See Beth and Annie is already in their booth near the window. Kat smiles at them as she walks over to them, “Hola.” She pushes Annie’s legs off the seat as she sits down.

“Ooo, Coffee!” Annie was about to grab one from the tray but Kat hit her hand as she scolds her “I promised my jefe I would bring him some, so keep your hands off “ Annie glances at her,” I don’t know what you just said, but it sounds hot” Kat shake her head as she chuckles.

“Where’s the translated book I got for you? You need to read it.” Annie shakes her head and replies “I tried to but then I fell asleep.” Kat chuckles again.

“ And she was only halfway through my wax.” Beth continued the conversion she had earlier to Annie before Kat walked in. “But I offer to pay it, What happens?” Mia asks.

Beth shook her head, “I changed my mind, You need the money for your son, Mateo.” Beth answers. Kat wants to help her friend Beth but knows she is right. “Gracias”. Kat reply, showing her red lips turn into a smile. “So, What happens?” Annie asks. Beth answered, “Well, now I’m uneven.”  

Ruby walks over to her friends, places the coffee pot on the table. “I don’t even wanna know.”

“Dean maxed out their credit card at some lingerie store,” Annie explain to Ruby.

“Do you think he’s sleeping around?” Beth glance at Kat.

Annie and Kat chuckle. Ruby shakes her head and replies in a sarcastic scoff, “Don’t nobody want Dean.”  

“MmM, Sometimes I wonder why you married your first boyfriend? I heard that the first boyfriend isn’t a good keeper.” Kat said out aloud.

“What, But, Annie married Greg!” Beth says as if she defends herself.

“Look how it turned out,” Kat replied sarcastically.  They chuckled.  “Maybe it’s your anniversary present,” Annie says, trying to make her sister think the bright side but fail to.

Kat tries to hold her snort from Beth but fails. “Yeah right, Dean isn’t the type, I have a feeling like he is one of the old fashion types.” Which led Annie to join in laughing with Kat. They take a breath as soon as the laugh dies.

Beth rolls her eyes and decides to ignore Kat’s comments “He already gave me 100 coupons to Bed Bath & Beyond.”  She looked at her friends.

Ruby’s upper lips curled in disgust. “Ew. Really?”

“Son of a bitch.” Annie says bluntly, hissed.

“No, I really do love it there.” Beth smiles.

“Really? He should’ve given you a coupon to Bath & Body Work instead.” Kat takes a sip of her coffee, Ruby nods in agreement.

“No. That old guy is stealing your tip.” Annie pointed her fingertip at the old guy. The trio follows her gaze, their eyes settle on an elderly man slowly but surely walking toward the empty table, and seems like he’s struggling to walk properly. He looked around, smiling harmless when a couple passed by. 

Kat placed her hand on Annie's hand. “Girl, pointing is rude.”  Mia shakes her head. 

Ruby turns around and gives an ‘Are you kidding me’ look to Annie “He can’t even walk.”  

Annie urged Ruby “ Go get it.” She gave ‘go get it’ hand gestures which cause Ruby to sigh then she gets up on her foot and slowly walks toward the table. Her eyes widen when the elderly man was about to lean in. Ruby quickly swipes up her tip just before he even touches it.  He sent Ruby a look as he made his exit, cane in his hand, dropping the act. 

“Shady S.O.B,” Ruby said shaking her head as she sat down, her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “absolutely shady.”

“Don’t let the innocent look fool you ” Kat says as she takes a sip of her coffee.

 A smile appeared on Annie’s lips, almost proudly. “At my old job, we just got robbed all the time, So I got the six sense now.” 

Beth looked at her sister, “Are you serious?” She hopes that Annie is kidding. 

“I mean, it’s no big ideal,” Annie said as she gave a half shrug.  “ All the stores I work at eventually get hit.” 

Shaking her head, Beth met Annie’s eyes showing concern in her eyes “You could get shot.” 

“Ugh. One can hope.” Beth took a breath. 

“These guys, they don’t want to hurt anybody. They just want the money. So we let them have it. Nobody’s trying to be a hero.”

Hunching over and leaning in closer. 

“Do they get caught?” Ruby asks. Beth slowly turned to look at her friend, brow’s knitted together as she looks at Ruby questionably.

Annie let out a ridiculous scoff, “Yeah, the dumb ones do ‘cause they park in the front by the security cameras.”  Kat mutters idota, but is glad that Annie and no one got hurt. 

“You gotta put your getaway car in the back by the loading dock,” Annie shows hand gestures as if she planing out the blueprint. “And you never get dick around with the registers.” She added.  “The real money is back in the vault.” 

“You’ve really worked this out. “ Beth nods is impressed by her little sister.

Annie’s shoulder shrug “Just keeping my options open.”  Kat nods in an agreement.

“How much is in the vault? Ruby asks as if she gives a thought.

“Thirty grand, give or take.”  Annie answer. Ruby’s pupils widen open, eyebrow up raises up. Kat let out an ‘O’ shape of her mouth. Letting out a whistle like she is impressed by how much.

“Damn, I could use that money.” Ruby says as Kat nods, “perfecto count me in.” Kat reply with a grin. 

“Oh my god, me too” Annie joins in. Beth looks at them like they are crazy or serious.

“So, when do you want to do this?” Ruby glance at Annie and Kat.

 Annie replies “Well, I already bought three automatics and filed off the serial numbers so really, name a day” 

Kat pauses her lips for a moment to think which day is better. Beth looks at the three women, not sure if they are serious or not  Until Ruby’s lips turn into a Cheshire Cat grin at Beth which causes the trio  to laugh at Beth.

“You should see your face” Annie points out.

“It’s whiter than usual,”  Ruby says, Kat chuckles.

The four women entered the Fines & Frugal with their masks covering their faces and a toy gun in their hands and stopped in the center of the hallway.

"I'm gonna need you to all get on the ground," Annie says as the four women point the toy gun at the hostages. "Get your cell phones out of your pockets and keep your hands where I can see 'em," Annie says as the hostages follow the instructions. 

“All right, good. Now, I need you to get your manager up here. Annie says, but no one is moving or listening. Annie says it again but still no reply.  Annie looks at Ruby as she shrugs her shoulder like she doesn't know what to do. Ruby yell in a nice tone "Hey, where's y'all's boss at?" Still no response from the hostages. 

All of a sudden, Beth decides to act like a bad cop.  " I better get a manager up here right now or I will start capping people! I'm not even joking, mother.” Beth kicks the wooden boxes with her right leg. Causing people to be afraid of her as they gasp in fear. Causing Annie's and Ruby’s eyes to widen as if they are in shock at Beth while Kat nods and is impressed by it.

                     ONE WEEK EARLIER

 Kat enters the entry foyer inside of the Boland’s Residence with her son whose’s six years old. He smiles happily when he saw his friends, Beth’s four children in the living room, playing. He let go of his mother’s hand and run toward them. as he pulls his little backpack off as he  drops it on the floor, Joining his friends. 

Meanwhile, Kat walks into the kitchen, seeing Beth cooking dinner and Annie sipping diet coke soda "Hola," Kat puts her purse on the chair and car keys inside the purse as she sits down next to Annie. 

"How was work?" Beth asks, chopping the chicken fingers into stars. Kat sighs heavily, “he’s killing me, I swear sometimes I just want to punch him en el hosico.” 

Beth and Annie look confused at first, and then Annie says “Ooo! Asshole” Finally, Beth understands what her friend, Kat’s saying. Kat looks at Annie “it amazes me that you don’t know Spanish words, just only cuss words.” 

Annie smiles. “What can I say, I love curse words.” Annie smiles, proud of herself which causes Kat to chuckle.

“Oh, because your life is so great. I should want this life?” Annie asks, frowning

“Woah, what’s going on?” Kat asks, wondering why the sisters are arguing. 

“Lil miss perfect think’s I’m running my life.” Beth looks at Kat and back to Beth. 

“I didn’t say that,” Beth said, cutting the chicken fingers.

Annie scoffs and rolls her eyes, “Look at Kat, She’s a single mother with a gorgeous figure and a cute son. She’s living the best motherhood life.” Annie says, flattering her best friend. 

Kat chuckles, “oh honey, No I’m not. My boss who thinks women can’t be CEO, I’m still his assistant which I should’ve moved next level, but noo. Also, My son keeps asking about his father every single day.” Katsays sadly. 

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Beth replies as she put her hand on top of Kat’s hand to comfort her as Annie gave her a hug. Kat has told her friends that the father isn’t in the picture.

“And, I mean, not to pile on, look who you married. “ Annie glances at Beth.

“It’s 20 years and four children. Marriage sometimes takes little work.” Beth says, defend herself and Dean.

“Well, It depends on the sex life, and when you told me that you and Dean aren’t wild like you used to, it means something went wrong ” Kat says then Beth glare at her like she can’t believe she says to her face.

“You could lose your daughter. Has that occurred to you?” Beth ignores Kat’s comments and focus on her little sister.

“Well seeing Greg is suing me for custody and I can’t afford it, yes actually, the thought has crossed my mind.” causing Beth to stop at what she doing. Kat hugs Annie for comfort. 

“I didn’t know,” Beth says.

“Now you do,” Annie replies as she pulls away from the hug. Then Dean car dealership Boland Motor commercial appears on the tv.

Beth glimpses at the tv as she sees Amber, the seller. She heard Annie said “Jezz, who’d this chick have to blow to get on TV?” as a joke.

Beth takes another look at the blonde woman on her screen, while Kat's words linger around in her head. She has seen the lady talking to Dean before, and now that she's thinking about it, it is awfully coincidental she's gotten such an unexpected promotion.

"Kat, Can you drop the kids at Annie's neighbor, the babysitter? We'll be right back." Beth asks.

Kat reply" yeah, sure" then she gave her car key to them because she knew five children won't fit in her car so she will use Beth's van instead.

"Hijos!" Kat yells as she searches for the children then goes upstairs and finds them in one of Beth's children's bedrooms, playing and coloring, drawing on the papers. She took them in Beth's van and drove them to Annie's neighborhood so the babysitter can keep an eye on them.

An hour later, "I'm back," Kat says to sing an along tone and is about to shut the front door until she hears a familiar voice "hey!" from outside and seeing it from one of her friends, Ruby. Kat let her inside. Then close the door.

"Guess who found those caramels Bugles at Kroger?" Ruby asks, trying to find Beth and Annie, but finds them in the living room instead. Normally, the four women would sit in another room to watch The Bachelorette but instead, they are in the living room and Beth is lying on the couch while Annie tries to comfort her sister.

Kat's and Ruby's brows knitted in confusion and then Beth immediately went up to them and hugged them. They hug her back but look at Annie over Beth's shoulders confused.

'Dean's having an affair' Annie mouths to us. Kat's pupils widened as she figures it out. But Ruby doesn't understand' what' Ruby mouths back.

Annie mouths it again but a bit more forcefully. Kat whisperer in Beth that she be right back. Beth nods and lets Mia go and hug Ruby's.

"Huh" Ruby questions again. Annie sighs 'Dean is' Annie says then makes sexual gestures then Ruby finally gets it "son of a bitch" She mutters. " Oh, what can we do?" Ruby asks. She rubs Beth's back.

"How about a screwdriver?" Annie suggested. Kat came in from the garage, carrying a sledgehammer over her shoulder.

Beth sees Kat over Ruby's shoulder and an idea pops in her mind, as she replies "a sledgehammer." Annie and Ruby glance at each other's confusion while Kat's lip turns into a smirk.

Shattering, Beth swings the sledgehammer and hits Dean's computer in his office. Beth hit his trophies and then the file cabinets as she yanks the files and throws them on the ground, the paper flying in the air. Continuing hitting the other file cabinets. While Annie and Ruby, Mia stand in the doorway of Dean's study office, watching Beth take her anger on the cheating husband's things and destroy them. "Are you planning on stopping this?" Ruby asks, "Hell no," Kat says as she's recording what Beth is doing on her phone.

Ruby glance at her friend, Kat. "What are you doing?"

Kat grins, "Dean shouldn't mess with Beth, I might post it on YouTube."

"Don't do that, her kids might see it." Ruby scold her. Kat rolls her eyes dramatically, and replies, "fine but I'm still keeping the video."

"Send it to me," Annie says. Kat nods and sends the video to Annie's phone. Ruby scoffs.

Kat says goodbye to the girls because she has to pick up her son and then head home. She picks up her son and drove to her apartment she shares with Mateo. She fed him dinner and gave him a bath before bedtime.

Kat tucks her son, Mateo in his bed at home. "Good night Mi Amor" Kat pecks his little forehead, "Noches Mami " He rubs his little eyes with his thumb. She sighs heavily, feeling angry at Dean and feeling bad toward her friend Beth. She doesn't deserve this at all. Kat thought.

Meanwhile, Beth sat in the dining room, waiting for her cheating husband to get home. Drinking her vodka out from the bottle. She remembers the conversation she has with Mia and wondering if she'd make a mistake to decline Kat's offer.

“Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” Kat asks, 

“Yes,” Beth responded.

“What if I break his nose a little?” Kat suggests. Beth gives her ‘no’ expression look.

"Are you SURE I can't punch him in the face?" Kat asks.

Spanish translate (Correct me If I’m wrong)

jefe- My Boss

En el hosico - On the snout

Mi Amor - My love  

noches mamá- Night Mama

[white-chalk-sapphomet]

I was wanting to go for a skilled trade (plumber or electrician) but I've been discouraged from like, all sides bc "being trans and trade workers don't mix" 😒 do you have to face a lot of bullshit?

Honestly, it just depends! When I first started out, I was prepared to keep my head down and follow the 'don't ask don't tell' procedure, but when I was delivering my referral from the union to the counselor at my electric company, she was talking about how some guy in the company would look cute in makeup or drag. So out of curiosity, I basically asked if she thought I'd have any issues as a trans woman, or if I'd have an easier time being closeted.

And she started talking to me about one of their older apprentices named Joel. She said he was one of the best hardworking apprentices they had, and for the longest time she never even put together that he was a trans man. He started experiencing some kind of health problems and just stopped coming in one day, but he's still missed and thought well of.

At my school on my first day, I DMed my training instructor and basically asked him "hey, I know you were talking about feeling dignified and respected regardless of background stuff earlier, but do you think I would get harassed to the point of interfering with my studies if I'm out as a trans woman here?" And during break, he pulled me aside to a spare room and said it was up to me and what I was most comfortable doing.

He said that unfortunately there are still quite a handful of shitheads in the industry. But that if anybody in the school ever made that my problem, that he would make it their problem and remove them from the program. He mentioned one trans guy student who was there some years before who had relatively no issues with harassment. And a different student who got homophibic slurs yelled at him. The guy responsible for harassment was promptly kicked out, but the student being defended felt traumatized enough that they wanted to drop out.

And he shared an anecdote about the employee who was helping their family purchase a new vehicle. One day they came in to be helped, and the representatives new name was Cindy.

I would say in these situations, I'm very fortunate that I'm not the very first trans person a lot of these people have met. But in any industry or anywhere I go, I do have to tend to act as though I am gonna be the first point of contact people make with a trans person and inform their impressions about other trans people whether I like it or not.

For me that unfortunately usually means I can't be too sensitive. As long as my dead name isn't used, I put up with wrong pronouns until I'm positive I've earned everybody's respect. Sometimes they'll ask questions about trans stuff and I do my best to explain a concept or dynamic to them. There is unfortunately still a lot of shop talk between men, but I've had to bite my tongue about some things until I have more equal footing.

I haven't felt too inclined to wear makeup to the construction site, but I'll probably wear it to the company Christmas party or out with other coworkers. I work a strong work ethic and learn as much as I can, and they appreciate having me on the team. At the end of the day, they've agreed that I'm one of them and they'll take care of me/have my back and won't let anybody start shit with me either. If I ever did have any issues, I would be able to take it up with HR, or find work elsewhere through the union without too much trouble. Within the IBEW is also the Electrical Workers Minority Caucus (EWMC) which is meant to help provide resources/organize for women, racial minorities, and lgbt workers within the industry.

So I'd like to say that each time we can make a good impression on somebody, these industries do become more inviting to others like us. I would say that regionally things may be different from one place to another. With my city, I wasn't sure what to expect, so I've always been proceeding with caution. But in the trades, hard work/caring about your job really does go a long long way.

[random-thought-depository]

It occurs to me that one relatively sympathetic aspect of these people might be that, their founding population having been abducted as small children and raised by an inhuman monster, they might lack a lot of the stupid prejudices that regular humans in a low-tech setting are likely to have if real history is any guide.

Think about what’s going to happen with that first generation. It sounds to me like the dragon abducts them when they’re very young, the better to brainwash them. The dragon is probably both ignorant of and uninterested in a lot of human culture, it just wants to raise up some dragon-worshipping brainwashed thralls. Which is probably going to be bad in a lot of ways, but it also means the transmission chains of a lot of stupid prejudices get broken. There’s no-one around to tell those kids that darker-skinned people are inferior. There’s no-one around to stigmatize left-handedness and force the left-handed ones to hide being left-handed. There’s no-one around to socialize them into complicated and rigid gender roles and tell them men should be in charge. There’s no-one around to tell them they shouldn’t share a washing bowl with a Cagot. There’s no-one around to tell them some people are Untouchables and karmically deserving of low status and suffering and you should take a ritual bath if one of them touches you. The dragon probably doesn’t even know about half that stuff and doesn’t care about most of the other half. The dragon might actually actively discourage a lot of prejudices like this if they do show up, because they’d interfere with its human stock being efficient thralls (“You’re telling me you want to reduce the military effectiveness and productivity of my dragon cult because you don’t want to share tools with people who have a particular surname? Yeah, no, we’re not doing that; any tool that is not personal property belongs to me and will be used by any of my thralls who is doing work that requires it”).

What happens when these kids reach puberty? The dragon probably wants its dragon cult making babies, so it’s probably going to tell them how baby-making works and make it clear it expects them to make some new thralls for it sooner or later, but as long as the thralls are making approximately the right number of babies and aren’t killing each other it probably won’t care much about the details. So... These people are going to start experiencing attraction to each other and sometimes falling in love with each other, and... Some of them are going to fall in love with people of the same sex, and there’s no-one around to tell them homosexuality is wrong. Some of them are going to fall in love with more than one person, and there’s no-one around to tell them they aren’t allowed to have multiple partners, and there’s no-one around to tell them that people who already have a partner are “taken” and off-limits, and there’s no-one around to tell them that if you’re a man another man having sex with your female partner is a huge deadly insult to your honor. The original write-up talks about dragons selectively breeding their human thralls, so there might be significant reproductive control and coercion happening, but it’s probably pretty orthogonal to the sort that happens in patriarchal societies.

This is simplifying in ways that might paint an over-optimistic picture. Even small children may have picked up some prejudices from the societies they spent their first years in. And some of that stuff might get reinvented. Children often detect and react with hostility to difference even without much or any prompting from adults, and I suspect some prejudices of this sort are ultimately rooted in that sort of reflexive xenophobia. And I think at least a rough “men do more of the fighting and heavy labor, women do more of the child-care and less strength-intensive work” division of labor is probably going to emerge, because it’s a natural and logical reaction to physical sex differences in a low-tech context. Though on that note, I can think of a few factors that might work to keep dragon cults more gender-equal than regular human societies:

Dragons likely won’t want their cults getting too numerous. A numerous cult would be harder to control and more likely to develop power centers independent of the dragon. Dragon cults would also be more secure against external threats than other human groups of their size, because they’ve got a giant fire-breathing monster on their side, so they wouldn’t have as much pressure to make sure they’ve got lots of fighters to defend their land (though the dragon would likely be a “tall poppy,” it’s likely that lots of people will want to kill it to stop its depredations and plunder its hoard and have the glory of defeating it, so that’ll partly cancel that out). Put this together, dragon cults might be at least a little less pro-natalist than their regular human neighbors. I mean, they’ll probably still have big families by modern standards because of how many people die young in low-tech societies, they’ll probably still need to have 3-5 children per couple just for replacement rate, but this might make at least a little difference. And high birth rates, large families, and pro-natalism are an important load-bearing pillar of strong gender roles; it’s not an accident that we started treating women a lot better after we invented or popularized vaccination, antibiotics, indoor plumbing, and birth control pills (the first three things made high birth rates unnecessary and even undesirable, the last thing made low birth rates easier to maintain). Compared to other human women, dragon cult women might have more time and energy to devote to things that aren’t making and raising babies.

I think dragon cults are also likely to be socially hierarchical but economically communalistic, with little private property and relatively high social mobility. From the original write-up it sounds like dragons want totalitarian control over their cults, so they won’t want their cults to have power centers independent of the dragon. Dynastic families and sizeable accumulations of private property are power centers independent of the dragon, so the dragon will discourage their formation. In low-tech male privilege societies powerful families and stable inherited property are major bulwarks of patriarchy; they make it important who your father is, and they make it important to avoid family instability that may result in division of the property or otherwise endanger the family’s claim to the property. If patrilineal descent chains don’t matter much, women are likely to have more sexual freedom and by knock-on effects of that more freedom in general and are under less pressure to marry early and produce lots of potential heirs for their husbands.

Finally, the write-up mentioned dragons selectively breeding their human thralls for size and strength, and maybe implied also selectively breeding them for precocious physical maturity. If they’re doing that, dragons might also selectively breed their thralls for reduced sexual dimorphism. From the dragon’s point of view, why wouldn’t you want to double your pool of potential strong fighters? So after two or twenty centuries of selective breeding dragon cult women might have size and upper body strength a lot closer to males. Dragon cults would probably still have some kind of “men do more of the fighting and women do more of the work compatible with having a baby or child in close proximity” gendered division of labor, but reducing sexual dimorphism would tend to weaken gendered divisions of labor and hence gender roles in general.

I mean, we’re talking about a creepy high-control cult here. And “nobody was there to tell them...” would definitely have potential dark sides, like “nobody was there to tell them rape and incest are wrong” and “nobody was there to tell them that an adult shouldn’t casually slap around or beat up a child when they’re angry at them.” They’d probably develop some taboos on that sort of stuff just to keep their society somewhat functional, and the dragon would probably give them rules against the aspects of that sort of behavior that might lower their efficiency as thralls or endanger the viability of the dragon cult, but “basically functional levels of rape, incest, and casual physical abuse of children” might look pretty horrifying (though given what a lot of actual historical societies looked like I’m not sure they’d really be worse on the rape and casually beating up their children fronts than their non-dragon cult neighbors). So this isn’t going to be any kind of utopia. If dragon cultists showed up in a story they’d probably be bad guys. But, like:

“And because they serve dragons, they sometimes get the good stuff. Picture a 15- year-old kid with the physique of Conan, wearing the golden armor of ancient kings and armed with magic spears. The kid is also illiterate, covered in fleas, and thinks that humans were created by dragons.”

I suggest that this kid might be a girl, who has a girlfriend and a boyfriend, in a world where a female person being a warrior and interacting on a footing of easy familiarity and equality with rough violent men and having multiple partners is very much not a regular thing in most human societies. And while from one point of view this person is a brainwashed slave of a giant fire-breathing mammal-like reptile, she can look forward to having a lot more personal freedom than most non-dragon cult women (e.g. the 15 year old farmer’s daughter whose father and older brother she just eviscerated). Would fit into: “And its not hard fascism either.  Their barbarian tribes don't chafe at the collar.  They've believe in their dragon.  And when you stand in front of a dragon, you can see why.” If that girl has some idea of how much less freedom and power she’d probably have if she’d been born into one of the surrounding more normal human societies, that knowledge surely cements her loyalty to her dragon. It’d make the whole thing more insidious in a way.

-----

Aside: the one thing that kind of bugged me about the Goblin Punch post is where it says dragon cultists “never build cities or roofs.” So what do they do when it rains, or is freezing cold, or burning hot? I’m interpreting this as they live in tent-like structures and don’t build permanent houses with thick walls, cause otherwise that bit is just grimderp.

[akaashism]

Jealous Merthur hc’s?

I actually don't have that many jealous Merthur HCs but I definitely have some clear ideas about how these two idiots would behave when consumed by jealousy lmao

- Merlin is extremely passive-aggressive. He'll lash out with sassy comments under his breath while acting like he's totally fine on the outside.

Merlin: So, when's the wedding, Arthur?

Arthur: *confused* What?

Merlin: *smiling sweetly* Your wedding? With Lady Anne? You two seemed so enamoured by each other in the corridor just now. I just wanted to offer my congratulations.

Arthur: I was showing her to her room, Merlin

Merlin: *under his breath* Showing or trying to get in it with her?

Arthur: What?

Merlin: What?

- Arthur is the more sulky one who sits around stewing like a spoiled brat, waiting for the object of his affections to notice that he's being quiet and there's something wrong™. Jealous Arthur, like regular Arthur, is an attention and validation whore who then acts like he didn't want it in the first place when he finally gets it.

Merlin: You're surprisingly quiet today

Arthur: Finally noticed, have you? I've only been waiting for 2 hours while you swapped riveting stories with Lancelot

Merlin: We were... planning his proposal to Gwen

Arthur: Whatever. It's not like I care what you were doing anyway.

- Merlin is more creative in expressing his jealousy like he'll see some random noble ogling Arthur and be like, "Oh, I'm sorry, are the treaty terms written on the king's face, Lord Rowan? No no, it's a genuine question. Considering how hard you're staring at it, I wondered if there was something I was missing." Of course he says it in such a threatening manner that nobody dares look at Arthur for the next two days.

- On the other hand, Arthur doesn't have patience for subleties and goes straight for the kill with a "No offence and all but kindly fuck out of here before I banish you from the kingdom for breathing wrong in my Court Sorcerer's direction" which is equally effective, to be fair.

- If aggravated enough, Merlin is inclined to use his magic to foil the plots of love struck knights in training or embarrass Arthur if he's being particularly thick with a princess who's obviously trying to woo him. Merlin can always be seen wearing a smug smile later because his methods always work without fail.

- Arthur, on the other hand, has thrown his gauntlet at one too many men (and even women in some mortifying incidents) in ridiculous attempts to defend Merlin's honour while Merlin rolls his eyes in the background and promises the unsuspecting victim that he'll talk Arthur out of it later, there's really no need to worry.

- Now their reactions when they find out the other is jealous:

- Since we've already established that he's an attention whore, Arthur fucking revels in the fact that Merlin is jealous and teases him mercilessly about it while secretly feeling super soft and in love and validated (but he was never taught to express those feelings, so let's move on from that, yikes). Merlin understands Arthur's underlying emotions ofc but still threatens to turn him into a toad if he keeps this shit up. Arthur can be seen wearing a stupid grin the whole day after that and Merlin briefly considers breaking up with him just to get that smug look off his face.

- Merlin can be a little shit about it sometimes but mosly he's just flattered and emotional, like "me??? You're jealous over me?? I'm nothing but a lowly peasant" while being super annoyed in the same breath like, "Is that what all that drama was about earlier? You were jealous? I've almost died for you on several occasions and we share a damn destiny, you prick. Get out of my sight."

- Eventually they'll show each other just how much they care for the other while trying to act cool (and failing miserably) and maintaining very gay, very intense eye-contact for several minutes.

- The poor citizens of Camelot who happen to witness it will be simultaneously endeared and sickened by the two.

- The end.

[shymeg]

Why focus on the bitch part of that voicemail so much when him calling her a horrible fake person and saying he should have seen that she is a horrible person seven years ago is probably the reason she was angry and hurt? You keep saying Betty is mad because he called her a bitch. No I don't think so. And more than likely being called a horrible person hurt more especially since Betty already had insecurities about this since s2. You don't recall these scenes in s2?

I kind of answered this somewhere else. I'll answer it again though.

I said she could be hurt for being called a horrible person. Yet wasn't she kind of being precisely that? Even in season 2? Didn't she use his insecurity to break up with him? When she covered up the kiss with Archie and kind of told him it was due to his insecurity! Do you remember that? So if it's been repressed because those two have gone through so much. He has a right to feel that way. Just like she has every right to feel hurt by it.

Does it mean Jughead, in his anger, was thinking what is Betty going to think? Probably not. He put himself and his emotions first. You can tell he regrets it. Good for him for owning that; it could be hurtful. Cheating is horrible. Awful.

I keep bringing up bitch simply because some women don't approve of being called that by men or other women. Her being called horrible, which she kind of was for doing what she did. Plus, fake because he might not have known who she really was if she could just lie straight to his face the way she did. Yes, they hurt, but in his anger, was he wrong? Is he? Plus, he was drunk and hurting. Clearly, so she wasn't the only one hurt.

So anon, it's not necessarily bitch it's a fact people were saying women shouldn't be called that. Women can be called horrible and fake. True it can hurt, but the truth hurts sometimes.

If Betty was so hurt by this Voice Mail the first day back, Jug gave her in to discuss it. She hasn't. Instead, she showed his boss and ex-girlfriend. She might have been high, but is she going to apologize for that? One up because Jessica baited her? Is she going to finally tell Jug he hurt her feelings? Maybe she understands why he left it after being drunk when she showed it to people after being high, and Jug wasn't even there to defend himself. He also helped her with her case and she with the missing kid. It could have gotten brought up again it didn't. They were sitting by each other at the concert. She kind of defended him to Josie but not really. I think in her own way, she realizes her and Jug need to talk, and the VM is just her reasoning for not getting too close. Maybe in her own way, because she's not ready yet, after all, we saw her tie some guy to a tree and now the last one in the school. Plus, if the VM hurt her so badly, why did she jump into bed with Archie, her best friend's ex, knowing Jug was staying there? To get back at him? To feed off his insecurity some more so it might be over before it's done if she got caught? Instead of just talking and being honest about it?

Also, it is the writer's fault. They tried to make them appear on equal ground by having Jughead leave that voice mail. I get why Betty's hurt but I also understand why Jughead did what he did. Especially if he was drunk, hurting verbal diarrhea. I think even Betty herself has been there. So why hold Jug to a higher standard? Why hold herself?

[oumakokichi]

What's your opinion on Kaito and Maki! I don't know if anyone's ever asked this before (sorry if yes) Ur blog is epic btw!

This question is pretty recent, so I feel like this is a great one to kick off with getting back into writing full meta! I know in the past I’ve answered a few brief questions on how I feel about Momota and Maki respectively, as well as their relationship in-game, but I don’t know if I’ve ever written at length about the two of them.

I also don’t know whether you want my opinions on them both as individual characters or their relationship together, so I’ll probably touch on both aspects! This ask will obviously include spoilers for the whole game, so I’ll talk more under the cut!

Momota and Maki are definitely two of the most important characters in the game. Both their dynamic with each other, as well as their eventual friendship with Saihara, are pivotal plot points that come up again and again. Momota’s good intentions and attempts to help Maki come out of her shell and self-imposed isolation from everyone else are initially met by her with skepticism, distrust, and a feeling that he’s being incredibly overbearing and putting his nose where it doesn’t belong—but in the end, she does find herself pulled in by his unrelenting optimism and offers of friendship.

As Momota helps Saihara begin to overcome his anxiety and self-doubt by pushing him forward and reaffirming that he believes in him, Maki also begins to face some of her own demons. Like Saihara, her issues are rooted in deep-seated trauma from a young age, though hers is considerably more severe as it concerns both physical and mental child abuse, as well as a life filled with violence and murder.

It’s interesting, because both Saihara and Maki struggle with what I would call self-loathing, but go about showing it in completely different ways. They both doubt their own ability to do anything right and feel that they’ll only hurt people in the end, but where Saihara overcompensates for this by trying to please everyone and being afraid of saying no, Maki’s approach is much firmer: she tries to shut everyone out completely, keeping everyone at arm’s bay in order to prevent any attachments from forming in the first place. As someone who lost pretty much everything at such a young age, she’s clearly afraid of the same thing happening all over again, as well as wary of anyone who might try to get close to her, only to attempt to “take her out” in the same fashion that she’s had to kill people her entire life.

Momota’s persistence in striking up a friendship with her is therefore really, really interesting. It’s the first time in Maki’s life that anyone has ever been so adamant about wanting to get to know her. Considering how harsh and unfriendly she initially is, as well as the fact that her talent is revealed to everyone by the end of chapter 2, it would make complete sense if Momota wanted nothing to do with her, in her opinion. She’s used to being alone, and she’s already convinced herself by that point that it’s preferable to the alternative.

But Momota is a character who fundamentally refuses to take no for an answer. This is simultaneously both his best and worst trait, in my opinion: it’s literally right in his catch phrase, whenever he claims that he’s going to reach the stars someday. He runs purely on the idea of faith and belief. There’s no middle ground with him: either you trust someone implicitly, regardless of everything stacked against them, or you don’t. Shades of grey, especially at the beginning of the game, are virtually nil. It’s a very “shounen protagonist” sentiment that winds up being somewhat challenged for him as the game goes on.

He’s interested in Maki, and wants to know why she closes herself off in her research lab. When the finger is pointed at her in chapter 2 and she falls under suspicion of murdering Hoshi, he defends her even at the expense of making himself look worse, and even to the point of claiming that he would “bet everyone else’s lives” that she’s innocent (a line which was completely omitted in the localization and dub, but which you can still hear him say in the jp dialogue of the chapter 2 trial).

There’s absolutely no evidence to back Maki up or support her; Momota’s defense on her behalf stems more from the fact that he hates Ouma’s equally black-or-white “guilty until proven innocent” approach, and resents the attempts at mutual suspicion and paranoia that Ouma tries to force between them. Momota is, in a word, stubborn. He figures things out by “feel” or “intuition” and is extremely slow to change his opinions even when facts and evidence are presented before him.

Again, this can be a good trait: his loyalty means he’s the last person who would ever throw someone else under the bus, and it’s the main reason he succeeds in getting closer to someone as emotionally closed-off as Maki at all. It’s less of a good thing, however, in later chapters like chapter 4, where his stubborn refusal to look at the facts genuinely endangers everyone’s lives in the trial and results in a huge blow-out that threatens his friend group with Saihara especially, but really with the whole training trio.

It’s this stubbornness of his that really baffles Maki. Initially, she doesn’t know what to make of Momota’s attempts to befriend her. She assumes he must be reckless, or stupid, or both, to want to get close to someone as dangerous as she is. But as she gradually begins to let her walls down and starts opening up despite herself, it’s such a nice change to see her eventually starting to believe in herself and view herself more positively as a result of Momota’s own belief in her.

I think momoharu as a ship works really well and has potential specifically because of these themes of “self-love” and “believing in yourself” that come up in the main game’s narrative again and again. And unlike the dynamics between Momota and other characters, such as Saihara, I feel like Momota and Maki are on much more of an even footing, where the two of them can view each other as equals and aren’t afraid to challenge each other whenever one of them is in the wrong about something.

For example, Saihara and Momota have much more of an imbalanced, sometimes one-sided friendship. That’s not to say that they aren’t both extremely important friends to one another—but between Saihara’s inability to say no to people and Momota’s tendency to take charge and view himself as “the hero” while everyone else is his “sidekick,” their relationship becomes incredibly uneven very quickly.

Add to this Momota’s unspoken jealousy of Saihara’s talent and his pivotal importance to the rest of the group in trials, and it gets even messier. I’m reminded of the chapter 4 trial, when Saihara really goes against Momota’s opinion on something for the first time by proving that Gonta is the culprit, and Momota is livid. Even when all the proof is laid out before him, and even when he knows, logically, he feels so betrayed by Saihara’s lack of “belief” in him that his underlying jealousy bubbles up and he lashes out. The localization considerably dulled the impact of this, but in the original Japanese dialogue, Momota even stops referring to Saihara by his first name for a long time, referring to him much more coldly by his surname from the end of chapter 4 until the latter half of chapter 5.

Momota and Saihara never feel as though they’ve really escaped that “hero and sidekick” dynamic until the very end of chapter 5 when they say their farewells, and even then there’s a real hesitance with Saihara to call Momota out when he’s wrong or ask for an apology even when Momota owes him one. If the game had explored more of Momota’s jealousy and feelings of inadequacy compared to Saihara, I would have really loved that, and I feel like there would be real potential to explore how they could eventually be on even footing… but as it stands, in canon we don’t really get that, and most of Momota’s shortcomings and flaws are somewhat brushed aside after his death in favor of Saihara remembering him more fondly.

This isn’t to say that Momota doesn’t have any flaws when it comes to how he interacts with Maki, of course. His character has a lot of “toxic masculinity” baggage, including unironically believing really outdated things like “women shouldn’t be fighting, they should be raising children,” or thinking that women are inherently weaker physically and more fragile emotionally than men. Luckily though, Maki often consistently proves him wrong on all of these points: her ability to wipe the floor with him during their training sessions is of course part of it, but it’s worth noting that she’s also considerably more level-headed than Momota is in many ways.

Where Momota is superstitious and afraid of the occult to a comedic degree, Maki remains the rational, down-to-earth one who doesn’t believe in such things. Where Momota is prone to letting his pride and temper get the better of him and refuses to speak to Saihara or apologize for the things he said during their fight in chapter 4, Maki is the one who attempts to push them into interacting with each other again, and believes that Momota is being much too childish about the whole ordeal. Again and again, Maki proves Momota’s outdated and harmful stereotypes about women wrong, and isn’t afraid to poke fun at him or get exasperated with his bullshit whenever he’s being kind of a dick.

Her relationship with Momota works specifically because of how much it feels like the two of them are on a more even footing. Where Saihara somewhat meekly accepts the “sidekick” role, even when he thinks it’s unfair, Maki doesn’t really accept it or go along with it in the first place, beyond showing up for training sessions. And when she gradually begins to develop romantic feelings for him, it feels authentic—particularly because it ties back into the idea of Maki learning to believe in herself the same way that Momota has believed in her from the start.

Deep down, Maki is someone who fundamentally believes herself not only undeserving of, but borderline incapable of love. She feels as though any human emotions she might have once had were stomped out of her from a young age and that absolutely nothing remains, to the point where she says “even Kiibo is more human than she is.” This self-loathing and dehumanization are the main reasons she keeps people at arm’s length: she simply thinks she doesn’t deserve any kindness, and that even if it’s given to her, she doesn’t know how to reciprocate in turn.

Her entire character arc is about unlearning this, and gradually coming to accept that she does have the capacity to love, including love for herself and for others. I’ve seen some people who believe Tsumugi when she claims in the chapter 6 trial that she “gave Maki those feelings for Momota” for the sake of the show, but I feel that believing that at face value really doesn’t do justice to Maki’s autonomy as a character.

Even if Tsumugi somehow did insert those feelings there (which I highly doubt, especially considering how she blatantly lies about giving Momota his illness too despite pretty obviously not knowing he was sick prior to chapter 5), the whole point of Maki’s confession to Momota in chapter 5 and reaffirmation of those feelings in chapter 6 is that she eventually comes to believe that they’re her feelings, and no one else’s. As someone who was denied any free will or choice for her entire life, her coming to view Momota as someone precious to her, as well as herself as an individual capable of making decisions and loving other people, is an incredibly powerful arc of character growth. I honestly really love to see it.

And it’s clear that Maki coming to love and value herself as an individual is exactly what Momota wanted to see from her. We don’t really know if he reciprocated her romantic feelings or not since he dies without really giving her an answer. I personally think he spared her an answer because even if he had said he reciprocated, it only would’ve hurt her worse to see him die immediately afterward.

But what he does make really clear is that he fully believes that because she could come to love him, she could also eventually come to love herself. Whether it’s romantic or not, he clearly cherishes her a lot as a person and wants her to be happy. He wants her to live on as herself, and not any of the roles she’s had to take thus far in order to survive. She eventually does do this, and I think he would’ve been absolutely thrilled to see it happen.

All in all, I feel like momoharu has a lot of potential for character growth (both for Maki and Momota), as well as for cute moments, comic relief, and all around as a feel-good ship. Momota definitely has some issues to work out with misogyny and toxic masculinity, and while it’s certainly not Maki’s job to hold his hand and walk him through those things, she’s the type of person who doesn’t mind putting her foot down and telling him no when she feels like he’s crossed a line, which is exactly the type of dynamic I like to see in relationships.

Anyway, I’ll wind this up here. This was a really fun question to go into, thank you again anon! I had a lot of fun getting back into the swing of writing meta, and I’m glad I got a chance to write a little more about my thoughts on momoharu, and Momota and Maki as characters.

[jessbakescakes]

Anonymous asked for: Josh/Donna - Griffin McElroy’s “exits” speech from The Adventure Zone.

Taking prompts from this post, this post, or this post!

“When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy.” - Griffin McElroy, The Adventure Zone

Josh was used to people leaving his life. It seemed like an inevitability. He’d come to realize that he spent an inordinate amount of time preparing himself for the eventual departure of everyone important to him. At least, that’s what Stanley said. Stanley’s usually right.

Sometimes, he knew it was coming. Law school didn’t come with “See you next year, have a great summer” scrawled in yearbooks, after all. 

Then there were the failed relationships. He tried to date women who weren’t in politics, but he found himself having to “defend” his “inattentiveness” - when in reality, he himself felt unsupported, misunderstood, or generally lonely. And his time with the women who he met in his line of work usually ended badly, too. There was a distinct possibility that he was just bad at this, bad at relationships. But the more he tried to fix it, the less he understood what he was doing wrong in the first place. 

Of course, everyone knew about Joanie. About his dad. About Leo. Talk about abrupt and unfair departures.

The walls he built were impenetrable, an adamantine fortress to protect himself from the vulnerabilities of being human. He didn’t mind being vulnerable; he minded being vulnerable with nothing to show for it. So he just… stopped letting people in at some point.

The only person to ever come close to tearing down those walls was Donna.

Donna, with a metaphorical hammer and chisel, chipping slowly away at the barriers he’d spent all this time reinforcing. Donna, with her persistence and her selflessness, with her bright smile and her laugh and the way she would look at him for just a second too long, her eyes saying the words her lips couldn’t. Donna, who changed the bandages on his incision after Rosslyn. Donna, who used to sit by his bed to make sure he was still breathing some nights (he knew, even if he never told her he did). Donna, who brought him back from the edge of a breakdown more than once. 

But she left him, too. Almost for good in Gaza, then in Germany. Then she came back to work, quit her job, and she left him, over and over again. Or at least every time they walked away from each other, passing by one another on the campaign trail, it felt like she left him again. Watching her walk away without knowing when or if he’d ever see her again was a specific kind of torture.

He knows it’s not her fault. He doesn’t really hold it against her. He does blame himself sometimes, for not giving her more opportunities, for not being there for her after Gaza, for everything. 

And there’s nothing he wants more than to keep her from leaving him again. He just doesn’t know how to do that. So here they are, in Hawaii, Josh lying awake and hoping that Donna will grasp just how much he wants to make this work. 

“Josh,” Donna murmurs.

“Yeah?”

“You’re tossing and turning.”

“Sorry,” he says. “Just thinking. Got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

Donna turns over. “About what? Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Nah. It can wait. It’s nothing, really.”

“You sure? If it’s keeping you up, I don’t think it’s ‘nothing’. Talk to me.”

He lets the silence linger for a few moments, wondering how to put the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach into words. Josh has spent a decent part of their first day in Hawaii in his own head. Donna noticed, so she made it clear that she wants to hear what goes on in his head -- the good, the bad, the ugly, and everything in between -- but old habits die hard, and it’s going to take Josh some time to get used to sharing what’s on his mind in a way that effectively communicates what he needs and wants. 

“I don’t want to sound… ugh, I don’t know.” He doesn’t know how to finish that sentence.

“Open? Emotionally vulnerable?” Donna teases. 

“I was gonna say ‘needy’, but, point taken.” He takes a deep breath. “Sometimes I wonder if you’ll get sick of me.”

“What do you mean?”

Josh rests on his elbow and turns to face her. “I’m not great at this sort of stuff, Donna. That’s why I… did this. Brought you here, at least partly. I wanted to show that I’m in this. I know you gave us a timeframe to… figure things out, and I want to figure it out. I just don’t want you to leave before I get it together.”

Donna doesn’t say anything. She leans up on her arm and turns on the bedside lamp, looking him in the eye as he talks. He searches her face for some sort of hint as to how she’s taking this. She doesn’t look angry, by any stretch - if anything, she looks somewhat sympathetic, but he can’t be sure. 

The silence spurs him on. “I know you’ve seen me screw it up with people before. You have a unique perspective on all of this, having seen me self-destruct a million times. I want to get it together, I really do.” 

Her lack of a response is unsettling. He takes a deep, shaky breath, then exhales, sitting all the way up. He looks at her again to gauge her reaction, but her expression remains unchanged. 

“And now I’m dumping on you. And I’ve made it weird. See, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Josh,” Donna finally says. “You didn’t make it weird. I was just giving you space to process.”

“Oh. I think that’s the longest you’ve ever let me talk uninterrupted.”

Donna laughs. “Surely not. You’ve started and finished many a monologue in your day. Just maybe not about your feelings.”

“I can’t say I’ll make it a habit,” he quips. “Doesn’t feel very good. At least not when I’m not paying someone to get inside my head.”

“When was the last time you talked to Stanley?” she asks. “Have you called him since…”

“It’s been a little while,” Josh says, cutting her off before she says what he knows she’s going to say. She was going to say since Leo died, but truth be told, he hasn’t called before Donna went to Gaza.

“Do you think it may be a good idea to talk to him during the transition?” 

He nods. “Probably.”

Donna takes his hand. “I can tell you’re trying, Josh. I know it’s not easy. I want you to talk to me. I’m willing to listen and help how I can. But I also know you well enough to know that my brand of support is different than Stanley’s, and sometimes you need that, too.”

“You’re right,” he says. “Sorry, I kind of killed the mood. I promise I’ll call him when we get back.”

“Don’t be sorry.” All of a sudden, she smiles. “You must really like me, huh?”

He laughs. “What makes you say that?”

“You were pretty worried I was going to bolt,” Donna says. 

He looks at her for a minute before he leans in and kisses her, softly and slowly. Her hands find their way to his hair, pulling him in toward her as the kiss becomes more intense. He finally breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop worrying about that.”

“I think you will. Someday,” she answers, before reconnecting for another kiss.

Someday. He likes the sound of that.

[cicinicole-14]

Hi for the ship thing and headcanons, please do jolex 🥰

Who is a night owl:

dont get me wrong, they both most definitely will stay up late together or both pass out before 9pm on a Friday night, but some days when the depression hits, its jsut different and Jo is definitely more of the night owl. Alex is more of a morning person and Jo would rather sleep like the dead. 

Who is a morning person:

as we’ve discovered, more so Alex esp when they have kiddos. Alex is the one to get up with them early and let Jo sleep, he makes breakfast with the kids’ help and keeps their room quiet for jo to get some extra sleep but will unleash their evil spawns when he deems she’s slept in long enough. 

Are they cuddlers:

some days, yes, mostly. jo definitely loves the affection from someone who genuinely loves and wants her back. but there are days where she literally is like “do not come near me with your (temperature) hot body Alexander Michael Karev, you are a heater and I am already too warm” 

Who is the big spoon and who is the little spoon:

Alex is def the big spoon. Jo likes cuddling into him because sh feels safe, he feels like home. but she def has big spooned him too it’s a 50/50 relationship we have equal roles people

What is their favourite sleeping position:

no lie, both spread out like starfish in their bed. 

Who steals all the blankets: 

Jo. Alex is a space heater and doesnt need blankets she freezes and likes being snuggled up and warm

What they wear to bed:

I mean some nights, nothing, but like jo def loves Alex’s old Iowa state shirts or his wrestling shirts from HS that smell like him. an old worn in t-shirt, anything with a pair of booty shorts or his boxers even. and Alex will just wear a t-shirt and boxers or flannels in the winter. 

Who likes seeing the other wearing their t-shirt:

Alex wholeheartedly loves when jo wears his shirts unless its his favorite flannel and she steals it “come on, jo. you know that’s my favorite one. I wear it all the time.” its exactly why she takes it. 

Who falls asleep mid-conversation:

jo, unintentionally. sometimes the insomnia hits and she won’t have slept for a couple days so when life catches back up to her she will fall asleep randomly. even more so while pregnant and right after their daughter is born. she just “night night Josephine” 

Who wakes up in the middle of the night with nightmares:

they both have their fair share of horrid nightmares. Alex’s deal a lot with his trauma of growing up. his mom pulling various knives on his siblings and dad attacking them. even nightmares of jo leaving him like Izzie did and he wakes up without her. 

jo’s are terrifying as well. she dreams that Paul’s death was just an illusion and that hes still out there and he’ll still come and get her. she wakes up drenched in a cold sweat and Alex holds her and they pull up his death certificate on the gsm database to prove it. she also has nightmares about being abandoned again. dreams of herself as a baby, dreams of her mother leaving her at that firestation. horrid nightmares. and Alex just holds her. she also has many nightmares about Alex abandoning her too just like her mother abandoned her but he’s never done that he’s always there when she wakes up and everything is okay again

Who accidentally punched the other in their sleep:

jo is an absolute horrible bed partner. she does NOT sleep still. she will move around so much during sleep its dangerous. yes, Alex did wake up with a bruise across his cheek one night from an elbow to the face...

Who can’t keep their hands to themself:

both of them. theyre notorious horndogs no autocorrect they are not corndogs please stop correcting me when you’re wrong 

and just because, im throwing in the parenting meme one too bc my heart melts

packs the lunches

Alex. he gets up with the kids in the mornings and also we do not trust jo to make their children food. she’d feed them boxed Mac n cheese and take out the entirety of their lives. and while they love that and Alex wouldn’t care if it was jsut them, their kids need real food. he packs them lunchables and uncrustables but at least its a little more of a variety. 

blows raspberries while cuddling

jo, more so. they both do, but jo LOVES a good chunky baby belly she can blow raspberries onto. and yes she leaves maroon lipstick marks on chubby cheeks and bellies. 

is the tickle monster

Alex. and she runs to mommy to save her from daddy! “oh, now you want mommy, huh? as soon as daddy is the tickle monster all you want is mommy? not when I wanted cuddles, or we picked you up from daycare or I dont know, I gave birth to you and wanted snuggles you cry and want daddy but now hes the tickle monster you want me?” and jo scoops her up and tries saving her but ultimately they lose and get attacked in their very large bed by the tickle monster. 

gives life lesson speeches

they both do just depending on the situations. 

when the girls start dating, jo sits them all down separately, and explains to them a bit of her past. letting them know that no man should ever lay hands on them. she teaches them how to defend themselves and Alex ofc shows them in example how women should be treated. Alex makes it clear that if a guy or girl ever should treat his daughters or his son in any other way than he treats jo, that he needs to know and gOD forbiD one of them lay a finger on one of his children there WILL be hell to pay. jo obviously consoles him in front of her children but tells him “u already have a record. if anyone lays hands on our children I will be putting them in the ground not you”

kisses the boo-boos

Alex he is a pushover and 100% makes sure all boo-boos are kissed and even when the kids are way too old for having their boo-boos kissed, he makes sure the bandaids that are no longer avengers or dinosaur or unicorn or princess themed, have been properly kissed. even through protests of “dad, im not five anymore I dont need my bandaids kissed” “how do you expect them to heal, then, CJ? you’re my most clumsy kid, and I have had to kiss all your boo-boos and never once have I not. thats why you’re still in once piece” 

breaks the bad news

jo makes Alex do it most times. she claims she’s the fun parent and tries to stay the fun parent by making Alex break bad news like “we cannot get another dog” she blames it on Alex but then brings home a puppy the following week. 

joins the PTA

listen. LISTEN. when Greyson started big kid school, in kindergarten, they placed her in private school to give her everything they didnt have growing up. jo was determined to make sure she gave her daughter everything made sure she felt loved and was spoiled it was terrible. so jo, of course, sent her to Seattle Elementary academy and was not paying attention when she signed some forms signing up to be in the PTA. she loathed it so much and “Alex im sorry I cant do this. I know we wanted to give Gracie everything we didnt have growing up but I cant take it I cant take the private school. the volunteer hours the strict dress code violations? she is FIVE. I also have to volunteer FORTY HOURS this year alone. no! I am a surgeon, a mother of two and im pregnant! I do not have time for this! all these PTA moms are stay at home moms who have nothing better to do than gossip about their neighbors and drink wine. and I swear to god if I have to hear about Jessica’s fucking essential oils pyramid scheme one more time I will shove those oils so far up her a––” “Jo! Look, Ali, mommy’s here!” Alex interrupts her just in time. he doesnt blame her. those private school moms are quiet the handful. every time, one of them has the nerve to hit on him. “and I swear, if one more of those moms hits on you in front of me, im going to backhand her with my engagement ring on. no hate to most of them, but theyre too much” they end up ending Gracie, and Ali and the rest of the kids to public school just like they had grown up in and did just fine. 

crashes sleepovers with embarrassing stories

oh one hundred and ten percent Alexander Michael Karev. he will find any moment to break out embarrassing stories and photos. hell, even when Zola, Bailey, ellis, Sofia, Harriet, scout, any of the bunch come over he’ll embarrass them too!  

gives the crazy nicknames

not really either of them (that ive figured out in the moment) (the kkc kids do not have crazy nicknames yet) (we jsut have Gracie for Greyson, Ali for Alice, and CJ for Cristina Jo. Alexis goes by Sissy because of Alexis and Alexa and Eli usually goes by bubba seeing as how that’s what the twins have called each other growing up with Izzie and that stuck) 

thank you so much for these! I loved loved loved doing them! even threw in some KKC universe things so if yall have questions about that feel free to ask I will share! tho there is yet to have a fic out about them yet… its been a bit difficult with writers block /: 

[merakiaes]

Hello! Can I get Marvel, Harry Potter, Twilight, Stranger Things, The Witcher, Peaky Blinders, The Walking Dead, Suicide Squad, Game Of Thrones ship? 💖 179 cm tall; dark brown, past shoulder-length hair with bangs; blue eyes (the left eye is mixed with hazel, aka, heterochromia iridium); heptagon face shape with dimples; rectangle body shape. Hufflepuff. INFP-T. Bi-curious. Pisces-Aries cusp sign. ”Looks like could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll.” At first, I may come off as reserved, shy, yet polite. I, as many of us, have a resting bitch face, that’s why people may think that I’m in a bad mood. It takes me a lot of time to warm up to somebody, cause I have social anxiety. Hate small talk, or speaking in front of the public. When I’m nervous, I tend to mess up my words or forget what I was supposed to say. I’m usually playful, dirty-minded and goofy around close friends. I’m the so-called, ”fashionista and mom” from my circle of friends. A perfectionist, punctual, over-thinker, slight control/clean freak. Stubborn in some situations. If I’m annoyed or getting impatient, I can say something witty or sarcastic. I’m constantly fighting an inner battle with myself, trying to accept myself. I don’t like to smile or laugh in public, cause of the small gap between my front teeth. I really hate taking selfies or somebody else taking pictures of me. The clothes I wear depends on my mood (and the weather outside), but it’s always a mix of smart casual or comfortable. Don’t like doing things out of my comfort zone, prefer to stay indoors. Dislike asking people for help (it makes me feel uncomfortable). I don’t like arguments, but I will square up if they come for my family or I snapped. I’m a kind-hearted person, always ready to help someone in need, quite modest as well. My hobbies include listening to any type of music, reading, watching movies or tv shows, traveling (if given the chance), and cleaning. Have a thing for writing. Very protective of my family. Divorced parents. Motherly towards kids and friends. An old soul, and the ”black sheep” of my family. A feminist, support LGBTQ+ community. Sometimes I like to try and cook easy recipes. Dislike black coffee, prefer tea or orange juice. That’s it, - thanks!

MARVEL

I ship you with Bruce Banner!

He would be kind of wary and scared to talk to you to a start. The other guy may be big and strong, but he’s not. He doesn’t have much confidence in himself when in his human form and he would be intimidated by you at first glance, but once he actually works up the courage to come and talk to you, you’d get on great.

He knows what it's like to struggle with social anxiety so he would be patient and need some time to become comfortable with you, as well, scared of messing things up by saying the wrong thing and/or sharing too much. 

Like you, he rambles when he’s nervous so that’s just another thing you have in common, but once he’s comfortable with someone, he’s more than happy to participate in some sarcastic, dirty-minded banter. 

He’s very reserved and, like earlier mentioned, doesn’t have much confidence. He would never understand how someone like you would want someone like him but he would be so in awe of the fact that you did want him. 

He knows all too well what it’s like to be at odds with yourself and accepting who you are so he would be very understanding and supportive of that, and he’d comfort you about your insecurities and let you know that you’re more than good enough. 

You’re also very similar in that you prefer to stay indoors, away from all kinds of social activity, and not go out of your comfort zones while, as well as the way you’re both more than willing to help other people in need while disliking asking for help for yourselves.

HARRY POTTER

I ship you with George Weasley!

George is the literal definition of a cinnamon roll. He’s so kind, caring and thoughtful, and I feel like we don’t talk about that nearly enough. 

You’re shy and reserved, and he’s forward and energetic. You struggle to warm up to people, and he has no problem whatsoever getting to know new people. So I feel like it would be a good match. He would kinda just force all his energy onto you so that you, as a result, wouldn’t feel as anxious about meeting someone new, you know?

He could help you let loose a bit more, and I mean that in the most respectful way possible; not because you’re uptight, but more so to help relieve some of that stress and pressure that everything always has to be perfect.

He’s so loud as a person that neither you nor anyone else would even notice your mistakes, like messing up your words, because George and his twin just take the stage wherever they go. 

George loves pushing his limits and discovering new things so I feel like he’d definitely try to get you out of your comfort zones on some occasions, but at the same time, he’s a lot less pushy than his twin and would give up if he noticed that you really didn’t want to do something, whereas Fred probably would’ve just dragged you along by your arm and bugged you until you gave in.

He’d find your shy personality adorable to a start but once you got comfortable enough to show your playful, dirty-minded and goofy side, he would just be amazed and get even more excited around you. 

And knowing him, he’d love both your heterochromia and the gap between your teeth. He would find your eyes the most fascinating thing in the world, and he’s just generally a person who loves “different” and finds it beautiful. 

Being protective over family and loved ones is a plus for any of the Weasleys, seeing as the most precious thing they have is just that; family. So the fact that this is a quality you have would make George even more attracted to you, as would your motherly instincts.

 TWILIGHT

I ship you with Embry Call!

Like Bruce, Embry probably would’ve been a bit intimidated by you on first sight. Not only because of your resting bitch face, but also because he just has no experience with girls, whatsoever. 

After much encouragement from the other boys, however, he probably would’ve been able to work up the courage needed to approach you and most likely, knowing him, he would’ve stumbled over his words and completely messed up, so you’d never have to worry about messing up like that, yourself, because he would just be such a mess that it would be hard to beat. 

Embry is, like you, playful, dirty-minded and goofy when he’s in the right company, but he’s much quieter and shyer than the other boys on the reservation, as well as reserved in general - like you. He’s also a lot more caring and loving than his pack members but, like the rest of them, he’s very protective of family, which is just another thing the two of you share. 

Embry is a wolf so, obviously, he enjoys being outside and participating in fast-paced activities, but I don’t think he’d mind staying inside with you, watching movies, or just listening to music and hanging out. His mom definitely wouldn’t mind, as he’s technically grounded for life for sneaking out every night, which he keeps ignoring much to her dismay. 

He’s just so kind and humble. He’d be so sweet and supportive about your insecurities and never force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, and he’d be all over your cooking, no matter how good or bad you are at it!

 STRANGER THINGS

I ship you with Jonathan Byers!

Jonathan knows everything about being the black sheep. He had to find himself and learn his value completely on his own, so he knows what it’s like to be at war with your own mind in accepting who you are. 

He believes that people should be judged by their ability to work rather than by what gender they are and that women should be respected just as much as men, as seen when he disapproved of how Nancy was being treated by her co-workers, and therefore also shares your feminist ideals. 

He would be the sweetest to you about your insecurities and tell you that it’s okay to be different no matter what and that you’re beautiful and enough just the way you are. 

He’s introverted, asocial and kind just like you, cares very deeply for family and knows what it’s like to have divorced parents. 

He’s very much into music just like you are and is not very fond of small talk nor fighting either, so I feel like you would have a really calm and stable relationship. 

 THE WITCHER

I ship you with Jaskier!

Jaskier is a little like George Weasley in the way that he always steals all the attention whenever he walks into a room. He’s got a very loud personality and for the same reasons I think you’d be good with George, I think you would be good with Jaskier!

Unlike you who prefer staying within your comfort one, Jaskier might care about that a bit too little. Let’s just say that he would never bother you about not being more adventurous, because he’d be far too busy stepping out of his comfort zone and getting into trouble, himself, to notice.

Jaskier is also a big fan of writing, reading and, of course, music, so I think you’d be able to have some really good times together.

 PEAKY BLINDERS

I ship you with Ada Shelby!

Being the only woman as well as the only really sensible member of a family full of gangsters for sure puts a person under the “black sheep”-category, so Ada knows all about feeling out of place. 

She’s the only member of the Shelby family who absolutely hates violence which is one of the main reasons I think you’d suit each other, seeing as you don’t like arguments. Just like you, she will square up if she absolutely has to in order to defend herself, but she’d much prefer not to. 

She’s very level-headed and tries her best to stay well clear of all the illegal activities that her family get up to, instead, putting her focus into activism and trying to improve equality for everyone, as well as trying to embrace the beautiful and sensuous things life has to offer.

She has a natural instinct to take care of those who can’t look after themselves, she’s kind-hearted and humane, accepting and understanding, so she would be very patient with getting to know you and let you take the time you needed. 

Out of all the Peaky Blinders characters, I can almost guarantee you that Ada is your best shot at getting a peaceful and unproblematic life. 

THE WALKING DEAD

I ship you with Daryl Dixon!

Daryl may be brave and good at surviving, but he is, at the same time, constantly facing challenges from his past as an abuse victim. Because of his trauma, he’s very socially awkward and doesn’t really know how to connect with other people, even though he does seem to have the desire to do so. For example, at the beginning of the apocalypse, he often spoke to people without making eye contact and cringed away from physical touch, with little to no social skills, and even though he has definitely gotten better at it, the struggle is still there to some extent.

His childhood trauma is also the reason for his insecurities, of which the biggest one is his scars. He’s ashamed of them and every day he’s reminded of the fact that he, through all his life, has been nothing and no one. He often shows signs that he considers himself to be worthless as well as depressed, and shows clear discomfort and distrust for people he’s not all that familiar with. 

Because of the discomfort of being around people, he prefers to keep his distance from groups, because he functions best when he’s either alone or in the company of just one or two people; preferably the former. So naturally, he’s very quiet, not at all fond of small talk. Even with people he’s comfortable being around, he’d rather sit in a comfortable, mutual silence than speak. 

You have all these things in common; finding it hard trusting and opening up to people, being over-thinkers, disliking small talk, constantly fighting inner battles with yourselves and struggling to accept yourselves, disliking asking people for help, as well as having big social anxieties in general.

But what you also have in common is that you’re very protective of family. Daryl may prefer to keep to himself, but he doesn’t hesitate to risk his life in order to save the members of his group. He’s incredibly selfless and loyal to a fault and would stop at nothing to protect his people as well as help people who can’t protect themselves. 

As a result of his abuse, he also an extreme attentiveness to others. He’s so hypervigilant that not only is he always prepared for zombies, but he can also attentive to the emotions of people. So even though he might struggle with communicating sympathy verbally and through touch, he will go to great lengths to use his special skills to help those in pain, this meaning - you wouldn’t have to communicate your feelings through words every time since he’d most likely pick up on your body language, which can be a really big relief when you’re self-conscious about stumbling over words when nervous and struggle with social anxiety. 

He would just be very understanding of your social issues in general and as he absolutely hates when people try to pry into his life before the apocalypse, he would never put any pressure, whatsoever, on you to open up to him in anything other than your own time. If anyone knows what it’s like to feel out of place, it’s him. 

SUICIDE SQUAD

I ship you with Rick Flag!

It’s no secret that Rick is very serious and short-tempered when in combat and on the job. His personality is usually described as sturdy, stoic and serious and he’s been trained to serve and follow orders without questions. He takes his responsibilities very seriously and gets frustrated when others don’t pay him the same respect.

But away from his job, Rick also has a softer, more vulnerable side and is capable of warming up even to enemies through his ability to see things from different perspectives, as seen when he happily hugs Floyd after defeating Enchantress. He’s deeply protective of those he loves and would go to unthinkable lengths to protect them. 

He isn’t a person who willingly goes out of his comfort zone either; on the contrary, it’s usually something he’s pressured to do by other people who, often, have some kind of leverage on him. 

So had he only been presented with the choice, I think he’d really be into the idea of a simple life with no drama, no danger. Just him, his significant other, living together and going about their ways either separately or together, before having dinner and falling asleep together in front of a good movie or tv show. He’d be more than happy living a life as simple as that. 

Underneath that whole military attitude, he also has a sense of humor hidden away; the goofy and playful one, just like yours. And I think that you would be really good together in that sense. 

GAME OF THRONES

I ship you with Jon Snow!

Jon is known to be humble, calm and withdrawn and would, at least after the events of the last season, much rather live a calm, simple life than one full of adventure and challenged limits since he’s so clearly shown to be burdened by the constant danger and responsibility. 

All his life, Jon has lived as an outcast; a bastard, and the black sheep in a family of wolves. Because of Catelyn’s consistent hatred and torment, he never felt anything other than hatred, self-doubt and shame toward himself and has never felt like he belongs anywhere, with anyone. 

He was forced to quietly wrestle with dejection and loneliness his entire life; always among them, but never really one of them, and because he never quite fit in, he was naturally more susceptible to anti-social behavior, as shown in the way that he always tends to mind his own business, prefers to stay within his comfort zone and also in the way that he isn’t big on small talk.

He was so ashamed of himself and who he was that he pledged himself to the Night’s Watch in order to escape the label of a bastard, so he knows better than anyone what it’s like to try and accept oneself. 

To finish it off, he’s the ultimate feminist, who takes powerful women for what they are and understands the importance of lifting them up. He encouraged Arya and her proclivity for archery and combat and he admitted to his misjudgments and faults without being derisive or sexist when Sansa outsmarted him and saved his ass in the Battle of the Bastards so he doesn’t consider it to be emasculating to be equal, or even inferior, to a woman, and doesn’t pick and choose what kind of woman to support. He supports all of them and their individual strengths, whether it be physical power in combat, or mental power in politics. 

FAST AND FURIOUS

I ship you with Leon!

Little is known about Leon since he was only in the first movie with minimal screentime, but I have, over the years, built my own opinion of him through his way of behaving in the moments we actually got to see him.

My first thought on him was that he’s a bit of the lost loner type and that he’s much more rational and level-headed than the others.

He voices his disapproval to Dom on several occasions and got shut down every time, which showed that he didn’t really trust him to keep them safe and out of handcuffs, and that he wasn’t comfortable with how far they were taking things. 

This, to me, equals that he’s not a person who is very fond of stepping out of his comfort zone and would much rather play it safe and stick to the things he knows.

I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a coward, but he’s definitely more cautious than the rest of the squad. Rather than getting high off the thrill, he just seems like he’s along for the ride, without actually needing the excitement like the others do. Plain and simple: he’s a tag-along:er, not an adrenaline junkie.

In the scenes he’s in, he was always the one to, in one way or another, look out for the well-being of the others, and I can imagine, since he and Jesse met before the two joined the squad, that he looked after Jesse for a long while, as well.

Jesse had pretty severe ADD as well as slightly faulty instincts and understandings in some social settings both because of his ADD and because he was raised by his criminal dad to know no better, so looking out for him would probably take a little bit of work since I’d guess that he got himself into trouble a lot. 

Because of this, I’ve kind of put him in the “caretaker”-category, since he seems to be so much more genuine and caring than the rest, and that, in turn, is why I think he’d be a good match for you. 

I also think that you’d be good together because of the fact Jesse shares a lot of qualities with you; a bit reserved, stuttering when nervous, and being generally anxious around strangers. Since Leon has experience with this, he wouldn’t judge you but rather know how to handle it, support you and make you feel more comfortable. 

His mother left him when he was still young and he has clearly been struggling to find a place where he belongs. He thought that he found it with Dom’s crew, but when Jesse died and Vince and Letty got seriously hurt, he obviously had enough, decided that the heat had become too risky and that he didn’t want anything more to do with the illegal activities. 

Once again, after Jesse’s passing, he was left alone, and I’m one hundred percent sure that he left the crew to go live a safer, calmer life because, like Rick Flag, he just seems like the type to want a quiet life with a like-minded significant other, maybe some animals and/or a kid or two. Basically just a “perfect, happy family”-situation with no risk-taking, just staying safe within your comfort zones. 

[kneamet]

Angel of cards (13/16)

Trigger Warning: no.

Summary: Joker, Mr. J, anarchist psychopath, Tom Hiddleston. He had many nicknames. Joker was Gotham’s most dangerous and insightful man, with sharp makeup and horribly memorable scars on his face in the form of a smile. He was absolutely crazy and deadly. No one knows his real identity and everyone is afraid of his cruel jokes. But what happens when he becomes obsessed with an ordinary girl?

She belongs to him. No one can take her away from him. Even The Batman.

Chapter thirteen: the Hospital

"Dear Bruce,

I'll be honest with you... I'm going to marry Harvey Dent. I love him and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. When I said that if Gotham didn't need Batman anymore... we can be together... I wasn't lying. But I'm sure the day will never come when you don't need Batman.

I hope I'm wrong. And if so, I'll be there. But as a friend. If you have lost faith in me, please keep your faith in people.

With everlasting love, Rachel, " Bruce whispered the last sentence softly, resenting the loss. There were gentle tears in his eyes. The hand clutched the paper on which the love words were written.

Why Rachel? Why her? Why exactly the love of his life, and not... someone else? Why did the Joker say this address and not some other address? Why did he name the place where Harvey is?

"Alfred?" Without taking his eyes off the window, his right eyebrow slightly raised, but still with an emotionless, steely voice that had an anxious and trembling note in it, Wayne asked.

In his peripheral vision, Bruce could see that Alfred had entered the room, dressed like a string. He couldn't see his expression or feel his feelings, but he knew that his beloved butler was also deeply sorry.

"Yes, Master Wayne?" asked Alfred, in his usual voice, with a hint of regret in it. He knew how much his master loved Rachel.

"Is it my fault?" Bruce asks with a sigh, feeling the paper get wet because of his sweaty palms from the fear of responsibility. "I was supposed to inspire good... not madness and death, " Wayne's always calm voice faltered. His jaw trembled slightly. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"You inspired good, but you spat in the face of the Gotham mafia. Did you think there would be no consequences?" Alfred asked, still holding the bottle of wine in his old hands, which Bruce would probably drink in one gulp. "Life always gets worse before it gets better," he sighed again and stood up from his comfortable black chair, turning to Pennyworth.

"But Rachel, Alfred," he countered, raising his voice slightly. It was too much to bear. Will Bruce be able to cope with such grief on his own? Would the general darkness swallow him up?

"Rachel believed in what you stood for. Gotham needs you, " the butler said in a reassuring old voice, moving closer to his master. He just looked down.

"Gotham needs a real hero," a real one. Not like him. Gotham needs someone who can always defend their rights and protect Gotham in a truly legal way. "And I almost let that psycho blow him to hell," Bruce whispered softly, referring to the Joker.

Wayne's hand, which was already holding the piece of paper with the love and voluptuous words, only tightened and tightened. The Joker. This blood-pumping and frenzied lunatic who only thinks about how to destroy Gotham.

And what about his equally beloved Blake? The same person who could always support him when Rachel was away? And if Rachel, he sighed, could be subject to that darkness, he didn't notice it for Blake.

Still, what does this fucking nutcase want with his best friend's niece? Bruce licked his parched lips of honey that had become wet from the tears of the meek.

He must understand everything.

***

"She wanted to wait for me," Harvey mumbled, gripping his aching knuckles tightly. He could still see the pleas and screams of his beloved as she died. Rachel. He opened his mouth slightly in annoyance, pulling his lower jaw forward. Will he be able to live without everything now?

First, the Joker took away the first ray of light in his life — Blake. His beloved niece, whom he adored with all his kindred love. Would he have been able to break into the ranks of prosecutors if he hadn't been there? Hardly.

The second thing the Joker took from him was Rachel. His favorite, his sweetest girl, for whom he was willing to do anything. Exactly the same one. The one who always supported him, helped him.

He didn't listen to Gordon's useless talk. Even aside from the fact that he was a very nice person who really felt sorry for him, Harvey didn't want to see him right now. His obsessive and mumbling behavior only irritated him and injected more anger.

"I'm sorry about Rachel," he said suddenly, after a long silence that lasted about a mortal two minutes. Dent choked on his breath. "The doctor says you have a terrible pain, but you don't take your medication. That you refuse... from a skin graft, " knowing that it would not entail anything good, Gordon said quietly. Harvey only stifled a guttural growl. Idiot. Idiot. What kind of mumbling creature is this?

"You remember that name... what you gave me... When did I work for you?" Dent asked, turning to face Jim, who was standing with his head down and his brown-and-green cap in his hands.

He could see the flash of fear in the commissioner's eyes, but immediately suppressed. Is he afraid of him? But why? What's there to be afraid of? These burns on the second half of the face? Or what?

"How was it, Gordon?" he asked in a more severe voice, squinting his right eye.

"Harvey, I am..."

"Speak up," Harvey said in a steely and very stern voice, feeling an uneasy shiver run down his spine. He knew the nickname. Knew. "Speak up!"

"Two-face. Harvey is two-faced."

"Why hide who I am now?" the man asked, baring his teeth and swallowing.

"I'm sorry," Gordon said in a low voice, only clinging more tightly to himself. He didn't like being shouted at, even though he'd seen a lot of things in his life.

"No," came the steely reply again.

***

Damn Moroni! The Joker thought furiously. His thoughts were now just a hailstorm of thoughts and a chaotic chaos that couldn't calm down. He licked his dry, bland, cold lips with a rough tongue. He was walking briskly toward Harvey Dent's room.

Oh, yes, the very man he had almost killed, and whom Batman had saved just in time. What a good boy he is. He would have to do it again somehow, and arrange a soft and favorable game for his favorite toy.

Although to be honest, Batman was eerily boring. That mumbling, stern voice and thoughts that he couldn't even properly show and say. Were you sure he was Bruce Wayne, the son of rich parents?

The Joker clenched his fists. His nostrils flared wide and he drew in a sharp breath. He resisted the urge to grimace. He likes the smell of the hospital. Medical supplies and equipment. Terribly. It's disgusting. Antiseptics for surface treatment, autoclave, hospital food, quartz, and the patients themselves, who apparently rarely wash, also had an unpleasant smell.

The Joker pressed the black plastic doorknob, pushing open the white door and entering a room that was clearly designed for premium guests. He chuckled, licking his painted lips again. Sloppy.

He quickly looked around the room, trying to find something that could be used against him. His quick and deft eye caught only a small silver tray, but he was unlikely to be able to defend himself with it.

The Joker sat down on the brown chair next to Harvey's bed. What beautiful burns the fire had left him, the Joker grinned. It definitely suits him. And how he hadn't done that to himself before. He stifled a small laugh.

"Hi," the Joker drawled, grinding his teeth together and making an unpleasant sound. Harvey, of course, woke up. The man saw the body of the injured patient tremble slightly and suddenly Harvey turns his head, shuddering slightly and trying to stand up.

"You know..." the Joker drawled again, prolonging the intrigue, until suddenly he noticed the terrible look of his interlocutor. Why is he looking so surprised? Oh, yes, the nurse's costume. In general, he liked it.

The Joker, or rather Tom, always liked to dress in women's suits. He felt to the bottom sometimes... more complete, or what? Yes, I suppose so, considering that it was only his mother who took care of Tom at the time.

He pulled back his fake red hair, trying to mess it up even more. Although it would seem that much more? They were already in a very sloppy state.

"...I don't want any hard feelings between us, Harvey, " the Joker curled his lips in disdain, slightly pinching his nose and frowning. "When my angel..." The Joker liked this savage look of Harvey, who was ready to tear anyone up for his favorite girls in the form of Blake and Rachel. But now that neither one, that is, Harvey, nor the other, that is, Bruce, has a favorite, how will they cope now?

How good it was that he had an angel of his own.

"Blake!" said Harvey loudly. The Joker grinned imperceptibly and raised his hands in the air, as if admitting the truth of the other person.

"...my angel was kidnapped ... " the Joker continued, taking great pleasure in Dent's anger. "...I didn't kidnap her. More precisely, I kidnapped her, but not to kill her. I'll do you a huge favor... My angel, or yours, or maybe Bruce's, Blake, is still alive. And I confess from the bottom of my heart, I'm being a gentleman to her," he saw Harvey's displeased face.

What doesn't he like? His niece is alive and well, she is happy to spend time with him, what is the problem?

"By the way, I didn't detonate those bombs," the Joker said quickly, as if trying to get off the subject, raising his hands again and licking his lips. To be honest, it was not pleasant for him to go without his favorite gloves.

It's terrible to look at your scars. They're so awful, Tom thought, suddenly breaking into the Joker's thoughts. Go away, Thomas! You're in the way! And didn't the Joker tell you that it's not exactly the right time to show up? Yes, and that very moment of obsession.

"These are your people. Your plan!" accused Harvey loudly, trying to rebel again, but the Joker only let out a nervous laugh, after which Det immediately stopped moving, froze with his eyes wide open.

"Do I look like someone who has a plan?" the Joker asked in an insistent tone, arching an eyebrow. He chuckled. However, suddenly, his eyes widened and he quickly jumped out of the chair, lowering his shoulders down and taking quick steps towards the door.

Harvey asked when the Joker was already out the door, but still not closing the door. The man just smiled reassuringly.

"My angel will miss you, I know, but I promise I'll beat the crap out of her and she'll be my wife," the Joker said unctuously, watching as Harvey's eyes began to grow larger. He tried to do something again and began to move quickly, trying to free himself and stand up. Suddenly, a door slammed. "Goodbye, Harvey-ee-ee," the Joker sang.

The man began to walk quickly towards the main exit. Now the fun begins. I wonder if the media will like this show? But he didn't want to think about it now. His biggest concern right now was his angel. Oh, how she must have missed him... Hungry and bored for sure. Well, he would help her.

And now we need to kill Harvey Dent.

[juminly]

Hi hi dear! Hope you are doing well☺❤🌻 After i saw your matchup i couldn't resist asking for one! ☺🌻❤ can i pretty please request an Ikevamp match up ☺ i am super curious to see which vampy boi u think would suit me best hehe 🌻thank a million! Sending ya lots o hugs🌻☺ hope ya keeping safe and warm❤

The Art of  Love & War

Context: Finding yourself in an unknown place AND back in time wasn’t an easy experience for you. It was only natural for you to be overtaken by a strong sense of unease because of the unfamiliarity of your surroundings. A mansion full of so-called vampires, a bunch of historical figures that you’ve read so much about but were now all before you, in the flesh. It was a lot to take in and no one could blame you for keeping to yourself and isolating yourself from others (unless you were coaxed by the gentle Comte  [kinda forced by Sebastian] otherwise). 

Fitness has always been something that you indulged in and engaging in physical activity allowed you to focus solely on what your body is doing, pushing away where your thoughts would usually wander (sometimes unnecessarily in very dark paths, considering your situation). 

It was not safe for a woman to go about in the city all alone, let alone, jogging and running which is something unspoken of during those times. Sebastian knew what you were doing and could only think of one way to remedy this situation without causing any inconvenience to your routine.

One day, you woke up at the crack of dawn to find Napoleon leaning on the grand door of your mansion, blocking your exit.

“Bonjour petite nunuche, Sebastian and Le Comte have taken it upon themselves to bestow on me quite an interesting chore. They believe I’m spending way too much time sleeping. I hope you’re worth the sleep I’m wasting on you.”

He had no intention of sounding harsh but his teasing was meant to get a reaction out of you. And they certainly did. Those words were enough to earn him some snarky remarks from you and it earned you a most glorious smile on Napoleon’s face. He knew that there was much more to find under that shy exterior of yours. 

Sebastian couldn’t think of anyone else who would be able to keep up with you but Napoleon. Jean was also a candidate but considering his state of mind, it would take some time before he even agrees to be anywhere near you. 

Your relationship started with the morning jogs that he joined you on. He was unfamiliar with the notion of women engaging in strenuous physical activity and he was definitely impressed and curious to know more about your time. 

He was the yin to your yang, his personality not necessarily opposing yours, but complimenting it, filling in the gaps that closed the distance between you. His extroverted and easy-going nature was more than enough to get you to loosen up around him, almost too easily.  

Napoleon is an extremely charming man and was eloquent, adept enough to make you feel at ease around him. You spent your mornings talking about your time, how your life was like, how invested you are in your studies, how you enjoyed working out and allocated enough time to do the things that you loved. 

You never seemed to notice it but his eyes would shine with admiration the more he got you to talk about yourself. Your ambitions in life, your intelligence and your wit unconsciously made him grow very fond of you.

Even though he led a life full of bloodshed, fear and treachery, he saw in you the peace and the beauty of simplicity that he ached for. He felt that maybe, if he were able to be your friend only for a short period of time, he might be able to live a life that he would be satisfied with (one where he wouldn’t have to escape through long hours of sleep).

He found your sense of humour endearing and he was one of the few to laugh at your jokes (along with Arthur, Dazai, Leonardo and even Theodorus sometimes). You certainly brought more life to the mansion, especially when you would sometimes butt heads with Theo, who would take your sarcastic demeanor as a challenge. (that man is just to easy to rile up)

Having evaluated your physical capabilities, Napoleon deemed it fit to teach you fencing and invited you to join him and Jean during their sparring session. It was challenging, fun and extremely exciting and the adrenaline rushing through your blood was like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You found a new passion and the smile drawn on your face was one of pure contentment (and Napoleon found it absolutely ravishing).

The blood would rush to your face, sweat dripping from your forehead and your cheeks turned tomato red when the other two men would chuckle and seem like they didn’t even lift a finger. Napoleon often teased you about it and would say “Nunuche, your cheeks look red enough to bite.” (and he secretly did want to kiss them and nibble on them)

Leon couldn’t help but notice the type of food that you ate and he was practically appalled. The man was on a mission to feed you and stuff you, especially after your intense training together. And when he discovered how much of a good cook you were, he was awfully confused. “How is it that a woman of your talent for food cannot feed herself properly? What a nunuche you are.”

If you weren’t spending time together in the training room, you were both most probably in the kitchen, making a mess that Sebastian was going to have a hard time cleaning up on his own. The residents were more than happy that you and Leon spent so much time bonding in the kitchen and cooking together (they got lots of yummy food without even asking for any).

Whenever Leon wasn’t around, Jean was your sparring partner. He was your silent friend and you definitely enjoyed his presence. Even as the man was burdened with such somberness, he was a soothing presence and he appreciated your company as well.

For some reason, Leon feels his chest tighten whenever he sees how close you’ve gotten to his dear friend, Jean. He knows that there is nothing between the two of you but he can’t help but feel a bit jealous. That was when he realized he began developing romantic feelings for you.

He ended up sparring with Jean and the winner would get a kiss from you. In the middle of the fight, he realized that he was on edge and maybe a bit too aggressive. In that moment of hesitation, Jean was able to win (and whispered something in your ear while he left the training room).

Leon was completely unfazed until you meekly walked closer to him, earning you a sly comment “What’s wrong? Has the thought of kissing Jean scared you, nunuche?”. You completely wiped off the smirk off his face when you kissed his cheek and walked away, saying. “Winner decides what to do with their prize. Jean was feeling generous today.”

When Leon noticed that you were cooped up in the mansion for too long without exploring Paris, he took it upon himself to show you around: tasting local delicacies, visiting local monuments and recounting tales of the past.

During your outing, you discovered his side-job which was teaching the less-fortunate children and orphans in Paris. It was a bit hard for you to hold your tears back when you saw their eyes shining with excitement and fascination as Napoleon and Isaac took the time to teach them about the world and give them the knowledge that they needed to survive.

The children loved having you around, looking up to you as their “older sister”, confiding in you and looking for comfort whenever they needed it. They would sometimes come to you for hugs and even take short naps in your arms because they felt very comfortable being near you.

You treated them as equals and not as children (you didn’t necessarily have to be good at dealing with children to be able to support them), just like Napoleon and Isaac did, which made them very fond of you and also the assistant teacher! (Leon would demonstrate how to spar with you and showing the children, both the boys and the girls, how to defend themselves) 

Napoleon would often watch you, without you noticing (but Isaac did notice it and even Jean): whenever you teased and spoke to Arthur, the gentle way you dealt with the children. Appreciation for beauty and he saw you as a flower in full bloom that was hiding in the shadows. He wanted to see you under the bright light of day and marvel at how special you are.

During one of your lessons with the children, it was pouring cats and dogs and there was absolutely no way you would make it to the mansion without getting soaked and sick. Renting the only double room available in a nearby hotel, you decided to spend the night there until the rain subsided.

Your body was shivering almost violently from the cold as Leon tended to the fireplace. He gave you his back while you stripped out of your damp clothes, as he ordered you to (while he also did the same [only removing his top though]). He gathered the cover of his bed and turned around with his eyes closed, wrapping it around you to cover your body and pulled you against his body. He held you tightly in his arms, and hummed in approval  “Les petits ont raison. Your embrace is quite delightful.” (that was more than enough to make you turn beet red)

The next day, the sun was up and illuminating your room, announcing that it was time for you to head back home. Unknowing of Leon’s bad habit, you sat on the edge of his bed and nudged his shoulder to wake him up, only to have him grip your shoulders and pull you down for an unexpected kiss.

Zeta: *squeals and turns red* What was that? Leon: Hm? That was a kiss. Zeta: I know what a kiss is, Leon! What was that for?

Leon: It’s a sign of love and affection, ma belle.

Zeta: ... what exactly are you trying to say?

Leon: Exactly what you think I am.

He sits up and pulls you in for another kiss, a bit longer and a lot sweeter. He cradled your face so gently and kissed you with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes. “Allons-y, mon amour. I’ll make sure you have the thermae all to yourself today.”

Leon was never the type to be clingy but he has a strong protective streak, without being overbearing either. He doesn’t have to be with you 24/7 but he likes to be informed of your whereabouts, to make sure that you are safe and sound.

Considering his past, you couldn’t really blame him for being the way that he is and whenever he tried to apologize to you, shutting him up with a kiss would be the best way to make his heart flutter with happiness. You calmed him and reassured him that there was nothing for him to worry about.

Public Display of Affection is his thing and he likes and wants everyone to know that he is yours and you are his. You are his Queen and this man might have ruled France back in the day, but you were much mightier than he was, since you ruled his heart.

He’ll kiss you every single time he’ll get the chance: on your cheek, your hands, your hair and sneak a kiss on your lips too (especially when he wants to see that gorgeous blush on your cheeks).

NSFW Ahead ~ 

He mostly sweet talks when you’re in bed but says the dirtiest things in the most eloquent way which makes you sometimes giggle out of shyness.

Your first time together, Leon kissed, licked, nipped, explored and tasted every inch of your body before claiming you. He was gentle as he made love to you (and his body lightly trembled with the height of his emotions).

He likes to be playful with you, even when you are getting down and dirty so he sometimes tickles you out of nowhere and ends up laughing together before his fingers find their way between your legs, making you gasp and moan for him.

He enjoys teasing you to no end and makes you say and demand the things you want him to do for you before he actually does them. The sight of you frustrated, trembling and almost furious for his touch is absolutely mesmerizing.

He likes spending some quality time with you in the thermae. Just enjoying the warmth of the water and the vapor cleansing your skin. He would massage your body and help you wash and ask you to do the same for him. He would definitely sneak in a few kisses here and there (and would sometimes turn into heavy make-out sessions or a bit more than that). However, he simply enjoys being physically intimate with you (even without the sex).

Leon doesn’t really moan in bed but his soft grunts and groans are very arousing and enough to make you dripping wet when you’re servicing him.

He could spend the entire night with his head between your legs. He relishes the taste of you and the beautiful sounds that you make.

His favourite place to bite you: your inner thighs and wrists (so you can watch him as he feeds on you and see how much he needs you).

He growls at you whenever you try to cover your mouth or bite your lips, depriving him from hearing the moans ripping from your throat. Your pleasure fuels his so you will absolutely succumb to your desires and his needs.

You sometimes feel like he does it on purpose so that the other residents can hear you and make them know that he is the one responsible for making you lose your wits.

Favourite position

In front of a mirror: he likes to take you from the back while holding you up from your waist so he can have easy access to your neck and also turn your face around for a kiss and stimulate your breasts and clit with his hands. When you’re laying on your back: he loves locking eyes with you, seeing every single reaction you make with each touch of his hand and every thrust that he makes. He likes to have your legs over his shoulders so that he can sink deep into you and stimulate your sensitive nub with his thumb, driving you over the edge multiple times and make you tremble before he reaches his own climax.

He has the most irritating and beautiful smirk on his face when you have trouble walking around the mansion or have to excuse yourself from fencing practice.

His absolute weaknesses:

When you call out his name (whether you’re moaning, whining or just asking for his touch). He adores you more than anything and knowing, feeling and seeing how much you need him and love him in return is enough to make him lose control.

When you initiate physical contact and show any sign of neediness, clinginess, desire/yearning. He intentionally drives you into a state of frustration so that he’s able to see how you would be if you were to take things into your own hands, throw him on the bed and just claim him.

He’s a huge cuddlebug after sex and whispers the sweetest things in your ears before he falls asleep with you cradled in his arms. Your warmth is his safe haven.

Kinks: mirror sex, overstimulation, bondage (mostly blindfolding you and tying your wrist over your head), sensory stimulation (using feathers, arousing your senses with heat and cold [example: ice or melted chocolate]), edging, outdoor sex (where you could get caught).