#surely there has to be one brains genius who realized that there should be a trans friendly or even focused spa

[repldemiurge]

God a full spa day would save me

[gghostwriter]

If You Love Me Right

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 1 || Part 2 Summary: Emily asks an all important question regarding the next step of your relationship with Spencer Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.2k a/n: Back at it again with something Short n' Sweet. Unsure if this will be the last of this album inspired fics but so far the album is still on repeat. I think out of all the fluff I've written, this is the one where I could just feel how much of a green flag Spencer would be as a partner, if only he wasn't fictional. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

“Have you thought about it?” Emily asked, wine glass on hand as she slid into the seat next to you.

The sun was just starting to set, covering the lush backyard in multitude of pink & orange hues. It was a Sunday and Rossi had invited the team and their extended families for an early Italian dinner feast. When Spencer inquired about your availability, it warmed your heart to hear who you are to him.

“Are you sure you want me there, Spence?” your voice coming out soft and muffled as you burrowed yourself further into the warmth of his slender neck. His invitation was a big step in further solidifying the relationship and having been in questionable situation-ships, you had to be sure where you stood.

He pulled back, doe eyes inquisitively staring into yours. His gaze had this way of making you feel known and at home. It was as if his soul has recognized yours from eons ago and needed no further introduction.

“Of course,” his calloused fingers softly pushing stray locks behind your ears. “You’re my person now and it feels right to have you there with me.”

Emily cleared her throat binging you back to the present. “Well?”

“Thought about what?”

She nodded her head in Spencer’s direction. “Having genius babies with our boy genius?”

You softly smiled, watching your boyfriend of one year perform magic tricks for Henry and Michael. It wasn’t like it never crossed your mind. If you were being honest, by the sixth date and the first time he stayed over for the night, the idea of growing old and starting a family with Spencer by your side had started to solidify. 

“Maybe,” you drawled out. A half truth that the seasoned profiler caught on right away.

“And has this—” she lifted her hands to form quotation marks in the air. “‘maybe’ been discussed with the potential baby daddy?” 

You brought the wine glass up to your lips, the outer corner of your lips tugging upwards your face as you took a sip. Dating a man of Spencer’s caliber had given you the comfort and stability to discuss any little insecurity, adoration, and realization without the unease of thinking he’d judge you for it. Gone were those nights of second guessing and reading too much in between the lines and in its place were honest discussions between two consenting adults. 

It was a real breath of fresh air.

“Do you think we should have a baby?” you casually asked, laying on his lap as he was propped up against the headboard with a book on hand. “I mean, not this second but—yeah, do you?”

There was a rustle of pages before a soft thud. “Sweetheart, don’t take this the wrong way but are you by any chance ovulating?”

“Uh—maybe?”

He smiled, looking down at your slowly reddening cheeks. I—uh, have actually been keeping track—” he bit his lip before rushing out to explain himself. “—not to use the information for nefarious reasons but my brain just started to notice the patterns and it feels like an invasion of your privacy and—are you angry?”

“Oh Spence, no. Not at all,” your hand twining with his to stop its nervous movements. “It might be weird but I know you meant well. Now, will you tell me some facts about why you thought I was ovulating?”

“Well, studies had shown that women feel more flirty, sociable, and more physically attractive right before and during ovulation. Some studies also support the idea of increased libido which makes sense since that is the peak window for propagation of the human species.”

You giggled, always welcoming his rambles even if it had to do with your own reproductive system. “Right, but you know what else got me thinking about it?”

A slight scrunch in between his eyebrows appeared as his mind no doubt rewound the day for any trigger. His eyes brightening when it clicked. “Was it the picture of me holding Henry and Michael?”

“Definitely,” you breathed out, starting to feel warm just thinking about how secure his hold was to the newborn babies and that smile on his face that reached his molten hazel eyes and radiated from his whole face.

He pressed feather-like kisses all over cheeks and forehead. “There’s actually also a study on why that affected you so much. It all comes down to women seeing their partners acting as providers—” he cut himself off to land a kiss on your lips. “—I’m not saying no—I’d actually really like that but maybe we can revisit the idea again in two weeks? I want to make sure this is something you really want and not something your biology has dictated on you.”

“Okay, that sounds fair. I love you, Spence.”

“I love you too.”

Spencer’s laughter floating through the air brought you out of your reverie. A slight shiver passed through you—either from the wind or the imagery of him carrying Michael and holding hands with Henry on the other as they slowly made their way back to their mother.

You turned to face Emily, no doubt that the blush on your cheeks giving you away. “Maybe.”

“Huh,” she tilted her head slightly to the left—a subtle tick you’ve grown to read into.

“What?”

Shaking her head, she leaned in to clink her glass with yours and a teasing smile forming on her face. “Nothing. Well—you’re welcome, by the way. And as a thank you, what do you think about naming the maybe baby after me?” 

You laughed. The trio had taken full credit for bringing the couple together—something that they had always brought up like it was their greatest contribution to earth.

A layer of warmth was added to your shoulders and a faint scent of books and wood wafted to your nose. Tilting your head backwards, it was Spencer sans his black coat that was now adorning your body. His garment effectively marking you as an extension of him, as if the necklace around your neck with his initials 'SR' wasn't enough already. A priceless jewelry that had a partner with your own initials that found its home around his neck. “Hi love.”

“Hi sweetheart,” leaning down to give your lips a kiss. “You looked cold.” 

You were both wrapped up in your own little bubble to notice Emily’s eyebrows arching towards her hairline. “It won’t be long now, I guess. So how many?” 

“One would be cute—” your eyes never lingering on his face as if you were tracing the all his angles and memorizing all the stubbles that had started to grow on his jaw line. 

Spencer without further explanation continued on. “—two would be better.” 

“You know, you both have to stop finishing each other’s sentences, it’s getting creepy,” Emily quipped.

You both laughed, turning to face her, and although your gazes were no longer meeting, the gentle caress of his thumb on the back of your hand was enough to communicate everything and anything in between.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[mayaree-darling]

mastermind

from aree: The Harbinger Trailer has consumed me yall are getting a brainrot. (I made this when the trailer first came out and have never posted it so here it is).

tw for yandere content

Yandere!Harbingers with a "darling" who is the right hand of the Tsaritsa herself. Not a Harbinger, but nonetheless important because they're the main strategist of the Fatui. I can just imagine the pain for the Harbingers because although darling is within arms reach, they're not allowed to make a move lest they anger their ruler.

Childe who first sees you akin to a younger sibling amongst the Fatui - you're no underling, on par with a Harbinger in importance if not more, protected almost as much as the Archon Herself - it would be hard not to be protective of you. And yet as you fix his wounds after another fight he started, telling him off in place of Her Majesty, giving him tips on how he could've fought better in whispers in between, his growing need for your attention consumes him. When he kisses your cheek (as thanks, he says) in front of the other Harbingers he's already looking forward to you treating the injuries they're sure to beat into him.

Scaramouche who grins when the Harbingers bristle as you walk side by side in the halls of Zapolyarny Palace - he says you should consider it an honor to walk with him, and it inflates his ego when you reply with a small nod and a smaller smile. Behind the others' backs, he follows you like a lost child, always walking behind you, gripping on to the back of your clothes like you might slip away if he's not careful. He's obsessed with the way you look at him and ask him questions about his creation. He fails to see that the adoration you hold for him is as hollow as he is.

Signora wonders if you know when she is at her lowest, that would certainly explain things, wouldn't it? She thinks she has lost her mind when she sees glimpses of her lost love when turning corners too quickly, haunting her when she lets her guard down but then you're in front of her, greeting her with a soft smile that feels all too familiar and she realizes she has gone mad in other ways (she welcomes that newfound madness like the lover that it is, finally coming home).

Pantalone who believes that one of life's greatest pleasures is to own what others cannot - to collect the rare, the exquisite and the hard to obtain - and to have you, a person of great mind and ranking, be dangled right infront of him on a piece of gold thread held by the Tsaritsa, who was he to resist the urge to make you his? (after all, he deserves only the best) The longer he does not have you, the more your worth rises in his eyes.

Dottore who initially wants to pick apart your brain (quite literally) but his interest shifts and doubles when he reaches an epiphany that what he truly lacked from the Akademiya was someone who shared his intellect, a genius to match his own. Maybe you don't share his affinity for biology, but he loves the way your conversations keeps him on his toes (if you weren't a being close to perfection for him before, then you certainly are now.)

Arlecchino who watches as you care for the children in the orphanage, checking in on them even long after they've joined the ranks of the Fatui and compares it to the frigid ways of the other Harbingers. For the first time since being a part of this cold nation, she is envious of the warmth you give (why must you have so much love to share?) She thinks that should the day come she turns her back on this frigid country, she would surely take your hearth with her.

Marionette who finds herself being drawn to the way you move around a room and hold yourself up in front of people, marveling at the intricacies of each part of your body and the way they make up the being that is you (you could trip and fall and she'd still sigh in awe). Her fascination turns you from muse to future subject. Surely such a specimen must be preserved, right? Not to mention, there would be no greater honor than to turn the Tsaritsa's best into a perfect unchanging doll.

Damselette who usually goes quiet when you're in the same room as her, always eager to hear you talk, almost hissing when a Harbinger tries to speak over you. She finds your voice is the one in her head who speaks reason to her when she gets a bit out of control (Does she listen? No, but your voice is always ever so lovely). Wouldn't it be so nice if you're the lone voice she hears always, the same way you're already always in her thoughts?

Capitano who is thankful his mask covers the fond look he gets when you turn to him - not with fear like the lower ranking Fatui or haughty like the Harbingers - but as an equal, leveling him with a gaze that leaves him fooling himself that it means something more. He's less thankful for his mask when someone calls your attention away from him and he can't control the glare he sends their way (maybe if they saw the way he looked at them, they'd finally be put in their place).

Pulcinella is quick to put you in a pedestal - you are someone to be respected and someone to be kept at a distance. And yet as he watches the Harbingers fall deeper and deeper into obsession, he takes it upon himself to protect the Tsaritsa's favorite and the Fatui's brain from whatever his co workers are plotting. As he spends more time with you (making sure the others do not occupy all of your time), the pedestal he keeps you on crumbles until all he sees is another child to keep under his wing. He fails to see he has only fallen into a different hole as the rest.

Strategist!Darling who may pretend to be oblivious to the Harbingers' feelings but is actually letting it all happen to make sure they all stay under the Tsaritsa's rule one way to another.

Does Pierro know what you're doing? Maybe. It's not like he is blind to how the Harbingers act around you, subtle as they try to be. If you spend enough time with him, you might be able to tell that he enjoys watching you play the part of a fool, dancing around the others and making them dance for you, too. He might even step in once he thinks the other Harbingers are stepping out of line, but it all depends on what he gets out of sticking into your business.

I also like the dynamic where although the Harbingers cannot make a move to claim what is "their's", darling is just as trapped. Although they always sometimes want to leave, they know as much as anyone that the Tsaritsa is the only thing standing between them and the others. The moment they try to leave the Tsaritsa's side or they lose her favor, it's all fair game for the Harbingers.

Everyone is stuck in a stalemate until someone makes a misstep.

✨ Masterlist ✨ 

Taglist: 💛@anime-allover  💛@faeriessky  💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu 💛 @wonpielle

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[sweetchestnutdaydreams]

◤Unspoken Feelings◢

Character: Spencer Reid x Reader Genre: Fluff, Friends-to-Lovers-ish Word Count: 1,345 words Warnings: None for this one! Summary: Working late in the office with Spencer Reid has you battling your feelings for him, but when an innocent slip of the tongue turns into an unexpected exchange, you might just realize he feels the same way.

“You’re really pretty.”

“Hm?”

The words slipped through your lips without permission. You’re not sure if you’re happy that Spencer didn’t hear, or if you’re disappointed. His large, warm chocolate-colored eyes blink in your direction, his pen sliding dexterously from one finger to another. It catches your attention, as always, mesmerized by the way his long, slender fingers move with such skill. It should be a crime to have hands like that; it’s incredibly distracting.

“Nothing.” You shake your head and return to writing your report. It’s hard to find the right words, or even to remember the flow of the investigation, with the way his gaze burns through you.

“You sure?”

You nod vigorously and offer him a brief smile. Spencer hums, not entirely convinced, but lets the subject drop, much to your relief. You’ve been working together for a while now, and you’re very good friends—close enough to have spent several evenings at each other’s apartments. That’s given you plenty of time to realize that Spencer is a very, very pretty man.

No, you snort inwardly while erasing a misspelled word, you realized that the second you laid eyes on him. It didn’t take you months to figure it out, just the milliseconds it took for your eyes to communicate the vision to your brain.

And how could you not find him handsome? With his gorgeous curly hair, often messy, making you want to run your fingers through it, or his eyes that convey so much emotion it’s hard for you to maintain eye contact. And that’s without even mentioning the softness in his words and gestures, the gentle way his lips curve when you’re clumsy or ask a question, and the indulgent way he answers with his beautiful voice, sending pleasant tingles through your body every time.

Everything about him, you sincerely think, is breathtaking. It’s a shame, and embarrassingly comforting, that other women don’t seem to have noticed it. He’s not taken, and in your delusional mind, you tell yourself that maybe you still have a chance to move beyond the “best friend” category if you can just get over your fear of rejection.

It’s not so much the thought of not being good enough for what Spencer deserves that stops you, but the fear of forever changing your perfect relationship. Are you selfish enough to want more, even though you’re already in a comfortable position with Spencer that allows you to be close to him? It’s greedy of you, and you know it—risking everything for the chance to call him “boyfriend” instead of just “friend” seems ridiculous, pathetic.

A sigh escapes you as you run your hand along your face, trying to chase away the drowsiness and those intrusive thoughts. The back of your chair creaks as you lean against it, glaring at your report. You’re not sure what to blame for your lack of focus, which has kept you at your desk so late. Normally, you’d be home by now, eating ice cream after a long, steamy shower, brooding over your life choices—or the ones made by the characters in your TV show.

“Careful, you’re going to burn a hole through your report with that look.” Spencer’s voice startles you, and you momentarily forget he’s sitting right across from you. His eyebrow is raised, and the corner of his lips is curled into a small smile. “Are you sure you’re okay? Usually, it takes you two hours, fifteen minutes and—”

“Stalker,” you murmur under your breath, just loud enough for Spencer to hear, cutting him off mid-sentence.

He lets out a mock huff. “You’re the one who’s always staring at me.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you’re speechless for a few seconds. You know you’re not exactly subtle, your gaze drawn to the genius like second nature; but it’s another thing to have it pointed out to you. Spencer seems a little too proud of himself, chuckling just enough that you toss your pen at him. He dodges and throws one back at you—unlike him, you aren’t as lucky.

“Ouch,” you scrunch your nose as your hand flies to your forehead. “Intimidation!”

“Hey, you started it,” Spencer immediately retorts, feigning offense.

Your teasing continues for several minutes, enough to make you forget about the unfinished task still sitting on your desk. But it drains what little energy you had left, and you barely suppress a groan. The silence returns, this time broken by the creaking of Spencer’s chair and the rustling of fabric.

“Are you done?” you ask, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“Hm.” He grabs his satchel after putting on his coat. “We’re done for the night.”

“Uh—no?” You chuckle, tapping the polished surface of your desk. “My report isn’t even halfway finished.”

Spencer moves behind you, gently sliding your chair away from your desk before spinning you around toward him. You let out a surprised sound, your hands gripping the armrests before you shoot your friend an accusing look. He gives you that annoying smile, the one that unfortunately makes your knees weak and your breath catch.

“Uh—yes,” he responds, a bit more firmly than you’re used to, as he gathers your things and hands you your coat. “You can finish it tomorrow morning; there’s nothing urgent.”

“I hate putting things off until tomorrow.”

Your brows furrow, a pout on your face. Despite this, you still stand up, letting Spencer help you into your coat, buttoning it from the bottom up. His knuckles brush your cheeks as he straightens the collar, making sure your neck is shielded from the chilly breeze, every touch leaving a trail of fire on your skin.

“There’s no point in forcing yourself to finish tonight if you’ll just have to redo everything tomorrow.” Spencer’s voice is gentle, with that edge of indulgence that, from anyone else, might make your hair stand on end.

You roll your eyes as you walk toward the elevator. There’s no point in protesting—when Spencer gets like this, it’s nearly impossible to change his mind. And right now, his mind is set on driving you home for a good night’s sleep. He’s thought of everything, because when you reach the parking lot, you see his car is already running, and when he opens the door for you, you’re greeted by a wave of warmth.

The drive to your place is quiet. At this hour, there aren’t many cars, and the radio is turned down to the lowest volume, barely disrupting your conversation. It’s probably—scratch that, it’s definitely—the best part of your day. Just you and him, in the car, sharing what feels like an intimate moment.

“Thank you,” you say softly as he pulls up in front of your building.

You sling your bag over your shoulder and open the door. The temperature has dropped another notch since the start of the ride, and a shiver runs down your spine. You lean down to give Spencer a smile, which he returns cheerfully.

“It’s no problem. Want me to pick you up tomorrow morning?”

The offer makes your heart jump ridiculously. It’s not unusual for Spencer to pick you up in the morning and drop you off after work, especially after a big case like the one you’ve just wrapped up. But that doesn’t stop your body from reacting the way it does every time.

“If you don’t mind,” you say, biting your lip. It’ll give you the chance to stay in bed a little longer and enjoy more time with Spencer, without everyone else around or the horrors of your job looming over you.

“Of course not.”

You thank him again and close the door. As you turn to head toward the entrance of your apartment building, Spencer’s voice catches your attention. The passenger side window is rolled down, and he’s adjusted his head so you can see each other.

“Yes?”

“I think you’re pretty too, by the way,” he says casually, with a little chuckle.

Suddenly, it feels way too warm, and you almost trip as you make your way into the building.

[heckinconfusedparade]

Thinking about how Tails is technically being raised by Sonic.

Like, you have Tails, the child, he’s like 9 years old, 300 IQ, genius inventor who’s still learning and growing.

Then you have Sonic, the legal guardian, who’s like 16, fastest thing alive, free as a bird.

Sonic is very much a live your own way kind of person, and will support Tails on everything he does.

UNLESS THAT THING TAILS DOES IS UNHEALTHY OR DANGEROUS

Like, Tails is inventing, then something comes loose, and he goes “I can fix that in a few minutes! I just need to finish this first!” and suddenly Sonic is there telling him to do it now, because Tails would likely forget, and it could be bad news for him.

Skip out on a meal, or forget to eat something healthy at least once a day to keep the brain prower going? Sonic is there either reminding Tails and tailing him until he eats, or he infiltrates Tails’ kitchen to ensure he gets a warm nutritious meal instead of instant ramen. Sonic didn’t struggle to learn new recipes to keep a 4 year old healthy, just so the same kid can sabotage his health.

If Tails is injured and should be resting, you best believe Sonic is there taking care of him and making sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Sonic wonders how this kid is alive. Sonic wonders what made Tails this way.

He realizes the answer is in the house. It’s him. He’s raising the kid, teaching him about life, and this kid is soaking up everything like a super absorbent sponge.

Tails has the greatest cheerleader ever. Sonic is his hero, his best friend, brother, mom, dad, and picket fence. He’s more of a parent to him than his bio parents ever was!

So what if every day is an adventure? Tails learned how to love and embrace opportunity!

Sonic showed him that as terrifying as the world is, you can use that to your advantage and make something of it. Change won’t happen if you sit around and wait for it!

Sonic is not the perfect role model by any means. He’s still a kid himself, with no business raising one. But he loves that kid with all he has, and wouldn’t change him for the world.

[floyds-favorite-shrimp]

If Looks Could Kill

Deuce Spade x Fem!Yuu

Word Count: 1503

A lil spicy. Jealous/Rough Deuce!

More under cut!

“Shrimpy!” Floyd yelled, his sharp teeth on full display as he grinned. He threw his arm over Yuu’s shoulder, pulling her to him. She rolled her eyes, but didn’t try to pull away. Yuu had been on her way to Deuce and Ace, who were sitting together on the other side of the courtyard. Floyd intercepted her on her way. 

“Hello Floyd.” Yuu said, a small smile played on her lips as she politely engaged Floyd in conversation. His teal hair fell into his face as he stared down at her. “What’s up?”

“Skipping out on work, of course!” He exclaimed happily. “Hey, keep me entertained?” He hooked his fingers under her chin, forcing her attention onto him. 

“I think most people ask ‘keep me company?’” Yuu said, raising her eyebrow at him. His grin widened. 

“Ok, keep me company?” He asked her. She sighed.

Meanwhile, Deuce sat with Ace on a red, wooden bench. His hands were curled into fists, his nails digging into his palm as he looked on at Floyd and Yuu. His fingers were under her chin, and she wasn’t pulling away. Why wasn’t she pulling away?

“-uce?”

What could they be talking about?

“-euce?”

What could he possibly want with her? Deuce had watched their entire interaction. Yuu had started on her way towards them, only to be stopped by Floyd’s arm around her shoulder. Deuce wasn’t sure if he had ever gone from elated to upset so quickly before. Didn’t Floyd know that she was dating Deuce? Didn’t he know that Deuce wouldn’t give her up for anything? Not even to some tall, handsome, bad-boy like Floyd. And why was it suddenly bothering Deuce that he was an eel? Surely that should make him less attractive to Yuu?

“Deuce!” 

Deuce was finally brought back to  reality when Ace smacked him upside the head. He unclenched his fists, not realizing how tense he had been.

“Yeah- huh-wha?” Deuce sputtered out, turning his bright eyes to his ginger friend. 

“Bro, if looks could kill…” Ace trailed off, looking between Deuce and the pair across the yard. “Tell me you’re jealous without telling me you’re jealous.”

“I- I’m not jealous!” Deuce said, knowing it was quite possibly the biggest lie he had ever told. “Why would I be jealous?” He asked, slumping back against the bench and crossing his arms over his chest. He refused to look at Ace, but the frown on his face told Ace everything he needed to know. Ace smirked to himself, an idea popping into his mind so genius he was surprised a lightbulb didn’t form in midair above him. 

Yuu would have to thank him later.

“I don’t know if I could watch that, if I were her boyfriend.” Ace said, nodding his head in the general direction of the other two. “I mean, even I think he’s pretty hot. And I’m not really attracted to dudes.” 

“Wait-wha- I-I’m h-hot!” Deuce stuttered out, his eyes wide as he stared at Ace in disbelief. Ace had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“I mean sure.” Ace said, keeping his face so straight he momentarily considered a career in acting. “But you’re, what, like six-seven- inches shorter than him? And not nearly as chaotic.”

“Chaotic?” Deuce questioned, feeling a lump form in his throat.

“Well, yeah.” Ace continued. “That’s kind of the hot new thing, isn’t it? Girls are always attracted to the chaotic red-flags.” 

“Red flags?” Deuce asked again, his gaze distant as he looked onward, but focused on nothing.

“And you’re pretty much a walking green flag. Which is great, but not really as, uh, alluring.” Ace continued, his scarlet eyes screaming in amusement.

There was a moment of silence as Deuce’s brain slowly caught up to everything Ace had said. Chaotic? Red flag? Alluring? Deuce could do that. Deuce has done that. Where was his hair bleach!

He sprung up off of the bench, his bright eyes focused on one thing. On one person. 

“What are you-” Ace started to say, but he was cut off as Deuce took off. His long legs carried him quickly across the grass to Yuu. Ace watched him, shaking his head slightly.

“He’s too easy.”

“Excuse me.” Came a deep voice in Yuu’s ear. She jumped slightly, immediately recognizing it without having to look. She felt his hand grip her wrist, and Floyd dropped his finger from her chin. Yuu glanced back, surprised to see his eyes dark with anger.

She had never seen him angry like this.

“Uh, Deuce?” She asked, but instead of answering her he pulled on her arm and she stumbled towards him. His cyan eyes were locked with Floyd’s heterochromatic gaze. She could sense some kind of unspoken argument between them, and finally Floyd relented.

“This is no good.” He hugged. Alright, Shrimpy.” He said, his smile having turned into a frown. “I’ll see ya later.” He turned on his heel before walking off. Yuu watched him leave for just a moment before turning her questioning stare to Deuce. He glanced at her from the corner of  his eye, but as she opened her mouth to speak, he began to walk, pulling her by her wrist. The gesture was both rough, and exceedingly gentle. Yuu knew he would never hurt her, but that didn’t stop her from being exceptionally confused. 

They marched on in silence, Yuu always a step behind Deuce as he led her away from campus, and toward Ramshackle dorm. Yuu’s confusion only grew as he pulled her up the front steps and into the entryway.

“Grim?” Was all Deuce asked, not looking back at her as he asked. She stared at his broad shoulders as she answered nervously.

“Uh, getting food.” 

There was no way Deuce, her Deuce, would ever so much as raise his voice at her. So why was she so afraid that he was mad? She didn’t feel the need to swat Floyd away simply because she knew that Floyd didn’t have the emotional ability to get a crush. Did Deuce see things differently? Was he really that upset?

Deuce finally turned around to look at her. Their gazes met for a moment, but it felt like an eternity. His eyes were dark, but his signature gentleness remained. Yuu opened her mouth to speak, but before any words came out, Deuce had his hands wrapped around her upper arms, and her back pressed against the door. A small grunt of surprise left her, but that’s the only noise that could escape before her lips were captured in a rough kiss. 

Her thoughts scattered. Deuce moved his soft lips against hers even though it took her a moment to respond. This was definitely not what she was expecting. His grip moved from her arms to her hips, pulling her against him. Her arms looped his neck as Deuce nibbled on her bottom lip, causing her to gasp slightly, but it was just enough for him to slip his warm tongue between her lips. He massaged her tongue with his, and she felt her knees start to shake. She held onto him even tighter. 

He pulled away from her, but only to move his lips along her jaw and down her neck. Yuu tangled her fingers in his hair, tilting her head back to give him better access. She felt a sharp pain as he lightly bit down on her sensitive skin. His hands found their way under the hem of her shirt, his warm fingers gripping her hips. Her knees buckled as he continued to nip and suck on her neck. His hands moved to the back of her thighs, using the wall at her back to help lift her up and wrap her legs around his waist.

His lips moved to her collarbone, and across the top of her chest. When did he unbutton her shirt? How did she not notice?

“Deuce-what-” But he cut her off by slamming his lips back onto hers. She did not have the mental fortitude to make him stop. He had never touched her quite like this before. And as much as she loved his genuine kindness, she had to admit that she didn’t mind this side of him either. Maybe she could enjoy it, just for now…

The next day, Yuu had to wear a scarf with her school uniform. Her and Deuce were walking to class, hand-in-hand. Yuu was still dazed from the previous night (and the morning). She knew she would have to ask him about his shift in personality at some point, but the way he walked with his head high and her hand gripped tightly in his was enough to cause her to put it off for a little bit longer.

And then she caught a glimpse of Ace, with a wide smirk on his face as Deuce led her to their first class. She held his gaze, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

Ace, what the fuck did you do?

[yuwuta]

Is childhood friends to lovers with Satoru valid? ‼️

Fav trope tbh

ALWAYS VALID!!! best trope imo….. so many ways this could go with him……

one of the best things about a non-curse childhood friends to lovers au with satoru is the ability to explore the fact that he’s actually a genius and absolutely a loser, just a handsome and charming one so people overlook his loser-ish tendencies/he’s the nerd that makes being a nerd cool.... by all metrics you’re more “popular” than satoru is. you’re not a mathlete, you’re not in the chemistry club, you don’t make nationals at chess or judo, and you don’t spend your afternoons burying your head in a gameboy playing digimon; plus, you’re not nearly as insufferable as he is when it comes to interacting with other people. this doesn’t make satoru feel bad in any way, he always says he has to surround himself with the best people, and you’re proof of that; you’re pretty and smart and students and teachers like you and you’re his best friend—you’re proof that satoru is incredible. 

he blames you for why he ends up being so needy. you’re the one that stuck by him even when he was causing problems or starting fights or picking on smaller kids (his growth spurt is really. not good for anyone), you’re the one who pinched his ear and jabbed his side and told him to get his head out of his ass and made sure he wasn’t completely unbearable. you’re the one who remembered to bring a portable charger for his gameboy when you guys took trips into the city for the day, and you’re the one who kept playing for him when he was mid-battle but really had to use the bathroom. you’re the one who always answered his calls at ass o’clock in the morning when he needed to ramble about whatever, or couldn’t sleep, or was begging you to let him drag you downtown to some niche pop-up store opening because, “you don’t get it they’re releasing limited edition flavors of their best selling mochi! we HAVE to be in line three hours before hand if we want to get any!” he was supposed to just be a regular old loser, but you came along and gave him standards and friendship and intimacy and now you must reap what you’ve sewn, he is your responsibility now.

satoru doesn’t realize just how much you’ve spoiled him until college/grad school, when he thinks other people wanna hear him nerd out about his shows or games or hobbies and they only endure it because he’s ridiculously beautiful. he’s kinda slow to this pattern at first, but once he catches it, he flops onto your bed, lamenting about how his beauty is blinding and you see the true him. you tease him about how he’s technically admitting that you see him as ugly, and he borderline starts crying and weeping, and honestly he likes to mess with you, but he doesn’t know why he needs to hear you admit that he’s handsome out loud, but he doesn’t let it go until you’re laughing and giving up, “okay, okay, i’m kidding satoru. you’re a very pretty princess and your suitors should want your hand for your personality, too.” and if you thought satoru wasn’t normal before that, you were wrong; something in him short circuits that day and it takes him approximately three-business weeks of ruminating and pouting and running equations in his head and reading research papers on emotions and the brain and attraction and it doesn’t come to him until he’s in the middle of his lecture, and he stops spinning his pencil so abruptly and breaks it in half and says to himself, out loud, “i’m in LOVE with her??” true loser lover behavior. 

[i984]

My Thoughts Echoing Your Name | Part 4

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Warnings|: Afraid of commitment! Wednesday Addams, reader cried ugly, lame banters, author gave up-ish on writing from paragraph 3, Jealous! Wednesday Addams, lame-ass guy still exists.

|Summary|: Even after Wednesday Addams broke your heart, the ache for her is unbearably still there.

|A/n|: I struggled with this one, there's 5 different drafts until I decided to just type whatever comes in mind, and here you have it, a not-last-part of Burning Red. Next and final part is out!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Music.

It's coming from outside your window.

You strain your ears, and they manage to catch the all-too-familiar tune. It's frickin' Aerosmith blasting in the middle of the night.

Great. Now you look like an idiot from some cliche romantic comedy movie—tears streaming down your cheeks with snotty tissue papers scattered about your bedsheets, a pathetic teenager bawling their eyes out with a love song playing in the background.

Wednesday, the girl of your dreams, was never yours.

It feels funny. How you thought that after leaving Wednesday yet again for the second time that evening, you would finally find peace in the four walls of your dorm space. But instead, here you are, throat hoarse, eyes stinging, chest ragged, nose sniffling, and some psycho has decided to interrupt your much-needed de-stressing session.

The universe must hate you.

You plop down your bed while your eyelids close, drowning in the all-consuming black void while the faint chord of music continues to play. A sound escaped your lips. A defeated chortle. It sounded so weak that you were almost sure it hadn't come out of you, the voice so uncharacteristic of your usual relaxed, carefree laughter.

Memories of your latest cafe commotion flash through your mind, and you feel your heart sinks and touch your diaphragm.

Is this it? Have you been reduced to a heartbroken pathetic fool? The obnoxious images assault your brain, and you scream into your pillow as you give in to the torture, mind re-living the appalling incident at Weathervane.

"Whoa, who are you?" the man across from you and Wednesday asked, his trunk no longer attached to the sofa booth, legs standing up hurriedly at Wednesday's intimidating display.

Wednesday pulls the side of your body closer, both your hips bruisingly pressed to each other as she speaks, "I believe I should ask you the same question."

You squirm under Wednesday's tight grip, unable to decide if you should break free or admit defeat and stay at your place. You chose the latter, partly to assess the situation but also because you've stupidly missed her touch, despite how much you wish to smack the face of the girl standing beside you.

The man's face contorts into confusion before his brows shoot up and his mouth gapes, finally coming to an irksome realization.

"You- you're that outcast from the freak school, right?"

Wednesday, a freak, though she wasn't the only one.

"Your obviously puny brain might want to try coming up with something a little more descriptive than that."

The man ignored Wednesday's insult, finger now raised to point at the raven-haired girl. "No, yeah, I remember you. You're that crazy girl who played cello while the ceremony caught fire."

He takes a small step back from the two of you, the tissue paper in his hand now crumpled. "They said you were the one who staged it all."

"I have to say, the town's people here might not be too dense after all," came Wednesday's haughty reply, and you're starting to get sick of the pointless banter displayed.

The man turns his face to you, "We should go, like now."

You didn't move from your spot—or rather you can't. Wednesday's arm wraps around you more firmly, and you don't know if you hate the feeling of it; the hint of possessiveness in the gesture offers sweet promises and false hope.

Wednesday, the black dahlia that will be the death of you.

It doesn't take a genius to find out, so the next words that come out of the man's mouth are no surprise.

"Wait, you know this girl?" the person you've yet to learn their name asked, and when you didn't answer, he took another step back, his hands now coming up to pull on the base of his hair in horror.

"I can't believe you're friends with this psychopath," and you feel your stomach churn at the man's words. Not at his obviously condescending tone or the sudden behavior change but at the word he chose to use.

Wednesday, a friend. Is that how he sees the two of you?

Even a stranger seems to think this, so could it be true? Oh, how you want to say no because friends don't act this way. They don't get upset about dates; they don't go on those. The romantic kinds, at least.

Their hearts don't hammer against their chests, not when they hold each other's hands so tight they can feel the blood rush under their skin.

They don't swap spit and shove their tounges down each other's throats, and they won't get upset if one of them says that it's all that is. A kiss. After all, friends can kiss each other, right?

But most importantly, they don't get upset when strangers think they're indeed friends.

Wednesday now feels like a foe, and you know you've lost.

"But we're not friends, are we?" You finally turn your head to look at Wednesday's face, and when you see whatever cryptic expression she's got on her front, you lose all hope.

"We're nothing," your voice shakes in defeat, and your free hand tries to pry Wednesday's arm off you, "so I shouldn't have been upset."

"We're nothing," you lift the fingers gripping your hips tightly one by one, "you were right, and I was wrong."

"We're nothing," you look at her previously cold hand that now desperately holds yours, and you wonder if this may be the last time you'll ever get the chance to touch her, "so you should let me go."

You pull your hand to your side forcefully. The cold and the warmth were no more; it was just you.

"So I should go."

The cafe's doorbell chimes, and you leave Wednesday and the stranger behind you, not daring to look back at them, at her.

Because maybe if you do, you'll see that tears have stained her face just like yours have, and you don't know if you'll survive with the sight burned to your brain.

Wednesday, now a ripped page of the book you wish you could burn.

You open your eyes, and the light frays them, making your brows furrow as you groan into the room. The music was no longer there. Gone. Only deafening silence kills your heart and robs your soul. You feel so painfully alone.

Breathing in the air, you look up and see spiders making webs on your ceiling. They dance, weaving more web out, painting beautifully intricate patterns bit by bit.

Your mind calms down, the bitter thoughts now replaced with a name, and your mind holds to it and repeats it like a mantra.

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

You want to see her.

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

You want to feel her.

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Your heart calls out her name.

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Oh, you miss her.

"Wednesday." Your voice calls out her name; a knock answers.

[shishuri]

Ive been rewatching Vision of Escaflowne (because youtube algorithm compelled me to).. ohh boy.. watching the anime with adult brain you realize a lot of things you probably missed when you watched it when you were a child

Ex.

Allen was 21 in the anime, and Millerna and Hitomi were 15.. it gave me big ick whenever one of those two flirts with him. And every time he kiss one of them i keep saying "15, Allen, get away).

When i was a kid i did wonder about the Dilandau/Celena situation, specially what goes on down under.. i mean Dilandau is suppose to be male so does Celena grows the matching parts too.. I realize now that Dilandau is probably a split personality for Celena to cope with whatever experiments were done to her, the experiments probably just enhanced Dilandau's presence. Because at the end Jajuka told Celena that its ok to turn back to the gentle Celena. And that is way sadder than what i thought when i was a kid and also what the hell was i thinking 😂

Dilandau was a major jerk, i never thought of it before but he was so abusive with his subordinates and now i wonder why those guys are so loyal to him.

Duke Freid is based af, he is the father who stepped up. He knew, he fucking knew that Chid wasnt his but he acknowledged him, loved him, took care of him and even trusted the future of the Duchy to him. He didn't care about Marlene's former lover, and the fact that she still chose him in the end, I am 100% sure this man is a green flag.

Chid was swole at 5 yrs old. This little man was able to carry a huge ass sword twice his size to present to the zaibach empire for their treaty. Either that shit was not as heavy as it looks, there is magic shenanigans involved or Chid was swole af. Also, for a 5 yr old he speaks like he's 10. Either he is a genius or children in Gaea age faster or the author never met a 5 yr old.

To this day i am still upset that Van and Hitomi never really got together in any media made (manga, anime, movie), Hitomi will always end up going home, now i am more upset that Allen got to kiss Hitomi and Van only got a goddamn hug at the end.. I want my farewell kiss at the very least.

Since Van is a king he may still need to be married to have heirs to continue the Fanel bloodline. However, if he was responsible enough and realized that he shouldn't have kids to avoid the Draconian bloodline to be passed on and possibly repeat the same problem he had with Escaflowne. I know he wanted Escaflowne to never be used again, but shit can still happen and may inevitably be needed to be used again. If who inherits the throne is not very strict in Fanelia, this should be fine.

What the actual hell was Asturia's power hierarchy. The king had 3 daughters, supposedly, the first born should be the heir, but he sent her off to marry into the Duchy of Freid, but the duchy doesn't seem to be part of Asturia, so it's probably a duchy of another country. The next in line should be Eries, but when the king couldn't do his job after Zaibach attacked Asturia, Dryden was in-charge and he married the Mallerna the 3rd princess, and even before that Dryden assumes or maybe told that he will be king when he marries Mallerna. Even in a 90s anime there was a middle child syndrome. I didn't care about this when I was a kid, but somehow it bothered me now. Justice for Eries (the forgotten middle child).

Dryden was actually a green flag.. i think when i was a child I didn't like him for whatever reason. But now I realize that he isn't so bad. Aside from marrying a 15 yr old (he was 21, according to wiki), but that's Royal marriage for you, unfortunately. Besides the ick when he flirts with Mallerna. He bought a mermaid to set it free, paid the repairs for Escaflowne (the price of his main ship), helped Asturia during the war, and he wanted to wait for Mallerna to choose him.

Escaflowne has a "click here to call the Repair guy" mechanism in it. Literally, they can call the Ispano and they'll come right away whenever, wherever if they need it repaired 😂. Top notch Customer Support service. Nowadays, if you call the repair guy it might take 5-7 business days.. that's being generous.

I still dont understand Folken's motive to destroy Fanelia.. he is literally the first born of the king of Fanelia, he can open Escaflowne, he could have just returned with a dragenergist and claim his right to the throne to get Escaflowne before Van's coronation. But instead he let Van claim Escaflowne and had Fanelia destroyed. It could be argued that Van needed to take Escaflowne. But at the start the target was just "the dragon" Escaflowne, not Van.

I also still dont understand why Zaibach needed to wage war and it was necessary for the Zone of Absolute Fortune. Of course everyone's wishes will be tainted with their thoughts of war, that was the last thing they were doing, their adrenaline is still working overtime. They haven't sat to think what is going on so of course they would unintentionally wish for the fight to continue, they were still on survival mode.. i think they would have a different result if the Zone was activated when everything was peaceful. Did they need the situation to be dire?

Dornkirk is Isaac Newton. Lol

By the way, the way Dornkirk described what happened when he arrived in the Zaibach Empire.. bro was having a major god complex, "sent there to save these people" like sir.. you end up there cause you wished hard enough.

I kinda missed animes having a bit meta in it with their opening and ending songs.. ex. The opening song for Vision of Escaflowne is the tune in Marlene's music box.

[helpfandom]

Yandere TAS! Riddler x Platonic Reader

Hcs under cut. If you're my bestie who told me to do this: <3

Reader just doesn't care in this one, they have been transformed by the Gotham-ite lifestyle of don't care, and as such, is a snarky little bitch to Riddler. Brat is in loose terms.

Why would he take interest you, well... He took interest because you were one of the few who didn't care for his antics, and were one of the fewer who could go toe to toe to him that weren't an enemy. Well, honestly, you didn't care about what he did and went on with your day, and with all that goes on in Gotham, how could you not?

The next part is that in order to get him to not interact with you, you would be a stupid little 'brat'. God, you were slightly insufferable to be around when Riddler would try to antagonize you. "Riddle me this, Riddle me that, why are you such a big 'brat'?"

He's definitely hacked into cameras to watch you interact with people, and once he found out that you interact with people differently than him, he takes it to heart, but in the way that he finds delight in you being a 'brat' to him. He notices that you only are that way to him, If you're only a brat to him, surely that means you're comfortable with him! ...Right?

Despite being 'super intelligent', Riddler is quite unperceptive about the fact that Reader dislikes/hates him. To you, this is just some weirdo on the street who likes to bombard people with riddles and take over Wall street for revenge. But soon you start to notice that he attacks more towards places you go to frequently and even people who, to your knowledge, haven't interacted or offended him. Of course, to him, interacting with his kid is a major offense, so he attacks your parents and friends, even a couple teachers who he thinks aren't teaching you well enough. "My, My, You simply don't have the brains for teaching my dear adolescent, perhaps I should remove it? Hmm?"

Because Reader can go 'toe to toe' with him [most of his riddles have multiple answers that he doesn't realize and when Reader points them out, he takes that as a sign of intelligence, and Reader being able to keep up with his 'genius'], he assumes that Reader has intelligence that can only match his, and as such, he must fuel this potential intelligence. [He means adopt you].

He definitely tries to kidnap you a lot, but with how much he has done schemes related to you, Batman (and maybe Robin if you're friends) already know and stop him.

Although, if he were to kidnap you, he would set up cameras everywhere THAT DOESN'T INTRUDE ON PRIVATE SPACE. So nothing in your bedroom or the bathroom. Everywhere else is free game though. Escape is possible, but unlikely, because of his many cameras and intelligence.

Although, he would fake the idea of an escape in order to test your intelligence, he would put a series of puzzles (Not riddles) and if you solve them all, he congratulates you. He finds a small bit of selfish pleasure in watching you fail to escape, and he thinks that escaping is a game for him, a fun thing for you to challenge his brain.

Absolutely has no idea how to take care of a kid though, so you're screwed if you're super young and don't know how to take care of yourself.

"Listen well, my dear adolescent. I will act as your father figure now. The rest of the society is too,, unintelligent to take care of minds like our own. I will hone your mind until we create father/kid pair the world has never seen!"

"Bro literally, I don't care, your riddles are stupid. Shut up."

"Oh, how I enjoy our banter."

[simplyholl]

Although I was a constant lurker for months, today marks my one year as a Loki writer. It has been so fun whoring out with all of you. There have been too many laughs to count. By some miracle, I’ve reached a little over 1,000 followers. I’m shook that so many of you are interested in partaking in my wildest fantasies. But I am so thankful for all of you. If you have read, liked, commented, or reblogged anything - thank you from the bottom of my heart! I love reading every wild thing you have to say about these scenes I’ve created.

Sometimes I will just sit there and read your comments over and over in complete shock that my words would elicit such responses. I am so thankful for our little corner of the internet where we can unashamedly be ourselves. We all have different backgrounds, cultures, and lives but we can all agree we just want our favorite god to dick us down.

I’ve made lifelong friends from doing this, and I would’ve never met them otherwise.

@lokisgoodgirl Thank you for giving me the kick in the cooch I needed to start posting my writing. I would have none of this, if it wasn’t for you. Your words of encouragement mean everything to me. Thank you for being my tech expert for the first little bit. I would never give anyone else my login info. You’ve helped me get through some of the toughest times of my life and I am forever grateful for your friendship. I love listening to your voice notes. Your “Good morning” always puts a smile on my face. I hope we can meet in person one day, although I can’t promise that I would keep my hands to myself. I love you endlessly.

@wheredafandomat I only met you at the end of January, but it feels like I have known you my whole life. Is it possible for two people to share the same brain? Because I’m sure that we do. You can make a 2 hour phone call feel like 5 minutes. I’m lucky to have you in my life. My frequent collaborator and birthday twin - I love you so much.

I couldn’t think of a celebration that I wanted to do, but I wanted to share some of my favorite comments over the course of my time on here.

#burdened with a glorious manhood

-@coldnique

The threat to use his vibranium hand to do the choking was just the cherry on top of my death day cake. This is a filthy masterpiece

- @joyful-enchantress

Well spank me sideways, this went from O-deranged in 2.5 seconds AND I'M NOT MAD ABOUT IT

- @thedistractedagglomeration

Ohhhhhh he talks her out of her hero panties and in to his heart

- @cakesandtom

"sit on his face darling" l'm not gonna survive another paragraph I swear to god.this is too much in the best way

- @lokisgoodgirl

The thought of being an avenger and having Loki fuck you senseless is stupid hot, but add into it him talking about making you carry his secret sex baby and still be an avenger is 🔥🔥🔥

- @itsybitchylittlewitchy

Take that you little shit! I am so glad he saw them together and still mounted at that!

- @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed

I mean it's a fitting description after all the devil is tempting and so is Lokis dick

- @fictive-sl0th

You had me at President Loki and biting!

- @marygoddessofmischief

should have really realized that it was you, my dear, who wrote this!

- @smolvenger

I don't need legs, l'll just drag myself around.

- @goblingirlsarah

Spelling his....spelling his name.. ☠️☠️

- @lokisgoodgirl

absolute genius. i read the part about considering staying with him even if just for the sex and i was like "YOU GO Y/N GO GET THAT MULTIVERSAL ASGARDIAN DICK"

- @muddyorbsblr

Yeah Narfi you little bitch. Take that!

- @wheredafandomat

This was so naughty!!! When the vacuum fell and he was like, "fuck it" then continues to pound you harder!!! ���🥵🥵

- @mochie85

I neeeed a tall Loki to be my coworker for the job I don't have so he can fuck me in the storage closet

- @wheredafandomat

The best part of waking up is Bucky & Loki in your cup!! WAY better than Folgers.

- @km-ffluv

IT WAS PHENOMENAL. would have tears in my eyes with how proud I am if I wasn't so horny

- @lokisgoodgirl

Just for fun,

If anyone wants to give it a re-read, here’s the first fic I posted.

Snowed In

And this is actually the first thing I wrote

Across the Multiverse

It’s been a great year. I can’t wait to share more horny, unhinged, wild fantasies with you in the next one.

All my love,

-Holly 💚🖤

[nobodysdaydreams]

✨My Unhinged Visions for the TMBS Kids’ Villain Arcs: ✨

Based on this poll, and this post by @kaslynspeaks and @sophieswundergarten. They activated the brain bees, and you can blame them for this.

Warning: Insanely long post. I go through each kid individually, discuss a premise for their fall to villainy, and then I give you a hastily written scene which I did not proofread, that probably contains typos and misspellings. Some are longer than others, some end abruptly, some are a lot darker than others, but they all have happy endings so you're welcome for that at least.

I also kept it vague whether I was talking about the book or show characters so while I draw on elements from both, you can imagine most of these with either character.

Please enjoy!

I'll start with Kate Wetherall.

The Premise:

I picture her as a teenager or young adult for this. Her villain arc is pretty brief tbh, but I think that fits Kate. She'd impulsive and emotional and maybe even the most likely to go dark the quickest for those reasons, but she also has strong morals, and I don't think she'd fall very far, and I also think she might be the most likely to turn around.

Here's the scenario. The society has won, and now they've started working together to take down bad guys.

Kate loves it, but she starts getting carried away sometimes. Seeing men that are willing to hurt children the way that she was hurt sets something off in her. Sometimes she takes things too far, or acts impulsively in the heat of the moment. The others protest this, insisting that Kate only needs to use enough force to stop other criminals, not harm them.

Kate feels frustrated, not only because she feels like her friends are criticizing her, but also because this is what she's good at. She's the one who fights. Why should she hold herself back when the others can use their intellect to their full potential?

The others don't realize how much of this is connected to Kate's inner turmoil, her feelings of frustration. They simply remind her that "that's not how they do things."

But maybe it should be, thinks Kate.

Maybe it would send a message. Not just to the criminals but to the children they hurt. To let those children know that someone cared to make sure that the people who hurt them paid for what they did. So that they wouldn't feel abandoned. So that they wouldn't feel how Kate always felt.

So she works in secret. She couldn't bear another condescending lecture from her father or the others. I picture her leading a sort of vigilante circus themed squad. They're all strong and athletic, obviously, but they're also incredibly creative. Whatever a bad guy's fear is, they can use illusions, contortion, and all sorts of creepy imagery to make it come to life. To make them pay for what they did. To break them, to reduce them to nothing.

And Kate as a leader finally feels respected, valuable. For once, she isn't told to hold back her impulsiveness, her emotions, her abilities, her creativity. In fact, she's praised for her lack of restraint. And she tells herself she doesn't need to feel bad either because after all, these are the bad guys. They deserve it.

But eventually the others find out. Kate tells them there's no point in another lecture, but this time, they don't lecture. They don't even know what to say.

Because they're horrified. They're horrified that Kate could ever think that punishing people like this, criminals or not, is a suitable use of her talents. Kate reminds them that they always got to use their intelligence to their full potential whenever it suited them.

And now, the scene (picture this occurring in a circus themed lair. Idk just role with it. Brain tired):

"I was the one who was too much," Kate reminded him.

"You three were the brilliant ones. The psychic, the scholar, the genius. But me? I was just the muscle. The "creative" one. The impulsive one. The liability," she scoffed.

"My talents were only useful when they were directed by my intellectual superiors. What you wanted. What you planned. But here? Here I'm a leader, Reynie. I get results and I get justice my own way. And I'm not interested in hearing another lecture about acting impulsively, or going too far, or about how all of your know so much better than I do. So save it."

"Fine!" snapped Constance. "Then we'll spare you the lecture, if you want to skip straight to the fighting."

Kate paused, and the look of betrayal in her eyes was evident.

She thought they might be here to lecture or disapprove of her methods, but had they...had they really come here to...to...

Kate shook her head.

"I don't want to fight you. And even three against one, was all know that would hardly be a fair fight."

Sticky winced and held himself back from the overwhelming urge to nervously polish his spectacles, remembering how many times he'd watched his friend take down men (grown trained men) like it was nothing.

Constance, still bitter from Kate's deception, raised her fists.

"I'd still take those odds."

"Constance-" cautioned Reynie, but it was already too late.

"Very well," said Kate.

Her followers stepped forward to assist her, but Kate motioned for them to step back.

"Trust me," she said to them. "I appreciate the offer, but I can take handle this one on my own."

The others knew that wasn't a lie.

Kate raised her own fists and addressed the trio.

"You always thought your minds made you so much better than me, so let's see how well you can actually do without me. Good luck. You'll need it. Even if I do intend to go easy on you."

"Katie-Cat?"

Kate groaned.

"This is none of your concern."

"I should say that it is," her father replied, stepping out from the shadows to confront his daughter. "Considering I raised you better than this."

"Raised me?"

Milligan immediately realized his mistake.

"Katie-Cat, I-"

"Didn't mean to leave me?" Kate snapped. "I know Dad. I know you didn't mean to. No, you just chose a dangerous job working for a dangerous man and put your own life at risk, when you knew your child had no one else but you."

The hurt in her father's eyes made Kate regret her words, but only for a moment.

After all, it's not as if what she said wasn't true.

"I'm sorry," said Milligan earnestly, realizing perhaps for the first time how much his child was still hurting.

How much she'd been lying every time she said that she was fine. How much she'd been hiding her pain from him, from everyone.

"It wasn't fair to you. I promise, I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you."

"Really?" said Kate. "Well then. I suppose there is something you can do for me."

"Anything Katie-Cat," said Milligan softly, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Stay out of my way," Kate ordered, looking her father directly in the eyes, doing her best to look tall, strong, and intimidating.

Milligan's face hardened slightly. He knew that look. It was a look he'd seen in his daughter's eyes before, her fearsome determination, her resolve not to back down.

It was normally one of the traits that he admired most about her.

"I can't do that Katie-Cat," he replied, seriously but still with a tone of affection in his voice.

"I love you too much to let you waste your talents and potential like this."

Kate laughed.

"Of course you do," she replied, gesturing for her followers to step forward.

"It looks like I might need some help after all. But try to go easy on them," she advised her followers. "Most of them aren't trained fighters and their biggest crime is shortsightedness. Hardly worth our best or most painful efforts."

"Don't fight them," interrupted Milligan. "They don't need to fight this. Just you and me."

Kate eyed him suspiciously.

"You hurt your leg last month," she reminded him. "You're not in peak fighting condition. If this is some kind of trick-"

"It isn't," replied Milligan. "You and me. If you win, we'll let you keep your operation and leave the decision up to you. If I win, you end this."

Kate's face became thoughtful, carefully considering his offer.

"Uh Milligan," interjected Sticky. "I know that you're pretty well trained, but you were just injured, most doctors wouldn't recommend-"

"Deal," said Kate, charging forward without warning, as Milligan side stepped.

It was hard to tell who had the upper hand. Milligan was stronger and had a clear height advantage, but he was still recovering from his injury and Kate was faster, and more flexible.

They held nothing back, but still neither of them succeeded in doing much damage, mostly because the skill with which they dodged the other’s attacks was just as impressive as the fighting techniques they employed.

"Tired old man?" she asked.

"Oh believe me," said Milligan. "I haven't even started yet."

They fought for hours, until at last Kate found something else that gave her the upper hand.

Environmental knowledge.

One of the circus' tricks was a series of platforms that were triggered to fall when you stood on them for a certain amount of time. They sent the performers falling to either be caught by a fellow trapeze artist or (worst case scenario) fall into one of the safety nets.

It was simply a matter of cornering her father onto one of the platforms, and removing the bridge.

"The fall is too far, and we haven't put the net out," Kate reminded him.

"You lost. Surrender."

Milligan looked down for a moment, judging the distance, then he looked back up at his daughter.

"No," he replied.

Kate was confused.

"What do you mean no?" she asked.

"I mean no," Milligan replied. "The fight's not over until it's over. I don't surrender."

"I'm not putting the bridge back," Kate reminded him. "Whatever trick this is, I'm not falling for it. Don't be stupid."

Milligan stood firm.

So did Kate. They were both stubborn. Like father, like daughter.

The seconds ticked by.

"20 seconds," Kate reminded him.

"Milligan we'll find another way!" Sticky yelled. "Just surrender, it's not worth it."

"This is my daughter," Milligan replied. "She'll always be worth it."

Kate scoffed.

"15 seconds," she announced.

Milligan didn't respond.

Kate still waited. Her father was fast. He only needed a few seconds to make it back in time, and would no doubt run out the clock.

10 seconds.

9 seconds.

8 seconds.

Kate groaned. Of course he would play it like this.

She walked over to the bridges control panel and pressed the emergency stop button.

It wasn't working.

Kate felt as if her heart had stopped.

"It's not working," she whispered.

"Kate it's your dad!" yelled Reynie. "You won! You won okay? Just press the button, put the bridge back!"

"It's not working," she yelled, the panic rising in her voice.

4 seconds.

"DAD-" she yelled, turning to her father, the father she'd missed for so long, the father she loved, the father she didn't want to lose again.

2 seconds.

"I love you Katie-Cat."

0 seconds.

The platform dropped.

And so did Milligan.

And so did Kate, diving after her father, clinging to him tightly as if that could somehow save him.

The others surrounded them as soon as they landed.

Kate was mostly undamaged, Milligan had broken her fall.

But he wasn't moving, wasn't responding.

"Dad?" Kate whispered, tears in her eyes.

"Dad I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I-please don't go. Please. I can't lose you again."

Kate reached down and hugged her father.

"You won," she whispered. "You won okay? Just please come back. I love you."

At once, Kate felt her father sit up and wrap his arms around her, wrapping her in an embrace that even she could not escape from.

"Victory," he announced, looking down at his daughter.

"And I love you too Katie-Cat. I'm sorry for the dramatics. I assumed you'd be able to put the bridge back in time, but it's always nice to have a plan B."

"What-" said Kate, who was too relieved to see her father alive and well to be upset that she had been tricked.

"But, but the fall-"

"I've fallen before," Milligan reminded her. "From greater heights than this. You get better at falling the more you practice. Just uh...don't tell Mr. Benedict. Or Number Two. Or Rhonda...perhaps it would also be wise not to mention this to Miss. Perumal."

Kate sighed.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just got tired of your criticisms."

"We didn't mean to sound critical" said Reynie. "I'm sorry you felt that way. But you were never a liability. You're our friend, and we need you."

The others nodded.

Kate sighed again and smiled.

"I need you guys too," she admitted, as her friends joined in hugging her.

------------

And now for Constance Contraire.

The Premise:

I picture her being pretty young in this, but not too young, teen years at the most. The story here is that Constance succeeds in destroying the Whisperer and saving the day.

But this time, it leaves her mind damaged, seriously damaged. So damaged that her powers become uncontrollable and scary. Some government researchers offer to help Constance, but Mr. Benedict, suspicious of their intentions, turns them away. Nicholas vows to protect Constance, insists that they will figure out what's wrong, that they will help her, but then one day Constance ends up hurting him on accident, basically incapacitating and nearly killing him. At this point, there isn't much left to do, accepting outside help is the only option. The others promise to visit Constance and make sure she's taken care of and happy until Mr. Benedict recovers.

They never get the chance. Something goes wrong, and the story is that Constance is on the loose and dangerous, causing out of control destruction and physical harm. The police and government agents try to bring her in several times, but all end up hospitalized from the encounter. The society seeks Constance out, and they eventually find her hideout.

The Scene:

"Why are you here?" demanded Constance.

"What do you mean "why are we here?"" asked Kate.

"We're here to bring you home Connie girl."

Constance scoffed.

"Connie Girl."

They always acted like this. Like she was still a tiny defenseless child. Even though she was now older than the others had been when she'd first met them, they still acted as if they were her older siblings.

Or at least, they did with their words. But their body language sent an entirely different message. They stayed on the other side of the room, not daring to approach her, not daring to put their arms around her like they would have done before.

"You're afraid of me," she observed.

"Constance, we care about you!" Reynie protested.

"That doesn't mean you're not afraid."

Reynie didn't answer. There wasn't much he could say.

They'd all seen what she could do. And Reynie had never been a good liar.

"We just want to talk to you."

"We're talking now," observed Constance.

"Not here," said Kate. "Not in some secret lair or hideout where you've hidden yourself away."

"Where then?"

"Home. Your home."

For a moment, they can see it. The longing in Constance's eyes.

Home.

She quickly puts that aside.

"Right," she responds. "Home. Where the government will no doubt be waiting to take me away again."

"What? No!" Sticky exclaimed. "Constance, we would never let that happen! Mr. Benedict would never let that happen!"

Mr. Benedict.

She disregards the name and the emotions that come with it.

"And yet, it's happened before," she replied.

"You even let them take me.”

Her friends hung their heads and looked away at the reminder of their guilt, the unbearable weight that they would forever carry with them.

“They told you what I did to them. But do you have any idea what they did to me?” asked Constance.

“What they put me through? The things they made me do?"

"We thought they could help you Constance," said Reynie. "You were scared and in pain, and they offered help, and we wanted to help you. We didn't know...if we had known-"

"You would have stopped them?" asked Constance. "How? By asking nicely? And would you really have let me stay with you? After knowing what I could do to you?"

"We would have figured it out," Reynie insisted. "We're a family."

Constance laughed.

"Family? Gosh Reynard, you always were so childishly sentimental. It's a terrible weakness of yours"

Sticky and Kate briefly glared at Constance on their friend's behalf, but Reynie could hear the pain behind his little sister's insult.

He took a small step forward.

"Constance please-"

"Get away!" Constance barked, a hint of panic in her voice as she took a step backward.

"You know what will happen. Don't be stupid. Just leave. It's what's best for everyone. I'm a monster now. I'm only going to hurt you. And deep down, you all know it."

"Constance?"

The voice came from behind her. Constance didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

The others were immediately horrified. They'd told him not to come; he'd promised not to come, for his own safety.

But they should have known better. Nicholas would not be kept from his daughter.

"Dad?" Constance whispered weakly, then silently chastised herself for having spoken aloud.

She refused to turn around.

Nicholas still hobbled towards her. Constance could feel his mind. Still split, shattered from what she'd done to him, but slowly healing. And his emotions towards her...pain, lots of emotional pain, but no anger. No, there was something else, something far more powerful.

Love.

The others warned Mr. Benedict back, but he ignored their warnings. He wouldn't be deterred. His daughter needed him.

He limped over and knelt down, as best he could for an injured man so that he could address his child.

"Constance," he whispered. "Look at me please."

Constance turned away and shook her head.

"Please," her father whispered.

"I-I can't," she responded, a tiny tear rolling down her cheek as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Nicholas looked at her sadly, but affectionately, as if she was the most precious thing in the entire world.

And to him, she was.

"Oh...oh my dear Constance-"

"You should go," she ordered, pushing her father away.

"Go now. Or I'll hurt you again. I'll hurt them too," she threatened, but there was no malice behind her words. Only fear, fear that her threats might not be empty promises.

Nicholas ignored his daughter’s threats.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

He could feel her emotions in his mind. His daughter's power, too great and uncontrollable for her tiny body, made so much worse and so much stronger by what she'd been subjected to. Her power radiated from her mind, seeping outward and infecting every mind it came in contact with.

Nicholas let it come. In fact, he embraced it fully. The pain didn't matter. If that was the price he had to pay to keep his child safe and let her know that she was loved and forgiven, then that was a price he would gladly pay.

"Oh Constance," he whispered, as the tiny girl collapsed into a puddle of tears. "There's nothing you could do that would stop me from loving you."

--------------

Now for Sticky Washington.

This is largely inspired by @sophieswundergarten's amazing fics and posts about Sticky and his anxiety. I can't possibly link all of them, so if you're not following her and reading her fics, that's your own personal problem, and I pity you.

Sadly, I didn't write a reunion scene between him and his aunt or the Washingtons for this, because I wanted it to kind of work for the book or show versions of the character, but please know that in the full version of the fic that exists only in my brain, Sticky does reconcile with his family.

The Premise:

Sticky is older in this, an adult, maybe 20s or 30s. The story is that even after the Whisperer, after Curtain, the nightmares, the anxiety, it still haunts him. He can't get over it, but at the same time, he doesn't want to burden his friends, he can't burden them.

So he distances himself. He doesn't want to, but the voice inside him tells him that this is for the best. He would only burden them; he would only weigh them down. The others aren't sure why he's doing this, but assume it's because he wants his space and they try to respect that.

The anxiety, the fear, the flashbacks, it all gets worse. Finally, Sticky can bear it no more. So he does the unthinkable.

He builds his own version of the Whisperer. Not to control people. Just to calm his anxiety. And maybe, as the show version of Sticky says "[...] put good thoughts into people's heads. Make them feel happy." Nothing intrusive, nothing exploitive, nothing selfish. Just things like advising people to wear a seatbelt when they drive, and use dangerous equipment properly, and basically anything else that's unsafe or would make Sticky nervous. After all, what's the harm in that? He's making the world safer. And it's not like his old friends would care enough to bother with him.

But that's where he's wrong. The society detects the machine's influence, and they know it's not Curtain. They don't want to believe that it's Sticky, even when the evidence points to him. But eventually, they have no choice but to accept the truth and confront him.

The Scene:

Sticky looked up at his visitors from behind his desk. His office was nice, not extravagant or expensive, that wasn't his style, but it was neat, clean, and organized. As for Sticky himself, he was hardly the boy he was when he'd first met his friends. He was older, taller, stronger. Handsome. Confident.

Reynie told himself that he had nothing to fear. Appearances might change, but underneath it all was his friend.

"Sticky-" he began, but Sticky cut him off.

"It's Mr. Washington now," he corrected in a professional tone, trying his best not to reveal how much he'd been hurting. "Though I suppose I could allow you to call me George, for old times sake."

"Okay Mr. George," said Constance. "Having fun playing supervillain?"

Sticky frowned.

"If you came here just to criticize me, then I'll have my secretary show you out. Better her than my security," he added, glancing at Kate, who had her hand on her bucket.

"That's not why we're here," said Reynie quickly.

"Oh?" said Sticky, raising an eyebrow.

"Your family misses you," clarified Reynie, hoping to appeal to his friends' sentimentality.

"Well they have no reason to miss me. I brought them some lovely property, send plenty of checks, and cover all their medical expenses, which is all they ever wanted me for anyway," said Sticky.

"Would you ever go to visit them?" asked Reynie. "I um...I don't want to get involved in your family's personal lives. But I think they might want more than money. I think they...I think they really miss you."

And then he sees it. A sense of longing, and a yearning in Sticky's eyes.

But it vanishes almost instantly.

"I'm a busy man," Sticky reminded his friends. "I have businesses to run."

"Honest businesses?" asked Kate suspiciously.

"Yes," said Sticky, glaring at her. "You might disagree with my personal hobbies, but I assure you, I make my money fairly."

"You call brainwashing the world a hobby? Really Mr. George?" asked Constance.

Sticky sighed.

"I'm fixing the world," he lectured them. "Crime is down, addiction is down, people's rates of anxiety and depression are down-"

"Including your own no doubt," muttered Constance, but Sticky ignored her.

"-and it's all thanks to me," he finished.

Reynie looked horrified. Kate looked disgusted.

"But you're doing it without their consent!" Reynie protested. "And you don't know what the side effects could be."

"And the way you're justifying it," said Kate, "you sound exactly like-"

And then she stopped, realizing that what she was about to say would have gone too far, way too far.

But it was too late. Sticky knew what she'd been implying, and his faced morphed from a look of uncomfortable and false politeness to sudden rage.

"Like who?" Sticky snapped, and his friends jumped at the sound of his voice. It was so much louder and deeper than it had been when he was a child. It was a man's voice now, but it wasn't just the maturity or the confidence of his voice, but the anger it possessed. The harshness that had been so absent from him as a child.

Constance was the first to recover.

"You know who "Mr. George,"" she answered, glaring at her former friend.

The other two glanced at each other. What Constance was saying was cruel, especially after all that man had put Sticky through, but it was also undeniably true.

"How dare you?" whispered Sticky, the anger rising in his voice.

"How dare you compare me to him? AFTER EVERYTHING HE DID TO ME!"

Sticky rose from his desk.

His friends had never seen him look so furious.

"Sticky-" began Reynie nervously.

The others took a step backward.

Sticky's self-consciousness and compassion suddenly returned to him when he saw the fear in their eyes.

That’s the thing about anger. If you are someone who is small, short, nervous, mild mannered, someone who is perceived as “weak”, then your anger, no matter how justified, is often belittled, patronized, or dismissed as "cute", unless you can find a way to be taken seriously, to yell louder, to make yourself more threatening. Of course, the other side of this is that if you are someone who is tall, strong, loud, powerful, and intimidating, then it doesn’t take much anger to make others afraid of you, even if that’s not your intention, unless you learn to moderate your emotions and remember how threatening you look from their perspective.

For most of this life, Sticky had been on one end of this spectrum, always needing to yell louder and be more insistent to make his voice heard. Now he found himself on the other side of the spectrum. But although his height, physical appearance, and position in the world had changed, the emotion felt the same to him as it always had, and he often forgot just how frighting he could seem.

Even to those who had once called him friend.

Sticky sighed and took a deep breath.

"I'm not like him," he insisted.

"I'm not giving myself fame, money, power, or anything like that. That's the difference. When I say I'm doing this to help people, to make them feel happy, I mean it."

He looked at his friends, glancing over their faces, trying one last effort to get them to understand.

"You know me," he reminded them. "You know I wouldn't do that. I'm not doing this for power. I'm doing this for peace."

There was silence for a few moments.

"We know," said Reynie.

"We know you are Sticky. And we know you've been hurting. We should have noticed earlier, and we should have offered to help sooner. I'm sorry. But whatever your intentions are, that doesn't make this right."

Sticky didn't reply. He knew that Reynie was right; he always was.

"What do I do?" he asked, his voice suddenly sounding softer.

"Stop this," said Kate. "Turn yourself in. We'll help you, we'll- we'll get you the help you need. So you don't have to feel this way anymore."

Sticky was surprised.

His anxiety...his fears...he tried to act like it didn't bother him anymore. He didn't want to be a burden. He didn't want to drag his friends down with him.

And yet they were here, right next to him, not as adversaries, but as friends.

They didn't have to come. They didn't have to forgive him.

"You've needed help for a while," said Constance, her voice suddenly gentler and far more compassionate then even her friends were used to hearing from her.

"Haven't you George?"

Sticky didn't answer. He could feel Constance tentatively poking her way into his mind. But he didn't fight it. He sat back down and nodded silently, feeling weak and exposed, the reality of his pain revealed at last.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought I could deal with it on my own but I...I can't. I'm not- I'm not strong enough. That's why I needed to do this. I thought I could help not just me, but others, because the truth is I...I'm just not enough. I'm not strong enough."

His friends ran forward to hug him.

"You don't have to be dummy," said Constance.

"None of us are. That's why we have each other."

--------------

And finally, Reynie Muldoon.

Ngl, I went pretty dark for this one. He's the only one I actually gave a body count to (I know I'm sorry don't blame me blame the bees and I apologize if you think any of these are OOC I'm trying my best here. Also Reynie is older in this and there are darker themes mentioned so consider this your warning). This is based on @kaslynspeaks amazing post here and her awesome comments on my poll where she talks about the whole book conversation where Reynie can "only see snakes" so he lets himself be bitten and becomes a snake himself? Genius. 10/10. Set off the bees for sure, so thank you for that.

The Premise:

This one blends a lot of elements from the others. Like in Kate's situation, the society has won, they're fighting crime, but Reynie becomes disillusioned, though for different reasons. He's older than Kate was in her version, he's late 20s, 30s, maybe even pushing 40. It took a long time for him to get to this point.

You see, at first, Reynie is fighting for what he believes in: bringing bad guys to justice, keeping his friends on the straight and narrow, and doing what's right. But being a leader has a cost. He's always the one emotionally supporting the team, he gives more than he gets back, and that starts to take a toll. As he gets older, he encounters more bad guys, ones that make him sick to his stomach, but what's worse is the lack of people who seem to care. The politicians with empty promises, the corrupt police, the ordinary citizens who look the other way instead of helping. Nothing changes. There's always another crisis, another bad guy, another problem that needs the society, and the society needs him. So Reynie drains himself until at last he can give no more. Finally pushed to the brink by what he's seen and the sense of hopelessness and isolation he feels, he makes the decision.

He starts by cutting himself off from the society, at least professionally. They respect his decision, but are surprised by it. Once he's free of that obligation, Reynie tells his mother he's getting a new job and needs some space right now to figure himself out.

What he actually does is get involved in the criminal underworld. He tells no one of course, they'd never approve. But Reynie has learned that there is one thing that can control a snake: a bigger snake (or as the expression goes "there's always a bigger fish").

And his intelligence, knowledge of others, leadership skills, and experience with criminals quickly leads to Reynie becoming the boss of the criminal underworld (how did he do that so quickly? What is this "criminal underworld" I keep mentioning? Like. Is it a gang? The mafia? The ten men? Some random group of thieves? Idk, don't question it, just use your imagination).

Anyway, now that Reynie has control he determines what crimes happen, when they happen, and how many people get hurt. Which he views as damage control. He keeps his real occupation hidden from his mother, telling her he's involved in important government work, and it's better that she didn't ask questions. Eventually he completely cuts off ties with the rest of the society, knowing it's only a matter of time before they put together what he's done.

They do figure it out, eventually, and they're heartbroken of course. They can't believe it. Especially that Reynie, out of all of them, would ever do something so terrible. They want to confront him, but they can't find him.

Until one day they receive an anonymous coded message, tipping them off to his location.

Reynie's security team laughs when they tell them they're his friends. Their boss doesn't have any friends, and no one shows up to see him without an appointment unless they either have news that can't wait, or some kind of death wish. And he certainly never takes social calls.

Still, they let Reynie know about them. And of course he recognizes their description. Turning them away unharmed shows weakness, which his team would never accept from their leader, but Reynie doesn't want to harm his friends either.

Which gives him only one other option: to confront them. He has his security bring them to his office.

The Scene:

The men roughly shoved them into the room.

"These people came to see you boss. They said they were friends of yours."

Reynie looked up at his friends, who had just been pushed unceremoniously into his office.

"Thank you," he nodded, waving his hands to dismiss his security team.

Then he sighed.

"How did you find me?"

His friends didn't answer at first.

"That's what you want to know?" said Kate. "You're running the criminal underworld, and that's the first question you have for us? The route we used to get here?"

"Not the route. My location. How did you find me?" asked Reynie.

"Anonymous tip off. A coded message," said Constance. "Seems some of your men aren't as loyal as you thought."

Reynie looked disappointed, but shrugged.

"That's not all that uncommon in this line of work," he clarified. "Whoever it was will be dealt with accordingly. Snakes will be snakes"

"But since when are you one of them?" asked Kate.

Reynie sighed.

"I don't expect any of you to understand."

"You're right Reynie," said Sticky. "We don't understand. You were always the best of us. The one who reminded us who we were, what we stood for. How could you ever think something like this was right?"

"The best of us?" Reynie repeated disbelief.

"I was the average one, the one who wasn't special. I wasn't a genius, or a psychic, or some sort of super athlete. I was just me. I'm not special."

"So that's why you're doing this?" asked Constance. "To feel special?"

"No," said Reynie. "I'm doing this because it's inevitable. The cycle just repeats itself. We fight another bad guy, we almost fall apart, I hold us together, it takes everything out of me, I finally recover, and then we go around again. The only way to end the cycle is to become a part of it."

"Takes everything out of you?" repeated Sticky. "Reynie, we had no idea-"

"It's fine," dismissed Reynie. "Like I said, this is for the best."

"You really believe that?" asked Kate, shocked her friend could ever really think something like this was right. "You...your men...you're criminals! The worst criminals!"

"We are," agreed Reynie. "I won't deny that. But when you make yourself the king of the snakes, you decide how poisonous they are. These men follow me because they know I'm intelligent and powerful enough to let them get away with the crimes they want and have all the money and power they desire. That's a better deal than most other bosses could give them. But they also know that comes at a price, that certain things are off limits. If I hear any rumors of human trafficking or exploiting or harming children, well, then I'm sure to make an example of them. To remind them that I'm in control and that I have my standards."

"Make a example of them?" said Kate, her eyes widening.

"That...that doesn't mean what I think it means...right Reynie?" asked Sticky.

Reynie couldn't help but feel a little ashamed as he watched Constance, who had always looked up to him as her protector, her big brother, take a step away from him when she saw from his face that his words meant exactly what Sticky thought they meant.

But he didn't back down.

"They were human traffickers and people who abused children," Reynie said simply, trying his best to remain logical. "You can't say they didn't deserve it. If I wasn't running the criminal underworld, someone else would, someone who would be just as cruel, maybe worse, and would likely choose less deserving targets. It's no different than carrying out justice."

"And who made you the judge, jury and executioner?" asked Constance, crossing her arms.

"We're going to stop you," said Kate, raising her fists.

"Really?" said Reynie, his expression turning dark at his friend's declaration.

"I think you'll find that harder than you expect. You three might have been the talented ones, but I was the one who kept you together. I know you. I know how to build you up, and I know how to bring you down."

His friends looked horrified by the threat. Even worse, they looked hurt.

"I don't want it to come to that," Reynie clarified. "But it will if you stand against me. I don't want to hurt you, but trust me, I can. Worse than you can imagine. And I will. I know how it sounds, but believe me when I tell you that this is the only way."

The others were shocked by his words. Reynie cared for them; Reynie protected them.

How could he threaten them so easily? How could he have become so misguided?

Sticky thought a bit about what his friend had said, and tried one last time to reach him.

"We understand where you're coming from, really Reynie, we do," said Sticky. "But this isn't the way to do things. You're still hurting people in other ways, and I agree that people need to be brought to justice but this...this isn't the way to do it."

"We didn't know it was so hard for you," added Kate. "You were our leader Reynie. And you're right. You held us together, you kept us strong, and you were always there when we needed you. To remind us who we are. I'm sorry we didn't appreciate that more. But now it's our turn to be there for you. To remind you who you are."

Reynie didn't answer for a moment.

"And who do you think that is?"

"Our friend," said Kate.

"Some who is kind, gentle, intelligent, wonderful, and anything but average," added Sticky.

"Someone who knows deep down that this is wrong," said Constance, poking her way around the edges of Reynie's mind.

"Someone who's better than this."

Reynie couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You...you really think that?" he asked. "After everything I've done... you really think that's who I am?"

"We do," said Sticky.

"We all do," agreed Kate.

"I know it," said Constance, as Reynie felt her enter his mind, unearthing the guilt, shame, exhaustion, and pain that he'd kept buried for so long, as well as the love, compassion, and the values he'd put aside and tried to forget about.

They were still a part of him. An unused and forgotten part, but nevertheless, they were still there.

"Your friends are right Reynie."

Reynie turned to see his mother enter his office.

"Amma?" he asked in a small voice.

"But, but I don't understand- how...how did you-"

"For the leader of the criminal underworld, you have pretty bad security. They're easy enough to knock out with a few blow darts and they are much too unsuspecting of a simple old woman," his mother replied with a sad smile.

Reynie's heart dropped. She knew?

One look in her eyes told him everything. Of course she knew. She knew when he started staying out late and never telling her where he was going, when he came back with scars and a haunted look in his eyes that he couldn't explain, when he begged her for the millionth time to stop asking questions, when he moved her into a bigger fancier private house and had the property constantly surrounded by security guards because of a "promotion" that he refused to explain.

His mother was kind, but she certainly wasn't stupid.

And then Reynie realized.

"The coded message. You brought them here."

Dipika nodded.

"You needed them Reynie. You needed to be reminded of who you are."

Reynie hung his head.

"Amma-" he began, but his voice trailed off.

What could he say? What words could ever make it up to the woman who'd taken him in, who'd given everything to him? There was nothing he could say, not when she knew what he'd done, what he'd become.

"Oh Reynie," said Dipika, walking forward to hug her son, who trembled at the affection he knew he didn't deserve.

"I know," she whispered. "I know you're sorry. And I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I wasn't enough. I'm sorry I couldn't reach you. But it's not too late. I promise Reynie. It's never too late."

At last, Reynie broke down, returning his mother's embrace as the three people who refused to give up on him even when he'd given up on himself stepped forward to hug their friend.

---------------------

I apologize for nothing, or maybe I will if enough people tell me this was disturbing and that they didn't like it, which honestly? Fair enough. Anyway, have a lovely evening! 🥰

[adimouze]

https://x.com/F1/status/1852030580440825995

Not sure if you saw this, but after Mexico and because it was against Perez, there were a lot of people on his side.

But the comments here, the tide is changing.

Putting my DR bias lens aside, this attitude won't get him the redbull seat UNTIL Max leaves. I feel like he's trying to show people he's just like Max when Max started, but right now, Red Bull doesn't need two Max's. They have Max, and they need someone who will help him.

Even with Franco, I do not think it's wise to put a driver who is hungry to build a career besides Max. Daniel would have been the ideal choice, but they burnt that bridge, and they're going to end up killing the career of whichever young driver drives that second seat.

i hope so because i refuse to check the twitter comments. because the ones supporting him are so brain dead omg they're like "this is a confident man!!" or "yeah f1 is not to make friends!"

i dont think red bull has been smart all year. i dont think they plan on being smart now. they'll put lawson in and then be like pikachu surprised face when he inevitably clashes with max. and i dont think max would stay in red bull if they allow lawson to fuck up his races. i think they're going down the alex/pierre route again, because as much as i loathe to admit it they had something stable with checo but now they don't. i know a lot of people say that daniel's f2-f3's weren't earth shattering either, but i got the sense the man realized what worked (head down, accept criticism, be accountable, be nice, race hard but race clean) and he worked hard to ensure he would have a 13 year career. there's a reason why the drivers go on so many padel dates -- you need friends in this. you need people in your corner. lawson's just antagonising colleagues on his FIRST DAY. like baby it's nearly over. everyone's tired. just keep quiet and you'll be done. no wonder george didnt want to add him in the group chat last year. he's doing too much.

i think the one winning rn is franco. if he gets into the VCARB he's safe for a year and gets to hone his craft. sucks for yuki, but if liam flops out franco gets the seat should he be in VCARB. im firmly max-isnt-long-for-Red-Bull team, so if lawson doesnt flop max eventually leaves and franco gets the seat. win win.

liam is going to get a trial by fire next year. i dont think red bull has a winning car next year either. so while max is a genius, lawson might be in for a rough ride.

[ria-777]

There is not enough letters in the alphabet for me to tell you how much I love you

C - Cute

Keith has no idea why the realization even surprised him in the first place. But now, as he looked at her eating some sort of space watermelon on a beach situated on Étoilistia, wearing a two-piece swimsuit, he wondered how this wasn't his initial thought concerning the girl.

Pidge was adorable, pretty, gorgeous, mesmerizing. Whatever you want to call her kind of beauty.

Hell! He was sure even Lance would be able to agree with him. Maybe she wasn't as hot as the girls the blue paladin crushed on, she still had a lot going on.

Maybe it was her big eyes, or the way she carried herself, or how she stared at things that interested and fascinated her.

Maybe it was the way she would pout when something wasn't going how she wanted or the smile on her face when she had the last word.

As usual.

Maybe it was her cheeks, freckles adoring them that he now realized seemed to have gotten even more visible ever since they landed on this sunny planet.

Often, Keith thought he was the only one to notice the green paladin's adorableness. They were all too busy being blown away by her intelligence, like he was when they first met. He was proven wrong today, to his displeasure.

Upon seeing the sunlit beach when they arrived, Lance and Hunk had begged Allura to let them spend at least a complete quintant enjoying it. In need of a relaxed day off duty as much as the teenagers, the princess easily accepted.

Originally, Keith was enthusiastic about it too, but after witnessing more than one étoilistians fail at trying to flirt with Pidge, he just wanted to leave this place, as beautiful as it is.

Couldn't they realize she was very obviously uncomfortable with their wandering eyes!? Like seriously, who could think that someone as smart as Pdige would fall for cheesy and honestly bad pick lines. He heard a few that were so horrible that even Lance wouldn't be able to come up with. Some people truly had no manners.

The red paladin had managed to scare a few of them by standing protectively by Pidge's side, glaring at anyone who observed her the wrong way.

Maybe he was acting a bit jealous, or perhaps possessive, but did they really need to see more of her skin exposed to find her somewhat attractive? Creeps.

Thankfully, she hadn't told him off. Yet.

Keith hoped deep down that she'd let him protect her. She was already aware he thought of her as a strong person, which didn't mean he never felt the urge to keep her safe from perverts in a mostly unknown environment.

By the end of the day, everyone in team Voltron had complimented Pidge, all except one.

*******

It wasn't bugging her at all. That's what the girl kept repeating in her brain, over and over again.

Why should she care?

Upon stepping out of Allura's bathroom, the princess exclaimed how pretty she looked. Once they met up outside the castle with the rest of the team, the older girl hadn't wasted a tick before showing off her excellent choice in picking an outfit for the genius of the group. Dramatically explaining how she knew this was going to be the one from the start, ignoring the many failed tries before Pidge found one she liked and felt comfortable wearing.

They all said she looked beautiful. Except Keith, who only stared at her silently. Was he judging how she was dressed? The green paladin was aware that at some point in their life, people began wanting approval from others, regarding how they were perceived by their entourage. She just never thought she would be one of them. Was he disagreeing with the others in his brain? Once more, Pidge cursed his poked face.

So no, she wasn't disappointed in the slightest. It didn't bother her at all- Yeah, this strategy wasn't working. Who could have guessed telling herself she didn't mind would fail? If her twelve-year-old self saw how much she cared about some boy's opinion on how she looked, Pidge is sure she would get kicked in the knees. Hell, even the version of her when this whole adventure started would be disappointed. This wasn't what she was in space for.

"But it's Keith, not just any boy." That's what her brain kept repeating . Maybe he was planning on saying something later, when they were alone? She could only wish he would.

No matter how much Pidge tried ignoring how fast her heart was beating during the entire day.

Hope rose in her when he spent vargas staying by her side, driving away anyone who disturbed her. She prayed he did that in an "I like you and I don't want other people to eye you up and down way" and not "I care for you like an older brother would way."

Yep, she officially sounded insane.

Katie "Pidge" Holt was losing it because she had a stupid crush on her teammate and not because of how emotionally and physically battling against the Galra while simultaneously searching for her father and Matt was.

Currently, they were both seated a few metres away from their friends, appreciating the scenery by watching the impressive sunset.

She could feel his eyes on her. Should she ask him what was troubling him? What if it pissed him off? Would that be too intrusive? But what if it concerned her? What if he said the swimsuit didn't fit her? What if-

"Pidge." She turned her head to the side to be able to stare at him in the eyes, humming in response.

God, why did he have to observe her so intensely, her heart was about to tear itself out of her skin.

"You look cute today, but so do you most of the time."

Oh, she'd never recover from that one anytime soon, that was for sure.

If only she knew he wouldn't either, after seeing how her face flushed a pretty shade of red. Saying those few words had taken all the courage Keith had in store for the day.

"Thanks, uhm... so do you?"

If his face wasn't rosy before, it was now for certain, possibly even more than hers. But she was smiling and so was her.

Maybe he might actually have a chance after all.

*******

Note: For the name of the planet, I wanted something to go with space so I went with the word étoile which means star in french!

(Posted on ao3 and Wattpad)

[drgrlfriend]

Fic Stats Meme

Rules: Give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.

Most Hits: No surprise there. I'm constantly amazed by how fantastically this fic was received in such a big fandom. Windows

Summary:

Derek has a new neighbor who won't stop looking.

Excerpt:

“You’re blind,” Derek said flatly, the anger draining from him so suddenly he felt almost woozy. His vision cleared, his claws sliding back into blunt fingernails.

“Thanks for the memo, genius,” the kid said acidly. “I can still fucking defend myself, so don’t take another damn step.”

“Fuck, I...I’m sorry,” Derek stuttered.

“What?!” The kid’s brow crinkled. “I mean — what?! You’re fucking sorry!?” His lips thinned into a harsh line. “What, is this some kinda Hallmark movie where you’re discovering the error of your ways because you don’t want to rob a blind person?! That’s fucking condescending, man. I’ll have you know that —”

“Just, wait.” Derek interrupted what was apparently the start of a convincing argument as to why he should rob the kid after all, feeling his head start to spin. “This is — it’s a misunderstanding. I’m — I’m not robbing you. You’re — you’re safe, okay? I’m taking three steps back. Just — just let me explain.”

“Explain why you came busting into my apartment? Yeah, go right ahead, man, I can’t wait to hear this epic tale.”

Second-most Kudos: Layover

Excerpt:

Big, serious brown eyes were staring right into his from only a few inches away. The child had clambered half over the arm of Derek’s chair to study him at close range, her little rosebud mouth pursed in concentration.

“Uh.” Derek couldn’t look away as the girl reached out one pudgy hand and patted him gently on the cheek. Her scent was soft and sweet and somehow a bit familiar, just enough to keep Derek from shying away. Derek didn’t know too much about kids but he guessed this one was probably three years old or so, head still oversized in proportion to the short limbs and round little belly.

She seemed fascinated with Derek’s beard, eyes widening further under incredibly thick lashes as she petted Derek’s cheek some more, smoothing down the short stubble. Finally she grinned widely. “Good wuff.”

Derek jerked upright, hands clenching on the edge of his seat. Did she just say?...

“CJ!” The child was suddenly gone, lifted up by a strong, tattooed forearm around her little potbelly. “You scared the he— heck out of me! What have I told you about wandering — Derek?”

Third-most Comments:

Lucky in Love

Summary:

Clint is only a couple of sips into his cardboard cup of coffee, his brain barely out of neutral, which is probably why it takes him so long to realize that some damn psycho is trying to kidnap his dog.

Excerpt:

“I’m not some charity case,” Bucky says pugnaciously.

“I didn’t think you were,” Clint answers back readily enough. “I mean, I can tell you’re fucked up for sure, but of the two of us, I’m probably the bigger disaster. My sleep schedule is shit, and I drink coffee straight from the pot. I sing in the shower even though I’m deaf as fuck. I have arrows everywhere because I’m an archer — did I tell you that? And I was raised in a literal circus, so I’m not exactly domestic. Let’s see, what else?” He squints down at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah, I won the building in a poker game with the Russian mafia and every once in awhile they show up and try to take it back, but usually I handle it, no problem. Uh...”

Clint happens to looks up and Bucky’s eyes are wide, his mouth hanging open. Clint’s hand freezes where he’s rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed. Yeah, when you put it all out there at once, it doesn’t sound so good.

Fourth-most Bookmarks: Layover again. That's a bit of a surprise!

Fifth-most Words:

Freedom's Reach

Summary:

Clint is about to move on when his eyes drift up to the lettering at the top of the window.

FREE PASSAGE TO THE WEST!

Clint knows that the circus folk mock him — call him too trusting, too soft-hearted — but even he knows nothing in this life comes free. The words puzzle him, and he reads them again carefully to make sure he hasn’t made a mistake.

His eyes are drawn to one posting at the very bottom corner, different from the others. This one is sun-faded and starting to yellow, curling at the corners. Clint crouches down, brow furrowing and lips moving as he sounds out the unfamiliar words.

Western Man Seeking a Husband — I am a kind and unassuming man of good financial means seeking a helpmate and companion. I have lost my arm in the service of our Union, but am otherwise free from disease. I am not particular as to looks, but am seeking an individual of equal youth and vivacity with whom I can share my affection and devotion. I am a man of quiet habits, moderate temperament, and kind disposition and would seek the same in my husband.

Fewest Words: Some of my ficlets in the Tumblr Ficlets compilation would probably count, but for freestanding fics it's this one:

The Set-Up

Excerpt:

“Y’know,” Steve starts, and Bucky’s jaw clenches instinctively. “Clint likes baseball. Or, at least, I think I saw him watching a game once. I mean, he was taking a nap in the lounge so I’m not sure if the game was on accidentally, but he didn’t change the channel when he woke up. Maybe you should ask him if he wants to catch a game some time? I mean, it’s not Ebbet’s Field, but Citi isn’t so bad, even if it is Queens…”

Bucky leans back on the couch, turns up the volume on the game, and tries his hardest to tune Steve out.

This was fun! Tagging anyone who wants to play.

[wintercandle42]

oi you I wanna hear about your au ideas

Oh boy do I have ideas. Unsure which au exactly you wanna hear about considering I have. A lot. (Hope101, indie game dev x streamer, magical girl au, pokémon sun and moon au, Dragon Nagito au, Dragon Izuru au, etc…) But I can tell you about my band au that I’ve just started working on!

The story is mainly about Hajime/Izuru. He is the bassist in a band with Ibuki (guitarist,) Nagito (pianist/keyboard,) Leon (drums,) and Sonia (lead singer.) However, one day he gets into an accident leading to some brain damage and Acquired Savant Syndrome. He’s suddenly basically a genius, and he’s struggling to feel emotions like he used too. The overflow of information that he suddenly understands at a glance is painful and overwhelming. He doesn’t feel like himself anymore. He isn’t sure what he feels.

So ofc his band is there for him, and they try to help him feel again and explore himself through music, where eventually he realizes he isn’t Hajime anymore and he has to come to terms with that. He’s who Hajime used to be, and he’s also more (and also probably dating Nagito now because I’m a sucker for Kamukoma.)

Though I should mention, eventually Leon gets kicked out of the band. He and Ibuki were dating for a while (mega party couple fr fr) but she got fed up with him play-flirting with other girls and dumped him one day. The band’s manager, Nekomaru, brings in Akane to be their new drummer, while Ibuki begins a budding queer coded frenemyship with Toko Fukawa which may end up in a romance if Toko can swallow her pride and let herself love and be loved. But nah rn she’s just texting Ibuki 24/7 because she “hates that disgusting immature otaku” and for no other reason at all surely.