#thank you thank you thank you I see people misuse these all the damn time and haven’t been able to articulate why they’re wrong

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

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1. Looking for a smut fic I remember reading. WWX was testing an invisibility talisman and ended up in the jingshi in time to watch LWJ masturbating, and rode him after he fell asleep. LWJ woke up and made WWX get rid of the invisibility after a bit. I think it was a roleplay between the two but I'm not fully sure

FOUND! Clinomania by malkinmalkout (E, 6k, wangxian, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Somnophilia, misuse of talismans, PWP, Riding, Oral Sex, binding, Happy Ending, canon typical non-con)

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2. Hi! So I'm looking for this one fic, I remember that it was set in post-canon & Wangxian go to help this village, I remember that the Juniors (all four) followed them without their knowledge & the village had a barrier preventing people from leaving, the village had a curse where they got to see their close-ones negative memories, the juniors learnt of what actually happened to WWX & the villain turns out to be a "god" like on Dafan, it had 4 chapter (I think) & was finished. @i-like-snakes-and-spiders

FOUND? Down comes the night by danegen (E, 67k, wangxian, Alternate Universe, Canon Era, inspired by From, Horror, Sharing a Room, POV LWJ, no jiangs, a whole village of OCs, tiny mention of past wwx/omc, Happy Ending)

FOUND? unhappy stories with happy endings by Last_for_Hell (M, 30k, WangXian, Memories, Memory Fic, Kinda, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, sexual content maybe, References to Torture, PTSD, Characters Watching Their Series, kinda, but not entirely, very light consensual non-consent)

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3. good day! 😊 I read this fic before and I know that I've bookmarked it but I can't find it in the list. So the story is after wwx fell, baoshan sanren and lan yi rescued him, nursed him back to health, and waited for him to wake up. I remember that when he woke up, they also taught him cultivation (he got a new sword). He also hid his face (i think he also wore a different name and different voice(?)). There's a yi city scene where xxc asked them who they were because he cant see, then bssr is also with them at that time. thank yoooooou! 💓💓💓

FOUND! Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, war changes people, resulting to OOC, no pinning, Established Relationship, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, mainly CQL verse but has scenes from the novel as well, LSZ is WangXian's Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts)

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4. hi, I hope you can help me find this fic I've been looking for, I'm sorry I don't really remember much, just that WWX can cook non-spicy food but he does it on purpose, it might have been because of his time in the streets? or because someone would take his food? (maybe JC???)

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5. I cannot for the life of me remember anything else about the fic but I think it was cql based with lwj as chief cultivator? wwx returned to cloud recesses and the first thing he did was beat someone up for saying horrible things about lwj. I can't remember if it was multichapter or not so it might have been in the middle of a longfic?

FOUND? 🔒make this chaos count by devotedbones (E, 15k, WangXian, Post-Canon, CQL Compliant, canon compliant until the very last scene of episode 50, Getting Together, First Time, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Chief Cultivator LWJ, a flute used as a melee weapon, Fist Fights, Gossip, Self-Worth Issues, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Mentions of Canonical Abuse, Minor Misunderstandings, [podfic] make this chaos count, by devotedbones by inkpens)

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6. this may as well be an itmf for its general nature, but it's actually a ficfinder! except. i only remember a single detail LMAO, and it's that wwx and lwj consider all four juniors to be their children, blood relation be damned. I'm so sorry i have literally nothing else to go on 😅 i think there's a similar theme in 'tragedy is not the end' specifically with zizhen, but not the exact detail im looking for... thank you for the help!

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7. Hi, first of all I want to thank y'all for the hard work, and I wanted to know if a fic has been deleted or if anyone has it, I don't remember the name but it was a time travel fic where Qishan Wen win the sunshot campaign and asked for war prizes (?) Zewu-Jun goes instead of his brother, Yanli is alive, they all have them captive, Meng Yao betrayed them and ultimately sided with the Wen's who were winning the war, and I think no one remembers Wei Wuxian, something like that, it would be great if someone could help! Thanks so much 🩷🩷

FOUND? The Way It Wasn’t by KouriArashi (T, 72k, WangXian, XiYao, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, (eventually haha), Slow Build, Family Feels, Moral Ambiguity, Eventual Happy Ending)

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8. Hi!!! Its me again!! Thanknyiu so much again!!! This time im looking for a time travel fic with lan qiren as the timentraveller. Pretty sure him and wen ruohan travelled together and MAYBE involved with each other??? Im not so sure but i do know that lan qiren time travelled. Sorry its not much thats all i remember hehe @sirius-bus1ness

might be one of Nirejseki's works. They wrote several on that subject (including in a big anthology work, so finding it might take some time)

FOUND? Cursed Couple by shorimochi (M, 121k, LQR/WRH, CSSR/WCZ, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Out of Character)

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9. Hello, I am looking for a fic but I only remember a scene from it

It was a fic wwhere wwx died and there was a scene where a-yuan was crying while laying above wwx's grave in the burial mounds. Thank you!

FOUND? To Offer a Heart by WhiteCrane (M, 111k, wangxian, major character death, Sad WWX, Hurt WWX, YLLZ WWX, soft wangxian, Cinnamon Roll WN, WWX Whump, WQ is a good sister, WN is a good brother, everybody loves wwx, yunmeng siblings, Triggers, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Taking care of WWX, Give WWX a break, Canon Divergence, Disturbing Themes, Changing Perspectives, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Grief/Mourning, Temporary Character Death, Getting Together, Redemption, Sibling Bonding, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brother-Sister Relationships, Parent-Child Relationship, Sad and Sweet, Tragedy, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF JYL, BAMF WQ, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Everyone Needs A Hug, WIP)

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10. Hi Mods (＾◡＾) I really hope that you can help me find some fics I've been looking for! (＾◡＾) if you can't that's ok, if you can then many thanks in advance! y'all are awesome!

A) this one is set during CR studies, and wangxian go on a date? in Caiyi and I think WWX gets emotional about something they are talking about? and I know they hug, and WWX don't want to let go.

B) this one wangxian gets married, WWX marries into the Lan, and there are a lot of rules specifically for married people/how to be in a relationship, I'm pretty sure that is a very big part of the story

10A)

FOUND! 🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 712k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) The scene described sounds like something that happens pretty early on

10B)

NOT FOUND! Into the Oubliette by Ruixx (M, 124k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, graphic depictions of violence, underage, Growing Up, Fix-It of Sorts, Arranged Marriage, Time Travel, Sibling Bonding, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Canon Divergence, Light BDSM, Breathplay, WWX protection squad, Sunshot Campaign, War, Politics, Hostage JYL, Visions, LXC Redemption, general LWJ, Internal Sect Politics, Good Uncle LQR, Lan OCs, No Golden Core Transfer, Empire Building, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence)

NOT FOUND! seldom all they seem by Fahye (E, 25k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, or rather Arranged Betrothal, followed by Weapons-Grade Thirst)

FOUND? Wouldn't fall for someone I thought couldn't misbehave by failedcharismacheck (M, 15k, WIP, WangXian, Marriage Proposal, Fluff, Protective LWJ, Domestic Fluff, Kissing, POV LWJ, Hair Brushing, Implied Sexual Content, soft horny)

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11. Noncon tw. Looking for a fic where when the wens burn lotus pier, they threaten to rape yanli but Wei Wuxian offers himself instead. So the wen soldiers rape Wei Wuxian in front of the Jiang sect,l. Yanli cries

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12. Looking for a specific fix where Wei Ying is dead and the sects come together to watch through his memories and end up finding out for selfless he was. @aviidaviibiitchboii

FOUND! Misunderstood by Silver_Flame_2724 (M, 250k, WIP, WangXian, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Heavy Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Worth Issues)

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13. Hi, I'm looking for a modern au where Wei Ying is a grad student in an orchestra and A-yuan is dropped off at his door by his cousin Mo Xuanyu. Wei Ying and Lan Zhan get together while caring for A-yuan and end up getting married. A-yuan has a fear of airports in this fic because of his abandonment issues. This was on AO3 but I can't seem to find it. @amindonbreak

FOUND! The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental baby acquisition, Kid fic, Green card marriage (but not really), Slow Burn, Endless Pining, Happy ending, [Podfic of] The Simplest Way Forward by knight_tracer, Translation into Русский: Самый Простой Путь Вперёд (The Simplest Way Forward) by grand_R, Spanish Translation, Turkish translation )

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14. hello! im looking for specific fic, where after burial mounds wwx thinks he's dead. instead of joining sunshot campain he storms nightless city and kills all cultivators without anyone knowing it was him (exept meng yao who survived but is wounded)

he then "haunts" yumeng for a while until he runs into wen quing and takes wens to burrial mounds

eventually ppl find out and together with meng yao they outsmart jgs to pardon all wens @chellsky

I can't find 14, but I do remember reading it; they ended up pretending Wen Qing was the one controling the dead and killing the Wen, and they faked her death

FOUND! can't find a way home by KouriArashi (M, 109k, WangXian, XiYao, XuanLi, ChengQing, Canon Divergence, Angst, Family, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Family Feels, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Developing Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical political bullshit, Mental Health Issues, Eventual Happy Ending, Descriptions of suicide, (caused by dark magic))

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15. Hello! I'm looking for a fic where Sizhui's bio parents are alive and come to Cloud Recesses looking for him (post-canon, iirc)

Hello! I'm #15 from the latest fic finder. I'm quite sure that the fic was on ao3. It may have been inspired from the angstymdzsthoughts posts but it was a proper fic posted on ao3

NOT FOUND! This Post by angstymdzsthoughts Mad idea, could 15 be from angstymdzsthoughts?

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16. Hi! I was reading a really interesting story about LWJ being cursed and WWX helping him and I lost it! Arg, now I'm so curious to know how it ends, I hope you can help me!

The story is about LWJ being cursed with a change in his private body parts. (The curse changes his p to a v). Then WWX notices this and decide to help LWJ and the way to revert the curse is that LWJ has to have an org@sm.

Can you help me? I'm dying to know how to continues!! 🤗🤗 @wangxiansgirl

FOUND! Coming Back to Yourself by acernor (E, 21k, wangxian, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Pining, Gender or Sex Swap, Vaginal Sex)

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17. Hi! Looking for a fic wherein wangxian married and suddenly Mo Xuanyu woke up again in his body, he fell in love with Lan Wangji but Lan Wangji just ignore or formal with him. Mo Xuanyu heartbroken tried to bring back Wei Wuxian Soul on his body

I feel like this might be in the angstymdzs collection, since I think it's was inspired by one of those asks?

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18. Kind of random, but I’m trying to find a fic I read awhile ago that featured hagfish? My memory of it is kind of vague, it was a college au and wwx was some sort of biology major i think and there were hagfish. Compelled to read it again because of hagfish reasons.

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19. Hello! I'm looking for a specific fic which I've seen in a few people's bookmarks but for some reason neglected to even mark for later. It's a modern AU where LWJ is looking for a pet sitter for his bunnies and is recommended WWX's pet sitting/walking venture (no dogs allowed ofc). Can you help? 🐇 @linderel

FOUND! A Single Note by airinshaw (E, 19k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Kissing, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub)

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20. I search a fic where Jiang Cheng tries to ask Lan Xichen to marry him and Lan Xichen is super offended by it. Nie Huaisang may have done something to make JC fail even more in his proposal.

FOUND? To Take A Wife- Or Perhaps A Husband by Admiranda (T, 2k, one-sided LXC/JC, one-sided NHS/JC, JC's canonical homophobia, JC's canonical inability to get married, Decides to solve his problems with spite, not JC friendly, We all love NHS in this household, JC's canonical blind spots, Post-Canon, JC's canonical classism)

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[xuchiya]

"Chapter 8: Yeosang saves the day!" || kang yeosang [a mini-series]

|| next: chapter 9 || if you haven't read the previous chapter, here's the masterlist.

genre: non!idol yeosang. fluff. angst. violence. mentions: gun. knives. attempt murder/kidnapping. blood. anxiety attack.

"my lady as much as I want to drive that ... chariot as our runaway vehicle ... you're on your own."

"KANG YEOSANG?!"

The next few weeks were a blur of chaos and confusion. The company's stock prices plummeted, partnerships that once seemed rock-solid began to crumble without explanation— pulling out in just a phone call. Having Karina looking at you with a down look as the call from one of the investors had suddenly stopped cooperating with your corporations, and rumours of illegal activities swirled around your family’s business like a dark cloud.

You groan, clicking the exit button with so much frustration after reading the article. It is false information, so much malice in each word and not even a hint of truth, “Karina…”

“Yes lady?” She bows her head which you did wave off a little bit, “One please don’t bow and second, can you look for this resource and take it down? If they did not for the next 24 hours,  file a case for my lawyer.”

She nodded, looking at her tablet before walking to her desk.

At first, you tried to manage the crisis, believing it to be a series of unfortunate coincidences. But as more partnerships retreated and the media started publishing scathing articles, your confusion turned into despair. The articles were brutal, accusing the company of engaging in illegal trades and using banned substances to manipulate partnerships. Your father's once-stellar reputation was being dragged through the mud, and by association, so was yours.

Then all of these articles suggested that you had admitted to feeling overwhelmed and distrusting your team. It painted a picture of a leader who was losing control and questioning the loyalty of those around her. Daniel's seemingly innocent questions from that fateful night now twisted into damning evidence against you. Each day brought a new wave of bad news, and with every plummet of the stock prices, your father's temper flared hotter. His frustration grew with every lost partnership and damaging headline. The tension in the office was palpable, a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

Then, the final blow: a paparazzi photo of you and Yeosang at a carnival, taken out of context and blown into a full-blown scandal. The headlines screamed about inappropriate relationships and misuse of company resources. 

Your heart drops, feeling your face drain from its natural color as you stare at the headline of you and Yeosang. It was undeniably you in the photo, the angle looks like you both are in an intimate position and moment. It killed from the inside on how people can manipulate their words with just one photo and boom! There goes the story and accusations. It was a harmless date— a unwind and relaxing day for you that you were forever thankful for Yeosang. 

It enrages you how people find ways to bring you down after seeing you so high up and above them but nothing can beat your father’s fury was immediate and unrestrained. A knock on your office door divided your attention, “Yes?”

Karina’s head poke in with a troubled look, “Lady … your father is looking for you.” You already know how these will go down and you are ready.

Or so you thought. 

"You think this is a game?!" he shouted, slamming his fists on the desk as the latest scandalous newspaper hit it. "Do you have any idea what you've done to our reputation? First all the percentages did not only drop by five percent but it went down to twenty?!" His nose was flared, if mythical creatures are true then he represents a raging dragon— ready to burn anything in crisp. Maybe including you, if mercy is in his dictionary.

“We can still make this work! It is not yet too late to talk to the media–..”

“Silence!” His voice echoes throughout the room making you immediately shut your mouth.

He moved around his desk, smacking his hand on the big whiteboard attached to the wall far left to his desk where various numbers and pictures of the company displayed, “Not only that but your great grandfather’s partnership?! Do you know how long he worked hard to earn their trust to invest in this corporation?!”

“I have talk them through— I insisted…–” 

“Yet nothing works! … And this—” He suddenly pulled out a bunch of photos, throwing them on the floor. Your eyes focus on the two familiar figures. A different angle between you and Yeosang at the carnival. A stolen photo. 

"I was just trying to unwind, Father! It was one night—"

"One night? Look at the damage!" He picked up the newspaper and waved it in your face, the headline blaring your name alongside scandalous accusations. "Our partners are pulling out, our stock is crashing, and now this! The media is having a field day with our family's name."

You stood your ground, but your voice wavered. "I didn’t do anything wrong. I do not know where all of these are rooted but I have contacted Seonghwa and  Jeonghan about all of these and they are taking care of them! Mr. Kim is still with us— we should be grateful for him and sticking with us! And Yeosang, dad — he is just my bodyguard."

"Just your bodyguard?" His voice rose to a fever pitch. "This isn’t just about you anymore. This is about the entire company, our legacy. Yes! I am grateful  to Mr. Kim but it does not change anything! How could you be so careless?! Every day, we are losing millions! Our reputation is in tatters, and all because you couldn’t handle all these on your hands and keep your personal life out of the public eye!"

His words started to get hurt each time he opened his mouth. It went one ear out to the other yet it left a stinging pain all down to your body and mostly down to your heart. You have never thought you would end up in this situation, a time and moment where you wish that if you did this or that— anything would counter this situation.

Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Your breath ragged from keeping your emotions inside, "I'm not the one causing these problems. There's something else going on here, something we’re not seeing. Father please."

"Stop making excuses!" His face was red with rage, veins bulging in his neck. "You think this is a conspiracy? It's your incompetence! You need to get your act together and fix this. Now."

You watch his figure retreat back to his desk, opening one button of his coat; gaze hard as he look outside his window before turning back to you and speaking those words you never thought he would spat on you out of rage, 

“How can I be so proud of you when all you do is fail and disappoint me all the time.”

The weight of his words crushed you, and without another word, you turned and fled out of the office. Karin and Mingi called after you, but you ignored them, running through the building and out into the bustling city streets. You didn’t stop running until the company building was a distant silhouette behind you, bumping into strangers each time it blurs and fresh salty tears stream down your face. 

Your heart raced when a car screeched to a halt in front of you, the driver leaning out of the window to yell profanities. But you barely registered his words, your mind a chaotic swirl of emotions. You kept running, desperate to find somewhere, anywhere, where you could find peace. Panting, you find yourself lost in the maze of the city— Just like Shibuya Prefecture, it is crowded with pedestrians while you stand in the middle of the throng, feeling like you are drowning in a sea of faces. Your makeup was ruined, hair disheveled, and your spirit shattered.

If calling a name like a mantra would bring back those people you deeply love and are attached to, you would have done it a thousand times but your mouth never opens and only hope it would come on its own to save you. 

On queue, rainfall started to drop on top of your head and sooner you were drenched from head to toe. Clothes clinging to your skin, a puff of air leaving your lips as the coldness turns your body into the depths of numbness; the weather and the season soon changing, drastically.

“My lady?” It was as if hope and the mantra you kept saying inside your head and the agony cannons to those who can feel your pain and sorrow, finally answered. As you spun on your heavy feet, you were faced with a confused Yeosang.

He stood there also drenching from head to toe, his hair down and unkept and his normal uniform you usually saw in him now replaced by a hoodie and dark jeans. Under his arm is his helmet. 

“Y-Yeosang?” you shakily walked towards him, fighting the part of your mind that insisted this was just a cruel trick but when he moved towards you and held your hand; pulling suddenly close to his chest as the sound of the beep of a car echoes your ears but what you heard the most is how fast is heart beats on your ear. 

“I’ll take you it that nothing good happen and you’ll get sick so I'll bring you back to mine.” You did not speak further nor did Yeosang speak more. Without a word, he reached out and took your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. As he led you through the crowded streets, his body became a protective shield, ensuring no one bumped into you. He subtly maneuvered himself to block the view of any passerby who might recognize you, keeping you hidden from prying eyes and potential scandal.

His presence was a barrier against the chaos, a constant, calming force amid the storm. With every step, you felt a little more secure, knowing Yeosang was there, guiding you away from the prying public and the relentless pressures that had been consuming you.

When you reached the shop, you heard him click his tongue in annoyance as he turned around with a contemplated look, lips pressed into thin lines, “Just a slight problem…”

You sniffed a little bit as your eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, “Why?”

“Well I did not expect to see you nor would we bump into each other so … I did not bring my extra helmet and my home is at least 6 or 7 blocks down from here.” You shake your head already seeing the wheels in his brain turning, “Yeosang I can literally hear your thoughts and we are not going down the street with me having no helmet on!”

 He chuckles, unbuckling the strap of the helmet and placing it on your head, as he leans down on the visor area, staring at you with a playful look , “Yeah?”

,,,, 

“KANG YEOSANG! DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?!” You held on to Yeosang tightly as he accelerated more than the usual speed required in the city, Yeosang suddenly pulls front part of the motorbike up in the air— a wheelie— making you yelp and hold on to dear life and call more saints inside your head, 

“Come on my lady! Are you ready?!”

“Argh! Let's get over it!” You could only hear Yeosang laugh through the harsh wind as he waves through past the cars then benking to turn down the street. He turned to you and you could visibly see his birthmark and the crinkles in his eyes— his wet hair swishing on the wind as he turned back around, “That’s my lady!”

Even with the roaring wind underneath the helmet, you felt your heart skipping a beat as you glance at him through the side mirrors. With all the chaos happening in just minutes, you had totally forgotten what happened back in the corporation and the harsh words of your father; you may be labelled as a delusion but Yeosang’s presence had diminished any sort of negative out of your life and being able to see him after months of his resignation.

You were beyond happy and over the moon relief to see him even in the midst of the crowd. It was like fate brought you back to him when you needed him (and probably him needing you the most).

Surprisingly and fortunately, after calling whatever saint you have on your mind left your lips; you arrive at his apartment safe and sound. You hop off the motorbike (with shaking legs) with his help, and remove his helmet, you hear the motorbike turning off with his soft chuckles, “Get used to it, my lady.”

You turned to him with a blank look, “Get used to it?! You swerve each of those cars, beat the red light multiple times and manage to enrage a cop?! Plus you have no gahd damn helmet on! So hell to the no!” He chuckles, taking the helmet from you. You huff making your hair blow away from your face. Your reaction was satisfying in Yeosang’s end as he watches you mumble about being dangerous while taming your wild hair, your golden-brown skin glistening under the lamppost  before turning to him.

“Yeo … we’re gonna get sick.” That snapped him out of his thoughts and cleared his throat to brush off his awkwardness. He swung his leg out of his motorbike, tucking his helmet under his arm, the same arm was a black plastic bag; using his free hand, he grabbed your hand and walked towards the elevator.

After pressing the 8th floor button, he leans on the silver bar and blows out a relieved breath. Catching your eye, he flashes a charming smirk. "Over here," he says, gesturing with an open arm. You hesitate for a beat, unsure of his sudden boldness. He seems to sense your apprehension, shaking his head with a playful smile. Reaching out, he gently takes your arm and pulls you closer, holding you loosely against his side.

You tilt your head to peek up at him, a questioning "Yeo?" escaping your lips.

He meets your gaze, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. He notices a flicker of something in your expression – maybe not discomfort, but a touch of confusion. This earns him a soft chuckle. "Well, with no prying eyes or stuffy protocols around," he murmurs, voice dropping a playful octave, "I finally get to have you close like this."

“What–”

Before you can even stammer out a response, he cuts you off with a teasing grin. "My brilliant lady," he continues, "imagine this – all day you navigate the corporate jungle, juggling numbers, percentages, and intricate company collaborations. You strategize for a dozen objectives, and on top of that, you manage to be a star student, a certified magna cum laude, no less! But..." he trails off dramatically, leaning closer to you to which in your instinct, moving your head backwards,  "do you have even the slightest clue what 'boyfriend' means?"

His teasing question sends a blush creeping up your cheeks at his unexpected praise and playful accusation. You cannot deny nor confirm anything about that last statement— sure your sister have set you up once in a while but you reject the thought of having to meet up with a stranger to fulfil your delusions or fantasies yet here you are in a situation where you couldn’t even breathe much air as how close you are to him or think of what to do next.

“I—” With the sound of the elevator ‘ding’, you took this chance to pull yourself away from him and burn yourself at the other corner of the elevator as a few more people stepped inside. It created a small distance between the two of you yet you could still feel his eyes on you and still feel those cheeks burning.

It took a while to get to Yeosang’s floor, As he brought you inside his apartment; he let you in first before closing the door behind him and the sensory lights open to help you see through the darkness of the hallway before entering the main room. As you were both removing your (semi-wet) shoes on the floor, you were greeted by a small white puff ball– barking oddly similar to a squeaky toy. 

Half of your body spun to see a maltese almost just the same height as Yeosang’s ankles. Tail wagging excitedly upon seeing his owner, looking up to him with its tongue out. “Hello Pom Pom.” The maltese— Pom Pom barks before scurrying away, hoping to get the message to play with him although with your sudden presence it whimpers in surprise before running off, disappearing somewhere else.

“Oh? I didn’t mean to scare her away.” Yeosang chuckles, grabbing a towel that was hanging off his chair and tossing it to you to which you catch it poorly and get caught up in your face. He moves towards the kitchen and pulls out two mugs, “Don’t worry, he always does that whenever Yunho and Seonghwa visit— he always runs away looking for his sister for back up. And even in his tiny form, he bites a lot.”

You smile hearing the cuteness of his dog until you realise what he had mentioned, brows furrowed in confusion, “Hold on— his sister? You have two dogs?” He nodded and to prove that he was telling the truth, the ‘sister’ walked in. You have to hold on two of the dining chairs on how you were suddenly terrified, knees buckling.

A sleek shadow slipped through the hallway. Unlike the playful Maltese, she'd described, this newcomer was all sharp angles and coiled muscle. A Doberman Pinscher, its coat a glistening black, stalked into the room. Its powerful legs moved with a silent grace that belied its formidable size.  Ears, cropped to sharp points, twitched with alertness, and intelligent brown eyes scanned the room, settling on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. The Doberman paused, head held high, its powerful chest barely brushing the doorway. It wasn't snarling or growling, but its presence alone radiated a primal confidence that made the air crackle with tension.

“Y-Yeo…” You heard him move behind you, holding two cups of tea. You went behind him, slightly shaking “Don’t worry. She doesn’t bite.” And set the mugs on top of the table before turning to you, “I’ll give some clothes while you shower, they’ll be on the bed.” You nodded, sitting down at the couch (using his towel so the couch wouldn’t drench), sipping on the tea he made. He walks towards the bedroom, his footsteps echoing softly against the wooden floor. You watch as the Doberman steps further into the room, each step deliberate, its eyes never leaving you. The atmosphere seems to tighten, the silence punctuated only by the distant hum of the refrigerator and the faint drip of water from the sink.

You weren’t able to take care of any sort of pet inside the manor since and you quote, “a filth inside the manor”. You shake your head as a small smile crept up your lips as you took notice of Pom Pom nibbling on the carpet, head wagging side to side until too much force caught her flying next to his sister’s foot; The Doberman scoff, pushing Pom Pom back on his feet using her nose.

The maltese yelp before returning back to nibbling the carpet, at the same time, Yeosang walks back in, “You can take a shower now, my lady.”

It had started raining— storming— rather outside, you could see some tree branches hitting the window, rain splashing on the window plus the harsh wind but your attention was on the tv as Mario kart was on it. You groan, falling back as another round, another defeat; turning to look at Yeosang, he is smiling at the ranks as he takes a shot before refilling it and then giving it to you.

Since the beginning of the game, Yeosang challenges you to drink up each time he wins the game yet at the end, it was him drinking the rest of the 2 bottles he bought from the store (a while ago before he saw you on the street). Yeosang, for the past hours since you had crashed into his place, reminded you of a place back in the Philippines. Your mom’s “kubo”.

The small hut that is made out of natural sources and a traditional Filipino house. The smell and lightweight of bamboo abundance aromas the entire house, most especially when it rains, the coldness that turns into a comfort and will lull you to sleep as you laid down on a soft mattress and the Nipa Palm leaves,, the way it is woven together and then when it’s night time, a rope to separate the leaves to stargaze. 

It felt like that. It felt like home. He felt like home.

“... hey, you okay?” You were snapped out of your thoughts by a warm hand above yours. You blink several times before gazing at Yeosang; his eyes were glossy with curiosity and weariness. He knew what state you are in—I mean, who wouldn’t be able to rest if day by day your corporation goes down including the never ending rumours and articles spreading online and people talk as if they were a victim of the business nor were there to witness the bad side of the corporation—he is respecting your space and sanity until you spoke up about your situation. He knew how hard it is, he knew how it must be a huge burden for you as the heir and the CEO of the corporation.

You inhaled, giving him a small yet tight smile feeling the small fur in your palm—Pom Pom placing himself in between your leg and by your hip were preoccupied by Suchan, the Doberman. “Yeah … just a lot in my mind.”

He nodded, leaning back on the couch. You sit side by side, watching the preview rounds show in the t.v as background noise adding the sound of the storm has lulled your body to a relaxed state yet your mind doesn’t cooperate. Yeosang turns his head to the side, eyeing your side profile before you turn to face him also, catching by surprise but mask it with a natural look, although his cheeks were red.

“... Do you think everything will turn out good in the end?” You whisper, fingers ghosting on the fur of Suchan. She huffs curling closer to you as she naps beside your hip.

Yeosang sighs softly, “Every problem has its own solution and every solution has a different answer.” You both were silent, letting the noises accumulate some kind of sound besides the tension between you both, “But…”

You listen closely, “But what?” 

Yeosang reaches over, taking your hand in his large one, “But you have to come up with your own, not everything solves with the given solution.”

“But will it end well?” He sighs, playing with your fingers before clasping them tightly in his hand; your heart soaring up to your cheeks creating a red burning hue all over them, “I guarantee you that if it's good or bad, everything still has a solution to end something in a different path.”

You look down, watching his fingers intertwined with yours. The contact feels intimate, like a promise. "Will I be okay?" The question slips out, meant for your mind only, yet it finds voice in the quiet room. Yeosang squeezes your hand gently but firmly, his eyes searching yours. "Only you can answer that, my lady."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you try to blink them away, but a few escape, tracing silent paths down your cheeks. "I'm so scared, Yeosang," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Everything feels like-- no, everything is falling apart, and I don't know if I'm strong enough to hold it all together."

He shifts closer, his presence a solid, reassuring anchor in your turbulent sea of emotions. "You are stronger than you think," he murmurs, his thumb gently wiping away a tear. "I've seen you face challenges that would break others. You have a resilience that inspires those around you."

You shake your head, the weight of doubt and fear pressing heavily on your chest. "But what if I fail? What if I can't find the right solution?"

Yeosang's grip tightens, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering determination. "Then you'll try again. And again, if you have to. Failure isn't the end; it's just another step towards finding the answer. And you won't be alone. I'll be here, every step of the way."

A small, tentative smile tugs at your lips, gratitude swelling in your heart. "Thank you," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for believing in me, even when I can't believe in myself."

Yeosang finds himself leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead— probably something out of his personality and something to blame to Wooyoung the next time he sees him back in his province. But his actions melted you and your heart and it melted him too, seeing what he did felt right after all.

 "Always, my lady. Always."

You close your eyes, savoring the moment, the warmth of his touch, and the comfort of his words. For the first time in what feels like forever, a spark of hope flickers within you. The road ahead is uncertain, but with Yeosang by your side, you feel a glimmer of strength returning. As the silence settles back over you, Suchan's soft snoring filling the room, you allow yourself to believe, just for a moment, that everything might turn out okay in the end.

taglist: @yeosangsbabygirlsblog, @hi-kariii,@ateez-atiny380

[rejnka]

A whole damn essay I wrote about the Talking Flowers

So I've seen mixed reactions to the Talking Flowers. Some find them fun, some find them annoying, some didn't find them at all by virtue of not playing the game in the first place, but they're very starkly a part of the game's identity. Naturally, some people have connected them to the recent trend - often associated with the Marvel Cinematic Universe - of characters responding with snarky quips to 'absurd' situations.

The principle of this trope - hereby referred to as 'that happening' - is that the creators of a piece of media expecting you to find it worthy of ridicule. I'll be frank - it was funny the first few times, but it's a thing that works in moderation. I'll admit to making exhasperated remarks when something particularly absurd happens in *my* life, but overuse and misuse of 'that happening' makes the characters seem less real instead of more. It also just produces a bit of an emotional drain when you're trying to enjoy something sincerely, while not producing any real appeal to someone who would already find the work absurd. Frankly it should have been kept to mediocre family films.

The talking flowers are similar to a certain degree, often being there to comment on the variety of odd situations that Mario and his friends come across in their adventure. However, rather than the bare cynicism of 'that happening', each flower seems to be utterly engrossed in the world around them. They cheer on their heroes in moments big and small, and stand engrossed in the titular emotion when they see an impressive enough Wonder. They cry out in fear of monsters and grow tired in the heat like they're really there. They also say some... really offbeat things sometimes, but that's just as well. Rather than trying to drag the work down to the audience's level, they try to lift the audience's spirits to match the work.

I'll admit that I'm someone who doesn't really... feel wonder. I can't remember if I ever have, and I don't expect that I ever will. Honestly, I just picked up Super Mario Bros. Wonder because I liked Super Mario World a lot and it seemed closer to that than to New Super Mario Bros. - which I maintain was a mediocre subseries. However, the Talking Flowers wound up being my favorite part of the game. Even if they're just game characters, I feel myself caught up in their happiness. It might not have truly changed me, but even if it was vicariously, that was the first time I could experience wonder.

So thanks, Nintendo - and here's to many wonders to come.

[talentdelunecomic]

Arc 2.5

(Part 2) (foreword)

“...Nice one, Chu,” he mutters a couple minutes later, squashed into the corner of the elevator shaft. You’d think a booming business like this could build wider elevators, damn. “We can kiss that dream budget goodbye thanks to—” He gestures at the blood on Ambre. “—all this.”

“Sorry for having scruples,” Sarah grumbles back. The adrenaline crash has left her disappointed and low. She’s stuck in close quarters with two people she’s quite upset at, currently, and she still can’t even see.

Ambre seems to lean over, audibly shuffling in place. “Are you mad at us, Sarah?” She seems younger than she is, like this, her voice disembodied and childish. Granted, Sarah really can’t vouch for her maturity, and that’s not even considering the child-rearing acumen of a top-secret, governmental, child-soldier factory.

When she thinks about that too hard, a buzzing sense of anxiety rises in her chest. Is she a hypocrite, for raising a stink about Talent technology restrictions while averting her eyes from the moral crisis of Ambre’s entire thirteen years of life?

“I’m kind of mad at you,” Sarah responds, curling tighter into a ball and clutching her suitcase like a blanket.

Ambre huffs unhappily.

“Mostly I’m mad at Penwood.”

He’s unbothered. “Great, ‘cause I’m mad at you too. We can all be mad at each other.”

He’s infuriating, sometimes. Sarah has never expected emotional heavy-lifting from Penwood, not even when they first met and she didn’t know him—he was her boss, after all. He was practical and unconventional enough to immediately promote her to the highest position he could bargain for, but it had nothing to do with sentiment. Though he seems to have grown fond of her over these past six years, he hasn’t changed. He’s as stubborn and selfish as ever.

“If I’m that troublesome, why not just let me get killed?” Sarah attacks, and then immediately regrets it. She sounds like a moody teenager. She sounds like his disregard for her objections hurt her. It’s true, but it’s pitiful.

Penwood seems to soften, just a bit. “You’re both troublesome, but I’d get bored if either of you died or disappeared. You’re more important than fully-funded mad science.” He says the last bit with reluctant resignation, but as a whole…

Those were pretty kind words, coming from Penwood. Sarah cracks a smile.

“Yeah,” she says, “you guys need me around to keep you in check.”

“Aww, I hate being in check,” Ambre sighs.

“So what now, kid?” Penwood asks. “You’re the one with the sense of propriety—you decide what we do next. We’re essentially blind, definitely trapped, and every single person in this building wants to track us down and kill us.”

Ambre grins. “The dead ones don’t. Want me to make them all dead?”

Penwood contemplates it.

“Not this time,” Sarah says, and her smile begins to grow as she gets to her feet. “I’ve got an idea.”

---

Sarah stands before the Power Room. The only thing between her and that plasma is a 20-character passcode and three feet of solid steel.

…That sounds more intimidating than it actually is.

Hey, the three of them made it out of that elevator shaft and down to the basement with zero tools!

A little clumsily, perhaps, but they made it down. Now they just need to get inside that room.

Sarah examines the digital lock, Penwood and Ambre hovering over her shoulders to watch. She doubts she’ll be able to guess the passcode, even if she did catch a glimpse when Sec. Malla let them in on the tour. She’s going to have to crack the mechanism open manually and determine a course of action from there.

“Ambre.” Sarah turns to her. “Help me with–”

“Wait.”

The three of them freeze.

“…Just let us do this,” Sarah pleads.

Secretary Sarah Malla offers no sympathy, dry and unforgiving. “What are you planning to do in the Power Room?” she asks.

“You know it’s not right to give this tech to people who might misuse it.” Sarah steps forward and Sec. Malla moves the gun in her direction. Ambre tenses, glances between them, and deliberately untenses. Sarah slows way down.

“When you say things like that, it makes you sound like a child,” Malla says. Sarah is quietly offended. She’s 23. “You think the government won’t misuse your technology? You think they aren’t misusing it right now?”

“I…”

No, she wants to say, I trust them. They’ve taken care of me since I was 17. But even without saying it aloud, suddenly the words don’t feel good enough.

“I’d still choose one group with scary-ass lasers over two.”

Sarah turns, surprised. Penwood ambles forward, hands in his pockets and genuinely pretty unconcerned by the gun. He sighs at her. “You’re catching flies, kid.” She closes her open mouth.

He continues. “The FHTC’s not perfect, but our boss is actually a total goody-two-shoes. It’s annoying, but in terms of—” He rolls his eyes and finger quotes. “—society’s ethics, she’s a decent person, I guess. And a hard worker.”

Sarah’s heart warms. He’s actually kind of getting it. He’s actually trying to help.

“Well! None of that matters to me,” Ambre chirps, “but Sarah is a grown-up woman! Don’t call her a child, she tries really hard to be responsible!” By the end of the sentence, her voice goes affronted on Sarah’s behalf, and she drops into a rare angry frown. “You’re a woman too, so you should know it’s annoying when people act like you don’t know anything while you’re trying to make a point.”

Malla stares at all of them, unwavering for one heartbeat, two. Then she stops aiming at them and lifts the pistol like she’s showing it off. It’s got the safety on, Sarah realizes. Malla was bluffing.

She sets the gun down and points at the door to the Power Room. “Don’t mess with the digital lock. If you input the wrong code or force it open, it’ll tase you.”

Sarah breaks into an incredulous laugh. Ambre is already grinning, and Penwood huffs in amusement. “So you’ll help us?” Sarah asks, just to be sure.

Malla shrugs, and a small, warm smile settles on her face. “We do have the same name,” she says.

Sarah’s cheeks hurt from smiling in return. “I suppose.”

---

A loud thud echoes through the chamber. Then again, and again. With a lot of repetitive effort, the main door finally slams open.

“Goodness, people!” Bright shouts, beaming angrily. “Take a little longer, why don’t you? How hard can it be to ram down a door?!”

“It’s three feet of solid, electrified steel,” a security guard points out.

“Regardless!”

A crowd of employees and guards swarm into the Power Room, sweeping through the aisles. Bright follows, dusting off his already immaculate suit. “Find Sarah Chu and her little friends,” he commands. “And for god’s sake, watch out for that red-haired gremlin! She’s ruthless!” He shudders.

“Hey, Bright!”

His head snaps up, and then his expression drops with dawning horror.

“How’s it going?”

“Now hold on…” Bright is sweating. “We can talk this out!”

Sarah’s jerry-rigged the control panel for the plasma vats. With one press of a button, the glass covers preventing their contents from ‘evaporating into the air and wasting a million dollars’ will pop open.

“I apologize for trying to kill you!” Bright calls to her, inanely. “Why don’t we renegotiate? I’d love to have you on my payroll, even now! And…and we would be very responsible with your technology, oh yes! Tell her, Malla!”

“He told me he wanted to make Talent suppressor water-guns,” Malla says. “For the youth.™”

“I never said that!” Bright lies. “Listen, I don’t think you understand how much money we’re willing to offer you! You could do anything you wanted! No rules, no restrictions, no one standing in your way. You’d be set for life; your great-great-great grandchildren would be set for life! You don’t need to worry about anyone else!”

Penwood and Ambre listen to his speech, open-mouthed. Of course they would; as much as they care about Sarah on a personal level, Bright’s pitching them their wildest dreams. But this decision isn’t up to them, it’s up to her.

They may be selfish, but Penwood made things clear—they like her better than mad-science and power trips.

And that sort of selfishness is just fine with her.

“No one’s forcing me to worry about people,” Sarah calls down. “No one’s forcing me to worry about anything! And all those rules and restrictions, they don’t bother me. If they make the world a better place, why would I have a problem?”

“They…!” Bright sputters. “They make the world a boring place! They make it a safe place! Don’t you understand, Ms. Chu?!”

“Yeah, better than you!” Sarah yells. “And that’s Doctor Chu!!”

She pushes the button.

Bright clutches at his skull, gibbering in disbelief while his employees freeze at the loss of guidance. Ambre laughs and tries to grab at the mist like a child. Penwood sighs, grumpy as usual, but he watches the air glow with a sort of wonder. Malla nudges Sarah’s arm.

“Hey. Is this stuff going to poison us?”

Sarah chuckles, “Probably not!”

“How reassuring.”

The air is still purple as the four of them descend to the main floor. Bright is scrambling, trying to push the glass covers back into place, for all the good they’ll do now.

“You…” He turns to Sarah, his expression the utter picture of despair. “Look what you’ve done. I’ll— I’ll sue you! I’ll ruin your life! You’ll be fired!!”

Sarah crosses her arms. “Of course I won’t,” she huffs. “You literally tried to kill me.”

The words seem to spark something in him, and Bright lunges for a nearby guard’s holster. He shoves the gun right in her face, hand shaking with rage, and Sarah’s stomach drops into her feet.

If moments like this move in slow-mo on TV, Sarah realizes that in real life, they’re like a blur. She catches glimpses, Penwoods hair in front of her, his elbow jabbing into her side on accident. Ambre’s hand outstretched, close to the barrel, about to throw his aim up to the ceiling.

Before Bright can fire, however, a raised voice gives him pause.

“When you called me, Chu, I can admit I was hoping to discover that the mess you three have landed yourselves in was the result of a misunderstanding. Clearly, my hopes have been dashed.”

All of them turn. Framed in the main doorway is Miriam Bosser, the head of the science division, and Sarah, Penwood, and Ambre’s direct supervisor.

The goody-two-shoes.

“Stand down, Brandon Bright,” Miriam says. From behind her, FHTC officers file into the room, and the Bright employees quickly surrender their weapons.

“This is…ridiculous,” Bright wheezes, the gun dropping from his hand. Sarah spares it a glance, then does a double-take. Oh yeah, he’s an idiot. It’s got the safety on.

Malla sets a hand on Bright’s shoulder. He stares up at her, pleading, like she can summon up a miracle and fix the disaster he caused.

“Mr. Bright,” Malla says. “I resign.”

Bright’s head drops down in defeat.

It’s over.

---

“You are not getting off scot free,” Miriam says sternly. “Not this time.”

The chaos is settling down. Sarah’s heart rate has returned to normal. Ambre is back to being bored. All in a day’s work!

“Sure, sure,” Penwood says, obnoxiously. “Just give us a slap on the wrist and let us get back to work.”

“I don’t think you realize the magnitude of this screw-up,” Miriam insists. “Bright Industries is our main supplier of Talent Plasma, and guess what they no longer have any stock of? Crale is going to rip my head off for allowing you three to run around unsupervised.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sarah asks, offended.

“You’re like children. When the three of you join together, the results are explosive. You’re the black sheep of the FHTC. If you weren’t so important, we’d have fired you—”

“Okay! Damn, that’s harsh!”

Miriam sighs. “My head is going to be ripped off.”

“Sorry for being so troublesome!”

“Don’t apologize.” Penwood grins. “You talk a big game, but you like rushing into danger as much as me and Ambre do. That’s why Miriam’s lumping you in with us.”

“That’s silly,” Sarah sputters. “I do not like danger!”

“You were the one who wanted to destroy all that plasma,” Ambre muses, “instead of running away.”

“I just—!”

Miriam’s eyes laser in on Sarah. “Is this true?” she asks, low and dangerous.

Sarah freezes. No other choice. She turns and runs. “Maybe-it’s-true-but-you-can’t-judge-me-I-was-under-duress-okay-see-you-later!!”

“Sarah Chu!” Miriam yells after her. “Get back here! You are actively being troublesome right now!”

It’s easy to forget her worries, with Ambre and Penwood cackling and the wind in her face and the adrenaline of the day still simmering under her skin. It’s easy to ignore the questions she faced and the answers she couldn’t give.

When you say things like that, it makes you sound like a child. You think the government won’t misuse your technology? You think they aren’t misusing it right now?

Hey, she said it herself! Sarah isn’t the most righteous person in the world.

Eventually, she’ll have no choice but to face herself. She isn’t quite sure what she’ll do, when that day comes. Will she run away again? Will it be right to run?

In the meantime, a few more mistakes can’t hurt.

---

Later that month, Sarah will have her first encounter with her dream girl. …Maybe her nightmare girl. How ironic!

Well, she does like danger.

[cloudbellsv3]

How about these for the ask game?

6. Least favorite movie

9. Favorite fight scene

21. Unpopular opinion about anything

34. Favorite outfit/look of the character of your choice

HI THANKS!!! <3

6. Least favorite movie

I was gonna say this was hard because I don’t think I have an MCU movie I despise, but also not really hard at all: every Thor movie after the dark world for the OG6. More recently Quantumania. I enjoyed Quantumania, but I’m not a fan, if that makes sense? I think I was just overall disappointed with Kang in this movie. I was sooooo hyped, like unbelievably hyped, about seeing Ant-Man and Kang fight. I rewatched the trailer countless times, I obsessed over the soundtrack - I was really into it. And it fell really flat towards the end for me. I was expecting more. Nonetheless, the world and idea of it is still super cool to me and I may even rewatch it.

For the post-TDW Thor movies, I’m being insanely petty because I can’t even remember Ragnarok clearly and I haven’t watched Love and Thunder. I remember enjoying Ragnarok, but I also remember disliking it. I think I felt it was weird on the characterization front and also too comedic in a bad way. The things I’ve heard about Love and Thunder makes it seem that it has the same issues as Ragnarok, but like, way worse. I still plan on watching it though, because I don’t like speaking on things I have no business speaking on lol. 

I’m just really sensitive about Thor characterization, I’ve realized. I think he’s so complex and I really don’t like to see him…portrayed as a shallow clown. Or a fool. Or any resembling that. I adore Thor, so so much and so I’m extra nitpicky about him. He has depth and insight that deserves to be explored! I don’t understand where the MCU is trying to take him, but I don’t like it! Same with Bruce, kind of.

Honorable mention: AOU but only for that scene where Bruce fell into Natasha’s boobs. Literally so fucking ridiculous, I will never pass up a chance to talk about how much hatred I have towards that cliche - ugh. 

9. Favorite fight scene

I answered this in the previous ask, but I’ll add another one! Not so much of a fight…but a pre-fight maybe. STEVE IN ENDGAME WHERE HE FACES THANOS’ ARMY ALONE. I melt into a puddle each time. I tear up each time. As I’m typing this my eyes are getting misty because I love that moment so much. It encapsulates Steve Rogers (Captain America) so damn well that it makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs. A lone, human, with a broken shield, knowing it’s completely hopeless, but standing up to fight anyways cause the vulnerable people who rely on him are more important than fearing what’s in front of him. I LOVE STEVE THAT’S MY MAN, MY ONE AND ONLY, I WILL NEVER GET OVER EG STEVE. 

This is also why I hate when people bash EG for his last 10 minutes of screentime because we have some of his absolute BEST moments in this movie. Literally so fucking good…and people want to circlejerk over how much they hate him because he decided to go back in the past. Mind you, I’m a former “I’m not fond of Steve’s ending because I feel like it doesn’t fit him, but I don’t blame Steve for it” fan - but after all the slander, I’m now the type to draw up an essay on why it makes perfect sense for him to make that decision. 

21. Unpopular opinion about anything

I’m trying to think of a #real unpopular MCU opinion that I haven’t said before. One of my pet peeves is when someone asks for an unpopular opinion and it’s like the coldest take you’ve ever heard, lol. I don’t want to be that. I’m realizing I have a huge mouth and talk too much because everything I’m thinking I’ve already said, examples being: 

Endgame Steve going back into the past makes perfect sense for his character arc and the circumstances he’s had in the future

I’m not sure if this is unpopular in my corner of fandom or overall: IM1 Tony still holds at least some responsibility for his weapons being…misused. I mean, I feel like even Tony acknowledges this and I don’t even think he’s wrongly giving some blame to himself. I think it shows his self-awareness…and I like that about his character. I know a lot of people say that Tony doesn’t do accountability, but I’d say he absolutely does. Half of his mistakes in the following movies are because he’s trying to find a way to atone. It’s moreso a lot of his fans that like to absolve him of his mistakes, he seems to own up to them pretty frequently. Not always verbally.

Oh! I just thought of one that yes, I’ve said…but I think I’ve said it in DMs not publicly (or maybe I said it in the server before)? Also it’s not even an MCU criticism. I think every conversation surrounding SteveTony in CACW is automatically in bad faith if we only discuss the murder of Howard and Maria and not the Accords. This is partially why I’m in a state of constant annoyance when giving CACW fics a chance. I don’t think it’s a fair or honest discussion or break down without looking at the two main corners of the conflict. Because the Accords is not something to gloss over people! The implications of what would happen to people like Steve is not something to be taken lightly. And the way they were presented is not - Let me stop here before I fall into a rant. I have some self-control.

34. Favorite outfit/look of the character of your choice

I love, love, love Steve’s AOU suit. Well, aesthetic wise at least. They could lose the red accent on the chest and it would be 10x better. But if I’m going for Captain America realism, I’m throwing in my vote for the CW suit! I was going to say the Smithsonian suit was my favorite (lowkey is….) but someone told me that it’s a replica and isn’t fully accurate to the suit he wears in CATFA and frankly, I’ve never checked to confirm. But if that’s wrong, then the Smithsonian suit is absolute my favorite. I can’t even tell you why I like it so much. Classic. Leather. It could benefit from a tighter fit, but the look of it screams Captain America to me <3

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK <3 <3 <3

[zuzajs14]

Thanks for tagging me @birdstiel 💕

I guess we are doing it. Let's expose ourselves.

8 series to get to know me:

- Supernatural - obviously. my current hyperfixation as you can all tell. I am rather obsessive consumer of media but there are not that many shows close to my heart. and while I despise it deeply (I am a writer and bad storytelling kills me), I am also unable to not love it. this show had many great ideas and even bigger potential, many amazing characters who's story I woul love to explore. the unused or misused or badly used possibilities... damn it.

- Once Upon a Time - listen, i know it's low budget with shitty special effects (the poorly done fire every fucking time). but this is my comfort show. the idea is great, there are a lot of strong women (and one pirate who I am madly in love with). it's not very bright but I never needed it to be. it's just... fairytales, you know. comfort. and my beloved trait of gray morality - evil is made, not born ect, ect

- Doctor Who - this shit saved me. i am not sci fi person much (with exceptions, sure). but this silly man(I use it as a gender neutral term, like - damn, man) in a box, that fights the good fight... a pacifist that killed whole races (the bad ones, sure, but you know). and this otherworldly creature just struggles with so many emotions and is damned to feel forever lonely while having so many people live them... It's AAAAA. sure there are bad episodes. but who cares. i love it

- Our flag means death - you may not now this about me (but everyone in rl DOES as it's my personality) but I love pirates. like a lot. so obviously I care the silly gay pirates show. and I generally like Taika's projects. it's just adorable. makes me feel warm and fuzzy. and has a bit of angst. niceeee

- What we do in the shadows - again, silly and gay. i like gay media, what a suprise. and I love dumb characters. and they are all sooooo fucking stupid. love it. and ya know, vampires ( i have pirates and vampires, I need silly gay cowboys next)

- Game of Thrones - I am still so fucking mad. but I am also a sucker for dark fantasy. the costumes, the drama, the freaking politics and magic. also Jaime and Brienne. this dynamic is all to me. i've read the books to. and it's good storytelling. but unfinished... so sure the show fucked it up. tragic, really (still not emotionally ready to rewatch it dhdjdjd)

- Good Omens - Neil Gaiman is my favourite author. Really. Terry Pratchett is high on that list too. and as Neil supervised this adaptation... and it has David Tennant and Michael Sheen... couldn't go wrong. and is just hilarious and tender and full of love (and biblical motives which is something I value a lot - Gabriel shouting he's buying pornography lives rent free in my head)

- Broadchurch - you can't tell by this list but I like criminal shows too! (I was thinking os putting Sherlock on the list cause I care it a lot too and bonded with my mum over it buuuuut... somehow Broadchurch won, being fresher in my memory) again it has David Tennant, who's work I enjoy a great deal. and it's really good story that kept me on my toes. first season is my favourite

Huh. It was hard choosing only 8. Special mentions go to Sherlock, The Terror and One Piece (pirates!)

Okay, I will shut up now. This is way too long anyhow

No pressure tags (I still hate tagging people, I don't want to annoy anyone but I am curious about yours!)

@naughtystiel @fluffsnake @valeron99 @archervale @werepires (still intimated by you but if you want 👉👈)

And anyone who wants to! You can tag me and I will defo read it! I would gladly see all of my mutuals do it, but as I haven't talked to most of you, I am still shy about bothering you...

[emmythespacecowgirl]

Hi lovely! I was wondering If I could get another BoB ship from you whenever you aren’t busy? 💗I just love how descriptive your ships are and i couldn’t help but ask again! (i Also made quite a bit changes from my first one description LOL)

I’m a female (she/her) , i have big heart, i’m funny, I like to relax, but i also can be energetic. I love to chill and listen to music. I can have a bit of a short temper at times (I just think it’s because I don’t put up with peoples bs LMAO)

, I can also be very stubborn, i’m very loyal, like VERY loyal and I will always stick up for the people i love and go above and beyond to make the people around me happy. which I think that can also lead me to being hurt or misused by friends) I can be a little emotional at times, maybe a little dirty minded too lol,

i love to cook, i’m a dog lover (really just an animal lover at that), and i’m competitive and passionate. I’m a very driven person and if it’s something I want to do i’ll make SURE it gets done. I Make up my own rules and I don’t give into unfair ideas that are put up around me. I lead with my heart and my emotions and if that gets me into trouble then so be it.

i also LOVE scary movies, true crime, all that stuff, i’m also a SUCKER for reality tv 😭 (tlc does have some good drama though) I would say im charming and it’s more of my talking and my smile that gets guys. I’m a bit of a germaphobe and maybe little ocd.

Imma southern gal who’s very short, (5.0) I think I have more of an innocent look (despite my wild attitude LMAO) I have big brown eyes, wavy light chocolate brown hair, big lips, only like a couple light freckles on my nose ( you can see them better in the summer) , button nose, and an olive skintone that has paled over time, I would say I have more of a petite/hourglass figure but I think my chest is what catches people’s eyes (Im a size DD LOL)

I have high standards, I can be very sympathetic, and I also can usually tell when people are in pain or when their vibe is off in general. I usually just joke or “laugh it off” and I can be very deadpan when something bothers me, or if it’s something that really hurt me I usually just shut down and become cold or distant. i’m an INTP, My hogwarts house is Hufflepuff ( even though I honestly thought I was a slytherin for so long 😭)

My love language is physical touch for giving and acts of service as receiving (it’s really just the little things and showing that you care about what I’m saying or just being thoughtful). I grew up with brothers so i love watching sports and playing them (We grew up in a very competitive household lol) i’m very very family oriented, I’m a sagittarius, I like to play the piano, and read and write in my free time. and In the summers I love to fish and swim at my boathouse. And springtime is my favorite season!

Make sure to take care of yourself and and stay hydrated, even rest if you need too! ❣️ Thank you in advance :)

Hi Love!! Thanks for submitting again!

I ship you with:

George Luz from Band of Brothers!

ship theme song: Rum and Coca Cola by the Andrews Sisters

oof baby this man would bend over backwards to make you smile!

the first thing that stood out to him

besides your bustline

was your instant charm and friendliness

George, like yourself, grew up with lots of siblings

so he was constantly having to stand out to be heard

and i think he recognizes that scrappiness in you too :)

watching any kind of movie with you both is such a blast

you both provide your own commentary

and it is truly hilarious

especially during any kind of horror movie

"its just.. so bad it's good!" George will giggle

you've even gotten George to watch some reality tv with you recently

he thinks it's so damn funny

you both playfully joke about all the dumb characters in the shows

some days you both love going out and being around your people

you definitely make the cutest party couple!

but sometimes you both just really like to sit and chill together and listen to some good music

ngl your taste in music has definitely influenced his

he loves bragging about you to the boys

he'll show them pictures of you with your dog

or standing over a fantastic meal that you just made

you both enjoy making the people you love happy

unfortunately, not everyone deserves your time and energy

and you both learn that in your own different ways

but when you're sad or frustrated

a hug from George seems to lighten your mood right up!

and he's really good at hugging so please ask for more hugs

you and George can be childishly competitive together

like over how many friends you've pranked that week

or how many marshmallows you can fit in you mouth at one time

George is a big physical touch guy

you want hugs?

he gives the best hugs :)

when you play the piano, he can't help but sing along

he loves how family-oriented you are

and he can't wait to start his own family with you one day <3

[ibrianedp]

iThink #50: I talk about my past and here's why

I stare at the setting sun at a restaurant in Laoag City. The photograph was taken on July 18, 2024.

Forgetting has always been a bad experience for me. As a kid, I felt embarrassed for fumbling during class recitations. As a journalist, I become my harshest critic whenever I fail to remember crucial details. I call myself an idiot for missing a key question that needed to be asked. “Ang tanga mo talaga, Briane” is my line when I overlook previously reported information that had to be added into the story for context. Over the years, I have come to believe that to forget is a sin that I must avoid.

Telling stories has been my go-to solution to resist forgetting. Time has repeatedly witnessed the power of narratives to shape people’s minds. Unfortunately, though, some have misused this power by distorting accounts of what had truly happened. Often when these distortions are left unchallenged and not corrected, they can erase history and replace it with a new, twisted tale. That is why whenever people ask me about something that I know, I do my best to answer them and back it up with proof.

More than ending speculation, telling stories helps me appreciate some things for what they were. I have faced challenges and felt pain numerous times, but some of these moments led to success, hope, friendship, and love. That makes my appreciation all the more profound and essential. To tell stories is to draw strength from these precious bits in the past to face the present and the future head-on. To reminisce the good things that were is to not forget the roots of the person I am.

Other people may say, “I do not want to talk about it.” Some choose to remain silent and even forget about what they went through, and that is okay. I admit that even I tried to forget some extremely sorrowful chapters to free myself of emotional baggage. However, I would eventually realize that even if I try hard to forget these things, I will just remember them. Besides, to throw away those memories is to deny how I have built my character.

The song chorus goes, "Even if you mean the whole damn world to me, I can forget you. Wait and see, I can be strong even without you. I can't waste my life forever, hoping you'd come back to me, but deep inside, I know I'll be waiting here for you."

As an adult, I choose to narrate my experiences to honor the people who have played a part in my life. Some of them have come and gone, but they have made an indelible mark. I thank them for the laughter and tears as well as the lessons they have taught me. They all have a space in my heart that no one could ever take away, and that is why I do not forget them.

[seaweedstarshine]

I just finished reading your meta on the NineRiver audios and honestly at first I was feeling a bit hesitant because of how I got exposed to the naysayers' takes first. But glad I finally felt brave enough to peek under the cut.

I love how you point out that the Doctor is always unsettled with the concept of having a wife in any regeneration because it's not that they hate River (which I've seen was the conclusion of some after listening to the audios 🫥), it's that they didn't think they'd ever be in a relationship, much more married of all things.

Also wanna ask if it's possible to have a clarification on the statement "River does not hide her infatuation". Unless it was used with a different meaning to what it usually has. Because by this point, she's past that infatuation stage? (Do we count Mels as the infatuation stage? I think early baby River could maybe count as infatuation stage too?)

Okay and the part where you point out that River barely notices the Doctor's new bodies is such a cool one because I JUST REALIZED IT. You know that thing where you ingest something but it takes you some time before said thing gets processed (usually by someone else pointing it out)? Yes, that's me.

Totally still laughing over Nine being "totally doing that kind of stuff with you, River, sans the guns" and around two regenerations later, he's totally doing that kind of stuff with River with the guns. He learned rather quickly that he has the tendency to give River what she wants lol (also headcanoning that Eleven had fashioned a hidden gun panel in the TARDIS console "just in case you need it River" but of course since we love angst he never was able to show it to her because she'd swanned off to the Library and he kept seeing her data ghost in the corner of his eye) (also could it be that the reason why Eleven is more "okay" sort of with her and her guns is because he understands her trauma and how having her gun around is sort of like her security blanket?)

Oh and Archipelago, my beloved. My heart hurt with Swipe Right, laughed a bit with Face of the Apocalypse, but damn, Archipelago. Damn. It made me bawl for a bit longer afterwards. I just love when Big Finish writers get DoctorRiver.

I'm gonna be dragging my heels a bit here though because although I originally went along with the QPR feels after my first listen (yes I listened to it again *⁠\⁠0⁠/⁠*), then a moot on Twitter pointed out that Nine and River had definitely fucked in the middle of the time storm. And I was like "WAIT WHAT WHEN WHERE" because how? I mean they were covered in corals by that time yeah? And moot said it happened near the end when they were acting "like a couple again" (must be after Nine read River's diary and got to know her, understand her). River described their time together while writing in her diary and mentioned "and then finally we lay together again". I had thought it meant literally lying down together but River being River, it could have meant they had, well, fucked. I don't understand the how of it though XD but they're River and the Doctor so kudos to them I guess?

erm this was quite long sorry for that >⁠.⁠<

ever questioning, Tia 💌

Thanks Tia! I liked your Star-Crossed initial review too :) “I also love how this smashes any belief that River forces the Doctor to have sex with her or do anything that the Doctor is uncomfortable with.” because YES. Yes, yes, yes. Anyway. A cut before I respond to each of these things.

1) Right?? Swipe Right could not have been more direct in repeating that the Doctor was bothered by the idea of marriage/relationships, not by River herself. The way writers give us aroace Nine, and some people can only see their ship war? Ah well.

2) Oh my god I totally misused infatuation — editing that! How do words work haha. I was thinking along the lines of… “Someone you can walk into your life and make you see everything completely differently.” “Harvey said that to me. Oh, believe me, Captain. The Doctor has already done that to me, multiple times.” Falling in love with the same person again and again… like older couples who consistently put in the work to go on regular dates, lighting these new sparks with new experiences even after being together for decades… couples like the Doctor and River. (Oh, my sweet Mels. There is a thin line between infatuation and brainwashing </3 Personally, I would say student River was her infatuation phase — researching him for positive reasons instead of murderous ones.)

3) River barely noticing the different bodies is so. <3 This corporeal form that is so tied to a human's sense of identity — yet to River or the Master, it’s no different than a particularly-physically-taxing change of clothes. Who hasn’t regenerated a few times? River gets to judge him for insisting on the face of a twelve-year-old. River gets to shoot off his hats. (Eleven radiating his “How do you do fellow kids?” energy.)

4) Oh yes, Nine and Ten were so self-righteous about guns. (River was so cute with Ten, too!) Ah, if Eleven had treated UNIT the way Ten had. Rory with his auton wrist-gun. Bad girl Churchill with his revolver. Miscellaneous Americans. I like to think the heart-to-heart over Wilf’s gun coinciding perfectly with regeneration helped him get past it; Eleven’s no-gun rule seems a lot more “good men don’t need rules, today is not the day to find out why I have so many” vibes. He doesn’t trust himself to use guns, but he does trust River — he believes in her far more than she believes in herself. (That said, YES— I really love the idea of the Doctor being very supportive of young student River having her guns, so that she feels safe. Even if she has PTSD flashbacks/brainwashing relapses and tries to kill him, he couldn’t care less; his only priority is making sure she feels safe and comfy, when she can. I wrote a fic with that as a theme lmao.) (Why you gotta BREAK MY HEART (girl I’m glad you do). Eleven standing alone against the colorless, minimalist console, hands pressed over the secret gun compartment he prepared — to show her how much she means to him — paralyzed by grief, torn between the need to be near to her and the need to protect himself from further heartsbreak, listening to River move around the room. Do you think River had her favorite alpha-meson blaster in the Library? He'll never be able to retrieve it. Nardole's not going to know to grab a gun.)

5) Oh, Archipelago. The way it completely gets these two, from the glorious to the dysfunctional, to the root reasons they just work. Secrets call for trust; but trust without the need of secrets becomes something so beautiful. Also, there's something I appreciate about the handling of an aspect that seems to get confused (by those who speculate “it's not love, the timeline forced it” as per that infamous-ish Harbo Wholmes video (okay, it's infamous-ish to doctorriver fans. Harbo has some misses haha); like we need further proof having a wedding isn't the only way to whisper in your lover’s ear). Nine's “Don't you wanna see what that's like to be with me, not cause it's preordained or prophesyed, just two people bobbing about taking it slow?” leading to their sharing secrets no other Doctor and River had shared before. The exploration wherein — far from their relationship being forced by the timeline — the temporal constraints of the fixed points of their deaths actually mean they have to work even harder for the relationship to be what it is, yet they create together something cosmically beautiful out of tragedy (“you know how much I use [the VM] to bind our lives together.”).

6) Huh, yeah, “And finally, we lay together again, in the height of the dark” sounded to me about lying down too! I did get the impression that lying down was the default since the coral infection (at least for River). River does love her innuendos in their verbal dance of wit (aka flirting), but it’s her diary, not the Bible… I think she would be more explicit than that, even if she is aiming for brevity! It wouldn't fit the vibe (in my opinion). As you say, they're barely able to move. And not that aroace people never fuck, but (personally) the idea of that here does leave the unsavory impression that River would've gone with it at the last hour while knowing it's not his thing, with the “whether you know that or not — whether you feel that or not” line coming afterwards despite the fact that he certainly “knows” their future at this point, from front to back to front to back again. (Also “acting like a couple again” is so subjective since QPPs do a lot of things that are typically associated with couples? like the physical intimacy between River and Nine?) Not being aroace myself I will try to speak more generally to avoid speaking over people on a topic I'm not qualified to speak on — but I think, at least, it would be very disappointing if it meant that — I know that it means a lot to me (and I become very protective) when I see positively-represented aspects of my own identity that are rarely portrayed in a non-stereotyped light — and it would indicate at best a major lack of miscommunication between writers after Swipe Right, or worse: if the implication was to uncritically imply his orientation could be altered by the right partner…? Anyway: I still see it as queerplatonic personally, but thanks for pointing out that observation because I wouldn't have thought of that line! (Also, I can't speak for your twitter mutual, who I don't know, etc.)

Anyway, thank you for the ask! 💌

Love the SMALL CAPS and YOU ARE LEGENDARY for them.

[salarta]

Time for my first topical post on Tumblr involving Polaris and X-Men/Marvel in a long while! To get it started, I've had "this song"Wait For It" from Hamilton in mind since this morning, and I'll be getting to why under the cut.

I learned about Polaris in 2009. Not from a comic, or a cartoon, or a show, but from just randomly stumbling upon her with the Marvel wikia.

Imagine learning this awesome character exists that you never knew about, after literally decades alive, purely by chance. And seeing how little respect people at Marvel have for her, and how poorly she's been depicted for the most part as compared to her actual potential.

Many people aware of Lorna nowadays know of her thanks to the Wolverine and the X-Men cartoon, or thanks to Gifted, or appearing in video games, or winning the X-Men vote. But back when I learned of her, she had none of those things. She was just appearing in the WatXM cartoon, but it's been kind of a slow burn for most people to learn about and watch that.

My point is this: Lorna's gains in all these respects were different kinds of battles.

Fans needed to push for Lorna to appear in video games. Fans needed to draw attention to Lorna on Gifted. Fans needed to vote for Lorna for the X-Men vote and argue in her favor.

And all the while, fans needed to push back against poor treatment and poor attitudes toward her by people working on the comics.

A decade ago, Tom Brevoort tried to argue that Lorna "couldn't" be Magneto's daughter, and misused his power as editor on the Avengers books to exclude her from Magnus family matters on those books and replace her with other characters. This included having a House of M portrait redrawn in Children's Crusade to replace her from a rando, leaving Lorna out of Axis and having a corrupted Wanda claim Magneto "has no kids" after the forced retcon on the twins being his kids, and trying to replace Lorna as Wanda and Pietro's sister by introducing another color-coded character.

Jordan White kept misusing his power to try and force his nostalgia for Havolaris and for 90s X-Factor onto Lorna. Everywhere Lorna showed up, Havok was forced into her affairs one way or another. This went so far as to have a bubble in Prisoners of X depicting 90s Lorna and Havok kissing as one of her memories, but NO bubbles showing her experience on Genosha, whether as someone who supported it or someone who survived its genocide.

Yet, Polaris fandom is still here. We're still fully aware of her REAL potential, and still pushing damn hard to see it realized, in spite of people who work on the comics thinking she doesn't deserve good things. Whether it's Brevoort essentially saying she doesn't deserve to be Magneto's daughter and the twins' sister, or White saying she doesn't deserve to be a star or have meaningful stuff done for her while trying to dismiss her winning the X-Men vote as "oh she only won cause she was on Gifted."

And that's the connection to "Wait For It."

Getting good things for Lorna is an uphill climb. We're facing decades of poor treatment, and ignorant nostalgia for that poor treatment by editors who don't care about good work and potential, just whatever personally pleases them. People with big egos who think they don't have to try to be better and offer better.

Getting these good things very often requires being confrontational. Saying things people don't want said, and saying them in uncivil ways. And I'm not saying every occasion merits that approach, cause that would be absurd. You use different tools for different jobs.

But, in the end, you can't just play nice all the time either. Doing that gives the impression that Lorna really doesn't matter, because if she did, wouldn't she have fans willing to fight for her? Who want better than the crumbs they get every so often by assholes just to appease them?

Fact of matters is, as fans we take out of necessity, because certain assholes force us into a position where we must. Where that's the ONLY path open toward positive change. Where changing the game from their terms to ours is part of getting there.

And in spite of efforts to undermine fandom, we keep winning anyway.

But it takes time. Make no mistake that making good things happen for Lorna is not an overnight deal. We're not dealing with a blank slate of attitudes where just hyping up the character is enough. We're confronted "given wisdom" and entrenched attitudes that are very negative toward her.

We're challenging the perceived status quo. That's going to rile more than a few feathers. People like the comforts of status quo, especially as they get older and existential dread starts to creep in. The options in dealing with those people are either give up or challenge them. And if we're really fans, we'll challenge what they think is right to get them to open their minds to Lorna's real potential and what she really has to offer.

The end goal is something we work toward, but satisfaction of actually getting it is something we have to wait for along the way.

[enanan-writes]

same anon as last time))) hello again. for me, while i adore both, i prefer kaohika more. for me, it's a matter of hating people who feminize kao— it's a homo ship for fucks sake. and people act as if one character out of the two just has to be girly. fucking garish (and believe me when i say I've read every hikakao fic online. On non English websites, on AO3, adult fanfiction.org, and yes, every fic on fanfiction.net, and oh, it's fucking disgusting). hika can be cute too, if not more so. like the roles assigned to them in their act is just an act. hika is no more of a top than kao is— if anything, as said in the manga (by Hani-senpai) "

i like to think hika is the more dependant twin. i feel like he just can't live with the thought of being away from kao. and that scene in karuizawa where he acts as if it was nearly the end if the world when kao was only grazed lightly on the cheek. kao is hika's pillar.

but hikakao fics are just written by stereotypical authors nowadays, who reduce kao's character to nothing more than the seductive/uke/cute/coy baby brother (who, for some reason, has all the worst, inhumane things happening to him, like r/pe, pr/stitution, being abused by hika, which is fucking bullshit, being lusted over by creeps, shitty love triangles, crossdressing crap, bc let's be real, if kao ever crossdresss, hika would too) and said authors write some filthy, mindless smut and that's it. some even misusing gender dysphoria or transgender identities, just wanting excuse to treat kao all delicate and super duper uke (and this will lead to awfully written, ooc fics by authors who mischaracterize hikaru and kaoru and soon, the newer authors would follow in their footsteps and spread the disease.

long story short. i now hate top hikaru fanfics with a passion, and only read either top kaoru fics, or just non-smut where it doesn't feminize kao or write stereotypical shit based on their FAKE act (assigned roles). And you might think I'm deluded and completely out of my mind, but yes, this affects me greatly. I love Hikaru and Kaoru. they're my comfort characters, and i've been in the fandom for so long… and seeing the gradual descent to abomination.

thank you for listening to my ted talk, even if you didn't ask :')

YOU. ARE SO. REAL FOR THIS.

The fic im writing rn is switch hkk/khk :)

I have also read every single hitachiinx2 fic on the internet. you name it, ive read it. i 100% agree w u.

ugh like PLEAE LET THEM JUST BE IN LOVE. CAN WE HAVE A FLUFFY HITACHIINx2 FIC??? PLEASE???

its almost like half the writers out there only read and watched up to The Twins Fight (ep 5 in the anime, I dont remember the manga chapter).

I love top kao so so so so much <3 I also love top hika so so so much <3 so long as they treat the twins differently based on personality, not just their stage roles. kaoru is sarcastic, witty, but also level headed. he may get flustered somewhat easily, but he plays it up for his role. hikaru is more quiet, and only fully comfortable with himself when he's just with his brother. he is more emotional as well, but bottles it up.

these things are so easy to see if you just pay attention.

like literally. they are so damn different. the fic im writing rn literally has their povs showing that they enjoy their act, but also find the roles constraining, especially when they just want to be themselves.

also, ofc! im happy to listen to ur opinions (which r very based)

[queen0fm0nsterz]

-storms in here- If the Lady and the Thin Man were to have a battle of wits, who do you think would win and how?

ANON I LOVE YOU /p I LOVE THINKING OF THEM... these creatures

Oh, definitely the Lady. When it comes to actual intelligence, there is no real way of telling, but outsmarting the Thin Man wouldn't be hard in the slightest for someone like her.

This is simply due to a difference in understanding of the world. Thin Man has been locked up for his entire life and while it doesn't necessarily translate to him being stupid, the fact that he has nearly no way of accessing the outside world before he's free doesn't help. Plus, we have to consider the fact that he is quite unstable. He doesn't really have the emotional maturity and the wits to put together a well constructed plan. Tbh I don't think this man even thinks before he acts... it's definitely one habit he never grew out of.

Honestly, this is why I believe the Pale City is actively decaying to begin with. In the state he is in, he's not cut out to be a leader; he'd never be able to handle a place like the Maw, for example.

Furthermore, his ability to use his own stupidly powerful abilities is... lacking, to say the least. Mono is more powerful than him and while that can be blamed on the fact Thin Man is literally on the verge of expiring, I think his misuse of his powers should not be overlooked. I am inclined to believe he never got the chance to explore them, which is why he uses them sporadically and in very... unique ways. Like seriously why is he teleporting/walking super fucking fast to traverse incredibly small distances this man could TEAR THE ENTIRE CITY APART IF HE WANTED TO HE COULD HAVE TORN MONO TO SHREDS IN 3 SECONDS

The Lady on the other hand has a very good grasp on the world and its people. Ambitious woman that she is, she knows many things, see as she has studied for so long. The marketing of the Maw is most likely thanks to her and, considering how successful it is in the outside world, she must have done a damn good job. Plus, it was mentioned that she has learned many terrible things during her time there; with all the years she spent managing it she has seen it all at this point. Though she too is as unstable as her counterpart, she does a much better job at hiding it - or keeping it under control. She has learned to get a grip on herself. Though there are times where the mask slips, she is mostly really good at keeping on the impression that she is calm and collected.

She has the advantage of having way more life experience. The Lady's powers are definitely nothing when compared to the reality bending Thin Man has going on, but they are not to be ignored nor dismissed. She can lurk in the shadows and can potentially be a dangerously quiet enemy.

If this was a battle based on powers alone, there is no doubt that the Lady would lose. But since it's a battle of wits, I believe the Lady would win by manipulating the Thin Man into not fighting at all.

Her gaslight gatekeep girlboss era finally becomes real my boy will not even know what hit him

This is how I think it would go:

"Did you come to my door in search of conflict?"

"(Incomprehensible static)"

"I don't think you want to fight. You wouldn't be able to. This conflict you made up, it's all in your head."

"(INCREASINGLY AGITATED STATIC)"

[darklcy]

𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬

attack on titan masterlist | spotify | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 of 6

pairing: yelena x gn! reader

genre: college AU, slight toxic relationship, unrequited, angst to eventual fluff

summary: yelena comes to a realization, and breaks upon finally seeing reader again

warnings: just some swearing, angst, and FINALLY fluff :)

word count: 12.7k

A/N: sorry for the delay!! been a bit busy to post :0 BUT WE HAVE REACHED THE LAST PART OF RAINY THURSDAYS!! thank you all so much for readingg this is the moment you’ve been waiting for >:)

A week and a half bristled by without a single word spoken.

Your days consisted of breakfast, going to class, coming home, dinner, sleep. On repeat, playing over and over like a music playlist.

The anticipation of facing the elephant in the room built up and up with each passing day. When exactly should the cycle break? You had trouble deciding.

The image of talking to Yelena threw your stomach into an abyss of nausea, and your brain pounded against the skull barrier. And yet at the same time, the urge to lock yourself in a dark closet and cry until you couldn't breathe would also rise whenever her face popped inside your mind.

You missed her. A lot.

And it made you angry. You should be angry; angry at her for not noticing you sooner and for misusing your love and affection for her own desires. A selfish, ugly side of you yelled at her to love you back, to feel the same way, but you knew it was hopeless. You can't control your heart and who you love. If you could, you wouldn't be in this position in the first place.

On the other side of the wall, Yelena was struggling, too. Unbeknownst to you, she had cut things off with Historia.

It was relatively hard. Historia was a sweet, lovely girl, always smiling and looking out for those around her. Yelena grew disgusted at herself for not returning her full affections and for breaking her heart, but better sooner than later. Plus...Yelena couldn't stop thinking about you, and about everything you confessed to her that night. It hadn't left her brain for one second.

She missed you, too.

She was never one to dissect her feelings. She acted impulsively, never thinking twice about consequences or how serious her actions could be. She just knew it made her happy and feel good, so why ruin it?  That's how she'd always lived life...and never once did she realize how much she could hurt people. She hated how selfish she was. How absorbed into her own world and thoughts she was compared to everyone else. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism, to protect her from real life's damage and keep her safe. 

Ignore and forget, rather than confront and obey.

She sighed under her forearm draped over her closed eyelids.

"...I bet she's in the same position as me, having feelings for you and having some hope you feel the same way because you flirt with us too much. You kiss us too much. You call me 'bug' for fuck's sake.."

With a groan she slammed her arm back onto the mattress, glaring up at the ceiling. Your damn voice just wouldn't leave.

"I'm honestly surprised someone as smart as you didn't pick up on the fact that your actions have fucking consequences. Because you don't love me back. Right?"

"Ughh fucking stop."

Yelena growled as she gripped onto her hair, tugging on it harshly to stop any more replays of your voice. But it just coming, no matter how hard she tried.

"..How do you think I feel."

"You were the first person I slept with, Yelena. And now you're shocked I have feelings for you?"

For fucks sake..!

A dry weep escaped her lips, hands falling down to cover her face. 

Just stop. Please just stop.

Tears dripping from behind her eyelids painted riverbeds beneath her fingers, slowly dragging down to her chin and neck.

She missed you. Fuck, she missed you so much.

--

A ringtone disturbed you out of your homework doing. Halting your writing, you let go of your pencil and picked up the device, unplugging it from the charger next to your desk.

Mikasa <3

A soft grin blossomed on your lips as you tapped the 'answer' button.

"Hi, Mikasa!"

"Hi, [First]. What are you doing later?"

Glancing down at your unfinished homework, you answered. "Nothing. Why?"

Mikasa smiled on the other side of the call. "Do you want to get dinner with me?"

Your grin grew wider. "Yeah, for sure! What time?"

"I was thinking in about an hour?"

Your eyes darted back to the open notebook in front of you. Homework can wait a lil.

"Ok! That works for me."

You noticed you and Mikasa had began hanging out a bit more than you used to after the party at Historia's. Not that you minded, Mikasa was one of your best friends. Occasionally Armin and Eren would join in on one of your excursions, but most of the time it was just the two of you. 

Mikasa was one of the first friends you made on campus, and for that you were very grateful. She was wise, smart, and very loyal to you. You knew she would always be there for you, and she proved that multiple times throughout the months of knowing her.

..She also started harboring feelings for you during the beginning stages of your friendship. Surrounded by Eren and Armin all her life, she didn't have many female friends. So when she met you, she was swarmed with confusion. She couldn't decipher if it was strictly romantic or platonic feelings that were surfacing, but when one day, when you turned over to her and smiled charmingly, the sun shining through the clouds and dancing on your eyes and skin, she knew she was done for.

She fell fast.

She had to admit, hearing you confess you loved Yelena was a heartbreaker. It crushed her insides into a jumbled, tangled mess, but she didn't allow herself to show it in front of you, not when you were already so vulnerable and shattered.

But when you so comfortably rested against her, trusting her, she decided...it would be okay to not unveil her feelings to you. She didn't want to lose this valuable friendship the two of you shared, and she definitely cared more for it than her silly crush. 

That's what she came to conclude.

Staring at herself in the mirror, getting ready to head out and meet up with you, she bittersweetly smiled at her reflection, suppressing the hopeful image of you standing next to her.

--

Dinner had been a nice time. A distraction you desperately needed from your demanding assignments and from the glooming presence of Yelena. Thanking Mikasa for the fun night, you turned the keys to your dorm room and opened the door. 

Having gotten used to the silence, to the lack of a 'welcome home' hug, to the lack of Yelena, you were shocked when you instantly were met with the blonde standing a mere foot away from the entrance, staring at you with a broken expression. Her hair had been tattered and tangled, her clothes were wrinkled, and her face appeared dry, red, and swollen. You froze, your keys dangling in your grip, not having fully entered through the door to process she was right there in front of you.

After a few seconds of silence, you tiptoed inside and shut the door, leaning your back against it and holding your arms behind your hips. She let out a deep, deep, breath, shoulders sagging as the air left her lungs. You couldn't control the creasing of your eyebrows, emotions stalking through your facade. Just the sight of her made your eyes threaten to tear up. All traces of anger residing in you vanished like dust, as if it were never there to begin with. It had only been two weeks almost, yet it felt like an eternity without her.

She spoke first, chapped lips quivering. "...I miss you."

God dammit. You thought bitterly, unable to fight back the tears anymore as they welled up over your irises.

Your body trembled under the weight of your longing feelings, the want to hug, to talk, and to kiss her again. "..I..I miss you, too." You managed to voice out, shoulders bubbling with threatening sobs.

She didn't wait to hear another word out of you before she lunged forward and scooped you up in her arms, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist and the other cradling the back of your head. You didn't hesitate to hug her back, arms going under hers. She felt so warm against you. It didn't dawn upon you just how cold and lonely you were without her. You missed her familiarity and warmth. Having her hold you like this made you feel safe, comforted. Loved.

The taller blonde swayed you a bit, a silent memoir to you that she wasn't letting go anytime soon. You were more than okay with that. If you could, you would stay in her embrace forever, always feeling her warmth. She moved her head to rest her chin atop you, opening her eyes to stare at the door.

"I want you to listen to me...okay?"

You softly nodded your head that laid against her collarbone, arms tightening around her. Her breath wavered, but she fought through her anxieties and began to speak.

"I...I've never been someone who has easily talked about their thoughts and feelings. I've always lived my life ignoring them, refusing to talk about what was truly going on. I guess I thought if I never spoke about them, they would go away. Stupid, really."

You turned your face to lay your cheek against her, still quiet and listening. She continued.

"Feelings are scary. Having feelings for someone, is scary. Whenever I thought I liked someone, I'd play it off as a joke. I wouldn't let myself dwell on them. I would think, 'I don't really like them. We're just having fun.' I realize now...that that mindset is fucking dumb."

The two of you weakly chuckled, you softly nodding in agreement. She inhaled again, recuperating her thoughts and how she wanted to convey them.

"..I ended things with Historia."

Your eyes popped open, body stilling. "What..?"

Yelena's hand resting on your head fell to your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. "You were right. I realized the same thing that happened to you, was happening to her, and I couldn't...I can't hurt anyone again. Not the way I hurt you."

Your chest clenched, more and more tears squeezing themselves onto your cheeks. You let out a few sniffles, hushed whimpers breaking through your lips. Yelena closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again, a couple droplets releasing between her blinks.  

"..I've never felt more stupid in my life. I didn't realize how much damage I caused until that night...I should've paid attention to you. I should've known better. I should've..."

Grabbing hold of your shoulders she pushed you away from her body, staring into your eyes. You blinked up at her, wet eyelashes glistening. She tenderly caressed the side of your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone.

"[First]...I am so, so sorry. For everything.

For not treating you right. For not realizing your feelings sooner. For everything."

Her other hand swept up to take the other side of your face, her fingers collecting your tears. Your own hands collapsed around her wrists, a somber smile residing on your face. She'd never touched you as gently as she was now. Her skin felt comfortable against yours. If you could freeze time, you would do it just to stay here with her touching you like this.

How had you been so angry with her just days ago..? You wanted to scream, cry, and yell, "I forgive you," over and over until your vocal cords shrieked. You loved her. Your love for her never showed itself more than it did now. You wanted her to see it. To feel it. You wanted her to know just how much love you held for her.

Staring down at you, feeling the soft skin of your face under her hands, your bright, wide eyes...She couldn't hold back anymore.

To have you here with her in this tender setting, after having not seen each other for two weeks...She longed to be with you, always. Thinking back to you and Mikasa at the party, thinking of your presence, your smile, your touch...

The realization that she had fallen for you hit her harder than any bullet could ever be shot. Her eyes slightly widened, her chest growing hot and stomach twisting.

She knew what had to be done. Even if she was scared, to hell with it. You were worth it. You were worth getting through her unforgiving anxiety of speaking her true feelings. She'd do anything for you. She never wanted to lose you again.

And so, with another sigh, she pushed through her nerves, and parted her lips.

"[First].."

Her thumb swiped a tear away from your eyelashes.

"I think I love you."

..

..

Your pulse quickened and stopped simultaneously. The blood flowing through your veins quit their movement for a millisecond, shocking you bitterly. Did....Did you hear her correctly..?

You rose your chin a little, expression dropping. "..W-What...?"

Yelena was usually not the type to become flustered or red in the face, but she was red. Her cheeks appeared as vibrant as an apple, her eyes averting yours timidly. Hell, she resembled a middle schooler having a tiny crush on a classmate. You blinked again.

"Yelena...d-did you just.."

Finally meeting your confused stare, she wasted no time shutting up your curiosity by ducking her lips down to meet yours, breath escaping your lungs and knees threatening to buckle under themselves. Her hands cupped your face a bit more, pulling you up to meet her, while you held onto her wrists as if you could fall without her.

The kiss she gave you wasn't empty like the other times. This one held meaning, emotion. 

You could feel the difference in the way her lips enveloped yours so softly. It left you breathless and warm, almost eager, wanting to feel more and more of her love. She swallowed your tears and sobs, taking your feelings and mixing them with hers. She loved you, and this action proved it.

Breaking apart, she leaned her forehead against yours, hands refusing to leave your face. Opening your eyes, you glanced up at her and smiled, a giggle threatening to burst out your chest.

"...Do you mean it...?"

Yelena returned your smile, cheeks still blaring red. "With all my heart."

Another surge of emotions rose up within you, manifesting more tears on your eyelashes. It was unreal. It was too much. The pressure your heart pumped from inside your chest had you convinced it would explode. The idea of her simply returning your affections had been long erased from your head. To stand here with her, in the entranceway of your dorm, kissing you so like this...

"I love you."

You breathed out, voice trembling. Yelena embraced you again, meeting your lips once more before burying her face into your neck.

"I love you."

Your smile was never ending. Every nerve in your body had been released and encased in warmth. Her warmth. As she hugged you tighter, she made a promise to herself to never let you go. Damn it, she would never dream of it.

After a few more quiet seconds, you lightly chuckled. "..Can we hangout now..?"

Yelena couldn't hold back her laughter, pausing to give you a kiss on the head.

"Of course, bug."

A/N: AHH again thank you so much for reading! this story is also up on AO3 which is linked on the attack on titan masterlist if you wanna check that out as well <3 

[spacedikut]

the blessing of a blizzard ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: a blizzard leaves the team holed up in the bau office. spencer can’t stop thinking about your elusive boyfriend, mike, who might not be your boyfriend after all. 4.3k

a/n: festive fic! kind of! im too scared to do a final check so if there’s errors or i misuse pronouns just lemme know ily happy holidays ! thank you to the incredible @homoose for helping with dialogue :D

Mike. His name is Mike, and Spencer hates him.

Full name Michael, Spencer presumes, which comes from Hebrew meaning “who is like God?” A rhetorical question, implying there is no person like God, Michael was one of the archangels in Hebrew tradition and the only one identified as an archangel in the Bible.

What Michael should mean, however, is the guy that stole your heart and left Spencer thinking things very unlike him – that Mike, a man Spencer has never met and that clearly makes you very happy, has a really stupid name, for example.

There are three things Spencer knows about him:

1. Ever since you started deciding on his wardrobe, ladies love him. It makes you a little jealous, apparently.

2. You love baking him homemade treats whenever you can. Like a movie playing in his head, Spencer can perfectly remember you excitedly chatting with Garcia and Emily, animatedly explaining how excited Mike gets when he sees you’ve made something just for him.

3. Mike can be a bit of a dick, actually. There have been several mornings you’ve come in with a long face, leaning back in your desk chair far enough to view the world upside down and whining about how grumpy Mike was that morning, how you had to tip-toe around your apartment lest he get mad.

You’d called him your soulmate, added that he’s a light in your life you didn’t know you needed until you had him. You’re a person who chooses their words carefully, so when you’re walking around putting Mike and soulmate in the same sentence, you mean business.

That business is ripping Spencer’s heart out of his chest, apparently. Because you’re busy showing JJ pictures of him on your phone right now, blissfully unaware of the subconscious glare Spencer is lasering into your phone as he leans against the jet counter.

Spencer’s never had the honour of seeing Mike (a genuine word you used – honour) and you know what? Spencer doesn’t want to know what Mike looks like. Spencer doesn’t care. Mike’s probably ugly, anyway, and Spencer’s confidence within himself grows day by day and if there’s one thing he’s learnt recently it’s that comparison is the thief of joy and-

“Oh!” JJ exclaims, “He’s gorgeous!”

Fuck Mike. Really, fuck him.

+++

The floor is slippery beneath everyone’s feet, the surrounding area slowly losing its mixture of colours to blend into one coat of white.

It’s snowing.

Garcia greets the team, a steaming cup of tea in her bejewelled hands, and everyone gets to work right away. There’s whispers of the snow getting heavier and sticking and covering more and more ground with more and more depth; people are rushing against the proverbial clock to get done and get home before they’re all stuck.

But that won’t happen, right? If people were genuinely concerned about getting snowed in, surely everyone would’ve been sent home early as a precaution. Right? Right?

Wrong.

Rossi’s the one to notice it, calling out, “Check it out. Snow’s pretty bad.”

He says it like it’s nothing, like they’ll race to the windows then deflate with disappointment because you couldn’t even create a single snowball with that light coat, but holy hell people are walking around with snow up to their ankles and it’s still coming down thick. And then the lights are flickering and JJ is making frantic calls home to Will and Hotch is exiting his office, phone pressed to his ear, calling everyone to attention:

“There’s a blizzard incoming. It’s too dangerous for anyone to be on the roads, so we’re being told to sit tight. You should all try to call home, just in case; we don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

Some people still brave it, still try to head on home, and whether they make it or not is up to the Gods. The team glance around, varying expressions – Emily and Derek look pissed, JJ is worried, and you and Rossi are straight-faced. Penelope is bouncing in excitement.

“It’s like a sleepover!”

All Spencer can think about is how Mike will have to suffer another day without you. He bites back a smile.

+++

Spencer’s straining his neck, butt barely on his desk chair, in attempt to see around all the bustling people that stand between you and him. Through the glass BAU doors, on the phone, your shoulders are slumped and you kick your boot against the floor a few times to channel your multitude of emotions into something. He hopes Mike isn’t giving you a hard time for something that isn’t within your control.

Emily looks up from her monitor, where she’s doing Christmas shopping even though it’s Christmas Eve, and looks thoroughly amused by Spencer’s internal battle of wanting to watch you but not wanting it to be obvious.

“You good, Reid?”

Spencer flinches like Emily pinched him. “Yeah, good. Fine. Are you good?”

Emily makes a show of slowly turning to look at you, still on the phone, then slowly turning back to Spencer’s wide-eyed gaze. She smirks. “You think they’re talking to Mike?”

Yes, Spencer does think that, but he’d made a point to not fully acknowledge it. And there’s something about Emily’s smugness that tells Spencer she’s teasing him – she knows something he doesn’t and it makes his eyes narrow. “Probably. Why?”

Whatever the response is, Emily’s barely opened her mouth before she’s interrupted by Penelope Garcia gracefully clapping her hands, getting the attention of every BAU member. The team quiets and all eyes are on Penelope. Except Spencer, who watches with concern as you sneak back to your desk, a furrow to your brow and downward dips either side of your mouth.

“I know these are less-than-great circumstances, and we’re stuck in work of all places, but that shouldn’t mean we can’t have a little fun! So…”

She wildly gestures for Hotch to step forward, a cheesy grin on her face and a gleam in Hotch’s eye that tells everyone he’s also smiling but internally, and she takes the three large boxes he was carrying like the good sidekick he is.

“We’re building gingerbread houses!”

There’s exclamations of surprise and joy; Emily lights up at the idea of doing anything other than work or sitting at her desk, and JJ takes a box to look it over before asking, “Where did you get these?”

Hotch answers. “They were supposed to be for the kids,” He shrugs, holding back a smile, “However, I guess we can use them now.”

“Yes,” Penelope nods, “Yes, we can use them now. Get your game faces on, because this is a competition. Hotch and Rossi are the judges, because they’re grumpy old men, and the rest of us will be in teams of two fighting to build the best gingerbread house the BAU has ever seen.”

Derek speaks up for the first time, just to insult Spencer. “I refuse to be on a team with Reid. He has no creative skills.”

Members of the team laugh and Spencer reacts indignantly. He wants to reply, but you’re already speaking.

“Hey! I’ll take him! Spencer’s great.”

Many heads snap to you when you speak, Spencer’s surely got whiplash, but you’re looking at him and smiling at him and him alone. He’s breathless at the sight, how you chose him and have literal stars in your eyes, yet all he can think is how undeserving he is of such a beauty. How undeserving anyone is, mostly Mike, to exist in the same reality as someone who puts the definition of beautiful to shame.

Spencer’s about to make the best damn gingerbread house the world has ever seen.

+++

So, building a gingerbread house? A little more difficult than originally thought.

Maybe it’s the sticky icing, or the temptation to simply eat all the sweet decorative candy rather than use it for its intended purpose, or…

Maybe it’s the pretty teammate Spencer has that keeps brushing against him, keeps brushing against his hands, and like a virus to a computer you completely wipe Spencer of all thoughts other than: Y/N.

Spencer caught you watching him while he was rolling up his shirt sleeves, caught you staring at his hands and trailing your eyes up his forearms, following the sleeves as they moved inch by inch up to his elbows.

Then, when Spencer was holding two pieces of gingerbread together, you were too lost in thought to put the icing between the cracks and cement them together. Your eyes were trained on the fingers pressing the pieces together. Spencer had to call your name three times to wake you up.

Then, something weird happened (if the previous instances weren’t weird enough). You two had been in your own bubble of hushed tones and accidental touching, surrounded by bickering and collapsing houses and at one point Emily offered Rossi twenty bucks if he just votes for her and JJ without them making a house, and suddenly it’s silent. All he can hear is his heartbeat, his blood pumping in his ears, and all he can feel is the warmth of your breath on his ear because you’re right there, over his shoulder, joining him in hunching over your creation to decorate it with all kinds of shapes and colours.

The close proximity is too much. It’s too much.

You lean even closer, shoulder and arm pressed directly against Spencer’s, and lift another hand to place a miniature candy cane next to the gingerbread door. The action causes your hand to brush Spencer’s, and for the first time ever he’s not jolting away like he’s been electrocuted, no, his hand stays there, hovering, waiting and hoping for more.

Hoping for more of you.

And you seem to realise, too, that Spencer’s reaction is abnormal. He can’t decide if you’re testing the waters, or if it was a mere accident. But what are you testing the waters for? Why are you trying to touch him? Why do you want to touch him?

He takes a sharp intake of breath. From the corner of his eye, he sees you turn to look at him, and he almost doesn’t reciprocate. Almost.

You’re so close, face so close to his own. You take the softest breaths, in and out, sending the gentlest puffs of air onto Spencer’s lips.

He has no idea what the fuck is happening. He doesn’t want it to stop.

Your eyes, always shining and full of an emotion Spencer can’t decipher, dance around his face – his eyes, to his nose, stopping on each cheek, back and forth and up and down. Spencer’s captured by them, unable to tear himself away, which has become quite the habit since he’s known you.

Then you’re looking at his lips.

Spencer blinks, hoping to clear away the obvious hallucination he’s having, but no. Nothing changes. Your gaze remains, unwavered, making Spencer subconsciously open his mouth. The softest gasp leaves it when your pupils dilate.

This is the perfect moment to kiss, right? Right here, in front of the gingerbread house you made together, decorated together, and now begin the start of something else together. It makes sense, it’s almost poetic, and Spencer’s thought about you and him in a relationship enough times to consider this opportunity good and sweet enough to regale everyone with in the future.

Can you imagine it? “We had our first kiss in front of the gingerbread house we slaved over together. We won the competition, too.”

There’s a loud clang – Penelope found an actual gong from somewhere – and Rossi announces that the timer has gone off and it’s time for the judges to vote for the winner.

When you gently pick up yours and Spencer’s creation and take it to a cloth-covered table, where Rossi and Hotch ominously stand with their arms crossed, Spencer is frozen in place.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

There’s no way you wanted to kiss him. It isn’t possible. You’ve never looked at him like that before. It must’ve been a mistake.

But you were so close…

No. If Spencer made that move, it would’ve ruined everything – your friendship, the festive fun, the atmosphere of the entire evening. Everyone’s expected to be stuck here for at least another six hours, and making it tense and awkward was not something Spencer is willing to do.

But your eyes…

Spencer can’t think about that fact too much. That could mean anything – dilated pupils don’t necessarily mean you’re in love. You could’ve gotten a good whiff of the gingerbread and felt hungry, or a song you really liked started playing from the playlist Penelope created. Or, most likely, Spencer thinks, you were thinking about someone else.

Your boyfriend, for example.

You have a boyfriend. Mike.

Of course, you were probably thinking of Mike. Your boyfriend.

Spencer almost kissed someone in a relationship, and he’s pretty sure you almost kissed him too.

+++

Much to Derek’s chagrin, you and Spencer win the gingerbread house contest.

Penelope was baffled, frantically gesturing to the Jacuzzi she made with icing and- Derek made miniature weights? Somehow? It looked chaotic.

“Practicality, my dear,” Rossi told her. “Who, living in a gingerbread house, is worried about working out?”

Even though you and Spencer were the winners, Derek and Penelope and their pouting (and calls for a rematch) took the attention away from the obvious awkward tension between the winners. Spencer stayed at the desk you worked at while you took your house to the judges, stayed at the desk when you were crowned and stayed at the desk when you cheered.

You looked at him, wide grin and happy eyes, and all he could do was tightly smile back. Give a thumbs up.

He gave you a thumbs up. You nearly kissed less than ten minutes prior. And all he could do was give you a thumbs up.

The light in your eyes dimmed, but you seemed to understand.

Understand what, exactly? Spencer’s not so sure either. But something clicked in your head – you nodded to yourself as if confirming whatever you’ve concluded, and turned your back to him.

That was an hour ago. Now, the team has spread across everyone’s desks. Turns out, Hotch is a big fan of gingerbread - he’s consumed most of Derek and Penelope’s creation, icing and all, while Rossi has decided now is a good time to open one of the many bottles of whiskey he has in his office.

Spencer believes having that much alcohol in your work environment is breaking some kind of rule, but the snow isn’t letting up and it looks like a sleepover in the BAU office is likely. He deserves a little whiskey.

And where are you in all of this?

Spencer won’t lie and pretend he hasn’t had you in his line of sight the entire time, so he’ll recap what you’ve been doing: laughing at Derek’s jokes, plaiting Penelope’s hair, eating the candy Emily and JJ didn’t use on their house.

You’d left the room to call home and check up on things (check up on Mike, Spencer thinks bitterly) and now you stand in front of the large window by the BAU elevators, watching the snow fall.

Spencer has the perfect view of you through the glass doors. When the call ends and you stay there, he grabs a paper plate, grabs one of the walls from yours and his masterpiece and makes his way towards you.

He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how he’ll even act, but he wants to talk to you. Things feel weird after the almost-kiss, and Spencer never wants things to be weird with you. He can’t have things weird with you. You hadn’t talked to him once since the competition, and he has a feeling you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

So he does. If that’s what you need, he’ll do it.

(He’s making this more dramatic than it needs to be, really, but he feels everything so deeply when it comes to you)

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice perfectly matches the snowy atmosphere. It makes you feel warm inside, like you’ve just taken a sip of hot cocoa, and so often he’s left goosebumps on your skin just from speaking.

Seeing the outstretched paper plate in his hand, you take it gratefully. “Hi there. Thanks.” You nod to the gingerbread that you begin breaking up.

You hand him the first piece even though he brought it for you, and it’s silent while you both chew thoughtfully and watch the pure white outside. It doesn’t feel weird, necessarily, standing here, shoulder-to-shoulder with you, but you’re certainly more in your head than usual. You’re thinking a lot and, as much as it hurts him, Spencer knows you’re likely preoccupied by your boyfriend and not what transpired between you earlier.

It’s that thought, that disappointment settling into his chest, that opens his mouth unconsciously: “How’s Mike? Does he know you’re not making it home tonight?”

He regrets it immediately, worsened by the way you stop mid-chew, eyes dimming like Spencer’s taken a baseball bat and shattered the lights inside.

This is unchartered territory – talking about Mike with you – and you know it. Who, in their right mind, willingly asks the person they have feelings for how their relationship with someone that isn’t you is going? Does Spencer enjoy pain?

Although this is the first time Spencer’s mentioned Mike to your face (he’s mentioned Mike plenty to a laughing Derek), he’s been so close to presenting the topic many times. He wants to know so badly – wants to know how well Mike treats you, really treats you (he will profile you), if you see a long-term future with him and if not, on average how long does it take you to get over your exes? Just an estimate?

You swallow the gingerbread you’re eating. “He’s okay. My roommate has to take care of him, but at least he’s got someone.”

Huh?

Since when do you have a roommate?

And why is your roommate taking care of your boyfriend?

Oh. Guilt blooms in Spencer when it registers that he’s been thinking ill of a person that might be sick. No wonder you dote on him so much and seemed devastated to make that phone call home earlier - Mike needs you, you can’t be there for him, and you feel horrible for it.

Spencer feels horrible for having the subject of his anger be someone you so clearly cherish, so deeply love. He’s embarrassed that if he was asked to explain why he hates Mike so much, he’d have to tell them it’s because Mike has you, and you’re what Spencer wants. What about what you want?

“Take care of him?” Spencer asks. The concern is genuine, which is an emotion he never thought he’d have in regards to Mike. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh,” You shrug. “He needs someone watching over him at all times, that’s all.”

That’s all?

You continue. “Make sure he eats – and only eats what he’s supposed to. Give him his meds. Make sure he poops. Those kinda things.”

What?

“Your… roommate makes sure your boyfriend poops?”

Now, Spencer knows what you look like when you’re confused. Honestly, he has every facial expression you’ve graced him with tucked away in a proverbial box he spends too much time thinking about. He knows that when you’re trying not to laugh, you bite the inside of your left cheek. When you’re frustrated but need to present a professional front, you bite the inside of your right cheek. Happiness fills your entire face, like every inch is consumed by it, and you’ve trained yourself to transport anger to your hands, where they twist into tight fists and leave fingernail marks in your palms.

Confusion is one of his favourites (second only to joy – for obvious reasons. Have you seen your smile?) because it takes many forms. You’ve pursed your lips, narrowed your eyes, tapped your foot on the floor. When you do them all, Spencer considers it a jackpot. There’s something about the way you look when you’re presented with something you can’t quite figure out yet, when you’re perplexed, that just-

You make it hard for him to concentrate. He can’t be a genius when you’re around because you’re so pretty. You’re a vision and he can never rattle off information to you specifically because he will trip up and divert to talking about the beauty that is you and that would be embarrassing for many reasons.

But this type of confusion? The way you’re looking at him right now? He’s never seen this before. Your jaw has dropped, your brows are furrowed so deeply they might fall off, and you look… horrified.

“My… my boyfriend?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “Yeah, your boyfriend. Mike?” He looks around, waiting for cameramen to jump out and tell him he’s being pranked, because why don’t you know who your own boyfriend is?

You move slowly, placing the half-eaten plate on the windowsill before turning to face Spencer fully. You take a second to compose yourself.

“Mike is my cat.”

Mike is…

“And he’s having digestive issues, so he needs to be watched pretty much full-time.”

Silence. Tense, weird silence.

“…You thought Mike was my boyfriend?”

Spencer sputters, then, because of course he did! “Yes! The way you talk about him was… it was… it seemed…”

He flustered, oh so flustered, hands flailing and face enflamed and burning from the inside out. How had he not known?! How had… how had your wires gotten so convoluted, so mixed?

Does everyone know that Mike is a cat? Is Spencer the only one out of the loop? The look Emily gave him earlier, that knowing too-smug look, was that…

She was making fun of him. She knew he thought Mike was a person, not a pet, and was teasing him because of it.

All at once, the world seems lighter and dimmer – a contradiction that leaves Spencer’s chest heaving – because the past year feels like a lie. He’s spent so long seeing the way you come to life when talking about Mike, sitting opposite you on the jet as you awaken like a dying flower watered when home got closer and closer, and it was all for… a cat?

There’s a mist over Spencer’s eyes as he recalls every overheard declaration of love and coos of how handsome Mike is, and you’re laughing. Spencer’s having a crisis in front of your very eyes and you’re laughing. Hunched over, a single tear falling from your eye, clutching your stomach because it hurts from the ferocity of your giggles.

By the time you quieten, your hand is over your mouth to cover the big grin that grounds him, gives him something other than this revelation to focus on. Spencer’s still baffled, frazzled, but there’s the tiniest of smiles on his face because of how overjoyed you look. And he did that. Albeit his stupidity did it, but Spencer’s stupidity nonetheless.

You’re out of breath. “God I… I don’t even know what to say. You really thought my cat was my boyfriend?”

Spencer’s fighting a smile, lips wiggling. The way you’re looking at him now, all blinding smile and crinkled eyes, alleviates him of any anxiety he earlier had. Like you’ve wiped away his plate-full of worries, all the times it felt like he took an arrow to the heart, all the times he caught you smiling at your phone because you were looking at pictures of Mike, it’s all worth it. Because you’ve never looked like this while talking about Mike, and Mike is a cat. He isn’t a person, isn’t your boyfriend. Mike is a cat and Spencer has a chance.

Spencer has a chance.

“Does this… this means you’re single, right?”

A somewhat terrified look overtakes his face.

“Oh, shoot, you are single, right?”

You bite your lower lip and nod. “Yes, Spencer. I’m single.”

He lets out a breath. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad.” He repeats your nod, realises what he said could imply, and starts shaking his head. “Not-not good good. You’re incredible and need to be appreciated, but… good, because that means we could, you know…” He gestures vaguely. God, why can’t he get coherent words out? “If you wanted to, we could-“

“Are you trying to ask me out, Spencer?”

“Yes.”

Just to cause immense emotional distress, you raise an eyebrow, mischief clear on your face, and wait for him to continue.

“You want me to actually ask?” He winces.

“I’ve spent the last year convinced you didn’t like me, so, yes, I want you to actually ask.”

The new information sends ice down Spencer’s back because what? Since when? “You- what?“

“I’ve liked you for a while, Spencer,” You cross your arms over your body, slightly embarrassed. “But you always kept your distance so I did too, I guess.”

“I thought you were taken!” Spencer exclaims. “If I’d known I would’ve-we could’ve- I would-“

“You’d what, Reid?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone, but there’s no denying you’re incandescently happy.

He takes a deep breath and asks what he’s wanted to for far too long. “When this is all over, would you like to go on a date with me, Y/N?”

Relief flashes in your eyes, like you didn’t fully believe what was happening until he finally asked, and words have never sounded as pretty as when you say: “Yes. Yes I would.”

Like lovesick idiots, you stand in front of the window with the snowfall as a backdrop, grinning at each other. You can’t help it – you lean up, press a kiss to his cheek that immediately sets his skin ablaze, and fall back onto your feet with a smile sweeter than all the sugar you’d consumed today.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.”

Somehow, despite the nerves and the way his heart is trying to leap into your hands, he manages to tell you, “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

+++

(Three weeks later, Spencer meets the Mike. Turns out he’s a nice guy. Spencer takes the first opportunity he can to apologise for all the bad things he said about him behind his back. The purring tells Spencer he’s forgiven)

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @bitchyreids @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @gublertoon @averyhotchner @prettyboy-reid @shadyladyperfection

[ac3id]

Hawk’s eye| 18+

pairings: hawks [keigo tamaki] x female! reader

summary: hawks is in his rut, desperate for some relief. his annoying secretary won’t stop irritating him so he decides to take his pent up frustrations on her.       ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

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anonymous said:

hi!! so while the requests are still open, could you write some headcannons for Hawks x reader when he's in rut? maybe the reader is a bit clueless and doesn't even know he goes through stuff like that? dirty details are welcome 👀❤️

this was high-key inspired by @tainted-wine​‘s this fic. (i hope u like my take on it !! 💓) 

a/n: aaaa this took so much longer than i thought it would take 😭, also thanks @the-grimm-writer  for proof reading this! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) also this is porn w plot so if u just was to skip to da porn. skip to this ‘◌’ bhai 

ALSO THANKYOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS LMAO WTF FOR REAL 😭

tagging: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa​, @koiibito​, @reinawritesbnha​, @shorkbrian​

warnings: noncon, hate fucking, one slap, she bites his dick at some point, scumbag hawks.

word count:  5862

navigation

The sound of your phone buzzing on the side table with a loud, irritating noise jolts you awake. You roll around on the bed, your fingers reaching to turn the vibrating device off. Groaning, you sit up straight. The warm mattress under you threatens to lull you back to sleep but you shove the thought away instead choosing to stretch your arms over your head and yawn endlessly. You were tired, so goddamn tired. Rubbing your temples lazily you start thinking about the dreadful day you have ahead of yourself. You think about your boss: Hawks, the man who makes you hate your life and job. He has trapped you into a never-ending nightmare which starts the second you open your eyes till the moment you fall asleep and even then he still manages to haunt you in your dreams. 

Cleaning up after his messes, obeying his ever so pliantly. He has turned you into his little pet slave. He says that it’s your job as you are his assistant, his little helper there to make his job a little less hectic. You must listen to his needs and wants and to some degree, you do agree with him: it is your job, it’s what you signed up for after all but you can also sense him misusing his title when he is with you. He never listens to your suggestions which results in him calling you late after work hours to help with his problems knowing damn well you had already warned him beforehand. And, oh his flirty, suggestive comments which borderline sexual harassment. Hawks is a difficult man to work with and you often find yourself wondering how much calmer your life would be if you never worked for him but you do not have that luxury of leaving the job. It pays ridiculously well and you have bills to pay, your family to support. No, you cannot afford to lose this job. So you sit through his torment and hope for the best.

Seconds later after you have gathered your will to live you start scrolling through your phone, skimming through the morning news lazily. Your eyebrows furrow and eyes turn into angry slits as you glance upon a displeasing, astonishing article.

 ‘No. 2 Hero Hawks spotted partying with strippers–’

Your heart stops for a moment.

What the fuck was this? 

You hesitantly read through the article, your heartbeat increasing every second that your eyes focus on the led screen, reading the details of the damned article. Eyes widening as panic settles in your nerves, you realize the gravity of the situation you had found yourself under as Hawks’ manager. Hawks had been spotted partying with strippers in a nightclub with a bunch of celebrities. The crazy stalker who had managed to follow him succeeded in capturing exclusive pictures of Hawks dressed in an expensive suit, his hair styled to perfection dancing under the dim lights of the club with women in basically their underwear shamelessly grinding upon him. You honestly couldn’t have given a single fuck about what Hawks did in his free time but since he had managed to get a paparazzi to tail him and now that his career was at risk; it became your problem. Your first and foremost instinct was to call Hawks and ask him what the hell he was thinking. Not being careful enough, he had managed to taint his entire reputation. The people of Japan now probably viewed him as a reckless party animal rather than the No. 2 Hero! 

Before you could call him, your phone’s screen lights up illuminating a contact you dread. ‘Hero Commission’ it’s written in bold letters, your face drops. Your fingers shake, filled with anxiety as you accept the call. Inhaling and exhaling, you try to calm your nerves. If it is a call from the Commission, you know it’s bad. Bad. 

You pick up the phone and instantly regret it, “What were you doing?” an angry, masculine voice snarls through the screen. You open your mouth to answer but are not given a chance too. “How did you let him go to a strip club during patrol hours?” you bite your lip thinking of an acceptable excuse, “He had to go there for work! It’s a misunderstanding. He went down to the strip club undercover to meet up with a crook to get some intel– that’s what he told me. This is a misunderstanding, I–” your explanation was cut short as the person on the other end of the call deemed it enough. “Whatever it is, fix it and never let this happen again.” he sneers a warning before cutting the call. It wasn’t a complete lie, Hawks did tell you that he was investigating a case on his own and that he would be gaining information from shady people but you did not expect him to go to a strip club out of all places. The worst part: he never even told you in detail anything about this case neither did he notice the paparazzi tailing his back. You sigh in frustration, rubbing your forehead, you quickly ring up his number only for it be sent right to voicemail. You almost scream. Where the fuck was this bastard?

Managing Hawks was not a walk in the park. The hero commission had sent you down especially to be Hawks’ secretary. You had a reputation: you were known to be responsible, diligent, and punctual. You were one of their best, entrusted with the responsibility to manage Hawks and you did a good job but it was Hawks who just made the job so hard. 

Creating problems he could never solve by himself; on lucky days you would get a call from him at three in the morning, him begging you to come to help him. You want to say no, deny him any help. Let him suffer by himself but you cannot do that. If he screws up and you are not there to fix it. You lose your job, you can’t afford that. You give your 100%, you do but it’s Hawks. He has a problem with you, well, he has a problem with everyone in the commission but projects it mainly at you. He does not respect you. 

He chooses to ignore your decisions and suggestions, diminishing them with a cruel chuckle, “Look, I need you but just not now.” He would say with an apologetic smile, “just let me work at my own pace, I will call when I will need you. After all, I love seeing your cute face.” You would always have to force yourself from not slapping his smug face before he took off into the bright, blue sky.

The truth untold, it wasn’t his fault completely either. He was just so fast. It was hard for anyone to keep up with him and since he did his job right; bringing peace to the nation you could not deem him worthless. But it still was a bother at times like this when you were left completely in the dark while Hawks ruined his hard-earned reputation. 

You got into the building earlier that morning to wait for Hawks in his office, you needed to talk to him. This was not his first mishap. Not long ago, another article about him shamelessly flirting with a fan had been published. It had said the fan was visibly uncomfortable with him but Hawks didn’t seem to care, he kept presting. You had managed to cover it up as the two being close friends who were publicly joking around, there was no real harm done. It was a lie though, you had to pay the fan a large check to keep her mouth shut. She accepted the money and the story was lost and forgotten but you had no idea how you were going to cover this hell up.

The clock struck nine as the day began, people rushing into the building all tensed but there was no sign of Hawks. You tried calling him on his number but the call directed to voicemail yet again. You were growing impatient, did something happen to him? Sure Hawks fucked things over sometimes but he never disappeared like this. It got you genuinely worried. Something horrible could have happened to him. After all, he was on a case. 

You waited for another thirty minutes and there was yet no sign of him. His sidekicks came knocking on his office door only to be surprised to see you there instead of their boss. You told them to continue with their day and not worry about Hawks, he was just awfully late. Not a big deal, he will be here soon. Soon. 

Another hour passed by, no sign of Hawks and about now your phone was blowing up with angry calls from his sponsors and business partners, screaming at the top of their lungs frowning upon the scandal. Heck, even Endeavor called you after he couldn’t reach Hawks himself. The call made you nervous as anxiety crept in yet again. Hawks wasn’t answering to Endeavour something bad must have happened. Getting tired of the wait, you make up your mind to drop by his penthouse and to go see him for yourself. His silence was driving you crazy and worried at the same time, you just hoped he would be there well and safe. You could not imagine the ruckus that would create if something were to happen to him. 

You walked out of his office after waiting for an hour. Rushing down to the basement you got into your car and before driving away to his house. Just before leaving, you decided to test your luck by calling him. Hoping, praying he would answer this time and luckily he did .

“Hawks!” you cried, a wave of relief washing over you, “Where are you? What are you doing?” you began pestering him with questions, not letting him answer even once. Hawks, tired of waiting,  interrupted your monologue of questions with a chuckle. “Aw, you’re worried about me, baby?” his tone was low and mischievous, the sentence slurring almost into a moan at the last word. You rolled your eyes and clenched your fists in irritation, you weren’t new to his teasing. Hawks thought it was appropriate for him to casually flirt with his secretary. Send unasked comments about your figure, perverted implications about what he would do to a ‘cute little thing like you’ which made you very uncomfortable being around him at times. But it wasn’t that what made him get on your last nerves. It was the fact that he could even think about joking at a time like this which made you furious. 

You screamed into the phone, giving him a piece of your mind. Degrading him for not taking care of himself, complaining about how he had managed to put you in such a tight spot. 

“Once again I am asking, where the fuck are you. Hawks?” you ended your speech with spite in your words. Hawks sighed, “I am in the office,” he says your name with an edge in his voice, instantly shutting you down, “Where the hell are you?” The smugness in his tone remains and you can tell he is smirking on the other side of the screen as if he’s won. You hang up abruptly before walking out of your car and into the building, hurriedly making your way towards Hawk’s office. 

You slam the door open glaring upon hawks as he sits behind his table. Dirty boots resting pliantly on the shiny, polished wood. His wings out, stretched to their fullest, filling up the room standing on high alert. They have a deeper hue to them, they look darker– a darker red. How did that happen? You find yourself wondering. Is he on drugs? His face is tilted upwards, facing the ceiling. Eyes screwed shut. They open as he hears you enter and walk towards him, his wings falling back behind him calm and collected. 

“You’re late,” he says with a smirk, you bang your fist on the table beside where his feet rest, making him flinch and bring them down instinctively. His eyes widened in shock, he was not expecting you to be this furious. Sure, he knew he knew he had gotten you mad but he was not expecting you to be this angry. Without any hesitation, you start scolding him again. He watches you ramble in ominous glee. A poker face masking his expression, he watches you trot about how much trouble he is in. His job is to protect meek and weak citizens who cannot fight for themselves, what he was doing in a strip in the name of business is something you cannot grasp your head around. You repeat your lecture which you had already tortured him over the phone while the entire time Hawks drums his fingers underneath the table, waiting for you to get over with your dumb speech. His eyes trail on your lips, watching it move. Plump, pillow-like features tinted dark red ramble on about how much of an irresponsible person he was. Complaining about how much trouble he puts you through daily. Honestly, he doesn’t quite catch what you were saying. His mind busy imaging you shutting the fuck and letting him get through the day– or better yet how pathetic you would look underneath him while he shoves his dick down your throat. The thought makes his cock throb. His eyes change from an unbothered, bored look to something sinister as they start trailing all over your body. His eyebrows slightly furrow as he catches up on the few degrading terms you throw at him. 

You talked too much. Way too much, do you realize how much better you would look if you keep your pretty, little mouth shut? The entire time, it’s always: Hawks don’t do this, Hawks don’t do that. Don’t you ever get tired? He wonders whether your dumb little brain had any thoughts other than the ones which tell you to irritate him all the time. You should shut up, really stop talking. He might do something bad, he’s already stressed enough as it is being in his rut and having no way to relieve himself, he is going through a rough time here. The other night he escaped to a strip club in hopes of relieving some stress and it had worked but it had also brought along a mind splitting scandal.

The entire morning, Hawks was busy avoiding people. Whether it be his fans, reporters, or even someone he knew; he paid no mind to them trying to get to the office as soon as possible to deal with the mess he had created.

It wasn’t his fault entirely, he was in his rut and needed sexual relief which he was finding very hard to receive. With his work piling up and you breathing down his neck, he couldn’t even take represents as they slowed him down. He couldn’t risk falling asleep on duty. A stupid, little headline about what he does in his free time was much more favorable than a failed mission in which he would let countless innocent lives slip by his fingers. 

He watches you ramble, his eyes trailing over your body locking on your tits. He stares at them intensely, watching them bounce slowly every time you huff out of irritation and frustration. Your work shirt works him favors, the white almost translucent material shows off the slightest shadow of your black, lacy bra. It’s enough to get him going- imaging how your soft mounds would feel in his hands. How you would whimper under his touch as he tugs and pulls on your perky nipples, you probably wouldn’t sound as monstrous as you do right now. Your moans would be girlish, small whimpers would leave your lips as you would try your best to cover them up. You would try to hide your face under his assault but he wouldn’t let you, pinning you down instead and forcing himself on you while you cried for him to stop. Beg for his mercy. 

He can feel his jeans tighten. 

“So please, Hawks. Just be a little more responsible.” you finish, your voice turning into a plea. He hums and apologizes for his impulsive thinking, like always, he is not sorry. “Let's fix this mess, what do you say?” he asks with an apologetic grin, trying to be polite. You on the other hand don’t even spare him a glance, walking right out the door instead. It leaves him very offended. 

◌

“Ah! What a troublesome day it was,” Hawks chimes in walking into his office with you closely following behind, “It was all your fault.” you spit making hawks chuckle, “Whatever happens, happens for the good.” he says, a scoff leaves your lips, “What was good about that?” you ask annoyed. “I get to have you alone with me now~” Hawks winks at you making you roll your eyes dramatically. Both of you stand together in Hawks’ office after hours. The day is done, everyone in the agency building has taken their leave excluding the two of you. It had been a long day fixing up after Hawks. You were tired and all you wanted was a warm bath and some sleep. 

“Do you want to know why it happened?” Hawks asks out of the blue, “What happened?” you question, “Why was I at the strip club?” you sigh, “I don’t give two shits about your personal life, Hawks.” replying sternly. A look of disappointment arises on his face, “It’s actually more than that, really, I u-uh have this condition- it gets very hard to work during these times-”

 “What are you even talking about?” You interject confused and clueless. You turn to him, a glare evident on your face you stare at him sheepishly. What was he on about now?

“I am serious, I went into my rut, and that's why I went to the strip club-” “Into a what?” Hawks’ eyes widened, were you really that clueless? “A rut, [y/n],” he says like it is a matter of fact, something everybody is aware of. “A rut. You know like how some animals go into heat and they-” your face scrunches as he explains his rut to you, you visibly grow more and more repulsed. Hawks studies you face, his heart genuinely breaking at your expressions. “Why are you telling me this?” you screech, “jeez Hawks, I did not need to know any of that!” you continue. 

Hawks is hurt, he accepted a reaction which showed more concern. Maybe he went a bit too far imagining that you would offer him help but seeing you so disgusted by him shattered his heart and made him lose all his respect for you. You were a terrible human being, no different from those villains he put behind the bars every day. “I am telling you all of this because- this actually happens!  Many- fuck- millions of people like me actually suffer from this shit! You should be a little more emphatic.” he reasons. He accepts you to understand at least now but you gloriously manage to disappoint him yet again. A rude snarl leaves your lips followed by a scoff, “What are you really trying to tell me Hawks? That you don’t want to do your job and to justify your laziness; you are making lame excuses now?” you shove a finger to his chest, it pushes him off the edge. 

Something in his snaps, he looks down where your fingertip touches his chest. You are smaller than him, he’s at least a foot bigger than you. Where does your bratty, puny self get all this confidence from? His eyes darken as something sinister floats within him. He stares down at your finger, wanting to rip it off. He wants to see you cry. He wants to see you in pain and misery, suffering a great deal while nobody comes to help you. 

“Hawks, you know what? I am so done with your bullshit. I am leaving.” You turn away from him, heading to the door but before you could move a step. Hawks grabs you by writs, caging your delicate hand into a bone-crushing death grip, “What the fuck?” you question, “Hawks?” you continue. You wait for his response, turning to him. He is facing the floor, his hair scanning over his eyes making it impossible for you to read his expression, not that you could read what was going on with him normally but now; it’s even harder. “Are you going to let go?” you ask again only to be met by him squeezing your wrists even tighter. You bring your other hand over him to pry yourself free from his clutches but he doesn’t want to let go. 

“Hawks wha-” you don’t get to complete your statement as Hawks pushes you down on the floor making you fall on your butt. You let out a loud hiss. You frown, yelling out “What is wrong with you!?” You try to stand back up but his hands settle on your shoulder pushing you back down. You try fighting but it’s to no use. Did you forget he is the no. 2 Pro- Hero? He is much stronger than you, he brings down villains twice his size daily. What makes you think your weak kicks and punches will be enough to beat him? 

You keep struggling under him, screaming how you were going to report him and ruin his career, how he is going to be sorry for messing with you.

 “Shut. Up.” he finally speaks, he brings his gloved hand to your perfectly styled hair. Pulling tightly on your roots he stretches your face upwards, making it easier for him to look down on you while you cry in agony, “Stop crying.'' His voice is deep and raspy, much different from how he usually talks. You look up at him, fear swimming in your eyes as tears prick at the corners of your sockets, lips trembling. If you already weren’t terrified enough, your horror becomes tenth fold when you see his boner raging in his pants, “Come, on. Hawks..” your voice is small and weak, it's a broken cry. You know what he is going to make you do. He was going to violate you, break you beyond repair. 

This was so wrong. As much you hated Hawks, you never would have thought he would do something like this. Hawks was a hero. He is meant to fight for justice, punish evil. Why is he doing this? “Hawks no. Please. Was it something I said? I take it back I didn’t mean it-” 

“You know, y/n, you are not so different from those villains yourself,” if looks could kill, you would be dead. The pure, anger, and hatred he looks at you with bothers you. It makes you hate yourself, there is something sinister in his eyes which makes you sure about the fact that he is not afraid of hurting you. He has given up on you, after all, his polite gestures, generosity you always ignored- he’s fed up with your sheer ignorance and your ego. He hates you. He does and heck if he wasn’t in his rut; he would never bring his dick anywhere near you. He does not respect you as a human and in no way does he have any romantical attachment to you. All he ever saw was a walking alarm clock, bugging him every second, and now all he is going to see you as is his cocksleeve whom he can stuff his fat cock into whenever and however he seems fine. To him you are just a walking hole he can ruin whenever he wants to, you have managed to get on his bad side and he is going to show you his bad side.

He undoes his belt, his pants falling to his thighs displaying his expensive boxers and his growing hardness. His cock is throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His free hand pulls his boxers down and his cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. It stands long and hard, the tip blushed red and angry, tiniest bit of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit. He pumps his cock in his hand before forcing it against your mouth, pressing it to your lips smearing his pre all over your lips. You whimper in protest, moving your head the littlest you can under his tight grip. “Bitch open up. You had this coming for a long time,” his dick slaps your cheek while his fingers try to pry open your mouth. Pushing his gloved digits forcefully into your mouth, the rough fabric feels disgusting on your tongue. His fingers capture the lower part of your jaw, tearing your mouth apart with deranged strength. A loud cry escapes from you as he stuffs your empty mouth full of his cock, “Yeah, that’s more like it. Fuck.” he bottoms out into your throat, his shaft hitting the back of your throat making you gag, “get on with it. A slut like you would have the experience, right?” he taunts you. You do as he says, puckering your lips firmly around his length, your hands resting on his exposed thighs while you stroke him with your tongue. You feel his chiseled thigh muscles flex under your fingers as he melts in pleasure, tiny moans leaving his lips shamelessly. 

As Hawks drowns in overwhelming pleasure, a criminal idea crosses your mind. Your eyes trail up to his face. His eyes are screwed close, he bites his lower lip softly. Carefully and slowly, you graze your teeth over his cock. Clamping down on it lightly, you hold your position. Your heart beats faster when Hawks stiffens and in a quick flash, he pushes you off his cock throwing you into the ground before backing up, squealing in pain.

 “YOU LITTLE BITCH!” he screams, you sprint to the door. Trembling fingers try to unlock the doorknob while Hawks cries in agony behind you. You can feel him loom behind you, ready to come for your neck. A part of you tells you that you will not make it but the adrenaline rushing in your veins calls to be hopeful. Just open the door and just run. 

Your cold, quivering fingers almost unlock the heavy wooden door but before you can push it open. Hawks appears right behind you, pushing his body onto your back. You feel his cock poking at your ass, his hand grabs your head pulling you, prying you off the door. You scream and cry trying to break free, grabbing his hand clawing on it to let you free. Hawks chooses to show no mercy as he drags you by your hair to his desk, your scalp hurts from his grip. You can feel tiny strands breakaway. He turns you around and slams your back to his wooden desk, you whimper at the contact. He stands in front of you, pressing his knee between your thighs. His hand reaches out to pull at your collar, forcing you to look at him. 

He is livid, eyebrows furrowed with a death glare his jaw clenched, and his eyes darker than you have ever seen before. He looks at you with murderous intent, you think he might as well kill you with his wings flared open. The feathers turning into knives, you beg for your life. 

Hawks observes your face. Broken, scared for your life your eyes are glassy, ridden in fear your makeup smeared all over your face. He thinks it's beautiful, he has finally got you begging for mercy, finally thinking of him as the man he is. He appreciates your submission but it does not erase the fact that you just bite oh his dick. You beg for mercy, your voice is small and broken. It comes barely above a whisper, “I am so sorry hawks, please don’t do this.” He doesn’t listen, staring at you head-on with his jaw clenched. He brings his free hand to the air, keeping it steady for a second before bringing it down with a horrendous force. You feel it before it happens; white, hot flashing pain erupts through your cheek stinging you hard. You cry out in agony as your face drops to the other side. The strike was powerful, it left you sore, you can still feel it sting your face. It leaves you swollen, you try to bring your hand up to your face lightly to carcasses you paining cheek but Hawks pushes your face on the wooden desk before you could, trapping your arms behind your back holding it with one hand. “You don’t realize your position, do you? You know what? I was going- planning to be gentle with you. I thought I would at least make you cum but now,” he pulls a feather out his wings preceding to tear open your pencil skirt with the sharp end. The ripped fabric falls to the ground leaving you in your panties and the pantyhose you always wear under your skirts, “There we go. I hope you are a pain slut, otherwise you would really not enjoy this.” he says with a small chuckle before ripping you out of your bottoms, leaving you in your panties completely vulnerable to him. He abandons his gloves, rubbing his fingers on your clothed cunt roughly trying to gather slickness from your dry hole. Pleasure shoots down your body as his digits find your clit, rubbing tight circles on the little pearl, “Does this feel good? You are getting wet.” a smirk scars his face, “Who gets off to being raped?” he says sharply. Your face scrunches up in disgust and embarrassment. A heavy lump forms in your throat and the waterworks that you had been holding off burst open. Big, fat tears roll down your cheeks as you cry for mercy. You didn't know why this was happening to you, for your entire life you had been a nice person: always helpful, sensitive, and kind. At least, that was what you thought yourself to be. Never in a million years could you- or anyone, in fact, could have ever thought that you would be crying pathetically while your boss: a person known to all as a Hero, the truest, most honest person to exist ever would be the one defiling you, tearing you down to nothing just for his pleasure. 

“Shut up, you like this.” He snarls at you, so sick of your loud wails he even shoves two fingers inside your mouth plunging them to the back of her throat, “Don’t you dare bite now, slut.” he warns. His fingers stop prodding at your clit when he notices the wet spot forming on your panties, he wastes no time shimming them down to your ankles, whistling when he sees your glistening pussy. You only wail louder pleading him not proceed any further. Hawks turns a blind eye to all your begging, “I should just shove it in, right?” he asks petting his finger over your hole, “but that won’t be fun,” he snickers. You feel his move away from your cunt and move higher. Panic settles, he couldn't be serious, “Hawks. Please no. Please don’t. I don-” finger rims along your asshole, inching to dip in, “What? Don’t want me to fuck your ass?” he spanks your ass hard making you flinch, “Please I’ve never-” you cry out hoping he would understand, “No one’s ever fucked you in the ass before?” you whine at the lewd words which shamelessly fall from his lips, “Guess there’s a first for everything.” he says with a scoff. 

His digits bury into your hole, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The stretch burns, filling a fresh set of tears rolling down your eyes, smudging your mascara and eyeliner You looked like a whore. He keeps hammering his fingers inside you without mercy, a loud whine leaves your lips as you feel a tingle of pleasure from him hitting the right spot. “Do you like that? Too bad, this isn’t for you.” he moves his fingers from you before lining his fat cock to your almost too tiny hole, “How will this fit?” he laughs to himself, pressing his engorged tip in slowly, “Will be a tight fit,” he continues to shove his cock into your hole, his face turns off one to ecstasy as your walls take him inch by inch. You scream in pain, his cock was much bigger than his fingers. It was stretching you out, numbing your mind and soul, you did not know how much more you could take. Salty tears fell from your eyes as Hawks bottomed himself in you, he waited for a moment before starting to thrust into you unforgivingly. Dragging his fat cock out and your walls pulling him right back in. As he kept ramming into you. Slowly, you start to pleasure tingle up your spine as his tip smashed against the right spots. Your cries of pain turn to pleasurable moans. Hawks wastes no time in teasing you, “Look at you moaning like a slut,” he spanks your ass with swift force sending your rear to sting. You feel unbearable pleasure starting to build up in your abdomen, a straining coil wanting to burst which each of Hawks’ strong thrusts yet it is left unfilled as the simulation is not enough to make you cum from all alone. Hawks notices this, the pitiful crying for him to touch your swollen little clit which was begging to be played with. He almost thought he would give it to you, after all, he was a good person. Almost. 

Hawks just snicker, his cruel, sadistic laugh echoing in the room, “No, no, no.” he teases, “no matter how much you cry, baby. I am not letting you cum. This is your punishment, you deserve this. You’ve been a bad girl.” Hawks couldn’t formulate how he was able to form complete sentences. The moment he had caught you, he had let himself go feral. Dragging you down like a predator, he finally had you under him. He kept grunting and breathing profanity down your ear along with shameful praises about how well your slutty ass takes him. He is glad he is finally getting his much-deserved relief but he is not done yet. He won’t be done until he is filling your vulnerable womb with his seed, he won’t be done until he hears you asking him to give you his children. He is not going to leave you be until he has destroyed you, balls deep in your tiny pussy. He is going to keep you here all night fucking you, he is going to stay there all night fucking you with hate which he has buried within himself for you over the years. He is going to melt you in his hand, break you until only he can build you up, and maybe he will not let you go even after that. Maybe he will keep you after all hawks mate for life. 

Just hope he lets you cum the next time. 

[mrspillow]

Sorry (Jellal Fernandes x Reader)

"Hmm... strawberry cake..."

Suppressing a small laugh you turned your head to Erza, your best friend of childhood days that never seemed to miss the opportunity of shoving cake into her mouth.

You had seen the amounts of baked goods the redhead could swallow within minutes, not even speaking of hours, but when it came to strawberry cakes, it turned ridiculous.

"I do not know how you aren't fat already, Erza", you mused and put your chin onto your palm, still watching that food orgy of hers "But I guess that's okay, Ichiya likes your body just the way you are."

Even though she was wearing armor, you could see the shivers running down her spine and her face growing blue as she choked on that cake.

"Stop that", she didn't like being teased with a matter as serious as Ichiya, not even by you "You know exactly he gives me the chills every time."

You shrugged and turned back to the field inside of the Domus Flau arena in Krokus, watching the pair of wizards fight it out. Although you were no part of a guild, you were busy cheering on for Fairy Tail whenever they entered the field.

Yeah, sure, there were shouts of boos and the mocking of the other guilds but with Erza alone, they couldn't be any worse than the best.

You just knew it.

Even when the both of you were just kids and surely no force to reckon with, she wasn't just a surprisingly powerful mage but also kind and caring for those in her family. She was everything that made you change minds back then and you couldn't have been more grateful. It was only then that you realized just what exactly it was that you were doing and you felt so dirty the moment it became clear as day.

You snapped out of your stupor before it became obvious you were lightyears away and focused on the matches ahead of you.

Snatching the list from Gray's hands (who was too absorbed into fighting off Juvia - as always) to take a glimpse at the letters, you let out a sigh of defeat.

"Can I have a piece too?"

Just as you felt your eyes sliding shut, Natsu bumped into you, nearly making you fall over the handrails but at least, you were awake now.

"Is it finally over?" you leaned back and let out a yawn "Thank God!"

After all, you weren't that much into stuff like tournaments, Fairy Tail was basically the only reason for you to come into this cave of pent-up masses.

Nobody answered you, either tired as well or already on their way through the door and out of the arena, back to their sweet sweet home. You got up quickly and grabbed Erza (still next to you but with a very empty plate - you could only guess Mira had sacrificed her even more cakes) to get out.

It was just then that you noticed how far the sun has gone westwards making you suppress another yawn that made its way up. You got to go to bed soon enough anyway so no need to rush.

The way back out was surprisingly swift and without running into any hostile guilds (lucky you). So you were out before Natsu broke something or bumped into somebody.

"Let's go grab something to eat, (Y/N)? You coming?", you heard Gray's voice from behind you, making you turn around and give him a bright smile - only to decline.

"I'd love to, really, but there is that thing I need to get done yet. Don't worry, I'll be back soon, just start without me.", your voice was sweet enough that you nearly even betrayed yourself, if it hadn't been for that tiny tiny voice in your head.

Why don't you just tell them?

But you brushed it off without a second thought, no need to worry your friends about your self-made worries and troubles.

"Okay...", Erza didn't seem as convinced as you would've liked "You sure?"

A simple nod was enough to soothe her and so, you made your way back into town, taking a stroll through the streets devoid of people or friends. You were alone with your thoughts and the memories that came with them.

You sighed making eye contact with the horizon to take in the way the sun was drowning beneath these parts of bustling streets and places.

You hadn't missed the silence that came with the night for you had heard it over and over again in those sleepless nights.

It shamed you to this day that you hadn't noticed the way he was using you, cocooning you in soft and sweet words to make your finger bleed from hard work and your skin shining from the sweat and tears spilled for him. The worst part of it all was that damned silent voice within you, asking again and again if what you were doing was right.

How could you build weapons of mass destruction meant for thousands with a straight face?

How dared you think sacrificing people to a black wizard could be a way to achieve paradise?

How did you fail to notice that you would never be able to sleep after you were so willing to make these sacrifices more for him than for Zeref after all?

Who knew.

Did I know?

You wondered for years if maybe, just maybe, you had known what you were doing. You probably weren't even able to throw the cloak of ignorance over your shoulders to save yourself from the cold feeling of guilt.

Shame, shame on you.

You hated the way he made you feel so far away from everything like he had built a place away from the wars and the screams of the world, simply made for the two of you.

And again, you failed to notice how it was only the mist caught in between your fingers.

"(Y/N)?"

At first, you thought it was only the back of your mind, playing tricks on you by reviving past days and voices. But after some seconds, you had noticed the silhouette nearby and wondered if you had heard his voice.

Maybe you were going crazy.

At first, you noticed the dark blue hair, sticking out to spite the cloak it was put under, then that tattoo you would notice everywhere.

Jellal Fernandes.

Surprisingly enough, your panicking mind took it upon itself to react, stumping you with the bright - borderline hysterical - laugh that came out of your mouth.

You just couldn't help it. The way he appeared after decades with nothing to say but your name just about the moment you had wallowed in self-hate and guilt was just ridiculous.

Jellal stood quiet, not even his face gave away whatever irritated look he might have had, giving your laugh an untimely end. And that was just about what you needed to come back to your right set of mind.

"What are you doing here?" You didn't bother the biting hate in your voice or the way his shoulders slumped from your tone.

"I came because Erza told me you would be here.", he started when he had straightened again "She said it wouldn't be a good idea but I came because I wanted to speak to you."

You didn't trust the way this man looked so sad. You couldn't.

Not even enough to sit next to him when he scuffled over to the next bench and gestured for you to take a seat.

Not ever, not in a thousand years would you take that seat.

So you stood like a tree, unmoving and unwavering in your place, staring at him and ready to defend yourself by any means.

Would he try anything funny?

From the way, you knew him back then? Definitely.

Surprisingly though, he didn't try to press you into sitting down, instead starting to talk about whatever it was that lead him back to you.

"It took me a very long time to properly realize what had happened in the Tower of Heaven" he started "I did things in there that I never remembered to have said or done, horrible things. And when I remembered, it was like watching through the glass as someone else moved my body."

For the blink of an eye, his hand hovered over his head before he opted to pull down his hood and revealed the dark blue hair. Jellal sighed before he put his face in his hands for a few moments as if he was trying to get ahold of his last pieces of sanity.

"And when I understood what I had done, I felt so, so guilty. I tried to sacrifice hundreds - no, thousands of people, I manipulated you, Milliana, and the others to work for my cause. The worst of it all was the way I led you to believe in the lies I told you over and over again. I remember that look of adoration in your eyes and I misused it for these terrifying things."

The way he spoke of these sins the two of you committed so easily made you relive the shame of it over and over again. It was like your mind couldn't stop.

"I need to atone for these sins, for the things I did to you, and I wanted to start by telling you how sorry I am for the way I treated you and led you into believing these tales.

I do not ask for you to forgive me or to see beyond that, I came here to apologize because that is what you deserve."

For the first time since he started talking, he looked into your eyes as if waiting for your response and your mind came to an abrupt halt.

What exactly was it what you were feeling?

Hate?

Sadness?

Anger?

...No.

For the first time in forever, you could sympathize with him - that person who you had thought of as a monster for much longer than you wanted to admit. He had been taken advantage of and used to do whatever malicious things asked of him. He did not have a choice.

What did he feel like when he discovered how many people had been suffering under him? Was it sorrow? Betrayal? Shock? Or even anger?

And only when you were ready to answer was it that you too were looking into these dark eyes.

"I remember every damn word you spoke whenever you looked at me so fondly and I remember how you laughed at me for even believing in your farce. " you didn't try to cover up the bitterness sneaking in when you recalled your heart break into pieces just like that.

"And now that you are sitting in front of me, asking for forgiveness, I don't even feel the hate anymore." it had stilled to numbness in your heart, always there, but only with that hollow feeling, never leaving.

"I cannot forget", you further explained feeling unshed tears prick in your eyes "My memories have become a part of me and they will never leave again. A Sorry won't fix everything."

By then, two or three tears escaped over your face before you could wipe them away, not escaping Jellals gaze.

He turned to look at the ground for a few seconds, then he moved off the bench and cast a sad smile at you, only to walk away from you as if that was his clue to disappear back into the night.

Only when you understood where he going, you set into motion, reaching out for his hand.

"But..."

The blue-haired male revolved when he felt your hand in his, soft as in those memories he still held close. His eyes became wide at the side of your tearing and red eyes, paired with that tiny, hopeful smile directed at him.

"But... I won't give up on you."

His mouth carved up to mirror your smile as he squeezed your hand just like sunlight kissing your skin.