#the first three i'll take absolutely no arguments

[emloafs]

ck characters and their signs

based on absolutely nothing but the vibes i associate with each sign

sam - scorpio

miguel - taurus

hawk - pisces

demetri - gemini

tory - aries

johnny - leo

daniel - virgo

robby - saggitarius

moon - libra

yasmine - leo

stingray - cancer

kenny - aquarius

anthony - capricorn

devon - virgo

aisha - cancer

carmen - cancer

amanda - aquarius

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 3

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : life on campus with a killer on the loose, the FBI makes an arrest word count : 2k warning : canon-typical violence, swear words (one use of the f-word) A/N : thank you so so much for all the love on this story !!! I'm so glad you all enjoy it <333 I'll probably do a part 4, it may be the last part, idk yet :)

part 1, part 2, part 4

"Spencer, I realise your concern, but lots of women look somewhat like this." It wasn't lost on Spencer what Hotch was trying to do by calling by his first name. "Hotch, she- she could be right next to them. She fits his type right down to the colour of her eyes!" "Spencer, man, you need to think rationally." Derek placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Lots of women have that hair colour and length, it's in style right now, right Emily?" "Yeah, definitely." "Look, I just- I need to make a call."

When Spencer had called you sometime in the evening, you'd been expecting him to tell you he was going to come home late and to not wait up for him. What you weren't expecting was for his voice to be the most serious and stern you'd ever heard it. "Don't go outside until I come home, okay?" He knew it was entirely irrational. The unsub only took women in broad daylight, you weren't facing any more risks than usual. But he couldn't take a chance. Not with this. Not with you. "What? Why?" "Just- I'll explain everything when I come home, I'll be there in a couple hours, but please, don't leave the apartment. And make sure everything is locked." "Spencer, what's going on?" "Can you just-" He paused, forcing himself to remain calm. "Look, do as I say, please. I'll explain everything later, I promise." You hesitated for a moment. Luckily for you, you weren't working at the bar tonight. Luckily for Spencer, you liked him enough to indulge him. "Okay." "Thank you."

"Oh my God, no, absolutely not!" "Y/N, it's for your safety, don't you understand that?!" "My safety? What about my life?"

This was the first real fight you'd ever had. You'd had disagreements, of course, he didn't like you leaving your empty cups and glasses all over the place. You told him off for waking you in the morning by making too much noise. Sometimes you'd get jealous if Geoffrey slept in Spencer's bed rather than yours. Yes, you'd had your fair share of arguments, but none quite like this.

"I'm not asking you to give up your life, you're being totally-" You scoffed loudly, interrupting him. "Spencer, you might as well! Do you realise what you're suggesting I do? You want me to give up on going outside, not go to any of my classes, not see any of my friends, not go to work, don't you see what bullshit that is? It's putting a cross on my social life, my education and my work!" You gesticulated angrily as you speak, feeling heat rising to your face. "I already told you, it's for your own safety." He sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He wasn't even looking at you. A tiny, tiny piece of you wanted to slap him. "I will not stop living my life because some psycho thinks it's fun to kill innocent girls! I won't!" You crossed your arms over your chest and resisted the urge to stomp your foot.

"You're being incredibly childish right now." You hated how he managed to stay calm. You wanted him to get just as angry as you were, livid even. It wasn't fair that you were the only one getting upset. "Are you making all the girls who look like me give up everything for the sake of their safety?" Your tone was mocking and mean but you didn't have it in you to care at the moment. He met your eyes at last, lips turned downwards into a frown. Finally, some sort of emotion. "Don't do that, Y/N," he warned in a low voice. "No, I think it's a valid question. Is your boss making an announcement to the press that all the girls in Mary Washington University who look like the three last girls should stay inside? Is he?" you pushed. Spencer looked away from you again, shaking his head in disbelief at your attitude. "No, he isn't."

"Then why do you expect me to do that?!" You threw your hands in the air, beyond frustrated. For a logical person, Spencer's behaviour wasn't making any sense at the moment. "I don't expect you to do it. I want you to do it, I need you to do it." You could feel his calm facade breaking, piece by piece. "Why, Spencer, fucking why?!" "Because!" He finally exploded, jumping to his feet and slapping his palms onto the table. You didn't jump. "Because it's you, Y/N! I can't work this case if I know you're in danger every single day! If I know yours could be the next dead body students ogle at on the university's front lawn! If I know it's your picture they're going to hang up next to the other victims! I just can't do it!"

Oh.

You let yourself fall down on the couch, running your hands over your face. You were both stepping into uncharted territory. You'd tip-toed this line before but had never crossed it yet. And this was not the way to do it. You were not going to cross the border from friendship into something more by screaming at each other. Spencer seemed to read your silence as distress.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell." He softly trudged over to the couch and sat down next to you. "No, it's okay, I- I kind of wanted you to. I'm sorry for getting so upset." You take his hand in your lap and intertwine your fingers. "I understand, I'm asking too much of you, it's selfish." He gives your hand a squeeze. "I just can't stand the thought of anything happening to you." You sit in silence for a little while, processing.

"I just can't hide while I wait for other girls to be killed, Spencer, it wouldn't be fair." Sometimes, Spencer hated how good of a person you were. If your morals and personal ethics were some of the things he liked about you the most, he couldn't help but curse them in this moment. "I don't care about fair," he mumbled, hating how puerile he sounded. You cooed and laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, I'm sorry."

"I won't promise you anything, but I'll try to always be with someone around campus. I'm usually with my friends anyway. And I can share my location with you all the time if that's reassuring for you." "I'd like that, thank you. And... what about when you're at work?" "I can ask Paul to walk me to my car." Paul was the manager at the bar you worked at, Quantequila. His past was a mysterious blend of prison, MMA fighting and crochet clubs. He liked you plenty and you knew he wouldn't mind walking you to your car for a while. "Thank you."

Over the next week, you did just that. Many students started moving in groups and avoiding being alone at all costs after the FBI released the profile and the pictures of the last victims.

"We're looking for a local white man, early twenties. He may have moved here a year ago, we figure he's either in his first year of BA or MA. This is someone you don't notice, he's shy and introverted, he doesn't participate in class and he won't talk to people if he can help it, especially not women. This man is a loner and does his best to be invisible. We think he stalks his victims for a while before attacking them, so if you start seeing someone you've never seen before in strange places, please notify us. My name is Aaron Hotchner and you'll find the hotline on the screen you're watching this on."

You always had at least two friends with you whenever you were roaming about on campus. Though no one really spoke about the situation, the energy had changed. People were becoming tense and suspicious. Friends were fighting over who should accompany who, when and where. A place which had once gathered so many motivated and joyous students now had those very people looking over their shoulder.

You hated it.

Truly, you didn't want to underestimate this killer, but you were getting tired of it all. You'd wish the BAU would just catch him, but, as Spencer had explained to you multiple times, they had incredibly little to go on. What you knew without him telling you was that they needed another victim to predict his next move. Still, you were a person who appreciated alone time and you had gotten none in the last 10 days. So, when two of your friends who were supposed to walk with you from your class to the subway bailed on you, you weren't that upset.

You put your headphones on, listening to your favourite song of the moment and started walking. You had a tendency of getting lost in your thoughts and didn't notice the sound of heavy footsteps following your own over your music. What you did notice though, was the reflection of someone walking close behind you in a cafe window. You looked over your shoulder, frowning. The sun was in your eyes, blocking your vision, but you managed to perceive an average-sized man with long-ish black hair which hung around his face in greasy strands. Not thinking too much of it, you continued on your way.

You didn't think too much of it when you saw him sitting a few tables away from you when you were studying one afternoon at the library. You were captivated by the Middle English poem under your eyes, wondering what the author had meant with the particular use of the kenning "earth-cave". When you looked up and caught his eyes, cold and unnerving, you didn't overthink it. There were some weird people on campus. Who were you to judge?

When you saw him at your grocery store, though, that was when you started worrying. You were picking up a box of After-Eights for Spencer when you saw him looking at oatmeal raisin biscuits. What really tipped you off was that no one really liked those, so he must have been pretending to look occupied. A chill ran down your spine as all the other places you'd spotted him came back to you. Your lecture hall, the cafeteria, sitting in the lawn under a tree, the main hall,...

You decided that the next time you would see him, you'd tell Spencer. You didn't want him to worry if this turned out to be nothing. Maybe the man was just an exchange student? Or had joined during the academic year?

Two days later, the FBI made an arrest. A man named Ben Colton fitted the profile exactly. In his dorm room, they'd found pictures of women who looked exactly like the last victims and of resembling women on campus, you were part of them. You didn't know that, Spencer had felt you didn't need to be aware of that specific detail. The only problem was that the BAU had no physical evidence tying him to the crimes yet. The arrest had been sanctioned by higher authorities while physical proof was searched for. Police dogs and officers had been tearing through all of his possessions while Garcia had gone through his entire online life. Nothing tying him to the murders had been found.

The general public knew nothing of this, of course. To them, someone getting arrested meant they could go on with their usual lives. The man you'd been seeing left and right had left your mind entirely as you celebrated your regained freedom with your friends.

Of course, Spencer had warned you. They were 99% sure this was the unsub, they just needed the evidence. That didn't eliminate the 1% chance it wasn't him. But 99% chances were good enough for you. You trusted the BAU. Specifically, you trusted Spencer. With your life.

So you started living your life normally again. You left for class a little later because you didn't need to walk with your other friends. You stopped sharing your location with Spencer. You put the volume of your music higher again. You started leaving your pepper spray at home. You started texting while walking again.

Needless to say, you were wholly unprepared for the violent blow to your head as you walked to class one morning. How ironic, you thought as you blacked out, that Mary Goldman had probably experienced the same thing exactly two weeks prior.

Taglist : (all of you who asked for a part three <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina @venomsvl @user-3113s-blog @pumpkin-cake @redros3y @faunrasthewinterelf @puppykinsthepotato @bookishnerd1132 @bonza-bear @teeshamcbeesha @hades-disappointment-child @princesssparkle2024 @darlingcharling-blog @yasmin12312 @khxna @jamieeboulos

[fluffylino]

pussy drunk minho

he'll never admit how dumb he gets for your pussy~

-contains mature themes

"kitten, im not that obsessed with your pussy" minho scoffed out. you clicked your tongue.

now that was a lie.

"i doubt you could last an entire week without it" you argued back. he smirked.

"game on." now it was your turn to make a face.

"so if i win, you'll wear the collar?" his expression dropping. you could see the wheels in his head turning. wondering if he could really beat you against this game.

"that is...that is if you win. which you won't im sure of it but alright" you couldn't help but smile.

"deal"

"seriously though i can live without eating you out..." you laughed right in his face. to which he rolled his eyes.

the whole argument starting when you asked if you could dom him. his immediate response being a firm no. you couldn't help but whine, even begging for it.

if he could dom you. you could dom him.

his response being "i'd rather be the one in control. i feel uneasy submitting."

so you decided to pry more into it. you wanted to know more. to truly understand him.

"because i feel like my mind will go all fuzzy and i'll look like an idiot" that was exactly why you wanted to take charge. if not for sometime. you were happy even if it was a one time thing.

minho was cute eitherway and he'd be even more cuter on his knees.

and then what really did it for you was when he said he wasn't that obsessed with eating you out.

a lie honestly.

his morning routine consisting of waking you up with his face between your legs. breathless and absolutely horny. grinding against the mattress.

it didn't matter if he had to go out. that always came first. and he was one to give amazing head. always having that confident smirk after making you cum.

.

.

the day one was fine.

he seemed normal. doing his daily tasks. going to the company. coming back all sweaty and laying on your chest. you couldn't help how sweet he was.

day three was when you noticed him staring.

you hadn't even realised the t shirt you were wearing had ridden up. enough to have your panties exposed. he was talking to you about the dance formations when all of a sudden you noticed the way his eyes kept lingering downwards.

so playfully you spread your legs open and closed them. you weren't being obvious. him on the other hand was captivated.

eyes locked onto your covered heat.

"minho." you called out. he looked back at your face so fast you wanted to laugh.

"hm?" he hummed out, casually walking out of the room, mumbling that he was going to shower.

when he did go for a bath, you pressed your ear against the door. a heat pooling in your lower abdomen at the sound of him jacking off.

"pfft and he says he can do without it" you muttered under your breath.

.

"you want my cunt so bad, don't you baby" you teased. loving the way he hid his face in the pillows beside you. it looked like he was throwing a tantrum.

"come onnn just put the collar on and then you can taste me-" you suggested, rubbing his back.

"no no no no no-" he chanted cutting you off mid sentence, voice muffled.

stubborn as hell. there was no possible way he would do it.

.

.

"was it that difficult, huh?" minho stared up at you with crazy eyes.

first of all, to get him on his knees was a hassle. and now he glared at you playfully. you let out a small laugh. he really looked like an angry kitten. the clip on cat ears and black collar around his neck made him look so soft.

"are you gonna be a goo-"

"just let me eat y-" you clicked your tongue. now he was really pissing you off. a bratty smile on his face. you just wanted to slap him.

"yes yes. now can i-"

"thats it. im done" you stood up, ready to leave. until you were pulled back. minho gripping your thighs. a look of guilt on his face.

"i'm sorry. i'll be good" he mumbled, a small pout emerging.

"promise?"

"hmmmm"

you sighed. you didn't trust him yet. so you took the leash out. his mouth opening and closing when you hooked it onto the collar. his eyes locked onto were you clutched the leash.

"wh-"

his original question turning into a breathy moan. his face plummeting between your legs.

inhaling your soaked panties for a good few seconds. before he lifted his head back up.

using his teeth to take off your panties. you could see the way his breath hitched upon seeing your cunt. it had been so long since. he saw your pussy. after days. up close. leaning in.

a firm tug to the collar. a small grunt leaving him.

"you think you can just get right into it?" you raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. he seemed to understand. his pride wouldn't let him. but reluctantly he asked.

"may i...please?"

you nodded. satisfied.

.

you gasped. fuck you hadn't even realised how much you missed his mouth on you. his tongue licking into your cunt.

nose deliciously rubbing against your clit. face practically buried there. you were worried he wouldn't be able to breathe.

so you held onto his collar, pulling him back.

"m-mmmh... i-ive been so good" he whined, breathing heavily. your essence and his spit staining his chin and nose.

you noticed he was hard. precum soaking into his sweatpants.

"don't think i didn't notice you humping my foot" you choked out.

pussy throbbing at the loss of contact. you needed his mouth back on you.

"couldn't h-help it, sorry" he apologised, keeping his head down. as if he didn't deserve it. you ran your hands through his hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear.

"its okay, kitten. use my leg, hm?" you reassured, closing your legs around his head.

"aahmmhh f-fuck" minho cried out. enveloped by your thighs. nevertheless taking the opportunity to slurp at your dripping cunt. lewd noises echoing throughout the room.

his hips slowly moving. beginning to grind against your foot. you unconciously pressed down on his cock.

a muffled whimper escaping him.

"you're such a slut, a-aren't you" you hissed out. his lips wrapped around your swollen clit. as he sucked. pushing his nose against your cunt. trying to take more than he could possibly handle.

"say it, baby. you're a slut.." he gasped, glassy eyes looking up at you. sweat dripping down his neck.

lips swollen and red.

"s-slut for...for your p-pussy" he repeated. begging to make you cum.

"dumb f-for your cunt only ahhh"

"please p-please c-cum m-mommy" your breath hitching at the name. you let him get back. cock begging for release.

"gonna cum?" you whimpered out, nearly your climax. his head shaking as he humped your leg desperately.

"c-come on kitty, make me cum"

you moaned loudly, his wet muscle shoved so deep inside of you. his own high pitched moan joining you. both of you cumming at the same time.

a wet patch on his pants. his hips still bucking as he let his tongue hang out. riding his climax out.

nevertheless he cleaned you up. licking and running his tongue through your folds. making sure to not waste a single drop of your tasty essence.

small little whines leaving him at your taste.

"my perfect kitty" you praised him. minho panting as he looked at you. pouting. asking for a kiss. his head resting against your thigh.

"good k-kitty?"

"did so good for me"

.

.

"yeah okay okay...im a hundred percent drunk on your damn pussy"

"AHAH SO I WON-"

.

.

.

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Rating Non-Zelink and Non-BotW Link Ships in Legend of Zelda Games because they don't get enough love

Malink; Malon x Link: Adorable and somewhat canon depending on who you think TP Link's parents are and what timeline shenanigans you subscribe to. Link's first non-Kokiri friend turning into his soulmate is cute and finding peace after the craziness of OoT is beautiful. Also, Malon is cute as a button. 11/10, love you, funky Horsegirl.

Ilia x Link: Pretty good but feels too much like a reskin of Malink to be really fun. People give Ilia grief for freaking out about Epona but it really isn't fucking deserved. Girl get's done dirty by the narrative and the fandom and she deserves better. Also, memory loss and falling in love all over again is absolute peak. 9/10, you deserve better, baby.

Marin x Link: A child's first taste of tragic ending and hot girls being doomed by the narrative. Very child friendly "Calypso and Odysseus" feel to this one. Still, Marin is absolutely adorable and the idea of falling in love with a literal dream is heartbreaking. 10/10, would cry like a little kid again.

Link x Ruto: Okay, hear me out, this one isn't terrible. Ruto's chld-like crush on the guy who saved her life is pretty cute and being a haughty teenager about it is pretty funny. Also, she understands they can't be together, and sends him off with her love and good wishes, which is surprisingly mature of her. I'm just saying, Ruto isn't the weirdo people make her out to be. 7/10, it still feels like entrapment

Midlink; Midna x Link: TOP TIER! BEST OF THE BEST! ABSOLUTE PEAK ROMANCE! Romeo and Juliet style star-crossed lovers from literal opposing sides of reality. Allies of convenience to friends to soulmates?! PEAK! Adorable evil goblin design for most of the game and then complete knockout reveal at the end?! ROMANCE DOOMED BY THE NARRATIVE?! PEAK, I TELL YOU! PEAK! (Also I headcannon that because Midna looks like a Hylian she's considered ugly by Twili standards so Link finding her beautiful warms her heart). 20/10, best ship, best girl, best love story.

Ganlink; Ganondorf x Link: Objectively the funniest Legend of Zelda ship in existence and I will take no arguments on that. Destined enemies giving the middle finger to fate and falling in love instead? Amazing. Ganondorf hates every minute of it but he's also the happiest he's ever been with this stupid twink and he hates that too. 10/10, something something the Grinch's heart grew three sizes that day.

Link x Zant: Objectively hilarious as Link is seducing his enemies into submission yet again, like any self-respecting bard, but this one feels a little too Batman x Joker like for my liking. I really ship Zant x Therapy but Midna watching her rival give up his conquering ambitions for a twink is objectively hilarious. 8/10, not great but not bad.

Got others you want me to rate? Let me know! Or better yet, rate them yourself and I'll tell you if I agree or not.

[lundenloves]

dad!simon masterlist

welcome to emotion, come in, I'll pour you a cup of tea and explain what you're about to go through.

by signing this form i agree that (a) i will not threaten lundenloves or others due to dad!simon delusions (b) i am responsible for my own confusing thoughts 1.1 do i want this man to be my dad? 1.2 or do i want to fuck him? (c) i am responsible for my behaviour if reading while on my period, explosive ovaries are possible.

signature r3ader authors’ signature lund3nluv

one-shots/two-shots → ¹ fatherhood I 1.1k | f!reader [ simon’s mind is racing when you go into labour during one of his deployments. he can’t seem to speak about it, nor stop worrying. not until he receives the phone call. ] → ² fatherhood II 1.3k | f!reader [ simon meeting his daughter for the first time. no other words are REQUIRED omf. ] → ¹ chaotic riley household 1k | f!reader [ being a father comes with the rush of a monday morning, and it's something simon has far from perfected. ] → ¹ taking his kid to base 1.3k [ his one day off was shared with another little someone, taking her to his base because he is an absolute fucking stresshead about work and just had to get something done early. soap and price cameos, the crowd goes wild. ] → ¹ baby's first words 1k | f!reader [ your baby speaks her first word to her father. was it a word or was it a noise? simon declines to answer. ] → ¹ i meet my father when he is a child 1.7k [ his daughter in her 3am feels bro. feeling like shit because he feels like shit pretty much - disgustingly upsetting if you have father issues. ]

longer requests

→ bad arguments 1.2k [ a bad deployment leaves simon in an awful mood, his daughter has had enough and snaps. the big three words, and not the three you're thinking! why! ] → 141 meeting his first daughter 1.6k | f!reader [ the 141 boys meet his daughter for the first time, definitely a fragile moment of madness - to say the least. ] → working through a miscarriage 1k | f!reader | ⚠︎ [ you and simon lose your baby. ] → family ties 2.3k | ⚠︎ [ in which simon’s son enlists behind his back. ceramics are smashed, threats are thrown and feelings are hurt behind nonchalant expressions. ]

head-cannons

→ one | two | three | four [ what's swooshing around my brain surrounding dad!simon. usually at like fucking 1am when i'm on the brink of death. ]

blurb requests

→ his daughter stops making him birthday cards

→ simon comes home to his girls after deployment

→ finding out his eldest daughter has a boyfriend

→ dad!simon on petnames for his girls

taglist? fill out this form. if you would like to be removed from a taglist, pm me.

requests are also open! here is the info. be aware that with dad!simon requests i’ll only write the ones i feel i’ll be able to depict best. i’m not very good at ooc writing for him! (overly soft, cuddly and attentive) no one @ me.

are you lost? back to main masterlist

[mrsrileywrites]

Hi! I read lots of your work and im SO IN LOVE!!! Like I absolutely fell so hard for papa simon 😭😭 i wanna give him a babyy! But i was wondering, how would pregnancy be like with his child. I mean bro is HUGE so his baby would probably be not only pretty big and probably weight a little bit more too than an average newborn. If its okay with you would it be possible for you to write a little story maybe add a little bit of angst? (Idk like argument about something that made the reader really sad?) but please a happy ending 🥹

Feel free to ignore if thats not your thing or just not feeling comfortable writing about it!! LOVE YOUU!! Btw sorry for any misspelling English is not my first language.

First of, as a not native English speaker, your English is perfect.

And second, thank you for your kind words, it really encourages me to keep writing and also boosts my ego 😁

You asked in such a nice and respectful way so I really want to make you happy.

Now here's the thing, I'm an adult with lots of responsibilities and sometimes adulting makes me tired, like last night when I was trying to finish this but I fell asleep and I woke up this morning to find half of my writing disappeared, it just vanished 🥲

But I'll give you this to munch on and I promise I'll finish this before the end of the week.

I hope this is what you were expecting... Enjoy 🫶

A little over 700 words.

_______________________

You stood in front of the sink of your bathroom, holding a pregnancy test on your shaky hands, two little red lines staring right back at you.

How did this happen? How would you tell him? He doesn't want kids, he made it clear from the beginning and you accepted it without a fuss, that's why you've been taking your pills diligently every day, you didn't forget one, did you?... No, you know you didn't, how did this happen?

"You okay there, love?" Simon knocks on the bathroom door and you jump in surprise, like a child that's been caught red handed.

"Y-yes Si, j-just give me a minute... I'll be right there." Your period is about three weeks late so you bought a pregnancy test, your best friends advice, it wouldn't hurt, it was just to make sure, you certainly were not expecting this.

You hid the test on the cabinet under the sink and washed your face before coming out.

It's been a week since your ob-gyn confirmed a six weeks pregnancy and you still haven't found the courage nor the right time to break the news to Simon, so when he gets a call from Price to get deployed on a long mission you fear it would be too late by the time he comes back.

One month at most he said when he kissed you goodbye almost two months ago, you are 16 weeks into your pregnancy and your bump is starting to show, which only adds to your anxiety, between the morning sickness and your hormones being all over the place you still haven't figured out how to tell him.

As you ponder how to break the news to him, you realize that a simple phone call wouldn't suffice. With him stationed on the other side of the globe, risking his life every day, you hesitate to burden him further. At the same time, you know it wouldn't be ideal for him to return home and suddenly find you waddling around with a baby bump.

So you stay quiet and whenever he calls and asks why you sound so exhausted you blame it on your job, you say you are just stressed out, and he promises he'll take care of you once he's back, he'll relieve you from the stress the way you like it, the way only he knows how to.

You are laying on the couch wearing Simon's t-shirt, stuffing yourself with your favorite ice cream and watching trash tv when you hear fumbling outside your front door before it swings open, a very rugged Simon stands in the threshold , you curse under your breath, he didn't say he was coming home the last time you talked on the phone three days ago so you stand there and look at him overly conscious of the bump hiding under his t-shir and you thank the heavens he is a big man, you think the loose fit of his T-shirt would buy you time, your ice cream long forgotten in the coffee table.

He walks towards you with long strides as he pulls his balaclava over his head running his fingers through his messy hair and you shy away, you step back and freeze, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights, he stops in his tracks and tilts her head, his eyebrows pinch as his eyes linger on your midsection and you know you're fucked, he noticed, how wouldn't he, and you hope and pray he'd say something, anything, but he doesn't, he turns on his heels ready to walk out.

"Simon wait!" You call for him and he stops, his hand lingers on the door knob, "I can explain, please just hear me out" your voice cracks and you wish you had been brave enough to tell him before, you know about his childhood and his trauma, you know his struggles and why he didn't want children in the first place, he trusted you and you broke his trust, you deceived him from the moment you found out you were pregnant and decided to keep it to yourself because you were too scared to trust him back.

"Explain what?" He shouts turning around and walking towards you again, your hands fly to your belly instinctively, protective. You lower your head, eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.

[pixel-percy]

🥊 Heartsteel Universe — You haven't seen your ex in years, not since he became a famous popstar, but today is about to ruin that streak. 🥊

🥊 Word Count: 3k 🥊 Music Vibes: Down Bad by Taylor Swift 🥊 Warning(s): Smut (fingering), public sex (technically), angst (about your ex/non-mutual break-up), & a sprinkle of jealousy 🥊 A/N: Apologies if there are any egregious errors, I've been trying to get this fic out of my head for so long now so I hunkered down to finally push it out today. I'll probably go back at a later date to spruce it up if it needs it. I passively enjoy League content & have favorites despite not having played in many years 🥰 heh

He probably thought you didn’t recognize him… But you did. Of course, you did. How couldn’t you? Sure, he was a pop star, glitz and glam probably filled his every moment nowadays, but he was still your ex-boyfriend.

A chorus of “SETT!”s at the highest pitch possible had carried through the gym air and met your ears at the front desk. You did your best to stave off the annoyed expression on your face—not just because there was a high possibility of seeing him, but because the sound of the fangirls that played a hand in ruining your relationship rattled you to your bones. Of course, he’d choose this gym. Of course.

So when Sett had finally passed by the desk, you thought you might have gotten lucky since his head was turned, but at the last second, he’d locked eyes with you. A surge of emotions passed through your body like an electric shock. It was hard to tell what exactly he was feeling, and part of you was trying desperately not to care, but you could have sworn you saw a hint of sadness mixed with surprise before his security team pulled him away. The fangirls pushed against the security at the front of the gym, shouting and waving their posters and other memorabilia they wanted him to sign. You rolled your eyes and returned to the task you’d been doing before the chaos of your ex’s entrance.

You’d done everything in your power to push through the slew of emotions you felt weighing on your chest—you were pretty sure you’d cleaned a single machine at least three times in a row while in your emotional daze—and didn’t spot him once after his initial entrance. You weren’t sure if you were relieved or not and by the time you made it to the end of your shift at midnight, you were ready to blow off some steam.

The gloves you donned were thick and absorbed each punch that collided with the punching bag. One, two. One, two, three. One. One, two. You timed the hits with your breaths as a guitar solo pulsed in your earphones and sweat dripped down your forehead.

It had been a year since you’d last had contact with Sett, or, since you cut off your communication with him. The decision wasn’t easy but it was what you felt was best for you and your mental at the time. You remember how he pleaded, holding your hands in his, absolutely dwarfing them, eyes big and tearful, but your pain was too much, the paranoia was too much.

The magazine that sparked the argument in the first place sat between you. On the cover was a story about him, the upcoming star, and Ahri, from KDA, and their potential romance brewing. This was in addition to the already circulating rumor amongst fans about him and his bandmate, Aphelios. He denied it all, doing everything he could to convince you, but between them, the fans, and the comments they made about you, it was just too much. You couldn’t take it and you couldn’t bear the idea of forcing him to deal with your emotions on top of his big break. So you cut off.

The punch you landed was a little rough, bending your wrist more than intended, and you felt the sobering pain radiate through your hand. You practically growled at the feeling and shook it out in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension you felt already building in your tendons. The room you were in was empty, it was rare to see it full at this time of night, and you were thankful for it. 

That bubble of frustration you’d felt in your chest pushed out and you sent all of it through your next punch. The impact sent the punching bag flying… but not as far as you thought it might go. You blinked and noticed a pair of hands holding on to either side. A head peered around the object—red hair with two ears poking out of the top of the strands, a long scar across his nose, and familiar green-blue eyes.

You could make out the words “Hey” and your name and you contemplated leaving in your headphones before he gently tapped his ears. A request. Your jaw clenched, taking a long moment to consider him before you pulled out your headphones and pocketed them.

“Why are you still here?” you asked, a bit cold. His sheepish smile turned downward ever so slightly and his ears flattened on his head. There was a small bloom of sadness in your chest seeing it.

“Just, you know, working out,” he answered.

“I hoped you would’ve been gone by now.”

His expression dropped completely at that point.

“You did?”

Your jaw clenched. Everything in you wanted to not be in this situation, to see his sad expressions, to feel so damn bad about being cold to him, but you didn’t know what else to do. Inviting the heartache of leaving him back into your life, even for a moment, wasn’t something wanted. Flashes of his tear-filled eyes watching you as you left with your bags of stuff crossed your mind and it made you start moving.

You moved past him and into the rows of punching bags in this part of the gym. From behind you, he said your name and pleaded for your attention, but you wanted out. You almost made it to the bench your stuff was on when you felt his large hand wrap around your forearm. It wasn’t a rough touch, but it was firm enough to pull your eyes back to him.

“What did I do to make you hate me so much?” he asked, confusion and pain in his words. You knew tugging yourself free would be useless so you stood your ground and stared him down. His touch was like molten lava seeping into your skin. You didn’t hate him, you hated the people that came with his fame and the lack of protection to shield you from them.

“I don’t hate you,” you said quietly.

“Then why are you acting like this?”

“Because being in the same vicinity as you is painful.”

Sett paused and his brows furrowed.

“You were the one that broke up with me,” he said, words laced with the hurt you imagined he was also feeling. You stared at each other for a long moment. Nothing that came to mind could quell the tension nor the steady increase of your heartbeat. It all just fell flat.

“Let me go,” you said, tugging at your arm, the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes despite all your attempts to stop them.

He huffed in disbelief.

“I haven’t seen you in a year. Not since you just, decided for the both of us that this wasn’t going to work. I’ve never known you to be so… So cruel,” he said. Sett’s eyes were as devastating as his words. It felt like a knife digging into your chest, threatening to carve your heart out.

“Sett, please,” you tried and turned your eyes down to where he held you.

“No, talk to me, please.”

“I have nothing,” you said. “I told you why I was leaving.”

“No, you gave me bullshit excuses and scenarios that didn’t exist,” he pushed… and he was right. You knew he was even back then when he sat across from you on the couch clasping your hands in his and tears streaming down his cheeks, just trying to understand.

“They weren’t excuses, Sett. I was so proud of you—s-still am, but…” You looked up at him and flared your nostrils with a sigh. There was no avoiding this. “Neither of us could have known how quickly fame would come. How possessive Heartsteel’s fans would be. How… brutal they’d be to me. How brutal it would be for me to watch rumors about affairs swirl. I couldn’t do it. I wanted you so bad, I wanted us, but I knew I couldn’t have you and… and…”

The tears had begun to fall. You cursed under your breath and wiped your free hand against your cheek, tears settling on the material boxing glove you still wore. Sett stepped forward and pressed his thumb over the new tear that had already begun its descent down your cheek. You recoiled a little but in response, he caught your chin and tilted up so you could look at him.

“You always had me,” he whispered. “Still do.”

Everything in you that wanted to bolt, to hide from the shame and sadness and anger seeing him made you feel, stilled. Your heartbeat pounded in your throat at his touch, at his attention, and you swallowed hard under his intense examination. The blue-green of his eyes felt so familiar and safe that it made the knot in your chest twist and expand.

“Sett… I don’t think we could even if we—”

“Why not?” he pushed. “I don’t care what any of them think. I never have. You didn’t even give me the chance to fight for us. For you… You just left.”

“I was scared. I didn’t want my heart broken by you… So I broke it for myself. I thought it’d be easier and it was but… Now…”

His ears twitched, a beam of hopefulness crossing his expression.

“Now? What about now?” he asked.

You didn’t know. A part of you felt so hopeful, so ready to try again just from his magnetic pull alone. How safe he made you feel. That hadn’t changed. You opened your mouth to say something but the sound of the door opening startled you both. Sett’s grip loosened enough for you to pull your arm away, both of you looking toward the interruption. A man in a suit you recognized as one of his security guards had begun approaching.

“There you are, sir—”

“Jackson, not now—No wait!” Sett called your name.

You’d already managed to get one of your gloves off so you could grab your bag and head toward the private bathrooms. You felt like you couldn’t breathe with his hand on your arm and now was your chance to pull yourself out of his orbit before you did something stupid.

You only managed to get to the door before you were stopped again by something yanking you to a stop, but this time it was the handle of your gym bag. You twisted around, ready to fight someone, but instead was met with a quick blur of Sett’s figure before his lips crashed into yours.

It was bold, something you hadn’t anticipated, and while you wanted to pull away… you felt him punching at the icy wall you’d built for yourself after everything. Every breath, every motion, everything felt like he was chipping at it piece by piece, until, well… It shattered.

Your free hand opened the door to the private bathroom and you dragged him into it. You were thankful that the cameras didn’t touch this part of the hallway, which only spurred on this potential mistake.

The two of you stumbled into the space—it was typically reserved for gym employees and special guests who wanted to avoid the more public locker rooms. It was spacious enough to house the usual bathroom amenities plus a bench for you to utilize as needed and the standing shower was nestled into the corner, blocked by the door whenever it was open.

Sett closed the door and locked it once you were both inside before his large hands clasped onto the back of your thighs to pull you into the air effortlessly. The bag you’d both been holding onto tumbled to the floor, kicked by the shuffle of his feet. Your back met the wall across from the door, inhaling deeply when his lips left yours to nip at your neck.

“Sett,” you tried, breathless.

“I’ve missed you—” His lips pressed urgently against your pulse. “So much.”

“Sett… We can’t… I can’t…”

Your mind was whirling at the feel of him, the heat he elicited from your body. His lips slowed to an agonizing pace but he heeded your words, head picking up to look directly into your eyes, surprised to find them not fully enveloped in lust… It was the adoration, the haze of love, that made your heart stutter. You could cry.

“I can stop,” he whispered. Sett’s gaze dropped to your lips. “I just…” You waited, drawing in a breath so deep that the orange-scented cleaner you were familiar with tingled in your nose.

All of your emotions and warning bells were as loud and overwhelming as an extreme weather siren. You shouldn’t do this. Any progress you’d made—either of you had made—was already shattered, leaving you vulnerable. But you still found yourself asking, “What?” It was just as soft as his whisper, timid, afraid.

Sett took in a similarly deep breath, except a hum danced within his throat and rumbled through his chest like a growl. 

“I don’t want to,” he said with a small, bashful laugh. One of his fangs pulled at his lip as he turned his eyes back up to yours. “I want to keep touching you… But only if you want me to. I can also leave. Just—Just tell me—” You placed one of your index fingers on his lips and he promptly stopped talking. 

You didn’t know what to do. Everything in you knew this was likely temporary, and the moment he left this room, things would go right back to the way they were, except this time with brand new wounds on your heart to cater to. But here he was, looking at you with his eyes, ears flat against his head, waiting for you to make your call, and probably just as scared as you. A sigh left you.

“Go ahead,” you said. Sett’s ears twitched, expression lightening. “Touch me.”

You got the feeling he’d waited for you out of courtesy, for you to potentially change your mind after that statement, but seized your lips with his after barely a second. His eagerness stole the breath from you, resulting in a chuckle that he inhaled and returned. He moved you toward the bench and effortlessly placed you down on it, lips never leaving yours.

The rush of approval had him on a mission that you guessed involved the shedding and ripping of clothes—but you were wrong. Instead, one of the hands that had been holding you reached down, slid past your waistband and started to work. A surprised gasp left your lips. He pulled away to gaze down at your face as it writhed in pleasure. The way his fingers moved against your clit was so deliciously familiar and mindful with every circle. 

You instinctively reached one of your hands down toward his growing bulge to provide some mutual relief, another familiar motion, but was stopped by Sett’s free hand. You brow furrowed and he leaned down to place a soft kiss upon it whilst guiding the hand he’d stopped on his neck. 

For a fraction of a second, you wondered if the world knew about this Sett, this loving, calm, goofy, loyal man you’d always known. Not just fist fights and bad boy leaning tendencies.

You selfishly hoped they never would.

“No, just you this time,” he said. You clocked the ‘this time’ but it was stifled the moment you felt one of his fingers ease into you. Your back arched.

Any protests you had left with the rest of your reservations about all of this. You nodded, warmth pooling in your cheeks now, and rolled your eyes back when the finger he’d slipped inside of you touched that spot he knew very well. Your body twitched, your other hand grabbing as much of his bicep as you could for balance, and let him work.

Sett’s mouth trailed kisses anywhere he felt like it as his fingers moved. Little whispers of your name left him occasionally but you could barely hear it over the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears. You wished you weren’t so close to coming already, you wished he didn’t know you in and out in every way imaginable, yet here you were about to topple over the edge of bliss at the hands of a man you still loved—no matter how much you wanted to deny it.

“Sett,” you gasped.

“I know,” he assured, the hand on your hip the only thing truly grounding you to this plane of existence. 

The tightness in your stomach finally released, a moan tumbling from your lips as stars danced behind your eyelids. Sett helped you ride through your orgasm with targeted praise, soft touches, and lips. Everything about his patience and opt for celibacy just added to your surprise about everything. He helped you to a sitting position and rubbed your back, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I…” You blew hot air out into the room. “Shit.” Sett laughed and brought one of your hands up to his lips.

“Yeah,” he said knowingly. You turned to catch his gaze, a smile breaking out on his lips that you couldn’t help but return. “Can I… give you a ride home?”

Reality started to set in after the high and you could feel the hardening of your heart begin again. You bit your lip in contemplation. His expression started to soften again, almost as though he were ready to be hurt by your rejection once more.

“Alright,” you said. The creeping freeze of your heart halted enough for you to add, “Maybe we can grab late-night ramen and talk…?”

“I’d like that,” he answered.

“Do not text your Mom about this,” you added with a deadpan look that made him laugh. He got to his feet and gently tapped his knuckles against your chin.

“No promises,” he said cheekily. You rolled your eyes, free of any real annoyance, and smiled. No matter what you wanted yourself to believe, you missed him too.

[poopingonthefloor]

Davesport is Toxic NOT abusive

(((WARNING: PRETTY LONG POST UNDER THE CUT.))) I've seen some people making the claims that Davesport is comship/proship (ok well i've more seen people bitching about it) and im tired of the Davesport slander so this will be an analysis of their relationship. My motive isn't to force anyone to ship it or anything- i really dont care what you do with your life, my frustration is just when people try to make up REASONS why they don't like the ship, even though its literally canon (and not badly written). My main point is -- You can hate what you want. You don't need a reason, and it doesn't need to be bad just because you don't like it. But I will not take any slander on their ship nor any slander of people who like davesport. Davesport is absolutely toxic-- No DSAF fan would disagree. They are literally child murderers with little to no souls and literally are physically disfigured to the point they don't have the capacity to feel proper humanity anymore. You cant expect 2 men who live their lives willingly murdering and then partying in vegas to celebrate on repeat to be gentle and kind to themselves or anyone else.

However, its NOT abusive. I've seen multiple people (mostly from twitter screenshots) claim that Davesport is abusive or the way people portray it is in a fetishy or romanticizing way of abuse, when that's just not the case. I don't blame a lot of people, since a lot of it comes from reading context and intent of the artist, which not everyone is good at-- BUT I'm here to assure you that MOST people don't intend to do that much and just like to portray how their dynamic is canonically like or portray Daves obsession with Jack. Another argument I've seen (by a twitter screenshot...) is that people are comshipping Davesport because people draw Jack annoyed a lot at Dave when...thats not true? That's just Jack's personality, first off:

(From the Dave x Reader fanfic by Directdoggo)

"Jack is a bastardman not very touchy-feely. We can see this in many scenes, where Dave more or less says “I love you” and Jack responds with deflecting humour, or outright scorn. When Dave says it for the final time, this time, Jack tries to say it back, but can’t outright, only getting out: “Why is this so hard?” and “I hope you can find peace with what you’ve done.” Which Dave understood the meaning of. (Hey, better than Henry (LEGACY Jack) hearing “I love you” and proceeding to tear Dave limb from limb, huh?"

(Directdoggo describing Jack's personality)

I know it can be a little confusing to some people, but as someone who struggles with similar issues, just because he struggles to express intimately doesn't mean he can't love anything. Sometimes people are just different and communicating like that doesn't come as easily, even to the people you're closest to. To make it as easy as possible to comprehend-- He's quite literally a tsundere. (Minus the exaggerated ridiculousness in anime) He loves Dave, he just cant bring himself to say or act like it. The dismissiveness or rudeness in response to Dave's affection is not abuse, it's just a defensive response since he doesn't know how to say it back. (His way of being "shy") -- Also note its important that Dave UNDERSTANDS this about him by that point.

However Jack isn't the only thing I've seen regarding the claims that their ship is abusive-- and to debunk all of those I'm going to explain the three points that keep Davesport from being abusive, and I'll use Henry x Dave (which is what I'll call it to prevent it getting confused for FNAF willry) as an example alongside it since its super obvious why that one is messed up. Firstly, They are both bad people. By this point, Dave and Jack are murderers. It's just not surprising that they will be willing to kill each other at at least some point, considering they are willing to kill 5 year olds without remorse- and they'll both deserve it. It's only their own faults that they teamed up with the other, and it's meant to be the ultimate irony when Jack becomes even worse than Dave by "An ending". My point is- they're bad people. It's not like they're owed perfect company or would choose wholesome people to hang out with when they're literally both child murderers. Dave wasn't evil and didn't want to kill by the time he teamed up with Henry (and even after it was Henry's fault), so by that point his suffering was absolutely undeserved.

Secondly, They're lacking any specific power dynamic. Unlike Henry and Dave- whom have several levels of "Age, Father figure, and Employer", the most important one is that Henry is Dave's abuser. He manipulated him and purposefully harmed him both mentally and physically, whereas Dave never had any intention of doing either because Dave loved him and didn't want to lose him (because he had nobody else) This obviously much different with Dave and Jack, whom other than being taller and several years older than (which you can argue their 6 year age gap is weird but they didnt get to know each other till they were both older than 30 so by that point age difference doesnt rlly matter and (also theyre "mentally" like 24 and 22 canonically anyways (as much as I usually hate that argument)) Other then that they are only co-workers. This is a bit more arguable during DSAF 1, where Dave comes across more threatening and comes across like he's manipulating Jack, but I don't exactly count that because I wouldn't say theyre "shippable" or in their "situationship*" by that point (but also because them even being a ship was barely considered by the creator at that point obviously)-- whereas Dave is certainly more easily recognized as sincere to Jack in DSAF 2. Jack also is not someone who is afraid to defend himself against Dave, as shown by the fact he's willing to call out Dave's ridiculous behaviors (which is reasonable of him to do).

(Also from the Dave x reader fanfic) (I just think this specific screenshot debunks any sort of "power dynamic" claim)

My Third and Final point: There is a CHOICE involved I haven't really done much Dave defense in this post, but his defense is very simple: He is literally physically unable to comprehend guilt or conscience. Dave didn't want to murder anyone in the first place, but it was Henry who fucked with his (literal) head so much to the point he stopped being able to feel guilt. He doesn't care about murder and doing wrong because he CAN'T care. You can't really let that reflect Dave as a character when he's really not in control of himself in the first place. Now with that, that doesn't change the fact he could certainly affect and hurt people, and it's fully up to Jack as to whether or not he wants to deal with this purple man's freakish life choices and hobbies or not. And that's honestly super dependent on the ending you decide to base Jack on. Most people see the 'canon' endings to be: Gnarly ending (DSAF 1) -> An ending (DSAF 2) -> Good ending (DSAF 3) Where in all of these, Jack DOES choose to deal with Dave and basically is completely cool with murder. You don't have to follow those endings if you don't want to, but that's just typically what the modern "Davesport" is known for, but its what I'm using for my defense (considering this is a defense of both fandom and canon Davesport.) Though as opposed with Henry and Dave- Dave had no choice. Henry only ever manipulated him into thinking he did, and Henry made sure to feed this whole 'we will be a family' ideal into Dave (who never had one) so that Dave would be terrified to lose him. Jack never manipulates Dave (when teamed up with him), and Dave never manipulates Jack (tho arguable in DSAF 1 as well). They stay with each other despite all of their issues, and I believe its due to some co-dependency (imo I think Jack is also obsessed with Dave just in a different way before DSAF 3) Which isn't healthy, but not...inherently abusive.

I believe my main three points kind of cover the most of why I dont consider Davesport to be inherently a bad ship, but like I said- if you don't like it, none of that matters anyways. You dont NEED a reason to like something, and I wont try to convince you why you should ship something because I like it. Just don't hate it just because of what someone else says-- 90% of the dsaf fandom aren't comshippers, and Davesport isn't gross or "toxic /neg" just because it's not healthy. I think "Don't fetishize/romanticize literal abuse like its normal or sexy" and "We should explore more complicated and unhealthy dynamics" can and SHOULD coincide with each other!!!! I think Davesport is great because of how bittersweet it is that these two people finally found solace and acceptance in each other but couldn't get past the self-sabotaging nature of what Henry turned them both into, ultimately making it impossible to work out forever. I think embracing the Davesport makes the (kind of aged) trilogy a lot more enjoyable of an experience and I DO encourage any davesport skeptics to keep an open mind. [Pretend I wrapped this up super nicely I can never do that--- Also this is open for conversation and/or debate, and also yada yada my bad if i said something randomly terrible I have extremely poor social skills lol let me know so I dont do it again yada yada] *Also if anyone doesnt know a situationship is (at least in the context im using it in ive heard other definitions for it but its not a real word so i actually dont care) when 2(or more) people basically treat eachother like lovers but they never communicate this outright and dont technically officially date but like they treat and commit to eachother like a partner would) (So its kind of what all those people who playfully flirt and call each other their spouses as a commited running joke are in)

[j23r23]

Double booking

Tangerine x fem Reader - angsty? & fluff

warning: blood, mention of dying, death, suffocation

Great.

Married for a week and already shot by your brother-in-law.

No, it's not what you think.

Blood oozed out between your fingers, staining your wedding ring.You press harder against the gunshot wound on your left glute, a hiss escaping your lips. You are leaning against the cold brick wall of an office building in the middle of the night, hearing Tangerine and Lemon arguing just a few feet away.

"You absolute muppet, Lemon! You just shot my wife!" Tangerine's voice is a mix of fury and panic, his thick accent making him sound even more exasperated.

"How was I supposed to know that it was your wife?!" Lemon snaps back, his annoyance barely hiding the guilt in his eyes. "It should just be you, me and the target in this bloody building! For fucks sake, she shouldn't even be here! Why are you even here in the first place?" Lemon turns to you now, all flabbergasted.

"Lemon, i am as confused as you are." you began, your voice steady yet tinged with a hint of exasperation. "But I'm guessing it's highly probable that there was a mix-up, due to the recent change in my records all three of us got a call for tonight. I guess, when I took on Tangerine's last name, it likely triggered a glitch in the system, resulting in this fucked up double booking."

Tangerine's voice cracked with annoyance as he spun around to face Lemon again to continue their argument. "You still shot my wife in the ass!" he exclaimed, his tone sharp.

Lemon' rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean to, it was a fucking accident!" he said irked. "All I saw was a figure in the shadows, thinking it was the twat we need to kill tonight. Not my fault the database did a double booking because you two share a last name now!"

Tangerine's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, his frustration boiling over. "Lemon, if she dies, I'm going to kill you myself," he threatened, his voice low and seething with barely contained anger.

You snicker at Tangerine "I'm not dying, love... just, severely inconvenienced." You manage a weak chuckle, wincing at the pain and trying to calm your husband, who was not amused with the situation. "You know darling, I always said changing my last name to yours would come back and bite me in the ass. Just didn't think it would be quite so literal." You glare at Lemon.

Tangerine kneels beside you bringing his hand to your cheeck, his anger momentarily replaced by concern. "Sweetheart, we need to get you patched up."

"Not yet" You grit out, trying to focus on the mission. "We need to take out the target first. Can't have him spilling company secrets from our employer while I'm busy bleeding all over the floor."

Lemon glances around, clearly frustrated. "This is ridiculous! You are clearly not in any condition to continue. You should get that bullet out asap."

"And she's also a professional," You cut in sharply, mustering as much authority as you can. "Which means she knows the job comes first. Now quit arguing and get moving. I've got enough adrenaline to keep me going for a bit."

Tangerine looks torn, his jaw clenched pressing his forehead to yours for a moment. "You sure about this, love?"

"Yes" You whispered, managing a weak smile. "Now go. I'll be fine. Just... hurry back."

He hesitated, looking at Lemon he stands up. "Lemon, you stay with her. I'll handle the whistleblower."

"Like hell I will!" Lemon protested. "You stay, I'll go. Shes your wife, not mine!"

"Both of you go!" You snapped, mustering as much authority as you could. "Like i said, I can handle myself for a few minutes. Besides," You add with a wry smile, "I'm not going anywhere until I get a proper honeymoon. Now, finish the job so we can go home and you can patch me up, alright?"

Lemon rolls his eyes, pulling out his gun and checking the clip. "Fine, but if you die becaues it got infected, I'm blaming you for it."

You roll your eyes. "And ill haunt your ass. Now, go be the charming psychotic duo I love, and kill that son of a bitch."

They exchanged a look, then nodded reluctantly. Tangerine kissed Your forehead quickly. "Be right back, love."

As they headed further into the building, their bickering voices fading, you leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes.

But a sudden commotion snapped you out of your brief reverie. You pressed yourself into the shadows under a desk, listening intently. Someone else was on the same floor. You could hear panting and a string of whispered profanities. The sounds drew closer. It wasn't Tangerine or Lemon for sure—so it had to be the target.

You shifted around to get a better view of your surroundings, muscles tensed and ready. The moment the target sprinted past, you extended your leg, tripping them. They went sprawling across the floor. Without wasting a second, you pounced, locking them into a chokehold. Their arms and legs flailing as you tightened your grip around the neck.

Just then, Tangerine and Lemon came rushing back, their footsteps pounding against the floor. They skidded to a stop when they saw you.

Tangerine smirked. "Need a hand, love?"

You tightened your grip. "One moment, please," you said calmly, watching as the target's struggles weakened, his face turning purple and snapping for air.

Lemon chuckled. "And here I thought I actually have to do some work."

As the target's body stopped moving, you release your hold and pushed him off of you "All done." you say, brushing some strands of hair out of your face and trying to ignore the throbbing pain in your butt.

"Nice work." Lemon comments, holstering his weapon.

"Thas my wife." Tangerine adds proudly, a grin spreading across his face. "Now come on, poppet. We can't have you bleeding all over the place longer."

You roll your eyes, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "Good idea, love."

Tangerine scoops you up gently, careful not to jostle your wound. "Let's get you patched up, and then we'll be on our Honeymoon, yeah?"

Lemon leads the way out, keeping a lookout for any more trouble. "I'll tell you what," he says over his shoulder, "next time, I'm double-checking the mission report. No more mix-ups. Can't stand your lovey dovey shit."

You chuckle, resting your head against Tangerine's shoulder. "You do that Lem. And maybe try not to shot me the next time?"

And thus, another day in the life of a newlywed assassin comes to an end.

[pollymorgan]

Coach Negan Part 2

Warnings: Negan beeing Negan, hot table sex

Okay, I did it again! Have fun with the second part! 🤭

When I wake up, I briefly think I had a pretty intense dream. But when I see the phone lying next to me on the pillow, I realize that unfortunately, it was real.

Oh man, I've started some pretty weird actions lately. Somehow, my life seems to have gone a little off track. But phone sex with my daughter's hated gym teacher pretty much tops it all.

At least I didn't oversleep, not even once this week! Who knows, maybe I'll still be "Mother of the Year."

Feeling a bit off-kilter, I shuffle to the bathroom to freshen up.

With the toothbrush in hand, I let my thoughts wander. Okay, the whole phone call was a bit sexy. Well, actually, pretty hot. My cheeks start to flush as I think about Negan's voice and how dominant he was.

Damn, the whole thing was more erotic than anything I've experienced in the last 5 years. At least! Although that's not saying much....

Suddenly Negan's last words come to mind.

"Okay, I'll expect you tomorrow at 3:30 pm for a parent-teacher meeting at the school, and without panties.. Good night!"

Fuck! My ex-husband is picking up the kids today. At least, that's the last I heard. From experience, I can say that can change at any time. Anyway, I absolutely must not run into Negan at this time, preferably never again. But that will probably be a bit difficult...

The morning goes by thankfully without any major catastrophes. A few arguments, two forgotten homework assignments, and spilled milk later, I've dropped off my three kids at kindergarten and school on time.

Feeling somewhat relieved, I return home. There's chaos in every room, but it's quiet in the house. After calmly drinking a coffee, I decide it's really time to start filling my social media channel with content again. After all, it's become my job, albeit somewhat involuntarily. I'll make a post about a nutritious, quick meal for stressed out mothers. At least I don't have to go shopping again. I have all the necessary ingredients in the fridge, and it's not too time-consuming.

Just as I'm preparing everything, my phone vibrates. Assuming it's a message from my ex, canceling the meeting with his kids for some flimsy reason, I open the message annoyed.

"Be on time today, otherwise it's detention! 😉 Negan."

Oh God, I had hoped this whole thing would just fizzle out. Feeling a bit nervous, I set the phone aside and try to focus on what I actually had planned. But that's not so easy! I keep staring at my phone, afraid of receiving the next text or out of desire? I can't even define it myself.

Screw it! I was married for 19 years and I've based my whole life on this man. Taken care of the kids and the household and always put myself last. Only to be left. So, what's wrong with having a bit of fun?

I quickly grab my phone and reply.

"Just detention? 😯 I expected a more creative punishment! 🙈"

I hesitate for a moment, but then I send the text. My heart pounds wildly in my chest as I see the two checkmarks next to the message. It only takes a few seconds before I receive a reply.

"You naughty girl, don't challenge me ...".

I can't help but grin.

Quickly I type, "As they say, 'Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go on the teacher's desk' or something like that ...😉"

"I can't wait ... Room 319, in the big gymnasium," I receive as a reply.

I look at the clock. It's just after 12 pm. I quickly finish my Instagram post to have enough time to get ready.

After a thorough shower, I stand somewhat desperate in front of my closet. I absolutely must not show up too sexy at Peggy's school. But my obligatory gray jeans and a plain t-shirt that has been my wardrobe staple lately won't do either.

I'm as excited as before a first date, and in a very strange way, that's what it is.

In the depths of my closet, I find a royal blue knee-length pencil skirt and a matching white blouse with large dots in the same color, with the price tag still attached. I put it on and critically examine myself in the mirror. I've always been slim, but the impending divorce has cost me at least another five kilos.

I loosely tie up my hair and apply light makeup. Then I put on my favorite scent, a mix of vanilla and cherry that I've worn far too rarely lately, afraid the bottle might run out.

Now there's no time for doubts. Determined, I go to the car, start the engine, take a quick look in the rearview mirror to remove mascara smudges under my eyes, and head towards the school.

There are only a few students left on the grounds. Most have already finished, just like my daughter. Thankfully! He actually managed to pick her up. Miracles do happen after all!

I have the terrible feeling that everyone is watching me and knows exactly what I'm up to, although that's obviously nonsense.

Feeling a bit nervous and with a pretty strong flutter in my stomach, I go to the big gymnasium. Disoriented, I roam the narrow corridors and then stop in front of room 319. Okay, so I'm really going to go through with this.

The door isn't closed, just ajar. I take a deep breath and then push it open further. Negan is sitting at the desk, focused, with some papers in hand, and suddenly startles. As he catches sight of me, he begins to grin, his perfect teeth shining through.

Oh man, has he always looked so damn good? He's wearing a khaki jacket over his jeans shirt and glasses with a dark rim. Determinedly, he stands up and walks directly towards me, while I remain rooted to the spot, staring at him.

He stops right in front of me and leans against the door frame with one arm. I have to look up at him because he easily towers over me. The woody, masculine scent of his cologne envelops me and literally clouds my senses.

"Never heard of knocking?" he smiles at me and then lightly licks his lower lip with his tongue.

Finally, I find my words again. "Well, I seem to be a really naughty girl, but at least I'm on time...".

Dramatically, he looks at his golden wristwatch. "Right on time..." he states curtly and gestures for me to come in, before immediately locking the door. At the sound of the lock, my heart gives another heavy thump.

So, I'm really here now.

I quickly glance around the room, feeling his eyes on me the whole time.

"Sit down!" he commands and goes back to his desk. Just as I'm about to take a seat on one of the two chairs in front of it, he protests.

"No, here..." He taps the table clearly and sits on his chair, never taking his eyes off me. After a brief hesitation, I sit down, as ordered, directly opposite him on the table, crossing my legs. As confidently as possible, I look down at him. When our eyes meet, small electric shocks run through my entire body, seemingly converging in my lower abdomen. His gaze continues to roam over my body, to my legs and back up. We remain silent for a moment, but then he breaks the silence with the sentence, "And did you remember not to wear any panties?".

My cheeks blush even more intensely, I have to swallow hard before I can respond. "Yes."

"Okay, then show me..."

Slightly confused, I try to think. This man hasn't even touched me, let alone kissed me yet, and I'm supposed to present my most intimate parts on a desk to him?

"Come on, don't be shy..." he adds demandingly, noticing my hesitation.

As if on command, I jump off the table in one go, pulling up my tight skirt until it barely covers my butt. I then brace myself on the desk with both hands, ready to jump up and slightly spread my legs in front of him. Negan leans further forward and stares unabashedly at me. He grasps my knees to open my legs a little more.

It's the first time I feel his warm hands on my bare skin.

"And shaved just for me, that wasn't necessary..." he states, satisfied and self-assured.

His hands slowly continue to my thighs, then he lightly rests on them and positions himself directly between my legs. His face is only a few centimeters away from mine, and I feel his breath just as heavy as mine. I examine every pore and every small scar thoroughly until my gaze falls on his lips. Without thinking further, my arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

Finally, our lips meet. The kiss is immediately wild and without any restraint. Full of desire, our lips press against each other, and our tongues immediately explore each other.

All I can think about is how good all of this - how good he - feels.

Negan firmly grips my butt with both hands and dominantly pushes my pelvis closer to him. The fabric of his jeans presses against my bare skin. I feel how hard and big he already is. I can clearly feel him, right at the spot that yearns for him the most. I softly moan into the kiss.

"Damn, that's the sound I wanted to hear! I haven't been able to think of anything else since last night..." he exclaims excitedly.

Then he swiftly takes off his jacket and starts to slowly unbutton my blouse. My black lace bra is revealed. Before he kisses me again, he looks down at me.

"Fuck, look at you...you're so incredibly beautiful," he says softly.

My hands move confidently to his pants, feeling for his belt.

"Not so fast...first, I want to taste you...every damn inch of your perfect body!"

He grins at me, and I immediately do nothing but eagerly wait to see what he has in store next.

Negan slowly takes off my unbuttoned blouse and skillfully unclasps my bra. He immediately grasps my breasts firmly with his large, warm hands and plants delicate kisses on my sternum. His beard scratches against my delicate skin, giving me goosebumps. His mouth moves to my right breast, and I let my head fall back. I thoroughly enjoy the feeling of his tongue on my sensitive nipple. His hand firmly grips my left shoulder and pushes me down. Now I'm completely lying on the desk, while his kisses travel deeper and deeper.

Without hesitation, he grabs my knees and presses my legs firmly against my body. Then I feel his warm breath on my wet vulva. Automatically, I press my pelvis further towards him, and he starts kissing along my inner thighs, while I eagerly await feeling his lips on my pulsating clitoris finally.

My whole body is tense as he continues to tease me, his mouth gently returning to my thigh.

Impatiently, I slide back and forth on the desk.

He releases his firm grip from my knees and gives me a light slap on the butt.

"Damn, it's sexy how turned on you are... I could continue like this all day..." he remarks with a grin, unbuttoning his jeans shirt as his dark chest hair is revealed. I prop myself up on my forearms, looking at him expectantly.

"Okay, okay... Who can resist such a look and such a sweet pussy..." he says, leaning back between my legs to finally touch me where I need it the most.

Skillfully, his tongue wanders to my most sensitive spots, applying just the right pressure and perfect tempo.

I moan in relief and lean back again. He softly sucks on my swollen clit, and my legs start to tremble. I grab his hair and hold onto it tightly because I feel like I need that support. The orgasm hits me unexpectedly. I never thought I could reach the peak so quickly.

Negan grabs my wrists and swiftly pulls my upper body back up. Breathing heavily and utterly exhausted, I look at him, and he smiles contentedly, his lips moistened with my wetness.

"Wow, okay..." he says.

"Wow, okay..." I reply and pull him closer to kiss him.

"Now I want to fuck that perfect pussy..." he whispers in a deep voice into my ear, opening his pants with one hand. Then he briefly separates from me to open the drawer of his desk and retrieve a condom.

I watch him, and suddenly I seem to be able to think clearly again. At least, I can imagine how many times he has done this before. How many lonely, abandoned mothers he has already screwed on this desk, that he even keeps condoms in his drawer.

Without saying anything, he seems to notice my gaze very precisely and knows how to interpret it.

He grabs my chin between his index finger and thumb and turns my head decisively towards him.

"Hey, don't even think about it, okay? ...I only placed it there today, in the slight hope that you would seriously consider my nice offer..."

He lets me go to put on the condom without breaking eye contact.

My eyes wander between his dark ones, and I get lost in them.

I nod hesitantly and flinch slightly as I feel his tip pressing against my entrance.

Negan runs his thumb over my mouth. My lips feel dry and sensitive.

"Don't close your eyes now, look at me as I enter you..." he says unequivocally.

I already feel him slowly pushing deeper and deeper into me. When he is all the way in, he places his burning hot forehead against mine. His mouth is slightly open, and his breath is heavy. I enclose his lower lip with my lips. It is an incredibly intense feeling to be so full. I feel my lower abdomen contract repeatedly as he slowly starts moving inside me. It doesn't take long for his thrusts to become faster and harder. I realize he is close to coming.

"Sit on the chair, I want to be on top of you!" I say, trying to gain some control and at least once have the upper hand.

"Okay, whatever you want... really anything!" he says, breathing heavily, and sits back on the chair behind him.

He looks incredibly sexy. With those piercing eyes, his slightly swollen lips from the intense kisses, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his slim hairy chest, and his large hard penis that I immediately want inside me again.

I jump off the table and climb onto his lap. With my right hand, I grasp his pulsating cock and let him glide into me. Negan holds onto my hips, and I place my hands on his shoulders to support myself. Slowly, I begin to move, and he penetrates deeper into me.

"Damn, you're finding spots in me that I didn't even know..." I smile and then bite my lower lip in concentration. I mean it literally. I have never felt anything like this before. My movements become faster, and I feel the tension running through Negan's body.

"Let's come together..." I whisper softly to him.

"Okay, baby..." he says decisively, and his hand moves purposefully between my legs. Quickly and with quite a bit of pressure, he circles my hypersensitive clit with his thumb.

I feel like I can hardly breathe from excitement. My lower abdomen almost cramps painfully.

I manage to groan "Now..." just before another intense orgasm floods my body. But not only me, I also feel how Negan is coming intensely. Exhausted, I collapse on his lap. His arms embrace me and press me firmly against his bare chest. For a moment, all you can hear is our exhausted breathing, then he whispers softly while still deeply inside me.

"That was insane. When can we do this again?"

I grin at him contentedly. "I have the whole weekend free from the kids... so I'd be happy to do it again tomorrow..."

Then I kiss a bead of sweat off his forehead.

He pouts, "Why wait until tomorrow? ...How about tonight and then the whole night... Believe me, I want to explore a few other spots in you..."

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Three

Literally saw the orange sweater and my heart sank. Here we go.

George's hair!! I hate him.

Also literally WHY does he have to lend them his own personal recording equipment? It really is ridiculous how bad the record company treated them considering they were the fucking BEATLES.

Magic Alex! Honestly though why is half of me like "Yes! Scamming king! Take their money and RUN!"

"My Imagination" is physical cringe level.

"The rhythms in the guitars anyway." It's a callback to their earliest days when they had to say that to hustle, but I think part of them really did believe that back then, and part of Paul still does. That the four of them are all they need.

And then in response to that callback to early days to convey current not-articulable feelings, John responds with one of his own. His mini rant about how stupid it is to use three mikes and never come together and sing as a GROUP. It's like he can't bear the thought.

Paul singing his guitar and drum ideas. Apparently my sexuality is women and unhinged men. There's nothing to be done about it. Poor George literally can't get a word between all Paul's "Downownownowneernernerner" and "chuchuchutah ba Ta. Ba." And if I was a good person I'd be annoyed. But no. It's too hot.

"Corny's alright on this one though because what he's doing's corny." Be fucking nice to him. He needs you to be like you were on 909 about every single thing he does because he cares so much what you think. Of course they don't talk about that kind of thing so Paul has no idea. But look at his face!

I also like "the same old shit," George. "Don't Let Me Down" is so fucking sexy idgaf what anyone says.

But here's the other thing is that John is SO down for all of these wrong suggestions Paul's making. If they're not literally saying the same thing at the same time, it's instantly "Yes. Exactly. Yeah."

So John says "alright girls" and sounds like he's just so above Paul and George squabbling and bickering and couldn't care less except for the fact that they're annoying him. Because that's his macho front, right? But then look at his face while they're fighting, eyes darting and full of love, sorrow, and what honestly looks like fear.

Ringo stays the hell out of all of it. Good for him.

Shortly after Paul says "I can't frickin do it on camera either" John starts strumming. And soon George joins, while Paul's pacing and gesturing. And at first I was confused like "they're not being very good listeners that's not very nice" but they're trying to cover up the dialogue for Paul's sake. Trying to take away the cameras if he can't do it with them. "Forget about candy camera." It's very loving, very protective, especially from George. John, we expect this kind of thing from, when it comes to Paul. But George is literally in a fight with him and protecting him at the same time and I find it to be so beautiful.

Gosh, there's so much in this little rant though. "I always feel as though I'm tryna put you down and stop you playing *voice cracks and goes higher* but I'm not." How he looks at John when he says "and I never get any support or anything" and the "and you know it's right." I usually find the 'Paul's the mom, John's the dad' analogy reductive, but boy is it perfect here.

But really, Paul, you've got to just let George do his thing. "I can only do me, you know." George is absolutely right in this argument. He's actually very emotionally mature for being the youngest.

Ugh it's hard to leave them on this note. But I'll pick back up tomorrow

[heareriissmau]

title: what happened in kyoto? pairing: uraraka ochako x bakugo katsuki word count: 4,034 genre: fluff, comedy, a bit mystery, quirk accident synopsis: in which uravity is entangled in a dating rumor with great explosion murder god dynamight, who she apparently met secretly in kyoto. ochako doesn't remember anything, so katsuki helps her remember.

rumors. the bane of ochako's existence. well, not really. though, she does have a fair share of crazy rumors surrounding her since her first few months as a public figure. that she came from a wealthy family; absolutely bonkers. that she was the first woman to go to the moon; conspiracy theory at most but a nice try at least. that she floated mt. lady in her giant form and when she released her, it quaked the earth's core so bad it led to a tsunami.

point is rumors always had been strange.

as strange as this article shoved into her face via mina's phone in the middle of lunch break. ochako had to squint and pull herself back from the phone to focus her sight on the led screen.

DYNAVITY CONFIRMED?: PRO-HEROES DYNAMIGHT AND URAVITY SPOTTED LEAVING SAME APARTMENT IN KYOTO

her eyes squinted even further by the absurdity of it all.

"it's trending, ochako!" mina exclaims, unapologetically amused by the whole thing. the phone now in her hands, ochako slides the window to the trending page and sees a handful of words trending on twitter related to this specific article.

OCHAKO URARAKA

BAKUGO KATSUKI

URAVITY

DYNAMIGHT

COUPLE GOALS

oh. ochako's favorite singer is trending, too. did something happen-

"why were you in the same apartment together?!"

"mina, we haven't seen bakugo in three months. he's europe, remember?" ochako says matter-of-factly, further investigating updates about her favorite singer. turns out it was a pre-release announcement, which she already knew. she returns the phone. "how in the world could i possibly meet up with him? and in kyoto?"

her argument was true. a team was assigned for a project mission a few months back, led by katsuki. it was a volunteer type of project, which ochako obviously didn't sign up for. her quirk is enough to give her enough nausea, let alone taking planes to go to the other side of the world. plus, momo, tsuyu, tooru, kyouka, denki, shoto, and mezo already put their names on the roster before ochako thought about it.

last time she checked their (class turned into) agency group chat, their mission had already finished weeks ago. denki and the others insisted on having some more fun before going back to japan, so maybe there's a part of ochako that's a bit envious she didn't join.

let's track back. she has not seen bakugo and company for almost four months now, however ochako forgets the person she was talking to is mina. "i don't know? maybe you two were actually in a secret relationship we had no idea about." mina humors herself, knowing full well the rumor is stupid but insists on annoying ochako anyway.

"i would love for you to let me eat my lunch in peace."

"girl, this rumor is on rampage. what's peace anymore once you step out of this agency?"

"i'll just deny it."

"with the help of who? your boss?"

"uh? yeah?"

"ochako... bakugo is our boss."

ochako pinches the bridge of her nose, staring at her untouched bento box. "never mind then. my other boss."

then said other boss spawning inside the breakroom like this is a whole comedy skit purposefully hurting ochako's overworked brain. "europe team is coming home tonight," izuku announced to the girls with a bright smile on his face. he takes the seat across ochako to begin his lunch break.

"must be exciting to see your boyfriend after a long while, uraraka," he teased.

"we are not turning this into a bit." ochako considers clocking out immediately and floating herself into space.

"where the hell did the person get this picture from anyway?" mina zooms in the picture, observing the masked and capped heads of the rumored couple. noting that the height difference is similar to ochako's and katsuki's. "is somebody out to get you, ochako?"

ochako raked her mind for any possibility she's been in kyoto with katsuki. "have i ever been to kyoto, actually?"

izuku looks back at her and swallows the katsudon down. "don't look at me like i know where you are all the time."

"you're supposed to be my best friend in this situation."

"i am your best friend." izuku shrugs, "but whatever happens in kyoto, stays in kyoto, i guess," and casually sends mina into hysterics.

ochako misses when izuku was a shy, stupid mess around her.

⸻

her patrol ends a lot peacefully than anticipated. not that she wanted it to happen, but she was fully expecting to have reporters shoving themselves into her personal space and asking unwanted questions.

maybe the rumor wasn't as big as social media platforms made it out to be? it wasn't a bad assumption until eijiro and hanta bombarded her with an interrogation halfway through her patrol because they apparently heard about the rumors through fans?

and they resorted to asking her instead because katsuki was leaving them on seen? ochako had to be honest with them. it might be true that it was her and katsuki in that picture (because it really did look like them but that's besides the point), but they are definitely not dating.

she doesn't remember being affiliated with katsuki in any other way aside from being friends, so it couldn't be anything serious.

the image was taken ages ago, too (cleared up by a thread under that very tweet, which doesn't really help anything). only hilariously posted today for some reason. people were that bored, ochako guesses.

she shuts her locker after changing to her casual clothes. hell class agency wasn't strict with dress code so it helps to go back to a regular person after hero work, or at least what the girls demanded izuku and katsuki to implement as one of the house rules during the making of their agency.

getting ready to go back to her apartment, ochako checks her phone for updates on their group chat. it seems the europe team is back, and the girls initiated a welcome home party at mina's place. ochako now knows whose bed she'll be crashing onto for the night.

"if it isn't my rumored girlfriend."

not his. that's for sure.

ochako stumbles upon katsuki at the main hall on her way to the elevator. "what are you doing here?" she asked. it's 6pm, an hour past since she clocked out for her second to the last shift of the week.

the hall is eerily quiet with them being the only people sucking the oxygen in the entire room. she hadn't been expecting to see him again this early. as much as ochako was aware, europe team didn't need to head to the agency once touched down to japan. they're very much permitted to go straight to a three-day break before adjusting back to their usual shifts. plus, there's a party going on.

then again, katsuki wasn't a party person. leave it to eijiro to probably pop out of nowhere and drag his ass to mina's apartment. except eijiro already clocked out ages ago.

katsuki deadpans, "not even a welcome back? you wound your boyfriend, cheeks."

ochako stared at him like she's looking at a literal alien, whose head was shaped like a goddamn toe.

katsuki snorts and lifts up a hand to pinch her cheek. ochako wonders if europe air infected his brain somehow, "welcome back to japan, i guess. have tsu and tooru headed home already?" she notices he arrived at the office empty-handed. he could've gone straight to the office after dropping off his baggage at his apartment. if it seemed he wasn't here for izuku nor eijiro, what is he doing here then?

"yeah, off to pinky's." he stuffs both his hands inside the front pockets of his comfy-looking black hoodie. wait, since when did he steal her backpack and sling it over his shoulder? "you going home? let's grab dinner. i'm starving."

so, this is happening now.

they sat down in a pub, a few blocks near the office. as suggested by ochako since katsuki asked her what kind of food she wanted. mapo tofu would totally hit the spot right now, and it just so happened the guy who asked her out was craving the same thing.

she opened the conversation about the type of food they had overseas as they waited for their orders. ochako knew katsuki wasn't usually fond of small talk, but it surprised her to see him actively respond to any curiousity she had about their trip.

"y'know, if you're this curious, you should'a tagged along," he raises an eyebrow at her, while she furrows her brows and bashfully looks elsewhere. "there's always a next time."

"right."

for any average person, this will be considered as a date. not because it's a man and a woman sitting at the same booth together. no, no, no. but because, of all seats available, katsuki chose the one right next to ochako. this woman even remembers the way this man pushed the cushioned, wooden chair a bit closer to her before he sat down. she could've been hallucinating too, however, the way their shoulders always collided was enough to confirm she wasn't hallucinating.

is this a date? god, please give ochako an answer right now.

but what's gonna happen once she finds out it is a date?

"ain'tcha a bit stiff over there?" she jumps at katsuki's remark. her eyes landed on his on reflex, and she found him in a white oversized shirt that hung over his shoulders snugly. that hoodie looked good on him, dang. it's a bit hot in this pub, considering it's a public location. maybe that's what pub stands for?

she's so famished it's distracting. "you look nice."

... ochako.

seemed to be having way too much fun, katsuki snorted a laugh and turned away from her. ochako was clearly tired as she slumped in her chair and pouted at his reaction. "for someone who got off an airplane, you're awfully energetic."

"my bad." he composes himself and wipes a tear. "sorry 'bout that, cheeks.

"just missed you, is all."

...

...

"wh-"

"two orders of mapo tofu-"

ochako remembers how to breathe.

now what in the world just happened?

the waiter placed the orders on their table as ochako examined her situation. look, between friends, saying you missed them is normal. missing your friends is normal. is she friends with katsuki? yes. does she also miss katsuki? yes. but has katsuki ever been open with his emotions like this? no. has he ever said to anyone, anyone at all, that he missed them? no. was ochako the first one (at least of her knowledge) to be told by katsuki that he missed her?

yes.

alright. this has got to be a date.

he pushes a plate of mochi before her. she looks up at him. "that's yours," katsuki says, "my treat today."

'today'??????????

ochako is on a fucking date.

"thanks." she sends herself back to earth. "guess i owe you one?" and flirts? she guessed?

"sure, but i'll pick where to go next," the fucker smirks at her.

"not somewhere expensive, though. i'm saving up." this is going well.

"alright. how you feel 'bout the ramen shop across the street?"

"okay."

"then my turn after."

"have something in mind?"

"there's this garbage movie i wanna see. let's shit on it."

ochako bites her lip from smiling like an idiot, "sounds like a fun date," and slips on her words.

"'course it is. i'm fucking amazing at planning anything."

she turned to him as he gulped his glass of water. he set it down with a smirk.

"even dates."

it's been over thirty minutes and ochako finds it hard to wrap around her head that she's having dinner with katsuki and smoothly planning their next after-shift dates. no. how in the world did the conversation lead to this anyway?

has katsuki bakugo always been this smooth?

"you need to stop hanging out with kaminari," she blurts out in disbelief and she's pretty sure she's a lot pinker than usual. the man dared to laugh at her.

"i take it's working."

no.

what's working?

what's going on?!

what the hell is this tension brewing between them right now?

ochako spiralled over dinner, until she remembered the elephant in the room. her eyes widened after recalling whatever happened at lunch break. katsuki was so good at flirting that it slipped her mind that these two have a dating rumor and the next thing he does after seeing her is flirt with her?!

all this was happening way too organically!

"kyoto?!" she shouts, grabbing his shoulder for dear life. "have i ever been to kyoto?"

i nEvEr BeEn To OoVoO JaVeR- WHAT A STUPID QUESTION, OCHAKO!

"i'm not your stalker, cheeks. how in hell would i know all the places you've been?" the woman inwardly smacks herself in the face, and she does not like how amused her literal boss looked.

oh, my god. this is also her boss. jesus fucking chr-

"why?" ochako wished he would keep his mouth shut for a hot minute and let her think. "wanna go there, again?"

her eyes widened the size of saucers at his question. the bowl of mapo tofu in front of her now forgotten. "you know something?"

katsuki blinked. ochako sputtered as he turned his whole body in her direction. he looked so serious for her liking that she wanted to turn back time to three minutes ago when they were play-flirting.

"i'm sorry. it's just the picture in the post looked real and mina and deku sounded so sure it was us on there. also, deku was cryptic all of a sudden. i really have no idea if i ever been to kyoto. let alone being there with you. you know, because i don't think we hang out that often? just the two of us? this is the first time i hung out with you actually-"

she feels a gentle squeeze on her right hand over the table and sees it's katsuki's hand. "you're blabbering like a machine gun. calm down."

being told to calm down by katsuki bakugo sure is something.

"i had a dream like this before." ochako just lets herself blabber at this point.

"what?" he lets go of her hand.

"you being nice to me."

katsuki had to laugh. "you fucking dream 'bout me?"

ochako shifts in her seat and goes back to her food. she needs that mochi now. "except you're nice to me. it's hard to think it's actually you, or it being a dream since it sounds nightmare-ish."

he snorts and settles his arm around her chair behind her. she notices he already finished eating. ugh, men. "harsh. you should be aware of how much i tolerate you, cheeks.

"it's obvious how sweet i am to you."

ochako choked on her food, which merits a laugh from katsuki. it's literally happening again. there should be something that shifted in europe. there has to be. was he lobotomized?

"can we go back to kyoto, please?"

"pleading now? that's cute, but i just got out of a plane. can't afford another god-forsaken trip."

"that's not what i meant!"

katsuki roars in laughter much to her embarrassment. the pair have now caught the attention of the other patrons of the pub, recognizing the two heroes. hearing various whispers made ochako uncomfortable and had the whim to take her mochi to-go while forcing katsuki to get the bill already.

it would've been an actual nightmare if reporters went and ambushed them.

so here they were. aimlessly walking down the pavement, side-by-side. so close they might as well hold hands. perhaps not aimlessly as ochako notices this is the way to her apartment. he's walking her home.

"lemme just get it outta the way," katsuki begins. ochako listens.

"ashido posted that picture."

"a-"

"she's the one that took it, too."

ochako was beyond baffled but let him continue. it still didn't explain what happened before, during, and after that photo, but she's sure gonna get mina for whatever this was.

"anyway, listen to what i'm about to say. carefully." katsuki stops in his tracks and avoids her eyes, rubbing the back of his neck. "i ain't gonna repeat all this so your loss if you don't pay attention." ochako could've been hallucinating but she saw the way his ears tinted in red underneath the streetlights. katsuki's blushing.

"our agency went to kyoto for all might's birthday. where'd we get the time to do all that? i don't fucking know," he huffs. "i confessed to you that night we left all might's apartment together.

"how we ended up alone together was kirishima and ashido's 'slick ass' plan. that's how pinky ended up taking a photo of us together. i wasn't plotting to confess to you that night, fyi. it happened anyway." katsuki takes a second to check on ochako's reaction. to put it positively, she's short-circuiting.

that's enough confirmation that he had her full attention. "if you're wonderin' if those two idiots know i confessed to you, they do. izuku, too. for some idiotic reason." her own best friend knew. noted. "the reason you don't remember is you got hit by a kid with the most fucked up quirk i could not make up.

"a selective memory loss quirk."

ochako's fingers grazed through her hair and pulled it from the scalp. there was absolutely no way all of this was true. then again, katsuki is anything but a liar. ochako was actually thankful she got this bomb of information from him. if it were anyone else, she wouldn't believe all of this.

"anything that happened that day? wiped from your brain. even those times we planned anything for all might's birthday."

that's not important anymore. "who was the kid?"

"what?"

"did you find the kid?"

"yea?"

"can this be reversed?" ochako wanted to wipe the kid from the face of the earth but that would mean contrasting everything she fought for in the war during their first year.

"nah," katsuki gently takes her hands off her scalp and smooths her hair. "the kid's a spoiled brat. his parents didn't sign the waiver to reverse his quirk on you so you're stuck not knowing."

"but did i ever give you an answer?" ochako was almost pleading.

a corner of his lips tugged upwards. "no. you didn't."

now ochako hates herself.

"you avoided me the rest of the night."

oh god.

"so bad that you collided with that kid in the hallway and you made the brat incredibly fucking upset, he used his quirk on you. then you were unconscious until the ride back here."

ochako wants to die. "none of you helped me remember?"

"y'think i want to relive and explain to you the most vulnerable moment in my life the following days it happened? i think fucking not!" katsuki was beet red. "do you have any idea how awfully embarrassing that was? confessed, didn't get an answer, got fucking avoided, and cockblocked by a stupid little 8-year-old. all in one night."

ochako realizes something. "is that the reason why you suddenly avoided me for a whole month?" all that and he reverted back to normal around her.

for about a week.

"yea, then i got izuku's help organize the mission on europe because i needed to be away from you."

tears welled in her eyes. "i'm sorry, bakugo."

"it's not your fault, uraraka. it's the situation i hated." he lifts a hand to wipe a tear that escaped down her cheek. he pinches her. "still couldn't stand to look at you without getting mad.

"doesn't change the fact how i missed you a fuckton. i had to be in fucking paris of all places, with that dumbass kaminari makin' smooching noises with his dumbass girlfriend."

ochako was finally smiling. "did you ask mina to post that picture?"

"hell no. that nosy bitch is always up on my business. she demanded i make a move on you yet couldn't wait before i land on japan."

"that sucks. i wanted a private relationship, too."

katsuki smirks a-fucking-gain and leans closer. "what's that supposed to mean?"

fight back, ochako. fight back. "wait, if mina hadn't done all that, would you have never told me anything?" she changes the subject, inching back to keep a platonic distance for now.

she watches him heave out a sigh. "no idea, do I still wanna inform you how much i wanna gobble you up whenever i see you? dunno." maybe that was too much information. then again, this whole conversation had been a surge of stark mad info everyone but ochako knew about.

"i'm not asking for a response," katsuki notices her uneasiness. "i get this is a lot to take in. and you know what? i ain't gonna risk another dumbass accident happening to you.

"just know how much you mean to me."

somehow, the mere fact that katsuki bakugo has been in love with her this entire time and, quite frankly, fumbled hard after confessing might be the most mind-boggling fact of the night.

they shared the silence that engulfed them. ochako wasn't sure what to say. this was the first confession she ever experienced in her life. was he even confessing? was he just letting her know? will she avoid him again after this? was the way he flirted with her earlier did the trick somehow? and then it hit her.

ochako tilts her head, "aren't you supposed to be my boss?" katsuki raises an eyebrow at her sudden question. "yea?"

"this is a weird power dynamic, mr. bakugo."

and this is a weird way to flirt.

"we've been long-time friends before i became your boss, cheeks. the hell are you talkin' about?" ochako giggles and waves a hand at him, before gesturing at him to continue their walk back. "you into stuff like that? didn't know you were kinky, damn."

she hits him.

and slides her hand down to his, slipping her fingers between the gaps of his and keeping her pinky hover. she hopes katsuki can't hear how her heart thumped up her throat from the nerves. "i still have a lot of questions."

he gives her hand a squeeze. "i'll answer 'em."

maybe not from the nerves. she huffs, remembering the goddamn elephant in the sidewalk. "and we need to do something about the rumor mina started." she sees katsuki giving her a look from her peripherals. "you're courting me, okay! i didn't answer yet. plus, i did say i wanna keep my private life quiet.

"but i am interested in you. do i feel the same before i had my memories wiped? i'm not sure. i can't remember," she laughs. "i did miss talking to you when you started avoiding me, and i missed your presence even more when you guys left. so i'm really happy you stopped by the office tonight."

she turns to him with the brightest smile that rivaled the sun and how it reflected it's light at the stars.

"i missed you too, bakugo."

"aw, fuck," katsuki manages as he melts down to a squat on the asphalt, covering his face with one hand with the other still squeezing in ochako's grasp.

"wh- what's wrong?!"

"you're so fucking cute." his voice muffled inside his palm. a tint of red spread all over his face down to his neck and it's all ochako's fault.

her smile widens, "c'mon, get up! i still have work tomorrow." the sky has already gotten pretty dark. it must be so late.

"no. i'll call in sick for you tomorrow." he rises up to his feet and drags her down the street. "lemme intrude your apartment for the night, 'kay?" he looks back at her with a mysterious glint on his eyes and ochako did not like it.

"hUh?!" she pulls back. "no! we're not doing that! and don't just decide my sick leaves on your own!"

"cheeks, i just wanted to squeeze you in my arms. why are you resisting so much?"

she stares at him.

he smirks at her

she frowns.

"pervert."

"FUCK OFF!"

katsuki did nothing more than squeeze ochako inside his arms in her bed that night.

[can-i-see-your-passport-please]

ASKING YOU ABOUT YOUR STANLEY PARABLE/HLVRAI CROSSOVER. ELABORATE PLEASE??

more under the cut :3

So the basic concept goeth thusly:

Post HLVRAI canon, Gordon ends up in the Parable somehow. Stanley immediately mentally adopts him, while the Narrator is like "Oh we can ABSOLUTELY NOT have GORDON FREEMAN here" (nod to tsp originally being a hl2 mod!) and basically tries to boot Gordon out the Parable. He resets, and now Benrey is here.

So already not fun for the Narrator (though much fun for stanley, who loves seeing the narrator distressed because stanley is a bastard). Wrangling Stanley is already a nightmare, and now he has two other guys, one of which is an alien who can just noclip, which is very frustrating.

However, there's another twist to this: the role of narrator keeps being shuffled around. Sometimes, the Narrator is not the narrator, it's instead Gordon. Sometimes it's Benrey. Sometimes Stanley. Sometimes there's one player and the other three are narrators, and sometimes two of them are narrators and the other two are players.

So basically: we have Gordon (argumentative as shit), Benrey (benrey), Stanley (very glad to be talking to someone aside from the british man), and the Narrator (his phucking story)

I'll explain the symbolism I put in their narrator designs. So:

The Narrator is Stanley's shadow. That shadow can stretch and grow, but at the end of the day, he's tied to Stanley. He literally cannot do anything without him- when Stanley stops moving (eg: not stanley ending), the Narrator can do nothing.

Stanley's narrator form is inspired by one of my favorite interpretations of Stanley- one where he didn't really use ASL or writing or anything, but instead communicated through drawings. So while Stanley has no visible form, he's present through little drawings.

Gordon's design is far simpler in my mind- his arc in this is realizing he's not fully human either, he's an AI who was completely shaped by the player. So when he's the narrator, his visible form is confined to screens. This also ties into a lot of themes of control.

Benrey's entire body shifts colors in accordance with his emotions, specifically Sweet Voice colors. The exception is the spot of pink on his chest, the hearts on his face, and his eyes. His chest glows pink always, as do the hearts on his face (showing that even though he is a fucking nightmare, at his core is love. Benrey loves, and he wants to be loved). His eyes don't shift color with his body, but they change with his emotions as well- blue when he's calmer/happier, yellow when he's stressed out. This is true even when he's not in Narrator form.

Benrey's narrator form is a very intentional parallel to the Narrator's. The Narrator is a shadow, and Benrey's literally glowing bright light. The Narrator's mouth can be seen, Benrey's can't. The Narrator is literally tied to Stanley, but Benrey's not tied to anyone. (To make the symbolism there blatant: the Narrator really wants to have control, which paradoxically leads him to have less control. Meanwhile Benrey doesn't care how much control he has, which paradoxically leads him to having more.)

Additionally: while everyone can be pulled out of their narrator forms into their normal forms, they can't do it on their own, it has to be their (for lack of a better term) game partner. Gordon is the only one who can get Benrey into his normal form. Stanley is the only one who can get the Narrator into his normal form. Vice versa.

So: that's the general stuff, and the Narrator designs. I have written down in Discord what I think their arcs would be, and how they all parallel each other. Gordon-Narrator and Stanley-Benrey are the biggest parallels, but Stanley and Gordon parallel each other as well (same with Benrey and the Narrator). I'll explain if asked and welcome ideas :3 But first I'm gonna pass the fuck out it's 18 FUCKING DEGREES FARENHEIT WHEN DID IT GET SO COLD

Anyway. Take this exchange I wrote when I first came up with the idea of this AU that's basically a script of how I thought I would write this (I didn't have it be post-canon beforehand, and I really should've had Gordon actually talk more, but I got enraptured by writing the Narrator he was so fun to write but also so anxiety inducing but also I am cringe yet I am free)

[in-g-major]

ATLA Unpacked: Kataang is Reactive, not Constructive (Part 1)

In my last rewatch of ATLA, I came to a conclusion about something that's bothered me since I first watched the finale in 2008. After *the kiss* which closes out the entire show, I've been of the opinion that Kataang was an absolute failure, on multiple levels. Over the years I've held that position through multiple rewatches and the perspectives of many other intelligent, passionate fans. However, why it fails is something I've thought more deeply about over the years. There are the implications of a romance with a very lopsided balance of emotional labor, and issues of one party's consent (Katara's) being violated without an apology. Those are serious problems and valid criticisms, but here I'm going to be examining how Kataang fails because of its position within ATLA's story. As a disclaimer, I am not invoking Zutara in this analysis. For most of my time as an ATLA fan I abstained from the shipping wars beyond an occasional comment, and I only became pro-Zutara within the last year after taking on the responsibility of writing about these characters again. Alright, here goes! Reactive vs Constructive? When I say Kataang is a reactive force, I mean that it disturbs the flow and direction of the narrative (the implicit and explicit messages a story is projecting to the audience) by contradicting and clashing with other things we're presented with. A constructive force, on the other hand, is something which shapes the narrative towards an internally sound and satisfying conclusion. To explain what I mean, I'll be going through the show in episode order. No Kataang in sight yet (B1:E1 - B1:E13) A commonly cited argument in favor of Kataang is that it was part of ATLA from the beginning and the show was building towards it all along. This argument doesn't hold up simply because of how many episodes go by before there are any implications of romantic interest between Aang and Katara. The closest thing to romantic subtext is the way Katara appears to Aang after she frees him from the iceberg. (B1:E1)

By itself this doesn't suggest anything particularly romantic, especially since Katara is the first person Aang sees after a very traumatic experience. Later on he tells Appa "I liked her too" (B1:E2), but that's pretty nonspecific. After this we get exactly zero text or subtext until we're over two-thirds of the way into Book 1. Now a romance between two characters doesn't have to be developed from the very beginning of the story to make sense. However, things get messier for Kataang from here, so hold on tight. The Dashing, Dark-Haired Boys in Katara's life (B1:E6 - B1:E10) In my last rewatch I really took notice of how we see Katara's dynamics with no less than THREE dark-haired boys her age or older in the span of five episodes. First, there's Haru (B1:E6), with whom she builds a very sweet friendship that has some romantic possibilities. They bond over the struggles of losing their parents to the Fire Nation, and he's the first person who empathizes with her feelings about the death of her mother.

Katara: I lost my mother in a Fire Nation raid. This necklace is all I have left of her. Haru: It's not enough, is it? Katara: No. (Disclaimer: Harutara was my OG ATLA ship) Next, there's Zuko (B1:E9), at this point her enemy and the one who finds her mother's necklace after she loses it at the end of B1:E6. Their parallels so far have revolved around the longing they project onto Aang and learning to master their elements. Here, in their first one-on-one interaction, a further connection is established through Katara's mother's necklace. Exactly why this is significant for Zuko isn't clear yet, but it pays off wonderfully later on.

Zuko: Tell me where [Aang] is, and I won't hurt you or your brother. Katara: Go jump in the river! Zuko: Try to understand. I need to capture him to restore something I've lost: my honor. Perhaps in exchange, I can restore something you've lost. (That first image is the perfect snapshot of how hilariously awkward this exchange actually is. Zuko's only cool when he's not trying to be) Finally, there's Jet (B1:E10), Katara's first crush. She's wooed by his good looks and guerilla tactics against the Fire Nation, then spends most of the episode smitten with him. Jet empathizes with her mother's death when she brings it up, but he also tricks her into doing something she would never have agreed to with full knowledge of his plans. When she confronts him about it, he tries manipulating her with what she told him about her mother, and she truly turns on him when she thinks he's killed Sokka. It's the first time Katara has had her trust violated, and it's a painful experience.

Katara: Jet, why? Jet: Katara, you would too if you just stopped to think. Think about what the Fire Nation did to your mother. We can't let them do that to anyone else ever again. Katara: This isn't the answer! Jet: I want you to understand me, Katara. I thought your brother would understand, but... Katara: Where's Sokka?... I can't believe I trusted you. You lied to me! You're sick, and I trusted you!

(Just putting those images together had me slightly teary. Poor Katara.) What these character dynamics have in common is that they're all constructive. They contribute to Katara's story without contradicting each other. Her feelings and agency are clearly emphasized, and all three boys exist as their own independent characters while simultaneously being part of her journey. Keep that in mind as we venture into our first real Kataang episode. Related Meta & Additional Reading - Katara's Romantic Agency by starlight-bread-blog

[aeithalian]

brought to you by walker scobell's correct opinions

okay so this is super unhinged but I've held this opinion for a long time and I was reminded of it when Walker Scobell adressed it in an interview and I need to yell it from the rooftops - Percy Jackson would absolutely kick ass in a fight against Harry Potter. And I say this as a lifelong fan of both series (who obviously knows which author is better).

But it's more nuanced than that. Because apparently I can't be normal about things.

Here's the thing: Percy and Harry both serve completely different purposes as the protagonists of their respective plots. Because Percy's special. Harry's not, at least in the ways that matter. Hence, Percy would absolutely kick ass.

Allow me to explain. We're in the great position here of both stories being set in the "main character has to go learn how to harness their power" archetype for both characters, (Percy at Camp Half-Blood and Harry at Hogwarts) so luckily, this also gives us a pretty good idea of how skilled they are in comparison to their peers.

Percy, over the span of the series, and even in the first book alone, excels above his peers. He's the child of the second most powerful god in the pantheon, he's given a prophecy and a quest almost immediately upon arriving at camp (a privilege other campers have to wait years for), and at the point we've reached in the canon books, is one of the most powerful demigods ever. Like, his power level is compared to that of a minor god, he's a respected leader, and he beat the god of war in single combat at age 12 based on (mostly) skill alone.

But Harry, in comparison to his peers? Painfully average in most regards. Every single life-threatening situation he was in throughout the entire series required some fluke of nature/magic for him to get out alive. As a baby? Only survived by some ancient magical loophole. Book 1? Use of aforementioned magical loophole. Book 2? Sure, he saved the day but he also almost died, but didn't because Dumbledore sent... a bird. Book 3? Harry's mastery of the Patronus charm is one of maybe three exceptions to this rule in the entire series. Books 4, 5, and 7? Magic loophole!!!! And let's be real - Dumbledore saved Harry's ass multiple times in the book 6 climax, but I'll let the bygones be bygones and not question Dumbledore's methods. My point being: Harry sucks at most things. But, you know, at least he's self-aware about it.

Now before anybody comes screaming to me, I know that Harry's not dumb as a rock, or anything. Yes, he's good at DADA, I am aware, thank you. But let's be real - if the aforementioned magical loophole didn't exist, Harry would not have survived a good 80% of his altercations in the series, considering the aforementioned magical loophole literally only works against one person. To be real, he also wouldn't be in those life-threatening altercations to begin with.

FURTHERMORE. They both fall into the "Chosen One" archetype, right? But here's the thing: Percy is powerful in his own right, and being the chosen one isn't what makes him powerful. Harry, on the other hand, is powerful because he's the chosen one, because of all the mysticism built around an arguably average person of middling talent. He's only special because of the whole "[Voldemort] will mark him as his equal" thing from the prophecy.

Even if you assume that an average demigod and an average wizard hold about the same power levels (which, honestly, I don't think you can say, but for the sake of the argument, that's what we're going to go with), the pure fact of the matter is that Percy is like a Dumbledore-level demigod, and Harry is a Michael Yew-level wizard. (Who is Michael Yew, you may ask? To which I say: exactly.)

Are you catching my drift? Percy kicks ass against Harry because he's more powerful. It's as simple as that.

But allow me to extrapolate further, because I fear that some may take this to mean that Harry is a bad protagonist. He's not, he just serves a different narrative purpose as a character. Imagine if you were to swap Percy and Harry into each others' stories:

Harry would probably die in the first PJO book. As an untrained wizard with at most, one year at Hogwarts under his belt, he'd probably die in the initial fight against the Minotaur. Done deal. Sure, you could take it a step further and assume that he does carry good problem-solving skills in moments of high stress, so maybe he could have made it out of that fight alive, but he's probably toast from that moment on. My main point is that Percy's skills that get him through his first quest are inherent. He doesn't necessarily have to practice to have heightened battle senses, water powers, and sensitivity to the Mist, all things that helped him survive. Harry simply does not have those things, and as a wizard of about the same age, doesn't have the skill set to match those powers with his own magical abilities. And by the end of the series, assuming Harry doesn't die immediately, the last book is one long, big battle, and Harry's one-on-one combat skills aren't necessarily bad, but if I have a hard time remembering how many times Harry was in a duel against a fully trained wizard and won in his own right, what makes you think he could beat ultra-powerful Titans like Percy did?

As for Percy - Put him in the climax moment of the first HP book against Quirrell. Harry survived that moment by using the aforementioned magical loophole, but Percy would have probably chopped Quirrell's head off within the first five minutes. No biggie. No moment in the first three books comes to mind as a situation that would have given Percy a ton of trouble at around the same age. And the fact that I think that Percy would definitely give Voldemort a run for his money in a one-on-one duel in the second half of the series should really say something.

Again, that's not to say that Harry's a bad protagonist. I think that their respective power levels serve their respective plots well! Imagine how boring the PJO series would be if Percy wasn't powerful enough to go head-to-head with Titans, or how boring the HP series would be if Harry had no problems beating Voldemort ever.

It's also interesting when you consider the implications of what being the Chosen One means in their respective universes. Percy knows he's the Chosen One, and he's actually more offended when Rachel suggests that he's not the hero of the prophecy, rather Luke is. Harry, on the other hand, has a hard time believing he's the Chosen One, because he knows just how generally unremarkable he is aside from the fact that he keeps surviving against all odds. Percy is the typical Chosen One, Harry is not.

And that gets even more interesting when you consider how they interact with their peers once their "Chosen One status" becomes common knowledge. Percy, who spends most of his time on quests, doesn't interact with his peers much on-page (meaning we don't see him go through everyday life like we see in the HP series), but that aside, he's generally well-respected. People are in awe of him. People know who he is, and have decided that he is deserving of his claims to fame and power. Harry, on the other hand, is generally not respected to the same degree, and people have a hard time believing him when he tells them about his close calls with death. Adults, specifically, find his stories unbelievable, because to them, he's untrained and not significantly powerful. And you know what? They're completely right.

I tend to also see that manifest a lot in their personalities. Percy, as the Chosen One, tends to struggle a lot with the fact that there are a lot of expectations placed upon him. People come to him for help all the time, and the gods tend to take him for granted, so he ends up with this very 'leave me alone let me live my life in peace' kind of thing going on. Harry, on the other hand, struggles in the different way of, as I said before, never being believed, and while he also struggles a lot with expectations, has this issue that he doesn't, nor will he ever, live up to them because that's not who he is (insert rant here about why Harry becoming an Auror was so out of character, and why he should have become the DADA professor instead, kindly fu JKR). Harry isn't some overpowered godling, he's just some random kid, placed well enough in society that Voldemort took an unhealthy interest in him.

I'm getting off track here. But my point stands: while both Percy and Harry serve the Chosen One protagonist archetype, they are inherently different characters and serve different purposes. Harry is atypical, and doesn't succeed in his own rights as much as you'd predict from a YA protagonist, regardless of the fact that he's got an über-powerful failsafe button. Percy, on the other hand, is a much more cliche example of a main character, being overpowered and wildly successful with barebones training.

Now, this is not me saying that PJO is a cliche YA story. I would never say that, because Rick Riordan is a masterful writer who still incorporates Percy's struggles as a person into a world where he's considered extremely powerful (meaning he's not a Mary Sue). That, and the fact that Percy isn't actually the 'hero of the prophecy', but the main villain is, is what should disprove that statement in a split second.

All is is basically saying that, while Percy would absolutely whoop ass against Harry, that does not mean that Harry is a bad character. Harry is, I think, the only kind of character that could fit well enough in the HP series for it to be considered a fulfilling story (insert rant here about how the final fight in movie 8 is stupid and Harry could have never held his own in a duel against Voldemort for that long, and completely missed the point of the finale of book 7 and it's been pissing me off for years).

Anyways, yeah, point made, come yell at me if you think I'm wrong, but I don't think I'm wrong.

More (mostly TOA) rants here if you want them.

[verdemoun]

How would Dutch react to seeing Arthur and/or John again? How would that interaction go and is it before or after he realizes he was in the wrong? (if he ever does at all)

I'll focus on Arthur since i have another ask waiting for John!

Arthur was very conflicted about seeing Dutch, because, well, he missed Dutch. Right to the end he believed Dutch could be better, that Dutch could save himself and become the old Dutch again. He was genuinely the one who struggled the most with the fact Dutch didn't.

He did, however, wait until Hosea visited Dutch. He needed to hear it from Hosea, maybe even in a way get Hosea's permission, before he would let himself go see Dutch.

They'd both changed so much. Arthur is 48, he's older than Dutch was the last time he saw Dutch, and Dutch has aged so much, and Arthur is happy and enjoying his life and doesn't have the unspoken haggardness of suffering everyday of his life about him anymore, and Dutch, well, he's old, but he looks like old Dutch. The way he carries himself is like the old Dutch, the pre-Blackwater Dutch. His eyes are sparkling again, like Horseshoe Overlook, like when they still believed the gang could be okay again. And it's good to see him.

Still awkward as hell. Neither one knows exactly what to say? 'Hey, haven't seen you since you left me to die alone on a mountainside.' 'You've gained weight. Not having TB looks good on you.'

Instead it's very, very basic small talk. 'Good to see you. How have you been?' 'Alright, I guess. You?' 'Yeah, good, s'pose'.

There's only three guarantees in life: death, taxes, and Dutch van der Linde can read Arthur Morgan like a book. It hardly takes any prompting, just that stern, almost affectionate 'Ar-thur' and he is rambling. He's filling Dutch in on his entire life the past 12 years. Having his own place, his erratic studies and actually learning about the world beyond surviving, Charles (which Dutch is delightedly amused by because honestly who didn't see it), Isaac, Arthur absolutely ranting to Dutch about how much of a handful Isaac is even at 21.

Dutch just cackling, immediately going into stories about how much of a handful Arthur was at 21. The damned fish market story again, how he was committing bank robberies at 21 and he was so nervous he threw up before the first bank robbery he taken on, and how if anything his behavior became worse after they picked up John and the stupid arguments and brawls the two had where an even older Arthur acted as immature as John did.

As much as Arthur laughs and cringes at how Dutch retells his younger antics, there is that silent assurance that maybe he isn't doing the world's worst job as '1899 father attempting to raise stubborn self-righteous twat of a son in modern era'.

But more importantly, there's the silent realization how easily Dutch remembers, how effortlessly the stories come falling out with the same charisma and charm as he's told them a dozen times before - Dutch remembered him. Dutch still thought about him after 1899. Dutch was still holding onto the good days as much as Arthur did. And it feels a little bit like love.

Of course, when asked about it later, Arthur is very dismissive 'yeah Dutch was just Dutch. not sure on the grey hair'. But he becomes one of the more regular visitors because he did miss Dutch over those 12 years. And they might not be the emotional sort to talk about feelings but he's certain Dutch missed him too.