#the more I stare at this the more I want to redo everything but I'm releasing it into the wild bc I'm gonna go crazy if I look at it longer

[putitintospeeddrive]

It was the best of times, the worst of crimes

getaway car - taylor swift + brocedes

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (7) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: i literally can't take myself seriously with this concept LOL where have my morals gone? lmk if anyone remembers classic kimi fics where smut was nonexistent HAUWHAUA 😭

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

jungkook has been looking over revisions for the past three hours. the promotion was more exciting when he worked for it... now, he feels way too overworked and honestly? for what?

the truth is, he only chased after the promotion because he knew it would be something you'd be proud of him for doing. you've always been the type to chase after things greater than yourself and wished for jungkook to do the same. well, this is it. this is jungkook doing just that for you. he hopes you can see it. he hopes you know it.

currently, he feels like his eyeballs might roll out of his head. he's bored and might lose his mind if he goes through one more slide (he has at least 200 slides left). irritated, he pushes away from his desk and stands up.

he stretches, trying to wake himself up a little more. then, he stares at the view from his office window.

the city is beautiful but he would much rather be looking at you.

suddenly, as if the angels heard him, his phone rings.

it's you.

he picks up immediately.

"hello?"

he doesn't know why, but he feels nervous. you never call. you always text or facetime... a call? what the fuck could be going on?

"hi... are you busy?" you ask, a little quiet. you sound tired.

he raises an eyebrow. "uhh... what's up? everything okay?"

a small laugh escapes your lips. "yeah. why? do i sound—"

"a little sad," he cuts you off, concerned. "___, what's wrong?"

you stay silent for a moment.

"nothing.”

he doesn’t believe you until he hears you sigh in relief.

continuing, you vent; "i just... i think i'm just stressed. i don't know. i wanted a break and suddenly i picked up my phone and called you. s-sorry. i... you're probably busy with the new promotion and—"

"i'm not that busy—"

like perfect timing, jungkook's office line interrupts. "mr. jeon, your 2pm meeting is being pushed back so you have time for lunch today."

jungkook clears his throat and thanks his assistant.

"new assistant?" you ask, letting curiosity get the best of you. "she pretty?"

"she's fired if you want."

"shut up!" you laugh. "i could care less—"

"oh, you care..." jungkook smirks. "hey, i'm glad you called. you can always call. i'm here for you when you need.. i don't want you to think anything else."

"okay.." is all you say.

jungkook takes a deep breath in. "did you eat today?"

"i ate. did you?"

"been busy—"

"you said you weren't busy!"

"hey, i'm not the lawyer!"

"still... i... listen, i'll let you go. i should probably get back to work or something—"

jungkook panics. "i'm cancelling my 2pm."

"what?"

"y-yeah... i'm looking at their revisions and i haven't even gotten through half of it. it's also shit so i'm just gonna tell them to redo everything. will i be the most hated boss? we'll find out."

on the other end of the line, you snicker.

"you can't blow off work."

"i can."

".... c-can i confess something?"

jungkook gulps, feeling sick to his stomach.

"what?"

you fidget with your fingers, unsure if you should continue.

"honey, what is it?" jungkook asks softly. "whatever it is... i'm here for you. you know that."

"i... uhm... i called because i was stressed..."

"... yeah?"

"jungkook," you pause, biting your bottom lip. is it too much to say this? at the same time... it's not like he has ever denied you anything. you might as well... "i need to relieve some stress. like, i need to focus on something that isn't work or our son. you know what i mean? everything is fine, honest! i just... i want to be focused on something and be present. i feel like i've been mindless for a hot minute... i just... look, if you're going home... is it okay if i come over? can i suck your dick or something?"

jungkook rushes home.

he changes his bedsheets and runs a quick shower. it's not like he needed to put in this much effort (it's literally the bare minimum) but it's the first time in a long time where you needed him. having sex and initiating was more so 50/50; but this was different. you need him.

he's your relief.

and also... it's a little funny, is it not? it's only 2pm on a random wednesday and you need him.

when you arrive, jungkook takes a few deep breaths before opening the door. his studio apartment is definitely smaller than your place (aka the place you two shared for 4 years), but it's okay. it's only temporary. he knows in his heart that he'll be back home with you in no time. this afternoon proves exactly that...

if today you need him for his body and tomorrow you need his heart; he'd give it.

"wow... i hate this already." you take a minute to laugh at yourself. you feel so beyond stupid and embarrassed... it's practically indescribable. though you and jungkook fool around and have always had an active sex life... right now felt different. right now felt... weird? but if it was ever going to feel weird; at least it's with him.

before you even step foot inside his place, you're turning your heel. "you know what? i should... uhm, this was stupid. sorry—"

jungkook grabs your arm and pulls you inside.

you stay still as he leans towards you face. he pokes your cheek and chuckles. "come on, honey. i said i'd be here for you. let me be here for you."

squinting at him, you move his finger off your face. "you just want your dick sucked."

"you offered," he snorts. "so pull through."

in hindsight, jungkook should've been more prepared than this.

but he isn't.

he fights to urge to spill himself all over your pretty hands every time you pump his cock. it's toe-curling the way you drag your wrist up and down. he throws his head back so much, it's beginning to get sore. leaving him with no option but to fucking watch you give him the most life changing blowjob of his life.

"are you okay?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. "you look stressed."

"i am stressed."

"what? why—"

"no! f-fuck, don't stop." he growls, not liking the way you suddenly stop. you purse your lips, catching on that he just feels edged out.

already?

... okay.

you continue to pump him, gripping on the base of his cock and moving your way up. his skin is so soft yet he's so hard. like... so fucking hard you know for a fact you don't want to fuck him right now. it'd hurt too much.

"you're so hard already," you utter under your breath. "and i swear to god, it's like your dick gets bigger every time i see it."

"i love you more every time i see you that's why."

"damn," you hiss. "can you... just let me do this? i wanna focus on... wanna focus on—"

"shut up."

you laugh, reaching up to place a kiss on his lips. he leans forward, gladly meeting your lips. when you pull away, you plop yourself in a more exact position in front of him. jungkook feels his balls get heavy as you kneel, part his legs, and begin to tie your hair up.

he helps you.

gathering your hair, you give him your hair tie. he quickly ties your hair before leaning back and trying to catch one last good breath.

he fails.

his breath hitches as you kiss his tip.

"w-wait—"

you don't.

you lick his length, dragging your tongue down to his base. there, you suck his balls and use your hands to pump. jungkook gulps, watching you do this. he doesn't know what to do. usually, he's really into it but there's something different about right now.

right now, he's in a trance.

he's mesmorized at how much your touch changes all the chemistry in his body. saying you send electricity throughout his body is an understatement. butterflies don't mean a damn thing either. it's captivating and everything but sweet.

it feels twisted in his stomach. it feels like he's on the edge on a cliff and the only way he can ease his fear is by jumping off.

he has to give in and let his body react to you.

he has to let you have this and from the looks of it (and feel of it); you've giving him everything you've got.

just then, you snap jungkook out of his thoughts as you attempt to take him inside your mouth. you make an effort to look up, eyes teary from holding in your gag. he's so big. there's no other way to explain it and there's no way you're going to stop thinking it.

he's so fucking big.

like what other choice do you have but to slobber all over it? you just have to. not to mention, he always tastes good. his cum, yes, but just his dick in general... is that weird? who cares.

jungkook's dick barely fits in your mouth. but you try to make it work. you want him—all of him. as you bob your head, easing your way to his full length, jungkook lets out a loud moan.

you look up and see his chest rising and falling. his abdomen twitches and so does his dick. you like the way he looks right now. as you suck, his breathing intensifies. soon, he's panting and you're near gagging.

you take a moment to catch your breath.

pulling away, your hands continue the show. jungkook brings his attention back to your hands and watches as the tip of his cock turns angry. god, it's getting bigger?

you practically drool.

jungkook leans over and wipes the access saliva around your lips. then, he shoves his thumb into your mouth. happily, you suck on it. bobbing your head, shutting your eyes, and letting out little moans; jungkook feels like he's losing his mind.

you look so fucking pretty.

when he takes his thumb out, you dive back to his dick. this time, he holds you by the back of your neck and guides you through it. jungkook pushes your head slowly but surely. then, he stops moving it. he keeps it in place as he lifts his hips and rolls them.

before you know it, he's fucking your mouth.

rolling your eyes back, jungkook moans at the sight. of course you're taking it like a slut. of course you're enjoying it too.

"you like this, huh? you like having your face fucked?" jungkook hisses in between breathy pants.

you gag in response.

jungkook pulls his dick out and slaps your mouth with it. his veiny member feels so good against your lips. you want it back in your mouth.

"answer me."

"mhmm," you whimper. "i like it so much. put it back in—mmhph—"

"fuck yes," he shoves his cock back into your mouth. "so pretty, honey. the absolute prettiest."

suddenly, he lets you go. it's then that you take the liberty to give it everything you've got.

you twirl your tongue around his tip, suck his length in every way possible. your hands pump to compliment your oral skills and jungkook can't help but think he's the luckiest man on earth.

then, it happens.

you feel his dick twitch. he instantly thrusts himself more aggressively to chase the climax. you behave and take it. then, squirts of his cum escape his tip. he cries, pulls out of your mouth, and aims at your face.

you shut your eyes, feeling his cum hit your cheeks and lips.

he lets out a moan of relief.

after a moment passes, you get up from your position and sit on his lap. wrapping your legs around him, he offers you a tired smile. then, he lifts his hands to wipe his cum off your face. opening your mouth, he gives it to you like icing.

you swallow and he feels like he might need a fucking minute.

then, you let out a little giggle when you notice how sweaty he is. you push his hair back and begin to laugh.

"w-what?" he worries. "why are you laughing at me?"

"you're sweating? as if you did any work—"

"i was literally fucking your face!"

"yeah but you're not the one that's gonna have sore cheeks for like three days or bruised knees!"

he shuts up.

you roll your eyes at him and continue to play with his hair. you feel his dick calm down under you. thank god. that fucking beast is scary when you're not in the mood...

"what time is it?" you ask, breaking the silence and breathing in the smell of sin.

jungkook shrugs. "dunno. also don't wanna move. stay like this with me."

you huff. "should i take my panties off or something?"

"why?"

"wanna cockwarm me?"

seriously...

he just might be the luckiest man on earth.

jungkook clears his throat as you straighten up your posture. "wait, i'll just put my panties to the side like this—ahh, mmhmm... y-yeah. like this.... feels good."

by now, jungkook's soft cock is inside you.

you like the feeling and so does he.

suddenly, you rest your head of his shoulder. he wraps his arms around you and holds you. kissing the side of your head, he asks; "you feeling better? relieved?"

"mhmm."

"good." jungkook tightens his lips, as he brings his hands to your hair. he runs them through and you take a deep breath in. you like the way he feels right now... so intimate.

"hey... did we talk a lot during sex?" he asks.

"don't remember."

"oh, okay..." jungkook looks around his studio apartment and suddenly feels embarrassed at how messy it is. "can i come with you to pick zion up today?"

"sure."

jungkook tightens his hold on you. you laugh and tell him it's too tight. he stops squeezing you and asks for a kiss. you give it to him. against your lips, he mummbles; "am i talking too much? i think i'm nervous or something—"

"then shut up."

"hey—"

you pull away and cup his cheeks.

"i feel your dick rising inside me. i don't have the energy for round two. either make the boner go away or i'll get off."

jungkook gulps. then, he shuts his eyes and thinks of every possible un-sexy thing ever... and it works. his dick softens again and you thank him with a kiss. jungkook takes his chance and intertwines your fingers together. you let him do so and his heart soars. something about him being inside you makes you feel so whole. there’s no denying that… and you love it, really. you love him, truly.

for a few more moments, you two stay like this.

you two are together.

[theflyingkipper]

A redo of my Edwards Exploit drawing from ages ago, now in traditional mixed media!

I felt like I didn't capture the mood I wanted last time when I looked it over again (to the horror of everyone who got to see this early. Thank you for gassing up the old one, and keeping me motivated through the making of this)

this version is much more directly studied off the Peter and Gunvor Edwards' illustration, because I've grown into the opinion that the model adaptation of exploit was really weak (technical limitations!!! what a shame) and i want to get back into studying these illustrations, there's a lot to pick apart in them.

Here's a bunch of perspective lines i drew over it when I was sketching. (I don't normally do that when I redraw, but that's usually because I'm drawing from model era screencaps and I can rely on those being proportional, most of the time) Edwards face breaks perspective here just a bit to add more drama to the scene, everything else is proportional.

some in-progress pictures, during which I absolutely HATED how it looked and wanted to switch to digital because I feared I'd messed it up irreconcilably 😭 good thing I was able to look at it with fresh eyes after staring at it for like four hours, the first session of drawing ended at 1am. Believe me, if you hate how your drawing is turning out, put it down and come back to it later!!

Edward is also more referenced off a real K2 here because I really like how they look. Unfortunately they have painful geometry.

something frustrating about my traditional drawings is how they can't be viewed from multiple angles online. I use silver gel pen to highlight some parts (here it's Edward's handrails and the damage) but it doesn't show up well when I photograph it head on. I hope this picture shows a little bit of how it shows up in real life!

(if you can't see, look at the bottom of Edward's boiler bands)

Hopefully you enjoyed reading under the cut :] I like explaining my process and I appreciate it immensely when someone shares my enthusiasm for it.

[hgfictionwriter]

Handy

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Sometimes you forget Jessie’s an engineer. A very thoughtful, but shy one at that. One who feels more comfortable renovating your apartment than telling you she likes you.

Warnings: No warnings.

A/N: I'm hearing some fluff is in order. Hope you all enjoy!

"Where do you want this?" Jessie asked as she stood holding a large box in the doorway to your new bedroom.  

You looked over your shoulder and pointed to the walk-in closet. "Over there would be great. Thank you." 

"No problem," Jessie replied as she walked over and set the box down. She looked around as she stood. "Are you doing anything with the shelving in here?" 

"Oh yeah," you said as you got up and joined her. "I'm going to move these shelves up and add another set here to create more storage." 

"Smart. That'll be good," Jessie affirmed as she scanned the space.

You tried not to stare, but her profile, curious eyes, and the way her baby hairs stuck to her face after several trips to and from the moving truck made it challenging.   

"Hey, I think that's everything." 

Both you and Jessie turned when Janine's voice filtered in from the bedroom, seeing Kelli standing beside her.  

"Oh amazing. Thank you so much, all of you. I'm sure your coach would have my head if he knew you helped me move, but I'm very grateful. And hey - no injuries! Knock on wood. I guess you all still have to make it home in one piece," you joked.  

"Anytime," Janine said as she crossed the room and gave you a hug. "The new digs look great. Condo ownership looks good on you." 

You laughed. "Thank you. And it's even better when highly trained athletes do all the heavy lifting for you." 

"No unpacking though," Kelli joked. "That's where I draw the line." You held up your hands in mock surrender. 

"I can handle that part. Thank you. Next round of dinner and drinks are on me." 

Once everyone left and you continued the tedious task of unpacking, your phone dinged with a text. You retrieved it to see Jessie's name on the screen. 

"Hey. I hope unpacking is going well. I just wanted to say that if you need any help redoing your shelves I'm happy to swing by. I like projects like that." 

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.  

"Sometimes I forget you're an engineer. You've done so much as is - I already rolled the dice by getting you to help me move furniture and precariously packed boxes. I don’t want to push." 

"I really don't mind! And setting up shelves is a lot less risky than holding the bottom end of the couch on the stairs while Kelli and Janine argue about how to angle it through a doorway." 

You laughed recalling the scene in your mind. She had a point. Plus, spending some time alone, just the two of you, wouldn't be unwanted.  

You'd met through Janine a few months back and had become friends in your own right since then, but it was still the norm that you typically only saw each other with Janine. This could be a nice change of pace. And, you know, if seeing her work in such a capacity would turn out to be eye candy - so be it.  

"Alright. You've convinced me. When are you free? And please, please know that if you change your mind it's really not a problem at all. Please don't feel pressured or obliged." 

"Excellent! Does next Sunday work for you? I'd say Saturday, but we have a game that afternoon." 

"I'm aware lol. I'll be there, after all. Sunday sounds great." 

"Right lol. Okay, Sunday it is! Let me know if you need me to pick anything up prior. I'm happy to." 

"You're too sweet. See you then." 

----- 

"You brought your own drill set?" You asked with an amused smile. The blush on Jessie's face was immediate. 

"Well, I didn't know what you had." Her voice rising in pitch. "And I have a spare battery. There's nothing worse mid-project than running out of a charge." 

"Nothing," you mocked affectionately and she averted her gaze as her cheeks grew redder. You smiled at her and ushered her to the walk-in. "Okay, well, between the two of us I think we're all set. Let's get started." 

It didn't take long for it to become Jessie leading and you helping. Going in, you felt you had a decent grasp of what to do, but as the work progressed, you realized how good it was that Jessie was here because she guided things with confidence and ease that you had to admit you probably wouldn't have had in her absence.  

You were expecting this to be an all day venture, but with Jessie at the helm the work went by quickly and smoothly.  

"Hand me that last shelf, please," she instructed calmly as she double-checked her work. 

You were ready with it and handed it up to her. You watched in what you hoped was subtle appreciation as she set it in place.

She stood perched on the ladder, wearing her black hat and her shirt was tucked in. The tape measure was hooked onto her pocket and she wore a soft look of concentration on her face. When she took the shelf, her biceps popped as she lifted it and set it down on the brackets with ease. The pencil tucked behind her ear was the cherry on top.  

Once she was confident the shelf was secure, she turned to you with a bright smile.  

"All done! What do you think?" 

"It's fantastic," you relayed, forcing yourself to refocus. And it was true. Not only was her workmanship thorough, but she'd tweaked a few things in your plan to optimize the setup even further. "Thank you so much. This is better than what I could've imagined. I owe you big time." 

She shrugged and focused on her feet as she stepped down off the ladder. "No, it's all good. It was fun." 

"Well, I really appreciate it. Truly," you went on, seeking eye contact, but she seemed to readily avoid it as she began cleaning up her tools. Eventually, she looked to you with a small smile. 

"Don't mention it. Thanks for letting me help." 

You rolled your eyes teasingly. "You're funny. Can I at least order us in some dinner and make you a drink or two?" You saw her begin to hesitate, a blush creeping up on her cheeks as she fidgeted. Early on, you would've immediately backed off, fearing you were making her truly uncomfortable, but by this point you knew she was just shy. And a bit skittish. You went on gently. "Consider it a small token of my appreciation." 

She gave you a crooked smile as she distractedly readjusted her hat before seeming to catch herself and clasped both hands in front of her. "Okay, sure. That sounds good." 

You two talked fairly late into the night and you noted how Jessie relaxed into the evening. Conversation was easy and naturally weaved from the light and fun to the more serious and heavy without getting uncomfortable or awkward. The night only came to an end because you had to work in the morning.  

"Thank you again for all of your help," you told her as she stood at your front door, shoes, jacket and backpack on. "Not only does the closet look great, but it was a lot of fun - thanks to you. I can't help but think about projects half that serious that I've done with exes and they've turned into all out brawls. So, thank you." 

Her posture straightened slightly and as she blushed with a nervous laugh. "Well, what can I say. We work well together." If you were right, the flush of her cheeks deepened. She averted her gaze, shuffling her feet a bit before she shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and nodded over your shoulder.  

"You said you were going to change out the lighting fixtures in the living room, right?" She asked. Her smile morphed into a smirk. "I mean, I'm not an electrical engineer, but a couple lighting fixtures is no big deal. I could come over next week and help with those." 

You gave her a smirk of your own, unknowingly looking her up and down.  

"If you'd really like to. I certainly won't stop you." 

The easy confidence she was trying to channel a moment ago flickered before she gave you a nonchalant shrug.  

"Sure. It's not a problem." 

"Alright," you accepted. "I'm looking forward to it. Thanks again, and good night." You leaned forward and pulled her into a short hug - something you hadn't done before - and it seemed to catch her off-guard as she very belatedly put her hands up around you as you were already beginning to pull away, and even then, her movements were stiff and tentative. When you fully broke away her face was beet red.  

"Okay." Her voice was high and tight. She gave you a quick, awkward wave before turning to leave. "Have a good night."  

----- 

The next weekend rolled around and Jessie was yet again up on a ladder in your new apartment. She tilted her head and frowned in concentration as she installed the last set of screws on your new lighting fixture.  

"Okay, go ahead and turn the breaker back on," she told you as she stepped down and walked over to the light switch. You did as you were told. 

"Okay, done." 

The switch went on with a soft click and light filled the room. You watched her before looking up at the newly installed fixture. She smirked.  

"Looks good," she said. “How do you like it?”

“It's brilliant. Thank you again. But what I’m really interested in is this,” you said as you closed the space between you two and grasped her hand, she tensed at the contact, but didn’t pull away. You lifted her hand to see the cut on her knuckle.

“I knew it. Let’s get you cleaned up,” you said and at that she pulled her hand back, hiding it behind her back.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“I know you are, but still,” you told her gently, noting the embarrassed look on her face. “Indulge me. Let me at least put a bandaid on it.”

She grumbled in contemplation but eventually conceded. You smiled to yourself at how her head jerked away when you glanced up from her hand to catch her staring at you.

When you finished placing the bandaid on her you released her hand and took a step back. You waited to catch her eye and spoke, “Make sure you clean that up more when you get home.”

Her cheeks grew pink and she rolled her eyes. You caught the hint of a smile on her lips though.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jessie stayed for dinner and a drink once more. Conversation flowed even easier, if that’s possible, than last time. You tried to hide the smile over how pleased you were by this since you and Jessie had been texting all week in between. It would've been understandable if you ran out of things to talk about by this point, but you didn’t - at all.

"I noticed there were a couple of dings in the drywall - probably from when we were moving stuff in. Probably Janine's doing - I'm much more conscientious," Jessie relayed with a facetious eye roll. "I could patch those up for you. I imagine the previous owners left some of the original paint or we could just get it paint matched." 

You smirked at her from across the couch.  

"You know, we could always just hang out - no reno job required. You don’t have to do something every time." 

She blushed and took a sip of her drink.  

"Oh, well, you know. I don’t mind." 

"Well, how about we just hang out next time. If you are desperate to repair the drywall even after that, well, have at 'er. But maybe a work-free, normal hang out would be nice," you told her with a soft laugh. She nodded, blush fading as she returned your smile.  

“Okay, that sounds like a plan." She swirled her drink, looking down at the churning liquid and speaking into it. "You could come over to my place? I could make us dinner. Or whatever." She finally mustered up the courage to look back up at you.

Now it was your turn to blush. You fiddled with your glass and offered her a hint of a smile. "Okay. That sounds nice." 

————

“Whoa. That’s fancy,” Jessie commented as you set down a nice bottle of Chardonnay on her counter.

“Well, it’s my first time over. I had to break out the good stuff for you.”

Jessie grinned and retrieved a couple of glasses for you before setting down two plates of food on the kitchen table.

“This looks amazing,” you told her as you looked at the meal she prepared. “And I can’t help but think this just isn’t fair. You did all this free work for me and now you’ve made me dinner.”

“Was it free?” She squinted at you teasingly. “You had to listen to me babble on about metric versus imperial for a solid 20 minutes there.”

“I didn’t mind. I’d listen to that any day. I like hearing your facts and tidbits and about whatever you're interested in,” you assured her and she tried to conceal her smile. “How’d you become so handy anyway? I mean, I know you have this engineering background now, but still.”

She shrugged. “I liked helping my dad with projects around the house. Helping him build stuff. It was just always fascinating to me to see things come together like that and to know you did it with your own two hands.”

“That’s cute. And very sweet,” you told her as you took a bite. She dismissed your comment with a small wave of her fork.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Well. I still think it’s cute. And I certainly reaped the rewards. Thank you again - seriously, for all of your help. You didn’t have to help me, and I really appreciate all the work you did.”

She took a sip of wine and peered at you over the glass, taking a moment to contemplate.

“There’s still that matter of the drywall,” she joked.

“You’re still on that, huh?” You said with a laugh. “What are we going to do when there are no projects left to work on?”

A faint blush began to form on Jessie’s face and she shuffled around in her chair a bit before taking a bite of food.

“There are always projects to be done. And if not, well, you’re the one who said we could hang out without a project to work on.”

You propped your elbow on the table and rest your chin in your open palm. “And the offer still stands. Clearly,” you gestured around her apartment. “If you’re interested.” Jessie dropped your gaze and flushed a deeper tone of pink.

“Yeah. I mean, we get along alright.”

You snickered a bit before taking a sip of your drink.

“What resounding affirmation," you said dryly and she shot you a bashful look. You smirked. "I guess it’s settled then.”

You polished off the bottle of wine that evening and your conversation carried you late into the night. You made a point of not checking the time and Jessie made no attempt to either. You had to work in the morning, but you just didn't care. You'd deal with the consequences later.

At some point though, an inevitable yawn escaped Jessie.

“Oh, I should let you get to sleep,” you offered, though not yet moving from your spot on the couch next to her. You were sitting across from one another and you were very aware of how if either of you shifted in a particular way, your legs would brush.

“No, it’s fine,” she dismissed. “I’ll get my second wind here in no time.” You chuckled and finally checked your phone. Your eyes went wide.

“Oh shit,” you laughed. “Well, I’ve worked off of less sleep before.”

“You didn’t tell me you were working,” she frowned at you. “Yeah, some clients are in from out of town. It’s okay, I wanted to hang out with you.” You reluctantly rose from the couch and she followed. “As much as I'm enjoying myself, I should go. I can get about 4 hours of sleep if there are no delays on the train.”

“You are not taking the train,” Jessie told you in the most stern voice you’d ever heard from her. It actually caught you off guard and you ignored the stirring in your chest at her display.

“Fine. An Uber,” you conceded.

“No. I’ll drive you,” she countered.

“Don’t be silly.” You waved her off. “You’re tired too and I’m not making you drive 30 minutes across town and back at this hour.”

“Then…I don't know, just spend the night.” She immediately held up her hands in defense. “Not like that. I just mean…it’s super late, getting home is going to be a pain. I’ll drive you home in the morning whenever you’re ready.”

“Jessie…” It was tempting. The logic wasn’t entirely bulletproof, but reasonable enough.

In the time you took to start contemplating, Jessie had run to the closet and started pulling out spare pillows and blankets. You looked at them when she returned and gave her a discerning look. You didn’t feel uncomfortable, you just didn’t want to intrude.

“I’ll take an Uber in the morning.” You told her and she gave you an easy smile as she began setting up the couch.

“I’ll drive you,” she repeated nonchalantly.

“Oh my god. You’re so stubborn,” you complained half-heartedly.

“Sometimes,” she admitted with a shrug as she went to her room for a few moments and came back out with a set of pyjamas.

“Don’t tell Janine. She’ll never let me hear the end of this,” you warned in mock petulance as you went to take the clothes from her. She pulled her fingers across her lips, feigning a zipping motion.

“She wouldn’t let me hear the end of it either, so I'd say we're now partners in crime,” she laughed, but held the clothes back from you. “These are mine. Yours are on the bed.”

“Huh?” You asked, giving her a blatant look of confusion.

“I’m sleeping out here. You take the bed,” she returned lightly and before you could retort she gently began to corral you towards her bedroom.

“Jessie.” You protested. “Are you nuts? I’m taking the couch.”

“Incorrect,” she refuted before giving you one final, soft push into the room. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She looked up at the ceiling, seeming to calculate something in her head. “6 am?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, still giving her a lingering look of disapproval. Before you could conjure a retort, she went on.

"This is my house, so what I say goes," she said rather haughtily, coupled with a subtle smirk. She was evidently very pleased with herself and her mannerisms had you too distracted, a small flutter echoing in your chest, so you let it be. You rolled your eyes.

“Fine. Okay. Well, if you change your mind - feel free to kick me out. Of your bedroom or the apartment - either is fine.”

“Now who’s nuts,” she quipped. Her light and easy demeanour wavered slightly as she paused in the doorway and ran a hand through her hair. “Um, well, bathroom’s through there. Help yourself to whatever. Good night.”

You were still in vague disbelief about how the last part of the night had unfolded as you lay in Jessie’s bed, wearing her clothes. Had you previously imagined being in Jessie’s bed? Yes. Did you imagine this? No. Certainly not.

All things considered, you slept pretty well. You didn't expect yourself to, so it was a surprise when your alarm went off. It took you a few moments for your mind to reconcile the unfamiliar surroundings, but you quickly came to. You sat up, the first rays of morning light illuminating the room and you observed them in a more lucid headspace than you had the night before.

The room was neat, organized, minimalistic in a way, but still had plenty of things that made it Jessie. A few framed photos of family and friends, her camera, a few, select books neatly displayed, some cute trinkets from her trips around the globe - no medals on display though. How typical.

A sound from the kitchen pulled you from your observations with a frown. You thought you were hearing things at first until you heard a few more faint sounds.

You quickly got changed and tentatively opened the bedroom door a crack to peer out. Not only was Jessie up already, she was in the middle of making breakfast. You opened the door the rest of the way with a puzzled look on your face. She turned to you with a smile.

"Morning! How did you sleep?"

"How long have you been up?" You asked instead. She glanced at her watch.

"I don't know. 30 minutes maybe? So, how did you sleep?" She repeated her inquiry.

"Shockingly well," you replied with a light laugh as you leaned on the kitchen counter and watched her work. "How about you? Miss I-insist-on-taking-the-couch."

She shot you a smirk over her shoulder as she scrambled the eggs in the frying pan. "I slept perfectly well, thank you," she relayed pointedly. "Coffee?" She asked.

"Please."

"Black, right?"

You smiled at her. "Yes, thank you. Can I do anything to help you?"

"Nope, just about done," she told you as she handed you a travel mug with steaming hot coffee. "For the road," she explained.

You watched Jessie as she turned back to the stove and continued making breakfast. For a split second, you pictured yourself as a couple in this moment. Easy mornings together, sharing breakfast and coffee, talking about your day ahead, kissing each other goodbye and going your separate ways until you came home to one another. You cleared your throat and shook out your head subtly as you came back to reality. You didn't want to get too far ahead of yourself.

You both ate a quick breakfast together, and took your toast and coffee to go. Jessie navigated through traffic on the way to your apartment. You scolded yourself internally for how you found something as simple as Jessie driving, attractive. Okay, maybe you really had it bad for her.

"I have to say, I feel like I'm 18 again or something," you joked. "Getting 4 hours of sleep, going through a whole bunch of hoops just to get to school - or work in this case - on time. It's ridiculous. But it was fun." You took a sip of your coffee. "I bet you were in bed by 10 every night in uni - minus late game nights, if that was a thing. But 8 hours of sleep, very responsible, all your readings and homework done."

Jessie shot you a mild glare.

"I've had some wild nights," she countered, not sounding entirely convincing, or even remotely, really. It endeared her to you more.

"Oh yeah, I bet you were a real bad girl," you teased. Jessie rolled her eyes.

"Oh, and like you were."

You sat primly and gave her a sly smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know."

You bantered back and forth the rest of the drive, and again, it felt like you were already something you were not. You found yourself lamenting your arrival as she pulled up to your building. Pushing aside your disappointment, you instead leaned over the middle console and gave Jessie a fleeting kiss on the cheek. She startled at the touch.

"Thanks for driving me. And for letting me spend the night. And for dinner," you frowned as you added things to the list. "I've gotta start pulling my weight here."

"No," she said in a strained voice, her cheeks flaring up as she glanced at you before her eyes darted away. She laughed nervously and scratched the back of her neck. "Don't mention it."

You gave her forearm a quick squeeze, a blush threatening to form on your own face at how firm the muscles were there, and stepped out of the car. You walked to your door, quickly strategizing if or when to turn back and wave when you heard her call out your name. You turned around with a puzzled look on your face.

"Uh, I could drive you to work? When you're ready?" She offered from the car through the now-open window. Her face burned impossibly brighter red. "It'll be faster than the bus."

You smiled openly at her.

"Oh, you're just spoiling me now." She smiled in return. "Well, who am I to say 'no'?" ------

A/N: Part Two is available here.

[readychilledwine]

A Helping Hand

Rhysand Week Day 4 : Lord of Night

Summary - High Lord, Husband, father. Rhysand's plate is just far too full, leading the Inner Circle to take over some duties.

Warnings - workaholic Rhysand, discussions of classism, new dad Rhys, platonic bond, loose editing so forgive me if I fix things later

A/N - I am so sorry this is late! I think someone *cough baby daddy cough* accidently deleted it when he did a run through for me. But anyways, happy late day 4 and day 5 of @officialrhysandweek! It'll be a double post day 💕

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

“Please just let me handle this for you,” you were firm in the request, hand still on the request of approval to renovate the Opera house in the Rainbow. “We both know this project is completely unneeded. There is no reason for you to waste your time penning the letter.”

Rhysand stared at where your hand met the paper. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, “I-”

“No. It's time for us to have a serious discussion.” You took the paper from him and then held his hands. “Rhysand, you have spread yourself far too thin. You are not sleeping well with a newborn, you are helping Feyre as she's healing, you are recovering from trauma. Let me help you by organizing the report by who should actually be handling them.”

Rhys seemed to consider your words before nodding, “I want final-”

“Rhysand, we have known each other for 500 years. Do you truly not trust me enough to make a decision based on your preferences?”

He tugged that power exchange bond between the two of you, silently asking for a bit of your energy. You offered it to him without hesitation, without even so much as thinking about your well-being over his. “I do not want the fae in this court knowing I'm not the one running the court.” You couldn't help but sigh and roll your eyes and stare at him, blinking as if to say, “Duh.” His lips twitched into a smile at you, “What are you going to do, sweetheart? Forge my signat..” His eyes went wide as he realized that was exactly what you had planned. “I expect brief rundowns first.”

“And you will have them. Now go take a nap.”

The Inner Circle gathered in the new father's office claiming reports left and right. Cassian took anything involving Illyria and the training camps. Azriel took anything involving newcomers to the City of Starlight, border related issues, and requests for visiting. Mor and Amren split Hewn City. Dividing those reports among issues relating to rumors of uprisings or requests for help and sanctuary from tortured females. It left you with things regarding the inner workings of Velaris. You were curled in your own office, writing the rejection letter for the Opera House Project. The Opera House had been a gift to Velaris after Rhysand's return home. It was barely more than a few years old and every single feature had been planned to perfection by you and Rhysand as a way to heal the odd bind that tied you two together. The wealthy fae of Velaris were asking to redo the seating. Specifically, they wanted the seats to be made larger. 

You knew this wasn't for comfort. You had fallen in love with studying the patterns of consumerism throughout Prythian history. You knew this project was aimed at accessibility. Less sears meant higher prices for shows. Higher prices meant exclusion of the middle and lower classes. Exclusion from the arts was dangerous, though. Something you, Rhysand, and Feyre stood firmly against. 

Hours seemed to pass as you finished one thing and moved to the next, realizing how far behind Rhysand had gotten. He was hardly sleeping, rotating nights with Feyre, or just forcing her to sleep while he handled nights with a newborn alone. He was being the father he never had. One who earned the title of Dad, and you knew the last thing he'd want was the fae he cared so much for to suffer because of it. 

The sunset when Cassian arrived, his work completed. “Rhys has been given the gist of everything. I am to only have to send one thing to the camp leaders,” Cassian slid a letter, one penned by himself over to you. “Rhysie is having them start to direct all issues to me first. Using your whole chain of command idea.” 

Silence. 

Cassian's words were met with silence as you swallowed hard, holding in tears of pride. “He's delegating?!”

The commander nodded, scarred lips twitching to smirk. “He is.”

You'd never faked his signature so fast, quill flying across the parchments, “This is good.”

Azriel was next with Nuala and Cerridwen in tow, “City guard is to report issues to the twins from now on,” he leaned into his chair. “If they deem it serious enough, they will handle it unless I need to get involved.”

“And if you can't handle it,” you questioned as a joke. 

Azriel scoffed before schooling his reaction to your jab, “Then, and only then, is Rhys to get involved. My part of his reports are done and sent. I didn't think anyone would have issues with me answering security related issues.” 

They'd be a fool to, is what you wanted to reply with. Azriel was not the type of male to fuck with unless you had a death wish. He was petty at times and loved to plot. 

Mor came next, throwing herself dramatically into the chair. “I hate how your Office is a dry zone,” she groaned. “I'll be visiting daddy dearest.” 

You gagged at that and the two of you launched into a gossip session. Turns out, her father had taken Rhysand's recent absence in Hewn City as an open invitation to run a few illegal trade rings. Rings Mor was all too happy to be putting an end to. 

“That summarizes what Amren and I will both be dealing with,” she yawned, perfect red nails flying to her lips. “I'm going to bed.”

10.

11. 

Midnight.

2am rolled around and your door opened again, a sleepy Rhysand carrying a sleeping Nyx. “Go to bed,” his tone was commanding but held an air of affection to you. “You're no better than me.”

You only maintained eye contact, smirking as you put his name on a document approving a community vegetable garden and greenhouse, “Yet here we are,” you whispered. “All your reports, acquisitions, and petitions done and handled.”

His face fell, eyes shutting as he nodded, “You all got me caught up?”

With a wave of your hand, all the stacks vanished to their proper locations where they would sit and wait to be opened by their receivers. “We did,” you stood as silently as possible and moved to him and Nyx, “Do you want me to go lay him down?”

Rhysand only responded by pulling you into a tight side hug, his face burying in your hair, “How can I repay you for this? You have no clue what this meant to Feyre and I.”

The hug was payment enough. Contact with your best friend making that power bond hum as you hugged him back, “No repayment is necessary, Rhys. We all need help sometimes.”

“But-”

You whispered again, interrupting him, “We all need help sometimes.”

Understand, gratefulness, and admiration filled his almost violet colored gaze, “How did I get blessed with Feyre as my mate and you as my carranam?”

“Good question,” you shot back. “Maybe it was so we could keep you humble.” You took Nyx slowly, moving to walk the little heir back to his nursery. “Or maybe it was to keep you from dying in your office. Goodnight, Rhysand.”

You could tell he wanted to sass you back, to have the last word. It had been so long since that side of him came out, and you were glad to see a day of rest brought some fire back to him. He seemed to settle with nodding, walking backwards as he watched you take Nyx, “This isn't over. Once I wake up refreshed tomorrow, it's on. Goodnight, Y/n.”

General Taglist:

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[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

Guys, appreciate Clarita here cuz I'm having to read abt quantum physics again just to write for you ahahah

Love language: acts of disruption hehehe

Enjoy it <3

Pairing: Dark!Witch Wanda x Fem Reader

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Summary: The witch inside Wanda can't help but feel the spark in you.

Read here: Prologue | ENVY | MULTIVERSAL ANCHOR | FUEL

Spark

Working with Wanda Maximoff was an emotionally crafted torment. From the moment you stepped through the office doors until the instant you left, exhausted, she made it her mission to remind you that she was in control.

"You're late," she'd say, even when you arrived five minutes early. "Is this the level of commitment you think is acceptable?"

Or: "Is this the best you can do?" as she reviewed your painstakingly polished work with disdain.

Every word, every look heavy with contempt, felt like a needle piercing your skin. You wanted to scream, to throw the stack of reports in her face, and leave for good. But you couldn’t. Your future career depended on this job, so you swallowed your pride, suppressed the anger, and allowed her to push you to the limit.

But there was something else. Something that irritated you even more than her brutal demeanor. The look. That look.

Wanda had a habit of watching you with an intensity that felt almost predatory, her eyes trailing every inch of your body as if she were deciphering a riddle only you held the answer to. Sometimes, it was so overwhelming that heat rose to your face, but at the same time, there was something... addictive.

You hated how your body responded to that gaze. You hated how your heart raced when she drew near, how the idea of defying her both thrilled and terrified you. It infuriated you that her mere presence could elicit such a visceral reaction.

That day, everything seemed to reach a breaking point.

"I need these reports revised in an hour," Wanda said, not even looking at you as she placed a thick stack of papers in front of you. "And by revised, I mean flawless. If I find a single mistake, we’ll have a very serious conversation."

You stared at the pile, then at her. "An hour? Do you have any idea how much work that takes?"

She raised her gaze, her face a mask of icy authority. "Do you have any objections?"

You opened your mouth to retort but decided it wasn’t worth it. You pulled the papers closer and began to work.

The clock seemed to work against you, the pressure suffocating. When you handed the reports in, your head throbbed, and your fingers ached from typing.

Wanda reviewed everything in silence, her eyes scanning each line. Then, with a dramatic sigh, she looked at you.

"This," she said, spinning the report with her fingers and pointing to a specific phrase, "is unacceptable."

You leaned in to see what she was pointing at. There it was: a single word in the middle of a sentence—comfortable.

"Comfortable?" Wanda repeated, as if the word itself were a personal insult. "You're describing a scenario of critical analysis and use comfortable to characterize the impact of a strategic decision?"

You blinked, confused and already exhausted. "Well, it was meant to demonstrate—"

"It doesn’t matter what it was meant to demonstrate," Wanda cut in, her voice cold as ice. "What matters is that your choice was... inadequate."

She slid the report back to you, not even bothering to disguise her impatience. "Redo it. And this time, choose words that actually make sense."

You grabbed the papers, your fingers gripping the edges so tightly you nearly tore them. It was the third time redoing the same work, each time over a detail only she seemed to find relevant.

Wanda walked back to her desk, leaving you alone with your wounded pride and mounting frustration. You worked quickly but carefully, then handed the reports back. She read them in silence, her eyes moving over each line until another exasperated sigh escaped her lips.

"Again," she said, spinning the papers back in your direction. "Here, you used significant in a way that sounds redundant. Redo it."

That was it. You’d had enough.

"Maybe you should just do it yourself, professor," you snapped, dripping with sarcasm.

The silence that followed was deafening. Wanda looked up, her eyes glinting with something between fury and fascination.

"Repeat that," she commanded, every syllable laced with crushing authority.

Your heart raced, but you forced yourself to keep your chin up. " I think you heard exacly what I said." Your pride seemed to override your sense of self-preservation. "Surely, your hearing is still intact."

Wanda stood slowly, walking toward you with deliberate steps, every movement radiating power. When she stopped in front of you, she leaned down just enough for your eyes to meet.

The office was silent, the tension so thick you could almost touch it. Wanda’s gaze bore into yours, like knives cutting through the walls you tried to put up. Then, she smiled.

It wasn’t a warm smile. Nor one of pleasure. It was calculated, a smile that said she knew exactly how much power she held over you—and how easily she could unravel you with a single word.

"If I were you," she said, her voice low and dangerously controlled, "I would choose my next words very carefully, dekta."

That word echoed in your mind like distant thunder. Dekta. She said it so casually, as if it were something small, trivial. But you knew it wasn’t.

It was Russian; you knew that much. Since meeting Wanda, the language had piqued your curiosity, but not enough to delve deeper. Now, however, you felt the weight of that small word each time she uttered it, the way it made your heart tremble. It wasn’t just a nickname—it was possessive, electric, and it made your skin tingle in ways you hated to admit.

And beneath the glacial control Wanda displayed, something wild roared inside her. Each word that escaped her lips felt like a spark, igniting a fire she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—extinguish.

It was fascinating—and exasperating—how young you were. So young. Almost pure, but with a spark of fire she wanted to extinguish and reignite at the same time. The witch inside her whispered constantly, like a hypnotic song, insisting that you were a rare prize, something that needed to be claimed, molded, possessed.

Your heart was beating so fast you thought you might faint. But at the same time, there was something incredibly thrilling about that exchange, something you didn’t want to admit even to yourself.

That was when you realized: you didn’t know if you hated Wanda Maximoff or if you wanted to kiss her right there.

And that thought terrified you.

The silence in the office was palpable—only broken by the rhythmic tapping of Wanda’s nails against the wooden desk. You sat across from her, hands resting on your lap, but your eyes boldly challenged hers, glowing with an intensity that contradicted the shy image you projected.

“You’re so smart,” Wanda began, her voice low and dangerous. “And you really think it’s acceptable to turn in work... of this quality?” She slid the paper across the desk.

You ignored the flicker of warmth in your chest at her direct compliment.

You hesitated for a second, trying to gauge the intensity of the situation before responding. “I thought the content was what mattered. But it seems the presentation is what impresses you, professor.”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you could almost swear you saw a flicker of surprise painted red in her gaze. It didn’t last long. The surprise quickly gave way to something darker, a careful calculation that seemed to weigh each of your words as if they were pieces in a game she had already won.

“Are you saying my evaluation is superficial?” she asked, her voice controlled but charged with a force that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” you replied, leaning slightly forward. “I just think your expectations are... unrealistic.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Then Wanda laughed. It wasn’t a genuine laugh but a short, cold sound that seemed to mock your attempt to stand up to her.

“Unrealistic expectations?” she repeated, rising to her feet. Each step she took toward you felt calculated, as if she were marking her territory. When she stopped behind you, the heat of her presence was almost tangible. “Do you know what I think?”

You swallowed hard but maintained your composure. “No, but I imagine you’re going to tell me.”

She leaned closer, her voice just near your ear. “I think you’re petulant. A stubborn little girl with a sharp tongue who likes to test limits to see how far she can go before someone tames her and puts her exactly where she belongs.”

“And where would that be?” your whisper was hoarse, almost painful from the tension you felt between your thighs.

Wanda laughed again, a softer sound this time, almost indulgent. Leaning closer until her lips were nearly touching your ear, she replied, “Right beneath me, looking up at me with those doe eyes, begging for my mercy.”

Your heart raced. You could feel each beat like a drum in your ears, but you managed a short laugh, more to mask your nervousness. “If that’s what you think, maybe you need to watch me more closely, professor.”

That’s when something shifted. For a brief instant, you saw something in Wanda’s eyes. It wasn’t just anger or disdain but an indecipherable glimmer, almost dangerous. Fascination? Interest? It was impossible to say, but it stirred something in you that left you unsettled.

“Closely?” She repeated, as if tasting the word. Returning to her chair, she crossed her legs with controlled elegance and rested her chin on her hand. “Interesting. Perhaps I should. After all, you seem to have a lot to learn about respect and discipline.”

The tension between you was stifling. Every word seemed laden with hidden layers, messages no one dared to decipher. “And you seem to enjoy talking about it,” you replied, trying to regain some control. But there was a tremor in your voice, a small hesitation Wanda surely didn’t miss.

The smile she gave you was devastating. There was nothing friendly about it—only a dark pleasure in seeing you falter. “Be careful with your words, darling. You might not like what happens if you keep provoking me.”

You knew she was in control. But what intrigued you the most was how she seemed to be fighting something within herself. You couldn’t ignore the subtle glow starting to form in her hands, tiny red sparks dancing in sync with her uneven breathing. Wanda quickly clenched her fists, as if trying to extinguish it, but the glimpse was enough to awaken something in you.

What was that? Power? Anger? Or something deeper, something visceral she didn’t want to reveal? Your curiosity was piqued, a spark igniting somewhere inside you. Perhaps it was dangerous, but for the first time, you wanted to understand what lay behind the absolute control Wanda so insisted on displaying.

Her fingers tightened into fists at her sides, and a crimson glow began to appear in her eyes. She realized too late that red sparks were dancing at her fingertips, small flickers of long-dormant power now awakened by you.

“You...” Her voice was a low growl, laden with something more primal than words could express. “You really don’t know what you’re doing, do you?”

Heat radiated from her body, and Wanda had to fight the overwhelming urge to let her powers fully manifest. She wanted—God, how she wanted—to wrap those hands around your neck, not to hurt, but to feel control, to see you bend under her.

But she knew she couldn’t. Not here.

Wanda took a step back, trying to regain control. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, but all she saw was your expression: defiant yet vulnerable. So maddeningly perfect.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” she finally broke the silence, her voice low and loaded. “You think your sharp words and rebellious attitude will get you anywhere?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The intensity of her gaze left you frozen in place, and the small part of you that dared to confront her was now silent.

“You irritate me,” Wanda continued, her voice a dangerous mix of frustration and something darker, something she herself didn’t want to admit. “And at the same time...”

She stopped, swallowing the words before they escaped. No. She wasn’t going to give you that satisfaction.

But what she couldn’t hide, what was as clear as the red glow still flickering in her eyes, was that there was something about you that called to her, that provoked her in a way no one ever had before.

You were a spark. A wildfire. A slow, inevitable destruction.

And Wanda knew, deep down, that she couldn’t extinguish you.

She stared at you for another moment, her crimson eyes still glowing. “Leave,” she ordered, her voice firm but not as steady as before. “Now!”

You obeyed, but each step toward the door felt like it led you deeper into a maze you knew you couldn’t escape. As you left, the sound of Wanda’s controlled breathing still echoed in your mind.

Inside the office, alone, Wanda finally allowed herself to relax. But as she looked at her hands, still trembling with residual energy, she knew the truth: there was something about you she couldn’t ignore. Something that pulled her to a place she wasn’t sure she wanted to explore.

“She’ll be my ruin,” Wanda murmured, the red glow finally fading. “And God help me, because I want it more than anything.”

[...]

One more night, when you would go to sleep with your thoughts fixed on one another. The night was an escape for both of you, though neither of you truly understood why. When your eyes closed, the world around you dissolved, and there you were.

The setting was simple: a kitchen bathed in the warm light of sunset streaming through open windows. The sound of children’s laughter echoed in the background, and the air was filled with the aroma of something delicious baking in the oven. You sat on the couch in the living room, a serene smile on your lips as you cradled a small, green-eyed baby.

Seline.

You had never seen her before in real life, but in the dream, she was yours, and it made sense in an inexplicable way. She was warm against your chest, nursing with a strong, satisfied rhythm. Every movement she made was familiar, natural, as if it were a moment you had always known.

In the corner of the room, Wanda stood. Her figure was a blend of strength and gentleness as she used her powers to stir a pot on the stove. The red glow danced in her hands, and she seemed calm, almost happy. From time to time, she glanced away from her task to look at you.

Wanda watched you from afar, her eyes capturing the serenity on your face as you held the little one. The scene was so intimate, so natural, that it made something inside her tighten. She didn’t understand how, but she knew she had lived this moment before.

It was always the same scene, the same dream, yet each night it felt more real, more alive.

“Are you comfortable, my love?” Wanda asked with a tenderness that made both your hearts ache.

Your smile was her answer, but you confirmed it with a simple, “Yes.” It wasn’t just a response; it was an absolute truth, and Wanda felt it deep in her chest.

As she knelt by your side, her touch was both reverent and familiar. Her fingers, still warm from her magic, skillfully worked to ease any tension you might have felt. It was an act of care that transcended the moment—it was a promise.

“You make it look so easy,” Wanda murmured, her eyes fixed on Seline, who nestled against you with complete trust.

“Because with you here, everything is.” Your answer was simple but laden with something Wanda couldn’t quite name.

These moments always ended the same way: Wanda leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead, her fingers brushing your skin with the lingering warmth of her magic. Yet there was something in her gaze, something deep and unwavering, as if she were looking at a home she had both lost and found at the same time.

Wanda woke with a jolt.

Reality hit her like a cold bucket of water. The room she was in wasn’t the house from the dream. It was the bedroom of this universe, shared with Vision, but as empty as a cavern.

She closed her eyes, pressing her fingers to her temples. What was that? Why did she keep reliving this scene with you, someone she could barely tolerate in real life?

It was impossible. Wasn’t it?

But the more nights passed, the more Wanda was convinced there was something between you that defied the laws of time and space. Something that transcended multiverses, as if you were two pieces of a cosmic puzzle, always destined to meet, yet doomed to lose one another.

And somewhere within her, a certainty grew: these dreams weren’t mere figments of her imagination. They were fragments of something greater, something her soul recognized even if her mind denied it.

But the truth was more complicated. Wanda knew she didn’t hate you.

At the same time, you woke up.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your heart pounding. There was Seline again, a name that seemed to echo within you like a forgotten memory. And Wanda... The gentleness in her eyes, the careful touch, the way she seemed so at ease in that dream world...

You hated yourself for it. Hated that a woman like her could leave you so vulnerable, so desperate for something you didn’t understand.

Back at the office the next day, Wanda was different.

The shell of the unshakable, cruel woman seemed cracked. Her eyes lingered on you for too long, something indefinable passing through her gaze. And her powers, long thought dormant, began to peek through the cracks.

Every time you spoke, every time she grew irritated by your presence, the red glow threatened to surface.

And Wanda didn’t know if it terrified her... or excited her.

The soft light of the setting sun filtered through the window, reflecting off perfectly arranged bookshelves and furniture that exuded authority. You sat across from her, your posture a mix of defiance and nervousness.

Today, something was different.

Wanda didn’t speak much, but her eyes… they were sharp, as if peeling back layers, analyzing every part of you. She had prepared a stack of reports and exercises, each more complex and tedious than the last.

“I want you to review all of this in one hour,” Wanda said, her voice low and cutting.

“All of this?” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “You want me to do alone in an hour what your students do in a week?”

“Yes,” Wanda answered simply, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Unless it’s too much for you.”

You gritted your teeth, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing you hesitate. Picking up the first sheet, you began to work, but the questions were deliberately vague, almost impossible to solve.

“This doesn’t make sense,” you muttered, more to yourself than to her.

Wanda looked up, her fingers tapping on the desk. “What was that?”

“This,” you said, holding up the sheet. “The question is poorly written. It doesn’t make sense. Not even the brightest professor could solve it.”

The corner of Wanda’s mouth twitched into a faint smile. “Perhaps the problem isn’t the question but the person answering it.”

Blood rushed to your face. You knew she was provoking you, testing how far she could push you. But you were tired of it too.

“With all due respect, professor,” you began, your tone sour, “if you’re trying to humiliate me, maybe you should try harder. This isn’t difficult; it’s just poorly done.”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed. The room seemed to grow warmer.

“Repeat that,” she said, her voice so calm it was chilling.

You hesitated, but her gaze dared you, as if saying you wouldn’t have the courage.

“I said,” you continued, your voice trembling, “that maybe... maybe you should—”

Before you could finish, something in the room shifted. The air around you seemed to vibrate, as if charged with electricity. The temperature truly rose, and a red glow began to emanate from Wanda’s hands, now resting on the desk.

Her eyes... They glowed in a way that seemed impossible.

Time stretched thin, like a taut wire on the verge of snapping. You stared at Wanda, the scarlet glow dancing around her hands like something alive, pulsing. Sparks floated in the air, illuminating the room with a supernatural crimson light, almost hypnotic.

You told yourself you should be afraid, but fear never came. What replaced it was a deep, unsettling curiosity. Powers? Was this real? It seemed impossible, yet there she was, almost divine in her presence, her eyes burning like stars with an intensity that made you forget to breathe.

Wanda seemed less human in that moment — more like something beyond flesh and bone, beyond anything you could comprehend. And yet, you couldn’t look away. Her beauty, already disarming before, now seemed amplified. It was as if the power radiating from her was an extension of everything that made her irresistible.

“Perhaps I should what?” Wanda asked, her voice dripping with irony and danger.

You froze. The red glow intensified, forming tiny sparks floating in the air. Papers on the desk began to slide on their own, and the bookshelves groaned, as if adjusting to an invisible weight.

“I…” you tried to speak, but your voice faltered.

Wanda rose slowly, every movement deliberate, her eyes locked onto yours. The crimson aura around her was mesmerizing and terrifying all at once.

“Why does she challenge us like this? Doesn’t she know what she’s playing with?” A darker, more instinctual voice echoed in Wanda’s mind. End it now. Show her who’s stronger.

But then, a quieter voice, almost a whisper, countered. What if that’s what she wants? What if she isn’t just challenging us, but trying to reach us?

Wanda’s eyes flickered as she struggled to maintain control, red energy pulsing around her hands. You, so small and yet somehow imposing, stood frozen in place. Your bravery was foolish, but there was something in the way you looked at her — as if you saw beyond the raw power, beyond the unshakable façade.

“Why do you keep testing my limits, detka?” Wanda asked, her voice low but sharp as a blade. “Don’t you see how this could end up hurting you?”

You didn’t know what to say. Fear and adrenaline mixed inside you, but there was something else… something darker, more intimate. You were fascinated by her, by the power she exuded with every fiber of her being.

“I… don’t know,” you finally murmured.

“She doesn’t understand,” the cruel voice insisted. "She doesn’t know what she’s risking."

"She knows exactly what she’s doing," the gentler voice argued. "She’s seeing what no one else sees."

“Don’t know?” Wanda repeated, stepping closer. The red energy around her seemed alive, pulsing with each beat of her heart. “Maybe I should teach you not to meddle with things you don’t understand.”

Suddenly, the crimson glow burst in a flash that illuminated the entire room. The walls vibrated, and you instinctively shrank into your chair, shielding your face with your arms.

When the light dimmed, the office was a mess. Papers were scattered everywhere, books had fallen from the shelves, and Wanda’s desk bore a deep scorch mark.

You looked at her, your heart pounding in your chest. Wanda was still there, but something about her seemed different. More alive. More dangerous.

She was breathing heavily, as if she’d just run a marathon. For a moment, her eyes met yours, and there was something there that left you speechless.

“Get out,” Wanda finally said, her voice low but filled with an authority that brooked no argument. “Now!”

You stared at her figure, and she looked like a goddess — the incandescent red glow surrounding her gave her a unique aura, leaving you captivated.

With clenched fists and inexplicable courage, you answered, “No.”

The word echoed through the office, charged with a boldness you didn’t know you possessed. Wanda stopped in her tracks, her bright red eyes fixed on you. For a brief moment, the world seemed to freeze.

“She’s crazy,” the dark voice commented.

“Or extremely brave,” the other voice countered.

Wanda tilted her head slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible smile forming on her lips. She took a slow, deliberate step forward, the energy around her dimming but not disappearing.

The glow around her intensified, almost blinding, and the air in the room grew dense and suffocating. She looked like a storm about to break, every muscle in her body tense, as if on the verge of destroying everything around her.

“Do you have any idea what you just said?” Wanda asked, her voice low and dangerous, like the rumble of distant thunder.

You swallowed hard, but something inside you refused to yield. “I do.”

Wanda’s gaze narrowed, and the red glow around her flickered, like an unstable flame. She stepped closer, and you had to fight the instinct to back away.

She stopped inches from you, the heat of her magic almost tangible. Her eyes were like portals — intense and deep — and for a moment, you felt completely vulnerable under her gaze.

“She’s fascinating,” the gentle voice whispered in Wanda’s mind.

“She’s dangerous,” the cruel voice replied.

“Then why do you keep staying?” Wanda murmured, her voice laced with both threat and genuine curiosity.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding, but you held her gaze. “Because deep down, I think you want me to.”

That answer hit Wanda like a wave. The voices in her mind fell silent, and she took a slight step back, the red glow around her diminishing even further. She turned her back to you, her hands trembling slightly.

“She saw beyond us,” Wanda thought, confused. "She saw something even we don’t understand."

At last, Wanda spoke, her voice softer, almost broken. “You have no idea what you’re saying.”

But the smile you gave in response was full of a certainty that disarmed her completely. “I think you don’t either.”

“You’re just an insolent girl,” Wanda said, her voice laced with disdain and something else you couldn’t quite identify. “You have no idea what you’re doing or who you’re dealing with.”

“Maybe not,” you answered, lifting your chin defiantly. “But you don’t seem to know who I am either. Or what I’m capable of enduring.”

The red glow intensified, casting her face in an ominous light. You could feel her anger, palpable like a wave of heat, but there was something else — a sort of fascination that seemed to disturb her as much as it did you.

“You’re playing with fire, little girl,” Wanda said, her voice low, but full of promise.

“Maybe,” you retorted, your own voice steadier than you expected. “But it definitely seems like you are too.”

For a moment, Wanda was silent, simply staring at you. The glow around her began to fade, but her eyes still burned with an intensity that made you tremble.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” Wanda murmured, more to herself than to you.

“Then show me,” you challenged, the words escaping before you could stop them.

Wanda took another step, now so close that you could feel her warmth, the soft scent of something sweet and spicy that seemed uniquely hers. The red glow around her disappeared completely, but the intensity in her eyes remained.

She tilted her head, a dark smile forming on her lips. “You’re really not afraid of me, are you?”

“Should I be?”

Wanda let out a short, humorless laugh. “Oh, you should. But something tells me you don’t learn until you feel it firsthand.”

Before you could process what was happening, Wanda raised her hand—not to touch you, but as if she were trying to summon something. Her eyes glowed intensely for a brief moment, but nothing happened. The power seemed to dissipate into the air before reaching you.

She frowned, confused, and tried again. Nothing.

“Interesting,” you remarked, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. “Seems like I’m not as easy to control as the others.”

Her irritation was evident, but there was something else in her eyes—a mix of fascination and frustration that made your heart race.

“You’re insufferable!” Wanda muttered, her voice laced with disdain but also a strange warmth that sent a shiver down your spine.

“And you’re a tyrant,” you shot back, knowing you were treading dangerous ground.

“A tyrant?” she repeated, letting out a quiet laugh. “If I were, you’d already be begging for mercy.”

“Maybe I want you to make me beg,” you replied without thinking.

Wanda fell silent, just staring at you. The red glow returned to her eyes for a moment, but she quickly suppressed it.

“I already told you to leave,” she said again, but this time her voice carried something deeper, more intimate.

You let out a small growl of frustration—like a puppy—and Wanda found it... endearing.

“And I said no!” You stepped closer to her. “I want to help... I’m pretty sure it’s not normal to see a woman throwing red energy balls around.”

As you rambled on, Wanda noticed something in your eyes that made her power waver, even weaken.

Wanda arched an eyebrow, the crimson glow fading momentarily, replaced by a sharp, cynical look. “Red energy balls?”

“Yes, red energy balls,” you retorted, crossing your arms. “That’s not exactly a typical classroom occurrence, is it?”

Wanda didn’t respond immediately. She leaned against her desk, arms crossed, as if assessing you. Despite her casual posture, her eyes dissected every movement, every nuance of your voice.

“And what do you suggest we do, little know-it-all?” she asked at last, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, holding her gaze with a determination that seemed to irritate her even more. “But pretending it’s not happening won’t solve anything.”

Silence filled the room again, and Wanda realized she was holding her breath. You weren’t backing down, and that unsettled her—not because you were annoying, but because she liked it. More than she should.

“You’re so irritating,” Wanda finally said, her voice low and controlled, as if trying to convince herself.

“You’ve already said that. Repeating yourself today, aren’t you?” you quipped back.

Her eyes flared red again, a flash of intense crimson that made the air around her heat up. “Watch your mouth, brat,” Wanda warned, her voice taking on a dangerous tone.

But you didn’t back away. Instead, you leaned in slightly, as if testing her limits. “Or what? You’ll throw another red energy ball at me?”

Wanda let out a short, humorless laugh, but something in her gaze faltered. It wasn’t fear or anger—something darker, more unspoken.

“You really have no idea what I am, do you?” she asked, a mix of exasperation and admiration in her tone.

“I’m waiting for you to explain.”

Wanda narrowed her eyes, tilting her head slightly as if weighing how much you really wanted to know. There was something in your defiant tone, in your unwavering gaze, that made her almost... trust. But trust wasn’t something Wanda Maximoff offered freely.

She sighed deeply, walking slowly toward her desk. Stopping beside it, she placed a firm hand on the wooden surface as her eyes wandered, searching for the right words to begin.

“I’m... more than I seem,” she started, her tone serious. “Much more.”

Her eyes locked on yours again, scrutinizing you, as if deciding whether to reveal what she was about to say.

“There’s a name some people have given me,” she continued, her fingers twitching slightly against the desk. “A name that, in other worlds, carries more weight than you can imagine. Scarlet Witch.”

You blinked, confused but intrigued. “Scarlet Witch? That sounds... conceptual.”

Wanda let out another short, humorless laugh. “It’s not just conceptual. It’s a prophecy. A myth. Something I never wanted, but somehow, I was forced to accept.”

“And what does it mean?” you asked, taking a small step forward.

“It means I’m a Nexus Being,” Wanda replied, her eyes beginning to glow faintly red again. “A unique entity across the multiverse. Someone with the power to alter realities, to shape the very fabric of time and space. But that... that power shouldn’t exist here.”

“Why not?” you asked, feeling a chill run down your spine as her tone darkened.

“Because in this universe, I wasn’t supposed to have powers,” Wanda admitted, her voice carrying a mix of anger and frustration. “I was meant to be an ordinary woman. A teacher. A mother. A wife.”

She paused, her gaze piercing.

“But something changed,” she continued, her voice growing rougher. “Something awakened in me. And I’m almost certain you’re part of it.”

Your heart raced, but you fought to keep your composure. “Me? What did I do?”

“It’s not what you did,” Wanda replied, stepping closer. “It’s what you are. Your presence here... it’s like a catalyst. Every time you challenge me, every time you confront me, it’s as if something inside me is trying to break free.”

“And what exactly is trying to emerge?” you asked, your voice quieter than you expected.

Wanda leaned in slightly, her eyes glowing with that burning red again. “The power. The control. The Scarlet Witch herself.”

She took a step back, distancing herself from you as if trying to regain control.

“In other worlds,” she began again, her voice calmer but still tense, “I was a figure of destruction. I did... unforgivable things. I manipulated entire realities. Created a perfect world for myself, where I had everything I wanted. But it all fell apart.”

You could tell she was speaking about something deeply personal, something that haunted her.

“And then, I was confronted. By other heroes. By people who believed they knew best. In the end, I had to undo everything. I had to destroy what I loved most.”

“What?” you asked, feeling a tightness in your chest.

“My children,” Wanda said simply, her voice trembling slightly. “Tommy and Billy. They were real to me. But not to the rest of the world. So I lost them. And I’ve lived with that ever since.”

You stayed silent, unsure of what to say.

“And now, here I am,” Wanda continued, her voice hardening again. “Trying to be something I’m not. Trying to be normal. But you... you’re making that impossible.”

“I don’t understand,” you finally said, your voice hesitant. “What did I do?”

“You challenge me,” Wanda replied, her eyes glowing again. “You force me to confront things I’d rather forget, because I can’t make you forget—I can’t manipulate you. And now... now, I’m not sure if I can control this anymore.”

The air around her began to vibrate, charged with energy.

“You should be afraid of me,” Wanda said, her voice low but intense. “Because if I lose control again, I don’t know what might happen.”

But you, with that stubbornness that seemed to both irritate and fascinate her, stepped forward and replied:

“Maybe I’m not afraid because I see something in you that you don’t see. Maybe I see someone who still has a choice. Someone who can be more than this... Scarlet Witch.”

Wanda remained silent, her eyes glowing with something that seemed like a mixture of admiration and frustration. And, for the first time, she didn’t know how to respond.

She stood frozen, your words echoing in her mind, reverberating in a way she couldn’t ignore. She felt your persistent gaze on her, but she couldn’t meet it. She needed to maintain control, to step back from the internal abyss that seemed to open every time you were near.

“Go, girl,” she finally said, her voice quieter than she intended, tinged with both farewell and warning. “And tell no one.”

You hesitated for a moment but eventually obeyed. The sound of the door closing behind you left Wanda alone in the room, the silence filling the empty space around her. But inside her, there was no silence.

She pressed her hands against the desk, her knuckles turning white from the effort.

“You’re losing control,” a seductive, low voice whispered in her mind. Wanda knew exactly what it was. It wasn’t someone from outside—it was a part of herself, a side she had buried long ago.

“No. I’m in control,” Wanda replied softly, as if trying to convince herself.

“You call this control?” the voice mocked, a soft laugh resonating in her mind. “Look at you. Trembling. Afraid. That girl got to you in a way no one else ever has, hasn’t she? Do you really think you can resist this? Resist me?”

Wanda stepped away from the desk, walking to the office window, trying to find a fixed point on the horizon to anchor her thoughts. But there was no escape.

The Scarlet Witch was there, inside her, drawing closer, growing stronger.

“I am you,” the voice continued, this time more primal, almost animalistic. “And you know you want me back. Stop fighting what we are. What we can be.”

“I don’t want you,” Wanda replied, closing her eyes tightly.

“Liar.” The voice was a whisper, but it seemed to fill the entire space around her. “You feel it, Wanda. The power. The freedom. You’ve never been more alive than when I was in control. And now, that girl... she’s the spark. She’s calling us back.”

Wanda took a deep breath, but it didn’t calm her. Her hands were trembling, and the air around her felt electrified. She knew her powers were awakening again, harder and harder to contain.

“Stop fighting me,” the Scarlet Witch insisted. “Accept who you are. Who we are. You know I’m right.”

“No,” Wanda murmured, but her voice sounded weak, almost pleading.

“You’re afraid,” the voice observed, amused. “But not of me. You’re afraid that deep down, you like this. That you need this. The freedom, the power, the intensity. And, most of all... her.”

Wanda opened her eyes, now glowing with a threatening red light. She stepped away from the window, walking to the center of the office as if she needed to move to escape the storm brewing inside her.

“She’s not part of this,” Wanda said aloud, as if trying to assert her authority over the voice within.

“Oh, she’s everything,” the Scarlet Witch replied, a light laugh escaping her. “She’s the key. Every time she challenges you, every time she gets closer... you feel it, don’t you? The heat, the energy, the desire.”

“Shut up!” Wanda shouted, her voice reverberating through the office. A wave of red energy pulsed around her, the furniture trembling under the force of her power.

The silence returned, but Wanda knew it wouldn’t last. The Scarlet Witch was there, waiting, like a predator patiently circling its prey.

Wanda sank into the chair, pressing her hands against her temples. She needed to think, needed to find a way to regain control. But the dilemma remained: the more she fought the Scarlet Witch, the more she felt herself slipping into her.

And deep down, what scared her most was the possibility that maybe—just maybe—she didn’t want to fight anymore.

[...]

The Sanctum Sanctorum was quieter than usual. The air was filled with the occasional sound of pages turning and the rustling of the Sorcerer Supreme’s cloak as he inspected a series of ancient artifacts spread across a table. At the center, the Eye of Agamotto glowed faintly, pulsing in shades of green and gold as Strange carefully traced a line between dimensions on a holographic map of the multiverse.

“Finally,” he murmured to himself, his fingers tightening around the artifact. His expression was more tense than usual, a shadow of worry flickering in his eyes.

Wong entered the room, carrying a hefty grimoire. “You found her?”

Strange nodded, his demeanor grave. “Yes. The Scarlet Witch is hiding in a universe we can barely access. She’s weakened, but she’s still dangerous. If she regains her strength, she could become a threat worse than before.”

Wong crossed his arms, his expression wary. “And how exactly do you plan to capture her? I doubt she’ll come willingly if we call.”

Strange gave a brief, humorless smile. “I don’t plan to capture her. I know someone who can.”

~*~

Mommy is coming back!!!

Tag list <3

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@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580 @valentine585

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @sheriffswan-blog @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000

[isa-ghost]

I think my final stance on the cQuackity finale is:

Should it have been done? Eeh. But is it valid to want to revamp what was previously done because the time period the prev happened in kinda sucked? Absolutely. As an artist, writer, and veteran roleplayer with 13+ years experience, I 100% understand why Q redid it and I respect that. He also has every right to close off the chapter of his mcrp journey that involved those shit people, especially Mr. Racist Ringleader, the way he did.

And with that in mind, the finale we got was the best it could be given... *stares at how, again, half the ccs involved with cQ's story suck.* Quackity shouldn't have to sit unhappy with something he did just bc he can't conclude it to the full extent it could've/should've been. I would've loved for him to be able to unpack everything he should've been able to. It just isn't possible bc people suck. At least Q cares enough to want to redo it in the first place, even if the redo maybe isn't better or whatever. Caring enough to redo it at all is more than could be said for quite a few ex dsmp members. :/

It 100% fit the character and people are being way too pearl clutchy about how not every character gets a happy ending. Listen man, I'm sick of mcrp stories ending with "and then I killed myself" too (/gen), but in cQ's case at least it's fitting. I haven't seen a single person that's mad about the ending suggest a better "happy" alternative that fits cQ as a character or is a choice cQ would Actually make. I'm not gonna write another whole analysis about why the ending makes sense again, go find that post. I could say more over there if it matters that much to someone, but I'm not gonna argue about it.

Also this might shock some people: *gasp* Quackity can do what he fucking wants with his characters. That doesn't mean you have to like it. What the fuck ever happened to "don't like it? Don't interact"?? I'm so tired.

I liked the finale and I think it fit cQ. It's not perfect by any means, but of the finales we've gotten after the tension of dsmp's fallout died down, it's a decent one.

People need to chill the fucking hell out, they have been WAY too hostile about the finale. I've seen people call Q a garbage writer, wishing he'd go broke, that he doesn't care about any of this (despite the fact that he was NEARLY IN TEARS because of how much these stories mean to him, especially cQ), that it was a ruse to plug merch, etc. Absolutely ice cold heartless garbage takes about Quackity. And some of them are from blogs who are supposedly fans of his bc their entire BLOG is decorated with him!!! Those are fucking nuts things to say about a guy you supposedly like!!!! You don't know someone's OC better than they do. Period. Fuck you, cope. I can't fucking stand people who feel entitled like that.

Anyway if you start shit on this post or with me I'm just blocking you. I'm not here to argue about this shit man, I'm just sick of people being so black&white and overly critical of shit so I wanted to air out the thoughts buzzing around in my mind so they stop driving me crazy.

Shout out to everyone who's actually capable of being nuanced and fairly critical of things they like without being a total fucking asshole that blows shit out of proportion and takes every little thing in bad faith to the furthest extreme.

[wanderers-archive]

Hi, Raze! How are you? Are you doing well and taking care of yourself? 🥺

I have a request for you since I saw you had it open, but take your time with it, no need to rush 🫂

Can I get one 🍮 with some 💧 for Xiao and a reader who is just feeling insecure about themselves in general (it's one of those days)? You can choose the flavour for whatever is comfortable with you 🤗

Thank you, and just know that you're doing amazing and I'm proud of you for always doing your best <3

Mistakes

Genre: angst, comfort┆pairing: Xiao x reader┆warnings: reader degrading herself, readers mother keeps degrading reader towards everything they do. Crying (if there's more please let me know🙏💕)┆

notes: I had an idea for this a long time ago but I didn't know how to do it properly😭 so here I am, a few months late doing this😖😖. I got carried away and I didn't read your ask properly😭😭 it's supposed to be readers own thought not someone else making reader insecure, so sorry lost I got your request wrong, just ask me again if you want me to redo it, did the first part at like midnight and I was already halfway when I looked back on it 💔💔

Summary:being at one of your family gatherings alone was always sormthing you never looked forward to, even if you did miss your siblings, being the center of attention at the dinning table once all of your relatives took their seat, had tears in your eyes, always saying something about your body, how no man wanted you, how you would never satisfy your boyfriend with how ugly your body looked.

'You look horrendous in those types of clothes ___, did you really think your 'boyfriend' would feel satisfied by your body, I mean you can't even dress properly and act submissive now and you expect him to love you?'.

Those words said by your own mother ringing in your ears on your way home, had tears brimming in your eyes.

They had asked you if you had a boyfriend, you nodded slowly expecting them to berate you, surprisingly they had bakced off and wished you well with xiao. Sitting at the dinner table had more tension then ever before,

"well.. ____, since you have a boyfriend now, when will you introduce him to us" your grandmother started the conversation,

"um, well, maybe in the near future but not now, since hes very busy and his work is very demanding.. " you had kept your gaze on your plate before hearing a bang on the table and the food om your plate lightly lifting off the table

"____! Where are your manners?! Your grandmother is talking to you! Can't you look her in the eyes and show some respect! " your mother screamed at you as your other relatives just kept quiet or looked at you with concern since this was the first time they saw your mother act this way towards you.

Seing that you were visibly shaken, your grandmother interrupts your mother from speaking any further and put her hand over yours.

"____ dear, I think it's time for you to go home and rest, you look like you have been tired, if you want you can call your boyfriend and pick you up? " your grandmother had spoken to you with her gentle voice that comforted you everytime your mother had .

You nodded to your grandmother, before your mother had uttured out a single word, you grabbed your bag and walked out of the house.

Before you went out the door, you heard muffled shouts in the dinner room, you had made out what they were talking about.

"Why did you say that to your child!? Are you out of your mind!" That was the last thing you heard before you walked away from the house you called home.

.

.

Now you're back in your shared home, laying on your bed trying to hold back your tears. You spot your mirror in the corner of your room, walking towards the reflective surface with you in the middle of it. Lifting up your shirt, you look at your stomach, you hated the way it made you look bloated in tight shirts.

You stare at yourself with disgust and frustration, coming closer to the mirror, inspecting every inch of your face seeing the flaws your mother pointed out throughout your entire life.

Your vision becomes blurry from the tears pooling your eyes, wiping your tears away but they kept coming back. You lost your balance and fell down on the floor, sitting on the floor for a few minutes trying to calm your self down. You took deep breaths as you fiddled with your fingers, you looked around the room spotting the clock, the time almost midnight so you wiped your tears for the last time and stood up with shaky breathing and walked to your bedside table, picking up the glass of water and drinking it before you layed down ok your bed, covering your self with the blanket.

You closed your eyes trying to fall asleep yet failing, your mind wanders back to the reunion, thinking about what your mother said and how none of your other relatives defended you from her, only your grandmother had defended you from the person who swore to love you until the end of her life when she gave birth to you.

Hiccups and sobs could be heared throughout your shared bedroom as xiao opened your front door, he was expecting you to come up to him and greet him like always. Xiao walked further into the living to see if you had fallen asleep, seeing as you weren't in the living room, he walked towards your bedroom to hear mumbled sobs.

Xiao had gently opened the door to avoid waking you up if you had fallen asleep, instead he was greeted with the sight of you hugging a pillow while shaking, he had froze in front of the door, not knowing what to do, he walked towards you and sat down by the edge of the bed.

Feeling the bed sink by your feet, you looked towards the edge of the bed to see Xiao sitting down not facing you and looking at the floor.

"Oh.. Xiao your back, how are you? And why are you sitting at the edge of the bed?" You had reached out for him, grabbing his forearm and pulling it towards you softly, making Xiao lean towards you, flinching at his hand reaching to your face, specifically your eyes, had xiao becoming concerned, as they were surrounded by a red hue looking as if you had finished crying.

"____, did...Something happen at your family reunion? " Xiao held your hand, his gaze towards you had soften and trying to tone down his voice..

" no, nothing went –*hic* went wrong at the reunion" you towards your bedside table with a red and puffy eyes. '' you're lying because your eyes say a different story....if you don't mind, do you want to talk about it with me? I know I might not know what to do, but maybe...you'll feel better if you talk about it to me?" Xiao placed his hand on top of yours, trying to comfort you the best he can.

You didn't respond for a good few seconds, contemplating if you should or shouldn't say to him what your mother had said to you at the reunion,eventually, you agreed to talk to xiao about what happened at the reunion.

A few tears were shed by you as you recalled what had happened at the reunion, as much as xiao wasn't much on the comforting side, he was great at the listening side even if he couldn't comfort the best way, but his way of comforting was your best way of comforting and you wouldn't want to replace it with others.

Towards the end of your story, xiao looked a little angry or frustrated, maybe both. "What's wrong Xiao? " your voice was above a whisper, an eerie silence filled the room as Xiao still haven't replied to you, instead he held your hand and rubbed the back of your palm.

"... If you have anymore of those events you call 'family reunion', make sure to call me. I will accompany you so your mother won't be able to say such words to you. " Xiao raised your hand close to his lips, kissing the Beck of your palm, you just stared at him while your mind was formulating a response to his words he directed towards you.

Sobs left your lips as you hung your head low, your tears falling onto the blanket covering your lap. You didn't know what to say, so you nodded your head signaling that you agreed to let him come with you to any family related events.

After you calmed down, you though about what Xiao said earlier when you were crying, specifically the last part. 'I will accompany you so your mother won't be able to say such words to you' you know that Xiao dislikes crowds and events with lots of people he doesn't quite know. "... Are you sure you want to come to every family event? I know how much you hate crowds and such, I don't want you to come and feel uncomfortable" you close your eyes for a few seconds, feeling them become sore because of your tears.

"I do not mind being uncomfortable but I also don't want you to hear words that make you think thoughts that make you dislike parts of your body" Xiao placed his hand on your cheek—showing the side that only you can see once in a while—he gently caresses your eye, wiping the tears left over from you crying.

He gently pulls you closer, patting your hair as if he was lulling you to sleep and since you just finished crying and all the events that happened, you fell asleep almost immediately.

Once xiao felt that you were asleep, he layed you down on the bed and covered you with the blanket. Xiao just sat next to you, looking at you while you sleep, he abruptly stood up thinking that he was creepy for staring at you when you were sleeping, he walked inside the bathroom and washed up since his body was splattered with dry blood.

After he washed up, he sat on the opposite side of you on the bed. Xiao layed down next to you and admired you when you suddenly opened your eyes to look at Xiao in front of you. "I thought you had fallen asleep?" Xiao was taken aback and giggles left your lips when you saw xiao's reaction. "How should I fall asleep when someone so handsome keeps looking at me while I sleep? " you tease Xiao while you come closer, putting your hand on his red hued cheeks, meanwhile, xiao just closes his eyes tightly and grumbles that you should just fall asleep. "Alright, alright. I'll sleep now, just promise me, when I'll wake up you'll be next to me. " you take your hand away from his cheeks and lay on your back, facing that ceiling closing your eyes, trying to fall asleep. "I promise, even when you're awake, I'll be here next to you" xiao takes your hand in his and places a tender kiss.

Permanent taglist: @thelost-in-time

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[cakepoppresent]

24 Screenshots of '24 <3

Heyo,

I was tagged by @enniewritesathing and @euphiesims to share my favourite screenshots from 2024. I will try to make this nice and neat! and in no particular order (I'm going to put most of it under the cut so I don't spam up people's dashboards!)

I also tag @jayveesim @jayplaysims @weirdosalike @citylighten @matchalovertrait @pamsimmer and anyone else who wants to do it!!

Blair and Brayden Date Night. - I took them out on a date after everything with Grayson and Gideon died down. Blair was worried that it was a mistake having her kids all live in San My without their parents and Brayden was trying to calm her down

Xavier and his little crew - I love these little munchkins so much.

Brayden Visiting his son - Grayson spent Sulani alone trying to center himself and get his head on straight again. There isn't anything really special BUT I just liked how it looked. I liked that Grayson's father made sure he was doing okay. He even suggested therapy, Grayson refused but Blair and Brayden still have that therapist on speed dial just in case lol

Grayson walking home alone - I liked this shot a lot because I don't think I made it clear how Grayson has never been alone. Gideon has ALWAYS been by his side (or his siblings) so I thought it would be nice to get this shot of him being alone

Apollo - I just think Apollo is sexy af and you should all think the same thing

Bunny Sam - was playing around with Gshade and I just think she's sexy af. Y'all should think she's sexy too. Thx

Dancing Grayson - Grayson dancing to Nasty by Tinashe 😂 he just looked so cute

Miss. Luna V - my sis doesn't yearn but gets yearned for and she likes the feeling. That's a look thats giving "yeah I know you love me why wouldn't you"

Yearning Loser - Benji is so in love with Malcolm. It's embarrassing for him but he just loved being around him. That's his family

Malcolm and Veronica - Nothing really, I just thought they look good and Malcolm works out a lot autonomously so I wanted to show it off

Veronica and Brayden - Future father and daughter business duo in the making. Veronica just looks so good as a business woman. I can't see her as anything else and her dad in the background supporting like he should

Su and Grayson - What could have been! In another timeline where Gideon doesn't exist they would have had a chance. Unfortunately this is all in Su's mind. Poor baby

The Reeves!!! - the family I've been playing for over a year. They are my everything and I'm so happy I made them! They are so beautiful

Xavier's stank face - I like his stank face because it supports my head cannon that Xavier and Veronica are much more similar in personality. Xavier just knows how to hide it better 😂

Unfriendly Black hotties - Luna up until this point as always been smiling and amicable but I love seeing her mad and looking upset. She looks so good

Hopelessly Devoted To You - They are currently on a break but that doesn't stop Gideon from staring at Grayson like nothing has changed. TBH Gideon thinking about how to get Grayson pregnant

Nothing to say - It's Luna looking regal and gorgeous as always. Daiksue so lucky I'm not giving him a love rival (I fucking should)

The Villareal Twins - I just like them and I don't have enough pics of them together

Rainy Nights - this is probably my favorite animation and I love the ambience and the lighting of this screenie so much. I just love them so much

Can you tell who my favorite couple is? Lol. I dunno this was after Malcom and Luna got into a fight. Malcolm went straight home and flew right into Benji's arms. He won't admit it but he loves being in Benji's arms

Taking a break - I wanna redo this scene because I felt like I didn't actually convey what I needed to convey. But I just love how dependent they are on each other even when going through their relationship woes

Taking care of his lady - Luna tried it and Daisuke wasn't having it. He wasn't gonna leave without setting the record straight with his future wife

My Munchkins - please. They are so cute and I had so much fun playing them! Also Xavier's face is so funny here

There was a challenge for simstwt a supernatural theme. I used Sam and Apollo and played around with lighting. I really liked how it turned out

[kromeihl]

New Target 🎯 UNLOCKED

╰┈➤ Jax x Female!Reader

WARNING(s): Not Proofread

Headphones on.

They're on all right. But, this was odd.

"Sir...Why am I feeling a bit dizzy..? Is this part of the online interview with the client?"

Silence, just silence.

"S-Sir..?"

I couldn't move my head, my body, literally. Why was everything in the room blurry and getting doubled? The room was spinning, and the only thing I could focus on was the bright screen of the monitor placed in front of me.

The monitor looked old, dirty in fact. There was rust on the side and it was only visible due to the fact that it was white.

I closed my eyes for a few seconds, thinking it was right to do so. Just so the dizziness would disappear.

But— Why was everything so... colorful all of a sudden?

I could hear voices behind me, but all I could think of was my colorful surroundings.

I felt lighter than usual.

"Caine, is this one of your NPCs? Or is this a new sucker?"

I hear someone spoke up, I turned around to notice all different kinds of...What are they..? Characters?

I stared in shock, unable to speak.

"Cause if it's a new character.. We're gonna have to redo this whole theme song!"

It says, somehow frustrated. "I'm not doing that again." Another one spoke.

"What the $%#!?"

Everyone turned their heads to me. Seriously, this is how it feels when all eyes are on you?!

I stood in pure silence, feeling a bit embarrassed. I shouldn't have spoken too soon.

"There's two of 'em?" The rabbit spoke again.

"There's two of me?" I ask, feeling weirded out. "He meant the two of you." A red head spoke, pointing at me and another character that dressed up as a jester.

I nod once before observing each one of them, this one is gonna be some weird day.

...

"No. I don't think I want a tour." I wave my hands in front of the teeth man.

"Come on, it'll be fun! You wouldn't be able to have an adventure if you're not aware of your surroundings—" He proceeds to convince.

"No thanks. I'd like to explore more...By myself?" I laugh awkwardly. If I were a "new human" in this place, I would not like to have a tour at all.

"Oh well." He shrugs, flying to the poor female jester and disappearing into thin air.

"Hi there new one, you feelin' okay?" The red head approached me, putting her soft doll hand on my shoulder.

"I feel funny. Are you sure this is real?" I look at her with desperation. I'm not insane but I'm desperate to find out the truth. What if the jester girl was right? What if this is a dream?

"Sorry, but it is. Oh, and don't try to pull out your body parts like that weirdo a while ago. Or you could, I see those headsets on ya." The purple rabbit spoke with a sly smirk.

I put my hands on my head, trying to find the headset but it wasn't on. "Haha! Just kiddin'! You really believed me?" He grins. I sigh in frustration, the red head arguing with the rabbit.

"Quit trying to play with her, Jax! Leave her alone, instead of welcoming her, you're making her want to leave more!" The doll argues meanwhile the purple rabbit just rolls his eyes.

"It's all right. I don't mind." I smile awkwardly. The red head faces me, offering her hand to shake.

"I'm Ragatha." She introduces herself. I smile, taking her hand. Before I could reply, the teeth man and jester girl came back.

I stare as the jester girl vomits. The rest of the characters staring as well. A bubble popped up and started licking the vomit..

Weird.

"Wait.. Wait! Was that an exit door I saw out there? Is that a way to leave?" The jester girl spoke up.

"What exit?" Jax spoke up, taking the other character's hand and using it as a back scratcher.

"If there was a way to leave, I'm pretty sure we all would've left by now." The hand gets out of Jax's grasp, starting to strangle him in the process.

"Yeah..What are you talking about?" The other character furrows her brows.

The teeth man starts talking about how the jester girl was just experiencing "Digital Hallucinations." While denying the fact, he still believes she is experiencing them.

He switches the topic by asking her name. She starts panicking not knowing her name..Not REMEMBERING her name.

Hold on, if she doesn't remember her name..It means..I don't remember mine as well.

"My name.." I mumble, earning a hum from beside me. "You forgot your name, too, didn't you?" Ragatha smiled softly. "I did." I admitted. No way, how coulf I forget my own name!

The teeth man suddenly makes a giant machine appear, helping out the jester girl pick out a new name. "What do you think of XDDCC?"

"I don't—" She gets caught off. "Right! Terrible! Let's try that again!" He let's the machine spin again.

"What do you think of Pomni?"

She agrees to the name awkwardly. Poor Pomni, she still looks so troubled. "Hey Caine, what about this one over here." Jax says with his arms crossed.

"Right! What about you? What do you want?" So..His name was Caine.

"Uhh, you can pi—"

"Okay! Let's pick again!"

I narrow my eyebrows, he cuts people off so easily!

"Oooh, candy! What do you think?" He floats closer to me. By closer, literally in front of my face.

"S-sure?" I forcefully smile. "Great!" He flies over to Pomni who was trying to walk away.

"Candy suits you!" Ragatha smiles. "Nah, she doesn't even look sweet." Jax clears his throat. "Gosh, and your name is Jax! You look like your name would be Sadism." I argue back.

"Ohoho, I can throw you away like candy wrapper. Don't fuel up the fire." Jax smirks as he raises his brow. "But I think I'm starting to want to ruin your days here. Or years." He shrugs.

"I'll make yours even worst."

"Oh look Zooble, new target unlocked. I got some competition." Jax nudges Zooble's side. "Great, so your $%!# wouldn't be around ours any longer." She replies, not wanting to be a part of the conversation.

"I'll be on your tail, Candy. If you don't mind." Jax crosses his arm, standing tall. "Oh, and I'll be on yours, you rabbit." I narrow my eyebrows. "That wasn't really an insult. I could throw you away like Candy wrapper." He argues.

"Oho, but you can get a taste of this sweet Candy first." I argue back. His face shifts to surprise before another demeanor. "Whatever you say, remember, Caine said to keep it child friendly."

"Whatever rabbit."

"All right, sour candy."

"Now good luck and have fun my little superstars!" Caine says, before disappearing into thin air.

Pomni stares at all of us in silence before speaking up.

"What did any of that mean?"

I look over at Ragatha, then Jax.

"I didn't listen."

The rabbit roles his eyes. "You're doing bad on your first day."

"And you're annoying me pretty much on my first day."

"Good to know."

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

so you’re taking requests. . . 😳 how do we feel about a fic with Luz just being a biiig softie? he’s such a wiseass all the time, I’d love to see your take on him maybe being more vulnerable and relaxed and emotional in an x reader if you’re up for it (I love the way you were able to characterize Liebgott in your most recent fic) <3 fluff, angst, smut or any other angle you’d wanna go with, totally up to you!

In her arms - George Luz x F!Reader

Okay, so I had already had an idea like this in my drafts and squealed when I read your request! I really, really hope I did him justice and this is what you want/like! If you want a redo please let me know! <3 Please enjoy @littleyankspitfire :)

Summary: George accompanies Malarkey into town after the bombing in Bastogne, needing to see Reader before he entirely falls apart.

Warnings: angst, mentions of war/death/violence, cursing, George is a frazzled mess and just needs to be held, fluffy ending.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt 2: I was going to make this have smut but the more I wrote the more I just wanted him to be cuddled and loved. George deserves so much. Might think of a way to do a part 2 with some lovin' for our boy. I hope y'all enjoy this! Please comment, like, reblog <3 <3 <3

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George and Malarkey entered the medic tent like zombies. Neither speaking, just going off of some internal compass pointing them towards their desired destination. Malarkey veers off to the right where Buck is laying on a cot, his eyes as vacant as theirs. George wanders up and down the rows, looking for a familiar face but starts to lose hope when he comes up short. Eventually he gently grabs the arm of a nurse walking by.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for someone." He gives her name and waits.

"Who's asking?" She gives him a skeptical stare and straightens her back.

"I'm George Luz with Easy Company. We're friends." He watches as she relaxes.

"Oh, I've heard of you. She's suppose to be resting for a few hours. Down the road on the left, third building, second floor, first door on the right." She gives him a quick smile and then hurries off in the direction she was originally going.

George follows her direction and soon enough, he's in front of the door. Two deep breathes later and he gives a sharp knock. He waits a beat and then knocks again, calling out to her. There's sounds of movement inside the room and then the door is pulled open. For a moment George feels guilty, having obviously disturbed her much needed nap, but the way he feels like he can finally breathe after seeing her chases the guilt away.

"Hey doll." He tries for his usual upbeat greeting but it comes out almost painful. Her eyes scan his face, a deep frown forming.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but doesn't know what to say. Everything is wrong. Physically I'm fine but everything else is hurt. Before he can finish his thought, his vision is blurred with tears and a quiet sob escapes. As the next one slips out, he's partially falling/being pulled into her arms and maneuvered to the bed.

She situates them so that her back is against the headboard with him draped half on her and half on the bed, head on her torso as more sobs rack his body. The scene is enough to make her own eyes mist over. This isn't the George she knows; he's always the optimistic one with a quick joke or wisecrack to push the darkness away and bring a smile to everyone's faces. Having him cling to her like she's a lifetime and he's drowning makes her worry that this war has finally taken the last bit of light from someone she never thought would lose it. And that terrifies her.

Instead of pressing him to speak, she lets him purge his emotions out while running her fingers through his hair and offering soothing sounds. Eventually his tears start to slow and he focuses on evening out his breathing. She keeps running her fingers through his hair, letting him decide if he wants to talk or not. When he does start to speak, his voice still holds a quiver but the longer he talks, the stronger it becomes. He talks about everything that happened; how what happened with Buck, Guarnere and Toye was still fresh and effecting the company, that the bombings that just happened killed Much and Penkala right in front of him, how if he'd made it to their foxhole he would have been killed, how him and Lipton nearly did die and were only saved by a faulty wire in the bomb that landed right in front of them.

As he spoke, her heart broke again and again over his loses (hers too as she was also friends with this men) and her anxiety grew as he told her about his not once, but twice back to back near death experience. Being in the middle of a war you come to terms with the high probability that you will die, but holding someone and listening to their recount of it nearly happening is not something you can prepare for. Once he's done relaying everything, a heavy silence follows, both of them lost in their thoughts and feelings of the events.

Slowly, George lifts himself from laying on her, moving up on the bed so he's leaning back on the headboard next to her. He grabs one of her hands that is now in her lap and laces their fingers together.

"I thought of you." He keeps his eyes on their interlocked hands, running his thumb back and forth over her soft skin. He see's her turn her head to look at him out of the corner of his eye.

"What do you mean?" She asks when he doesn't look like he's going to continue.

"When I was looking at that bomb at my feet, waiting for it to go off and finish me. You hear of other people that go through near death experiences and they see their life flash before their eyes. That's what I thought was going to happen, that I'd see my family and hometown and family dog. I'd remember all the big and small things I did, things I'd forgotten about. But that didn't happen. Instead, all I could think about was you. How you always make me work for a real laugh from you but I usually get a playful smile and eyeroll, how your tongue peaks out of the corner of your mouth when you're focused on finishing a wrapping or stitch just right, how you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen especially covered in dirt, how I wanted to kiss you that night by the lake when I told you the moonlight in your hair made you look like a goddess but I was too scared." George turns his head to meet her eyes.

"Why are you telling me this?" She whispers.

"Because I'm scared in a different way now. I was scared of starting something when this war could take either of us away at any moment. But after that bomb, all I'm scared of is dying without ever knowing what we could have. Never being able to kiss or hold you like I want. Never telling you that...I love you." George turns enough to face her, maintaining eye contact as he slowly leans his head towards her. "Tell me you don't feel the same. Tell me I'm just losing my mind and I'll leave."

"I love you too, George. However long we have left on this Earth, I want us to be together." She squeezes his hand that was still holding hers and puts her free one on his cheek. The smile that breaks out across his face isn't his usual smirk or something goofy to get a laugh, but a true pure smile that warms her heart. Sending him a matching smile, she tilts her head up and closes the gap between their lips.

The kisses are slow and sweet, almost tentative. Neither of them wanting to break the small bubble of peach they'd crafted around themselves. As they keep up their light exploration of each others mouths, they shift lower onto the bed so they're laying on their sides, wrapped up in each others arms. She pulls back slightly, taking in his soft smile and sleepy eyes, and gives him a quick peck.

"Rest with me a little bit?"

"Long as I get to hold you." He kisses her lips again, then the top of her head before resting his his head on top of hers, holding her as close as possible against himself.

Just as he's drifting off to sleep, he thinks: this is how I want to die, wrapped up in her arms.

[queen-of-the-misfit-toys]

BEND

Warnings: 18+, roleplay, corporal punishment/caning, sexy times

Word count: around 1k

Summary: Roleplay with Benedict and his "student". Just a little Kinktober fun.

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You sit nervously in his office, twisting your fingers as he pours over your assignment.

Every few moments he looks up over his glasses to glare at you. Finally, he leans back with a sigh.

“You know, Ms. Y/L/N, it's a damn shame we are no longer allowed to administer corporal punishment because this travesty of a paper certainly calls for it.”

“Is it really that bad, Professor?”

“That bad? THAT BAD? My dear girl, you should be ashamed to attach your name to it. I'm ashamed on your behalf since you don't have the sense to be. I'm not sure what language that was. I recognize the letters but it's certainly not English.”

You stare at your shoes as he rounds the desk to sit on the edge in front of you.

“Why are you here, Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Because you told me to come after class.” You answer, a little confused.

He runs his hand down his face and slowly huffs.

“That's not what I meant. Why are you at university? You turn in shoddy work when you even deign to come to class. You don't listen. You don't take notes. I can tell you don't study. Why even waste your time, and mine, here?”

“My father insists, sir. He wants me to take over his business someday.”

“Do you think he's going to be pleased when you are expelled for poor grades? Because you are heading down that path.”

“Does he have to know? There's no reason for him to know.” You exclaim, panicking now.

“I'm sure he'll find out when the dean starts the procedure to formally remove you from classes.”

“Does the dean need to know?”

“I have to report this assignment grade to him. This is well below our standards and he must be informed.” He says while rolling up his sleeves.

“Please, Professor Bridgerton, I'll do anything for you not to report me! Please!”

He looks you up and down a few times, causing you to flush. Whether from fear or arousal you can't tell.

“Have you ever been caned, Ms. Y/L/N?”

You feel the blood drain from your face.

“I'd say not judging from your reaction. If you take six of the best, as we used to say, on your bare bottom right now I will let you redo this assignment. You'd have one week.”

“Just six? That's all? I can take that.” You murmur.

“Oh my dear one, you really have never been caned have you?” He chuckles. “Stand up now, facing the desk. Let's get on with it.”

He rounds behind you and grabs the hem of your skirt, tucking it into your waistband.

“Pull your panties down to your ankles.”

You slowly tug them down your legs, looking at him while you do.

With a smile, he bids you place your hands on the desk.

“Are you ready, Ms. Y/L/N?” He asks.

You nod.

“Good.” He says, sliding his hand over your bottom. “Bend.”

You start to slide your feet back until you can comfortably bend over the desk, looking back over your shoulder for his approval.

“Good girl. Just a little more. I want your bottom nice and high.”

You shuffle a little, arching your back so he has full access to every bit of your backside.

“Wonderful.” He whispers in your ear. “ Now spread your legs shoulder width apart.”

You hesitate, not wanting him to see just how much this is affecting you.

“Come on now, Ms. Y/L/N. No need to be shy. I'm going to see everything once you start writhing from the pain anyway.”

You slide your feet apart, causing your back to arch even more. You can't believe how open you feel. Not to mention you can feel his gaze trained between your thighs.

“So so beautiful. Now stay still and count for me.”

In the next moment you feel a searing pain cut across your cheeks. It takes your breath but you manage to sneak out “One.”

“One what?”

“One, Sir.”

He gives you no time to recover before lashing another line into your flesh.

“Two, Sir.”

You can feel the tears start to run down your face as he taps lightly before striking you again.

“Three, Sir.”

“You are doing so well for your first time, my dear.” He soothes as he walks over and gently cups one sore cheek. He whispers more words of comfort in your ear as he massages each cheek in turn, before straightening to finish.

“Three more, my girl. Can you handle that?”

You offer no words, just lifting your bottom high for his cane.

You cry out as your skin is lined again.

“Four, Sir.”

“Do not scream again. I'll add more if you do.” He warns before lashing down.

You manage to stay quiet, only softly murmuring, “Five, Sir.”

“This last one is going to hurt. I'll give you a moment to gather yourself.”

You can't imagine how much worse it could be until it lands across your blistered skin, buckling your knees.

“Six, Sir.” You whimper.

“I am impressed, Ms. Y/L/N. I really didn't think you could take it. Now get yourself together and go start redoing this assignment. One week.”

He inspects your bruises and welts before smacking you again, causing you to groan, and declaring you fine.

“One week.” He reiterates as he walks out of his office.

“How did I do, Darling?” He whispers, sticking his head back inside the room to check on you.

“You were marvelous, my love!” You exclaim, grabbing him in a kiss. “You play the part so well. Now how about finishing the job.”

He laughs as he spins you around in front of him.

“Bend.”

[crazyk-imagine]

Colt Seavers Headcanon

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- You met through Dan and Gail (unfortunately)

- You met Dan because you were tired of dealing with the idiot stuntman coordinators and then came your saving grace and new bestie

- You two became as thick as thieves, if you couldn’t get him in the budget, there would be no movie 

- Gail came into play when her perfect little munchkin needed a movie to be in

- Therefore those two have known you since your young years essentially

- You had been filming smaller lesser known films that took off once your big hit "Stitches: Don't be a Snitch" which started off as a joke film because it was an idea you've always wanted to make

- Then came in Tom Ryder, he thought it was a good film 

- Gail knew staring in this odd of a film would boost his career because people would invest in it and wonder why he did it

- Then came in Dan for the movie, who you then tried to hook up with one of your girlfriends, although they never worked out, you stayed close as ever

- He told you he had the perfect stunt man for the job, cue Colt

- He had such a "Kenergy" vibe to him, you couldn't get rid of him, especially when he pulled off your stunts

- You hated how perfect he did it and how he fed into your ideas, stunt guys aren't supposed to be like this, so- ugh

- Dan snickers every time because he knew, he knew you felt something for Colt and vice versa

- Then came the bonding, you grew close to Colt, flirting with him and building a bond

- That all went away the day of his accident

- You couldn't bear to leave him but Gail- Gail was nothing but insistent when it came to making her precious little cherub rich and her more famous

- You stayed with Colt as often as you could when he had his surgery and got out, made his appointments for rehab and physical therapy, when he got cleared

- Food was always in his fridge, his apartment was always semi clean (the dishes were put up and the floor was always swept clean)

- Then it stopped, he stopped calling, answering (his phone and door), just- he disappeared

- You tried as much as you could to stay with him but took the hint he didn't want help of any kind from anyone and left him alone, much to your despair

- Then after catching your big break, you didn't think about him as much but he came across your mind every so often

“Do these stunt guys suck to you?” 

Dan glances to the side, clearing his throat, “a little.” 

You nod. ‘Stupid Colt’

- Dan always kept you company and became more like your annoying big brother whom you want to fight every two minutes

- Gail was still a bitch but you learned to tolerate her and her little project

- You always hated first reads, you wanted to stab your eyeballs out with pencils every time

“Can I just use this now?” You hold the pencil in front of him. 

Dan shakes his head, “no.”

- Cue Colts return, to say you were shocked was an understatement

- You made him work for it, starting from redoing stunts and informing him of the back story, to texting every so often

- He was still an adorable little shit, ughhhh

- Then came him being framed for murder, that was a shocker especially when he could never kill a spider or cockroach in your room

You nearly cried hearing his voice when he called and explained everything

"What? Colt- colt," you hear the gunshots. "Where are you? What's going on?"

You can hear the smile in his voice as he confesses, "I was scared. I didn't think it was okay to come back to work, much less do it with you by my side."

He chuckles, "I couldn't let you down, that- you know that would kill me. God, you don’t know how much it killed me to not answer. "

He sniffs, "I've been in love with you since we met on your first big hit movie, you know. I- I couldn't go without saying that because you deserved to know."

Your lip wobbles, "Colt?" You whisper. Your vision is blurred by your tears.

"Don't cry for me, honey. I'm doing this for- for the movie- your movie. It's gonna be another hit. I know it is and it's gonna be everyone's new favorite."

He hangs up and you nearly break, even more so followed by the news broadcast

- You rewatch the blast, he couldn't have died 

- He wouldn't leave you like that, right? Fuck it hurts

- You didn't hesitate to protect yourself to the random alien in your- oh shit

You rip his head off and hug him, "you're such an idiot."

He gives you that dopey smile in return, looking like the blood is rushing back into his body

- Then came the plan, you knew it'd work just- never planned on having to punch a person

You groan, cradling your hand. "Goddamn, is your face made of rock?"

- You pressured Dan into driving faster before Colt could fall

- You ran to him as he fell, kissing him on his saving grace

"You're an idiot."

"And your movie is going to be amazing," he smiles. 

- Which it was- or would have been had your main star not murdered someone

- Thankfully Jason Mamoa could replace him, much more tolerable too (thank god)

- Either way you won in the end because you got the guy and a dog (plus your best friend who never left)

[ilovespec]

" Scary on the outside but cute on the inside.."

[ Yandere FEM ! Gang leader × you. ]

Part 1 .

note : yes , yes , I have already written the Squalo story , I just decided to redo it a little <3

for those who encounter this character for the first time: Squalo Squarchalupi is one of my yandere OC. She is the boss of the wild sea gang. She is a muscular, tall MILF woman of 32 years old, a fan of sharks. it seems to be everything.

You walk with a cup of coffee in your hands, trembling slightly. Who are you bringing coffee to? To your boss, of course. You are the secretary of the boss of one of the gangs in your city. And to be honest, your boss looks.. scary. Scars because of the fire . The right eye looks like it's made of glass... But also what is even more frightening... So these are her teeth. Sharp , pure white. Like a shark. And one golden fang ... Why? You have no idea for yourself. Your boss's name is Squalo Squarchalupi. She is a creepy-looking Italian woman 32 years old, a former wrestler and sportsman. And now ahe fights only in gang fights, and if someone violates the agreements. And everyone is afraid of her because of this.. She is too tough in the opinion of most.

You knocked uncertainly on the door and then went inside. Squalo was sitting at her desk reading a book. One of your colleagues was standing in front of her and was babbling something with a red face from embarrassment, and Squalo could see that she was not really listening to him. Her slightly curly dark-blonde hair falling slightly over her face. When you walked in, she immediately looked up at you and said,

" Oh. (Your name). Good evening to you. And thanks for bringing my coffee.. "

As soon as you got to her desk, you tripped and fell... The cup containing the coffee fell and broke. And most of the coffee was spilled on you, and a little on Squalo. And when your colleague saw this, he started telling you off. And you immediately fell to your knees picking up the pieces... One of them cut your palm painfully, and blood poured out of it. And you stifled a painful cry and continued to pick up the pieces. You were interrupted by Squalo shouting:

" (your colleague's name) STRONZO, VATTENE DA QUI O TI FACCIO MANGIARE QUESTI FRAMMENTI DI VETRO!!! "

You don't know what it meant, but your colleague immediately ran away. And Squalo leaned towards you . And you tried to cover your head with your hands and started apologizing:

"M-Miss Squalo, I'm sorry... It won't happen again, please.. I don't want to go to Miki...P-please...."

And Squalo just stared at you in surprise, and took into her big, sinewy and scarred from a very long time ago, apparently skin burns, took out a first-aid kit from the nearest drawer in her work closet and quickly treated your wound.

" Don't worry.. I would never do that to you. I'm not a tyrant. "

And then Squalo pulled you to her.. Picking you up, she carried you out of her office with the words

"someone else will clean up this mess... And since you accidentally spilled coffee on us, I think the two of us need to change our clothes.."

Well well well , Thanks for reading 💋 Here's ANOTHER redrawing of Squalo , just for this story ;)

[sourdoughsourness]

Assignment - Shigaraki x Cheerleader!reader Chapter three

Part two:

“Wanna meet the gang at Zots?” Bakugou asked as he pulled out of the school parking lot. 

You really didn't want to. After everything that happened you just wanted to go home and curl up in bed on your phone for a few hours. Not to mention you were still pretty pissed at his display earlier. 

“I'm supposed to eat dinner with my family tonight,” you lied. You were a bit surprised at just how easily the lie slipped out. Bakugou should know why you're mad. Him acting like nothing happened was getting on your nerves. You turned to the window to stare out instead hoping that maybe he'd finally get the hint.

“Are you going to invite me?” he asked as he slowed down for a light. 

“No.”

“Oh,” he said, “okay then.”

That was the final straw. You just couldn't take it anymore. “What did Mina tell you?” You demanded, skipping the chit chat and cutting right to the chase. 

He smirked at you and boy did it just make you more upset. “Mina didn't tell me a thing,” his voice was about as smug as that stupid smirk on his face. He reached into the glovebox and pulled out a cigarette. You sneered and looked back out your window. 

He had promised smoking was a rare occurrence, but lately it had become so much more frequent than that. You hated when he smoked. It smelled awful and he didn't even have the courtesy to open a window. 

“Kirishima told me.” 

Ah, there it was. Of fucking course. Mina must have told Kirishima since you asked her not to tell Bakugou. Obviously Kirishima, being Bakugou's best friend and all, must have relayed it to him at football practice. You could already hear Mina’s taunting voice asking what the issue was because she did what you asked. You had a headache. This day was way too much, you wished you could wake over and redo it instead. 

“Listen,” you said, “we're paired up for a stupid project in Swanson's class. That's all. He doesn't want to do it with me either so just leave him alone.” Did Bakugou not even realize he could have made you a target? You shuddered at the thought of Shigaraki being pissed at you. You'd heard the rumors and were well aware of what he was capable of. 

“So he wrote his number on your hand?” Bakugou asked, his expression darkening. He took another turn, this one much too sharp. You hated when he did that. It was like his way of throwing a tantrum and frankly, it scared you. 

“Nevermind. Just take me home.”

He turned to face you, “would you just chill out?” he growled before turning back to the road. “All I told him was not to talk to you. I don't get why you're making this such a big deal.” he took a long draw from his cigarette as if he was trying to calm himself down. 

You rolled down your window to get some fresh air in the car. You were pissed and if it took petty actions for him to notice just how upset you were then so be it. All he had to do was apologize, but that might bruise his fragile ego. 

“What?” He asked, now with an amused smile. “Excuse me for not wanting a crusty stalker freak writing on my girlfriend.” 

All you could do was glare at him. He just shrugged in return like that excused him or something. You folded your arms and faced forward deciding to give him the silent treatment. You knew it was childish, but at this point you didn't care. Unfortunately your plan backfired because the rest of the ride he didn't say a word. He just smiled like he thought you were being cute.

Once he reached your driveway he got out to open your door for you like he always did, but you were already getting out yourself. You slammed the door shut behind you. 

“What gives?” he asked.

You ignored him and marched to your porch. Either his brain was turned off and he somehow still didn't understand why you were upset, or he just didn't care. Neither option sounded great.

“(Y/N),” he called. “Babe!”

It was the underlying laughter and the hint of amusement that caused your anger to smell even more. He still wasn't taking you seriously. You refused to let him convince you you were overreacting.

“Fine then.” he called after you. “I guess I'll just leave your stuff on the porch.” 

You paused at the front of your porch and turned around. Ugh. How could you be so stupid? Your gym bag had been in his trunk and now he stood there dangling it from his hand.

You were annoyed at yourself for not remembering it and annoyed at him for that huge ass grin on his face. You stomped back through the yard and snatched it from his hands.

“Ooh, feisty now,” he said with a wink.

“Katsuki,” you snapped, “you didn't have to do that.” 

“Aw come on Princess, you heard what I said. I was just giving him a little talk.” 

“I heard you threaten him!” You exclaimed

“I didn't threaten him. You must have imagined it.” He laughed. That fucker laughed and shook his head at you like you were crazy. 

“If you think that was a little talk I don't even want to imagine what a threat from you would be like. Goodbye.” You huffed and turned back around to finally head inside. 

“Okay baby,” he sighed, “love you.” 

You almost returned the sentiment out of habit, but instead pursed your lips and continued walking. You knew he was only prying for a response to try and get himself off the hook. 

“All right. Tell your dad I said hi.” 

You flung the door open and marched into your house.

You barely heard him yell after you, “change your mind and you know where we'll be.” You would most definitely not be changing your mind.

You shut the door behind you and dropped your bag with an exhausted sigh. You stayed by the door motionless as you heard Bakugou slam the trunk shut followed by the slam of the driver's door. Just as you were about to cave and rush back outside you heard his engine rev and he took off, music blasting and tires squealing.

“I don't understand what you see in this game,” you mumbled, chewing on a slice of pizza. Your parents had gone out for the night which left you with your younger brother Kota. His entire 12-year old existence revolved around video games. You shuddered at the mental image of him playing on a switch in class like Shigaraki. 

That's it. You have got to stop thinking about him. This is getting absolutely ridiculous. You blamed Bakugou and Mina for making the whole situation such a big deal. Sure, it was weird, uncomfortable, and kinda creepy, but you could deal with that. Your friends making you Shigaraki’s enemy on the other hand, you couldn't.  

“It's the same thing over and over with a background change,” you complained. 

“No it's not,” Kota said and tilted the controller to the right as if that would make the character go any faster.

You narrowed your gaze on Kota's outfit. He hadn't even bothered changing after getting home from school and instead just plopped himself down right in front of the TV. 

“What's the difference then?” You asked. You weren't very interested in the answer, but any distraction would help right now.

“Each level gets harder,” he explained, this time leaning to the left with his controller to get the character to do the same. “Duh. then eventually you'll get to the final boss.”

You glanced down at your hand. Somehow the black numbers were still faintly visible. “Sounds like a foul disease.”

“Your face is a foul disease. Now shut up so I can concentrate.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. You leaned your head on your hand with your elbow resting against the arm of the couch. You eyed your phone you'd set on the coffee table once you got home. You hadn't wanted to risk seeing texts from Bakugou or your friends because you knew eventually you'd give in. You hadn't dared leave it upstairs in your room though. Just in case the trailer Mina called. Or Bakugou. 

You couldn't get it out of your mind though. The way Shigaraki had glared at you in the hallway. He probably thought you sent Bakugou after him. You bet he thought you had run crying straight to your big scary boyfriend, told him what happened, then sent him to go threaten him. 

Absent-mindedly you ran your fingers over the back of your hand, over the now faint numbers. If you really concentrated you could still feel him writing. The sensation of the pen, the sharp ballpoint, even the weight of his hand. 

It was all too much and you found yourself unnerved all over again. You scratched your hand lightly desperately trying to remove the sensation. Were you guys even still going to be working on the project together?

Your eyes snapped to your phone and lingered. You really didn't want to, but you knew you should. You needed to know. 

“Don't burn the house down,” you snapped at Kota as you snatched your phone and stood up.

You paced into the kitchen as you turned on your phone. You stared closely at your hand praying the numbers were visible enough to put in your phone. It was hard to tell whether one was a 6 or 9, but fuck it, it was a 50/50 chance.

“Hello?” A man's voice answered. That was definitely not Shigaraki. Was it his dad? Why would his dad answer his cell phone though. 

“Uh, yes, could I uh, speak to -” you glanced up at the stovetop clock and gasped quietly. It was 9:30. 

“Hello?” The voice asked.

“Oh, I -- sorry!” you sputtered remembering what he had said about calling after 9. 

Automatically your thumb moved and ended the call in a panic. You stared at the phone as it went silent, almost like you were scared they were going to speak again. 

Now, thinking about it, it was kind of an odd thing to say: don't call after nine. Why wouldn't she be able to call after nine. Did that mean she could text? Why didn't he just tell her to text in the first place? Was nine when he went back to his tomb? Did the guy have insanely strict parents with a ridiculous curfew for him? Why was he so weird? 

You wandered distractedly back into the living room. Kota was right where you had left him: in front of the TV staring at the bright orange GAME OVER screen while a voice cackled in the background. 

“Oh man,” he threw the controller against the coffee table.

“Hey! Watch it!” You yelled.

He got up, grabbed the controller, then settled back down on the couch getting ready to restart the game. 

“Can't we watch TV or something?” You asked with a sigh. He shook his head. “Kota you've been playing that nonstop!” You snatched the remote from him.

“Don't!” He launched at you to try and get the remote back causing you to drop your phone. Sometimes he could be a little shit. 

“Don't you have friends or something? Or even homework to do?” You asked, pulling on the remote.

“Don't you?” He snarled, yanking it back.

Suddenly your phone rang. Kota quickly dropped the remote and launched for your phone. “Hello?” He answered it.

You grabbed for your phone, but your brother was faster and darted out of the way.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, “hold on.” smiling he turned to you and waved the phone. “It's your boyfriend!”

You charged at your brother ready for a fight. You did not need him interfering with your phone calls. 

“Trade?” He asked with a shit eating grin holding your phone behind him. 

“Ugh! Fine! Just give me my phone you loser.” You tossed the remote down at the carpet. He tossed your phone to you as he dove for the remote and you barely caught it. 

Finally, you pressed the phone to your ear and covered your other ear to block out the obnoxious video game music.

“Katsuki?”

“Not likely,” came the scratchy reply.

A wave of panic shot through you. 

“How did you get my number?” 

“Relax,” his tone went from cold to almost mocking. “We have caller ID. You called me.”

“Oh.” You cringed. You felt pretty stupid. You glanced at your brother before deciding to slip into another room to get out of his earshot. “Well listen,” you said, searching for the words you wanted to say earlier. “I just wanted you to know that I didn't tell Bakugou about the whole number thing.” 

“I wasn't hitting on you,” he said as if he was the one setting your record straight. “If nothing else, you're not my type.”

Your jaw dropped. “Uh, yeah,” you said, trying to ignore the embarrassment crawling over you. You wanted to throw your phone at the wall and curl up and die all at the same time. “I never said I thought you were -”

“Well, clearly your little bitch of a boyfriend felt threatened.”

“Look, I talked to him about it,” you sighed. “He just gets like that sometimes.” It was a pathetic excuse, but really what else could you say. It was the truth after all. 

“Well. I guess it doesn't matter as long as he has his little pet cheerleader to make excuses for him,” he spat. 

Now he was making you mad too. Everyone just wanted to piss you off today it seemed. “You know what -” but he didn't let her finish

“If you're not bailing on the project, I'll be at the main library tomorrow,” he said in an accusing tone. “At one. And don't bring your brainless little guard dog.”

“But it's a Saturday,” you protested.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me,” he hissed.

You started to say fine, you'd be there. You paused though, at the sound of a voice calling him in the background - a man, though they sounded different than the one who had answered the phone earlier.

“Nevermind,” Shigaraki snapped. “I'll do it by myself.” The line went dead.

You bit down on your lip and pulled your phone away from the ear. You wanted to scream, smash your phone, or shove it into a blender. 

Instead, you Shoved your phone in your pocket and stomped upstairs. 

Just what exactly was his type anyway? Bride of fucking Frankestein? 

Whatever it was it was certainly Not chapstick. 

[storiesofsvu]

Solace In Solitude Ch 4

Warnings: language, medical talk, mentions of trauma/Lauren episode. Medical injury, panic attacks/generalized anxiety. Very likely inaccurate information about DWB and medical procedures. I'm literally making things up as I go along. don't come for me. Also note that this is one of those chapters where it's little events over the passage of time so the ** means that it's a new day/few more days later kinda thing. Apologies for taking so much time between chapters on this and posting in general, being out of town really threw my entire week and vibe off and I hate it. Hopefully this will kick start me back to where I want to be lol

Emily was honestly surprised when she didn’t see you at all over the next two days, she heard your name a couple of times but nothing about you being in the hospital. She found that without you around she felt a little more obligated to actually do what you’d asked, as if she was a school kid doing extra credit on spring break, that if she had done it by the time you’d gotten back she’d get a gold star. When it felt like you were breathing over her shoulder it just made her less motivated, as if she was about to do it and then you’d ask about it and she’d immediately shut down and wasn’t going to do it any longer. She was doing it for herself, not for you.

She was whisked away one afternoon for a quick procedure, another doctor redoing the irritated stitches on her back and she was reminded once again to start being a little more active. Somehow she took that advice a little closer to heart, making it to the nurses station and back twice during the rest of the afternoon. Now that she was moving around a bit more her appetite was increased, each meal finished almost in its entirety and the nurses praised her level of hydration. She still didn’t like her required walks, she found there were too many people around, too many doctors watching out of the corner of their eyes, nurses badgering her if she needed anything or wanted to check out PT, families there to visit others who just stared. After one of her first walks she retreated back to her room and refused to get out of the bed the rest of the day.

It was later that night that she found just how empty the hospital got after dark. Hallways basically cleared, the rooms quiet, lights dimmed, windows that she could actually see the stars through. Emily actually started to enjoy those walks, something about them was calming, knowing that this time was hers only, that the city was asleep, she felt safe. She didn’t feel ashamed about how slow she was moving, how many breaks she had to take or something trivial like how bad her hair looked when she walked at night with no one to witness. Going to PT could still eat a bag of dicks though.

She was honestly starting to think that the little outburst between the two of you had been enough to make you throw in the towel, and she didn’t blame you either. She’d been incredibly stubborn, she always was and her realizing this wasn’t about to make her stop, she just wouldn’t judge you for giving up on her. She was used to it by now, it wasn’t like you were the only one who had done so.

She’d spent a good chunk of the night wandering through the hospital, taking breaks whenever she needed, she found a particularly nice windowsill up on the fourth floor and made a mental note to bring a book with her the next night. She just felt more alive at night, the darkness hid everything, hid her past, her secrets, her shame and guilt about everything that had happened. It was only when the building began to come alive that she let out a huff, returning to her room, surprising herself when she fell asleep instantly.

**

By the time Emily woke up it was nearing noon, sun streaming in through the open blinds, warming the room from the cool spring morning. She shifted slightly in the bed, stretching out a couple of tense muscles as she blinked her eyes open, glancing around the room. It was no surprise that her breakfast was left on the rolling table, ready and waiting for whenever she was awake, this had been a daily occurrence. It was just more often than not that she woke up when they did morning rounds, she was assuming her night crawling of the hospital had her conked out heavier than normal. She rolled her head to the other direction to look out the window when her brows furrowed at the sight of you on the small couch in the corner. You had what looked like a textbook in your lap, a pile of charts on one side and a notebook on the other, pen in your hand, highlighter in the top pocket of your scrubs. At first she was surprised you hadn’t jumped to attention the moment she moved and then she noticed your earphones. She pushed herself up to sitting but even that movement didn’t catch your eye, so she picked up an empty paper cup from the side table, crumpling it up and hucking it in your direction. You jumped, glancing up as you pulled out one earphone and then the other.

“Seriously? We’re resorting to throwing things at one another now?”

“Why are you in my room?”

“It’s quieter than the nurses station.” You shrugged, going back to the book, “I was in here a lot while you were still comatose. It’s easier to focus when you can actually hear your brain.” You mumbled, letting out a little sigh, flipping a page.

Emily didn’t say anything in return, not that you were expecting much. Instead she studied you, the profiler gears in her brain beginning to turn once again. You looked about as tired as she felt, but it wasn’t slow blinks or bags under your eyes, it was the dejection wafting off you, the way your shoulders hunched forward and you were curled around yourself like you were admitting defeat, like you were trying to comfort yourself. She could tell that your eyes were scanning the text but you weren’t absorbing anything, maybe it was because now she was awake and you were aware of her watching you but she was pretty sure that wasn’t it. There was something eating at you, something that was pulling you away from swiping traumas and surgeries from down in the ER for a more isolated day in the one place where no one would want to come looking for you.

“What’s with you today?” She suddenly asked, almost kicking herself instantly at the way she worded the question. Sure, she didn’t really care but she could’ve been a little more civil, if she pissed you off you did have the authority to prod at her with needles.

“Hmm?” You hadn’t even glanced up from the book.

“You seem…off.”

This time you let out another tired sigh, flipping the book shut and tossing it off to the side, “it’s my younger sister’s thirtieth today. We always do a girl’s trip for her birthday and considering it’s a milestone year we were supposed to be doing a big one.”

“What’s stopping you?” She asked, her brow scrunching as she reached out to her breakfast and you vaguely gestured around the room. “You use up all your vacation days already?”

“No.” You practically snorted, “but I can’t exactly take enough time off.”

“Then have her fly out here?” Emily suggested and your eyes narrowed in her direction, wondering why she was technically trying to help you out right now.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy you know.” You pulled her chart from the pile beside you, “besides, my family thinks I’m in Haiti.” Your eyes were skimming through the updates in her chart as she studied you for a moment longer.

“Why?”

“It was where I did my longest posting for Doctors Without Borders, I liked it the best and it was the one I was the busiest and most unreachable. It was the most believable cover so any friends and family wouldn’t wonder why I seemed to disappear off the face of the earth.”

“Oh…” She paused for a moment, picking apart the pastry in front of her, slowly chewing on a couple of pieces, “I didn’t realize Borders had a program here.”

“They don’t.” You replied dryly, not looking up, “at least not in the city. There’s a couple of programs out in the suburbs, lots of work helping refugees.”

“Is that where you were the last couple of days?” She asked and the pen in your hand stalled and you finally looked up at her.

“What?”

“You haven’t been around for a bit,” she shrugged, popping another bite of food into her mouth.

“I’m not with Borders right now. The US government is paying my salary, when I said I was from Boston I meant that’s where I live, it’s where I had a very comfortable job that I loved and had just started doing research for a clinical trial so I could get a grant for it. Then I essentially signed a verbal NDA saying I wouldn’t tell anyone where I was or what I was doing for your safety and I didn’t have a choice in the matter.” You flipped the chart closed, standing from the couch, “so how about you cooperate for once and lean forward so I can check those new stitches.”

Emily felt a twinge of guilt creep through her at your admission, dropping the pastry back onto her plate so she could shift upwards and you could do what you needed to. She’d been so wrapped up in her own situation she’d just figured you’d either volunteered or were on a separate contract or something. She was slowly realizing that maybe you’d been thrown into this new life as much as she had.

You pulled on a pair of gloves, lifting up her shirt so you could examine the newly done work, gently touching a couple of them, “looks good. Plastics knows what they’re doing.” You let out a sigh, dropping her shirt back down, “I’m glad your appetite’s back, and clearly you’ve been moving around a bit more.”

“Guess you could say I got a little antsy staying in bed all the time.”

“Good.” Crossing back to the couch you started to pick up all your things, “now get your ass down to PT, I’m booking it for you on Wednesday.”

“Oh come on!” Emily groaned, slipping right back into the dynamic of her being insanely frustrated with this place, you, herself, “I was up walking the entire floor the last couple of days, isn’t that enough?”

“No.” You stated blankly, turning back to her from the door, “you’ve got muscles in your abdomen that need restrengthening. Not to mention your mobility, you’ll go to do something you’ve always been able to do and find that you can’t do it now or it’s gonna hurt like hell. You need to be cleared for at home PT before you get discharged.” You pulled the door open, “and for the sake of both of us, you want to get discharged. Go to PT.”

Emily grumbled, dropping back down onto the bed as you swung the door shut behind you.

This was bullshit.

She was a trained FBI agent who passed all her physical and fitness tests with flying colours, she didn’t need PT. She was fine.

**

This loop around the hospital got Emily down to the cafeteria, happily picking up a side of fries to take back to her room, a little treat, a reward considering she got herself up and moving today. She was eating them while flipping through a magazine when you slipped into the room and she noticed the way you spotted the smuggled in food, a frown taking over her face.

“Take the fries away and I’ll be on my worst behaviour.” She warned, actually earning a chuckle from you.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You replied, moving through the room to check on her vitals, “plus that means you made it all the way down to the caf, that’s a decent walk.”

“Hmph.” As usual, she shut down as soon as you managed to weasel your way a quarter inch through the door. You let out a soft sigh, scribbling down a couple of updates into her chart.

“Do you not want to get out of here or something?” You asked and it was Emily’s turn to sigh, chewing on her lip for a moment while she thought before looking up at you with a trace of worry etched into her features.

“What exactly happens when I do get out of here?”

“There’s an apartment set up.” You replied, “I’ll take you there, make sure you’re settling in. I’ve got other paperwork for you, passport, ID’s, bank account to keep you comfortable. They left me with a burner phone, said they’d call if there was ever a major update.” Emily let out a low breath, her eyes flitting between you, the window and then the door as a tightness wound its way into her chest. Your brow furrowed, perching on the edge of the bed, your hand gently squeezing at her leg through the blanket, “hey… what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” She shook it off, avoiding your gaze, “it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You can lie to me all you want but the monitors you’re hooked up to can’t. So when your heart rate spikes like that, as your doctor, it’s my job to worry.”

Scowling, she crossed her arms over her chest, sinking back into the bed as she tried to retrain her body to not show the signs of stress no matter how much she was feeling it. However this time things were different, she really was vulnerable, she didn’t have her gun, her team, the strength to pull herself out of another hole. She took a heavy breath, her eyes closing for a moment before she finally dropped the mask. It had been long enough now, her mind was clear of all the fogginess that had came with the coma, with the higher level of pain meds, she’d been able to piece things together over the past couple of weeks and she knew the truth before she even asked, her voice wavering when she finally spoke.

“They didn’t catch him, did they? I mean… that’s why we’re here isn’t it?”

“I… don’t know.” You shrugged, “I’m sorry. But considering all the secretiveness, the hiding, I’d assume that whoever did that to you is still out there.” Pausing for a moment you watched the way she appeared to shrink even further into the bed, “was… what happened… a work related thing, or personal? Like are we talking about a jealous ex or a sadistic serial killer?”

Your words almost made Emily laugh at the irony of your question and she wasn’t even sure she could explain the situation to herself right now. Instead she slipped the mask back on, rolling onto her side to face the window, her mumble barely heard, “it’s a long story.”

**

The stars had been so bright through the hospital windows Emily felt incredibly drawn to them, the temptation of breathing fresh air for the first time in months too strong for her to resist. Head tilted up to the night sky, eyes shut as the breeze whipped around her she finally felt like she was free. You were nowhere to be found, the beeping and whirring of machines no longer attacking her senses, she couldn’t feel nurses hands constantly prodding at her body, she was the one in control. The city was strangely quiet, or maybe it was just that she was used to DC, that she’d forgotten what the European streets sounded like after dark, maybe she really could get used to this. She could smell rain in the air, heavy clouds hanging in the sky before a droplet hit her cheek. A smile split her lips as her eyes opened, fingers raising to wipe away the drop though her head tilted in confusion when they came away from her cheek coated in crimson. Another drop came barreling down from the sky and landed in front of her feet, when it hit the pavement it exploded into a pool of blood, trickling its way into the cracks of the sidewalk, sputtering in time with the beating of her heart.

“Hello Emily.” She could hear his voice clear as day, feel his breath on the back of her neck, his hands closing in around her waist, squeezing a little too tight on the side of her injury, his fingers digging into the stitches and she winced. “Or what is it that they’re calling you nowadays? Did you decide to stick with Lauren? I always thought it suited you so beautifully.”

She tried to shove away from him but when she turned around he was nowhere to be seen, only his dark laugh echoing through the air. The air seemed to be turning darker, stars vanishing from the sky, the rain had picked up, coating the streets in maroon and her vision began to tunnel. She whipped around again at Ian’s laugh, eyes darting around the buildings, her breath catching in her throat when she couldn’t see the hospital anymore.

“I found you once, you know I’ll be able to find you again.” Ian jeered, and she let out a groan as his fingers scratched across the brand on her chest, “I marked you. You’ll always belong to me. But you knew that, didn’t you? You’re just waiting for me to come get you, take back what’s rightfully mine.”

Emily gasped at the feeling of cold metal at the back of her neck, digging into her skin as he pressed the gun hard against the base of her skull. She could feel the heat of his body right up against hers,

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to make any mistakes this time. I’m not going to leave you for dead. I’m not walking away until I see your brains splattered on the ground.”

Her eyes squeezed tightly shut in an attempt to hold back her tears as he cocked the gun and the jolt that shocked through her made her gasp out loud, she struggled to breathe for only a moment before her eyes flew open.

Emily was shaking, covered in a sheen of sweat as she bolted upright in her bed, her hand slamming out to turn on the light in her hospital room. Panicked eyes darted around every corner and crevice of the room as her heart hammered in her chest. Gaining the courage to move she checked under the bed, making sure the bathroom was empty before she returned to her bed. She could still hear Ian’s voice running through her brain, her arms breaking out in goosebumps as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She felt like she couldn’t quite catch her breath, her brain alert yet also foggy, almost dizzy as his words found their way back into her head. He was right, the longer she stayed here, the more of a sitting duck she was.

She had to get out of here.

Now.

She hopped off the bed, thankful that she was still in a set of the comfortable clothes you’d brought in for her. Rushing around the room she yanked her phone charger out from the wall, tossing it into the duffel bag while she quickly gathered anything else she might need. It was a flurried frenzy while she debated between slipping out the door or climbing out the window before she remembered she was on the third floor. Taking a deep breath, she unclipped the monitor on her finger, ripped the stickers off her chest and with a heavy wince tugged out her IV, holding a cotton ball to it until she was certain it wasn’t bleeding and wrapping a band aid over it.

She was so wrapped up in her own panic, in the fact that she felt like she was suffocating from the inside out, she tried to shake out of it, she just needed to get out of the four walls of her room and she would feel better, she knew it. They were closing in on her, darkness taking over in the exact same way the city streets had trapped her with Ian. Her eyes were blurring and she didn’t even realize it was because they were filling with tears, her hand clawed at her chest, tugging down the neckline of her shirt so it wasn’t constricting around her neck so much. She jumped, a quiet yelp escaping her lips when there was a flash of lightning outside the window and she was certain for a moment that Ian was in the room with her. She bent over, zipping the duffel bag up and wrenched it onto her shoulder and this yelp was much louder than the last. There was a searing pain in her side and she could feel something wet on her stomach, she couldn’t even get the bag off the ground and she was stumbling backwards before she even knew it.

“Whoa!” A voice called out and she jerked away from the set of hands that were gently wrapping around her waist, certain that they were Ian’s.

“Get off!” She managed out, her voice raw as she pushed away a little too hard, teetering back into the bed.

“Hey, hey…” your voice was calmer this time, “Valerie, it’s me, alright. It’s Doctor Carter, I’m not gonna hurt you, but I do need you to get back in bed. Valerie? Valerie, look at me.” Your hands gently closed around her wrists, pulling them away from her face and you realized just how wild her eyes were, that whatever kind of nightmare she’d been having she was still partially trapped in, “Valerie…”

“It’s Lauren!” She snapped and suddenly her body stilled as she gasped out a breath, muscles relaxing when she came back to earth and realized what she’d said. Her hand flew to her mouth and she tried to hold back the cries that were fighting their way out.

“Hey… you’re okay.” You assured her, squeezing softly at her hands, “but it looks like you blew a stitch or two. How about you lie back and we get that taken care of, okay?”

 She nodded softly, shifting backwards onto the bed with a wince as you turned around to grab a suture kit and pull on a pair of gloves.

Sun was peeking in through the semi shut blinds when Emily let out a groan, blinking open her eyes before she swallowed, her mouth incredibly dry.

“I feel like I just woke up from the dead.” She muttered.

“A nice drug cocktail will do that.” You returned with a yawn and she nearly jumped, her eyes flying to the couch in the corner where you were curled up with a book, finishing the page before you looked up at her, “you feeling better than last night?”

“I.. guess?”

“What happened in the nightmare?” You asked and she scoffed.

“There was no nightmare.”

“Yeah, right. It was the middle of the night and you were trying to make a run for it in the midst of a panic attack.” You closed the book on your lap, a concerned expression on your face, “listen. I know that you don’t like me and that is completely acceptable, but you do need to get whatever’s on your mind out. I may not be a shrink but you’ve made a very good point that you can’t talk to one, so talk to me. The more I know, the more I can do to help you, including getting you on the proper combination of meds to make sure you’re not having anymore nightmares like that.”

Emily hated that you were right, letting out a frustrated sigh as she slowly sat up to pour herself a glass of water, taking a few sips to counteract the dry mouth from whatever you’d given her last night to calm her down.  She felt the fear creeping its way through her veins, letting out a little shiver and tugging JJ’s sweater tighter around her body.

“He’s still out there.” She started, her voice barely above a whisper, “and he wants me dead.”

“As far as he’s concerned… you are dead.” You assured gently, “that’s why we’re here, remember? To keep you safe. I know it sucks, and who knows how long we’ll be here but it’s keeping you alive, okay?”

“I just…” she huffed, struggling to find the words as tears blurred into her eyes and she dropped her hands down to her lap with a defeated sniffle, “I can’t lift my arm above my head. If he tracks me down how am I supposed to put up a fight if I can’t even pick up a fucking duffle bag? I know it was stupid to try and run off like that, I was freaked out and wasn’t thinking straight. It just feels like the longer I’m trapped here….”

“That you’re actually trapped.” You finished for her and she glanced toward you, nodding gently.

“Yeah.” She replied, trying to wipe away a tear before you’d noticed it rolling over her cheek. You sunk back into the couch, honestly shocked to see her this vulnerable with her guard down this far. You weren’t sure if she finally trusted you or if she was just too tired to put up with it anymore but you figured now was the time to push your luck.

“Can I ask something?”

“Sure.” She reached out for her water, staring into the cup as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Who’s Lauren?”

“An old undercover alter ego.” She admitted, “the one that he fell in love with. The one who ultimately ended up betraying him and sending him to prison. He escaped, wanted revenge and was willing to take out my entire team along the way. So I took the fight to him instead.”

“Ballsy.”

“Stupid.” She scoffed, risking a look up at you as her fingers came to the swell of her chest, gingerly scratching through the fabric, “doesn’t matter if he never finds me I’m marked as his now.” Your head tilted and your brows furrowed as you looked at her, “what?”

“I knew the mark was new, I didn’t realize it wasn’t consensual.” You replied and she scoffed again, this time accompanied with an eye roll.

“Tattoos are more my style.”

“I know brands can’t really fully be removed, but it’s not my specialty, I can send plastics up for a consult?” You offered, finally shifting from the couch, stretching out your stiff body, “the scar tissue doesn’t look that bad, might have to do another skin graft but I’m sure there’s something they can figure out.”

“Uh… yeah, sure. Thanks.” A tight smile flashed briefly across her lips and you returned one to her as you approached the bed, “god you look like shit.”

“There she is.” You muttered with a sigh, “I didn’t want to go home and leave you on your own after that.” You checked how long ago you’d administered the meds, eyes flicking to the monitors to add a couple of notes in her chart. “I want to get you started on some daily anti anxiety meds and probably some sleeping pills too, if you’re having nightmares like that sometimes it’s better not to dream at all.”

“Yeah.” She ducked her gaze, her water cup suddenly very interesting as you replaced her chart and began to move to the door, “Dr. Carter?” She suddenly called out and you spun back to her with a brow raised, surprised she even remembered your name, much less used it.

“Yeah?”

“I need… to be able to take care of myself.” She felt heat creeping into her cheeks as she risked a glance up at you, “I can’t do that if I can’t lift a bag.” A small grin spread across your lips as she spoke, “is there an opening for PT today?”

“I’ll call down to find out.” You replied, pulling the door open, “make sure you get on the list asap.”

“Thanks.”

_____________________

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