#yes yes i do hold a grudge why do you ask

[aspergerasparagus]

I wanted to ask, what do each of the Frankies think of the contestant?

Real Frankie:

He is the rabbit that likes the contestant a little too much. Obsessive and possessive he doesn't let them out of his sight unless he has a good reason to. And while he plays up the part of caring for the contestant, maybe even playing into the romance idea, there is absolutely no love there. He is manipulative, cunning and malicious at his core and the contestant is more than aware of this and knows how this is all going to play out in the end. When they no longer prove to be useful, Frankie will dispose of them. Will he be sad doing it, maybe, but in the end ending them with his own hands will the greatest thrill (plus think of the ratings!)! In the end, while he won't outright hurt the contestant (physically anyway) he still can't be trusted.

Cartoon Frankie:

"Hate. Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you since you turned up on my show." (Insert AM speech here yadda yadda) So toon Frankie is the one who hates the contestant the most, despises them actually. They are the reason his show was "ruined" and why he finally lost and being the brat that he is he still holds the grudge regardless if the contestant saved the show in the end. But at the same time they are the only human to stand up to him, to talk back, to make jokes at his expense and it drives him mad. He wants to put this little human in their place and remind them who's in charge (how he plans to do that is really up to the imagination), see them on their knees begging for mercy but on the other hand wouldn't it be fun to be put into his place by them from time to time. He's very internally conflicted by the contestant, he wants them dead, he wants their undivided attention, he wants from pleading for their life, he wants them to talk down to him. He a mixed up bunny and that only pisses him off more.

Monster Frankie:

Simply, he wants to eat his face. He is straight to the point, he doesn't like the contestant (considering they did kill him) and will be hostile to him but know he can't do anything to him right now. So they kinda exist in a weird limbo, where yes Frankie will chase him, but he isn't trying to kill him, maybe throw him a round a little like a cat with a mouse but that's all. Until the next season of course. He isn't as vocal about his feelings towards them but it's clear he is still bitter about what happened but does at least hold some respect for them, hence why he listens to Real Frankie and not Toon Frankie about the contestant's fate. He rarely interacts with them due to the contestant being the most frightened of him but will occasionally drift around them like a house cat merely to spend time in their presence until he gets that look in his eye and it's time to play again.

[theredch3rry]

Sigh *sits down while looking at her own ten month old notes* (srry im just a girl who spent too much time analyzing sl!shinyduo) the reason why gem is holding a grudge against pearl isnt because pearl killed her. in fact, gem never refers or implies that pearl killed her, but that she played a part on her death (wording is important here, because what she says is "she 2v1'd me!" nothing more, nothing else). which she did, both directly and indirectly: directly in the "yes she started the attack and swung two times at her, and before that hit her with bow shots" way and indirectly in the "pearl attacking gem send her dogs to target her, dogs that made considerate damage and restricted her movement"

gem doesnt care about who killed her; she doesnt hold anything against scar. she cares that pearl choose his side at the end, and this is were the "gem is actually emotion-driven" little thing that some people are realizing takes part: yes, gem killed pearl two times, the first one was a complete accident because the trap was meant for scar, and the second one is special for multiple reasons. despite them arguing in front of the secret keeper about it, gem doesnt try to hide that she feels guilty about killing pearl, and i believe this is the sign that makes pearl trust her enough to get on the camel.

the experience they had together with the camel made them closer in lengths it shouldnt have. by the end of session 8, pearl stopped caring about her death, she had fully forgiven gem. gem, on the other hand, probably felt closer to pearl than with her own alliance.

and in session 9 it's made clear the lengths that gem was willing to go for whatever-tf they had together. gem doesnt resent pearl for choosing the mounders, gem chose scott and impulse. gem, just like pearl did for her, avoided hitting or attacking pearl for as long as she could; pearl knew that, of course she knew that.

at the end it’s all about perspectives: gem thought that pearl would choose her because of their special bond, after the mounders were gone. ofc that doesn happen, and all gem heard as she was dying was pearl cheering for scar after pearl had swung against her (she doesn’t hear pearl asking in the middle of the battle for more time to think, or her request for a sword fight), after she had asked pearl directly "what are you doing?!" in regards of going against her and all pearl answered with was "i don't know". in her pov pearl betrays her because gem didnt attack until pearl did it, it’s a betrayal in her pov because she thought their bond was one that they could return after trying their best with their alliance. she never gets a better understanding of pearl in the finale because, well, pearl didnt provide her of answers. gem dies and she never knew of pearl's side, so now she harbors a grudge born from the actions and missing words.

(pearl isnt bad for doing what she did, just like how gem is in her rights for feeling hurt over what happened. they were just trying to do what they thought was right)

I love this

[ask-the-koopa-family]

AGAIN A STORY (it happened in the past...) about Mario and Bowser's relationship...

Art/OC/story are mine dont copy/repost!

#bowser

#supermariobros

#supermariobrosoc

#mario

In the grand throne room, Bowser stands near his throne, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon as he wrestles with thoughts from his past. Cherry enters, her face glowing with excitement, clutching a golden envelope in her hands. She walks up to him, gently nudging him from his reverie.

Cherry:

Bowser, look at what we've received! An invitation to a royal ball at Peach's castle!

Bowser: (raising an eyebrow, his suspicion obvious)

A ball? At Peach's castle? Why would she invite me to one of her events? And you know very well who will be there...

Cherry: (reassuring, placing a gentle hand on his arm)

I know you don’t want to see Mario, especially after what happened with... Betty. But maybe this is an opportunity to show everyone that we can move forward, that we’re not defined by our past.

Bowser: (clenching his fists, his voice filled with a rough edge of pain)

Move forward? You know what he did! How can I forget that, Cherry? Every time I see him, I relive that moment. It's not something you easily forget.

Cherry: (taking his hand, her gaze tender but steady)

I know... I’m sorry. I’m not asking you to forget, but maybe it’s time to show that we’re stronger than our grudges. Peach invited us; she might also want to ease the tensions. And we can’t live in the past forever... Betty wouldn’t want that. I’m not asking you to forgive, but to show the kingdom that you are no longer the tyrant king. That you are capable of nobility and greatness. Do it for us, do it for Betty... to show that nothing can bring us down, not even Mario.

Bowser: (looking down at their intertwined hands, his voice softening)

Do you really think that’s possible? That this ball could change anything?

Cherry: (smiling gently, her confidence unwavering)

I believe it can, yes. And even if it doesn’t, at least we would have tried. We’re together, and as long as we are, anything is possible.

Bowser: (sighing heavily, then meeting her gaze)

Alright. For you, Cherry. But I warn you, if he causes any trouble, I won’t hold back. Don’t expect me to be friendly with that plumber.

Cherry: (kissing him lightly on the cheek)

Thank you, Bowser. I know everything will be fine.

Later, at the Royal Ball at Peach's Castle

The castle is alive with color and light, flowers draping from every corner. Cherry, glowing in an elegant dress, enters the ballroom arm in arm with Bowser. The guests whisper in surprise, some even gasping as they look upon them. Peach approaches them with a genuine, welcoming smile.

Peach: (extending her hands warmly)

Cherry, Bowser, I’m so glad you could come. It means a lot to me.

Cherry: (smiling brightly)

Thank you for the invitation, Peach. The castle looks beautiful tonight.

Bowser: (nodding, his voice gruff but sincere)

Yes. Thank you very much, Peach.

Peach: (gesturing with a slight smile)

I’m delighted that you’re able to enjoy the evening. Cherry, I have something to show you in the greenhouse; you’re going to love it. Bowser, you’re welcome to join us if you wish.

Bowser: (giving a slight shake of his head)

No, I’ll... explore a bit on my own. Go ahead, have fun.

Cherry:

Alright, dear, see you later!

Cherry and Peach disappear into the greenhouse, leaving Bowser behind. He slowly makes his way to a balcony, seeking a moment of peace from the chatter and music.

The night air is crisp, the moon casting a gentle glow over the kingdom. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, as if letting the silence calm his thoughts.

A hesitant footstep breaks the quiet. Bowser’s eyes open slowly, and he doesn’t turn as Mario approaches.

Mario:

Good evening, Bowser...

Bowser: (without turning around, gripping the balcony rail, his voice cold)

Mario. What do you want?

Mario: (keeping a respectful distance, his tone sincere)

I just wanted... to talk. I know it’s not easy for you to be here. I didn’t expect you to come.

Bowser: (scoffing, his sarcasm biting)

Yes, being surrounded by people who’ve always seen me as an enemy, it’s a perfect evening for me.

Mario: (with a quiet sigh)

I’m not here to provoke you, Bowser. I know how you feel... about Betty. I know you blame me, and you have every reason to. What happened... was tragic. But I didn’t want it to happen.

Bowser: (turning to face him, his eyes blazing with anger)

Tragic? It was your fault, Mario! You... killed her!

Mario: (bowing his head, his voice calm but heavy with regret)

I know. And I live with that every day. But I’m here tonight to try and ease this hatred between us. It was an accident. I didn’t want her... to die. I know you may not believe me, but it’s weighed on my conscience too. I... I’m sorry.

Bowser: (staring at him, his expression conflicted)

And you think a simple ball will fix all of this? That I’ll just forget? Do you think simple apologies will erase what you did?

Mario: (shaking his head, his gaze steady and resolute)

No, I don’t expect you to forget. I know nothing can ever bring Betty back. But we need to find a way to coexist. For Cherry, for Peach, for our kingdoms. I’m not asking for your forgiveness, Bowser. I’m just asking for a truce... so we can all move forward. We don’t have to be friends, Bowser, but we can at least try not to be enemies.

Bowser: (after a tense silence, finally releasing a heavy sigh)

I don’t know, Mario. It’s not as simple as you think. But for Cherry, for my family... I’ll try. But don’t disappoint me, and don’t think this means I’ve forgiven you.

Mario: (offering a slight smile, visibly relieved)

I understand. Thank you, Bowser. I don’t expect anything more.

The two stand together under the moonlight, neither quite willing to break the silence. The ball continues inside, but here, on this quiet balcony, a fragile truce is born, with a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, they can coexist.

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

Pros of Launching a New Tumblr Account Solely for Making a Sanctuary Information Resource: a) Don't have to use the wiki anymore, for various practical and personal reasons. b) Helps other people on here get info for fics, etc. c) excuse to rewatch Sanctuary and go rabid. d) helps with my own knowledge.

Cons: I'm feeling lazy.

(excuse the essay/vent in the tags)

[fingertipsmp3]

People find out about shit I’ve put up with in the past and are like “how did you not punch this person omg” and I just need to explain one thing to you about me. I can store up things indefinitely if I have to. I am capable of rational thought in even the most insane of circumstances and if I decide it’ll be infinitely more satisfying to get back at someone at a later date when I’m more coherent than to yell at them now, by God I’ll do it

[velvet4510]

I just want to say to my fellow female Tolkien fans that we should not feel ashamed for loving these books that are admittedly male-centric.

It’s tempting to call Tolkien a sexist for including so few female characters in his legendarium - and I admit that yes he was not entirely free of sexism - but we must remember that the women he did include are the epitome of girl power and some of the best role models we could ask for: strong and willful and noble and brave, without sacrificing their femininity to prove themselves.

It’s glorious to me how you can flip through the books and see page after page of men doing everything … and then suddenly:

There’s Varda creating the Stars, Sun, and Moon!!

There’s Yavanna saving her trees by inspiring the creation of the Ents!!

There’s Melian making an Elf king forget his own people and then shielding an entire kingdom!!

There’s Lúthien defeating Sauron himself AND Morgoth himself!!!

There’s Idril preventing the complete annihilation of her people by creating the secret path out of Gondolin!!

There’s Galadriel resisting the One Ring!!

There’s Éowyn killing the lord of the Nazgûl!!

There’s Ioreth saving the victims of the Black Breath through her knowledge that the king will be the healer!!

There’s Arwen bridging the gap between Elves and Men as Queen of Gondor!!

There’s 100-year-old Lobelia beating Ruffians with her umbrella and leaving money in her will to help homeless hobbits!!

There’s Rosie raising 13 kids while simultaneously serving the whole Shire as Mistress of Bag End!!

There’s Elanor guarding and preserving the Red Book so that we can read it now!!!

That’s why I just can’t hold too big of a grudge about this. Yes, Tolkien didn’t write female characters too often, and it would’ve been fantastic if there were more. But when he did write them, they were amazing.

And on top of that, his male characters display literally our dream level of healthy masculinity in a man. Frodo, Sam, Aragorn, Faramir, etc. are our wish fulfillment. We have every right to enjoy that.

[charliemwrites]

Mafia!au part 5!

A bit of fluff, a bit of drama, a bit of Soap!

Content: Attempted Gaslighting, Violence

“Gooood morning, sir!” you sing as you sweep into Mr. Price’s office. “And happy birthday!”

His head shoots up from whatever he was brooding over, brows arched high in genuine shock. Surprise is a good look on him.

“How the bloody hell did you know it’s my birthday?” he demands, sitting back in his chair.

You beam, sauntering right up to his desk. His eyes flick to the round white box balanced on top of your tablet. Nothing big, a little something you baked at home after a couple dissatisfying trials.

“It’s my job to know,” you reply easily.

He blinks– a habit you flatter yourself thinking he might have picked up from you. “What else do you know about me?”

You tilt your head at him, a smug curve to your lips.

“Just the basics. Your full name and birthday,” you demure. Hold up your free hand and start rattling off on your fingers. “Height, allergies, tea preference, pastry preference, blood type, drink of choice…”

You set the box in front of him and resettle your tablet in the crook of your arm. He stares at you for a beat, expression bleached from surprise to outright shock. You spin your stylus around your fingers.

“Which is why I made you a marble cake with whiskey instead of rum.”

His eyes lock onto the unassuming white box. It’s not a big cake by any means, about six inches in diameter and only one layer. Just a small something for Price to have for himself. God knows the rest of the boys (and Farah) get enough treats from you as it is.

“You made this?” he asks, leaning a bit forward.

“Yessir,” you declare, “and I’m pretty good at it too. Perks of stress baking.”

He runs a hand down his face, as if his beard got ruffled. “Christ, you need a raise.”

“Yes. Anyway – I’ll get you a plate after I’m done,” you say, swatting at his curious hand. He huffs but sits back to give you his full attention. You smile in reward and begin reciting his schedule for the day.

He listens, only interrupting when he needs clarification on little details. You try not to be too endeared by the way his eyes occasionally flick to the covered cake. When you finish, you twitch your nose at him knowingly.

“I’ll get you a plate before I get started on that expense summary,” you say, turning on your heel.

You hum in surprise when a large, calloused hand catches your wrist. It’s not the hand of a businessman, you think, but a man used to work. A man who does the hard things for himself. Before meeting John Price, you would have scoffed at the thought of a rich man knowing labor. Price though… well, he’s been proving to be a welcome exception since the very start.

“Thank you for this, love,” he says, voice hitting that tone and pitch that makes your insides squirm. He caresses his thumb over the tender skin before releasing you. “Really.”

You can already feel the blush climbing up the back of your neck, over your ears, creeping onto your cheeks. Can’t ever catch a break with him.

“Well, don’t thank me ‘til you’ve tried it,” you try to deflect.

“Weren’t you the one saying you’re decent at baking.”

“Yeah, well… maybe I poisoned you or something – for that time you closed my skirt in the door.”

He sputters a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the indignance on his face. Such a handsome, almost regal man. You love to rile him up.

“I apologized. Profusely.”

And offered to buy you a new skirt entirely. The way you’d shrieked that that was not an appropriate response made Soap choke with laughter as people stared.

“Yeah, well, I hold a grudge,” you reply, shrugging.

It’s true, but not about things like that. Graves and his assistant? Oh, that’s practically a blood feud at this point. A silly little accident where your boss left a crease in your fourth favorite skirt? That’s not even something to forgive him for, but you sure as hell will never forget. Especially when he still seems mildly sheepish about it.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he grumbles. You’re not sure if he’s talking about grudges or poisoning, but the dramatics finally make you laugh.

“But I could be the last,” you call over your shoulder as you flounce out.

Not for long though, returning with a disposable fork from the breakroom. There’s something amusing to only you about a man in a thousand-pound suit using cheap plastic.

“Come to see me keel over for yourself, then?” he asks.

“Well, I can’t have you getting cake crumbs on the expense reports,” you reason.

He’s already got the lid open. No icing on the cake – you’re shit at decorating, so you chose a recipe without icing. The flavor of the whiskey and sugar should be plenty. To make up for it, you folded a tiny placard and wrote “Happy Birthday, Boss!” in your best loopy cursive.

He takes the fork, fingers brushing yours in the process. You remind yourself not to snatch your hand away like a scandalized Victorian lady. Christ, you really need to get it together.

“Tell me how you like it,” you say, making to leave again.

“Come try it yourself,” he protests.

You pause, give him an amused look. “I didn’t actually poison it, sir. You’ve not done anything that heinous. Yet.”

He snorts, carefully digging out a respectable bite from the edge. “If you see fit to toss a little rat poison in, then I’ll likely having it coming.”

You hum. “Arsenic is more my style. Classic.”

In the corner of the room, Simon makes a little noise you’ve come to recognize as repressed laughter. You shoot him a quick, amused look, before shifting your attention back as Price gestures with the fork.

“Regardless, you should get a little taste of the fruits of your labor,” he offers.

The fruits of your labor, you think with a bit of regret, will be his enjoyment of your baking. You’re not sure when his admiration became your favorite part of the day, but you’re spoiled for positive feedback from your otherwise stern boss.

“You first,” you insist, “it’s your birthday after all.”

He keeps unnerving eye contact as he brings the bite to his mouth, tongue flicking out to catch any spare crumbs. He hums, eyes closing a for a second in enjoyment, before opening and fixating on you again.

“That’s bloody brilliant, love.”

He scoops up another piece, brings it right to your mouth. You hurry to put a hand beneath in case it falls; don’t even think before parting your lips. Sugar and whiskey, chocolate and vanilla, burst across your tongue.

“Oh!” you hum, hiding your mouth while you chew. “That is pretty good.”

It only occurs to you as he takes another bite for himself, a twinkle in his eye, that you just ate after him. Used the same fork like it was nothing, like that’s an acceptable thing to do as his assistant. You’re not squeamish by any means, no. It’s just… it’s gotta be crossing some sort of professional line. You can’t imagine any of your previous bosses ever sharing with you like this.

“Let me tell you, if you did poison it,” he muses, “I wouldn’t mind it being the last thing I ate.”

You roll your eyes, swat lightly at his arm again. “I told you; it’s not poisoned.”

“I know, you just took a bite,” he answers smugly.

You click your tongue at him, playing at exasperated. “I’m going to work now.”

“Ta, love.”

--

“Oi, li’l miss?”

You glance up at Soap curiously.

(Recognize, in the back of your mind, that it’s a nickname that’s not only spread – thanks, Simon – but that you’re responding to as quickly as your own name now. You should probably feel some type of way about that. Probably righteously annoyed or something. You don’t.)

Soap is standing at your desk, shifting from foot to foot. Uneasy. But the expression on his usually friendly face isn’t nervous. It’s… something else. Something you don’t know how to decipher but makes you sit up a bit straighter, alert.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask, voice light.

“There’s some bloke down in the lobby, says he’s got a date with you?” he explains, frowning deeper than you’ve ever seen.

It gets deeper – and angrier – when he sees the blood drain from your face. You push your chair away from your desk to hide the tremble that’s trying to infest your hands.

Absolutely not. This is your place of work, dammit. Where you’re calm and collected, the person anyone can turn to for solutions. You’ve worked so hard to craft this sleek vessel of professional grace and you’re not about to have it sullied like this.

“He does not have a date with me,” you state, keeping your voice flat and tight. “Would you come down with me, please?”

“’Course,” he replies instantly.

You stop by Price’s office, knock twice, then poke your head in when he calls for entry.

“I’ve just got to pop out for a mo’,” you explain, “I’ll be right back!”

He nods and you duck out again before he can notice anything amiss. For a rich bastard, he’s too observant of others. (Especially you.)

“What’s he here fer, then?” Soap asks in the elevator.

You let out an annoyed puff of air. “A reality check, I assume.”

He side-eyes you but doesn’t ask any further before the doors open.

Sure enough, standing in the lobby, is the last man you want to see. Your ex, Brandon.

“There you are, bunny. You’ve been keeping me waiting for—”

“One, do not call me that. It’s inappropriate,” you interrupt, crisp and sharp. “Two, I haven’t been keeping you waiting, because there’s nothing to wait for. Three, get out.”

He rolls his eyes, that smarmy curve to his lips never leaving. You don’t think he’s even noticed Soap just behind you yet.

“Look, I know you’re still in a mood about everything,” he says, “but that’s why I’m taking you out. To smooth things over. Clear the air, and all that.”

“You’re not taking me out,” you repeat. “Get out.”

He crosses his arms, tilting his head in that condescending way you’ve always despised. It sets your teeth on edge, makes you burn with anger.

“This isn’t your building,” he goads, “you can’t kick me out.”

“Might as well be hers, mate,” Soap interjects, “she could kick out the goddamn queen.”

Brandon’s focus shifts to him. You feel a curl of vindictive satisfaction when his expression curdles a bit. Soap may not be a particularly tall man, but he can be intimidating. Built thick and strong, doesn’t bother to conceal his physique at all with his sleeves rolled up his forearms. And you’re not oblivious to his looks either. Soap is a handsome man. A walking ego bruise for a man like your ex.

“Fine,” he huffs, “then come outside so we can talk like adults.”

You click your tongue, fold your hands behind your back to conceal the way your fingers clench into fists. “We did talk like adults. You just failed to listen like one.”

And ohhhh, the petty satisfaction that bubbles through you at the way his teeth click in shock, a flush of embarrassed anger curtaining his face.

“Now, I’ll ask one more time and then my coworker is going to toss you out himself.” Soap chooses that moment to crack his knuckles. “Leave this building. You’re not welcome.”

You drop your arms and turn on your heel, ready to get back to work and compartmentalize this until you’ve got a fuck-off sized glass of wine in front of you.

“Hey, we’re not—”

Even if you did see what happened, you don’t think you could have followed. It happens so fast. One second, Soap’s eyes are on you. Burning with questions and fury on your behalf, checking that you’re okay. The next, he’s darted past you. There’s a scuffle, fancy shoes squeaking on polished floors, a thick, wet pop. Then Brandon is shouting in pain.

You jump, twist to see what the commotion is. Soap’s got a white-knuckled grip on Brandon’s extended wrist – though now it’s bent at an awful angle, you realize he must have been reaching for you. Your skin crawls.

“Away ‘n bile yer heid,” Soap growls, shoving Brandon back roughly.

He doesn’t fall on his ass but it’s a near thing. With the eyes of reception, a few employees, and you on him, he spits a curse at Soap and retreats. You stare after for a moment, lips parted in shock.

“All set, miss?” Soap asks, adjusting his sleeves.

“Um, yeah,” you say. Blink and pull yourself together. “I mean, yes. Let’s head back up before the boss misses us.”

He places a hand on the small of your back on the short walk back. It feels grounding rather than proprietary; you’re grateful for it. He lasts until the doors close before turning to you.

“The hell was that about, lass?”

You sigh, smooth your skirt down for lack of anything else to do. “That was my ex. He wants to… reconcile, I suppose. And he’s quite keen on getting his way.”

Soap mutters a few choice words under his breath. Scottish slang, you suspect. You’ll have to get him to teach you sometime.

“Anyway, thank you for your help,” you continue, eyes on the elevator doors. “I can’t believe he showed up here. I’m so embarrassed.”

“You’ve nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hen,” he protests. “He’s the creeper here.”

You sigh. “I know, I just… you don’t think less of me, do you? That I didn’t… take care of him myself.”

Soap’s expression softens. He draws you into a quick one-armed hug. “You did take care of ‘im, far as I’m concerned. I was just there to enforce. No need to mess up yer pretty nails, aye?”

You smile, small but genuine. “Thanks, again.”

“Anytime, li’l miss.”

The elevator chimes as it reaches the top floor. You turn to Soap just before the doors open.

“Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.”

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Masterlist

[killerpancakeburger]

Jealousy headcanons

🧼 & 💀

I also have scenarios partially based on those hcs incoming ☆

Tags: Price'sAssistant!Reader, fluff, protectiveness, possessiveness (but wholesome).

SOAP:

Was actually working on asking you out. Needs it to be perfect. Getting maniac about it.

Outraged when another guy makes a move first. Especially one that mediocre. Although if he was honest, he doesn't think a single dude on base is worthy of you. Yes even himself

So petty. Will hold a grudge forever. You'll have all but forgotten about it, but not him. Oh no. He mentally branded his rival for life. Dude is in his sights. He won't do anything that would put the other's life at risk, but make his life suck? Easy peasy. Will back down when the other back down. ...For now.

Will switch your jacket with his. Yes it's childish, so what? Only when Gaz mentions that if you two are dating in secret, you’re not being very discreet, and once you’re done choking on your drink, you learn that there's MACTAVISH written in big bold letters on your back. (Didnt notice cos you have the same type of jacket as em in the same size since they didnt have one in your own)

Very vocal and agitated about his distaste and resentment. Rants with hand gestures, forever if you don't stop him. Accent and slang getting more and more scottish as he goes.

“Ain't you all sunshines and rainbows today!” you tease him, a bit overwhelmed by his fervor, and by how personally he's taking this. You assume it's a TF141 thing - they've always been protective of you since you're the civilian of the team and the least experimented, even acting as buffer between you and other soldiers. You’re their assistant, their teammate, and no one else's.

Unbeknown to you, your wannabe suitor had boasted about the move he made on you to other soldiers. To make himself look good, and to get some kind of reassurance. The minute Soap heard mention of your name, he couldn’t help but join the group to listen in.

Galvanized by the feedbacks of his mates, the guy gets bolder in his remarks. Johnny will never report to you what he heard - it would only hurt you. When he calls out to the man, the private still doesn't realize his mistake. He replies to the sergeant with enthusiasm, thinking he's here to join the locker talk.

To think that guy dared to think Soap was on his side - would sympathize -, simply because of some implicit bro code. He was boiling until now, but that was what made him snap.

Before he could even think about it, he already had knocked the private on his ass with one punch. The altercation was broken up before he could do more.

He's itching for a fight, but he'll settle for a punching bag. Unless the guy intimidated you, or made you uncomfortable in any way. Then he's already leaving the room after you’re done telling him about it, and if you stop him, he tries to convince you it's for the best. Letting him deal his own brand of justice. It's kind of his specialty, after all.

Either you give in, and you two talk again afterwards, or you resist, despite his arguments turning into supplications. In both cases you end up asking the one burning question: "Why does this bother you so much?"

He suddenly looks like a child caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar. Avoiding your gaze. Grumbling to himself. You have to insist for him to make his speech audible again. Replies with another question. "Why wouldn’t it?"

You sigh, cross your arms. "You know what I mean. I never saw you so fired up over something that wasn’t work-related." You eventually manage to extract a confession from him.

"He... he's not your type." More grumbling. You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, before a smirk stretches your lips. "Oh? And what is my type, Sergeant?"

He looks almost pained for a second, and you feel guilty, even though you don't know what for. Then his expression changes, to one that reminds you of a condemned man in front of the gallows - a blend of resignation and resolve. He wraps his arms around you and hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Don't tease me, Bonnie." Before you can comfort him, moved but still confused, he adds: "Or I won't be able to hold back anymore."

You try to remove from his spot, but his embrace prevents you from backing down and his head doesn't budge. "Johnny... look at me. Tell me what's wrong. Let me help. Please?"

He finally meets your gaze, forehead almost touching yours. He looks more vulnerable than you've ever seen. "Go out with me?" Before you can answer, he adds: "I'll be so, so good to ye, swear it. Hell, ye've got me wrapped 'round yer finger already."

GHOST:

In denial about his feelings for you. Doesn't stop him from feeling super possessive though.

Two words: starring problem. Whether it's menacingly at the other guy, or at you, to make his disapproval known, just in case the absurd idea to accept his advances happened to cross your mind.

You're way too good for that bloke who doesn't even have the balls to face you himself (he left a note on your desk). Who the bloody hell does he think he is?

If the guy happened to scare you or coerce you in any way, he's done for. Gone. You'll never know what Ghost did, but you never saw the dude again. And when you ask around, no one seems to understand who you’re refering to...

If he's not starring at you from afar, he's with you, magically appearing at random times of the day.

When you ask him for explainations about his behaviour, he grumbles that he knows about the private's confession, and how that bloody wanker is obviously beneath you, and that you could find so much better.

You never planned to accept the other guy's advances anyway, but you’re terribly intrigued by Ghost's unusual behavior. He brags about his own skill here and there, but doesn't waste time ranting about others' lack thereof.

"I don't know about 'much better'", you argue, only half-serious. The men who've approached you can be counted on the fingers of one hand, and none of them was... adequate. But you don't really want to talk about it with your tall and dark lieutenant, a man that manages to intimate you as much as he charms you.

The sentence barely left your lips that the creaking of his chair makes you look up, and you can read something akin to "you can’t be serious" in his eyes before he stops in front of your desk. "Simon?" you call out, confused, but instead of answering, he cradles your face with one hand, the other lifting his mask halfway.

"Bite me if you don't want this" is the only warning you get before his mouth meets yours. You keep your teeth to yourself. He overwhelms you completely with just one kiss. When he releases you, you need a moment to pull yourself together.

"How's that for much better?"

[spilledartery]

ANGST FEED US ANGST PLEASE

to conceive . . . ( kunikuzushi )

[ male reader, kingdom ! au, angst, trans ! kunikuzushi, infertility, sex. fujoshis, mlm fetishizers, dni. ]

he’s broken, he concluded. kunikuzushi felt tears well in his eyes, his hand instinctively going to his flat belly – a harsh truth that it will forever be that way. the mage, who broke the news to him, gave him an empathetic look.

what would you say? will you be mad? no, no, he knows you won’t be. you’re the kindest emperor ever. it was why he felt such a failure that you, a king, chose him, a mere commoner before you made him your consort, but he failed giving you an heir.

he won’t be pleased, he will hold a grudge against me, kunikuzushi’s mind kept slipping in the dark as he heads back to your shared chambers. he will find someone else—

he sits on the bed. it was only now that he noticed his shoulders were shaking violently as he sobs. he’s failed his sole purpose in life, of giving you an heir. he felt so undeserving of his title as your consort – you put him on such high regard, defend him whenever other nobles gets too rowdy with their mouths, and yet he can’t even pay you back by bearing a child.

that night, kunikuzushi laid on his side of bed, far away from you. he would usually be buzzing with excitement whenever he sees you at the door, but now...

“beloved,” you whispered, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “has something happened? come, please, love. talk to me.”

your soft, reassuring tone made him crumble. for the umpteenth time that day, he cried. he gripped the sheets tight that his knuckles turned white. he sniffled.

“oh, love.” the next thing kunikuzushi knew, he was sitting on your lap; your arms were around his waist protectively. you gazed up at him with nothing but deep love and admiration. he doesn’t deserve you, you deserve someone better than keeping being wed to someone broken as him. “why do you cry?” you asked.

“i – i...”

kunikuzushi lets himself be selfish and clung onto you, putting his arms around your neck and sobbing against your shoulders. he grips your robes tight, afraid that you’ll slip away – but he knows you aren’t like that.

in the dim moonlight illuminating your chambers, you held him as he cried. you didn’t pry after his stammering, you just let him cry and cry, until he felt like there are no more tears coming out of him. he sniffled, steeling himself. he still holds you tight. “i w-went to the mage, earlier,” he hiccups, and you run your hands up and down his back gently, letting him know that you’re listening. “and... and i’m...” he felt tears again – it seems like there are more. “i cannot conceive. i-i’m broken! i’m infertile, i cannot give you an heir! i’m so sorry, your majesty, i am so sorry – please, forgive me — ”

through his mantra of “you deserve someone better, someone who can give you a child,” you console him by cupping his cheeks gently in your hands. “you are not broken, my love. it’s... it’s okay. there are plenty other ways of getting a child, yes?”

no. no. he knows how much you value tradition. surely you can’t just adopt a child, not of your bloodline, and raise them to rule the kingdom for the future. he knows you are only saying this to make him feel better, and he wants to slap you for it.

“hush, now, darling,” you said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “it’s okay.” then, you kissed him, chaste and soft. in spite of himself, he leaned into the kiss. he’s so selfish for allowing himself be in your presence further.

when you pull away, he’s already gripping the collar of your robes tight and pulling you back against his lips. he kissed you so earnestly and demandingly, as if wanting to prove something. please, don’t replace me. i can still be a good spouse, please...

you obliged with his advances. pushing your tongue in his mouth, he can’t help but moan, one which was muffled against your lips.

you laid him on the bed, and, without breaking the heated kiss, you began undressing him while he’s already slipping your robes off your shoulders. he was urgent, while you took your time.

you kissed down to his jaw, neck, to his soft, small mounds of breasts, taking a nipple into your mouth while your hand massages the other – kunikuzushi moans, arching up to you.

in the back of his mind, a cruel voice keeps whispering that he doesn’t deserve this; your mouth, your fingers that are pushing into him, your sweet, sweet words in his ear – none of this he deserves, but he’s selfish, always has been. and so, he indulges.

he cried as you pushed into him, and you were no better, breathing heavily against the crook of his neck. kunikuzushi wraps his legs around your waist, the action made you go deeper, and his eyes rolled back at the sensation.

you’ve set a steady pace as to not overwhelm him, but he just wants you go harder and faster, to be rough, as his punishment for being a failure and being infertile. his nails clawed at your back, and you groaned, biting his neck in retaliation.

the warm feeling of your cum pooling in his belly was a cruel reminder for kunikuzushi that it will not take. again, he cried.

some time later, you and him were at the massive table, with only the two of you eating. time and time again, you’d reassured him that it is okay that he cannot conceive, that you still love him no matter what, and he was starting to believe it until your advisor opened his damned mouth: “your majesty, if his highness kunikuzushi continues to fail giving you an heir”—you can’t help but scowl at the words he’d chosen—“isn’t it, perhaps, the time to look for concubines?”

you saw kunikuzushi tense. though before he hears your answer ( you’ve got no plans of agreeing, however ), he’d already hastily stood up and ran away, tears in his eyes. your heart breaks for him.

[fyuuura]

UNDERCOVER | jake peralta

summary: jake peralta goes undercover to infiltrate a famous mob and he meets you, the niece of the boss who loves cops.

world count: 3.9k

notes: this is my first one shot and first writing since making this account. my obsession with jake peralta is crazy.

________________________________________

It was no secret that a recently fired police officer was just introduced to the Ianucci crime family. When your father announced it to you, you immediately got up from laying on the couch. It was hard to believe since your family had hated cops since the beginning of time. Although you were apart of the Ianucci family, you weren't involved in whatever business they were apart of due to your mother wanting an normal life. They were still family and as long as no one mentioned business, they could live in harmony.

You were indifferent in your opinion about cops. Many were snobs, but the few that cared for their community were the ones you could respect. Though, you did have to admit that you love a man in uniform and seeing your extended family being apart of the mob, only made the whole uniform more appealing. You weren't close to much of your extended family, only the girls who weren't much involved with the business either.

"Who let him in?" You curiously asked.

"Your uncle Leo. Apparently he got fired from the police force and bought everybody drinks. He made a big scene." He chuckled.

"Mmm. How old is he?" You excitedly inquired, leaning forward in anticipation for the answer. You were a single woman in her twenties, you needed answers.

"Yeah absolutely not." Your father said in his thick Brooklyn accent. "He's an ex-cop, and we all know how cops are. A bunch of playboys I tell you. They are no good."

"As if the Ianucci family is much better." You shook your head, and changed the television channel.

"We aren't. I'll admit that, but we do have loyalty. You never know what these cops will throw at you. If or when the Ianucci family falls, I guarantee it'll be because my brothers or cousins stupidity."

"You think they'll get arrested." You asked.

"Oh honey, they may be my family, but if they get caught, they know what they did. Plus, it'll serve them right for crashing my tenth birthday party and turning it into a mess." Your father shook his head, still holding a grudge over decades old fights.

_____________________________________

You and your father arrived to the family party and he immediately went off to go dance with his cousins while you went to go find a waiter with some food. You didn't really know what to do in some parties, you often drifted through the crowds and mingled with the people, but you always found your way back to the bar.

You sat at the bar, wine glass in one hand and your hand bag in the other. It was peaceful until you notice a guy sitting down right next to you, ordering a drink. You've never seen him before, but you hoped he wasn't an extended family member. He had a rather nice face, a kind, unsuspecting smile, and a fit body. You smiled as he grabbed the drink from the bartender. 'Just my type.'

It was like he sensed you looking as he turned to face you. He smiled once he saw you were staring at him, but you didn't turn away. No, you needed to know who he was. "Hey."

"Why hello there. What's your name?" He replied back, his voice just as charming as him.

"[Name] Ianucci." It was like he was hooked onto the words that slipped out of your mouth. His eyes were mesmerizing. "I haven't seen you around before."

"It's my first party. Leo invited me. I'm Jake Peralta." He held out his hand for her to shake, but she froze. He watched as her eyes widened, her lips parted, and her eyebrows raised.

"The ex-cop!" She gasped then quickly put a hand over her mouth since she said that too loud. No wonder she was so attracted to him, she could spot a man in uniform even if he wasn't in it.

He laughed, "Yes, the ex-cop. Not my proudest moment, but I'm glad I'm no longer one. God, was it the worst possible profession I could've chosen."

"Really? Why do you say that?" She inquired.

"It's filled with a bunch of idiotic snobs and they fired me without good reason so good riddens to them." Jake said as if he didn't love his job and the people he works with. However, he had to play the role perfectly if he didn't want to get found out. Before he went undercover, he was informed about most members of the Ianucci family. Mostly the major characters involved with the mob, as well as their children and extended family. He remembered hearing about [Name] Ianucci, your father left the way of life long ago, but the family still kept in touch. Jake didn't have much information about you. You were the boss's niece but you didn't like to associate yourself with their beliefs. Due to this, you became a small outsider.

"I think being a cop is cool. I used to watch so many movies and if I didn't hate running as much as I do now, I think I would've became one."

"An Ianucci being a cop? I thought you guys hate my kind- wait that sounds off."

"We'll they do cause of you know what, but something about holding a gun and posing like a Charlie's angel seems so cool." You imitated the famous pose as you faked a gun with your hands and Jake shook his head chuckling.

"Hey, if you were on my team then I would've begged for my job back." He admitted and you raised a brow before taking a sip of your drink. Then he immediately paused, realizing what he said. Changing the topic was his best course of action, "So what do you do for work? Do you do the same as them?"

"Oh no. I dont associate myself with what they do, my side of the family decided to pursue other sorts of careers. I'm a first grade teacher."

"Sweet, so like you teach kids and get to play with them. Is it hard?" He tried to sound suave, leaning back in his chair. He was secretly happy to know that the pretty girl didn't do mob activities because that would've clashed with his morals and mission.

"I mean, being a teacher is always difficult, but it's a new experience everyday and I get to build bonds with the children of our future. I wouldn't have it any other way." She fondly smiled as she recalled her job. Jake noticed the ways were eyes softened and lit up. Her body language changed and got more relaxed as she shared her life. "But enough about me, I want to learn more about-"

Before she could finish, she heard the familar voice of an uncle interupt her. "Yo Peralta, come here and sing with us."

The two looked at the group of middle aged to old men, obviously wasted and drunk and having a jolly good time. Jake didn't want to end the conversation with you, but at the same time, he couldn't miss this opportunity to get close with the Ianucci family. You made eye contact once again and you nodded, ushering him to go hang out with your other family.

"We'll continue this conversation next time!" You said and he nodded, smiling and confirming that this won't be the last time you two meet as he shimmied towards the men. You shook your head as you watched him so effortlessly earn the affections of your uncles. He looked so carefree as he partied.

"Oh my was he hot." You whispered, smiling to yourself like an idiot after the interaction, and calling the bartender to serve you one more drink. So what if he was an ex-cop, it couldn't possibly be that bad.

______________________________________

You and Jake Peralta saw each other a few more times after that. Your aunt gave him a small part time job at their restaurant/cafe. He made the coffee, which you ordered every morning, and the sandwiches. You watched as he charmed you aunt and the customers and you fell into his trap as well as he used every morning he could with you there to talk to you. A joke a day keeps the doctor away, as Jake would say as you laughed at almost every one of his jokes

"Hey hey hey, [name]." Jake greeted as you sat right across from him. He started hanging out quite frequently at your distant uncle's restaurant which was right by your house. Jake was one step ahead of you and already had your favorite coffee order ready. "Another long day of entertaining the little devils."

"Once again, they are seven and most are little angels but thank you for the drink." You took a sip before your eyes landed on his hair. His entire appearance has changed a lot since you met him. His hair grew longer and he started to slick it back using gel. He wasn't wearing the button up shirts anymore, and instead switched to tracksuits even when you said it wasn't his best look. "Your hair looks a lot better now that you've grown it out."

"What can I say? Just call me the next Brad Pitt." He flipped his imaginary long hair and smiled as he watched your smile.

"Absolutely not, but I appluad your effort." You smiled as his face fell into a pout. It was the mornings like this that made you excited to wake up and get ready. Ever since Jake started to hang around, you've been waking up a tad bit earlier to spend extra time getting ready and sleeping a tad bit later due to the uncontrollable smile on your face.

"Why do you even like being a teacher? All I can imagine are those little children gluing crayons onto their fingernails and eating it." He started playing with his fingers to try and model what he thinks the kids would look like.

"First of all, never do that again because it is not cute."

"Hey! Everything I do is cute." Jake got offended while you just stared at him as if he was an alien. It didn't last long because you can never get over his pouty face that makes him look like a sad dog.

"Second of all, I just love being around kids. When I was a child, my parents were almost never around until I got older. When my dad left the family business and pursued another career, it took up most of his time and my mom lives overseas. Teachers were the ones that filled in that parental role and I wanted to be just like them." When you finished your little backstory, Jake was staring at you which made you look down in embarrassment, "Sorry for the rant, I-"

"No, dont apologize, I get it." His voice seemed softer, softer than the voice he uses to tease you with, softer than the voice he uses to flirt with you, softer than the manly voice he uses around your uncles; it felt real. "My parents weren't really there either so I spent my childhood alone watching 'Die Hard'."

"I love that movie. I used to watch that too since my dad has it on the DVDs" You shared a comforting look.

"God, you just get more perfect don't you." He quickly spoke as he melted, your hands were quickly grasped in his. That was new. Maybe you should mention 'Die Hard' again if this was going to be his reaction.

"Looks like we're more alike than we think." You smiled, looking at your intertwined hands. He either didn't let go because there was no going back or he liked the feeling.

"You can add both being late because I am never on time and you are about to be tardy young lady."

Panic filled your eyes and you hastly got up from your seat, taking your bag and coffee, and pushed in your chair, "Bye bye!"

"Bye" Jake said in a sing songy voice as he waved and watched you entire your car before driving off.

________________________________________

You both shared a sandwich that was cut in half as the streets filled with people walking to work or to get their morning drink or breakfast.

"So, are you going to the wedding tomorrow?" His tone seemed a bit different. You couldn't quite place your finger on it, but lately hes been a bit more fidgety. Maybe the wedding makes him feel lonely and he was about to ask you?

"Oh, I wish I could, but I don't really like those two getting married so I'd rather not waste my time." You shamelessly admitted and he looked almost relieved.

"How about your dad?"

"He doesn't like them either and he left on a business trip last night and wont return until next week." You told him, "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering since it seems like a big event." His eyes widened as he emphasized the word big. "But there's no need for you to come anyways if you don't like them-"

"Did you want me to come?" You tilted your head as he stumbled for the right answer. You were honestly hoping that he would finally ask you out and you wouldn't have to be carefully searching through the restaurant windows to see if he was there.

"Oh no. Noooo. Not at all. You really shouldn't come." He was way too dismissive and offensive and it came out way harsher than he expected.

"Oh." You simply said and you could definitely feel your heart being cracked right open from embarrassment of ever thinking he was going to ask you out. It's not like you were daydreaming during work or right before bed of him asking you, but a simple no would be sufficed.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Jake saw the way the corners of her lips turned slightly down and wanted to punch himself for not choosing his words carefully. It's been two months since he started this undercover mission. The first four were spent learning the Ianucci family and how they operated. Now that he has successfully infiltrated the family, it was time for the hardest part. Breaking the connections he had formed. At first, he thought it would be a piece of pie. The only thing he shouldn't do is actually care about these people. That shouldn't have been hard since they were all criminals... Most were criminals at least. He was never supposed to keep talking to you, that wasn't the plan. He should have never asked why you wanted to be a cop, he should've never asked why kids made you so happy, and he should've never talked to you to begin with, but he did, and now he has to face the consequences of his actions.

Although you weren't involved with the business, they were still your blood-related family. They invited you and your dad to the parties and gave you discounts in the stores that they owned. Sure, you didn't like or associate yourself with most of them, but Jake knew you still cared for them because they were family and he didn't know how he could ever face you again for what he'll be doing at the wedding.

"I mean I'd love to have you as my partner to the wedding, but I wouldn't want to make you be somewhere you don't want to be. Especially since we all know that the groom is a dirty cheat and the bride is the definition of a mean girl." He rambled and you agreed with the last part since you watched him up with most of the drama. "But, that's not to say that I wouldn't want to go with you because you know- it's you, and-"

"Okay Peralta. Slow down. Down forget to breath." You used slow down movements with your hands, bringing it up and down slowly to make him stop rambling.

Jake stopped his rant and took a deep, deep breath.

"I get it, you don't need to defend yourself so much."

"Let me restate. [Name] Ianucci, I would be honored to be your partner or whatever gathering you want, except the wedding. That is if you'd still want me to after the wedding-"

"Of course I would!" She interrupted him, a gummy smile slapped across her face and Jake soon matched it with his own after she joyfully agrtowards. couldn't even act nonchalant like you'd imagined you would if he ever asked. You were so overwhelmed with joy that you totally missed the part where he said 'if you'd still want me after the wedding.' It was a simple sentence that you overlooked any double meaning towards. "Ehem, I mean cool.

"Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool." Jake leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his iced drink as a goofy smile etched across his face. However, despite how happy he should've been in that moment, it was soon crushed by the overwhelming feeling of guilt as you excused yourself to go to work.

________________________________________

Shock wasn't enough to describe what you felt as you watched the news. Short videos and photos played across the screen as the news reporter reported on New York's latest arrests and there you found partially blurred photos of extended family and the wedding venue that you didn't attend. It didn't feel real as you saw the police arrest people you've seen at family gatherings. Someone must have snitched and you have a feeling that you know exactly who.

Jake Peralta. It started to make sense. He practically told you to not attend the wedding, but you were too caught up to understand why. Had you attended the wedding without his heads up, you would've been another person in those handcuffs.

You felt betrayed, but also protected. He had asked for you and your father's whereabouts before the entire thing happened. Was this his way of keeping you safe? Did he actually have feelings or did he just want to use you to learn more about the family and you gave it to him?

Scenes flashed throughout your mind as your reminded of all the times he asked odd questions and all the times you spilled to him the secrets. You began to form a headache as your reality came crashing down.

Your father had predicted the fall to happen somewhat like this. It was your Uncle's stupidity to let in an ex-cop and now look at where that landed them. You wouldn't say that you were sad, you anticipated the day where karma would take its place for all the victims of their business; you just never would have guessed that you fell in love with the person who caused that downfall.

Love, what a silly feeling to feel towards someone who you were sure abandoned you. Would he even fulfill his promise to take you on a date after this entire wedding? Should you be mad at him for doing his job and lying to you about his identity? What was real and what was fake?

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Who was it? Who could be knocking at your door at 10 in the night. Could it be the cops coming to arrest you for not outing your family? You quietly snuck to the door, scared to see the person who lurks behind it. It was a polite knock, not a police-y at all. Maybe it was a friend or cousin. You slowly opened the door, and peeked your head to see who it was.

"Jake Peralta?" You said his full name in suprise.

"[Name], please can we talk." He looked like desperate as he towered over you, his arm on the frame of the door, and the other on the door knob.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Jake." You were wary and didn't know how to feel. Evergtbing was happening all at once and you felt lost, but you needed answers.

"Please, give me a chance to explain everything." He pleaded with desperate eyes. "I know you're probably confused and upset, but let me explain and you can ask questions."

"Come in." You stepped aside and let him into your home for the very first time. It wasn't the scenario you imagined but it was a something. You walked over to the living room but neither one of you felt like this was a conversation to be had sitting down.

"It was you wasn't it? The one who sold them out?"

"Yes. It was." He admitted, "I'm still a cop."

"So you were just undercover the whole time?"

"Yes, I approached your uncle at the bar and it went from there. I can't say much- actually I already am, but, you weren't supposed to be apart of it."

"Stop right there, Peralta. Just give me a moment." You took a deep breath and when you thought you were ready to speak, your mouth held you back. A few more sighs later and you were ready with your next quest, "When we were talking? Did you approach me to just get more information?"

"Well, no. I thought you were cute so I sat down next to you at the bar. That wasn't the higher ups telling me to do it, that was my free will." Jake cracked an awkward smile, but saw on her face that that was not the tone. "I was already informed that you and you father have no part in the business so you weren't really on my radar. When we started talking, sure you did give me the latest gossip, but I wanted to talk to you. Like for realsies."

"So when you told me that you grew up alone-"

"That was all true. Everything I told you about myself was true, except for the whole undercover cool secret spy thing. You have every right to be mad-"

"I'm not mad." You told him and Jake's eyebrows shot up.

"You're not?"

"You were just doing your job and I can respect you for protecting your city, like batman." You sighed, regretting references batman in this serious conversation. "Most of my family there don't like me and do terrible stuff anyways. We were only relates by blood, besides, you did tell me not to go."

"I didn't want you to see the aftermath of everything. You had no part in anything and-

"But wouldn't I still get in trouble for not reporting it? I mean, I knew what kind of people they were but I didnt say anything." Jake stayed silent and she continued, "Why protect me? There are others in there that had no part too. Why me?"

"Because..." he trailed off, feeling his heart start to race as you looked at him to continue, "Because, your special to me. I really really like you, [Name]. I like the way you talk, the way speak about your students, the way you smile, the way your eyes softened when you talk about things you love. The way you put up with my childish antics and act like you don't like it but smile just seconds later. You never judge when I'm talking and I like you so much that I feel like I'm about to burst. I would rather you hate me than me not be in your life at all. I know I lied but I am serious about you and when this is all over, I want to fulfill the promise I made to you. I am in love with you."

I am in love with you. That's all you needed to make your decision. Your hands found it's way to the sides of his face and your lips found it's way to his. He immediately wrapped his hands around your waist, one resting one the small of your back and the other resting on your hip, stabling the both of you admist your passion. You moved your right hand into his hair that was already ruffled and messed up as he was running and finding his way to your apartment. He kissed you as if he was been yearning for the touch of a woman for centuries. It was so gentle but so passionate that you could feel your face getting hotter and heart beating faster. You both pulled each other as close as possible and he leaned forward to try and deeply feel you even closer. When you finally did break the kiss, he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, drunken on love and the sight you.

You grabbed his chin and softly brought it closer, "I love you too. The way that you joke around, the way that you smile, the way you talk, the stupid smile on your face when you talk about 'Die Hard' or the stories you had when you were a cop. I love all of it. I love you." You whispered and he rested his head on your shoulder, overwhelming happy that he didn't ruin one of the best things in his life.

"So, it's after the wedding technically. How about that date-" He started as you just melted into his chest.

"Just shush and enjoy this moment. We'll figure out everything later. Let's go to my room." You grabbed his hand and led him to your room, "While I have your attention though, you need to drop these tracksuits because I love a man in uniform."

"Already on it." He smirked as you closed and locked the door. You, [Name] Ianucci, dating and being with a cop whose absolutely hated by your family. What's the worse that could happen?

[ask-geralt]

You guys want to know one of my favorite things about Edwin? He loves how smart his friends are. He gets so excited and outright a w e d whenever they think of something clever, make a keen observation, or offer a solution to their problems. All I ever want to write is Edwin who eloquently gushes and praises his friends' intelligence and skills. Edwin who, when the occasion arises, gases them up when they get self deprecating, because to him it's not an opinion, it's a FACT that they're smart, and good, and kind, and brave. That they're all equals. I would even go so far as to say he, himself, feels he has to continuously work and study so hard to keep up with them, to continue contributing.

Genuinely I feel like it's a pretty big factor in his hostility towards Crystal in the beginning. When Charles and Edwin first talk with her post-exorcism, she's unimpressed with the work they did to save her, and she insults the name of their agency, which Edwin and Charles are both clearly fond of. Charles, who's used to laughing at digs far more hurtful than that considering his life before death, let's it roll off him easily, but Edwin takes it more personally. From there, he grows jealous because of the attention Charles is giving her, made worse when Crystal proves her powers ARE faster than the methods the boys used before meeting her. Edwin feels like he needs to prove he's better, or at least still useful where Crystal isn't ("We all have talents.") to Charles, because if Crystal can do everything Edwin does, and does it better, then why would Charles keep sticking around? And of course, Crystal returns his hostility beat for beat, as she should. I feel like her subtle attempts to smooth things over and get along with Edwin aren't talked about enough, like she lets him get away with so many snide and openly rude comments before she starts biting back again in episode one. But Edwin holds a grudge and she shouldn't have to take his attitude towards her lying down, not forever, and neither of them are willing to, say, try and ask the other why they're so snippy towards each other, or apologize lol. Honestly their dynamic is so layered and fun to pick apart!!

What really seals it for me is the contrast in his reaction to Crystal compared to Niko. He warms to Niko pretty much immediately, calling her charming and quickly getting down to business on saving her, without even a token protest about helping yet another living girl. And I think that comes down to her attitude towards their assistance, what she brings to the table for the group's dynamic, and her willingness to let them do their thing without rocking the boat on methodology. She doesn't come across as a threat to Edwin's friendship (repressed and unacknowledged crush absolutely not helping either) with Charles, since she and Charles don't interact much, especially not one on one the way he and Crystal do, so she doesn't ruffle Edwin's feathers at all compared to how instantly and repeatedly Crystal gets under his skin.

All this to say I love all four of them, I love that they've all got their strengths and skills, I love that there's also that overlap, that they all get to do detective-ing and that Edwin doesn't get that petty protectiveness over that role. Yes he feels threatened by Crystal, but that has everything to do with Charles and nothing to do with her being competent, in and if itself. He doesn't see himself as a Sherlock Holmes with three Watsons following him around. He likes it when the others are clever, when he's not being a petty bitch (affectionate) who hates change/new things lmao

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au p aring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> abuse, mention of sex / pregnancies, etc. words -> 2.3K

abstract -> Never owe people favors it could one day cost you your life...

y/n’s perspective

“Taeyong, you can’t be serious,” I said as I was now in the office of the devil himself. And he's called to get his end in a favor. “You owe me,” he said and I scoffed. 

“You’re literally chasing in a favor from when I was in college,” I said and he only grinned. “You still owe me. Besides, it shouldn't be dangerous” and I scoffed at his reassurance. 

“It's just an interview. You’ll wear a wire, and all I need is evidence” he asked and I sighed. “Fine. But I won't risk my life for this, Taeyong” I said and he nodded. 

“I would never put you in a dangerous situation. This won’t hurt you”

“Do you have to do this? Or at least take one of us with you?” Yeosang asked and I shook my head. “I have to repay him. He helped me a lot in college… besides he's trying to do a good thing” I explained and they sighed. “You’ll be okay right?” Wooyoung asked as he hugged me tightly. 

“Of course, he explained that I'll be going in for an interview and he’ll be listening in case. He will only interfere once he's gotten information though, so I won't be in danger. This won't affect us” I assured them and they nodded. 

“Be careful, circus hybrids are some of the most deprived and abused hybrids” San warned and I nodded. Over the years people stopped performing with animals and advanced to hybrids because of their ability to be trained and have a human way of thinking

Even though many people thought it was better it's not too well known that it's abusive to them just repeating history. “Be careful” they said as I was now on the elevator waving bye to the boys. 

They've really grown. 

I’ve officially had San and Wooyoung for five months. Whilst Yeosang joined us two months ago. It's actually been seven months since I originally adopted Son. I couldn’t be happier to have them by my side. 

Now I had to pay my debt to the devil named Taeyong. He truly does hold grudges… 

I walked into the VIP line where I showed my journalist ticket. I would be able to take pictures, and even conduct an interview. As I walked in I noticed the hybrids on display. 

There were two specifically at the entrance. They had bold big letters ‘MATZ’. They were meant to sit there in a glass box… it didn’t even have enough room to walk one step. In a smaller print were their names. 

Seinghwa was the one smiling and bowing, whilst Hongjoong only stared. He would be too far down, he could probably be dangerous. The ones around me started flashing lights at them… it clearly bothered them. I made sure to ask Taeyong to give me a camera without a flash. I took a photo of the surroundings. Another reason why he had me do this job and not Mark was because I have a hybrid specialist license to see and even handle red-coded hybrids with supervision. 

I knew how to analyze their behaviors. So when I saw Hongjoong, he had the potential to be a black code hybrid. 

“Hello! Welcome, it's an honor to see such esteemed guests !! I hope you may enjoy the show !--” as he spoke I saw his ringmaster look. He had jesters and clown costumed people handle hybrids. A few were assigned to cuff and ensure ‘MATZ’ did not act out.

They were tigers and therefore dangerous. 

“-- Of course, if you need help please ask one of my staff. I look forward to the interviews I’m scheduled for” he said as he left. As the staff looked at our tickets I was led to the back. I was given a pre / post-interview. 

“Hello, I’m going to be conducting an interview?” I said as I now saw the ringleader with the two tigers. They had chains connecting to their collar which looked like ones that were for black code hybrids. 

“Ah yes, may I ask which firm it is under?” he asked and I nodded. “It would be under the N.E.O. Firm” I stated and he nodded. 

“I see. How is Dong Sicheng ?” he asked and I smiled. “He’s actually on vacation at the moment. Last I heard he was in China visiting a few friends. '' I answered and he chuckled. 

“I know, your firm isn’t too keen on me,” he said and I noticed the curious eyes of the tigers. “Well, the firm has hybrid rights associated. It has been for years now” I answered and he nodded with calculating eyes. 

“That it is. Though I can assure you, our hybrids are treated like family” he said and I smiled softly as I wrote down notes of the two hybrids behind him. They were clearly agitated by his words, almost like he was lying.

“Well then. What are your questions?” he asked politely. “How many hybrids currently do you have registered?” I asked and he nodded. “Around fifty dear,” he said and I nodded. “And all are vaccinated with the current hybrid regulations, health up-to-date, VISA’s registered?” I asked and he answered yes. 

So he denied hybrid trafficking, and hybrid health neglect.

“May I ask you to talk about MATZ?'' I asked and he nodded. “These two were born into the circus. Their parents are a mix from our circus and a breeder which I know personally” he explained and I saw how Seonghwa kept on staring at my coat. His ears were twitching and I noticed Hongjoong’s glare at me….

“These two are such close friends we thought that a show would be most beneficial and fun for them,” he said while lifting his hands to pet their heads making them both clearly uncomfortable. Seonghwa stared wearily whilst Hongjoong looked like he could bite any minute.

“May I ask if I own hybrids?” He asked and I contemplated. “Decline anything in your personal life” I heard on the headpiece Taeyong gave me.

“No, I do not,” I said and he nodded. “Are you against the ownership?” He asked and I shook my head. “Not necessarily… it would take a lot of circumstances for me to adopt a hybrid,” I said and the ringmaster only nodded. 

“I can assure you every hybrid here is taken care of, and we’ll look after it, '' he said and I noticed Seonghwa's gaze. It wasn’t like Hongjoong’s glare; it was almost like he was pleading for help. 

“What’s the situation with heats?” I asked and he chuckled… “I don’t believe in heat suppressants. I let them go on with it with the other gender hybrid” he explained. 

Meaning it's how he has so many hybrids… he’s illegally breeding them. “Are you not worried about pregnancies?” I asked.

“No… some of our female hybrids are sterile so they can’t reproduce either way” he explained.

It wasn’t abuse per se to sterilize a hybrid… but it was being argued for hybrid rights.

“How long have you had this duo?” I asked curious. “Hmm, these two rascals? Well, they were born in 1998 and they’ve been with me since then.” He said and I nodded.

Would they speak out against their master? They would’ve seen everything… been through… everything.

“Sir?” I heard a clown asking for the attention of his boss. “Ah give me a moment my dear, why not have an exclusive interview with a MATZ performer. Hongjoong needs some touching up so Seonghwa treats her nicely '' be said and I knew the reason why they took the orange tiger away was because of his behavior.

“Be careful, an abuse hybrid can be triggered at any mention of abuse. Ask simple questions.” Taeyong said and before I could start I looked at him.

He stared at me with soft eyes and a smile... it shocked me how gentle his expression looked.

“I’m not fragile for you not to ask me,” he said and I felt my eyes widen. “The moment you walked in I heard that radio of yours… it kinda hurt at first” he confessed.

“I’m sorry,” I said but I couldn’t turn it off for my safety.

“It’s alright… you're not the first person to come here to infiltrate this place,” he said with his ears flattening on his head. He was losing hope for himself.

“How many hybrids are there?” I asked and he sighed. “I’ve lost count… it is over a hundred by now and more to come” he explained. “Oh, and he doesn’t register hybrids in case they die. It’s a miracle to even survive birth here… let alone survive being a baby here. We aren’t checked for until we’re cubs… after that, we’re never looked after again. The only thing he’ll ask to do is hygiene for his top performers” he explained.

“I’ve heard of your firm from the clowns… they hate you,” he said and I chuckled. “They said something about a girl writing about hybrid rights. Since then they’ve shut down several enterprises” he said and I smiled.

My reputation follows me.

“They might know who you are, be careful,” Taeyong said and Seonghwa only stared at me with twitching ears.

“You must have really good hearing to catch it,” I said and he smiled softly with his tail swishing behind him.

“Thanks… but it comes in handy with the staff,” he said and I sighed. 

“Do you have anything you want to tell me?” I asked and he swallowed down saliva showing how nervous he was.

“I’ll tell you everything if you manage to burn this place down,” he said and I sighed. “How about we make a promise?” I asked and he looked at me confused.

“I’ll shut this place down… but that’ll be the easy part. I’ll still need some more evidence after to concrete it” I asked and he nodded.

“Good luck”

The show was like any other hybrid show. 

You could see the fear in hybrid's eyes when they made a mistake and had to cover it. Clowns and performers have the upper hand. 

MATZ had the opening… they did dangerous stunts. There were a few times they stumbled but otherwise did the best they could. The crowd loved them… I saw the contrast of the two… fear and anger.

Once the show was over I did a closing statement with the ringmaster and some staff who showed me around.

“And our opening act. Did you enjoy it?” they asked and I smiled when I saw Seonghwa and Hongjoong in a tiny cage. It had enough room for the both of them but it must've made them feel trapped.

The staff were talking to other reporters when I noticed the heavy glare Hingjoong was giving me.

Seonghwa got his attention and looked to be scolding him only for him to scoff. He looked over at me and bowed in an apology in which I shook my head. 

“I hope you enjoyed the show” 

seonghwa’s pov

As the reporters left with the staff, Hongjoong glared at me. “Quit acting that way” I scolded and he scoffed

“She’s not the first person to come here asking for questions with a wire,” he said and I sighed.

“You heard what they said about that firm though—“ “She also said how she didn’t own any hybrids but owned three,” he said and I was confused. 

“She has hybrid scents reading out of her. You shouldn’t trust humans so easily… one day it’ll be you they’re disposing of” he said and I looked down.

“I… sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out that way. I’m just sick of this Seonghwa but this is our life and it’ll never change” he said and I chose not to believe that. 

I had hoped that she’d complete her promise.

“Hongjoong…. Sometimes you just have to have faith that people are still good. We don’t know how it is outside… maybe it’s different” I said and he sighed.

“But is it any better?” He asked and before I could respond I heard yelling.

“Woah!? What are you doing?!” I heard as I saw the ringmaster following… policemen? 

“This place is being temporarily shut down for inspection and so are the hybrids in this vicinity. If we find anyone trying to smuggle or hide evidence you’ll be under arrest for tampering with a crime scene” he said and I also noticed people with white lab coats. 

“Start arresting staff members and performers. Contain all the hybrids as well” he ordered and the last thing I saw was Hongjoong defying them whilst I felt a sharp pain in my neck.

Everything could only get better… right?

Waking up in a white and cold room was not what I expected…

“White tiger hybrid seems to be malnourished, untreated second-degree burns, underweight, untreated cuts, and dehydrated. Seems to be approximately 25 years old and unclassified code due to tranquilizer” I heard… Was that a doctor?

I tried sitting up but my wrists were bound. 

“You’re awake? Are you going to comply?” he asked me and I noticed how close he was. He seemed to purposely try to annoy me… “Classified as yellow. He’s one of the tame ones” he said into the radio. Classifications? I knew very little of that… but yellow wasn’t bad?

“The orange tiger is awake, and is showing a lot of aggression” I heard on his radio… Hongjoong? “Tranquilize him,” the doctor said and I struggled against the constraints. “He’s your partner, right? They won’t hurt him, but he will hurt us… he’s in good hands'' he said and I scoffed. Like I’d trust humans now after… 

“What happened to the reporter?” I asked and he looked at me confused. “She promised to help me… what did she do?” I asked and he hummed. “She’ll be conducting interviews this following week. So be on your best behavior or you’ll end up in a higher code” he said as he left the room. 

She actually… helped us?

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes ch 10

masterpost

“Why are you so cheerful?” Damian narrowed his eyes up at Dick, as if he could possibly intimidate his elder brother. “And why are you still here? Return to Bloodhaven at once, where someone might desire your presence.” He dropped his phone on the bench with a clack and roughly pulled his sweatshirt over his head. His hair floofed up after it, trailing with static electricity. 

Wow, someone was still holding a grudge over him spilling the beans about the elementary school art show. Why so cranky? Cass and Stephanie hadn’t done anything embarrassing, they’d just come with him and said that it was nice. Damian had done this family portrait thing where no one had eyes or hands. It was avante garde or something. Dick didn’t really get it, but the technical proficiency was really impressive.

Dick bounced on his heels a bit as he got his gloves on. He felt his hair bounce with the movement. He felt extremely light and breezy. “Because you would miss me,” he teased.

Damian grunted and looked away. He yanked open his locker and pretended that he was the only one in the changing room as he pulled off his pajama pants and started to wiggle into the Robin uniform. The leg armor squeaked as he forced it up and into place. 

Quiet footsteps padded into the room. Dick caught sight of Timmy in his locker mirror.

‘He will definitely be up for fucking with Jason and his date a little.’

“There is a little something going on tonight,” Dick said, faux casually. He cracked his neck and then started going through the double check of all the fastenings of his uniform and basic equipment. “Remember earlier, when Duke sent that odd message?”

Damian grunted.

“Well, I looked into it, and-”

“Holy shit, Jason is calling out of patrol tonight in the group chat.” Stephanie’s voice trailed faintly over the divider between the locker rooms. “Do you see this shit, Nicki Minaj?”

Dick blinked. “Nicki Min-” 

That apparently meant Tim, who lunged for his phone and unlocked it. He stared in disbelief for a moment. “Is he allowed to do that?” he asked. He scrunched his face up, clearly disturbed.

‘Makes sense, but does that mean I’m going to be chasing Jason, not Red Hood?’ Dick crinkled up his nose and thought about it. Probably not? He didn’t want to give anyone the impression that Jason’s civilian ID was being hunted by law enforcement. Jay probably just didn’t want Dick to be able to track him down too easily. Fair enough. 5 of them on patrol was quite honestly a lot more than Gotham needed on an average night.

Damian snorted. “Don’t be absurd,” he sneered. “We are all entitled to a certain number of rest days per week. Have you forgotten the holistic wellness powerpoint presentation so easily, you despicable fool?”

“Shut up, nerd.” Tim held his phone in Damian’s face.

Damian stared at it without blinking for a long few seconds. “...I was not aware this was a genre of action of which he was capable.” He looked incredibly troubled.

The expression wiped off of Dick’s face.

‘What did that little shit do?’

“Maybe it’s a sick mind game?” Stephanie suggested, voice lifting in question.

Dick yanked his locker open and dug his phone out. He unlocked it in a blur of motion, already scowling. 

Jay had sent a picture to the birdchat with a selfie of him and a man who must be Danny, the dead guy on the other end of the sacrifice contract. They were leaning together over a dinner table. Jay was cheesing for the camera, a glint in his eye that said he knew he was being a little shit. Danny looked kinda dazed, which probably meant he wasn’t quite wild enough for their life. Dick nearly felt a tinge of guilt about tagging him into their rivalry, but hey, it was just a friendly game.

The accompanying message was, “Can’t patrol tonight, I’m spending time with the boyfriend. Stay safe, losers and Steph.”

Dick huffed. He slammed his locker shut. Fine. So, he didn’t get to share the exciting news! That was fine. That was fair, even. Jay should get to launch his own relationship. It was just kinda-

Wait. He scrambled to open the locker again and looked at the selfie again. 

He knew the wall behind them. It was an Italian place where Jay laundered money from the sale of imported Dutch narcotics. 

‘They have to still be there,’ he realized, mind running through the minutes since he had confirmed with Babs via camera that the two were at the planetarium. He grinned like the Grinch and rushed out. “Bye, see you out there,” he called over his shoulder to the locker room and snatched up his helmet. He had already changed, after all! No need to wait around for the slowpokes and the old man who still wasn’t even coming down the Bat staircase yet.

Nightwing flung himself onto his motorcycle and tore off into the night. He crossed the bridge into Gotham, a flash of blue reflected off the choppy water below. It felt like minutes until he kicked out the stand for his bike and dismounted, clicking the protective tech on without stopping for a minute. He took the rickety, rust-red stairs up the outside of the building and slithered in the stairwell.

He wasn’t an amateur. He knew that Jay knew what he’d done. He was expecting Dick to come here. But that didn’t mean Dick couldn’t gain ground. Jay might still be here. Dick crept out into the restaurant through the kitchen, ducking out of sight from the line cook and bursting through the kitchen double doors in utter silence.

His gaze went unerringly to the table where the photo had been taken. A grim-faced waiter looked up, pristine white cloth in the process of wiping it down. “There’s a note for you,” he said. He indicated the receipt with a head tilt and finished his task, wiping down the salt shaker and other accoutrement.

Boo. Dick deflated. “Thank you,” he said. It was too much to expect for this to end first thing. Ah. He cheered up at the realization that this was better, actually. He was clearly only minutes behind them. The game wouldn’t be fun if it was too easy, after all. With that in mind he felt pretty chipper as he reached for the no doubt taunting note Jay would have left him on the back of the receipt. In his peripheral vision he noted the waiter picking up a short mop and running it over the floor under where Jay and Danny’s feet would have been.

…A riddle. They left him a riddle. “How does water fall onto a cranky little stormcloud?” Puzzled, he blinked. Uh, water going up? Something about condensation, about pipes, about… stormcloud? He crinkled his eyebrows and thought about Damian’s thunderous little face, chubby cheeks and all, positively sick with fury that Dick had betrayed him by attending his art show.

He had a bad feeling. He looked up. There, in the unfinished rafters, alien green eyes stared down at him predatorily from an inhumanly pale face. 

Dick froze. Jason’s boyfriend was clinging to the ceiling like goddamn Dracula climbing down the castle wall, one clawed hand wrapped around a rafter, feet braced against another in a way that made his limbs look just slightly too long and angular. The other hand was holding a bucket.

Fuck. Dick dodged in a roll and barely evaded the bulk of the splash zone.

“Loser!” Jason’s voice called out. 

Dick whipped his head over to see his brother grinning at him from the kitchen in a goddamn kitchen staff apron. “Bitch!” he said, appalled. Had he really walked past him without realizing it? No way. Just no way. He looked back up and jolted. 

Danny was gone. 

Fuck!

He looked back at the kitchen just in time to see Danny drape himself over Jason’s shoulder in a boneless way, flash a grin with teeth that were far too long, and then… and then. They both faded out of sight as Dick rushed the door. There was no hint as to where they had gone.

‘I should have gotten tactical information about Danny’s ghost abilities before I challenged them. This is on me, a little bit. I’ll have to have Babs take a look… No, not yet. They’re probably going around by one of Jason’s bikes, I can check on what’s missing and plug the license plate number into the auto search program.’’

“Excuse me.”

Disheartened, Dick blinked back at the waiter, who had already mopped up the water that Danny had dropped on him. He was impassively holding out another wet towel. 

”...Thank you,” Dick said, and dried his left shin off so he stopped leaving drips across the restaurant.

[love-belle]

about damn time !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which he finds out that his pregnant fiancée can really hold a grudge.

or

for when you love them too much to stay mad at them. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

real life // carlos sainz jr. x fem!reader

warnings - language, pregnancy talks.

author's note - had too much fun writing this, hope u like it as well!! thank u so much for reading, i love you <3 requests are open!!!

≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱

"charles?"

"yeah?"

"can you tell your friend to stop poking me with that damn stick?"

"carlos," charles sighed, rubbing his face tiredly as he sat between his two best friends.

"yeah?"

"stop poking y/n with that damn stick."

"tell her to tell me that herself."

"y/n?"

"yeah?"

"tell him to stop poking you with that damn stick yourself."

"tell him to stop poking with that damn stick before i break it and shove the pieces high up his ass."

"carlos?"

"yeah?"

"your fiancée is really fucking scary."

"i know."

"why are you guys even fighting?" charles asked, looking from y/n, who was very pointedly ignoring carlos who was watching with a nervous smile on his face, trying his best to get her attention for the past hour. he wasn't very successful and resorted to more inconvenient methods, which included poking his pregnant fiancée with a small wooden stick that he had found in god-knows-which cursed corner of their house.

"ask your friend that because apparently i'm too stupid," y/n snapped, standing up and leaving the room without even sparing carlos a glance.

"shit, what'd you do?" charles asked as he watched her retreating form. "the only time i have ever seen her pissed was when max ate her last cookie. i have never seen a man so terrified."

"why is it you always assume i did something?" carlos whined, burying his face into a cushion.

"because it is always you, that does something," charles retorted, moving to lay back against the couch.

"fair but doesn't mean it's nice," carlos narrowed his eyes at his teammate. "and it was a stupid thing i said this morning. word of advice, it's always better to stay silent when you have a pregnant fiancée with anger issues."

"holy shit," charles laughed in disbelief, not really understanding what stupid thing could his friend have said to make y/n this mad. "what did you say?"

"well, since we found out that we were gonna have a baby, she's been so invested in knowing what's the size of the baby like it's the size of a grain of rice, two grains of rice, end to end, a — "

"what's the size of your crotch goblin right now?"

"first, it's about the size of a blueberry right now and second, don't ever refer to my child as a crotch goblin."

"pet sperm?"

"what is wrong with you?"

charles shrugged, motioning him to continue with his account of what had happened in the morning.

"uh — and she also tells me that the baby grew a heart today, or that the heart is 's' shaped right now and soon it'll have limbs and all, yeah?"

"uh huh," charles hummed, his eyebrows furrowed as he thought about what ever could carlos have had said about this for them to be like this.

"and today, apparently the baby developed a brain or something and y/n came in all excited and she was like 'mi amor, i grew a brain today' referring to our child and i said that..."

"that..?" charles raised his eyebrows, sitting up straight as he watched carlos inhale deeply before he finished his sentence.

"i said that it was about damn time," carlos whispered, as if afraid that y/n would hear him once again.

"oh."

"oh."

"you said that?"

"i said that."

"to a pregnant woman?"

"if the doctor's appointments are legit, then yes, to a pregnant woman."

"who happens to be your fiancée?"

"i'm not sure anymore, to be honest."

"do you have a death wish?!" charles exclaimed, looking at carlos with wide eyes.

he knew how well y/n could hold a grudge and her anger was something you would never want to be on the receiving end of. and a pregnant y/n was a force to be reckoned with. the mood swings were already heavy on not just carlos, but their entire friend group, no one wanting to get yelled at by a woman who wore fluffy socks and sang taylor swift during long drives.

"i knew i fucked up as soon as i said it," carlos groaned, running his hand through his hair. "i thought she was gonna get mad."

"she didn't?" charles asked, surprised at the revelation. he knew if he had said that to her, he would on the next flight, any flight, out of the country.

"no," carlos grimaced, as if reliving that moment. "i thought she would, to be honest, her mood swings are wild this week but she didn't. she just stared at me for a minute before walking away."

"woah," charles nodded, not knowing what to say. "that feels worse."

"yes, especially because i think i made her cry," carlos admitted with a frown, fiddling with his fingers. "i hate it when she cries because she hates it when she cries. something about her feeling overdramatic for crying at every single overwhelming thing, even though i tell her that it's okay. it's just those hormones. she hates crying and this pregnancy is really challenging that and i think i made her cry this morning. she was just excited to tell me about our baby and i unintentionally and indirectly called her stupid."

"you're stupid," charles immediately said, looking at carlos with an incredulous look on his face. "i feel bad for her. i mean, i know that she's mean sometimes and she yells at us when we're being stupid but her crying feels, i don't know, wrong."

"yeah," carlos sighed, standing up and nodded towards the direction of the master bedroom. "i better go and try to talk to her. you'll be okay in the guest room, no?"

"yes, i will be, thank you," charles smiled at his friends before making his way towards the guest bedroom, leaving carlos in the living room.

the man sighed, switching off the tv that played a random movie before he turned off the lights, making his way towards their bedroom.

he paused in the front of the door, his hand lingering on the handle before he pushed it open carefully, thinking that she was already asleep. his eyes took a few seconds to adjust in the dark as he moved blindly towards the bed, reaching for any furniture in his vicinity. he tried his best not to make any noise as he moved as y/n was asleep not even three feet away from him and he would not have her any more mad at him.

he finally found himself by the edge of bed and quickly got in after discarding his t-shirt and pulled the covers over him. he didn't dare move, in fear of waking her up. he knew that it was sometimes difficult for her to fall asleep, always one thing not being right, sometimes it would be the pillow and the other times it would be the texture of the bedsheets against her skin. he had found her in the living room all by herself at three in the morning too many times to count. so, whenever she finally fell asleep, he would do his best not to wake her up.

he sighed, feeling weird, not having her right against him as they both slept. instead she was there, all over her own side of the bed, a good few inches between them.

carlos couldn't take it anymore, he'd gotten used to having her lay next to him, her arms around him while his rested on her stomach, tracing random patterns. with a swift movement, he reached across the bed and pulled her towards him, whispering a soft 'sorry'.

y/n exhaled deeply, her hands unconsciously going around carlos as she shifted to get more comfortable against him.

"this doesn't mean i forgot what you said this morning," y/n's voice spoke, barely above a whisper but carlos heard it loud and clear.

"i'm sorry, hermosa," carlos kissed her forehead, moving to place kisses down her face, sighing softly. "forgive me?"

"you know, i already do," y/n whispered, holding his hand that rested on her stomach. "i'm sorry, i was being overdramatic earlier."

"no, no, no," carlos rushed to correct her, holding his face in her hands as he shook his head. "you were not being overdramatic. you just wanted to share something about our baby with me and i said something stupid and made you cry. i'm sorry."

"technically, these stupid pregnancy hormones made me cry," y/n answered, a slight giggle escaping her making carlos chuckle.

"i love you," carlos sighed, pulling me her impossibly closer to him. "so fucking much."

"i love you so much more," y/n turned head and pulled herself up so she could plant a kiss on his lips, smiling slightly when he pulled her back into another one. "you're the best."

"i think you confused yourself with me, sweetheart."

"of course i did," y/n laid her head back on the pillow, her hands fiddling with carlos' fingers. she couldn't help but feel her heart swell up with love for her fiancé and for her baby, who would be soon joining them.

she stayed there, for god knows how long, thinking of her perfect family before she turned her head towards carlos, not really seeing his face in the dark. with the way he was breathing evenly, the fact that he had not spoken in minutes and the hand that had been tracing shapes on the exposed skin of her stomach laid limp, she reckoned he fell asleep. and even though he was asleep and couldn't hear her, she couldn't help but say it one last time.

"i love you, so fucking much."

[anadiasmount]

imagine having an argument with jude and giving him attitude all day but he’s just so patient and so during your night routine while doing skin care or smth he’s all “darling im so sorry…” blah blah blah but then lectures you in a loving way to not ignore him and instead talk your feelings out 💋

okay but why would this be me?? i will hold onto that grudge until i feel time is right 😔🤞🏻this is slightly longer, and not proofread!! but like always hope you enjoy😘

your hands are interlocked together. well… kinda. his is fully locked with yours, fingers wrapped on your knuckles as your hand is just in place and fingers spread out. he’d been begging for your attention. a small smile, tiny meep, or even a small nudge from you. but you refused to even look at him. saving whatever you had to say in you to further cause tension in the car.

“y/n?”

“don’t talk to me. you might even forget what i’ll say the second i’m done speaking…”

“i want to talk it out! i wanna communicate that with you!”

“yet you didn’t care when i did… i don’t care jude!”

you forgot what you were even arguing about. it was just now you being petty and paying back like all those times he had done to you. clearly it was affecting him as he started to send you text messages to get a reaction. once again he was met with nothing. jude frowning and looking away like you were.

he knew if he removed his hand from yours he maybe would’ve gotten something at of you, but he knew how close and attached you were so jude retreated the idea, not wanting to face an even more upset and angry y/n. if there was jude one thing hated was seeing you mad, sad, upset, anything, because of him. knowing he was the reason he hated it.

of course jude hadn’t forgot what you were arguing about. you had insisted and told him repeatedly about the brunch date you had in morning with some other friends, to take out the trash out before the next day so it wouldn’t pile up, and to simply put away the clothes he had laying around.

jude knew it was to forget about the planned brunch date, but the other stuff he found slightly immature, even though he wouldn’t ever admit that to you. it obviously wasn’t okay to you, and the tone of voice he also spoke didn’t sit right with him. he was under a lot of pressure but if he had done what he was asked at first he wouldn’t be in the position.

jude got out quickly, opening the door for you as you stepped out and walked into the house. jude was about to pay the driver when he told him you had done so already. jude thanked him, rolling his eyes once he saw the front door open and you taking your boots off and heading upstairs.

“y/n? can we talk now?” he asked sighing and covering his face with his hand. “i don’t know? are you going to remember what i’ll have to say? or is it gonna be forgotten like our plans from today? the chores i laid for you? hmm, i vote yes! so no. i don’t want to talk to you,” you say sarcastic, crossing your arms and walked off, ignoring the plead from jude.

jude huffed in his place, becoming frustrated with your attitude and side remarks. it was clear you weren’t going to let it go. so now he was faced with also ignoring you cause he was mad or let you have you’d raided space and talk it out later.

jude being the inpatient and clingy boyfriend he was, gave it an hour before going into the living room where you scrolled on your phone. he couldn’t but you did, so you got up and went to the kitchen, grabbing a snack and sitting in the island. jude of course threw his hands in the air frustrated. you had to hold back the laugh paying attention to the get ready with me video on your phone.

later on when you went upstairs he followed up a few minutes after, seeing you snuggled up in your soft blanket reading a book with your glasses on. he approached you, but you then got up and walked off again on him, going downstairs and laid on the couch. jude clenched his jaw and laughed loudly. he had enough, all he wanted was to apologize and make it up to you.

he watched from afar, as your eyes kept shutting and opened again, many time before yawning and walking up the stairs again. jude had taken you silent treatment and showered, got ready for bed. not because he want to pay you back, but to finally talk with you. one thing you both agreed on was never going to sleep when either one was upset.

you had heard jude come up after setting the alarm system and ensuring everything was cleaned, locked, and lights turned off. you placed your book back on the shelf, your hair going into a messy updo as jude came to the door, bring to waters and your cup of tea. your heart warmed up, feeling bad for ignoring him the entire night when it was the only night together.

in all honesty you felt like he deserved it. it got to the point where he was clearly forgetting about you and what you said around him, feeling like a presence rather than his actual girlfriend. you didn’t want to seem like a bother but he was making you feel like one, and you hated it more than anything.

jude sat on the bathroom countertop, biting his nails as he watched you change out from your day clothes into your pjs. part of him felt like he won when you grabbed his shirt and put it on, the quickly remembered you were still mad at him. you looked down the entire time, a sad flint in your eyes as you started to take your makeup off.

he watched you rub and rub the cotton pad along your face, the water running as you used your nightly cleanser, the jiggle of the towel rack to pat your face dry. “i refuse to go to sleep knowing you’re still mad at me…” jude said making you stop brush your teeth and look up in the mirror. “okay then. all forgiven…” you shrugged, spitting out the excess hearing jude groan.

“please y/n! i’m trying to talk here. i’m being serious when i say i refuse to get on our bed, and you not even spanking a glance at me,” he said upset, getting up from the counter and over towering you. you said nothing and finished brushing your teeth.

you grabbed your last step of your skin care routine, looking up and breathing a bit deeper than before, controlling your emotions because you hated crying in front of people. “you really upset me today jude… for the first time ever i was starting to question if you ever paid attention to me or if i was being clingy…” you softly chucked.

jude immediately winced and got soft, going behind you and hugging your waist. the tight hold almost making you break down in tears before you could even speak. “i hate when you do that to me. it’s not the first time but it makes me feel like i’m not even there! i’m just a ghost or unwanted person in my own home!”

“i never ever, want to make you feel like that. especially in our home y/n! i can’t describe how incredibly sorry i am for making you feel that way. i had no idea and it’s absolutely horrible i know i know. i never wanted to make you feel uninvited or like you couldn’t say anything around me,” jude said behind your, his thumbs stroking the material of the shirt.

“i get you have a lot going on, believe me i do, but you have no right to embarrass me like that jude,” you say with eyes closed, jude nodding his head and then turning you around. “i know darling, i know. i can promise you right this second it won’t ever happen again! it was incredibly selfish and overall i hurt the person that means the world to me,” you felt his trembling hands and lips to your forehead.

“please don’t ever make me feel like that. like i have to overthink what i say, wear, think! nothing hurts more in the world then getting ignored by the person you love most,” you spoke softly, voice still laced with a tint of pain. “i understand baby. i promise i do pay attention and i do hear you,” jude spoke.

“did you really or is-”

“y/n please…”

“okay i’m sorry, i swear i’m done!” you giggle, jude bringing you impossibly closer to him. “i want you to talk to me rather than ignore me. i would rather you scream and yell angrily at how mad you are than have you say nothing to me for the whole evening,” jude said making you look up and nod, agreeing with him.

“i kid you not, i was ready to buy you the full bookstore and bring you a serenade to apologize,” he exaggerated making you laugh and look up at him once again. “not knowing how you’re feeling is the worst stress, especially cause of me… so please don’t make me go through that again…”

“don’t give me the reason too and i won’t,” you remind him, pointing your finger in his face to make things clear. jude saluted letting you know he understands and will play from the rules from now on. “okay now kiss me, because i really really really missed you today…”

“it would be my pleasure. i’m going to take you to bed first, show my beautiful girlfriend why she deserves every ounce of my attention…”

[floatyflowers]

Dark! Percy Jackson Reverse Harem x Reader|| Chapter Five

<<< Chapter Four

"My back hurts so bad right now"

"It must be the seats...There is no way this is what sacred smells like"

Percy whines, as all four of you sit in the back of the bus.

The blond boy feels bothered for not being able to sit beside you.

"We’re soldiers on a mission. It’s not a vacation." Annabeth shoots back.

You start scratching your back from the itchness and the pain.

"I will go to the bathroom in the store, be right back"

You announce and leave before they can say anything to you.

Percy stands up to follow you, but Annabeth forces him back in his seat.

"No, you will stay right there, I'm going to go check on her"

°°°

The moment Annabeth enters the toilet, she is shocked to see white wings on your back.

"Are those wings? And your eyes, they are red"

"Yes" you answer nervously.

"Oh...wow"

"I know, do you think I can fly with them?" you ask excitedly.

I mean it's every child's dream to have wings to fly.

And now you got the chance to do that.

"Your wings might cause a huge problem it will attract monsters"

"Don't worry, my dad gave me a music box to keep the monsters away"

You pull out the music box from your bag.

"Also, can humans see my wings?"

A woman enters the toilet after you ask that question.

She only washes her hands then walks out.

"No, they don't" Annabeth says after the woman leave.

"We need to leave, I sense that we are being followed by a monster"

You turn on the music box as a beautiful melody begins to play.

"This will keep us safe"

°°°

You and Annabeth walk into the bus with Annabeth shouting to the two boys to open the windows.

Percy only stares at you in surprise at your new appearance, then hurries off to break the window with Grover when he sees Mrs. Dodds.

As the passengers get off the bus when the driver announces emergency, one of the furies fly into the bus through the broken window.

The monster looks at you ready to approach you.

But the melody makes it scream in pain when it was close to touching you.

Annabeth takes her chance and throws her dagger at the fury, killing it as it turns into dust.

All four of you escape quickly.

°°°

"Hades has kidnapped your mother, (Y/n)"

Annabeth says, as you walk all together in the Satyr path.

"What? Why would he do that!" you exclaim, worried for your mother.

"Who told you that?" Percy inquires, looking at her in suspicion.

But before she could answer, Grover sniffs the air.

"Do you guys smell that?" 

"Grover, I’m not kidding..." Percy asserts.

"No, neither am I. Just shush."

"Hamburgers" you sigh at Grover, causing him to blush.

"I think you are just hungry, Grover"

"No, I'm not, somebody's making hamburgers in the middle of nowhere, on a satyr path. Whoever it is... they’re from our world."

°°°

You don't know what made you trust Percy and go inside Medusa's house along with Grover and Annabeth.

Probably because Mrs.Dodds is outside waiting to snatch you and Percy away.

"You're concerned I would hold a grudge against you simply because you are a daughter of Athena?"

You don't dare to look at Medusa even if she is hiding her eyes.

Medusa continues speaking to Annabeth.

"You shouldn’t be. We're not our parents after all. And you and I might have more in common than you think. Please, sit and eat."

Letting out a nervous breath after Medusa starts speaking to you.

"You must be the daughter of Calista, you look like her when she was your age."

Medusa notices that you are not looking at her, she could feel your fear.

"Your mother was a friend of mind, she visited me and told me about her encounters with the gods, poor thing, they wouldn't leave her"

"...They" you inquire.

"Your mother is the daughter of Nyx, her beauty attracted the attention of many gods including Poseidon, Hades, Apollo, Hermes, and Eros" 

Percy shivers at the thought that his father loved your mother.

Maybe he can succeed where his father failed.

"Your mother is an enchanteress not a demigod"

Grover jokes, but stops when Annabeth glares at him.

That must be why Hades kidnapped your mother.

Little do you know that you might up having a similar fate like your mother.

But with demigods instead.

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