#had this in my head the entire time while reading it

[totaly-obsessed]

Love, Tears, and Laundry

Leah Williamson x reader request

-> Leah comes home to find her oldest daughter upset, leading to heart-to-heart talks and a plan for a weekend getaway.

-> Thank you very much @alotofpockets for giving me the idea and help through the process!

-> Word count: 2.500

➳ Masterlist

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While the Leah that stood on the pitch was fierce and stoic, a smile often missed on her beautiful face, the Leah you knew at home was quite different. Sure she was still fierce, but in a protective way, but she was much more soft than anything, so soft for her four girls.

At eight years old, Lilly was the oldest, followed by six-year-old twins, Emma and Olivia, and they were the light of the footballer's life, joined by you, her wife of course. Three kids of such different characters definitely filled the house with more life than it had ever seen before.

It had been a long day for your wife, a tough matchday with following meetings going over the game before everyone forgot what happened. Leah had been so excited to go home and see her girls again, but as soon as she opened the front door she knew something was off.

Emmie and Ollie sat in the living room, complete silence filling the house. Not a single little girl stormed towards her.

“Did you two watch the game?”

Silence.

“Oof tough crowd. Where's Mumma?” Tiny hands pointed up the stairs, grave expressions on their little faces. These aren't the happy little girls Leah had expected. Usually, they ran to the door, happy to greet their mother after watching her win on the telly, if they couldn’t be there in person.

The first room Leah checked was Lilly’s, who sat in the tightest corner of her room, one of her favorite books in her hand, granting her mother just a short glance, before she went back to her book, completely ignoring the defender.

This was officially the frostiest atmosphere she had ever come home to.

After going through the entire house she finally found you in the basement, sobbing while doing laundry.

You were sitting on the floor, surrounded by piles of clothes, shoulders shaking with sobs as you clutched a crumpled piece of paper in your hand. Leah's heart sank at the sight of you like this, her own worries about the girls momentarily pushed aside by concern for you.

"Hey, baby," she murmured softly, kneeling down beside you and gently wrapping her arms around your trembling form. "What's wrong?"

You looked up at her with tear-filled eyes, the distress evident in your expression. Without a word, you handed her the paper, and Leah unfolded it, her brows furrowing as she read the contents.

I really hate you right now Mommy.

"Oh, love," Leah whispered, her heart aching for both you and Lilly. She pulled you into a tighter embrace, offering what little comfort she could in that moment. "We'll figure this out together, okay? We're a team.”

Seeing you like this pained the defender - what had happened that you were handed that note?

“What happened, love?”

She had now sat down beside you, pulling you close to her side. A warm hand stroked your back in soothing motions, while the other guided your head into your wife's neck. The smell was familiar and comforting, simultaneously hiding you from the world - even if the world right now was just the laundry room.

“Lilly and I picked the twins up from training, got ice cream, and then went home.” You had to take a second, sobs still wrecking your body, as Leah tried to wipe away a steady stream of tears with small kisses all over your face. “Emmie and Ollie put your game on, just in time for the second half, and then Lils started shouting at them.” 

The blonde defender had trouble understanding you in certain parts, voice still thick with sadness. Lilly shouting at her sisters? A hard picture to imagine.

“A-And then I stepped in, she stomped upstairs and came back with the note, and -” a painful sob wrecked your body “and she yelled ‘I hate you’ in my face Lee.”

This sounded a lot more serious than Leah had expected if she was being honest. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, my love. How could she? You’re the best mother there is!”

Your tears subsided, but there were still wet streaks running down your puffy cheeks, breaking Leah’s heart even further. “I’ll talk to her. Wanna get a nice, warm bath?” A quick sigh left her mouth when she saw your shaking head. She should have known. “I can’t Lee. Have to finish this laundry.”

After thankful kisses from you, and helping you up, Leah made her way back up the stairs, passing the living room, where Emma and Olivia were still sitting quietly.

“I’ll go talk to Lills, yeah? Are you two okay here?” Both blondes nodded, not even looking at their mother. “We’re fine Mumma.”

With slow steps she walked up the stairs, playing a full 90 minutes was much harder now than it was when she was younger. She didn't just spend all her energy on a pitch, she had three beautiful daughters to play with and to parent - that takes a lot of energy.

“Lilly?”

She didn’t receive an answer, but quiet sobs led her through the long hallway all the way to the end where the room of her oldest daughter was. The colorful, hand-painted door was slightly ajar, letting the blonde know that it was pitch black inside.

“Darls? Are you in here?” She was no longer in her corner with a book.

The sobs got louder the closer she got to the bed, and after a quick tug at one of the colorful blankets that formed a mountain on her oldest bed gave the location away when she heard a surprised gasp.

The room got quiet, Lilly hoping that her mother would just leave her alone if she acted like she wasn't there. But Leah picked her up from her mattress, still wrapped in multiple soft blankets like she was a toy in a claw machine. 

Her oldest gave a small “Eeek!” of surprise before slumping into her mother's arms. Leah gave her best to make it playful, acting like she couldn’t find Lilly’s face, tickling her feet and talking to her hand before she finally unraveled the blankets. 

You always liked to say that looks wise, your oldest daughter could have been Leah’s twin. The blonde hair, the fair skin, and the twinkling eyes that usually were on her face. She also laughed the same and possessed the same hard-working spirit, determined to be top of the class while trying out as many hobbies as she could.

But right now, there was no smile on her face. Her little face was all red and puffy, tear streaks still on her cheeks, while her eyes were still glassy. And in that moment Leah was glad that you didn’t see the girl in her current state, knowing that it would have broken your heart even further. Right now she looked more like you - matching sad faces.

“I think we need to talk Lills.” With a whine, the eight-year-old tried to bury her face in her mother's shoulder after climbing on her lap, but the defender knew that she needed to have an actual conversation with her daughter. As gently as she could Leah pulled the small blonde from her hiding spot, sitting her down opposite from her on the bed.

“I’m sorry Mumma.” Small hands wiped at never-ending tears until Leah gave her a tissue and the water bottle off of her nightstand.

“What are you sorry for, darling?”

Lilly had gulped down nearly the entirety of the bottle before giving it back to Leah, who just watched in surprise at how thirsty her daughter was. Seems like crying takes a lot of energy out of such a small human.

“I- I was mean to Mama an- and I shouted. Was mean…”

With a soft coo, Leah pulled Lilly in for a hug, small arms squeezing her as hard as they could while soft puffs of air hit her neck.

“Thank you for apologizing Lilly, but I am not the one you should say that to darling.” Her oldest nodded, she knew that, but she also felt bad that Leah now had to calm her down. And she knew that Mama wasn’t doing too good either, she really had been mean. “I know Mumma. I will apologize to Mama, promise.”

“Can you tell me what happened, that you said those words to Mama?”

Leah could feel the deep breath that Lilly dragged in, before she sat up, leaving her mother's warm embrace. She gathered herself before trying to explain what happened.

“Mama and I picked up Emmie and Ollie from training, and I wanted to go to the bakery, but they wanted ice cream. A- and Mama said, that they deserved it for training so hard, b- but -” She took a little break from talking, her voice shaky as she was getting herself worked up again.

Leah handed her the water bottle again, warning her not to gulp it down. “But I wanted a croissant so badly, an’ I’ve been training real hard too.” She really had been training a lot, also following in her Mother’s footsteps but more in the gymnastics department as football wasn’t her thing.

“In the car, the twins were loud, like really loud Mumma. An’ Mama told ‘em to stop, but they didn’t” Sadly that was a regular occurrence that Leah had no clue of, her schedule didn’t allow her to pick them up or drop them off at training, so the energy after training was something new to her.

“At home, I wanted to watch my show - the one with the doggos, but Mama said that we had to watch you on the Telly. An’ I already missed last week and before that.” The defender kept nodding at her daughter, making little hums, to show her that she was still listening without interrupting her story.

“Mama didn’t want to watch my new floor skill that I learned yesterday. Said she was too busy makin’ dinner and laundry at the same time. Then you came home.” Lilly was done with her story, taking deep breaths and another gulp out of her bottle, finishing it off.

“Thank you for telling me, darling. But when did you shout at Mama and give her the note?” Now she knew why her daughter was sad and needed to figure out why her wife was sad. So she had to fish for the little details Lilly let out of her story.

The small blonde tried to avoid her mother's eyes, which looked a lot like her own, just less red and puffy. “When she didn’t wanna watch me.” Slowly Leah could make sense of what had happened.

“So you yelled at her, that you hated her, and gave her the note before you came up here?” Lilly’s head hung deep in shame when she nodded, She really regretted what she had said to her Mama. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to go and say sorry to Mama? Explain how you feel. Then we can talk about how we fix this, but you really hurt Mama.” 

“Yeah.”

Hand in Hand the two blondes trotted down the stairs, where the living room was filled with a little more life than it had been before, but you were still nowhere to be seen. But the twins were quick to tell their big sister that you were in your and Leah’s bedroom.

“Mama?” The room was dark when she pushed the door open, gripping the handle like her life depended on it. When she looked back at Leah she just got a thumbs up with a wonky grin, trying to gesture to her that she should go in.

“Yes, Darling?" She could hear your shaky voice, it was so similar to her younger sisters, that it was almost uncanny. Lilly had also never seen you cry because of sadness before - aside from sad movies, while your wife kept laughing at you.

With slow steps your oldest daughter made her way to the bed, stopping just in front of it as she held her hands out. Tears started to form again in your eyes - Leah does the same thing when you’re sitting on the bed or the couch. She stands in front of you and holds your hands while keeping intense eye contact, letting you know that her entire focus is on you. And now Lilly does the same. She really is an observant little girl.

“I wanted to say sorry Mama.” Her small hands were clammy and warm, showing her nerves as she gave her best to keep her voice steady. “And I would like to explain if you’d listen to me.”

“Of course darling.” You had pulled her up on the bed and instead of just sitting and looking at you, she promptly pushed you into the pillows and cuddled into your side, her eyes still focused on your face.

The 8-year-old poured her heart out to you, just like she had done to your wife, who was now trying to keep the twins busy with little ball games in the living room while you and Lilly talked in the comfort of your bed. 

Leah felt like a creep as she pressed her head to her own bedroom door after giving you 30 minutes together, trying to listen for any sounds that could indicate more tears - but it was silent. With a gentle knock, she opened the door.

Lilly was sprawled out on top of you, eyes still open as she quietly whispered her gymnastic stories to you, while one of your hands brushed through her hair. Leah was honestly surprised that both of you were still awake, this had been a lot.

“Hi, girls!” Her oldest daughter sat up quickly, opening her arms, gesturing for her mother to join you on the bed. “Baby I wanna say something real quick, okay?” Lilly nodded her hair still a mess, no matter how much you bushe’d it with your fingers.

“It was never our intention to ignore you, or your needs and wishes - and Mama and me, we are very sorry.” A smile took place on Lilly’s face, she could see and feel that both you and Leah genuinely meant it. “Thank you for apologizing.” You couldn’t help but laugh at how much she sounded like her mother, with the same tone, eyes, and light smile on her lips.

As gently as you could you caressed her cheek, brushing over it with your thumb as your daughter leaned into your touch. “And we are very proud of you, and we are super glad that you told us - even if the way there was a little complicated.”

All three of you had to giggle but stopped abruptly when something loud crashed downstairs. “What do you think of me calling Grandma and see if she’ll take the little troublemakers for the weekend, and we’ll do something together? Just the 3 of us?”

The smile finally reached Lilly’s eyes again, as her grin mirrored that of the defender. “Yes please, Mumma!”

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Safer to Kiss (part 2) - Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

read part 1 here!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 3236

Summary: the day after drunkenly kissing your best friend and coworker, Spencer Reid, the BAU catches a case. Lots of talking with other members of the team, general group dynamic chaos, and ✨Pining✨

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, normal Criminal Minds violence, maybe some mild cursing? Mostly just pining teehee

A/N: thank you so much to everyone who interacted with part 1! I am so pumped about this lil series, and part 3 is already started 🙈 I love love LOVE hearing from you guys, it makes me so happy and inspired to continue writing. 🥹 also not my gif, all credit to the owner bc LOOK AT HIS LIL FACE

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Spencer’s hands were on your hips. Spencer’s hands were on your hips. Suddenly the three glasses of wine and 2 glasses of champagne were null and void, because you felt completely sobered by the time your mouth pulled away from his. The reality of the situation hit you like a bus - you, in a drunken stupor, had stupidly, idiotically, irreversibly kissed your best friend. Right on the lips. There was no excusing it as a friendly peck on the cheek.

Your entire face felt hot as you pulled away, and as Spencer’s hands retracted to his own space. You felt wobbly - okay, maybe you hadn’t sobered up - and when you were once again leaning against the railing of the stairs on your apartment building’s stoop, you blinked a few times.

Spencer blinked a few times, too, as if to process what had just happened. He’d tasted like red wine, which you saw he’d only had one single glass of tonight, and spearmint gum. The combination reminded you of spring.

Your best friend tasted like spring.

Your eyes widened, buggy, as if they might pop out of your head, and you opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Spencer spoke instead, with an earnest expression on his face. “Y/N-“

“Thanks for getting me home in one piece, okay, goodnight!” You rambled off, the words sliding off your tongue like they were on a luge, all blurring together into one, long megaword. You slid in behind the door and stumbled up to your unit before you could say another word.

You couldn’t believe yourself, replaying the moment on your stoop over and over as you locked the door, leaning against it and running your hand over your face. Spencer’s expression had been completely dumbfounded when you pulled away from the kiss. There was no doubt in your mind that he had been about to politely reject you, in that way that only he could do. I’m sorry, Y/N, but I think we’re better off as friends, he would say, simultaneously humiliating you and ripping your heart in half.

That’s why you’d cut him off, before he could say anything, before he could address the situation, before either of you had to acknowledge that it had actually happened.

You slept poorly that night, your anxiety getting the best of you. It was that look on Spencer’s face, how you just knew he was going to tell you in the kindest, most sensitive tone that he didn’t like that you kissed him. And your Nan’s voice ringing in your head - You’ll find someone someday, Button. You’ll be just as happy as your sister someday, Button.

You tossed and turned, and woke up with a violent hangover. All the coffee in the world was not enough to cure the aftershock of the night before.

Your stomach was in knots, a lethal combination of hangover ickies and irreversible mistake anxiety, and as you took a cab to work, you leaned your head against the seat behind you.

You flashed your badge to security and boarded the elevator to ride up to the sixth floor. The doors opened to reveal Penelope Garcia, clutching a stack of folders to her chest, waiting for you.

“Good morning, pumpkin,” Penelope flashed a smile, then grabbed you by the wrist, practically yanking you along behind her as she headed towards the conference room. Your head was pounding and while you loved Penelope with all your heart, in that moment, you wanted to throttle her. “You look horrible. We’ll discuss that later, and don’t even think about trying to internalize it and brush me off. I might not be a super magic genius psychic profiler, but I can tell when one of my love-bugs has had a wild night and I want details. Unfortunately for you, darling, you have a case. Hotch asked me to pull you directly into the conference room. Everyone’s waiting.”

Usually, when Penelope rambled on like that, you were able to keep up. In this weakened state, however, the words hit you like someone throwing putty against a wall, and it took a minute to process. You found yourself standing in front of the closed door of the conference room, with slackened posture and narrowed eyes. “Okay,” you managed to murmur before Penelope dragged you behind her, into the conference room.

You could feel the team’s eyes on you as you slumped into the empty seat. You avoided eye contact with everyone, especially Spencer, projecting to the room that you were not to be asked about your disheveled appearance and obvious headache. You spared a glance at Spencer. He looked perfect, as per freakin’ usual, with a purple button-up dress shirt and a dark tie over it. He sat up straight in his desk chair, as if last night hadn’t affected him in the slightest. You hated that.

Hotchner cleared his throat. “Let’s begin. Garcia?”

Penelope’s eyes lingered on you, fluttering from you to Spencer, and you watched as she seemed to resist the urge to say anything. “Ooookay,” she spoke, drawing the word out as she stood before the table. She used the TV remote to present the case’s info on the monitor. “We’ve got a local case today, my fine furry friends. Three men killed in three weeks,” you took a drink of the water in front of you as Penelope presented three driver’s license photos on the TV screen. “All bodies have been identified. Twenty-three-year-old Harvey Gibson, twenty-nine-year-old Kyle Moore, and twenty-eight-year-old Malcolm Greene. All three were found in alleys in downtown D.C, cause of death multiple stab wounds to the chest, stomach, and genitals.”

You choked on your water when you saw the last photo. Malcolm Greene, as in, Malcolm Greene, the guy you spoke to last night at the art gallery? You remembered spotting him from across the room, and thinking about how Spencer had said he’d gone on a date (albeit, an unsuccessful one) over the weekend, and you wanted to prove to yourself that you could be interested in other men. And then you’d gone over to Malcolm, spoke to him for an embarrassing two minutes and twelve seconds, and walked back to Spencer with a red face. And now he was dead?

Concerns about your relationship with your best friend aside, your eyes met Spencer’s across the conference table and the two of you seemed, for a moment, to fall back into your old dynamic, having a somewhat telepathic conversation with just your expressions.

That’s the guy…? Spencer seemed to say, his brows furrowed slightly.

A subtle bob of your head was how you responded. Yep, that’s him.

Spencer’s mouth formed a straight line, a mannerism that everyone around the table seemed to notice.

“Reid, Y/L/N, what’s going on?” Derek piped up, inclining his head to the side curiously. “Something you’d like to share with the class?”

Spencer’s mouth opened as if he were about to spill the beans, but he paused, seemingly deciding not to rattle off whatever he was going to say. Instead, he gestured to you.

“Spencer and I went to an art gallery after work last night,” you sighed, feeling your cheeks turn pink. “I may have… flirted, briefly, with Malcolm Greene.”

Derek let out a low whistle, and you saw Emily and JJ share an amused look. Rossi was even cracking a smirk.

Only Hotch remained as stoic as ever. “How long did you speak with him?” He asked.

“Two minutes, twelve seconds,” you and Spencer said simultaneously, and your eyes snapped to his across the table. You swallowed the lump in your throat and somehow felt your whole face turn even redder.

“Some smooth-talker you are,” Derek snickered, and you shot him a glare. Penelope, standing behind him, smacked his shoulder. “Did you get his digits that fast?”

“I don’t really see how that’s pertinent to the case,” you protested, sitting up straight and crossing your arms over your chest.

“It’s just like any other witness interview, Y/N,” Hotch reminded you calmly, shooting the rest of the team a warning glance. “Even the most minute detail could help.” He seemed to realize that you were humiliated, and that the rest of the team’s eyes on you were not helping the situation. “We can talk about it later,” he compromised.

“So, multiple stab wounds to the chest, stomach, and genitals, huh?” Rossi offered as a rough transition back to the topic at hand. Across the table, you heard Emily stifle a laugh.

“Yes, sir. All bodies were posed in a classic casket fashion, arms folded across their chests, eyes closed,” Penelope reported.

“Sign of remorse,” JJ noted, jotting it down on her pad of paper.

“Any cash missing from their wallets, or jewelry missing off their body?” Hotchner asked.

“No, sir, all wallets were found in the clothes of the victims, presumably where they had been kept untouched,” Penelope answered.

“So, not a robbery gone wrong,” Rossi concluded.

“The disposal of the bodies feels inconsistent with the cause of death,” Spencer pointed out, twirling his pen around his finger. His cadence was quick and pensive. “Multiple stab wounds to those particular areas of the body indicate intense rage at the time of the murder, disposing them in alleyways seems to be a choice of opportunity and convenience, but posing the bodies is a sign of remorse, like the UnSub suddenly realizes what he’s done and regrets it.”

“Do the victims have any friends or family in common?” You asked, crossing your ankles beneath the table.

“As far as my preliminary scans can tell, all three men were completely unrelated,” Penelope said. “The only common denominator is how they died and how their bodies were disposed of.”

“Not entirely,” Emily pointed out, standing up and using her pen as a pointer, gesturing to the three ID photos on the screen.

“Don’t these guys all look… strikingly similar?” Emily proposed. All men were white, with aquiline noses, dark hair, and dark eyes. “In fact, don’t they all look exactly like someone we know?”

You took in a sharp breath, just as Penelope let out a small gasp and Derek let out a soft chuckle. “They’re all pretty boys, like Pretty Boy,” Derek laughed.

“So our UnSub has a type,” JJ added.

Derek smirked. “The UnSub and Y/N both have a type.”

Your face turned bright red, and your jaw tensed. You felt Spencer’s eyes on you for a fleeting moment, and before you could say anything, Hotchner stepped in. “Let’s get going on this. Reid, JJ, and Morgan, I want you at the crime scene. Prentiss, Rossi, and Y/L/N, come with me to the local police precinct and interview family and friends. Garcia, too.”

There was an array of agreements murmured, and everyone began to disperse. You wanted to shake Derek by the shoulders for his little comment, especially after all the teasing you took when you realized the man you briefly spoke to last night was now dead.

You were on your way back to your desk when you felt a light touch on your elbow. When you saw it was Spencer, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Can we talk for a second?” He asked, and you shook your head.

Pointing pathetically to your desk, you responded, rather articulately, with, “The case…”

“Yeah, I know. The case. But, Y/N, we have to talk about last night,” Spencer said, looking down at you. Even though you were actually tall for a woman, Spencer still had at least four inches of height on you. Maybe five. “I mean, you just, like, escaped from me the first second that you could. Was it…?”

You furrowed your brows, confused as to what Spencer was trying to say. “Did you mean to kiss me?” He asked.

This was it. This was the out. He was giving it to you, whether he knew it or not. This was the opportunity to take it all back, to say it was a mistake. You could blame it on the wine, on your Nan’s phone call, on Malcolm - what was he gonna do, sell you out?

The chance to save your friendship with Spencer Reid was right there, and you stood there and you looked up at Spencer with your mouth open, words ready to spill out, when -

“Hey, Reid, you coming, man?”

Saved by the Morgan.

You saw Spencer’s jaw tighten, and he exhaled sharply. You were still frozen, unsure of what to say, of how to say it, so when Spencer simply frowned at you and then turned around to join Derek, you weren’t surprised.

You ran your hands over your face, still reeling, foggy from your hangover, thoroughly embarrassed from the entire situation.

“Y/N,” Rossi’s voice piped up, and you turned to see him with an arched brow. “C’mon, we gotta get going,” he gestured for you to follow him.

You sighed, your shoulders slumped, as you joined Rossi. You boarded the elevator with him, just the two of you, to head down to one of the Bureau’s black SUVs. “What’s going on with you?” Rossi asked, furrowing his brows.

In terms of group dynamics, David Rossi was like the team’s mother, in comparison to Hotchner, who was most certainly the patriarch of the BAU. You loved Rossi. He was kind, fairly level-headed, and he always stuck his neck out for the people he cared about. He also was pretty funny, and could make a killer lasagna. All those merits aside, you so did not want to talk about it.

“Not right now, Dave,” you shook your head, leaning against the wall of the elevator, running your palms down your thighs.

Rossi nodded understandingly, but you had an inkling he wasn’t about to just drop it. “I get it. Hungover, in a weird spot with Reid-“

“I’m not in a weird spot with Reid,” you corrected him, and Rossi smirked, knowing he had gotten you to crack. You shot him a (mostly) playful glare. “I had maybe a little too much to drink last night. And I maybe had, accidentally, perhaps…” you groaned, rolling your eyes at the idiocy of your actions the night before. “I kissed Spencer last night. It only lasted for, like, a minute, and right when it was over, I freaked out and went inside my apartment, and now things are just, like, weird between us. And I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, kiddo,” Rossi began, and you pursed your lips. He always hit you with a kiddo when he was about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear. “As a person who has been with many romantic partners-“

You feigned a gag.

Rossi just chuckled and continued. “I think you have to ask yourself - how do you want Spencer to react? Would you prefer to bury this and never speak of it again, or is this the catalyst you needed to finally tell him how you feel?”

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you mean, tell him how I feel?” You asked, playing dumb. Maybe Rossi was just grasping at straws.

“Oh, c’mon, kid, we’ve all seen how you look at each other. The only person who doesn’t know that you’re in love with Spencer is, well, Spencer.”

You felt your entire face flush. “You’re not serious,” you chuckled in disbelief.

Rossi looked at you and batted his eyelashes in a very feminine expression. The expression dropped and he said, “You make this lovestruck school girl expression at him at least once a day.”

“I do not!” You crossed your arms over your chest defensively, just as the elevator dinged, signaling your arrival to the Quantico lobby.

“Yeah, kid, you do. It’s pretty cute, actually. You’re like two lovesick puppies, chasing each other’s tails.”

“He does not think of me like that, Rossi,” you insisted indignantly, your voice taking a more hushed tone as the two of you walked at the same quick pace through the lobby, and outside towards the garage of Bureau vehicles.

The sun hit your face just as Rossi spoke again. “You’re such a good profiler, Y/N. How do you not see it?”

You decided not to dignify Rossi’s opinion with a response. Rather, you just shook your head and continued towards the garage to meet up with Prentiss and Garcia.

When you arrived at the police precinct, Garcia set up in the conference room, and you, Emily and Rossi each took turns interviewing the next of kin for the victims. You interviewed the mother of the first victim, Harvey Gibson.

An art student at Georgetown, steady boyfriend for three years he planned to propose to on Christmas, no criminal record, called his mother every other day. He was a good kid. Comforting his mother, walking her through all the questions the police had asked her three weeks ago — it was always a lot. But with your head already fuzzy and your mind on other Reid-related things, by the time you escorted Mrs. Gibson out of the police station and thanked her for her time, you felt heavy.

It didn’t help when the team reconvened about an hour later, sitting around a conference room at the local police station. You could tell Spencer’s eyes were floating to yours every so often, but you refused to meet them. You were working right now. You couldn’t let the revelation with Rossi distract you from your job.

Penelope took the lead, addressing the entire team. “So, our original thought of the three victims being unrelated actually has turned out to be incorrect,” she began. “Not only do all three of our victims look alike, but they all visited the same art gallery twenty-four hours prior to their murders.”

“Not the one we went to last night?” Spencer asked.

“No,” Penelope clarified. “From Emily’s discussion with Malcolm Greene’s brother, along with tracking the location of the other two victims’ cell phones prior to their deaths, we can determine that all three victims visited a different art gallery - The Restful Owl, just two blocks over from where you and Y/N went last night.”

“So, the victims all meet a certain physical description,” JJ recapped. “Brown hair, brown eyes, early-to-late twenties, and all visited The Restful Owl art gallery.”

“The gallery seems like a solid lead,” Hotch agreed. “All three victims were interested in art in some capacity - Harvey Gibson was studying art, Kyle Moore worked at an art museum, Malcolm Greene was a collector.”

“Perhaps the ruse the UnSub used was related to a particular piece or artist,” Spencer proposed, wrapping and unwrapping his fingers around his pen. “We should get the security tapes from each victim’s visit to the gallery, observe who they spoke to, how they reacted to specific pieces. Maybe the UnSub lured these men to the sites of their deaths by promising them a deal on a work, or something of the sort.”

“Good idea,” said Hotchner. “Prentiss, Morgan, follow up with the gallery. If there’s a specific person or piece all three victims stopped to interact with, I think our next step is pretty clear.”

“What’s that?” Penelope asked.

“We send in someone who just so happens to be exactly the UnSub’s type to the art gallery as bait,” Rossi concluded.

All eyes, including yours, moved across the table, landing on Spencer.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert

[hellavile]

━━━ ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 & 𝑤𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 ♱ t.f

warnings 𑄽𑄺 4.6k. fem reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded, university setting, violence i.e fighting, readers obsessed & it's lowkey giving omega/alpha trope lmao, public sex at a skate park, running from police, oral [ m.], riding, titty sucking, praise, minors aren't allowed!

━━━ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱ ; this is a repost of one of my old fics so enjoy!

blood. it's seeped into the pearl white t-shirt of the man walking down the hall past you, dripping from his mouth, the look in his eyes careless as he held onto the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. to this day it felt like you were seeing him in slow motion. you could still hear how fast your heart paced, the intense eye contact between you two, your sneakers squeaking against the university's floors, hallway empty other than you, and the professor beside him.

his other hand was buried into his jean pockets, strolling with his chin up as if he wasn't phased by his injury, like he barely felt it. the dark-haired man burned his eyes into you, side-eyeing you and your skimpy cheer uniform, wanting to smirk at how entranced you were by him but couldn't given the pain on his face. for some reason you wanted so badly to ask if he was okay. clearly, he wasn't. the man had just been in a brutal fight where a student cut the side of his mouth with a switchblade. this you found out later in the day at lunch. people wouldn't stop talking about it. fushiguro, they called him. it was only his last name, simply because that's all people would refer to him as.

there was no explanation for your sudden infatuation for him. it was nonsensical. you never felt anything like that before, and you've only looked at him for literally no more than ten seconds. it was even more intense the moment you walked past each other, both of you looked back to catch another gaze for a few seconds, only you were too stunned, eyes widening and quickly whirling your head back around. he was suspended. why? he wasn't even the one to start the fight. since he had a reputation, it was easy for the school to see him as the bad apple. you actually despised the fact that the culprit who started the brawl was back in school only a week after while fushiguro remained absent.

i want to see him again. he's all you could think about. this town wasn't too big, so it's odd that you haven't gotten even a glimpse of him the entire two weeks he's been gone. not while walking the streets, not the mall where every person in town visited—then again he didn't seem like the type to do that. not the tattoo shop you worked at part time . . . nothing. friday comes around and you're stuck at work, the usual. since the shop you worked at didn't close until 2AM, your manager decided to let you out an hour early just to rest up for the weekend, thankfully off.

for some odd reason, you weren't tired, even after working a full week on top of dealing with courses and mastering cheer routines. balling the plaid black and white flannel your hands created sweater paws with tighter in your fist, you stroll peacefully down the sidewalks looking at the pretty city lights, blasting rock music until coming into view with an overnight bodega, wanting a few snacks for the night since you knew you were going to be up reading on your phone until possibly five in the morning.

you're greeted by the owner, smiling and waving, making sure to turn down your music to listen in on your surroundings. grabbing mostly chips and beef sticks, you hold all of your junk to your chest while making your way over to the refrigerators, needing a real drink since you haven't had one since jesus invented the calendar. trailing your fingers across the cool cans, you scrunch your face up at any budweiser, yards, or bud light. beer? hell no. wine sounded more like it. as you go to reach for a bottle, you catch a glimpse at a buff man at the front counter; midnight hair, all black clothing, knu skool vans, and a skateboard clutched between his right underarm hand. his items are being rung up, but you can't stop staring, squinting your eyes knowingly towards the stranger. why does he look so familiar?

"see you around, fushiguro," the man waves off, your eyes widening at the name, nearly tripping over a rack full of peanuts as you watch him nod once and exit the store, seeing the side of his face where his recent scar laid.

he's already out the store, and you rush to the counter, checking out after having to show your i.d. for the wine, saying goodnight as you snatch the clear plastic bag with a 'thanks!' and rush towards the mysterious man halfway down the block. he has his airpods in, so he doesn't hear how loud you're breathing or the thuds of your sneakers hitting the gravel. you practically bunny hop beside him making the insanely huge man jump a little, thick brows scrunching with annoyance at the inconvenience beside him. he pauses his music, never stopping his tracks as he continues to walk with you beside him.

"hey, stranger," you cheekily grin.

"hey," his voice is gruff, slightly scratchy. you clear your throat, ignoring the whiplash you were just given. "what are you doing out this late? pretty girls should be home around this time. it's not safe."

wow, protective already. you raise your brows at his sentence, slightly shocked he didn't tell you to fuck off—at least with that wording. wait, he called me pretty?!

"pretty girls have adult responsibilities. i just got off of work. besides, shouldn't reckless students be on house arrest around this time?"

he ignores you, so you come up with something else. "how's your scar?"

"it's a scar," he sighs.

"when will you be back in school?"

"not sure."

"in my opinion, i think that jackass dick sucker should get his shit kicked in. what fucktard cuts someone in the face?"

the man stops abruptly, causing you to let out an 'oof' as you bump into his side, the man giving you zero attention as he drops his skateboard on the ground to use, stepping onto it and begins to stroll away.

you drop your mouth open. "rude!"

"why are you talking to me?" he doesn't even have to yell, his voice is deep enough for you to still hear him. huffing, you jog towards him, trying your best to keep up with him.

"i like you!" you groan, irritated that he was being so ignorant, and that he was making you run in a goddamn skirt.

fushiguro laughs, and the reaction stuns you, as if he wasn't capable of such an action. "you don't know me. we go to the same uni, that doesn't make us friends."

"i'd like to be your friend, though, asshole."

"i don't need any friends."

"a girlfr—"

"no," he shuts down sternly, stopping at a walkway, looking both ways before crossing the street. you roll your eyes, chewing your inner cheek when you notice he's heading to a skate park just across the road, dark and empty, a few street lights illuminating just enough light for him to see the cemented ramps.

like he's getting away from talking to me that easily. you let a car pass by before rushing behind the muscular man, fushiguro seeing your presence once more and releasing an exasperated sigh. he just wanted to be alone. "guessing 'no' isn't in your vocabulary," he scowls, taking a seat at the edge of a ramp.

"no," you say, a cocky smile following.

he scoffs, digging into his grocery bag for a pack of skittles and a green apple flavored vape pen, laying on his back on the gravel to stare up at the moon, blowing out the vapor he sucked into his mouth. you pout your lips, taking a seat next to him, reaching into your bag for your wine, knocking a few sips down in silence.

"what's your deal?"

"i just find you interesting."

"no one talks to me. so why are you?"

"not even pretty girls like me?" biting your lip, you scan over his face, and it remains the same; stagnant. "i know there's women bowing at your feet to fuck you."

   toji rolls his eyes, a habit. "whoever i fuck is none of your concern."

   "so he's not a virgin, duly noted," you whisper to yourself.

   "name."

   "[♡]."

   "cute," is all he says before standing to his feet, taking one more puff out of his pen before grabbing his skateboard and positioning it on the ledge of the ramp, steadily dropping his foot and falling down. you watch him with fascination as he skates, laying your chin in your palms with your elbows on your knees, leaning in like an attentive child. he looked so pretty under the moonlight.

   this daydream ends when you notice a group of four men far behind bushes, titling your head to see them clearly. one of them, lanky with shoulder-length blonde hair, is seen handing the person before him a clear bag with tablets in them, and in return, gets cash. they're dealing drugs. minding your business, you turn your attention back to fushiguro whom notices this, and easily you can see the anger flash in his eyes as he jumps off his skateboard and lands on his feet beside you. it's not until the group of three approaches the two of you that you see why he's mad.

   the guy dealing drugs just so happened to be river, aka the asshole who slashed his face. he stalks closer with a nasty laugh, clicking his tongue as he keeps mainly his attention on the big man beside you. "fushiguro!"

   "toji," he corrects, not fond of people using his last name. toji, you repeat in your head. hot.

   "good to see you all healed."

   "healed is an understatement."

   awe shit, you just know some shit is going down. you gather yourself, standing nearby but not too far behind him.

   "the fuck do you want?" toji snarls, and you swallow your own lips, barricading an inappropriate sound.

   river holds up a few clear zip lock bags stashed with drugs from his hoodie pocket, jangling them with a grin. "selling the goods. do you want some? ohh, wait. that's rude of me, i forgot you lived in a household full of mentally unstable people who feen for drugs."

you couldn't help but fix your posture and stand in front of toji before he beat the asshole to a pulp. by all means, don't hesitate. but, you wanted your turn first. toji doesn't allow it to phase him, since he's heard similar things a million times. what's funny is that this kid barely knows him, yet he seemed to acquire so much intel on his life.

"watch your fucking mouth," you seethe, face close to his and fists balled up. "before i cut your tongue out, then what will you have to talk shit?"

"out the way, bitch," river snarls, his hand wrapping tightly around your arm to yanking you to the side. "none of this has to do with you."

murder could sum up the stone cold stare in toji's eyes, the man inhaling before kicking his skateboard away, emerging forward with his head slightly cocked to the side. until you make this direct back to you by standing back in between again, scowling up at river who's ready to strike you this time, but, doesn't have the chance as you ball your fist and punch him hard across his jaw, not once either. the second hit is an uppercut. then comes the finale; kneeing him in the dick where he stumbles to the ground with a strained grunt.

toji stares down at the back of your head with an impressed raise of his brow, an ounce of his anger sufficing.

"last thing i am is a bitch. i'll fuck you up if you say some stupid shit like that to me again. the fuck," you're not even half done, marching forward until toji grabs your forearm and stops you, whipping your head around to catch his gaze, telling you to chill out without saying it. really, he's amused. but this isn't your fight.

he crosses around you, crouching down to river's level, latching his hand around his collar and dragging him to his feet without any emotion implanted on his face. it's all in his eyes. he's pissed that he insulted you. furious that he scarred his perfectly imperfect face. the nerve.

"the only reason you're alive is because i couldn't kill you on school grounds. don't think you're getting away so easily after what you did to my fucking face."

punch. the hit is so hard it makes you jump, practically hearing the bones in river's nose crack as toji hits him again, and again, again. all in his face to make a point. he's bleeding excessively, his so called 'friends' waiting until he's half beaten to try in step in.

"step back unless you wanna get fucked up next," he points, voice ravenous, making the two men freeze nervously. you shift in your spot, pushing back the acknowledgment of dampness between your legs.

"like i was saying," toji sniffs, ducking when river makes a lousy attempt at throwing a punch, toji grabbing his wrist, balling it in his palm as if it were a piece of paper, twisting his arm as river screams. toji pins it behind his back, shoving him down on the ground where he then presses his right shoe on the side of his bruised face. "don't look so tough without your knife now, huh? you're stupid to even try that on someone you just met. you don't know me. you don't know where the fuck i'm from."

   "fuck. you," he spits out blood over toji's vans. you hold a hand over your heart dramatically, upset about him ruining his shoe. not so much about the fact that he's brutally assaulting a freshman, a kid. a kid whose also old enough to know right from wrong. he stepped into the wrong territory like an adult, so now, he'll get his ass whopped like one. he's lucky toji didn't press charges.

should i kill him? he wanted too, badly. the kid ruined his face, a scar impossible of fading into nothingness. it's there for life. he's an idiot kid. besides, he couldn't traumatize you like that. actually, he's scared you've seen worse. sighing, he picks the boy up once again and shoves him in the arms of his friends who weakly support him. river's sight is barely there, heaving over the gravel.

"i advise you not to cross my path, since i'm back tomorrow."

you gasp, catching everyone's attention. "you are?! oh my god."

toji's eyes widen the moment you squeal happily and jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around him. he's stuck, hands instinctively going to your waist, watching one of the guys before him turn beet red and quickly divert his attention to a tree. toji now realizes your skirt is riding up your ass, rolling his eyes and turning the other way, setting you down and tugging it back in its position with a clench of his jaw.

river stands from his feet, shoving away his friends and holding his gushing nose while staring dead at his partner who was beginning to grow a boner. he scoffs, disgusted. "tomato, quit acting like you don't jerk off to porn every week. it's just an ass."

"a nice one," the other says, boldly.

toji folds his arms across his chest, you mocking him by doing the same, waiting for the group to disperse. river, their wonderful leader, steps up to toji who ups his chin, ready to clock him, as if what he had gotten wasn't enough.

"this isn't over."

"yeah, they all say that. just make sure you take that advice seriously if you'd like to see another day," toji grits his teeth, river holding back his tongue, letting out a small 'tsk' before stumbling off with his posse.

"bitch ass," you mumble.

"enough," he snaps his finger in your face. you swallow, his hard stare and sudden closeness makes your stomach do backflips. fuck, he's so hot. "you're stupid for attacking him. he could've hurt you."

"stupid for standing up for myself? nah. as for him hurting me? you wouldn't have let that happen."

"says?" he sassed.

"i can see it in your eyes," toji's eyes divert to your plush lips, watching you move closer until you're chest to chest, feeling your hardened nipples graze him through your lace crop top. "you want me, therefore, you gotta keep your prize clean."

the sound of a switchblade catches him off guard, seeing you pull the weapon from your back, grabbing the bottom of your skirt and shredding off a long piece straight across.

"what are you doing?"

"your knuckles are bleeding," you say, tucking the blade away before grabbing his hand which he's stubborn on releasing strength before finally relaxing his hand, letting you bandage it. when you lower your lips to his palm, he feels his chest warm up, your teeth locking onto a piece of the fabric to pull the knot you made tighter. "all done."

you stroll away from him, taking a seat in your original position, wine and his skittles in your hand.

"hey, didn't you but your own shit?" he growls, stomping near you, the barbaric man so intriguing to toy with. he snatches them from you, sitting down and popping some into his mouth.

"share atleast." you pout.

he sighs. "hold out your palm."

giddy, you do as he says, toji pouring the contents into your hand, swinging your legs as you happily enjoy them.

"prize."

"huh?"

"it's what you said earlier. that i have to keep my prize clean. is that your way of saying you're rewarding me?"

"i think you're a cool ass person underneath that cold," you poke his chest. "quiet exterior. i salute you for not taking shit from so many people that look at you like a threat instead of a person. maybe i'm exaggerating, maybe i'm delusional, but . . . i feel like i see myself in you. or at-least the person i'm trying to become."

"vacant?" he jokes.

"admirable," you correct with a tiny smile, toji blinking. finishing your drink and tossing your head back, you hum contently from the feel of nighttime breeze. "from what i've heard, you deal with a lot, so i admire you for still being you aside from, you know, bullshit."

"that was sweet, i'm disgusted."

you hit his shoulder, sucking your teeth as he laughs wholeheartedly. he sits up, dark eyes hunting you like prey as you run your fingers through his straight hair, leaning closer to press a gentle kiss to his healing scar.

"i'll kill him for this," you fume silently, highly upset that a human being could do this to another. you knew it hurt like hell that day, he just didn't want to show it.

"it's nice to have someone care, i've never had that."

"me neither," those single pecks of kisses turn into multiple, the alcohol in your system giving you the balls to direct the situation, holding his face still in both your hands before gently kissing him. "let's care for each other."

toji grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in, opening his mouth to slip his tongue over yours, moaning through the pain on his face and deepening the kiss, free hand groping your ass over the thin black skirt you wore, thighs covered in fishnet stockings. you exhale, disconnecting your lips, licking them to relinquish the taste of him, desire fueling you completely. you sit on your knees, ignoring the pain of the concrete, deciding to shrug off your flannel and bundle it up beneath you; substitute for a pillow.

he's gawking at you like a hawk, groaning as you trail your lips over his neck, kissing, sucking, all while unzipping his jeans and pulling his heavy cock out, brick hard for a good minute now. it rose when you told him you'd kill river just for cutting his face. couldn't help it.

"been thinkin' about you all week," your head lowers, and his skin prickles with heat the moment those full lips encase his cock. you whimper with satisfaction before wrapping your dainty fingers around, barely fitting.

"me fuckin' too," his jaw drops, tossing his head back while leading his hand to your head to gently guide you, hissing once he easily hits the back of your throat that compresses around him salaciously. he hasn't gotten head in a while, almost forgot how good it felt. so much better than his hand. you moan from the approval, gyrating your hips in the air after feeling how soaked you were. your head bobs and your lips glide to his exact desire.

his thigh twitches the more you gag or swallow him down, a lewd pop sounding the empty park as you kiss along the underside where a prominent vein pulsates, sensually kissing at his tip, slicking the point of your tongue between his slit which makes him gasp, the sensation ticklish. you took pleasure in giving men head, making you drunk off it every time.

"ooh, fuck," toji throws his head back, slowly thrusting up into your mouth, hearing him hit into your throat, pupils flipping white. you moan when he whispers 'baby' or whimpers out a 'stay here' before holding your head down for a second or two, keeping that warmth around his cock a little longer, letting you go and to his surprise, not coughing.

you leave your tongue to drool over his tip, licking your swollen lips before hiking up your skirt, toji holding the back of your thighs as you arch above him, chest in his face, gasping as he latches his mouth over your nipple through your shirt. tearing open your stockings, imbedding his fingers into your skin, so fucking soft it makes his dick jump. you smelt nice, you looked pretty, you made him feel good . . . a prize indeed.

  arching your back, you keep your left knee to the ground while your right foot remains flat, leg bent as you lift your ass and slick your entrance over his timid head, biting hard on your lower lip as you sink yourself down, clenching tight. the burn is pleasurable, so fucking thick you weren't sure if he'd even fit.

"you can do it, be gracious. aren't you rewarding me?" toji drags his teeth over your neck, behind your ear, clasping your hair once again. he's right, you totally can. it's just been a while since you've had anything remotely close to his size. you slowly work your hips to accommodate him, shuttering the lower you reach, taking a minute until he's somewhat in.

"feel that? how deep i am?" he taunts, hands gripping your hips to sink you down entirely, closing his eyes in bliss. you cry out.

toji finds it amusing that you're so fussy and talkative while engaging in conversation, but when he's smacking your ass and grunting by your ear each time you drop your ass down onto his jean covered thighs, grinding on his cock pruriently, you're not much of a shit talker. instead, you're sensitive, extremely. he rushes his fingers over your clit; you're crying. he pulls your hair; you're whimpering. he tongues your nipples over your top; you're screaming. he couldn't think properly. he's done this plenty of times, many women. with you, it's different. is it because there's an actual connection? he's fond of you. how the fuck was that possible after being in your presence for only two hours?

"yes, yes, yes," the deluge of whines makes the black haired man spellbound. your nails are forming crescents into his shoulders the faster you bounce, the two of your breaths mingling in the air, panting quicker.

"fu—fuck," toji's brows curl, paying close attention to the lecherous noise of your pussy taking him, dripping down his lower half like a faucet. "i'm getting fucking close."

"fuck me back," you plead, shifting forward as a way of telling him to lay down. he sighs shakily, your voice so goddamn venereal it's killing him. he tells you not to stop, laying on the gravel and bending one of his legs he uses to push up into you, getting rougher, bruising your flesh as he fucks you hard until you salivate, tongue sticking out and pupils scrolling back into your skull.

"good girl, cum for me," he hovers his hand inches away from your ass before hitting you over and over, your small hands compared to his balling up the black shirt on his chest, hips buckling and downright filthy moans leaving your throat as you cum to his command.

"the hell are you kids doing?!" a flashlight shines over the two of your faces, and you swear your heart falls to your ass. it's a cop. shit. gasping, you hide and hop off of him without hurting him, toji laughing as the two of you scramble to gather yourselves.

"go, go!" you yell, yanking his arm as you both run out of the park, toji being sure to snatch up his skateboard, leaving everything else behind. sprinting, the two of you rush past bushes, cars, and streets until you come in contact with a dark alleyway.

"fuck, we got caught," you laugh as you check the corner of the graffitied passageway in search for the cop you're almost sure didn't have the patience to chase either one of you.

a rough hand grabs onto your cheek, turning your gaze back to him, eyes sparkling under the dimly lit street lights. a solemn looks paints his features, fingers digging into your cheeks to make your lips pout. he traces his thumb over them, and you can tell what he wanted, reading him so well. he pushes you down to crouch before him, snagging your hair to lock you still while pulling his aching cock back out. by docility, you spread your lips apart, welcoming him with pride. he wastes no time, sliding his dick as deep as he desired and pounding until he's satiated. keeping that hand in your hair, the other resides below your chin, cupping it gently while fucking your mouth savagely.

"baby, fuck," he's spent, knees bending as he cums with a breathy moan, head resting on the wall behind your body. it's a lot since he's still sailing through his orgasm, slowly rolling his hips. you fall back, gulping before sucking him clean, making sure to hollow your cheeks, giggling when he whines. he's glaring down at you, always, dark hair dismantled over his forehead. you kiss his tip, licking your lips before tucking him back into his jeans and zipping him up.

toji helps you to your feet, wrapping his hand around your neck before kissing you tenderly, melting in his hold.

"good girl," he slips his tongue in your mouth, squeezing any part of you he liked. everywhere, basically.

good girl. it has you throbbing all over again. his praises felt warm. made you feel submissive, small, obedient. "wanna come to my house?"

toji nods, smiling shyly. "sure."

"can i tony hawk my way there?!" you ask excitedly.

toji raises his brow, shrugging with a chuckle. "okay?"

#𑄽𑄺 ━━ ꒰ 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎'𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑦 .ᐟ ꒱ #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x you #toji x reader #toji x black reader #toji smut #toji fushigro x reader #jjk fushiguro #toji fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen toji

[seramilla]

Ohhh Vaggie learning she's really Carmillas daughter who never made it!!! Wait wait though. We can make this worse. Vaggie wasn't just any miscarried baby. What if Carmilla was pregnant when she died and Vaggie was that baby? Like Carmilla knew she was pregnant but had no clue what happened to her unborn third child, not until Vaggie is registering as her daughter...

"Will you leave us alone for a minute, Charlotte?"

Carmilla's strong hand comes to rest on Charlie's shoulder, where she's leaning over Vaggie's hospital bed. Charlie seems surprised at first, like she wants to protest, or say she doesn't want to leave her girlfriend's side. But something in Charlie's eyes says she knows it's for the best. The princess squeezes her hand, says, "I'll be right outside, baby," and gives her one final look before she exits the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Carmilla rolls the doctor's chair over to Vaggie's beside, taking a seat, and crosses her arms protectively over her chest. Vaggie's not sure if she's just contemplating, or if the crossing of her arms is a self-soothing behavior. Vaggie is normally exceptional at reading body language, but this woman has always been a mystery to her. At the very least, Carmilla seems particularly uncomfortable with this situation. She opens her mouth as if to speak. Several times, in fact, but nothing comes out, until Vaggie offers her an olive branch.

"It's okay, Ms. Carmine," Vaggie says, trying to sound as casual and non-threatening as possible to the disgruntled woman. "You seem like you have something important you want to tell me. I'd rather you not sugarcoat it and just say it."

Carmilla breathes deep, bending forward and putting her large hands behind her head, laughing under her breath. "Okay then..." she starts, sitting up again to look Vaggie straight in her one curious, golden eye. "What has Heaven told you about Exorcists?"

"Umm, nothing," Vaggie admits, not sure where Carmilla is going with this. "Just that we were 'specially selected' to serve under Adam, whatever that means."

"Do you have any recollection of your life on Earth before that point?"

"Again, no...none of us did. Why? Where are you going with this?"

Carmilla sighs again, visibly fighting with herself over how to phrase this next part.

"Lucifer informed me that the process for selecting Exorcists is quite...different than I had initially understood. I thought you were trained to be warriors; while that's true, you weren't selected for the role because of your ability. It has more to do with what you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Vaggie asks, getting visibly annoyed and even a little angry at that statement. What she is? She's not anything special. She'd been an angel, and a strong one, and that's why she'd been chosen. She's a little more cocksure than other angels, but all the Exorcists had to be. There hadn't been anything that different about her. She's just Vaggie. Charlie had said so.

Carmilla moves on to a seemingly unrelated topic, which only frustrates Vaggie more.

"Let me, um..." Carmilla says, trying to think of a different angle from which to approach this topic. "How do I put this?...Years ago, my daughters and I were killed in an accident. It was stupid, and entirely my fault. When we showed up here, I didn't know what was going on. I only knew that I had to protect them at all costs. It took a while, though, for my memories from my life to come back to me. But when they did...I suddenly remembered that when I died...I had been pregnant."

Vaggie is...perplexed, to say the least, about where the current conversation is headed. She feels sorry for Carmilla, sure, but she's not certain where the older woman thinks she's going with this.

"Umm, I'm sorry," Vaggie says, infusing her voice with as much sincerity and empathy that she can muster. She's still not sure what this has to do with her, but she's not an unsympathetic monster. "What...what happened to your baby?"

"I never knew," Carmilla said, and Vaggie can tell she's trying to hold back tears. "I assumed I...lost it, when we ended up here. As some sort of punishment. I was pregnant before I came here, and then when we manifested in Pentagram City, my child was just...gone. Like I'd never been pregnant in the first place."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Carmilla," Vaggie reiterates, but starting to get a little antsy from the tone of this conversation. "But what does that have to do with me?"

Carmilla stands, pacing the room back and forth, chewing lightly on one of her nails, obviously in distress about what she's going to say next.

"I tried to move on. I always hoped my baby was spirited away to Heaven. They were an innocent. They didn't deserve any of this." She gestures to the entirety of Hell with her strong hands, as if the reason should be obvious. "I made that assumption, and I chose to believe it. But then you showed up at my doorstep...fighting for freedom, for justice, for some kind of retribution for what you'd done to Charlotte's people. I didn't want to help at first. But something inside me told me I needed to."

She moves back to Vaggie's bedside, taking Vaggie's un-bandaged hand in hers, and squeezing it tightly.

"Then Lucifer called me, and said you were injured. You had lost a lot of blood, and the clock was ticking. Charlotte was trying desperately to find someone who was a match, anyone at all. I figured it couldn't hurt to see if me or my girls would be a fit...and Vaggie, the thing is...all of us were."

"So?" Vaggie responds, wishing Carmilla would just get to the fucking point. "Odds are someone down here would be, right? It's not that uncommon?"

"Vaggie..." Carmilla starts again, taking both of her hands in her large claws this time, squeezing them until they almost hurt. "Lucifer told me why. And also about what the Exorcists really are. What you really are. You're all children, Vaggie. Infants! All the Exorcists, every one of them, are souls that were never truly born... They never got to experience life on Earth as autonomous beings. That's why none of you remember. There's nothing to remember. For that, Heaven treated you wrong."

Vaggie's eye is wide. She's looking at the woman in front of her, hearing every word coming out of her mouth, but not able to focus, and not understanding any of it. No, that can't be true, she thinks. She'd been a person. She'd had a life. A family. Hadn't she? Why can't she remember?

"No," Vaggie says, shaking her head, refusing to believe a word of it. "That's not true, Carmilla!" She yanks her hand away from Carmilla's, covering her head with her hands, refusing to look at the grieving woman in front of her. "How dare you," Vaggie continues. "How dare you say such a thing. We were people! You don't get to take that away from me!"

"Vaggie, listen," Carmilla tries to place her hand on Vaggie's shoulder this time, but Vaggie pushes her away. Carmilla tries again, desperately needing the young girl to listen to what she has to say. She grasps Vaggie by the shoulders, and Vaggie fights it, but Carmilla forces her to sit still, forces her to face her, and not look away.

"Let me go!" Vaggie shouts. Carmilla doesn't.

"Listen to me, mija. Lucifer wasn't a match. He's always a match for the other fallen angels. But he wasn't for you. Because you're different. Yes, you're mortal, but you're different. You never tasted Earth's food, never walked on the same ground as other SInners, you are blameless. So you're different. Belphegor ran additional tests, to figure out why, and it's because..."

Carmilla lets her go, turning away from Vaggie, suddenly unable to look at her.

"Because why?" Vaggie shouts. "Fucking Hell, because why?! Just spit it out, Carmilla!"

Carmilla does, and when she turns to face Vaggie again, her face is soaked with salty tears.

"Because you're mine!"

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #vaggie #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #belphegor hazbin hotel #ask #anon #fan theories #vaggie carmilla related au #chaggie #y’all made me do this #it’s all your fault #adam hazbin hotel

[itsabouttimex2]

I have seen many yandere parental figure so how about yandere offspring? Like Yandere mk/nezha/redson/mei to his parental figure? How would their parental figure to their child "strange" behavior?

Yandere Children:

Red Son and Ne Zha

(This is the first time I’ve written romantic yandere for Y/N. Not too surprised that it was for Bull King and Iron Fan.)

I like to think of this particular Y/N as a demon born of ice, someone who owes a serious debt to Princess Iron Fan.

When she finally calls it in, you head immediately to her fortified residence, seeing the former celestial standing outside with her husband, a small bundle in his arms.

You expect the worst, and prepare accordingly. The favor you owe is great- no task is beyond her asking. Your blessing, or a fragment of your power. Your service as a guard or war companion. Your compliance in a murderous scheme. But Princess Iron Fan does not wish for any of that.

Instead, she wants a babysitter.

“We were hoping… that you might be a suitable caretaker for our son. It could be that your natural affinity for ice will help to neutralize Red Son’s wielding of the Samahdi Fire.”

So the little boiling bundle is pushed into your icy arms, steam hissing and filling the air on contact.

His temperature lowers as yours rises, the little baby cooing and laughing at the humid mist swirling around you.

“…I didn’t know you had a son,” you say, poking the plumpness of his little scarred cheek. “And what a big and healthy thing he is, too.”

“A worthy heir to my throne!” The Demon Bull King proudly announces, watching closely as you handle his cherished son. Gently, you press a kiss to his bindi. Pulling away slowly, your lips leave a glittering ice-blue mark upon it, reading simply: 凛.

This is the life you settle into, a mostly peaceful passing of days spent playing with the growing boy and helping to tame his deadly flames.

Any time they grow out of control (and it happens frequently) you quickly reapply your blessing to his forehead, chilling his internal temperature and forcing his body to redirect the fire to heat himself up.

His parents watch on in awe, seeing you so easily and calmly reign in something so deadly and uncontrollable. You quickly become more than a temporary babysitter, given a lavish room furnished with every luxury that a demon could desire.

(Let’s be honest, there’s some real poly energy with you’ve got going on with PIF and DBK. ‘Live-in babysitter’, my ass.)

As the three of you grow closer, so swells your bond with Red Son, serving as primary caretaker and educator. He’s a prodigal learner, taking quickly to magic especially. You learn that the boy has a knack for putting things together, spot-welding any pieces of metal he can find. These little jagged creations are often gifted to you, and you have a shelf entirely dedicated to displaying them. Often will he reject his own bed to sleep beside you, finding comfort in the coldness of your skin.

But, in spite of all sweetness…

Red Son is still a demon, things that are horribly powerful and often violent or deceitful, if not outright murderous.

And he grows to see Y/N as being something that belongs to the Demon Bull Clan. And sure, with the nearly unpayable debt you owe to Iron Fan and your budding relationship with his parents, he’s not exactly wrong.

A caretaker, a maid, a teacher, a mentor, a friend. These are all things you have become in grateful service to this powerful family. And eventually, all those things bleed to what they really what:

A spouse and a parent.

It’s hard to tell exactly when the shift in their perspective occurs, because their obsession is a slow, drudging creep. But the shift in their actions once they realize their obsession is instead blindingly quick.

One day you’re sitting down with Red to teach him calligraphy, gently and reassuringly fixing his brushstroke and complimenting every line he gets right, all while he demands to sit in your lap.

Then night falls and it is made very clear to you what your new role in the family in, complete with a shift in sleeping area and clothing.

You’re pressed flush between Iron Fan and Bull King as they slumber, dressed in a red silk gown and bearing purple-jeweled rings across many of your fingers. Red Son sleeps on your chest, his grip immovably tight.

And this is the new life you must grow accustomed to, either to repay your debt or perhaps… because you have come to like it.

Loved isn’t the worst thing to be, after all.

(Personal headcanon: befitting his status as the Third Lotus Prince, most offerings given to Ne Zha consist of foods containing lotus seeds, lotus root, and lotus paste. At this point, he’s grown somewhat sick of the sweet taste. He actually prefers meat and vegetables.)

“Ne Zha,” you call, exploring the halls of his palace. “Little one, it’s time for dinner!”

All that meets your words is the clanging of metal and the tearing of leather. He’s training again, as always.

You push aside a silk curtain embroidered with many lotuses, revealing a well-stocked armory lined with dozen of training dummies.

And in the middle is a very worn-out Ne Zha, the little prince dripping with sweat.

“Little one,” you say, causing the boy’s sash to stand to attention, startled upwards like the tail of a cat. “What did I say about training so late?”

“I, um… I’m not supposed to train… so I won’t want to sleep in late to, um, make up for lost energy.”

“That’s right, sweetpea. Come on, let’s get something in your stomach. And then you’ll need a bath.”

“I already took a bath today,” he huffs, slotting his dual-tipped spear face-down into a holding pot. “I don’t need another.”

Timed to the click of your tongue, you swipe a finger across the young boy’s forehead, dragging a line in the built-up sweat. “I think you do, Ne Zha.”

“…hmph,” he pouts, his little cheeks puffing out. Though the prince is much too polite to outright refuse or go so far as to throw a tantrum, he still shows his displeasure in a quiet and mild way.

It’s one of the things you cherish most about him. Ne Zha is well behaved and rather mature, to the point where you have to encourage him to play and take breaks. It feels a little unfair, really, that someone so young has been saddled with so much responsibility.

You ply the Third Lotus Prince with plushies and paints, allowing him to explore avenues of creativity and make-believe. It’s nourishing for both his mind and body, a period of well-earned rest to slowly recuperate from the constant training he’s so insist on enduring.

In turn, he’s viciously protective of you, and often asks for your explicit attention over any other maidservant in the Celestial Realm.

Expect him to ward off any would-be suitors by challenging them to duels. It’s a lose-lose scenario . They either somehow win and beat the hell out of a little boy, or, more likely, get the hell beaten out of them by a little boy. Either way, it’s not exactly something that endears them to you, watching grown men and women raise their blades to your protective charge.

Kissing his wounds and fixing his hair, doting on the little lotus prince as your would-be suitors seethe, wishing that they were the ones receiving your attention.

Eventually, Ne Zha will properly dress himself (that’s a lie, he needed your help) for an audience with several important deities in the Celestial Realm, he asks for your permanent placement as his personal parent maidservant.

And what reason do they have to deny such a loyal warrior?

#Platonic Yandere #Romantic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Red Son #Yandere Princess Iron Fan #Yandere Demon Bull King #Bullfam #Yandere Ne Zha #Yandere Nezha #Yandere Son

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Hi! I just stumbled upon your profile when I was searching for jonathan crane x reader fics, and can I just say that I loved Behind The Mask so so much! Would it be possible to request a fic Jonathan x reader that is inspired by You are the right one by Sports? If so, thank you so much! 💕✨

You Are The Right One - Jonathan Crane x Reader ONESHOT

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 8016

Warnings: High School!Jonathan Crane, bullying

Summary: !!Request!! High school was a cesspool of misery for Jonathan. After the cruel prank from his crush and biggest bully, he believed his days would be forever marred by the shadows of ridicule and isolation. Until a beacon of light emerged in the form of one girl who reached out with a helping hand.

A/N: (This gif does not match the vibe whatsoever, but oh well!) Bro, I had never heard this song before, but the second I listened to it AHAHHAH!!! the way this song tingles my brain~ chefs kiss. Thank you so much Anon for introducing this song to me 💚 While writing this fic, I really got into the comic book Jonathan, so the whole time writing this, instead of picturing Cillian Murphy, my brain went off and thought about the lanky ginger Jonathan from the comics...smash. This doesn't really affect how you read it or anything, I don't bring up his appearance (I think) but yeah, fun fact! Thank you so much for the request, Anon, I hope you like it and I hope everyone else likes it as well 💚

-

"Hey! Scarecrow!" The jeering shout pierced the air before a rotten pumpkin collided with Jonathan's head.

With a jolt, he crashed onto the unforgiving concrete, the impact scraping his knees raw and sending his glasses tumbling from his face. Laughter and mocking taunts echoed from the other side of the street, adding insult to injury. Wiping the slimy remnants of pumpkin from his face, Jonathan retrieved his glasses from the ground and carefully replaced them, picking himself off the floor and rushing to his house.

Jonathan hated his time at school, not due to its academic challenges, they were a mere breeze to him. It was the individuals within the school walls who soured his experience. Each day seemed to bring a fresh onslaught of taunts, shoves, and the relentless pursuit to make him feel small. It was an existence he loathed.

Bo Gribbs stood out as the ringleader of torment, his cruelty unmatched by any other. Jonathan couldn't fathom what he had done to deserve such relentless bullying from Bo, but he found himself powerless to retaliate. Physically overpowered and painfully aware of his own frailty, Jonathan's slender frame seemed almost translucent beneath his clothing, a stark testament to his vulnerability in the face of Bo's tyranny.

Yet, even within the supposed sanctuary of his supposed home, peace was still not found for him. If he managed to escape the torment of school, he found himself ensnared in the clutches of his eccentric great-grandmother, whose own torture made every moment a living hell. The irony of her religious fervor contrasted against her treatment of him was not lost on Jonathan.

Though Jonathan's existence felt like a descent into inferno, he clung to the belief that it was merely a chapter in his life, not the entire story. Determined to carve out a brighter future for himself. He vowed to end the torment, one way or another.

-

Walking through the corridors proved to be a difficult journey for Jonathan, each step fraught with the anticipation of another cruel encounter. As he traversed the halls, barely two minutes had passed before a forceful shove sent him careening forward, his body meeting the cold embrace of the linoleum floor. His knees, accustomed to such harsh treatment, absorbed the impact with resigned familiarity.

The clatter of his glasses hitting the ground echoed amidst the cacophony of jeers from passing jocks, their laughter cutting through the air like a serrated blade. With a heavy sigh, Jonathan reached out, his fingers fumbling as they sought the familiar frames now lying abandoned on the floor.

To add insult to injury, the contents of his binder lay strewn across the corridor in a chaotic array of papers and notebooks. With a resigned sense of foreboding, Jonathan began the arduous task of gathering his scattered belongings, readying himself for the inevitable shit day that lay ahead.

Amidst the din of the bustling hallway, the sound of approaching footsteps caught Jonathan's attention, his heart sinking as he braced for yet another harsh confrontation. However, what he beheld was not the expected boot poised for a strike, but rather a figure, a girl, crouched beside him, her hands reaching out to aid in gathering the scattered papers.

Stunned into silence, Jonathan could only watch in disbelief as the girl worked alongside him, her actions a stark contrast to the hostility he had come to expect. Caught in a moment of bewildered confusion, he found himself unable to move, his mind reeling with questions. What was she doing? Was she helping him?

As Jonathan's mind struggled to catch up with the whirlwind of events, he watched in astonishment as the girl collected the scattered papers, her movements somehow appearing graceful. With each piece she retrieved, she seemed to breathe life into the crap that had enveloped his world just moments before. As she stacked the papers before him, Jonathan couldn't help but marvel at the dexterity of her fingers, a stark contrast to the clumsy awkwardness he felt coursing through his own limbs.

When she finally glanced up, her face illuminated by the fluorescent lights of the corridor, Jonathan found himself momentarily transfixed by the sight before him. The delicate curve of her jawline, the softness of her features, and the warmth in her eyes sent a flutter through his chest, igniting a blush that crept up his cheeks. It had been an eternity since he had been in such close proximity to a girl, let alone one this attrative.

Despite the pounding of his heart and the flush of embarrassment that suffused his face, Jonathan couldn't help but brace himself for the anticipated rejection and humiliation. Yet, to his astonishment, the girl's expression remained neutral, devoid of the revulsion he had come to expect from others.

In that fleeting moment, as their eyes met, Jonathan felt a spark of hope ignite within him, a glimmer of possibility amidst the darkness of his reality.

"I'm not sure they're in order, sorry," she offered apologetically, handing the papers over to him.

Jonathan's mind raced, struggling to process the flood of emotions and sensations crashing over him like waves against a rocky shore. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words emerged, his voice lost amidst the thoughts within him. His cheeks burned with a fierce blush, the heat spreading across his skin like wildfire as he fought to steady his erratic breaths.

Despite the turmoil raging within him, Jonathan found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the girl before him. Every delicate movement, every subtle shift in her demeanor, captivated his attention like a mesmerizing dance. He watched as she nervously nibbled on her lower lip, her brows furrowed in a mixture of concern and uncertainty.

A pang of self-reproach stabbed at Jonathan's heart as he cursed his own awkwardness, berating himself for his inability to ease the tension that hung thick in the air. He longed to reach out, to offer some semblance of reassurance, but the weight of his own insecurities held him captive, shackling him in silence.

In the midst of his internal turmoil, Jonathan couldn't help but wonder if he was the cause of the girl's discomfort. Was it his presence alone that had driven her to such nervous agitation? The thought only served to deepen his sense of self-condemnation, a bitter reminder of his own inadequacy in the face of this unexpected encounter.

Taking the papers from her outstretched hand, Jonathan murmured a barely audible "thank you," his eyes remaining fixed on the ground.

"It's okay," she reassured softly, straightening up.

As Jonathan remained rooted to the spot, his gaze fixated on the ground, he felt a sense of regret wash over him as he watched the girl gracefully rise to her feet. Every movement seemed to unfold in slow motion, each subtle shift of her body conveying a depth of emotion that left Jonathan feeling utterly captivated.

The soft rustle of fabric as she straightened her posture, the delicate sway of her hair as she lifted her head, every detail etched itself into Jonathan's memory like a scene from a cherished dream. He longed to reach out, to capture this fleeting moment before it slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, but the weight of his own insecurities held him firmly in place.

As she turned to leave, the sound of her footsteps echoed through the empty corridor, each step a somber reminder of the distance that now lay between them. Jonathan listened intently, the rhythmic sound of her footfalls fading into the silence like a whispered promise lost to the wind.

Only when she was finally out of sight did Jonathan dare to lift his gaze, his eyes scanning the empty space where she had stood mere moments before. The memory of her presence lingered like an echo in his mind, a bittersweet reminder of the connection he had felt, however fleeting it may have been.

-

As the final bell reverberated through the hallways, signaling the end of lunch and the impending arrival of the last period, Jonathan's thoughts were consumed by the memory of the girl he had crossed paths with that very morning. Her image lingered in his mind like a vivid dream, each detail etched into his consciousness with a clarity that was exhilarating and mildly disturbing.

The mere thought of her sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He could almost feel the weight of her gaze, piercing through the veil of his thoughts, igniting a fire within him that he struggled to contain.

This crush felt different, unlike any he had experienced before. It wasn't merely a passing fancy or a fleeting attraction. It was a connection that transcended the boundaries of mere physical appearance. There was an ineffable quality about her, a magnetic allure that beckoned him closer with each passing moment.

As he gazed out into the tranquil expanse before him, Jonathan couldn't shake the feeling that destiny had intervened, weaving their paths together. And in that moment, amidst the quiet solitude of the afternoon, he allowed himself to entertain the tantalizing possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, this encounter was the beginning of something truly extraordinary.

It may have seemed naive, even foolish, to harbor such aspirations, but for Jonathan, it was a rare moment of respite in an otherwise shitty landscape. To entertain the notion that perhaps, just perhaps, the universe held something extraordinary in store for him was a welcome change.

Jonathan’s previous crushes seemed like nothing compared to the emotions that stirred by his encounter with the mysterious girl that morning. Recollections of past crushes, like shards of fragmented glass, pricked at his consciousness, reminding him of the superficiality that had defined those fleeting attractions.

Sherry, with her beauty and captivating presence, had been the subject of Jonathan's affections not so long ago. Yet, his admiration for her had always been tempered by the harsh reality of her social circle. Despite the allure of her charm, Jonathan found himself relegated to the sidelines, but he knew he could never have anyone like her anyway.

But it wasn't just Sherry's group that posed a barrier to Jonathan's desires, it was her association with Bo Gribbs, the boy that tormented him every day. Bo's looming presence, like a dark cloud on the horizon, served as a constant reminder of the toxicity that permeated Sherry's world. And yet, despite the danger that lurked beneath the surface, Jonathan remained steadfast in his pursuit, blind to the warning signs that whispered caution in the wind.

It wasn't until Sherry played a cruel prank on him, a twisted joke that left him humiliated and vulnerable, that Jonathan's rose-tinted glasses were shattered, revealing the harsh truth that had eluded him for so long. The sting of betrayal, like a venomous serpent coiled within his heart, forced him to confront the reality of his situation, a reality where he made judgement off appearance alone.

As he reflected on the events of that fateful night, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for the time wasted chasing after hollow dreams. But amidst the ashes of his past disappointments, a flicker of hope ignited within him, a hope born from the promise of a new beginning, forged in the fires of his encounter with the mysterious girl who had captured his heart with a single glance and kind gesture.

This girl, she was unlike anyone Jonathan had ever encountered before. Every detail of her presence seemed to exude an air of kindess, something that he didn’t experience often. 

It wasn't just her appearance that set her apart, it was the way she carried herself, with a confidence that bordered on defiance, as if daring the world to unravel the enigma of her being. There was an undeniable magnetism about her, an intangible quality that drew Jonathan in like a moth to a flame.

And for the first time in his life, Jonathan dared to hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for something more than mere admiration from afar. He allowed himself to entertain the possibility of forging a connection with this stranger.

As Jonathan settled into his usual seat at the front of the classroom, he arranged his books on the desk before him. The desks were arranged in pairs, accommodating two students each, yet Jonathan found himself occupying his table alone, a solitude he had grown accustomed to and even appreciated. 

The rest of the class filtered in, taking their usual places. But just as the bell signaled the start of class, the door creaked open to reveal a newcomer, a sight that caused Jonathan's heart to skip a beat. Like a vision materializing, she stepped into the room, the girl who had occupied Jonathan's thoughts since the start of the day.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Jonathan's eyes traced her every movement, drinking in the graceful sway of her stride, the subtle tilt of her head as she looked around at the desks before her. It was as if the very essence of her presence infused the room with a palpable energy, setting Jonathan's heart ablaze with a flurry of emotions he struggled to contain.

What was she doing here, in his classroom, when she wasn't supposed to be? The question echoed through Jonathan's mind like a mantra, a puzzle he couldn't quite unravel.

As she cast her gaze about the room, seeking out an empty seat, Jonathan's breath caught in his throat, a knot of anticipation tightening in his chest. And then, as if guided by some unseen force, her eyes landed on the spot beside him before drifting up to his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips like a secret shared between them.

The rush of heat that flooded Jonathan's cheeks was as sudden and unexpected as a summer storm, his pulse quickening with a fervor that threatened to overwhelm him. It was a moment suspended in time, a collision of worlds that left Jonathan reeling in disbelief.

He sat there, his heart hammering against his ribcage like a drum echoing in the hollows of his chest. Every nerve in his body seemed to hum with electricity as he watched her draw nearer, her presence casting a spell upon him that left him breathless with anticipation. It was as if time itself had slowed to a crawl, each passing second stretching into eternity.

"May I sit here?" Her voice, like a melody woven from silk and honey, broke through the haze of Jonathan's thoughts, drawing his attention to the question hanging in the air.

Jonathan swallowed hard, the sudden dryness of his throat betraying the ruckus of emotions raging within him. With a shaky nod, he managed to tear his gaze away from her mesmerizing presence, meeting her eyes with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

"Thank you," she murmured softly, her voice like a gentle breeze on a summer's eve as she settled into the seat beside him, her movements fluid and graceful.

"I just moved classes," she continued, her tone casual yet tinged with a hint of frustration, "I had a clash with English and Statistics, which messed up my whole timetable."

As she explained the reason for her unexpected presence in his class, Jonathan found himself captivated by the sound of her voice, each word a symphony of warmth and sincerity that washed over him like a soothing balm.

Jonathan drank in her words like a man parched in the desert, his thirst for her presence growing with each passing moment. He wanted nothing more than to listen to her voice for eternity, to lose himself in the melody of her speech.

"I'm Y/n, by the way," she said, turning to look at him with a smile that seemed to illuminate the entire room with its radiance.

"I'm Jo-" Jonathan's words were abruptly cut off by the sharp impact of a book colliding with the back of his head, jolting him out of his trance with a start.

Laughter erupted throughout the classroom, echoing off the walls as Jonathan winced in pain, his hand instinctively flying to the back of his head, fingers curling around the tender spot where the book had struck.

"Holy fuck! Are you okay?" Y/n's voice cut through the chaos, her hand landing gently on his shoulder in a gesture of concern.

Jonathan's breath caught in his throat at the touch, a jolt of electricity coursing through him at the warmth of her hand against his skin. If he weren't in such agonizing pain, he might have choked on his own saliva at the unexpected intimacy of the moment. "I'm fine," he managed to whisper, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur.

As Y/n leaned in to check on him, neither of them noticed the approach of the culprit responsible for Jonathan's suffering. It wasn't until he spoke that their attention was drawn to him, his smug tone slicing through the air like a knife.

"Sorry, Scarecrow, my hand slipped," Bo said, his voice dripping with malice.

With a heavy thud, Bo's hand landed on Jonathan's back, causing him to flinch and cough in response. Leaning in closer, Bo loomed over Jonathan, his presence like a dark cloud casting a shadow over the room.

"Do you mind?" Y/n's voice cut through the tension like a sharp blade, her gaze locked on Bo with a fierceness that made him falter for a moment.

"Mind what, Y/n? I’m fine, how ‘bout yourself?" Bo retorted, his smirk never faltering, even under the weight of her glare.

"Go be a dick somewhere else," Y/n shot back.

Jonathan's heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and admiration as he watched Y/n stand up to Bo, her unwavering determination a stark contrast to the fear and apprehension that had gripped him only moments before.

For a moment, Bo seemed taken aback by Y/n's assertiveness, his usual swagger faltering in the face of her unwavering gaze. But then, with a mocking snort, he straightened up, his smirk morphing into a sneer as he turned his attention back to Jonathan.

"Looks like Scarecrow's got himself a little protector," Bo jeered, his words dripping with contempt.

Ignoring Bo's taunts, Y/n turned back to Jonathan, her expression softening with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her voice gentle and reassuring.

Jonathan couldn't help but nod, a surge of gratitude flooding through him at the genuine concern in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied.

As the tension in the room began to settle, the teacher cleared their throat, drawing attention to the front of the classroom. With one last glance at Y/n, Jonathan turned his focus to the lesson.

Jonathan felt a gentle tap on his arm, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned to find Y/n looking at him with a kind expression.

"Sorry, I never actually caught your name before Bo started being a dick," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of apology.

"Jonathan," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips, before turning her attention back to the front of the classroom.

As Jonathan watched her, a warmth spread through his chest, chasing away the lingering discomfort from Bo's earlier antics. In that brief exchange, he felt a connection form.

As Jonathan sat beside Y/n in class, his mind couldn't help but drift back to her. Her presence beside him seemed to fill the air with a quiet warmth, casting a soft glow over the otherwise mundane surroundings of the classroom.

He stole furtive glances in her direction, marveling at the way the sunlight danced in her hair, illuminating strands of gold like a halo. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the way her eyes flickered with concentration as she followed along with the lesson, every detail of her being seemed to captivate him in ways he couldn't quite comprehend.

He longed to hear her speak again, to lose himself in the melody of her words and the warmth of her smile. But more than anything, it was the way she made him feel, the sense of comfort and ease that washed over him in her presence. For the first time in a long while, Jonathan felt a glimmer of hope stirring within him, a belief that perhaps, just perhaps, there was something special blossoming between them.

As the final minutes of class ticked by, Jonathan's attention remained divided between the lesson and the gentle presence of Y/n beside him. He found himself stealing glances at her whenever he could, savoring the fleeting moments of shared proximity.

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the period, Jonathan felt a pang of reluctance as he realized their time together was drawing to a close. He began gathering his belongings, his mind already drifting ahead to the remainder of the day.

But before he could make his exit, Y/n turned to him with a smile, her eyes sparkling with warmth and kindness. "Hey, Jonathan," she said softly, "do you mind if I walk with you?"

Jonathan's heart skipped a beat at her words, a rush of warmth flooding through him at the prospect of spending more time with her. "I don’t mind," he replied, almost too quickly.

Together, they made their way out of the classroom, the bustling halls alive with the energy of students eager to begin their weekend. As they walked side by side, Jonathan felt a sense of contentment wash over him, grateful for the unexpected situation that had brought them together.

As they stepped out of the building, Y/n cast a fleeting glance behind them before returning her focus to the path ahead. "I just really didn't want Bo to bother you any more than he already has. If you don't want me to walk with you, I totally get that," she said, her voice tinged with concern.

"It's fine... I don't mind," Jonathan replied, his words tinged with a mix of gratitude and disbelief.

A smile tugged at the corners of Y/n's lips as she looked at him. "Then I'll walk with you," she said, her eyes sparkling with warmth and sincerity.

As Jonathan processed Y/n's offer, a swirl of conflicting emotions churned within him. 

On one hand, he was overwhelmed by a sense of disbelief and wonder that someone as kind and compassionate as Y/n would willingly extend such a gesture of friendship to him. It was a glimmer of light in the darkness of his daily struggles, a ray of hope that pierced through the clouds of uncertainty that hung heavy over his life.

But as he considered the practicalities of the situation, a nagging sense of apprehension gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. He couldn't shake the feeling that allowing Y/n to accompany him all the way to his house would only invite trouble. Grandma Keeny was not one to tolerate such liberties, and Jonathan knew all too well the consequences of crossing her.

With a heavy heart, Jonathan weighed his options. On one hand, he longed for the companionship and warmth that Y/n's presence offered. But on the other, he couldn't bear the thought of subjecting her to the wrath of Grandma Keeny.

In the end, Jonathan found himself at a crossroads, both metaphorically and literally, as they reached an intersection. With a heavy heart, he turned to Y/n, his expression a mixture of gratitude and reluctance.

"I'm going this way," he murmured, the words stumbling awkwardly from his lips.

Y/n's smile faltered slightly at his words, a flicker of confusion dancing in her eyes. "You don't want me to keep walking with you?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Jonathan hesitated for a moment, torn between the desire to confide in Y/n and the fear of burdening her with his troubles. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head gently.

"It's not that," he began, his voice soft but resolute. "I just don't want to inconvenience you. It's a bit out of the way, and I wouldn't want to make you late home or anything."

Y/n regarded him with a thoughtful expression, her gaze searching his face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. After a moment, she nodded understandingly, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"Alright then," she said, her tone warm and reassuring. "Just know that the offer still stands if you ever need someone to walk with."

Jonathan felt a surge of gratitude wash over him at her words, a sense of warmth and belonging settling in the pit of his stomach. Though he couldn't bring himself to explain the full extent of his situation, he was grateful for Y/n's understanding and compassion.

With a final nod of thanks, Jonathan watched as Y/n continued on her way, her presence a comforting reminder that he wasn't alone in his struggles.

As Jonathan made his way along the footpath, the memory of Y/n lingered like a gentle breeze, offering a brief respite from the turmoil of his thoughts.

But as he neared his house, the weight of reality came crashing down upon him like a leaden blanket. The giddiness he felt began to wane, replaced by a sense of foreboding dread.

He couldn't bring himself to call it a home, not with the constant cloud of tension that hung heavy in the air. Grandma Keeny's presence loomed over the house like a specter, her disapproving gaze a constant reminder of the hell Jonathan endured within its walls.

With each step closer to the front door, Jonathan's stomach churned with a mixture of anxiety and apprehension. He knew that no matter how hard he tried, there would always be something for Grandma Keeny to find fault with.

But as he steeled himself to face whatever awaited him inside, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind, a reminder of the brief moment of solace he had found in Y/n's company. And for that fleeting moment, Jonathan allowed himself to cling to the hope that one day, he would find a place where he truly belonged.

As Jonathan entered the house, the air seemed to thicken with tension, each creak of the floorboards echoing through the house. He braced himself for the inevitable confrontation, steeling his nerves against the onslaught of Grandma Keeny's disapproving scrutiny.

Sure enough, as soon as he crossed the threshold, he was met with the sharp pang of her voice slicing through the silence like a knife. "You're late again, Jonathan," she scolded, her tone laced with thinly veiled disdain.

He hardly needed to glance at the clock to know she made that up. Jonathan bit back a retort, knowing from experience that it would only incite further wrath. Instead, he offered a mumbled apology, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground as he braced himself for the barrage of criticism that was sure to follow.

But to his surprise, Grandma Kenny's response was not as scathing as he had anticipated. "Don't let this happen again," she said curtly, her voice carrying a tone of warning.

Though her words lacked the usual venomous edge, Jonathan still felt the weight of her disapproval bearing down on him like a heavy burden. He nodded silently, knowing better than to provoke further confrontation.

As he retreated to his room. While he was grateful to have escaped unscathed this time, he couldn't shake the feeling that Grandma Keeny's temporary leniency was merely the calm before the storm.

As he settled into bed, the memory of Y/n's kind smile lingered in his mind like a flickering flame in the darkness. It was a reminder that even amidst the chaos and uncertainty, there were moments of warmth and kindness to be found.

But that moment of rest was short-lived. The tranquility shattered as Grandma Kenny's sharp voice pierced through the silence, demanding that he come downstairs to make her a coffee. Jonathan's shoulders sagged as he rolled his eyes, begrudgingly pushing himself off the bed.

-

Jonathan stood by his locker, the light of the hallway casting shadows across the floor. The low hum of students milling about filled the air, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter or snippets of conversation. He slowly grabbed each book from his locker, the scent of aged paper and faint traces of graphite wafting up as he sifted through the contents.

With each item he retrieved, Jonathan's mind wandered, lost in the potential chance of Y/n walking past. He imagined the rhythmic tap of her footsteps echoing down the corridor, the soft rustle of her clothing as she approached. His heart quickened at the thought of her warm smile, the playful glint in her eyes that never failed to captivate him.

In his mind, Jonathan pictured Y/n strolling alongside him to class, their conversation flowing effortlessly as if they had known each other for years. He envisioned himself maintaining composure, staying cool, without the usual nervousness that plagued him in social interactions. Imagining her radiant smile directed up at him, he couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, hoping to see her.

Sure, he had only met her the day before and their only interactions were brief. Yet, in those fleeting moments, Jonathan felt a something with Y/n that bet any connection he had ever thought he shared with Sherry. The memory of his last crush on Sherry now seemed trivial and shallow in comparison to the depth of feeling he harbored for Y/n, he cringed just thinking about it.

Lost in his imagination, Jonathan nearly missed Y/n's presence walking through the hallway. She was a vision, just as captivating as the day prior. His heart quickened with anticipation, hoping for a fleeting glance from her. Yet, she passed by without so much as a glance in his direction.

Feeling a pang of disappointment, Jonathan turned back to his locker, cursing himself for entertaining such fantasies. He berated his own foolishness, knowing deep down that she wouldn't notice him. As he watched her move toward her own locker, he couldn't shake the sense of longing that lingered in his heart.

Jonathan couldn't tear his eyes away as he watched a guy approach Y/n at her locker. He felt a surge of jealousy rise within him, coupled with a gnawing sense of unease. His mind raced with scenarios, imagining the worst possible outcomes. What if this guy was her boyfriend? What if she preferred his company over Jonathan's?

He had completely forgetthen the about the possibility that she might already be in a relationship. A knot formed in his stomach as he watched them engage in conversation. He strained to hear snippets of their exchange, trying to decipher their relationship. His grip tightened on the books in his hands, his knuckles turning white with tension.

Jonathan's thoughts swirled with insecurity and doubt. He couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy that washed over him. As he watched the interaction unfold, a sense of resignation settled over him. Perhaps it was best to keep his distance, to spare himself the inevitable disappointment of rejection.

As Jonathan closed his locker, he couldn't help but overhear the exchange between Y/n and the guy who had approached her. He lingered nearby, discreetly eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you every time, I don’t want to go out with you,” Y/n's voice carried a firmness, her words laced with frustration.

The guy persisted, undeterred. “And I shouldn’t have to tell you that I’m not a bad guy. What have you got to lose?” he argued.

Y/n didn't mince her words. “I’ve watched you and your friends bully people, yet you’re gonna stand there and tell me you’re not a bad guy?” Her tone was sharp, cutting through the air with conviction.

With a dismissive roll of his eyes, the guy retorted, “It’s just a bit of fun.”

Y/n's response was final. “Goodbye, now,” she stated firmly, closing her locker and walking away, leaving the guy behind.

Jonathan felt a wave of relief wash over him as he listened to the conversation unfold. Not only did it confirm that Y/n was single, but it also revealed her refusal to entertain someone disrespectful like that guy. Yet, alongside the relief, a simmering anger brewed within him. The audacity of that guy to treat her with such disrespect ignited a fire within Jonathan. Upon getting a closer look, he recognized the guy as one of the same guys who had tormented him before, one that hangs with Bo. Aaron was a real piece of shit. 

Jonathan's gaze must have lingered for too long, for the Aaron turned to face him, his expression twisted with anger. "What are you looking at, Scarecrow?" he spat out aggressively.

Jonathan felt a surge of panic coursing through him, his muscles tensing in preparation for confrontation. However, before he could respond, the bell rang, cutting through the tension like a sharp blade. With a sense of relief, Jonathan hastily made his exit, heading off to his own class, leaving the guy behind in the hallway.

-

Jonathan managed to navigate his classes without encountering Aaron again, a small relief in an otherwise nerve racking day. As lunchtime arrived, he found himself in the crowded cafeteria.

For Jonathan, lunch was a simple affair. His pockets rarely held enough spare change to afford a cafeteria meal, and even if they did, the thought of eating the food they served was revolting in and of itself. Instead, he relied on the sandwich he'd prepared at home earlier that morning. A humble meal, but one that brought him comfort.

In the corner of the cafeteria, Jonathan sat in solitary silence, a lone figure amidst rest. With a library book propped open before him, he stole moments between bites of his homemade sandwich to immerse himself in its pages. The book was a refuge, a small rebellion against the suffocating grip of Grandma Kenny's stringent beliefs.

Jonathan didn’t want to imagine the consequences if Grandma Kenny were to discover his forbidden literary indulgence. Her wrath was legendary, her punishments cruel and unpredictable. From stupid chores to brutal beatings. Jonathan shuddered at the memory of being locked in the decrepit church, surrounded by the menacing caws of circling crows. An ordeal he'd endured more than once for daring to defy her rules.

He barely noticed that person approaching his table. Jonathan's heart jumped in his chest as he watched Aaron's hand descend upon the table with a thud, the sudden noise echoing in the cafeteria. His grip tightened on the book, his knuckles turning white, as he braced himself for whatever confrontation was about to unfold.

Aaron's smirk widened as he snatched the book from Jonathan's hands, flipping through its pages with a mocking chuckle. "What cha reading, Scarecrow?" he taunted, his voice dripping with malice.

Jonathan remained rooted to his seat, his silence a stark contrast to Aaron's brash demeanor. Yet, beneath the surface, a torrent of emotions churned within him. Fear, anger, and a deep-seated sense of vulnerability.

With a swift motion, Aaron swatted Jonathan's sandwich off the table, the force causing crumbs to scatter across the surface. Jonathan flinched at the sudden movement, his fingers twitching as if instinctively reaching out to reclaim his meal.

But he held himself back, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Aaron. He knew better than to provoke further confrontation, especially in such a public setting. So, with a clenched jaw and a steely resolve, Jonathan remained silent, his eyes betraying none of the turmoil raging within.

Aaron's smirk widened at Jonathan's restraint, clearly relishing the power he held in this moment of dominance. With a swift motion, he tossed the book aside, its pages fluttering in protest before settling on the tabletop. 

"What's the matter, Scarecrow? Cat got your tongue?" Aaron taunted, leaning in closer, his breath hot against Jonathan's ear.

Jonathan's jaw tightened further, his fingers curling into fists beneath the table. He refused to give Aaron the satisfaction of a response, knowing that any retort would only fuel the bully's ego. Instead, he focused on maintaining his composure, willing himself to remain calm in the face of adversity.

As Aaron continued to mock and jeer, Jonathan's mind raced, searching for an escape from this uncomfortable confrontation. He knew he couldn't let Aaron intimidate him, not again. With a deep breath, Jonathan forced himself to ignore the taunts, his eyes flickering momentarily to the scattered crumbs on the table.

Just as Aaron seemed poised to escalate the situation further, a familiar voice cut through the tension like a knife. 

"Hey, Aaron, leave him alone."

Y/n stood at the edge of the table, her expression a mixture of concern and determination. Her presence seemed to catch Aaron off guard, his smirk faltering for just a moment before he composed himself.

"Mind your own business, Y/n," Aaron retorted, his tone dripping with disdain.

"And you wonder why I won’t go out with you," Y/n shot back, her voice unwavering.

Jonathan watched in awe as Y/n stood her ground, her confidence radiating in the face of adversity. He felt a surge of gratitude towards her, knowing that she had once again stepped in to defend him.

Aaron's eyes narrowed as he glared at Y/n, clearly unaccustomed to being challenged. For a moment, the cafeteria seemed to hold its breath, or atleast it did for Jonathan.

But then, with a frustrated huff, Aaron shoved himself away from the table, casting one last menacing glare at Jonathan before stalking off into the crowd.

Y/n exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing as the immediate threat dissipated. She turned to Jonathan with a sympathetic smile, offering him a reassuring nod.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, concern evident in her eyes.

Jonathan nodded, gratitude swelling in his chest. "Thanks to you," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n's smile widened, and she reached out to gently squeeze his shoulder. "Anytime," she said. “You wanna come sit with my friends and me?” Y/n offered, her voice carrying a warmth that melted away some of Jonathan's anxiety.

Jonathan felt his heart flutter in his chest. Was she really inviting him to join her? He glanced down, adjusting his glasses to hide the nervousness he felt bubbling inside.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just don’t want Aaron coming back to bother you,” Y/n added, her concern evident in her tone.

“I’d like that,” Jonathan replied, his voice soft but resolute.

Y/n's smile widened. Jonathan began gathering his things, carefully stowing his book in his bag before turning to his sandwich. However, his heart sank as he realized it had been scattered across the table, a casualty of Aaron's aggression.

With a frustrated huff, Jonathan began collecting the remnants of his meal, his movements tinged with embarrassment. Y/n watched him with a sympathetic gaze.

“Do you have anything else to eat?” Y/n asked gently.

Jonathan shook his head, a pang of hunger gnawing at his stomach as he disposed of the ruined sandwich in the nearby bin.

“I have some food you can have if you’d like,” Y/n offered, her voice warm and inviting.

“It’s okay, you should eat your food, don’t worry about me,” Jonathan replied, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“It’s fine, my dad always packs me too much anyways,” Y/n insisted, her smile unwavering.

Y/n reached out a hand towards Jonathan, silently inviting him to join her. He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness and gratitude, before accepting her gesture.

As they walked together towards Y/n's table, Jonathan couldn't help but steal glances at her. She walked with an effortless grace, her presence exuding a sense of comfort that eased the tension coiled within him.

Arriving at the table, Y/n pulled out a sandwich from her bag, “You can have this one, I don’t feel like eating two ham sandwiches today.” Without hesitation, she handed it to Jonathan, a small but genuine smile gracing her lips.

Jonathan accepted the sandwich with a grateful nod, his stomach rumbling in anticipation of the unexpected meal. He glanced around the table, noticing Y/n's friends chatting and laughing amongst themselves. They didn't seem to pay him much mind, but Jonathan didn't mind. His focus was solely on Y/n, her presence casting a comforting glow that made him feel at ease.

Settling into his seat, Jonathan began unwrapping the sandwich, the simple act of kindness from Y/n filling him with a sense of warmth that he hadn't felt in a long time. As he took a bite, he couldn't help but steal another glance at Y/n, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over him for her unexpected kindness.

-

It was perfect that he shared lunch with Y/n, not just because Jonathan cherished her company, but also because they had a class together, offering the perfect excuse to stroll side by side. With each step, Jonathan felt a sense of pride swell within him, as if walking with Y/n wasn’t just out of practicality, but because they were together, almost like a couple.

Y/n's lively chatter filled the air as they walked through the corridors, but Jonathan found himself lost in her presence, captivated by her every word and movement. Arriving at their classroom, they settled into their familiar seats, and Jonathan couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as Y/n's arm brushed against his own, sending his heart into a flutter.

In that moment, Jonathan felt a sense of certainty wash over him. Y/n was meant for him, of that he was sure. Her smiles, her kindness, her very essence seemed to affirm his belief. No girl had ever shown him such warmth, and he couldn't deny the connection he felt with her.

As he sat beside her, Jonathan knew he had to ask her out. It had taken him over a week to muster the courage to ask out Sherry, but with Y/n, it felt different. She lifted his spirits effortlessly, instilling in him a newfound confidence. Though they had only known each other for a short time, Jonathan couldn't shake the feeling that she was the right one.

-

Walking out of class together, their steps echoing faintly in the empty hallway, Jonathan and Y/n exchanged casual conversation. Their last periods were both study periods, which gave them the opportunity to leave school early. As they stepped into the open air outside the building, Jonathan's heart drummed against his ribcage. He knew he had to ask her out. There was no turning back now.

Approaching the familiar corner where their paths diverged, the pair came to a halt and turned to face each other. The soft afternoon sunlight cast a warm glow around them, highlighting Y/n's radiant smile.

"Thanks for walking with me. See you tomorrow," Y/n said, her smile warming Jonathan's heart as she prepared to bid him farewell.

Summoning every ounce of courage, Jonathan spoke up, his words hanging in the air between them like delicate wisps of anticipation. "U-uh, Y/n?" he began, his voice betraying a slight tremor of nervousness.

"Yes, Jonathan?" Y/n replied, her eyes fixed on him expectantly, a gentle curiosity gleaming within them.

This was his moment. Jonathan took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. "I-I was wondering… if y-you'd like to go out with me?" he managed to utter, his heart pounding furiously against his chest, his hands trembling ever so slightly with nervous anticipation.

As he observed her reaction, he detected a subtle change in her demeanor. The radiant smile that had graced her lips moments ago seemed to wane, replaced by a hint of saddness that creased her brow ever so slightly. Jonathan's stomach churned with apprehension as he realized he might have misread the situation.

In that moment, he felt like a complete idiot. He berated himself internally for being so stupid, for daring to hope for something more. Jonathan's gaze faltered, his eyes dropping to the ground in a gesture of defeat. He cursed his own foolishness, reprimanding himself for misinterpreting Y/n's kindness as something it wasn't.

"I'm sorry, I never should have asked," Jonathan murmured, his voice tinged with shame.

Y/n's gentle touch on his arm made him glance up, meeting her gaze once more. He was met with a look of sincerity and understanding, her eyes soft with empathy.

"No, it's not that, Jonathan..." Y/n began, her voice tender as she sought to reassure him. "I'm sorry, I do like you, Jonathan, it's just... I'm not really ready to date anyone at the moment," she explained, her words laced with a hint of guilt.

Jonathan felt a mixture of relief and disappointment wash over him. He appreciated Y/n's honesty, but he couldn't shake the sting of rejection. Nevertheless, he managed a small nod, acknowledging her words.

Jonathan's heart sank as he prepared himself for rejection, his mind already forming apologies for his audacity. But then, Y/n spoke, her voice soft yet firm, cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.

"It's okay, Y/n," Jonathan replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of disappointment and acceptance. "I understand. Thank you for being honest with me."

Y/n's expression softened, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thank you for understanding, Jonathan. You're a good friend."

The weight of her words settled over him, and Jonathan couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth blossom within his chest. Despite the outcome not being what he had hoped for, he found solace in the bond they shared and the prospect of their continued friendship.

With a faint smile, Jonathan mustered the courage to meet Y/n's gaze once more. "I'm glad we can still be friends," he said, his voice soft yet sincere.

Y/n returned his smile, her eyes reflecting warmth and gratitude. "Me too, Jonathan," she replied, reaching out to gently squeeze his arm.

Jonathan's heart swelled as she suddenly pulled him closer, wrapping him in a warm embrace. His breath caught in his throat, momentarily stunned by the unexpected gesture. He hesitated for a moment before tentatively returning the hug, savoring the fleeting moment between them.

As Y/n pulled away, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a pang of longing, wishing he could hold onto the moment just a little longer. He watched in awe as she walked away, her figure disappearing down the street. Despite the bittersweet twinge of unrequited feelings, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for Y/n's grace and kindness.

He knew that she was the one he wanted to be with. Her kindness, understanding, and genuine nature spoke volumes to him, reaffirming his belief that she was worth waiting for.

As he watched her walk away, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a profound sense of connection to her, a feeling he hadn't experienced with anyone else before. He knew that their bond was special, even if it wasn't romantic just yet. And while he longed for more, he was willing to be patient, knowing that good things often took time.

With a wistful smile, Jonathan silently vowed to cherish their friendship and support Y/n in any way he could. He was willing to wait for her, confident that their paths would eventually align in the future. And as he continued on his journey home, he carried with him a sense of hope and anticipation, knowing that she was worth the wait.

-

A/N: Sorry this took so long to come out, as usual, uni shit 💀 (cause I'm a dumb ass doing a double major) I set this after the Halloween party, so Jonathan probably should have been more aggressive and all that shit, but in the comic, he's all shy and all that stuff with Sherry (before the prank), so I wanted to keep along those lines. I really hope I did this request justice as I loved it so much. Thank you all for reading and I hope you liked it as much as I liked writing it 💚

#fanfic #jonathan crane #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane x reader #batman #nolanverse #comic book jonathan crane #comicbook jonathan crane #canon jonathan crane #high school jonathan crane #young jonathan crane #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy scarecrow #cillian x reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #the dark knight trilogy #the dark knight #batman scarecrow #batman begins #dc scarecrow #the scarecrow #scarecrow #comic book scarecrow #scarecrow x reader

[cherrycrushes]

can you please write more for benedict ?? i love the one you did about his muse !!! (no pressure obvs <33)

a dream with an artist - oneshot

b. bridgerton x reader.

a/n: yess tysm! also this is based off the faye webster song called a dream with a baseball player :)

sitting on a chaise, you were surrounded by the warmth of the sunlight. it was slowly turning into the evening. you were reading a book, with benedict's head on your lap. stroking his hair softly as you read the words on the page out loud. his soft snores echoing in the drawing room.

his hands that were now fallen, were occupied with his sketch book and quill. he had dozed off while sketching items in the room to your voice.

"lady y/n! lady y/n!"

and you woke up. sitting up, you saw your lady's maid standing at the entrance of your door.

"well good morning to you as well, miss. clark," you yawned and stretched. "what ever seems to be the problem?"

"miss y/n, pardon my intrusion, but your grandmother has passed this morning," miss. clark bows deeply. you could feel your heart shatter.

as the daughter of a marquis, your family has lots of power. power that could be taken advantage of. you knew because of your grandmothers death that many men would console you in an attempt to rise the ranks. though you knew you had your eyes set on a certain bridgerton, you had to be careful.

miss clark raises from her bow at her silence, and passes you the letter. opened, which you presume was because of your mother, and you could see the stamp of black wax on the end of it.

the letter described that your grandmother had passed in her sleep, discovered by one of her servants. it was expected of your family to be at her funeral in a churchyard. her wishes are to be surrounded by her family and other family friends.

off you were, facing your mother and father on the other side of a carriage. dressed in black italian gauze over a white slip, black gloves reaching until your elbow, you looked out the window. the drive was quiet, as your father acted as stoic as ever and your mother itching to say something. she tapped her finger rapidly on her knee, as if to muster up courage.

"you know, dearest, the bridgertons may be there," she said awkwardly.

you raised an eyebrow at her. it would make sense that they would- your mother and dowager viscountess bridgerton being close friends. you wish you could say the same to her children. the only way you've interacted with any of them is with benedict in your dreams.

"that's interesting, mother," you tried to dismiss.

usually when mourning, you didn't like to talk. a bit overcome with sadness. it would be easy for you to avoid people at the funeral, being known as mysterious to the ton. the carriage arrived at the church as your parents exited first. you walked up, hearing whispers about you as you did.

as the society mourning continued, you had spaced out the entire time. the reception was over before you knew it, and you were at your mothers side to accept any prayers.

the bridgerton family were over, giving their thoughts and prayers. while you weren't paying attention, you finally looked up from the ground. only to make eye contact with the second oldest bridgerton. you two shared the moment, as if telling each other to meet later and talk.

so you did, after the amount of families you have talked to. you were at a table, enjoying the sights of finger food and eavesdropping. you turned around as someone cleared his throat behind you.

"lady y/n pemberton," benedict announced. "good to see you."

he took your hand and pressed a kiss against it, causing a faint heat creep up on your cheeks.

"a pleasure to see you as well, mr. bridgerton," you replied, clearing your throat. "thank you for your prayers earlier."

realizing your mistake, you had tried to correct yourself.

"and your families' as well! it was sweet," you scrambled.

he chuckled lightly at your response. "no problem. i hope everything goes well in mourning of course?"

to this you simply nod. wanting to melt away in the crowd due to your embarrassment.

he bid his farewells, which you returned. red on your face increasing.

how did you fall in love with someone you didn't know?

#☎️ cherry’s line! #benedict bridgerton x you #x reader #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton

[thorias]

So I know I've been fixated on this, but the more I think about it, the more signs are pointing to the timeline getting reset. Upon rewatch, there are just so many things about the events of ep5 that simply don't add up if this was meant to be permanent.

First, there was that weird psychic blast that hit Madelyne/Jean right before the attack. What was that about? Could it have been Cable? Possibly. But it seems awkward when it happens right before he shows up in the flesh anyway, so my guess is it had to do with someone else. But who?

It might be a stretch, but given what happened in ep6 with Xavier on his way back to Earth now, I could see it being Charles trying to warn them from the future via time travel tech. I might be way off base on that one, but we've certainly seen weirder things happen.

Also, Rogue wearing a version of her famous first-date-with-Remy dress in the comics only to dance with Magneto while Remy dies without knowing that she'd chosen him is a detail that stands out like a sore thumb. That didn't happen by accident. This was a very deliberate choice by the writers and unless the point of it was to just be intentionally cruel to Gambit AND Romy fans, (and I kind of doubt it was) this is going to come back somehow. These writers have been very reverential to the comics and they had to have known how fans would react to that. If those events aren't going to change so Rogue dances with Gambit instead, (paying off that line in ep1 about suffering her hand for a dance) then why do it this way? To heartbreakingly end one of the most iconic and popular relationships from X-MEN TAS, which was built up over 5 seasons, with no payoff at all? How is that an ending that would satisfy anybody?

Maybe I've got my tinfoil hat on a little too tight right now, but I just don't see any way that this is going to stick. I don't know if the attack will be prevented entirely, (probably not, tbh) but something about that night is going to be changed. You don't establish that the whole reason Cable's here is to stop the attack and then have him completely fail at stopping it.

Maybe Cable, Xavier and Forge put their heads together, get Cable's tech working properly and manage to warn everyone in time to make a difference.

In fact, I read a brilliant theory the other day that Xavier would use Madelyne/Jean as psychic conduits to make the X-men and everyone at the gala remember what happened before the attack starts, giving them enough of a heads up to save themselves. And ep5 was literally titled 'Remember It'; I mean, it could be more perfect.

AND since Sinister was behind the attack, how fitting would it be for Cable (the product of Sinister's machinations) to be the one who thwarts him?

What if Cable and Xavier manage to warn everyone in time, all the mutants of Genosha band together with the X-men to take the Wild Sentinel down and then afterward the gala happens, but with Rogue dancing with Remy this time?

I don't know... that's probably wrapping things up too neatly (and the teases of Remy becoming Death are piling up fast, so we can't rule that out) and I'm sure there are going to be consequences to the Sentinel attack that stick even if they do reset things, but narratively, this would make a lot of sense, not to mention finish the story in a way that doesn't leave Gambit/Romy fans utterly depressed and miserable.

#x men 97 #fingers crossed #gambit #remy lebeau #rogue #anna marie lebeau #romy #cable #xavier #x men the animated series #rogue x gambit #cable get your ass back here and fix this shit

[melodygatesauthor]

Feeling You Can't Fight - Chapter Three

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - Pride Event Fic 🏳️‍🌈

Written for the @flightlessangelwings pride event - (Yes this was written for the 2023 pride event and I'm trying to finish it before pride 2024 I'M SORRY).

Summary (Entire Fic Summary)

After replacing the loathsome former staff manager of the National Art Gallery in London, you find yourself all too interested in one of your employees in particular. Manager and employee relationships aren't allowed, and even if they were, you aren't sure if the nervous gift shoppist would be interested in you anyway. There's only one way to find out...

Reader Inclusivity

Reader is not race coded, is a cis man, taller than MK by a few inches, British, ex military, has a big peen

Tags/Warnings (for entire series)

NSFW, writer is NOT from the UK so please be gentle, I did my best with UK terms and such, smut, anal sex, oral sex, anal creampies, cum eating, cum swallowing, rough sex, Marc has DID, reader has mild PTSD, PTSD symptoms, trauma responses, semi-public sex, praise kink, fluff, comfort, angst, romance, love, forbidden relationship (boss and employee), minor physical violence.

Word Count: 3.1k

“Wait love wait!”

The entire demeanor of the man in front of you changed into the sweet, caring man that you were smitten with. You let go of him, stepping back and looking down at him with a furrowed brow. You felt your heart racing as your fight or flight kicked in. Steven looked nervous as he stepped forward, pressing his palm to your broad chest.

“D-darling I…well…we have something we want to share with you and I thought that if we’re getting more serious then…no time like the present yeah?”

“Steven…what’s going on?” You were trying not to express your irritation with him, but your balled fists gave you away.

“M’gonna let Marc tell you everything but you have to promise not to hurt him, yeah?” Steven looked up at you, brows turned up and knitted together as he awaited your answer.

He gulped, rubbing your clothed pecks with his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles in your button-down. He tried smiling at you, biting his bottom lip. You didn’t like making Steven so frightened so you let out a deep exhale. If he wasn’t scared or in danger, then you didn’t need to be so on edge. You nodded slowly.

Steven let out a deep breath, “right then, gonna let him out now.”

You watched in awe as Steven’s eyes rolled back in his head and then his body changed again. He stood a little taller, and his expression appeared a little darker. The man breathed deeply, looking up at you before pulling his hand off your body as though he’d been burned. He averted his gaze. You could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks get a little more rosy.

“What the fuck is happenin’?” You asked in a serious tone.

“Look, I told Steven you weren’t ready for this conversation but he insisted we have it so…here we are. He said it was gettin’ serious with you and he didn’t want any more secrets between you two,” he cleared his throat nervously, “my name is Marc Spector.” The man shrugged, “I guess the easiest way to tell you is to just get it out there so…I have an identity disorder as a result of my childhood trauma.”

You both stood silently for a moment while you absorbed the information. You recalled your time in the British Armed Forces, and some of the horrific things you’d seen. Trauma caused the brain to do amazing things; Things that were difficult to explain sometimes. You understood trauma well. You looked at Marc’s face, seeing the seriousness behind his eyes. This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t some guy trying to mess with you, or pull a fast one on you. This was a man who had been through something horrible, or several horrible things, and it caused his mind to tear at the seams.

You nodded in understanding, “alright, yeah, I don’t know everything there is to know about identity disorders but, I’ve got some mental issues of my own mate, keep goin’.”

Marc nodded and exhaled in relief, “well, my…our mom…”

You put a hand on Marc’s shoulder, “s’fine, you don’t have to explain it t’me.”

“I…Steven, wants me to, he wants you to know, and he’s right…I need to be the one to tell you, because I’m the one who was there.” He looked away from you and at the floor, “our mom used to beat me, she hated me.”

You squeezed Marc’s shoulder gently. His head jolted up, glossed eyes meeting with yours. He shook his head, as though he were begging you not to make him continue.

“I meant what I said, and I’m talkin’ to Steven too…you don’t have to explain this t’me. I understand.”

“Fuck,” Marc said, turning away from you and covering his face in his hands.

I was awkward as hell to stand there while Marc cried, but you were glad he was getting it off his chest. You wondered if he’d ever shared this with anyone, or if it was only you. Either way, you knew he wasn’t sharing for his own sake, but instead for Steven’s, and you could respect that. When you look back now, you think that on the same day you met Marc, was the day you fell in love with him too, but you didn’t realize it yet.

“There’s another one too,” Marc looked at the water glass on the table.“Steven, I have to tell him.” You watched the - from your perspective - one sided conversation between Marc and Steven. “You didn’t want to keep this a secret but you want to keep him a secret? St–” Marc grumbled and then looked at you, “I’m telling you, even though Steven doesn’t want me to.”

“Tellin’ me what?”

“Jake is the third one of us. You may never meet him, but he’s here nonetheless,” Marc let out a sharp exhale, “We don’t really see him much either, but…the three of us get along…kinda.”

“Well, if he’s part of Steven’s life, then I look forward to meeting him,” you gave Marc a kind smirk.

You watched Marc’s entire body language change. It wasn’t like before when he switched from Steven to himself, but instead, it looked like his entire body relaxed with your reassurance. Marc looked like he might collapse and start crying again right then and there. You wondered when the last time he’d talked to someone about this was…if he’d ever talked to someone about this.

“Damn. That was…easier than I thought. You took that surprisingly well,” he said, giving you a tight lipped smirk.

“Had a boatload of therapy,” you shrugged, “I learnt long ago that you can’t really tell how the mind is gonna deal with trauma.” You thought now was as good a time as any to change the subject, seeing that Marc was getting uncomfortable again. “So are you…do you like…” you pointed to yourself. Of course you would hop from one uncomfortable topic to another.

Marc’s eyes shot wide once he realized what you were suggesting, “no, no, I like women, one hundred percent.”

Marc crossed his arms and cleared his throat nervously.

“But this, Steven and me, that doesn’t bother you?” You asked.

“Oh, oh, no. Steven’s happy, and the way I see it, that’s the only thing that matters,” Marc’s lips managed to curl into a smirk.

You could tell he cared about Steven, and so the two of you had that much in common, but that wasn’t the last time you saw Marc. You saw him again when you and Steven got into your first argument. It wasn’t anything serious, but it seemed to upset Steven enough to force him into the headspace.

The argument was stupid, and if you were being honest, it was a little funny. Steven walked into your office one afternoon, closing the door behind himself. He was stammering, as he often did when he was thinking about what he wanted to say faster than the words could come out. You chuckled, standing up and walking over to him, cupping his face.

“S’alright love, just tell me what’s wrong,” you brushed your thumb over his stubbled cheek.

“Gettin’ fed up with Linda not pickin’ up her mess in the break room,” Steven groaned, “I know s’not a big deal, not really, but I told her three times to pick up after herself and she still acts like a right slob.”

“Steven, that’s not really somethin’ I deal with,” you said as he huffed out a frustrated breath.

“I know, sometimes I just want to complain a bit, yeah?”

“C’mere,” you said, motioning with your finger.

He walked back over to you and pressed his face into your chest, “I’m irritated.”

You wrapped your arms around him, “I know darling,” you pushed him back at arm’s length, but I know something that might help.”

Steven had joked about wanting to blow you under your desk, but he’d never actually done it yet. In fact, he hadn’t blown you before at all. He acted like you were doing him a favor when you sat down in your big office chair with your legs spread out and his face between them. The way his eyes went wide with excitement and he started drooling you would’ve thought he was the one getting a blowjob.

He looked hungry, fumbling with the button and then the zipper of your pants as he released your cock from its confines. He always - always - made a comment about how big you were. His eyes crossed as your dick lined up between them, and he seemed breathless despite not yet having done anything at all.

“Steven, darling, might be too big f’you to fit in your mouth, it’s alright if you don’t want to.”

He looked up at you, putting a hand on either of your thighs.

“I want to,” he said softly.

Steven licked a stripe up your length, forcing your cock to twitch in response. You grabbed the arms of your chair as he repeated the gesture. You bucked your hips upward involuntarily. Steven giggled and looked up at you.

“Ooh, needy…” He wrapped his fingers around your girth, pumping up and down slowly, “you’re a bit leaky too love.”

“Are you gonna keep teasin’ me, or are you gonna be a good boy and take this thing like you were made to?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Steven nodded with a shaky breath, smile fading at your words. You felt bad being so verbally rough with him sometimes, but you knew he enjoyed it. Whenever the two of you were in bed together it was like flipping a switch, making him hard in an instant. You slid down further in your chair, moving one of your hands to the back of his curly head.

He licked up your length again before taking the head in his mouth. You shuddered seeing Steven’s lips stretched around your fat dick. It seemed like he really was made to take it, sliding over the length as though his gag reflex was nonexistent. You exhaled sharply, feeling the way his tongue rolled over the underside of your shaft.

“Oh god Steven, takin’ me so well love, that’s it, just like t-that,” you pushed him down over you even more, “you tap my knee if it’s too much darling, don’t wanna hurt you.”

You felt his throat contract around you. There was still more to go, and you wanted nothing more than to see your entire dick disappear inside his precious mouth. You brushed a thumb over his cheek.

“Relax your throat, Steven, open up f’me,” you felt his muscles relax and you were able to push in further. “That’s it, that’s my good boy.”

Steven moaned over your length as he started bobbing his head in a delicious rhythm. He took one hand off your thighs and you heard the clank of his belt while he started freeing his own cock. The sound of him jerking himself could just barely be heard over the sound of him choking on your dick.

He looked up at you with affectionate and tear glossed eyes when you carded your hand through his hair. You bit your bottom lip and started rolling your hips slowly forward into his mouth, brushing your pubes against his nose as he took every single inch you had to offer.

“Steven, you sure you’ve never done this before?” Your entire body trembled, “s-so good…”

You heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching the door. You both froze.

“Steven, you locked the door, yeah?”

Steven, in fact, hadn’t locked the door.

Steven made himself as hidden as he could in the space under your desk, where the intruder wouldn’t be able to see him. You rolled up as close as you could get without crushing him in there. John, your boss, walked in, smiling big. He stepped over, putting a hand on the varnished surface of the desk, leaning in to talk to you.

“Hey! Just stoppin’ in to tell you I think you’re doin’ great, and those reports you sent me yesterday…perfect.” He patted your shoulder and you jumped in response.

You felt Steven between your legs trying to put your cock back in your pants, but struggling given its current…state. You were close before while he had it buried in his throat, and that hadn’t changed in the seconds that had gone by. You were still close, and him moving it around wasn’t helping that issue. You kept your eyes on John, but tried like hell to push Steven’s hands and face away from you, but to no avail.

“Well I’m…oh…” you cleared your throat, “I’m glad you l-liked them.”

Steven didn’t get the hint, he was still sliding his hand over your length, trying to get it back inside your boxers. You couldn’t try very hard to stop him, or it would be obvious you were trying to do something under your desk, so you stopped trying, and just hoped that John would leave before…oh god.

You slammed your hand on the desk, “f-fuck!”

To John, you must’ve looked insane, like you were staring at him wide-eyed and shouting for no apparent reason. To you and Steven, you were coming, hot ropes of your spend hitting your boyfriend in the face under the desk. You managed to keep yourself from saying anything too telling, and you kept your breathing level…as level as you could.

“Fuck I forgot to sign the agreement for the…the uhhh–”

“Oh! For the new display going into the Ancient Egypt section of course! I’ll go get that right now!” John chuckled, “glad you remembered that, I’ll be right back.”

As he walked out, you rolled back in your chair to see Steven’s pretty face covered in globs of your spend. He looked pissed off, crawling out from under the desk and grabbing a few tissues from your desk to clean himself off.

“Darling, what’s wrong? You’re the one who–”

“You…did this…all over my face!”

“Love, I couldn’t help it, you kept touchin’ me and–”

“And,” he held a finger up, “and you could’ve locked the door before havin’ me do that in the first place!”

“Steven, you could’ve locked the door yourself when you walked–”

“I wasn’t plannin’ to come in here and do somethin’ like that now was I?”

You could see the embarrassment in his flush cheeks. He seemed exasperated, chest rising and falling with every heavy breath. He wasn’t really mad at you, but you doubted you’d be getting another ‘under the desk’ blow job any time soon.

“Now your boss knows what we were doin’ and he’s gonna make you fire me and maybe he’ll even fire you and–”

“Stop…” you cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

“No!” he pushed you off of him, “no, m’not gonna let you just kiss this one away. We could’ve been caught, you’re reckless and this isn’t like me at all! I don’t do things like this!” Steven stormed out of your office, passing John on his way out.

That was it…that was the argument.

You supposed that with Steven never having really been in a relationship before, an argument with his first ever significant other could be upsetting, despite it being such a silly thing to argue over. Taking that into consideration, you decided to tread lightly when you got home, toeing off your shoes in the entryway of his flat when you arrived almost silently. That’s when you noticed that Marc was there, not Steven.

“Hey,” he said, tipping back the beer in his hand and then holding it up, “want one?”

You shook your head, “no thanks.”

It was like Steven had a roommate. At least…that’s how it felt. Marc was the more stern one, like he was the polar opposite of Steven, but you didn’t mind. You liked the company regardless. Marc was a good guy, you could just tell. After a couple of minutes talking about the weather, the two of you managed to get into something more serious. 

“You said you’ve been to therapy? Mind if I ask what for?” Marc took another swig of his beer.

“Uh, PTSD, spent a few years in the British Armed Forces and then got myself honorably discharged after…” you sniffed out a laugh, “maybe I will take that drink after all.”

After a few drinks, you and Marc were trading war stories and with it, your tales of trauma. You wondered how long it was going to take him to open up to you about why and how Steven came to be, but there Marc was, letting down his always stoic demeanor in order to open himself up to you.

He cried, and you opened your arms to him.

“No, no I told you I’m not…that’s not my thing…”

You laughed, “s’not a ‘thing’ to hug someone when they’re sad, Marc. C’mere…”

You tugged his jacket and pulled his rigid frame into your arms, wrapping them around him tightly. At first he was stiff, still mumbling some protests, but then you felt him exhale, like his entire body were a balloon being emptied of the air inside of it. That’s when the heavier sobs came, tears spilling out of his eyes and onto your forearm.

“Steven is so good, and sometimes I think it would just be best if I don’t ever come out. Sometimes I think that the world would be a better place without me in it,” he said between heavy cries. He looked up at you, “Steven could be happy, and be with you all the time and–”

“Steven would miss you, Marc,” you looked into his eyes, seeing the pain he felt just made you want to hold him closer, but you knew that would only make it more awkward.

You didn’t have to worry about feeling awkward though, because he leaned up and slotted his lips over yours all on his own. You pulled back in surprise, wondering if he did that by mistake or not, or if Steven had decided to come back when you didn’ notice.

“S-Steven?” You asked, looking between his eyes rapidly.

He shook his head, “no, still me,” he said breathlessly, looking down at your mouth before pulling you in again.

You smiled against his lips, “how unexpected.”

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #marc spector fiction #marc spector headcanon #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector smut #moon knight drabble #marc spector drabble #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight male reader #moon knight male reader fanfiction #marc spector male reader #marc spector male reader fanfiction #steven grant male reader #steven grant male reader fanfiction #steven grant x reader #steven grant x male reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x male reader #jake lockley male reader fanfiction #male reader insert #fawpride2023

[tr-mha-fan]

At first please excuse my bad english. But I wanted to ask if you can write a oneshot/headcone about bakugo in which the reader get hurt and he is afraid to loose her. Thank you ^^

And by the way I really like your writing style:)

Awwww! Thanks Anon! This is kind of my first real request, so Im happy! Here😉

⚠️TW⚠️: mentions of injury, death, depression, sh, and su/c/de(these will be italicized, so feel free to read)

Bakugou when his S/O gets hurt

You two are in a battle against villains

You get hurt when you were fighting 3 villains at once, on your own

You lose consciousness and are now in a coma

the doctors don't know when you'll wake up

Bakugou blames himself for not protecting you correctly

He stays by your side the whole time

Sleeps in the hospital, on a chair, his head on your bed

Has nightmares of the moment when you got stabbed

He talks in his nightmares, his voice wavering and quivering

"Don't leave me, please..."

"I can't live without you!"

Cries when he's alone in your hospital room with you, eyeing your sleeping state, noticing how peaceful you look

When you wake up, he starts crying, no matter who else is in the room with y'all

He clings to you like a little child does to his mother

Doesn't leave your side AT ALL during your 2 week recovery stay in the hospital unless you're going to the bathroom

When you're released, he doesn't let you do ANYTHING

Carries everything for you, even your school bag

When you're going somewhere he has to carry you AT LEAST half the way (whether it's bridal style or piggy back)

Once you're good enough to start training again, he convinces Aizawa-sensei to put you against the weakest classmates

Makes sure everyone goes easy on you until you're fully recovered

If you guys have to fight real life villains again (I mean, this is class 1a, of course they're gonna fight real villains) he stays beside you the whole entire fight, making sure you don't get hurt again

Now, if instead, you don't survive (if you get triggered by the TW's at the beginning, I advise you don't read this part)

When your heart monitor flatlines, he goes into a state of denial

Tears start streaming down his cheeks without him even noticing

The doctors rush in to see what's wrong

Bakugou starts blaming the doctors, saying they didn't do enough to save you

He falls to his knees, burying his face in his hands as he bawls, now blaming himself for not protecting you

He refuses to leave your body, even when his mom tries to pull him out the room

He gets severely depressed

Doesn't talk to anyone, not during classes, training, or just regular days

Everyone else is also affected by your death, but Katsuki is 100x worse

All your other classmates (specifically the Bakusquad) try to cheer him up, despite their own pain

Bakugou loses it, and starts self harming, blaming himself for your death, that if he had been a better boyfriend, you wouldn't have died

After a short while, two months tobe exact, he has had enough

He decides to end it, jumping off the roof in the middle of the night

Well hello there hoomans, I hope you enjoyed, and once again, Thanks anon! As you can see, I love angst, so I put that angstier ending, hehe 😈

Kazurora out!

#Mha #Bnha #Mha x reader #Bnha x reader #Bakugou #Katsuki #Bakugou angst #Angst #Bakugou katsuki #Bakugou x reader #Bakugou x yn #Bakugou x you #Katsuki x reader #Katsuki x yn #Katsuki x you #Mha angst #Bnha angst

[propertyofyoutube]

HIIII okay so i wanted to say I LOVE your stories! I haven't come around to reading Our Time is Now yet but I really want to. Also I have one request, but I'm not sure if you'd be comfortable writing that one, so I have another one just in case!

So, would it be comfortable to request a Dom!Reader x Colby? Like, they're both in the "do I like them or not" stage and they're at a party, and Colby ends up trying to make Reader jealous, but she's having none of that?

If you're not comfortable writing something like that, I would also LOVE a fluff fic with Sam x Reader, where like Reader's on her period and Sam takes care of her? And it's just so so sweet?

Again, absolute ADORE your fics, and can't wait to see more of what you have in store for us! ^^

Authors note: FIRSTLY… OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH!! 🥺🖤 and secondly I loveee these requests! So here is the Colby one and I will also do the Sam one very sooon! I also may do a part two to this where reader really does hard on him in a more controlled setting. Again, thank you I’m so glad you’re enjoying my stuff! Xx

You’re this close to cracking - EXPLICIT

Summary: you and Colby had been best friends for a while now. You began to think there may be something more between you after, on the last night out, Colby ‘scared away’ the guy you wanted to take home. He thought you didn’t notice what he did, but you saw the whole thing… flash forward to a party and after you turn Colby down, he does everything in his power to make you jealous…

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, dom!reader x Colby, sub!colby, unprotected sex, bad language, creampie, bit of filth, Colby making reader jealous, using someone, argument.

Not edited.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The music blared as the colourful lights bounced around the club. The entire room filled with sweaty bodies among the machine induced fog. You were on another night out with your best friends. This had became a weekly occurrence for the friend group, as you were all so busy, Saturday night outs were the perfect way to ensure that you could still stay in touch amongst the chaos of your lives.

The night was going amazingly. You had hit it off with the cutest guy, he was hot as fuck and actually seemed like a nice guy. You had just headed to the bathroom after telling the girls how hard you were going to rock his world later on tonight. But all of that changed as you walked out of the bathroom to see Colby, near the bar, stood with the guy. And the way he was talking did not seem very nice. The guy stepped back from Colby before holding up his hands and walking away. Your blood boiled as the guy headed in your direction.

“Hey! Where are you going?” You said trying to mask your confusion.

“I.. uh… I gotta go sorry.” He said abruptly as he walked quickly away from you. You look back at Colby after watching him leave, your face dropped massively as you began to walk over to him. Your body rising with both confusion and anger. Colby noticed you heading his way as his eyes fell wide.

“What the fuck are you doing, Colby?” You shouted over the loud music as the guy you had hit it off with hurried away.

Colby looked at you wide eyed, he didn’t think he would get caught chasing that guy away, “I- I just…”

You stood, shocked as you waited for him to speak, but he didn’t, “what did you say to him?”

“I just… you don’t want to be banging a guy like that y/n!” He shouted back.

You covered for eyes trying to comprehend what was happening, but the truth was… you had no idea. “Why on earth are you telling me who I can and can’t bang all of a sudden!” You shouted.

Colby downed the rest of his drink, trying to find the right words to say, but the truth is, he didn’t know either. “You deserve better than that, y/n…”

You froze, confused. Was it the alcohol that was making him act like this? “Colby… I don’t get it. I’m not looking to marry that guy!”

Colby’s heart began beating fast as he felt his stomach do a flip, thinking of you being with that guy… or any guy, “you need to just… stop sleeping with the first guy you see!” Colby shouted, his feelings all over the place and the alcohol certainly not helping. You heart broke as you tried to understand what he meant by that comment. Your eyes started to fill at his whore insinuation.

Colby froze, he realised just how bad that sounded, “y/n… I didn’t-“

“Fuck you colby…” you said your eyes almost pouring. You quickly pushed past him heading for the door of the club.

Colby sighed feeling frustrated with himself, hurting you was the complete opposite of what he was aiming for tonight. “Y/n! Wait!” You couldn’t hear him over the music as you finally reached the door, pushing past the crowd into the street. The fresh air hitting you refreshingly as you stood. Your tears beginning to roll down your makeup covered cheeks.

“Y/n!” Colby shouted as he manoeuvred around the people entering the club.

You spun around, more annoyed than ever, “what Colby?” You shouted, fed up.

“I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean it like that.” Colby said grabbing your arms as you looked everywhere but at him.

“Oh really…” you said rolling your eyes, “because it sounded like you were calling me a whore, to me…”

“No no no…” Colby said with panic on his voice, “I don’t think you’re a whore, I could never think that… you’re not!” He babbled.

“Then what the fuck Colby?” You shouted, as you walked away from him. You couldn’t take this confused situation any longer.

“I just… the truth is…” Colby said his voice softening as he looked at the back of your head, “I couldn’t stand to see you with him.”

Your stomach filled with butterflies as your brain fumbled for an answer to what Colby meant. “I don’t get what you mean Colby! So what… I can’t fuck somebody because… what? Because you don’t like the look of us together?”

“No it’s not that I-“ Colby couldn’t speak, his heart was telling him one thing, but he brain was saying another.

“Then what Colby? What the fuck are you doing?” You said annoyed, “why are you being like this?!”

Colby suddenly grabbed your face with both hands and before you realised what was happening, his lips were pressed tightly against yours. He caught you completely off guard. So you pulled back, looking at him shocked. Granted that yours and Colby friendship was predominantly late night drives, sexual tension and flirtatious banter, but you had already had this conversation before… your friendship meant too much to you both to risk.

Colby looked at you, slightly embarrassed and annoyed at himself, “I’m sorry…” he said letting go of your face taking a step back.

“What is going on Colby?” You asked, desperate for some answers at this point.

“I couldn’t stand to see you with him, because…” Colby took a deep breath before finishing, “because I think I… I like you.” He looked at the floor, his cheeks flushing red. You had never seen Colby like this. Not with you, not with anymore.

You chuckled nervously, “Colbs… we talked about this…” you said softly, your anger melting away.

“I know…” Colby said, slightly disheartened as he looked at the floor.

“Our friendship, it’s too great for us to lose…” you said honestly. But all you could think about was how his lips felt on yours. And how deep down, you wanted nothing more than to feel that all over again. After all, throughout your friendship you often had dreamed of what it would be like.

Colby stopped, his hands on his hips as he took a deep breath to look at you. He sighed as he spoke, “no. You know what? Fuck that.” He said as your eyebrows frowned in confusion. “I think… wait no I know that I want you, y/n.”

Your eyes fell wide. You didn’t know what to do, or feel.

Colby took a step closer to you as he continued, “I think you should give me a chance.” He said with a smirk.

‘The alcohol… I must be the alcohol’ you thought to yourself as you chuckled, “Colby… your drunk-“

“So what, doesn’t mean it’s not the truth!” Colby said with an excited smile on his face.

“And… you know you couldn’t handle me.” You said back with a smirk.

Colby bit his lip, loving the flirtatious banter, “I think I’ll be just fine, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t lie, the way he called you sweetheart made your heart twitch and your clit to pulsate. You took a step closer to him, looking deep into his eyes. You could hear Colby swallow hard, maybe he did really want you after all. You smirked as you spoke, “no Colby… I ain’t no one’s submissive.” You could hear Colby’s breath shake as his jaw fell slack.

You winked before walking away. As Colby snapped back to reality he quickly shouted after you, “you watch y/n! I’ll have you cracking in no time!”

You didn’t turn back but you couldn’t help but smile at his words as you continued on your path.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Throughout the following week, Colby truly tried his hardest. The flirting turned up to 100, the glances across the room, the carefully placed hands on your body as he moved past you. You must admit, you were close to cracking multiple times this week. But the truth was, you didn’t even know if you did want Colby in the same way. You’ve seen for yourself, how he could be with other girls, and you yourself usually slept around with no strings attached. But not with friends, especially Colby. He meant far too much to you, and you really weren’t willing to risk what you already have.

The next Saturday rolled around rather quickly, but this time, you were all invited to a party at the old trap house. Everyone was going to be there.

As you pulled up outside the house, Sam and Jake quickly jumped out from the backseats as you unbuckled your belt, “y/n, wait.” Colby said before you opened your door.

You turned to him quickly, “yeah?” Your excitement for this party having your mood so high right now.

“This is the last time I’m going to ask this…” Colby started as you sighed with a smile. “Please will you go in there as my date tonight?” You could see the plead in his eyes but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

You rolled your eyes with a smirk and a slight chuckle, “Colby, we’ve talked about this…”

“I know! But I know that…” Colby hands lifted up to move the hair out of your face, your breath catching in your throat, “you’re this close to cracking.” He said with a smirk.

You quickly snapped yourself out of his gaze. He was right, you were that close to cracking but you were terrified of it would it mean for you both, your friendship if things didn’t work out. “God Colby!” You laughed, “why can’t you just go in there and you know… be your normal self for me?” You said with puppy dog eyes. Colby has had enough of the game and the chase, he was making you crack tonight. Then it hit him, this was his opportunity. The thing that would really make you crack after everything he’s tried this week.

“Fine.” He said with a smile, “you have your wish, sweetheart. I will be my normal self.” Colby said with a mischievous look on his face.

“Thank you!” You said with a sigh, “now come on!” You laughed as you climbed out of the car.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The party was going great, the alcohol flowed nicely as you and your friends danced and socialised. You were very tipsy at this point, not quite drunk yet as you looked around for him. Colby. He was no where to be seen. You quickly found Tara who was taking shots with Jared in the kitchen. “Hey guys, have you seen Colby?” You asked as Tara excitedly spun around at the sound of your voice.

“Hey!” She smiled as she handed you a shot, “yes! He was right here…” Tara looked around confused as he suddenly seen Colby heading your way, “oh there he is!”

You turned around to see Colby walking over to you with the smuggest look on his face. “Oh hey y/n.” He said with a cheery tone.

“Hey! I was looking for you!” You shouted over the music with a smile.

Colby bit his lip as he began making a drink, “oh I’m sorry!” He said with a tone you no longer recognised, “I was just busy my new lady friend over there.” He leaned down to you and pointed over at the tall brunette girl, with a figure out of this world. You couldn’t help but feel your heart sink slightly. Colby noticed the look the on your face as you looked at her. “Isn’t she hot?” Colby said with that smug look back on his face.

‘What is he up to?’ You thought to yourself. And it wasn’t long before you figured it out. He was trying to make you jealous. You chuckled to yourself as you refused to let him win this way. You turned to face him. “Yeah she is, I guess I’ll leave you to it.” You said a smirk. Colby was taking back slightly, he thought he had you but I guess he needed to go harder.

“Thank you,” he said with a patronising tone, “I think I’m in for a very good night tonight.. don’t you?” He said as the corners of his mouth turned upwards.

You looked back at the girl who sat taking selfies on the sofa, waiting for Colby’s return. “Oh yeah,” you nodded, “make sure you get her STD results.” You said with a smug look on your face. Colby’s mouth dropped wide at your comment. This was getting to you, it was working, and Colby could see that. But before he could reply, you quickly downed the shot that was in your hand, throwing the cup to the side. “Later Colbs.” You smiled as he quickly hurried away from him.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The Evening was moving quickly as most of the party had began to disperse. You all sat around the living area, Colby and that girl directly on the other side of the room from you. You couldn’t help it, your teeth began to grind and your heart began to beat fast. He was really pushing every single one of your buttons. His eyes constantly glancing at you. The way his stare buried into you made your body rise in heat and the need to rip his clothes off more and more intense. But no. You are not giving in. That is until now. Colby looked at you once again as your eyes met his, he gave you a ‘last chance’ look as you rolled your eyes shaking your head.

Colby sighed slightly, this was it. This was his last chance and if what he does next doesn’t work, then maybe you really don’t want him. He looked back at the girl sitting close up beside him, who was still talking away. He took a deep breath before checking that you were looking, and once he felt your eyes on him, a mischievous smirk appeared on his face, “yeah that’s really great!” He said as he wasn’t listening to a word she said. He quickly leaned in, connecting their lips.

Your eyes fell wide as anger and jealously filled your entire body. You really didn’t realise just how badly affected you were by this until right now. Seeing him, his lips on another. You bit your tongue. Your jaw flexed as you quickly stood from your seat heading for the staircase. Colby pulled away from the kiss and looked in your direction. He saw the look on your face and guilt hit him like a truck. As you reached the stairs you stopped, looking back him one last time. You tilted your head signalling that you wanted him to follow you. He had practically fawned at your feet all week, and tonight he tortured you with the deadly sin jealously. Enough was enough.

You headed upstairs into the room that used to Colby’s many years ago. As you looked around the room and saw how different it looked suddenly you heard him enter, his presence making your body cover in goosebumps.

“Y/n…” he said softly as he walked up behind you. “Look, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-“ as he spoke he lifted his hand up to touch your back.

You spun around quickly, cutting him off as you stood on your tip toes connecting your lips, in a deep kiss. After a moment, Colby sunk into the surprised kiss as he grabbed your face with both hands, deepening the connection. Everything got heated. Quick. As you pulled away catching your breath as you spoke, “I’m so pissed at you right now.” You said as you leaned back in.

“Oh yeah…” Colby mumbled against your lips, lifting his arms to grab your jacket, quickly pulling it over your shoulders and down your arms.

“You’ve tortured me all night.” You spoke into the kiss as you also began to remove his clothes. Colby’s hands trailed all over your body as you walked him over to the bed. Just as the back of his legs hit the frame, you pulled away looking at the hungry look on Colby’s face. You quickly pushed his chest with force as he landed on the bed just left in his boxers. You looked down on his, so much frustration and passion fuelling you as you spoke, you voice dominant, “if we’re doing this… we’re doing this my way.” Colby eyes fell wide as he watched you climbed on top of him. He had been waiting a long time for this. He wasn’t use to not having control, but damn. The way you moved, the way you spoke, he was under your spell.

You connected your lips once again in another deep and passionate kiss. Colby pulled you closer as he thrusted his hips up into your pelvis. He groaned into the kiss and you could feel how desperate he was becoming as his bulge hardened against you. You leaned up, looking down at him as his hands gripped your hips. “So You did all this, because you want me?” You said with a smirk. Colby nodded his head as he bit his lip. You thought for a moment as you sat up on him, your core pressed down on his rock hard dick. You moved slightly earning a desperate wince from him, “would you have fucked that girl tonight? Be honest.” You asked in a demanding tone.

Colby took a deep breath, “yeah.” He said softly. But fuck, that turned you on even more.

You looked down on him as his heart pounded out his chest, the view of you sitting on top of him being the best he’s ever seen you. “What do you want Colby?”

Colby’s eyes looked up and down your body as he hands traced up to your waist, “you…” he said softly. “Fuck, I want you so fucking badly.” He said as he buckled his hips.

You licked your lips as you saw Colby swallow hard, you leaned down, your lips pressed against his ear, “oh yeah.” You placed a kiss just below his lobe.

Colby inhaled sharply as he nodded, “ye-yeah.” You kissed along his neck, grinding your hips down on him more intensely, “then beg…” you demanded your lips kissing and sucking down to his collar bone.

Colby gasped, he’s never begged before… he’s always had girls begging for him, he was completely out of his comfort zone, however, the way he felt about you, compared to no other. “P… please, y/n.” His voice shook as he spoke.

“Please what baby?” You mumbled against his skin.

“Fuck…” Colby breathed out as you began to move your hips quicker, “please ride me… I need to be inside you.”

The desperation in Colby’s voice made your clit ache and your entrance drip. You wanted to punish him for the way he’d been acting, but the truth was, you also needed him now. More than anything. You quickly jumped up off him, “boxers off. Now.” You demanded as he nodded, taking them off as quickly as he could. You slid your panties down your legs as you threw them to the side. “Come here.” You said as Colby sat up on the edge of the bed.

You quickly straddled his lap as you felt his dripping tip tease your soaking core. “Fuck, you are so beautiful.” Colby said as he reached his hands up to cup your face. You quickly wrapped one arm around his neck as the other held his dick in place as Colby gasped, feeling your hand around him. You slowly slid down on him, earning groans from the both of your mouths. You began to move up and down on him, as you both groaned out in unison. This was everything you’d both ever dreamed of, if not better. Maybe he was right, maybe you two should risk it all, because damn, so far… it was so fucking worth it. Your speed picked up as Colby kissed along your jaw and down your neck, his hands kneading your breasts as you bounced on top of him. “Fuck y/n… I’m so glad you crack.” Colby spoke between moans.

“Shut the fuck, and make me cum.” You spoke with a forceful tone. Colby loved this side of you. He never thought he would enjoy not having the control for once.

Your head flung back in pleasure as you bounced on his cock and your walls clenched around him, “fuck, yes mam.” Colby said excitedly as he quickly stood up flipping you both over. His dick still exactly where it needed to be.

He wasted no time and began pounding into you, both of you already so close to orgasm after the night you’ve had. “Fuck… Im not gonna last much longer baby.” Colby said as he groaned deeply, he breath shaking from each thrust.

“Don’t you fucking dare cum yet,” you demanded as your words made Colby melt and his dick twitch. You grabbed his hand as you moved it towards your clit, “touch me.” You gasped. Desperate to be sent flying over the edge.

Colby didn’t hesitate and as he pounded he rubbed your clit vigorously, your head flying back in pleasure as you moaned louder than ever. “Fuck, that’s it baby.” Colby said as he groaned, his thrusts becoming sloppier by the second as he tried his hardest not to cum.

“Fuck Colby!” You cried out as that familiar knot appeared in your stomach.

“Please baby, cum for me. I can’t hold it any longer.” He begged as moved quicker and deeper, his fingers rubbing quickly as he could.

“Fuckkkk.” You groaned, “now!” You cried out as your orgasm hit you fulled speed and a string of expletives left your mouth mixed with moans.

Colby dick twitched as he called out, “fuck y/n!” His hot cum filling you up as he groaned deeply. His thrusts slowing down as he rode out both of your highs. You both tried to catch your breath as he slowly pulled out of you, his cum following along. He quickly dropped himself, lying next to you on the bed. “Fuck…” you whispered with a smile from ear to ear.

You chuckled, “tell me about it.” Your heart pounded as heat radiated through your body.

Colby turned his head to look at you, “never thought I’d enjoy being a sub so much.”

You laughed looking at the ceiling, “after the shit you pulled tonight…” you turned to look at him, “you’re in for one hell of a night.” You said as you bit your lips.

Colby’s eyes fell wide with a mixture of anticipation and excitement. “Bring it on baby.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

AUTHORS NOTE: I hope you liked it! Remember requests are open! Get them in now! Xx

#sam and colby #smut #fanfiction #colby #colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock smut #propertyofyoutube #colby brock imagines #colbybrock #colby smut #colby x reader #colby brock one shot #colbybrocksmut

[easyaesthetics]

Imitates human behaviors to an uncanny degree, Akira remembers from the lab notes. Mimic skill on par with any natural predator that imitates another animal to lure in prey.

Scene from the amazing mermaid fic, I like to think I’m a good person by @relationshipcrimes (READ THE TAGS BEFORE BEGINNING)

#this fic has been driving me insane - every time I’ve seen my cat go near my bathtub for the last few days I’ve had a panic response LMAO #<- if u want to know why I did then read the fic but also check the tags bcuz it’s… FUCKED up #this little scene is near the start so it looks very cute and wholesome but um. it’s. not. #ANYWAY so sorry about the inaccurate backgrounds 😔 Akechi is in the containment tank at this point of the fic NOT the bathtub… #but unfortunately I can’t craft an entire military-grade fish tank from scratch bcuz I hv to study lol #which is a shame cuz I hv a really clear vision of it in my head lmao #anyway peep Akechi’s little braids and freckles heheheh. so sweet. so human…. (: #also tumblr butchered the quality so u can’t see his teeth very well in the first pic but they are. a little spiky. :))) #also I may or may not be making another sprite edit of Akechi & Akira at the END of the fic but those r gonna take a while bcuz [SPOILERS] #I like to think I’m a good person #persona #persona 5 #p5 #persona 5 royal #p5r #persona 5 fanfiction #goro akechi #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #shuake #akeshu #mine #anyway this fic slaps in a very haunting type of way so read it asap (if ur ok w the content warnings) #oh for the record the dots on his chest & shoulders aren’t freckles they’re scale texturing lol #I also messed w the portrait dimensions so u could see mermaid Akechi better… so I couldn’t standardise the sizing like usual 😭 #so if it looks a little wonky that’s why 🙇‍♀️😭 apologies

[wonder-worker]

A.J Pollard’s biography on Edward IV was so cringe lol (generic; minor but frustrating inaccuracies; intensely judgmental at times and oddly dismissive at others while never considering the broader context; entirely diminished and trivialized Elizabeth Woodville as both queen and wife of his main subject in the name of "defending" her; created a false dichotomy between Edward and Henry VII’s styles of ruling and lauded the latter at the former’s expense even though Henry literally followed Edward’s example for the very things Pollard was criticizing Edward for; had a downright nonsensical and thoroughly misleading conclusion about Edward’s legacy & Richard’s usurpation that was based entirely on hindsight, Pollard's own assumptions, and the complete downplaying Richard’s agency and actions to emphasize what Pollard wrongly and misleadingly claimed were Edward's so-called 'failings', etc, etc)

I wanted to buy his book on Henry V but after reading this shitshow and the synopsis of that book, im guessing it's going to be 10x worse, so...no thanks

#history media #this was written months ago im posting it to get it out of my drafts #it wasn't necessarily BAD. it was generic and readable. but it was very disappointing and misleading and its conclusion was just nonsense #listen I have no patience for the dumbfuck idea that edward somehow had the ultimate responsibility for his own son's deposition because #of his 'policies' during his reign. like I said it's based fully on hindsight and entirely devoid of actual context. it's bafflingly stupid #literally everyone expected Edward V to succeed his father and 'both hoped for and expected' (Croyland's own words) a successful reign #Edward V's deposition was richard and solely Richard's fault lol this should not be difficult to understand #the reason Richard's usurpation was possible in the first place was bcause everyone expected E5 to succeed and didn't expect Richard #do to what he did. nothing would have happened without his initiative and decisions. it had nothing to do with Edward's 'policies' #Edward's policies were fine. henry vii - who pollard vaunts to no end - literally *followed* them #and claiming that he failed to unite England under the Yorkist dynasty is just plain stupid #buddy if he truly failed at that then neither Richard III nor Henry VII would have thrones lol. both emphasized continuity with #him when aiming for the throne. like the whole point of 1483-85 was that it was a conflict WITHIN the 'Yorkist' dynasty #it was not an external threat against it. #'his legacy failed' his legacy didn't fail his brother destroyed it (while also presenting himself as his heir because logic what's logic?) #henry's victory was very much the triumph of his legacy (a claimant chosen by his supporters as the husband of his daughter) #like this is really not my interpretation it is literally what happened #i'm not trying to glorify e4 but his son did inherit the throne in a more advantageous circumstances than any other minor king of england #and frankly than most other adult kings. dumping blame on Edward's literal corpse rather than acknowledge Richard's agency is so tasteless #the problem isn't that edward made a mistake in trusting his brother. many other kings including Henry V also trusted theirs. #the problem is that his brother was willing to break that trust in a way that was unprecedented and broke all political norms of that age #ie: Richard's usurpation occurred because of Richard who re-ignited conflict to make himself king. please drill this into your head #also btw this illogical 'interpretation' is based entirely on Charles Ross' hatred and derision towards Elizabeth Woodville and her family #if you agree with this inteterpretation you agree with his vilification of them 🤷🏻‍♀️ #anyway if you want a better interpretation that's actually analytical and looks a relevant rather than a flawed retrospective perspective #i would recommend rosemary horrox's 'richard iii: a study of service' and david horspool's 'richard iii: a ruler and his reputation' #anyway one last time: STOP downplaying Richard's agency and actions. historians who do this are stupid and embarrassing. bye. #(i should really post horspool's glorious takedown of ross and Pollard huh? it was very entertaining to read)

[notjanine]

the post-grad unemployment blues have not been helping my annual summer depression, so my brain has been... not great. my lease is up in just a few days, but i can't move into a new apartment until i know where i'll be working. i'm having to put all my shit in storage until i can find something. it's been rough.* but i spent a few days at Books' this week and even though everything sucks, they did a lovely job cheering me up. when i got to theirs, they surprised me with a silly and refreshing beverage i'd previously mentioned in passing that i wanted to try** and this book that they picked up from work.*** then they took me to their campus so we could play board games on the massive group study tables.**** we got dinner at my favorite ethiopian place in the city. we cozied up in bed and double featured they cloned tyrone and the lighthouse (which they hadn't seen before). i finally got to an alamo drafthouse weird wednesday! we saw let the corpses tan,***** after a delightfully nasty late night diner breakfast. we played mario kart and i lost, terribly, but still had fun.

i also had an interview yesterday, for a job that sounds like a great fit for me.****** all of my interviews so far have been strange, for one reason or another, but this one may have been the strangest- because halfway through, the interviewer started pitching me a different position that sounds AMAZING.******* i'd be happy with either. i really hope this works out. i should be having a second interview next week.

i'm back at my apartment now and i have to be out by monday afternoon. i'm glad to be leaving this place, even though things are still so up in the air. and even though i haven't been my best lately, i'm glad to know that i am still loved.

#*i am about to be lower case h homeless but i am very lucky that i have enough support to make it through this without tremendous difficulty #however i might have to go back home which... i do not feel ready for. and i don't want to be away from Books for too long #**i'm in t*xas so there are hardcore topo chico heads and i had never had it before #i didn't care until a friend was talking about how much she hated it bc it was like drinking tv static #***i had already packed my books and only left one fiction book unpacked to read while i'm going thru this and this one is verrrry differen #which is good i need variety! #****everdell is like Our Game and the wee tables in my apt are only just big enough to play on (no room in Books' tiny studio to play it) #and Books also has the spirecrest expansion- but we hadn't gotten to play bc we didn't have the space! #it was so fun to actually do such a big game (it took maybe two hours and the entire six foot table lmao) #(i won but it was close! which usually happens when we play games we're well-matched but not too competitive so it's always a fun challenge #***** LOVED it #******similar to but more intense and challenging than my fav internship rotation. at a cool and pretty unique hospital in a great location #*******full time w benefits and travel. it sounds... SO good for my adhd. lots of novelty and adapting to new situations!

[orcelito]

genuinely tho me jumping right into reading volume 9 of trimax and then volume 10 (and then most of the rest of the manga) on the night before i had a presentation at 9:30 am (that was entirely not prepared) was literally one of the most unhinged decisions ive ever made

this is what a hyperfixation does to a person

#speculation nation #like that experience was transcendent. i will NEVER be repeating it again but it sure was something #crying 5 times in a night chugging my monster perusing the wolfwood tag tearfully as i listen to the same sad song on repeat for an hour #struggling to get myself to work on the presentation but continuously going back to the manga bc it was SOOO GOOOD #me being like 'im gonna need a few days to process and heal' after reading volume 10 but then after an hour just. starting reading more. #gettign only 2 hours of sleep bc i was like 'ok i need to recover from crying Five Times and then i will focus entirely on this' #literally what is wrong with me lmfao. this sure was something. #this was literally just last week. i can hardly believe it. #this happened on tuesday/wednesday. i spent wednesday recovering. then on thursday i was like 'ok time to write' #there was hardly ANY wait time before i jumped into my next writing project #bc i had the idea after volume 10 but waited until i finished the manga to see where would be the best time to implement it #& that shit with the plants was the PERFECT time. i knew as soon as it happened that That was what i was gonna use. #wrote chapter 1 within a day (while working) then chapter 2 within a day (while working) #then chapter 3 within 2 days (while working AND doing family stuff) #guys i havent had a proper day off of work in over a week bc i covered on tuesday and came in on wednesday and covered on sunday #uhm. sunday before yesterday. i think my last day off was actually uh. the thursday before? a week and a half ago. #and im not getting a day off until thursday. two whole goddamned weeks. i am having a fucking time for sure. #and what do you know that coincides with The Time. oh i dont think it was even thursday. when the fuck was my last day off #uhmmm. oh haha it was that tuesday. aka the 18th. i havent had a goddamned day off since the 18th. #head in my hands. i am losing my fucking mind. #literally unhinged. and it makes sooo much sense now lmfao.

[in-a-slanted-outhouse]

Me minding my own business:

The tiny voice of ten year old Aidan Gallagher in the back of my mind: 🎵we’re the rockstars!🎵

Me instinctively: 🎵Of chocolate bars!🎵

Me:

Me: Oh for fuck’s sake!!

#i reckon that like 99% of people reading this have no idea what the fuck i am currently talking about #i hope at least one other person has a heard the absolute fever dream that is that song #because it has been looping in my head all day #my cousins were obsessed with that video #and i googled it to show my friend #because its hilarious #and then i realised that id had it played to me so many times that i knew 3/4 of the lyrics #which means that because ive had it stuck in my head for the past three days since #ive basically been constantly muttering it under my breath the entire time #i cannot get it out of my brain #its not the worst song to have stuck in your head #but it gets annoying after a while #louie says shit #aidan gallagher #nrdd