#he is so determined to get those badges

[welcome-to-our-schoolhouse]

Just a heads up in case you get a bunch of boops from this blog or my main (Floofymarshmellow), Baldi kinda went boop crazy and took over the accounts to boop people 💀💀💀

#baldi ask blog #baldis basics #bbieal #welcome to the schoolhouse #wtts #baldi #he is so determined to get those badges #man is boop crazy

[luimagines]

Aren’t you married? (1200 Follower Raffle)

This time first place winner was @my-insanity-is-an-artform

They asked for Warrior in the sense that he didn’t fall into love, more so stumbled into it and didn’t realize it until much later.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Link had always considered himself a romantic but after the war he wasn’t sure if romance was in his future any time soon. It was disheartening to say the least but he was willing to let it go if it meant the safety of others (and his own, but he didn’t want to think about it).

When you had first met, it was… a convenience.

You stopped by to check on the soldier during and after the war. You never would have considered yourself a healer or a medic, but you certainly came to heal those wounded from battle. You brought supplies and food and sweets. Sugar was scarce during the war. The boys appreciated your efforts.

You would stop by the medical bay to check in, listen to them, let them talk and vent and rage and you listened. Link watched you flutter around him bed to bed, letting each man take a moment of your time to get something off of his chest no matter what it could have been.

When his turn came, he was speechless. 

Literally. Proxi wouldn’t let him get a single word in as she talked to you. He learned much about you then. You talked to the fairy for a long time. You talked about your life and your hobbies, your motivations and dreams. You seem relieved that you could have a more uplifting conversation after all the anger from the soldiers found in the med bay. Link thought it was endearing and listened to you but before he could so much as introduce his own name, it was time for you to go.

Unwilling to let that slip past you, you were determined to get Link to open his mouth and have an actual conversation with you while he was there. You came every week after that.

Sometimes Link would be getting treated like everyone else, other times he was there to support the wounded, not too dissimilar to what you were doing from the start. Just with less sweets.

Whenever he was fine, you stopped to chat with him, Proxi letting him get a word in at last. When he was injured it was another thing. You’d visit him with a disappointed look on your face that Link couldn’t help but shy away from. Proxi would talk over him here too.

Slowly, a good friend and comfortable friendship was born. After the war, he kept in contact with you through letters and the occasional house visit. He’d have to go to your house more often than not because it was hard for you to get into the castle but he didn’t mind. It was an excuse to get out more often than not as well.

You both grew comfortable with each other.

He felt safe with you. He felt as if he could tell you about everything. He saw your humble means of living. Your big heart and your care. You were inherently affectionate. Always hugging him and hanging off of his arms. Patting his head and throwing yourself on top of him. At first he was a little put off by it- but then he saw you do the same to literally anyone you felt remotely comfortable around.

He took it like a badge of honor.

You confided in him. You let him in. You called him out on his bullheaded stubbornness time and time again. You didn’t care about his title or his status. You just cared if he came back. He got bonus points if he came back uninjured.

But then portals started opening up again and the monsters were acting suspicious. He was called to investigate. Effective immediately. 

He had to tell you. But he was pressured to leave at once.  Link wrote it in a letter and hoped it wouldn’t be too disappointing that he couldn’t tell you in person. He explained everything he could in the letter with the short window he had to gather his things and head out.

He left.

The things he came in contact with were astonishing. The people he met. The things he saw.

He wrote to you as much as he could, not missing a single detail if he could help it.

The others in the group would tease him occasionally. “Who’re you writing to, Captain?” They’d say with wide smiles. “Who’s got you all soft eyed and smiley?”

“Someone special.” He’d say and leave it at that. 

Link spent some time thinking about  if he should be trying to find you something from this journey. Something special. Or maybe something simple enough that he could send it with his letters. He collected a few things that he thought you would like but there was always something off about them. They just didn’t seem to click in the ways he wanted them too.

Link was further teased over his picky nature in trying to find you a gift but it’s not his fault! He really wanted you to like it. And at the same time he hoped it would soften the blow of not being able to say goodbye to your face. The thought haunts him. Worse yet, he knows that it would haunt you. That’s why he’s so persistent in writing his letters.

You need to know that he’s ok.

There was a moment of peace where the group had found themselves in Link’s hometown. After the obligatory greetings to all of his old neighbors and friends, they make their way to the castle. Link is beside himself with anxiety. He knows that he should report to Zelda first after so much time spent away. It’s not as if he was writing to her after all. She knows next to nothing and would most likely like to meet the others as well.

They make it to the castle and this is where the boys in the group expect Link to break down and meet the person he’s kept secret for all this time. But Link knows better. You wouldn’t be here. You have no reason to be. The castle never gave you an easy time entering despite his assurances to the guards.

Zelda comes in and he salutes her as he should. They speak. He introduces the others and can see some of them with “knowing” smirks and smiles. He’s not entirely sure why they’re so sure it’s Zelda that he’s been worried about meeting.

“Link?”

Everyone turns their head to the sound of the voice.

Warrior perks up in an instant and runs to you. You don’t question it and run to him as well.

The sound of your collision is a solid thunk, nearly knocking the both of you off of your feet. Neither of you care. 

Link holds you tightly and cards his fingers through your hair. He’s missed this. He’s missed you something awful. He chuckles a little to himself, ignoring the way his eyes get a little wet. “Hey.”

You’re not so subtle with your tears. You pull back and smack his shoulder. “Jerk! You didn’t even say goodbye!”

He winces. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You just left me a letter!”

“I know. I didn’t have time-”

“Shut up!” You start crying. “I don’t want to hear it! Why didn’t you send Proxi to yell at me? I understand if you couldn’t come… but… but… You scared me…”

Link reaches out to you again and pulls you close. “I know. I’m sorry. Have you been getting my letters in the meantime?”

You nod and wipe your eyes, dropping your head defeatedly on his chest. “Idiot. I woke up one day and read that you could have been leaving forever. I was three seconds from following you. I stormed into the castle and Queen Zelda herself had to talk me down.”

Link kisses the top of your head, trying to ignore his desire to snort at your poor expense. “I’m sure she finally learned what I have to deal with on a daily basis.”

“Idiot.” You say lovingly.

“I got you something.” He says in a low voice, reaching into his pockets. “A few things actually. I wasn’t sure what you would like the most.”

A soft blush dusts itself across your cheek and you reach into the satchel around your hip. “I.. actually had something for you too. That’s why I came to the castle.” You wipe your tears away with an obnoxious sniffle. “I was going to ask Queen Zelda if I could talk to Lana about sending this to you.”

It’s some baked sweets, another letter and more supplies for his journey. Healing potions. Magic potions. Bandages. It’s what you always gave to the soldier when you visited the medical bay and then some. Familiarity tugs at his heart strings and he holds it close to his chest.

“...Thank you…”

“Are we ever going to be introduced?” Wild calls from the distance, one of the boys of the group. Link can feel himself pale slightly. In his ecstasy of seeing you again, he had completely forgotten they were there.

Link takes your hand protectively, stepping in a way that would hide you behind him somewhat. “No. As you were.”

Some of them laugh and Time, the oldest, steps forward. “Would it be so wrong to want to meet your beloved?”

Something in Link’s mind clicks. He’s tempted to let go of your hand but you’re still holding onto him. “....No?... They’re not… we’re not…”

You look up at him. “Are we? I thought so…”

Link pales further. “Wait. Hold on. What? Did you?”

The youngest of the group tilts his head in confusion. “I thought you were married?”

Link shakes his head. “No. I’m not married. What gave you that idea? I’ve been single this entire time…” He looks back at you and then back to the group to amend his statement. “I thought I was single this entire time.”

“Oh by Hylia, the Captain is an idiot!” Legend, his typical ranger, starts laughing so hard he nearly doubles over onto the floor. “I mean this isn’t exactly new information.”

“Shut up.” Link growls, holding your hand a little tighter. He turns around, putting his hands on your shoulders. “Did you seriously think we were together this entire time? I don’t recall that conversation whatsoever.”

You nod, growing sheepish. “Yes. I told you I liked you. You said you like me too. I thought that was that.”

Link stares at you for a moment longer, ignoring the way the group taunt him for his lack of perception. “Seriously?”

“Yup…” You bite your lip, blushing brightly. “Um… I’m sorry. I guess it’s my fault. I assumed and well-”

“Works for me.” Link kisses you, cutting you off before the words could even process in his mind. He cups your jaw and tilts your head to give him the perfect angle. The group behind him seem to only shout louder as they witness this glorious train wreck in front of them. Link doesn’t care in the slightest that he’s caused this kind of commotion. 

You’re taken by surprise and are left wide eyed and struck dumb when he pulls away. Link swallows harshly, running his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’ll do better by you… I promise.”

You nod, robotically. 

Link… realizes that was incredibly impulsive and slowly feels a wave of shame build up within him. He pulls you in close again to kiss your forehead before he can second guess it.

He had no idea where that came from or where he gathered the drive to do so. However, he knows that it felt right and perfect and that it was long overdue.

Link smiles at you, feeling the need to kiss you again. He drops his hand to your shoulders again and holds you gently. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here, since we’re not done, but we’ll be able to talk in the meantime, ok?”

You gulp and nod again. You bite your lip again as your blush darkens. “Perfect.”

#legend of zelda #link x reader #implied lu warrior #Hyrule Warriors #implied linked universe #linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #lu warrior #it's *barely* mentioned

[lovelybunnyxx]

The Joker and the Assassin ― Illumi Zoldyck & Hisoka Morow

TW: Tonpa being Tonpa. Vague description of arms being turned into flower petals.

A/N: A few people said they were interested in the concept, so here's the first chapter! I usually try to keep your personality pretty vague in my writings, but I had to give you a little bit of a distinct personality in this one. I hope you don't mind!

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

The exam site for the 287th Hunter's Exam is much...simpler than you had expected it to be. 

It's no secret how dangerous the Hunter's Exam is. Most people don't even manage to make it to the exam site, and those who do often don't make it out. So admittedly, when imagining what the exam site would look like, you had expected it to be lavish. But the bare room you just entered is the opposite of extravagant, with nothing but concrete floors and walls. It just reminds you of the shitty apartment you left behind in Yorknew City. But then again, you suppose that's the point.

"Here's your badge; make sure you don't lose it. You're examinee #332," a feminine voice forces you out of your thoughts. The woman standing behind a large desk at the entrance holds out a badge for you to grab, making you blink in surprise before nodding and taking it from her.

"Oh, okay..thank you," you say with a polite smile. The woman simply nods, focusing her attention on the next examinee checking in. You glance around, and you can't help but think that everyone else looks so..intimidating. It makes you feel out of place, but you force the feeling down, reminding yourself that you also proved that you were worthy of taking the Hunter's Exam. You grip the straps of your backpack harder and walk further into the room, finding a place to stand where nobody else is.

“Excuse me. You’re new here, right?” a man asks, approaching you with a smile. You glance at the badge on his shirt, seeing that it says 16. You nod, making his smile widen even more. "I thought so! It’s my 35th attempt, so I’ve gotten pretty good at remembering past participants,” the man explains.

You raise an eyebrow in surprise. That's...a lot. "You've failed that many times? You must be pretty determined to get your license."

“Yeah, sure am! If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. You could say that I’m an exam expert. I’m Tonpa, by the way.” The man says with a smile, extending his hand. You nod, introducing yourself and shaking his hand with a polite smile. "You know, it'll probably be a while until the exam starts. How about a juice to hold you over?” Tonpa offers, digging out a can from his bag and holding it out to you.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks," you say, taking the can with a friendly smile. Tonpa just grins, waving off your words.

"Oh, no problem at all. Just helping a newbie out," he chuckles, waving at you and walking over to a new group of people who just arrived. "Good luck with the exam." 

You open the can and are about to take a drink when a monotone voice speaks from behind you. "You shouldn't drink that." You look behind you, coming face-to-face with a twitching man with large pins in his face.

"I..shouldn't?" You ask in confusion. The man nods but gives no further explanation. You go to ask him why, when the sound of a man's scream quickly catches your attention.

You turn your head and see the screaming man's arms disintegrate into petals and he falls onto the floor. “My, how unusual. It seems this poor man’s arms have turned into flower petals,” a red-haired man muses with a sly grin. “Now you see them. Now you don’t. You should be more careful, and do apologize if you bump into someone," he reprimands mockingly.

You stare at him in disbelief as he then walks away from the man's fallen body as if it is nothing. You turn around to continue the conversation with the man with all of the large pins in his head, but you see that he has already walked off to talk with the red-haired man.

A sinking feeling in your gut tells you that this is only the beginning.

#hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #hisoka morow x reader #hisoka x reader #illumi x reader x hisoka #illumi x reader #illumi zoldyck x reader

[ceruleancattail]

despite being the number one riddle kisser I didn't actually take his hand Ithought about it for a long time but now my poor eepys been forgotten by my love for rids. riddle getting upset I choose epel or epel knowing I choose him just to leave him for riddle sounds really tastey.....mmmm horror...♡♡♡

Sentience presents:

Doll

Self-Aware Epel x reader

Tw: Yandere, mentions of blood and gore, Epel beats up people but is weirdly happy about it.

There was something deliciously satisfying about being chosen. Being wanted, by another. Epel knows that emotion especially well. After all, it was you who chose him, after all.

He remembers every detail.

The way the very tips of your fingers brush against his, intertwining, joining as one. The way the curve of your palm slotting ever so perfectly against his, your pulse thumping into his skin.

Your warmth pulsing into him, filling him with life.

You gave him a purpose, in this desolate stage of fools. Every day, Epel would wrestle with the others for a chance to greet you at Ramshackle’s door. An angelic face beaming at you, with knuckles bruised a patchwork of crimson and purple.

Epel never seemed too concerned about hiding his wounds. He opted instead to see them as badges of honour. The romanticised scars of a warrior fighting for his beloved.

It’s not like he could hide it, anyways. No matter how hard Epel scrubbed at his hands, that stench never seemed to leave. The metallic stench of blood clung to his hands, as if it was staining him. Marking him. Not that he minded.

After all, it’s for you.

It’s all for you.

So why are you with him?

Laughing with Riddle Rosehearts, giving him those bashful little smiles. Expressions that even Epel was never privy to. You cling onto Rosehearts all so sweetly, joy dancing merrily on your lips. There’s a skip in your step now, whenever you wander off to Heartsabyul on an “errand”.

Epel can’t help but notice the pink blooming on your cheeks whenever you see a certain rose-haired student. The way you gush all over Riddle whenever he greets you at the doorstep. All Epel can do is seethe in the corner, teeth gritting tight. Pressing down hard, until his jaw aches, the sourness of blood seeping onto his tongue.

You chose him.

Stretched out your arm for Epel, clutching his hand. He was the one who pulled you through the mirror. The one who let you into this world.

Now, you’re disposed of him.

As if he was a just a mere doll, toyed with by your loving hands. Yanked around by the strings pulled by your hand, led to believe that you truly loved him. He had fought for you, bleed for you, thrown himself into the heat of battle just to see you smile-

Trembling, those fingers of his unconsciously rolled into a fist. Nails digging in deep the flesh of his palm, scarlet crescents forming on it. Epel clenches his jaw, before casting one last determined look at the crumbling walls of Ramshackle dorm.

If ya’ so fond of red, he’ll give ya’ a show.

Epel will dye this entire shitty world crimson with his own two fists.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #sentience #self aware au #epel felmier #Epel felmier x reader #Epel #Epel x reader #protection potion ♦️

[creedslove]

DESERVE IT - PART FIVE

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You and Javier are sent to a conversation with Messina who determines you get relocated to another department, which means you are drifting away from Javier even more and that makes your relationship even more complicated

Warnings: a tiny little bit of fluff in the beginning, mentions of smut, angst, jealousy, disappointment, kind of stalker!javi

A/N: I wasn't sure if Javi's boss would be Carrillo or Messina because honestly I didn't pay attention to the plot of Narcos at all, because I was busy with a slut agent and a certain drug dealer (yes Wagner Moura I am talking about you), so I just picked Messina because I guess she would handle the situation better

• PART ONE

• PART TWO

• PART THREE

• PART FOUR

5k words

You sat on the chair looking away as Murphy handcuffed Carlos and made sure he wasn't going anywhere.

Some other cops came over to find out what was happening but you just wanted to disappear from that place and never come back.

You couldn't leave, you would have to formally declare a statement explaining your side of the situation as you'd been attacked by a co-worker. Technically, according to the DEA and the Embassy rules you hadn't done anything wrong. What the agents did when they were off duty was none of their business and it didn't matter to them if you had set up for Carlos or if he was just unlucky to be caught by his wife during one of his escapades.

With the war against Pablo Escobar getting worse each day, the organs couldn't care less if an agent was having an affair.

However, they did care about agents attacking each other. That was why Carlos was immediately suspended and had to hand in his badge and gun, which made you more relieved than you'd like to admit. Now, you'd gotten away with the situation but Javier was still unclear of what was going on. He'd immobilized the attacker and saved the day, with a lot more violence and strength then required, he held him at gunpoint in front of an entire office and that was something that didn't weigh in his favor.

You both would have to talk to Messina later that day, but all you wanted was to go home and lock yourself up. You wanted to shower, change clothes and pretend that never happened, you began feeling sick, nausea and shivers traveled through your body. You hated how your emotional state affected your physical health. It'd always been like that: at the smallest sign of emotional inconvenience, your body would take a toll on it.

You rubbed your arms in order to warm up, as the tip of your fingers were ice cold but as someone had read your mind, a leather jacket had been placed on top of your back. You looked up and found Javier trying to make you wear his jacket.

He had a cup in his hand and he lowered himself "have this Y/N… I asked Colleen to make you some tea, your stomach is probably upset" he said with those stupid brown warm eyes "Messina wants to see us soon, so you gotta be alright, cariño" he cupped your cheek gently and got up again so he could handle Carlos with Steve's help.

Fuck Javier.

Fuck Javier Peña.

How dare he after all he did to you, after all he made you go through, after breaking your heart just try and sweet talk you with this cheap act of pretending to care?

Yes, he had saved you, and you were thankful to him, you were not an ungrateful little bitch, but he could have done his job without crossing any lines. Now he was offering you tea and jackets as if he cared, as if he hadn't treated you like a total stranger for the past month, after being so cruel and humiliating you like you never expected him to do.

You were not gonna let him win you over that fast, but first things first, you had an appointment with Messina that could cost a lot to you, maybe not your job, but if she decided to punish you somehow you'd be screwed.

Murphy walked to you and was just as gentle as Javi was and for a moment you almost felt sorry for giving him the cold shoulder, so you thanked him for his reassuring words

"We'll go to Messina's in a while, I just need to go to the bathroom first" you informed them and disappeared into it, locking the door and throwing some water onto your face.

You sighed deeply, watching your own reflection as you shook your head in disbelief at the warmth you felt between your folds.

For a second you had hopes your period had come unannounced so you got into the bathroom stall and pulled your panties down.

To say you were wet was an understatement.

You were soaked.

You couldn't believe yourself, you felt a mix of anger and shame at the realization Javier's display of protectiveness and violence turned you on. The way he just went all feral towards Carlos, punching him, using all his strength against him just to calm down and cold bloody point a gun at him, for you, was enough to have you like a little puta for Javier.

Maybe Carlos was right on one thing: you were a slut, too bad you were it for the wrong man.

If none of that shit had gone on between the two of you, you'd certainly spend the night alternating between sitting on his cock and sitting on his face as a thank you.

You felt your clit twitching at the thought and immediately pulled yourself together, getting decent again and washing your face once more, blocking these kinds of thoughts as best as you could.

•••

You and Javier were placed in front of Messina for the past hour. The two of you giving your own accounts of what had happened. She never interrupted you and eventually took notes here and there. You'd downed the third glass of water by then, feeling nervous at the whole situation. It felt like you were sent to the principal's office and while Javier handled the situation smoothly throwing his charms at her here and there, you were obviously tense.

The woman analyzed the situation carefully, she knew the behavior on all parts were extremely inadequate and even scolded you for coming up with your little devious plan. What agents and employees of DEA did in their free time was their business, but they expected those activities to not interfere in the daily routine of the investigations. You swore you had to bite your tongue so you wouldn't ask her the same applied to Javier using the contributors' money to pay for hookers with the horrible excuse of informative intel.

But you decided it would be best if you didn't make things worse than they already were.

Messina, on the other hand, was a powerful woman who had to struggle a lot to accomplish things and work twice as hard just because she was a woman. So she definitely knew what you went through with Carlos and though she couldn't really take sides, deep down she was satisfied with the lesson he learned.

She scolded Javier some more for his reckless actions and reminded him he had better ways to handle the situation, but when he promised he wouldn't do it again, she finished the meeting.

"Uh, Y/N… before you go, I must tell you your request to be transferred to another country was denied" you nodded shyly and saw when Javier's neck head snapped at you, shocked to hear you'd asked for a transfer, he swallowed and licked his lips, as he couldn't get his eyes off you, listening carefully as his heart raced and dropped at his toes to know you'd asked to leave the country.

"With this war we have going on against the narcos we can't afford losing any members of the team. You do a very good job and your reports are essential for us" she explained "however, with this situation, you will be assigned to another department, the lower floor, you can work for a couple of months in the crime division where things aren't as stressful as your current job is… it is temporary, just so the gossip dies and you find a break from all the stress" you nodded silently accepting her decision. On one hand you were disappointed to know you weren't leaving Colombia any sooner, on the other hand, you were thankful things went way better than expected, of course it was a demotion but you wouldn't have to work directly with Javier anymore.

You excused yourself and left her room, going outside the building as you pretended you didn't hear Javier's voice calling your name.

You stood at the sidewalk waiting for a chance to cross the street and felt his grip on your wrist, pulling you to him and making you look at him.

"Goddamn it Y/N, not even today you can actually look at me and talk to me?" He asked frustrated and pinched the bridge of his nose, when all he got from you was an eye roll.

"So you were just gonna flee the country and not tell anyone? One day I'd wake up to you gone? Is it because of me?"

You sighed and looked at him, feeling a mix of exhaustion, sadness and impatience.

"I hate my job, Javier. I hate the people I work with, I hate Colombia. I know I sound horrible when I say this, but I don't care about Escobar or what he does, I just stopped caring about all this, I just stopped and asked myself what I was doing with my life, I'm not happy here, not anymore, I have nothing to hold me back, so what's the point in staying anyway?"

He shook his head, he had no idea you felt like that, of course he knew he had hurt you, pretty bad, but not to that extent. He felt a wave of guilt and regret.

"But what about us, cariño?"

You smiled sadly "there is no 'us' Javi. There never was. Listen, I'm very thankful for what you did today, you saved me, you risked your physical integrity and your job just to make sure I was safe, but we can't pretend things haven't happened between us" you explained to him.

"Cariño, listen I want to apologize…"

"I don't wanna hear your apologies Javier, you don't mean them, it doesn't change how you feel about me, so let's just get over this okay? Eventually I'll leave Colombia hopefully it will be sooner than later and all this will be a fun story to tell your friends or something" you shrugged.

Javi didn't let go of your wrist, he looked into your eyes, searching for some kind of breach he could find affection or softness but there was nothing.

"No, you can't leave, I'll mi-"

"If you miss me you can just call that hooker I met the other night, she looks a lot like me, you won't even notice the difference"

You turned your back to him and walked away, leaving Javier standing there, watching you slip away from him even further.

•••

Your first day in the crime division started out great just by the fact you didn't have to see Colleen's stupid face. You didn't know why you began hating the woman, she hadn't done anything to you, in fact she'd always been kind of nice and very polite. But then, a memory hit you: the day Javier complimented her nails and how every week after that she would show up with a different nail polish, in hopes he'd pay attention to her again. Every time he took a coffee break she would be there, lingering around like a ghost until she would find a pathetic excuse to go and talk to him.

Then she would laugh too hard at his dumb jokes and would place her hand on his bicep, pretending it was an innocent touch.

You groaned annoyed at the sudden memory and at the fact you were actually caring about that, when you were literally not seeing them again. Of course you could still run into them in the building, and mostly run into Javier in your apartment building, but you would have a break from them from 9 to 5 and that was a good enough reason to be happy.

You shook your head clearing your mind and telling yourself you were just anxious about working in a new division. Of course your tasks would be the same, but out go Escobar's files and files and in come other police occurrences such as thefts and physical aggressions, mostly coming from drunk guys who always got into fights with each other, or so you've told.

You were so distracted you didn't see a tall figure approaching you, you only felt that figure when you bumped into him and almost lost your balance thanks to your high heels you put on earlier in the morning trying to cause a good impression.

Of course you never hit the ground because the figure held by the waist, preventing you from falling.

"Lo siento, señorita" he said and helped you up.

And then you looked at the mysterious figure.

He was taller than you, strong and had beautiful brown eyes. Not like Javi's, Javier's eyes were from a deep brown, they made you think of chocolate, hot chocolate in a cold morning to be more specific, but this guy… his eyes were light brown, the kind of color that shifts according to the lights of the room, making them even greenish, and the eyelashes were pretty long for a man, giving him an expressive look.

You were lost in his eyes. You fell for the stranger's eyes right there and then and your heart raced when you noticed he had his hand on your waist.

"You must be Y/N, I'm agent Manuel Herrera, but you can call me Manu if you want" he gave you a smile and you smiled back.

Manu explained you he was the one who was supposed to welcome you in the division but he ran late after a new case came up.

You assured him it was fine and thanked him when he led you to your desk, helping you empty your box and organize your working material.

"You know, Y/N, news travels fast here and we all know what happened to Carlos and rumor has it you were responsible for it" he saw how you blushed and though you didn't deny or nor confirm it, he could tell rumor was true. "Well, I just want you to say we are all relieved he's not around anymore, he was an unpleasant guy and especially the ladies in the office really appreciated what you did… or what you didn't do" he winked at you and excused himself.

And just like that, you realized you had a crush on Manu.

It happened fast, but it was so refreshing to know you could move on, you could get interested in other guys. He was nice, smart, painfully handsome and for the first time since you arrived in Colombia you hadn't thought of Javier's whereabouts or felt a pang of jealousy to wonder if he would pick up a girl at a bar for the night or just call a brothel and have his fuck delivered like chinese food.

After the first week, Manu gathered enough courage to invite you for lunch, he assumed you would just hang out from the DEA people, but when he saw you were about to stay at your desk during your lunch break, he invited you out.

First, he decided to take you to a small restaurant down the street, the food was good, the price was reasonable but having his company was better.

Then, the next day, he took you to a small place that sold the best arepas you'd eaten in your whole life.

Turns out, Javier really liked Arepas and he decided to have some for lunch, but when he was about to step inside he saw you had another guy. He thought he'd seen the man before but he couldn't remember exactly when, he knew he was a cop, but he just hadn't paid attention, unlike you who had been clearly paying a lot of attention to him.

Javi felt his blood boiling at how beautiful you looked when you smiled at him and kept telling him whatever you were so passionately talking about. He hadn't seen you since the day at the Embassy, of course he'd caught glimpses of you leaving the building or arriving when he was still in his car. He'd heard you at home, dragging your furniture around for your monthly clean up, or when you put on some record and probably spent the evening singing along. The smell of your cooking almost every damn night taunting him but none of that was worse than when he caught just a whiff of your perfume in the hallway.

It was the worst part to him, because it reminded him you were still there, across the hall, a few meters away from him, and yet you were no longer in his life. As if you were just a memory, a ghost of his past, you were so out of reach it broke his heart.

And when he saw you smiling at that guy just like you used to smile at him, it gutted him.

He turned around before either of you could spot him and walked back to his car.

Javier couldn't believe that. You were really going on lunch dates with that guy? Sure he was attractive, he figured, but didn't you like him? Then why were you out with that guy?

It just didn't make sense to him, he didn't want to believe you'd actually move on from him. Javi hadn't really thought of the future, he knew the healthiest for you would actually move on, you deserved someone good for you, someone who could make you happy, who could treat you like you deserved being treated, someone that could give you a relationship where you loved and you were loved, where you could trust your partner, where you could have a family, get married, have kids, not someone who would screw things up in the first opportunity.

But it stung.

Javier had no idea it would sting that bad. Saying had always been easier than doing, and while he kept that protective speech over you, things were alright, but the moment the possibility of it becoming true was presented before his eyes, god, that hurt.

He was at a loss of actions, he didn't know what to do or what to say. The rest of the afternoon he spent off his game, with Murphy having to repeat himself over and over, Javi asking the same questions, dropping his pen, fuck, he even spilled his coffee once. Because all he could think of was you.

He decided to leave early and wait around until it was time for you to go home, feeling a pang in his chest when he spotted the guy, Manu, he soon afterwards learned, walking you home.

He hated that scene but he also couldn't look away, you seemed so happy, you talked and smiled like you hadn't done it for months, like you hadn't done since he screwed things up.

And for the next few days that was what his routine turned into.

Javier would wake up early and watch you go to work, then he would take the stairs to the lower floor when it was lunchtime and watch from afar as you and Manu went for lunch together, then when you would come back, usually with a popsicle or a lollipop in hands, a treat he always got you for dessert. On the weekends he would watch through the window as you went out, knowing you were out to meet him. It was a habit that was consuming him, it left a bitter taste in his mouth, it was like smoking a cigarette, no matter how harmful it was to him, he just couldn't stop.

He only convinced himself it was time to let go when he saw Manu kissing your lips in front of the apartment building. He wanted to yell, to drag you away from him, to make you understand you shouldn't be with that guy, you should be with him, but he couldn't. There was nothing he could do about it, he had lost you for good, he knew that, so he grabbed his wallet, his car keys and drove downtown. He parked in front of the brothel he knew so well and walked to the reception.

"Quiero a Mari y solamente a ella esta noche" he commanded, not wasting time in being polite or flirty. He wanted a service, and it wasn't cheap, so he wasn't going to pretend he was a nice guy. He wasn't one.

Mari showed up about fifteen minutes after, she had just washed her body and smiled at him with fiery eyes, walking to the man and kissing his lips.

There she was, the version of you he could actually have, all he had to do was pay for it. She resembled you, you both had a similar body type, similar hair and if he got intoxicated enough, he could close his eyes and pretend he had your body against his.

"Vamos cariño, voy a llamarte de Y/N hoy" he whispered into her ear, pretending it was your neck he kissed.

As they were both in the room, Javi sat on the bed and pulled her to his lap, kissing her and burying his face between her breasts.

But she didn't smell like you, she didn't feel like you, and no matter how hard he tried focusing and thinking of the night you'd kissed him, nothing happened.

Javi gasped and looked down ashamed and then back at the woman, who got off him and didn't say anything. He ran his hands through his hair as he groaned in sheer frustration, he just couldn't get hard.

She even tried to get him to action, but it wasn't happening, Javi was dragged each time to your kiss with Manu. How he cupped you cheek and kissed your lips at the same time you his tugged the hem of his shirt and pulled hid body closer to yours.

Javier left the brothel livid, he'd paid for the service he couldn't get and smoked a cigarette on the street, blaming it on you and that man for everything bad that was happening to him.

•••

On Monday you separated a couple of files that had been sent to the wrong department and got ready to take the elevator and go to upper floor. Ever since you started dating Manu, you felt more confident about yourself and seeing Javier wasn't necessarily a problem. You knew you'd made things pretty clear between the two of you and of course Colleen being the envious puta she was, spread the news you were seeing a coworker to everybody, it wouldn't surprise you if even Pablo's sicarios knew about your relationship.

It wasn't the first time documents had been misplaced and all you had to do was to leave them on Murphy's desk and return, so you wanted to get things over with.

You passed by Colleen without giving her the time of the day, she annoyed you in a way it was beyond words and you always preferred to think she didn't exist.

"Y/N!" She called a couple of times, making you stop and turn around "Steve and Javi aren't here, so just you know…" you gritted your teeth and faked a smile.

"Thank you for your great service Colleen" you said and kept walking.

Your threw the files on Murphy's desk and couldn't help but glance at Carlos' old desk. As you'd heard, apparently no one had been hired or promoted to take over his job, instead, all of his investigation and internal job was assigned to both Murphy and Peña.

There was a time you would've probably got a great part of it, so you would help them with the ridiculous amount of work coming in, but that time was gone and now you didn't have to take over anyone's jobs, just doing your own and worrying about leaving work in time to meet your handsome Manu.

However, you noticed some files and a big yellow envelope on his desk. You looked around and saw the department was almost completely empty as it was almost time for the end of the shift.

You didn't know exactly why you got so curious and let alone why you began fumbling through those documents that certainly didn't concern you. But the yellow envelope dragged your attention in a way you just felt attracted to it, as if your intuition was telling you to check it.

You battled with yourself whether you should open it or not.

Correction: you shouldn't open it and you knew it, but for whatever reason you were so curious about it and all you could read was 'CARLOS' written in capital letters, in red ink. You told yourself it would be fine, just some intel from whoever Carlos' informant was. Worst case scenario it would be something boring and you would just leave it on Steve's desk.

So you took another glance around the room to make sure no one was watching you and opened the envelope, gasping at the content inside.

After the stressful meeting with Messina, both Javi and Steve were in low spirits, Connie still hadn't returned and the American agent had no motivation or reason to be home early, so he invited Javier for a few drinks. However, Javi wasn't in the mood for that. He was tired, stressed and the days seemed to be dragging on. He felt lonely and the less thing that still brought him some pleasure was a delicate matter as he hadn't been able to get hard for any women.

Sure, he could still rub one off thinking of Y/N, but each time he tried doing it with a woman, it felt like he had some kind of block that wouldn't let him go further.

He dropped Steve off at the bar and drove home, shrugging at the idea Y/N was probably out with her boyfriend on a cute date he'd rather think, because it was way more comforting than picturing you sucking another man's cock.

He looked at your table and thought of knocking on it, maybe just to see you, hear your voice, but he immediately gave up.

He got his key but frowned when he noticed his door was unlocked, which was alarming as Javier was sure he'd locked the door before. He immediately got his gun, getting inside silently and walking around, checking every dark corner for threats or unpleasant surprises.

Javier went speechless to find you sitting on his couch. It took him a moment to process how the fuck you got inside, but then you remembered how you two had exchanged spair keys to your apartments and completely forgot about it.

He was about to question you, when he heard your sniffs and saw you were crying. He went completely soft and walked to you.

"Y/N" he whispered and knelt in front of you, concern flooding through his body as he cupped your cheek and stroke it so gently. He wiped your tears with his thumb and you only then realized how big his hands really were.

You shook your head and looked into his eyes, disappointment shattering your heart as you gathered the courage to speak.

"What happened, cariño? Talk to me? Was it your boyfriend? Did he hurt you? Carlos?" He asked as he stared at your with the biggest warmest brown eyes you'd ever seen.

You handed him the envelope and watched as Javi emptied it on his coffee table.

"Los Pepes, Javier?" You finally asked, as you both stared at pictures of him meeting up at a bar with one of the group's sicarios.

"Since when you've been a double agent, Javi? Is all this a lie? How long have you been lying to the DEA? To me?" You asked him, and the disappointment in your voice just ripped his heart apart. You thought he was a dirty cop, he shook his head, feeling despair spread through his body as he looked for words to explain to you the mess he got himself into.

But took his hand away from your face and wiped your tears.

"After everything that went on between us, I thought that at least you were a good cop, Javi… I thought at least you would keep safe, but once again, I see I'm wrong" you swallowed.

Javier couldn't handle you being that disappointed in him, it broke his heart and he just couldn't live with you hating him as a whole.

He ran to you, pressing you against the wall and using his own body to trap you. He looked at you and buried his face in the crook of you neck, taking in your intoxicating perfume, his nose ghosting against your skin before you could feel his lips on it.

He mumbled something under his breath but you couldn't actually understand, you tried using your arms to break free from his grip, but his kept yours in place.

He looked at you as he dragged his face over your cleavage, just in the curve of your breasts he buried his face again, spreading small kisses all over your skin, he pulled your blouse down exposing your cleavage a little more and kissed your breasts gently.

You were taken aback by his soft, gentle and desperate touch. Your body felt on fire but you needed to fight that urge of submitting to him.

"I-I'm not gonna tell anyone, Javier. I promise" your voice was weak but you finally pushed him away the moment he got distracted when he tasted your skin gently and panted.

"I'm not a dirty cop, Y/N. I'm not" he said looking just as broken and you realized that was what he was mumbling against your neck, against your breasts. Javier was lost, when you finally fled his apartment. He sat back on his couch, after pouring himself a scotch. He spent hours staring into the void. There was nothing he could do to win you back. He had lost everything, but most importantly, he'd lost you.

_____

A/N pt1: this last scene wasn't planned at all. I don't know what happened, I just started writing the end and it popped into my mind and I had to do it.

A/N pt2: yes, I named Javier's hooker after myself lmaof

A/N pt3: face claim for agent Manu Herrera is mexican actor Alfonso Herrera

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal imagine #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña imagine #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine

[transformers-synergize]

Poll results in y'all wanna hear me rant about some funky plane birds, so let goo

Starscream leader of the Decepticon air forces and the Elite Trine, a top ranking Decepticon equal to few, only out ranked by megatron himself. Armed with his null ray which has the ability to nullify any other cybertronian abilities for short periods of time and a super fast self repair system, he is a force to be reckoned with

Starscream from the day of his creation had an interest in the sciences and how the world worked. He was determined, smart, and knew what he wanted from life, and fought through the barriers that society put up trying to keep him in his function as a soldier. Through this, he ends up meeting a kind shuttle named Skyfire, who was going through a similar struggle. Through Starscreams' relentless determination and sly charm, He helped both of them break through Cybertronian society barriers and be able to study the sciences.

Things were going well for Starscream for a while, but It just took one mishap for him to lose everything. He and Skyfire were sent out to scout out a small organic planet to determine if it would be a viable colony world for producing energon. with Skyfire knowledge on organics and Starscream knowledge or energon production they were the perfect team for the job. While flying in the planet's lower atmosphere, Skyfire wanted to take a look at some interesting organics flying low right when a Sudden storm hit separating him from Starscream. Starscream spent countless cycles searching for him but never found him.

After returning to Cybertron, he was accused of murder but managed to get the charges dropped. Still, the title of murderer stuck to him and many others in the Scientific Community saw him now more than ever as just a violent war built. After the incident, he had no real other option but to leave Science and find work Elsewhere, which led him to the Cybertronian military, working the function he was designed for at the start. But as conflict grew across Cybertron, Starscream saw a chance with a new rising military group, the Decepticons, to rise back up in the world.

Starscream doesn't particularly care about megatron ideals or the values the Decepticons are fighting for. He has his own ideas in mind when he takes over the Decepticons.

At one point in Starscream's life, he'd fight the fact he was just a war built seeker, that he could be more than just the function he was built for. but now he uses it as a badge of honor. he is a soldier, the best soldier, the best fighter, the best flyers, and surely the best at war should lead the Decepticon army. he is a being built to kill and conquer, that is his function and that is what he will do.

In Starcreams mind, everyone leaves, so it's not worth getting close to anyone because it's just gonna lead to you getting your spark broken. Starscream both sees himself as better than others and unlovable with his only way of gaining the respect that he craves climbing the ranks till he is in charge and bots have to respect him. But even being a top-ranking Decepticon seems to earn him little the respect and adoration he desired. His equals often disregard him, those he out ranks often respect other high-ranking officers much more than him. And the only bot who out ranks him, leaving him with more dents than any kind of praise.

Now stranded on earth the same planet he lost skyfire on, with a small group of Decepticon, and Soundwave, one the few bots with a similar rank as him. He is put in the leadership position without Megatron's oversight he has desired for so long. The only problem is that he has to share that role with Soundwave, who has a very different idea on how things should be run. Soundwave wants to stay as close to megatrons' ideas and systems as possible until they can regain contact with Cybertron and take Megatron's orders again. While starcreams want to try something new and run the Decepticons his way and not stick to what he sees as megatrons' failures and idiotic rules.

Skywarp is not that clever, but he thinks he is an expert schemer like his superior Starscream. He is a suck up to higher ranking bots while disrespecting those of equal or lower rank, especially messing with smaller bots like minis targeting both the Decepticon minis and autobot minis alike. Skywarp is one to pick fights, but he only picks ones he knows he can win. He wants to rise the ranks and think putting others down and getting close to those higher up will increase his rank, thinking he has been successful with this in the past, not realizing that the main reason for his high-ranking position among the Decepticons is mostly due to his rare teleportation ability and not his skills or smarts. He thinks he's a good planner and just as smart as starscream, he is not, not even close, almost every plan he has come up with has failed and without the guidance of others he often ends up getting himself into stupid situations, with his often Short attention span making things even worse. Skywarp is very skilled in battle as long as he is following someone else's orders. He is all in for the Decepticons' cause, even if he doesn't fully know what it is. He often talks about how he can't wait for their inevitable victory and glory to follow.

Thundercracker is younger than the other two created during the war. All he's ever known is the Decepticon and the Decepticon army. He was able to rise up the ranks fast due to his powerful sonic boom ability and natural skill in combat. He tries to live up to the prefect idea of what a Decepticon should be but often fails. He secretly has his doubts about the Decepticons, but what other choice does he have. the Decepticon may be bad, but the Autobots are evil, So to him he's working for the lesser of two evils. He has interest outside of fighting or things that would make him a good seeker warrior and is actually quite artistic, but he keeps that to himself, not wanting to look weak. He really likes earth and all the little cool things it has but wouldn't admit it to anyone. hiding cool lil earth things he collects in his quarters, and connecting to human broadcasts to watch earth movies or listen to earth music.

He looks down on non flyers both in a literal sense and a figurative sense. He was taught from his first day of being online that since he was a flying bot and especially a seeker, that makes him better than other bots. especially standard grounders, and even if he can't fully believe in the Decepticons' cause, maybe he can believe in that. Some of the stuff they taught him has to be true, right? Right???

These three are all part of a tactical trine called the Elite Trine, less built on the fact they work well together or even like each other that much, but the fact all 3 have powerful abilities that in tandem makes them a terrifying force in combat. Since They are the elite trine, the face of the Decepticon air force, in front of others they try to keep up an air of professionalism. but when not under the public eye you can often find the three of them bickering like human children over the pettiest little things. Starscream tends to keep his distance from the other two, only working with them when he needs to, while it’s not uncommon to find Skywarp and Thundercracker spending time together outside of work. either just hanging out or skywarp dragging thundercracker into one of his stupid ideas.

no background version of art bellow

#starscream #thundercracker #skywarp #transformers #transformers synergize #tfs #art post #text post #redesign #Skywarp is a mini hater thundercracker is a grounder hater starscream is just a hater #I have arcs in mind for starscream and thundercracker #skywarp just gets to stay chaotic freak #maccadam

[oftenwantedafton]

Kismet - Dave Miller/William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 1

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - none for this chapter

Summary - When you keep crossing paths with the security guard who works the night shift at Freddy Fazbear’s, you think it’s a coincidence.

Dave Miller sees it as Kismet. Fate. Destiny.

Also available on AO3

The 24 hour self service laundromat is empty.

As it should be at 3am. You love coming here at this time, having the place to yourself. Just a short walk across the now deserted city street from your apartment. Laundry basket settled onto one of the washers marked Out of Service. Scooping a cup of powdered detergent onto your clothes tucked around the drum. Adjusting the settings. Now settled in one of the rows of seats that face the glass front of the building. Rifling through the pile of magazines on the table beside you. Pulling one free, flipping through it briefly and setting it back down. You’ve been through this one several times. They really needed to get some new reading material. You should bring a book next time.

The wall mounted television displays an infomercial. Some kitchen gadget that the host is singing the praises of. You slip your headphones on and hit play on the Discman. The sound of the CD spinning muffled from within its placement in your denim jacket. You reach for the button to advance the tracks. You know it by feel now, no longer needing to see the device, tracing the smooth rectangle that displays the track number and palpate two squares to the right. Depress it twice. It always seems like the best tracks are the third cut on any given album. Maybe it’s just coincidence.

You hear the motorcycle before you see it, the engine loud even competing with your headphones. Black sport bike, shiny in the streetlights. Pulling up to the curb outside the laundromat. A thin man riding it. Keys pulled from the ignition, long leg swung over. Canvas bag bungied to the back released. He shoves at the door to the entrance. Dumps the bag on the counter and removes his helmet. Everything he’s wearing the same shade as his ride outside. Even his hair is dark. A little mussed from being inside the helmet. Black leather gloves that cling tightly and don’t seem to want to part from his body. Tip of the material casing his middle finger clutched between white teeth, tugging until the glove loosens. Long fingers. Large hands. The zipper of his leather jacket pulled down. A couple of flashes of silver. Tie bar. Badge. A security guard uniform. Gloves shoved into the pocket of his jacket. Helmet lifted in one hand, laundry bag in the other. He turns and seems to notice you for the first time since he’d entered.

Your eyes dart away nervously, your hand moving to your pocket to turn the volume of your music down. You know you’ve been staring. In all the months you’ve been coming here you’ve never bumped into anyone at this hour. His skin is so pale. High cheekbones. Sharp nose. Full, pouty lips. Difficult to determine his age. Late thirties, early forties maybe. Certainly your senior. You try a smile and it’s not returned.

Now you hear the stranger fiddling with one of the machines behind you. Decide maybe it’s best to leaf through a magazine after all, just for the excuse of something else to look at and occupy you. He descends into one of the plastic chairs in the row that lines the front of the establishment. Across and diagonal from your own position, roughly. Helmet set on the seat beside him. One ankle coming to rest on the opposite knee. Selecting one of those Auto Trader magazines that’s always on hand. Seemingly immersed in its pages, but you aren’t fooled. You think he’s very, very aware of his surroundings. You can’t say precisely what it is about him, but there’s this aura. Dangerous. Intriguing.

You feel your cheeks growing warm and you turn the page of the magazine you’re holding so rapidly it tears right through the advertisement for hand lotion. Your eyes stare sightlessly. The next song that comes on isn’t your favorite but you refuse to let go of the magazine. Eyes flicking up to find him regarding you. A little twitch of lips that might have been a smile but there’s nothing friendly in that gesture of amusement. There are dark stains under his eyes that have the look of permanent fixtures. A chronic insomoniac like yourself. Who else does laundry in the middle of the night?

The hour passes slowly. You’re relieved when you hear the buzz signaling your load is finished. Wet clothing thrust back into the basket before you reach the dryer. Perfumed sheet added. Quarters thumbed into the slot. Another hour with the dark haired man.

A televangelist program begins airing. An infinitely worse selection than its predecessor. You swap out your CDs. An ancient copy of Woman’s Day now clutched in your grasp. A recipe for something using jello and ingredients that most certainly didn’t belong anywhere near gelatin. An advice column with someone lamenting their neglectful husband. An article about the merits of pressing and hanging curtains. God, was this what you had to look forward to in your future?

Boots drumming on linoleum that’s overdue to be mopped. The man’s turn to transfer his laundry to a dryer. Draped back in the chair across from you again. He doesn’t touch the stack of magazines this time, instead opting for removing something from his pants pocket. A knife. One of those Swiss Army type deals, you guess. The blade snapped open. Paring his nails. You’re struck again by how massive those palms are, the lengths of the fingers he's manicuring. Force yourself to study the same coupon advertisement that’s been spread open on your lap for the last five minutes. The music in your headphones is white noise now. You’re not even aware of what song is playing or who the artist is. Too focused on this strange scenario that’s unfolding.

The knife is tucked away. Sleeves of the leather jacket creaking slightly when the man folds his arms. Face turned to the television, a disapproving scowl apparent on his profile. Well, that was one thing you had in common, anyway.

The dryer buzzes. You’ve never moved so fast before, canvas sneakers squeaking as you lurch from your seat, tossing the magazine aside. Wrench open the door and drag your clothes back in the basket. Headphones hooked back around your neck. You push the glass front door open with your hip, grateful for the flood of fresh air that wafts over you, a welcome change from the warm, perfumed interior of the laundromat.

“Have a good night.”

You freeze, your eyes meeting the stranger’s. Pale and dark at the same time. You don’t even know how to describe them. His pupils shouldn’t be so wide in that brightly lit space. A narrow ring of iris that could be as transparent as worn sea glass in some shade between blue and clear.

A slight jerky movement of your head that was intended to be a nod. Then you finish pushing your way through the exit. Hurrying back across the street. Forget hitting the button for the crosswalk, forget checking for cars, of which there are actually starting to be a few of, early morning commuters just starting their day.

The feel of those eyes still clinging to your skin, stirring hairs, raising goosebumps on your arms, on your neck. A sensation that still lingers after dawn.

***

You’re just about ready to call it a night.

You’ve finished one last sweep through the cages, making sure there’s no lingering excrement, water and food bowls full. The latest intake, a litter of unwanted kittens, is having a final play session in the next room. You gather them up one by one, carefully shutting the door in between each visit. Five gray tabbies secured. Now just the tuxedo left, a feisty girl who seems a little braver than her siblings. You crack open the door and the small feline takes the opportunity to dart through it.

You curse, scrambling to catch it before it can reach the back door propped open for ventilation. The air conditioner has been broken for months, funds needed elsewhere.

Of course it finds that escape route. Easily. More profanity as you chase her. The completely wrong approach, but you’re desperate now. Return to grab a bag of dry food. Maybe the sound will entice it. Force yourself to slow your pace. Shaking the bag. Eyes darting over the parking lot. A tiny meow. There, on the side of the building. Heading towards the front.

Luckily the shelter isn’t on one of the main roads, but it’s still dangerous to be in the street. You’re doing your best to try to remain calm. Making little smooching noises with your lips, trying to summon the creature. It halts in the middle of the road, looking back at you. You stop and shake the bag of kibble. It’s definitely interested. You resume walking forward slowly. It begins washing its front paw, feigning indifference, waiting. You utter some more soothing noises, affectionate sounds, crouching down when you’ve nearly closed the distance. Dumping a few pieces of dry food on the pavement. The kitten takes a tentative sniff and then snatches a bite of the offering. Crunching loudly, a rumbling purr beginning. Almost within reach. Greedily following the messy trail between you. There. You scoop it up, clutching it against your chest, reaching for the bag you’ve set down.

The sudden sound of a motorcycle engine. The kitten’s claws dig painfully into you but you don’t let go. Everything happening in slow motion. Headlight blinding you. Trying to move out of the way. The rider swerving at the last moment. You and the kitten are safe. The engine choking and dying abruptly. Metal scraping asphalt.

Everything snapping back to real time. You feel the small animal in your arms struggling to be released, squirming, claws still unsheathed. The bike looks similar to the one that man in the laundromat had from the other night. No, not similar. The exact same. The lean figure on the ground instantly recognizeable. It was him.

He pushes himself to his feet, unfastening the strap of the visored helmet and wrenching it free. His eyes on you. Breathing a little heavily. You’re not exactly calm yourself. Your heart is hammering in your chest. So close. If he hadn’t moved…But then again, he’d been going way too fast. A flurry of emotions washing over you. You’re not sure which one to go with.

“Are you alright?”

You nod. “You?”

“Yeah, just scratched my hands up good, should have had my gloves on…what the hell were you doing in the middle of the road?” Concern now shifting to blame.

“I was trying to save this kitten. And you were the one speeding.”

“I wasn’t going that fast. You should have been paying more attention.”

“I wasn’t the one driving!”

He shakes his head, turning his attention to his bike. Some power in that wiry body of his when he rights it with what appears like little effort. The paint is scratched, but you can’t see any other significant damage.

“I have to get her inside.” Your charge has not ceased squirming the entire time you’ve been arguing.

“Yeah, fine, go.” He hits the kickstand, setting the motorcycle upright.

You retrieve the bag of food, hesitating to leave the man standing there. “You um…you can come in if you want. Wash up. I’ve got first aid supplies.”

He sets the helmet down on the seat and looks at you. Stern features softening a bit when he focuses on the miniature cat. He strokes its head and the feline instantly grows calmer. Index finger tucking under the tiny chin and you can feel and hear the animal purring again.

“Well you’re a natural. You have pets at home?” You turn, leading him to the rear entrance.

“Not exactly.”

You glance at him, trying to decipher what the heck that was supposed to mean, but he’s already found his way to the stainless steel sink, scrubbing at his hands. You make sure your escapee is secure before you go find some antiseptic solution and gauze and tape. He’s already finished washing and is now looking over the caged animals, crouching to see a lop eared rabbit munching on alfalfa.

“Yeah, that’s our odd one out right now. Mainly we just have cats. Sometimes ferrets, mice, hamsters, the odd chinchilla here and there. Dogs are next door. We get a lot more rabbits after Easter, once they grow up and the kids don’t want them anymore.” He nods, pushing a finger through the bars to scratch the twitching nose, slipping between the drooping ears. The bunny flops down, food forgotten. What was this guy, an animal whisperer or something?

”Let me see your hands.” He rises, that long body unfolding to tower next to yours, offering one palm up. You wince at the red gouges. Shallow, but a lot of them. “This is going to sting.”

“Go for it. I’ve had worse.” No reaction when you apply the solution. Letting it air dry before you apply gauze and tape. Repeat the process for the other hand.

“Okay, all patched up for now.”

You grab your denim jacket and make sure the back door is locked behind you. Walking beside the dark haired man, you realize you haven’t even learned his name yet, offering your own.

“Dave Miller.”

“You just getting off work? In a rush to go home?”

“Actually heading to it.”

“Late, huh? Is your boss a jerk? You gonna catch heat for being absent this long?”

The smirk is back. “I’ll manage.”

“Where do you work?”

“Freddy Fazbear’s.”

Oh. That place. The children’s party themed restaurant that had closed its doors after a number of children had gone missing. You’d been there a few times when you were younger. Watching the animatronics onstage. Eating pizza and playing in the arcade. Then your parents had stopped taking you after the incidents.

Dave seems to see the recognition on your features. “You were a patron at one time, right?”

You nod, folding your arms across your chest. “Yeah. Before the kids went missing. People say it’s haunted now. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to break in.”

“Oh, quite a few still do. That’s why I have the job, after all. Thieves and vagrants. Kids on a dare. You know.” He shrugs, lifting the helmet. “You ever been on a bike?”

“Never.”

“You want to go for ride? Just around the block.”

“What about work?”

“We won’t be long.” He holds the helmet out to you. “Better put that on.”

You haven’t even agreed to go but he seems certain you’ll accept anyway. You reach for the helmet uncertainly. “What about you? Don’t you have to wear one too?”

“No. Optional in the great state of Utah for anyone over the age of 21.”

You chew your bottom lip. “You’re not going to speed, are you?”

“No. Promise.” He mounts and backs the bike up slightly while you push the helmet down over your head. “Foot peg to help you climb up.” He nudges it with his heel. “You’re going to want to keep your feet there. A lot of heat is generated from the exhaust. Keep yourself in line with me when we make a turn.” You hoist yourself onto the pillion. The seat is very small and narrow, barely any padding to cushion you. “Hands around my waist. Lean close and hold tight.” You hesitate, gingerly embracing the security guard from behind. “Closer. Probably easier if you reach under the jacket.” You scooch forward and tuck your hands under the open leather coat, letting your hands link tightly around his waist. You’re willing to bet he’s smirking again even though you can’t see it. Why were you agreeing to this, exactly?

The engine rumbles to life and you feel the heat kissing your ankles. No show socks and canvas sneakers were less than ideal gear. “Ready? Let’s go.” The momentum still catches you off guard and you grind your teeth, clinging tightly to the man in front of you. If this was obeying the speed limit, you’d hate to feel what he had when he’d dragged across the asphalt. The stop sign is a short distance away. Your first turn feels awkward, but there’s almost a kind of pressure that guides you to maintain the correct position. Picking up speed gradually. You’re still squeezing probably more tightly than necessary. Warm through his shirt. Accelerating yet again. The protest dying when you realize it’s actually kind of fun. Exhilarating. Parting early summer evening air. Another slight dip as the next corner is rounded. Traffic light now. Car beside you blasting a rap song. You feel Dave leaning back against you. The end of his secured tie grazing your knuckles. The light turns green. Moving forward again.

It doesn’t take long to complete the circuit. Back in front of the shelter before you know it. You climb down, stumbling a bit but his arm braces you until you regain your footing on the ground. You unfasten the chin strap and hand the helmet back to Dave.

“You enjoyed it.” It’s more a statement than a question but you nod. You surprisingly had.

Your eyes fall to the hands on the helmet. A little blood seeping through the gauze. “Dave, your hands…”

“I’m fine.” He settles the headgear into place and flips the visor open. “You want to ride again some time? Longer?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“We’ve got to get you some proper gear, too.”

You nod. The visor slides back down. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.” He's out of sight before you even reach your car.

#william afton x you #william afton x reader #dave miller x you #dave miller x reader

[myfandomprompts]

Dubious Headlines | Aemond Short Story (Part 2/3)

Aemond x Reader Modern!AU [Part 1 - Part 3]

Synopsis: In a world where Dragon Incorporation is the most powerful firm in town, Rhaenyra Targaryen's last announcement sends you, a journalist, to interview the younger sons of the family. However, you did not ask for any of this.

“Please please please, I beg you Y/N.”

“Mathilda, let me remind you that you are the one who owes me one. Not the other way around!”

You put your last coins into the coffee machine, waiting for your beverage to be served, your friend begging next to you.

“I know I do but this is different! All that you have to do is come with me, sit your ass down, raise your hand every now and then and nothing more! You won’t even have to talk.”

You retrieved your cup before raising your eyes at your friend, arching a brow high, jaded. “This actually sounds worse Mathilda. You want me to… what, basically do nothing and watch while I have a ton of work waiting for me? Sorry but next time.”

You made your way to your desk again, determined to not yield to her pleading eyes. She stayed close behind.

“You know it’s more than that! Sam is usually the one to do it, he is on that other thing and you know we have more chances to get picked at press conferences if we are at least two! Come on, those Targaryens serve the best buffets, you will love it! Think of all the people you might meet for your future articles.”

You almost choked on your coffee when you heard the family name of the owners of Dragon Inc., blue and lilac eyes flashing into your mind, but you quickly recovered. “This is a press conference about the subdivision of Dragon Inc.? We are still covering that?” you asked rather eagerly, failing in staying cool in front of your colleague.

“Yes it is. I thought you would be interested since you were the one to get that exclusive interview. Great job by the way!” she winked.

Her attempts at buttering you up failed as you only responded with a cold and hard look, making her cheer smile disappear and be replaced by a grimace. It had been her fault if you had been forced to do that interview. Yes, the article had been a hit online, people a little too feral at the second son’s long due opinion, but you refused to do anything similar again, and you also refused to do other people’s jobs while they decided to bail out of work. Like Mathilda had.

“Tell you what,” she continued, resolute to have you on board, “You come with me, and I am your photographer for Sunday’s event.”

You raised a brow at her again. “You mean the fountain inauguration?”

“Yes yes whatever, I’m your gal.”

You bit the inside of your cheek in hesitation. “I don’t need a photographer.”

“Yeah right. I’ve seen your pictures. I assure you, your articles deserve better photos, and I am quite good at this. Please Y/N.”

She was right, of course, but you were still hesitant. But even if you would not admit it, you had made your decision the minute you heard the word “Targaryen”.

“Let it be clear between us: you still owe me. Big time.”

Mathilda’s face lit up at your words. “You won’t regret it! You are a life saver.”

“Yeah…” you sighed, looking at the unfinished article on your screen.

The corporate headquarters were in the city centre, and thankfully for you, Mathilda seemed to know her way around as you grabbed a press badge and headed in one of the alleys of chairs in the conference hall, taking a seat two rows away from the stage. The loud murmurs began to fade as the subjects of your presence entered the room, taking place on the table in front of mikes.

In your opinion, you thought press conferences to be rather dull, gladly letting your other colleagues attend to them as you preferred to be tasked with other assignments, but every so often you would be forced to attend. Now it was one of those times, except that you only had to raise your hand every now and then, and let Mathilda do what she knew best as you relaxed into your chair. What a blast.

Rhaenyra Targaryen, beautiful and classy looking, was in the middle of the table, towering over the room, next to her uncle Daemon and other people you assumed to be part of the board. Mathilda whispered some of their names into your ear as they took a seat, among them Otto Hightower or Larys Strong, but quickly you weren’t listening any more as you saw three people that needed no introduction enter.

Aegon Targaryen, sunglasses on top of his head and hair tied in a bun, was followed by his sister Helaena, shy in appearance, and finally Aemond, who took place at the far left end of the table, just in front of where your seat was.

You swallowed nervously as you watched his eye scan the entire room with intensity while you took care in making yourself as small as possible, hidden behind the reporter in front of you.

As Rhaenyra opened the conference and hands rose up in the hair, yours included, you witnessed how the one-eyed Targaryen quickly fell into polite boredom, looking sometimes at his phone as all of the questions seemed directed only to his eldest sister. Aegon even engaged in a conversation with his grandfather during one of her replies, by disrespectful intent or simple inattention, you did not know.

At one point you had lost yourself so much in the way Aemond’s fingers moved on the table that the sudden voice of Mathilda next to you, finally picked to ask her questions, pulled you out of your reveries and forced you to pay attention. Her question was unsurprisingly directed at Aegon, and the Targaryen was finally able to talk for the first time. You listened to his voice, which you found to be far less enticing than his brother’s and risked a glance at the man in question, who was now paying attention to what was said again.

You were not prepared for the chills that covered your body when you witnessed his gaze dart from Mathilda, surely looking for the journalist that had taken interest in this brother, and then locking on to you, eyes widening slightly at your sight. You quickly averted your gaze back to Aegon, feigning to be focused on his words as you tried to control your heartbeat, until the eldest son ended his speech and drew your eyes to his brother again, finding him still looking at you. If Aemond Targaryen had been bored moments before, he certainly was not any more.

Mathilda nudged your side to give you a satisfied smile that you returned to her, letting out the breath you did not know you were holding and sat back in your chair, more than happy that the reporter in front of you had moved just enough to hide the silver-haired man from your view.

Then the conference came to an end and you had got up and tried to drag Mathilda by the arm, eager to leave but she had told you that she needed to see a bunch of people first in order to write her article. You had no choice but to stay when someone called out to her in the crowded lobby.

“Miss Swanson!”

Mathilda turned on her heels to face Aegon, smiling and extending his hand to shake hers. “M. Targaryen. A pleasure as always,” she said, warmly returning his smile.

He returned the greetings and when formalities were exchanged, he turned to look at you. “This is my colleague, Miss L/N,” Mathilda introduced you. “She is the author of the latest Westerosi’s article about your firm. Well, for now,” she winked, pointing her finger at her pad.

“Pleased to meet you M.Targaryen,” you said, extending your hand to meet his.

“Ah yes, a fine work you have done. I know my brother can be quite difficult sometimes, but you were up to the task I believe.”

You thanked him with a grateful smile. Aegon Targaryen turned out to be more charming than you had imagined, his confident attitude giving him the true appearance of a leader, even if you did not completely agree with his view on his brother.

Mathilda then inquired about the next steps of Aegon’s plans for his branch among other things, and you quickly lost interest until a tall figure approached Aegon from behind.

“… for the next few weeks. In fact, my brother here-” Aegon said as he saw his brother appear at his side, tapping his back, “-will be the one to take care of it. He is far more knowledgable in this matter than me,” he laughed as Aemond smiled politely, taking his place inside the circle just before you.

“Let me guess. This is about the investment plan, correct?” he inquired, glancing at his brother with a side look.

“Right on the mark as always,” Aegon smiled again. “Lovely Mathilda here had done her homework and already knew of it. It seems that I just cannot hide anything from her.”

Aemond only hummed as his eye examined your friend, lowering his head in a silent greeting before speaking. “This is not supposed to be made public before another week. I would be grateful if you kept the conversation you just had with my brother out of the records please.”

His tone was polite, and his voice soft, and you wondered how this man, possessing such charisma had not made it to the top yet. Mathilda could only nod as Aegon gently chuckled.

“Sometimes I truly wonder if you should not rather be the head of communication, and myself the head of finance brother.”

“Mhh,” was Aemond’s only reply. You all thought he would speak again but he remained perfectly still, hands clasped behind his back and Mathilda resumed her conversation with Aegon again.

You were unable to listen to what they said, Aemond’s eye was once again on you, his lips slightly curved upwards. “I’m surprised to see you here, Miss L/N, I thought that this kind of event wasn’t falling into your usual area of expertise.”

“Oh, I am just Mathilda’s second on this. She needed a plus one," you managed to say, glad to not be the first to break the ice. Or rather the unbearable tension that hanged in the air between you.

“Mh. I thought as much. It seemed we are both doomed to be the shadow of someone today for I am ensuring that Aegon does not say anything he shouldn’t," he smiled, glancing at his sibling. “Although I have already failed, it seems.”

You scoffed at that, glancing briefly at your side where Mathilda and the other Targaryen were deep into conversation. You didn’t know they were that close.

“Did you have the chance to read the article I wrote, M. Targaryen?”

He was tempted to tell you to call him by his first name instead of being so formal, but as he considered it he decided that hearing his name on your lips would be a dangerous thing for his self-control, your voice speaking his last name already music to his ears.

Maybe later. “I did. I really enjoyed it. But I did not expect anything else from you.” he paused as he saw you blush a bit. “From someone from your firm, I mean.”

You weakly nodded, your throat becoming a little dry but at the same time two pairs of eyes landed on you and Aemond as their own conversation ended on their side. “Well, ladies, even though I would rather spend time with you than with all of these vultures, it would be unfair if we stayed to speak with only you instead of sharing our time with your peers. If you will excuse us…”

Aemond’s serious look had reappeared and both brothers were now walking toward another circle of journalists.

You inhaled sharply as you stared into Aemond’s back. “Can we go now? You have everything that you need?”

“Hey, don’t be so grumpy, you just met two of the most influential men in town!”

“Yeah right,” you scoffed as you both walked to the exit. “You still owe me one.”

It was cold for a Sunday morning, hands safely tucked into your coat as you walked toward the main plaza where a small crowd had already gathered. Officials from the city hall were standing next to the inaugural ribbon installed for the occasion, and you waved at the several familiar faces as you scanned the crowd to find your newly appointed photographer.

“Here you are! Way to be on time Y/N.”

“There was traffic from the main road to here. It was to be expected.”

Mathilda looked over your shoulder to where you just came from, acknowledging the mass of cars.

“I guess. Really thought it would be too cold for anyone to show up. Anyway, I took some pictures already,” she said as she put out her camera for you to see. “The mayor… the architect team… and oh look! How cute is this dog?”

You chuckled as you saw the picture of a dog stretching, his tiny tail in the air.

“Very cute! Did you get a picture of M. Hernet?” you asked, looking around for the man in question.

“Who?” your friend said, face confused.

You sighed in despair. “The deputy. The one in charge of the project, the most important man of the event?”

Her confused look deepened as you watched her face become slightly worried. You regretted your behaviour at once.

“Sorry just, don’t worry he will be the one to cut the ribbon anyway, you will get a better picture then.”

Mathilda nodded, reassured. Where she knew the business world, you knew the political world and culture, and as you made your way across the crowd to do your job, Mathilda continued her task at taking pictures admirably.

It took a whole hour of hand shaking and recorded conversations between officials and citizens before the inauguration began and for the deputy to take place behind the rostrum and speak. You only had to stand back and take notes for now, Mathilda next to you.

“… and I would like first to thank our most generous benefactor that made this fine homage to our beloved city possible, M. Aemond Targaryen from Dragon Incorporation who is here with us today…”

You felt blood rush into your ears as applause erupted around you, following the deputy’s gaze to land on the silver-haired man standing next to his assistant and the mayor, politely smiling as the people cheered him briefly. You felt Mathilda’s jaw drop next to you.

“Oh my god… did you know about this?”

You shook your head in response as you kept staring at him, wondering how you did not notice him before, his perfectly groomed hair glittering in the sun and a long green coat, making him ethereal.

“That’s a first. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him attend official stuff like that,” your friend commented, quite surprised yourself at his presence but deciding that for the moment, you had to focus on the speech above all else.

The deputy kept on with a rather long one, enumerating other benefactors and underlining the importance of city identity for what seemed like an eternity before the scissors were brought to him. Still focused but feeling the event near the end, you put away your pen and kept your notes safely into your hands as Mathilda had gone to find a higher point to find a better angle to take pictures.

You slowly found yourself in the back of the crowd as the deputy cut the ribbon, revealing the brand new fountain with the statue of Bran the Builder, an eminent historical figure of your town.

“That’s rather ugly, isn’t it?”

You jumped at the voice next to your ear, finding Aemond Targaryen standing next to you, eye examining the face of Bran the builder with an interested look. Damn he was tall.

“It’s not that bad,” you replied, narrowing your eyes at Bran’s disproportionate body, crooked nose and prominent moustache, trying to ignore how good the man at your side smelled.

“Don’t lie Miss L/N. I know you have finer tastes than this, I have read your articles on the latest art exhibition at the city gallery.”

You felt a jolt of pride as you realised that Aemond Targaryen had taken an interest in your other works, but you decided to play it humble.

“At least he is recognisable,” you replied, internally laughing. “You like art, M. Targaryen?”

“I do. In fact my mother and I had opened a gallery of our own to expose art that deserved better treatment in our opinion. You would love it, I think.”

You looked at him with enthusiasm, your interest definitely picked up as he looked very satisfied with himself.

“Is it open to the public? I have never heard of it.”

“Not yet, but I would be honoured if you were the first to review it and publish something about it. I know your opinion to be usually of value and on point."

“Then I will stop by,” you grinned, happy to be part of such an exclusive occasion. You knew his mother Alicent was a reputed art amateur with a very good eye for talented painters. No wonder his son would be as refined as her.

You both watched in comfortable silence as people kept on applauding at the structure, the mayor advancing to shake hands with the deputy and the architect’s team, big smiles on their faces. Then your journalist instinct kicked in again.

“I have to ask,” you began, “As a benefactor, was the contribution in the name of your firm or was it your own money?”

“If you wish to interview me again, we should find a less crowded place to do so Miss L/N.”

“It’s a simple question. It can be off the record if you want," you replied. “And you can call me Y/N.”

Aemond’s gaze scanned you with intensity, pausing as you unconsciously reached for your pen again, awaiting his response. “Very well, Y/N,” you felt something twitch in your stomach at that last word as he reported his eye on the statue. “On the record, I will say that our family takes great care in our city's legacy, since we are ourselves descending from the founders, so it was important to us that the company as a whole contributes to further establish its greatness.”

You stopped yourself from arguing over the veracity of his claim about his family being one of the founders and kept on.

“So you are only here as your family representative?”

“Correct,” his eye did not glance away from the fountain as he leaned in closer to you, his breath reaching your skin. “And, off the record, I have hated every moment of it until now.”

You could only stare at him as he stood back straight again, a faint smile on his lips, and you thought that your heart had stopped beating. He had to stop whatever he was doing, or else you would be unable to remember how to breathe properly.

“For what it’s worth,” you said, clearing your throat as you reported your gaze on the fountain as well. “I think you are doing a great job for someone who doesn’t like public appearances.”

You felt his eye pass on you briefly but said nothing before the mayor took the stand again, stealing your professional attention as you listened to him thanking subordinates and the citizens for their unfailing support. You felt your body relax as the people started to step closer in order to examine the fountain, letting your arms fall at your sides leisurely.

The next moment you felt your fingers touch something warm and quickly looked down to see Aemond’s hand inches away from yours. Your index then seemed to move on his own accord, reaching for the back of his hand that remained perfectly still, and in your trance state you could feel blood pump into your ears.

You completely lost yourself in the feeling of how soft his skin was for a moment, all things around you put on mute, until you saw his hand twitch, as if suddenly awaken by your touch. It made you realise what you were doing and pull out your hand in a sharp movement, apologising immediately as you met his perplexed look. What the hell were you doing?

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, I didn’t mean to-”

“Your hands are freezing,” he interrupted.

And yours are burning hot, you thought. It was incredible how warm his skin has been under your fingers, convinced that his touch would leave a mark on yours.

“Oh it’s nothing, I get cold hands really quickly so…”

He reached for your hand again and it took everything you had not to moan on the spot as he put it inside both of his palms, sending shivers up into your arm at his warmth. You could have stayed hours like this, yearning for more while he just stared at your palm, tracing small circles into the inside of your wrist. You both said nothing, his eye slightly hooded with something you did not recognise and after a while, it was his turn to realise what he was doing and gently let go of your hand, tucking his hands back safely into his coat pockets before further embarrassing himself. Your skin itched in frustration.

“You should drink something warm,” he stated, looking around him, his face becoming slightly red. “There is a c-”

“M. Targaryen!”

A man called Simon, the city hall press supervisor that you had known for many years now, was making his way through the crowd, and as he saw you next to Aemond, his eyes brightened when he recognised you. “Ah Y/N! Beautiful as always….” he said, shaking your hand as you briefly sensed Aemond tense slightly next to you. “I’m glad they sent you!”

“Who else?” you smiled back, happy for the distraction he granted you from Aemond’s burning touch. He turned to the man in question.

“M. Targaryen, would you be so kind as to join the mayor in order to take some pictures? It will only take a moment.”

You saw him bite his lip in frustration, clearly not attracted by the prospect of doing such a public act, but he ultimately obliged, following Simon to the front as you tried not to think of how his lower lip had slightly reddened at the movement.

“Okay, I think I have everything,” you heard Mathilda say as she reached you, eyes locked on the screen of her camera. “You’re gonna be happy with those.”

You only hummed in acknowledgment as you watched Aemond display a fake smile of contentment and shake hands amidst the camera flashes. You tried not to cringe too much when multiple women went to him in order to talk to him as the mayor released him.

“What are you staring at like that? You’re not even blinking.”

You detached your gaze from Aemond at once, not wishing for Mathilda to conclude anything before turning on your heels to leave.

“Nothing. I’ll head home and start writing. You’ll send me the picture soon, okay?”

Mathilda nodded as she watched you leave, clearly taken aback by your shift of mood.

Near the fountain, Aemond cursed the many people blocking his way as he saw you leave.

Part 3

@khaleesihavilliard @dollfaceyourfear @cecespizza01 @julczimozart @missusnora @bb-swift @cbfvip @depressedperson88 @nitimurinvetitumsposts @this-is-a-bad-idea @issshhh @virginslut08

#aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #fluff #aemond oneshot #hotd #aemond au #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond modern au #aemond modern #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond targaryen modern #modern!aemond #aemond x you

[vvxgs]

𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦 𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗜𝗡 ── CHARLES L.

°˖✧˚ SYNOPSIS — ❝Y/N understood quantum physics, but Charles Leclerc was a true mystery to her.❞

°˖✧˚ PAIRING — Y/N && Charles Leclerc.

°˖✧˚ WARNINGS — mentions of guns and drastic interrogation methods.

°˖✧˚ A/N — i might turn this into something (full fic maybe?), but for now, enjoy whatever the hell this au! is. please remember that english is not my first language! errors and weird senteces might appear.

The chilling silence hung in the air, freezing blood in their veins. The room was consumed by an eerie stillness, broken only by the muffled sound of a shooter's boot hitting the floor. It shattered the tangible silence, disrupted by uneven breaths tainted with nervousness. Nothing was disturbing the lethargy, driven by the desperate determination to succeed in the operation. Not even the urge to reach for the rifle slung over the shoulder. Clouds of smoke accompanied the men, dispersed by the retreating night and replaced by the pinkish hue of the rising sun on the horizon. The exhaled air left behind only a fleeting, foggy memory, devoid of any imagery.

"Clear.", came the slightly distorted voice, illuminated by the red glow of the dashboard. A makeshift map with blood-colored markers denoting soldiers from his unit, was displayed on a small screen, about a dozen inches in size. All eyes in the vehicle turned to him, a gaze he could feel even without acknowledging anyone. Without hesitation, he nodded, opening the side doors and pushing his hair away from his forehead.

"Get inside and make sure the target doesn't call for help.", he replied coolly, extending his leg out of the black van. Its makeshift ordinariness was merely a cover, a tiny detail in the grand scheme of the clandestine operation. He felt no scent of doubt, no impulse of weakness that could shake his unwavering confidence in his abilities. After all, infiltrating the enemy's capital to abduct a few local geniuses was not extraordinary, right?

Just a few swift, measured steps brought them to the emotionally charged house, practically a mansion, bestowed upon another nerd by the state in exchange for silence and obedience to the law. The thought of all these geniuses devoid of any values, selfishly envisioning a future tainted by the state's poison, filled him with pure disgust. The morality instilled in him by growing up among revolutionaries could never comprehend such behavior. This community was dying at the monarchy's behest, and those who could help traded their skills for a comfortable and prosperous life. They had indeed set an interesting price for human life.

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers, which bore no resemblance to the navy blue uniform adorned with badges. In a moment, he crossed the threshold of the building. It wasn't his first time intercepting a 'genius,' so the exclusivity failed to impress him. Besides, the Empire sent enough money to silence their power, balancing the environment he moved in. Soon, he heard the hurried footsteps of one of his subordinates, which turned out to be accompanied by others. Female, he noted after a while. The only thing that amused him was shooter's glove in the hostage's mouth.

He measured her with a stern look, leaning in and grimacing in displeasure.

"Year after year, they make less of an impression, Ms. Y/S.", he remarked, referring to the mediocrity of the woman . "I hope your mind isn't as dull as your face."

His forearms unconsciously crossed over his chest, while his index finger, supported by his elbow, rubbed the space between his brows, expressing his dissatisfaction with the current situation. It was so straightforward yet convoluted that his desire to be here vanished faster than ever before, if one didn't classify the obvious reluctance that emerged beforehand.

"Mr. Leclerc, you are in serious trouble. My father won't be pleased when he finds out about everything.", Y/N said.

"I'll blow your brains out and damage your organs so severely that no doctor will be able to help you before he does anything."

"I'd like to see you try to pull the trigger, Charles."

Y/N knew him too well. How could he shoot his first love? His beloved who, after breaking his heart, made his whole life feel like he was inhaling flowers that had no scent?

#charles leclerc #cl #charles #leclerc #charles leclerc ff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #formula racing #scuderia ferrari #ferrari

[smallhorse]

The Science of the Serum

Allow me, if you will, to put some science into the science fiction of the marvel cinematic universe.

the shield super soldier serum functions as an imperfect non sentient symbiote

it’s a unique blend of cells that requires a host to survive, when it enters into the system of the host, it immediately starts taking over and in a series of rapid cell multiplication and deletion, starts to make things better by replacing the old cells with the serum enhanced cells

however the cell replacement is imperfect in that it replaces healthy host cells fine, replaces its own cells very well, but damaged tissue is difficult for the serum to recognize and replace to optimum functionality

Steve had weak muscles but they were healthy muscles and therefore they were able to be enhanced by the serum, it took longer for his lungs to operate at full capacity but Steve had medication to assist the function of his normal lungs and so between the medication and the serum they were able to get those lungs up and running pretty quickly

Now what about damaged/imperfect cells that don’t heal on their own, even with the super soldier serum? This treatise posits that they remain the same in that the super soldier serum cannot determine how to fix these cells and so it settles with imitating the cells to the best of their enhanced abilities

Operating under this assumption, it can be inferred that the scars that Steve had pre-serum stayed with him after the serum was introduced into his system

Insert a transition sentence here!

Prior to the sleek vaccine system we know and love involving a singular needle depositing the vaccine intramuscularly, the vaccines, specifically the smallpox vaccine in this case, that were in use around the time when Steve was wandering around being all pre-serum and adorable were administered through scratches into the superficial layers of the skin created by multipronged lancets

As such, anyone who received the small pox vaccination were left with a distinctive scar on their arm

So obviously Steve was like what’s this something to make me less sick? Sign me the fuck up and of course he drags Bucky along and then a half hour later they’re walking out of the clinic with perfectly circular wounds on their left biceps

Of course they laugh: chicks dig scars! need me to kiss it better? I'll give you a lollipop if you don't cry this time. and these little scars that they share feel more like badges of honor, brotherhood, and love than they feel like representations of their inoculations

Now when Steve rescues Bucky from hydra imprisonment Bucky is obviously thrilled to see him but also he’s never seen Steve like this before, he finally has the physical presence that is attitude always needed and now it’s like he’s transformed. Bucky always knew Steve was brave but seeing him in battle is this cognitive dissonance that he can’t really get over for a while.

That is until one night they’re sleeping rough with the commandos camped out in the middle of nowhere and they get shoved into the same tent because dammit Steve snores and Bucky is the only one who can sleep through it and so they’re lying together, Bucky trying to find a way back to his friend that suddenly he doesn’t feel like he knows any more

Bucky is running his fingers over the new Steve just trying to familiarize himself with this new body when he feels that little nickel sized depression in Steve’s skin and by god it’s night out and he can’t see a damn thing but Bucky would know that scar anywhere in the world because he has the exact same one. And so their matching scars become almost a talisman to remind them of who they were and who they are to each other. 

Months go by and hydra is pleased with the success of their brain washing, they’ve almost got the asset convinced he’s all machine, there’s back slaps and congratulations all around but it had nothing to do with those shoddy scientists. Bucky wasn’t Bucky anymore when he reached for that little dimpled scar on his arm and felt only cold smooth metal. he wasn’t Steve’s Bucky anymore. he wasn’t Bucky anymore. He wasn’t anyone anymore. he was only ready to comply

#mcu #bucky barnes #steve rogers #headcanon #science fiction #fictional science #my source is that i made it the fuck up #stucky #steve bucky #steve x bucky #winter soldier #captain america

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: Reflection 2/2

First Part here or Ao3 here Summary: Gordon stares at himself. In part 2 - ...and Virgil watches Words: <1K ~*~*~

Reflection - part 2

Virgil’s got a pretty good sense of what goes on in his periphery. 

Granted, he doesn't immediately scan for entryways and nearest exits every time he enters a room the way his security-inclined siblings do. Kayo somehow manages to do it without an obvious deviation to her gaze, so it's not apparent at all that that's what's happening. But it is, and it speaks volumes to his sister's ability to multitask. 

But this doesn't preclude Virgil from being in tune with what's happening around him. He may not be able to sense danger from the way someone’s shoulders hunch to hide themselves when entering a building, but he does have a strong sense of observation when it comes to what he knows well, or what he wants to know well. Things like the island landscape he's painted a thousand times and more; the exact paint hues he needs to combine to create the sapphire in his baby brother's eyes; the number of wrinkles on Scott’s shirt to know if he actually slept that night; how jittery John is in his fingers incremental to his caffeine intake. 

Things like that. 

So when Gordon rotates his shoulders and eases back to sit on his heels, Virgil notices the movement. He doesn't say anything right away because the moment doesn't warrant it. The chore is a little too heavy for ribbing about laziness, which would be the appropriate response if it were any other type of rescue. As it is, they are both trying to forget about the losses made all too real by the lingering mud on Two’s windshield, caked on so firmly that the water jets only managed to release about two thirds of it. The rest was down to human persistence. 

Gordon's persistence. 

And his own. 

For him, it hurts when he lets himself think about it too much, which is why Virgil buries his ears in Beethoven’s 7th and lets the ache of the composer’s hearing loss envelop him instead while he listens for shifting key centers and tension tossed between instrumentation. The technical music analysis keeps his brain from wandering back to muddied faces, slack with breathlessness. Except for in the second movement, admittedly. Allegretto wasn’t just “less lively.” She was brutal, and his eyes may have blurred with sadness in the key of A-minor for just a moment while faces swam in the glass. 

It still helps. Somehow. The painful reminder of human experience.

So that’s him - his heartbeat so firmly tied to the environment around him: the shape of its sounds and the timbre of its sights. He carries on because he must. 

When it comes to Gordon, though? His brother is perseverance embodied - all the determination of an Olympian, resolve of a soldier, courage of a survivor, and tenacity of someone who gets up every morning balancing chronic injury with self-care and selflessness. His backbone might be physically lighter after surgery, but it’s equally fiercer.

Gordon’s been doing this work in silence, and Virgil wonders exactly what he’s been thinking while Virgil’s been drowning screams with violins. He knows it is possible for Gordon to detach, become the soldier he was trained to be. But it’s rare for their resident aquanaut to let Virgil witness it. Those experiences are something Gordon will channel with Scott, every now and again. 

But Virgil has seen it before - regretfully.  And this isn’t it. 

Virgil squeezes his eyes closed, and when he opens them Gordon’s pressed his fingertips to his mouth, a strange expression on his face while his eyes lock on the crisscrossing of scars near his hairline. Painful memory or badge of honor? Virgil wonders. A little of column A, a little of column B. From his experience, nothing was ever so black and white. 

He just hopes that when Gordon looks at himself in the mirror, when he’s not smiling for the rest of the world to see, he still notices the bravery and feels every iota of admiration marked with his name. Just as on more than one occasion, Scott has reminded Virgil of the same. It’s inherent in human nature to be harder on ourselves, to sometimes see ourselves so differently than those around us. It was never so obvious to Virgil as when he sketched the first draft of each of their portraits. Scott the commander, John the intelligent, Gordon the tenacious, Alan the boy genius. Himself? The supporting role. Scott had shaken his head and called him the heartbeat while Virgil flushed with embarrassment and confusion. Then, he asked Virgil to try again, until he was satisfied that Virgil’s self-portrait captured what the others saw in him. 

Shoulders straighter, wider in the frame. Eyes more confident, but softer, kinder. 

Eventually, Gordon catches him watching. It was bound to happen; they’ve worked together too long and traveled too far for them not to be in tune with the other. In barely a blink,  in front of him is the man he painted all those years ago, scars and all, but eyes carrying the blinding gleam and the joyful spirit of a man who would always get back up again and smile. 

He shifts his earphones, Beethoven barely audible as if through a fog, and Virgil asks genuinely if he’s ok. Gordon, true to form, plays it off with a joke and a smile, even though they both know it’s what they call “a moment.” They’ve had many over the years. This is just another, and it won’t be the last. 

This part isn’t keen observation; it’s intuition. Virgil just knows that this moment isn’t one he needs to press. Gordon’s ok. They both will be. 

So he grins back at him, gives Gordon the lighthearted response he knows he needs, and resets his music. 

Virgil takes a breath, emboldened by his brother’s endurance beside him.

And then he keeps going.

#gavii scribit #for the love of fishtank #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction

[deanstead]

Murder Next Door || Part 3

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: When one of Jay’s neighbours is found dead, both he and Y/N find themselves right smack in the middle of what could turn out to be a very dangerous situation.

Word Count: 3,321

Tags/Warnings: canon-typical mentions of murder, blood, idiots-in-love

A/N: A lot happens in this part but I decided not to drag it out and finish it up here! This was really meant to be a one-shot but I got carried away and wrote like 8k+ words so I just split it into three parts. Hope you guys have enjoyed this! Floored by the positive response to this!!! Hit me up and let me know what you think!

MINI SERIES MASTERLIST || JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

Part 2

The timing of everything was hell, especially since they were right smack in the middle of a murder case. A murder case that you found yourself in the middle of. But even so, this silver lining was kind of a bright silver lining, so much so that you could almost forget about the looming threat.

Jay smiled at you as he put on his jacket.

“If anything happens, you call me.” Jay nagged.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine, Jay.”

He opened his mouth again but you stopped him. “I won’t open the door for anyone but you, Will or Intelligence.”

Jay smiled. “Glad to know you were paying attention.”

You didn’t answer, but you couldn’t anyway as Jay gave you a kiss. “I’ll call.”

Jay left the house in a considerably better mood than all the other days put together, and with a newfound determination that he was gonna find this guy no matter what he had to do to smoke him out.

Jay didn't even have time to take off his jacket at the district before he and Hailey were on the move based off of the new information they had - they’d tracked the burner phones back down to the stores and although there were some CCTV images, they weren’t enough for facial recognition. Despite that, one of the store owners remembered that the guy who had come in to get one of the burner phones on the list had used a credit card for a different purchase.

Jay glanced at Hailey, rapping on the door.

“Hi, Ms. Austin? We're looking for your father, Freddie Austin? We’d like to talk to him.” Jay said, raising his badge that rested around his neck.

The young lady who opened the door frowned. “What’s this about?”

Hailey spoke this time, with a smile. “We found some charges on his credit card that we’d like to find out more about. We just need his help, and probably yours.”

The woman frowned but stepped back to let the both of them in, anyway.

Freddie Austin was seated in a wheelchair, looking like it would take a toll on him just to leave the house, much less visit different stores to buy several burner phones.

Jay didn't say anything, Hailey naturally taking lead in the questioning. “So we tracked the purchase of several burner phones to a credit card in your father’s name. Can you take a look at this?”

Hailey handed over the slip to Freddie’s daughter and her eyes moved swiftly over the page before she nodded. “Yeah, I was going to cancel it but then I ended up using it for his daily expenses, groceries and stuff you know? I pay the bills anyway, so it’s still an active card. But I don’t even know where to buy a burner phone, there must be some mistake.”

Jay leaned forward this time. “Is there anyone else who has access to his card?”

There was a pause before she answered. “Yes… I brought in a caretaker recently. You know, one of those nurses that help with the elderly? Mainly for the times that I have to be at work.”

Jay nodded. “We need his information.”

On the way back now.

You sent the message to Jay, slipping your phone back into your pocket and glancing up at the darkening sky.

The meeting wasn’t supposed to have taken this long. In other words, you’d completely underestimated the time it would take, completely forgetting your editor was going to be there.

You pulled your jacket around you, quickening your footsteps just so you could make it out of the cold. Based on Jay’s last text, you figured he’d probably be home before you.

The rustling of bushes behind you made you turn just a little.

You’d been feeling like you had eyes on you for the most part of the day but you’d chalked it down to being a little paranoid in the daytime. But you weren’t sure you wanted to take any chances especially since it was getting dark.

It was the sound of footsteps next, shuffling footsteps which matched your speed, no matter if you went faster or slowed down. Now, you really were a little freaked.

You could feel your heart pounding against your chest and you wouldn’t be surprised if people on the street could hear it. Not that there was anyone around to confirm your theory.

You took one last glance behind you, barely registering the man behind you, his face hidden from view with a black cap, a mask over the bottom half of his face, his hands stuffed inside his pockets.

You turned back around quickly, glancing up to zero in on Jay’s building, mentally running your mind through what would happen if you started running.

Then you heard him start moving quicker.

You had no more time to think.

Slinging your bag across your shoulders more securely, you took off at a run, pumping your legs as hard as you could while reaching into your coat pocket for your bag so you could speed dial Jay’s number.

Focus, Y/N.

You weren’t sure if your call had connected but you took the steps up to the main door twice at a time, your fingers fumbling across the keypad that unlocked the door, panic really setting in when there was a beep indicating you’d keyed in the wrong code.

“Fuck.” You muttered, hearing the footsteps behind you sound like they were catching up with you.

You didn’t waste time, keying in the numbers again, hearing the door finally unlock with a click. You made it through, kicking the door closed with your foot and taking off towards the staircase, barely hearing the lock click behind you.

Even that didn’t stop you, as you reminded yourself that the last time someone had come in dressed as a police officer, you hadn’t beeped anyone in. Maybe he really had the code to the building, so you weren’t going to take any chances.

You stumbled up the stairs, hearing someone behind you, although you no longer knew if you were imagining it but you were too afraid to take a look.

You winced as you tripped, the impact of your knee hitting the floor buzzing through you but you scrambled back up to your feet and moved. The door to Jay’s corridor was right there and you pushed your way through it, colliding straight into someone, yelping in surprise.

“Y/N?”

Not anyone, your someone.

“Jay… someone…”

“What…” Jay glanced up behind you, noticing just a shadow that turned tail.

“Hey!” Jay yelled.

He looked down at you. “Get in the apartment now.”

You didn’t have the strength to argue. As Jay headed for the staircase, following whoever had been right behind you, you made the last lap to Jay’s apartment, closing the door behind you before you finally sank to the ground.

Jay put in a call to Voight while he was still on the street, glancing up and down.

“He put someone on her. I’m going to kill him.” Jay growled into the phone.

Adam and Kim had brought Freddie Austin’s caretaker in and he’d been in the interrogation room when Jay had left to check in on you. Voight assured Jay that they were handling it before Jay hung up.

But when Jay got back upstairs and opened the door quietly, you were out of sight.

“Y/N?” Jay called, stepping further into his apartment.

He was greeted by a moment of silence before he heard your voice. “Jay?”

You crawled out from behind the kitchen counter and Jay exhaled in relief, nodding. “Yeah it’s just me. It’s okay.”

Finally feeling like you could breathe again, you got up unsteadily as Jay met you halfway, enveloping you into his arms.

As you felt his arms go around you, your knees gave way along with the dip in your adrenaline but Jay pressed you against him securely. “Alright, come here.” Jay whispered.

Jay led you gently to the couch, before you even realized you were already crying, the leftover adrenaline pouring out of you.

Jay didn’t say anything, just held you tightly against him, one hand protectively resting on the back of your neck.

When you felt all cried out, you angled your head upwards to look at Jay, who glanced down at you. Despite everything, you felt this warmth as you lay there, huddled into Jay’s side. “Sorry.” You whispered.

Jay’s eyebrows met in the middle again. “What are you apologizing for?”

You bit the inside of your cheek and he tapped your cheek. “Stop that.”

“What are you thinking?”

You smiled back at him. “Thank god I’m in love with my best friend and that he loves me too.”

Jay stroked your cheek with this thumb gently, giving you a soft smile in return.

That night, Jay took out some of the frozen lasagnas just so you didn’t have to hear anyone knock the door and barely left your side, even going so far as to tuck you in that night.

As he got up, you reached out impulsively, catching a few of his fingers.

Jay turned to look at you but you didn’t say anything.

“Shall I stay?” Jay asked quietly.

Your eyes flicked up to his. “Can you?”

Jay smiled. “Always.”

So he climbed into bed with you, fitting himself right behind you so that you’d drift off to sleep, encircled by his arms and his warmth.

“Alright, we got a name.” Adam said, just as Jay walked in.

Afraid to get charged for anything more than petty larceny, the caregiver had finally spilled to Adam and Kevin, revealing that he’d indeed been the one to purchase the burner phones but he’d passed them on to someone he knew.

Jay took the document from Adam, scanning it closely, as Kevin quickly typed.

“Jay, I think this is it.” Kevin said, angling his screen towards Jay so he could get a better look.

Arthur Marsh.

“There’s one dropped complaint of stalking, that’s why the DNA didn’t turn up anything in the system but…” Kevin glanced up at Voight, prompting Jay to turn to look at their Sergeant too.

“Get the LKA and gear up.”

Kevin glanced back at Jay, who nodded.

“Chicago PD!” Kevin yelled, raising the battering ram and hitting it against the door, as it flew open.

Jay headed in first, Hailey right behind him, as the rest moved through the house.

Shouts of “Clear!” resounded through the house one by one from each member of the team, before Kim's voice called for their attention.

“Guys! You need to see this.”

Jay frowned, looking around the empty house once more before he headed to one of the rooms towards the back where Kim was.

“What do you…” He trailed off as his eyes took in the dozens of photos of Abbie littered around - the walls, the table, even near his bed. He could even see the pattern of thought through the photos. Far-off photos from when he’d been admiring her from afar, more close-ups as he got braver and then a photo of her with a guy which ended in rage - her face had been scratched off.

“Jay.” Hailey called, her voice somber.

Jay glanced around, feeling his heart fall to his gut at the stack of photos of you.

“Son of a bitch.” Jay growled. “He’s going after Y/N.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Jay was out of there, getting into his truck alone and speeding off, not standing around to wait for anyone.

You were supposed to be halfway to Will’s by now but you’d gone a whole block away before you realized that you’d left the stuff for Will behind. You knew exactly where it was, which irritated you even more because you’d put it out to remind yourself and then walked right by it out of the apartment.

So you jogged up the remaining flight of stairs, diverting your mind from the memory of the night before and quickly entered Jay’s apartment.

It was a feeling that you had the moment you entered the apartment. Like something was off. But it was vague, so you just moved to reach over for the bag you’d left on the counter, lifting it and turning back towards the door.

You froze, as you saw him now, standing in front of you. In Jay’s apartment.

You felt the dread fill you, and you took a shaky step backwards. “Who…”

“I think you know.”

That voice sent chills across your body because you remembered it, like it was yesterday.

“Cold night, didn’t wanna have to dig around for my keys”

You stepped backwards, acutely aware it was taking you further into the apartment, but you didn't have much of a choice.

You could see his face clearly now as he stepped towards you, into the pool of moonlight that came in from the windows. Which could only mean he was here to do one thing.

You tightened your hold on the bag for just a second before you flung it at him, the weight of the cans of unopened beer and one bottle of wine hitting him with a thud and causing him to stagger backwards.

Taking that opportunity, you took off, thinking your best bet was to get to either yours or Jay’s room and lock it behind you.

You’d barely taken two steps when you felt him grab you, and you felt a sharp sting slice across your arm. You tried to sidestep him but he was faster, and stronger.

You felt strong hands grab you now, flinging your body against the wall to the side. The impact of your body hitting the wall winded you as you fell to the ground with a thud and you couldn’t catch your breath enough to move quicker.

He stepped up beside you. You smelt the leather off his shoes before you saw it, right in front of your face and you turned your face up to look at him, trying not to show fear.

“I always did like the feisty ones.” He said, dragging his words out, like he was confident he had all the time in the world.

He looked around, before he grabbed the one thing that was within reach that was heavy enough - a box that you knew for a fact was stuffed with case files.

You struggled to get up, the aches in your body protesting as he raised the box above you.

And, like he’d just appeared out of nowhere, Jay stepped in between the two of you, throwing a punch against the perp’s face. A punch that was hard enough to send him staggering, the box falling behind him and the case files scattering around the floor with a crash.

“Y/N, are you hurt?” Jay leaned over you now, his eyes scanning you.

“Jay…”

Jay let out a growl as he saw the slash across your upper arm but he had no more time as he heard the perp scrambling to his feet right behind him.

You saw the glint of silver in the perp's hand now as he charged towards Jay, the knife brandished in the air. You took a sharp inhale of breath, unable to even take your eyes off them now as Jay struggled with him in the middle of his apartment.

Marsh charged at Jay and Jay launched him over his shoulder and onto the ground with a crash, the knife clattering away as you heard the arrival of everyone else.

You exhaled, as you heard Hailey and Kevin arrest Marsh on the spot, your eyes falling on the knife that was just a few inches away from you, the knife that was stained with blood. Much more than there had been.

Jay was next to you in an instant, even though you heard an involuntary groan escape his lips.

“J…Jay?” Your eyes traveled down to the darkening red spot just off to the side of his abdomen, the knife had missed the police vest by inches.

Jay shook his head. “I’m okay. I’m okay, alright?” He reached down to squeeze your hand, but you could tell he was not alright, even before he sank lower to the ground, unable to stop another groan from escaping his lips, his breathing getting just slightly shallower.

“Jay!”

“Can I see him now?” You asked, looking up at Will.

Given the choice, you knew Will would be in the next treatment room checking on Jay as well. But Connor had thrown him out so he was stuck here with you.

Other than a slight concussion, some bruises and the gash across your arm, you were none the worse for wear. But that was only thanks to Jay.

“You heard Maggie. Jay’s fine, he doesn’t even need surgery, alright? Why don’t I go and…”

“Will Halstead.” You warned. “Don’t you dare leave me here.”

Will took one look at the expression on your face and sighed. He knew that there was nothing he could say that would convince you otherwise.

“Fine. But you are sitting in here.” Will pointed to the wheelchair.

You gave him a look.

“If Jay’s awake, I’m the one who is going to get his ass kicked, stab wound or no stab wound.” Will complained. “And now that you guys are dating, he’s going to kick me even harder.”

You pressed your lips together to hide a smile.

“Alright, come on.” Will said, rolling his eyes as he helped you into the wheelchair.

You were finally able to breathe better when you finally lay your eyes on Jay.

“Y/N.” Jay called, propping himself up on his elbow but wincing.

“Jay, slow.” You said gently, not even having the heart to be any harsher as you looked back at him.

Will glanced at his brother. “What did I tell you about being wheeled into the ED?”

Jay looked at Will. “Trust me, I’m about ready to jump out of here. I hate it here.”

You glanced at Will with a smile. “Fat chance. You got stabbed.” You reminded him.

“Will.” Jay pleaded, turning to his older brother.

Will glanced at the both of you, knowing better than to hang around. “I’ll talk to Connor.”

As Will excused himself, Jay glanced back at you. “How badly hurt are you?”

You shook your head. “None the worse for wear.” You assured him.

Jay looked unconvinced. “You’re sitting in a wheelchair.”

“Will said if I don’t walk in here on my own two feet, you’d kick his ass. I’m just being a good friend and saving his ass.” You answered.

Jay let out a chuckle, followed closely by a wince.

“Sorry.” Jay whispered, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You frowned. “What are you sorry for? You took a knife to the stomach because of me. I thought… I…” Your voice trembled a little.

Jay exhaled slowly before he reached for your hand. “I promised I wouldn’t let him touch you but…”

You just shook your head, pulling yourself up from the chair and perching yourself on his bed before you leaned in to give him a gentle hug, careful to avoid his wound. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

Jay pressed a kiss to your temple before he sat up.

“But we got him, Y/N. And you’ll be okay now.”

You sat closer, reaching out to stroke Jay’s face. “We. We’ll be okay now, Jay.”

Jay smiled. “I love you, Y/N.”

You smiled back at him. “I love you, J.”

Jay just leaned forward, despite the tug in the stitches in his side, and pressed his lips to yours. And with the knowledge that everything would indeed be okay, you smiled at his touch, even before his lips left yours.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

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Character taglists are open!

#resa.fics #murder next door fic #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead mini series #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfic #chicago pd #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x y/n

[jadelynlace]

Learning to Walk Again⎮Ink Drinker Deleted Scene⎮Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader]

Find more Ink Drinker here.

Author's Note: This takes place somewhere between Chapter Six, and Chapter Seven, and as someone who is only a provider for patients pre-hospital, this defienetly pushed me out of my comfort zone. (And was likely why it took my so long to write again.)

Content Warnings: Medical settings, Ivar being reluctant.

Word Count: 2600+ words

“Giving you love right now, Ivar, seems like a desperate act,”

It intoxicates him, lying in the cot; and having seen the abyss he’s falling towards up close, he still refuses. Floki sits on the other side of the room, painstakingly watching Ivar stare at the ceiling, at the world just beyond his window. He’s watching him waste away; pushing himself up on few occasions to readjust, but he refuses food. Refuses help. He just simply refuses.

“The only way I am leaving here, Ivar, is if you get up and escort me out,” Floki has told him, calmly. 

“Do you want my lunch?” Ivar asks dryly. Floki on shakes his head. “You’ve been here for days,” He tries.

“As have you,” Floki starts. “The only difference is, Helga has packed me food. You know how she gets,” 

“Go home to her,” Ivar grumbles.

“No,” Floki replies, and it’s firm. Reasonable. Steady—what Ivar needs right now. His eyes are still closed as he speaks, head resting back against the wall. Floki never sleeps, Ivar is sure of that. He only rests. 

“I don’t want to break up your marriage because of this. I’ve already lost Y/N,”

“You fight for what you want,” Floki simply says. “And, if you would look at any other place than outside your window, you bastard, you’d notice, she’s been in the hall,” Ivar turns his head quickly at that. But he knows, Floki never lies. 

You’re there, propped up in one of the most uncomfortable chairs you’ve ever sat in, your sweatshirt bunched into a makeshift pillow as you scroll on your phone. You’re still in your uniform, and you’ll probably stay in it until your next shift. There’s a single water bottle on the ground, and as Ivar watches you, a nurse stops at your side. She offers you something to eat and you accept it. Because she knows you’ve been here for days, too.

“Thank you, Thora,” You say softly and your throat is dry. Dry from misuse, dry from crying. Dry.

“You’re alone today,” She remarks, and takes the set next to you. Your eyes watch her, trailing from your phone to her face before dancing down to her ID badge, clipped to her scrubs by a cartoon pizza slice, complete with a smile. 

“Yeah, his brother wanted to get some sleep in a place that won’t cause him irreversible spine damage,” You hum, watching Thora split her sandwich into two pieces.

“You might want to try that too,” Thora says softly, handing you your half. “They seems really close,”

“They’re twins,” You state. “They were made that way,” You snort. “We uh, we worked his crash together,” You then tell her.

“Wow,” Thora answers. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like,”

“I couldn’t tell you, either, I haven’t—haven’t processed it yet,”

“You will in time,” She tells you. “If you don’t die from exhaustion, or spine damage first,” She teases you, and you snort.

“I didn’t get to be where I am without being determined,” You answer. “Chief didn’t raise no quitter,” And that phrase alone makes you smile. 

For a moment you wish he was here; everything makes sense with him around. Your drawing he handed you is still in your pocket, and every so often you find your fingers gravitating towards it. Like a toddler and their favorite blanket. It makes sense. Just like everything makes sense in the bay at the station. You can’t remember how many times you’ve sat on those floors, even prior to your career, just to find some piece of mind. That warmth of nostalgia from the cool touch to the concrete; and the smell—one you’ve never found anywhere else. How your home smells, only to you. A scent you could notice any moment, but it would only make sense in that one place. You’d wheel Ivar there in a heartbeat if you thought it would have the same affect on him.

“If he doesn’t start eating soon, we’ll have to place him on a feeding tube,” Thora suddenly admits. 

“I know,” You say. 

Ivar watches you converse, not able to know what you’re saying but with the expression on your face, he learns it’s nothing pleasant. You’re paler now than he remembers, there’s no color to your cheeks, you’re gaunt, you’re simple existing as he is. 

That’s the moment Ivar realizes it. If this kills him, it’s going to kill you, too. 

It’ll kill Floki.

It’ll kill Hvitserk.

It’ll kill Aiden.

It’ll kill his mother.

It’ll kill you. It’ll kill the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with. 

Inhaling suddenly, a panic seeps into Ivar—as if something has grabbed him, holding him under water and his screams only bubble to the surface. Sitting up quickly he grips his bed sheets, the monitor to his side beeps rapidly to announce the anxiety and it draws Floki’s attention. It draws Thora’s attention, and with a bite of turkey in your mouth, you look up at the man, with panic etched into his features, he is staring back at you.

“Ivar?” Floki says, and even you notice that this is concerning to him. “Ivar? What’s going on?”

“I—,” And out of all the languages he can speak, none of them want to trickle off his tongue. Thora stands in anticipation and you only put your hand to slow her down.

“Leave him be,” You finally say after swallowing your bite. “Floki’s the best thing for him right now,”

“Not if he’s having a serious problem,” Thora answers, looking down at you.

“He’s not,” You reply. “I know that look,” You tell her.

“I can’t kill her,” Ivar finally says.

“Ivar…?” Floki starts.

“Y/N,” Ivar replies, as if the answer is as clear for Floki as it is for him. “I can’t kill Y/N,”

“You think this is killing her?” Floki asks. “Tell me more,” Ivar swallows thickly.

“She’s…she’s pale,” Ivar replies. Floki negates to turn to look at you, waiting for what more is to come. Ivar takes his hands to scrub the tears out of his eyes before speaking again:

“She’s in the same uniform,”

“She wears and identical uniform, Ivar. Every day,”

“No—no she washes it after work. Right after work—she’s through the door and…and it’s in the wash before anything else. I always—I always kiss her shoulder when she’s done and she said—she wants a tattoo there now because it’s so reparative. It drives me up the fucking wall too because sometimes…she just washes it alone, or I’ve done my laundry already and then she’s there, taking off her uniform,”

You watch Ivar. You watch him explain something to Floki with the intensity through his features, a passion to his words and you wonder what on earth he could be talking about.  

“The color is always brighter after the wash, and it’s always dim when she comes home from work. Like…like she’s so excited to go into the job she loves, and even though she’s drained when she comes home, she does it all again because that’s who she is,”

“Ivar,” Floki tries. 

“And it’s so dim right now, Floki—her uniform, her face, everything is so fucking dim because of me. And this is killing me, because I can hardly move and—and I keep trying to tell my legs to move but they’re ignoring me. And if this kills me, it’s going to kill her. Where will she find that color if I die, Floki?” Ivar finally cries.

Floki’s eyes water, inhaling deeply as he watches the little boy he remembers cry in front of him.

“Ivar,” Floki says. “Let’s stand up, and we’ll go from there,” 

And Ivar nods. Without even thinking about the sentence, he nods every so slightly that Floki almost misses it. 

Stunned for a moment, Floki swallows, mentally patting himself on the shoulder as he straightens. He puts a hand on Ivar’s shoulder, squeezing for a second before he abandons his bag on the chair and turns to the hallway. Opening the door and cleaning his throat he looks at both you, and Thora.

“Think you can help him stand, Y/N?” Floki asks. In all honesty, you’re quite positive you’re imagining it. “Y/N?” Floki asks again.

“Help him…help him stand?” You ask.

“Did I stutter?” Floki tries. You inhale, standing as Thora follows you. But before she can follow you into the room, Floki cuts off her path. 

“Give them a second,” He winks. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” Floki asks her.

“Hi,” Ivar says to you softly.

“Hi, Ivar,” You say back to him as he finally looks up at you. “Oh, Ivar…” You trail off, taking the pad of your thumb to wipe the tear that spills. He melts into your hand at an instance, leaning against your palm as if you’re taking away every ounce of discomfort for him.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Ivar mumbles.

“What?” You ask.

“I don’t want to kill you too,” He repeats, as if it makes sense to you, like it does to him. 

“You won’t,” You try.

“If I don’t get better, I will,” He tells you and that’s when it hits you, too. 

“Then lets stand up, just you and me, yeah?” You try.

“Are you allowed to do that?” Ivar asks, stalling.

“I am a medical professional,” You say. “And they can sue me if they think otherwise. I’ll move the blanket, you don’t have to look, alright?” You tell him and Ivar nods. 

It aches Ivar as he feels you pull the sheet from his leg, relishing in the fact that he can feel it; he can feel the cold air against his skin, but he won’t look. You eyes scan his legs, still wrapped in dressings, less stitches than you remember and you gently place you hand on his thigh.

“You feel that?” You ask and Ivar nods. Your mind takes over, as if he is a patient in your care and you asses is pedal pulse, two fingers on the top of his foot and it’s strong. “Can you feel that?” You whisper and Ivar nods, still looking directly at you. Only at you. You take your knuckle against the ball of his foot, tracing from heel to toe lightly, and back down again. “How about that?” And he nods, a glimmer of a smirk to his lips at how it tickles him. “Can you move your toes for me?” You then ask him, and Ivar does—eyes still not leaving yours. He watches how your eyes water, and you recall asking him similar questions in the heat of the crash’s aftermath and how he slurred a response. 

“Can you roll your ankles at all?” You whisper. And you watch them rotate, just as you ask. You take you thumb to his nail bed, pressing against his toe to watch the capillary refill in almost perfect time. And the whole time, Ivar’s eye never leave your face. “Alright,” You squeak. “I’ll help you swing them slowly,”

“Wait,” Ivar says suddenly. “Come here,” And you obey. His hands stretch towards you, taking up your cheeks as he brushes the hair from your face, and wiping under your eyes. He pulls you in then, his lips just brushing yours and you can’t help the small cry that escapes, that’s caught between the two of you before it’s swallowed with the kiss.

“I love you,” Ivar whispers.

“I love you, too,”

“Now I’m ready,” Ivar tells you.

Your hands are nearly hot coals against his legs, as you try to be as gentle as possible with your heart rate nearly pounding in your ears. You have half a mind to stop, to pull out your phone so you can record it but you don’t want to ruin the moment. 

“Fuck, that tile is a lot colder than I thought it would be,” Ivar grumbles and it makes you laugh. “If I fall, you know you’re going to fall with me, right?”

“Gee, Ivar, I hadn’t really thought of that,” You say sarcastically and there’s a glare from his face that you don’t realize how much you have missed until that moment.

With his feet on the floor you repeat the same movements, assess, feeling, having him move his toes and his ankles and all the while Ivar won’t look at his legs. Adjusting his hospital gown, you position his hand to grip the railing, and you put your shoulder under his opposite arm. 

“Ready?” You ask.

“Not really,” Ivar admits. 

“If you think you’re going to fall, just sit back down, alright?” 

“You ever done this before?” Ivar asks, stalling.

“Only at least once a day while I’m on duty,” You answer. 

“I don’t know if I can—”

“Ivar, not today,” You state. “We’re not doing this today, we’re not doubting ourselves,” And Ivar inhales. “On three, yeah?”

“Baby—”

“Ivar,” You say sternly, catching his eyes. “You can do this. You can stand up. It’ll get you that much closer to coming home,” 

“Alright,” Ivar peeps.

“One, two…two and a half…three,” You finally say. And as you hold your breath your barrel your feet down against the ground, taking Ivar’s weight as you help to lift him. You watch the muscles in his arm tense, the veins popping into view as he pushes himself to be flat on his feet. And for a moment, time freezes, and Ivar stands. 

He stands.

“Fuck,” Ivar hisses. “It’s worse than pins and needles,” He groans. 

“Lean some of your weight on me,” You tell him. And he does. “Alright, good, now shift some back against the bed,” You then say. As Ivar follows your command you take your free arm and you reach for the walker that’s collecting dust by his bed. 

“We’re going to switch, and you’re going to push your weight through your hands against the walker, alright?”

“No—I’ll fall,” Ivar tries.

“On three, yeah?”

“Y/N,” Ivar tells you but you know better this time than to let him pull himself out of the moment. You move the device in front of him and he follows suit without argument, grunting slightly as he moves his hand from the rail to the handle. Slowly you help him bring the other hand down, catching his weight before he’s standing on his own, hands gripping the bars for dear life. 

And you laugh—in sheer shock you look at Ivar standing before you.

“Ivar!” You exclaim. “You’re standing, you’re—you’re fucking standing!”

Ivar has a look of discomfort across his face, mixing with the anguish and what feels like slight embarrassment while you reward him for what he thinks is the most basic fucking thing.

“Where do you hurt?” You ask quickly, searching his face.

“Do you want to guess?” Ivar snaps at you. His breathing rate increases as he feels his palms get sweaty and he worries he’s going to lose his balance.

“I’m right here, Ivar,” You tell him. 

“I’m standing,” He finally croaks. “I’m actually—standing,” And there’s a smile on his face. 

You move yourself to his vision, reaching through your toes to kiss his chin and you smile back at him. 

“I told you,” You whisper to him, and Ivar sees that color come back to your face.

“Where’s Floki?” Ivar asks.

“Did you really think I would go that far, eh?” Floki sings from the hallway. 

“Floki—I’m standing,” Ivar says in disbelief. “You have to call Hvitserk,” He adds.

“My phone is a bit busy right now,” Floki hums, and you notice then, where his bag sits abandoned in his chair, his phone sits just outside of it, propped up, and recording. 

Tags:

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full masterlist can be found here.

#vikings #vikings au #modern vikings #ivar au #modern vikings au #ivar #modern ivar #vikings fiction #ivar lothbrok #ivar x you #ivar x reader #modern ivar x you #modern ivar x reader #floki #floki au #modern floki

[yourstory-teller]

when Messi was younger he would get sick and puke after or during a match?? so can you please do one where like right after the match the reader is with him and notices somethings off so she takes him into a private dressing room and like helps him while he gets sick

Heyy, thank you for requesting! I took the liberty to make it about the barça vs albacete match where he scored his first goal, bc I thought it'd make it even more sweet 🥺

Warnings: Mentions of throwing up. Just slightly though, not at all graphic. This one's really pure fluff ♡

Gif is mine <proud>

First out of many

It would be a ridiculous understatement to say that you were climbing up the walls. To be honest, you'd describe yourself as being in a state of pure bliss.

You were a huge football fan, always had been, so of course it was meant to be a big event for you. Being able to watch a match of your favorite team, from up close, to feel the stands vibrate after each pass, crowd going crazy with each goal.

But, there was something else. Something that made everything even more exciting, more incredible.

Your boyfriend would be playing. He would be down there, running and sweating, giving everything he had to defend his team's badge, and you would be there to support him in the best ways you could.

The whole moment right before the match was extremely hectic and distressing for you, but it was certainly a thousand times worse for Lionel. Poor guy, looked like a kettle about to explode. You were able to share only a brief moment before the game started, in which he asked for a good luck kiss, that you promptly granted him. After that, you both parted ways, and you went to, excitedly, take your seat on the bleachers.

The first half passed, a goal was scored and everything was going well, but your boyfriend still hadn't come off the bench.

In the exact same way, second half came, and nothing. The match was almost over, there were less than 5 minutes left and you were about to pass out.

And then there he was, walking onto the field.

The game was about to end and you could barely hide your anxiety, frantically moving your hands, sometimes reaching up to touch your already messy hair or snapping your fingers in an almost painful way. Three minutes.

You had your eyes on him the entire time, unblinking. He was fast and agile, slippery as he passed the ball through all of those big men who kept unsuccessfully trying to take him down. He was unstoppable.

You were standing in one of the lower rows, considerably closer to the lawn. From there, you could clearly see Ronaldinho dribbling the defender and making a beautiful pass, which Leo mastered perfectly. He ran, the ball at his feet, passing one and another player and then shot at the goal, over the goalkeeper's head. Jesus, what a goal!

The referee whistled. Offside.

Sighs and screams of indignation at the questionable decision were shared by the entire crowd, and you were now nervously biting on your nails. Everyone tensed up once more as they waited for the players to get back into position. It was the final minute.

One more whistle. The game was back in action, everyone moving at full speed, and you almost -almost- lost sight of him.

There were a few seconds left in the match and you swear you could feel how determined he was.

Once again, he had the ball. It was taken from him, but quickly recovered. A touch for Ronaldinho who, somehow, managed to replicate the exact same pass from the previous move. Lionel lets the ball bounce once and, before a defender throws himself desperately and the goalkeeper tries to leave the goal, it happens, this time leaving no space for complaints.

That was it, game over. 2x0 for Barcelona.

He runs off with his hands in the air, cheering, and the Camp Nou goes wild. The noise was almost deafening and you would not be able to hear properly for at least a couple of days, but you couldn't care less. It was a fantastic goal, the very first of his professional career, and you were there to see it.

You practically jumped from your place in the bleachers directly onto the pitch, rushingly making your way over to your boyfriend who was already waiting for you with his arms wide open. You both broke out into giggles as he grabbed you tightly and spun you around.

"Fueste increíble, mi jugador!" You half-shouted, trying to make yourself heard over the incessant screams that came from both the crowd and the team that surrounded you. "Gracias, hermosa" he answered with a smile. However, despite his apparent efforts, you could see that something wasn't quite right. He looked odd, his usually rosy cheeks now pale, even though he'd spent the last few minutes running non-stop.

"Are you feeling okay, honey?" You asked, brow furrowed in a newfound concern. He looked back at you and cracked another smile, a considerably less joyful one this time. "Not so much. My stomach feels a little weird." You noticed, then, that one of the hands that previously rested on your waist, was now holding his belly.

Before he could think of uttering another word, you were already grabbing his hand and making your walk to the changing rooms at the back of the field, occasionally smiling and waving to some of the other players you met on the way.

Once you got there, it seemed like a switch had been turned on for Lionel, as the boy usad every bit of energy he still got to run at top speed towards one of the private cabins. You followed, a little slower, and knelt beside him, carefully holding his hair and rubbing his back in what you hoped would be a soothing way.

You stood like that for a few minutes into the distressing situation, to say the least, until Leo finally seemed to be starting to get better. He wiped the corners of his mouth with a piece of paper you handed him and then sat down with his legs sat straight, leaning back against the toilet. "I'm so sorry" He mumbled, throat sharply sore.

"No, no, there's no need to be sorry, cariño." You repositioned yourself so you'd be facing him and carefully reached out to cup his face, gently brushing a few strands of wet hair away from his forehead. "It's okay, huh? Are you feeling better?" He nodded weakly, leaning into your touch.

Moments later and the two of you remained there, sitting on the floor of a toilet stall, his head now resting on your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his long tangled locks.

You felt him move slightly, just enough so he could look up at you. "You saw what I did there, princesa?" You stared into his big brown eyes and they were shining in a way that was so mesmerizing, it took you some time to finally answer.

"Such a beautiful, beautiful first goal." You said, pressing a kiss to his temple. "There's still many more to come." And you prayed, to whatever God could hear you, that you'd be there for him after each and every one of them.

Hope you like it! Send me requests at anytime!

#lionel messi #leo messi #messi10 #messi #lionel messi x reader #messi x reader #football #football fanfic #football player #lovers #love #stories #writing #ronaldinho #foryou #foryoupage #fc barcelona #fc barça #fanfic #imagine #world cup

[h2llish]

i'm bored and so i'm gonna assign twst characters plants through their meanings :) heartslabyul and savanaclaw!

riddle rosehearts -> i actually couldn't decide so he gets two. one, is roses (shocking i know /s) but it's specifically green roses. green roses mean growth, hope, and new beginnings and i think that's fitting for riddle since he's trying to start anew after his overblot and relearning what's right from everything his mother taught him as a child. the second is aloe, which gained the meaning of grief in victorian times. they were often given to children who lost their parents. i think riddle is grieving quietly for the childhood he never had while trying to unlearn what his mother taught him.

ace trappola -> this loser (/aff). i assign him arborvitae, it's a type of tree. it symbolizes strength and (ever)lasting friendship. because no one call me tell he's not a loyal friend. how quickly he was to defend yuu when riddle insulted their parents. i know he can be a little shit, but he seems to be a good friend, and that's why i assigned him arborvitae.

deuce spade -> deuce! my son <3 two for him as well. edelweiss, because it means strength and courage. they were often used as a badge for those who faced large mountains. and then rosemary, because it means remembrance. i chose rosemary because i think that when the prefect finally goes home, he'll grieve the hardest, and he'd do everything he can to not get sad and try to remember the good times they shared. (he often forgets that the prefect isn't from twisted wonderland, which means he's very used to their presence, so them leaving would hit him hard.)

trey clover -> geranium (no specific color)! happiness and friendship, for the relationship he not only shares with riddle and che'nya, but also a lot of the characters. although he sees himself as bland, a lot of people seem quite fond of his character (rook for example).

cater diamond -> lilies have a few meanings, especially of color. for cater, i assign the yellow lily for the meaning of lies. he's obviously got insecurities hidden under the surface. he has a picture of himself he puts on for everyone to see. for example, he doesn't like sweets, to which ace, and deuce were quite surprised to learn that "someone like cater" isn't fond of anything sweet. cater puts up a lie, a mask, which is why i think yellow lilies fit him well.

leona kingscholar -> leona! i assign leona marigolds for their meanings of jealousy and to succeed. he's a jealous person, and he strives to be number one when it comes to his birth as second born, and second to malleus at nrc. hence, marigolds.

ruggie bucchi -> nehehe. for my favorite beastman, sunflowers! sunflowers, in chinese culture, mean good luck and happiness, and i think ruggie deserves both. they also mean long life and seeking strength. while ruggie knows he's not as strong as his peers, he seeks to survive and make it into another year, which requires strength.

jack howl -> i know he likes cacti but that's not the plant i'd assign him, rather, it's the peony. in japan, peonies mean bravery and honor. jack is brave, he stood up and worked alongside others during leona's and azul's overblots. he also obviously has honor; he's determined and not really afraid to speak his mind, especially when he spoke to leona about his admiration for the lion, and towards ruggie as well.

alright that's it. maybe i'll do the other dorms idk.

#【 rambles ✧ #heartslabyul #savanaclaw #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #cater diamond #deuce spade #trey clover #ace trappola #riddle rosehearts #twst #twisted wonderland

[pahtoosh]

strugglin’ (lee edition)

masterlist

18+

wc: 460 words

warnings: mentions of lee’s past as a neglected student🥺 soooo cheesy at the end. its lee bodecker! i love him and im gonna be cheesy about it i can’t help myself!

a/n: *chanting* more lee bodecker! more lee bodecker! more lee bodecker!

pairing: lee bodecker x gn!little!reader

summary: lee with a little who’s struggling in school

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Lee’s never been a great student

he had a rough home life when he was in school and that was never taken into consideration by his teachers, so he slipped through the cracks

he was no stranger to skipping classes or even cheating on assignments, but he doesn’t want that for you

Lee wants to give you anything you need to be a capable, brilliant student because no one did that for him

he knows his baby is smarter than he is and he wears that badge proudly

he lets you talk through concepts with him and even though he doesn’t understand a lick of what you’re saying, he doesn’t mind at all

Lee does love when you take the time to make sure he understands stuff though, he feels a deep level of satisfaction from getting his brain to work a different way

when you’re struggling with school, Lee’s reaction is to distract you from it

his job is to make you feel better so that you can come back with a fresh mind and accomplish whatever it is you need to do

he’ll take you on whatever adventure suits your needs that day

need some fresh air? he’s taking you to your favorite park, even though it’s the furthest one from the house, and you’re going on a lovely walk and having a picnic!

Lee makes sure you go on the swings before your picnic

he loves hearing your squeals when he pushes you super high in the air

his sweet baby always wants to make things fair, so he’ll go on the swings for a couple minutes just to make you happy

nobody would believe their eyes if they saw the sheriff sitting on a too-small swing with his baby trying their hardest to push him

he doesn’t go very high(partially because you can’t push him that hard and partially because he uses his feet to counter your push because he gets dizzy)

but you’re both so happy and just giggling with each other

when you come back home, you feel so much more relaxed

the day out with your daddy was exactly the fresh start you needed

for the rest of the week, you are so determined and more productive than before!

Lee’s so proud of you and happy that he was able to help in some way

he makes a comment about you getting to smart for Knockemstiff and leaving for a place where your beautiful mind can be appreciated by your job and those around you

he says it in a lighthearted way, but you can see the sadness in his eyes at the thought of you leaving

you shake your head and give your daddy a big hug

“I already feel appreciated here.”

#lee bodecker x little!reader #daddy!lee bodecker x little!reader #gn!little!reader #headcanon #fluff #sfw regression #agere fic #littlespace fics #strugglin’ (lee edition) #strugglin’-(lee-edition) #strugglin lee edition #strugglin-lee-edition #toosh writes