#he's not sassy's. he's better than you. get THAT fact right.

[justporo]

Brewing Storms

A storm is brewing - oh yes, a literal one too. Tav's scared to be alone during a thunderstorm. Astarion is reluctant but stays to provide some comfort - and realises it might have been one of the better things to happen to him.

Author's Note: I started this a while ago and then stuff got in the way - like Gale for example (lol) - and now I'm happy to be back to write something soft for Astarion and Tav!

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: Talk of trauma, very light smut Wordcount: 2,4k

~~~

Astarion and you had fallen into a sort of weird routine with your little late night escapades. Since the party after you saved the Grove and the first night you’ve spent together you had come together time and time again.

First only every couple of days. Always meeting somewhere away from camp and then sneaking back sometime before the others woke up. Although you were surely fair they all knew already anyway. But now you were almost spending every night together. Fortunately for the two of you, being elven meant you were still getting enough rest despite the nightly adventures.

Astarion kept feeding you his cheesy lines – you ate them right up. No one had ever given you this kind of attention. And as much as you knew that it was an act: how could you resist? You had never experienced such flattery nor could anyone you’d shared intimacy with ever compare to Astarion. But that wasn’t even the main thing.

You’d had crushes before, you’d fallen in love before but you were pretty sure it had never been quite like this. Your whole chest sometimes ached when you looked at Astarion. Sometimes when you caught him in a rare moment when he let his perfected mask drop for a second you saw the bottomless sadness and worry in his eyes. And all you wished for was to erase whatever it was that caused that sadness – to keep him safe and always give him something to smile about.

You had quite positively fallen for the vampiric elf. What had been a crush at first had very quickly become an unyielding need in your heart: desperate to be near him, to hear his voice, talk to him, to laugh at his sassy comments, to lay in his arms and to hold him in turn. Out of everything you surely hadn’t wanted or planned to fall in love with everything else going on – but there you were.

You were a hopeless case – even though you were sure it would come back to bite you (and maybe even literally): be it that he lost interest in you way quicker than you would like or that he had ulterior motives and that you were merely a means to an end.

In fact, you were entirely sure that there was more to Astarion. You weren’t all fooled and blinded by your brewing emotions for the vampire. Maybe not really the first time, but as you got more used to sharing a bed with Astarion you were well aware that it seemed like he wasn’t fully there with you.

You could take only guesses at why that was exactly – and you didn’t like any of those.

At several occasions you had tried to bring it up. But he had swatted your concerns away every time, just making a sultry joke or drowning you with kisses until you had forgotten what you had wanted to say. In any case he always pushed you to get back into his arms.

Gladly, you would have offered him an open ear – your heart was already wide open.

But you were sure this wouldn’t last. You were in way over your head and you so desperately wanted to avoid breaking the spell.

And as much as you would have wished for him to open up more, to let you in a bit more and as much as you would have liked to confess the way you felt: you didn’t think you could do it without ruining whatever it was between the two of you.

At least, he seemed to be a bit more present when he was with you of late. The changes seemed subtle enough, but you were convinced that it slowly became different. Maybe it was just that the two of you had gotten used to this dance now, but you could swear his hands lingered longer now on your skin, that his kisses became deeper and more tender, that the way he looked at you became softer sometimes. And that those moments, when he seemed miles away, became fewer.

Tonight, when you had set up camp it had seemed like a storm was brewing.

You had already felt tense when you had noticed: growing up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate as a child with nowhere safe to go had traumatised you for life. Especially when it came to storms: too many nights you’d had to spend outside somewhere while the rain kept pouring down.

But worst had always been the thunder. Every single one like an explosion while a little child sat somewhere cowered trying to stay safe and crying from fear and loneliness. Even when you had gotten older and had always managed to secure a safe spot for sleeping and shelter the fear of thunderstorms had remained.

And thus far you’d gotten lucky that there had been no storms since this whole chaos had started. But the stroke of luck was over now it seemed.

When Astarion had thrown you certain looks after the party had gone to unwind each on their own after eating, you had very rambly and awkwardly suggested to maybe spend the night in your tent this night, because the others surely knew anyway and what if it started pouring and wasn’t it more comfortable anyway?

You just were desperate to not be somewhere outside when the thunderstorm was going to hit – and maybe even not alone.

And Astarion had looked at you suspiciously with a raised eyebrow, surely noticing that something was up. But in the end, he had simply shrugged and followed you to your tent.

So now you lay pressed against each other. Astarion on top of you, his body delightfully weighing you down, both of your shirts already off and his hands kept roaming your body as you gratefully gave in to his open-mouthed kisses. His hand had just dipped below the waistline of your trousers when you could hear the first far away rumbling.

Immediately you tensed a little but forced yourself to try and not be bothered by it. Astarion’s kisses wandered down your throat now.

A second already much louder rumble. You gasped.

And apparently Astarion had noticed that it wasn’t because of his touch – you could almost feel how he had furrowed his brows. But he kept silent and continued to kiss and caress you, leaning on one of his forearms.

When a third roar of thunder made you actually wince and recoil, he pushed up on his arm and looked at you. The other hand though stayed right where it was inside your pants.

“Afraid of a little thunder, love?”, he said and cocked an eyebrow. His tone wasn’t even overly sassy but you still couldn’t help but to feel hurt.

More thunder. This time so loud it felt like it was exactly above you. You recoiled again and felt how panic rose in you. You pushed the vampire - who actually looked hurt by that - off of you. His hand slipping from where it had caressed you.

“Maybe I am afraid of thunder. So?”, you spat back while you sat up and hugged your knees to your naked chest. As much as you wanted the comfort of his arms: panic and whatever feeling it had been that had overcome you when Astarion had looked hurt when you’d pushed him back got the better of you.

Shame mixed with the fear and you could feel your throat close up.

Astarion had knelt back on the balls of his feet watching you with a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. He definitely didn’t seem as cocky as a few moments ago though.

You looked away as another thing spiced up the mix of emotions running high: worry, that you had just broke something that couldn’t be repaired.

“I-“, Astarion started and then stopped helplessly.

The vampire was actually worried about you in this moment. Astarion was surprised by the sudden outburst of emotion and he was certainly hurt that you pushed him away. But more than anything: he didn’t know what to do now. Quite obviously you were not in the mood anymore for getting down and dirty.

It occurred to him that he did not want you to be afraid and upset. But then again, he had no idea how to make it so. And on top of that: he was pretty sure you weren’t interested in anything of the sort. Sure, you were absolutely the one person he talked the most to in the party. And yes, you were always making sure he’d gotten enough blood – but that was probably because you had need of him being his fittest for fighting. Also, you did actually seem to care about what had happened to him, wanting to learn more about him – but…

The vampire was confused and helpless. So he opted for the one option he deemed reasonable: leave.

He grabbed his shirt and started pulling it over his head while saying: “Alright, since it seems there won’t be any naughty indulgence tonight, I guess I better get back to my tent and you can try and-“

He was interrupted by you grabbing his wrist firmly.

“Please”, you pleaded, “don’t leave me alone.”

You were desperate: you didn’t want him to leave, you didn’t want to have ruined the delicate thing that had been forming between you.

Astarion let his shirt drop again and looked at you. Your eyes were filled with tears and full of fear. His confusion became even more: “Darling, I’m not… Maybe you should ask the druid to… help you. Maybe he has something herbal to-“ You basically yanked on the vampire’s arm.

“No please, Astarion, I just… want you to stay here with me. Just… hold me? Please?”, you pleaded with him as tears started to stream down your face.

You really didn’t want to be alone for one but also you were desperate to feel his arms around you again – to be sure he would still want to hold you, as much as wanting his comfort.

Astarion’s brows furrowed again but he dropped his shirt again and crawled over to you as you shyly opened up your arms to him to be cradled by the vampire. He slid his arms around you and softly moved you until you were laying there: him on his back with you carefully snuggled up against his chest – skin on skin.

The relief you felt was almost instant. Not only because he had agreed to stay but also feeling his body against yours immediately made some of the tension inside you ease.

Astarion reluctantly started to stroke your back as you buried your face against his chest. It all felt more than just a little awkward and you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks, but you just wrapped your arms around the vampire and tried to calm yourself.

Still tears kept coming and thunder was rolling in quicker now. Then the rain started as well and became a constant drumroll on your tent. The loud rumbles kept going and made you wince from time to time, but it was now considerably better than before.

Astarion grew more confident with just stroking your back. He even carefully placed a kiss on the top of your head at one point, in your all messed up hair. You both eased into this rather unfamiliar form of closeness.

After being stressed about the coming storm all evening, you felt that your body couldn’t retain the tension anymore. You weren’t entirely sure what all this meant for Astarion and you, but you forced yourself to just stay in this moment. Because this already was something you wouldn’t have thought to ever be possible. It was tender and sweet. Something you would have never imagined when this vampire had, upon first meeting him, thrown you on the ground and threatened you with a knife.

You were so desperate to hold onto this. So, you wrapped your arms around him a little tighter and cautiously tangled your legs with his. He let it happen.

And Astarion – Astarion’s mind was racing, utterly confused by the turn the night had taken. It definitely wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy this outcome – to his own surprise. Quite the opposite actually.

When the thunder subsided and the rain tap-tap-tapping on the tent ceiling was what remained of the storm and he felt you quite noticeably relax into his arms even more – his chest started to ache.

He was overthrown by his own sentiment and the trust you put into him; surprised, scared even.

In his thoughts Astarion kept turning around the fact how you had specifically asked him to stay with you although you had so visibly been upset. More upset even than he had ever seen you in any battle. And that you had wanted nothing but to be held in his arms. And he – to his own surprise – had been happy to be there for you, proud even, realising that he really wanted you to be alright.

You hadn’t even talked since he had taken you in his arms. Just felt the connection, your skin warm on his. His hands hesitatingly caressing and trying to comfort you while your tears subsided and your breathing became more even.

And even though it had been you who had pleaded for comfort – Astarion could feel it too. Felt, how the warmth of your body soaked into his undead body and your breath brushed over his naked upper body – now in a steady and calm rhythm again. You were so close, he could even feel the beat of your steadying heartbeat through your conjoined chests.

And when Astarion was sure that you must’ve drifted off into your dreams – because he had held you – he kept staring up at the ceiling of the tent.

The rain had become almost non-existent after what must’ve been hours now.

The vampire’s chest still ached with something he wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge yet. But he could feel that it had become something way too big to ignore. Something that would soon be unleashed – for better or for worse. And he was frightened about that.

But not in this moment. This moment he would hold onto. So he wrapped his arms around you a little tighter still, closed his eyes and full on buried his face in your hair while he was so fully aware of the feeling of your body against his.

Then he whispered so silently, even the last of the raindrops would have drowned out the words. So silently, because he was still so unsure, so scared and the words were only meant for him – and maybe sometime for you: “My love, what ever have you done to me?”

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #tav #one shot #drabble #bg3

[frenchkisstheabyss]

🖤 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖆𝖓 🖤

🖤 Pairing: ex boyfriend!choi san x chubby!fem!reader (mingi's spoken about but doesn't appear)

🖤 Genre: angst/fluff/smut

🖤 Summary: You make a living stepping on men's necks, literally and metaphorically speaking. Men spend every dime they have for the chance to be your lapdog. You are their weakness. Your dirty little secret? You have a weakness of your own, one you've tried your hardest to leave in the past, but you've managed to make him jealous and, oh, I think he's knocking on your door right now.

🖤 Word Count: 2.3k-ish

🖤 Warnings: reader works as a dom so she does qualify as a ✨sex worker✨ & it's treated as a positive cause slay queen, jealous /possessive San, unprotected sex, fingering, nibbling, scratching, reader for sure has a lil praise kink, this man does not pull out, San's giving dom vibes & reader's quite subby for him, pet names (baby, my girl, good girl) & that's all darlings

🖤 A/N: My chubby girl smut agenda continues with this fic as it will with all others and the best part is, no one can stop me. Mwahahahaha. No, but really, I hope you lovelies enjoy reading it.

Also a big thanks to @anyamaris for test reading everything my brain throws out all of the time. Love of my life, truly.

Your night routine is sacred. Never more so than on nights like tonight when you take extra steps to make it particularly romantic for yourself. You treat yourself like a lover, running a nice warm bubble bath and preparing your favorite fruits to snack on while you soak in it. You don’t rush to cover your body afterward, instead taking the time to find pleasure in every stretch mark and every curve as you massage rich tropical oils into your skin. 

The rain is your companion, singing to you in the form of raindrops patting at your window. Candles burn on your windowsill, tiny lanterns reflecting shadows in the darkness of this place you call home. Crawling into your bed, you slip beneath your freshly washed sheets and scroll through your phone to find the right song. It doesn’t take long to find it. You hit “play” and close your eyes, ready to be swept away by the sweet notes emanating from your phone. 

This is serenity. This is heaven. This is—

“What the actual fuck?” you shout, shaken by an unexpected knock at your door. The knocking is impatient, the agitation of the person on the other end undeniable. You jump from your bed, the sheet still clinging to your figure, and cautiously approach the door. You specifically didn’t schedule any sessions for tonight and your clients know better than to pop up unannounced. 

“Whoever you are, go away! I have a gun!” You do. You have to. In your line of business being able to protect yourself is a necessity. It’d be silly not to have one and if ever there were an example why, this has to be it. The knocking stops. A brief moment of silence passes and then—

“You have a gun?” San asks, more confused than he is threatened. You don’t notice until now that you’ve been holding your breath this entire time but at the sound of his voice, you can miraculously breathe again. “San? What are you doing here?” you frown, cracking the door enough to get a good look at your ex.

The look is, in fact, good. Better than good, it’s wonderful. For all of this mysterious frustration he seems to be carrying, he still manages to be the most handsome thing you can imagine finding in your hallway near midnight. 

San pushes past you, marching into your cozy studio apartment as if it were his own. “We need to talk. Now.” You roll your eyes, holding back laughter as you close the door behind him. “Someone’s sassy tonight” you tease, watching as he removes his wet boots and coat. He places them exactly where they’re meant to go.

You smile to yourself, finding it sweet that he still remembers how things go after nearly a year apart. “Don’t patronize me.” “I’m not patronizing you,” you say, approaching him with a hand outstretched to stroke his cheek, “Sannie—” 

San takes a step back, the darkness in his eyes intensified by your attempt at affection. “And don’t call me that!” “Lower your voice! This is my home. You can respect me in it or get out.” Seeing you upset cools him down a bit. Enough to question the emotions that led him to drive over here to begin with.

He shouldn’t be here. He has no right to confront you. To care what you do or who you do it with. But it’s been eating him up inside for days, plaguing his every waking thought. Some part of him is still tethered to you and that’s why, against his better judgment, he’s here.

“Are you…” he stutters, the anger bubbling up once more at the thought of what he’s about to ask, “How long has Mingi been coming to you?” “Ah,” you gasp, fully realizing the awkwardness of the situation. Dodging eye contact, you head for the kitchen, busying yourself with the tea kettle. “You want some tea? We should have tea.”

Raking his fingers through delicate strands of pitch black hair, he approaches the kitchen and lets himself, for the most fleeting of moments, enjoy seeing you like this again. He’s missed you making him tea late at night. This would be everything he ever wanted under any other circumstance than this. “I don’t want tea. I want you to answer my question. How long?”

“A few weeks” you sigh, abandoning the kettle on the counter, “We ran into each other at the club one night and we started talking then, I mean, I don’t know, it just sorta happened.” In an instant, he’s on you, fingers squeezing your wrists as he presses you against the counter. “Things like this don’t sorta happen!” “Oh, come on, San. I have bills to pay. If I don’t take on clients, who’s gonna pay them? You?” “Haven’t I before?” Something about being reminded of before makes you as breathless as he is. “That was a long time ago.” 

A long time ago but why does it feel like yesterday when he last had your body pressed against every wall in this apartment? So many hours were spent using your fingertips to traverse every exquisite muscle on his body. There are new ones now, you see them flex when he readjusts his grip on you. How good they must feel to touch. God bless the gym.

Shaking yourself free of your lust fueled daze, you break your wrists loose from him. “If that’s all you can go.” Why are you doing this? Why are you so stubborn? You don’t want him to go. Your body—your heart—begs him to stay even if it’s just to argue for the rest of the night. 

“Fine, I’ll leave, but not until you tell me one more thing. Does he touch you? Like I did?” he asks, his expression cold as he tries to contain his jealousy. “Touch me like you did?” you giggle, reaching to stroke his cheek again. This time he doesn’t step away. He lets you touch him, your soft hand warming the cool raindrops on his cheek. A fire ignites in his eyes, not unlike the flames dancing atop the candle wicks. It’s distant, buried somewhere deep, but you see it and it makes you smile.

“I never let anyone touch me like you did” you whisper, “Mingi just wants someone to boss him around. I happen to be good at that. There’s nothing sexual. I could…” San tugs the sheet tightly around your body, gathering the two loose ends at your hip where his knuckles just barely graze the plush of your thigh. You let out a sound that’s almost a moan but not quite. He smirks, bringing his other hand to your side to massage the softness of your love handles. You're so cute when you’re flustered.

“I, uh, I…” you stutter, watching as his lips grow nearer to yours, “I could stop seeing him if you want.” “You’d do that for me?” San asks, teasing your lower lip with his. “I would do anything for you. You know that.” This is what he does to you and this is why you broke things off with him. San’s love brings you to your knees. You fold for him in a millisecond. You’re supposed to have every man in the palm of your hand yet you find yourself, delicate and fragile, nestled in his. 

“Will you do something else for me?” “Like what?” “Kiss me.” And you do. No hesitation. No time for second guesses. Anything for him. A rush hits you, threatening to knock you off of your feet. San only holds you closer, his tongue tangling with yours, indulging in the taste of you. A craving much overdue to be satisfied. 

“Do I still have to leave?” he pants, his voice a low rasp as he kisses his way down your chin. He buries his face in your neck, his kisses growing more passionate with each passing second. You smell good enough to eat and he almost does, nibbling at your neck sharply enough to send chills down your spine. You shake your head, wrapping a leg around his waist to grind against him. The simple act of kissing you has him hard enough that not even the few layers of fabric between you can suppress his need. 

“Fuck, baby” he groans, his eyes nearly rolling back from the rhythm of your hips. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him back up for another kiss. “Don’t leave me, Sannie. Please.” You’re prepared to beg more, as much as he wants you to, but your words turn incoherent at the sensation of his thumb stroking your clit. His other fingers dance dangerously close to your entrance, happily collecting the juices dripping from your core.

You look down to find that the sheet barely clings to your body, except for a small corner stuck between you and the counter. Everything has fallen away leaving you completely exposed. San’s favorite way to have you. “You’re so wet for me. My girl” he coos, easing two fingers deep into you, “Still my girl? Hmm?” You’re trembling, gripping his shirt as you ride his fingers in time with the flicking of his wrist.

Only he could do this. Make you feel this unbelievably good with just his fingers. "Always your girl. Always—ah” you moan into his mouth before he’s kissing his way down your neck again. The way your back is arched makes your breasts sit so deliciously that he has to taste them. San needs to feel the weight of them in his hands as he captures your perked nipples between his lips, circling them with his tongue. 

His mouth is so full of you that every moan that leaves him vibrates through your chest making sure that you never once underestimate the intensity of his longing. Your thighs are soaked, your pussy dripping—pulsing—clenching around his fingers. Your little squeaks and moans are too pretty. Too addictive. San picks up speed, his only mission to make a complete mess of you or to make you make a complete mess of yourself. Either or both. Definitely both. 

“Sannie. You’re gonna make me—fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you cry, feeling the pressure build within you. “Mmm,” he hums, releasing your nipple but not without taking one last lick of your overstimulated bud. You didn’t need to tell him. You never do. He knows when you're close, down to the second, which is why his timing is perfect when he pulls his fingers away leaving you hanging on the edge of oblivion.

You whine at the unexpected loss, your clit twitching and your walls greedy for something to hold onto. San moves out of reach, taking his time to shed his clothing. “Not on my fingers, baby,” he says, flashing that devilishly handsome smile of his, “On me.” He disappears around the corner and you trail behind him like a bright eyed puppy who wants more than anything to be the object of its owner's affection.

San sits on the edge of the bed, admiring the way your body jiggles as you skip over to him. He takes you by the hand, lowering you onto his lap, and the skin to skin contact sends a shot of adrenaline coursing through both of you. “I could just look at you all night. So beautiful” he muses, palms slapping your ass. His fingers dig in, keeping your hips raised enough that the tip of his cock almost presses at your slit.

You drape your arms over his shoulders, kissing him on the bridge of his nose, “You can look at me all you want.” One of San’s hands disappears beneath you, stroking his length as he lowers you down onto him. He stops at the tip, letting your arousal run down his shaft. “All I want because you belong to me?” You bite down on your bottom lip, eager to take him. “Yes,” you mewl and he feeds you another inch. A reward for being his good girl.

“No more Mingi?”

“No more. I swear.” 

Another inch and your heart skips a beat. This is evil. “No more anyone else” he demands, taunting you with one more inch before taking it back, “I’ll take care of you, my sweet girl. Only me.” “Only you” you promise, unintentionally batting your eyelashes in the most innocent way. San grabs your hips, slamming you down onto him, “Good now cum for me.”

Being stretched by him, full of every thick rigid inch of his cock, is intoxicating enough. But the feeling of handing over control, of letting him have you completely, has you buzzing. San bounces you in his lap, kissing you everywhere his lips can access, whispering every praise he’s saved up for you over time.

Precious. Perfect. Never letting go. Love you. My everything. My world. Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Sannie—” you draw a breath in. A flash of heat hits you and you’re lost to pleasure. Your body explodes and implodes. Heavy and weightless all at once. You gush down his length, every inch of him drenched with your juices. San doesn’t stop, not even when your nails dig deep into the skin of his shoulder. He only goes faster and harder, wanting to break you, his precious girl, and put you back together then do it again. 

But his body’s as sensitive as yours and he can’t hold back, spilling into you to the point of overflow. There’s so much warmth and fullness. It’s comforting, soothing you as you gradually float back down. Lying back on the bed, San cradles you in his arms, not wanting to be anywhere else than right here with you.

You rest your head on his chest, feeling his love for you in every breath he takes. How you ever pushed him away you can’t understand but you know, as he softly kisses your forehead, that you never will again.

#choi san x reader #choi san x you #choi san angst #choi san smut #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x female reader #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez angst #chubby reader #plus size reader

[thatfreshi]

Greater Than This (Astarion x Reader)

Part 2 to It's Over

Tw - mentions of abuse

Recommended Song: If I'm Being Honest - Dodie

You walk around Baldur's Gate aimlessly, wondering if he'll follow you, wondering if he really meant everything he said. You didn't really mean it, when you said it was over, just something to hurt him the way he hurt you. That's the problem with you and Astarion: you can be so childish at times, always looking for an eye for an eye. Perhaps it's all you know. Maybe it was for the best, to not try and love one another, maybe you just didn't know how.

But then again, how could you sit there and let him become everything he hates? And why would he want that? Had he genuinely convinced himself it would be any different? That he wouldn't fall victim to demonic greed? Or was he truly just petrified, after centuries of being the beaten underdog? It makes your eyes water just thinking about it, the few things he had told you, the times your tadpoles connected and you were witness to atrocities you didn't know existed. It wasn't fair, but nothing is.

He's thinking about it too, the horrors of the kennels, the crypt and the taste of mold. Astarion didn't mean it when he said you were just like Cazador. In fact, he's nauseous at the thought of him even saying such a thing. But he snapped at you, and it was enough for you to say it was over. Were you being genuine? He wasn't sure, but he could very easily believe you'd want to leave him. Sure, he's so enraged, but he loves you truly. Two very hard feelings to balance. Unsure of what to do with all his scattered feelings, he finally makes his way downstairs to join the group.

"Well well, if it isn't the vampire of the hour. How ya doin' Astarion?"

Karlach gives him a slightly unwelcome pat on the back. He tries to think of some snarky thing to say, something sassy that will get a little laugh, but he can only muster up a meek sentence.

"Do you know where Tav is?"

It grips at his heart, how pathetic he felt. Gods, how could he be so angry but so sad? He knows you're often right, that you usually make better choices than him, but did you really make the right choice this time? Was he really so incredibly wrong? But still, you killed Cazador, which he had every right to do.

"They uh... they left a while ago. Seemed very upset."

Wyll takes a sip of his water afterwards, as if to avoid saying anything else.

"Guess it's a good thing I don't burn in the sun just yet."

Astarion leaves the inn, leaving your companions to speculate about the lover's quarrel. He walks around town looking for you, listening intently to all the footsteps nearby. Perhaps it was years of training himself, but he was quite good at determining whose steps were whose. You catch sight of him as you're sitting under a large oak tree, and part of you is furious. But the other part of you screams for him, begging him to notice you. He does soon enough, and he makes his way to the grassy patch beneath the leaves.

"Mind if I sit?"

You don't know what to say. Clearly he doesn't either, as he's questioning if he was even allowed to ask. Despite the confusion in the air, you pat the ground next to you.

"I don't think you're like him."

He wraps his arms under his knees.

"I know. But you still said it."

"I know. I guess I still say plenty of stupid things."

You look up at the sky, thinking about how sunny it is today.

"Did you really want to do the ritual Astarion?"

He lets out a small breath, like a tiny laugh.

"I don't know. I just wanted to feel like I meant something. I wanted to be something greater than this."

"You're already so extraordinary. I wish you could see that."

The vampire doesn't know what to say. How could he ever describe just how horrible he feels? He feels like nothing.

"Me too."

"You don't have to be some grand creature. You can just be Astarion."

"But who would ever respect that? A sad little boy, some meek vampire spawn with no master."

"I respect you."

"I didn't feel respected when you killed Cazador. You undermined me. You've never made me feel like that before, like I was less than you."

You start to cry again, putting a hand on his knee.

"I never wanted to make you feel less than, but I was so fucking scared. You were about to make a really bad decision."

"It just made me feel like you don't trust me."

"Of course I trust you, but it's easy for your view to become blinded when you're processing so much. Going back there, I know it was hard on you, and you wanted to take the easy way out, the path of least resistance."

His eyes meet yours.

"Would you be proud right now, if we were in that palace, if you had become the ascendant? Is that how you'd want to spend your days? Towering over people?"

"No. But at least no one could make me feel small again."

Astarion leans into your side, starting to let go, letting the emotions come and go.

"I know my love, I know you've been made to feel inferior your whole life, but it's over now. I won't ever let someone make you feel like that again."

"You- can't promise that."

"No, but I'll try my damnest."

You lay your head on his, and the two of you cry for a while, as strangers walk by, wondering what two adventurers are doing crying under a tree. Oh how little they know.

"You were right. To stop the ritual I mean. I think I was just angry with myself, how meek I felt."

"I still should've done it with your permission."

"You know how stubborn I am darling. I probably wouldn't have listened."

"I didn't give you a fair fight."

"Are we going to keep trading blame? Or can we just get to the part where we make up?"

You smile, wiping away a tear, and the two of you go in for a soft kiss.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. See? Easy, we're even now."

"How do you do that? Just, realize you were wrong and move on?"

"It's easy. Or, it's easy with you at least. You don't ever get truly upset unless something matters, and you're usually more grounded than me. I get out of hand quite easily you know."

"Oh trust me, I know."

Light laughs in the sun, a static day with no breeze, just the heat beating down on the townspeople. It's not perfect. The two of you both overstepped, but you love each other enough to work through it, to try and see the other point of view, even if it's after nasty arguments. The two of you are messy, but damn do you love messy. Especially if messy is a white-haired vampire, who you get to spend the rest of your life with once the Elder Brain is gone. You see it now, a big house, and more stupid shouting matches that you'll fix shortly after. The price you pay to be two people trying to learn how to love, learning how to live, freely.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #comfort #x reader

[lestappenforever]

With the Lestappen-overtaking-Maxiel situation going on: Could you maybe make a little recommendation list of your favourite Lestappen fics (can be yours and/or other people's)?

Hi anon!

I absolutely can, what a fitting celebration!

As I'm still working on a proper fic rec list as I keep reading more and more fics, below you will find a small selection of my all-time favorite fics - both to read and to write!

Full list of my all-time favorite fics that I have read and written below the cut!

My all-time favorite fics that I have read:

Monaco Malaise (part 1 of Temptation's Trajectory) by @cupidskissx Rated E | 8,037 words | Complete

Using the reflection in the mirror above the vanity, he steals occasional glances into the bedroom as he wets the cloth and cleans himself off. Charles is still on his forearms and knees, face buried in his pillow, he doesn’t look like he’s going to be moving any time soon.

Max and Charles have been hooking up for a few months, casually, no string attached — definitely no feelings involved… The disaster that was Monaco 2021 sees them in Charles’ apartment, with Max having to deal with the fact that Charles can’t get out of his head.

Azerbaijan Abnegation (part 2 of Temptation's Trajectory) by @cupidskissx Rated E | 16,972 words | Complete

Charles stares at him intently, “Last time was an anomaly.” Not for the first time, Max recalls the awkward swell of humiliation after Charles had told him to stop. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle at the memory of everything that followed, “Yeah, that better not happen again.”

After Monaco, Max thought he’d made up his mind about Charles, and their little arrangement. They’re in Azerbaijan and Charles is everywhere: in his head, in his messages, in his hotel room… Will Max be able to hold onto his resolve, or will his attempts at self-denial only prolong the inevitable?

Mona's comment: I have read these two fics more times than I can count, and I'm going to keep reading them again and again and again until the day I die. Loz is such an amazingly talented author, and her writing has honestly altered my brain chemistry numerous times.

you and me, just us (and your teammate sergio) by @oscar-fastri Rated T | 3,377 words | Complete

Checo was fully aware of what he’s walking into. Still, he seriously doubts that anyone could have been prepared for the full force of Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc being heads over heels in love with each other and not even trying to hide it.

Or: 5 times Checo thirdwheels Max and Charles + 1 time it's everyone else's turn

Mona's comment: This is the "You, me and your friend Steve" song in perfect fic format, and let me tell you the sound I made when Avery published it was not human.

The Nights Are Long (But It's Easier Together) by @f1writingbyme Rated E | 43,759 | Complete

“Oh, God, what is it?” Max groans. “It’s Mr. Corvetto, right? I knew it. I’m telling you, never move into an apartment next to elderly people. It’s just– Why does she call me? What the hell can I do? Doesn’t she need to call an ambulance or something? Or, I don’t know, her family, or–” “Max.” Charles interrupts Max’s ranting. He ends the phone call, cutting off Mrs. Corvetto’s panicked yelling with a simple press of his thumb. He stares at the blue-eyed man in front of him. “Your apartment is on fire.”

Or: The fire in his apartment is only the beginning of a long list of misfortunes that await Max. Fortunately, he has Charles by his side to help him through it. That is until Charles is the one that gets targeted.

Mona's comment: I don't even have words for this, it just needs to be read. WARNING: Prepare for heavy angst.

And That's How I Foksmashed Dad's Championship Trophy by @il-predestinato Rated T | 6,500 | Complete

All of that would have been forgivable if not for the Green-Eyed Monster’s complete disregard for the pre-contracted occupation rights of Max’s lap. Such rights had long been pre-determined and belonged to Sassy (and occasionally to Jimmy, she admitted begrudgingly). However, no amount of quiet hisses and vicious glares seemed to penetrate the creature’s thick skull, and he would greedily occupy Max’s thigh for more than 95% of any given afternoon. Sometimes with his head, sometimes with his feet, and a few times he even straddled his entire body over Max; the latter could not have been comfortable for Max, as the Green-Eyed Monster was enormously overweight compared to Sassy. (Jimmy had insisted that it was not nice to shame another living creature about their weight, but she was not wrong. With her compact size and considerably more reasonable mass, Sassy was confident that she was much more comfortable for Max to have on his lap than that horrendously oversized creature.)

Mona's comment: I have never read anything as great as this, and I don't think I'll ever read anything as great as this ever again. I want to move into Elle's brain and live there forever.

set my midnight sorrow free (part 1 of this is our place, we make the rules) by @il-predestinato Rated T | 13,439 words | Complete

He doesn’t blame Max, not really. If he could have Charles for one night, he would never let him go either. Maybe he isn’t the one who is losing; Max is also playing a losing game. You can’t open yourself to Charles and try to exist in his charmed life without becoming irrevocably enamoured. When Max let Charles walk into his motorhome, when he let Charles slip into his existence, Max didn’t know it then but the battle was already lost.

we don't know how to rhyme, but damn, we try (part 2 of this is our place, we make the rules) by @il-predestinato Rated M | 4,862 | Complete

He pulls back reluctantly and misses the warm mouth almost immediately. Stars, he was doomed. “I want this too,” he tells Charles. “I don’t believe you.” He can be so infuriating sometimes, so contrarian. Some day, he might actually make Max lose his mind.

even the sun sets in paradise (part 3 of this is our place, we make the rules) by @il-predestinato Rated T | 27,774 words | Complete

If he had to name the place where the story of Max and Charles began, if there was a moment that divided them into Before and After, there would be a few candidates. But there was only one correct answer. He would never forget the name. The place is called Val d’Argenton. Stories are still being written there. Charles likes to tell the story of the incident - turn by turn, infused with poetic drama, detailing every single emotion: frustration, anger, pure spite. Every time he tells it, his smile grows along with the laughter in his eyes, even as his words recount a tale of opposing emotions. “I never want to go back to Val d’Argenton,” Charles once confessed. “We’ll never go back there,” he promised, and Charles knew what he meant.

Mona's comment: This series is such a rollercoaster of emotion, and I don't think I'm still fully recovered from reading it the first time. Elle is a true genius in every way.

p19 by @sennaverstappen Rated E | 5,619 words | Complete

“Charles,” it comes out soft, worried, upset. Charles will light himself on fire. He hears Max take a few steps towards him, feels two warm, winning, arms wrap around his fast-breathing chest. He’s still wearing those golden shoes. Max snuggle into his neck. “I’m here for you.” And Max had won, and he’s winning the season, and he’s P19, and losing this season. And Max is winning, and he’s not even talking about it – choosing to comfort his Charles instead. Every little thought converges into a single, red-hot one. He’s going to fuck the pole sitter so hard he’ll be sore tomorrow. “Max,” he whimpers, trying to find his voice, find his grip, find his footing in this world. Max tightens his grip around his waist. “Yes, angel?” And he can feel Max frown against his nape, soft breath against his earlobe. It turns his body white-hot. “Get on the fucking bed.”

Mona's comment: This one is just *chef's kiss*. Mindblowing. Incredible. Just like its author.

My all-time favorite fics that I've written:

Devil's Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) (part 1 of Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) Rated E | 55,362 words | Complete

It all started with a crash. Well, technically, it started with a blue-eyed boy with blonde hair getting screamed at in a language he couldn’t understand when he was only 12 years old. He remembered looking at the boy, who couldn’t be much older than himself - (two weeks older, to be exact, he’d learn later) - and watching the spark disappear right out of those icy blue eyes. That was the first memory Charles Leclerc had of Max Verstappen: Watching Jos Verstappen, Max’s own father, scream at this 12 year old child with an intensity that turned his face red and made every blood vessel in his neck look dangerously close to bursting. But if anyone ever were to ask Charles when he started to realize that his feelings towards that same Max Verstappen he had known since childhood had begun to change into something else, something bigger, something terrifying he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - quite put his finger on, he would say that it all started with a crash. Because of fucking course it did.

OR: The slow-burn story of Lestappen that has brought me back from the dead, which starts with Max's crash at Silverstone in 2021.

Like Snow At The Beach (Weird But Fucking Beautiful) (part 2 of Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) Rated E | 17,064 words | Completed

The wedding of Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen was always going to be a grand affair. Not necessarily because it had been either man’s dream to make a big deal out of getting married, but simply because they knew so many fucking people. And because Charles had mentioned once — in passing, ages ago, long before Max went down on one knee and proposed — that he had driven past a property in Italy he’d found so beautiful that he’d had to stop the car in order to have a proper look, and that upon walking through the grounds of the property, he’d found himself thinking it would have been the perfect venue for a wedding. Max had been hellbent on finding out which property that was ever since.

OR: The lavish wedding sequel to "Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes)" that you've all been (hopefully) waiting for.

Stop (You're Losing Me) (part 3 of Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) Rated E | 6,399 words | Completed

And now, here they are, with Charles feeling like he’s the only one making any sort of effort to keep their marriage healthy and happy outside of race weekends. He never would have imagined being married to Max could end up feeling so lonely. Another two hours pass before Max comes out into the living room, where Charles is sitting on the couch with a bowl of Andrea-and-Brad approved pad thai from their favorite takeout place just down the street, rewatching Money Heist for what has to be the tenth time. Max stops at the end of the couch, frowning down at the Monégasque. “I thought we were going out for dinner?” Charles looks up at him, face expressionless. “We were.” Max points at the bowl. “But you ordered takeout?” “I did.” “Why?” “Because our reservation was two hours ago, babe, and I was hungry.”

OR: Max and Charles have been married for 3 years, and it turns out marriage isn't always beautiful. Sometimes, it's ugly and tiring and painful.

Mona's comment: This series is what got me back into writing after a 7-year long hiatus from fic writing, and I treasure this series so much because it's what got me to make a Tumblr blog again and fully embrace the F1 fandom after being into F1 for 20 years.

19 Times The Grid Saved Lestappen (And One Time They Didn't Need To) (part 1 of Lestappen + The Grid) co-written with @f1writingbyme Rated M | 16,107 words | Complete

In that exact moment, all Charles wants to do is grab a hold of the front of Max’s stupid Red Bull polo and pull him into a kiss. He’s just about to do it, too, when a pen comes flying out of fucking nowhere, hitting Max smack dab in the face. It brings them both out of their little bubble, and Charles turns to see Lando standing a good distance away from them, already in the process of yeeting another pen in their direction. Charles reaches out to catch it before it can hit Max again, putting his reflexes to good use. Next to Lando, Carlos nods his approval at the catch. “Lando, what the hell?”

OR: Keeping Charles and Max from accidentally outing themselves to the whole world is becoming a full-time job. and Lando decides to enlist the entire grid to help him out.

18 Times Lestappen Tried To Hide Their Relationship (And One Time They Failed) (part 2 of Lestappen + The Grid) co-written with @f1writingbyme

Charles is pretty sure he is going to die of a heart attack at the age of only twenty-six because of all the sneaking around and almost getting caught every time. The only positive thing they have going for them is that they haven't been caught yet. How that's possible, Charles isn't sure, but he thinks it might have something to do with the fact that their friends either aren't paying much attention or are just plain stupid. Charles secretly hopes it's the last one. But of course, luck is not on Charles’ side, as one Mr. Lando Norris, tucked away in the safety of his driver's room on the other side of the paddock, is typing away on his phone.

How (Not) To Third Wheel Lestappen co-written with @f1writingbyme Rated T | 10,344 words | Complete (for now)

Lance doesn’t know which of his emotions is more overpowering; the secondhand embarrassment he feels at how blatantly obvious they’re being, or the fact that watching Max and Charles in their own little world is actually kind of cute. He realizes it’s the secondhand embarrassment as he watches Max shamelessly grin at James and proudly explain that he was just talking to Charles. Lance has to resist the urge to roll his eyes, especially when he notices how Charles is quite literally the embodiment of the heart eyes emoji where he’s standing next to Max for his entire interview. And the beeline Charles makes for Max as soon as he hands the microphone to Lance after his P2 interview is even worse than the heart eyes. He definitely should have been paying attention to that group chat, Jesus fucking Christ.

OR: There is a WhatsApp support group chat on how to deal with being top 3 with Max and Charles. Lance hasn't been paying attention to it at all, and lives to regret it. And then others suffer at the hands of Lestappen as well.

Mona's comment: Writing fics with Ilse is one of my favorite things in the world to do, and I can't even begin to describe how much fun it is to write all our Lestappen + the grid fics.

The Wonders of Valentine's Day (Or Whatever) Rated E | 9,933 words | Complete

Max, having completely lost the ability to speak, just stares at the sight before him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. What the actual fuck? “Hi?” Max phrases it like a question. Charles grins at him. “Hello,” he greets, and Max watches as the grin fades away as Charles’ gaze moves down Max’s body, one eyebrow lifting. It’s only then Max realizes that he never put on pants after his shower, and is standing there in his bright orange Netherlands jersey and black boxers. It takes every ounce of his willpower not to let the internal panic he’s currently experiencing show on his face.

OR: Max isn't a fan of Valentine's Day. Charles is a menace on a mission to change that. Naturally.

Mona's comment: This was just a self-indulgant fic I wrote due to my own dislike towards Valentine's Day, but let me tell you, I had a blast from start to finish while writing this.

The Seasons of Heartbreak co-written with @f1writingbyme Rated T | 14,075 words | Complete

As the ‘I can’t do this anymore’ slipped from his lips, Charles missed his exit and continued straight ahead, unable to fully see the exit sign through his tears. The tears fill his eyes as quickly now as they had done in his car that day, and Charles finds himself realizing that he hasn’t felt happiness since. Not even once.

OR: When two men are hurting from a break-up, they can only use each other to make it right again. But they have to realize that first.

OR: The seasons of heartbreak, seen through the eyes of both Max and Charles.

Mona's comment: The sheer amount of tears shed while writing this, my God.

#Asks #Anon asks #Lestappen fic recs anons #Lestappen fics #Lestappen fic recs

[laura1633]

a drabble of charles wanting to be in maxs lap? :)

Hi anon, thank you for the ask ♥️. I took it in a bit of a cutesy silly direction so hopefully that is okay, I was just in the mood to write a nice cute drabble today.

------

Charles isn’t jealous of a cat. 

He isn’t. That would be ridiculous. 

Except Sassy is currently snuggled in Max’s lap and taking up the space where Charles would normally choose to perch himself. The Dutchman is cooing softly and giving Sassy little pets on the top of her head and the sound of her purrs are filling the room. Charles scrunches his nose up and tries not to think about how loudly he would be purring if Max was gently petting him and running his large hands through his hair. 

“Has she been fed?” Charles asks curiously, it’s not exactly his finest hour but if Sassy is due a feed then that is a sure fire way to get her up and off where she is curled up against Max’s soft thick thighs. 

“She’s been fed, haven’t you Sassy?” Max coos as he looks down at Sassy and smiles lovingly at her. 

“Okay” Charles nods and tries not to get paranoid about the fact that Sassy is now glaring at him, the last thing he wants is to get into a battle of wits against a cat.

“You look cute like that” Max hums and Charles feels his heart skip as he realises Max is in fact talking to him this time and not Sassy, “You should wear my clothes all the time” 

Charles flutters his eyelashes in his boyfriend’s direction as he tugs on the large hooded top he has borrowed from the Dutchman. It’s warm and fleecy inside so he’s just paired it with a nice tight pair of boxer briefs. 

“You going to come and cuddle up then?” Max grins as he pats the space on the couch next to him. It’s not exactly where Charles wants to place himself though, he very much wants to clamber right on to Max’s lap and melt right up against his boyfriend’s body. 

Sassy looks territorial though. 

Charles cautiously makes his way and over and remembers to coo softly at the little fluffy menace that is currently staring him down and clearly laying claim to Max. 

“Did you just have a shower?” Max asks as Charles takes a seat, “You smell of coconut” 

Charles grins, at least he smells better than Sassy - she’s been rolling around in the dirt all day, the only thing Charles has been rolling about in is in bed earlier this morning with Max. The Monegasque settles down as closely to Max as he dares and leans in bravely to rest his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Luckily Sassy doesn’t hiss this time but Charles can see her eyeing him with suspicion.

“Oh look, it’s her boyfriend!” Charles proclaims excitedly as he sees the large tabby cat from next-door stood outside on the patio. Right on cue there’s a loud meowing that can be heard even from the other side of the glass door and Sassy snaps her head up immediately to look over. 

It’s not Charles’ proudest moment but he feels a huge sense of victory as Sassy jumps up off of Max’s lap and bounds over to the door. The Monegasque almost trips in his haste to let her out. It’s not that he doesn’t like her, he does (kind of), he’s just not sure she is too keen on him yet. As she struts outside she starts nuzzling up against the large tabby cat before trotting off with him presumably to go snuggle up. 

Which is precisely was Charles also intends to do. The Monegasque turns on his heels and tries not to skip too happily as he sees Max’s muscled thighs ready and waiting for him to crawl on to. 

Max hums happily the second Charles clambers into his lap. The Dutchman’s hands glide up the inside of the hooded top Charles is wearing and sooth up and down the Monegasque’s back before settling just above his hips.

Charles does indeed purr. Or at least makes a happy soft little vibrating sound as Max’s palms rest against his skin. The Monegasque snuggles in as close as he can as he leans his body weight up against the broadness of Max’s chest and buries his head right into the crook of the Dutchman’s neck. 

Max gives the best hugs, Charles is just annoyed it took him so many years to discover that.

“You nice and comfy?” Max asks as he wraps Charles up tighter in his arms. 

The Monegasque nods before tipping his head up so he can pepper some much deserved kisses up Max’s jaw and lips.

It’s perfect.

Charles grins to himself as he settles down for the evening all wrapped up warm on his boyfriend’s lap.  It’s the most comfortable spot in the whole house. Max is muscled and broad enough to make Charles feel nice and delicate as he sits atop his thighs. But Max is also soft and curvy and nice and squishy to rest against. Charles likes to call it the perfect balance - a soft but muscled body - the absolute best of both worlds. 

Charles fully intends to stay where he is snuggled up for the rest of the night. 

Charles 1 :  Sassy 0 

#Lestappen #lestappen drabble #anon asks

[yan-lorkai]

Hello! I have a Black butler request if you don’t mind! (It can be yandere but If you can make it not to noticeable??? If that makes sense.)

If I may could I request a Ciel Phantomhive x Cruella De Vill reader? I mean not exactly like Cruella but the fact she was born with hair spilt between black and white, she owns multiple Dalmatians which are really aggressive guard dogs for her. And she has a wonderful sense of fashion, even though most her clothes are only black, white or red. She even has a nickname that combines her name and Cruel together (like “Cruel-(/N)”) because she can be really honest and it comes off as rude. She is short temper but unlike Cruella she is only occasionally sassy but most of the time she is quiet because she used to get made fun of for her hair.

Also I was hoping it would be a oneshot, with a few hc. But if that’s to much it can just be hc! Thank you and have a nice day!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I hope I did this rq justice because I absolutely loved it. Detailed rqs my beloveds. As you ask, I did some hcs and then wrote a little drabble, though I do apologize for such delay in answer it. Hope you like darling <33

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Platonic content. Maybe typos too.

☆*: In Ciel's ears, the news of a figure with two-tone hair who only dresses in black and red reaches him through gossip that Lau felt the need to share. The rumors, however, were not enough to capture the earl's attention at first. Who cares if Londoners are talking about this girl because she acts different and has a sharp tongue? Who cares if she has some protective dogs who can attack on command?

☆*: Certainly not Ciel. He has better things to worry about being the Queen's Watchdog besides running his own company. Gossip and rumors are not something that holds his attention unless they are related to the murderers who killed his parents.

☆*: So it takes a while before you finally get to know each other and he can get a glimpse of your strong genius. And heavens, he's enchanted, even if he doesn't know it, feelings aren't Ciel's thing. One thing he knows, this night will be one he would never forget.

...

Reluctantly, Ciel was participating in the celebration. A glass of juice in his hand as he watched each of the nobles approach the throne, kneel and say their rehearsed congratulations. So typical of nobles, so insincere. He hated it here, he could be doing so many things right in the comfort of his office. Still, he smiled and played his part when all adults around him looked down on him just because he was the only child here.

The starry night became filled with light and laughter; The Queen was throwing a party to celebrate another birthday well spent. Her age-kissed skin was still glowing, her eyes carrying a tinge of unforgettable joy, and her voice a jovial tone. As usual, she sat on her throne and waited for one by one the nobles to greet and boast about the gifts that were certainly better than the others.

It was funny to watch though. They all just seemed like jealous peacocks, huffing and puffing their feathers, wanting the queen attention on them.

Sebastian when can we leave? was what he wanted to ask to the butler at his side. What he almost asked. But right at that moment he heard a commotion.

A few meters ahead stood the notorious Cru-y/n DeVil, your presence commanding attention. Ciel couldn't help but be drawn to you, his gaze fixating on you with a mixture of intrigue and caution. Despite your reputation, he couldn't deny your beauty, a striking contrast to the darkness that surrounded your name. You were young, much like himself, yet exuded a confidence that belied your age, almost as if you too had to grown fast to protect yourself.

You seemed to be fighting a much older and powerful woman. The duchess who was always looking to fight someone and today had just found her new victim. But you aren't having any of that, making exaggerated gestures and smiling mockingly at the duchess.

Ciel observed the scene with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, at least the party turned out to be entertaining with this little fight happening and the queen was also watching you two too intently, curious, not at all bothered by it. Ciel couldn't help but roll his eyes when the duchess continued to argue and pointed her finger at you.

"Your hat is adorable" You say in a loud and clear tone, with the sweetest smile you can produce. "I'm sure it was worth sacrificing Big Bird, its poor beautiful yellow feathers wasted on this hat that perfectly fit your head."

A murmur starts around the two of you, some are laughing loudly, others are whispering among themselves, repeating what you said. The duchess, wanting to appear strong and resilient, fixes her khaki yellow hat - that barely fits in her head, lifts her chin an extra millimeter and leaves. However, Ciel knew that your comment would still haunt her for months to come. Today she had lost a fight and was insulted.

Undeniable was that the hat was horrendous.

Holding back a laugh that seems to want to escape him anyway, Ciel takes off his hat in greeting to you as soon as your eyes meet. He understood now why everyone was talking about you so much. To the court you were like a fresh breath of air, devastating if you hate it, great if you like it. And he absolutely like it. Not a lot of younger aristocrats behave this way and he really needs someone different to spend time, as Elizabeth is quite overwhelming with her affection and Sullivan is busy.

He approach you and with this gesture, plans to know more about you. He is now curious and his curiosity must be satisfied.

#yandere ciel #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere ciel x reader #yandere ciel phantomhive x reader #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere black butler #ciel phantomhive x reader #ciel x reader #kuroshitsuji ciel phantomhive #ciel phantomhive #fem reader #female reader #lorkai imagine

[gizmo-writes]

stubborn | spencer reid

warnings: being held hostage by an unsub, torture in the form of slapping, tasers and hair pulling, reader is very stubborn and sassy, spencer is a bit mean i apologize, spencer calls you not smart, being called names like stupid and brat, idk what else

I really wanna write a part 2 about the aftermath so let me know if you wanna see that

"Guys! Guys! I got something!" Garcia rushed into the conference room, setting her laptop on the table and turning on the tv. There you were, completely out of it, obviously with the way your head lolled back. You were heated up, bruised badly and your head was bleeding but you were obviously so out of it that you didn't even notice. "Where is this coming from?" Hotch asked as Garcia shook her head, "I-I don't know, it's pinging off to many towers, whoever is doing this is- is using so many different encryptions and firewalls." (genuinely don't know tech terminology im so sorry if this took y'all out of it I apologize) She was shaking, so worried about you she wasn't sure she could think straight.

Spencer was the same way, but he knew he couldn't think straight. The way you looked, where you were, reminded him so much of how Tobias Hankle had treated him. Every single aspect that he had tried so hard to forget was coming back to him now. The abuse, the drugs, the cravings. He held onto the chair with an iron grip, knuckles turning white. He didn't want to see you like this, he didn't like the thoughts running through his head right now. He didn't wanna see the abuse you were going to endure, he didn't want to hear your tortured screams. This was his own form of torture.

You really couldn't feel anything but you figured that was for the better. Your head rolled to the side, your eyes were open but everything was so blurry you couldn't even see. You could make up an outline of someone, someone tall. For a moment you felt joy, you felt safety. "Spence?" You said. But it wasn't spencer, he was on the other side of a screen and when he heard his name, his heart broke. He wanted to be able to yell at you, tell you that it wasn't him, tell you to run even if you weren't sure if your legs could move. But he couldn't, he just had to sit there and watch.

"Not quite," The man said, walking closer to you so you could see him. Your eyes narrowed as you realized the man in front of you truly wasn't Spencer and was in fact some psycho. You jerked in your restraints, trying to punch whoever was in front of you but yet you couldn't move. "Good try," he chuckled coldly. "Jesus christ," you murmured, looking down to see your hands tied to the chair. "You're begging for someone who doesn't exist honey," the man said. You rolled your eyes at that, "seriously? Why do you care if I beg for someone you don't believe in? Besides i wasn't begging I was-" You were cut off with a sharp slap to your face.

Spencer really wished you weren't so catty sometimes. Sure, he liked it sometimes, especially when you were able to stick up for yourself or him when someone said something rude. But right now he was begging you to keep your mouth shut. "Was that really necessary? You could've just told me to shut up-" once again you were slapped again. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled at you. "Okay!" You yelled back. Spencer cringed, "why won't she just be quiet," he groaned. "Spence, she's trying-" JJ started but Spence stopped her, "I don't care what she was trying! She knows better than to fight back when she's unable to physically fight! All this will do is get her in more trouble!" He said, slamming his fist on the table as he watched you. "Kid, she's a smart girl." Derek tried to say but spencer shook his head, "She's not being smart right now." He said.

Spencer was right, you weren't being smart and deep down you knew that but god, you were so fucking angry. Angry at yourself, angry at the man in front of you. You don't even remember how you were taken, you don't remember what you did for this to happen, all you knew is it had to somehow be your fault. "Finally, she shuts up," the man said, grabbing your face and making you look up at him. "You're much prettier when you're quiet. Does your boyfriend ever tell you that? I bet he does because you can never seem to just shut the fuck up," he spat. You clenched your jaw at the mention of Spencer. "How the Fuck do you know about my boyfriend?" You asked, looking up at him angrily. "Why? Does that bother you when I mention him? Does it make you angry that i know about him?" He asked, squeezing your face to the point that it hurt. "Don't fucking touch him," you spat at him making the man pull back and wipe his space of your spit. "God, you're really fucking dumb aren't you?" He said. "Still smarter than you," you said.

Spencer couldn't watch this, he couldn't watch you dig yourself into a hole that he wasn't sure you'd come out alive. His jaw clenched as he watched you be tased, your head falling back as you cried out in pain. "Oh my god," Garcia said, shielding her eyes. Spencer forced himself to watch, he had to know, he had to see what happened so he would know how to help you when you got back. He needed to know, despite the fact that these images would be engrained in his brain forever.

"This isn't helping, we need to figure out where she is and I don't know how watching this will help." JJ spoke, half tired of watching you be tortured and half wanting to actually find you. "I don't see anything identifying in the background, no windows, no pictures." Emily pointed out. "She might say something if she knew he was filming. She may know where she is." Derek pointed out. "She can barely even see straight and with how much she's talking she might not even make it through the night," Spencer muttered. "Spence!" JJ said. "What?! I'm right! I love her but she never shuts the fuck up and right now it may cause her death but yet she's still too fucking stubborn to just shut the fuck up and pay attention," He spat. He was angry, he had every right to be. but his anger was misdirected at you. He was mad at the unsub, mad that a man took you and was holding you hostage and torturing you. He wasn't mad at you, a bit annoyed but never mad.

"Spencer, you are not helping us right now. We understand you're mad but you have no right to talk about her like that." JJ said. Spencer just shook his head, jaw clenching. "As much as you may hate this Reid, we need you. And what we need is for you to watch, to listen, see if her or she says something that may give us a hint. Can you do that? Or do I need to kick you out?" Emily asked, giving him a pointed look. "I understand, i Can do that." He said through gritted teeth. He finally sat down and just stared at the tv. He was thankful you couldn't hear him, he genuinely felt bad about what he said but he couldn't even apologize to you because you weren't here.

Your head fell forward after being tased multiple times finally stopped. "Will you be quiet now?" The man asked. You nodded, reluctantly. You wanted to speak but you were in so much pain you couldn't. You were shaking, you couldn't even move your head with how tired your body was. "Good, finally." He said, "now you can get a good look at this." The man said as he walked behind you. He grabbed your head roughly by your hair, pulling your head back to look up. You tried to focus your eyes but you couldn't, everything was so blurry and your head had started to hurt. "Do you see that? They can see you. They're watching. God, that's what makes this fun, knowing they're watching you but they can't do anything to help. Isn't that fun?" He asked. You didn't respond and obviously that made him angry. He yanked your head back by your hair making you let out a pathetic cry. "Answer me," he demanded. "Thought you didn't want me to talk?" You said tiredly. "You're a fucking brat you know that? I don't know how anyone puts up with you." He let go of your hair and your head fell forward once again.

Spencer closed his eyes tightly, breathing heavily. This was torture for him and now he knew the unsub was enjoying it. The unsub knew this wasn't only torture for you but for them too and he loved it. He hated every second of this, he hated every time you opened your mouth. It pained him, he knew you were angry, it didn't take a profiler to see that, but he just couldn't understand why you wouldn't stop talking back.

"I have to go out, you stay put okay?" He said, pushing your hair out of your face. It was oddly tender coming from a man who had just slapped you, tased you and pulled your hair and not in the enjoyable way. "Gotta make sure you look pretty for your boyfriend," he said. He then grabbed his keys and left. You couldn't think straight, everything was setting in so slowly. They were watching, you kept having to repeat that to yourself till you would believe it was true. You tried to lift your head but it just fell back down. You groaned, angry at yourself that you couldn't even look at the camera. You had something to tell them, you had seen the unsubs face and they hadn't. He wore a black ski mask around you and know you knew why, he had been filming this.

"B-bl-blue eyes," you spoke slowly, tiredly. You needed to get this out before you passed out again. Spencer raised his head to watch you. "H-he has blue eyes and brown hair." You had to stop to breathe. "S-scar on his face, left side on his cheek. P-please understand I am okay, i am strong," you croaked out. Your voice was betraying you and you hated it. It made you angry, making you clench your fists. "I can take It.. i-i don't know where I am.. it's the woods- i-I don't remember how I got here. Please- just find me," you closed your eyes tightly trying to hold back your tears. You dug your nails into the wood of the chair trying to calm yourself and ground yourself. Spencer had to stop himself from crying too, "Garcia, did you get that?" He asked. "Yes- yes I did. I'm looking. I'm searching. Uh blue eyes, dark hair, scar- uh- Jeffery Golden," She said looking at Spencer. "Name and address?" JJ asked. "Sending now," Garcia said. The team stood up and were quick to leave, Spencer included.

Garcia kept watch on you, once the team left she broke down and started crying. She had to constantly remind herself that you were okay but it was hard, especially when she was watching you fall apart in front of her eyes. They found the man, Jeffery Golden. But the problem was, you weren't there, you weren't in his house nor his job. You weren't there and that scared the shit out of Spencer. They had the man but no clue where you were and if they didn't find you soon, you may not survive due to your injuries. Sure, he could see the ones on the outside but he wasn't sure about any internal bleeding.

"Where is she?" Rossi asked the unsub who was sitting across the table from him. "Now where's the fun in telling you?" He asked, smirk playing in his face. "If you tell us where she is, we will tell them you cooperated. Now tell us where she is." Hotch said in his demanding tone. "Where's the boyfriend? I wanna talk to him," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Absolutely not, you tell us where she is and maybe we will talk about a deal." Rossi said. "Here's my deal, you let me talk to the doctor and then I'll tell you where she is." He said, still smirking.

With that Hotch and Rossi walked out. "Let me in there," Spencer immediately said. "No, we don't know if he's being honest," Hotch said. "That doesn't matter, if he's willing to talk then I should go in there." Spencer said. "He just wants to mess with you Reid, he has said it himself that he enjoys this." Rossi said. "I don't care, this is our only chance. Please just let me talk to him. Please," Spencer begged. Hotch shook his head, "Fine, but the second it goes wrong I will pull you out of there." He said. Spencer nodded before walking into the room.

"There he is, the stunning Dr. Spencer Reid." The unsub said, relaxing in his seat as Spencer and Hotch walked in. "How are you? How have you been?" He asked but no one spoke. Hotch sat down, "Reid," he said. Spencer stared at the guy as he sat down. "Oof, someone is angry, how can you truly be angry over someone like her? If anything I think she needs this. Someone needs to teach her to keep her mouth shut, arent I right, Dr. Reid?" He asked. Spencer was unwavering, showing no emotion. "Where is she?" Was all he asked. "Oh come on, give me something Spence! I know you think of her the same way I do. An annoying brat who has never learned to shut the fuck up and look where it got her. She needed to learn her lesson." He stated. Still he remained emotionless. "You said if we brought him in here, you would tell us where she is." Spencer said. "I said that and I may have lied. But come on, admit it. You hate her just like I do." He said. Spencer slammed his fists on the table, "I love her! Tell me where she is!" He yelled. Hotch stood up, "Reid, out," he said sternly. "No, Hotch he fucking knows where-" Hotch cut him off, "Out!" He said louder this time. Finally, Spencer listened and left the room. "I got something! Y/n said something about the woods so I looked into him-" Garcia was speaking fast but still Hotch stopped her, "Garcia," he said. "I think I have an address." Garcia said. She then immediately sent the address to the team and they were quick to be on their way.

Spencer was the first to find you, of course he was. He was on a mission and the mission was finding you. "Y/n, y/n, im here," he said, grabbing your face gently and pulling you up to look at him. You groaned in response as JJ undid your cuffs. "Look at me, tell me you hear me, please," Spencer begged. "You're so loud," you muttered, giving him a weak smile as your eyes slowly opened. God, it was good to see his face. "I know, im loud, i talk a lot, I worry, but god, im so happy you're okay," Spencer said, stroking your face. "I wouldn't say I was okay," you spoke so softly spencer could barely even hear you. But for once, he was so happy to hear your sass. "I know, the ambulance is coming. We'll get you checked out and you'll be okay." He said. He was the only thing keeping you from freaking out, from worry about the extensive list of injuries you'd have. It just felt so good to be in his hands again that you didn't care about your pain or injuries.

The ambulance showed up but god you were grateful. You felt so close to passing out and you didn't want to. You wanted to see Spencer, you wanted to remember his face just like he could remember yours. You wanted to memorize him, you wanted to love him. "Hey, it's okay, I'm still here." Spencer said as he held your hand in the ambulance. "Spence?" Your voice was soft and hard to hear through the oxygen mask. You pulled it down with your shaking hand. "Hey, no, no, you need that," Spencer said, trying to put it back but you shook your head. "N-no, im so sorry. Im sorry i talk too much. I'm sorry I did this-" Spencer shook his head, "No, you didn't do this, this wasn't your fault." He said, trying to comfort you. "Yes it was Spence, I talk to much, I made him hurt me because I can't shut up. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll learn, i promise," you began to cry. You tried to be strong but you knew you couldn't. No amount of sass would mask just how hurt you were.

Spencer hated this, no matter how many times he would say it, you would never believe it wasn't your fault. No matter what he would say, you would never be yourself again. You wouldn't be able to be sassy again, you wouldn't be as stubborn as you was. And he'd miss it, he'd miss every second of it. Every second of you talking back to him, every second of you being too stubborn to stay back with Garcia, he'd miss every single second of it and it broke him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n

[annymation]

My Thoughts On Wish Deleted Scenes

Now that we got all the deleted scenes out, I thought it would be fun to share my thoughts on them... Mostly rant, yeah, I might get pretty heated with this heheh but it'll be fun.

Villain Couple

So let's begin with my personal favorite, the villain couple that we could've had

I am literally scared with how I nailed their characterization in my rewrite, like, that's them, that's King Magnus (Magnifico) of Rosas and Amaya (Amable) of Rosas right there. The dramatic, power hungry dude that can barely control his temper + a cunning, calm and collected queen that thinks before acting but is just as vicious as him.

AND THEY CALL EACH OTHER SO MANY PET NAMES! SHE CALLED HIM "GOOD BOY"!!! HE PULLED HER FOR A ROMANTIC DANCE UGHHH DISNEY YOU TOOK THEM FROM MEEEE!!!

Now let's talk about... WHY this was scrapped, according to Mark Kennedy, the head of story in Wish, he says in the Behind the Scenes documentary that the reason they changed this, and I quote:

"We didn't want people to know Magnifico was evil right away, we wanted the people of Rosas to love Magnifico, and have only Asha realize he's not as good as he seems"

... Okay? That's not a reason to not make him SECRETLY evil, just have the rebels be like a group of people who are considered ungrateful weirdos by the people of Rosas, and the king spreads rumors that they're a threat, since they think NO ONE should get their wishes granted. So we have Asha being part of this rebellion, that doesn't fully know what Magnifico does with the wishes, but they know he's doing something bad, so it's up to Asha to find proof and open the eyes of the citizens of Rosas who love Magnifico, easy.

"Also it serve the story better to have Amaya be a good person"

Why? Because she distracted Magnifico and told them about the pulleys they needed to open the castle's ceiling? Just have one of Asha's MANY FRIENDS be a spy of the rebels that became close to the king and queen, maybe the king's apprentice, let's say Safi, and he tells them that info and also distracts them if needed, there, no need for good queen.

This one is the cheery on top, are you guys ready? I don't think you are, but here goes... "Additionally we couldn't really answer the question of why Magnifico wanted a star, and what it would do for him."

............................. I don't know if I can put into words how ENRAGED this make me feel, but I will try.

Mark, my guy, I'm sure you're a lovely person, but I know for a fact that you are lying. Because in a room full of professional screen writers THAT MADE IT TO DISNEY there's absolutely NO WAY no one stepped in and said "Oh but why does the villain want power though?"... THAT'S LIKE ASKING WHY JAFAR WANTED THE LAMP OR WHY URSULA WANTED THE TRIDENT!!!! HE'S A VILLAIN!!! VILLAINS ALWAYS WANT POWER!!!

"Oh buT MaGNiFicO Is DiFfERRenT bEcAuSE He'S A kINg sO He alREadY HaS pOWeR" SO WHAT??? Villains are never satisfied! Magnifico says it himself in the deleted scene

"I can't take it, this wanting that is never satisfied"

THERE! That's your villain motivation, he wants to fill a cup with no bottom, he wants more and more than he already has! Which makes him a PERFECT FOIL to Asha, because Asha wishes for more to her people, because they indeed are struggling, she wants what they need! And she'll fight for it, while Magnifico will only lie, cheat and steal his way into more power! GAAAAH IT WOULD BE SUCH A NEAT CONFLICT I'M GOING FERAL!

Anyway, on to the next one

Wishing Tree

Deleted Sabino my beloved, you only get one scene in my rewrite, Tiana's father style, but I love you so much you sassy old man

I love this concept of the wishing tree so much, because this is actually a tradition here where I'm from, we take colorful ribbons, think of a wish, and tie them on a tree.

Would be lovely if Wish showed many types of different traditions of wishing besides just wishing stars, like blowing dandelions, throwing a coin down a well and soon.

But I digress, Asha has such an inspiring personality here, her writings show how she's fierce, longing for adventure

SHE HAS KNACK FOR SWEARING LMAO

She has an undying hope in her, and she wonders if it'll take Magnifico to DIE for her people to be free to wish, this is amazing, this is what I wrote my Asha into in Kingdom of Wishes

@uva124 joked the other day saying I might secretly be one of the disney writers just pretending to be a fan and sharing the original script, guys I swear that's not the case, they just communicated with me telepathically.

Jokes aside, this scene is so beautiful, Asha had everything to be an amazing protagonist.

Now for what Mark said in the documentary... Oh boy...

"The people of Asha's village keep their wishes a secret, and don't say them out loud, because if they do Magnifico will find their wishes"

Now THIS is very interesting, making Magnifico this almost omnipresent threat that even if you just SAY what you desire he might hear with his magic, maybe with a crystal ball or something Idk but regardless this is a great way to make him aware of who Asha is.

Cause think about it, Asha does make a wish, upon a star, so Magnifico would probably feel that wish, and thus he'd know Asha is the one who summoned a wishing star, so the chase would begin.

Heck, with this concept he could manipulate Asha into giving away star by promising that if she did so all her people would be free and he'd stop eating wishes all together because he wouldn't need more power anymore, obviously that'd be a lie, but it would make Asha have to choose between taking the easy way out and giving away her friend/love interest in exchange of her wish coming true, or risk it all and protecting him at all cost, ya know, a internal conflict.

"We wanted people to love Magnifico, and Asha to be the only one who finds out about his true evil nature, that way, when she tries to tell people, nobody believes her, and that's make fighting him much harder for her"

See Mark, that's a good idea, thing is, that's not what happened... Asha didn't try to tell people, and the times she did tell her family that Magnifico would never grant their wishes, they DID believe her, and Sabino got mad she wanted to tell him his wish. And when she told her friends, they didn't question her much about the fact she challenged the king, Dahlia just rolled with it like it was no big deal...

So yeah it would've been great if Asha tried to spread the truth but people didn't believe her, it really would, but that's not quite what we got

Star and Asha Chase Scene

And there it is, the closest thing we'll ever get of Star Boy, and I love him

Star can take shape of any animal in this version, and that made him too similar to Maui and the genie, well, dear Disney, riddle me this, why didn't you just scrap the idea of him being a shapeshifter? There are many ways for a being to embody magic and creativity that don't involve them turning into animals, maybe have them be- oh I don't know- ANIMATED IN 2D???

"The ability to change into anything made star very powerful"

Here's an idea, make Magnifico MORE powerful than star, by making forbidden magic Star's weakness

"We wanted Asha to be our hero, and we wanted her to solve all her problems by herself, without too much help from star"

Bruh, Walt Disney said himself "You can design and create, and bild the most wonderful place in the world. But it takes people to make that dream a reality" Asha could NOT do this on her own, and that doesn't make her weak or less of a hero, it just means the threat was too big.

And if she was the one who had to make her wish come true, GREAT, just use Blue Fairy logic, she couldn't make Pinocchio a real boy right away, all she did was give him life so he could pursue that himself, same could happen to Asha, star gives her some magical intervention, but he can't do everything for her.

Also let me just say, that interaction between Asha and Star?

"Star we'll have to be very discreet" "Discreet? Got it, sounds like another plan, I'm getting pretty good at this planning stuff" "Uh you know what would help that plan? If you weren't so bright" "Oh-hoho thank you!- oh wait, you mean-" "Shinny, glowy, way too much light, turn it down"

I can SEE KOW!Asha and Aster having this exact same interaction!

And then that scene Star holds her hand under water! Bruh don't tell me they wouldn't be a thing Disney!

And all the sea creatures coming together to make a big spectacle, THAT felt like Disney magic, that WHALE!!!

That would've been so beautiful to see fully animated.

In The Dungeon

Can't believe that I also wrote a scene of the 7 teens and Asha going to the dungeon before this scene came out, like, it's such an specific scenario

Anyway, so once again we see this better version of Asha, that is caring, smart and inspiring.

And Magnifico being a freaking DESPICABLE monster, saying that Dahlia is a burden that no one would miss because of her disability, like DANG that's something I never considered writing because it's so heavy, but they almost did include it, and I think it would've been great to show just how evil he is, and in turn, how amazing Asha is because of what she says next

"He underestimates you, and that's a good thing. When you're underestimated, they don't see your power coming until after it changed the world"

Thank you Wish deleted scenes, I'mma take this line and fit it in my rewrite somehow cause WOW imagine that, the 100th disney princess teaching something very valuable for children of today!

Think of all the disabled kids that would've felt seen in this scene! Instead Dahlia's disability is more of an after thought, and from what I've read, the way she walks doesn't even seem like she's disabled according to some crutch users.

"Also, Asha already had 7 friends, and we thought adding another one was too many"

I agree Mark, so here's a thought, make ONE OF THE 7 TEENS the apprentice that gets locked up in the dungeon, like Safi for example, and they find him by hearing him sneeze! There, suddenly the character whose only personality is sneezing get's something to do!

Magnifico breaking the wishes of people "No one would miss" is actually a thing in my rewrite, I didn't explore it that much cause it wasn't that important, but I'm glad I also got that right

Star was more useful in this clip than he was in the whole movie

Climax

Not much to say about this one, hot take, but I'm actually glad this one was changed, sure I like Magnifico eating a bunch of the wishes to get more powerful, but personally I'm not a fan of him turning into a giant muscular monster, but I understand if you're into that.

Though, it's still a funny scene, it's silly yeah, but it's definitely entertaining, which is more than what I can say about the movie

Also Valentino is cute here

I like how Magnifico uses the wishes to shine a spotlight on Asha

This face, lmao

"THATS JUST A GOAT!"

The thing about this scene though is that... I can't imagine where they were going with this, like, then what? Magnifico climbs the tower to get star and Star manages to defeat him somehow? If so then yeah no wonder you deleted star for doing all the work for Asha, what's Asha supposed to do now that the king is all powerful???

Star saying "We just need one more ingredient" YALL MAKING A POTION??? This feels weird, a magical being making a potion... Wait hold up, I thought of this in this second, was the last ingredient Asha? Like she goes up there to warn them and it turns out she was what they needed to figure out how to defeat Magnifico?... Probably not but who we will never know.

Wish Worth Making

This made me CRY when I first watched it, like WOW Disney, are you TRYING to make this movie as soulless as possible???

This is such a powerful moment that would make us actually CARE about Sabino, feel what Asha feels, and it's a calm and beautiful moment in this movie that never stops to just BREATHE.

Can you imagine Magnifico showing up after THIS?? It would've been so scary because it was the calm before the storm.

Imagine him breaking not only Sakina's wish but also Sabino's lute!

If I was Sabino's voice actor I'd be pissed to find out they deleted my song but kept the chicken dance song... That was a thing.

Anyway, hope yall had fun with this little rant, let me know YOUR thoughts on these scenes too! See ya next time!

Thank You For Reading!

#wish rewrite #kingdom of wishes #wish reimagined #wish movie #wish disney #wish star #wish 2023 #disney wish #disney #wish #wish deleted scenes #wish asha #queen amaya #wish king magnifico #Youtube

[buckyalpine]

Missing 2

Here is a silly part 2 to the silly first fic here 

Fluff, Mob Bucky is an adorable goof, this is worse than the first fic okay. I’m openly acknowledging this is ridiculous and stupid but I’m posting it anyway. 

“Why the fuck is he still here” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes, watching him carefully, hating the way he moved with such suave. Who the fuck does he think he is?! It had been days of him coming around, pretending his intentions were innocent but Bucky knew better. He had been in the game long enough to be able to read someone's character. 

No.

There was nothing innocent about this. 

He was after his pretty baby and that wasn’t okay. 

“If you have such a problem with him, go do something about it” Sam snorted, watching the mob boss huff, shaking his head.

“I can’t just tell him to fuck off” Bucky grumbled, ready to give him the finger. “Even though he should, I don’t want him 10 feet near my princess” 

“I’m sure if you stare at him long enough, he’ll take the hint”

Bucky glared at him once more for good measure before smiling down at the purring ball of fur that pawed at his leg, demanding to be picked up. She had dragged your sweater into the room, dropping it by his feet, giving him a pointed look. 

“Hi baby” He picked up his sassy little fur baby, giving her a few kisses and scratching her head, cocking an eyebrow at her seeing the sweater she brought with her. “You miss her huh, maybe I should ask her out soon?”

“Merp” Alpine nudged her head against his chest while Sam shook his head, running a hand over his face. 

“For fucks sake, at least listen to the cat and ask her out” 

“He’s right” Steve smirked at his friend, snorting at the ridiculous sight of Bucky cooing at his cat, “Stop worrying about him and actually go ask her out”

Bucky thought for a moment, he had to do it right. You were sweet. Kind. Summer and flowers. His mind was all over the place, he couldn't stop thinking about you but would you even want to go out with someone like him? 

You sipped your tea, cozy in an oversized t-shirt and some fuzzy socks, snuggled under a blanket with your favorite tv show pulled up. You smiled sadly at the empty corner Alpine liked to snuggle in; even if she was with you for a few days, you missed her purrs and silky fur nuzzled against you. Then there was her owner. It shouldn’t have been legal for someone that attractive to have a cute white fluffy kitten, the combination of the two overloaded all your senses. Your mind continuously bounced between the both of them, not sure who you wanted to snuggle with more. Both with the same mischievous blue eyes and sassy attitude to match. You blinked hearing the doorbell ring; no one ever visited you at this hour. Then it rang again. 

You ran to your door, abandoning your tea and Netflix, squealing when you saw your sweet little fur baby sitting in a basket of red roses, a small note tucked onto the side. She hopped out of the basket and into your arms, nudging her nose onto yours. 

“Now how did you get here baby” you giggled, looking up to see a flustered Bucky on your drive way, waiting hopefully for you to read the note. You pulled the note out, smiling at the beautiful handwriting, biting back a smile as you read. 

Thank you for taking such good care of me, I missed you. I sleep in your sweater every single night. I wanted to see you again. 

-Alp 

PS: Will you go out on a date with my daddy?

You grinned, feeling your face heat up, looking up at the blushing mob boss. He made his way over while you kept Alpine tucked in your arms; the ball of fur making a show of snuggling in your hold. Bucky shook his head at his cat’s antics; if only he was as adorable as she was. 

“Sorry” Bucky blushed sheepishly, his heart racing when you took the basket of flowers and invited him inside. “I-I didn’t get to properly thank you for taking care of Alpine” 

“I was happy just to look after her” You smiled, feeling giddy over the fact that he was in your house again. “But I’d love to go out with you” 

That was all he needed to hear, kissing your cheek before leaving, his mind already thinking about where to take you. 

“I’ll see you soon doll” 

*****

Bucky made sure he gave you the sweetest date possible, taking you out to a quiet diner where he spent the evening looking at you with heart eyes. His heart fluttered over your sweetness and he had to mentally restrain himself from cupping your cheeks and kissing you every time you looked at him. What the hell was wrong with him. 

The first date turned into a second date. Then a third. Most recently, he invited you over so he could make you brunch and eat in the large patio in his garden. Bucky’s heart started tp leap again, looking at his pretty doll set out strawberries on a plate and carrying a jug of lemonade.  He didn’t know what to do with himself when you brought him flowers from your flower shop to brighten his home, he already knew he was going to keep that bouquet preserved forever. 

You both finished eating, curled up on Bucky’s couch for some cuddles, his hand softly stroking your hair, stopping abruptly when he saw movement by the window. You sat up when you felt his body stiffen, looking up to see him staring at someone through the window. 

“Fuck, he’s back again” His chest rumbled against you, moving you over as he stalked to the window, frowning. 

“Who” You couldn’t see anyone from where you were sitting, nearly collapsing on the floor when you joined Bucky’s side. Now you knew exactly where Alpine learned her dramatics. 

“Him” Bucky growled at a stray black cat that slinked around his garden, purring as soon as his green eyes landed on Alpine who was basking near the windowsill. 

“It’s a cat Bucky”

“That’s not a cat, that’s a punk” He narrowed his eyes at the cat while he sauntered over, his tail swishing about, gracefully hopping on the ledge, his nose nudging against the glass, right where Alpine sat. “She’s too good for you”

“Oh my god” You wheezed, shaking your head while Steve walked by, stopping when he saw Bucky by the window. It had become a weekly occurrence, he was used to the scene before him, not that it was ever any less ridiculous. 

“Is he beefing with the cat again” Steve snorted while you burst out laughing, looking at Bucky staring off with the cat, his precious baby tucked in his arms. 

“Does this happen often?”

“Mhm, has he given him the finger yet?” 

“Shut up Steve” 

“He just wants a home, I think it’s sort of sweet” You nudged Bucky while he shook his head. Your heart melted, looking at Alpine trying to wiggle out of Bucky’s hold, inching towards the black cat that sat outside who was peering into the warm house. 

“I don’t trust him” 

“C’mon, he’s a little like you” Bucky frowned at you while you giggled, cupping his  face, pulling him down to kiss his lips, smiling when you felt him melt into your hold, his hands coming down to hold your waist. “He’s just a little misunderstood. Handsome on the outside and sweet on the inside”

Bucky’s ears perked up, a smirk dancing on his lips, pulling you closer. 

“You think I’m handsome and sweet?” 

“Bucky!” You rolled your eyes, “That’s what you got from what I just said?” You squeaked when he lifted you in his arms, carrying you off to his room, deciding he’d deal with the punk outside later. There were more important things that required his attention. 

“We have all night, tell me more my pretty doll” 

A few years later *

“I told you Alp would be with the groomsmen” Sam grinned, holding the white ball of fluff while Steve stood by Bucky. Alpine purred, a large silky bow replacing her collar. 

“That’s only because y/n has Bucky jr. on her side” The black cat purred in your best friends arms, his green eyes blinking at Alpine and then at Bucky, a little bowtie around his neck. 

“She named him Toothless, not Bucky Jr” Bucky groaned, shaking his head at the green eyes that blinked at him, he may have given into you adopting him but he still didn’t fully trust his intentions. 

“You love him” You giggled at your soon to be husband, waiting for his lips to press onto yours, ready to start a new chapter together along with your fur babies. 

“Hm, not as much as I love you” He whispered, pulling you into his arms as soon as he’s told he can kiss the bride, pouring every ounce of his love into the kiss. 

Who would have thought his little fur baby going on an adventure would bring him the greatest love of his life. 

****

*Of course when he does propose to you, there’s basically two proposals. One is perfect, romantic, intimate. Just the two of you, his sweet words, soft kisses. It was beautiful and you loved it but he already had your heart when you first feel 4 little paws on the bed earlier that day, a wet nose nudging you awake. There’s a new note attached to her collar, not a whole lot written on it but the few words bring tears to your eyes. 

Will you be my mama? 

To which you immediately say yes and gasp when you see a little ring on Alpine’s collar. Bucky smiles by the door, striding over to pull you into his lap, his heart filling with warmth when you attack him with 100′s of kisses. 

Alpine purrs proudly; she always knew you’d be the perfect mommy for her daddy. 

Tags:

@glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @batprincess1013 @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant

#mob bucky barnes #mob bucky #bucky barnes mob au #mob bucky au #mob steve #bucky fanfic #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #mob bucky fluff #marvel fluff #marvel au #avengers mob au #Steve Rogers #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #mob bucky x you #mob bucky x freader #mob bucky x y/n #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x f reader #avengers au #mob bucky x innocent reader

[rumisgf]

SASSY MAN APOCALYPSE (MHA EDITION)

summary: exposing some of the mha boys for the sassy niggas that they are 😒👎🏽

warnings: cursing, this whole headcanon is unserious so do not take me seriously LMAO

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

yea let’s get this out the way.

this man has a serious attitude problem, he just loves to argue and, more importantly, he loves to be right

“i said i’m done talking to you!”

“well i’m NOT done, so what?”

“talk to the hand, then.” then literally does 😒🫸🏽 in real life

did y’all see him walking in those jeans? yeah he’s a bad bitch in disguise.

and over text he’s literally unbearable

“girl bye”

“bitch pls”

“and did. tf?” (i hate him)

“you mad you got ate tf up.” (OUUUUU I HATE-)

if you’ve got an attitude or anger problems, you ma’am have met your match

he will have YOU saying “watch your attitude”

DENKI KAMINARI

now he’s the opposite

he’s sassy in a sense that he’s more on the feminine side

which is completely okay, and attractive tbh

…..however,

“ooouuu i ate that!”

“bitch, bye.”

“okay girl!”

he’s so.

this man is a comedian just for the facts he says things like that out of full seriousness

he also likes being petty, it’s so fun

he’s very keen on pet names you call him so if you hit him w a “bru” “bro” or “dude”

he’ll hit you right back w “girly pop” and “sis”

if you’ve seen this tiktok, denki literally does this. like unironically. on multiple occasions.

KEIGO TAKAMI

he needs to go to hell. like fr.

says “girl, boo” religiously

though there are few, any argument you have is completely unserious

like he’ll smack his lips, rolls his eyes, dramatically throw back his head n sigh, allat

you cannot take him seriously at all, ever.

“mmcht, what are you talkin ‘bout???”

“oh okay… OH okay, yeah. 🙄”

“alright, pipe down now.”

as a pro hero i like to think he cares a lot about his appearance and he wants to look good at all times (even though he does already)

he’ll ask you if he’s “serving cunt”

do not respond.

this man gets his nails done, gets fresh cuts every two weeks, gets facials, the whole thing every time

like sir WHAT do you need all that for 😒 who are you trynna impress???

and he’ll post on his instagram story with a bunch of selfies and videos of himself

which you slide up on and call him “ugly ass bitch”

he needs to be humbled

“who you trynna look good for?”

“hush you mad i look better than you.”

“OH?”

© rumisgf

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x black reader #bakugou headcanons #denki headcanons #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari headcanons #keigo x reader #keigo takami #hawks x reader #hawks x black!reader

[ysrjune]

i was thinking about how sam probably washes off his makeup with just hand soap and water quickly, so the reader would scold him for that and do a proper face cleaning routine for him :3

You were over at Sam's house for a sleepover. He wasn't your boyfriend, but just the guy you were currently talking to. It was a fun night, but it was also really late, so both of you decided to get ready for bed. “Gonna go wash my face, be right back.” He says and leaves you on his bed.

You took out the hairbrush from your backpack and brushed your hair out. But then Sam came out of the bathroom, eyes stained underneath from the eyeliner. “What the hell? I thought you said you were gonna wash your face..” You stare at him through a grimaced expression.

“I did?” He replied, confused. “Why, what's wrong?”, “Sam, you were in there for like two minutes!” You walk over to him, placing your fingers on his chin, making him look right and left so you can see all the eyeliner under his eyes. “Yeah, and? I wash my face fast, whats wrong with that?”

“The fact that you didn't do it right.” You rolled your eyes and quickly got your backpack filled with all your things. “Cmon, we're gonna go wash your face correctly.” Sam knew better than to argue with you over something like this, so he just followed you.

You see the face wash on the sink counter, relieved he at least used a proper wash instead of a bar of soap or something. You set your backpack on the counter and take out your silicone cleansing brush. “Put some of your soap on this.” He took a look at the brush like ‘what the fuck is this’ for a second but did what you asked. “Now what?”, “Close your eyes.” You command and sit yourself on the counter, making him stand in between your legs.

You start to gently run the brush over his face, cleansing his face. You did this for a while until you spoke again, “rub under your eyes carefully so that you get all the gunk out.” With his eyes closed, he did what you instructed, then opened the cold water and washed all the soap off. When he dried his face with his face rag, he saw how clean his eyes looked. “Wow, that's crazy.”

“Yeah, but that's not all.” You dig into your backpack to get out your skincare stuff. He looked over to you slowly. “Scuse me?” He raised his eyebrow. He was so sassy and funny when you two were alone together.

“This is gonna hydrate your face, Sammy.” He was really confused. Why did you wanna do all this for him? It was NOT! that serious.. or at least he thinks it's not. “Um. Okay.” He replied while you set some toner on his face, followed by hydrating serum, and moisturizer.

“Okay, you're done! How do you feel?”, “Um.. oddly good. Kinda greasy and wet, too.” He didn't know how to really explain it. “Good, cause that's how it's supposed to feel.”

“.. so can I get a kiss now?”

what the hell made him think he deserves a kiss just because he let you wash his face properly? whatever. you kissed him anyway.

#hayden christensen #sam monroe #life as a house #sam monroe x you #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe imagine

[slut4thebroken]

“Childhood Enemies Turned Lovers?” - part 1

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Robert Fischer x reader

Summary | Arranged marriage enemies to lovers au. Need I say more?

Warnings | Angst, fluff?, domestic violence, kind of, slow burn, but not too slow, misogyny, i think, enemies to lovers, alcohol, robert is so fucking sassy lol, slut shaming, flirting, implied/referenced homophobia.

Words | 4.1 k

Notes | We’re not gonna talk about how the reason for this arranged marriage lowkey makes no sense okay? 🤫

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You’ve hated Robert Fischer for as long as you can remember. Growing up, your father told you that the Fischer’s were no good and their business wasn’t much better. You, of course, believed him. You didn’t know any better. 

Unfortunately, you often attended the same events, like charity galas and fundraisers, and every single interaction ended in juvenile bickering. As you got older, you grew to resent him— solely because of the fact that he got hot and you couldn’t have him— and the jabs became more personal. You mocked him for his daddy issues, he mocked you for your reputation— you’re seen a few times with different guys and all of a sudden that makes you a whore, nevermind the fact that half of the guys you were seen with are gayer than Elton John. 

But the rivalry between your families was hurting both businesses. And even though neither you nor Robert had anything to do with it, you were still partially responsible apparently. Which is how you found yourself at dinner, sitting next to your father and across from Robert, his father beside him. The tension was thick, one wrong word from anyone and all of this would go down the drain immediately. So you kept your mouth shut, letting your father do the talking. 

“As much as we both hate to admit it, we can’t keep this up.” He said and you waited for the point he was trying to make. 

“Both of our businesses are struggling because of it and I think we came to a fair solution.” Robert’s father added. You sighed and picked up your wine to stop yourself from telling them to just spit it out already. “We want you both to get married.” You choked on your drink and started coughing as you set the glass back down, Robert had a similar reaction with his food. 

“It would end this petty feud and our businesses would be stronger together.” Your father explained and you turned to him in shock, staring at him as if he had grown a second head. 

“Are you fucking crazy?” You hissed, making his gaze harden. 

“Don’t make a scene. We don’t need you embarrassing the family any further.” He spat, making you clench your jaw and look away. It’s not your fault paparazzi are obsessed with you and stalk you everywhere you go.  

“I never thought I’d say this, but I have to agree with her.” Robert finally chimed in, speaking apprehensively. 

“Son, you know we’re right.” You watched him soften at his fathers words— what a weak little daddy’s boy. You thought with a scoff. 

“No you’re not.” You said, keeping your voice at a normal level. 

“That’s not for you to decide.” Your father said and you stood up suddenly, throwing the napkin from your lap onto your plate and grabbing your purse. “Sit back down. We’re not done.” He warned. 

“I’m not listening to this shit. Figure out another solution.” You spat. When you tried to walk away, he grabbed your wrist in a bruising grip. You swallowed down a whimper from the pain, not turning back around to face him as your eyes started watering. 

“Sit down.” He hissed, tightening his grip until you couldn’t hold down the sound anymore. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like anyone heard it. You moved back to your seat and he let you go. 

As you kept your gaze on your lap and rubbed your sore wrist, you could practically feel his gaze on you. Sure enough, when you looked up, Robert was staring at you with a mixture of confusion, concern, and pity. 

“I’m sorry. One day I know you both will see this the way we do.” His father said. After a few more minutes of the men conversing and you keeping your head down, your father finally dismissed you and you practically ran out of the restaurant. You texted your driver, then waited outside the building, trying to at least wait until you were in the car to start crying. 

“Hi.” You stiffened, then shook your head with a sniffle. 

“I don’t need this right now, Fischer.” You said quietly, voice trembling. 

“Me neither. I came to ask if you’re okay.” He spoke with a gentleness you didn’t know he was capable of. 

“Of course I’m not fucking okay.” You spat viciously. “I’m barely in my mid twenties, I don’t want to marry yet— I’m not ready to marry yet. Let alone you. I want to- to marry someone I love.” Your voice broke pathetically and you kept your gaze forward or down, not able to look at him. He let out a heavy sigh, but didn’t respond, seemingly realizing that nothing he could say would help right now. His hand suddenly touching yours made you flinch as you head snapped to him. He gently lifted your hand and inspected your wrist, running his thumb over the red skin. 

“Don’t.” You said sharply, not wanting to feel worse about yourself. 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“Well you thought it. He’s not— he’s not an abuser, okay? He just doesn’t know his own strength.” You defended weakly. The first part you technically believed, but you knew that what he did was always intentional— one of his ways of asserting his power over you. 

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, making your gaze harden. 

“I don’t need your pity.” You spat, pulling your hand away. You could’ve cried in relief when your car finally pulled up. He called out for you when you started walking away, making you freeze, then turn back around. 

“They told me to tell you there’s going to be a meeting you need to attend next week to go over everything.”  

“Is that all?” You asked, voice breaking slightly as you spoke. 

He hesitated, then gave you a small, “yes” and you continued walking, now finding the driver standing there with the door open. You spared him one last glance before getting in. Even though you knew he couldn’t see you through the practically black window tint, it still felt like his gaze was on you. 

The next few days were spent drinking and crying. Eventually you decided your pity party was over. If you’re about to be married off like fucking cattle, might as well make the most of your time as a free woman, right? Which is how you found yourself at your semi regular hookup’s house. 

It wasn’t good. He seemed to realize that your mind was elsewhere and offered to talk, saying you didn’t have to keep going. That made you scoff and snap back some mean retort about how if you wanted to talk, you would’ve hit up a shrink. Which you felt bad about, but it was quickly forgotten. 

The meeting was in two days. There were moments when you seriously considered not going… but you didn’t want to find out what the consequences would be. On the day of the meeting, you woke up late— already off to a bad start— and had to quickly wipe off last night's makeup and do your best to reapply it quickly. 

When you arrived, the conversation stopped and everyone turned to you, watching you take off your sunglasses as you sat in the only open chair, next to Robert. 

“Nice of you to finally join us— and hungover too.” Your father snarked. 

“Sorry I’m late.” You said with an exaggerated smile. “Please continue.” The expression dropped almost instantly and you waited for the conversation to pick back up. 

It dragged on slowly. They talked about the business and legal aspects of the deal, made sure everyone was on the same page about what they would get out of this arrangement, and you just sat there the whole time, trying not to cry as you thought about how you’d never be able to have a boyfriend— at least not a public one, and he probably wouldn’t want to put up with the secrecy of it all. Those thoughts spiraled into the realization that you’ll never experience being with someone you truly love. 

Someone called your name loudly, making your head snap up. 

“What?” You asked, trying to push down the panic attack. 

“I asked if you were listening.” Your father said, completely unamused. 

“I was. I need to just— I need… I have to go to the bathroom.” You scrambled out of your chair, ignoring your father calling out for you, and practically ran to the bathroom. You slammed the door shut and locked it, then leaned against it, trying to take deep breaths as you hyperventilated. Your chest tightened and you doubled over, placing your hands on your knees to steady yourself. Tears quickly filled your eyes when you remembered why you were having a panic attack in the first place. 

Someone slammed their fist on the door rapidly, making your breath catch in your throat. 

“Come out of there, I’m not going to tell you again.” Your father said, making your crying come back full force. 

“I- I’m almost done.” You did your best to get the words out through your sobs and uneven breaths. You waited for him to yell again, maybe get someone to break down the door, but you heard hushed voices, then silence, followed by a quiet knock. 

“What?” You croaked. 

“He only agreed to let me.. ‘handle’ this, if you actually let me in.” He said tentatively and you had no reason not to believe him, so you unlocked the door, then leaned against the wall so he could come in. 

He almost seemed shocked by your current state, probably expecting you to have just run in here out of boredom. 

“I can’t. I can’t, Robert.” You whimpered, taking in shaky, uneven breaths. 

“I think we can find a way to make this work.” He said softly, making you shake your head. 

“I don’t want to be married to you for the rest of my fucking life! I want to marry someone I love, someone I actually want to spend my life with.” 

“I know, I do too. Can you just listen to me please?” You don’t think you’ve ever heard him say the word please before. When you stayed silent, he continued. “My father is already very old and within a few years, he’ll most likely pass and the company will be mine. After that I can try to keep the peace with your family and we can get a divorce, then go our separate ways. I know it’s not ideal, but you’re not going to be stuck in a loveless marriage for the rest of your life.” You started to calm down as you processed his words. You really only have to wait maybe five or ten years before this will be over. Which seems like a lot but you’ll still only be in your early to mid thirties. It could be worse. 

“You’re right. I didn’t think about it like that.” You said, exhaustion clear in your voice now that you weren’t actively panicking anymore. 

“I usually am, you’re just too stubborn to listen to me.” He chuckled, making the corners of your lips curl up into a small smile. “Make yourself presentable, then come back out. The meeting’s almost over but they want us to get lunch together for our first publicity stunt.” You were about to make a snide remark about him telling you to ‘make yourself presentable’ but it died in your throat when you looked in the mirror. 

“Oh my god.” You muttered, embarrassed. He chuckled as he left the bathroom and only then did you register what he said— you have to get lunch with him. Looking like you just crawled out of a dumpster after rotting there for a week. You did your best to wipe away the mascara on your face and just touch up the rest of you, in hopes of making your face slightly less noticeable. Taking a deep breath, you held your head high and put on your best fake smile before walking out. 

“Sorry, everyone. I hope I didn’t miss anything too important.” Your father gave you a warning glare at your demeanor. “I heard we’re getting lunch?” You said, trying to move the topic away from yourself. 

“Yes. You two have made enough of a fuss in public that just jumping right into this will be worse than playing it up, pretending like you’re actually starting to get along now.” Mr. Fischer explained. 

“Paparazzi will be there?” You confirmed. 

“Yes. So you might want to stop by your apartment first and make yourself presentable.” Your father added, making you take a deep breath as you dug your nails into your hand. 

“Got it. Anything else?” You didn’t mean for it to sound sarcastic, but based on your fathers expression, that’s how it came out. Thankfully Robert spoke before he could comment on it. 

“They want us to arrive together. Should I meet you at your apartment later or just come with you now?” Your apartment was a mess right now— that’s the last thing you wanted. 

“I think it would be best if,”

“Go with her.” Your father answered for you. Robert looked at you questioningly and you gave him a dry smile. 

“Sure. Come with me.”

After a short drive, you finally arrived in front of your apartment building. When he started unbuckling his seatbelt, you turned to him. 

“Maybe you could.. wait in the car?”

“I don’t want to sit in here for an hour while you get ready.” He scoffed and you rolled your eyes. 

“Fine. Suit yourself.” 

You led the way and when the front door opened his eyes widened in shock as he stepped inside. 

“Welcome to my depression house. This is how it looks when I’m depressed.” You said sarcastically, walking over to grab the empty bottles of alcohol from the coffee table and put them in the trash. 

“Should I be offended?” He asked, walking around the messy space. 

“Maybe just a little.” You said teasingly. He eyed the pictures of you and your friends—none with your family, he noticed— and the little trinkets you had on the bookshelf, then turned and looked at the rest of the room. 

“It’s… cuter than I thought it would be.” He finally turned to you and you raised your brows. 

“What, were you expecting an evil lair? Maybe a dungeon?” You asked, amused. 

“No, I just… didn’t think you’d have so many decorations, let alone colorful ones.” 

“Well I hope you’re good at adapting because you’ll be stuck with this for the next few years.” 

“We are not decorating like this.” He scoffed. 

“If you want to tell our fathers that you refuse to go through with this because you don’t want to live in a beautiful house, then go ahead.” 

“I think they’d understand.” He sneered and you narrowed your eyes at him. He’s not wrong though, your father used to hate how you decorated your room when you lived in his house. He hates the way you decorate your apartment even more though. 

“Ever heard of the phrase, ‘happy wife, happy life’? Because it’s true and I’ll enjoy making your life a living hell until you finally give in.” You smirked. 

“God— I forgot how much of a stubborn bitch you are when you’re not moping.” He spat and you gaped at him. 

“And I forgot how insufferable you can be when you’re not kissing your daddy’s ass!” 

“Maybe if you tried that every once in a while, your father wouldn’t treat you the way he does!” He seemed to immediately realize what he said, after he said it. You clenched your jaw and looked down, taking a deep breath. You were already emotional from the meeting, so it wasn’t surprising when your eyes started burning with tears. 

You wished he was right. But your father has always treated you the same no matter how you act, you learned that very early on. 

“I didn’t mean,” 

“Stop.” You said quietly. “I’m just going to go get ready.” You muttered, walking passed him and into your room, closing the door just a little too loudly. 

You were mostly just embarrassed now, rather than angry, and you wanted nothing more than to just stay locked in your room today. But you couldn’t. So you redid your makeup, put on a nice outfit with a matching purse, then walked back out. He suddenly stood up from the couch, as if you had caught him doing something he shouldn’t be doing. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have,”

“It’s fine. Next time though, you could at least make the insult true and a little more creative.” You didn’t look at him as you walked past him to grab your keys and open the door. You waited impatiently as he tentatively walked closer. 

“God, Fischer, could you move any slower?” You huffed, making him roll his eyes, but speed up. 

The car ride to the restaurant was awkward. Neither of you really knew what to say. You were just glad when his phone rang, it felt like it made the tension a little less thick in the small space. You listened to him talk, wondering what the conversation was about. Whoever was on the line was doing most of the talking because he responded with “yes” and “okay” and “I understand” and not much else. When he finally hung up and put his phone back in his pocket, he turned to you. 

“That was my father. He wanted to remind us to pretend like we actually want to be there.” You scoffed a laugh, rolling your eyes. 

“I’m surprised no one called me to tell me that.” 

“I’m guessing they figured I’d take it better and be more successful at convincing you to behave.” He said teasingly. 

“Oh, I can behave, Mr. Fischer. Contrary to popular belief I can be a good girl.” Your tone was overly seductive and you batted your eyelashes at him, smirking when his cheeks turned pink. 

“Don’t call me that.” It's almost comical the way he thinks he can sway the conversation in the direction he wants. 

“What should I call you then? Sir?” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. 

“Robert is fine.” He said, voice strained. You barked out a laugh, making his cheeks go even redder as he clenched his jaw, not looking at you. 

“You’re too easy, Fischer.” 

Lunch went surprisingly well. You had a few small spats, but you both made sure to keep the smiles on your faces. Anyone who wasn’t in hearing distance would think you were having a pleasant conversation. 

You made the headlines less than 24 hours later. “Childhood Enemies Turned Lovers?” You almost scoffed at the cheesy line— that was seriously the best they could come up with? The pictures included were all carefully selected by a PR team so that people would believe the fake date was actually real. 

The following week, your father texted, ‘Sunday early afternoon.’ and nothing else. You figured it was another PR thing, but you texted Robert to be sure. He confirmed that it was indeed another planned ‘date’ and that he’d pick you up at 11, telling you to dress pretty, which made you scoff. You almost did the opposite, just to piss everyone off, but your father’s been off your back a little more than usual, so you decided to just do it. You wore a sundress and a cardigan, hoping it would be “cute” enough. When you got in the car, you frowned.  

“Why do I have to wear a dress but you can wear that?” That made him scoff. 

“I’m significantly more dressed up than you. Why are you complaining?” 

“Yeah but that’s different, you always wear that.” 

“I don’t know, okay? I didn’t decide.” You huffed and turned back to face the front of the car with your arms crossed over your chest. “You look good though.” He suddenly said, making your head snap back to him. His gaze was trained on the bare skin of your thighs for a moment before slowly trailing back up your body, lingering on your breasts that were pushed up because of your crossed arms. 

“You done yet?” You asked, making his eyes meet yours as his lips curled up into a small smirk. 

“No, not yet.” His gaze moved back to your body and you scoffed as your cheeks heated up. 

“Fine. Let me know when you’re finished objectifying me please.” You said with faux seriousness, even though part of you was enjoying the attention. 

You arrived at a cafe and he held the door open for you to walk inside, making you blush— and need to remind yourself that this wasn’t real. You both ordered your drinks and he paid. Once you were walking outside for a bit, drinks in hand, you couldn’t push down the curiosity anymore. 

“Where are we going?” 

“A walk.” 

“I hate walks.” You frowned, making him turn to you. 

“Okay? What am I supposed to do about that? Carry you?” You rolled your eyes at his tone. 

“You’re so sassy sometimes, has anyone ever told you that?” 

“Not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?” You snorted a laugh at that, making him smile. You walked in comfortable silence for a while, then when his hand suddenly brushed yours, you flinched away from him. 

“What are you doing?” 

“They didn’t tell you because they figured you’d throw a fit about it— their words, not mine.” He added the last part when he saw your expression. 

“Don’t you think holding hands on the second date is a little soon?” He looked over at you with raised brows as he grabbed your hand. 

“You’ve been known to do more on less.” You could tell that he didn’t really believe it, he was just teasing you. 

“That’s only because those dates were the first ones where the paparazzi actually saw us.” You explained, feeling like you needed to defend your reputation to him. Which was weird cause you’ve never cared too much before. 

“That wasn’t denial.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes with a huff. 

“What, you think I fuck on the first date too?” 

“I didn’t say that.” He defended, making you scoff. “…But based on some of those videos.. I wouldn’t be surprised.” He added tentatively. 

“Don’t act like you haven’t been caught doing the same thing. The only reason people don’t call you a slut is because you're a man.” 

“Those were all PR stunts.” He said quietly, the teasing tone now slightly gone. “I don’t usually take girls out in public which caused a whole big speculation of me being gay and obviously my father couldn’t have that.” He chuckled dryly, making you frown. 

“Are you?” You hoped your tone showed that you weren’t making fun of him, but genuinely asking. 

“No.” He said defensively. “Are you?” It almost seemed like he was expecting this big ah ha moment, the way he asked that. 

“I don’t know. I’ve never dated a woman— also because of my father. I’ve hooked up with a few, but I never let myself focus on my feelings for them too hard because if I am, then that’s a whole big secret I have to keep and I just really don’t want to worry about that.” Saying it out loud like that made you sound so fucking gay— “And it’s not that I don’t like men!” You added quickly. “I just,”

“I understand.” You both walked in silence for a few more minutes, then let out simultaneous sighs when you saw the first camera. Even though this was staged, you still don’t exactly have fond memories with paparazzi, so it was pretty uncomfortable to say the least. 

“Just think,” He murmured against your ear, making you shiver, “after a few pictures, we’re done and you can go back to your depression house with your weird decorations and not have to put up with me for a while.” You couldn’t suppress the laugh from his words and you tried to ignore the way the clicking of the cameras got more intense. 

“I actually cleaned. So it’s not a depression house anymore. And they’re not weird, they’re cute and fun.” He pulled back to look at you, the signature ‘son of a millionaire’ smirk on his face. 

“Sure they are, sweetheart.” Despite the mocking tone, your entire face turned red from the pet name. 

The photos were released later that night, the main ones being you laughing and smiling as he whispered something in your ear. God— you looked so pathetically love sick, it’s disgusting. 

part 2

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @halleysc6met (didn’t let me tag ->) @crunchsworld @bluujaiwrites @idkdudsworld @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @xxorazz

#robert fischer #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer smut #inception #enemies to lovers #arranged marriage

[sh0tanzz]

hii can u do sohee as bf?

SOHEE AS YOUR BF based on astrology ~

reminder: this is for fun and astrology is smth I study for a hobby, these are all inferences based off of observations and not exact fact unless I knew him myself !!

Scorpio Sun: The stereotype that scorpios suns are secretive is so played out they're just technically shy imo im sorry LMFAOOO. Once a scorpio fully trusts you or has something they genuinely want to tell you they just keep GOING. And the same probably applies to him especially since his Mercury is in Sag. In the beginning he might seem hard to crack or not one to spare many details but once he's sure of you and you two are officially together and solidified oh he's a plain open book. Ofc he's not gonna pour every aspect of his heart out but being secretive really won't be an issue. He has an aspect of sun and uranus so he won't really act in ways that aren't true to him, his freedom, or expression so he'd practice authenticity even within the relationship so you better be in it for the real him !!

Libra Moon: Similar to Wonbin he'd be pretty considerate and would weigh pros and cons before doing anything to ensure fairness. His chart makes up of placements centered around truth, fairness and morals so ngl being equal+in balance is something he'd want for the relationship. Sometimes there's a tendency for Libra moons to end up complacent or non argumentative to keep the peace but I think it wouldn't be as severe considering his sag placements. Rather than being complacent he'd be pretty passive, he'd be willing to engage in trivial debates and significant convos but wouldn't break his neck to prove his point or show that he's right unless it was absolutely necessary. His moon is sextile his venus so emotional balance is crucial so he'd avoid constant disturbances in the relationship so you two remain in harmony; downside he might become TOO passive and too invested in harmony to where needed conflicts are dismissed or he doesn't express himself fully.

Sagittarius Mercury: So...blunt LMFAOO. Honestly Sohee probably says crazy stuff or is more sassy behind closed doors he has sm mercury aspects even some with pluto and mars. He might be conflicted sometimes, has moments of being super blunt and even saying stuff without thinking and then his libra moon brings him back into peaceful mode and he's like "uuuhm my bad". Probably likes fake arguing or small debates. Makes fun of you most definitely but compared to Eunseok it'd be easy for him to apologize if he realized it was too far or hurt you. Instead of yelling he might talk pretty fast and "word vomit" whenever he's dealing with big emotions or anger (especially with his mercury square mars) and due to this he might go quiet during arguments (if they ever even happen) because he knows when dealing with his outbursts he could say the wrong thing or be hurtful when not meaning to. Likes to be playful and even a bit nonserious and childish in convos and tries to make things lighthearted.

Sagittarius Venus: Sigh omg a bestfriend and boyfriend in one quite LITERALLY. Sag Venus has a hard time settling down because they value their freedom and life path so much and they don't really get into -serious- relationships unless they're genuinely enamored with you and can see you fitting into their expanding life. So once he's with you and realizes he's actually in love with you and it's beyond just flirting and pining he's essentially all in. Freedom will be evident in the relationship and there may not be a super specific power dynamic laid out outside of the cheesy "look at how my gf takes care of me.”. He wouldn't abandon his career for the relationship but wouldn't completely abandon the relationship as a whole either but just know there'd be an attempt to split both. He'd be loving and wouldn't be too restricting, flirts via jokes quite literally he would end up being the funniest man you know especially with that sag mercury on top. He values optimism and change and would implement that into the relationship as well.

Pisces Mars: His Sag Venus paired with his mars could show that he'd be ok with someone being the initiator or taking the lead but would still be ok with wanting your attention and doing things to get it (not in a toxic way ofc) . Like he'd want to impress you with unconventionally/casual romantic things or "best friend dates" that soon lead to more. Aw man he's probably a friends to lovers trope type of man like anton :((. Tbh him having a Sag Venus + Pisces Mars such a chill relationship like I said earlier it'd be just like dating your friend.

#kpop astrology #riize #riize fluff #riize imagines #riize reactions #riize smut #riize x reader #sungchan #eunseok #riize anton #riize sohee #riizenet #riize scenarios #riize astrology #riize masterlist #lee sohee #sohee x reader #briize #riize sungchan #riize shotaro #riize wonbin #riize seunghan #riize soft hours #riize soft thoughts #riize hard hours #riize hard thoughts #wonbin x reader #seunghan x reader #nct #love 119

[artiststarme]

Don't Call Me Stupid

Can I make you cry four times in one day @pyrohonk? I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

Now with a Part 2!

~*~*~*~

Steve was used to being the dumb one. He was the kid in class that would ask stupid questions that the other kids and sometimes even the teacher would laugh at. He never quite understood what teachers were saying in class or what the words written on the board were supposed to mean with their squiggly letters that jumped around. Eventually he learned not to raise his hand at all. Better to be confused than embarrassed, right?

Nancy, when they were dating, would always call him an idiot. He brushed it off at the time but looking back, it made him wonder. If he was a little bit smarter, a little more astute, would things have gone differently? Would Nancy have sought comfort in him instead of running off to Jonathan? Would he have noticed Barb’s disappearance from his yard that started all of this in the first place? He had to wonder but even that wouldn’t change anything. 

His stupidity was also a highlight point for his parents to focus on. He once was the popular jock, an airhead but one that was popular and good at sports. Now, he was just a deadbeat that barely graduated high school and certainly couldn’t get into college. He was a loser working at a dead-end job that was going nowhere in life. Ah, what pride he brought to his parents now. He could only grieve the life he used to lead every time he saw his parents staring at him in disdain. At least he had the Party… right?

It was a well known fact throughout the Party that Steve was a little slow. His brain worked at a different pace than the rest of them, a concept woefully apparent to everyone. His brain was focused on the music underlying the Russian code and the Black Widows underneath the floorboards. He was the last to connect the dots and truly only helped the Party by taking hits to the head. They only kept him around to take the hits after all. 

Even Robin, his best friend in the world, his platonic soulmate with a capital P, called him a dingus on a near hourly basis. Sure, it was affectionate now but it started as a derogatory term to poke fun at his intelligence, or lack thereof. He was a fool in her eyes, affectionate or not. Even still, he was just the dumbass that slept around with half of Hawkins, a sassy soundboard for her to bounce lesbian crushes off of. 

He was used to being called stupid but it still hurt every time. 

So in the first fight he and Eddie have as a couple, it really hits a sore spot when Eddie hisses, “what are you, stupid?”

All of the fight drained out of Steve in an instant leaving a broken, empty shell in its place. His anger melted away to reveal the hurt hidden underneath. “You should go.”

“What? No, we’re talking this through,” Eddie shook his head, giving him a look of confusion. 

“I probably won’t understand anyways since I’m so stupid. So you should go, save your breath. Whatever you think is probably right anyways.” With that, Steve walks up the stairs to his bedroom and locks the door behind him. He pulls his old Walkman over his ears and lets the sad tones of Queen’s All Dead, All Dead wash over him. 

He was sick of being treated like trash by everyone he talked to. Everyone that was supposed to love him; his parents, Nancy, Robin, Eddie, the kids. They all thought he was a dumbass. He’d tried so hard to be better, to be smarter, to be more useful to everyone else. But in his quest, he lost everything that he once was. He lost his charisma, he lost his old friends, and his hobbies to become this loser who still no one liked. 

So, he ignored his boyfriend’s knocks on his door, turned up his tunes, and planned his move away from Hawkins. If he wasn’t appreciated here, maybe he would be anywhere else.

Permanent Tag List: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1 @anzelsilver @jestyzesty @gregre369

#stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson #eleven hopper

[laurrrelise]

✧ Assisting the Arrogant ✧

Derek Danforth x fem reader :)

^ (i listened this song endlessly while writing this so i thought i’d include it)

✧ Word Count: 3.9k

✧ Summary: You are the assistant to Derek Danforth, a disgustingly cocky, selfish billionaire with no sense of consequences. After you’re hired by his mother to help him with work and keep him out of trouble when Wallace Westwyld quits, it only takes one glance at the man to see it’s an impossible task. Still, you need the money she promises to pay, so it’s worth a shot…right?

✧ Tags: Derek Danforth x fem reader, super slow burn, mentions of drug use and prostitution, no pre-established relationship, no smut (yet, hopefully), angst, enemies to lovers, somewhat fluff, mature content (esp. going forward), Derek has mommy issues, reader has daddy issues, derek is literally just a sassy bastard the whole time

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You just want to live an alright life.

You had just alright grades in high school. Just alright friends. You want an alright job so you apply to an alright college. You naturally get in, opting to take online courses since your small apartment downtown is pretty far from any half-decent schools. You like being downtown, not in a huge city. You’re only a few hours away from Boston, but you’ve only been there once.

Your parents are huge political junkies. Your mom passed away a few years back, leaving your only direct family to be your dad, who generally sucks. He’s emotionally unavailable and prioritizes work over you. He always has, and it’s pretty safe to say that he always will. However, he accidentally found you a job. You weren’t even slightly interested when he reached out for the first time in over a year, but began to listen when he mentioned Jessica Danforth. The actual fucking president of the United States?

Yeah. That one.

Somehow, your dad knows her assistant. Said something about the woman herself looking for a glorified babysitter for her 28-year-old son, who is, in her eyes, essentially a failure. Derek Danforth, the billionaire CEO. Successful in some respects, of course. However, his worst, and dominating qualities, tend to be the fact that he’s an alcoholic and an addict who’s constantly doing illegal shit, and he’s generally an idiot. For fuck’s sake, he has a different prostitute with him each night and half of the time he livestreams everything to his crypto-obsessed billionaire friends. No wonder that Westwyld guy quit. It might have also been in part due to the fact that a seemingly sadistic, self-claiming “beekeeper” tried to kill Derek after he had a scandal surrounding an illegal scamming company go public, but who’s to say? Even without that whole situation, trying to keep this guy out of trouble seemed like a task that no one would even consider taking up.

Yet here’s Jessica, offering so much money that you would never have to work a 9-5 for the rest of your life to live comfortably. The guy’s an idiot, but he’s got to be harmless.

She proposes the idea of an assistant. You’ll help Derek at work (if that’s even what you want to call it) and discourage his bad decisions in his personal life. Maybe, in her eyes, having a pretty girl with her eyes and ears on him at all times will help him change and wipe her own reputation clean. You’d stay with Derek in his mansion in order to keep track of his behaviors closely and get paid more than handsomely to do so. Even with the scandals, who wouldn’t agree to do it?

So, of course, you do. Your dad is pleased, hoping it’ll boost his position, but you couldn’t care less. You want the money.

Jessica schedules a couple of calls with you, briefing you over Derek’s past and what his immediate future may look like. It’s complicated and, for a lack of better words, grimy. However, it doesn’t change the paycheck, so you nod along and smile politely. Filled with anxiety over her son’s future, she tells you that she’ll send a car to your apartment to escort you to Boston, where Derek resides, in about a week. You make your arrangements, careful to take account of anything that would be important to this huge change making its way into your life.

When the car shows up late on a summer afternoon, you’re somehow surprised to find that it’s a beautiful black limousine, accompanied by chauffeurs in suits who take your bags and open the doors for you. You try to relax, but it’s nearly impossible to not be anxious. A billionaire. With a disgusting attitude. Multiple people quit their handsomely-paying jobs because of him. It’s too much. Yet somehow, it feels like not enough. That is, until you arrive on the streets of Boston, your jaw dragging the ground as the mansions you pass reflect off of your eyes.

It’s sort of ridiculous. Some people just have too much money. Yet, somehow your pupils couldn’t be pried away from the luxurious homes.

You anxiously begin scanning the house in front of you as the car makes a turn into its driveway. This is the one? This is your new home? Where you’re going to be living?

The house’s size makes you feel nauseous. You’re going to get lost in this place every 5 minutes. You pray to God Derek has maps of the layout.

It’s surreal, to say the least.

The chauffeurs open your door as you step out of the vehicle, mouth continuing to hang open in awe. You’re never going to be able to adjust to living here. They carry your bags to the doorstep, waving you a friendly goodbye as you stand in front of the dark double doors. You raise your hand to the wood in determination to get this reluctant interaction over with, but it hovers there. Your knuckles can’t even reach the surface of the door, your nervousness won’t allow it.

You take a deep breath, rapping your fist on it anyways. Your foot taps subconsciously as you try to keep yourself composed. Christ, you haven’t even met the man and somehow you’re already a mess.

The door opens suddenly. And Jesus, it’s certainly him.

His mother described him as “flashy” and “eccentric”. Were those the right terms? Who knows? The dark green and white checkered silk button-up, unbuttoned halfway, revealing his dark chest hair, tucked into retro white flared pants hanging over dark brown cowboy boots. A shimmering diamond earring attached to his left ear, a thin diamond chain on his neck. Dark brown hair with frosted tips, curls styled meticulously.

A cigarette perfectly fits in the crack of his lips, his displeased expression only making your anxiety double as his eyes scan from your shoes to your head. You can’t say anything. Your voice ceases to exist. Unfortunately, his doesn’t.

“Can I help you?” His flat, unbothered tone is annoying, to say the least. His eyes land on the few bags at your feet, his brows lowering in a confused expression.

You swallow, trying to crack out a sentence. “Hi, I’m your new assistant? You’re… Derek, right?”

He pulls the cigarette from his lips, blowing smoke into your face. “What do you think?” he asks, sarcasm overriding any possible signs that he could be attempting politeness.

“I think you probably are.” You try to give him a smile, but he simply crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe.

“I don’t need an assistant. And I certainly never hired one.”

You glance at your feet, your nervousness drowning you in shivers as you try to figure out how to respond. She didn’t even tell him I was coming? Goddamn it.

“Your, uh… your mom hired me.” You try to smile again, and it’s met with a subtle scowl.

“She would‘ve told me if she hired an assistant.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too. But I gues-“

He shoves a hand in your face, cutting you off as he pulls out his phone to call someone and slams the door in your face. You hear muffled yells, clearly coming from his mouth by the whiny yet cocky tone that again overrides any attempts for him to sound like a friendly, decent human being.

These are great signs, considering you’ll probably be staying with him for a few years if all goes well. Maybe you could fake an accident or something, get some way to make a situation seem like it’s out of your control completely and quit, but still get some of the money she promised.

This guy is already pushing every button you’ve got.

You hear a final muffled yell, followed by the door swinging open slowly. He glares at you, clearly not happy. You just stare at him, waiting for any signs that he might accept that this is out of his control and let you in.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Or, stop gawking and get your ass in here.” Judging by his tone, he’s beyond pissed. Great.

You pick up a couple of your bags, squeezing through the door as he stands there tapping his foot out of annoyance. You place down your bags just inside the door, walking back outside to grab the rest. After all of the belongings you had to pack up on a whim are set neatly just inside his front door, you finally get a look at the house.

Right in front of the door, there’s a huge gold water fountain. Because of course there is. In fact, half of the house is drenched in gold. There’s two golden railings surrounding each side of the large double staircases on either side of the fountain. There’s a gold grand piano in the corner, gold plant vases everywhere, a gold chandelier, and just about everything else was white. Touches of overdone cheetah print are on display everywhere. Of course, there’s a taxidermy cheetah rug on the ground in front of the door. Gross.

Is this all real gold?

You pause for a moment, rethinking your own thoughts.

Of course it is. It’s probably all solid gold. And it was probably “chump change”. This guy’s a billionaire, I have to remember that.

Derek closes the door, taking another puff of his cigarette and dropping it in a (who would’ve guessed?) gold ashtray by the door. He puts his hands on his hips, an annoyed expression filling his entire face as he looks you up and down again. “Alright, listen sweetheart. You’re my assistant. I don’t give a fuck what my mom is paying you. You’re going to listen to me. We got it?”

You nod, hiccuping out of nervousness. He turns, starting to make his way to the left staircase. “Fantastic. Let’s go.” Of course, he could offer to help you with your bags. Of course, he doesn’t.

He leads you to a large bedroom down the hall from the main foyer. It’s beautiful, truly, because it’s not completely painted in gold or animal print. It’s white, simple wood furniture dotting the room. There’s a desk, a walk-in closet, a dresser, a nightstand, a small sofa, and a huge plush bed. My twin size mattress really did need an upgrade, I suppose.

You place three of your bags on the desk as he leans against the wall, waiting for you to run back downstairs and grab the rest. You hurry, not wanting to make him any more upset than he already is, and turn to face him when you’re done.

“This is your room. My room is down the hall, but if you ever even think about waking me up, I will immediately fire you on the spot.”

You don’t even mean to speak, but the words fall out of your mouth like rebellious marbles. “Do you actually have the power to do that?” It’s regretful immediately.

He crosses his arms and steps closer in a menacing manner, leaning in with his gaze locked onto yours. "Honey, I have the power to do just about anything. Who said you could speak?" He scoffs and begins to pace angrily. However, his attitude is beyond irritating to you. You internally refuse to tolerate his behavior, especially if you’re going to be stuck with him for an indeterminable, but probably excruciatingly long, amount of time. He can't fire you — if he wanted to, he would have done it by now.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t speak to me that way, Mr. Danforth.” You croak out the words, trying to sound serious and intimidating but your breath is shaky and you sound downright terrified. Perfect, you think as he chuckles at your attempt.

“You wanna repeat that?” he asks, pulling out his vape. Christ, how much does this douchebag smoke?

You gulp, standing with your hands clasped together calmly. “I’d prefer if we kept a professional tone. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not. I’m not your indentured servant. I’m here to assist you and keep you out of trouble as much as possible. Do we have an understanding?” You hesitate for a minute, your eyes still locked with his. “If not, I have no problem giving your mother a call.”

He smirks, shaking his head with a condescending nature, but deep down, he knows you’re right. He can pretend all he wants, but you have the full power in this situation, and both of you know it. There’s only one thing Derek Danforth has a fear of, and it’s absolutely his mother.

You keep a straight face, trying to remain unfazed at his attitude as you wait for him to say something rude in response. However, he just looks at you annoyed, wearing a slight smirk, his vape filling his mouth with mango-flavored smoke.

“Don’t wake me up. Can you follow that simple rule, sweetheart? I’d prefer not to have any behavioral issues from you so soon,” he says with a condescending tone as he steps closer with his head tilted. You nod slowly, your face serious.

“Good. Now, I have personal chefs and maids. You’ll be at the dining table at 9:00 a.m. for breakfast, noon for lunch, and 7:00 p.m. for dinner. I couldn’t care less if you eat or not. You’re a big girl. You can take care of yourself, right?” His hand reaches up, hovering over your jawline as his fingers find the tip of your chin and lift your face to look him in the eyes.

Is he flirting with me right now? Does he hate me or not?

You give him a small smile. “Okay, got it.”

Releasing his grip on your chin, he leans against the wall with his arms crossed. “If you want your laundry done, you’ll have it in the black hamper in your closet by noon every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday. Your room is deeply cleaned every day at 4 p.m. Don’t be in here at that time.” You nod again, trying to memorize all of the times. I’m going to have to write this all down.

Derek, with a certain reluctance evident in his every move, begrudgingly agrees to give you a tour of the house. It's clear that he absolutely detests every single minute of this forced interaction. In his mind, he is a lone wolf. He doesn't need anyone. The thought of having to rely on or even consider the opinions of anyone else when making critical decisions is something he finds deeply unsettling.

Most of the time, his stubbornness stems from the fact that he is acutely aware that he's making poor decisions even before he makes them. A part of him knows that these decisions should have consequences, but his pride prevents him from seeking guidance, especially when his status prohibits any harm or discomfort that should be given to him.

And yet, despite his best efforts to push you away, he can't get rid of you. So, he shows you around the house, his teeth grinding audibly in frustration. Each room that he leads you into is a testament to his unwillingness to let you in, but he does it nonetheless, each step a battle against his own nature.

He shows you the living room, dining room, main kitchen, various lounges, gym, theatre, laundry room, game room, bar, art studio, three-tiered garage, maid's quarters, secondary kitchen, indoor pool, sauna, spa, storage room, expansive backyard, private office, and all 18 bathrooms and bedrooms.

It's ridiculous. No one needs a house this big or with this many rooms. This guy probably doesn't even use most of them for months on end. However, when he shows you the library, it's a different story.

Derek is an idiot. There's not a chance in hell that he enjoys reading in his spare time. The room most likely functions just for his desperate lawyers to reference for the many times he's been taken to court. Yet, the library is beautiful, being roughly the size of your entire apartment building.

It has a main level and a wooden spiral staircase to the second level, which is open in the middle to allow for the gigantic chandelier hanging there. Dark wood and beige tones encase everything except for the books. And God, there are so many books. Hundreds of thousands, at least. An endless section for every thought that's ever crossed the human mind. Immediately, you know that almost every second of your spare time will be spent in this room, reading until your eyes pop out of your skull.

Your jaw nearly touches the ground as he barely acknowledges the library. It means nothing to him, there's no doubt about it. He's probably spent less than an hour in this room in the many years he's lived in this house. It almost feels like your heart is ripped out of your chest as he barely pokes his head in, mumbling almost inaudibly, "This is the library." It's so much more than that. Yet, you follow him out as he shows you back to your room.

"Alright, sweetheart, do me a favor and don't bother me. I'll be in the living room." He turns to leave, still annoyed, but you speak up.

"Wait! Uh- I'm supposed to be with you almost at all times… according to your mother. That's what she hired me for. To discourage your… bad decisions."

He turns, pivoting on the heel of his obnoxious cowboy boots as he glares at you. "Do I get bonus points if I pretend to care?"

You just look at him. "What are you doing right now? Can I assist you at all?"

He steps closer, taking another hit of his vape as he raises his eyebrows at you. "Oh, oh yeah. I need tons of help while I’m watching a movie and getting a shoulder massage. What do you think, honey?"

Looking at the ground, then back up at him, you say, "Can I watch it with you?"

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You sit in the living room, across from Derek as a woman massages his shoulders and arms. He still seems annoyed, not even trying to acknowledge you. His eyes are focused on the TV screen situated at the front of the large room, his hands leading another vape to his lips. You hesitantly place your feet, crossed, on the coffee table in front of you.

Derek shoots a look at your shoes, his teeth gritting together as he tries not to blow up at you, your actions seeming like a blatant form of disrespect. You notice his look and slowly pull your feet down, planting them again on the rug and turning your attention back to the movie. The room is oddly silent besides the sounds of the bizarre action movie he’d picked out.

This is weird. You two need to talk.

"So… I’ve never been a personal assistant before. What kind of stuff do you think you’ll need me to do?" He turns his head to look at you, eyes hanging half open with a dazed expression as smoke falls from his lips.

"I don’t need an assistant. I don’t even want one. I really couldn’t care less about what you do," he answers, bluntly. His gaze lingers on yours, long enough to make you uncomfortable. It seems like that might be a goal of his.

You stand up, walking to the large bay window and gazing at the beautiful backyard that looks like it goes on for miles. "Okay…" you continue, "what does your typical day look like?"

He brushes off the woman kneading his shoulders and sits up, running a couple of fingers through his curly frost-tipped hair and continuing to smoke. "Usually hungover. I don’t really eat breakfast. Head to the office, sign paperwork and eat lunch. More paperwork. Meetings. Head home, usually go to a party. Dinner. Escorts at night." You nod slowly, processing this information.

"Is all you do for work just signing papers and attending meetings?"

He nods, gazing out the window behind you. "That's most of it. I'm the man in charge of the finances and big decisions, and I hire people to handle the bullshit."

You sit back down across from him, looking back at the movie that’s still playing. "Gotcha… I guess… I can help arrange your schedule, then?"

He just shrugs, turning back to the screen. "Whatever makes you feel useful, sweetheart." He chuckles to himself obnoxiously, continuing, "You really are useless anyways.”

There’s an awkward silence as you process his cruel words. A full emptiness hangs between the two of you, drowning out your thoughts in static.

You hate his cocky attitude. More than that, you hate the fact that he doesn’t seem to care about anything or anyone other than himself.

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As you climb into bed later that night, you can only think about how this is all going to work. And also about how incredibly inviting Derek’s guest room bed is. Words can barely describe the feeling. Comfort isn't enough to label the softness surrounding your entire body.

You wish that comfort could fill your head at this moment. Unfortunately, anxiety and frustration are taking up too much space.

You know those stories where a hero is thrown into a pit with a fire-breathing dragon and has to try and escape but ends up taming the beast and then it helps them to get out? You feel like that. You've been hired to tame a beast. The beast that is Derek Danforth.

Except, it's an impossible task. And the woman who hired you knows it, because he's Derek fucking Danforth.

He’s clearly determined to make you as miserable as you were hired to make him.

You'll surely lose your mind if you continue taking the verbal abuse this man is clearly not afraid to throw at you. But you want the money, and you're not willing to give up that easily (even if it sounds much more enjoyable right about now).

There’s a lot of ways to deal with the situation you’ve been thrusted into.

But there’s only one way that might be able to take away some of your misery.

As hard as it is, you have to be completely unbothered by the entity that this man possesses. His insults rolling off of your sunkissed skin, his arrogance blinded by your positivity.

You pull the velvety covers over your bare shoulders, your brain melting into the pillow as you assure yourself that you have it within you to overcome the challenge that assuredly lies ahead.

It can’t be that bad, can it?

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✧ author’s note: sorry for the really cheesy ending LMAO it was the best idea i had. i’m violently nervous to post this i feel like it’s terrible but also there’s some parts i’m really proud of?? so generally conflicted right now but i hope you enjoyed reading it :) there will definitely be more (considering the complete cliffhanger) however the length of continuation is definitely balanced on the reception i receive on this (if this was compete garbage i will absolutely accept it and move on)

also the outfit i wrote derek into wearing in this is something that ive been nonstop thinking about, i just need josh hutcherson to wear it with frosted tips and his diamond earring and do a little photoshoot. that’s all i ask <3

✧ anyways thank you buckets for reading this, i hope you have a fantastic day :)

#jhutch #josh hutcherson #derek danforth #jhutch1992 #the beekeeper #derek danforth x reader #fem reader #character x reader #praying this isn’t absolute garbage #please be honest if this is terrible #thank you #fluff #angst #slowburn #enemies to lovers

[radiant-reid]

So I always wanted a scene where Reid keeps going home right after work and the BAU is sick of him being all anti-social and skipping out on team dinners/happy hour and stuff so they knock on his door to literally drag him out for a fun night and he answers but his gf is in his apartment and the BAU can clearly tell that they were just having sex and they're all so shook

you want a scene ?? i'll write you a scene

"I'm worried about him," Penelope says, leaning against Spencer's desk as she inconspicuously looks over his things for some sign of what he's been doing.

"Baby girl, don't worry about him," Morgan tells her, ready to leave the office for the bar. "He never comes out anyway."

She shakes her head adamantly, looking at JJ for support. "Normally he comes out, even just to drink apple juice."

"Maybe he had plans." Emily offered in his defense.

They were all thinking the same thing about why he might have been sneaking home early. Any change in his behavior triggered that response, and none of them had seen one like that until recently.

"If it makes you feel better, we can go by his place, see what he's doing?" JJ offers, squeezing her concerned friend's arm.

"That would make me feel better, and I'd be able to enjoy my Mai Tai if I know he's okay." She agrees.

The drive back into DC doesn't have the usual rush hour traffic, and they arrive at Spencer's apartment building together with the tension in the air, and the concern for what state Spencer's in, they silently make their way up to his apartment.

Penelope knocks on the door, desperate to relieve her worries.

~

A knock on the door is not what you and Spencer are expecting so soon. Thankfully, you're both dressed- unlike half an hour ago-

You frown at him, watching him hang his suit jacket up since it was dumped on the floor almost as soon as he got in.

"Pizza?" Spencer suggests.

It must be. You're not expecting anyone else tonight.

You get out of his bed, tugging the shirt of his that you borrowed out of his closet down. "I'll get drinks." You tell him, walking to the kitchen.

Spencer nods, grabbing his wallet from his pants and following you out of his bedroom to the door. "Uh, hey." You hear him say, confused that it doesn't sound related to pizza.

Curiosity gets the best of you, and you make your way out into the living room to see what's going on. Instead of it just being Spencer in the room, it's four other people you recognize from various photos throughout his apartment.

All four of them send looks between you and Spencer, clearly having made some correct assumptions. It's not hard to when Spencer's cheeks are bright red and he's shifting his weight on his feet. You look guilty too, even just from what you're wearing and the embarrassed expression on your face because you know they know.

"So, you're okay, and we should go," JJ speaks first, looking like she wants to run out of there.

"He's more than okay." Emily giggles, raising her eyebrows at both of you.

Morgan holds his fist out to Spencer as a form of congratulations, and your dorky boyfriend wraps his hand around it.

"Uh, so, guys?" Spencer trails off, looking past them at the door like he's prompting them to leave. Penelope pouts and somehow, Spencer knows how to interpret that. "Everyone, this is Y/n. Y/n, these are my annoying, interpreting friends." He introduces you. He speaks again after another look from Penelope. "Yes, she's my girlfriend."

The blonde squeals before she can help herself. "Tell me you're bringing her to Rossi's. You have to." She insists before looking at you. "Tell me you're coming to Rossi's tomorrow."

"Sure, if you leave now." Sassy Spencer comes out, and you avoid a giggle. With his threat, and the fact they didn't know you were already scheduled to come, they left, sending waves to you and you shyly wave back, aware that tomorrow night was going to be interesting.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction