#i am reminded of an argument i had with someone and that person said that they loved me right in the middle of the fight

[blitzyn]

rookie mistake

dottore x m!reader

Request: Requests are open right? I hope so 🤞 Would I be able to ask for a sub!(male/amab)reader X dom!dottore? With some blackmail and coercion, preferably leaning towards dubious consent but I’m am a-ok with non-con elements, with a fatui/subordinate reader? If you could add in a small scene of him continuing while talking with someone outside the door that’s be awesome 😎 - Anonymous

Synopsis: You accidentally invade Dottore's office in search of intel.

a/n -> yall i know that i said i was on the fence about writing for genshin, but it was dottore and i love him plus i really liked this idea despite it having collected dust in my inbox for decades. whoever requested this: i love your mind and im so sorry it took me forever to decide to write this!! but just a reminder to whoever sees this, i will not be writing for fontaine unless stated otherwise!!

wc -> 3.6k

cw -> non-con, blackmail, coercion, blowjob, deepthroat, literally getting caught, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, standing doggy position, fatuus/infiltrator reader, guys he calls you a rat because you're a spy, not beta read

Your job was straightforward. But it was also one of the most grueling missions you've ever been assigned to.

With your status as an elite spy, you were tasked with infiltrating the Fatui as one of their ranks to gather information regarding the locations and purposes of specific forts to prevent potential attacks and keep the organization from acquiring knowledge valuable to their cause.

There was absolutely no room for error, lest you get caught and pay for that mistake with your life.

Fortunately enough, the mask everyone was required to wear (with the exception of the Harbingers) concealed your identity, allowing you to execute your orders with relative ease. Of course, it wasn't completely simple. You had to fight your way up the ranks in order to even get a hint of the plan from your superiors, which took years to even get recognized for your efforts.

Several times have you had to go against your moral compass. Several times, you doubted your abilities and questioned if you were even making a dent in the Fatui's plans. Although, when you heard a faint argument due to a lack of resources, you knew you were on the right track.

But one day, you noticed that an agent's office door was left unlocked. There was no one in the hallways, and not a soul knew that you had stolen an important document that recorded data for some valuable supply that you didn't care enough to read about.

Making sure you tucked the paper deep inside your coat pocket, you strained your ears to ensure you were alone before taking the risk and entering the isolated office. It looked like your standard room. Boring, silent, and strangely barren of many decorations. You took a moment to inspect the area before deciding to take a step forward when your blood suddenly ran cold.

"I don't use this office very often," a voice said from behind you. You just about jumped out of your skin, swiveling your head to the person behind you. It took you a moment to put a face to the name you'd heard so many times before, but when you did, you quickly regretted your decision to search for any additional information. "But even so, don't you think it's rude to invade someone's personal space?"

You froze, unable to find the right words. Nothing could explain why you were currently snooping around in an office that wasn't yours—much, much less when it belonged to the Second of the Eleven Harbingers.

You inwardly cursed your naive eagerness to do more than you were asked. Your years of experience as a spy should've kept you from making such a rookie mistake, and now all your work was going down the drain.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, fighting the urge to fidget at the overwhelming feeling of his gaze on you, analyzing your appearance. He broke the silence with a hum, neither intrigued nor entirely disappointed.

"I have heard others spread rumors of a mole within our ranks but thought nothing more of their words as an excuse for their inability to secure our resources," Dottore mused, raising a hand to his chin. "I assume that the mole is you?"

You couldn't bring yourself to reply. Your throat was dry, and your stomach twisted into knots. Not that he cared.

"I must applaud your efforts," he said, a slight smirk decorating his pale face. "Not many people evade our eyes so easily, and for as long as you have."

"But, a word of advice—" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a familiar device. He presented it to you, watching in amusement when you suddenly patted yourself down before looking back up towards him. It was the device you used to contact your organization. "—Make sure you clean up after yourself. It's impolite to leave your items lying around."

You don't remember dropping it or forgetting it somewhere. But that didn't matter anymore. You were stuck in the present with no way of getting out of this situation.

He flipped the device over, dully inspecting it as he continued talking. "After going through your data log, it wasn't hard figuring out what you were going for next. While this normally wouldn't spark any interest in me, this resource just so happens to be vital in my current experiment, and I can't have you tampering with my results."

He walked forward, stopping just a few feet in front of you. He was close enough for you to inhale his scent of sterile rubbing alcohol and metal. It made your nose burn as you watched him intently, tensing and fighting the urge to back away out of fear of angering him somehow. The document in your pocket felt unusually heavy.

"Although, I didn't expect such a seasoned spy like yourself to make such an amateur move," he hummed, ignoring your need for personal space to pull your mask off. And you were helpless against it all. "[Name] [L.Name], is it? Why don't you read the paper you have right now?"

That's when you knew you fucked up big time.

With a shaky hand, you reached into your coat pocket to pull out the report, unfolding it only to realize that it wasn't a report at all. It was a blank piece of paper. But you could've sworn there was writing on it when you grabbed it earlier!

He could see the confusion on your face clear as day as a laugh left his lips, tapping a rolled-up piece of parchment on the tip of your nose to regain your attention. "I believe this is what you're after." With a flick of his wrist, he unfurled the paper that contained everything you needed.

"What—" you gasped, briefly staring at your paper before looking back up.

"It's a shame you didn't think to check the ink before you took it," he said, faux disappointment laced in his voice before it reverted back to its normal tone just as fast. "The ink 'disappears' when subjected to anything higher than room temperature. When you put it in your pocket, your body heat, coupled with the insulation from your coat, affected the writing and turned it invisible."

Fuck.

He planned this out.

You swallowed nervously, taking a deep inhale to steel your nerves, even when it didn't do much to help you. "How... how long have you known?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Not long, really," Dottore casually replied, as if he didn't hold your entire life in the palm of his hand. "I caught you just in time."

"Now," he said with a voice that demanded your attention. Not that he needed to try, anyway. His very presence was almost impossible to ignore. "I'm willing to offer you two options. One, I hand this device over to one of my lovely agents and have them torture you for answers then promptly dispose of you. Or, two—" He waved the communicator in the air, taunting you. "—I have you make it up to me."

It was obvious which one you'd be more tempted to accept, but you knew that accepting an offer such as this from Dottore, of all people, was not a good idea. He knows he has you right where he wants you.

"The second one. I... I'll make it up to you." The words tasted like acid as you forced them out, watching a pleased smirk rise on his face.

"Good," he muttered mostly to himself. Leisurely, he turned around and walked towards the door, shutting it before refocusing back on you.

"Get on your knees," he ordered, placing his hands behind his back as he waited for you to move. He observed silently as you obeyed, staring at the floor in shame. "Crawl to me."

He sighed impatiently upon seeing the conflicted and perplexed expression on your face. "You want to be a rat so badly, don't you? So get down and crawl to me like one."

You were given no choice but to comply despite the absurdity of his request. Hanging your head, you inched forward as the cold, wooden floors painfully dug into your knees, stopping once the sight of his boots came into view. You held back a flinch when you heard the fabric of his clothes rustle as he leaned down to lift your head up by your hair, forcing you to your knees.

Instantly, your eyes zeroed in on the prominent bulge in Dottore's pants, making you painfully aware of what he wanted you to do next. With a suspiciously gentle tug, he brought you slightly closer to him. You could tell he was getting impatient.

"Well?" He questioned, a frown gracing his features. "You don't need instructions. Go on."

You glanced up at him with blatant disgust in your eyes before raising your hands to undo his pants and reveal his semi-hard cock. You suppressed a grimace as you held it in your hand, steeling your nerves just enough to be able to lick a stripe down the side. Flattening your tongue, you moved back up to take the tip in your mouth, letting your saliva slip past the corners of your lips to lubricate the rest of his dick.

You half-assed it all, not bothering to take it all the way down or, at the very least, use your tongue. However, Dottore caught on quick enough with an annoyed sigh. You supposed you shouldn't have been surprised when he tangled his fingers into your hair and shoved you down, but you were caught off guard either way.

You were embarrassed to hear a loud gag sound from you, choking and sputtering on his cock whenever the tip of it slid down your throat. You dug your nails into his thighs when he suddenly shifted and pressed the sole of his boot onto your dick, letting out a muffled cry that only served to please him. He made no move to rub it against you, simply keeping it firmly on your crotch—to keep you in line, you assumed.

You squirmed, internally cringing at the feeling of your drool seeping out the corners of your lips. Fluttering your eyes shut, you tried to focus on your breathing. In and out, in and out, in and—

"Don't look away," he said, refusing to give you a moment of respite, shoving his cock all the way inside your mouth, harshly tugging on your hair at the same time. He fucked your face, ignoring your sounds of protest as he battered your throat. He laughed at your struggle, entertained with the way your tears gathered at your lash line.

"Awh, is this too much for you?" He taunted, shifting his hand to the back of your head to push you down to the base. He sighed contentedly at the feeling of your throat tightening and spasming around him, gently rocking his hips. "You should've thought that through before you accepted the job."

With a painful tug, he pulled you off of his cock. A trail of saliva connected you to him, which you quickly broke when you turned your head to cough into your elbow. He ordered you to get up, unwilling to wait a second before he hauled you up by your arm impatiently. He effortlessly moved your body, pressing your cheek against the wooden door as he pushed on your back, forcing it to arch.

Deeming your position acceptable, he tucked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pants to yank them down to your knees. Your breath hitched at the sudden change in temperature, refusing to lean back and seek any warmth from Dottore.

With one hand on your hip, the other strayed toward your ass, spreading it to inspect your hole. It took effort to keep yourself from fidgeting under his gaze, and you opened your mouth in a daring attempt to get him to hurry up when he suddenly spat on your hole, shoving two fingers inside soon after.

You let out a grunt, clawing at the door he had you lean against. It was an uncomfortably foreign sensation but you were in no position to struggle. A burning sensation emanated from your hole as his fingers forced their way inside, wasting no time to move in a scissoring motion. They brushed against a spot that sent sparks up your spine every so often, taunting you wordlessly.

"You're enjoying this," Dottore said, not as a question or comment, but as a statement. And the worst thing was, he was right. No matter how much your mind made you hate it, your body told a different tale.

You let out a displeased sigh, pressing your forehead against the cold door, not daring to make your words known. Not that he minded. He enjoyed forcing your reactions out of you just as much as having them given to him without a fight.

He made it known with a jab to your prostate, sending a shock up and down your spine so suddenly it nearly made your knees buckle. That was all he gave you before abruptly pulling away, leaving you uncomfortably empty until the quiet ptuh! sound of him spitting on his cock filled your ears.

Fuck. This was actually happening. And you had no way out.

In a last ditch effort to maintain your dignity, you tried to push yourself off of the door but was quickly pressed—borderline slammed—back down with a hand to the back of your neck.

"I don't think you'll enjoy the alternative," he said, the undertones of irritation and impatience evident in his voice. He squeezed the sides of your neck hard enough to ensure your compliance, nearly scowling when you shifted in place. "So be still and behave like a good little thing."

Without missing a beat, he lined the tip of his cock up against your slick asshole and pushed his way inside, forcing a strained cry from your throat. He made sure it hurt, purposefully moving slowly to make you feel every inch and vein.

You whimpered, trying to breathe and calm yourself down. The stretch fucking hurt and you instinctively shifted your hips forward in a futile attempt to ease the pain when Dottore held your hips to yank you back, shoving the last few inches inside you.

You let out a strangled groan, biting your lower lip to stifle your noises as searing pain tore through you. You breathed heavily through your nose, feeling the weight of disgust settle in your chest when you heard him sigh in satisfaction at how tight you were. You winced when he pulled out slowly, only for him to slam back inside with a loud slap.

You jolted, just about ramming your head against the door in surprise. You grit your teeth and pressed a hand against it as the wood audibly creaked and groaned under your weight when he began to move. You tensed upon hearing faint voices beyond the door, peering back over your shoulder in a pathetic attempt to get him to stop.

"W—Wait," you muttered, breath hitching. "There's someone outside...!"

"Then I suppose you're just going to have to be quiet," he replied with an upward quirk to his lips before angling himself in a way that made his cock press up against you just right. You were disgusted to feel heat beginning to pool in your gut, forcing moans past your lips no matter how hard you tried to stop them. You covered your mouth with a hand as you listened to the noises approach. Dottore was (somewhat) merciful enough to press his pelvis against your ass, though that didn't stop him from rocking his hips to cruelly grind his cock into your prostate.

"Dottore?" It took you a moment to process the voice as electricity shot up and down your spine, trying your damn best to stifle your whimpers. "Are you in there?"

It's Pantalone, you recognize.

"Yes. Is there something you need from me?" Dottore replied, shifting his hold on you to start shallowly thrusting. You squeezed your eyes shut, listening to the painfully loud squelching.

"Not at the moment. I thought I heard something... else," Pantalone hummed with a knowing tone, sending a wave of mortification through your body.

"Then if that is all, I'd prefer it if you left," Dottore said, his amusement clear as day in his voice. He didn't even try to hide it as he gave you a punishing thrust, the resounding slap mixing in with your moan as it echoed off the walls. "I'm busy."

A laugh came from behind the door. "Very well. I'll leave you to it."

Dottore refused to wait for him to leave when he started again, this time fucking you so hard you were convinced there'd be a bruise. His fingers dug into your skin, yanking you back in time with his thrusts.

Your legs shook and you bit your lip until you bled, but it hardly did a thing to silence you.

"Look at you," Dottore mused, reaching around to hold your aching cock in his hand. He gave it a squeeze before jerking off the top half, focusing on the tip. "You were never meant to be a spy. You'd be so much better off as my little pet, wouldn't you agree?"

You let out a loud moan, instinctively looking down. You didn't even realize you were so hard, but as you watched the head of your cock drool precum onto the ground, everything felt twice as intense.

"N—No!" You choked out, clawing desperately at the creaking door. "I'll never—I'll never be your pet!"

"No?" Dottore laughed, sounding so unbothered it sent a spike of fear through you, reminding you of just how fucked you were. Swiftly, he swiped his fingers over the tip of your cock before bringing his hand up to push them into your mouth, making you taste your precum. With the palm of his hand, he pressed it against your chin to force your head back.

You let out a groan, feeling the strain on your upper back and neck as you stared at him with fear and disgust.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," he reminded, pulling out the communicator with his other hand. He slightly shook it, taunting you. "Don't you remember that actions have consequences?"

He pocketed the device as he slid his hand away from your mouth to bring it to the back of your neck, holding it tightly as he harshly pressed you against the cold wood. The side of your face ached, but, much to your horror, the pain only went straight to your cock.

"So just stand there and enjoy it," he said with a groan, his dick pulsing rhythmically as he savored the sensation of your walls clamping tightly around him. "Don't fight how much you like this."

"I don-" Just then, he rammed his cock into your prostate over and over, reducing you into a babbling mess that only proved his point.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, ashamed that you loved the feeling of him so deep inside you, but you hated that it was him fucking you. You could feel the heat in your stomach intensify with each harsh thrust, feel the way your balls tightened in a way you knew you couldn't stop.

"Please..." you whimpered, weak against the wet slapping sounds that filled the office. "I don't want to...!"

You came with a whorish moan, arching your back as your cock spilled cum onto the floor. You could hear the sound of Dottore's laugh through the haze of your orgasm as sparks coursed through your veins, knees nearly buckling.

"Yes you do," he groaned, voice slightly strained. You could faintly hear his labored breathing the closer he got to his own orgasm, noticing the way his movements grew sloppier and weaker. He reached around again, jerking you off despite the lurking overstimulation.

You tightened, sending him right over the edge as he slammed his cock inside you a final time, pressing himself flush against your ass as he came. It was uncomfortably warm as he throbbed in time with each spurt, savoring the way you practically tried to milk him dry.

But he didn't let it last long as he pulled out with a satisfied sigh, enjoying the sight of you, shaky and vulnerable, before him. He graciously gave you a moment before commanding you to fix yourself, stepping back to adjust his own appearance.

"Now," he said, sternly, like he didn't just fuck you within a damn inch of your life. "Why don't you send a message to your organization stating that you're not going back."

He handed you the communicator with a smug smirk, relishing in your distress. Taking in a deep breath to steel your nerves, you accepted the device, reluctantly typing in a message before returning it back to him with regret written on your face.

"Oh, don't look so upset," he pouted, pocketing the device. You weren't sure when you'd see it again. "It'll be easier for you if you cooperate."

He made his way past you, opening the door, sending shivers down your spine at the sudden chill. "But right now, you have a lot of work to do."

cross-posted on ao3

#il dottore #reader insert #male reader #reader smut #male reader insert #reader #male reader smut #x male reader #x reader #dottore x male reader #dottore x reader #dottore x you #dottore x reader smut #dottore x male reader smut #cw noncon #tw noncon #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #dom character #top character #sub reader #bottom reader

[princessmisery666]

Just Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating. 

W/C: 4,901.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills. 

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.

It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself. 

So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks? 

Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings. 

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers. 

“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?” 

“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?” 

“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”

“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.

“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”

“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?” 

“What? No!”

Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”

“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.” 

“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”

Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”

“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.

Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.

Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it. 

“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.

The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”

You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.

That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.

The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.

It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry. 

The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!” 

You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.

Asshole. How dare he judge you! 

“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares. 

You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”

Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.

“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.” 

You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.

“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy. 

Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”

“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation. 

“That’s the one.” 

“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”

You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her. 

“Thank you, Miss…” 

“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom. 

You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.” 

If only she knew. 

You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder. 

“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.” 

You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you. 

Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean. 

“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.  

“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?” 

He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”

“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.

You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?” 

“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.” 

“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.

The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them. 

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”

“Probably, but that's his problem.”

Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.

“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.

That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”

“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”

You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with. 

“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?” 

“Girls versus boys?”

“Obviously.”

He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back. 

He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.” 

He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks. 

Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly. 

“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.

The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.

You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer. 

You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“For what?” he asks. 

“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”

“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.” 

“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”

“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.” 

He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home. 

Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away. 

“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.

“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.” 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.

“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking. 

He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.” 

“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.

The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared. 

Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.” 

“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”

He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.

He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure. 

He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?” 

“Only if you say yes?”

“Pick me up at ten.”

He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.

You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.

Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.

“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once. 

“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”

“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown. 

“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”

“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”

You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you. 

“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”

“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.” 

“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.” 

“We were going to get married.”

You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.

“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”

Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.

Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”

Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.

“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”

Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”

“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.

Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.

Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.

“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”

Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.” 

“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”

“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”

You grimace, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.” 

He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”

You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice. 

The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”

Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.

‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago. 

A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand. 

Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.

Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.

He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.

He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?

But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.

“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”

He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time. 

“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room. 

“I did it already,” he calls after you. 

“I’ll put it in the dryer then.” 

He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.

“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.” 

You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress. 

“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile. 

“Say what?” 

He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”

“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….” 

“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.” 

He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.” 

You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.” 

“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him. 

“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”

“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”

“I get why you’re…”

The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.

He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.

The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself. 

He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.

At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.” 

You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.

Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.

He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”

The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass. 

“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”

You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.

You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”

Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity. 

“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.” 

“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.” 

He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”

You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”

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Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

#dean winchester #jacklesversebingo23 #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #reader insert #female reader #dean winchester angst #spn fanfic #angst #spn fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fandom #dean winchester x you #you x dean winchester

[jae-bummer]

Erasing Boundaries

Request: Hi I hope you're well~~I'd really like to see no.12 with Bang Chan from the prompt list. 👀 I'd also like to say that I've been a long time follower and I really love reading your works! Thank you for putting the time and effort!! <3

Prompt:

12) When your bias tries to delicately friendzone you, they realize you just wanted to be friends in the first place. Shortly after, they realize they’re the ones falling for you.

Pairing: Stray Kids Bang Chan x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

"We're just friends."

"You're a trustworthy person, Chan," Lee Know muttered from his spot on the studio couch. "So I don't understand why you're lying to me right now."

"I'm not lying!" Chan said, spinning around in his office chair. "I really don't have feelings for Y/N."

"Right," Lee Know muttered. "Because instead of multiple feelings, you have one feeling, and it is love."

"Seriously?" Chan groaned, flopping his head back. "Why are you even saying this?"

"You follow them around like a lovesick puppy," Lee Know sighed, pulling out his phone. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

"I feel insulted," Chan pouted. "I am not lovesick, nor am I a puppy."

"A lovesick wolf then."

Chan groaned again as he spun away from his younger member.

After a moment of silence, he turned back around. "Do you think Y/N has feelings for me?"

"Probably," Lee Know hummed, not bothering to look up. "But I thought you didn't have feelings for them."

"I don't!" Chan gasped. "Maybe...maybe I should talk to them."

"And confess? Good idea."

"No!" Chan chuckled. "To just confirm that we're friends and nothing more than that."

"Are you sure you really want to create that boundary?" Lee Know asked with lifted brows. "You're friend zoning yourself."

"I'm friend zoning, Y/N," Chan nodded. "This idea that we like each other romantically must have come from how they interact with me. I know I haven't been flirting."

"I'm sorry," Lee Know sighed. "Are you finally having a mental break? Or are we living two incredibly different lives?"

"I think you're seeing what you want to see," Chan nodded finitely.

"Hello, pot?" Lee Know laughed. "This is kettle. You're black."

"I can't be in a relationship right now," Chan sighed, switching tactics. "We've got too much going on."

"There are far too many arguments I can make," Lee Know muttered. "And frankly I'm exhausted."

"Good," Chan grinned. "I'll let you know how the talk goes."

"Please, don't."

..

"Why was your text so ominous?" you asked, plopping across Chan's bed. Taking a long sip from your frozen coffee, you looked up to see him pacing back and forth in front of you.

"Ominous?" he muttered. "It wasn't ominous. I just asked you to come over."

"You said we-" you cleared your throat, trying to pitch your voice deeper to match Chan's tone. ""needed to talk.""

"Well, it wasn't so much of a need as it is a want," he sighed, finally stopping and sitting down beside you.

You narrowed your eyes at your friend, trying to figure out what was going on in his head. Normally he had at least a hundred things swirling around up there, but today seemed to have a hundred and one.

"You're kind of starting to freak me out," you grumbled, sitting up from your lounging position to better look at him.

"No need," he said quickly. "I just...I wanted to make sure something was clear between us."

"Okay..." you trailed off.

"We're friends, yeah?"

"If we weren't, I'd consider the past year to be a cruel joke," you teased, but instantly stopped as Chan's face remained solemn.

"Chris?" you squeaked. "We are friends...right?"

"Of course, we are!" he gasped, moving to squeeze your knee, but stopping short. Taking a moment to compose himself, he finally swiveled toward you. ""Y/N, you're one of my people."

Your heart gave a small flip. Chan was one of your people too. As someone you could always go to for advice or comfort, he reminded you of the type of guy who was your older sibling's friend that you always had a childhood crush on. You reconciled long ago that someone like him was out of your league, or at least that was your perception of it.

"And as one of my people, I want you to know how important you are to me."

"Chris," you hummed, holding your hand up in the air. "This is awfully sentimental for a Thursday afternoon."

"Right," he winced. "I'll save you my speech that I definitely didn't take an hour figuring out last night."

Your eyes grew wide.

"Joking," he chuckled unconvincingly.

You would find out later that he, in fact, was not joking.

"Long story short," he continued, unable to meet your eyes. "We're friends."

"Yep."

"Just. Friends." he said, emphasizing each word.

"Hearing you loud and clear," you nodded, still unsure what the climax of the conversation would be.

"Good, good," he nodded, reaching toward the drink you had brought him. "So, how was your day?"

"Wait, I'm sorry," you coughed. "Was that it?"

"Well, yeah," he said, furrowing his brow. "Why?"

"I legitimately had anxiety on my way over here," you gasped. "And it was simply for you to tell me something I already knew?"

"You had anxiety?" Chan pouted, his expression soft. "That wasn't my intention at all! It's just that the members kept hinting to me that they thought we were involved, and I wanted to make sure the record was set straight with everyone and-"

"Take a breath, Chris," you sighed. You patted him lightly on the shoulder. "I may have had anxiety, but I also am relieved to know it was over something so silly. I know we're friends."

"We are," he nodded. "You're the Patrick to my SpongeBob, the-"

"Wait, why do I have to be Patrick?" you muttered.

"Because you live under a rock and can't open a jar on your own," he grinned.

"Ah, right," you teased. "And you're SpongeBob because you never stay hydrated and have an unhealthy fixation with your job."

"Low blow, Y/N."

"The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

...

"I messed up."

"You're right," Lee Know hummed. "We should have given Hyunjin up for adoption years ago. Should I start looking for the closest fire station?"

"That is not what I meant," Chan muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I messed up with Y/N. Bad."

"Please," Lee Know said quietly. "Please tell me you did not do what I think you did."

"I made it clear how we are thoroughly, only friends," Chan winced.

Lee Know inhaled deeply through his nose before holding it and letting it out through his mouth.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Chan whispered.

"Give me a minute," Lee Know grumbled. "My therapist taught me to focus on my breathing when I wanted to get violent."

"Minho," Chan deadpanned.

"Yes, I know, you're my hyung, and I shouldn't speak to you this way, but damnit, man!"

"I know!" Chan cried. "I messed up."

"As you keep saying!" Lee Know sighed. "Now how are you going to fix it?"

"Fix it?" Chan chirped. "I shouldn't just wallow in my misery?"

"Let's try this," Lee Know said slowly. "If the roles here were reversed, what would you tell me?"

Chan scrunched up his face. "Well, I guess I'd tell you that it's okay to make mistakes and this wasn't a serious one. No one is going to die, except you, maybe of embarrassment. You can try to clear your conscience and confess, or just really make a go at trying to be only friends."

"And that's when I would say...?"

"Full steam ahead, let's make an ass out of ourselves," Chan chuckled.

"Correct," Lee Know grinned. "So let Y/N know how you feel. How you really feel."

"One problem," Chan sighed. "In the process of me friend zoning them, I'm pretty sure they friend zoned me twice as hard."

"What do you mean?"

"They said they knew all along we were only friends."

"Do you think just maybe," Lee Know said, tilting his head. "They were following your lead?"

"I mean...maybe?"

"Well," Lee Know grinned. "Time to find out."

...

"Christopher Bang!" you gasped, flying through the front door of the dorm. "I swear on every star in the sky, and EVEN the one's on Felix's cheeks, that if you summon me again with a "we need to talk" text, I'm going to end you!"

"I don't have much tact when I'm nervous," Chan admitted from the living room sofa. He cringed as he looked up at you. "You look nice today."

"I don't want compliments!" you huffed. "I want an explanation!"

"Okay, and you deserve one," he said calmly. "But first, may I interest you in a beverage?"

"Stop stalling."

"Alright, alright," he grumbled. Pushing himself up from the cushions, he came to stand in front of you. It looked like he hadn't slept in days (which wasn't entirely uncommon) but it seemed to really be wearing on him more than usual. "Our conversation yesterday-"

"Wasn't much of a conversation," you finished. "More like just stating the obvious but continue."

"Whatever it was," Chan sighed. "I was wrong."

"You were...wrong?"

"Yes."

You bit your lower lip, not failing to notice the way it drew Chan's eyes. "So are you saying we're not friends?"

"We are," he said quickly. "But from my perspective, that isn't the full truth."

You waited, unsure of what that could possibly mean.

"I told you yesterday that you were one of my people," he said softly. "But that wasn't entirely accurate. If I was being truthful, with you and myself, I would have said you're my person."

Lifting your brows, you tried not to stagger back. Was he actually about to tell you that he had feelings for you? After you had resolved yourself to live with the shadow of unrequited love?

"I care about you in ways that a normal friend wouldn't," he continued. His voice remained quiet, but he had moved closer. "And I understand if you only see me in that brotherly way, that's okay. I get it, but I drove myself nuts last night playing over our conversation. It was a mistake to try to draw a boundary in our relationship, especially when I honestly wanted to erase any we did have."

"Chris-"

"I'm a mess," he whispered. "I'm stubborn and obsessive and make so many mistakes. I'm tired and worn out...but if you can accept all of that...I'll try to be the best version of myself for you."

You stayed quiet, only able to blink up at him as you processed this new information. It felt as if someone was blowing a balloon in your chest, and it was destined to pop at any moment.

"But also, no pressure," he said quickly. "I'd rather be your friend than nothing at all."

"Silly boy," you said softly, only mildly concerned that you would spook him if you came at the situation too enthusiastically. Crossing the small amount of space between the two of you, you stuck out your bottom lip. "I see the best version of you every day. It's just that some days, your best is going to look different depending on what you have to give. Every trait you listed as a weakness has a strength to it. You're stubborn, but that makes you determined. You're obsessive, but you're committed. And with every mistake you make, you learn. It's okay to recognize the flaws in yourself, but you have to recognize the other side of all that. I care about every side of you, Chris. Every day, some days, whatever you're willing to give...I'm going to take."

You could see Chan's eyes go glassy. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."

"Good," you smiled. "So yes, I care about you in a more than friend way."

You gave yourself a mental high five. Suddenly, the unattainable childhood crush knew you existed, and wanted you back. How often does that happen?

"I don't deserve you," he hummed, cautiously pulling you into his chest. Wrapping his strong arms around you, he gave a loving squeeze. "But I'm glad you think I do."

Kissing him playfully on the underside of his jaw, you laughed. "Shut up, SpongeBob."

#bang chan #christopher bahng #stray kids #skz #bahng christopher chahn #stray kids chan #stray kids bang chan #skz chan #skz bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fluff #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #skz fluff #stray kids scenrios

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being upset that my boyfriend of 3 years doesn't remember our anniversary even though i know he has adhd? ☕️☕️

I (26 W) have been dating my partner (32 M) for over 3 years now. He is officially diagnosed with ADHD and I am currently waiting for my own diagnosis for ADHD. He got diagnosed shortly before we got together and he has opened to me about how insecure he is over his disabilities causing a rift between us since all his previous relationships end with his partners leaving after they "get tired of dealing with his issues" because he also has autism and has been rude before in regards to my weight despite knowing that i am recovered from an eating disorder and this is the context in which his insecurities were disclosed to me. I also don't mean rude like accidentally, he literally put his hands on my stomach and said "what is this" after we had already had several Big Fights in regards to his previously rude behavior. For further context, I told him on our second date that I have a strict boundary around food and my weight and would appreciate it if he kept comments about my body weight or how much i eat to himself because it's triggering for me.

I try to be mindful of his limitations but recently, he asked me if he had forgotten our anniversary. This wouldn't bother me as much if it wasn't our third anniversary coming up in a couple of weeks and if I hadn't repeatedly told me over our time together the exact date of our anniversary. Now, I don't expect him to remember dates off the top of his head. I struggle with that information myself but what I DO hold against him is the fact that he KNOWS he forgets things and doesnt make ANY effort to have a failsafe against that. I put everything in my phone and he WORKS in tech so he knows how easy it is to set a repeat event with reminders nowadays so I don't understand why he can't just fucking figure out how to remember our anniversary without constantly making me be the one to remind him. I have told him exactly this and asked him why he didn't write it down over the last 3 years if he knows he's bad with dates. he said "that's a good point" and that was that. Now, he keeps trying to manipulate the information out of me by asking me when I'm like half asleep because he "thought i might slip up and just tell him."

Am I in the wrong for being mad over this? it feels like he doesn't care enough to do the bare minimum of being in a relationship with another person. I've dated others before with ADHD and it's never been a fucking issue before for them to remember our anniversary. I myself put in the effort when I care about someone to do the bare minimum and write down information I want to remember about someone. I just don't understand why I feel so guilty over getting mad about this when I feel like I have every right to be upset because it's not like I haven't been forthcoming before, it's not like i haven't repeatedly told him over the years and he puts in birthdays to his calendar so like why doesn't he care enough to put our anniversary into it? He wants to marry me but I dont want to spend the rest of my life reminding him to care enough about me to remember things like my birthday, our anniversary or my eating disorder.

But I also know that expecting people with ADHD to remember things is kind of an ableist move and I don't want to start an argument where I'm being a dick to his disabilities. So WIBTA if I decided to make this into a big deal because it is for me knowing my partner has ADHD and cannot help being so forgetful all the time?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[plutonianeris]

𝖒𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖘𝖆 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖏𝖚𝖈𝖙 𝖆𝖘𝖈

This is how medusa conjuct ascendant has manifested for me. I am not a professional astrologer, just sharing my personal experiences I believe correlate with this placement.

🐍 In regards to appearances, I have always had very long, dark wavy hair. Growing up, a lot of times my hair was touched without my consent and I remember distinctly someone pulling my hair hard as fuck in school and it was a group of girls (didnt know which one it was). I also remember boys trying to “flirt” with me by tugging my hair.

🐍As I got older and started taking care of my hair even more, that is one the first things I always get compliments on by strangers, acquaintances or coworkers.

🐍In some other posts I see people mention a “piercing gaze.” As a kid, when I was angry I use to look at people like I wanted to shoot lasers out of my eyes. My mother would hate when I would look at her like that, she told me I looked like a monster when I gave her the death stare during arguments.

🐍On the flip side of that however, I do also get compliments on my eyes. My eyes are big and very dark as well just like my hair. One time in high school, one of my teachers told me I had “bedroom eyes” in front of the whole class. I realized it was kinda inappropriate when I googled what that was after. One of my friends said I have “siren eyes.”

🐍I have never felt fully comfortable around the opposite sex. I was always very very wary of men. In high school was when it was at its peak. The guys were pretty gross. One time a guy in my grade (who I barely knew) pulled me into a hug and literally bit my fucking shoulder. I had shoved him away and looked towards my teacher but he didnt do anything, just looked away.

🐍I can definitely see men in my life or in my surroundings who were not being inappropriate to me being indifferent to watching bad/ uncomfortable things happen to me. Either they didn’t care or didn’t find me someone worthy as defending or both.

🐍When I did defend myself I was villanized quickly over it. In high school, a guy behind me slapped my butt and when I turned around and slapped him in the face I got in trouble/ detention for it.

🐍I was often talked about in a very sexual manner (despite never dating or being “promiscuous” for a lack of better word). Comments were made about my body and sexuality.

🐍Then when I went to college I felt like I putting myself out there more but realized I wasn’t fully being vulnerable. I liked to flirt with guys but I wanted them to have to practically BEG for my attention. And then when they gave it to me I would shut them down. I use to do that a lot. One time a guy was so angry at me he called me a snake. I’m an adult now, and have grown and don’t do any kind of thing like that anymore. But at the time, I believe I was seeking a kind of power/control over other people because I personally felt powerless or unworthy.

🐍I am also not personally fond of snakes as pets or wanting to hold them. But I use to always want a medusa tattoo in college and had a bracelet with Medusa and another with Artemis on it that I wore everyday (and it was all before I even knew about astrology or the fact that I have this placement).

🐍I have generally had good relationships with women. But I do think for sure growing up I tried to make the women around me (whether family, teachers or friends) like me as much as possible. It felt devastating being rejected by them.

🐍When the women in my life would hurt me, whether by accident or on purpose I would make excuses for them until it would blow up in my face. (It reminds me of how Medusa use to worship Athena and was shocked and destroyed at the betrayal).

🐍There have been times where other women would look at me as if I was in competition with them (when in reality I didn’t give a fuck). But they would make petty comparisons. One time I had a “friend” who asked in front of a group of guys, “who is prettier? me or her?”

🐍I use to HATE when people stared at me, mostly when it was men. I would look back at people and be like what the fuck are you looking at? or say something along those lines. It made me so furious when men would catcall me too or eye me up and down.

🐍I would definitely say that growing up I had a bad temper. I was very resentful and impulsive and I was angry with the things that had happened to me and my body. Sometimes I just wanted to disappear. I was not easily given the benefit of the doubt. I was quick to get blamed. Not easily listened to.

🐍Overall, I can see having this placement as being very heavy as kid or a teen. I was so young and I was just worried about being a kid and getting to know myself but I got sexualized so much. I think I did grow up too fast in certain aspects. I do not miss my childhood nor do I remember it with nostalgia.

🐍I love being an adult. I love making my own choices. I love not having to ask for permission. I love feeling confident in my femininity(I feel like this year is when I just started to fully explore it out of love). It was a painful journey but more often than not I feel brave, and safe and comfortable in my body now more than ever. I don’t self sabotage anymore or go out of my way to shut people out. But it took a very long time.

#astrology #astrology observations #medusa asteroid #medusa conjuct ascendant #personal astrology observation #astro observations #medusa astrology #medusa in the 1st house

[finntheehumaneater]

for your domestic steddie: let's see that morning routine! who's up first, whos making breakfast, who's has the very persuasive argument to stay in bed?

This is like the opposite of their morning routine lmao. Steve always wakes up first and makes breakfast and then goes back to bed with Eddie for a while before he leaves for work :)

“Eds?” Steve muttered, sitting up in bed. He felt cold without Eddie pressed against his back, his face tucked into his neck, breathing against his skin. It was dark and his eyes were blurry with sleep, but he could just make out Eddie, his hair falling out of his bun as he pulled his jeans on.

“Go back to sleep, Steve,” he whispered, coming over to push Steve back down against the pillow, gently, with his jeans low on his hips and his shirt bunched up in his other hand.

“Eddie,” Steve whined, grabbing onto his wrist and trying to tug him back, his voice and arms still heavy with sleep. “Promised me we’d sleep in, remember?.”

“No, I promised you could sleep in, baby,” Eddie reminded gently, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s head as he snaked his arms around Steve’s waist. “Because you hit your head last night so I said I’d make you breakfast today and you could relax.”

“Can’t relax if you’re out of bed,” Steve whispered, and he knew he sounded pathetic, but maybe if Eddie felt bad enough he’d curl up behind him again and he’d be able to go back to bed. It was hard to sleep once he had woken up if he was alone.

Eddie laughed into his hair, his breath warm. “Come and lay on the couch, then. I gotta get up anyway to make food for Wayne before he leaves for work. Might make some for Katie, too, because Wayne said she doesn’t eat in the mornings.”

God, he was so fucking nice, but Steve wasn’t going to let him off that easy. “You’re going to leave me alone? With a headache? Some boyfriend you are,” he muttered, trying to look pissed but crumbling in on himself and laughing when Eddie pinched at his side lightly, biting his shoulder.

“Be nice to me, Stevie.”

“You be nice to me,” Steve retorted, his hands finally getting a grip on Eddie’s a tugging them away with a stupid smile on his face, softening into something more personal and pleading when he saw how Eddie was looking at him—eyes all sad with his head tilted like he really thought Steve wasn’t okay. He worried too much for someone who’d been dealing with this for…what, seven years? Maybe more if you counted the time before they were dating.

“I’m fine,” Steve whispered, cupping Eddie’s face in his hands and pulling him down for a kiss, his back aching from having been bent so weirdly for so long in his sleep. “But five more minutes? I’ll help you make breakfast if you stay.”

“You drive a hard bargain, iubirea mea,” Eddie murmured, pressing a few kisses to Steve’s jaw that made Steve’s insides feel like sugary mush. “But of course, who am I to say no to such a pretty boy?”

Steve tugged him onto the mattress, and Eddie sat with his knees on either side of Steve’s hips, bent over to kiss his lips. It wasn’t exactly sleeping, but Steve wasn’t going to tell him to stop. 

“Never have to make breakfast again if you don’t want to,” Eddie whispered against his lips, one hand slipped under Steve’s shirt to trace the scarred-over tissue on his side. “I’ll wake up early all the time if you ask, promise.”

Steve bit back a smile, his fingers in Eddie’s hair, tugging gently. He’d help Eddie make breakfast soon anyways. Eddie would need the help.

MasterList for the domestic Steddie AU

Eddie speaking Romanian is bc of the headcannon I have for his mom, and I will gladly elaborate upon request so I don’t just spring a random ramble on y’all, lmao 🩵

#I listened to “Oklahoma Smokeshow” on repeat while writing this it’s such a good song #ALSO #steve’s headache came from the fact that he had a seizure the night before and hit his head when he fell #He’s fine though don’t worry #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #steve x eddie #Wayne Munson #Finn writes #Finn’s DSAU #My fic #my writing

[milaisreading]

🌱🩷: Smn requested a pt2 of the U-20 team meeting crossdresser!Yn. So here it is!

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. In the story the boys will be using he/him when addressing Yn. Requests for this series are open.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Hmmm?" Sendou squinted his eyes as he observed the Blue Lock team.... well, the starters more than anybody else. They were all somewhat interesting, but also boring to some regards, yet he couldn't stop looking at them. Or, better yet, a certain person in the team. The (h/c) haired striker of the team certainly stood out, as he looked way more... softer(?) than the rest of his team. Even his movements weren't like those from the other guys.

"Hey, Sendou. Stop staring into space and listen to what Aiku is saying." Hayate said lazily as Teru and Teppei nodded their heads.

"Yeah, we need to win this game."

"Sae is already being annoying with how 'lukewarm' we are." Cho rolled his eyes as Niou sent the older Itoshi and Shidou death glares.

"Sorry... it's just... that Blue Lock striker over there is very odd." Sendou said as he discreetly pointed at (Y/n), who was busy talking with Hiori and Kurona about something.

"Odd? He is just standing." Niou pointed out.

"Also, you being distracted resulted in him scoring the 2nd goal." Itsuki added in.

Sendou blushed in embarrassment and glared at his teammates.

"Shut it! And he is odd. Even the way he is standing is odd. It's as if I am seeing one of those idol girls."

"You have completely lost it." Teppei said calmly.

"Maybe we should limit your TV and internet access." Teru suggested.

"What are you all talking about now?" Oliver raised an eyebrow as he and Miroku approached them.

"Sendou think that (L/n) guy is a girl." Hayate simply stated.

"I never said he was a girl! I just said he reminds me of those idol girls!" The boy flushed a bright red.

"Oookkay..." Oliver said as he looked over at the said player.

"Regardless, let's just play now. Sae is already being an ass to me."

"Deserved." Miroku and Niou added in.

"Hey!"

As the 3 bickered, Sendou turned to look at the striker again. Sadly, this time, he wasn't as secretive, and Hiori noticed his staring, drawing (Y/n)'s attention to it. The two made brief eye contact, and Sendou swore he could feel his heart doing a flip or two as he stared into the player's eyes.

'Just what is it about you?'

Sendou thought that his encounter with the striker would end when the match ended, but no! They actually met up again at that karaoke bar, and again, Sendou had this weird feeling about the striker.

'He is just too perfect with girls... as if he knows first hand what they want to hear.' Sendou thought as he watched the boy's interaction with the two older girls. Meanwhile, Hayate, Teru, and Miroku were making fun of a pouting Oliver. Sendou watched as the striker's friends pulled him away from the girls.

"Stop being weird, Sendou." Cho warned the redhead.

"What?"

"You are staring at the dude like he killed someone." Teppei noted.

"Please, whatever sort of weird feelings you have for him, sort it out. It's getting stressful to watch." Niou added in as Sendou flushed a deep red as he tried to deny that statement. Itsuki snickered a little.

"You do have a weird fixation." Miroku said, walking over to the group.

"Bachira, please don't make a scene!" (Y/n) yelled as he pulled him away from an argument with Oliver.

"He does remind me of a idol tho... I have to give it to Sendou for noticing it first." Hayate added in.

"Please don't tell me you have been staring too." Niou groaned.

"In my defense, he is cute." Sendou grumbled at the statement Hayate made, and got even more agitated as Miroku and Teru agreed.

"So, a bowling match it is!" Oliver exclaimed, getting the attention of the rest of the team.

"What?" Niou wondered.

"We agreed to a bowling match with you guys." (Y/n) spoke up as she tried to get Bachira off of her arm.

"Losers buy the winners food." The (h/c) haired striker finished.

"Well, in our case Reo is buying the food." Chigiri and Isagi snickered.

"Aiyah... I guess. Bachira, can you let go of my arm now?"

"No." The bicolored boy said, which caused Chigiri and Isagi to grab onto Bachira to pull him off of (Y/n).

"There goes my hoodie." She sighed as the U-20 team watched in amusement... well, except for Oliver.

"And you! Blue Lock's number 12!"

"Ha?" The four looked at him in confusion, as the U-20 team sighed in defeat.

"Here we go." Cho and Teru said quietly.

"When the bowling game ends... how about you be a good brother to me and tell me your tricks on how you swooned those two girls soe easily." Oliver grinned, putting a  arm around (Y/n)'s shoulder.

"What?" The girl asked, dumbfounded by the statement.

"Why is he touching (Y/n)?"

"I don't know... doesn't he have a disease or something?"

"His breath probably smells, too." Isagi, Chigiri, and Bachira commented among themselves, trying to hold themselves back from ripping Oliver away from their striker.

"Eh... I don't know." (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as Oliver pulled her out of the room.

"Hey!" The three Blue Lock players protested.

"Hold it right there! Where are you going with (Y/n)?!" Otoya's voice was heard from down the hallway.

"That's not how you hold a bowling ball, Hayate-san." (Y/n) noted as she watched the white-haired boy struggle holding the ball.

"What?" The taller raised an eyebrow.

"You need to grab tightly onto it with all 3 fingers... that's way too loose." (Y/n) showed the shaky hand that was holding the ball. Although she didn't play or like this sport much, she knew some rules.

"You might injure your hand like that." She said simply finished as Hayate observed her hand for a moment and then repeated the same hold.

"Thanks."

"Welcome, let's have a fair game then." (Y/n) said as Hayate was about to say something, but the girl got pulled away by Nagi. The U-20 player watched with some new found interest the striker.

'Odd... but Sendou was right... there is something about the number 12 that isn't like the rest...' The white haired boy thought.

"You think that something is weird about him too, don't you?" Sendou suddenly spoke up from behind Hayate, who slowly nodded his head.

"There really is."

"Hey, you two! Focus! I need those tips from (Y/n)." Oliver warned the duo, who looked at him in confusion.

"What?"

"I made (Y/n) promise to give me tips about girls, if we win." Oliver simply stated.

"You... are getting dating tips from your junior?" Cho asked in disbelief.

"This is gold. I wish I had my camera with me." Miroku chuckled as Niou held in a laughter. Teppei tried to calm everyone down, but he did find this whole ordeal funny.

"Shut it!" Oliver yelled with an embarrassed blush as Teru and Itsuki patted their captain's back, silently laughing as well.

#bllk #blue lock anime #blue lock manga #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #bllk x reader #blue lock requests #chigiri hyoma #bachira meguru #oliver aiku #sendo shuto #bllk sendo #crossdressing #blue lock u 20

[familyabolisher]

haphazard assortment of thoughts on the unwanted guest:

firstly, it really does have to be said—crazy good, probably my favourite of all the tlt short pieces, and i say that as someone who lost my mind over as yet unsent for like a week. excellent conceit and excellent execution, just a really gorgeous piece of writing. the play format of course reminds me of what abigail says to harrow in htn—that the river bubble is a ‘play [she’s] directing’—the inside of one’s head as a stage in which other actors can intervene & whereby mileage can be gotten out of Symbolism as immediately “real,” tangible presences that the kind of realist baggage that a more quotidian prose form would usher in would probably falter in accomplishing. it’s a lot!! i think even if i wasn’t already a tazmuir writing style defender (contra the insistence that she’s yknow homestuck fanfiction serial numbers filed off hack) then this would have had me floored anyway. 

the play format also works in the way that muir’s general dexterity in form and willingness to really make use of craft as a technical space where discourse can be generated always works—i’m talking about the ‘fanfictiony’ voice in gtn which manages to say something both about fanfiction and about the text itself, the use of the dramatis personae as a space where atmosphere can be established and plot points hinted towards (thus blurring the lines between what is and is not diegesis), the drastic shifts in style between different close thirds, the shifting from third- to second- to epistolary first-person, the use of poetry both diegetic and not (the noniad, the epigraph poems…), the mimicry of the ‘voice’ of the king james bible in the nona epilogue—she never stays in one place for too long and she never seems to stick to one central style or form, and it really works in her favour. insofar as tlt as a whole is a very ‘patchwork’ kind of work, building itself up from its big big index of references and intertexts and memes with hugely variant levels of ‘prestige’ or legitimacy attached to them, the ‘patchwork’ use of form really works in muir’s favour. however i am also fuming because i was right in the middle of writing a tlt fic which jumps into a play format two-thirds of the way through and now my idea doesn’t look ORIGINAL but ANYWAY—

& i really do need to flag my good friend vee’s mercy/augustine fic, which makes use of a similar conceit and pulls it off masterfully—i am deeply jealous of vee’s talent and i think the unwanted guest makes this piece (from 2021!) shine even more, if anything.

i am DYING to see where muir is going with the use of hamlet, of all things—dulcie quoting it to palamedes immediately catapulted my mind back to abigail’s reference to ‘that undiscovered country’ in htn. obviously muir likes to drop contemporary (or contemporarily canonical) references and turns of phrase all over the place, but the attention drawn to the quote as diegetically referential (“I like that. Is it from something?” / “Yes. It’s complicated.”) has me wondering about a) the survival of ‘pre-res’ literatures ~over the river and like WHY and b) what a thematic interlocking of tlt and hamlet can do, here…….real aveheads remember cytherea ophelia theory where i tried to use ophelia as a point of reference for teasing out some arguments about cytherea and death and aesthetics and white femininity and whatnot. all of which is to say i need to sit with this hamlet reading a lot more but i love it, i am so here for it.

of course ‘kissing or feeding, we can’t be sure’ calls to mind ‘how meat loves meat,’ alecto biting harrow’s mouth by way of a kiss…and the general thematic throughline of, you know, certain practices of love as practices of consumption, naberius later being figured as the ‘meat’ in question contains echoes of this eroticism which ofc guides the contours of the necromancer/cavalier dynamic, eroticism as a currency of power, we know all of this stuff because it’s all over the text but i am just thumbs-upping it from the sidelines

the coffins had me thinking of utena’s black rose arc, which is a fun link to make considering the equivalent moment in the main body of nona is also referencing utena, ie. with the ‘rules’ of the duel being that cam has to get the handkerchief out of ianthe’s pocket as kind of an equivalent to skewering the rose. i feel like the tlt/utena overlap is pretty self-explanatory but it’s just fun to see the fingerprints all over lol

i think a lot of this was treading old ground thematically (erotics of consumption, dog motifs, we’ve seen it already!) but i will say that i did Yell Out Loud over ‘who's she got dawdling behind her but that creature—tugging visibly at her leash like an overeager dog.’ reminded of the other memorable use of ‘leash’—’even the devil bent for god to put a leash around her neck’—and, of course, the endless parade of commonalities between gideon & alecto. anyway there’s not really anything in this line that we didn’t already know about gid as a character, thematically speaking, but i point it out because it inflicted +100 psychic damage when i read it. gideon as a ‘creature’ is particularly slimy, & sort of puts me in mind of ianthe's tendency to talk about what appears to us as 'butch masculinity' (as opposed to the more effete masculinity of augustine or even babs) with a notably derogatory slant (the 'hurtful threats of sexual violence' line comes to mind); i don't know that i have much to say about it here specifically but it's an interesting one that i think informs the kirianthe dynamic pretty heavily (especially when held up against, like, harrianthe ... ianthe has a kind of respect for whatever harrow's gay and stupid gender is Doing (at least insofar as she can mould it to her own desires; i'm thinking of the dios apate forcefemme scene lol) in ways that i don't think she has for kiriona? but this is v off-topic, lol).

i have never been especially taken by dulcie as a character but i think this may finally have forced me to fold and admit that she’s great. her haters!!! her agonies!!! camilla would have to cook!! the balance between levity and sincerity was really well-managed. & i love the double meaning of “unwanted guest” as both palamedes intruding on ianthe’s mind palace and naberius setting up shop inside of her.

i need a week to sit with where this idea of the consumed soul as being literally ‘digested’ such that it can begin to ‘inhabit,’ however immaterially, the host body, or like to alter the characteristics of the host body such that to carry out such a consumption is to kind of kill yourself as well, slots in with lolita theory. or like, i need alecto right now. i am however reminded of chew, a short story that muir wrote in 2013, which also plays with these ideas of sexual assault as a forcing of a part of yourself meaningfully ‘into’ another person, and cannibalism as the reenactment of such a process, figured in the story as kind of a reclamation or at least an assertion of permanence—“I was always going to be in the ground with him in me,” she said. “I just wanted to make sure, that’s all. I just wanted to make sure.”—which the unwanted guest seems to kind of, play with in reverse? i don’t know, but i’m interested—as ever—in where muir wants to take these ideas of rape and consumption and absorption that she’s got in her hands.

i keep returning to…i hesitate to say ‘parallels’ because i think that imposes a narrative onus that i’m not actually that convinced by, but these, like, commonalities between babs and gideon. gideon is played off against so many people (cristabel, loveday, alecto being the big ones) that it feels kind of inane to add another person to the pile, but like…they’re the two who get got in canaan house, they’re both ironically ‘false’ cavaliers and expressions of the ‘truest’ or most paradigmatic form that cavalierhood ‘can’/’should’ take, they both have unconventionally gendered names (‘babs’ is a shortened form of ‘barbara,’ it is a typically feminine name imo) and (by our standards) somewhat unconventional genders (gideon is butch, babs effete)—and of course the unwanted guest places a lot of emphasis on the coercive ‘making’ of cavalierhood (the reference to babs being ‘fixed’ were he to have a disability! ianthe’s glib ‘society really is to blame’ comment—ironic, obviously, but not wholly untrue) not dissimilar to the emphasis that gtn puts on cytherea moulding gideon into the state she comes to be in at the end. babs and gideon as the two possessed corpses in nona, obviously. two wildly diverse but ultimately converging trajectories! a dialectical tension between their fundamental ‘opposition’ (as by-the-book cavalier vs whatever gideon is doing) and their fundamental ‘sameness’ whereby the dialectic is resolved in their mutual deaths. also just, of course, continuing the throughline that muir has had going for a while now, of gender/gendering as a set of coercive enforcements loyal to a hegemonic structuring of the world.

that’s all i’ve got, i think. just. really good everyone say thank you tazmuir

#.txt #tlt #the unwanted guest spoilers #this was originally bullet points but tumblr's formatting is bad and i can't be bothered editing to improve the flow here. so. #rape cw

[michelleleewise]

Courting Disaster

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: secret relationship, mild smut (nothing graphic yet), jealousy, disastrous blind dates, swearing, mentions of "escort"....

Summary: You are the cousin of THE Tony stark, so when you enter a relationship with the God of Mischief himself you are determined to keep it low-key much to his chagrin. But your lovers meddling brother has other plans......

***this story is in collaboration with the lovely @xorpsbane , we both had so much fun with The Auction we have decided to come together for another!!! We're looking at a minimum 4 parts, maybe 5. Hold on tight, it's gonna be a wild ride!!! 😏💚🤣

Part one-

"Brother, for the last time I am not interested!" You heard as you walked into the common area, seeing Loki in his chair by the window and Thor on the couch. You walked to the kitchen grabbing a cup of coffee as the argument continued "Come now Loki it will be good for you. When was the last time your "royal staff" was polished?" Thor asked air quoting making you spit our your coffee. "Lady Stark, are you alright?" Thor asked while you choked on your coffee.

"Yes, yes I'm fine. What are you two talking about?" You asked sitting on the other couch. "Well, I was simply telling Loki he needs to get out, go on a few dates." He smiled "and I told my oaf of a brother I am not interested in dating." Loki scowled. "Loki, there are many women and men here on Midgard who would jump at the chance to be with you, I don't see the problem......unless.." Thor leaned forward eyeing him "unless what?" You asked looking between them "unless he is seeing someone I am unaware of...are you Loki?" He asked.

You saw Loki's eyes shift to you before settling back onto his brother. He had in fact been seeing YOU for the past six months but you told him you didn't want anyone to know, insisted upon it. Every few weeks he would come to you telling you he was tired of hiding his affections, he wanted to show everyone how much he cared for you, and as much as you hated it you had to deny him. You wanted to shout from the roof how much you loved him, but being related to Tony, and with their past history you knew he'd lose his shit and you couldn't let him send him away, you needed to protect him.

You heard Loki clear his throat "what does my personal life have to do with you Thor?" Loki asked glaring at him "you are aren't you!?" Thor shouted making you jump "who is she brother, do I know her?" He asked excitedly, he reminded you of a huge puppy. "I..." he trailed off, glancing at you again you heard him sigh "I am not courting anyone Thor." He said emotionless, you heart stung a little at the words. "Well then I'll make you a deal. If you go on four dates of my choosing and none of them work out, you shall never hear of this again." Thor smiled leaning back.

You looked at Loki expectantly, hoping he would make some excuse to not go when you saw a smile spread across his face "Alright brother, you have a deal." Loki said smugly crossing his arms. "Marvelous, I have just the lady for you Loki, ill tell her to meet you at 8 tonight." He smiled bouncing away. You turned back looking at Loki as he picked his book back up. "Umm what?" You snapped watching him turn the page "Yes darling?" He asked not looking up. "You can't be serious! We are.." you started when he snapped his book closed "we are what? Hiding, sneaking around?" He snapped back "if I refuse my brothers deal we could be exposed, he is rather relentless." He said standing up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date to prepare for." He nodded leaving the room.

You sat in silence staring at your coffee, you wanted to go after him, tell him to call it off, tell everyone in ear shot that your were madly in love with Loki Laufeyson. But you didn't know what Tony would do, what any of them would do and you couldn't lose him, it would destroy you, but the thought of him meeting a woman more appealing then you devastated you. You got up tossing your remaining coffee in the sink when Tony came in "Hey kid, how are things?" He asked smiling "oh fuck off Tony." You said pushing past him. You just wanted to climb back in bed and pretend today never happened.

Loki showed up at the restaurant to meet....Tina he believed her name was, in all honesty he couldn't really remember. He only agreed to these stupid dates to teach y/n a lesson, and hopefully push her to agree to make their relationship public. He was tired of hiding and hoped a little jealousy might nudge her in the right direction. So he donned his black suit, styled his hair and plastered on his best smile as he left the tower. He walked in recognizing the woman from the photo Thor showed him and walked over.

"Oh heeey, you must be Luke." She smiled "Loki actually. And you are?" He asked holding out his hand "Tina, but my friends call me TaTa." She winked adjusting her breasts "riiight...shall we?" He asked motioning to a table. He pulled out her chair "ooooh your such a gentleman, I hope not in the bedroom though." She said smirking as he sat down. He cleared his throat opening the menu "so, Luke..." She started "its Loki." He interrupted "right, Loki, how long you lived in New york?" She asked blowing a bubble with her gum, he'd only been here five minutes and he wanted to throttle her.

"I have lived here for a few years now, how about you?" He asked trying to be cordial "Oh, I've been here all my life, never wanted to go anywhere else." She said smiling. He looked her up and down, blonde hair, she has so much makeup on she looked like a circus clown, and her top was tight enough he's surprised her breasts didn't fall out. She made a loud pop with her gum bringing him back to reality "so, Thor is what...your brother?" She asked sliding her fingers up and down the stem of her wine glass "yes...adopted." he said matter of factly. "Oh, see I thought he was the one coming..." She said still smiling "sorry to disappoint you." He said setting his menu down.

"Oh, no Luke it's fine. A lay is a lay am I right?" She laughed grabbing his arm "Loki..and I beg your pardon?" He asked pulling his arm back "Well i mean dinner is ok first, as long as we get to the good stuff next." She winked. He sat staring at her "do..do you expect me to sleep with you?" He whispered making her laugh "Well duh, I mean your not really my type but you'll do." She said pressing her breasts up again. "Wait....are you a.." he motioned in the air with his hands "you got it sugar." She winked again as he rubbed his temples. "So, where you wanna do this at? Your place...my place...we could go to a hotel." She smiled as she kicked her heel off, stretching her leg under the table, her foot meeting his member.

Loki bolted up setting his napkin down "I'm sorry madam, but I must be leaving...urgent business you see." He smiled pulling his wallet out "I'll pay for dinner and your cab home." He said setting some money on the table pushing his chair in "Hey, let your brother know if he needs me again.." She said winking again "I shall relay the message, have a nice evening." He said nodding walking as fast as he could out of the restaurant.

Thor was kicked back on the couch watching a movie when Loki stormed into his room "You buffoon, where did you find that woman!?" Loki huffed slamming the door. "I believe it's called the web, not the one the spiderling has, the one on my phone, Barnes helped me. Did your date not go well?" Thor asked watching him pace "not go well!? Thor, she was a...." Loki yelled waving his hands around "a what brother?" Thor asked confused. Sighing Loki rubbed his temples "how do i explain this so your small brain comprehends......ok, you know the pleasure maidens on Asgard?" Loki asked watching as the reality set into Thor's face "she's a..." Thor started "yes, she was. So I kindly took my leave." Loki said pacing again.

"My apologies Loki, I had no idea. I will try again." He smiled "three more Thor and that's it! I will not be made a fool of!" Loki yelled storming from the room slamming the door. "Big oaf, he's lucky he's my brother." Loki said to himself heading to the kitchen, tea was definately needed. "Hey Loki, how did it go?" He heard, turning his head seeing you sitting on the table. He cleared his throat fixing his tie "Oh it went marvelous, she was quite lovely." He smiled setting the kettle on.

"Loki, i..." you trailed off "Yes darling?" He asked watching you. "Nevermind, when's your next date?" You asked looking down. "I am not sure, when Thor sets it up I suppose." He said. "You know, I don't have to go if..." he started "Loki, you know we can't." You interrupted sighing. You were both silent as Loki finished his tea "Well I've had a long night, if you will excuse me I'm going to turn in." He said heading for his room "did you maybe...wanna come to my room?" You asked watching him. "Maybe tomorrow night, goodnight darling." He nodded heading to his room.

Loki made it to his room, using his siedr he changed into a dark green shirt and sweatpants. He laid down in bed staring at the ceiling, the whole night had been a nightmare. Remembering the look on your face when he returned he was sure "I can't wait to see the look on that oaf's face when she tells everyone." He said to himself smiling, closing his eyes he was confident that tomorrow you would put an end to this charade.

💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚

Next part will be written by @xorpsbane 😁💚🐍

@vbecker10 @lokisgoodgirl @holdmytesseract @el-zef @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @123forgottherest @lovebyloki @javagirl328 @loopsisloops @high-functioning-lokipath @immersed-in-mischief @chantsdemarins @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @midnights-ramblings @slpnbty2001 @angelaf1978 @sinsandguilt @usagishira @xorpsbane @lokifriggadottir365 @your-taste-on-my-lips @asgardianprincess1050 @cakesandtom @agentandreastark @sekaishell @dukes2581 @aniar4wniak @spork-fighter @stupidthoughtsinwriting @d1a2n389 @hypergamer7744 @buttercupbestie @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lokiprompts @daggers-and-mischief @lucylaufeyson3 @kats72 @mochie85 @commanding-officer @lokis-coffee221 @huntress-artemiss @limiworld @lulubelle814 @idfkgabby @glitterylokislut @highkeysimpingforloki @myworldgoesboomz @lonadane

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki angst #loki fluff #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson fanfiction #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x y/n #loki odinson #loki odinson angst #loki odinson fluff #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson angst #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson #collaberation #loki mcu #mcu loki #disaster #blind date

[baurbiediv]

hate to be lame {2}

PAIRING ➔ jj maybank x pogue!reader, jj x kiara (oops.)

WARNING(S) ➔ small mention of cheating, crying

SYNOPSIS ➔ tensions begin to face an all time high following the aftermath of you and jj’s argument, things become very rocky and you worry that he’s began to fall out of love with you and has found someone else who’s better for him.

BASED OFF THE SONG ‘hate to be lame’ by lizzy mcalpine (i recommended listening while reading!)

part one ➔ here

A/N ➔ thank you for all the love on capsize + the first part of this! and i am NOT A KIARA ANTI YALL PLEASE, that’s my girl fr

-

two weeks.

a whole two weeks had passed by since a word was spoken to jj and to make things worse, it was an argument. one thing the both of you agreed on was to never be mad at each other, clearly that didn’t work out.

trying to get jj to understand what he did was reckless didn’t quite go the way you expected it to. emotions got the best of you, and resulted in you emotionally lashing out on him.

ultimately, this caused jj to retaliate but before you could say anything else, it was already too late. by then he’d already told you to get out, there wasn’t anything else that could’ve possibly been said or done to change the outcome of this.

so now here you were, right back at the chateau. looking out the window, there he was, jj. the yellow and orange hue of the peaking sunset hitting his skin almost perfectly. how badly you wanted to get up and tell him that you love him and you were sorry and that the accident caused you to freak out and you could get pass this.

but it wasn’t that easy, whenever something like this happens, he starts to push away. not because he wants to, but because that’s what he’s used to, when he loves someone too much, he pushes people out. this wasn’t easy like people had always said, jj wasn’t the easiest person to read yet you already knew that.

you watched as kiara, pope, sarah, and jj all gathered onto the dock laughing while john b made his way back to the chateau. “y/n, you coming along? i’d hate to leave you by yourself.” he said, snapping you out your thoughts.

“oh, yeah let me grab my bag.” you told him, for the first time in a couple of weeks john b was probably the first person to see you even remotely crack a small smile. he gave you a thumbs up before leaving the house. without noticing, you’d been playing with the star pendant on your necklace.

it was the sole purpose that reminded you why the two of you were even together, you were his star that kept its light in the midst of his darkness. but that light was slowly losing it’s shine.

you took a deep breath before recollecting your thoughts and making your way down to the dock. noticing how kiara had stood very closely to jj, you swallowed the impending lump in your throat, that jello feeling taking over your body this time.

pope noticed as he looked at you, “you okay y/n?” he asked you worriedly, you gave him a nod, “i’m alright, thank you pope.” you whispered as he helped you board the boat. after what seemed like minutes, the boat finally took off and the group searched for a place to stop and relax.

everyone seemed to be having fun, except you. the thing is, it wasn’t on purpose, this is how you were feeling. you tried to cheer yourself up but it wasn’t working. your own boyfriend didn’t seem to care about the upset mood you were in, hell, two weeks. no texts, no calls, no nothing.

you watched the way kiara and jj interacted with each other. looks and touches lingering longer than they were supposed to, jokes being exchanged between the two.

you weren’t jealous, but kiara knew what had happened between the two of you, why were they all of a sudden closer (as if they weren’t already close.) together.

staying on the boat, you watched as everyone jumped into the water. you covered yourself in your jacket and the emotions has finally overcome you. the tears kept coming, you poorly attempted to keep your sobs quiet in hopes to not draw attention to yourself.

everything happened all at once and way too fast. during these two weeks, this was the reason why he wasn’t reaching out.

because he found someone better, someone who could be there for him. you were always there when he needed you, the one he turned to whenever he had problems with his father, or himself.

the girl he was supposed to confide in the most. all the love, all the time, all the joy, spent with you had gone to waste. and over a stupid argument that could have been prevented.

god how you wished to just disappear into thin air right now.

—

you found yourself sitting alone in the chateau again, and watching the group all gather around a small bonfire. kiara, closely wrapped around jj. never did the feeling of betrayal feel so raw right now. you looked away and felt your body sink lower into the couch.

the door swung open, to your dismay, jj. the blond boy saw your figure but didn’t meet eye contact with you. he made his way to the kitchen, this was your opportunity to talk to him. gathering your tired limbs you too, made your way into the kitchen.

it was fairly small, so there wasn’t anyway you’d be standing far from him. “j, can we please talk?” you asked him, his back turned to you. his body tensed at the sound of your frail voice. he turned around to finally face you.

you missed his face.

some cuts from past adventures were now healing. “yeah.. what do you want to talk about?” he said leaning against the counter.

“us. what are we?” you looked at him.

he sighed, not being prepared for this confrontation.

“you haven’t spoken to me in two weeks. i’m losing my mind here j. i know i shouldn’t have lashed out on you, i’m sorry.” you said, shifting your weight between both of your feet.

jj ran his hands through his hair as he let out a frustrated sigh, “i’m sorry y/n. i really am,” he breathed out, eyes landing on the chain he bought you, you still kept it on.

“i pushed you away because i fucked up. a couple days after the argument, i told kiara everything. my head was everywhere and .. and we made out.” he told you.

way to go.

your heart quite literally felt like it just got ripped out right of your chest and stomped on. you leaned against the counter and put your hands on both sides on your face before bringing them down to your mouth.

jj looked at you, his eyes full of worry and sorrow. he hates that he did this to himself, to you.

“did you do anything else?” you quickly got out not wanting to avoid any more hurt.

“no. absolutely not.” he breathed out.

you ultimately broke down and he pulled you into a hug. “y/n. i’m so sorry, it meant nothing.” he spoke softly as he kissed the top of your head. you cried as much as your heart would let you right into his chest.

“i’m so fucking sorry i didn’t anything sooner. i couldn’t bring myself to tell you. i knew we left on bad terms and i didn’t want to make it worse, i’m so sorry my love.” he said rubbing your back.

“jj.” you said, lifting your head from his chest. you calling his name alone was enough to grab his attention.

“don’t ever do this again. from now on we tell each other everything. you have to start trusting me, i can’t have you pushing me away. not then, not now, not ever.” your eyes glossy.

he nodded, you hugged him tightly as he rocked you side to side.

you were his star that kept its light in the midst of his darkness.

—

#jj maybank fic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank #jj maybank x pogue!reader

[lucysarah-c]

Do you think Levi would be with someone who was canonically "innocent" or "weak"?

Would he have a relationship with an ordinary civilian?

Considering how much shitty hard shit he's been through, it seems like he wouldn't be with a partner who has a good life, who hasn't been through hard shit and who is pure.

Would he get cold and distant from a partner who is weak, insecure, unable to get up from a fall?

I felt the need to ask this question because I read a Hc about Levi being uncomfortable with weakness and that he can't be with someone who is weak and innocent

Especially in the manga, he said something about hating the weak.

Or if he saw the weaknesses of the average partner, would he accept his flaws or would he grow cold and distant from him?

Ahh I don't know, maybe his behavior towards his partner depends on the dynamics of their relationship. For example if he has been friends with S/o since childhood. Even if S/o was a weak person, maybe he wouldn't distance himself from her. But I don't know if he would like her romantically.

If you are the last person I will ask this question to, I can ask it on another blog. I didn't know which blog to ask.

Hi, sweetie! How are you? Mmh… Excuse me if I am wrong in assuming this after reading your ask, but since you mentioned that this is something that had been on your mind lately after you read a hc and you felt the need to ask me… I do not know who or what made you feel like you're weak, first of all, and even if you felt that way, therefore you're not worthy of Levi's love.

I have a particular… you may call it a "personal" issue with the word "weak". What do you consider weak? What is weakness in a person to even begin? "That person is weak" compared to what? Or to whom? Under which circumstances? Is what people consider "weakness" truly a weakness? Because everything may look dark if you don't consider the source of light.

I'll give my reasons later, but to make a long story short, no, I don't think Levi has any personal issue with weakness.

To start the argument, you, or maybe what they have made you believe, is "weakness" as you mentioned "innocence, ordinary civilian, good life, pure," all related to "weakness." Which leads me to ask you, what do you see as weak in all those characteristics? Because I see none. Let me explain. You see, people consider "ordinary civilians" weak, but if ordinary civilians didn't rise from their beds every single morning and do what they do for society, soldiers like Levi wouldn't have what to eat, what to wear, streets to walk, beds to sleep, or houses to hide from the cruel winter. To set a clear example, after Europe was DEVASTATED by the war, who rebuilt it? Who grabbed the helmets from the dead soldiers that were their men, their sons, their husbands, and made strainers to cook meals for the kids? Who picked up each and every single piece of debris so the cities could be rebuilt? Who worked the lands that once were trenches for kids to have what to eat? I see no weakness there. Weakness is in a human when they need to hold a weapon to feel powerful.

About the words "innocence, good life, pure"… why would Levi consider a person that didn't have his tough life someone not worthy of his love? There's nothing wrong and there's no fault in not suffering; romanticizing a harsh and poor life is something very dangerous. To set a clear example that Levi wishes that those he loves have a peaceful life, is him watching that mother with her child before the expedition to retake Wall Maria. He himself thought of his mother and the peaceful normal life he wished she had, he wished he could have given her.

Levi himself is an extremely sensitive, open-hearted, and altruistic person. He craves a normal life; his dream was to have a tea shop and live an "innocent, peaceful, pure" life. This reminds me of the movie "Sociedad de la Nieve," when Roberto Canessa is told "you have the best legs of the team, you have to walk for the rest of us," to do what others can't. THIS, for me, is the reason Levi joined the scouts. Because he KNOWS he can do something that others can't, and he will carry that weight because he knows he can carry it. Levi isn't in the military because he thinks he's "strong" or the power of being "strong," because he wishes to protect those who can't do the job he can, because he wants to be the person who helps others as he wasn't helped as an innocent, pure, weak little kid.

Levi values life, and he would never look down on someone because their life is perhaps more peaceful than his. On the contrary, I think he fights so everyone can have the peaceful life he couldn't have. Maybe, the "character" that others may consider "too innocent, pure, weak" is the character that has the tranquility and safety in their daily life that allows Levi to find refuge in their peacefulness to recover his energy to keep going. Maybe he enjoys spending time with them, admiring the little moments of life, to understand for what he is fighting.

Maybe this partner is going through a hard moment they can't see through, and perhaps that struggle isn't as big as what Levi's has been through. But only a very selfish person would measure someone's pain with their own; feelings have no proportions, we just feel them. Diminishing them won't do any good. It's easy to judge a cat for not being as strong as a dog, while nobody is calling a dog weak because they can't climb a tree. Life is too beautiful and complex to see it through a single lens. No, I do not believe Levi would do such a thing.

Hope this helps… if you ever feel like you need someone to vent, feel free. Stay safe.

Lots of love!

#levi ackerman #levi #captain levi #levi aot #snk levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #aot levi #snk levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackeman #levi attack on titan #captain levi ackerman x you #captain levi x reader #captian levi x reader #captain levi ackerman x y/n #captain levi x you #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi x you #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titans #levi smut #levi x reader smut #levi ackerman snk #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader smut #levi ackerman x female!reader

[lavender-romancer]

Bruised

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Ivar loves war more than you

CW: arguments, swearing, slight smut and submissive Ivar, anger, aggression

”*°•.˜”*°•˜”*°•.˜”*°•. .•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Even though he was your betrothed, you knew that you'd always be second best in Ivar's head and you just had to accept it. Whilst you had no say over the marriage there was no use being bitter, he was obsessed with war and blood. You yourself were also a warrior but you were pregnant and couldn't risk the date of their heir in such a careless way but, Ivar didn't share your anxiety towards death. He only thought of Valhalla, his obsession with becoming a warrior and dying noble and brave was taking its toll on you and you didn't know how to tell him it was happening because of him.

"I made some beautiful kills today, my love." Ivar grinned as he came into your quarters, you were laid back on the pillows cradling your ever growing stomach bump.

He was covered in blood, hadn't even spared a moment to wipe his face and you hated how attractive you found him in this high-testosterone state. Ivar was way too excited to realise how clean your night dress was as he lay a hand over your stomach and just smiled up at you. His sweet face sending a warm feeling to your stomach because you knew he was home safe, at least for now.

"Be careful, my love. No pressing, I think she's sleeping." You put your hand on top of his gently.

"Ah, she will be a strong girl like her mother with more need for sleep than the normal person!" He joked and you slapped him on the head lightly with a laugh.

"No matter how excited you are you always find time to discuss my sleeping habits don't you, dearest?" You raised an eyebrow and Ivar giggled. He climbed up onto your bed and thrust off his tunic that was spattered with blood on the sleeves. He grabbed a cloth from beside the bed and cleaned his face, seeming to have woken up from all the excitement and realising how clean you were.

"I'll always be happy to discuss how much sleep you require, plus making a little bit of fun toward you is always my favourite pastime." Ivar leant on your breasts, holding the other in his hand as you stroked his hair.

"Someone's comfortable, hmm?" You asked and he hummed a yes into your chest, enjoying himself a bit too much.

"Pregnancy has made these bigger, I'll have to get you pregnant again so I can enjoy it once more." He kissed both your breasts and then your lips as you hit him on the head again.

"You're a dirty man, my betrothed. Not even married me and already filled me with a child." You looked down at him lovingly, your anxiety calmed as soon as he walked in the door and you knew it wasn't healthy for the baby but you didn't know what you'd do if he was seriously hurt.

"You're welcome." Ivar grinned.

"Don't leave me again, okay?" You held him close to you and squashed him against your body and closed your eyes.

"You know I can't agree to that." Ivar whispered and you sighed, not saying anything else "Y/n, you knew what I was when you accepted my proposal. I am a Ragnarsson, I am born to do this and have a right."

You still said nothing and you knew the child growing in you made your emotions go into a concentrated form whenever you felt something but you couldn't deal with it anymore. You pushed him away from you and turned over in bed, hugging yourself and staying silent.

"Y/n, please." Ivar sounded desperate but you couldn't see his blood spattered body right now, you couldn't deal with the reminder that Ivar would be gone by the morning.

Ivar sighed and turned over, back to you as he slowly went into a deep sleep. You sat up and lit a candle by your bed, you started circling your hand over your stomach.

"You're going to be perfect, and no one will ever hurt you. You're going to stay with me and learn new languages and arithmetic and how to govern. I don't know if you'll meet your father, but I will always be here to keep you safe, little one." You were whispering but Ivar heard every word and it sent a pang of pain to his stomach, he felt too unwillingly guilty.

Ivar craved war, he craved death by battle and yet he wanted you and wanted to be with you constantly. He wanted a lazy morning with you, massaging your aching back and falling asleep on your chest. Ivar wanted to kiss you, he wanted to kill, he wanted to give you love but he needed to vanquish all who dared test him and his rule.

You were smiling down at your stomach, imagining when he or she would be in your arms after however long and hard the birth would be. It would all be worth it to hold their delicate little body in your arms and feel that connection that you had felt immediately with Ivar. You missed that immediate connection you made with Ivar, you knew that you already had it with this baby even though they weren't here yet. The moment you'd met Ivar you knew you had to speak to him more, you had to find out everything about him and couldn't sleep without thinking of him. Even though he didn't seem to want you anymore you still craved him and conversations with him, your love for your betrothed was unmistakable and unmatched. Until this baby was born there was no one you loved more than Ivar.

Ivar suddenly turned over and sat up next to you, it made you jump slightly but his next movements were slow. He shuffled over and leant his head on your shoulder, laying a hand over yours on your stomach and gripping it. He kissed your shoulder and stayed quiet, just holding you and your stomach gently showing his affection through touch. Ivar had never been good with words when it came to gentleness or affection, he was so much better at physical representations of it.

"I'm sorry." Ivar whispered and you leant your head on his.

"It's okay, angel." You kissed the top of his head and he turned his face to look at yours with tears in his eyes.

The blood still clung to his cheeks and he looked so beautiful and vulnerable next to you that you struggled to not take him into your arms and never let him leave. But you knew you couldn't control him and you couldn't make him stay.

"I'm not good for you, I just cause you stress and I… I just can't fucking say what I want to and I just- fuck," he paused "I love you. I love you so much and fuck I just loose all my words when it's only you with me. I'm so enchanted by you, my love."

"We both know you're not always the best with words but you have your moments. That was lovely." You smiled softly and leant forward till you were nose to nose with Ivar.

"You're just trying to make me laugh now." Ivar smirked and you blushed, unable to hide your intentions. You loved seeing him smile.

"Yeah and so what?" You slowly kissed him and Ivar held your face with one hand and kept the other hand on your stomach.

"I will never let anything bad happen to either of you," Ivar said quietly as you drew apart and rested your foreheads together "You are my world, my night sky full of stars, my sea full of creatures, my reason for being. I have never cared for a person the way I care for you, never take my need for war as a dismissal of you and your feelings."

You closed your eyes and wiped your eyes, unable to control your emotions and how your hormones amplified everything. You missed him so much day to day that moments like these were so treasured.

"Don't cry, my love. You are brave and so am I, I will never die because the Gods do not want it. The Seer told me so." Ivar stroked your cheek.

"I do not cry for myself or for you, I cry for our unborn child. What if they never meet you? What if they never know your care or your love?" You pulled away from Ivar a bit and wiped your eyes and your nose again.

"I am Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar and Aslaug, I was cursed at birth to live a life of suffering and hopelessness and yet I am King. I am unmistakably the ruler of Kattegat and respected by kingdoms str thing across our great lands. Our child will be blood of my blood, they will be as battle hungry as me and as respected as I. Regardless of their troubles they will feel our love, they will know their importance in this world." Ivar held your face in both of his hands and you smiled at him before kissing his cheeks one by one.

"They will be your blood and better for it. I just long for you, it's selfish and I know it is but I can't help my need for you." You looked longingly into Ivar's eyes and another sharp pain hit Ivar's stomach as he thought about you missing him.

"I just wish you could turn your mind off whilst I am away, that you could separate your anxiety from your general thoughts because I will always come back to you." Ivar whispered, leaning the side of his head against the headboard.

"If only I could believe you." You smiled sadly and Ivar looked away from your eyeline, he was ashamed.

"I cannot give you guarantees. I know that that isn't good enough and I know that you need more than that but this is who I am. Maybe it's healthier for both of us to have more realistic opinions of each other at least for now." Ivar looked at you sympathetically and you hated it, like you were some cooped up lover who couldn't stand up for themselves.

"So I can't expect you to be better? I can't want you to be more supportive and more present in our relationship and your relationship with this baby? What about when they're born and you won't even be there? They won't even know their father!" You yelled, your face getting hot with anger and frustration.

"Oh for fuck, this is ridiculous! You knew who I fucking was! You knew and yet you still carried on. You knew you could get pregnant, you knew we'd get married and yet you just fucking expect something else from me!" Ivar screamed back and your eyes started welling up, you stood up and walked away from the bed, back facing him.

"I don't want to see you when I wake up. Don't fucking come back for all I care, if you love war more than me and your child then what the fuck are you even doing here." You said in a calm voice, not willing to let him see you cry.

"Maybe I fucking will, maybe I'll be fucking dead tommorow! You'd love that wouldn't you, fucking slut making me get you pregnant so you could hold all this shit on me!" He yelled it with so much malice you had to grit your teeth together behind your closed mouth, holding back so much aggression because you couldn't fight him and keep your baby safe.

"You're a fucking bastard, Ivar. Stop acting like I'm a whore! I'm no thrall, I'm not one of you little one night stands who doesn't deserve anything from you, my king. I'm a fucking Princess in my own right, I owe you nothing! We both knew I could get pregnant and we both knew we would be married if it happened. You said you loved me, you fucking said it first you… you fucking…" you trailed off, unable to finish because your head was so scrambled. What was he saying?

"You're not worth the breath I used to shout at you, so what if I said it first?! You fucking entrapped me! You made me love you with all your treatment of me and stupid fucking affection. Of course I had to get out and go to war because you were turning me into something I wasn't!" Ivar yelled his eyes wide open and eyebrows furrowed in an anger induced state. You turned around to face him

"Yeah that's right. I made you fall for me. Just like how I made myself love you, listen to yourself, Ivar. You're not thinking straight, I thought you loved this child? I thought you loved this relationship but God, what are we anymore?" You let a tear drop down your cheek as you held your stomach with one hand and your back with the other. You wished your baby was big enough to start kicking so you didn't feel so alone.

Ivars' expression changed, his eyebrows relaxed and his eyes softened as he realised what he'd said and what he couldn't take back. He knew what he'd done, he knew he'd disregarded your own sacrifices and disrespected you repeatedly. You were carrying his fucking child and yet he couldn't offer you even an ounce of respect. He asked too much of you, he would leave you for weeks at a time and only send letters every now and then. Before you were pregnant he would send you letters and send for you like a dog because he missed your touch and your kind words and now…now you were standing in front of him tears streaming holding your child in your hand.

Ivar crawled forward on the bed and three his legs around to be hanging off the side. He held out his hand to you and you took it with the hand holding your back. Ivar would give you the fucking moon if he had too, to win back your trust because he didn't mean any of it. He just missed your presence, your love and your affection that he had cursed you for not so long ago. As you stepped closer to him you went in-between his legs that had fallen apart, he leant his head gently on your stomach with the side of his face and stroked your stomach with his hand.

This unexpected tenderness made you well up, you had to look up to stop yourself from sobbing because you had missed this so much it hurt. Placing a hand on his head you stroked his hair gently and Ivar closed his eyes, taking in your scent and how in love with you he really was. He was so undeserving of love in his own opinion that he pushed it away without a moment's thought toward the consequences of his harsh words.

"I'm so sorry. I will be better, I will do better, I will be better." Ivar sounded like he was crying and you snaked your hand round to be under his chin, slowly lifting it up and seeing tears in his eyes.

He looked up at you with tearful puppy dog eyes and you fell in love with him all over again. You wanted to slap him, tell him he was a cunt for talking to you that way but violence wouldn't help anything so you just stroke his cheek with your thumb as you hand held his face. Ivar put his arms around your legs and hugged you close to him before kissing your bump.

"I don't understand why you treat me the way you do, but fuck…I know you love me. You have to be better, I can't take it especially when stress can impact the baby. I just can't do it anymore." You wiped your eyes with your sleeve and went back to looking at Ivar who had started sobbing and then dropped to the floor his legs apart as he dragged himself to bend his knees. You tried to help him up but he stopped you, holding your skirts he looked up at you with wet eyes.

"I beg for your forgiveness, I beg for your love, I beg for you to be my wife. I will fucking beg and keep myself in pain for as long as is necessary because I can't loose you." Ivar let out a sob and you couldn't help but let your mouth open slightly. He had never shown such vulnerability, such willingness to change. The King was on his knees begging for you to be his. You knelt down in front of him and took his face in your hands, kissing him softly and tasting salt mixed with copper and ale. It was quite a horrific mix on your tongue but you didn't care, you needed to be close to him.

Ivar put a hand on your ass and pulled you closer to him as one of your hands went round his neck and put pressure on both sides slightly. You'd learnt pretty quickly in your sexual relationship that Ivar didn't always enjoy being in control and loved submitting. It wasn't an overtly sexual interaction more of a powerplay, he knew that you were in charge and let you do whatever you wanted. You began to kiss his neck softly as he whimpered near your ear.

"I fucking love you." He whispered to you and you choked him harder, his head rolling backwards as he moaned.

"I know you do, Angel," You licked the lobe of his ear and heard his breath shudder slightly. "If you ever talk to me like that again, I will never touch you like this ever again." You withdrew your touch from him and he nodded, you slapped him and raised your eyebrow.

"Y-yes I understand." He whispered looking up at you adoringly and you smiled.

Helping him get his knees out of the uncomfortable position and be straight out in front of him you sat on his lap and kissed his forehead "I love you." He told you and you believed him, he trusted you so deeply.

"Now come here." You gently pulled his head to lean on your chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around you and started crying softly, you could tell how remorseful he felt and how much he regretted what he had done.

"I'm staying with you tomorrow." Ivar whispered against your breasts and you smiled, stroking his hair slowly.

”*°•.˜”*°•˜”*°•.˜”*°•. .•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

AN: I'm very happy to do more Ivar imagines if anyone wants any. I haven't written Vikings in like three years but still adore it xx

#ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar x y/n #ivar ragnasson x reader #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #vikings #ivar au #ivar #Ivar Ragnarsson #Ivar ragnarsson angst #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless fanfic #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings x reader #vikings x you #ivar angst #ivar ragnarsson angst #ivar ragnarsson smut #vikings smut #vikings series #king ivar #ivar imagine #ivar ragnarsson imagine #love #vikings imagine #vikings angst #ivar vikings

[queersouthasian]

So, I decided to rewatch ep 10 again, and it actually becomes more painful with every rewatch guys. It's so well done, definately one of my fav episodes other than ep 6 and 3rd and 4th part of ep 7. Babe crying asking for Charlie, wanting, needing him back, not giving two shits about the powers he regained, something which were so important to him, something that made him "Pit Babe", 'cause he no longer want to be anything but his lover's "phi babe". This paralleling to ep 5 of Babe saying if he can't race, he won't be anything. It's the way, Babe could finally race now without having any hindrance, but he can't. It's the way the powers he used to boost are something so annoying and undesirable 'cause their return is a reminder that Charlie is dead. It's the way Charlie once in ep 2(?) said to way, "I am just a sex partner, what a person like me be?", maybe an excuse back then but still painful considering how so many times Charlie gets refered to be someone inferior, inferior to babe, and he is not even bothered by it 'cause he himself knows he is nothing to babe. It's the way he expected Babe to get bored of him, it's the way he didn't expect anything back. This paralleling to Babe saying he misses him, he loves him, and he doesn't want to forget him, ever. The way he was breaking down, every part of his heart crying for Charlie, it's the way he talks to the grave as if Charlie can really hear him, it's the way he wants to keep those gloves, as a reminder that Charlie existed and his existence changed his fucking life, a reminder that he loves Charlie and will always do. It's the way he carried those gloves, looking at those, always tearing up thinking about his beloved, everywhere. I can't stop thinking about the fact that he most probably slept hugging those gloves during their time apart. So much grief, so much guilt, so much love and care for that person who thought he was replaceable and he was not even there to witness it. I will never get over how Babe got over Way so soon 'cause he had a place to go back to, an embrace to hold him, a safe space, a genuine lover but when he was gone, he wanted to embrace him, wanted to kiss away his pain, wanted to be his safe space but couldn't because the other is lifeless. "I am sorry I always talked bad to you", it's the way I always end up saying "no love you didn't" 'cause it was not his fault and Charlie knows that. But one moment which always makes me loose it, is when he says "why aren't you responding Charlie?". The denial is painful, obviously, but it's the way after all their arguments, it was always Charlie who apologised or tried to break off the tension, so, those words become so much more painful, 'cause it's like him saying, "what happened Charlie, why are you not coming to talk, why are you not saying anything, you never go silent on me, are you upset, should I be the one to apologise first this time, huh?, you will talk then, right?" And then the kiss.

#lgbtq #bl drama #pit babe the series #charlie x babe #give me the best reunion ep pls #pls give them happiness #last ep pls #manifesting only good things for the last ep

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 2

Title: Unknown Numbers and Sharp Tongues

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You get a text from an unknown number and it flips your day upside down.

Warnings: PG13, mild swearing, arguments

Word Count: 3065

Release Date: February 2, 2023, 1:40PM

A/N 1: She’s shorter but just as important

Series: Chapter One

It’s 12:07pm the Wednesday after the assembly. You're sitting on your bed sketching when a text vibration sounds from somewhere within the blankets crumpled beneath you. 

A pencil lead stained hand carefully snakes its way through the sheets to find your phone, and after locating it by your feet, you see a message from an unknown number waiting to be read.

Unknown Sender [12:07pm]: Hey, is this YN?

You raise a brow at the semi-suspicious text.

Normally when this happens, you just delete the message. You have everyone you're willing to speak with in your contacts already, so you know that it’s most likely spam. But the difference with this one?

They know your name. 

That being said, your guy friends back home have been known to, on occasion, pull shit because they know you can’t do anything about it. 

Though, that has never once stopped you from waiting to see them again in person and retaliating. Patience is a virtue and all that, but you think they’d of learned by now…

So you fire back, just in case.

You [12:08pm]: Hobi I s2g if this is you again I’m sending Nayeon that picture of you from 9th grade with shutter shades on and your ass stuck in a tuba 

Unknown Sender [12:08pm]: Oh wow, uhm…no, its not Unknown Sender [12:09pm]: But remind me never to get on your bad side.  Unknown Sender [12:10pm]: It’s Jungkook actually... I may have grabbed your number from Yuri’s phone. I hope it’s okay I messaged you 

Jungkook?

As in The Prince of the Western Shores, Jungkook?

Well...

This certainly isn’t how you thought your afternoon was going to go. 

You figured you'd never hear from him again after Monday’s assembly, like everyone else he’d greeted—Yuri aside apparently. Yet here you were, on your bed, in your university dorm room, having a midday text conversation with Prince Jeon Jungkook of all people.

You laugh to yourself and quickly change his name in your contacts, keeping it subtle. You don’t want someone to see his name pop on your screen and then suddenly have a legion of people harassing you about how you got the prince's number, and if they could get it from you. 

You [12:11pm]: yeah, it’s fine

And why wouldn't it be? You don’t dislike him, though he seemed to have thought so. Sure, you don’t particularly like the guy yet, but you're confident he feels the same about you—if he even thinks of you, that is.  

He probably just wants recommendations for things to do this weekend or to know where the cleanest washrooms on campus are. God forbid his royal bottom touch a less than sanitary toilet seat.

PJK [12:13pm]: Im afraid she had to explain to me who ‘blueballzbitch’ was when I accidentally saw your text to her the other day. Apparently my reaction after reading it was very funny

You [12:13pm]: I cant believe she still hasnt changed my name in her phone! That bitch!! she promised :( You [12:14pm]: Thats only my name because i told her she couldnt bring guys back to our dorm after 1 AM anymore! 

PJK [12:14pm]: can I ask why?

You [12:15pm]: there may have been an incident of a very drunk half naked man climbing into my bed at 4 am instead of hers….  You [12:15pm]: And needless to say, not the nicest way to wake up

PJK [12:16pm]: no I would think not. Though that explains her reaction a bit better

You didn’t even want to know. 

She did kick that guy out the second she heard your scream though, drunk as she was. But it didn’t stop her from moping for a week at your new rule.

Tough, you’d had a test the next day, so your decision was final. 

Your academics wouldn’t pay the price for someone else’s actions. On that you were and always have been, firm. You’ve even lost a few friends because of it.

But now your starting to wonder why he wanted to message you in the first place.

You [12:17pm]: i dont mean to be rude, but why did you save my number? To be honest i didnt think I’d hear from you again after monday

PJK [12:18pm]: well if we’re being honest…

There are a million different ways he could follow that sentence, and your mind is simultaneously running through all of them.

It takes him a few minutes, and a couple disappearance and reappearances of the texting in progress bubble, before a reply comes. Your pencil may or may not be a bit chewed on the end as a result.

PJK [12:21pm]: I was hoping that we could be friends, or acquaintances at least. I dont mean to come on too strong, its just that…. well you’re the only one whos really treated me like a regular guy, and i’d like to have at least one person to speak to who wont ‘glaze over the truth with pretty white lies’ just because of who I am. Its a surprisingly hard attribute to come by in people when you have words like “prince” and “your highness” attached to your name PJK [12:22pm]: Everyone either wants something from me or something I can do for them, and when we met? I could see you just…didn’t. It’s like you didnt even care I was there and that was incredibly refreshing for me PJK [12:23pm]: so um, yeah… that’s why

Oh… 

Oh. 

You were expecting anything else. Like literally anything else. He could’ve messaged you saying he wanted to give up being prince to join a traveling circus and was wondering if you knew the quickest train route into town and you would’ve been less surprised than you are right now.

But…Friends? He just wanted to be friends?

You guess you played your part a little too well on Monday. A part you didn't even realize you were performing. 

Was it really so difficult for people to treat him normally that the only person who had done so in three days, was you? And it was so noticeable that he sought you out because of it? His professors, at least, would have treated him like any other student…right?

You sit up, sketch long discarded on your bedside table. 

What would Yuri think about this? What would Nel think? Jungkook isn't just some guy from your Advanced Colour Theory class, he's the prince of your kingdom. 

You know your boyfriend wouldn't care if Jungkook kissed your hand in a passing greeting, that’s the standard greeting for every woman. 

But friends? 

Regular contact? 

Potentially being seen in public with him? 

Even a high ranking societal man would feel threatened, let alone Nel; the highschool boy you fell in love with from your tiny hometown.

Biting your lip, you think. 

You’re not an idiot. You know if people see you—a girl—hanging out with Jungkook—the prince, but more importantly, a boy—publicly, they will start talking. You know how the media make grand stories from two anonymously sourced, out of context quotes and a grainy picture from 100 feet away. 

What you don’t know is if you would or even could handle the public speculation that came with that. 

You don't want the media to come between you and your education. You don’t want to be at the center of attention. You worked way too hard to get where you are to have it washed away with a shitty ‘Prince Jungkook's college fling’ article that holds headlines for less than a week before the news cycle changes. 

Your credibility would be gone in an instant. And you’d only ever be remembered as ‘that girl the prince probably slept with in college.’

You should say no.

You’re going to say no.

—Wait.

Are you even allowed to say no?

Your phone pings again.

PJK [12:24pm]: i really just want my university experience to be as normal as possible before having to trade it all in for a crown and kingdom. It’s my last shot to experience life as a person before becoming a symbol and im hoping youll be kind enough to help me with that  PJK [12:24pm]: but i understand if you dont want to. Like i said in my speech, im not unaware of the repercussions of my celebrity, and its effects on others, both positive and negative. So please by all means, whatever answer you give, i’ll understand

Shit.

Shit!

Now you’ll feel like an ass if you say no, and you know that wasn’t his intention with the message, but you can't help it. He just wants to be as ordinary as he can be for a while. That isn’t a lot to ask—of anybody. 

After re-reading his messages about a dozen more times, you find your entire view of Jungkook shifting in an instant. 

Maybe he was the spoiled, rich, and plate delivered opportunities prince you expected him to be, but funnily enough, somewhere along the way it was you who forgot that he was an regular person. Just like you had told Yuri such a short time ago, and just like you now had to remind yourself. 

Jungkook’s really not much different than someone without all the special features his title brings him.

And with that in mind, you know your reply.

You [12:30pm]: can i think about it?

And not seconds later.

PJK [12:30pm]: absolutely.

A breath you didn’t know you were holding releases.

PJK [12:31pm]: that’s already further than i thought i’d get—if we’re still being honest. 

You [12:33pm]: im always honest, you dont have to worry about that. And same goes for you, dont worry about being truthful with me. Lies only create problems, and i dont have the time for them

PJK [12:35]: glad to hear it. I look forward to your answer, whenever and whatever you decide

Gently tossing your phone back onto your bed, you leave the conversation at that. You know you wouldn’t be able to make your mind up without going through all possible outcomes in your head first. And Yuri is usually a good enough listener to pipe in with decent advice now and then. 

So, for now, you pick up your pencil and sketch pad, and wait for Yuri to return from her afternoon class. 

A few hours later, and a decent way through your third life study, Yuri bursts through the front entryway. Your bedroom door’s open, and you’ve got a clear view of her shucking off her shoes and outer layers after casting her books onto the dining room table. 

So much for your focus. 

But you're glad she’s back, your conversation with Jungkook from earlier is still wracking your brain.

“YN, Sweets! You are NEVER going to believe the day I’ve had!” Yuri makes her way over to your bed, inhaling deeply enough you know a monologue is about to follow.

“Me too! But you first,” you slip in before the floodgates burst, knowing all her focus will be solely centered on you the second you mention Jungkook reaching out. 

“Jungkook invited me to lunch!” 

Or maybe not.

“Well sort of, that’s why I’m late getting back. He asked if there was a more secluded place to eat on campus,” she says the word like it’s a secret. Like she thinks he asked for seclusion to have it be a more intimate setting with her, versus a more private space for him. 

“So I showed him that little cafe behind the greenhouse that no one ever goes to cuz it’s too far away from central campus—you know the one that might as well just be a part of the greenhouse cuz of how close it is?” 

You nod. You were very familiar with that cafe, frequently going there to paint the flowers in the windows, and also, to think. But she doesn’t know that. It was sort of a safe haven for you, because like she said, it wasn’t a very popular place on campus, so it was quiet. 

You didn’t know Yuri even knew about it. 

Now sitting criss-crossed on the end of your bed, she continues, “Yeah, so I brought him there and we both got coffee, then I got a croissant and he got a sandwich. But YN, get this: we take. our coffee. the. same. way. Try and tell me we’re not made for one another now! Same major, same coffee, next thing you know we’ll be finding out we’d picked out the same baby names.” 

She stops to take a breath and you take your cue. “Woah there, Yurls, slow down a bit on that last one,” she makes a face at you. You ignore it. “But I think it’s great you're making a new friend that you have common interests with and are excited about,” you say, putting extra emphasis on ‘friend,’ thinking back to your conversation with Jungkook about people only ever wanting things he could give them. Surely you could subtly help your friend this way. “Just try to remember you have to be friends first before anything else happens.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Friends? YN please! We’re practically already dating, that’s three times in as many days he’s asked to hang out,” she closes her eyes, hugging herself. “I can almost hear the wedding bells.”

You look at her plainly and try your best not to sigh. 

She must know that this is just Jungkook taking her up on her offer, right? The one she made after seeing him off to the cafe by the biz-admin building the other day?

Before they parted ways, Yuri’d mentioned to him that if he wanted more inside knowledge or help getting around the campus he could ask her. And it made sense, having all their classes in the same area, when he said, ‘I’ll take you up on that.’

You know, because not unlike this conversation, she’d rushed home right after to tell you. 

Jungkook’s just trying to get his bearings in what is clearly still a very new experience for him and Yuri’s reading into it all wrong. 

You look at your friend who’s staring dreamily at nothing, more than likely caught up in whatever wedding scenarios of herself and Jungkook her brain is creating. 

Waving a fruitless hand in front of her face before snapping your fingers, you break her trance. “Helloooo? Earth to Yuri, come back down here please so I can talk some sense into youuuuu.” 

“I’m here,” she says, smacking your hand away playfully, gaze snapping to your less than amused one. Her smile falters at the sight. “What’s that look for?”

“Oh nothing, just that you sound like a delusional teenager instead of a functional adult at university pursuing a degree. You just met the guy three days ago and you’re already picturing your wedding together? Because you hung out over coffee twice and showed him where his classes are? He’s still a stranger, Yuri. Can’t you hear yourself?”

Her expression quickly changes to one of offense, and maybe even hurt. 

Perhaps you’d been a little too honest, but it’s not like this was new for you two. Sometimes she needed a swift blow to knock her down and she knows this, she knows you’d never intend to hurt her feelings. You always wanted what was best for her, and you know she feels the exact same way for you. 

So you’re shocked when she says, “You know you don’t have to be such a bitch about it if you’re going to be jealous,” crossing her arms defensively.

Jealous? You are anything but jealous, and you wonder why that’s where her mind jumps to first, brows scrunching in confusion.

“I’m not jealous. Have you forgotten about Nel? Boyfriend of five years, highschool sweetheart, ringing a bell?”

“Nel’s not a prince YN,” she counters in a tone so even, it’s unsettling. “And it wouldn’t be so unheard of for a woman in a relationship to be jealous of her friend who’s in one with a prince she wants for herself.” 

Oh, so that’s where she wants to go with this. She thinks that Jungkook will somehow make you forget about the five wonderful years with Nel. Like half a decade measures up to nothing if it means getting someone with a better name and a bigger paycheck. 

Fine.

If she wants to get bitchy about it, so will you. 

“Yeah, well it’s a good thing you’re not dating one then, isn’t it? Don’t get so defensive when all I’m doing is trying to help you see that.”

Yuri stands dramatically from the bed, clearly pissed, and storms out of your room, grabbing her things from the dining room table.

“I’m going to my macroeconomics class. By the time I get back, either have your door closed, or don’t be here.”

She leaves as rushed as she came, and you try not to flinch at the front door slamming shut, but do anyway. 

You shove your work off to the side, bringing your knees up to rest your elbows on while the palms of your hands cover your eyes, giving yourself a moment to breathe and process. 

This isn’t the first time this has happened and it certainly won't be the last. It was a downside between your personalities. You were the anchor who kept her from soaring too high in the clouds, just like she was the helium that kept you from drowning. 

But sometimes she wanted to see the stars, and sometimes you were scared of the surface. 

Releasing a deep breath, you decide to head out, having finished school for the day anyway. You only had morning classes on Wednesdays—an intentional scheduling on your behalf to have somewhat of a break midweek. You work hard but also know that burnout can kill.

Switching out your pencils for watercolour paint trays, and your sketchpad for your watercolour paper, you decide that the greenhouse sounded great right about now, especially now that you knew Yuri wouldn’t be there. 

There isn’t a better place for you to go and blow off some steam. 

Tossing your brushes, materials, travel water and wallet in a tote, you slide on your shoes and leave the dorm. The door closes much quieter this time. 

Chapter Three: Greenhouse Muses and Surprise Guests

A/N 2: I’m pretty sure this is the shortest chapter in the series (so far) but as you’ve read it’s an important step so I hope that’s okay!

<- Back

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook college au #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #bts #bts imagine #bts fic #jungkook scenario #bts smut #bts x reader #bts x you #bts au #bts fanfic #TWWWBAATTA #unknown numbers and sharp tongues #yoon writes

[acourtofthought]

"Elain would make a terrible High Lady"

"I've seen Rhysand do such ... horrible things, seen him play the dark prince over and over."

"I am here to help you fight against Hybern." "Bullshit," Cassian muttered.

"You'd be all too happy for war, considering how well you made out in the last one." "No one says war can't be lucrative," Helion countered.

I waited for it - for the blow that would surely doom us. We were thieves who had deceived him, we had come to his house in peace and stolen from him, had ripped into their minds to ensure our success.

One moment, Azriel was seated. The next, he'd blasted through Eris's shield with a flare of blue light and tackled him backward, wood shattering beneath them. / "Call of your overgrown bat," Beron ordered Rhys. Rhys was enjoying it, bargainw ith Eris or no - could have ended it seconds ago.

"You're a coward," I breathed to the High Lord of Autumn. Beron just said, "The same could be claimed of you." My stomach churned. "I don't need to explain myself to you." "No, but perhaps to that girl's family - but they're dead, too, aren't they? Butchered and burned to death in their own beds.

There was still much work to be done, trust to build.

The High Lords quarreled the most about the possibility of a new wall. And with every word of it, just as Helion said, that temporary allegiance frayed and snapped.

"We need the humans in other territories to trust us, if we can ever hope to achieve lasting peace." "Then perhaps Jurian and Vassa should deal with them."

"The Illyrians are pieces of shit," he said too quietly. I opened my mouth and shut it. / "They're hypocrites." "And what would you have me do, then? Disband the largest army in Prythian?" Azriel didn't answer.

"Your mate should have known better than to kick a downed male." "I can't say I'm particularly sorry that he did." "You will need Tamlin as an ally before the dust has settled. Tread carefully." I didn't want to think about it, consider it, today. Any day. "My business with him is done." "Yours might be, but Rhys's isn't. And you'd do well to remind your mate of that fact."

And though he roams these lands, he does not see or care for the neglect he passes, the lawlessness, the vulnerability.

I find the "Elain would make a terrible High Lady" arguments odd. The above is just a small list of what the leadership in Prythian looks like and the actions of those that report directly to a High Lord (who should be able to expect certain behaviors from his inner circle in important meetings or in regards to an entire group of their people). I'm not even trying to suggest that anyone is a bad High Lord, clearly Rhys and his ICs actions are meant to read as amusing and entertaining or warranted. And I think in certain situations there's only choosing between the lesser of two evils.

But it's evident that no one is perfect, that even the current High Lords are capable of mistakes and drama. And with so many strong personalities currently in charge, there is space for someone who approaches things in a different manner.

She had come alive here, and her joy was infectious. There wasn’t a servant or gardener who didn’t smile at her, and even the brusque head cook found excuses to bring her plates of cookies and tarts at various points in the day.

She had looked at that cottage with hope. I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger.

She was generous, loving, and kind.

Elain had taken charge of planning

Elain, to my surprise, had a horse, a satchel of food, and supplies ready when I hurried down the stairs.

She put a hand on Nesta's knee. "Feyre gave and gave - for years. Let us now help her. Help ... others."

A lady - that's what Elain would become. What she was risking for this. (Lady?!? As in High Lady?! Possible foreshadowing???)

"I'll do it," Elain said, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. She didn't wait for either of us before she strode out, graceful as a doe.

My sister Elain can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles.

Elain sat a little higher as she said to Cassian, "And as for Feyre's hunting during those years, it was not Nesta's neglect alone that is to blame. We were scared, and had received no training, and everything had been taken, and we failed her. Both of us."

Nesta went on, utterly unimpressed by any of us, "I assume you'll want to stay the night." I said, "If it's not too much trouble, then yes. We'll leave after breakfast tomorrow." Nesta didn't smile, but Elain beamed.

But Elain's cry - a warning. A warning to - . To my right, now exposed, Tamlin ran for me. To grab me at last.

Then Elain said quietly, "We could move them to Graysen's estate." "His father has high walls - made of thick stone. With space for plenty of people and supplies." "There are escape tunnels," Elain whispered. "Perhaps it is better than nothing." A glance between the Illyrians. "We can set up a guard - " Cassian began. "No," Elain interrupted, her voice louder than I'd heard it in months. "They...Graysen and his father..." Cassian's jaw tightened. "Then we cloak -" "They have hounds. Bred and trained to hunt you. Detect you." / Elain considered. "I can speak to him." "No," I said - at the same moment Nesta did. But Elain cut us of. "If - if you, and they" - a glance at Rhys, my friends - "come with me, your Fae scents might distract the dogs." "Glamour me," Elain said - to Rhys. "Make me look human. Just long enough to convince him to open his gates to those seeking sanctuary. Perhaps even let you set those wards around the estate." "This could end very badly, Elain." "It's already ended badly. Now it's just a matter of deciding how we meet the consequences." "Wisely said," Mor offered, smiling softly at Elain.

Then she was gone - shoulders a little squarer.

Elain offered a half smile. "I suppose that war makes wanting things like that unimportant."

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king's neck as she snarled in his ear, "Don't you touch my sister."

Elain swept in, apron gone and hair re-braided. "Please don't wait on my account," she said, taking the seat at the head of the table.

"It's their tradition though," Elain countered, her face still flushed with the cold. "One that they fought and died to protect in the war. Perhaps that's the better way to think of it, rather than feeling guilty. To remember that this day means something to them. All of them, regardless of who has more, who has less, and in celebrating the traditions, even through the presents, we honor those who fought for it's very existence, for the peace this city now has." For a moment I just stared at my sister, the wisdom she'd spoken. Not a whisper of those oracular abilities. Just clear eyes and an open expression.

"I asked Nuala to do it in that order," Elain said as the others gathered round. "Because you're the foundation, the one who lifts us. You always have been.

Elain, mourn as she might for the life she would have had with Graysen, had found a place, a role here. Tending to the gardens of Feyre's veritable palace on the river, helping other residents of Velaris restore their own destroyed gardens.

She had purpose, and joy, and friends. But those things had always come easily to her sister. Had always made Elain special.

When Rhys spoke like that, it was more of a command than a question. Elain waved a hand in dismissal.

"Using me."

"Elain showed some teeth."

"Don't forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one's hands dirty along the way".

And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her. But she hadn't hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was part of this court - and would do whatever was needed.

Nesta was wrong, Cassian realized, to think Elain as loyal and loving as a dog. Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.

Let's recap. Elain owns up to her mistakes, gives credit where credit is due, is wise, observant, easily makes friends, can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles, is willing to help out a people she only just became one of (and grew up fearing), brave when the situation calls for it, takes charge and pushes back on topics she thinks are important and is now offering herself up to dangerous situations. I also think it's important to note her diplomatic nature. Whereas Feyre and Nesta spent their childhood at one another's throats and hating their father, Elain managed a decent relationship to all three. No, she's not in a place to rule an entire court all on her own but neither was Feyre, that's why she had a partner by her side to help her learn (as Elain would too, these are romance books after all).

Prythian doesn't need another ruler who is willing to burn relationships in order to achieve a specific end result. No shade to Rhys, he's extremely self sacrificing and someone needs to fill the role that he does.

But we don't need another Rhys and Feyre, another Beron, another Tamlin, or even Tarquin (who while being a good male, doesn't really seem to go out of his way to interact with other courts). It needs a set of rulers who are better at negotiating peace between not only the courts but the human lands and those on the continent.

We know Lucien is set up to be a High Lord at some point (though something would need to happen to Helion for him to begin ruling in Day) and Elain is his mate. We know Tamlin is not currently any sort of leader to Spring so that means there could be a vacancy there. I doubt SJM told us that Elain's scent was a "promise of Spring" and that "the Spring Court had been made for someone like Elain" for absolutely no reason.

Of the possible future pairings, who would make more sense ruling the Fae in either Spring or Day?

Vassa and Lucien? Vassa who is a human Queen and has shown absolutely no interest in the needs of the fae after the war?

Az and Gwyn? Neither Gwyn or Az have been given hints that they'd be leaders of a court nor do they currently have anything to do with Day Court or Spring. Yes, Gwyn has Spring heritage through her grandmother but she doesn't have a connection to the political system there, nor does Az. Not like Lucien.

I think there is a huge amount of evidence showing why Elain would make an excellent leader and that's not even accounting for the fact that mates are equals. Even if in some weird twist she and Lucien don't end up together, it doesn't change that fact.

Mates are reflections of one another.

Rhys was the most powerful High Lord in Prythian's history, Feyre became his High Lady with the power of all 7 High Lords, both having a darkness to them.

Cassian is one of the strongest Illyrian's and the general of the Illyrians. Nesta had the power of death and is set to be the general of the Valkyries.

Lucien is a High Lords heir, showing the markers of such (knocking Cassian from his rage with a single word) AND has strong fire powers through his mothers line. Through Lucien we learned that High Lords are a different breed and through the Suriel we learned that they are not merely powerful, they are Power.

Elain as his mate would need to be a match to Lucien's power and even if she were not a High Lady chosen by the magic, there is little chance Lucien would not make her his High Lady as Rhys made Feyre his, meaning she would be a ruler by his side.

Diminishing all that we know of Elain and what we know of mates, claiming she'd be a horrible ruler though SJM mated her to a future High Lord, it's fandom pettiness born of hatred for her character.

#elucien #elain archeron #pro elucien #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #pro elain archeron #high lady elain

[yetanothergreyjedi]

Ghosts of Our Pasts: 8

DP x DC Crossover

Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne sibling AU

Masterpost Previous Next

Ao3

Part 8

"I wasn't sure what colors were still free,"

"Tt, It is ridiculous." Damian needed to stop saying things on impulse. Even if the oversized construction-orange hoodie jacket was a monstity, everything he said sounded cruel. Everything was cruel, he was aware he was not a pleasant person. It had never seemed like a problem before.

But his brother took it in stride, just like all his brothers did. Danny grinned, "Exactly!"

"It will draw attention," Father warned, but in the resigned way most often heard when discussing Grayson's early decisions as Robin.

Danny shrugged, "I can handle that, but I'm not like, super attached to it though, if its a problem."

"It is not a problem. You're wearing pants."

"Oh?"

"Robin insisted."

"Oooohhh," Danny said, only... he was looking at Damian.

"Not me! That was Gra— the first Robin!"

"Are you sure, I remember a time when you and pants did not—"

"I am wearing pants!"

Dany made a show of considering this point before conceding. "You are wearing pants."

Damian did not grumble as he pulled a spare domino and Comm from his belt. He took a step forward to hand them off no too-quick movements, nothing that might be perceived as a threat. And Danny simply took the items, if his movements were equally choreographed he did not show it.

"Test, test?" The voice came clear through the comms. They ran the rest of the comm checks, everything came up clear.

Danny expectantly bounced on his feet, he was wearing worn sneakers not boots.

"This isn't a patrol." Father reminded them, then he looked to Danny "We may need to stop and handle something on the way. Don't feel obligated to join in."

"I haven't lost that—"

"I'm not discrediting your skills. Or saying you can't get involved. I'm asking you to take additional caution until we get you proper equipment."

There was a moment where Danny's mouth worked, the usual whiplash of being interrupted by someone who had accurately guessed your argument and addressed it before you finished the sentence. Then he responded, "Yeah, okay, makes sense."

A nod and then they were off. The route had been planned specifically so they wouldn't have to grapple until Danny had a proper harness. Damian didn't know exactly what Danny had said the night before that led to them leaping across rooftops, but he couldn't find himself suprised that Danny kept up with ease.

It was an inverse of a game they'd once played. Danny would run ahead to show the way, slowing so a younger Damian could learn the footing on his own. Only now it was Damian showing the path, and Danny attempting to reach the same place quicker or more efficiently. He melded into the shadows suprisingly well for someone dressed to meet OSHA safety standards.

As much as he had worried, this was a good idea.

---

This was a terrible idea. Danny reflected. He had no idea what was normal for an average human. He hadn’t stuffed himself so firmly into his flesh in ages, and trying to do that while leaping up buildings! Could normal humans jump this high? Should he be able to lift his weightlike this? Was the domino hiding the fact that his eyes were probably a fog light?!

His feet were too sure on uneven surfaces, his shoes were gripping far better than they should and he knew for a fact the shadows were clinging to him! He tried to tell Gotham to knock it off, but he couldn't do that without unfolding a bit and he was definitely gonna to do something inhuman if he did that!

Bio-dad was right behind him! He should've downplayed his skills more, should've just suggested they drive! But noooo, he'd wanted to run around Gotham's rooftops like a bat! He still wanted to, he just didn't know how to human!

It was so much easier back home, had he flown that last bit? Or had he caught a little gravity anomaly? Is he standing on a vertical surface as if it were the ground? Cool! Let's find the step that will let us do it too! Vanished from existence? Probably a portal, best avoid that area! Gotham was, while a bit more liminal than most places, was not going to hide his weirdness!

Crap, had he been breathing enough?

---

Neither of his children were out of breath. Bruce realized when he got to the top of the building. He was proud of them. But as they sprinted off across the next set of rooftops, he reflected that he was not as young as he used to be.

---

Danny stopped without warning. His shoes made the barest scrape on the ledge that alerted Damian to stop too. He was looking down towards an alley barely visible from their vantage point. Then Damian heard what Danny must have: a man's voice, demanding a purse.

Danny inclined his head, Damian nodded. As one they lept down.

He was a little insulted that the man noticed him first, instead of Danny who could only be more obvious if he was wearing reflectors. But he did notice Danny, and the crook for some reason decided Robin was the lesser threat.

Damian did not freeze up. But suprise made his actions waver, and it only took a second for the man to point his gun at his new target.

Less than a second to fire. Everyone was moving. The woman was running. The man was turning the gun Damian. Damian aimed his sword to disarm, because he had managed to retrain his instincts away from an automatic killing blow.

The gun toppled away. And before Damian could fear what the crook changing targets after firing might mean, Danny had the weapon pointed at the man.

The crook with a blade aimed at his throat and a gun pointed at his chest paled and raised his empty hands in surrender.

"Now what do we do?" Danny stage whispered to his brother.

-

-

-

Danny, realizing he can't suck the mugger into a soup thermos, and that human vigilanteism has so much more logistics to worry about:

The orange jacket is absolutely a reference to Haiju's sequel Shadow of a Doubt. Both Phantom of Truth and its sequel were a major part of me deciding to get into this Phandom, as well as part of the reason I write nowadays. So please check it out if you aren't familiar.

It's also a family thing for Danny, if he can wear both his dad's colors and his bio-dads symbol, idea makes the core go brrrr

Next one will be short one, because I find it super easy to set up lines that I feel close out chapters really well. And I couldn't just put more words after that! But it's already written, and so's the chapter after that, so I'll probably post it soon

Tag list!

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @mur-ururu @luer-mirin @insufferablecatenthusiast @skulld3mort-1fan @alonedustspeck @voidbornposts @meira-3919 @marshmello @aethernorwood @mimilikey @undead-essence @cloudminder @markus209 @everything163 @latheevening226 @roman4517 @moobloomrights @battybatbat @lumosfeather18581 @werv @ahyesanerd @pyramaniac @lexdamo @princessbelix @bun-fish @deeannthepan @edgyboi10000 @thatrandomsarahchick @busterkeel @aconitewolfsbane @spoopyspoony @bright-shade @spidey29phangirl @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @keimiwolf @u-a-wizard-jamie @gay-puff @bicerise @itshype @blackfoxsposts @icanneverdecide @lolottes @chubbypotato @jovialherringtacoghost @saltyladynightmare

#ghosts of our past #goop #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #grey writes