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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 3 days

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If You Have Something To Say (Mouse series) - Max Verstappen

Summary: With Max being hit with a new wave of hate as a result of his wins, fans suddenly take a turn on y/n and Max makes it clear that he won't tolerate anyone who has any comments to make about his quiet girlfriend

Max might be a little bias. He obviously thinks y/n is perfect and that there is no possible way people can dislike her.

But when she went completely silent even towards him part way through the day, he wasn't sure what had happened. On rare occasion she might go silent when she doesn't feel way or she's done something to embarrass herself and doesn't want to address it.

"Hey, mouse." Max smiles pulling his helmet off and kissing her softly. "Can you go to the unit? We'll be getting out of here pretty quickly so I want you to be ready to go."

Y/n nods still not uttering a word before she stands up and rushes from the garage while GP appears for the quick debrief Max requested over the radio.

"Everyting ok?"

"I think she might not be feeling well. I want to get back to the hotel quickly." Max sighs shaking his head before gesturing for them to have a look at the data and discussing plans for FP3.

By the time he gets to her it's been a longer wait than he intended but with no media he can get them straight out of there and to the hotel without much issue.

He doesn't push her to talk as he keeps a tight grip on her hand as they walk through the paddock to leave or even when they're in the car with a drive in the driver's seat. But eventually they're walking into the hotel suite and he sighs watching her throwing her phone down onto the bed.

"Mouse..." Max starts catching her attention and seeing the bloodshot eyes and he almost trips at the speed he moves forward to look at her. "What's wrong? Why are you upset?"

Y/n only manages to take a couple short and stuttered breaths in before tears actually appear.

"I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong. Please talk to me...even if it's just a couple words so I know." Max panics, not just wanting but needing to be able to do whatever he can to stop her from being so upset. "Mouse please? I want to make everything better."

"I keep getting tagged in posts about-about how much people hate me." Y/n hiccups knowing she sounds pathetically childish. If you're going to be a WAG you have to take hate on the chin. Especially if she wants to be in a relationship with Max, one of the most hated drivers.

"Can you show me?" Max asks since he knows there's only more hurt and upset that can come from forcing her to tell him what people are actually saying.

Y/n picks up her phone and hands it to him hitting Twitter first before he flicks over to her Instagram tags and even on TikTok, which he doesn't personally spend a lot of time on but he knows y/n actually loves watching edits of him. On more than one occasions she's squeaked being caught in the act of watching them but it's definitely amusing from his end.

But all the posts and comments that she's tagged in are saying that she's rude and stuck up and the fact she won't talk to anyone isn't because she's just quiet and shy but because she thinks she's better than everyone. Especially the other drivers and even more towards the mechanics and lower paid jobs within the team.

"What a joke." Max mutters then sighing as he looks at y/n who is sniffling and wiping at tears that are still falling. "They don't even know you, Mouse. They have no idea who you are and they don't get to comment about it."

"I know." Y/n hiccups as Max moves back to her and just hugs her tightly, resting his chin on top of her head as she tries to calm herself down. "But people think that's how I am."

"They're just trying to get at you because I love you and they like to ruin nice things." Max whispers hating that he's really the source of this. He's why she'll get hate and even if every driver and every person in the team told the world that y/n is not stuck up and she's just shy and quiet. They wouldn't believe it because they believe what they want to believe even if it's entirely conspiracy and has no real evidence. "I'm sorry, mouse. This is my fault."

"No."

"They're just trying to hurt you because you're dating me." Max cements shaking his head before he kisses the top of her head, still holding her tightly. "I'll try and fix this."

"It'll probably just make it worse."

That's true. Usually as soon as you feed into their agenda the fans are like pirañas. If they know what they're trying to do to upset someone is working, they'll make it a point to really go in on that method of causing upset.

"I'm just going to private all my accounts and delete the apps for a bit." Y/n mumbles earning a sigh since she shouldn't have to do that just to try and take care of herself and stop herself from seeing the unwarranted attacks on her character from fans.

"I'm still going to tell them to stop." Max sighs then looking down. "Do you want to order room service?"

"All the desserts?"

"Yeah mouse, all the desserts." Max smiles lightly since if there's one thing that does make y/n happy it's sugar. Which is understandable because who doesn't love the comfort that a sugar buzz brings.

He does manage to cup her face and get a few kisses before reaching and grabbing the room service menu. He'll be doing the ordering but he definitely needs her to see what she wants before he calls for it.

Max and his team along with the Red Bull team all put out statements telling the world to stop making comments and digitally harassing y/n. She didn't see any of it, since she went through with her plan to just go off grid for a bit.

But there was certainly chatter about Max's out of character move to essentially tell everyone to shut the fuck up.

"Hey, mate. Everything alright?" Daniel asks as they stand together in the driver's parade. "I saw a lot of statements coming out. Is y/n ok?"

"Not really. The things they've been saying about her are just bullshit, they're making stuff up and they don't even know her." Max huffs shaking his head. "She knows it's not true but everyone saying it is just upsetting her that she thinks people really believe that stuff about her."

"That's rough." Daniel winces since he recalls Lando's girlfriend getting whole hate pages and ultimately it cost them their relationship because he couldn't handle putting her through that amount of hate.

Y/n is much more soft natured and even Daniel has a limited recall of how many times he even knows for certain that he's heard her voice. Initially he was actually a little offended till he realised everyone get such treatment in general. The fact he'd even heard her voice was a sign that she actually didn't hate him or fear being around him.

"Is she at the race today?"

"Yeah, but I've told her to just stick to watching in the unit. I think it's better if she just stays away from cameras as much as possible. The less attention on her the better hopefully."

After the parade, Max heads over to unit quickly just wanting to check on her one last time before he's gotta stay out in the garage and take the car out on track.

"Hey, mouse. You look comfortable." Max laughs since she's somewhat got the unit to herself. Definitely the room to view the race with the biggest screen in the unit.

"I am." Y/n smiles as he leans down to kiss her softly. "I didn't think you'd be coming back."

"I just want to check on you."

Y/n smiles before he nods mumbling for her to wish him luck though her expression gives him a silent message of "don't pretend you need a wish of good luck" and he steals another kiss before jogging back out the unit.

It's not exactly comforting for him to have to feel the need to step in when she is receiving hate all because of her connection with him. But Max will always protect his mouse. She's his world and honestly he really thinks if she wanted to stop coming to races he'd quit just to follow her wherever she wanted to be.

If she left him because of the hate, oh he'd make every driver and fans worst nightmare come true of really bringing back Mad Max. Anyone who crossed him whether it being in practice, qualifying or a race. He'd do whatever to ruin their race. Hell he'd probably go out of his way to ruin the entire field's race...aside from Yuki, maybe he'd like to have Yuki up there.

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landosjpg · 11 hours

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from my pov | ln

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: heavily implied body dysmorphia, disordered eating, insecurities, COMFORT

note: based on this request. despite of the previous warnings and this being more of a comfort blurb, i feel the need to clarify that i am NOT encouraging these behaviors and, as some sensitive topics are discussed, please DO NOT READ if this could be triggering for you or have any kind of negative impact on your mental health. i am also writing this from my own experience with these topics; everyone’s experience is different, so please be respectful.

and last, but obviously not least, if you’re going through something like this (or through anything, really) PLEASE REACH OUT! and if you’re not ready to do so, for whatever reason it might be, reminder that my messages are always open for anyone who needs a little rant or anything i could potentially help with.

and lastly, i don’t know how i feel about this one (yes i’m insecure about everything i post, leave me alone) so please share your thoughts with me as always <3

it had started only a few weeks ago. summer was around the corner, and inevitably, your social media was filled with girls in tiny crop tops or “summer body” posts.

normally, you wouldn’t pay too much attention to them; you liked your body the way it was.

but this year it was different. the stress of the past few weeks had a bigger impact on you that you ever expected.

the first time you noticed you were trying your summer clothes on. the skirt you loved being a little tighter than the last time you had used it.

it was only a few pounds, no one could really notice. but you could.

you shouldn’t have give it a second thought, but insecurities got the best of you and that very same moment you had decided that you needed to do something about it.

you would just stop snacking in between meals. you had it all under control, and in to time you would feel good about yourself again.

that’s what you told yourself.

but your rule of no snacking soon turned into skipping breakfast quite often and trying to make your meals as light as possible.

but you found yourself checking your body in the mirror more often than not whenever you were left alone.

“i’m back!” you heard your boyfriend announce, followed by the sound of the front door closing.

you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought of lando finding you like that, so you tried to put on your clothes as quickly as possible and wiped your tears from your cheeks before walking out of the bathroom.

you slowly paced to the kitchen where you knew he was, one of his hoodies over your body and your eyes inevitably red and puffy.

when you entered the kitchen, you didn’t even need to say anything for him to knew you where there, even with his back turned to you.

“got us dinner,” he said, taking the food out of a white plastic bag. “your favorite.”

you could feel his smile even when he still hadn’t turned to look at you yet, and it broke your heart a little that you weren’t in the mood for some junk food.

when your eyes met his, his face softened at the sight of you. he knew you were feeling down, but he also knew better than to ask. you would tell him, eventually.

“go choose a movie,” he uttered, voice tender. “i’ll be there in a second.”

you nodded and walked to the living room, sitting on the couch and trying to find a movie that could lift your mood up. just a little bit, at least.

it worked, for the last half of the movie; it eased off your worries for some time, and you found yourself lying on top of your boyfriend, worries about your recent insecurities now gone for a while.

you heard him sigh, his fingers brushing your hair softly as you rested your head on his chest with your eyes closed.

“tell me what’s up,” he whispered. “you’ve barely touched your food.”

“i’m not hungry,” you answered, making him roll his eyes.

“don’t lie to me.”

despite his insistence, he wasn’t mad; his tone was still gentle, and one of his hands slipped under your shirt to softly caress the skin of your waist. the touch that normally would have made you feel instantly better, this time making you tense a little. and he noticed, so he squeezed your side, urging you to speak.

“i just haven’t been feeling good lately,” you mumbled after a few seconds, your voice muffled as you were hiding your face in the crook of your boyfriend’s neck.

“hm?” he only hummed in response, kissing the top of your head and waiting for you to explain further, not really wanting to push you.

“i’ve put on a few pounds these past weeks,” your words were barely audible, voicing your insecurities was never an easy task.

lando heard you, though.

“that’s not a bad thing.”

“but it is,” you cut him off before he could add something else. his hand slowly rubbed your back as he took a deep breath. “you’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

he chuckled, “don’t be silly.”

lando squeezed you in his arms and planted another soothing kiss to your temple, trying to find the correct words to say.

“i’m not saying that just because i’m your boyfriend,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. he held your chin and made you look at him. “you’re gorgeous, baby. everyone can see that.”

your lips formed a little pout as you heard your boyfriend’s words, which he was quick to kiss away.

“and nothing will change that, ever,” his eyes met your teary ones, the corners of his lips perking up at your vulnerable state.

“but i…”

“nuh huh,” he cut you off immediately with a slight shake of his head. “no ‘buts’, love. you look perfect to me.”

he softly tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as he spoke, his eyes soft and his touch gentle when he then cupped your cheek.

“i wish you could see yourself with my eyes,” his whisper made you sigh as he nuzzled his nose softly against yours, comforting and sweet. “you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen, baby.”

“do you really mean it?” your eyes fluttered closed as you spoke, eyelashes resting on your cheeks.

“of course i do,” you could hear the small smile on his lips as he reassured you once again, the fingers that slowly creeped up the side of your body tickling your skin.

a sigh escaped your lips, your arms circling around your boyfriend’s neck as you pressed your lips against his in silent gratitude.

how lucky of a girl you were, you thought, for him to be just yours.

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #ln #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff

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slayfics · 2 days

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Eijiro teaches you how to use his headpiece.

1.2k words

“You guys are all wrong,” Minoru declared. “Yaoyorozu has the best hero costume.”

“Can you not be a perv just once Mineta!” Mina yelled, bonking him on the head.

You all had been discussing who had the best hero costume in the common room of the dorms before Minoru interrupted with his own opinions.

You rolled your eyes ignoring him and moving on, “Kirishima, I think your costume is pretty cool,”

“What really?!” The redhead perked up on the couch.

“No way! How is that any less of a pervy answer than Mineta?! Come on, what about me? My jacket is pretty cool!” Denki said eager for attention.

Mina ignored Denki’s desperate cry for praise and turned to you, “It is kind of an interesting choice since Kirishima’s costume is basically just pants,” Mina giggled.

Your cheeks flushed at your friend’s words, “No no! I’m not trying to be a creep or anything!” You backtracked.

“It’s ok don’t worry! I uh- didn’t think that” Eijiro said blushing alongside you.

“I was thinking about your headpiece when I answered, you designed it yourself?? It looks so cool!” You spoke trying to redeem yourself.

“Nah- don’t lie. You just like watching him run around without a shirt,” Denki huffed.

“Leave them alone man!” Eijiro said shoving Denki off the couch. “Yeah, I designed it myself,” he spoke turning his attention back to you. A prideful smile on his face from your praise.

“That’s really impressive!” You smiled. “How does it work?? Is it hard to get on?”

“The thing breaks every time he’s in a fight! It’s not that impressive…” Denki mumbled to himself on the floor.

Eijiro ignored him and answered, “It just latches on- it’s pretty simple. I can go grab it and show you.” He offered.

“Oh-ok!” You blushed, as he sprang off the couch to head up to his dorm.

“Wait!” Mina called. “Why don’t you just go upstairs with Kirishima? Then he doesn’t have to make so many trips up and down the elevator,” Mina suggested with a sly smile.

“Are you kidding me?!” Denki exclaimed, but Mina covered his mouth.

“Go you two!” Mina encouraged, shooing at you both with her free hand.

“I uh-,” you hesitated on the couch.

“It’s ok with me,” Eijiro spoke but quickly added- “I mean as long as you’re comfortable with it!”

“I am, as long as you don’t mind me in your room,” you answered.

“Go go go, we’ll be here. Right, Kaminari?” Mina said aggressively to him. Denki giving up just nodded and rolled his eyes at Mina.

“Alright let’s go,” Eijiro waved at you to follow him, with ab apprehensive smile.

Once you both were out of earshot Mina let out a laugh. “Man, they need so much help,” she declared.

“Maybe but- you don’t have to be pushing them together,” Denki complained.

“Oh, get over it. They have been crushing on each other for a long time now.” She answered.

The elevator ride up to Eijiro’s room was long and filled with awkward conversation.

“Could I get in trouble for being here?” You asked nervously.

“Nah I doubt it- besides I’m just showing you how my headpiece works right? I suppose that could be useful to know in the future if we’re ever teamed up together,” Eijiro justified.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agreed nodding happily.

You both made your way to his dorm door. You briefly remembered what his dorm looked like when your class held the dorm competition- but when Eijiro opened the door it was more intense than you remembered. The bright red curtains brought a whimsical sense to the room, and the posters covering the walls illuminated the room with his personality.

“Oh wow,” you exclaimed following him inside.

“I know I know- I already heard it from Hagakure. It’s not a very appealing room,” Eijiro said sadly.

“No! I love it!” You sang.

“What really?! Thanks,” he said smiling and blushing as he looked around for his hero costume. “All right, here it is!” he said, pulling his headpiece out.

Eijiro sat on his bed, and you nervously followed his lead sitting next to him.

“It’s easy I just put it on like this-,” he said placing it on, “then lock into place on the side.” The headpiece made a snapping sound as he locked it in.

“Oh, I guess that is really easy,” you laughed nervously feeling silly for asking how it worked now. “Can I see it?”

“Yeah, sure!” He answered and took off the headpiece, handing it to you.

It was heavier than you expected and cold to the touch. "Wow, this doesn't bother you?"

"Nope! Keeps me protected from getting hit in my weak spots," He answered.

"Can I try?" You asked.

Eijiro nodded and chuckled in amusement thinking it was cute you wanted to try on a part of his costume, but when you moved closer and placed your hands around his head he froze. He hadn't realized you meant you wanted to put it on for him.

Eijiro felt his breath catch in his throat as you were just inches away from him carefully placing his headpiece on.

You secured the metal piece around his face before catching sight of him staring intently at you. His gaze made your hands start to shake as you went to snap the headpiece in place. His vermillion eyes sparkled as he looked at you with a bashful smile.

The warmth of your hands on either side of him was intoxicating and he felt how could get lost there when suddenly, "Ow!" he yelped.

Your shaking hands had caused you to pinch the side of his face as you snapped the headpiece together.

"OH MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY!" you exclaimed springing up off the bed.

"It's ok!" Eijiro said, reaching his hand out to reassure you.

You wanted to believe him, but you saw a drop of blood drip down to his cheek.

"NO, YOU'RE BLEEDING!" You yelled, horrified with yourself. You booked it to his bathroom to find some first aid supplies. Eijiro followed behind you- blushing at you rummaging through his stuff in a panic.

"It's ok promise- but let me help you!" He offered.

"Oh man, you're right! First, I hurt you then I rummage through your stuff without asking! I'm the worst!" You proclaimed, dropping your head into your hands.

"No no! Really, it's not a big deal!' Eijiro said attempting to calm you as he brought out a band-aid.

"Here let me help you please!' You begged.

Eijiro smiled sweetly and handed you the band-aid and a cloth, then took his head headpiece off so you could inspect the injury.

Your eyes misted at the sight, "I'm so sorry- that looks like it hurt." You sniffed and dabbed at the injury gently with a cloth to clean off the blood. You moved closer to tend to him, and Eijiro once again felt lost in your close presence.

He smiled down at you, cheeks tinting as your hands grazed his cheek to place on the band-aid. "Believe me- I'm not even thinking about that right now," he said voice low and sultry.

You caught his gaze and blushed at realizing how close you had come to him in your panic. A blush dusted your own cheeks as you tilted your head and asked, "What are you thinking about then?"

sinners: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @derangedmango @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 2 days

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Imagine having deep discussions with the Whitebeard pirates

Ace: Have you ever wondered why the world government opposes people so far away from them, doing what we do?

Marco: [mutters] I wish you would just stop saying odd shit.

Whitebeard: well we're breaking the law, obviously.

You: It's a little deeper than that. It's because what many pirates do, is the same thing the world government does.

Marco: We are not similar in any way.

You: no, think about it, what does the world government do? They lay out a bunch of rules and if you don't follow them, they use violence to force most of the world into following them. And if a nation elects not to join the world government, or can't afford to join, they raid and pillage those islands and take their citizens as slaves.

Izou: On the other hand, if a nation does join the world government, they have to pay heavenly tributes, because if they don't, the Marines will raid and pillage your country. But if they pay the heavenly tributes, the marines will protect their nation from outsiders, like pirates and non-world-government-nations.

Whitebeard: However, on top of paying the heavenly tribute, the average person also pays local and national taxes, so it's a heavy burden for some countries.

Marco: Oh my gods, it's like a protection racket, that common thugs run, just on a massive scale.

Whitebeard: and, like many pirates.

You: they don't like pirates, for the same reason they don't like common thugs, because you all are muscling in on their turf.

Thatch: so most governments are just organized, and socially acceptable, thuggery.

You: Not all, look at Alabasta for instance, King Cobra has a lot of social programs for his people. Food programs and affordable housing for the poor. Medical programs that put a doctor in every village and a bunch of other stuff. The people should receive something back from their government besides 'protection'.

Ace: I know a lot of nations that are in the world government have a large lower class that they exploit labor from and bleed them dry with taxes, tolls, and fines. I can never forget what I saw at the Grey Terminal out of the Goa Kingdom's Great Gate.

Thatch: That's because in "normal society" they value wealth, and look down on and take advantage of people who don't have it. Meanwhile, in pirate culture, we value strength and look down on and take advantage of those who are weaker, like how we raid other crew's ships because we can, and they can't stop us.

Izou: [sighs] That's an oversimplification If I ever heard one.

Thatch: [steps into Izou's space bubble.] You got something to say to me?

Izou: I've been to both world-government nations and non-world-government nations, and I can tell you that they value both strength and wealth. It's just different classes value one over the other. The upper and more privileged class values wealth, and daintiness because they can hire the strong. While the less privileged value strength, because it helps them survive, because they don't have money.

Thatch: I know that, did you forget I grew up poor as shit, mister little daimyo's vassal-boy.

Izou: And I was a wandering beggar minstrel before that, also keep Oden's name out of your mouth.

Thatch: how about you fucking make me?

Marco: [hops between the two men and dramatically claps his hands together like a clapperboard.] Aaand scene, that was a brilliant performance, gentlemen.

Ace: it was almost hard to tell that you two are actually friends.

Thatch: [huffs] Alright, I'll take it back, I'm sorry Izou.

Izou: I'm sorry too

You: you all are too fighty.

Ace: bitch, you're the most stab happy out of all of us.

You: I am not

Whitebeard: Just last night, you stabbed Vista's hand with a fork because he kept reaching over your plate.

You: ... I did do that, but only after asking him to stop three times. Which is more than reasonable, he's a grown-ass adult, and he, and his fuck ass mustache, should know basic table etiquette by now.

Ace: and then you stabbed me for no reason, with the same fork!

You: that was for good measure, just in case you got any ideas!

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #whitebeard pirates #whitebeard #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #marco #marco the phoenix #marco the pineapple #izou #thatch #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #4/22/24 #no beta we die like men

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ldysmfrst · 2 days

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American Mate - (5) Heated Discussions

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 5 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 2765 (sorry it is so short)

Work count for Story: 19,008

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I started a Ko-fi and a Patreon if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, arguments, comfort, Alpha Space, close proximity, and scenting.

Story Summary: The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

Keep Safe. Keep Safe. First, it was Taehyung, and now it's Yoongi. Alpha Space seems to be no joke. Derek was not lying when he said this mindset helps them protect. Let’s hope this doesn’t mean they will treat you like a child.

Walking out of the elevator, you cannot help but smile at the rest of the Bangtan pack. While still in pain, you felt safe around them.

“Excuse me, Miss Y/n. I have a few things that I would like to discuss with you before we get going. Allow me to walk you to your van,” Manager Sejin directs you off to the side with a nod from Namjoon.

Yoongi closely follows you as you go with Manager Sejin. “Miss Y/n, thank you for your care and consideration in this situation. I can promise you that it will not be easy for the eight of you, but it will be worth it.”

As he speaks, you feel a tail wrap around your waist, and a hand touches your back. Looking over your shoulder, you see that Yoongi has his hand on your upper back but is facing away from you, looking at his packmates.

Noticing that the group has gathered in a circle, something significant is being discussed. Not wanting to keep Yoongi from doing something important, you look back at the manager.

“Manager Sejin, I do not feel so well. Can you please take me to the van? I would like to sit down and process things.” He nods and moves towards the van in front.

“Mr. Min,” you smile softly at the jaguar as he looks at you, keeping an ear tuned in to the group of men. “I am going to go sit in the van. I am sure that I will be fine there while I wait for you and your packmates.”

Adding a bit of a pout to your smile, you ask, “Can you go and make sure everything is okay so that we can go? My hand is really starting to hurt?”

“Yes. Van safe. Manager Safe. Go packhouse now.” Yoongi responds.

Unwrapping his tail, he pushes on your back softly, urging you to get in. He returns to the circle of hybrids in what looks like a new heated discussion.

After exiting the elevator, Taehyung makes to stay with you, Yoongi, and the manager but is stopped by Jungkook. The younger one knows Taehyung would want to be a part of the discussion that is soon to come, even if he is still in Alpha Space.

After you had gone off with Yoongi and their manager, the remaining packmates circled up at the youngest's request. The mates seek comfort in one another. Jungkook hugs Taehyung from behind, while Jimin hugs Hosek around the waist as he leans against Seokjin.

Most of the pack had been through finding mates since there are six of them. Jungkook was the only one who understood the concept of what to do with a new mate but had never been on this side of the situation.

“There are two vans. Obviously, Yoongi will be going in the van with Y/n, but who is going with them?” asks Jungkook, looking around as it dawns on them.

The vans only fit five people in the back. Each mate immediately started proposing why they had to be in the same van as you, all at once.

Seokjin said he only got to speak to you before the observation room and needed to see if his Alpha would react like everyone else has so far.

Hosek tops everyone, saying that he has only ever gotten to look at you, and it’s high time he was able to speak to the newest mate.

Jimin agrees with Hosek and thinks he can help get Yoongi out of Alpha Space on the trip to the packhouse.

Taehyung keeps quiet, his Alpha Space pulling at him to be near you again soon. However, Taehyung’s Alpha was much calmer and understood that being the second youngest meant he would most likely not be allowed to go.

Jungkook argues that he was the one who got you to calm down in the break room, and your instincts are already reacting to him. Therefore, he is the best person to keep you calm from here on out.

Rubbing his temples, Namjoon lets out a sigh. He said you were ‘no trouble,’ but you really are gonna be trouble for them, but not in a way he is worried about. It's just going to be a change in dynamic.

“Guys, we all want to spend time with our new mate, but we must remember that she is human and doesn’t understand. Right now, all she knows is that Yoongi is deep in Alpha Space, and we, as a pack, must help her situation.”

“How are we going to tell her, Hyung? If her family member's statement is true, she won’t believe us,” Jimin says, looking your way, ears flat in concern.

“That is a good question. I don’t have an answer right now.”

“We may not have much time to come up with something. She needs to know. She needs to understand,” Hosek voices with watery eyes. If what that man upstairs said truly is the kind of person you are, they must help you grow to recognize yourself.

Moving to hug Hosek with the others, Jungkook adds, “She may know about hybrids, but she doesn’t know enough about the Alpha-side of the culture, and what’s even worse is that she doesn’t know how precious she is.”

“That’s it! I go in van. Show Mate real!” Taehyung finally speaks up. He turns to walk toward you with a puffed tail and determination, only to be stopped by Soekjin.

“No, you have spent time with her. She knows you care, but she still thinks I am looking at one of the playmates they introduced us to. I am going to go with her.”

Within seconds, they are back to all talking over each other. Each of them demanded the other stay behind with justifications. This time, Namjoon joins in the fray. None of them notice that you have entered the van, and Yoongi is standing just outside the circle, watching the hushed chaos.

With a stern voice that is just a bit louder than everyone else, Yoongi declares, “Packhouse, go now. Mate in pain.”

Silence takes over the group as they all look in your direction. Though you are inside the van, they can still see you. Taking in your appearance, they notice your wrist keeps swelling more, your face is paler, and you are bouncing your leg with nerves.

"Yoongi-hyung is right. We need to go. Yoongi, Hosek, Jungkook, and I will go with Y/n. The rest of you will go in the other van,” Pack Alpha says with a hint of Alpha voice, trying his best to get everyone going.

“No,” Soekjin counters. “I pull the eldest card. Kookie, I am sorry but you should go with the others and help with Tae. I want to talk with her.”

“Hyuuunnnnggg,” whined the youngest, “fine, I will sit in the reject van.” Jungkook stomps off to the second van. His ears droopy, and his shoulders rounded like a scolded child.

“We got our bun,” Jimin says as he follows, pulling the still crystal-eyed Taehyung along. He mutters promises of scenting, nesting, and various kinds of cuddles if the Alpha joins him and the bunny in the second van.

Taking a seat in the van, you notice two captain chairs and a bench seat. Not knowing where everyone else sat, you figured Yoongi’s Alpha would practically require him to sit near you, which meant the bench seat would be the best.

Sitting in the middle of the bench but on the edge of the seat, you bounce your leg while you wait because your anxiety is still bugging you. Your wrist is throbbing now.

You wish you had something to drink as you eye the bottles of water sitting in the different cup holders. Wishing they had something more potent, you keep quiet, and your eyes return to watching the group talk.

Noticing where your line of sight was, Manager Sejin grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler built into the center console, opened it, and held it out to you. “Would you like something to drink? We only have water.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir. I didn’t want to take something that belonged to the pack.”

Shaking his head, Manager Sejin can smell your nervousness as his eyes flit over your form. Then he takes a quick look at the pack. They are still deep in discussion. Finally, he looks you in the eye.

With a sigh, “Miss y/n, may I give you some advice?”

Swallowing your water quickly, you give him your full attention and nod.

“You are a person. A person that has needs, wants, and desires. Don’t be afraid to speak up. Ask for things. Demand things. I know they can be a bit much but they are each a person just like you. Idol or not.”

At the sound of footsteps, both of you look to see some of them approaching. Before he moves to the front seat, he says, “They will be there for you.”

You are not sure what was more surprising. The fact that the two captain's chairs could turn to face the backseat or that Yoongi allowed you to be sandwiched between his older packmates.

Seokjin entered first. He sat on the bench to your left, and you hurried over to give him room. This was short-lived because next came Hosek.

Hosek gracefully wiggled his way to your right side on the bench. No wonder he was a dance god, you thought to yourself as you dropped your eyes to the floor to avoid watching his chest and hips pass your face.

This puts you in the middle and unable to keep any respectful distance between yourself and them. Feeling a blush creep up your neck and face as the two men’s bodies pressed against your larger form, you move to sit on one of the other chairs.

“Sit. Safe. Hyungs…hmmm…” Yoongi starts to explain, but his Alpha Space limits his words since he and his Alpha don’t want to give too much information about you being their mate just yet.

“Sit, please, doll. Yoongi will want to sit near the door to be your first line of defense. I guess you could say,” Hosek speaks up gently, pulling at your elbow and guiding you back to your seat.

“Yes. Keep Safe. Guard.” Yoongi says with the look of a drill sergeant on his face as he takes the chair near the door. Namjoon, having already taken his seat in the other chair, spun it to face you.

“Guarding the door, got it but I could sit in the chair and Mr. Prime Alpha could sit with you. I am sure it would be more comfortable with him here than with me.”

Next thing you know, you are face-to-face with Seokjin as he leans his chest across your body to tighten you in. You hold your breath as you make eye contact with his deep, intelligent eyes.

“I do hope you are not implying what I think you are,” Seokjin comments while handing Hosek your seatbelt.

His eyes are searching yours for something. As your blush deepens, a smirk grows on his face before he says, “you are much more cozy to sit with than Joon, Miss y/n.”

You are dizzy at the thought of making yourself ‘cozy’ with Seokjin. Blinking rapidly, you try to return to this reality and out of the gutter as you chuckle a response, “Ah, cozy, haha, I don’t think Gabriel Iglesias uses that in his levels.”

A mixture of hissing and growls fills the van. Your eyes snap up to see that Seokjin is the one hissing as he sits back correctly. Looking over, you see Namjoon’s jaw is set, and Yoongi’s eyes have narrowed as they growl.

Instinctually, you lean away from the dangerous noise makers which causes you to press against Hosek. Placing a hand back on your elbow, he leans forward, whispering in your right ear, “Doll, I think you have had some rather mean and disrespectful people around you in your past, but you are with us now.”

“We do not allow for anyone to be self-deprecating. From the look on Yoongi’s face this isn’t the first time you have done this.”

Not taking your eyes off the three men whom you seemed to piss off yet again, “It’s not self-deprecation. It’s pointing out the truth, which helps me stay grounded.”

A soft hiss is heard in your ear, causing you to jolt forward, only to be stopped by an arm now around your waist. Hosek chuckles as he pulls you back against his chest. His warm breath only adds warmth to your already heated skin.

Whispering in your other ear, “While it is nice that you are so instinctually responsive to us, doll. You must learn to listen when you are told something. In time you will believe what we tell you as well.”

While time in the van seemingly stops and sound becomes non-existent, the focus is on you as you battle your various reactions.

Your body responds in a mix of ways. The lean but fit body pressed against your back warms you, causing your heart rate to race. However, the deep chuckles, hot breath on your neck, and primal eyes watching you cause heat to start pooling lower on your body.

Your mind is back in your damn nightmare because you cannot seem to go more than five minutes without causing some kind of adverse reaction from the world’s most famous male K-pop band.

To top it off, you are internally scolding yourself for losing your professionalism when all you want to do is figure out how to make them stop being upset at you and hide before they notice that you are getting riled up over basically nothing.

Your gutter of a mind now takes the nightmare of being hunted by the pack of Alphas in a much different direction.

“Kookie! Kookie! Come on, bun. You know Jin-hyung is only trying to find ways to help,” Jimin coos at the upset bunny hybrid. Shaking his head, Jimin wonders why it is his job always to calm down these two lovebirds.

Realizing Jungkook is a lost cause, Jimin undoes his seatbelt and sits in Taehyung’s lap, gaining his attention. Jimin asks, “Alpha, is this okay? We really need Tae Tae back to help with Kookie and our newest mate. If I scent you well, can you let go?”

The crystal blue eyes look over his slightly older mate,”Scent then help mates.”

Smiling sweetly at the Alpha, Jimin noses at his jaw, causing the tiger to tilt his head to grant more space. Scooting forward and resting fully on Tae’s thighs, Jimin rubs his cheek along Tae’s jawline. Soft puffs of warm air blow across Tae’s neck, causing the Alpha’s breath to hitch.

Continuing his journey, Jimin sniffs down the tip of his ear, down his neck to the bend where the scent of ebony wood is most robust. Pressing a soft kiss to the gland, the scenting session continues.

The scent of ebony wood, oranges, and vanilla mixes. It is not long before the pouting bunny hybrid starts to watch his hyungs. Long forgotten is the reason why he is upset as he slowly releases his own calming cinnamon-like scent into the mix.

Realizing that he has successfully got one of the two mates into a better mood, Jimin ups the ante. Shifting his weight forward, he lays his body flush against Taehyung. Within moments, Taehyung’s hand gripped Jimin’s tiny waist, pulling him in tighter.

Chirping happily at the response, Jimin kisses up and down Taehyung’s neck. When Taehyung starts to scent Jimin back, Jimin nips over the scent gland and laves it with his tongue, mixing their scents deeper.

Soon, the youngest joined them on the bench, sniffing the air and whining. Shifting closer, his bunny tail wiggled, and his ears stood as tall as they could inside the van.

“Tae-hyung, Minie-hyung, can I join? Please?” Jungkook asks as he softly places a hand on Jimin’s thigh.

Nodding, Jumin moves to the other side of Taehyung’s neck, and Jungkook takes his place. Drowning the spaced-out Alpha in the loving scents of his two mates.

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nixthelapin · 1 day

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Anyone else think Marinette’s new outfit is just really bad?

I can’t claim to have that great of an eye for fashion, but this just looks like a tacky performer costume to me- the tights, the jacket looking like a fake tux, right down to the tiny bow tie that’s just sitting on her shirt- rather than an outfit an actual person would wear, especially someone who’s biggest dream is to be a fashion designer. And I don’t really think the pink of her shorts go well with the brown-gray leggings, the colors just feel off to me.

I want to like it, I think it has aspects I enjoy, but overall it just doesn’t do it for me and I kinda hate it.

Idk am I going crazy here? I haven’t seen a ton of discussion about her new design, so it’s hard to say what the general opinion is, but even if the stuff I have seen, it’s usually excitement for it, nothing really negative (design-wise, not about the narrative or overall direction of the show lol). But I’d really like to hear what others think about it.

#one thing I do like is the boots though #(it also is very reminiscent of Lila… 👀)#and I can get behind the shorts and tights thing #Luz in TOH wore that style well #but I think the overall design is just executed poorly #miraculous #mlb #miraculous ladybug #marinette #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #ml salt #ml season 6 #ml criticism #ml critical #marinette redesign

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lover-of-mine · 2 days

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Okay, I have been desperately trying to figure out what the blue and yellow means, right? I have been driving myself crazy.

And the other day I saw an edit and I was like "I'm stupid, I'm looking in the wrong place" but I didn't have the time to check this theory until earlier today, and now I'm losing my mind. So for this one, I'm gonna use the fact that they are using the sun on a wall and that they completed the blue and green with Buck and Eddie at the gym scene with the bottle and the towel to assume I am right, and they complete these things with other elements of the scene, wall, decoration, everything.

Okay, so, when tracking the blue and green thing so I could make this post, I kept wondering why there aren't a lot of Henren examples of it, this season has given us a few more examples, but I'm pretty sure there are only these 2 examples before season 7. But like, I didn't think much of it even though I didn't understand why.

But Anna, I thought this was about the blue and yellow, why you talking about the blue and green? Well, I think the blue and yellow is the blue and green for queer couples. Stay with me, I promise I have enough proof to create a reasonable doubt lol.

Okay, so, the other day I saw a henren edit that had their first date and I already had the yellow behind Eddie in my mind and was like, that's interesting, their first date is blue and yellow. So I had that in my head.

Then, someone is making a Karen in every episode series, and I saw a set of her in yellow and was like "wait, I need to stop looking for answers in the straight couples, buddie is a queer couple, I need to see if this is a pattern that has already been established for the other queer couple, do henren have different rules?" and yes, I think they do.

Going back to the blue and green thing for a second, the easiest couple to track the blue and green is madney. Every couple has worn blue and green, but they have been blue and green since their first scene. And while they do wear blue and green for inconsequential scenes, they are in blue and green for things like getting back together in season 6, finding out Jee is a girl, the date after Doug, the hospital after Doug, the whole Boston episode is blue and green in nature, I talk about that in more detail in my blue and green meta if you're interested.

So, assuming they are establishing the blue and yellow with henren in the same way they do the blue and green with madney, blue and yellow in important henren scenes sounded like a nice bet since the blue and yellow is present on their first date, right? And the same way Boston is inherently blue and green, tomorrow is very blue and yellow.

But you don't really think I'm telling you I established a pattern with only one episode, right? Using other elements of the scene, considering the way they are using the sun a lot with buddie, I have quite a few examples, going back down to when they accept that the IVF didn't work and that they'll be okay. I also really like the way the club in fomo is lit in blue and yellow.

But Anna, you are using the wall a lot. Yes, I am using the wall a lot. Why am I using the wall a lot? You know how madney is the guide for the blue and green? Their house is blue and green. Like decorations and stuff. Mostly the kitchen, but still. The detailing there, the pans, the blue chairs, the blue couch. Even Jee's room is greenish.

So, henren's house being yellow works, I think.

Another point towards that is the way that Buck's bi awakening is blue and yellow.

So, I'm gonna go insane and say the blue and yellow thing is the blue and green thing but queer.

But, looking at that and knowing that we are using other elements of the scene, buddie gets interesting. The earliest example I can find with henren is in 3x04 when they are discussing the IVF.

So I'm not gonna look before that BUT let's look after just for fun? So, I talked about the blue and green aspects of the grocery store scene, it's is also yellow, mostly behind Buck, there are yellow flowers on that bouquet next to Eddie. This one is a real stretch tho, I will admit that lol

Is this one a stretch? Maybe, less of a stretch than the grocery store tho.

I like this one, the summer camp scene with this interpretation. And the blue chair, and the building back there.

This one, I need to add this because of the oven and the light behind Eddie, but I admit, it's a stretch, but everything here is a stretch so lol

Poker date tho? We're getting closer lol even more when they are getting their winnings and Buck takes the red jacket off.

Also, the beer, they usually drink the genuine beer, that's yellow, and the coming out scene had a blue labeled beer.

BUT my question is actually about the will reveal. Because this scene is undoubtedly blue and yellow.

So, if I'm right, what does this mean for this scene? Because this scene looks like a love confession, sounds like a love confession, AND was talked about as Eddie saying he loves Buck to the core. I have many questions now. But I will accept this so I can stop thinking about it.

Anyway, this is my current theory on the blue and yellow.

As always, if you read this, I love you 💜

#911 meta #911 #buddie thoughts #buddie #do i sound as crazy as i think? aoksapskpalspals #anyway #here #911 spoilers #sorta

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storiesofsvu · 1 day

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Decadent Desires Ch 3

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, minor political conversation, minor mentions of sexual encounters.

It was the sound of your coffee pot automatically brewing that originally roused you from sleeping, the beeping signalling it was done the reason you finally got out of bed. Traipsing down the stairs still in your silk pj set you yawned, starting to stretch out your body, dropping your phone on the breakfast bar before padding through the living room to open the blinds. The sun slowly rising through the sky and you deemed it warm enough to crack one of the windows, letting yourself actually get some fresh air on a work day. Wandering back to the kitchen you pulled down a coffee mug, adding a bit of creamer from the fridge before filling it with coffee. Right as you went to take your first sip, your phone buzzed on the countertop and you let out a huff, scooping up the device to a text from Heather.

‘You can work from home, it’s a low day.’

‘Thank god. I really didn’t want to put real clothes on.’

‘Well you’ll have to at some point. You’ve got lunch at Old Ebbitt Grill at two.’

‘Who am I schmoozing for you?’

‘Emily Prentiss.’

‘The fed from yesterday? What’d’ you need with the FBI?’

‘She asked to meet with you. You’ll have to discuss it with her.’ ‘Put it on my card.’

‘Alright. Thanks.’

‘Wear that Tom Ford blouse I like so much.’

‘The blue one?’

‘It brings out your eyes.’

‘I’m beginning to think you might have ulterior motives going on here...’

‘Enjoy your lunch.’

You dropped the phone back onto the counter with a huff, knowing you weren’t getting another word out of her on the subject. It wasn’t unlike Heather to send you in to do a certain level of dirty work when it came to getting other politicians to do what she wanted. It was technically part of your job, she would simply just suggest you use your assets in a way she couldn’t to get them to lean her way, and it almost always worked. Still, you couldn’t possibly imagine what a Section Chief from the FBI would want with your skill set, surely the bureau had their own type of publicists to deal with whatever kind of a situation this was.

You glanced to the clock above the stove to find it was barely eight o’clock and nearly debated going back to bed but you knew that was a bad idea and turned to your coffee instead. You thought about what to do for breakfast while you grabbed your work phone and laptop from your bag, setting them up on the breakfast bar before opening the fridge. You settled on some easy eggs and avocado on toast and restarted the coffee machine to brew a fresh pot, turning on an instrumental playlist on your phone to get your day going and your brain running.

Finished with the food, you refilled your coffee and settled in at the counter to start sorting through emails, shooting one off to Heather with reminders of all the upcoming week’s appointments, meetings and appearances. The rest of the morning felt rather dull, the anticipation of lunch piquing your curiosity more often than not, sending you down spirals rather than focusing on your actual work. You caught yourself leafing through FBI websites and any news articles you could get your hands on, and considering the status you held, that was more than the general public.

Finally around eleven thirty your brain couldn’t get through another email and you opted to jump over to the gym for a quick workout to distract yourself for a bit. You left more than enough time to shower, making sure you were fresh and styled, selecting the blue blouse Heather had recommended before finally leaving your house.

Old Ebbitt Grill wasn’t far, it only took you ten minutes to get there, especially considering the lack of midafternoon traffic. You’d been there a few times before, a standard choice for business lunches among the elite of Washington, close enough to Capitol Hill that it was convenient but just far enough away that it was slightly more away from eavesdropping ears. You pulled up the drive in front and were offered valet service that you accepted, passing off a five for a tip before heading inside where you were greeted by a young bubbly hostess.

“Hi,” you smiled back, “reservation at two, could be under Walton, Prentiss or Dunbar. I think it’s only for two.”

Her finger began scanning through the reservation look in search of one of the names, “oh! There you are.” She beamed up at you, “Walton for two. You’re the first to arrive, would you like to wait or be seated?”

“I’ll sit.” You laughed softly, “god knows I could use a drink.”

“Of course, right this way.”

You were led past the bar area to the dining room and directed to a green velvet back booth, white table cloth adorning the table. You slid in as the hostess scooped up the extra place settings and wine glasses,

“Can I get something started for you?”

“Uh… two waters and a glass of pinot grigio would be fantastic, thanks.”

With another smile she was gone from the table and you were left to settle in, glancing at your watch you realized you were practically twenty minutes early and let out a soft sigh. Punctuality was almost too much of your strong point, but at least you were never late for things. You scanned the menu quickly, sliding it off to the side to pull out a work file that you’d been putting off looking through, thanking the server that came back with your drinks.

When Emily entered the restaurant she wasn’t entirely too sure what she was getting into, it almost felt weird to be doing this during the day, especially on what was technically a work day. She’d gotten an out of office lunch and work from home afternoon approved so she didn’t have to drive back, and it was Friday so she just kept telling herself it was an early weekend. The hostess picked up right away that she was meeting someone and offered up your last name to confirm before guiding her through the room.

The moment they were through the bar Emily had eyes on you, neatly tucked into a booth, a pen in your hand and a file folder in front of you that all your attention was focused on. Your hair was pulled back off your face but most of it still down and loosely styled. The make up on your face was slightly more detailed than it had been when she’d met you at the office, a little heavier around the eyes, a slightly less neutral lip. Your outfit hugged your frame, accentuating your body perfectly, blue top dipping slightly to expose a tasteful amount of cleavage, black pencil skirt leaving just enough leg out to be admired, and of course designer heels on your feet. It was all accented with a silver bracelet, necklace resting on the swell of your chest and jeweled earrings to match your shirt. You glanced up at the movement coming toward you, a smile taking over your face as you greeted her.

“Agent Prentiss,” you smiled as she slipped into the booth, “or, is that a demotion? Should it be Section Chief Prentiss?”

“That’s way too much of a mouthful.” She laughed, “just Emily’s fine.”

“Alright.” You shot her a grin, flipping the file shut and capping the pen before you slid it back into your purse, “sorry, work never ends.”

“I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” While she was concerned she may have been late, she was happy to see that you were completely content on your own, and that you took work on the go, already another green flag in her book.

“Oh not at all, I have a habit of being insanely early wherever I go.”

There was a slight pause as the server came over to ask about drinks and Emily glanced towards you, your eyes flicked to your half empty glass and you thought about it for a second.

“You may as well bring another one.”

“Heather okay with you drinking on the clock?” Emily asked with a small grin.

“Have you met a politician who doesn’t?” You laughed, “you know… I think that’s the biggest difference between our branches of government, you’re usually armed. The only weapons we carry are our words and nefarious blackmail.”

Emily chuckled at that, watching as you took a sip, “well I took a half day.” She turned to the server, “I’ll have a sauvignon blanc please.”

A few moments later they returned with Emily’s wine and the two of you placed an order for a round of appetizers consisting of scallops, beet and burrata, calamari and the bread service. Conversation flowed easily enough, chatting here and there about the day, how the weather seemed to finally be warm enough to enjoy being outside, little tidbits about work. Emily found joy in the fact that you could keep up with her when she mentioned work, that it didn’t take an extra three tangents of explaining details for you to understand what she meant. By the time the food came out, the two of you were fully comfortable around each other and after a bite of a scallop, you decided to make the jump to attempt to get to the point.

“So, I know I’ve heard that the BAU’s in a bit of hot water right now, but I didn’t think you needed a full PR takeover. Don’t you have your own communications team for those kind of things?”

Emily stalled, quickly popping a piece of calamari into her mouth to spare her a few seconds to figure out how to start things. “Uhm….” She swallowed the food down, chuckling awkwardly, “that’s not exactly why I wanted to meet. Heather… recommended you for something else.”

“Ah…” You leant back against the booth, your elbow draping over the back of it, “I knew Heather had ulterior motives about today but I didn’t realize she was passing me off to utilize the extra skill set.” You chuckled, having now figured out exactly what Emily was alluding to, but you weren’t going to let her off that easy, you wanted to hear her say it. The corner of your lips twitched up at the way she tensed across the table from you and you went in with another tease and false lead. “You want to know what other PR teams I’m close with, whose assistants have loose lips or an axe to grind, dig up a little dirt on someone. Director Bailey? AG? Who’s the thorn in your side, hmm?”

The knot in her stomach burst at the latter part of your sentence, suddenly distracted she glanced up at you with a furrowed brow, “wait, you could really get in with the AG for me?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded over a sip of wine, “she thinks she’s a good friend, would you like me to do some nosing around?”

“No, no.” She waved you off, “that could get you in trouble.”

“Emily, believe me, with most of them all you need is a few too many glasses of wine, a little flattery, maybe a hint of an illegal substance and they’ll tell you whatever you want.”

She let out a low laugh, “I’m going to ignore that last part.” You chuckled as she picked up her wine, taking another sip while you scooped up another scallop. “You certainly have some kind of pedigree, don’t you?”

“I had a lot of ladders to climb to get where I am now, and a decent education and quick thinking always helps.”

“Was PR always the goal, or did you have your eye on Capitol Hill?” She asked and you nearly snorted.

“Where I am is where I want to be. Communications Major at UCONN, followed by a stint at Georgetown.”

“What does a ‘stint’ consist of?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Just a little law degree, never really intended to use it just wanted the knowledge.”

“Did you write the bar?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, taking another sip of wine, “passed with flying colours. Just never really saw myself as a lawyer, fighting in courtrooms isn’t my style.”

“So why bother with the extra three years then?”

You shrugged, “Heather paid for it. Said if I was overqualified for a role I could bargain for better pay.”

“Wow…” Emily’s eyes widened, “she must really like you.”

“We’ve known each other a long time. She always knew she wanted me working for her in some capacity and she needed someone who she could trust, someone who was going to know what they were doing and was right for the field. When you work for Dunbar you have to fit the brand. Now making sure that brand is upheld is my job, she had to start with someone.”

“You enjoy working for her? She’s a good boss?”

“Are you kidding me?” You laughed, “being on her payroll is better than any other politician in the country, maybe even the world. She has a much higher level of expectations that always need to be met, she knows quality, she knows class and she demands it out of everyone. So she supplements with extras to make sure we know how appreciated we are and to keep us loyal.”

“Sounds like she knows what she’s doing.”

“She always does.” You leant forward, bracing your elbow on the table so your chin could rest in the palm of your hand, “which is why I know whatever she suggested I help you with is exactly what you need. But I’m starting to feel like I have to sign an NDA to even have this conversation.”

Emily sucked in a deep breath letting out a sigh before reaching for her wine glass, “well… I am hoping for a certain level of discretion and the previous couple of times I’ve tried this it didn’t exactly work in my favour.” She glanced back across the table to find your head still perched on your hand, eyes full of curiosity as you looked back at her and she nearly gulped.

“Do tell… what is it you want from me Agent Prentiss?” Your voice was lowered, both an attempt to get her to own up and to make sure you weren’t overheard, “I work in PR, I know how to uphold an image and believe me, I know how to keep a secret.”

She swallowed down a gulp of wine before slowly beginning to speak, “I’m… looking for someone who is willing to spend a night or two a week together, could be friendly company, could be more if you’re comfortable. And I’m willing to pay.” She winced, suddenly stopping herself, “wait, that sounded bad.”

You chuckled softly, smiling across the table at her to urge her to continue.

“Basically, I’ve got a bit of spare time and extra finances. I need someone who understands I can’t always be around, that work can and will upend plans constantly and suddenly. Someone who values privacy. I don’t have time to do the whole dating thing, the strings that come along with that.”

“Casual intimacy in exchange for fancy dinners, pricey jewels and lavish vacations?” You murmured softly, your head tilting in her direction and she nodded, “well… now we’re finally on the same page.”

“And you’re comfortable with that?”

Your eyes slowly raked over her, taking in her beauty, a small grin on your lips as you nodded, “Mmhm.”

“And the stipulations that come along with my work?”

“Not an issue. As you know, I have my own career and working for Heather can be a twenty four seven, seven days a week job and similar to yours, it includes a lot of travel. Discretion is easily attainable and I know how to uphold a certain image.”

“Good.” She let out a low huff of a laugh, “the last couple of dates I went on before this were garbage.”

“Mmm… I think you likely got caught with the ‘professional’ babies… they don’t want to work; they just want to get paid for being hot.” You rolled your eyes, “they don’t care about careers, they want to be center of attention at all times.”

“And lord knows I don’t have the time or patience for any of that.”

Before you could reply your phone began a series of buzzes on the table top, your eyes flicking to the lit screen and you sighed, “hold on, it’s Heather.” You picked up the device to swipe open the text chain, half muttering to yourself, “bitch said I could work from home today but god knows I can’t go twenty four hours without having to put out a fire.”

“Duty calls?” Emily asked with a near grin, watching as you finished your wine.

“Unfortunately.” You cast a smile in her direction, “and right as we were getting to the good part, sorry.”

“No apology necessary, go. I’ll take care of this.” She gestured to the table.

“Are you sure?”

“All things considered; I think it’s my responsibility.”

“Right.” You laughed softly, popping your phone back into your purse as you slid out of the booth, “you have my number?”

“I do.” She nodded, “I’ll make a reservation for next Friday, we can do dinner and discuss this further?”

“Of course.” You smiled at her, “I’ll see you Friday Emily.”

_______________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #decadent desires #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds fanfic

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dragon-kazansky · 2 days

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Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Six - Splendid

♡♡♡

"Eloise Bridgerton."

Benedict calls his sister when he finds her smoking on the swing set in their garden. He sounded stern, as if scolding her.

Eloise groans softly as she turns on the swing. "Go on, then." She lifts the cigarette to her lips. "Chastise me."

"Spare one for me?" He asks.

Eloise is surprised by his question. He comes and sits on the other swing beside her. She holds a cigarette out to him, and he takes it, putting it between his lips and lighting it.

"Suppose I desire something different." Eloise says.

"How do you mean?"

"Just different. I watch Daphne prepare for these balls with all of those dresses and the many suitors, and I am exhausted. Suppose I want a different life, Benedict. That I truly believe I am quite capable of something more, even when I'm not allowed to have anything else."

"Then I would say... that you're not the only one." He looks at her. They smile at each other.

♡♡♡

With the next edition of Whistledown comes fascinating gossip. You find yourself, for once, clutching the paper with the need to read more.

It has become apparent that Lord Berbrooke has a child out of wedlock, and not only that, with a maid he had sent away before the child was even born. He pays nothing for the child, it seems.

Your mother had been gossiping about with the other ladies she had over for afternoon tea. In turn, their maids had gone off to gossip further.

Word spread like wildfire.

The next day, Lord Berbrooke had left town suddenly.

You made it a point to go visit Daphne. You were taken up to the drawing room where she awaited you, a smile on her face as you came in.

"It's nice of you to visit."

You take a seat with her. "I wanted to see how you were."

"I have expected you come see my brother," she admits.

"Benedict? As much as he has become my friend, I felt the need to come see you. Are you alright?"

"I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders." She smiles softly. "I am glad he is gone."

"As am I. Wretched man, he was."

You both giggle softly.

"So, the duke? He is still on your favour?" You ask.

Daphne goes silent for a moment, and then her face twitches. A realisation. The realisation she must still pretend.

"Ah, yes." She smiles.

You smile in return and take her hand. "You make a most handsome couple."

"Thank you." Her voice wavers.

You do not bring up Hastings or Berbrooke again as you have tea with Daphne. The conversation becomes pleasant. Daphne finds herself talking to you about anything that comes to mind. Not once has any of her siblings sat down and listened to her like this.

It felt nice. Really nice.

An hour passes, and you find the teapot has been emptied twice in that time. There are no more biscuits to share either. You rise from the soft sofa and gather you purse.

"Thank you for letting me visit."

"Oh, nonsense. You are always welcome." Daphne smiles.

"I shall visit again then."

Daphne looks pleased by your words.

"Benedict will be so disappointed you came by and didn't stop to see him."

You chuckle. "Let him suffer. It may humble him."

Daphne chuckles and sees you out.

♡♡♡

The next ball is as dazzling as the others. You swear with each one, Daphne gets more and more beautiful. She enters with the Duke. Of course, everyone sees.

You entered with your mother, no one paying you any mind what so ever. Not that you minded any more. You had come to terms that no one would visit you.

As Simon and Daphne dance, you decide to take a walk. You have no idea what it is they discuss when alone together.

You keep your eyes peeled for any familiar faces. Yet, no one else is present in this current room.

Meanwhile, Daphne parts from Simon and is approached by another gentleman. Her wish to find a husband and have a family may very well come true.

As you enter the next room, you find Anthony in there talking with some others. His gaze lands on you, and he excuses himself from the current conversation. He approaches you.

You smile and bow your head. "Lord Bridgerton."

"Anthony, please. You call my brothers by their name."

You smile. "Anthony."

"Benedict isn't here, I'm afraid. He has elected to sit this one out. May I have the honour?" He holds out his hand.

You take a moment to take in his request. Anthony was head of his family. A viscount. Dancing with him would surely bring you attention.

You place your hand in his. "You may."

Anthony takes you back into the other room and leads you to the dance floor. He holds you as a gentleman should while dancing with a lady. You both move with the music.

Anthony look very firm as he dances with you.

"I must say, this is an honour."

"Is it?" He asks.

"I never see you dance."

"No. I suppose not. I am not beyond dancing with friends." He says kindly.

"Then I am even more so honoured to be considered such."

You both continue dancing until the music ends. You curtsy, he bows. Anthony takes your hand and leads you back to the side of the room. With swift ease, he marks his name down on your dance card.

"I shall see to it you are never left without a dance partner, my lady," he says with a bow.

You smile.

As Anthony returns to the party, you find yourself now being looked at by others. There are gentlemen looking your way.

Could it be true that Daphne is not the only one who can shine?

Soon, you are dancing again, and a few more names are scribbled across your dance card.

You think, perhaps, Daphne Bridgerton is your good luck charm.

It makes you giddy.

Safe to say, your night was splendid indeed.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 21 hours

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Hi raven, I’ve loved your intricate and deep analysis of the twst cast for the past 2 years to the point where I’m surprised you have characters you don’t really care about! (Not that that’s bad thing!) Now with the introduction of new characters (cough, cough Rollo), I’d love to see how you rank the twst characters again 👀

Thank you very much—but I think there’s an important distinction to be made!!

Knowing a lot about a character, analyzing them, and thinking that they have interesting writing does not always equate to “I like this character”. This is definitely the case for me; I try to compartmentalize my objective opinion from how I subjectively view each character. There’s certainly characters I dislike on a personal level, but I continue discussing them because they still provide value and nuance to their world and story! (You can see that I don’t like Malleus at all but I am still capable of thinking critically about his loneliness and how his resistance to change informs his actions.) For the sake of analysis, I can mostly put aside my own feelings 😂

A character could be the most kind and/or complex individual ever and someone could still dislike them for a reason as innocuous as not vibing with their tropes or even their physical design. (For example, I dislike Vil’s dad not because I think he’s a bad parent; Eric Venue is one of the best parents in the whole game. I simply dislike him because I have a bias against celebrity characters.) And that’s okay!! Everyone’s tastes are different. People should be allowed to dislike whatever they want for whatever reason they want.

I wasn’t able to find a TWST character tier list that included all the NPCs, so… I typed in as many other significant characters as I could recall for the tier I slot them in. I hope that works ^^

I think the only big changes here are Idia and Rook; Idia has gone higher up (no doubt thanks to all the family drama he’s been in lately) and Rook has dropped down (he has, sadly, been displaced by another pseudo-French man). I also tried to segment my “likes” into “lesser liked” and “more liked” tiers, otherwise there would be a ton of people crammed into the blanket term of “like”. Malleus is… in a tier of his own…

There’s my updated tier list for ya! ^^ Let me know if I missed anything~

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 8 hours

Text

The Witch's Bodyguard

(3) I'm Bad At Love

Actress!Wanda Maximoff x Bodygaurd!Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda wants to know about your past

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: This is a hurt/comfort. Mentions of R's past relationship, abandonment issues

A/N: Wanda and R took over completely I did nothing it was all them

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop @rroyale-109 @wandanat01 @scarlizziee @nixxnsworld

@snoozingredpanda @wandamaximoff-simp @mrsromanovaa @sweet--escape17

@natashamaximoff-69 @godhatesgoodgirls @kristalag @mfd-101

It's a almost a month into your job as her security guard when she finally asks, "Can I ask you something?" You look up from the book in your hand.

"You can ask me anything Ma'am." You respond, setting the book down and giving her your attention.

"When you signed the contract you corrected one of my lawyers about you being Miss. and not Mrs. Were you married before?" You feel your chest tighten at the question. It certainly wasn't the question you were expecting.

You feel your chest tighten at the question, a rush of memories flooding your mind like a relentless tide. It wasn't a topic you were used to discussing, let alone with someone like Wanda, but her gentle curiosity urges you to open up, if only for a moment.

"I was," you respond, your voice flat, devoid of the usual stoicism.

Wanda's expression softens, her eyes reflecting a mixture of sympathy and understanding. "Is it okay to ask about it? I don't want to overstep," she speaks delicately, her concern palpable.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, the weight of the past pressing down upon you. "It's not by any means a good story," you admit, your gaze flickering away from hers. "But if you want to hear it..."

Her unwavering gaze prompts you to continue, despite the reluctance gnawing at your insides. "We were high school sweethearts. Dated all four years, and when we turned 18, she wanted to get married. So we just went to city hall and did the paper thing. Said we'd do a big wedding when I was done with my tours."

You pause, the memories threatening to overwhelm you. "She was always so supportive, but when I came back from my last tour, things were different. Turns out she wasn't okay with waiting anymore, and I was in no condition from my last tour to do anything like a wedding. Came home ready to tell her about Val and the job opportunity, but she was gone... ten years, and she left me with a note."

The words hang heavy in the air, a tangible reminder of the pain you've carried with you for so long. Without realizing it, tears begin to blur your vision, a silent testament to the wounds that still haven't fully healed.

Before you can retreat into the walls you've built around yourself, Wanda is suddenly there, her arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. She's practically in your lap, her presence a warm anchor amidst the storm of emotions threatening to consume you.

Wanda's words wash over you like a soothing balm, her empathy a comforting presence in the midst of your turmoil. You're taken aback by the raw emotion in her voice, the sincerity evident in every syllable. It's a side of her you hadn't seen before, one that speaks to the depth of her compassion and understanding.

"I am so sorry, Y/N. You didn't deserve that. No one deserves that," she says, her voice trembling with emotion. "She could have at least waited and said it to your face."

Her words strike a chord deep within you, stirring emotions you've long since buried beneath layers of stoicism. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you allow yourself to be vulnerable, to acknowledge the pain that still lingers beneath the surface.

In a moment of uncharacteristic vulnerability, you find yourself pulling Wanda closer, your arms wrapping around her waist as she settles onto your lap. She allows your tears to fall freely, offering silent solace in the embrace of your shared grief.

For a fleeting moment, the roles are reversed, and you find yourself seeking comfort in the arms of the woman you've sworn to protect. It feels oddly liberating, this unspoken exchange of support and understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that binds you together.

As Wanda's comforting touch soothes the ache in your heart, time seems to blur into a haze of shared sorrow and quiet understanding. Minutes stretch into hours, the only constant the gentle rhythm of her hand rubbing circles on your back.

You try to apologize for your outburst, but Wanda cuts you off with a determined look, her hand cupping your face with a surprising tenderness. "Stop. You have nothing to be sorry about," she insists, her voice filled with conviction. "She broke your heart, turned your whole world upside down, and she just got to walk away like it never mattered. I don't know how she could have done that to you."

Her words strike a chord deep within you, stirring a sense of righteous anger at the injustice of it all. You find yourself lost in the depths of her gaze, her eyes reflecting a fire that matches the intensity of your own emotions.

Unable to resist the magnetic pull between you, you nod in silent agreement, a sense of solidarity forming between you like an unbreakable bond. When Wanda smiles at your acquiescence, your stomach flips with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.

She's so close to you now, her warmth seeping into your very soul, and you can't help but notice how beautiful she looks in the flickering firelight. The urge to lean in and kiss her is almost overwhelming, a primal instinct that refuses to be ignored.

Your hands, which had loosened from their earlier grip, now find purchase on her hips, fingers curling around the curves of her body as if seeking reassurance in her proximity. The air between you crackles with tension, thick with unspoken desires and unexplored possibilities.

In that moment, with her so close and your heart pounding in your chest, you realize that perhaps, there's more to this connection than meets the eye.

As Wanda's gaze flickers downward to your lips, you feel a surge of desire coursing through your veins, a primal instinct urging you to close the distance between you. Her hesitation is palpable, but the hunger in her eyes speaks volumes, mirroring the raw intensity of your own longing.

You catch the subtle movement of her tongue darting out to wet her lips, a gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. The temptation to lean in and taste her is almost overwhelming, a magnetic pull that refuses to be denied.

But even as your instincts scream for release, you can't shake the nagging voice of reason at the back of your mind. You know the boundaries that shouldn't be crossed, the consequences that could come from succumbing to this forbidden desire.

And yet, in the heat of the moment, with her so close and the fire of passion burning bright between you, those concerns seem distant and inconsequential. All you can think about is the taste of her lips, the feel of her body pressed against yours, the sweet surrender of giving in to this undeniable attraction.

But as you gaze into her eyes, you realize that perhaps, just perhaps, this moment is meant to be savored, not rushed. And so, with a silent vow to honor the boundaries that keep you apart, you lean back just slightly, allowing the space between you to linger like a promise unfulfilled.

In that moment, with the fire still burning bright and the night stretching out before you, you find solace in the unspoken understanding that this desire, though powerful, is something to be cherished, not consumed.

"It's late, we should get to bed," you finally break the silence, the words feeling heavy on your tongue as you try to push aside the swirling emotions that threaten to consume you.

Wanda's pout is unmistakable, her disappointment evident in the downturn of her lips. For a fleeting moment, you're tempted to give in to the urge to stay, to lose yourself in the intoxicating allure of her presence.

But the weight of responsibility bears down upon you, a reminder of the boundaries that must be upheld, even in the face of temptation. You can't risk crossing that line, not when the consequences could be so devastating.

Wanda gets off of your lap, pout still adorning her face and its hard to ignore as the two of you make your way to her room, making sure she gets there safely. As she goes to enter her bedroom your hand grabs for her wrist. The action catches both of you off guard as your body moves on instinct, pulling her back into you, holding her against your chest. As you pull back you lean down giving a peck to her cheek.

“Thank you for everything tonight. It was something I needed.” Wanda’s face was flushed when you pulled back, making you smirk. “I’ll see you in the morning Ma’am.” You turned around, letting her go as you walked down the hall to your room. Maybe one day you’d be able to give yourself to her, but not tonight.

#ley speaks #ley writes #ley writes series #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wan #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #twb #the wit #the witch's bodyguard

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 day

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Resubmitting because I think this got eaten by the inbox. Apologies if it was passed over intentionally!

🐝🐝🐝🐝 <- Bees of recognition!

WIBTA for moving out of my parents’ house?

I’ve [22NB] always had issues with my parents, and at this point in my life I am getting old enough (and exposed enough to outside ideas) that I think they may have been or are still somewhat mentally abusive. Regardless, I know and believe that they truly do love me and care about me very, very deeply. I know the way they treat me is flawed, but at their roots they genuinely care about me and believe they have good intentions.

Most recently, we’ve been talking about me wanting to move out. I will be graduating with my bachelor’s degree this semester and starting a one-year master’s degree program this fall. My parents have paid for my school expenses throughout my undergraduate degree. Regardless of whether I move out or stay with them, my parents will not be paying for my graduate degree. My partner [22M] of three and a half years is planning to propose to me soon and we are planning for me to move in with him this summer. I’ve done the math and extensively planned my budget to model my financial outlook. I am well within the range to safely give up my parents’ financial support and still have a significant “cushion” of savings built up. The model’s annual totals could be off by a few thousand dollars and still be safe and healthy for me to move out.

My parents are extremely opposed to this idea. I have talked about moving out before (as in over the past few years) and their main argument has always been that I wasn’t financially ready (they were correct at the time). This most recent discussion is different. They are incessant in telling me that if I do this, because my partner and I are not yet married, we will be “living in sin” and I should “consider the weight on your soul of throwing yourself away.” Dad especially argued it is his job to “use whatever I can to get you to make the right decision.” He said he will be looking into taking me off of their health insurance policy and that I would not be allowed to take any of my furniture that was previously promised to me for when I inevitably move out someday, and even insinuated I may not be able to take my clothes (essentially, any item they paid for). I did not tell them this, but even if he follows through on that, I am still financially able to move out. It would be significantly more difficult of course, but I could still do it safely. My mom seemed shocked and upset at him suggesting this so she may “talk him down” at some point, but it is unlikely to have an effect on the outcome. My parents follow a very traditional approach to the “family hierarchy,” in that Dad gets the final definitive vote on all family matters. His explanation he has repeated for years is he. “takes everyone’s thoughts and feelings into consideration, but [he gets] 51% of the vote.” Despite this, I highly suspect Dad was speaking before considering the impact of his “ideas” and it is unlikely he will follow through on them. Mom has mentioned that she and Dad want to meet with the local priest to discuss the situation. She says she hopes he can help Dad understand the balance between healthy guidance and severely damaging his relationship with me as parent and child.

I have tried to gently and calmly (but firmly) explain that I simply disagree that it is a morally incorrect decision to live together before marriage and that I don’t fully believe in the Catholic church. Dad almost completely ignored the statement saying, “Right, you can’t just throw your soul away. What if you move in and you’re living in sin, and something happens and you die? What then?” Mom just started crying. She was inconsolable until I walked my statement back to a matter of just “questioning” my faith rather than not aligning with Catholicism.

They offered to allow me to spend the night at my partner’s place once a week if I were to remain living with them through my graduate degree and/or until my partner and I are married, whichever comes latest. I asked if they were sure they would be comfortable with that situation. We have had arrangements similar to it before. Every time we have, it ended with them having grown resentful and that feeling festering until it exploded in a massive argument between all of us. They insisted it would be fine and that it was vastly preferable over me “fully committing to a life of sin.”

I still want to move out. For a whole host of other reasons too long for this already long submission, I feel it is not healthy for me to continue to stay with them longer than I already have. If I am financially unable to move out or it would otherwise be a bad idea logistically, I could handle another year. Staying longer would almost certainly affect my mental and emotional health but I understand you have to do what you have to do. I feel deeply, horribly guilty for wanting to do this despite their beliefs and advice. I feel like I would be hurting them so much and I don’t want to destroy our relationship.

So, WIBTA if I went against my parents’ wishes and moved out of their house to live with my partner?

#aita #am i the asshole

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amalthiaph · 2 days

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✨ EDMON RAMPART (Amalthia's Version) ✨ You know I once swore to never draw him, well that was of course before he got the James Norrington treatment so it's the Alexsandr Kallus Effect for me again. Talk about from fuck this man to I wanna fuck this man.

Teeny weeny fandom salt and salt in general coming up so if you don't like that, you can go scroll down. There used to be a cut here but I removed it. I will always be polite, but I know WHEN to talk.

From now on, I will be calling my fanart "Amalthia's version". I hope I don't come across as tone deaf or insensitive about this, but I wish I was good at art.

I've seen posts that say "I wish artists would stop drawing [character name] with [this] or [that]" or "stop drawing [character] with [this]". While it's great to hear about your preferences, please bear in mind that at the end of the day, fanart CAN BE an artist's take on a character. For me, THIS is how I draw Edmon Rampart. This is with regard to the art style I developed and the color palette that I constantly use to keep up with my blog's theme.

Another ick is an ongoing issue in the TBB fandom. In my Hunter and Omega art, I did something I don't usually do, which is add a secondary light source. A few minutes after posting, I got an anon telling me to unwhitewash the characters. I immediately messaged one of my friends for their honest opinion and they said I don't whitewash the characters. I went on to the drawing file and tried to study my own drawing and see if I really did whitewashed the characters. Edit: There really are some artists who whitewash the characters and I was trying to do a SELF-CHECK bec maybe I'm one of them.

I found out that the thing that made the difference is the secondary light source that I added. This secondary light source is lighter in color than their skin, and it created the Contrast Effect. Due to the nature of the human eye and visual processing by the brain, there's an optical illusion that the same color will look different depending on the color beside it and/or the background. It's in psychology class, paying attention would help.

In addition to the secondary light, it could also be the brown background color that caused this effect. And before anyone goes, "are you sure?" Yes, I am. I sat with a Psychology major to discuss about this whole Contract Effect thing.

This does not only apply in colors, it could also be to objects, that why they say all things are relative. One thing could appear bigger or smaller depending upon the object beside it. One of the things they 'check' to see if a certain artist whitewashed a character is the size of the nose. Once again, please do apply Contrast Effect. Some artist really draw their characters stick-like so try to compare all the noses they had drawn in their entire lifetimes and maybe, just maybe they did draw the noses wide in comparison to their other artworks, it just looks like that because it's part of their art style.

Edit: Please do try to analyze things first before casting down your judgement.

It's so difficult to be an artist AND IN THIS FANDOM. We never seem to be enough. If we do the character with artistic freedom, you'll say "stop drawing them like that bec they don't have that in the show" and when we try to draw them as close to the show, you'll say "unwhitewash the characters". We are never good enough for you.

So yeah, I wish I was good at this.

Link to the rest of this series:

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15

#i'm gonna add this tag: AMALTHIA IS ANGRY #the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch s3 #tbb s3 spoilers #tbb rampart #edmon rampart #yeah i'm not tagging vice admiral rampart #HE'S BEEN DEMOTED #tbb #star wars #small artist #artists on tumblr #amalthiaph #the bad batch actors au

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sulkybender · 3 days

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for a moment the world turns gold

or: a fanfic I am posting on Tumblr for some reason

tags: time travel loop as metaphor for growing up abused, canon-typical child abuse, Zuko needs a hug, Zuko needs a boat, hurt/comfort, hurt Zuko

The first time he wakes up with his old face he thinks it was all a dream, everything that came before. It was a nightmare about the way things could have gone, and a warning, and Zuko takes it to heart.

In the war room he says nothing, and when it ends his father pulls him aside.

His silence, Ozai says, was weakness.

And then he burns Zuko’s face.

—

The next time he wakes up, he feels at his face, gasping. It’s all clean skin, good skin. And he speaks with authority at the war meeting, and his father pulls him aside.

He had no right to speak, Ozai says. He is a child.

And Zuko burns.

—

When Zuko wakes up again he panics. He stays in bed for a long time, longer than he should, trying to breathe.

He remembers the feeling of his father’s hand covering his face, the heat and sting of it, then white-hot pain and then much less, as his nerves died.

And he shakes in bed, crying, and when his father drags him out and asks why he slept through the war meeting, Zuko can’t tell him the truth, because the truth is so much worse.

He didn’t sleep. He cowered.

And Ozai burns his face.

—

The next time he wakes up he goes to find his uncle, to ask for help.

He tries to stay calm, to sound like himself, even though he’s beginning to doubt he knows what that means anymore. He woke up this morning with a nervous tic, a tremor all down his leg.

“Please,” he says. “Please, Uncle. You have to help me. I can’t go to the war meeting.”

“Prince Zuko,” his uncle says. “Backing out of your duties only hours before is shameful behavior. You have made a commitment to the Fire Lord. And I put in my own word for you, you wanted so badly to attend.”

“Uncle,” he says, and his eyes burn so badly that he thinks it’s starting now. “Uncle, please.”

And he sits through the meeting, crying, and his father burns his face.

—

This time he pretends to be sick. He answers with the most wretched cough you can imagine when his uncle comes calling his name.

There’s the coolness of Uncle’s hand on his cheek, the softness of his disappointment. He knows, and shame is like ash in Zuko’s throat.

“Next time, perhaps,” his uncle says. “When you’re better.”

Yes, Zuko thinks, sick with relief. Yes, when he’s not the pathetic person he is now; when he’s braver, stronger, deserving of love. Better.

And his father drags him from bed by his hair, hissing about weakness, his weak and useless child.

Zuko doesn’t disagree.

And his father burns his face.

—

He speaks up again, because he knows what’s coming. His father tells him to rise and fight, and he rises, he fights.

The flood of fire he can’t break, seething, billowing in waves. For a moment the world turns gold. He could live in the heat of it forever.

The world is really very beautiful, even as it tries to dissolve you.

Then he feels the skin of his forearms blister and peel, and his father grabs his arms, twisting them. His vision goes white.

He falls to the ground, and burns.

—

He speaks up again, because he’s angry. He’s angry with his father; he’s angry with himself.

He’s trapped and he’s angry, and he hates what’s being done to these men, because it’s the eighth time he’s seen the generals discuss it openly and plainly, with such pleasure. And no one’s ever stood up for him, and someone should stand up for the people no one’s ever stood up for, and he knows, he knows, that if he’s forceful enough, compelling enough, his father will respect him.

What his father respects is strength. Zuko can be strong.

He speaks out, feeling the tremor in his leg, but it’s a tremor of excitement now, not just fear. He knows the right thing to do and he knows how to do it—the thing he’s never known, not just the force of his ideas but a shape—and he gives his speech with the kind of moral clarity that will make his father proud.

And his father burns his face.

—

The next time Zuko wakes up he stares at the ceiling for a very long time.

Then he goes down to the war room and his father burns his face.

—

The next days are like this, and the next.

—

After a while, waking up whole becomes more painful, almost, than being burned.

When he wakes up with his clean face, his good face. It means his suffering didn’t matter. He wants it to matter. If it has to happen, he needs it to matter.

He wakes up with his clean face, his mother’s face, and thinks she wouldn’t recognize the person he’s becoming.

—

The last time Zuko sits in the war room, he thinks he’s going to lose his mind. He thinks he already has. The flames behind the Fire Lord’s throne lick and curl, shifting colors, and for a moment Zuko is too dizzy to stand. He could fall into that gold again, the loveliness of the world as it eats you.

But he does stand. And he gives the speech, not because he wants to get it over with or because he thinks his father will love him if he just gets it right, but because he’s accepted his father will never love him. That whatever he does he will always be burned. In a thousand worlds, a thousand lifetimes, there is no outcome in which his father does not burn his face.

And as he thinks about this, small hands clenching in his robes, he tries to imagine what it would be like to be his own person for the first time—not his father’s tool, not his sister’s.

“I’m not afraid,” he tells the generals, his father. “Whatever you do to me I’m not afraid.”

And he wakes up on a boat, face singing with pain, and his uncle holding his hand.

#atla #zuko #iroh #ozai #fanfic #atla fanfic #time loop as metaphor #finding meaning in suffering

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gravedigginbbydoll · 2 days

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Hawkins University : The Munson Edition

AN: Hey, y'all. So we're almost done! This is the last chapter before an epilogue! I'll be sad to see this one go but I'm glad that it happened. Pls remember that reblogs and comments are appreciated! Also feedback!

→ cliches: friends to lovers, heavy use of nicknames instead of Y/N, we're all just struggling college kids, Music Tutor! Eddie, Resident Assistant! Reader, good girl x bad boy, instant connections, 'I don't trust most people but I trust you', 'are we friends or more?', and 'I can't believe you're such a slut that you have a special dtf drawer...'

→ warnings: mature topics, insecurity, hurt and comfort, drinking and drug usage, strong language, bullying, mental health, discussion of suicide and self harm, mature thoughts, eventual smut, minors dni

→ pairing: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

Chapter 10

Eddie's POV

Eddie was on cloud nine. He had the girl of his dreams, was finally happy in his major and passing his classes, and Corroded Coffin was steadily on the rise.

Steve wouldn’t let him live it down, teasing him about the lovesick grin he had and how he ‘felt’ in his gut that you and Eddie would get together.

Eddie felt a bit saddened by the fact that you had gotten together before finals, so you weren’t able to sleep over as much or go on a date yet. Eddie couldn’t wait to take you out and treat you. You were his girl now.

But he also couldn’t shake this feeling. You were texting him still, sure, but you had seemed to be avoiding him even after finals, claiming that your job had you absolutely booked.

Eddie couldn’t help but feel like maybe you were avoiding him now after sleeping together. Maybe you regretted being with him. Maybe you faked it? He couldn’t stop anxiously questioning if you still wanted to be with him.

Eddie would not admit it aloud, but he was slowly falling for you.

He knew how you drank your coffee, or how you loved playing with his hair. He knew how nervous you got in new spaces, and how you laughed. He wanted to learn more. He wanted to carve memories of you into his brain, wanted to have the imprint of your figure in his mattress, have your touch burned into his skin.

He kept pushing off the idea of falling for you. He knew he was on the edge of the cliff, teetering on letting go. But goddamnit, if he wasn’t afraid. Eddie knew himself. When he fell, it was hard and fast.

It was fully consuming.

He was scared to let go and have you disappear, just like so many people in his life. Or worse, have you become disgusted with the intricacies of him. You knew so much, but Eddie still guarded parts of his heart.

Which was why he was staring at his phone, awaiting your text back, when he asked if you could head out to dinner after your shift.

Your reply stung.

Sorry, not this time Eds, I’ve got to help my coworker with her on-call.

Eddie, in a flurry of hurt and bitterness, almost texted back ‘Then when?’. He stopped himself before.

He’d somehow fucked it up.

He knew it.

“Am I an idiot, Kurt?,” Eddie questioned the stray cat currently chowing down on his porch. Eddie had started feeding the cat when he noticed him digging through the apartment trash, feeling a tug at his heart. He’d always loved animals, knowing they wouldn’t judge him, even if he was a burnout. Kurt meowed at Eddie, chubby tomcat cheeks making Eddie chuckle a bit. Eddie took a drag from his cigarette, careful to aim it away from Kurt, who resumed chowing down. He only looked up when he heard a commotion from the parking lot, seeing Robin and Steve scramble over to the porch, both of them calling Eddie’s name.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay, okay…What’s the big deal, Beavis and Butthead?,” Eddie teased, still trying to calm his nerves. Steve and Robin as a pair usually were a bit over dramatic about things (even for Eddie, who often dramatized most things.)

Robin stopped, her hands on her knees as she tried to regulate her breathing, wheezing. Steve was a bit better off, sighing before going into what was going on.

“Some account tried to follow Rob and I and we were like no, but we were curious because the account follows Corroded Coffin. And Robin and I were talking about how Bug has kinda been AWOL, and avoiding us. And so we were wondering if maybe there was something she wasn’t telling us about, so we went to look at the account, and it’s some troll posting super mean shit about Bug and calling her names just because she’s dating you, and-”

Eddie saw red at the mention. If there was one thing the Munson boy had little to no patience for, it was bullies. He felt his stomach twist at the thought of you dealing with the hate all alone, trying to push people away so as to keep from bothering them. His jaw clenched, his fists flexing and clenching, trying to soothe the anger he felt.

“What’s the account?,” Eddie asked calmly, controlling his tone and temper, jaw set.

Steve blinked a bit, shocked by Eddie’s tone but also seeming a bit fearful. “Uh, it’s something like the exterminator? Here,” Steve handed over his phone, showing the Instagram account.

Eddie scrolled through the account, the posts getting more aggressive as the account owner seemed to take candids of you, and post them. The words were cutting, and just…

Eddie felt his hands shake as he handed back the phone, anger running through him, a slow simmering boil. He walked inside, Steve and Robin following in confusion before Robin finally broke the tense silence.

“Eddie, what’re you-”

Eddie spun around, eyes rimmed red, hands shaking as he clenched his fists. “I’m fixing it.”

Eddie pulled out his phone, calling the one person he knew could get down to the bottom of this.

“Henderson…I need you to ask Susie for a favor.”

Eddie was lucky that Steve had introduced him to Dustin Henderson. Dustin looked up to Eddie, and his little group of friends had somehow stuck to Eddie like old gum on his shoe. But maybe a bit more endearing.

Dustin’s girlfriend, Susie, was a tech nerd and genius, and somehow knew how to trace or hack most things.

Which was exactly what she did.

She traced the Instagram account down to an email, discovering what the email was a backup for, and informed Eddie.

Tammy Dreser. A member of the Hawkins Cheer team, and a close friend to Chrissy Cunningham. Both of them were part of the same sorority.

Which led Eddie here. In front of the sorority house on his bike, his face both angry and determined. He swung his leg off his bike, heading up to the door to knock loudly, met with Chrissy Cunningham’s surprised expression.

“Eddie, what are you-”

Eddie pushed past her into the house carefully, turning to her.

“We need to talk.”

Chrissy blinked a bit before closing the door, sighing. “Okay…What about?,” She questioned, crossing her arms, eyebrows furrowed.

“This,” Eddie said pointedly, shoving a phone in Chrissy’s face, the device already showing the account, Chrissy squinting to see the account and frowning.

“What? Eddie, I don’t know what this is.”

“Tammy made it. I have…sources… who connected it to her email. And I don’t take kindly to people mistreating my girl,” Eddie stated, his tone teetering on a growl.

Chrissy frowned, eyebrows furrowed. She bit her lip and gestured for Eddie to follow her to the kitchen, sitting down at the table.

“Let me call Tammy. We can talk this out,” Chrissy sighed, dialing away on her phone.

Eddie sat there, leg shaking in the hyper feminized kitchen, a frown practically etched on his face as Taffy entered, her blue eyes widening and cheeks turning red as she saw Eddie. She was quick to fix her hair and smile, putting out a perfectly manicured hand for him to shake.

“Eddie, right? I’m Tammy,” She said, tone bubbly as ever.

Eddie nodded, not returning the handshake. He was trying to keep his cool, and not explode on this petite brunette.

Chrissy cleared her throat. “Well, Tammy, it seems there has been an acc-”

Eddie can’t take tiptoeing around the subject, so he interjects. “I found an account cyberbullying my girlfriend. Connected to your email. Care to explain?,” Eddie grinned sarcastically, lifting his brows.

Tammy turned white as a ghost and started laughing, shaking her head. “I don’t…What? I don’t know-”

Eddie laughed humorlessly and shook his head. “Don’t bullshit me. Fess up, Tammy,” He said her name like an insult, making her cheeks flush red. He stared at her, her eyes wide and her shoulders caving in under his gaze. Eddie counted almost 5 minutes before she finally gave in.

“Fine! I made it. I was angry that Chrissy hooked up with you when I had a crush on you, and I wanted to make it look like she made the account,” She confessed, flustered and upset.

Chrissy’s brow furrowed and she appeared hurt, mumbling to herself.

"You're the one who hacked my Instagram...I kept wondering why I couldn't log in and why my account seemed to be following more people."

Eddie's heart panged a little bit for the blonde, who despite her best intentions, had horrible friends and a tendency to be naive or absent minded. But he'd worry about it later. Eddie was too focused on Tammy. “Take. Down. The. Damn. Account,” He gritted out, every word making Tammy sink further into her chair as she nodded, appearing annoyed and embarrassed.

“Fine, Fine! I will!”

Eddie stood up and nodded at the two, heading to the door as he heard hushed arguing and felt waves of hurt come from the room.

“You deserve better friends, Cunningham,” Eddie called out as he left, too focused on his mission.

He had to get to you.

Eddie came into the building, making a beeline for your dorm. He knocked on your door frantically, hearing you scramble and run to the door, opening it a bit, just enough for you to poke your head out, your eyes rimmed red. Your brows furrowed as you looked up, a bit confused.

“Eds? What’re you doing-”

Eddie pushed himself inside the room, gentle but firm. You felt anxiety swirl in your belly at the disarrayed state of your room, the way you hadn’t had a good shower, stewing in your depression. Eddie’s stomach dropped as his heart ached.

You had been going through this alone?

Eddie frowned, his voice soft. “Baby…why didn’t you tell me?”

You felt your lip begin to tremble as your eyes stung, the sensation alerting you of the oncoming tears. You swallowed, trying to calm your shaking.

“I just…I didn’t want to bother you during finals, and honestly it wasn’t a big deal, I just-”

You felt your voice tremble, your vision beginning to blur. You shook a bit, feeling Eddie embrace you. You smelled his green apple shampoo and body wash, his warm vanilla and spice cologne…all below a soft lingering scent of cigarettes. You melted into his arms, sighing, tears still flowing.

Eddie sat you down on your bed, his heart squeezed at the sight of you so broken, and so lost. He kicked himself for not being able to see through your walls through text, and held you close. You sobbed into his shirt, shaking. Eddie rubbed your back, pressing his lips to your forehead, murmuring reassurances of ‘it’s okay’ and ‘i’ve got you’.

When your tears had stopped flowing, Eddie continued to hold you, rubbing your back softly. He felt the urge to talk to you, so he let himself speak without thinking.

“When I was in high school…I was extremely bullied. I was called a freak, viewed as an outcast. My mom had died and my dad was in prison. People knew Uncle Wayne and I lived in a trailer, and they didn’t let me live it down. When I came here, I thought I finally escaped it…Except… I didn’t. Jason was here. He was one of the people who bullied me extensively back home. He made my life a living hell. He posted shit about me, made flyers claiming I was a psychopath… it was…hell.”

Eddie swallowed, avoiding your gaze, trying to continue despite the sour memories.

“I was in a really dark place. I started doing harder drugs, drinking, and just…self harming any way I could. I was flunking, and lonely, as I was 20 years old and a freshman. I…I didn’t tell Steve about it. But he kind of…knew. And right as I was starting to get even worse, right as I considered ending it…Steve reached out. He supported me. He stood up for me while Jason was being a dick. And…a big part of me knows, if he never reached out…I wouldn’t be here.”

Eddie's throat felt thick, his hands shaking as he looked down at you, your red rimmed eyes looking at him in sorrow and worry. He grabbed your face, leaning his head down to press his forehead against yours.

“I don’t ever want you to feel that way, baby. Okay? I lo-, Eddie cuts himself off, swallowing, the word getting stuck in his throat.

“I care about you.”

You look up, sighing shakily and nodding, melting into his arms.

“I care about you too. I’m sorry.”

Eddie kissed you, trying to pour all of his feelings into the exchange, holding your face like you were fragile glass. He pulled away slowly, tugging you into his arms and just holding you that night, letting you melt into him.

He’d tell you soon.

But for that night...he just would be there for you.

Taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @kirisuteg0men @bebe07011 @amira0303 @vintagehellfire @lottie-90 @animechick555

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celluloidbroomcloset · 18 hours

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The more I think about it, the more I do wonder if some of the source of the more problematic ships/fan headcanons surrounding Izzy is based in the concept of love/sex as a reward for service or suffering. (Note: I am not at all saying that what follows is 100% correct - mostly just proposing a hypothesis. I'm riffing on @naranjapetrificada's post here, but I didn't want to go off on a treatise on someone else's post that wasn't even directly about this.)

Izzy’s world is upended with Stede’s appearance. He goes from being the trusted second in command to Blackbeard to being thrown off the ship (by his own making, already). All of his suffering (in his own mind) can be traced back to Stede and consequently Stede and Ed’s relationship. The narrative forms him as an antagonist not just to Stede but to the narrative's central concern, the entire reason for telling the story: the Stede/Ed relationship. He is the opposition of the healthy, happy, queer couple, and at each turn, he suffers for it.

In Season 2, his suffering is compounded to the point that he loses his leg in a really traumatic way, at the hands of a man he claims (in the same episode) to love. This leads into his being offered grace by the crew and the start of some shedding of his toxic masculinity (which has been the real enemy all along). And this is where I hypothesize that some fans start shaping him into someone who is now deserving of a reward. Izzy has changed! He’s grown! He’s doing better! Doesn't he *deserve* a reward for that?!

One of the forms that this reward must take is love/sex - and since the focal point of the entire show, as well as the causes of Izzy’s suffering, are Ed and Stede (the happy queer relationship) then his reward must be one or the other, or both. Having suffered and having come to better terms with his gender and sexual identity, he deserves the reward of romantic love and/or sex.

This is all, of course, not right, and the show never even hints that love or sex should be treated as a reward. Neither Ed nor Stede show any desire to provide Izzy with this reward (and honestly, I don’t think that Izzy the character expects that either, even if his fans might). But I do think that some of the anger and some of the “fix-it” mentality of the fandom subsection comes from the fact that Izzy’s character growth is not rewarded by romantic love or sex. (This ignores as well that he does find love in other ways, via his friendship with the crew, but this is also not typed as something he DESERVES or is rewarded for his good behavior.)

Stede in particular, I think, becomes a focus of the combined fan ire and desire because (in their minds) he was the original catalyst for Izzy’s suffering, he has obtained the reward of Ed’s love (thereby depriving Izzy of it), and he can be fitted for the enemies to lovers arc (plus he’s white and there’s undoubtedly racism at play here, as many have discussed). This might even be extended to Ed's love for Stede: that Ed was in some way rewarded for becoming better, that Stede's love healed him and therefore Izzy—who is so much more deserving, right?!—should also be offered that love.

Again, this is all based in toxic, erroneous assumptions both about the characters, about the show, and about love and sex, but all those assumptions have been made by stories in the past and are baked into a lot of mainstream culture.

The "fix-it" nature of ships like Stizzy and Steddyhands come down to some fans believing Izzy is not being granted his just rewards for his suffering and character growth in the form of love and sex specifically from the lead couple who have caused his suffering.

At least, that's what I think is going on.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #edward teach #not gonna tag the other guy right now #fandom critical

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