#it seems like she’d still want to take it in

[sweetestdesire]

BABY PICTURES

WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.

PAIRING(S): Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Jack Hughes’ mother shows Fem!Reader his baby pictures.

Jack was pouting. Which truthfully, Y/N didn’t think there were all that many moments where he wasn’t pouting, but he seemed to be pouting a little extra right now. Maybe she should feel bad, and maybe she should feel a little guilty that he’s sulking because of her, but then his mother flipped the page of the baby album in her hands, and she suddenly didn’t care as much about her petulant boyfriend anymore. 

“This is Jack after he scraped his knee for the first time.” Ellen giggled, pointing to tiny, red and teary-faced Jack staring up at the camera, making Y/N snort as she leaned closer for a better look. 

“He looks ridiculous.” Y/N laughed, and distantly, she could hear Jack gasp at the comment, crossing his arms and sending her a glare from across the living room. 

“I was in pain.” Jack huffed. “Extremely excruciating pain. And my mother stopped to take a picture my misfortune. Who does that?”

To his dismay, Y/N didn’t even spare him a glance, pointing to the next picture of the album and giggling away with his mother, whispering what he was sure was yet another mean and rude comment making fun of him. What kid didn’t fall and scrape their knee? And what kid didn’t cry when they fall and scrape their knee? Normal children shed tears in the face of extreme pain, and Jack Hughes was not an exception to this fact. In fact, he liked to think he was one of the braver children.

“Jack, you were such a crybaby growing up.” Ellen shook her head, amusement lacing her tone as Y/N chuckled and shot him a sly grin. 

“So nothing’s changed.” She hummed. “He’s still a crybaby now, too.”

“I am not.” Jack gasped. “Take that back, you liar.”

“And this is Jack on his first day of school.” Ellen hummed, cutting him off and pointing to a picture of a young Jack waving at the camera, missing what Y/N was sure was his entire front row of teeth. She grinned, letting out a small chuckle as her eyes softened at the image. 

Usually, Jack Hughes was a handful. He was loud and annoying and he talked far too much for his own good. He made her life increasingly difficult with the stubbornness he wore like a second skin, and he made her want to crawl into a hole half the time they were in public for all the scenes he seemed to always cause. But sometimes Jack Hughes was also very cute like in this photo for example, with chubby cheeks and a bright grin on his face as he stood in his school outfit. 

“Awe, Jack.” Y/N cooed, making him perk up a little at the sound. “How cute.”

“I was a cute kid, wasn’t I?” He grinned, and almost as though he was never pouting in the first place, his mood switched at the slightest bit of praise. She rolled her eyes, giving him a flat look as she eyed him while he walked over to her, flopping onto the space beside her and looking over her shoulder. 

“You were.” Y/N nodded, making a point to eye him up and down and raised an eyebrow. “I wonder what happened.”

Jack gasped, and the pout from earlier returned once more and she couldn’t say that she was surprised. “Rude, I’m still cute, you know.” He grumbled, and because he was Jack Hughes, the most annoying man she’d ever had the pleasure of encountering on the face of the planet, he poked her shoulder repeatedly. “Admit it, you still find me cute.” He whined. “You literally called me cute this morning.”

“That’s because you were sleeping.” Y/N shrugged. “You’re really cute when you shut up.”

“Yes, my favorite Jack was always a napping Jack growing up.” Ellen added from the side. 

“Mom.” He protested, watching as Y/N and his mother snickered together. He wondered how the both of them could claimed to love him when they treated him like this, wounding his pride and ego with every insult thrown his way. He crossed his arms, angling his body away from Y/N as she giggled and wrapped herself around him. 

“We’re just kidding, Jack.” Y/N grinned, reaching to pinch his cheek, chuckling when he swatted her hand away with a grunt. “You’re really the cutest.”

“You’re a liar.” He mumbled, shooting her a glare as she fought back an amused smile. “You said you loved me, but clearly you lied to me.”

“I do love you.” Y/N insisted. “And I love your baby pictures, too.”

Usually, Jack felt his heart soften when he watched Y/N and his mother get along. He thought he fell in love with her just a little harder every time he watched her eyes light up when she saw the women who raised him. But sometimes, he wished he never introduced her to his mother. He was almost certain she preferred spending time with his mother over him, and he was even more certain his mother wished Y/N was were the one she raised instead. He almost felt like the third wheel half the time he brought her over and he couldn’t help but wonder who did she even love more, him or his mother? 

Jack thought he had his answer, though when Y/N leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw. No matter how often the two giggled at his expense, she didn’t kiss his mother on the jaw, and Jack couldn’t help but shoot a smirk her way as she rolled her eyes and stood.

“There are more I have to dig up sometime.” Ellen hummed, making Jack groan as Y/N nodded eagerly. “I’ll leave you two alone for a while.”

“I’m starting to think you come over for my mom instead of me.” Jack huffed as his mother left the room, making her roll her eyes as she leaned into his side. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her flush against his body, relaxing as her hand found his chest and rubbed slow circles. 

“Only you would be jealous of your own mother.” Y/N snorted.

“I’m not jealous.” Jack protested. “I’m simply concerned that you ignore your boyfriend for hours to make fun of him with his mother.” 

If there was one thing Y/N had learned after flipping through page after page of crying baby pictures, it was that Jack has been dramatic since the day he was born. This fact didn’t change even in his adult years, but if there was one other thing she’s learned, it’s that he was endearing, just a little too cute for his own good, and just a little too dangerously charming whether it’s the camera he was pouting at or her. She couldn’t help but shuffle closer, hugging him tightly as she smiled softly into his shirt. 

“C’mon.” Y/N hummed, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You know you’re my favorite. I do wish I had a baby to cuddle with right now, though.”

“You have me.” Jack glared. “I’m your baby and you can cuddle with me.”

“It’s just not the same.” Y/N teased. “You talk too much.”

“I’ll have you know I got in trouble quite a lot as a child for talking too much. Adult me is a lot better.” Somehow, Y/N wasn’t surprised and a small part of her was almost grateful she didn’t know Jack in his young, obnoxious days as a child. An even bigger part of her felt bad for his mother and the strength she must’ve needed to raise the handful of a boyfriend in her arms along with his two brothers. “And besides.” Jack smirked, leaning down to pull her into a brief kiss. “If you want a baby, I could easily give you one.”

“Jack.” Y/N hissed, swatting his shoulder and making him pout as he rubbed over the spot she’d hit. “One of you is more than enough. We don’t need another.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x female reader #jack hughes x fem!reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes drabble #jh86 #jack hughes thoughts #new jersey devils

[dianneking]

The Affair - Chapter 2 (Larissa/Reader)

Hello everyone, here's the second installment to this little fic. Writing has been slow-going but the kind comments I got on chapter 1 both here and on AO3 were a great motivation to put in the work when I had the time and brainpower to do so. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Larissa Weems/You Rating: Mature Tags: Alcohol consumption, Morally Ambiguous Character, Swearing, Boss/Employee Relationship, Seduction, Second-person POV, Teacher Reader, Power Imbalance.

AO3 link in title below

< Previous Chapter - Next Chapter (tbc)

Chapter 2 - Private Booth

“I must admit this is highly unprofessional of me, but I cannot help but find you incredibly alluring, darling.” She murmured in your ear and you heard a breathy laugh exiting your mouth, feeling as if it came from miles away. 

You weren’t sure how the evening had evolved to this point, if you had to be perfectly honest. You were sure you both had been the picture of professionality at the start of your dinner together, sitting primly at the table in the private booth, ordering a light meal and talking about lesson plans and your previous work experiences.

You had been nervous, but except for the unusual setting, it hadn’t been that different from countless other meetings you’d had with principals. And, you mused as you took a bite of your salad, to be honest you appreciated having this conversation over food for once instead than in a stuffy office. 

Was it some sort of cultural difference that outcasts had? Or was it a peculiarity of the woman sitting in front of you? She seemed like someone who was more than able to disregard rules if she wanted to. 

You found yourself liking that, despite your usual aversion for rule breaking.

Then…then Larissa (she had asked you to call her Larissa at some point, you were sure of that) Larissa had offered to share a bottle of wine “to toast together at a fruitful collaboration” and you had had half a mind to turn the offer down, but found yourself agreeing. Why the hell not? It had been ages since you drank some good wine, and your principal looked like the kind of woman who’d only choose good alcohol. 

“You have great taste,” you had commented, sipping on your first glass, and it had been at that moment that you had felt the energy in the booth starting to shift. She had dabbed her mouth on her napkin, and let her eyes roam over your figure for a handful of seconds more than it was polite to do before replying, “Oh of course. I very rarely lose my time when it’s not worth it.” Her lips had curved up in a smirk and you had had to take another sip of that wine to give time to your suddenly galloping heart to slow down a bit. Surely she was still talking about the wine, wasn’t she?

But then the conversation had moved on and you thought you had imagined the flirty undertone. Surely she wouldn’t be the type to do something like that, would she? Even if you hadn’t actively sought out gossip, surely you would have heard if Nevermore’s principal was a serial seducer, right? 

Larissa had been an extremely pleasant conversationalist, and often you found yourself invested in the latest anecdote from one of her travels, or her opinion on one subject or another. You laughed at her recounting of the antics of her students, and were amazed at the lavish traditions of Nevermore that she insisted on educating you on. 

You could have listened to her talk all night long, looking at how her face danced with emotions, how the passion she had for her job and her loyalty to her school shone in her voice as well as her eyes. And the way she ran her tongue against her teeth every now and then had you completely mesmerized. You were hanging on her lips and had given up feeling self conscious about it. You wanted to know more about this mysterious lady. You wanted to know all that she’d be willing to tell you.

And you were acutely aware that you still hadn’t discovered what exactly had happened that had left her for several months on sick leave. The students talked of an attack of undead  to the school but you were sure those were exaggerations, and that there was a less…fanciful explanation. Teenagers are known for making a big deal out of small mundanities. Even taking that into account, it seemed like mysteries surrounded this woman, wrapping around her like the subtle yet lingering scent of her perfume. 

“You smell amazing.” You had blurted out, and almost clapped a hand over your own mouth, horrified at your sudden boldness. That was not something to say to your boss who apparently still had the power to fire you if she somehow found you lacking! 

But she hadn’t bristled, nor had she seemed in any way angry or offended. She had simply chuckled lightly, and busied herself with swirling wine inside her glass with slow, hypnotic movements.

“Thank you, dear. It’s Ambre Nuit, by Dior, obviously.”

“...Obviously.” You had parroted back, even though you knew nothing about perfumes and even less about Dior. Your eyes were glued to her hand, still cradling the bowl of the wine glass. You had not noticed until now just how long and tapered and beautiful her fingers were. How effortlessly they curled on the glass shoulder to loosely swirl its contents. A part of you wondered how those hands would feel on your body.

“You know? You could smell it even better if you came to sit beside me…there’s plenty of space on this bench…” her voice had trailed off, and it might have been the wine coursing in your system, but this time you felt like you could almost taste the promises in her voice. 

And that’s how you had found yourself squeezed besides her on the bench, your thigh pressed against hers, the fabric of her dress and of your trousers the only thing separating your skin from making contact with hers. You were acutely aware of how dimmed the lights had been in the private booth, and how the waiters had stopped coming around after they had delivered your desserts. 

A perfect setup, suggested the romantic part of your brain, a part that was often overlooked and laid dormant in the day to day routine.

A perfect trap, countered the more cynical part, who couldn't help but wonder how many times had the beautiful woman beside you put on this show for her latest prey. 

It just all seemed so effortless for her. She mixed her flirting (it had to be flirting by now, right?) with more easygoing topics, she kept topping your glass off with that lovely wine, as well as drinking just as much herself. One part red flag, one part irresistible temptation.  

And it was at that point that she had leaned over, and you had felt her breath hot on your ear, and you were sure you had drank way too much wine because just that little puff of air made your skin erupt in goosebumps and your head spin. 

“I must admit this is highly unprofessional of me, but I cannot help but find you incredibly alluring, darling.”

“I must be dreaming” you said before your common sense could stop you, the tingling of your giggle still in your throat.

But not even in your wildest dreams could you have imagined how her hand felt as it fell on your thigh, light as a feather, but making your skin burn white hot even through the fabric.. 

“Well I suppose I’ll have to pinch you then.”

---------------

Want more? Here's my fanfiction masterlist

Taglist: @barbarasstar @peggycarter3 @aemilia19

#dianneking writes #dianneking fanfiction #dragonmist fanfiction #larissa weems fanfiction #gwendoline christie fanfiction #larissa weems #gwendoline christie #larissa weems x you #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems fanfic #larissa weems x y/n #netflix wednesday

[blackgirlcinephiles]

Incoming: Long post! Black media discourse! Zendaya think piece!

Two years ago I wrote this post about Zendaya, Keke Palmer, and how colorism shapes the career trajectories of Black actresses.

This past weekend Challengers released in theaters, sparking a round of online discussion about Zendaya, her star power, her talent as an actor, and how a raunchy film like Challengers fits into a cultural landscape that’s less enthusiastic about on-screen depictions of sex.

Early reviews of the film lauded Zendaya’s performance, and even after it’s release, the general consensus remains overwhelmingly positive, with quiet buzzing of a potential Oscar nomination for Zendaya. Kudos to her!

I’m not here, however, to discuss or analyze Zendaya’s acting chops. (To some ppl, she’s outstanding, to others she’s overhyped. Personally, I think Zendaya is talented. Her work in Euphoria was no small feat and she’s proved herself capable.)

The reason I’m writing this now is that an excerpt from this article about Zendaya and Challengers got me thinking again about what it takes for Black actors to become “stars” in this day and age. I’ll insert screenshots here.

Now I’m sure the reviewer’s tone in these excerpts will be off-putting to some, esp those who identify as a part of the Zendaya standom. It’s clear that Ms. Angelica Jade Bastien has yet to buy into the fanfare about Zendaya’s acting abilities.

But she touches on something very interesting to me. Zendaya is THE most prominent Black actress of the younger generation and I’d argue her degree of star power is unmatched by even her non-Black peers, some of them having comparatively longer (& more impressive) resumes. Zendaya is incredibly well liked. People want to see her and she’s been so visible these past 6 years that it’s hard to believe Challengers is her first leading role in a big release.

So…why her? Why has Zendaya been able to garner this level of star power and leverage behind the scenes while other equally talented Black actors fight for adequate roles and visibility? After reading several opinions, I’ve come to some conclusions.

I think colorism, racial identity, and desirability politics all play a role (as was discussed in the colorism post). But I also think Zendaya has been very smart about managing her online presence and overall brand. She’s maintained Beyonce level privacy about her personal life (virtually scandal free since her teens) and has managed to exude poise while still being seen as delightfully down-to-earth. That in itself is praiseworthy b/c it’s a delicate balancing act and many have faltered.

I also think that as AJB states, there’s an indictment on Hollywood to be made here. I think since Zendaya’s exit from Disney, the projects she’s taken on have used her likeness to stoke public interest in the films. (Similar to the way ppl watched Selena’s film choices post- Wizards of Waverly: “What’s this beloved disney kid up to next?”)

And this is noteworthy b/c the significance of Zendaya’s roles in the early films of the Spiderman and Dune franchises have been disproportionate to her visibility in promotional materials. Zendaya’s screentime in the first Dune couldn’t have amounted to more than 10 minutes, but she was prominently featured on the press tour and red carpets. The same goes for the first Spiderman. She’s clearly been used to sell tickets to these movies, even when she doesn’t have a lot to do in them.

And Zendaya, to her credit, has made the most of these opportunities (earlier this year she received high praise for her performance as Chani in Dune 2). She once stated in a vogue interview that she started going out for roles initially written as white to see if she’d be able to change the casting team’s mind. And it seems that she’s succeeded, as evidenced by her presence in several huge releases over the past 6 years. But these were often small, supporting roles where her identity as a biracial Black woman didn’t impact her character’s arc within the overall story. (This is not necessarily a bad thing in itself, but stay with me)

This then begs the question, “What does it mean for a star like Zendaya to take up roles originally reserved for white actresses?”

The conclusion I’ve come to is that it means providing a film with enough racial diversity to give the impression that Hollywood cares about being inclusive, while not being so different that certain audiences are unable to “connect” to the character. I think that “Hollywood’s acceptable Black girl” has to be Black enough to fulfill a diversity quota, but not so Black that audiences are reminded the character has a different lived experience from them and feel uncomfortable.

Like AJB said, I don’t believe mainstream audiences are actually interested in Black female rage. It makes them uncomfortable and lately certain factions of the population have been extremely vocal about being “tired of woke.”

I find it strange that Justin Kuritzkes (the Challengers screenwriter) stated it only made sense to write Tashi as a Black woman bc of the visibility and dominance of Black women in tennis, but didn’t think it’d be important to explore any of the challenges that come with that in the film. And for this to be followed by the decision to cast a light skinned, biracial actress in the role? It doesn’t make any sense.

We’re shown that Tashi Duncan is a fierce, unapologetically competitive athlete. And yet, these are not qualities that Black female athletes are usually applauded for having. Just look at the narratives that have swirled around athletes like Serena Williams and Sha’Carri Richardson since their debuts. There’s always a barely concealed desire to humble high achieving Black women who are confident in their abilities. The press coverage around Serena & Naomi’s infamous match (which Justin Kuritzkes said inspired Challengers) is a perfect example of that. It’s strange to model a character after these figures and give no mention of these struggles and how they’d influence character motivations.

IMO, this reads as another case of not wanting to be critized for lack of diversity in your film, while also not wanting to do the work that goes into making your diverse cast authentic. (like getting input from or writing alongside other BIPOC screenwriters. That “little white boys” line is truly meaningless without any context or backstory. And it doesn’t sound like they’ve given Tashi much.) The result is an Black female lead character who is under-written and whose importance has been overstated in the promos in contrast to the actual story. (Which seems to fit right on trend for films Zendaya’s been a part of.)

Zendaya seems to have become the go-to Black actress for when big budget films want to “go ethnic.” She’s mixed race, conventionally beautiful, near universally well-liked w/ a loyal fanbase, and has been recognized as talented enough (Two Emmys! Count ‘em. Two!) to get the job done. She’s a safe bet that allows them to kill two birds with one stone. By adding Zendaya to the mix, the studio gets to check a diversity box for their cast and gets leading star guaranteed to get them sales.

I really don’t want anyone to misconstrue this as downplaying Zendaya’s achievements or her talent, b/c it’s not. But no part of the society we live in is a true meritocracy. As I discussed in the original post re: colorism, there are always structural and social forces at work shaping our ability to advance. Like Beyonce, Zendaya is an incredibly privileged Black woman who is talented, has worked hard, and has made the most of the advantages she’s been afforded. And I don’t think Zendaya has any control over the way she’s been used to advertise the films she’s done over the past 6 years.

I just think this conversation is another opportunity to adjust our perspectives and examine the limitations of representation in Hollywood. I’m reluctant to acknowledge Zendaya’s current success as a marker of progress or even see it as a win for Black female representation.

“Zendaya is officially Gen Z’s Hollywood star. Gen Z’s first true Hollywood star is a Black woman!”

What does it say about the stage of progress we’re in if our generation’s chosen Black leading lady has to have such close proximity to whiteness that people can choose to overlook her Blackness, if they so desire? Is the mere presence of a Black face in a high place progress? Or is it what that person’s power allows them to do for others who are also marginalized? As AJB asked, how meaningful is Zendaya’s position as a Black female producer if everything about the projects she’s involved in is white except for her? (Just throwing out food for thought: How different would Challengers have been if a MoC was casted as one of the male leads instead of the two “white twinks” everyone can’t stop talking about? No shade to Mike Faist or Josh O’Connor, but would it still have gotten buzz? Would the marketing team have known how to advertise the film if there were two main actors of color instead of one?)

I think it’s amazing to see Zendaya’s growth and success as a biracial Black female entertainer, but I won’t attach any meaning to her success that isn’t there.

This is actually a really shitty time for Black art and Black actors in Hollywood. Last year, so many wonderful Black shows were cancelled. DEI rollbacks are hitting all parts of society, but especially entertainment and the trend doesn’t seem to be reversing any time soon.

It’s not comforting to see Zendaya reach the heights she’s soared to, while other equally talented yet less privileged Black actors fall into obscurity waiting years before they get another role that showcases their abilities. Black actors continue to suffer from lack access to opportunities/roles. Their projects are not marketed and given time to grow. And even when the support is there, the shows will still be cancelled. What does it say that the one Black actress who has had consistent enough access to these opportunites to achieve “star” status is the one with the closest proximity to whiteness?

Things are actually very bleak.

#blackgirlcinephiles #black girls on tumblr #discourse #black actresses #black actresses in hollywood #zendaya #challengers #what does it mean to be a star in this day and age #what is the true importance of having a Black hollywood star? #should it mean anything? #black representation #black representation in media

[fumifooms]

Here to share Hien thoughts today.

One thing that defines her is that she’s very capable. She’s the highest ranking in the squad after Maizuru so her confidence is in part because she does have that senior coworker &/ leader authority to her, confidence which is very much earned.

If I had to dig deeper at her beyond just what we’re shown I’d go with the angle that… She was born into the Nakamoto household and being a ninja servant, she grew up there, she doesn’t know anything else beyond the job, and it’s a job she does well, traines to get there. She’s here to do her work and she’s content with her life being how it is, not that she knows anything else. I don’t think she’d be self-aware about it all? Both because this really is pretty normal for Wa and it’s her normal, and because, while she doesn’t fold her spine or care for things like cosmetics, she does mold her attitude to be both capable and respectable. Her home, the Nakamoto household, is simultaneously a professional setting, it’s a 24/7 thing.

She’s critical of others, including her superiors and she doesn’t shy from it. Everyone shittalks Toshiro’s father regardless, but she also gets reprimanded by Maizuru for seeing Toshiro as vaguely unreliable, again likely influenced by their history as childhood friends, sasses Maizuru when she goes off into an anecdote again, etc. Even as a kid with Toshiro, doubtlessly after starting her ninja training already considering that Toshiro started his at ~5yo, she told him it was unbecoming of him to cry. She’s the one both with the job and the will to keep others in check, like when it comes to Izutsumi not doing her tasks, etc etc.

Her childhood friend relationship with Toshiro only grew more professional with time, to her surprise but seems to be more about the thought of it rather than it affecting her emotionally. With the way her extra comic lays it out, it seems she expected to become Toshiro’s mistress because of history repeating itself, in a "it is what it is" way more than anything, which is in line with the reading that she’s more go-with-the-flow and "anything that I’m tasked with I’ll accomplish, as a matter of course". She’s not really social, and keeps herself ready to act at beck and call. She’s not uptight but she’s hard-working. So yeah like, taking pride in your skills but also keeping your identity mostly molded for efficiency. She doesn’t really think about it all, she just is and she’s fine with things as they are, going from one task to the next.

I think it’d be neat to look at her relationship with her parents… They’re both servants at the Nakamotos’, so while maybe busy like Maizuru was at times while raising Toshiro but still taking the time to cook for him (which, parents that prioritize work over her would make sense with how she became how she is), I wonder what their relationship was like, how much time they spent together, how Hien feels like towards them… I assume they’re a part in molding what her definition of normal is, after all if they are longstanding servants of the Nakamotos she has that much less reason to question such a life. But like… Have they ever had hard-hitting discussions, or is she pretty distant even with them? Did they push her into working harder, or were more hands-off? Does Hien maybe want to earn recognition by being capable? Hien has a younger sister that she gets along "so-so" with…

Hien’s younger sister seems to smile more, be more social and a bit nonchalant, such and such. Could be a point of tension that points to the "so-so", that they’re dissimilar/Hien thinks she doesn’t behave right or takes things too lightly, that she’s "unreliable" maybe. Or it could also point to some difference in how they grew up… Like oh I bet there could be tasty angst with mertocracy and siblings favoritism with her family thrown in there… Having to earn the love, earn your keep, earn your spot in the hierarchy (in work and family both)

To me she shines best as a foil, like to Beni, but like. She’s got neat stuff going on If you’re wondering where I took half of what I referenced from I recommend looking at my masterpost on the Nakamoto party, info and extras are compiled

#Dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #Hien #Meta #character analysis #fumi rambles #Working on a lot of different things on top of my actual work so things r slower than i’d like lately… Have this Discord ramble as apology #Meanwhile Beni’s attitude is very subservient and submissive. It’s interesting how little and how much difference they have simultaneously #On that front. Like you can’t really say Hien isn’t like a bodyguard ornament in the bg even if she shows more personality #Hienbeni fic will get finished one day I prommy #We’ve never seen Hien stressed which I think is a feat. Teach me your ways (probably repression) #Hien girlboss compilation #Ok Hien sister jealousy plot where she doesn’t know where the anger is coming from so she assumes it’s out of principle bc h slacks off #Hienbeni repressed anger power couple truly #So hmmm 3w2 enneagram Hien…? Beni I was thinking either 8w9 or 6w5… Maybe smth that becomes an 8 when stressed #You have to be pretty ballsy to specialize in explosives

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Provider Discretion (LU in Healthcare)

(Lots of technical jargon in this one, lovelies, hope you don’t mind)

Something wasn’t right.

The patient herself was… okay. Mostly. She had called 911 because she’d had back pain that had just been getting worse, and she’d said she couldn’t even get around anymore.

Mo and Hyrule often exchanged a somewhat exasperated look when someone called an emergency line for something that had been an ongoing problem, but today this… was different. She just didn’t look well.

“I’m really sorry,” the patient apologized for the fourth time as Hyrule and Mo loaded the stretcher into the ambulance.

“It’s okay,” Hyrule quickly reassured her. His heart ached a little at how much this woman wanted to seem to shrink into oblivion. Even Mo, who, despite his big heart, often came across a little standoffish, had tried to make her smile multiple times. “This is what we’re here for.”

With a chief complaint of back pain, there wasn’t much to do outside of check vital signs. Mo could easily take this call. But Hyrule just… this felt wrong.

“Let’s get a 12-lead,” he said, already grabbing the cables for it while Mo got vitals. His partner didn’t argue, helping him place the leads in the right positions.

Vitals looked mostly fine. The patient’s blood pressure was high. She said she had a history of hypertension, so perhaps between that and her pain that would explain it. Though 180/98 did not make Hyrule particularly happy. But he couldn’t treat that.

The 12-lead showed normal sinus rhythm. Nothing wrong there. But something just didn’t feel right.

Grabbing the blood pressure cuff, Hyrule checked it again, but on the opposite side.

There was a discrepancy.

Hyrule and Mo looked at each other, eyebrows pinching. Mo took a manual on the left. Hyrule took a manual on the right.

They still didn’t match.

Feeling dread fill him, Hyrule told Mo, “I’m taking this call. Let’s get going. We don’t need lights but… just drive expediently, ok?”

The transport was blessedly uneventful. But the discrepancy remained. Her blood pressure was high, but higher on one side than the other. Coupling that with back pain…

Her aorta. Hyrule was worried about her aorta. The biggest artery in this woman’s entire body could getting ready to tear apart.

When Hyrule texted Warriors later, he got his answer.

Dissection. They rushed her to the OR. You pointing out the BP difference really tipped off the doc. Good catch.

Mo whistled. “Good thing she didn’t rupture in our truck.”

Hyrule blew out a breath. He was just thankful he trusted his gut.

XXX

The dispatch information had been for diabetic emergency. Fire had gotten there first, which Aurora was thankful for since she and Dawn were coming from the hospital and therefore farther away than if they’d responded from the station.

When they arrived, the house was a nightmare. The street was so narrow that the ambulance and fire truck blocked the road entirely, the stairs were so narrow Aurora felt like she had to squeeze her arms in just to climb up them, and the turns were so sharp she wasn’t sure how any kind of equipment could get up there. The patient was lying on his bed, altered, and unable to move.

According to the patient’s friend, he’d heard him fall and came up to check on him. He knew he was a diabetic and figured his blood glucose had to be low. Fire had already checked it, saying it was over two hundred. As the firefighter paramedic gave information to Aurora, he said, “He could be acting like this because of his sugar. Could be a stroke. We’re not sure.”

Honestly, Aurora couldn’t see the patient all that well from her vantage point. Dawn had already walked in and started assessing, they’d handed a reeves stretcher to the firemen, and they were working on loading him on to it. The girl went downstairs to prep the stretcher for their arrival. Once they managed to get the patient into the ambulance, Aurora stared.

This man’s entire right side of his face was noticeably drooping. He was moving his head a little to the left, eyes somewhat moving, pupils equal. Aurora quickly asked him to look at her, to follow her finger. While he could stare at her, he couldn’t track at all, and his eyes wouldn’t move to the right. He blinked once while attempting, and was only able to blink his left eye.

Who the hell thought this could be his sugar??

Once Dawn got in the truck, they were quick to get vitals and a 12-lead. He was hypertensive, all other vitals fine.

“We need to stroke alert this,” Aurora immediately said.

“But he was last seen normal three hours ago,” Dawn said uncertainly. “Isn’t that outside the window? Or is the window four hours now?”

“I think it’s four,” Aurora answered. “And it doesn’t matter either way. This is absolutely a neuro issue. Drive us hot, okay?”

Dawn nodded, heading to the front. She drove to the hospital with the lights and sirens on, allowing them a faster transport time, while Aurora called it in to the hospital. As they progressed, she tried to get the patient to follow commands, but he couldn’t. He held up his right arm but couldn’t hold his left up at all, and he still didn’t really track any movement.

When they arrived at the hospital, they were placed in a major room, transferring him quickly to the hospital bed. Warriors was charge that night, working on coordinating all the help they’d need for this patient. The ED physician entered, looking the patient over, and then turned to Aurora, asking, “So what makes you think he’s having a stroke?”

Aurora stopped in mid motion, looking at him with the most enraged and bewildered expression. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Why do you think he’s having a stroke?” The doctor repeated.

“What makes you think he isn’t?!” Aurora snapped, completely mind blown that this was even a debate. “His face is drooping so low it’s hitting the earth’s fucking crust, he’s altered, not tracking movement, blinking with one eye, down on one side, is hypertensive, and you’re asking why I—do you even know what a stroke is??”

“Let’s just alert it,” Warriors said calmly as he walked into the room, clearly sensing that the paramedic was about to explode. “It’ll get us a CT to rule it out.”

Aurora was fuming, and she stormed out before she could hear a response. Dawn tried to gently check on her, only to be subjected to her ranting for the next hour.

Later, Warriors texted Hyrule, who relayed the message. “You were right.”

“OF FUCKING COURSE I WAS!”

XXX

Legend wasn’t particularly a fan of working triage.

There were aspects of it that were exciting - he was the one to make first contact with patients who didn’t come in via ambulance, and he determined their acuity. But there was also a public relations aspect to it, a patience dealing with impatient people, a kindness and sympathy for those who were genuinely hurting or needing help but had to wait anyway. It was understandable, but public relations… was not Legend’s forte.

There was a reason he was put in triage, though.

It wasn’t always obvious, what was wrong with someone. But there were times when a patient just didn’t look right. Legend saw the man limp over, listened to him as he explained that he had some leg pain that had been going on for the last few days, how he thought maybe he’d strained a muscle but the pain hadn’t improved.

There were always signs to look out for. Little things, cues that something was off. The man looked resigned, reluctant; he clearly had been talked in to coming to the hospital, and he commented that his wife insisted on it. Legend saw the clothes he wore, heard the accent he spoke with, saw his muscles, and pieced together that he was probably a farmer.

Farmers never came to the hospital.

“We’ll get you back as soon as we can,” he finally said after completing his assessment. Usually, this patient would be low on the acuity scale—a muscle spasm or strain was not nearly as important as a heart attack, pneumonia, sepsis, strokes, traumas—but Legend made him a yellow rather than a green. Just to be sure.

That higher acuity score got him a room far faster. That faster room made a doctor assess him and notice that his left leg was bigger than his right. That doctor made sure he got an ultrasound of his leg, found clots in his leg. She also learned the man was short of breath sometimes, which his wife insisted was new, and got a CT scan.

Legend glanced at his chart later to see him being admitted. Confused and curious, he did some digging.

The man had a pulmonary embolism.

Huffing with a small smile of satisfaction, Legend closed out of the chart as another patient approached.

XXX

Time had to admit, he did not spend as much time assessing his patients as he should. His hours were stolen away in the OR, unpredictable and chaotic as his line of work was. So sometimes he didn’t get to round, sometimes he didn’t have a chance to walk in and chat with the patients and the nurses and the licensed independent providers who took charge of their care.

Today he was glad he did.

The patient was actually calm and pleasant, had little complaint of anything except for some lower back pain. In the world of uncomfortable hospital beds, it wasn’t a huge surprise.

But Time saw something. Some staining, bruising, around the patient’s groin. He peeked around their gown, turned them a little, and saw it.

Their groin was purple. He asked the nurse, who said they were told this had been baseline for a day or two, and that the independent providers over them had acknowledged the finding and moved on.

Time walked into the doc box where the providers were. “I want a CT abdomen for room 3. She’s got some bruising that’s concerning. Her H&H has been down trending steadily.”

“Her JP drains haven’t put out much,” the physician assistant noted, looking over the patient’s chart.

“She might have a retroperitoneal bleed,” Time pointed out. “Let’s just be sure.”

Years of education and even more years of experience had taught the trauma surgeon well. The war was especially humbling and educational. So when he got a text from the PA that the patient did indeed have a retroperitoneal, he wasn’t surprised. But he was disappointed that he had to be the one to notice it.

Sometimes, he supposed, it took the leader to point out the problem.

XXX

Four… didn’t like this.

Report had been bad enough. The day shift nurse spoke of how the patient had been previously septic and was recuperating well before her pressor demand had gone up during the day. She looked… not great. She was so edematous they were constantly changing the sheets underneath her arms because her body was leaking fluid from every inch of itself - they had dumped fluids into her over the last few days just to maintain her blood pressure. She was on a lasix drip to get her lot o pee off the fluid as best as possible, and her kidney function was… decent, but not great.

As Four assessed her, the clenching his chest only worsened. She was alert, oriented, a little miserable but trying to be in good spirits, bless her. She was peeing a decent amount, her pulses were present despite the swelling, her lung sounds were a little coarse but overall mostly clear. Her abdomen was soft and non-tender, her pupils were equal and reactive, and she didn’t have much complaint of pain aside from being sick of laying in bed, which Four could understand.

But still. This just… didn’t look great.

As the night progressed, the woman’s pressor need climbed. Four continued to increase epinephrine, increase norepinephrine. He tried not to increase the vasopressin too much as it had such a profound effect on vasoconstriction that it could cause necrosis. Also, the woman had a history of heart failure and had a pretty weak heart.

Four eventually went to the resident in charge of the patient for the night. “Hey. Can we maybe give 11 some albumin? She has plenty of fluid to give, but clearly it isn’t in her vasculature - she’s peeing ok but her pressure isn’t tolerating it. I feel like it could help.”

The resident shuffled on his feet uncertainly. “The surgeon really wants to make sure we can get this fluid off. I’d rather keep her negative and not give her more fluid, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Four greed before continuing, “But albumin is only 250mL, and if it helps suck in the fluid that’s third spacing, it’ll still help. We’re dumping fluid in her through the pressors anyway.”

The resident continued to waffle, before the night attending asked, “She’s on vaso, right?”

“Yes.”

“Just go up on that.”

Four stared a moment longer, starting to doubt himself. He hadn’t been a nurse for long, and if an attending physician was saying this, then… it had to be true, right?

Sighing, he went back to the room and did as he was told. The patient’s blood pressure improved well enough, and the night progressed fine.

The next night was not as fine. At rounds, Four suggested that perhaps she should be lined for CRRT, a continuous dialysis that would allow for Four to control how much fluid they were pulling and would likely be better for the patient to tolerate. The night doctors shrugged, saying they’d mention it to the day team.

Again, the woman’s blood pressure was tanking. Again, Four had to increase pressors. Vaso had been turned down and was told to be left alone because the woman’s systemic vascular resistance was so high the attending was worried about her heart. (Four couldn’t help but feel a little bitter about it, because he knew that was going to happen)

This time, though, she went into atrial fibrillation as well. As Four called the resident and attending into the room, they deliberated the matter, muttering, “Maybe we should line her for CRRT.”

Four blinked. Stared. Was he… losing his mind?? Was he invisible? He’d suggested this earlier!

Ultimately, Four had managed to keep the patient stable enough so that it wasn’t needed. Ultimately, the shift ended uneventfully.

But when Four came back for his third night, he could hear the woman’s breathing from the door, he could hear how she was drowning in fluid because she couldn’t tolerate losing fluid but had too much for her lungs and heart to handle. The day team had lined her for CRRT, but her pressors were almost maxed out at their dosage, and she was so hypotensive that the renal nurse who had set up the machine was hesitant to start it up, saying it would further bottom out her pressure.

Tonight was different, though. Tonight, the provider in charge of making decisions and orders was a nurse practitioner, someone who was used to this unit. She walked in, saw the issues Four had seen, and she walked right back out, making a call.

Four struggled to keep the patient alive long enough for the ECMO team to arrive as the patient fell apart. He felt frustration boil his blood as he had to hand off her care after fighting for her, had to watch as the CV ICU nurse came in to take over while surgeons put large cannulas into the patient’s body to redirect blood flow around her heart so she could still perfuse her organs. He watched as they wheeled her out of the trauma ICU to go to the cardiac ICU where she would remain while on such extreme support, and he threw his pen on the desk, burying his face in his hands, fuming.

They should have listened to him.

#writing #lu in healthcare #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu aurora #lu warriors #lu four #lu time #lu dawn #Every provider sees things in different perspectives and it’s important for all of them to LISTEN TO EACH OTHER #Nurses are at the bedside and see the most and can figure out when there’s an acute change and can see what a patient needs #Doctors often can catch something that’s been unnoticed for a while because they’re coming in with fresh eyes and an overhead view #First responders get a big picture and take in a lot of info at once to make in the moment decisions #Everyone plays a part #But sometimes providers are freaking stupid #And sometimes I wanna strangle them #Here’s to hoping my phone and iPad didn’t edit medical terms into other words #Guess I’ll find out when I reread it in a bit LOL

[plumgyu]

More Than Convenience - Choi Soobin

(Soobin/Female Reader)

Warnings: Smut, Blowjob, Eating Out, Fingering, Praise Kink

You found yourself dreading each day at work. Hours and hours of dealing with nosy customers, restocking shelves, all while desperately trying to manage the infinite wrath of your boss, Mrs. Lee, proved exhausting to say the least. That was until a certain coworker joined your shift.

He was so tall it would scare you if not for his baby face. He wore a light grey pair of trousers, matched with a soft knit cardigan which accentuated his slim figure. His lips and eyes reminded you of that of a bunny’s, and his fluffy hair only further proved that fact. He wore a polite smile on his face, and even Mrs. Lee seemed to like him, grinning at him as if she were a proud mother. You scowled under your breath. Since when was she kind to anyone?

“Ah, yes… We are going to get so many customers because of you…” She muttered, and you now knew the reason why his presence brought her so much joy. Oh god, was he going to be one of those people who are stuck up simply due to the fact that they are pretty? Mrs. Lee called your name, gesturing towards you as to introduce you to him.

“This is the other worker in your shift, Mr. Choi. Please take the register for her whenever you are able, your good looks will boost my sales!” Did she have no shame…? He smiled awkwardly at this statement, fidgeting with his hands behind his back, showing that he was deeply uncomfortable. Regardless, you didn’t like him. Because of your manager’s decision, you would now be stuck hunched over on your back filling shelves with hundreds of products each day. Either way, you smiled at him, not wanting to make another enemy at work, since the woman in front of you clearly proved to be one.

“It’s nice to meet you. You can call me Soobin.” You were surprised to find that rather than Mrs. Lee, he was speaking to you, and you acknowledged his words with a small nod. You wouldn’t allow yourself to like him so easily. It was best to be cold so he knows how you felt about him. This guy would be forcing you to get scoliosis by the time a month had passed.

Your boss soon left the room, giving him a quick overview on how to use the cash register as she walked by, telling him to ask for your help if he ever needed. “Thanks for offering for me to give him a run-down on your policies, boss!” You wanted to say, but you knew better than to defy the one who kept food on your plate. With a quick shake of his hand, you and Soobin went on your separate ways, both tending to your individual positions.

—˚ʚ♡ɞ˚—

It had been a little over a month since your coworker joined, and to your utmost surprise, your back was still intact, although in pain. Speaking of Soobin, you soon learned that he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was, even though it was technically his presence which had reduced you to a shelf stocker. If he noticed you were tired, he’d offer to swap places until Mrs. Lee walked in and yelled at you for ‘ruining her sales,’ but you were perfectly good looking yourself, thank you very much. She’d apologize to Soobin for you stealing his position, as if he hadn’t offered to do it in the first place, patting him on the head, giving him a sorrowful look before glaring in your direction. What did this woman even have against you? The mere thought of these moments put an expression of pure annoyance on your face.

It was yet another day at work when, as to no one’s surprise, you were filling yet another shelf with chips. To your distaste, it happened to be the one shelf you couldn’t reach the top layer of, and there was no way in hell you were going to walk all the way to the supply closet for a single row of chips. Before you processed what you sounded like, the words escaped your lips.

“Soobin, could you help me reach the top shelf of this?” Oh shit. Without realizing it, you had reenacted word for word every drama’s cliche scene. But what were you supposed to do, especially when there was a human ladder right in the same room as you? His reaction was in every way similar to the movies you’d seen, and this weird fluttery feeling filled your chest.

He walked up to you, and without a word, his arms moved past your face as he essentially held the air around you to place every bag in its place. Your heart stopped. God, why were you feeling like this? You tried to shake off the thought, and the faint red tint on his ears as he walked away in silence, but it kept coming back like a song that just couldn’t get out of your head.

Finally, due to the disappointment of realizing that next you would have to carry dozens of gallons of milk into the fridge, your mind went elsewhere.

That is why, when work ended that day, it was a most pleasant surprise. As you made your way out, getting ready to close the shop, you saw a woman and her two children at the register, smiling red-faced at the sight of the cashier. With his assurance, she stacked a few more candies for the young boys next to her, increasing her bill by at least five dollars. “It pisses me off so much when Mrs. Lee is right…” You muttered, bothered by how pretty that man was and angry at the increased fortune of your boss, even if by a minuscule amount. You left the store that night scoffing in annoyance, both at your manager and at yourself for growing fond of the boy you worked with.

As you closed your eyes that night to sleep, you drifted off to a heavy dream.

His soft voice called out your name, equally soft hands brushing past your cheeks and onto your lips. His arms had you pinned against the shelves. He was pleading for your touch. You soon realized that you were in the situation you had found yourself in earlier, but with a few key changes. The primary one being that his mouth was now on yours. You ignored the obvious parallels to the day you had just had, engrossed into the moment and engulfed into the ocean which was his eyes. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer into his body, leaving a hot sensation between your legs. Before you knew it, you were moaning into the kiss, yearning for more of him, for all of him.

“Please,” You whined, not wanting him to stop anytime soon, but to your surprise and displeasure, before you was your older sister. Your expression immediately shifted to one of disgust, matching hers painted in judgement.

“Why the hell are you fucking your pillow?” She asked, and you had no response other than silence. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips formed a frown. And with that, she left your room, refusing to close the door solely to bother you. Looking at the time, you realized you should be heading to work soon, and you went on your way, both ashamed and shocked that you could even imagine such a thing.

—˚ʚ♡ɞ˚—

Many days passed, and given your newfound… desires, it only got harder and harder to look Soobin in the eyes. He himself didn’t help much either, as now rather than allowing you to walk all the way to get a stepping stool, he ever so kindly (to your utter horror) decided to help you with stocking the tall shelves at any chance he got. If he ever so much as saw you step towards the supply closet, he would grab your wrist, sending butterflies into your stomach, and bring you back over to the aisle all while holding your arm.

Suddenly, you understood why people dropped the entirety of their bank accounts at the sight of him, because lately more than ever, he was the prettiest thing to you. Not that he had changed physically, he still had the same elegant yet equally cute beauty to him, but your feelings about him certainly had. Whether you told yourself so or not, whether you brushed it off or not, deep down you secretly knew that you liked him.

One day, after waking up from another dream that left you with a pool between your legs, he, yet again, leaned over you to place items on the shelf above. But he wasn’t focusing on his hands, nor was he staring into space. He was gazing directly into your eyes, which soon turned to him looking at your soft lips. You clearly noticed this, as your face soon felt warm and you stumbled over your words.

“Are you… finished yet?” You asked, hoping that the multiple times your voice broke were subtle enough to ignore, flashing a sheepish grin in attempt to lighten the suddenly thick mood. This seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in, as his face flushed, apologizing for his actions, walking straight back to the cash register. The rest of the day, he seemed to be glancing in your direction, and based on his demeanor, he didn’t notice that you were staring back and had seen through his attempts to be discreet each and every time. Of course, you could never say this, because that would only reveal that you were looking at him too.

—˚ʚ♡ɞ˚—

After what felt like an eternity, as if his presence in itself could slow down time, it was time for you to leave. Yet again, he was finishing up with the last customer, so you took the extra time to prepare the store for the next day. Mrs. Lee had already left hours ago, and she entrusted you to her keys not due to her belief in your abilities, but due to the fact that she couldn’t be bothered to do it herself. You waited at the door for Soobin to leave the room, not wanting to lock him in (which had already happened multiple times on accident). Finally, he stepped out of the door behind the person he had somehow managed to sell three dozen cartons of eggs to, shocked and impressed at both his ability to charm people and the customer’s strength to carry out a cart filled with so much food.

As he walked out to leave, avoiding your gaze with a face painted in a faint shade of pink, you suddenly had an urge to have him stay. And so you made him. You grabbed his wrist, as he often had at your feeble attempts to use a stepping stool instead of him, and mustered up all of your courage to speak.

“Soobin, wait,” You began, stumbling over every syllable as if each word were akin to running a marathon, “It’s late, so maybe we should eat here together…?”

He looked at you with an expression of obvious confusion, but there was something else in his eyes. He was flustered.

“Ah… But… Isn’t it the same time we always get off of work? I only made us a few minutes late with the eggs…” He questioned, and realizing your mistake, you flushed in embarrassment. Oh. Well, you probably should have thought about that sooner… You apologized, preparing to go off in your own direction, but now it was his turn to stop you from leaving, and he spoke yet again.

“Now that I think about it, I am kind of hungry… Let’s stay for a little?” He asked, ears a bright red by the time he finished talking. With nothing more than an excited nod, you followed him back in. At the corner of the shop lay a break room, lined with soft couches and coffee machines galore. Although it probably shouldn’t be called such, since it was practically Mrs. Lee’s office. If she caught anyone but her inside, she would threaten to fire them with an angry glare. You had hardly seen the entirety of it if not to report to her about some annoying customer asking for the person who ran the place. Now that you thought about it, that was probably the only work she actually did around here.

“I feel like I’m committing a crime by being in here,” Soobin muttered, and you laughed in agreement, an equally uncomfortable expression on your face. In your hands were two cups of spicy ramen, a chicken buried in peppers on the cover.

“Let’s see who stops to drink first,” You challenged, and he eagerly agreed.

“You’re on.” He joked, playing along with your game.

Pouring the hot water from the coffee machine into your noodles, it softened into a manageable texture. You took the first bite, pleasantly surprised. For a convenience store, it had pretty decent food. He obviously had a different opinion, as his face contorted in disgust both at the flavor and spice. At first you reveled in your victory, but as he was still suffering minutes later, you put down your chopsticks and ran to get him a cold drink. What was the best thing to use here…? Strawberry milk, you decided. Not that it was necessarily better than normal milk, but it had a picture of a bunny on it you couldn’t refuse.

You walked back to the room, only to find him still dying from heat, and quickly offered him a sip. You tried to ignore the way his face brushed past your hand as you fed him the drink, or the way his lips were somehow even cuter while around a straw.

“You know, you look like the bunny on this cup.” You said, before realizing what you were doing, and before you had time to undo your actions, he replied.

“Are you calling me cute, miss?” He teased, adding the last part solely to see your eyes dart around the room, searching for anything to look at but him. You were playfully annoyed at his words, but then you realized that you had to win anyways, so you gazed directly into his eyes.

“And what if I am?” You said simply, as if just making conversation. Clearly this worked on him, as his eyes widened in a manner which made him even more adorable than before, and it only made you want to fluster him more.

“Choi Soobin, what if I am calling you cute?” You reinstated your previous words, satisfied at the way his face had turned a soft pink at your words.

“I,” he began, trying to find a response, but his thoughts escaped his lips before an excuse could. “Can you kiss me?” This time it was your turn to be embarrassed. Such a bold request, coming from someone who knew you wouldn’t say no to them… No, he sounded hesitant, so it couldn’t be that. You knew you couldn’t say no to him.

Your expression told him everything he needed to know. You cupped his face in your hands, looking into his warm eyes, and to your surprise he pulled you into his lap. A soft squeak left your mouth, startled at his actions, but you soon grew to like the feeling of being surrounded by his body. Without wasting a second, you pressed your lips against his, enjoying the sweet taste of strawberry which remained. He held his arms around your waist tighter, as if you were so fragile you could disappear in a second, not letting go of the kiss for a moment. Realizing how far up his lap you were, he gasped against your mouth, but you only took this as an opportunity to feel his tongue against yours. Humming against his lips, you deepened the kiss, and he clearly enjoyed it as by the muffled whimper that you heard. This man was going to be the death of you.

Eventually you had to pull away to breathe, both panting for air. His lips were swollen and puffy from you sucking on them, and his eyes were filled with affection so deep it made your heart melt. And yet there was another emotion. Lust.

“More…” He whispered, face now buried into your neck. The sound of his voice was enough to make you insane. You pressed a soft kiss to his head.

“Soobin…” You replied, searching for something, anything to say with your mind in such a disheveled state. “I’m all yours. If you’ll be mine, too?” You nearly cringed at your own words before he immediately agreed, as if he had been waiting for this moment his entire life. Such sweet words were a stark contrast to the profanity of this situation. You sat in his lap, pressed firmly against the now hardened bulge in his pants.

“I wouldn’t want anything more." His words left a warm feeling in your heart, and an even warmer feeling between your legs. Within a moment, his mouth, once innocently resting on your shoulder, now latched itself onto the sensitive skin of your neck. You gasped in surprise, and before you could stop it, the feeling of his hot tongue led many not-so-innocent noises to escape your lips. Before, his name was said out of affection, and now, you were gasping it in desire. He left soft bites down your neck, his even softer breaths becoming something you could get addicted to.

Even so, it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You needed more. You found yourself grinding against him, and his sharp whines told you he needed you just as badly.

“Can I touch you?” You asked, wanting to hear more of his sweet sounds. He nodded slightly while looking away in embarrassment, but you pulled him right back into a soft kiss. You found yourself missing the feeling of his mouth on your skin. Your hand was placed between his legs, palming him through his clothes, and the desperate moans that left his lips nearly made you lose all composure. His head found itself buried in your neck yet again, biting into your skin as if to hold him steady. You sloppily undressed him, leaving him half wearing his trousers, all while remaining in his lap.

“Open your mouth.” His lips parted, sucking on your fingers with a look in his eye that told you he wanted you more than anything. You pressed yet another soft kiss to his forehead, now moving your hand back down and slowly stroking his cock. The sound that escaped him was nothing short of heavenly. His moans grew louder as your fingers moved faster, and you stopped for a moment only to sit on the floor in front of him.

“Please…” Before you could even ask, he pleaded for you to taste him, and so you did. You kissed his tip, smiling at how it twitched at your slightest touch. Wanting to see how far you could take this teasing, you licked him up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. His whimpers grew more and more desperate before you finally gave in, taking him whole. He tasted slightly sweet, a mild but pleasant flavor. You loved it. You loved him. His length was too much to maintain this for too long, so you shifted to stroking one half of him with your hand and licking him on the other. This seemed to do it for him, as his moans grew louder, calling your name endlessly as if you were the only one he could love, softly tugging on your hair in desperation.

You increased your speed, longing to hear more of his shaky breaths, wanting to give him all of the pleasure in the world. He was clearly affected by this, as he began rutting his hips into you, chasing his climax. At once, you felt his warm cum fill your mouth, a taste you could hardly enjoy before his lips were on yours once again. This time, he shifted to you, yearning to make you feel as good as you did for him. He pulled you back onto the couch, knee pressed between your legs as he kissed you, rubbing against your sensitive clit and sending sweet waves of pleasure through your body. His teasing proved deadly, one look into his eyes and you could tell he wasn’t going to stop until he had eaten you whole.

He leaned over, guiding you to lay down, quickly undressing you, resting his head on your thigh. He looked into your eyes, as if asking for your consent, and you simply responded by pulling him into you. You were already wet, but once his tongue was between your legs your arousal became almost unbearable. His cute eyes looked up into yours, as if seeking your praise. If it were any situation but this one you would have found it utterly adorable, but now, all it did was turn you on more.

“Harder…” You muttered between shaky breaths and gasps. He looked as if he were drunk on the high of pleasing you, face buried between your legs, tongue licking up every last drop of you. You gasped at the feeling of his fingers now buried inside of you, curling into you. He hit your sensitive spot, and you threw your head back in pleasure. In noticing this, he repeated the action over and over again.

“Soobin-ah… More…” This simple plea only made him go faster, eating you out as if his life depended on it, replicating any action that seemed to make you feel better than the last. He was incredibly acute in your reactions, exploiting your weaknesses, bringing waves of pleasure through your body. Soon, you couldn’t take it anymore, telling him you were about to finish. A rush of warmth filled your body, and you felt nothing short of ecstasy as you climaxed. He eased you through it, slowly tasting you with his tongue, and licked his lips once he pulled away.

He looked into your eyes, and your face flushed in embarrassment, only to be met by him peppering soft kisses all over your face. He laid down with you, fixed your clothes and buttoned his own pants, wrapping his arms around your waist. His head fell onto your chest looking up into your eyes lovingly.

“Are you sure we can’t just sleep here…?” He asked, half teasing half serious, now tired as it was getting late. His eyelids grew heavy, and he nearly slept on top of you. You woke him up through pinching his soft cheek.

“Has anyone ever told you how adorable you are?”

“Not anyone that mattered. Until now, that is.”

—˚ʚ♡ɞ˚—

“What the actual hell are you two doing?!” The booming voice of your boss woke you with a start. You took a moment to analyze your surroundings, and by the sight of Soobin lying atop you, cute face buried in your chest, still somehow fast asleep, you knew you were thoroughly fucked.

You tapped his shoulder until he awoke, desperate to get him to help you come up with any explanation, but to no avail.

Well… at least you knew you wouldn’t be trusted to close shop anymore.

I hope you enjoyed reading! If you ever have any feedback at all I’m open to hear it ♡

(I mean, they technically did have dinner… just the dessert was each other)

#soobin #choi soobin #txt #txt fanfic #tomorrow x together #fanfiction #fanfic #soobin x reader #smut #txt smut #x reader #txt post

[sequinsmile-x]

Hi bestie! I was wondering if you considered writing a sequel to “Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too” where Emily meets her parents somewhere by accident and they find out she has kids? It would be interesting to see their reaction 🙂

hiii bestie <3

love this. It always means so much when people want to see more from a little universe I've created. This very quickly turned into a two parter, and part 2 will be up later in the week!

-x-

Some Things Are Meant to Be

She freezes at the sound of the voice she hadn’t heard in years, her shoulders tight as she turns, her jaw clenched as their eyes meet, a face she hadn’t seen in two decades staring right back at her.

A sequel to Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too

Part 1/2

-x-

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: estranged parents

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

October 2013

Emily smiles, her face pressed into her husband’s pillow, as she hears the thundering footsteps of her youngest daughter in the hallway. 

She knew what her family were up to. Aaron had woken her up as he snuck out of bed, whispering Happy Birthday against her hairline before he told her to go back to sleep. She’d wrapped her arms around his pillow and settled deeper into the mattress, but she didn’t get any more sleep. Instead, she’d laid there, content and relaxed as she listened to her husband and their daughters make breakfast for her, their attempts to whisper and keep quiet pointless, their home a place that was always loud and busy. 

She loved it. Loved the happiness that permeated everything, the gentle chaos that came with raising three girls with the man she loved. It was so normal to her, so beautifully ordinary, that her life before them seemed like it happened to somebody else. That it hadn’t been her who had sat in front of her parents just shy of her 23rd birthday and been forced to choose between the life they wanted for her and the one she was living. 

It had been 20 years and she hadn’t regretted it for a moment. Hadn’t had one second where she thought she’d made the wrong decision by walking away from them. Even if things hadn’t worked out with Aaron, if their relationship had fizzled out or collapsed around them, she knew that she wouldn’t have regretted it. Her life would have been her own either way, no longer weighed down by expectations she never would have been able to live up to. 

She closes her eyes just before the bedroom door opens, pretending to be asleep as Mae loudly sneaks into the room. The 5-year-old clambers onto the bed, landing on Emily as she sits next to her, her tiny hands pressing into her mother’s face. 

“Mommy,” Mae stage whispers, louder than she usually was, “Wake up, Mommy.” 

Emily makes a show of opening her eyes and yawning, smiling as her eyes meet those of her daughter, smiling as she pulls her little girl into a hug, Mae’s giggle lost against her chest. 

“Morning, baby,” she says, pressing several kisses in a row to Mae’s head, revelling in the way her youngest still let her love on her this way. Evelyn was beyond it now, claiming at the grand old age of 14 that she was a grown-up, and Hazel was getting there, testing the boundaries of her independence for the first time since she’d turned 10 just a few months ago. 

Emily loved that her girls were independent, that she and Aaron had raised them to be fierce and confident, but she missed when they needed her more than they did now. The long days of early motherhood that seemed to endlessly drag on at the time now behind her. She felt like she constantly went from being proud of who her daughters were becoming to missing when the only place they’d sleep was in her arms. 

Becoming a mother had only made her more angry at her own, somehow even more frustrated at her parents for cutting her off for nothing more than falling in love with a man they thought they were above. She knew, no matter what, that she and Aaron would always make sure their children were loved and that they knew they were.  

They’d never have to doubt it like she had. 

“Happy Birthday, Mommy,” Mae says, tilting her head back to look up at her, her smile wide as their eyes meet.

Emily runs her fingers through her dark hair, smiling as Mae leans into it, “Thank you,” she says, “Are they making breakfast down there?” 

Mae nods, “Daddy says they’ll bring it up to you.” 

She hums contentedly and pulls Mae closer, “In that case, we can just sit here and snuggle until they are finished.” 

“Love you, Mommy,” Mae says, pressing her face into her neck, her fingers tracing the chain of Emily’s necklace. 

Emily rests her cheek on top of Mae’s head and sighs contentedly, “Love you too, sweet girl.” 

___

June 1992

At first, she isn’t sure what’s woken her up. 

She rolls onto her back, yawning as she stretches, the delicious ache in her muscles making her sigh contentedly. She turns her head and smiles when she sees Aaron is still asleep, his mouth slack and his arm heavy across her waist. In the few months they’d been seeing each other she’d rarely woken up before him, so she takes a moment to look at him, to study his features whilst he’s entirely relaxed.

She’s just about to reach out to press her thumb into the space between his eyebrows, the place where they usually creased together, when a knock at the door makes her jump, followed by the door handle rattling.

“Emily? Why is the door locked?” Elizabeth asks, her irritation clear even through the heavy wood. 

“Fuck,” Emily mutters, her hand on Aaron’s shoulder as she shakes it, dragging him from sleep as she stands up, clamouring for her robe so she can cover herself, “Aaron, wake up.” 

“What?” He asks, blinking against the light in the room, his brain not quite catching up with why he was awake. 

“You need to get up, my mother is out there” she says, pulling the covers off of him and walking towards the closet before she opens the door, “Get in the closet.” 

He frowns, and she’s sure she’d find it adorable if her mother wasn’t seconds away from accidentally finding out about the relationship they’d kept hidden, “What, Emily I’m not-”

“Emily,” Elizabeth says, knocking on the door again, “I know you’re in there and I really need to speak to you.” 

Emily looks back at him, her eyes wide, an edge of desperation in them he can’t ignore, “Get in there. Now.” 

He sighs and nods, walking over to the closet and pulling the door closed behind him. Emily makes quick work of tidying up the bed, making sure it only looked like one person had been sleeping in it, and she flattens her hair before she walks over to the door. She gives herself a second before she undoes the lock and pulls the door open, hoping that the smile she gives her mother seems genuine. 

“Mother, sorry I was about to get into the shower,” she says, leaning on the doorframe, “Is everything okay?” 

Elizabeth narrows her eyes and looks past her into the bedroom, her eyebrow raised as she looks back at her daughter, “I just wanted to remind you about tonight.” 

Emily frowns, “Tonight?” 

“The benefit, Emily. The one I’ve been planning for weeks,” Elizabeth says, her arms crossed over her chest as she looks sternly at her daughter, “Your father and I expect you to be there.” 

She sighs and nods, her brain finally catching up with her, “Right. The benefit, of course, I’ll be there.” 

Elizabeth hums, “And remember, be nice to Agent Hotchner.” 

Emily chokes on a laugh and it takes all of her self control to not turn and look at the closet she’d made him stand in, the thin door he was hiding behind nowhere near thick enough to block out her conversation with her mother, “Why…why wouldn’t I be nice to him?” 

“You’re never nice to the security staff,” Elizabeth quips, her eyebrow raised, “And it’s his first one of these he’s working so I’d rather not have you scare someone else off,” she says, “I don’t have the time to find a replacement.” 

She has to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing and she nods as she clears her throat, “I’ll be extra nice to him,” she says, fighting a smile, “I promise.” 

“Anyway, I’ve got to get going. We’ve got plenty to get done before this evening,” Elizabeth says, turning to leave before she pauses, casting one last look back at her daughter, “And please try to run a brush through your hair before this evening, you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge.” 

Emily scoffs as she places her hands on her hair again, trying to flatten it as her mother walks away. She blows out a breath as she steps back into her bedroom, locking the door behind her again before she rests her head against it.

“Can I come out now?” 

She screws her eyes shut and hides a wince, embarrassment at her reaction to hide him coursing through her as she replies, “Yes.” 

For a man who was wearing nothing but the boxers he’d shoved on as he scrambled out of bed, he walks out of the closet with a type of confidence that makes her stomach flip, “That was an interesting way to start the day.” 

“I’m sorry,” she says, pushing herself off of the door and walking towards him, wrapping her arms around him, smiling bashfully as she looks up at him, “I just didn’t want her to find out about us because she found you naked in my bed.” 

He hums as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her so they are chest to chest as he stamps a kiss against her lips. With anyone else, he’s sure he’d feel offended that she’d thrown him out of bed and hidden him, but he knows her relationship with her parents is complicated. He’d seen it first hand, had witnessed the struggle between reality and expectation and both sides, and he knew she liked to keep as much of her life separate from them as possible. 

It was one of the reasons they’d ended up together in the first place. She never invited any of her friends over, forcing herself to be somewhat of a lonely figure, nothing like the fun, intelligent 21-year-old he knew her to be. Her summer at home between her undergrad and masters had started with her isolating herself, eventually becoming so bored she’d started to hang out with him. A permanent, and entirely welcome, distraction as he tried to work. It felt inevitable when they kissed, a press of her lips against his one night after they shared a drink and sad, surface-level, stories about their childhoods. 

Aaron knew he’d remain a secret of hers forever if that’s what she wanted, no matter how impractical that would be. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again, “Although, if we really are going to make a go of this, they are going to have to find out at some point.” 

She groans as she rests her forehead against his shoulder, “I know,” she mutters, pressing a kiss to his bare skin, the action turning into a smile when he shivers, “But not yet.” 

He hooks a finger under her chin and makes him look up at her, “Not yet,” he agrees, kissing the corner of her mouth, smiling when she turns her head to capture his lips in a proper kiss. He can still feel the tension in her shoulders, the anxiety only her parents could cause, and he wants to get rid of it, wants to give her the slow peaceful morning they’d intended to have. “I seem to remember overhearing you saying you were going to be extra nice to me.” 

She smiles devilishly and leads him back to the bed, encouraging him to sit down before she straddles his lap, his hands never leaving her hips. She undoes the robe she’s wearing and lets it fall open before she leans forward, pausing just before her lips touch his. 

“I’ll show you just how nice I can be.” 

___

“Mom,” Evelyn hisses as she makes it to her side, her eyes darting around to see if any of her friends have seen her, “You didn’t have to meet me right outside,” she says, adjusting her book bag over her shoulder, “Everyone else’s parents are meeting them in the parking lot.” 

Emily chuckles and walks alongside her daughter, “Evie, I had to park at Union Station, there’s no way I’m letting you walk there by yourself,” she says, smiling as the teenager rolls her eyes at her, “Besides, you should be grateful it’s me who came to pick you up. Your Dad wanted to get a picture of you outside the Capitol Building.” 

Evelyn shudders at the thought of it, as if she can’t think of anything worse than posing for a photo for her parents, “Why?” 

“Because we’re proud of you,” she says, “It’s not every day your kid gets invited to the Student Government Conference.” 

The irony of Evelyn’s aptitude for and love of politics was not lost on Emily. She’d joined the Student Government in middle school and loved it, and she’d been part of one ever since. She found it fascinating, the ins and outs of the laws and how they were made one of her favourite things to learn. 

Emily often thought that her daughter was the child her mother had always wanted in some ways. Evelyn was just like Emily - she was opinionated, wilful and stubborn, but she was also empathetic and kind and just a little bit wild. They were all traits Elizabeth had hated in Emily, things she’d desperately tried to fix that Emily hadn’t seen the beauty in herself until she saw them in her own daughters, but she thinks her mother would have been a lot more forgiving of them if she’d had the interests that Evelyn did. If they’d shared a love for the politics that had actually been a wedge between them, a gap neither one of them could, or would, cross. 

“It’s not that big a deal.” 

Emily comes to a stop and places her hand on Evelyn’s arm, squeezing gently before she lets go, “Yes, sweetie, it is. We’re very proud of you.” 

Evelyn fights a smile and crosses her arms over her chest, “Thank you, Mom” she replies, looking around to make sure none of her friends have overheard her before she carries on walking, “Do you think that pride will get me pizza tonight?” 

Emily laughs and nods, “I think your dad will let you-”

“Emily?” 

She freezes at the sound of the voice she hadn’t heard in years, her shoulders tight as she turns, her jaw clenched as their eyes meet, a face she hadn’t seen in 20 years staring right back at her. She stands frozen for a moment, stuck between her past and her present, before she feels a hand on her arm.

“Mom?” Evelyn says, her dark eyes full of concern as Emily looks at her, “Are you okay?” 

Emily hears how the woman standing in front of them gasps quietly as Evelyn calls her mom, and she nods and digs her keys out of her pocket, grateful that they are now close enough to the car that she could see it, “I’m fine, go get in the car, honey.” 

Evelyn frowns, looking back and forth between her mother and the familiar looking stranger in front of them, “Mom, what’s-”

“The car, Evelyn,” Emily says, harsher than she means to, something that only registers as hurt flashes across her daughter's face. She sighs and tucks some of Evelyn’s hair behind her ear, “Please,” she says, her voice softer now, “Go get in the car and I’ll come to meet you in a minute.” 

Evelyn flicks her eyes between the two women again before she nods, taking the keys from Emily, flashing a tight smile at her before she turns away, “See you in a minute.” 

Emily watches her go, her eyes fixed on her daughter’s retreating figure, not taking her eyes off of her before she sees her climb into the front passenger seat of the car. It’s only then that Emily turns to look at the woman in front of her, still rooted to the spot.

She looks the same bar a few lines around her eyes. As if two decades hadn’t passed since they’d last seen each other. She clears her throat and clasps her hands in front of her, her fingers automatically curling around her wedding rings, Aaron’s love pressing from the cool metal into her skin. 

When she speaks, she’s proud that her voice doesn’t shake, that she doesn’t give any indication of the war waging within her. 

“Hello, Mother.” 

-x-

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#hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #aaron x emily #emily prentiss fanfiction

[vodika-vibes]

“you’re mine“ for alpha 17 pretty please 😮‍💨🙏🏻

All Mine

Summary: Alpha-17 is a possessive man and everyone knows not to touch when he considers his. It’s unfortunate that the new trainer didn’t get that memo. Well. Unfortunate for him.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Word Count: 1446

Warnings: Attempted SA. It isn't shown in detail, and it's more hinted around, but please be careful if you think it might trigger you.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright. So this is, quite literally, the oldest ask in my inbox and I'm so so so sorry that it took me so long to get to it! Please forgive me!

Alpha-17 stretches his legs out in front of him from where he’s sitting in “his” chair in her office on Kamino. His chair, in the sense that no one else sits in it. Partly because the only time people come to this particular office is when they need tech support.

Not that he minds. It means that he has plenty of time to be alone with his cyare.

And he can never have enough of that.

He watches her work for a moment, her gaze focused on the pile of datapads stacked on the desk in front of her. She mentioned, earlier, that these needed to be formatted for the up and coming cadets, and that she’d be working on it all day.

It is her way of informing him that she’s not going to be able to give him a lot of attention while she’s working. Her way of suggesting that he spend the day doing something more worthwhile than watching her work.

Alpha knows that she worries about him getting bored.

As if he could ever get bored when she’s in his line of sight. Even if she’s wearing the formless uniform that the Kaminoans require.

“You’re staring at me, Alpha.” Her voice is light, though she doesn’t look up from her work.

“You don’t want me to stare then you shouldn’t be looking so pretty.” Alpha counters.

She finally lifts her gaze and shoots him an amused look, “Alpha, I’m wearing a formless uniform, and my hair is pulled into a bun, and I’m not even wearing make-up.”

“And yet you’re still stunning, if you were wearing make-up and did your hair no one would ever get any work done around here.” Alpha teases with a crooked grin.

“You’re not getting any work done anyway,” She points out, with her own teasing smile.

“It won’t kill the cadets to wait a little bit before their training starts.”

“They’re not cadets, Alpha, they’re up and coming ARCs and you’re going to give them anxiety.”

“Good. It’ll keep them alive.”

“Alpha!”

He grins at her, “Don’t worry, cyare. I’ll get to them before they get into any trouble.” She looks doubtful, and his grin widens, “What? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, but I also know you, Alpha-17.”

He chuckles and pushes to his feet to cross the room in several long strides, before ducking his head to drop a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll see you this afternoon, cyare.”

She turns her head to favor him with a warm smile, “It’s a date.”

Alpha chuckles and takes her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles, before he releases her and saunters out the room, pausing only long enough to tug his helmet over his head.

Wouldn’t do for the little shits to see him in a good mood, after all. He does have a reputation to keep.

Several, very long, hours later—somehow the ARC Cadets seem to get more and more annoying by the day— Alpha keys in the door code to his cyare’s suite and stops just in the door to strip off his armor.

She might not mind having his armor pressed against her, but he doesn’t like the bruises that she gets from the hard ridges of his armor. Not to say that he minds bruising her, because nothing could be further from the truth, but he wants to do the bruising manually.

Does that make him an asshole? Yeah. Probably.

“Cyare, I’m back!”

She pokes her head around a corner, and flashes him a bright smile, “Welcome home, I’m making pasta for dinner.”

“How you manage to work all day and still have time to cook a homemade dinner is beyond me, cyar’ika.” Alpha says with a wry smile as he walks further into the suite and follows her into her “kitchen”, which is really more of a kitchenette, as he’s heard her complain on more than one occasion.

“I am a talented woman,”

“You’ll get no arguments from me,” Alpha agrees, as he bumps his hip against the counter to watch her work. She changed out of her work clothes, and is wearing leggings and one of his shirts, which is curious.

Normally she dons tank tops when she’s relaxing at home, or tee shirts. Never long sleeves.

“Hm...what’s this about?” Alpha asks as he lightly plucks the collar of the shirt, “Since when do you wear long sleeves when you’re relaxing?”

There’s a flicker of something on her face. Not fear, because she’s never been afraid of him in her life, but uncertainty maybe.

Alpha’s eyes narrow, “What happened?”

“Don’t lose your cool-”

“Cyare. What happened?”

She hesitates a moment longer, and then sighs and sets the wooden spoon down on a paper towel. “Before I tell you, I need you to know that I’m fine. Colt stopped...well. Colt helped.”

“Not. Helping.”

“Sorry, sorry.” She tugs up the sleeve of her shirt, revealing a series of bruises on her wrist and up her arm.

Bruises in the shape of hands.

Gently, Alpha takes her arm in his hands and he brushes his fingers over the bruises. They’re smaller than his hands, smaller than any of his brothers too. “What happened?”

“Well, you know how the Kaminoans reached out to a new Mandalorian trainer?”

Something unhappy slides across his face, “Yes.”

“Well...he thought...um...he felt-” She trails off, “Colt stopped him. That’s the important thing.”

Alpha doesn’t say anything for a long time.

“Are you mad?”

“I’m kriffing pissed,” Alpha finally replies, though, as his free hand comes up to caress her cheek, it’s so very gentle, “But not at you. Never at you.”

She presses her cheek into his hand, “I didn’t do anything to encourage-”

“I know, ad’ika. I know.” His voice is low and reassuring before he leans in and lightly brushes his lips against hers, “Why don’t you let me treat this, before we eat dinner, hm?”

She scans his face, “You’re not going to do anything...dramatic? Are you?”

His smile is soft and reassuring, “I will react in a very reasonable way.”

“Reasonable for me, or reasonable for you?” She asks.

Alpha hums thoughtfully, before he brushes his thumb across her cheek, “You’re mine.” There’s a hint of something quietly possessive in his voice, “Don’t worry, ad’ika. He won’t touch you again.”

“...you’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”

Alpha meets her gaze evenly, “Do you really want me to answer that?”

She’s quiet for a long time, and then she smiles softly, “Would you like garlic bread with dinner?”

“I would love some garlic bread with dinner.” Alpha replies, before he drops one more kiss against her lips.

Alpha treats her injuries with a gentle reverence that makes her look at him with adoring eyes, and he remains at her side while they eat dinner, and watch a holo.

In fact, he doesn’t slip out of her quarters until she’s fast asleep in bed, curled around his pillow.

Only then does he drop a feather light kiss to her temple, pull on his armor, and slip out of her suite to deal with the situation.

He runs into Colt first. The younger man straightens and stares at him for a moment, before he produces a blaster and offers it to Alpha, “This blaster vanished from inventory six weeks ago.”

Alpha chuckles as he takes the blaster, “And it’s going to vanish again after tonight?”

Colt shrugs, “It happens.” He steps around Alpha, and then pauses, “Also, there’s been a bug in security. Everything is down for the foreseeable future.”

“Good man.”

“We look after our own, vod.” Colt’s smirk is dark, “Eventually they’ll figure it out. Shoot me a comm when we finish. I’ll help you clean up.”

“Copy that.” The two men go in different direction, Alpha heading deeper into the Trainer’s wing, while Colt headed towards the Cadet Barracks.

The next day, it’s reported that the new trainer has run off, taking all of his belongings and a crate of weapons from storage. It’s also reported that he sabotaged security so no one would see him escape.

When Alpha hears the news, he’s sitting next to her on her bed dressed in his armor.

A smile, slow and dark, slides across his face, and then he’s pressing a gentle kiss against her lips, “Have a good day, Alpha.” She says, soft and sweet, as though she’s not aware that he murdered a man for her the night before.

“I intend to, ad’ika.” He presses one more kiss to her lips, and then he’s gone, it’s time that the ARC cadets learn what it means to be Vod’e.

#star wars #tcw #alpha-17 x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #tw: sa #tw: attempted assault #answered asks

[armor-eater]

Every fandom should have a cowboy AU so here are some of my ideas:

Laois is the leader of a small group of wondering cowboys. They mostly kinda just wonders around and do odd jobs. His gang sometimes gets called Outlaws but Laois is unaware of this. His main weapon is a pistol but he carries a lot of bladed weapons like throwing knives. Tends to lose track of what they’re supposed to be doing because he’s always trying to learn about any animal they come across. Takes care of the horses and any dogs.

Falin is still the healer of the group and that tends to lead to people underestimating her. She’s the ‘talker’ and unofficial second in command, through she low key tries to make Marcille do the talking. Her main weapon is a shotgun and her back up is a axe. No one ever seems to think she’d use them and always gets surprised when she starts blasting/swinging.

Marcille didn’t want to join a gang but she’s flat broke and needs money to do her research plus she hadn’t wanted to leave Falin alone with Laois (this is before she started to get along with him more) she’s the least experienced of the gang and tends to get grossed out on the realities of the Wild West but she sticks it out. She’s the best shot with a rifle that most people have ever seen but refuses to carry a melee weapon because the idea kinda grosses her out.

#laois touden #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #marcille donato #falin touden #cowboys !!!! #kabru thinks they’re a group of outlaws but really it’s just that Laois is bad at picking jobs #he doesn’t double check that the people paying him aren’t breaking the law

[all2angels]

DOIN' TIME | ms. way x reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble but i got carried away xD!? orginal ask sent said secretary but i changed it to boss position bc it was hotter in my head but def let me know if y'all want a secretary one!!

warnings: AFAB READER but gender neutral throughout, cnc, inappropriate workplace, dom!gerard way, she/her pronouns for gerard. there's also gon be a few grammar mistakes (wrote dis at 2am)

You enter the office building, running a few minutes late. Rushing to the elevator, you didn’t even notice your boss get in the same elevator as you. It took for you to take a few deep breaths to notice her, standing with perfect posture and holding her briefcase with both her hands placed in front of her. You hold your breath, now feeling a little embarrassed. 

“L/n,” Gerard speaks unexpectedly breaking the awkward silence between you. You look over at her, noticing she still has her sunglasses on and iconic gloves on. “I’d like to speak to you in my office later. Come over when you’re settled in. And please, for the love of God knock first.” 

The elevator doors opened just when she ended her sentence. You got off, walking slower to make sure she’d go in before you. You swallowed the lump that formed inside your throat. 

As you walk to your cubicle, you settle down some of your stuff and mentally prepare for what is about to go down in her office. Despite Ms. Way’s calm appearance, she had a demon inside of her that was terrifying when it came out. You’ve seen her scream at some of your co-workers when their work wasn’t up to her standards, you were worried you were going to be the next victim of this. Other than that, you were worried you were going to get fired since you haven’t been performing that well. 

You nervously walked over to her office, palms sweaty but you tried to keep a cheerful workplace smile. You knock three times and open her door. “G… Good morning…!” you stutter, mentally cursing yourself for seeming so nervous already. 

Ms. Way asks you to take a seat on the chair in front of her desk, but she doesn’t take a seat on hers. She notices your nervousness and feels how tense you are. “You’re shaking, dear…” she whispers, her voice low. “And I need you- to relax.” she gently places her hand on your shoulder, and her gloved hand goes down to undo the buttons of your blouse. 

You breathe heavily, frozen in place. This is wrong. This is not allowed, this is inappropriate. But you didn’t stop her, no, you wanted to desperately please your boss. 

After she removes your blouse, she takes your arm and pulls you up so that you’ll stand, you follow. She then pushes you to sit on her desk, ordering you to lie down. You do as you’re told. 

“So tense, you gotta loosen up, baby.” baby. Oh god, you could orgasm just by her voice. Her covered hand moves down to your core. She teases you through your underwear and you hear her chuckle at the way you squirm at her touch. She carefully removes her underwear. 

"Ms- Ms. way..." you beg. You don't even know what you're begging for, for her to touch you, or for her to stop? Because you didn't want to get caught like this, especially since it seemed too easy to get caught through the gaps in the curtains of her windows. 

Her gloved thumb starts to tease your sensitive clit, and you flinch. You whine, wanting more sensation, more stimulation. She smirks down at you, finally giving you what you want and inserting two of her covered fingers in your core. The gloves made it easier to slide it, but it also made it feel that much fuller. You hold onto the edges of her desk, holding in a moan as you feel her start to pump her fingers in you and play with your breasts. 

Her fingers move faster, you feel your body start to build up. You beg for her, whispering praises of how good you feel, and how incredible your boss is to allow you to feel this way until you come undone on her fingers with a loud whimper. You try to catch your breath, holding onto her arm for dear life. She gives you a soft kiss before picking up your underwear and tossing it to her bottom drawer. 

"that'd be all," she says, shoo-ing you away from her office. 

#i feel like this is so bad but it's a waste if i dont post it WHATEVER #gerard way #mcr x reader #mcr smut #my chemical romance x reader #all2angels #gerard way smut #gerard way x reader #secretary gerard #secretary gerard way

[twanettee]

#sooo here’s vertin #reverse 1999 #fanart #I was thinking of drawing regulus #but you know I also like the necrologist and I’m not sure why #but she doesn’t fit the aesthetic over here #oh well #I can draw whatever I like #right? #also people that I said I’d draw stuff for I have not forgotten that #I will stop playing around… soon #anyway I kept thinking #the rain is supposed to fall upwards #fly upwards? #yeah #so in that case would her palm be facing down… or would she not even bother to feel the rain since she’s felt it and seen it before? #would she bother looking up? #somehow I think she’d still look upwards #it seems like she’d still want to take it in #over and over again #and it’d hurt her each time #not physically like everyone else #digital art

[fabledshadow]

Can I just say how much I love that Gloria is actually good at leading/managing people. Like, cooking is a skillset, so is being an effective people manager. She does both really well! I just love that it is not an informed trait, we get multiple examples of her being a great leader.

#midnight burger #gloria midnight burger #like caspar absolutely does not want to be in charge #ava would except she’d actually hate it #leif also does not want to be calling the shots #and the mucklewains live in a box #for all that effie is still a great second in command #so it seems like it would ‘default’ to gloria #except gloria is actually really good at it #she takes care of her people calls them on their shit knows their strengths and weaknesses

[sieglinde-freud]

been thinking about the tharjabelle family unit a lot. i think maribelle spent five thousand years scraping through ye olden baby names textbooks in her family’s library and was like “We shall name our daughter Noire! It’s a lovely name, a reference to your love of the dark arts and [wikipedia etymology section] while still being classy. Just gorgeous. Now, what shall we name our son?” and tharja goes “brady.” mari’s like ???? fym brady what the hell is that and tharja goes “oh its traditional plegian” “Oh, really!? 😄” “no”

#ann plays awakening #domestic tharjabelle i am molding you in my mind #i still have no idea why on earth maribelle named her son brady #there’s nothing wrong with that name. bradys one of my favs #but im lookin at maribelle and im thinkin ur kids name should be remington charlesworth von themis the fourth #or some shit #i mean this positively #i love maribelle #but i can only conclude she was NOT the one who named him #she wouldnt… #unless its like a nickname. what could brady be short for #i dunno. bradworth? thats not a name. #maybe its his #WHATEVER anyways tharja named him. in my head <3 #also and these tags r j becoming my tharjabella hcs extended edition #but also idk i think maribelle wouldnt actually mind if brady was a plegian name. i think she’d like it actually #in game she seems not all that knowledgeable about plegia and is rather hostile #for obvious reasons. i wouldnt like the ppl that kidnapped me either #but i think taking a plegian wife would let her want to learn more about it and especially since later on chrom starts to bridge the gap #between their nations a bit more and by the end of the game while im sure things arent GREAT theyre probably on the way to gettin better #and i just think she’d want tharja to feel more at home in ylisstol so the whole gesture would j be sweet :) #not sure how much tharja would actually care but she’d probably appreciate the effort #wish i had more info on house themis but whatever. i’ll start makin shit up idgaf #fuck you awakening world building

[designernishiki]

im at the haruka + akiyama duo section of 5 now and i love it <3 both for the uncle/niece sort of dynamic they have and because i fucking love me a murder mystery baby

#weirdly very good choice of character to help haruka solve the crime and all that considering he #went to fucking law school amazingly enough #like. he’d actually know what the fuck he’s talking about despite how incompetent he seems on the surface fjddcjendgj #he’s actually got CREDENTIALS #anyway yeah also their dynamic is just very sweet and I’m so fucking glad two major characters finally got to meet like god I’ve been #WAITING #rambling #y5 #im reserving my thoughts about mirei and that whole… situation…….until I have all the context possible at this point #cause imma be real I didn’t see what happened to her comin #so. god knows what else I haven’t seen yet that I’ll need to consider #so far though. as much as they’re emphasizing a lot right now her work ethic and dedication and etc for haruka to elevate her career and #etc etc etc and that being a very sentimental and kindhearted thing and whatnot. imma be real I still find it mostly bullshit #I mean. even mirei herself could’ve maybe believed she was doing all that for haruka’s sake alone but that doesn’t erase the fact that mirei #had a plan for haruka since day fuckin one (before that probably) and it had nothing to do with caring for her and her personal freedoms or #enjoyment in life or anything- she elevated haruka because she projected onto her BIG TIME and needed to redeem herself after failing #in the industry by living vicariously though a mini-mirei conditioned to think she wants all the things mirei wants #and so on and so on. like #it seems really sweet and giving of her that she’d do so much to take out that loan and what have you. but once you step back for a moment #and go wait a second. this isn’t what haruka even wanted in the first place. she hasn’t had personal freedom at all the past six months and #mirei taking her shopping and letting her choose between some clothes on her own (ONLY allowing designer brand though. obviously) #is an effective way of making haruka believe she has free will and is doing what she honestly wants to do #because god forbid she realizes that- yeah mirei has sacrificed a lot for me- but I never asked her to and becuase of it now I have massive #responsibilities and expectations to uphold. after all- how could she live with herself if she rejected what mirei worked so hard for #especially after mirei. you know. suddenly dies. (not saying that was part of her manipulation or something just saying that it plays into #it conveniently well- haruka REALLY couldn’t live with herself now if she didn’t win this contest and debut) #annnnyway. it’s very interesting. mirei is… very interesting #I said I wasn’t gonna comment on her yet but. oops

[daydreamerdrew]

Tales of Suspense (1959) #95

#I was shocked to see that Sharon was on such the same page as Steve #saying that she’s been seeing him in her dreams #meaning that like him she’s taking them to be fated to be together #she’d said before that she felt that they were linked together #but that came across differently to me because it was said in the heat of the moment in a battle #so this in its calmer context was still surprising to me #then declaring ‘There can never be anyone else for me- except you!’ #is soo much #it’s not exactly clear if she’s aware that he thinks she’s another woman reborn #which is where his intensity is coming from #her intensity seems to be coming from heavily romanticizing the picture of Steve that Peggy painted for her in her stories #and growing up with that as her image of her dream guy #I like that because Steve and Sharon are both so dedicated to their work #going out like a normal couple would is a big deal for both of them #the fact that Steve wanted to /marry/ Sharon and live the rest of their lives together before he’s even learned her name #or spent enough time with her where they’d actually have to talk about the fact that he doesn’t know her name #is of course insane #I actually believe Sharon when she says the reason she can’t is because of her work and not because she doesn’t want to #and I actually really like that conflict and the fact that he doesn’t then pressure her to quit #despite the emphasis in his language in prior stories that she’s a woman #like saying how dare enemies of Shield attack a ‘defenseless girl’ of that the other men of Shield will help her when her mission goes awry #which inherently delegitimizes her #and oh my gosh- this man can make /anything/ about Bucky #anyway- when he gets all excited about spending the rest of his life with Sharon- this man is having some kind of episode #marvel #steve rogers #sharon carter #my posts #comic panels

[blueish-bird]

new jjk chapter is… uh…

#tired sigh #also called it #also what the fuck is your damage sukuna. please leave #boo you’re getting in the way of my romcom #jjk spoilers #jjk meta #feels like obligatory shounen conflict escalation like. this doesn’t mean shit to me. #maybe this would feel more resonant if we’d gotten more yuuji and megumi bro time. please. give them bro time. #‘his spirit would break’ SHOW US THAT SHIT #we got some insight into Megumi’s love for his sister a ways back in the manga but we barely even got to actually meet her?? #idk I just think it needs more consistent throughlines. there’s So Much All The Time going on rn #the constant high stakes are just. so boring. I want to spend time on casual/non-fighting intros and interactions. #I still love hana’s outfit #also she’d better not be killed off because she seems like a character that could be really interesting and emotionally resonant! #I feel her idealized/parasocial relationship with a guy who did a rly meaningful thing for her when they were kids #but also. bestie. there’s No Way Megumi would ever stand like that frjgdkf #sukuna’s got that ‘let’s take ibuprofen together’ theater major type of posture #fucking loser #jjk makes me feel hopeless about the writing and lost potential #what’s on the page is in theory exciting. but reading it is just. disappointing. #reading ​csm and jjk are kind of opposite experiences for me lmao #my thoughts #meposting