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#to step it up. form a team. do something
plusultraetc · 4 months
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Thinking a lot about pro heroes who became pros after All Might's debut but then had to witness his final fight and adjust amidst the fall out of that. 'Uh oh! The defining pillar of your life, career, and society is gone' kind of thoughts
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hecksupremechips · 4 days
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Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over
Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰
#its like okay listen i understand the basic math of any persona game they say things and everything they say is actually#very bad when you think about it for more than 3 seconds#like what theyre intending to do with the death of this character is be like oh no your sad friend dies tragically thats so saddddd#but that doesnt mean you cant live a wonderful life full of meaning you cant let grief consume you life is beautiful awagga#and i guess shinji is a specific character whos used cuz i guess its more tragic that he never realized he was worthy of life and shit#and i guess its also like ‘dont be like this guy who let grief consume him and then died you gotta Be Different’#which i dont. love. that last part cuz if you think about shinji and what led him down this road#its like. of course hes depressed! he accidentally killed a woman with a child when he was 16!#he himself is an orphan and he just made some other kid an orphan as well and it happened cuz his persona went out of control#which very much can translate to ‘this must mean im dangerous and can hurt everyone if im not kept under control’#so of course he isolated himself and believed he was evil and became suicidal like who wouldnt feel that way#like am i supposed to be mad he left sees and took drugs cuz uh while i dont think isolation or Evil Drug is good for his mental health#i dont think him continuing to fight in sees is something he can just easily do again given how he killed someone like he shouldnt have to#be a part of this thing anymore like how would he even safely get castor to not do that??? he cant kill more people on accident!#so yeah like using shinji as an example of bad coping mechanisms is already just. a big fucking oof to me like it just feels like the game#is saying he shouldve gotten over it and simply not be suicidal and stayed on the team. idk if thats the intent but uh it wouldnt faze me#cuz persona games are notoriously awful at writing characters who are traumatized and abused#but what makes everything even worse is how the game kinda like. acts like shinjis death is a stepping stone#like we’re supposed to use it as a wake up call and understand the stakes but keep going on anyways#and akihiko and Ken get. ‘great character development’ according to the game telling you they have now developed#but damn all akihiko is is just repressed he cries for 3 seconds and then is like I SHOULD MAN UP and then neglects a depressed child#shinjis dying words are words to live by now even though they piss me the fuck off like girl am i crazy HES FUCKING#HES TELLING ME NOT TO CRY OVER HIM BECAUSE HE SHOULD BE DEAD ACTUALLY AND THIS IS A GOOD THING ACTUALLY#like if the game wants us to still find meaning in life despite losing someone it just really hurts that shinji has to die for that to work#apparently. cuz the character i see myself in is shinji. not some perfect prettyboy who does everything perfectly and has 4 gfs#his death seems like a punishment for bad behavior. the bad behavior being of course depression and drug use. and im simply supposed to be#better than that if i want to live. and we dont get to form a connection with him cuz thats gayyyyy#and his death is like a NOBLE HEROIC SACRIFICE idk its just such bullshit to me i hate it so bad#how is killing a suicidal guy and then treating it as admirable that he said ‘this is how it should be’ supposed to make me feel#makes me feel sick personally and it ruins the entire game’s theme to me because its fucking shallow and the story is bad and im tired
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lxclerc · 1 month
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𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 ─ 𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏
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summary: where oscar has done everything in his power to make his feelings for you as obvious as possible, but you are simply quite clueless to the poor boy’s advances pairing: oscar piastri x driver!reader warning: fluff, oblivious reader
note: i wrote this in two hours and it's purely for fun. i did not bother thinking about how realistic this could be at all so it's a bit ridiculous i think
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sometimes, oscar just wants to run into a wall and knock himself out. 
maybe that would shake his brain enough for it to formulate a plan for you to finally realize all the oh so awfully obvious hints he’s been dropping. he’s been so obvious that the entire world knows it; all the other drivers, mechanics from practically every team, reporters, fans. literally everybody has picked up on his pitiful attempts at catching your attention but you. 
or maybe he needed to push you down a flight of stairs and knock you out for you to finally figure out that he likes you as more than friends. because at this point, it’s starting to get ridiculous. he’s been pursuing you since f3. in every ridiculous challenge with prema to every track walks and everything in between, he’s done everything possible to show you that he likes you, fancies you, absolutely besotted to the sound of your voice. 
that never seems to discourage him though, if anything, it only makes him like you more. robert once joked that you’d put a spell on him and oscar can’t quite deny it if he’s being honest. 
“y/n, wait up!” he called to you right before the driver’s parade, leaving lando behind him, who whispered a quick good luck to him. 
hearing your name made you turn to him, an instant smile on your face that made oscar’s heart violently lurch forward. most of the time, you preferred to keep your hair in a tight ponytail, wanting all the little strands out of your face when you’re on track but this time, strands had fallen off the paintail, framing your face in such a perfect way that knocks the breath out of oscar’s lungs. 
you’re perfect in his eyes all the time of course; even in the few times you’d pushed him off track, but there’s something so ethereal about you when your smile is for him. 
charles, your teammate, and lewis whom you were previously talking to subtle stepped away from you in order to give the two of you a moment. charles throws oscar a small thumbs up with that maniacal smile of his whenever he’s fortunate enough to be able to watch oscar absolutely get crushed by y/n’s cluelessness every time he tries and drops a hint to his feelings.
“hey, osc,” you greet, easily falling into step with him. 
“hey, how’s the down under treating you?” he asked, trying to act casually as he buried his hands in his pockets. 
he winced at his own words. how’s the down under treating you? really? 
at least you seem to find it amusing as you award him with a chuckle, hand instinctively wrapping around his arm the way girls do when they’re really comfortable with you and don’t want you to get lost in the crowd. you only ever do it to him (and he’s made sure to check) and it never fails to quite literally turn him to mush. 
“you know i’ve adored it!” you gush. you love australia, this is no secret to everyone , so much so that you’ve joked about it being your second home race, to which oscar have always enthusiastically nodded in agreement to. “charles, alexandra and i went cafe hopping all around melbourne yesterday.”
oscar hummed, trying to hide the hint of disappointment in his face that you hadn’t asked him to accompany you like the few times in the past but he knows that you and charles’ girlfriend have formed a very close friendship. “is that so? i’m glad you had fun.”
you smile up at him. “how about you? i reckon it’s nice being back home, isn’t it?”
“absolutely. the family’s been asking about you, by the way.” he just wanted you to keep talking. you could talk his ears off for hours and oscar would never complain. 
you face instantly light up at that. “i’ll make sure to drop by the mclaren garage later. i miss nicole.”
“she missed you too,” he says before clearing his throat. “so um, are you immediately flying out tomorrow?” 
you shook your head. “no, i’m planning to stay for a couple more days.”
“oh good.” he thanked god his hands were buried in his pockets so you can’t see how much they’re shaking. “you’re free tomorrow then?”
you nod and he nods back at you awkwardly. “yeah.”
“oh good.” stop. stop. he already said that. “do you want to check out that restaurant we went to during f2 maybe?” 
your face lights up again and your hand that’s holding on to his arm squeezes it ever so slightly in excitement. “oh absolutely. maybe i can bring charles and alex along and you can bring lando and logan.”
oscar wanted the ground to just swallow him up. he could probably shout i love you at you while staring directly into your eyes and you’d think he’s talking to someone behind you. one time in f2, he wrote all his feelings for you in a note and gave it to you only for you to hand it straight to robert without even glancing at it thinking he just wanted for you to pass it along. another time, he spent hours and hours trying to gather the courage to wrap his arm around your shoulder only for you to grinned up at him and wrap your arm around logan’s shoulder thinking he’d just wanted the three of you to huddle around. oscar is running out of ideas if he’s being honest. 
“that sounds…fun, but i was hoping, maybe, it could just be — you know, the two of us. like old times,” he manages to let out. 
“poor oscar,” lando says as he, charles, max and lewis watch your interaction. 
“oscar should just kiss her already,” max said.
charles cackled at that, shaking his head. “she’d probably think it’s a friendly kiss.” 
“maybe he just needs to shake her shoulder and scream im stupidly in love with you right on her face,” lewis joked as they kept watching the two of you. 
oscar watched as you let go of his arm, leaning onto the railing for the parade. you seem to take your precious time twisting the cup of your water bottle open and torturing oscar at the way your throat constricted as you drank water before you turned back to him with a smile. “yeah, sure, osc. i’d love that.”
oscar returned back to the group of boys with a dopey smile on his face, high off of you as lando slapped him on the shoulder in a small congratulations. 
charles couldn’t help but laugh at the look of the younger driver. “y/n’s broken him, i think.”
logan tried to contain his amusement as his australian best friend fell on his hotel room’s couch with his face buried in his hands, groaning in frustration and looking red in the face. oscar wore a loose white button up with a dark pair of jeans. he’d even worn his nice shoes for the occasion, wanting to be as presentable as possible as he picked you up from your hotel room to see you in the prettiest sundress in the most beautiful shade of blue that contrasted perfectly with your skin. 
the two of you ate and laughed and walked around with you holding on to his arm as oscar gathered the courage all night to tell you how he felt. 
“and then what happened?” logan asked as oscar groaned, frustratedly running his hands through his hair. 
“i told her i love her,” he muttered to himself and you smiled at him with that beautiful smile of yours.
“that’s great, osc!” logan tried to cheer him up, clapping him on the back as he remained hunched over the couch. “what did she say?” 
that seems to be a sore spot as oscar only groaned louder, petulantly kicking his shoes off. he can’t quite fathom how such a perfect night turned to him crashing in his best mate’s room so he can vent. 
“she said, and i quote ‘aw, osc. i love you too. you’re one of my best friends.’ and then i just about died on the spot.” 
logan winced at that, his hand now rubbing on oscar’s shoulder in comfort. “well, maybe next time the wording should be ‘i’m in love with you’?”
but oscar only groaned again. “this is a lost cause. best friend? is that all i am?” oscar starts his rant. “am i just one the many best friends in her life? will we drift apart after we both retire? at this point, i’d count myself lucky if i ever get invited to her wedding. maybe if i want to push my luck, i could be the fucking godfather of her kids.” 
and logan only winced again because he never even thought someone could be that clueless and oblivious.
“you look beautiful, y/n,” oscar tells you as he passes you by the media pen, ignoring the cameras and lando’s knowing grin. 
“thanks, osc. you look quite handsome yourself.” a dust of pink covers your cheeks as you smile at him, hand reaching to squeeze his lightly as you pass him by, being led by your pr team. 
for a moment, oscar freezes on the spot, unable to stop the way all his blood rushed to his cheeks and the smile that stretched across his lips. 
“mate, pull yourself together,” lando teases, pushing oscar forward to get him out of what lando dubs as the ‘y/n l/n induced lovesick daze’. 
a reporter who’d seen the entire interaction couldn’t help but laugh as she said; “y/n truly is quite a sight, isn’t she?”
oscar didn’t think his cheeks could get anymore red as he nodded. “she always has been the most beautiful girl.”
lando playfully rolled his eyes as he and oscar continued on. if he was being honest with himself, even he is getting tired with the constant pining between you and oscar. the boy could scream at the top of his lungs how in love he is with you and you’d still think it’s all platonic. this entire thing was getting a bit too pitiful for both of your friends to watch.
which is why charles and lando have taken it upon themselves to finally force you to see what’s right in front of you. oscar loved you too much to even think about putting you in any form of uncomfortable situation even if it comes at his own expense, thankfully for lando and charles, they don’t share the same sentiment and so the two got to planning. 
it was simple enough really. lando grabbed oscar by his collar, dragging him all over the paddock towards the ferrari motorhome.
“lando,” oscar whined behind him. “what the fuck are you doing?”
“trust me, mate, this is for your own good,” said his teammate, ignoring all the cameras that had gathered around them, following along. 
“can’t you at least let me walk on my own?” oscar complained again, hunched over as lando quite literally dragged him by his mclaren shirt’s collar. 
lando shook his head. “nope. i legitimately cannot handle this not going the way it’s meant to again.” 
in the distance, both mclaren boys heard you voice your complaints to charles as your teammate held you on the shoulder to keep you in place, a group of mechanics and engineers huddle around the two of you, watching in curiosity, 
finally, lando let go of oscar, allowing him to stand properly as the younger boy threw a glare at him while fixing his shirt. then he found himself face to face with you, confusion all over your face as it finally dawned on him what this is all about. 
“oscar?” you asked, looking between him and lando along with the group that had accumulated on their way to ferrari. “what are you all doing here?”
lando and charles folded their arms over their chest as charles motioned towards the two of you. “we figured the only way for you to finally get it is if there’s an audience.”
“get what?” you asked again and oscar, palms already sweating in front of you and looking as though he’d rather get struck by lightning awkwardly cleared his throat. 
“well get on to it, oscar,” lando says though his accent makes oscar’s name sound like oscah and oscar almost wanted to punch him there and then. 
again, oscar awkwardly cleared his throat as you finally face him. “y/n, i have to tell you something.”
you motioned for him to continue. “okay. what is it, osc?”
“i don’t know how else to tell you this without being upfront about it so—”
“what’s going on here?” and at the moment, fred vasseur stepped into the scene, confusion all over his face as he found practically half the paddock inside his motorhome, all of them crowding around you and oscar. 
everyone groaned, charles threw his hands up in frustration and lando wanted to bang his head against the table. “fred, you’re my boss, but please stop talking.”
fred was just about to say something else when charles physically dragged him to his side to shut him up. 
you turned back to oscar, encouraging him to keep talking even though you would have preferred more privacy. 
“i like you a lot,” he finally blurts out. “ever since f3. no, way before that. ever since karting.”
you smile at him kindly. “i like you too, oscar. i told you, you’re one of my best friends—”
every one groaned, cutting you off and oscar shook his head. 
“no, y/n. you don’t get it. i don’t just like you. i’m very much in love with you,” he emphasized, remembering logan’s words about wording it properly as he took her hand in his shaky ones. “like…i want to spend my life with you kind of in love with you.”
you eyes widened in surprise and a part of oscar had thought that maybe you were just in complete denial the entire time but he realized now that you truly, absolutely had no idea about his feelings. he doesn’t know which one is worse if he’s being honest with himself. 
“well, why didn’t you tell me, osc?” you ask gently. 
“love,” he starts softly, the nickname effortlessly rolling off his tongue. “i can’t count anymore how many times i’ve told you and how many times i’ve tried to tell you and how many times i tried to show you.”
“i never noticed.” for a moment, you seem completely dumbfounded and he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips at the adorable way your mouth parted in surprised. you’re adorable, beautiful, gorgeous and every other adjective even if you unintentionally made his life hell the past few years. 
“that’s alright,” he reassures you.
you couldn’t help but smile shyly at him as you squeezed his hand. “well, if it makes a difference, i’m very much in love with you as well. like…i want to spend the rest of my life with you kind of in love.”
at that, he laughed again, pulling you towards him as your lips crashed together.
and everyone fucking cheered at that.
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general tag list: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq @the6ccnsp6cyy @t-nd-rfoot @navixfr @xjval @gridbunny @sunf1ower16 @lord-sharl-perceval @callsign-scully @saturnsrinqs @darleneslane @nmw-am @stopeatread
let me know if you guys want to be added to the general tag list or a specific driver's tag list or even if you want to be removed from the tag list because i get how annoying consistently getting tagged is.
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ssahotchnerr · 2 months
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girl i am BEGGING you to write a hotch story with his beard and reader doesnt know he has it because he never told her and when he comes back shes more in love with him!!! you can take it any direction you want
off guard
hehehe 🤭 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, heavy suggestiveness, fluff and bearded aaron 😵‍💫<3
after what felt like forever, came the long awaited knock on the door.
"finally." you breathed out as you threw the door open, immediately tucking yourself into aaron's chest and wrapping your arms around his middle.
the longer he was in your hold, the more you tightened your arms - as if you would blink and he'd be right back in pakistan, miles and miles away from you yet again.
it was late, or early depending on how you looked at it. the moment you received the message aaron was back in the states - prematurely and under urgent circumstances - you had insisted the second he had wrapped up, no matter the time, to come directly and strictly to your apartment.
lucky for you, he had already planned on doing so regardless.
"god i missed you." aaron sighed out in relief just as much as you, the empty void in his heart filling at last, making him feel whole again.
he had spent countless nights fantasizing of you being in his arms, the feeling near and distant simultaneously, as if he could reach out and grasp it. for the first month overseas, he had difficulty sleeping even, so used to sleeping beside you - the familiar weight of you laid on him, matching his breathing to yours, or the fact you were simply near.
the longing for you had been torturous. and at last here you were, right where you belonged.
"i almost can't believe it," you mumbled into his t-shirt, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "five months was too long. too, too long."
you loosened your hold, just enough to peer up at him, just now getting a look at him. however, you found yourself taken aback, any eased, impending cries halting at once.
it was your aaron - your loving, wonderful aaron - staring back at you, but it didn't look like him.
his hair was longer, his body a bit more lean, but the major difference; a beard graced his face.
you've seen aaron with some stubble - not shaving during a weekend off, or his occasional five-o-clock shadow. but that was the result of a mere few days. this was months in the making, and it wasn't unwelcome in the slightest.
endless words could describe the sight before you, but your mind and mouth had run both dry. it was hot, to put it bluntly.
"jack hates it too." aaron admitted as his hands fell to your waist - not daring to part contact, mistaking your hesitancy for dislike. "i was going to shave it, but you did say to come right over-"
"hey- no." you blurted out, blinking up at him. "who said i hated it?"
his eyebrows furrowed, surprised. "you don't?"
"absolutely not," you insisted, looking almost offended at the proposition. you touched his cheek, feeling the coarse hair under your soft fingertips and igniting something deep within you. "quite the opposite, actually."
"really?" a pleased smirk formed on his face, his eyes darkly intrigued and amused.
"just when i thought you couldn't get more attractive." you smirked right back, toying with his shirt. "trust me, i like it more than you know."
aaron's fingers dug into your hips, backing you into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind with his foot.
"please tell me you have tomorrow off, because you won't be stepping outside this apartment if i can help it." you pleaded, your voice coming out as an eager whine.
"well, the team is to be evaluated by the senate committee, hearing date pending. so for the foreseeable future," aaron bit down on his bottom lip lightly, his eyes locked on yours. "i'm all yours."
"good. mainly because i missed you, but that," you eyed his beard again, a heavy breath escaping you. the ends of your lips quirked up into a mischievous smile, and aaron's lips found yours hungrily. as he frantically continued to back you towards the direction of your bedroom, you mumbled into his lips. "we can have fun with that."
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rafesslxt · 3 months
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Love Potion ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ | Mattheo Riddle
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summary: y/n thought she would smell something different while making Amortentia
warning: enemyxlover vibes, cursing, mattheo blushing for a second
note: shorter than usual but got this idea and had to write ( obviously there are other imagines like this so no not a new original idea i mean )
Together with my friends Harry, Ron and Hermione I walked to out next class potions. This year Professor Slughorn was teaching us and I really enjoyed what we learned so far.
Today we shared class with slytherin. Everyone got in and sat down, waiting for Professor to start.
" Good evening everyone, today you are going to learn how to make a love potion. The strongest to be exact. It is called Amortentia."
All the girl started giggling but I was distracted by a strong scent, something like mens cologne.
" Who can tell me something about it? " Professor Slughorn asked. Hermione‘s hand shot up into the air. " Yes, Miss Granger."
" Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. Also Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what -"
" Yes yes yes Miss Granger, 10 points for gryffindor. And the rest of the students should figure the last point out by themselves, right?" Hermione nodded and looked at the example in front of her.
" All the ingredients are on your tables, you can either partner up or do the potion on your own. You have time till 10 minuten before the class ends. Have fun!" He clapped into his hands and everybody started.
Ron and Harry decided to do the potion on their own while Hermione and I decided to team up. It went really well until my nose was filled with this strong scent again. I looked around and the only person walking behind me was Riddle. I rolled my eyes at the thought of having his cologne in my nose.
" What is it with you? You seem so tense since we started class." Hermione asked while stirring the potion. " I have Riddles fucking strong cologne in my nose. This guy needs to start using less of it."
She knew about my hate towards him and everything he does. But I didn‘t started it, he did and I was never one to back down. So we tried to get on each other‘s nerves on every opportunity.
"Oops." i heard and felt a shoulder bumping into my side, almost knocking the potion over. I turned my back and saw Mattheo. " Wow, really mature. But what did I expect from you huh?" i snickered and turned back.
As everyone got ready, Professor Slughorn walked around the class and looked at eachs Amortentia.
" Very good ladys. May I take this for an example?" Hermione nodded proudly and we watched him putting it on the table in front of all of us.
" You all did a great job. Now I want you all to take a deep breath trough your nose and smell the potion in front of you." Everyone did as he said but again I couldn‘t smell anything but that stupid cologne.
"Y/n, why don‘t you tell me what you smell?" Professor Slughorn asked you smiling, pointing at the potion you and Hermione made. " I would love to professor, but I can only smell Mr. Riddle‘s cologne cause he apparently doesn‘t know when to stop spraying."
I gave Mattheo a dirty look but got confused really fast due to his confused look. What? No barking back?
" I don‘t wear any today, I rushed out of my common room cause I overslept." My eyebrows drew together, I didn‘t really understand why I would smell his cologne all class.
" Maybe If you take a step closer to the potion you can concentrate on the single ingredient you smell." Professor Slughorn suggested.
I did as he said and took a deep breath in again. " Um, I smell Sandlwood, bergamot and something like the deep ocean.. sea salt maybe."
I was in some kind of trance while smelling it. It was lovely, i felt so light and some goosebumbs formed on my body.
I looked up seeing Hermionie smiling. " What?" I whsipered. " Miss Granger, could you tell us the last fact for the Amortentia ?" Mr. Slughorn asked her.
" Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what attracts them." Attracts them? No no no..
I look at Mattheo, who‘s already smiling from head to toe. " Very good Miss Granger, now have a good day! And remember: Amortentia is a very dangerous potion! You should never underestimate it!"
We packed our stuff and left the class. " So what was that all about y/n? Smelling Mattheo? I mean do you really have a crush on that doucheba-" Ron startet but got interrupted shorty after " Yeah y/n, you have a little crush huh?“ Mattheo swung his arm around me, taking me away from my friends.
"What the fuck are you doing?" We rounded a corner and he stopped. " No playing around anymore little princess. Was that supposed to be a joke ?" I hope so too. " Because I smelled your fucking perfume the whole time too!"
" You - You did what?" I almost whispered, my hand flying onto my mouth. " I smelled you the whole time. Vanilla and something like strawberry.. fuck I wanted to devour you so bad." He came closer, pressing me against a wall, his chest against mine. "Tell me you don‘t feel the same, tell me I can go fuck myself and tell me to get my hands off of you."
I couldn‘t. He was right, I wanted to tell him to fuck off and to not touch me, but I simply couldn‘t. " Y/n.." he whsipered my name, coming closer with his face. Then it hit me, it has to be a joke.
I started laughing which he just answered with a confused look. " It is a joke right? You try to fuck with my head because I said I smelled you while smelling the potion. I smelled your cologne not you. Somebody else could wear it too."
" I‘m not joking y/n." " Prove it."
And from one second to another, my whole life changed. He took my face in his hands and pressed his lips again mine. Hard at first but the kiss got softer and passionate. I slowly kissed him back, putting my hands on his chest. He let my face go and put his hands on my hips, squeezing them a little bit.
Out of breath I broke the kiss, his lips red and swollen, smirking. "So you don‘t hate me huh?" I grinned. "Oh shut up." He smiled back at me and kissed me again.
hope you had fun reading 🫶🏻
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xoxo sarah
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catgirl-kaiju · 2 months
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something worth pointing out in the case of Tumblr CEO @photomatt 's statement regarding predstrogen is the very clear side stepping of the conversation being had. the ask he chose to respond to as part of his statement was asking about tumblr's transmisogyny problem, and what he is commenting on is tumblr's transphobia problem.
transmisogyny is certainly related to transphobia, but the two are not the same. i've seen plenty of trans folks who are guilty of transmisogyny and have even been harassed by such individuals on this very website. he repeatedly refers to transphobia and accusations of tumblr staff being transphobes throughout the statement, but never once brings up transmisogyny. perhaps he is unfamiliar with the term, but he could look it up and read up on it before responding to a question directly asking about it. he is very clearly not doing his due diligence in addressing these concerns.
he mentions tumblr having "LGBT+ including trans people on staff," but this is not especially helpful in assessing tumblr's transmisogyny problem. based on this we don't know how many trans people, whether or not there any transfem or TMA folks (who might understand the nature of transmisogyny better than TME people) on staff, what positions these queer people hold in the company, or whether or not any of tumblr's queer employees are on the moderation team. and it's understandable why some of these specifics are left out; you don't want to put any staff members in danger of being doxxed or harassed, especially if they're vulnerable marginalized people. however, it seems to me a gross oversight to not mention if there are any trans folks working on the moderation team.
i think it's also a huge misstep to focus on predstrogen so singularly when the conversation about her account being nuked is part of a larger conversation about transmisogyny. what this reveals, too, is transmisogyny playing an active role in the decision to ban her for life. one of the aspects of transmisogyny is viewing transfem folks as especially and uniquely dangerous. i'd like @photomatt to ask himself if he would have taken "threats" like the one cited as seriously if they came from a cis person or a TME trans person. really reflect on that, Matt. i also put "threat" in scare quotes here because, frankly, it's pretty clear that said comment is a cartoonish and outlandish example of violence used to demonstrate that the intent to harm is not literal. i do this all the time both on here and in real life. telling a friend i'm going to "maul them to death" over a minor annoyance is a comedic way of expressing frustration in a way that communicates it's not actually a big deal. saying something like "i want them to explode after falling down the stairs when trying to evade a falling piano full of knives" about a public figure or someone who is negatively affecting your life works as a way of demonstrating the intensity of your feelings while not veering into territory where it sounds like you're literally planning an assassination attempt. if you're reading this, Matt, i hope you can begin to understand the difference between something like:
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and a real actual harassment, like:
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y'know, all actual comments and posts i've received on this website, and reported with detailed explanations for why i'm reporting them but never heard back from the moderation team about the situation. i have no idea if anything was ever done about any of these people sending me bigoted violent messages because no one ever does follow-up. the only time i've ever received follow-up on a report was when i reported an account for promoting self-harm in the form of anorexia. that's it. one time in the over a decade i've been on this website.
how does all of this sit with you, Matt?
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Text
Dp x Dc Crossover
Danny and Ellie somehow get tangled with Cadmus and frozen for study later. Obviously it comes to the JL’s attention and they all go ‘oh no another clone’. Anyone’s choice of who they think it is or if it’s a collection of people they took DNA from and meshed together to make these two sassy children.
Would be funnier if they came to DC universe by accident and didn’t have time to really learn about it before capture. The result being they have no idea superheroes are a thing and the heroes just thinking ‘these kids were traumatized and held captive, they don’t even know who Superman is!’ and cue another layer of hilarious misunderstanding.
When confronted about the whole clone thing, Danny immediately defends and protects Ellie. Obviously. Then they notice he was not defending himself, to which Danny goes ‘I’m not a clone!’ The heroes look at each other in clear doubt. ‘Oh he was in denial or seriously didn’t know who he was made from. That will make this harder.’
I may have started something though…
They found a discrete laboratory hidden in plan sight, underneath an office building. When researched, they found connections to Cabmus.
Considering the last encounter they had with the organization, they wanted to be prepared. Hence why when the small team noticed Batman walking down the stairs, Superman followed behind with a tight expression.
“Report.”
Red Robin stepped forward.
“Two cryo-stasis containers holding two nearly identical people. The first a male, approximately 13-14 years of age. Stable. The second a female, younger, approximately 10-11 years of age. Also stable, but her stats are lower than the boy’s.”
“What do you know?”
“Virtually nothing,” Connor says casually. “There are no documents left behind, digital or physical, and there are zero labels on these things.”
They arrive toward the back of the basement where the two frozen containers were sitting upright. One unit obviously smaller than the other most likely holding the girl. Batman has to peer down into the larger unit to see the boy’s face. Frost collected on his eyelashes and black hair like a forgotten doll. No movement from either forms, not even breathing.
“So we don’t know who they are made from,” Superman pushes, clearly displeased.
Batman keeps looking at their faces. The curve of their noses, the shape of their jaws, the positioning of their cheekbones. They didn’t look like Connor. No, they reminded him of someone else.
“We suspect hybrids of some sort,” M’gann contributes. “A mixture of different heroes if I had to guess, but there is no way of knowing with our lack of information without waking them up.”
“Can’t you look into their minds?” Clark questions.
M’gann squirms at the directness and Connor steps forward to defend her. Tensions rise.
“No, sir. They are frozen so there is hardly any brain function except to keep them alive. They aren’t even dreaming.”
She looks them over sadly, obviously distraught with not being able to connect to their minds in anyway.
Batman turns to Red Robin, the younger already watching him.
“You see it too, right?”
Batman grunts. Yes, he saw it.
“Is there a way to move them?” Batman brings back the focus.
“The containers are connected to the buildings power and then a back-up generator in case of emergencies. We’d have to switch the power to something mobile and there’s no telling what kind of effect that would have on the kids,” Connor explains, against the idea of moving them.
“It’s six in the evening. Most everyone in the building above as gone home for the day,” Red Robin helpfully adds.
“Evacuate the rest. Then call a medical team.”
“Wait,” Superman interrupts as the three younger heroes jump to do as instructed. “You’re not thinking about waking them up now, are you?”
“You have a better idea?”
Batman doesn’t even look at him as he studies the stats on the old screen connected to the nearest pod. This one holding the boy. He’ll be the first one out seeing as he’s the more stable one.
“They could be dangerous. They could try to attack us.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Batman deadpans. He didn’t state the obvious that they were children who had been frozen for who knows how long. If anything they’ll need reassurance that they were safe, not weapons in their faces as soon as they wake up.
Clark was not happy with his decision, but as long as he didn’t antagonize them Bruce left him alone.
It wasn’t long before they were ready to begin. Three medical personnel stood several yards back behind the heroes. Red Robin begins the defrosting procedure and they have to wait maybe an hour before the door slides open. There is a breath among them as they wait for his eyes to open. Instead they hear a cracking of thin ice and the boy falls forward without the door holding him in place. Connor is the one to catch him before he hits the floor face first.
Superboy turns him to lay him flat on the floor, the boy’s body still stiff with cold. Frost makes his hair and eyelashes brittle. His lips are a faint shade of blue.
“He isn’t breathing,” Connor informs quickly.
One of the medics push forward first, oxygen mask in hand.
“Bring the thermal blankets. We need to get his core temperature up,” the woman urgently instructs.
They get to work quickly in warming up the boy who is too small and fragile. After several minutes of the medics squeezing air into his mouth and rubbing his limbs and chest to get the blood flowing, the boy takes a breath. Then another. He coughs roughly, his throat scratchy, and starts to shiver.
“There we go.”
He whimpers and tries to move his hand, but the action is jerky and unpracticed.
“His eyes,” M’gann informs them, finally able to get some brain activity. “He can’t open his eyes. The ice-“
Connor takes a water bottle the medics brought and poured the room temperature water over his eyes to melt the ice holding them together. The boy jumps in surprise and tries to turn his head away but Connor continues until he can manually wipe away the ice and water from his eyelids.
Blue eyes. The boy has bright sky blue eyes. They aren’t the Krytonian blue, but they were still familiar.
He blinks and squints and looks around, breathing picking up at the people surrounding him and the unfamiliar environment. M’gann, sensing his distress, kneels down and sets a warm hand on his leg.
“It’s okay. No one here will hurt you. You’re safe now.”
He doesn’t relax, but he seems to at least understand her. He studies their uniforms and then her face before his eyes flick to something behind her and they widen. His breath stutters in his chest, making him wheeze out on the exhale.
They look behind the green skinned girl to see the smaller pod still holding the little girl, no change in her status.
The boy reaches out a shaky hand toward it, scraping against the cold concrete in his lack of energy to lift it.
“She’s okay too.”
He opens his mouth to speak, licks his lips, tries again.
“-ou-,” he rasps. His breath hitches and he’s coughing again. They help him onto his side.
“You want us to get her out?” Red Robin interprets.
The boy squints through the tears from the lack of oxygen at the hero. His expression is scrunched in discomfort and worry. As enthusiastic as he can manage, the boy nods.
“Okay, we can do that. You just have to wait, she needs to thaw out, just like what we did with you,” Red Robin explains to the boy.
He nods again in understanding, his eyes glued back to the girl in the pod. He still shivers harshly and his breathing isn’t regular but he’s not panicking and in no shape to attack them, so it seems like they were in the clear with that one.
While the girl is thawing, they get him more comfortable with warm blankets and get him to drink some water for his throat. He still wasn’t moving much except to curl up on his side and breathe on his colorless fingers. Every time he swallowed he cringed like he was drinking acid, so talking was off the table for now.
The boy was fighting sleep by the time the container door slide open. Connor was there and holding her before she could fall like the boy had.
Superboy lays the girl down close to the boy, seeing the pale hand reaching for her. As soon as he backed away the medics were on her to get air in her lungs and warm her body same as they did for the boy.
The boy watches, quietly holding her hand. Siblings it looks like it. Seeing them side by side was startling. They seemed to be clones of each other, one just younger and the opposite gender, but they were the same.
It was concerning as the number of minutes increased and there was no change. She didn’t breathe or move. She looked dead.
“Get the defibrillator,” the medic ordered, urgent.
The boy surprisingly wasn’t panicking, instead he held a hard determination that made some of the heroes curious.
Pushing himself up onto his elbow, he leaned over the girl and started weakly pushing the blankets out of the way. Thinking he was just helping to make the medic’s job easier, M’gann helped until her torso was exposed.
“You need to back away so they-“
She stops when she sees him tug at the girl’s white shirt to get into direct contact with her skin, hand pressed to her chest.
“What are you-?”
He narrows his eyes in concentration.
Red Robin unconsciously takes a step back when the boy’s blue eyes change into a glowing toxic green, illuminating the girl’s face, frost shining in the light. The hand pressed to her chest also starts to glow the same green until it seeps into her skin like she’s absorbing this weird energy. It reminded them of Starfire actually.
The green in his eyes fades as soon as the unknown green energy is lighting up her entire torso just under the skin. He pulls away and looks expectantly at the medic holding the defibrillator. She flinches into moving, setting the machine down and charging it. She’s hesitant to touch the green energy but the boy nods in encouragement, not looking concerned for anything but the girl’s health.
“Clear!”
It takes one shock for the green energy to disperse through her body and cause her to gasp. The girl starts coughing harshly and the boy pulls her to lay on her side facing him. Connor quickly helps the boy to cover her in blankets. The boy goes as far as tucking them around her and taking one of his own blankets to pile on top. He was moving more easily now even if it was sluggish.
M’gann gasps quietly just as the girl starts sobbing, whining when the act of crying hurt her throat. The boy pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her under his chin so they could barely see her. They watch as he calmly comforts her until they are both eased into unconsciousness.
Batman give Superman a pointed look as he passes him. Clark doesn’t respond.
“Get them to the Watchtower med bay,” he orders.
It’s Superman who picks up the pile of two children tangled together and wrapped in layers of fabric, nearly throwing them at how light they both weighted. The three younger heroes follow behind, Tim mumbling about “Lazarus pits” and “Jason”, M’gann twisting her fingers in anxiety, and Connor keeping a close eye on the two kids being carried by his original.
It’s unsurprising that it’s Connor who volunteers to say with them when they are settled down in the med bay, still clinging to each other in sleep.
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sweetestdesire · 2 months
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DRUNK ON LOVE
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WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.
PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader takes care of a drunk Quinn Hughes.
Quinn was beyond drunk. It was a rare occasion, as he rarely drank never mind to the extent of it actually having any effects. He thought the hangovers were bothersome and it wasn't exactly recommended as a pro-athlete. But the team, specifically Elias Pettersson and Brock Boeser, had roped him into a few celebratory drinks after their win before Quinn had text Y/N a few hours later to pick him up early with a, “wanna come home now, I’m sleepy.”
Y/N knew Quinn had had enough when she watched him almost trip over his own two feet on his way back from the bathroom with a little "ow,” after denying just that before his looming stature was shuffling down the hallway and his head whipped up to blink at her with drowsy, lidded eyes in the hopes she didn't see. But she did, and just when his lips parted to grumble about it, she laughed. Her laugh was so warm and so pretty, and something that sounded so much like home, that it made him consider trying to actually fall just so he could hear it again.
Quinn made it three steps into the living room before there was a puffy cheeked pout on his face and his eyes were on Y/N as he mumbled out a, "Hey, quit laughing at me." His cheeks were painted red and his hair was messier than usual, but she’s always thought he looked pretty in the glow from the kitchen. He softened as he sighed sleepily and because she loved him, she caught herself sighing too, a content sort of sound.
“Hi, baby.” Quinn greeted, and Y/N could feel her heart melt. He was drunk, yeah, but the buzz was doing nothing to disguise the hearts in his eyes when he looked at her, his gaze glassy and half lidded.
Y/N reached out, brushing the hair off his forehead and he leaned into her touch, his eyes falling closed. “Hi.” She leaned over to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Did you have fun?”
Quinn followed her hand back down, letting his head fall against her shoulder, nodding against her skin.
“You’re home early, was everything alright? I thought you’d be out until at least midnight.” Y/N was running her hands through his hair slowly, pressing against his scalp as she combed through his hair, enjoying the feeling of him melting into her. He mumbled something into her skin, nuzzling himself into the crook of her neck. “What was that?”
Quinn lifted his head to look at her. “Said I’ve missed you. Left early.”
Y/N would love to respond to that, really, but it seemed as though she lost the ability to form words; he was drunk out of his mind, and was having a very, very rare night out with teammates, and he left early to come lay in bed with her just because he loved her. It was sappy and ridiculous, and she’s never loved anyone so much and probably never will again.
It was impossible to find an adequate response. Y/N leaned in, pressing kisses to his cheek, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth, and finally, his lips. She cupped the back of his neck, pressing him close before she rested her foreheads together, soaking in the fact that she was the lucky person that got the sole adoration of the kindest, sweetest, most loving person on the planet before pulling away, sliding her hand down to his chest.
"Are you sleepy, Quinny?" Y/N giggled, a little amused before she narrowed her eyes as he fiddled around with him phone in his hand, rotating the screen clumsily, but the sound of her voice brought his sleepy gaze back to her. He rocked forward with a few slow blinks and another cute pout before he stumbled towards her again, and he really looked like he was in love.
“May have overdone it.” Quinn grumbled from his spot on the floor, holding on for dear life as she was sure the room was spinning for him.
“You think?” Y/N teased, immediately feeling a pang of guilt when she was met with a pathetically needy face from him in return. “Oh, baby, it’s okay.”
"Don’t be mean to me." Quinn drawled, low and a little slurred the alcohol making his usual lazy tone of voice a little whinier before he slumped down between her legs to flop on top of her instead of returning to his previous seat next to her with a grumble.
He looked small like this, no longer her giant protector, but like a younger version of himself who just needed someone to take care of him. Y/N was happy to be that person, as he always was for her. It was a rare occurrence to ever see him like this. He always managed to know his limits, but tonight he just went off the deep end.
Quinn’s arms wrapped around her waist and she noticed the slight fogginess that still laid over his lidded gaze when he blinked up at her from her stomach. Y/N giggled again, shuffling under him and scrunching her nose at his sudden weight.
“Quinn, move over.” She grumbled and he only allowed his bottom lip to jut out into a makeshift pout as his arms around her tighten.
"Don’t want to, it’s comfier here." Quinn huffed, eyes dropping and he knew he was probably going to complain about the ache in his neck tomorrow given the awkward positioning, but right now, he nuzzled into her anyway.
"You’re squishing me.” Y/N added, voice lilting to a tease and he sighed, only moving slightly to guide one of her hands to smooth through his hair before he nuzzled into her.
"Give me some kisses and I’ll get up." Quinn sighed again, but he hummed when her fingers combed through his hair and she knew it was less because he was tired and more because he was home, watching him shoot her one of his more affectionate looks before he placed a softer kind of kiss onto her skin through her clothes.
"Do you wanna get up and go to bed?" Y/N laughed, craning her head to lean forward and place a kiss to his forehead and he yawned before he shook his head and his arms around her seem to squeeze even tighter.
"Nah, don't want to. Just want to stay here a little longer." His words were quiet and she smiled as he leaned forward to place a sloppy kiss to her lips before he rested his chin on her chest. "Pretty thing." Quinn mumbled a beat later, blinking up at her while his words still slightly slurred and she couldn’t help the snort that left her lips when the sudden tender confession left his pouty lips.
“How much did the guys make you drink?" Y/N replied, slightly teasing but she continued to scratch her nails through his messy hair anyway, just to watch him lean into her touch like he always did.
"Don’t ask." Quinn sighed, turning to place a tender kiss to her wrist before his eyes closed again, his voice smoother when it sounded once more like he was steadying himself.
Quinn groaned at the realization of what was coming when he wakes up tomorrow, but he hiccuped before breathing deep and softening. Y/N leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose and she giggled at the way his eyes closed, feeling his fingers squeeze at the dip of her waist when she pulled away.
"No fair, I wasn't done yet." Quinn breathed, and by the tone of his voice she could tell clarity was slowly getting a grip on him again.
Y/N shook her head, amused and leaned in again when he met her half way with a pout, because Quinn taught her that happiness was just as simple as this. Him nuzzling into her stomach between slurred words and stolen kisses as her fingers smoothed through his hair. He was drunk, but he loved her everyday, just the same as always.
“You’re so pretty.” Quinn slurred, the messy pile of hair brushing across her stomach.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight.” Y/N teased gently. “You’re talking nonsense now.”
“Not nonsense.” Quinn mumbled argumentatively, a soft pout to his lips. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Give me a kiss.” He said, and Y/N rolled her eyes once more, giggling as she cupped his cheeks and peppered kisses across his face, pressing one final one over his lips.
A small, barely-there grin erupted on his face as he leaned into her hands, and she brushed a thumb over his warm cheek. “There. Those enough for you?"
"Yeah.” Quinn happily nodded, head drooping forward as his eyes started to close, and this was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid.
Quinn had always done that. He fell asleep on the couch, slumped on the floor against the kitchen counter, in the passenger seat of her car, anywhere but their bed. Y/N can never managed to get him there in time, and a hungover Quinn with a sore back was never a fun Quinn to deal with.
"No.” Y/N warned, tapping his cheek to wake him. "Quinn, do not fall asleep.” She said sternly, and he huffed, lifting his head up with a scowl, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as she unbuttoned his shirt.
“I’m tired, baby.” Quinn grumbled. “And why're you trying to see me naked?"
Y/N stared at him with pursed lips as he looked up at her with a raised brow. "I’m not. Now, lift your arms.”
"You think I’m hot? Like what you see?” Quinn grinned, reaching up to poke her cheek. He missed and his body swayed forward as he lost his balance, making her grab him with a sigh. "Hey, keep your hands to yourself.” He snickered, and she almost thought she should let him fall forward to the floor, face first. But that would make him even more insufferable in the morning, and Y/N liked the idea of keeping the remaining bits of her sanity intact. Not that there was a lot of sanity left to keep when she was dating someone like Quinn.
"You are too much.” Y/N snorted, but still, there was fondess as she swept back sweaty locks from his face, tracing over the slants of his features slowly as he closed his eyes and relished in her touch. She didn’t get to take care of him like this often, so she was grateful he was a lightweight, even if he denied that fact to his grave.
"You don’t think I’m hot? Come on, I know you do just a little.” Quinn insisted, letting her finally peel his button down off his upper body.
Chuckling, Y/N threw his shirt across the room as she murmured, "Maybe I do think you're hot, but only just a little."
"Well, I think you're pretty fucking gorgeous.” Quinn poked her hip, sending her a sly grin as she swatted his wandering hand away with a warning glance. "Best I ever had."
"Oh, yeah? Who else you got to make the comparison?"
"No one. Everyone else sucks, so you're best by default.” He shrugged. Her heart melted a little, and she supposed this is what dating someone like Quinn did to her. Taking things he meant as an insult to others as a compliment for herself, but it warmed her up that he saw her as different, as good.
"You’re the best I ever had, too.” Y/N grinned. “How are you feeling?” She asked softly, scanning his face for discomfort or distress.
“I’m okay.” Quinn hiccuped back. “Just want to cuddle.” He always became exceptionally affectionate when he got this drunk.
His eyes fluttered open and closed without rhythm as he looked at her, his eyes glazed over with a glassy shine, and his mouth hung open slightly, like he didn’t have the coordination to close it. His pink cheeks were flushed and his skin had a sweaty sheen. His head had rolled off to one side and rested on his shoulder, like his neck had given up on holding his head up, and his arms fell heavy at his sides.
Y/N should have been at least slightly annoyed with him for acting like a college kid, drinking until he made himself sick. It should’ve gotten under her skin and caused a bit of anger to bubble up into her chest, but it didn’t. She was just taking care of her man. “Do you feel nauseous at all?”
“I promise I’m okay, baby.” Quinn said, making himself giggle. His lips lazily curled up into a smile and he dragged a lazy arm up to give the “okay” symbol with his uncoordinated fingers, before the heavy limb dropped back down to the couch beneath him.
They were quiet for a bit, Quinn fluttering his eyes closed as he hummed contently, and Y/N just admiring him in silence. She let her hand crawl into his, interlocking their fingers together before bringing it up to her lips and pressing small kisses to each of his knuckles. Her fingers ran through his still damp hair, initially just to push them up and away from his forehead and eyes, but continued when she heard the little happy mewls coming from him.
“You always take such good care of me.” Quinn said sloppily with a gentle tone, breaking through the bubble of silence they had created together.
“I always will.” Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to his salty forehead and settled back onto the cushions.
“I love you.” He gave her a gentle squeeze as he cheekily grinned.
“I love you, too.” She felt his smile against her skin, and it made her smile, too.
They hadn’t been together for long, with saying the “L” word still being pretty new, and still slightly foreign to both of them. But she meant it when she said it. She loved him, and her body always filled with a blushing warmth when he said he loved her, too.
“Will you marry me?” The question left his lips in his absurdly difficult to understand drawl and it took her a moment to process what he said, but when she did her heart stopped.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to marry him, because she did, but not now. It was too soon. There was still too much for them to do together, too much still to learn about him, and too much for him to learn about her.
“I will someday.” Y/N spoke gently, trying hard not to hurt his currently fragile feelings. She was now holding his face tenderly, like if she held him steady and close, she could lessen the blow.
“So, no?” Quinn looked up at her with his big puppy dog eyes, feeling guilt punch her in the gut.
“For now. Everything is just going so well right now, we don’t have to mess with it.”
“Just want to be with you forever.” He said softly and her heart began to melt. Quinn was such a soft person, who felt everything so deeply and with so much emotion. He was a sap, and she absolutely loved him for it. She pulled him closer to her chest, pressing soft kisses to his temple.
“And you will be.” Y/N breathed. “Forever will still be there down the line.”
“Why not now?” His lips held an adorable pout and she couldn’t stop herself from pressing a kiss to them. He tasted awful, like vodka and sweat, but the kiss was loving and sweet as she tried to pour all her love for him into it.
“Because we still have to grow.” Y/N watched the end of his mouth tick up, sure to make some sort of smartass comment about them both being grown already. “We have to grow together.” She finished.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Quinn mused softly.
“I promise that I will say ‘yes’ when we are ready someday.”
“Someday.” He repeated softly, feeling the words on his own lips. “I’m going to keep asking, you know?” He smirked up at her, his smile and joking tone signalling that she hadn’t broken his heart, just bruised his ego a bit.
“That’s perfectly okay.” Y/N sighed, a contagious smile finding its way to her own lips. “I’m going to keep saying ‘no’ until we’re ready, you know?” She teased, using his own words against him.
“One day, baby.” Y/N was pretty sure Quinn was asleep, as he was yawning the whole way through his response, and had promptly flipped over and snuggled into her with his eyes closed, but then she felt his lips press lightly against her neck. “Love you.”
She pressed a matching kiss to his temple, rubbing her thumb against his shoulder. “I love you more.”
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disneyprincemuke · 3 months
Text
ღ this barbie’s teammate is a schumacher
notes: hello gays it is i, finally writing for barbie
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she closes the car door and sighs with a small smile, looking at the building ahead of her. this will be her life until she decides otherwise. she shoves her car keys into her purse and watches curiously as another supercar pulls into the empty lot next to her.
is that who she thinks it is?
she takes a step towards her car, watching the car be parked into the slot flawlessly. she tilts her head when it comes to a stop, the driver's side opening to reveal its driver.
"oh!" she shrieks, running around the front of her car to approach the young man. "mick schumacher, right? i am such a big fan! i'm so excited to finally be working with you!"
the german takes a step back, overwhelmed by the sudden presence of the girl in pink approaching him. she has a pair of sunglasses resting on the top of her head, a fur coat on and a purse hanging off her elbow.
"oh, hi," mick smiles politely. he's not a mean person; he's just a little more introverted than the next guy. "i'm glad to be with honda this year. i'm looking forward to spending the year with you."
he was in deep thought before she came up to him. he wondered, as the way he's been doing for years, if the rumours that he'd been scouted for the second seat at the request of his boss's daughter. but who is he to complain; he's racing in f1 again. does it matter how he got back into it?
surely not.
but this girl that stands in front of him – could she be an intern? she looks fairly young, very enthusiastic, and a glimmer of hope in her eyes that he doesn't see from individuals his age often. perhaps a marketing intern.
"alright, well, i'll see you inside! i love the sweater, by the way!" she shrieks, waving at him with a wide smile. she waves at him as she walks away, cautiously crossing the parking lot as the rest of the cars for the day start to roll in. "and the car! you have to give me a tour someday!"
he waves back at her in confusion, only able to mutter a 'goodbye' to himself as she disappears into the big front doors of the building. he locks his car and follows her in the direction she left, ready to start his new year with a new team.
he spends the next 10 minutes navigating the new factory he'll be frequenting from now on. introducing himself to people, familiarising himself with the engineers he'll be working closely with, and other members of the team. it's a surprisingly bigger team than he had initially thought, so it takes him longer than he expected.
about 20 minutes introducing himself and trying to pin names with the new faces. then he ends up in a quiet office, shaking his leg in anticipation as he awaits his first face-to-face meeting with his new teammate and his boss.
he hears clicks of heels right by the door, prompting him to sit up a little straighter as he glances behind him quickly. he straightens his sweater, pulls his sleeves down and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. he can't screw himself over.
"i'm telling you, daddy, he's got the coolest car! i saw him in the parking lot earlier!" the door opens, revealing two figures with two familiar faces. which, shouldn't be the case, because this is the first time he's meeting his teammate.
"do you want one, honey?"
"no, that's so silly! i love my car!" she giggles, before abruptly stopping at the sight of his wide blue eyes staring at her in disbelief. "my car is perfectly fine! right, mick?"
mick blinks, swallowing the forming lump of guilt in his throat. he had no idea that the girl in the parking lot was going to be his teammate eventually.
oh god, and for him to assume that she's a marketing or pr intern? how humiliating. how would he feel if someone were to think that of his sister was a mere backend worker when she is something more?
"yes," he answers by default, not really remembering what she was asking him. he immediately pushes himself up to his feet and extends a hand to her first. "i'm sorry. i don't believe i got your name in the parking lot – i didn't know you were going to be my teammate. i'm so sorry."
"oh, don't worry about it. it happens a lot." she introduces herself before quickly walking away, running over to the empty seat next to him.
mick huffs, grinning at her father before he takes a seat. but the entire time, all he can think of is how embarrassed he is for misjudging her. "you don't care that i didn't take you for a driver at first?"
she looks off blankly, pressing her lips together before shaking her head. she turns to him again. "it's not like i told you," she grins. "anyway, do you like japanese curry? that's my favourite – i'll make you some when we meet again for pre-season."
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taglist: @cashtons-wife @darleneslane @namgification @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @angsthology @renarots @elliegrey2803 @cha-hot @cosmoscoffeee @fanficweasley @sugarhoneylemons @aquangxl @omgsuperstarg @strawberryubin @lovecarsgoingvroom @mangotaitai @cherry-piee @ladyladybuggg @lethalvenus @gentlyweeps-world @spilled-coffee-cup @charizznorizz @wcnorris @storminacloud @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @leilanixx @daniellef89x @fezlvr @lavisenri @xcharlottemikaelsonx @ultraviolencesam @selsbackyard @ilove-tswizzle @riddle-me-im-sirius @kindestofkings
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mrrharper · 1 month
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More Loyal, More American, More The Same
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Coach had been annoyed a bit lately. It wasn't because of any singular thing - a lost game or some encounter. It was more of a... vibe, as his players would say. It's something that's been nagging him for a long time.
The whole atmosphere around college football has changed. Players can now earn money, meaning they now care only about getting rich instead of sacrificing everything they've got for the team. The craze abound 'toxic masculinity' has taken hold, and as a result many guys on the team have taken up interests and activities unworthy of real men - and they are extremely public about this!
Something has been lost - some immeasurable yet vital part of college football's spirit. And unfortunately Coach's team wasn't immune to this. He has seen his younger recruits display a variety of behaviors that differed from his view of how a college football rookie should function in a locker room filled with other football players.
And Coach's opinion becomes the law of the locker room. So after he saw a few of his defensive linemen participate in a film theory seminar, and his starting wide receiver posted a picture showing him attending some anti-government protest, he knew he had to act.
He decided to tackle these issues in a few ways. He began with working on his players' patriotism. Coach knew that he needed his guys to have this base layer - respect for the great nation that they were a part of - that he could build upon. He turned to one of his most trusted tools, subconscious messaging hidden in his videos and presentations.
you are an American
you are a Real Patriot
you play AMERICAN football
you fight for America
America is the greatest country on Earth
you preserve American traditions and values
During teem meetings, the players' minds began internalizing the importance of unquestionable loyalty to the US of A, the greatest place in the world. Coach spent a few weeks working on this, and when Military Appreciation Day came, for the first time in a long time, the whole team took active part in it. He even heard a few of them talk abut enlisting after college.
Motivated by such positive results, Coach moved to his next objective. After a bit of tampering, the speakers the players used to play music in the gym during workouts began incorporating conditioning that would align their behavior with Coach's expectations.
i am a man
i am proud to be a man
i am a strong man
i do what is masculine
my manhood needs upkeep
masculinity defines me
Alongside this, it didn't take a lot of work for coach to make sure that none of his players could sign up for any extracurricular activity through the school's registration system. Not only that, they were now barred form attending anything other than the most basic of classes.
Fortunately, the results were visible here as well. The players stopped attending seminars and lectures created by a bunch of nerds and no longer showed interest in investing much time into any sort of academic work.
The last step Coach decided to undertake was meant to address the issue of money. Players, having the ability to make deals and get income from their appearance in games, seemed to have lost the true reason for playing college football. But there was a way of dealing with that too.
The new helmets that the athletics department bought recently all include a pair of speakers for the purpose of communication between the coaches and the player. In theory this is reserved only for the QB, but there's nothing Coach can't work around.
i play AMERICAN football
i am grateful Coach allows me to play
i play football for glory and to preserve tradition
the thrill of the game is enough
i am Coach's loyal football jock
During every practice, during every workout, during every game, the player's minds were being bombarded with Coach's hypnotic message. And it was working. The guys were displaying their patriotism more often - flags hanging in their rooms, tons of pro-american posts on Instagram, they stopped attending non-mandatory classes and instead added another team session in the gym to their schedules, and Coach noted a visible drop in the number of sponsorship deals the players were making.
There might have been one side effect. As time went on the players began looking more and more similar. The same hobbies, mostly working out or shooting, the same clothes, the same views, the same drive to protect tradition. And Coach had absolutely nothing against that. Who cares if they all act the same, as long as they act exactly as he wants them to.
As Coach's loyal football jocks.
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totaly-obsessed · 9 days
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Love, Tears, and Laundry
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Leah Williamson x reader request
-> Leah comes home to find her oldest daughter upset, leading to heart-to-heart talks and a plan for a weekend getaway.
-> Thank you very much @alotofpockets for giving me the idea and help through the process!
-> Word count: 2.500
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
While the Leah that stood on the pitch was fierce and stoic, a smile often missed on her beautiful face, the Leah you knew at home was quite different. Sure she was still fierce, but in a protective way, but she was much more soft than anything, so soft for her four girls.
At eight years old, Lilly was the oldest, followed by six-year-old twins, Emma and Olivia, and they were the light of the footballer's life, joined by you, her wife of course. Three kids of such different characters definitely filled the house with more life than it had ever seen before.
It had been a long day for your wife, a tough matchday with following meetings going over the game before everyone forgot what happened. Leah had been so excited to go home and see her girls again, but as soon as she opened the front door she knew something was off.
Emmie and Ollie sat in the living room, complete silence filling the house. Not a single little girl stormed towards her.
“Did you two watch the game?”
Silence.
“Oof tough crowd. Where's Mumma?” Tiny hands pointed up the stairs, grave expressions on their little faces. These aren't the happy little girls Leah had expected. Usually, they ran to the door, happy to greet their mother after watching her win on the telly, if they couldn’t be there in person.
The first room Leah checked was Lilly’s, who sat in the tightest corner of her room, one of her favorite books in her hand, granting her mother just a short glance, before she went back to her book, completely ignoring the defender.
This was officially the frostiest atmosphere she had ever come home to.
After going through the entire house she finally found you in the basement, sobbing while doing laundry.
You were sitting on the floor, surrounded by piles of clothes, shoulders shaking with sobs as you clutched a crumpled piece of paper in your hand. Leah's heart sank at the sight of you like this, her own worries about the girls momentarily pushed aside by concern for you.
"Hey, baby," she murmured softly, kneeling down beside you and gently wrapping her arms around your trembling form. "What's wrong?"
You looked up at her with tear-filled eyes, the distress evident in your expression. Without a word, you handed her the paper, and Leah unfolded it, her brows furrowing as she read the contents.
I really hate you right now Mommy.
"Oh, love," Leah whispered, her heart aching for both you and Lilly. She pulled you into a tighter embrace, offering what little comfort she could in that moment. "We'll figure this out together, okay? We're a team.”
Seeing you like this pained the defender - what had happened that you were handed that note?
“What happened, love?”
She had now sat down beside you, pulling you close to her side. A warm hand stroked your back in soothing motions, while the other guided your head into your wife's neck. The smell was familiar and comforting, simultaneously hiding you from the world - even if the world right now was just the laundry room.
“Lilly and I picked the twins up from training, got ice cream, and then went home.” You had to take a second, sobs still wrecking your body, as Leah tried to wipe away a steady stream of tears with small kisses all over your face. “Emmie and Ollie put your game on, just in time for the second half, and then Lils started shouting at them.” 
The blonde defender had trouble understanding you in certain parts, voice still thick with sadness. Lilly shouting at her sisters? A hard picture to imagine.
“A-And then I stepped in, she stomped upstairs and came back with the note, and -” a painful sob wrecked your body “and she yelled ‘I hate you’ in my face Lee.”
This sounded a lot more serious than Leah had expected if she was being honest. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, my love. How could she? You’re the best mother there is!”
Your tears subsided, but there were still wet streaks running down your puffy cheeks, breaking Leah’s heart even further. “I’ll talk to her. Wanna get a nice, warm bath?” A quick sigh left her mouth when she saw your shaking head. She should have known. “I can’t Lee. Have to finish this laundry.”
After thankful kisses from you, and helping you up, Leah made her way back up the stairs, passing the living room, where Emma and Olivia were still sitting quietly.
“I’ll go talk to Lills, yeah? Are you two okay here?” Both blondes nodded, not even looking at their mother. “We’re fine Mumma.”
With slow steps she walked up the stairs, playing a full 90 minutes was much harder now than it was when she was younger. She didn't just spend all her energy on a pitch, she had three beautiful daughters to play with and to parent - that takes a lot of energy.
“Lilly?”
She didn’t receive an answer, but quiet sobs led her through the long hallway all the way to the end where the room of her oldest daughter was. The colorful, hand-painted door was slightly ajar, letting the blonde know that it was pitch black inside.
“Darls? Are you in here?” She was no longer in her corner with a book.
The sobs got louder the closer she got to the bed, and after a quick tug at one of the colorful blankets that formed a mountain on her oldest bed gave the location away when she heard a surprised gasp.
The room got quiet, Lilly hoping that her mother would just leave her alone if she acted like she wasn't there. But Leah picked her up from her mattress, still wrapped in multiple soft blankets like she was a toy in a claw machine. 
Her oldest gave a small “Eeek!” of surprise before slumping into her mother's arms. Leah gave her best to make it playful, acting like she couldn’t find Lilly’s face, tickling her feet and talking to her hand before she finally unraveled the blankets. 
You always liked to say that looks wise, your oldest daughter could have been Leah’s twin. The blonde hair, the fair skin, and the twinkling eyes that usually were on her face. She also laughed the same and possessed the same hard-working spirit, determined to be top of the class while trying out as many hobbies as she could.
But right now, there was no smile on her face. Her little face was all red and puffy, tear streaks still on her cheeks, while her eyes were still glassy. And in that moment Leah was glad that you didn’t see the girl in her current state, knowing that it would have broken your heart even further. Right now she looked more like you - matching sad faces.
“I think we need to talk Lills.” With a whine, the eight-year-old tried to bury her face in her mother's shoulder after climbing on her lap, but the defender knew that she needed to have an actual conversation with her daughter. As gently as she could Leah pulled the small blonde from her hiding spot, sitting her down opposite from her on the bed.
“I’m sorry Mumma.” Small hands wiped at never-ending tears until Leah gave her a tissue and the water bottle off of her nightstand.
“What are you sorry for, darling?”
Lilly had gulped down nearly the entirety of the bottle before giving it back to Leah, who just watched in surprise at how thirsty her daughter was. Seems like crying takes a lot of energy out of such a small human.
“I- I was mean to Mama an- and I shouted. Was mean…”
With a soft coo, Leah pulled Lilly in for a hug, small arms squeezing her as hard as they could while soft puffs of air hit her neck.
“Thank you for apologizing Lilly, but I am not the one you should say that to darling.” Her oldest nodded, she knew that, but she also felt bad that Leah now had to calm her down. And she knew that Mama wasn’t doing too good either, she really had been mean. “I know Mumma. I will apologize to Mama, promise.”
“Can you tell me what happened, that you said those words to Mama?”
Leah could feel the deep breath that Lilly dragged in, before she sat up, leaving her mother's warm embrace. She gathered herself before trying to explain what happened.
“Mama and I picked up Emmie and Ollie from training, and I wanted to go to the bakery, but they wanted ice cream. A- and Mama said, that they deserved it for training so hard, b- but -” She took a little break from talking, her voice shaky as she was getting herself worked up again.
Leah handed her the water bottle again, warning her not to gulp it down. “But I wanted a croissant so badly, an’ I’ve been training real hard too.” She really had been training a lot, also following in her Mother’s footsteps but more in the gymnastics department as football wasn’t her thing.
“In the car, the twins were loud, like really loud Mumma. An’ Mama told ‘em to stop, but they didn’t” Sadly that was a regular occurrence that Leah had no clue of, her schedule didn’t allow her to pick them up or drop them off at training, so the energy after training was something new to her.
“At home, I wanted to watch my show - the one with the doggos, but Mama said that we had to watch you on the Telly. An’ I already missed last week and before that.” The defender kept nodding at her daughter, making little hums, to show her that she was still listening without interrupting her story.
“Mama didn’t want to watch my new floor skill that I learned yesterday. Said she was too busy makin’ dinner and laundry at the same time. Then you came home.” Lilly was done with her story, taking deep breaths and another gulp out of her bottle, finishing it off.
“Thank you for telling me, darling. But when did you shout at Mama and give her the note?” Now she knew why her daughter was sad and needed to figure out why her wife was sad. So she had to fish for the little details Lilly let out of her story.
The small blonde tried to avoid her mother's eyes, which looked a lot like her own, just less red and puffy. “When she didn’t wanna watch me.” Slowly Leah could make sense of what had happened.
“So you yelled at her, that you hated her, and gave her the note before you came up here?” Lilly’s head hung deep in shame when she nodded, She really regretted what she had said to her Mama. “Yeah.”
“Do you want to go and say sorry to Mama? Explain how you feel. Then we can talk about how we fix this, but you really hurt Mama.” 
“Yeah.”
Hand in Hand the two blondes trotted down the stairs, where the living room was filled with a little more life than it had been before, but you were still nowhere to be seen. But the twins were quick to tell their big sister that you were in your and Leah’s bedroom.
“Mama?” The room was dark when she pushed the door open, gripping the handle like her life depended on it. When she looked back at Leah she just got a thumbs up with a wonky grin, trying to gesture to her that she should go in.
“Yes, Darling?" She could hear your shaky voice, it was so similar to her younger sisters, that it was almost uncanny. Lilly had also never seen you cry because of sadness before - aside from sad movies, while your wife kept laughing at you.
With slow steps your oldest daughter made her way to the bed, stopping just in front of it as she held her hands out. Tears started to form again in your eyes - Leah does the same thing when you’re sitting on the bed or the couch. She stands in front of you and holds your hands while keeping intense eye contact, letting you know that her entire focus is on you. And now Lilly does the same. She really is an observant little girl.
“I wanted to say sorry Mama.” Her small hands were clammy and warm, showing her nerves as she gave her best to keep her voice steady. “And I would like to explain if you’d listen to me.”
“Of course darling.” You had pulled her up on the bed and instead of just sitting and looking at you, she promptly pushed you into the pillows and cuddled into your side, her eyes still focused on your face.
The 8-year-old poured her heart out to you, just like she had done to your wife, who was now trying to keep the twins busy with little ball games in the living room while you and Lilly talked in the comfort of your bed. 
Leah felt like a creep as she pressed her head to her own bedroom door after giving you 30 minutes together, trying to listen for any sounds that could indicate more tears - but it was silent. With a gentle knock, she opened the door.
Lilly was sprawled out on top of you, eyes still open as she quietly whispered her gymnastic stories to you, while one of your hands brushed through her hair. Leah was honestly surprised that both of you were still awake, this had been a lot.
“Hi, girls!” Her oldest daughter sat up quickly, opening her arms, gesturing for her mother to join you on the bed. “Baby I wanna say something real quick, okay?” Lilly nodded her hair still a mess, no matter how much you bushe’d it with your fingers.
“It was never our intention to ignore you, or your needs and wishes - and Mama and me, we are very sorry.” A smile took place on Lilly’s face, she could see and feel that both you and Leah genuinely meant it. “Thank you for apologizing.” You couldn’t help but laugh at how much she sounded like her mother, with the same tone, eyes, and light smile on her lips.
As gently as you could you caressed her cheek, brushing over it with your thumb as your daughter leaned into your touch. “And we are very proud of you, and we are super glad that you told us - even if the way there was a little complicated.”
All three of you had to giggle but stopped abruptly when something loud crashed downstairs. “What do you think of me calling Grandma and see if she’ll take the little troublemakers for the weekend, and we’ll do something together? Just the 3 of us?”
The smile finally reached Lilly’s eyes again, as her grin mirrored that of the defender. “Yes please, Mumma!”
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evilminji · 10 months
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You know what? I just had A Thought(tm)~☆
Danny. Our bby boy. MINDING HIS BUSINESS. Maybe visiting one of his buddies in the Realms after he graduates. When he just?? Get full on tackled from the sky.
And like?
Huh.
THIS hasn't happened in a bit. Not since he's become king. Legit, no one dares. He's honestly kinda missed it. Alright, square up... Mr. Uuuuuh.... Who are you?
And it's this barely formed New Ghost. Still in that glitch-y goopy blob phase and everything. Is Baby. Why... why does this infant Want To Fight God? I mean. He Respects It(tm), no lie, but? Not exactly usual for him?
And it turns out? This dude is some rando hero. He basicly JUST died. By all rights SHOULD be resting and gathering his strength to Form Right. But he's so worried for his team mates and everyone else he CAN'T. Recognized a fellow Hero's Costume even at a distance.
Please. PLEASE! You have to help him! We have to WARN everybody!
And Danny is just? Oh no. This Actual Infant Baby is gonna Anxiety himself to Actual Second Death at this rate. Yes! Sure! Just CALM DOWN! Anything you need buddy! BREATHE.
And this dude? Who died? Is legit a minor player who got WAY too deep but refused to abandoned People In Need(tm). It happens. It HURTS. But he saved a LOT of lives before he went down. Him and his team were just some Minor Heros from Belarus. How they ended up in deep space? Even THEY couldn't tell you.
They couldn't even bring him home.
He forgives them.
He could NEVER blame his friends. Not for this. The planet is in danger. Some... some THING. An invasion. The League has to be made aware. He DIED helping a planet try to evacuate all that they could. He... at least he...
He can't remember if the Eggs got out. They... they're like babies. A whole room full of toddlers who couldn't run. They had to de-connect from the main building to lift it out. He can't... can't...
He saved them... right? Held on.. long enough? Why can't he.. he...
Danny has to make him focus be for the kid spirals. Don't think of your last moments. Purpose. You NEED to do something right now, right?
Right! The League! We gotta warn them! And... okay. Danny can totally do that. (What LEAGUE??!) He DEFINITELY knows who you are talking about and will tell them Right Away. YOU however are gonna rest up.
So he leaves the kiddo with Lunch Lady. Mother and Frightening Matriarch Extraordinaire. Lunch Box promises to SIT on him if he tries to sneak off. Good kid. Now eat your soup before you BECOME soup.
Time to bully the eyeballs. Whoms't the F*ck is this "league"? And where does he find it? Talk. He has sand and he's not afraid to use it. Don't MAKE him get out the pepper grinder! Yeah. That's what he THOUGHT.
After much, prolonged and unnecessary, whining and dramatic threatening... he gets a printed out map. Cheapskates even used flimsy paper. He gets there. Jaunt is even kinda nice. He says hi to a few folks he hasn't seen in a while.
Opens a portal.
Steps out.
Gets punched in the face. RUDE! He punches the flying blue man back. Dents their wall. Not even a LITTLE sorry about that now! See if HE does you a favor aga-... is that his Ex? John?
John! Constantine you B@STARD. YOU OWE ME 20 BUCKS. *Ten different hands slap a twenty on the table at his feet, including Constantine. Who is refusing to look at anybody.* Well, okay then. Debt payed. Gonna buy himself a shake or something, after this.
ANYWAY~ Good News Or Bad News?
He is met with silence. It's like they've never seen an ethereal, giant, glowing man with a suit that looks like a cut out of the night sky, step out of an eye searing rip in reality before. Man they're lives must be boring. But frankly? Danny can wait. It's not HIS reality that's gonna get messed up. He can take care of it if the wanna be Wah Babies. Good News or Bad News??? Pick one.
He sits back in the air and waits.
@stealingyourbones @cyrwrites
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inuyashaluver · 29 days
Note
Hey I absolutely adore your fics you are my favourite writer i was wondering if you could write a fic where reader has autism and there comfort person has always been there sister leah and best friend jen and nobody has figured out how to get through to them and they dont like meeting new people but thats until alessia arrives
she’s different - alessia russo
alessia russo x reader
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description: in which your sister notices a complete shift in you when a certain blondie makes their way into your heart
warnings: a little long! swearing, timelines don’t make sense but i am just a girl
a/n: hiya, lovely! thank you for all the love and request, it truly means so much to hear i’m your fav, what an absolute honour!! i hope i did this justice, please let me know if anything needs to be changed or altered, i’ll do it in a heartbeat! much love to you, gorgeous, enjoy ❤️
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you and your girlfriend, alessia, had a very special relationship. the two of you forming a bond that no one could have suspected. the people closest to you were even shocked with how much you and alessia stuck together from early on.
you were a sports photographer, and a good one at that. you’d always had love for taking photos, one of your main subjects being your sister, leah who was always more than willing to let you take photos of her while she trained, or during games.
while both of your siblings were sporty, you always resorted to academics. you were incredibly intelligent, excelling in school, your whole family was extremely proud of you.
photography started as a hobby in the side of your studies but you grew a love for it when people assured you your pictures were extremely good.
you experienced the world a little differently. from a young age, you struggled to connect to the people around you that weren’t your parents, brother or especially your sister.
you always found social situations and connections confusing, your siblings knew you inside and out so why would you need anyone else?
you often found social situations overwhelming if you weren’t with someone you knew, struggling to make friends.
the simple things that came easily to people were often a struggle to you, like maintaining eye contact or understanding body language occasionally when you were under stress.
these things were a constant anxiety and frustration for you in the beginning, feeling like something was wrong with you.
and so, when you were 13, you were taken to a specialist and were diagnosed with autism. it was from then on, the world began to make sense. the amount of love and support your family offered you helped you through the challenges of growing up diverse.
you could solace in familiarity, not really liking to step out of your comfort zone without easing into it slowly. one of the people that understood this well was leah, leah was your rock, your backbone.
she offered you stability, comfort and support even if she was just sitting next to you in silence. leah made you feel safe and understood, never really pressuring you into anything you didn’t want to.
when you were in university, you were working part time with both arsenal and england as a member of their media teams.
being apart of both media teams was comfortable for you, leah introducing them to you and being relieved when you got along with them. though this was hard to do, you were an absolute sweetheart.
they understood that sometimes you just needed to work in silence, letting you do what you did best and it really showed through your photos and videos. so much so, as soon as you graduated, they both hired you full time with a permanent position in both teams.
you absolutely loved it, having the opportunity to do what you loved and not feel judged. during the time you worked with arsenal, you were introduced to jen through your sister.
jen understood you like leah, not pressuring you and actually making an effort to understand you. you got along with all of leah’s friends but jen was the one that stuck.
though it didn’t come easily, pretty much everyone you were introduced to required some patience to see the real you. but once they did, it was worth it.
you’d met alessia through your sister of course, not offering her much more than a hello and small talk about the weather or how you wanted her to pose for campaign pictures for england.
alessia always had a special appreciation for you, she not only found you absolutely beautiful but she really appreciated how genuine you were.
from the short conversations you had together, alessia always felt a little more at ease. when she knew she was getting photographed which was often uncomfortable for her, she was relieved if you were the one taking the picture.
you thought alessia was gorgeous and it was one of the reasons you distanced yourself from her. she was close with leah so you’d talk to her if you had to, blushing without even realising.
she was also one of your favourite canvases, always listening to your instructions with a soft smile.
your sister didn’t even know you found the girl attractive, the one time she wasn’t able to read you completely. everything changed when alessia transferred from manchester united to arsenal.
you’d just moved out from living with leah into your own flat, one of the scariest things you’ve ever had to do but leah and jen, before she moved helped you through it.
when jen got her new contract, your heart absolutely broke, you’d cried in leah’s arms for days after she moved and you decided you needed a change, that’s why you moved out.
this didn’t mean you didn’t see leah all the time, you did at work but she’d always rock up to your house with snacks in hand for a movie marathon or just to sit and chat.
you often called and facetimed but nothing beat seeing her in person. leah found it cute how happy and excited you got seeing her every morning, always making her feel special.
“hi, bunny!” leah smiled brightly (a nickname she gave you after your childhood bunny toy that you absolutely loved). she pulled you into a hug and you felt yourself go limp in her arms, she lifts you off the ground and you laugh brightly.
she hugs you tightly just the way you loved it, one of your stims that she knew calmed you down easily.
“morning, lee” you giggle when she swung you side to side for a moment before placing you on the ground with a quick kiss to your forehead.
“so miss photographer, what are your plans today?” leah asks you, hands on her hips as she looked down at you.
“well, we have a new transfer i have to shoot for, photos and videos” you smile, making leah smile too knowing how much you loved your job. “oo, do you know who it is yet?” leah says excitedly, hearing rumours of a transfer but not knowing who it was.
“no, not yet” you sigh, slightly nervous knowing you had to introduce yourself to a potentially new person.
“do you need me to come with you?” leah questions, her hand squeezing your shoulder gently. “no i’m okay,” you smile appreciatively, “my little sissy is growing too fast” she coos, pinching your cheek that you quickly slapped away with a scowl.
“leah, i’m 24” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as she continued to tease you. you both chatted back and forth before you got called by your coworker, gaining a little shove from leah towards her that you sent another glare at, making your older sister send you an exaggerated air kiss.
you and your coworker discussed the basics of the shoot until you finally reached the set, seeing a blonde getting fitted in the iconic arsenal kit.
“uh, hi, i’m (y/n), i’ll be shooting with you today” you say gently as you approached the girl, not wanting to scare her, the blonde turned quickly at the sound of your voice.
“(y/n)!” your eyes widen when she turns, “alessia?” you breathe out, the girl beams at you brightly, pulling you into a quick hug that made you tense a little until a comforting smell of caramel and vanilla easily made you feel at home.
you hadn’t seen alessia in a few months, that didn’t mean your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest when the girl locked eyes with you that you were quick to divert away.
you weren’t completely comfortable with her yet, so prolonged eye contact was out of the question.
“i’m so happy to see you, how have you been?” she grins, you nod at her, “i’m good thank you, and you?” sounding a little rehearsed, and it was, alessia made you shy.
she chuckles lightly, “really good, thank you, happy to be here” her smile was infectious, you couldn’t help the little grin playing at the corners of your lips.
you both lightly conversed as you prepared for the shoot, feeling yourself feel more comfortable around her in a way that surprised you, and alessia.
when you walked alessia into the gym talking and laughing softly, leah’s eyes were wide with shock. one, seeing alessia. two, seeing you laugh with alessia. three, both of you blushing like you’d just gone for a run, which she knew you didn’t.
leah scrambled up towards the both of you, pulling you into a headlock, “see you’re finally on the right side, less?” leah grins, smiling as you struggle in her grasp.
“leah! get off man!” you groan, alessia chuckles at your struggle, her hand gently grabbing your forearm, managing to pull you out of leah’s headlock.
her hand lingered for a moment before she let go, you sent her an appreciative smile before giving leah a shove on the shoulder.
“needed a change” alessia sighed, her and leah engaging in small talk while you just observed, looking back and forth between the two blondes and they laughed along with each other.
“so, did my sister treat you well?” leah teases, her arm wounding around your shoulder, you roll your eyes at leah, alessia sends you a soft smile.
“she always does” your cheeks go a little pink at that, feeling yourself cower a little further into leah that didn’t go unnoticed.
leah looked down at you challengingly but chose to dismiss it for now, you’d had romantic partners in the past but none of them really stuck. she’d seen you all shy and blushy before but never like this.
as the days and weeks went by, alessia was able to chip away at barriers you’d carefully constructed for years. she didn’t even know she was doing it, but what she did notice was you becoming more chatty with her, actually holding eye contact a little more than you usually do.
leah was completely shocked, in a good way, of course. all she wanted for her little sister was to be happy and from the looks of it, you were getting that.
“morning, lessi” you wave at her, alessia is quick to send you the wave back as she entered the doors at the arsenal training grounds, she pulled you into a quick hug,
“morning, (y/n/n)” she giggled as she pulled away, both of you falling into conversation as you walked alongside each other, you were photographing their training session today for socials.
when you both made it outside, you let in a sharp inhale, it was colder than you thought, alessia observed as your body shook lightly from the crisp air, shaking her head lightly at how you’d only worn a thin jacket.
she was quick to shrug hers off, draping it around your shoulders without a second thought. “lessi, no” you protest, trying to push the jacket back in her hands but alessia was quick to slip your arms through it and zip it up. “lessi, yes” she chuckles,
you pout at her slightly, “now you’ll be cold, lessi,” alessia smiles at you softly, “i’ll be running around, silly, i’ll be warm in no time” her arm around your shoulder as you still continued to protest her jacket, though you had to admit, having the smell of alessia flooding your senses was comforting.
“you really are a williamson, so stubborn” she teased, you laugh at that, nudging her with your shoulder as you both giggled.
leah watched the entire interaction with a soft smile, waving at you slightly and watching as you perked up at seeing her.
you run over to leah as she hoists you up in another hug, “so you have a sister?” leah teases, “uh, yeah, you?” you say a little confused, leah laughs loudly, pinching your cheek at your cluelessness.
“i know, bunny, i’m teasing you” she grins, “you and less have gotten really close?” your cheeks go pink at that, shifting the weight between your feet as you looked down, “she’s my friend” you say shyly, “are you sure?” leah whispers, dipping her head to look at you properly.
“i-i don’t know” you say softly, your sister pulls you into another tight hug, her hand rubbing up and down your back, “it’s okay, you’ll figure it out” you nod into her shoulder, moving away to set up your camera.
throughout training, you took photos of everyone, your photos always a favourite in the media since they always felt like more than just a photo, feeling like you always captured the person rather than the action.
you were sitting outside while editing the photos before alessia pulled up next to you. “hi, pretty girl, what’re you up to?” alessia watched as you tensed for a minute, glancing over at her quickly with a nervous expression that had her heart beating rapidly.
“oh, i’m editing” you clear your throat, getting nervous when alessia scoots a little closer to you to look at your computer screen.
she noticed you were editing a photo of her, and the sidebar was almost full of her pictures. her heart fluttered at the thought of you focusing on her, swallowing before glancing at you quickly.
“you look pretty in this one” you blurt out, immediately regretting it and pinching your nose bridge out of embarrassment.
alessia’s face was burning, muttering out a thank you as you both sat quietly for a minute before you both sparked another conversation to ease the tension.
“hi, gorgeous” alessia grinned as she arrived to england camp, sending you a little wink, “hi, lessi” you smile brightly, this time pulling her into a hug by yourself. she was pleasantly surprised, hugging you tightly and feeling you melt into her embrace.
“did you get here okay?” she says softly in your ear, pulling away with a hand placed on the small of your back as she walks with you.
“yeah, i came with leah” you smile at her, making the blonde smile back at you gently, “did you get here okay?” you ask back, she nods, her hand rubbing up and down your back, “mhm, better now that you’re here” she smiles, your cheeks dusting with pink as alessia’s eyes met yours.
“lee, i think alessia broke your sister” keira grins walking behind the two of you with leah and georgia next to her. leah chuckles fondly, “i think she’s got a little crush” leah whispers, georgia and keira make eye contact and smile,
“well alessia definitely feels the same, why hasn’t anything happened yet?” georgia questions, leah shrugs before giving them a warning glare, “let my sister figure this out herself, please” the two girls huff but nod, knowing you needed a little more time to come to grasp your feelings.
alessia’s arm wounds around your waist before she had to go to her room to unpack, “you know, we should do something just us two, we're in spain after all”
you look at her confused, “don’t you want to spend time with ella? you haven’t seen her in a while” alessia chuckles affectionately, shaking her head as she looked at you.
“you’re a little clueless aren’t you?” alessia grins, your face flushing, worried you just missed out on a social cue, a potentially important one.
you recounted the entire interaction between the two of you, picking it apart to see what you missed before alessia brought you out of your head.
“(y/n)” she said, leaning a little closer to you, “when i said just us two, i meant like a date, beautiful” she smiles, you were completely silent, mouth a little agape in the hotel lobby.
you were shocked, the thought of alessia returning your feelings making you extremely nervous. due to your prolonged silence, alessia grew nervous, her grip on you loosening.
“hey, if you’re not interested, that’s completely okay” she utters, “i won’t pressure you into anything you don’t want to do” she affirms,
“no! no! i’m very interested” you stumble on your words, “ i’d love to do something with you” you say softly, feeling like your body was on fire.
you began fiddling with the ends of your clothes, alessia’s hand moving it to hold your hand instead, smiling fondly at you.
“great, i’ll text you the time and meet me down here later?” you nod as she moved a loose strand of hair off your face, kissing your cheek quickly.
“okay,” you breathe out, her hand giving you a gentle squeeze before she moved towards the elevators making sure to smile at you another time before she really walks off.
“holy shit” you say in shock, running off frantically to try and find your sister, realising she was watching from the other side of the lobby.
“leah, help me!” you gasp, leah effectively calming you down while reminding you to breathe, “hey, slowly, what happened?” leah places both hands on your shoulders,
“alessia just asked me on a date” you whisper shouted, leah gives you the biggest, cheesiest smile, it made you feel a little uneasy.
“aren’t you supposed to be all protective right now, telling me she’s not good for me or something?” you remark, only making leah laugh, both of you knowing alessia was perfect.
“bunny, she’s perfect for you” leah admits, watching you shy away from her slightly, “really?” leah nods, giving you an encouraging expression that truly made everything feel okay.
“lessi has been flirting with you for weeks now” leah chuckles when your eyes grow wide, internally cursing yourself for not noticing the signs.
leah talked you through it, making sure you were completely comfortable before you went on the date.
you went on the date with alessia and to say you fell in love with her more every couple of seconds was an understatement. alessia was so gentle and genuine with you, patient and kind.
you had this girl in a chokehold and it was very much the same with you. alessia loved that she got to learn more about you, and she wanted to for the rest of her life so to speak.
for a couple of weeks, you and alessia went on dates every other day. the two of you growing so close, it truly surprised everyone around you. she asked you to be her girlfriend about a month later and giggled at how enthusiastically you agreed.
you’d been dating for about a year and things couldn’t have been better. everyone saw a new side of both you and alessia and it was incredibly endearing to see how in love you were with each other.
“bunny, alessia’s not the only one on the team you know?” leah teased as your lens was focused on alessia with an affectionate smile. “fuck off, lee” you laugh, taking a photo of leah flipping you off with a grin.
alessia laughed at the interaction between the two of you, jogging up to stand in front of you with a bright smile.
“baby” she grinned, her hand cupping your cheek as she pressed a sweet kiss on your lips, “babe, i’m working” you giggle as alessia continued to press kisses to your lips and cheeks,
“keep working then” she chuckles, moving to stand behind you, her arms wrapped around your waist as her head rested on your shoulder.
you smile as you continue to take photos of the england girls, only lasting for a couple of seconds before leah had to physically drag alessia away from you.
“i love you both but star girl needs to train” leah mocks, flicking your forehead with her arm wrapped tightly around alessia to drag her off,
“lee, wait!” you stop her, smiling before pressing a quick kiss to alessia’s lips, your sister dry retching as alessia sent heart eyes your way.
“okay, you can take her” you say cheekily, laughing as you hear leah scolding alessia for ‘corrupting’ her sweet sister while alessia shook her head in amusement.
alessia made you laugh like no one else, alessia made you feel more comfortable as yourself like you’d never experienced.
you and alessia loved each other more than anyone. even leah was willing to be a close second to your girlfriend.
although in the beginning you left alessia at a distance, you were so grateful for her persistence in breaking down your barriers, even if it took you a while.
you both knew it was a forever kind of thing. and so did everyone else.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
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alessia: always the photographer xx
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yourname: i know a pretty canvas when i see one
↳ alessia: such a flirt, baby!
↳ yourname: your fault
leahwilliamsonn: sister stealer
↳ yourname: you literally told me to go on the date
↳ leahwilliamsonn: hush, bunny, i’m talking
↳ alessia: lunch tomorrow?
↳ leahwilliamsonn: you’re paying.
↳ alessia: deal
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Text
Keep them away (Max Verstappen)
Even though it was part of his job, Max's rules were clear: no one could get close to you or the children
Note: english is not my first language. A couple of blurbs originated this one! I'm not sure how I feel about it, if I like it or not tbh...
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
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Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"I want to talk to you about something, liefje", Max said as you walked around the bedroom, laying out your clothes for the next day and taking off the jewellery you didn't like to sleep with.
"Is everything alright?", you asked pulling the covers and joining him in bed, holding his hand in yours and interlocking your fingers.
"It didn't occur to me until last week that now Finn can walk into the paddock without being on your arms or mine, and the stroller can only hide so much, and there will come a time when it will be the same for Julia, and I don't want the kids' faces on media in such a free and uncontrolled way", he admitted.
The last Grand Prix you attended made it real tp you. It seemed such a big step and something you thought people would respect intuitively, but the moment the photographers swarmed you and you had difficulty walking along the paddock to get to RedBull, you had enough.
"Me neither, but I get what you mean. Last week, I had to keep telling Finn to come close to me so I could sort of cover his face", you offered, "is there something we can make for that, though?", you wondered.
"Yes, I spoke to the team and they know about these forms where you can grant photographic allowances to certain photographers if they want to record or take pictures if we go down that route - it states who is allowed and what terms and conditions they can do it in inside the paddock. And there's also one for outside the paddock, if we sign it, it will mean no one can take pictures of you or the kids outside of the paddock and we'll be supported legally in case someone breaches it", Max assured.
"I like the sound of that, it does soothe my heart", you tapped your chest with your palm.
"I'll have them draw up the forms and then we can go over them together and sign then", he smiled, pulling you to his chest.
"I'm not saying we are keeping them away from the world - even though that would hardly be an issue - but having a restricted set of people in who we trust is doable", you mused, resting your head on his chest completely and kissing his skin, "I don't want them to do whatever they please with my little ones", you grumbled.
"Mama bear is out, hm?", Max chuckled, "but I agree, love, I wouldn't want it either".
.
"I can get the stroller, Sophie", you called for your mother in-law, letting her take Finn's hand instead as you walked out of the hotel, Max by your side as you strolled around the ses front, making some time before your lunch reservation.
Max wasn't racing until the next weekend, so you were making the most out of family time you could. To make things easier for you on the flight home, Sophie offered to come with you so you wouldn't have to fly back on your own with two kids since Max was flying straight to the city where the Grand Prix was being held.
"Is she going to fall asleep on the way there?", you peeped at the little girl, eyes droopy even though she tried her best to look at you and Max, "she didn't sleep all that well, so probably", your husband shrugged his shoulders, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you walked behind Sophie and Finn.
At first, Max thought it was his mind making things up and that people were taking pictures of the beach and the architecture details, so he set his guard down. When you sat down for lunch, though, it was obvious.
"They're taking pictures of us, aren't they?", Max asked as he pointed with his eyes to the group of three people holding cameras, suddenly pulling them from eyesight the moment they saw you both stare at them as one of the waiters came to the table.
"Mr. Verstappen, I'm sorry to bother you, but that group is asking if they can come closer for some pictures and it didn't seem like it was our place to decide that", he explained as Max sighed, "thank you for that - I'll go talk to them just now. We didn't want any of this to happen or for you, your colleagues or your clients to be bothered by this, it wasn't our intention", Max assured as the waiter nodded before excusing himself.
"I'm going to talk to them, I'll be right back", he told you, kissing the top of your head and stepping closer to them.
"Hello, it has come to my understanding - correct me if I'm wrong even though I'm probably right - that you're taking pictures of me and my family, and I won't allow it", he stated firmly but politely, not wanting to cause a scene despite his blood boiling.
"It was just of you, we'll edit everything else out, if we could jus-", one of them tried and Max drew the line there.
"We have made it clear! When my family is in the paddock, Finn, Julia and Y/N can be photographed by a closed group of photographers - and I know who they are because we allowed them and none of you are them! We are outside of the paddock so no one is allowed to take pictures of them to begin with, and then you're disrespecting the other people who work and who are eating here. We have given strict guidelines that are clear as we won't accept this!", Max spoke sternly.
Back at the table, Sophie took the pencil case out of the backpack so Finn could draw while you waited for the food,
"Why is papa talking to those people? Do we know them?", Finn asked, "they're taking pictures of us and papa and mama don't want that, so papa is telling them that", you explained, knowing your clever boy would catch up with it sooner than later and knowing honesty would be the way to go.
"You'd think they would get the boundaries you've set", Sophie told you, "especially with the kids around, it's a no brainer".
"They're always looking for anything to make a big great story of - if those pictures ever see daylight, they'll probably start calling me names and making assumptions they have no business or information to make", you groaned.
Max came back, sitting on the chair you saved for him, "they really didn't want to budge and they kept asking if they could "just take a few more" like I hadn't just told them that what they were doing was breaching agreements", he groaned lightly to make sure Finn didn't hear too much, looking at the stroller to see Julia was still taking a nap.
"Did you see the e-mail I sent you, liefje?", Max asked over FaceTime now that he had wished goodnight to both kids, meaning he had your attention all to himself now.
"I saw it was a statement, I didn't get to read anything else", you added, getting your iPad to read it properly.
"The team helped me make a statement about your privacy and the kids', so nothing else happens again", he stated.
Earlier this week, the social media department at RedBull noticed a photo of you circulating the press platforms, and judging by the location, you were indeed back home and not somewhere in the paddock to surprise Max, making the photo a breach of contract.
"Hopefully they take the hint", Max sighed, keeping his calm and collected attitude he wanted you to have too. For anyone else, Max always seemed rash to the point some considered rude. But when it involved his family, he knew how to go about it, wanting his children to learn and know he was protecting you and how he would never allow anyone to disrespect you like that.
"We'll be fine, and I genuinely hope that, from the way we mentioned legal consequences, people actually take it seriously", you shrugged your shoulders. It wasn't that you didn't care about it, but rather you realized there was only so much you could control, and you wouldn't let that control your life, "we'll see how it goes, okay?", you checked over, "anyway, how does the car look for qualifying?", you changed the subject as the cats sat on your lap.
.
"Mama, I'm scared", Finn muttered, clinging closer to you and hiding his face on your neck. That was all it took for you to let your mama bear instincts out, holding your son as you walked past them, looking for a security member that could escort you to the RedBull hospitality as it was harder to push the stroller when you had to carry Finn as well.
"Excuse me, Excuse me!", you yelled, "I'm sure you know you're not allowed to take pictures, so I would appreciate it if you didn't do it, much less when my children are here!", you spoked, catching a few photographers off guard and the attention of one of the security staff by the entrance.
"I'll help you with her if that's okay", he quesioned as his hand went straight to the stroller, "yes, please", you breathed out, holding Finn close to you and whispering soothing words on his ear, "it's okay, my love, we're okay".
Stepping inside the hospitality, you set your things down and sat Finn down on the sofa so you could get Julia in your arms, soothing her cries.
"Thank you so much, it was getting crazy out there", you said, holding your daughter's head to your chest and bouncing her.
"No problem, glad I could help", the security guard excused himself to go back to his spot as you looked at Finn.
"Are you okay, love?", you wondered as Julia's cries quieted down.
"I didn't like how they were yelling and running", he told you, "I thought papa said they only did it when we were there", he pointed to the people walking outside, "That's true, they shouldn't do it outside", you explained, "I'm sorry they scared you, but you're safe with me and with papa, okay?", you added, kissing his once again on his forehead as Max appeared.
"Hey", he kissed the top of your head, Julia's and then Finn's, "I heard what happened. Are you two okay?", he asked, looking at Finn who pulled him into a hug, "Finn was a bit shaken up by it, but we've taken some deep breaths and we are going to stay inside for today, isn't that right, love?", you saw him nod.
Finn fell asleep on top of him soon after, "I have spoken to the lawyers, they will be taking the legal actions necessary for this situation. Are you sure you're okay?", Max questioned again.
"We are, Max. It shook him up a little bit because they were so close to us - and the stroller could only keep them so far -, and I told them a few times that we were outside of the paddock, but they just wouldn't listen", you frowned, "it's not great, but if this means you guys are safe, I don't care about anything else. I want you safe, all of you", he smiled, kissing your cheek and pulling you so your side rested against his torso.
"I hate having to yell at people, poor Julia just looked at me like I was mad and Finn was a little shaken up", you mumbled, "but they wouldn't move away, no matter how many times I told them to, only when the security guard was near us was I able to free up space from them".
"Don't worry about that, they're the ones in the wrong, not us", Max comforted.
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hotchnisslvr · 1 month
Text
“Power Struggle”
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Rating: M
Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 7.2k
Summary: For months, you and SSA Aaron Hotchner have been toeing the boundary between romance and your careers. When the unsub that's been killing women in Michigan by way of replicating Zeus' punishments from Greek mythology takes you as his next victim, it's up to Hotch and the rest of the BAU team to find you before it's too late. Hurt/comfort and angst with happy ending.
Tags: graphic depictions of violence, reader kidnapped by unsub, blood, implied SA, nudity, electrocution, scarring, hospitals
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“You’re telling me someone is out here killing people to recreate, what? Greek legends?” Sheriff McCullen’s brow pinches as he shakes his head.
“Legends are stories often loosely based on a real person or event to teach us a lesson. Mythology is based on supernatural or sacred lore and explains why things came to be. It’s a common mistake.” Reid speaks quickly and methodically, as if reciting from a textbook. “It’s straight out of the mythos,” he explains, his voice tinged with something akin to excitement as he approaches the whiteboard where photos of the victims had been pinned up for review. Using a ballpoint pen as a pointer, he taps the first image of the first victim. “Regina Manford, she was found tied to a boulder in Craig Lake State Park with her liver removed. Animal predation showed birds had pecked at her while she was still alive. In Greek mythology, Zeus did this to Prometheus to exact revenge on him after he stole fire to give to man.”
Reid moves on to the next victim, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did so. “Sarah Walters was found bound to an old water wheel that had been set on fire. Greek Mythology suggests this is a copy of Zeus’ punishment for Ixion.”
“And what did he do to deserve that?” asks the sheriff.
Reid’s lips form a tight line. “He was invited into Zeus’ home on Olympus. After attempting to seduce his wife, Hera, Zeus punished him by binding him to a wheel of fire cursed to spin forever toward the underworld. She might’ve smiled or even looked at him, and in his delusion believed she was a seductress deserving of punishment.”
“So, what? This guy sees himself as some sort of god?”
“We believe that is his delusion, yes,” answers Emily. “Each victim also bore signs of sexual trauma, this is something Zeus is also renowned for in the mythology. Our unsub thinks he’s infallible and that these women’s lives and deciding when and how these women live and die is his divine right.”
“Do we know if there will be more victims?” asks one of the detectives.
You step forward from your place between Morgan and Hotchner. “Given the number of victims Zeus punished within the mythology, we can assume he is not finished. These kills are two weeks apart. It’s been twelve days since the last body was found. We can only assume he’s currently hunting for his next victim. And when he finds one, he convinces her to go to a second location. It's once they leave the primary location that he attacks. In each case, the victim suffered a blow to the head, leaving a uniquely shaped gash in her forehead. This suggests that he strikes them with a distinct blunt object or even a ring that’s on his hand.”
“We need every man out on the streets,” Hotch states, his eyes hard as he scans the group of law enforcement gathered to receive the profile. “He stalks his victims in the city, often on the weekends when night life is busiest. He’s charming. He has no problem approaching women because he views himself as a deity and carries himself with the arrogance and confidence of one. He’s white, in his early to mid 30s, good looking, charming, and likely has a career that would’ve provided him with medical training.”
A female detective with short blonde hair sticks her pencil in the air. “How do we know that?”
“The incisions made on Regina’s body were clean, precise, and showed no signs of hesitation,” explains Rossi. “The M.E. also informed us that the hepatic artery was clamped off, meaning,” Rossi hesitates before continuing on, “meaning Regina Mansford was alive as her liver was being cut from her body.”
An uncomfortable murmuring breaks out. Hotch raises a hand, silencing them. Your mouth goes dry and you swallow, hoping your team doesn’t notice the way your eyes dilate when you look at him and the silent way in which he can command a room.
“This is why we need every available officer on the streets. Increase units in the downtown area. Have plain clothes officers on the streets. That’s where we’ll be. Thank you.” Hotch tucks his head and sweeps out of the bullpen, the rest of the team trailing after him into the conference room.
“Where do you want us?” asks Morgan as you shut the door to the conference room.
“Reid, I want you here working the geographical profile. See if there’s anything we missed that could bring us closer to a precise location where he’s kidnapping his victims. Rossi and JJ, I want you to go back to Sarah’s apartment and see if we missed anything that tells us where she was exactly on the night she was kidnapped. Derek and Emily take the north side of downtown.” He inclines his head toward you. “You and I will take the south side.”
His eyes linger on yours a moment longer than they ought to have. You dip your head and swiftly exit the room, jacket in hand as you prepare to brave not only the frigid Michigan cold but working one one-on-one with Hotch. This had been going on for months; subtle looks, brief touches where his fingers would slide over yours while passing off a case file…yet a part of you still wasn’t sure if it would ever go any further than that. You spend so much of your time with the team, it would be so easy to mistake one gesture for something that it wasn’t. Yet you knew that wasn’t true. You know behavior. You’re trained to recognize the subtlest of shifts in demeanor and body language and you know exactly what is going on.
You jump as someone pushes through the front door of the precinct. Emily’s gentle laugh disrupts your rumination. “Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She moves to stand closer to you as she zips her jacket. “The guys went to grab the cars.”
You nod and shove your hands in your pockets.
Emily arches a perfectly manicured brow. “What’s up?”
You school your expression and feign nonchalance. “Nothing, I just want to catch this guy before he hurts anyone else.”
Emily’s brow furrows and then straightens, a glimmer of knowing in her eye. “Something tells me there’s a different guy on your mind.”
Your heart skips a beat and you nearly choke on the crisp winter air. “What? I don’t—“ Your words falter as Derek and Hotch arrive, the SUVs humming to a gentle stop at the curb.
Emily eyes you, a sly smile curving one side of her red lips. “We’ll talk later.” She winks and steps forward to open the passenger side door, sliding inside and disappearing into the dark interior.
As you turn to move toward the SUV, Hotch is there, opening the door for you. The gesture surprises you, but it shouldn’t. He’d been doing little things like this for weeks now. You nod your head in thanks and as you turn your body to slide past him, his hand catches your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers glide against the small of your back, guiding your movement into the vehicle.
His hard eyes meet yours as he shuts the door and you’re grateful for the shadows inside the car as you feel your face flush bright red. Hotch slides into the driver’s seat with ease. He shifts the car into gear and pulls onto the road, heading in the direction of downtown.
After a few minutes, you open your mouth to disrupt the silence, but his cell rings. Hotch answers and places it on speaker as JJ’s voice floats through the receiver, “Hotch, we think we’ve got something at Sarah Walters apartment.”
“What’s that?” you ask.
“There’s a sticky note in her trash can,” a garbled sound echoes through the speaker as she shifts the phone. The sound of paper crinkles as she reads, “Tony’s at 9, does that mean anything? Has Garcia come across a Tony in any of her research into the victims’ lives? Maybe an Anthony?”
An image of a neon sign flashes across your mind’s eye. “It’s a bar,” you say matter-of-factly.
“A bar?”
“I remember seeing the sign on our drive-in. It’s a bar on the south side of downtown. That could be where he’s meeting these women.”
“We’re only a few blocks away, we’ll head there now. Thank you, JJ.” He hangs up and slips the phone into his jacket pocket.
“How do you want to play this?” you ask.
“We go in, make observations, see if we can identify anyone that matches the profile.”
You smirk and a small laugh escapes your lips.
“Something funny?” Hotch asks, his voice low in his throat.
You purse your lips, pausing before you proceed. “If we go in looking like feds, we’ll scare this guy away.” You tilt your head, considering. “Well, one of us anyway.”
A slight twitch in his brow is the only indication your words have just barely gotten under his skin. “Touched a nerve, sir?”
As the traffic light ahead blinks red, he eases the car to a stop. He breathes out slowly, the amber glow of the stoplight reflecting in his eyes. In less than two heartbeats, he thrusts the car into park and with both hands clasps your face, drawing you in to kiss you with such fervor white spots dot your vision. It takes a moment to process the heat of his mouth on yours and the way his tongue slides between your lips, and before you can truly reciprocate the light turns green and he pulls back, his breathing ragged against your mouth as his forehead touches yours. “Be careful when and how you choose to call me sir.”
Before you can exhale, his eyes are on the road again and you’re driving deeper into downtown.
“Understood,” and then you add, almost imperceptibly, “sir.”
A small smile quirks at the corner of his lips, but he says nothing more as you approach your destination.
It's nearing 9:30pm when you pull up on the street parallel to Tony’s. People trickle in and out of the bar in groups of twos and threes; most are young, in their mid to late twenties.
“Right,” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to exit the vehicle. “Stay here.”
“Excuse me?” Hotch asks, reaching over your lap and grabbing your wrist to stay your hand from popping the door open. Your breathing stills and he just barely turns his face toward yours. “Since when do you give me orders?”
Unsure where the confidence to challenge him comes from, you lean in near his ear. You swallow once before speaking. “I think you like taking them.” Feeling incredibly brazen, you nip at his ear once and as the unexpected gesture disarms him; flick your wrist out of his grasp and pop the door open. You slide out of the car and are immediately greeted by the frigid January air eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms. Extending an arm overhead to hang on to the frame of the SUV; you lean down into the cab of the vehicle. “I’ve got you right here,” you say as you tap the hidden earpiece. “Let me know if you see anyone from the outside that fits the profile.”
Hotch eyes you and there’s a fierceness in his gaze. You wonder if he’s thinking of how he’ll ultimately retaliate for your little role reversal now that he’s gone and upped the ante in this little game of cat and mouse. “See you soon,” you wink and slam the door shut.
As you approach the bar, you make sure your coat is buttoned in a way that hides your sidearm and credentials from sight. The bouncer doesn’t even pretend to ask for an ID as you approach and move through the front door with ease. As you cross through the threshold, your senses are assaulted by the smell of beer on tap, the sharp tang of liquor, grease, and an amalgamation of perfumes and colognes.
Immediately you begin scanning the room. You note the layout of the bar: three exits for patrons, the one you just came in through, one near the bathrooms for cigarette smokers, and an emergency exit on the far right wall near to the kitchen. There are three pool tables all of which are occupied as well as three dart boards along the far wall. Groups of friends engage one another and dates carry on without a hitch. You approach the bar, which is centered along the far wall. Stools line the high countertop and behind the bar, two women work to fulfill the never-ending drink orders. You approach the bar and slide into one of the empty seats, relaxing your shoulders as you do so, and order a rum and coke that you don’t plan on drinking.
After a moment the bartender drops a cocktail napkin in front of you and places the drink on top. You thank her and stir the contents of the drink with the swizzle stick popped inside.
“Is this seat taken?” an unfamiliar voice causes the hair on the back of your neck to prickle and you know immediately that it’s him.
Painting on a saccharine sweet smile, you turn toward the voice. A white man, standing at about 6’2”, is smiling down at you. The neon lights behind the bar reflect in his blue-gray eyes and his honey blonde hair falls in soft waves to his shoulders. “Please,” you say demurely and gesture toward the seat. You tell him your name and continue smiling.
“Ronan Carlson,” he introduces himself as he slides in beside you and adjusts the lapels on his leather jacket, a fake Rolex peeking out from his sleeve. He’s preening, you think to yourself. The bartender approaches from behind the bar and he smiles, the curve of his lips the opening act of his charming performance. “I’ll have what she’s having, thank you.” He pulls a roll of cash from the inner pocket of his jacket, flips through several bills, and pulls a $100 bill free before sliding it across the counter to her.
The bartender’s eyes widen in surprise and he winks at her. She nods her thanks and turns to make his drink.
“That was very kind of you,” I say, stirring my drink for the thirteenth time.
He shrugs and tips the baseball cap he’s wearing down over his eyes and you know it’s to obstruct the view the cameras have of him. “It’s only money, and I think I may have made her night.” He inclines his head toward the bartender whose head is bent close to the other woman’s. She’s smiling wide and shows her the $100 bill.
Internally, you roll your eyes hard, but externally you smile and look at him from beneath your lashes. “You must have a great job, what do you do for work?”
His hand flexes as he sets his drink down on the counter and you note the two chunky platinum rings he wears on his right hand. There are symbols etched into them offset by different colored stones, but you don’t want him to catch you staring as he answers, “I’m in business for myself these days,” he says with no further explanation. “Though I used to be in the military.”
You feign surprise, though you were hopeful he’d continue to divulge information. “The military, wow. Let me guess,” you pause and allow your eyes to slowly scan him from head to toe. You remember the profile. “Army…medic.”
“Reign it in,” you hear Hotchner’s voice through the earpiece. “Be mindful of how much you reveal to him. Don’t let him know you know more about him than he’s letting on.”
You watch him assess you and your read into him. One blonde brow creeps up toward his hairline and that wicked smile curves his lips again. “Excellent guess, how do you figure?”
Leaning on to your forearms, you push your drink aside and slide your hand over his and you don’t miss the way his fingers tense at your touch.
“It’s the hands,” you say coyly. “You look like you know how to handle yourself.” He relaxes under your touch and a heat ignites in his eyes that makes your stomach churn, but you don’t let it show on your face. “You look like you know how to handle a lot of things.”
He licks his lips and turns the ring on his finger. “Tell you what,” he says as he picks up his drink. He places the glass to his lips and downs its contents. “Why don’t we get out of here?” He looks down at you from beneath dark lashes. “And I’ll show you just how much I can handle.”
You stand up and flash him a grin. “Let me quickly freshen up and I’ll meet you out front.”
His lips quirk into a smirk, “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
You smile as you slip away toward the bathroom. As you push through the crowd you inform Hotch that the unsub is on his way out.
“There’s a line growing out the door,” he answers over the earpiece. “Does the description match the profile?”
“To a T,” you answer as you push past a couple with their tongues in each other's mouths. The amount of patrons has increased dramatically over the last hour. The volume of the music makes it hard to hear through the earpiece. You push your way into the restroom and are surprised to find it empty. Fortunately, the outside noise is muffled. You begin to describe Ronan’s appearance and note the jacket and hat he’s wearing. “He’s wearing two oddly shaped rings,” you add. “I think it’s what’s caused the unusual injury to the victims’ faces.”
“I’ve got him. He’s cutting through the line toward the parking lot.” You hear the car door open and slam.
“Got it, I’ll be right there.”
“Good work,” Hotch says over the open line.
You smile to yourself as you unbutton your jacket, glad to be on the receiving end of his praise. For a split second you wonder what else you could be on the receiving end of if you continue to play this game with him. After the case, you remind yourself. Priorities. Priority number one is getting this sick bastard off the street, and he’s right here within your grasp. You shoulder the door as you reach for your gun, positioning your thumb over the rotating hood to dislodge your weapon from its holster.
Over the speakers, an employee is calling to celebrate someone’s birthday. The crowd is distracted and pushing toward the source of celebration. The bar erupts into an off key rendition of Happy Birthday but you don’t hear it as 30,000 volts of electricity course through your veins. Your muscles spasm and lock up as you fall forward. Pain radiates from your abdomen in waves that crash over you again and again. You try to tell your body what to do as strong arms catch you and pull you into a chest that smells like cigarette smoke, but your limbs don’t cooperate. You feel his nose root into your hair as his lips find your ear. “How’s that for capable?”
As he shoulders your weight and steers you out through the emergency exit you hear Hotch’s voice in your ear. “It’s not him!” There’s an edge of panic in his voice as he says your name. “Do you copy? It’s not him. He gave another man $500 to wear his hat and jacket into the parking lot. It’s not him. Do you have eyes on him?”
Dark spots the edges of your vision as he drags your dead body weight. You try to focus all of your ability on getting out any words that can signal to Hotchner what’s happening, any at all but your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton.”
You hear the tinkling of keys and a door slide open. Pain rattles through your skull as he throws you into the back of whatever vehicle he’s operating. Pain slices through your wrists as zip ties slice through the skin there. Through tunnel vision you see him leering at you. He’s backlit by the streetlights.
As his fist flies toward you, you finally manage one word.
“Aaron.”
When you come to, the first thing you feel before the splitting pain in your head threatens to cleave your mind in two, is cold.
Your mouth is dry, but as you move to lick your lips you realize you can’t because there’s a gag in your mouth. You try to move your hands, but they’re bound too. Zip ties cut into each wrist, securing them at your sides on the legs of a wooden chair. When you try to shift the chair, you learn that it’s bolted to the floor and your legs are spread open; zip ties at your knees and ankles keep them apart. Except for your bra and underwear, you’re naked. He undressed you. You feel the wound from the stun gun before you glance down at your stomach and see the two bloody pinpricks in your abdomen. You feel your heart rate increase as panic begins to set in. Do not panic , you tell yourself as you take a steadying breath. The minute you start to panic, you’re dead. You close your eyes and piece together the last dredges of your memory.
Tony’s. Sitting at the bar. The unsub. Ronan. Hotch was in pursuit. And then there was just pain.
Hotch.
The pain in your skull is overwhelming and you’re not sure if you can feel the earpiece anymore.
“Hotch,” you attempt to say through the gag. “Hotch, do you read me?”
You close your eyes as hot tears brim along your lash line when there’s no response. The signal is out of range or the unsub found the earpiece and removed it.
A door creaks open on squeaky hinges and your eyes dart toward the source of the sound. Ronan walks through the door with a sick smile on his face. As he saunters toward you, he rolls the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows. Without looking away from you, his arm drops to his side and he scoops a folding metal chair with one hand, carrying it with him as he edges closer to you.
You flinch as he cracks the chair down in front of you, forcing it open. He chuckles as he takes a seat. His eyes skirt the length of your body and you wish any limb were free to deliver a blow to his smug face.
He reaches into his back pocket and withdraws your badge. He flips it open and holds it up to your face, the way his eyes flit between you and your credentials makes your lip curl.
“An FBI agent,” he says slowly. He slaps your credentials shut against his denim-clad thighs. “Hot damn!” he shouts and whoops. He throws your badge to the wayside and it clatters against the cement floor. “I’m going to take my time with you.”
It could’ve been hours. It could’ve been minutes. The torture is unrelenting and the pain is unending. Your chest heaves as you brace yourself for the next surge of electricity. Ronan, if that’s even his real name, twists the knob on the amplifier and taps the jumper cable clamps in his hands together. He smiles when he hears the buzz of electricity between them. As he presses them into your thighs, you cry out in pain as the shockwaves paralyze your body and mind and the pain overwhelms you.
“YES!” he roars as he pulls them away from you. He’d taken his flannel off, but now he peels off his t-shirt, balls it up, and uses it to wipe the sweat off of his face.
With the voltage no longer coursing through your veins, you slump forward, chest heaving as your scrambled brain fights to stay alert.
He drops the cables and clasps your face in his hand, forcing your chin up to meet his wild eyes. “You just don’t quit, do you? You're special.” He strokes your cheeks with his thumbs as if he cherishes what he’s doing to you. “You are worthy of a god.”
When you come to Ronan is watching you. He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his clasped hands.
“She wakes,” he muses.
You glare at him and his brow pinches. He purses his lips together like he’s been stung, but his eyes are alight with amusement.
“You,” he says, gesturing up and down your body, “look beautiful.”
You don’t need to look down to know the number of bloodied burn wounds spanning the lengths of your legs. If you couldn’t keep track of any other thought, the count was all that kept you grounded. There were ten. Five on each leg. Your wrists and ankles bled from the way you’d pulled against them with every shock he delivered.
He reaches forward and this time you don’t flinch. He hooks two fingers into the gag and pulls it down over your chin, his fingers trailing your lips as he does so.
“Here,” he says, bringing a bottle of water to your lips. “Drink.”
You clamp your lips shut and turn your face away. He laughs and shakes his head. “Come on now, don’t refuse me. That’s not how you show gratitude when a god shows you mercy.”
You muster as much hatred into your stare as you focus your attention back on him. “Mercy?” you hiss, and your voice is hoarse from screaming against the gag. It hurts to speak. You pull against your restraints. “This is what you call mercy?”
“I’m only testing you to see if you’re worthy,” he says by way of explanation. "You've lasted longer than the others."
“Worthy of what?” you ask, but you already know the answer.
“To be my Hera.”
“How is what you’re doing to me, what you did to those other women, going to help you find her?”
“They weren’t worthy,” he answered. “They couldn’t take my power like you could, my lightning. They were false. They needed to be punished.”
He leans in, his lips close enough to yours that you can feel his smoky breath on your skin. “But you, you deserve to be rewarded.” Your skin bristles at his words. His lips find your jawline and you grimace as he drags them up the side of your face. When he pulls away, dried blood flakes onto his skin.
“Don’t be afraid,” he soothes as he smoothes your sweat-drenched hair away from your face. “You’ll enjoy it.”
Unable to suffer any more of his poisonous bullshit, you rear your head back and slam it forward. Pain explodes behind your forehead, but it’s worth it to hear the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking. He roars in pain and clutches his bleeding nose. White light blinds you as he backhands you and curses your name. His ring splits the skin of your cheek open. The force of the blow causes you to bite your lip and you feel your teeth cut into the chapped skin there. You spit blood at him, angering him further.
“You are false!” he screams, spittle flying from his mouth as he shoves the gag back into your mouth. “You are not her!” He moves to pick up the jumper cables, twisting the knob of the amplifier all the way up causing the bulbs overhead to flicker. You know this is it. If he touches you with those, it will kill you.
Bracing yourself for the killing blow, you go to the grave knowing you did not give in to this bastard.
It never lands.
Instead, three shots ring out and he’s falling to the floor dead at your feet. As the unsub’s body falls, Hotchner’s frame comes into view and a choked sob escapes your lips. He holsters his weapon and runs to you. Emily and Morgan are right behind him. Morgan passes Hotch a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and he makes quick work of the zip ties binding you to the chair. From the corner of your eye, you see Emily turn off the amplifier and check Ronan’s pulse.
Unable to hold yourself up, you fall forward into his ready arms, letting yours fall over his shoulders. Hotch drops to his knee to support your weight. “You’re okay,” he says as he pulls the gag free from your mouth and you sob into his chest. He smooths your hair back from your face, his eyes assessing the damage done to you. Blood stains his shirt, your blood.
“Morgan, your jacket.” Hotch orders.
Without hesitation, Morgan unfastens his bulletproof vest and unzips his jacket. He passes it to Hotch who drapes it around your shoulders in an attempt to preserve some of your modesty.
“I need a medic!” he shouts before directing his attention back to you.
Your eyes waver as you try to keep them open. You lock in on the depths of his warm brown eyes. “You’re going to be fine,” he says but his voice sounds far away.
“He wanted someone to be his Hera,” you say weakly.
“Don’t worry about that right now,” Hotch soothes.
You swallow and it hurts your throat to do so. Your lips crack open, “You found me.”
Hotch cradles your head against his chest. “Of course I did.”
You wince as the sound of a gurney crashes into the room, the metal wheels squealing as it draws near. Your head swims as you’re swept into the air and laid out on its cushiony bed. A light shines in your eyes and voices are overlapping. Blindly, you use what strength you have left to drop your hand off the side. Unable to focus your attention on where he is, you know he’ll hear you. “Don’t leave me.”
And as you lose consciousness, you feel his hand slip into yours.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
A steady beeping fills your ears as you slowly come to. Your eyes feel bruised and you don’t think you have it in you to open them, but you feel something around your wrists and bolt upright. Pain crashes over you in a wave. It was a dream. You’re still bound in that basement. The beeping increases, growing louder and faster. Someone says your name and you feel hands on your shoulders. You try to swing your fist and are surprised when your arm follows through and makes contact with flesh. Did you break through the zip ties? You hear your name again, clearer this time. A man. He’s asking you to stop, to relax.
“It’s me,” he repeats and says your name again. “You’re safe. You’re in the hospital.” He says your name again. “It’s me, it’s Aaron.”
You stop fighting and blink hard. Hotchner’s stern face comes into view, except there’s concern wavering in the depths of his brown eyes. His brow softens as you relax. A small smile turns the corners of his lips. “Hey there,” he says. A nurse rushes into the room and he raises a hand, “We’re fine, here. Thank you.”
The nurse looks at you and you nod. She looks unsure about leaving but ultimately relents. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”
Aaron cups the back of your head in one of his hands and gently begins to lower you back down onto the pillows behind you. You allow him to guide you and feel the tension ease from your muscles as your back sinks into the surprisingly plush hospital pillow.
As the adrenaline wears off, you’re finally able to take stock of your injuries as the pain quickly makes itself known. You feel your pulse beating in your skull, pounding at your temples, eyebrow, and cheekbone. With shaky fingers, you touch the places where you remember the unsub striking you. You feel a thick bandage taped over your right eyebrow and steri-strips over your cheek. Your lip is swollen from where you bit it.
Bandages encircle your wrists and there’s an IV stuck in your hand. You’ve been dressed in a hospital gown and the sheets are drawn up to your waist covering the burn wounds. You don't have to see them to know how bad they look. The pain is telling enough.
“Is he dead?” you ask, lowering your hand back down to the bed.
Hotch’s lips form a tight line. “Yes.”
You blink back tears as that information sinks in. “Good,” you whisper in a choked voice. You blink and allow your head to loll to the side. A colorful bouquet of roses and carnations dotted with plastic ladybugs and butterflies sits in a clear vase on the side table.
You smile, “Garcia?”
Hotch smiles in turn. “It was tough to convince her to go home and get some sleep, but I promised her I wouldn’t leave you alone. Even then, it was still a hard-fought battle.”
You chuckle and wince as the movement irritates your injuries.
Hotch telegraphs his next move, and you know it’s to avoid startling you. He cups his hand over your uninjured cheek and strokes the skin there with his thumb.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he says, and his voice sounds tired and pained. “I should’ve gone inside with you.”
“Hotch, don’t.” You reach up and wrap your fingers around his wrist. “Don’t do that to yourself. He didn’t know I was with the FBI until after he took me. If you’d been there, he might’ve pegged us as law enforcement and taken off. He might still be out there and we’d be finding another dead woman in a matter of days. You know I’m right.”
Hotch closes his eyes and heaves a heavy sigh. “I could hear you.”
“What?” you whisper. You try to sit up and wince as the movement stings the wounds in your legs and abdomen. Hotch stands and helps adjust the pillows behind your back before sitting back down in the chair at your bedside.
“Not for very long. He drove out of range, but I heard him speaking to you. I heard the blows land. I heard your head smack against the floor when he threw you in the van.” He stops and shakes his head. “I felt so helpless. I was afraid. I couldn’t get to you, just like,” his voice catches in his throat. “just like I couldn’t get to Haley.”
Your heart breaks for him as he speaks. You reach for his hand and take it, squeezing it. “Aaron, you did get to me. You saved my life.”
He clears his throat and swallows. “Yes, but we were almost too late.”
“But you weren’t,” you state, your tone firm. “Aaron, look at me.”
He hesitates and inhales deeply before lifting his gaze to yours. The corners of his eyes soften as he meets yours and you smile. You gently tug his hand, “Come here.”
Hotch glances toward the door and then back at you, “The doctor—“
“Isn’t going to do shit,” you finish. “I’m the one that endured hours of torture. Pretty sure I’m allowed some close comfort.”
He lets out a shallow laugh. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Standing, he shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair. With one hand he loosens his tie until he’s able to pull it up and over his head. He tosses it onto the chair and circumnavigates the bed, assessing the best way to join you on the small mattress.
You groan as you slide over. Hotch reaches out to stop you but you silence him with a pointed look. “Mind the IV,” you say as you pat the space beside you.
Hotch acquiesces, using the tips of his fingers to raise the IV drip enough for him to slide into bed beside you. He slips an arm around you and drops the feed. It falls across his torso. The feel of his arm around you is comforting, like a security blanket, like safety. You relax into him, and rest your head on his chest. His lips brush against your bandaged brow.
“Not quite how I imagined we’d first be sharing a bed,” you joke softly as you nuzzle in deeper against the wide plane of his chest.
You feel him smile against your hair. “Only you could joke at a time like this.”
“If I can’t laugh at what’s happened, I’ll never be able to close my eyes at night.”
“Well, if that’s the case.” He rubs the bare skin of your arm in small circles. “I’ll be there until you can.”
You turn your head to look at him then, your heart full. This is happening. His eyes are on yours and you push yourself toward him ever so slightly. He closes the small gap between you and presses his lips to yours. It wasn’t hungry and primal like the kiss in the car. There would be plenty of time for that later. This kiss was light, tender…healing.
“Sir, I’m sorry. I tried to go home, I really did but as soon as I got there I—” Garcia’s voice abruptly cuts off. You look up and her initial look of surprise turns to one of abject joy.
You feel your cheeks flush as Emily and Morgan appear in the doorway behind her. Morgan’s eyes widen and Emily’s brow arches as a smile curves her lips.
“I, uh, brought backup.” Penelope giggles. She remembers she’s holding something. “And cookies! I couldn’t sleep, so I baked. I figured I could bribe you into going home and getting some sleep.” Her words leave her mouth at a mile a minute. “I thought you’d fight me on it, so I brought some muscle.” She gestures with a tilt of her head. “They’re the muscle.”
Morgan exhales and points a finger at you and Hotch. “Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?”
Emily elbows him and he drops his arm. She takes the tray from Garcia and walks it over to the side table where she places it next to the flowers. She winks at you as she turns back to Garcia and Morgan. “It’s about time,” she says.
Penelope laughs as she hooks her arm in Emily’s. “What's it been? Two, three months?”
Morgan guffaws. “Months?”
Penelope pats his face with a ring-adorned hand. “My sweet oblivious profiler. Come on, hot stuff.” She takes him by the hand and leads him from the room. Emily shakes her head and laughs. “Men.”
“Safe to say the team knows.”
Hotch releases a breathy laugh and kisses your forehead again. “I know what will be the first thing on the agenda at tomorrow’s debriefing.”
6 weeks. It had been 6 weeks since you’d pressed the elevator button that would bring you back to the office. The weight of your gun feels right where it sits upon your hip, your gait more familiar to you now than when it wasn’t holstered to your side. You nervously adjust the grip on your go bag. You’d packed and repacked it the night before.
This morning as you were getting out of the shower, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your cheek had healed nicely though the skin on your brow that had been split by the unsub’s ring had scarred, severing the tail end of your eyebrow from the rest of it. The ligature marks around your wrists and ankles had healed and the skin was smooth once more. The stun gun had scarred your abdomen, but all that remained were two purple pinpricks of scar tissue no bigger than the size of an infant’s thumbnail.
Your legs are a different story. The front of your thighs are an array of mottled scar tissue. One burn had gone so deep that they’d needed to graft skin from your calf to salvage it. The wounds no longer hurt physically, but you’d woken up from nightmares on more than one occasion.
You were never alone though. Garcia worked remotely on secure laptops with VPNs as often as she was able. Rossi brought you home-cooked Italian at least twice a week and talked with you over numerous glasses of red wine. Reid brought black-and-white foreign existentialist films that you didn’t understand, but his enthusiasm as he watched made you happy all the same. Emily and Morgan brought coffee and donuts as often as they could and Hotch…if he wasn’t at the office or visiting Jack, he was with you. On several occasions, he brought Jack. Jack would sit on the bed beside you, playing with his toys, narrating the adventures of his action figures as Aaron stood in the doorway, smiling. At night, when you had woken in a cold sweat, Aaron was there with a washcloth to wipe it away. When the bandages had stuck to your burn wounds and it felt like your skin was being peeled apart, he got your pain medicine and helped change the dressings, holding you until the pain had passed.
You blink as the elevator dings, signaling you’ve reached your destination. You take a deep breath and smooth down the front of your blouse as the door opens wide. Everything looks the same, yet everything feels like it's changed as you approach the desk you occupy perpendicular to Emily’s. A smile crosses your lips as you see the Welcome Bac k card on your desk. Two vases of flowers sit behind the card. One is almost exactly like the one from the hospital so you know it’s from Garcia. The other, a bouquet of purple tulips, has a note attached to it. You open the note and read it.
Glad to have you back. Things haven’t been the same around here without you. -AH
Hotch. You should’ve known. You smile and tuck the note into your purse.
“Hey, hey, look who’s finally decided to get her ass back to work.” Morgan’s charming laugh is followed by Emily chastising him.
“Ignore him,” she says as she places a steaming mug of coffee on your desk.
“You’re a godsend,” you say by way of thanks and take a long drink. Two sugars, no milk, just the way you like. “Wow, Emily, that’s perfect. I needed this.”
“How come you don’t remember how I take my coffee?” Morgan asks pointedly.
She shrugs, “Chicks before dicks, Derek.”
You sputter and choke on your coffee.
“Look,” he says as he pats you on the back. “Her first day back and you’re gonna kill her.”
At that moment JJ passes by with a file in hand. She raises it in the air and gestures to the conference room. “We got a case.” She smiles at you warmly. “It’s good to have you back.”
Together, you, Morgan, and Emily enter the conference room where Reid, Hotch, and Rossi have already gathered. Once you’re all sat, JJ begins presenting the case. You review current victims and why the Sacramento Police Department has invited you onto the case
“Sacramento PD is expecting us this afternoon. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. Wheels up in thirty, understood?”
A chorus of ‘yes sirs’ echo throughout the room. As the team gathers their belongings and moves to leave, you wait for Hotch to catch your eye. You wink at him before mouthing, “Yes, sir.”
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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months
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Charlos request !!! Basically anything to do with Carlos not renewing with Ferrari
Maybe when the news came out or few moments of it coming up. I imagine Carlos being down about it before but then just being a little shit like the video with Charles where he’ll bring it up and make reader and Charles sad while just giggling himself
A/N: Okay I know you wanted fluff and you're going to get it, but first angst because Charles knowing this was happening before Carlos, *chef's kisses*
The plate slips out of your hands, when the sound of the door slamming vibrates everything in the household. Immediately, Charles is rushing out of his Sims room and looking at you with wide eyes. "Baby, what happened," You go to open your mouth but thundering feet pulls both your attention away from the glass around you.
"Is it true?" Carlos voice travels, you couldn't see him, but from the way that Charles's eyes grew you could only imagine what Carlos looked like now. Coming into view you want to step back, the anger was palpable, thick, and even made your throat tighten. You step back, but wince feeling the small shard of glass digging into the sole of your foot.
"Carlos,-" "Is it, fucking true?" Carlos gets right into Charles's face who doesn't back down, but you see the way his eyes are swimming with regret and heartbreak. "SPEAK! Goddammit you're Ferrari's golden boy, the chosen one, the Il Predestinato." Carlos roars, and your frozen.
You've seen the boys angry, but this was beyond anger, this was the form of wrath you've never seen. "Let's not do this now, Y/n dropped a plate and has glas-" "I don't give a fuck, answer me, goddamit, if you love me, even just a little bit, you'd tell me right now," Carlos's voice breaks off, his chest shaking, and throat bobbing like he's fighting to breath. "Carlos," Charles reaches out, Carlos stumbling back like he's been shot and closes his eyes.
Fists tighten, Charles braces himself, he honestly deserves it. "You knew and didn't tell me. You knew, and here I thought winning Singapore, the only non-Red Bull driver to win, would be enough. Why wasn't it enough?" Carlos chokes out, eyes shining with tears. "Why wasn't I good enough?" Charles doesn't answer, he doesn't know what to say.
"What's happening?" You ask, the boys eyes turn to you seeing your shocked and slightly scared expression. "Lewis is taking my seat next year, Charles knew. Since Canada." Your mouth slowly falls open as you stare at Charles with utter heartbreak. "Charles, what?" He drops his head in shame and looks away.
"I wanted to say something, but I couldn't." "Bullshit, you told Pierre." Charles physically flinches, giving away that he did in fact tell his best friend but not his partner. "You should've told me, and now I might not have a seat. The team now has to put out some bullshit excuse like I knew or something. You know what, 'm packing a packing a bag." Carlos scuffs and you move forward not caring about the glass.
Carlos is halfway up the stairs as you step and trip over yourself. "Carlos, no, ow, please don't." You cry. "Y/n," Charles moves and wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up and on a counter. "How could you Charles, does Ferrari really mean that much to you that you hide this from Carlos, from us?" Charles says nothing as Carlos jogs down the stairs.
"I'll be at Lando's for a while," You try to move but Charles stops you as the door slams closed.
------------------------------
Carlos and Charles were strained at best, you tried to get Carlos to come home, but he needed time to think things through and if Charles even really cared about Carlos. Sitting in the van on the way to the Bahrain track, you watch as the camera is turned on and they start filming the teammates.
You noticed Carlos was holding a little chili, with not a clue where he got it from he notices the camera blinking and chuckles. "Hey, I got something for you," Charles sighs and looks straight into the camera, "Tell me Carlos," Carlos chuckles and hands out the chili pepper. "I want to give this to you," Charles still looks dead into the camera, a tired expression on his face from the lack of sleep.
"From my fan, to me, for you." Carlos gets this slight smirk, and you watch the two hoping this was a symbolics an olive branch. "So you remember me for the rest of your life." Charles smiles gently and holds the chili pepper to his face. His eyes cut to you a small smile on his face. "A chiliiiiii." "For our post-teammate era." You hear Carlos start to laugh as Charles spins the chili around.
It took him a second to register what Carlos says and turns hurt in his eyes and looks ready to cry and even you move uncomfortably in your chair. "Come on, we're only starting the season." The two of them laugh but you can tell the hurt in both their laughs, "Getting emotional already?" Carlos teases, and you sigh knowing Carlos was teasing him.
What you hated was you couldn't tell if it was for the camera or because he was slowly forgiving Charles.
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