#Law school finals are the actual worst

[discountwives]

sometimes i think ab joy and spencer going to school together, helping each other babysit their siblings and ugh. my brain.

[reiderwriter]

Isn't She Pretty, Daddy?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Teacher f!Reader

Summary: You're a little bit worried about one of your brightest students recently, so you call her Dad to come in for a meeting. Her absolutely adorable - and single - Dad.

Warnings: the birds and the bees as explained by a kindergardener. Some angst about being a single parent.

A/N: Here's another entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Challenge! Dad Spencer has my heart, and I've been in a really fluff forward mood this weekend, evidently! I think I have one more Kid Fic left to go before the end of the challenge, but we'll see what the will of the fanfiction gods is...

Masterlist

If you were to be asked what the hardest part of being a teacher was, you would, without question or even a second to think, have an answer. Parents. The worst part of teaching is talking to parents. 

Little kids were easy to talk to. They asked questions if they didn't understand things clearly, and they didn't typically say things they didn't mean. Adults were the opposite, and it just so happened that all of your kids' parents were adults. 

Including your most recent problem  child. 

You were used to the kids in your class having some behavior issues - for one, they were kids, it was to be expected that their little bodies couldn't quite handle all of the emotions they were feeling at once. But you were doubly struck by your school area being close to Quantico, meaning half the kids in your care had families with law enforcement backgrounds. 

Absent parents plus growing bodies plus normal kid stress equalled attachment issues, and your problem child Harper Reid was one of your more worrying cases. 

You really hoped everything was okay in the Reid household, so you'd called the little girls parents. She was lovely - honest to god - one of the sweetest little kids you'd ever met. 

Every day she came to school with some older kids and their mom, carpooling on the way in, so you had yet to meet her parents, but you thought that anyone who could produce something that sweet and cute and brilliant couldn't possibly be a bad person. 

You didn't know what to expect, so when her little pigtails peaked around the corner and she came running in, you were momentarily filled with anxiety. 

“MOMMY!” The little girl yelled, launching herself into your arms as soon as she spotted you behind your desk. 

“Hi, Harper! Hi, you must be, Mr. Reid-”

“Doctor, actually, um, but that doesn't really matter. I'm so sorry about this, Harper doesn't usually tackle people.” 

The 3ft tall ball of energy had managed to crawl into your lap and wrap her arms around your neck, so you had to pick her up when you stood to greet her dad. 

“Will your wife be joining us for the meeting today?” You asked, already used to Harper's hugs and general closeness. 

“Oh, no. No, she's not coming. She, uh, doesn't exist. Single father.” 

“Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume, it's just not on my files-” 

“It's okay, it's a …bit complicated.” 

You took your seat at the desk and gestured to the man to do the same. Finally, looking at him for the first time now that some of your anxiety had died down, you couldn't help but think that Doctor Reid was incredibly attractive. It wasn't one part of his face that stuck out to you as being particularly pretty, just the entire ensemble of it together that took your breath away. Either that of Harper was gripping you so tight she was restricting your ability to breathe, and considering a five year old is not a boa constrictor, this was all dad's fault. 

“So, you said on the phone Harper's been having some problems at school?” 

You snapped your attention back to the issue at hand, searching for the relevant files and pictures you wanted to show the man. Harper turned herself around in your lap and looped her arms around your arm, pulling it in close to use as a pillow. 

“Isn't Miss Y/N so pretty, Daddy?” You froze and flushed in an instant, suddenly so aware of the man's eyes on you. You weren't sure if you were thankful or even more embarrassed that Harper's dad seemed to be even more flushed than you. 

“Daddy? Isn't she pretty?” Harper insisted, and you realized that you both weren't going to get out of this without him answering. 

“Yes, angel. Miss Y/N is very pretty.” The little girl smiled in triumph and nuzzled into your arm even more, happily curled up into your lap like a cat. 

“Hey, Harper. We got a new puzzle delivered yesterday. It's got My Melody and Cinnamaroll on it. They're your favorites, right?” 

The little girl nodded in glee, eyes shining as she hung on your every word. 

“How about you go over to the play area and get it started, and then me and your daddy will come over and help you finish it?” 

In a flash, she'd hopped up out of your lap and wriggled away, shouting a quick “You promised, right?” behind her as she went. 

“I'm so sorry about that, I don't know what's gotten into her, she's usually very shy and-”

“Doctor Reid, it's fine. That's just why I called you in today. Teachers and parents are a team, right, we work together to make sure the kids grow up well, you don't need to apologize to me for that.” 

The man seemed to take a deep breath and nod, to regain his wits about him for a second. 

“Is she… this attached in her regular classes?” 

“Well honestly, she was a bit like that at the beginning of the semester, but she grew out of it after a while. In the last week or so, she fell back into it, and now she's calling me ‘Mommy,’ too. I was wondering if anything happened recently at home that could've led her in this direction, or…”

The man looked a little bashful, but there was a twinge of sadness in his expression that you recognised all too well. 

“Harper, uh, doesn't have a Mom. I adopted her, and it's a long story, but... She's been asking me to get her one recently, because she doesn't really understand all that well? I'm sorry, I didn't know she'd do something like this. I should've done a better job at home-” 

“Doctor Reid, raising a child is hard. It's so hard that humans usually do it in communities, or at least in couples. You're doing it alone, and Harper is already one of the smartest and most empathetic little girls I know. You're doing your job as Dad just fine.” 

The man smiled at you and looked down, quickly wiping away a tear as you gave him a moment of privacy. 

“So. If nothing at home set Harper off, we should probably go and ask her why she's calling me mommy, right?” 

You stood, and he stood with you, leaving his satchel next to his chair and unbuttoning his jacket. 

“Great. Sure, let's go see.”

Walking to the back of the room, you both smiled quietly, looking at the small girl. The 100 piece puzzle you'd guided her to was neatly arranged on the desk, pieces split into edges and centre pieces as she slowly looked at each one with a quietly focused face. Each time she found the piece she was looking for, her smile was bright as she connected it to the small part she was working on. 

“Mommy! Daddy! I can't find the melody's face, can you help me?” 

“Sure, Harper, we'll help you.” You moved to sit beside her at the tiny desks, giggling when the older Reid on Harper's other side struggled to fit himself in the toddler sized chairs. 

Harper assigned you roles, and you all started quietly doing your jobs, waiting for Harper to focus again so you could ask her questions without agitating her. 

“Harper, can you tell your Daddy why you call me Mommy?” 

“Sure! You're Mommy because I want you to marry with Daddy.” 

If you weren't already still flushed from her earlier comments, you certainly were lightheaded with embarrassment now. 

“Harper, that's not how it works-” 

“Yes, it is, Daddy! Henry said so. He said his mommy and daddy were sad one day, but then they were together again and they had a big party called a wedding and now they're happy, and that's why we have Michael.” You didn't quite follow from all the names and the story events, but it was evident that Reid did, so you waited quietly for his explanation. 

“My friend. Her son was at her wedding a few years back. They have another son who is a couple years older than Harper, they come to school together?” 

Your mouth made a small ‘o’ as you slowly filled in the blanks. 

“Harper, you want daddy to have a wedding so he isn't sad anymore?” 

The little girl gave a big nod and a smile, like she was so happy that she was finally being understood. 

“Miss Y/N should marry daddy because he thinks she's pretty. Henry said that was important for a wedding, your mommy has to look beautiful.” You made eye contact with Doctor Reid awkwardly as she spoke, both of you looking away for fear of seeing the embarrassment on each others faces. 

“And Miss Y/N wants a baby. So I will be Miss Y/N's baby, so everyone can be happy!” Harper's kid logic was a little hard to find fault with, but you still had to push back a little. 

“Harper, why do you think I want a baby?” 

“Angie asked you, and you said," the girl pouted, almost frustrated woth habing to answer all these silly questions.

"She asked you why you don't have a baby, and you said that you can only have a baby if you're married and that you wanted to have a baby when you were married. So marry my dad, and I'll be your baby!” 

Harper's smile was so happy and content that you really didn't want to spoil her dream just yet. You continued putting the puzzle together for a few minutes in silence, the full picture nearly being complete now. Harper seemed to fidget a little in her seat next to you, pushing closer and closer to you before tugging on your sleeve. 

You leaned down and she whispered in your ear - though you didn't doubt that her dad heard every word. 

“If you really want, I'm sure we can get another baby like Henry got Michael. I'll ask my dad, but I think it's allowed.” 

The poor man on the other side of the desk had to cover his face with his hands to stop the blush from showing, devolving to just straight up resting his head on the desk when his daughter kept going. 

“A boy is okay, but my dad doesn't really know about boy stuff. Uncle Derek says that my daddy is just a pretty boy with a book brain. We should get another girl, so daddy can be not worry.” 

The more you listened to Harper's adorable family plan, the more you just wanted to squeeze her tight and say yes and give her everything she wanted. 

“Miss Y/N, once again, I'm so sorry for everything, I'll talk with Harper at home about this.” 

“It's okay, I actually find it all very sweet,” you laughed a little and smiled back at him. 

“No, I'm sure your boyfriend would be so uncomfortable if he knew that she was trying to marry you off-” 

“Doctor Reid, are you trying to ask me if I'm single?” 

The small grin that quirked his lips up was nothing if not unfair. He really was a very pretty boy. 

“It was that obvious?” 

“Yep.” You made sure the ‘p’ popped a lot as you both shared a small laugh. Harper looked up between you and smiled, too. 

“So, can you get married now? Henry said you can do it really quickly, like in Grandpa Rossi's garden, and then you can go and do the secret part at home while Auntie Penny looks after me.” 

“Secret part?” 

“To make the other baby, silly!” 

[ch10srac00n]

Captain’s little secret..~

Space riders AU: @onyxonline — Frowning Critters: @eggritos

“Hey boss, don’t you think that you order too much alcohol?” Groddy asked, seeing how much his captain was drinking, maybe for once he was going to loose this time.

“I don’t care! I haven’t drink beer in a while and I need it!” The blue dog signed, it happened a time since she drink and her crew happens to just finished a long and tiring mission and reunions. This was maybe the longest they have passed without drinking or just enjoying life. Being a rider is too much job and can’t allow the chance to get drunk.

Both Dogpressed and Groddy were exited to finally go to a bar, they liked to drink and make competitions about which can handle the most strong alcohol and in bigger quantities before getting drunk, they needed to say a full coherent sentence with out making any mistake. No one actually expected that the “mysterious but shy captain” liked to drink and surprisingly have a strong resistance. Maybe the HQ would mind if they saw her drinking like crazy but that didn’t weeks before a mission or reunion, even though she never goes.

“Pff- you don’t care that other rider sees you like this, raindrop?”

“No one knows me! I don’t fear!”

Both Catfeine and Groddy laughed, this was stupid but it was their captain’s secret and they enjoyed it, even if it was against the HQ’s laws.

Yes! Finally some content and some cursed one but with info.

Cloudy likes to drink but makes it occasionally, she knows that this may be against the rules but time to time is good to break those rules and more after a long mission. Things only get worst because of Groddy’s competitive nature who also likes to drink. Things can go quite crazy when you give both Groddy and Cloudy some alcohol.

I made this late night and during school so is not the best but content is content and I hope you enjoy it!

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Lamb (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Modern Daemon has bad blowjob etiquette. You think you can teach him a lesson.

Warnings: Smut. Rimming. That’s it. That's the fic. Nah, kidding. Cursing, trapped in an elevator, male masturbation. Casual workplace sexism.

A/N: The last two Sundays I decided to be sweet. But since my finals started, we go back to my scheduled period of being unhinged. And then I started my actual period and hated this so much. So if it sucks, sorry.

He is staring at you. Again.

You never understood the point of glass walls. If you owned the building, you would have them all replaced by real, actual walls. Or at least, you would put blinds on. But you don’t own the building.

The man that does is sitting in the office right across from yours, staring towards you. Daemon Targaryen. Board member of Targaryen’s Industries. Your father and he had been at each other’s throats since you had been a little girl. Otto Hightower and Daemon Targaryen hated each other, it was a fact of life. Him choosing the office right across from yours had been taken as nothing more than a taunt to your father.

But you knew better. Daemon was set on driving you to insanity. You scowled, and he smirked at you, closing his laptop and sliding those damn glasses off his face to look at you unashamedly. He looked starving. Like he wanted to eat you whole.

You didn’t actually know what his position was. It was hard to keep track. He had been appointed by the CEO, your godfather Viserys, to more departments than you could count. First, he had been head of marketing, but your father complained he was using too expensive models that were not on the budget. Then, he had overseen PR, which had been an absolute disaster. After that, he had been placed as the CFTO, only to be demoted a few weeks later. Then he had been… Well, you get the idea.

Daemon waves his hand, shaking you out of your contemplation. You quickly close your mouth, noticing you had your lips slightly parted, as if to speak a word that would never come out. He snickers, no doubt amused at what he perceives as a weakness.

He has done this for a month. You have to give it to him, he is a patient man. Daemon sits there every morning and just looks at you. Takes you in, as you flutter around your office, sometimes on the phone, sometimes typing away on your computer. He never gets bored, or tired of it. How could he, when he is a predator waiting to pounce?

You see, Daemon has been waiting weeks for a moment of weakness. Taunting you, looking at you, making you uncomfortable. And it’s fitting, really. That today of all days is the day you break. There is a storm raging outside, the worst winter Westeros has seen in years. Climate change it’s at fault, or so they say. You only know that you despise Daemon, and you despise thunderstorms.

His eyes. Purple and mischievous, meeting yours at every turn. You despise those. His little sideways smirk. That, too, you hate. You hate his entitled, nepo baby attitude, and you are sick of the taunts about your nephews and sister. His handsome face, and how good he looks in glasses. Annoying. You wish someone would put him in his place.

No one had actually expected you to enter corporate life. You see, as the daughter of an old money family, your father was sure you would do just as Alicent did and become the housewife of a rich man. The thing he didn’t take in consideration was that you had inherited none of your mother’s and Alicent’s grace and soft tempers, and all his cunningness.

You had gone to a good school, and had quickly risen through corporate ranks. You had a strong work ethic, but your last name had helped, too. Being the daughter of Otto Hightower had his perks, especially in university, considering you had been able to not worry about paying student debt and only focus on getting good grades. It also helped that you had a sure work once you had graduated, since Viserys Targaryen was not only your brother-in-law, but you were his goddaughter too. That last fact had made for interesting conversations after he married your older sister.

Still, you dedicated yourself to your work, trying to prove you deserved to be there as much as anyone else. It was a male dominated field, and working in the company where your father was CCO, and your sister married to the owner meant many expected you to be either looking for your own rich husband or to be a lazy nepo baby. Just like Daemon was.

The sound of thunder cast you out of your thoughts. You gave a quick glance at the window, noticing that once more, it was pouring. Not a good omen for your meeting. Thunderstorms always made you slightly uneasy.

Too wired to keep working, you shut down your laptop and slid it inside your purse. You had to be at the meeting room in fifteen minutes, which, in reality, meant you had to leave now. As soon as you stepped outside, however, it seemed destiny had other plans.

“Oi, sweetheart!” Daemon called, and you fantasized of strangling him with one of his expensive ties. You knew, without needing him to speak more, that he was about to taunt you. Still, he owned half the company, you couldn’t risk ignoring him. You turned, heels clicking in the hallway. “Bring me a soy latte, no sugar.”

“Mr. Targaryen, I’m sorry, I’m not your secretary. And I’m going to a meeting.” You answered, very politely, and started walking again, this time towards the elevator. Daemon followed, eyeing your ass with delight. You truly worked those dress pants.

“Come on, Hightower. We both know you are not really busy.” He arrived at the elevator first, to your disgrace, and pressed the button. Daemon leaned his arm on the wall, effectively caging you in. You glared at him, trying not to get distracted by how good he smelled. It’s not that you were attracted to him, surely. He just used an expensive cologne, and those always smelt good. Even your nephew Aegon, who was the sleaziest twenty-something you had ever met, could make them work.

“I am, though.” You ducked under his arm and pressed the button insistently, trying to get the elevator to arrive faster. Nothing happened.

“Doing what? Getting the rest of the board coffee?” Daemon snickered at his joke. You turned to look at him, giving him a disdainful once over that turned… Not so disdainful, when you realized he looked good enough to eat in that suit. Whatever, it’s not like it meant anything. All men did. Still, your cheeks heated up, and your next words came out in a mutter.

“Doing my job, Mister Targaryen. Which does not involve serving coffee.”

“Bah, you are a CDO. A made up position if I saw one.”

“I plan the whole company's social media strategy, and oversee our different digital platforms for purchase and devolution.” You glare even more, but quickly avert your eyes when you realize he is looking at you like he wants to eat you. Again. Gods, does he ever tire? “Hardly a made up position.”

“So you direct a bunch of nerds and interns. Big deal. You can still get me coffee, or send your minions to get me one.” Daemon stepped closer, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. You batted his hands away, shivering. From the cold, obviously. There was a storm raging outside, it had been one of the harshest winters in a while. It didn’t matter that you were wearing thermal clothes underneath your suit, which was wool. You were not affected by Daemon’s touch. At all.

“Here’s a novel idea.” You were just too angry to avoid insulting him. It was not often you resorted to those petty tactics. You left them to your nephews, Aemond and Aegon. “Why don’t you go bring me coffee? I don’t even know what you are doing in our department, you don’t even have Instagram, old man.”

Daemon laughed.

“Who are you calling old man, little girl? I will have you know, I know all about social media.”

“Oh, really?”

Daemon ignored you, typing something on his phone. You weren’t too bothered by it because the elevator finally got there, and you were able to step inside. Your phone pinged, as you did, so your hand went to the pocket of your blazer to check it. Distracted, you didn’t notice Daemon getting into the elevator with you.

Your phone pinged again. You took it out, checking the notification without unlocking it.

@caraxesrider has started following you

@caraxesrider: U were saying?

At that, you looked up and glared at him, startling a little at finding him inside the elevator.

“You know I will have to report this, right?” You quickly started scrolling through his Instagram, which seemed very… Normal. He followed his official one, and the accounts of his family members and plenty of models and fitness girls. In little clothing. What a pig. “You are not allowed to have an Instagram, apart from the official one that is in the hands of the community manager.”

“Says who?”

“Viserys.”

“Real mature, that you call him by his first name now. Tell me, do you think watching your father’s business partner marry your older sister, who is young enough to be her daughter, traumatized you?”

You ignored his taunt, frowning.

“I will report you to the PR department, they were clear you are not allowed to…”

“Not allowed.” He imitated your voice, mockingly. “Not allowed. Will you tell your daddy, little girl?”

“I’m serious.”

“Whatever. Report me. I don’t care, you are such a kiss ass.” Daemon rolled his eyes. It stung a little. You hated being called that. It was not your fault, truly. You liked following the rules. They were there for a reason. And Daemon’s antics usually made the company stock drop because his last name was attached to it. When Daemon got drunk and insulted a server or was spotted at a strip club, it was not him who suffered, but the company as a whole. He was a PR nightmare. His Instagram, no matter how private, would eventually leak and become another.

But whatever you were going to say, be it either a witty retort, or more talk about what you were going to do, died in your throat when the elevator jerked to an abrupt halt.

“What… What..?” You braced against the wall, the phone falling to the floor in your haste to hold on to something.

“Well, at least we still got power…” Daemon pointed towards one of the security cameras. “They will see us and then…” He didn’t get to finish his sentence because the lights turned off, leaving you both completely in the dark.

“You jinxed it!” You accused, voice shaking. You were not claustrophobic, nor were you afraid of the dark. What did scare you, however, was that you were trapped in an elevator in a building with no power, which as far as you knew, meant you could plummet to your dead anytime.

“Fuck. Never mind. Are you alright? You sound as if you are about to cry, and I can’t deal with crying people.” Daemon complained, switching on his phone, so he could light up the space. He truly looked concerned. He dropped to his knees to search for your phone and handed it to you.

“I’m fine. Just… Do you think we are safe?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Daemon banged on the wall of the elevator, making you let out a tiny yelp at how it shook.

“Don’t do that!”

“When elevators get less power, they jerk to a stop. It’s safe. It was probably the storm.” Daemon is leaning against the wall and starting to scroll through his phone. Like he is bored. And not, you know, terrified out of his mind because he is hanging from a rope in a metal cubicle caught between floors. The thought makes even more panic bubble up in your throat, so you try to think of something else.

“How do you know that?” You narrow your eyes at him, noticing how the light from his phone lighted up his sharp features, giving them an eerie blue glow.

“I read the OSH mail, every once in a while. That was in the winter’s newsletter.” He drawled, in a bored tone. “Come here.”

“Why?”

“Because you look frightened. Come here. I can make you feel better.” And he almost sounds convincing. Were the light on, you would be able to see that he is nearly salivating at the mouth, like the wolf about to pounce on a little lamb.

He has been working on you for a month. Little pretty Hightower, so tightly wound, always doing the right thing. So close to snapping. It’s like you were a present, placed on his lap by Otto himself when he sent him to this godforsaken department.

You gave him a dubious look, but stepped closer.

“Good girl.” Daemon brushed your hair back, gently. You were so close to breaking, he could taste it. “You will be just fine, just match your breathing to mine.

“I’m not having a panic attack, you fool.” You complained, trying to hide the hint of a smile on your lips. What was it about him that was so intoxicating? He had boosted your mood immediately. Oh, you hated feeding his ego.

"Rude.” Daemon muttered. He pulled you into a hug, pressing your bodies close. Chest to chest, hips to hips. Your curves against him, so damn soft, so ready for the taking. “There, there. It will all be fine.”

“I pity your kids.” Still, you melted into the hug regardless. Daemon took the chance to nuzzle your hair, hands trailing dangerously lower on your back.

“You are so rude and cunty. I can see the family resemblance.”

“Shut up, you inbred degenerate.” You mumbled against his throat, still hugging him. “You were chasing after your niece’s skirts not so long ago. And Viserys first wife was your cousin. Your family resemblance is worse.”

“I have not denied it.”

And of course, doing something very foolish, you tilted your head up and kissed him. Blame it on the sexual frustration, or the way he had shown you he had a decent side to him, but you never found him more tempting. Your kiss was heated, all teeth and frustration. If he responded, it would undoubtedly turn things less family friendly.

Daemon, never one to lose the opportunity to have sex, responded in earnest. How could he not, when he had been waiting for a chance to pounce for a month? His lips parted, turning the kiss into something much more dirty. His hands went to your hips, rolling them against his. You moaned.

When you parted, he had his trademark smirk on, full force. The one that said, Daemon Targaryen is a winner. The asshole was getting off on the thought of corrupting a Hightower.

You pressed a few careful kisses down his throat, making sure to not smear your lipstick in places that are noticeable. Daemon smells so good, it makes your knees weak. Fucking expensive cologne.

The arousal doesn't let you think straight, and he loves it. You are desperate for him already, Daemon can tell by the way you clutch and grope at him. And in truth, you are turning into a wanton little thing. Wet from just a few stolen kisses, it’s hard to think of all the reasons why this is wrong.

You want to suck his cock, badly. It’s not often, you are in the right headspace to give head. It gets guys too arrogant. And Daemon is already arrogant enough. The temptation seems too great, until he tries pushing your head down. Talk about a mood killer. It feels as if a bucket of cold water has been dumped on top of you, dulling your arousal and making you realize, in fact, you had been about to suck your nemesis off.

Daemon. You had been about to suck Daemon's cock. The guy who orders you to bring him coffee, as if you were some intern and not the head of your section. The guy who despises your family. The guy who calls you and your father kiss asses and Alicent a cunt. Twenty years older, brother to your godfather, man whore, Daemon.

Oh my god, are you turning into Alicent? Fucking men old enough to be your father? Being into Targaryens? Ew. No way. Viserys is nowhere near as appealing as Daemon. But still. What's next, leaving your career to pop out entitled brats?

You stop. Daemon pushes your head down again. It ignites a rage long settled on you.

“Are you seriously pushing my head down?” It comes out like an indignant little yelp. Turns out, the little lamb was not so willing to surrender, Daemon thinks. He has two choices. He can force you down, make you break. Or he can wait it out, lull you into a false sense of comfort, and slowly get you more and more pliant. Yet, he wants to see what you are about to do.

“Is it working?” He sasses, and you turn your head up to glare, even if he can’t see it in the dark elevator. Then, a thought sparkles in your mind. Kiss ass. And here you have someone who needs to be taught a lesson.

A thud. Your knees hitting the floor of the elevator, between Daemon's legs.

“Fuck. Are you really…?” He groans, and you hear another thud. Must be his head against the wall. Good. Perhaps this way, his two brain cells will actually connect.

You unbuckle his belt and open his trousers, the sound loud in the stillness of the elevator. It's done the fast and quick way, not really knowing how much time you have left before someone comes looking for you. You kiss his hipbones, then his thighs. Daemon tangles a hand in your hair, leading you to his cock. You go along with it, but do not touch him where he wants you to.

Instead, you go lower. And a bit further back.

“What are you…?” He asks, confused. Praying to god he showered that morning, you spread him open and lick a stripe over his asshole. His body seizes up, a moan leaving his mouth. “Oh, little girl… You are filthy.”

Daemon is clean, if a bit hairy. The carpet matches the drapes, you will be able to say now. This will be a little secret, between the two of you. When he mocks you in the boardroom, or asks you to get him coffee, you will be able to think of this moment. Not only have you seen him bare, but you intend to take him apart.

For all his posturing, he is only a man. It shows in the way he arches, hips bucking, desperate to find friction. Cock swollen and balls heavy, tip messy with precum. You lick at him, making sure to make the most obscene slurping noises you can, as if his ass was a fine meal. Daemon moans, hand desperately going to grab at the wall to keep himself upright, and you snicker.

“Tell me again how much of a kiss ass I am.” You taunt, curling one of your hands around his gorgeous cock. He is thick and warm in your grip, you can feel him throb in your hand. Your panties feel embarrassingly wet at the pure filth of the act you are performing, but also at the fact Daemon is losing control so steadily.

“You… Oh. Seven Hells. Fuck.” And it's not his fault, really. You have been steadily opening him up with your tongue, nearly french kissing his hole, only to spear your tongue right when he tries to form a coherent sentence. One of your hands keeps him spread for you, and the other is braced on his hip, to avoid him rutting and bucking. Daemon is so pent-up that if you weren't holding him, he would be humping the wall.

His hand tugs at your hair, harshly. You stop.

“What…?” He looks down at you, at the way your face disappears between his thighs, utterly confused. Then, he gives you a menacing growl, as if he were the one in control. “Don't tease, little girl.”

Daemon wears dominance well. It comes with being a Targaryen, you have realized. The entitlement oozes out of his pores. When he gives an order, he is used to at least five people jumping out of their seats to obey him. That gives any man an unstoppable confidence.

But it's not what you want. This is about rewarding politeness, not him acting like an entitled fool. You press down on the sensitive skin behind his balls, right on his perineum. You want him to beg. Not only will it teach him a lesson, but perhaps, get you railed after.

“Beg.” You order, pinching at his thigh.

“You are out of your mind if you think…” Daemon starts, but he quickly shuts up when you place a hand on his cock again. You are not what he was expecting, not what he was expecting at all. He underestimated you. Yet, he cannot say he doesn’t like what he is learning about you.

“Beg.” You insist, teasingly dragging your nails over his sensitive skin. Not enough to hurt, but to warn. Your teeth and mouth are very close to his most delicate parts, and he should remember it. “And be polite about it.”

“You will not get away with this, little girl. I’ll spank your pretty ass red.” Daemon complains, and you snicker. Funny, that he thinks that is a threat. You intend to do much worse to him.

“Oh, really? And who says you will have the chance?” Petty. Realizing you are not going to budge, and he cannot make you, Daemon lifts his hand from your head and pats you on the hair. Not an apology, no. A reward for a particularly clever pet. The game is not over yet. Not when he still has everything to play for. What is losing a battle when he can win the war?

“Please.” At his moan, you start jerking him off. It's a bit rough, without any lubricant, so you offer your hand to him, never stopping your tongue and mouth from working. Daemon catches the hint beautifully, spitting on your open hand. You go back to jerking him. His desperation is a heady thing. It gets you almost high on the thrill of it. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to get some friction on your clit. A shame you cannot touch yourself, with both hands busy.

You wish you could suck his cock, mouth watering with the sight. He has one of the prettiest you've ever seen, all flushed skin and slightly curved in a way you know would feel just right inside of you. And he is smells nice too, which is deeply unfair. Clean, yet still male and musky. Daemon tenses, cock throbbing in your hand. He is very close, about to spill all over you.

The sound of metal scratching against metal makes you jerk and pull away. Divine intervention, you think to yourself, as you get up and start rightening your clothes and hair.

“And where in the Seven Hells you think you are going?” His tone is so short and clipped, you worry he is about to pounce you. His breath is heavy. You bet, if you could see his face, he would be absolutely enraged.

“Are you deaf?” You answer condescendingly. You can hear how his teeth grit against themselves with how hard he must be clenching his jaw. “Bruxism is not sexy, by the way. You will hurt your teeth.”

“Deaf? Bruxism? What the fuck are you talking about? You just ruined my orgasm! I was so close and you, you… ” Daemon truly, truly wants to grab at you and choke you. He underestimated you. Again. Such a fool, he has been. Thinking he is leading his little lamb to the slaughter, and here you are, composed and retouching your lipstick without a care in the world. Oh, next time he gets his hands on you, he is going to make you cry.

“They are opening the door.” You answer, smugly.

“You little shit!” Daemon nearly screams. You cannot hold it any longer, and start laughing. The scratching turns louder, and Daemon hurries to tuck himself back into his suit.

When they finally open the doors, you strut out, not a care in the world. You kiss your father’s cheek, who is standing next to the security guys. Daemon glowers.

“Neither of you thought to text or call someone?” Otto asks, incredulous. He turns to you and checks you over. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

“I didn’t hurt your precious little flower, Otto.” Daemon rolls his eyes. Now that he is standing in the light, you can see he looks slightly disheveled, cheeks flushed and standing awkwardly. You nearly smirk. “She is a cunt, just like you. If any, she hurt me.”

Otto glares at him, and places an arm over your shoulder, gently steering you away. He starts talking a mile per second, something about all meetings being adjourned because of the weather and waiting to give you a ride home. Of how worried he was, when you didn’t answer your phone and were not in your office. You hardly listen. Because your phone pings in your hand, another Instagram notification.

@caraxesrider: You will pay for that, little girl.

Your fingers fly over the keyboard in your haste to answer him:

I'm totally reporting you to the PR guys. XOXO.

[friendly-neighborhood-boricua]

[6] You Get A Visitor in the ER

Summary: You're working overtime when you get a visit from an unexpected someone who makes your shift just a bit less excruciating.

Notes: Marauders modern elementary school AU, kindergarten teacher!James Potter x nurse!single mom!reader.

A/N (26/7/2024): this is edited but still kinda short so I may come back to it at some point and add some things ... second to last chapter yay!

Previous Part: James Takes Liam to School Next Part: Kindergarten Graduation Series Masterlist here

About two weeks ago, you woke up in the middle of the night to a hard thump from Liam’s room

You were in his doorway in a flash, of course, because what if he’s dying

And tbh you were kinda close

Turns out he fell out of his bed and the lower right side of his abdomen was hurting really bad

You figured out pretty quick that he probably had appendicitis, which is definitely not ideal

So one rather tense ambulance ride and night in the ER and OR later, you wheeled Liam out of the hospital in a wheelchair so he wouldn't mess up his stitches too much after literally getting an organ removed

You texted James to let him know what happened and that Liam would be staying hope from school for a week to recover

(James had managed to give you his number under the guise of offering to drive Liam to and from school in the future and although you haven't had to ask or even use his number at all, he still has you as one of his pinned contacts)

(Sirius and Remus make fun of him for it)

(Your contact photo is actually a photo of Liam where he's smiling really big while mixing cookie dough for your birthday, which was about three months ago)

As always, James was totally sympathetic and understanding and even dropped by your apartment after school with work for Laim so he wouldn't fall too far behind

You took the week off from work to watch Liam, of course

But you're paying for it now bc your CNO super sucks and isn't understanding at all when it comes to your kid

So now he has you working a fucking double to make up for your missed days

Two 12-hour shifts in a row, 6AM to 6AM

Not fucking fun, dude

(Your CNO is the absolute worst—this is the one that James is pretty sure violates labor laws pretty consistently)

He actually wanted you to do three doubles over the next two weeks but Poppy (not the CNO, but she’s been a nurse at this hospital for time immemorial) told him off, so you only have to do the one today

And at the very least, it’s in the ER

Which isn’t terrible

Definitely not as bad as med-surg

I mean yeah, it can be stressful but it’s nowhere near as bad as medical dramas make it out to be, and it’s pretty rewarding most of the time

It’s a Friday, so Tonks watched Liam in the morning and took him to school, where Ms. Hope picked him up and held onto him for a couple hours until it was time for Ron's sleepover, which she then dropped him off at

So he’s safe and taken care of

And it’s been a pretty quiet night tbh

There was a big car crash during rush hour in the morning but beyond that, nothing super crazy or out of the ordinary

So now you’re on triage duty with Poppy (which just means you and her are hanging out and talking while waiting for something—anything—to happen)

Lily, one of the administrative aides that checks people into the ER, finally pokes her head into the ER at half past ten at night, and it’s rather urgent

Apparently someone’s cut their had pretty badly

You lose a rapid-fire game of rock paper scissors against Poppy, so it’s you that goes to evaluate the patient

But when you enter the ER fast track, you’re really quite surprised

"James?"

To be fair, James is also quite surprised to see you, it's just that he's more smiley and pleased than distressed

He’s hovering near one of the beds and has what seems to be a kitchen towel wrapped around his palm, which you now see has been bleeding quite profusely

You’re at his side embarrassingly quickly and asking him standard questions as he stares at you with a rather glassy look on his face

What happened? Cut my hand while cooking. Can you feel your hand? Um, yeah, it … it hurts pretty bad. Can you tell if it’s still bleeding? I can’t really, no. Do you feel lightheaded at all? Mm, yeah, just … just a bit. Did someone drive you here? Yeah, um, Sirius did … they told him to wait in the lobby.

James is in shock, that much is clear

You ease him to take a seat on the bed and quickly grab a couple forms, which you fill out as you continue asking him questions

Poor boy gets really concerned when you make for the door to the ER proper but ofc you reassure him you’ll be back in a second

You ask Poppy to get Dr. Longbottom before quickly returning to James

And James—Sweet Summer Child James—he's just asking you what you’re doing here so late, if Liam is at Ms. Hope’s, just random questions that aren’t super related to one another

He’s super out of it but you entertain his thoughts and answer whatever questions come to his mind as you ensure that his kitchen towel is applying a decent enough amount of pressure

Alice shows up pretty quickly with a suture tray and asks you to clean James’ cut as she gets ready, which you readily do

You also let her know that James isn’t exactly all there, to which she smiles amusedly and says she can see that lmao

James is kinda confused at first when Alice tries to take away the towel around his hand, but you gently explain what's happening and he understands pretty quick

He looks down at his hand when you finally uncover the cut (it’s long but clean—easy to stitch right up) and poor boy gets a little too light headed at the sight of all the blood that’s covering his hands and the kitchen towel and your latex-gloved hands

James just about falls over onto your shoulder lmaooooo

He doesn’t quite pass out, just like a severe wave of lightheadedness

You quickly encourage him off of your shoulder and you and Alice manage to lay him down on the hospital bed just so he won’t fall off of it and hurt himself if he does decide to pass out

The cut is easy to clean despite how bloody it is, and you round the bed to James’ opposite side as Alice prepares to administer the anesthetic and sew James’ hand up

This entire time, James has just been following your around with his eyes

He’s never gotten to see you work before and it’s really quite interesting to him

And he loves that you’re taking care of him (Such Gentle! Yay!)

Alice asks you to keep James talking and distracted while she sews him up and you happily obliged

It’s kinda hard to keep James talking though because he just keeps asking you questions

By the time Alice is finished with James’ hand, you’ve told him about Liam’s recovery, your shift so far, and how shitty your CNO is for making you work a double

James is much more lucid by the time his stitches are finished which is great because he was sort of starting to worry you

But he’s pretty much all there now :)

He’s also disclosed to you that he cut his hand while trying to take the pit out of an avocado, which you find absolutely hilarious even though you couldn’t really laugh at your own patient

Alice leaves you to wrap James’ hand in protective gauze and give him post-op care instructions

And James is honestly thrilled that your shift has been a quiet one

Because he’s sure that if anyone beyond you two were in the fast track, they would have seen clear as day how he looked at you while you wrapped some soft gauze firmly around his palm

He’s lucky though because you’re tired after working for about sixteen hours with eight still to go, so you don’t really notice the look in his eyes

You give him the normal spiel—wash around the area of the stitches with soap and water not hydrogen peroxide, put vaseline over it, wrap in a non-stick bandage, the works

By the time you’re done, James is just kinda staring at you

You tack on at the end that he can always text you or drop by your apartment to make sure he’s taking care of them correctly

Sirius leaps up from his chair in the lobby when he sees James finally come out of the ER

He was lowkey super worried bc he knows James is the slightest bit squeamish around blood

But now he’s also like super confused bc James is looking at his newly bandaged hand like it had the best compliment ever written on the palm

It’s only on the car ride home that Sirius finally weasels it out of James

Apparently Liam’s mom was working in the ER and she was the one who bandaged up his hand for him after he got stitched up

And apparently, when James was complaining lightly that his palm still hurt right as he was about to leave, she brushed a light kiss against his palm and whispered something to him about how kisses make everything better

Sirius practically has to pick his jaw up off the floor as he and James walked into the latter’s apartment, where Remus had apparently finished their rather bloody attempt at guacamole

And then of course he made James explain what happened to Remus, who just laughs and shakes his head

James’ only regret is that he was too stunned to do anything except wave goodbye as you left

Next Part: Kindergarten Graduation

[broken-egg-yolk-blog]

part one part two

Nico truly hoped Will was right. He kept claiming that as soon as the summer campers left everything would all settle down. Nico felt as if he needed that more than ever. Despite the last week of summer being significantly less eventful as most weeks, it did not stop it from being chaotic. Some campers chose to spend their last few days of camp relaxing and hanging about with their friends they wouldn’t see until next year. Others spent their time pulling last minute pranks, or using every given opportunity to exploit their demi-godly privileges until their last chance.

Friday is seemingly when reality hit. On Sunday most of the campers would pack up their belongings and head home for the school year, leaving behind their second home and their friends. This year Nico was staying for good. A mixture of emotions swelled within him. Anxiety, what if people still held grudges against him? What if they didn’t actually want him to stay at all? Sadness, his closest friends were leaving to go back to school. Sure he had some people, including Will-obviously, but the idea of losing the people he had just gained opened a wound in his heart he wasn’t prepared for. Much to his confusion, Nico also felt excited. He finally had a home. A solid, reliable home, complete with people he cared about and got to spend time with.

Will hiked up the hill to meet him. He sat down in the grass next to Nico with a slight sigh. Whenever Will sat down next to him Nico couldn’t help but notice that he sat fairly close. Close enough that their knees, or elbows, or sometimes even their hands, would bump into and brush against one another. Nico, not so secretly, enjoyed it. It was nice having someone that wasn’t afraid to be near him, someone that didn’t see him as inherently dangerous or evil. 

“Hi,” Nico says.

Will glances over at him, that soft permanent smile making Nico feel compelled to return it, “Hey, death boy.”

Nico rolled his eyes lightly, he’d long since grown used to the nickname but he couldn’t help but find it mildly ridiculous every time.

“How is the infirmary?”

“Forecast says it probably won’t burn down,” Will jokes, “assuming the Stoll brothers keep it together for another forty-eight hours.”

“That is a lot to ask of them you know,” Nico met his eyes, he had been practicing eye contact with Jason earlier that day. Despite his attempts to prove Will wrong, Nico felt the strong urge to pull his focus away. Will’s eyes were way different than Jasons. There was so much more to looking at him, it made Nico’s body burn beneath his skin.

“Yeah, well, they owe me a few favors,” Will replied, his gaze tracing Nico’s face in a way that made him want to turn away and hide forever, yet simultaneously never look away. 

Nico smiled at Will, the eye contact burning a hole between them. Will was the first to look away, Nico would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved, something about it held an intensity Nico hadn’t been ready for, but the absence of it left him craving more. A comfortable silence settled between the two of them as they took turns looking out over the scene of camp below them and stealing gazes of the other when they were not looking. 

Nico thought that Will had an unfair advantage when it came to looks. He felt as if he was nothing truly special, he definitely wasn’t the worst looking but when compared to Will, let’s just say he didn’t think they even belonged on the same measuring scale. Especially now, in the afternoon light, finally relaxing after a day of work, Will looked incredible. His messy blonde hair clumped into curls falling just below his law line, summer tanned skin radiating warmth, his skin decorated with an excess of freckles from a well spent summer.

“Will,”

“Yeah?” Nico could see him gaze over from the corner of his eye but he kept his gaze locked on the horizon.

“You’re from Texas, right?”

“Indeed,” Will smiled, sounding slightly confused. Nico just hummed in response. A beat of silence held between them. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I just-” Nico bit his lip, realizing now how stupid it sounded, “was curious?”

“About something you already knew?”

“Yes.” That, somehow, made Will laugh, which caused a flood of warmth to spread through Nico’s body as their legs bumped together.

“Do you want to know more about it?” 

More about you, Nico thought, “Yes.”

“Okay what do you want to know?”  Will asked, sounding incredibly amused. He shifted his body so that he was facing Nico more, their legs partially intertwined, crossed at the ankles. Will didn’t seem to notice, or at least he didn’t seem to mind.

Fuck, Nico chided to himself. He hadn’t thought this far in advance. He racked his brain for questions about Texas. He only ever knew one other person from Texas, Leo Valdez. The name brought a wave of sadness through Nico but he pushed it away, refusing to dwell on it right now. Leo was definitely not the prime example of a proper Texan, but it was all Nico had to work with. 

“Do you have one of those hats?” Nico blurted out, it was a stupid question. The first thing that had come to his mind was a memory of a running joke between Jason, Piper and Leo about him needing some type of hat to actually count as an Texan. Will would absolutely think he was stupid.

Instead of berating him, Will laughed again. “You mean a cowboy hat?”

“Yes, one of those.”

“You tell me you want to learn more about Texas, then your first question is ‘do you have a cowboy hat?’” 

“Obviously.” Nico layered his voice with as much confidence as he could.

“What type of question is that?”

“Well I heard that you're not a real Texan if you don't own one.”

“Where did you even hear that?” Will grinned, his face shining with exasperation.

“That’s not important.” Nico was gaining more reassurance, as he often did when conversations like this took off between the two of them.

“I think it might be, someone here is clearly spreading false information.”

“So then you don’t have one?”

“That is not what I said.” Will shot him a look, one that said ‘be careful here or you might just get tackled’. Nico was willing to push his luck.

“Sure sounds like it, sunshine.” That luck Nico was just thinking about? Pushed.

Will scoffed, both surprised and amused. “Fine. I do.”

“You do what?” Nico blinked at him.

“Oh don’t play stupid,” 

“I simply do not know what you are talking about, Solace.”

Will grit his teeth, eyes sparkling. “I own a cowboy hat.”

“No way! Are you from Texas?” Nico gasped.

“Oh you are such an asshole,” 

“You deserve it.”

“Trust me I have gotten enough shit over that hat, my mom made me take it to camp with me.” Will sighed dramatically, “She said ‘no good country artist mother would leave her baby to fend for himself without the proper attire,’. Lee and Micheal used to bully the living daylight out of me over it.”

Nico found himself laughing at the story. He imagined a young Will, showing up to Camp Half-Blood cowboy hat sat upon his head. It was a glorious image. 

“Do you still have it?” Nico asked, still grinning at the mental image.

“Yeah, tucked under my bunk.” Will shook his head, not trying to hide the smile on his own face.

A thought popped into Nico’s head, “Oh please tell me you have those boots too!”

“Gods no!” Will cried out, the two boys nearly fell over each other laughing. “I am not that southern.”

“Maybe when you’re tired, or mad.”

“What?”

“Your accent, it’s more noticeable when you’re tired or mad.” Immediately after saying this Nico worried if he crossed the line from friend, into weird stalker.

“I do not. Have an accent.” Will’s voice was more dramatically shocked than stern. Nico relaxed a little bit. 

“Oh you so do.”

“Fine, but so do you.”

“What?!” That earned a grin from the other boy.

“Only on certain words, usually the really italian ones, you can’t help but pronounce them correctly.” Will looked smug, his eyes narrow and smirk wide. Nico couldn’t help but blush. Will had a point.

“Fine then,” He decided, “We’re even.”

“Hmph.” Will thinks for a moment, “My turn-”

“Your turn?” Nico blurts out, cutting him off.

“Yes, you asked me a question. Now I get to ask you a question.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works-”

“It is now, I make the rules.” Will cut Nico off this time, “Your clothes, the whole edgy ‘too emo for school’ vibe, is that a cabin requirement? Or personal preference?”

Nico rolled his eyes. Piper and Percy had explained to him what emo meant a few weeks before, the first time Will had called him that. 

“It’s personal preference, I think. It just matches how I feel I guess. I think I would feel like a complete loser and a total fraud in khaki shorts and an orange shirt.” Nico tried to hide his smirk on the last line.

“Yeah okay, that makes-” Will realized Nico’s attack, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing, you flip flop wearing fool”

“They’re so much more comfortable, my feet overheat too much otherwise.”

“I am so sure they do.” Nico had to admit, Will’s tone did sound pretty convincing. 

“Whatever, so you just like the dark edgy clothes?”

“Yep.”

“Interesting,” Will paused for a moment before matter-of-factly stating: “I like them too.”

Nico’s face burnt red. “What?” He sputtered out.

“I said I like them too, they look good on you.” Will looked over Nico, as if studying his composure of dark wash jeans and black shirt. “It suits you.”

Nico forced himself to regain his composure, he needed to make some type of step forwards. He couldn’t keep letting Will fluster him and then run away.

“Well, I think you’d look really good in that hat of yours.” The words slipped from his mouth and nearly took the contents of his stomach with them. 

“Really?” Will asked, obviously caught off guard. 

“Oh yeah, I can see it now. It’d be great.”

Will blushed, a sight that invoked feelings within Nico that he wanted to chase for the rest of his life. Nico knew there was no turning back now. He was absolutely in over his head for this boy.

“My turn,” Nico said, not giving Will a chance to respond. “Apollo’s thing is music, right? Do you play an instrument?”

“Technically?” Will replied, still apparently recovering, “I mean I know quite a few, I’d say I’m the best at guitar out of all of them but music hasn’t ever really been my thing.”

“Right,”

“I’m not bad at it by any means but I am nowhere near as good as Austin, I guess we all have our field that we really excel in.” 

“Naturally,” Nico nodded.

“Why?”

“You always ask follow-up questions to my questions.” Nico stated, watching Will carefully.

“Does it annoy you?” Will asked.

“A little bit.” Nico was not telling the truth, Will didn’t need to know that.

“Good.” He grinned.

“Okay well, you never really lead many of the campfire songs like your siblings do, I was curious again I guess.” Nico watched the other boy's face as he spoke, seeing him think through his response, watching the words formulate in his head.

“In all honesty,” Will said, that resting smile occupying his face, “It’s because they don’t like the music that I listen to as much.”

“Is it country music?” Nico had asked this seriously, but Will must have taken it as a joke because he rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Not entirely,” He shook his head lightly, his golden hair fanning out and settling back down again, “I like a lot of midwest emo,”

Nico must have looked really lost, and honestly he was. He knew what the word ‘emo’ meant but midwest emo? Those words didn’t even have meaning. 

“I’ll explain it to you some other time” Will promised.

“You’ll just have to show me.” Nico shrugged, his false confidence from earlier still sitting in his gut.

“What now you want me to serenade you too?” Will looked at Nico, moving ever so slightly closer as he asked, his tone had a hint of challenge to it. 

“Yes.” Nico replied bluntly. “Preferably with the cowboy hat on.”

“You ask too much of me.” Will barely shook his head, eyes still locked on the boy in front of him.

“Always. But you know,” He let his eyes slip from Will’s piercing gaze down to his lips, then immediately back up to his eyes, “It would do wonders for that charm of yours.”

With that, Nico stood up. He let whatever stupid confidence was flowing within him carry him away, back down the hill, feeling as if he was floating. Leaving the son of Apollo still dumbstruck in the grass, and very slight, incredibly, impressed.

[klanced]

Hey Katie! What are ur fav and least favourite bits of law school? Also which of the vld gang do u think would become lawyers, I could see allura, lance and maybe shiro

Hope u have a good day!!!! no pressure to answer this if u don't feel like it <33333

you're a sweetheart anon. i'm always happen to (slowly) answer questions about law school, especially people who are considering applying :)

Favorite parts of law school:

I'm going to be real with you guys, I am a dork-ass nerd who enjoys spending hours studying and reading so law school is like heaven for me lol

I just really enjoy being a law student. I like that I'm tangibly working towards my lifelong goal of becoming a lawyer. I like that the material I'm learning is really challenging, because I enjoy the challenge and putting in the effort to really learn and understand something.

This is less law school-specific, but I really love living as an independent adult in the city, with all the perks that come with being a graduate student. Between my social life and academic life, this is the most functional I have ever been lmao

Least favorite parts:

The networking events. God. Both the professional networking events and the law school body events. I hate being a person who is perceived and I also hate drinking around strangers. Fortunately I don't have to go to that many mixers because those events are more for big law/corporate law people, whereas I'm in public interest. But sometimes I force myself to go because it is a really good idea to meet other established lawyers in my field, especially as I start thinking about post-grad jobs. it always sucks though. I met the highest-ranked judges in my state the other day, which was cool

Job-Hunting. It feels like I am always job-hunting. I am applying right now for internships for NEXT SUMMER. I have sent out so many cover letters. I have scheduled so many interviews. Fortunately I've discovered that I actually like interviews and I'm apparently insanely great at them, I think law school has turned me into a sociopath.

I am so stressed all the time omfg. The worst part is that a lot of this stress is my own damn fault (I do way too many things lmfao) but I have SO MANY white hairs now whyyyyyyyyyyy :sobs: :sobs: (narrator voice: she did this to herself)

--

Re: the Voltron cast. Allura is definitely the most clear-cut choice for who would become a lawyer. I can see Lance and Shiro leaning towards careers in law as well, but I have no idea what kind of law they would practice lol. I also think Veronica and Nadia would make great lawyers. And my final dark horse nomination: I can see Shay practicing environmental law.

[mdhwrites]

The Point of Asking How Bad a Parent Odalia is

My last blog was asking this question. However, with many of the responses I got, I feel like I failed to articulate the why for that question. The importance of it and I answered and then deleted an ask that gave me a chance to answer that because it ended up muddying the point by being a response. So, here it is:

If you cannot understand cultural perspective in fiction, how do you ever write a convincing world that is anything other than our own?

Most of Odalia's actions are deplorable... By our standards and sensibilities. When taken out of context. The problem is that unless a work is ENTIRELY allegorical, and incredibly smart with those allegories, that approach never works. In fact, the most effective speculative fiction takes the context of the world they've made and uses it to AMPLIFY the point they're making. To further reinforce the concepts they're going for. As such, questioning if someone who is framed as evil within a text whether they would be actually evil by the merits of their society is kind of important because that contrast can say a lot.

In TOH's case, this never coalesces into anything. Odalia being a good parent from the perspective of not wanting her child to be a criminal and so not wanting her to interact with rulebreakers or literal criminals... It doesn't say anything. After all, it's not like the rules dictate you must let someone else die or must be cruel. No, the rules they're breaking are things like "You need to be registered with the state," and "Don't skip class." I'm sorry but that isn't extreme in any way? Not unless we're supposed to just coddle people who don't want to participate in society and ignore them ignoring their social obligations? Like the coven system is the Isle's ONE real law and the covens aren't even jobs. You are beholden to no one getting a coven sigil because you still have to go get a job. It's like saying requiring citizenship in ANY country is bad because it holds you accountable to anyone. Because someone is placing any sort of restriction on you. That... That's a pretty shitty theme.

And it IS a theme. It's why the show essentially claims Camila to be a bad parent until For the Future. She renounces her ONE time that she ever held Luz back from being full force her and the audience, and Luz, are meant to cheer for this. That this is taking away some cardinal sin when, and this is in our context because it's supposedly Earth, the reason Luz was sent to Summer Camp, to make friends, was:

She brought a BOMB to school in the form of fireworks, which is against the rules, if not law, in any school, especially without advance permission.

She assaulted people with wild animals she could not control which is a crime literally anywhere.

She brought live, WILD. ANIMALS. into a school without permission, nor without a way to control them and keep others safe which is again, in most circumstances, a crime. And she does this one TWICE. Explicitly.

She is not sent to Juvy, or military camp or ANY sort of real correctional facility. She is sent to a life skills camp instead. Not a conversion camp of any sort, just one meant to teach her basic necessities of being an adult someday, something a lot of people actually argue should be a regular part of school curriculum for good reason. And this, THIS, was her going too far as a parent.

All Odalia being the worst parent ever is further reinforcement of a theme that claims being a parent is a bad thing. Flatly. If you are doing more than strictly keeping your child alive, you are a bad parent. I'm sorry but that feels really bad and like a pretty shitty theme if you ask me. It honest to god, more so proponents that neglect is good. Give them a room, give them access to food, then fuck off. That's... That's not what 99% of kids want from a parent. They want an actual parent. I mean, it even understands this with Reaching Out but even then, the final agreement is "I won't tell you what to do ever and when you want me, I will be available." Parents are more than just toys for their kids. I'm sorry to anyone who's finding this out now somehow. They are meant to teach you morals, how to interact with society, to prepare you for your future, etc. like that. They are also there to take care of you but they are not strictly your friends because they're there to help you improve to be a better person, much like how a therapist isn't your friend. This is a LARGE part of why parenting is so difficult.

To simplify it in the way so many lazy analysts do by going "X person was mean so they're abusive," is... Dumb. And bad. And helps no one. It also breaks your fantasy worlds so maybe try a little harder? Or just keep using buzzwords. It is the easier way to do it.

See you next tale.

======+++++======

The ask that brought this about mentioned Mother Gothel like Odalia and Gothel are even comparable in their writing which... No. Mother Gothel is praised for good reason because she 1000%, in universe and out, is abusive. Period. In every possible way, including Rapunzel's reactions about her.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[f1letters]

dear reader | cl16

"to a house, not a home, all alone cause nobody's there"

summary: when two strangers meet by fate in the same bar with the same goal - to drink their feelings - maybe they discover that they are actually two halves that fit together perfectly

warning: overall fluff with a little hint of angst, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of feeling trapped, mentions of Ferrari struggling over the season, brief mention of Charles' father and Jules Bianchi, strangers who fall in love on the same night they meet, instant lovers, a story very much driven by the idea of fate/destiny, open ending heavily inspired by the movie 'serendipity'

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

word count: 2.8k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, and a note written by the reader.

if you never watched 'it 'serendipity' and you are a hopeless romantic like me, please do, you will love it 💕 enjoy this one!

masterlist

Dear reader, if it feels like a trap

You're already in one

Dear reader, get out your map

Pick somewhere and just run

The funny thing about time is that it waits for no one.

No matter how many clocks have stopped, time is always ticking, regardless of who manages to keep up with it.

It seemed to advance at a speed impossible to follow and without even realizing it, Y/N ended up feeling like a spectator in her own life.

After being pushed by her parents to go to law school against her will, fulfilling their desire for her to join the family business, the girl just ended up with a degree she didn't like, a huge debt in her pocket and even more pressure on her shoulders.

Maybe working with them will make things better, maybe they'll finally be proud of me, she thought through the painful college years trying to make ends meet. But in the end, joining the company had been the worst decision of her life.

Her parents seemed to expect even more from her and no matter how long she worked and how hard she tried, nothing ever seemed enough for them. Her quest for validation from her parents just ended up suffocating her.

The young woman simply felt trapped with no options for escape.

In serious need to unwind for a night, the girl grabbed her old purse lying on her bed and walked through the corridors of the tiny apartment that she could barely afford, making her way to the exit door.

She knew she couldn't escape time or fate, but just for one night, Y/N allowed herself to breathe again, in hopes of regaining the lost sense of freedom she once used to feel.

Dear reader, burn all the files

Desert all your past lives

And if you don't recognize yourself

That means you did it right

Someone awfully familiar with the struggle she was feeling was the Monegasque lost in the same streets of the small Italian town.

Charles had never felt like this before, living so intensely inside his own head, as he looked for answers to everything that seemed to be going wrong around him.

And his head was a darker and darker place the longer he stayed there.

The beginning of the season now seemed like a distant and foreign memory. He could barely remember how he felt on top of the world as he climbed on top of the podiums, how his face hurt from smiling so much and how his confidence and his ambition were through the roof.

He couldn't recognize that hopeful, optimistic man anymore.

Being a Formula 1 driver had once been his biggest life goal. It was something he had to do not only for himself but also for those who had sacrificed time and time again for his success. For his father. For Jules.

Now his career seemed to be just a weight on his conscience.

They didn't deserve to see you fail, you're such a disappointment, he thought to himself, falling back into his self-sabotaging behaviour.

If his love for the sport no longer served as his safe haven, maybe for one night alcohol would serve as a distraction for a few hours.

Never take advice from someone who's falling apart

Never take advice from someone who's falling apart

Opening the dark bar's golden doors, Charles was immediately enveloped by the warmth and the nostalgia that filled the place.

The room was nearly empty. Just two tables were occupied by a couple of foreigners and a group of friends making casual conversation.

And at that moment, loneliness only filled him more, because he had no one. How pathetic.

His eyes went to the bar stools, noticing then the presence of another unknown figure next to the bartender who was cleaning the counter.

The girl rested her head on one of her hands while the other entertained a glass with a clear drink into circles without much thought. 

The Monegasque was sure her expression mirrored his empty one, and for a second he found a scrap of comfort in the solitude shared between them.

The driver approached the bar, taking one of the high seats and leaving a couple of empty stools separating the two of them.

"A bourbon, neat." He asked the employee.

"Ugh," He heard unexpectedly in the distance coming from the girl, enough under the influence to have no filter anymore. "I hate bourbon. I swear I don't know how you people can drink that."

Giving in to his curiosity to know more about the mysterious gloomy girl, Charles answered her. "What do you suggest I drink then?"

"For me, nothing beats a classic Vodka Martini," She replied, raising the glass in her hand to her mouth and finishing the drink in one go. "Especially when it comes to forgetting your problems." Y/N whispered to herself.

"Hey man," Charles called the bartender, grabbing his attention. "Forget the bourbon and bring me a Vodka Martini instead. In fact, make it two." He ordered, giving the girl a smirk as he walked over to the seat beside her.

Dear reader, bend when you can

Snap when you have to

Dear reader, you don't have to answer

Just 'cause they asked you

"Forgetting your problems, huh?" He asked, inquisitive.

"You're damn right..." The girl huffed, irritated not by the boy next to her but by the mess her life was.

"Well, that makes two of us," Charles tipped his glass towards her, clinking them. "Cheers!"

Y/N turned her body towards him, leaning her back against the cold bar and placing her elbows on top of it.

"Let it out, pretty boy," She said in a flirtatious tone brought on by the unusual confidence that alcohol brought her. "Tonight I'm all ears. What's wrong with you?"

"Where should I start." The driver snorted.

"And how about the start? What bothers you the most right now? What's the first thing that comes to your mind?" She asked, tilting her head.

"Hmm... Work." Charles responded, in an attempt to keep some secrecy between himself and the stranger, though her magical aura begged him to drop his guard.

"What you do?" The young woman questioned but she saw the unsure expression on the man's face straight away and couldn't help but feel guilty for trying to invade his privacy. "I- I'm sorry, you don't have to answer just because I asked you something."

Charles was so used to being flooded with questions and forced to suffer through endless interrogations with no way to escape that the girl's small gesture made him visibly relax in his chair.

"It's okay, I- Thanks," He said, eyes twinkling in her direction.

Tonight, all he wanted was to keep that detail about himself hidden. But something about her... Something about her made him vulnerable, as if she could see beyond all the walls and facades he put up.

"I drive for a Formula 1 team. Ferrari, to be more precise." He confessed.

"Oh, really?" Y/N said, his confession not having much of an effect on her tone. She shrugged her shoulders as she finished off her fourth drink. "Sounds fun."

Never did Charles feel so special in feeling so insignificant.

Y/N was the first person who saw him as Charles instead of "Il Predestinato" in a long time.

Dear reader, the greatest of luxuries is your secrets

Dear reader, when you aim at the devil

Make sure you don't miss

Time flew by as the two were lost in the light that shone through the cracks of their shattered souls.

By fate or some magic of the universe, two equally broken halves felt understood, acknowledged, complete.

Both Y/N and Charles had always been people to keep their secrets hidden like they were their greatest of luxuries, but the enigmatic connection between them brought such an astounding, tender feeling in their hearts that both of them felt quickly taken aback.

As the night wore on, Charles's hand unknowingly moved to the top of hers, and Y/N let their fingers lovingly intertwine, causing her heart to flutter.

"Do you want to get out of here? We could go for a walk, maybe you could show me around the town a bit." The Monegasque questioned, receiving an immediate nod from the young woman.

It was completely crazy to feel like that in only a few hours, they both thought to themselves.

But even if only for one night, just one night, the couple was determined to make the most of the chance destiny had given them.

Even if they knew they were living on borrowed time.

Never take advice from someone who's falling apart

Never take advice from someone who's falling apart

The streets were deserted, with not a person in sight or a voice echoing along the roads.

On the grey pavements in that hidden little town, there was only the mystical light of the moon, the enchanting laughter that escaped their mouths and the lingering magic between the two strangers wandering through the night.

With their hands still clasped together like two magnets, Charles was telling her a story from his childhood, the frown he had on his face earlier now long forgotten.

"You should have seen Jules and Enzo's faces! They couldn't believe I won when I was just a little kid next to them! They were- What?" The boy stopped in his tracks when he saw the smirk Y/N was wearing.

"Nothing," She replied with her big starry eyes, not letting her smile drop. The girl hugged his arm, resting her head on his shoulder, sighing. "I'm just glad I met you."

Charles came to a stop, causing her to do the same, and let his gaze settle on her face as he tried to memorize every last detail about her to keep safe with him.

"Y/N," The driver whispered, grabbing her face delicately and pulling her closer to him. "You'll never understand how much I needed someone like you right now."

So I wander through these nights

I prefer hiding in plain sight

My fourth drink in my hand

These desperate prayers of a cursed man

"We shouldn't do this." The girl said apprehensively, though her body give in to the rising tension as she closed the distance between them even more, her nose slightly brushing his.

"You're right, we shouldn't," The Monegasque agreed, letting his forehead rest on hers, with the girl's warm lips now so close to his mouth that he could feel their inviting heat. "Tell me not to kiss you and I won't. But please, tell me to stop."

"Don't kiss me," She spat in a second, simultaneously in a battle between her head, which feared the guaranteed end to their short-lived romance, and her heart, which just wanted to feel alive for one night in the arms of someone who understood her better than anyone ever did.

Without controlling the words that came out of her mouth, as well as the way her lips laid barely over his, Y/N surrender to her temptation. "But, you know, you should never take advice from someone who's falling apart."

Without thinking twice, Charles kissed her as if the world was going to end that night.

Spilling out to you for free

But darling, darling, please

You wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking

If you knew where I was walking

There was no going back.

They would never know a world where they wouldn't remember how it felt to have their lips connected, how their tongues fought a flawless, other-worldly battle, how their breaths and their hearts were in perfect sync.

It didn't matter how much time passed, or what outcome their brief history might have: they lived it and it was going to be forever a part of them.

The sun was threatening to rise and the two were still involved in each other, fearing the inevitable end they had to put to their once-in-a-lifetime romance.

Y/N noticed one of the street vendors who usually occupied part of the sidewalk displaying a large collection of books in his small blue sales stand and her eyes were immediately drawn to a familiar red and gold book.

To a house, not a home, all alone 'cause nobody's there

Where I pace in my pen and my friends found friends who care

No one sees when you lose when you're playing solitaire

Pulling the driver by the hand, the girl picked up the book. "Oh my god, it looks exactly like mine. It's my favourite."

"'The Song of Achilles'? Never heard of it."

Looking at the man, Y/N couldn't let their fairy tale end with a simple goodbye. So she took a pen from her bag and opened the first page of the book, writing something the driver didn't get a chance to read.

"Tonight was amazing, Charles. You are such a wonderful person, an angel who came to rescue me from myself when I felt all alone and when I needed it most." She said, letting a tear fall as she ran a hand over his jaw. 

"I will be grateful every day for having met you and I will forever keep you close to my heart."

She pulled him to her, kissing him through the tears and sadness they felt.

"Y/N, I don't want to say goodbye." Charles said, his head resting on top of hers as he hugged her tightly with his eyes closed.

"This isn't goodbye," He released her, looking confused at her words. "Fate brought us together and I believe it will bring us back together if it's meant to be."

She closed the book, placed it back on the shelf and gave the seller some money as a reward.

"In that book, I wrote a message for you and my number. If one day you find it, you'll know what to do."

Y/N kissed his cheek and, with those vague words, turned her back and walked away until he could no longer see her everlasting image.

You should find another guiding light, guiding light

But I shine so bright

You should find another guiding light, guiding light

But I shine so bright

You should find another, you should find another

Find another, you should find another

For a year, Charles searched incessantly for that book.

He couldn't keep track of the number of times he went into thrift stores looking for it, or that he approached people reading a similar book on the street, questioning them about a possible mysterious note at the beginning of the story.

Every time he came to Italy, wherever part of the country he was in, his focus was on finding the girl he let go of that night.

And as a driver for the iconic Italian team, there were hundreds of opportunities and attempts... All in vain.

Eventually, the boy gave up and decided to just believe her words: fate brought us together and I believe it will bring us back together.

Time moved on, the seasons changed and their adventure just became a distant memory hidden in the most intimate part of his mind as he devoted himself to his career, the one thing he was tremendously passionate about once again.

The man was getting ready to jump in the car for one more training session before the season started, when his younger brother walked into his room, holding a book.

"Hey, you will never guess what just happened out there!" Arthur announced his entrance enthusiastically. "This random guy just randomly gave me a book in the lobby! I think my girlfriend mentioned it the other day and-"

Charles, who had finally glanced at the younger Leclerc, immediately recognized the cover and roughly snatched it from the boy's hand.

"Hey! That's mine!" Arthur protested.

The driver opened the first page in anticipation and he could have sworn his heart flatlined for a few seconds when finally, after so much searching, the book fell right into his hands.

Her delicate handwriting decorated the top corner of the page, signing her name above a set of numbers.

'Dear reader,

I've always heard that if two people are meant to be together, they always find their way back to each other.

So please, destiny, be kind and bring back my guiding light because no one ever shined as brightly as he did.

Forever yours, Y/N.'

The universe had finally given him the second chance he'd been waiting for, and Charles surely wasn't going to waste it.

You should find another

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thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌

[eroguron0nsense]

Little thing that occurred to me about Law and Haki

I've always attributed the "canon" reason for Law continually getting spanked or struggling in spite of his virtually unparalleled power to be that he's just comparatively worse at haki than a lot of his opponents. Generally speaking, you can work your way around a LOT of devil fruit powers or brute force through them if you've got enough spatial intelligence and haki to work your way around them (see Oden, Vergo, Shanks, presumably Roger). Law's haki is established in Punk Hazard/Dressrossa to be weaker than Vergo's and Doffy's, in spite of certain external factors that contributed to him losing fights he could have either won or done substantially better in, and that kind of leads a lot of people to thinking that Law's powers are too good and they just needed to nerf him so that the fights could actually be more difficult and give Luffy an actual chance to shine/make the stakes higher etc That much is absolutely true, and Law having more developed haki combined with the way he's learned to use the Ope Ope no Mi would probably make him damn near invincible. I do, however, think that there's a bit more to this–and a more plausible justification– than just Law being as vulnerable or outmatched as the series needs him to be at any point in time, which is that he's had little to no fucking opportunity to polish it.

So quick recap: Law probably had some understanding of how haki worked from his time training with the Donquixote family, who taught him everything he knows about martial arts/swordplay/combat that didn't involve devil fruits. After Minion Island and Cora's death, he makes his way to Swallow Island, finds Bepo being bullied by Penguin and Shachi, and eventually manages to recruit all three to start the Heart Pirates. The thing is, as Cora told Law before he died, eating the Ope Ope no Mi turns both Doffy and the Marines against Law and virtually leaves him all alone with three children who are weaker fighters than him, and unless Oda gives him a second backstory, we can presume Law had no other mentors the entire time. The entire foundation for Law learning Haki in a world where everyone who knew about him would have been hunting him down a la Nico Robin would just have been him working off of what he learned from the Donquixote family. We don't know how the rest of the worst generation picked it up except for Luffy, who despite having only really understood what it was recently, spent two years being mentored and trained intensively by one of the greatest haki users alive; Law presumably had to pick it up on his own in life or death circumstances and had to focus more on escape or evasion as a 13 year old with limited powers and going through the whole childhood Luffy process of actually learning how to utilize his devil fruit in combat, especially since the Ope Ope no Mi canonically involves a hell of a lot of skill, intricacy, and imagination to be able to use to its fullest potential. The difference in Law's ability and more experienced or better haki users is basically the difference between people who've been training in highly specific martial arts for a long time and someone who was good at karate until they had to stop taking classes in middle school, and basically had to try and build up any skills they had developed by that point entirely on their own with no external guidance. You can learn to hold your own in a fight but the actual skills involved in picking up haki either come under super specific circumstances or involve learning highly specialized skills under mentorship. The people who are really, really good at it either have years and years of experience honing it (every Yonko, Katakuri), had it knocked into them by someone who was better at it (see Luffy and Zoro's training arcs, Hyogoro helping Luffy build on what he'd learned from Rayleigh to finally pick up Ryuo), or levelled it up under very specific life or death circumstances after already having a background in it (see the Katakuri fight, or Luffy unlocking his Ryuo under duress). Law and his crew of babies were presumably running for their lives constantly or trying to live under the radar until they'd gotten a bit stronger so that Doffy didn't pick up on the fact that Law was out there and vulnerable; their circumstances just weren't quite the right ones to develop their haki as quickly or as strongly.

[kr-han]

Cobra, Murayama, and Bike

I was originally wanting to prove that Cobra never going to high school. But I ended up finding something more intriguing about the whole situation. Remember this credit scene from Final Mission?

Why would Murayama go to meet Cobra in person like that, in front of the whole Sannoh Rengokai's members? I feel like there is an underlying issue in this scene. Which come to my assumption that Murayama actually doesn't want to talk about bike, it was something else.

But upon the presence of other members that might be Murayama didn't expect to be there (but hello, it's Sannoh! They're always in a group anyway), he holds it up. Instead, he asked about bike. Cobra, in the other hand might seem like stoic and has a personality like 'I don't give a fuck', but he's not. He knew all along that bike was never Murayama's concern that's why he asked, "Can you get a license?"

Cobra knew it and he played dumb (such a snake—well, he is). With that question, it'll postponed their talk because they want it to be private. Just both of them. But when it comes, it wouldn't just about bike. It might something else, about life for example.

I might get it wrong, but almost everyone in fandom portrays them as oblivious. But no, I don't think so. They might be oblivious, sometimes. But not every time. Presumably, they're just awkward around each other. Because, no doubt, they just known each other as a person not as a leader of some gangs.

Back to driver's license. I don't think Cobra would be that cruel to Murayama. Because I have an assumption about him, and his bike and it linked to MUGEN era. Let's take a look on this scene from Road to HiGH&LOW.

Three of them are childhood friends, but let's dive into the details. Noboru wore a high school uniform which means he went to high school. No wonder, because he went to university as well (dropped out, though). Then, by this scene, you may ask, do Cobra and Yamato went to school? My answer would be no.

Why? They're in MUGEN. They did road trip, perhaps, from morning to another morning. With that, when they have time for school? No. Because they don't go to school. They just ride.

Why is Cobra MUGEN and whether or not he went to high school linked to the question: "Can you get a license?"? Let me elaborate. According to this cart:

MUGEN's members' bike are in heavy motorcycle category which requires to be 18 years old to get a license. If Cobra and Yamato joined MUGEN in their high school era at that time, they were about 16 years old. That's breaking the law but who cares anyway they ride bike without helmet.

There are two possibilities about Cobra and Yamato's driver license:

They have driver's license but they but not the right one.

They don't have.

And why don't they go to school? It simply because they already have job. In present timeline, Yamato already taking over Asahina Garage and Cobra would take over Hino Gas Station (I assume his parents are still alive by the timeline and yes, he's not jobless. I thought he was jobless LMAO). Whereas Noboru's parents seem didn't have any business in Sannoh that's why Noboru need to be educated in order to get a job (which is realistic).

Also, in my opinion, with his personality, Cobra would never didn't want to talk about bike with Murayama just because he didn't get a license yet. It was because both of them know that it's not the real thing they wanted to talk about.

They did talk, anyway. Remember this scene from HiGH&LOW The Worst?

Was he really busy? May be not. But Cobra is a chronically offline person in my opinion, he prefers direct conversation. But hey, he picked it up, at least. Even teased about the bike. They finally get a chance to talk.

He teased because he wanted to make sure whether or not Murayama was ready to talk about the real thing. I might overthink it, but in my assumption, they talk about life, and it was adulting to be exact. In my opinion, more like my head canon, this particular talk with Cobra led Murayama to graduate from Oya High and somehow Furuya and Seki found out about it.

But hey, I Murayama did get a bike at the end, right?

From now on, it'll be just my head canons and my interpretation of their characters. They complement each other. Murayama has a childish persona and Cobra has a mature persona. But deep inside, they are the opposite of their persona. It seems like as the time goes on, as they have a lot more talk, Cobra would talk more, and Murayama would listen more.

Platonically or romantically (I'm their shipper anyway), they're comfortable with each other's existence and company. You know sometimes, no matter how much you trust in your best friend, no matter how much you love them, and you know they would never judge you, there will always things you can't talk about with them. That's how Cobra and Murayama connected.

They're both leaders, and they became leaders just because they're stronger than anyone else. They were clueless and don't know if they did the right thing with their current role. Murayama was a lone wolf, whereas Cobra was a follower. He has been tagging along with Tatsuya and Kohaku for a long time. They completed each other.

With their responsibility as leaders, there's always something they couldn't talk to their closest friends. For Cobra, he couldn't talk about it to Sannoh's member even though they're Yamato and Noboru. For Murayama, he couldn't talk about it to Furuya and Seki. That's why they talk to each other, leaning on each other's back, joining hands in the same burden. They could understand each other and glad that they find each other. That's how Cobra and Murayama connected. That's how their dynamic work.

[blog001sblog]

This is going to be my last post on this blog and for this fandom, so I can finally get this off my chest.

The belittling of Richie Tozier in the fandom by so many people just rubs me the wrong way. It seems that people only enjoy him if he's written as a sad, pathetic idiot. Emphasis on the "idiot," as if being a jokester immediately makes you stupid, as if the original novel doesn't state that he's smart and actually gets good grades at school, even without trying. Every headcanon just nerfs him down: "his dick doesn't work," "he's going to kill himself post-IT Chapter Two," "he's going to be miserable and in the closet forever," and it's not even done to explore complex scenarios; it's just to degrade him. Almost every post I see about Richie portrays him as a pathetic mess who cries all the time, and it's just so awful.

The constant feminization of the character also rubs me off the wrong way.

People have given others who feminize Eddie a hard time in the fandom before because a lot of people woobified him and made him too soft and girly, just because they headcanon him as the bottom. But in the attempt to avoid that stereotype and make Eddie the macho top, Richie has become the one the fandom started feminizing in the worst possible way. Now it's like fandom requirement for everyone to belive that Richie should be the bottom, he should be the girly one, he should be the one we headcanon as MTF trans. And it's worse since these headcanons stem from the fact that Richie is also seen as the emotional one in the fandom just because he cried in the movie, as if that wasn't the proper response to the person you loved dying.

Oh, and also, fuck the bisexuality erasure of the character, as if the Muschietti version is the end-all, be-all of the character, so when they see Richie as gay, it has to be accepted as law, ignoring the complexity of his character and all the bi coding from the original source material.

[roosterforme]

I'll Take You There | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's best friend is moving to San Diego, and she asks him for a little help.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, slight self doubt, piv intercourse without condom

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This fic is based on a super hot request from an anonymous friend!

Check my masterlist for more fun

Bradley couldn't stop smiling just thinking about you. "She's moving to San Diego for law school," he told Phoenix over a drink at the Hard Deck.

"That's awesome, Rooster! Remember how much fun we had last year when she visited for the weekend? We'll have to take her to that weird taco restaurant again where we got locked in the bathroom!" Phoenix said with a laugh. It turned out Bradley's two best friends got along great when they had met each other. 

"Yeah, well I can't wait to see her," he said as he took a sip of his drink. "It's been a long time."

Phoenix eyed him skeptically. "You think she picked San Diego State to be near you?"

"Nah. She got a scholarship." But Bradley wished you had picked the school based on him. He'd had a crush on you for over a fucking decade, since you were both at the University of Virginia. But you'd always had him firmly in the friend zone, and that was okay with him. You were beyond cool, liked to go to baseball games, could drink him under the table, and didn't put up with anyone's shit. Plus you were so gorgeous, he wasn't sure you had been talking to him the first time you met. He actually turned around to make sure there wasn't someone else behind him. 

The only time he hated being friends with you was when you were dating one of the fraternity fuckboys you always seemed to favor. He had told you so many times that you could do better, but you never listened to him. Maybe you'd meet someone better in law school. 

Phoenix shook her head. "I still think there's more going on between the two of you than what you've told me."

"No way, Nat. There's nothing between us. Never even a drunken kiss where you both go 'Eww, let's never do that again' and then avoid each other for a week."

She clicked her tongue. "Shame, that. I think she has a thing for you."

Bradley shook his head. "Nah. Definitely not."

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

You were a nervous wreck, moving from snowy Colorado to sunny San Diego to start law school. You had worked so hard for years as a paralegal, saving as much money as you could to pay for more schooling, and now it was finally happening.

And in the same city as Bradley Bradshaw, no less. What were the chances you'd end up in the same place as one of your best friends once again? You even really liked his friend Nat and couldn't wait to hang out at that fun bar again. What was it called? The Top Deck? 

You were supposed to be meeting them there as soon as you arrived tomorrow, and then Bradley promised he'd help you unpack into your new place this weekend. Just thinking about him gave you butterflies. He was so hot, and his voice could melt butter. But you'd known him for too long, and he'd seen you at your worst moments. There was no way he was even close to being interested in you. And that would just have to continue to be okay, because he really was a great friend and someone you could trust. 

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

"She should be here soon," Bradley mumbled as he peeled the label off of his beer bottle. "Should I text her again?"

Phoenix laughed and threw a dart, narrowly losing to Hangman. "Just give her a chance to get organized. It's only 7 and she's probably tired from her long drive."

"Who are you talking about?" Hangman drawled as he gathered the darts from the board.

"Rooster's friend from UVA. Remember meeting her last summer?" Phoenix asked. 

A sly smile crept along Jake's face, making him look extra punchable to Bradley. "Oh yeah, I remember. About this tall? Cute smile? Nice ass? Is she single?"

"She's not interested in you," Bradley said with an eye roll. There was no way in hell he'd let that happen in a million years. Sure, Jake was the king of all fuckboys, but you usually always went for brunettes. 

"Bradley Bradshaw!"

Bradley spun around and his entire face broke into a smile as soon as he saw you. "Hey!" he said as you launched yourself into his arms. "I've missed you."

You were pressing yourself against him and laughing next to his ear, and Bradley had to think long and hard about the most un-sexy things (his landlord, that one bathroom on base, the filthy interior of Phoenix's car) just to get through the hug without getting hard. 

"I missed you, too," you said, placing a kiss on his scarred cheek. "I was afraid you might have shaved off the mustache."

"Nope, it looks too good on me," he told you with a smirk as you eased yourself out of his arms and gave Nat a hug as well. 

"Remember me? I'm Jake," Hangman said with a charming smile. 

Bradley almost laughed out loud at your response of, "Sort of?" Then you turned back to him and demanded he get you a beer and a shot of tequila. 

"Anything you want, babe," Bradley told you.

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

He kept calling you babe just like he always did. Your heart and body were in dire straits at the moment, because every time he said it, you thought about kissing him. He had just excused himself to use the bathroom, and Nat was all over you. "Are you going to make a move on him, because he's definitely not going to go for it, even though he wants to."

You just blinked at her. "What are you talking about?"

She shook you gently. "Come on! It's obvious the two of you want to hook up with each other!"

"Did he say that to you?" you asked, suddenly very flustered.

Nat tossed her head back and groaned. "He doesn't need to say it! I know it's true regardless! Please, consider putting him out of his misery?"

And then Bradley was back, and you were still flustered. 

"What did I miss?" he asked, settling into the seat next to yours with a crooked grin. He should have looked like an idiot with the Hawaiian shirt and the mustache, but he somehow looked dashing. And now Nat had given you a glimmer of hope that maybe he'd kiss you back if you kissed him. 

"You didn't miss anything, but I'm ready for a second shot, and you're buying," you told him as you poked him in the side with your finger. "Holy shit, you're solid muscle," you muttered as Bradley caught your finger in his hand. 

"Yeah, well I kind of get paid to stay in tip top shape," he said with a chuckle before flagging down the bartender for another round. "So, you gonna tell me what's new with you? You dating a new fuckboy?"

"No," you said with an eye roll. "I'm done with fuckboys. I'm in law school now, Bradley. Gotta keep it classier. I'm going to find myself a fuckman to date."

You watched as he erupted into laughter before leaning closer to you, his brown eyes shining. "Don't let Jake hear you, or he'll be all over that."

"The blond one? No thanks," you said before taking your tequila shot. 

"Yeah, you never did go for the light hair."

"You've kept a catalog of the guys I was into?" you asked with a laugh. 

Bradley scratched the back of his neck and didn't meet your eyes. "Yeah, kinda. It always pissed me off a little bit that you never went for someone sweet."

"Oh. Well, I can't change what I like," you said with a shrug, mentally weighing the pros and cons of attempting to kiss your best friend.

"And what exactly do you like? Maybe I already know someone in San Diego that would be great for you."

You took a deep breath and went for it. "I like brown hair. And brown eyes. And stupid, cute puppy dog expressions. And sometimes mustaches and Hawaiian print shirts...." 

Bradley's mouth opened like he was going to say something, but no sounds came out. His eyes were darting between your eyes and your lips, and he was blushing a bit. Maybe Nat had been correct about him! 

"Sound like anyone you know?" you asked sweetly. 

"I..." he shook his head slightly. "Not gonna lie, babe, I think I just blacked out."

Now you were squirming a bit. "In a good way? Or a bad way....? Listen, pretend I never said that!"

"I don't wanna do that," Bradley whispered, leaning in close with intention. And then he kissed you. 

He kissed you right there at the bar, and it was so sweet and so perfect. His mustache tickled you a bit, and he rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand before releasing your lips. 

"Mmm...maybe just one more?" you asked, barely cracking your eyes open before his lips were on yours again. This time you let your fingers trace his cheek and jaw, and his hand was at the back of your head, messing up your hair. 

"You okay with this?" he asked when he paused to take a breath. 

You looked at him with wide eyes. "Is this what I've been missing out on for thirteen years?"

Bradley chuckled, cradling your chin in his large hand. "I'm kicking myself right now, babe."

You leaned in and pressed a harder kiss to his mouth before whispering, "Can we go outside or something?"

Bradley was immediately out of his seat and taking your hand in his. "Hey, Penny! I'll settle up later, okay?" 

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

Oh, shit. You were kissing his neck and sighing softly, and his dick was so hard. The cool, night air outside in the parking lot wasn't helping Bradley clear his mind at all. 

"Hmmm," you hummed as your lips landed on his chin again, and he knew there was no way he would ever recover from kissing you and then getting put back in the friend zone, but he couldn't stop. 

He roughly pushed his fingers through your hair and mashed his lips against yours until you moaned. You knew he was hard. He knew you knew he was hard. And you were rubbing your body against the front of him, making it even worse. 

"This is probably a bad idea," he grunted as you kind of wiggled yourself against him. 

"I think it's a great idea," you whispered. "Where's the Bronco?" 

Bradley tossed caution to the wind and guided you toward his truck, never taking his lips off of you the whole way there. Once you were inside, he took a few deep breaths before climbing into the driver's seat. 

"Want me to take you to my place? We can hang out for a bit," he said as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

You giggled. "Yeah, I don't have a bed yet."

"A bed?" he groaned. "You want me to take you to bed?"

"Yeah, Bradley. I really do. If you want to?"

He grunted and adjusted himself. "Yeah, I want to, babe. My dick has never been harder."

The two of you eventually stumbled into his apartment, all wandering hands and laughing smiles. 

"I really like this," Bradley said when you kissed his neck and ran your nails along his scalp. "I never thought this would be happening to me."

"I never thought you'd be into me at all," you whispered as he scooped you up into his arms. "You're so hot, Bradley. Remember when we went on that ski trip? I kept thinking about sneaking into your room at night."

"Fuck, you should have. I would have loved that," he groaned before claiming your mouth hard while he palmed your ass and carried you to the bedroom.

He was going to fuck you. He was going to fuck his best friend, and he couldn't wait. 

He set you down on his bedroom floor and froze as your hands went to his shirt buttons. He watched your fingers in the dim light from the hallway as they worked downward until his shirt was open and you were running your hands under his white tee shirt. 

You looked up at him and pulled both shirts off. 

"Holy shit," you said softly before running your hands up his torso. 

Bradley let you explore him for a moment before he reached for the hem of your shirt, and you let him take it off. He'd seen you in a bathing suit many times, but you were curvier now than you used to be. And he really liked the way you looked. All soft skin and rounded shapes. He kissed the tops of your breasts where your bra had them on display for him. 

You held his head in place as he licked down inside your bra and undid your jeans. But when he slipped his hand inside the front of your underwear, he could feel you tensing up. 

"What's wrong?" he asked you, already slightly out of breath. 

He watched your eyes dart back and forth between his as you swallowed hard. "Nothing. Keep going." 

So he hesitantly knelt in front of you and pulled your jeans down, kissing you just below your belly button. When he started to pull your underwear to the side to kiss you there, you took the tiniest step away from him, and he shot to his feet. 

"Shit, I'm sorry," he apologized as he watched you chewing on your lip, just out of his reach. "We can stop, babe." Panting, he reached for your jeans where they had come to rest at your knees and started to pull them back up. 

"Bradley," you whispered softly. 

"You don't need to feel bad about this, okay?" he promised you, gently grasping your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes. "The last thing I want to do is fuck up our friendship."

"No. I want you to keep going," you insisted, trying to force his hands to pull your jeans down again. 

He shook his head. "No way. If you're not a hundred percent sure about it, then let's stop."

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

You wanted to scream. You were so turned on by him. Even the way he was gently pulling your jeans up over your hips had you dripping wet. And the way he looked at you was almost too hot, because you knew he loved you, even if just as friends. 

If you were ever going to trust anyone, it should be him, right?

"Bradley, wait." You put your hands on his and forced him to touch your bare waist. He looked very conflicted, but you could see that he was still hard inside his pants. "It's not what you think. I really want you. It's just that... I've never been with a partner who could make me come, and sex never really feels that good for me. And I don't want you to regret sleeping with me if I don't seem into it or I don't orgasm." You winced as you shrugged.

You watched his brow scrunch up, and he wrapped his hands around you, almost possessively. "What do you mean? I'm confused."

You inched closer to him and pressed your lips together before saying, "Guys can't make me come. Like ever. I'm sure I'm the problem, since I'm clearly the common denominator here." You laughed sardonically. 

Bradley cocked his head slightly to one side, and rubbed his huge hands along your back. It felt very good.

"Can you get yourself off?" he asked, in that very low raspy voice. 

Without really meaning to, you felt yourself rubbing against the front of him again. "Yeah, I can make myself come. Just never with a partner."

Bradley shook his head slowly and grinned down at you. "Then you're not the problem, babe. And you should have listened to me when I told you to lay off those fuckboys."

You laughed and buried your face against his warm, muscled chest. He just held you for a minute before whispering, "If you'll let me, I'll try my best to make you come. And I won't get upset if you don't. But, you know, if you don't want to-"

You grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down to kiss you. He was such a great kisser; you should have done this part a long time ago. When you started gently sucking on his tongue, he broke away. "I'm gonna need a verbal response to that one, babe."

You bit your lip. "As long as you won't be upset with me, I want you to try."

And as soon as the words were out of your mouth, Bradley had his hands at the back of your bra, unclasping it and tossing it across the room. You gasped as his hands and mouth found their way to your breasts, and he had you practically screaming as he circled your nipple with his tongue. 

"Jesus, you're so sexy," he whispered against your belly as he returned to kneeling in front of you. "You look fucking hotter than ever."

You looked down at him, taking in his messy hair and flushed cheeks, and you knew right then that he would do everything he could to take care of you tonight. He slid your jeans down your legs once more and helped you step out of them. Then he shook his head reverently before removing your underwear as well. He looked up at you and groaned before placing a soft kiss on your smooth pussy. He stroked his thumb along your ribs as he stood, making you shiver.

"First, you're gonna tell me what you like best about foreplay," he informed you as he licked his lips.

"Foreplay?" you asked with a chuckle. "Guys usually just start ramming their dick inside me, or beg me for a blowjob."

"Fuck, babe," Bradley said, running his fingers along your cheek. "While I'm sure that's been very disappointing for you, it is very good news for me. Because I like foreplay. A lot."

"Oh?" you asked, and your thighs clenched together. That was a positive sign. 

"Oh yeah, so how about I give you a sampling of all my best moves? Then if you decide you want to do this again, you'll know what you like the most for next time."

"God, you're kind of cocky, Bradley. I didn't expect you to be like this," you said a little breathlessly. "I like it. So much."

He scooped you up into his arms and sat on the edge of the bed with you straddling his denim covered legs. "I just want you to feel good," he said before trailing his lips and mustache softly across your collarbone before sucking gently on the side of your neck. It felt wonderful. Then his tongue peeked out and teased you behind your ear, and you gripped his shoulders. 

You were dripping wet and trying to rub yourself on his jeans, but he was holding your hips tight and wouldn't let you. When he returned his attention back to your breasts, you cried out softly. He pulled one nipple into his mouth and teased you, releasing you with a soft pop before focusing his attention on the other. And when he started rubbing that mustache along your nipples, you were actually whining. 

"You feeling good, babe? Because I am feeling great," he said, keeping eye contact while he licked the side of your breast. 

"So good! Are you going to fuck me soon?" you asked, wondering when he was going to try to get you off with his dick. You were kind of dying to see it. 

He shook his head slowly. "No, I'm not gonna fuck you for awhile, babe," he grunted, running his knuckles along the undersides of your breasts before kissing you. His lips were persistent but not overpowering as he tasted you. You could hardly believe this was Bradley, your friend of so many years, making you feel this good. 

As his fingers trailed along your sides, you squirmed a bit on his lap, dying for some friction. "Not yet," he scolded before picking you up and practically tossing you down onto your back in the middle of the bed. You squealed as he pressed his body weight on top of you. He leaned on one forearm, giving you a great view of his bicep and kept your hips still with his other hand. God he weighed a lot, and his weight smashing you into the bed was delicious. 

The smirk on his face as he leaned in to kiss your lips was ridiculously sexy, and you slid your fingers through his wavy hair. "I can't believe I get to touch you like this," he whispered, with a grin. He kissed you softly as he toyed with your nipples, pinching them into hard peaks and then soothing them with his palm. You could tell you were dripping wet, and you were making sounds you couldn't even identify. 

You'd never been this turned on before. 

"Usually the guy would have blown his load in me by now, but you've still got your jeans on," you moaned as he moved his lips back to your neck. 

Bradley chuckled against your skin. "I was raised by a woman, babe. She taught me it should always be ladies first."

You almost jumped off the bed when you felt Bradley's fingers rubbing the top of your thigh. He nibbled on your bottom lip as he inched his hand closer to where you wanted him. You were no longer nervous that he might not be able to make you come, because your entire brain was focused on how good he was making you feel.

When his fingertip blissfully connected with your wetness, you cried out his name.

"Oh, babe. You're soaking wet," he whispered, and you watched him bring his finger to his mouth and lick it clean. 

"Mmm," he moaned before kissing your mouth so you could taste yourself on him. "I'm going to love this."

Then he was shifting down your body and wrapping his massive hands around your thighs. You propped yourself on your elbows, dying to watch what he was doing. He pulled your legs apart and settled between them, looking up at you as he kissed you pussy once. You almost cried out, but he focused his lips on your legs instead. 

"You're practically dripping," he whispered between nips to your inner thigh. "Can't wait to get that all over my mustache."

"Please, Bradley! Please! Get me all over your mustache!" You weren't above begging at this point. 

"Soon," he managed to grunt before running his tongue lazily just above your clit. You were afraid you were going to start stroking yourself soon if he didn't hurry up. You loved him for his current endeavor of trying to get you off, but you had no issues with touching yourself in front of him if you needed to. You were beyond needy and your body was craving relief. 

And then his tongue was licking your slit, and you thought you might black out. "Bradley!"

But he didn't stop. He licked up and down, over and over, slowly separating your folds and exposing you to him. "So pretty," you heard him whisper right before his lips closed around your clit.

"Oh," you gasped. Sure, you'd had guys venture down there with their lips before, but this was already better than every other guy combined. And he still had his jeans on!

Bradley swirled his tongue slowly and softly around you. And then he made eye contact with you, so you encouraged him by saying, "That feels incredible."

He released you and said, "Great, but I'm just getting started," and then proceeded to kitten lick you instead until you were squirming. You watched him dip his tongue down repeatedly, occasionally grunting or groaning as he did so.

You were mesmerized, looking down the length of your body and watching him give you head. Occasionally the light from the hallway would catch his mustache, and you could see your wetness there. Which just made you even hotter for him. 

And then he dragged the length of his tongue slowly yet firmly along your clit, and you felt your hips jerk off of the bed with a gasp. His eyes met yours as he did it a second time, and once again your body jerked in response. You gasped, and shook your head back and forth on the pillow. You felt so good and so relaxed, and you could already tell what was about to happen. One more long pull of his tongue, and you were starting to see stars at the edge of your vision. You felt yourself starting to clench around nothing. 

No way. This had never happened before. 

Then he wrapped his lips around your clit, let that tongue work some magic, and you were crying out incoherently. Pleasure washed through your limbs and soaked through your torso. You couldn't process much, but you knew your legs were shaking as Bradley sucked on your swollen bud. 

"Oh Fuck!" you screeched. "Oh my God!" You were literally riding his face through your orgasm, but instead of stopping, you could feel Bradley slide one of his fingers inside you. "Oh! What are you doing?" you asked quietly, gasping for air. You were literally scandalized and shocked that Bradley had made you come, so you could barely think.

"Gonna try for number two," he said, and when your eyes met his, the cocky look you found on his face was incorrigible. You tried to talk, but your voice broke immediately, as he worked two beautiful fingers in and out of you. He kept those fingers moving in a rhythm that was really working for you as he eased his body on top of yours. He gently kissed your lips and you moaned. He tasted like you. His mustache was wet from you. You licked his face a few times until he was moaning too. 

"You keep doing sexy shit like that, and I'm not going to last long at all."

"Bradley, you made me come!" you said through your lust-filled, hazy brain. "You going to fuck me now?" you asked, really dying to see his penis.

"Not yet, babe. Soon though." He smiled as he kissed his way down you body.

He deftly worked his fingers inside you in tandem with his mouth on your clit, and you were so close again. You couldn't believe this was your body.

"Babe, you on birth control? Or do I need to get a condom?" Bradley asked you when he took a break from eating your pussy like a professional. 

"I'm on birth control. You're good," you managed as you felt your hips starting to jerk again. 

"Can I cum inside you?" he asked, and his words had you absolutely moaning at the prospect.

"Yes!"

Bradley somehow got his jeans and boxer briefs down with just his left hand as he kept you jerking off the bed with his right. 

As soon as you got a glimpse of his dick, he was lining it up to your opening. "You're huge," you whispered and then groaned as his dick replaced his fingers. He thrust into you slowly a few times, filling you up as he tossed his head back and growled your name. Then he put his gorgeous fingers gently on your clit and kissed your mouth hard. Your hips bucked again and again as he moved his lips to your neck.

"I'm in heaven," he murmured next to your ear.

And you were coming. Again.

When your vision fully returned, you watched Bradley as he kissed your breasts while slamming into you, and soon enough, he was cumming inside you.

He collapsed against your chest, just a sweaty mess. He had worked so hard. Just for you. 

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

"How did I do?" Bradley asked between breaths as his heart rate finally started to calm down. He rubbed his nose against your tits and lifted his head to look at your face. He was pretty sure you had two orgasms before he got off, but he wanted to confirm, because he did not last long once he was inside you.

You raised a thumbs up into the air. "Good job, Bradley. Great effort. You were right, I'm not the problem."

"No more fuckboys?" he asked, placing a kiss on your collarbone.

"No more fuckboys," you confirmed as you ran your fingers gently through his hair. "In fact... you think we could do that again? Maybe like a regular thing since I'll be in San Diego now?"

"Babe, I'm taking you on a date tomorrow night. Kinda tired of being your friend, honestly. Thinking I want to make this something more. Sound good?"

You bit your lip and smiled at him. "Yeah, sounds good. I don't really want to be your friend anymore either."

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

Hope my anonymous friend enjoyed this one! Whew, this one really got away from me, clocking in at almost 5000 words! Thanks for reading!

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[crumbledcastle28]

Matt Murdock: Forget

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader (she/her)

Summary: An endless cycle of reviewing is interrupted by some much needed negligence.

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, law student Matt, law student reader, probably inaccurate law school studying, p in v sex, oral (female receiving), finger licking, with a dash of dom!reader.

A/N: Something about Matt in She-Hulk really messed with my head. Here is my first marvel fic (I can’t believe that) for my fellow INFJ and love of my life. Thank you all for your patience in my lack of updates. I hope this makes up for it.

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, reblog, or ask, it would be much appreciated <3

(I completely forget where I got this gif. Please let me know if it’s yours).

Matt’s nails scratching against the scruff of his face was not helping your focus.

Neither were the rays of the city lights against his darting dark eyes.

He leaned forward on his leather couch, squeaking the fabric against his hard body, and exhaled.

“Okay,” he breathed, staring down at his case-covered coffee table. The clock behind him shined red an ungodly hour of the night as he dragged his long, slender fingers over the braille, and exhaled again.

“We know the defendant’s breach of duty, and we know the plaintiff’s sufferance of an injury.”

You “mhmed” him along as he spoke, grateful he could not see your eyes glued to his hands gliding down the page…

…or so you thought.

“We just don’t have proof that the defendant’s breach actually caused the injury defined through proximate cause.”

You swallowed with another “mhm” and started rubbing your eyes. “Right,” you said after a moment, confirming that you heard him fully.

He sighed again and rubbed at his scruff. He was really really good at that.

“Aka the most important fucking element for a negligence case.”

He stood up at that and placed his hands on his hips. His body somehow broadened even more when he did this, and the white sleeves of his dress shirt from a day of mock court and a night of play pushed further up his forearms.

What the fuck was wrong with you?

You had a final tomorrow morning—actually this morning—and all you could think about was how much you enjoyed seeing your “study buddy” angry.

You rubbed your fingertips against your temples, trying to force yourself to fucking focus, but nothing would work. You knew nothing would work, because on any other night at this hour, the only thing on your mind would be how pretty Matt would look between your legs. Your brain had built those thoughts into your head so consistently that it became a habit. That, combined with being sleep deprived and having the man of the hour standing right in front of you, you were fucked.

Beyond fucked.

And the worst part was, you didn’t even care.

You had met Matt as an L1, first day of Civil Procedure, and something about the way his hair sat, the way his voice sounded, the way he laughed at himself, and the way he moved drew you to him like a magnet.

You had yet to leave that magnetic force, even when your trusted buffer Foggy wasn’t around. After over a year of slowly knowing Matthew Murdock, you had never loved anything else more.

Not that he knew any of that, of course.

The slap of a legal pad hitting the floor broke you from your train of thought, and Matt sat down with a huff.

You took a deep breath, centering yourself. “Why don’t we take a break?”

Matt chuckled. “A break? This entire night has been a break, Y/N.”

He was right. The two of you had gone out, much later than anticipated, and procrastinated studying to the last possible second.

And if it wasn’t for the way he said your name just then, you might have agreed.

“We’ve already been at this for two hours, Matthew,” you snapped back. “We are obviously exhausted, and like you said, we know 99% of the elements on this case. We can wake up early tomorrow, figure that out, and then take the exam afterwards. It will be fresh in our minds.”

You wanted to add and delightfully avoid staring at your stupid fucking eyes for the entirety of the night instead of the task at hand, but decided against it.

“You of all people know that that’s not how it works,” Matt replied. “Sleep is the time when the brain sorts everything together, not an hour before an exam. We need to do this tonight.”

You scoffed. “Speak for yourself. I’m going home.”

That was what made him pause, and the dimples on his cheeks disípate.

“What? You’re leaving?”

“If you’re going to sit here and panic and stress me out then yes, I’m leaving. I’m exhausted, and cramming for this won’t help.”

You stood from your seat, but Matt stood with you. Meeting you at your level, just as he always had.

“We’re in this together Y/N. You’ve said that a million fucking times.”

You breathed through your nose, continuously frustrated at his pattern of remembering seemingly everything you had ever said. “I just need to forget about this for a while, Matt. That’s all.”

With that, he made his way around the coffee table, and creased his eyebrows together fiercely. He moved closer and closer to you as he spoke.

“You think I don’t wish I could forget about this too,” he spat. “Do you honestly think I don’t want to throw all this shit out the window and spend a night with you, enjoying myself for once in my fucking life, and just forget? You think I don’t want that?”

You were frozen solid. It was unlike Matthew’s personality to raise his voice, especially around you.

He breathed rapidly, trying to regain composure.

“My whole life I’ve done what’s good, what’s right. Hell, the entire reason I’m becoming a fucking lawyer is to make things right…but there’s nothing I want less than that right now. There’s nothing I want more than to forget everything in the world but you.”

Your eyes met his unfocused ones, and you took a step closer. An unprecedented confidence overtook you, like the universe was giving you a shove, and you had no fucking clue where it was coming from.

You stood closer than you had ever been to him. Close enough to feel his hot breath on your face and his usual musk of birchwood and peppermint.

“Then forget, Matthew,” you whispered. Boldly. Making up a sexy voice that you had only heard from women in movies. “Forget with me.”

Whatever you did worked, because with one last second of rapid breathing, he slid his hands around your jaw, and attacked your mouth with his own.

Nothing could have prepared you for the addiction that was the feeling of his body against yours and his tongue in your mouth.

You immediately pulled him closer to you by his collar, kissing him so harshly your teeth clashed, and he reciprocated the motion by lifting you into the air. He backed you up into the coffee table and, with his mouth still meeting yours with a fever, single-handedly swiped every document and legal pad off the wood. You gasped as you heard the papers fly through the air and smack against the ground, but at the same time, you pressed against his crotch harder.

Something about him knowing exactly where this was going knocked every rational thought from your brain.

You moved your hands to his face and hair as he laid you down delicately and crawled over you, completely covering you with his body.

Nothing could have prepared you for that feeling either.

He moved to your neck, and his loud breathing mixed with frequent moans sent chills down your body. Your breathing matched his in volume, and you slid your hands under his shirt, desperate to feel more of him. All of him.

You smiled dreamily, already feeling completely fucked out, before asking innocently, “Do you want to taste me, Matty?”

His body shuddered at your ask, and your heart leaped to your throat.

“Please Y/N,” he groaned in your ear, “please.”

Had you ever heard him use that word before?

You chuckled. “Get on with it.”

He removed your clothes so fast you didn’t even have time to wonder why a “blind” person would know how to do that so well.

You pulled his shirt and pants off as well, but when you reached for his boxers, he politely moved your hand away.

“No,” he said softly. “If you touch me anywhere close to there I’m going to drench them.”

He giggled—giggled—at your silence, likely imagining a shocked expression etched upon you, and kissed all around your face.

“What?” he questioned. “I thought sex was about honesty.”

You laughed back. “Not necessarily brutal honesty.”

“We’re lawyers,” he countered, moving down your body with his lips.

“Not yet.”

He smiled and kissed around your stomach and hip bones, breathing deeper and slower. He was slowing himself down.

“Don’t rush me Y/N,” he whispered against your skin. “I’ve waited over a year for this.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

And then he dove in.

You were surprised your scream didn’t shatter his windows.

He mapped you out so intentionally, so thoroughly, and so unapologetically that it felt different than anything else you had ever experienced. He hit every crevice just enough to leave you wanting more before moving onto the next one, and you dug your nails into his hair to keep you tied down to earth.

“Matthew fu—fuck.”

He grinned and swirled his tongue so perfectly that the familiar rope of heat began to coil in your belly faster than you had ever had.

“I feel you. I feel you. Fuck you’re right there Y/N,” he breathed. He then moved up your body and held his fingers above your lips. You didn’t hesitate to bring them to your mouth and swirl your tongue around them, tasting a mix of his sweat and skin.

You could’ve sworn he drooled at the feeling.

You pressed a kiss to his palm before he went back to work with his fingers instead of his mouth, perfectly lathered, and when he massaged your clit just so, everything inside you imploded.

You regained feeling when Matt brushed a piece of sweaty hair from your forehead and kissed it gently.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You scratched your hands up his naked back and kissed his shoulder. “Just wait until you give me a second one.”

He didn’t laugh at that. “Are you sure?”

You held his face in your hands and rubbed your thumbs over his cheekbones. “I’m sure.”

With that, a smile so big it reached his eyes etched over his beautiful face, and he kissed you long and hard.

“Okay,” he said excitedly, and reached for his discarded pants on the floor. “Alright.”

He pulled out his wallet and tore through it with shaky hands. You laughed and took it from his hands, finding the condom almost immediately.

He couldn’t stop rubbing your body.

“Classy, Murdock.”

“When am I to not be prepared?”

You kissed his nose and dragged your hand down his stomach, tracing every ab, every scar.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you are.”

He hummed, tensing up at the word, and you kissed him softly.

One day you would make him believe it.

“You can take them off now,” he said softly, and you obliged. His cock sprung free, hitting his belly, and you felt your pupils grow almost instantly.

He laughed at your silence. “That bad?”

“Yeah,” you replied, opening the condom with your teeth. “That bad.”

He laughed again, and you slid the condom over his length. He hissed as you did this, arms shaking in restraint, and you pumped him only once.

He growled through his teeth, “Careful.”

You were never that. Not with him.

He lined himself up and kissed you softly, breathing into your mouth, and slid his right hand into yours with a loving squeeze before he entered you.

You knew about Matt’s religious affiliations. You knew how close he held that to his heart and kept his moral code in check, but you weren’t that way, had never been, and never planned to be.

But when he slid inside you and the curve of him entered you just right, you had never believed in God more.

The two of you gasped cohesively when you felt how well you fit together, and Matt stayed still, forcing himself not to instantly snap his hips back.

You squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek. “Let go Matt. I can take it.”

And did he ever.

He rocked into you so intensely you saw stars and every molecule of oxygen from your lungs escaped you. His rocks were hard and deep, touching places inside you you didn’t even know existed.

Matt’s breath was just as stolen, and with every thrust, he had something more to say.

God Y/N you’re perfect.

I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this, but how worth it it’s been.

I’m going to believe in God for the rest of my life. The rest of my life. What else could have created you?

Let’s keep doing this. Fuck let’s do this forever.

A single tear dripped down your face, and he licked it away.

“I’m almost there,” he whispered into your ear, and gave your hand another squeeze. “Tell me how to get you there.”

You swallowed. “My—touch me where you touched me before. Right there yes right there.”

You clenched around him, and he sucked in a breath.

Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead down onto you as he said, “I’m…I’m there Y/N. I’m coming.”

You exhaled, drenched in euphoria. “I am too.”

And you went together, just like you always did.

There was nothing left in your body but pleasure. No aches or pains from stress, nor pounding in your head, there was only him. Only Matthew.

He pressed his forehead against you, still inside of you, and kissed down the bridge of your nose.

“I needed that,” he mumbled. “I need you.”

You smiled and rubbed your thumb against his shaking hand, still encapsulated in your own. “I need you too.”

He pecked the side of your mouth before moving his mouth down to your breasts, kissing all around them, before ending his feast on top of your heart. He pressed a longer kiss there before fully collapsing on top of you, exhaling in an entirely different way than before.

“Fuck this test,” he whispered, and you smiled. Feeling only him.

“Fuck this test.”

Tag list:

@leahkenobi

[thatintrovertedgryffindor]

Percy Weasley was taught to make his own way. He was told he was smart and was going to go places. He was the younger brother and the older brother, that sweet spot where he had power and people behind him. He had ideas that filled his head of how to better the world and a murky path where all his dreams would come true.

Imagine Percy's anger and betrayal when he finally got the respect he deserved and his parents wrote it off as someone else's achievement. All his life, he was under Bill's or Charlie's shadow. Now, when he got to do something he enjoyed, he was mocked. It would have been fine from Fred or George or Ginny but his Father? Who worked for the Ministry and found loopholes and worked as close to the walls of his jurisdiction as he could? Was that not what Percy was doing?

The stress from getting this job and his other not-so-legal job was getting to him. He felt dizzy and angry and why was Dad telling him that it was Harry who got him this job? That's absurd. All their problems lately have been because of Harry. Dragon in the school? Harry. Ginny got kidnapped by a ghost? Harry. The rat was actually a horrible person hiding from the Law? Harry. Ron gets kidnapped by merpeople? Harry.

And Percy made it very clear. He made it clear he didn't like Harry. He made it clear that Ginny's crush on him was stupid. And he made it clear that backing Harry was the dumbest thing his family could do, but he wasn't surprised. They never made the best decisions anyway. Oh, you want to know what kind of decisions? Turning down better jobs to work for a department that was bollocks and has no reputation, Dad, that was stupid. Picking fights with wealthy contributors to the community like Lucius Malfoy. Spending money on all the wrong things and perhaps having such a huge family was the worst decision of them all.

Ron was silent and Ginny looked like she was going to bite his ear again. Fred and George were looking at him like their next prank was going to be as painful as they could make it. Mother was red in the face and pointing her soup spoon in his face but Percy didn't care. He voiced his opinions finally. He got his words in and he was proud he did so.

"Percy." His Dad stood up but kept his head down. "Get out."

Percy frowned. "What?"

"Get OUT PERCY! You are no son of mine!"

After the initial shock, Percy grit his teeth. "Fine. You don't want me? I don't want you either."

He made sure to slam the door as hard as he could behind him to make some of the paintings fall off the walls.

[eskawrites]

okay i’m officially obsessed with robin’s high school band experience (i say officially, i’ve been thinking about this for a while and now i’m finally caving and writing about it), so here are my Robin Buckley Band Geek(TM) headcanons for you to enjoy or ignore at your leisure

Robin is actually surprisingly into basketball. did you see her at that game? yeah, she’s there to shred the melody line on 25 or 6 to 4, but she’s also here cheer on/laugh at the Hawkins High team

you bet your ass she has had a crush on like half the girls’ basketball team btw

some of her first jabs at Steve were actually about some of his worst moments on the court. until she saw that those actually hit kind of hard, and then she laid off and started mocking his inability to talk to girls instead

once she and steve become friends, he’s actually surprised when she can keep up with his and lucas’s basketball chats. they ask her to practice with them exactly once, and it goes as terribly as you’d expect. but she still hangs out sometimes and gives lucas pointers when steve isn’t there

her favorite pep band song is Sweet Caroline. it just is.

sweeeet carolliiiiiiine. dun dun DUNNNNNNN

she is not supposed to be standing next to Vickie during Lucas’s game (seriously what even are their lines?? trombone trumpet clarinet? a random baritone row behind them? @ hawkins pep band wtf is going on here)

but she’s a senior and she can do what she wants

Vickie lets her, which is very cute imo

she has a vendetta with the percussion line

this is band kid law. you have to have a vendetta with either the percussion line or the trumpet section, and since she plays trumpet, she only has one option

she’s actually not bad at marching band. she has the discipline, she can think on her feet, she can focus on her steps and the angle of her trumpet and the set list and everything all at once with no issue. it takes her a while to stop stumbling over her feet freshman year, but once she has the fundamentals down, she’s absolutely fine

she took a french horn solo to state contest her junior year and actually ranked pretty high. but between the stress and the ptsd, she just didn’t have the motivation to do it again her senior year

it’s just as well. contest would’ve been after the events of spring break, and even if hawkins high had the resources to send a group of band and choir kids to contest after the “earthquake,” she definitely would’ve backed out

speaking of spring break, the first time she tries to play trumpet again after facing vecna hurts. that’s a lot of air to get through a throat that’s been nearly crushed by upside down vines. she fakes a lot of her playing for a few weeks, and by the time graduation rolls around, she’s mostly just going through the motions

it’s another thing the upside down has taken from her, and it makes her livid

Nancy absolutely understands why Robin is pulling away from band, but sometimes she thinks back on her vague memories of Robin in the bleachers--the crisp jacket, the clean white gloves, the sharp angle of her shoulders as she snaps her horn to attention--and she wishes she’d paid more attention to her back then

Will joins band his sophomore year! he wants to try something that’s just for him. he asks Robin for advice and she tells him how to get on the director’s good side as well as which kids to avoid. she also tells him that if he joins percussion she’ll never forgive him.

i think he’d play sax personally--lots of melody, great for solos, but also not the center of attention and really good at blending in

Robin finds herself going to a lot of hawkins high games during her gap year, which is completely unexpected but also a lot of fun. she and Steve sit in the stands and cheer Will and Lucas on in equal measure

(Will being there for all of Lucas’s games, too <3 it’s what he deservessss)

Robin’s parents are broke and she never ever spends any of her money on herself, so she doesn’t actually own any of the instruments she’s played. which means after high school, she has no access to any of it even if she wanted to keep playing

Nancy, Steve, and all the kids pitch in to get her a really nice trumpet a couple years after high school. we’re talking King brand, silk-lined case, the works. she cherishes that thing like it’s the fucking crown jewels

if/when Robin goes to college, she won’t join band but she’ll befriend a lot of the band kids. they’ll find out she used to play a couple different brass instruments and encourage her to pick it up again, even if it’s just in her free time

she does, and she joins some small groups--not class related, just having fun and performing with her friends

(steve goes to every single performance, even if it’s not even a show or anything. he’s been known to sit in on practices and grin at her with the proudest, dorkiest look on his face)

(Nancy also goes to every performance she can. she surprises Robin once, flying in at the last minute to go to one of her concerts. she shows up with a bouquet of flowers and it takes all of Robin’s willpower not to fall to her knees and propose right there)