#and how tragic these two fuckers are

[kunikidamybeloved]

soukoku but 'promise' and 'eren' by jann

chuuya as 'promise'

You tear me apart Look how selfish you are Left me behind when I gave you my life Where are you now How am I supposed to tell them How And you promised that you wouldn't leave before me Tell me why you couldn't keep your promise

dazai as 'eren'

Hi, how'd you get inside? Why'd you cross my mind? Right now of all times Hey You know I won't let you stay You need to get away Go away

or

I, I don't want to hurt you But I'll have to If you don't leave me alone Me alone I know that you'd rather I do Something else but it's not For you to decide To decide

[theemporium]

A number 15 green-eyed mojito with Nico💚

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

15. "What would I be jealous about?”

.

“You’re staring.” 

“I’m observing.”

“If looks could kill, he would be dead.”

“Tragic.” 

“Oh my god,” Jack grumbled under his breath, shooting his captain a concerned look before shaking his head. “Remind me not to piss you off.” 

Nico rolled his eyes. “You piss me off quite often, actually.”

“I—” Jack paused, his eyes narrowing as he lightly jabbed his side with his elbow. “One, that was rude. Two, you need to calm down. You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend and you aren’t even her boyfriend. You’re just the jealous part.”

Nico scoffed, but he didn’t tear his eyes away from you. 

Because, as much as it pained him to admit, Jack was right. He was acting like a jealous boyfriend and he was fully aware of that. But it wasn’t like self-awareness couldn’t exactly stop the bitter feelings bubbling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the man openly flirt with you. 

“You know,” Jack continued, something quite like amusement in his voice. “This wouldn’t be a problem if you just grew the balls to ask her out.” 

And he hated that Jack was right again. 

The crush he had been harbouring on you was obvious to everyone with a pair of working eyes. Or at least, everyone except you. Since the day you started on the team, Nico had been all lovesick smiles and longing gazes, practically throwing himself at any social media opportunity he could just so he could spend time with you. It was a little embarrassing and pathetic, all things considered. 

But the worst part was that it had been a better part of two years and Nico had made no move to confess his feelings towards you.

Which then led to moments like now, where Nico had no real reason to feel as irritated as he was over some guy from the media team flirting with you.

“Shut up,” was all he managed to mutter out.

“This is actually really sad to watch,” Jack muttered before sighing deeply. “Just know that I’m doing this because, as your friend and alternate, I’m worried about you possibly breaking your jaw before making a move.”

Nico frowned a little. “What are you—”

But before Nico could even stop whatever stupid move Jack was going to pull, he was calling out your name and waving his hands in such an exaggerated and overly dramatic manner that Nico felt his cheeks heating up. 

“I hate you,” Nico muttered under his breath as you began making your way over.

“You’re about to hate me so much more but I know you love me,” Jack whispered back before he grinned at you, the words leaving his mouth so quick that Nico almost thought he imagined it when the younger boy said, “Nico is jealous.” 

And then, the fucker was running off and leaving a gaping Nico in the dust to deal with the consequences.

You blinked in surprise before you turned to the boy. “You’re jealous?” 

“Me? Jealous? What would I be jealous about?” Nico attempted to laugh off, but it was forced and dry and it didn’t quite land the way he wanted to when he noticed your brows furrowing in concern. “Jack is just messing about, don’t listen to him.”

“Really?” You questioned, watching as Nico quickly nodded in response. “So it has nothing to do with the fact you have spent the last fifteen minutes glaring at Thomas?” 

Nico blinked, feeling the blush spread from his cheeks to the tip of his ears. “Uh—”

“For what it’s worth, I’m not interested in him,” you said.

“Oh.” He couldn’t bring himself to care how happy he sounded, how hopeful.

“I’m interested in someone else,” you continued.

“Oh.” The disappointment was clear and heavy in his voice, inklings of the previous jealousy sinking into his response.

“You might know him,” you added, trying to bite back your smile when you watched his nose scrunch up. “He’s a hockey player, has a cute accent and pretty brown eyes. Think he might even be the captain or something.” 

Blood roared in his ears and he was pretty sure his smile was going to split his cheeks, but he didn’t care. “Really?”

“Yeah, but he’s a little blind,” you teased, almost looking a little bashful despite the unwavering confidence in your voice. “I’ve been waiting for him to ask me out but he hasn’t been catching my hints.”

“He sounds a little stupid,” Nico murmured. Maybe he would’ve felt embarrassed if his heart didn’t feel like it was about to beat out of his own chest. “But I bet he’s wondering if you’re free at seven tonight.”

“Let him know it’s a date,” you said, grinning right back at him.

.

[rileyslibrary]

Reader has a new haircut and HATES it. Can we get a little comfort from Ghost?

———————————————————————

Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks as you look into the bathroom mirror. You run your hand through your hair, trying to fix the mess, then tuck a strand behind your ear.

“Why did you do this?” You murmur to yourself, “Why?”

You were feeling adventurous; that’s why. You wanted to “shake things up a little bit,” as you explained to your hairstylist. You showed him a picture for reference, ignoring his warning that the person in the photo was wearing a wig. So he did as he was told: he cut and styled your hair, just like that picture, and it looked beautiful. However, everything vanished as soon as you showered this morning.

You take a closer look and exhale through pursed lips. As you try to tame the strands in front of your face, a a biblical tale comes to mind. The story of Samson, a man who derived his mighty strength from his hair, and Delilah, who ordered someone to cut it while he was sleeping, stripping him of his power. You were both Samson and Delilah in your own tragic way.

You close your eyes and prepare to face the world outside the bathroom: your teammates, your superiors, him.

With your head lowered, you walk towards your office, barely acknowledging those around you. Usually, you would smile and greet people passing by, but today is different. Today, you avoid eye contact, try to take as little space as as possible so you go undetected, and when someone acknowledges your presence, you mutter a barely audible “good morning.” The only time you lift your head is when you have to salute a superior, and even then, you can’t wait to be dismissed so you can go back to counting the tiles on the corridor’s floor again.

You open the door to your office and find Ghost sitting at the top of his desk, cleaning his gun. He turns his head towards the door, greets you, and then shifts his attention back to his rifle. He stays still for a moment and turns to look at you again.

“Did you—”

“Yes.”

“Nice hairc—”

“Fuck off, Ghost.”

He furrows his eyebrows and cocks his head. His gaze follows you as you walk behind your desk, sit in your chair, and open your laptop. You feel his eyes piercing through you, and you bring your hand to your forehead, attempting to cover your face while you type in your password with the other hand.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Nothing,” you reply with a sigh, “it’s nothing; I’m sorry.”

He hops off his desk and slowly walks to yours. He stands beside you, towering above you, invading your private space.

“Ghost, please go back to your desk,” you whisper.

But he doesn’t listen. He gently pushes the papers on your desk aside and sits down.

“Hey.” He calls out, tapping the desk twice with his finger. You refuse to look at him and peek at his thighs instead.

“Is this how we’re going to be today?” He asks in a soft voice.

“Leave me alone, Simon.”

He reaches out and tickles your neck with his index finger. You shrug your shoulders and grasp his hand to stop him, but he seizes the opportunity, pinches your chin with his free hand, and redirects your face towards his.

“Look at me,” he orders.

You slowly lift your gaze to meet his. He looks at you with eyes full of understanding and compassion. He slowly tilts his head and rubs your chin with his thumb.

“This office isn’t big enough for two grumpy fuckers,” he jokes, “I need you to balance me out.”

He brings his hand to the side of your face, and you press your cheek against his palm.

“I’m human,” you reply, “I get grumpy as well.”

“Of course you do,” he reassures you. “Now, mind telling me what’s going on inside that head of yours?”

“Wanna take a wild guess, Lt.?” you ask and give him a side-eye.

“Is it something that has to do with the top of your head rather than the inside?” He ponders.

“Of course, it does, you asshole!” You cry and slap his hand away. “You, too, noticed how bad it looks!”

“I never said it looked bad!” He clarifies and throws his hands up. “You came in here with a new haircut and a frown; you don’t need a degree in applied mathematics to put one and one together!”

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” you reply, crossing your arms. “What matters is that I can’t stand my reflection in the mirror.”

He huffs and removes his mask, revealing his scarred face and messy hair. Though you have seen him many times without it before, it always surprises you when he grants you access behind his facade.

“Wanna talk about bad hair?” he says, pointing to the top of his head. “I have a permanent cow lick because of this mask, for fuck’s sake.”

You chuckle. “Well, it’s your choice to wear it, Lt.”

“And it was your choice to cut yours.”

“And I deeply regret it,” you whisper, lowering your head to your lap.

He shrugs. “It’s good to have regrets, grumpy; It means you’re learning, so you can make better decisions later.”

“Yes, but what about now, Ghost? How am I going to walk around like this?” You ask and tousle your hair.

He smiles and motions for you to stand up. As you comply, he grabs your wrist and pulls you onto his lap. He wraps one arm behind your waist, the other resting on your thighs.

“I have plenty of those if you want one.” He jokes and gestures towards his mask.

“I don’t want your kitschy mask, Lt.” You chuckle and slap his chest. “I want my hair back.”

“They’ll grow back,” he comforts you, “but in the meantime, we just have to play with the cards we’ve been dealt with, yeah?”

You rest your head on his shoulder and bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

“I guess so,” you whisper.

“You’ll get used to it, love,” he murmurs, rubbing your back. “All changes take some time to get used to.”

“That or I might decide to shave them completely.” You joke.

He laughs and kisses your forehead.

“Do whatever you want to your hair—cut it, dye it, shave it—I don’t fucking care,” he says as he strokes the back of your head. “But this?” He points his index finger to your heart, “Never change this.”

———————————————————————

[yinyuedijun]

KITCHEN | excerpt

1.7k word snippet of a sakura/fem!reader/suo fic, which is a prequel to sincerity! I'm only posting this excerpt because it's context for the deranged suo fic I'm about to post on sunday. if u choose to read I hope u enjoy <3

tags for this scene: hurt/comfort, non-explicit references to physical abuse experienced by reader and child neglect experienced by sakura. set post-canon – everyone is 18-19 years old. thank you to @/cafekitsune for the divider!

Sakura had always found your relationship with Suo strange. It's unsettling for him to witness, and sometimes he feels like he'd rather not see it at all.

It isn't as if Sakura dislikes either of you (even though Suo routinely lies to him for no reason), and it isn't as if he finds you individually uncomfortable to be around. It's just that whenever you're together—and you're almost always together on their days off—Sakura finds the two of you embarrassing.

You're just so damn touchy around each other.

Sakura swears that every other couple he's seen is less openly intimate than the two of you, though theoretically you're only friends. Theoretically. In reality, anyone with eyes would doubt that. Every time Sakura glances at the two of you, you're holding onto Suo by the arm as you lean in to tell him to some private joke, or you're swatting Suo’s hand away from your face as he teases you relentlessly, or Suo’s got a hand on your lower back as he guides you around the latest poor fucker who was stupid enough to harass you—usually knocked out cold, on the ground, courtesy of said martial artist.

All this touching is already bad enough, but coupled with Suo’s habit of flirting with you for fun—an activity that he seems to treat as a bloodsport—Sakura’s about ready to run every time he has to suffer being in the same room with the two of you.

(He once did try to sneak out the backdoor of Pothos after seeing Suo wipe a crumb away from the corner of your mouth, his thumb gliding fully, sensually, and unnecessarily along your bottom lip. Tragically, Sakura was spotted by Tsugeura, who dragged him back to the table and proceeded to broadcast his embarrassment to the entire cafe. Ah—so it's one of Sakura's virtues to be private about displays of affection! he’d proclaimed.

Suo then turned to you and said, with a smile so sly that it made Sakura want to crawl underneath the table, I guess I'm not a very virtuous man around you, to which you breezily shot back, Are you virtuous around anyone? But from your expression, Sakura could tell you wanted to hide under the table too.)

He can’t wrap his mind around it, actually—how often the two of you touch each other. The affection that each movement holds. He can't imagine someone putting their hands on him the way that you put your hands on Suo. For Sakura, being touched usually entails getting punched in the jaw or kicked in the face, or having his back slapped in laughter by Umemiya, or carrying Granny on his back when she doesn't feel like walking. But all of that feels different from the ways in which you touch Suo, and the ways in which Suo touches you. Or at least Sakura guesses it feels different—he wouldn't actually know himself.

But he can think of one memory where he knows for sure it was.

It happened several months back, maybe even a year ago now. It was, for sure, before you turned eighteen. It was a quiet night, and he and Nirei were on patrol, and it was so fucking humid that if it weren't for his duties, he'd have left his uniform at home. But the symbol of the Furin jacket was too important to give up, so he suffered with it on.

The two of them ran into you while they were passing through his neighbourhood—what a funny coincidence! you said. Nirei greeted you with a smile, but stopped abruptly when he noticed you were limping. Sakura paused as well. You’re generally not clumsy to injure yourself so severely, and Suo instinctively protects you from all other threats of physical harm. It's hardwired into him in the way that it is for a human being to breathe air. But there you were, with a noticeable limp and nasty discolouration on your cheek.

“Whoa,” Sakura blurted out, “what happened to your face?”

Nirei winced. “Sakura,” he scolded, “try to be a little more tactful, won't you?” And this would normally be the kind of interaction between them that would make you laugh, but you only looked down at your ankle. Sakura wondered if it was broken or sprained. He couldn't easily tell because it was covered, and he noticed then that for some reason, you were wearing jeans—a crazy decision, given the heat.

“No, it's fine,” you eventually replied. “I was sparring with Suo, and I lost pretty badly.” You smiled at them, and it was surprisingly convincing. “I'm super out of practice, you know. Our master would be so disappointed in me.”

Sakura turned to Suo, mouth agape. He couldn't imagine a world in which Suo lacked enough control in a fight to seriously hurt his opponent without intending it—and he’d never intend to hurt you. “For real?”

Suo looked at him for a moment, neither smiling nor nodding, then looked away.

“Sakura,” he said, “do you have a compress and bandages at home? The convenience store is closed, and so’s the pharmacy. I've got some at home, but it's pretty far, and she's in a lot of pain.”

Sakura's place was at the time barren and lacking in most of the essentials for human life, but he did have an endless supply of ice, compresses, and bandages. So the four of you went up to his apartment—Nirei and Suo supporting you as you hobbled up the stairs—where they then dealt with your injuries. Nirei searched furiously for potential diagnoses for your ankle (probably a sprain) and looked up the symptoms of a concussion (you likely didn't have one), while Sakura pushed a bottle of water and numerous painkillers into your hands. He squinted at your injuries, trying to imagine which movements Suo must have used to hurt you like that.

Suo, himself, gave attention to nothing but you. He didn't respond to Nirei who kept on fretting that you should go to a hospital, nor to Sakura who said multiple times that you should change into shorts—because if you sprained your ankle, then you should probably check the rest of your leg for injuries too. He didn't even react when Sakura said your story sounded like bullshit, or when Nirei quietly asked if this was something that Bofurin could help with.

It was like the two of them weren't even there. Like the entire world was irrelevant to Suo other than you.

Sakura studied him closely, trying to suss out hints for whatever happened. He watched as Suo held an ice pack to the bruise on your face, as his fingers ghosted over your other cheek. You didn't swat his hand away, for once. Then he asked you quietly where else you were hurt, and you whispered something into his ear, as if you were telling him one of your inside jokes. But Suo grimaced instead of laughing, and Sakura thought to himself that he'd never seen Suo look so bleak before. Nor so angry.

And when Suo knelt down to wrap a compress around your ankle, telling you that things would be okay as you wiped tears from your eyes, the thought struck Sakura that Suo never acted like this when he patched up his injuries. Nor Nirei’s. Nor Kiryu’s, or Sugishita's, or Tsugeura’s.

Suo handled you in a way that he had never handled anyone else, and also in a way that Sakura would probably not have known how to do for you. Sakura had only sprained his ankle once in his life, back when he was a kid and lost constantly in fights. No one asked him where it hurt, and no one applied a compress to his injury, and he didn't cry at the time because he knew that no one would hold his face and tell him it was okay. So until that moment, Sakura had had no fucking clue you were supposed to do any of those things for an injured person. Even with the guys in Bofurin, all he ever did was throw them a compress and an ice pack before grousing at them: If you're gonna pick a fight you can't win, at least call us first.

Not exactly words to offer to someone who was crying like you were.

So Sakura did nothing, knowing that he couldn't help. You were so fragile, and Sakura was shit at handling fragile things. But Suo was good at it, so Sakura let him take care of you, and Nirei did too, relenting in his questions. He only offered to call a cab—not to take you to the hospital, but over to Suo’s.

Suo gratefully accepted.

Nirei hung back afterwards, and the two of them talked about useless crap for a little bit before Nirei finally bit the bullet.

“Did they say where they had come from, before Suo brought her here?” he asked.

“No,” Sakura replied. “Why?”

Sakura wasn't stupid. He knew very well the kind of injuries that Suo left in a sparring match, and he knew even better all the signs of an actual beating. He knew there weren't many things that Bofurin couldn't help with, in a town like Makochi. Still, he asked, and he let Nirei answer—because he didn’t want to be the one to voice it, and because he wanted to be wrong. But if Nirei said it, then it must be true, and they would have no choice but to face it.

“I'm just trying to figure out,” he said quietly, “if it was her boyfriend or her parents who’ve been hitting her.”

“Her parents,” Sakura stated, because he also knew very well the signs of a shit home life.

He’s never heard from you or Suo exactly what happened, but he's pretty sure he guessed right. You never went home after that. You started living with Suo and his master, which you constantly reminded Suo would be a temporary arrangement, and which Suo constantly reminded you could easily be made permanent. You ignored him and dropped out of school anyway. Found a job in the red light district. Started eyeing the empty apartment next to Sakura’s, asked him numerous times about rent and utilities. Sakura didn't like answering you—said over and over that it would be better for you to stay with Suo—but he told you everything anyway. He understood why you had to find your own place. He understood it because he had to do it too.

After you turned eighteen, you started making money as a hostess and moved in next door.

I hope this wasn't too weird to read out of context rip. anyway. yakuza au sequel coming up on sunday hopefully LOL

[nohoney]

Bakugou who says that the chick flicks or romantic dramas you watch are stupid but then sits down with you to watch it and gets into it too.

He just casually passes by you, poking at your cheek and his eyes glancing to the screen of your movie with flowery words used and a rising, romantic orchestra as the soundtrack. He only came by to fix himself some lunch, was gonna eat at the table and then go back to his rec room. Bakugou makes his bowl of food and decides to eat beside you on the couch.

“Katsuki, don’t leave-“ you start to chastise him.

“No crumbs and no mess, I won’t alright? Fuck, my sandwich fell apart one time on me and you freak out about messes every time.” Bakugou sighs but knows to follow rules. “What’s this movie?”

You explain that the summary is apparently about an accused crime that effects the lives of two lovers. It’s only first fifteen minutes of the movie so you’ve barely just started. He sits quietly beside you, not really pulled into these kinds of films you like, but raises his eyebrows at one scene. “Did he just write that he wants to kiss her cunt?”

Now he’s intrigued.

Bakugou is intrigued when the filthy letter is accidentally sent instead of the proper, flowery apology. He’s intrigued at the library scene of the two lovers confessing to each other. His bowl is sent down during the scene of the arrest. He’s leaned back into the couch with his lips pressed into a thin line of the panning scene of a war zone.

And at the reveal of who the actual perpetrator was, Bakugou throws his hands up in frustration, “So the fucker just gets to get away with it! And now after all that shit happened, there’s no goddamn justice!”

“Shhh!! It’s not over yet!”

When the movie ends and the credits roll, Bakugou groans at the ending. Not so much from the drama he thought he’d be bored with but from how tragic it ended up being. “I thought your movies had happy endings, what the fuck was that?”

You laugh a little and blow your nose into a tissue, having cried a little over the reveal of what happened to the lovers. “I know, that was so sad huh? Really makes you think how much they could have had.”

“Fuck that! How the hell did she decide that, what, almost ten years later that she got the wrong fucker’s face? When that cabin boy or garden boy or whatever the fuck he was had known her for so many years? And all because of a letter she shouldn’t have opened too!” Bakugou huffs over the movie ending, “But I guess the only good thing that bitch did was write the ending they should have had… I guess.”

You smile at your boyfriend, happy that he actually managed to give one of your dumb dramas a chance.

-@blaquejaguar ♡(｡- ω -)

[physalian]

I think one of the most fascinating things in fandom is the evolution of the perception of certain characters. Like how Snape went from “omg we love him tragic hero sad man” to “abusive Nice Guy fucker” as we all got older and learned more about ourselves and the quiet part stopped being so quiet.

But one little microcosm of that effect is in the Percy Jackson fandom, specifically in fanfic entertaining the idea of Percy with godhood. You have to decide what Percy’s domains will be, thereby boiling down what defines his character into one or two key traits. While those domains haven’t evolved in one specific direction, when I was younger I definitely saw more “god of heroes” “god of swordplay” “god of storms/tsunamis/cyclones” which are all interesting takes.

But as I get older I see so many more fics really hammering home that Percy would absolutely hate being a god at all—if he had to be, he’d probably pick heroes, I do still like that one. But even that one has evolved from the glory and epicness to the tragedy of these characters. Before, “god of heroes” was more, well ‘heroic’. Newer “god of heroes” interpretations emphasize the tragedy of all these kids who live such short lives. It’s like that one post on here saying how the “god of war” (not Ares) wouldn’t be some big brutish soldier, it’d be a little girl, the consequences of war, and she does not suffer the fools who’d summon her to weaponize her.

Percy, in general, at least in the fics that I’ve seen, has come to be a bit of a monument to all the kids who never could be heroes—which is why he gave up immortality in the first place. Idk if it’s us growing older with our nostalgia goggles on, writing him to represent the childhoods we lost or the innocence that’s been stolen, but Percy was a formative hero for me and I love that this fandom universally adores their protagonist, despite all its flaws.

[neoarchipelago]

Madripoor High (part 6)

A/N: this was supposed to be some miniseries but i feel like it's turning into a slow burn again... also, this is an emotional rollercosater. I gave Y/N a backstory, tragic, similar to Ghost's one.

Warnings: TRAUMA ABUSE DEATH READ UNTIL (_-_-_-_) TO AVOID IT THEN START AGAIN AT (_-_-_-_) IF YOU WANT TO AVOID IT

+ SEXUAL CONTENT

You walked through the base, the warm sun barely helping with the cold wind. Two months. You were working on this contract for two months. You were more than frustrated. You were starting to think you simply couldn't find Echo because they didn't exist at all. 

The obvious side eyes and murmuring made you want to chuckle. Not only word of the punishments from the Lieutenant spread like wildfire. The fact that you showered alone under his close watch also spread. You were aware of the little whispers. 'the lieutenant's temptation' , 'the lieutenant's bitch' or 'whore'. You probably heard 'the forbidden pussy' at some point. You could end all of these fuckers careers with a simple search of their background, the worst skeletons in their closet unburied but you honestly couldn't care less. It was a funny change from the usuals 'criminal' 'terrorist'. 

For some reason it almost made you giddy. Of course, Ghost was entirely unaware of all of this. The cadets were way too terrified to even mumble if he was in the surrounding 20 feet. You also tried to keep it to yourself, the next punishment being way more harmful for the boys than for you. Walking up to the barracks you felt surrounded. You stopped in the middle of the hallway. Looking at the boys surrounding you. 

"Well well, little ducklings away from their mommies." You smirked. 

"How about we call you mommy huh?" You heard from one. 

"Oh sorry. I have daddy issues, not mommy ones." You teased again.

"You got a big mouth for a little thing." Someone rang.

"Not only this little thing could end your reputation, your careers and your families in a blink of an eye. But I'm not at all worried. I walk through this base with no fear." You stated. 

"Maybe that's your problem. You're FUCKING full of yourself." A man spat. 

You looked at the cadet who spoke. Of course. You were perfectly prepared for such a thing. You had an excellent memory. 

"Cadet Davis. 25 years old, divorced parents both remarried, two biological brothers, one half sister and a baby half brother on the way." The boy frowned slowly paling. "You enlisted because of your bad civilian behavior, last resort to get straight in life after not only dropping out of high school for misconduct but also out of interest per your therapist's notes." You smirked, the boys eyeing each other. "Now, I know that you and your squad sneak out every Thursday you're not on duty to play cards in one of the barracks near the east wall." Now the group paled. "I know about the phones on which you watch porn while you guys jerk off all together." You said again. 

"I know. Everything. Ending you is almost boring." You finally spat. 

"What's going on here?" You heard. 

You turned to the voice smiling at Soap and Gaz as they appeared into view. The cadets stood to attention as soon as they saw them. 

"We're bonding." You teased. Soap snickered as Gaz frowned. You crossed your arms, smirking towards the cadets. "They're such adorable boys." 

"Alright. Yeah. No doubt." Gaz said, not believing it for one second. 

"Come on, let's go. Stop giving the kids attention. They'll become soft." Soap added. 

You chuckled, shaking your head before walking to them. You threw a last glare towards the squad before climbing up with the two Sergeants. Once inside you sighed, heading for the kitchen. 

"Are you alright?" You heard Gaz ask from behind.

"I'm fine." You sighed. 

"If they're giving you a hard time you have to tell us." Soap said. 

You were going to answer when a voice rose from the couch. 

"Who's giving you a hard time?" 

You froze. The sergeant's heads snapped towards the couch. You didn't need to turn. The voice. That voice that made you want to simply fall to your knees sometimes and others want to fight him. 

"No one!" You said, walking to the fridge. 

"Soap? Gaz?" He asked, standing from the couch. The two tried to look away, one rubbing the back of his head. 

"No. One." You repeated. 

Soap grinned, heading for the fridge as well. He stood next to you, eyes roaming the inside.

"I think you should tell him." He whispered, hidden by the open door of the fridge. 

"It's fine. I'm not in any danger. And he's annoying…" you whispered back. 

He snickered, making you bite your lip. You grabbed a small juice box, turning around to sit at the counter. Soap decided he wanted juice as well, but the last one being in your hand, he closed the fridge, running behind you to steal the precious liquid. 

"Hey!" You yelped. 

He laughed running out of the room. 

"JOHNNY!" You yelled. 

Gaz smirked. 

"Just get another one…" Ghost mumbled. 

"It was the last one!" You told him, clear annoyance on your face. 

Gaz laughed softly, shaking his head as he walked out of the kitchen. You groaned, turning back to the lieutenant who didn't take his eyes off of you. 

"What?" You let out. 

He simply stared intensely at you. You started to feel that little tingle in the back of the neck, that feeling of being watched by a predator. It could work. Could. If only he knew that it wasn't fear that it elicited in you. But burning fucking need. 

That, had been a brand new problem to you. Since the shower incident, you felt yourself melt a tiny bit more under his gaze. Felt yourself shiver at his raspy voice. Felt the dangerous warmth in the pit of your stomach when you heard him scold a recruit. You didn't even want to remember how you felt when you saw him spare. His strength, his body, his eyes… oh god. 

You looked away, walking to the couch. You wanted to avoid his gaze, the way it made you feel, but also wanted to hide it from him.  Hide the way he made you feel. It didn't matter much if he knew. Two things could happen. He would like it and you'd have a wonderful night, or perhaps various ones. Or he would feel uncomfortable about it and you'd simply take a step back. No. What mattered was a certain someone could not know. 

"Muñeca.." 

You looked up at the voice. Her. She couldn't know. If she did, you'd never hear the end of it. You smiled at her, Price and Alejandro right behind her. You pat the couch next to you, beckoning her to sit down. Price called the rest of the squad as you let your head fall back. 

Soap walked in, sending you a teasing smile as you shook your head. You pat the couch on the other side, the boy not hesitating to run and jump next to you. 

"God's sake Johnny…" you chuckled. 

Price had a warm smile on his face as he witnessed the scene. The room had filled up, you started to feel the obvious important news arriving. 

"Alright. Here's the brief." Price started. 

You let your head fall on Soap's shoulder, his hand rising to playful pat and or gently slap your cheek. You pushed his hand away, trying to listen to the captain. 

"Thanks to Tracker's latest Intel, we have eyes on a cartel.  Squad 141 will be heading out tomorrow for a recon mission." You frowned but didn't say anything. "It should be a few days. Until then, Laswell will be here to help you, colonel Vargas and Rudy will also remain here with the Prisoner. " 

"Cabron." She spat. 

You chuckled, playfully slapping her arm. Price chuckled as well, a darker tone to it as he eyed Valeria. Price continued, falling into more detailed information about their mission. You zoned out. For as much as you tried to avoid thinking of it, you couldn't stop. The skull face kept showing up again and again in your brain. You wondered how his hands would feel on your skin. How it would feel to trace his faded tattoos. Did he have more? You were sure he did. You wanted to search for them. His blond lashes flashed in your brain. Was his hair also blond? Was his happy trail-

"Tracker?!" Valeria snapped her fingers in front of your face. You snapped out of your very spicy daydream as you frowned. You looked up at her. 

"Are you ok muñeca?" She asked, a little frown on her face. Soap immediately jumped as well to look at you. 

"I'm… fine!" You stammered. It obviously didn't help your case, now the room was looking at you. You felt yourself blush and heat up under the scrutinizing gazes. 

"Are you sure, you look a bit red…" soap added with a worried look. You wanted to scream and hide. He wasn't helping at all. 

"I'm fine!" You said again. 

Ghost stepped closer, your heart jumping in your chest at the sight of the object of all your nasty thoughts eyeing you again. A hand touched your cheek, Soap testing your body warmth with the back of his hand. 

"Your pupils are dilated… and your heartbeat is a bit fast." He stated..

"Oh god please shut up…" you finally whined, embarrassment washing over you. "I'm fine, really, maybe got a bit sick overnight it's nothing really…" you lied. 

"Perhaps you should go over to the infirmary." Price said with a little worry in his eyes too. 

"No it's ok… thank you. I'll rest a bit." You finished with a smile. God if he knew it was simply you fantasizing about his Lieutenant. 

You avoided eye contact with everyone for the rest of the briefing, scurrying off discreetly to your room as soon as it was over.  

—

You could finally take a deep breath once the wooden door shut itself. You barely had time to take a step forward before the door opened again. You turned, falling eye to eye with deep brown orbs. You frowned, swallowing hard before turning back towards your bed. 

"Yes lieutenant ?" You asked. He stared. "You have a staring problem, Ghost." You stated. 

He crossed his arms leaning back against the door. The t-shirt he was wearing showed his arms perfectly. The sleeved tattoo almost plastered for everyone to see. 

"Now you're the one staring." 

You snapped out of the day dream. You were in fact staring. You snickered, turning back to your bed where you let yourself fall upon. You groaned into your pillow. You felt a wave of frustration splash onto a shore of exhaustion. You felt like the heavy weight you weren't aware of, finally fell on you. You turned your head to the side, staring at the wall. Should you glance at him? Was he still staring? 

The sound of the lock echoed. Heavy boots stomped on the floor, the sound growing closer before it stopped next to the bed. Your body tensed. What..

Shock filled you as you felt two arms turn you around. You laid on your back, watching the man kneel on the bed, letting himself down as well, his head on your chest. Your heart was threatening to jump out of your chest. 

"What… are you?" You questioned. 

His body flexed as the shock in your voice. You anticipated him trying to stand back up. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, one on his head. Not a word was said. You let yourself enjoy the moment. The heaviness of his body on you was making you sleepy. He had relaxed, his body reacting to the soft caresses on his head and back. 

"Who's giving you a hard time?" You heard. 

"No one…" you mumbled through sleepiness. 

He groaned a bit but didn't move. His hands caressed the skin of your waist under your shirt, slow circles that gave you goosebumps. You sighed in content. You felt the heat. The breaths. It was a blink of an eye. And he was on top of you, his head in your neck, biting and sucking softly at the skin, one hand over your breast underneath your clothes, pressing his hard cock against you. 

The feeling of him, so close yet so far, was unbearable. He teased you, clothes keeping any real contact from each other. You wanted to rip your own pants and panties off to finally let him thrust into you. 

"Simon.." you moaned. 

A low chuckle answered your whines, only making you more and more desperate. 

"So needy. Have you been craving this? Thinking about how my hands would feel against your soft skin? Have you been fantasizing about my mouth biting and marking you? Shit…" he chuckled darkly again. "You've been imagining my cock stretching your pretty little pussy, haven't you?" 

You wanted to say no. Throw some snarky comments but you couldn't. Like some spell had hit you, making you unable to be anything but submissive. 

"Of course you have… look at you. You're thinking about it right now." You frowned at his words. "You're dreaming of it…" 

Your eyes flashed open, the white ceiling staring back at you. Your heart was racing, the silence and darkness of the room enveloping you, bringing you back to reality. So now, you were having wet dreams of that asshole?! You grabbed a pillow throwing it over your face to muffle an annoyed loud groan. The fluffy thing was quickly discarded with rage. What happened? What exactly made things turn out this way? The way he had looked at you in the showers while he was manhandling some perv who had been watching you? 

The fury in his eyes, the way he barked his orders at the boys, anger obviously biting through the air. The way he had effortlessly grabbed you by the waist to pull you up and make you sit on top of the little wall. He had wanted to punish you. He had been nothing but correct with you yet you felt like some Victorian man who's been shown ankles. 

Perhaps a warm drink would help. Some tea. You threw the covers away, standing up to escape your room towards the kitchen. You tiptoed your way through the hallway, the silence and shadows only remembering you that the team was sleeping at this hour. You flipped the light switch, blinding light burning your eyes for a split second. You decided against it, only turning on the soft lamps over the kitchen counter. 

Putting some water to boil in the kettle, you browsed through the various teas the team had. One good thing about so many British men. You picked out something that sounded pretty classic with still a tint of originality. Time ticked, waiting for the water so you could make your tea, you stretched your neck, rubbing the back. Flashbacks of the night at the hotel rushed through your mind. His hand around your throat, the fear and panic in his eyes once he realized what he was doing. The flinch when you tried to pull him to you. 

Something made you wonder what happened. What was it that made him, Ghost, crumble in the past? If he had even crumbled. The kettle clicked, notifying you that it was ready. You poured the hot liquid in your mug before heading to the counter and sitting in one of the high chairs. 

Sexually tortured. Lots of things came to mind. Every single one of them sent a disgusting taste to the back of your brain. Madripoor wasn't a stranger to these things. Human trafficking and other things were unfortunately part of the world you lived in. You were clearly against it, refusing contracts from cartel's and bosses. Making sure to bombard their plans and send a message to the high table. At least, in Madripoor, it wasn't allowed. 

But him? Curiosity made you want to peek at his file. It would be easy but… a part of you didn't want to break his trust. Or at least the tiny piece of trust if he had any towards you. It was fascinating to you how this mountain of a man, a beast, a hunter on the field, could have been so close to being broken. Obviously it hadn't fully worked, and he had built himself a reputation that the high table itself was aware of. 

All of these thoughts to avoid asking yourself the real question. Why was he constantly in your mind? What was with him… that since the first encounter, when he had chased you through the warehouse and trapped you, he simply attracted you. You were worried about what this might mean, as you watched the swirl of the liquid in your cup. 

"What did that mug do to you?" 

You jumped, turning to the doorway. 

"God sake! Please put a bell around your neck…" you scolded. 

He shook his head walking to you.

"Why are you up? Not feeling good?" He asked, nodding towards the tea. 

Ah yes. You were supposed to be feeling 'sick'. You smirked, looking back at your mug. 

"I'm fine. Just couldn't sleep." You stated. "There's hot water if you want some tea." You offered after a heartbeat. He couldn't sleep either. It was obvious. Was it his nightmares?

He moved towards the kettle, grabbing a mug in the process. You watched his movements, his muscles flexing with his movements as he made himself a cup of tea. You kept your eyes on him as he walked back to sit on the chair next to you. 

"You have a staring problem." He teased, staring back at you. 

"You're the one staring at me…" you whispered. 

His eyes faltered, slight twitch of his brows. You were blatantly staring at him, a little focused look on your face as if you were trying to figure out some riddle he had dropped. He had tensed again. 

"Simon.." you started in a whisper. 

His head tilted, questioning the reasons of his name on your lips. 

"I… what happened…?" You asked. 

He blinked, once, twice, before the dreadful realization fell on him. 

"None of your fucking business." He snarked.

You sighed. 

"I know. I'm sorry… I didn't mean to intrude. You don't have to tell me anything." You let out, turning back to your mug. 

The clock on the wall ticked, filling the silence with even more tension. You sipped on your wall beverage, closing your eyes as the liquid slid down your throat. 

"Why." He asked. You turned to him, confused. "Why are you asking this? Right now." He asked again, eyes boring into your very soul. "Did… did I… was I not correct towards you?" 

You felt a cold shower rush through the fibers of every muscle in your body. 

"What? No! No." You shook your head. "Simon. You've been… very correct with me. You haven't overstepped, or made me uncomfortable. It's fine." You reassured him. 

He took a deep breath, his broad shoulders rising before slumping back. 

"Why are you so worried that you'll overstep?" You asked in a low voice. 

He watched you carefully. He didn't trust you enough to say that. Not enough to tell you the truth. And you understood that. 

"You haven't." You caught his attention again, giving up on finding answers. "You've been a gentleman, apart from being annoying." You chuckled with a teasing smile. "And I… promise that if I ever feel uncomfortable, I'll be honest with you and give you a heads up." You finished with a soft smile. 

He nodded after a second of pondering. 

"You call Soap Johnny." He let out. 

You rolled your eyes with a little chuckle. 

"Are you jealous?" You teased. 

"No. But he doesn't let just anyone call him that." He explained. 

You were surprised by the revelation. Slightly taken aback by the confession that Soap had let you be a special person to him. 

"He reminds me… of my little brother." You whispered, looking at the wall. 

Ghost remained quiet. He sipped on his tea, waiting for you to either keep talking and explain or simply change the subject. 

"You're not going to ask…?" You questioned. 

"I haven't answered any of your questions. I don't deserve asking you some." He explained in a soft tone. 

"You deserve to ask them. It is, however, up to me to answer them, or not, like you did." You smiled at him. 

"I'm not really into… family talk." He answered honestly as he winced. 

"Don't worry." You whispered, his head turning towards you. "Me neither…" you said, trying to hide the sting of pain from being too obvious. 

But he noticed. Of course he did. He nodded, his hand raising to pat your head softly before turning back to his tea. It made you huff a laugh. You sipped your tea again before turning back to him. 

"How did you become Ghost?" You asked. He closed his eyes, groaning. "Too close…?" You asked. He didn't answer. "Sorry. I think I'll just shut up." You chuckled. 

"How did you become Tracker?"

You froze as the cup was barely inches from your lips. It hit close too. Way too close for comfort. Did you want to tell him? The amount of people who knew the truth could be counted on the fingers of a single hand. 

"Too close?" He asked. 

You took a deep breath, putting down the cup on the counter, eyes staring at it, as if it'd help you through the dilemma. Telling him the truth. Do you trust him? Yes. Enough to talk about it? Perhaps it would help him unravel himself to you. He had started saying something when you cut him. 

(_-_-_-_)

"My father was the type of man who loved the bottle more than his kids." You started. Simon immediately remained quiet, watching you. 

Deciding on avoiding his gaze, you let yourself get lost in the brown liquid of the mug as the flashbacks and memories rushed back in. "It was always hard. The abuse. I tried my best to stand in the middle of him and my mother and siblings. I mostly managed." 

You snickered to yourself bittersweetly. 

"But things didn't get better. I was almost 17. I was out with some friends. He had been out for two days, we had no news. I didn't know." 

"Y/N-" he started. But it was as if you couldn't hear him anymore. Words overspilling. 

"He had decided that he wasn't happy. And that if he couldn't be happy, no one else could. I got home, probably… twenty minutes after he did. And, he had enough time to.." 

You frowned, feelings bubbling up in your throat the more you spoke. Simon scooted closer with his high chair, legs spread as your chair rested in between. You still avoided his gaze. 

"He had killed them all. My mother, my sister and her husband. Their two kids. My little brother…" Your voice lowered. Tears swelling at the corner of your eyes. "He tried to kill me on sight. While I was in shock of seeing my family murdered on the living room floor. Blood everywhere. So… long story short. The neighbors had already called the cops, they arrived as we were fighting outside in the lawn. I ended up stabbing him repeatedly." You took a long sip from the tea, trying to calm the raging burn in your throat from holding back the tears. 

"On that night, at the police station, the social workers arrived and talked to the cops. I overheard them talking. How I was already old and almost an adult. That no foster homes would want a kid who killed someone. That I needed psychiatric help. And families would still refuse to take me in." 

You finally turned to him, trying a small smile. You felt your heart skip a beat as he eyed you intensely. It was hard to understand what his eyes conveyed. 

"So, I ran off. I used the moment where the window was unattended. They were too busy. So I hopped out and ran. Managed to get into my house in the upstairs bedroom even while the cops were there. Took some stuff, my laptop mostly. And I ran." You sighed. "This story is taking forever…" you laughed a bit, trying to lie to yourself that these emotions, this trauma wasn't affecting you anymore.

(_-_-_-_ bad childhood daddy issues, family dead) 

"So, I stayed in the streets for a few months, coffee shops would give me wifi and I already had some basis on hacking. Made sure to steal money from bank accounts to buy food and stuff like that. Some cartel boss eventually heard of me and offered me a deal. I accepted, became known over the years as I got better and better. The high table of Madripoor decided to bring me on their side once my… talent was widely known." You smacked your lips together, looking away. 

"There it is. The story of Tracker…" you whispered in a sarcastic, tasteless voice. 

He leaned forward as you turned to him, his forehead touching yours as your eyes opened wide. A little soothing gesture. 

"You did good." He whispered.

It was three simple words. No special tone, no actual praise. But it made the tears fall. You tried to catch your breath as he froze. You shook your head, cracking a smile as you closed your eyes. 

"I'm ok… I'm ok." You sniffled, leaning back. 

You opened your eyes, brushing away the tears with your fingers. 

"It's ok." He said. 

You smiled even more, nodding softly. His hand had someone ended up on the small of your back, his thumb drawing slow circles. You closed your eyes at the sensation. It was reassuring. Calming. When you opened your eyes, he tilted his head, eyeing you with curiosity. 

"You ok?" He asked. 

"Yeah… just… your fingers-" 

He stilled. Realizing his action. His hand flew off like your skin was a scorching braze. 

"Shit… sorry…" he was ready to stand when you put your hand on his chest. 

"Simon. It's fine. It was a soft gesture. I saw no harm in it. Breathe…" you reassured. 

His eyes stuck to yours, he tried to even his breath. 

"You look… so ok. With my touch." He said. 

"Hmm…" you started. "Well. Your touch is nothing inappropriate. It's soothing so I don't mind." You explained. "I mean… you've had me naked in your arms" you teased. 

He straightened his neck at the thought, making the heat rush to your cheeks. 

"It's fine Simon…" you repeated. 

"You wouldn't be fine if you knew the whole truth… you wouldn't want me to touch you." He hissed, anger biting at himself more than you. 

You sighed, scooting your chair even closer, forcing him to spread his legs even wider. His eyes were fixating on you, burning through your skin, his body as stiff as stone. You let your head slowly fall to his chest, forcing him to straighten himself and hold you so you wouldn't slip and fall off your chair. You could hear his heart stammering against his rib cage. 

"Maybe. But right now. After knowing you for a few months, I trust you. And I don't mind your touch at all." You whispered. 

"You're insane…" he whispered back. 

"Without a single doubt…" you chuckled under your breath. 

You remained like this for a little while. You could feel his heart calming down. You were falling asleep at the sound of his steady heartbeat. He realized it as your body felt slightly heavier in his arms. He shifted quickly, picking you up bridal style. Your eyes snapped open at the sudden shift. Looking at him. 

"You're ok." He simply said. 

You sighed, letting your head against his shoulder. He walked to your door, opening it before walking in, heading to your bed. He slowly dropped you down, letting you settle in bed comfortably. The way he watched you, standing over the bed, it made you feel… surprisingly secure. You threw him a sleepy smile as he softly brushed a hair strand away from your face. After a long minute, he walked away, closing the door softly behind him. 

Your eyes were closing on their own, the image of him lulling you to sleep. 

—

The next morning, you woke up to silence. You opened your eyes, fighting the need to keep them close as the light shone through the window. You sighed, getting up and throwing some sweatpants and a t-shirt on before stepping out into the hallway. The eerie feeling of the empty place felt heavy on you. You walked to the kitchen, looking around. No one. You sat at the counter, noticing a small paper. 

'out on mission, be back soon, Alejandro and Rudy are still on base if you need anything! -squad 141' 

You smiled. It was obviously soap's handwriting, and the thought warmed your heart. You frowned. You felt… lonely. It wasn't something unusual for you. Even in Madripoor, walking through town or resting on the large couch in your living room, you felt lonely. This kind of loneliness however. You hadn't felt it in a while. The one you felt on that night. You shook your head. It was silly. Nonsense. Something however, screamed in the back of your mind, that the relationship you were creating with this team was getting concerning. Dangerous… it wouldn't end well. 

Getting attached to them, it could be a terrible mistake. And you could feel it. That it was getting way too close for comfort. Lying to yourself, however, sounded like a much better solution. 

You took a deep breath, looking up at the kitchen counters. Breakfast. And then. Work. 

—

It was late. Around four in the morning. You rubbed your eyes as they started to get blurry from the screen light in the dark conference room. You stretched, checking the time a last time, settling your mind on packing your things and going back to the barracks to get some sleep. 

The base seemed to be asleep, the few soldiers patrolling around being the only noise you could hear. You walked through the hallways, your backpack on your back, already dreaming about the warmth of your bed. The tingling feeling at the back of your neck however, warned you that someone… was clearly watching you. It was becoming even clearer that they were following you. You sighed, taking sharper turns into darker alleys. You tiptoed your way into a warehouse, jumping on some iron ladder to make your way up to the first balcony on top. You slowly made your way to a little hideout, perfect for you to see, without being seen. You waited, watching the entrance. 

Three shadows made their way in, looking around. You easily recognized three of the men from squad 8. You shook your head slowly. Idiots. Observing the three as they looked for you, you let your head fall against the wall behind you. You were tired. You didn't need this right now. A part of your brain kept watch over the boys as they walked back to the entrance, the other was drowning in sleepy thoughts. Finally alone in the warehouse, you remained sitting on the ground, against the wall. You waited to make sure they were gone. But your eyelids keep closing themselves, as you battled and battled but allowed them to remain closed a little while longer each time. 

—

It was the rough sound of the warehouse door being rolled open that made you jolt awake. Your heart pounding, you took in your surroundings. A team had walked in, taking their gear as they were briefing each other on the next training. You looked around, noticing how the sun was already shining through the door. 

"Shit.." you mumbled. 

You rose to your feet, feeling the ache in your body from the very uncomfortable sleepy spot. You groaned, making your way to the ladder. You climbed down, jumping down the last few steps, the sound of your shoes echoing. The attention of the team was brought upon you as you simply nodded their way with a 'good morning'. You walked out into the sun. The warmth of it did nothing to help the exhaustion from your body. 

Unfortunately, the same thing occured again and again. You found yourself having to avoid certain spots, certain people. At some point after a few nights, you realized that they weren't afraid to enter the barracks, making your own room unsafe. You had to find a way to sleep somewhere, in different spots every night. You decided to keep it to yourself, not wanting to bother Alejandro and Rudy who probably had a lot to deal with already. Frustration was starting to grow to an impossible level. The bad sleep, it kept you on edge. 

It had been almost two weeks when you decided that enough was enough. You decided that if they wanted to act like idiots, and come after you, then you'd treat them like that. You spent a full day preparing a little forgotten room, adding the perfect illegal things in it. It was used as some 'throw everything in' room. It was therefore quite easy to drop some things. Drugs, confidential files you had… found… laying around. 

That night, you made sure to stay extra late, working on your laptop before making your way to the room, the boys obviously following you. You grinned, stepping into the room before quickly running to your hiding spot. As the three boys walked in behind you, you immediately texted Laswell. 

You waited. Patiently, watching the three search around the various crates, boxes and old furniture, coating their hands in the various substances you had flung around the room. When Laswell arrived she was closely followed by Alejandro and a few men. You didn't exactly pay attention to what was going on as they interrogated the recruits, or when they were dragged out. You sighed, swiftly getting out of your hiding place to walk out the door. You made sure to be far enough from the big group, walking away. 

It was a good start. It wouldn't make them stop. But it'd help. You let yourself lean back against a humvee, crossing your arms. You waited, until you saw his frame. 

"Colonel…" you greeted. 

"Tracker." He greeted back. 

He looked at you, frowning. Even under the dim light of the courtyard, it was clear to see how tired you were. You had been in a worse state. But this wasn't that kind of mission. 

"Everything alright princesa?" 

You smiled at the nickname. 

"I'm… tired." You answered honestly. 

He frowned, taking a few seconds to think before he looked at you. 

"This… was you?" He asked. You nodded. "Why?". You didn't have time to answer. "They bothered you? Pendejos." 

You smirked to yourself. It was incredibly obvious how similar Valeria was to him. 

"I'm fine. It was just slightly annoying. They've been distracting me from my work…" you said. 

"Come on. You'll sleep with us tonight." 

He nodded towards a building before starting to walk, leaving no room for discussion. 

—

You were glad to be able to sleep near the vaqueros. Valeria was in a cell nearby. You had spent a very calm night, waking up quite late. Rudy had very kindly offered you his room. Unfortunately, you couldn't just spend the entire time in Rudy's room. You talked to them, including Laswell, offering for them to move into the squad's barracks. They were skeptical, especially towards letting Valeria into anything else than a cell. You assured them that Valeria wouldn't be a problem, warning her that if she didn't behave, you'd hunt her down yourself. 

She had pouted, angrily cursing at the vaqueros. Eventually, they had moved into the barracks, and you were glad to be back to your little room. You could finally rest a bit, without constantly having to watch your six. On the other side you felt like you missed the team. You missed hearing Soap and Gaz laughing together, Price talking and the smell of his cigars. But you also missed him. All of that combined with the fact that you seemed stuck in your current search was starting to feel like too much. 

You sat on the ground, the laptop on the coffee table looking at you mockingly. 

"What's wrong muñeca?" Valeria asked. 

"I'm… frustrated. I can't find anything about 'snake'. Obviously that guy is keeping Echo's identity secret like some kind of fucking bodyguard. I can't find anything that could identify it. Nowhere, in all of the underground, can I find a single clue on 'snake'..." You vented. 

You groaned, letting your head fall into your hands. Rudy sat nearby, the poor boy on babysitting duty as Alejandro was with Laswell for the day. You heard some commotion, looking up. 

"VALERIA!" You yelled. 

The woman had knocked out the poor man, hovering over his unconscious body. 

"Calm down… he's sleeping." 

"Why did you do that?!" You scolded. 

"I wanted to offer you tequila. He wouldn't have agreed." She shrugged, walking to one of the cupboards. 

"You didn't even try asking him!" You angrily said. 

She shrugged again, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the cupboard before walking to you. She closed the laptop, putting it aside as she opened the bottle. 

"You need to breathe a bit" she teased with a wink. 

You shook your head, bewildered. It was an obvious Valeria move. You watched as she stood again grabbing a chair before lifting Rudy to sit on it. She then handcuffed him, making sure that he wouldn't escape. 

"Valeria…" you scolded. 

"He's fine! Come on." She sat back next to you after grabbing two cups. 

You watched as she poured the liquid into them. Maybe… you did need to relax a bit. 

But as per habit. Every Valeria move would end up in some kind of chaos.

-----

tags:

@thychuvaluswife  @emily-roberts  @warrior-of-justice  @gh0stedddd  @ladyelissarose

@kiruoris  @kaeyamain-zonglilover  @salsa-reads-stuff  @coacaiyne @hufflepuff-hugz 

[fullcoffeemoon-nem]

Second part seasons' Theory

Timeline Theory here

Second update: 06-03-24

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

Hi there!

The LVL UP gave us a new trailer full of expectations, as well as a preview of Stolas and Blitz's song from Full Moon.

Here are some considerations which, admittedly, may contain annoying spoilers.

YOU ARE WARNED!

I've scaled this analysis down to share one thing in particular about a X's post.

So now is almost confirm the chronology: Full Moon set on September 29th 2023.

There was a verbal clash between Blitz and Stolas, both are right and both are right.

The way I think:

Stolas has reached the limit and, accustomed to a situation in which other people's feelings have always been clear to him, he demanded an answer. Yes or no. He had already decided how to behave because he always assumed that Blitz didn't have masks.

Blitz, on the other hand, was raised in a context of manipulation, where the only certain thing was that his name was enough. He doesn't believe in the possibility of being loved for two reasons:

1. They keep repeating that wherever he goes, he only hurts

2. He doesn't believe himself enough to be

The two reactions were therefore: Stolas "I am not enough, therefore I am abandoned" and Blitz "I am abandoned because I am not enough".

I think we need to really find out what happened to Blitz's mother to find out more, but Applogy Tour could also start to clarify this story.

The song Is magnificent!

Apology Tour may be scheduled for October 31st, Halloween. There seems to be a party, that both Verosika and Stolas attend. Blitz will have to face both and will take the hit heavily. Did he get into the hole following Stols or did he end up there by chance?

The scene where all of Stolas' memories of Blitz are broken could have two meanings:

Rejection

Remorse

Ghost Fuckers should be specifically about Millie and Blitz and delve deeper into the latter's story.

Surely, you will have seen some boards with drawings of a ghost, Millie and Moxxie hanging from a chandelier and Blitz running to save them with Loona.

Not familiar to you? I hate to admit it, but I think those boards weren't fanmad...

Mistermaind will be a real bomb:

We have already seen the Angels and Agents, but it definitely doesn't end there. Their army of bishops has yet to be mobilized. The situation is so tragic that it sees to forced I.M.P to flee or even abandon someone…

We also see some new memories from Blitz, specifically:

A scene with his mother

Cash Buzko taking him away from the crashed Fizz (Here's the “them” of Oops?)

Here or on Applogy Tour.

Finally Sinsmas, obviously set in December. Here too, an incredible load of characters: The Goetia with Vassago (Parrot Boy on X), Andrealphus, Mammon and Satan.

They are probably also in Lucifer's palace.

There were also sad leaks for this episode: Via's song and the final confrontation with her father, who seems to have taken a holiday… Is it Blitz's fault?

I need to recover and at the same time the new episode...

[mantequillamcwhoremick]

kenny for the ask meme 🧡

Fantastic. Let's get the most important one out of the way🧡🧡 The silliest little booger🫶🫶🫶

Favorite thing about them:

Two things; his unwavering kindness and his immortality.

I love how kind and sweet and charitable he has remained despite, or maybe because of, all the horrors that he's been through. He could've become a cynical asshole and I wouldn't blame him, but instead he dedicated his time caring for his sister, become a symbol of hope for South Park and become a philanthropist once he became rich enough to afford it.

His immortality is just a dope fucking concept and I have so many different AUs and stories in progress where it's the centered topic. It just fascinates me i love it

Least favorite thing about them:

Literally nothing. I love all his ugly ass booger attributes. Even his stupid ass hair dryer side profile. Maybe I hate that he doesn't have enough episodes where he's the main character

Favorite Line:

"Yeah, people don't even care if shit's dumped everywhere. Everyone just loves technology."

"Sometimes, people do stupid things. Sometimes they don't realize what should have come first. Until it's too late."

(Sorry I couldn't pick just one. He's my favorite little guy.)

BrOTP:

Kenny & Kyle >:))) their friendship is SO unexplored even though they have so much canon potential. The fact that Kenny went to Kyle to get his help as Mysterion "because I think you are the smartest kid in class" is so telling for how much he respects Kyle. Then also that Kyle is the one to initiate Kenny's cheesing intervention in the major boobage episode speaks for how Kyle cares for him. And the "I can't die" "It's not pretty cool, Kyle, it fucking hurts!" conversation is so juicy and full of interesting conflict potential. Maybe that's why K2 are the dynamic that receives arguably the most attention in my fic🫶

Also Kenny & Tweek. SO MUCH untapped potential in that dynamic.

And Kenny & Cartman!!! They're such interesting foils in every way, the "fat ugly mean kid and the detached loner poor kid", both the poorest kids at their schools and both with a fascinating dynamic with Butters. They're best friends and rivals, they're each other's biggest haters and somehow have a soft spot for each other too.

OTP:

Kenny and Butters. I'm not gonna elaborate because I'd be sitting here all day but if I could summarize it I'd point you to Mysterion vs Chaos, the fact that Paladin Butters had a canon crush on princess Kenny in TSOT, their canon sugar daddy/baby dynamic in post covid when Butters literally scammed everyone else in his path, and the fact that I love tragic characters finding joy and wonder in each other.

nOTP:

Can't really say any bc Kenny has interesting dynamics with everyone lol but if I have to name popular romantic ships that I just don't see I'd name Crenny and Stenny shjshsk SORRY

Random Headcanon:

He loves food and eats FAST like a starving animal (licking his fingers afterwards and everything) he's not exactly the kid your mom would love for his dinner table manners

Unpopular Opinion:

He isn't suave or handsome. IRKS me when he's a big ladies' man in fics. He's stinky and not an overly smooth flirt; any attention he gets from girls is because he's genuinely kind and sweet

Song I associate with them:

Favorite Picture of Them:

He's such a wannabe mysterious little fucker

[three--rings]

4 Minutes episode 8

Non-spoilery conclusion: this show was flawed but I did enjoy it and I want to see more from everyone involved, you know?

So we're in the reality where Tyme is a caring doctor?

And where he is a good boyfriend even when breaking up...

I'm sorry but doctor/patient to dating is super uncomfortable. Like I get this is the fuzzy version of events but IDK gives me the ick.

Akira! My favorite actor in the show!

Okay toxic yaoi threesome I guess.

Wait tell me they didn't go back to Tonkla house, right? Are you fuckers at home when there's a manhunt?

Well, yeah, okay that clusterfuck was always gonna end badly. And honestly? I fuck with that kind of tragic doomed love between flawed people.

Okay making merits for the guy who shot you? Did Great know about their relationship?

Ah yeah I figured the money exchange was a setup.

Okay, okay. So...ultimately, I think the show was a valiant attempt at doing something different and being a really twisty mystery, but it could have used a rewrite, and probably more episodes.

Like, I really think rushing through the resolution in this episode is a mistep because it skips over the actual resolution of Tyme and Great's relationship, the actual love confession and getting together. Like, that's the MONEY SHOT of the romance and we don't really get it. Like, sure we got to see their 4 minutes versions of their relationship, but they didn't, and we didn't get to see them reunite and work it out.

I get from a writing standpoint, that's a very hard thing to write, especially in a snappy manner, which is why the easy choice is to skip it, but you're denying the audience the emotional payoff. And also sorta denying the really messy version of their relationship they had by only presenting us with a sanitized honeymoon version at the end. Like what I really want is seeing that hard work of these two flawed and hurt people getting over it and accepting each other for REAL.

Yeah what I really want is the fanfic of this show I think.

Other big missteps are how confusing a lot of the out-of-order stuff was with the Tonkla plot, though I ultimately got that.

And most of all, the lack of real characterization of Great up until we get the real version of his story. He just felt flat and blank until then, and I get WHY and I don't know how to better resolve that while still getting the "oh shit it wasn't real" reveal. But like...IDK.

This show very much feels like an experiment that was worthy and had a lot of hard work put into it but didn't quite land.

I really think the actors all did great and the filming and everything was excellent, so I hope we continue to get good stuff from BOC. I also really like Bible and Jes individually and think they're both super talented, but I'm not entirely convinced by the chemistry... IDK.

[oursisthetear]

my thoughts about eunjoo, changjun, that ass of a principal and the whole scandal (heavily spoilerish and heavily hypothetical text ahead, you've been warned)

hwan found his father's high school box and was obviously interested in the cassettes but don't let this distract you from something really sus: of course there were only the cassettes even numbered (the odd ones must have been written by changjun so they belonged to eunjoo) but there were also a cute custom keychain with a teddybear picture and a single baby shoe.

now, we know changjun must have time travelled a lot and messed up his memories etc and we know eunjoo was severly depressed; that fucker of a principal kept telling everybody that eunjoo was having inappropriate conduct (and i don't believe it in the slightest) and that she falsely accused changjun of raping her (which i don't believe again since they were in love, jooan's father told cein that eunjoo was a good person and so the whole -he rejected her and she made up accusations for revenge- makes zero sense)

we have seen a flashback of eunjoo talking in a very distressed way while that awful man of a principal creepily caresses her face and this fucker also keeps telling hwan about how much his father had to forget things focusing only on his studies bla bla

my conclusion after all this mess is that the "scandal" was that eunjoo and changjun were actually a couple and they were going to have a baby; i don't know how the fucking principal managed to manipulate changjun but this must have brought to two possible outcomes: 1) eunjoo was forced to abort, 2) the baby is hwan

option 1 is far more tragic but also ic for that fucker of a principal while option 2 sounds weird, i know, but it would explain why changjun couldn't stand his wife and tries to erase everything about her (my bet is that this wife who had to raise hwan like he was her son was brought to changjun by none other than that ass of a principal), (it would also make hwan and cein brother ;;;;) - it's just so weird to me how they had to make them have this conversation that sounded like

hwan: omg you look SO much like your mother!!

cein: aww thank you, you're the spitting image of your father instead

hwan: i know, i look nothing like my mother!!

you could tell me that maybe it's cein who is their son then but hwan is older than cein so it would make sense if he was the first son of changjun; hwan was taken away from eunjoo and no wonder she developed a severe depression, right? no idea about how she ended up with cein's father instead but it's clear it wasn't a marriage of love, hmmmm so yeah, in the end of the day it's always that fuckass principal's fault

hopefully season 2 gets released in 2025 to put an end to this madness brought to you by my mind wandering lmao

[muddyorbsblr]

i have never

See the full 14 Days Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: When you reveal to your co-stars that you've never had a positive experience kissing anyone, let alone a good experience doing more than kissing, Tom visits you in your hotel room to rectify that situation.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: steamy moments (this is 1 of the 2 non-smut stories from this collection); language; mention of bleeding

Things to be aware of: coworkers to lovers; reader isn't inexperienced but she's had horrendous experience

"Okay I might need help with this, I gotta be honest."

You showed the page that you placed a little pink post-it flag on to your female co-stars, Scarlett and Lizzie, the flag pointing to the part of the script that showed your character had to kiss Loki and a look of 'contentment and relief' had to be visible on your face.

"Wait why? You've had kissing scenes before," Lizzie prodded, looking at the surrounding dialogue of the kiss.

"Yeah, I know, but those kisses were meant to be awkward and I had to be visibly uncomfortable, which is great because that's all I know how to be when a guy kisses me." You grimaced as memories of sloppy, teeth-knocking, way too rough kisses gone wrong began to flash through your mind like a train wreck slideshow.

"Oh sweetie…if you're worried that it's gonna be bad because Tom's going to make it uncomfortable, you got nothing to worry about," Scarlett commented with a chuckle. "Man's never had a bad kiss scene in his life. Ask Lizzie."

"Mmhmm. Yup. Can confirm," the redhead said with a playful grin on her face.

"Well that's all well and good but I'm not worried about him giving me a bad kiss. I'm worried that I will." You slumped your shoulders as they gave you doubtful looks. "Alright then let me put it this way. All the kisses I've had off camera are…fucking awful. On camera I can look past because it's supposed to be awkward and dorky and maybe even so cringe I wouldn't wanna watch it even if you paid me. But the guys I've kissed in private? Let's just say that the least traumatizing kiss I've had ended with my lip bleeding because the fucker bit me too hard."

"Babes, that's absolutely awful!" Lizzie looked at you with her jaw to the floor. "Are you telling us that every guy you've slept with is—"

"Fucking awful? Yep. They didn't have any redeeming qualities. And before you even ask, yes, that means that I have fucking faked it. For years. No one's ever got me to the promised land." You slumped in your chair from the admission. "So that's why I need help. I haven't the first idea how to even look like I'm content because every experience I've ever had is…subpar."

The two promised to help you until you three were called to set, imparting knowledge about imagining a wave of calm overtaking you coupled with the contradicting feeling of a wild fluttering in your stomach. Actions-wise, to pull him closer, as if you couldn't possibly be close enough, clinging to him as if your life depended on it. And the desperation that implied this was a last kiss, because ultimately it would be for your characters, considering the tragic death the Russo brothers had in mind for Loki.

It'd also be the first and last kiss you'd have with the man you'd had a raging crush on since years before you were even a blip on Marvel's radar, so you took all their advice to heart just to make sure that at the very least you didn't leave a horrible impression with him once this scene was over.

After all, you still had all of promo period to get through and considering that the Marketing team had already found your old socials from high school and had concrete evidence that you absolutely had a phase where you shamelessly fangirled over Tom Hiddleston, they would most likely test your sanity and pair you off with him for some, if not most, of the press junkets.

That was the whole reason you were currently in one of the dining tents, your head slumped down on a table as you watched a whole bunch of kissing scenes on YouTube while you furiously jotted down notes on the back of your script. Your scenes were finished for the day, and all you had to do was wait for someone in the costume department to assist you out of your costume. You retrieved your phone from security, meaning you were no longer allowed on any of the filming sets considering how careful all the execs were about spoilers getting out.

"Elizabeth told me I'd likely find you here." You jumped in your seat at the dulcet tone of Tom's voice filling the former quiet of the tent, quickly straightening your posture and turning your phone off, putting the face down on top of your notes. "Apologies. I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no, it's all good, really," you chuckled out, the nerves beginning to peek through in your shaky tone. It was borderline impossible keeping your composure around him considering that he'd been in a tight-fitting black muscle tee, the rest of him clad in his character's leather pants and boots, putting on egregious display what exactly Marvel had to edit out during post production of the first Thor movie. "What's up?" you squeaked out.

"Truly, nothing. I just wanted to tell you I look forward to filming with you tomorrow." He placed a hand on your shoulder, bared by the rather revealing nature of your Enchantress costume, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "I'll see you tomorrow, darling. I'll see if I can get someone to assist you with your costume."

Your heart caught in your throat as you watched his eyes give you a once over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, before leaving the tent.

Here lies Y/N Y/L/N. Cause of death? Sanity and ability to breathe were stolen by Thomas William Hiddleston.

Knock Knock Knock

You looked up from your position on the couch, your neck and back straining from being hunched over and taking notes as you watched compilation after compilation of the "best tv and movie kisses" on YouTube. Every bit of preparation you could do for tomorrow's scene short of trolling through Tinder or Raya, you would willingly do.

After all, if you looked stupid in your hotel room practicing how to kiss on your hand but no one else was around to see it, did you actually look stupid?

Yes. The answer was yes.

"I didn't order room service!" you called out in the direction of the door and sending the mistaken server on his way, turning back to face the TV and somehow transpose in your mind that the actors in the scene were you and Tom, trying to plan out how to move your body the way theirs moved, to not lean in too much so that your teeth didn't knock together, and to not even think about any lip biting considering your own dreadful history--

Knock Knock Knock

You groaned at the insistent mistaken case of room service and turned off the TV, flipping your notes over so that in case they were of the nosy variety nothing could leak. The last thing you needed throughout production was Holland and Ruffalo greeting you tomorrow morning with open arms and goofy grins saying "One of us! One of us!"

"I'm sure you're mistaken, buddy, I didn't order any--"

You opened the door and realized it wasn't room service on the other side. It was Tom, looking at you with a soft amusement in his eyes, the mortification spreading through your system at the knowledge that he was seeing you clad in a loose cotton ruffle sleepwear dress that went down the length of your arms and fell to your knees.

The farthest cry from the allure of Amora. And yet the best possible representation of yourself in real life.

"O-Oh uhh…hi," you stammered, constantly shifting your posture in your attempt to seem casual. "What's up?"

You felt even more chagrined when those eyes that haunted your every dream since you were a teenager that was every bit the awkward dork that you were at this moment once again gave you a once over. Only this time the smirk graduated to him biting his lip. What is his deal? Is he really just trying to make me spontaneously combust? Burn off the final shred of sanity that I'm holding on to? Did he choose me as his use case for a scientific study to prove that death by swooning was most definitively a thing?

"Y/N I heard you earlier today with Scarlett and Elizabeth." Someone call the cemetery and have them erect my tombstone. "I didn't intend to, but I'd been walking by the area and--"

"Ohh fuck," you groaned, pressing your hands to your eyes and spinning in your spot trying calm your racing mind. "Look I'm really sorry maybe we could talk to Anthony and Joe and we could have them write the scene out comp--"

Your words caught in your throat in a hitched squeak as you felt his hands wrap around yours, pulling them away from your face. "Look at me, please." You opened your eyes and became stunned silent when you saw a tenderness in his as he framed your face in his hands. "I'm not here to ask you to talk to anyone about getting the scene written out."

"Then why--"

He silenced you by pressing his lips to yours, all the words beginning to melt away. What little knowledge you'd gotten seemed trivial now, as he coaxed you to kiss him back, as the world around you seemed to fade and a strange quiet washed over you. As you felt your entire body come alive with every tender brush of his lips against yours.

So this was what they meant.

He pulled away from you, one arm wrapped securely around your waist to keep you close, and the other hand gently cradling the back of your head. "I came here because you are a woman who deserves to be kissed breathless. Often. By someone who knows how." He gave you a soft smile before slanting his mouth over yours, tongue gently brushing along the parting of your lips as if asking for entrance.

It was as if your whole body weakened once you parted your lips and felt his tongue gently flicking against yours. His arm tightened around you as he lifted you up seemingly effortlessly and pinned you to the wall, his lips never once leaving yours.

When Tom broke the kiss you were both gasping for breath, the air once again leaving your body the moment his lips latched on to your neck, his hands roaming down your body until they hooked around the backs of your knees to wrap your legs around him. You had to clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the resounding moan that escaped you the second his hips rolled into yours.

"No, darling," he groaned against your skin, one hand reaching up to wrap around yours and pry it away from your mouth. "I want to hear you." He moved away from your neck and brought his face inches from yours. "I also heard one more thing. A downright sacrilegious thing. About how you've had to fake your pleasure with everyone you've laid with."

He placed your hand on his shoulder, which you quickly hooked around his neck to hold yourself up as he lifted you away from the wall and walked further into the hotel room, making your mind spin with what he intended to do next. "So you heard that, too, huh?" was all you could say as you did your best to remember how to breathe.

"I did. And I wish to change that, too. If you'll let me."

You could only nod before his lips were back on yours again as he laid you down onto the bed.

A/N: I had to fade to black some of these stories if I wanted to meet deadlines, okay? 🤣

'everything' taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @devilsadvocactus @lokiprompts @sititran @ladyjames78 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @creationsbyme @coldnique @athalialaufeyson @simplyholl @tallseaweed @sarahscribbles @unlucky-number-13 @ozymdias @maple-seed @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfsmom1 @km-ffluv @psychospore @loopsisloops @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovelysizzlingbluebird

[rockingrobin69]

Last Minute

The right turn was apparently the wrong one, and they had to drive another ten miles before they found a place to stop. Harry still wasn’t very confident behind the wheel, a fact he strictly refused to admit; it was unto Draco then to tell him, a little shrilly, that he was nearly scraping that fence and to watch that bloody lamppost! Which didn’t put either of them in a great mood.

Then the rain came on, of course. Then the tyre air pressure light, again. Then a sheep sauntered onto the one-lane excuse for a road, and a lorry nearly crushed them flat, and the wheels flicked mud all over the passenger-side window.

They’d run out of snacks two hours ago and were about to run out of fuel. The radio, which had been playing screeching static for the last thirty miles, was now adamant on sticking to some Tory-bullshit chat about bus fare. Draco wished he’d taken the bus; wished he’d left the country; wished he told Harry to forget it, forget the whole thing, just, enough. Go back home with their tail between their legs and admit defeat, because none of it actually mattered.

Wait. There was—wait, that was true. None of it actually mattered. Draco tapped the frown between his eyebrows, then clicked his tongue.

“Hey,” he put his hand on Harry’s arm. When all he got was an annoyed hum: “Can you just—stop for a second?”

Miraculously, the road provided a place to pull over, which Harry then did, and added a deep, painful sigh to the whole tragic affair.

“What?” with this weariness he only got on long drives.

“Why are we doing this?” Draco asked, and wished his voice had come out gentle instead of accusatory. “I mean—who are we trying to prove wrong? I know how far I can go on spite alone, and apparently it’s exactly three-hundred and seven miles.”

Harry swallowed a small sound of surprise. “What? You mean—you want to turn back? Now?”

“Would that be so bad?”

“It’s a fucking three-hundred miles journey and it’s getting late.”

Draco rubbed his eyes, nodded. “All right. Then we don’t go home. We planned to spend the night anyway—”

“At your fucking parents’ estate.”

“Yes. And instead of torturing ourselves, why not try the next lovely bed and breakfast we see. Why not—take a ferry and go to Arran. Why not do anything that doesn’t involve Lucius Malfoy, and possibly as little driving as can be, and just have a nice night? Why not forget about all this,” hand gesturing vaguely at the rain, at the mud, at the mileage, “and remember the only thing that’s actually important?”

Harry’s pout should not have been so endearing. “Which is?” he asked, suspicious.

“This,” couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Took Harry’s hand and squeezed. “My darling, my idiot, this, this is what matters.”

Harry sucked in a breath. Closed his eyes. Shook his head, nodded, then shook his head again. “Your father—”

“Can eat an entire, gigantic, garlic flavoured, extra-hot bag of dicks.” With a devilish smile that made even Harry crack a grin. “Who bloody cares. Let him rot. In fact, I think I know a place just down the road—if we are where I think we are—it’s nice and has a great view to the loch when, you know, it isn’t chucking it down, and… what do you say?”

Harry shook his head again, but he was still smiling. “You fucker. Of course. I fucking love it.” Leaned down to give the corner of Draco’s mouth a peck. “Fucking love you.”

“Me too,” Draco said, and, “idiot,” and kissed him again, properly this time.

It turned out they weren’t at the junction Draco thought he knew. It took about thirty minutes and three wrong turns to find it. Didn’t matter: fuck, what a relief that it just didn’t matter, because Harry’s hand was rubbing gentle lines over his (and not angrily drumming on the gearstick), because he was still smiling, because they had this all to themselves. The rain and the traffic and the terrible road. The whole night just for them.

My darling @getawayfox, happy, happy birthday. I love you and also I love you and also, I love you.

[narwhalandchill]

also mistake not my silence on the summer event story now that its all out for not paying attention bc. well firstly not going to be the subject of this post but seriously just the . Overall implications of the whole thing when it comes to teyvat and genshin as a whole? wild stuff like are they rly out there revealing the entire cosmology now 😭 (tho i kinda have. Mixed thoughts as well)

anyway secondly and most importantly because of course i have priorities (its ajax we all know) . soooo simulanka and names eh?

HUH!

well not that i was any doubter to begin with in that it like. meant something when hit game jenshin impact featuring guy already foreshadowed and being set up for some real curious world-overturning and celestia torching business etc etc etc coincidentally named. ajax. among other things. that the same game happening to Also begin introducing this whole other ajax/aias as an actual historical figure featured within the games lore and legends. would very much be just a massive fucking thing we Should be taking very seriously in terms of his future development but like thanks very much for confirming it too uwu

anyway let us look at my favorite french cultist scribbled note for no particular reason once more just to celebrate the occasion

i mean what can i say man . truly the endgame relevance long term allegations continue undodged 😤😤

anyway whats kinda funny to me is the way a lot of ppls reaction to this name confirmation seems to be like. omg ajax is in trouble now bc irl mythology ajax died and ajax/aias of genshin also seems to have possibly had a shit fate by the end im so worried omg . when like. literally the second part to this whole "name = inheriting destiny" thing we see in simulanka is that . with the right circumstances . the one that inherits the name and destiny is not necessarily doomed to that exact same outcome as the original . like we all did see how we saved simulanka durin right?? and how the existence of mini durin may now open up the possibility of teyvats durin to receive a different outcome to his tale???? right??

like why do ppl have so little faith in childe im 😭 like if you ask me hes Already giving indication of defying his fate in a multitude of ways (vision malfunction being a big one) so personally i simply think we need to let him do his thing and see where he goes with it . i have faith in him like if Anyones abt to subvert the fate hes been set up with be it due to his name or any other reason . its gonna be him lmao

like. its not even new stuff kwdwdjkdwjk

either way tho . even if this fucker straight up "dies" or goes MIA im not even that worried bc. ppl worrying about this "tragic fate" his namesake seems to be conferring to him by default with simulankas explicit confirmation of a names meaning . and its just are we straight up missing the fact that this historical ajax/aias is Literally connected to that rent free narzissenkreuz note that EXPLICITLY aligns this "tragedy" with the theme of REBIRTH. and becoming a descender straight up .

like maybe its just me but this Really isnt giving "omg childe is going to die due to mirroring the fate of ajax" its giving "childe is Literally being set up to become sth descender equivalent one way or another AND theyre doubling down on it now" im sorry 😭

like. even the implications of phrases like. "forsaking the self" to be reborn in the abyss just reminds me of this. weird panic people have around childes vision malfunction as if its like. vision is GOOD ambition and his GOOD ending and his GOOD characteristics and it malfunctioning means BAD EVIL SIN ambition and WRONG characteristics is taking over!!!!!!!11! hes being torn into two different directions and the abyss is bad and vision (=celestia) is good!!!!!1

and its like. say we even buy that (but like dang what a sustainer sponsored take to have in a. gnostic inspired lore environment JWSJKJKSF) . that his. "correct" and "healthy" destiny as vision wielder (that Every single recipient of a "gods EYE" gets like forcibly and irrevocably bound to by design and surely this isnt problematic at all) . is a part of that "self" that is being forsaken and twisted as his destiny pushes against celestias control and his connection to said vision falters . lets say we assume that is a "bad" thing for his "intended" path and destiny somehow .

(which YES it prolly is. but only within the bounds of a world order set up by the heavenly principles!!! of COURSE the HP would force people into destinies and paths that Only serve the continuity of its rule!!! and doesnt shake up the system!! like yes a vision likely represents and assigns to people a "Good" ambition but thats not from the recipients POV thats from celestias POV and at this point its just. fellas. we are not supposed to buy into that at face value lmao)

which like. again. i v much dont buy anyway i think every single time genshin calls something sin or forbidden it should be assessed v critically.

but even with that assumption we can still see how this very note is already implicating that "forsaking the self" is Literally a prerequisite . in this grand destiny featuring ajax/aias . for reaching True rebirth as a holy infant and a descender and all that . for defying the shackles of the heavens . for gaining a will that rivals the world . right???

+ also if like. forsaking the self being mayhaps and perchance more of a GOOD thing in a world with preordained and unyielding destiny set up by false divinity wasnt already established enough

welp thank you rene narzissenkreuz.

oh "excising the self" you say?? that sure sounds a bit like "forsaking the self" doesnt it ??? how curious that it would be considered less of a "death" and more of a "rebirth" indeed . and that a vision to a cultist very invested in the methods available to Defy a prophecy and fate is very much a bad thing to receive . like what a coincidence that we would have a note like this as an established character already tied to a note you wrote about acquiring a descenders will is experiencing vision compatibility issues its very funny indeed.

so like ig what im trying to say is just idk for me personally if ajax is out there forsaking his self by any metric im just gonna be cheering him on <3

but yeah jkqjkwdjkwdjkwd dont mind me im just kinda rent free with how its now just even more confirmed by hoyo that this insane ajax/aias note stuff is Not meant to be coincidental At All (even tho its very funny ppl doubted the signifance to begin with at all). but also i just dont get the panicking abt it being some bad thing lmao like this is just genuinely hype as fuck for him 😭😭😭

[wheels-of-despair]

Billy Pairing: Michael (Hoard) x You Summary: Michael tells you about his tattoo. Contains: A backstory nobody asked for, mentions of Michael's tragic childhood, insight as to why these two are they way they are. Words: 1k

18+. Youths and ageless blogs, be gone. Writer WILL block you.

"What day is it?" Michael asks suddenly, head lifting off of your stomach and squinting through the dark in the direction of the calendar on your bedroom wall.

"The 20th," you answer. He'd been quiet for so long, you thought you'd lulled him to sleep by playing with his hair.

He puts his head back down and sighs.

"It's Billie's birthday," he says quietly.

"That was your brother's wife?" you ask, hoping you're remembering right.

"Yeah," he sighs. "The first one. The good one."

"Is that the Billy from your tattoo?"

He snorts. "Yeah. Fucker spelled it wrong. She'd have thought it was funny, though, so I left it."

You slide your hand back into his hair and smile.

"She died when I was fifteen," he says quietly, nuzzling his face into your stomach. "Got hit by a car. Became very clear that she was the only reason my brother had taken me in." He grows tense at the mention of his brother.

"What was she like?" you ask, fingers working the back of his neck. You can feel him relax, either from your touch or from thinking about the woman who raised him.

"She was great. Had this smile that lit up a room. Always asked me how my day was and what I wanted to eat. Took me shopping for my own clothes for the first time in my life. Made me feel like I mattered." Michael pauses to sigh. "She made me birthday cakes, and took care of me when I was sick. Tucked me in at night. Only person who's ever done that to me before. Nearly shit myself the first time, then couldn't fall asleep without it," he chuckles, then turns somber. "Billie taught me all kinds of things no one else ever bothered to. Manners. Taking care of myself. Being a man. She had endless patience, even though I was a little shit. So much nicer than I deserved. Only spanked me once."

"What'd you do?" you ask, tracing the shell of his ear.

"Cried harder than I ever did when my brother came after me," he remembers, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Only used her hand, but somehow that hurt more. She even put me in the corner after."

"I meant, what did you do to deserve it?" you smile, scratching playfully at his scalp.

He nuzzles into your stomach and sighs. "Said some things I shouldn't have. She said she forgave me, but I still wish I hadn't said them. She didn't deserve it. She was an angel."

This side of him makes your heart swell. You almost wish you could keep him this soft and sweet forever… but then he wouldn't be the cheeky little bastard you fell in love with.

"I'm sure she knew you didn't really mean it," you say softly, stroking his hair. "You were what, twelve when you came to live with them?" He hums in confirmation. "Kids mouth off all the time, especially at that age."

"Never mouthed off to her again," he chuckles.

"I'll have to keep that in mind," you tease, lifting your foot to tap his ass. He uses your baggy shirt to hide his blushing face. You let out a quiet laugh and hold him a little tighter.

"I miss her," he whispers.

"I know, baby," you whisper back, giving him a comforting squeeze. A silent sob shakes his body. "But I'm glad you had her, even if it was just for a little while. Because you're wonderful, and I don't doubt that she's the one who made you that way. I bet she'd be so proud of the man you've become."

You feel his tears leaking through your shirt.

You know he wants to argue, and you're ready to argue right back. He's an amazing person, and one of these days, you're going to make him believe it.

"She'd like you," he says instead, catching you off-guard. "You don't let me get away with anything."

"And what exactly are you trying to get away with today, Michael?" you tease.

"Nothinggg," he whines, dragging out the word and burying his face in your shirt again. You can feel him grinning.

"Well, now you've made me suspicious, and I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

"Promise?" he asks, turning his head so that this big shiny eyes stare up at you in the light seeping in through the curtains.

"Promise," you whisper, cupping the side of his face. He closes his eyes for a second, then kisses your palm.

"Love you," he mumbles. Like he's still not sure you want to hear it.

"Love you, too," you smile, tracing his bottom lip with your thumb. "Want me to tuck you in?"

"Fuck off," he laughs, crawling up and dropping his head on his pillow. His back is to you.

"I'm serious," you laugh, scooting closer. "You know I'd do anything for you." You wrap an arm around his middle and rest your cheek between his shoulders, letting your body melt into his. "I'll tuck you in. Take care of you when you're sick. Take you shopping, fix you dinner, make your birthday cakes. Throw you over my knee if you need it."

He exhales and holds your hand to his chest.

"Really?" he asks.

"Mhm," you hum, turning slightly to kiss him between the shoulder blades. "I said I'd do anything for you, and I meant it. All you have to do is ask. Okay?"

"Okay," he says quietly. "Would you…" he trails off and sighs.

"C'mon, baby," you encourage him, stroking his fingers with your thumb.

"Would you… do something about this?" He takes your hand and slides it down his torso, landing on his half-hard dick. "Please?"

You laugh and give him a squeeze. He grunts.

"Guess I asked for that, huh?" you grin, rubbing him through his underwear. He moans and squirms at your touch.

"Actually, I did," he says cheekily. "Just like you told me to."

You give his rapidly hardening cock a slow stroke, and he arches his back and pushes himself further into your hand.

"You're lucky I love you, smart-ass," you tease, fingers slipping beneath his waistband.

"I know," he moans.

[thelavendercatalogue]

Personal Gravestone HC But I personally believe Malta's Manager Ya know this fucker

Had something to do with her death.

Lemme explain. We all know that by technicality sakes, that Malta's death probably wouldn't have happened if her manager hadn't been such a dick to Jigen. Had Jigen been allowed to stay close there is an extreme chance that Malta would've survived the assassination attempt at her concert

But something about what The Manager said struck me as strange

While he's telling Jigen to take a hike, he questioned the fact of Jigen being her bodyguard, as if he didn't know, he even talked about Jigen as if he didn't even know who he was. But here's the thing, he's her MANAGER how did you NOT know the tall guy waltzing around with her was a BODYGUARD who she PAID FOR

So here's my little HC

Despite how he reacted towards Jigen, I honestly think the manager actually knew who Jigen was.

He knew he was Malta's Bodyguard. You don't see a guy waltzing around with the biggest star to date, and not think one of two things but don't question either until it's too late.

Like how do you not know

for example look at this photo

I know Yael AND the East Doroa Government had camera's all over the place and that's how they probably got the photo, BUT THAT ALSO MEANS JIGEN AND MALTA WERE WALKING IN PUBLIC TOGETHER. PEOPLE SAW THEM TOGETHER

the manager didn't?

Even STILL EVEN IF the manager did not know who Jigen was, which i think is complete bullshit, his behavior doesn't settle right with me, especially considering the whole fact that even WITH her trying to promote peace, even MALTA would have to have known the danger she was in, why else would she have hired a body guard in the first place?

And if she's on this BIG cross country tour, visiting "hostile countries" at war with her own home, her manager had GOT to have known that Jigen was her bodyguard and the reasons as to WHY she would have hired him in the first place. Even if her manager didn't like the fact of Jigen being there, for the sake of the woman MAKING HIM MONEY, during one of the BIGGEST events on her peace tour especially in a country that was considered enemies with her HOME country, you'd think he'd want her safe regardless. There was NO REASON why he would suddenly kick Jigen out.

Like deep down WOULD Jigen have been able to do something about it maybe I think yes.

The only reason he didn't notice where Yael was because he was above him in the booth Jigen had to look up to notice him

but HAD Jigen been ON THAT STAGE with her singing

HE DEFINITELY would have noticed before ANYONE that someone was up there.

Jigen is well trained to notice those little things, he would not have let that slip.

Her Manager was totally in on her hit I REFUSE to believe he had no part in her hit, it was too much of a coincidence for her manager to shoo Jigen away when he did. And what makes this all the more sad is remember what Malta said to Jigen in both dub and sub

"My enemy is not only this nation. It’s not as if this country is the only enemy"

She knew. . . even in the beginning she knew. And it makes it all the more sad even knowing that East Doroa, her own home was involved with her murder. And was willing to let West Doroa take the fall for it in order to push for the wars continuance.

But the government being on the hit is one thing her own manager selling her out? Somehow it puts a whole new perspective and makes her tragic death that more twisted. . .

No wonder Jigen wanted to settle the score