#anyways they were made for each other they need each other they complement each other etc

[texasflowers]

Sun and Moon coded but not light vs dark or good vs evil.

The Sun is a burning and blinding oppressive force, capable of harm despite the good it brings.

The Moon is cool with a soft and calming glow, yet the light is only made possible by the sunshine it receives.

[starrluvs]

I have a request! How about a scenario where we have a very ugly and strong argument with Bi-han, but later he comes back to apologize and let us take it out on him for treating us so badly?

(I just want some agressive sex/rage sex/fury sex with this man)

𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍 | 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘/𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐗

cw: fem reader, married couple, piv sex, bi-han is a little rough, reader cant stand bi-han's attitude tbh, angry sex, make up/apology sex, fighting for dominance, cock drunk reader, mentions of bi-han dirty talking in cantonese creampie, bi han and reader are both sassy/petty little shits that still love each other, and i think that's it! minors dni please!

wc: 2.6k

a/n: wow idk why this took me so long, but i kinda like this one ;) ... ty for this idea, nonnie <3 i also want to mention that the mention of bi-han speaking/dirty talking in cantonese was heavily inspired by a headcanon i seen from @bihansthot ! anyways, enjoy!!

silent treatment was without a doubt something that bi-han absolutely loathed. he truly believed it’d be better off if you were to scream your lungs out at him instead. but getting a cold shoulder and silent treatment from you was something his ego couldn’t handle. had anybody else dared to ignore his presence the way you had these past forty-eight hours, he’d probably have them executed after the first five minutes of this frivolous behaviour. but you, his wife, was a different case.

bi-han couldn’t discipline or punish you the way he would towards his students and lower ranked lin kuei ninjas. you were his wife– his equal –and this silent game of ‘who’s willing to crack first?’ was driving him mad, although he’d never admit that to anybody… yet.

the fabric of the towel was soft against your hands while you worked on drying out your hair. having just exited the shower, you were in nothing but a silk blue robe that complemented your husband's traditional colour scheme. just the thought of him made you scoff out loud and shake your head, who the hell did he think he was?, you thought to yourself. about two days ago, bi-han appeared to be grumpy when he arrived back at your shared compound after finishing his duties for the day. 

being the supportive wife you were, you tried to talk to your husband, ask him if he needed anything from you, or even tried to see if he would be vocal about what was bothering him. and much to your dismay, he lashed out on you as if you were some peasant who worked under him during the day– which you sure as hell weren't.

“leave me be. the last thing i need tonight is another insignificant fool blabbering in my ear constantly.” 

his voice was sharp when he walked past you and entered your shared bedroom. bi-han having miserable mood swings wasn’t something new, but he almost never verbally took out his stress on you– possibly because he knew better. truth be told, you were too tired for his attitude today and had no intentions of letting him ruin your peaceful afternoon. all you did was let out a ‘hmph’ that you purposely made loud enough for him to hear and continued in silence with the fruit you were cutting up for yourself in the kitchen.

ever since that transpired, you haven’t said a word to bi-han and completely ignored his presence, which made his blood run colder than it already was. he was a hard person to read when he kept his usual stoic expression, but deep down you knew he was aware of how frustrated you were with him. which is exactly what you wanted.

letting out a tired sigh, you look at yourself in the mirror and take time to fix up your hair before exiting the bathroom and arriving at your bed. as you sat in silence for a moment, you felt the temperature noticeably drop… he’s here. rolling your eyes, you decide to comfortably tuck yourself in on your side of the shared bed and warm yourself up from the chilly air.

however , your eyes never shut– not even when the door creaks open slowly and reveals your husband’s tall form. his demeanour didn’t seem to be as aggressive compared to how it was two days ago, which you were grateful for. but you still avoided eye contact with him and stared at the wall in silence, not wanting to be bothered. you knew your worth and refused to feed into your husband's ego, because you knew that it was already big enough… your thoughts came to a halt when you heard bi-han speak up. “your juvenile behaviour is astounding,” he scoffs, and you can damn near feel his eyes piercing into you. 

in response, you calmly grab your pillow and walk right past him, making your way to the living room. bi-han watches you settle yourself down on the couch as you lay down and begin to curl yourself up comfortably. all he does is release a sigh from his lips, contemplating on what his next course of action should be. bluntly calling you childish probably wasn’t the best thing to say after two days of neither of you talking to each other, but he couldn’t stop himself from speaking his mind.

deep down he knew he’d have to put his pride and ego aside to resolve this. he was the eldest of three sons, a powerful and deadly assassin, the grandmaster of the lin kuei– and yet here he was, allowing silent treatment from his wife to get under his skin. letting out a stubborn groan, bi-han made his way towards you and knelt down on the mat so that he was at face level with you on the couch. 

he calls out your name in the softest way he could, hoping you would turn to him. but he clearly failed to get your attention as you didn’t say anything back. his small whim of patience had already run out, “do you insist on telling me what your problem is?” this time his tone sounded more cold and gruff, as usual. rolling your eyes once again for the night, you turn to bi-han and finally speak to him, “last i recall, i was just a mere insignificant fool blabbering in your ear when i tried to talk,” he could've sworn your tone was sassy, sarcastic and authoritative all at once– as if you were just waiting to bite at him.

if he was being honest, it’s one of the many things he found so attractive about you. the way you didn’t take shit from anybody– not even himself –made bi-han fall hard for you… he needed a strong willed woman by his side. but moments like this proved to be a form of self realisation. the only people who would ever dare to talk back to him were just you and his brothers. he was so used to everyone following his lead and command, it was almost… refreshing, to have somebody stand their ground.

the glare and frown you had on your face was something you were far too beautiful for. bi-han closed his eyes and inhaled as calmly as possible, trying to collect his words and choose them wisely. “what i said to you that day was regrettable–” you cut him off before he could continue, “and?,” you were already unimpressed with his words, “it’s not like there’s anything you can say to take it back.” your husband must’ve known that just words alone wasn’t going to solve this. 

“i understand that, but,” his cold hand gently grasps your arm, causing goosebumps to raise all over your body. “perhaps there’s something i can do to make amends for what i’ve done?”

and now you’re here, back on your shared bed, taking out your own frustration above bi-han on his cock. you had your hands planted on bi-han’s chest as you bounced up and down his shaft, “fuck..!” your voice lost that sting it previously had, making bi-han grow a prideful grin on his face. “still trying to put me in my place?” your husband’s taunting only made you feel more agitated than you already were. with an attempt to keep your moan in, you bite down on your lower lip and snake your hands up to bi-han’s neck, keeping a slight grip. “s-shut– ngh!– up…” the movement of your hips refused to come to a halt, forcing bi-han to lay back and stay below you.

it felt like a battle for dominance between the two of you. two hard headed (and sometimes ignorant) lovers trying to prove to each other how much power they had over one another. bi-han was confident that you knew how easily he could overpower you in terms of strength, but decided to let you have your little wish of ever taking control over him. looking down at him, his chest was covered in sweat and his ears and cheeks were flushed in a light shade of pink. though you’d have to admit that your hands around his neck were a great touch. it felt as if there was a surge of power and control coursing through you.

apart from his occasional groans, the cryomancer stayed silent as he watched your voluptuous body on top of his. noticing your lover’s face contort in pleasure, you can’t help but spew out more words, “yeah… did you r-really, ah!, think that i would tolerate that b-behaviour from y– f-fuck!,” before you could finish blurting out what you wanted to, bi-han had gripped your hips hard enough to stop your movements as he fucked up into you, making you cry out at the sudden surprise of pleasure he was bringing you.

the grandmaster only chuckled. he found your sounds pitiful, “you talk too much.”  from the way his cock was jackhammering into you, it proved too difficult to spit out any sort of petty comment towards him. the speed of his thrusts made your body feel limp and your husband took note of this from the moment you slumped down, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. his voice was dangerously close to your ear from this angle, “mmm…such an incompetent attempt of being in control,” your pride disallowed you from letting out any moans, “fuck.. y-you..!” hearing how slurred your words were only made bi-han scoff.

your attempts at keeping composure were becoming futile and bi-han knew how close you were to cumming around his length with the way your pussy tightened and gripped him like a vice. “i can feel how close you are, love,” bi-han stops his thrusts but keeps himself fully buried inside of you. before you could get the chance to protest or whine, the cryomancer speaks up. “i have no intention of letting you cum until you accept my apology.” the expression he held was smug while he secured your waist with that same grip he had before, making you unable to move your hips. 

you’d been so focused on taking out your frustration on him that you forgot the whole point of this was him trying to make amends for how he lashed out on you. truthfully, you would’ve purposely told your husband that he’d have to take you out on a fancy date in order for you to accept his apology… but you already felt so fucked out from how his cold cock was abusing your insides just moments ago. you were so close, and you needed that coil in your stomach to snap. “fuck, i forgive you– okay? just let me cum already, pleaseee–!” bi-han groans in response and glides a cold finger to press on your clit, making you shiver in pleasure at how swollen and sensitive your bud feels. without any more wasted time, the grandmaster delivers his quick thrusts from underneath you once again and rubs fast circles on your clit.

the feeling of everything was becoming overwhelming, “ahh– ‘s good! it f-feels so g– ngh!” your mind was clouded with lust and each sentence you tried to complete ended up failing to connect coherently. there were words that left bi-han’s mouth, but you could barely decipher what he was saying with the way your heart beat drummed in your ears– 

it was in that moment, your cries echoed in the room as you pulsed around his cock, gushing around his member. bi-han reduced the speed of his thrusts while trying to help you ride out your high. once you finally come back down from your bliss, you feel your husband's cold, rough hands manhandle you and flip the position that you two were in. you were now layed on your back as bi-han towered over you, parting your legs and easing between them. 

being able to admire your body with the positions swapped felt so refreshing to bi-han. watching the way your breasts heaved up and down with short breaths… the way your skin was coated with sweat, resulting in your hair being out of place from its presentable manner you previously had it in. and being able to see your juices not only coating his cock– but also the inside of your thighs. seeing your slick trickle down to the mattress… gods, you were so beautiful like this. 

bi-han couldn’t waste any more precious time just observing when you were unintentionally inviting him to ravish you even more than he already has. the cryomancer grabs your leg and hooks it over his shoulder as he positions himself enough to easily slide his cock into your pussy. being filled up again made your walls flutter– you wanted to be here forever, just taking his cock while it stuffed you full. to no surprise, bi-han’s thrusts were rough as he began to chase his own high.

your moans never came to an end and were only received as noises to push bi-han further. the cryomancer decides to place a grip on both of your legs this time and leans closer, pinning your knees right by your ears and increasing the force of his thrusts. your folded position had you seeing stars as bi-han’s cock was angled even deeper than before. the way his tip kissed your sweet spot again and again– you could no longer stop your tongue from lolling out, followed by drool rolling down from your mouth.

bi-han snickers, “all of that attitude earlier…” he moves closer to your face and his nose touches yours, “just to be reduced to a cock hungry vixen beneath me– shit!” your husband spits out, feeling how your walls clenched around him from his harsh words. even if you were able to coherently speak, you would never admit how much of a mess you become when bi-han works his cock inside of you…

the grandmaster felt himself becoming dangerously close to his climax, and you felt it with the way his rock hard cock twitched inside of you. his volume started to increase and his grunts became shallow moans that he desperately tried to hold back. noticing this, you use the last bit of your energy to purposely squeeze hard around him, clamping your pussy around his cock as if you were trying to keep it all for yourself. the unexpected action made bi-han lace out a loud string of swears and words in his mother tongue. although you didn’t quite understand what he was saying, you were aware that they were phrases he only used in scenarios like this, making you assume that only vulgar words were leaving his mouth.

the roles were reversed now– this time he was the one hiding his face in the crook of your neck with your lips right by his ear. his hips started to stutter and lose the rhythm it previously had. letting out a lustful hum, you speak into his ear, “inside… haah– c-come on..! fuckin’ fill me up, please!” hearing your voice spew out these words was enough to do it– he filled you to the brim with his seed.

you made sure to milk him dry, taking every drop that he had to offer you. both of you laid there, completely fucked out and exhausted– his body was still slouched over yours while he took time to catch his breath. very slowly, he pulled his cock out of you and planted a peck on your lips, “in no other realm would i have imagined reciting vows with a woman that carried such a flame and sharp tongue,” he leans down and places yet another kiss to your swollen lips, 

“yet i could never imagine falling in love with anybody else…”

[vixstarria]

Mark me as yours

This takes place immediately after and is interlinked with 'Missionary with the lights off' but from Astarion's rather than Tav's POV - check it out if you haven't already, the fics complement each other.

Soft sassy Astarion, F!Tav, Gale, minor appearances by other origin characters, Astarion POV

Fluff, humour, banter, pining, non-explicit sexual references

A day in camp in the life of Astarion. Features brooding, sewing, doing laundry, being dramatic, engaging in improper use of archmage of Waterdeep, reading erotica, and more!

Approx. 2,000 words

AO3

You frowned at the stuffed bear you held in your hands, weighing up your desire to showcase your skills against the absurdity of the task at hand.  

The whole thing was coming apart and needed to be washed and restuffed if you were to do this properly. What was inside, anyway? Fur..? You supposed you could go hunt something furry. Or maybe save yourself the time and just give Scratch a quick partial shave, he wouldn’t mind – the mutt lying at your feet was stupid enough to like you. To prefer you over anyone else, in fact.  

You reached down to give him a fond, absentminded pet.  

And then there was the matter of not letting it burn to a crisp the moment Karlach touched it. 

“Is there a flame ward enchantment on this..? Can you reapply it?” you asked Gale, who was nearby at his usual spot by the fire, concocting something edible for the rest of your group. 

“There is and I sure can,” he replied.  

Great. You had gotten yourself into a group project with the wizard to rescue a teddy bear.  

“Don’t tell me this is what Wyll was so concerned about earlier...” Tav had finally made it out of your tent and sat down next to you, looking somewhat less disheveled than how you’d left her.  

“The bag of holding finally tore. Naturally I was the only one competent enough to fix it.” 

You gestured with your thumb towards a towering pile of assorted crap that Wyll and Lae’zel were still sifting through: Lae’zel inspecting and setting aside any weapons and armour she deemed worth keeping, and Wyll sorting through an array of scrolls and potions no one was ever going to use, or would forget were in your possession if the need for them ever did arise.  

“Darling, this is your fault, you know,” you added. “Must you pick up everything?” 

“Karlach made me do it. Also I don’t know what you’re talking about, I am prudence and sensibility personified,” she said. 

“You’re uh... You’re also bleeding,” Gale said, pointing at her neck. 

A trail of blood had started running down from the puncture wounds, which must have reopened.  

Shit. 

Before you could reason yourself out of it, your instincts kicked in and you pressed your mouth against her neck, licking the blood off. By the gods, she actually leaned into you as you did that, not away. You glimpsed a guilty, sheepish smile she threw at Gale, as you pulled away.  

“Idiot... Here, apply pressure, I’ll get the amulet,” you said. 

“I’m the idiot?! You’re the one who ran off to resolve a sewing emergency, like a good little seamstress, before sorting me out!” 

You strode over to your tent, in part to grab the amulet of Silvanus, in part to discreetly tuck away the erection that had immediately started developing as soon as you tasted her blood.  

Hells, am I 239 or 15? you thought, annoyed with yourself.  

“An amulet? I was wondering why you’d stopped visiting me in the mornings...” you heard from Shadowheart. 

“We have a system,” Tav replied.  

“Clearly,” laughed Shadowheart. 

A scene from the night sprung up in your mind as you went about your day: 

She’d fallen asleep on your shoulder, half lying on you, her nose buried in your neck.  

It was... nice. Really nice. And you didn’t think this bizarre scenario would ever happen again.  

And yet, pleasant as it was, she still felt too far. You needed to feel her closer. Perhaps you were being greedy, but after all these years, why should you get anything less than exactly what you wanted? 

Carefully, very carefully lest she stir awake and leave, you rolled over onto your side, holding her against you.

She was still asleep. Good...   

You cautiously slipped lower and lower until your head was at her chest, delicately wrapping your arms around her torso. 

Then she stirred.  

Shit. 

Without waking, she sighed, drawing you into a tight embrace, clutching you against her chest, complete with throwing a leg over your hips to pull you even closer. 

You finally relaxed, your arms wrapped around her waist. 

Perfect... 

She felt so warm... She smelled of comfort. 

You could indulge in this for the night. You would wake up before she did anyway.  

You drifted away, lulled by the beating of her heart. 

You didn’t have any nightmares that night.  

“Is your boyfriend coming?” you heard Karlach somewhere in the distance.  

You cringed at the juvenile term. Still, you were curious how she would answer.  

“He’s on laundry duty,” she responded. “Just us gals today.” 

“So your idea of doing washing is to pawn everything off to me,” said Gale. 

“Vampires and running water, remember,” you said. “Also you don’t look like you’re exerting an awfully large amount of effort yourself... Although I must admit, this is ingenious.” A little flattery wouldn’t hurt.

Gale sat at a riverbank at a deeper section of the river. Some sheets and clothing were being tossed and spun in a small bubbling whirlpool within the water, together with foaming slivers of soap. 

“Surely few archmages possess such finesse and creativity?” you continued. 

Gale sighed and motioned for you to throw your bundle in as well, expanding the whirlpool.  

“Just toss your shirt in too, it's splattered with blood,” Gale added wearily.  

Her scent lingered on it. The last thing you wanted was to wash it off.

You pulled the shirt over your head and hurled it into the whirlpool.  

“Not Tav’s creative nailwork, I presume..?” Gale asked with a wince, looking at your back.  

“Nope” was all you said, as you pulled a book out from your pocket, making yourself comfortable on the bank. To his credit, the wizard did not probe further. 

‘Mark me as yours’ 

Those words had been echoing in your mind over and over all day.  

It couldn’t have meant anything.  

A little expression of some vampire fetishism finally poking through – you shouldn’t have expected any different from her, she did offer you her blood consistently, not even asking for anything in return.  

Still, you’d felt like something inside you might burst from your desire and thrill when you heard those words.   

And then everything that followed after... 

You had actually lost yourself for a short while. Not dissociated and detached. Lost yourself. In bliss. In the scent of her skin, in the sounds of her need for you, in the sensation of her blood merging with yours and flowing through your veins. 

And now she was walking around somewhere, with telltale bitemarks on her neck for all the world to see. Scandalous... 

No, it couldn’t have meant anything.  

‘Mark me as yours’ 

Still... What a pleasant little fantasy... 

‘Yours’ 

“You’ve been smiling at that page for ten minutes straight now,” Gale’s voice snapped you out of your musings.  

“It’s my favourite page,” you retorted. 

“What’s it about?” he asked snidely after a short pause.  

“I have no idea,” you confessed, begrudgingly, snapping the book shut. If the wizard knew what was best for him, he would abstain from any further comments.  

“She’s quite fond of you,” Gale said sombrely after another pause.  

“Is this about to turn into one of those ‘You break her heart – I'll break your face’ talks?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“Oh gods no,” Gale laughed. "No, I would go straight to incineration... You just strike me as the type that needs to have the obvious spelled out for them.” 

“I am not entering this type of discourse with someone who’s presently washing my spend off my bed sheets,” you said, laying back and shutting your eyes, to bask in the sun. No answer followed. 

Not even a minute had passed when a shadow fell over you.  

Odd, you thought. There hadn’t been a single cloud in the sky. 

You opened your eyes to see a giant water bubble hovering a few meters above you. Was that... a bedsheet floating in the middle..? 

Worth it, you thought just as the undulating bubble spilt and crashed over you.  

You coughed and spat, trying to untangle yourself from the sheet, as the unleashed torrent nearly swept you off the bank. And yet, above all else, you found yourself curious. 

The water had no longer been running as part of the river, true, but given its sheer volume and the velocity at which it hit you, it should have hurt more than merely your pride.  

You made it to the edge of the bank, and cautiously dipped a finger in.

Nothing...

You proceeded to submerge your hand, then your entire forearm, to your elbow. 

Nothing.  

Of all things... Why this? Why not your reflection? Why not the blood craving? Oh well. Beggars, choosers... 

You were laughing.  

“This tadpole,” you turned and shouted at Gale, unabashedly stripping yourself of your pants, as Gale turned away, muttering something about going blind, “is the best thing that’s happened to me in centuries!” 

The best? Maybe second best? It had some tight competition, but you supposed nothing would have been possible without it, so it reigned supreme. 

You leaped into the river, diving and letting the gentle current carry you downstream for a while.  

You knew what you would be doing later that evening with her.  

“What have you got there?”  

She slid onto your lap like a cat that refused to take ‘no’ for an answer as it sought attention. You had been idling away your time by your tent, with some pulp you had picked up earlier. The rest of the group had been drinking and roasting something at the campfire.  

“Trash. Disappointingly boring trash, this time,” you answered. 

“No pulsating flesh tunnels in this one?” 

“Alas... There were not one but two mentions of ‘velvet-wrapped steel’ however, and plenty of ‘sword-sheathing’.” 

“To the hilt?” 

“Is there any other way?” 

“Wouldn’t want to sheathe it only partially, I suppose...” she mused. “Come join us. We found some half-decent wine. And you don’t have to be alone all the time, you know.” 

“Spare me, I’ve had enough of Gale’s lectures and Wyll’s tales for the day. And besides, ugh, all those chewing noises!” You made a gagging sound. 

None of them want me there. 

“Oh don’t be such a delicate princess,” she rolled her eyes. “How’s this: it’s our joint meal time. It would be rude and completely unfair to exclude anyone. You should sit down with everyone, bite down on my wrist and make a great deal of slurping.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

Delightful. Simply delightful. 

“It will be funny!” 

“I fear you might be the only one laughing, darling.” 

That is hilarious, I can just imagine Gale squealing or getting sick. 

“Is there anyone else you’d care to make laugh?” she asked with a slight upturn of her lips. 

Not in the least. 

“I could die again knowing I have accomplished something if I ever make Lae’zel laugh. But perish the thought – I am perfectly happy right here with my literature.” 

“Well, if you don’t want to join the group, perhaps I will stay and you can...” She snatched the book from your hands and tossed it aside, leaning in and bringing her lips up to your ear. “...Release your kraken in my field of rose petals,” she purred in a sultry voice. 

“Stop,” you choked back a snicker.  

“Get tangled up in my beef curtains?” she continued with the same tone. 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“Sink your meat shaft in my cream tart!” she persevered.  

“By the gods, woman, I am never having sex with your again.” 

“Suckle the nectar from my weeping core!” 

“Alright, fine, I’ll go, anything is better than this.” You got up, pushing her off your lap. 

“Taste my forbidden, oozing fruit, Astarion!” she cried out from the ground behind you as you covered your ears and shouted “LALALALA”, making your way towards the campfire. 

You would endure the prattle of your companions.  

Then you would take her for a moonlit swim in the river.  

Then you would see if she might spend the whole night in your arms again.  

Perhaps she could sleep in your shirt and leave her scent on it again – it was foolish to sleep completely in the nude out in the wild after all, what if there were intruders? 

Everything was going according to plan, you reminded yourself.  

~~~~~

Next in series - Down by the river

Series master list

AO3

Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny

Also @spacebarbarianweird - you haven't asked for a tag but sounded interested

[tanniefm]

all to you | jjk (m)

summary - why work on a boring school project when you could fuck your cute bestfriend?!

pairing - sub!jungkook x dom!reader (f)

genre - friends to lovers, pwp

word count - 2.6k

song inspo - all to you by sabrina claudio.

warnings - dry humping, dirty talk, praise, pet names, cumming in pants (EEEE), breast play, reader is described as squishy and squeezable so if you don’t like that my bad

a/n - i just desperately needed whiny koo. badly. also hey lol it’s been a while

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°

You're gonna fail this class. Who the fuck even needs calculus anyway? You huff and continue to throw a silent temper tantrum while writing down equations that don't even make sense to you. You look over at your friend, Jungkook to see if he thinks anything of what the professor was saying makes sense, only to see him diligently writing in his notebook and seeming to retain every bit of information the man bellows out to the class. You chuckle to yourself, your Kookie, always hard at work.

You and Jungkook have been friends since you were kids. He's always been a little meek and quiet, a complete juxtaposition from your talkative and loud manner. You had found him cute, even back in elementary school. His bunny smile and his big doe eyes made you melt every time you looked at him. Being neighbors, naturally, you both were constantly around each other. He was content with listening to you talk your head off while he listened intently and nodded along. You two complement each other. Anytime either of you had a problem, the other was always there to give support. Your favorite thing to do though was tease him. Seeing his pretty face burn scarlet and shyly bite his lip after complimenting him gave you a strange sense of satisfaction. It seemed as though no one could get him so flustered but you. Of course, you tried not to dwell on it, but it's not like it wasn't there.

You watched the clock obsessively, desperately waiting for it to strike 4. You smiled once it did and quickly gathered your stuff to meet Jungkook by the door where he always waited for you. Calculus is your last class of the day so he waits for you to pack up to walk back to the dorms together. As you start down the road to your building, you turn and finally ask him what the fuck you're supposed to be doing for class.

“Oh, we have a test next Monday. It's on Convergence and Divergence, remember?” he asks. No, you do not, but you're sure you wrote down some notes somewhere so maybe that'll count for something.

“I do not have the attention span for this shit I swear. Every time he speaks I automatically zone out,” you groan. He giggles and shakes his head.

“I’ll help you study, don't worry,” Your dorm building comes into view as you keep your pace on the sidewalk.

“Great! My roommate won't be home for another couple of hours so we can get started at mine.” you smile.

You take out your key and unlock the door and walk into the living room to set both of your bags on the kitchen table. Jungkook gets his laptop and notebook and sits on the couch. He found doing your work out here is more productive than in your bedroom since you tend to get a little lazy when you're in the comfort of your room. You've argued with him about this plenty of times before, even though you're very aware he's right.

“You want anything to drink? Eat? I think I might have some ramen in the pantry,” you yell from the kitchen.

“Nah I'm good, thanks!” he yells back. His face illuminates from his screen as he starts looking up the test review your professor sent out for the class.

You come back with a bottle of water and your sweatshirt in your hands. Oh. You took it off. Ok, that's fine - Jungkook thinks to himself - the tight tank top you're wearing that seems to accentuate your boobs and curves perfectly is completely fine. He's fine, just focus on the google doc, JK. He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth and stares wide-eyed at his screen.

“Oh shit, I still need to get the stuff for Tae’s party, hold on,” you whip out your phone and search for the text Taehyung sent you about all the different types of snacks and alcohol he wanted.

“Oh no you don't need to do that, I'll get them it's fine!” he rushes to grab his phone and open his notes app. Tae had sent the list of errands he wanted to the group chat and hadn't given anyone a specific job on who needed to buy what. You had said you’d get some of them, but it seems Jungkook had the same intention.

“Kook, I can get them, it's whatever. Just let me look for what he said he needed,” you argue. He attempts to disagree again but you snatch his phone from his hands before he can get a word out.

“Hey, give it back!” he yelps. You cackle mischievously and turn away from him as he tries to grab his phone from your hands. 

“____! Give me my phone!” he whines. He sets his computer on the coffee table and tries to wrestle it from your grasp again. Just as he lunges for his phone, you put your hand on his firm chest and push him back onto the couch. You climb on top of him and straddle his waist. 

“What are you gonna do about it? Why don't you just take it, hm?” you look down at him and freeze. His lips are in a soft pout and he gives you the best puppy eyes he can muster. 

“Please ____? Just give it back, please?” he whines softly. Your breath hitches as you realize the position you're in. Your best friend is under you begging for his phone while you are staring down at him and straddling his tiny waist. His hands had clasped onto your hips and he absentmindedly squeezed them. Fuck he looks so good like this. Jungkook doesn't know what to focus on. The view of you on top of him like this is something he'll be fisting his dick to for weeks. He bets if he leaned up right now he'd be at the perfect level to kiss you. Maybe even kiss your pretty tits that are seemingly calling for him to suck bruises into. He can feel his jeans tighten as his eyes dart everywhere but your eyes and his face starts to turn pink. You mistake his flustered look for being uncomfortable and immediately attempt to apologize and shift off of him. As you make your move, however, you hear him gasp loudly. His grip on your hips tightens further and his face darkens to a bright red. 

“Oh my god I'm so sorry did I hurt you?” you rush out. He looks like a deer in headlights. Maybe you went too far?

“N-no. M’ ok,” he says in a small voice. You furrow your brows in concern and take his face in your hands.

“Are you sure? You're burning up, babe.” you rub your thumbs across his cheekbones as he stares starry-eyed at you. He offhandedly thinks you might've been an angel in your past life. He smiles gently and nods in your hands. He musters the courage to start rubbing his hands up and down your waist slowly. You feel so soft. He wants to hold you like this forever. However, his dick is starting to strain in response to the worried tone you're taking on. He'll never admit it out loud, but he loves how concerned you get over him. It makes him feel needed and special.

“I'm fine, ____, promise.” He hopes you can see past his white lie for once. Unfortunately for him, it's just then that you start to feel something press against your leggings. 

“Jungkook...are you...?” you say slowly. His eyes widen as his entire body stiffens. Fuck fuck you felt him. Oh god, now you're gonna think he's a fucking weirdo that can't control his hormones. He should've never come over. Now you're gonna hate him forever! You notice his eyes start to well up and immediately try to comfort him.

“No! No baby it's ok! I'm not mad or grossed out please no tears you know I don't like seeing my pretty boy sad.” Without thinking, you softly kiss his forehead. He stares at you in awe and sniffles. Your pretty boy. The words swirl through poor Jungkook’s head on repeat. Did you mean it? Is he really yours? Did you really think he was pretty? Do you think about him the way he thinks about you?

“Y-yours? I'm...yours?” he mumbled. His watery eyes are looking at you like you're the center of the universe. Although you didn't mean for the words to slip, you didn't want to watch doubt cloud his eyes if you were to take them back. So you lean down and smile softly. “Mhm, mine. Always mine,” you see him glance down at your lips the closer you get to him. He starts to close his eyes and you giggle quietly at how cute he looks awaiting your kiss. You brush your lips against his and lean back teasingly. He whines and chases after you. 

“You wanna kiss me, baby? Hm?” you smirk as you watch his eyes flutter open and give you a pleading look. “Yes, please. Wanna kiss,” he frowns. You notice his lisp is starting to show as you cause his brain to turn to mush. You like him like this. All whiny and pliant just for you. Your pretty boy. You guide his lips towards yours and caress your hands along his chest. All the sports he's been doing must be paying off since you swear you can feel every muscle in him tense. His tongue shyly comes out to twist against your own which causes you to sigh blissfully into his mouth. Your fingers brush over his nipples and you feel him gasp.

“Oh? Are your little nipples sensitive, baby? You want me to touch them?” he whimpers and nods. “Words, sweetie. You need to tell me you want me,” you say pointedly. For some reason, he feels like you're talking about more than just touching his nipples. 

“Yes ____. Please touch me…I want you,” he says bashfully. You smile and praise him for being so polite, which in turn rewards you with a toothy grin and a cute nose scrunch. You peck his nose before you resume your little make-out session. Your fingers brush over his nipples once more but this time start to circle them slowly. His hips buck as he lets out a small moan that you swallow. Your hands sneak under his shirt to touch them more directly. You slide your hands up his muscular plane and return them to his pebbled peaks. He starts to whine consistently which only makes you wetter. God, he sounds so fucking pretty. Why didn’t you think to do this sooner? You direct your kisses to his jaw and work your way down his neck. You gently suck on his pulse point and it sends him into a full-body shiver. You giggle and tug at the hem of his shirt. He quickly obliges, tugging it off and diving back into you to continue kissing. He thinks kissing you has got to be his favorite feeling in the entire world now. Your lips are so soft and plump, the vanilla-scented gloss you put on smears across his smaller lips, making him feel dizzy and uncomfortably hard. His hands start to squeeze your hips again. They feel so soft and cushy, he loves how squeezable you are. He wonders if your cunt feels just as soft. Fuck he needs you so bad. He starts to rub himself against your clothed center as you slowly take off your tank top. 

Seeing your boobs squeezed into your bra has him drooling. This has to be a dream come true. “Can I take that off too?” he says whilst completely honed in on your breasts. You laugh and nod, god could he get any cuter? He reaches around and clumsily fumbles with the hooks. He’s so horny he can’t even think straight. He already knows his boxers are drenched with how much precum his dick is producing. Once your breasts are freed, he takes a moment to fully take you in and the situation he’s found himself in. His favorite person in the world is grinding on his lap, half nude, and looking at him warmly. He’s definitely fucking dreaming.

He shyly dives his head into your neck and trails soft kisses down towards your chest. The closer he gets to your nipples, the harder he sucks. He wants to leave his mark, anything to prove that this is truly happening. Your weight on top of him and his hands feeling your soft skin is the only thing grounding him at the moment. You grab his ebony locks and guide him to where you want his mouth. As sweet as he’s being, you’re feeling just as needy for him. You grind a little faster which causes him to moan loudly against your nipple. His hand moves from your hips to play with the neglected one. His other hand encourages you to continue your pace on his swollen shaft. Back and forth, back and forth. This is pure bliss for Jungkook. 

Your living room is filled with the noises of pleasure. Anyone unlucky enough to be your neighbor will know that not a single studying tactic is being used right now. But you can’t find it in you to care. All you care about is hearing Jungkook moan as loud as he wants as he orgasms. You briefly consider giving him more than this. Maybe wrapping your lips around his pulsing tip, or even sitting on him directly with no fabric in between. The thought of getting him to ruin his pants is too good to pass up though. You can imagine how embarrassed he might become, but it’s ok, you’ll clean him up. At this you smirk and put your full weight on him, snapping your hips to gain speed.

 He gasps and his eyes widen. Why are you going so fast? At this rate, he’ll… “____ wait! I’m gonna-hngg-I’m not gonna last if you keep going!” You shush him gently and keep your pace. You need to see him crumble under you. He throws his head back as his hips can’t help but thrust into yours. His mouth opens and spills every sound he’s been trying to quiet down. He’s never felt this good in his life. His hand could never compare to this feeling. You lean down and whisper in his, “You gonna cum baby? Cmon Kookie, be a good boy and cum for me. Want you to ruin these pants.” He moans loudly and nods his head rapidly. He lifts his head to look at you as his eyes start to water. “I-I’m-fuck! I can’t! Please don’t stop,” he chokes out. Curses slip profusely from his lips as his moans rise in octave. Until finally, the dam breaks. He spills into his soiled boxers as tears stream down his face and confessions of his love for you leave his mouth. Your body shakes with your own climax and smile bigger than you ever have, you had a feeling he’d be the type to profess his love whilst cumming. He’s such a sweet boy. You tug at the back of his neck to slot your lips onto his.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he pants into the kiss. You both can’t stop smiling, this is everything you’ve ever wanted. You pull back with a line of spit still connecting you two. “I love you too, you know. So much,” you say as you gaze into his black orbs. He’s gorgeous, he has the same thought as he holds you close. His phone suddenly pings from your side. Damn, you had forgotten all about that thing. A message that makes you both simultaneously cackle and blush appears on the screen. 

Tae:

“Hey so I got the stuff for the party, let me know when ya’ll are done fucking or wtv and come over 😒”

[bloop-bl00p]

Rewriting Vaggie because she was done dirty

Angel's backstory and my take if Vaggie was a human.

1. Angel Vaggie:

So, back in the Pilot days, I wasn’t a fan of Vaggie being an Exorcist theory. I was like, Vivienne is obliviously a decent writer, of course, she won’t do something so oblivious! The X on Vaggie’s face is because she lost her eye alive!

I was so disappointed, but I could still work with it… then I was double disappointed when the reveal had no impact on the narrative and all they gave us AMgy Charlie for one scene and fixed the conflict in one episode. 😐

That and the plot holes it created, what plot holes you ask? Well, Vaggie still speaks Spanish which means that she’s still Salvadoran but… Adam named her? Assuming everyone changes their name once they get to Heaven, why do they recruit humans to fight demons? Assuming that there’s like a whole process of giving angelic power to enforce a soul, why didn't they give to the whole army the Kamehameha rip-off Adam has? The Extermination would have been much more faster and deadly if they could just Kamehameha Pentagram Cities.

Most importantly, even if they have enhanced speed, strength, or whatever, if they are all humans, why did they think they were invincible?! Surely if they can kill sinners who are human souls, they’ll know that they can also be killed themselves? Right?! RIGHT?!

I hate the worldbuilding in this show, I hate it!! 🥲

Anyway my rewrite of Angel Vaggie, she won’t be Salvadoran and was fully created in Heaven so no Spanish.

Here’s the thing, the Exorcists were created with Adam’s ribs. A little bit of physiology here, ribs can regrow and repair even when a large a portion of it is damaged. So with Heaven's supervision, creating an army of women with Adam’s ribs was relatively a fast and painless process for the First Man.

You’ll ask me, why make them with ribs? Well, the reason why Eve was made with Adam was a reminder that God created her beside him. They complemented each other, I wanted to do something similar. Adam feels content with The Exorcists because he finally has a group of women who actually listen and are interested in him and not some random with wings. The Exorcists are entitled to Adam and feel worthless without following him around and his orders, a bit like Pearl in Steven Universe, they were created that way.

They still possess some form of autonomy and develop their own personality, not following Adam’s orders just feels odd to them. Then someone actually did it and we all know how that ended.

Whoops that must have hurted.

My take on Vaggie and Lute’s relationship ⇢ here ⇠

So, in Hell, Valtiel (I renaimed her) was totally distraught, she was scared and didn’t know what to do, she was so used to blindly following orders. Sparing this child seemed like it was the worst decision she’d ever made but it also felt right, the poor girl couldn't grasp her feelings correctly at the moment.

She managed to survive a few months in Hell by making a relatively short deal with a local gang to receive aid, in exchange, she used her fighting skills to help them steal food and survive as a whole, she did not develop any sense of belonging to the group and mostly did it for survival.

When her deal came to an end she separated herself from the gang and stayed for a long time in different disaffected buildings with other SDFs preferring to continue her path alone, she felt horribly empty, devoid of purpose without following someone.

Until she saw a star.

The Princess was trying to promote her Hotel on the street, and while Valtiel thought her project was very delusional, she accepted. The Hotel was an old establishment but it was certainly more well-kept than where she used to be, and it was free.

I’m sparing the details, they slowly fell in love and Valtiel projected the toxic dependence she had on Adam to Charlie. While the two truly love each other, Valtiel will need to learn to find herself and not depend on others to live. If she were to have her wings back, it wouldn’t angel's wings but a moth's wings. As a way to metaphorically represent the fact that she changed, like a moth.

She never told Charlie about her past.

I renaimed her Valtiel because it meant “Attendant of God” If you go search a list of angels in Christian Mythology, you’ll notice each of them has “El” as the last syllabus. It’s because “El” in Hebrew means God.

1. Human Vaggie:

Lemme do a research real quick…

Wait a minute..

… y’know. I’m starting to believe that Vivienne is just lazy, obliviously this is one of Vaggie's concepts of backstory, the famous one being that she died in 2014.

But am I the only one who sees the potential?!! Like all things are linked! It makes sense! The very militaristic attitude she had during the Redemption Exercises, the fact that she brought the cast to a war front to build their trust, jeez that’s a missed opportunity to do something that is (to me) much more interesting than a theory made by fans.

So as a good writer, I did a little research because someone had to do it since Medrano won’t, and here is what I came up with.

(If anyone sees any historical mistakes report them to me, I really don’t want to disrespect anyone and I know wars in a really difficult subject to write about. Sorry if I offended anyone.)

Her name is Vanessa she was born in 1968 in El Salvador and died in 1990. Before all of that, she and her brother Carlos were both children of war.

They were separated from their mother during the Salvadoran Civil War, the woman tried to flee with them during a fight between La Farabundo Martí National Liberation Front (FMLN, rebel group) and La Fuerza Armada de El Salvador (FAES, military) but between the gunshot and the terrified civilians, she ended up losing her kids. Vanessa from afar saw her mother getting shot and tried to run away with her brother, he was 5, and she was 12.

The two siblings were later indoctrinated to join the FAES, they never tried to escape as a means to survive since they received food and somewhat clean water, which they originally didn't have in great amounts. However, Vanessa never really supported their ideology and Carlos was too young to really understand what was happening.

The young boy was frail and relatively weak due to his age and malnutrition he only worked in the support staff which was involved in helping to maintain camp operations. Vanessa was also part of it and sticked with her brother as much as possible, but as she grew, she was used to carrying around messages between units due to her being older and stronger, which she hated, it was dangerous and she was disgusted by the idea of leaving her brother alone with these people.

The two of them were victims of SA perpetuated by the soldiers (hence why she’s so wary of men when especially violent ones). Her brother died at ten, due to the poor condition and she blamed herself for it. She eventually died by accidentally activating a booby trap, the explosion sent shrapnel flying, hitting her in the face and causing the loss of her eye she expired due to blood loss at 22.

Vanessa found herself in Hell and tried to survive for a few months both scared and disoriented. However, she still managed to somewhat be fine punching her way inside buildings to steal food and find ways to avoid sleeping outside. She renaimed herself Vaga in reference to the word Vagabundo which means vagabond.

To her, home is where she’s with her brother, without him there’s no home.

Vaga heard words of Carmilla as she started to familiarize herself with English, what she understood was that she dealt with weapons and was a gentler overlord. She eventually met her and they made a deal. It didn't involve Vaga’s soul but just 4 years of working for her, testing weapons and such. Vaga assisted the woman and trained with her daughters, she also learned English and got a better understanding of Hell’s system.

At 26 too, Vaga's deal was done and she decided to distance herself from Carmilla whose door was clearly still open if she needed help. She met Charlie on the street when the Princess was just starting her project, and since Vaga needed a place to crash in, she went in not realizing they’d catch feelings.

Vaga has signs of Complex post-traumatic stress disorder due to being a child of war. This leads her to many emotional outbursts and this feeling of emptiness when she isn't helping, at least she sees it as helping. Her whole life she only managed to survive in a hostile environment by serving others, she may not view it that way but she unconsciously believes the act of Serving is a necessity to keep her alive.

She deeply believed she failed to protect Carlos, so she projected it all on Charlie. This could lead to an interesting conflict between the two, Charlie was highly shielded from the world by her mother, and this hotel is proof that she can survive on her own (in my rewrite at least.) If her girlfriend starts acting like an overprotective parent it won’t do.

While Vaga mostly thinks redemption is impossible, she holds that small tiniest sprinkle of hope that maybe if she managed to get into Heaven somehow, she could see Carlos again and apologize for failing him.

Vaga still hasn't opened up about her past.

More explanation:

Her human backstory is extremely Grave of the Fireflies coded and I admit I recently saw the movie and couldn't help it. It’s my way of coping, this movie destroyed me. Some may ask, why did Vannessa go to Hell, she did nothing wrong.

That’s part of my Heaven rewriting, you see you’re judged by the Seven Deadly Sins and the Holly Virtuous. But they only judge your actions, not why you did them.

Carlos went to Heaven because he was really young and hadn't developed a real sense of morality yet, if he reached 13 he would have gone to Hell. Vanessa died an adult and still helped in the War, even if it was out of her control she still got damned.

Anyway, what do you think of those two backstories?

[adrunkskeletonsduck]

Tʜᴇ Wᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ Yᴏᴜʀ Wᴏʀᴅs | Pᴀʀᴛ 3

➜ Pairing: Aonung x fem!sully!reader

➜ Warnings: kissing, fluff, not properly proof read.

➜ Word Count: 0.9k

➜ Notes: Thank you for 300??? Like this is honestly insane, I appreciate all the love I’ve received for this mini series, y’all are amazing! Please tell me if I forgot any warnings, and a reminder that my inbox is always open for asks!

Also I feel like this is kinda bad...anyways enjoy <3

Pᴀʀᴛ 1 | Pᴀʀᴛ 2 | Pᴀʀᴛ 3

Aᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

Aonung watched from afar as you handed the necklace to Tsireya, a shy smile on your face as she took it from you and examined it happily. She pulled you into a hug with a bright smile, thanking you profusely and complementing your work before tying it around her neck.  

A sense of jealousy bubbled within the boy as he watched the friendly exchange. Since when had you been friends? Let alone friends close enough to gift each other things.  

It wasn’t fair, he thought, that you were gifting things to a practical stranger while shoving him - someone who you knew and had showed very obvious romantic interest in you, or at least to his standards - was being shoved aside.  

He turned away, unable to watch as Tsireya ran her fingers across the finely woven thread and handpicked stones that sat on her neck and walked away.  

Aonung made many more little check-ins on you in the next few days, often times his time was cut short by his own jealousy or sorrow. He was following you around like a lost puppy and although he would never admit it, in the short time you had stopped speaking to him, he had actually come to miss you. You’d been on his mind constantly as he tried to figure out how to fix his actions and make up for his harsh words from the other night.  

“Hey are you even listening?” Rotxo asked as he stopped, planting his feet in the sand and looking at Aonung. 

“What- Yeah of course I am!” Aonung responded, lying straight to his teeth to his bestfriend. He'd only been half listening to Rotxo as he talked about his latest village ‘adventures’. Rotxo opened his mouth to argue that he really hadn't been, when they were interrupted by a body colliding with Aonung. Aonung looked down, a glare set on his face as he got ready to spit venom at whoever had just bumped into him, only for the words to hitch in his throat as he saw who it was.  

That was the other thing, ever since your argument with Aonung, he had been on edge, tense and extra mean. He’d begun picking on your brothers even more, waving off his friends and getting angry over the smallest of things. The boy just didn’t know how to handle losing someone over his own stupidity, and it was eating at him.  

“i’m sorr-” you began to apologize, looking up but you cut yourself off as you saw it was him. Your face fell, jerking your hands back from his torso like he’d burned you and glaring at him. He just stared down at you blankly, unsure of what to say or do – he always felt unsure around you. Suddenly the air felt thick as the two of you stared at each other. Rotxo was quick to pick up on the tension that now surrounded the two of you like an aura, mumbling something about needing to go help his father and running off.  

“Y/N...” Aonung started, and immediately you were pushing past him, refusing to waste your time on another of his bullshit apologies. He grabbed your arm, preventing you from running of and forcing you took look at his pleading gaze and your resolve crumbled. No matter how mad you were at him, your heart still seemed to be in the palm of his hands.  

“What?” you seethed, yanking your arm out of his grasp, “Are you here to tell me how ridiculous I’m being again?” he shook his head, casting his gaze to the ground and swallowing his pride as he prepared himself to be transparent with you.  

“I just – I just really miss you.” He looked guilty and regretful as he spoke, he even sounded genuine. For a moment you wanted to put it all behind you and forgive him because you’d missed him too. You blinked, snapping yourself out of your thoughts and steeling yourself. He didn’t deserve forgiveness after what he’d done. 

“Aonung I already told yo-” he sighed in frustration, mumbling curses to himself. Reaching out, he grabbed you by your forearm and pulled you into him. You stumbled forward, hands placing themselves on his chest, you opened your mouth to ask what the hell he was doing and looking up only to be cut off as he captured your lips with his. Your eyes widened in surprise as he kissed you, your brain short circuiting as you froze.  

Only when you began to feel him pull away did you come back to your sense, slipping your eyes shut and moving a hand to cup his face and pull him back down to kiss him back. He smiled into the kiss, placing his hands onto your waist as he kissed you. Hips molding against yours in a slow flurry of passion, each kiss hotter than the last until he was biting at your bottom lip gently, and then letting it go with a wet ‘pop’ as you pulled away with a small smile.

Pressing his forehead against yours, Aonung spoke,  

“You still mad at me?” he asked, and you nodded with a hum,  

“Very.”  

“I’m really sorry, I just didn’t know how to show you I liked you so I picked on you and I just took it to far, and I have no idea what you're going through but whatever it is I want to be there for you,” he said with a sigh, sincerity evident in his voice as he poured his heart out to you.  

“You could have just told me like a normal person,” you snipped in amusement.  

“Yeah...” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’ll make it up to you though. I swear.” You nodded in agreement, placing a hungry kiss against his lips as you mumbled,  

“Let’s finish this first.”  

@oomietopia@iam-mentally-unstable@yeosxxx@heartueheartue@lola-bunn1@eywas-heir@sseleniaa@shebeast7121scared@a-romantic-twst

[arting-block]

I absolutely love your writing style & your 11th doctor fics 😊 I’m not sure what your opinions on writing poly ships are, but I’m a sucker for some fem reader x 11 and River, and was wondering if i could request something fluffy and sweet with reader thinking her feelings towards the both of them are unrequited due to River and the Doctor being together already, but of course relationships with the Doctors can always be so complicated so who says he has to love just one woman at a time, he’s got two hands for a reason 🙏❤️

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯���� | Eleventh Doctor x F!Reader x River Song

❝𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥. 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥.❞

Summary: You were just a companion, a friend to the two Time Lords. At least, you thought you were.

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love (not really lol), fluffy ending

Words: 6.1K

A/N: I'M ALIVE!!! This request sat in my inbox and I struggled a bit to not turn this into a fully fleshed out story. I swear this was meant to be a smol lil blurb, your honor. I sneezed and then 5k spat onto my screen idk it just happened I swear...Anyways, gonna try to get to my other requests soon 🫡

Ordinary is not in your vocabulary. Nothing in your life ever seemed ordinary the moment the Doctor offered an adventure in his bigger-on-the-inside box and a devilish smile. No one normal would have given their safety in exchange for life-threatening altercations with aliens, monsters, and the worst of the universe. You hated the ordinary, despised the monotony of everyday life.

You took the Doctor’s offer with a smile of your own, delight and mischief to complement. 

Everything was going well as far as you were concerned. Lives were saved, memories were made, and all the time in the world to do whatever. You were happy, plain and simple.

You embraced the unknown, thanks to the Doctor’s influence. Comfortable with the odd and unthinkable. 

At least you thought you were. 

With each adventure comes injuries. Most are minimal that heal in a matter of days. Others leave scars that are forever etched in your skin. Being the self-sacrificing stubborn human you were, you often became a shield to those in need. In this particular case you had gotten slashed by a knife in a tussle. 

It wasn’t deep enough to be fatal, but it stretched from your collarbone to the side of your neck. Thin line of crimson and a sharp sting when air hit it. Annoying, yes, but nothing you couldn’t handle. 

Your traveling companion had a different view.

You groan, “I’m fine, seriously. There’s no need to fuss over a scratch.”

River, beautiful as she is stubborn, gives you a pointed look. One that borders a withering stare but since you’re you it comes off as scolding. 

“You nearly had your head off your shoulders. You’re lucky I was there to intervene,” came her grumbling response. 

Her fingers find your chin to tilt your head up, her face out of your line of sight as you stare up at the ceiling. You take the opportunity to roll your eyes at her need to coddle you. You’re a grown woman for Christ’s sake, perfectly capable of handling yourself. If anything you’ve encountered worse and had bounced back fine. 

Sure, the knife of your attacker came a tad too close to the artery on your neck. Hell, maybe if your reflexes didn’t kick in fast enough you would’ve had a much different night to spend. 

But those hypothetical scenarios were merely that. Hypothetical. You’ve walked away that fight with bruised knuckles and a shallow, 4 inch cut. 

You were fine. Perfectly capable of handling yourself—

River’s finger finds the hollow of your throat. 

Feather-light, just barely touching the skin. You feel her touch up along your neck sending a chill down your spine. Your breath hitched when it stopped just above your pulse point. Something tugs the strings in your chest. 

A dangerous feeling coils down in your core. 

River’s breath tickles your ear, “Breathe, darling. Can’t have you passing out on me.”

As if on command, your body responds eagerly. You force air to leave your lungs all at once. There’s a slight burn left behind and you're sure it’s not due to your withholding oxygen. 

You clear your throat, “Are you going to patch me up Doctor Song?”

It comes off shaky and quiet.

River’s hand leaves your face and you can finally see her. A curve of a smile and a glint in her eyes that leaves goosebumps. 

Your legs involuntarily shift close.

River gives a shrug, “You’re right, just a scratch. No need for fussing. Unless you want me to patch you up?”

You shake your head, “N-No, there’s no need. Thank you for offering though.”

There’s a painful squeeze in your chest. Regret.

River nods understandably, “I’ll be out of your hair then. Give a shout if you need me.”

You watch as she turns to leave. You can’t help but trace the curve of her hips as she approaches the door. Words clump in your throat, an impulse of a thought racing. Before you can act she crosses the threshold, the door closing behind her.

Somehow it stung more than the 4 inch cut on your throat.

Just a friend. Only a friend.

— — —

You tried to put the encounter with River as far removed from your mind as you can. It was just the heat of the moment, a little rise because it’s been ages since you’ve had a romantic relationship. Not that you needed one. You’re perfectly content with spending your time with the Doctor. Who needs romance when you’re traveling the universe with a quirky alien?…A hot alien.

A hot alien who is your friend. Nothing more.

“Is there something on my face?” the Doctor asked, swiping his chin for invisible crumbs.

His words snapped you out of your haze. Back to the present. 

“Wha—No! Sorry, lost in my own head. What were you saying?”

The Doctor presses a few buttons to prepare the TARDIS for travel, glossing over your admitting to not listening, “I was in the middle of explaining why going to Kaythrona would be a bad idea in comparison to Bouble-4A. Perfect this time of year—trees made of crystals and the water is perfect temperature year round. Perfect water, perfect temperature, perfect getaway!”

His smile is that of pure joy. Infectious to anyone, especially you. 

“Yeah, perfect! You have any plans when we arrive?” you asked, leaning against the console. 

You were an arm’s length away. At this distance you could smell the remnants of his earl gray tea from this morning clinging to his clothes. Wild hair that is tamed on the sides, the cut of his cheekbone, and the hint of stubble along his jaw. 

The Doctor whizzes about the controls with flair. Pushing, pressing, and pulling controls that look indistinguishable from one another. 

“Many, many plans. Oh, (Y/N) you’re gonna love the little markets along the coast. We could go to the seafood restaurant—no, the pearl mines! So much to do and lots to show you.”

The Doctor makes his way around back to you, bumping shoulders as he did so. He turns to you, excited to expose you to yet another world. 

You give him a small smile in return. Hoping your demure expression would hide the fluttering of your heart. 

Pulling the engine lever down, you feel the familiar rumbling of the TARDIS. The two of you grab onto the railing in hopes to not fall over. The Doctor reaches for the edge of the console, bracing himself. 

You, caught up in your fawning, didn’t properly latch onto the railing and nearly toppled over. A hand yanks your arm and you collide with a wall of wool and earl gray. 

“Don’t worry I got you,” the Doctor assured, his mouth nearly kissing against your ear. 

His hand migrates from your arm to your waist, pulling you to his side. Tight and secure. The shaking continues, but you’re much too focused on how warm the Doctor seems to be. His hand firm on your side, as if it was meant to be there. Your cheek against the scratchy wool of his coat just inches away from his hearts. 

Just a friend. Only a friend.

You grasp onto his jacket even though there’s a perfectly stable railing right in front of you. 

— — —

Ordinary didn’t apply to your life, so it would only make sense it didn’t touch your love life either. 

River once again joined you and the Doctor for another adventure. Surprisingly, one that didn’t involve intergalactic battles and executing a poorly planned heist. No, she just so happened to be in New York in 2023 at the exact same pizza parlor the Doctor is dragging you to. 

In the past few months you’ve come to realize that the odd feelings in your stomach and the nervous butterflies wasn’t just spur-of-the-moment anxiety. It only manifests when you are within proximity to either the Doctor or River. Anytime they slipped past your personal bubble, you felt the simmering heat in your stomach and a dizziness whenever they got too close. You didn’t realize how the three of you would be joined at the hip until you realized something. 

You love the Doctor…and River. 

It came crawling into your mind until it was all you could think about. Moments across the years playing over and over. You loved them both for so long but you played it off as platonic. It should’ve been obvious with how you hoard their attention and do everything in your power to be near them. Their laughs, praise, and happy moments shared between you set your heart ablaze.

Only problem is that they’re already married. They weren’t secretive either. Always flirting in the face of danger. Lingering eyes and a heated kiss when things got rough. They never hid their affection towards one another.

You were never jealous of them. The ache in your chest came from the fact that they would never share that with you. You were you and they were the Doctor and River Song. They had a history long before you and they seemed more than content with each other. 

River sat in a booth in the far corner of the restaurant. The afternoon sun highlighted her golden hair like a halo. She was writing in that old diary of hers that resembles your beloved time-machine.

The Doctor walked in fast, measured steps while you tried to keep up. His hand on your back, guiding you through the people crowding around the cashier. The closer you stepped the more anxiety pools. 

River looks up from her diary with a wide grin. The one where it crinkles her eyes and makes you lose breath. 

“Hello sweetie,” she says, her words honeyed with affection. 

“Hello love,” the Doctor returns with a giddy smile. 

River’s gaze met yours. Her expression didn’t change, as if she was just as happy to see you. 

“We meet again, darling.”

Darling became her nickname for you as much as sweetie was for the Doctor. 

She’s just flirting, nothing special.

Your nails dig into your palms, “So it seems, Riv.”

The Doctor ushers you into the booth so you sit shoulder to shoulder. He rubs his hands together as he snatched a menu from the pile in the middle of the table. 

“Alright, what do we have here? Some good ol’ pepperoni, some cheese, and lovely sauce. I’m absolutely famished. Haven’t stopped to think, let alone eat something other than the ramen packets Y/N hoards,” the Doctor says. 

You snatched the menu from the Doctor, “So you were eating them! You said they could clog your arteries.”

The Doctor snatches the menu right back, “I said they could clog your arteries, not mine.”

“You made me believe I was going mad! Why couldn't you get your own?”

“‘Cause your room is closer…and less expensive.”

The two of you continue to bicker whilst the menu keeps being tugged mercilessly. Ramen packets changed to snoring habits (you were horrified that the Doctor snuck into your room when you were still in it) and the argument shifted to accusations. Most of which was you calling the Doctor a robber. The Doctor deflects and somehow blames you for being easy to rob. 

River watched the exchange with a tiniest of smiles. The Doctor with a hint of red at his ears, leaning forward. You with pinched brows and sharp words that you don't actually mean. So close the two of you were that your knees were touching and the air between was your mingled breaths. 

“Ahem,” River coughed rather obnoxiously. 

At the sound of her, the two of you ceased arguing. 

“Any louder and you’ll alert the whole parlor,” she scolds.

Luckily the busy little parlor was already loud with its many customers. Loud enough to drown the squabbling in your booth. Though the realization of how you might've looked made you and the Doctor slouch into your seats. 

River narrows her eyes, “If you're done arguing like petty school girls we could hurry up and order because I’m not sharing my food. Unless you wish to continue spilling each other's secrets for all of New York to hear.”

“Nope, we're done,” you say. You shoot her a grin in hopes to hide the fact that, yes, you will continue later.

River’s eyes shift to her husband, who avoids her stare.

“Yes, done-zo. No more arguing,” the Doctor affirms. He leaves out the “For now” at the end. 

River knows the little omissions. She doesn't voice it, instead rolling her eyes.

— — —

Lunch went by smoothly, all things considered. Food was served, pizza was eaten, and stories passed the time. The Doctor retold your fantastical adventures with some minor exaggeration (leaving out the mishaps as well). River bragged about her many archeological discoveries and Indiana Jones-esque quests to find legendary artifacts. 

As they retold, shared, and laughed at each other's fortune, you sat in your seat with sealed lips. As the time passed, the two of them leaned forward with biting grins. It was as if magnets in their chests pulled them nearer. 

You stayed put because in place of a magnet was a lump of sorrow that was weighing you down. You watched their banter go on and on, leaving you out. Their words turned personal, intimate with inside jokes. It was clear that although River and the Doctor weren't exclusive by any means, their love runs deeper than most. 

Their love for each other ran deeper, felt stronger only for them. 

Not for you. 

It hurts to watch them. It hurts to love them knowing they will never feel the same. You’re just a temporary blip in their long lives. They already have one another. Perfectly content with having you just as a companion. Because that’s all you are to them. In this moment, trapped in your bubble, you can see just how in love they are. In the middle of the table their hands are inches away from each other. The tips of their hands moving at a snail's pace towards the other, until they fold in where they meet. They don’t seem to notice the collision of hands, still conversing with one another nonchalantly. 

It’s an innocent gesture. Sweet and pure with its intentions. Perfectly their hands fit, you don’t think they could form against yours. They were perfect for one another. Witty mouths, playful eyes, and brilliant minds. 

Husband and wife. Vowed for one another. 

Your eyes don’t leave their hands, transfixed by your own spell of deep longing. 

The Doctor laughs at something River says. It’s a soft chuckle that pulls his lips and shakes his head. River stares unabashed with eyes so full of love that it tugs the strings in your chest. 

It makes you sick.

“I need to use the bathroom,” you blurt out. You felt too close, too warm in the booth. You need to get away from them both. 

The Doctor and River glance at one another. A pointed look that could hold entire conversations. Moments ticked by before the Doctor scoots out of his seat to let you pass. You all but sprinted out of the booth and made a bee-line to the bathroom. 

It was a small, dank space with dark brown walls and one lighting fixture in the middle of the ceiling. The harsh lighting and tight space was far from cozy and inviting, but you are glad to have made it out. Your breathing became more shallow, tears started to burn into your eyes. You stare into the warped reflection in the mirror. 

Tiredness smudges around your eyes. Your lower lip is cracked from the constant tugging and swiping of your tongue. Edges of your shirt wrinkled from how tightly you were holding onto it. 

You don’t know how long you stared at yourself. Lines around your face blur as the tears start to flow. Down your face, into the valleys of cheeks, and into the porcelain sink. Another falls, then another, until you can’t help but sob into your hand. 

— — —

Minutes tick by. The pizza being shared was now specks of crumbs. 

Your companions sit idly, waiting for your return. 

“Is it just me, or is (Y/N) a bit quiet today?” the Doctor mused, looking behind him to see the closed door of the bathroom. The red sticker on the lock gnaws at his mind. 

River rubs her thumb over the Doctor’s hand, “Why don’t you ask her? She’s your companion.”

The Doctor turns back to her, “Why don’t you ask her? Everytime I see you two, you can’t keep your hands off one another.”

His words don’t have any malice. If anything, it was more of a jab at how horribly River hides her affinity towards you. Always doting on you with small trinkets and tight hugs. The soft drawl of her “darling” seemed much too intimate, too loving to be platonic. 

River’s smile is sharp, her words quick, “Says the man who whimpers whenever she wears a tight dress.”

As quick as her words came, the image of you a week ago floods his mind. 

Silk gloves, the shine of your skin, the color of your lipstick. It was a gala out in a different galaxy and the Doctor found it hard to resist your puppy eyes. 

You begged him to dress up, to match with your dress. He mutters, whines, and begrudgingly says yes. Not because he didn’t want to go, but because he knew of the outcome of seeing your dress. 

A deep blue, nearly black, with delicate lacing and gemstones. Simple, lavish, and complimented your body beautifully. The neckline perfectly snug against your chest, bodice hugging your waist, and when you turned around—

The whole of the Doctor’s face flushes a bright pink. He sputters, tone harsh, “I do not. It’s called being flustered. I’ll have you know that I—stop laughing.”

The Doctor’s plea falls on deaf ears as River let out a choked giggle. Her hand covers her mouth, but the edges of her smile still peek through. Seeing the Doctor flustered over a girl never fails to make her laugh. 

“I was…only teasing!” she let out between giggles. The expression the Doctor made, all grumpy like a cat, made her sides hurt. 

The laughter dies down. River dabs her eyes and massages her tired cheeks. The Doctor’s hearts swells at her joy, even if it was at his own expense. 

The Doctor looks over his shoulder once more. Your door is still locked with no one in line. An uneasy feeling lodges in his chest. Your usual bright, happy attitude was strangely absent. A few times you chimed in, relaying your own version of a story the Doctor purposefully miscounted. 

You weren’t sad, at least the Doctor didn’t seem to think so. Empty was a more appropriate word. Stuck in your own head thinking God knows what. 

“Did you hold up your end?”

River’s questions shocked the Doctor out of his own thoughts.

The Doctor narrows his eyes, “I don’t recall making a bargain with you. I thought we agreed that if we were drunk that it doesn’t count.”

River rolls her eyes, “I’m talking about (Y/N). I told you to talk to her about…” she gestures to the space between them. 

The Doctor mimics her movements, confusion still present in his face, “What’s this? What did I agree to?”

“Us! You agreed to talk to (Y/N) about us. You told me that you would drop hints about it,” River scans the Doctor’s face for any recognition. She sees the realization dawn on him, and the guilt settling in. River can’t help but curl her lips into a snarl, “You didn’t do it, did you?”

“How am I supposed to?” he threw his hands up in exasperation, “It’s bad enough as it is that I get all light-headed and fuzzy when she’s near me. You hear me? Light-headed and fuzzy. I didn’t think that was possible—no I was certain it wasn’t possible. At least with you, you made all the moves from the get-go. What if she doesn’t like me back?’

River shoved her leg under the table, earning a strained “ow” from the Doctor, “You stupid oaf! Of course she likes you! Smartest man in the universe, yet you couldn’t use your big brain of yours to notice her signals? A cyberman could figure it out for goodness sake.”

The Doctor slumped back into his chair, dumbfounded. He would be lying if he said he didn't notice how close you were with him. But you're close with everyone. Always friendly, open with your emotions. 

River was the one to bring up a potential relationship. Nudging the Doctor towards you, trying to get him to open up. Every time he mentions anything romantic, it never seems to come out right. Words jumble in his head and his tongue knots in his mouth. On the off chance he does something “romantic”, you would always—unwaveringly—call him a friend. He has to pretend that the word doesn’t make his teeth grind against each other. 

The Doctor swirls the colored straw in his glass of soda. The ice clinking against glass and the residual carbonation sizzling out. 

Ice. Cracking. Sizzling out into the inky depths of the cola, almost black in the dim lighting.

Something in his brain clicks.  

— — —

10 minutes passed before someone banged on the bathroom door. 

“Can you hurry up man! You’re holdin’ up the line!” an angry, muffled voice yelled. 

You furiously wiped your face, collecting all the remaining tears with paper towels. A couple splashes of water to soothe your puffy eyes before you unlock the bathroom. You were greeted with a cross, stout man with too much hair on his chest and not enough on his head. He grumbled something before making his way around you. No one else stood behind him. 

The restaurant died down with only a few tables left occupied and the setting sun spilling through the windows. You drag yourself towards the booth the Doctor and River were situated in. Your steps get slower as the distance gets shorter. Dread builds into you; your mind conjures the image of their exclusion towards you. 

Voices, familiar and warm, could be heard. They were more hushed than before, perhaps due to the lack of other customers to drown out their noise. As you round a corner, you see River and the Doctor hunched towards one another. You can only see River’s stern expression before her eyes immediately spot you. Relief sags her shoulders. At her expression, the Doctor whizzed around to greet you. 

You stopped in front of them, seeing their ruffled clothes and fidgeting body language. You were gone for a few minutes, so why did they look…disheveled? River’s usual glossy curls were frizzy around the edges; wild strands sticking to and fro. The Doctor’s shirt looked wrinkled and bowtie skewed at an odd angle. 

Did they…? No, you weren’t gone for that long.

“Sorry I took so long. Long line and no toilet paper,” you lie with a monotone voice. You didn’t put any energy into making it believable, hoping they would get the hint to not question you. 

The Doctor sprang up from his seat with an expression that seemed much too happy to be innocent.  

“Change of plans. River had just informed me that at this very moment, there is a comet passing by in—” he checks his watch, “ —Yosemite, California. Super beautiful, gorgeous color. Isn’t that right Riv?”

River nods, fast and eager, “Sure is, sweetie. I’ve had enough of the city, wouldn’t you say?”

Their odd behavior rang alarm bells in your mind. A prank? You doubt River would be the type to follow along with a malicious prank. The Doctor, however…

You let out an exhausted sigh, “Could this wait later? Tomorrow?”

“Nope! Can’t wait, lots to see!” came the Doctor’s reply. 

The Doctor placed his hands on your shoulders to steer you to the front door. Your feet nearly tangle together, practically stumbling down the empty street with River not too far behind. You find your footing just fast enough so that you can speed walk without the Doctor trying to knock you over. 

“Guys, slow down. Doctor, I can walk just fine y’know,” your shoe gets caught onto a piece of sidewalk, making you jump slightly. It doesn’t deter the Doctor, still hellbent on shoving you down the street. You turn to your side, eyeing River, “Could you please explain to me what’s going on? Why are you guys acting weird?”

River’s cherry red lips stretched to a smile (Did she just apply it?), “Spoilers.”

Your friends’ odd behaviors made you question if you’re being kidnapped by shapeshifters. Not an impossible scenario, but would explain why they’re suddenly so hyper. The Doctor made a sharp turn into an alley. You see the TARDIS with its vibrant blue against the red brick of the buildings beside it. 

Something’s wrong. 

“The TARDIS was parked a few streets down. Why is it here?” you questioned, distrust lacing your voice. 

The Doctor sent a worried look towards River, who looked caught off-guard. 

“We…thought it was best to move it closer so you didn’t have to walk far,” River explains. It comes out quickly. Too rushed and uneasy to make it truthful. 

The Doctor gave a smile, too wide for your liking. 

You cross your arms over your chest, “If you don’t spit it out already I’m not getting into the TARDIS. I’m honestly a bit freaked out right now.”

“We, uh…” the Doctor moves his hand, trying to come up with something, “We can’t tell you.”

You scoff, looking at River to see if she will spill. 

River shrugs, “You’ll have to come inside the TARDIS to see.”

You wrestle with the idea of accusing them of being aliens with perception filters. It could explain their odd appearance and eagerness to get you to the TARDIS. Were the real Doctor and River Song trapped somewhere. Is this a trick of the mind? 

The Doctor hand tugs yours. Secure and warm. His expression calms, “It’s a surprise,” he indulges. 

River unlocks the TARDIS, holding the door open, “A big one.”

The Doctor and River take your hands, interlocking them. The action sends your mind blank. Soft, warm. They hold tightly, flushed against your clammy palms. Your heart stutters, finally registering what’s happening. You’ve held their hands many, many times. It wasn’t unusual to see you link hands with either of them. 

This. It feels different. 

They all but pulled you inside, the destination already on display and the engine ready to go. 

— — —

Cool air kissed your face, greatly contrasting the warm New York temperature. Grass met your feet instead of concrete. Stillness you’d always associate with nature instead of the bustle of busy streets. 

“Is the blindfold really necessary?” 

You fight the instinct to rip the cloth off your face, but your hands are preoccupied with being held by your companions. River to your left, the Doctor on your right. Their other hands find the small of your back, guiding you forward. 

“Almost there, darling,” River assures. 

You bite back a groan. One foot in front of the other as best as you could. Each one was wobbly; unsure of debris blocking your path. The hands along your back tighten, trying to steer your uncoordinated body towards the destination. 

You smell the familiar scent of firewood in the air before you hear the crackling.  

The walking stops and hands leave your body. You hear the rustling of fabric and stray giggles of the Doctor. River hushes him. 

Your fingers twitch at your side. The cotton of the Doctor’s bow tie is soft yet strangely secure on your head. You're trying to piece together what they’re trying to show you. Nothing seems to add up. Is it a holiday? A prank? Was it a birthday?

You hear footsteps and feel two hands on your shoulders. 

“Keep your eyes close, yeah?” the Doctor whispers, tugging his bow tie off your eyes. 

You sigh, “Doctor, what are you trying to do?”

The Doctor doesn’t respond. You don’t know his facial expression or any sort of clue towards his motivations. But you feel the gentle hold of his hand. Warm palms picking up your fingers, thumb tracing the peaks of your knuckles and the valleys of your skin. 

Almost like…

“Ready,” River announced, a bit distant from where you are standing. 

The Doctor leans close, his hair tickling your temple, “Open your eyes.”

It took you a few blinks to adjust your eyes. The inky darkness of night contrasts the warm, inviting fire light. 

River stands next to a picnic blanket with the most lush pillows you’ve ever seen. Movie snacks are piled in the corner and in the middle a neatly wrapped box with an obnoxious bow. In front of the picnic blanket was a small, orange fire surrounded by a ring of rocks. The flames crackle loudly, providing warmth against the lowering temperature. 

“What…How? Why?” Was all you could muster. You take a few steps closer, unsure of how to process this. 

You focus on the box. Dark wrapping paper with shining gold stars to accent. The flickering fire made the glitter on the stars twinkle. The bow nearly swallowed the top of the box with ribbons cascading down. Your eyes flicker to the pile of snacks. Your favorite snacks. Even some ramen packets. 

The Doctor spoke up, “Hope you’re not too full from the pizza. Though, come to think of it, we may have left the drinks back in the TARDIS. River suggested wine but I’m already buzzed from my own endorphins.” His words were a bit fast, almost nervous. 

“But why? Is there something special about today?” you ask. 

River smiled, “November, 1826.”

There’s something familiar about the date. It tickled your memory, but nothing clear. 

“Our first adventure together. The three of us,” The Doctor clarified. 

It felt as though the Doctor’s words swept all air from your lungs. Of course, how could you forget? 

You are certain it was years ago. Keeping track of time on the TARDIS is finicky at best, but you felt the time pass as evident by the scars on your skin and fine lines dotting your face. You were still wide-eyed and naive, not yet comprehending the dangers of the universe. The Doctor was still odd and new to be around; still getting used to your presence at his side. 

There was a galactic cruise ship, nearly swallowing Pluto in size. Parts of the memory are hazy in your mind. You forget if it’s you that urged the Doctor to go or the Doctor dragging you out. Whatever the case was, you found yourself onboard and immediately lost, tipsy from the wine given. 

River found you then. It wasn’t ‘til later that you realized that River was actually seeking you out. In your eyes, it was the first time seeing her. To her, she had already had a tone of familiarity when your name rolled off her tongue. 

Turns out River had organized a heist to return stolen goods that were aboard the cruise ship. Fighting and mishaps ensued until the Doctor managed to hoard the goods aboard the TARDIS and return them to their rightful spots. 

At the end of it all, the three of you had just so happened to be above the Earth at the same time as Biela’s comet. 

You remember your legs dangling off the edge of the TARDIS, dark splotches along your legs where bruises formed. The Doctor and River lean against the doorframe, silent in their awe. The first of many mishaps and adventures the three of you would create. 

They took you to the exact day—the exact time—

“Why?” you whispered. Everything came rushing all at once. Stolen glances, longing stares, the uncomfortable beat of your heart. Memories of the three of you or just intimate moments with either of them. You swallow the lump in your throat, “I just…don’t understand.”

The Doctor took your hands once again. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. 

“We love you (Y/N). For a while now, actually.” 

His delicate words hit you like a gust of wind. Your head snapped up, eyes wide and fearful. The Doctor’s usual happy facade is gone, any humor wiped from the planes of his face entirely. His hands grip onto yours a bit harder, enough to ground you. 

After a few moments, your brain finally stills. Anxiety still grips your muscles and tightens your chest, but you manage to sputter your thoughts out coherently. 

“I love you guys too,” you grin against the onset of tears starting to fall. You didn’t move your hands from the Doctor’s, so you simply let them cascade down your face. You shakily inhaled, continuing, “For so long I thought you guys wouldn’t feel the same. Even now…”

Two hands appear at your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the salty tears. The Doctor smiles and you don’t mistake the glisten in his eyes as well. 

You turn towards River who stands near the blankets with the present pressed tightly against herself. The fire gives her golden hair a bright orange hue, surrounding her with a divine glow. The way she looks at you made your skin flushed; so full of adoration, as if you were the most breath-taking sight. 

Stepping towards the blond with the Doctor, you try to meet her gaze head-on. You stopped once you got close enough to see the dilation of her eyes. For a second a flicker of something else flashed in her green eyes. 

“Breathe, darling,” she teased. At her command, you let out the breath you were holding. She hands you the box, never breaking eye-contact, “Consider it an anniversary gift.” 

The choice of words makes your eyes widen. The box seemed a bit hefty in your hands. You gave it an experimental shake, feeling something large and solid moving. You gripped the end of the ribbon and gave it a tug. Silky ribbon buckled, folding into itself until it completely unraveled and slipped from the box. Pulling open the top you saw a large blue book nestled inside. 

TARDIS blue, you noted. 

River takes the empty box while the Doctor ushered you onto the picnic blanket. There were no words embellished that gave any indication as to what the book was about. Flipping the cover open, you were met with a mostly blank page, save for the text stamped in the middle:

“For the love of our many lives. A companion, friend, and most importantly, the reason the Universe doesn’t seem so cold.” 

Tears nearly blurred your vision, but you managed to wipe them away to flip to the next page. 

A collage of photos filled the pages. Some were candid, others in black in white, most of them had you in them. There were pictures you had captured on an old film camera you snagged when you were stuck in the 70s. You were quite surprised to see snapshots of you doing mundane activities. Your head was turned away from the lens, completely focused on some task in front of you. There were a few pictures with you and River and some with all three of you. 

Years of memories stored in the pages of the book. Some far back to the earliest days of your travels. 

The rest of the night blurred into happy tears and hearty laughs. You snuggled between the two Time Lords flipping through the photo album filled with your fondest memories. 

The insecurities felt in the cramped bathroom in the middle of New York seemed so far away. Years of anxiety curdling in your stomach finally bloomed into something sweet. They loved you. They wanted you. They planned everything out for you. You felt it in their gaze, their warm touches. 

“Tonight,” the Doctor whispered, “It’s all about you.”

As Biela made her visit, shining brightly amongst the twinkling stars, you realized that somewhere out in the sky, your past selves were observing the same scene. 

Staring out into the vast expanse of space, you hoped the love that swelled your heart could be felt millions of miles away. That your shared laughter transcended the atmosphere and carried to the passengers of the TARDIS floating above Earth. 

You hoped that somewhere out there, your future selves are looking over, sharing this experience across time and space. 

[colddelusionsheep]

So, this is my start of yandere hunger games, and before y'all read this. There are some things to take note of.

Everyone romantic (and y/n) is 18 or older. I am not going to mention age unless the story requires it.

This is going to be ocs x reader, and it will be based on the hunger games(with some differences.

The reader will also be fem.

And that is it! I hope you enjoy, and if you do, feel free to like and reblog(dni if you are under 18 tho)

2nd Part

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The reaping

Humming softly, you buttoned up the last two buttons on your dress. The light green was worn with a few stitched up parts where the fabric use to be ripped. It was old and has seen better days, but even with those details, it still was the nicest thing you owned.

You hoped you could wear it again someday. A wish that you had each year during the reaping, and so far it came true each time. People would comment on how lucky you were to avoid the reaping each time. Weeping love ones of the reaped would curse your name and say you somehow cheated to save your own skin.

You don't blame them. With how many times you have sold your name to this game that is hell. You should of been reaped a long time ago.

Even you didn't know how your name wasn't pulled. The suppose luck that people would attribute to your was no where to been seen on any other day of the year. It was only on this one. However, if it was seen on any other day then maybe you wouldn't be so closed to starving each day.

Reaching down, you pulled your worn socks to your knees. Patches were half hazerdly stitched onto them. Soon you would need new socks and shoes for the winter. You would have to decide on which. Shoes seemed to be the priority in your mind. What good were socks without shoes anyway.

Giving one last look in your mirror. You let out a deep sigh. All you had to do is survive one more time. Then you would be forever free of this life. Once you were free from the reaping, maybe you would finally be accepted in district 12.

The walk to the town square was always a silent one. Each person was getting ready to die. You always thought that the suspense was the worst thing about this. The knowledge that it could be you was nerve wracking to say the least.

Passing by one of your neighbors, you could Hear them mutter under their breath. "I hope it's you."

The rumors you got use to, it was just part of your everyday life by now. Being the outcast was a role you took with stride. What you didn't get use to was the fact that many of those that live close to you wished you dead.

Just like they wished your parents dead, and it was a wish they got. Maybe they would get this wish also.

The check ins went by like a blur. A yearly routine that you would never have to do again. There was peace in that thought, and that peace would surely give you the strength to make it through this. No matter how false it may be.

Taking place behind Susie Mack, you took note of how nice her dress was. The blue color complemented her bright red hair. She even had matching blue ribbons in her two braids.

Late at night, you liked to imagine what it was like to be her, to be Susie Mack. Almost everyone loved her. She was bright and cheerful. You supposed it was easy to be bright and cheerful when you had a full stomach and a loving family. What you would give to be her. To be loved and beautiful. To not have to worry on whether you would have shoes for the winter or food in your stomach.

You hoped that she wouldn't be reaped, simply for the fact that you knew if she was. Then the entire district would come for you. You don't want to imagine how they would punish you this time.

The escort of the Capital made his appearance, and just like every year. His fashion sense was..... lacking.

A mix of fine fabrics made up his outfit, along with a mix of patterns. You were sure that his clothes had every color known to man. Diamonds littered his neck on their choker that they wore.

You couldn't imagine that he were comfortable. Tight and stiff silhouettes seemed to be the main trend in the Capital this year.

As the escort made the same speech that they did every year. You could feel the anxiety of the crowd. It was getting close to the pulling of the names.

You could practically feel the heart beating of each person here. Looking around, you could even see some of the younger ones silently crying.

The two large crystal vessels were brought out. Each full of names. If you did your math right, yours should be in there 80 times.

"Now, as always, ladies first." You never noticed how gentle his voice was. It reminded of the stream your parents use to take you too. The sound of the water would always make sooth you matter how upset you may of been. It was just too bad that that stream turned into a raging river.

"Our female tribute is." He, as always, paused for dramatic effect. " --/n"

Ringing, that's all you could hear, it wasn't till someone shook you that you could fully understand what was said. It wasn't till the peacekeepers roughly pulled you out of your spot that you understood that your wish was finally ignored. It wasn't till the dammed Capital escort kissed your cheek, and spoke of how lucky you were that you understood that luck was just a lie. That the odds were and would never be in your favor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And the 1st part of the yandere hunger games is done! Hopefully I will have the next part soon. I did write this part very late at night so the are probably mistakes but that is okay.

Also, sorry I was gone so long, school really took everything happy that was in me away. Good news tho, I am graduated!. My blog is going to be open to asks and all, but for right now requests are going to be closed untill I feel more confident in my writing. It should be a lot more active now however!

That's all for right now! Love y'all <3

[spookyjuicefiction]

Violets & Plums: Astarion/Tav, Part 1

Got an idea for an Astarion fic that I just need to start working through and here is as good a place as any. Part 1 of ?

_______________________________________

He had been wrong about her. And he hated being wrong.

He had seen her on the nautiloid, stuffed into a pod and infected with a tadpole just as he had been. He recognized her when he spotted her trudging up the path toward him away from the crash site. He himself had just clawed his way out of the wreckage and was getting his bearings when she and the she-elf emerged from the smoke. An easy target, he thought, quickly preparing a ruse to trap her. She fell right into it, and he was ready to kill her - that is, until their parasites connected.

When he agreed to team up with her and Shadowheart, it was because he planned to use them as human shields should he meet any attackers. Sure, they had the common goal of finding a healer to remove the parasite, but they certainly had no value as serious allies as far as he could tell. Even only being a vampire spawn, they were slow and weak compared to him. Not to mention stupid. He was the obvious choice to lead the pack.

Then why was it that he was standing at the edge of the campsite alone, scowling to himself as the rest of his merry band of companions passed around a bottle of wine and enjoyed each others' company? And why was she the one in the middle, with every adoring eye on her?

Yes, he had certainly underestimated her. Within hours she had every one of them wrapped around her magical fingers, and within a few days they had all deferred to her as their de-facto leader when decisions needed to be made. She seemed to have a gift for reading people, knowing exactly how to charm and persuade them. Her skills of deception even rivaled his own, though he was loathe to admit to his admiration of them.

His pointed ear pricked toward the campfire as new sounds arose; she - Tav - had started plucking a tune on her lute and leading the group in song. He rolled his eyes. Of course she sings, too. How irritating.

It was truly annoying how easily she gained the others' favors. Wasn't he supposed to be the one so well-versed in flattery and charisma? Yet she deigned to engage with them in ways that made his skin crawl, like listening to Wyll's obviously dramatized renditions of his escapades as The Blade of Frontiers. Or allowing Gale to ramble on about his cat - his tressym, as the obnoxious wizard was so fond of correcting them. Shadowheart seemed to like her just because Tav left her alone and didn't ask her too many questions, but chuckled along at all of her jokes at the others' expense. She had even gained Lae'zel's trust after asking her for fighting tips and electing her as the group battlemaster in case of combat. And Karlach took nothing at all - the two have been practically joined at the hip (from a fire-safe distance, of course) since the tiefling joined their camp. She must be hiding something, he thought. No one can be that good at gaining peoples' trust without good reason. He would know.

She tried to read him, too. She made little jokes and comments under her breath only for him to hear, trying to be conspiratorial. She complemented him often, trying to appeal to his vanity. But most obnoxiously, she went toe to toe with him in battles of wit. Any time he threw loaded grenade of snark and vitriol at one of their companions to entertain himself, she threw it right back. It was infuriating, being undermined and bested at his favorite game. That was probably why the others' liked her so much, because she was fond of shutting him up and making him seethe quietly in the back of the line. Nobody else liked him.

Good, he thought. Best to go it alone anyway. Never needed a friend before, don't need one now. As soon as I get this bastard out of my eye, I'll be gone faster than a rat in Cazador's dungeon.

The thought of rats unpleasantly reminded him of his thirst. Typically, he waited until the others were asleep to go off and hunt so they wouldn't suspect the truth about his condition. But seeing as they were all singing (except Lae'zel, of course), he guessed no one would notice if he stalked off.

He took no joy in his kill tonight, feeling grumpy as he continued to brood over his distaste for Tav. Two hundred years thinking of nothing but Cazador and he was finally free, only to spend every moment bemoaning his luck at being stuck with the spellcaster. He drained the boar of its blood and left it carelessly on the side of the path, electing to wander around for the remaining nighttime hours rather than returning to camp. He was too restless to trance anyway. And she was there. She probably conjures butterflies in her sleep and dreams rainbows, the foul beast.

"The hells is that?" asked Karlach, squinting at a large lump on the side of the path.

"Looks like a boar," said Wyll, going over to toe it with his boot, Tav close behind. "It looks... it looks like it's been drained of blood. There's no stain around it. I can't even see a wound."

"That's odd," remarked Shadowheart, quirking an eyebrow. Astarion shifted on his feet, agitated. Shit. He should have taken more care to cover his kill last night. Looking around, he started as he realized Tav was staring right at him.

"Oh, who cares, it's only a boar," he said impatiently, looking quickly away from her, unnerved. "Surely there are more interesting things to investigate. Look, I see goblins mounting an ambush through the gate up ahead. Let's go and kill something." He stalked off, not waiting for a reply and removing his daggers from their sheaths.

"Something on your mind?"

FUCK. Astarion couldn't remember the last time someone had snuck up on him. He had been pacing in a clearing just outside the camp, wondering if Tav somehow knew his secret. He was debating with himself whether he should abandon the group and set out on his own when her voice - the last voice he wanted to hear - startled him. Rounding on her with daggers drawn and his hair standing on end, he fixed her with his most murderous expression.

"Do you make a habit on intruding on people's private contemplations?" he hissed angrily.

"You know better than anyone the advantage of catching someone off-guard," she replied coolly, folding her arms and shifting her weight.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm as he lowered his weapons. He loathed her completely in that moment.

"Only wondering where you were. Looted some good food for supper from those goblins, if you're hungry." She tilted her head. "Or perhaps you've already eaten today."

They regarded each other cautiously as her words hung in the air. He was certain that she knew. Was she afraid he would hurt her, or the others? She could tell them his secret, and they would all turn on him. So what did she want in exchange for her silence? Was she shaking him down?

"I'm not hungry," he replied slowly. Slowly, he raised his empty hands, daggers now sheathed. A gesture of surrender. "I'm happy to keep watch while you all eat. I will ensure no harm comes to anyone."

She narrowed her eyes, seeming to understand the duality of his words. He was promising not to drink from them. After a beat, she replied with a stiff nod. He allowed his tense shoulders to drop. She was promising not to tell them. For now.

Satisfied at their new agreement, Astarion spent the next 2 days coming up with a new plan to manipulate Tav. With her being the the leader of their group, it seemed prudent to ensure that she would protect him should the others begin to turn on him. Much as he despised her, he conceded that she was his best chance to finding a cure for the parasite, and thus his best chance for true freedom from Cazador. If she was already willing to hide his condition from the others, it would not take too much more effort on his part to get her to play completely into his hand. All he had to do was try a little seduction. Even she couldn't best him at that game.

But even has his plan took shape, he could feel his thirst, an ever-present beast clawing up his throat, undermining him. It made him irritable, weak, and unfocused. Instead of charming her, he more often found himself arguing with her, stabbing her with vicious insults about her sorcery, her class, and even her looks. He didn't really even mean them; she had proven herself an adept spellcaster in both battle and everyday application, she seemed to come from a fine, middle-class family in Baldur's Gate, and her looks were perfectly adequate to the average person. Not beautiful enough to tempt Cazador, maybe, but enough that Astarion caught Gale's eyes lingering a little too long a little too often. For some reason, Astarion found that infuriating.

He had lobbed a particularly nasty mockery at her earlier in the day after she had insisted that they all run in to a burning building to rescue some helpless fool, so he was quite surprised to find her clearing her throat outside of his tent that evening.

"Come to shoot a firebolt at me since you didn't quite singe all of my eyebrows off this afternoon?" he inquired bitterly.

She rolled her eyes. "Can I come in?"

This was unusual. No one had ever asked to enter his tent before.

"I suppose," he replied cautiously, and she shouldered past him through the flap. He followed her back inside and she turned to face him, crossing her arms defensively.

"You've been a real arse these last days." She said it with a finality that left no room for argument. He poked at her anyway.

"Well, thank you," he broke into a smile and a shallow bow. "You should see me when I don't have a parasite in my head."

"I've had enough," she continued, as though he hadn't interrupted. "This ends now."

"What are you going to do?" he hissed, joking manner aside as he closed the distance between them threateningly. She was going to tell the others. "You'll be dead before you reach the door."

But as usual, the moment he had the upper hand, she pulled the rug out from under him. "I'd rather you not drink so much as to kill me, since I'm offering it out of the kindness of my heart."

He never could quite get his footing with her.

"Excuse me?"

"If you drink some of my blood, will you stop being such a devil's shite?"

It took considerable effort for Astarion to clamp his jaw shut and rearrange his features to mask his shock.

"You want me to drink your blood?"

"Want is a strong word. But I'm willing to make a small sacrifice for the good of the group if it'll shut you up long enough for us to find this Halsin without your moaning and whining."

"I do not moan and whine," he protested petulantly. "And I absolutely do not promise to shut up. But it will almost certainly improve my mood drastically." He licked his lips at the thought of it, eyeing her pulse point.

"Very well then. I suppose I'd better lay down in case I pass out."

Astarion watched motionlessly as she lowered herself onto his bedroll and swept her hair off her neck. His body seemed unable to move, yet his every instinct told him to tear her open right then and there. At the same time, the sight of her on his bedroll made him feel slightly nauseous - not because of her, but something akin to shame stirred in his abdomen. Just another victim for him to ruin. It was almost too easy. So why the sudden... guilt?

"Can we get on with it? I don't much fancy falling asleep in your bedroll."

Composing himself, Astarion dropped to his knees with a flourish and bent his body over hers. It was horribly intimate, and he could sense her discomfort. He lavished in it.

"Comfortable, darling?" he smirked at her and winked, and she rolled her eyes.

"If you accidentally kill me, you know that Karlach will make sure you burn alive. So, not a drop more than you need."

"Of course, my sweet. No need to worry. Only a teensy little sip and I'll be out of your hair."

She looked like she didn't believe a word, but she turned her head with a sigh, exposing her neck to him.

"It'll only hurt a pinch," he breathed as he lowered himself to her pulse point. He was struck for a moment by her scent - violet and plums and something smoky - before he bared his teeth. He felt her take a breath, and then he sunk his fangs in.

They moaned almost in unison, her in pain, and him in pleasure, as he began to drink. Gods, it was perfect, even better than he had ever imagined it could be. He could've sworn that her blood tasted like violet and plums as it splashed over his tongue. She was clutching his arms for support, and he felt his hand clamp down on her hip to hold her in place. But she didn't try to get up, laying stiffly beneath him as he suckled her lifeblood.

He could kill her. It would be so easy. She would feel like she was falling asleep, and he could drink her as dry as the boar on the side of the road. The image of it rose in his mind; her, pallid, bloodless, slack-jawed. No more stupid singing. No more butterfly dreams.

He retracted his fangs from her quickly, as though she had burned him suddenly. Her grip on his arms had weakened significantly, and her head seemed to loll on her neck.

"Oh dear. Don't pass out, darling."

He scooped his hand under her cheek and turned her face toward him. Her eyes were placid and unfocused, but she was blinking like she was trying to maintain consciousness. Already she looked pale. He bit back the resurgence of the guilty nausea and pulled a pillow under her head.

"Just a moment, love. We'll get you all sorted." His tone was light and airy as he rummaged in his pack for a healing potion, but he was more unnerved than he would've liked to admit.

"There we are." He uncorked the stopper and held her head up, tipping the potion down her throat slowly so as not to choke her. After a few deep breaths, she brought her hand up to her forehead and rubbed her temple.

"I said 'not too much', you arsewipe," her voice was weak, but clearly irritable.

"I can't help that you're so delicious," he cooed, relieved that the potion seemed to recover her somewhat. He noticed that her fingers were trembling, and a shiver wreaked through her whole body. Sighing, he pulled a thick blanket up around her. Her eyes on him were daggers, but she didn't push it off. "Just relax here for a bit. I won't be sleeping anytime soon, after that. It was quite... invigorating."

She eyed him curiously. "You say it like you've never done it before."

Sharp as ever. How did she always know?

"I... haven't. You're my first. My first... thinking creature, that is." He smirked at her, wiggling his eyebrows. "I bet you didn't guess I was a virgin."

She didn't take the bait. "So what did you eat?" Her fingers had stilled against her temple; he had her full attention now. He didn't like how her scrutiny made him feel. Somehow, even though she was so weak she couldn't raise her own head, he was the one feeling vulnerable.

"Oh, rats, flies, roaches, whatever one could find on hand 'round Cazador's dungeons," he said with forced nonchalance, examining his fingernails. "Cazador is - was - my master. I am his vampire spawn." He couldn't bear to look at her, sure he would see pity in her eyes that would make him want to claw his skin off. "How did you know about my condition, by the way?"

"You aren't as subtle as you think you are." His head snapped up at that, insulted. "And I've spent some time studying the condition. One of the guildmasters was hoping to imbibe a potion with some of the properties of vampire blood."

"To what end?" Astarion asked, curiosity piqued.

This time it was she who smirked. "The official story was that the research was focused on creating a more potent healing potion, since vampires are known to have such rapid regeneration. However," she pushed herself up gently on the pillows, "I always suspected they were hoping to create a potion of immortality."

"Well, that would be something," Astarion mused. "However did they get a vampire's blood to experiment with?"

"They didn't. It was all theoretical. I was trained to learn to recognize a vampire if I spotted one, with the hope of obtaining its blood for the research. With permission, or... by force." She looked as though the idea left a bad taste in her mouth. His face must have given his thoughts away as well, since she looked at him and chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to steal your blood. I doubt it would have worked anyway."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well," she sat up further, the color beginning to return to her cheeks, "for one, I don't believe vampirism works in the way most mages think it does. It's not some kind of magical curse imbued with some mysterious arcane properties. I think it's... more like an illness. Like a plague, that can only be passed one way."

"Well, it certainly feels like a curse," Astarion intoned bitterly. "And if it's an illness, I've never heard of a cure."

She shrugged. "It's only a guess. But it is a little exciting to meet one up close, after all my research." She was smiling at him earnestly now, again making him feel uncomfortable.

"You're a strange creature. I just drank your blood and you're excited. One might think you have... odd predilections." He grinned wickedly at her.

She chuckled. "How are you feeling now? Less cranky?"

Astarion took stock of his body as he climbed to his feet. "I feel strong. I feel..." he trailed off a moment, searching for the right word. "Happy."

Tav clamored to her feet as well, with far less grace. She wove unsteadily for a moment, and he caught her waist to ensure she didn't pull his tent down in a fall. They were standing quite close again, and he felt his guard drop for a moment.

"Thank you," he said quietly, "for trusting me. I... this is a gift, you know. I won't forget it."

"I suspect neither will I," she murmured, smiling at him once more. "Well, good night then."

"Sweet dreams."

He watched her walk slowly and tiredly back to her tent on the other side of the clearing, head reeling with everything that had just happened. She had offered herself to him, but not in the way he was used to. She had offered her blood, and she had trusted him to take it. But why? What is there for her to gain?

She wanted him placated, clearly. Perhaps she was as annoyed by him as he was by her and really did just want to shut him up. Maybe she was mounting her own manipulation plan, forcing him to be dependent on her blood to do her bidding. He hated knowing that if she offered again, he would greedily accept. But what reason did she have to trust him so easily not to kill her, when all he had done since they met was insult her? What was she reading about him that he didn't even know himself? The questions plagued him as he hunted that night, wishing every sip of animal blood was hers. He had a taste for it now, and it ruined him. If he had thought about her constantly before, he was doomed now.

As he lay down in his bedroll to trance, he raked his hand over his face. Then, he began to laugh bitterly. All around him, the only thing he could sense was aroma of violet and plums.

Part 2

[luckybunny555]

Gwen patching you up after a mission

You and Gwen had just finished a particularly difficult and demanding mission, so when you both finally arrive to your apartment, she helps you take care of your bruises and scratches. You return the favor, taking care of her too

🕷 Gwen Stacy x Spider!GN!Reader 🕷

Warnings: mention of injuries, cursing, not very angsty, more like fluff actually, reader lives alone because I wanted to?? but not necessarily 18+, in my head it makes sense. SFW ofc

A/N: reader is kinda chaotic and clumsy?? because I was writing some HCs for this type of reader when I had the idea for this scenario so... it's kinda complementing my HCs post(that I haven't posted yet). Also, I didn't specify the relationship she has with the reader, so you can choose whether or not you guys are dating or something else, but it is romantic(cute feelings and kisses yay!). Proofread and written at 3am so idk if this is good but let's gooo.

She might’ve never admitted it out loud, but Gwen loved being paired with you for missions. That was one of the ways she found to keep an eye on you and make sure you were safe during dangerous fights. The two of you had slowly gotten closer with time– you met her through the Spider Society, of course, and despite her attempts to keep her emotional walls up and high, you managed to find a way into her heart. And when you did? Oh boy, she could not let go of you.

It was her instinct to become more and more protective of you, given everything she's gone through. Besides, that's what happens when you feel a deep connection to someone. She wants to protect you, keep you safe, make sure nothing bad ever happens to her precious spidey. And you were very aware of that. It was obvious, from the way she would find any excuse and moment to casually touch you, to how she'd stand closer to you whenever Miguel's anger over some mishap in a mission was starting to get out of hand, or when she'd keep her gaze on you from a distance whenever you were up to some trouble, always ready to rescue you when needed. You could tell how protective she was over you, and it made your heart grow warmer each time she showed you.

But even with all the protection she could offer you, keeping you completely unharmed was a very difficult task. You were a free spirited person, guided by your curiosity and passion, and there was not a single person in the entire multiverse who could get you to settle down and chill out. In other words, getting into trouble was a daily occurrence to you.

You had a tendency to dive head first into danger, and your passion for your "spider-duties" and keeping people safe encouraged you to jump into action without second thought. And of course, your approach wasn't always successful. This time wasn't very different.

Miguel had assigned you both to a particularly difficult mission. This anomaly you had to contain was unlike your usual villains, which is why you were caught by surprise and unprepared. Even though it demanded more effort than your average missions, you and Gwen were actually able to knock out this unconventional villain, but unfortunately, not before it did a number on both of you.

The nasty wound on your knee that caused you to limp was enough reason for her to not leave you unsupervised for a single moment. She refused to let go of you when heading back to the HQ, carefully helping you walk as she slung your arm over her shoulders to support you. No matter how much you protested(not much anyways, because you enjoyed how close she was to you...) and tried to convince her your bruise wasn't that serious, she simply wouldn't listen. She had to make sure herself that you were fine, and she wouldn't rest until she took proper care of your injury.

"Gwen, it's not that bad! I can still walk, I'm just slower than-"

"Shut up, you got hurt and I'm gonna take you home to make sure you're fine. Forgive me if I don't trust your words, troublemaker, but with the frequency you get yourself hurt, I have reason to worry," she tells you in a scolding tone, but you know she's not serious, seeing the hint of a smile on the corner of her lips, causing you to chuckle.

"Aw, you're worried about me?" you tease her, your gaze fixed on her as she narrows her eyes at you, playfully pretending to be fed up with your attitude. You laughed to yourself.

After a quick word with Miguel to make sure everything went okay with the mission, she insists on taking you home. Even though she had some injuries herself, she pushed them to the back of her mind, focusing on making sure your wound was properly taken care of before she worried about her own.

So, once you crawl inside through your window with her help, you allow your body to fall on your bed, letting out a loud sigh as you dramatically throw your arms up and cross them over your eyes. Gwen lets out a chuckle while watching you, your playfulness soothing her nerves since you don't seem to be too affected by your bruised knee. At this point, she knew your apartment like the back of her hand, so she hurried to get the first aid kit you kept in your bathroom cabinet.

Coming back into your bedroom, she sat with her legs crossed on your bed, placing the box beside her. She positioned your legs over each of her thighs, sitting between them so she could take proper care of your knee.

"Use the Hello Kitty[or whatever character you'd like] band-aids this time," you say, jokingly pretending to be mad at her, uncovering your eyes to look at her.

"Oh, you think those band-aids are gonna cover this wound? Cute," she teases you, laughing as she takes a few items from the first aid kit.

"It's not that bad," you dramatically let your arms fall on the bed, causing her to look at you. She knew she could get overly worried at times, but judging from your expression, you didn't seem mad at her. "I mean, usually it's a lot less worse, though. But did you see that villain? They were huge!" she chuckles, listening to your rant as she starts to clean the big scratch on your skin.

You kept rambling about the mission, as you usually do, letting Gwen do her thing. And in the back of your mind, you noticed how nice it felt. Not the wound, obviously. But how gentle she was when taking care of you. You had kind of a taste for danger, whether intentionally or not, but you were glad to have someone so patient and caring to patch you up every time you needed. And you could handle her totally non-threatening scolds, neither of you taking it seriously, knowing it wouldn't keep you from getting yourself hurt again.

You also started realizing how attentive she was. I mean, she was very focused on your bruise, carefully cleaning it to prevent any infections. But she also seemed to pay attention to your whole rant, complementing your comments with her own experiences from the mission. Most people would've tuned it out now, or wouldn't be able to focus on both things.

Your talk started to slow down, and as you fixed your gaze on her, admiring her focused expression, you noticed your breaths getting deeper and slower. You couldn't help noticing how pretty she looked. The bedroom was only dimly lit, the lamp on your bedside table illuminating your wound enough for her, but you could faintly see her freckles, and her soft smile that had appeared during your conversation, and how her hair was covering part of her face, her head tilted, eyes on your bruise...

Realizing that you had gone quiet for a moment, she looked up at you with a curious expression. Her hands stopped cleaning the scratch on your leg when she noticed the way you were looking at her. You weren't aware of it, of course, but she felt her heart skip a beat in that moment. "Why are you staring at me like that, you weirdo?" she joked, letting out a nervous chuckle. You hesitate for a moment.

Propping yourself up on your hands, you shift closer as you keep your gaze on hers. Her breath hitches with your sudden movement, surprised and curious about your intentions. "Because you look really pretty," you confess, trying to ignore how fast your heart is beating. Her eyes slightly widen at your words, and you can see a bit of her tooth gap as her lips slightly part when she lets out a subtle gasp. You brush a strand of hair away from her face, allowing you to have a better look at her, and it sends a shiver down her spine. "Thank you for putting up with me, and always taking care of me when I get hurt. Which is often," you let out a low chuckle, admiring her eyes as you straighten your seated position, your faces only a few inches apart.

Gwen's mind went blank for a moment, thoughts clouded as time seemed to melt while she was seated in front of you, closer than she would've dared, but not close enough for her liking. Your words make her scoff, slightly smiling as she shakes her head, "Yeah, more often than I'd like." She drops the cloth she was using to clean your scratch, allowing her hands to rest on your thighs. "It would be great if you could be more careful, but we both know that's not gonna happen," she quietly laughs, her gaze traveling across your face, observing all your features, that she adores so much.

You giggle, shaking your head from side to side, "No..." a playful grin appears on your face, knowing this scene would keep repeating itself, in different ways and settings, but reveling in the idea that she'd still be there for you. "Good thing I always have my princess charming to catch me right in time, right?" you say, tilting your head slightly to the side, wrapping your arms around her shoulders as you bring her closer. The grin that appears on her face matches yours, and she can't help but chuckle at your choice of words.

"Yeah, you always do," taking one last look at your eyes, she says before closing the distance between you two. Her hands move towards your waist, bringing you even closer as she kisses you. Even with your lips connected, you can feel the both of you smiling.

When you two pull back, breaking the kiss, you notice the softness and admiration in her gaze. You can only assume your eyes express the same for her. Breaking the silence, she turns her gaze to your bruise once again. "Alright, stop distracting me now, your knee still needs bandage," she tells you, and you let out a loud sigh as you let you body drop on the bed once more, but unable to hold back your giggles as you continue to gaze at her.

She quickly finishes patching you up, placing a large band-aid on your knee before reaching out to grab one of the colorful pens you keep on your bedside table. She draws [whatever character you like] over it, remembering how you wanted her to use your cuter, but unfortunately smaller, band-aids. "Done, are you happy now?" she asks, teasing you.

Sitting up again, you notice her drawing on your bandage, which makes your eyes light up. To her, the look on your face was the equivalent to cartoon characters having stars in their big, wide eyes, and seeing you like that made her giggle. You quickly embrace her in a tight hug, only pulling back to pepper kisses on her face, causing you both to laugh.

"Thank you, it looks super cute," you say with a sweet smile on your face. Despite the darker setting, you could almost see a slight shade of pink on her cheeks. "Did you get any bad bruises too?" you ask, concerned about her state as well, even though she hadn't complained about any injuries.

She shakes her head, a small smile still on her face as her expression softens at your gentleness and concern. "Nothing a shower can't take care of," she replies, reassuring you. You nod, slowly pulling away your arms from her shoulders.

The two of you had gotten used to this. You enjoyed having company in your apartment, so you'd always invite her over, sometimes for a sleepover, and sometimes it would last a few days... You got used to her borrowing your clothes, eating your food, sleeping on your bed(because you refused to let her sleep on the couch, even though she said it would be fine). It was nice to constantly have her as a house guest.

So you get up, carefully as to not hurt your knee again, and make your way towards your closet, finding clean, comfortable clothes for her to borrow. Handing them to her, she gets up from your bed and plants a kiss on your forehead as a thank you, heading to your bathroom to take a shower.

While you wait for her, you notice the sounds coming from your stomach, and you assume she might be hungry as well. Since you have time, but not a lot of energy since you got back from a mission, you decide to make a quick and easy meal just for the two of you.

Right after her, you take a quick shower, feeling more comfortable and warm. You bring the two bowls with food to your bedroom, sitting down in bed with Gwen, your backs against the headboard as you turn on the TV to watch something while you eat.

Despite the intensity of the day, it feels relaxing to simply enjoy a simple meal in bed, right beside her as you laugh at the TV screen. For these few moments, there's no Spider duty, no problems that need to be solved. She could finally relax, knowing the both of you were safe and okay.

After a while, both plates finished and now in an almost laid down position, the tiredness from the day started setting in. A few yawns were let out by both of you as your eyes wanted to drift closed, but neither of you wanted to give in, enjoying each other's company too much to let your exhaustion get in the way.

Unable to resist any longer, and partially because you wanted to feel Gwen closer to you, you finally decide to turn off the lights. Laying down and finding a comfortable position, you wrap your arms around her, bringing her down to lay next to you. You gently hold her face, laying her head on your chest as your arms wrap tightly yet comfortably around her.

Gwen was a bit surprised by your actions. Of course you had already slept in the same bed before, but being this close to you? That's a new one. It took her a moment to really adjust to it.

She started noticing how softly you were holding her, even though your grip was tight enough to keep her close. It made her feel comforted and wanted. And when you started playing with her hair, oh, she melted under your touch.

Almost instinctively, she buried her head deeper into your chest, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You could tell what it meant for her to be held like that, so you placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, glad to offer her comfort in return for how caring and gentle she was with you.

Truly, it meant a lot for you too. You might be reckless, like, 90% of the time, but being able to witness this, to notice how all of her muscles relax while you're lovingly holding her, how her breath starts to slow down and get steadier with each second, it was like being bathed in sunlight. As you felt both of you drifting asleep, all you wished for was that this moment would last for as long as it could.

[dadfemme]

Someone to Lose - Chapter 3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 | Interviews

a03 // wattpad

You and your team have compiled a reasonable list of interviewees by the time another body shows up. Narrowing down a legitimate pool of witnesses and potential suspects had been a tall task with a tight-lipped town like yours. Lips that got even tighter around two new faces. Knowing this you had Emily and Luke stay at the station and do other digging to better profile the suspect.

Regardless of their roles, however, the agents put their time in. There wasn’t a single person working on the case who didn’t average a 10-12 hour work day. Everyone pulled their weight. 

Despite your different roles you’d found that you and Emily crossed paths often. It started brief and unsubstantial. Quick brushes by with polite smiles when you were headed to different corners of the small station. No different than running by anyone else. Then one evening you’d caught her pooling over some old files and dropped her a cup of coffee on your way to your office.

At first she’d barely registered you enter, so focused on what she was reading. Her eyes eventually landed on the lidless paper cup, coffee still hot enough to release a bit of steam.

“Do I look like I need it that bad?” she laughed. 

“Finish up and get some rest, Prentiss,” you tossed over your shoulder on your way out by way of answer. You didn’t stay for her to test it to see if you made it right. You knew you had. You paid attention to that stuff with your guys, and she was no different. Certainly not.

Since that night Emily seemed to go out of her way to engage with you. She’d come and lean on your doorway to talk about the case, or whatever, really. You particularly enjoyed her big smile while she spoke with you, which contrasted nicely to her usual stoic appearance. You came to look forward to her popping in, but you tried your best not to look forward to it too much. That would be silly. So you looked forward to it a very normal and regular amount.

Anyway.

Back to the present: The new body and the interviews. Right.

By the time the station got the call, you’d had paperwork to finish so you sent the boys to go secure the scene and Alvez tagged along. You found you really liked Luke. He’s what you imagine your guys will be after a few years. The boys were earnest and incredibly hardworking, but they lacked the type of easy confidence that Luke had that came with age. A sense of comfort in his role, which just emanated from him.

With the men gone, you and Prentiss were on interviews. Although she was a newcomer, you figured a stranger in uniform along with a familiar face like yours made a perfect pair to interview. Nothing more unassuming than two women just asking a few questions. As you’d hoped, the two of you blew through potential witnesses and potential persons of interest together with ease. You were surprised at how well you complemented eachother. Transitions between each session were seamless, and her questions were either perfect segues for yours, or they were so clever even you hadn’t realized what she was getting at any more than the individual across the table had until she’d caught them in an inconsistency.

Eventually the guys returned, and with the last individual interviewed you all found yourselves at 6pm with a full day under your belts.

“Okay I’m calling it,” you announce. “Our days have been too long. We’ve put our time in so let’s get out of here.”

“You guys going to the bar tonight?” Joe asks

“Oh man I forgot it’s the third Wednesday of the month,” Danney answers, rubbing his eyes in a weak effort to get the tired out. Joe was less than deterred.

“Let’s go! Feds, you too. It’s great. The drinks are dirt cheap, the beer comes by the pitcher, and the music is entirely questionable.”

At Prentiss’ confused expression you speak up, “It’s open DJ night. Anyone over 21 can come and have a go at the music. It’s rarely great, but always fun.”

You watch one eyebrow quirk before an amused smile slowly spreads across her lips.

“Well, how can I say no?”

Some of the guys let out a little whoop and soon everyone’s packing up their bags and heading for the bar.

-

The night was exactly as promised. Various individuals either overly nervous or entirely too cocky got up to the small DJ booth in the bar (read: black folding table) and was given 30 minutes to play their sets.

Despite the rather clunky music the lot brought to the bar, the group was having a great time. You always love to spend time with your team, and having the agents with you made that no different.  You sat back and sipped your second beer from the communal pitcher while Garrett sang as off key as he could muster to a Cher house remix. Toward the song’s end your gaze drifts to Emily, and not for the first time that night.

Now you know yourself. You’re a very happy, very flirty drunk. So if you keep glancing toward her, well that’s only weird if she catches you while wearing what the boys call your “lovergirl eyes”.

You can’t help it. Her big smiles at the absolutely abysmal music. Her easy banter with Luke and the guys. It all feels like it happened so fast. Like getting acquainted to a new town and new people was so easy for her. You were impressed and in awe. Truthfully, the little crush you’ve developed was inevitable. You’d resigned to it that day on Ana’s property when she apologized, staring at you like you were something worth looking at.

You watch her stand and head toward the bar, and almost immediately the bartender sets two bottles in front of her. While she waits to run her card you approach, putting your elbows on the sticky bar next to hers, your shoulders touching.

“When I said it’s on my tab tonight, I meant it.”

She smirked at your words, not yet looking at you. Thin fingers move to pluck your glass from your hands to soon replace with one of the cold bottles she bought.

You don’t even think to fight your grin. “Attentive. Cheers.”

Your bottle clinks with hers as the two of you take a swig. Now she’s looking at you, her eyes studying, and there’s something else in them you can’t quite read.

“I didn’t know the FBI made them like you, darlin. Shame you have all that hidden by a suit.”

The two of you are broken from your bubble to find Becks Lammers. The man peaked in high school and deals with it with alcohol. He’s hit every woman with the misfortune of dating him. Tonight, he reeks of cigarettes, and is clearly having difficulty keeping his eyes focused as he tries to waltz off after his shitty come-on.

You watch her nostrils flare, and you stand, before she has a chance to swivel around.

“What did you just say?” Your growl is punctuated by a grab to his arm, bringing him back to face you. You nearly see red.

He scoffs, “Lighten up, Sheriff. I was just kidding, right little miss agent?” He goes to cup Emily’s shoulder in that patronizing way men love to do.

Your grip on his other arm tightens and he stops midair.

“Touch her and I’ll book your ass so fast for that tax evasion that you think you’ve been hiding it’ll make your head spin.” You step into his space, so close you can smell the alcohol.

“In fact, I’ll do one better, I’ll bring you to the station myself and I’ll make you regret ever stepping foot in this bar tonight, Lammers.” You stand there, solid and unwavering.

His eyes go saucer wide.

“I-I was stupid for saying it. It was nothing. I’ve had too much to drink. How about I just get goin’.” He turns on his heel and skitters out of the bar.  

*

Emily sits and observes the interaction, her dark brows raised. It was new to be on the other side of someone defending her against some scummy guy making a pass. On her team she’s used as the bait, cursed to grin and bear it for the sake of the case. Up until tonight she’d more or less resigned to it.

“Is he really evading his taxes?” she asks once the door slams behind the man.

“Unsure.” The sheriff snorts. “Just seems like the type.”

Before Emily can sit on the interaction further, she feels Jane grab her arm.

“Come here,” she says, as Emily feels herself pulled out of her thoughts and onto unsteady legs. She allows herself to get walked halfway across the scuffed floor before she has the thought to ask, “Wait what’s happening?”

"We’re going to dance.” The blonde says simply with that brightness Emily found herself so fond of as of late.

“It’s a slow song,” she continues. “Everyone’s already dancing, even Alvez.” The blonde tips her chin to her right, and sure enough there he was, posted up with a woman who could very well be his grandmother’s age. So wrapped up in the sight, Emily missed the sudden proximity.

“Come closer,” comes a softer tone. “We can’t be the only ones not on the floor.”

By this point, Emily’s hand had already been taken and wrapped around Hailey’s waist, and the realization makes her nearly go rigid. Not wanting to give off her nerves, she takes a deep breath and relaxes just in time for a strong arm to gently pull her closer. A lot closer. Her free hand clasped by the Sheriff’s, they begin to sway.

On one hand, Emily is grateful for the cheek resting against hers. It allows her own reddened cheeks to stay hidden from Jane’s eyes. On the other hand, the closeness has resulted in a warmth that began deep in her stomach, that crawled through her chest, and spread up to where the tips of her fingers joined the younger woman’s. This isn’t good. Emily Prentiss does not get distracted on cases. She focuses on her breathing still, allows her eyes to drift shut. It’s so unlike her to react to someone else this way. She can’t even think of the last time this has happened.

Jesus, Emily. You’re an adult. Get a hold of yourself.

*

Oblivious to the brunette’s turmoil, you find yourself comfortably wrapped in her arms until the song ends, marking the conclusion of open DJ night. She doesn’t seem to meet your eyes once you separate, so rather than dwell on that you instead focus your collective attention on ensuring everyone gets out of the bar and starts for home safely.

Neither of you register what that means until you turn to one another, alone, lit only by the nearly full moon shining over the gravel parking lot.

This time she catches your eyes, but she’s got that unreadable expression again, and before your alcohol addled brain can figure out exactly what it means the brunette suddenly steps closer into your space. Her breath is against your lips. One, two, three, puffs of air. The tension is unbearable and the second you watch those big brown eyes flit down to your mouth you’re helpless to do anything else but close what distance remains between the two of you.  

You hadn’t allowed yourself to imagine this, but even if you had it wouldn’t have been anywhere near to what it feels like now that it’s real. Tipsy or not, she’s real, and she’s kissing you.

Her lips are soft and she tastes faintly of the alcohol, but underneath it’s just her. You’re so busy running your fingers up and through thick hair that you faintly register hands settling on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to hers. Her tongue dips into your mouth, followed by a sigh, and a whimper against your lips that shoots straight to your core.

You’re helpless to the moan that escapes your throat, which seems to snap Emily out of whatever spell she was under. The agent steps back abruptly. Your gaze falls to her heaving chest before you move back up to her eyes.

“I don’t think I meant to do that,” Emily starts, eyes building up to panic.

And you laugh.

You laugh and nod, bringing your fingers up to your cheeks. 

“Oh god. Am I blushing?” you snort.

Emily’s brow is furrowed, but her shoulders relax slightly, her earlier expression replaced by a far more perplexed one.

When she stays quiet you continue, “The night got away from us, don’t sweat it. Go home and get some rest.” You squeeze her arm by way of goodbye and you both head for home.

It didn’t need to be a big deal. You’ve kissed women before. Prentiss is attractive. It’s nothing more than that. More accurately it can’t be more anything than that.

You’ll deal with this in the morning. You’re both professionals. You can pretend this never happened. For tonight, though, you’re going to drift off to sleep thinking of the softest sounds of pleasure that had escaped one Emily Prentiss.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Jimin - Muse (2024)

3/5 ☆

I thought it'd get me several days to come back here with some thoughts on Muse, but it proved it's not necessary.

Who as title track makes complete sense. We're still into 90s nostalgia, but it's a recipe that works. Not just in kpop, but pop in general. Looking at the charts, it paints a pretty clear picture for the last couple of years. Add the zoomer idea of a what a Y2K aesthetic is like and we get the recipe for today's music and concept. Repeat, reuse, recycle. How fitting for postmodernism.

Who is a really catchy tune, with lyrics easy to remember and sing out loud. A tad more commercial-sounding than Like Crazy, but that's Muse overall anyway. The truth is, I have the song on loop (streamers can't come for me, lol). I think Jimin's style of singing and the melody itself are a good fit. Lyric wise, it's sort of basic, but this is pop music made for mass consumption. I don't mind it. It's also radio friendly and definitely has the potential for summer hit, but I'm 99% sure it won't turn into one. BH won't move a finger to send it to radio and it's another song that will fall victim to fandom mass streaming to chart high for one week. I've seen this all before.

It's also a shame to have this released when an artist is away, without being able to properly promote it. In my non-expert opinion, it could have been released as a single a few months later after Face and scratch the rest of Muse or keep it in the drafts.

As to the other songs, perhaps Rebirth (Intro) is the only other song on the album that has something to it, it stands out a bit more and it also bridges the two albums, despite the connection being sort of flimsy.

Having Sofia Carson on Slow Dance had brought nothing to the song. It could have been a full Jimin track all the way. Her style of singing does not stand out and I find it a failed pair because there's no contrast or voices complementing each other. Jimin can sing just like her. If a collab is really wanted/needed/necessary, then I'd wish for a pairing that also makes sense vocal-wise.

Be Mine is ok, but it sounds too much like that one TXT song and I simply can't get over past it. It's afro beat and latino influence which has been all the rage in the past few years, which Hybe has been pushing a lot. It explains the song.

SGMB and Closer Than This were previously released and I'm not covering them again.

I think it's difficult for me to not make comparisons to Face, considering both albums were produced around the same period, without much time left in between them. One is simply more cohesive and has a depth that showcases a first solo attempt, while the other one is clearly going a more commercial route with less of a personal signature.

Despite Muse being promoted as another conceptual album, I find that umbrella to be a bit forced given that the theme of finding love is really a generic one. Perhaps way too generic with not much individuality. Does it show Jimin's vocal range? Yes. Does it show him trying various genres? Yes. In this case, perhaps Muse is a bit similar to Golden in some aspects, with the difference that Jimin gets producing and writing credits in 5/6 songs. So his involvement is greater, but the scope of the album is in the same category as Golden, which is another production that had this LOVE as an overarching theme. But without much more to it that would make it stand out lyrically. The focus on both is genre diversity and vocal capability.

In short: I like Who (I also like Ace of Base songs and all those silly 90s pop songs, so my music taste is most likely considered bad, but I don't care). I think Muse overall is an amalgam of whatever is trendy at the moment, without being able to truly stand out and say more about Jimin, apart from his capabilities as idol/performer. Perhaps that was the point too.

P.S. My inbox has been closed for anonymous asks since I reblogged a few days ago my post about using lyrics as clues for personal life. It seems that it invited homophobia and I won't have that here.

I'm keeping it that way for now because I'm sure my personal "review" on Muse will either be seen as an invitation for people to either bash me for not thinking it's the album of the year or to be seen as an opportunity for others to talk shit about Jimin, Who and the album overall. I found that usually there is no middle ground with kpop stans/army/Jimin stans, etc.

[tiajk]

Black coded!Karasuno manager headcannons

Warnings: cursing, reader flirting with every fine man because she can, chaotic karasuno, karasuno being readers found family, fem reader, miss reader is poly and ain’t afraid to show it, some sappy feelings, probably spelled people names wrong

It’s chaotic with the mfs all they do it scream, shout eat and play volleyball

You did those things to but they’re more annoying

Tanaka and nishi always finds new ways to make you know your the goddess you are

The first years are intimidated by you even tuskki (it depends on the day)

the third years love you ur probably there favorite underclassmen

kiyoko and you are close like knit tight she loves all that you do for the team and it makes her job a little easier she know that when she leaves the boys will be in good hands

Okay anyways you’ve always known you were that girl like your a pretty black girl in japan who wouldn’t want you

While everyone in karasuno agreed with you so do other schools

which is why tanaka and nishinoya are on guard duty half the time

so guy tries to come ask you for your number *cough* Terushima *cough* they will and i repeat they will start barking at bitches screaming at the top of there lungs “NO WAY IN HELL YOU CAN HAVE OUR MANAGER SHES OURS” it pisses you off to every end especially if there fine (which is all because all hainaut boys are gorgeous)

they hate when you are flirting with the other teams at camps *cough* Bokuto and Akaashi* “Bokuto your spikes are so good you have to teach me” while giving him heart eyes which the boy is eating up because a pretty girl flirting with him and complementing his skill SOLD

you couldn’t forget about the pretty boy setter for Fukurōdani you would always tell him “Akaashi its great that you look out for bokuto like that” he would get the hints but didn’t act on them and you were a patient women you could wait “you and i should hang out i wanna get to know you more” you weren’t lying at all…

Now the boys were fumming you would give them water instead of your own team YOUR THE CLUB YOU SIGNED UP FOR they were but hurt except for suga he knew you had to claim them because you had told him that older men just hit different

anyways when yachi had joined you had welcomed her with open arms as always our girl yachi was scared out of her pants your were intimidating you had a resting bitch face and it scared her to be honest but when she saw you smile she got scared about how pretty you were (i cannon yachi is Bi you can’t change my mind)

You loved enoshita he may have been on the quieter side but he was a good friend when you really needed him you had majority of classes with him so of course you guys had a tight knit he’s the reason why you joined the club

hinata and kageyama you loved them but they were actually kinda stupid all they would do it scream ans yell at each other they were like your children when ever you would confront them about there behavior they would come up with so many excuses “Y/n BUT KAGEYAMA WHAT BEING ANNOYING” “I WAS NOT YOU SHITHEAD” rubbing your temples as they continued to argue “if you don’t shut up i will never bury you food again” They shut there asses right up after that (rich y/n?!?)

your third years were your favorites asahi, dachi, suga, and kiyoko we’re like your parents they always made sure that you were eating correctly, had enough money, and that your mental/physical health was good you are their favorite and nothing can change there mind they do get upset when you go after people there age they know it’s not a big difference but they just wanna make sure your safe

Dacahi almost had an heart attack when you told him when Shiratorizawa match was about to start that you wanted him to put you on with ushijima and tendou (he did only because they asked about you)

yams was a angel sent from heaven he was so kind you loved playing with his hair it was so soft and fluffy and it was like a stress reliever you were trying to set him up with tsukki he’s not slick i know damn well he has a crush on him and vise versa tsukki was a piece of work you always had a response for his snarky ass mouth

tanaka, *sigh* tanaka hairs dog number 1 has never and never disrespected you once he knows if he did that you would twist his ass inside out but in all seriousness he loves you it can be romantic or platonic but he would die for you defend you against any creep or someone that makes you feel not worthy he’s your hype man he’s one of your best friends you love this hot sister too he hates when you bring it up tho

Nishinoya guard dog number 2 he’s short ass hell and clings to you like a dog he has been on thin ice when he’s trying to flirt with you but he knows his boundaries he always wants to show you new tricks he comes up with but mostly rolling thunder

COACH UKAI not gonna lie you thought this man was one of the hottest men alive and you weren’t wrong he was honestly surprised when there was 3 manager but he didn’t care more help he secretly liked you the most he lets you have free meat buns and sometimes stuff from the shop but he makes you swear not to tell anyone

Takeda he made you so happy he was like your sweet older brother he always grateful that you love it with the club you always try to bring kk spare money because you know how hard he believes in the the boy and would do anything for them

in conclusion you love your “job” and the boys love you you wouldn’t know what to do without them

[severus-snaps]

new headcanon: snape & karkaroff

So this might only be new to me but I guess them's the breaks when you (re)join a fandom after a few decades but

Snape and Karkaroff knew each other reasonably well - very well, given that Karkaroff is happy to hound him and hover around him at the drop of a hat, he named Severus in his trial some years prior so they must have spent some time together (and most DEs were split up or anonymous to one another, for various reasons).

Obviously at the time that they're in GoF together, Snape is in his early-mid 30s. Karkaroff is presumably older, at whatever age that a gentlemen goes from having black hair (during his trial 14 years earlier) to white hair (at the time of the Tournament). (Google informs me that "Half of all people have a significant amount of gray hair by the time they turn 50." so presumably he's about or over 50, as his hair is now entirely white). He is also a Headmaster by this point, which suggests a certain level of maturity (given the general ages of the deputy/headteachers at Hogwarts, anyway, and wizarding lifespans).

So (and please do correct me if I'm wrong bc I haven't read GoF in ages so I'm working off of the chapters I've gone through recently) in theory Karkaroff could've been the Dark Arts teacher OR the headmaster at Durmstrang already, by the point Snape graduates from Hogwarts himself.

In a world with little to no higher education, but mostly 'on the job' and similar work experience counting for something, where might Snape have gone to get the 'CV experience' or an apprenticeship he needs to get the DADA job he later applies for?

Durmstrang, of course; where they teach the Dark Arts, and not just defence. I don't think it's a leap that Lucius and/or one of the other Death Eaters or Slytherins would've known Karkaroff before Snape did, and made a connection for Snape to study/apprentice there.

And where did Snape learn to teach? From the very man who outright favours Krum, at the rude expense of other students, perhaps?

“Back to the ship, then,” he was saying. “Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?” “Professor, I vood like some vine,” said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully. “I wasn’t offering it to you, Poliakoff,” snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. “I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy — ”

It's giving:

[Snape] was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus’s cauldron into a twisted blob... “Idiot boy!” snarled Snape.

(Also, such a Snape complement)

Minor evidence for this also includes the fact that Karkaroff calls Snape "Severus", meanwhile Snape calls him "Karkaroff" - a sign of respect or formality, how Snape always calls Dumbledore, 'Dumbledore' - or a sign of dislike, like how Snape is "Severus" to Lupin who's 'playing nice' meanwhile Snape always calls him 'Lupin' and not 'Remus'? Who can say. Possibly both; he's both outranked and irritated by Karkaroff.

By the time Snape meets Karkaroff again, he's somehow cultivated his slightly cooler persona (given how awkward and unpolished Snape was as a student vs how he tries to present himself as a professor at Hogwarts). He is also a much braver man and, arguably, in a safer position than Karkaroff (having over a decade of information on Dumbledore for Voldemort vs having sold out a bunch of other Death Eaters and widely denounced Voldemort), Snape's riddled with grief and even more bitterness - so Karkaroff's constant worrying is, undoubtedly, genuinely irritating to him, as well as the fact that he's genuinely unsettled by Voldemort's possible return as well, even as he tries to hide it.

Now, I can't remember whether it's canon or fanon that Snape first applied for the DADA position on Voldemort's orders, or whether he did it under his own steam, but I think either way this would fit; young Snape would want and/or need the 'relevant' experience of teaching the Dark Arts either way to get the job, and if nothing else he was too young to get it, so how better to fill his time than to prepare somewhere where the Dark Arts aren't only taught to be defended, but in their own right?

Travel isn't really an issue, either; with Portkeys, Floo, Apparition (questionable at that distance and given Hogwarts' own Apparition ban), and a giant magical boat, they could be doing their thing in Durmstrang by day and doing... whatever it is Death Eaters did by night, but I think being at Durmstrang would also be a stronger position, with more resources, to be experimenting with Dark magic and potions than trying to do it in the Malfoys' back garden, for instance

(Also, where did Voldemort like...live during the first war? Did he just pitch up to the Malfoys' every time? Has he got his own house? Have I forgotten that? Was it mentioned?)

Anyway please do correct me if I've gotten anything terribly wrong, but otherwise I'll be holding on to this

[hearts4youz]

The Captain's Daughter Chapter 12

A/N: Im so stupid I thought I posted this but I pressed save as draft smh...-_- anyway.... Hope yallz enjoy <3

Reader pov:

"Your one minute late."

You are taken aback by his statement and stony expression. After your performance yesterday, you expected Ghost to praise you for your work. Instead you were already being berated.

"Whatever, lets just get started," He rolled his eyes.

Today was more weight lifting. Your muscles ached with every rep. Ghost only stared and counted your reps. Aches and pains coursed through your body. Soreness was embedded deep inside your muscles. You begged for rest, Ghost showed no mercy.

He seemed to have rage inside of him. His glare was more piercing than normal. He looked as if he could impale you with his gaze. You quivered in fear a little bit, but you quickly recovered to avoid being given a reason to be afraid of him.

You can't help but feel a little bit upset at his lack of rememberance of yesterday's job well done. You tried your best to channel that into your workout, but your sulking and blubbering caught Ghost's attention.

"Stop whining kid." He said flatly.

"I'm not whining," You said while trying to muster up the confidence to look him in the eye without feeling shame.

He made you think that you didn't do well yesterday, that you still weren't worthy enough for the team.

Ghost pov:

She did well yesterday, I'll give her that.

but of course I can't complement her, it'l go straight to her head and she'll get cocky.

Less vigilant.

Overconfident.

Caught off guard.

She'll wind up dead.

So now i'll train her harder, because how else could I ensure her safety?

I can't help but look at her pained expression. I feel bad for all the small whimpers and cries she lets out. I watch her lay on the bench, barely able to keep the bar up anymore. I can feel my walls falter, just for a second.

Just for a moment, I feel the need to take away her suffering. To take the pain for her. To protect her

I quickly shake these thoughts from my mind, they are replaced by the comfortable, stoic mask.

I watch her last reps, her form going to shit, she almost drops the bar onto her chest. I quickly catch it, pulling the weight up onto the rack with ease.

"Go ahead and grab some water, Y/N"

She looks surprised at my show of mercy. I quickly figure out an excuse for my care.

"Can't have you sent back to the infirmary again," I explain.

Y/N nods and goes over to the water station. As she's taking a drink I notice two younger recruits staring at her. I roll my eyes as they whisper to each other.

I only grow concerned once they make their way over to her. I watch as they converse with her, I ball my fists as Y/N giggles at what one of them says. I feel a weird sense of protectiveness over her.

I shake my head

What do I care that she talks to other guys?

Why is this affecting me?

I can't help but think about pulling her away from them. Telling them she's mine.

Mine?

What the fuck am I thinking?

I don't like Y/N... do I?

My thoughts spiral

I can't have a crush on her, she's Captain Price's daughter for fucks sake.

My thoughts are interrupted by Y/N waving her hand in front of my face.

"Uhm... earth to Ghost"

"Lieutenant?"

I snap out of my trance and almost forget to scold her when I look back into her (eye color) eyes and almost lose myself again.

"Uh... yeah... sorry, Just go over to the squat rack, I'll catch up."

Fucking hell.

I have a crush on my Captains daughter.

Taglist: @Abbiesvox @n30n-j3lly @weird-katthing @kayoyamamegame @kroowonderemporium @astro-ghoul99

[yeonsclover]

Hi I hope you're having a good day

Could I ask for a angst to fluff fic for nozel? Where nozel has been super busy and neglecting his wife but one morning when his wife asks him if they could spend some time together, (maybe because it's their anniversary or her birthday but nozel forgot) he absentmindedly tells her they could go out for dinner that night and his s/o is very happy and dresses up really pretty but when the time came nozel doesn't come to pick her up cuz he forgot about the date and is busy with work again and basically stands her up. Maybe nebra or solid comes into nozels office confused why he was still working and nozel remembered he promised his s/o to take her out on a date. Very very angst to fluff please I live for this kind of stuff

Hi🫶 I’m having a great day, I hope you are to!(srry if there is spelling mistake)

You walk down the long hallway in the silver eagle's base, making your way to your husband's office early this morning. Heels clicking against the floor you pause as you reach the door hesitating to knock.“Come in” you hear from the inside. Of course, he sensed your presence before you even made it known to him. That’s one of the many things you loved about your husband.

“Nozel,” you said as you closed the door behind you for a private conversation. “I was thinking we could go out later today” pasting around the room with your arms crossed behind your back “You know since our anniversary is coming up next week, and I know you won’t be able to make it because of the meeting with the wizard king, and all” you stop walking and turn your body towards him as you hear his fingers speed up on the keyboard. “Yeah, sure. We’ll go out to dinner at 6 tonight. Sounds good? We’ll go to that new restaurant you wanted to go to” “I’ll meet you there” You twirl around in excitement squealing like a teenager “Now please leave me be. I need to finish this”

You could hear the dread in his voice.

Normally, you would yell at him for the tone he was speaking to you in, but right now you were too excited and had to go pick out an outfit for tonight. You walk back to your and nozels shared room, well you practically skipped there, getting stares from the other silver eagle members. “Why are you so happy this morning,” Nebra asked stopping you by the cafe where they were eating breakfast. “Nozel is taking me out tonight! I’m going to go pick out my outfit early!” You said practically prancing around “How about I come to help you pick out an outfit?”

“I would love that let’s go”

————-——————————————————————

You and Nebra go through your side of the closet you and Nozel share rummaging through all of your clothes picking out pieces that match, or complement each other “What kind of restaurant is this anyways? So we have an idea of what kind of outfit we’re looking for” “It’s the new restaurant in town. You know the fancy one” (idk what to name it)

“Well in that case” she pulls out a light blue lace dress and a white pair of heels to match “Oh my gosh you’re a genius” I grab the clothes running into the bathroom to change.

“How should I do my hair?” “You should wear it up to show off your jewelry” I bush my hair upwards into a bun securing it with pins and slipping a few bracelets on my arm and clipping a pear necklace on my neck. I look down at my phone to see it’s 6 already “It’s time I’m going to head down to the restaurant” grabbing my purse and heading out the door “ he’s not driving you there? What a douche” I giggle at her statement knowing there is some truth to it.

———————————————————————————

“Hi I have a reservation for two” “What is the name under?” “Nozel Silva” the lady at the front types on her computer “Sorry, there is no reservation for a Nozel Silva”. Of course, it would end like this. You angrily grab your purse on walk out of the restaurant.

*back at the silver eagles base*

Nebra walks past the Nozels office only to see the door wide open with Nozel sitting in his chair with his head between his arms. “Hey, you asshole!” He jumps up from his sleep annoyed. “Did you forget you had a date tonight you idiot” Nozels face goes pale. He jumps up and runs outside, where he hops on his flying silver eagle heading to the restaurant.

*back to you*

“I should’ve known better. I should’ve expected this” you said walking toward the carriage stomping your feet. You feel a gust of when land beside you, and an arm pull yours back. “Y/n wait” “I fell asleep I’m sorry” you ignore him “You know I was busy” “I also know where your priorities lie and I’m not one of them”

“Listen to me, it won’t happen again I promise. You’ll always be number one in my life. Let’s go home I’ll personally prepare dinner” he holds out his hand to you to help you hope on the flying eagle.

“You know your gonna have to make up for not taking me to the restaurant,” you said looking up at your significant other while you were laying on his chest. “We can go on our anniversary day” “Don’t you have the meeting?” “I’ll call in sick I have something more important to do” you smile as snuggle into his chest while he runs his fingers through your hair.