#i had no idea how to verbalize his importance to me in words. this is it exactly. thank you

[sparklecarehospital]

sly is like if barruni was a person to you. whens the spam reblog sly image coming to join little science kitty in the highest ranks 🐱🦊🩵💚

[astrophileous]

The Monday Pursuit

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: The three times Derek tries to find out your name, and the one time he finally gets it. Or, the story of four different Mondays that Derek spends on the pursuit of your name.

Warning(s): shy!reader, cursing, public confrontation (verbal and physical) with a douchebag, verbal and physical threats, talks of killing someone, name-calling, protective derek, a bit of damsel in distress situation, and that's it really. this is just tooth-rotting fluff 💞

Word Count: 4300-ish

Author's Note: I FINALLY POSTED A DEREK ONE SHOT! YAY! I was toying around with the idea of making this a series of connected one shots, each one focusing on the significance of a particular day (tuesday, wednesday, thursday, etc) in the progress of your relationship. does that sound like something you guys would be interested in? tell me what you think! plsss!!! don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Derek noticed you on a Monday.

He couldn't count how many times his eyes had swept over you absentmindedly in the past few weeks. None of them ever lasted long enough for him to linger around, but somehow, this particular Monday was different.

It was different because the moment Derek's gaze drifted towards the direction where he would usually find you, he finally noticed that you were gone.

It was ironic in a way, how he only noticed you in the wake of your absence. But somewhere in the ruckus that his favorite coffee shop would whirl into every morning, Derek had begun associating the table in the corner of that place with you.

Even then, when someone else was occupying the seat at the end of his long stare, Derek could picture the scene in his head: your laptop on the table, a cup of steaming hot coffee in your hand, and a serious but adorable crease on the center of your forehead. Those three things stood out from the rest. Perhaps if he had the same eidietic ability as Spender Reid, Derek could list more details about your habits and person. Nonetheless, somewhere in his subsconscious, Derek's memories must have deemed you important enough to keep, and that was all it took for him to wonder what about you was so goddamn special.

His fog of reverie was soon broken by an interrupting voice, "She's out of town."

Derek turned his head to see one of the barristas giving him a sly smile. "Excuse me?"

"The writer. She's out of town."

"Writer?" Derek didn't know that. "She's a writer?"

"On the side. She's in grad school," the barrista said. "She has two books out and another one pending publication. She's in New York right now for a book signing."

The word impressive promptly filled Derek's mind, and judging by the barrista's expression, it seemed that the word had translated unmistakably on his face, too.

"You know, you shouldn't give out someone's information to random people like that," Derek warned.

"I don't usually, but I thought, since you're FBI..."

The surprise in Derek's eyes couldn't be more palpable. "How'd you know?"

"Dude, you've been around a while." The barrista shrugged. "Besides, I don't think she would mind."

Derek frowned.

"She likes you," the barrista revealed once they saw the confusion settling on Derek's face.

"What?"

"She's got a bad crush on you, didn't you know?"

"Uh, no?"

"Huh." The barrista put down the cup containing Derek's order on the counter. "I thought you knew. She was so obvious. I mean, I'm not sure how she hasn't burned through the back of your skull with how hard she always stares."

Flabbergasted couldn't even begin to describe what Derek was feeling. His curious eyes flicked momentarily towards your table before he addressed the barrista again, "She's a friend of yours?"

"Hell yeah, she is." The barrista smiled. "That's why I know she's got it bad for you."

Being admired wasn't exactly something new for Derek, so he struggled to comprehend why the thought of you crushing on him had triggered a wave of heat to travel up and down his body.

"What's her name?" Derek asked, trying to sound casual and nonchalant as he picked up his cup of coffee.

The barrista grinned smugly. "I thought you told me not to give someone's information to a random person like that?"

With that said, the barrista went to attend to another customer, leaving Derek to curse over his excellent ability to dig up his own hole.

You were back in town the following week.

When Derek walked into the coffee shop the next Monday, he immediately found you huddled up in your usual seat. For one split second, Derek saw you looking up from your laptop, your eyes locking with his from across the room. But before he could offer a smile, you averted your gaze as if you couldn't wait to get away from him.

That thought didn't conjure well in Derek's mind.

Derek proceeded to give his usual order and waited by the counter. However, when he saw a plate of blueberry muffin being placed next to his cup to go, Derek glimpsed up in confusion at the awaiting smirk on your friend's--the barrista's--face.

"I didn't order this."

"No, you didn't. But do you know whose favorite dessert it is?"

Derek casted a glance towards your direction.

"Exactly." The barrista grinned wider. "Now, go. It's on the house."

The loud drumming inside Derek's chest should have been laughable.

He was never like this. Derek was always self-assured, especially when it came to flirting and courting, so there really was no reason for him to be feeling like this. But something about you had spiked the rhytmic beating in his chest, and Derek didn't like being out of his element when there was a pretty girl at stake.

Thus, with an ease born out of years of practice, Derek worked to turn on his good ol' charm. The same one that dripped from his footsteps as he sauntered over your table with his coffee in one hand and one special plate of blueberry muffin in the other.

Deer caught in headlights; that was exactly the perfect description to visualize how you looked when Derek finally placed the muffin on the table. The man smirked triumphantly at the knowledge that he affected you just as much as you affected him.

"Hey," Derek greeted almost complacently. "I heard this is your favorite."

"What? I don't.... how did you..."

You stopped speaking altogether, sending a grimace to the direction of the counter--where your friend was working--when you deduced what could probably have transpired

"I missed you last week," Derek added.

If you were abashed before, then you must have been mortified when those words slipped out of Derek's lips. You looked up at him with a gaping mouth, and Derek would have laughed at how precious you looked if he didn't have compassion for your poor nerves.

"I was out of town," you eventually managed to say.

"I heard. A writer, right? You had a book signing." Derek smiled. "That's impressive. Anything of yours I might know?"

Your face contorted after hearing his question. "I doubt it. I'm not big at all."

"I don't know. Book signing in New York? Sounds pretty big to me."

"Not as much as you would expect, to be honest."

Derek didn't know why, but he despised the sound of you downplaying your own accomplishments as if they weren't worthy of being praised. He swore he would assist in changing that tendency if given the chance.

"My name is Derek. Derek Morgan."

"I know."

Derek raised a curious eyebrow.

You cowered shyly when you realized what you had admitted. "I heard you mention it a while ago, when you were ordering."

"And you remember?"

Your bashful expression nearly compelled Derek to cheer out loud.

"Do you need something?" you finally asked, not at all mean or bitter, more timid than anything else.

"Yes. I was wondering if I could ask for your name."

"My name?

Derek nodded. "Well, you see, I wanted to ask for your number, but I figured since I still don't have your name yet, then maybe I should get around to it first."

You bit your bottom lip, seemingly in deep thought as you assessed Derek with soft eyes.

"My name is--"

Just as the answer was dangling on the tip of your tongue, Derek's phone suddenly started to ring. He internally cursed his life for its partiality to bad timings, holding up an apologetic finger as he accepted the call without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hey, beefcake, where are you?" Penelope Garcia asked from the other end of the line. "Hotch just told everyone to be up and running in 30."

"What? I thought the briefing starts in 30."

"He's debriefing on the plane. Another body just turned up."

"Shit. Shit. Okay, fine, I'll be there."

Derek ended the call in the next second, panic clouding his mind to the point that he failed to realize he didn't bid his usual farewell to his favorite tech analyst. In front of him, you were staring with a pair of expectant eyes that made Derek wish he could stop time to spend it by your side. Alas, such power only existed in fantasy, and Derek--frankly--didn't have enough time at hand to pay grievance over that fact.

"I'm sorry."

Your face fell at Derek's apology, even if slightly.

"God, this sucks. I wish I could stay. I haven't even--"

"Derek, it's okay," you cut him off. "Just go."

"But you didn't--"

"Derek." Your hand on the table slid forward, as though wanting to reach out to him but stopped shortly before you did. "I'm always here."

It was such a simple statement. Three small words that carried hardly any weight on their own whatsoever. But strung together, Derek knew exactly what you meant, the real meaning behind the sentence you chose to say.

You can go. It's okay. We'll continue this some other time.

Reeling from your generous understanding, Derek rushed a goodbye before sprinting towards the door. But just as he was about to touch its handle, he span around for one last look, calling out a sentence that he had pocketed safely as a promise.

"I'll see you soon."

Since Derek's last encounter with you at the coffee shop, the BAU had been thrown from one case to another in the span of two weeks, during which Derek seemed to struggle eliminating the thought of you from the depth of his mind.

When a new Monday rolled around, Derek found himself whistling to a favorite tune as he took the morning route towards the coffee shop. The day was a gloomy one, gray and cloudy with a high chance of rain, contrasting entirely with the sunshine inside Derek's chest. In a few minutes, he would finally see you again, and Derek couldn't wait to woo you into agreeing on a date with him as his palm pressed on the door of the coffee shop.

Unfortunately, Derek's movements ceased the moment he stepped into the familiar establishment.

The atmosphere in the coffee shop struck no resemblance to what Derek had associated with the place: warm, safe, and welcoming. Instead, the taste of tension was hot on his tongue, sizzling under the thick silence that had rendered the entire room into a standstill.

In the middle of it all, just a few paces from where the front door stood, Derek had found you.

You were standing with your head down, which wasn't a strange sight considering that you often did that to avoid unwanted attention. But Derek never saw your lips quiver that way before, nor did he ever see your eyes blown so out of proportion in a telltale sign of fright.

Upon a further inspection of the room, Derek realized that he wasn't the only one whose eyes were trained on you. Every patron in the shop, including every worker behind the counter, was staring openly in your direction as well. He was a milisecond away from taking another step when the man in front of you started to scream out of the blue.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Are you fucking stupid?!"

The malicious words didn't sit well with the vituous bone in Derek's body. But it was seeing you flinch from the verbal onslaught that finally made Derek dash forward, putting himself as a shield between you and the insolent stranger.

"That's enough," Derek said as he tugged you behind his back.

The stranger looked up at Derek with an ugly scowl on his face. "Who the hell are you?!"

"If you have a problem, let's take this outsi--"

"I don't have a problem with you, dickhead. I have a problem with her!" Derek extended to his full height instinctively, trying to hide you from the brazen man. "Now, move. This is none of your fucking business!"

"It became my business the second you chose to disrupt everyone's morning," Derek countered. "Why don't you tell me what's going on here?"

"Why don't you ask your bitch, huh? She fucking started all of this."

"Fucking bastard."

Red clouded Derek's vision when he clenched the man's collar in his hand. All around him, the crowd erupted in a chorus of gasps. Satisfaction filled Derek's chest when he glimpsed the hint of fear in the man's eyes.

"I dare you to say one more word about her," Derek seethed. "I dare you."

"Derek." He felt your fingers then, twisting around a portion of his shirt, pulling desperately until Derek loosened his grip on the other man. "Please."

The douchebag stumbled dramatically when Derek finally discarded him to the side.

Derek span around, looking directly into your eyes for the first time that morning. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

Instead of answering his question, you pushed past a frowning Derek, addressing the horrible man whose face was now crimson; either from rage or embarrassment, Derek didn't know. He didn't care.

"I'm sorry, sir." Your voice vibrated in the air. It wavered with a clear sign of tears. "I didn't... I wasn't thinking. I've caused you trouble. I'm sorry. And I apologize to everyone for ruining your day."

With that, you turned around and picked up your belongings that were scattered on the floor before dashing straight out of the door. Derek stared at your back until it disappeared from view.

"You better tell me what the fuck happened here," Derek fumed towards the man.

"You heard her. She fucked up, that's what happened."

"That's not true." A new voice arose. Derek turned his head to see your barrista friend standing behind the counter, their eyes flaming with anger.

"The poor girl spilled her coffee," another voice interjected. It belonged to an old lady who was standing at the very front of the line. "She didn't mean to, but it got all over his things. Then he just started screaming all kinds of stuff to her."

Derek closed his eyes before reopening them again, shooting daggers towards the man. "You're pulling this crap over a spilled fucking coffee?!"

The other man began to stutter. "She ruined important documents!"

"It wasn't even her fault," the barrista added. "He was too busy being on his phone to watch where he was going."

That last piece of information was the last straw for Derek.

He used his forearm to push the douchebag by the throat, slamming his back against the wall until the man gasped for air.

"You will never step foot in here again, do you hear me?" Derek pressed his elbow deeper into the man, stopping only when he started to nod frantically. "You don't come near this place, ever again. But most importantly, you don't come near her. I'm gonna fucking kill you if you do."

Derek let him go afterwards, ignoring the series of coughs that the man had fallen into while he marched towards the door.

"Don't even think for a minute that I'm gonna let this go!" the man shouted just as Derek was about to exit the coffee shop. "I'll be notifying the authorities about what happened here today. You'll see!"

The scoff Derek let out couldn't be more condescending. "Yeah, you do that. And when you do, tell them--" Derek reached into his pocket, pulling out his credentials before flashing it towards the man, "--the name's Agent Derek Morgan. FBI."

He slammed the door behind him.

Once outside, Derek's eyes darted around to find any trace of you in the midst of the morning rush hour. Eventually, he spotted the back of your head, walking away about a few feet ahead of him. Derek broke into a sprint almost immediately, squeezing himself in between the ocean of people, trying to catch up with you before realizing that he most like wouldn't be able to.

Just as he watched you turning a corner, Derek mourned the fact that he couldn't call out to you because he still didn't know your name.

It was the second Monday that Derek didn't see you anywhere in, or near, the coffee shop.

In total, it had been two whole weeks without you showing your face at the place, not even once. Your barrista friend was as clueless about your whereabouts as Derek was. He even had started coming into the shop at odd hours during the day, or whenever his schedule would allow him to, sometimes lingering for a few minutes in the morning just in case he would catch you walking through those doors.

You never did.

In a moment fueled by something akin to desperation, Derek found himself marching towards the office of Penelope Garcia. If there was anyone who could find you--who you were, where you were, and everything else about you--it was going to be the team's tech genius.

The tech analyst wasn't in the room when Derek entered, and as he found himself standing there--alone in the silence--Derek was confronted by how ridiculous he was being.

He couldn't understand why he was acting like this. Why the thought of never seeing you again managed to lure him into considering a breach of privacy. Derek had barely even talked to you, yet whatever brief interaction the two of you had so far was enough to affect him in ways that shouldn't be possible.

Derek decided to turn around and vacant the room before anyone could catch him lingering there like an idiot, but his steps fell short when he saw Penelope standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here, Sugar?" Penelope questioned, her eyes squinting into a suspicion-filled look.

"Looking for you, of course," Derek lied.

"Derek Morgan, I didn't spend years working with the best profilers in the country to not be able to tell when someone is lying." Penelope walked towards her chair, making sure that she was settled comfortably before swiveling around to face Derek again. "Talk to me."

"Babygirl, there's nothing to talk about."

"Oh my God. It's about a girl."

How the fuck does she do that?

"Derek, you tell me right now every single thing about this lovely creature who has captured your heart, and I meant every single thing. What's her name? What does she do? Where did you guys meet? You guys are official, right? Because if not, then--"

"Okay, Blondie, pump your brakes," Derek interfered before Penelope could vomit the entire content of the Oxford dictionary. "There's no girl."

Penelope frowned. "There isn't?"

"No."

"But you want it to be?"

Derek couldn't give her an answer.

"Mister, you tell me what's going on right now, and don't leave out any details."

So, that was exactly what Derek ended up doing.

He told Penelope about you; about the little snippets of yourself that had infiltrated Derek's subsconscious without him even realizing it, about your first proper interraction where your smile looked more appetizing than the blueberry muffin he had put on the table, and about the incident that marked his last ever encounter with you.

By the time he wrapped the story up, Penelope's face was a heap of reactions.

"You know," the tech analyst finally said, "I can probably find her for you."

"I told you I don't want that, Sweetness."

"But why?!" Penelope nearly whined. "You like her, and her friend said she obviously likes you, too. What if you never see her again? Are you seriously just going to let your story end in what ifs?"

"Of course, I don't want that. But this is not how I want our story to start, too, if there is even gonna be one." Derek gripped Penelope's shoulder, squeezing affectionately. "Thanks for the offer, Babygirl, but maybe it just wasn't meant to be."

For the rest of that day, Derek threw himself into work in order to keep his head preoccupied with something else other than the images of you.

In a few hours, he had successfully completed all of the pending case reports that were piling on his desk. A quick glance at the clock told Derek that he still had another three hours before he was supposed to go home. Sighing, Derek got up from his desk and walked towards the pantry.

"It's been four hours," Derek heard Emily say as soon as he walked towards the kitchenette. "What are they doing there?"

"She could be a reporter. Maybe she's interviewing him," Spencer theorized.

"Who's interviewing who?" Derek asked.

He headed for the coffee maker only to realize that there was no coffee left. Derek cursed under his breath before he went to make a fresh batch.

"Rossi has a guest, and they've been in his office for four hours," Spencer explained.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Really? I didn't see anyone."

"She came in during lunch."

"Huh. A woman?"

Spencer nodded.

"Potential lover?" Derek asked again.

"I don't think so. She's young."

"Unless, he's that kind of guy." Emily smirked.

Spencer frowned. "What kind of guy?"

"I don't think Rossi's like that." Derek chuckled.

"Who is she, then?" Emily questioned.

"Is no one going to tell me what kind of guy Rossi is?" Spencer suddenly said.

"A student, perhaps? A fan? Who knows?" Derek shrugged. "Or maybe you were right. She's here to interview him."

"Oh! Here they come!" Emily exclaimed a few minutes later.

Derek turned to steal a glance at the guest that had captured his fellow teammates' interest. But just as he was about to catch a glimpse of her, Derek suddenly spilled hot coffee everywhere, flooding nearly half the counter until some of it dripped down the cabinets as well.

"Shit." Derek stared at the mess he had made in annoyance. "Fuck me."

"She's really pretty, though," Emily pointed out--no doubt about Rossi's guest--earning an agreeing hum from Spencer.

After he had cleaned up the spilled coffee, Derek ambled back towards the direction of his desk. As he was passing the glass doors to the bullpen, however, Derek saw Rossi standing in front of the elevator, waving towards the person who had just walked inside of it.

Someone who--as Derek realized with a particularly loud thump in his chest--turned out to be you.

Derek was barely able to place the steaming cup of coffee on a random desk before he made a run for the elevator. But just as he reached Rossi's side, the elevator's doors had closed, making you vanish once more from Derek's sight.

"Shit," Derek muttered. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

Beside him, Rossi was staring in open confusion. "Morgan?"

Derek finally turned towards the older man. "The girl who was in the elevator. Who is she?"

Rossi's forehead creased. "Why?"

"Do you know her?"

"She's a fellow crime writer. She was here for a consultation," Rossi answered. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on?"

"Her name. What's her name?"

"What the hell is going on, Morgan?"

"Rossi, come on, man," Derek sounded desperate, but he didn't care. "I just need her name."

Derek barely succeeded in mumbling a quick thank you to Rossi for giving him your name before he rushed straight to the emergency stairs. The entire run down to the lobby was a blur in Derek's eyes. The only focus in his mind was about getting to you.

Once he was outside of the headquarters building, Derek saw you walking a few paces ahead of him in the direction of the parking lot. He shouted your name with all of his might, seeing you stop and turn your body around from the distance, and soon enough, he had managed to close it in a matter of seconds.

Derek was a mess of panting breaths and drumming heartbeats when he finally stood in front of you. The look you gave him spoke of surprise and bewilderment, and Derek relished in the feeling of being at the receiving end of your lovely gaze.

"Derek? What? What are you--"

"I work with Rossi," Derek stated simply.

Your eyebrows escalated in surprise. "You do?"

"Yeah. I saw you earlier with him," Derek continued. "I haven't seen you in awhile."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Derek allowed his eyes to roam over your entire person, from the top of your head to the tip your toes. There was no malice in his stare as he did, just appreciation, and maybe a little bit of longing from not having seen you in such a long time.

"I haven't been to the coffee shop again. Not after--" you swallowed the lump in your throat. "I was embarrassed. I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart."

"You got dragged into my mess. I owe you an apology."

"You owe me nothing. Okay? What happened wasn't your fault. That man was just an asshole," Derek told you truthfully. "You don't have to be worried about him anymore. He's never coming back."

His last statement caused you to lift your head up so fast, Derek was scared you were going to have a whiplash.

"Nothing happened, sweetheart," he elaborated once he saw the panic in your eyes. "I just made sure to let him know that he wasn't welcome there anymore."

The breath you let out sounded eerily similar with relief.

"Thank you, Derek. For everything," you offered shyly. "Please tell me if there's anything I could do to make it up to you."

That last sentence you uttered prompted a wide grin across Derek's face. "Actually, there may be something."

Derek took a step closer towards you then, noting the way your shoulders tensed up from his proximity. His own senses were overcome by everything about you; from the slight parting of your lips, the steady rise and fall of your chest that seemed to be growing more rapid in Derek's presence, and to the sweet plus addictive smell of your perfume.

Taking his own deep breath, Derek forced the words--the same ones that he had been keeping deep inside of him--to tumble freely into the air.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

[mollywog]

Thinking about Katniss’s friendship with Madge (and also Gale)

I think Madge is important for several reasons, but one being: She shows us that Katniss doesn't 100% 'buy' the whole merchant vs seam thing.

The mayor’s daughter, Madge, opens the door. She’s in my year at school. Being the mayor’s daughter, you’d expect her to be a snob, but she’s all right. She just keeps to herself. Like me. Since neither of us really has a group of friends, we seem to end up together a lot at school. Eating lunch, sitting next to each other at assemblies, partnering for sports activities. We rarely talk, which suits us both just fine.

Katniss (and Gale) are actually progress thinkers in this way. They hold biases/resentment about the merchants, but also can recognize it as a Capital driven division.

Even though Gale snaps at Madge at the start of the book, Katniss credits him with knowing ‘his anger at Madge is misdirected.’ In fact he is the one verbalizing the idea to her.

You can see why someone like Madge, who has never been at risk of needing a tessera, can set him off. The chance of her name being drawn is very slim compared to those of us who live in the Seam. Not impossible, but slim. And even though the rules were set up by the Capitol, not the districts, certainly not Madge's family, it's hard not to resent those who don't have to sign up for tesserae.

Gale knows his anger at Madge is misdirected. On other days, deep in the woods, I've listened to him rant about how the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district. A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust one another. "It's to the Capitol's advantage to have us divided among ourselves," he might say if there were no ears to hear but mine. If it wasn't reaping day. If a girl with a gold pin and no tesserae had not made what I'm sure she thought was a harmless comment.

Madge and Gale inspire Katniss’s rebellious actions just as much Peeta

Madge’s pin is what makes Rue trust Katniss.

I unclasp the pin and hold it out to her. “Here, you take it. It has more meaning for you than me.”

“Oh, no,” says Rue, closing my fingers back over the pin. “I like to see it on you. That’s how I decided I could trust you. Besides, I have this.” She pulls a necklace woven out of some kind of grass from her shirt. On it, hangs a roughly carved wooden star. Or maybe it’s a flower. “It’s a good luck charm.”

And Katniss is reminded of both Gale’s rants and Peeta’s piece in their games speech in the aftermath of Rue’s death

Gale’s voice is in my head. His ravings against the Capitol no longer pointless, no longer to be ignored. Rue’s death has forced me to confront my own fury against the cruelty, the injustice they inflict upon us. But here, even more strongly than at home, I feel my impotence. There’s no way to take revenge on the Capitol. Is there?

Then I remember Peeta’s words on the roof. “Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to . . . to show the Capitol they don’t own me. That I’m more than just a piece in their Games.” And for the first time, I understand what he means.

Please also check out this beautiful analysis of Madge by @wistfulweaverwoman!

[multifandomgirl08]

Stones To Throw At My Creator [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad! Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: He wasn't his father. He would never raise Nico like that.

Warning(s): Angst, Mention of past trauma caused by a parent, Jos Verstappen (just him, in the second half), Max and Jos have a verbal confrontation

A/N: Title from the song Bother by Stone Sour. This song was on one of my playlists and I couldn't help but think of Max while listening to it. I don't normally tackle heavy issues, but I couldn't get the idea of Max wanting to comment about his father's parenting now that he is going to be a parent (again). Totally me rambling but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

This part and the following part of Mini Verstappen are going to be heavy in terms of the subject. Luckily after the next part, it'll be the second to last time we hear about Jos in this series.

Words: 2k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

It was one of the odd weekends that Max had off. Nico had a karting race that weekend, and Max made sure that he had been there given how many he had already missed.

“I only got fourth.” Nico blubbered, with his head slumped against his chest.

“You can’t win them all Nico.” Max insisted.

“But you win almost all of your races.” The little boy remarked.

While Max enjoyed winning when he was racing, he didn’t want Nico to feel like he had to strive to be amazing behind the wheel at such a young age. Nico was still learning and wasn’t going to be competing until he was older. He shouldn’t be thinking about winning races all the time. He was just a child.

“Yes I do, but there was a time when I didn’t. Winning isn’t everything. You need to focus on being a good driver first before winning anything. Especially when you have a team of people who are working alongside you.” He explained.

Nico knew how important the team was when Max was on the track, it was hundreds of people working to improve the car. It was never just Max at the end of the day. Max didn’t want to push Nico like his father had pushed him. There were times when Max felt he couldn’t handle the pressure his father was putting on him and he didn’t want Nico to ever feel like that.

Over the last year that Nico had been karting, Max had made his peace with it. This was what Nico wanted. So Max would support him even if he didn’t want his son to pursue being in motorsports.

After having spent so many years away from his father’s influence, with only his son and a nanny to take care of him for the first few years. It made Max think about the way that he was raised, how his father had conditioned him to have a very particular mentality when he was on the track and that was great when he was driving for Red Bull, but it wasn’t how he wanted to raise his son. He didn’t want his child to feel like he had to put aside the other things that he cared about for karting.

Nico would one day be his own person, he didn’t have to have the same aspirations that his father had for him growing up. He wanted Nico to enjoy karting while he was still young, he didn’t want to make it about winning for him. When he was older and decided that it was something that he wanted, then maybe… maybe he could be there to encourage Nico to pursue racing. He didn’t want to force it on him.

“But I like winning. It’s fun.” Nico muttered mostly to himself.

Max let out a deep breath.

He wanted to push Nico to do great when he was driving but he never wanted to take it to the extremes of his father.

He helped Nico pack up all of his things before going and meeting Y/N at the car.

“How about,” He offered up as they walked to the car. “We can work on you winning but when it’s not fun anymore I want you to tell me.”

He knew it wasn’t the perfect thing to offer up but it was better than what he had gone through growing up. He never wanted his son to resent him the way he did his father.

“Okay.” Nico nodded up at him. “Does that mean that we can fix the su…spen…sion? I think there is something wrong with it.”

Max couldn’t help but lightly smile.

“After dinner, we can go into the garage and take a look.” Max normally kept Nico out of the garage when he was working on Nico’s kart. He didn’t want his little fingers anywhere near it just in case something went wrong.

Max saw Y/N before she saw him. She was loading her bag into the back seat of the car while holding her growing belly. Baby Verstappen #2 was growing by the day.

When Y/N told him that she was pregnant he had been scared, he throught that he would have more time racing before they had kids together. Max hadn’t been around when Nico’s birth mother was pregnant with him, and he wanted to be able to experience all of it this time around. 

His wife had been at ease with the idea, telling him that there was nothing stopping them from giving Nico a sibling, he was already an amazing dad and adding another one to the family would only further prove that. He had believed her, and now that Y/N was pregnant he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

Max moved all of Nico’s karting things into the trunk of the car and closed it once everything was put away. He made his way to the front of the car, reaching for his wife’s waist.

"Hi, mijn leeuwin." He muttered.

"Hello." She replied before he pulled her in and kissed her letting his hand rest on the growing bump.

“Eww.” He heard from Nico.

Max pulled away long enough to laugh at his reaction. Although their son was used to all of the affection that he showed Y/N it was only recently that Nico started to find it gross.

Y/N carefully reached down and kissed Nico on the cheek.

“No, Mama,” Nico said after he squirmed away wiping off her kiss with the sleeve of his jacket. Nico was still as attached to Y/N as ever but there were little things that showed Max how quickly Nico was growing up.

They had just finished dinner, Max was clearing the table insisting that Y/N relax on the couch with Nico. He didn’t want her walking around more than usual.

There was a knock on the front door, they weren't expecting visitors.

“I’ll get it,” Max said abandoning the table for the door. It was a short walk, him then turning the lock of the door, and a small pull to see his father. Max froze where he stood. What was he doing here?

“Who’s at the door, baby.” He heard.

“No one, just someone who’s at the wrong house.” He said looking directly at his father. Max was quick to reach for his keys. He wasn’t going to invite his father inside. He didn’t want him here.

“Be right back.” Max hollered into the living room.

He pushed his father away from the front door before closing it behind him.

“What are you doing here?” He yelled in Dutch.

“Can’t I visit my family?” Jos had asked.

Max said nothing back to that. Jos knew that they had stopped being his family a long time ago.

“I don’t want you anywhere near my son.” Jos was trying to be civil, but Max didn’t want to be civil. He just wanted him gone from his life like he had been for the last 5 years.

“I’m his grandfather.”

“No, you’re the man that made me realize how I don’t want to raise my son.” He knew those words would cut deep, that was the intention. And he already has a grandfather in Christian, why would he need you? He wanted to add but didn’t.

Jos Verstappen wasn’t his father, they may share blood and a name but nothing else. He wanted nothing to do with him.

When Max was younger he never had to courage to stand up to his father, but after Nico came into his life he realized that he now needed to put Nico before him. After he started dating Y/N, got married, and found out that she was pregnant it made him aware that one day he would see his father and would need to stand up to him and tell him how he felt after all those years.

“What about my other grandchild?”

Max closed his eyes at those words. He never wanted him to know that Y/N was pregnant.

“You didn’t think I would find out?” Jos half questioned.

“I knew that you would eventually find out. I just never expected you to show up at my home with my family here.”

“I’m your family.”

“How can you claim to be my family when you tried to keep my son from me?” Jos never wanted him to know that he had a son. It wasn’t in his plans to make him a champion. Even if Nico wasn’t in his life, he knew he would eventually achieve that goal despite Jos always telling him that he would amount to nothing.

Becoming world Champion meant so much more given that he got to share those dreams with Nico.

“I did it for you, for your career.”

His career? That was his reason. Almost getting frostbite on his fingers as a child, being punched in the face after a race, being left at a gas station in the middle of knowhere. Was that for his career? He could think of more incidents that Jos would claim were “for his career”.

Jos Verstappen’s coaching made him a great driver, but it would have made him a shitty parent in addition to being a horrible husband.

He never wanted to put Y/N through what his mother had to deal with.

“You can claim that it was for my career. But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want you near my family.” Max was tempted to bring up getting a restraining order. If he did, he knew right away that Jos would call him weak, spineless, even pathetic. Jos loved to chuck insults at just about anyone, including the man that he called son.

“Max?” He heard coming from the front door. He turned around to see Y/N standing there looking concerned.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“Nothing, liefde.” He quickly switched back to English. He didn’t want to alarm Y/N that anything was wrong even with the concern that was shown on her face. “Everything is fine.”

He was trying to be reassuring to her. Hoping that she could tell that he had everything handled and wanted her to go back inside so Nico wouldn’t be left alone in the house.

He could see that Y/N was looking past him to see who was standing there. Y/N never pressured him to talk about his father, even if she was curious about what had led them here.

“Please, go back inside.” He pleaded. He didn’t want her around Jos.

He saw her stand up straighter before making her way back into the house.

He turned back to Jos and saw he met his eyes he could see something in him shift.

“You’ve got a good wife, strong, understanding,” Jos said, and as the words left his mouth he wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile at having Jos be proud of something he chose that wasn’t racing or punch him for talking about Y/N. “Looks like my son has gotten at least one thing right.”

“I’m not your son.” He said. He finally got his father's approval, and now he was quick to realize that he didn’t want it. “Now, please leave. I won’t ask you again.”

Jos didn’t say anything back. He didn’t walk away either at first, but as they stood there Max rooted his feet into the concrete of the driveway. Jos nodded before walking away.

It was strange watching his father walk away. He finally saw that Max had grown up and was his own person. As his father disappeared into the distance, all he could feel was a weight slowly lifting off his shoulders. Almost like it was easier to breathe.

He let himself take some time before he made his way inside the house. As he walked back to the house, it was the first time he felt like he didn’t have to watch over his shoulder.

He opened the door to see Y/N standing there with Nico by her side. He opened his arms for them, wanting them close. He breathed in the scent of her hair, feeling the press of Nico into his other side. He was so grateful for the two of you.

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra

[thursdayinspace]

does anyone else ever see a breath of relief in here? from scully? the way she just lets go. she was determined to leave, to walk away from him, and here she is taking a step in the opposite direction, steps right into him instead. she saw a wall between them, and he opens a door for her, and the way she steps right through it looks almost like someone coming home after a long and exhausting day.

everything he just told her -- she really didn't know. she had convinced herself that he didn't need her. and here he is telling her what she means to him, that he does need her. that she made him a complete person. and when she takes that step towards him he wraps his arms around her and holds her so close. that is not just a *please don't leave me* hug. that is an *i love you* hug. that is an *i can't believe you didn't know how much i need you* hug.

and she doesn't really *step* into the hug, she doesn't fall into it either. she doesn't melt into it. she lets go. she stops fighting. she exhales into it. it *has* been a long day for her. it has been a long few weeks or months for her. she is hanging on by a thread, she is being held together by rubber bands stretched to their absolute limit.

he gives her the words he couldn't say before, and her defenses fall, the tension on those rubber bands eases, and everything she's been trying to bury deep in her heart spills over. whether she thinks it's a smart idea or not, she loves him, utterly and completely, and he asked her to stay, told her how vitally important she is to him. his words, the urgency in his voice, the look in his eyes begging her to believe him -- she needed that, and she needed him, and she needed him to love her. and he does. their partnership means as much to him as it does to her. she means as much to him as he does to her. and besides so many other emotions she is feeling here, there is that breath of relief. she doesn't have to lose him.

and in true scully fashion, the relief with which she steps into that hug is her non-verbal response to his words. she mirrors them back to him with her face pressed into his chest. and there is relief in the way he hugs her too.

[loganwritesprobably]

Save Me

Law & Reader fic for anon for my 200 followers event

Content/Warnings: Law & GN!Reader, angst, Law doing doctor things, reader struggles with mental health, inspired by how to save a life by The Fray

"Hey, make some time to come to my office today." Law told you in passing when you were leaving breakfast, and he was just arriving. What? That was a little ominous, but you just nodded and continued on your way. You had things to do, maintenance around the tang, so you set about your tasks. Law's words rang in the back of your mind for the rest of the day, haunting you while you tried to focus.

Around lunch time, you knew you needed to go see him, because if you didn't you'd just be distracted, unable to work as his words were all you could think about. A dozen possibilities circulated in your mind, but you couldn't guess what it was he wanted to discuss.

You knocked gently on the door to his office, and when there was no response indicating whether you could or couldn't enter, you slowly opened the door and peeked your head through to see Law sitting at his desk and working on papers. "You wanted to see me?" You said, hesitating there in the doorway. "Oh yes, come in and just sit down." Law said, quickly shuffling his papers together and off to the side of his desk. You did as he asked, pausing before you sat in the chair opposite him rather than on the examination table. Now this was really odd. "What was it you needed, Captain?" You asked after a brief, awkward silence. "I just wanted to talk to you about some.. things you've said recently." You said a lot of things, so that wasn't particularly helpful, but it was something at least. You had a brief flash of concern when for just a moment you thought maybe you'd upset someone on the crew, which was of course the last thing you would ever want to do.

"Everyone is worried about you." Law said, and all the air rushed from your body. Oh. Now you understood. At least you knew what was happening now. "Oh. Okay.." You trailed off, unsure of what he wanted you to say to that. Clearly, Law wasn't too sure what he wanted to say either. He knew the conversation was important, and apparently was needed, but he just didn't know how to do it. Silence followed where the two of you sat, fidgeting, uncomfortable but with no words to share.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Captain." You said, hoping to prompt.. something. Anything really. "You know we all care about you, right? We'd miss you if you were gone." The words left Law in a rush, as if he needed to force them out, and you weren't surprised that it felt like that. You all knew he cared about you sure, but he wasn't often verbally affectionate. "I know Cap. Logically.. I know." "But that doesn't make a difference." Law finished, a knowing expression on his face. As if he'd experienced something like that before. "Yeah." You agreed, voice just a whisper. That was exactly it. Sometimes it didn't matter how much you knew that the crew cared for you, because the voice in your head would whisper that they didn't really, that they were only pretending. It was exhausting both to listen and to ignore it.

"You know if there was more I could do for you, I would. If you would talk to me I could.. prescribe you something? It might help." Law offered tentatively, but you just shook your head. You really didn't like the idea of being medicated. It wasn't something that you wanted, unless necessary. "And isolating yourself isn't a solution - don't think we don't see you doing it. It makes you worse, and I think you know that too." You looked down at your feet with a sigh, not giving him a response. Of course you knew, but it just wasn't that easy. But then, he knew that too. Law had been through the ringer, he understood if nobody else did.

"I want help, Cap." You whispered, and Law rounded his desk to pull you to his chest. Law was prone to small, casual acts of physical touch like patting someone's back or leaning against them - but a hug was special. You embraced him in return, clutching at him like he was a lifeline. "I've got you. I'm here."

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable

[wooziorgans]

13:27

pairing: woozi x reader

warnings: this one is set up kind of weird,,, it goes back n forth between past n present idk I hope it reads okay. hoshi doesn’t like reader initially. vernon makes a “they hit the pentagon” joke. idk just woozi n reader being in love n saying it for the first time.

word count: 1.5k

you don’t exactly know what’s going on with jihoon, but you suspect that he’s (in some way) superhuman. something about him is weird, and your speculation is that he has two hearts; one for seventeen, one for you.

he’s been a little different lately. ever since the two of you made it official, he’s been a lot softer. he’s more lenient with letting you touch him. often times, he seeks out your attention on his own. it’s very clear that he loves you, that he’s in love with you, you just can’t quite understand how it even happened.

jihoon has so much love to give in general. while he might not be the best with his words out loud, his actions speak volumes for him. even as friends, he always just seemed to know. he knew if something was wrong, if you were upset. he knew if you had something to tell him, if certain things he did made you happy. small quirks of his that you loved more than anything would make you smile softly with this look in your eyes, and he would do them more often just to see you happy like that.

jihoon always knows, and while he’s not good at saying it, he hopes that you know that he loves you.

and you do. you know he loves you. it’s a little strange transitioning from the dynamic you two had as best friends to partners. he used to groan whenever you wanted to hold hands. now, he gets shy and the tips of his ears redden when your fingers brush his. jihoon has changed, and it’s been for the better.

it was soonyoung who had given you two the final push towards confessing to each other. “he loves you a lot, y’know?” he had said one night. it was after seventeen’s monthly meeting, and vernon had decided to rent out an arcade for the night as his chosen activity. without even a word from jihoon, everyone seemed to have the same idea.

“yes, you can bring y/n.” seungkwan was the one to verbalize the groups collective thought. and so here you were, racing against soonyoung in mario kart at the arcade.

being civil with soonyoung was still a new concept to you. it wasn’t that you and soonyoung had it out for each other, it’s just that he was very hesitant about your presence. jihoon hadn’t really mentioned you much, and then he started bringing you to hang out with the rest of seventeen, and soonyoung had his suspicions.

he just didn’t trust this new figure, one that claimed his spot as jihoon’s best friend. god forbid, jihoon confessed in a drunk phone call that he was in love with you, and soonyoung became even more suspicious of you. he didn’t know your intentions, and he had yet to see if you had jihoon’s best interest at heart for himself.

“hoon, i don’t think he likes me very much.” you had confessed, back slumped against the mirror in the practice room as soonyoung had basically been holding mingyu at gun point to run over a specific part of the dance they had just learned again. jihoon laughed softly, hand awkwardly patting you on the head.

“it’s not that he doesn’t like you, it’s just that he doesn’t know you and he’s being careful. i’m sure he’ll come around soon.” and jihoon was right. all it took to absolve months of tension between you and soonyoung was giving him a little tiger plushie you had found at a pop up market the week prior.

he had gawked at it, and then smiled at you before speaking. “okay, i like you.” and he ran off, out of jihoon’s studio without another word or the chance for you to even say anything after handing it to him.

“i know he does. i-i love him too. he’s very important to me.” soonyoung laughed softly, before cursing as he got hit with a red shell.

“you’re in love with him. it’s okay.” and maybe kwon soonyoung had all of the secrets to the universe, or maybe it was just obvious. whatever was going on in this arcade, it caused you to lose the race, hands freezing on the steering wheel.

“you lost to soonyoung?” it was jihoon. of course it was. he threw his arm around your shoulder, ruffling your hair softly. the dumbstruck look on your face still didn’t change. one: because soonyoung of all people was able to tell that you were in love with jihoon. two: because you had just lost a game of mario kart to kwon soonyoung.

soonyoung had shot jihoon a look, nodding softly, and it all clicked for jihoon.

vernon had peaked around the arcade machine and muttered something that sounded a bit too much like they hit the fucking pentagon when he saw the look on both of your faces. joshua shoved him, and soonyoung found his exit as you and jihoon stared at each other.

“we’ll talk about it later, okay? just enjoy yourself here. can you do that for me? just for tonight.” jihoon had all but whispered. you listened, and let him kick your ass at guitar hero.

a week later in the privacy of his apartment you talked about it. both of you cried. both of you felt stupid for wasting so much time by dancing around each other. but a week later, you were together. officially.

you think there’s something wrong with jihoon because being in love makes him a better person. he denies this fact vehemently, but everyone else agrees with you on it. love makes him softer. he’s less stubborn, more willing to work on communication; sure he has a long way to go, but he’s less emotionally constipated than he used to be.

what gives him away is his eyes. they say the eyes are the window to the soul, and you’d have to agree. while he’s often blunt and abrasive towards those who don’t know him well, jihoon’s eyes give him away everytime. he’s not the cold caricature people draw of him. he’s sweet. jihoon is so sweet, and you tell him so often. he might roll his eyes at you when you say it, but there’s a certain amount of love in them that’s reserved just for you.

“there’s something wrong with you.” you’re having dinner with him in the studio.

jihoon just laughs. “yeah, i know. i work too much. we’ve been over this before.” he shovels rice into his mouth.

“no. not like that,” you sigh, picking at your own food. “you have so much love to give. i don’t know how you do it.” jihoon doesn’t say anything. he just looks at you as he puts down his chopsticks, urging you to continue.

“like, between me and seventeen, i don’t know how you do it. you just… you care about all of us. you’ve loved the guys long before you met me, and then i come into the picture and you still have love to give. i don’t know how you do it. and i can’t figure out why.” jihoon stares at you. it was obvious that he loved you, sure, anyone could see that. but almost six months into this relationship and he hasn’t been able to say it. neither of you have ever said the L word, even in conversation.

“i—” he starts, and you shake your head softly.

“you don’t have to say it, jihoon. it’s okay. i know you do.” but he shakes his head and clears his throat softly.

“no. i want to say it, i just don’t know how.” he shifts in his spot on the couch, fingers twitching as if they were reaching out to you.

“it doesn’t have to be anything extraordinary. sometimes just saying it on its own is enough.” you turn to him, hand finding his as you brush the back of his hand with your thumb. he doesn’t pull away or flinch. he just basks in it; in the feeling of your hand on his, and the way you look in the afternoon sunlight.

“i love you.” it’s simple, like him, but it’s enough. it’s enough because you can feel it everywhere in everything he does.

“i love you too.” you push your head against his, and he smiles. jihoon smiles so brightly that it reaches his eyes. he leans in carefully, and kisses you with the same tenderness he always has.

you know that there’s nothing wrong with jihoon. you know he has one heart, and it’s all yours.

a/n: these little time stamp thingys r supposed to be short but I got carried away whoops. also reminder that my requests are open!!! also also tysm for all the love on the last one of these that I did woahhh. glad we r all in love w jihoon amen.

[ophelian-darling]

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬.

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Jonathan Joestar, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Josuke Higashikata, Giorno Giovanna and Jolyne Cujoh - gn reader.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : There's more than a way to say I love you, yet there are many too ways to say I hate you.

TW : Obsession, delusional thoughts, verbal abuse.

enjoy ♡

𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫:

♡ : Thank you for everything you do for me, JoJo.

It fills him with blessing to know how much his words and actions are something with great meaning in your eyes. Faithful servant when in love- except that everything he does sources from the warmest atoms of his soul and from the deepest corners of his heart. Jonathan fights the world to see you happy, and rests with a smile when he earns the slightest curve of your lips; to him, it's the ultimate gift he can ever receive- your Love.

- You mean nothing to me.

Tears- everything that would wash him with agony strikes at once. the sensation of tearing the flesh of a heart open accompanies your words; deeply cutting and painful, causing all of his insecurities to float : Am I being useless again darling? Am I being a burden? Have you grown tired of me? He can't help it when he sheds these tears: He had lost all of your affection and care. the only source of warmth he had, now doused in the cruelest way possible. 

𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 :

♡ : I like you , you're awesome!

Just imagine it, that ghost of a blush coffined beneath a confident smirk and a glinting wink! Joseph catches a love fever once you state that his presence around you is enjoyable. He feels that he already aimed at the moon by gaining your trust and company- it meant that you were besotted with him in return, regardless of whatever you said about considering him as a mere brother or a dear friend. JoJo sees the colors of your eyes soften as you say so, it is surely, undoubtedly love!

- We're done.

a swift of a cut that it doesn't elicit any pain at first, then it's repeated again, slightly stinging, then it rolls down your tongue, fully sinking in his soul. How could you?! Was the thing in the middle of your chest a hard stone to not see or feel a fraction of his love towards you?! a heavy realization of being used falls on his head like a heavy anvil: the blood in his veins floats just right under his skin, painting anger as red, yet the pale dread underneath can't be helped. Why? He would scream at you, but the reasons were nothing of an importance, you just toyed harshly with his feelings. 

𝐉𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐊𝐮𝐣𝐨 :

♡ : I'm always by your side. 

It ignites a pleasant warmth within his heart and shines through his eyes; it confesses his undying love and loyalty for you, regardless of whatever mean words he utter. No force on earth can banish him from you: From the depths of Inferno to the ends of earth and above in the heavens, He would remain with you forever, his lineaments engraved under your eyelids and in the darkest curtains of your vision. JoJo doesn't show it, but he's on cloud nine to know that you're staying as well- that he finally earned your love. 

- Nobody loves you, not even me.

He's already aware. Half of people fear him, the other hates him, and there were you, probably feeling something negative swirl inside you towards him, now confirming it with each spiteful letter you let out. Couldn't you just shut the fuck up and swallow it instead of saying it out loud? He spits, the words of you reiterating louder and louder in his mind that now he can't unhear. You've just ruined everything for him, he had peacefully thought that everything went well, that your protests and complaints were just a childish fit- but now, it's all so grotesquely real: you truly hated him, and for the first time ever, he has no idea what he should do. 

𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐚 :

♡ : You're cute! I like your hair!

Nobody can stop him, the boy with a heart of diamond and eyes of warm seas! Everything in his eyes glints with beauty; especially you: everything about you is a well crafted detail, say your eyes, your smile or the contours of your face. The subject of his daydreams- they were made of spring rain drops and cotton candy, the enchanting human whom he had a silly intense crush on called him cute! Was there even a better time to be alive? to be praised by someone you adored was the epitome of being coddled beyond any wishes of a young man madly in love!

- Look at you, pathetic and ugly.

Huh?! 

It's all that he can think of as a response. Your words take a slow effect on him; as if he was trying to process it in another different light, in a gentle way that didn't convey the clear in them. At first, He's at sixes and sevens for a few minutes: people who are in love together were supposed to have each other's back, to boost each other's confidence and accept them whatever and whoever they were- so why were you saying this to him now? obviously it wasn't a joke, your voice was too cold to warm the words into a playful comment, he would have accepted them if you were just a tad above expressful, not a doll that just stares back eerily. He should be angry, but it just melts in tears, all of his hidden insecurities emerge into existence, and not even Crazy Diamond is able to fix the shatters of his heart. 

𝐆𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐨 𝐆𝐢𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 :

♡ : You mean the world to me.

Galatea to Pygmalion, Juliet to Romeo, Layla to Qays- You to Giorno. Romanticism wasn't something he was versed in, but in a blink of an eye, the world fell into a pink blur, filling everything with such amour a human never had in a little heart. GioGio ponders to himself that you were an Angel, a poor pure plumed creature that tripped and fell into the land of the stained; worth to be kept in a vitrine till the sun burns away. The smile that dances on his lips when he hears your gratitude, the joy he feels when his efforts of shielding you are finally noticed by you equate the flow of sweetness he tasted for the first time he saw you: Love.

- You're a monster. 

The gray flicker in his eyes blends with the greens of his irises; it doesn't reflect on your face that you just hurt him, while having the audacity to brand him as a monster. His patience contained all of your attitudes, he bottled up every evil word you threw at him and continued to offer more than he should for the sake of winning back some or little of your affection, but to no avail. The mayhem under his skin is concealed by force, consuming whatever left of his patience as he makes you toe the line. You're selfish- you always were, yet he can't help his love for you. 

𝐉𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐣𝐨𝐡 :

♡ : Good Girl! 

Valentine, Friends and dates- High school sweethearts and kisses! Her world is a ridiculously colored picture of a sunny day; her imagination paints a world where she is with you and nothing could ever go wrong. How much would she offer to just touch the tips of your fingers with her hands? nothing less than what she is able to count! JoJo wanders around you in the excitement of a puppy around its master, waiting for a treat or a word of praise for pleasing them. She wants you to say it again, over and over again, to no end! A Good girl was a girl in Love! 

- How annoying you are. 

She had heard someone she loved before say this, but who were they? 

Remorse falls heavily on her like a dark curtain- She'd just ruined the best thing she ever had in life. She blames herself for being too clingy, too needy and too desperate- she carries the shame and burden like weights on her shoulders, staggering as the remains of her confidence seep through the fractures. Your sweet words and praises were brightening her existence; was she to be something if you didn't adore her? The talkative, open and daring Jolyne is now nothing but a silent, gloomy and wounded little girl, asking for a little of love and receiving none no matter how much she gave. 

[wordsinhaled]

hi there! I started following you after seeing your essay-long answers to DBD things in tags, and it made me very happy to see someone as deeply analytical as me about this show.

I wanted to ask you: if you were given the final say, how would you want the show to confirm both Charles' bisexuality and his romantic feelings towards Edwin (as both can be done at different points)?

Personally, I can't get the idea out of my head that it will be done with some kind of tragic goodbye, somehow Charles and Edwin have to separate, and Charles either verbally confirms it or kisses Edwin goodbye. Not saying that's what I want, but it's what I expect the writers to do.

Hope you're having a good day.

btw, would love to hear you talk more about timerogue (Fifteen/Rogue), I need more essay-long analysis about those two.

Hi there! <3 I am so happy you have enjoyed my tag rambles! And thank you so much for asking this great question, I had a lot of fun thinking through it!

I have many thoughts on this! Sticking them under a cut eventually because it is a long post!

Re: Charles' bisexuality: So the thing is I think that the DBDA universe generally seems to eschew labels in favor of showing rather than telling the audience what the characters' identities are. For example Jenny is interested in dating women, which is clear from her dialogue, and she goes on a date with Maxine, but she's never labeled anything. Edwin is never labeled anything by anyone in the narrative, either, but the narrative shows us that his only love interests and his desires and romantic feelings are for other boys. I would argue that we have been shown textually that Charles is bi, already, the same way the show shows-not-tells us other things. Charles by the end of the first season feels bi enough to me in a way that just feels like someone... living a bi life, and not yet realizing they might in fact be in love back with their best friend. I don't know how else to put it but I hope that makes sense. (My alternate, slightly sappier version of canon is that Charles fell for Edwin the first night, but has shoved it down for the duration of their friendship, but the former feels more likely as the direction I think we see on screen.) We are being told Charles is bi:

In the way Charles himself draws parallels between why he likes Crystal (his romantic love interest) and Edwin, pointing out they share the exact same traits

In the way he gives Crystal and Edwin the same genre of deep, loving gaze

In the way he thinks Crystal is fit, and he checks Edwin out, on multiple occasions, but only flirts with Edwin overtly in episode 8 ("My smile is pretty convincing," plus more than the usual amount of physical touch/proximity and less plausible deniability) once he can be assured by Edwin's recent confession that doing so will not be poorly received

In the different kinds of softness and masculinity he displays around both Crystal and Edwin

In the way that, despite not knowing the ending, he draws a parallel between himself and Edwin & a pair of lovers from classical mythology as though it is the most natural thing in the world to bring up the story of Orpheus & Eurydice, making overt the romantic potential of his relationship with Edwin

In the way he is so quick to write off that the two jocks were "just best mates" the way a person does when they are recognizing their own queerness in themselves and have to keep themselves safe from it, because of the environment that they are in (Charles being the Sports Lad, needing to fit in with other sports lads, and needing to avoid the censure/violence of his father)

And coming off the above, in the way that Charles navigates along the toughness-sensitivity spectrum within the social constructs of being "the brawn"

In the entire sparring scene in episode 1, tbh. The rituals are very intricate /drops mic

I understand the importance that's been placed by fandom spaces on "confirmed canon" queerness that is spelled out in so many words, given a label that can be pointed to to say "This character is definitely this!" but I think (and this is just my personal opinion) it can be reductive sometimes, and I don't really want Charles to label himself in that kind of way, just as much as I don't think the other characters needed the labels to "confirm" the queerness of their relationships or indeed of the show; having him be the one to do it for being bi would set him apart. I also think taking into account the time period that he grew up in, Charles would care more about living by the truth of how he feels and how he can use those feelings to connect with the one he loves, than what to call it. I just don't think we're gonna get like a "Hello my name is Charles Rowland and I am a verified bisexual"-type scene in season 2, and I think that's okay, and I don't really think that's the way for the show to 'confirm' it. Mind you I would love to see Charles talk about how it makes him feel to realize his feelings, and how his feelings for Edwin are different compared to how other people make him feel, because god, I love Charles so much and I just know such a scene would both destroy and heal me. FEEL YOUR FEELINGS, CHARLES <3

I think it says something really important that many, many, many people took one look at Charles Rowland and said: "Oh, he's bi." Not like... he has bi energy, or could plausibly be bi, or whatever; for so many people he just resonated as being bi, in a very organic way. (I know there are people who do read Charles as being straight/having rejected Edwin in s1, and I respect that, but they probably will not like my ideas about Charles very much, then, tbh.)

For what it's worth, though, Jayden's acting choices playing Charles, and the way Jayden (and George) have addressed the 'straight best friend Charles' line of questioning during interviews, both make it seem to me that Jayden is intentionally playing Charles as bi and we are already supposed to understand this for what it is, based on Charles' actions—just as we understand similar things about other characters inner worlds we are shown. Whether Charles is consciously aware of it yet is more the up-for-debate part to me, personally. It's like he is dancing right on the edge of the revelation, or something, but his actions (and his EYES) are speaking for him pretty loudly already.

As for how he confirms it more obviously? Hmm. Well, I'll admit i think a kiss between them would be lovely, if only because I think it would quite possibly be the Most Kiss a kiss could be, with all of Charles' tenderness and adoration for Edwin poured into it. I also think it would be in-character, given Charles canonically misses kissing, and wants to do it with people he's interested in romantically (see Crystal).

Charles struggles with being able to admit romantic feelings out loud because he is scared of his own capacity to hurt Edwin; after all the only example of "romantic" love he has seen was his parents' marriage. Charles is a person who acts first, thinks later, but in this process of understanding what he feels for Edwin he's taking his time and being the opposite of impulsive. This shows how important his relationship to Edwin is to him and his commitment to Getting It Right. Even with that deliberateness, though, I think it would still be easier for him to express himself through a tangible action like a kiss than through words—at least at first.

It reminds me of this scene from the first draft of Maurice between Maurice and Alec. Alec is struggling to verbalize his feelings for Maurice, although he does know he feels them. He can say other things, but naming love for what it is is the challenge; and in the end they use a shared memory of a time Alec showed his love through actions (running through the rosebushes just to see Maurice's face) to communicate and mutually understand their love for each other. Similarly, Charles finds it difficult to admit a deep romantic love aloud, but his actions speak louder, in his determination to retrieve Edwin from hell ("There's no one else—no one else—I would go to hell for") and he can allude to the romantic implications of the act, by referencing the Orpheus & Eurydice myth. It similarly becomes, I may not be able to say the words, but you and I both know the lengths i would go to for you.

Maurice : "I love you, sir be damned." Alec: "Maurice"—never before had the word been spoken—"you're an angel." Maurice: "I don't want to hear that." Alec: "Maurice, Maurice" his voice failed also; he had once said the rest to a woman. "Maurice - what you've said I feel. Understand?" M: "I think so, but I want to be sure. Remember those rose bushes in the other rain? - Look at me hard - That's right. That'll do. It's settled."

As far as the catalyst for Charles revealing his feelings... a tragic goodbye—gosh, as heartbreakingly compelling as I know seeing George and Jayden act that out would be (I know they would crush it), I really hope the writers don't do that to them! The thing about Payneland that is so refreshing to me is how they manage to subvert trope expectations and break out of the tragic narratives they are placed in, and I think they would ultimately defy any attempt at separation. As Edwin says, "I will make sure that doesn't happen," about them ever being split up. I am rooting for a happily ever after for them, because they have both been through enough, and have fought tooth and nail to stay together.

Steve Yockey has mentioned potentially having Desire of the Endless cameo on the show and I also think having them and Charles interact would be a fascinating way to bring to light some of the deep-rooted stuff Charles struggles with around love (and would nicely parallel Edwin's experience with the Cat King which catalyzed his Charles-feelings realization). I also like the idea of the team maybe meeting a couple during a case who parallel Edwin and Charles and are romantically involved. Seeing that would allow Charles to externalize the way he feels for Edwin by seeing it reflected back to him by other people; sometimes things are easier to pick up on in others than in ourselves. I think that would be a fun way to get him to see what's been there under the surface for some time :)

Oh my god this got so long asfhlgkjhg SORRY

(I'm sure the Doccy Who fixation will come back in time for the Christmas special! :D)

[idkanymoreokay]

I have so many thoughts on the friendship between Flynn and Cassandra, I could write a million essays on it. But something that has really jumped out to me during my current rewatch is the way these two just easily understand each other without even trying.

They talk without having to verbally communicate most of what they're saying. They don't even seem to be aware of the fact everyone else in the room is looking at them in confusion because they can't hear the unspoken parts of the conversation.

They bounce ideas off each other so easily, instantly pick up on each other's trains of thought, and practically finish the other's sentences or ideas.

These two neurodivergent geeks, who never had anyone in their life truly grasp what goes on inside their head, suddenly found someone who knows and it's like they instantly latched onto that connection.

Cassandra also has her very close friendship with the other LITs, and Flynn has his relationship with Eve, but it's their friendship with each other that lets them both explore and indulge the parts of themself that other people just don't understand.

Cassandra is definitely the one out of the LITs that is most like Flynn, both in her skills as a Librarian and also in her personality and how her lightning speed thoughts tend to get translated into her words and interactions with others. (Which is a whole other topic I'd love to dive into another day.) But, yeah, it makes so much sense why they have no trouble at all understanding each other.

(Edit: Nope, that was supposed to be the end of the post but I have too many thoughts that need to be shouted into the void. Their friendship is very important to me. So...)

Jumping back to the very beginning - During the first two episodes, Flynn is perpetually annoyed by Ezekiel and just kinda ignores Stone. But Cassandra… He's absolutely fascinated by her from the moment they first meet. He takes a minute out of their incredibly urgent life-and-death mission to discuss her being a synesthete and geek out a little over the fact she has an eidetic memory like him. And Cassandra's immediate reaction of "Yes, wow" is like she can't believe someone is capable of immediately understanding what's going on inside her head and is 100% okay with that and not at all bothered by her being "different".

And then they get to Stonehenge:

And I think this is the moment Flynn really starts to appreciate how brilliant Cassandra is, and how very much like him she is. Flynn is a fairly competitive person with a genius brain like no other, but he doesn't get upset or offended when she takes over the calculations, and even carries them out faster than he could have. If anything, he looks genuinely impressed. He instantly understands what information she needs and readily gives it to her so they can continue solving the puzzle. They immediately settle into this easy back and forth, this rapid exchange of information and clues as they work at putting together the pieces. He's able to talk to her in a way he can't talk to anyone else. It's probably been a long time (if ever) since he's interacted with someone who can keep up with him.

Even after Cassandra has betrayed Flynn -- causing him to lose his home, the only family he had left, his best friend, and potentially his life -- he instantly accepts her back on the team and even sticks up for her when the others object. At this point, she hasn't apologized, shown any indication of remorse, or had a chance to make amends. And it doesn't matter to him. "She had her reasons" - and that's enough for him. He lets her out of the cell and immediately wants to hear her plan for stopping the Brotherhood.

And I think this is the moment when Cassandra -- similar to Flynn's realization at Stonehenge -- suddenly realizes that someone else can grasp her thought process. That someone understands the way her brain works. That someone is capable of following her trains of thought and not getting lost in the ordered chaos of her mind.

Just look at her smile!! She is trying to get across what she wants to say, and she's so used to having to break things down for others and still not being understood, and here's someone who instantly picks up what she's trying to convey. Look how utterly happy and excited she is when he gets it.

I love how much they appreciate each other's genius. I love how they can communicate on a different level. I love how much they genuinely care about each other.

And I absolutely love that it's through Flynn that Cassandra manages to have her moment for redemption, because he's already clearly demonstrated that he's the one member of the group she doesn't have to prove herself to.

I just... 😭😭😭

I love that Flynn has zero people skills and a very weak grasp on the concept of friendship and yet he meets this brilliant, weird, amazing young person and pretty much instantly connects with her. Because, like her, he also spent most of his life invisible and now someone actually understands him and is already so important to him, even if it's a while yet before he'll really fully understand the concept of friendship.

I love that Cassandra has spent most of her life feeling unseen and never truly accepted by the people around her. And then she meets someone who immediately sees her and understands how her mind works and appreciates and trusts her, and who introduces her to this life of mystery and magic where she can use her talents to save the world… and she already knows that he's important to her even if she doesn't realize just how much her life is going to change because of him.

There's SO MUCH more I could say about their friendship, but I should probably channel some of it into an actual blog post at some point. For now, here's some cute moments I grabbed while getting the screenshots for this post:

[agentrouka-blog]

When Sansa poses as Alayne, she experiences Bastardphoia firsthand. Not only is she being mocked and openly insulted, but she is also being confronted with the common stereotypes of bastards (wanton, lustful, inherently lesser). She also meets another bastard child of an important lord (literally the king's firstborn!!! The daughter of her fathers best friend) and befriends her! Genuinely likes her, cares about her, and worries for her! How people read all that and can say to themselves "well the idea that Sansa and Jon would reunite and then actually get along is preposterous, she is clearly a judgemental stuck up cow" I will never understand. The entire Alayns arc seems (to me) to lead to her coming to a greater understanding of the one bastard she knew before coming to the Vale.

Sansa really doesn't have that much to learn on that front. Her first scene contains a compassionate assessment of Jon's limitations in life and how they might affect his behavior:

Sansa sighed as she stitched. "Poor Jon," she said. "He gets jealous because he's a bastard." (AGOT, Arya I)

Sansa has one moment of genuinely unkind thoughts about one (1) peasant boy, when she's jealously angry at Arya for playing with him instead of spending time with herself.

But there really isn't any evidence that Sansa is "bastardphobic" (what a word) in a way that is different or worse from any of her siblings including Arya.

Being kind to Mya isn't new or learned behavior. It's Sansa's normal behavior, and any deeper understanding of the bastard experience she gains while posing as Alayne is only augmenting what she already knew and what she already understood and what she herself already experienced as a disgraced "traitor" hostage, socially ostracized, accused of tainted blood, denied a proper wardrobe and subject to verbal and sexual assault. And through all this we know Sansa can cling to her true identity, so to her it always remains an act, even an escape, unlike it is for Jon.

So, I dare say, it's mostly window dressing on an already inherent ability to understand Jon as a person.

And yet, it enables lovely lines like this:

I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise. (AFFC, Alayne II)

<3

[vivalarevolution]

𝓥𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽'𝓼 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮

Viscount Aemond Targaryen x Curvy Stark Reader

Summary: She had never seen Viscount Targaryen , nor she ever exchanged a word with him. But that changed one evening, after which the man unexpectedly began to appear everywhere she looked , not letting her mind forget him. Even for a moment.

A/N: I'll admit I had a lot of fun creating the whole idea, mainly because a lot of inspiration was taken from the Bridgertons as well as from Pride and Prejudice, but I think the title explains it all. I can only hope you will like it as much as I do and you will enjoy reading it.

Please remember that english is not my native language and mistakes can happen.

Work contains smut.

Viscount Aemond Targaryen. A man known to few. With a mystery hidden behind his lavender eye, with a hair color of the December snow and a face cold and sharp like a stone.

He radiated both seriousness and arrogance, and with every word he spoke there was a sense of crude indifference to all those he considered unworthy of his presence.

And yet , despite all this , despite his status and sense of superiority , he stood here, stood and looked at the woman he couldn't have.

Her skin looked as soft to the touch as the most expensive velvet , her hair smooth and glistening , were pinned up and styled , highlighting her face , which was adorned with full , kissable lips and rosy cheeks. Her curvy body hidden behind the material of an expensive dark purple dress left little to the imagination , letting his eye and mind feast.

But whenever he tried to force her to level gazes with him her eyes seemed to run away from him. She never submitted to him. Instead, she chose to hide from the man, which made him want to hunt her, suddenly being more determined than ever in his life. And just as he was about to seize her , trapping her in the snare of his long arms , a female hand grabbed his shoulder, halting his movements.

-Mother - he said through a clenched jaw, looking at the older woman out of the corner of his eye.

-Where are you going Aemond? - she asked , wrinkling her eyebrows in consternation -Your betrothed has just arrived , don't keep her waiting - she confessed , shifting her gaze towards Floris Baratheon , who was standing at the other end of the ballroom.

-There are matters , which I must attend to. Immediately - he replied in a controlled and cool tone of voice, gently pushing his mother's hand away , leaving her before she could stop him physically or verbally.

His steps, like himself, were full of control and composure without betraying his true intentions even for a moment. Intentions that were able to crush him under the weight of future consequences, which, despite everything, seemed of little importance to the viscount ,especially when he finally found the mysterious woman who has clouded his senses with her mere presence.

She stood on the balcony , gazing at the night sky , letting the moon illuminate her immaculate face , giving her person an almost angelic glow.

But when Aemond crossed the threshold , placing his foot on the marble slab , the stranger's gaze almost immediately turned in his direction , finally allowing him to drown in the depths of her eyes , which looked at him with intrigue as well as a shadow of irritation.

-Who are you? - she asked , looking for an answer in the features of his face , unfortunately unsuccessfully.

-I should ask you the same question Miss- he stated , walking slowly towards her.

-And yet it was not I who burned the imprint of my eyes on the stranger's body - remarked the young woman , turning fully toward the viscount , now facing him -You did sir. And now you have decided to follow me.

-I did not follow you - he replied , placing his large hand on the stone railing , giving her a feeling of almost being trapped , by how close he was to her now - The truth is that I tried to find you.

-Since you have achieved this goal , what more do you want? - she asked almost in a whisper , studying his face , which was decorated with a long scar and a sapphire in place of the left eye.

-Your name. I want to know it- he said as quietly as she did , bringing his face closer to hers.

The air around them suddenly seemed to become hotter and heavier.

-I will tell it to you…if you tell me yours sir- she replied ,breathlessly , not knowing why.

-Aemond Targaryen - he said almost immediately wanting to know the name of the stranger, who with each passing second made him forget about the bride that waited for him downstairs.

-You're a viscount - she pointed out, placing her hand on his chest to create a previously non-existent distance between them.

Aemond furrowed his brow and took her wrist in his palm , feeling her quickening pulse under his fingertips.

-Are you worried that someone will see you with me? - he asked her with a shadow of amusement on his face.

-I'm worried about what a man like you wants from me , when he is about to marry one of Borros Baratheon's daughters - she stated , stepping away from the stone balustrade , forcing the viscount to let go of her hand.

-I simply wish to learn your name - he answered , repeating his earlier words.

-Y/n Stark - she said , finally revealing her identity, causing a satisfied smile to appear on the viscount's face, which disappeared as quickly as it appeared as she continued - Now if you'll allow me, I'll go my way and you go yours, and we'll act like this encounter never took place.

-Your secrets are safe with me , I assure you Miss - he reassured in a serious tone.

The woman's gaze fled from him for a brief second, as if she needed to think deeply about something. After a moment she shifted her gaze back to him, looking into his violet eye with stoic face.

-Goodnight lord Targaryen - she said before she left the man, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

When the silhouette of the woman disappeared , he wanted to follow her , but stopped himself , turning his gaze in the opposite direction. Yet he could no longer focus on anything other than the beautiful female he meet at the ball to celebrate the engagement, his engagement.

And he wasn't the only one.

It seemed that he was everywhere she was. No matter what she did , no matter where she went , his figure always appeared in the corner of her eye. He haunted her mind as much as she haunted his , and despite how much it tormented both of their souls , she kept her distance , running away from him like a game , while he was the hunter , hunting her. With each of their encounters being closer and closer to catching her.

Until finally there was nowhere to run , nowhere to hide. The only thing left was confrontation.

They met again at the ball , in the same place where their eyes first met , the first time they heard each other , the first time they touched each other's skin.

But this time the man wasn't alone.

Floris Baratheon held on to his arm , smiling shyly at the people who were watching the viscount and future viscountess.

And Y/n was one of them. Her eyes stared at them with a shadow of longing , that the young woman did not even try to hide.

-Are you all right sister? - asked her older brother, standing by her side since the beginning of the ball , watching her closely.

-Yes , yes - she whispered , turning her gaze toward the man, -I just need to get some fresh air.

Cregan sent her a concerned look but did not stop her , silently watching as she left the residence in a haste.

Her breathing seemed to become heavier by the minute , and her footsteps got more and more aggressive.

The realization of what was happening to her began to sink inside her brain. Miss Y/n Stark had fallen in love with a man who belonged to another.

And if fate hadn't mocked her enough , the bane of her existence appeared when all she wanted was to forget.

-Miss Stark - Aemond greeted her , standing still as she turned to face him.

-Viscount Targaryen - she replied , with distress in her tone -Why are you here?

-I saw you leave in a hurry - he explained , scanning her face, which had a grimace of fatigue on it -I wanted to make sure you were okay.

-Why? - she asked , frowning her eyebrows -Why you do this when your betrothed is inside , waiting for you. Why do you do all this? These unexpected encounters , fleeting glances. Why my lord?

The man suddenly appeared by her side. He was so close that their breaths mingled and there lips almost touched.

-Because I care about you - he confessed with seriousness in his voice , looking hard into her eyes.

-You don't know me. And I don't know you - the woman said , stubbornly trying to push away the viscount , but in vain - We can't love each other , we can't.

-And yet, despite your proclaims , I can no longer eat , I can no longer sleep , I can no longer breathe without letting you consume my every thought - he proclaimed , capturing her cheek in his large hand -You haunt me in my dreams , you haunt me during the day , you haunt me when I'm with my family , you haunt me when I look directly into the eyes of my betrothed - he growled , brushing her ear with his lips -You can deny it , but at least don't make me do it , don't make me continue to suffer without you by my side.

Y/n felt as if something had possessed her.

His words made her finally forget, but unfortunately not about him, but about the outside world that was so close to them, almost at her fingertips.

She let the viscount finally taste her full pink lips, embraced her wide hips in his rough hands, and dragged her to the carriage standing just behind them, locking them inside. The interior of it suddenly seemed so small , as their bodies pressed against each other.

His palms, large and warm, touched her in places that were forbidden to him, but in his movements there was not a shred of thought about the later consequences, only uncontrollable lust.

-From the moment our eyes met, I knew that I had to possess you, that I had to make you mine - he whispered into her neck, gliding his nose over her pulse, brushing the skin of her neck with his tongue again and again, leaving wet marks behind.

The woman moaned quietly in response , closing her eyes and tilting her head , making herself putty in his hands , which he took advantage of by pushing her onto the seat ,kneeling himself on the floor of the carriage , with his large hands running over the white material of her dress , therefore revealing the smooth skin of her legs , which he sensually kissed, leaving an electrifying sensation that caused her to shiver.

Her eyes closed involuntarily when the viscount's lips found their way to her heated and moist inner thighs , while his fingers melted into her firm bum , lifting her curvy body so her ankles could fell on the man's broad shoulders.

His teeth found their place on the woman's undergarments, tearing them in one strong movement, which caused the cold air to hit her sensitive womanhood, that trembled under the sudden change of temperature.

-Aemond - she whispered , calling him by name for the first time - What are you doing? - she asked, looking down.

-I want to taste you - he muttered , kissing her ankle - I wonder if you taste as sweet as your lips do - he said , slowly pulling up her long gown , so that nothing would block his view of the woman before him.

Before Y/n could respond to his words , his tongue touched her swollen clit , swirling it around the pink pearl , making her uncontrollably thrust her pelvis forward , imprisoning the man in the softness of her thick thighs.

Aemond , in response , growled , clamping his hands on her firm flesh , drawing her impossibly closer , feasting. His mouth explored her femininity , kissing and licking every part , leaving nothing without his attention . He was bestial , greedily drinking her juices , which tasted like the sweetest dessert of his life , as his eyes stared at the woman in front of him , who was consumed by convulsions of pleasure that tore their way through her body , making it burst into flames that consumed her mind.

The viscount watched with delight as she broke under her first orgasm of the night, licking everything she gave him , feeling under his fingertips how her muscles went limp , and seeing how her eyes became clouded by uncontrollable desire.

-Aemond - she said breathlessly , desperately grabbing his jaw , trying to pull him close to her.

-What is it my sweet? - he asked , purring like a cat.

-Please…please…make love to me, Aemond - she begged, brushing her lips against his, tasting herself on them, combing her fingers between strands of his white hair.

In response, the man embraced her curvy body , securing it in his strong arms , positioning the lovers so that this time he was resting on the seat , placing Miss Stark on his legs , immediately proceeding to assault her neck with slow kisses, while his hands crept to her throbbing entrance , which was waiting for him , embracing him tightly as he inserted two fingers into her , sensually moving them.

-So warm and tight - he muttered into her ear , biting its lobe - Full of desperation and need.

-Don't make me wait…I beg you…I can't stand it - she whimpered , burying her face in the hollow of his neck.

Viscount took her flushed cheek in his hand , making her look at him while his other hand skillfully unbuttoned his black pants , freeing his thick and long member , which he directed at her wet entry , entering her slowly and carefully , looking deeply into her eyes.

She felt like she could feel him in her throat. He rammed her insides , mixing the feeling of pain with pleasure , spreading it from the top of her head to her toes. She moaned, whimpered and mewled, letting him move her as he pleased, making her see stars. His member was hitting sensitive places that were never known by her, making her walls clench tighter and tighter against him.

The second orgasm that overtook her body felt overwhelming , yet he kept moving, wanting to feel the sensation of her thight walls clenching onto him for as long as possible, before he did what he wanted from the moment he saw her. He maked her his.

Y/n moaned softly, feeling the sudden heat that poured from inside of her , right between her wet and sticky thighs. Holding the viscount by the neck, she pulled him even closer, snuggling into his muscular body.

Everything seemed to quiet down around them. The windows of the carriage fogged up through their passionate act , and the air became hot and suffocating. However, they did not care , they were too busy melting into each other's embrace.

But this changed when she heard his words , whispered directly into her ear.

Will you marry me , miss Stark?

[dotthings]

Some tea from Richard Speight, Jr. about filming Cas’s testament scene has surfaced from DLC6. [x]

nothing cut from script to screen but they added things, such as Cas having to paint the sigil on the door and leaving the bloody hand print on Dean’s shoulder [my note: wbk about the additions during filming. There's still the matter of the spanish dub because the latam dubbing team felt a verbal I love you from Dean, made sense. And a few other lingering questions that have not actually been resolved and we may never know, but I'll go along. If Rich is happy with what was filmed and got to screen in the US, I'm glad. I love 15.18 either way. Rich's comments also goes to show how collaborative making tv is and how fluid the process can be.]

Rich said the scene wasn’t intended to be about Dean’s reciprocation, it was to give Cas his moment to speak his truth, to speak his love for Dean, and Cas didn’t expect an answer back, he just wanted to be heard, wanting Dean to know. [my note: makes sense to me, and it’s what I’ve thought about Cas pov. Cas pov not being the same as audience pov and what the story might need next and what Dean’s needs are. But for that scene, Cas feels complete. It also very much means the emotional story from Dean's side is not resolved. Dean wasn't given his chance yet, by creative design, perhaps because the only way they could get this greenlit at all is if it was only Cas who got to speak. We'll see what happens next.]

Rich saying because they did many takes of the scene with Dean’s emotional reactions, there are shots where Dean is crying more, or crying less. Editing put together different angles from different takes. [my note: the irony that naysayers are already trying to weaponize this to shut down the idea that anything got cut when per Rich himself, the facts on the ground are that the full range of Jensen’s acting for Dean’s response got reduced. No shade on Rich. But let's not erase or deny what was going on with Jensen's acting and how Jensen gave 110% and what wound up on screen was about 80% of whatever work Jensen did. Dean wept more than we saw, even before Dean was on the dungeon floor sobbing. Jensen’s performance as it stands is beautiful and powerful and full of emotion. It has taken an inordinate amount of hate and erasure, which is 100% cynical concern trolling to deny Dean’s feelings for Cas. More shots of Dean crying openly wouldn’t stop it, there’s no excuse for those responses. What’s there is loud enough. Only the most willfully cynical gaze could deny the love and anguish Dean showed.]

Rich said the parallel for John and Mary’s confession in TW 1x07 to 15x18 is a “coincidence” yet went on to talk about the trope of confessing love in a life or death situation and cited Leia and Han Solo among others [my note: it was also used again by an ep Rich recently directed in another piece of media I won’t say so I don’t spoil it. Also I’m laughing about how it seems he answered this. Total coincidence!! And spn 15.18 is like TW 1x07 is like Han and Leia and love confessions in dire situations is a common (romantic) trope. Pls, if anybody is taking away from this some kind of shutdown on creative recognition of the Destiel implications of it all, I don’t even want to know, I’ve had my fill of poor comprehension skills, poor critical thinking, and poor media literacy, oh my god]

Rich saying he was glad Cas’s words meant a lot to queer fans and that he feels it was important and a “bold” move that Bobo and Misha fought for. <3

So that's confirmation from director now, to add to writer intention, both actors, and an EP who greenlight Bobo's pitch for Cas’s testament as romantic. That is canon. That is a lock.

Cas's testament started out carefully padded into an “open to interpretation” zone. We have watched it be eased out of it and into the open.

I’m pleased it's openly acknowledged for what it is...and what I knew it was when the ep aired. I did expect it would be eventually, and would take some time. I’m glad it's here now.

As always, my appreciation for the work Rich, Bobo, Jensen, Misha did on 15.18 <333

[sweetiepoison]

Famous Baby (blurb)

The Final Straw

Warnings: verbal argument, angst, smut (oral receiving and giving, P in V) buckle up bc this is an emotional rollercoaster.”

“You’re so rude!”

“And you’re selfish!”

You scoffed, “Im selfish because I don’t think you need to make a speech?”

“It’s a congratulatory speech.” Auston clarified, “on behalf of the team-“

“The only people that need to make a speech are Justin and Ryan.” You cut him off placing your hands on your hips, “The owners of the company.”

Drew House was turning 5 and Justin’s mom had the idea to put together a party to celebrate the accomplishment. She wanted it to be big and filled with Justin’s friends, family, and the things he loved the most.

So she planned a few different meetings for everyone to get together which unfortunately for you included Auston you flew to LA specifically for this.

“So I can’t make a speech, but you get to sing a song?”

“Do you want us all to sit in silence the whole night?”

“Dj’s have a job for a reason.” Auston crossed his arms over his chest. “And they can play actual good songs.”

On any other day Auston’s jab about your music wouldn’t bother you. You deemed him useless and untalented musically speaking. But today, the comment put you over the edge.

You took a deep breath before calmly responding “Hire whoever you want Auston, I don’t care.”

Your cold tone, took Auston back. He didn’t expect you to switch it up so quickly. And only two outcomes were plausible now. The argument ends here or you were about to go off.

Auston knew this was a fragile moment and how he responded would determine the outcome. He should’ve just silently agreed or even gave into your idea, but he was stubborn and good at self sabotaging.

“You do care.” He pointed out, “If you didn’t you would’ve shut up at the beginning of this discussion and let me be in charge.”

And that was enough for your deep breaths and the counting method your therapist taught you to avoid outbursts to be forgotten.

“You know what Auston, no asked you to be in charge because they know you suck at it.” You’re voice rose with every word, “If you were good at being in charge you would have a winning team, but you don’t.” The venom in your words were no competition for the fury that filled your eyes, “The only reason you are relevant enough to even be sitting here is because Justin loves hockey. It’s not because you encouraged him to build the brand, or supported him every step of the way, or put in money for it to be successful.” You listed off what the others in the room, Justin’s friends and family, had done do ensure his success. “You’ve done nothing, but show up and ruin things, so you can sit down and shut up, because no one here cares about what you think.”

“Is that why you wrote a song about me.” Auston challenged, “because you don’t care about what I think?”

Your mouth went dry and your throat felt like it was beginning to close up. You swallowed thickly, refusing to let the tears that so badly wanted to come out make an appearance. This couldn’t be happening. Despite the release of your new single you told no one who it was about, now Auston just did that for you.

“That’s it. I’m done.” Your chair squeaked as you abruptly stood from it. “Auston, go fuck your self, Scooter, I quite.”

You stormed out of the room the door slamming behind you. The table fell silent following your exit, no one knowing what to say or do.”

“Go get her.” Scooter, Justin’s manager sighed rubbing his face.

“No, we don’t need her, especially if she doesn’t want to be here.” Auston sat back in his chair crossing his arms.

“She was one of the most important people sitting at this table. Scooter paused, “Go. Get. Her.”

“She’s a big girl, she made her choice. And now you want me to chase after her?”

“I don’t care if you have to get down on your knees and beg for her forgiveness, she better be sitting at this table tomorrow.” He finalized standing up himself, the discussion was over.

Auston didn’t follow you immediately, his pride too strong. He waited until the evening when he had no choice but to fix things. There was less than 12 hours until everyone would meet again.

He reluctantly drove to your apartment after getting the address and penthouse number from Hailey.

Auston tapped his hands on his legs waiting for the elevator to arrive at the top floor. He could think of a million things he would rather do than apologize to you, but his friendship meant more than his dislike toward you.

Following your show in Arizona, Auston made it his mission to push down any type of feelings he had for you. The two of you together would be complicated and that was something he couldn’t deal with, not at the start of the season.

Between the time he knocked on the door and you answering, he debated just leaving, but he didn’t have the time to do that once you answered. Auston couldn’t keep his eyes from wondering down your body at the short cotton shorts that hugged your hips and the cropped tank top that dipped down to show cleavage. His thoughts were only interrupted by your voice.

“Can I help you.”

“Ummm yeah,” he stammered forgetting what he had planned to say eyes still focused on the way you leaned against the doorway, one arm holding open the door as the other rested on your hip. “I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?” You showed no emotion, but didn’t miss the way he had yet to look you in the eyes.

“This afternoon.” Auston finally looked up meeting your eyes with his own. “Saying those things.”

“Yeah, that’s sounds really sincere.”

“Can you please just let me in so we can actually talk?” Auston huffed annoyed that you were holding your ground.

You rolled your eyes but stepped to the side to allow him in. You closed the door and walked past him to the couch in the center of the room. “Okay, start apologizing.”

Auston sighed sitting on the wooden coffee table across from the couch. “Listen, (y/n), I’m sorry for what I said. I was angry and,” he sighed again frustrated at the lack of words coming to mind, “and I’m just really sorry.”

“Wow, that was more pathetic than the first attempt.” You crossed your arms, “but I’m not surprised considering you never apologize for anything. This is probably a lot for you, trying to use words with more than one syllable.”

“You done?”

“No.” You shook your head sitting up straight. “It’s one thing for you to not like me, but embarrassing me like that when you know that song was vulnerable for me, was just mean.”

There was lots of gossip surrounding the song you revealed at your show. Later that night you released the recorded version and the next morning it was everywhere. The discussion about who it could be about was a hot topic, everyone wanted to know, but no one did. Even when your best friends asked who it was about you brushed it off saying it wasn’t about anyone specific it was just a concept you thought of.

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“You never think!” You shouted, “you just say things and do things without thinking about the consequences.”

“I apologized what else do you want from me?” Auston shouted back throwing his arms in the air.

“Nothing.” You stood up and stormed toward the door and holding it open. “Get the fuck out.”

“What the hell is your problem?”

“You. You’re my problem. Now leave.”

“Im not leaving until we figure this out.” Auston responded not looking at you and refusing to stand.

“You don’t get to decide when this conversation is over. You are apologizing to me.”

“Then fucking accept my apology if you want me to leave.”

“No. Your “apology” was terrible.” You put air quotes around the word apology allowing the door to close in the process.

“Then I’m not leaving.”

“Fine, then I’m calling security.” You announced attempting to make your way to the phone on the side table by the couch, but Auston blocked your path.

“Move.” You threatened trying to push past him, but Auston wouldn’t budge.

“Will you just…stop being so fucking difficult?” Auston held onto your arms to try and keep you in place.

“No.” You pulled your arms back with a surprising amount of strength, but Auston got to the phone before you could and threw it across the room.

“What the hell is your problem?” You reiterated his question from earlier.

“You. You’re my problem.” His voice came out strained.

Both of you stood chest to chest breathing heavily. Auston looked down at you, he wanted to walk away but he couldn’t. Watching you so worked up, breathless from arguing and cheeks red. You looked so pretty, and you were standing so close, and he was so turned on. So he didn’t think, he just acted as he leaned down, one hand placed on your neck and kissed you.

You wish you say your initial reaction was to pull away, but it wasn’t. You sank into the kiss like you had been waiting for years for it. Your fingers clasped together around his neck as his free hand found a home on your hip.

You kissed for a long time taking turns opening your mouths wider giving the other person more access, neither of you coming up for air. Auston sat down on the couch, pulling you down with him. You kissed down his neck as you straddled his waist. Auston’s hands rubbed up and down your back under your tank top as you continued working down his neck and back up nipping at his earlobe. He tugged lifting your tank top over your head and tossing it in the corner.

“Fuck.” He groaned noticing that you decided to not wear a bra with it leaving your bare chest in front of him. Auston dipped down to kiss the valley between your breast before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You moaned at the attention he gave them.

“You drive me crazy.” You whined raking your fingers through his hair.

“The feelings mutual.” He mumbled coming up from your chest and planting a kiss on your lips. You only broke the kiss to remove his shirt and then your hands were back on his body as his lips were back on yours.

“Stand up.” Auston demanded nudging you his knee. You did as told and watched as Auston got down on his knees in front of you without breaking eye contact. He couldn’t help but chuckling thinking back to what Scooter said about getting on his knees to beg for forgiveness. Watching the way your legs clenched looking at him, Auston knew he would get on his knees for you whenever you wanted.

You knew this was all wrong. You hated him and he hated you, but watching him hook his fingers in your panties and sliding them down your legs, that was right.

Auston placed kisses along your inner thighs before he tapped your leg “separate them.”

You couldn’t help the loud moan that escaped your lips as Auston’s tongue met your clit. You latched your fingers back into his hair and attempted to steady yourself. Auston held you firm as he continued to lick and suck like he had been walking in the desert for days and you were his first sip of water.

Your legs only became weaker as you felt him slip two fingers inside of you. They pumped at a rapid pace and you began falling apart around them.

“Aus, I-“ you started but couldn’t finish as you moaned loudly. The combination of his tongue and his fingers had you closing your eyes and seeing stars as you came calling out his name.

“I know, baby, I got you.” He reassured picking you up in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom. Auston placed you down as he stood at the foot of the bed.

“You out on quite the performance earlier.” You watched as he reached for his belt. “Calling me a bad leader, screaming about how I’ve ruined things.” He slowly removed his belt and unzipped his pants. “And my favorite,” he smirked climbing onto the bed. “Telling me to sit down and shut up.”

Auston leaned back into the pillows and placed clasped his hands together behind his head.

“I’m going to do that now and I want you to suck my dick until I’m whimpering like you just were.” You couldn’t help the way your body reacted to that statement.

“C’mon baby, I know how much you love performing.” He smirked down at you as you crawled between his legs, “put on a show for me.”

You swirled your tongue around his tip before slowly taking more of him into your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks and went down on him until he was touching the back of your throat.

“Keep doing that.” He encouraged as you used your right hand to twist and stroke the part you couldn’t fit. You let your mouth and hand move in a rhythmic motion.

“Just like that.” Auston panted eyes shut tightly.

“Open your eyes.” You moved him out of your mouth to make the request. Auston continued to breathe deeply eyes still shut. “I won’t continue until you open them.” You threatened waiting for him to look down at you.

“Good.” You said satisfied as he looked down. You hummed around him taking him further down your throat. It wasn’t long until Auston was grinding his teeth together to keep himself from finishing.

“I want to be inside of you.” He said pushing gently on your shoulder to stop you. Auston flipped you over so he was back on top. After stroking himself a few times he aligned himself with you.

“Absolutely not.” You grabbed his wrist. “Put a condom on, I don’t know who you’ve stuck that in.”

Auston chuckled reaching into the bedside table, while kissing your neck “it feels better without it.” His breath was hot against your ear and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you rethink.

“I don’t care. I’m not catching something from you, that would make this whole situation even more embarrassing.”

“Oh, baby, there’s nothing embarrassing about how good I’m going to make you feel.” Auston slid the condom on like you asked before thrusting into you. You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist wanting him as deep as possible. Auston dipped down kissing you roughly as he worked his hips into yours.

You two moved in synch, like you’ve done this before. As his hips went down, yours went up to meet in the middle, hitting the perfect angle.

“Tell me you want me.” His request was so soft you almost didn’t hear it.

“I do.” You reassured him, knowing your mind was made up in the living room that this was what you wanted.

“No. I want to hear you say it.” His voice was strained as he rested his face in your neck.

“I want you, Auston.” Your words seemed to encourage him as he picked up the pace.

“You’ve had a funny way of showing you wanted me.”

“Says the guy who called me overrated.”

“Says the girl who called me selfish and arrogant.”

“Says the guy who made me cry and exposed to everyone that I wrote a song about him.

Auston stopped moving his hips for a moment and met your eyes seriously, “you cried?”

“Im sensitive.” You shrugged “Plus I got an awesome song out of it, which is doing really well on the charts. So, ya know….it worked out.”

“Look at me.” Auston grabbed your chin to bring your eyes back to him, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever.” You brushed off the apology with a wave of your hand.

“No, (y/n),” There was something earnest in Auston’s eyes, a mixture of pleading but also reassurance “I’m, so sorry for hurting you like that.”

“I know.” You reassured him placing a hand on his cheek and brushing his hair out of his face gently. He may have been the one apologizing but you wanted to comfort him, reassure him that you truly forgave him, for all of it.

The moment felt intimate, romantic even and that was too much for Auston. It was one thing for him to fuck you, but a whole different thing if you thought it was anything more than that.

If there was one thing you agreed on it was that you both had very busy schedules and that you both were too selfish with your time to commit to something serious. The last thing either of you needed was love.

“Flip over.” He instructed

“Huh?” You looked up at him, and unlike the moment before Auston looked away.

“I want to take you from behind.” Auston watched as a look of hurt crossed your face, but it was only for a moment before you were doing as you were told.

Auston slipped himself into you again and began moving like before. He found the perfect pace again and had you screaming his name within minutes. He gave you a minute before he started back up. He wanted you to cum again. Partly because he wanted to make up for being such an asshole but a bigger part of him wanted to do it out of pride. He wanted you to think about this night when you were alone and touching yourself. And he definitely wanted you to think about it, if you tried being with another guy.

Watching you come undone a second time had Auston quickly following. You didn’t let him pull you back into his chest or hold you close before you were up and going to the bathroom.

“Don’t get too comfortable you definitely aren’t staying the night.” You tossed over your shoulder.

Right before closing the door is when you heard his response, “I didn’t plan on it.”

He made it clear that this was casual. You couldn’t lie to yourself and say that him making you turn around didn’t hurt, but you understood it. Returning from the bathroom, you watched as Auston redressed himself as you did the same.

You walked him back through the living room and to your door.

“We don’t tell anyone about this.”

“About what?” His look of fake confusion only lasted a moment before he was smiling and placing a quick kiss on your lips. “Don’t worry, no one will find out.”

“Goodnight Auston .”

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

[blondwhxrewrites]

A/N: This is for all my autistic homies. I fucking love you guys 😘. Btw this is based on how autism shows itself in girls/women. Remember for all my autistic girlies, never ever feel sorry for being yourself ❤️

"Mattheo, I'm autistic." 

Mattheo looked at you, mouth agape. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you quizzically, obviously confused. "What's that?" he questioned, his head tilting slightly to the side. 

You stared at him, unblinking. "You don't know what autism is?" You asked, slowly processing his lack of information. Was wizard society really that far behind? Damn. You sighed, chewing on your lower lip. How was one supposed to explain autism to someone who has probably no idea what disabilities even are? 

"Well, Matty, to sum it up, I don't work like other people do," you tried to explain while sitting down next to him. "My mind works differently than yours and other people's." 

He watched you curiously, taking in your words and trying to make sense of them in his mind. "Is that supposed to scare me away because, darling, it isn't working? You're not getting rid of me." 

You laughed, shaking your head. "I mean, it might scare some people away, but no, that's not why I'm telling you this," you replied, your heart swelling with happiness at seeing his positive reaction. "I'm telling you this because I want you to know that being in a relationship with me will be different from other relationships you have been in before." 

Mattheo nodded, his foot repeatedly tapping the ground. "Well, I'm willing to learn. So lay it all on me, baby," he chuckled, his lips curling up in a smile as he looked at you. He watched as you wrung your hands together, and he reached out, grabbing one of your hands and squeezing it. "Darling, I'm being serious when I say I want to learn." 

Your shoulders went slack, and you let out a deep sigh. The nerves you felt slowly washed away with the assurance of his words. "Well," you began.

"I have a hard time with social cues and reading people. If someone is mad at me or annoyed, I won't be able to tell unless they specifically tell me that. While some people might be able to take hints, I can't really recognize them. I need you to be straightforward with me about your feelings." Your eyes darted to his, making sure he was listening before you continued.

"I can't handle loud and crowded places that well. They make me overwhelmed and overstimulated, and that can lead me to have a meltdown. Which is when my mind practically shuts down, or at least it feels like it, and I kind of regress during those. I can't speak or do anything, and I tend to hurt myself during those, like hitting myself. I also sometimes hurt others when they try to help me through my meltdowns. I don't mean to; I just can't really control what I do in those moments. Sometimes even the slightest of things can cause me to melt down or panic. If a change of plans happens, I can sometimes have extreme reactions to it that can derail my entire day. I'm not very good with change. I stim a lot, and sometimes it can look weird. Like, whenever I'm excited, you know how I jump up and down and flail my hands? That's me stimming. Repetitive motions, stuff like that. I also have a weird relationship with touch and intimacy. It depends on the person; for example, I feel comfortable touching you, but with Blaise, I don't. It changes a lot."

Mattheo listened intently to your words, nodding along and trying to make a mental checklist. All of this was important to you, and that meant it was important to him too. He didn't care how long this conversation would take, he was willing to hear everything you had about this.

"I go non-verbal sometimes, and I can't speak or talk for hours up to days. I literally can't talk, even if I want to. That usually happens after meltdowns or when I'm feeling really intense emotions. I have sensory issues and can't wear some clothes because of how they feel on my body. My relationship with food is basically non-existent. I can't eat some things because of how it feels, and sometimes I go selective eating, and it's really hard to eat anything else besides my safe foods. I also just sometimes forget to eat because I don't really process that I feel hungry unless I'm starving. I mask my autism a lot, hence why people sometimes think I'm lying when I tell them I'm autistic. I tend to copy other people unconsciously. That's why you see me and Pansy having a lot of the same little habits. "

You finished, your voice faltering as you looked at him nervously, trying to gauge his reaction. "There's a lot of other things, but that's like a pretty surface-level breakdown of it." You added, looking away from him and at the ground. "Oh, and also, if you see me not looking at you during conversations, it's not because I'm not listening; it's because I'm just not good with eye contact."

It was a lot of new information for Mattheo. He'd never considered the fact that people could, how did you say it, work differently? He'd have to ask you more about it during a later conversation. "I can work with that," he shrugged. 

Your lips curled up into a smile, and your eyes slowly lit up. "Really?" you asked, genuinely worried that he was just playing with you. 

"Well, I mean, obviously, I have a lot to learn still, and I'm probably going to make a lot of mistakes."

"Everyone makes mistakes," you interrupted him. 

He shushed you, playfully pressing his finger to your lips to stop you from talking. "What I'm trying to say is that your being autistic changes nothing to me. It's who you are, and I love who you are. I promise you, I'm going to try my hardest." 

You felt tears prick your eyes, and you nodded. "You have no idea how much that means to me, Matty," you sniffled, and you squeezed his hand. 

"Like I said before, darling, you're not ever getting rid of me."

[pricescancerstickk]

Platonic! Simon Ghost Riley x Young! Child reader

(Took a tiny break, this idea is a bit tw) *edited*

**[TW AND WARNINGS : MENTIONS OF CHILD SEXUAL ASSAULT, ABUSE, PHYSICAL AND VERBAL ABUSE, READER IS 7 YEARS OLD]

Your parents were never available or present ever since you were as young as a baby, it was very cruel and unfair and you were forced to grow up too fast for someone your size, Screaming yelling, bottles breaking and things falling over piercing and deafening your ears, the shouts from your father when you didn’t bring beer fast enough. The sound of the slap and your moms hand connecting to your little cheek after you didn’t clean the dishes. It was a dark world and you knew it all. It didn’t matter where you went Via school or home there was never a safe place for you except for Your Neighbors Home. Simon knew your parents as the three were childhood friends. Seperating in high school, Your dad was simons best friend. Your father was a hunter when he was in his youth and it was why he had a shotgun on display in his home, Simon was a lieutenant. Serving in military. A remarkable soldier of the SAS. Why was simons home a possible safe home? Sure he had only seen you once when you were 3 years old. A delicate cute baby. He missed rubbing your chubby red cheeks, he missed you secretly. Still having those pictures of you and him. Simon holding you in his arms, a Polaroid picture.

But when going back to the thought of school and your parents was unfair. They never bought you toys, never provided any comfort whatsoever and doing as much as looking or acknowledging you in their presence. Looking at you like a bystander examining a bug. The way they beat you after you made one little mistake…Awful. Your other relatives weren’t any better. You tried telling any staff or calling the police on how you got harassed and groped even by your older relatives. Nobody believe a word from you? Why? They just assumed you were spoiled or lying to get something that you wanted..You really weren’t, but alas. They couldn’t see that. Despite your little body all battered and bruised, coming into school in a weak state and all bandaged. Nobody batted one singular eye!

Eyes fluttering open as the alarm clock rang. Waking you out of your dazed and sleepy state, you rubbed your eyes and slipped your feet into the slippers. Walking to the bathroom, Grumbling softly. “I don’t wanna go to school today…” your hand rested atop the sink. Turning on the water. Washing your face, spreading toothpaste onto the tooth brush before brushing your teeth. Tilting your head making sure to clean thoroughly. Spitting out afterwards and washing up. You changed into your clothes and brushed your hair. Taking the pink flowery school bag with you. It was cheap. Small. But enough for you and it fit your school books and all that was necessary and important for you to bring to school. You tried to ignore your parents arguing, as always. Both drunk and hung over. Sparing you a glare as you walked to the school.

(A little of the pictures I found to describe what it’s like for little reader to be playing alone)

You opened up your locker and set some of your stuff inside. Taking a book but a foot connected to your back and you fell to the floor wincing. But catching a flash of your reflection on the metal handle of the lockers. Red puffy eyes, you’d been crying the entire night, forced to suck it up and bear with it while you can. You couldn’t understand why life was so cruel. You were only in the first grade. You heard laughing. But didn’t realize it’d been going on for a while as you zoned out. They chanted cry baby as witnessing the sight of those round eyes filling up the brim like a river with all those big round clear, Tears. “It’s not funny! Stop it!” They kept kicking you over and over as you cried. They couldn’t get anymore childish than hanging that ‘kick me’ sign onto your back. Snagging it off and grunting. Crying softly wanting the day to end already but hearing the bell ring after so many hours your eyes widened in relief. You left the class as fast as you could. Snatching the bag onto your back and rushing outside. Shaking in fear knowing coming back home wouldn’t be good either..What could you really do though? You couldn’t run away. You didn’t know where to go.

“Sweetheart?’ A voice called out shaking you and snapping you back to reality, turning around and seeing it was Simon. What was he doing here? “Daddy will be mad at me I-if he saw you with me si” you gently spoke up, voice shaky. Eyes about to tear up, His blue eyes filled with concern. His hair blonde and short. He gently took a knee. Kneeling infront of you and taking that flowery bag of your back and hoisting it over his shoulder. Taking you into his arm. Careful not to trigger anything, “How do you carry that bag darling? It’s a bit heavy ain’t it” Gently he murmured as you clung onto him like your entire life depend solely on Simon. “Can we go to your home?..” whispering caught him off guard but he recently found out what had been happening at home, he loved you too much to let it happen longer. He nodded along and his long legs moved around the floor. Walking you to his home. Hand in hand, seeing your outfit. It was childlike and innocent, matching your personality exactly, Blue hoodie with those pink like suspender pants it seemed, (idk how to describe but it’s gonna be similar to the picture idk???)

Setting you down gently on his couch as he sat beside you and wrapped you in a warm blanket easing all of your worries. Slowly wrapping you in a blanket burrito before putting you on his lap. Watching your eyes look into his pale-like ones, They softened further he looked at you. Long finger tracing your cheek, touching the scar on it with a gentle touch like a baby’s caress. A light graze “they’re monsters. You’re never going back to them, your staying with me. Sweetie” he reassured as you couldn’t hold back tears anymore and your tears stained his shirt. Hands clutching on the dark shirt. Eyes wide and sad. “T-thank you” crying sweetly and heart easing as his hand went to the back of your small head. Pushing it into his broad chest and stroking your hair back. Pushing the bangs away from your eyes. The height difference was massive. You couldn’t grow up fast. Never eating well and being starved and at the age of 7 you were really short, about 4 foot something. But Simon was one of those blokes. His British accent gruff. Phlegmy like but soft and stern. He was on the phone as he ordered the pizza later after letting you decide what you wanted to eat. He took it and set the box on the table. Offering a slice to you, you took it and gently stuffed it to your mouth. His finger wiping off the cheese that sprinkled onto your face. A light giggle emitting from you. “It tickles..” you murmured softly and ate. As you watched the cartoons on tv in pure bliss it wouldn’t be long before those shitty parents came to haunt you

Ring

Simon placed down the slice of pizza. Standing up and pulling his phone out his pocket. Seeing it was your dad calling and his heart sank tiny his stomach as he answered it he argued with your father on the phone violently. There was no way in hell Simon was giving you to those so-called ‘parents’. He hung up and sat next to you again, seeing you already finished eating surprised him. You were sitting there a second ago. You must’ve been really hungry. He panicked, as he didn’t see you? “Y/N sweetheart? Where did you go?” His voice raised lightly, startling you,

“I’m over here si!” You answered back softly. But he found you on the floor next to the table with the colorful plates and toy kitchen. Sitting on the floor. Eyes looking into his, and that he forgot to mention he bought you toys before you came here. He had thought this through and planned thsi without knowing. He kneeled next to you on the floor “Don’t scare me like that again Y/N” he ruffled your hair a bit, Simon’s blue eyes were sincere. His face was chiseled and you always called the jawline ‘lines on his face’ because you didn’t know the word ‘chiseled’, you yawned soflty after a while of playing, tired. He was on his phone checking the time, he looked up and saw you laying on your side. Asleep, throughout the day after he picked you up from school. “Will mommy be mad at me?” Those words echoed in his head. Reading him of mid day when he gave you a little bubble bath to wash the wounds and dirt off your body. You were really skinny and he took note to feed you more than you need to at times. In a good, healthy way. He hated how you shied away from his touch, how your eyes filled with fear if he almost walked to you too fast. He didn’t want to hurt you in any way. He’d feel like a monster. The way you flinched or shied away broke his heart and shattered it like no other. Despite his entire family dead and haunting Simon, he could cope with you. He had a terrible past aswell. And you were a ball of sunshine in his life. The ray of light and the little angel that saved him after his heart was too dark to let anyone in to love. He shed tears for you. A sign how much he cared for you. Your tiny peck on his cheek and your hands wiping away the tears and your compliments to him were sweet gestures showed how you were comfortable and safe with him melted his heart like no other. He was a giant teddy bear to you,

Not a while after you fell asleep in his arms. His chin resting atop your head and listening to the soft snores and head buried in his chest. Wrapped in the blanket. On his lap. Resting like a baby, finding the empty pizza box you both ate together laying on the floor. The tv playing cartoons you were watching earlier. He carried you to his bed. Laying you next to him, snuggling you and planting a kiss on your head before shutting his eyes. Falling asleep with you, making sure you were safe before he slept next to you, both nuzzled up.