#i thought it would've been the other way around

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

My central thesis has always been that the Harkles wanted everything the Wales have and more. I know I remember reading that she cried after hearing William was made Prince of Wales. Right from the get go, her PR was all "Meghan is way better suited to be royal". Then there were all the Commonwealth flowers on her bridal veil and their insistence that they move into Windsor Castle. Now I don't believe everthing Neil Sean says, but his latest video mentions that Megxit was an ultimatum to get Windsor. As that is the traditional home of the Monarch, I feel as though they were attempting a coup.

Then there is the thought that Harry believes that the Dutchy of Cornwall should be split and he should eventually be made co-King or King of the Commonwealth. Let the Wales have that tiny island while they are jetted and feted around the world.

Here's my question for you. Did Meghan and Sparry REALLY believe they could leapfrog over the Wales??? I know her jealousy and envy of Catherine is bunny boiler level and he absolutely eviscerated his brother in Waagh. Has this been their plan all along?? Death by a thousand cuts for the Wales to force them to resign their place in the LOS or that they could somehow convince Charles to make Harry the heir??

I'd like to know where you think the delusions stem from. It wouldn't be the first time in history that younger brother has attempted to remove old brother from the throne.

Sincerely appreciate your blog and all the work you put into it. I'm always learning something new.

I'm pretty sure that was exactly their plan: they wanted to use their popularity to force The Queen to name them as her successors. I don't remember where I read this or when, but allegedly Harry sent "documentation" to someone - to whom specifically I can't recall, but options are The Queen, Charles, William, and/or grey suits - providing evidence for claims that he and Meghan were more popular than any of the others and deserved more than what they were getting.

And if they couldn't get the actual crown, they were going to do their damnedest to try and get a co-kingship with William. That's where Meghan's obsession with the Commonwealth came from; she had been told (again, I don't know by whom - all signs point to Harry exaggerating to keep her interested or maybe Charles spitballing ideas during his 'Magnificent Six' planning circa 2012) that William would rule Britannia and Harry would rule the Commonwealth.

I think that's why Meghan went all in on 'racist Kate.' Not only did she want to knock Kate out of the spotlight, she wanted to do enough damage that Commonwealth/realm nations would threaten to quit and The Queen would capitulate by offering to install Harry and Meghan as new leaders. This actually had a chance of working; it's been said quite often during her last years and since her passing that The Queen saw the Commonwealth as her greatest legacy and there was speculation that she would have done anything she could have to keep it in tact. And had Meghan played her cards right, she and Harry probably could have ended up becoming the main ambassadors of and for the Commonwealth, like a Commonwealth version of the UN Secretary-General.

But where the plan failed, obviously, was that it required blaming Kate for problems and issues that don't exist. Because remember, in 2021 when Meghan was making these claims, we'd just gone through the huge global reckoning that was Black Lives Matter and the agreement during/after BLM was "call racist people out on their BS. Put them on blast. Don't let them get away with it anymore." So not only would Meghan have been perfectly justified to name names, cite events, bring receipits, air the real dirty laundry and everyone would've been so much more supportive of it. But she didn't. Instead she played coy and said something like "I'm protecting them even though they don't deserve it."

Girl, please. That was Meghan's one chance to go justifiably scorched earth and air out all the dirty laundry and she fumbled hard.

Anyway. Let's get this train back on track. Where do the delusions come from? Traumatic childhoods courtesy of Mommies Dearest.

We all know Harry's story with Diana. She was a young, fun, free spirited loving mom larger than life with a neediness that she depended on her children to fill, rather than her own husband or other adults her age, so Harry grew to find satisfaction in supporting and providing her what she needed. He probably saw, and understood, the way Diana received what she wanted by exaggerating what she needed and following it up with excluding or isolating herself until whoever came chasing after her to give her what she wanted. And ultimately this led her (and Harry) down a path that ended up killing her; she exaggerated the relationship with Dodi to get attention from Hasnat or the BRF, then isolated herself in France to force whoever (Hasnat? Charles Wales? Charles Spencer?) to come chase after her. We know how that ends.

That's where Harry's delusions, IMO, come from. He saw how it well it worked (mostly) for Diana - exaggerate her needs/wants, then run and hide until she gets it - so he does it too. He probably started doing it right after she died, when no one knew what to do or how to handle him so they kept indulging in everything he wanted, so those wants kept manifesting bigger and bigger. And I think the way we see the BRF treating Harry is what would have happened to Diana had she lived; eventually the public would sour on her (this was already happening, by the way), which would then enable the BRF to grey rock her, devenomizing her in effect, and move on without Diana having too much of an influence on their day-to-day.

It's sort of similar for Meghan. We don't know specifically what happened (the way we do with Harry and Diana), but we know that Doria was a young, fun, free-spirited mother herself married to an older husband who had other priorities (eg kids from his first marriage). Unlike Diana, Doria probably didn't want the responsibilities of motherhood (which is the vibe Meghan and Thomas have given about Doria during Meghan's childhood) and left. And like the BRF, Thomas may have also overcompensated Doria's absence in Meghan's life by giving her everything she asked for, which made her asks get bigger and bigger and when Thomas couldn't deliver, she threatened to leave him...like Doria did and Thomas, erstwhile girldad he was, just kept throwing more and more at Meghan to keep her happy. Her delusions come from preying on other individuals' trauma to ensure she gets what she wants. The bigger her wants (ie the more grandiose her delusions), the harder she manipulates other people's trauma to make sure she gets what she wants. Which is kinda the opposite of Harry and Diana; they create the trauma to get people to do what they want, whereas Meghan exploits it to get people to do what she wants. Both are skills they learned after being abandoned (metaphorically and literally) by their mothers.

And all of Meghan's PR about "young mother," I think it's more insidious than that. Yes, it's a very overt evocation of Diana's narrative. Yes, it's a judgement against Kate. But it is also digs at Doria. "See? Motherhood is hard but I'm prioritizing my kid. How dare you to have left me" kind of spiteful digs meant to shame her for whatever happened that caused her to disappear. Meghan is the kind of person who must always have the last word, so I wouldn't be surprised if she's been targeting or belitting Doria about not knowing certain things about Archie/Lili because she wasn't around when Meghan was that age.

So...yeah.

I've realized now that this is the third or fourth Wednesday in a row that I write these super long analytical/in this essay I will posts. I guess Wednesdays are my thinking days...

[deerlottie]

🐰 — awkward

summary: just a professor!jackie blurb :P no smut

you knock on jackie's door, ruffling your hair in the glass to make it look presentable. you sigh out - you're so nervous. you really hope no one notices you in this part of the neighborhood, it wouldn't look good if someone caught you at your professor's house. not that you're coming here for a bad reason, but still, it'd be awkward. and it doesn't help that maybe you've been hooking up with jackie for the past couple of months, too.

you straighten up as you hear her fumble with the lock, putting on your best smile as she opens the door.

"oh, hello," someone that's not jackie greets you, and your smile falters for a second. "you must be sea, come on in."

you nod awkwardly and follow this mystery woman inside. you have no idea who she is. maybe jackie has a friend over? you wish she would've told you - you would've tried to dress nicer. the woman leads you to the kitchen table, telling you that you can place the wine you brought on the table.

"i'm shauna, by the way." she gives you a tight-lipped smile and you fumble with a piece of lose thread on your shirt, looking around the house. "jackie's wife."

your eyes widen and your heart sinks. what? jackie never mentioned anything about having a wife, especially when you were with her. just as you were about to respond, jackie comes sauntering into the room, smiling at the both of you. she claps her hands together and comes up besides shauna, giving her a kiss on the cheek that makes your stomach flip.

"you two already met each other, goodie!" she cheers, and you notice a slight apologetic look in her eyes as she brushes past you. "i'm sorry i couldn't be the one to let you in, i was getting ready."

"i thought i got the wrong house." you joke, chuckling lightly and running your hand through your hair as you sit down in one of the dining room chairs. "you, uh, you never mentioned that you had a wife…" you mumble, hoping it doesn't sound too much like disappointment.

"i like to keep things private between me and shauna." jackie responds.

maybe a little too private, you think.

"why don't you help me in the kitchen?" she asks you suddenly, changing the topic. "i'm sure shauna can taste test that wine for us in the meantime."

you glance over at shauna who nods and eagerly opens the bottle, pouring herself a glass of wine before heading to the living room. you agree, sheepishly following jackie into the kitchen area and closing the door behind you. you watch as she makes herself busy with preparing the ingredients, humming to herself.

"what the fuck, jackie?" you whisper-yell, coming up to stand beside her. "why didn't you tell me you had a wife? this makes everything so much more complicated!"

"i know, i know." she brushes her hair out of her face, turning towards you with a pout. she grabs your hands, bringing them up to her mouth to kiss. "i should've told you, i'm sorry. are we…can we still do this?" she gestures between you and her, looking at you with her big, wide eyes, which you can never resist.

sighing, you roll your eyes and nod.

"i guess." a smile breaks out, and you freak out a little when she brings you in for a kiss. "b-but not here! i don't wanna get murdered by shauna."

jackie continues to kiss down your neck, shoving you against the counter. your eyes flutter closed but you try to push her away, biting your lip as she licks by your ear. "why not? doesn't that make it hotter?"

[fuyuu-chan]

Hi bestie! You told me to drop in so here I am. I'm gonna leave a request while I'm at it hehe Hope you don't mind.

Can I request a Neuvillette fic inspired by Taylor Swift's "Anti-Hero"? I particularly like the lyrics "Hi, it's me. I'm the problem, it's me. At teatime, everybody agrees." It gives me the vibes of a reader who is shunned by society, y'know? Perfect for some angst if I do say so myself 🫣🫢

Anyways, do whatever fits your vibe. I just love the way you write our dear Iudex 🥰 No pressure though! If it's too much, then just consider this as me dropping in to say hello to you and your lovely readers. Have a good day!!!

Love,

Mayaree

It's me. Hi. I'm the problem it's me :)

Fuyuu-chan: Hiiiii beshy hahahaha thanks for dropping in lol 😆🫶 also for being the first to request 😚

Pairing: Neuvillette x Reader

Summary: Everyone doesn't like you and thinks that you're not worthy for Neuvillette, and so they make fun of you, some even ignored you. By the way people in Fontaine treat you it makes you feel insecure and question your relationship with him.

Warning: Mention of break up, a bit of yandere ish at the end?? It might not look like it for some of y'all but just in caseee hehehehe (Not Proofread)

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

The moment everyone in Fontaine knew about your relationship with Neuvillette would probably the worst thing that happened in your life, because of what people think about you, for not being worthy as the Ludex beloved partner.

And the worst part is that Neuvillette didn't know about any of this, they only talk about it when you're the only one around, when you're not with him. You consider to tell it to him but of course you don't want to bother him, especially since he's busy with his duties as the Chief of Justice.

Now, you got invited to one tea party held by one lady that has been "kind" to you, so of course you accepted it... 'I shouldn't had my hopes up, of course she is gonna be like the others' you thought. Who would've thought that she would be like that? She appeared to be kind to you the first time you met but when with everyone, with her friends and some other ladies, she had just embarrassed you.

She told everyone that (name) is just a common girl, basic, and compared to Neuvillette she's not on his level. She even told everyone that "She's just a problem to our dear Ludex, only a burden for him" she chuckles and everyone at that tea party laughed agreeing to what she said.

Feeling embarrassed, angered, saddened, you just excused yourself saying you'll go to the restroom but after you left you never came back but one thing's for sure, everyone hated you, talked behind your back while laughing. You can't handle it anymore, everyone is insulting you and the fact that you may be ruining Neuvillette's reputation, you feel furious but at the same time what can you do? I mean they're all right aren't they? You're just a problem.

Because of everyone saying things about you, spreading rumours around Fontaine, it's hard for you to go outside because once you do people would look at you and whisper to each other.

Some even threatened you, saying you should stay away from Neuvillette or you'll regret it. You thought it's probably just his admirers that's going way too far, but to be honest it's already affecting your mental health.

Well you did distance yourself from him, like when he ask you out like go to dinner, or have some date you would decline saying you have something to do or you're currently busy. But let's be honest you really wanted to spend time with him. He was at first: "It's alright, next time we could go." But as time pass he was getting worried and confused as to why you were not seeing him anymore.

Always rejecting him. 'What happened?' He thought. You two aren't like this in the past, you two would even date every time there's a free time like after work or weekends. But why are you distancing yourself from him?

This thoughts always bother Neuvillette and the way you act. And now he found himself walking towards your house to talk to you and ask you.

Once he arrives, he knocked on your door. It took you minute to open the door which definitely isn't like you at all since you always open the door immediately when it comes to him (he have like a pattern when he knocks at your door so you know it's him).

You were about to ask him but he just got in your house and closed the door. Now you two are just standing looking at each other, the air seems tense.

"...so uhhh...why did you come here?" You said finally breaking the silence.

"Am I not allowed to come here anymore?" He asked.

"That's not what I meant, what I mean is what's the reason for your sudden visit here?" You clarified.

"It's about you...us...why are you distancing yourself from me? What happened?" He asked.

"What do you mean?... I'm just busy that's why I can't really spend time with you..." You trail off hesitating.

"Don't lie (name)..." He said as he looked at you worried.

"Did I do something wrong that makes you distance yourself from me? If I did I'm sorry... but please tell me so I can fix it." Neuvillette asked as he looked at you in the eyes.

"You?.." you asked as you scoffed a bit. "No it's... it's me Neuvillette, I'm the problem..." You continued as you try not to tear up in front of him.

You can see how Neuvillette's furrow his eyebrows as he heard you speak.

"What? You're not the problem (name), what are you talking about?" He asked as he stepped closer to you.

"So you still don't know?" You asked.

"What do you mean?" He looked at you confused on what you mean.

"People in Fontaine don't like me, they hate me the moment they knew about us, they said I'm not worthy...for you... I'm just a problem...and a burden for you" you said as your voice is starting to break, you didn't even notice that you were now crying remembering everyone's word, insults, threats.

Neuvillette was speechless the moment those words left your mouth. How could he not know about any of this? Did all of the people hurt you like this everyday? He thought that everything was alright but it turns out it's not, how could he let this things happen to you?

Neuvillette wanted to comfort you but when he was about to approach you, you step back and said "I think we should... separate ways, I don't want you to get ruined or people thinking bad things about you because of me" you said as you try to look at him.

He stood there, frozen in his place. He was processing your words inside his head. "W-what?..." He finally get to asked after a few minutes.

"We should break up" you said.

"...But why?"

"Because of me...I was causing you problems, I might ruin your reputation in the future and I don't want that" you answered as you finally looked at him teary eyed.

Neuvillette then approached you as he pulls you closer to him, he held you in his arms. "(Name) please...I don't want to break up with you...Besides you're never a problem, people is just jealous of you and that's why they did that. Besides you will never ruin my reputation because when you came into my life, you taught me how to understand people, how to be considerate and many more. My reputation became much better with you."

You lean on him while you tear up, even if you don't want to but his warmth that enveloped you, you missed it.

"B-but.." you stutter.

"Sshh..." He hummed as he pat your back in order to comfort you just like what you did when he was crying. "I'm sorry I didn't know any of this, I'm sorry you have to go through all of that alone, I'm sorry that I turned a blind eye...and I'm sorry that I'm not there when you needed me the most." He apologized.

After you calmed down you replied to him. "...It's not your fault...so don't apologize" you sniffled as you finally looked at him for him to only wipe your tears away. "No love...it's my fault too for not knowing any of this, for not seeing how much you suffer everyday."

You kept silent as you just let him comfort you. Eventually you found yourself apologizing "I'm...sorry Neuvi...for saying we should break...up".

Neuvillette only shake his head "Its alright... I know you dont mean it, you might had said it but at that moment I can see in your eyes that you do not mean those words" he said as he smiled gently at you. "But...I hope to not hear those words again...I must say my heart ache when those words left your mouth." He continued as he looked a bit sad.

"I'm..sorry, its just that...that was the one I thought would be better for us..for you" you said as you looked down only for Neuvillette to grab your chin gently to make you look at him.

"Its alright...you dont mean that anyways right?" He asked and you nod and that was enough for him to smile again. "It's those people that made you think that...I cannot believe they had the audacity to say those vile things to my beloved, to my partner, who I love dearly from the bottom of my heart. I serve them for so many decades, I protected them yet they return all those things I did with this?" he said as he tucked your loose hair behind your ear. "They didn't even repsect the person I chose to be with me forever" he looked so mad that he let these things happen but you hugged him to calm him down a bit.

"What are you gonna do?" You asked while you lean onto his chest, he reciprocated your hug as he wrapped his arms around you waist.

"Don't worry love...I will handle it all...you just rest here and relax while I fix these, alright?" Neuvillette said as he rubbed your back. "It would also be nice if we could leave Fontaine for a few days to have your mind forget this for a while, don't you think?" He asked as he looked at you.

You hummed and nod. "I guess that would help...but how about your work?" You asked as you now looked at him to meet his gaze on you.

"I'll take a few days off, I'm pretty sure the others could handle the court for a while. Especially since there's no big cases as of now." He explained and that's enough for you to relax a bit.

You finally smiled and that made Neuvillette happy, seeing you smile again made his heart finally calm down and his mind to finally rest. For now he let himself relax on your warm embrace and for later...he would deal with those people that dare hurt his beloved (name).

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Please do not copy, translate, repost to any other social media, Thank you.

[reduxulousoctopus]

X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).

I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.

Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.

--

“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.

Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”

No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.

Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.

When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”

Morph winces.

“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”

“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”

From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”

“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”

“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”

“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”

The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”

“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”

To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.

Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.

Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.

How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?

Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.

“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.

He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.

“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”

Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.

“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”

Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”

“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”

That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.

“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”

Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.

“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”

The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.

“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”

Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”

“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”

“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.

“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”

“Who else knows?”

“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”

At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.

“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.

Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.

“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.

Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.

“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”

Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.

He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.

Badum-tch.

Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.

Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.

Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?

“Morph. Look at me.”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.

“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”

From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.

It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.

Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.

One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.

The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?

Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.

Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.

If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.

Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.

The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.

But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.

He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”

As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.

“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”

Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…

He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.

That’s real enough for him.

[isoobie]

LOVE ME BACK › lee heeseung social media au

010 go shoot ur shot

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ written part ━━ 🗯️ 1.1k

ring! the bell for the third period rang and you were off. making it straight to locker, getting the jersey and straight to the basketball courts. you shouted a quick ‘bye’ to your friends before rushing again.

it was when you arrived that you realised how full all the seats were. at the bottom, near the players, you heard screeches of excited girls cheering on for their favourite players while the top was full with intrigued students who just wanted to escape a mundane lunch break.

you squeezed your way through, finally make it to the entrance of the guys changing room while you felt your heart beat louder every second and just as you were about to knock the door, heeseung opens it to come in eye contact with you.

his hair, fluffy and messy with sweat dripping on the side of his face while his shirt was tightly clinging onto his muscles which you could clearly see through the white fabric— he had probably just finished practice, you thought. flushed, you avoid eye contact and look away only for him to say,

“you’re here? sorry, i didn’t know yet, wait a minute and i’ll show you the way to the seat i saved for you.” the smile on his face never left when he talked to you, which made you smile too.

you responded to him with a small nod and lifted your face up when you noticed he had gone back to the changing room. hand to your face, you felt them heat up from the smallest interaction with him— was this meant to be normal?

however, to distract your mind, you checked the time to realise that the match started in less than five minutes. ‘heeseung is probably taking a while’ you think to yourself before you start heading towards the main courts.

"yn, come i'll lead the way." he spoke from behind you, making you startled.

his tall physique stood next to you as you both walked together, side by side, one more inch closer and both of your hands would have been touching. you stopped yourself from thinking any further after you heard the loud cheers for heeseung's team.

the sight was intimidating for you— you remembered the fact that probably everyone in this hall knew that the two of you were 'dating' and expected something from the both of you. however, before you could tell heeseung about it you felt one of his arms wrap around your torso and lead you to your seat.

it was one of the front row seats were you saw yunjin waiting for you but before heeseung let you sit down, he bent down towards your ear and whispered, "i have a surprise too, if i win this match let's both give our surprises to one and other."

your face turned red at his comment, embarrassed but even more when he winked in you before leaving you with girls screaming at the interaction.

"even they know how cute you guys are, this is a sign yn."

"sign? he only did it to engage the crowd." you denied her words because you didn't want to admit the impact they had on you but before you could talk any further you realised the match had already begun.

the match was intense— it was a tie with only three minutes remaining in the game, heeseung’s team only had to score another hoop and they would've win. everyone anxiously waited for the ball to go into the last hoop before it was game over.

in the background you heard endless screams and chants, while others nervously wondered if their school would win it for them or not but you sat there, arms linked with yunjin, beaming with confidence.

ever since you had started liking heeseung, you dragged your friends to all his basketball matches, whether or not it was a rehearsal or not. you could say that was the start of your infatuation because going to those matches was habitual— you didn't remember the last time you didn't go.

although your friends couldn't care less about how well heeseung played, you had already memorised his each and every step he took and analysed his whole technique before sitting in the seat you were in. the way he dribbled, the way he passed the ball to his teammates, the way he shouted their names all the way down to the way his face would light up every time his team scored a point showcasing his small dimple on his left cheek.

and before you knew it, you heard the loudest cheers and claps from the hall as heeseung's team celebrated while the opposing school had their faces painted with defeat.

"yes!" you quietly screamed to yourself, glad you trusted your gut instincts.

however, lost in a trance, you didn't seem to register the fact that heeseung stood right in front of you, with his jersey in his hand. the girls who were supporting him, squealed louder and the crowd was wilder than ever. embarrassed, you took it from his hand while you shoved the one you got for him to his chest.

"you got me one too?" his doe eyes glistened with curiosity.

"funny enough, that was your surprise." you both erupted into a fit of giggles just when you heard comments about the two of you from behind.

'kiss, kiss, kiss!'

'wear them, please!'

'my favourite couple!'

'twin jerseys oh my god!'

the two of you wore them just how the crowd asked you too but then the words, 'kiss each other' seemingly got louder and louder with every one waiting for your response. heeseung looked into your eyes seemingly waiting for your answer.

deep down, you had made a promise, you knew no kissing was allowed in this fake relationship and you still wanted it, when were you ever going to get a chance like this again? but breaking an oath? you were better than that, so instead of fuelling into your obsessions you were ready to turn them down.

"we can't kiss each other now sorr—"

it was like every thing happened in a flash. you swore one second ago you promised yourself you weren't going to kiss heeseung but his lips moulded against yours and you couldn't help but kiss him back harder.

his hand wrapped around your waist, as he pulled you deeper into his mouth. you vividly remembered the scent of your jersey on him and the taste of energy drinks lingering on his tongue.

"there you go, we kissed, are you all happy now?"

'no i'm the happiest one now, hee' you wished you could tell him right then and there.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ PREVIOUS ・ MASTERLIST ・ NEXT

note ━ are you guys happy now? ><

[wrestlezaynia]

❛ shh. there’s people in the other room. ❜

"'Til Death Do Us Part."

Warning: Must be 18+ to read under cut.

It feels like its been ages since they've seen each other, when in reality it has only been a week and two days. Kevin reflects fondly on Sami strutting around wearing his newly won Intercontinental Championship with a grin and nothing else. A sight to behold. They celebrated his victory nestled in each other's arms after a passionate night of lovemaking, losing themselves in each other as they always do. Wishing there was a way they could stay together, knowing Kevin would have to return to SmackDown and go their separate ways.

Raw is in their hometown of Montreal and, despite Kevin sending a text to Michael Cole claiming to be watching Sami's match at home, he's actually boarding a plane and is on his way to surprise Sami.

He hatches a brilliant scheme on how to acquire a key to Sami's room. "Your relationship to the guest?" The front desk attendant inquires, studying Kevin incredulously. "I'm his husband." He fibs, a soft blush invading his cheeks. "He's so forgetful." The last part wasn't a lie.

The attendant nods and hands Kevin a spare key. "Enjoy your stay, Mr. Zayn." She bids him farewell before returning to her computer.

"Mr. Zayn." Kevin thought to himself, the blush growing deeper. He had to admit, that has a nice ring to it as butterflies flutter in his stomach.

With the thought of marriage weighing heavily on his mind, Kevin arrives at Sami's room. After emitting a shaky breath, he inserts the key card into the slot and the door swings open to reveal Sami on the other side, his back facing him, wearing only a pair of boxers. He lets his eyes wander a moment before tip-toeing behind him, careful not to make his presence known as he wraps his arms around Sami's slender waist. "Surprise!" He exclaims, causing Sami to jump out of his skin.

"Fuck, Kev." Sami curses under his breath, placing his hands atop Kevin's. "What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?" He asks, spinning around to face him. "Shh...there's people in the other room." He coaxes, hushing him gently with his index finger.

"That never stopped us before." Kevin replies, a gleam emerging in his pale blue eyes. "Remember The Bloodline's dressing room?"

Oh, Sami remembers. He remembers it vividly. It was the most erotic night of his life. He remembers the adrenaline coursing through his veins at the thrill of getting caught. He never felt so alive. His reverie fading when a thought occurs to him. "How did you get in here?"

Kevin's heart is in his throat as he meets Sami's gaze. "I, um, I told her you were...my husband." He confesses softly, the blush re-emerging on his cheeks, rosier than ever.

The room is dim, but even in the darkness Kevin can see the way Sami's face lights up hearing this, his heart beating fast. "Y-You want me to be your husband?" Sami asks, his voice wavering at the concept.

"I mean, you kind of already are." Kevin replies, admiring the way Sami's eyes twinkle in the moonlight, becoming lost in their warm honey glow. "Besides, I could do worse." He quips with a smirk.

Sami's eyes well with tears. "Oh, Kev." He whispers softly, capturing Kevin's lips in a tender kiss as he cradles his face between his hands.

A soft gasp emerges from Kevin's throat as Sami's lips brush against his own, the familiar feeling of home washes over him as he eagerly kisses back, amused by Sami's enthusiasm. "Wow," Kevin breathes, the air snatched from his lungs. "Had I known you were going to react like that, I would've proposed a long time ago!" He quips playfully.

Sami smiles at Kevin, eyes full of adoration. "I would marry you in a heartbeat." He replies in a hushed whisper. "You complete me, Kevin."

Sami's heartfelt words move Kevin to tears as he reaches up to caress his cheek, their eyes fixed in a steady gaze as he leans in close, brushing his lips against Sami's. Fingers tangling in his ginger curls.

Sami emits a sigh of contentment as soon as their lips connect, it's been so long since he felt Kevin's touch but he needed to feel more as he tugs at Kevin's shirt, which Kevin tears off with haste causing Sami to giggle. The giggling ceases, however, once their bare chests brush together. The sensation sending shivers down Sami's spine.

Kevin laces his fingers through Sami's as he guides him to the bedroom. Once inside, he gives Sami's hand a firm tug, pulling him into a fiery kiss before shoving him playfully onto the bed. His eyes remain locked on Sami as he proceeds to peel off his Basketball shorts, smirking at the mix of shock and desire on Sami's face.

The kiss takes Sami by surprise as he leans on his elbows watching the titillating scene unfold before him, licking his lips in anticipation. "Damn, Kev." Sami murmurs breathlessly, enjoying the view.

Kevin loves the way Sami makes him feel. He had often been self-conscious about his weight, but Sami always made him feel special and loved. "Tu aimes ce que tu vois?" He asks softly.

Sami nods slowly, letting his eyes wander. "Oui." He breathes, inching closer, missing the heat of Kevin's body pressed against his own. "Tu es sexy, Kev." His voice thick with lust as his gaze drifts to Kevin's lips.

In a fit of passion, Kevin smashes his lips fervently against Sami's. Firm, but gentle, the kind of kiss guaranteed to take your breath away. A kiss between two lovers who share the same heart. His guardian angel, his soulmate, his everything. "I love you, Sami." He whispers as he carefully lowers Sami onto the mattress, kissing every inch of skin.

Sami gasps at the feeling of Kevin's hot mouth on him, kissing and lightly nipping at his flesh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "I love you too, Kev." He whispers back, running his fingers through Kevin's short spiky hair as he continues his assault. "'Til death do us part."

Kevin halts his actions to shoot Sami a knowing smirk. "Man, you really want to get married, don't you?" He asks, teasing him.

"I do." Sami quips, the sound of laughter piercing the once silent room when Kevin rolls his eyes at him. "Set yourself up for that one, Kev."

Tagging: @loki69zowens,@wrestlingdespairings, @domripley, @cawcawmotherfker, @thewanderer-000, @darby--allin, @existwithpride, @mexxs-blog, @daddywrasslin, @smileceldaru, @fishgutsblog, @kayfabebabe, @racerchix21, @unintentionaloracle, @low-x-battery, @stardust181, @coloursflyaway, @riveliciousx, @kevinsteen, @pikapuff-316, @kristalynn94, @eleanor24, @wrestlingprincess80, @go-beatrizaf-blog, @anothersabah and @himbos-hotline. Thank you for reading, as always! 😊

[arandomperson5647]

Encanto info from Jared Bush's Q&As

This is a little place where you can find (hopefully) a lot of info Jared has said in his Q&As. This is if you wanna check smth and don't wanna go on a hunt to confirm it since it's been so long. Idk if I got everything, I highly doubt I did, so if you have a piece of info I don't have and have a link to it, I can edit it on. Ngl I'm also kinda doing this for myself cuz I was curious to know everything he's told us. I'll mostly summarize the answer so it isn't longer than it needs to be, but I'll also copy+paste if I'm too lazy.

The info here kinda varies from interesting, to obvious stuff, to potentially pointless but really any of it can be used to do whatever.

Some of the answers he provided aren't concrete solid ("I think __ would happen", "I always thought ___", etc), so take this all with a grain of salt. I'll try to phrase the uncertain ones differently so you know they're not 100% (probably, possibly, might, etc). If the answer he gives is completely up to interpretation, then I won't include it. Some might be repeated cuz I don't feel like looking back to see if he answered the same question twice.

Just to warn you guys before you click "keep reading", this is a LONG post, so if you don't want it fill up your page, don't click it unless you really wanna read everything.

Antonio's Birthday Q&A #2 (5/21/23)

Canon universe:

Dolores never truly believed Bruno was still around. She heard stuff, but everyone told her he was gone, so she thought she was imagining things. "I knew he never left" was her way of saying "I shouldn't have doubted myself."

Antonio was a shy kid and animals are were easier for him to make friends with.

The potteries in Bruno's room were because it was fairly public for people who want visions, so they're probably a nod to that.

When Pedro went to the attackers when he died, he was planning to reason with them.

Luisa's associated with donkeys because they’re beasts of burden and that’s how everyone treated her.

Mirabel has her embroidery because she loves her family, but potentially also because she subconsciously want to make sure the villagers know despite having no gift she is every bit a Madrigal.

Isabela might potentially secretly like Pepa's chaos.

Julieta's really good at hiding her feelings about the pressure of being the town's healer, but she's also a naturally strong person.

There's a reason why Bruno's single but Jared didn't tell us.

Bruno's favorite food is Ajiaco, but potentially also big butt ants.

Julieta probably noticed Mirabel wasn't in the pic at Antonio's ceremony immediately after it was taken, but Mirabel had already left by then.

For a while, Bruno's limit for future seeing was until the fall of Castia, but now it's limitless.

Alma didn't necessarily approve of Agustín at first because he wasn't overly spectacular or confident.

Mirabel and Camilo got along well when they were young, but after Mirabel's ceremony, Camilo felt more pressure to perform and show off.

Even before his gift, Bruno probably worried and wondered about the future, which is what caused his gift.

The Madrigals mostly assumed Bruno had somehow left the Encanto after his disappearance.

The birth of the miracle happened near the turn of the 20th century, and Antonio's ceremony was 50 years later.

The 5th birthdays for the Madrigals is the big one. The others are "regular".

Camilo often annoys Isabela for fun and also because he's a bit envious of her. They're kinda opposite, perfect vs a clown.

The post-movie relationship between Mirabel and Isabela is probably mischevious.

Bruno probably already was breaking from pressure when Isabela was only in single digits.

Alma was loving to all her grandchildren, but sometimes it felt conditional due to her expectations. She wasn't self-aware enough to realize.

Félix can play the tiple, but not shown in the film.

Agustín and Félix probably wore their respective colors before marrying their respective wives. Their colors are also a nod to regionality.

Alma might've seen cracks before Mirabel saw them at Antonio's ceremony (not at the moment tho), giving her a reason to actually believe Mirabel and pray to Pedro.

Based off the book "Mystery in the Rainforest", Dolores and Mariano are engaged and planning a wedding soon.

There is a school in the Encanto, but since it's closed off and was formed in the beginning of the 20th century, new info would cease.

Pedro might've been the one to know sewing and embroidery. He taught it to Alma, who taught Julieta and Mirabel. She probably taught others but Mirabel did it the most.

Bruno's door might've started glowing again during his vision in Antonio's room because Mirabel is making him feel included in the family (and therefore Casita) again.

The Madrigals do have friends groups, just not shown.

Camilo's gift can be tiring. Like an actor playing their part.

Mirabel probably would've had a negative or even traumatic impact from the fall of Castia, mostly due to a near death experience.

The Madrigals have never tested their gifts beyond the Encanto, so it's still a mystery on what happens.

Antonio probably can talk to animals from different countries, not just Colombia.

Camilo sometimes tries to impress everyone with his gift.

Mirabel's birthday became "stressful" ever since her 5th.

Isabela would probably help Antonio decorate his room with crazy plants.

Behind the scenes:

5/21 is Afro-Colombian Day, which is why that's Antonio's bday.

There used to be a deleted scene of Mirabel getting grounded by Casita.

The Guzmans originally had the same number of family members as the Madrigals, and each member was like a doppelgänger of each gifted Madrigal child, except Mirabel, who was represented in the Guzman family by a goat.

There used to be a scene where Camilo's gift goes haywire at night or smth (can't figure out the full pic for this one).

Writers considered early on that Mirabel would want to leave, but they decided that from a character and cultural perspective, leaving her family would have been the absolute worst thing she could imagine.

It's never been established how long the ceremony doors appear before the ceremony, but 9 months has been considered.

Early versions would show that Alma had strict parents. It may or may not be true now, but it would make sense.

Mirabel used to have a gap in her teeth to show her quirkiness, but was removed because they wanted to show it in other ways.

Encanto Disney+ Hollywood Bowl Q&A (12/28/22)

Cannon universe:

Emotions can sometimes affect Bruno's visions.

Camilo often helped take care of babies even before Antonio's birth. He was just naturally good with them.

The stairs in Bruno's room probably grew as he became more distanced, so they probably lessened when Casita came back.

Luisa's favorite sister is probably Mirabel.

Camilo would probably sometimes be happy that Isabela found her true self, while also a bit jealous. It depends on the moment.

The Madrigals' reaction to someone entering the Encanto would probably be chaotic.

As a way to protect them, Alma was always a little strict on her family.

Julieta and Agustín often worried how Mirabel was doing, especially for Antonio's ceremony.

Alma tried to show she loved Mirabel in her own way after her ceremony and before the movie.

Camilo's experience being the only boy in the house for a while was...interesting. Not the easiest.

Pepa and Dolores' gifts have caused some difficulties between the two.

Especially post-movie, Bruno, Agustín and Félix would be a ridiculous trio.

The candle is now gone, but a new miracle took its place.

Félix and Mirabel have a good relationship, especially post-movie.

Isabela's 5th birthday was the first gift ceremony for the grandchildren.

Bruno was probably superstitious before moving in the walls.

Before the house fell, Alma probably wouldn't like Dolores marrying Mariano. After, she'd accept it.

The other Madrigals might have hidden potential in their gifts, much like Isabela did.

The townspeople mostly either put the Madrigals on a high pedestal or see them as equals.

Isa probably had at least one flower she'd intentionally give Mirabel allergies with.

Bruno was probably a bit popular at one point.

Adopted Madrigal kids that were 6+ would probably still get a gift.

Mirabel's near-sighted.

Camilo's probably gotten in trouble for his disguises at times.

Bruno's mostly a rat guy because he's around them the most.

Pepa has a sweet tooth but doesn't let her self have too much due to her weather.

Isabela can grow trees and crops.

There's no definite reason why Isa was the favorite grandchild, but being the eldest didn't help.

When Alma said "the magic is strong, and so are the drinks", she was really trying to get everyone back to the party.

The gifts can tire out the Madrigals if used a lot, sometimes physical pain can occur.

Alma might have siblings, but it's not confirmed.

Behind the scenes:

There used to be a scene of Mirabel getting grounded. Idk if it's the same scene as the previous one mentioned, but the context of the question might suggest otherwise. ("What would've happened to Mirabel if she was found after the dinner?")

There were versions in the end credits of everyone reuniting with Bruno.

There is potential for a Madrigal with OCD, autism, etc, but not yet confirmed.

Triplet's Birthday Q&A (8/17/23)

Cannon universe:

Bruno and the grandkids now watch telenovelas together.

Julieta's favorite food is probably ajiaco.

Mirabel's first word would potentially be "sita" because she loved Casita but couldn't say the full word.

Dolores' room has a lot of soundproofing.

The reason Mirabel seems to interact with Castia the most out of the Madrigals is because she was mostly an outsider, with only Casita to talk to.

Encanto is a hidden place, so simply finding it is near impossible.

There are respected town elders in Encanto, but Alma is considered the founder.

Pedro said something to Alma before he died, potentially in Spanish, but it's not confirmed what.

In terms of personality, Mirabel is the closest to Pedro.

For adoptive kids, Casita may be able to anticipate the arrival of someone new even before the family is consciously aware of it, giving them a new door.

Bruno's a fan of chocolate.

Mirabel loves every color. She has no known favorite.

Julieta got married first between her and Pepa.

Bruno's rats aren't sentient like humans, so Bruno would have to train them to do whatever.

It's possible another Madrigal felt resentment towards Bruno after he left.

Julieta's gift possibly only works with a combo of cooking and giving, but not confirmed.

Bruno learned how to use his gift through practice and invented customs. It was complicated.

Julieta probably needs to know the person's injury before healing it.

The majority of the Madrigals' dominate hands are right. Julieta and Antonio are left handed. Luisa is ambidextrous. It's unsure, but Mirabel is potentially left handed.

Mirabel's favorite food is arepa con queso.

Antonio's favorite snack is nailed rice.

Agustín and Félix have jobs in the town, but not confirmed what.

In a book, it was mentioned that Bruno was the golden child of the family. He probably fell from that position in his late teens.

Agustín's favorite meal from Julieta is chocolate santafereño.

Gifts can possibly be repeated, but not in the same generation.

The refugees/townspeople had brought everything from home they used to start farming when the Encanto formed.

Isabela and Mariano still have a good relationship after the movie. Neither were too wild about the engagement.

The bedrooms can change if their owner wants them to.

The gift ceremonies will now be different without a candle.

Madrigals still do the traditional quinceañera.

The Encanto doesn't have electricity.

Bruno has left the walls a few times for a break.

Isabela will probably keep switching up her outfit now that she can.

Luisa has always felt protective of Mirabel.

Behind the scenes:

Casita used to have shown that it has only 1 bathroom, which was located in the back right corner under Bruno's tower.

There was a deleted scene where Julieta yelled at Alma in front of the entire town after Mirabel went missing.

Julieta is the one singing w/ Mirabel during the "constellations glow/the seasons change in turn" lyric.

There used to be a version of Bruno using water with his vision.

The line said by Mirabel, "Even in our darkest moments there's light where you least expect it" was cut after Lin Manuel Miranda wrote Dos Oruguitas and the emotional thrust of Mirabel’s words needed to evolve to encompass what she’d just learned.

There was a Waiting on a Miracle reprise that was cut because they felt they didn't need it.

The concept of a new door appearing was considered to start with the doorknob.

No one intervened during Alma and Mirabel's argument because the writers felt that it was Mirabel's moment to shine.

VERY early on, Bruno (then known as Oscar) was Mirabel's estranged cousin.

Indestructibility was a gift they wanted to use. It was actually Pepa's original gift.

Dolores' Birthday Q&A (8/31/22)

Cannon universe:

People in Isabela's position wouldn't really have the chance to have authentic relationships because they're hiding their true self. This could potentially apply to Isa herself.

Before Mirabel's ceremony, her family was excited for her. After, the family’s ability to see Mirabel clearly was too obscured by their unhealthy dynamics but were probably unaware of that until Mirabel brought it to light.

Bruno's oversized clothing was by personal preference, potentially because of his awkward nature.

Before Isabela showed up in Bruno's vision, another person was there, who is possibly a young Alma. While not confirmed, it is implied in Jared's answer.

Félix and Agustín already had gifts, just not in a way that others could see.

Isabela lets herself break the rules, so while not confirmed, it's possible she could recreate mythical plants.

The town probably functions like a combination of where everyone came from.

The triplets used to have little meetings in Bruno's room when they were little.

Behind the scenes:

There used to be a scene where Bruno revealed he had a secret elevator in his room.

Agustín's Birthday Q&A (6/19/22)

Cannon universe:

Part of what fuels the miracle is unconditional love. When Mirabel and Isa showed that during What Else can I Do?, it affected the magic.

Julieta often gives people the food they like rather than something random.

For a long time, Isabela was the favorite grandchild for Alma. Before her ceremony, Mirabel was. After Casita's rebuild, many dynamics changed.

Agustín was born in the Encanto, but his family was from a city, so he was raised with the city-vibe.

Luisa's favorite food is bandeja paisa.

Every gift can be affected by emotions in some way.

Casita probably helped Bruno hide, but not confirmed.

If Mirabel and Bruno decided to leave the Encanto after Casita fell, the entire family would've fallen apart.

The only people in the Encanto were the ones who traveled with Alma. They all got there at the same time, no one got in or out.

Behind the scenes:

There used to be an exit for Bruno's wall room behind the family tree, but it wasn't used.

Antonio's Birthday Q&A (5/21/22)

Cannon universe:

Mirabel's canonically 5'2.

Mirabel has good relationships with Pepa and Félix. Félix loves everyone and likes hanging out with pretty much anybody. Pepa is a good tia, she’s just very emotional, but for most of the movie (and her life before) felt she had to bottle her emotions which only made them worse.

Bruno probably doesn't need the sand for visions, but as time went on he added his own superstitions.

The color of the magic in the end changed. It wasn't the color of the candle anymore, but the colors of Mirabel. What that means? No one knows.

Bruno "felt" his vision cave collapsing and investigated. That's how he knew it was destroyed.

Camilo couldn't really hold a form forever because of how tiring it could be.

Mirabel did have a quinceañera.

Casita has a mind of its own with its own emotions. Sometimes it could play pranks on the Madrigals or be too upset to move anything.

Behind the scenes:

Earlier versions had a negative dynamic between Mirabel and Camilo.

The gifts are based off family archetypes. Antonio is a shy kid but opens up to animals.

Random Q&A (3/19/22)

Cannon universe:

The main reason for Mirabel and Isa's falling out was because they couldn’t see the difficulties the other was experiencing, because they were fixated on their own struggles. They were probably closer when they were younger.

Despite being shy, Antonio does have friends in the town.

Due to the triplets' bday being the same day as Pedro's death, it's a mixed day.

Pepa can try to stop natural disasters, but doesn't usually succeed.

Mirabel would sometimes have sleepovers with her sisters when they were younger. There was a deleted scene showing it.

The pink cloud scene in Surface Pressure represents the stuff Luisa wanted to do without the pressure.

Behind the scenes:

Tbh there wasn't any answers that could qualify as behind the scenes sooo... 🤷

Stuff that didn't come from Q&As but is still good info

Madrigal Birthdays (I'm not doing a link for each, just take my word for it lol):

Félix: November 11 (11/11)

Julieta, Pepa, Bruno: October 17 (10/17)

Agustín: June 19 (6/19)

Isabela: August 7 (8/7)

Dolores: August 31 (8/31)

Luisa: November 14 (11/14)

Camilo: December 28 (12/28)

Mirabel: March 6 (3/6)

Antonio: May 21 (5/21)

Madrigal ages:

Alma: 75

Julieta, Pepa, Bruno: 50

Isabela: 21

Dolores: 21

Luisa: 19

Camilo: 15

Mirabel: 15

Antonio: 5

I don't believe the husbands' ages are confirmed, but Félix is confirmed to be a little older than the triplets, while Agustín is a little younger than the triplets.

Julieta is the oldest of the triplets, Pepa in the middle, and Bruno is the baby.

[lover-of-mine]

I refuse to believe eddie is younger than buck though because as chim said "you're not his elder". buck was 26 in s1 and 29 in s4 and so to me, eddie has to be at least a year older? but you're right about them being around the same age and yet at such different stages. buck craves that family and I wish he could have it 💔 that baby duck could cling a little harder for once (to eddie, not a stranger..)

Well, considering season 6, Eddie can't be more than a few months older than Buck. I don't think they would actually make Buck older than him, but the thing is, we know Eddie has to be born in 1992 given the date on Shannon's grave and the way they didn't imply that Eddie is older than her, but Buck can be from 1991 or 1992 considering all the times they stated his age, 26 in s1, 28 right before the tsunami, 29 before he finds out about Daniel, 30 when he gets struck by lightning, and the very confusing way the time passes on the show. I guess you could push it a little, say Eddie is from late 91, since Shannon is from October 92, he could be anywhere from November 91 to September 93 and still be the "same age" as her in between birthdays but I refuse to believe they would put him as being born in 93, so our best guess is somewhere in 92, but our best guess with Buck is also somewhere in 92. So they can't be more than a few months apart from each other. But I also think everyone latched onto the way Eddie acts older (and the way Ryan is older) to put him as older than he is when his whole thing is that he was forced to grow up too fast, by the pressure to be the "man of the house" and the way that he had to learn be a father before he got to be a kid and the way that war changes someone in ways other experience won't. Buck has a boyish energy to him because he was left alone, because he was invisible. Maddie left for college then she left because of Doug, so the only person that could've pushed him to get his shit together wasn't around, so he lived life the way he did because he didn't have anyone else to care about besides himself and he never cared about himself very much to begin with. Because the way he settles into himself is not just Abby in the way he likes to say, it's Bobby, Hen, and Chim letting him care about them too. And the way he really settles once he gets Maddie back and meets Eddie and Chris shows the way he just didn't have a reason before them. But they do balance each other off in a beautiful way because Eddie needed to loosen up a little, and Buck not only shows him a different perspective, he also gives Eddie means to care about himself while making sure Chris is also always taken care of, and Eddie gives Buck a reason to not be a reckless idiot just because he wants to feel something.

[rubberbandballqueen]

About your tags: is there more that you can share about the OW fandom and fics? This was a phenomenon I wonder about too. It was one of the most popular fandoms around 2017-2018, but the way the fandom stopped on its tracks around 2019 was hard not to notice. Especially from people who didn't play the game but were aware of it's fandom.

oh! overwatch is one of about 50-ish fandoms i track for this one spreadsheet project i do as a hobby (which i Technically blog about @fandom-data-scientist, but i've been too lazy to do a proper writeup to explain what the hell it is i do), wherein i try to answer the age-old question: when did the weebs move to ao3?

(the answer is late 2015/early 2016. most likely this was in large part a result of undertale and sports anime, but that's currently just my own conjecture)

According To My Research(tm), the overwatch fandom peaked in late 2016/early 2017 when it comes to the number of new fics posted per month. after this, it declined quite rapidly, as it didn't even get to enjoy a plateau period.

(there's a reason why the plots are really wonky towards the end of this graph-- it's bc i found the past dates for number of fics archived to a particular site via the wayback machine. since those snapshots are typically bot crawls, the number of fics shown on the fandoms listings will not include fics that have been archive-locked. although i technically started this project in august 2022, i did not add overwatch to my tracking list until this june/july or so. my current guess for the small uptick in the rate of ow fics published to ao3 in october 2022 is that the sequel came out? and then the rate plunged for january 2023 bc of the ai scraping scare that happened at around that time-- nearly every single fandom i track had a significant drop right then bc everyone was archive-locking their fics. the rate shooting up in like july 2023 on this chart is bc like i said, that's when i added ow to my list of tracked fandoms; because i'm logged into my own ao3 acct when checking these numbers live, i get access to the archive-locked fics and so the display number goes up.)

in my experience, fandoms will generally kind of plateau in their fic production after their peak, which will ofc normally gradually taper off. games that receive regular lore or story updates probably have fairly long or stable plateaus, although i haven't made scatterplots or made any comparing analyses to prove this rigorously. this plateau period generally represents a time of fandom stability as the fair-weather, casual, or migratory slash fans run off to the next big thing.

if we ignore the fact the plague and quarantine happened, we can see a nice, steady, and very consistent plateau period for the danganronpa fandom from about 2018-2020!

let's look at an older fandom, like my archnemesis final fantasy:

granted, the ao3 numbers are kind of all over the place these days, but you kind of get my point by now, right? that healthy fandoms tend to plateau as the wind carries away the faintly-interested and leaves the long-haulers behind to form their communities.

overwatch struck me as unusual when i was on one of my long wayback machine trips because of the way there was a net increase of only two fics published from 1 july 2021 to 1 october 2021, when before then it had usually been in the hundreds or so. i then went on a work tangent n googled around n more or less concluded it had Something to do with some kind of scandal with the development company, but otherwise i don't really have any more comments on it hahaha.

[oftheblue]

It's the way that in every mv him with the scar got killed by him without it but not this time... This time his past self was running to try and save his future self

[ellemj]

Bigger Than He Was

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @littlemiss-yeehaw: jealous!Bucky, fake dating, handjob.

Summary: Bucky pretends to be your new man when you run into your ex in public. However, the little act of pretending sparks something inside of him that he didn't know was there.

Warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight size kink, jealous!Bucky, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: The first request I wrote from the smut menu had to be from my Tumblr best friend. Not only does she pre-read nearly everything that I post, but she keeps me from deleting my blog on a near daily basis, and she keeps me sane. I hope you all enjoy it as much as she did. If it wasn't for this girl, my blog would've been deleted before Needs & Wants was ever completed lmao.

            You’ve decided that no one in the world looks more out of place than a super soldier in a grocery store. Specifically, a super soldier in the produce aisle of a small local market. He looks like a bull in a China shop as he scours through a bin of tomatoes to find ones he approves of. He holds one tomato in each of his leather gloved hands as he compares them carefully, acting like choosing between the two is every bit as difficult as deciding whether someone lives or dies in his usual line of work.

            “They’re pretty much the same, Bucky, and we only need two. Just put them in a bag.”  You say with a sigh, resting your elbows on the handle of the shopping cart that you’ve been pushing as you’ve trailed behind him. Though you’re the one carrying the team’s grocery list, Bucky’s been the one pulling things off of the shelves and setting them in the cart. You originally suggested each of you taking half of the list and splitting up to get the shopping done faster, and to avoid the pointless arguments and annoyances you’d face in each other’s presence, but Bucky’s only response to your idea was a furrowed brow and silence. So, you’ve been following him around with the shopping cart safely between the two of you.

            Bucky starts to put both of the tomatoes down and pick two different ones just to bother you, but he takes the high road and bags the two he’s already holding instead. He’s usually assigned to grocery shopping with Sam, which he definitely prefers, but with Sam off to visit his family this week, he ended up being stuck with you.

            “What’s next?” Bucky asks, setting the plastic bag of produce in the cart and then casting you a sideways glance. You cross tomatoes off of the small piece of paper in your hand before moving on to read the next item.

            “We’re done with food items, next is ibuprofen, melatonin, and some feminine products.” You answer, lifting your gaze to meet his as you tap the pen against the piece of paper absentmindedly. Bucky nods curtly and starts leading the way down the aisle, knowing all of the aisles with medication, first aid, and toiletry type supplies are on the opposite end of the store. You follow a few feet behind him, missing your usual shopping buddy, Wanda. Though it’s a menial task, you always seem to have a fun time when the two of you are on the grocery schedule for the week. Bucky is a stark contrast to your far more bubbly, lighthearted friend.

            You’re lost in thought as you turn a corner and enter the pharmacy aisle, not paying any attention as Bucky looks through various types of over-the-counter medications. It isn’t until you hear a voice one aisle over that you straighten up and tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The voice sounds familiar, so familiar that you find your ears straining to hear it better so you can identify it. Is it an old friend? Someone from SHIELD? You can’t be sure, but you’re starting to think it isn’t a friend by the way your nerves seem to be rising with every incoherent word that they mutter. You leave Bucky standing at one end of the aisle as you walk ahead, trying to get closer to the source of the voice. You’re nearly at the opposite end of the aisle when suddenly, the front end of another shopping cart appears and quickly turns in front of you, almost colliding with the front end of yours. You stop abruptly for two reasons. The first reason being so you don’t cause a pileup on aisle thirteen. The second reason being because you now see whose voice was causing your heart rate to elevate and your stomach to twist into a knot. Your fucking ex-boyfriend.

            “Oh, wow, hey!” The man before you extends the greeting so casually, as if he didn’t waste a year of your life with meaningless words and empty promises. He raises a hand to rub the back of his neck, his eyes darting over his shoulder just as a pretty blonde woman steps into view. Oh. “This is uh, this is my girlfriend.” He gestures to the woman before looking back at you with a wary glance, clearly trying to gauge how you feel about him committing to someone new so soon. The woman offers a small smile and wave as she introduces herself by name, but it all goes right over your head. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, unable to tear your eyes away from the piece of shit behind the cart full of organic produce and a questionable amount of wine.

            Bucky’s watching everything unfold from a few yards behind, acting as if he’s still deciding between a name brand bottle of ibuprofen and a generic version of the same. He gives you a few seconds to soak in the obviously awkward social situation as his eyes analyze your body language. You’re tense, your grip on the handle of the shopping cart is so tight that your knuckles are turning white. It’s been ten seconds since the woman introduced herself to you and you still haven’t uttered a word. Bucky glances to his right and notices the selection of condoms, lube, and pregnancy tests spread over the shelves next to the medication section. He only takes a second to weigh his options: let you continue to flounder in front of your shitty ex and his new victim or offer you an easy reprieve while simultaneously sending your ex into a mental spiral. His gloved hand wraps around a couple of boxes of pregnancy tests and he pulls them off of the shelf, signifying he’s chosen the latter.

            “Oh, trying for a baby?” Your ex jokes when Bucky approaches from behind you and drops a handful of pregnancy tests into the cart.

            “No, it’s just smart to have a few of these on hand when we only ever fuck raw. Do we know you?” Bucky’s tone is calm and even, like he’s just said something completely within the ordinary. It breaks you out of the trance you were in and you blink your eyes as you feel the heat from Bucky’s body enveloping you in warmth. He cages your body between his and the cart, his chest brushing against your back as he places his hands on either side of yours on the shopping cart handle. You don’t see the way his lips curve upward into a shit-eating grin as your ex’s face falls at both Bucky’s unfiltered words and the public display of affection he’s witnessing.

            “Aren’t you…” The man addresses Bucky with slightly widened eyes and an unsure voice. You almost laugh at the effect Bucky has on the poor guy’s demeanor, and the fact that Bucky towers a few inches over the man is just icing on the cake.

            “Bucky.” Your ex has just realized that not only are you grocery shopping with the Winter Soldier, but you’ve also been letting him fuck you.

---

            Your week has been full of unexpected moments, but two stand out in particular. The first moment was when Bucky so calmly chose to play the role of your fake boyfriend at the grocery store three nights ago. Nearly every waking moment since then has been spent replaying it in your head, wondering why he decided to step in and do that for you, why he decided to take such a blunt approach and tell your ex that the two of you prefer unprotected sex, and how the hell he acted as if nothing happened immediately after the interaction was over. The second moment is unfolding right now. Your eyes are locked in on your phone screen as you mull over the text that’s displayed there.

            Are you free tonight? Would love to sit down and catch up, want to talk about things.

            You don’t have the number saved in your phone but you know exactly who it is. It’s the same shitty ex you ran into two nights ago, the same one who now thinks you’re fucking the Winter Soldier. Before you’ve even considered responding, a second message from the same unsaved number rolls in.

            I’ll be at the bar we used to go to, the one off of 83rd street, in an hour. Hope to see you there.

            The way your face scrunches up in confusion at the sight of the two texts on your phone screen piques Bucky’s interest as he steps off of the elevator and uses the collar of his t-shirt to dab sweat off of his neck. He’s just finished a pretty strenuous workout and had every intention of heading straight to his room to shower and spend the rest of the night in there, but he can’t ignore the feeling of some kind of invisible string tugging him in your direction. It was only two nights ago that he pressed himself against you in the grocery store and pretended like he knew what it’s like to have you in his bed.  It was only two nights ago that you became a near constant thought in the back of his mind.

            “Don’t tell me he texted you.” Bucky’s voice catches you off guard. You lift your gaze from your phone screen and lean back into the couch cushions, attempting to look perfectly at ease in his presence. Truth be told, you’ve been a little on edge around him since the night in the grocery store, but you don’t know why. Maybe because he saw you in such an embarrassing and vulnerable moment, in your own personal hell.

            “He didn’t text me.” You lie, watching him carefully as the elevator doors close behind him and he takes the few steps across the room to reach the sectional you’re currently lounging on. It’s odd to see him sink into the opposite end of the piece of furniture so comfortably, like he’s such a normal guy. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him sit in the living room of his own free will, and it’s a sight to see.

            “You’re a bad liar.” Bucky huffs. His expression turns thoughtful as he thinks back to his encounter with your ex that night. The corners of Bucky’s lips curl up into a smile when he remembers the way the guy practically shrank when he heard that the two of you like to fuck raw. “What does he want?” Bucky seems to have a sixth sense about this shit, so you decide to go with it and tell him the truth, see where it gets you.

            “He said he wants to catch up and talk about things.”

            “Right after seeing you with another guy.” Bucky points out, hoping you’ll see where this is going. You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms over your chest.

            “I guess so, or maybe it’s unrelated. People break up and then discuss it later for closure sometimes, it’s a thing, Bucky.”

            “So, you’re going?”

            “I haven’t decided yet.” You answer honestly. You watch as Bucky nods slowly, as if he’s digesting the information and deciding what to do with it. He uses the collar of his t-shirt to wipe a bit of sweat away from his neck again, drawing your gaze down to the flexing of his bicep. You’re quick to avert your gaze back up to his eyes, but the satisfied smirk on his face tells you that he caught you looking.

            “We’re going.” Bucky decides, sitting up a little straighter on the couch and running a hand through his sweaty hair. The bewildered look that takes over your face says it all.

            “What the hell do you mean we’re going? There’s no we here, it’s just me.”

            “I meant exactly what I said, we’re going.”

---

            You stand in the garage of the compound, where everyone’s various vehicles are stored away safely. Your fingers pick at the frays of your black jeans absentmindedly as you lean against a concrete pillar, waiting for Bucky. You know you should just get in your own car and leave without him, there’s absolutely no good that will come out of letting him tag along for this. Yet, something in the back of your mind is tugging at you to stay and wait for him, to see what might come of this. Looking up at your reflection in the car window a few feet away from you, you take in the sight of your little ensemble. You’re wearing dark jeans paired with a tight little long-sleeved crop top that shows the tiniest bit of your midriff. You wanted to wear something fairly plain yet something that showed a little skin, so this is what you settled on.

            Unbeknownst to you, Bucky’s outfit for tonight will go well with your own. He’s wearing dark jeans as well, but with a dark t-shirt and black leather jacket. As the elevator carries him down to the lowest floor of the compound, he has a brief second of clarity where he asks himself what the fuck he thinks he’s doing. First, he went against every rational thought in his mind when he pretended to be your boyfriend in a damn grocery store. Then, he spent two nights thinking about what it might’ve been like if he actually had been fucking you raw like he’d told to your ex he was. Those two nights ruined him. You ruined him. It took less than 48 hours for his mind to become completely preoccupied with you.

            When the elevator slows to a stop and the doors slide open to let him into the private parking garage beneath the compound, his eyes fall on you instantly. Fuck. One look at you and he’s immediately decided that you’re not taking a car, no, you’re taking his bike. Hell, you’re dressed near-perfectly for it. The only issue is that bit of smooth skin you have showing beneath the hem of your little top, he’s not going to take you out on his bike and risk ruining that perfect skin of yours with road rash.

            The ding of the elevator draws your attention to your right, where Bucky is stepping into the parking garage looking totally different than when you saw him upstairs half an hour ago. His messy hair has been washed and dried, his flesh and metal biceps are hidden within the sleeves of his leather jacket, and his neck is no longer glistening with a sheen of sweat. You’re unashamedly focusing on the way his jeans are accentuating the muscles of his thighs when he starts stripping off his leather jacket.

            “Put this on.” He says as he holds the jacket out to you with one hand, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans with the other to fish out the key for his bike. Your eyes widen as you stare at the jacket in his outstretched hand. Shaking your head, you take a step back from him.

            “Why?”

            “Because you’re not riding on the back of my bike with skin showing, it’s not safe.”

            “The back of your bike? Bucky, we’re taking a car.” You say defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest. Bucky can’t ignore the way your breasts are slightly pushed up by the action, a hint of cleavage peeking out over the lowcut neckline of your top. He quickly averts his gaze back to his motorcycle that stands a few feet in front of you both, a sigh leaving his lips at your stubbornness.

            “Just put on the damn jacket.” He says, looking over at you one more time, but this time with a softened expression. You don’t know why you comply and take the jacket from him, but you do. It’s warmed from his body heat when you slip your arms into it and the way it engulfs you and pulls down on your shoulders with a bit of weight is almost comforting.

            The motorcycle ride to the bar, however, is anything but comforting. The only other time you’ve ever been so close to Bucky was that night at the grocery store when he cozied up behind you for show. But this felt different. This involved your chest pressed against his back, your inner thighs brushing against his hips, and your arms wrapped around his torso. This felt intimate. It felt the same way to Bucky and he couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard he tried. When he stopped at a redlight in the city, you let your hold around his abdomen relax for a moment. Your hands slid down to rest on the tops of his thighs as you remained pressed against his back, and he was praying for the light to turn green again before one of your hands had a chance to shift and find out how hard he was beneath the fabric of his jeans. He can only blame himself for the torture, since he was the one that insisted you take the bike.

            When you turn onto the right street, you’re quick to tap Bucky’s thigh with your hand, completely missing the way he tenses up beneath your unexpected touch. You use that same hand to point to a small parking garage across the street from the bar that you’ll be heading into, and Bucky gets the signal. It’s only two minutes later that he’s parking his bike on the third floor of the garage and trying to keep his eyes off of you as you stand beside the bike, removing your helmet carefully. Some part of him can’t help but think that you’re being so careful because you want to look your best when you waltz into the bar to meet your ex, and he fucking hates it. He has the sudden urge to mess your hair up and send you in there looking like shit. But that urge only makes him think about all of the ways he could mess your hair up. He could grab you by it and pull you against him, he could run his hands through it and rake it into a ponytail while you’re on your knees for him…shit. He just volunteered to drive you to the bar to meet your ex. He can’t do a damn thing.

            You hand Bucky your helmet and immediately start smoothing down your hair, seeing the look of disdain he gives you but choosing to ignore it. He had no obligation to be here with you tonight, but he insisted, so he has to put up with it.

            “You don’t have to go in with me, I can do this on my own.” You say, hoping Bucky will choose to wait for you in the parking garage rather than go inside the bar with you.

            “What are you planning to do?” Bucky asks, swinging his leg over as he dismounts the bike and joins you on the concrete floor. He stands in front of you, slipping his gloves off and resting them on the seat of the bike before reaching under the chin of his helmet to undo the strap there. Your eyes drift to the veins on his flesh hand and golden accents on his vibranium hand as you formulate a believable response.

            “Hear him out, give him closure or whatever he’s here for.”

            “Whatever he’s here for?” Bucky repeats your words almost sarcastically, scoffing beneath his helmet. When he pulls it off and rests it on the seat next to his gloves, you can see he’s scowling. “Why are you playing dumb? He’s here for you.”

            “No, he isn’t. He’s with someone else now, and he thinks I am too.” You point out. A low chuckle rumbles past Bucky’s lips as he runs a hand through his hair and starts toward the concrete staircase on the other end of the floor.

            “That’s exactly why he’s doing this, because he thinks you’re with someone else and he can’t stand it.” Bucky sounds so sure of himself, as if he’s experienced something like this before. In fact, he sounds so sure that it makes you wonder if he really has experienced this before.

            “You think he’s jealous? You saw the girl he was with, didn’t you?” You question, falling into step next to Bucky. His leather jacket still sits heavy on your shoulders but giving it back to him hasn’t even crossed your mind yet. Bucky’s hoping you’ll forget about it and keep it on when you walk in and sit down across from that piece of shit ex you’re here for.

            “She doesn’t have shit on you and he knows it.” His words leave your lips parted and your eyes widening in surprise as he reaches the staircase and starts heading down in front of you. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. For the most part, you’ve only ever heard him talk about you with an air of annoyance or indifference, but you could swear that what he just said was almost complimentary. If you could see the grimace on Bucky’s face, you’d know you were right. When he saw the blonde in the grocery store, he wanted to laugh at the way the guy had downgraded after losing you. She was pretty, sure, but you glow like the fucking sun even on your worst day.

            “So, what should I be doing here tonight then?” You ask, knowing Bucky probably has a plan in mind if he came all this way just to witness what’s about to go down.

            “Showing him that you don’t need him, that you’re better off without him.” You reach the bottom of the stairs and step out onto the sidewalk across from the bar. Bucky turns to face you as you scan the area for a crosswalk.

            “And how do I do that?”

            “For starters…” Bucky says, stepping closer to you and grabbing the front of his leather jacket that you’re still sporting, “keep this on.”

---

            Bucky’s been standing at the bar for the last fifteen minutes, nursing both a beer and an aching jaw. The ache is from how hard he’s been clenching his teeth together since your ex strolled in and took the seat across from you at a little two-seater table across the room. Of course, the guy showed up without his new girl. And, of course, he’s been trying like hell to get you to smile and laugh at whatever half-assed jokes he’s been cracking since he sat down. Bucky knew the guy wasn’t after closure.

            He watches with a less-than-pleased look on his face as the guy leans his elbows on the table and rests his hands a little too close to yours, but you don’t pull away. You’re sitting facing Bucky’s direction, yet you haven’t once let your eyes flit up to meet his. It’s infuriating. Bucky strains his ears to pick out your conversation through the din of the usual bar chatter around him. He listens intently as the guy tells you that it was nice to run into you at the grocery store, that he didn’t know if he’d ever see you again, that he missed the way you laughed. What a fucking ass. If Bucky remembers correctly, from overhearing gossip among the team, the guy had you nearly head over heels for him, and then one day he pulled the rug out from under you in and instant. He never even gave you much of a reason why. He simply called you up, ended the relationship over the phone, and a week later you heard through the grapevine that he’d met someone else. Why you felt compelled to meet the guy here tonight, Bucky will never understand. He doesn’t think the prick deserves even a minute of your time.

            “So, you’re really seeing someone else now?” The man’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard to Bucky’s sensitive ears, but he continues to focus on your conversation anyway. Bucky has to know how you’ll respond. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you push a stray lock of hair back over your shoulder, over the shoulder of his leather jacket, and then you blush. Why are you blushing? Bucky’s heart starts to race in the slightest because he can’t figure out if you’re blushing at the idea of you and him being together or at your ex prying into your personal life.

            “Yeah, he uh…at the grocery store, he…” You stutter through your answer. Like Bucky previously said, you’re a bad liar. The pink showing through the skin of your cheeks darkens another shade as you look away from your ex. Your eyes finally land on Bucky, who’s now standing at the bar facing you head-on. He holds your gaze assuredly and gives you a small nod, letting you know that you’re saying the right things. Somehow, just making eye contact with him and getting that small nod of approval calms your nerves.

            “Right, I remember. I guess I kind of thought that was a joke.”

            “A joke?” You ask, a bit offended at your ex’s confession. He rubs his hand across the back of his neck and lets out an awkward laugh before leaning back in his chair comfortably and taking a sip of his drink.

            “Yeah, I mean the guy said you only ever fuck raw. You never once asked me to fuck you raw. It just didn’t sound believable.” Huh. You’re silent for a moment as you sip on your own drink and let your gaze float back to Bucky once more, unaware that he’s just heard every word that the man said. The two of you stare at each other with some kind of…tension in the air between your table and the bar. Honestly, if you and Bucky were actually together in some alternate universe where you didn’t find each other incredibly annoying from the start, you think you would love to let him fuck you without protection. Something about it just sounds so filthy and enticing. But when you imagine it with the man that’s currently sitting in front of you, the man who promised you a lifetime and then kicked you to the curb like a broken piece of furniture, you cringe. No, you never asked him to take off the condom, and you probably never would have. Truthfully, that should’ve been a sign.

            Bucky’s eyes analyze the two of you as you put on a tight-lipped smile and then relax in your seat, fiddling with the zipper of the leather jacket draped around your frame.

            “It didn’t sound believable?” You ask softly, looking up through your lashes in a way that makes Bucky’s cock twitch, and he’s not even the one you’re looking at. When you do flit your eyes over to him, he can sense the change in your demeanor instantly. You’re not coming off so lighthearted and timid now, you’re giving off an air that says you-don’t-know-who-the-fuck-I-am anymore. “When I look at you, I can’t even fathom the two of us having unprotected sex. It never once crossed my mind to ask you for that. But when I look at him?” You let your gaze travel over to Bucky once more, and this time your ex catches on. He turns in his chair, scanning the bar behind him until he sees the super soldier leaning against the bar with a smug smile on full display. “When I look at him, I can’t stop imagining it.”

---

            Bucky’s leather jacket weighing on your shoulders, his body warmth seeping through his t-shirt and offering you reprieve from the wind that’s hitting you both head-on, his right hand reaching back to grip the side of your thigh as he weaves his bike skillfully in and out of traffic on the way back to the compound. All of those things are mixing and swirling together to create a near suffocating tension. You’re focusing on keeping your helmet from bumping into the back of his and even more than that, on keeping your mind out of the damn gutter. What you’d said back at the bar, the final thing you’d said before your ex realized he had no chance at getting back together with you, it was true. When you look at Bucky, you can’t stop imagining him fucking you without anything between your body and his. You don’t know when that started or when it might end, but it’s true. So, you left with him, climbing onto the back of his bike much more willingly than you had earlier in the evening. Not because you wanted to be close to him, but because you wanted to get home as fast as possible so you could get the hell away from him. Where on earth did this new found attraction come from? Why was your mind betraying your body with every single glance in his direction? Fuck physiology.

            Bucky can almost hear you overthinking behind him as he turns off of the interstate and onto a quiet, private road leading up to the compound. Hell, he’s overthinking too. He heard what you said at the bar, and he saw the look in your eyes when you said it. Had you been thinking about him the same way he’d been thinking about you since that night at the grocery store. No, there’s no way. If you really had been, then you wouldn’t have wanted to meet up with your ex tonight. Bucky lets out a breath and slows the bike as he nears the entrance to the parking garage. Neither of you said a word when your ex stormed out of the bar, nor did either of you when you made the walk across the street to the public parking garage and started the ride back home. It’s been silent, unbearably silent for too long.

            When Bucky finally parks the bike among the various vehicles owned by your friends and colleagues that reside upstairs, it seems as though you can’t get away from him fast enough. You swing your leg over and dismount the bike quickly before slipping your helmet off and taking a few steps over to the wall to set it on the shelf it originally came from. You’re halfway to the elevator when Bucky speaks, stopping you in your tracks.

            “The jacket, sweetheart.” He says coolly. When you turn around, you see him still sitting on the bike, looking down at the helmet he holds in his hands. It almost bothers you that he isn’t looking back at you. He can call you sweetheart but he can’t lift his eyes to your face? You let out a deep sigh before walking back over to him and standing a foot away from him and the bike. You strip off the leather jacket a bit reluctantly before holding it out to him. You have to admit you feel a bit like you’re missing something without it on now. Bucky takes it without glancing in your direction, and as soon as you turn on your heel to walk away, you can hear him dismounting the bike and setting his own helmet on the shelf. You’ve just hit the button to call the elevator down to the garage when he decides to speak once again. “You’re a bad liar.”

            “What?”

            “You’re a bad liar. I don’t know much about you, but I know that.” Bucky says. You stand in front of the elevator but you can’t tear your gaze away from him when he’s speaking so ominously. You watch him carefully as he turns away from the shelf and faces you, but still doesn’t lift his gaze to meet yours. Instead, he smooths out his leather jacket before laying it over one arm and tucking the keys to his bike into the back pocket of his jeans.

            “What does that have to do with anything?” You question, crossing your arms over your chest. Your eyes dart back to the screen above the elevator. It’s still so many floors away from reaching you.

            “I knew you were lying when you told me he hadn’t texted you. I don’t even think your piece-of-shit ex believed you at first when he asked if you were really seeing someone new, you couldn’t even get a full sentence out. You’re a bad liar.” The words pour out of his mouth with ease, as if he pre-planned the entire speech. When you don’t say anything, he finally lifts his eyes to meet your narrowed stare. A shiver runs down your spine, but you blame it on the fact that you’re no longer wearing his jacket. “When I look at him, I can’t stop imagining it.” When Bucky repeats your words so perfectly, you can feel all of the color draining from your face. “When you said that, you didn’t stutter, you didn’t hesitate. You weren’t lying.”

            “You think I was being honest?” The question leaves your lips with a hint of anger edging each word. Bucky merely shrugs in response, tilting his head to the side as he waits for you to answer your own question, since it’s obvious that he thinks you were being honest. “You think I look at you and imagine you fucking me raw?”

            “Do you?” Bucky taunts, licking his bottom lip before drawing it between his lips and pressing his top teeth into it. Your gaze darts down to his lips against your better judgement, and when your eyes settle back on his, all you see is a reflection of what you’re sure your own eyes are showing. Lust. He thinks about it. He thinks about fucking you raw. In this moment, you’re sure. In fact, he’s thinking about it right now.

            Your feet start moving before you even have a moment to consider the action, they’re carrying you straight toward him, ignoring the elevator that’s just arrived to take you away from him. When you stop a few inches in front of him, he’s staring down at you with a raised brow and building anticipation. He wants your answer.

            “Yes.” You breathe the word out. In an instant, Bucky’s dropping his jacket to the floor and tangling his flesh hand in the hair at the nape of your neck as his pulls you into him, crashing his lips against yours. It’s a kiss that takes your breath away and fills your lungs with a fiery burn, yet you don’t want to break for air. You kiss him back, moving your lips to suck along his bottom one as you tilt your head to the right to give each of you better access. Bucky languidly drags the tip of his tongue along your top lip before snaking it lower and letting it delve into your mouth. God, he might’ve imagined fucking you but truthfully, he forgot to imagine kissing you. He never would’ve thought it could be this good. His vibranium arm wraps around your lower back, pulling you closer into him until his body warmth begins sending tingles across the surface of your skin. Once he has you flush against him, that same cool metal hand begins unwrapping from your back and traveling down until it’s in place to grip a handful of your ass, hard. When you gasp into the kiss, Bucky pulls back and bites down on your bottom lip. Fuck. If you don’t stop him now, he won’t be able to stop himself from having you right here in the garage. As if you’re reading his mind, you place both hands on his chest and pull your head back until there’s an inch of space between your mouths. While your eyes are focused on his pink nose and swollen lips, your mind is focused on what you feel pressing against your thigh. He’s fully erect, his cock straining against the front of his jeans just from kissing you. You could overthink this, let your mind weigh all of the pros and cons of what’s happening right now, and then convince yourself to be responsible and go upstairs to your own room, pretending this never happened. But for some reason, your right hand is already coasting down his chest, over his abs, and sliding between your lower bodies. You find yourself palming the outline of his cock, offering him such a perfect amount of pressure and friction that he can’t help but lean his hips forward and press his cock further into your touch.

            “If you don’t stop now…” Bucky rasps, but his eyes flutter closed and he bites down on his lower lip before he’s even finished the sentence, your sensual touch getting the better of him.

            “If I don’t stop now?” You encourage him to say what he wants to say, but you can’t fight the teasing smile that’s beginning to play on your lips.

            “If you don’t stop now, you won’t be able to return all of those pregnancy tests on your next grocery run.” You laugh lightly as you lean in and press a soft kiss against Bucky’s jawline, continuing to rub his erection through the taut fabric of his jeans.             “Are you thinking about fucking me raw, James?” You tease. Bucky groans before opening his eyes and pulling you away from his jaw by your hair. He doesn’t stop you from slowly sliding your hand back and forth along the outline of his cock, but he makes sure you’re looking right in his eyes before he speaks again.

            “Right here in this damn parking garage.”

            Without a single thought in either of your minds, Bucky lets you push your palms flat against his chest and walk him back until he stumbles onto the seat of his motorcycle. In one swift movement, you slip your hand past the waistband of his jeans and boxers and the warm skin of your hand comes into contact with his hard length, without anything between the two of you. Bucky lets out a heady groan and his hands begin moving all on their own, working to unbutton and unzip his jeans to give your hand as much space as possible. As soon as he has his pants undone, you shift your hand and wrap it firmly around his cock, giving it a slow stroke inside of his boxers. When you near the head of it, a bead of precum drips onto the side of your thumb and you smile to yourself as you spread it back over the smooth tip of his cock. What is it about having a man this way that makes a woman feel so damn powerful? Bucky looks at you with a mix of annoyance and awe at the way you’re working his cock so effortlessly yet turning him into putty in your hands. He’ll let you have your fun for now, and then he’ll show you that he can have the same effect on you.

            The moment your eyes lock onto his, he slides his right hand along the side of your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss, the taste of your lips and the feel of your hand stroking back and forth along his hard-on is nearly enough to send him over the edge, and he inhales sharply, tugging his lips away from your own.

            “I’m not going to have much use for those pregnancy tests if we keep going like this, am I?” You ask jokingly, as you remove your hand from Bucky’s pants and raise it up to your face. Bucky runs a hand through his hair as he blows out a breath and watches you intently. Your thumb, still a bit shiny and wet from his precum, ventures dangerously close to your mouth. You keep your eyes trained on Bucky’s as you use that same thumb to tug down your bottom lip before sliding it into your mouth and sucking.

            “Oh, fuck.” Bucky groans, his rationality fleeing as his own flesh hand delves into his pants and begins mimicking your actions from a moment ago. The way your eyes follow his movements, your pupils blown wide with lust as you watch him touch himself, it’s too damn much for him. He grabs you by the hair once again, in that desperate, needy way that you’re quickly growing to love, and pulls you against his chest, kissing you as fervently as the first time. However, this kiss doesn’t last. He pulls away from you in an instant and suddenly, his hand is on your shoulder, pushing you down to your knees. Before you reach the floor, he uses the toe of his boot to slide his discarded leather jacket across the floor to cushion your knees. So fucking thoughtful.

            Bucky stands up with you on your knees in front of him and his bike resting on its kickstand behind him. His eyes never part from your face as he pushes his already undone pants and boxers down his thighs just enough to free his cock from their confines. Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as you lay eyes on it, as soon as you lay eyes on the sheer size of it. Bucky doesn’t make a move to stop you as you reach up with both hands and take hold of his length, using one hand to begin stroking it from the base to the tip while your other hand grips his thigh. Your eyes widen at the way it looks even bigger in your hand, which is a mental image that Bucky will probably be recalling every day for the rest of his life. You’re more than ready to lean in and take him in your mouth, to experience every second of what it’s like to suck him off, but his gentle touch halts your movements. His flesh hand softly cups the side of your face as he lets his thumb caress the skin over your cheekbone.

            “You’re so much bigger than he was.” You whisper, your eyes traveling up Bucky’s torso until you’re getting lost in his gaze. It’s true. Your ex was…well below average in this department. But Bucky? God, Bucky is so far above average it’s actually making you wonder if you can even fit half of him in your mouth. Bucky chuckles lowly before tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, and then copying your earlier move. He slips the pad of his thumb between your lips and watches with hooded eyes as you eagerly accept it, sucking on it gently. Fuck. He’s so ruined. Only a moment later, he’s standing there with his head thrown back and a string of curses are falling from his mouth as you bob your head back and forth, letting his cock slide along your tongue and brush against the back of your throat repeatedly. He’s fully lost in the pleasure of your mouth. He’s so lost, in fact, that when you grip his thighs with both hands and lean into him as far as you possibly can, letting your nose brush against his lower stomach and your throat tighten around his shaft as you gag, he lets out a groan that reverberates through the parking garage and sends a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.

            “Fuck, do that again.” He rasps, finally looking down at you as you pull your head back until only the tip is resting on your tongue. A smile plays behind your eyes as you dare to look up at him. He can’t help himself. Both of his hands move to run through your hair, encouraging you to do exactly what he just said. You repeat your actions, moving your head forward and taking his entire length in until you gag a second time. But this time, Bucky holds your head still there for two seconds. His eyes squeeze shut as your throat grips his cock tighter and tighter, the sensation bringing him so close to the edge that he abruptly pulls back and leaves only half of his length for you to taste. “Just like that, shit.” Another minute of your mouth doing exactly what Bucky wants and he’s fighting with every cell in his body to delay the inevitable. He wanted to fuck you raw, truly, it was his intention from the moment you admitted you thought about it. But having you like this? Having you on your knees for him, telling him that his dick is bigger than the last piece of shit you were with? God, he’s so close to cumming in your mouth that it almost hurts.

            “I’m so fucking close.” He groans the words out as if he’s in pain, as if he’s holding back because he doesn’t want to cum in your mouth. That just won’t do. So, you release him from your mouth with a pop and start working him with your hand as you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze.

            “You don’t want to cum in my mouth?” You ask innocently, looking up at him through your lashes. It’s the same way you looked in the bar earlier and he feels his last bit of resolve crumbling. He could easily cum in your mouth, but that’s just not what he needs right now. In that desperate, needy way that you love, Bucky grasps your hair and pulls you to your feet. A whimper leaves your lips as his cock slips out of your hand.

            “No.” Bucky says calmly, turning you around and pushing your back forward until your hands land on the seat of his bike. “I’m going to give you a reason to use one of those damn pregnancy tests.”

            He’s swift in pulling down your jeans and panties with both hands, and then lining his cock up with your entrance and making you think he’s going to fuck you. But no, Bucky lets the tip of his cock gather the wetness that you’ve been sitting in since you left the bar, and then he begins chasing his release with his own hand. You let out a needy whine, pushing your hips back against him and hoping his cock will just happen to notch inside of you and slide all the way in, but Bucky isn’t going to let it happen until he’s ready.

            He has a plan. He’s going to fill you with his cum first, then use his fingers, his tongue, and his cock to fuck it back into you after. The next time your run into your ex, Bucky wants you to be so fucking pregnant that the guy loses his goddamn mind.

There will be no tag list for the smut menu requests.

[leclerc-hs]

73 Questions with Mrs. Leclerc - cl16

pairing: husband!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you do a 73 questions interview with Vogue OR charles can't help but third wheel your interview warnings: none??? just cute fluff basically, NOT PROOFREAD word count: 2.1k author's note: I actually got a request by someone to do this and thought it was such a CUTE idea and concept. I obviously didn't do ALL 73 questions cause that would've taken forever. But thought this was a cute little piece to do. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think don't be shy !! xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE DELICATE FOLDS of the pale pink sundress fluttered like petals in a gentle breeze, framing your figure with a soft, ethereal elegance. As the front door yielded to the push, the fabric danced around your legs, caressing the tender skin of your thighs with a whisper of touch. Your radiant smile illuminated the scene, a beacon of joy amidst the fluttering fabric and nervous flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey!” The male voice chimed brightly, his tone cheerful as a songbird greeting the dawn, echoing through the air with an infectious energy that mirrored your own bright smile.

“Hey!” You respond with effervescent warmth, your smile stretching across your face like a sunbeam breaking through clouds. With a graceful gesture, you swing the door open wider, revealing the inviting warmth of your home’s foyer. The soft light spills in, casting a golden glow over the polished floors and elegant furnishing. The first thing to notice is the giant painting of a Ferrari Formula One car, hung high above the entry way table.  

“Look who we have here! It’s Mrs. Leclerc!” A delicate blush warms your cheeks, a subtle reminder of the tender affection that tingles within you whenever you’re addressed as such. Though you and Charles have been together for many years, your marriage has infused your relationship with a fresh sense of intimacy and closeness. And despite that it’s been almost five years, the title of “wife” feels forever new and unfamiliar.

“On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?”

“I would say 8, so I’m super excited!” With a gentle click, you shut the front door behind you, enveloping the foyer in a tranquility as you made your way down the hallway to the kitchen. Along the way, you stooped to pick up a scattering of children’s toys that lay scattered like confetti on the polished wooden floors, offering a quick apology for the perceived “mess.” However, you couldn’t help but inwardly smile at the orchestrated chaos around you. While the house was meticulously maintained by the cleaning company before the video shoot, every detail was carefully curated to strike the perfect balance between lived-in warmth and elegance, ensuring a setting that felt both inviting and authentic to you and the viewers.

“Any reason for that?”

In the heart of the home lies a kitchen adorned with a stunning green cabinet motif. The cabinets, painted in a rich emerald hue, exude an air of sophistication and charm, perfectly complemented by gleaming brass hardware. Sunlight filters through the vast array of windows, casting a warm glow over the polished marble countertops. 

“You mean other than the fact that the kids go back to school soon?” You and the interviewer let out a soft laugh as you made your way behind the kitchen island, opening the fridge in a smooth motion to pull out a water bottle. “Want one?”

“No, but thanks though!” His voice is light-hearted. 

As the fridge door remains open, a tantalizing glimpse is offered to the audience of its well-stocked interior. A colorful array of fresh produce fills the shelves, showing an abundance of vibrant fruits and crisp vegetables. Among the healthy offerings, assortment of juice boxes catches the eye, adding a playful touch to the wholesome scene.

“That’s a lot of juice boxes you have in there.” He makes a comment, it’s not a question, but you take it as one.

“Two kids and a husband,” You start, your tone light and casual before lowering your voice into a conspiratorial whisper for the camera, “who practically is also a kid, results in a lot of juice boxes.” With a playful wink directed at the lens, you punctuate the statement, adding a touch of humor to the scene. Setting the water bottle down on the expansive kitchen counter, you resume your easy demeanor, effortlessly blending candor and charm for your audience.

“Hey!” Your head shoots over, the camera seamlessly following your gaze to where Charles, your husband,sits on the floor of the living room, two of your kids, aged two and three, beside him with an abundance of toys strewn about. “I heard that!” Charles retorts with mock offense, a playful grin lighting up his face as he joins in the banter.

The living room exudes a chic sophistication with a distinct Formula One flair. Charcoal-gray walls provide a sleek backdrop, accentuating the mounted flat-screen television. A striking statement piece dominates one corner—a display of artwork showcasing all of the racetracks Charles has conquered – infusing the room with a sense of triumph and energy. A plush white sofa, adorned with an array of vibrant red pillows, invites relaxation and style. Across the room, a sizable shelf proudly showcases a collection of racing helmets, some belonging to Charles and others gathered over time, adding a personal touch to the space. Below the television, was a long console table that was adorned in various plants and photos of your family. You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced at them.

With a casual wave of your hand, you dismiss Charles’s playful interruption, maintaining your position at the kitchen island as the camera refocuses on you. The gesture carries an air of affectionate familiarity, a gentle reminder of the dynamic energy that permeates your bustling household.

“If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?”

“Definitely Austin Butler.” You answer almost immediately, no hesitance in your voice.

“Hey!” Charles’s playful yelp echoes through the room once more, accompanied by the joyful laughter of your children. One nestled in his lap, the other engrossed in a picture book, their presence adding warmth and vitality to the room. You share a knowing smile with Charles, the affectionate banter a familiar melody to your family life.

The laughter of the interviewer joins the playful exchange. The camera effortlessly captures the dynamic interaction between all of you with ease.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Restez en dehors de ça.” Stay out of this!

“Arrête de faire semblant de vouloir faire l’amour avec quelqu’un d’autre que moi!” Stop pretending you want to make love with anybody but me!

With a mischievous gleam in your eye, you turn back to the camera, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Can I change my answer?” You inquire, injecting a hint of playful anticipation into your tone.

“Sure,” the interviewer replies.

“You’re supposed to say no,” You quip with a chuckle.

“Oh, um no?”

With a playful pout, you glance over at Charles who is already staring at the interaction. A smile adorned on his face like he is in complete awe of you, regardless of what you are saying. “Sorry honey!” You wave your hand around. “Answers are final!”

Leaving the kitchen behind, you make your way towards the backyard, where the promise of relaxation and leisure awaits. Stepping through the door, you’re greeted by the sight of a large pool shimmering under the sunlight, its crystal-clear waters beckoning for a refreshing dip. Surrounding the pool, lounge chairs are strategically place, some on the pool’s ledge, inciting you to bask in the sun while enjoying the cool water. A wide arrangement of pool floaties from unicorns to racecars litter the pool as well.

It’s a breathtaking sight: a vast expanse of bright blue skies stretching overhead, adorned with barely a wisp of cloud in sight. The warm rays of sun dance upon your skin. With a stylish flourish, you slip on a pair of your favorite Ray-Bans, a subtle nod to your husband’s sunglass collection. 

“Vintage or new?”

You ponder for a moment as you stand in the backyard, a breeze blowing your hair behind your shoulders. “Depends, but definitely vintage.”

“Window or aisle seat?”

“Aisle, although Charles likes to take the aisle more.”

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

“Wait, do my children count as two of the three?”

“Up to you.”

“Okay, so my two children. And my lip gloss.” You laugh, pausing for effect. “Kidding! My two kids, and my lip gloss…” You pause, jokingly. “And my husband of course.” The light-hearted remark reflects the joyful chaos of humor and love in your life. “He’s really the sweetest man. I’m so lucky.”

The glass door slides open with a whisper, and into the frame steps Charles, his presence incessant. With a carefree demeanor, he approaches you clad in a pair of baggy jeans and a plain white t-shirt that stretched at the seams from his muscles. He presses soft kisses to your cheeks, the stubble of his own rubbing against your smooth skin, his love evident in each tender kiss.

“Désolé,” Sorry. He apologizes before pecking another kiss to your cheek. “Tellement ambrassable.” Just so kissable. He places one more on your cheek, your face bright red from the camera’s catching all of this.

“Looks like he can’t be far from you for very long.”

Charles looks at the camera, a glint in his eye with a large smile, like he was the happiest man on earth, and nothing could dampen his spirits. Especially with you nearby. “Est-ce que tu la vois?” Do you see her?

The interviewer, unaware of Charles’s words, simply nods in response behind the camera lens, acknowledging the affection in his tone. Later translations will reveal the depth of Charles’s words no doubt. Elle est tellement belle. Bien sûr, je ne peux pas rester loin longtemps.” She’s so beautiful. Of course, I can’t stay far long.

Your face is bright red as Charles remains at your side.

“Where are the kids?”

“Put them down for a nap!” Charles answers, his arm slung over your shoulder as he leans on you comfortably. 

As the interviewer continues the questionnaire, Charles can’t resist interjecting with playful remarks and comments on almost every question. His spontaneous interruptions add an element of humor and spontaneity to the video, turning what could have been a standard interview into an entertaining and engaging exchange.

“How do you define beauty?” “My wife.” “Charles, the questions are for me!”

"What do you love most about your body?" "That's an easy one...I think her--" Charles begins, but you swat his chest and cut him off. "I love my arms. Not because they're that nice but they give me the ability to hold my children." Charles clicks his tongue, hating that you even implied something about yourself as 'not that nice'.

"Least favorite color?" "Red." Charles lets out a large gasp with a string of phrases in French, clearly hurt by your response. "It's a joke, mon amour!" "How did you know you were in love?" You look at Charles then, his eyes already on you, a soft smile pulling on both of your lips. "I can't remember a time when I wasn't in love with him. Probably when I realized I would rather be awake in the middle of the night, since he was traveling so much, just to talk to him for even a few minutes, instead of going to sleep." Charles plays with the ends of your hair, twirling the ends around his fingers as he chimes in. "We've known each other for so long. But, when I first met her, it was like meeting someone I've known my entire life. There was no awkward silences between us. We just clicked."

“Diamonds or pearls?” “Pearls.” “Mon chou, don’t lie.” “I’m not!” “The diamond on your finger says otherwise!”

“If you made a documentary, what would it be about?” “Charles’ brain. I seriously question what goes on in there sometimes.” “Hey! It’s only you…”  You raise your eyebrows at him, like he’s a liar. “And racing.” “Definitely racing.”

“If you had a tattoo, where would it be?”

Charles smirks deeply, like he knows something the world doesn’t, the interviewer picks up on it. “Wait, you have a tattoo? Can we see it?”

“No! It’s for me only.”

You playfully swat at Charles’ chest, a playful blush coloring your cheeks as you both wander throughout the house, showcasing its beautiful décor. Despite your embarrassment at Charles’ antics, you can’t help but be thankful for him easing your nerves. You weren’t one for the public eye, normally. So, when you agreed to this interview it came out as quite a surprise.

“Okay final question of the day.” 

You both stand by the front door, the interviewer on the front step outside of the home. 

“Hugs or kisses?”

“Definitely ki—” You don’t get to finish your answer as Charles’ fingers grasp onto your neck, his fingers sprawled along your jawline as well, and tugs your face into his. He shuts the door as soon as his tongue slips into your mouth.

It’s a few seconds before you push him off you. “You’re unbelievable!”

A giant smile spreads across his face as he looks down at you. “Only for you, mon chou!”

[reiderwriter]

Can I request a Spencer babying the reader BAU and everyone on the team is so done with it but reader is confused and oblivious...?

A/N: Thank you for your request! I've been very much feeling post-Prison/ later seasons Spencer recently, so I hope you enjoy this fic!

Warnings: mostly fluff, implied age-gap, slight mentor/mentee dynamic.

Your first year in the BAU would've been tough had it not been for Doctor Spencer Reid.

It was tough still, but without him, you don't think you'd have been able to handle much of it. He'd been your mentor through each case, taking you under his wing when he wasn't on academic leave, teaching his criminology courses at the FBI Academy.

Those weeks were the hardest, and you found yourself moping about in the office, texting him once or twice a trip for advice.

On one particularly hard case, he'd come back into the office after you'd text. Not to consult on the case, but just to drop you off a chamomile tea and a pastry to brighten your day that little bit.

When he was back, your days were great. He knew so much, and you learnt so much from him so quickly, eagerly consuming his every word. You were so eager to please him that you often forgot others around the two of you.

“Spencer, if you're done fawning after Y/N we have a case to work on,” Emily gently chastised the man as he pulled out your chair for you, ready to sit down to hear the details of your next crime.

“Oh, Emily, thank you, but it's okay. Doctor Reid was just being considerate, I'm sure he'd have done it for anyone.” The shared glances around the room were filled with glib secrecy, but no-one commented further, leaving you slightly baffled.

Those shared looks between the other members of your team had become more common as of late, with each one more worrisome than the next. There was something unsettling about being the only one out of the loop, and as the newest member of the team, and the youngest, it often felt disheartening.

“Y/N, don't worry. Being the youngest member of any team is tough, but you're smart and you're holding your own.” With a pat to your head he walked away, lifting the weight off your shoulders slightly but not fully. You needed to get to the bottom of the BAU's non-verbal communications, and you needed answers.

Your first technique was interrogation. Surely one of them would break and tell you if you laid out your thoughts and feelings clearly.

Surely not, you found, as each member casually and softly blew you off.

“Y/N, you just need to think carefully about how certain members of the team act towards you. How familiar they are. How overly familiar they are.” Tara had at least told you that much, bit it had left you just as confused as the radio silence from the others.

“Everyone has behaved very professionally with me. You've all been very welcoming up to this point, which I appreciate greatly.”

“I wouldn't count gifting you flowers for your first successful case as the most professional act, Y/N,” she said as she sipped her coffee. “But I suppose that is just up to interpretation.

Doctor Reid had sent you flowers after you finished your first case. But there had been extenuating circumstances in that case. You'd both worked on the geographical profile on that case, and together had figured out the species of flower the unsub was using was only cultivated on one local flower orchard. It had cracked the case open and you'd found your unsub hours later.

So the flowers were an extension of that small joint success. That was all.

Your second attempt at figuring out what was going on was observation.

Partially taking Tara’s advice, you tried your best to track the moments when each of the weary looks would come your way.

Overwhelmingly, they seemed to be directed towards Doctor Reid whenever the two of you interacted.

You had to gently inform him of this, before it interrupted both of your abilities to work.

“Doctor Reid, do you know why Emily and Rossi are both currently watching us from between the blinds in their offices?” You whispered to the man, leaning in close to his ear. You were quite sure he didn't know, but a question seemed as good a way as any to broach the topic.

“I do, yes. It's best if you ignore them.”

His nonchalance in the matter shocked you, so sure you were that this would be news to him. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.

“Why are they staring at us?” You finally managed to force the words out in a small squeak, forcing his eyes back to yours.

“Don't worry about it for now, I'll handle it.” He smiled down as you, and the bright gesture washed away more of the tension you'd been feeling in the office. You smiled back at him as he rose from his desk chair and carried himself to the stairs. You giggled when he winked down at you, just as you noticed Emily frantically hurrying away from her office window as Spencer knocked on her door.

As much as he told you to not worry about it all though, you really couldn't help yourself. You found yourself growing more clumsy under the watchful eyes of your entire team, galling more times than you'd care to admit into Doctor Reid's arms. He always caught you, though, and you were thankful you never did yourself serious injury.

You finally got the answers you'd craved out on a case about a month into your struggles.

There was something slightly unsettling about the way the female Sheriff was paying attention to Doctor Reid, and it made you uncomfortable. Your mouth ran dry when she touched his arm, but a small part of you warmed up again when he shrugged her off. Until, at least, you heard him explain why.

“I'm sorry, I'm a germophobe, so I'd really prefer you not touch me.” His voice was calm and steady; it really didn't seem like he was lying.

“You're not pulling my leg? I'm sorry if I came on too strong, but-”

“Why would I pull your leg, I said I don't like physical touch?”

“Well, there was that young girl earlier, Y/N was it? You had your hand on her back as you walked in, so I didn't think…”

The woman had made a good point, and you crept closer to the edge of the door to hear Doctor Reid - Spencer's response.

“Sheriff, if we're done here, do you think I could get back to my job?” You were almost disappointed in the change of topic, but you weren't all that sad to see the Sheriff remove herself from the room. Slipping in behind her you decided to test the new theory that had slipped into your mind in the last minutes.

You called out to him to grab his attention as you walked into the room but before he had the chance to turn and greet you, you threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed your body down against his, enveloping him in a back hug.

It was quite possibly the most familiar position you'd been in with him, but really it wasn't all that different from your usual proximity.

Unlike when the Sheriff casually brushed against him, he didn't stiffen, didn't pull away, but instead melted into your touch, looking up at you with a large grin.

You stood shocked for a minute before grinning back.

“Spencer, I think I know why everyone has been watching us for the last few weeks.” You said, causing his eyes to panic slightly as he acknowledged your words.

“The, uh, the Sheriff was just in here talking about a development either some of the DNA test results-” He desperately tried to change the subject, but you were locked in now, spinning his chair around to face you more as you came eye-to-eye with him.

“I know why the Sheriff was in here, Spencer, I heard it all.”

“It's not what you think,” you paused for a moment as your brow furrowed, trying to figure out if you'd somehow caught the wrong end of the stick.

“So our coworkers haven't been waiting for you to ask me out, having noticed large changes in your body language and attitude around me?”

“It's….exactly as you think.” His face was flushed with pink and your heart skipped a beat at the man in front of you. But you still had some questions.

“And you knew, but you didn't say anything to me despite the fact that I bought it up multiple times?”

“I'm…I'm not good with words," he frowned

“Are you good with dates?”

“Excuse me?”

“You're going to take me on a date when we get back to Quantico. After giving it some thought, Doctor Reid, it seems I've become quite enamoured of you.” You dropped into his lap then, sitting there like a cat pleased to take up residence on its owners legs. He stuttered for a few seconds but then found his voice again, face lighting up.

“Spencer. Please, Y/N, call me Spencer.”

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (III)

A whole lot of confusion as to whether Reader and her yakuza friend are actually dating. After much back and forth and a coworker being threatened, the awaited confession might finally take place.

Bonus part: Kazuya tells Reader about his and Daitou's past and how they ended up working for the yakuza.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

TW: Obsessive behavior, violence

Tags: @vinivave @ansy-tea @evvie8 @angelicbunnee @jingerbreadoutofstock @azukoya @randomlyblues @alien-consummation @neverlandlostchild @mimiemie @toji-whore @cloudie-skay @lilkittenmitten

The items are scanned and Kazuya finishes paying. He looks back, searching for Daitou, and finds him wandering among the narrow aisles of magazines and manga. They'd stopped by the konbini at the train station after their job.

"Here's your bentou." The blonde man extends a small box, eyeing his friend suspiciously. "Say, do you have an upset stomach or something? You're uglier than usual." 

Daitou thanks him with a nod, but doesn't take the neatly packaged food. He's idly playing with the cover of a romance volume, bending and straightening its corner.

"Nah, nothing like that. Just, ya know, feels a bit like (Y/N)'s been avoiding me. She hurries straight home after work and barely waves hi. I thought we'd do more things together now that we're dating."

Kazuya nearly spits out the soda he opened while listening to Daitou's troubles. He snorts and quickly wipes his mouth. 

"Wait, are you serious? You actually asked her out? And she said yes??"

Daitou thinks back to the time he gifted you your stalker's finger and teeth, the way you defended him, and the way you quietly walked home and almost held hands. That pretty much made it official, didn't it? So he confidently nods to his utterly baffled partner in crime.

"You little rascal, you! Who would've thought you had it in you?!" He cheerfully slaps Daitou's back and wraps his arm around his neck. The dark haired man blushes and scratches his cheek awkwardly. "You should've told me earlier!"

True. Between the two of them, Kazuya has always been extremely charismatic and popular with women. His perfectly combed blonde hair, his sparkling designer suits, his luxuriously elegant cologne. The handsome features and assertive smile. More than once he'd been approached by modeling agencies, and he likes to joke his lust for violence stopped him from living the glamorous life. In comparison, Daitou has the opposite effect on people. The room will empty if he steps inside. He's unnervingly tall, with bulging muscles, has multiple scars crossing his face, and his prosthetic eye always ends up twisted in the strangest position, causing him to look like he's only missing the straight jacket. Everyone is shocked upon hearing about their friendship. 

So it makes sense that Kazuya would have the required experience to offer him decent advice when it comes to (Y/N).

"Listen here, if there's one thing you should know, it's that women like a guy that fights for them. You gotta show them you care. What can you offer that other guys can't?"

The tall man listens intently, with a concentrated frown as if taking mental notes. He's not entirely sure who he should fight in this ordeal, but he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of Kazuya, so he nods vehemently to his words.

"That's the short preview. If you have any more questions, just come over later. I'm piss tired, so I'll go home and have the nap of a lifetime." He yawns deeply to showcase his exhaustion and slowly walks away, throwing his hand in a lazy wave. 

The yakuza remains standing, still ruminating over the words of wisdom generously offered by the expert himself. Is he to randomly beat up people on the street as you watch? Won't Boss be angry if he attacks civilians? He gasps in realization. Perhaps this is what Kazuya meant. What kind of man is he if he can't even go against his Boss? So what if Boss won't like it? He has to prove himself to you. 

With newfound determination, he clenches his fists and gazes out of the window. 

That's when he notices you. You seem to be returning from work. Even more - and this causes his jaw to tighten in anger - some unknown man is walking next to you, cheerfully chitchatting and gesturing. 

That settles it. 

"You really didn't have to walk me home." You laugh clumsily to the man at your side.

A new coworker recently joined your company, and you've been asked to show him the ropes. You gradually discovered you had quite a lot in common, throughout your ample opportunities to gossip and talk leisurely. Your schedule isn't as packed nowadays, given you'll show up earlier and leave later.

Normally you'd prefer to be in your warm bed as soon as possible, but you've been feeling rather tense since the incident with Daitou. During his heated exchange with Kazuya, you've heard mentions of 'being liked by women' and 'having a crush on someone'. You thought it involved you and you nervously awaited further explanations from Daitou himself, but on the way back he was completely silent. You didn't have the courage to bring it up, so you assumed there must've been a misunderstanding somewhere along the way. 

Which, after all, would make plenty of sense. What business would a yakuza have with you? He's already shown much more courtesy than it was required of him. Hoping he'd also confess his feelings on top of everything was downright ridiculous and you're embarrassed to admit you'd harbored such cheesy fantasies to begin with. 

"Don't sweat it. You might not know", the coworker warns with lowered voice, "but this area is reeking of gangsters. I'm surprised you've been fine so far, but you should be more careful."

"O-oh...I see..." You glance at him and hold back a smirk. You doubt he could protect you from Daitou or Kazuya, but you appreciate his chivalry nonetheless. 

There's an uncomfortable pause as you stand in your doorframe, having reached the intended destination. The man hasn't left yet, waiting expectantly. He lowers his head towards yours and you swiftly slam the door, muttering something about an emergency. 

"Cute." He thinks to himself as he chuckles and steps away.

There's always a next time.

The coworker heads towards the train station in a relaxed strut. At the first intersection, however, he feels his clothes being pulled and he finds himself abruptly shoved in an empty room by an unknown assailant. 

Daitou easily lifts him up by his collar and nonchalantly throws him in a chair. It seems to be a small storage unit, possibly belonging to one of the shops. 

"What's your business with (Y/N)?" He barks.

"Huh? I should be the one asking-" The man pauses for a second, going over his conversations with you. "Could it be that you're the stalker she mentioned?"

Naturally, you had left out the part where your stalker was carefully packaged and dumped in a place unknown. To your coworker, he was very much still alive and a potential threat.

The yakuza is taken aback. 

"I'm her boyfriend!" He retorts angrily. 

"Bullshit. She doesn't have a boyfriend."

Another slap to the face. Daitou's cheeks are becoming increasingly red and he runs his fingers through his hair, attempting to calm down. Why, this son of a...

He marches to one of the metal shelves behind, grabbing his tool belt. Simultaneously, the door opens and Kazuya sheepishly peeks his head in. His blonde locks are ruffled and one can tell he's freshly woken up. 

"Yo, I just realized I might've been too metaphorical with you back at the store so I've been texting you, but you didn't-...Wait, why is there a guy handcuffed to the chair?"

He crosses his arms, with a habitual scolding glare towards his friend. 

"I just caught this cockroach flirting with (Y/N)! Went all the way to her place!" Daitou whines, his face full of indignation.

"Of course you know where she lives, you fucking stalker." The coworker exclaims bitterly. 

"Watch your mouth buddy, he ain't no stalker!" Kazuya straightens his back and approaches the mysterious man. "If he's right, and you've been messing with his woman...We ain't letting that go. Today you learn why no one fucks with the yakuza." 

The two men exchange a knowing look.

You drop yourself on the sofa and groan. Tomorrow will certainly be strange. Was the coworker trying to kiss you just now? You'll have to think of a polite way to turn him down next shift. Is it because you're not interested, or because you're still hoping to have a chance with Daitou? You slap your cheeks vigorously, trying to pull yourself out of such thoughts. 

You suddenly notice the foreign wallet sticking out of your bag. Your  coworker had dropped it earlier today while running for the train, and you offered to throw it in your bag to save time. Except you forgot to return it.

You check your phone. It hasn't been that long, so maybe you can still reach him if you hurry. Without much contemplation, you pluck the wallet and sprint out.

As you dash past the buildings, you have the idea of calling the man and asking him to wait instead. Why run like a madman? You stop and rest a hand against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Ugh, you've been so scattered today. This should've been the obvious choice, instead you sprang out. Silly. 

From around the corner you can make out the familiar wails you've learned to ignore. Whoever the yakuza tortures is not your problem. You are about to scurry away, yet something about these whimpers feels odd. No...Could it be?

You tiptoe down the vacant alleyway and try to catch a glimpse inside through the small, dirty window. As a matter of fact, it is your beloved coworker. Kazuya is holding his arm against a table, with the fingers forcefully fanned out, and Daitou has a blade secured over the pinky finger. 

You elbow yourself against the door in a theatrical entry. 

"What the hell are you guys doing?! That's my coworker!" You yell.

Daitou freezes, and Kazuya instantly releases his grasp. They turn to you, shocked.

"Stay out of it, (Y/N), this is to be settled among men. This bastard insulted your boyfriend, we can't let it slide!" Kazuya regains his composure and defends his cause fervently, pointing to the man that's now sobbing and crying uncontrollably. 

"Boyfriend?" You question, mouth agape. 

The blonde man stares at you. 

"You're...You're dating, aren't you?"

"Since when?" You demand, confused and upset.

Both you and Kazuya turn to Daitou for answers.

"I'm going to ask you one more time. Did you actually ask her out, Daitou? Did you say it out loud?" Kazuya's voice breaks in exasperation.

"W-well, I didn't...I didn't say it, but I thought..." the man's eyes dart between you and his friend. He gulps. "W-we almost held hands, didn't we?"

Overwhelmed with anger, the blonde stomps over to the shelves and kicks one to make his point, loudly bemoaning his friend's lack of social awareness. He can't believe he went along with his nonsense. Him, of all people! He should've anticipated it. 

As the coworker weeps and Kazuya continues his foul monologue, you can't help the blush that's now burning across your face. You fidget anxiously next to the tattooed man.

"Y-you thought we were dating?"

"Sorry for not making it clear." Daitou is once again twiddling with his prosthetic eye, dejected. "Is it too late to ask you out now? Because I do like you a lot..."

"Since you put it so nicely...I can't really say no~" Your ears are bright red and you're twirling your hair. Is it truly happening? Are you dreaming? Everything feels snug and fuzzy and the butterflies are swarming your stomach. 

You don't have time to enjoy your romantic encounter, as Kazuya is now behind you, clearing his throat.

"Alright, you lovebirds, what about this one here, then?" 

You suddenly remember your coworker and an icy cold flashes through your body. 

"Oh God, how will I explain this at work? I'll get fired!" You bite your nails in terror. You can already visualize the slip of unemployment. The long lines at the Job Center, you and the homeless. Panic begins to build up. 

Until Daitou's large hands rest on your shoulders. He's unexpectedly warm. 

"Don't worry about it, (Y/N). I'll have a word with Boss, and we can get you a job here. This way we can spend more time together", he suggests with childish enthusiasm. 

You glance up at him, moved by his soothing words.

"I wouldn't want to bother you like that."

"Hey, it's my fault you ended up in this situation. You can leave everything to me." He reassures you proudly.

"That didn't answer my damn question." Kazuya points out, annoyed.

"Can't we just kill him or something? He did call me a stalker, and I'm still upset about that..."

Daitou stretches and sighs in boredom, pondering the options. Once he's decided on the outcome, he shoos you away lovingly. You don't need to see this part. 

Bonus: Daitou's backstory 

"Oh, right, how did it go with your tickets?"

Kazuya is walking beside you, hands in pockets. Every now and then he removes the cigarette from his mouth to tap away the piling ash.

"Well, I still have both kidneys, but I won't be swimming in cash for the next months at least." You respond, slouching your shoulders dramatically for the effect. 

"Flying abroad is always expensive. Unless, I don't know, you book years in advance."

"Yeah. I should've looked earlier, but I wasn't sure about my work schedule. At least I get to see my family and friends for Christmas." 

After a few more steps in silence, you glance up at the blonde man. He notices your curious stare and raises his eyebrows, as if encouraging you to speak up. 

"What about you? Will you be going home for the holidays?"

He grins at your question and proudly places a hand on his chest.

"This is my home, actually! I was born and raised in this very neighborhood."

"Really? Was it not a yakuza quarter before?" Your eyes widen at his statement. 

"It was." Kazuya blows some of his smoke in your direction and you cough lightly. "You know the soapland further down the street?"

You nod.

"Mom used to work there. One of the clients got her pregnant and she found out too late. She had a room upstairs, and I just kind of tagged along. The other girls looked after me, too."

You recall one instance when Kazuya received a phone call about some drunkard causing a ruckus at the brothel, and he shot up without a word, rushed out and returned with bloodied knuckles. At the time, you'd assumed he's a client himself and maybe got attached to one of the girls. Now it makes sense. You're a little embarrassed of your obvious prejudice. If he grew up there, it must be his way of showing gratitude to the workers who loved him despite the circumstances. 

"Oh, what about Daitou, then? Is he from the area, too?"

The man frowns and purses his lips thoughtfully. After a moment, his features soften up again and he sighs.

"I suppose you're his girlfriend, after all. It's also not a secret per se..."

Your ears perk up at the strange reaction to your inquiry. 

"I mean, it's just a bit of a grim topic. No one knows for sure. Boss found him on the streets years ago, when he was a wee kid." 

He presses his thumb and index finger together, emphasizing the small size to you. 

"I don't know all the details, just what the Seniors told me - I was a kid myself back then - but it was pretty bad. Had no shoes on, scratches and cuts all over. His left eye was swollen and terribly infected, that's how he lost it, actually. Boss felt sorry for him, so he took him in.

They did try to ask him for parents or relatives, but apparently he wouldn't speak at all. Took him like a year to finally open his mouth. Even now, if you ask him anything about his past, he just pretends he didn't hear you. So maybe don't bring it up to him."

You shake your head along, urging him to continue with more details. Kazuya seems to warm up to the memories and slows down, indulging in the recollection. 

"Anyways, one day Boss' car is followed and he gets shot in the shoulder. Some snot-nosed trainees from the rival gang. They hadn't even gotten their pins yet, wanted to impress their older brothers I guess.

Daitou heard about it and went after them. One of our Seniors - he's a tough guy alright, been with the Family for decades - he told me he was sweating like mad when they found him. Daitou was just a teen at the time, but he butchered those guys up so bad they couldn't tell them apart anymore. Even bit a few bullets, and still kept going, like a crazed animal. The adults were freaking out. They didn't expect him to be this strong.

I suspect they were pretty afraid of him, you know? They were probably thinking, "if one day he has it out for us, we're done for!", so they told Boss they should kick him out. But at this point Daitou was like his own son, so he laughed and said, "What's the matter with ya, he does your dirty work and you wanna get rid of him?! If the boy wants to fight, let him!", and he arranged for Daitou to join the Family officially. I was recruited around the same time.

We didn't get along at first, I mean, they warned me to stay away because he's crazy and also Boss' favorite. He didn't hang out with anyone. He had his own jobs, the mercenary stuff no one else wanted to deal with.

You might not believe it, but back then I was an angry, stubborn asshole. It didn't sit well with me that this guy was out there, doing his own thing. I had a reputation myself, before I dropped out of high school I was pretty much undefeated. I thought I'd see it with my own eyes, this all-powerful jackass even the Seniors avoided."

You smile faintly, trying to imagine a young Kazuya without the expensive, flashy suit and polished appearance.

"So one evening I just walked up to him and told him to join me outside. Didn't even give him a speech, just rammed my fist into his face. This was my signature move, you know, I can't even count how many guys I knocked out with this punch. Straight into the jaw, sends your brain spinning. Whew, and this guy? He didn't even flinch! Just stood there and looked at me like I was dumb. I was pissed off at this point, you can imagine, it felt like he was mocking me. So I yelled we ain't done until one of us gives up. 

He understood what I wanted and finally fought me earnestly. Hell, he even knocked some of my teeth out. This one here's an implant. Mad expensive. Anyhow, as much as it hurt my pride, I'd lost fair and square. So I got up, wiped the blood, and asked him to come grab a drink with me. My treat. 

You should've seen his face, (Y/N). I think it was the first time I've witnessed him smile. 'Really? Can I? Are you sure?' He was like a stray dog after you've thrown him some leftovers. Kept that dumb grin the whole night. You could've given him a clown hat and people would've paid to see the circus. 

That's when I realized this poor bastard probably just wanted a friend. The next day I went to pick him up again and he was beaming like a princess. Heh. Afterwards he started following me around and eventually Boss called me in. I thought I got into trouble or something, even brought a bunch of gauze pads in case I needed to slice off my finger. Turns out he'd heard of us becoming pals, and he asked me to maybe attend Daitou every now and then because he always leaves a mess and everyone's too scared to deal with him. We've been teamed together ever since."

You realize you've been standing in the same spot ever since Kazuya begun talking, completely entranced by his story. He chuckles upon seeing your expression and ruffles your hair. 

"Man, I sure rambled a lot. Sorry about that. In any case, that was my piece about Daitou. I'm sure you already know this, but he's not a bad guy. Just has a twisted sense of loyalty. Once he finds someone to serve, he doesn't see anything else.

Hell, I'm his closest friend and I'm convinced he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if it was for Boss."

Upon further consideration, he smiles and winks at you.

"Or for you. Especially you."

[hs-is-loml]

Married to Who. (cl16)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Famous!Wolff!Reader

Summary: y/n and her husband have been so private that fans would've never thought she was married to an F1 driver of all people or when fans are starting to make connections and figure out who y/n's husband is

Type: Social Media AU! face claim is Alycia Debnam-Carey

Warnings: like 4 grammar mistakes in the twitter threads + some comments accusations/insinuations of cheating but that's because they don't know charles and reader are married...

a/n: this took longer than i expected but hope you all enjoy!

all translations of french/spanish come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist

twitter

instagram

yourusername has posted

liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 1,621,936 others

yourusername all of these pictures were from before summer break, and you can tell why they need a mid-season break from each other...

tagged carlossainz55, danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, and charles_leclerc

view all 146,571 comments

carlossainz55 great picture of charles and i, chica (girl)

→ yourusername yeah sure, great...

→ y/nstan i love her

protectthewags y/n and her husband always takes the best soft launch pictures

→ thef1wags soft launch? they've been doing this for the past 3 years 😭 they need to hard launch.

→ y/nforlifeee her husband is the strongest soldier out there when she's around all these hot men

lewishamilton roscoe and i didn't make the cut this time...

→ yourusername my past two posts have been literally about you and dad at the last race😀

→ roscoelovescoco we's can'ts beelieve you's

→ mercedes8time not lewis using roscoe's account to come after y/n for not including him in the post

danielricciardo didn't know max was into that kind of stuff

→ maxverstappen1 you enjoyed it, don't lie

→ yourusername maxie, sweetie, look at his face. the man was in pain

→ liked by danielricciardo and 309 others

charles_leclerc mon ange... what is this (my angel)

→ yourusername it's an appreciation post, cha

→ carlosconfusion the nicknames>>

→ f1circuittrack how is her husband okay? more importantly is y/n doing okay? because i would leave my partner too if charles leclerc ever called me, mon ange

yourusername has posted a story

twitter

instagram

yourusername has posted a story

instagram

charles_leclerc has posted

liked by landonorris, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, and 1,791,938 others

charles_leclerc she's real, guys😅 well, i hope she's real or i've been with casper for the last 5 years...

view all 201,963 comments

arthurleclerc maman said she doesn't know how your wife is real either or more so how you managed to convince her to marry your ass

→ charles_leclerc maman did not say that.

→ arthurleclerc you're right, she said she doesn't know how such an amazing girl got with a buffoon.

→ ferraritearss WIFE???

→ partytotheafterparty HIS WIFE? WHAT DO YOU MEAN WIFE?

→ paddoook no way this man has not only a girl but is MARRIED to her😀

worldchampionsisaid man is fighting for break on and off track after the imaginary girlfriend rumors on twitter💀

→ thatonebakucorner he was quick to correct them too

→ f1propstand he's over people thinking he's that delulu after the resigning of his Ferrari contract...

carlossainz55 i will never understand how she deals with you 24/7 or your cooking. oh, wait, she cooks when you guys are home

→ liked by arthurleclerc and 410 others

danielricciardo nope. she's totally a ghost.

→ f1memes not daniel gaslighting him😭

lilymhe aww! tell her i miss her and love the nails!!

→ 16crying55laughing lily, tell us what you know

twitter

instagram

yourusername has posted

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, susie_wolff, and 1,361,590 others

yourusername perfect timing for our summer break photo dump

tagged charles_leclerc

view all 201,319 comments

charles_leclerc mon amour, je t'aimais alors, je t'aime maintenant et je t'aimerai pour toujours ❤️(my love, I loved you then, I love you now and I will love you forever)

→ yourusername i have loved you since the first time our eyes met

y/nforlifeee i've never seen two people that compliment each other so well

→ y/nsidelove their kids are going to be so beautiful

susie_wolff safe travels, sweethearts!

→ yourusername see you, dad, and jack soon🤍

landonorris honestly, i don't know how people didn't figure it out sooner

→ maxverstappen1 yeah, these two are like rabbits

→ carlossainz55 i share a hotel room wall with them half the season. i'm forever scared

danielricciardo no, you're definitely casper the ghost

→ yourusername i will block you💀

→ danielricciardo i wonder why that reply was invisible?

leclerc_pascale tout mon amour pour vous deux❤️ (all my love for you both)

→ liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 651 others

scuderiaferrari our favourite girl with whoever that guy is!

mercedesamgf1 mini boss with lightning mcqueen🙈

→ charles_leclerc we're not starting this again.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

Regrets Sting

Spencer Reid x bau!reader | part 1

part 2

Summary: You have always been there for Spencer. Turns out, he's never going to be there for you.

Warning: Angst.

A/N: one of my many drafts... enjoy 👀?

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

You love Dr. Spencer Reid.

As a colleague, a friend, and, well, a respected man.

Granted, you spent most of your days with a small herd of profilers, but you were great at hiding your feelings for him, if you do say so yourself.

You watched him smile awkwardly with love from one woman to the other. Then, there was Maeve. He was in love with her. You didn't need your profiling skills to lead to that conclusion.

It broke your heart when you heard Spencer's plea. It broke your heart when he couldn't even function properly. And your heart broke for him as you watched him fall on his knees, crying over Maeve.

So you chose friendship. You always have, after all.

You became his anchor. His support. His best friend.

You were there for him. You were there when he was ready to open up. You lent him your shoulder. You became his personal napkin, soaking up all his tears in the hopes that it would lessen the pain, even just a little bit. You kept him company, dragging him out of his apartment to bring him anywhere besides the gloom in his empty home.

And without him, or you, knowing, you gave him your heart. You were in love with Dr. Spencer Reid.

It made you feel guilty, but it was inevitable. Who would've known you could fall deeper than you already were? Not even you, apparently.

And yet, you remained the person he could cry on for two years. You pawned him a shoulder for a long, drawn-out two years. Shoving your feelings in the back of your mind as if it wasn't anything important to you.

The deeper you fell for him, the faster the team caught up with your feelings.

JJ figured it out first when she saw the ends of your hair as you walked in Spencer's apartment the first year of Maeve's death. Spencer had been unresponsive to everyone, but not to you. You managed to get him to open his door just by the sound of your footsteps. She knew, then, that he was in good hands.

Emily and Derek noticed how you felt at the same time. You were all on a case, and an officer who awfully looked a lot like Maeve emerged. You were protective of Spencer and knew exactly what his reaction would be. So you had everything he needed and offered to work with him before Hotch could even mention it. Of course, along with that was Penelope getting a confirmation about your feelings for Spencer.

Rossi always knew. He always saw the way you would giggle silently to yourself whenever Spencer sassed his statistics into them. One time, he saw you clean Spencer's desk before everyone arrived. And he suspected that you did so a while back before he caught you.

Hotch? He noticed, but he said nothing unless you verbally told him. He thought you weren't ready to openly admit your feelings to the team yet, so who was he to mention it?

And so it goes...

Emily would grin whenever Spencer gave you coffee every morning. Derek would wiggle his eyebrows whenever he caught your gaze on Spencer, then gossip about it with Penelope, which led to her teasing you 'til sundown. Rossi, at times, tried to ease your feelings when they surfaced. Your solid companion whenever you felt down. And Hotch was ever a menace, stern face or not. He would partner you and Spencer up, specifically on the days when your feelings for the genius were oddly stronger.

So, you could only imagine the heartbreak when Spencer arrived one morning with the wrong order of your coffee and a wide smile as he told you that he was going out on a date.

You immediately showed your protest. Of course, Spencer wasn't happy about it. What was worse was he didn't know why. And worse than that was you couldn't tell him why.

Or so you thought.

"I don't understand why you're making a big deal out of this," Spencer followed you as you walked around the bullpen.

"You just met this woman, Spence. I think it's safe to say, I'm worried. You don't even know whether this person is safe." You lied. You had to. He didn't need to know you didn't want him to go on a date because it would break you.

Spencer crossed his arms, knitting his eyebrows as he felt offended by your words. "I'm a profiler and have 187 IQ. I can take care of myself." He stated, earning a couple of stares from the other agents.

You mirrored his actions, "Really?" You challenged, nodding in his direction, specifically to his tie. "You can't even tie the same tie you've been wearing for years properly. Looks like you haven't done laundry too, because, as far as I can remember, you've been wearing that same vest for the past three days. Are you going to wear that on your date?" You raised a brow.

Emily's eyes blew wide, pursing her lips to eat her laughter in. She looked away in hopes that the urge to burst into fits of laughter would subside. Unfortunately, Derek was doing the same thing, and they both snorted at the same time.

"Obviously, I'm not going to wear this on the date. This is clearly not about how homeless I look like. Just be honest with me and tell me why you're so against me being happy." Spencer's voice climbed an octave higher. He was frustrated and confused, and you both knew how much he hated both.

You closed your eyes and sighed deeply. You really had no other choice, do you? You turned around to face Spencer, "I'm in love with you." You confessed, hoarding the entire bullpen's attention.

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head, "Right, nice joke."

"I'm not joking." It offended you a bit. How much he compared your confession to a silly joke.

Spencer's face darkened. He uncrossed his arms and dipped his hands inside his pockets. His next words broke your heart, "I'm very disappointed in you."

Your eyes widened. Your mouth fell open as you heard your heart break into pieces, so loud you couldn't get a sense of what more he was saying.

"I came to you for two years to mend. You became my best friend because I thought I could trust you. And now, you're in love with me? Did you help me just so you could gain my affection?"

It stung. The silence that fogged the bullpen was deafening. Emily wanted to claw Spencer's eyes, but JJ was fast to hold her back.

Derek began to move beside you, "Reid, don't—"

Your manic laugh cut him off.

Spencer's eyebrows narrowed, "What?" His voice was far from the gentle one you were used to.

"You know what, Reid?" You scoffed, running your tongue on your lower lip to control your anger. "You're right. I was there for you. I was there to lend you a shoulder to cry on. I was there to keep you company. I made you smile. I even made you laugh! And sure, you're very disappointed in me because, god forbid, I fell for the genius prodigy. With the 187 IQ you're boasting, imagine my disappointment when you can't even figure out that I have feelings for you."

The bullpen fell silently dead as you stared at Spencer with such hatred it made his stomach climb on his throat. He has never seen you so... disgusted.

You couldn't take it. You couldn't look at him in the eyes anymore. You felt like you were going to throw up the longer you stood in the center of it all.

His words insulted you. And it hurt like a bitch.

There were many possibilities on how Spencer could've responded to your feelings, but this was beyond your limit.

You bit your lower lip, hesitant yet eager to spill the next words that came out of your mouth. "For the record, I regret falling in love with you." And with that, you left.

An offer from another unit had been sitting in your inbox. And despite having no plan to leave such a beautiful family of colleagues, you filled out the transfer form. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that you needed an out sooner or later. And Spencer's insensitive reaction was just the right motivation you needed.

The Monday after your outburst became the BAU team's worst nightmare.

Spencer immediately noticed your absence. He knew. Of course, he did. You were always the first person to greet him as you spun around in your seat. It was rare for you to be late.

You haven't contacted him for days, either. And he didn't have the guts to do it first. He has been drowning in guilt and couldn't figure out how he'd make it up to you. He realized how unfair he was to you, albeit too late.

Everyone arrived one by one, and there was still no sign of you until Hotch cleared his throat, "Let's start."

Penelope stumbled, hesitating at the sight of your empty seat. "What about..." She softly muttered and yet loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Agent..." Hotch sighed as he spoke your name. He still remembered how you went back to his office while everyone was out for their lunch break and submitted your transfer request. "She officially transferred to unit 4, violent criminal apprehension program... today," Hotch announced, much to his dismay.

Derek's eyebrows knitted, glancing outside the window of the conference room to your desk. "Are you kidding? Her stuff is still here."

Hotch took a deep breath, glancing at Spencer for a moment. "She said they were unnecessary items." He cleared his throat and gestured for Penelope to continue what she was doing.

Regrets stung Spencer like a thousand bees.

Most of the things that clattered on your desk were things that you both shared. His pens that you never gave back. Post-it notes he left for you that had no importance, but you kept them up on the wall of your cubicle. A photo booth picture of the two of you from one of Rossi's Christmas parties. The small bookshelf on top of your desk overflowing with Spencer's annotated books.

"But she didn't even tell us. She didn't say goodbye." Penelope exclaimed. Her eyes matched the frown on her lips. She couldn't help but talk about you. After all, they were your family for many years.

"Could you blame her though?" Emily scoffed, giving Spencer a glare.

Spencer messed up. Big time. And he has no idea how he would make it up to you.