#just know that details range from 'very' to 'none'

[juniperskye]

Without You

Sneak Peek: Aaron and you have been dating for over a year now…the thing is, the BAU team has no idea. When Aaron does something reckless that could cost him his life, will you expose the relationship you have worked so hard to keep under wraps?

Aaron Hotchner x BAU Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 2371

Warnings: One use of y/n, age gap, mentions of anxiety/anxiety attack, some language, canon typical violence, mentions of death, explosion, BAU case details (similar to those of s7e23), severe emotional pain, mentions of Haley’s death, mention of Jack, secret relationship, JJ is still the media liaison (it just fit better for the plot) if I missed any – let me know!

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Aaron Hotchner had very quickly become your best friend. Your friendship had come so naturally, despite a pretty significant age gap. After two years of what could only be described as painfully obvious yearning from both parties, Aaron finally gained the courage to ask you to dinner. Even though it took two weeks before you could actually act on that invitation, the date had gone better than expected. Aaron had been a perfect gentleman; bringing you flowers, opening your door, holding your hand, paying for your meal, actually listening when you spoke.

That’s why it had been so easy to fall in love with him. Things with Aaron truly had been effortless, falling into a comfortable routine in which you would drive to his place after work, relieve the babysitter, get Jack started on homework while you got dinner going. Since meeting Jack, back before you’d even begun dating Aaron, you were one of his favorite people. You had spoiled Jack since you’d met the boy, he was just so sweet, and he’d reminded you of your nephews…it was easy to spend time with him. Aaron would come home to Jack helping set the table and you plating up the food. He’d wrap you up in an embrace and the three of you would sit and enjoy your meal while discussing how your days went (mostly Jack talking about school).

The one thing in your relationship that had not been effortless was keeping it a secret from your team. There had already been much speculation as to whether or not Aaron and you had feelings for one another amongst the agents. Dave was the one who pestered Aaron the most, constantly encouraging him to take a chance on love, that it wouldn’t always end like it had with Haley. In your case it had been Penelope, she and you had grown close over your time at the BAU, and she could see the tell-tale signs of a blossoming crush for your superior.

The two of you hadn’t initially planned to hide your relationship, but after many late-night conversations about it and a lengthy pros and cons list, you had determined, for the time being, keeping things quiet was the best option. That was nearly eleven months ago. You and Aaron had been together for about a year and a half, living together for four months…things had not been easy. You guys had to work hard to keep your feelings at bay on tough missions. There had been an instance of you getting stabbed by an unsub, thankfully the wound was superficial, and you were fine, but it had taken everything in Aaron not to run to you and take you into his arms. That was one of many hardships you had faced, but none of those would have prepared you for today.

A call had come in to the BAU at 9:53 am. The call rang to Aaron’s direct line, which meant it was a time sensitive case, usually a child abduction or in this case, a hostage situation. Aaron came out of his office swiftly, calling everyone’s attention without even speaking.

“There is a hostage situation at First Union bank. We’ve been called in by Virgina PD, who is already on the scene and SWAT is currently on their way as well. Everyone needs to gather their things and head to the garage” Aaron gave his orders, and everyone sprang into action.

As you all made your way to the government issued SUVs, Aaron continued briefing everyone and he gave out assignments.

“Alright Garcia and Reid, I want you two in the mobile command unit digging into our unsubs, we need to identify them. JJ, I need you to control the media with this, I don’t want any details getting out without my approval. Morgan and Prentiss go check in with SWAT and go over our plan. Y/N and Dave you will take point on the negotiations. Understood?” Aaron looked to everyone for confirmation.

There were collective nods, and everyone went to their separate posts to get started. You and Dave made your way over to one of the command center tents, discussing with the officers there that you would be in charge of the negotiations. They filled you in on what had happened thus far, and you worked to devise your initial approach. Dave and you had made contact with the unsubs, they were demanding a helicopter and one million dollars (a truly ridiculous request on their part). Approximately fifteen minutes later, Garcia and Reid rushed to where you, Dave and Aaron were standing.

“We have identified the unsubs! The two men are brothers, Michael and James Snyder. They are connected to at least eight other bank robberies around the northeastern United Staes. The woman, her name is Katiya Kuznetsov she is not connected to the robberies, but she is flagged under the FBI’s most wanted. She’s thought to be the mastermind behind dozens of explosions in North America from the last nine months.” Garcia explained. Aaron radioed to request the bomb squad.

“Why would she be working with these two? Robbing banks isn’t quite the same M.O. as blowing up buildings.” You questioned.

“We looked into it, and it seems that she may have connections to someone who owns a safety deposit box at this bank. We don’t know what is in it, but we were able to narrow down the list of potentials.” Reid answered.

“This changes things, we need to get in there and apprehend them. We need to get the civilians out. I think our best option would be for us to breach with SWAT and local PD.” Aaron explained.

“Hotch, that seems a little drastic don’t you think? If we just barge in there, who’s to say they don’t just start shooting the hostages. Dave and I were making progress and now that we know who they are, perhaps we can get them to break.” You could feel your anxiety eating away at you, the thought of Aaron barging in there terrified you.

“Sorry kid, but I’m with Aaron on this one. We were making some progress, but not enough and given this new information, I think it is safe to assume that there is probably a bomb in the bank somewhere, the sooner we get the hostages out, the better.” Rossi shut your idea down.

You could feel the bile rising up your throat. Your palms were starting to sweat and your pulse quickening. You knew what was about to happen, Aaron was going to give out assignments which meant he was diving headfirst into danger while he ensured your safety.

“Alright here’s what we will do, Morgan and I will go in the front, try to talk the unsubs down. Prentiss and Reid you will go through the back, with SWAT and the bomb squad try to locate the explosive and disable it. Garcia, I want you to keep eyes inside the bank the whole time, keep us posted of everything you see through comms. Dave and you can stay out here and monitor the phones, I want you to call in to distract them while we enter, I think it might buy us some leeway.” Aaron gave the assignments.

You gave Aaron a pointed look, one that expressed all of your nerves and anxiety. He looked back at you, it was stern as far as any onlooker could tell, but you could see the softness flash across his features. He was silently telling you that everything would be okay, and for a moment, you believed that it would be.

Time seemed to slow then. Everyone was moving, following orders hastily. But you, you were glued to your spot…Dave’s hand on your shoulder is what finally snapped you out of your thoughts.

“He’ll be okay kid.” Dave tried to soothe your nerves.

You called into the bank to try and steal the attention of the unsubs as Aaron had requested, all the while agents were moving through the bank. Suddenly Garcia’s voice rang over the comms.

“One of the unsubs slipped away. I’m assuming to get to the explosive. I am working to get the blueprints of the bank so we can figure out where it is set up.” Garcia rushed.

Gunshots echoed through the air, the comms were buzzing with shouts from Aaron, Morgan, Prentiss, Dave and some other voices you couldn’t pin down.

The fact that you could hear Aaron’s voice helped to calm your nerves as he clearly hadn’t been shot. His next words soothed your mind even more so.

“We have Michael and James in custody, Morgan is walking the hostages out now. I am going to go and assist the others in finding Katiya and the explosive.” Aaron called over the comms.

Dave could see you tense at Aaron’s words; he once again laid his hand on your shoulder in hopes to ease your mind. Morgan walked over to you and Dave after placing the unsubs in the police cars that were standing by.

What happened next brought your world crashing down.

The silence over the comms had been eerie. Everything paused and then it happened. The bank had exploded, right before your eyes. You had been far enough away that the blast hadn’t knocked you over, but it still left your ears ringing.

Had Morgan and Dave’s ears not already been ringing they definitely would have been after the scream that ripped through your body.

“NOO!!!!!” You screamed.

You couldn’t form a coherent thought; you sobbed and lurched your body forward in hopes of going to find Aaron. Before you could make it three steps, Morgan had his arms around your waist holding you back. He turned you around and held you while you pounded your fists against his chest.

“Sweetheart you can’t go in there. I know we have people in there and waiting for them to get out is going to feel like an eternity. But until we get any sort of confirmation, we need to try and stay positive.” Morgan explained.

Garcia and JJ joined you, Dave and Morgan, tears streaming down their faces, all of them silently hoping your team family would make it out unscathed.

You could feel it coming on, the more time had passed. Your breaths were shallow, body clammy, your vision was going blurry, you were having a hard time keeping yourself upright. Dave was the one to notice and lead you away from the group, he held your hands and was saying something about you needing to match his breathing.

“Dave I…I c-can’t. W-what if he doesn’t make it out? I w-would d-die without him Dave!” You hiccupped.

“He’s going to make it out. But remember that you are strong and no matter what happens you will make it through this.” Dave reminds you.

“No! Dave, you don’t understand without Aaron, sure, the rain would fall, the children would play, the tides would change but I-I would die.” You looked away from Dave momentarily “I die without you.” You whispered.

You saw heads start turning in the direction of the alleyway that was adjacent to what was once the bank, as you followed suit, the bile returned – easing its way up your throat.  A body bag, with no other signs of Aaron. Your mind jumped to the worst-case scenario and your legs finally gave out. Dave tried to catch you as you fell to the ground, another gut-wrenching sob ripping its way through you.

You didn’t register the loss of Dave’s arms around your shoulders, not until he moved to pull you up off the ground and turn you in the direction of the group of agents making their way towards you. You tried to protest, telling Dave that nothing mattered anymore, until he physically turned your chin towards them.

“Aaron?” It came out as an exhale, below a whisper.

“Aaron?” This time was a bit louder, gaining your voice back.

“Aaron!” A shout this time as you could see his eyes scanning the crowd for you.

His gaze snapped to you as you ran towards him, looking him over to ensure that he is unharmed before you launch yourself into his arms. He lifted you fully and allowed you to wrap your legs around his waist, he could feel your tears soaking the collar of his shirt. He gently shushed you assuring you that he was okay and that everyone was safe.

“T-the b-body bag, I-I thought it. I thought it was you, Aaron.”

“It was Katiya, she was trying to detonate it when we found her, we had just enough time to get to some sort of vault, but when it went off, the debris trapped us in. Honey, I am so sorry I scared you. I’m alright though, not even a scratch.” Aaron brushed his hand over the back of your head as you brought your feet back to the ground.

He looked into your eyes, he could tell that your brain was trying to process everything, all the emotions you had just been feeling, along with the relief you must be feeling now. He couldn’t help himself when he leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that said I was terrified of losing you but we’re safe and here together now. As he pulled away, you rested your foreheads against one another’s.

You knew that there would be tons of questions from the team but honestly in this moment you couldn’t care less because Aaron was safe and back in your arms. This moment that you were sharing allowed a few things to become clear for you and Aaron. You knew that he was the one for you, nobody else, and you were sure you wouldn’t survive losing him. He came to realize that it was time for him to pull that ring from the back of his sock drawer and finally ask you for forever, he thought that maybe it was time for him to step back and take that promotion Strauss had continuously offered. All he knew was that he couldn’t risk what you two had. Without you…he couldn’t even finish the thought because that wasn’t even an option.

[sunshine-theseus]

Bia | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

Words: 2.8k Summary: you create your own boots and meet the most beautiful girl  - sorry I also used this to info dump about the necessity for boots designed specifically for women to lower injury risks Warnings: none i think. lemme know if there are any requested by - @hottiedogs375 i hope you enjoy, it's probably not my best :( definitely not as good as pequeña i think

My family was more of a cricket family than a football one. I wasn’t really fond of either, the shouting was always too much, and the food was somehow sloppy yet rock hard at the same time. Even when we watched at home. The living room would be full of sweaty angry men, sometimes my mum and sister would join if our team was actually doing well. Meanwhile you’d find me in my room at the very back corner of the attic, my room, with headphones on to block out the noise, usually designing something.

Despite the cricket background, I found myself intrigued by the design of women’s football kits. In my design and technology class in year 13, I fell down a research rabbit hole on football boots for women. It was then I discovered the lack of adaptation for the shoe. Women often just wear smaller sizes of boots designed for men, which has been one of the factors in the increase in injuries in the women’s game and I’d decided I wanted to fix that.

That’s how I found myself in front of a crowd, made up of possible brand ambassadors and sponsors, as well as a range of women’s athletes from across the world, pitching my idea.

“And that’s why brands like Bia are important to the growth of women’s football. The shape of the boot, the length of studs, the sole support, they’re all contributing factors to how players perform. When women footballers use the men’s boots, which is basically the only option, they aren’t going to grow used to the details designed for male anatomy. It’s causing stress on not only their feet but every ligament, every bone, every piece of them is suffering because they have to try and adapt to things they can’t possibly adapt to.” I felt like the closing of my speech was rather strong, especially as I watched players and possible sponsors stand to clap. The noise echoes throughout the auditorium and a happiness bubbles within me.

“Thank you for providing me this opportunity. Please, if anyone has any questions.” I gesture to the stand-up microphone in the middle aisle, and people rush to line up.

“What made you intent on creating a boot specifically for women, risking money and time on something people have tried to do before? Something you knew wasn’t guaranteed to work?”

“I know it’s funny, but my family was not a football one, so I didn’t grow up knowing much about the game. But in my a-levels design and technology class, we had to research an issue prevalent in an existing design, and I for some reason was just drawn to the idea that women don’t even get the choice of having a boot made for them. I found it unfair and uncaring. Everyone expects women to play at the same level as men yet won’t provide them with the necessary equipment to do so without them having to risk, quite possibly their career. And I couldn’t just move on after the class, I knew that I had to do something about it. So I’ve spent the past 3 years perfecting the design and building the brand, to be here in front of you all today.” Another round of applause is heard throughout the room before the next person steps up.

She’s a footballer, that I know. Young, no older than 21, my age. And very very pretty.

“This question probably isn’t quite as important as that one but, what made you pick the name Bia? It just seems like an interesting name.” people chuckle at the question, and the (newly discovered) Australian shyly looks around.

“No, I love this question. Bia is the Greek goddess of force and raw energy. She’s actually Nike’s sister, the goddess of victory and very obviously the brand. I think Bia resembles a lot of things within female athletes. They have this driving force and unbelieve power that they bring, and it just felt so right.”

“That’s sick. Can I also quickly ask, sorry, are these boots made for every female athlete? Like can someone in track and field use these or are they just for footballers?” the girl smiles brightly after her question, and I have to remember not to lose focus.

“While the primary focus is obviously footballers, I have researched the compatibility of boots between sports and yes, a professional sprinter like Sharika Jackson can use them just as well as you or Alexia Putellas could. And of course as the brand grows we’ll be able to develop even further and broaden our research further in creating boots fit for anyone.”

-

Questions carry on for a while, then I disappear behind the curtain that’s suspended behind me, rushing to remove my microphone. Eventually I slide out the side door and reach the separate room booked for ‘mingling’ after the panel.

Between talking to rich people desperate to make it seem like they care about others, and athletes who are very eager to know everything they can about the shoe, I try to keep an eye out for the nameless Australian. Every time I think I’ve spotted her; it seems she disappears. Bodies keep moving and she seems to be one of them.

Then I bump into someone. We both go stumbling but she catches me just before I head for the floor.

“I am so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” And there she was, the girl I’d been looking for.

“No, no need to apologise. I’m Y/n.” I give her a hand to shake.

“Kyra.” There’s a pause before she continues.

“I’m a big fan of your boot. It’s truly incredible.” It’s hard not to blush and sputter out random sounds at her praise.

“Thank you. I’m really hoping this function works out.”

“Well I was thinking, when it does, if you need ‘a face of Bia’…”

“Oh my god yes that would be amazing. Seriously you have no idea how cool that would be.”

We talk for quite some time, and she sticks by my side when someone else comes to talk and ask question. When it’s time to go home we exchange numbers and that’s the first and last time I see her for a while.

-

5 months later is the next time I see Kyra in person. We’d both been travelling a lot, me for sponsors, ambassadors, and athletes, her for work. I’d expected to meet with her a few more times before we kick started the ‘face of Bia’ photoshoots, but as the fates had it, we found ourselves in a large warehouse, photo equipment, and many boxes of my shoes filling the space.

It suddenly all started to feel very real, and that made me nervous. So I packed myself into a small room in the corner as I tried to calm down, hoping the isolation and quiet would help me feel better.

Not even 2 minutes in, someone is following and taking a seat next to me.

“You right?” the voice is familiar and smooth.

“Yeah, yeah of course I am. It’s not like the biggest thing I’ve ever worked for in my life is basically in its final stage of release in the next room and I’m freaking out about it. What if they aren’t actually good? What if th-”

“I’m going to stop you right there. You sent me a pair 2 months ago, and I told you I would test them before saying anything, and I did just that. I took them to training. Ran on the pitch, walked, kicked the ball, passed, made risky moves. And what did I tell you after that?”

“‘These are the best fucking shoes ever.’ But what if they aren’t?”

“Listen Y/n, how many other athletes, not just me or footballers, did you send a pair to for testing?”

“Like 43. Basically every one that came to the panel plus some more.”

“How many told you they were good?”

“43.”

“Exactly. So we’re going to go out there together, you’re gonna tell the photographer what you want to see, every opinion, every change, anything, and we’re going to finalise your fucking dream.” Kyra picks me up without me even agreeing, and basically carries me out to the set up.

Ali Kreiger, despite her recent retirement, was currently being photographed. She’d been the one to reach out to me when she heard from, someone, and wanted to be an ambassador. I probably screamed so loud my neighbours thought I was getting murdered that day.

“They’re going to want a couple photos of you too probably. Either with the shoes or with one or all of us. Okay?” Kyra rubs a hand up and down my back as I take it all in.

I nod vigorously and try to shake my hands to get rid of the remaining nerves, eventually taking a seat next to the photographer, Eve. She asks for my input on every shot and manages to carry out my vision without fail every single time. As players filter in and out, I begin to truly relax and allow myself to take in the moment.

Zimmorlei Farquharson and Poppy Boltz, two AFLW players for the Brisbane Lions, were being photographed together when Kyra slid into the spare chair next to me. She didn’t say anything but when I looked over, I had to quickly look away again. Her outfit wasn’t something out of the ordinary, a loose cropped top and bike shorts, plus the sage green boots she was promoting. But the strip of skin that was exposed between her shirt and shorts was enticing and it was hard not to stare at the way her muscles contracted every time she moved in the seat.

I’m certain she caught me staring.

As she stands to take over the Australian Football players, Kyra leans over and whispers in my ear. It takes me a moment to process her words and by then she’s already under the lights.

“Good thing we’re taking some pictures. They’ll last longer.” To say I was stumped was a rather big understatement. Was she flirting with me?

I don’t get to think about it too much, Kyra looking my way every time she changed position or began to play around with the ball provided.

Not long after, I’m asked to join all the girls in front of the camera for a few shots. I knew it was coming but my heart still dropped into my stomach, and I choked on my breath. As expected, it’s Kyra who grabs my hand and instructs me to breathe slowly. Her thumb runs over the back of my hand and the motion begins to sooth me.

I take a place in front of the camera and the group of athletes. I’m not quite sure how to stand, but Kyra takes the space behind me, resting an arm over my shoulder and the other around my waist. It forces me to lean back naturally and as the girls around us take a stance, Eve continues to shoot.

“You and Kyra have a lot of chemistry by the looks of it, and she’s who you’re most comfortable with. Use that. Make it natural. The girls around you will adapt.” I expect the comment from Eve, but it’s Ali who puts a hand on my shoulder and reassures me.

With that instruction, and a nod from Eve, Kyra jumps on my back. It’s a pose that helps with showing off the boot and making me laugh. She then jumps off and takes my hands, turning me to face her as she dips. I rush to catch her as she falls, our faces a hair width apart.

Before I can think, I close the gap. My lips press hard against her’s as the camera shutter repeatedly goes off, but I don’t think anything of it. Until I pull away.

I almost drop her once my thoughts catch up to me.

“I am so sorry. What the fuck did I just do?” the rest of the girls had already walked away, so it was just us.

“Nothing you should regret or feel bad for.” Kyra stands right in front of me, our lips basically touching again.

“And maybe you should do it again.” I pause for a moment before leaning back down, kissing her again.

~~~~~

It takes three more weeks for the official brand release. After years of designing, making, spending every cent I had on these boots, Bia was officially the first woman specific sports boot.

Kyra’s first Arsenal game wearing them was the day of the release. She ended up talking about them in post-match interview after being asked “how were you excelling so well in the midfield today?” Not only was Bia’s sale numbers skyrocketing and the media account blowing up, so was my own.

I’d of course attended the match, excited to see them as an officially released boot. Someone had spotted me in the crowd and tweeted about it, talking about ‘the creator of that new boot brand is watching Kyra rep them for the first time live’. Someone else had caught me hugging Kyra on the pitch after the game and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

The rumours could only be expected. They also couldn’t be denied. Not without lying.

“I’m so proud of you.” The smooth Australian accent almost lulls me to sleep as we rest in Kyra’s bed, the sheets hiding our bare skin.

Her fingers trace shapes on my hip as she holds me, and I kiss along her collar bones and neck.

“And also very, very grateful for your genius brain creating those boots. Not only for helping my game play, but for bringing you to me.”

“I’m also grateful for my genius brain bringing us together.” I tease before softly kissing her.

It’d been impossible to escape her charm after our kiss at the photoshoot, so naturally we went on a date. And another, before she asked me to be her girlfriend. Eve sent me those photos just in case we wanted them in the brand release post. They currently sat in my hard drive, but it was very tempting to post a couple.

Kyra wanted a moment of privacy before the world knew, but I knew it didn’t matter whether it was out or a secret, as long as I had her.

-

A new power couple is on the rise in the world of Women’s Football. Creator of new women’s sports boots brand Bia, Y/n L/n, spotted with girlfriend, Arsenal and Matildas midfielder Kyra Cooney-Cross at a café in North London this morning before the London Derby. The couple confirmed their relationship mere days ago with photos of the lovebirds kissing from L/n’s brand shoot.

I laugh at the article as Kyra pulls into the Emirates parking, hand in mine. I’d become rather acquainted with her teammates and they begged me to come to the London Derby on the weekend. I couldn’t refuse when my girlfriend pulled out the puppy dog eyes and promised to ban me from any sort of affection, specifically kisses, for the week.

“You better win. I have a bet going with Niamh that you’ll beat her and I cannot lose a bet against her again.” Kyra chuckles and leaves with a kiss, sending me into the friends and family section of the stands.

It was nerve wracking going alone, but it was for Kyra and that was all I cared about. Supporting her like she supported me.

-

Kyra doesn’t start, which had been expected. Despite it, the girls were playing well and were up 3-1 at half-time. No yellow cards for either team had most people shocked though. The derby was known to be rough and physical, yet it seemed things were rather calm for the situation at hand.

There’s a substitute at half-time that puts Kyra back on the pitch. I blow a kiss when she looks my way as she jogs out and she pretends to catch it and place it on her cheek. Both of us are unaware of the interaction being caught on the big screen while people wait for the countdown.

It’s when extra time is announced that everyone in the stadium knows Arsenal have won the game. The Chelsea players look tired and defeated and the Arsenal girls don’t look much different, apart from the massive smiles that grace each one of their faces. The final whistle blows, and the crowd erupts in deafening cheers for the gunners, and I can’t help joining in.

After congratulating the blues on their performance and huddling with her own teammates, Kyra comes running for me. The guard on the other side of the barrier grows wary when I stand, clearly about to jump it, but Kyra gives him the okay and grabs me by the waist, helping me join her on the pitch.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” I whisper as she stands on her tippy toes.

Her arms wrap tightly around my neck and mine go around her waist as she pulls me in for a kiss. It’s deep and passionate and the crowd around us cheers, some of the girls joining in.

“We’re both kinda killing it aren’t we?” I let out a laugh as she hops on my back, pointing me in the direction of her Matilda’s teammates, even Sam, who are grouped in the middle of the field.

She sprinkles kisses around my face as they talk between each other and I’ve never felt more content.

Fuck cricket, football is the sport for me.

[trappednyourheart]

A family visit

Alfred has been granted (Force) by the bats a week off, and whatever way would he do in a week?, visit his Father of course!

Alfred didn't really have a word into this, he only just been given (forced) a week off, he reason with the family ( it always works) but to his surprised! None of it came through there heads! ( Somehow they got lucky from Alfred's reasonable scolding)

What about the manor? Who would care of it? Who would assist? What will happen if-

How many times he reason and tried to budge it in there minds, none of it work?

Alfred is in horror, so the only thing he can only do is accept, remind them what's not do and do, (every single details) or atleast the common things to do, which he thinks they can handle it- if not, if he sees the house in shambles or in the news, he can now have a reason to not always take a weeks off.

In Alfred's room, he was packing some pairs of clothes, a coat, a medical kit, pairs of shoes, a book, his dark shawl that is covered with a lots of constellation's from his papa's gifts, (he always take good care of it when he left on his own, he couldn't leave his shawl even in the time of his work,) and whatever he needs.

He decided to visit and have his week's off to his papa's, it's been quite a long time ( maybe 60 years or so-)

It's not like he was an absent son, he was just busy, he would occasionally send letters or his baked cookie's ( he's own recipe but still came from papa's original treats).

The Batfam does know Alfred had a dad who's still alive?( Which the kids would joke about how his dad is immortal) outside his life here in Gotham as the only staff in the Wayne manor.

While they were chilling in the living room, they could see Alfred heading towards the door, before he stop and took out a letter, and as he did a ring in the bell could be heard, Alfred open the door, and greeted..

The mailman? ( A very hardworking ghost mailman, just saying “Jolly ho!- how may I help send! Deliver, or even package international!” which Alfred replying “International please, for in this ### #### ## address, I need it quickly delivered through his doorsteps” then the Mailman just nodded, Alfred payed him and he just disappeared)

And Alfred sighs in relief and went to get his luggage, and bid the Batfam goodbye without even explaining what was happening (Bruce dropped his newspaper)

They might had ideas Alfred wasn't human or normal, but after that bombshell, they just can't stop the urge to find out ( like the usual thing the Batfam does, but only minimal like just knowing where he went and they wanted to have Alfred privacy)

Alfred was on his way to his papa's home very much missing the feeling of home in Britain now it's been quite a long time almost but he's getting second thoughts, what would his papa think?

( and yes, hes dad was wealthy, and through family too, He lived in a manor too,

which was a very old money manor, cause Danny? he's literally the ghost king)

Alfred decided he got this, so he took a step and took a deep breath In the front door of the home he loved and cared for in his childhood, knocking three times and the only thing he imagined is that his papa would give him a big warm hug like old times when Alfred would visit once a while before he truly left home.

The bats were in disguise, well partially disguise, the british neighbors nearby can see them looking at them like there were weird (stalking is not a healthy way...sometimes) And how can they even see them?! There literally in a camouflage!!

They saw how Alfred took a step, and knock three times...the door open and there they saw- a kid? Wait what? The black haired and blue teenager might be 16 who looks like could be adoption bait look surprised and happy and he give Alfred a hug, and Alfie just return the gesture, they were having a conversation, they couldn't here it because they were out of range and no hearing gadgets ( damn it Bruce)

Then Alfred and the teen went back to the house, and the door could only shut blocking there view of Alfred and the teen.

[spnhunter4life]

Not So Bad

Summary: Bad information on a hunt leads to a tense situation that ends in confessed feelings.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

Masterlist

I sighed as I flipped through the pages of the dusty old book I’d picked up out of a mix of nerves and boredom. The Winchester boys and I were in New York of all places. I hated it here. The constant loud noise of the bustling city, the air that was so far from the fresh country air I’d grown used to at the bunker, and, worst of all, the tall buildings that blocked out the sky mixing with the thick crowds of people made me feel severely claustrophobic. 

But there was a monster here that needed to be killed, and the Winchesters always went where they were needed. And wherever they went, I went. So here I was, sitting in the library while the brothers went off to kill the thing. It was some sort of demi god named Daemon. 

I’d never been much of one for fighting. I preferred to be the designated researcher, helping out in a mental capacity instead of physical. Both brothers insisted I at least learn basic self defense and worked with me on occasion, wanting me to be able to defend myself if the worst were to happen, but they never pushed me to come face down monsters with them.

The book I was currently looking through was one of the three I’d been able to find in this library about Daemon. I’d already found the information I was looking for and reported it to the Winchesters. But now my options were to sit here and wait for the hunt to be over so the boys could come pick me up, or make my way back to the motel on my own, and I was perfectly comfortable where I was. Or at least, comfortable enough that it wasn’t worth braving the crowded streets.

I turned another page, skimming the words quickly, barely absorbing what I was reading. Somewhere in the back of my mind I made the distant realization that I was in a library and could go find a more interesting book to pass the time. I didn’t give the idea much thought, knowing that it would be difficult to lose myself in a book when my boys were in danger. I knew how long they’d been living this life and how capable they were, but that didn’t make it any less scary anytime they took off. I knew every time could be the last, and I didn’t take that for granted. 

I was about to close the book and at least find something to occupy myself that wasn’t a detailed explanation of the very thing the boys were facing down, when the sentence I’d just read actually registered in my mind. With a sharp inhale, my eyes darted back to the beginning of the paragraph.

It is a common misconception that Daemon is susceptible to oak stakes dipped in lamb’s blood – a rumor no doubt started by the mischievous deity himself – which is actually quite harmless to him. What most do not know is that Daemon is not a demigod at all, but the offspring of a demon and a faerie. As such, his one and only weakness is a silver blade dipped in holy water.

The blood drained from my face. I’d given the boys the wrong information and now they were off to face an angry demigod – or faerie demon hybrid, apparently – with weapons that may as well have been toothpicks for all the use they would be. 

How could I have been stupid enough to not double check the information? I should know better than that!

I didn’t have time to wonder if maybe this bit of information was the incorrect one. Something in my gut told me it was right, and even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t risk letting them go to their deaths, thinking they had the upper hand. I pulled my phone out and immediately dialed Sam’s number. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. Cursing quietly to myself, I tried Dean instead. Voicemail again.

Fear for my boys overrode everything else. They were all I had left in the world and I absolutely could not lose them. I couldn’t live without my sweet, steady Sam. He was an invaluable source of knowledge on all topics imaginable and he had a calm, comforting disposition that seemed to instantly ease everyone in his vicinity. His sense of humor may not have been as pronounced as Dean’s, but I appreciated it just the same and wondered what would happen if I never got to hear his laugh or see his smile again. 

And Dean. I couldn’t even let myself think what all I would be losing if he was gone. To an outsider, our relationship looked perfectly polite and comfortable. And it was, I suppose – we always got along well and never had a bad word to say to each other – if not a little strained. Although, that may have been just on my end. He never did seem to feel the tension that I did. I couldn’t blame him for not noticing either. After all, I did everything I could to keep him from knowing just how much I cared for him. Just how much I loved him.

Without stopping to think about it, I quickly exited the library and rushed out into the crowded streets I so despised. I ran in the direction of Daemon’s lair – we had known its location since early in the investigation and had only been working on the details of how to kill him – roughly shoving through crowds of people when necessary. 

I was severely winded by the time I reached the abandoned building that Daemon resided in. I was panting in short breaths that seemed to fill my lungs with fire. I didn’t have time to stop though. I spotted the Impala parked in the alley and fumbled a key out of my pocket. I threw the trunk open, grabbed a silver knife and poured a generous helping of holy water over it. I barely remembered to slam the trunk shut before rushing inside. 

I slowed down once I was inside. The building was large and I had no idea where any of the current occupants might be. I was just peeking around an open door, knife held at the ready, when a huge crash followed by a yell of pain sounded off to my right. My heart stopped. That was Dean. 

Please let him be ok. Please let him be ok. And Sam too. Let them both be ok, I pleaded to any god who would listen.

I crept as quickly and quietly towards the sound of distress as I could, sounds of a fight leading me there. Fear like I’d never felt before ran like ice through my veins, but kept me moving forward. I rounded a corner and felt my heart stop again before picking up a racing rhythm at what I saw. Sam was sprawled on the ground. He’s only unconscious, I told myself. The alternative was unacceptable. Across the room was Dean, pinned to a wall by Daemon, straining to break the hybrid’s grip and thrust his oak stake into its side. Daemon clearly had the upper hand and wrenched the stake away from him, throwing it behind him. I barely stopped myself from calling out Dean’s name. 

“You think you can kill me? A puny man, kill a god?” Daemon spat, the rage clear in his voice. 

I charged towards them, knife raised and ready. I was only a few steps away when Dean saw me over Daemon’s shoulder. His eyes widened in surprise before he could stop the involuntary reaction. I saw him immediately look away again, not wanting to give me away, but it was too late. Daemon had seen it. He whirled around to face me and knocked me aside without a thought. It was as easy as if he’d been swatting at an irritating fly. Dean yelled my name just as I collided with the wall. My breath, which I hadn’t even quite gotten back after my long sprint here, left me in a whoosh. 

I watched in fascination and horror as Dean took advantage of the momentary distraction to rush at Daemon. He kicked his legs out from under him before climbing on top of him, pinning him to the ground. They struggled for a few seconds before Dean was able to snatch the oak stake from where it had been discarded on the ground. 

“No, Dean! The knife!” I yelled to him. I had dropped it at some point between Daemon’s blow and hitting the wall. Dean didn’t question me, didn’t hesitate before dropping the useless weapon and searching for the knife. But it was out of his reach and it was clear he wouldn’t be able to hold Daemon down much longer. I started to struggle to my feet to grab it for him, but before I was able to, a large body ran into my line of sight, blocking my view of Dean, and stooping to pick up the knife. 

I tensed, terrified that there was some unknown second thing to deal with now, but soon realized it was only Sam. He picked up the knife and turned to his brother. Without speaking a word to each other, Dean rolled out of the way just as Sam plunged the knife down into the heart of the monster. 

Dean was red faced and breathing hard – and who could blame him after wrestling with a being with supernatural strength – but otherwise seemed alright, so I turned my attention to Sam who was closer and who I worried could have any number of injuries after being knocked unconscious. 

“Sam, are you-”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean demanded. Stunned at the hardness of his voice, I turned to look at him and realized that what I’d mistaken for exertion was actually anger. He was livid. I’d never seen him so angry, at least not with me. Why was he angry? This completely unexpected reaction left me feeling small and confused.

“What?” I asked. “What do you mean? I was just trying-” 

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” He yelled. He took a step in my direction and a grimace crossed his face as his leg seemed to struggle slightly under his weight. He grunted, the only sound he would let escape. I remembered his yell, the noise that had guided me in this direction to begin with. He was hurt. Dean, who sat stoically with teeth gritted, never letting more than a grunt escape while Sam dug bullets out of him or sewed up horrible gashes, had cried out in pain. That had scared me more than anything else tonight, the idea of how badly he must be hurt to not be able to hide it.

“Dean,” Sam started in a warning tone. He might have been about to defend me or to tell Dean to cool his temper so we could talk calmly, but I would never know. Anger flared up in me, completely overriding the confusion and uncertainty Dean’s words had caused. 

“Well you nearly were killed! So I guess it’s a good thing I’m here, isn’t it?” I shouted back. I wasn’t actually angry, I knew, just reliving the terror of the last half hour mixed with the relief of seeing them both ok and the worry at their injuries. In short, I was overwhelmed and Dean yelling at me had frayed my already shot nerves. 

“We would have been fine.” Dean deflected.

“No you wouldn’t have! When I got here Sam was on the ground, dead for all I knew, and you were hardly about to win in a battle of strength. And even if you had, your weapon was useless. You would have died!”

“You’re the one who decided you didn’t want to fight! And that’s fine, you know we’re ok with that. But you can’t just not train and then run into a fight with no idea what you’re doing!”

“Guys, maybe we should-” Sam tried again.

“No!” I yelled. I saw a look of surprised hurt in his eyes. I felt bad for snapping at him when he hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was too fired up to backtrack now. “If Dean hasn’t had enough of a fight tonight, then let’s fight! I may not be trained in hand to hand and weapons the way you are, but I assure you, I can yell at you all night long.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed and I saw the muscle jump in his jaw. 

“Sam, can you give us a minute?” He asked in a forced calm tone. 

Sam hesitated, looking back and forth between the two of us before agreeing. “Alright. But you’ve got ten minutes before I’m coming back in after you to make sure you’re not strangling each other,” he warned before leaving the room.

We glared at each other for a minute, neither of us speaking. After what felt simultaneously like an eternity and only a moment, Dean started talking again in that tone that was an attempt at being calm, but I could clearly hear the tenseness and anger underneath.

“You can’t just-”

“You said that already,” I interrupted immediately. His jaw ticked again, and I knew shouting at him when he was trying to deescalate the situation was not appreciated. He tried again in that same infuriating tone, a little more strained this time.

“Sam and I hardly need you jumping in to protect us. We know what we’re doing.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?” He yelled back, patience worn thin.

“It doesn’t matter if you know what you’re doing or not because you couldn’t have won! I was doing some more reading after you guys left and I realized I gave you the wrong weapon.”

“Then you call us! You don’t come running in after us!”

“I did call you! Neither of you picked up! I couldn’t just sit there and wait for you to die!”

“Of course you could have! Don’t you think we’d rather take our chances with bad weapons than to have you in the line of fire?”

“What would you have done Dean?” I screamed at him. “If it were you sitting around knowing that I was going after a monster with a weapon that wouldn’t kill it? What would you have done?” I felt confident this would be the end of it. After all, there was no doubt in my mind what he would have done, and he couldn’t possibly deny it.

“That’s not the same thing,” he said. He was still angry, but he said this in a quieter voice, the kind of quiet that meant I’d truly struck a nerve. 

“Why?” I asked, ready to swoop in with the metaphorical killing blow and win the argument. “Because I can’t fight, so of course I’d need you to come save me?”

“No.”

“Hypothetically saying I was as well trained as you then. Or that it was Sam. The point still stands. You would have done exactly what I did. You wouldn’t just sit back and let us die, so why would I?”

“I told you, that’s not what I meant,” he snapped. “How do you think we would feel if something happened to you? What if we couldn’t protect you and you got hurt?”

“How do you think I felt, Dean?” I stomped over to him, getting right in his face, letting him see how much I meant what I was saying. “I didn’t know if you would be alive or not when I got here.” I stopped for a breath, the intensity of the emotions I’d felt in that moment hitting me once again. “Don’t tell me I don’t understand what it would feel like. I know exactly what it feels like.”

“It’s not the same,” he said again, stubbornly.

“How is it not the same? If anything, it’s worse for me. You and Sam at least have each other. If I lose you guys, I have no one. I will not lose you. Do you understand me? If that means putting my own life on the line, I’m ok with that.” 

“I’m not!”

“Well that’s just too bad, isn’t it, because it’s my life, not yours!”

“You’re not understanding me! If you would just let me explain-”

But apparently I wouldn’t. I wasn’t doing it on purpose, but I just needed him to understand what I was saying. So I cut him off in the middle of his request that I not do so.

“No, I told you that I understand perfectly. It’s you who isn’t understanding! I’ve never been more scared in my whole life than I was when I heard you yelling in pain.” In the back of my mind, I registered that Dean’s expression had turned from anger to determination. But my brain didn’t seem to fully process this fact, not that I would have known what to do with that information even if I had. My emotions were driving me now, and there was no stopping the words pouring from my mouth.

“I thought that whatever happened, it must be really bad. And maybe I was too late to save you. And it’s my own stupid fault you needed saving in the first place. How could I-”

This time, Dean cut me off. It was only fair, after all I’d done the same to him. This was a much nicer, much more pleasant, much more unexpected way of interrupting though. He leaned down, crashing his lips against mine. As my body seemed to be running on instinct and adrenaline right now, I responded immediately, wrapping my arms around his neck, meeting his demanding kiss with enthusiasm. 

I ran one of my hands through his hair, enjoying the feel of the soft strands between my fingers. My other hand ran down over his shoulder, to his bicep, then over to his chest, loving the strength I could feel in all those hard earned muscles. His hands were wandering too, in my hair one second, traveling over my back the next, and then on my waist.

My brain, which seemed to have shut down for the past few moments – minutes? – decided to start working again, practically screaming at me that this was Dean I was kissing. Dean, apparently experiencing the same returning brain function as me, pulled away. He took a careful step back, creating some space between us. That was probably good. I couldn’t think with him so close. Not after that. His cheeks were flushed red for a whole new reason now and his hair was sticking up in an annoyingly attractive way. I could see by the surprise in his eyes that he hadn’t been planning on the kiss being that intense. 

“It’s not the same,” he repeated, his voice as calm as if we were having a normal conversation on any old day. As if we hadn’t been arguing minutes before. As if he hadn’t just given me the most mind numbing, spine tingling kiss of my life. “Because I love you. And I know that that probably wasn’t the best way to go about telling you, but I need you to understand what it would mean to me to lose you. If you lost me, you’d lose a friend. It would suck, but you would move on. But you’re more than that to me, and I don’t know how I could survive losing you.”

“Have you not paid attention to a thing I said?” I asked him, taking a step forward to eliminate the space he’d put between us. “I told you, if I lost you and Sam I would have nothing.”

“Yeah, but that’s not really true. You could make more friends easily enough.”

“But you’re not just my friends. Sam is my best friend, true, but I love him like he’s my brother. Losing him would hurt me just as bad as losing an actual brother. And you… I couldn’t move on from you any easier than you could move on from me. I love you too.”

“Yeah,” Dean winced. “Like a brother. I know.”

“Not like a brother,” I said, wrinkling my nose a little. “Do you really think I would kiss you like that, or at all for that matter, if that’s how I thought of you?”

“I would hope not,” he agreed. 

“So, basically, you’ve been yelling at me this whole time about not understanding you when, in reality, I understand perfectly, just like I said from the beginning.” I couldn’t help but gloat a little at being right.

The corner of Dean’s mouth twitched slightly in a repressed smile. 

“You know, I think you owe me for scaring me nearly to death earlier,” he said happily.

“I owe you?” 

“Yes. When you came running in here I swear my heart stopped. And then I had to watch you get thrown across the room…” He winced at the memory and I could tell how upset it made him, but he quickly shook it off and kept up his cheerful tone. “I think you took at least three years off my life. Lucky for you I’ll take payment in kisses. One for every year less I’ll live thanks to you.”

Part of me wanted to argue, but the other part was too giddy to even care. 

“Alright,” I agreed easily. I stretched up onto my tiptoes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth. I wanted to continue the intense kiss from earlier, but there would be time for that later. This seemed like the appropriate response to his gentle, teasing tone. “There’s one.”

I kissed him again, and then once more, feeling like I could burst with joy the whole time. 

“There,” I said after the third kiss. “Does that make us even?”

“For now,” he smiled. “I have a feeling I’ll be finding lots of excuses for more in the future.”

“How’s this for an excuse? I think you took at least five years off my life. I’ll be needing some compensation here as well.”

He grinned. “And I fully intend to pay up. Once we’re home though. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”

I was a little disappointed to have to be done kissing him. But I knew he was right. We should get out of here. I knew he was in pain, and I still didn’t know how Sam was doing. Besides, it was only a temporary stop. Once we were home I would have as much time with him as I wanted.

Home. Just the mention of it made me long for it even more. But even though I couldn’t wait to be back, even though I’d spent the whole time here waiting for the moment we could leave, the past few minutes with Dean had made the whole thing worth it. 

Maybe New York wasn’t so bad after all.

Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

[nina-ya]

Hey! It's my birthday and I was wondering if you write for Shanks? If you do, could you do a Ways That Law Wordlessly Says "I Love You"? thanks

Ways That Shanks Wordlessly Says "I Love You"

A/N: HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO YOU NONNIE <3<3 I hope your birthday went well!! Luffy Zoro Sanji Law Kid Shanks Pairing: Shanks x reader CW: None. WC: 1.4k

Shanks had a talent for picking up on the smallest of details, especially when it came to you. He always seemed to know what you wanted, even before you had a chance to verbalize it. It was one of the many things that made being with him so special– his ability to read you like an open book.

One day, you two would be wandering through a market on a smaller island. The stalls are filled with various goods and trinkets, each one tempting you in their own way. You walked besides Shanks, taking in the atmosphere of the market. 

As you passed a stall filled with jewelry, a particular piece caught your eye. The craftsmanship was absolutely perfect and you just couldn’t help but admire it. You did not say anything, however, and you moved on from the stall to browse the other vendors. Shanks, though, stayed behind for just a moment, seemingly engrossed in the jewelry himself. Later, the sun began to set, and the market started to close. Shanks led you two back to the ship, and as you were settling down in your cabin, he pulled out a box, handing it to you.

“Got you something,” Shanks said, holding the box out to you with a grin. “Thought you might like it.” You opened the box and found the very piece of jewelry that you’d been eyeing earlier. The piece glimmered against the light, painting soft reflections of the room's light against the walls. You were taken aback, surprised that Shanks had gotten the very thing that you had shown interest in. 

“Shanks, you didn’t have to–” you began, but he interrupted your thoughts with a gentle laugh. 

“I wanted to,” he replied. “I saw the way you were looking at that thing earlier, and I couldn’t resist. Besides, if you really feel bad, I can think of a few ways that you could pay me back.” He said with a playful wink at the last comment. You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, feeling lucky that you fell for someone as amazing as Shanks. He always had a way of making you feel special, spoiling you in the most thoughtful ways. You know Shanks loves you when he pays attention to all your wants and needs. - - -

It’s common for the crew to always seek out some sort of tavern when they make landfall. It’s a fun way to down booze while also getting to try the island's local cuisine. You sat at the bar, watching the red haired man on the other side of the bar as he chatted with the other crew members. He naturally stood out amongst the bunch, his voice projecting across the building. You could practically feel the charisma dripping from his words. It’s one of the reasons you fell for him. 

Shanks approached you with a grin, ordering a round of drinks for everyone. He leaned against the counter, elbows propped up casually, turning to you. “Thirsty?” he asked, his voice projecting over the noise of the tavern. 

You nodded, and he motioned for the bartender to bring some drinks over to you two. Shanks picked up the drinks and motioned for you to follow him. He led you to a table in the corner, the seats being somewhat secluded from the rest of the tavern. While the crew was busy celebrating, Shanks was more than happy to hang out with you away from the rest of them

He slid your drink over to you and tapped the two glasses with a satisfying clink that rang throughout the room. While the others in the crew were being rowdy and singing sea shanties, Shanks sat beside you, close enough that you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. He keeps you engaged in a conversation, pointing out small things around the tavern and telling you interesting places he wants to visit while you guys are visiting the island. He had a way of making everything sound exciting, even if they are the most mundane things.

He would laugh at your jokes, eyes sparkling with amusement, and he would slightly lean closer to you as the noise grew louder to make sure he did not miss a word you said. It was as if you two were in your own bubble. You know Shanks loves you when he values spending alone time with you. - - - Shanks’ lap is always the best seat in the house during all the parties you two found yourselves in. His arm seemed to always find itself wrapped firmly around you, holding you close. You held a mug of rum, sharing sips with him, because he’d much rather use his one arm to hold you and keep you securely against him. Even when he is telling stories or engaging in conversation with others, his grip never loosens and you often could feel his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

Tonight, the crew is gathered around a bonfire on the beach, the hot amber flames flickering, giving light to the celebration and filling the air with the sound of the occasional crackle and pop of the firewood. Shanks is right at home, reciting stories, full body boisterous laughter spilling from his lips. Even when his focus is not on you, you know that you are constantly lingering in his mind with the way he pulls you in just a little closer, whispering an inside joke that has you reeling over in laughter. As always you are the carrier of food and drinks, offering it to him every so often.  As the party winds down, Shanks stands, helping you to your feet, his arm still attached to you. It’s as if the world would crumble if he let go. Even as he guides you back to your shared quarters and into your bed, he still cannot seem to let go of you. There is just something about being in Shanks’ embrace that makes you feel so safe and so loved. As you drift off to sleep every night with his strong embrace cradling you to his chest, you know he will be right beside you when you wake up. You know Shanks loves you when he never lets go.

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

♡ handwriting analysis: alex turner and miles kane ♡

as promised, here is the analysis my wonderful friend (who used to work as a professional handwriting analyst) did of miles and alex's handwriting! a couple of important points to read before you dive in:

my friend analysed these blind - to avoid bias, she always makes a point of never knowing whose handwriting it is she's looking at, so she had no idea that these samples were from alex and miles while analysing them (not that it'd have made much difference if she had, she can't even name one am song lol)

she stressed that her analysis should NOT be taken as fact - it's just one person's interpretation of the material, and handwriting analysis is ultimately always subjective

the two analyses below are based on notes i took while she was talking and is pretty much verbatim - none of the wording is my own and i have changed as little as possible in typing it up

she noted that it was harder to provide a full and accurate analysis just working with photos of handwriting, as you can't see things like pressure on the page etc. she also stressed that context is significant when it comes to interpreting someone's writing, and it's important to bear in mind that how someone writes in one context, e.g. signing autographs or writing something for the general public could show quite different characteristics to how someone writes in another context, e.g. personal letters to someone they're close to. in an ideal world she'd have access to samples from a different range of contexts to provide the most detailed and accurate analysis. in other words, this analysis is quite rough

alex's handwriting:

(samples taken from roughly 2011 - 2018)

block capitals suggest this is someone who don't want to show themselves, makes it hard for people to reach them

someone interested in thoughts and ideas, would engage with these in a way that's intelligent and very original

a lot of emotional and social inconsistency, suggests someone pulled in different directions. they might show very different sides of themselves with different people and probably have complex and/or conflicted feelings about identity

very creative, someone who'd make interesting and unusual connections about the world around them

highly intuitive but also lacking harmony from an emotional perspective. lots of internal emotional conflict and changeability

someone who fluctuates a lot socially as well as emotionally - might go from being quite sociable to withdrawing completely. ultimately struggles to reach out socially and holds back a lot, but there might be certain situations or people they feel particularly at ease with where this is different

really hard to read, don't give much of themselves away

thoughtful and enquiring, interested in ideas

someone who feels things very strongly

signature:

implies someone hiding themselves or presenting as someone they're not. they want to look confident and exciting, but they're actually much less confident that they'd like to appear. lets their creative and artistic tendencies hide them and take centre stage.

miles's handwriting:

(samples taken from roughly 2022 - 2023)

a little sharp, could suggest humorous wit and/or being critical (either of self or of others)

ambitious and incisive, intelligent and enquiring mind

fearful or wary about opening up and reaching out to people, emotional inconsistency. potentially quite restrained - looks like someone used to hiding a lot of hiding of emotions

has an enquiring mind but isn't particularly interested in abstract thought, more grounded in reality and social/emotional things

someone with strong feelings, they get held in and confused. could be warm and open on a surface level, but looks like they'd be reserved about their innermost feelings

could be sharp tongued to avoid dealing with their own feelings

lower zone suggests someone who might not be completely comfortable in their own body and/or sexuality, or have a complex relationship with these things

someone with a tendency towards strong feelings and devotion/worship (could be religious, or could just be to do with the way they relate to people or ideas)

signature:

someone who wants to look more confident they feel. sense of changeability and flashes of insecurity, but ultimately suggests strength of character, not someone who's a pushover. they know what they want and what matters to them.

interesting extra notes:

the wonderful @ballad-of-what-could-have-been managed to find this sample of alex's handwriting not in capitals from when he was much younger (from what i can see, it looks like it was early fwn era):

so i showed this to my friend too (after her analysis of alex's usual writing) and noted that it was probably done when he was a lot younger. she said that all her points from the original analysis still stood, and that despite the fact this writing isn't capitalised it was actually still very hard to read and definitely someone not comfortable with showing themselves. she also said that it was more emotionally conflicted and uncertain than the later sample of their handwriting. the phrase "emotionally all over the place" was used, and she noted a greater sense of inconsistency with identity. overall though she said the earlier sample confirms that this is someone with a high level of intuition and originality, and she said they're someone she'd be fascinated to have a conversation with!

thank you for reading! if you have any questions, please feel free to comment/drop me an ask and i can always pick my friend's brain again the next time i see her!

[stormberry-12]

faceless // P2: show my face? ~ charles leclerc x reader

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader

includes/authors notes: language, lack of equal rights/ gender equality, readers an unknown figure in the races, fem!reader's gender assumed as male, use of "y/n".

Bold Italics are the past.

Normal Italics are thoughts.

summary: "There is a new mysterious driver on the grid. Nobody knows who he is, the only thing we know is that he races for Red Bull with the number 66. Other drivers call him the faceless driver for none have ever seen his face or heard him speak. The faceless driver is a legend in the making and even giving Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen a run for their money…”

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

Charles had never been a good cook. Bless his sweet soul, he tried so hard but nothing ever turned out. As the pancakes sizzled on the pan, he knew he was about to burst into tears if one more of the damn things started burning. Light footsteps drew his attention from the food and he looked up to see your sleepy face walk down the stairs.

"No!" he gasped, "Go back to bed-"

"Charlie..." he watched you yawn and shuffle towards him, it was clear you were not a morning person. Wrapping your arms around his body and nuzzling into his frame, he swore he felt his heart flutter. "Hi," you whispered.

"Hi," Charles chuckled placing a kiss on your head, arms wrapped around you as well. "Happy Valentine's Day..."

You looked up at him in confusion and he looked back with a small smile on his face. 

"Oh my god..." you chuckled, with everything that had been going on you had completely forgotten what day it was. "Happy Valentine's Day Charles,"

 He grinned and hugged you tighter burring his face in your neck. Admiring the warmth, scent, and long soft stands of hair that brushed his face.

"What's that smell?" you sniffed slightly, scrunching your nose.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, cursing at himself for completely forgetting about his pancakes. You looked over to the stovetop, where Charles was frantically trying to remove the burnt food from the pan.

God, this is embarrassing-, he thought, dumping loads of syrup on the pancakes, trying to remove the charred taste. He placed the pancakes in front of you motioning for you to try it.

Your eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and adoration washing over your face. You sat down and reached out to pull the dish towards you. Gaze shifting from the very burnt pancakes to his hopeful expression.

"I can't believe you did all of this," you said, voice filled with genuine warmth. "Thank you, Charles..."

"Oh, it's nothing. Honestly, because it's going to taste like shit-"

Your laugh rang through the air and Charles couldn't help but admire every little detail about you—the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled, the gentle curve of your lips, and the way your laughter filled the room with warmth. Every moment spent with you felt like a dream come true, and Charles had to remind himself that this incredible person had chosen to be with him.

You stabbed a pancake with your fork and brought it to your mouth, Charles tried not to laugh at the look on your face. Trying to mask the disgust with a smile and swallowing the food slowly.

"It's uhh, really good!" you choked.

"Love, I can tell when you're lying." he laughed. He noticed your face falter slightly, your smile was not as prominent and your eyes clouded over suddenly, just like they had the night before on the way home from the race. Trying to reassure you he said, "Don't worry about it, I was just joking-"

Your face shifted once more, "No, I know, thank you Charlie this was very sweet!"

He took the fork from you, finishing off the pancake you had started, "Ooo, it's crunchy,"

This had you giggling uncontrollably, Charles's eyes lighting up at the sight of you. During clean up he made a point of throwing out his charred meal by seeing how many baskets in a row he could make as the pancakes fell into the trash can. He then hummed a happy tune as the two of you did dishes, it made you happy that he was happy.

Charles was very excited about this weekend and he wouldn't stop talking about it, qualifying was tomorrow and his team had made some upgrades to the car that both Ferrari drivers were ecstatic about. The promise of better results had Charles dreaming of coming out victorious ahead of the faceless driver.

"Look, I have a huge favor to ask you," Charles spoke trying to word his request in the best way possible, "So I know you don't love the media-"

"Mhmm."

"But just hear me out, love," Charles pleaded, watching you sort the forks from the knives in the cutlery drawer.

"No."

"Come onnnn," He hugged you from behind causing you to sigh.

"No." You said again.

"I'm going to talk about it anyway," Charles sighed, he looked down and played with the bracelets wrapped around his wrists. "My PR manager wants me to take you on a hot lap, it'll be so fun, you won't even know the cameras are there!"

"A hot lap?" you turned around in his arms to face him, his light eyes locked on yours making your chest flutter.

"Yeah, you know, like when Hamilton takes all his British actor friends around the track, they're on YouTube-"

"Yeah, I know I just... don't know," you sighed at the wording.

"Pleaseee?" he was practically begging, "For me? Oh! I know, for Valentine's Day because I know you forgot."

Well, shit. you thought. He had got you there.

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

"This helmet hurts my head," you complained. Charles ignored the complaining and smirked at you, doing up his seatbelt. "It's just one lap, right?"

"Yes, love,"

"M'kay,"

This is actually good... you thought after a while. You had never driven this track before, so getting a little tour would hopefully help you on the weekend. The last race's crash was a little too close for comfort, you could still see Charles looking at you angrily after pulling you out of the car, his stare was intense as if he wanted to see your face from behind the visor. 

Christian Horner called you the day after the last race and made it clear there was going to be no risk-taking on your part moving forward. You had to follow instructions out on the track or he would have to 're-think his driver lineup'. His threat was surprising, but you didn't feel any worry, the team would be lost without you.

Re-think your lineup my ass.

"How are you not moving?!" Charles exclaimed, pulling you from your thoughts, "You're a natural!"

Shit. He had started driving and you were supposed to be jolting around in your seat because you were an 'amateur'. It was time to put your acting pants on.

"Well, my knuckles are turning white and I'm not breathing so I wouldn't say I'm a natural..." you choked out.

"Please breathe, love. And talk to me so I know you're not dead, I can't look over at you while I'm driving 300 miles an hour-"

"Right, right-" you said, trying to just have a normal conversation with your boyfriend and forget that there were cameras all over this car. "What should we talk about?"

"Something, anything, just don't stop breathing again-" He laughed. God, he was good at this; turning an awkward lull in conversation into a joke. He glanced over at you for a split second to try and read your face, "Do you hate this?!" Charles asked, talking very loudly over the engine of the car,  "I can't tell,"

"I don't hate it. I just don't like it at all and it's terrible," you replied calmly, trying to play the part of terrified girlfriend. The grandstands that would usually be filled with thousands of people were empty and dark, they flew past you in a blur as the car sped up on the straight section of track.

The car drifted suddenly, causing you to grip the seat and brace yourself, "CHARLES-"

Charles laughed again, but it wasn't the fake laugh he put on for the camera. It was his real laugh, the stupid giggly French laugh that he only did when you were alone in your apartment. This made you laugh too because he sounded like a little girl.

"You broke too late into that corner love," you teased him without thinking.

"...What?" 

"Uhm..." you chuckled awkwardly and he fully turned his head studying you curiously. You just shrugged.

"Your right. I have no idea how you knew that, you surprise me every day Y/n L/n..."

"I don't know either, you're welcome though,"

Charles rolled his eyes and smirked, "Did you like the breakfast I made for you this morning?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was amazing," you lied and you could see the look on his face as he grinned because you both knew it was far from perfect. "I like waking up to the smell of bacon, " you laughed.

"Wish I had enough time in the morning, I would make it for you every day," he smiled.

"Me too, I make it work though-"

"What?"

"The smell of the bacon,"

"How?" 

"Well, you're gone a lot and since I don't have a butler, I do it myself. Most nights before I go to bed, I will lay six strips of bacon out on my George Foreman Grill. Then I go to sleep. When I wake up, I plug in the grill, I go back to sleep again. Then I wake up to the smell of crackling bacon."

Charles cackled, almost hitting his head on the steering wheel. "I need to try this,"

"I can do eggs too, they just don't smell as good," You grinned.

"That's why I always slip on my way to the shower-" Charles wheezed with his thick accent.

"Yup. I do it in the bathroom because I don't want to get the grease all over the carpet-"

"Y/n, love, you're killing me-" 

"Don't die on me Charlie, you said it yourself we are going 300 miles an hour,"

You and Charles were laughing so hard it was bringing tears to your eyes, and before you knew it the "hot lap" was over and you were exiting the car.

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

The next morning, you and Charles got up at the break of dawn and drove to the track. He pulled his car into a stall and kissed you farewell, darting off to the red Ferrari garage. You headed over to a common area in the Paddock, where you usually pulled out your laptop and pretended to be doing something important. That way, fewer people came up to talk to you and you could set up an image that you were disappearing to take work calls. However, today you had no time to set up an alibi and sprinted down the back ally of the paddock until you found a pile of your racing gear outside the back door.

You rattled the handle but the door didn't budge. 

Why were your things outside and why couldn't you get in? 

You felt a sick urge in your gut that someone was trying to set you up; but, it wasn't like you could waltz in the garage with the suit in your arms and ask the pit crew who locked you out.

This lovely alleyway would have to do. You slipped into your fireproofs and race suit, stuffing your jeans and shirt in your backpack and the bag behind a dumpster. 

It would have to do. 

You sat on the ground and pulled out your phone, 15 minutes until qualifying started. You shot a text to Christian, saying you needed him to double-check that your door was unlocked before the race tomorrow, before opening up your social media to see that the hot lap had been posted and the video was blowing up. Some comments were about Charles that made you smile at how much his fans adored him. The majority ended up being about you and you felt your pulse quicked as you scrolled through them.

What could people possibly find so entertaining about you?

You sighed and rubbed a hand through your hair, you were breaking the internet and nobody even knew your full identity. It did surprise you however, the very small amount of hate comments that were under all of the tweets, and the amount of people that would shut down the few scattered in the mix. Random people you didn't know were defending you on the internet, it was a weird feeling.

"Holy shit-" a voice rang in your ear.

Your head snapped up, your helmet wasn't on, and Lando Norris was standing across from you with his jaw on the floor.

[lancermylove]

Owl Beast Curse (HC)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland, the Owl House

Pairing: Leona, Malleus, Riddle, Vil, Kalim, Azul with gn!Reader

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Can you do twst dorm leaders(except Idia) with a gn s/o who has the owl beast curse? How they react the side effects(easily detachable limbs) and their sister is the one who cause it

A/N: Thank you for including the link to the wiki! Hope you like it.

———————————————

Ah, siblings. He hates them. Leona is not surprised that your sister cursed you, as he knows family does more harm than good. He is pissed off at your sister, to say the least, and doesn't care what excuse your sister has to curse you. Her actions are unforgivable.

Leona feels a twinge of sympathy for you, especially since you didn't deserve what your sibling did. But he doesn't show you pity, nor does he feel sorry for you because, in his eyes, you are strong. To be able to handle a curse, and that too, one inflicted by a family member, must be pain, both physically and mentally. Leona respects you more than he did before.

Leona is not a fan of you detaching your limbs to play pranks on him or who off, especially not your head. Whenever you do, he blankly stares at you.

Once he learns that the curse is triggered due to stress, he tries to help you maintain your stress, even if he doesn't show it outright.

Are you stressed because you have an overload of homework? Leona will sit next to you and practically tell you all the answers so you can finish the assignments before your stress levels get out of hand. Are your friends stressing you out? He will stand behind you and glare down at them until they shink and run away.

Once you tell Leona about the elixir, he will make sure you take it daily. The last thing he wants is for Crowley to learn about your curse. He doesn't trust the head mage, who is anything but benevolent.

Malleus never told you this, but he had detected the curse on you since he first met you. However, the prince figured he would learn about your curse eventually, so he didn't try to pry any information from you.

However, when he learns the details about your curse, Malleus feels a wide range of emotions, from concern to anger. How could your own blood curse you? He wonders if this kind of occurrence is common among humans.

When he sees your owl beast form, he remains unfazed and finds it fascinating. He is not afraid in the slightest, as Malleus knows if you try to attack him, he has the strength to hold you back.

The prince is very concerned about your ability to detach your limbs. Does it cause you pain physically? He is a bit relieved to know you are not in pain from it, but Malleus still doesn't want you to pull your limbs off, not even as a prank. The only exception is Halloween.

The prince wants to track down your sister to learn why she did this and hold her accountable for causing you pain, but first, he wants to focus on finding a way to help you. All the mages in Briar Valley are attempting to find a way to get rid of your curse and, if you sympathize with the owl beast, a way to save it as well.

Kalim will be taken aback if you tell him about your curse. However, if you don't tell him and accidentally transform into your beast form, Kalim will be shocked. Though, if anyone tries to attack you while you are in that form, he will protect you.

When he learns that your sister is responsible for cursing you, Kalim has difficulty wrapping his mind around it. Just the thought of your own family going against you is devastating to him. He has many siblings, and they all get along well, so he can't fathom there are families in which siblings can be enemies to this point.

Kalim is willing to do anything and everything to help you. You are his s/o, so he is responsible for helping and supporting you through thick and thin.

He also goes out of his way to ensure you are not stressed. If Kalim sees you stressing out, he immediately distracts you with his cuteness, hugs, kisses, or taking you on a magic carpet ride. He also enlists Jamil to help with your stress management.

When Kalim sees your limbs detach, he experiences a wave of emotions. First, shock. Second, discomfort for you, thinking you are in pain. Third, sadness. If you even remotely joke that the detachment causes you pain, it will draw tears to his eyes, as if he was filling the pain himself.

Family members can be...a pain. He understands this, but to think they would go as far as to curse you. Riddle is angered by the thought, but his concern for your well-being overshadows his anger.

He is startled and a bit fearful when he sees you in your owl beast form. Even then, he stands his ground, knowing that he has to help you through this. However, when he sees/learns about your easily detachable limbs, Riddle is creeped out. If you try to detach your limbs in front of him, he will get angry. In fact, he wants to add a rule to the book of rules saying you are not allowed to take detach your limbs.

Like Kalim, Riddle enlists the help of his dorm members when he learns stress is your main trigger. When he is not around, Cater, Ace, Trey, and Deuce are responsible for helping you calm down.

Riddle is relieved that Ace and Deuce are in the same class as you so that they can keep an eye on you to prevent any incidents from happening on campus. Riddle worries that someone on campus might try to use you as a test subject if they learn about your unique curse.

If possible, he even learns how to make the elixirs you drink so that you never run out of them.

On many occasions, Vil feels like you are hiding something from him. Then, he sees you drinking an elixir daily and knows for sure you have a secret. Part of him wants you to tell him when you are comfortable, but the other part knows he needs to know, especially if it could pose a danger to him and the other students.

When he sits down and talks with you, you detach your limb to show him the side effects. Vil immediately grosses you and gets upset with you. NEVER do that again in front of him. Even if it doesn't physically pain you, it hurts him to see your limbs not attached to your torso.

Vil asks another question: Why didn't you tell him about the curse earlier when the two of you started dating? Were you afraid that he would judge or leave you? He assures you he will not leave or judge you for being cursed; if anything, he wants to help you find a way to lift the curse.

The moment Vil learns your sister was the one who cursed you, he sympathizes with you but is angered beyond belief. His need to seek justice kicks in, and Vil's first instinct is to track down your sister and confront her. At some point in the future, with your permission or against your will, he will find your sister and confront her.

Azul already knows you are cursed even before he sees you transform into the owl beast. Once he saw you drinking the elixir, he took a few drops from one bottle to test it. Though he couldn't find what the elixir was for, he found similar ingredients to a recipe in their world that is used to keep curses at bay.

Though he doesn't show it outright, Azul is deeply concerned about you. He doesn't confront you about your curse and waits for you to tell him or for the curse to take effect.

He is not surprised when he learns your sister is responsible for your state. He has firsthand experience in seeing the dark side of people around him. Azul focuses more on finding a cure to your curse rather than the past - for the time being.

He won't admit it out loud, but Azul finds your curse fascinating and wants to learn more about it. Even when he finds a way to separate the owl beast from you, Azul plans to keep the beast alive. Something tells him that you don't want the beast to be harmed, but more than anything, he wants to learn about the creature as there are no creatures like the owl beast in their world.

At first, Azul HATES it when you detach your limbs in front of him. Eventually, he gets used to it, especially with you and Floyd pranking everything with your detached body parts. Even if he walks into his office and finds your head on his desk, Azul will sigh, shake his head, and focus on his work.

———————————————

➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

[icedcoffee-cream]

Concupiscent * Miles Quaritch

Pairing : Recombinant Colonel Quaritch/ Gn Reader (how he fucks his s/o)

Word Count : 585

Warnings : Minors DNI, Description of sex, swearing, no spoilers for ATWOW.

I have lots to say about Recom Quaritch in bed, and when I think of sex with quaritch, I don't picture him as a soft, gentle and chary sex partner, no. I see a sharp witted recom na’vi who teases you to no end, he's rude, arduous and isn't afraid to let you know what he wants and how he wants it. And what's so frustrating about it is how easily you give in, unable to turn a blind eye to that body and sexy voice. Another thing that's so frustrating is that your partner has absolutely NO filter, and he's so smooth about it (unless obviously it's something the both you agreed to to not bring up in bed) he says the most atrocious things, explains in detail how he's going to fuck you with his large hand wrapped around your throat, and somehow it comes out perfectly suave and unstilted.

---

"Feels good doesn't it, sweetheart?" The recombinant pauses his licking to nip at your inner thigh, sharp teeth itching to sink into your soft sensitive flesh. You whine and huff loudly, your calf coming up to push his head closer to the problem at hand.

"Don't be petulant." Quaritch hisses, shoving your leg away with his shoulder. "I can leave you here to suffer on your own, y'know, all needy and valuable." He laughs almost manically at your alarmed expression.

"Don't you dare! I'd fucking kill you."

He slaps his palm against your hot pudendum, causing you to shout profanity. "I'd like to see you try.."

---

Quaritch gives oral for himself, not for you. With his new size and strength, there are endless amounts of opportunities, his tongue now longer and thicker, and arms now stronger, he forces you in the most obscure positions while he eats you out. His obnoxiously loud slurping would embarrass you if you weren't so distracted with how ethustiasclly you were rutting against his face, he sounds almost barbaric with his lewd groans and moans. He's scarily skillful and accurate, sucking on your parts just right to have you mewling and crying in ecstasy

---

While Quaritch may not have a daddy kink, he sure as hell does have an authority kink. You address him as sir and nothing more, (occasionally he'll be nice and let you call him whatever you'd like) Speaking of which, the recom has a wide variety of pet names for you, ranging from, Sweetheart, Sweetie, my Lovely (ALONE ONLY Lol), Play thing/Pet, Tiny etc.

---

Even if you both aren't quote on quote being "freaky in the sheets" that doesn't stop quaritch from being very touchy feely with you, alone or in public, he's not a huge fan of PDA but he'll always have a hand on your hip, the small of your back or just standing really close to you. Alone, he's worse, he slides his hands under your clothing and squeezes whatever he can get his hands on.

---

One word, Missionary, it's a simple and common position but that doesn't make it any less pleasurable, this position gives him total control and give you little to none, and he LOVES IT, he likes it when you keep your shirt on so he has something to grab and pull you down with. Not to mention had a perfect view of your face and throat, which means he can lean down to suck and bite as much as he pleases.

--

Thank you for the lovely request @smokeywhalee I hope you don't mind the altercations!

[wonijinjin]

seventeen members as feelings/personality traits

synopsis: the members as feelings or personality traits i associate them with

word count: 1.0k | genre: fluff | warnings: none

cheol is safety. when looking at him i instantly get the feeling of being safe if i was ever taken under his care, not any type of danger to worry about. protecting his loved ones is in his blood, the way he acts around his members and does everything in order to protect everyone from any harm both physically and mentally makes me think of the word safety when thinking about him.

hannie is cheekiness. we all know that he is a trickster and a mastermind. he has a very nurturing nature, which makes him whole with that youthful cheekiness he has. this is why it makes everyone smile and adore him when he does something playful and joins his members in joking around. his little smirk every time he outsmarts someone for fun makes me think of the word cheekiness when thinking about him.

shua is reliability. he is a very trustworthy person many others confide in, someone who gives reassurance to his members when they need it. he is very easy-going who can adapt to any situation, always providing a permanent and solid foundation to anything he is part of. being the gentle person he is, despite many burdens his selflessness always pushes forward to be someone people can count on, so i think of the word reliability when thinking about him.

jun is balance. he might not be the most talkative person you have ever seen, but he always knows what and when to say. he is playful yet serious and calm, on top of this, very self-aware. he is someone who is probably the rock and resting place of several members even though it might not seem like it at first sight for an outsider’s eyes. his very conscious sincere actions make me associate the word balance with him.

hoshi is passion. he is known for being the choreographer of many seventeen dances along with his unit, and every time he does what he loves he seems to be so passionate about it. his sharp moves and detail-oriented mind shows how seriously he takes his responsibility as a performer, and he never disappoints. his dedication to being a good artist is insane, almost like a fire which could never be taken out. he is a true hard worker, that is why the word passion describes him so well.

wonwoo is wisdom. he is more on the introverted side, but for his age I consider him to be exceptionally wise. given how much he has gone through in life it is not surprising, rather the way he deals with these experiences and grows as a person is. he is a very good listener and can easily give advice to anyone, instead of simply always trying to find a solution to everything his mindset reminds me of the word wisdom when thinking about wonwoo.

woozi is humbleness. as a producer he has done so many things he could boast about, but he never does. he seems like the very down-to-earth type of person, who knows about the amount of success he has, but is silent about it. he never forgets where he started, an ounce of disrespect towards anyone of any kind never crossing him. because of his kindness and honesty he suits the word humbleness best.

minghao is serenity. meditation is the foundation of his daily routine, he is good at keeping his emotions in place, but by no means does it equal the lack of them. his positive mindset and deep understanding of himself is a key to calmness, with which he can resolve many situations and reach his goals as planned. his mischievous side can shine in the right moments thanks to this tranquility, overall best support system when bringing up one’s spirits, so he is serenity itself in a person.

mingyu is curiosity. he is just a curious puppy, always so open to trying everything and widening his knowledge, preferably on many topics. his hobbies include a wide range of things, which shows how fascinated he can be when getting the chance to give a go to anything new and fresh. he is always part of the goofiest members and will easily say yes to doing something fun with his friends, just so curious.

dk is innocence. he is such a bright person, a true sunshine. being an empath means he feels many emotions all the time, which makes him have this child-like purity and optimism. because of these traits I think he is often mistaken by people as someone extra naive, when in reality he is excellent at reading people, again something he is able to do because of the unconditional love and zero prejudice he has, so innocence is definitely him.

seungkwan is diligence. his hard work has been permanent from the very first moments of his life, which got him to where he is currently. his efforts’ driving force is to make his loved ones proud, determination never faltering. he tirelessly works day and night, never being satisfied with his work, even though he is literally perfection itself, this kind of mentality is exactly what diligence is.

vernon is acceptance. he has said multiple times that he had faced discrimination of some kind in the past, so naturally coming from those experiences he is a very open-minded person in whom you can find a safe place no matter who you are. he always encourages everyone to be themselves, to be unique. he is one of a kind, who will always welcome everyone in his life with warmth, so i think of the word acceptance when thinking about vernon.

dino is comfort. as the members have already said before he is an old soul, who always looks out for his loved ones. he can be playful if the situation requires it, making the room brighter all the time. he is a solent lover, who makes sure that everyone gets the gentleness and kindness they deserve. his supporting words and actions couldn’t have been replaced by anything else, it just feels right when thinking about him that comfort is him.

[queers-gambit]

Hello my lovely, it’s me your babygirl. Remember me? 🥰🥰

I know you’re busy working on fics rn so take as much time as you want to answer!

I’ve got a very important question regarding Felix that I’d love your opinion on it & share my thoughts with you! 

*quickly runs to give you the biggest hug & spin you in my arms* 😘

So…. What do we think a Felix x reader wedding would look like at Saltburn? A grand extravaganza with a million guests or an intimate ceremony with just the Cattons?

Obviously they take every opportunity to throw a party at Saltburn so a wedding is the ultimate bash in the eyes of the Cattons. 

Or would Felix just decide to change it entirely and just want it to be a tiny intimate thing since he wants this to feel quiet and special. And then maybe some big party another day to the delight of Elspeth and sir James.  

For Felix he’s so laid back and in love all he cares about is his girl and what will make her happy. They are so young and in love i wouldn’t be surprised if he proposed on a lazy Sunday morning or a day reading naked in the field, just because he was so blissfully happy he knew there was nobody he’d rather spend these kind of days with for the rest of his life. 

Side notes: Venetia would be maid of honor right? I see Elspeth as the mother in law that makes herself heavenly involved with planning and gives her brutally honest opinion picking out the dress 😅 I can even picture stoic Duncan trying to hold back tears while he’s holding a tissue box to Elspeth or sir James while they read their vows. 

…

Sorry for the endless ranging but I’m aching to know your thoughts and see if you’ve thought about this too!!

of course i remember you, baby girl! welcome back!

i needed a break from writing, so thank you for sending this, my darling! it's always good to refresh the pallet, and this ask really got me thinking!

let's get into it!

kinda-sorta wedding AU HC's

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 1.4k+

warnings: suspiciously none

so your question all depends on the Reader, but i'll try to answer best i can.

the Saltburn wedding is definitely a huge, extravagant ordeal. the Cattons are well connected, so, it wouldn't just be Felix and Reader's peers attending, but ALL family from both sides, as well as family friends, too. Reader's family is invited to Saltburn a week before matrimony; where they try to help, but the Cattons have hired 3 different wedding planners to make this the most talked-about event in any social circles.

every room in Saltburn is cleaned and decorated. an abundance of flowers are shipped in to be hung from the ceilings and bannisters. there's BOTH a live band and a DJ, an erected outdoor dance floor.

now, i can see two different things: 1. Felix and Reader marry in the local church and then the reception is hosted at Saltburn. 2. they marry on Saltburn's property and still have the big ass reception on the grounds.

either way, it's most def a summer wedding to utilize optimal weather. it's a reason to wear the best clothes, drink expensive liquor excessively, and indulge in gluttony. it's a night designed to make attendants jealous.

there's well over 300 people, Sir James and Elspeth combing through their address books to send invites even to family friends they haven't spoken to in years. they're the kind of parents that take advantage of their child getting married; it's the best excuse to show off and have a grand celebration, to prove the family doesn't do anything half-assed. if they can throw extravagant parties just for the hell of it, they definitely feel pressure to out-do themselves.

it's like this wedding isn't *for* Felix and Reader, but more so for the Cattons to show up and show out. it's not about a union of two people, but an excuse to gloat and smash their privilege in everyone's face.

Felix eats it up 'cause it's all he knows, the spoilt rich boy, but Reader's a little uncomfortable with the sheer size and details of her wedding. but in the same breath, she's relaxed because she KNOWS this is just how the Cattons operate and she doesn't really have to lift a single finger.

so, Reader lets Elspeth plan her ideal wedding - 'cause there's no way she's not involved. they make some decisions together, it's a bonding experience for Reader and her soon-to-be MIL, but for the most part, it's the matriarch doing most of the heavy lifting.

Felix and Reader only get to decide on wedding colors, catering options, and the cake. and even then, they have to endure his family's opinions.

Reader doesn't even get to 100% choose her dress, hair, and make up. Elspeth basically decides everything. i agree with you and think Mrs. Catton would impose herself even on the wedding dress selection, becoming persnickety, opinionated, and a little snarky when Reader shows off her dresses. this causes tension with Reader's family, who think the older woman far too self-important, and maybe it's Reader's mother or sister that stands up to her and insists Elspeth keep quiet since this *isn't* her wedding and they don't want any influences on Reader. they want Reader to choose her perfect wedding dress without scrutiny since she has no say in anything else.

in fact, maybe - juuuuuust maybe - Reader's family takes her to shop for a wedding dress without Elspeth in an effort to dial down the stress. it's not meant maliciously, but Elspeth simply cannot help herself and takes over everything; so, Reader's family figures if she's not there, Reader can make a decision *for herself*.

when Elspeth finds out, she's hurt, but it's Sir James that calms his wife down by reminding her that she had something not-so-nice to say about damn near every single dress Reader tries on. so, she accepts this one detail being out of her control.

the entire wedding screams "old money" because half of the decorations and details are wildly redundant, but there's no such thing as cost to the family. Elspeth is def living vicariously because she thinks she knows best, so she spares no expense - perhaps even going as far as to rent exotic peacocks to roam the grounds simply because the Cattons can!

they're definitely going "Crazy Rich Asians" in the sense that Felix's marriage is going to be the event of the decade, like Collin and Araminta's wedding. again, it's not even about the union but just a chance for the Cattons to remind everyone that they were lesser-than. Felix thinks it's normal, he thinks this is how it's supposed to be 'cause he's def removed from reality, and truth be told, he loves the attention. the bragging rights.

Felix might be a bit more reserved than his family, but he's still a Catton and glamour is *all* he knows, especially for an event like this. he doesn't stand up to his parents because they're paying for everything, which makes him feels as if he's not entitled to an opinion. so, he lets Sir James and Elspeth plan the wedding they want since all Felix has to do is show up. he'll do his best to alleviate stress, acting as a buffer between his betrothed and parents, but he doesn't dare open his mouth.

this is marketed as a once in a lifetime celebration, so nobody is willing to butt heads with Sir and Mrs. Catton.

on that note, yeah, i can see Felix having an intimate proposal. maybe in the field at sunset, maybe at a cafe in town, but not in bed. he's got a flare for the dramatic, so odds are, he's actually down on one knee. he's young, so he doesn't need to make a huge ordeal for the proposal since it's an incredibly intimate moment. he might even proposal on a whim / impulsively. he's had a ring for months, planning the best moment to ask Reader, but he gets anxious and one day, it just happens. it feels right. Felix has that burning feeling that he needs to ask now else he'll fuck up his plan in the future by being so nervous. so, yeah, he just asks one day - barely even thinks about it! he just knows Reader is who he wants, so why plan the "perfect moment" when an opportunity organically presents itself?

now, Venetia can be a bridesmaid, but she's not MOH. again, depends on the reader, but i imagine Reader's sister or her own best friend should be MOH. Reader wants Ven involved in everything, but no, she's not gonna be the one standing next to Reader when she gets married. Ven helps decide bridesmaid dresses, works with Reader's sister and / or best friend to plan the bachelorette party, and is present for any conflict between Reader and Elspeth. she's sorta like a tie breaker because Felix is on Reader's side and Sir James is on Elspeth's. Ven is the one who helps keep Elspeth under control, the only one bold enough to stand up to her mother without fear of repercussions. she sees how Reader is struggling to both have the wedding of her dreams and respect for her MIL, so, Ven imposes herself to give Reader a break. to be the voice Reader lost.

and just because it's fun, YES, Duncan is def in attendance, handing the Cattons and Reader's family tissues during the emotional moments of the wedding. he eats two slices of cake. and for the fuck of it, you bet your ass Duncan lets loose a little and Cabbage Patches on the dance floor.

i think it's nice to imagine Felix being all cute and intimate, but personally, i think he's so far deep in his family's way of living to truly be humble. sure, Reader anchors him to reality, but he still lives this extravagant life so he doesn't know the definition of "humble". but that's why i said, it depends on your reader - but in my opinion, Felix is a little too spoilt to have the forethought to marry privately. or maybe he knows it's a fight not worth having with his parents, that no matter what, they're going to do what they want.

so maybe Felix is the one encouraging Reader to just "go with the flow" because resisting is futile. perhaps Reader comes around to the idea of a grand wedding because she knows she'd never have this sort of experience with anyone else; so, why not bask in it?

ah, i love these. they're so much fun! thank you for sending in, baby girl! all my love 🖤

[gotham-daydreams]

how resistant would y/n be to them being brought back to the manor? would they try and escape again? and also; to what extent with their freedoms be taken away? will they still have any privacy at all?

Pretty resistant all things considered!

I did mention in another response to an ask, that how hard their resistance is does heavily depend on how the kidnapping itself goes, but for simplicity purposes, let's assume that it doesn't go very well and not only is the reader very awake- but very capable of fighting back.

Granted, in the same response I also said that Y/n has a higher chance of running away if they can help it, and should the opportunity present itself. So, again, for simplicity's sake let's say that while a slip up did happen- the Batfam was able to recover fast enough before Y/n could get away, and thus was able to successfully kidnap them. (Even if there was some difficulty.)

Y/n, in this scenario, is very prone to trying to escape- and their attempts can range from a variety of things depending on how desperate they get, and how long they're able to hold onto that hope of escaping.

An interesting factor to consider, however, is also the toll of how their failed attempts take on their mental health, and how much of their sanity they may lose- if any.

These attempts can range from your usual sneaking out, and trying to be as quiet as possible, to.... other ways that put their health more at risk. Even if it isn't necessarily "escaping", it is some for of it, yes?

Ah- but let's not go into detail about that.

Anyway! What kind of freedoms would be taken away?

I think it really depends? Kind of like my whole thing with the kidnapping, and how many variables play into that, along with how said variables can heavily affect how Y/n can react, if at all — this also does tie into that a bit.

I believe the extent that the reader's freedom's being taken away, and what limits they're willing to put up at the start, could and very well does depend on the situation leading to this moment.

Was the Batfam desperate? Did something tick them off? Did they capture Y/n because they just couldn't wait any longer, or was it because the Batfam believed their life was in such great danger that they needed to bring Y/n to the manor to protect them right now?

Depending on the answer to those questions, among a few other things, the restrictions can either start relatively tame or just be outright horrendous at the start. To which, I say "the start" since later behaviors and actions can always change these, but we'll get to that in a bit.

So! Since we're going with a situation that caused the Batfam to be a little sloopy in their kidnapping, but were quickly able to recover from ot since Y/n still got captured, let's say that they were a little desperate and just got antsy. Not being able to wait around for much longer, amd thus the kidnapping was impulse, but they managed regardless.

Considering that we're also talking about the reader from the "Not [ ]" series at the moment, I'd say that they would be a little loose, but not too loose on Y/n's restrictions. If you know what I mean?

They understand Y/n's feelings and anger, so they're willing to let a few things slide- and maybe even a one or two escape attempts depending on who catches the reader, and how the attempt was done. But not much else.

Some resistance here and there is fine, but if it gets too out of hand then they'll resport to punishments. Which is generally more freedoms being taken away, as none of them really want to hurt Y/n, however- manipulation and such should very much be expected later on, as they are pretty much willing to break the reader's mind and reconstruct it to their liking. But you didn't hear that from me.

As for privacy? Nonexistent, sorry!

Again, the Batfam feel as if they've spent enough time away from the reader, and so they will be around Y/n as much as they can. Individually or together, it doesn't matter, someone is hanging around somehow.

Usually, again, this would be something that could change depending on Y/n's behavior, but let's just say that they're pretty set on escaping.

The more Y/n tries to escape and the more dangerous said attempts become, the less they're left alone. Thus, the more freedoms are stripped from them.

No internet. No communication with the outside at all. No leaving the house. No going anywhere without anyone, at least not without someone going with Y/n and or telling someone about it. It could even get to a point where Y/n can't even go to the bathroom without someone at the door, or them basically not even having a room anymore. As no one trusts them to actually stay there, and so either regular sleepovers happen, or Y/n constantly goes from room to room. This may also happen because maybe Y/n was able to mess with the cameras and such, so now the surveillance is much more personal.

Not that the Batfam is necessarily complaining, but it does still hurt seeing the reader trying to escape so much despite its 'perks'.

They begin to look for other methods to snuff out Y/n's attempts at escaping before they can even start, and just other ways to show that this is their life now, and they're not leaving ever again. Y'know, the usual stuff.

However at some point they just really crack down on the punishment. Maybe it was a particular attempt, or the Batfam notices/realizing that they're punishment of taking away each amd every last right and freedom Y/n has slowly, isn't exactly hammering in the message, they resort to other means.

They begin to use isolation as a punishment. Not wanting to harm Y/n too much physically, as they do still have a need for them to have all of their body parts in tact for the most part. Seeing as the Batfam wants the reader to still be able to play music for them. So... if they can't break Y/n physically, they'll break them mentally.

The Batfam will make it so that the reader loves them, and care for them- and that Y/n is basically the closest they can be to the person they were before all the trauma. Before the neglect.

Even if in the end, Y/n is still a shell of themself, as long as the Batfam can hardly tell the difference, does it really matter? As long as everyone is happy, should they really care?

It hurts at first, of course, especially since Y/n tried to fight back so hard when they were first locked up in a bare guest room, and it only got harder with time, but at least they did eventually begin to see progress this time!

It's no secret that the Batfam is super manipulative when they want to be, and this moment does clearly show it.

Through the door they still talk sometimes, and perhaps it'd bring comfort at some point, that's the problem.

They leave Y/n alone, by themself, in a room where the only thing to do is to listen to their own thoughts- but now, also occasionally accompanied by one of them. They voice their thoughts and feelings, maybe even chastising Y/n for their behavior, and as much as the reader doesn't want to listen- there is nothing else to listen to. Nothing else to do.

Maybe they try to ignore it at first, who wouldn't? But with time, even that begins to fail them.

No matter how they cover their ears of create a loud enough noise to even block themself out, it's like the voices of the Batfam begin to slowly seep in. They shout too, forcing the reader to hear them at times, or purposefully playing noises in Y/n's room practically made to drive them absolutely mad until they finally listen. Until they give in- or at least hear that little voice of their's that they've been tryinf to sneak in.

And y'know what? It works.

Eventually, voices that Y/n could only associate with discomfort, pain, annoyance and cold began to make them feel warm and seen. So loved and cared for even if they never felt such things from the Batfam before.

They don't want it, this feeling. They hate it! They try to scratch it away as it seeps into their skin, and they hate the way they begin to perk up and brighten at the sound of any voice from beyond that damned door. Even going as far as to physically restrain themself from moving any closer, just so that they could hear the voice more clearly and feel more of that warmth-

But it works. Of course it does.

Tldr: Y/n would be pretty resilient and resistant. In this particular scenario they would try to escape quite a lot! And to ensure that all goes well, the Batfam is willing to take away every freedom they can, and maybe even some rights, if it means getting their desired outcome. The only thing really off the table is physical violence, but nobody said anything about using psychological torture as punishment.

I hope this answer your questions! If it didn't, I apologize as I am writing this at midnight so it may be a little all over the place (I'll edit it a bit in the morning). If you'd like me to clarify anything or have another question, feel free to send in another ask!

[maple-the-awesome]

Friend or Foe || Part 1/3

Part 2 || Part 3

Pairings: Four, Hyrule, Legend x GN Reader

Overview: Link visits an alternate world without its hero and, more importantly, a version of you without your Link. Unfortunately, it seems even the smallest of details can lead to disastrous results. In spirt of October and Halloween, I've decided to do a little evil prompt because none of the Links have enough emotional damage yet😈

Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist

Four has known you since childhood, both of your families having been good friends for generations. You've always been peas in a pot together with a level of closeness that results in a lot of ‘old married couple’ jokes. You're usually the first person Four returns to after his adventures, never sparing a single detail as he knows he can trust you with his life if it were to come down to it which makes this situation so perplexing...

This you is nothing like his dear friend back home. You don't have that same sweet smile that makes his heart do loops of delight, rather a wicked grin that makes his stomach turn in disgust. When he heard murmurs about an evil magic-wielder terrorizing this world, it would've been his last guess that such a person could look exactly like you - same face, same name, same everything!

"What an interesting assortment of weapons, especially this one!" Four bites back a snarl when this cursed version of you holds the Four Sword high into the sky with a teasing smirk, "It's practically dripping with magic. Where did you get it? ...Still not going to answer me? Oh, but you were so talkative earlier - what, with all your meaningless questions and desperate begging.”

Trapped behind cold iron bars, all Four can do is watch helplessly as you search through the rest of the items you’ve stolen from him, making little comments here and there which he refuses to acknowledge (he’s learned from Vaati that responses are only encouragement). The others should be here to rescue him soon anyway. In the meantime, he’s trying to make sense of this whole situation as he has been since you first caught him.

'This just can't be our flower. I refuse to believe it. They'd never be so cruel to us like this! They're our friend!' 

'Of course they aren’t, you idiot! There's no way they'd be evil at all! This scum is an imposter and the second we get out of this prison we'll teach them a lesson about why they shouldn’t dare tarnish an angel's name like -!'

'- Calm down. We're in a different version of Hyrule which means this is more than likely this kingdom’s version of -'

'- Hogwash! Don’t you dare finish that sentence! They'd never act like this even in a different world!'

'I don’t want to believe it either, however the fact of the matter is it isn’t impossible. Think about it. Everything about this world is similar to our own excluding our existence. There is no hero meaning we weren’t ever there to protect them. Did you think about that?'

'...No...'

'That's so sad!'

Four must agree with his arguing thoughts. Although this you isn't the one he has waiting for him back home, he can't help feeling some pity towards you, refusing to believe you could simply be born evil. Something led you down this path you currently trek, and maybe this world isn't necessarily within his range of responsibility, however he still feels a bit guilty for not being able to help any version of you, here or there.

Hyrule met you shortly after meeting Zelda which was natural considering you were the eldest child of the crown. He must admit he's unfortunately never gotten the chance to know you too well, seeing as you have so many responsibilities that keep you busy while he, himself, is often sidetracked venturing through a broken world, yet nevertheless, he does know you to be a kind and generous leader - someone he’s always admired very deeply which is why he’s having so much trouble accepting you could ever be like this…

This kingdom has a sort of sadness that flows throughout the dusty sky and crumbled grass. Legend mentioned something about visiting a kingdom like it before, although Hyrule wonders now if all aspects of the Vet's experiences would match. He would ask, however such a question wouldn't be appropriate at the moment given as both heroes have been brought to their knees, spears held close to their heads to keep them submissive (not that it gets rid of Legend's scowl).

When Hyrule first laid eyes on you while being forced him to take a knee in front of your throne, he had been relieved, so certain that you'd immediately wave off your hostile guards and take note of the obvious misunderstanding that has occurred, after all this traveler is a dear friend of yours who should be treated as such. Alas, Hyrule shivers instead, frozen under your cold gaze as you glare down upon Legend and him.

"These are the heroes you found? I thought they'd be taller - more a threat than little mice," You sigh boredly with your head rested against your hand, although you do take a second longer to admire Hyrule, smirking at the boy who unlike his feisty friend looks absolutely petrified to be in your presences. 

Pushing yourself off your throne, you approach the poor boy and kneel before him. Despite his attempt to flinch away, you still succeed in running your hand against his cheek, "...Oh, but you're a cutie, aren't you? A rare gem in a world so broken."

At least you're aware of the current status of this kingdom. Hyrule would like to think that with some bitterness in mind, however he actually manages to feel sympathetic while watching you wander back to your throne, not missing that frown upon your face. 

It’s then that he’s reminded of a story his friends and him were told upon arrival here - that this world’s hero had died tragically many years ago. There’s no evidence that this world’s current state is because of you which means you could’ve simply inherited a cursed throne and allowed your own heart to hardened under the depressing circumstances, a fate Hyrule fears might have easily occurred to his own version of you as well if not for the support you had received from your siblings and himself. If only you weren’t alone in this world. Maybe then you could have become a beloved queen here, too.

Legend denies that he ever knew you; it hurts too much to accept otherwise. For the short time that he had known you, you had been a light in his life, always so sweet and magical in a way that could lift even the darkest of thoughts. There's a side of him who wishes every night that he'll be blessed with a dream about you because much to his dismay, that's his only way of seeing you again. He'd give anything to meet you in person once more even if for just a second, but not like this...

He's trying hard to keep the scowl on his face - trying to act unintimated, trying to act annoyed - despite how much his heart is aching deep down. He can feel his eyes burning. He can taste iron as he bites down upon his lip, praying to Hylia he'll wake up any moment now.

Promptly after arriving in this Hyrule, the Chain had received several warnings from locals about a ‘demon’ which lurks in the night. They claim that the creature only ever appears in the shadows, preying upon weak minds and cursing them with cruel nightmares. 

Legend, of course, dismissed it all as a story meant to scare children, even going as far as to give Warrior a hard time for being jumpy while the group was setting up camp in a forest right outside of town. Unlike some of the others, Legend doesn’t care if the wind whispers or how certain trees around them look like faces, and he was actually sleeping quite well amongst it all until getting up to go to the bathroom. 

Walking back into camp, he had been alarmed to notice a cloaked figure hovering right above Wild, their hand outstretched towards his head as the Champion shifted and whimpered in his sleep. Everyone else appeared to already be in similar states of distress, even Time’s stone expression crinkled in pain.

"HEY! GET AWAY FROM THEM!" Legend was quick to shout, catching the monster's attention before drawing his sword which he had thankfully taken with him earlier. He planned on fighting off the beast then hopefully waking the others from their nightmares, yet instead he found himself trapped in one of his own when the cloaked figure removed their hood.

Now he can't move, frozen in terror as he tries desperately to shake the feeling...No...No, it can't be you. This is a trick - an illusion the monster has created to mess with him. You would never stain your beautiful face with such a wicked smile. You'd never hurt anything or anyone the way this thing already has!

Regardless of his doubt, Legend can only shake as you approach a lot faster than he can process, likely aided by your ability to effortlessly float his way. Whether due to a spell of yours or a result of his own weak will, he doesn't jerk away like he wants to when you run a hand over his cheek, cooing in a mocking way, "Aw, get a lot of nightmares, do you honey?"

"N-No. Not at all," He manages, at last finding the strength to swing your way which is an action helped by closing his eyes. If he can't see your face, he won't have to battle his concern over hurting you; he can better convince himself that you aren't truly here as you've never been.

"Liar," You easily dodge him, using merely two fingers to grab his sword midair. Keeping it in place, you lean forward, your breath making his legs wobble as the tears finally begin to prick in the corners of his eyes, "I can read your thoughts - see your fears…Oh, but this is far worse than any nightmare you've had, isn't it, my dear? Far worse than any I could bestow upon you with my magic. Poor thing. You miss them terribly, don't you? If that's the case, then you shouldn’t avoid me so. Soak it up. Remember what I look like. After all, it's the last chance you'll ever get to reach out and touch me."

[frozenjokes]

can not draw or function but someone on one of the mumbo mermaid fic chapters said oohh I bet Etho is a secret mermaid that has a human form somehow! And that was not the plan. That was not even a little bit the plan. But the idea is so fucking good the plan has changed.

Etho is a mermaid who strayed too close to the surface during a fierce storm, getting caught up in the currents and unable to escape before he was thrown against an outcrop of spiked rocks off the coast of a small island. These rocks would have super killed him, but luckily, Joel is there to curse him forever save his life! In this AU most everyone is human and there were no planned magical elements (mermaids are just one of many other species that be chilling on earth) but I’ve made an exception for Joel, who is a silly little witch guy. Complete recluse. Prays of the downfall of others. Stands out in thunderstorms wondering if any boats are going to crash into his Island Of Doom so he can laugh at them.

So Joel finds Etho and goes whoa! sick! a mermaid and not a dead one this time! Better make sure he stays that way! And hauls him back to his little swamp cottage somehow (yeah) and with the help of magic saves Etho’s life, only leaving a scar that starts at his forehead and goes basically alllll the way down his tail like snowtuft from warrior cats. however. Before saving his life Joel has Etho, delirious from blood loss, make a pact with him, one that is just basically like. Heyyyyy what if I bound our souls together after you’re all fixed up so *I* can also be a mermaid because that’s sick as fuck!!

and basically at the end of this all, Joel creates some sort of pendant that allows the two of them to switch forms, except Etho gets zero say on whether he’s mermaid or human, and it is entirely up to Joel’s whims. Despite the Everything, they manage to get along well enough, and Joel (with the help of some magic) helps to teach Etho English and other important things that will help him out if he ever decides to leave the island. Which he does! Humans are kinda sick and Etho wants to know more about the world!

However, given that mermaids are Extremely Rare and humans are Assholes, Etho can’t just tell people what he actually because they’re probably trying to kill his ass and sell his parts for shitloads of money.

Fast forward.. Bdubs gets an eccentric roommate!

I haven’t worked out exactly how they meet but Bdubs definitely peels Etho up off the street or something because Joel, being who he is, doesn’t know jack shit about how to prepare a Not Human for human culture, but that’s okay because Etho gets lucky!

Etho and Joel have a system of sending each other detailed schedules so Etho can be ready when Joel needs his legs, but Often Enough, Joel will decided to switch with VERY LITTLE WARNING, and Etho will have thirty minutes (the change is not instant) to find a body of water or a bathtub to Park himself until Joel finishes whatever it is he needed to do.

Bdubs found out very quickly that he and Etho could not have one shared bathroom. Etho refuses to tell him why he has locked himself in and when asked how long he’s going to be, the answer ranges from an hour to multiple days. Bdubs has stopped asking questions. Cleo and Scar, on the other hand, are extremely fucking baffled by Etho all of the time. They make up conspiracy theories about him. None of them are ‘Etho is a secret mermaid.’

anyway I love the clockers‼️

[luveline]

could i request remus getting in a fight (i know it’s not like him at all but maybe it was ab the reader?? idk) and then shy!reader has to patch him up and it’s rlly fluffy and cute. i love all your work!! 🤍

i did rockstar!remus hope you don't mind it's not a huge detail CW r is cornered by a creep, fighting, bloody knuckles ♡ shy!fem!reader | 1k words

The dressing room is silent. 

Remus sits slouched in a chair with his hand hiding his face, fingertips aligned over his brow and the pad of his thumb pressed to his top lip. His knuckles are bruised. Deep, cruel bruises. The index knuckle is split and scabbed with dried blood. 

You lean against the vanity, your cheeks tearstained but dry. He's still so angry. 

Not with you. The opposite, he's angry for you. Some techie had tried to lay hands on you during the set. You remember Remus' face filled with post-show adrenaline and how it had drained when you told him what happened. He'd been very quiet, characteristic if abrupt, and asked you who. 

There's a roll of bandages, a square of gauze and an antiseptic wipe in your hands. 

"Remus?" you ask. 

He drops his hand and blinks. The anger is occluded by fondness. "What, dove?" 

"Can I fix your hand?" 

Remus straightens in his chair. "Sure you can." 

You put the gauze and bandages in his lap and step in between his legs. His hand on the armrest, you curl your fingers around his wrist to hold him still and dab at his split knuckle gently. 

Remus pulls your waist. You let him, unsurprised when his face drops into your abdomen. 

"Sorry, dovey." 

You stop your wiping and swallow. There's lots of things you want to say. Don't be sorry. That guy cornered me and he could've done worse. You're brave. Thank you for defending me. 

"I love you," is what you say instead. 

He looks up. "You're not upset?" 

"No," you say. You reach for the gauze in his lap and lay it over his knuckles. "Can you hold this, please?" 

Remus gives your hip a small squeeze before he does as you ask. You wrap the bandage around his hand and his bruised knuckles, feeling silly because you don't really know what you're doing, you just want him to feel looked after.

"I didn't know you…" You let his hand fall gently and put your hands on his shoulders, fingers slow and shy but very, very desperate, coveting the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 

"Go on," he prompts as he always does, tilting his head back in your hold. 

"I've never seen you fight someone." 

"I don't do it often," he says dryly. 

You can't help but laugh. "No, I'd hope not."

You both go silent, looking at the other with a vast range of sticky sweet emotions. 

"I didn't mean to make you cry," he says eventually. 

You hesitate, eyes closing. Your words are slow; you think of each one carefully before you say them, "You didn't make me cry. I was just worried about you. Watching James have to pull you off of that guy, it was… it was a lot." 

"I'm sorry," he says again. 

You open your eyes, find him shaking his head from side to side, lips parted in regret. 

You smile and your cheeks apple, eyes squinting ever so slightly. 

Remus smiles. "But you already know that," he says. 

"Uh-huh. Doesn't matter," you whisper. "None of it matters. I'm just glad you're okay." 

He pulls you in close and you feel heat move over you in a wave, worse when his hand comes to the back of your thigh. He drags your leg onto the chair between his until you're forced to brace yourself on his shoulders and lean your weight in his lap. 

"Don't be silly," he murmurs. "Sit properly." 

And you explode internally, climbing onto his thighs with an awful churning in your tummy. He makes sure you're settled comfortably, doesn't care that it takes a lot of shuffling or that the chair is hardly big enough to accommodate you both. 

"There, that's better." 

You take your hands back from his shoulders and stare at his t-shirt, a black short sleeve sporting the Def Leppard logo in burning orange. You trace the letters with your eyes. 

"Hey," he says, tapping under your chin with his free hand, the other a clear heat behind your back. "You've gone all shy on me." 

You ignore him lest you spur him on. He tsks and leans back as far as he can in the chair, dark eyes half-lidded, a smugness in the uptilt of his mouth. 

"Does it hurt?" you ask. 

"No, dove. My nurse did a great job. She was super fucking pretty, too. The sweetest thing." 

You press your lips together tight to smother a pleased little laugh and move your gaze up. He looks super serious as always, his eyes unflinching where they pour into yours. 

He rubs under your eye with the very tip of his ring finger. When he's done he moves to the second, wiping away your smudged mascara with all tenderness. 

He graces your cheek with the side of his hand. "Poor girl. Still so pretty covered in tears." 

He's sick. In the head. You hope your pout clues him in to how unfair he's being and he reads it wrong, or knowing Remus he doesn't read it wrong at all, only chooses to act as if he did when he pulls you down. Firm, almost stern, his hand slides up the length of your back and holds your shoulder as his lips press to yours. You close your eyes and let yourself be kissed, too melted by him to do anything more besides kiss back lightly and screw your fingers in his shirt. 

"Slow down. I'm injured," he whispers. 

That does it. You're pent up and tired and he has no business making jokes at your expense. You laugh so much you have to drop your forehead to his chin, physically unable to hold yourself up. 

Remus pats your back. "I love you," he says warmly. "Didn't say it back before." 

You wrap your arms around his neck and sigh. You hadn't doubted it. 

[love-islike-abomb]

Mexico

Roman reigns x Mystic (OC)

"Yo-ho, Mexico! Far to the south where the cactus grow! Take me away from the ice and the snow! Let's go to Mexico!"

(a/n: you know the photo Paul posted of him saying "when the tribal chief summons you" it gave me an idea so here we are. I actually started this a while ago but I've been in a creative rut so it took me longer then I thought it would)

Warnings: fluff, smut, errors I may have missed, its also LONG!!

Word count: 1.4k

Tag list: @acknowledge-reigns @reignsangel444 @mzv11 @marchm-langdon @mandeelemons @pittieprincess22 @queengreenarrowmia89 @romanreignshairdresser @weirdgirl16355

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The winter months in Canada are so harsh! A 20° day is a heatwave here! It was so cold that when I threw boiling water in the air it turned to ice almost instantly. Some people had some fun with it and put food coloring in the water before throwing it while it did make for a bit of fun I wanted somewhere warm.

"you look deep in thought Mystic. What's on your mind" Paul asked.

"I'm just missing my husband that's all" I said with a half smile.

"well he's called me resently and he's bought you a plane ticket" Paul smiled.

"wait what? To where?" I asked.

"Mexico City" Paul smiled "your flight leaves in 3 hours so pack your bags and I'll take you to the airport"

I hadn't seen my husband in 3 months and I had a surprise for him. Paul was the only person I'd told because I had to tell someone "you haven't told him have you?" I asked.

"your secret is safe with me" Paul smiled "but i know he'll be over the moon"

"you think so?" I said, trying to hide the worry in my voice. We had talked about kids but never really got into detail about it. I was afraid Paul was just trying to soothe my nerves.

"mystic, he's always wanted kids. There's no need for you to worry" Paul smiled.

I took what he said at face value. I was worried but we've been married for 2 years now and I'm pretty sure he wasn't going anywhere "alright I'll go get packed" I said with a soft smile, walking away from paul to Roman and i's room. I grabbed my suitcase out of the closet and packed my bikini, several pairs of shorts, shirts, panties, bras, pajamas, and flip flops. I grabbed the pregnancy test I took and wrapped it in tissue paper and put it in the front of my suitcase. I zipped up my suitcase and walked out to Paul "come on mystic, I'll drive you to the airport" paul smiled, grabbing my suitcase.

"paul I'm pregnant not an invilet" I laughed "im perfectly capable of rolling my own bags"

"my tribal chief has told me that I take care of his wife while she's traveling to him. Im just doing what I'm told" he smiled.

I shook my head and smiled "I truly did marry an amazing man!"

At the airport

Sitting on his private jet I wondered how he was gonna react. I didn't have much time to think on it because my phone rang and he was on Skype. I answered and saw his gorgeous smile "hey babe!" I smiled.

"hi babygirl!" He smiled "I see Paul has taken you to the airport. I can't wait to see you! I was planning on taking you to the ruins of Tenochtitlan!" He smiled.

"I would love that! You know if it wasn't for the indigenous a lot of things people use every day wouldn't exist. Things like rubber wouldnt exist and we wouldn't have tires or those expensive shoes we wear wouldn't have their rubber souls. Mouthwash wouldn't exist, syringes, baby bottles and baby formula, the cultivation of corn, snow goggles, birth control, oral and topical pain killers, cable suspension bridges and many othes! None of those things would exist and we really should appreciate them more!"

"I agree! Also quinine!" He smiled.

"you've done your research! The first ever anti malarial drug!" I smiled.

"flight 21 now boarding for Mexico City!" The announcer said over the intercom.

"that's me babe! I'll see you soon!" I smiled "I love you"

"I love you to baby girl" he smiled back.

"you're a very lucky woman!" An older woman next to me said "he's a very handsome man!"

"he's my everything!" I smiled back, getting up to board the plane.

I handed my ticket to the stewardess "oh Mrs Anoa'i your on a private plane!" She smiled.

"he never disappoints" I smiled.

10 hours later in Mexico city

The flight here was uneventful and when I arrived I couldnt get off the plane fast enough. I knew he'd be at the airport waiting for me. I grabbed my carry on and headed off the plane. The the fight attendant opened the door he was standing at the bottom of the stairs with a smile on his face. I ran down the stairs and leapt into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist "hey baby" he smiled giving me a kiss "I missed you"

"i missed you to!" I smiled back as he set my feet back on the ground.

"We'll go to Tenochtitlan tomorrow!" He smiled "i have something planned for tonight" he said with a smirk. I knew what that meant. I wasn't gonna know my own name. the mere thought of him taking me all over the hotel room- "mystic? Are you ok baby? You look kinda pale"

"yeah I'm fine. I'm just a little queasy. I have a surprise for you" I smiled

"oh what's that's?" He asked.

I took a deep breath and reached into the front of my bag and took out the pregnancy test i'd taken before handing it to him.

"what's this?" He asked.

"what does it look like" I smiled nervously.

"are you pregnant?" He smiled.

"yes" I smiled back.

"baby why are you shaking?" He asked.

"I'm scared" I said "I'm scared that you'll leave now that you know"

He put his hand under my chin, gently moving my gaze to meet his "baby i don't know why you'd think I'd leave just because you're pregnant. I know we've vaguely talked about kids but you have nothing to worry about!" He smiled and I felt my body relax. I leaned into him, feeling his strong arms wrapping around me, realizing I was safe in his arms.

"come on let's get back to the hotel" he smiled. I'm sure you're tired"

"I am but I want my husband!" I said with a smirk.

"oh yeah?" He said licking his lips "I'll take you all over our hotel room!"

At the hotel

"fuck baby girl!" He growled "that mouth feels so good!"

I felt him twitch in my mouth and I knew he was close. I felt him pull me off him, my mouth making a popping noise "face down ass up baby!"

I happily obeyed, shaking my ass when I was on all 4s. I felt him tease me with the tip, sliding it through my wet folds "Roman please!" I whined.

"so impatient!" He said finally sliding himself inside me, both of us moaning out in pleasure. I don't know if it was the pregnancy hormones or not but feeling him inside me for the first time in 3 months activated a part of me I didn't know was there. I moved my hips against his, fucking myself on his hardened flesh "oh fuck baby girl! That's it! Fuck yourself on my cock!" The sound of his hand connecting to my ass rang out and he ran his hand up the curve of my back and into my hair before grabbing a handful and pulling me back, thrusting into me, His hips snapping against mine. He pulled me so I was on my knees and reached his hand around to grab my throat "i'm gonna take you all over This hotel room! You'd like that wouldn't you? You wanna be my little whore?" He growled in my ear.

I bit my lip "yes daddy!" I groaned.

"say it to me!" He growled.

"please use me!" I groaned.

"that's my good girl!" He growled.

"fuck baby! The way that pussy is gripping me I think you're close! Be a good girl and cum on my cock!" He growled. Fuck his dirty talk always got me. "Fuck! Yesss!" I groaned.

"that's it baby! Let it go!" He groaned into my ear "uhn fuck! That's it milk my cock! Milk it dry! Uhn I'm gonna fill that pussy!"

His thrusts became sloppy and eratic, his hot cum coating my walls. A few last sloppy thrusts and he stilled inside me, both of us trying to catch our breath. He slowly pulled out of me and collapsed on the bed and I followed him, snuggling into him "I love you" I smiled.

He smiled back "I love you to baby girl"